A Slow-down

Yesterday's word was miscreant.

So I have some possibly sad news...

The days (nights) of me blogging every day are going to be coming to an end. I've been doing this for over a year and a half, and when I didn't have this stuff called homework it was really a do-able system.

But I have homework now.

A lot.

And I keep not getting it done.

In part because I just want to revise a story, not work on anyone else's critiques.

And in part because I need to sleep sometimes....

The thing is I only have so many hours and the extra hour (or sometimes way more) that a blog post takes me is an extra hour of sleep I'm losing, or homework time I'm not doing....

And I just don't have that many hours to spare.

I'm not going to stop blogging. I love it too much... but I think I'm only going to blog when I actually have something to say... I just can't keep up this pace and it feels like a waste of time to be making up things to say, when I have things I need to be doing.

I'm not stopping the word game. I'm not ending my blog. I'm just trying to avoid building a monolith to my own stupidity. So I'm instituting a slow-down. I can't feel guilty for just needing to go to bed. I can't feel bad if I have things I have to get done.

I just need to go to bed. I just need to get things done.

I hope you understand.

I'm grateful that you have so incorporated me into your routines, but the frenetic pace is overwhelming.

Believe me, it's not you, it's me.

Activate!

I laughed a lot today because of a Kara.

I have more to say on this subject, but it's 1:30 and I'm totally exhausted so I'm actually going to listen to my body and go to bed. (To sleep at 5:30, up at 9 today)

In other news, I bought a men's, pearl snap, linen, plaid-printed shirt and it looks totally cute on me.

Androgeny is so hot right now.

You'd never know it was a men's shirt, except now I've told you..

 Oh and the buttons are on the wrong side..  Did you know that they put the buttons of men's and women's shirts on different sides? The zippers are switched, too.

This has been your FFD (Fun Fact of the Day)

I have no idea why they do this, but I think we could make up better stories anyway. In fact, you should make up a story of why and post it as a comment.

Interactive Blog Activate!

The Kindest People in the Whole of Humanity

Here's the thing.

I think the people who read my blog are probably the kindest people in the whole of humanity.

And it's pretty safe to say this, because you are reading this blog, so I think you are one of the kindest people in the whole of humanity. (It's kinda a win-win thing for me to say, because it's both true and virtually impossible to disprove.)

Anyway I say this because of how you respond to me.

Whenever I write a blog post about being sad or lonely or upset, I always get this outpouring of compassion, encouragement, prayer, and love via comments on the post or facebook.

Nothing is forcing you to write me a note, and yet so many of you do-- and often times you are thanking me for being honest or open.... or telling me to hang in there... or that you think I'm beautiful

Really, it's me who should be thanking you. You make it safe for me to say exactly what I'm feeling, because you don't judge me.

You don't judge me for being happy, or shallow, or pensive, or upset.

You don't judge me for being inconsistent or contradictory.

Those of you who see me in person on a semi-regular basis don't assume that just because I blogged with one emotion that I'm still feeling that way when you see me, but you do check in- just to make sure that I'm doing ok.

I know I haven't gone at this grief process in a "typical" way... But I've never felt like someone thought I was too happy or was judging me for "getting over it" too quickly. And in the same vein, I never feel judged for those moments (like yesterday) when it still hurts as much as it did at 8:31AM that day almost a year and 5 months ago.

You all just accept me as I am and you don't judge me for my weaknesses. You love me for them.

You genuinely love this girl who I sometimes think is being whiney and indulgent and selfish.

It's all just really reassuring to a non-emotional girl wading through this emotional tempest.

Thank you for helping me create this safe space, thank you for loving me through the hard spots, and thank you for your prayers.

My life could be so much harder than it is, but every single one of you help lighten the load, and I'm eternally grateful.

Kit-Kats and Tattoos

All of the blogs that I read had pretty serious updates yesterday about the state of their lives. (The people's lives, not the blogs' lives. Blogs don't write themselves.)

I had a poem about a Kit-Kat.

I started this blog a few years ago without any sort of dedication and I wrote about songs and lemon bars and gummi bears. Oh and my ginormous head.

I've just realized that I *should* have been writing songs about lemon bars, gummi bears, and my ginormous head. That's a country music classic in the making... or maybe a dance club mix.

Then Nathan died and every post was so hard and heavy but super meaningful and important.

