Go ahead. Make me laugh.

It really does.

Keep it light, peeps!

Life Verse

My Life of Check Boxes

Since changing jobs from the courtroom to freelance in June of 2017, the reality is that I definitely do not have the extra time I thought I would have.  Freelance implies flexibility.  Flexibility implies time for ________ whenever I want.  Not so.  But I can't really explain why.

Some of it (a lot of it) is self-inflicted.

So in the freelance world of court reporting, we transcribe everything we write, unlike being an official in the courtroom, where only appealed cases are transcribed for the most part.  Transcribing every single word of every job shapes one into a better reporter for so many reasons.  We see steno that we need to write shorter (for speed) or a different way (for speed and accuracy).  So every day becomes a game, sort of.  What will my accuracy rate be today?  How many steno strokes will be perectly written?  More today than yesterday...than last week...than last month.  And on it goes.  And part of that insanity involves daily practice, over and above what we do on the job.  So we commit (those who strive for excellence) to practice every single day, no exceptions, even when we're sick, or have company, or plans, whatever, we fit it in somehow.  That accountability is the ticket.  As a result, our writing gets better and better with each passing day.  We compete against ourselves.  And this is incredibly addictive, as boring as it sounds.

Example:  I recently began writing the "evalute" family a different way to lessen hesitation and ensure accuracy.  So I use each of those words (evaluate, evaluated, evaluator, evaluation....) in a sentence -- which I get from this amazing online site, sentencedict.com, then record 10-15 sentences of each word into my iPhone, and that becomes my practice for the Daily Challenge that I belong to on this amazing court reporter website.  We mean business.  We don't play around.  We keep track and we commit to this insanity daily.  Over and above our work.

Check.

Next:  I began a commitment last September to learn a foreign language (on my bucket list).  I'm using Duo Lingo, and it is the coolest app for learning!  It's effective and it's fun and it's addictive.  I've learned SO MUCH in such a short amount of time.  My Italian vocabulary is now in the 1,000's, but in reality, that's really not that much.  Or maybe it is.  But the point is:  Ya gotta practice.  Every day.  And depending on how long it takes to get through your daily practice lesson, that can mean anywhere from 15 mins to 30 mins.

Check.

With my recent diagnosis of hip issues, and even before, I realize that I've gained weight -- both from feeling sorry for myself and overeating and from not exercising as much as I used to.  My butt takes up a lot more room in my jeans.  And it's not good.  Not with MY thighs.  And so I've commited to different forms of exercise most days of the week.  That takes time.  But I don't have a choice.  This is my health.  My sanity.   A direct impact on my emotional health.

Check.

So whether I'm at a deposition taking down the record, sitting at home at my desk transcribing the record, practicing so that I can take an even better record; practicing Italian, or working out, all of those check boxes take up far more time than even I realize.

So little time to do so many other things that I crave.  Reading.  Journaling.  Junking.

I do what I can when I can.  And that is enough for now.

After I finished my job this morning, I was heading back to my parking meter and spied a cool new building (not sure how new actually because I haven't been to this town for a while) that was beckoning a visit from me.  The Market.  All right.  I like that.  Inside there were shops, ice cream, restaurants, a brewery with wine and craft beer, a paleo quick-bite place, and maybe a couple others I missed.  The clothing store, called The Hip Eagle, had this yummy chunky charcoal cardigan oozing with texture and style -- half price!  A perfect gift for my daughter-in-law's birthday March 4th.  What fun!  I found myself wandering, wandering, wandering .... looking at things I didn't even want.  Just because it was fun.  I liked this place.  A lot.  I finally had to drag myself back to the car and get my butt home so that I could begin checking off my daily boxes.  (Note to self:  Get back to this place some evening for a craft beer and music on the patio!)

Wow.  What a boring life, right?

It is what it is for now.  But it keeps me busy, focused, challenged, purposeful.  And maybe that's a good thing as an empty nester.  Filling up my life with things that demand my time and attention and help to keep me distracted from the reality that I miss my sons.  I miss being at the lake more.  I miss goofing off in the afternoons (like I used to when we had short days in court).  This is my current chapter.  Every day I go through my list, checking off MY daily boxes.

And it's really NOT so bad.

Rendi ogni giorno

il tuo capolavoro.

(Make each day your masterpiece.)

- John Wooden

All Work and No Play

WE ALL NEED

EMPTY HOURS 

IN OUR LIVES

OR WE

WILL HAVE NO TIME

TO CREATE

OR DREAM.

