A fresh start.

I used to be good at this blogging business. paha. It just got too hard to set aside time to catch up on all the things that I wasn't writing about, and then I just sort of gave up. So. Rather than try to catch up on this summer, I am starting a completely new blog. A clutter-free, blank-space, so-fresh-you-can-smell-the-paint blog. Also, people at church and my family were asking me to keep a blog at school that they can read - and I don't really want them to have to wade through all of my ramblings from the past three years. So I'm setting aside my blue-eyed point of view and going for something a little broader.

You can follow my adventures in Illinois, if you are so inclined, here.

I'm not sure if anyone even still reads this... but if you do, thanks for not giving up on me. I'll see you in my new "home".

This is an old song, these are old blues.

I don't know why, but blogging just hasn't been appealing lately. It's kind of funny to me how blunt I've been on here in the past - sometimes about things that matter, but not usually. Or at least not always. But these days, writing my innermost thoughts on a public webpage just doesn't seem like a great idea. It's kind of weird for me to feel that way, since I used to depend on "dumping" my mind here every night, to keep things up there (relatively) clutter-free. But yeah. Not so much now.

I will tell you that my arms are sore. I had to go to the doctor yesterday to complete the requirements for entrance to Wheaton. That was pretty much the worst doctor experience ever. They were really confusing, and the nurses weren't communicating well so I almost ended up getting the wrong injections... the paper work was all mixed up... we went home and had to go back an hour later, because they forgot to give me another shot... AND it must have been a bad day for my nurse, because she was a rather terrifying person to have to deal with. Anyway. I really only got 3 shots, once all was said and done... but the visit(s) on a whole was extremely stressful and took up way too much time. Oh shoot, and I have to go back on Thursday to get my arm looked at so that they can tell me that I don't have tuberculosis. Hopefully.

Also, my car was difficult last week, but nothing major happened until Sunday. I got in the car to drive to church, and it didn't start. We took Kate's car, but still, it's sort of lame knowing that your car is dead and not knowing what's wrong with it. It was out of commission for two days, but Dad cleaned the engine up a bit and bought me a new battery, and Peter is running just fine now. So yay.

Things have been interesting lately. Not really anything that would make an interesting story to tell... just things, I guess. I go to rehearsals for 3 days mid-week, and when I'm home I try to fill my time with college things or else I just hang out with people. Somehow I end up being gone most of the time, but I don't really know where I go. Things just seem to keep coming up. I still have to make good on a lot of summer plans, like visiting the Brubakers, spending more time at Jon and Megan's, reading many books, WRITING things (AGHGHGHHHHH. I NEED TO WRITE.), and possibly learning how to ride a bike... but yeah. Somehow I'm always too busy.

Tomorrow I'm hanging out with various friends at various locations from 10 to 5:45, at which time I will head to Ojai for evening rehearsals. I spent Wednesday night there now, so that I don't have to get up ridiculously early for Thursday morning rehearsals. I feel like I'm doing something on Friday, but I can't remember what. Heavens. Maybe I SHOULD blog more... if not for writing's sake, at least to remind myself of what I should be doing.

One thing that I should be doing is going to visit Ivy Lawn Cemetery. I haven't been there since the day before I went to Ireland. I think about visiting every time I drive past, but I'm always either on my way someplace (and usually late), or it's after closing time. That sort of just makes me feel continuously guilty. I should have time to go and visit my grandfather, for heaven's sake.

I'm going to be at Wheaton in two months, I just realized. Crazy. Oh my goodness - I have so many things to buy. Agh. I hate spending money. I don't HAVE money! I... need to fix that.

Oyy, life is weird. Everybody's growing up and changing themselves and going away. It was a cozy little world, this one - but it doesn't really exist anymore. And there's no sense missing something that doesn't exist, is there?

I wonder what things will be like in 10 years.

Right. I'm going to pack now so that I don't have to in the morning. Goodnight, folks. I'll see you when I see you.

Hm.

So... I kind of fail at blogging these days. There's really just not that much to report. I did stay up until 2 a.m. last night re-designing this blog, however... so I think that earns me some credit. (Or "ears me some credit", as I originally wrote. Whatever that means.) Basically I've been doing various random things around the house, hanging out with friends, and staying in Ojai for Scarlet Pimpernel rehearsals. That's kind of it right now. Hopefully this summer will turn more eventful soon. Today, I woke up and had the house to myself, so I ran around singing my songs (from the play) at the top of my lungs. (Which is lousy at first when you have morning voice... but it's fun anyway.) I'm going to practice piano now because I'm leading music at church on Sunday... and then I'm going to hang out with Amelia and Laura. Which will be nice. The weather has been so nice and sunny lately that it drives me crazy to stay in the house, but most of the time I don't really have anyplace to go. So when I get an excuse, I run at it.

Speaking of running... so long. :)

Hello!

Well my goodness. It's been awhile since I wrote, but it's been forEVER since I wrote HERE! I've been home for a bit over a week, but things keep distracting me from writing. Right now, for example, I am exceedingly distracted by my desire for more coffee. In fact I may just go get some right now. ... Nope. Went for a bowl of pasta instead.

Anyway, hi. If you're curious about what happened while I was gone, you should check out my other blog, which can be found here. (P.S. I'm super proud of myself for figuring out how to do that link thing just now. Ha!) It really was an amazing trip. I can't believe that was two months, though - two months is such a long time. And I've been back home, what, 10 days? And already everything is normal. Except it's not really... it's all just slightly different. Which is satisfying. I think that if I felt tremendously changed, I'd just be afraid that it wouldn't last very long. Big changes never seem to. It's the subtle, little ones that you've got to watch out for.

Today I was a pretty proactive girl. Since I got back, I've been wanting to go to the beach - but every morning, before I've had coffee so that I can make an intelligent decision, I find an excuse not to go out. Today, however, I didn't listen to myself - even though it was FREEZING COLD down there. I went to the beach and laid out on the sand for awhile, with my paperback "9 Stories" to keep me company. I love reading Salinger at the beach - Jon once read "The Laughing Man" out loud to me and Kate there, and ever since then the author and the place have been intrinsically bound in my mind. After I finished "For Esmé - With Love and Squalor", I set my things down, took a running start and dove into the water. I was in for about a minute altogether, probably, but it was cold enough to make me shiver the whole way home. Anyway - after that I was definitely awake! Aside from that rather glorious beginning, all I've really done today is clean the house and make Mom a card. I never know what to do for Mother's Day... it drives me crazy when I see those commercials that try to get you to give your mom a car or something for Mother's Day. I mean, really? It's only a holiday because of Hallmark, anyway - and Lexus really wants us to give our moms a CAR? ... anyway. I'm not bitter about being a poor college student, really. ;)

Speaking of college! I've decided to go to Wheaton. Which is just crazy to me. Not the fact that it's Wheaton - just the fact that it's SOMEWHERE. I never really thought about life after VC, because it was all just too uncertain. Subconsciously I think I just sort of thought that life wouldn't exist after Ventura. But then I decided on a college, and all the sudden, BAM. Life! It's so much BIGGER than that! I mean, I know this all sounds kind of stupid, but really - to me, it was a huge revelation. It's like I've been walking around on a little island this whole time, and I just found a bridge to the mainland. It's all out there, just waiting. In Chicago! And after that... who knows?

My point is, I'm excited. The world is so much bigger than I ever thought it was - both physically and metaphorically. And that's a cool thing.

Well. Megan and Kate and I are gonna watch a movie or something, so I will say so long. Hopefully it won't be another two months before I write here. :)

If you're wondering where I've gone for 2 months...