And now I'm trending more towards what it was when I began, and sometimes I feel like I should really talk about things that are more important, but it's really hard to write brilliant posts every day. Sometimes you have a day where nothing brilliant happens, and you just don't feel clever enough to make something up.

We are in the last 12 hours of me being tattoo free. It's happening Friday at 1. And then the era of mothers loving me inexplicably will end. Cause the reason why moms love me is my tattoo-free countenance, not my sweet personality and general similarity to themselves. One cannot be wholesome if they have a tattoo. It's a proven fact.

I jest. I'm hoping that moms still love me post-tattoo. (Especially my own.) It's not like I'm doing it on a lark or anything. I've thought and thought and thought about it. I've probably thought about it so much that I've over-thought about it and have made it all the way around to just thinking about it, again. And it's really meaningful to me... and it always will be.

And yes I realize this is like the third post I've made... or possibly the thirtieth post I've made, justifying it. But remember how I even want the Taliban to like me? Still true.

Crap. There is probably something in the Koran or the Taliban code that is against tattoos or women with tattoos, isn't there? You like how I just made up a rulebook for the Taliban?

 It suddenly occurred to me that it's possible that I'm being super racist right now, and I don't even know it. I'm going to stop talking about this now.

I guess the thing is some people, when they know that someone isn't going to agree with them, get super defensive and belligerent. Suddenly if you disagree with their opinion then you are *wrong* and you suck and they are gonna LET YOU KNOW!

I go the other way. If I make a decision and I know that you aren't going to agree with me I bring my own judgement into question. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I should rethink this thing... maybe I suck! (ok honestly, I have enough self-worth to not think I suck. But it's more likely that than that you suck. That's not true at all.)

And I guess, to bring this blog back around full circle, that's why I thought that I should write something personal and deep about my life... because everyone else did, so that must be what I should do.

Or maybe I'll keep writing poems about Kit-Kats. (God bless William Carlos Williams and his easily manipulated poetry!)

The Red Kit-Kat Bar

so much depends
upon

a red Kit-Kat
bar

coated in a glossy
wrapper

beside the white
toaster.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Mental left

I hate it when my posts feel boring. But some days I'm just not inspired. I'm told that even when you don't have something earth-shattering to write that you should still write just because it's a good habit.... so I do. But don't think I don't know it when I've got a dud on my hands. When it's a good blog post it just seems to flow out of me and it's so easy to just write and write. When it's a not great one I just sit and stare at the screen and wonder what I should say.

Sometimes facts about my day come out. Sometimes random thoughts come out... sometimes I wax sentimental about attractive celebrities.

** abrupt mental turn**

Waiting on God is hard. I'm like Jeriah in some respects. When he wants something and doesn't get an answer he repeats himself. And when he still doesn't get an answer he repeats it louder. And louder and louder and louder until he gets an answer. That's what I do, too... I just repeat myself louder and louder and louder... I guess I want to be like the widow... Ha, that's kinda funny... but I mean the widow and the unjust judge in Luke 18

1Now He was telling them a parable to show that at all times they ought to pray and not to lose heart, 2saying, “In a certain city there was a judge who did not fear God and did not respect man.3“There was a widow in that city, and she kept coming to him, saying, ‘Give me legal protection from my opponent.’ 4“For a while he was unwilling; but afterward he said to himself, ‘Even though I do not fear God nor respect man, 5yet because this widow bothers me, I will give her legal protection, otherwise by continually coming she will wear me out.’” 6And the Lord said, “Hear what the unrighteous judge said; 7now, will not God bring about justice for His elect who cry to Him day and night, and will He delay long over them? 8“I tell you that He will bring about justice for them quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on the earth?”

It takes a lot of perseverance to keep asking for something everyday until you wear the "opposing" party out. It seemed to be a lot easier when we were kids... why do you think that is? Are kids just used to not getting their way immediately? Or is that they have been working hard (and failing) at every accomplishment they've gotten (How often do toddlers fall down before they really master the whole walking thing?) Sometimes I wonder what Jesus would use as a parable if He were in the modern age. Would he talk about cell phone service and people who smoke and finding the perfect mechanic or would he still talk in farming stories and fishing stories.

