Why the ending matters

Can I just say I'm so mad at Dawson and Joey...  ** there may be spoilers in here for the .03% of you who've never watched the entirety of Dawson's Creek and still somehow care about not reading spoilers from a show that's been over for like 6 years.... .03% is too large a number, isn't it?**

I know, how sad am I? I'm talking about a couple of TV show characters like they are actual people. The writers do such a good job of making me care about these two kids, but then the forever "will they, won't they" tension just drives me up a wall. And both of them act like such complete morons. If you say you are in love with a girl and she says she is in love with you, you call her. You talk to her, you don't start dating other people. If you are so in love with a boy that you are willing to buy a plane ticket to Paris just to catch him before he leaves the airport in the most grand of all movie-style gestures and you are willing to put it all on the line by saying that you love him and then he says that he loves you back, you don't just not call him all summer long. Then if he royally screws up (as you know he is going to, because you've known him since he was three and when has he ever not screwed things up except for the time that you screwed things up?) You don't throw the baby out with the bath water. You remember that time you screwed everything up, and you give the guy a break/second chance/400th chance cause if you really believe you two are soul mates then maybe you should believe him when he says that he knows he screwed up and he's trying to fix it.

 Maybe I should have stopped the first time they kissed. Maybe I should have stopped when Joey said, "It's just lipstick, Dawson." Maybe in these tv relationships it's better just to call things off  as soon as you get the ending you want, because sooner or later (and on Dawson's Creek it's always sooner) your ending is going to get ruined. I mean who keeps watching something that just works out and keeps working out? There's no story in happily ever after. That's why complete lifetimes can be summed up in three words.

Happily ever after.

Sometimes I think maybe I *would* watch a show where people are happily married/in relationships and were just exceedingly funny. I mean I like my own life/friends and that's pretty well how it works with them.

Anyway, none of that dissection really matters, and it doesn't really matter that I'm 6 years too late to the party or that if I really thought this through I'd realize that very few people reading this have been able to stick with me through this whole diatribe. Cause you know what?  I'm ticked off at two tv show characters. Still. Both of them. Dawson is a stupid jerk and Joey is a moody drama queen.

I watched an anime movie once with Nathan that we both mocked mercilessly, in part because the theme song was John Denver's, "Country Road." and in part because the translation from Japanese to English was really bad and once the girl walking down the road started yelling, "stupidjerk,stupidjerk,stupidjerk" and neither of us was sure what the "stupid jerk" had done to be labeled as such. So whenever anyone would make us mad from then on, the other person would say, "stupidjerk,stupidjerk,stupidjerk" and it would make the person who was mad smile. And I realized that, no one would get what I was referring to when I called Dawson (who was in fact a stupid jerk) a stupid jerk. And it kinda broke my heart a little bit.

I saw a gray Jeep Cherokee in my parking lot yesterday evening, and my heart seized in my chest for just a second. For just one short short moment in time I thought he was home. And I was *so* happy to see that Jeep.... and then I was so mad at that Jeep. That brief moment of hope can be so devastating.

But you see this is why I need Dawson and Joey to just freaking get it right for once... Cause if I end this, the last season of Dawson's Creek, with Dawson and Joey not finally getting it right, I'm going to be so upset. If they end up just saying goodbye in some terrible cheesy montage of all the Dawson and Joey moments and then the viewer is left believing that they just send each other Christmas cards and courtesy phone calls upon engagement and first children. If Dawson and Joey, who have their lives scripted can't get a little piece of happily ever after. If after everything they've gone through they don't get the happiness that we all know they can only find in each other and have to settle for... not-quite-Joey and not-quite-Dawson. Well then, what chance to the rest of us poor slobs have? I want to believe in happily ever after. I want to believe that after all the twists and turns and ups and downs and loop-de-loops happily ever after still exists... and that mine is out there, waiting for me down the road a short piece. But if Dawson and Joey can't make it work... how the heck can I? I mean, honestly my life has been just as drama filled, if not more than Dawson's or Joey's... so if they can't pull it out and turn it around... just doesn't make me feel so good about my chances... after all, I don't have 40 million fans telling the writers that they have to make it work out in the end.

It's just that happily ever afters keep me going. They are the fuel of that keep me out of angsty morose-land. They give me hope, which, not gonna lie, I still need- in spades.

Do you remember the "Everything I need to know" poster phase? There were "everything I need to know about life I learned from..." posters everywhere and the things they learned from ranged from kindergarten (maybe the first poster?) to Star Trek, to "my girlfriends."

I feel like that's what this post is shaping up to be.



Everything I Need to Know About Life I Learned from Dawson's Creek.



Good gravy, how sad would that be if it were true. No wonder the aliens want to destroy us, and only Hoolan can see our potential.

Seriously, if you've never read the "My Teacher is an Alien" series by Bruce Coville, you need to. Go to your local library. Now. Before we stop being friends.

I looove Halloween.

Short post cause I'm tired-er than I have a right to be.

I kinda hate that I have to take pictures of myself in the mirror. I feel so cliché.

This one looks pretty good, though you can't see the whole costume.

You can see my little bird friend... who, appropriately, is a cardinal.

See, I totally know what's going on in my fine state!

I also helped a gypsy and a hipster devil come to be.

I love Halloween.

Wider than a mile

So, It was a good day.

I got up late and got some lunch, then went to work on my One Act. Yes that's right, I finally decided it's a One-Act. I need the lighting and actions too much for it to be Reader's Theatre. So I got to work and made good progress for 3 hours, until I hit a block. So I went and got a GWCPM (Grande White Chocolate Peppermint Mocha in case you don't read my blog much and aren't familiar with my obsession.) Then I came back and settled in for another 2 hours until a friend called in need of help.

It was my favorite kind of need for help. The kind that involves me going to the mall to help with costumes.

It was both fun and a good work out. Cause we only had 90 minutes... and btw we finished with 40 to spare. I am a go-go speed walker!

Then I decided since I was already out that I should look into this whole size-smaller jeans thing. So I went to Target where I got my current favorite pair of jeans, picked out a whole mess of jeans and went to the dressing room. I picked up the first pair and thought, "Who am I kidding? These aren't gonna fit me!" Tried anyway, and... they fit perfectly. Yesssssss!

They all fit, even the skinny leg jeans, though my calves felt like they were hulking out in those.

So now I own a pair of jeans exactly like the pair of jeans that are my favorites... only they are a size smaller than my favorites. Looks like there is a new favorite in town!

And then I bought some fingerless gloves that have a flap that makes them into mittens. Which makes them a portmanteau word-- Glittens? Miloves? They were way too expensive but I justified it to myself by putting back something else I was going to buy.

And then I got in my car and checked my phone and read an e-mail I'd just recieved:

"I love you Renee

Kadin Abigail Houf I’m 6"

She's 6 and I'm a melted pile of aunt-goo. Seriously, I love that kiddo so much!

And then I came home and finished my One Act. Or at least I think it's finished... and it was only an hour and 10 minutes and 34 seconds late.

I'm never quite sure... and it scares me so much to turn in something so different from my classmates... I'm not trying to zig when everyone else zags... but feels like I'm doing it anyway. So everyone else turned in these delightful little shows about fairy tales and princesses and some of them are hilarious. And I wrote a drama about a girl dealing with the death of her brother. ZAG! ZIG! WIGGITY WHACK!

I'm just sure that at some point they are going to all find out that I'm not nearly as good as they thought... that it was all just a fluke and I'm actually trite and cliche and predictable. And then the fall will be that much worse, because they thought I was good, before. And it's hard too, cause when you write something it's just so-- personal. You know? It's a part of me. A part of me that I'm saying, "Here, I think this is worthy. Judge it.  Rip it to shreds if you have to." *closes eyes with a wince and then peeks with one eye*

And if they love it... well then they love *you.*

But if they hate it... well, then they hate *you.*

And if you recall, I even want the Taliban to like me.

