You know, I used to live like Robinson Crusoe, shipwrecked among eight million people. Then one day I saw a footprint in the sand - and there you were.
-Bud, The Apartment

Temples and green dust.

I don't know what my mind is trying to do, but I had another weirdly vivid and stressful dream last night. Describing it really doesn't do it justice... I tried to tell Amelia about it, and I can't figure out how convey the weird feeling it gave me. But here goes.

It was kind of a two-part dream, but with the same people. I was with this group of guys (I knew them in my dream, but now that I'm trying to figure out who they were, I have no idea). We were wandering through this huge swamp (think Dead Marshes), looking for some kind of medieval temple (which was actually built to float, so it was more like a boat) that was called "The Ark of the Covenant". It wasn't the actual ark of the covenant - it was just called that. Anyway, we finally found it, and we decide to go in. Except then the guys decide to stay on the shore and watch for dolphins (dolphins in a swamp - I know), so I went in by myself. I tripped when I walked through the door so I tumbled down into it, and when I stood up I got the weirdest feeling. I can still feel it now when I think about it. The only way I know how to describe it is by comparing it to the mausoleum where my grandpa is buried. Just that feeling of walking alone between marble walls that are holding people inside. I walked in there last year and felt this weird oppressive feeling that terrified me but somehow obligated me to stay. Anyway - the temple in my dream wasn't a mausoleum, but it had that same heavy feeling. I walked through it a ways until I saw this suit of armor, and suddenly I knew that there was someone inside of it. I don't know how I knew that, but I did, so I turned around and ran.

Then the dream sort of switched, and I was sitting with the guys around a table somewhere. On the table, there was this little gray box with weird designs on it, and a fine green dust was floating up out of the top. One of the boys explained to me that the box/dust was a sort of truth detector. So he began saying various words and descriptions about another one of the boys - "blonde", "short", "likes sports" - and if the statement was true about that other boy, the cloud of green dust would get bigger. So this first boy began with harmless descriptive words about the other boy, but then he started getting really deep and personal - I don't remember what he said, but it was all about the other boy's fears and problems and stuff. Things nobody really wants anyone to know (much less talk) about. It was like the Judgement Day, except instead of God there was a little box and green dust. The second boy finally got so frustrated and embarrassed that he left. Then the first boy looked at me and said, "Alright, your turn." And I started panicking because I knew that the box would know everything that was true about me.

And then I woke up. You know, if I somehow could combine all of these dreams of mine, that would be one interesting book.

Suicidal Nazis.

I had the most stressful dream last night. My family, apparently, was Jewish, and we knew that the Nazis were coming through our town (which was still located in Southern California) and that they were going to kill us. So we had to get out of town, and we could only take with us what we could carry in a backpack. I ran around my room throwing things into my school backpack, and for some reason everything I put in there was broken. Anyway. Then a small private plane flew up and landed in our street, and Dad said that he had hired a pilot to fly us out. So we all squeezed in, and the plane took off. Only, instead of flying away to a different city, the pilot turned the plane toward a nearby field and flew full-speed at a barn. We then realized that the pilot was really a Nazi who was purposely going to crash the plane and kill us. And all we could do was watch the barn get closer and closer before we crashed.

Apparently Nazis were also suicidal. Weird.

But still incredibly stressful.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwZ_oFCqfG0&feature=related

One of my favorite bands, singing my favorite hymn. WHAT?!

Couple things.

I was looking at plane tickets last night. LAX to JFK to MAD to DUB. bwahahahaha. Excitement.

I fell asleep on the couch this afternoon and woke up at almost 8:00pm. Epic homework fail.

"Dust Bowl Dance" by Mumford and Sons. aerllkldkfasknrlkrrrr. That's all I'm gonna say about that one.

I see friends shaking hands, saying "How do you do?"

