What Kind Of Neighbor Are You?

Years ago, I learned a very valuable and important life lesson. It may even be one of THE most important of them all. (And trust me, there are many)

Neighbors...

I was so young and naïve when I moved out of my parent's house and into the big world of well...ya know...reality. Into an apartment complex amidst a small town. Somehow, my parents had managed to protect me from much of the world's strange and unusual traits, gossip, and overall ick. We lived so far into the mountains that we literally had no cable until I was around 17 years of age and my grandmother often times used the word “strumpet” to describe certain women on local TV. That is about all I was equipped with.

But I quickly began to notice and learn things, on my own.

One of these things just so happened to be communal living. Growing up out in the country was such an inconvenience when I was younger, but I quickly began to appreciate the privacy, once I became a card carrying “adult”.

Flash forward alllllmost 14 years, take a step back, and evaluate. After living in complexes of various forms, developments, and well...New York, I quickly learned to essentially keep to myself. It isn't that I dislike the idea of being neighborly and sharing stories about my personal life with those who dwell around me. No. That isn't it at all. I am actually the paragon of the “sweet neighbor girl”. And this is where it gets hairy.

When certain neighbors know they can come into your house, let their kids run into your house, open your fridge and grab sodas, use your computer because they do not have internet, or any other thing you could possibly think of, they WILL take advantage of the “sweet neighbor girl”. So after learning this YEARS ago while living in my first house, I essentially decided that being “mysterious neighbor girl”, was a far better deal. I will admit, after having moved around A LOT, this decision has definitely saved me and mine, many times.

Example: I love to be outside. The sunshine is like some sort of drug for me. I love to go out, read, write, listen to some music, get a little bit of color, and just tune out the world for a bit. When living in close proximity to others, this can become awkward.

I am outside wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses, cutoffs and a strapless top, book in hand (sometimes reading, sometimes writing), and plugged into a music source of some sort. I answer the occasional text because one such woman of mystery must keep up with her equally esoteric comrades, and usually am sipping on some sort of iced coffee situation.

First, let us place this scenario on an army base. I do not feel the urge to elaborate on that particular situation. But luckily, everyone basically keeps to themselves, despite my overt presence. And do you know why? Mystery can be intimidating and intimidation can be scary and scary is what we are aiming for! Okay, so I digress...that is a bit excessive.

MYSTERY NEIGHBOR GIRL  
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COIN

As mystery neighbor girl, I am the topic of much discussion and hear more about myself from the neighbors I only speak to in passing, than the neighbors I actually do know. You see, I have this life...and it's kinda cool. And when the hot fiance begins to become a topic, that is when you know you have, without a shadow of a doubt, achieved MYSTERY NEIGHBOR STATUS. 

The more people coming and going from mystery neighbors residence, the better. It throws them off their axis. Just when they think I am going to zig, I zag! 


One must keep them guessing at all times.

They call me “Sunshine”. Why do they call me this? Because my vanity plate says it and they do not know my real name. I like that...very much.

Whenever I go somewhere, whether it be with friends, a date, or just a solo excursion into the big bad city, the entire development begins to buzz. I have this tendency to go out at night quite a bit. I have friends all over the country who are musicians and I love to go listen to them perform. If a neighbor ever catches me on the way to my car, they say a simple “hello”, step out of the way, and that is that. 

Sort of...

The next day, “What time did Sunshine come in this morning?” Because you know, if you go out at night, you MUST be up to something...mysterious.

If I am inactive for a few days in a row, writing or just making calls or emailing, it is a new story. “Sunshine hasn't been out in awhile. She's all hold up in her apartment.” And so on. 

It is cyclical and it is hilarious.

They know when I come and go. When I write outside. When I relax on my deck.When I go out for the night. When I stay up late. What I drive and when, but not where! What my friends drive. The way I dress. The color of my hair, and so on....

But my name?

People are so cute.

That "I Am Thankful For" Blog.

For the past two years, I have neglected to write my annual Thanksgiving blog for various reasons. In November 09, I was in New York having Thanksgiving with the Archdeacon's. I had to include this for the pure and simple fact that it makes me sound very important and Holy. You've gotta love last names! 

Then last November, I was in the DC area with Josh's family, traveling from house to house, scrounging for leftovers at 12AM. Black Friday wasn't as insane as I assumed it would be in DC, but I am definitely grateful to be staying in for this one. I have most of my Christmas shopping done already and really have no desire to deal with the crowds after all of the Champagne and Sex On The Beaches I had yesterday. (Yes, the drink you perverts)

I am thankful for a great many things and honestly have no idea where to begin.