At least Kadin loves me.

P.S. Because of an episode of Hart of Dixie (don't judge!) I became obsessed with "Moon River" today. Here's my favorite girl version:

Hair, Halloween, and Boris

So I did a trial run of my hair this evening.

Really what happened is yesterday I had cute hair. It looked like this:

Well, the first picture, anyway. Then after the hair dries it's supposed to look like second picture. Mine kinda did--- only WAY poofier...So when I got home and had no plans... I decided to do what I normally do when I am by myself and bored. I primped.

*sidenote- no I don't have a *clue* why I primp... gives a whole new level of sad to "all dressed up and nowhere to go," doesn't it? But it's what I do, nonetheless. *sidenote ended*

So anyway, I decided if I was gonna primp I should at least use my primping wisely. So I did a trial run of my hair for Snow White. I was a bit concerned that my hair was too long to accurately portray Miss White's. I'm happy to report that I was so wrong!

Check it, yo.

Also I put the rest of my costume together except for my apple or little friend, and the results are kinda awesome... can a get a ruling on whether or not a person can wear their Halloween costume all Halloween weekend long? Not gonna lie-- actually considering it. It's really cute and comfortable and obvious as to what it is without being over the top. Juuuuuust right.

Modern Snow White blows Trampy Snow White out of the water. Trust me on that one.

I've also helped/given advice to 4 other people about costumes this week-- and I think 3 of them might even listen to me :)

Work was rough today. The computer there is really old and every once in a while it hits this patch of slowness... When I got back from class the computer was in that slow place, and it was so frustrating. Just switching to a different window on the task bar caused it to go to a blank white screen and think for a minute. It took me literally all afternoon to do something that should have taken 30 minutes. I was so grumpy when I left work. There were things that needed to get done, but they couldn't because I just ran out of time and patience. I should get computer harassment pay on days like today.

OK I'm gonna go to sleep... I have to like write a one act tomorrow.... or close to it. Luckily I work best under pressure.... Right, guys?

Guys?

Guys?

It's very rude to just wander off when someone is talking to you, you know.

Fine, fine.. I still love you.... Boris Yeltsin.

PS I hate the phrase "sawing logs" when referring to snoring.  It makes it sound disgusting somehow... I mean snoring is really just loud, normally... but I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who thinks this.... then again, I'm the only person who thinks a lot of things.

Prayer, luck, and small town charm

I love my thermal shirts-- I just want to wear them all the time.  They keep me so warm!

Wow. That was exceedingly eloquent, eh? Next thing you know I'm gonna be writing poetry about thermal shirts.

I gave myself french tips last night... Harder than it looks, my friends. But my nails are super yellow, so french tips are the only way for them to look "natural." Then I put on iridescent sparkles. Cause, well, have you met me? Didn't I just say iridescent?

I've discovered within myself a pretty serious sarcastic deadpan. If I think that someone is saying something ridiculous/bragging-but-phrasing-it-like-a-complaint, and I decide to call them out on it... I *really* call them out on it.

Totally made up example:
Other person: "Gosh, I'm having such a hard time trying to figure out what investments I should make for my 401K." (Can you even choose 401k investments? Heck if I know!)

Me: (staring at them) Man, Life's rough.

Some people find this amusing... I find the fact that other people find it amusing, amusing. (I structured that last sentence just so I could say amusing 2 times in quick succession. Which was also, amusing.)

Life experiences are *so* different. I mean... that's kinda a duh statement, but every so often I forget... and then someone tells a story of their past and I'm just flabbergasted that anyone's parents were like that. That anyone's parents would choose such a vastly different way of raising their children than mine did. (Not even bad choices, per say, just very different.) And then I wonder what I would have been like if I'd had a different upbringing.

Who would I be today if my parents weren't my parents?

It's kinda a disturbing thought. Cause there are things within myself that I recognize as unhealthy desires. And I've been taught how to suppress them... I don't think that's a bad thing- though perhaps some people might. But if I'd not been taught to suppress those things? If I'd had any inkling that I could get  away with living how I wanted when I was was a teenager, full of raging hormones?

I guess I've just turned around for a moment and looked back at the twisting path I took through the landmine ridden field of adolescence and wondered how I escaped relatively unscathed.

I'm gonna say it was a mixture of prayer, luck, and small town charm.

In other news, I'm really glad I have good hair genes. Thanks Mom and Dad. You didn't screw me up too terribly and I have good hair genes, to boot. I think that's more than any girl really has a right to ask for.

P.S. Oh my goodness. Gray pj pants with a gray and white striped thermal shirt make for the most adorable sleepy-time outfit. I look like an escaped denizen of Winkin'Blinkin'andNod-ville. Unexpected  thing I miss #9,000: Someone to appreciate it when I look really good/cute as I'm going to bed.

Do you want to be a writer?

(Read title)

I was asked that today.

And I answered, "I think so?"

Then I turned the question around, "Do *you* want to be a writer?"

And with quiet sincerity was answered, "Yes... I would like that very much."

And I said that I only THOUGHT so?!? What kind of mamby-pamby answer is that??? You want to know the real answer?

Yes. I want to be a writer.

But I'm scared to say that. Because someone is always better. Because I'm afraid of setting a goal that I can't attain and then being unsatisfied with my life from then on. Because this is all new to me. I've always been good at writing. I've always enjoyed writing... but in high school it was my friend Andrea who was going to be the author. And then in college everyone was good at writing... and then Nathan was the one with all the good ideas...

And then one day someone told me I should be a writer, because of some random comment I made on facebook... and I was totally surprised and flattered. Then Nathan died. And then... it just had to get out. I had to have someone to talk to. I had so much to say and no one to tell it to... So I told it to my diary-- you know, the one that talks back to me... And then a lot of people started telling me that I am a good writer... and then I took a class where more people told me that I'm a good writer... but there is still this part of me that holds all that at an arms length. That still thinks that I'm just ok. That isn't really sure I have what it takes. Cause I've never been the writer of the group. I've been the "mom," I've been the smart kid, I've been the singer, I've been the funny one, I've been the artist and the actor and the teacher, I've been the glue... but the writer? I don't think that Nathan would have guessed that to be my chosen profession. How can I be a person that the most important person in my life didn't know? How do you let go enough to change that much?

Because I do. I want to be a writer. If I could choose my ideal profession, it would be author. It fits my life, my desire to make a difference to someone... my sleep schedule. ;) But that's an ambition- It's a serious ambition that a lot of people want and few attain and it scares the bejeepers out of me to say that it's something I want.

Seems like almost every person in the class has an entire YA novel written. Just sitting around waiting to be polished and published. I don't. I'm not even totally sold on my idea and I'm a little afraid to write it. How did they write them without deadlines?? How did they write entire books out of nothing??

Really what it comes down to is that I said "I think so" today because it's safer not to commit. I'm afraid to write a book because then there are no more excuses.

All in all, I'd prefer to change my answer, though. I'd like to change it to:

"Yes... I'd like that very much."

A fate most cruel

You know what more people need to know?? Just how darn attractive an expansive vocabulary is. Especially when subtly slipped into conversation, rather than used as a blunt weapon over the head, because you fancy yourself a "wordsmith."

I might, maybe, sometimes, have a tendency to caricature-ize to people... "wordsmith" among them.. But come on! You know who I'm talking about! The person who only uses 20 dollar words because he/she thinks it makes them interesting, when really it just makes them tedious. You know someone like this! (crosses fingers, closes eyes and whispers, "Please don't say me, please don't say me.")

TOPIC CHANGE!

You know what's really strange??