Our English midterm on Tuesday is based on an article that we have to read and then be prepared to write a randomly assigned essay about. What is the article on, you ask? Strangely enough, it's about a woman who delivers pizzas. HAHA. The annoying thing is that she lives in some random state like Delaware or some other countryside/suburban place, so she makes it sound like the most cheerful job on earth. "Driving open roads, listening to music, looking at the stars from my window and thinking about life..." Apparently in her world, stoplights are so infrequent that a "quick driver" can cover more than 20 deliveries and 100 miles in a night. Also, people are incredibly polite to her and tip well. I was chuckling throughout the entirety of this article. Maybe that's how things ARE in Delaware. If they are, I think I may move there just to see. My experience, however, was quite different. I almost want to write a response to that article... but I wouldn't really know where to start.

Speaking of that... place... though, I am forever rid of it! I've been waiting around for a good time to go back and pick up my last paycheck (and hand in my shirt, apron, and cool [pffff] little baseball cap) - and by "good time", I mean a time when the thought of going back didn't make me feel tiny and panicky like a rabbit in a corner. But it's been, what, 2 weeks since I quit? That "good time" was not going to come - I think I knew that, but I was in denial about it. Then today I felt so disgusted with my inability to do anything worthwhile over the last few days, that I decided to just rip the band-aid off. I called and asked if my paycheck was there, and drove over two minutes later. I signed for the thing, handed in my effects (which have been folded on top of my keyboard so that I've had to walk past them every time I go in or out of my room - a blatant attempt to guilt myself into going back and finishing the blasted matter off), and hooted and hollered all the way home. Funny how one act that shows initiative can make a worthless week suddenly feel very victorious. I never have to go back! HA!

...Annnnnd I'm unemployed. I mean I have been for awhile. But now I'm not even remotely affiliated with any company. Yesterday after teaching at Groups, I went all over the county looking for jobs at my number-1 choices. Some of them just weren't hiring, but some of them were.... and I didn't get the jobs. Any of them. (Last night was not a happy night after all of that.) I think it was just the hours - unfortunately my crazy school schedule really has left me with just a restaurant-appropriate schedule. But I'm done with restaurants. There's got to be SOMETHING else out there for me. I still have a few places to apply to before I give up. And once I get to that point, I'll find something else to aim for... no giving up allowed here.

You know, in my defense, the places that rejected me did so through their online applications. If those had been face-to-face interviews with the same questions, I'm pretty sure I'd have a job by now. Not that I'm the most amazing people-person in the world, but in an interview setting, I think I'm much better in person than on a computer screen. I think most people are. Why is everything going online? I hate it! It's not doing any of us any favors.

Backing up a little. Before I metaphorically ripped off the band-aid of Me-n-Ed's, I spent all day helping Kate take school photos for homeschoolers. Well, I didn't help her with any of the photography stuff... I was the assistant, doing all the filing and paperwork and greeting of people. And reading Ezekiel during the slow parts of the day. (Why Ezekiel? Why not? By the way, the whole Valley of the Dry Bones thing? CRAZY. Why does no one talk about that story more?!) Anyway. Kids crack me up - homeschoolers especially. Some kids are just so uncomfortable with getting their picture taken... they just don't know what to do with themselves! Also, the socially-awkward thing. Although I think that's just EVERY kid, regardless of their education experience. And then there are braces. I forget about braces sometimes, but I did have them for 4 years, so I sympathize. But somehow it still surprises me when I see someone smile and reveal a mouthful of metal. Such a weird phenomenon. Metal on your teeth. How do they come up with these things?

I really need to get over this constant tiredness. I can't get anything done when I get home from wherever I've been, because my brain just gets tired and shuts off. And then all I can do is write weird blog posts and make more mix CD's to listen to on my drives.