You apparently haven't been paying attention. I am going to Ireland until May 2nd, as you know - but I won't be writing on THIS particular blog while I'm there. I'll be writing on THIS one.

http://whenyourefaraway.blogspot.com/

I can't believe I'm only a day away. HEART ATTACK! I'm going to go pack. And do laundry. Actually I should probably do laundry first...

Anyway. So that's where I'll be for a while yet - I'll be writing of all my adventures on my other blog. If you're interested, please follow along! And if you have another means of conversing with me, I'd love to hear from you and keep in touch with the folks back at home. Till we meet again here, in May, then!

Fourrrrrr daaaayyyysssss

Well. Yesterday was my last day of work, and I spent all day today shopping with Kate, spending $135 on millions of tiny necessary traveling items. I hate spending money. I don't remember the last time I bought something, aside from gasoline. Aannnnnd I have to go shopping even MORE in the next three days. Tomorrow is basically my last day of socialization before the heavy-duty packing and organizing begins. Friday I teach, go to Costco to buy a camera, and go to a leadership meeting for mime in the evening. Saturday I am going to pack, because apparently Sunday is a family day and I must have everything done by then. Then we leave at 5 AM on Monday morning. Oh my gosh. The days are going by so quickly. I'm actually a bit frightened... but the excitement is starting to kick in.

Except... drama. sigh. There are SO many more serious things going on in the world - I know that. My little life problems really don't matter. But they sure give me insomnia and a headache.

On the up-side... my room is going to be very clean and dust-free in about an hour.

While I'm feeling blunt...

I feel horribly guilty when I think about being gone for two months. The kind of guilty that makes you feel physically sick. One of the things that has always bothered me about myself is the fact that I run from confrontation - not even that, just unpleasant situations in general. But that's always been a metaphorical sort of running away. There are so many loose ends in my life right now - so many things on a ledge - and not only am I emotionally distancing myself, but I'm leaving the freaking COUNTRY. I keep trying to convince myself that that's what I need - distance, in both senses of the word. But it's not working. I hate that I so often leave things (people, mainly) hanging. But fixing everything before I go is not even close to being possible.

I wish I was better at being a good person.

It weighs too much this time;
My hands are broken.

For the record...

Jessica Chastain is one to watch.

And the soundtrack for "Up in the Air" is one to listen to.

And Santa Barbara is the place to go.

And 10 DAYS HOLYCRAPWHAT!!!!!!

Every day can't be your best day.

Before you start thinking about how emotional this post is going to be - don't. This post's title comes from a song that, for some mysterious reason of its own, has become my anthem of the semester. Jeremy made a CD for me awhile ago and he didn't think I'd like this song - but it cracks me up. Seriously, every time it comes on I smile - it's almost humorous. I would play it on the way to work every morning for a while, but it's been a week or so since I heard it last. Until this evening, that is.

Backing up, today actually was a pretty crappy day. I had to drive out to the edge of the county (county, not country - for those of you who add letters to words like I do) because the kids were getting haircuts and apparently no place in THEIR city is good enough. So I took care of them, two at a time, while all three had their little blonde hairs trimmed. Unfortunately that meant taking them into the next-door bakery, as per their mother's suggestion. I forget sometimes how very humble my childhood was; I STILL walk through any shop or store that I go to and look at things without even thinking of buying them. It frustrates Amelia to no end to go shopping with me - while she takes a stack to the fitting rooms, I pick something up, say with sincerity, "Ah, this is so nice!" and promptly put it back. That's just how I was raised - it's not like we were deprived of anything we needed, or anything... we just didn't splurge. Ever. Anyway - all that to say that not all families are like mine was. It's just kind of hard for me to not only watch, but be a part of, such splurging. I don't think it's healthy for kids to be trained to walk into a store and order whatever they want - but y'know. Who am I to judge. It's not like I'm a responsible adult who was raised to pay for my own things.

cough.

ANYWAY, so there was the salon and the bakery... and then I drove the kids back to their house, and kept them busy until two of their friends could come over. I had thought, when their mom told me of the afternoon plans, that little friends would keep the kids self-entertained. I don't remember EVER having a parent (much less a babysitter) looming around me and my friends while we were playing. Kids can play alone, right? False! Having friends over only means that the nanny gets two MORE little ones to keep out of trouble. So Parents, be aware - don't send your kid over to your neighbor's just because there is a babysitter there. It's poor sportsmanship.

So long story short, I watched five kids today - dealt with all of the hunger and thirst, the smashed toes, the tears, the crazed hyper screaming, the arguing over what TV show to watch during the last half hour... sigh. Okay, I'm sorry - it's not all that bad, really. I'm still very thankful to have a job. And sometimes the kids are alarmingly sweet - the 3 year old, especially, seems to really love me. It's just that some days it's harder to deal with all of this than others. Today was just... well, not my best day.

But then, every day can't be, can it? ;)

After work, I found myself going to the harbor again - the sunset was, for the second day in a row, completely BREATHTAKING, OHMYGOSHWHYISTHEWORLDSOBEAUTIFUL?!. Except, haha, sometimes the world is really stupid. Men. GAH. Until tonight I hadn't felt bothered or afraid or stalked or anything during my walks - always just a peaceful aloneness. Tonight, however, was different. First of all, on the bridge there was a photographer dude taking pictures of the sky. We were walking opposite ways, until I walked past him, and then he stopped. He watched me for a while and then started walking after me. I walked a bit faster. He walked a bit faster. I sped up, he sped up. We continued in this fashion until I came across a small family who was enjoying the view, and I tagged along a few yards away from them. The photographer stopped following me and walked the other way again. So that was one. Then - oh, I didn't write about this. Last night, I started feeling a little paranoid because there was this older guy walking behind me, and for some reason I had it in my mind that it might be the guy who was stalking me last year at school. (For real - I had a legitimate stalker. Police were involved. Not sure if I ever wrote about that.) I was juuuuust starting to get worried, when I saw a security guard riding up on a bicycle. Salvation!, I thought. I felt safe. I looked ahead at the fellow on the bike and said, "Hello!" He gave me a quick look-over and said, "Hello, beautiful." This usually wouldn't have bothered me so much, except that I was already feeling afraid of men and then to have THAT from a SECURITY GUARD was just too much. I shot him the dirtiest look I could muster and continued on my way. So that was last night - then this evening, I came across the same be-bicycled guard, after the incident with the photographer. I told him hello, and he smiled smugly and told me hello - and that was that. But now I hate men. I don't hate them for objectifying women or even for just saying stupid things nearly as much as I hate them for ruining my walks.

Jerks.

So by the time I pulled into my driveway, I was feeling incredibly tired and grouchy at the world. I planned to go into the house, say, "Hey dude" to Kate (wherever she happened to be), and go hide in my room for awhile where no one could bother me.

Ha.

I opened the door, put my keys down, and said, "Hey dude." Suddenly...



Kate hit a key on the computer and "The Best Day" blared throughout the house. She started into her drunk lizard dance, and what could I do but join her? And I'm sorry for the language, but sometimes you just need to shout along with the lyrics here. So we shouted and danced about like heathens round a campfire for a good long time. I don't know how she does it... but sometimes that sister of mine is just magic.

Also, I wrote a short story last night. It's a bit rough - I need to find a good way to end it, too - but I think it has some genuinely good things about it. It just felt so good to WRITE.

So alllllll of this to say... the world is weird and hard and scary. But it can be so unexpectedly glorious sometimes. Thank you for teaching us, God.

Captain America speaking.

