All Good Things...

Dear Friends,

"Writing is an exploration, you start from nothing and learn as you go." - E. L. Doctorow

And that statement is true. I look back at some of my early writings back in October and cringe a bit. At the time I didn't know what I wanted to say. I basically wrote whatever randomly popped into my head but it didn't mean anything.

I like to mix the lighthearted and heartwarming with the mildly tragic or rage-inducing. This is how I choose to share myself with all of you.

I started this blog on September 28, 2008 and in the past four months I have met some amazing people. You were kind, you commented, you gave advice, you shared my triumphs and my heartbreaks. You became my friends and each of you is precious. And in return for me letting you into my life, you gave me snapshots of yours.

I never would have believed that I could care so much about a group of people I have never met in person. That their lives could evoke honest-to-God emotion in me. I've laughed, I've cried, I've wondered what loony bin some of you escaped from, and I've been blessed with the knowledge that such wonderful human beings exist in the world.

It is very hard to earn my respect and admiration. Congratulations on accomplishing this feat.

But it is with a rather heavy heart that I bid farewell to Blogger. This site has become like my internet home but like all ducks, I must fly south for the winter.

Now as I would like to go out with a bang, I'm asking for your help. My last post here will be an interview conducted by all of you.

Yes, you.

If there are any questions you would like to ask like (what's your most embarrassing moment or why do you put the letter 'u' in weird places?). Must say that if you want to tell me just how much I rock (I practically ooze humility, don't I?) then that's fine too. Ask your questions in a comment or email and I'll answer on Monday for my LAST BLOGGER POST! It'll be published about 10 PM EST that day so stay tuned.

Marching to the beat of my own drum one last time,

Kendall (The Odd Duck)

So Hard To Say Goodbye

What follows is a speech I wrote/ad-libbed for Mass this morning to say goodbye to Father Oaks, who passed away after fighting liver cancer for four years. Only names and locations have been changed.

"There is little more difficult than letting someone into your life, caring for them, opening up. To do so seems to go against the trend of weariness and caution so many of us develop over the course of our lifetimes. And as hard as it is, saying goodbye is that much more arduous.

I remember sitting in the office before the 7:30 service this morning, trying to figure out how to honour this man who had so very much for so many of us. What could Father Cherry have been thinking when he asked me to do this? I guess he figured I would not try and hide my emotions, something anyone will tell you isn't really a strong point of mine.

Compared to many of those gathered here this morning, I barely knew him. I first met Father Oaks in the summer of 2007 while I have spoken to some whom have known this amazing man from the time they were children back in the 70's. I can't touch on that knowledge but I can share with you all what I do know. The man who I have watched let the little ones braid his hair. Who gave his all to any who needed help. Who always had an open office policy with a ready ear and a warm smile waiting.

I have met few men more humble, more open, than Father Oaks. A true class act, it has been an honour and a privilege to know him. He did his best to prove that he was just a regular man and in doing so proved how much a treasure he truly was. He was a fellow fan of Charlie Brown and the Peanuts gang, a country music fan going back to the days of Little Jimmy Dickens, and quite possibly the biggest fishing aficionado I have ever met.

It is impossible to list all the achievements of his 63 years on this Earth. And it is just as impossible to describe that man with one story. But I have to try my best. It was back in March of this past year and I was in Father Oak's office as he was asking about how I enjoy my first Sunday school class. I don't fully remember how we got onto the subject but we ended up speaking about perseverance. He knew my past and in light of that, told me something that morning that will stay with me until the day I die. 'That faith isn't faith until it's all you're holding on to.' And coming from a man who had seen the worst of humanity as a medic in the Vietnam War, I could not really argue that.

Father Oaks was a man who stressed more than anything else a certain love for your fellow man. Who believed in giving his all in his every endeavor. But lastly, he was a man who believed that even when a situation was its darkest, all we could do was stand up, smile, and walk forward. And as I fully believe that you are home behind the pearly gates, I have a message for you.

Thank you for all you've done and we will do our best to try and fill the enormous shoes you left behind. You are loved and you will be missed. Know that you left us in good hands."

Somehow I made it through without my voice cracking. Seeing the people who I spend hours with every week, who I have gotten to know through my time in the church, hug those around them when a fresh burst of tears hit them. I watched as others stood up to share their own tales. I saw our organist playing her heart out after benediction, despite the tears running without hint of shame down her cheeks. This one man had touched us all.

That, my friends, is real power.


Photo courtesy of The Bait

The Odd Duck's Adventures in Boston Part I

As some of you know, I packed up my car, filled the tank, and hit the road for Boston Friday at like 3 in the morning. I had my mapquest directions in hand, the iPod was playing a steady stream of music, and there was barely any traffic.

Folks, anyone who tells you that driving isn't tiring is lying through their crooked teeth. It took me about 12 and a half hours to make it here and by the time I did, I was nearly exhausted.

For those of you who have been reading more than a few weeks, you know I have no problems striking up conversations with strangers. You would be surprised how some people open up when asked.

I stopped in Hartford, CT for gas yesterday afternoon and spend maybe 20 minutes speaking with two women a few years older than me about the city and they in turn grilled me about where I was from as I marked myself a Southerner the moment "y'all" slipped out my mouth. They even told me a faster way to make it back to the highway as I was a bit turned around.

I checked into a Holiday Inn here around 6 and called R to tell her I made it and would meet her at her office to go surprise Mami. The plan was that R would lead Mami outside to the car with R covering her eyes where I would be waiting. They came outside with Little Miss I and Little Mister G in Mami's arms and when her eyes landed on me, I could only watch in amusement as the babies were handed off to R so Mami could do her level best to squeeze the life out of me.

She doesn't know I noticed, but I could see the dampness on her cheeks.

