Tomato soup

This blog is about why my life is like tomato soup.

"What?" You say.

"Tomato Soup?" You say.

Verily I say unto you.

Tomato Soup.

OK, lemme 'splain before you scoff at me.

But before I 'splain let me give you the beginning of a blog that I wrote this afternoon:

I don't understand it when people say that they get anything that they try for - be it a job/part/accolade/position... That doesn't happen to me... 

In fact, sometimes it seems that the surest way for me to not get something is to get excited about it... to try for it... to actively hope for it. It was true in grade school - For example, the role of the Littlest Christmas Tree in "The Littlest Christmas Tree." The teacher even split the part and I still wasn't even a regular tree. Broke my poor little 3rd grade heart. It was true in Jr high.  It was true in high school and college and it's still proving to be true. (I decided listing actual examples of all my life's disappointments wasn't very fun/smart. So just imagine that I did, if you like symmetry.) 

That said, jobs/parts/accolades/positions do have a tendency to just fall into my lap. It's like there is a strange law of the universe that says if I'm competing against anyone I will lose. *However* if  someone is just told, "think of the best person you know for this job" then I'm the top of the list. Perhaps this is why I'm not a competitive person?

Kinda makes me not want to try or hope for things...

Actually what I've been thinking lately is that I need to just stop hoping for/wanting stuff... Because I really want what God wants for me.. but I don't know what that is.... and so I thought perhaps what I needed to do was just give it all up... to not hope or want anything.

Ok... I hear you. What in the world does all this have to do with tomato soup?

Well I went to small group tonight... and I have to admit, I went kinda kicking and screaming (in my head.) I didn't want to... in fact I planned not to. I was going to skip it and then a friend called me and asked if I wanted to hang out and I said that I had small group so I couldn't... but then I actually had to go to small group. So I went- begrudgingly. And practically everything that everyone said tonight hit something in me... and they weren't even talking or praying for me at the time... so I finally said that I could use some prayer for all the things in my pre-blog. And the group prayed for me and it was really great... and very teary... but good.

Then I came home to have some supper. I was really excited about tomato soup for some reason.

"At last!" You cry.

"The soup makes an appearance!" You exclaim.

"Stop interrupting me" I frown.

"Sorry, mate." You say.

"S'cool, just don't do it again." I say

So I was...

"Right, Sorry." You say

I glare.

So I was excited for tomato soup. And I came home and I got it ready and I put it in the microwave. I eat the Soup at Hand tomato soups... I'm not sure why but that's what I like. My soup looks like this:

The problem with Soup at Hand is they are taller and skinny-- so as to be handy. But you know how soup jumps in the microwave when you are heating it up? Something to do with hot pockets of the liquid.

Well my tomato soup that I was so excited about... my last tomato soup. It started heating up and then it jumped... and it fell over.

See how that worked-- I got excited and then this thing that I had in my hand, that I was so excited about... it toppled.

So then I had a gigantic mess to clean up, *and* I didn't have the soup.

And yes there are more soups at the store... but I don't like shopping by myself... especially not at night and especially not when there is a tornado warning/watch. So I can get what I want... but it's in a place I am not and it's gonna take some time to get there if I want to be smart about it.

See what I mean? That's the story of why my life is like tomato soup.

It makes you want to either laugh or cry... I choose laughing.

And glaring at you when you get super chatty.

We can't all be Janis

Feeling better tonight. Went and worked at Starbucks for a few hours and was around some people... yep, still an extrovert.

Plus I was super helpful by writing a large portion of a game document for Ryan cause he was in the weeds and let's face it, being super helpful makes me really happy. Oh, btw I'm kinda helping out with a game again... in addition to packing, moving, cleaning, writing a book, and painting my nails.

Yes, painting my nails does count as it's own large thing that I'm doing.

Actually, believe it or not I've not painted my nails for almost a week. Remember the glitter tips I had last week? Well, I loved that glitter so much that I just painted my whole nails in it... and I'm still wearing it-- because you don't really notice chips or wear on the edges when it's glitter and they are so flipping pretty-- especially in the sun.

Trust me when I say this doesn't do them justice.

Seriously the only thing I want to do is put another coat of the same color on them. Who knew that the act of painting your nails could be addictive? I thought it was just the ever changing colors, but no, apparently I just find something soothing about doing the mundane task. Though my cuticles are a lot happier with their prolonged separation from acetone.

Someone linked to an article on facebook today that I thought might be healthy for me. It's called the Rejection Game and the goal is to get rejected by someone once every day. It apparently gets you over your fear of rejection. Huh. Makes sense, but I don't know that it's something I really want to do every day... now on the other hand if I can just view every rejection I do receive as a victory, or a point... seems like there might be something to that. Cause rejection means you are taking chances... and that doesn't seem like such a bad thing.

I've given myself until March 1st before I start packing. That's Thursday and I'll probably be pretty busy until then anyway... but also I feel like I can buckle down then. It's the beginning of the weekend- and I've got 2 weekends until I move. Plus it's hard to get motivated when I think that it's February and I don't move until the middle of March. Yeah, I know that's a bit silly but I don't want to have to live around boxes for a super long time, either... it's gonna be bad enough in the two weeks before I have the keys to the new place.

I don't watch the Academy Awards, but apparently The Artist was a big deal last night? I'd never heard of it until tonight, when a friend told me about it...but now I kinda want to see it, and not just because it makes me think of Singing in the Rain. But also because of these insane reviews.

Also the next time I'm with a group of people I want to play this game that my friend Janis talked about a long time ago on her blog (but linked to today on fb)

You can see her blog here... but don't stop reading mine because you discover how freaking hilarious she is.

We can't all be Janis.

Memories like Dreams

Every now and again I remember what my life was like in the last few months of cancer as though it was a bad dream. Not Nathan, never Nathan, but my life... what I did, how I lived. When it wasn't the people at Starbucks who knew me, but the people at the pharmacy.

A while back Kara brought up compression socks...

I'd forgotten about compression socks.

I couldn't believe it... I hated those darn things. It was like I was torturing Nathan... and we had to take them off and put them on so often.... and it took so long... 15 minutes or more per sock sometimes.  And it was just so wrong because you are 1) supposed to be able to put on and take off your own socks and 2) it should take 5 minutes tops and 3) it shouldn't hurt.

But it did.

I was so emotionally and physically exhausted that I think I lived a good portion in a daze... not really knowing what I was doing, just getting by.

And so looking back it barely feels like it was me. I was consumed with being a caretaker...

