Thursday, May 13, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Tuesday Morning
So I have been sick for awhile, but that is not the point of this blog. (Just so you know.) Anywho, I was off to yet another doctor, this time out in Colton. (I had finally just decided to go and see the people I had been going to since I was born.) But in order to get a same day appointment, I had to call EXACTLY at 8:00am, risk being put on hold for thirty minutes, and then findding out all of the available appointments for that day had been taken by the people who had somehow gotten miraculously connected before I did.
I set my alarm for 7:58, knowing I would be sleepy and probably need a minute before my eyes could focus on the numbers of my phone. Worst case scenario, I didn't get an appointment and I would just go back to sleep. 7:58, my cell phone buzzes me awake, and I groggily wave my hand around my night stand reaching for my phone to make it stop. I tap in the numbers and wait for it to ring. Now, I have done this before and if you don't call EXACTLY at 8, you get a voicemail and have to call back. But to my surprise, I was put through right away. The receptionist at the switchboard asked how she could connect me, I said, "Dr. Bourne's office in Cooley Ranch" she said "One moment please" and we were go for launch. Here again, I expected to be put on hold, but I spoke to person right away. Dr. Bourne didn't have an appointment until 2:45, but Miranda Lynch (sp?), his nurse practitioner, had one at 9:30, did I want to take it? It was 8:03 now, it would take me a little less than an hour to get there. If there was traffic (and there is ALWAYS traffic) I might be screwed. I took the appointment and jumped out of bed.
Nineteen minutes later, I walked out the door, no make-up, Trader Joes blueberry scone in hand. Crap, what day is it? Tuesday. Where did I park? I replayed getting home last night, and realized I was on the wrong side of the street; street sweeping takes place every Tuesday at 8am. Excellent, another parking ticket. Whatever. But as I veered right and approached my car, there was no little annoying white slip of paper waiting to greet me. Shocked at my luck (because I have very BAD luck with parking tickets), I got in my car as quickly as possible to drive away before the ticketing gremlins came. And as I drove off towards the 55 freeway, I passed the street sweeper just coming up the other side-- I had escaped in the nick of time.
Now to battle traffic. Little GPS on my iphone, what does my future hold? As I searched routs on my map to Colton, and navigated my lane of traffic on the 55 (I AM the driver your mother warned you about), I clicked the little "show traffic" bar and made a distinct subconscious association with "Show me the beast!" from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. I had clicked that button thousands of times since getting my iphone and never before thought this. I smiled and made a mental note to tell Whitney later. She is the only one who might even possibly appreciate that parallel.
As I analyzed my traffic options, I realized the 91 (the shortest distance-wise) was a sure failure. What about the 57? It was a little out of the way, but never as much traffic. I scanned the map on the my little screen, glancing up occasionally to make sure I didn't hit any cars, but I couldn't find the 57 icon on any of the freeways. I zoomed in and out of the map, knowing decision time was coming. I either had to go 5N and commit to the 57, or stay and go the rout of impending doom. Then finally I zoomed in again, and there it was, the path green the whole way. I lane surfed a few lanes to the right, and way one my way.
Fifty-four minutes later I was off the freeway and headed to the office. Crap, wrong turn. It was exactly 9:30, (I was AMAZED it was exactly 9:30), but I had come so far to be late now. Figure it out Mel, left on Mt. Vernon. I called and told the receptionist I would be about four minutes late. I found a spot right by the front sliding doors, parked and walked in. I told the lady my name and who I was there to see. The other receptionist looked up and smiled, recognition that she had been the one I spoke to when I called. It was 9:34. I had made it.
From the waiting room I tweeted, "Good morning! It is only 9:40, and I have already escaped the law and outrun the traffic demons!"
I sat amazed at how things had worked out. For all intents and purposes, it was a good morning.
I set my alarm for 7:58, knowing I would be sleepy and probably need a minute before my eyes could focus on the numbers of my phone. Worst case scenario, I didn't get an appointment and I would just go back to sleep. 7:58, my cell phone buzzes me awake, and I groggily wave my hand around my night stand reaching for my phone to make it stop. I tap in the numbers and wait for it to ring. Now, I have done this before and if you don't call EXACTLY at 8, you get a voicemail and have to call back. But to my surprise, I was put through right away. The receptionist at the switchboard asked how she could connect me, I said, "Dr. Bourne's office in Cooley Ranch" she said "One moment please" and we were go for launch. Here again, I expected to be put on hold, but I spoke to person right away. Dr. Bourne didn't have an appointment until 2:45, but Miranda Lynch (sp?), his nurse practitioner, had one at 9:30, did I want to take it? It was 8:03 now, it would take me a little less than an hour to get there. If there was traffic (and there is ALWAYS traffic) I might be screwed. I took the appointment and jumped out of bed.
Nineteen minutes later, I walked out the door, no make-up, Trader Joes blueberry scone in hand. Crap, what day is it? Tuesday. Where did I park? I replayed getting home last night, and realized I was on the wrong side of the street; street sweeping takes place every Tuesday at 8am. Excellent, another parking ticket. Whatever. But as I veered right and approached my car, there was no little annoying white slip of paper waiting to greet me. Shocked at my luck (because I have very BAD luck with parking tickets), I got in my car as quickly as possible to drive away before the ticketing gremlins came. And as I drove off towards the 55 freeway, I passed the street sweeper just coming up the other side-- I had escaped in the nick of time.
Now to battle traffic. Little GPS on my iphone, what does my future hold? As I searched routs on my map to Colton, and navigated my lane of traffic on the 55 (I AM the driver your mother warned you about), I clicked the little "show traffic" bar and made a distinct subconscious association with "Show me the beast!" from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. I had clicked that button thousands of times since getting my iphone and never before thought this. I smiled and made a mental note to tell Whitney later. She is the only one who might even possibly appreciate that parallel.
As I analyzed my traffic options, I realized the 91 (the shortest distance-wise) was a sure failure. What about the 57? It was a little out of the way, but never as much traffic. I scanned the map on the my little screen, glancing up occasionally to make sure I didn't hit any cars, but I couldn't find the 57 icon on any of the freeways. I zoomed in and out of the map, knowing decision time was coming. I either had to go 5N and commit to the 57, or stay and go the rout of impending doom. Then finally I zoomed in again, and there it was, the path green the whole way. I lane surfed a few lanes to the right, and way one my way.