I was then introduced to my godchildren and although Little Mister G stayed asleep, Little Miss I was curious and stared at me with wide brown eyes. I gave her my finger which she immediately latched onto and squirmed with an odd cooing sound, not quite giggling, as I rubbed my nose against hers in an eskimo kiss.

I demanded offered to make dinner for everyone as I knew they were exhausted from work on R's part and taking care of two newborns, fresh from the hospital. Chicken fajitas were the order of the day which was more difficult than anticipated with Little Mister G deciding my shirt needed decoration and throwing up on my chest. Thankfully years of dealing with baby cousins had taught me a few things and one is to always ALWAYS have a change of clothes handy.

Letting them go to sleep, I caught a taxi back to my hotel (my first time ever doing so) and was knocked out as soon as my head hit the pillows.

So far I've taken this morning to explore the city as I've all ready been to Acorn Street, Trinity Church, and parts of MIT's campus. I feel flashbacks to Italy as I am just wandering around, occasionally asking people about the buildings around me. I think my next stop of interest is Boston harbour and then finding some breakfast. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

Well folks I shall be signing off now as I am writing this outside of a cafe downtown. I'll be back either tonight or tomorrow with part two of my adventures here.

Happy trails!

A Tale of Bucks, Pups, and a Kiss for Luck

And hello 2009!

My New Year's Eve was spent with Eva, Daybreak, and The Devil A. K. A. my puppy. We played Monopoly. Me against team of Eva and Daybreak. I still say there was some money being slipped out of the bank but I'm not bitter.

Really.

More like impressed that they weren't caught.

You know the row between Jail/Just Visiting and Free Parking? Yeah that was death for me. By the end of the game, there was a hotel on New York Ave., Tennessee Ave., and St. James Place. To make matters worse, there were 3 houses on the purple properties whose names escape me at the moment.

Like I said, death.

I tried to fight back in other areas of the board but after landing on two hotels back-to-back and needing to mortgage one set of my houses, the game was pretty much over.

Then to add insult to injury, Daybreak takes a handful of their winnings, fans them out in her hands and gives her best attempt at a diabolical laugh. If you remember the classic nicktoon Rugrats, think Angelica's.

After my humiliating defeat we watched Mrs. Doubtfire and then Mulan, during which Daybreak fell asleep curled up against Eva's lap. After getting her ready for bed and then tucked in, we sat on the couch and sat talking for the last half hour of 2008.

When my clock struck 12, I put my hand on her cheek and kissed her. She put her arms around my neck and we stayed that way for a long minute, leaning our foreheads against each other after breaking apart.

Not a bad end to 2008. Not bad at all.

What I Know Now: A Letter to Myself (circa 12, 30, 2007)

Dear Kendall,

Hi Kendall, it's me Kendall. Sorry for the weirdness (although you really should be used to it at this point) but I've always wanted to use that line. Figure now would be my best chance.

Right now you are just beginning the road to recovery. You are just starting to deal with Rosie's death and are nowhere close to dealing with Gabi's. You still have nightmares of what you have gone through. You still think of yourself as trash.

But despite all that, you have not broken. You bent but it's like Tinkerbell told us. We're too stubborn to ever let anything break us. You want to be redeemed. You were all ready forgiven, now we just need to forgive ourselves for the wrong we've done.


You have quite the year ahead of you and you are about to meet some of the most wonderful people with some interesting times ahead.

You're going to be a teacher to a group of funny, sweet, mildly exasperating 6 year-olds among whom are a girl who will try and figure out how to make you a pet. A boy who is the first grade's answer to a ladies' man. And a girl who when she grows up, could easily become one of the most influential women in the world.

You're going to learn how to play guitar and in June will play with Pippi in front of a crowd of about 150. No, I'm not shitting you. And you are even going to sing. I'll wait for you to come back to consciousness before continuing.

Awake yet?

Good.

You know those blog things you've heard about? Well after a suggestion from Tink to write down your life story, you start one. Who would want to read it you ask? Quite a few, actually. Not sure how many actually read this. You even read other peoples' and have become friends with some.

You're even going to fall in love with someone again. You all ready know her but you two are about to become close. Her daughter will even begin to see you as her papa and as much as you fight it you'll see her as your own in return. It will start with you two studying for your upcoming psychology class together and then you'll start hanging out. Then in the summer, [Imogen] will duck out of a clubbing adventure as she has grown tired of you dancing around each other.

At this point, you're wondering what happens with Tinkerbell. In fact, I'm willing to put money down on the fact that you are now convinced that you did something to fuck up again. You did not, I promise. You two will go through a dark period over the summer but eventually things will work themselves out. A word of warning now though, do not EVER apologize for her loving you. The results won't be pretty.

We have come a long way, my friend and we still have so very far left to go.

Just remember this: "Love yourself—accept yourself—forgive yourself—and be good to yourself, because without you the rest of us are without a source of many wonderful things."

So in closing, chin up. Remember to eat every day, it's hard I know but we are losing weight a bit too quickly. Try not to take the world's problems onto your shoulder, I know you still will as it is ingrained into who we are but I have to try. Accept the happiness in your life, we do deserve it if we merely let ourselves feel. And I will see you in the mirror soon.

The future is looking bright, my friend.

Sincerely,

Kendall, age 20.92

The Difference Between Need and Want

So today was a day that I had been looking forward to since I first started on my job back in June. My first day of training as a cook. I had been busing tables long enough that I all ready knew where everything was in the back, it was mainly learning how to prepare each dish. Then at the end of my workday, I got to prepare an order myself. Steak, medium well and a baked potato.

Watching me, The Diva commented that it was like seeing a duck in water for the first time.

I felt a sense of...I suppose accomplishment would be the right word. I like the other cooks. They may be insanely meticulous at times, kind of have to be for what they do, but they're good men and women. And funny as hell. I thought that perhaps I had found my niche.

