My condolences to anyone who has ever lost me
And, to anyone who got lost in me
Or, to anyone who ever felt they took a loss with me
My apologies for the misunderstanding or the lack there of
I’m sorry you missed the God in me
And I’m sorry you missed the light
I’m sorry you forgot the way I arose like the moon
Night after night with the burden to forgive
Eager to feed you—everything
See, I’m a holy woman
I know what it’s like to give life to a being without ever needing to press skin against one another
I’ve practiced how to hold my tongue long enough
I’m afraid I forgot to say goodbye
I’m afraid you’re under the impression
That I was made to please you
I was under the impression you understood me better
The truth is, I’m a superwoman
And some days I’m an angry woman
And some days I’m a crazy woman
For still waiting, for still loving harder even if I’m aching
For still trusting that I’m still worth the most
For still searching for someone to understand me better
PES: Remember that? That caused a lot of jenny-agitation.
Me: What’s jenny-agitation?
PES: Extreme agitation conveyed in a very polite way.
Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.
h/t Anne McCarthy
As we indulged in leftover Halloween candy today after lunch, my coworkers and I reminisced about our childhood experiences surrounding the holiday, touching on our various strategies to maximize candy collection, and equally important, candy retention. Yeah, parents would take it away, but most everyone at the table mentioned that their siblings were the biggest culprits when it went missing.
That wasn’t the case for me though, because my brother was the best. I don’t remember any candy theft; on the contrary, he showered me with treats and looked out for me.
When he fundraised for school by selling candy, he’d save and buy me my favorites.
When he frequented Comic Grapevine, the local comic book and gaming store, he’d bring me along so that I could buy candy, play or watch them play the games, peruse the comic books, and play with the store cats. I can’t imagine how annoying or embarrassing it’d be to have your kid sister tag along for stuff like that, but he brought me anyway. It’s where I discovered my love for Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat — I was never any good, but I was happy to watch. It’s where I spent my hard-earned money on new pogs — the sparkly slammers were my faves, of course. It’s where I learned how to play Magic: The Gathering, amassing my own collection of cards and subsequently blowing the minds of all the boys in my class — I had to bring my decks to school and play before they believed me.
And when I started dating, going to dances and parties, and generally doing all the things my parents forbade me from doing, he’d cover for me, pick me up late at night, and always make sure I was safe.
Not everyone is lucky enough to have a sibling like mine.
(Apologies for the terrible photo quality!)
This is all God’s doing, man, you can’t plan it.
But if the devil’s in the details, then I’m satanic.
Drake ft. 21 Savage
Pictured: Lily sporting a little red cardigan that I wore as a kid more than 25 years ago. It’s kind of silly that my mom kept something so valueless (I mean that strictly in the monetary sense) for all these years, but I’m kind of glad she did.
Flash talks, townhalls, workshops, presentations, projects. It was a blur, but as always, it was wonderful to catch up with some of my lovely coworkers. (I wish I could say all of my lovely coworkers, but there simply wasn’t enough time!)
Here’s a disjointed glimpse of my week in Whistler in photos/videos:
If you care about me at all, please, PLEASE, never utter these phrases (or the like) unless the conversation follows immediately:
– Can we talk about something?
– I have something to tell you.