Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure
A year in the life?
Seasons of love.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes!
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Journeys to plan.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Six hundred minutes
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man?
In truths that she learned,
Or in times that he cried.
In bridges he burned,
Or the way that she died.
It's time now to sing out,
Tho' the story never ends
Let's celebrate
Remember a year in the life of a friend.
It's that time of year again to think about the year gone by and to report on the adventures takes and experiences had.
This year there was much less anxiety about getting older-although the anxiety is ever present in one form or another-mostly because this year felt like an eternity. So much has happened in the last 365 days that it felt time to move on to bigger and better 21 things. This whole month it has very much been a Lion King "it's time" atmosphere. Life is always about moving on. There is a beautiful song called Move On written by Stephen Sondhiem for Sunday in the Park with George which expresses this sentiment in exactness. If you don't move on, what do you have? Life is empty without growth and development.
I feel like I've learned a lot this year about life-about me. Life isn't always a walk in the park. Sometimes it's hard and there are many times you feel like giving up and throwing in the towel. But then where would you be? It's the hard times that make the easy times easy. If it was all cake there would be no one to eat the brownies or the ice cream? We need a well-balanced diet of chaos and peace-of happiness and sorrow.
Enough chatter, here's what you all came for.... the crazies...
21 before 21
1. Snuck cake into the theater and frosted it during the previews
2. Visited Starbucks headquarters
3. Climbed the bluff by the Larsen residence
4. Went shopping at Pike Place Market
5. Bleached my hair
6. Had my "energy" (palm) read
7. Shattered my rear view mirror on Mexico's garbage can
8. French prayers
9. Owed the IRS
10. Took Latin
11. Climbed Dixie Rock and ripped my pants
12. Read a trashy dollar store novel - Lust's Betrayal
13. Had my car booted twice in one week
14. Obtained red Wrap-around Toms boots
15. Bought a fun flask
16. Went skeet shooting
17. Beat Angry Birds
18. Built a snowman in St. George
19. Ate kiwi with the skin on
20. Dyed my hair "black"
21. Ate pizza with M&Ms (sick)
Along with so many more fun and exciting things accomplished and shared this past year.
I did a bang up job being 20 and feel fully ready to tackle being 21.
Words of new found wisdom:
Life is short.
Make each day worthwhile in whatever way possible.
Have fun now.
Laugh while you work.
Love with all your heart.
Tell people what they mean to you.
Make family a priority.
Goodnight, dear void.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
A Jitterstory
Once upon a time, a long time ago, in a place called Jitterland, there journeyed a young girl with changing hair and sparkling blue eyes. She discovered the Jitterways and learned the Jitterwalk and the Jittertalk. She loved Jitterland. As with any land there were times of peace and times of... not so much peace.
But more than the Jitterwalk and talk were the Jitterbuggers. They represented all that was good in Jitterland and made the girl feel welcome and safe. The girl spent many days with them laughing, swapping Jitterstories and communicating telepathically with the Jitterelders who called frequently to check up on the Jitterbuggers to acertain their Jitterworthiness. Without Jitterworthiness, a Jitterbugger could not pass from existence into the cubiclevoid where the Jitterelders dwell which was the ultimate form of life; it was a place every Jitterbugger wished to arrive one day. At times there were harsh words spoken from the Jitterelders but all in the name of Jitterbetterment, to be sure.
This telepathic communication tested the Jitterbuggers and placed them through simulations to weed out the weak from the strong. There were numerical tests, comprehension tests, navigation tests, and most difficult of all - Jitterlanguage tests. The Jitterlanguage twisted and turned and at times tested the Jitterbuggers to the edge of their mental copacity. Certian dialects slurred words together making them near impossible to differenciate. It was quite the undertaking for the girl when she began her lessons. She thought she would never be able to understand some of the Jitterelders. As she struggled and practiced and tuned her ears in, she found that she understood more and more each day. Soon she even began to speak the very basic forms of Jitterlanguage.