Then as I was walking towards the bathroom, I saw Dolly and B serving tables and talking with the customers. Smiling at people as they passed by. In that one moment, I felt that I had lost something precious.

I had not talked to customers all day and even though we have the occasional asshat come through, the good ones who smile and chat are what make my day worth it. Losing that interaction hurt. I loved seeing the looks as they would pass on praise for good service to other servers or to the cooks. I loved the banter me and Dolly could go through as we worked our sections. I love the lulls we have in customers where we can actually speak with the people we serve.

I don't want to give that up.

So despite the fact that my wage would have increased about 3 dollars per hour, I am pretty sure I am not meant to be in the back preparing food. I know I am a good cook, and with enough experience perhaps a great one but for now, that is not where I am supposed to be.

I thought I would be making the right choice. I thought I would find myself thinking how glad I was that my time as a server was over. I thought I would be happy.

I'm not.

Sometimes we do get what we want, only to find out we all ready had what we need.

On Appreciation

You never know quite what you have until it's gone. I thought I had all ready learned that lesson last year, really DID NOT need the remedial course.

I remember being afraid of Eva developing feelings for me, thinking I did not deserve a second chance. That she could do so much better.

I remember feeling terrified and simultaneously amazed that Daybreak would adopt me as her dad and that I would come to think of her as my own.

Slowly but surely, these two carved out a home in my heart. So when Eva told me we should stop seeing each other, it was like my world stopped. My heart pounded and my eyes widened as I tried to comprehend why.

Yet despite how horrible I felt and still do, I almost hissed a negative response when asked if I regretted dating her in first place.

From her using my legs as a pillow while we studied, to picnic lunches in the park and lazing the day away playing, to the days I would keep an eye on Daybreak while Eva worked, to teasing each other like a family would, the past seven months have been some of the happiest of my life and I would not trade them.

One of my greatest fears was that I would do something to screw up this relationship. In the irony that seems to govern my life at times, I did too well trying to prove I could do right by someone and Eva broke up with me before we got too close for lasting damage.

My simple response was, "it's too late for that hun."

So Internet, I turn to you in my time of need. Especially those of who you are single parents or have dated them.

Is it OK to be selfish and want this to work even after she broke up with me? Or should I just try and be her friend? I'm at a lost here as I want so badly to just say screw it and kiss her senseless the next time I see her. I probably won't (not saying never as I know how my emotions take over at times) but it won't be for lack of desire to.

I know when to admit that I'm in over my head. Now is most definitely one of those times.

Wednesday Workshop: Why I So Often Describe Myself As A Failure

It's that time again, my freaky darlings. My prompt this week goes as follows:

3.) Describe a "new road" you've taken in your life.

Originally I was going to do the "talking mouse" prompt but that's kind of taken a life all its own. So this is a tide-over so to speak. I promise to put up my short story once it's finished.

5...4...3...2...1...

------------------------
I have often said that I feel college has made me dumber but most people don't realize how little I am exaggerating that statement.

In January/February of my senior year of high school, I received a letter from the University of Florida offering me a full scholarship. Needless to say I jumped on it. I arrived not knowing a soul and by the time November rolled around, it had become my home. As an old friend put it, "Florida was my home, North Carolina was just where I grew up."

However, I was struggling to pass one class and was averaging a low C in another, my other twp classes I was coasting with a low B. Knowing my average could handle a C much more than it could a failing grade, I skipped a review section and end up missing the announcement about a change in final exam time to study for the class I was afraid to fail.

I missed that final and thus failed that class. The one dim ray of light was that maybe my hard work had paid off and I managed to scrape a passing grade in the one I studied my ass for. No dice. About a week later, I receive a letter dismissing for poor academic achievement.

I applied for readmission that spring. Denied. And right after spring break, had to move out of the dorm. I had told no one about this so when that time came I made a decision and started my brief stint as a homeless person.

I'm not going to go into all the details because I'm still too ashamed to talk about it as only Tinkerbell and Eva know everything about those days. All I will say is that this period ended with me being arrested for vagrancy.

I came back to North Carolina, sick with guilt, at least mildly traumatized, and with only a promise not to do so keeping me from ending my life. I am completely serious when I state that Tinkerbell saved me back then.

So come January, I took about 17 hours of community college classes in attempts to be readmitted to UF. However, the past year had taught me to always have a backup plan and a backup for that backup and applied to the University of North Carolina - Chapel Hill as well as several other schools just in case. It was during one of those community college classes that I became friends with Eva.

Because of my distraction from studying for midterms that I failed to doublecheck whether my transcripts had been sent to UF in time for the cutoff date. The word 'failure' seems to be pathetically common in my life.

However I was admitted to UNC and began making plans to share an apartment with the Bait come May. My educational life was finally getting back on track. But there was a serious snag in regards to my personal life.

But that story has largely been told here and here.

I can't believe I even admitted to half of this. I can't but feel like I have some rather pointed comments coming my way. All I can say to those who wish to do so is that you cannot say anything, and I mean anything, that I had not thought to myself multiple times over.

I am proud to admit though that I've maintained at least a 3.6 for the past three semesters (including the summer) and am on track to graduate on time in the spring of 2010.

I've come a long way from where I was this time last year. But at least I know who I am and what I am capable of now. Most importantly, I'm happy with that knowledge.

I Just Wanna Get Off

And in my typical fashion, I caught the innuendo as soon as I typed that.

Ahem, anywho. For those that have been reading my blog, I'm sorry that I haven't been up to snuff lately. I've come down with a bad case of LIFE recently. The doctors are still unsure whether or not it is terminal.

Don't feel like I'm singling you out blogging friends, I've been largely MIA from Fbook, AIM, and Twitter for a while. With all I have going on right now, my internet life has suffered. Hopefully the load will ease up shortly.

