Speed Of Sound,- speed of life. CB, memories, and vomitting. (It’s when you can’t do anything about it anymore, that you realize how bad the wrong decisions you made, were.-AA)

So I got a job!

I’ve been re-hired as a Cracker Barrel Server, a Rising Star, a friendly waitress, –

a tired and tiny little robot.

Yesterday, I was put onto the “floor” (server slang for.. the dining room).  The full, detailed story follows.

That afternoon, as Chris kissed me goodbye and drove away, all I had anticipated (for all I had been told) was that I would be doing some computer work and would be introduced to chemicals and how to safely use/ avoid them.  Then, an hour into the course, the ETC (employee training coordinator) walked in and shared that they were shorthanded on servers and asked excitedly, “So are you ready to get on the floor?”


I was excited, because

interacting with guests and making 2x minimum wage,

was why I was there.

I was ready.

I was walked out and briefed quickly, on the way into the server alley, regarding what our DLS/DDF/soup of the day/VOD/ promos were.  I took it all in quickly as I was ushered into the dining room.  “Here; you’re taking over for Tamara,” I heard, as I saw a name scribbled out and my name sharpied in it’s place onto a dry-erase floor plan.

I counted with my eyes; 11 tables?

I was being put into an 11-table section?

On.. Sunday?

Really,- my first day back, my first 5 minutes back, in 3 months, and I’m competent to handle

half a dining room?

“Okay!” I replied, grabbed a round tray (you are NOT allowed to leave the server alley without one) and marched into my domain to survey the area and jump on any guests with open menus.

I was breathing heavily and my hands were shaking; I felt like my eyes were starting to twitch.  I hoped no one noticed.

“Just stay on top of things – ‘one stop shop, one stop shop’! put orders in immediately, keep an eye on drinks – refill until they’re ready to blow away.. remember what today’s soups are at ALL TIMES so they won’t see you struggling to remember, try to anticipate the guest’s needs and judge which ones are needier, ahem, MOODIER AND HARDER TO PLEASE, than others – pay special attention to these, be exxxtra sweet, totally patient..” I coached myself, silently, mentally, and tried to calm myself down. “You just did this for six months, Rose, and you rocked it.  This is going to be EASY.”

My first customers arrived within 3 minutes.

It was two women; a 40? year old and her “in-the-twenties” daughter.

Immediately, the hostess, Amber, hurried over to me with a warning.

“Be careful about these two.. they’re b*****s.”

Okay.. thanks.

I walked over, all gung-ho and ready to earn my 500 dollar tip.

“Hi! Welcome to Cracker Barrel!”

The older woman turned her head towards me and stared for about 5 seconds before snickering to herself, as though a clown or 5 year old had just been sent to minister to her.

“Hi (rudely).  We need afew minutes to look at the menu (what the heck are you doing here pouncing on us like this).”

“Hey, sure.. no problem!” I assured her, emphatically.  “I’ll be back whenever you need me, there is NO rush.”

At this, she looked at me again and sort of (I mean, SORT of, hallelujah!) smiled.  “..Thanks!” she said.

I smiled and walked to the back.  All of the servers were watching me (I could just tell; “she’s going to fail.”)

It’s such a competitive business.

I miss Florida.

We all loved eachother, and we worked together as a team. Here, it seems more.. hostile.  sensual.  competitive.  angry.  without compassion.


So I returned, moments later, to these adorable ones and got their drink/ food order.  Put it in, immediately, and the food wasn’t ready for over 30 minutes.

Of course, I’m the “newbie” and, naturally, they assumed that I had failed to put the order in.  Um, no.. see? The ticket?

This order, for table 131, was submitted at 3:28.

It’s now, 3:56.

It took another 10 minutes for the food to get out.

The moody ladies, however, loved me, and “raised hell” (as they, themselves, worded it) only at the manager (who had to pay for their meal).

I wish that incident was the only NEGATIVE part of my “first-day-experience,”

but no.

11 table sections.. are large.

They get filled.. fast..

on Sunday.

I got triple sat and ended up handling 6 tables at once.