The more she understood the more she wanted to understand and yet something just didn't seem right. She kept up with her lessons and tried not to think about the feeling in her gut that something was about to change. She walked around Jitterland running into all the Jitterbuggers she'd grown to love during her time in Jitterland but something just didn't fit. She was happy wasn't she? Then why did she still have that feeling in her gut.
One day the Jitterbuggers surprised the girl by putting her photograph up in town square and giving her a balloon car to drive. She was so happy she had stumbled into this land and for all that she had learned and seen there.
One morning the girl woke up and saw in her mind's eye that she was standing at a crossroads. The choice was hers: she could keep on her current course - remaining in Jitterland - or to take road to the left - a road that led away from Jitterland into a distance unforseen future.
She knew what she must do.
Leave Jitterland? But why? For what? What was there out there in the great Beyond? Would there be something better than Jitterland? Her photograph was in town square, she had just started mastering Jitterlanguage... and yet... she knew. There was something more out there for her. Jitterland had given her many wonderful things she could use to ward off the faces of evil while she was away. And the Jitterbuggers...they would be alright. Even as the girl was making preparations for her departure there was talk of change. Maybe they would even change the name of their land - CallGreatLand was creeping in more and more.
The girl wondered if she should tell anyone of her departure. There were many Jitterbuggers she had not seen for many phases of the moon and even more she had only known for a few days; she wondered if they would want to know of her quest.
A Jitterblurb she decided to leave. Those who wished to read it could and those who wished she'd have left sooner were free to rejoice. It is recorded here for any to read who may desire to do so:
A Jitterblurb
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Just because I'm leaving
Doesn't mean I don't love you.
One Art
Elizabeth Bishop
The are of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of loosing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next to last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
The girl wrote her blurb and left it on the table near town square the night before her expected migration. She crossed her fingers as she drifted off to sleep. She hoped the best for her friends, the Jitterbuggers, and couldn't help but hope the best for the left-bound road ahead.
But more than the Jitterwalk and talk were the Jitterbuggers. They represented all that was good in Jitterland and made the girl feel welcome and safe. The girl spent many days with them laughing, swapping Jitterstories and communicating telepathically with the Jitterelders who called frequently to check up on the Jitterbuggers to acertain their Jitterworthiness. Without Jitterworthiness, a Jitterbugger could not pass from existence into the cubiclevoid where the Jitterelders dwell which was the ultimate form of life; it was a place every Jitterbugger wished to arrive one day. At times there were harsh words spoken from the Jitterelders but all in the name of Jitterbetterment, to be sure.
This telepathic communication tested the Jitterbuggers and placed them through simulations to weed out the weak from the strong. There were numerical tests, comprehension tests, navigation tests, and most difficult of all - Jitterlanguage tests. The Jitterlanguage twisted and turned and at times tested the Jitterbuggers to the edge of their mental copacity. Certian dialects slurred words together making them near impossible to differenciate. It was quite the undertaking for the girl when she began her lessons. She thought she would never be able to understand some of the Jitterelders. As she struggled and practiced and tuned her ears in, she found that she understood more and more each day. Soon she even began to speak the very basic forms of Jitterlanguage.
The more she understood the more she wanted to understand and yet something just didn't seem right. She kept up with her lessons and tried not to think about the feeling in her gut that something was about to change. She walked around Jitterland running into all the Jitterbuggers she'd grown to love during her time in Jitterland but something just didn't fit. She was happy wasn't she? Then why did she still have that feeling in her gut.
One day the Jitterbuggers surprised the girl by putting her photograph up in town square and giving her a balloon car to drive. She was so happy she had stumbled into this land and for all that she had learned and seen there.
One morning the girl woke up and saw in her mind's eye that she was standing at a crossroads. The choice was hers: she could keep on her current course - remaining in Jitterland - or to take road to the left - a road that led away from Jitterland into a distance unforseen future.
She knew what she must do.