Fifty-four minutes later I was off the freeway and headed to the office. Crap, wrong turn. It was exactly 9:30, (I was AMAZED it was exactly 9:30), but I had come so far to be late now. Figure it out Mel, left on Mt. Vernon. I called and told the receptionist I would be about four minutes late. I found a spot right by the front sliding doors, parked and walked in. I told the lady my name and who I was there to see. The other receptionist looked up and smiled, recognition that she had been the one I spoke to when I called. It was 9:34. I had made it.
From the waiting room I tweeted, "Good morning! It is only 9:40, and I have already escaped the law and outrun the traffic demons!"
I sat amazed at how things had worked out. For all intents and purposes, it was a good morning.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Emotional Writer's Block
I am sitting here trying to write my paper and I can't because I am too upset that no one in my life ever told me my thoughts about things mattered.
I learned today that my thoughts DO matter. And I was going to write a very happy blog post about how I was so happy after therapy today, but now I am upset. I have wasted SO MUCH TIME PLEADING WITH OTHER PEOPLE TO JUST LOVE ME when there was nothing wrong with me in the first place. There was never anything wrong with me.
If I had known that, I would have made so many different choices over the past four years. I would fucking be somebody else. I think she would have been happier. I am a weird mix of sad and angry right now. I don't know what my therapist would call that emotion.
I hate that all we can do is move on. We can't go back and fix what has already happened. I hate that.
In other news, I learned today that my thoughts about things matter.
Writing this piece is hard because it is making me think about who I was, and I don't want to think about that anymore. I don't want to mull over bad habits. I want to keep moving forward and doing new things. I want to leave the past behind me. And because I have to write this piece I cannot do that.
This is disgusting and I want to leave and not write anymore and not think about it. But I have to.
I learned today that my thoughts DO matter. And I was going to write a very happy blog post about how I was so happy after therapy today, but now I am upset. I have wasted SO MUCH TIME PLEADING WITH OTHER PEOPLE TO JUST LOVE ME when there was nothing wrong with me in the first place. There was never anything wrong with me.
If I had known that, I would have made so many different choices over the past four years. I would fucking be somebody else. I think she would have been happier. I am a weird mix of sad and angry right now. I don't know what my therapist would call that emotion.
I hate that all we can do is move on. We can't go back and fix what has already happened. I hate that.
In other news, I learned today that my thoughts about things matter.
Writing this piece is hard because it is making me think about who I was, and I don't want to think about that anymore. I don't want to mull over bad habits. I want to keep moving forward and doing new things. I want to leave the past behind me. And because I have to write this piece I cannot do that.
This is disgusting and I want to leave and not write anymore and not think about it. But I have to.
Br.oken
I have an unhealthy affinity for broken things.
Because I think that if I can fix it I am worth something and if I can't, I am not good enough.
NOT.TRUE.
I am beginning to hate the fact that I am programmed this way and am resenting all the time I have wasted.
I had a good revelation earlier today that I will write about later, but needed to get that thought out in the meantime.
Because I think that if I can fix it I am worth something and if I can't, I am not good enough.
NOT.TRUE.
I am beginning to hate the fact that I am programmed this way and am resenting all the time I have wasted.
I had a good revelation earlier today that I will write about later, but needed to get that thought out in the meantime.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
So please hear these simple truths
Be strong in the Lord and,
Never give up hope,
You're going to do great things,
I already know,
God's got His hand on you so,
Don't live life in fear,
Forgive and forget,
But don't forget why you're here,
Take your time and pray,
Thank God for each day,
His love will find a way,
These are the words I would say
Never give up hope,
You're going to do great things,
I already know,
God's got His hand on you so,
Don't live life in fear,
Forgive and forget,
But don't forget why you're here,
Take your time and pray,
Thank God for each day,
His love will find a way,
These are the words I would say
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Elizabeth
My therapist would be so proud of me.
Today, I am sad.
I am not angry (no more energy). I am not in denial (too much clarity). But what really matters
...is that I no longer think I can change it. No more formulas, patterns of behavior, clever combinations of words, periods of time, inflections, glances, hairstyles, witticisms. There is no longer an order I should be doing things in, a solution for me to figure out. All options have been exhausted, sucked dry, tried and reused, painted a different color, buffed and shined. But the horse is dead. I have sat next to a dead horse willing it to be alive for four years.
I wonder how Elizabeth Kubler Ross knew so much about loss. I wonder if she has a compelling or moving life story.
But I have finally...finally stopped bargaining. And I have moved on to the second D of DABDA. Depression. The D also stands for Dirty. Depression is a Dirty word.
This is the worst part of all of it. Because here you are absolutely helpless. In Denial you don't know any better; Anger you can get people on your side and yell a lot, and Bargaining you can try to FIX. And the wall between bargaining and depression is where I stop. I hit the wall, refuse to continue, and most times revert back to anger. Anger feels like you are accomplishing something, even though you are not.
When you are angry you are hurting yourself. And guess what?
The situation has not changed.
So today I am sad.
My therapist would be proud.
Today, I am sad.
I am not angry (no more energy). I am not in denial (too much clarity). But what really matters
...is that I no longer think I can change it. No more formulas, patterns of behavior, clever combinations of words, periods of time, inflections, glances, hairstyles, witticisms. There is no longer an order I should be doing things in, a solution for me to figure out. All options have been exhausted, sucked dry, tried and reused, painted a different color, buffed and shined. But the horse is dead. I have sat next to a dead horse willing it to be alive for four years.
I wonder how Elizabeth Kubler Ross knew so much about loss. I wonder if she has a compelling or moving life story.
But I have finally...finally stopped bargaining. And I have moved on to the second D of DABDA. Depression. The D also stands for Dirty. Depression is a Dirty word.
This is the worst part of all of it. Because here you are absolutely helpless. In Denial you don't know any better; Anger you can get people on your side and yell a lot, and Bargaining you can try to FIX. And the wall between bargaining and depression is where I stop. I hit the wall, refuse to continue, and most times revert back to anger. Anger feels like you are accomplishing something, even though you are not.