I hope that Nathan didn't feel like I'd checked out. He deserved better than that.

PostSecret

I read PostSecrets every week.

I've never sent anything in because I don't feel like I have anything that's a secret.

Maybe that's because most of the time this blog is my PostSecret?

But sometimes I wonder why people send in the postcards.... do they really send them in because they just need to say it?

I don't think so.

I think that most... if not all... of the PostSecrets are made because the people want to start a conversation, but they don't know how. So they hope that someone sees their secret and knows/figures out who wrote it... and asks them about it...

They just want to have a real conversation with the people who matter to them...

Sometimes I'm struck by just how many people there are in this world...

and nearly all of them are searching for a connection.

I'm not sure if that makes me feel hopeless or hopeful.

Maybe a little bit of both.

Writing

"We do not write because we want to; we write because we have to." -W. Somerset Maugham

I was reminded of this today, when I was complaining about some aspect of what we do to a writing friend of mine.

I said, "Why do we do this again?"

And she said,"Because nothing else makes us feel this way." 

And I said, "Oh yes, we write because we must."

Writing time is about to get scarce, with the advent of my move. But I must.

At this point it's too much a part of my soul to do anything else...

Strange how little more than a year ago I never would have thought that about myself.

I've always been good with words. I was taunted that I "read the dictionary for fun."-in high school, no less. Almost every English teacher I've had has read my stuff aloud to the class or given me high written praise. I liked vocab tests for heaven's sake, but it took me until 28 to realize how much I like it. How great I think it would be to make a career out of it. That I am in fact a writer... who writes because she must.

And if I had even one fewer person encouraging me, who knows if I'd be able to say that, today.

Writers are not born, they are made

Broseph

I had a really strange day today.

Basically everyone I spoke to acted out of character.

Or, if not "out of character" they just said very surprising things.

I complimented a friend on his hair and he told me in no uncertain terms that he would never Ever EVER be wearing his hair like this on purpose.

I said, "Wow that's some strong opinion--Chillax! Just trying to give you a compliment, Broseph."

I didn't actually say it like that.  Those were false quotation marks.

I've never called anyone Broseph...

Though I kinda want to, now.

Broseph did see the error of his ways and realize I was just trying to say I liked his hair- not that I was suggesting he should consider changing everything about his life and style because I made a stray comment.... Then he thanked me for the compliment.

"Crazy-Pants-Broseph," that's what they call him.

It's not.

No one has ever called him that.

I faked you out with the quotations again. See, I can use them like that because I am a writer of fiction.

Don't you wish you were a writer of fiction?

Anyway, the day was full of things like that-- and that was just one person and something that I can actually discuss.

but there were lots of situations similar to this today that I can't really talk about.

Just because my life is an open book doesn't mean everyone else's is.

I did see an old artist man in hipster glasses and beret discussing how he could hang an art piece in Starbucks today... that was pretty great. I enjoy the surreptitious people-watching that can be done at Starbucks.

Maybe the next time I see him I'll say, "Hey, Hipster-Beret-Old-Broseph! How's the hanging?"

...or maybe not.

Stronger

I've been jamming out to a Kelly Clarkson song that's all over the radio lately.

It's actually talking about a break-up. But the part that I sing really loudly with the windows down is the chorus:

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger  
Stand a little taller  
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone  
What doesn't kill you makes a fighter  
Footsteps even lighter  
Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone

Please note there is a little bit of anger in this song... and it's not anger at Nathan that I'm feeling when I'm belting- it's more like anger at the people who assume that I'm this completely broken person... or the people who talk about your spouse being your life/heart/soul... or anyone who ever says that Nathan "lost" his battle to cancer.

What doesn't kill me makes me stronger and I stand a little taller. It doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone. What doesn't kill you makes you a fighter. My footsteps are even lighter. It doesn't mean I'm over because he's gone.

I don't understand why people can be victorious after a breakup but no one celebrates strength after death. I can't say for sure, but I'm pretty certain it's harder to get through than a break-up.

Then again, maybe it's not, cause I don't have any insecurities brought on by death...

Who's to say? I don't think it will be me.

Velociraptor incident

Having a missing day.

Pioneer Woman had a post about a cowboy funeral.

And I saw that Ender's Game is being made into a movie, and I thought about how excited Nathan would have been.

And how he never got to read any books in the series except the first one.

And how much he liked it... and would have liked the rest of them.

And I just wish he could be here to finish so many things he didn't get to.

And to see me hold Bolt and how smiley Bolt is with me.

And to hold Bolt and for Bolt to be smiley with him.

And for that to melt me into a pile of goo.

And to talk to me when I'm irritated with someone or something.

And to give me his opinion on perfume.

And to tell me I'm beautiful.  I miss that *so* much. I can't even begin to explain how much and how often I want to hear that I'm beautiful because he isn't here to say it to me.

And I'm afraid to say any of this.

I fight really hard to prove that I don't have emotional baggage, to show that I'm ok, to prove that I can and am able to move forward... and sometimes it feels like if I admit that I miss him then I'm throwing the markers that people use to judge how I'm doing down the drain.

Admitting to missing him is like a Velociraptor incident in this sign.

Only I don't even get days- I get interactions, so if someone just reads this blog post and doesn't read another post for a month I'm stuck in their head where I am right now, and my emotions just aren't that fixed.

I'm in a good place, but there is no way to prove it to anyone... cause I'd say it, even if I wasn't. I can only show it and that takes so darn long. Everything takes so darn long.

I don't want to have to start from scratch. I don't want to be realistic or fair. My life was already exactly where I wanted it to be and I want to pout about it, but that will just take up time that is already gone.

I don't even know how to explain it, but missing Nathan makes me so impatient for the rest of my life to happen. It's like I have to live for the both of us, and I'm just standing around.

Hi, my name is Renee and it's been 10 seconds since my last Velociraptor incident.

Movin!

I'm excited. I got a call today, that I'm approved for a townhouse. I will be moving from mid-late March.

Here are some pictures of what my townhouse will look like:

Yes! I will have a garage! I've never had a garage that I can park my car in before! In my whole life!

Honestly, the first time I wrote the sentence I wrote, "I will have a guitar!" 

I won't have a guitar... I can't play the guitar. I think a garage is more exciting.

There you see the door through which I will enter from the garage.... and the door that everyone else will enter through... oh and also a gas fireplace. oooooh

I'm excited about a garage because it can hold my car... and also if I get super ambitious and decide to build/stain/paint anything I will have a space to do it in.

Here is a view from by the stairs...

