Last night I dreamed I was babysitting Nicole's baby. For any of you who don't know Nicole, she's my best friend (whom I've know since eigth grade), and she's really, really pregnant. It was a cool dream, complete with the sensation of holding the baby against my shoulder, and the smell of baby head. In my dream, the baby was really chubby, which was surprising because Nicole is tiny, and I don't think the baby will be heavier than six pounds in real life. Anyway, it was SO awesome, and I can't wait to be an Aunt!!!

Today's kind of a sad day in Colorado. It seems that half the state is ablaze, and sooty clouds of air have moved in over the entire valley (referred to as the "Front Range), which makes it seem like a giant storm is brewing. It doesn't help that everything is making me want to cry today. I'm not sure why that is, I think I just miss the daily human interraction I left behind in San Jose. I know it's good for me to get away and do some soul-searching, but it's just not really my style, makes me feel naked and abandoned. The good news, however, is that I went for a drive yesterday and found a beautiful park with a view of mountains and jutting rocks just perfect for figuring your life out among. I walked along the trails and sat down for a while and just watched and listened. Have you ever just sat, closed your eyes, and tried to pick out every single separate sound that you could hear? It's incredibly meditative. I had a nice, relaxing run of it until I opened my eyes and realized that the entire ground around my booty was moving. Ants in my sandals and on my feet, I decided to get up and walk again. If any of you want to come visit me in Colorado, I'll take you there (with a blanket). You will not be disappointed.

Yesterday my Dad rented a Harley and went out riding with some of his friends from work. When he got back he and I went for our own ride, and man oh man, it made me miss riding!! This morning we went out again, and as we were about to take this little curve, my Dad broke harder than was necessary for what seemed like no reason whatsoever, and we headed into the curve really slowly. As we were rounding the curve, a HUGE-ass dog walked into the road, and my Dad had to go into the other lane to avoid hitting it. When we were pulling away, he said, "I don't know why I broke like that, I guess I just sensed something."

More proof for my theory that riding motorcycles puts one in-touch with their intuition. It's something about the open air that gets your mind wandering into all these places that you didn't even know existed, and you are all of a sudden the smartest person you know. I was riding on the back of my ex-boyfriend's bike when it occurred to me that he was a lying meanie. I was on the back of his bike when I realized that he was cheating on me. And I was riding a bike that I myself had rented when I figured out who he was cheating on me with. I guess, in a way, I sensed a big-ass dog of my own. But anyway, riding is like that.

Riding around in the hills yesterday made me think of the trip that he and I took out here (from San Jose) a few years ago. Thinking about it now, I can't believe we made it all this way. His starter broke in Yosemite (the very first day) and from there on out we were parking on hills and push-starting it, and leaving the engine running when we got gas. Now, ex-boyfriend was not a big fan of anything that detracted from the sleak and powerful look of his Fat Boy. So a back-rest was not happening, and a nice, cushy, comfortable seat for me was out of the question. I ended up riding all the way out here on what looked like 1/6 of a tire, and it was about as soft. On the last day, about 30 miles away from our final destination, we pulled off the road in the Rockies for a little break. We parked on a hill, but I guess we didn't park up high enough, or else the bike was just SICK and tired of going, because it would NOT start. We pushed and pushed and I don't know if you've ever tried to push-start a Harley on flat ground, but let me tell you it was HARD, and I started to cry after it didn't start on the 7th attempt. Characteristic of ex-boyfriend, he chose to yell at me rather than sympathize. He said, "What are you doing crying?! Crying is not going to get it started!!!!" (in a thick, German accent). He had a point, and his lack of TLC pissed me off...so much so that I put my everything into that last push, and the thing finally kicked up. I'm sure, now, that he did it on purpose (pissed me off), and it worked. All in all, though, I wouldn't have minded sitting on the side of the road and pouting a bit. I had earned the right, had never complained once about my swollen ass and the fact that I was just TIRED of riding behind his big, stupid head. Sorry, I just had to get that out.

So anyway, the bike has been returned, and I've decided that I want to buy one some day. What an incredible thing...to have the wind all around you and to be able to smell all the smells and feel the curves of the road. If you've never ridden (even on the back), you should give it a try. Somehow, in some way, it's like being connected with nature, and we could all use a little more of that (especially us San Jose residents).

And just to clarify, part of what's making me want to cry about everything today has nothing to do with being sad. Do you ever want to cry because everything is just so beautiful? If not, then I'm sure that sounds weird, but I think that everybody I know could identify with this feeling. Because I still haven't been officially hired anywhere and have a lot of time on my hands, I was watching A Baby Story on T.V. earlier today. I don't normally watch that show as I am years away from wanting a baby of my own, and in that state of mind, all the babies on the show come out looking the same. Today was different, though. When the featured Mama's baby came out and the doctor handed him to her, she kept saying, "Oh, my beautiful baby, oh my beautiful baby, thank you God, thank you God." It was the 'thank you God' that got me, got me all choked-up and watery-eyed, thinking about what an amazing thing it really is. And what a gift. In that way, I envy Nicole. Her body is doing the most incredible thing the human body can do...creating new life...a WHOLE NEW LIFE - where there was NOTHING before. It blows my mind, and she is going to be a great, great mother. I can only hope to know that kind of miracle some day.

What a fun day!!!! I woke up this morning without a care in the world (despite the fact that I owe a few different credit card companies a whole bunch of money and I still have no job to speak of). That will probably change soon...I've decided to go back to my old overnight stocking position at Target. Mindless work is just the way to go sometimes.