I still don't know what it's like to lose a friend. I mean yes, obviously Nathan was my friend.... but he was so much more than that, that it doesn't count... and now I'm about to sit down and *crank* out a One-Act-- or Reader's Theatre Script (tbd) and I don't really know what it's like to lose a friend... Weird. I imagine I can find a way to do it... but it's a strange thing to realize you don't know what moderation is when it comes to grief... and here I thought I knew everything. :)

It is a fate most cruel that I'm most inspired at 1:00 in the morning... on a day that I only got a few hours of sleep in, when I have a long day tomorrow, and no time in which to nap. Seriously, brain? You couldn't have gotten this inspired at 9:00 tonight?

I just accidentally signed an e-mail to my friends "Nae." I'm talking about college friends who have never called me "Nae" in the entire time we've known each other. (One of them was Kara and even she's never called me Nae.) There is probably some deep meaning to this regression, but right now all I can think is- "I am so weird!"

I currently have a web browser open with 18 tabs... God bless internet research.

and Kurt.

God Bless, Kurt!

One step back

I wrote something tonight, finally... but it wasn't something I can use for class... and it might make you cry, so don't read in front of your 8th period class. :)



A song started playing.

It’s one of those songs that you listen to and suddenly begin to create your own crappy you-tube montage in your head. All the moments in your life that lead up to this. You replay in slow motion the time you sat up until late in the morning discovering how much you had in common with this adorable boy you’d just met. And the night outside on the deck, laughing as the fireflies were twinkling around you. You replay when he put his hand on your cheek and you suddenly wished that time would slow down.  And how he manipulated you into kissing him first. How you broke up and then got back together, but you made him kiss you first, this time. You replay the moment you said goodnight and kissed in the rain, just because neither of you had ever done that… and you replay the moment when he told you about this wonderful dream he had… to be sitting in a window seat, cuddled in a blanket, looking out a snowstorm with his wife, and how you secretly made that your new dream.

Then you replay the expression on his face when he asked you to marry him, and then when you walked down the aisle, and the joy on his face the first time you called him your husband. And all those silly moments when he would come up behind you in the kitchen and kiss your neck and just be in the way because he wanted to be near you and you shooed him away because you had things on the stove. (Why did I do that? Who cares about a little burned supper?) You replay the moments when you were just sitting around watching tv… and then you weren’t watching tv anymore.

Then you replay the moment when the dr told you it was cancer, and he comforted you. And the moment they told you that he would need a bone marrow transplant and all the trips to the hospital in the freezing cold and the night that you watched an episode of Star Trek cuddled up on his hospital bed and could touch him without hurting him for the first time in months. You replay the night that they moved two beds together in the hospital room so that you could sleep next to the man who kissed you in the rain, once.  You replay the days when he was getting better and then you replay the days when he started getting worse. You replay the nights when you could barely sleep because he was hurting so much. You replay staying up all night sitting on the floor next to the bed just to hold his hand cause that’s all you could do. You replay when he was so drugged out that he thought he should get some free slippers, damn it. And then you replay the last conversation you ever had where he told you he loved you forever and that he trusted you.

And then the last days where all you could do was watch those numbers drop.. and the last moment where for some reason you made sure you looked at the time because you knew your life was changing forever and you needed to know it was 8:30 in the morning.

And then you end the you-tube montage with a picture of you, cuddled in a blanket on a window bench, looking out at a snowstorm, wishing he could have had that moment he’d imagined.. You just thought you had time.

The damn song was shorter than it should have been.

I haven't given up on this new life that I'm heading towards... but it's still really hard to let go of the life I didn't get to have. 

I struggle sometimes... I struggle with blessing people. There is this terrible selfish part of me that  doesn't want to bless anyone.  Because don't you understand what my life is like? Don't you understand what I've gone through, God? Why do I have to bless someone else? Today I chose to bless someone because I thought God wanted me to. But a "cheerful giver" I was not. Afterwards I sat down and cried. 

I don't understand why it had to be Nathan. Other people are miraculously healed... why couldn't he have been? It's not like he wouldn't have given all the glory to God... He could have been such a powerful witness... He already was and he wasn't even better. I just... I just miss him, I miss his annoying hyperbole and the way he talked with his hands and a million other tiny little things.

I wrote a second ago that I don't know who I am anymore or what I want... but after thinking about it for a second, I realized it's not true. I mean I don't really recognize the girl I am anymore, but I still know... somewhere deep down, who I am... and I still know what I want... I just feel bad for wanting it.  Because what I want hasn't changed through any of this. My blogspot is called "minus ambition" because I've never had big dreams... only small and simple ones- the only things in my life I've ever been fully committed to wanting is to be someone's partner... to be a companion and a support and a helpmeet... to raise beautiful children together.... to see my grandchildren and great grandchildren...  to live out my happiness in the company of someone who loves me.  And I still want all of that.

And I think that's why I struggle with blessing others, right now... because I feel like I was blessed and then it was taken away from me. Because while I fully admit I've been blessed- I've also been hurt. I've been hurt so much and so deeply and now I'm afraid that there isn't a man in this world who is brave enough to take on a girl who is only available because her husband died. I'm afraid that the only thing I'm going to get out of this life is just knowing exactly what I don't have.

I don't want to bless anyone else because I'm afraid that this is all I get... a sappy you-tube montage that only exists in my head.

It's hard. It's so hard to keep your heart soft.

Two steps forward...

Procrastination Station

Dag, yo.

I don't know why but it's been so hard for me to write lately... I sit down and I just keep putting it off.. seems like the only time I want to write or have inspiration is when I can't.

Like right now. I *need* to be trying to figure out my Reader's Theatre script. So I'm blogging because I told myself I couldn't get up until I at least wrote something...

Plots are hard.

I can dialogue with two people in my head for hours... but plots? Things have to happen?!? Dang it!

Part of the problem is that in some of my favorite one acts... the "plot" is really rather subtle. Because you don't have time to give the characters much to do if you are going to develop them at all. And if you don't develop them then you've got a melodrama and I don't really like melodramas.

That and I always want to be completely original... but there are really only like 5 story plots in the entirety of the world... it's just how you twist them... and figuring out how to twist something.. it's a lot harder than it looks... Sometimes I worry that I've read way too much, because it feels like every idea I have is based on another one. But that's what they are always telling you to do if you want to write. Read read read.

The other day in class someone said they loved a book. And that they read it so quickly that they finished it in "two marathon sessions." This book had less than 200 pages.... I knew I wasn't that into it because it took me 2 sessions to finish it (instead of reading it all in one go.) Perspective is WEEEEIRD.

Seriously... It's even hard for me to focus on this and all I really need to do for blogging is just type what is going on in my head.... Thank you, by the way, for thinking that the thoughts that run through my head are interesting enough to read.

Pinterest makes me want to bake.

Costume is almost finished-- Just need to add some red to the sleeves, make my headband, and find a cute little friend.... or an apple.

Oh and I did go back to the mall to buy more thermal shirts with thumb holes. I like em!

... Plus I like that I can buy shirts in the Jrs section again, too.

I might need to go buy some smaller sized jeans, too. Sah-weet!

Well it's 10:15, and I've not written a lick on my class work... I think it's time to finish that disc of HIMYM... Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived at Procrastination Station. Please wait until the train comes to a complete stop and then proceed to the exits in an orderly fashion... you know... when you feel like it... eventually....

Crazy Stupid

First I think: I'm kinda hungry!

Then I think: Oh yeah, duh. It's cause it's 2 in the morning and supper was at like 6:30.

Pondering the ramen, but probably won't-- Sleep is just as good- and not fried.

Seriously, did you know that ramen noodles are fried? Thanks for ruining that one for me, "Unwrapped."

I should go to the grocery store so that when I want some cereal, I have milk that is still good.

I saw "Crazy Stupid Love" tonight and was pleasantly surprised. And also confused by the pair of guys who came in, sat down together and watched this rom-com by themselves.. and then made a big deal of standing up and turning around and saying in loud voices, "Isn't Ryan Gosling gay?" in a  "I'm-not-gay-don't-think-I'm-gay-cause-I'm-so-not-gay!" kind of way.

