it has been a long week and i can’t wait for this week to be over. last night after our work out jack & i decided we want to go and eat at king tut’s in philly & i was speeding & got stopped by a cop. i was like oh no, as he was the same cop who stopped me for speeding a couple of months earlier. i was sitting there, in the car, twiddling my thumbs & hoping he wouldn’t recognize me because he didn’t give me a ticket last time. fyi, i get stopped a lot for speeding but no tickets. and no, i don’t show my boobs or bat my eyelashes and flirt (i’m a feminist); i just smile J and what can i say, this girl likes speeding & my lexus boy is tricked up to speed and drag race. so the cop came up to me & started lecturing me about not speeding, that i am pretty & that they (who are they?) all want me to live etc., etc., and i laughed out as it was quite funny; and he goes, “you are bmw x5 ! i thought i recognized you”; umm, that’s not my name but yes, that was me. well long story short, he wants to teach me a lesson, and he wants me to go to hearing in the traffic court & that he would tell the judge to let me off without paying the ticket. fine, whateves !

this week has been rough in terms of working out at the gym & i worked out long hours. i usually tend to tire myself out when i don’t want to think too much about my life or my feelings.

life is full of surprises and twists. full of happy little things & full of sad little things. this evening on the way to the super market to get a roast chicken for my kids and bananas & avocadoes for me (i’m a dancer & so i get cramped if i don’t have enough potassium) and i saw this father at the trolley stop, holding his little boy, singing to him and dancing & rocking gently with his son. this scene made me so happy. there’s something about men holding & playing with their kids. it looks so special. i especially love to look at the photos of shirtless men with little kittens or cats or little kids. and internet is full of them. i want to be a mum but i don’t think it’s gonna happen. or i’d be like sarah and i’d be in my 90s & my abraham would be in his 40s… J

at the market i also wanted to get eggs, so i was trying to pick up a carton of eggs, and this lady next to me says “take this one as this is half price and you get more eggs”. true but i am a vegetarian, i eat only free range eggs but she wouldn’t leave so i picked up what she told me to get & went around a whole aisle and came back to pick up my brand of eggs.

when i was checking out, there’s a lady who was talking to me about the avocados and i was telling her how good they are, and as a vegetarian i can’t do without this fruit. she fell silent & kind of glancing at my shopping & i explained to her that the roast chicken is for my cats. lol and note to self: don’t talk about me being a vegetarian when there’s a big fat roast chicken in my cart.

i always get into situations like this at the market. one time, i was getting fruit and this middle eastern jewish gentleman, with very thick accent told me that his wife gave him a list and on that list are clementines, and asked me if i’d help him find the clementines, so i abandoned my shopping to find his elusive fruit and soon after i realized that there is a whole clan of shoppers looking for his clementines. i soon trotted off home and i often wonder about what happened to the clementine story.

we all have a story to tell and sometimes we are honest with our stories and sometimes we are not. we have reminders and remainders at the end of it all… figurative paper cuts, invisible scars, noticeable bruises, dog-eared memory holders; sincere stories; unaffected stories; sometimes artless; sometimes tangible; sometimes raw;

my story is no different; it’s a clumsily written history; sometimes hard to read; sometimes sleepless nights; sometimes long drives to nowhere; sometimes coffee with cream and sugar; sometimes cuddles with cats; sometimes hikes in the mountains where the sun soaks my skin & soul; my words stumble & slip; and i paint careful details in between the breaths and syllables; my sense is irregular; my thoughts inconsistent; but i argue, a true story isn’t told or written. it’s felt.

the days i feel alive are few and far between but they are there. i had one today. i always feel as if i were enveloped in a jello so if i smile or cry it doesn’t matter. sometimes a carousel of happy memories spin and spin behind my closed eyelids. and whoosh, sadness comes when i wasn’t looking and takes away the feeling of laughter and all that mattered to me ceased to exist leaving me nothing but a broken heart.

last night, lying on bed, i was thinking this is it. this is what my life has come to; empty, scared and completely alone. it was one of those moments where you think to yourself that this is bad, and if you’re thinking that, you know it has to be bad. there is no solution, no escape, but to just keep going; stumbling, bumbling, tripping.

i smiled when i got this verse for my morning devotion; “i have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.” isaiah 43: 1. i want to put something together which my brain can’t comprehend and there are a million things running through it and all calling out at me and i am in such an awe to be told that i am his. god’s grace shines through my sadness and he truly is my light and sunshine, my homing beacon, my lighthouse in a tempest and he is my guiding star. i am so in love with him and when i try and put how much i love you into words i always come up short, because there are no words to explain that you are more than everything to me. i am unashamed in saying that i love my savior and my friend jesus christ and my relationship with god is on the top of my list of things to keep in a good robust state.

i look at the creation and the creation looks back at me. the moon shines on me, the wind carries away my worries; the mountains greet me by my name; my cats hug me & give me little love bites. i bow and worship and i whisper back to my god “vous avez fait les étoiles brillent juste pour moi”

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