Here is a closer view of the kitchen... gotta get me some bar stools.

And the actual kitchen, itself. While I'm not overly enthusiastic about the stain of wood, I am excited that you can *see* the wood. I heart wood grain.

There aren't any pictures of upstairs for me to show you... but there is a ridiculous 2 and 1/2 bathrooms... (quite the upgrade from my current one) lots more storage than I currently have, and in a better part of town... all for not *that* much more than I was paying before.

I'm really excited about stairs. I may take that back in a few months... or when I move in... but I feel like it's a good way to be more active, and I don't have to carry groceries up steps... I do have to tote laundry up and down, but I did it growing up, so hopefully it comes back to me... else my kitchen might become my closet, too.

Also I bought new nail polish today. Check it, yo!

Both the brown and the glitter are new... please forgive my sloppy cuticles, this was before I cleaned them up.

And I've decided that Seche Vite is the most amazing top coat in the world... not that you care. :)

In other news I really want to watch a chick flick.... but a really good chick flick.... like a Pretty Woman level-of-epic chick flick... but one that I've not seen before... I don't know that this is possible.

Crazy confusing

expect

except

accept

The English language is crazy confusing.

And along those lines I give you this poster which says the author is unknown but I saw a site that stated the author is Richard Lederer.

 

Good Day and Dread Pirates

I had a good day. Woke up "late," but still early for late (10:00), showered, ate and watched a tv show.

I almost always watch a tv show while I eat if I'm at home. It makes me feel less alone. I don't know what widows did before there was tv/Netflix. It's my saving grace, so often! I would probably not eat alone if I didn't have tv... which doesn't sound terribly healthy.

Then around two I went to Starbucks and started writing-- 5 and 1/3 pages- Yesss! and in about 3 hours! I have to remind myself that while 5 pages in three hours may not seem that impressive, it's pretty good for me, especially when you take into consideration that I start by going back to the beginning of the chapter and reading what I already wrote, editing it, and then continuing on. It's easy to assume that writing is as fast as thinking.. or at worst, reading... it's not. It's actually a much slower process. I mean it takes me an awful long time to write an e-mail, and that doesn't even have a plot or a POV that I have to stick to! Though when I get in the zone it really can fly.-- both the time and the writing.

Random thought: I wonder if I ever become famous if I'll still be able to go to Starbucks to write or if I will have to make my own little writing retreat because my fans will be too needy. What I secretly hope is that I will become famous, and go to Starbucks, but everyone will just treat me like normal and the regulars will shoo away crazy fans and maybe sometimes people will come and watch me write like I'm a museum exhibit.

Weird, Renée. And now it's not even a secret.

So anyway, then Melissa called me up and we went to a little thing called VisionCon with Bill and Dan... Wow was that an experience. We were only there for like 15 minutes, and only in the "dealer" room but golly... Nerds are.. nerdy. :)

 That said, with so many people selling and roaming about in costumes, I felt a bit like I'd found my people. And I'm so normal compared to them! I was wearing a skirt and leg warmers and in the real world I felt cute but a little strange. In VisionCon I felt like I was totally normal/kinda boring. I mean, I didn't have a corset or even a tail!

Also I must say- I have no idea what the guy dressed as the "Dread Pirate Roberts" actually looked like, considering the costume covers up almost everything except for a weird mustache... And yet I found him super attractive because of the movie. Why isn't there a girl costume that is that covered and that alluring?!? 

Kinda makes me want to go to a single's Masquerade Ball.

So after that experience, we went to dinner and then Melissa and I went and got wedding crafty while the boys went somewhere to smoke uppity tobacco or something. And Melissa and I watched Stardust. Such a fun movie.

Then I came home and planned out my outfit for tomorrow with items in my closet that I'd almost forgotten about. I'm wearing heels- we'll see how that goes. Did I tell you about how my left foot has been hurting lately? It has.. Just sometimes when I move it a certain way, but then it hurts a lot- from my sole to the top of my foot- wrapping around with the arch. I've not worn heels in at least a week, trying to make it stop hurting, but there doesn't seem to be a difference, so I guess I'll know if it's heels' fault after tomorrow. I can still stand on my tiptoes without pain, so I don't think it's a fallen arch, but Web MD has been less than helpful. Then again even when they get the diagnosis right Web MD can be a bit dangerous.

Ach, it's time to go to bed, I think, and dream of the Dread Pirate Roberts.

Next time I have a boy whom I can dress up for Halloween I know what we are going as!  I can't believe I hadn't thought of it before! But don't steal my costume idea, lest I have to sic an RoUS on you.

Annoying

Kara and I were discussing something tonight and she told me I should blog about it... so I am.

Last Sunday, the sermon was about being a community- being the type of community God tells us to be. How we are to interact with with other. The main scripture reference was Ephesians, 4:1-6. The part of it that I'm going to focus on is just a small part of Tim's message so if you want to actually listen to the sermon it's at this link -And if you want to hear him talk about what I'm referring to, it's at 20:26. What I'm focusing on is 4:2- "Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love." In other words, "Be nice and lovingly put up with one another." We are supposed to do that because we are supposed to be an example to the world of what God wants for us all.

Tim told us that the word patience there can also be translated as "long suffering." In the sermon, he makes reference to how if you've ever been a part of a marriage, a family, or even a group of friends you know that there is a certain amount of "long suffering" and patience that has to be employed. It's not because we don't love the others, it's just because they are not us. I got annoyed with Nathan often. I got embarrassed by Nathan often. There were many times where I just wanted to throw my hand across his mouth to stop him from saying something that I felt was horribly wrong or offensive.

It's almost impossible to believe (or not so much) but I'm willing to wager there were things that Nathan also found annoying about me. I know he hated that I chewed my nails, but I'm sure there were a lot of other things that he just never told me, because I couldn't help it, or it would hurt my feelings... the same thing goes for my family. Rhonda used to hate that I would sing along to every song on the radio... and she'd yell at me for not singing in the same octave as the male musicians. I would get irritated with her over equally trivial things. But we put up with it, we get over it, and we ignore it- because we love this person. Because they are a part of our family.

Then I read an article the other day on Cracked, entitled "7 Reasons the 21st Century is Making You Miserable" (Click for link, but beware of the language)

The article is based on the premise that people are more unhappy today and part of the reason why is that the number of close friends that people are reporting to have is dropping quickly and significantly. The article blames a lot of this on the internet, but I thought it was interesting that the first two reasons had a lot to do with the idea of "putting up with one another in love"

The first was: We don't have enough annoying strangers in our lives.