When you are angry you are hurting yourself. And guess what?
The situation has not changed.
So today I am sad.
My therapist would be proud.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The Little Men with Bad Breath
So it has occurred to me in my Aprodine state of mind that I am once again off track. The ECF mentioned here was the trigger. And only now am I realizing the tailspin it sent me into.
The past few days, the entry way to my house has smelled like bad breath. How does a part of a house with no furniture or fabric have such a distinct smell, especially one so bad? Are there little men with halitosis standing there breathing when no one is home and moment I come to the door they scamper away?
The clicking (or ticking I suppose is the correct term) of this clock behind me is highly irritating. Or it would be if this new antihistamine I was on did not make me so placid. I never understood the appeal of clocks that tick. Is it one of those sounds people find comforting because it reminds them of their childhood? It does not remind me of my childhood. My grandma actually gave each of her three kids, my dad and his two older sisters, identical gold analogue clocks, and my dad either hid his or threw it away because he hated the ticking so much. He also hated his mother, but thats another story. Maybe my dislike of the noise is genetic. My mom hates ticking and dripping noises too. It's a good thing I am on aprodine.
So I have never read Catcher in the Rye. I know, I know, it's like cardinal sin numero uno for any literary fanatic/writer. But that's not even why I have decided to read it. I am reading it (and I am on chapter 7) because the ending has already been ruined for me. Donald Miller ruined it for me. I actually began reading his book "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years" so he could tell me how to live a more exciting life, and there in the first chapter he tells me Holden Caulfield is sitting there telling his story to some therapist in a mental institution. (Sorry if you have never read the book and I just ruined it for you. But now you know how I feel. And really, I would blame Don.) So after having the ending ruined for me, I figured that this is a book everyone and their mother has read, and that there are probably tons of literary allusions made to this book that I have been completely missing over the course of my literate life. And I decided I should fix that. So now I am on chapter 7. And its weird because now that I am reading it, I find myself thinking in the stilted, repetitive way he talks. It is very strange. I don't read as much as I should, but when I do I think I become very involved. It happens when I watch movies too. I am overly empathetic and too easily influenced by my surroundings.
Which brings me back to the beginning of this, when I first sat down to start writing. I have no personal goals. The minute I began to, the ECF occurred and only now am I beginning to resurface. (The ECF served as a catalyst for much deeper problems as well, as Small Things almost certainly always lead to Bigger Things.) I think I need to reconnect with myself. That sounds so meditative and zen. And is actually one of those gross sentences that makes you gag when other people say it, except for the fact that I mean it.
I hate being alone. I hate it hate it hate it. But when I am not alone, even my inner psyche is distracted. I just get off track. And then I find myself doing meaningless things and hating myself for it. The downward spiral is all very interesting really.
As always there is more to say, but I am sure the tone of the rest of my blogs from now on will be all about how I want to reinvent myself, so that should be fun.
Actually...yes, it will be fun. I can do this.
The past few days, the entry way to my house has smelled like bad breath. How does a part of a house with no furniture or fabric have such a distinct smell, especially one so bad? Are there little men with halitosis standing there breathing when no one is home and moment I come to the door they scamper away?
The clicking (or ticking I suppose is the correct term) of this clock behind me is highly irritating. Or it would be if this new antihistamine I was on did not make me so placid. I never understood the appeal of clocks that tick. Is it one of those sounds people find comforting because it reminds them of their childhood? It does not remind me of my childhood. My grandma actually gave each of her three kids, my dad and his two older sisters, identical gold analogue clocks, and my dad either hid his or threw it away because he hated the ticking so much. He also hated his mother, but thats another story. Maybe my dislike of the noise is genetic. My mom hates ticking and dripping noises too. It's a good thing I am on aprodine.
So I have never read Catcher in the Rye. I know, I know, it's like cardinal sin numero uno for any literary fanatic/writer. But that's not even why I have decided to read it. I am reading it (and I am on chapter 7) because the ending has already been ruined for me. Donald Miller ruined it for me. I actually began reading his book "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years" so he could tell me how to live a more exciting life, and there in the first chapter he tells me Holden Caulfield is sitting there telling his story to some therapist in a mental institution. (Sorry if you have never read the book and I just ruined it for you. But now you know how I feel. And really, I would blame Don.) So after having the ending ruined for me, I figured that this is a book everyone and their mother has read, and that there are probably tons of literary allusions made to this book that I have been completely missing over the course of my literate life. And I decided I should fix that. So now I am on chapter 7. And its weird because now that I am reading it, I find myself thinking in the stilted, repetitive way he talks. It is very strange. I don't read as much as I should, but when I do I think I become very involved. It happens when I watch movies too. I am overly empathetic and too easily influenced by my surroundings.
Which brings me back to the beginning of this, when I first sat down to start writing. I have no personal goals. The minute I began to, the ECF occurred and only now am I beginning to resurface. (The ECF served as a catalyst for much deeper problems as well, as Small Things almost certainly always lead to Bigger Things.) I think I need to reconnect with myself. That sounds so meditative and zen. And is actually one of those gross sentences that makes you gag when other people say it, except for the fact that I mean it.
I hate being alone. I hate it hate it hate it. But when I am not alone, even my inner psyche is distracted. I just get off track. And then I find myself doing meaningless things and hating myself for it. The downward spiral is all very interesting really.
As always there is more to say, but I am sure the tone of the rest of my blogs from now on will be all about how I want to reinvent myself, so that should be fun.
Actually...yes, it will be fun. I can do this.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
I think my new antihistamine has weird side effects!
Sometimes I wonder why I care so much! Nothing is even that big of a deal! Time for bed!
Monday, May 3, 2010
The Shoe
Shoe crisis averted. That stressed me out. I love when I need space, my roommate gives me the wrong shoe so I can leave it in your car, forcing me to talk to you MORE. Oh basket of shoes by front door that I do not even use, why must you cause me such strife?
