By 7pm most cubicles and hallways are empty. The sane people of the world have long since declared the day finished and returned home. I'm not one of them.

Tonight found me behind one of the capeside hangars indulging in the view from the SRB boat dock. Unlike other times there were a number of cars parked there, but the place was deserted. The only sounds came from the large mechanical objects I was surrounded by, each whirring and creaking to its own rhythm. Static from the P.A. system, the rustle of a plastic bag, the lapping of the water against shore and structure... It had all the makings of a scene from Myst, leaving me both nervous and intrigued.

It was the second time I had sought the outdoors today. The first had been in the middle of the afternoon when I spent a sea of heartbeats sitting on a bench twirling the cap for the plastic bottle I'd brought with me. I couldn't remember the last time I had left my desk to walk around the track as I had once done so often. My unexpected revelation during yesterday's wandering pointed out how different my behaviour is from a year ago. No sick leave, no vanishing in the middle of the afternoon. Back then I don't think anybody cared to notice. Something suggests the current group wouldn't let me get away with that sort of stuff for long before calling me on it. It's difficult to indulge in any destructive tendencies that creep up when you think people are watching.

June felt familiar, yet foreign. When I finally chose to go back inside I walked to the west lot and took the path that characterized my first months on the job. Every day I'd set off the automatic doors and climb the stairs with a beat up blue backpack slung over one shoulder and a bottle of kool-aid in hand. Walking that particular stretch of hallway still takes me back. It's a bittersweet feeling; there's so much I miss from that time.

Back on the boat dock I snapped pictures of a brilliant white sun over the water and recalled how the commutes my first weeks there were spent aiming the camera at objects on the other side of my windshield. "My Private Nation" would take me up 95 in the morning, then back in the afternoon as I rushed to change before heading out the door again. I thought about how many happy memories I had filled that temporary bedroom at my sister's with and, just for a moment, believed that was the life I would be returning to. It couldn't be further from reality; I don't have anything to go home for anymore.

But that wasn't what kept me out tonight. It was the calm and the beauty of a world my eyes haven't soaked up enough of. It was curiosity about which color the sun would turn as it said "good night". It was the taste of contentment that came with knowing how powerful the simplest of things can be. I sat on the concrete overlooking the water aware with every gentle gust that it was just me, the manatees, and God. And there was nothing more I needed. Except, maybe, to stay. No part of me wanted to leave.

When the time had come, I took one more glance out over the water and tipped my hand to the sun in thanks. I observed the rustle of my jeans with each footstep back to Milo. The wind picked up for a minute and I greeted it with arms outstretched, eyes closed, face tilted toward the sky. The girl reflected in the window as I finally unlocked the car had moist eyes, a solemn yet slightly smiling expression on her lips, and a nest of hair tangled from being at the wind's mercy for an hour.

Yet somehow in all of the stumbling around inside myself I managed to notice the rabbit. I could see him twitching with fear as I crept closer for a picture and was every bit as nervous as he was. I didn't want him to be afraid and talked quietly to offer assurance that I meant no harm. I hadn't seen one since Juniper emerged from the bushes as I sat on the high pagoda one May afternoon before the foundation of that shelter crumbled and the storms left my enchanted forest in total disarray. This unexpected discovery brought a genuine smile to my face. As Mr. Matthews sings, everyday things change, basically they stay the same. There was still magic in the world and it hadn't forgotten how to find me.

And so ended my second anniversary at the cape.

Captured At:2341

It's approximately midnight as I stand on the dock with the whole canal spread before me while he gets things ready for us to go out. Every few minutes a fish leaps up to add its own splash to the gentle rolling of the liquid blackness and confuse the dog standing with us. The rest of the world is quiet, radiating a peace that reminds me why I would love to live on the water one day.

This kayak is different from ones I've used before in that it has pedals instead of oars. I catch on quickly as we pilot our respective vessels eastward toward the creek, soaking up a deeper wow with each rotation. A small patch of sky directly overhead has cleared enough to reveal the stars while, in contrast, lightning flashes behind clouds to the south.