So confusing.

Also, I have thermal shirt with thumb holes. I love it and am seriously considering a return trip to the mall just to buy more of them.

Just to be clear- from yesterday's post- I like hanging out girls, too... I like giggling and talking about boys and make-up and hair and nail polish and coming up with secret codes and all that girly stuff... I just naturally gravitate to boys more and find them easier to befriend.... and as my mom pointed out whenever the "original Miller 6-pack" would hang out together it was always me and my 2 guy cousins on one team/side/group and my sister and the other 2 girl cousins in the other... and now that I think about it, to this day I have a tendency to hang out with my guy cousins more than my girl cousins.

I sound like a tom-boy, but I'm terrible at sports and I really like sparkles and make-up and girly things...

What a strange little hybrid I am. No wonder my subconscious thinks I'm both male and female.

I like boys.

The problem with getting a new book from the library is that I want to be reading the book, not writing on my blog... so I make very short blog posts.

Tonight I was at a friend's birthday party. There was a fire pit outside and some people were hanging out inside. At one point all the girls migrated inside and all of the boys were outside-- except for me, who remained by the firepit. Then a girl came outside and said to me, "In case you didn't notice, all the females are inside."

I just looked up at her and said, "I know. I like boys."

Some of the boys chuckled, and the girl looked really confused, and said, "Oh, ok."

But seriously. I can hang out with girls all the time. It's never weird or awkward for me and a girl to go grab dinner or lunch together... but I can't do that with a guy. I'm starved for the company of men. I used to spend pretty much all my free time with a dude and now... well, it's just not the way it is anymore. And especially mellow, hanging out around a fire pit, sometimes talking, sometimes just watching the flames, sometimes playing a videogame boys. It's like guys are an endangered species in my life... especially ones at lesuire-- I don't see a lot of relaxed dudes anymore, so I'm darn sure going to take the opportunity to be around them when I can get it.

I've never been super clingy, but when I need comfort it's normally a guy I run to first... has been ever since I was little. My dad is the "strong silent" type but I would always go hang on his arm when I wasn't feeling good. And now... well maybe it has something to do with what I lost, but more than ever I just really like guys. Calm, low key, they can take care of themselves men.

It's probably not very PC of me, but in my brain, guys take care of girls. It's like the inevitable truth of life. So if I'm with a whole passel of men I don't feel like I have to be so strong or tough or self-sufficent. I can let them carry the tv to the car... I can let them talk to the waitress... I can let them eat cookies.

It's like for a small moment in time my life isn't so broken.

Short post

I have things I need to get done this weekend. So, most likely I will barely get anything done. But I'll have a mighty fine time not doing it. Hopefully Saturday will turn into something productive, though. A girl can dream, right?

Tomorrow is errand running... and baking a bit.. and costume searching... and party-going and sleeping... I plan on sleeping a good deal in the morning.

There may not even be a morning when I'm through with it. 

Ohhhhhh yeah. I'm dangerous to mornings.

God will provide. That's my focus this week. God will provide what I need. He's got the power to do so. Not what I want, but what I need.... God can provide and He will. 

He obviously doesn't think I need a maid.

I beg to differ.

Tomorrow with Fireflies

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow night I will go to bed earlier and wake up later. Tomorrow night I will catch up on the sleep I've been shorting myself this week. Tomorrow the sun will come out and maybe my metabolism will kick in and my hands will start being their normal warm nature rather than this weird thing where they are cold all the time.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow.

A friend of mine shared this video on facebook the other day and I've been listening to it ever since. I really like it. Really really really. I kinda wish this song was about me, but alas, it isn't.

There is something about fireflies, don't you think? Or Lightning Bugs, if you will, but I like the way fireflies sounds more. I think they are the magic of the bug world. 

Seriously... they. light. up. That's really flipping cool. Just take a moment and think about how amazing that is. Magic is all around us... sometimes we just forget that it's magic.

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.” -Roald Dahl

I believe in magic.

I'm actually surprisingly sleepy, but I have miles to go before I sleep. Those miles are figurative, not literal... I'm not blogging whilst driving or anything.

It's been a good week, and it's only Wednesday. Let's keep this up, Week.

Go, go tomorrow!

Coffee has ruined hot chocolate for me

It's true

I will never again be able to experience hot chocolate and be satisfied. I will always and forever want it to have some coffee in it.

In other news the peppermint Hot Chocolate at Mc Donalds should be delicious to any one who doesn't love coffee as much or more than me.

When is Mc Donalds going to have the custard pies again? I love those pies. I always think it's the pumpkin pies that I love, it's not. The pumpkin ones are gross to me... it's the custard ones... with their rainbow sprinkles.

Also if you live in Springfield, hie thee to the Aviary and have the "Is it Fall?" dessert crepe. They say that it's dusted with magic on the menu and they are NOT lying.

Why don't more of my friends want to go to the Aviary every day??

I love being a part of a group of people who love something to the point of obsession.

For instance... well... Jesus.

But ALSO

Macs

Priuses (Or as I like to call them, Pree-eye)

Starbucks

and as I've recently discovered: Chik-Fil-A

Ohhh but that's not the only song--- oh no! There is  another one!

I love it.

It was a great day. I smelled like Christmas, I baked weird cookies, I went to Small Group, I got to see Kara AND get an e-mail from her, I spoke to another friend online, and I remembered something... God can provide... and He will... one way or another.

Like a tween loves Beiber

I think it might be time to break out the fall slipper socks. They are these lovely thick wool socks that my mother in law gave me once upon a time... I think possibly before she was my mother in law. They are rainbow specked with a black base and they keep my feet warm but not sweaty like slippers do. I can't handle slippers because of the sweaty feet factor. :s Eww.

Three things in my life were constant when it came to my mom while I was growing up: Magnets, Iced Tea, and Slippers.

I barely own any magnets, I like tea but almost never make it... in fact I melted my tea pitcher.

See? It now has two pour spouts and the lid doesn't fit on it... Turns out they actually mean it when they say don't put it in the dishwasher. Who knew?!?

And I actively dislike slippers. But I've never liked having things on my feet... my feet get really hot sometimes. Have I told you about me and footie pajamas? Back when I was an adorable tyke my mom had to cut the feet off my footie pajamas, because if she didn't I would unzip them and take my legs out of them during the night. So in the morning I'd be walking around with just the arms in my pjs... like I had a long sleeved, foot-ied cape. Suddenly this sounds like a story in my Early reader... I should probably add a chapter.

PS I stepped on a needle and poked a hole in my big toe when looking for my camera to take a picture of my melted tea pitcher. I hope you appreciate the lengths I go to for you. I knew I lost a needle yesterday. Oh well, at least I stepped on it and not a guest of my house.

Guest of my house. Who talks like that?

me.

You know what I would really like to find, but have pretty much given up on? A white sweater with little tiny rainbow flecks. Basically a funfetti sweater, like the one the girl is wearing here:

Also pictured: Actual funfetti.

I know- not the greatest of pictures: Here's another that I found:

Also pictured: Ginormo belt and tree stump

It's a pretty 70's thing I think, but come on-- It's so me!

It's also very hard to google... which means it's hard to find in real life, too. But I love it. I love it like a tween loves Beiber.

And that's saying something.

I don't really know what this one is about

I bought a t-shirt just now. It's a labyrinth art noveau t-shirt, and I think it's kinda awesome.

 RIGHT!?!

You have no idea how much I wish I wasn't buying it for myself.... I miss gifts. Nathan probably would have just told me to go a head and get it... but that would have made it feel like a gift. As it is, it feels like a normal... if slightly irresistible purchase.

But who would buy it for me if I don't buy it for myself? Especially when it's only available for 24 hours. Oh yes, the people at TeeFury are crafty devils and only offer a shirt for a 24 hour period.