It sucked.

I froze up, at the computer, and started crying.  (I can’t do this, I’m going to die.)

It was completely, totally overwhelming and I wanted to RUN out of this Cracked-out Barrel and NEVER, ever return.

“It’s okay,” the kind ETC patted me on the shoulder.  “It’s okay, don’t cry..”

He did his best to console me and, really, he was the nicest man there.  He took the food order and delivered the

drink order of a 6 top for me (table 161).  He knew, I just couldn’t handle it.  Not today.  Not when there were 2-3

other tables out there, in MY section, who hadn’t gotten their food orders put in yet, who hadn’t even been GREETED yet.

Long story short, they allowed me to leave early (which, was rightly due me — I had come to their rescue and

received some martyr’s wounds for it).  I made 30 dollars in less than 3 hours (pretty good, for the first day) and on the way out, he (ETC) said that I didn’t need to come in today (Monday); that he’d let me have a “breather” and would expect me back on Tuesday, and that on Tuesday, I would spend 4 hours shadowing a “seasoned server,” Brenda, and that would help prepare me for my “independent serving.”

“Sure thing – absolutely.  That sounds great.”

I totally didn’t mind the help, the schooling, the instruction.

(I had texted Chris previously, letting him know I’d need him to pick me up earlier than 8.)

Chris was outside on a wooden bench, waiting for me.

“Come here baby; tell me about your day.”

I sat down, he put his arm around me, and listened to my sad, sad story.

“It was awful, Chris.  I hated it.  I sucked.”

“I love you, baby.. I am so proud of you.” He kissed me, and took me out to eat at my favorite restaurant:

Olive Garden.

Isn’t that awesome?

No.  Well yes, it is.. but, I have failed to mention that

for the past 2 weeks, I’ve been on-and-off nauseous.  Yesterday, it was horrible – worse than ever.

Before we got there, I was nauseated.  While we were eating, I was nauseated.  After we left, on the way home,

I was STILL feeling sick.  (and no, I’m not pregnant; took a test, it came out negative..)

I went ‘straight to bed’ after we got home and Chris made me drink water.  Right as he was telling me it was time

for me to change out of my work clothes and into pajamas I jumped out of bed.

“Chris, I’m GOING to throw up.”  I ran to the bathroom and he followed me.

He held my hair back while I puked.

It was horrible..

but, that awful, sick feeling – that horrible anticipation that precedes all vomittings – was over.

He held a cool rag on my head, gave me more water, and I fell asleep.

Today, I feel fine. 🙂

I think it was nerves; my mind works disaster on my body sometimes.

When put in stressful situations, it hits me immediately before or after.

I’m usually fine “during;” it wasn’t until after we had pulled out of the Cracker Barrel parking lot that I noticed or realized how horrible I was feeling.  It’s like a “delayed effect.”

It’s only 60-65 degrees out this afternoon, and we’re excited about it.  It’s been in the upper 90s for weeks now.

Our plan (Chris and I’s) is to have my car title changed, call about some jobs for him, and go play frisbee.

I love being outdoors.

And I still miss my mom, still miss my dogs.  I dreamed about them last night – that I was protecting them (my four pets: 3 Siberian Huskies and a German Shepherd) from a wild, aggressive ELK, and that the elk ended up killing all of my dogs, all of my friends, and my entire family.

It was weird.

I was trying to be a hero, a savior – trying to protect and defend the ones I loved..

but eveyone, everything, that I loved, died –

and I lived, just to remember them.

To live for them.

I also still miss Melissa.

8 years of friendship.. it’s hard to comprehend how that could mean absolutely nothing to someone.

And I miss Micah and Amy.

We used to be closer.  Now, they’re busy with moving and work and a kid, and I’m busy being a grown up.

I miss Grammy and Grampy, too.

I miss having Bible studies with Gram and running errands with and for her.

I miss Sabbath walks and real-life talks with Grampy, the Big Bird who was always like a father to me.

I miss my brother, and realize now that mom and gram were right – I do regret not spending “enough” time with him.

