Disappointment Noted

I'm so frustrated. For the second time mom has planned on going to the Museum with me and then faked. This time it wasn't entirely her fault, but then again.... Either way we are NOT going to the museum today. I hate it when something is decided upon and then just thrown out the window. I hate not knowing what is going to happen. I have three options for this weekend and all are up in the air. My hope is that I will be able to go see Buddy like I planned 2 weeks ago. UGH, but Viola is nervous about her child being born so I might have to go pick her up in Indiana instead of enjoying a wonderful weekend with dear cousin Buddy and Aunt Ollyce. (GRR). And if that's not enough, Anthony drove his car into a ditch and now doesn't have a ride. adflkdjfaldfjklsdjlksdjfkljs. Since it's taking forever to set this job thing up, I really don't need my car the way he would need it. So, I might be stuck home for the rest of the week and the weekend while he gallivants in Pedro. I know that I shouldn't complain about helping these people out. They are, after all, family. And I know that I in the end I will do whatever is asked of me, but goodness, I can't help complaining just a little bit. Disappointment Noted.

I dub thee Vany

I can remember Africa before Abraham was born. Mom was pregnant and I prayed to God against my two existing brothers that he would be a she. But my prayers were to no avail. Regardless, I spent half of my childhood fighting over who got to play with him. Strange enough, the other half of my adolescence I'm not sure I knew that he existed. Sadly he became more of a piece of furniture, blending ever so nicely into the woodwork of our ranch style country home. Just Ham. I was more concerned with my teenaged obsessions of school, friends, and learning to drive. Now that I am home he's pretty much my closest companion, other than Alexus, the family dog. But for so long, I wished that I wasn't the only girl. Recently I discovered that my cousin is having a baby. It's her second child. I think I expected it to be a boy. Never once did I ask the babies sex. Over dinner the other night mom brought it up, revealing that Viola would be mother to a girl. And the flame rose in me. The same one that had monopolized by bite sized prayers for Abraham when I was 4. It's amazing how we can feel want or know something so passionately and then forget that the feeling ever existed at all. Then Abraham asked, what will her name be. Mom said Veronica.
Last Christmas my aunt was rediagnosed with breast cancer. She came here from Africa to receive medical attention. Right after school last summer, I received a call. Mom said auntie wasn't doing well. Regardless of her will to live, 3 or 4 days later Auntie passed away. Auntie's name was Veronica.
Often I've wondered about names. Do you become a name, or does a name becomes you. Take for instance my friend Nunz. Of course that's not her given name, her birth name, but it is her real name. It is her. If her picture were on a sheet of paper and below her were the words 'Nunz' and 'Adriaina,' and I was told to circle which name belonged to her, even if I did not know her from Adam, I believe I would circle Nunz. From her boots to her socks to her fleshy exposed knees and buttoned dreads, she is Nunz. *sigh. A lot rides on a name. If you don't believe me read Jumpa Lahiri's "Thenamesake" and tell me otherwise.
In short, little Veronica (I dub thee Vany) will have a lot on her shoulders. We all think highly of my late aunt. To me, she was my Africa, my mental image of the Phenomenal Woman described by Maya Angelou. Will Vany wear her name? Or will her name wear her? Naturally I hope for best.

Random

life is gritty. it gets under your fingernails.

so i'm thinking about career choices. screw it all and follow my heart? OR...

I'm excited for spring break. making plans is WoNDerfUL!/ i love my cousin

And, sabbath is a wonderful day. Wonderful day WONDerFUL DAY!

the Show Must go On

I love my theatre class. When I'm there, I feel like things don't matter. I'm not concerned about my future. Or how much money isn't in my bank account. I don't think about my lists of things to do for the day, or what to cook for dinner. I forget that so and so never called, and that I need to find out how what's-her-face is doing. I'm unconcerned with my weight and how much gas I have in my car to get me home... I'm just there. In the studio that used to be a middle school gymnasium. I am the script in front of me. The lines are my words. The painted in expressions, my own natural reactions... and life makes sense because those others sitting behind me, next to me, to my right and left, live and believe in the same scripted reality. I would liken it to disappearing into a novel, only more pleasant because the reality of living the story is more than a fabrication in the minds eye. The words, with the lights, the stage, the set... like a magic potion melts my me. Melts my worry, my fret, my questions, and neglected answers. To be a thespian is a wonderful thing. My small world has found one more safety corner. Oh to be a thespian is quite a wonderful thing.

10% Update

So I put the envelope for my tithe in the mail on Wednesday. Thursday I had an interview and Friday I was called into work. So maybe God did have something up his sleave. Whatever it was, it worked. Because I am now 6 hours at a law firm richer. haha. Praise Jesus!

This one will stick.

Wednesday I made the journey to West Chester, my newest establishment of higher learning. I've driven through that campus for 11 or 12 years and never saw or felt anything as wonderful as I did Wednesday. Parking Pedro and walking the sidewalks with complete strangers was surprisingly one of the best feelings I've experienced in years. To further explain it, it was just plain exhilarating. I bought books, took my ID Photo and even made a journey to the Campus Safety office, all along thinking, "nobody knows me... nobody KNOWS me!" Oddly enough I began to walk more confidently. With Robin Thicke pumping through my I-Pod I made my way to my first class 10 minutes early (It probably won't happen again). If I had already secured for myself a well rounded and healthy reputation on the campus I'm sure I would have skipped or made an attempt to tap my heals together. Oh the freedom ride.

I feel your pain

The other day I was walking the short sidewalk distance between a grocery store and a Chinese restaurant when a man caught my eye. He was white, wearing a hoody and just kind of pacing around. Not having any further interest I looked away. But as it turns out it's quite hard to walk by someone when he's staring at you and you both happen to be the only two on the sidewalk. So I obliged and gave him another look. Immediately he asked (quite gingerly), if I had a smoke. haha. No sir, I do not smoke, I could never smother these lovely vocals. Obviously the man was used to doing this because before he had the chance to relapse into shy embarrassment he commented on my Eagles jersey... Thus restoring a strangers comradery that could have been logged away as an encounter with a creepy man. *sigh... Seeing as how we couldn't connect over cigarettes, it was refreshing to know that we both shared the love for our cities fallen team. In the brief moment that it took me to walk past him and into the restaurant we both grieved for our apparent loss, but I was happy to find that I did not despair alone. Ah, football, what a grand sport...

10%

So I havn't payed my tithe from my last paycheck. I figure that if I do God will give me a job. Cuz MAN, I need one. So we will just see what he has up his sleeve. Shall we?

Fly a Way Home

My dear Eagle friends. Philadelphia morns!
It is so sad to say, but we lost. 27-24. It's amazing what three points can do to you. Devastating even.

3:
a field goal
30 yard line:
where field goals are usually made...
36:
Brian Westbrook's number... aka Mr. Butterfingers
3:
half of 6 which is a goal...

I love that number. All nice and Prime. Indivisible. But today its luck had eluded us. Hopefully next season is different