New Beginnings

Miss Tyler Gabriele (Yes, one 'L') made her world debut this afternoon at approximately 3:30 Central time (My brother and his wife live in Virginia).

She weighed in at 6 lbs 9 oz.

According to the parental figure, who called to give me the news while I was at work, there were a few complications during my sister-in-law's labor (she had to have a cesarean) and the baby's vital signs dropped a bit low and she had to fight a bit, but after a short time everyone was okay and doing well.

I, on the other hand, am one big sobbing mess.

You see, this little girl doesn't realize it yet, but her birth and life will forever be very important to both of her families.

My brother is 23 at the moment; his wife, 20. Up until now he could have had two other children. He had a different girlfriend when he was 17 and she ended up having a miscarriage at five months.

It nearly killed him.

She (my brother's wife) could have had two as well. She was pregnant with another man's child before and had an abortion.

This last time, about three years ago my brother's wife (then girlfriend) got pregnant. She was only 17 and still staying with her parents and going to highschool. My brother was already in the Navy and at the time was home on leave before he left for basic training.

Her parents, step-father especially, were pissed that she got pregnant and basically gave her an ultimatum. One of three things were going to happen: either a) she have an abortion, b) they press charges against my brother for statutory rape or c) she moves out. Being a 17-year old expectant mother and student with only a part time job wasn't going to cut it so that choice was pretty much out.

My brother wanted this child more than anything in the world, yet at the same time (and understandably) didn't want to risk calling her old man's bluff and getting thrown in jail so he did what he thought best. He left the choice up to her.

And after so many days and what I assume to be long, heartfelt conversations with my brother she made what was probably one of the toughest decisions of her life.

She had the abortion.

And this time it nearly killed both him and her. How they managed to remain together after all they went through I honestly don't know. But they did. And now they have a daughter who will forever be somewhat of a miracle for them. After so much heartache and regrets and "what ifs" they finally have something to share that will stand for all the love and work they put into their relationship.

My niece.

She is the first grandchild for either of the four parents involved.

I am her only blood related aunt.

She has five blood related uncles (my three other brothers and two more on her mom's side).

She is a fighter. As are we. We all fought for this little girl.

She is bi-racial.

She has black hair.

From what my brother tells me she looks like her mother.

She is tiny.

She is perfect . . .


. . . and she is ours.



Random thought of the day: 21 days!!!

Show and Tell

Someone told me yesterday that I look a lot like my father.

So anyway, I was off yesterday and today, however by the lack of sleep and food and the sudden attack of midday naps you wouldn't know that. I swear I'm more exhausted after two off days than I am after working two weeks straight.

Go figure.

But as I was saying, I find myself surrounded by wedding craziness the past couple days. My best friend, Andrea, is getting married in August. I am her maid of honor.

Heh.

It's my first time being a maid of honor.

Actually it's my first time even being IN a wedding.

And I'm nervous. Not only is she counting on me to make sure all hell doesn't break loose, but I know I have a speech to make at the reception and I have the GREAT (note the sarcasm here) honor of walking down the aisle with her groom's little brother, Chad.

Chad and I have a . . . history.

We went on ONE {(forced) blind} date, on my birthday, two years ago. Apparently Andrea and her boyfriend thought he and I would make a 'good' couple.

Ha. I still haven't forgiven her for that date.

Don't get me wrong, the date wasn't all THAT bad. We all went to Kemah the day after my birthday and ate dinner and went on what could have been a very romantic boat ride at sunset had Chad and I known one another a little longer. On the way home we sat in the backseat and talked in whispers and started falling asleep on one another's shoulders (Something about the water does that to me).

As we're dropping him off the other two leave us alone in the backseat and yeah, I'll admit, there was a few kisses, but that was it. No groping or heavy breathing or gum swapping of any kind.

The End. Right?

WRONG.

The phone calls started the day after. At first I thought it was kind of sweet, but then the guy just started showing stalker tendencies, wanting to know where I was when I wasn't answering his calls at all hours of the day and overanalyzing what I perceived to be a very innocent goodnight kiss.

According to him, however, my lips were telling him, "Marry me, now."

Alright, I know body language can say a lot, especially a kiss, but when you start talking about how your mama said you two would "make some pretty kids," it might start to scare a girl.

And I thought it was the woman who was supposed to confuse sex with commitment.

So anyway, yeah, I'm forced to walk down the aisle with this guy. I'll be wearing my Nike's instead of heels and practically running down the aisle. Unless of course I can get Andrea to switch the best man (Chad) and the next guy in line and then I'll get a chance to walk with Andrea's brother Marcus, which is just fine by me seeing as to how we're already buddies, and he's married so there won't be any tomfoolery of any kind. We'll get wasted together but I doubt we'll be making out, especially since his wife is standing in the wedding as well.

But I have to remember this is her wedding and not mine.

I'm selfish. I can't help it.

Random thought of the day: 25 days!!!

Father's Day

Two people, friends of mine and my brother's, called to wish my mother a Happy Father's day.

*Smiles*




Random thought of the day: 30 days!!!

FF

A recent letter to my fiance:

"Dear {Nickname withheld},

Working with the public I am constantly asked, "How are you doing?" Whether or not the question is being asked because the person is being polite or because they genuinely care about my well being they recieve the same answer, "Spiffy."

Now, you don't hear the word 'Spiffy' very often. Rarely as a matter of fact. The word has all but become extinct, just like 'tresses' and 'lad' and 'yonder.' But I like it. I can't remember where I picked it up or even when I started using it in my daily conversation, but I use it constantly, either getting a strange look or a small laugh from whomever is asking the question.