I look back on my life 5 years ago and honestly do not see myself as I was then. It seems like a lifetime ago, and maybe it was. Regardless, that is where I would like to begin.

I am thankful for my strong sense of self and identity. The willpower that I have been immensely blessed with and the bravery God has given to me, time and time again. All of the new things that my former life was holding me back from have all been made a reality. I am uncertain of where that girl has gone to, but exit stage left, she did. And now, I am who I have been destined to be all along.

I am thankful for my friends and family. Yesterday, I received an overabundance of phone calls and text messages from friends all over the country, wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving. These are the people who will always be a part of my life. No matter where I go or what I am doing, they take the time to think of me, and the love they share is more than I could have ever wished for. No amount of money could ever buy such a gorgeous scrapbook of memories and friends.

As for my family, I have always been blessed in that area. But this year, there is something more. I am thankful for my grandmother's good health and her new found light. It was such a scary time for us all, but God strengthened and healed her, and in the process, brought our family closer than ever before. I was blessed with the love of so many family members I had not seen in a very long time. Now, we have the strongest of bonds and keep in touch. My cousins come stay here and I am thankful for getting to REALLY know them. As an added bonus, it has made my grandmother a very happy lady to see all of her grandchildren and great grandchildren in such love and harmony.

But as the years pass, I realize that I have more than just one family. I have my blood family and I have all of the many families that have been established throughout the years. The people who not only have golden hearts, but have achieved great success. The people who have been the stars in my sky for many years. The ones I can hang my wishes upon with the confidence that those wishes will always come true. The ones who bring a smile to my face daily. These are true friends...family.

I am thankful for peace. Especially inner peace. There was once a time I walked on eggshells and nails. Now I am finding that my wings grow with each passing day. I have faith in the present and the future. I live a drama free existence and can find very little to complain about. I suppose perspective has been gained and my priorities have been altered dramatically. Either way, I can always count on something beautiful awaiting just around the corner.

This could go on forever, so I am going to just make a list. Elaborating is overrated when the very things one elaborates on, are very obvious.

God, My home, my car, my friends overseas, music, laughter, dancing, coffee, words, books, opportunities, apps, pancakes, the lake, traveling, love, good food, honesty, integrity, honor, memories (both remembering and making them), Jekyll Island, New York, Wilmington, emails, smiles, sunshine...I truly could go on forever.

I can safely say that I spent Thanksgiving with one of the most amazing, generous, and gifted families, I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I am thankful for this and look forward to spending Christmas there, as well.

Now the time has come...for Christmas shopping dates! Another thing I am thankful for. Spending time with friends and family in crowds of grumpy people who are always in some sudden hurry for the pure and simple fact that Christmas is approaching. Oh America...you are so beautiful! I am thankful for you, as well.

..::Christmas In Oregon::..

The night was coming to a close, the same as any other night does. While turning off the lights, she heard her phone cry out, beholding a new text message.

It was him. She hadn't seen this young man in quite sometime. He generally checked in each month to see how she was doing and always kept in touch during the holidays. Besides that, everyday life simply never allowed for a reunion to transpire. She read and reread this message, in shock. He told her of a dream he had. "We were in Oregon for Christmas, assembling a bicycle for our child." The reality of the dream carried him for some days. He held onto it and lived it, as much as possible.

She too, began to imagine this. Began wondering why, and even how, she could revisit the dreams of an individual who she had not seen in quite some time.
As the conversation came to a close, he said "what now"? The question lingered heavily over them both for a long moment until she responded.

"We continue being us." She could not think of any other solution to this tightly woven and inter tangled conundrum.

"And go on just living in each other's dreams?"

She thought about this for a moment before responding. What would be so horribly tragic about living in the dreams of another? When looking at it in the right light, it is a harmless, fool proof, painless gift. They could never let one another down or push the wrong buttons when reality was a bit too much.They could experience adventures and forever remain unsinkable. It was seemingly the perfect arrangement for this particular scenario.

"What do you suggest?" she quarried. "Detailed emails, photographs, smoke signals, Morse Code? Or perhaps we meet at the airport once a year to live out those dreams in Europe, only to feel the pain of yet another goodbye? That would turn us into nothing more than characters in a Shakespearean play. You know how the Classics are about 'timing' and 'tragedy'..."