With the semester ending in two weeks, professors have got the bright idea to load us down with work on top of the studying needing for final exams. Two research papers, a drama production, a final in Bio lab, and then four final exams.

Were this not enough, I got the bright idea in my head to work 35 hour weeks from the week before Thanksgiving until classes start back up in January. I want to crawl in a hole and die.

I don't eat. I'm barely sleeping. And as I was shaving this morning, I found 3 grey hairs in my goatee. GREY?! I know that with the cold weather I have to use my cane at times but seriously. I'm too young for this shit.

A panic attack is imminent. I can just feel it creeping closer until I'm in full meltdown mode.

Sorry for the mini-rant folks, I promise that I will be back soon with something much more positive. Either the letters to Santa my students are writing or something equally...holiday-esque.

Happy trails!

You're Not A Guy, You're A Kendall

I'm a wee bit old fashioned. I'll admit it.

I was raised by an 80 year-old Spanish woman and two lesbians, so I grew up...oddly. Of those three, only one is still alive but sadly moved back to Boston in January.

Because of them, I am a very polite individual by nature. Until the time I was 15, I would stand whenever a female left the table. I kid you not. I always say please and thank you and I use the words sir and ma'am a lot. If I am walking out a door and I even see someone who might use it as well, even if they're 20 seconds away, I will stop and hold it for them. I can't help it.

I did not know quite how to take it when The Ginger told me I was too nice when I held the door for someone.

This also applies to my relationships.

I couldn't do a one-night stand. I'm not even sure I could pull a "friends with benefits" type deal. I highly doubt it. Cheating is out of the question.

Maybe rape did have some positive effects. I don't see sex as just something to do nor do I try and sleep with everything in a skirt. Despite rumours to the contrary. I need to love someone to be intimate with them. I spent far too long thinking of myself as used goods to cheapen the act.

Is it really that strange for a 20 year-old guy NOT to sleep around?

Eva was amazed that it took me as long as I did to get to that point. I remember one particular fight over the summer where I tried to explain to her why I didn't have sex with her and how it was not because I did not find her attractive. I just...wasn't in love with her yet.

“Sex is more than an act of pleasure, it's the ability to be able to feel so close to a person, so connected, so comfortable that it's almost breathtaking to the point you feel you can’t take it. And at this moment you're a part of them."

Am I naive?

Maybe.

But I like being able to look in the mirror and not see "used goods" anymore.

Turkey Day '08

I'm sitting at the kitchen table in my parents' house writing this. I'm tired, in a wee bit of stomach pain, and overall satisfied with the day.

Cool Things That Happened:

1. As soon as I arrived this morning, me, my mom, and my sister started cooking breakfast. French toast, scrambled eggs, Smith sausage, and hash browns. It was delish.

2. Uncle E & The Lady Friend finally admitted they were married. I saw The Grandmother starting to say something negative so I stepped in and gave them both hugs. Why would she be unhappy at her youngest brother being married? Well...it may have something to do with the fact that his wife is white.

3. Me, The Mini-Me, and Aunt C decorating The Godmother's Christmas tree.

4. Speaking of The Godmother, I got to have a ball teasing her about a man in her life whom I shall refer to as Hopeful Godfather (HG for short). She has been divorced since before I was born and I am happy to see her spending time with someone.

5. Eva had me stop by for a while at her mom's where I had homemade apple cider for the first time. I think I'm just addicted to any apple product.

The one bad thing to happen today was me not really being able to eat Thanksgiving dinner. Know the saying "I am my own worst enemy." In my case, that's true. My stomach is my worst enemy. Le sigh.

I managed to get along with The Grandmother and my dad so I am feeling quite accomplished today. Sadly a lot of the people I wanted to see didn't come to town.

I figure since today was Thanksgiving and all, I should name at least one thing I am thankful for.

Here goes...

I am thankful for the people in my life. They who have accepted me for who I really am and love me anyway. Who I can go to for a hug, a laugh, or just a simple smile. I am thankful that I have been blessed to know them and try my best to help them be happy. So thanks guys, even when I am on a sugar high from hell and you want to duct tape my mouth shut, I still love you.

Now I need to get to sleep as me and Scarlett are braving Black Friday in Raleigh tomorrow.

Oh and I am also thankful for this



Thank you Far! I love it.

Enjoy your Turkey Day/Thursday Everyone!

P. S. Please be safe.

Talking With Strangers = Kids Don't Try This At Home

Know how your parents always told you not to talk to strangers? Well apparently I never really listened to that lesson. I think it's my conditioning from years of journalism.

I'm sitting on a bench during my lunch break, reading A Lion Among Men, when an elderly man sits down beside me. He leans forward on his cane and looks at me from the corner of his eye.

Man: Is that a good book?

Me: Yes sir, I actually like them better than the original Oz books.

The man nods with an odd smile and then makes a rather random comment.

Man: It's always nice to see young men reading and not wasting time on their XStations.

I almost correct him when I notice the smirk.

Man: You know my wife, God rest her soul, was a bookworm herself. Rainy days she would sit in the kitchen with whatever book she found laying around.

Me: That's how I am. I'm sorry for your loss.

Man: I won't lie, I didn't know how I would go on for a while. Plus we had two girls, one about your age and one who had just turned 12.

Me: What happened?

Man: It was breast cancer. When she found out it was terminal, she never really quit living and even died with a smile.

Me: Your wife sounds like an amazing person.

Man: Oh that she was. She lived every day to her fullest and I can only try and do the same. I've fought in Korea and 'Nam, and one thing that hell taught me is that all we can hope for is that when we go we leave something that will last beyond our lifetimes. That we did something good.

Me: I think if I can look God in the eye and say honestly that I had no talent left because I used everything He gave me, I would have made full use of my time here.