Speaking of driving, I went downtown tonight to a gallery where Dad had some of his pottery showing. (He was doing a demonstration on the wheel, too... good old Dad. I wish he could do these things every night - I never see him as happy as when he's showing people how to work the wheel.) Anyway. Downtown at night = SKETCH. Flashbacks of delivering pizzas on sketchy streets. I held my trusty old pepper-spray in my hand the whole time I was walking to and from my car. (Did I ever mention the time when, on a delivery once, I had to walk down a really long, dark, CREEPY street downtown, and I accidentally sprayed my pepper-spray and started choking and crying? ...Yeah. That stuff really works. Y'know, in case you had doubts.) It's funny, cause those streets are some of my favorite to drive through in the mornings or late afternoons, especially this time of year. Those streets are some of the only places in town where there are trees that actually change color in the autumn and winter. There's a gothic-style Catholic church on one of the streets, and even though it's new - I think it was built around 1900 - it's the closest thing we've got to a cathedral around here. I've always loved that building - I went there once on a field trip in second grade, but the only thing I remember about the inside is a stained glass window of Jesus standing at a door with a heart on it, knocking and looking a little anxious. This caused my seven-year-old self a bit of concern, and I remember that Mom was very pleased with that discovery. (The discovery that I was a discerning child, that is. Not the discovery that Catholics view election differently than we do.) Anyway - all that to say, I drove by the church on my way home tonight and the stained glass windows were all lit up and I've never seen the place look so beautiful. I almost pulled over and went inside. In fact one of these days I think I will, just to see. I've never been to a mass.

Oy. This week is going to be crazy... I should be doing homework. Or sleeping. Or writing something good. Unfortunately, my poor little fried brain isn't really into any of those ideas. I think I'll end up watching Pushing Daisies.

You know one more nice thing? On my way to the gallery tonight, I stopped at Jack-in-the-Box for dinner, since nobody else was home and I was too tired to cook myself soemthing. I went through the drive-thru, but then I parked in the lot facing the ocean, and got to eat my dinner while watching the sunset.

All things considered, even if today wasn't outrageously profitable, it was a nice day. Funny, the things that make a day good or bad.

Goodnight.

I hear that the stars were so bright; I hear that it was such a sight.

I need to de-clutter my mind. It's frustrating, though, because I haven't been able to write anything good in forever. I've started a few times in the past couple days, just trying to force myself to start with the hope that, once I start writing, something good will come from it. It hasn't. Anyway, not yet. I can't even write a good blog-post... whatever that would look like. I don't actually know... hm. Odd - it never occurred to me to wonder what a blog was for before. Oh well. What I really need is to talk about all of this stuff - to tell it to somebody, or something... but I don't know how. (And no, of course that didn't sound cliche...) But therein lies the difficulty - I'm far too stubborn to go into all of the details of all the ridiculous things going on in my head. This whole paragraph is proof of that. I want to discuss it, but I won't. I don't get me. I bet nobody really gets themselves, though... in fact I think it's very likely that anyone who pretends to understand himself is even more delusional than the rest of us. Poor sucker.

One thing I will say, though, is that my car is having problems and is now in the shop. I don't know how long it'll be there. In the meantime I have to drive the van, which feels like a bus compared to my car. (Today I was turning a sharp corner in the parking lot at school and I drove over the curb. Which was awkward AND, if I'd been in MY car, would not have happened.)

Aggggh. I'm tired. Not sleep-deprivation tired, either. I mean real, worn-out, nothing-left-to-give tired. That feeling came on Monday and hasn't gone away since. Not a great way to start a school week.

I have to work on my English paper. I wrote it the other day, but I have to revise it now, because the first draft was pretty awful. This kinda sucks in itself - I never do "first drafts". I write something and it's done. My writer's block is even spreading to my essays! Ack!

I want to go for a drive. But I CAN'T. sigh.

... all the sudden my room smells like cat-litter. How suspicious.

Anyway - this all really had no point, but I wish it did. I think if I could write a charming, witty, meaningful blog-post, that I might feel better about today. But I'm too tired to think that way. Kind of depressing, isn't it?

This is silly. I need a new game-plan.

Dear me.

I've been getting these awful headaches all day. I say "headaches", plural, because they come for about five to ten seconds and are excruciating, and then they go away.

Sheesh. I don't even know what to do with all that's going on in my head right now.

There but for the grace of You go I.

Sometimes I'm completely overwhelmed and confused about why God answers my prayers. I mean, duh, God is good. But there must be other people who deserve Goodness more. And it's simple, seemingly inconsequential stuff, too. For example, every day of the semester, parking has been a huge hassle at school. Mostly I get frustrated and concentrate only on looking for an open spot - but every single time, without fail, that I've said, "Please open up a spot," a spot opens within two/three minutes. Just ridiculous stuff like that where you're like, God, you didn't have to do that. It's crazy.