"Touche' -"

2011's October

It is a chilly October night, and I find myself placed comfortably on, what has officially been deemed as, “the big poofy sofa”. The lighting is dim and the atmosphere is full of anticipation. The weather will soon be requiring us to wear wool overcoats and scarves. The holidays are almost upon us, despite the fact that, it seems like I was just in DC opening my Christmas gifts, drinking hot cocoa, and going snow sledding.

I never realized how quickly one year can soar by until 2011.

With this thought in mind, I quickly thought of my “bucket list”. My wish-list of things to do, accomplish, and experience. Somehow, I have managed to check many of these “wishes” off the list in a very short amount of time.

Life has taken me on one adventure to the next, and continues to do so with each passing day. At times, it seems as though things simply fall into my lap and lead me down new and uncharted territories, with ease. I use these adventures as wisely as possible, and collect the almost surreal memories made along the way.

As the brisk night air tickles my toes, I smile with anticipation, once more. There are so many things I still wish to experience.

As a rule, I try make it a point to write down 10 things I am blessed with, each morning. So why not write down 10 things I wish to accomplish?

Or maybe I will just skip that whole "list" thing. Only time will tell, and tell it, she will.

I will keep you posted. ;-)

TO BE CONTINUED.

They Called Her Sunshine

Preface: This entry has been drawn from my own personal experiences, conclusions, and past.

Today, I was thinking back. I have no idea what has propelled me into these memories so quickly, but alas, here I am., back in time, searching myself over.

No doubt, the “grunge era” as we so frequently called it, was the best time to be a teenager. We braided our hair, stayed out all night, strummed our guitars, and felt the freedom of new voices. Voices that reached out to us over airwaves and backdoors. Through music and conversation. Through books and new ideas about the future.

We burst forth into a lifestyle that seemed fool proof, and embraced it. Each day was a new kind of adventure, filled with magic, laughter, and the great wide open. The unknown. Rolling with each moment, seeking out new ways to kill the boredom of small town living.

And kill it, we did.

Piercings and Green hair (Hello Michael!!!), shooting pool and “loitering”. Braiding the guys hair until my fingers felt as though they were going to fall off any second. Deep discussions regarding purity versus one night stands, religion, and of course, love.

There was loss, but we learned and gained.

There was strife, but we hugged and loved, in the end.

I think that, in many ways, we were a whole lot wiser than we ever gave ourselves credit for. Especially to be so young.

Back then, we were urged to think and search. Conclude for ourselves. Obsessed with lyrics, as I have always been, I think back to the music that dripped around our lives, back then.

“love and hate get it wrong
she cut me right back down to size
sleep the day let it fade
who was there to take your place
no one knows never will
mostly me but mostly you
what do you say do you do when it all comes down”

And somehow, we understood this? Well, yes. That was part of life, back then. Deciphering the meaning from the meaningless. Then making meaning out of just about anything we could wrap our minds around.

Propelling an entire generation into what is now, the 30-somethings. A new breed of lovers, dreamers, free spirits, nomads, and open minds.

Sometimes, we have difficulty finding an exact niche. The younger individuals who never experienced this type of camaraderie seem to expect so much more than we ever did…despite the fact that yes, some of the members of the “grunge era” bought their flannel at Abercrombie And Fitch. That never mattered…not then.

We just WERE who we WERE.

And gladly, still ARE.

“Must be your skin
I'm sinking in
must be for real
cuz now I can feel
and I didn't mind
it's not my kind not my time
to wonder why everything's gone white
and everything's gray
now you're here now you're away
I don't want this
remember that
I'll never forget where you're at
don't let the days go by…”

In loving memory of Jonathan Alan Jackson.
February 6, 1978 - July 5, 2000
(Not a day goes by that you don’t make me smile.)

Don't Take One Single Step For Granted.

The weather was quite brisk for a North Carolina July day. This quickly catapulted her into a quick realization. Time goes by so quickly, bringing the details along for the ride.
But the details? They are either the things most easily recalled and remembered or the things most easily forgotten. It all depends upon how one looks at life. Do you see it as a puzzle or as one giant photograph?

Since she was a child, she had kept a journal. Details and stories of what was, what could be, and the prayers she prayed with such sincerity. The day held little to be desired outside of her home. The chill in the air combined with the clouds made for a perfect excuse to read over these little slices of the past. Snippets of life caught and documented on paper.