I am learning I need to stop making my long distance life happen and instead only focus on what is directly within my reach. I grope and grasp for the past because it is familiar, but in the meantime I do not invest in the present. My need for stability and comfort that I believe to be found in some past life I never led and in making that past a reality is what is keeping me from seeing the blessings I have right here, right now. (Run on sentence!!)
So past, leave me be! When you decide to be a part of my present, I will see if I want to invite you back. But that is YOUR choice. Come back if you like, but for now, I will look side to side and forwards. Backwards no more!
This post makes little sense.
I am learning I need to stop making my long distance life happen and instead only focus on what is directly within my reach. I grope and grasp for the past because it is familiar, but in the meantime I do not invest in the present. My need for stability and comfort that I believe to be found in some past life I never led and in making that past a reality is what is keeping me from seeing the blessings I have right here, right now. (Run on sentence!!)
So past, leave me be! When you decide to be a part of my present, I will see if I want to invite you back. But that is YOUR choice. Come back if you like, but for now, I will look side to side and forwards. Backwards no more!
This post makes little sense.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Boldness-- quote stolen from Leanna
"Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation) there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. I have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets: Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it."
~W.H. Murray
~W.H. Murray
Sunday, April 25, 2010
The 8th Day
So I am attempting to get better at the whole "If you don't have something nice to say to someone, don't say anything at all" thing...or at least I am trying to not say stuff that serves no ultimate purpose beyond my personal gratification of saying it. But then WHERE IS THE OUTLET???
And on the eighth day, God created blogging.
So without further adieu:
Dear (name withheld),
You are ridiculous. It has been super interesting for me to watch you grow up and become a man. Because though I thought you were a man when I met you four years ago, you most certainly were not. You have grown and changed and matured, and I am in my heart of hearts, SO proud of you. I know it hasn't been easy. In fact, I know these past four years have been some of the hardest, but sometimes that's what it takes to get a person to grow up.
I think the thing that gets me is that you have not become the person I always thought you were. There is still a tiny (very tiny) part of me that thinks it knows you better than you do (and oh man, reading that would probably piss you off greatly).
It's just funny to me that someone so goofy and fun can also come across as so over serious. Maybe I just can't synthesize the two sides. I know you care deeply about things, and things that really matter. But the way you express this through over-dramatic facebook notes that I "need to pass on until everyone I know has read about said travesty that was caused by texting while driving" just comes across as something my mom would forward to all of her friends. Maybe I don't like it because it doesn't seem like you. Then again, maybe I don't know you anymore. Maybe we just care about different things. There is also a good chance that I am getting to witness first hand what it looks like for you to express the things you care about. Maybe these are the first tottering steps of an activist and the wrinkles will iron themselves out. Or perhaps not. Maybe this is just who you are.
And who I thought you were is not who you are. Or is it? I think I am still coming to terms with the death of a dream. And I think that's okay. Best of luck, and many blessings. You know I'll always love you (in the simple and pure friendship sense, of course :).
Always,
Melanie
And on the eighth day, God created blogging.
So without further adieu:
Dear (name withheld),
You are ridiculous. It has been super interesting for me to watch you grow up and become a man. Because though I thought you were a man when I met you four years ago, you most certainly were not. You have grown and changed and matured, and I am in my heart of hearts, SO proud of you. I know it hasn't been easy. In fact, I know these past four years have been some of the hardest, but sometimes that's what it takes to get a person to grow up.
I think the thing that gets me is that you have not become the person I always thought you were. There is still a tiny (very tiny) part of me that thinks it knows you better than you do (and oh man, reading that would probably piss you off greatly).
It's just funny to me that someone so goofy and fun can also come across as so over serious. Maybe I just can't synthesize the two sides. I know you care deeply about things, and things that really matter. But the way you express this through over-dramatic facebook notes that I "need to pass on until everyone I know has read about said travesty that was caused by texting while driving" just comes across as something my mom would forward to all of her friends. Maybe I don't like it because it doesn't seem like you. Then again, maybe I don't know you anymore. Maybe we just care about different things. There is also a good chance that I am getting to witness first hand what it looks like for you to express the things you care about. Maybe these are the first tottering steps of an activist and the wrinkles will iron themselves out. Or perhaps not. Maybe this is just who you are.
And who I thought you were is not who you are. Or is it? I think I am still coming to terms with the death of a dream. And I think that's okay. Best of luck, and many blessings. You know I'll always love you (in the simple and pure friendship sense, of course :).
Always,
Melanie
Friday, April 23, 2010
The Beliefs of Leon
Talking to my best guy friend who totally doesn't believe in God, he says:
Ya, I tried to see people's auras for like two days, but I couldn't...they were all sort of yellow, but I think that was just because of the light...then I realized I just didn't believe in them. (completely serious)
Other wonderful things he has said: (he is a writer)
So I started writing sonnets the other day...it just felt right. (He has since stopped writing sonnets because it no longer feels right.)
I have renounced math, even basic arithmetic...I no longer believe in it. (not completely serious, but HILARIOUS)
Oh Leon, how I love you.
Ya, I tried to see people's auras for like two days, but I couldn't...they were all sort of yellow, but I think that was just because of the light...then I realized I just didn't believe in them. (completely serious)
Other wonderful things he has said: (he is a writer)
So I started writing sonnets the other day...it just felt right. (He has since stopped writing sonnets because it no longer feels right.)
I have renounced math, even basic arithmetic...I no longer believe in it. (not completely serious, but HILARIOUS)
Oh Leon, how I love you.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Ignore What You Know. Ha!
Here is what I learned today:
You have to play their game. Or, you have to let them play their own game I guess.
I am a fairly intuitive person. I can tell when a guy likes me. And because I am a "why waste time" kind of girl, if I see it and I like him too, I call him on it, or somehow make him tell me he likes me. I get frustrated with the time lag. So I say stuff, stuff gets messed up (guy gets scared and runs away, or I am in control of the relationship, or we have an epic Clark failure, from here on referred to as an ECF). If I don't like the guy, I ignore the signals in the hopes that they will go away. When in reality that is EXACTLY THE RIGHT THING TO DO because if the guy is going to make a move, he needs time, and will make said move when he is ready. So this is why it seems like only the guys I don't like are the ones with enough courage to ask me out, and why I am left complaining about how no guys I like, like me. Some guys I like do like me, I just rob them of the opportunity to tell me.
