From the many posts that never made it out!

Something in me went awry when I was a child.

When you think about the complexities of a human being's make-up, your head can spin. I think about all the family I have that I've never met. My grandmother's grandmother, born in Pueblo, Colorado during the time of canvas-covered wagons. My last name is German. Is my blood over there now running through someone's veins? All of these people. A part of me now.

I started this post back in November of 2010 and reading it now, I have no recollection of writing it.

Transparency

So, I went to my first counseling session last night. A real-life therapist, $64 co-pay and all. Her office was in a little old house in the middle of town. Soft-lighting and warm colors decorated the place. I felt pretty comfortable-once I got over the fact that I was actually going to a counseling session. I didn’t know what to say at first. When she asked me what brought me there, I panicked for a second, thinking to myself, “I don’t know! Why am I here? I’m a fraud. I don’t belong here!” I don’t have real problems…

Well, I began to talk.

She reassured me that I was brave and this was a good step. She is going to help me realize my worth, in how I think, how I talk, and how I let people treat me.

Apparently, I carry around some doormat mentality from time to time that isn't very healthy... To myself and ultimately to those in a relationship with me because they never know what I'm truly feeling or thinking if it affects them. I'd much rather simmer and suffer than affect you. I don't want you to hurt or have to change in anyway. But now, I am in a relationship that doesn't necessarily allow me to be that way and it is a struggle.

I need to learn to be better. That way I can be a better partner in this relationship, in turn, hopefully making us better. If I can speak up and tell him right away exactly what he did or said in that moment that hurt me etc., than I won't carry around so much grief sometimes. I will be free!

Well, all this psycho-babble talk makes me crazy too. But if I'm going to get married. If I'm going to attempt at spending my life with someone, forever, I want to be able to make it work. I want to be the best I can be. Love takes work. It isn't just a feeling, it is a long-suffering, life-time, load-bearing, unconditional thing. At least that is what I want to make it. Because the feeling part isn't enough for me. Feelings are malleable and mine are too easily affected right now.

I want to live a transparent life and I want my partner to as well. I don't expect perfection, but I expect the majority of my life to be joyful. I don't expect it to be easy, but I expect it to be with someone who will stick by me through the end. I think we've got a good thing going, but I think it's only going to get better.

It's a new day, everyday.

Soul Searchers. Searching for Love. Love. Love. Love is all around.

How do you trust? For the past couple of weeks I have just been saying to myself: "Just do it. Just--trust." Snap of the fingers and it needs to be so. Is it something I can teach myself to just Do? To feel? Is it a feeling of security?

I didn't realize how much I missed it until recently. Missed the feeling of trusting someone with my heart, myself. Didn't realize it was something I really was going to have to work through. It's been a while. I thought I had dealt with all those ick things from...before.... Guess that is what life is about. Moving forward and dealing with the kinks as the come. Hoping you meet people along the way that can be patient with all your crap. Sure enough they will have their own crap too.

I can give out all the rational, logical advice to my friends, and then when I'm faced with something I feel twisted and confused and sad. It's hard to know what is the right thing to do. How do you make it go away? I don't like to feel insecure or self-conscious. Both are unattractive. And not who I am to my core. I wonder if I will ever be "grown-up" enough to not let the outside world affect my emotions as much. Wah wah wah. I don't like feeling so serious and complicated. Maybe writing it out will help me to release the feelings. And they will be gone.

Someone. Teach me how to trust again.

Jumbled-Up Thoughts About Things

I spend a lot of time thinking about writing and not a lot of time doing it. Lately anyway. I've got about a half-a-dozen unpublished blog post beginnings stored up on this thing. Maybe someday I will get to them. Maybe not.

Writing is the only thing I have ever done that makes me feel as if I am supposed to be doing it. It is the right thing; part of who I am. So, why don't I do it more often?

I'm sitting in my living room right now, covered in a blanket, but my feet can't seem to get warm enough. It is so quiet when there are no cars driving by that I can hear the gas streaming into the fireplace in front of me as it gives life to the flames. Every once in a while I can hear the neighbor's rustlings, and the muted tv makes a faint buzzing sound that would probably drive a dog crazy if I had one. The cat isn't bothered.

I mute the tv rather than turn it off because noise hinders my thoughts, but lights and visuals do not. A powered "on" tv gives me security. Even now, when I wake up in the middle of a pitch black night after a freakish dream, I scramble to turn the tv on because whatever demons are hiding out in my room are sure to leave once they see that tv chases away the shadows. Or maybe it's just that it takes my mind off the demons...
I guess some childhood fears take longer to leave than others.

When I'm not alone, I don't get afraid.

Maybe I just need somebody to talk to.

I think about relationships. Do they really work like they say they do in all of those books and Sex and the City episodes? My gut tells me HELL no, (pardon the curse) because they all just want to sell their product-- they want us to believe in them. I get that. And I have to believe that every relationship is custom-built to you. You can't generalize. But I am guilty of the fear. Guilty of the complications, baggage. I hate that. But I am human. I pray that God is still leading me, despite me.

I'm 27 and I'm still trying to figure all of this out. All I do know is that I'm always looking forward to Friday and there's always a writer's commentary going through my head, and I'm always looking for somebody to love me, and yet I fall in love all the time.

I refuse to be the girl that settles for less than extraordinary, and I refuse to be the ordinary girl that someone just settles for.
I hope God can sort this out.



There are so many "maybes" in this post it makes me think I need to be more self-assured.

You're just as far in as you'll ever be out

I'm just trying to breathe lately. The thing we're supposed to do without thinking. Slow, rising and falling motions that keep us living. Life just keeps on going. Doesn't give you a break, or pause when you need it to slow down, to regroup, to ponder the big decisions that you have to make. Sometimes something happens to knock your perception of things over the edge. When you get there you wonder why the heck didn't you see it that way before. I always agonize over, "what's the right thing?" I know that is because, of course, the unknowns make me uneasy---Even if you have faith, that doesn't mean you won't have feelings.

Do you ever feel like you're spinning your wheels? Have you ever had the feeling of being stagnant? You've done all you could do. Veni Vidi Vici, or something like that.

After asking myself some hard questions, I've realized I have some pretty stupid reasons/answers that shouldn't hold much ground to commit me to something.

Alls I know is that life has gotten so busy I have to remind myself to breathe. I have been blog-absent for a while, and there's been good reason for that. Big decisions are in the air and I've got to make a move.

Just thinking out loud...

obtrusive language

i think i said the word "just" 3024 times in my previous post and i'm sorry about that. like the usage of the word "simply," "just" is not one of my favorite words. in general, it is my belief that sentences are JUST fine without the usage of either :)

Dear BCBS of NC Customer Service Department:

I just need to vent so my insides will quit bubbling with anger.

Okay, so maybe I'm overreacting and dramatic, but this just happened and I need to let it go. I just want to step on my soapbox and make a point.

I just got off the phone with a BCBS Customer Service Rep. One that seems to hate her job. Now, let me just say this. I have worked in customer service, worn the headset and had to fake-nice through millions of conversations with customers from all over. So, perhaps, if anyone can be sympathetic to this precarious and abhorred position, it's me. But maybe I'm also more critical as well. I expect respect. (And I'd like to think I always provided top notch customer service :) hehe

I am a nice person, no? I am polite, I don't talk down to or raise my voice. But this employee from BCBS pushed my buttons. Do not ever talk to me like I am stupid if I am paying (loads and loads of) money for the services provided by a company you work for. The CSR talked a mile a minute and sighed loudly with annoyance when I said, "I'm sorry?" as in what did you say? Her voice had a sound of disdain that made the temperatures rise a little bit. Now of course, I didn't raise my voice, but I matched her tone for tone (wrong, I know) and I could feel my face turning red. That is generally how it works too. People feed off each other. That is why it is important to keep things even-keel. I didn't call to cause problems. I am delightful until you give me a reason not to be, and even then, I'm still not yelling or making you cry. Sounds nuts, but really that does happen in the world of customer service. And I am tolerant, but I will only deal with so much before I'm going to ask for your supervisor.

And I have no qualms about putting my complaints about BCBS customer service on my public blog. They are a large company with more money than probably some countries have. I have been a loyal customer, despite rising premiums, for the past four years, and I expect, if nothing else, to at least feel respected when I call. Yes, I am entitled to it b/c I paid for it. Clearly, that doesn't mean I will get it.

Maybe this poor girl was having a bad day. I understand. But that is no excuse. At least talk to me like a human being, and I will be your best call all day long.

Sincerely,

Former BCBS Blue Advantage Customer

I suggest we learn to love ourselves before its made illegal

I haven't written in weeks but I've thought about it. I go through each day and something will happen that makes me want to write. I'll even start it in my head...think my thoughts as if I were writing them. Little tidbits that I'd like to think were clever...they usually never make it to the page though. I need to carry around a tape recorder.

Actually, I'm lying. I did write down two things this week. Two things that I had never seen before in "real life." Two things that made me feel better about being a human being living in Wilmington, and two things that brought me down a notch on the belt of cynicism about mankind. All this drama to lead up to a very anti-climactic ending, but I'll do my best.

I just started a new job, and I have a little hike to the parking lot because, well, as everyone that lives anywhere south of Castle Hayne in New Hanover County knows that parking is always scarce, even when you have an assigned space, which I do. Anyway, as I was walking across a little bridge to the parking lot, I noticed the beginnings of a construction site next to the road. It's so early on in the plans that there is still freshly cut grass, and the schematic of the building that "should open in 2012," cornering off the site. I happened to look down and saw a beautiful Bradford Pear Tree with bright orange, plastic fencing around it and a large white sign that shouted, "Warning: Tree Protection Area."