It's been a Father/Daughter afternoon. Pops came home early from work...we were gonna go to some boring banquet for something rather (I was supposed to step in for the Moms, who left for California this morning for a weekend getaway), but I convinced him that we should stay home and watch the Laker game instead (it wasn't too hard), so I'm killing time in anxious anticipation.

We decided to go to Boston Market for dinner (because my Ma has a problem with mass-produced chicken products, and this was our chance to grub on some for a night), and my Dad did this thing there that was SO typical of my Dad, and cute in that way that it can only be when you're no longer in middle school and embarrassed by this sort of thing. We were ordering, and I ordered this meal that comes with chicken and two sides. My Dad ordered chicken and three sides, and when he saw the plate the guy was gonna put it on, he goes, "when you order three sides are the plates just divided into smaller sections?" (Pops LOVES food! :) He said it in a really serious way, cuz he was, and he sounded just a slight bit upset. The kid who was shlepping the grub looked confused, and my Dad added, "because they looked like the same sized plate." The funny thing is that I was thinking the exact same thing, I just don't think I would have said anything about it. I was asking myself what my Dad was expecting to happen from the exchange (like, the kid couldn't possibly change the size of the plate right then), and then the kid said, "I could give you more of everything," in this way that sounded like he was totally scared. I forget sometimes that my Dad is a 6'4" 220-pound intimidating figure to those who don't know whatta gentle goof he really is. So I guess he got what he wanted out of the deal. The kid rung us up and asked if we wanted drinks in this way like he was expecting my Dad to reach over the counter and grab him by the collar, screaming that "NO, we don't want any damned drinks!!!!!" But we totally wanted drinks, and we just smiled politely.

Sometimes it's nice to eat with men because they don't mind if you're more interested in your chicken than conversation.

Don't get me wrong, I love talking and joking with my Dad, but it's a very low-pressure sort of relationship. And to explain the chicken part...I finally realized why I've always liked that "Swingin'" song so much (the one I mentioned about two weeks ago). It's because of the line where John Anderson says, "Mama's in the kitchen cuttin' chicken up to fry." When I was a little girl, fried chicked was my favorite food in the whole world. Every birthday I wanted to go to this restaurant near Anaheim, California called the Big Yellow House. It was a chicken place made out of this old victorian-style house, and I just LOVED it. There's a picture of me with a big plate FULL of chicken bones sitting in front of me on my 5th birthday. Of course, everybody had been using the plate, but it was a funny picture. Come to think about it, my parents really seemed to dig on that kind of humor. My Dad used to always fall asleep watching T.V. in the evenings (still does, actually). One time, he was lying on the floor on his back in the living room, and my Mom took all these Twinkies out of their wrappers and put the wrappers on his chest and all over the floor around him and then took a picture. It was like he passed out cuz of all the Twinkies or something. Those wacky Konrads! So anyway, I think that when I was little and heard the part about the Mama cuttin' up the chicken, I just let my mind wander and imagined that I would get in on some of that. Cheap cheap, cheap cheap thrills.

Anyway, it's about time for the game, and my Dadio's saving a spot for me on the couch. Go Lakers!!!

Mmmm, remember PeeWee's Playhouse? Of course you do. Well, I've got a word for the day. Today's word is........drumroll.......LOVE (I hope you're all screaming). Why would I pick such a HUGE little word? Because I feel like it, and because I'm presently trying to understand some previously misunderstood facets of this HUGE little word. My thoughts and my desire to understand were prompted by an article I read this afternoon titled, "Is There a Better Way to Love?" I didn't plan on getting much out of this article, seeing as I glanced ahead and saw that it was only three pages long (what can you say in three pages?!), but I decided to go ahead and give it a chance to change my way of thinking (you can say a lot in three pages).

The article was written by a man who was interviewing the Buddhist teacher Joseph Goldstein, founder if the Insight Meditation Society. What he has to offer on the subject is the idea that love and attachment are two separate concepts completely, which cannot possibly co-exist. Goldstein asserts that love is made of a giving energy, and that attachment is based in the act of holding. He says, "We've been bamboozled into thinking that attachment gives us something, provides some security for love. But it doesn't enhance love in any way. How could holding ever enhance giving? Instead of creating a relationship of beauty, attachment creates a bond of fear." Ok, this is something that I've been hearing about for years and years, but I can honestly say that it's never sunk in until recently. I think I finally understand the idea of "if you love something, let it go." I mean, I understood it in the literal sense...if you love your girlfriend, and she goes far far away for college, but she comes back in four years and wants to be together again, well, then that certaining seems like love (if it's meant to be, it'll come back to you). The part that I think I hadn't gotten until now, is that this concept is true even if the test is not letting somebody go in the physical sense. You have to let go even as the person is sitting right beside you. I am reminded of something that somebody once said to me about love. They said, "I don't want to be with somebody because I have to, because I don't think I could live without them. In fact, I want to know that I could live without them, that way I'll know we're together simply because we lift each other up...not because we would sink without each other." Ok, maybe it wasn't said in that many words, but the sentiment remains unchanged, and I think the statement really coincides with the article.

I want to relax in love. I don't want to be jealous, scared, or coast through things with my defenses up. I think that's a BIG part of the problems that people experience in relationships...defenses. When I say coast, it's because I think that having defenses up keeps people from experiencing the depths of love, it's like coasting over the surface of the water instead of just diving in. And I mean love in every area. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just see our loved ones, feel them and what it's like to love and be loved by them, and then just relax instead of trying to control every last little thing? I think so...I'm gonna try letting go a little bit, see where that takes me.