- robert coles

Where are my anticipated days of leisure?  I wasn't counting on staying this busy as a freelance court reporter, after leaving the courtroom.  There's good and bad to freelance.  I've heard that all my life.  Now I'm living it.  

Yes, I have flexibility -- well, sort of.  Flexibility in that I don't have to get dressed up Monday through Friday , watch the clock eight hours a day, or fight the 5 o'clock commute of idiots five days a week.  (By the way, I came very close to getting run over by one of those idiots while crossing the street today -- like WAY TOO CLOSE.  Scared the CRAP out of me!)   Yeah, I only have to dress up once -- or twice, well, maybe three days a week, and fight those idiots one to three days out of the five.  And, yes, I have flexibility and luxury of picking and choosing days that I am not available to cover assignments -- well, sort of.  As a valued reporter of a busy freelance firm (I'm not bragging, really, I'm not), they somehow end up talking me into taking more cases than is ideal.  What, I'm a yes-girl, can't stand my ground and say no shamelessly?  I suppose.  

The good news:  It's great job security.  The bad news:  I have SO.VERY.LITTLE.DOWN.TIME.  All work and no play makes T a very dull woman.  

Very, very, very dull.

Dull = no fun.  

Dull = no time to sit and do nothing without guilt.  

Dull = lack of spontaneity.

Dull = No time to blog anymore.  How I miss the purge of soul.  

Life is pretty darn hectic these days.  And this year especially.  Lots of awesome things to look forward to though!  YES!  

So I'll not complain (too much) about being so busy at work, knowing that the income will come in handy for these upcoming events.

My most recent trip to my Happy Place, aka The Lake House, I was working on transcripts practically the entire time.  Certainly not an ideal visit.  But sitting on the sofa one evening in front of the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket, listening to the pouring cold rain outside the window (will it ever stop raining for more than one day?) while I proofread a transcript from my laptop proved to be my favorite part of my time there.  Blissfully peaceful.  Would I rather have been reading a novel?  Yes.  Watching a movie?  Yes.  Any number of other things that I do used to do in leisure?  Yes.

But it's okay.  I will take this chapter of my life one day at a time.  

I'm blessed that I have an opportunity to work at a job that I enjoy and actually earn a decent income in this day and age.

The empty hours I long for will some day be more than enough.  

It always works out.  Always.

Note to Self: Unplug

Relax in THIS room?

What a challenge...

If this were my bathroom, I'd never leave!

I'm making myself unplug.  After all, it IS Friday.  And I've worked my brain into oblivion this week -- practicing YET AGAIN for my realtime exam, to the point I'm pretty sure I dream in steno; not to mention working my butt off in the gym (combined with a clean diet, of course) to get off the ten pounds I gained from about the last week in December until two weeks ago when I finally said, "Enuf!."

Damn, why has it gotten even HARDER to get this crap off?  Damn menopause.  Evil, relentless, unforgiving, calculating, menacing menopause.  The scale won't move!  But I refuse to give up.

Just like I refuse to give up on passing my CRR exam.  My practice and effort has been doubly concentrated this time around.  I practiced for so long today I felt myself wanting to collapse onto my steno machine the last practice dictation.  My dutiful mind was willing, but the flesh was weak, pleading, stop this, please!

It's been a full day.  An hour at the gym at 6 a.m. this morning, a full day at work, followed by an hour plus of practice when I arrived home.  I finally did it.  I pulled the plug on GETTIN IT DONE.

And so I decided to make a wine cocktail of sorts, a recipe that a friend shared with me.  She wasn't specific on the type of wine to use, just said to use Moscato.  I'm not big on sweet wine, so I was a little reluctant to try this out.  So earlier this week I went browsing in the wine section of our local grocery and discovered this:

What caught my eye about THIS one ...

well, for starters, the label...

"Espuela"

which actually means "spur," I think.

But what did I know?

It had a mysterious and seductive ring to it, piquing my interest.

(insert raised eyebrow)

But more importantly, the label read:

"...reputedly rich in flavors of crisp apple and fresh peaches..."

That did it.

Well, because the recipe calls for peach sparkling water and fresh peaches.

Perfect!

And though I don't have fresh peaches 

-- not yet! --

I happily placed the bottle in my cart.

Let's give this one a go, T...

...and began launching the new concoction this evening...

