bithday bluez...

It's already 1.5 hours into my birthday and already I am struggling with how to feel today. I want to be excited, but I can't rally the nerve. With my parents out of the country I sort of dread who from my family will be calling, although I know I don't want to talk to anybody, but I know I am shallow enough to be hurt if no one does. I feel like everybody wants me to be excited about it but since Pap-Pap died, I knew this day would be difficult for me and I sort of wonder if it is so hard because of his loss or because I kept telling myself it would be difficult. I don't know.

Whenever I think about him too much I start crying and it's over the dumbest things. While I am pretty sure that his memorial service will help me put some closure, I think I'll always feel little raw over it. At the moment I sort of want to run away to the Rockies and climb up high and just sit on top of the world. I'll let the sun burn and blister my skin and let my lungs struggle to take in the too thin air. I'd allow myself to be sick in the dizzy feeling of being that far up and I think I'd enjoy the entire sensory overload. I admit that sounds a little unhealthy, but I think I'd like to go somewhere and do something that required me to be able to use my body for what it's worth. I want to revel in each sensation, the heat from the sun and the cool winds on my skin, using my eyes to see all the brilliance in the thin air I'd be concentrating on breathing in and using to fuel my insides and brain while I struggled to stay on top of it all and be in control. The prospect of all of that sound deliriously enchanting, though I think ultimately any sort of distraction to take me away from my thoughts on the subject would be a welcome change.

Yesterday, I happened into a UMC for the first time since leaving St. Paul's years ago. I had to go into the Fellowship Hall for a pre-assessment for my senior portfolio. I suppose the school didn't have enough space, and so we were in the church. The one thing that struck me was the smell. It was the same industrial smell that is shared with buildings created in the late 60s, plus the smell of all of those Bibles and Hymnals. All I could think about during my pre-assessment were the times I tore through the halls of St. Paul's, running around with friends in between church and sunday school and as I grew older all the time I spent in the church for various Youth Group related activities.