I nearly stopped in my tracks.

There is a development company that actually cares about the flora and the fauna?


A few days later, I'm traveling on my way home on one of those delightful downtown roads with the wrought iron fencing and pastel Victorian mansions with bragging historic foundation plaques on the front of it. The sky was perfect blue and the air was bright and light and the trees were just as poetic. There was a woman sitting out on the sidewalk with an easel in front of her. She was painting. It was so Mary Poppins. I didn't know people had time for art anymore.

It inspired me and reminded me. To slow down. To take time. To keep hoping.

We live our lives thinking we have to prove something. Perhaps that is the American in us because I really believe folks in other countries live with much less stress. I want to prove that I matter. That I mean something. That I am capable of doing something important. That I am worth loving. Isn't that what we all want? If that's true, I wonder, and my heart aches, thinking about how much we complicate things and mess them up and hold things back and stay so diplomatic. Diplomatic is good, but there is a fine line between diplomacy and being afraid to say what you feel. To anyone. A friend. A boyfriend. A parent.

When you figure out who you want to p r o v e things to, you see just who it is you are living for. It's an out-of-control place to be when you let your emotions be affected by others. Fair-weather superficial friends, a selfish and possessive boyfriend, or an overbearing parent. It's hard. But I'm sure I make it harder than it has to be. Seems to be in my blood line.

Eh.

I'm sitting at home watching House and Meatloaf is a special guest. Yet another thing I've never seen. My throat hurts more than ever as I have been diagnosed with Chronic Tonsillitis. I'm tired of there always being something physically wrong with me. My neck and face are swollen. I'm tired. Constant headaches. And it hurts to talk the later it gets. Wah. I hope the drugs work because neither me, nor my wallet can handle another surgery this year. It really does amaze me the high threshold of pain women have though. I amaze myself. I have been pretty miserable for three full weeks with this and still I started this job, played with friends, and mustered the strength to think and write this blog :) But it is waning.

I just started the drugs yesterday, so hopefully pain will subside. It would just be nice to carry on with life without it. Another Wah. Please people, feel sorry for me. :)

Well, this post is all over the place, as my blog posts tend to be. I guess this is as close as you can get to being inside my head. It really is a good thing to help process...to write things out. For me anyway. What I'm getting at is I hope I'm reaching that point in life where I realize I don't need to live for other people or strive for approval. I know I am the last to get anything and slower to mature in certain areas and that I am slightly ridiculous to care as much about this kind of stuff as I do...but I want to give it up. I don't want to give my time or emotions to anyone who doesn't have as much at stake as I do. If you are in any kind of relationship with me, you have to know that you're getting all I got. When you don't reciprocate, I have to back off. I know everyone's doing the best they can, but I'm not wasting my time anymore. I have to remove myself from hurtful situations. Even if nobody but me understands.

Wow. And all of this from seeing that there's someone in the world that still cares about saving trees, and that someone has time to paint on an easel on the sidewalk.

Well, well, well.

Passion. It's a complicated word. Society uses it a lot. We throw it around casually, maybe every day. What are your passions. Who are you passionate about. Passion passion passion.

I kind of get sick of hearing about it.

But it is a big deal to me. As I have learned that often things are a big deal to me, and they aren't to most other well-adjusted people. To me, big deals are being in agony or experiencing dramatic personal turmoil over something. Alls I can figure is that I am sensitive, sometimes overly, and I've been told, tender-hearted, too compassionate. Whatever.

Passion. I take it seriously.

Some of the biggest insults I have ever received have been questions regarding my passion for something. I felt so betrayed. Didn't these people realize I have given myself over for this cause/relationship?
I wanted to scream at them, "WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT FROM ME? YOU CAN'T HAVE MY SOUL!"

Well, this made me look seriously at myself and at how I was projecting. Something must have been off. Well, clearly. The two incidents that I am thinking of now have proven themselves not worthy of my passion. But nonetheless I am writing about them because it still affects me. At the time, or in the present, I don't want someone to misjudge my intentions. How can I convey my strong feelings? Don't I already wear them enough on my sleeve? Would the situations have turned out differently if my passion was perceived as such? And how was it perceived instead?

Well, I think it's just in these cases, the situations were just wrong, and out of my control. And like I've said, and all of you know by now, I think way too much about something and it comes up again from time to time. But I think part of my lot here on this earth is to write about things. Whether or not it is good or bad, I know I have to do it. Hah. And whether or not I have readers...well, I guess that's not part of the deal. :) I can write for myself, just fine. :)

How's that for passion?





FYI webster.com's entry on passion:
(notice the first one. intense. kinda makes you really think seriously about how you apply that word...)

Main Entry: pas·sion
Pronunciation: \ˈpa-shən\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Late Latin passion-, passio suffering, being acted upon, from Latin pati to suffer — more at patient
Date: 13th century
1 often capitalized a : the sufferings of Christ between the night of the Last Supper and his death b : an oratorio based on a gospel narrative of the Passion
2 obsolete : suffering
3 : the state or capacity of being acted on by external agents or forces
4 a (1) : emotion (2) plural : the emotions as distinguished from reason b : intense, driving, or overmastering feeling or conviction c : an outbreak of anger
5 a : ardent affection : love b : a strong liking or desire for or devotion to some activity, object, or concept c : sexual desire d : an object of desire or deep interest

forgive all the typos from the previous post

chalk it up to pain meds, distractions, and no willingness to re-read and edit. sigh...

Trying to fight against a defeatist attitude

So, at the moment, I am holding down my couch with I Dream Of Jeanie playing on my tv, my kitten asleep next to me, and a box of tissues close by. On top of recovering from surgery, my allergies decided to act up and cause me to cough and lose my sense of taste. Every cough vibrates through my body in the worst, violent way, causing pain to my incisions and abdominal muscles that were cut through. Gross but true. I've been slightly embarrassed about the procedure I had to just go through. I can only say that I'm embarrassed to face a truth about myself and have the whole world know. But since I'm sitting here with nothing to do but recover, and since I've almost given up on any kind of story-writing, which I used to love and do often, (maybe I'll bring this up later) I decided to blog about it and face my issues head-on.

I had my gallbladder removed.

Is that funny to you that this embarrasses me? Well, it sounds routine enough. It's a common procedure. It is mostly preformed laproscopically. (sure I didn't spell that right) And it has a quick recovery time. So far, all these things are true for me. I'm recovering quite nicely, with no complications except for this pesky allergy problem. I woke up from the anesthesia with no problems, which was my biggest fear anyway, and the worst of the pay was really just the first two days after. I'm only mostly sore now when I get up and down, cough of course, and stand erect for too long. Reason for that is b/c the biggest incision was through my belly button and whatever muscles are underneath there. Sorry if this is too graphic. I usually share too much.

Anyway. Gallbladder disease is usually caused from a fatty, high-cholesterol diet, or it can be exacerbated by taking hormone pills. When I started getting really sick from the symptoms, I was confused b/c for the past year and a half, my diet has been anything but high-cholesterol and fatty! If you've known me or read my blog for the past few months, you may remember that I've lost a considerable amount of weight by using Weight Watchers. Sadly, I've been at a halt at 46 pounds for a few weeks, but am hoping to get back on the strict wagon asap. I need to get off about 25-30 more. Well, I guess I am vain. Or ashamed. But I hated telling people I was having my gallbladder out b/c I was afraid they would think all I did was sit around eating Quarter Pounders and French Fries. Not True! At least for the past year and a half...

Well, it's never been true, but I have to admit my eating habits did go off the deep end. They had to, for me to gain so much weight. It stemmed from depression and low funds. Cost money to buy healthy. And after I stopped crying all day, meaning having lost my appetite to eat, I gained it back full-force. Clearly. But those demons have been faced and I've made leaps and bounds of progress since those dark days. Hard for me to type this for all to see.

The point is that after about a year of the excruciating episodes of pain, I finally find a doctor that doesn't just want to throw drugs at me and figures out the source. After he can see I have lost 46 pounds, he tells me that it is quite common for folks to have gallbladder problems after losing weight. Ah! Lightbulb. Makes me feel better to know this piece of information. So, my confusion is lessened by this fact.

But I only got in this condition b/c I ate too much bad foods all my life to this point. That is what I was embarrassed to admit. Some people go their whole lives eating badly or worse and never have problems like I did. My body just couldn't deal with it all that well. So, now that I'm getting healthier, the problems show up as evidence of past sins. Oi.

Well, all of this rambling to just admit the truth, and yet perhaps dispute some misconceptions about gallbladder problems. As I've said, it can also be caused by birth-control-pills, hereditary, and even what ethnic group you hail from. More info, look here: http://www.gallbladderattack.com/gallstones.shtml

Okay. I guess that is done. Truth faced and out there. I used to be really fat. Now I'm just sorta fat. I hope one day to be much less fat. :) When I get closer to my goal weight, I'll release the numbers. Until then, no one but me and my scale and my doctors know that truth.


Now, about me giving up on writing....well. Another blog. Another time. I feel too defeated now to even go there.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

OKAY, so I know it's been a while, but I just read an article that catapulted me up on my soapbox. "To Charge your iPod, Plug in Your Jeans?" There are people starving and dying all over this rock and yet there are some nerds in a lab somewhere spending money to mix chemicals together so that everyone can charge their expensive iPods or cell phones THROUGH THEIR JEANS? Because that seems like an important piece of news right there. I know everyone has been waiting on a solution to this "charging problem."

