Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
First of all, it's a big responsibility,
especially in a city like New York.
So think long and hard before deciding on love.
On the other hand, love gives you a sense of security:
when you're walking down the street late at night
and you have a leash on love
ain't no one going to mess with you.
Because crooks and muggers think love is unpredictable.
Who knows what love could do in its own defense?
On cold winter nights, love is warm.
It lies between you and lives and breathes
and makes funny noises.
Love wakes you up all hours of the night with its needs.
It needs to be fed so it will grow and stay healthy.
Love doesn't like being left alone for long.
But come home and love is always happy to see you.
It may break a few things accidentally in its passion for life,
but you can never be mad at love for long.
Is love good all the time? No! No!
Love can be bad. Bad, love, bad! Very bad love.
Love makes messes.
Love leaves you little surprises here and there.
Love needs lots of cleaning up after.
Sometimes you just want to get love fixed.
Sometimes you want to roll up a piece of newspaper
and swat love on the nose,
not so much to cause pain,
just to let love know Don't you ever do that again!
Sometimes love just wants to go for a nice long walk.
Because love loves exercise.
It runs you around the block and leaves you panting.
It pulls you in several different directions at once,
or winds around and around you
until you're all wound up and can't move.
But love makes you meet people wherever you go.
People who have nothing in common but love
stop and talk to each other on the street.
Throw things away and love will bring them back,
again, and again, and again.
But most of all, love needs love, lots of it.
And in return, love loves you and never stops.
Certainly, if I were to have a reading of this somewhere...there would have to be a few edits (seeing as we don't live in New York for one thing)...but gosh, I just love it!
Have any songs, quotes, poems, etc. inspired you? What are they? And, if you are implementing them in your plans, how are you doing so?
Monday, July 27, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
But, right now I have a nice chunk of time as I watch over the fiance post-widom teeth surgery. I brought him in to the doctor this morning, and a short hour later they returned him to me, wisdom teeth-free, but highly doped up of course! I didn't know whether I should be amused or slightly disturbed as I walked into the room he was in, staring blankly into space...barely able to keep his eyes open. He was trashed off the IV meds! The nurse proceeded to give me instructions on which drugs to give him and when, and what he should/should not eat. As much as I was trying to pay attention, it was in one ear and out the other; I was so distracted by my fiance's bobbing head and vacant eyes! I'm thinking over and over...this is a test...am I qualified enough to be taking care of him? He's totally going to die under my watch...(ok, that might be a huge exaggeration, but I'm kind of dramatic at times).
So, we leave the oral surgeon's office, and head down the road to drop off his prescriptions (gotta get those pain meds!) and pick him up a Wendy's Frosty, which the nurse suggested that I get for him. As we're driving, he is babbling incoherently at me in some sort of drugged gibberish, and I didn't know if it was mean of me to be laughing, but nevertheless, I was! He finally motioned to me to give him a paper and pen, and began writing messages to me...which was also somewhat disastrous. It was nearly impossible to decipher his narcotic-induced scribbles, but I managed to make out a few of the notes he was trying to get across. My favorite one reads "Being sedated is the greatest thing!" I had to chuckle. I am making a mental note to take a picture of the page he wrote on to show off for posterity in a later post.
Anyway, we make it back to his house, where he proceeds to get out of my car on his own and attempts to walk in a straight line to the door, tripping on the front step as he goes, even after I warn him about it. He was a man on a mission. His mother helps me get him into bed and take the first of the enormous pills that he was prescribed. And now, for a few hours I've been sitting with him, scratching his back, helping him change out his gauze, and making sure he takes his pills at the correct times.
It makes you feel a bit helpless overall I think. I'm so squeamish at the sight of blood or anything of that nature...how am I going to be able to take care of him in the future if he's sick? I don't even want to begin to think about how I'd manage children (at the moment). All I know is that I'll learn...I hope! That is just part of love I think...even in his drooling, drugged up state, I can't help but adore him. I apologized earlier for being a horrible nurse, and that I had better not be required to have a similar procedure before we get married, because he'd be likely to run screaming in the other direction (I'd pretty much be such a crying, needy baby of a patient).
In reply, he smiled a sluggish smile and simply said, "I'd love to clean up your drool."
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Well, I resisted it for the longest time, but I finally gave in...I decided it was time to test the waters in the blogging world, and we'll see how it goes!