It’s when you can’t do anything about it anymore,

that you realize how bad the wrong decisions you made, were.

And I miss my dad,

and my mommy.

It seems like everyday, I cry more and more.

Chris feels worse and worse.

She becomes a deeper, stronger, more needed friend.

Never thought, or knew, that I was (and am) so dependent on her.

So, since we aren’t going to Ukraine, we are definitely settling down here.

CB is my “get-through-college,” permanent working place and Chris is still trying to find his employment.

We want to get out of his parents’ house and find a place of our own.

We need the privacy, the space, — the license to cook whenever we want, whatever we want, and clean up messes

when it’s convenient for us.  Feel free to walk from the bathroom, after a shower, to the changing room, without being fully dressed and not worrying about someone stopping you in the hallway to chat.  To get in late at night and not have to exlain why.  Stuff like that.

I’ve also been asked, on the note of religion, to teach (about 2-3 times a month) an earliteens class at church.   I’m excited about it; any opportunity to share, to help, to enlighten, .. is from the Lord.  I plan on learning just as much, if not more, as those who I’m undertaking to teach.

I need more help than anyone;

I’m worse off than everyone else I know.

**Just because I’m losing
Doesn’t mean I’m lost
Doesn’t mean I’ll stop
Doesn’t mean I’m across

Just because I’m hurting
Doesn’t mean I’m hurt
Doesn’t mean I didn’t get what I deserved
No better and no worse

I just got lost!
Every river that I tried to cross
Every door I ever tried was locked
Oh and I’m just waiting til the shine wears off


-Aun Aqui

L-R:  Chapezo (Kayla), Cookie (me).

Newscasters on the webshow “Live: From Ma-waubi Mu-haubi.”

Youtube it.

And resolutions are the same as yesterday.

Selflessness: listening to music you DON’T like because you LOVE the person

who LIKES it. -Aun Aqui

“How long before you decide, before I know what it feels like?” -Coldplay.

So a lot has been going on, going down, transpiring, eventizing, and I’ve been moving on, and feeling down, perspiring, and


Under the spotlight, in the middle of the chaos,

in the midst of noise, in the presence of faces
(whose eyes are glued on you, who know no shame

in staring..)

That things really ARE different.

I miss my mom, a lot.  Yes, still.

Here’s a journal entry from 9/11.

“I miss, my mom.  I hate being away from my best friend — the woman who loves me and cares for all my needs.  God!  Can’t you FEEL my TEARS?..

She loves me, unconditionally.  She cares for me with sincere interst, genuine concern, gentle love, thoughtful attention..

I miss her.”

So yeah, that’s an EVERYDAY thing.

And today, I was carousing old videos of mine on Facebook and happened upon an old one of my (ex) best friend, Melissa, and I.  I began crying and just, couldn’t stop.

It’s like, it took me 4 months to realize that,

it’s over.

She’s gone..

As “gone” as my childhood, my life of singlehood and independence, my twin sized bed, my pack of dogs, my highschool career..

my past.

Everything I’ve left behind, accomplished, or turned away from.

Everything I’ve abandoned, and moved past –

said goodbye to, and imagined it passed.

I really miss her.

I mean, we were BEST friends (hardcore) for 8 years.  We were like SISTERS.  In tween-life, a best friend is huge.. bigger than life.  S/he is the most important person in your life, basically.  We talked everyday — she knew EVERY detail about me and my life, and I had the same privileged knowledge of hers.

I tried contacting her twice in the past 4 months.. once, on her birthday – to remind her that I still remembered her, loved her, and wanted her to be happy – and the second time, was afew weeks before my wedding day.  She was invited, I told her, if she felt emotionally “ready,” and “up to it.”

I didn’t get a response to either of the two emails.



I’m listening to Coldplay and finishing up some movie editing while Chris fills out job applications.  Turns out, we probably AREN’T going to Ukraine.

