the plaque across the street.
the memorial to heroes of texas independence.
fiesta texas, sans crowd.
more.
front gates. looks like wally world.
i got a nifty alamo glow in the dark bracelet.
big damn pencil. real. eraser. big.
pancho villa. not the real one.
stephen f. austin. not the real one either.
day one went pretty well… 
the first stop on our trip… brand new gas station.
my dad’s behind the door… those are my mom’s legs.
my brother from afar.
the entrance to oma’s haus in new braunfels. german food!
rack of beers oma’s haus serves. german, of course.
mom, dad, and daniel. i’m the one taking the photo, natch.
tha schnitzel. and potato salad… of the german style. yum.
steins for german beer. it’s a crime to put anything else in them.
a plaster stein welcoming me after i left.
finally! our hotel suite! big bed! 
the living room of previously mentioned suite.
we had wendy’s in the room. watched tv. we were pretty beat after the long drive.
(day two, fiesta texas. there may not be pics, if there’s water rides, i’m not takin tha phone. 2mp camera takes great pics. booyaw.)
j-
i was going to wait to write about my birthday on the actual day, but i decided to get it out of the way. the day will come and go, and i will not be changed in mind, body, soul, spirit, or outlook. i will go out to eat with the parents, i will open some gifts, some mediocre fanfare, and the day will end. the birthday cake will be in front of me, i will blow the now 28 candles on the frosted goodness, and close my eyes and wish for:
we all do it. we all wish for these things that we want. not what we need. instead of:
but it’s just candles. it’s just smoke. extinguished in one blow. where the tradition came from, i don’t know. i could probably google it. but that’s beside the point. we know that the wishes won’t come true from blowing the candles out. it likens to tossing a coin in a well or fountain. or catching the bouquet at a wedding reception. one doesn’t affect the other. it would be just as effective to put an aluminum pirate hat on my head and dance, all with the intent of world peace. i know it sounds pessimistic, not in the tone of the birthday. but… meh. i’m an old man now. i can wallow in pessimism.
jj-
i try to remember her face. i close my eyes, and try to remember her perfume. her scent that i could smell before she came into the room. i try to remember her laugh. her hearty, loud, boastful laugh. she only smiled when i made her laugh. my brain strains and hurts to recall anything that will open my horrible blocks of memory. anything… a word that her thick accent would butcher… her soft small hands that i had kissed for hours as i pleaded with her to take me back. i despise my cursed brain. the back of my eyes throb, my neck is killing my concentration. i can remember all of the things about her. yet her gentle, soft, loving face is nothing but a moment.
it has always been that way. i have memories of my childhood. i can tell you that i used to look up little girl’s dresses through the planks of the floor in the fort at private school. i know the phone number of the first girl i ever loved. my brain still holds onto the memory of the first group of friends that ever told me i was worth anything. i remember being laughed at and teased and beat up because i never belonged. i remember when my drama teacher in 6th grade told me how i had started a tradition for the school that lasts to this day. lost love, found treasures of hope… all in my patched, faulty brain.
the one thing that i need to remember, i cant. i promised myself that if i forgot everything else, i would never lose her face. i lost her love, her trust, and her soul. when she left this world it was real and terrible. but that face. that was all i had. i have to remember her, i need to recall her olive skinned beauty. but it never comes. my mind betrays me again. the frustration is too much, and i cry. she is lost to this world. i never had the chance to reconcile. i never told her how i missed her. i never got to see her again before she was gone. we were together for years. she was almost my wife. i dont have a single photo of her. not even a moment of her in my mind that i can recover.
j. jay-