Finished my skirt tonight. I think it looks pretty good. Now I just have to figure out what I want to do with the rest of me to create this updated Snow White... It's kinda weird that I told you what I was being for Halloween. Normally it's a trade secret... Too much theatre in me to want to give it away. Not this time, apparently.

I think I just wanted someone to be excited about it with.

Survey: If Snow White had painted nails- What color would they be? The rainbow is your oyster.

Ach I need to go -- write, read, do stuff for class. Too much time wasted watching Netflix and sewing this weekend.... or not wasted, but spent.

But IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII will always love you. Oh, IIIII will always love you.

Goin' crazy, wanna come?

We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog. You know, the non-mopey one.

Sometimes it's really hard not to settle... to not encourage "good enough" when you feel this lonely. Sometimes I just think I'm slowly going crazy. I sure don't feel like I know who I am, most of the time. Not sure how I expect a guy to be interested in this... in me... in my baggage.

Anyway, had the bridesmaid fitting today... so fast! It was amazing. It took less than 30 minutes and the first dress I tried on was great. AND it was on sale! I've made myself a deal that if I lose more weight I'll pay for my dress to be altered. Seems totally reasonable to me.

So the other night Melissa was showing us this thing they learned at a conference they went to... You push on someone's arm and depending on the resistance you can tell if they are lying. Now I'm sure it doesn't work with everyone... always a way to cheat the system and all that... but it works on a lot of people... she uses a standard "I am male" "I am female" pair of statements and basically the body/subconcious reacts whether or not it's an obvious lie. So she tested me... and my body reacted exactly the same (as though I was telling the truth) to both statements. So we tried again... same response. So we thought I was just a fluke person... and then she had me say "I like to write" and "I hate writing" And on that question I was obviously lying when I said that I hate writing. So we tried the male/female question again... and again I was telling "the truth" both times.

In other words, my subconscious thinks I'm a man and a woman. Great, subconscious. Just great. Remember when I said I sometimes think I'm slowly going crazy? Exhibit 196.

In other news, the costume is coming along swimmingly. Skirt is almost done, and though it doesn't technically even mildly resemble the skirt I started out to make, I think it's better. There are no mistakes, just happy accidents.

And happy trees. Lots of happy little trees with happy little friends... and burnt sienna for a highlight and a little touch of ocher and cadmium red, Just a touch. There... and there. And I think one more happy little tree lives right over here in this shadow. Yeah, right there.

This is Bob Ross, Signing off.

The emo-est of blogs

It's just so darn easy to fall back into bad sleeping patterns. Here I am... 3:26 AM. All this week I was in bed by 1... ok, it might have been 1:30, one night. But I was doing really well... and then today I got sleepy and took a nap, because I didn't have anything else to do and then...  it was 3 hours later and here I am, talking to you at 3:30 again.

*sigh*

3:30, why you gotta be so lonely?

Ok honestly it's been the whole day after about 3:30 this afternoon.

I'm struggling.

I want so badly not to care that it's possible for me to not see anyone for days. That everyone's lives seem to be moving forward and mine... mine is moving backwards. Only I'm older than everyone who is coming at it for the first time. :s Great. Because you know, youth really prizes older girls.

I was *so* happy.

and I'm really trying to be happy for other people now, but sometimes it's just really hard... Cause I want to be happy with people...  but I'm not happy. I know what happy felt like, and this isn't it.

Even during his cancer.. it was hard.. it was *so* hard. But I was happy. I just knew it was something we would get through, and be better for and stronger because of, on the other side... I didn't ever think that I'd be alone... again. And then I had to let him go because he was hurting so much.... but now I have to deal with this.

And it hurts. It hurts on special days and some days it just hurts out of nowhere and so badly... And yeah, there is a lot of it. There are a lot of days and there is a lot of pain.

Today, I found out that my uncle's brother-in-law passed away. This family isn't related to me and I've barely ever heard of them but I feel so sad for them and so jealous at the same time. I don't know how long they were married but they have a couple of  at least teenage children. To have had children with the man I loved... It sounds so simple, doesn't it? Yeah, I sound like a pretty terrible person... jealous of a woman who has just gone through what was the worst experience of my life... And not appreciative of what I have, either... Someone out there is saying, "If I could have just had 3 and a half years of marriage to the man I loved." It's just never enough, is it? Never enough time with the people who you think you can't live without.... Though honestly... this doesn't feel a whole lot like living... feels like treading water.

I was watching a tv show on DVD today and a main character's dad died. He died in January. It was snowing at the funeral. And I shed a few tears along with the cast and then I started the next show... and they talk about it in the next show, but it's a secondary line, and then by the next episode they talk about it and learn some life lessons and things are pretty well wrapped up.

Everyone has found closure and moved on.

But I'm not living in a sitcom... I wish I was, cause heaven's knows a laugh track would be a good confidence booster. I have closure. I even have the beginning of healing, but my life feels stuck in the same place it was for the first 21 years of my life and I don't want to be back here again. I'm so frustrated... and lonely.... and frustrated with being lonely, cause that's not gonna fix a darn thing. But funny enough, emotions defy logic. They aren't neat and clean and perfect. They are messy and ridiculous and annoying, and I'd hate emotions but that would just be too darn ironic.

I just want this to be fixed. I want someone to think I'm amazing. I want someone to be absolutely captivated by me. Someone who can see that I'm totally worth dealing with my emotions and messiness and non-perfection. Some one who adores me and who I can adore right back. I want someone who is my constant- my back up plan when there are no other plans. I just want someone to come home to at night and to complain because I made the living room a complete wreck with my Halloween costume sewing... I want someone to make a Halloween costume for.

I want someone to sing me this song.

But instead I'll go sleep... and don't worry. I'll feel better in the morning.

Sometimes I wonder if the late hour makes me sadder- or just more honest about how hard things are.

Generic blog title # 93

Did I tell you that I filed? As in: for the first time in over a year I no longer have huge stack of papers that need to be filed away? And I got back everything from Nathan's aunt to do with insurance and hospitalization, because we think (knock on wood) that everything is actually taken care of there. And I purchased fabric today for my Snow White outfit... well for the skirt part at least... Still trying to figure out exactly how I want to modernize/ reinvent the top. And I stapled and folded a whole mess of directories, and tomorrow I'm going to paint over at Katiejon's. This weekend is a "get stuff done" weekend.

But that doesn't mean it can't also be a "let's have fun" weekend. In fact we should. You let me know what you want to do and we'll have fun.. My evenings are especially free... I mean I will find things to fill them... like writing for my class... but if you wanna do something text me, call me, send up a really obvious smoke signal...

But before that happens, I need to sleep... I think my body is trying to fight off some sort of bug. I don't actually have any obvious symptoms but I didn't feel well this morning and I was sooo tired last night.... I need to go pop some vitamin C pills or something.

You know what's frustrating? It feels like I'm always forgetting about something at work. Like no matter how many things I do or work on or finish or address in a week there is one thing that falls off the plate somewhere. So frustrating. Especially when I feel like I used to have a handle on everything... I wonder if I have a tendency to get overwhelmed more easily now and it's a defense mechanism.

I may have discovered a new favorite band today... I'm getting their CD from the library to find out.

She tells stories like a painter, yeah
With colorful words that I don't always understand
But it always sounds like somewhere better than here
Yeah, everywhere is better with her

She has a subtle way
Of making you forget your darkness
Behind some clever conversation
No finer heart, could ever beat for you

I'd like to believe this song was written about me... and one of the members of this band is secretly in love with me.

I just have one question for you. Where are all the pretty boys? A friend of mine said yesterday: "It's raining men!" 

and I said, "No, no, it's not."

Oh I have a story for you about the human lie detector test... but I think it will have to wait until tomorrow.

G'night loves.