Life is so strange. People are strange - I'M strange. I went over to Amelia's before work today and she asked me, with the sad and sympathetic Amelia-face that I love, how I was doing. I started unloading all of the things that I'm frustrated with and upset about - we take turns doing that during our coffee get-togethers. Today was my day, apparently - and for whatever reason, I started laughing. And I mean hysterically. It's so weird how that happens; it's only happens rarely to me, and I'm never quite sure what to make of it. On the last day of school last semester, for example, I had gone out to lunch with Amelia and Jeremy and it had struck me, in between bites of my taco, that I wouldn't be coming back to school to see them every day. In rapid succession, I realized that I had no idea what this year would be like, and how afraid I was of that. I didn't feel the full effect of it until that night, when I was cleaning the kitchen after dinner and spilled an entire cup of coffee all across the floor. I started laughing, and then I started crying. And I sat down on the floor and laughed and cried and didn't breathe while Kate stood there watching me, not sure what to do.

I confuse myself. In so many more ways than this.

Anyway - today was pretty good, after the weird incident with Amelia. I worked from 1 to 5, and I only had the youngest two today, so it was pretty easy. I took them on a walk, and calmed the 3 year-old down after he threw a tantrum because his 7 year-old sister always wins when she yells "RACE!" I told him that he would get big one day, and then he would start winning races, too. He stopped crying for a moment and said, "I'm gonna get big?" I told him yes. He smiled a horrifyingly toothy smile (through his still-drying tears), and said, "And Anna won't grow at ALL!" Well, it's a work in progress, anyway...

Oh, and during our daily game where he forgets my name - at least I hope it's a game... - he called me "Captain America". I asked him if that's who I am, and he said, "Yes. My babysitter is Captain America!" Which made me feel pretty cool. Pretty sure this should put me in a babysitter hall of fame or something.

Man. I'm leaving in 12 days. OHMYGAAAAAH. I have no idea what I should be doing to get ready. I started a list of things to pack last night... I think that's a good start...?

I need to go shopping. But I hate shopping. I hate spending money and trying things on and feeling bad about myself when they don't fit. Which is STUPID, because I know weight isn't really a problem. Clothes just aren't made for long people. Stupid stores.

In other news, I've been going to the harbor every evening after work since Valentines Day. It's not like I plan it, or that it's part of my routine - because I don't really have one of those. It starts when I leave the family's house - they live on the very top of a hill, and I can see the whole city, all the way to the ocean and the islands. And I watch the sky all during the drive back home, and I think about how glorious it is to be able to see these things. And then I'm parking in the lot, and walking around the marina and shivering because I never think to bring a jacket. And it clears my head so nicely. As much as any walk can, anyway.

Oh, and if I'm really lucky, like I was tonight, I'll come home and find that Mom has just gone out to get us all Chinese food. Score.

Things really aren't as bad as I make them out to be. I've been trying to get better at not making myself out to be a victim. Seriously. Get over it, Laura. It's just hard, because I'm really not mad at any one person or any one thing; I'm just frustrated with myself, which sucks. It's so much easier to throw blame around at people outside. Anyway... yeah. I'm going to go watch a video on England with Dad. And drink lots of water. Darned Chinese food.

OH! FORTUNE COOKIES! I forgot. Bye.

And she says, "What for? I'm yours and that's it, whatever."

Wow. Today was another one of those 3-in-1 days. As in, long. A lot happened! Well... sort of. I taught this morning, and that went well - I always love teaching homeschoolers. It's so fun being the cool/weird (mostly weird - I let Amelia be the mothering one) "older" girl. Anyway, I left the campus a bit before noon, came home and ate lunch and changed, and then headed off to nanny-duty. Halfway to their house, I was stopped at a light and checked my phone (yes, I know.. illegal. Pfff, legality.). The mom had texted me a few minutes before I'd left my house, saying that they wouldn't be home till nearly 2, and could I come then? It's a 20 minute drive and I was halfway there - and it was only 12:45. I contemplated turning around, and then I contemplated just camping out in their driveway and reading. Then I drove over a bridge and saw the cemetery to my left, so I turned at the next light and found myself walking through the pristine lawns on my way to the mausoleum. There were 3 or 4 funerals there today - none taking place while I was there, but they all had fresh mounds of dirt and signs with the family names nearby. There weren't a ton of people there, but during the hour I stayed I saw a few cars come and go with visitors in suits. In the handful of times I've visited Papa's grave, I've never seen people aside from gardeners there. I think maybe that's why today's visit didn't make me as sad as most cemetery visits do - it took me out of my head. Other people lose loved ones, too. Other people cry. Other people drive away afterward and go on with their lives.

The last time I was there, I think, was on Papa's birthday, back in October. I met Jon and Kate there after class and we sat together for a long while on the pew nearest the wall where he is. Apparently he told Mom that he wanted us all to come and visit his grave - which really tore me up for a while, because I hate cemeteries. They've always freaked me out. But I've been trying to force myself to go, so that it'll get easier; I owe that to Papa at least. The mausoleum, especially, always gave me the creeps, but I AM getting better at it. Although I'll admit that when I walked through a narrower part of the room, where the walls were closer together, I felt a little claustrophobic and the idea of standing there so close between dead people freaked me out. Anyway. Today when I went in, I first sat on the pew for a while, but then I got up and spent almost an hour walking around, looking at inscriptions on the plaques. Intermittently found between the generic "beloved so-and-so"'s were some truly lovely inscriptions. It's oddly comforting to read those; people really do love each other. Some people spend their whole lives together - what a marvelous adventure that must be. It did break my heart, though, when I came to plaques for a husband and wife who had died like 15 years apart or something... the inscription written by the spouse who was left behind was just so... lonely. It really made me sad. And then there are the couples who die in the same year. It must have been quite a love, to make you simply give up after your spouse has died.

When 2 o'clock rolled around, I drove up to the house and stayed until 5. The kids were feeling rather scientific today, so we made science experiments in the kitchen all afternoon. Cue: outrageous messes and me cleaning up every step of the way. Ah well. They enjoyed it, anyway.

On the way home I stopped at the harbor again. (I did that yesterday too; don't think I mentioned that.) I've been there almost every day of the week; I didn't realize how much I missed the place until I went there with Amelia on Tuesday. Walking alone used to make me nervous, but I'm either growing more brave or more careless. Not sure which, but it makes quiet walks much nicer. If you don't see me much, you probably don't know this - but being with people exhausts me. I mean I love them - and when I'm with them, I don't realize it. But this habit started sometime last year, where I have to go up to my room and hang out alone for a good 10 or 15 minutes after I come home from someplace. I go crazy if I don't have that amount of time to myself. Sounds lame, I know, but it's just true. These walks, I think, are a good way of calming me down too, though. Now when I come home after being gone all day, I don't need to hide in my room for quite so long. Walking at the harbor has already cleared my head. It's a good little arrangement for us.

Speaking of coming home.... oh yeah, a bit of news. HILLSDALE ACCEPTED ME! My first college acceptance letter! I'm actually rather hesitant about getting tooooo excited over this... because I've recently learned that Hillsdale has an extremely picky core curriculum, and if I went there it would add at least one semester (probably a year) to my college-attending-stint. Whiiich would be too bad. Negative point number 2 is that part of this core curriculum includes a college algebra class - which, yes, I've already taken... but I'd have to take THEIRS. Ugh. Also, I don't think they're going to offer me much financial aid - which sucks. Soooo there are definite cons. But oh the pros. It looks like such a good school - all these things aside, I mean. I guess I'll have to wait to hear from Wheaton, and then I can figure it all out. It was just really good to hear of at least one place accepting me. Hurrah!

