Angie needs a hobby.

I have nothing to say. I've been sitting here for quite sometime, staring off in to nothing, waiting to be inspired. For weeks, I've been wanting to write and needing to write, but haven't done it. All posts in my mind eventually come around to my dead Grandmother. I've been thinking you would judge me and tell me to get over it. That you would say it was enough time already and read the first sentence and then quickly click to another blog- a funny blog or a blog where they give away free stuff. But, then I remembered that only a few people read this anyway and they like me AND that it is my blog. I started it. I can write whatever the hell I want.

And then I heard Nick say something that twisted the knife: We are all still a little bit "8th grade." Damn! I hated 8th grade, but yet, it is so true. I still always think that everyone notices my zits and when I gain or lose weight or change my hair or by a new shirt. NEWSFLASH: no one cares. I'm glad that no one cares, I really am. I haven't worn make-up for 2 weeks and the people that liked me with make-up appear to still like me without. Don't worry: I'm not going to grow braidable arm pit hair and stop showering. But sometimes, when life feels like a lot, somethings don't seem as important.

Anyway, I'm glad you didn't notice.

Like I was saying, I'm glad no one cares what I say or do or wear....but I still don't believe it. Hmmm. Maybe I need counseling.

Here are some pics from last May:





Normally, May is my favorite month. The flowers are blooming and the tree buds have broken free. The whole month smells like lilacs and fresh-cut grass. The temperature is perfect and I can officially where flip-flops without frozen toes. And it's my birthday. Well, not just mine, but mine is one of them and I love birthdays. I believe in not just a birthday, but a "birthday week" of fun things to do and presents. Oh, how I have come to love presents! I share the spotlight with Nick, who had a birthday last week. Then there is mother's day and my parents anniversary and Memorial Day then both of my Grandma's celebrate a birthday in the same week.

See, it always come back to the Grandma.

I said normally, May is my favorite month. This year though, I'd rather just skip to June. June is a nice month. We can go to the beach in June. I'm hoping that my birthday is forgotten this year. I don't want to celebrate it or have in acknowledged in public. I don't want anyone to sing or ask me what I want to do. I'm hoping that May 18 gets lost somewhere between the baby shower for my new nephew and my cousins wedding. It's on a Monday. No one remembers birthdays on Mondays.

I'm racking my brain to remember what we did last year on May 18. I remember hiding my aunt Kathy for most of the day, while we prepared to surprise my Grandma for her upcoming birthday on the 22nd. We had dinner at her house. I'm not completely positive, but I think we celebrated our birthdays together that night. I can't remember what we ate, or even who was there. I can't remember one present or if we had ice cream or not. It was one of those moments that I tried hard to soak in because I knew it was one of our last. But, it's all a blur.

And so this year, I just want to skip right to June, where the sun is hot and out everyday. Where I won't have to have a birthday without her till next year and where I won't have to remember hers. I yearn for June, where Memorial Day is past and I won't be forced to walk in to a cemetery and put flowers on a plot of settled dirt where they believe she still is and say something nice.

I'm so ready for June.