It isn't until we turn up another canal that I finally see the glowing water. An entire school of fish jumping away as we approach is sparking blue trails behind them. I watch it under his kayak and between the pedals of my own mesmerized by the luminescence dancing on the surface. Though I have been told of it before, this moment is my first experience and I'm pleased to discover it is every bit as magical as I had imagined.

Back at the house I give his wife and friend a thumbs up and smile as I announce that I didn't fall in once. I've proven them correct; they never seemed concerned that I would when they told me to go. I'm glad I listened.

I want to explain where I was, how I came to be there and why it surprised me, but I don't want to ruin the feeling that comes when I pull back the mental pictures of my hour outside. I write today and a very unhelpful thought comes to mind ringing of a difficult truth: if we'd done it right, that's how it should have been.

Captured At:1230

"So you're tired of wakin' up on empty..."

I’m working on a project for one of my coworkers. He has no idea it’s coming, but my hope is that it’s the right combination of thoughtful and silly to make him smile. A majority of my day today was spent on that, and I’ve marveled at every step as it has somehow come together better than I could have imagined it in the beginning. Not only am I doing something nice for somebody else, but I’m challenging myself in the process. That’s an ideal combination for a person like me.

During this evening’s building session I spotted a CD laying on my desk that another coworker had lent me. The combination of notes and the outside world squeezing sounds of wind and raindrops through my screen carried me off to a completely different time. Suddenly, for all of the progress I had made, I felt very sad. I put the pieces down and stepped onto the balcony to lean against the railing and watch life as I had ignored it most of the day.

“Home” has been coming at me all weekend. I feel it in the air as Florida’s season changes from false spring to summer and I get completely lost. Maybe that’s what triggered a craving for the lemon cake filling my apartment with a fragrance it has never been gifted with before. Maybe I just wanted to remember what it’s like to live within walls that know they’re encircling love.

Tonight I concluded that the batter on the beaters tastes better when somebody else has been running the mixer. It doesn’t have anything to do with the ingredients in the bowl so much as the hands that put them there. I remembered when then kitchens I lived with weren’t deserted and wasting away from disuse; when they gave rise to laugher and smiles with the same ease as every batch of muffins or cookies, every loaf of bread, every pot boiling over in error.

I finally broke down and bought a vacuum. With the exception of a hallway waiting for them to finish repairs after the flood my floors are cleaner than they’ve been in a long time. The dishes are done, the bed is made, and my last check of the cake suggests I put too much rising agent in it. Still, it smells fantastic.

And I have no earthly idea what I’m going to do with it.

Moments like these I wish my life were more settled. Three days from now when I board that plane for my next adventure I’ll be glad it isn’t. I look to the future and I wonder which of the currents underlying those two desires will win out. Great as it would be, I’m not sure a middle ground exists.

But I can be sure that however it works will be right even if I don’t know what that is or how I get there. I have to believe that even on the days when it doesn’t feel like a good enough answer. Even on the days I’m sad, hurt, longing, or waiting with varying amounts of patience. It will all balance out.

Captured At: 047

Pay close attention to Line #4 ;)

Hey Lord, take a look around tonight
And find where my baby's gonna be
Hey Lord, would ya look out for her tonight
'Cause she is far across the sea
Hey Lord, would ya look out for her tonight
And make sure she's gonna be alright
And things are gonna be alright with me

Hey Lord, would you look out for her tonight
And make sure all her dreams are sweet
Hey Lord, would ya guide her along the roads
And make them softer for her feet
Hey Lord, would ya look out for her tonight
And make sure that she's gonna be alright
Until she's home in here with me

Hey Lord, would you look out for her tonight
If she is sleepin' under the sky
Hey Lord, make sure the ground she's sleepin' on
Is always warm and dry
Hey don't you give her too much rain
But try to keep her away from pain
'Cause my baby hates to cry

Hey Lord, won't you look out for her tonight
'Cause it gets rough along the way
Said Lord, if this song sounds strange
It's just because I don't know how to pray
So won't you give her peace of mind
And if you ever find the time
Won't you tell her I miss her ev'ry day

-Billy Joel

Captured At: 945

Consider this a placeholder for whatever adventures from the past week I may choose to write down. I'm safely back home and very glad to be here. It appears my absence saw the following:

- My brother finally got his hair cut, and not just a little. Not only is it a big deal that this finally happened, but last he told me he thought he'd keep it short for a while. Wow.