Okay, it's now almost midnight - I took a break to eat dinner and watch "The Tree of Life" with the family. Definitely beautiful cinematography, and excellent acting. But hell's bells - WHAT? Most of it I got, I think.... but sometimes I felt really stupid. Mostly, however, I feel like the director was trying to mess with our minds in the name of art - which was heinously pretentious of him. He pulled most of it off - but I saw through him. Tsk tsk.

Also... ugh. I was being really stupid with last night's post. This stuff isn't worth getting upset about; it's hardly even worth writing about. (Yup - now I'm a cynic. Er... MORE of a cynic...) I was fine before it all came along, and I'll be fine now. Forgetting/locking-up it is.

15 days. Wow. I'm so ready for this.

You the dancer and I the dreamer, children together.

This is disappointing. I've not written pretty much all month long? Inexcusable. Even more inexcusable is that, blogging aside, I've not written in a half year at least. UGH. I'm so uninspired when living a normal-person life. It's actually alarming how much I don't miss school (a bad sign for the next two or three years of my life, which will be spent in university)... but this lethargy is killing me. When I'm not at work, I feel like I'm wasting the time that I had so many hopes and plans for. This is mostly because work tires me out - flat out kills me, sometimes, but I can't talk about that here - so when I AM home, I'm far too tired to feel inspired. I haven't even read a book yet. I've tried reading "Brideshead Revisited" but am having a damnably hard time with it. I did recently acquire "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" from Megan, though, so I shall try my luck with that when my eyes don't hurt too much to read. (And no, me spending my time writing instead of reading is not hypocritical. I hardly watch the screen when I type. Also, I NEED TO WRITE DAMNIT.)

Speaking of work, I was there for 8 hours today. I am ambushed by exhaustion. And I REALLY want some coffee, but I can't make a whole pot just for myself... and agh. So I had two glasses of wine around dinner time, which (surprise!) didn't help me feel alert. That was a few hours ago though, so now I simply feel averagely tired and averagely bored and averagely in need of caffeine. Which I don't have. bleh. Anyway... rabbit trail. What I MEANT to say was, speaking of work, although today had its ridiculous moments, there was one moment that really warmed my heart. I've really learned a lot in this nannying business, and feel like a much more mature (well-rounded, at least) person for it. I never really had that much experience with kids before. I feel that I get on well with the younger two, especially - they really like me, and by much trial and error I have figured out how to get them on my side and how to get them to do what I want them to do. (Most of the time.) And sometimes they get surprisingly attached to me. Today, I was sitting with the 3 year-old on my lap while we watched his 7 year-old sister play games on the computer. He was playing with my hands for a while, and then eventually put them to rest on his stomach, so that I had my arms around him. I realized that their mom had asked me to take out the trash, and I'd forgotten - so I told him I had to get up and that I'd be right back. He gasped and said, "What? No! I just... I just want to hold you."

Gah. asdfkanerlknlkfffff. <3

Sheesh, this is tough. I really owe my blog an update (Katrina, at least), but I'm tired. Plus, I'm frustrated about things that I don't want to write about. Nothing makes sense these days. Stupid.

ahem...

Oh! Hey, so Valentines Day. I wasn't looking forward to it this year, because every year of my relatively recent history has been spent with Amelia, eating fancy home-made meals and watching "Pride and Prejudice". But Amelia had to babysit this year. So I was kinda bummed... but it ended up being a nice day. Since we couldn't spend the evening together, Amelia and I went out to breakfast (which, we decided, is what all single people probably do) and then went to the mall. I then convinced her to skip her only class of the day, and we went to the harbor and hung out for most of the day. When she went home, I came back to my house and Kate and I played "LOTR Trivial Pursuit", a game which we were quite obsessed with in our youth and haven't touched in a good seven or eight years. Reverting to our crazy childhood selves + wine and chocolate = a very fascinating and fabulous evening. Dad BBQ'd some steaks and the four of us ate dinner (Mom and Dad have never really gone out for V-day), annnnd... then we watched "Moneyball". Except that it was heinously boring. So Kate went to bed, and I followed suit a bit later. So it was a pretty pleasant day, over all. Except towards the end some weird things went down with some friends of mine and me... so that made the ending a little unpleasant. But yeah. I shouldn't start writing about that here.

GAH. SEE, this is why I haven't been writing!!! Katrina. You see what blogger does to me?!

sigh.

Yesterday (Wednesday, that is), I did absolutely nothing during the day. WAIT, not true. I got a haircut. A trim, really - and it actually looks really good. Just a quarter inch or so to clear the split ends, and then I got it thinned quite a bit so that it doesn't look all mangy and over-grown like it has been for the past 8 months. I haven't gotten a haircut in 8 months, isn't that weird? My hair grows so slowly. Anyway - oh, the lady also straightened it (I guess straight hair is easier to cut) and while it definitely looks better curly, the straight hair thing didn't look BAD by any means... at least I didn't think so. But towards the later part of the afternoon I went back to the harbor to meet a friend of mine, and midway through a conversation he looked over at me and said, "So... when does your hair go back to itself?" hahaha. My hair was having an identity crisis, clearly. Somehow I knew that he wouldn't like whatever I did with my hair at that salon. It's like how my dad has never approved of my hair. Guys just don't like changes with girls' hair. What's with that?

Anyway. I hung out with him for a few hours; it's been a while since I was at the harbor with somebody who had never been there, and I forgot how much joy I get in showing them the fabulous little secret places around the marina, and telling them funny stories about who did what when... stuff like that. I don't know any place in California that makes me as nostalgic as that harbor.

I guess one thing that I can say is that I'm frustrated with myself lately for not being as good to my friends as they are to me. I went to my favorite place with my two best friends, on two consecutive days, and walked around with each of them for hours... and thinking back on it, I really only contributed stupid things like "yeah" or "right" to any meaningful conversation. Not because I wasn't paying attention, or even because I couldn't think of anything to say.... I just... gah. I don't know. I feel like I just have to hold back sometimes. Which is stupid, because with my best friends of ALL PEOPLE, I shouldn't hold back. But I do. I don't really know why. Jeremy kinda called me on it, in a roundabout way - about how I don't really talk about my issues while I'm going through them. That's kinda true. And it's kinda lame of me. I mean I don't want to be the complete opposite, and ONLY talk about my problems... but I should be able to open up to the people who open up to me. And I don't. That realization makes me feel very selfish, and very unworthy of their friendship. Their love, really. I've been feeling that way a lot recently, actually - undeserving, I mean. Selfish, too. (Wow, lots of sentence fragments. You'd think an English Major would know better. I like how I capitalized "major".) Most of this comes back to the things that I don't want to write about... which really doesn't help either of us (me and the blogging world) in this instance. SEE WHAT I MEAN, I HOLD BACK. Annnnd... my laptop is dying because Kate stole my cord. Anyway. Okay, basically I don't know what I want out of certain life situations and I feel like I'm screwing up some very valuable friendships because of it. Simple enough to explain that way. (Y'know, I should count how many sentence fragments I do...) I feel like I'm in the dangerous middle-ground, between being a responsible friend who does the hard (but RIGHT!) thing, and the girl who goes for what feels good right now. Which is bad. BAD BAD BAD. Even just the fact that the latter idea has occurred to me makes me feel like an awful person. Worse, an awful friend.

I can't stand it. In the past, most of my drama has been so internalized that I was the only one (or one of a very small number of people) who was aware of it. But this is different. No matter what I do, I feel like I'm going to confuse people (myself included) and hurt them. And I can't take that kind of responsibility. I can get over instances where I confuse and hurt myself... that's easy. Just tell myself that it didn't happen and lock it away in some distant memory-room in my mind. (Seriously. It's alarming how easily I can do that.) But if I confuse and hurt someone that I care about... that's different. I can't forget that, and I certainly can't lock it away.

sigh. Growing pains.