It makes so much sense it kills me. Basically, the lesson is: shut your mouth and let things take care of themselves. Even if you know crap, SHUT UP.
Such an eeeeeeaaaaasyyyy lesson.
Wait...is this the meaning of the phrase "Let the man think it was his idea" or whatever? Ugh. There is no justice.
You have to play their game. Or, you have to let them play their own game I guess.
I am a fairly intuitive person. I can tell when a guy likes me. And because I am a "why waste time" kind of girl, if I see it and I like him too, I call him on it, or somehow make him tell me he likes me. I get frustrated with the time lag. So I say stuff, stuff gets messed up (guy gets scared and runs away, or I am in control of the relationship, or we have an epic Clark failure, from here on referred to as an ECF). If I don't like the guy, I ignore the signals in the hopes that they will go away. When in reality that is EXACTLY THE RIGHT THING TO DO because if the guy is going to make a move, he needs time, and will make said move when he is ready. So this is why it seems like only the guys I don't like are the ones with enough courage to ask me out, and why I am left complaining about how no guys I like, like me. Some guys I like do like me, I just rob them of the opportunity to tell me.
It makes so much sense it kills me. Basically, the lesson is: shut your mouth and let things take care of themselves. Even if you know crap, SHUT UP.
Such an eeeeeeaaaaasyyyy lesson.
Wait...is this the meaning of the phrase "Let the man think it was his idea" or whatever? Ugh. There is no justice.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Prayer for the Future aka My Cats, Spin and Stir
I look around me and see everything that is, everything physically present, the people I live with and what they have, and I know this is not the place for me. The things I have said no to, the things that could have been mine, had I just said yes...but I said no. I said no for reasons that made sense at the time, but loneliness has a mind of its own. And sometimes the loneliness of the now is more powerful than the knowledge of the discontent that was. It's hard to not get lost in "knowing you made the right decision".
So this is my prayer for the future:
I pray that if and when I have two cats, they will not be named Spin and Stir. I ask for a place to be prepared for me in Portland. I pray that my heart will be only on what is set before me.
Hebrews 12:1-2
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
Proverbs 25-27
Let your eyes look straight ahead,
fix your gaze directly before you.
Make level paths for your feet
and take only ways that are firm.
Do not swerve to the right or the left;
keep your foot from evil.
So this is my prayer for the future:
I pray that if and when I have two cats, they will not be named Spin and Stir. I ask for a place to be prepared for me in Portland. I pray that my heart will be only on what is set before me.
Hebrews 12:1-2
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
Proverbs 25-27
Let your eyes look straight ahead,
fix your gaze directly before you.
Make level paths for your feet
and take only ways that are firm.
Do not swerve to the right or the left;
keep your foot from evil.
Monday, April 19, 2010
My "just before I wake up" dreams
Yesterday morning I was using the GPS on my phone. It was dim, and pretty stormy, and I was walking around, holding it out, looking at the map and looking ahead of me, like it was some sort of metal detector. It led me to some sort of island, not tropical, but it was a splintery wooden floor surrounded by crashing waves. Once I got there it was very apparent the waves had cut me off from going back. I wasn't panicked, but I do recall taking note of that. My GPS was technically taking me to Portland. On the splintery wooden floor were boxes, half packed and stacked on top of each other, like a room in the midst of getting ready to go. My friend Leon was there. All I remember was sitting on a couch next to him and firmly putting my hand on his knee, in a way that let him know I was there for him. I miss him a a lot.
This morning I was at my cousin's house. Or, well, it was a big house where both of my cousins happened to be. I needed to do some sort of an interview or survey about what people ate, and I wanted to talk to my cousin Karen. I called, I think from downstairs, and my cousin Adrienne picked up. She went to check on Karen and after doing so, told me that she was asleep. I saw all of that happen in my dream, even though I was technically on the phone downstairs. Adrienne insisted on helping me with the survey, rather adamantly actually, and I was reluctant. She eats really weird things and for some reason I didn't was to write down all of the natural and organic herbal things that are in her diet. But I gave in, and climbed the stairs to the very top floor (she lives on the third story of her real house when we are all there for Thanksgiving, so this makes sense to me). But the third floor was a giant brightly lit hallway with doors on either side and looked sort of like a mall. I think there was a large plant in the center. I remember I had a rolly suitcase and a large bag of sliced baguette bread about the same size as my suitcase with me. I asked someone which room my cousin was in, and a man who seemed like the landlord pointed me in the right direction. After that all I remember is playing with her son Josh, who was living inside of a large plastic package, the kind that trail mix from Target comes in, but bigger, and there was Asian salad mix in the bag along with him. All of this was normal, Josh was happy. And the overall feeling of the dream was that I relaxed. I was among family.
This morning I was at my cousin's house. Or, well, it was a big house where both of my cousins happened to be. I needed to do some sort of an interview or survey about what people ate, and I wanted to talk to my cousin Karen. I called, I think from downstairs, and my cousin Adrienne picked up. She went to check on Karen and after doing so, told me that she was asleep. I saw all of that happen in my dream, even though I was technically on the phone downstairs. Adrienne insisted on helping me with the survey, rather adamantly actually, and I was reluctant. She eats really weird things and for some reason I didn't was to write down all of the natural and organic herbal things that are in her diet. But I gave in, and climbed the stairs to the very top floor (she lives on the third story of her real house when we are all there for Thanksgiving, so this makes sense to me). But the third floor was a giant brightly lit hallway with doors on either side and looked sort of like a mall. I think there was a large plant in the center. I remember I had a rolly suitcase and a large bag of sliced baguette bread about the same size as my suitcase with me. I asked someone which room my cousin was in, and a man who seemed like the landlord pointed me in the right direction. After that all I remember is playing with her son Josh, who was living inside of a large plastic package, the kind that trail mix from Target comes in, but bigger, and there was Asian salad mix in the bag along with him. All of this was normal, Josh was happy. And the overall feeling of the dream was that I relaxed. I was among family.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Mixed Bag Mel
I am Free and no longer need to Think About This.