Renée

Every day I'm Snufflin'

Ok kids, I have a bone to pick with you. I told you to remind me to do laundry and you didn't, and now I still have laundry and it's all your fault. Luckily I still have enough clothes to wear for a good week and a half but all my favorites are dirty and I blame you.

The problem with laundry is this: even while doing laundry you are creating more laundry.... Well, unless you launder in the nude and that just sounds uncomfortable. It's an evil vicious cycle... and let's not even discuss hanging up clothes.

I think I'm going to help Jonny paint a room on Saturday. A room for Katie and his baby! (Since she posted a sonogram pic on fb I figure I'm safe to mention baby katiejon now.) Yeah, Sadie, I did steal "baby katiejon" from you, dawg, wanna make somethin' of it?? I think that helping paint might be my naturally supernatural way to bless people. I hate helping people move. I get really irritated. But I've been painting rooms since I was five/whenever my mom would let me help and I kinda like it. I get into a zen place and all I need are some tunes to be happy as a clam.

I've also got a bridesmaid dress fitting on Sat. Yeah, that's how I roll. Paintin' in the morning, fancy dresses in the afternoon.

Does anything else really need to be said?

Only this. 

I grew up in a land where corn grew quite well, but PBS did not, so there was a sad lack of Mr. Snuffleupagus in my childhood.

I don't think I've ever been able to overcome this. 

We need some Snuffleupagus affirmative action up in this joint.

Salesman's Nightmare

It's amazing how intimidating writing something can be.. every night I keep thinking it will be the night I sit down and start cranking out a script... (one act or reader's theatre is the next assignment.) And then I do no cranking. I have a few ideas... but I think I'm waiting for that flash of inspiration... I need to just start writing and then it will hit I think... yet I let myself be intimidated. Deadlines are great though... I think if I become a real-life author it will be slightly easier because I will have deadlines... Of course maybe not, since I don't actually have any idea how being an author works, except for what I see on TV/Movies.

Did I tell you the story of my nail?

One day Renée went to go get her mail. But instead of reaching into the mailbox, Renée just slammed her hand into the side of her mail cubby. It hurt really bad, and she might have even said a bad word in her head. When she looked at her hand her pinkie nail had started to rip and the whole nail was slightly cockeyed. Now it's hard for Renée to type because she can't really use her pinkie.

The moral of the story is: Don't be a clutz.

akimbo is a fabulous word, don't you think?

Akimbo and amuck.

I'm getting pastries in the mail sometime this week. Isn't that just fabulous?

Someone remind me to do laundry tomorrow. I need clean clothes.

I think that I've determined that I view a person's online presence as nearly the same thing as their actual presence. Perhaps why I love facebook so much? I think that I'm odd for this.

I've had two conversations in two days about the relationship between a husband and wife, and how it works... and I've realized that 1) I have super traditional thoughts on this and 2) it's not necessarily how most people think. I was talking to a friend who told me I needed to move to New Zealand- long story. But anyway I refused because I would need at least half of my friendship circle to move as well to be able to make it in a different country. But then I said, if a New Zealand guy came over, swept me off my feet, and married me then I'd move, cause I'd move to New Zealand for my husband. My friend said, "That must be some cool guy." (well, obviously if I'm marrying him!) But I said, "You got that wrong- I'm a cool chick... and sides... if we are married then... well... we're married." And then again today I was talking to someone else about this and wives kinda decreeing what the guy is going to do with his life... and I said... But that just doesn't make sense... cause I mean if the other person cares about something and is passionate about it... you support them.

Am I setting the feminist movement back 100 years by saying that my natural inclination is to support/follow my husband where he goes? I don't think so? I'm not saying that I can't have a career, or that he shouldn't support my passions and desires as well... but I wouldn't stand in his way just because I was uncomfortable with a new city or because I had a different plan for our life. And my first instinct is to think of his needs... just like he should be thinking of mine.

Of course I don't want to be told I have to make those kind of sacrifices, either. I want to feel like I'm choosing to make them... so perhaps I have a bit of a stubborn streak after all. I really don't respond well to being told how I should do something or only being given 2 options. I tend to balk.... and then create a third option for myself.

I am a salesman's nightmare.

And salesmen are mine.

Country Music and Snow White

OK, so I know a lot of people hate country music.... but for some reason it has the power to either emotionally wreck me :

Or make me feel like I can get through this:

I don't think many other kinds of music can do that for me. So... who gets to decide what makes music "good" anyway?

In other news, I'm seriously considering being an updated Snow White for Halloween... but not a trampy update.... and this may or may not just be cause I'm mighty curious about how I would look w/ red lipstick. Actually...

...time passes...

Ok I just tried it out-- I love having costume makeup at my disposal 24/7.

Also.... when in search of a last minute costume. Call freaking me, cause I just put together a Snow White look in less than 30 minutes with clothes in my closet... and I don't normally look like a princess.

Granted it's not at all what I will be wearing on Halloween, but I'm pretty sure someone would get the idea... especially if I added my cape to it.

Yes, I have a cape. ...Two, actually. Yes. I am awesome.

And you are just going to have to deal with that.

Craving human interaction

With the exception of game night, the most human interaction I have had all week was in my writing class.  That's right. All hour and 15 minutes of class is the greatest amount of time I've spent with anyone  all week, besides game night which it sounds like might be ending with the holidays...

So that's nearly over, another set of friends is moving away at the end of the month, and several other friends/people have moved away in the past few months. So much change, so much loss, so much different... and here I am desperately flailing to figure out how to have a single person's social life.

 I kinda feel like I'm going crazy, but... people are busy. My friends have lives and significant others and other friends and babies and families and Octoberfest... and all of this would be fine and normal if Nathan was still here.

I would have what I needed and while I'd miss everyone... people have busy seasons and I know schedules will lighten up eventually... but now... now everyone else's life has returned to what it was before, basically... or has moved on at least. And that means that I'm not a priority. I hate being needy. It's not something that makes people want to hang out with you... but what am I supposed to do??

Someone get me back in the dorms. At least in the dorms if I wanted company all I had to do was start baking and let the 2nd floor know. That was a good system. It worked out well back when I had like 60 guys who enjoyed freshly baked goods at my disposal.

Knees and Calves

My left knee hurts.

It's been hurting for like two weeks now...  Do you know how many millions of different things could cause one of your knees to start hurting? Approximately 4.

There was no flash of pain type beginning. I just started to notice that it hurt if I bent it or moved it... and it really hurts if I kneel on it. Sometime it hurts more than other times but I always feel it when I move my leg.

I don't like it.

It's really impressive how many books Mercedes Lackey can turn out in a year... she's got like 5 series and one of her books is released like every 6 months... maybe even closer to every 3-4 months. Props to Misty. 

Much running around town was done today. Almost bought some boots, but I didn't think I'd wear them enough to justify it. Which brings me to my next thought

Along with a large head I apparently have large calves. Now don't get me wrong. I actually think I have pretty good gams, but I have quite the time finding tall boots that I can wear because my calves are so big... my calves might be the most muscular part of my body. Why are they so huge?  How do you get normal sized calves?

It really weirds me out sometimes that this:

Is the same word as this:

BTW there are some mighty gross looking pictures of body builders' calves out there for the googling.... you know, if you are into that type of thing.

I'm not.

I'm into thick eyebrows.

Sleepy Praise for Men

You know what I like about the streak of color in my hair? It somehow makes me more approachable.

At least if I'm in Springfield it does... people are weirded out by it in small towns.

2:20 and I'm exhausted... why has this week been so long... it didn't really have that much... oh wait, I know. Last weekend was a travel weekend, so it's like I've had 2 weeks without my break. That makes sense.

I heart weekends.

I have wanderlust. I wish I could just up and take a European vacation... though I wouldn't want to go alone. Anyone want to vacation in Europe together?

I'm really really tired.