The author claims that annoyance is something you build up a tolerance to-- like Iocane powder.

What you do not smell is Iocane powder. It is odorless, tasteless, and dissolves instantly in liquid and is among the more deadly poisons known to man. http://www.redbubble.com/people/purplecactus/works/7602237-iocane

So the author says that the more we remove annoyances/annoying people from our lives the less able we are to deal with it when it does arise.

Makes sense to me, but then he takes it a step further with the second reason: We don't have enough annoying friends, either. Apparently before we all had the ability to filter out those who we found pompous or annoying, Americans as a whole considered themselves to be "happier in their jobs and more satisfied with their lives. And get this: They had more friends."

When people were just stuck with the people who happened to be born in the same town as they were, when they just had to "put up with one another in love" because the others weren't just like them, they said they were happier... Honestly it makes sense. It's a lot more gratifying to feel like someone who has nothing in common with you enjoys your company than to feel like someone who is practically your clone likes you. Of course clone-you is a fan... if they weren't, they would dislike themselves... but to get Joe Schmoe to like you, when you and he have no similarities?? Well that must mean you are something special. There is almost a sense of accomplishment in your friendship.

I guess I just find it a good reminder that a bit of annoyance every now and again is healthy for me... If you can get past the initial annoyance that they listen to different music or read different books, then perhaps you will be the best of friends. It's like germs... in large quantities very bad, but in small doses, beneficial to your social skills.

Plus I just sorta think it's so neat/cool/of course that God wants us to do something for Him that is actually good for us, too.  God can be so tricksy like that!

Talking bout my generation'

Today for a while Tim and I got to talking about my generation (the millennials). Apparently he'd spoken to a friend who'd said that Millennials are the most socially awkward generation, thus far, because so much interaction can be done via text (phones, e-mails, the internet, ect) so we've lost.. or never had to acquire... the proper interpersonal skills. Tim disagreed and stuck up for us, saying that he felt like every generation has a way in which they are more awkward, and we are no worse or better than any other.

I appreciated it... but it also got me to thinking. I talk to people a lot. I was a Speech/Communication teacher, for goodness sake. I enjoy interpersonal communication, and I think I have reasonable skills at it. I enjoy conversations and one on ones with friends and small groups. I like the give and take, I like the conversational flow. And heaven help me do I like witty banter! But I am a writer and I really do enjoy expressing myself through text. There is a reason why I label myself as a textrovert. I like being able to edit myself to say exactly what I mean. I like being able to be witty without having to also speak quickly/correctly. And I like to be able to express my full thought without being interrupted.

Maybe this friend of Tim's thinks the Millennials are so socially awkward in person because we are so eloquent and savvy via text. Yep that sounds totally conceited- sorry. But really. Most of the solid friendships I've made since going to college have had a strong basis in text. (There are several exceptions- especially any friendships I made through Nathan.) But much of Kara and I's friendship-- especially the early years can be charted through notes written to each other. Every summer when I went home during college I had a person who I chatted with online for hours at a time. Yes, usually it was a boy, but text is good for guys cause they can express things without having to look at the other person which really helps them. And yes, Nathan was one of the people who I maintained my friendship with via words/the internet. Especially over the summer, but we regularly sent each other e-mails and texts while living in the same small apartment.

Now, with Nathan gone I find myself returning to the old ways. Of the 5 close friends I've made since Nathan's death, three of them are almost exclusively via some sort of text (e-mail, texting, IM-ing) and the other two have a large component of the relationship communicated through writing. And even Kara and I have taken more to e-mailing or chatting via IM, lately.

Oh and don't forget everyday I pour my thoughts out to you here on my blog... and add to that I'm also writing a book (6 pages today! Woot!)

But I don't see anything wrong with this. I've discovered that I view a person's internet presence as a stand-in for their actual presence... so Kara and I chatted for several hours and I get the same sort of emotional buzz as I do from hanging out with her in person. It's not quite as high, and of course I will eventually need to see her in person to maintain our friendship in the long run... But it's a great substitute.

I'm not sure that we give enough credit to IM/Chat as a viable way maintain a friendship.. but while Nathan was in the hospital, it's almost all I did... all I could do. I have a friend who I have described as being "with me" during that last week of the hospital. That took place exclusively via IM conversations. Chat is wonderful, like that, though. It lets you get into deep conversation because pauses are allowed, whole thoughts are shared, and you can express emotions but not have to pay them with your physicality... It's a lot easier to say, "I think you are amazing" when you don't have to watch the other person wonder if that means that you have a secret crush. (And if you do have a secret crush, it keeps alive the hope that the crush is still a secret!) Though, to be fair, the reverse is also true and a bit more dangerous. It's a lot easier to write, "You really hurt me" than it is to say it... which also means it's easier to say very mean things in text format than it would be to say it when you have to see their face.

Another positive about chat is that I can connect with people at 1 in the morning when I would never really call them. But if I'm online and I see they are online... well we can hang out cyber-ly without having to hang out in person which would be harder and in some cases, rather inappropriate. This is a huge bonus for me as a crazy extrovert/night owl.

I guess I just don't see a problem with being a generation that's more aware of/ focused on written communication. Maybe I am more awkward socially than the generation before me... but in my mind all this text and writing isn't the cause, it's my solution.

Thoughts

The other day I put on a shirt that used to be too tight in the arms and it wasn't anymore.

Yes!

I haven't hung out with guys in a really long time... and all the girls in my life are excited about "girl time" and while I definitely want to be included in that... I kinda wish there were more co-ed functions. But I don't want to always be the odd one out in a group of couples... We need to have a fabulous church mixer or something... Someone find me a matchmaker!

I did have writing group tonight, with two boys... it was rather nice... though I missed my girl counterpart.

There is just not enough biting sarcasm and quiet droll-ness in my life.

That said, there is lots and lots of sensitivity to my feelings and talking things through.

Huzzah. :s

Seriously. I'm complaining about this?? No wonder my subconscious doesn't know if I'm a guy or a girl.

But a balance is good, and I'm lacking a lot of balance right now.

I was saying today that sometimes I get afraid that I'll settle just because I get lonely... and the girls that I was talking to were just like, "Noooo. You won't. That's not in your nature. I don't think you could even if you wanted to. You know exactly what you want, and you won't be ok with less."

It was nice... reassuring that 1) I still don't always know myself that well.

and 2) My friends do know me that well.

I'm glad that if even if I can't predict myself, others can.