The end. No more.
Time to freaking write.
The end. No more.
Time to freaking write.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Detox
I find it VERY unlikely that Mary Kay is a success in Portland, and for this I am thankful.
I need to detox from all this girly-ness.
*inhale...exhale*
I need to detox from all this girly-ness.
*inhale...exhale*
Friday, April 16, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Planks and forgiveness and grace
I think I have been learning a lot about planks and forgiveness these days. And making mistakes and grace.
I axed three guys this week. That is a horribly bloody metaphor. But God has wanted me to do this for a veeeeerryyy long time. And I have been ignoring Him. And I have been wondering why I am unhappy. And I didn't actually kill them. (ha) I hate hate hate being lonely. But I would absolutely destroy a relationship...there is too much I have not come to terms with yet.
And to you who I have hurt in my learning process, I am sorry. I know I was wrong and should have let you know sooner, but...well, you know my justification. I am sorry. I wish you would call so I can apologize. I know it has to be in your time. God's time. This is where the grace comes in. Thank you for hugging me before you left on Sunday...I know you are not truly mad, just upset. And rightly so. I think my life would be much different if I had seen people hug after fighting when I was a child.
I pray for a man that does this. I hear they exist. And I have faith that there is one out there for me too.
And thank you dear friends who have not disowned me...I can be kind of a lot to handle. Sometimes I feel like a human explosion. But your patience with me reflects the non-judgmental love of Christ and I need that so much. You know who you are, and I am thankful :) It brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "I get by with a little help from my friends."
I saw this quote today: “Faith never knows where it is being led, but it knows and loves the One who is leading.” – Oswald Chambers
It's a good one.
I axed three guys this week. That is a horribly bloody metaphor. But God has wanted me to do this for a veeeeerryyy long time. And I have been ignoring Him. And I have been wondering why I am unhappy. And I didn't actually kill them. (ha) I hate hate hate being lonely. But I would absolutely destroy a relationship...there is too much I have not come to terms with yet.
And to you who I have hurt in my learning process, I am sorry. I know I was wrong and should have let you know sooner, but...well, you know my justification. I am sorry. I wish you would call so I can apologize. I know it has to be in your time. God's time. This is where the grace comes in. Thank you for hugging me before you left on Sunday...I know you are not truly mad, just upset. And rightly so. I think my life would be much different if I had seen people hug after fighting when I was a child.
I pray for a man that does this. I hear they exist. And I have faith that there is one out there for me too.
And thank you dear friends who have not disowned me...I can be kind of a lot to handle. Sometimes I feel like a human explosion. But your patience with me reflects the non-judgmental love of Christ and I need that so much. You know who you are, and I am thankful :) It brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "I get by with a little help from my friends."
I saw this quote today: “Faith never knows where it is being led, but it knows and loves the One who is leading.” – Oswald Chambers
It's a good one.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Rough drafts and love
Many many times I don't understand the situations I get myself into or why I regret things so much. And then I question things. Never content. And then I wonder why I can't just let go and be like my roommate who is excessively happy. Am I missing something? I operate under the notion that I am missing something, that I just haven't figured "it" out yet.
My therapist told me today that there are no final drafts in life.
Maybe there is nothing I am missing. Maybe I need to stop trying to figure "it" out and just keep moving.
Jesus, I pray I would relax.
How He Loves
--David Crowder
He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realise just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.
And oh, how He loves us so,
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us all
Yeah, He loves us,
Oh! how He loves us,
Oh! how He loves us,
Oh! how He loves.
We are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking.
And Heaven meets earth like an unforseen kiss,
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest,
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets,
When I think about, the way…
My therapist told me today that there are no final drafts in life.
Maybe there is nothing I am missing. Maybe I need to stop trying to figure "it" out and just keep moving.
Jesus, I pray I would relax.
How He Loves
--David Crowder
He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realise just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.
And oh, how He loves us so,
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us all
Yeah, He loves us,
Oh! how He loves us,
Oh! how He loves us,
Oh! how He loves.
We are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking.
And Heaven meets earth like an unforseen kiss,
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest,
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets,
When I think about, the way…
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Hard Questions We Do Not Laugh About
I spent a about an hour today reading some of the posts on an old friend' blog. She is a very unique person...at first glance, a very beautiful girl (honestly one of the prettiest people I know), very happy, loving, gentle, not over bearing, nor timid...her life story hasn't been easy, and she came to know Christ about two years ago. As far as I am concerned, she fits into the category of "Those Jesus Smiles Upon Regularly". I do not put myself in this category. And in reading through my friend's blog, I began to think about why...
She and I believe in the same Jesus, we should not be so different from each other. The simple answer is that she has seen God display Himself in her life in tangible ways, so she loves Him, believes He loves her, and they are happy in smiley face and exclamation mark land. But countless big things I have prayed for have not come to pass...big things, monumental life altering things, and I get a big fat NO. My friend and I are expected to love Jesus the same, to the same degree, to believe there is no inequality between us.
But I am being very short sighted in the above paragraph. My friend's life is not complete bliss. But the difference between her and me, is that she has found herself capable of letting go of the past that she does not control and being thankful the ways God is providing for her NOW. I could do that too. In not way is my life complete and utter crap. I could list things I am thankful for this very moment. Hell, I even have good days.
But I am continually resentful for the one thing I asked for that I never got. And I wont even write what it is here, because every time I say it I feel like a broken record. Just another girl with a sob story. I get that other people's lives are worse. OF COURSE. But why did God say no, and why did God say no to me? Ugh, I am so narcissistic.
You know, I don't need to know the answer to that. I can answer that. And logically I am "okay" with the answer. But here is what I want to know.
Brigitte, how did you let go? How do you not hold all of the stuff your mom did against her? Against God? How do you know, without a doubt, that at the end of the day, somehow, someway, there will be enough time? Enough money? Enough experience on your resume? We praise God because He is good, because He answers. He has answered me, and I am thankful for somethings. And I am utterly broken because of the things He will not change. How do you see Him so clearly when I don't? Is the problem with me?
