All Soil and No Rain

I used to believe that writer’s block is a very convenient excuse for writers who can’t get their lazy asses up to their filthy computer keyboards and type all the crazy ideas spilling the brim of their brains. I’m ashamed to admit that I actually am experiencing exactly writer’s block now. And it’s killing me! I feel like a plant during El Nino. All soil and no rain. Just the heat of the sun kissing my outstretched greens. So before they all turn brown, I better do something about it. But what?
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My mom’s home for a month’s vacation from work. She’s been enslaved by the Arabian Ministry of Health for almost two decades now. She’s the hero in my life. She sent all four of us kids to school, fed us till my two brothers got fatter than I was when I was in high school. And now that my youngest brother’s graduating from college, she can finally breathe a little easier now. I’m kinda expecting she’d be staying good after that but sadly she says she has to be back there. I hope she decides it’s gonna be her last year there. I miss having a full-time mother around.
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I decided I’m going to grow my hair again. I’ve been shaving my head for close to five years straight because I wanted to hide the worsening drift between my hair and my eyebrows. (You'll see a picture of the longest length I've grown it in five years in a picture somewhere in this entry.) But then I thought what the heck. I’ve been examining how I look now that I have some hair growing and I don’t think it’s that bad. So I’m gonna try once again, with my fingers and my toes crossed, to grow my once lush waves of jet black hair. This might be the last time I do this before my hair line rages a nuclear war with my brows.
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Are you catholic? When was the last time you heard Mass? Mine was last Tuesday and it brought an unexplainable emotional tsunami that ravaged the shore of my heart (soul?). I decided to pass by the Greenbelt church because I wanted to pray. I read somewhere that praying has some physiological benefits. I wasn’t feeling too good then so I gave it a try. I was surprised because I still knew how to go about the motions. But what astounded me was how deeply I was moved by the experience. It came to a point when I felt I wanted to cry. I had so many things running in my head that time which caused all of the physical pain that I was feeling. I was very anxious. During communion, I decided I wanted to take it. When I fell in line, I was holding back the tears that wanted to fly off my eyes. And I was so close to crying when I went back to my seat and knelt to give a prayer of thanks. I was speechless in front of the Lord. But my heart was doing the talking. The experience was very liberating. I knew it was a turning point in my relationship with God. A turning point to where? That I still have to decide.