**another abrupt mental turn**

The other day someone sent me an e-mail saying how much my blog helps them (and other people) cope with loss or grief... I'm always touched and amazed when I hear things like that. I'm so glad, to know it, too. I think that grief makes you selfish. It has to, in a way, because you have to take care of yourself to get through the pain, you have to be hyper vigilant of yourself and take care of yourself.... especially when it's your spouse, because no one else will be able to take care of you. So people finding some sort of help and comfort while I'm being totally self-centered... well it makes me feel a lot better about being self-centered for one thing.

** yet another abrupt mental turn**

I know that I have changed... I know that I have changed a lot from who I used to be... but I can't really tell how I've changed... But you don't go through a fire like that without having something burned away... I notice my own inconsistencies more, I suppose. For instance, I needed to stay home today and have some alone time. (I know, my introverted friends are sitting there with dropped jaws, right now.) And basically anything definitive that I say, I have to add a caveat to- usually within a few hours. I'm (strangely) more confident than I've ever been, and more willing to attempt to change the things about myself that I don't like. I might even have the smallest hint of ambition about me. I'm not sure that I'm better or worse than who I used to be... I certainly have far different things that I struggle with than I ever had before...

Tell me something, with all these mental right turns have I ended up where I started? Or did I just take the extra long way to take a mental left?

Frivolous things

I'm trying to write a blog post, but it's very difficult, because Rhonda and I are having a conversation on my facebook status update... currently at 20 posts. If that doesn't make "top news" I don't know what will.

PS I've changed my mind and decided my nails look like a peacock feather... Decide for yourself:

The camera doesn't do the purple glitter justice. Seriously? Is my blog going to devolve into an exhibition of what I do to my nails when I get bored? I hope not.


Yet here I sit... leaving up pictures of my peacock nails.

Today I put on a pair of pants that were too small this time last year... and now they are too big and I have to use the hair-tie method to make them fit.... and even then they are a little too big. The hair-tie method is this: Take a hairtie, double it over your belt loop and attach to button... Melissa taught it to me.

I also wore a shirt/dress that I bought on the 4th of July... at that time the undershirt didn't fit... It does now.

Am I the only person who thinks weight-loss feels like magic?

I don't think I look that much different from 6 months ago, but my clothes are telling a different story.

The other day I fit into a dress that I hadn't worn for like 8 years...

But I still feel the same.... I think I still look the same.

It's magic I tell ya.

The semester is over... I think I freaked a girl out today by saying that I hadn't taught school for 4 years.... I'm pretty sure I don't look my age, and most of the people in my class don't know my story. All I know is I said, "I don't know that was... (I looked at my former student who was in the class with me and was sitting next to me) 4 years?"

and she said, "I was a sophomore..." And other girl was suddenly leaning over to her friends, asking something. I've discovered the fountain of youth and it is college.

Here's the main problem with working and going to school at the same time.... I feel like I should get a break from work too... but I gotta go in tomorrow just like always.

When do I get to quit my job and support myself as an author?

After I get an agent and a multi-million dollar book deal?

That's like... 2012, right?

in brief

It's really difficult to reformat something that you've written in a way that makes sense to you into a way that makes sense to the rest of the world.

I battled with my storyboard for class pretty well all night and I still don't know if the end result is what it was supposed to be.

I'm the first person to post so I think everyone else is struggling with it, too.

I'm re-reading my blog-- I'm on June 22nd. I have a lot to say!

OK I know it's only 1AM but I'm really tired, and there is a lot that needs to be accomplished tomorrow, So I think I will bid you goodnight.

I want to read a book... but I don't have much time, because I'm trying to write one...

Quite the conundrum pie I've got here.

mmmmmm pie.

Less blogging?

I'm thinking about blogging less. I'm not going to stop by any means, but I was thinking today about how I'm kinda trying to start this book thing... and how much I write in a normal day anyway just for my blog and how wouldn't it be a good idea to channel my blogging discipline into some book writing discipline... I haven't actually made any decisions about anything and I know some people would be sad... but...it's a thought I had and I pretty well share every thought that pops into my head on here, don't I?

Ok, no I don't.

But I share a lot of them!!

I've recently discovered an enjoyment of banana peppers on sandwiches.

I was also recently told that every 4-5 years you get new tastebuds that like different things...

This might be why I suddenly started liking mustard  in college and more recently, mayo and disliking Miracle Whip for everything but tuna salad.