And so I mixed the peach sparking water, a 1:3 ratio with 

Espuela Del Gaucho Torrontes,

and ohhhh, yes.

This is very good, okay?

And I'm not even a big white wine fan.

And then I added a little Johannes Linstead for good measure.

So, yes, this will be on the beach with me later this year

for Cocktail of the Day.

Adding fresh peaches, of course.

And how am I feeling now?

Just peachy.

Happy Friday.

Marry Me

She asked if I would mind helping with the decorations for the reception.

Would I MIND?

Silly girl.

And so it's been a work in progress...collecting bits and pieces here and there...brainstorming for the PERFECT look...bleaching pine cones...collecting acorns...harvesting timber off the farm...and on and on and on...

It will be a Catholic wedding, themed with The Love Chapter, 1 Corinthians 13...with whispers of Irish blessing.  They want woodsy, rustic elegance.  WRE.   The advent of an eclectic style...?

And I've had a blast crafting!  Give me a project, give me a sign...I'm on it.

A dining room transformed to craft room

 ...for the cupcake and candy table...

...she wanted to honor Mom...

(sniff)

themed table numbers

and amen...

Quiet Synchronicity

That feeling when you read or hear something and you instinctively respond,

YES!!!

THEY ALWAYS COUNT.

Interludes

The season of limbo.  The time of year that the calendar pages seem to flip in slow motion.  

Historically, once March arrives in the middle/south, we can say goodbye to the foreshadowing meridian of winter’s clutches.   We begin getting sporadic, unexpected teases from the sun, that vixen of hope, promising warmer, longer, laughter-filled days.   

In the last three years or so, I seem more and more anxious to leave behind the dark and colorless cold that strips me of resolve and optimism.  Should I blame it on this "midlife" stage of my life?  Can I simply attribute it to a number on my timeline?  And should I expect it to worsen with every year?  Argh!  Please, say it ain't so.  I can hardly bear to think about it and what it does to me.  I’ve evolved into a lifeless killjoy to the point that I hardly recognize myself anymore.

Who are you these days?  Do I know you?  

Just what's up with you anyway?  

Oh -- Excuse me while I take this call ... (She's no good for you, T, run for your life!)

Oh, do get a grip.  So many countless blessings.  Enough to fill a single-spaced spiral notebook … or maybe a few?  Far too many to dwell (and rot) on the smog of monotony.

So to dodge it, I do what works best.  I find distractions.  Focusing my mind on the positive, the productive, the entertaining, the engaging.  Time will pass far more quickly this way.   I wake reluctantly to my alarm this morning, telling myself I needed sleep more than the gym.  I do that a lot. But I just kept moving, one foot in front of the other, then coffee, then the cold morning air jarring my sluggish senses into motion. And sure enough, by twelve minutes into cardio on the elliptical, I was putting on my training gloves, ready to burn it with the weights.  Leg Day.  And I was even okay with THAT!  

After getting ready for work, I look outside and see that I'll need an umbrella as I make my way to the car for the morning commute.  I begin the drive, dreading the day, pissed that it's cold and gray and ugly and lifeless looking out there -- AGAIN -- wishing I could turn around, go home, and crawl back into bed.  But rather than focusing on the sleet and rain on my commute, the morons clogging up the left lane, I cranked up the volume knob and begin singing -- out-singing -- with Dido’s “Thank You.”  Great song!  Oh, isn't music one of the BEST therapists?  And then another song, and another, and then I’m whizzing past yet another moron, passing him in his land yacht on the right, and whipping back around him before taking the last left and into my parking building.  Excuse me, biscuit-eatin', goin-nowhere-in-particular-today cruiser!  (Being diplomatic with my word choice here.)  Coming through. 

Done.  I made it.  See, life is still good.

And suddenly it’s mid morning.  I’m sitting at my desk, bored, caught up with work, and no docket for the day.  My stomach begins to growl.  NO, I said to myself emphatically, YOU’RE NOT HUNGRY ALREADY.  YOU WILL NOT EAT … NOT YET.  MOVE ALONG!  And there it goes, my mind begins to roam, heading in directions that it doesn’t need to go.  

Disengage the crap, T.  Let go of the mind fog.  

  

And that’s when I grabbed my Kindle, waiting to be escorted to THAT OTHER PLACE I so desperately needed to go today.

