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twenty-two
when do i become grown
as of tuesday, this will be my worth in years

i've decided that when i finally do have kids (in about 10 years) i'm going to name my first girl child Starr. i've decided that when i finally do give birth to a small girl child, it will be in the morning, and in the spring. and... and that's all i've decided for now. happy sabbath friends.

train up a child in the way he should go, and even when he is old he will not depart from it. - the bible ;)

Limerick

Today was the strangest day. I'm not even sure I lived it yet. I woke up this morning and talked to God about some personal things that have been on my heart. Usually I try to make time for Him in the morning. I attempt to ingest a slice of scripture. At the least I talk to him in the shower or on my way to work. But today I woke up with dread. Have you ever felt that? My mind was heavy with worry and negative wonder before I was fully awake. Usually those moments we spend between worlds whilst waking are where we remember our true selves. The time of day where there is no pressure to be or do or need... Of course it quickly dissipates into forcing ones self out of a cocoon of warmth (*sigh in remembrance). Today I was robbed of that whole modus operandi. It seems that my mental morning ritual was strained and stressed. I woke up sweating and anxious; about what I know not. But I went about my morning as usual and everything seemed fine. Then work, then class... And here is where the feeling came back. I didn't know how to shake it friends.
After class I had Pedro, a cup of coffee, and about $10 in gas. There are a plentitude of things I could have done with such provisions. What did I do?
Every week I seem to have a song of choice. This week I can't stop listening to "Sound of Melodies" by Leeland. So down went my windows and up my volume. And I was filled with praise, almost to the point of tears. So strange... my heart was so full. So full of just... mirth. What's another word? Something better than merriment? Joy? Gosh... the English language is limiting. I needed to talk and to be understood. I needed to cry. I needed someone. I needed my dad.
In the six years since his death I have not once visited my dads grave. Of course there have been plans and dates set to visit... But I guess my explanation for why I never did requires insight from the bible. 'There is a time for everything.' I read that last night, before I fell asleep. Gosh...
And so... me and Pedro traveled to Limerick Memorial Gardens to visit dad. It was the perfect evening to go... Just Spring.
I'm not sure what else I can say now. I'd like to keep going, tie it all up in a nice ending for you, but I'm still not sure why I made that trip, and what it means to me now... I do know that it was perfect. That and something in me is changing. Something... *sigh

Jazz Tape

Music makes a difference, doesn' it. My dad had this tape that he loved to play in the van rides to and from any week day destination. And I can't complain because I fell in love with it too. His favorite song to play was "What A Wonderful World" by Loui Armstrong. Today that song is near and dear to my heart for the simple fact that dad found so much solace in it. But the song that drew me in every time I heard it as a child was actually the song that I named my blog after. 'One Moment in Time,' was sung by Whitney Houston way back when she was skinny by nature and not by drug habits. Haha. Yes it's true... In those moments, riding shot gun to and from school with dad and my brothers, all I loved about the song was Whitney's voice and the sound of the music. As I grew older the tape was lost but the song continued to find me in elevators, supermarkets, and restaurants who pumped late 80's and early 90's music as mood softeners for their customers. Pretty soon the lyrics played in my mind over and over again till the song was more than just easy listening. It was a reason to stop my personal shopping and inwardly sing along to Whitney's passionate vocals. Today that song brings to me a bit of nostalgia mixed with awe. It's strange that a secular song can pump my veins with so much energy and longing. But then again, whenever I hear that song the only thing I can think about is doing something inredible for Christ; for what I believe in. I don't think my dad knew what he started in me when he played that cassette in the car. But I'm sure he would be proud of the aftermath.

One Moment in Time
Each day I live
I want to be a day to give the best of me
I'm only one, but not alone
My finest day is yet unknown
I broke my heart for ev'ry gain
To taste the sweet, I faced the pain
I rise and fall, yet through it all this much remains
I want

One moment in time
When I'm more than I thought I could be
When all of my dreams are a heart beat away
And the answers are all up to me
Give me one moment in time
When I'm racing with destiny
Then in that on moment of time
I will feel, I will feel eternity

I will live to be the very best
I want it all, no time for less
I've laid the plans
Now lay the chance here in my hands
Give me

(Chorus)

You're a winner for a lifetime
If you seize that one moment in time
Make it shine
Give me

JANE!

Tab on the guitar is the equivalent to notes on sheet music. the only difference is that the placement of the notes are not as accurate as the ones placed in piano music. therefore, a lot of the deciphering and decoding is left to the ear. I'm wondering how I did not fall into this form of playing before. I have dabbled in it of course, to learn Switchfoot and Chris Rice. But recently, I have fallen in love with it thanks to the late Eva Cassidy. I see doors to natural dissection of guitar theory opening up to me. Knowledge at my fingertips. Chord progressions and picking styles. WHAT A WORLD. How did I miss it so readily? Me and Jane (name of guitar) will go far.

is there an exorcist in the house?