I think it has a lot to do with the fact that it contains a double 'f.'

I have a 'thing' about that. I like the word "waffles," too (plural). I don't eat very many waffles because I can't use syrup because syrup makes me gag, and yeah, long story, but it's another word I like.

So you could imagine my excitement if you ever developed a stutter and we were in bed one night and you reached over, grabbed me passionately and whispered in my ear, "F-f-f-f-f-f-f-uck me!"

{Laughs} Yeah . . . I know."


And this is a "normal" letter for me (between him and I anyway).




Random thought of the day: 39 days!!!

Pain: How would you handle it?

I spent an hour in a chat room talking to some girl I barely know. Naturally we were talking about (what else) sex.

And before you guys go and get all hot and bothered let me stop you in your tracks and say, it wasn't what you think.

She told me about a time she got raped, the babies she miscarried and lost and things of that nature. She didn't come off as the type that was trying to gain sympathy nor did she try and belittle my experiences when I told her what happened to me when I was younger. She listened, asked a few questions, as I did with her and she laughed.

She was self-conscious about her looks and weight and complained of being "fat," but not to the point where one would yell, "Would you shut the hell up already." No, she said she was in the process of losing weight, but wouldn't let the numbers on the scale rule her life. She appeared optimistic about the whole thing. And throughout our entire conversation something my co-worker said kept replaying itself in my head.

He mentioned that he'd never feel bad for anyone. He would and is capable (we worry about him sometimes) of sympathizing with someone, but would never feel sorry for them because he wouldn't want anyone feeling sorry for him.

{Yes there is a difference, but I'm too tired to explain.}

And you know, I'm almost certain said girl would have stopped chatting long before we got into the rapes and miscarriage had I kept saying, "I'm sorry," for everything that had happened before she mentioned that. I don't think she was necessarily looking for a shoulder to cry on, maybe someone to listen to her, but she didn't seem like she wanted to cry. So why feel bad for her?

What happened didn't kill her. She seems to have a good grip on reality and her life and what she wants, add to the fact that I personally know a bit about what she went through and I know what it's like to have to live through it everyday of your life. She's well adjusted as far as I know. She kept her humor about her.

And it's people like her who are able to laugh at life's stupid, petty problems that make me realize that society tends to feel sorry for the wrong kind of people. Just because someone is handed a bad hand in the game of life doesn't mean it's time to fold.

It's the people who've never felt pain in the way that makes them question their own life. You know those kind of people who get everything handed to them and their parents live to be like ninety after dying of old age and marry their highschool sweetheart and have five kids and live "happily ever after?"

Yeah, imagine if one day tragedy struck them. How would THEY handle it when they've had no practice?




Random thought of the day: Six weeks to the day!

Pit Stops

There's a map of the United States hanging above my lamp on my wall. On it are thumb tacks holding small scraps of paper with my friends' names on them, placed within the state they currently live in. Since I started this almost three years ago I've moved them several times. At first it looked like a giant, lopsided circle, now, with more thumb tacks and more names it looks like the inside of my head: chaotic.

I love my friends.

The wanderers, the movers and shakers, the hitchhikers and the ones who go to extremes in search of a dream, a school, a job, or a girl.

The thumbtack in New Jersey is Robert (originally from Korea). He seriously contemplated marrying a girl so she could get her green card. He's the guy I came across one night last year in a dominoes chat room and then we met face to face in Miami four weeks after that.

John's (originally from Kansas) scrap of paper, currently in Altoona, Florida, is the most recent one even though I've known him the longest. It's been going on four years since we started corresponding. His mom recently got back in touch with me and I found out he and some friends will be taking a road trip next week and he may drop by for a visit. This guy is notorious for dropping everything and just taking off.

My fiance (originally from Michigan) is in his home state at the moment. {Laughs} In his travels he's covered all but three states: California, Oregon and Hawaii. We're determined to buy an RV one day and travel the country for months at a time.

T.J. (originally from Georgia) is John's cousin and currently resides in Salina, Kansas. He wants to pull a Forest Gump and buy a shrimp boat and become rich that way. Hey if he can pull it off (and knowing him he will) it'd be awesome.

My ex (originally from Miami) is in the Army and is based in Lawton, Oklahoma. I'm actually surprised he joined the Army seeing as to how he's incredibly close to his family. I doubt he'll stray very far once he gets out but even still, the experience must have been one of a kind for him.

Now, I would have mentioned that Lacy (originally from Utah) & Willy (not sure where he was born, but it was either WY, NV or UT) were in Rock Springs, Wyoming, but I just found out (literally an hour ago) that they moved to Olympia, Washington!!! They don't know how stoked I am for them. These guys, heh, they're determined to find a school they "fit into." They've traveled to Florida last year to check out colleges, but quickly dismissed the idea because they weren't well accepted by the locals. So they went back to Wyoming and tried applying elsewhere and a few weeks ago they found out WA wants them! They're looking into grad schools In Texas or Utah as we speak (after they finish in Olympia). And I'm looking into plane tickets to the West Coast so I can see them.

From WA state come all the way down south, head east, swing by my hometown of Houston, Texas and you'll end up in southern Louisiana where this guy lives. I swear he's been everywhere with me because I document everything and have tons of crap from all these places, everything from dream catchers to keychains and postcards to T-shirts and photographs. He's seen parts of the country through my eyes. It's been one hell of a ride.

And my mom wonders why I have a thing for strays.

Heh.

Their stories!

Read this book: On The Road. After reading it I DARE you not to tell me you aren't itching to find out what life has to offer outside the little box you live in!



Random thought of the day: My vacation next month!