And in a totally unpredictable move, I think I'm gonna make lemon bars tomorrow... yeah, didn't see that one coming, didja?

or maybe brownies.....

V is for Victory!

I feel like a widow should have a lot to say about Valentine's Day, but I don't know that I do. I had a really happy day. I liked seeing all the flowers on facebook, I got a lot done at work, I wore pink and knew what day it was, but it's the happiest Valentine's Day as a single gal I think I've ever had, honestly.

I do like a day that celebrates love. Yes, this particular day is over-commercialized (Rhonda, I say that for you.) But the idea of this day is not a bad one... hey, lets everyone in the world celebrate love.

I had a great night. Natalie invited me and Kara over to her house (her husband was working late) and we hung out and talked... and talked... and talked. It was great. Everyone told their proposal story, cause we're girls and that's how we roll.  But, my, we talked about so much else.

But it was just really great... and I didn't feel sad that I don't have a specific Valentine... I mean yes, of course I would like to have someone to hold hands with and be overly mushy with and swoon over... but I'm feeling pretty content with where I am... I mean I don't seem to have enough time to take out my trash as it is, so maybe this is just my time in life to be busy and God will bring someone along when He doesn't have so much for me to do.... Or maybe this is just what it is... either way, it's ok... I've got plenty going on, and I'm good with that.

Is this what it's like to be a grown up on Valentine's Day?

Something humorous I noticed about myself tonight?

I've heard people say that the way to get a parent to like you is to compliment their child.... and I know that the same holds true of family in general. Well, I don't have children, and my family lives far away... but I tell you what, if a person seems to like my best friend, I instantly like them more. And if I can see that you think she's as hilarious and smart and slightly insane (in a good way) as I do.... Well, then I know we've got something in common.

No compromises

I realized something really important this weekend... and I'm not sure exactly how to express it, but as I said, it's important, so I'm going to try.

It *really* matters how a person treats the fact that I'm a widow. And even more than just a general person, it really really really matters how a guy who is interested in me treats the fact that I'm a widow. Because that's it- it is a fact. Nathan is a part of who I am. And he always will be. You can't be so in love with a person and not have that love change you... and it's certainly impossible to be married to someone without it changing you. The "two become one" isn't just about sex... it's about becoming a "we" -about being unable to be separated in people's minds. Being part of a whole rather than a whole unto yourself. Nathan is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me thus far. That's not to say that I don't expect more great things to happen to me,  and that's not to say I haven't had far more amazing people and events in my life than I deserve besides him... but as of right now, he's the top. 

So, as a good friend of mine put it when I was talking about it this weekend, "The guy you want to eventually be with will think that it's great that you had a great relationship before, and tragic that it ended, but equally great and redemptive that you two met."

All I could say after that was, "Exactly. Exactly."

I could never be with a person who thought that my marriage to Nathan is a flaw in me... something that he has to forgive me for and work past and find strength to overcome. If it brings up insecurities in him, I can understand that. If it brings up fear that I will compare him, I get it. If it brings up confusion or even jealousy, I'm prepared for that, but Nathan was not a mistake I made, and I cannot and *will not* accept someone who thinks it was or makes me feel like he views it as such. 

I was reading a book... well, actually I was skimming a book, written by two sisters whose husbands were killed in the same accident, making them young widows in the same moment. They talk about a lot of things that I recognize or understand about being a widow, but they also briefly tell about meeting their new husbands after being widows. The thing that is the clearest in both situations is that the men they would eventually marry understand that they have loved and lost and not only understand but respect that in these women. One wonders what he could "possibly have to offer you?" (Because he is younger and has less "life experience.") The other goes and finds her husband's grave site- not when they are getting serious, or even when they are dating, but before the girl had even really shown any interest at all, because he wanted to understand her better. He wanted to better know how to pray for her. Both of those are pretty extreme examples, and while I definitely appreciate the huge gesture of secretly going to find Nathan's grave, I don't *need* that. 

But reading it made me cry, because there is a part of what those men did for their wives that I *do* need, if I get anything at all. What I have to have- What I absolutely cannot compromise on, is that this guy, this person, this Mr. Right, he has to get it. He has to understand that part of what he likes about me came from my marriage to this great guy... and losing him was tragic and hard but that somehow God reforged me. He has to rejoice that I found such happiness, and mourn that I had to go through something so soul-wrenching, and rejoice again that the broken road somehow led us to each other. And he can never imply that I need to be forgiven for loving my husband... or he'll never be able to be my husband. I did nothing wrong. 

One of the sisters talks about a fear that loving another person means that you will lose the love you have for your first spouse. That somehow this new love will remove your old love from your heart. But that's not how it works and she makes the comparison to a mother and her children. Does a mother lose love for her first child when her second is born? Of course not- love isn't finite like that- Love grows. Each child carves out his or her own special place in our heart and love for one doesn't diminish love for another. Nathan has a place in my heart that is all his, and always will be.

Oh hey, Happy Valentine's Day, ya'll.

Fame- I'm *not* gonna live forever

So I think the world knows that Whitney Houston passed away on Saturday. It's very sad, though honestly it makes me think about how many other people died this week who didn't make the news... who lived smaller, simpler lives, who never took drugs, who never made millions, but who still touched the lives of the people around them... who made a difference... just not in that loud way that we know about celebrities.

They say that death is a great equalizer... but I'm not really sure that it is. Because I don't know who else died on Saturday... but I'm sure that hundreds of people did... who were far more important to their loved ones than some singer, no matter how talented she once was.

And I'm sure that Whitney was far more important to the people who knew her as a person than to the world who knew her as a icon.

I don't know that I want to be famous.... Fame seems to come with a whole lot of negatives... but gosh would I like to make a difference. I want to be able to touch people... to change people... to share something of myself that will last beyond me. Maybe that's an odd perspective for a lass of a mere 28 years, but I know better than most how little time we might have... I realized the other day that at age 13, Nathan could have said, "I feel like my life is half over already" and been right... And in a strange way I find that hilarious, because can you imagine an emo little 13 year old saying that? And can you imagine the reaction that kid would get? Rolled eyes at the very least. But that's the thing- we don't know what we have, or how long we have it, so we have to *live* today.

I'm a pretty direct person... I don't know if that comes from being an open book, or an extrovert or just really not liking to lie... but I think it's become a bit of a badge for me lately... because I don't want to waste my time, nor do I want to waste anyone else's time with stupid games or half truths or elephants in the room. If I'm honest and direct, then I don't have to have regrets. I've done all that I can do, and if it doesn't work or it isn't right, well it's probably not in the grand plan.