Well! That was a bit long-winded. I don't know if I had anything else to say, update-wise, but I feel like I've said enough on this post. I teach tomorrow morning, and then I work from 1 to 5. I'm not sure what the evening holds, but I'll be happy, so long as it's not a stressful social situation... but seeing as how I have no plans, I don't think it will be.

This post was very... awkwardly worded. Ah well. Probably much more like my actual thought process than most posts. (Dissatisfying, isn't it?) If you think to, I'd appreciate prayers. I need to get over myself and treat these situations as they deserve to be treated - not how my anxiety-ridden conscience feels that they should be treated.

It is now February 17, even if this post is listed under the 16th. It's 12:07. I'm leaving in 16 days. WHAAAAATTTT.

Okay. Goodnight, folks.

Poetry knocks me out.

April Midnight
by Arthur Symons

Side by side through the streets at midnight,
Roaming together,
Through the tumultuous night of London,
In the miraculous April weather.

Roaming together under the gaslight,
Day’s work over,
How the Spring calls to us, here in the city,
Calls to the heart from the heart of a lover!

Cool to the wind blows, fresh in our faces,
Cleansing, entrancing,
After the heat and the fumes and the footlights,
Where you dance and I watch your dancing.

Good it is to be here together,
Good to be roaming,
Even in London, even at midnight,
Lover-like in a lover’s gloaming.

You the dancer and I the dreamer,
Children together,
Wandering lost in the night of London,
In the miraculous April weather.

P.S.

I'm losing my mind. Why is it that I can never figure out what I want? I swear sometimes I'm two people.

I need to go throw darts at a board.

More disturbing dreams.

Okay, I need to stop sleeping or something. These dreams are getting too weird.

Yesterday afternoon I crashed on the couch and slept for an hour or two. I had a dream that my family was staying in some cabin up in the mountains, and I went downstairs one morning to find a squirrel sitting on our porch. How nice, I thought. I open the door and look closer, and the squirrel is carrying another squirrel's head in its mouth. Freaked out, I go back inside, and find that the rest of the body is in our living room. Guts everywhere. I kept going from room to room to get away from it, but with every new room I came to, I saw new body parts of dead squirrels scattered about. It sounds weird, sure, but it actually really disturbed me. You know how some dreams just do that to you?

Then last night I dreamt that my family and a host of other families that we know were in a church for some very formal ceremony. Oddly enough it was conducted by my dad, but the service itself was actually very Roman Catholic. It was either the baptism or dedication of some kind of one of my friends - a girl that I respect a great deal. We were all sitting in the pews, and my friend came out from the back of the church wearing a white robe, followed by a ceremonial little entourage of church-folk. Halfway down the aisle, she stopped walking and looked very, very intently at the people around her. "Don't laugh at me. Please." She said, her voice sounding incredibly small and pleading. She kept repeating herself, over and over, somehow holding intense eye contact with every person in the church. I was thinking, This is crazy - how on earth could I ever laugh at you? "Please, don't laugh at me." The weight of her voice made me feel suddenly heartbroken, and I felt disgusting for making her think that I could possibly laugh at her. She was just staring at me, begging me, "Please." And I couldn't think of anything to say.

Lyric-wise, one of my favorite songs right now.

"Always Gold" by Radical Face

We were tight knit boys,
Brothers in more then name.
You would kill for me
And knew that I'd do the same.
And it cut me sharp
Hearing you'd gone away,
But everything goes away;
Yeah everything goes away.

But I'm going to be here until I'm nothing
But bones in the ground

And I was there, when you grew restless,
Left in the dead of night.
And I was there, when three months later,
You were standing in the door all beat and tired,
And I stepped aside.

Everything goes away,
Yeah everything goes away.
But I'm gonna be here until I'm nothing
But bones in the ground,
So quiet down.

We were opposites at birth;
I was steady as a hammer.
No one worried 'cause they knew just where I'd be.
And they said you were the crooked kind,
And that you'd never have no worth,
But you were always gold to me.

And back when we were kids,
We swore we knew the future,
And our words would take us half way 'round the world.
But I never left this town,
And you never saw New York,
And we ain't ever crossed the sea.

But I am fine with where I am now:
This home is home, and all that I need.
But for you, this place is shame,
But you can blame me when there's no one left to blame;
I don't mind.

All my life,
I've never known where you've been.
There were holes in you,
The kind that I could not mend.
And I heard you say
Right when you left that day,
"Does everything go away?"
Yeah, everything goes away.

But I'm going to be here 'til forever
So just call when you're around.

Caffeine and mimes.

I started on coffee again today. Aaaaaand my voice kind of came back! But then it left again. But the good news is that it was there for awhile. Maybe this week will be normal, finally.

Then again... what's normal, anyway?

I'm just happy for good coffee and people who give you sips of theirs when coffee is nowhere to be found in the GIRL'S sleeping quarters. God bless my coffee-drinking friends. Once I got a taste for it again this morning, I decided to make a pot when I got home tonight. So I did. Unfortunately, I've been out of practice for almost two weeks... and the coffee suffered. Ah well. Beggars can't be choosers.

Also, mime camp was good. I'm bruised and sleep-deprived, but happy, I think. Definitely glad I went.

Goodnight.

Nobody said it was easy; no one ever said it would be so hard.

I've never had so much tea in my life. IN FACT - and this is amazing, to anyone who knows me remotely well - I haven't had coffee in... let's see, it was last Wednesday. A week and a day. How ridiculous. And it's all because I'm still sick, y'see, and I have this weird psychology about eating/drinking things that I like when I'm sick. Once I have something when I'm sick, it always reminds me of being sick. So when I'm under the weather, I never drink coffee. Instead I drink tea, quite fanatically. I'm so tired of being sick; luckily my fever went away on Sunday, but my sore throat hasn't, and unfortunately my voice HAS. Gone - completely. Capoot. And I'm supposed to lead worship tomorrow at mime camp, too. (Yes, there actually is such a thing. Although, it's funny that me not having a voice should be an issue... at mime camp...)

Whoa, I just had a major deja vu. WEIRD.

Well shoot. I haven't written about anything worthwhile in so long... and now that I have a free evening, I can't think of anything. Story of my life. There's just too much to cover. Suffice it to say that I'm exhausted; mostly from being sick, although nannying does exact a heavy price from my physical and mental well-being, too. I took off last Thursday and Friday, because those were the worst two days of being sick... but I've worked every day since, and it's exhausting! It's teaching me a lot, though. I feel like a mini-mom; a tiring, sometimes rewarding and sometimes terrifying, feeling. I go to work (usually) at 1 in the afternoon and come home around dinner time. Most of the days I've been feeling lousy, so I try to sleep in when I can... but then when I come home, I'm too tired to actually DO anything that I enjoy. So I've been wasting a lot of the time on the computer, reading some, writing even less, and watching TV with Mom and Kate when I'm too beat to do anything else. I can't wait to get healthy again. I'm gonna whip myself back into shape. This morning I studied French for about an hour; just because. When I took it at VC (almost two years ago now), I actually got pretty darn good at it and could figure out how to say most anything. Since then it's kind of slipped away - but I don't want it to. So I've decided, in the absence of my normal school load, to re-learn the language. I enjoyed it quite a bit, although there's only so far I can get with a textbook and my old notebooks. I have The Little Prince in French - maybe I should just read that a bunch of times. Who knows. I've got time to figure it out.

