You can't hear me or see the days go by.
Slowly yet quickly are the nights sighs.
You cannot read me mind. The water
and fire in my heart ignites with you and
I in the nights mark.
What do you need for me to move forward
into the night where two worlds meet in the
fire of life. You're not in my life anymore.
Teach me to surrender I will learn I will not
ignore the water taffy hardness in the cold
dark heart unexplored.
Kathy Reyna
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Ten Years Gone: Cake Again
Ten Years Gone: Cake Again: "The past few weeks cake and all the wonderful ingredients of cake has filled my life sweetly. It seems since I've been apart from my boyfri..."
Monday, June 6, 2011
Cake Again
The past few weeks cake and all the wonderful ingredients of cake has filled my life sweetly. It seems since I've been apart from my boyfriend since moving out of our apartment and into another state I've been eating a lot of cake. Cake at weddings, leftover cake from mom and dads business parties, birthday cakes, and cake people wrap up left over from parties for you to take home cake.
I can smell the sweet stink of cake on my fingers when I wake up in the morning from eating a pice a cake at night. I can taste it before even putting it in my mouth the next morning as it sits chilled in my parents refridgerator. I can feel the stickiness between my fingers when I touch my phone dial. I can wash my hands with soap and the cakes fleshy and moist body is still on my finger tips. Sometimes I gently say no to my self from the sweet aluring sound of the cake or its attractive image in the box it comes in or the tupperware its smashed in and I think I need to rescue it from suffocating.
Lately, since I haven't been working full time, and my part time job is serving in banquet halls weddings, and showers, I've managed to pick up German chocolate cake, white cake, little cheese cakes, strawberry cake with little red pieces of strawberry fruit and my boyfriend and I have never fought this hard before not even over the opposite sex1?!?
There was large slices of carrot cake at home last week and I just assumed it was from my mothers work party and I couldn't hear the words that were coming out of her mouth to tell me where the cake came from nor can I recall today. I modeled the carrot cake slice for my facebook friends and still can feel the soft and tenderness of its moist yet fluffy and airy body filled with a light cream middle.
Just now I had to break out into laughter at just how completely insane cake has been such a large part of my month. I thought maybe it was from the turn of my boyfriend and my relationship to a long distance one. Or could it be because of the sugar rush it fills me with while I rebel against the gym that is in the city far from my little suburb home. In fact just now I had a piece of a donut from the counter by the stove after a real arguement with mom about why there has been so much cake and frosting around. It was a nasty arguement that ending ugly with one of us saying the Jim Carrey comic phrase from one of his movies, "Now don't you go dying on me now!!" to some little old lady in a wheel chair. And then " I promise I won't go dying on you either." Just truly for a brutal truth of how much care can take a toll on us. The END
I can smell the sweet stink of cake on my fingers when I wake up in the morning from eating a pice a cake at night. I can taste it before even putting it in my mouth the next morning as it sits chilled in my parents refridgerator. I can feel the stickiness between my fingers when I touch my phone dial. I can wash my hands with soap and the cakes fleshy and moist body is still on my finger tips. Sometimes I gently say no to my self from the sweet aluring sound of the cake or its attractive image in the box it comes in or the tupperware its smashed in and I think I need to rescue it from suffocating.
Lately, since I haven't been working full time, and my part time job is serving in banquet halls weddings, and showers, I've managed to pick up German chocolate cake, white cake, little cheese cakes, strawberry cake with little red pieces of strawberry fruit and my boyfriend and I have never fought this hard before not even over the opposite sex1?!?
There was large slices of carrot cake at home last week and I just assumed it was from my mothers work party and I couldn't hear the words that were coming out of her mouth to tell me where the cake came from nor can I recall today. I modeled the carrot cake slice for my facebook friends and still can feel the soft and tenderness of its moist yet fluffy and airy body filled with a light cream middle.