I just have to give it up. If I'm supposed to be famous... live a big life that touches millions, then that's what will happen.... but if I'm supposed to live a smaller, simpler life, and just touch those who touch me... that's fine, too. There was once a time I thought I knew the plan.... but I was wrong then, and if I tried to make a plan now, I'd probably be just as wrong.

Today is my grandparent's 57th anniversary. That's just as big of an accomplishment to me as selling billions of albums. I can only wish to recreate such a thing, someday.

I leave you with this Houston song: It was her last big release... and while it's not as flashy or showy.... I actually find it more relate-able and personal.

Patience is a virtue.

Patience is a virtue-- one that I'm likely to eschew.

But I shouldn't.



I think I have found where I'm going to move-- and it may even be as early as the end of March. Here's the most exciting thing- There is a garage. A garage, I say! I've never had a garage before. I've always had to scrape ice and snow off my car... except when Nathan scraped the ice and snow off my car, but I won't have to do that if I get one of these... it's an exotic luxury- to me, at least.

I want to move now, but none of my things are packed... I hear patience is a virtue.



My cold is not gone.

I'm ready for it to be gone.

but I once heard that patience is a virtue...



I'm looking for the sparkle... What is "the sparkle" you ask? Well, it's that flurry of emotions in your stomach when you see the other person. It's the shot of adrenaline... it's the ability to have comfortable silence rather than awkward silence. It's the dovetail of your senses of humor, it's the conversations that flow naturally... It's having a crush but still being able to talk to the person like they are normal. It's the je ne sais quoi that just works and you aren't really sure why or how. And it's the other person feeling it and recognizing it.

Accept no substitutions, exchanges, or refunds...

And don't accept anything if it isn't there.

The thing is I can list off a million things I find attractive... but even if a guy has all of them, if the sparkle isn't there... it doesn't matter. And a guy can be the opposite of all the things I find attractive, but if the sparkle is there, none of it matters.

So really, what I'm looking for is completely intangible... it just is..... or it isn't.

*sigh* Patience is a virtue, which I simply can't eschew sometimes.

Bacon-flavored Mayonnaise Dreams

Once a long time ago I discovered that they made bacon flavored mayonnaise called "Baconnaise"

I was grossed out... yet intrigued... especially after going to their website

And then watching this video

But the only way I could get it was to order a pack of 4 and I have no need/desire for 4 jars of a product I'm totally unsure of. So I posted a status update about it on Facebook and then laid down my dreams of ever trying some of this crazy sandwich spread.

Years pass.

and then today in Wal-mart I saw this

And I bought it and took it home with me and now I just have to decide what I'm going to try it on, cause it sure isn't going to be broccoli!

Moral of the story? 

Dreams come true, kids... even ridiculous bacon-flavored mayonnaise dreams.

Best of the best of the best, sir!

There is this scene in Men in Black where Will Smith (Edwards) is being tested to join the ranks of the MiB with some other people and Zed comes into the room and Edwards asks why they've all been brought there.  Then another recruit raises his hand and says, "Second Lieutenant, Jake Jenson. West Point. Graduate with honors. We're here because you are looking for the best of the best of the best, sir!

Edwards starts to laugh and Zed asks him why and he replies, "Y'boy, Captain America over here! 'Best of the best of the best, sir!' ... 'With honors.' Yeah, he's just really excited and he has no clue why we're here."

Well, last night I created a blog category called "best blogs." I've retroactively applied it to some of my personal favorites and most often viewed blogs, so if I ever do become wildly popular because I'm published and fans just can't get enough of me they will know where to turn for the classics. :) However if you have some favorites, feel free to share them with me and I'll add the label to them as well.

Anyway I just thought I should tell you.

I'm just really excited and I have no clue why we're here.

Blast from the past

Ok... I totally spoke too soon... I'm sick.. So I'm going to go to bed and try and fight this off before it gets worse. But I shall not leave you blog-less! The other day I was perusing my old xanga.

I know! Whaaaa?!

Anyway I was perusing it and I remembered this blog I wrote somewhere around Valentine's Day.  many years ago (7 to be exact.) It turned out to be the last V-day I spent as a single girl. So I looked it up... I thought it was an amazing blog back then... I don't know that I would say "amazing" now, but you know, there are still a lot of good things in it... and a lot of what I thought were subtle references to that boy who'd dumped me 2 weeks before *coughNathancough.* Turns out I'm about as subtle as a mack truck.

But anyway, without further ado, I bring you this blast from the past:

Saturday, 12 February 2005 

Today has been a day about Love for me. All love. Screw Valentine's Day. Today is my day about love. As previously mentioned it is my grandparent's wedding anniversary. 50 years.  That is a long time to be with one other person... How many times must they have argued? How many times must they have made up. How many times did they think, "What in the heck, why did I marry him/her?" Today is a day about love, and realizing that even after 50 years worth of life, you are still just as in love as you were, or perhaps even more.

Today is a day about love. I called my mom today to ask if she could mail spaghetti sauce and then again to find out what the temperature is for brownies. I called my grandma to tell her happy anniversary and she only asked about me and what I was doing. Even though I'm grown and hardly ever home they want to be part of my life, any part of my life. It is a day about love, and realizing that you don't deserve the people you have been blessed with.

Today is a day about love. My sister is 13 weeks pregnant, and I'm sorry to all those people who have heard me say it 400 times already. I'm very happy and excited about it. I wish I could see her, because I have no idea when you start to show, but she is glowing.. and she was-- even during Christmas she was.. I saw it but didn't say anything... a baby... yes, it's definitely a day to realize that even dealing with the millions and billions of messes and problems children bring, they are worth it. Ask a set of new parents.

Today is a day about love.  I got to hang out with some really great friends today. The best friends I've ever had outside my family. Friends that just call to say they are thinking of me... Friends who love me and that love my cooking and that love to eat and that love to just hang out with me, even when they hate everyone else in the world. Friends that have stuffed animal "friends" who *are* real. Maybe not to everyone, but to me, because they are aspects of that person. Friends that need them and that can do nothing and still have one of the greatest times ever... and who buy me ice cream for no good reason ;)

Today is a day about love. I had the worst headache this afternoon.. one that I can only assume was brought on by caffeine withdrawal... and I saw love, through the sudden hushing, the apologies and the willingness to quiet their loud impulses and to get away when they couldn't help but be loud.  They even listened patiently while I complained. In the head pats and the sympathetic glances and the way that voices took on soothing tones, I saw a day about love.