Speaking of time. It's SO WEIRD not being at school. I've actually given the "I have to do homework" excuse to people when asked to go out, just because it's automatic. When people ask how I'm doing or how they can pray for me, I want to say, "I could use prayer for school" because that's been my LIFE for like 13 years. I don't miss the college at all, but I do miss seeing my friends every day. I actually get kind of sad when I drive by it on the way to work every day - they're all there, I think. And then I feel very strangely alone. I spend more time with 3-11 year olds than I do with my family or my best friends; and then when I DO see my family and best friends, I can't think of anything to talk about. How dumb is that?

sigh. My mind is jumping all over the place. Right now I'm thinking about people and how weird it is that my age group is getting married and having babies and weird stuff like that. Granted, the baby thing at 18 IS still looked upon as premature. But still... it's happening. And other people are going out, and talking to peoples dads, and agh. When did all of that start, anyway? Who said my friends could go and do that?

Secondly, and totally unrelatedly, I've been thinking lately about the word "good." I feel like there should be (and possibly are) complete books discussing ONLY that word. I always stayed away from using it as a compliment, because it's so over-used and has lost so much of its meaning... "How did you like the new Twilight?" "Oh... it was pretty good." You know? It's basically come to mean the same thing as "fine" or "okay". Or at least that's what I thought. Being a writer, I always tried to come up with more eloquent ways of phrasing compliments or other strong descriptions. BUT. The other day I was thinking about it - and the word "good" really is the most honest way to convey what a GOOD THING IS. God didn't wax eloquence when he created the world; He didn't need to say "It is amazing" or "It is incredible" or even "It is beautiful". He said "It is Good", and that described it perfectly. So I've started using that word again, but only in instances when I actually feel like it really is Good. It's strange, but lately I've had a growing respect for a certain few words. I suppose that's one of them now.

Sheesh, I wish I could get rid of this cough. And that I could get my voice back. I'm sick of all this tea.

I know I'm so blessed to have a steady job with steady pay... but I'm so tired. The last two days have been really rough - with me feeling sick and the kids being particularly unruly - and I'm not looking forward to tomorrow. Just knowing that I have to drive to mime camp straight after work, where I'll be until Saturday night, is kind of an exhausting thought, too. I mean I love being with the mime kids, but... I just want to SLEEP. And go see movies this weekend. Oscars Sunday is coming up and I intend to see at least six movies before then.

OH! I saw the most GORGEOUS sunset on Tuesday. I was just leaving work to go to a friends house, about 40 minutes away, and I saw the sky's color in my rear view mirror. I promptly turned around and chased the sunset. I didn't stop driving until I reached a hilltop, where I parked and watched the sun go down behind the islands. They were actually and perfectly purple! I've never seen that before. It was absolutely the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen.

I need to read more. I need to WRITE more. I started writing a short story about the roman catholic church downtown that I walk by on Fridays, but I went dry after a page. I went inside, a few weeks ago while I was walking the street on a Friday morning - I don't think I ever wrote about that here. I've had a growing curiosity about that place, walking so near it when I'm out for my "sanctuary" of silence, aloneness, and autumn leaves after I teach my art class at Groups. I think it was just before Christmas when I finally got up the courage to go inside. I think it's really cool that catholic churches are open all the time, for people to come in and pray. I wonder if there's ever a time when a catholic church is actually empty - there were some apparent regulars who were there when I came in and still there when I left, but more people came and went during the hour I stayed. I was surprised how similar in architecture it was to some gothic churches in Prague - I guess it's just the roman catholic design. This one is just much smaller, newer, and Hispanic-ized. When I walked in there was a school group of little kids coming out, and about halfway through my time inside, another group came in. Funny; that was how I first came in. Seven years old, trailing along in a suspicious band of protestant children. We were on a field trip, I think simply to see the architecture or something. This particular Friday, I watched the second group of Hispanic kids come in from my seat towards the back; their teacher, a seemingly strict little man with glasses and a crew-cut, made sure that each of them knelt and crossed themselves in the aisle before sitting down. One girl only got down on one knee before jumping to her seat, and he made her do it all over again. There was a girl who came in in her pajamas (she was in and out in about three minutes), and then there were two old women who knelt at the very front of the alter and didn't move the whole time. The one that struck me most was the woman who prayed while slowly (very slowly) going up and down the aisle on her knees. She would stop every once in a while and look over her shoulder, almost ashamedly, to check if anyone was watching. It was hard not to notice her, though - even with my eyes closed, I could hear her knees dragging across the carpet. And all I could think was, wow. I'm glad God doesn't force us to do this. Maybe we should, though. Not because His grace isn't enough, but because we are so incredibly disgusting and undeserving. I've come to realize, through conversation and observation of my catholic friends and others, that a lot of catholics really wouldn't say that God's grace is unfinished, or that our works have more power than His mercy and love. I think that these views are what the original thought has evolved into. But it seems to me that, by doing humbling things like going up and down an aisle on our knees, we are recognizing to ourselves and others how very undeserving we are. It doesn't change God's mind; it changes our perspective.

I don't know if that's defensible using scripture; I haven't given it a ton of thought before now, so I haven't looked around to see what the Bible says. I do know, however, that there are countless verses about God's perfect and finished gift - and there are also verses about how faith and works are related, and how we need to humble ourselves before God. I can understand that there is danger in ritualizing our repentance; but it seems to me that if it comes from the heart, there is nothing wrong with showing how humbled we are and how dependent we are on God's Good Grace.

Well. I just wrote on and off for about an hour. It is now almost 11:30, and I'm still (unsurprisingly, since I didn't nap in the past hour) tired. So I'm going to put these thoughts to rest for now and bid you, dear reader, goodnight.

I'll try to write here more often, so my future posts won't be so jumbled and confused. Until then... vive la confusion!

Second to being born, second to dying, too...

I spent today in a large arm-chair in the living room, watching Frasier episodes on my laptop. Yesterday it disgusted me to waste that much time, but today I embraced my poor little sicky-self and decided to give it one more day. Tomorrow, no more sick lady! My friend is having a birthday party and I intend to be there.

Anyway. I came up to my room about an hour ago with the intention of going to sleep, but upon getting into bed, I realized that I wasn't tired. Unfortunately my eyes hurt too much for reading, and I was sick of watching TV. So I pulled out my box. I keep a box under my desk - one of those largish decorative boxes meant to store photos or whatnot - that I've been putting all important documents and small items in for about two years. It's not quite what I would call a "joy box", as I've heard these things referred to sometimes, because in my box I also have things that make me sad. But that doesn't make them any less important. I guess it's more of a time capsule than anything. It holds the highlights of the past two years. And it has pictures of New York in sepia on it - so that makes it cool, too. Anyway, I was going through it and reading old notes from friends and family (birthday, graduation, happy-any-day...) and I began to feel very happy. I forget, sometimes, how much people love me and - perhaps more importantly - how much I love people. Suddenly I became aware of the song that was playing (Fox in the Snow by Belle and Sebastian) and the lyric that repeats several times at the end: "What else would you do? What else would you do?"

As I was lying here with all of these "highlights" around me - letters and photos and theater ticket stubs, my graduation diploma and the program from The Dining Room, the bulletin from my grandfather's funeral and the onesie that announced my niece's birth, as well as the ticket for any train, boat or plane ride I've ever been on - I found myself listening to the song's question and thinking, not much. All of these things have led me to be here - and sure, where I am now is not a perfect place. I mean my throat hurts horribly and I still have a bit of a fever, and I've spent two days in bed doing nothing, which kind of sucks.