Ridiculous.

Um, hello. Last time I checked, iPods and cell phones came with chargers that you plugged into the WALL. With no problems. What other stupid, easy thing are they going to make even more stupid and even more easy? It's this mindset and direction that add to Americans being lazy and fat. I'm not trying to hate on Apple, people with iPods or cell phones (as that would be nearly everyone including myself), or even those smart people that sit in rooms and figure this crap out, but come on. I know the world must go on and it will with or without me, but with all the suffering in it, and especially right now, do we have to read about some new sciencey fad called "energy textiles"?

Well no. I guess I could have stopped reading the article. But I read it with my mouth open, disbelieving that it was actually something r e a l. I'm sure some people think it is cool. "Hey look guys, my jeans can charge up my iPod!" No you freak. I want to wear my jeans and I don't want them to have any kind of electrical charge. They should lay dormant, covering my legs and have no energetic qualities whatsoever except for the fact that I am wearing them.

:)

Sigh. Okay, coming down now. Shew. That was a quick one.

Circles

Do you ever have times when you have so much to say, and yet you don't know how to say it? Are you ever afraid to say something? Do you ever try to figure out why you are afraid to say it? For me, it is because sometimes, when you say something, it changes everything. Why am I afraid to change it?

That is the question of the day. It frustrates me to no end. I guess I have been somewhat passive, or maybe lazy. Same thing? Because sometimes, I know or can see what needs to be done or said, but I just let time go by. Hoping the situation will just go away or improve without my words. Perhaps it's conflict that I'm afraid of. Yes. I do believe that is a big part. Is that something that is supposed to get easier? For me, I think it's gotten worse.

I think it is good to be meek. Meek means "enduring injury with patience and without resentment," and "deficient in spirit and courage." That sounds good. Peaceful. Biblical. Somehow I don't think what I am is meek. I think I'm a mess! :)

Lately, I am feeling tired and not content. I know what that means. I'm off of the Center. My focus is off. Story of my life. But I know that's what life is...up and down and all that cliched stuff. Doesn't really make it any better though.

Maybe someday I'll do what needs to be done.

Chuck Norris doesn't actually write books, the words assemble themselves out of fear.

Hah. Too bad I'm not as awesome as Chuck Norris.





Happy Thanksgiving Everyone.

If you are reading this that probably means I love you!
:)

So much

So, I am privileged with very large windows in my office. I may have mentioned this before, but my desk is positioned against nearly floor-to-ceiling windows. As I type this, I have the natural light streaming in and at certain points during the early day, it makes me squint as I stare at my flat screen. I can't bring myself to close the blinds. I guess sitting at this exact spot is what has made me so thoughtful of sun beams and light these days. If I look directly out, there is a sidewalk and brick street that run perpendicular to the Museum. I can't quite see the corner of the street because there is a screened-in porch of a house next door that blocks my view. Often times I will see bikers, and walkers, and students from the nearby high school trudging along there. Today there was a man on a motorized wheelchair going on this path. Strictly coincidental that he was in a wheelchair, but today the lighting was just right and it appeared he was traveling right into the sun. Going to the light, as people say. It shown down so brightly, I imagined him just disappearing right into it. It was peaceful and quiet to watch. I wanted to go out and just stand in it myself. To feel the warmth. I need the warmth. Everyone needs to feel it.
Now the sky is more gray and the sun has moved. When I look out the window, I see my clear reflection as if it were a mirror. When the sun comes out from behind the clouds, I can still feel it though. The heat takes over. The shine shades my computer screen again and makes my blond hair look shimmery and gold in the reflection. If only, she says. If only, so many things. We say.
I'm concerned with myself. Surprise? I feel emotion has drained. Feeling emotion. I want it. But I don't have it. Am I numb? It may have disappeared from decisions I have made. I have buried the feeling. Under things I haven't even begun to uncover. While people read words trying to understand. Grasping for belonging and happiness.
When we are small, I think we all have this notion of wanting to be in the light. Pure. Whole. Iluminated. Even if we don't know what it means. We spend the rest of our lives striving towards it. Hoping to shine.
I want to shine for you. You. Who's You?
So many you's vying for attention...
I'm not sure I've met You yet.

Ramble on.

So, I'm kind of thinking that checking your online dating profile on the free sight you signed up with for kicks back in February on a Friday night is semi-pathetic. Okay maybe full-pathetic. But I digress. Little do yall know I am going to the movies later to see Couples Retreat so the night is not quite a loss. This is actually the first weekend night in over a month that I have had free time to sit on my couch and watch the ANTM marathon on Bravo and worry about my cat breathing loudly in my lap. Is it normal to hear them breathing? Can they have asthma? Anyway. It feels good to blog. It has been a while since I have formulated thoughts to paper. It is amazing how busy life can get and for what? It's not about doing what you love its about loving what you do. Or at least that is what I am trying to do at the moment. I don't have the luxury of doing what I love. Just yet anyway. It's not as if I am waiting for my life to begin, but I'm waiting for something. I guess I'll know when I find it. The online dating thing has been, well, interesting. I've written a little about it before on here, but I've learned a bit more about it since then. Something I should pass on: although I imagine I am a late bloomer in all things "dating," and most of you probably think so, so you may already know this, but when a guy says he is not "that guy," he is in fact, THAT guy. Do you know what I mean? I have this unfortunate quality of wanting to believe, and that usually gets my poor little heart in trouble, but I am getting more hard up about that. It ain't so on my sleeve anymore. But it's still pretty close to the surface. I haven't changed who I am for this world. Anyway. "That" guy is the guy that says what he thinks you want him to say and works on playing a game more than wanting to get to know a girl. I have yet to really meet one that I feel safe around. Safe meaning comfortable and maybe homey. Right now I keep coming back to the three. In my life so far I have met in person three guys who I think are perfect. One is married that I knew from High School. One I haven't seen in three years but am hoping will be at the next UNCW After Work Alumni thingamajig, (yep here's hoping), and the other recently was my knight and shining date at a wedding where there was gonna be people that I'd rather not see. But all was fine and I survived. Knight and Shining is unreachable for me. But again, I digress. They say girls inadvertently look for dudes that are like their fathers. Hmmm. Married guy--cool and aloof-- def nothing like my daddy. UNCW Alumni guy, maybe the most like my daddy. Knight and Shining probably slides into second on that one. Nice guys. Genuinely gentlemen who have actual unselfish thoughts. Really? Men can be UNSELFISH? haha. Why yes, Betsy. yes. some of them have that ability... Well my daddy works too much and has lost a lot because of it, so that is the one thing I may look for the opposite in a fellow. (on purpose) Sigh. So, I need some butt-kicking regarding my nonexistent writing career. Please someone kick it. I'm overwhelmed. I don't even know where to start. I've had a quarter-life crisis week about it. But luckily the week is over and I have to leave in 10 minutes to go pick up a friend and go to a funny movie and laugh and forget my troubles. Ramble on chicas. And chicos, I guess. To be politically and genderly? correct? :) Ramble on.

Addendum to Last Post

Slight Figure of Speech post includes a youtube link that I know some of ya'll don't get if emailed, just to fyi.

Slight Figure of Speech

Avett's New Album, "I and Love and You"
B e s t T h i n g E v e r

Here is a little tasty treat from it. Enjoy.




They say you've got to lose a couple fights to win
It's hard to tell from where I'm sitting
They say that this is where the fun begins
I guess it's time that I was quitting

A slight figure of speech
I cut my chest wide open
They come and watch us bleed
Is it art like I was hoping now?

They said "I hope that you will never change"
I went and cut my hair
They say "Don't take your business to the big time"
I bought us tickets there

A slight figure of speech
I cut my chest wide open
They come and watch us bleed
Is it art like I was hoping now?

What did you expect
And what did you forget
That to live you let go of me with each step
It becomes a progression I won't let regret manifest
To aggression
Are you to assess what I've been? What I am? Or become?
Did you stop to accept how pathetically dumb
It can be to
Attack those around 'cause you're
True to color, a town, a time, or a place?
It's not you, it's not mine
And besides it is gone
And you never will find it again
But I don't want to fight
I just ask let me be
I won't give the chance to be my enemy
So go home
Think it through

A jet plane and a big idea
I jump over the sea
What ifs hot on my trail
But that can't catch me, no

A slight figure of speech
I cut my chest wide open
They come and watch us bleed
Is it art like I was hoping now?

[ Slight Figure Of Speech Lyrics on http://www.lyricsmania.com/ ]

Millennials and Other Reverie from Me

So, at the staff meeting today, I guess as part of some county-wide HR endeavor, we started this video about "Generations in the Workplace." Apparently there are four groups that people can fit into: Traditionalists, Baby Boomers, Gen Xers, and Millennials. This is probably not news to any of you, but I wasn't aware that I was what is called a "Millennial." Before I started this blog, I Googled to make sure that Millennial is also the same as Gen Y, and yes it is, and that term, I had heard of. But I had never really given much thought as to which box I would check if asked. Since I was born after 1977, I fit into the latter category. However, here is some controversy as to when the cutoff year is. I've seen 1977, 1978, 1980 to 1998 or 2000 so I just chose one to start.

The thought of generations is interesting to me. Different pop culture events defining each group. But as someone pointed out in the staff meeting, these broad definitions are trying to encompass, oh I don't know, 80 billion people or some crazy big number like that. Most people have characteristics of each generation. I think knowledge of technology, just being the most defining characteristic of age perhaps. (According to this video today.) But even that statement is stereotypical. My traditionalist-grandfather could kick my baby boomer-mother's butt in using a computer. So eh.