Today was a day about love. We watched the notebook tonight. Wow. It's sad, but beautiful. and I have to say that it didn't depress me... I half expected it to, with the ...turn of events my life has taken lately... But it didn't... It gives me hope... Someone will love me so much they will write me 365 letters, and it won't matter if I'm stubborn or stupid 99% of the time or if he's conceited and a jerk 99% of the time, because it's about love, and working on it every day. *L* ask Kara and Josh... I think they will tell you it's worth it. BTW girl I may have some ideas for songs... but they may be just horrible or not your style... I'll try to call tomorrow.

Today is a day about love... about knowing someone better than you do yourself and being ok with that. About being able to take whatever comes your way and just deal with it because you have backup. About having the same sense of humor and knowing what someone else is thinking... and being annoyed when you don't know what they are thinking... about always waking up, and not being sad, cause no matter what love doesn't fail you. It's a day about love.

Today is a day about love. I have diamonds on my window. I have more than I deserve, I have people who care about me and whom I care about. I have people whom I would give my life for, and a savior who already did, even when I am mad at Him... or trying to run from Him, who gave His life and knew that I might not even take it... today is my day about love... So love the people you are supposed to and don't be afraid... When you are 80 and senile I don't think you'll regret it.

Today was my day about Love.. who needs valentines?

The Cliff

Woke up from a terrible, but highly symbolic dream about Nathan and heights this morning.

I fell off a cliff and caught myself two levels down from where I fell, on a really steep slope that dropped off into clouds, nothing-ness, and certain death (I haven't played Skyward Sword for over 2 weeks... but it looked like the islands in the sky from that.. only real) ... I was laying down because I had both arms grasping the moss/grass that was growing on this slope and I felt like if I stood up I would lose my balance and fall over the edge... and I also knew that if I stood up I would no longer know which way was up and I'd fall off because of that. And Nathan was suddenly on the level slightly higher than mine. And he was tense, but super encouraging and talking me through every movement so I could get back on solid ground. I was so stressed out because I hate heights that I can fall from and break something, and if I fell now I would die. But Nathan was there, just keeping me calm and helping me through like he always did. Calling me sweetheart.

So I got up one level, and just had another to go, and Nathan was with me... but by this time I was totally exhausted and really afraid of slipping back down and it was a lot harder to not get vertigo and to just hold on and I asked Nathan to get to the top because he was closer and pull me up... and he said, "No, sweetheart, I can't do that. I'm not even supposed to be here. This is your task. You can do it." And then he was gone like he'd never been there and I was alone and my alarm when off and I woke up, totally terrified of heights that I wasn't on, and missing him.

Wow, sub-conscious, could you be any more heavy handed with your metaphors? I mean, come on!

And yet, something about it spoke to me and my situation in a way that I'd not really come at it before. Nathan's task was riding out the disease... mine is climbing back up the cliff with as much grace and strength as I can muster... usually just by slowly crawling my way up, because if I tried to stand and run, I'd fall completely off the edge.

A one-year blog like so many

Well, here I am...  this blog marks one year of blogging-- Well, it actually marks one year of blogging every single day. Yes, I missed a few days because of power outages and the like... but nearly everyday for an entire year. I think that is impressive... And I only broke into mediocre poetry a few times-- and it was at the very beginning just after Nathan died, so I think you all forgave me. Definitely an accomplishment. Both for you and for me. :)

By the way, I recommend checking out the new blonde "Willow" roast at Starbucks... I think it's really nice... I know a lot of people complain that Starbucks "burns" their beans, but this coffee isn't burnt at all... it's hardly got any of that bitter coffee aftertaste. If I were to drink a coffee black it might be this one... I won't, of course, but I'm just saying. I enjoyed it far more than the "green" drink my aunt made... which was basically spinach and peaches. bleh.  I wish I could buy the Starbucks white chocolate sauce... but you pretty well have to buy it in bulk and as much as I love it, I don't need bulk quantities just sitting around my place.

I love the smell of black tea.... they should make the smell of "Constant Comment" into a candle. I'd wear it around like it wasn't a home fragrance. Cause that is how I roll.

I think I didn't get sick. My immune system for the win! Though I'm still waiting a few more days to declare victory, lest I jinx something. *knocks on wood*

I moseyed around on the IKEA website today-- I hate that so much of their stuff isn't sold online. Or maybe I don't, cause I definitely put over 2000 dollars worth of stuff on my "wish" list. But I wasn't being particular either so I have a few different desks and such on there... though honestly I need to remember that we do have a "Wood You" here in town and I love their stuff, too, AND it's all wood, not veneers. I think my next purchase might be a couple of bookshelves... or maybe a dining room table so I can make my current "dining" room table into a crafting table... oooo a crafting table. I wish there were more Ikeas so that I could register there if I ever get married again. Maybe I should just list Ikea giftcards as a wedding purchase idea. Or Wood You... Most of my family would heartily approve of me wanting all wood furniture. Especially since I would assure them that I would not paint it.

I'm looking into moving (thus the sudden interest in Ikea) and I'd totally decided on an apartment and then I found this adorable little "bungalow" or at least it's called that... It has cheaper rent than an apartment and about the same utilities as I pay now. (I looked it up.) So I'm going to look into that now. Can't hurt, right?

I'm also looking into townhouse style apartments... seems like that would be good for losing weight-- having stairs. As long as I don't have to go up and down them with groceries... Although I just realized that the townhouses I was looking at have washer dryer hookups in the basement-- which would mean 2 flights of stairs to get my laundry put away... this seems slightly dangerous... I do miss stairs though. My dream house has stairs... several flights... my dream home has 3 stories... and a basement. And walnut trim, throughout... and secret passages... at least 3. and a turret... and the list could go on and on, though I've given up the idea of having a stream run through my living room. I thought that would be awesome in high school. But the secret passages... those still would be awesome.

My, I'm rambly tonight... well, I guess that's not so unusual... rather fitting for the one-year blog.

P.S. Please enjoy this word with your morning beverage of choice: flim-flammery.

mmmmmmm tasty word candy.

Sleepy

Long day---

Long drive and then a Superbowl party immediately after getting home...

Exhausted.

It was the best kind of Superbowl party too.. the one where you don't actually watch the game, you just eat the food and hang out with friends who also don't watch the game, and then it takes 15 min after the game to figure out who won, cause all you can see are screaming fans and both teams have basically the same colors. And forget it if you want to find out the score.

In the meantime, I leave town and my friends have a baby... this happened with Kara, too. I don't know how they manage it... I leave town maybe a total of 7 weekends a year, including holidays... Kara suggested I'm made of anti-labor matter. It's possible.