The missions director informed us last week that.. he hadn’t received sufficient funds from students to support us there (with housing, and a salary).  And so, we’re having our final consultation with him today at 2 o clock, over Skype.  It has been appearing that God is closing the door, but, you just never know.  Regardless, both of us are looking for jobs, JUST “in case.”  I applied at a local Cracker Barrel yesterday and have been scheduled for an interview on Thursday of this week.  The manager I spoke with said that he would be calling Matt (my former CB overseer/ manager down in Florida) and I’m positive that I’ll be getting an excellent recommendation, so, I’m pretty much employed.  Now, we’re waiting on Chris to land a job.  Then.. we can move out of here (his parents’ house) and get our own place.

It’s been difficult, the past few weeks, being here.

I’m not about to go into detail, but, let it suffice to say that..

I just feel a lot of pressure on me; to both.. be something I’m not, and hide who I am.

I’m a pretty private person and miss my independence, and my freedom.

I feel like, once Chris and I get our own apartment, I’ll have fewer obligations, responsibilities, and pressures that are now heaped upon me and unsolicited by myself.

I am very glad, however, on a more positive note, that I get along with his family.  I love his mom, adore his step-dad, and am very fond of his little sister.  They feel like “my own.”  God has blessed me; every detail of and every progressive step in Chris and I’s relationship (from strangers, to friends, to husband and wife) has been blessed of God and just absolutely


Perfection: a word that NEVER described any facet of “David and I,” the boy who possessed my heart for nearly 3 years.

Everything about us was wrong, juvenile, insincere, superficial, and forbidden.  It was a confused “love,” a strange set of circumstances, a weird and uncomfortable situation.  His sister being my best friend, his mom HATING me, him living 1000 miles away 11/12ths of the year and having no spine or backbone (no courage to stand up for, protect, and defend me)..

made everything very complicated and lousy.

“David and I” is the greatest mess God ever cleaned up for me.. the deepest hole he ever dug me out of, and the scariest fate He ever saved me from.

Every day, I’m just more and more clear-minded, and open eyed.. realizing, ever more fully, how awful life
could have been.

And it makes me love him more.


And aside from all of that, I just miss everyone.

Micah and Amy, my aunt and uncle.

They’ve been busy recently; moved out of state because he had a job transfer.  I’ve always felt a good connection with Micah, and I’ve always been able to confide in Amy.  There’s an incredible understanding between us – a tie of sympathy, empathy, compassion and.. just, “knowing.”  I miss our conversations.. I miss her company.  I just hope that, now that I’m married and living away from home and “on my own..”  that everything won’t change TOTALLY –

that everything doesn’t have to change, completely.

So that’s the “big, general, detail-less update” for now.

One last thing.

We’re getting a german shepherd,

and he shall be called BRUSTER.

As I was driving the other day, I thought to myself..

how awesome and thrilling and TERRIFYING would it be,

if all the forests,

and all the trees in them,

were really.. creatures?

Not human beings, but, similar.

Aliens.  Creatures of intelligence, planning, strategy..

with an AGENDA.

What if they are plotting —

to simultaneously, unzip their brown exteriors, climb out,

and kill us all?

Or.. something?

-Aun Aqui

“You’ve gotta spend some time, love.” (pretending in unending deceit/ just play along somehow)

It’s about 2 in the morning and I simply cannot sleep.

I climbed out of bed and crept downstairs with Polo clutched tightly in one arm and this here laptop

gripped by the other.

Just going to try to sort some things out, in my mind –

just going to try to find some reason for this troubled spirit –

to make some sense of this.

I mean, today was a lovely day..

I enjoyed church.

Chris and I cooked lunch together afterwards, at home.

Then, we went to the park and just layed out on the blanket for what seemed like hours..

he slept and I kept my eyes open, peering up into the sky, down at the grass-carpet..

I let my eyes graze along golden, sun-gilded leaves.. I continued observing as they centered

themselves upon a flock of geese across the lake, thrashing about wildly, fighting amongst themselves

and, I’m sure, enjoying every second of it.