- Tropical storm season began its attack on Florida. Oh joy.

- My sister found her wedding dress and I'm told it's absolutely gorgeous. The date is also now official. Less than 350 days until I get my new brother. :)

- The princess departed us on Thursday after about 10 years with the family. I'm okay with it I think, and I suspected it was coming after my last trip home. Even if I couldn't cuddle her as I wanted, my hope is that up until the last she knew she was loved.

- Milo is steadily building his case for replacement. I'm not very happy about this as him being sick is a terrible inconvenience for somebody such as myself who lives alone and far away from the guarded area they work in. Not really what I wanted to have to figure out right now, but oh well.

All in all, it's good to be home. I can't recall the last time my bed looked so inviting...

Captured At:2127

June 18th, somewhere over the Atlantic:

Last year my parents gave me luggage for Christmas. I was less than impressed. Sure I had been saying for most of my life that I wanted to see the world, but at that moment I had no plans of going anywhere.

A departing friend put a necklace in my hand before he left. "Hang on to my St. Christopher medal for me," he said. It was another link in a chain that led me to realize that when something is to be there's no stopping it. After a minute of research it struck me that my plans were quite possibly about to be changed. The man depicted was the patron saint of travelers.

And when the opportunity appeared to leave the country for the first time in nearly a decade it was for a location I would not have chosen because it was one I had already been to. I've since come to realize it is that exact reason which made it the ideal destination. I needed to experience it the right way - the way I should have if things had been different the first time around.

World Cup Germany is everything the media shows on TV. There are people everywhere in wigs, hats, face paint, t-shirts and jerseys sporting the colors and emblems of their home nation or favorite team as they chant, sing, blow whistles, and beep the horns in their cars. The streets and trains are dotted with super heroes, flags draped like capes around their shoulders. I saw banners I couldn't identify and found a warm spot in my heart for Deutschland's black, red and gold. Standing in the middle of the host mob as their team scored the first goal of the event is something I may never forget. The spirit was incredible, carried with a power you couldn't help but feel. "Berlin! Berlin! Wir fahren nach Berlin!"

Also stamped into my memory is the sight I found while exiting the Hamburg stadium during the final hour of my 25th birthday. The eastern sky boasted a deep orange uncharacteristic of that hour back home which took my breath away. To the west a vibrant full moon was rising and I was torn over which to watch more closely as I waited. The summer solstice is only a few days away; if I hadn't come back maybe I would have returned to see if the city gets a true midnight sun.

Walking the streets of Berlin made me realize how little I actually remember from History class. It seemed odd to think that a seasoned salt pillar such as myself has no real concept of the past beyond limited memories of the last quarter century. It was another instance where I realized just how small I am; how fleeting and insignificant my life really is.

And yet more than ever I wanted to use it well.

I saw things in myself this trip which I was glad to have spotted. I found others that need to be changed. One of my companions made the remark as we conversed that I was "so moral". It didn't come across as the most complimentary of statements, but it was good for me to hear it. Perhaps I actually am getting closer to where I want to be and, if so, I don't care what condemnation might come with it.

There was one thing on this trip I really wanted to do; something I didn't think the guys would be excited about getting dragged off to. When we exited the train in Munich I informed them that I would be hopping another to fulfill my quest to find a castle. That I didn't expect them to come and that we'd meet up again after I got back. They were slightly reluctant at first to lose their "tour guide", but this departure was one of the best decisions I made.

The train I boarded looked older than the others we had been riding for days. I dozed, and awoke detecting the scent of livestock permeating the walls and windows. I can still feel the heat thickening inside the car as I took all of this in. It was clear the inhabitants of my bucolic surroundings enjoyed a completely different type of life than I had been witnessing in the cities. I had found my way out of the hustle and bustle to the quiet and beautiful. How very like me.

Neuschwanstein was the first of two castles I got close to, and it was gorgeous with an absolutely breathtaking view. It looked exactly like the 3D puzzle I had occupied myself with while grounded for a week as a child. I don't think I ever imagined I would actually get to see the real thing.