He rubs his chin and nods before looking up the road at the bus one stop away.

Man: That's a good way of looking at it. Well young man, I must be going. I wish you well in life. Oh and be sure to work with your lady. Humans aren't meant to be alone.

As the man was getting on the bus, something clicks in my head. I never told this man I was in a relationship so how could he say that with such assurance?



Now while y'all try and ponder that one, I'm going to eat some dinner and change clothes. Why? Well, I may be going to a certain movie premiere tonight. I can neither confirm nor deny whether it involves vampires or not.

Happy trails!

To Teach And Never Be Weary

"Mr. Kendall?"

"Yes Lulu?"

"Why do you want to be a teacher?"

20 sets of eyes looked to me for my answer, 19 from their spots on the floor and the last from Frizzle as she did paperwork on her desk. Reading circle

I looked over to the left and asked Skittles, a small and rather outspoken girl, if she remembered when she hugged me after I helped her with her reading. She nodded but was still confused as to where I was going with this.

That moment when she could move from letters to syllables to words to sentences with increasing confidence was what destroyed any doubts I had that teaching was what I wanted to do with my life. I always knew I wanted a career that could help people in some way, shape, or form. I just wasn't entirely sure what that would be.

Helping a child reach their heights and move on beyond them has become my goal. And I am nothing if not single-mindedly determined when I set my mind to something. I have never wanted a job where it is the same thing every day and this is something where I'm guaranteed to be doing something different.

I remember a professor of mine once saying that teaching is a draining profession. That you give and give with nothing in return until you are but a husk of your former self.

I disagree with this view emphatically.

I see a teacher as one who does continually give of themselves yes, however, we are given something in return besides an unappreciative salary. To know you had a hand, however small, in someone else's success is an amazing feeling and one I hope I never feel numb to.

I'll find another line of work when that happens.

Is this going to be difficult?

Yes but often times the most worthwhile things in life are.



And if they aren't worthwhile, I don't know who is.

A Day To Just Be

Sometimes it is cathartic to spend time with your friends. So often I am too busy stressing to just chill. Too preoccupied with getting things done that I forget to relax.

Like a flashback to the summer; me, Eva, and Imogen spent a day just being our goofy selves. I had not realized just how much I missed this. School, and most specifically tests, did not exist today. Schedules were a thing of the past. Our only jobs were to have fun. There was no such thing as a budget.

This was just S, K, & C: The Comeback Tour.

• Went out into the courtyard outside my apartment and attempted to tie dye some sheets. Ended up with more of the dye on ourselves than the sheet but it was still a blast.
• Made a huge pile of leaves to jump in. Now sporting a lovely scrape on my back from jumping in with Eva in my arms.
  
• Decided to take a trip to the pond and fed breadcrumbs to the ducks there. Had a butterfly land in my hand which was very cool.
  
• Had someone coming from the game (drunk as all get out) ask if we were all dating each other and commenting that I was a lucky bastard. Proceed to spend the next five minutes screwing with the poor guy's head.
• Watched Sweeney Todd and Juno. I was informed quite matter-of-factly by Imogen that I had a crush on Helena Bonham Carter, couldn't believably deny this charge. Loved the music so much that I had Limewire downloading the soundtracks to both during Juno.
• Made a pizza entirely from scratch with whatever toppings we could think of. According to Eva, "it's like my stomach is having an orgasm."
  
• Decided we hadn't had enough singing and went out to do some karaoke. Me and Eva got a standing ovation singing Aladdin's "A Whole New World" and Faith Hill & Tim McGraw's "It's Your Love". Deciding to do a silly song, we got Imogen on stage with us to sing Rocky Horror's "Time Warp." Great times.
• Came back to my apartment around 1 in the morning, all showered and changed into sleeping clothes, and camped out in my living room. Decided to be complete nerds and tell ghost stories with requisite flashlight.
• Woke up with Eva snuggled against my back and Imogen's foot almost in my eye.
  
• Decided to hit up IHOP for breakfast. Mmm, french toast. Me and Imogen proved we really were 5 at heart and spent a good bit of time flicking bits of hashbrown at each other.
  
• Imogen went home and me and Eva headed back to my apartment. Not sure who kissed who first but we end up having quite lovely slow sex. Afterward take a nap curled up together.
  
• See her home, decide to crawl in bed and continue reading A Lion Among Men.
  

Sometimes it is wonderful to just spend a carefree day with the people you love. I didn't think about the tests or papers I have coming up. I didn't stress about my mom and dad's divorce. I wasn't worried about finding (and affording) an apartment or townhouse with Scarlett next year.

I was completely destressed, a feeling I had forgotten over the last month.

I was just Kendall.

And damn if that didn't feel fantastic.

When was the last time you took a day to just live?

"Yes We Can."

Dear Senator Obama,

Before anything else, I offer my condolences to you and your family for the loss of your grandmother. From what I know she was proud of the man you became which is all we can really hope for.

On this the eve of election day, I can imagine you are being swamped by mail from everyone spanning adoring fans to vitriolic critics. I doubt you will even read this yourself but that will not stop my sending it. I want to get these words out there. I need to.

Tomorrow the majority of Americans will hit the polls and vote, deciding which candidate they believe will best lead this country in the next four years. Which is a wonderful thing. Every single citizen capable of voting should do so. Suffrage is not only a right; it is a responsibility. So no matter which candidate a person votes for, I am happy they are doing their duty. When I was 14, my Civics teacher said a sentence that has stayed with me to this day. "If you don't vote, don't complain."

I remember watching the Democratic Presidential Debates last July and thinking either Senator Clinton, Senator Edwards, or yourself would be the presidential nominee.

Sadly, I must recognize that this presidential election has brought out the worst in many of us on both sides. I may be voting for you but I do not see why that makes so many of your supporters defame and demonize Republican voters.