  

So I’ve been reading this rather boring book on my Kindle, The Unimaginable.  I chose it because its description snared me and because it got rather good reviews.  I love that my Kindle gives me that little percentage meter at the bottom of the display, allowing me to see how far I’ve progressed.  Ironically, I’d almost given up on this book several times.  Typcially if it doesn’t grab me by the third chapter (or before), I ditch it.   

I’m not completely sure why I've stayed so long this time.  It wasn’t until I hit the 50%+ that I became engrossed -- the kind of engrossed where you forget where you are, what day it is, all stimulus blocked, all sights, sounds, smells temporarily stifled.  All that you're aware of  is the next word on the page, the next sentence, the next paragraph.  Give it to me!  Keep it coming.  I’m hooked.

So.  The three main characters have found themselves in a very dangerous predicament, encountering unspeakable terrors by a band of pirates on their leisure passage across the Indian Ocean.  "Unspeakable terrors."  I’ve finally hit the good stuff.  And I read on because there is something about Jessica, the main character, that resonates with me.  A description of the book reads:  “After twenty-eight years of playing by the rules,” referring to Jessica.  And so she's successfully escaped from the ordinary … but now look where it’s landed her?  In one dangerous and deadly terror-filled mess.

And I love that Kindle allows me to highlight and create notes:

Jessica:  “…but I always felt out of place, like I was just biding my time, waiting to be transported somewhere else where people wouldn’t roll their eyes at my curiosity and desire [to see more, do more, meet new people, learn new things] … but I was a practical girl so I learned to curb my enthusiasm, fly under life’s radar, and wait until the time was right to follow my dreams instead of everyone else’s…happy vs. comfortable…in the end I think I was running to something rather than running away from it…”

 

Yeah, I found myself whispering silently to myself as I read those words.  

I get that.

And so I read on, waiting for their inevitable rescue...

waiting for the main guy and Jessica to fall in love and live happily ever after...  

Yeah, yeah, yeah...Way too predictable.

But I've gotten this far, and I'm in it for the long haul.  

Besides, before I know it I’ll awaken from this dormant interlude and it will be the first day of spring

Make It Red Theory - Just Ask Me

Oh.My.Goodness.

This stuff is a-MAYZ-ing.

Just ask me.

Best cab I think I've ever tasted.

I'll be going back for more.

I bought this on a recent trip to Lake Norman.

Total Wine.

I LOVE THIS PLACE.

I never walk outta there with less than 10 bottles of wine.

Red Theory.

 (That's easy to remember!)
It came recommended.

Oh, yeah.

Bingo!

Breakthrough

I've been checking my weather app a lot lately,

constantly checking...

updates...

what's new?

Anything?

Five-day forecast?  Ten-day forecast?

Come on, show me the elusive warming trend.

Give me hope, Weather App.

Every little minuscule drift upward in degrees keeps me clenching tighter.

Hanging on.

All this gray will pass.

Just hold on.

Her Name is Audrey

No, not Hepburn.  I don't KNOW what her last name is, frankly.  Does it matter?  It doesn't to me. She came recommended by someone who knows.  A trusted source.  I'm told she's young.  Pretty. Petite.  Auburn-ish hair.  Lives close to the edge of style trends, yet listens to the customer first.  Has that obvious confidence in her skills, demonstrated in her body language -- what she does, not necessarily what she says.  You gotta like THAT in a person.

Body language is HUGE.  It's EVERYTHING.

I think there are circumstances in which people can have a substantial, far-reaching connection without saying a word.   You begin listening in a far deeper way.  That's when you know you can trust the one you're with.

Anyway.   Back to Audrey.  After doing my research, talking, investigating, asking around, then whittling down my list, Audrey's my girl.  I've made an appointment with her for next Thursday at 4:00.  She'll give me a trim and dimensional highlights.  Let's see what she's got.   I'll be the ultimate judge of THAT.

Something as benign as a hair appointment has me this worked up?  Not really.  Well, yeah, maybe just a little.  I guess this is a woman thing.  Hey, we wanna look fabulous!  And our hair is a sure bet. An elan of confidence.

All set.  And now I wait.

In Honor of Chris Kyle

An email has been circulating about Chris Kyle, the Navy Seal who was horribly murdered, and the details of his funeral. When I read it, I was touched -- and outraged at our White House -- by what I read.  All the more reason why I must see American Sniper. 

We didn't get to go last night -- out to dinner with friends instead, great fun, glad we did -- but I'm hoping to get to the box office in the next week or so for this movie that tells his story.