August James Carter has a lot of hair and is otherwise adorable, though I've not met him in person. I was around a lot of colds this weekend so I don't want to take any germs to new baby.. Don't know yet if I got anything or not... my immune system has been pretty kick-a these past few years, but it's gonna have to let something slip eventually.

Or I'll never be sick again... that would be ok, too.

In the meantime though I'm gonna get lots of rest... starting now.

Good Afternoon, Good Evening, and Good Night!

Chi-town Perspective

Went to Chicago today. Did a lot of fun things. Finally got to go to an Ikea... I loved that. I could spend all my money and my time there... and be very happy.... except for being sad that I had no more money to spend.

Ate at a couple of great restaurants and I now know I could survive in Greece... if everyone spoke English.

Also went to Willow Creek which is apparently one of the biggest (the biggest?) church in the country... and decided that I do not like big churches. They are great for some people, and I understand the appeal of being able to remain anonymous... but... I don't like it. I missed my own little church.

Also... I realized that while none of my friends would ever label me as a liberal- in comparison to a good portion of my family, I am. I mean I went to a state school... I didn't/wouldn't even consider a Christian college. I love Harry Potter and lots of other fantasy books written by people other than Tolkien and CS Lewis.

I love my family and they love me... it's just weird to realize how dissimilar we are in our world views. Luckily, I don't come from a family of judgers or it would cause problems... but it's like I'm a rebel, which for anyone who knows me is an entirely laughable statement.

I guess I'm just independent... which honestly, isn't something I'd have labeled myself last year... but I'm starting to realize doesn't make it any less true.

Kinda makes me feel better... as though everything that's happened to me hasn't really changed *me* so much as my perspective on myself.

So maybe Nathan would still recognize me.... and hopefully he'd be proud.

Bad Mamma-Jamma

I hate to cover up my post from last night. I worked for a long time on those drawings! This is the problem with blogging every day. You always gotta come up with new things to say and it's hard to top yesterday's.

I watched "The Descendants" tonight with my cousin. I kinda knew what it was about going into it. I didn't expect so much of it to take place in a hospital room, but I was happy to see it was a real hospital room... with the curtain dividers and duty charts and all the right things on the wall. But the reviews were awesome and so I said let's watch that. I kept hearing it was a tear jerker... so I had my widow supplies at the ready... but I watched it... and this may make me sound totally cold hearted, but I didn't even choke up, much less cry. I just kept thinking that I lived through that... I didn't have daughters but I didn't have him long enough to have  17 year old with him.  And I had more time to prepare myself for the possibility, but I didn't have enough time to have his friends come to say their goodbyes... He did not tarry... always impatient.

I kinda feel like Sarah in the Labyrinth... "Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered I have fought my way here to the castle beyond goblin city to take back the child that you have stolen from me. For my will is as strong as yours and my kingdom as great. You have no power over me."

Fear is the power that cancer has. But I've lived through an experience that was harder than this movie that everyone thinks is so sad. What have I to be afraid of?

Cancer can't do anything to the most basic part of you... it has no power over the soul.

So either that's why I didn't cry tonight or it's because I'm one bad mamma-jamma.

or both

probably both.

Travel Plans

I bring to you a blog in the style of "Hyperbole and a Half" (all illustrations were done with a track pad, because I forgot my mouse at home and also because I am insane.)

Here's the thing about me and travel plans. I always start out so reasonably.

I will pack the night before.

I will go to sleep at midnight.

I will get gas in the morning.

... and coffee.

I will leave town at 10.

I say "start out," because somewhere along the line I go a little crazy for no apparent reason and I get super ambitious.

I decide- I will pack 2 days before!

 ...and do laundry

....and clean all the things!

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-is-why-ill-never-be-adult.html 

Of course, those things don't happen and suddenly it's the night before I leave and I'm spending way too much time on the computer....

So I have to amend the plan... but I still believe in myself!

I come up with a new and better plan!

I will get up at 7!

I will pack in the morning!

I will shower!

...and get coffee!

...and gas!

I will leave at 9!

But planning the plan takes a long time... and then there is still the internet... so then I go to bed at two...

 and 7AM comes...

and 7:30...

and 8...

and 8:30

But I finally get up and pack...

I shower ...

I leave the house at 10...

And I still have to get coffee...

and gas.

So I don't leave town till 10:30.

One of these days I'm gonna learn, but it wasn't today...

Maybe next time.

Joy

Apparently Feb 1st is the day to blog. I had a ton of people write blogs in my feed.

So what I was going to say... What I have to say.

I've been feeling recently like I have so much joy... and I've been seeing people who don't. And I want to share, but I don't know how. It's not something that just rubs off if I touch a person. It's not something that I can give by talking about it. It's not even something that I can pass along through prayer. (God can, but not me.) And I don't get it, cause I want to share... so many people have been asking about me and concerned about me and aware of this time... and I thank them for it--- but I'm ok.

I was talking to someone the other day and they said that people who are happy are easier to grieve for in some respects... because people tend to grieve the person the way *they* would want.  And Nathan... he wouldn't have wanted tears and sorrow. Nathan *loved* life. Nathan would have wanted joy for me.

I saw an article today-- the 5 five regrets of the dying. And I thought- I don't think Nathan had many regrets... things that he would have changed about the way he lived. Obviously I think he would have chosen to live longer and experience more if he could've, but you can't really regret the life that you don't get. And he lived *so* well while he was here... and oh how he loved.

Sunday morning, I woke up at 8, and I lay in bed and I thought.. I wanted to be awake at 8:30... I wanted to be awake- but not in sorrow. And in that time I got this feeling... this anticipation... this awareness... and it will sound strange, but the only thing I can liken it to is the feeling I had that last week in the hospital... when I knew something bad was going to happen... only this time it wasn't a bad feeling... it was a good feeling. There is good up ahead... I just know it.

Since that day- since the bashing- I've just had a lightness of heart. Nathan would have loved his celebration. He's probably up in heaven jealous that he didn't think of it first. Or maybe he did and he told God to implant the idea in Kara's subconscious.

Anyway... I just feel... well-- not "healed" because I think there will always be scars and hang-ups... but I feel healthy. I'll never forget him. Never ever ever. But I don't feel so broken. I was *so* lucky to have been loved by such a man, and even if it never happens again... God will be enough... He will provide the friends, the people, the support that I need.

I wish I could give you a piece of that... a seed of that joy, but I don't know how.