Just now I had to break out into laughter at just how completely insane cake has been such a large part of my month. I thought maybe it was from the turn of my boyfriend and my relationship to a long distance one. Or could it be because of the sugar rush it fills me with while I rebel against the gym that is in the city far from my little suburb home. In fact just now I had a piece of a donut from the counter by the stove after a real arguement with mom about why there has been so much cake and frosting around. It was a nasty arguement that ending ugly with one of us saying the Jim Carrey comic phrase from one of his movies, "Now don't you go dying on me now!!" to some little old lady in a wheel chair. And then " I promise I won't go dying on you either." Just truly for a brutal truth of how much care can take a toll on us. The END
Following the Rules
If I could prepare what to write ahead of time then my blogs would be more clear to readers. Bare with me if you are just reading one of my blogs for the first time because I have not written one draft or two first. I remember in school that is the way we turned in a paper even in college. I'm glad for the rough drafts and corrections because it does make a better final paper and that was satisfying.
I used to get A's and B's on my papers, and essays etc. I like to write and when I discovered blogging note pads and pens went out in the trash for the most part and if I was an organized person my blogs would be a steadfast activity. I've always loved deadlines and solo projects. Working as a team seemed to slow me down a lot and tired me out faster but I didn't let that stop me from reading books on teamwork and working my best as a team.
Serving at this weekends wedding was phenominal. The crisp hype in the air as the red and white silk clashed over the banquet room musically set the linens and silverware. The uncertainty of the crowd tonite from last weekends wedding reception put a rumbling ache in the pit of my stomach. The large airplane size fan in the kitchen blew loudly and hard as usual in the spot where the servers like to huddle.
My small styrophone cup of coffee was my only comfort that evening. Reading the nights layout plans that our manager arranged for us taped up on the larger cooler was the routine of three tables set up per server to clean, organize, and serve to while clean up duties filled the bottom of the page. That night I had bathrooms and that was fine with me since it was a chance at the end to get quiet time from the roaring dance floor vibes, and drunken laughter.
Appetizer time came along and the nerves in my stomach were clenching at all the choas in the kitchen. The cloud of the excitement brought me into the crowd with all you really need which is a smile and a few words, "Would you care for a pizza sample?" I never seen so many small appitizer trays go out that fast and as I begin to slow down matters got worse. I began to pick at the left over pine apple fresh in the left over bowl while waiting on the chefs to serve my next pizza tray to walk around with in the banquet hall. Then I became tongue-tied with the chef who has very kind eyes and a graceful manner about himself and my nerves strangled my neck and I begin picking at the potato chips they made.
Rule: No server can eat until after all the guests of each wedding is served.
I used to get A's and B's on my papers, and essays etc. I like to write and when I discovered blogging note pads and pens went out in the trash for the most part and if I was an organized person my blogs would be a steadfast activity. I've always loved deadlines and solo projects. Working as a team seemed to slow me down a lot and tired me out faster but I didn't let that stop me from reading books on teamwork and working my best as a team.
Serving at this weekends wedding was phenominal. The crisp hype in the air as the red and white silk clashed over the banquet room musically set the linens and silverware. The uncertainty of the crowd tonite from last weekends wedding reception put a rumbling ache in the pit of my stomach. The large airplane size fan in the kitchen blew loudly and hard as usual in the spot where the servers like to huddle.
My small styrophone cup of coffee was my only comfort that evening. Reading the nights layout plans that our manager arranged for us taped up on the larger cooler was the routine of three tables set up per server to clean, organize, and serve to while clean up duties filled the bottom of the page. That night I had bathrooms and that was fine with me since it was a chance at the end to get quiet time from the roaring dance floor vibes, and drunken laughter.
Appetizer time came along and the nerves in my stomach were clenching at all the choas in the kitchen. The cloud of the excitement brought me into the crowd with all you really need which is a smile and a few words, "Would you care for a pizza sample?" I never seen so many small appitizer trays go out that fast and as I begin to slow down matters got worse. I began to pick at the left over pine apple fresh in the left over bowl while waiting on the chefs to serve my next pizza tray to walk around with in the banquet hall. Then I became tongue-tied with the chef who has very kind eyes and a graceful manner about himself and my nerves strangled my neck and I begin picking at the potato chips they made.
Rule: No server can eat until after all the guests of each wedding is served.
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