Why are boys so great? I mean for reals. Unless they are being jerks on purpose, guys are really great. At least all the ones I know. They talk to me and they laugh at my jokes and they humor me and they are just so  rootin'-tootin' straightforward. They just say what they mean and the subtext is exactly what you think it is. It's so nice. I'm such a fan of men.... I'm kinda glad I was born a woman just so I can like men this much and not be gay. I mean I know there is a lot of this idea of "girl power" floating around and while I am proud to be a woman.... I just don't want you to sell the dudes short. They are my favorite.

And boys like comic book movies and I like comic book movies.

and boys like video games and I like video games

and boys like to be protective and I like to be protected... really it's quite the simpatico relationship we got going on.

There will be an answer. Let it be.

I'm feeling a shift in me... I don't know if it's one of those temporary things that will back off in a few days or if it's more permanent, but I'm feeling a shift none the less. It's weird... cause there are times when you know the right words to say and you think you feel it, so you say the right words... but in the end it wasn't actually true.  You were just saying the right words. Your head knew the truth but you didn't *feel* it. And then something twists inside of you and suddenly you are saying the right words still, but the feeling is different. You mean them in a way that you didn't this whole time. In a way that you'd forgotten you knew. In a way that's so familiar, and yet so new. That's how I'm feeling now.

I'm not even sure that makes sense.

Since Nathan died I've talked a lot about being special. I've made jokes about how dumb all the guys are who don't see it. I've blogged about it on more than one occasion.. I've gone on at length to some very patient friends about how I think I'm awesome and I'd totally be my own friend... but even with all that. I wasn't feeling it. I was saying the right words... sometimes saying some crazily arrogant sounding words and I thought I meant it... but a lot of that was just trying to convince myself... you know, say it enough times to make it true? Someone who believes in themselves enough doesn't need to shout quite so loudly or long...ly.

My confidence has always been people centered. I need a seed friend to be myself. Thus why my freshman year was so horrible... I had no seed friends... I couldn't be who I was because I couldn't trust anyone to go into a group liking me already. I just need to know on some bone deep level that even if I make an utter and complete fool of myself that someone will be pre-dispositioned to give me the benefit of a doubt... to like me in spite of my quirks... to grin and roll their eyes at me and ask me what I'm doing tomorrow. Nathan was my seed love. It was a lot easier to believe that guys could be interested in me from the safety of a happy marriage. From the perspective of a gal who already knows that someone in this world thinks she's great enough to refuse to let anyone else get a chance. And then he was gone, and I didn't know what to do... So I started blowing my own horn. But secretly I was thinking that I'm damaged goods. What guy could be interested in me when he knows that I was married before?  Who wouldn't turn the other direction before giving me the benefit of a doubt? Who wants to deal with the emotional baggage of a widow when they could date a "normal" girl? What sort of a man wouldn't be scared that beneath my normal exterior there is a crazy weepy needy fruit-loop just waiting to be unleashed? Plus if no one ever wants to be the "first" guy I date after Nathan then there never will be a guy after Nathan. I just didn't think that anyone would be willing to get to know me well enough to find out that I'm actually not too much to handle.... much less to think I'm anywhere close to special enough to want to invest in.

So I did what I always did in HS and College. I got a crush on a guy who I knew wasn't interested. It's not like I plan these things... but... I definitely have a pattern. It's just... safe. You can pine from afar and you don't have to actually worry about getting your heart broken, because they just aren't interested and you know that going in. And you can have all the giggling and butterflies and drama, but none of the *real* stuff. And I don't know that I'm doing it until after the fact.

You see I've been chasing "finding someone."  From the moment that Nathan died and I was struck by that soul-rending lonliness, I've been craving it. But I knew the right words to say. "I don't need it, I just want it." "I don't need a boyfriend to be happy." But that's not how I was feeling. If it was I wouldn't have been checking e-harmony obsessively. I wouldn't have been worrying about what their every single glance or word or deed meant about how this boy or that boy felt about me. I wouldn't have worried about what my every glance or word or deed  was communicating about me.

Let it be, let it be. Let it be, let it be.

Of course, now that I say all that, how can I be sure that these aren't just the right words and I actually am not in the place that I think I am now. And my answer to that is the very unsatisfying, "Because it just feels different." I stopped checking e-harmony (I still get the e-mails so if someone sends me communication I will know.) I've let go of the crush, and I can be alone several days in a row without obsessively calling someone to hang out with. Don't worry I still love people, it's just not quite so frantic. I guess in general, I'm just feeling far less desperate and far more like myself- a blunt and painfully direct, oddly shy, quirky, hilarious, conundrum of a girl (or should that just read, "girl?") And while I'm open to whatever the universe decides to send my way... Well I guess I just feel less obsessive... like I'm opening that fist up a bit.

So I suppose we'll see how long this lasts, or if I relapse in a couple of days. :)

Revel in the Awesome

I know that this feeling shall pass, as all feelings do, but for right now I would like to revel in the awesome.

I sent in my story for peer review Monday afternoon. I was kinda nervous about it, because it wasn't anything like most of the stories that were already in. It is for younger kids, the chapters are *much* shorter than anything anyone had done (though similar in length to the early readers I found in the library). And most of all, it was in first person.

But I went ahead and submitted it, because I wasn't happy with my other attempt at an early reader.

Today we reviewed the early readers... and I got a rave.. Such a rave!

My teacher started out with saying that it made her laugh out loud. I responded, "Good!"

And then she said, "I'm not kidding, I was up in my office, sitting at my desk, laughing." I smiled, cause I felt this could only be to my good.

And then she said, "I only have valentines for you." (She calls things that we like about a work valentines.) And then I really started grinning. She then went on to say she thought it was ready to send out to the world and see if there is any interest in my story, but that I should look into finding an agent first. Agents are apparently harder to find/get, but necessary if you want to make a living off your work. She asked the class if they had any comments and everyone just said that they loved it. My professor even made a point of saying that she really looked for something to critique and just couldn't find anything. One student said it was brilliant and asked me what my process was for coming up with this story... I felt like a celebrity. Now, to be fair, if anyone hadn't liked it after such glowing reviews it would have been nigh on impossible for them speak up about it. But still, I'm thrilled.

I was bobbing my head- trying to look at Dr. Stringam as she was talking to me but unable to stop looking down because while it's lovely it's also embarrassing to be praised so much. And as we all know, a bowed head is a sign of humility. Several people told me good job as I was leaving the classroom. I was just... thrilled.

Of course, now I'm a bit paranoid that nothing is going to live up to my shining moment of an easy reader..... but who's it going to hurt to try? And I want the criticism. That's why I took the class. I want to know what people think and if there is any way to improve my work. But that's another day. Today I think I should just be inordinately proud of myself and tarry in this glow a bit.

Emotions vs Logic

Since the advent of working until 5 during the week my crazy sleep schedule has evened out a bit. With the inability to nap in the afternoon before needing to be places I have to go to bed earlier... so this whole 3 AM thing is not as happy as I'd like it to be. But a blogger must blog, and so blog I must.

So anyway. Emotions.

I've got 'em. Boy howdy, do I got em. And after last week I've been thinking. Last Wednesday was a hard day. So hard that I went to a friend's house just for the company. Let's call him Chuck.* Yes, it was a male friend, but he's like a cousin to me, so don't start gettin' any ideas. Men are comforting to me, remember? Plus this guy is about the lowest key person I know, so I didn't feel like I had to be on. I didn't have to entertain, I didn't have to be entertained, I just wasn't alone. I did this on purpose. Cause I knew at some point or another I was gonna feel it... and if I feel it when I'm alone I get so miserable and I don't have a place to go for comfort.

