...One Year Later...

A serendipitous discovery this afternoon-- I started my blog one year ago today. Obviously, I haven't written very often in said year, but I think I can see a distinct evolution over the 366 (leap year!) days since April 23, 2007. I'm also getting more regular in my public self-discovery.

Writing a blog this year has been a way to compose my thoughts and questions, to formalize some part of what I journal every few days. (I have 14 journals to date, which hopefully no one other than myself will ever read.) Growing up is such a monumental pain in the ass that maybe documenting it will be somewhat enlightening/entertaining/educational.

I'm still trying to figure myself out, as well as whatever this "adult" life is about. I have started two new jobs in two new cities with two new roommates, one rather white-collar and one rather blue-collar (the jobs, not the roommates). I do feel more daily joy than I did 12 months ago and I think about Jason every hour or so rather than every 10 minutes. But I've lost another dear friend and dealing with death is a more common occupation than I had ever imagined it would be at this age. My customers think of me as a kid... Probably because I still look like one. And this uniform get-up doesn't help much either.

I went to Jason's grave in Kentucky last weekend with Tiffany, Becca, and his parents. It was a strange combination of frustrating and satisfying. Satisfying because I finally got to see where he went at least twice a year with his parents, and where his parents grew up, and where he stayed over Christmases when we'd talk on the phone. I now understand a lot that I didn't. Frustrating because I went to a beautiful cemetery on top of a green hill with a blue sky & puffy clouds above in the charming countryside and farmland of Kentucky... and Jason wasn't there. I'm glad his body is there; when Jesus comes to establish his rule on this earth, that's the first thing Jason will see when he's resurrected... unless he comes in the clouds with Jesus, and I'm not 100% sure what it will really look like. But anyway. I think he'd be glad to be buried there. There are all these stones at the cemetery that say, "If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd go right up to heaven and bring you back again." I wouldn't. I'd stay there with him. If I died and somebody came up and said, "I'm taking you back to earth, let's go." I'd say, "Piss off. I'm having a great time right here; thanks. Ain't no way I want to go back there, you kidding me?"

I do like that they have "Decoration" on Memorial Day weekend. The families of the people buried there all come with picnics and decorate all the gravestones of their loved ones and their long-gone family. It's a Southern dia de los muertos... the remnant of the small-town Americana community. Mrs Ray said that if anybody has family left, their grave is decorated. I think that's awesome.

Enough about that. For now.

Happy birthday (yesterday), Tiffany ~ Hi, Jeremy ~ Welcome, little Levi Daniel ~ I miss you, Lauren ~ Can't wait to see you, Amy

Over and out.