But the world is still such a good place to be. I have a warm bed with a strangely affectionate (albeit sociopathic) cat, and my strand of multi-colored twinkle lights with fake holly is still draped around my window. I'm in a house with three people that I care about very much, and there are quite a few other people that I care about who live relatively close to me. I even have people that I care about clear across the world! I'm usually healthy and I have many opportunities to do the things that I love. I have a God who I can love and trust without fear or rejection or disappointment. The sun comes up in a few hours and I will be here to greet it.

And really, how awesome is that?

Bugger.

I'm sick. Like really really sick. Mom thinks it's strepp throat, or strep throat, or however you spell it. All I think is that I'm dying.

Not really. But it's not pleasant. I called in sick to work and spent literally all day long in bed. Then tonight I got a fever, so I called in sick for TOMORROW as well, and also told Amelia that I can't come to class to teach in the morning. Well, I've handled the last three classes on my own so she should be able to take this one. Plus it'll be good practice for the weeks when I'm gone. I will miss my walks downtown afterward, though. I hate the idea of spending another day in bed... but honestly that's all I felt capable of doing today.

Lame lame lame.

Ferris wheels carried us away, not so long ago.

Okay, so specifics on the job: I'm working every weekday from 1 to 5. That's a lot of money each week - YAY. It looks a little on the scary side, though - I mean they're sweet kids, it seems, just very needy and thus purposely difficult. But I'll suspend judgement until I've actually worked there for long enough to judge properly.

In other news, today I got some really sad news about someone that I care about very much. Nobody died or anything... it's just life that is being the problem. Lately it seems that the people I love are going through impossibly hard things and I hate it. I hate that they are suffering, I hate not being able to do anything for them, and I hate not having anyone to blame for it. I hate that the impossible problems hit the most fragile people; it's so unfair. I've actually felt physically sick about it all evening - worse than I usually feel when something happens to ME.

Strange, the things that break our hearts.

All I want is love eternally, with your heart facing me.

I'm tired. I could probably get in bed right now and be asleep in about five minutes, but I don't want to. I'm not sure if it's because I don't want to be asleep or because I'm just not ready to call it quits for today. The latter one doesn't make much sense though, based on today. I mean the afternoon with the family was lovely... but as far as the rest of it went... I've had better days. Sheesh, my mind feels so disorganized right now. I blame the ads on Pandora. What wretched ads, too.

Shoot. I'm really not doing well right now. I mean I should be, by all rights... things have really started to come together for me in the past few days and tomorrow will be a hugely telling day as to how all of that is going to pan out. (I have a few jobs lined up, mostly babysitting/tutoring things, and all through homeschool families! I don't actually know any of them, but they seem to trust me and they know that I'm leaving in March, so I don't have to feel guilty about leaving anyone unexpectedly.) Tomorrow from 12 to 2 is sort of a "trial period" for me and one family, who is wanting to hire me as a regular addition to the household staff for weekday afternoons. If I click with this family, I will be so happy. The mom seems very efficient and business-like, and I like that in employers. Plus, I'll be making close to $200 a week, if I did the math correctly. She is also the co-owner of the family fishing business, and wants to take advantage of my speedy and accurate typing skills for data entry stuff - which sounds great to me. I can do mindless mundane office-y jobs. I am a bit nervous, however, about one situation with that family. The mom also wants to see if I can help tutor their oldest son, who is autistic. Well, autistic, ADHD, and dyslexic. While I've tutored before, I've had no experience with autistic kids. Of course I'm more than willing to give it a shot; I'm not worried about it being difficult or inconvenient or anything. I'm just worried about seeming unprepared and ill-informed - because, well, I kind of am. I'm just worried about not being given a chance. I can step up to pretty much any challenge if I feel like I'm allowed one error or two along the way.

Anyway. A few other job openings like this one have opened up, so I should be set for the next two months - which is awesome. I realize that this is an incredible blessing and that God is amazing for providing for me even when I was being stupid and worrying over my own little problems. But speaking of my own little problems, my joy has temporarily been stolen by some other weird life situations. At least I hope it's temporary.

Ew - I actually feel physically sick right now. Maybe I should be asleep. Or maybe I just need to not think about this stuff.

Suffice it to say that I've become very disillusioned about myself this year. I know very little about other people these days - strange, because I feel like I used to understand them so well - and I understand myself only a little better than that. And I don't particularly like what I see. In particular, I don't like how I deal with problems. I've been in a weird and awkward standstill with a good friend for a few days, and tonight I tried to set things straight. I'm not sure what I accomplished, if anything. I feel like I only made the situation more strange and vague than it was before. I need to get better at communicating. I feel like, the more I interact with people, the worse I get at valid communication.

My eyes are closing. I'm gonna go to sleep. Hopefully I'll have specifics about work tomorrow, and maybe I'll write in the evening or sometime like it. It's after midnight by now and I have a long day ahead of me.

I hope things are well for you, in whatever time zone and country you are in. I hope that you are having or have just had a good rest. The world needs more present, rested people about.
G'night.

Like embers from burning trees.

I don't know how good it is for me to listen to such melancholy music this much... but I'm obsessed with Sea Wolf. Their lyrics are incredible. Every time.


Good Morning, dear,
I hope I didn't wake you too soon.
Because my mind is growing tired;
Too much thinking what I should do.
I picture you out there:
It must be beautiful this time of year,
All those East Coast leaves
Floating round like embers from burning trees.
Well the weather out here is just the same,
But the garden that you planted remains.

Now its only work,
Each day bleeding into the next.
Barely scraping by, I tire myself out just so I can rest.
But rest, it rarely comes,
And when it does I cannot go home
Because it's much too quiet.
Seems that I'm not suited to being alone.
And everyone around me's changed,
But the garden that you planted remains.

I think about you,
Maybe more than I should.
But the smog is getting old;
The drugs I'm taking aren't so good.
So will you talk to me,
Even though you've had a late night?
Because I need a little help.
Baby, tell me I'll be alright.
Cause everything around me's changed,
But the garden that you planted remains.

Oy.

I've been having really weird, disturbing dreams for about a week straight. I can't really think of any reason - I'm not watching anything that should give me bad dreams, or reading anything particularly disturbing, or anything like that. I just keep having dreams about dead bodies and monsters and life-and-death situations and huge spiders. I know that bad dreams aren't that big of a deal, at least not normally, but these ones actually are truly disturbing. Every morning I wake up feeling stressed and confused and afraid. Not fun.

A bright star and dancing flower.

If there is a prize for Most Sentimental Packrat, I should win a close second after my father. That is, the younger version of me should win it. Recently I've grown disgruntled with all of the old junk in our house and since I can't get rid of anything that doesn't belong to ME, I've been going through my closet and drawers and throwing everything away. Or most everything. I've found several wonderful old notes from family members, or pictures that I drew, and other various items that I deem worthy of keeping. They're still going in a drawer that I don't plan on opening for another few years... but still. I don't have the heart to throw some of these things away.

One of these un-throw-away-able items was a note from Ami. I'm guessing it came after I finished my first year in a "real" elementary school, which would have been 2000, when I was about seven. I wish this was on one piece of paper so that I could frame it.

Dear Laura, Our Lollipop,
To say that you are a delight to Papa and me IS NOT enough. You are our bright star and dancing flower. School is out for a while - we're so proud of your accomplishments and wish you joy during your freedom.
Love always,
Your Papa and Ami

In light of everything that's going on right now (today especially... today - ugghhhhhh), I almost cried when I found this note. A person is a fool who says that encouraging words are unnecessary. I don't think I would survive without things like this.

Simply something nice.