Each breath you take – goes in, comes out

Each second you wait

Each moment, you doubt

Every step that you take – ahead, behind

Each mile you travel

Each voyage in your mind

All the pain that you’re feeling – inside, outside

All the pain is so real and

It’s hard, to find

Anything that makes sense

And anything that’s real

Anything you have that’s beautiful

That you didn’t have to steal

It’s two in the morning

And you’re thinking to yourself

If this is the place called heaven

Why do I feel like hell?

The discontent, the cut that bleeds

The depression that lingers, the fear the feeds

The doubt that haunts you,

the reality that escapes

The imagination that controls you

The truth that you hate

The truth that you always

wanted to be free

And the truth that you never

Do anything but dream

And the truth that you never

Say a word you believe

And the truth that you’ll always

live like this


in unending


(Aun Aqui)

I love being married; I love that, Chris treats me with such.. respect, love, and devotion; every day, I’m told that I’m his best friend!.. every day, we spend EVERY second together.. we fall more in love, he seems to grow sweeter and sweeter and becomes even more beautiful with every glance I give in his direction.

So why do I feel so, alone?

Why am I so.. emotional and,


This, is the puzzle piece that was supposed to make everything LOOK right –

the solution to put an end to all of this, uncertainty, I’ve been experiencing..

the “one thing” that would perfectly destroy a bleak reality and rescue me from pits of morbidity! and —

I find that, at the core,

I’m still the same.

And of course, you say,

“Of course it’s that way –

marrying someone does not change


Very well.

I don’t know.

Marrying Chris, has made me infinitely happy.  I feel understood, accepted, appreciated, ..

I have the companionship I’ve always longed for – the devotion I’ve dreamt of and craved!..

strong affections returned, deep feelings I possessed he shares, when I never imagined

it could be that way.. never thought or believed he could care, like I did.

And yet, I find myself

SO stuck in the past.

I mean,

just, all of these memories — flooding me.


Summers with Grammy and Grampy; walking to Miami Subs, where only Bobby was allowed to have mozzarella sticks, although we both wanted them, because they were too ‘expensive..’, taking the bus to the dollar theatre, playing in the pool, picking mulberries in Aunt Frances’ backyard (which paralleled Grammy’s), coloring easter eggs and reading Dr. Seuss in the big, brown chair.

Mom and Dad; how they’d fight when I was little, mom would get home late at night from working at Publix and would have brought me home a burrito from Taco Bell that, a lot of the time, wouldn’t get eaten til the next day (if eaten at all – sometimes she’d forget to ask them to ‘hold the onions’), the nights when Bobby and I would sit, anticipating, in our livingroom (who knows where we were; SC, FL) as mom put together “surprise plates” in the kitchen for us (surprise plates: she would make a plate of random, favorite, quick/easy/finger-foods of ours and it was just a great delight), dad and I’s severely terrifying roadtrips where I almost died twice, the wedding day when they were there and I saw both of my parents cry,

and then I had to say “goodbye” outside of an Italian restaurant and

walk away like nothing weird was happening,

nothing was “changing,”

“there are no tears in my eyes..”

School days; feeling privileged as I’m dubbed the “kid counter” on the bus, following my name on the “star student” chart in Mrs. Duncan’s 2nd grade class, the excitement of getting up early, dressing myself and gearing up for school every morning, the food fights, the drama, the breakups, being a newscaster, PE-only football player, skirt-wearing-vegan-weird-outcast-girl who is

friends with everyone

wants to help everyone

and never allows herself to need, anyone.


The times of conviction, the period of being “on fire..”

the excitement and joy of every day – waking up to study, pray, take care of my body, mind, family and friends.. work diligently and live purposefully..

the beautiful anticipation on the Sabbath mornings when I was privileged to take part in service — to sing, to sermonize, to teach.  The honor that such a responsibility bestowed upon me.

The pain.

Cutting, throwing up, starving myself, blocking everything out with music in my ears, black on my body, and closed eyes.  Trying to pull others up while I was drowning in my own crazy, demented, horrified


And why?

Was there ever a good reason?

Eventually, I just got tattoos.

THAT was also supposed to solve everything.

The Peters. (will I ever be able to forget that name?)

