My Mother probably prays daily for the demise of my relationship. She’s openly admitted to me before that she prays often for my “clarity”, but I think when she talks to God she’s a bit more….direct. Her secret thoughts become clear in her tone when she asks me about my “roommate” (my girlfriend and I have been living together since this past October). She can barely hide the way she holds her breath when I tell her how unsure I am of my romantic future. In short, she’s ready for this “phase” to end.
My mother is not homophobic. She merely wishes that her only child, her daughter, was in a serious relationship with…well…not a woman. So much so that when I told her that my ex (a person with whom I am at peace with parting ways with) had been blessed with his first child, she told me that “it could have been her grandchild”. Insert stale face.
But…I understand. And in her own way, I can see that she tries. Read More
Sometime recently, I discovered that I have forgotten how to read. Forgotten how to slow down and dissect language and syntax to paint a picture with my mind. At some point, my brain became a high efficiency machine designed solely for skimming through piles of words and the rapid digestion of information. Going back to school only made the machine more monstrous. Survival in an accelerated program meant reading to make it through, not for knowledge. By graduation, sitting still long enough to get through five pages of a book was unheard of.
Multi-tasking….the gift and the curse.
It was absolutely terrifying to me that I went from literally being able to get through a several hundred page book in three days to not even being able to get a chapter deep in a week. So, as I sat down a week or so ago to draw out my vision board for the year, I felt it only appropriate to incorporate my estranged love (please excuse the horribly geographically incorrect drawing of Italy). A little research and I came up with my 12 books for 2016.