She and I believe in the same Jesus, we should not be so different from each other. The simple answer is that she has seen God display Himself in her life in tangible ways, so she loves Him, believes He loves her, and they are happy in smiley face and exclamation mark land. But countless big things I have prayed for have not come to pass...big things, monumental life altering things, and I get a big fat NO. My friend and I are expected to love Jesus the same, to the same degree, to believe there is no inequality between us.
But I am being very short sighted in the above paragraph. My friend's life is not complete bliss. But the difference between her and me, is that she has found herself capable of letting go of the past that she does not control and being thankful the ways God is providing for her NOW. I could do that too. In not way is my life complete and utter crap. I could list things I am thankful for this very moment. Hell, I even have good days.
But I am continually resentful for the one thing I asked for that I never got. And I wont even write what it is here, because every time I say it I feel like a broken record. Just another girl with a sob story. I get that other people's lives are worse. OF COURSE. But why did God say no, and why did God say no to me? Ugh, I am so narcissistic.
You know, I don't need to know the answer to that. I can answer that. And logically I am "okay" with the answer. But here is what I want to know.
Brigitte, how did you let go? How do you not hold all of the stuff your mom did against her? Against God? How do you know, without a doubt, that at the end of the day, somehow, someway, there will be enough time? Enough money? Enough experience on your resume? We praise God because He is good, because He answers. He has answered me, and I am thankful for somethings. And I am utterly broken because of the things He will not change. How do you see Him so clearly when I don't? Is the problem with me?
Monday, April 5, 2010
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Feeling Distant and Choosing to Listen.
I have been thinking a lot about listening to God and about how He speaks to us. Recently I have honestly been feeling like I can't hear His voice. So often I get caught up in thinking, "Well, if God WANTS me to do something, He will make it clear."
...but what if He doesn't make anything clear?
Better question: what does God Making Things Clear even look like?
And that is what I have been thinking about. For SO long I have lived my life sitting back, more or less just expecting good things to happen to me because "God Loves Me". And I am not saying He doesn't. But I have not played an active role in my own life. And Donald Miller does an excellent job of explaining my reasoning for not being an active participant in his book "To Own A Dragon", (which is about boys growing up without fathers, but as a DM disciple, I read it and found much of it applicable). He basically explains the feeling of not feeling invited to participate in life. Life wasn't for us, it was for other people to succeed in. We are not wanted by life, so we just remove ourselves from the picture. This leads to overflowing inboxes of unresponded to emails and sitting around. doing. nothing. Probably living in the fear that if we tried something we would fail, so why try.
But this year I realized that just sitting back doing nothing wasn't getting me where I wanted to go (I know, it's basically rocket science). So I swung the complete opposite direction and took matters into my own hands. And in many many ways, it has been very beneficial. I have begun to learn my place in this world and exactly what I have to offer and contribute. I am learning how to be balanced. I do chores now, my reading for school, AND spend time with friends. I have gained self esteem as a writer. I am still afraid of failing, but at least I have tools now instead of feeling helpless.
But as I have done this, I have stopped discussing things with God. I have been full speed ahead, just bursting through walls and slaying giants on my own. But as the year comes to a close, I am faced with many options, some that I like and others that I don't, with new boy situations, leadership opportunities, family issues and situations in friend's lives, I am at an overall general loss of what to do.
I feel distant from God. I don't know how to hear Him these days. I am at my wits end depressed by any means. It has just been so long since I simply sat, and listened. So I think that is what I am going to go and do right now.
Psalm 46:10 "Be still and know that I am God."
...but what if He doesn't make anything clear?
Better question: what does God Making Things Clear even look like?
And that is what I have been thinking about. For SO long I have lived my life sitting back, more or less just expecting good things to happen to me because "God Loves Me". And I am not saying He doesn't. But I have not played an active role in my own life. And Donald Miller does an excellent job of explaining my reasoning for not being an active participant in his book "To Own A Dragon", (which is about boys growing up without fathers, but as a DM disciple, I read it and found much of it applicable). He basically explains the feeling of not feeling invited to participate in life. Life wasn't for us, it was for other people to succeed in. We are not wanted by life, so we just remove ourselves from the picture. This leads to overflowing inboxes of unresponded to emails and sitting around. doing. nothing. Probably living in the fear that if we tried something we would fail, so why try.
But this year I realized that just sitting back doing nothing wasn't getting me where I wanted to go (I know, it's basically rocket science). So I swung the complete opposite direction and took matters into my own hands. And in many many ways, it has been very beneficial. I have begun to learn my place in this world and exactly what I have to offer and contribute. I am learning how to be balanced. I do chores now, my reading for school, AND spend time with friends. I have gained self esteem as a writer. I am still afraid of failing, but at least I have tools now instead of feeling helpless.
But as I have done this, I have stopped discussing things with God. I have been full speed ahead, just bursting through walls and slaying giants on my own. But as the year comes to a close, I am faced with many options, some that I like and others that I don't, with new boy situations, leadership opportunities, family issues and situations in friend's lives, I am at an overall general loss of what to do.
I feel distant from God. I don't know how to hear Him these days. I am at my wits end depressed by any means. It has just been so long since I simply sat, and listened. So I think that is what I am going to go and do right now.
Psalm 46:10 "Be still and know that I am God."
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Passion::Wise
I feel things rather intensely and I tend to make snap judgments based on very little information. It can come off as abrasive, but even if I don't have all the information, I can tend to be right about a lot of things (in a formulaic sort of way). I like people. I observe them and I feel like I have a good barometer for people's tendencies. Of course there is always more to a situation than meets the eye...and I am just now learning to sit in the uncertainty instead of going with my snap judgment...even though in the end my snap judgment might be true. I have to force myself to sit in the process to see what else might be there. I skip a lot of lessons in life by always wanting a bottom line.
But as I force myself to sit, I feel like I am deadening a vital part of me. Making snap decisions and moving quickly is what makes me feel alive. I continually want to move on. I have begun to see the benefit of sitting in one place a little longer than I might like, but it is this deadening inside that I do not like. Because sitting in one place is unnatural for me at the moment, I am continually making a cerebral decision and forcing myself to stay. I am choosing to not listen to my instincts. I am putting to death a part of me...a dysfunctional part of me, but a part of me no less. And I feel this deadening of intensity that so often rules my life is deadening the good aspects of my intensity as well. And I don't want that. I am unsure how to be balanced in this. I want to be passionate, but I want to be wise as well. Hmmm, I feel like I have never before seen those two words used in such close proximity to one another. But that is what I want.