I was on your porch last night.

My dad was sick, my mom she cared for him.
Her love, it nursed him back to health.
But me, I ran - I couldn't even look at him,
For fear I'd have to say goodbye.
And as I start to leave, he grabs me by the shoulder
And he tells me...

What's left to lose? You've done enough.
And if you fail, well, then you fail, but not to us.
'Cause these last three years, I know they've been hard.
But now its time to get out of the desert and into the sun;
even if its alone.

That song makes me want to cry. How do people write things like that?

Words that tear and strain to rhyme.

We have so many books in this house. I've been trying to consolidate between bookshelves, in an attempt to make the hallways look more organized... also in an attempt to keep myself busy when I don't know what else I should be doing. I'm so crazily busy all the time, and when I have an evening or a few hours without homework, I don't know what to do with myself. So I spend a lot of time staring at things like a window or the ceiling - which I think is a sign that I either need more sleep, healthier food, or... well, something. I don't know. Anyway - the books. My dad's been collecting them for decades, and while I was going through the shelves, I found some rather interesting things. There are three main categories that he likes: theology, the arts, and revolutions of various countries. It's surprising how many he has on Irish revolutions - Dad's never been too big on the Irish, though I think that's mainly because I took more of an interest in that side of my heritage (from Mom's side) than the German side (his side). There was one book titled "The Improbable Irish", which I loved. He also has books on things like bonsai trees, digital cameras, museum guides and travel books to places he's never been, and a book full of ink drawings and Japanese verse that have been translated into German. I think that was the best find of all.

All of this started because I spent last night building myself a bookshelf. It's one of those really huge ones - taller than I am, and about 2 or 3 feet wide. Unlike my old shelf (which was about half the size), this one has enough room for all of my books and a few other decorative items beside - which, of course, is why I wanted a shelf that big. :) But after moving all of this furniture and boxes and other various junk around, my back is really sore. Oh well. It was worth it.

I realize that I haven't written in a while... I really should be writing more often. Not only here, but just in general. I haven't written a story in months, which is really depressing. I have all these ideas floating around, but I can never hold onto one long enough to keep enthusiastic about it. I also don't allow myself to really get into a project that I know I'll enjoy, because I know that I'll feel guilty for not doing school instead. So I end up doing a million other, more pointless, things - which collectively take as much time as a truly enjoyable project would. How stupid.

Things move so quickly. It's October now, isn't it? Crazy. I'm starting - what - week 6 of school? Halloween is at the end of the month, and Christmas is in two. Jon and Megan are getting married in a month and four days. My baby niece, Kayleigh, was born on this past Monday - I got to meet her on Thursday. I drove down there and back in an afternoon/night, because I didn't know when else I could go. THAT was crazy, by the way. I've seen millions (well, okay, not millions - but a lot) of babies before, but this one was different. I remember her mother being only a few years older than that. As I was holding Kayleigh, I just kept feeling her skin and thinking, wow - you're so new. You've felt so little. Then I started thinking about how different she'll look every time I see her; immediately I imagined myself saying, "You've grown so much since last time I saw you!" and suddenly I felt incredibly old. I wonder if that's how people begin to feel age. When we have a new life to measure against ours.

I need to get another job. I haven't even started looking again, because I haven't had a day to dedicate to the hunt. I need to force myself, though. Maybe Wednesday. Yeah - Wednesday. I'll do it. It's just hard to go and sign my life away again, now that I know how rare and special it is to spend an evening at home. But I just have to keep reminding myself of Ireland. That ticket won't buy itself.

Shoot. I also need to start applying to colleges.

I'm at an awkward standstill with myself. I keep wanting to write, "I wish time would slow down!" but then I remember how often I wrote things like, "I wish this year would just finish already." I guess that means that time is moving at just the right pace, though it may not feel like it at the moment. God knew what He was doing when he invented the clock and the calendar. He still does.

I'm going to wait until Kate comes home to go to sleep - I told her I'd stay up for her. So. Until then, I think I'm going to go through my closet and play dress-up; put on a runway show for the cat.

... don't judge.

By the way, I drank a pot of coffee today. By myself. This is what happens when I stay in the house all day.