Walking those grounds and the cobbled streets in cities like Heidelberg and Cologne add a whole new dimension to the medieval history lessons I received in school. I could feel and imagine it almost like I had stepped through time myself and at the next corner I would scare some peasant with my strange flashing device that could freeze the world inside of it.

In some ways Cologne was the most significant stop on this journey. It surprised me how much jumped into recognition as I walked and how much I saw that I couldn't remember being there the first time when I'm sure it must have been. The girl there in '97 didn't have her eyes open - this I know. Would she have seen the same things if circumstances had been different? I'd like to believe so, but I can't quite be sure. I've come so far.

And that's why part of me thinks this trip had to happen - so I could clean things up in order to keep pressing forward. All things with time. It's good to know the most difficult of spots we get ourselves into can reach a real resolution. That helps strengthen the hope I fight to cling to on a more than daily basis.

I learned on this trip that it's every bit as easy to spot the Americans abroad as I believed. I watched the children - the little girl with flower petals, the Indian boy on the train playing with his father - and knew that the most important things in life come across without language. I thought about the modern history of the streets I walked and felt thankful I live in a place whose cities know little about war. We take so much for granted here in the states and I fear my life will see us painfully reminded that no one nation can control the world and that pride really does come before the fall.

And after a week away, though my wanderlust remained far from satiated, I was ready to go home. I wanted to see everyone I love and had missed while I was gone. I wanted to share my stories and insights, though I'm fairly certain a majority will never be written down. I know it will all come up over time and that my whirlwind tour of Germany served purposes that I have yet to understand. I still believe there's something incredible being cultivated within me and that somehow I really will be used to make a difference. The more I reflect, the stronger I feel it. The more places I go and opportunities I'm given, the more confident I am that none of this is accidental or happening in vain.

I guess you could say she's rolling...

Captured At:2302

There are times when words completely fail me and this seems to be one of them. I partly blame that on the fact that these days I'm running on a combination of adrenaline and caffine as my body fights to readjust. What I'm struck with, however, is really good. It's a sense of joy and empowerment springing from a series of small things which lead me to believe more good things than I can begin to express.

I returned Sunday night and decided to make a trip to the office. Nobody in their right mind returns from ten days of vacation to visit their buiding at 1130p, but I had brought back chocolate and little bags of gummy bears for everybody that I wanted to have waiting in the mailboxes when they arrived in the morning. I continue to love the feel of the cape after hours. For all of the amazing things I've seen it's the stolen moments away that resonate most strongly within me.

So I took a step. I made a small gesture of reaching out with the hope of making at least one person smile. Monday night an email arrived from somebody in the group I've never really talked to before. "Thanks..," it said. "I really appreciated it." I guess it worked, and we've had more interactions in the last three days than the last three months.

I'm witnessing parts of the group come together like I've never quite seen before. It's almost like there was a little wall just waiting for an excuse to crumble. I saw this new form of unity for the first time as we built Hillary 2008 headquarters in the TA's office. I saw it again when I returned to find my cubicle had been turned pink and girly and learned of just how many people played a part in that. The next target has been identified and, though I didn't come up with the idea to get them, I've become the point to bouncing ideas off of. I spent yesterday evening before I left with people I'd never done more than say "hi" to in the hallways before - not just in conversation, but also in providing help I was thrilled to discover I could actually give. It was wonderful to feel I was beginning to bridge some of the gaps.

There's also one who always responds the same way when I ask how they're doing. It's a positive answer dripping with a lack of sincerity that consistently fails to give me any insight. Last time instead of letting it pass I asked them to tell me something they do care about; something they have a passion for. The fact that there were multiple answers gives me hope.

With regards to my cubicle, I decided to play back. I showed up yesterday wearing pigtails and my Blue's Clues shirt because I thought it would help me better look the part. Responses included:

"You look about 15. Now all we need to do is get you in a chair with the makeup."

"They've got to go. I can handle them today, but not the rest of the week."
"It's kind of hard to take me seriously like this, huh?"
"You're just sitting there looking up at me all..."::makes cutesy face::

"I think your hair looks good that way."

"They do make you look a lot younger..."

