Cornflake Girl

Yah, it's a Tori Amos song. It's also what Jase called me now and again because I was from the land of corn... Iowa. I left there before this picture was taken in Oklahoma. The only experience with my birth state comes from visiting my grandparents. Getting lost in their big farm houses and basements. When you think of fond childhood memories... the visions of a little Hollie running through a farm and field with her cousins and playing hide and seek in what felt like the biggest houses to the imagination. Watching my grandma cook dinner and always having a cookie at my available fingertips... home made, no doubt. There were aunts and uncles, cousins and their friends. There were the old cars and toys that were uniquely just for the trips to see family. I went back this Thanksgiving weekend. Back for the first time since my Grandma K passed away when I was 10... it's been nearly 20 years. I forgot the feel of those small towns. Almost village-like. The little grocery stores and the kids who look like they are 13 bagging your food... and bringing it out to your car. I was left with the question... why oh why are all midwest farm houses white??? I did not see a single one that wasn't. The houses white, the barns red. Remind me to google that!

After the long drive... the instant we entered there was snow on the ground. I forgot how absurdly cold it was there at this time of year. It's harsh. Bordering Minnesota I wanted to start talking like I was from Sweden. We stayed in most of the time. Stepping into my Grandma's little house (she sold the big house on the farm after my grandpa died when I was 6) I had never been to this one. I figured there would be no memories there. I was proved wrong! Almost every inch of her walls were covered with pictures. There were pictures of me from birth on up... pictures of my brother I haven't seen since I was a child. There was green shag carpet and a little television. There were the crocheted items throughout the house. There were still cookies at every available fingertip... if not more. Of course, there was my grandma. She was smaller and frailer... she couldn't walk well and she forgot alot. But... to her, I was still her "little Hollie" (being the youngest of ALL of the cousins) and "oh so special" just like 20 years ago. It was wonderful feeling like a kid to your grandma... there were moments in her gentle embrace I felt as if I was that big brown eyed blonde girl with pigtails holding a very special gift from her grandma. She loved the sound of them playing. Her smile was illuminating. This time, the gift I was holding was the gift of my own children sharing in her love.

I am so pleased we went... and I am so pleased to have spent the holiday with loved ones and the spirit of the Iowa I knew as a child.

Traditions

I'm a stickler for them. Here's me... celebrating Jason's life on the anniversary of his death. Keeping the memory alive and vibrant by physically manifesting the little characteristics and likes of him. So, here.. I have a clove in my mouth. The smell and instant reminder of his uniqueness and inability to meld into the crowd. They make the kind I get in a marble color now rather than all black. Traditionally, the beer in my hand would be a Guiness but regretfully I can not handle that thick motor oil. So, I compromised with something oh so yummy. He would want me to... make my own rules. I clanked a bottle with a friend and toasted a hearty Cheers to Jase.

It's Thursday. I'm cleaning... slowly. I need this place clean because my parents are coming to town. I don't know why I can not muster up the desire to work harder.

I've been thinking alot. Who I am, what I have become. Decisions I have made and should make. Right now, I feel so solid in my character. So strong as a person. So full in my heart. I will elaborate more on the blessings and curses that I am currently going through on these relevations at a later time. For right now, I am going to play with my adorable son, get the mail and stay warm because it is CHILLY!

November 14, 2002

5 years ago... this is the only clip of news I see on the internet left today....

Cpl. Jason D. Fisher, 27, of Thousand Oaks, Calif., and Pfc. Joseph P. Favorito III, 20, of Higgins Lake, Mich.,

Fisher and Favorito died Nov. 14 after an M1A1 Abrams tank ran over them during a pre-dawn raid at the Joint Readiness Training Center, Fort Polk, La. Both soldiers were from Fort Campbell, Ky.

This day threw everything we new and understood about life out the window. How could it happen? Why? Why? We have never found that answer. We can only speculate. We have grown leaps and bounds from this day. There will never ever and I can say that with extreme honesty be another man like him, ever. He was our brother and he was our best friend. At our side. For some reason, the one thought that sticks out about him today is the day we told him he was going to be an Uncle. The pride in his face was illuminating.

The building in which housed his funeral is now a lazer tag place. Odd. I know. But sitting outside of that building after seeing him there.... I remember the words to the song Bother by Stone Sour it was the only thing that put words to the empty look and place in our hearts that laid in. I even remember hearing it over and over at that time.

So sick and tired...

I just want to scream.

Miscommunication. Tension. Over-thinking. Under-slept. Exasperated. Expectations. Loneliness. Over-worked. Under-paid. Worry. Fear. Stress. Nerves. Sick. Tired. Sick. Tired.

Calm serenity

Really all I have to say about that. This state is beautiful.

Crayons in my box....

Hollie in the raw....


I've never thought of myself as a needy girl. In fact, most of the time I am pretty content. I am not high maintenance. I don't need all the finer things in life. For the most part, I'm a natural being who walks barefoot on the grass. I adapt to my situations extremely well and have been called a "free spirit." If you're my friend and even if you're not, you do not have to worry about impressing me. I don't feel I am intimidating, in fact, I personally feel that my non-judgemental nature makes me extremely approachable. It hasn't kicked me in the ass yet. I appreciate you for who you are and if I don't agree with your stance.. I learn from you. I am 28 years old and my brain is still as absorbant as ever. I take in my surroundings.. I pick what I like, apply it to myself and chuck the rest.




I decided to make this new blog to regain a fresh start in looking at myself. Stepping back and observing the content and composure of your existence once in a while is good for your soul. There are many colors that make up exactly who I am. Each with their own purpose and hue. Sometimes it's as if a child has taken them all out and drawn over and over with my many colors until they are nothing but a blob of incoherant blah. It helps to sift through the box and take each color out of it's appropriate spot, drawing a single line and observing the beauty of that particular shade of me. Perhaps, taking a couple different colors and melding them together to create a new shade of thought. That's all what this is about.