So there I was, tra la la, eating my salad, working on homework, and thinking... mainly just thinking, though, honestly. All day there was this cloud over my head. A huge stormhead that just made things dark  and threatening. So finally I'd had enough. I went chasing the storm. I went and read things we'd written. Things from last year. Things from 2 years ago. My thoughts, Nathan's thoughts, memories. And there it was. The breakdown I'd been feeling rising all day. So I read Nathan's words, "I'm alive" from this time last year and I read about what I thought was going to be our one lost year. And I cried because it was really our one last year and when it started hurting too bad I went and found Chuck and forced him into a teary hug and one of those awkward silences where you aren't really done hurting, but neither of you really know what to say either...

Then Chuck, bless him, tried to fill the silence...

Boys try to fix things. I think most of us are aware of this stereotype... They try to fix things and they are generally thinkers, not feelers. Well, in this situation the stereotype held true. He didn't know what to do, so he started to try and find a way to fix the situation. He can't really bring Nathan back, so the problematic element was that I knew what day it was. If I didn't know what day it was, I wouldn't be so sad. Did I have a calendar with all these anniversaries on it somewhere? Cause there seem to be a lot.

No, if I had a calendar with all this recorded I would be holding a ceremonial bonfire. And the reason why there are a lot? Well, these used to be celebration days... but more than that... Nathan was the most important thing in my life. I don't really mess around with loving someone. Everything I knew/was/did, was wrapped up in my love for this man. So I notice the passing of time without him. I remember the days that were significant to us. I remember the days that changed my life.

I mentioned the blogs, and Chuck found something to latch on to. I shouldn't read those things. Re-reading blogs isn't always a good idea at the best of times, much less the worst of times. And I admitted that maybe I shouldn't have done that... and by then my emotions were beginning to settle, and so I got distracted by a cool lamp and soon I could go back in the other room and entertain myself.

But here's where we get to the heart of the matter. Because after much thought, I believe that I did exactly what I should have done. My emotions are not the problem that needs to be fixed. My tears aren't the issue. The problem is that my husband died. Because of this, I have a lot of symptoms (emotions and tears) but the "fix" to the problem is healing. I have to heal. And sometimes the way to heal is to let yourself feel where it hurts- Which can cause tears.

The thing is that death causes emotions... and trying to ignore those emotions, or quash them when they do arise isn't healthy... it's (pardon the crass-ness of the analogy) emotional constipation. I don't dwell in my sadness... that's actually what I was trying to avoid by getting company for that night. Just hunkering down in my pain. So did I try to bring on a little bit of that breakdown? Yes. But it was like taking something that makes you throw up when you accidentally ingest poison. I knew I could cry, get my hug and my uncomfortable silence and then the dark cloud could pass. Last Thursday was 8 months... but it was ok... I think in no small part because I just face and deal with what I can when I can. When it hurts, I let it hurt. But when it's time to laugh... I laugh.

I'm not at all upset with my friend. I think that boys are taught to quash their emotions a lot more than girls are... especially country kids. He was actually trying to be helpful, because he cares about me which is in it's own way healing to me... and he helped me realize that sometimes I do act as though my tears are the problem, rather than the symptom. I'm still a country stoic at heart... and I don't want to freak people out, so I keep the sorrow hidden behind so many walls. But tears are cleansing, too. And I think I need to remember that as long as I stay open enough to notice the cool lamps and don't just set up camp in my sorrow, it's still ok to cry. You can't logic away emotions. But, if I can feel the emotions then I can release them, and trying to convince myself that this day or that day doesn't mean anything isn't going to do me any favors.

I just have to keep dealing with today. And forcing awkward silences on them.

*Chuck is not at all his real name, he just plays a bit of an antagonist in this particular story so I didn't want to use real names as he's actually a fabulous bloke, and not an antagonist at all.

Phoenix

Been writing for my class. It really helped being around Kadin and Jeriah this weekend. Especially since Kadin is around the beginning of the age range that these early readers are gauged for. Reminds me what's important/interesting to a 5 year old.

I've got a post inside of me that will soon come to fruition, I think... it's going to talk about dealing with emotions rather then stuffing them or avoiding them and hoping that they go away because they are not logical. It's not quite there... or more accurately, I have too many other things that I want to talk about and I think this post should stand on it's own. So you just get this teaser for tonight.

Have you heard the  "You and I" song by Lady Gaga??  It sounds *really* country... and she's singing about Nebraska. If that doesn't say country song disguised as a Gaga tune, I don't know what does. She even throws in spoken comments ala early 90's Shania Twain. Lady Gaga: embracing the unexpected since... birth.

9PM run to Wal-mart with the windows rolled down-- Just lovely. I'm happy that I live in the city so that a half hour run to Wal-mart is actually a possibility. I really do enjoy living in the city. I have a great fondness for country living... but going back to it would be really hard.

I loooove cinnamon.. I might even lurve it.

I was reminded of Jerimiah 29 today. In particular, 10-14 :

This is what the Lord says: “When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. 11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. 14 I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.”

Sometimes I hate the verses like this. I want to yell. "I was prospering! What happened to not harming me! I've been harmed! I followed You as well as I possibly could. How could You let this happen? How could You?"

But I also remember the ways that I've been held up through this whole process. How many wonderful people have come alongside of me just as I needed them. How many incredible experiences I've had that can only be attributed to God placing the right people in the right places. How I always seem to have someone to turn to. How big of an impact Nathan has had on people's lives, even without the chance to turn 26.

So sometimes God telling me " 'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.' " Sometimes it feels like a warm blanket wrapped around me. He has plans to give me hope and a future... hope and a future where I see only ashes. God's gonna make my life a phoenix.

Feeling Good... and tired

I'm starting to feel good... and independant. Maybe it's just being around my family. Maybe not... It's strange how confidence and self esteem seem to go in cycles. Sometimes you feel it and sometimes you fake it.

I've seen the "less cancer, more birthdays" commercial several times lately and all I can say is that I'm so glad that it took 8 months to see them. I mean I don't like them regardless, but they could have been devastating a few months ago, given the timing of Nathan's death so close to his birthday. Now I just don't like them. But it's nothing they did, I think they are good commercials, just circumstantially unappealing.

Oh my, I'm so tired.

Hey guys! Wanna see something cool???

And if you follow this link you can see it on Amazon. That, my friends, is the video game that I worked on this spring. How cool is that?

It's hella cool. Let me tell you.

Ok, seriously I think I might go crash. I'm soooo tired.

Happy Birthday Grandma Twila

Stayed up far too late doing laundry last night... and then got up early for packing/traveling. I'm really glad that driving in the Prius isn't so bad.... but man did I get tired early tonight.  That said, I still have to write this here blog and shower before I sleep, so it may be a short post.

It's my grandmother's 80 birthday tomorrow.

Isn't that thing cool? That's all of my grandmother's grandchildren and great grandchildren (marrieds together) spelling out Happy Birthday Grandma Twila- 80. It was the brainchild of one of my aunts and I really like it. We are a crazy quilt of cousins-all 30 of us... holy jeepers, I'm one of 30 first and second cousins.. Have I mentioned lately how much I love my family? Cause I do. Every last one of 'em.

So I'm at "home" -technically at Rhonda's home tonight. Going to Memphis post-festivities tomorrow. Surprise festivities, so I sincerely hope my Grandma doesn't read my blog... but I don't know that she's quite that tech-savvy, so I think I'm ok.

I'm living on the edge, telling the internet beforehand. But that's just how I am- a risk taker. Wild and dangerous.. you know, me and my general wholesome-ness. (There is a reason that mothers like me more than their sons do, normally.) I have to say I get a seriously different reaction to the streak of color in my hair based on my local. In Springfield no one notices or seems to care and I get regular compliments on it. In Kirksville I had some askance glances and little old ladies who either eyed me with amusement or suspicion. In my sister's small town no one says a word about it but I get such looks! Meanwhile my niece and nephew think it's awesome.

Luckily for me, I think it's awesome, too.