Leave Jitterland? But why? For what? What was there out there in the great Beyond? Would there be something better than Jitterland? Her photograph was in town square, she had just started mastering Jitterlanguage... and yet... she knew. There was something more out there for her. Jitterland had given her many wonderful things she could use to ward off the faces of evil while she was away. And the Jitterbuggers...they would be alright. Even as the girl was making preparations for her departure there was talk of change. Maybe they would even change the name of their land - CallGreatLand was creeping in more and more.
The girl wondered if she should tell anyone of her departure. There were many Jitterbuggers she had not seen for many phases of the moon and even more she had only known for a few days; she wondered if they would want to know of her quest.
A Jitterblurb she decided to leave. Those who wished to read it could and those who wished she'd have left sooner were free to rejoice. It is recorded here for any to read who may desire to do so:
A Jitterblurb
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Just because I'm leaving
Doesn't mean I don't love you.
One Art
Elizabeth Bishop
The are of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of loosing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next to last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
The girl wrote her blurb and left it on the table near town square the night before her expected migration. She crossed her fingers as she drifted off to sleep. She hoped the best for her friends, the Jitterbuggers, and couldn't help but hope the best for the left-bound road ahead.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
A Break in the Equilibrium
I finally feel like things are getting back to normal. What a relief. After the accident – some people refer to it as an accident, some as an incident... I prefer not to refer to it as anything at all – it felt like things would never settle down and that I was doomed to walking on egg shells for the rest of my existence. Thankfully though it's settling and hopeful one day it really will be nothing.
All this time walking on egg shells had made me think though. What does it mean for life to “get back to normal”? And is that really what I mean that I want? In your life should you ever want for things to be “normal”... what ever normal is...?
Do you ever wonder if you're becoming complacent in your life? Why do we always want things to be comfortable and easy... normal? Would it not be better to be a little uncomfortable at times to promote growth and development. Is it wrong to not search for an equilibrium in life but rather to search for the next break in the equilibrium?
_____________________________________________________________________________________
What do you say to people when they prefer not to be talked to. When all you want is to be in their life, yet them seem not to care if you're there or not. What do you say? It would be nice to believe that in their silence they really do want you to talk to them but what if they don't. What if you want so badly to be in someone's life but they truly don't want you there? You just give up and walk away? But why wouldn't they want you there?
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Just to say hey.
You're not there.
You say nothing to me.
So I thought I would write
Just to say hey.
You may respond
You may not.
But at least I know
I did my part.
Dial tone
Ring ring
Ring ring
Ring ring
Ring ring
Beeeeeep
Voice mail
Recording
Click
Shut
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Goodnight, dear void.
All this time walking on egg shells had made me think though. What does it mean for life to “get back to normal”? And is that really what I mean that I want? In your life should you ever want for things to be “normal”... what ever normal is...?
Do you ever wonder if you're becoming complacent in your life? Why do we always want things to be comfortable and easy... normal? Would it not be better to be a little uncomfortable at times to promote growth and development. Is it wrong to not search for an equilibrium in life but rather to search for the next break in the equilibrium?
_____________________________________________________________________________________
What do you say to people when they prefer not to be talked to. When all you want is to be in their life, yet them seem not to care if you're there or not. What do you say? It would be nice to believe that in their silence they really do want you to talk to them but what if they don't. What if you want so badly to be in someone's life but they truly don't want you there? You just give up and walk away? But why wouldn't they want you there?
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Just to say hey.
You're not there.
You say nothing to me.
So I thought I would write
Just to say hey.
You may respond
You may not.
But at least I know
I did my part.
Dial tone
Ring ring
Ring ring
Ring ring
Ring ring
Beeeeeep
Voice mail
Recording
Click
Shut
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Goodnight, dear void.