I can respect John McCain. I may disagree with him incredibly but I believe that he has what he sees as America's best interests at heart. I admire the fact that he and his wife took in a 3 month old girl from Bangladesh. Along with his service record and rather affable personality. I see no reason to hate Senator McCain and I do not really see that changing.

I have heard you called a racist, a socialist, a terrorist, even the Anti Christ. I've heard McCain voters referred to as racists, idiots, rednecks, and all manner of nastiness.

Sir, I believe with all my heart that you can truly take us into the new century. I want to see the wounds in our foreign standing healed. I want the title of American to be something to be proud of again. I want to be proud of my country and secure in the knowledge that the head of my government has my best interests in mind.

No matter what the outcome, I thank you. You have become the embodiment of change to a tired and angry people. So win or lose, I believe what you have done will resonate through the generations regardless.

There are so many issues that concern me, it is enough to make my pulse race and head feel light and full of cotton. I stress as I wonder if decades down the road, I will be able to have social security as a fallback. I look at nations like Great Britain and wonder why we cannot have nationalized health care as well. I feel the anger well up in my stomach when I look at my friends and know that should they want a family, it will be an uphill battle from the start because they are both women. I hear people look at peace in the Middle East as lost cause and know in my heart of hearts that it will take time and successful diplomacy. I despise the helplessness I feel when I watch the shame on the face of one of my students because her family can't afford new clothes. I look forward to the day when we are not reliant on gas and where alternative energy sources are considered more than just a pipe dream.

I look forward to a country where people of all ages, cultural, social, and economic backgrounds, religious beliefs, sexual orientations, educational backgrounds, and abilities are fully included and participating in society. A country where each and every one of its citizens is supported, accepted, and valued.

Tomorrow our world will change. Just what it will change into it has yet to be decided at the moment. Soon we will know who the next President of the United States will be. Many months of travel and sacrifice and tears and pain will tomorrow be vindicated.

In 2016, I want to be able to look back on 8 years of peace, equality, and prosperity. As someone who is increasingly thinking like a father, I want to be able to afford to both send my daughter to school and make sure she has health care. I want her to grow up to be very proud of her country and how it really is a land of hope for all people.

So on the eve of this historic election, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for standing up. Thank you for speaking out. Thank you for believing we deserve better and convincing us of the same. Thank you for sacrificing time with your family to campaign for what you believe in. Thank you for giving us hope. Thank you for giving me faith in politicians for the first time. Thank you for being who you are and having the willingness to share that with us all.

Respectfully,

Kendall A.

The Day The Innocence Died

Eating lunch with a group of my Bio classmates, we somehow stumbled upon the topic of frat parties and date rape. The girls shared about how they never let their drinks out of their sight while us guys talked about keeping an eye on our female friends. The conversation had moved to more pleasant subjects when one jackass from the table over makes the comment that any one stupid enough to be raped, had it coming.

Please allow me to explain something. I think rapists are the scum of the earth along with child abusers and murderers. So when this guy said this as if it was common sense, I had to fight down the urge to throw down right there. Thankfully, The Ginger had to have a death grip on my wrist so I wouldn't make a move.

In the urge to protect one of my secrets, I quickly calmed myself down. Apparently not quick enough. The Ginger pulled me around the corner and asked why I took what that guy said so personally. I felt exposed. I stamped out (barely) the tremor in my voice as I told her that it was personal to me.

Why?

Well because I know how it feels to be on the receiving end. One day in the early fall of 1996, my innocence was obliterated behind a neighboring house. I was held down by four guys who decided to have some fun with the kid who thought he could run his mouth to them.

Two things I took away from that experience.

1. Adults are useless. I remember going home and doing what I could to clean myself. I remember my mom asking how my day was. I said it was OK. Showing just how much she knew her oldest child, she believed me. I think that's when I gave up on her.
   
2. Sex is pain. I was terrified of sex for most of my life. I thought of myself as used goods until Tinkerbell held me and told me that couldn't be farther from the truth. I was stunned. She knew I had been raped and still thought I was worth something? I'm sad to say but it made no sense to me that she would not turn me away at that point. That night, I got over my fear of physical intimacy for good.That night, I finally cried.
   

For so many years I carried so much rage in me. No 8 year-old should ever know what it is like to want to see someone dead. I did not share this with anyone until I was 19 and I didn't share the full story until I was almost 20. Then with Tinkerbell's help, I learned to let go of the hate and forgive them. Which was far more difficult than it sounds.

No one ever ASKS to be raped and to think such tripe goes beyond ignorance into inhumane territory. If you yourself are a victim of rape or any type of sexual abuse, I urge you to seek help somewhere either from a professional or from a highly trusted friend or relative.

You are not alone.

You are not worthless.

You DID NOT DESERVE IT.

Remember There Is Help...There Is Hope.

A Letter To Heaven

For those expecting a post of my normal length tonight, I'm sorry to disappoint. My heart just isn't in it.

I was in Bio lecture when I happened to look down at my cell phone and noticed the date. Like a strike from Zeus himself, the significance of today hit me. In that moment, I felt like someone had my heart in an unforgiving vice grip. My vision began to blur as tears crept into the corners of my eyes.

A year ago today, the woman who restored my faith in family, died as a result of a collision with a drunk driver. She was the one who decided to help an 8 year-old boy learn to love reading and slowly, through pure heart and stubbornness, showed she cared for and even loved him as her own. Two weeks before this, she had found out she was pregnant.

When my life went to hell last year, she was one of the handful of people I could talk to. I regret not telling her just how much she meant to me while she was still alive.

Even though we were in no way related, I had thought of her as my Mom from the time I was 14 and even now. Ironically, I found out later she and her wife had long considered adopting me. I finally felt wanted for once.