Today the leadership team for mime (there are 10 of us to lead a team of about 40) got together to talk about our plans for the next semester. Somebody mentioned a song and I said that I hadn't heard or seen that one performed before. "Which isn't surprising, because I've only been on the team for a year." (Well, technically a year and a half by now.) Daniel looked at me and said, "Really?! That so weird. I feel like you've been here forever." I asked him if that was a compliment and he said, "Yeah. I mean you just... you fit in exactly right here."

I don't think anybody has ever said that to me before. It was a nice feeling.

This is going to sound bipolar coming after my idealistic, excited post from earlier today... but I'm freaking out. My whole plan was to get a job for the next two months so that I wouldn't be completely broke when I come back in May... but all the sudden my mom is telling me that that's stupid and impossible, and that there's no way I can get a job (or should, in good conscience) for just two months.

I have no idea what to do for the next eight weeks. I mean, she's kind of right - I wouldn't tell the company (if I got hired) that I would be leaving in March, and I think that would make me feel guilty. I just wish I'd thought of this before. I mean I tried to get a job before Christmas, but nobody was hiring.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I'm really freaked out right now.

Death by excitement. Or joy. Or adventurism. Or something.

I'm going to Ireland in less than two months. First of all, I need to buy books (many books!) about Ireland's history and the cool places to go. Not just a tourist book (although one of those may be helpful, too). Secondly, or perhaps this should have been first... it occurred to me last night that I may not be in that part of Europe again for a very long time, if indeed I'm fortunate enough to go back at all. SO. I've decided that whatever the cost of trains, ferries and hostels, and however many days I have to go eating only baguettes (if I can afford them at all), I'm going to travel through England to London, Dover, and then to Calais and Paris. I could only do this for about a week altogether, probably at the most... because my funds are unfortunately limited. BUT, I'm going to do it.

My desired book list is now this:
-A history of Ireland (or at least the wider Dublin area)
-A tour guide of Ireland
-A tour guide of London
-A list of cool places to see on the road from Holyhead to London
-A guide of Paris
-A blank book to write about all of this in once I get there. (I'm not taking my big old laptop for this fleet-footed excursion.)

Which brings me to another thought. I've been considering starting a separate blog for which to write about all of this Ireland-stuff. That way, when people ask for updates, I can just direct them to that and they won't have to weed through all of this random ramble to get to it. Thoughts? I suppose I could just write a book about it all when I come back... but this generation is all about instant gratification, you know? Writers included.

Also, if any of you has tips for cheap European travel, I'd love to hear them. Hostel prices especially seem difficult to locate. Perhaps because I've only just started looking and I'm not quite sure where I SHOULD be looking.

This is all kind of overwhelming. I didn't sleep last night because I was wondering if I could really do it or not. I proposed it to the parents this morning, though, and they seemed surprisingly for it. It makes me happy that they aren't all stressed and worried about me. Well, don't get me wrong - they probably are. Mom will probably be dying with worry the whole time I'm over there. But they stand up for me - that's the important thing. When I tell people what I'm going to do, they often look at my parents and say, "You're allowing this? Aren't you worried?" And they say something like, "Of course. But she'll be alright." I like that about them. It may hurt my pride a little to say so, but I don't think I'd be quite so brave if they weren't - or at the very least, if they weren't pretending to be.

Shoot. March is only two months away. I've got to plan! I've got to read! I've got to get a job and get money!!!!

... two months. How am I going to survive until then?

So raise a glass to turnings of the season!

Well hello, new year. Hello, new little category to the right that is mostly empty under the drop-down arrow titled "2012". Hello, tabula rasa activity log on facebook. This is rather a nice feeling. I know it's kind of silly to think that everything changes from 11:59 PM on December 31st to 12:00 AM on January 1st... but right now I feel a rather nice clean feeling about life.

Also, if you haven't noticed, it is not Tuesday - which means that I'm still in the mountains in an over-heated 3-story "cabin" north of Lake Tahoe. We discovered a few days ago, however, that there actually IS internet here - and though I've been trying not to abuse it, I figured that I might as well take an afternoon to write to you. It's been a lovely week up here, although I have done only about 1 billionth of the reading that I wanted to do. Oddly enough, family, babies, and certain card games seem to take up the majority of the time. But that's alright. I'm trying to turn from my hermit-ways and enjoy it all while I have it. Also, I've been thinking a lot about the next few months and have decided to make this spring semester my best yet. I've already made plans with Kate to go jogging every morning (we'll see how long that actually lasts... but for now, it's a plan). This means that I will be waking up earlier, taking a shower when normal people do, and (provided I can get a job soon) working normal-people hours. I will then come home, drink coffee, and read or write to my heart's content. I have my doubts about all of this idealness, but then - why not? Human willpower is an incredible thing. I'm sure that a peaceful, productive lifestyle is quite possible. I just have to not doubt myself.

I've also been thinking about what to say for that promised update. And I have decided that I'm not going to write it. None of it was really positive or useful or good to dwell on - and, realistically, some of it will probably pop up again. And maybe I'll be in the mood to write about it then. I just feel like there's no point in going back to old thoughts and feelings and grumblings, no matter how poetic they were - and this isn't just because it's a new year. I've been realizing that for awhile. There's really no point in holding onto the frustrating things that I often do. As long as my mind and heart are feeling clean-slate, I shall follow that path and not muddy my thinking with old problems. I hope that I will hold myself to that.

At 11:55 PM on New Year's Eve, it's usually tradition for the family to sit around the table and (with one eye on the clock) talk about New Year's resolutions. While I didn't actually list any, I was very aware of the fact that the family was counting "travel" as my top priority. I have mixed feelings about this. It's been occurring to me more and more lately that traveling - or being the "world traveler", as I've come to be known, thanks to Katrina's films - has become my "thing". That's how a lot of people think of me. And of course, the vain part of me likes to have a cool label that everyone knows about - like being the girl with fabulous earrings, or the red scarf. That sort of thing makes me feel good, like there's at least one part of me that is absolutely true. But recently it's started to make me feel very strange. It's as if everyone has just begun to assume that I'll run out on them after a while - like I'm not capable of staying in one place. I know that's a little melodramatic of me; I don't actually feel that that's entirely true. It's just the best way that I know how to describe the feeling that all of this gives me.

Anyway - that was a rabbit trail. But I started saying all of that because it's been making me kind of sad lately. Then last night, when my family kept suggesting that "traveling" is my New Year's resolution, I realized something. I will be doing a lot of traveling - that's just a fact. I'll be leaving home for big trips more than once in the next 12 months. But I think that it's more appropriate to think of these adventures not as new departures, but new arrivals. New home-comings. I remember thinking that Prague felt like home, that first time in 2010 when I found Charles Bridge and fell in love with a city. If I think of all these trips as just another occasion of leaving home, of course I'll feel weird and sad. I think, though, that traveling should never be about leaving. There's a line in "Lies" by the Avett Brothers that goes something like, "So if you run make sure you run to something, and not away from." A trip focused on leaving something behind is bound to be frustrating, I think, because we can never really leave who we are or where we come from. So in this upcoming year and in all of these upcoming adventures, I am determined to change my thinking. I will consider traveling only as a way of finding new places to come home to.

Happy New Year.

Thank you, Pandora.

"I am called Hope! I was packed into the box to make amends to the human race for that swarm of ugly Troubles."
"And will you stay with us forever?" asked Epimetheus.
"As long as you need me," said Hope. "There may come times and seasons when you think that I have utterly vanished. But again and again, when you least dream of it, you shall see the glimmer of my wings on the ceiling of your cottage."