It might also explain my sudden love of lemon bars.

It won't explain my impulse purchasing of 8 small jars of fruit butter, but some mysteries are better left unanswered and just enjoyed... on biscuits.

Guess what came in the post today!

Guess who likes the phrase "in the post," today!

Maybe I won't stop blogging. I don't know how I could give up my outlet for the discussion of tastebud regeneration and fun phrase usage.

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.

Cancer is bad for so many things!

Omg why am I so tired? It's only 2 AM.

ahahahahaha. To anyone else that would be a ridiculous statement- to me it's just a normal fact of life.

Today I wrote and mailed some letters. I will tell you more about them next week. For now, suffice it to say that they were good letters and to some very special people whom I had no clue existed just 2 years ago.

Sometimes the days when you laugh the hardest it's because you are hurting the most and you need the almost-manic adrenaline rush of incessant giggling to get you through.

I'm not good with goodbyes. Not at all. I avoid them as if they are the plague... I avoid even the mention of them and only realize what I did 5 hours later.... I miss the fact that Nathan would have noticed, known what I was doing, and told me about it right away. He helped me to be a better person, and now I'm developing weird personality quirks that he didn't know about and I have no one to tell me I'm developing weird personality quirks.

What's a gal to do?

So my cousin called me today and left a message and this is what he said, "Hey! It's Budd... your cousin. I mean, of course it is. Who else is named Budd?"

I laughed quite a bit.

I love my cousins. Every single bloomin' one of them.

and not just because they have access to the most magical of all knit wear

The. beard. hat.

I think that might be the only beard I've ever loved.

Also I looked into joining the "blogher" network. If you know anything evil about them you should let me know, now. Because I don't really see how it could be a bad thing and I've seen several reputable blogs belong to blogher... might be a way to get my blog out to more than just my wonderful friends who are starting to go about their everyday lives again and no longer hang on my every word.

Fools, the lot of them.

And hey, if you are the praying type, could you send one up for dear Kara? She done had a beautiful incredibly darling baby boy who I like to think got to meet Nathan before coming on down here to be named after him. And who has yet to cry either time that I got to hold him, and who finds my voice so normal/soothing that it doesn't wake him up, even when his mom is *trying* to get him to wake up. Sorry distracted... Pray for Kara cause she's been having some infections. Everything right now is ok, just painful, and after having a baby without any drugs, I think that homegirl has probably had enough excessive pain for a while. Plus, obviously it needs to clear up before it does become serious. This whole having babies thing is fraught with so much more peril than I knew!

I think I need to go to the dentist, and I'm dreading it... Cancer was not good for my teeth.

"You Should Date an Illiterate Girl" ... or not.

Ok so Facebook had several people linking to this blog today. In fact, my dear friend Katie reposted it on her blog today as well. It's clear that Katie and I sometimes think alike, because I, too, was struck by a desire to blog about this piece tonight. Well, sorta... I like/identify with the "Date a Girl Who Reads" response (especially the lines, "Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but, by God, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does. She has to give it a shot somehow." and "She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day.") But from a link in the first blog I found the original reference material. And I like that even more.

It's entitled "You Should Date an Illiterate Girl" and it's written by Charles Warnke. (Be sure to go to the second page, don't just stop after the first page... I almost did and it would have been a very unsatisfying conclusion.)

I think you should read it in it's entirety, but I'm going to quote the last paragraph because I like it so much:

Don’t date a girl who reads because girls who read are the storytellers. You with the Joyce, you with the Nabokov, you with the Woolf. You there in the library, on the platform of the metro, you in the corner of the café, you in the window of your room. You, who make my life so god damned difficult. The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not. But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than I am. You will not accept the life that I told of at the beginning of this piece. You will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being storied. So out with you, girl who reads. Take the next southbound train and take your Hemingway with you. I hate you. I really, really, really hate you.

and I would now like to install a quote from that age old classic Ten Things I Hate About You.

"But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you.
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all."