I'm not so sure I even really dig this whole pigeon-holing people into these restricted age slots. Just another way to be different from each other. Separate. I'm all about togetherness, man. haha. I do understand the need for it for statistical purposes and what have you, but bringing it up in the workplace isn't exactly necessary. I think most people with enough common sense to be working at a job can understand how to interact with someone of a different generation. (But maybe I am assuming too much?) I never ever thought about it but I guess now, me and my neurotically conscientious self will hope I am not offending someone from another generation when I speak! haha

Everyone in the meeting had to laugh. The lady narrating the video was probably a Gen Xer or Millennial, and I had to laugh thinking, yeah, some of the kids in my generation could probably make a drinking game out of how many times this lady has said, "generation" in the last five minutes...

Ahem. Um, No, I never played games like that in college...

Well, poking fun or not, it was conclusive in the meeting today that some folks never grow up no matter which generation they hail from! We laughed, and went back to our work stations. A nice mix of Baby Boomers, Gen Xers, and I think a few of us are Millenials and maybe one or two Traditionalists, co-existing just fine under one really, really, old roof. (oldest museum in North Carolina to be exact, est. 1898...)


Anyway.


I've decided that my face looks different when there is somebody in this world that wants to be with me and I know it. I'm sure this is all inside my crazy head, but I studied over pictures of my face from my Vegas trip last year and I think I looked very, very different just a few months later when I was single. (Of course during that time there was a lot of other horse ca ca going on professionally and personally in my life to make me look haggard and depressed...) But I looked like a very happy, little girl. Child-like, in the Vegas photos.

By the end of 2008, I had gained a lot of weight. Since March of 2009, I have lost 39 pounds and counting. (Can't seem to push past 39 rrrrgh.) So, I know this weight loss has something to do with my face looking different, but I think there is just a general aura of happiness or security that comes from knowing there is someone. Even if it is a sort of someone that isn't an official anything and I probably shouldn't even be blogging about it but I am. And no. I know self-worth does not come from any man and I am perfectly okay now being with just myself, that's not what I'm saying, but I'm not gonna lie-- it does feel good to have plans, a conversation, or even a message from someone that is thinking about you at that very moment. Even if it is nothing more than friendship...




And I was just listening to the Penguin and they played this song. A song that was there for me a lot last summer and I still love it. So, I'm leaving you with it, even though I could only find a live version to post here:



And I'm now aware of the fact that the emails don't include the youtube vids, so sorry, if you want to see/hear the music you gotta click on the link! Enjoy!

Literary Stretch

Have you noticed a difference in the light? It seems so much brighter to me. Like we are getting closer to the sun and its rays illuminate the contents of the earth as if everything was in the spotlight. I notice it mostly when I am driving on certain roads. Perhaps it is the vastness of the road that can embrace more of the sunbeams instead of repelling them. The sky is bluer than the robin’s egg and the white clouds seem more like puffy whipping cream, with a sun-drenched backdrop so vivid, it forces a smile to my lips. The green grass that lines the asphalt happily points upward as it soaks in its nourishment from the light flowing down. Everything is in its right place, giving and taking the way it was meant to be. Being surrounded by this brilliance makes everything seem so clear. I feel as if I am at home, driving down a country road with nothing around but pastures and pine trees. But I am not. I am in a city that sometimes has a way of feeling strange and familiar at the same time. This isn’t the place where I grew up, but it is the place where I became grown. I guess that is why I noticed the light. It reminds me of simplicity and innocence.

Enough Said

Sales tax went up today. I'm sure you all know that by now. But it is now 7.75%. In some counties it went up to an even 8%. I wish NC was one of those states that didn't have sales tax, although I'm sure they make up that money in some other way. I guess it doesn't really interfere with my life too much until I make a big purchase, i.e. a computer, or a piece of furniture etc. That's when not having sales tax could really save you. But that is a given. I have the unfortunate ability to state the obvious. My manuscripts have often gotten the comment that I use unnecessary wording sometimes. Words get stricken through. Sentences get tightened up. I have gotten better with this because I am more mindful of it. But I'm not so sure if I will ever be a very polished writer. Eh. I am what I am. I have put it all on the backburner, which isn't good. I do get to write at my job, and then I write on here for my sanity, but I've taken my fiction hat off for a little while. I finally got my thesis back in the mail. It looks like a book; black leather, hard bound, with gold-embossed letters carefully placed on the spine...
IDLE WORSHIP BETSY LYNN KISER

I haven't had the strength to go back and read through it. This book, this thesis encompasses five semesters of pain-staking work. Sometimes I feel like I need to minimize it because I'm afraid people do. It was a studious, rigorous, prestigious, and sometimes pretentious (as the world of academia often is, especially literary crowds) program that I went through. I don't know why I feel the need to justify it. Anyway. The thing with writing is that it can always be changed. It is never final. When it is published and bound, that is as final as it gets; however, there is a creative writing class somewhere picking it a part, critiquing it, changing it. Dissing it. (But I guess the writer in that case gets the last laugh as they are cashing their checks...:) Writing is a subjective profession. Hah profession? It's often tortuous. But a loving torture, yes. People don't realize how much time and thought and care is poured into just one sentence during the revision process. You should never wonder why most writers are sensitive.

Here I go again speaking like I know things... :)


Well, I've spent some time in my new digs. But not moving in the big stuff just yet. To be honest, I haven't even packed a thing. But I plan on doing a lot of that during the upcoming long weekend.

This post is essentially pointless, so I apologize for that. I have some things swirling that are more purposeful to say, I'm just tired and I don't want to think too seriously right now. So, hopefully I will rest tonight. I couldn't sleep last night because I was mentally placing the furniture and all the stuff on the walls...

Urgh. I really don't want to pay more sales tax! The state will just mismanage the money and everyone will continue to rob Peter to pay Paul and soon there will be no more Medicaid or school buses, oh wait, they've already gotten rid of most of those!! What's next? School nurses? Oh wait, schools are already sharing nurses. Hmmm. The county has been having all of this stuff going on and "town hall" type meetings. The other day, we all had to go down to the library and watch a simul-cast (?) of a meeting. Did you know that some DSS employees are working 15 hour days just to get their work done because of their loss in staff/resources? Did you know that they are NOT getting paid overtime? Did you know that is illegal? Yeah, that question/problem was raised in the town hall meeting by an employee, and the Co. Manager kind of stumbled and said, err, uh, he'll have to look into this incident. Yeah, the state of North Carolina is breaking it's own labor laws.

Stepping off the soapbox now. Goodnight.

It's Official

I am a homeowner. Or homeMOANER as one of my co-workers calls it...meaning I now have all the crap and maintenence that goes along with owning a home! hah. But that is okay. Yesterday when I left work to go to the closing, another co-worker said, "Wait, I need to take your picture!" I was thinking...um, what? She comes back with a Polaroid camera and said, "Yes, you need to join the wall. Welcome to the world of debt!" There is this one wall in her cubical covered in Polaroids of staff and she pointed out some that were taken of folks before they closed on their houses. She is currently trying to think of a funny caption for mine... I am in it posing with the checks for the attorney...But I got some keys in exchange for those pieces of paper! Yay. Not to sound braggy or anything. :)


Lots to do...


And well, this has nothing to do with anything, and I know this song is a few years old, but it is in my head right now and I love it so enjoy:

Whirlwind and XXX in the Olive Garden.

Yep I'm still coughing but feeling better. Had an inpromptu sort of weekend. Visitors from the big city of Cullowhee came to stay until Saturday afternoon. We had a nice time seeing the sights and the huge waves from Hurricane Bill, and eating lots of food. I gave them a free tour of the museum, and introduced them to the George on the riverwalk. Hopefully, they had a good time. :) By the way, Desi was allowed in my room, so that rule is now half-moot. I will now allow him to sleep in there until the wee hours of the morning. I kick him out before he starts going wild. He has already caused some destruction.

Anyway, Saturday evening, I headed to Raleigh with a friend who was just as sick as I was, so we had a nice coughing chorus going in the car ride. We had a late dinner at Olive Garden's all you can eat pasta night, (I know I've left out about a million hyphens here but they are not always so convenient to type) where we all saw something we'd never seen before, much less at an Olive Garden. Picture Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman, in her trashiest hooker garb and take off about 10 inches of fabric in all the wrong places. Yes, we saw a woman wearing a cut out "dress?" with holes on the side so her side/belly were exposed. It was short enough to be able to tell she was NOT wearing underwear and as she walked away, you could see things one isn't supposed to see, much less, in an Olive Garden. She didn't look cute. I've seen scantily clad gals in clubs, but this didn't even come close. It was beyond. Everyone turned to look and stare in AWE and disbelief. I thought I was hallucinating. It was like a trainwreck. Couldn't look away, although now, it is sad the image is ingrained inside my head and the rest of the people that saw this sight at the Raleigh Olive Garden.... The hostess said they were out celebrating her birthday. Her man friend or boyfriend or customer or whoever, led her around carrying glasses of wine. Leaving a trail of snickering, stares, and open mouths behind them.

Who am I to judge how someone dresses, but you have to have common decency. We were in a family establishment for crying out loud. It wasn't the strip club. IT WAS AN OLIVE GARDEN. Sorry, I know I've said it a few times but I am still in shock.


Pause to recoup.