The email, though, deserves more stage.  So here goes:

Chris Kyle's funeral .......................

You've probably heard of Navy SEAL Chris Kyle, may have read his fascinating autobiography "American Sniper" and / or have seen the just released movie by the same title (starring Bradley Cooper as Chris Kyle). Attached is the bitter sweet "end of the story", which regrettably, but typically, has had precious little media attention.

Some interesting info about SEAL Chris Kyle's funeral last 
year----makes you proud of Texas folks

Our president & attorney general call about Trayvon Martin and 
Ferguson Missouri , but don’t call SEALs or NY policeman families …What in the ******** is going on in “our country”???

This is why America will remain strong. We take care of our own as well as others who may not deserve taking care of. I just wanted to share with you all that out of a horrible tragedy we were blessed by so many people.

Chris Kyle was Derek's teammate through 10 years of training and battle. They both suffer/suffered from PTSD to some extent and took great care of each other because of it. 2006 in Ramadi was horrible for young men that never had any more aggressive physical contact with another human than on a Texas football field.  They lost many friends. Chris became the armed services number #1 sniper of all time. Not something he was happy about, other than the fact that in so doing, he saved a lot of American lives.

Three years ago, his wife Taya asked him to leave the SEAL teams as he had a huge bounty on his head by Al Qaeda. He did and wrote the book "The American Sniper." 100% of the proceeds from the book went to two of the SEAL families who had lost their sons in Iraq .

That was the kind of guy Chris was. He formed a company in Dallas to train military, police and I think firemen as far as protecting themselves in difficult situations. He also formed a foundation to work with military people suffering from PTSD. Chris was a giver not a taker.  He, along with a friend and neighbor, Chad Littlefield, were murdered trying to help a young man that had served six months in Iraq and claimed to have PTSD.

Now I need to tell you about all of the blessings. Southwest Airlines flew in any SEAL and their family from any airport they flew into..free of charge.  The employees donated buddy passes and one lady worked for four days without much of a break to see that it happened.

Volunteers were at both airports in Dallas to drive them to the hotel.   The Marriott Hotel reduced their rates to $45 a night and cleared the hotel for only SEALs and family.

The Midlothian, TX Police Department paid the $45 a night for each room. I would guess there were about 200 people staying at the hotel, 100 of them were SEALs. Two large buses were chartered (an unknown donor paid the bill) to transport people to the different events and they also had a few 
rental cars (donated). The police and secret service were on duty 24 hours during the stay at our hotel.

At the Kyle house, the Texas DPS parked a large motor home in front to block the view from reporters. It remained there the entire five days for the SEALs to congregate in and all to use the restroom so as not to have to go in the house. Taya, their two small children and both sets of parents were staying in the home.

Only a hand full of SEALs went into the home as they had different duties and meetings were held sometimes on a hourly basis. It was a huge coordination of many different events and security. Derek was assigned to be a Pall Bearer, to escort Chris' body when it was transferred from the Midlothian Funeral Home to the Arlington Funeral Home, and to be with Taya. A tough job.  Taya seldom came out of her bedroom. The house was full with people from the church and other family members that would come each day to help. I spent one morning in a bedroom with Chris’ mom and the next morning with 

Chad Littlefield's parents (the other man murdered with Chris). A tough job.

George W Bush and his wife Laura met and talked to everyone on the Seal Team one on one. They went behind closed doors with Taya for quite a while. They had prayer with us all. You can tell when people were sincere and caring.  Nolan Ryan sent his cooking team, a huge grill and lots of steaks, 

chicken and hamburgers. They set up in the front yard and fed people all day long including the 200 SEALs and their families. The next day a local BBQ restaurant set up a buffet in front of the house and fed all once again. Food was plentiful and all were taken care of. The family's church kept those inside the house well fed.

Jerry Jones, the man everyone loves to hate, was a rock star. He made sure that we all were taken care of. His wife and he were just making sure everyone was taken care of….Class... He donated the use of Cowboy Stadium for the services as it was determined that so many wanted to attend.The charter buses transported us to the stadium on Monday at 10:30 am. Every car, bus, motorcycle was searched with bomb dogs and police. I am not sure if kooks were making threats trying to make a name for themselves or if so many SEALs in one place was a security risk, I don't know. We willingly obliged. No purses went into the stadium!