Pick up the Phone
Dial tone
8 0 1
8 5 1
0 1 1 3
Ring ring
Ring ring
Ring ring
Ring ring
Beeeeeep
Voice mail
Recording
Click shut
8 0 1
8 5 1
0 1 1 3
Ring ring
Ring ring
Ring ring
Ring ring
Beeeeeep
Voice mail
Recording
Click shut
Thursday, August 19, 2010
A Blog on Marriage
I just finished watching Laws of Attraction with Pierce Brosnan and Julianne Moore and I sa-wooned. The first thing I did after that last credit ran and I could pull myself up off the coach was run into the Study to get on Amazon and buy the movie. The shipping cost me more than the movie itself but it is well worth it.
That is the kind of love I want. I remember trying to explain it to a friend last summer. It's the look of love. When a man looks at a woman and you just know... whether she knows it or not... that he loves her. And when she’s not around and he gets that half smile and you know he has to be thinking about her. – The Look of Love.
I want that. When I fall in love - whenever that ends up happening - I want it to happen like that. I hope to high heaven I'm not as blind and idiotic as Julianne (bless her heart) but even if I am I want it to happen like that. I want my future someone to be attracted to me so much that everyone knows it when I walk in the room and he just can't take his eyes off of me.
It is so easy to get caught up in the drama that is dating in Provo, Utah in all it's glamour and glory. And yet love really isn't that complicated. It's all in the look. I'm sure that most people who watched this movie or who will watch it in the future found it cheesy and predictable (aka my father :) ) but I love the way he looks at her. The way he is so in love with her every action and her every word. He is intrigued by her. When he looks at her you can see in his eyes that he wants to spend every moment with her because he knows it would be better with her than without her. He wants to marry her. I want to be mysterious... predictable only to a point. Predictable enough for him to be able to know what to get me for Christmas and Birthdays and the in between present giving days (my mother taught me about those) but mysterious enough for him not to know if I'm going to ask him to hold my hand while we go skydiving or while dance out under the stars one night.
People keep telling me that I probably will marry someone quieter than I am - someone more mellow in order to balance out my personality. I used to get so upset by that because - yes, I could be happy with that but at the same time it still felt like settling. I wanted a man who could sweep me off my toes and who would keep me guessing as well. Someone outgoing and funny who would drag me out of the house at any given moment to dance in a thunder storm at the height of its raging. Maybe someone even more outgoing than I am. But maybe that's not what is most important after all. Tonight I don't care either way. As long as he has the look of love in his eyes when he looks at me. That is all that matters.
After all, it's all in the look.
On top of and even more than the look though is the meaning of those rings on your left hand after you promise to love and cherish one another from that point forward. I'm terrified of divorce. I will openly admit that. It scares me to the core. It can be devastating and heartbreaking and it makes me cry. As a result I can often become terrified of commitment and at times I have a hard time letting people in and trusting them with me on the most basic of levels. Marriage has been a scary and daunting and over talked subject for years to me. And yet after I finished watching Pierce love Julianne marriage wasn't so scary anymore. And those rings meant more than potential hurt and tears. They were the symbol of hope, of love, and of mutual commitment to a better future - a together future. They were more than just metal on a phalange – they were the beautiful outward expression of the inward unity they had with one another and the underlying commitment to one another that bound them wherever they were.
I, Abby Holyoak, do in fact someday want to get married. I want to have a man put a piece of metal on my fourth phalange on my left hand so everyone will know that I promised to love and cherish him and only him and I want to put a piece of metal on that same number phalange on his left hand so everyone knows he promised back. And when we look at each other, I want to have the look of love.
Goodnight, dear void.
That is the kind of love I want. I remember trying to explain it to a friend last summer. It's the look of love. When a man looks at a woman and you just know... whether she knows it or not... that he loves her. And when she’s not around and he gets that half smile and you know he has to be thinking about her. – The Look of Love.
I want that. When I fall in love - whenever that ends up happening - I want it to happen like that. I hope to high heaven I'm not as blind and idiotic as Julianne (bless her heart) but even if I am I want it to happen like that. I want my future someone to be attracted to me so much that everyone knows it when I walk in the room and he just can't take his eyes off of me.
