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."