Summers, winters, phone conversations that took place everyday and lasted way too long.

Wasted time, energy, affection, means?

Was it purposeful, beautiful — is it now — can it ever be, is it SUPPOSED to be?

If you find out it was wrong,

does the past profit nothing?

And if you sing about it in a song,

Can it make sense of insanity?

“You’ve gotta spend some time,


You’ve gotta spend some time –

with me.

And I know that you’ll find, love–

I will possess

your heart.” -Death Cab For Cutie (it’s a band..)

I guess I’ll try and get some sleep now; Chris and I volunteered to help out with a church social tomorrow.

Plaster a smile on my face,

and find the button on my body,

in my mind,

somewhere in my spirit,

that says


Forget tonight – the way you pried and probed

Forget your rights – to wail, to bemoan

that everything isn’t like it used to be

neither, indeed, can it..

ever be.

Wow; talk about REVELATION.

This isn’t a temporary alternate-reality..

this is the new reality.

This, is life –

“being here now..”

this, is the result of change.

And I’m supposed to just play along,


-Aun Aqui

“Married Life;” even isolation couldn’t stop the bleed. [Don’t you shiver]

An update:

This is a 5-page (don’t run away) entry from a few days ago, followed by a present-tense synopsis of existence.

“Come on in.

I’ve got to tell you what a state I’m in.

I’ve gotta tell you in my LOUDEST tones,

that I started looking,

for a warning sign..

when the truth is

I miss you.” -Coldplay

Sometimes, we act out for attention.  Get really quiet, storm off angry.. refuse to eat, overeat.. destroy people, things, relationships, ourselves..

and I used to think it could only be stupid and wrong to do such a thing; to prefer receiving negative attention to no recognition at all..

but I’ve changed my mind.

It’s how we survive, beyond existing..

It’s how we thrive, beyond breathing.

We’re at Walmart, waiting for Chris to get his eyes examined.

“Married life,” is wonderful.  We spend every second together, we even brush our teeth together.  We cook breakfast together every morning and make it as healthy as possible.  We drive together, walk together, sleep beside eachother..

and the best part of life is falling asleep in his arms.  Last night, I fell to dreaming with my head resting up against his bare chest.  I feel safe now, all the time, wherever I go,

because he’s with me.

And the best part of life

is waking up to his soft kisses and the warmth of his closeness; feeling him pull me close with his arms and hold me with his leg draped over mine.  We relate our dreams (for both of us always dream) and communicate, once again, how much we love eachother..

how amazed we are, by eachother

how in awe we are, OF eachother –

and how thankful we are, for eachother.

More than once (last night, it happened again) I’ve stared into Chris’s eyes and become overwhelmed by the magic and wonder of “him..”  All I can do is cry.. he holds me close and consoles me, running his hand through my hair and up and down my back, whispering softly, “it’s okay, I’m here..” and I clutch him tighter, I draw him closer, I pull him nearer towards me..

I’ve never been so needy, felt so childlike, loved so strongly, so honestly, and been completely unashamed

of it all.

I terrify myself by imagining how easily life could have been so miserably and disappointingly,


and how kind I am, to use such a SOFT word,

when in absolute truth,

in perfect reality,

an alternate way of life, any other course, would have been horrendously awful, blood-chilling, heart-breaking, mind-blowingly DEVASTATING,

driving me to depression, and despair,

where death is most desired and even solitude can’t provide the answers I need..

where even isolation can’t stop the bleed.

I’ve realized, recently, that in addition to being fond of my company (which alone is flooring, astounding), Christopher actually does need me.  He has a lot of anxiety and insecurity; while he is social and can relate beautifully with this, the human race, his being cannot be so well understood and cared for by anyone other than myself..

And so, this — this duty (which is a delight), this, sacrifice (for truly, in marrying, you leave all to follow one — you let go of everything to receive one thing) – which is a pleasure –

is my life’s calling..

the highest station to which I ever will be (and ever could be,) called.

To love, care for, improve the life experience of, to edify, to encourage, to inspire, challenge and nurture my Christopher.