We were taken to The Legends room high up and a large buffet was available. That was for about 300 people. We were growing.A Medal of Honor recipient was there, lots of secret service and 

police and Sarah Palin and her husband. She looked nice, this was a very formal military service.  The service started at 1:00 pm and when we were escorted onto the field I was shocked. We heard that about 10,000 people had come to attend also. They were seated in the stadium seats behind us. It was a beautiful and emotional service.The Bagpipe and drum corps were wonderful and the Texas A&M men's choir stood through the entire service and sang right at the end. We were all in tears.

The next day was the 200-mile procession from Midlothian, TX to Austin for burial. It was a cold, drizzly, windy day, but the people were out. We had dozens of police motorcycles riders, freedom riders, five chartered buses and lots of cars. You had to have a pass to be in the procession and still it was huge. Two helicopters circled the procession with snipers sitting out the side door for protection. It was the longest funeral procession ever in the state of Texas. People were everywhere. The entireroute was shut down ahead of us, the people were lined up on the side of the road the entire way. Firemen were down on one knee, police officers were holding their hats over their hearts, children waving flags, veterans saluting as we went by. Every bridge had fire trucks with large flags displayed from their tall ladders, people all along the entire 200 miles were standing in the cold weather. It was so heartwarming.

Taya rode in the hearse with Chris' body so Derek rode the route with us. I was so grateful to have that time with him.

The service was at Texas National Cemetery. Very few are buried there and you have to apply to get in. It is like people from the Civil War, Medal of Honor winners, a few from the Alamo and all the historical people of Texas. It was a nice service and the Freedom Riders surrounded the outside of the entire cemetery to keep the crazy church people from Kansas that protest at military funerals away from us.

Each SEAL put his Trident (metal SEAL badge) on the top of Chris' casket, one at a time. A lot hit it in with one blow. Derek was the only one to take four taps to put his in and it was almost like he was caressing it as he did it. Another tearful moment.

After the service Governor Rick Perry and his wife, Anita, invited us to the governor's mansion. She stood at the door, greeted each of us individually, and gave each of the SEALs a coin of Texas. She was a sincere, compassionate, and gracious hostess.We were able to tour the ground floor and then went into the garden for beverages and BBQ. So many of the Seal team guys said that after they 

get out they are moving to Texas. They remarked that they had never felt so much love and hospitality. The charter buses then took the guys to the airport to catch their returning flights. Derek just now called and after a 20 hours flight he is back in his spot, in a dangerous land on the other side of the world, protecting America.
We just wanted to share with you, the events of a quite emotional, but 

blessed week.

Punch-line: To this day, no one in the White House has ever acknowledged Chris Kyle!

However, the President can call some sport person and congratulate him 
on announcing to the world that he is gay??

What is happening to our society, our honor and our pride??

One Breath, One Kiss, One Touch

And who of note entered this world on January 7th?

It's been mentioned in my blog before, but worth an encore because

I absolutely adore his quote.

It's quiet in the house.

I'm listening to Mozart.  It just feels right at the moment.

And my coffee is like a blanket around a shivering heart.

The nose dive in temps begins today.

Slightly concerned, since Zach's flight leaves tomorrow morning,

and he is to catch his next connection in Chicago,

not the balmiest of airports.

We were discussing his visits for this year.

He's in a wedding in June.

He's in a wedding in October,

And he'll be in Gavin's wedding, of course, in ...

well, that's yet to be decided.

She wants mid November.

He's saying he would have to fly in, attend the wedding, 

and fly back the next day if it were held in November.

I looked him in the eye and said,

"Here's the way it is.  Gavin is your brother.

He gets married once in his life, we all hope.

His wedding trumps your teaching.

Find a sub.  Work it out.

You do what you have to do."

He had a group of friends over last night around 7:30

and fixed them a Japanese dish that he'd learned to prepare.

Cabbage, pork, veggies, sauce(s).

Meh.

I'm glad I don't live in Japan.

Our culinary cultures are so drastically different.

It's worked out well for him because he maintains a healthy weight this way.

I wonder if he's feeling the squeeze,

all of his friends getting married.

And now his younger brother.

What's going on in his head...

In his heart...

It remains a mystery.

It's been a good couple of weeks with him.

And now...2015.

Changes.

Beginnings.

I feel as if I'm sitting in a darkened theater,

amid hushed voices,

waiting for this long-awaited film to begin on the big screen in front of me,

without even a clue of what I'm about to see.