It is so easy to get caught up in the drama that is dating in Provo, Utah in all it's glamour and glory. And yet love really isn't that complicated. It's all in the look. I'm sure that most people who watched this movie or who will watch it in the future found it cheesy and predictable (aka my father :) ) but I love the way he looks at her. The way he is so in love with her every action and her every word. He is intrigued by her. When he looks at her you can see in his eyes that he wants to spend every moment with her because he knows it would be better with her than without her. He wants to marry her. I want to be mysterious... predictable only to a point. Predictable enough for him to be able to know what to get me for Christmas and Birthdays and the in between present giving days (my mother taught me about those) but mysterious enough for him not to know if I'm going to ask him to hold my hand while we go skydiving or while dance out under the stars one night.
People keep telling me that I probably will marry someone quieter than I am - someone more mellow in order to balance out my personality. I used to get so upset by that because - yes, I could be happy with that but at the same time it still felt like settling. I wanted a man who could sweep me off my toes and who would keep me guessing as well. Someone outgoing and funny who would drag me out of the house at any given moment to dance in a thunder storm at the height of its raging. Maybe someone even more outgoing than I am. But maybe that's not what is most important after all. Tonight I don't care either way. As long as he has the look of love in his eyes when he looks at me. That is all that matters.
After all, it's all in the look.
On top of and even more than the look though is the meaning of those rings on your left hand after you promise to love and cherish one another from that point forward. I'm terrified of divorce. I will openly admit that. It scares me to the core. It can be devastating and heartbreaking and it makes me cry. As a result I can often become terrified of commitment and at times I have a hard time letting people in and trusting them with me on the most basic of levels. Marriage has been a scary and daunting and over talked subject for years to me. And yet after I finished watching Pierce love Julianne marriage wasn't so scary anymore. And those rings meant more than potential hurt and tears. They were the symbol of hope, of love, and of mutual commitment to a better future - a together future. They were more than just metal on a phalange – they were the beautiful outward expression of the inward unity they had with one another and the underlying commitment to one another that bound them wherever they were.
I, Abby Holyoak, do in fact someday want to get married. I want to have a man put a piece of metal on my fourth phalange on my left hand so everyone will know that I promised to love and cherish him and only him and I want to put a piece of metal on that same number phalange on his left hand so everyone knows he promised back. And when we look at each other, I want to have the look of love.
Goodnight, dear void.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
"By the way, I can preach to you... I'm a minister..."
I work at a call center with a headset. And somedays I love it and somedays I really hate it... the headset mostly not the job. There is just something totally fulfilling after getting yelled at for 15 min by Sister Farrer about how Customer Service shouldn't have to ask her so many questions when the operators don't have to and they shouldn't be so mean to people becuase they never know when their last day may be... by the way she can preach to me because she's a minister... and she just wants me to dial her voicemail to take down the number for her brother's cell phone that she refuses to put in her phone list no matter how often she calls in for him to be able to hang up an acutal hand set to say you are finally finished with The Beast. Sigh. Click.
Goodnight, dear void.
P.s. This same minister is the woman who calls in every day only to set curses upon us who are lying White Devil members of the KKK who hang up on her and are nothing but rude. I'm not white though... she refers to me as the black girl.... and then calls us racist. Hmmm.... Heaven bound for sure. Bless her heart.
Goodnight, dear void.
P.s. This same minister is the woman who calls in every day only to set curses upon us who are lying White Devil members of the KKK who hang up on her and are nothing but rude. I'm not white though... she refers to me as the black girl.... and then calls us racist. Hmmm.... Heaven bound for sure. Bless her heart.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
The Blink of An Eye
She looked around frantically scanning the crowd for his face. He said he would be there. She looked back and forth expectantly until finally... there. To the left and back four or five people. He was scanning back looking just as frantic as she felt. Their eyes met and smiles appeared on their faces simultaneously as they realized the person they'd been searching for was there in front of them searching too. He pushed through the crowd and grabbed her in a headlock and gave her head a good rubbing before letting her go and wrapping her in a giant bear hug. Two years is a long time to go without seeing your best friend. Life happpened to both of them and soon it was two years and several letters later and here they were... like nothing had changed at all and not a day had gone by. She'd dreamt of this day every day of those two years and couldn't believe it was actually there in front of her. It had seemed like an eternity and in a way it had been. Standing there in his arms she was grateful that it was in that moment with him to hold her up that she truly understood just how much she had missed him while he'd been gone. She wondered if he felt her knees give out. She sent a silent prayer heavenward that this moment would last another eternity.
