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God is good.
ok...wait, wait.
God is abundantly good.
as i walked up the puig this morning, i was praying, hands out desperate for the rain of love, like a dry and parched land (ps. 143).
i felt much better after my walk, as i came down the hill singing worship songs to myself and the goats, and above.
i was desperate for something, a sign, and notion of home that would keep me driven and joyful.
i got it, in the form of a simple email.
when i left the press telegram, my future unknown, i hoped that if i returned i would be able to get some job back, particularly maybe one slightly higher than that which i held...in fact, i had one specific job i wanted, but knew would be more of a stretch seeing as i have had minimal experience in it.
this position which i was hoping for, will be open in a couple weeks.
sweet 'ol grandpa max always told me to network.
my parents always raised me to be responsible and well-mannered (most of the time).
and for whatever strange reason, i became an adult with a strong work ethic and overachiever mentality.
thank God for them all.
i think it´s all gotten me somewhere, even if it´s just a simple job...
it´s brought a tinge of that kelly-joy back.
another freakin' fan for my feet would make me jump with joy right now, though!
simple things please me.
i thought bjork was the dancer in the dark, but last night i proved that icelandic queen DEAD WRONG.
dead, i tell you.
feeling a bit guilty after my pint of the 'ol cream, i lay down with otis redding in my ears.
but something happened when ´love man´came on... i was simply laying there feeling sorry when my feet got the urge to move.
before i knew it i thought, "screw this...i´m dancing, right here on this pergo floor, in the pitch black, with that damn fan on high, pointed right at me."
so, i did...
for many songs...in fact, probably a half hour´s worth of songs...
i was home, for that time.
i saw gino, and nat, and jackie, and dirte, and keith, and mikey...and me, cuttin´the rug, or the pergo.
naturally, seeing as it is like 8 bajillion degrees at 11pm, i was desperately sweating when i finished...i was kinda sad when i finished.
thank God no one was home as i walked out of my room and stepped in the bathroom to catch a glance at what a mess i must have looked...
my hair was glued to my face from the faucet amounts of sweat that i was exuding, no makeup, just all out there.
and i stared for a minute at my face, still panting from my ditty around the pergo, and for one of the first times, i saw just beauty.
i don´t mean that in the 'oh, i look like kathy ireland in a wet bathing suit in bora bora' beauty...oh no. that one will never happen.
but just the simple shape of my face, my eyebrows, the fresh freckles obtained from a day in the sun, even the beads of sweat accenting my jaw line as they dripped off onto the counter.
i smiled for a minute and thought of how i must look when i go out every weekend...i don´t know if that´s good or bad.
it was a great moment.
and i went to sleep listening to otis redding and dreaming of singing for people one day.
hey, i've already proven one dream can come true today, so why not another.
ciao.
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