Three to four days a month mild mannered (haha yet dramatic) Crystal is transformed into a self centered and insecure ball of moodiness. Not to forget the neediness that static clings my feelings to any unsuspecting kindred spirit. Suddenly every-day human interactions are mentally broken down and dissected in an analytical circuit that (no matter what the physical task at hand may be)cannot be broken or interrupted. The conclusions of these mild delusions are often passionate pleas for more love, more attention, or repellents of any of the slightest bit of otherwise tolerable irritations. My appetite is no longer wired through my stomach. It takes some alternate route that never really sends signals to my brain until my body is faint and my extremities weak. Then, as if to riot the sudden change in diet, I can eat with an adequate supply of hunger only to find that my taste buds are revolted with whatever scrumptious delights I lay hands on! What is this demon that captures it's monthly feed on my body? PMS! PMS MUST BE STOPPED. It is RUINING my LIFE! Isn't there some exorcism? Some remedy... cry...

Settling in for Spring

Anthony is on the couch watching a movie eating chicken. His Africa hoody is draped over the back of our leather couch, matching Pumas in the corner. He's lounging. With his legs spread and his torso supported by his arm.
Mom is on the computer in the sun room. The sun has long since set and now the only light that illuminates her frame is what is shining head on from the screen. She sits in a straight backed kitchen chair, slightly hunched over the keyboard. Her hand poised on the mouse... ready to conquer and divide. Haha, those darn cards...
Ham is in his room. Downloading, typing, watching TV. Today he let Anthony take a buzzer to his head. All his glorious Samson locks covered my bathroom floor. Now those well grown hairs blanket the bottom of the trash can that sits at the end of our driveway. Tomorrow is trash day.
Albert. Busy Albert. He's buzzing around. Cell phone to house phone. Kitchen for scrounging to fill a belly that has emptied over the past week. Then off to his portable office; his car, our dining room table, the living room. Always in passing. Consulting a mother in the sun room. Falling asleep awkwardly on the couch, the bed, the floor, all three at once. Albert is home.
Then dear Alexus. Chewy, sleepy, sporadic Alexus. Searching for a game, a quick rub behind the ears, or an easy snatch at a morsel of food. Her only busy-bodied rival would be Albert. Neither can settle on a home.
And I... I write, I play guitar, dream, imagine.. saunter upstairs to visit the happenings. Nothing new... drink some water.
*sigh, it's comfortable the way we live this Sunday. The lazy day for our family

chillins a plenty

the children have been here all week. tomorrow they depart. the house will be quiet without them. oh small chillins.

White Boy

Turns out Jeff is an amazing guitarist. Mostly he's too humble for his own good. We had a late night jam session in my rec room the other night. Afterwords I fed him left over mac&cheese and greens. He actually ate the greens, what a brave boy. Anyway, so he started helping me write the guitar part to this new song I wrote called "Sabbath Shoes (aka Sunday Shoes). The guitar he started putting to it was so wild. Man, as a song writing duo, we make a great time. I'm glad I ran into him at work. He's so ready to get out there and play. He plays for the Praise team at his church. Hopefully I get a chance go sing up there. We're working on it. And get this, I might have a chance at a small time christian record label. horah for Crystal? Yes, Horah!

(And, Happy First Day of Spring)

Lyricist

I'm writing music again. Times are good.

INDIAN MAN

Tonight me and Jeff went to Dunken Donuts to grab coffee. The indian guy was closing it down so Jeff put a dollar in his tip jar and we went back to Pedro to drink, chat, and listen to jams. Jeff was sad because inside he noticed that there were no donuts. poor Jeff. So anyway, we are sitting in Pedro when the Indian guy unlocks the Dunken Donuts door and walks over to PEdro to deliver 3 donuts to us. Horah! We were so happy. THen he goes back inside and keeps loooking out at us. Indian man goes into the back room and then comes out with a BAG of donuts. lol. He unlocks the DD door again and hands them to us. THen, in not so perfect english, he asks us to wait for 15 minutes, which isn't hard cuz me and Jeff are chattinga way and talking about guitars and such. THEN, dun dun dun. 15 minutes later lights begin to go out in the store and the Indian guy emerges from the back and comes around to my side of the car. lol SO, what do I do? I get out and let him in! And THEN he instructs us how to get to the next Dunken Donuts which is about 1 mile up the road. lol. I let him out, he thanks us... and that is that! HoW WONDERFUL! I LOVEd it. Indian MAN was so happy! I wonder if he does that often, trades donuts for a ride.

I'll See It Through

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly
-Langston Hughes

The Possible’s slow fuse is lit
By the Imagination
-Emily Dickinson

It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves
-Sir Edmund Hillary

If people knew how hard I have had to work to gain mastery, it wouldn’t seem so wonderful. -Michelangelo

Whoever would one day learn to fly must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying
-Friedrich Nietzsche

"Goodness. What do we have here? Looks like I might be pointed & headed in a direction. All the discussions sound about right. The feeling is promising. The motives are properly supported... All I need now, is time."
She licked her finger, sliding it upwards into the clear blue sky. "I see the wind is nice and strong, for the sails. How convenient that it's pointing towards my planned destination. I have provisions enough for the trip. I believe all I need now is to commit and see it through..." Withdrawing her hand from the sky she slipped it into the drawstring of her bag, gingerly stepped off the swaying dock and into the gently bobbing boat. "Are you afraid?" Her heart asked her mind. "No," the mind replied, "Father is with us."
-Crystal D. Cheatham