You see all through the first half of the piece, this guy named Charles describes this sub-par life with a girl who cannot read, and throughout the second half he goes over the reasons why the girl who can read is worse than a girl who can't- why "a life in purgatory is better than a life in hell." And basically it breaks down to 4 reasons: 1) A girl who reads can call you on your bs and can tell when someone really loves her and when someone is just talking. 2) A girl who reads knows that there are ups and downs in life and will expect equal measure of both, but will move on if you only offer up a bitter and cynical attitude. 3) A girl who reads knows when something is over, and doesn't try to hold on to false hope. 4) A girl who reads will challenge you to be more than you think you can be and not accept less than your best.

What I think young Master Charles (I can call him young, he's 21!)  is saying is that a life lived in ignorance of what it could be is not that bad, when contrasted with a life made fully aware of what it could be and not ever being able to attain it. And sure, I get it. You don't miss what you never had. But it's too late for Charles. He knows what it's like to date a woman who reads, whose vocabulary makes his "vacuous sophistry a cheap trick," who, "knows, and rightly demands, that the ebb comes along with the flow of disappointment." I see this article veiled so thinly as cautionary advice to men to be an apology and love note in one. He respects the girl who can read... he likes that there is someone who can call him on his pompous overwrought language and knows when he's lying. He thinks it's good that she has enough self-respect to not accept bitterness as her due or to settle into a rut of acceptance. He admires her perception of the events in her life and her ability to move on when and if that time comes. He wants to be challenged and he thinks that the girl who reads deserves more than what he can offer.

Melissa has quoted a study on marriages lasting more than 50 years to me that says the thing most closely correlating to happiness in marriages is both parties considering themselves to be the lucky one in the relationship. What I think Charles Warnke is saying, is that he thinks that he would be the lucky one. He's "arguing" for a relationship in which one feels superior but what the dear boy really wants is to be the lucky one. Because, you see, girl who reads, mostly he hates the way he doesn't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

And that kinda makes me think he's adorable.

Inspired by: "I'm Gonna Be"

I hate it when I know there are things that I have plans for but I can't think of what they are at all. I feel like that is this whole weekend.

Went grocery shopping and cleaned out my fridge, just to fill it back up again.

And I would walk 500 miles...

and I would walk 500 more...

and I am writing really crazy...

Cause I have not slept enough.

A thousand miles is a long way to walk just to be the man who walked 1000 miles to fall down at some random chick's door.

This weekend, I think me and Dawson's Creek may actually finish the video boxes I started to trim out 5 months ago. Living on the wild side.

There are people who come into your life for just a moment, and then they leave, but somehow in that brief time they manage to set you up for the next phase in your life.

I'm really glad that all the people in one's life aren't so short term. The guy in that song isn't short term though, cause walking 1000 miles is a long term kinda of commitment. Nothing says love like 1000 miles.

This blog post, though? This thing is short term... cause I'm sleep-deprived drunk and soon I'm going to be slurring my words and telling everyone I love them. (Which is totally true.)

"I'm like a koala bear- I can't be sexy!"

Dang it! I forgot stuff in Katie and Jonny's fridge. Again. Dearest Katerina and Jonathan, I promise to rescue my things from your fridge upon the morrow. (Katie's name is actually just Katie, but I wanted to make it more formal sounding.)

Am I the only person who thinks a baked potato sounds amazing right now? As most of you read this in the morning, I going to guess, yes.

I'm considering switching up how my blog works and having "theme" days. A blogger-ess whom I read recently did this and it worked out well for her, and it might be nice for you all so that you get less whatever-randomly-falls-out-of-my-fingertips and more focused posts. But what do you think? Do you have an opinion? If you are pro-themed days what are your themed suggestions?

So tonight we broke out the chat pack and here is a fun question from it: If you had to describe your personality as a farm animal which would you choose and why?

I (as per usual with these types of questions) was stumped and made everyone else answer for me. But there was not a clear consensus. The suggestions were: A pheasant or peacock, a calf, or a show horse. I lean towards show horse, but I still don't know for sure. What do you vote for or do you think I'm a different animal all together? What do you think you are?

I love el chat pack for several reasons. I love long rambling late night conversations with friends, I think the answers are fascinating and you never know where your conversation will go. For example, tonight I learned that boys think girls' hair is sexy and the easiest way to change one's sex appeal is change one's hair. This came from a question about what what you would entitle a song about the things currently happening in your life. (and I know it's a shocker but none of this was related to my hair extensions!) Apparently everyone in the world knows this but I totally missed the train. It's amazing how clueless I still find myself, even though I consider myself a reasonably smart gal.

