pilgrim

cross the threshold
pilgrim on a journey

the promise
of a new day
stirs the soul
the spirit
awakens

change
difficult at best
crucial
to grow

we all have crosses to carry
the sins of the past
the uncertainty of the future
the doubt of the present
one same as many

those before you
blazed the trail
reap the rewards
of their war
all
their losses
their victories
their wounds
their scars
for you

those behind you
unmet
unknown
unaware
will thank you
when the day breaks
as they begin for themselves
the journey
you are now on
whether you know it or not

the masses will praise you
on a new day

some day

no map
no compass
no star
to guide
your way

only your soul
knows the path
the heart and the brain
wage an eternal war
of what it wants
of what is real
of what it will deny
in the end
the heart will prevail
truth
sets us all free

stumble
fall
cry
rise
over and over and over
find your way

you are not alone
no man is an island
even in the darkness
when all you see
is
loss
misery
pain

others are here
waiting
when the light comes
you will see
you
were
never
alone

see me
hear me
feel me
believe me
trust me

i am here

gather your courage
pin it to your heart
muster your strength
pulse through your body
breathe
leap
soar

daybreak
the darkness
retreats

you are loved

jump

seasons change
winter spring summer fall
back to winter again
the clock ticks
relentless
unforgiving

first snowfall of the season
daybreak covered in white
not unexpected
but always a surprise

a melancholy of sorts
invades the soul

life not from the movies
or tv
false dreams sold with a laugh track
and applause
of how it should be
not how it is

always dreamed of the
gatherings
celebrations
festivities
of the perfect life
a life well lived

surrounded by people
evidence you are loved

a ship at sea
lost
floating
drifting
forgotten

a random moment
changes the course

on the black horizon
light
hope
faith
found

a hand extended
grab and hold

light pierces the darkness
find your way
i am here
you are not alone
you will heal

a connection
long thought lost

you said…
jump in with both feet

as we stand on the edge

maybe this time
it will be
different
seasons change

Natasha Bedingfield

Natasha Bedingfield and Me!

It's not a spot on my shirt, just a dumb reflection from the weird lights in studio. And yes, she was looking for a pocket full of sunshine. No lie.

Natasha Bedingfield was just in the studios to do a meet and greet with a few contest winners and I got to go in and listen to her sing a few of her hit songs. She is not only adorable but is also really funny. You would know her songs if you heard them. Some of her hit songs include “Love Like This”, “Unwritten”, “These Words”, “Pocket Full Of Sunshine”, and the new single “Angel”.

After the performance, which was great, I walked to up get a photo and for some reason I stood on the opposite side of her than everyone else had, then I wondered if I should switch sides. Not sure what to do, I just blurted out…

ME: (standing on her right side) Oh sorry, do you have a good side for the picture?
NATASHA: No, do you?
ME: Actually yes. (I switch sides with her. I’m now on her left side.)
NATASHA: Well, aren’t you just like Mariah Carey.
ME: You have no idea.
(She gets really close to me. REALLY CLOSE. Photo is taken.)
ME: (looking at her, pretending to be shocked and stepping back) Natasha did you just get frisky with me?
NATASHA: (laughing) Yes, I did.
ME: Oh yeah…I thought I felt your hand slip. I’ll see you up at the front desk.
NATASHA: You know…I used to be a receptionist.
ME: Really? So I can look forward to being an international rock star some day?
NATASHA: Yes. When I was a receptionist I was known to be the office flirt.
(People laugh and do the whole “Oh yeah” thing.)
ME: Same here.
NATASHA: You too?
ME: Oh yeah. I’m always “accidently” dropping pens…
BARB: Jason! GO! NOW!
ME: Thanks Natasha. It was great to meet you.
NATASHA: You too, Jason. Bye.

I’m pretty sure I was just hit on by an international pop star. I love my job.

(This post was written on October 21. And, yes, I am wearing a different colored polo shirt that the one in the Metro Station picture. Just looks the same due to the weird lights.)

Metro Station

Metro Station and Me!

Dirty hot mess.

I just met the members of the band Metro Station. Now, again, my inner 13 year old girl has surfaced much to my embarrassment. I love their song “Shake It.” I bought it off iTunes when it was released. I have the CD. I usually throw it on to every CD mix that I burn. I L-O-V-E IT!

So naturally when I heard they were coming in…I was rather pumped. Heck ya. Awesome.

Well…all I can say is this. G to the R to the O to the S to the S. GROSS! Like make me vomit in my mouth type of gross.

First off they looked dirty. As in filthy dirty. As in critters crawling on them dirty. Ugh. Second they are completely unable to communicate other than in some weird grunts and groans. Third all they care about is the dirty hair. It was almost like a bizarre obsessive compulsive behavior. They kept pulling their hair down into their face over and over and over. Odd to say the least.

So I go back to do a photo and one of them shakes my hand. Ish. Then I get in the middle and we do a photo and I’m trying to make small talk with them and they just can’t really speak well. I told them how a lot of the fans that just left were really excited for the show tonight and things like that and they just slowly blinked at me. Then I said something about the girl who just left who’s world was rocked because her scarf matched one of the guy’s shirts. Turns it out was Trace Cyrus (yes, Miley Cyrus’ half brother) and I made a joke about it. No laughs. Nothing. I grabbed my camera and left.

I was back at my desk when they came through to leave. Then one by one they had to use the bathroom, so they lingered at my desk for awhile. I tried to do some more small talk but once again, nothing. Just more hair flipping and pulling and smoothing over their faces.

Then as they are walking out. Trace Cyrus walks past my desk and says “Nice to meet you brother.” What the hell? I tell you that Cyrus family is one hot mess. No two ways about that.

Shake it? No thanks. I’ll never “shake it” again.

(This was written on October 20.)