Well, Sunday, we drove to Virginia for a family reunion. Well, I crashed my friend's family reunion. Then back to Cary for a concert at the Koka Booth Regency Ampitheatre, which might I add was a killer venue that I hope to go to again, to see O.A.R. With tickets that were bought instead of won. My friend won a radio contest to see O.A.R. little did we know, for the show in Charleston the night before, so instead of being bummed, we created our own fun and just bought the stupid tickets for the Cary show. It was worth it. Great show. Not as awesome as the Avett's, but O.A.R. is nice and jammy and happy.

Sigh. Breathe. Funny how things happen all at once. I'll have a jam-packed, unbelievable weekend and then nothing for weeks. Cough.



After much going back and forth and blah I may end up closing on my place this Thursday, as in yes, the day after tomorrow. WHIRLWIND. So, I may be a homeowner by the time this week is over with.........

I'm not sure why I felt the need to post my weekend's events. Maybe to show that I can still have fun and that I like spontaneity to some degree. Adventures are great and I think important to keep you young and stable. Did I say stable? Am I stable? hah. Yes, I think things are becoming steady :) I think sometimes you just gotta do it. You want it, go get it. Have fun.



Stay tuned.

Too tired and foggy-headed to think of a clever title.

I've been home sick today. Saturday night this sickness just slammed me and I've been wiped out since. I never like to call in to a job, but sometimes it is necessary. Today was definitely one of those days. I tried to go to CVS, and that proved to be disastrous. So, up until about 3pm, I slept on a heating pad in the hopes that my ear drum will release the mounting pressure behind it and I can hear again. I am thankful to have my Desi because being sick and living alone can sometimes add to the feeling of ick. I am feeling somewhat better at the moment, but not much energy and still coughing-convulsing, and the whole not being able to hear out of left ear, slightly annoying.

Anyway.

During the day of Saturday was delightful as I met up with an old college friend (haha college was four years ago) and we painted pottery and ate sushi and tried some sake. I'm glad I was able to do that before the ear closed up and I was reduced to sleeping and coughing for two days.

The home inspector went through the condo and found the heating unit "inoperable" so if the lady doesn't fix it or make concessions, that could be bad for me. However, my realtor is very optimistic b/c hey, she will have to fix the heat for any buyer. So, here's hoping.

As my friend and I were painting out our carefully chosen ceramic pieces, we were talking and she decided that we are at that age where we are finding out who are true friends are. I think that always makes people squeamish because of course everyone wants to be considered a true friend. I think that most people do the best they can, myself included. Sometimes, you have to meet people where they are and just realize they are doing they best they can.

Everyone's been hurt. Everyone's been lied to. Everyone's been talked about behind their backs. Everyone's said hurtful things. Everyone's been angry. Nobody's perfect. But sometimes people are toxic. And sometimes cut ties are necessary. I think that may be what my friend was talking about. The realization that when bad things happen some people scatter, some people laugh at you, some people talk about you when you're not around, and then some people call you to see if you're okay. Or better yet are sitting beside you while you cry or scream or whatever.

It's the people that back you up, no matter what. Stand behind you or beside you. Are perceptive enough about your feelings to know what to say and what not to say. But they don't lie. We would be lucky to have one person in our lives that care that much. I am lucky. I am thankful.

Little things mean so much to me.

Where Bad English Meets Travis Tritt

So, I woke up this morning with an 80's hair-band song in my head. I don't even know who it's by, or the name of the song, I just know some of the lyrics go, "When I see you smile...I can face the world. Ohh oh...you know I could do anything..." After a quick google just now, this song is by the group Bad English.

Was this in my dream? What is it with me lately and these weird dreams that I have? Who wakes up, and the second before your eyes open and you are fully conscious, starts singing an 80's rock song? Perhaps there was a late-night commercial pushing
80's rock song compilation albums and this one played while I dozed? The tv was off when I woke up this morning, however. Hmm. The mystery continues.

My kitten has discovered my bedroom. We play a game in the mornings now because once he hears me stirring a bit, he starts to cry at the door and push his little paws as far under the door crack as possible as if to say, "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE for the love of cheezits let me in there. I'll just die." So, once I open the door, he shoots past me, to the corner of my bed and hides for a second. I go about my business while he explores the room a bit, and shortly before I leave, I coax him out with some treats, and he is easily directed back to playing in the living room.

It is never hard to get him to comply. He is very very easy-going and chilled out for the most part. Perfect. I've had cats all my life, (except for the past few years living here) but I grew up with them, and I never let them in my room at night, really b/c they would scare the crap out of me while I was trying to sleep. (Jumping and playing and getting in my face and all that.) Desi and I have shared a room once, when I took him down to Southport to meet family, and after that restless night, it will be a while before we try it again~!

I plan to let my bedroom door open when I move into the new, bigger place. I can't wait until he has more room to roam around and play. I will also start to take Zyrtec so that I will be able to sleep at night restfully, after a cat may or may have not slept on my pillow just hours earlier and left his dander lying around...

My closing date is set for September 2, so I have a lot to do. Putting in floors, painting, oh and that annoying packing and actually moving thing. I turned in my notice at my rental place, so it is done. I will have to be moved in before September 30! :) Surreal, kinda.

A lot happens fast sometimes.

Someone recently said I should feel "accomplished." Like I normally do, I shy away from any sort of compliment but just like with finishing graduate school, that is true. It is okay for me to feel accomplished with my life to this point. Part of my emotional masochistic thing though, thought that this person was pitying me because I don't have a husband or a family yet, but yet despite that "humiliation," I should still be proud.

Maybe I'm projecting an insecurity, but I have learned not to trust as much as I used to. (or is it too here?)

Anyway. I'm not so sure I would look at having a family as a "goal" to accomplish anyway. It's not like school, you can't just go out and do it and get a degree at the end to show for it. Not something you can check off some list of to-do's, even though I know some people operate that way. (not anyone in my immediate circle...we are smart, strong women~ hear us roar rrrrraraaarrrr! or something like that.)


When it's right, it will be right and I'll know it.



I've been struggling with this humiliation thing lately. Does that mean I have too much pride? And it's not with everything, just particular things that come up from time to time where my emotions take center stage. Dangerous place for emotions to be. That's when irrational things are thought, done, said, exposed... Blech. I gag every single time I clean my kitten's litter box. Every single time. Actually vomited once. It's the things we do for love or "love" that humiliate us in the long run.

Well, I realize how things I say can make me sound on here. Eh. Take it or leave it. It's me. :)


"It's a great day to be alive
I know the sun's still shinin when I close my eyes
There's some hard times in the neigborhood
But why can't every day be just this good?"

Why it can be just this good, Travis. It can! :)

I'm an adult, yes?

I did the most "grown-up" thing I have ever done today in my 26 years of life...I signed the contract on the condo I just purchased! Crazy!

Very excited. And believe it or not, I will be paying less to own it than what I pay for my current rent. Crazy!

It's a buyer's market out there...so look around!

I guess this also solidifies that I will be in Wilmington for a while. Which is okay. I've been here for nearly a decade now. It is home. The beach is my home.

Well, I just thought I would share my joy. It's been a good day, Tater.

Mea Culpa

These words were in my dream last night. I can't remember everything, but a man with a face that I can't make out, was saying them to me. Mea culpa, my fault. I'm not sure why my brain decided to remember that part. I've only ever heard the saying a few times in my life because I am not Catholic or well-versed in latin. Who knows.

I could say mea culpa to all the people in my life who have seen me try to walk the Christian walk. Mea culpa that I am such a horrible representative of Christ sometimes. I continually put my foot in my mouth and say the wrong thing. Continually give in to certain things that I know I shouldn't. Patterns that still need breaking. Sometimes get dragged "back" (or let myself get dragged back) when I have been diligently moving forward at no matter the cost. But thankfully God can work through all my mess anyway. Thankfully he is bigger stronger and better and can handle me. Can handle all of us. Because everyone who walks trips and sometimes falls.

I am not perfect, but it's okay. This is me acknowledging my screw ups and not feeling guilty. There is a difference. I know the truth and I will do the best I can to walk in it. Even when there are setbacks. Hopefully people will be as forgiving as God is.

Maybe this is why I remembered the dream.

Talking about something or nothing at all

So, I look back over my blog posts and some of them probably would have been better suited for private journal entries, not something public, but instead of being embarrassed and removing them, I will leave them. Hey, it's me, take it or leave it.

Some of them are even written mere days/weeks ago and I'm now thinking, wow this sounds like a very young, very sensitive and maybe sometimes whiney girl! Well, I may be some of those things some of the time. True. But everyone is something some of the time :) I just happen to write about it. You may not talk about yours. You may or may not relate. It's okay.

I use the word 'sometimes' quite a lot. Wishy washy words used by someone that doesn't want to step on anyones toes. I think that gets better the older I get.

I think some of the desperate pleadings I have written about on here have actually helped...I'm in a better place. Its...stable. I don't have so much insecurity about who and where I am right now in regards to past things. I know God hears my pleads and prayers. I know he's helped me through. And No, I'm not naive about that. Not having faith can be so hopeless and dark. I've been there. But now, feelings aren't so treacherous. Emotions aren't so irrational. I'm not perfect. But I'm okay. I have let it out. I am free.

Swept Away

The night I've been waiting for finally came and went... I got to see the awesome Avett Brothers, live and up close and personal at the House of Blues in the delightfully tacky yet wonderfully wonderful city of Myrtle Beach. (pardon the long runon sentence. but i am a fan of the runon sentence :) and my adjective choices kind of sound like the back of a Hooter's t-shirt, yes? Well, I guess that kind of fits right in with the air of Myrtle Beach...gotta love it. I've gone to MB all my life...)

