Dankbar? Ja!

Ich danke Gott und dem Herrn für die verschiedene Segnungen die sie auf mich aufgeschüttelt haben.  Obwohl ich meine Mutti sehr vermisse, ich weiss daß sie mir noch nah ist. Der Welt Meinung nach sei sie gestorben.  Stimmt aber nicht.  Sie lebt.  Jenseits ist nicht so weit.  Ich spüre ihr Beisein.  Ich errinere mich ganz genau.  Diesen Sommer bin ich einen langen Gang in Primary Children´s gelaufen.  Es war abends, ungefähr 17:00 uhr. Als ich dem Gang entlang gelaufen bin, wusste ich daß sie bei mir war.  Was für ein besonderes Erlebnis.  Die Stille im Gang herrschte.  Noch keine war im Gang in dem Moment.  Nur ich, die Stille, und Karen.  Ruhe ist mir herübergekommen und was normalerweise dreißig Sekunden dauert den ganzen Gang zu laufen fühlte es sich wie die schönste Minute ohne Sorgen und Kummer.  Ich war warm.  Sie ermutigte mich durch ihr Wesen und besondere Gefühle.  Gefühle, die Mut, Zuversicht, und Liebe entsprach.  Das Erlebnis koste ich aus. Ich errinere wie hervorragend eine Mutter sie war.  Sie machte so viel Spaß.  Kaum gab es einen ausdrucklosen Moment mit ihr.  Ich danke dem Herrn für die 21 Jahre worin ich sie kennen dürfte.  Ich bin auch für meinen Vater dankbar; der mir ein guter Freund ist. Mein Leben ist wirklich spitze! 

Let's just deflate expectations right from the get-go. Great!

This would be my first post on my very first blog ever in this life, I think.

To be concise: I knew a man, once. He told me a wise tale of a younger boy, who had destroyed his life multiplying words and using the swift inertia of his charm to sway the lady folk and exploit other economical avenues.  The problem lie not with meaning well with the ladies and making profitable business, but rather the disingenuous approach.  He threw light on the fact that in and of itself, a Casanova, is nothing inherently verpoent (as my yiddish German friends would use) about a Casanova, that is, looked down upon.  Yet, there lies a forceful tide in succumbing to the frailties of what a Casanova is often perceived to be; a schmooser seeking his spoil. He continued to enlighten me.  He told me that despite a Casanova's ostensible nature to lack sure footing (allegedly manifest by his ineptness at life navigation; what he wants, is, sees, and feels), it is a Casanova's charge to be noble and upright; a constant to a changing society.  "So let the spoils come!," I cried as I quickly rocketed to my feet with arm, hand, and finger outstretched and pointed to the sky to discover the old the man's (don't forget, who knew a boy) disdain.  He harshly rebuked me for my sudden and brisk faltering.  I apparently didn't catch the connection in him telling me this is not what a Casanova is...... the Aston Martin will have to wait. This man, who knew a boy, who shared this invaluable pure morsel of truth with me, motivated me to keep chalk on my heels and keenly observe from a distance and become almost forgotten to then rush in, still maintaining class and respect, at the opportune moment for the attack and victory. Sieg!  He blacked out from drunkenness before he could tell me much more. Those two minutes outside the pizzeria, however, set me on a new course.  I've always waited for one of those, "This moment changed my life" experiences. You know, the kind you hear all the time about a soldier being in the trenches and his desperate prayers, or a single mother struggling to pay the rent.  Well, I just got mine, and I'm totally taking this one to the bank!  So again, to be concise: This ongoing tally of deliberations, thoughts, experiences, lady troubles, and airing of dirty laundry (a blog) will attempt to quash such ridiculous telltale connotations of a Casanova and his temptations to multiply words and manipulate. For they simply do not characterize a true Casanova.  I really am taking this one to the bank.  You better believe it.  I almost forgot to mention that it will  surely fail, undoubtedly. So, cheers!

(52 minutes to compose, 43 minutes wasted, and 36 of which I will never get back, really)

Stay classy internet.

Okay, so I bloody thought Facebook was time consuming!  Goodness, after a Facebook splurge, I have at least broadened my social scope to explore the happenings of much cooler people.  Blogging has only just helped me zero in on the witlessness and dopiness of my bland life.  Too deep, I will post in a month and good night.

(8 additional minutes to compose, 8 minutes wasted, and 9 of which I will never get back - click