This is my dream –

and as it comes true, the ghostly past ceases to haunt me.

And as it’s a reality –

the future has never been more promising.

(laaaast page)

Chris just had his eye exam done, poor thing was (and still is) nervous.

In regards to the PETERS,.. the former friends who composed the very FRAMING of my life..

I, still think about them a lot.  Especially Melissa. Mom says she still thinks about them a lot, too; wonders what they’re thinking, and how they’re feeling, about everything.

I just wonder if their world has changed as much as mine has; if it’s better, like mine is..

I wonder if all they remember about me is the negative and the unlovely..

I wonder if they choose to think of me, or it just happens —

if it’s everyday that I slip into their minds, or if they’ve successfully forgotten.

I guess I’m barred from their future,

but I can never erase them from my past.

And something huge to realize:

I really hope they’ve found happiness at last. Because they never had it before.

and It isn’t REALLY my past –

it’s theirs, mine, and ours.

-Aun Aqui

(end of entry)

So yes, that’s about where I’m at.

Adjusting to this new life, this new stage, phase, part of life – growing, developing, understanding myself and everything around me better, in a deeper, more honest sort of way – seeing things in a new light, more clearly, it’s all really a coherent whole..

recognizing that there are trees, and there are shadows..

there are deep waters, and there are shallow

There is a voice, and there is singing..

there is a cry, a blanket of black, and bleeding.

There is so much I’ve tried to hide,

so much I’ve wanted to forget —

but now it means everything to me,

and the sun is finally allowing herself to set

Because I’ve seen everything I wanted to see

and I’ve been everything I needed to be

and now the future turns around and

I’m free.

And now the future takes my hand

and I’m free.

What else is there to see?

Is there something else I can and should be?


I’ve really been missing my mom.

Typed out a quick e-mail to her last night; calling her on Chris’s cell phone later today..

She really is my best friend.

I started crying yesterday evening and Chris just held me close and listened as I sobbed out the story of

Sierra and me.

How we’d watch Icarly together in the evening and give eachother backrubs..

how we’d drive in the car and even if it was Sierra against the world, she’d always confide in me..

how we’d have deep conversations that I always wanted to believe she’d learn something from and would understand..

how she’d push me on the shopping cart as I sang out to her in silly voice, as I called out to her in silly tone..

how no matter how late it was when I got home from work, she’d be laying on the couch in the living room, lights off even, waiting to hear the door open and close so we could talk..

We’d go everywhere together, do everything together.

No one had ever loved me so wholly, so fully, accepted me so unconditionally, enjoyed my company so thoroughly and truly..

I’ll never trust anyone like Sierra.

I’ll never love anyone like Sierra.

I’ll never need anyone, like I need my mother.

And it’s so hard to accept that..

our old life of “together,”

is over.

And music.

And religion.

Well, Chris and I are totally, completely MESMERIZED by Coldplay.  I’ve listened to every album, every song, MULTIPLE times, and have fallen more in love as their spirit and energy have entirely “meshed” with mine.  We’re going to cover Parachutes, X and Y and A Rush of Blood To The Head.  Don’t know if this will be BEFORE or AFTER our 9-month trip to Ukraine (where yes, it’s official, we’ll be doing mission work — waiting on visas).

My devotional life, hassss suffered, yes.  I’m not going to lie.  The fence is broken, caving, chipped, tattered.  I can paint it white and support it with even weaker items, stable the stakes with stones and top each wooden plank with something deocrative, attractive, and lovely

but it’s still broken,

it’s still awful.

Chris and I have been trying to eat healthier, read more, and exercise more as well.

I don’t know what’s missing; motivation, purpose,.. which, leads to a lack of discipline, control, and

seeing the sense in life.

Finding the order of things.

I am a creature of habit – I love to have a schedule.. and, right now, this “inbetween” period, where we’re jobless wanderers in the US who are about to go out and labor as english-teaching SDA Christians in Ukraine, Europe, sucks.

Just waiting for some glue, gum, tape, nails..

something sticky, something strong, something heavy, something whole.

-Aun Aqui