When I Fall In Love

Today I was in B&N and found myself amongst friends. I was in Seattle when I made acquaintances with The Time Travelers Wife and the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime. I was stumbling through Sophomore year when I found solace in Asher Lev and The Chosen. I was discovering life outside historical fiction when my mother placed The Nanny Diaries in my hands. I Know this Much is True and Angela's Ashes distracted my solemn heart the year my father passed. Walking the isles as my eyes searched for new arrivals, my heart would leap before my mind could notice that I had read that one. My heart would remember as if it say "Ah dear friend, that time I stayed up with you all night discovering..." Or "How do you do Frank? I'm glad you survived Asher... Morrie, do you remember when you taught me endurance?" Today I realized, from those rich pangs of memory inflicted on my heart, that it is possible to be in love with books. I know, because I am. Maybe it's the magic that I've found in them...

"People disappear when they die. Their voice, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living memory of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continue to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humor, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away, is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. IT is a kind of magic."
-Dianne Setterfield

Follow the Leader

It's nice to know that when you've been following blindly and a sliver of light is shed on your path you are assured that you are in fact going the right direction. You see I'm discovering that life is impromptu. I might actually be ahead of the game... Consider me, following faithfully with my eyes wide shut.

Today was a positive day. I accomplished much at work. Made my bosses proud and even got out early. I failed to prepare an audition song for my theatre class and ended up singing "When I Fall In Love" very last minute. It was wonderful though (God is continually good). After class my teacher pulled me aside and said that she thinks I should sing the only solo in our whole production. JOYGASM!!!! She said she still had to figure things out for casting, but GOSH golly darn it, I pray that it works out.

Although I still don't have a clue what I'm doing with myself, I'm quite comfortable knowing that I'm going the right way. Lead on Father, lead on.

warning

if you wake up someday and realize that you're fat, don't worry. it's ok. the thing to watch out for is a death device called the cabbage soup diet. it lasts a week. and if you're ever tricked into doing it, kill yourself. or atleast scrape off your taste buds.

(gosh i love myself...)

Simple Pleasures. They are due

It really doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing. I could be thinking about deep passionate wonders or skimming the surface of the most shallow thought waters. But whenever Ignition by R. Kelly hits the speakers the only thing I can think to do is grin. I even forget my professed inability to dance. I love that song. I'm groovin just thinking about it.

Passion

My thoughts have been guided towards this subject of late. Since I can't divulge the conversations between my heart and mind, I leave you with the words of those who have been able to do so of theirs.

It is the soul's duty to be loyal to its own desires. It must abandon itself to its master passion.
-Rebecca West

Do what you love. Know your own bone; gnaw at it, bury it, unearth it, and gnaw it still.
-Thoreau

Passion is universal humanity. Without it religion, history, romance and art would be useless.
-Balzac

Passions unguided are for the most part mere madness.
-Thomas Hobbes

Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.
-W.J. Bryan

Waste no more time talking about great souls and how they should be. Become one yourself!
-Marcus Aurelius

He's got the whole world

today i had the chance to visit a sunday church. man, their music was amazing. hopefully i'll get a chance to perform there. but for the time being i think i'll settle for a chance to play in one of their jam session/practices. it was church but i was envious of the lead guitarist, standing there leading out the praise and worship. oh, but i've coveted that spot for a while...

God is a stealthy sneak. Today's sermon was on passion. What a theme He has set my heart to. What a theme...

reaching

there was a moment of weakness but i'ts ok now. God willing

loops

I have never worn belts before. Sometimes you can go to a store and buy a pair of jeans that comes with a nifty matching belt and styled out belt buckle. I love accessories tho. Shoes, hats, bags, bracelets, earrings, but belts? Not so much. I wasn't at all happy to discover that part of the uniform at Applebees is to tuck your shirt in and wear a belt. Yeah, tucking my shirt in has NEVER happened, not even by mistake. *sigh. So I have to do it and I thought I would hate it but there is one thing I have come to love. I love the sound of the belt buckle when I'm taking it off. The the sound of the metallic clinking and the weight of it. Strange? Possibly, I think think it's nice.

saving grace?

Lately I've been quite down. What has normally been bubbely, happy, self assured, Crystal has been reduced to sad, moody, self deprecating, Crystal. Against myself but quite easily I've been sulking around the house. My mom has attempted to make friendly and light hearted conversation but all I can do is snap back, withdraw, or become extremely defensive. I'm not happy. But tonight a good friend reminded me of Romans 12:12. There is hope isn't there? God hasn't left me, has He? And in the words of Mary Mary, "I've Come to far from where I've started from. Nobody told me the road would be easy, but I don't believe He's brought me this far, to leave me." This particular friend also said, and I'm sure it was the phrase that threw the life presever around my sinking heart thus returning it to a comfortable bob above the waters, "if you rush the building, it will collapse." I still feel like poo, but atleast I know there has to be some kind of redemption planned for my bobbing heart. *sigh, God is bigger...