You should see Mami, she looks like she's ready to pop any day now. Hopefully I'll get up to Mass for Christmas and sometime after Los Gemelos Nuevos are born to see her. I promise to be a fantastic big brother/godfather to them. She has found love again in an old friend, you'd approve. R can even keep her from being her normal hotheaded self which I know you'd appreciate.

Mom, I would like to say a few things. I love you, I can't stress that enough and I hope I'm doing you proud. I look forward to the day I can see you again. We'll sip sweet tea (I know a bunch of people, yourself included, who'd be madder than wet hornets if Heaven had no sweet tea) and I'll tell you all about my crazy adventures. But until then, I can rest easy knowing you haven't stopped watching out for me.

Su Hijo,

Kendall

P. S. When I finally get where you are, you bring the coffee and I'll bring the cake.

"When I Get Where I'm Goin'"

With my 21st birthday creeping up on me slowly but surely, I feel like Atlas. With graduation only 46 credits away, I feel like all the air is being sucked from the room. At the risk of sounding like a whiny college student, the future scares the living daylights out of me.

The weird part is that it's not the job market that scares me. I know teachers are needed everywhere and with Teach For America, I shouldn't have too much difficulty making it in the door.

It's not the election. No matter who wins, although I've made it fairly obvious who I voted for, the world will go on either way. Is there very high potential for rough times? Yes but America's a tough old broad and she won't give up without fighting with all the grit she has.

It's not the idea of being independent from my parents that scares me. Emotionally, I've been independent since I was in my early teens. Financially, I have been since about July. So that isn't it either.

In my heart of hearts, the one I hide behind smiles and a seemingly easy-going nature, I know what the problem is. I just hate admitting to it.

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted a family of my own. Despite everything I've seen and gone through, I still want to believe in happily ever after. No matter how much my mind tries to pull life support on that hope, it has yet to die. I'm realizing now that it likely never will.

I was dancing with Daybreak while she stood on my toes when she looks up at me and asks, "when are you and Mommy going to give me a little sister?" I very nearly tripped but caught myself at the last moment. A sister? While I managed to say "I didn't know if that would happen" and act OK on the outside, on the inside was another matter entirely.

While Eva was helping Daybreak change into the new outfits she received for her birthday, Eva's mom pulled me off to the side and asked what my plans were regarding Eva. I had an idea as to where she was going with this but decided to be diplomatic and said I didn't want to move too fast.

She looked at me for a moment before telling me, in an almost chiding tone, not to let fear rule me. Before I could even ask what she was talking about, she told me to think about it then strode off to talk with Eva's older sisters who were sipping wine coolers.

When I was changing into my clown costume later that day, I found a single index card in my pocket. In Eva's mother's handwriting, it said:

"Do not be afraid to live, to laugh and to love. My daughter and my granddaughter both trust you so trust in yourself to have the strength to follow your heart. It won't lead you astray.

Know that if and when the time comes, you have my blessing."

Earlier this morning, Eva was curled up against my side while Daybreak was using my chest as a pillow. And looking at them, I realize I do treat them like family. I felt Eva move closer and smiled.

Do I know where I'll be in the unknown future?

No.

And thinking back to the morning, of watching two of the most important people in my life sleeping...the unknown doesn't seem so ominous anymore.

Quite honestly, I'm...dare I say it...looking forward to what tomorrow brings.

A Letter To My Daybreak

Dear Daybreak,

I can't believe you'll be four years old on Friday. Should I let you read this when you're older, you'll be shocked to know your mom called me almost in tears about this fact the other night. This growing up thing you're doing? Yeah, that needs to stop ASAP. You so often act like a child far older that I forget you're not quite old enough for kindergarten yet.

You have all ready begun to master the art of sarcasm and the eye roll. You love talking on the phone. You channel a Mexican jumping bean whenever your mom takes you shopping. It's like a teenager in the body of a preschooler. Then you'll turn around tell me and your mom to please be quiet because Sesame Street is on and you can't miss it. Don't even get me started on someone talking during a commercial. It's like a capital crime to you.

Did you know I saw you a few days after you were born? Your mom stopped by the school with you and I even got to hold you for a few minutes. You were very small, not even as long as my forearm and I hadn't seen your gorgeous green eyes yet. I had no idea then that I would start to call you mine. I've only known you since late February and yet it scares me how much I love you.

There, I admit it.

You scared me.

I can see you as a teenager, reading this. You turn to me, bat your eyelashes, and say "you were scared of little ole me?"

Dear, I stand guilty as charged.

Since I've known you, your vocabulary has exploded. From the moment you found out I spoke Spanish, you made me your Dora buddy. You would flit around the house and point to random things, say their Spanish name, then look to me for confirmation. You are always looking for something to learn. Eva says it isn't surprising since your favourite word has always been 'why'.

"Why is the ground down and the sky up?"

"Why can't we live in the water like my goldfish?"

"Why are you (me) so much darker than Mommy?"

When me and Eva were still just friends and even when we first started dating, I didn't want you to get too attached to me. I didn't want you to be heartbroken if things didn't work out between us. I don't know how to put into words just how much it hurt to see you burst into tears during that conversation.

You melt my little black heart (no pun intended) on a regular basis with the comments that come out of your mouth. Such as you telling every person in Ben & Jerry's they could eat poo if they didn't like me and Eva dating each other. Or your passionate stance that no one should be alone on the holidays, not even scarecrows.

With every day me and you spend together, Eva has to ask if you are becoming my daughter by osmosis. When you and your mom came over for dinner the other night, you told me you were ready to go through the haunted lab. I asked if you were sure you wanted to. You gave me a look that clearly said YES, DID I STUTTER? so I let it go. I'm pretty much sure you'll be scared out of your mind but I call this learning the hard way.