"The pigtails have got to go."
"Why? What's wrong with them?"
"They've just got to go. They're cute, but...but they're too cute."

And the winner of most obviously inappropriate comment: "Where's the plaid skirt?" I laughed and responded that I draw the line at the hair.

One told me they're glad I joined the group. Apparently having somebody young around to liven things up is a positive contribution. Almost everyone who saw me smiled, and it became my turn to laugh as one gave them a tug at the end of the day before going home. Mission accomplished.

The picture I sent to a few people outside of the office was dubbed as "heartbreakingly cute". I'm 25 going on 7 I suppose...

Also on the list of warm fuzzies is the <30 second interaction of common courtesy last night I couldn't help but smile at.

"Hello."
"Hi, how are you?"
"Blessed. ::pause:: Are you?"

The tone as he uttered the first word carried such a calm humility that it was easily the best answer I have ever heard. Struck by that and the way his expression changed to something joyful as he shouted his question after me, all I could do was turn back with a huge grin to enthusiastically answer, "Absolutely!"

And in that moment, as with this one, I knew it to be true.

Captured At:2115

On love, in Sadness

I have been telling my sister for several months that pictures of her wedding are already in demand. My coworkers understand what my role in this event will entail – playing dress up on a scale never before seen in my short history – and want documented proof of such a momentous occasion. One tried to spin it as being a sign for them of how much I love my sister. The truth is that they’d be thrilled to have it for blackmail; in its own twisted way that only supports my belief that they actually do love me.

In attempting to improve my “Maid of Honor” rating I was slammed into unexpectedly by the music on a photographer’s website. My mind wandered off with it making for some rough days which I’m praying have reached their conclusion this evening. Ironically, it’s in this mindset which I’ve been faced with the very target these instrumental bullets struck.

There are times when you recognize just how powerful love in any of its various forms can be. For example, when somebody you’ve hurt beyond comprehension chooses to listen to you at their own expense. You know each word uttered pokes swollen scars too newly closed to provide any confidence your next sentence won’t cause them to burst, yet still they remain. The best expression of love I could have shown would have been to keep my mouth shut, but I failed. Mental state is no excuse. Chalk up one more strike.

I often listen to myself as I dispense relationship advice wondering who I am to talk. Of course most of it’s not really advice; they’re questions and carefully chosen statements intended to trigger the necessary considerable thought. And while I may not have a successful relationship to provide as evidence I certainly have some spectacularly messed up ones behind me to draw upon as what not to do. From the ones I talk about to the ones I ignore or have to pretend didn’t exist, each has something useful tangled in there which I can provide in trying to help others avoid my mistakes. I genuinely want people’s lives to be easier, not more difficult. I have come to recognize this, too, as an expression of love.

Of course the biggest challenge, as always, is learning from my own mistakes. And I’m trying to do that. As I thought about the latest minor source of nervousness I realized I had successfully avoided the first two of my most common errors with guys.

Unfortunately I can’t determine who has generally ended up worse off - those who fell for me and didn’t get me or those who fell for me and actually did. This poor kid was doomed either way and I knew I had to set the record straight before he got his hopes too high up there. I felt bad even before looking into the eyes I had just knocked the sparkle out of, but it really was for the best. It’s not time for me yet and I know this. Hopefully when my head stops feeling I’ll still believe I handled it the right way.

Sometimes I really think I should have some sort of warning label. Even if I did, I’m pretty sure it would get ignored. The verbal equivalents always do.

Captured At:2358

And I'm the future of the space program...

During my visit with a superior yesterday afternoon I was handed a yellow sticky note and asked to write something down before affixing it to some of the papers in front of me. I wrote the wrong first letter and needed a second Post-It. Nice job on my part.

The first note didn't go to waste, however. I doodled on it and stuck it to something sitting on the desk facing toward the individual who had given it to me. He laughed.

I left shortly after to attend an event we were demoing at in Orlando. When I returned this morning - and keep in mind the place is still decorated like a little girl's room - I found something had been stuck to the monitor of my Mac.

Yes, that does say "Griffin". As in Mike Griffin, NASA Administrator. All I could do was laugh.

Captured At:1202