Recently a kid on the Glee Project said, "I'm like a koala bear- I can't be sexy!" Oh yes, this I can identify with this... at least I can some of the time. Skirts are also good for this. Guaranteed to make a gal feel sexier. And sides... Koala bears have babies... so.. I'm just sayin'...

You know, sometimes blog posts, like conversations, can end up in weird places. Only in blog form it's easy to retrace your thought pattern... and be amazed at how strangely your mind works. This is one of those times.

15 minutes and food pictures!

My voice is tired... This is what comes from singing for 5 hours straight while driving, singing musical theater tunes with your cousins for a few hours each night while you play a card game and then singing for another 4.5 hours on the way home... I took the last half hour off and put my ipod on some songs that I don't know as well so I wouldn't start absentmindedly singing like I normally do.... but I can't help but wonder if I will have a voice tomorrow or not.

It's so much easier to do housework in 15 minute stints rather than one big overhaul... problem is that I always have something to do even in 15 minute stints, so the 15 minutes are very condition specific.

You see, I also blog in 15 minute increments. Then I get distracted... by pinterest or making iced tea, or cookies or mischief. Oh that reminds me- mischief managed! ;) And wouldn't ya'll rather I blogged than do housework? Yeah, I thought so. What care you about the state of my kitchen? "Not one whit!" say you.

In other news, Pinterest has led me to this lovely blog, which has recipes... and more importantly pictures of food if you scroll down the side... Pictures of food that will make you very hungry if you scroll down the side... pictures like this

and this

and this

and this

All those mouthwatering pictures are taken by the blogger-ess herself, Monica, and wow do they make me hungry! Pardon me whilst I go rummage around in my refrigerator now... be back tomorrow!

The danger of blogging in bed...

The danger of blogging in bed is that sometimes you close your eyes, and then you wake up 7 hours later without having actually posted your blog.  Cause apparently that one click was too much for your brain to handle. Luckily my bed is big enough to hold a computer and me overnight... and apparently I was tired enough that I barely moved all night. This is not normal. 

Now to return you to your regularly scheduled blog post:
 
hmmmmmmm.

Things I remembered today:

I hate days where I just go and go and go... at least I do when I go by myself and not with a friend.

I discovered the music of Les Miserable from Dawson's Creek of all places.

I am Joey Potter.

There is nothing that I want more in this whole wide world than to be needed... to be wanted... to be considered a help.

I honestly don't feel needed that often... loved, yes... but needed? I mean I don't have any dependents, so there aren't any obvious people who need me... and as for everyone else... well I suppose it depends on your definition of need. Maybe people aren't supposed to need each other in the way I'm talking about. Maybe that's unhealthy.

Ok so I've left the heading of things I remembered today, but I'm filled with... something... ennui? teenage angst? restlessness? the desire to do something crazy and inane just to shake things up a little?... I blame Dawson. Hey you want to hear/ read one of the most influential moments on my early psyche from TV? Oh what's that? You don't really have a choice but to read what I put in front of you?? excellent.

JOEY:   You know, and I thought this is what I wanted -- for you to see me as beautiful. For you to look at me the -- the way that you look at Jen. But the truth is, I don't want that at all, Dawson. I want you to look at me and see the person you've always known and realize that what we have is so much more incredible than just some passing physical attraction, because you know what, Dawson? It's just lipstick. And it's just hairspray. Tomorrow, I'm gonna wake up, and I'm gonna be Joey. Just Joey. You know, the too tall girl from the wrong side of the creek.
DAWSON:  Wait, Joey, this is all new to us, and we should talk about it, okay? Because no matter what happens, we can't go back to the way things were.
JOEY:   Dawson, you've had a lifetime to process your feelings for me. And I can't spend the rest of mine hoping that you might throw a general glance in my direction in between your tortured teen romances with whatever Jen Lindley rolls into your life next. I can't do it.

It's just lipstick and it's just hairspray. Tomorrow morning I'm gonna wake up and I'm gonna be me. Just me. You know, the short girl from the wrong side of the creek.

I think the only difference between Joey and I have different levels of self-confidence... whether they are earned levels, well that's slightly more debatable.

my head hurts. I'm going to sleep./

P.S. Kinda ironic that this is tomorrow morning, isn't it?