.: The Girl :.
Name:Jessie
From::Los Angeles, California
I'm a twenty-something California native; a wanderer but not without direction.
Learn a little more about me
.: Recent Posts :.
They're Going HUMP Crazy!
The Second Good-Bye
Echo Echo Echo
Birthday Song
My birthday buddy, Denise, and me in my bling bling.
Birthday table
This was my birthday cake. My "birthday buddy" at ...
My 27th Trip Around The Sun
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.: Disclaimer :.
By visiting this site, you read at your own risk. I am known for errors in grammar and spelling. If you become less intelligent by reading this site, become incredibly bored, or are disgusted by what you read - you were warned. Furthermore, I will not be held responsible for ANY mental, emotional, physical, financial, or spiritual damage to you, your friends, your family or strangers. I apologize to my friends and family if I embarrass you. I reserve the right to edit any and all comments on this blog. I also reserve the right to humiliate you if you dare say anything negative about me, my friends, my family, or strangers who I like.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Happy Birthday Mom
My mom has always been good at making me cry. No, no, not the kind of cry because I was in trouble and deserved to have that spanking, leave the table with no dinner, and be banished to my room for six months. No, no. The kind of cry that only a mom can do when she looks at you with all the love in the world and you know that she would lay down her life for yours in a heartbeat.
I'm crying already.
My mom is one of "those" moms. She was always good at embarrassing me and my brother in those MOST inappropriate of moments - but always tried to be cool in front of our friends. She could always be relied on for packing extra bottles of water or bringing snacks to the movies. She laughs at my dad - which isn't hard to do - and then looks over at you and rolls her eyes (I love that). She dances silly but has the grace of an angel. She can work her way around the stock market better than anyone else in our family. She used to write notes on the napkins of packed lunches. Her hugs make the day a little brighter. She makes everything feel better just by the magic of her touch. She has watched me grow and mature from the time I was in her tummy (when I turned to say "HI" on the ultrasound screen) to the woman I've become today (with bumps and bruises along the way, but no less of the perfect daughter I always was). In my mom's eyes, I can see the woman I am - where I came from and where I am going.
I texted her a phone message this morning to wish her a Happy Birthday (you're nuts if you think I dare unleash the wrath of mom by saying HOW OLD she is today) and she promptly wrote back that she is happy to be here to enjoy it. Yeah, me too. I'm sooo glad you haven't died yet, mom, because there are plenty of more years that my brother and I would like to drive you crazy with. Sorry if that sounds insensitive. I hope you read the meaning behind it - I'm glad you're here, too. And if I don't say it enough, THANK YOU for being all that you are.
I love you, mom.