Put some glue on that...

Ya know, when you can't just go and have a giant greasy Cheeseburger, smothered with Pepper Jack cheese and bacon, a Boca burger is a nice substitute. That, or I am just desperate. :P

Dinner was late tonight. Rachel has been gone camping (I miss my baby and am sometimes at a loss when I don't have her needs to consider first) and I have been just fending for myself. I came home from work tonight, and instead of going and working an extra night on the extra job, I fell asleep. For about 2 hours. Luckily, my sister gave a call to go on our nightly walk. It was good (thank you Sarah!) and got my blood going. I then spent the next 2 and half hours on the phone. Each time I talk with this guy, we tack another several minutes onto our conversations. We were well on our way to 3 hours, when we thought we should get some sleep. But I was hungry...

It's funny how certain things trigger our memories. I remember reading on Trixie's site about triggers. And I thought I would like to do that, the writing exercise, but couldn't really think of anything at the time. It made me think that I was sliding back and losing touch with "myself". (which was hard to get back after a long time of conforming married to my daughters father) I get so caught up in work and home responsibilities, I forget myself sometimes. Such is one of the reasons for having a journal. Anyway, In talking with this "guy" (I really need to think of a name for this one) I have been having all sorts of triggers. He grew up in the same town as me in California. He visited all the same places, cruised the same streets, went to the same clubs and grew up doing the same types of things. Our likes are similar, cravings, the stuff we actually miss about California in general and the stuff we absolutely don't. We talk about how we love it here in Oregon, all the beautiful and glorious reasons to stay here and how so many people, not all, (down there) lack the ability to just...notice. I explained my reason for feeling connected when I take pictures. Why photography is fulfilling to me. You have to stop, focus and listen. You listen with your eyes, your heart and your mind. It forces you to step away from your own concerns and hurry, to see something and hopefully capture it, instead of just walking past.

They've been some interesting conversations. Where you lose the sense of time in the present. And while he agreed that the past doesn't define who you are now, they certainly are a piece of the puzzle that make up who you are becoming. And it's ever changing and growing.

I just know that when it comes the time for me to put that last piece in place, I hope I leave a pleasing picture.