You now try and read anything you can get your little hands on. I have never laughed so hard in a grocery store before in my life as when I heard you ask loudly MOMMY, WHAT'S A RUBBER? DO GROWN-UPS HAVE TUB TOYS TOO?! Come to think of it, I've never rushed out (against my will) of one so fast either. Yet you still prefer to sit in either me or Eva's lap and have us read to you. Whatever takes the least amount of energy right? After all, driving your mom nuts is a full-time job even between the two of us.

I've never met a child quite like you. You will jump from the top of a slide without hesitation. I thought me and Eva were about to have a heart attack. You dusted your hands on your jeans, gave us a crooked grin, and said you just wanted to see if the ground would catch you. Issac Newton has nothing on this kid.

Then on the nights I'm there when it's your bedtime, you'll ask me to check under your bed and in your closet. For monsters, you say. But unlike most children, you're not afraid of them. You want them to crawl into bed with you so they can be comfortable. You looked dead at me and said, everyone needs someone to love them. Even monsters. You explained that they're like you when you haven't had a good nap. Cranky and mean. Some sleep would make them feel better.

You're finally getting over your phobia of milk or booger juice as you call it. Yeah, my bad. I have to admit though that seeing you flee at the very sight of a cow is hilarious and completely worth the smack to the head. I've even started baking cookies from scratch since you love doing it so much. Although you did cry when I made fun of you for getting the flour everywhere. I even felt horrible. That is until you threw some IN MY FACE. Yeah, that's my girl.

By the way, I will never forget you pointing to Sarah Palin on television and asking 'why is this lady on TV instead of Wal-Mart?'

For the past three weeks, all you have been able to talk about is your birthday bash on Saturday. Especially when you found out your Aunt I and Aunt G were coming home from New York to be there. You've talked my ear off at length on what dress you plan to wear, and how cool the cake your mom let you pick out is going to be. You have what games you want to play planned out beside your bed. Twice now you've actually talked yourself to sleep. Congratulations on surpassing me in the motormouth department.

Sadly, I was unable to figure out just how to get Big Bird to your party.

Maybe next year.

I have to smile watching you drive your pink Barbie convertible with your sunglasses on. You throw your head back and laugh at the freedom you have as you zoom across your Grandma's backyard. But as you race towards the sunset, my smile is a bit sad.

One day you'll do that for real.

At age four, you think all boys but me, your uncles, and your new cousin are icky. You think make-up is just for playtime with your mom. And you still think skittles are a zillion times more valuable than a dollar bill. Will you stay this child forever? No, you thought Peter Pan was silly for not wanting to grow up. You'll grow into an amazing woman who I look forward to getting to know.

But for now?

You're still the kid who snuggles between me and Eva for story time and one who I'm equally proud of and fascinated by.

So happy birthday Daybreak, I love you. Yes even the time when I tricked you into trying broccoli.

Love,
Papa

Maybe I Really Am A Nice Person

I actually had a different blog post in mind for today but felt the events of this morning were more prevalent.

I was driving home after leaving Greenville, listening to whatever random song my iPod was playing. I had just gotten into the Chapel Hill city limits when I notice the jeep about 60 yards ahead has turned its hazard lights on and is pulling off to the side.

With memories of my Nana teaching me to always help someone in need at the forefront of my mind, I pull off a bit behind them. The driver is a rather harried-looking woman in her early 30's. As she opens the door, I hear the sounds of a screaming baby.

I announce myself before asking if she needs help, I didn't want to scare the poor woman. She looks at me and I could see her eyes widen a bit and she starts looking around for something. The more cynical part of me thinks it was something to defend herself with from the potential mugger coming at her.

I ask her what's the problem and in heavily accented English, she tells me her tire has a flat and she was scared to drive on it with her son and daughter in the car. Around the word "drive" she slipped completely into Spanish. I tell her to hold on, in Spanish. It was like the fact I spoke the same language she did had a calming effect and she no longer visibly seemed intimidated by me. I go back to my car, pop the trunk, and come back with my spare tire.

We made small talk while I took off her old tire, there had been a tack in it, and replaced it. I found out she had been looking for a sign pointing towards UNC hospital as her sister was having a baby.

Once it's finished, I tell her to follow me and we'll take a way so as to avoid all the traffic. When we arrive at the main building 10 minutes later, she gets out and one hand is holding a cell phone to her ear while her other hand is holding that of a little boy, no older than 2, who is sucking his thumb. Holding his sleeve is a little girl of the same age clutching a Dora the Explorer doll. The woman ends her phone call and tells me that her sister would like to thank me.

Now I'm usually a pretty outgoing person but I do have moments of shyness. Especially if it's someone thanking me for something, worse if it's someone I do not actually know. Plus, I thought it would be awkward for me to meet a woman who had given birth in the wee hours of the morning and was now in recovery.

So it is with great trepidation that I follow her up to the recovery room. We get there and I let them go in ahead of me. Not even a minute had passed by when the woman poked her head out and told me her sister was asking about me.

I walked into her room and I see a woman who could not have been three years older than me lying in a bed. She seemed far too small to have just had a baby. She motions me over and takes my hand in both of hers. She thanks me for making sure her sister got here safely and quickly.

I tried to tell her that anyone would have done it.

She then gave me a disquieting piercing look and told me that not many would stop to help a stranger anymore. And many who would have ulterior motives for doing so. She then reached to her wrist and took off one of the rosary beads there.

I want you to have this. I want you to look at it and remember what you did today. Kindness to strangers isn't dead and you stand here as prove of that. The Good Samaritan. God Bless You.

I spent another 30 minutes with them. I found out their names and where they were from. I gave them mine. The younger sister even asked that I go to their church next Sunday.

Take something from this folks. It doesn't cost much if anything to do something for others. And often, it has its own rewards.