Anyway. They played my two favorite songs, November Blue, which you can see/hear on an earlier post, and Swept Away, the one below. LOVE. LOVE. LOVE. I actually love them so much, I wrote them into my thesis. haha. So, I was a very happy girl.

Also walked out on the beach at midnight and got to marvel at the huge high rises and catch a few fireworks. Makes one appreciate Wrightsville Beach a little more.

And I had the best company hanging with me :)

Good time was had by all. I heart the Avetts.

This is all that I can say right now

I'm thirty pounds lighter
I just got a kitten, named him Desi
The tiny thing is sleeping in the crook of my elbow as I type this
I'm looking at condos to buy because its cheaper than renting nowadays
I work at a place I can be proud of, and they let me write some
There are some people that truly care about me
And I intend to focus more on them, instead of the ones that truly don't
I have accomplished academic things and made it through traumatizing things where I've had to forgive and be forgiven
I have eggs to eat for breakfast
I live in a city that has beaches, and bridges, and the loop
I have family
I have the early mornings, sitting quietly on my porch
I have a very, very, very patient, loving, long suffering, and compassionate God that I'm fighting to believe all that he says is good and true about me and my life.
I'm supposed to focus on "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—I'm supposed to think about such things..."
These words are supposed to change the inside of my mind. And I really want to let them. Renew and transform, minute by minute.
This is all that I can say right now:

Nothing's Shocking

So, I had a night from hell last night. Pardon my french. And so now, I'm thinking what kind of idiot, what kind of emotional cutter, what kind of loser, then writes about it and posts it on a public blog that anyone could google my name and find? Hah. The only person that would ever google my name is me :) But it is fun to see where your name comes up in the world...



Anyway.




Writer. I try to sound clever. I try to use words to connect people, to make them see something they would have otherwise missed. Sometimes I do a better job of that than other times. Sometimes I get good reviews. Sometimes it feels like someone kicked me in the stomach. I don't cry anymore though. I think everyone cries after their first critique because you're not prepared for how personal it feels. No one explains that at first. At how much, even if you hide behind the word "FICTION," is still YOU dripping off every single word, every single mispelling, every single grammatical error. I write so people can see right through me. I think transparency can be a good thing. An open and honest thing. I write because I don't know how not to. But life is personal. If you don't take it that way, then you are detached, and floating, and careless. Which sometimes, I wish I could be more like that... Is that an easier existence?

Writers are here to think of all the crap like this that non-writer people don't have time to or care to. Sometimes I envy that. I notice everything. I can perceive someone's disposition really well. I really truly usually can understand completely where someone is coming from.

I write about nonsense and waste time, trying to be meaningful. Trying to be revealing. With each passing day I learn something new about myself. As I guess we all do in this journey cliche.

I invoke the words, "Nothing's Shocking," today because last night, I had a realization that I have a SICK imagination. I don't even know where some of the thoughts come from. But I can remember back when I was about 11 or 12, and my mind just starting becoming this precipice of ongoing ideas and stories. Precipice is the word that came out, and after looking on webster.com I see that it also means, "a hazardous situation." Perfect. That is a perfect way to describe the toxcity that takes place behind my eyelids sometimes. These thoughts never become my reality, so no I'm not completely insane and pardon my insensitivity with that thought, but I don't think I can shock myself anymore with what I can come up with.

Usually they are the kind of stomach punching blows-stories, the emotional cutting stuff...leading my mind into a path of thoughts that end up controlling my emotions. Last night I was angry. Wanting to punch through the glass, angry. Yeah, and apparently I think I am important enough to write about it here.

I don't think I'm quite brave enough to talk about here exactly what stories my mind was playing last night. However, perhaps one day they will manifest themselves in a fiction piece, maybe. "Sick" usually sells well in this world. But then again, maybe now in this world nothing truly is shocking anymore. We spend our days revering a deceased pop star who had suspicions of child molestation, and people are fighting over tickets to gawk at this tragedy. We spend our days on computers tapping away getting carpal tunnel, hoping that someone will care enough to read our words, look at our pictures, add us as a "friend." And don't forget the importance of the moment when you change your relationship status on Facebook---whoa now. Oh the Drama. It's all about love and acceptance. Understanding and misunderstanding. Good timing and bad timing. Getting what you want?

What I want more than anything right now is understanding. Validation. And blahblahblah new age thinking I should validate myself. Christian thinking God gives me my validation. I know that to be true. I *know* so much in my head. How come it takes the rest of me so long to catch up?

My motivations sometimes are revealed in my Sick imaginations. Usually they are the reasons for the thoughts in the first place. Motives are tricky and 99% of the time self-serving because that's our fleshy nature. How can I pray to be better?


Intermission.

Last night, and some of you heard from me, sorry about that, I woke up every hour and woke up once to a bug crawling on me. I jumped up and in my sleepiness, hopefully killed the bug and I violently threw up my covers to see if there were any others. So, naturally, I am now afraid I have bed bugs or spider infestations or something disgusting and really I just wish I could burn that bed and get a new one anyway.

Act II.

Writers remember things other people forget. We tend to groom things and pick apart things, and milk things, and hold on to things. Do we horde things? Think we are entitled to things? Are we ridiculous? We make things important to the world, or just to ourselves. Some of my friends think I am nuts for what I hold onto as important. What I remember. Who I care about, even now.

A Christian says your worthiness comes from God, a heavenly Father. On earth, we get a lot of our worth from the men in our lives, our father figures. If he was there, if he wasn't. Your relationship with your dad will manifest itself in your relationships, most of the time. Mine's always been quick with making other people happy, sacrificing to placate others, when he was around. That's just part of it. But it's something I've been thinking a lot about, part of my "hellish" night, part of my anger-making visions of broken glass and tearing rooms like in a music video. It's too bad that most of the time, our earthly fathers, or lack there of, become how we see God. And these are not my ideas. Everything has already been written about.

So, why do I write?

Hah. Well, I could keep going on forever. Making myself feel important, validated, like I have something meaningful to say. Maybe I'll reach someone. Maybe I'll make someone think. Writing like I know about things, life, love, God, music. Even this little blog is a slice in my worthiness pie. (I think that stupid metaphor came from the same story-time-imagination place in my brain...)

What makes you feel worthit? You can't let any part of it come from how people have treated you. You can't. If you do, you'll have to become a writer and start a blog and have out-of-your mind pity parties, while your friends call you nutso and have absolutely no idea where you are coming from. :)

At this moment in time, I don't care how I look to you. I hope that lasts, because that actually is shocking.

End Scene.

"Just what God needs, one more victim..."

Yeah, I have some perspective, and I wanted to post something else on top of that last whiny, pitiful, and knowitall blog.

So, I'm back to music. haha

I love Tori Amos. She is captivating. Wonderfully weird and beautifully tragic. I still welcome the strange and unusual.

Enjoy.

Thursday Morning Pity Party

Yeah, so I am realllly tired of falling in love with someone that cannot and will not love me back. It is the most tortuous and painful existence. Can I just tell you that this is the story of my life? I feel like Kate Winslet in The Holiday, except of course, in the movie, she ends up finding someone better and all the pain was worth it to lead her to her newfound love and blahblahblah. And I'm sick of movies putting crap like this in my head b/c it NEVER EVER happens that way in real life. At least not in MY life.

Even the movie He's Just Not That Into You, becomes a freaking ironical love story when everyone is all paired up in the end. And all along, the Justin Long character is blahblahing about Exceptions and Rules and Signs and Wonders... I get the point...someday one girl will be one guy's exception to his rule, the stars align, or some other cockamamy BS, and they find love.

Please.

Yes, today I am bitter about this. It will pass, but at this very moment, this is my truth.

I was thinking last night, and do you know that five times, FIVE times in my life, I have had friends that have decided to somehow be with someone that I had feelings for? And three of those times, it was the same guy, just three different friends of mine. I have had to sit there, in the same room sometimes, while my "friend" would sit on his lap and make out with him, right there in front of me! Talk about emotional masichicism? Wonder how I got that way? Wonder why I am so used to apologizing for my existence and making myself and my feelings less important? I have been shown that THEY ARE. Wah.

I know these guys, any guy, does NOT give me my self-worth. I know this. But if you can show me one woman, no matter how freaking 'progressive' she is or claims to be, if the one calls that her heart is attached to, she will answer and do what he pleases. I'm the same way, so don't worry, I'm talking about me too. But you know? I think this is okay. I think this is how it was supposed to be...a man should be a man, and should take the lead. He's Just Not That Into You in all of it's glory, even shows this.

But why does the ball ALWAYS have to be in the 'man's court for us ladies? Why do we always have to be the ones heartbroken and waiting? And I realize it can be a choice. But love is love. And I have made a choice to move past the past regardless, but my point is now, I am waiting to meet someone new. I want to meet someone new that I connect with. Nothing is more unnattractive than a desperate-seeming woman, and I hope that is not how I come off here, but I am just being honest.

I'm just tired of being alone. And I know I am not, I know God loves me, and I pray, I beg Him for it to be enough. And it should be. But I'm not perfect. And it's hard b/c in my fallen and ridiculous little life, I have felt a tiny bit of human love, and from that tiny little touch, of course, I long for it again.

I know now, as I have stated in previous posts about love, that from here on out, I will be more careful and more guarded, or I will end up in this same place. This familiar, gut-wrenching and tortuous place.



