teeny tiny small joyful things.

so i know i haven't updated in ages and i ... maybe owe an explination? not? i dunno. i used to use this blog as an outlet while stuck at a job that i absolutely loathed.... and now, after quitting, and after spending three months wandering around my condo wondering where i was going and what i was doing... i guess i sort of didn't see the 'need' to write anymore. i don't know if i still do. no pictures for now, i've misplaced my cord for my camera yet again (surprise, surprise) but , i don't know, i just kinda sorta somewhat felt like updating and felt curious if anyone even wandered (wondered?) over this blog anymore.

the one thing that crossed my mind just now as i was reading (everyone should check out Jude Deveraux, she's 'classic chic lit' i suppose and her books live in the romance section but really, it's not harlequin and she really has a wonderful writing style. check her out.) this memory i have of being about twelve years old riding shotgun with my mom in our little ford (teal, classic 90's) station wagon. do they even make station wagons anymore? anyway, we were driving toward Temecula from where we lived in california and right before the border check (yeah, they had border checks..... any trunk that hung low, expect to be pulled over and gawked at as they checked you over for smuggling illegal people) and i was sitting all morose and staring out the car window- a habit that i picked up early-on in life from traveling cross-country (thanks military) so often.... trust me, three day car rides get verrrrry boring and trying on a five year old.

anyway.

so we were driving along, i was lost in my own world and just staring out.. .watching cars, people, the endless mountains that never ever looked green (maybe they were hills? granite? i dunno.) and this little car passes us, and this man, probably... i mean, to me, at twelve, he seemed 'OLD', but was probably early thirties TOPS and he looked at me and kept driving...

and then two minutes later, he's right next to us on the right, and we make eye contact and he gives me a little half-smile and points to the edge of his lopsided offering and pokes at the corner of his mouth, as if to say, 'hey, girl. smile.'

for some reason this memory pops up from time to time, and i always wonder if he remembers as much or as often as i do. isn't it crazy how one little afterthought, one little poke at your face could ruminate and settle deep inside a person for the rest of their life? that one little gesture reminds me, all the time, that it takes no effort at all to smile even when it feels like your entire house is perched on your upper lip.

i don't know why i'm thinking of that, or why i thought to share, but it just reminds me that the smallest, tiniest, teeniest bit of kindness or- afterthought- could change someones disposition every year or so. he changes mine every time i remember that.

i never told anyone about that, almost like i kept it close to my heart like a little secret, but it was such a sweet, small thing. i guess i feel like sweet, small things are few and far between lately, and i want to make some morose, self-absorbed, whiny twelve year old sit up rod-straight in shock one day while driving down the highway in 100 degree heat and go,

whoa, did someone just see me? wow. and to think, i thought i was gliding along all by myself for all these years.

where am i going with this??

hi, everyone. i'm alive, well, happy, and moving into a more joyous and appreciative section of my still-evolving life. i still lurk and read and poke at all of your writings and i've missed talking to you all. i just needed some time.

make some random kid smile next time you're stuck in traffic. trust me, it's a rush.