Pain. This four letter word is comprised of so much more than the four letters that form it. In fact, in our culture, pain is quite the abomination. At the first twinge of a headache, we pop some pain killers. It's easier than addressing the stress or poor nutrition or even exhaustion responsible. When a child cries, we shut them up with humiliation--"Big boys (or girls) don't cry." Our mantra is to "suck it up" as we carry our excruciating burdens with a smile plastered on our face. Why are we so afraid of pain? This aversion to pain is even more amazing in the context of relationships. It always seems that when we break up or end a friendship or even face a death, we do whatever we can to eradicate any proof of it's existence. Photographs are cropped or destroyed or packed away in boxes. Friends and family are sworn to secrecy, no longer allowed to utter the offending names. Gifts are returned or exploded in a backyard bonfire. All this in the name of

I love my car horn. It surpasses the greatness of the radio, and air conditioning, and even automatic windows, giving my vehicle a voice on streets filled with idiot drivers. Singing in it's sweet monotone voice the only sounds one can hear while doing 95 on the Turnpike. Sometimes it's generous, allowing someone into the flow of traffic, guiding another vehicle into the proper lane, saying hello to a friendly face walking on the side walk, or whispering a thank you to another soul who shares my road rules. Sometimes it's furious, calling out the light runners, and stop sign gliders, and fools with kids jumping belt-free in the back seat who don't seem to understand that my SUV will trample their Honda if my brakes give way when they cut me off. ©2007, A.B.

I turned 30 at 4:56 p.m. Friday. As a kid I had imagined what it would be like to turn 20...30...40...and so on. So far, none of it has been anything like I imagined. This birthday was, in fact, so much better than I could have imagined. It all started when the puppy woke me at 4:30 to go out. My husband stirred from his slumber long enough to wish me a happy birthday. I wore a delightfully girly skirt to work. When I stepped out of my car at work, I discovered two of my co-workers decorating my classroom door with a banner and bows. I felt like a sorority sister, an experience I didn't get to have because of my non-traditional college years. My students gave me gifts and cards all throughout the day, including this poem that made me cry: You are my teacher, The feather in my heavy burdens The light at the end of the... classroom The source of my writing soul and the drive of the spirit That lies in these words I write and release. You are my toughest critic The knower of my quirks

I really don't recall exactly how the idea crossed our minds. Saturday night is 80's Night at Antigua in downtown Orlando. We knew we wanted to go...and it just seemed like more fun if we dressed the part, especially since it was my birthday. As I told other people of the plan, I judged by their reactions that we had a good idea. I highly recommend doing something unconventional in public. There's no way to completely describe the looks and comments directed at us as we walked down Garland Ave. Someone hooted at us from a car window. Several people stared. Most people were trying to figure out if we were in costume or just followed the November 1987 issue of Cosmo for fashion ideas. Here's my favorite conversation of the night. DOOR CHICK: $5 ME: Oh, do you have a birthday special? DOOR CHICK: (looking us up and down) Is it your birthday? ME: Yes. (She stamps my hand.) FRIEND: Oh, it's her birthday. Why do you think we dressed this way? I promise we have better fash

I saw this on Christy and Becky's blog. I will reply there, but I also felt the need to post my own here for my reference. So, here are 6 weird things about me. 1. I prefer to eat my food in small bites. This goes for everything from potato chips (which I bite off in pieces) to sandwiches and candy bars (which I tear into small bites before eating). I cut up salad and even steak into the smallest bites possible. Yes, I am often the last person eating. 2. I have a freakish memory. Wherever I have worked, I have known by memory all the phone numbers I used and could recall them at any given moment. When something is lost, I can just close my eyes and picture the exact place where I last left or saw it. I can see in my head (and read) pages from books. When I took music lessons, I would have the song completely memorized after 2 play throughs. (My earliest memory is the day my sister was born--I was 18 months old.) 3. I try on clothes in the middle of the store over my own clothes.

It's almost official...my not-so-roaring 20's are almost over. As this birthday has approached, people have asked me all the typical "are you afraid of getting older" questions and needlessly reassured me that life isn't over yet. The truth is that I'm kind of looking forward to moving into a new decade. My 20's sucked. They were filled with devastating betrayal, gut-wrenching heartache, empty loneliness, changes...changes...changes, and too many questions about myself the world around me. I really didn't like the person I saw staring back at me in the mirror. But I needed those years to prepare me for the place where my feet stand today. I have a stunning view of the world here. The lessons I learned and dilemmas I faced now have a subtext. It's a beautiful path ahead, and I'm looking forward to the rest of my journey. So ask me again how I feel when I move out of the 26-34 survey age group!

On my way to work this morning, I stumbled across a stunning sight. It was so incredible that I stopped traffic on a major road just so I could take a picture from my car window. I have a thing for the Beat writers...or any artist who truly experiences life and uses the experience as inspiration. I felt like one this morning. Florida Snow 46 degrees Fahrenheit one of those February mornings when Floridians try to stay warm and don their scarves. Even the air confused by the falling mercury calls together its molecules to huddle try to stay warm and blanket the field. ©2007, A.B. My plan is to actually turn this concept into an abstract travel book, so it was kind of fun to experiment with the concept.

I am like so many people in the world--willing and able to dish out advice, but not so quick to take it. That was a lovely little message I posted this weekend. I knew the whole time that I was typing it that I desperately needed to take my own advice. I'm most certainly a control freak, convinced somewhere in the depths of my subconscious that I single-handedly affect the the rotation of the Earth...but I digress. Yesterday I found myself in shopping hell—5:15 in a Wal-Mart standing with my 1 item in a 10-person long line. I did my usual dance...poked my head out of line and counted the number of items in each person's shopping cart/hands...wrote a few nasty letters to the manager in my head about how they need to convert the garden center cash register to a 10-item or less lane...cursed the people in front of me who apparently walked across the entire store for a gallon of milk and back just to get in front of me in line...fretted about whether or not I would be able to get r

I know that rollercoasters are not the typical locations for introspection, but it was for me today. As a kid, I loved thrill rides...anything that involved stomach-churning twists and drops and the wind in my face. As I aged, that thrill slowly faded. Would I fall to my death? My head might explode. Was it possible for my heart to survive the pressure? I succumbed to the what-ifs, leaving me willing to board a rollercoaster only to "save face." Today, I boarded a rollercoaster with a friend who adores thrill rides. She smiled and danced while we waited in line while I smiled and tried desperately to conceal my fear. I pulled my restraint as tight as possible and prayed on the slow ride to the top. During the first drop, I squelched my heaving stomach and spent the ride reminding myself that it was almost over. We walked away, and I was relieved that that part of the day was over...until she suggested we ride again. This time we stepped in line for the front row, a spot even