So, now that I've had this pity party, and it is out of my system, I can get on with my day and ready for this long weekend ahead...sure to be full of sun, and fireworks, and food, and nights out with my girlfriends. And I have great friends now. Don't worry, those other 'friends' that have shat on me in the past, are not in my life anymore... I do have some respect for myself, and dignity, afterall.


Happy freakin Independence Day.


:)

Quick Musical Treat

Since I keep blogging nonsensically about music, and talking like I know things...check this out:



I first heard this on the Peguin and after some extensive googling, and youtubing, I found this video. This song really grows on you. It is amazing b/c this is a blind married couple from Mali, Africa.

They have a website!


You have to love the Penguin if you live in Wilmington.
AND ps, I emailed them today to ask more info about this group, and I just heard back from them as I am typing this. So, another reason in which they rock...

Penguin Site





I will write more later. I have had some things swirling around in my head that will end up here soon... Hah I know ya'll are so looking forward to that... For now, it's bed time, watching my man Vincent D'Onofrio on the Law and Order CI marathon :)

Funny the way it is

"...When you think about it. Somebody's going hungry and someone else is eating out. Funny the way it is, not right or wrong. Somebody’s heart is broken and it becomes your favorite song..."

Yeah. Life is like that. I don't know if it's exactly ironic. But it's some kind of funny. Sadly. Bittersweet. Conflicting.

There is a Widespread Panic song called "Ain't Life Grand." I have a pic of the Grand Canyon as my phone background that I took when I was out there last April(when life was much much different for me.) The banner across the top of my phone says: AintLifGrand b/c that is all that would fit. The song of course is being ironic. Sarcastic. Bad things happen. Life's grand like that. I keep that banner on my phone as a tribute that time in my life. A reminder that attitude is everything. Perception. Beliefs. Authenticity. And it's just also a cool line to have above a picture of the Grand Canyon...

Anyway, forgive that sort of meanderance; the DMB song that I'm quoting at the beginning of this post has a similar message. I have to explain that I have always had a love/hate relationship with the DMB. It was one of those things, like Rainbow Sandals, that I avoided and refused to like b/c the masses did and I thought I was cool and rebellious and all that baloney. Until I listened for myself and felt the music and learned more about the band and got past the stupid singles they had out in the early 90's like "What would you say" or whatever. There is much substance and just good music. (I'm not as die-hard a fan as I once was b/c there are some hopelessness to some of their songs and some things I don't agree with, but there are still a few here and there that I very much enjoy.)

Not that any of you need an explanation or care really about my thoughts on the Dave Matthews Band. I just feel like I have to justify or defend everything about me. Every decision. Every choice. Every mistake. Who am I trying to prove myself to?



Well, lighter note: I did finally put my foot in a Rainbow Sandal, and wow. Good arch support. I now own four pairs. Funny the way it is...some people don't even have shoes...

I apologize in advance for this choppy blog. But it mirrors my life right now. Seemingly trying to make sense, and be myself, and love my world.





The actual video wasn't able to be embedded, but you can just listen to the song. I would if I were you:




This is a link to the actual video if you want to see it. It is worth checking out, if you don't think this kind of music and videos are a waste of time:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ew8hmVIGKcM




There will always be situations like this in this life. There will always be things unfair. Bad things will happen to good people. Good things will happen to bad people. (Pslam 73)

But, Life IS Grand. To be alive. To be thankful. I don't want to spend too much time thinking about it in the ironical sense. B/c then, my attitude turns bad. I don't need more negativity. I need to be better focused. I need to get off myself. I need to cherish what I have. Renew my mind and get out of this mire my head is in tonight.

I know I must sound crazy. But everyone is, in their own way...

I tried so hard and got so far. In the end, it doesn't even matter.

My day did not end well.

I haven't used this blog too much as a venting post. I have been on the soapbox here and there, but I realize that most of the time, it is just my reflections on stuff.

But tonight, I feel like getting it out there b/c I feel so uneasy. It's like, I'm making progress. Things are looking up again. First time in about a year! I'm not depressed anymore. I've even smiled and laughed again. Felt like myself! (see previous post :) But I guess that's also the point where I get too comfortable. And comfortable can be bad b/c I never want to be complacent and passive. (God doesn't want us to be these things either.)

Well, when one thing goes wrong, it brings up all the other stuff that I have already gotten over, back to the surface. It all settles in my stomach like last night's fajitas. And I wonder why I have stomach issues and ulcers? And I feel depressed again. What happened to my coping skills? Do I think that highly of myself that I would possibly think nothing "like this" could ever happen to moi? Hah. Hardly.

What it is, is hard to explain without making me sound like something I don't want to sound like... but I feel betrayed when this happens. Like the victim of some cosmic joke that I never got. Like the hypothetical rug getting pulled out from under me. Blindsided.

I try so hard. In most things. Everything usually. I want to please more than anything. I want to meet everyone's expectations. (But what have I said previously on here about expectations?) Hah. I give myself to things I care about. I really do. I guess that is called passion? But most of the time, I am more than willing to step down, change myself, to accommodate the other person's agenda. To make them happy.

This would be bad.

I don't know how much more heartache I have go through before I really get this.

I realized that things had been off a little. I couldn't put my finger on it, other than there was just something that wasn't working. We weren't on the same page. I tried so hard to understand. This would make me self-conscious, and good things usually never come out of feeling self-conscious. But that still doesn't mean I wasn't working as hard as I could at it.

I am just not good enough. What happened to confidence?

My family and friends have already said the right things. They know I'm competent. They know my accomplishments. They know my heart. This should make me feel better, yes? Why is that I just marinate on the bad things and let them fester and keep me from sleep, and just let the good things sit in a temporary file somewhere, waiting to be DELETED?

I don't want to be so negative.

But I hate for someone to think I don't care. I hate to be misunderstood. But what can I do about this? Nothing. I guess, just like in relationships, with some people and some jobs, you just don't C L I C K.

N o m a t t e r h o w h a r d y o u t r y.

Well, I'll probably be back to having no money again soon. No more dinners out again. No more buying anything. It was a fun couple weeks while it lasted.
Sorry if I'm bringing you down. But I'm having a huge LIFE SUCKS moment, and it's more than feeling sorry, I'm just tired of it... But I know I'm not the only one out there.

I just hope things look better in the morning like they are supposed to.

I don't like feeling like this.


Someone said that just b/c there is an open door, doesn't mean it's God's Will. I pray for discernment. I just want to do the right thing.

Deleted.

Somebody deleted me today. Delete. That word carries a lot of weight doesn't it? It probably didn't always, but thanks to modern technology, it shows up in our daily goings-on much more often.

I was working along at my computer at work and went to send an email. All of a sudden all of these error messages began beeping at me. So, I do what any non-IT person would do and restart the thing in hopes that will just wash over anything that is wrong. Well, of course, that I was wrong in my thinking. I can't even log back on the computer. Put in a call to the county's IT dept, which might I add is across town from me, and so my new IT BFF began drilling into the issue remotely: Someone has deleted me completley from the county server.

I was unable to work on my computer for a while, but she called me back and gets me set up on everything but that darned ole email. I still don't have it up right, and now I am just hoping the "email guy" that was out of town today can restore me to my original settings tomorrow.

Losing all of this data makes me feel violated. Empty. Panic-stricken. Chaotic.
Somehow I don't think that is how we were meant to live. I mean, who am I to say and who am I to know anything, but wow. Being deleted hurts. But I guess it is just another way to say rejected, and that's where the pain comes from. I have been thrown out. Tossed aside. Forgotten. Not good enough to be a part of something anymore. Hurled from NHC's computer server into Cyber Oblivion!

Hah. Well, I know that I depend heavily on my computer being dependable. And I guess, I do that in humans as well. Hurts like a splinter under your fingernail when either of them malfunction or decide to delete you.

But sooner or later, life does go on! And even if you have to rebuild your Outlook profile, and re-learn 5005 people's email addresses, you will smile and laugh again. :)

M F A

Master of Fine Arts---yes that's me! Well, the writing part of an MFA, that is. And being a "Master" is also subjective, but I do actually have the credential that at least says I am a "Master" of it now. :) That is cause for much celebration as it is hard to believe that it has been two years since I started the program.

Some of my fellow Queens' peeps know what I think the alternate meaning for MFA is... ;)

Anywho. I have had the pleasure of meeting some of the most talented, dedicated, passionate, and kind-hearted writers/people, I think in the world, at Queens, and I am going to miss them terribly. I will be planning a trip to NoCal sometime! And a trip to the ATL will also most def be in the works...

The heads in charge so stressed the need to continue the writing groups, workshops, and the community, and I believe that to be true. I don't want to get back here, sucked up in my life, and not writing. I am a writer. Writer's write. I may just have to be more disciplined and carve out time and just do it.

I don't know if I want to work on my thesis to make it publishable. One of my mentors has encouraged me to do so, but I don't think I am ready for that yet. Queens is pretty awesome unique in that they work with you as an alumni to help you get published. Heads in charge have constant contact with NY agents, so that would be a goal of mine. Oh to have a book in print and on sale!! Wow... Would you buy it?!

Yeah, right now that is only in my dreams.


But it is time to celebrate. I accomplished something. I completed something. And it's time I was less modest about that. Hurrah. I have my MFA...

Ball of Nerves

Well, I am leaving this weekend to go to my final residency in Charlotte for my MFA. I will graduate on May 30, exactly ten days from now. Wow. I didn't realize it was only ten days from now until I just thought about it... Do you know what has to transpire in these ten days to get me to the end??

