Last Year in Ireland, Next Year in....Jerusalem?

We got to school to learn. We learn that if we multiply two by five we get 10. If we write 9, we get a point wrong and correct oursleves on the next try. But, how wonderful would it be, to have the confidence to write 1,082729--just once? I mean, how much would it hurt to lose those measily 2 points, right? I don't think i've ever thought that before--I don't think I've ever lost on purpose, just to see. It's an oddly liberating feeling. I mean, isn't life our classroom? Aren't there mistakes to be made on a daily basis?

If i'm to be a writer, an investigator of the human spirit, perhaps I need to start losing more. Or, experamenting with losing. Because maybe then, I could start experamenting with success. I've never been much of a bet-ter. I'm too cheap. I'd rather hoard my $2.56 than gain it twiceover. It's a guarantee. I think i've started taking myself for granted--that I'll always be here for me--the logicalness of it all. So what if I do something irrational. I wonder if all my travels have been tests. HA-you are comfortable with your life and friends what would you do if--you moved to an isolated town in spain, a social town in ireland, what would you DO.

I know now. But part of me was always fighting with the other, pleading for a bit of order, the other fighting for the uncertain, the possibility for other possibilities.
Friends, when hearing my plans, would always laugh, shake their head in confusion. "But you HATE change!." It would seem I'm either more masochistic than previously thought--or refuse to settle for the ordinary.

It's valentines day. I have possibilities on the table. But again, the spain, ireland, fighter pushes her teeth forth. Even those who get burned by the hottest flame survive. Or, they don't. But, there is no debate or waffling about it. Terminado.

I applied for my dream job yesterday--that was scary. I expressed feelings today--tht was scary. Both were real. I'm real. And the opposite of stationary.

Thank you, Ireland. For letting me make mistakes in a safe, controlled setting. And, for once, for once, in last year + a week or so--letting me win once. Now, I know why we lose so often. What's at the end of the fall. Honey and sweetness and new years and new hope and a boy who would walk to the bus station for me.

* I tried to be sentimental, to break into my irish phone and remember that time. My memory forgot the password and clearly knew better. Onwards, Upwards, Let's go go go...ouch!