Friday, June 30, 2006

The big, empty room

Starting your own blog site is kind of like standing in the middle of a great big empty warehouse. Only there are no real dimensions. Just size. See, no one knows your here, so no one visits. I can just sit here and yell, 'Hello!' in every language I know (2). If I imagine that there are actually walls, then eventually I hear a faint echo, 'hello'. Or, if this hidden corner of cyberspace is limitless, then my voice just sounds lonely and muted. I can run around in circles, or pick my nose, and no one will even notice.



"Hey, watchiss!" I say, to no one in particular, as I hum the national anthem, while flicking my nostrils to make it sound like a ukulele. I don't get any applause.




Hmmm...




Well, I guess I'll just get out of here, then.








Uh, yeah, I'll just be going now....








.............. hmmm.















Uh, where's the door?

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Birthday Wishes

Today is my wife's birthday. I know what her wish is. We are over one hundred miles apart. But thru the magic of some very expensive cell phones, we can stay close. Today, we ate cake and ice cream together. She and the girls sat around the table, and I in my car, sitting at the park. We both got the same Ben&Jerry's flavor (her pick). She picked out her own cake (I found something that would work, but was way too rich). We sat together, smacking our spoons. It was almost like I was right there. But not really.

Her birthday wish is mine also: that we could be in the same house together. We know the time is almost here when I can finally live there (I am working in Russellville while waiting for law school to start), but that doesn't help right at the moment. She wants her hubby, the girls want their dad, and I want my family. She sends me pictures, and I get to hear her voice telling me all about her day. I love her voice. It smiles. But I like to see her eyes when she talks, and watch her lips move. Her face knows at least three times as many expressions as most. And every now and then, for no real reason, while she is in the middle of talking, she will reach over and just touch my arm.

She loves me.

The Numbers Are In