His heart jumped as he met her eyes and felt her smile reach him from across all those people. How was it that she hadn't changed one bit since he'd left? Sure, her physical appearance had been altered slightly by time but looking into those eyes he knew in her soul she was the same.... better than before but familiar and old at the same time. It felt like it took an eternity to push his way through the crowd to get to her. Two years was a long time to be away from your best friend and he'd missed her every day of that two years. He had to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't another one of his dreams tricking him into believing that he got to have her in his life again. So many times varations of this scene had played out in his subconcious mind... but he'd always found himself looking up at the ceiling just before he reached her. Afraid this would meet the same end he had to smile when he felt the pain of his action reach his cerebral cortex. She was really there wanting to see him as much and he wanted to see her. He grabbed her and wrapped her in the biggest bear hug he could muster. He felt her knees buckle and sent a silent prayer heavenward that she wouldn't feel the tear drop on her shoulder. He'd missed her so much. Holding her their in his arms he hoped this moment would last a little longer than usual.
Stepping back they looked into each other's faces and saw the tears forming in each other's eyes. They chuckled at this moment they were in, grateful to again be sharing it face to face. Another hug, tear, and chuckle and they were on their way away from the crowd. As they walked they both let the cups of their lives spill into one another's sharing experiences and memories from the years apart. And it was like he'd never left. Talking about all this time apart and yet it felt like yesterday that they were shooting hoops talking about his departure. He'd been nervous and a bit apprehensive about the journey. She'd been heartbroken and lonely already. He shot and missed. She shot and scored. They blinked. And there they were playing pool and picking up right where they'd left off. Two years was a long time to miss your best friend. It had been an eternity and the blink of an eye. And now it was over. He shot and missed. She shot and scored. They blinked.
His heart jumped as he met her eyes and felt her smile reach him from across all those people. How was it that she hadn't changed one bit since he'd left? Sure, her physical appearance had been altered slightly by time but looking into those eyes he knew in her soul she was the same.... better than before but familiar and old at the same time. It felt like it took an eternity to push his way through the crowd to get to her. Two years was a long time to be away from your best friend and he'd missed her every day of that two years. He had to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't another one of his dreams tricking him into believing that he got to have her in his life again. So many times varations of this scene had played out in his subconcious mind... but he'd always found himself looking up at the ceiling just before he reached her. Afraid this would meet the same end he had to smile when he felt the pain of his action reach his cerebral cortex. She was really there wanting to see him as much and he wanted to see her. He grabbed her and wrapped her in the biggest bear hug he could muster. He felt her knees buckle and sent a silent prayer heavenward that she wouldn't feel the tear drop on her shoulder. He'd missed her so much. Holding her their in his arms he hoped this moment would last a little longer than usual.
Stepping back they looked into each other's faces and saw the tears forming in each other's eyes. They chuckled at this moment they were in, grateful to again be sharing it face to face. Another hug, tear, and chuckle and they were on their way away from the crowd. As they walked they both let the cups of their lives spill into one another's sharing experiences and memories from the years apart. And it was like he'd never left. Talking about all this time apart and yet it felt like yesterday that they were shooting hoops talking about his departure. He'd been nervous and a bit apprehensive about the journey. She'd been heartbroken and lonely already. He shot and missed. She shot and scored. They blinked. And there they were playing pool and picking up right where they'd left off. Two years was a long time to miss your best friend. It had been an eternity and the blink of an eye. And now it was over. He shot and missed. She shot and scored. They blinked.
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