Sheesh.

Well, like I have said before, I am nothing if not a tad emotional and dramatic, but hey man, I can't help it that things are a big deal to me.

I am in the midst of learning two new jobs... I got an upgrade at the museum, so I won't exactly be working for GWACA anymore. I will be during the transition of getting a new person in here for that, but after then, I am quite sad to say I won't work for the arts council-entity of Wilmington anymore. (www.gwaca.org)
But that job would not likely become full-time for years.

Even though NHC is on a very strict hiring freeze, I was able to slide into a position at the museum. ONLY because the position is through a non-profit that operates in the museum to work mainly in bookkeeping, fund development, and membership. My heart is in non-profits, so I am glad I am actually working for two! (and functional and ethical ones!)

Even though I am back in the world of numbers and ledgers, I am okay with this (for now) as I have been able to learn it enough to do the job satisfactorily (sp?) in my fledgling professional life!

It is still only max 30 hrs a week, but that happened to coincide rather well w/ my new position as Office Manager at WARM, which is also downtown, a few seconds away from the museum. So, I now get up early in the mornings, like the rest of the working world!, and work from 8am-530pm at both jobs, to about 44 hours total a week.

From someone that went from no job, to one job at 13hrs/week, to two jobs at over 40hrs/week, I can't complain in this economy!

I am thankful. (Thanks, God. I didn't see any of this coming.)

So, all of that to say that I am anxiously trying to learn and do well with both jobs, and prepare for my absence ALL NEXT WEEK. And I will miss two important functions while I am gone, but oh well. I'll do my best to prepare! (Boss lady knew I would be gone in advance anyway)

At home, I have about 1001 things to do...finish getting materials and practicing for my seminar I have to give...make sure I have my thesis ready to turn in...packing...meeting people for dinner...try to catch my shows' season finales...etc. :)

So that brings me to my biggest cause for my current nerve problem: PUBLIC SPEAKING.I will not be at rest about that until about 515 pm on Tuesday, May 26. At that exact time, I will have just finished my thesis reading, and my seminar would have been taught earlier that day at 1pm.

Ya'll will probably hear me sigh of relief all the way down here from Charlotte.

After that, I look forward to the rest of the week with my Queen's peeps, some of which I may never see again due to the fact they live across the country. :( But I am thankful for email. Just email. Not so much other forms of technology...

I know all of you couldn't care LESS about any of this, but sometimes it just helps me to vent. But perhaps if you do think of it, send some prayers my way for strength and courage to get through it all! Muchas Gracias!

Amedment to previous blog

When posting, half of the photos were cut off, and I don't want to take the time to resize recrop and repost, so you don't get to see Nebo or my mother, really. Sorry!

Grieving

I guess it is a given that we grieve when we lose something we love. I've had a few lessons in grief this past year...over things that I would never even think would warrant it. But sometimes your soul literally has to just be broken and sad. It is natural. God-ordained even. I always remember the shortest line in the Bible: "Jesus wept." (It is somewhere in the book of John) Now, I do realize the grief Jesus felt is on a different level than what we experience. I mean, Jesus bore the grief of the entire world, past, present, and future. That would kill us. But I know that sometimes we do experience the kind of grief that we feel as if could kill us. Depending on the circumstance, and how dramatic and emotional you are. I tend to be a about 2/3 cup emotional and 1/3 cup dramatic. That equals a whole, right? Yes it does. The denominators are the same, so the numerators can be added! :) Hmm. Guess I need to go back to elementary math. (Yeah, and I've worked in accounting for the past two years! hah)

Well, today I was grieving again. My cat of 11 years was killed this morning. He only had one eye, but he was still healthy and handsome. He was our fluffy, Garfield-like, really-loving-when-he wanted-to-be kitty. His name was Sunny, but he was often called and responded to "Sun Sun" just the same. Here are a few older photos, where he still had both eyes, they are not the best of quality:




Here, he is the one balled up in the center:



(my mother is also in these photos, and the other cat is Hobie Cat, and the dog is Nebo. Hobie was a homeless rescue, hence a hobo, so he became Hobie Cat. Nebo was a neighbor's dog, and they moved and couldn't take him, so my mom and stepdad took him in. We also used to have two goldens, and a slew of other kitties throughout the years and have left a trail of pet cemeteries in the backyards of houses we have lived in...)


I know it hurts when a pet dies. They are family, and loved. I will say I had a touch of feeling sorry for myself today. I'm tired of losing all the men in my life that I love to something else! But I did seek some retail therapy, and bought a few things that I haven't been able to the past four months since I wasn't fully employed. Now that I am, I am enjoying that a little. Another lighter note, literally, I am 21.6 pounds lighter...and counting.

So, rest in peace, Sunny "Sun Sun." We'll miss you and always love you.

My Immortal Beloved

Speaking of Love... Check out my fav letter from the three found written by Ludwig van Beethoven:

The Third Letter
Good morning, on July 7
Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us - I can live only wholly with you or not at all - Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits - Yes, unhappily it must be so - You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart - never - never - Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life - Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men - At my age I need a steady, quiet life - can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day - therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once - Be calm, only by a calm consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together - Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - you - you - my life - my all - farewell. Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.
ever thine
ever mine
ever ours



wow. so beautifully intense.





Check out the rest of them here: http://home.swipnet.se/~w-15266/cultur/ludwig/beeim.htm

Let's make like fabric softner... and snuggle.

So, apparently the iPhone has a pick-up-line generator on it. Seriously?

Yeah, as if we need one more thing to waste our time during our already busy days, but anyway. Case and point, I am currently writing this blog, and now you are currently reading it. Everyone's a hypocrite. :)

I don't own an iPhone, but a friend of a friend does and as she was receiving these funny messages, she was then sending them on to me, and yes, I laughed.

I thought the above line I used as my title was actually...cute. And 'snuggling' moments are tender and gentle moments, and I am partial to those. Although they are tricky as well. Guard your heart. Closeness and intimacy like that are better revered in love and best revered in marriage. (I have learned, and well, God says the latter.)I know everyone's sensitivity here is different, but this is mine. I'd have to say, though, that if I let someone get close enough to 'snuggle' with me, then my heart is in it. So, all of this to say, live and learn and now my heart is guarded. (And my idea of snuggling is not necessarily the horizontal kind. I also consider sitting close on the couch, standing in embrace. If an arm is around me in any way for a longer period of time than just a "hey good to see you hug," than my heart is getting bigger.)

I know that I fall way too easily, so that it is good that I have learned more about myself in this manner to be better about protecting myself. There is a book about the languages of love (by Gary Chapman) and I never thought that physical would be one of mine, but I have learned that it is. And minor touches do the trick. I am also a bit of the affirmation-language. I need to be touched and told! haha. The book is an interesting read, if you are interested, check it out at any bookstore etc.

Anyway, love is on my mind a lot. Life is a journey--I know---and if you call yourself a Christian, you are constantly learning and transforming to be more loving, non-judgmental, compassionate, self-controlled, joyous---Like Jesus. I want to be a loving person. What a great thing to be known for. Instead of all the mistakes I've made to define me, what if it were love instead?

I have a confession to make. Feel special, b/c I haven't admitted this to too many people, so now it is public knowledge, forever burned into cyberspace that my grand kids will one day dig up and show me again on their iPhone 79780890 technology with 9999999 gigs of memory or whatever.

I did the online dating thing.

Okay okay. I know, I couldn't believe it either. But this was my reasoning:

I had a part time job where I worked with basically no one. (And even now, that I have two fantastic part-time jobs that are paying me more than I have ever made--another blog another time--I am working w/ all women.)

I don't really 'go out' anymore so to speak, and I've always believed since I was old enough to be in one, that you're never gonna meet your "soul mate" in a bar anyway.

I volunteer with all women.

None of my girlfriends have boyfriends that have suitable friends to introduce me to.

And that is, in a nutshell, my life.

Not that I am not happy with it.

But I begrudgingly decided that I would try this thing. I just wanted to meet new people--new friends. Have someone new to hang out with. I'm not looking to meet my husband online. Not ruling it out, but also not wholeheartedly expecting it. I have seen it work for people though. Love, marriage, AND babies.

I don't date. Never have really. I am kind of a one-dude kind of gal. I like relationships, because that's when you really get to know someone. I'd much rather spend most of my time with one person getting to know them, rather than barely spending time with lots of people and just "having fun." Sound nuts?

I really think that most people can get a long. Most people can mesh or make it work. I guess I have naive expectations about love. I also guess sometimes it truly doesn't work with people but you can usually tell that after like, one or two meetings with them. I don't think I've ever not gotten along well with anyone that I've let into my relational field. I don't think I've ever not truly meshed with any of them (all 2.5 of them (yeah, the half is from a long, long time ago...another blog! haha), BUT we just didn't make it work. Due to many and usually crazy circumstances on both parties... Perhaps, haha, they would have a different story, but that is what I see now when I'm looking back. :)

Sometimes I wish I could be more emotionless and less attached. But I'm not, and I can't. So, someone will someday accept that and stick with me. And love me.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. (1 Cor. 13:4-8)

I'm so glad God does this for me. He loves me this much. That IS how He loves, and that is how I am learning to love. Unconditionally. Undeservedly. Unfailingly.
Yeah, I fall way short of perfection, but this is the goal I want to be prayerfully working towards...to be always loving and forgiving...in all things.


For now, the online thing is on the back burner. I've met a few very nice new friends.

But it's just gonna happen when it happens. Whenever the timing is right.