And there is where the details were discovered.
Saint Petersburg in the dead of summer, watching fireworks from atop the Bank Of America Building.
Breakfast at the Jekyll Island Club Hotel.
Trips to Richmond and DC.
New York City.
Recording Studios.
Jet ski’s and boats. The wind so overwhelmingly breathtaking as she spent days on the lake.
The scent of airports, as she pulled her luggage to the curb to wait for her car.
3...2...1 and ACTION! “CLICK!”
The sound of the camera shutters as photographers directed her to position this way and that, while pretending to enjoy the way the sand felt as it made it’s way into her bikini…
Writing at Kapps Mill, sitting on Jonathan’s front porch and strumming guitars until conversations eventually took over.
Camping at the New River with the gang, water fights, canoes, tubing…
Listening to the startling boom of artillery at Fort Bragg at all hours of the day and night.
The excitement of new college semesters.
Even the smallest things like the scent of a fresh new book.

There is not one individual who can go through this life and NOT have their own list of details. A collection of memories that ultimately make us who we are. Guide our perceptions and write our chapters.

Unfortunately, it is easy to go through this life and become distracted from these details. The very things that make life worth it all. These little gifts that remind us of just how fortunate, blessed, and happy we are.

As Bush sang it back when she was running around with a pierced belly button and two tiny braids at the front of her hair, bleaching the sky every night, and spinning around two howling moons… “It’s the little things that kill…”

Well, I disagree with that particular statement.

It’s the little things that revive.
That create beauty.
That give us reasons to be grateful.

To know that life is, and always will be, beautiful.

Hang onto the details. In the end, they're what matter the most.

Face To Face.

I awakened this morning with a mind full of words. Memories, Ideas, thoughts, questions, answers…you name it and it was circulating through the abyss, better known as, the mind of a writer.

I have begun to immerse myself into writing a series of short stories. Most of them, drawn from my own personal past experiences. This notion was brought upon me at Thanksgiving while at Joshua’s family dinner. His grandfather, a man who has probably seen and lived through more than I ever have (or possibly will), asked me why I wasn’t writing more about my life. The thought took me aback quite thoroughly, until the idea began to make itself more comfortable in the realm of possible future endeavors. Tantalizingly so.

When living a life, the events that have separated a particular individual from the norm of society, generally seem normal to the person experiencing said events. It has taken many years, countless professors, editors, fellow writers, friends and even family, to convince me that my life was far more intriguing than fiction.

After an atrocious and premature first marriage, I began rebuilding my life from the ground up. After leaving all I had worked so hard to build, I found myself more capable of rebuilding.

I quickly learned, in the most palpable of ways, that if you want to be successful, it truly does all boil down to “who you know”. After establishing myself in a new and undisclosed residence, I began working on the set of a film as a makeup artist.


The energetic, fast paced, brutally exciting air, was something I had never truly experienced to this magnitude. It was exactly what was needed to catapult me from my history into my destiny. 14 hour days on set followed by running lines, wrap parties, trailer viewings, promotional activities…

Then somehow, I landed in New York.

Indeed, I am fully aware of how ridiculous the previous sentence sounds. “Somehow”? Looking back, all I know is that New York City was a place that was meant for me to experience. The idea of staying in my current abode quickly flew out the window when, as Nick says, I was “bitten by the bug”. Less than two months following my initial visit, I found myself living life as a New Yorker.


I worked with bands, Videographers, DJ’s, wrote songs, looked for apartments, shopped, drank gallons of Coffee in back street recording studios, sang my heart out to live audiences, met some great people, landed countless jobs, and ultimately found myself, somewhere between Fifth and Broadway.

That is when I made my next move. I turned away from New York and caught a flight back home.

I had missed my friends.

The calm of the “slow life” as New Yorker’s call it.

I will forever treasure the memories made there and will definitely go back in the future to make new ones, but it was time to begin a new chapter in the book of this life.

After my somewhat shocking return “home”, life became a mixture of hanging out at the lake, cooking out by the river, and experiencing the nightlife with my amazingly talented musician friends.

Life was exciting and making a great deal of sense.

Out of this beauty, I have learned that time is the very thing that determines our fate. Moreover, God is the very one who holds that perfect timing in his grasp. So with a wink and a nod, I smiled at this private joke that was once the “unknown” and am now living an entire new novel of adventure, love, life, experiences, and memories.

I awakened this morning with a mind full of words. Memories, Ideas, thoughts, questions, answers…you name it and it was circulating through the abyss better known as, the mind of a writer.

Turn the page. It gets better. =)