How do I do that?
But as I force myself to sit, I feel like I am deadening a vital part of me. Making snap decisions and moving quickly is what makes me feel alive. I continually want to move on. I have begun to see the benefit of sitting in one place a little longer than I might like, but it is this deadening inside that I do not like. Because sitting in one place is unnatural for me at the moment, I am continually making a cerebral decision and forcing myself to stay. I am choosing to not listen to my instincts. I am putting to death a part of me...a dysfunctional part of me, but a part of me no less. And I feel this deadening of intensity that so often rules my life is deadening the good aspects of my intensity as well. And I don't want that. I am unsure how to be balanced in this. I want to be passionate, but I want to be wise as well. Hmmm, I feel like I have never before seen those two words used in such close proximity to one another. But that is what I want.
How do I do that?
Sunday, March 14, 2010
An Attempt to Be Non-Dramatic
I think the reason I dislike all of this so much is that it makes me question myself. I never know if what I am doing is too much, or not enough, appropriate or inappropriate. And talking about everything ruins the fun, the mystery. And than I sit here worried I have done something wrong while all of my friends tell me to stop freaking out.
*sigh*
It's enough to push it away and say no thanks, I am better off alone.
*sigh*
It's enough to push it away and say no thanks, I am better off alone.
Friday, March 12, 2010
it is 7:34 and you are at Chick-Fil-A. I think thats how you spell it at least. I never really understood how to spell the name of that place. I think I have only been there like...well, I could probably count all the times on one hand. But anywho, their food is over priced and you are there.
Whitney is singing in the bathroom right now..."dreams last for so long, even after you're gone"...I don't know this song. She was singing a song I knew earlier and I was peeling paint off my door. I sang along. She is supposedly getting ready for the gym, but she has not left yet...what is she doing? I don't understand. Haha, she just hit a bad note and make a funny noise.
Blah blah blah, Whitney told me to blog about this because "It will be funny one day". Well future me, are you laughing?
My nose is runny. Whit wants me to text her updates...I dont think that is going to happen.
You just called. I like that your friends want to hang out with me. K, gotta go!
Whitney is singing in the bathroom right now..."dreams last for so long, even after you're gone"...I don't know this song. She was singing a song I knew earlier and I was peeling paint off my door. I sang along. She is supposedly getting ready for the gym, but she has not left yet...what is she doing? I don't understand. Haha, she just hit a bad note and make a funny noise.
Blah blah blah, Whitney told me to blog about this because "It will be funny one day". Well future me, are you laughing?
My nose is runny. Whit wants me to text her updates...I dont think that is going to happen.
You just called. I like that your friends want to hang out with me. K, gotta go!
The Castle
The concept of being fully known is very strange to me. It is apparently man's deepest desire. Yet, I don't feel I struggle with this very much. I have a few friends who know me VERY well, and I am always trying to know people as well as I can in the time I am given. I feel I deal with this "deep desire all men share" quite well. Better than most even. In fact, knowing people is probably my favorite thing of all. I live for figuring out why a person is quiet in one situation and not in another, why they seem uncomfortable here but not there. What makes them laugh. People fascinate me. I maintain that one reason I don't watch much TV is because I have real life to observe! There are so many types of people and so many ways to do things and things to be passionate about, and I want to understand it all. It's all so much bigger than me. I don't want to miss anything.
But maybe in the midst of trying to know everyone, I AM missing something. Maybe there is a deeper level I have not gotten to. I am sure there is. In fact, I know there is. (Everyone TELLS me there is at least.) There is a good chance that soon I will be embarking on a journey of getting to know one person, very well. And that is new and very uncertain territory for me. Because just as I get to know him, he will be getting to know me. And that's terrifying. That's putting all your eggs in one basket...aren't we advised to NEVER do that? But it appears we must. This whole area of life is completely foreign to me. And in my humble opinion, I have done very well without it thus far. I am sure it helps that I don't really know what I am missing out on. There are all sorts of concerns, fears, apprehensions...and it goes both ways. I want this to work, what if I find out about something I don't like about him?? Ha, but this is the way it goes, so I'm told. And I can't just avoid it forever.
It is time for the castle that is me, that I have spent twenty two years painstakingly building, to get to know its neighbors...that apparently want to get to know me too.
Wish me luck.
But maybe in the midst of trying to know everyone, I AM missing something. Maybe there is a deeper level I have not gotten to. I am sure there is. In fact, I know there is. (Everyone TELLS me there is at least.) There is a good chance that soon I will be embarking on a journey of getting to know one person, very well. And that is new and very uncertain territory for me. Because just as I get to know him, he will be getting to know me. And that's terrifying. That's putting all your eggs in one basket...aren't we advised to NEVER do that? But it appears we must. This whole area of life is completely foreign to me. And in my humble opinion, I have done very well without it thus far. I am sure it helps that I don't really know what I am missing out on. There are all sorts of concerns, fears, apprehensions...and it goes both ways. I want this to work, what if I find out about something I don't like about him?? Ha, but this is the way it goes, so I'm told. And I can't just avoid it forever.
It is time for the castle that is me, that I have spent twenty two years painstakingly building, to get to know its neighbors...that apparently want to get to know me too.
Wish me luck.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Time
Time is a very interesting thing and I tend to be afraid of it. My therapist is trying to get me to slow down, but I perpetually feel like there is so much to be done, how can I possibly get to it all?
I am reading a story for school about a blind man who receives his sight at the age of 50. It talks about how blind people measure distance in the time it takes to get there. People with vision measure distance by the markers we pass along the way. Once this man gained his sight he would stumble a lot because he didn't know how to utilize his new found spacial perception. I thought this was so interesting. Especially considering this is what Jesus does in the bible- just gives a man his sight. Could this man judge distance afterward?
@Jonathonforeman - "Time is the longest distance between two places." -Tennessee Williams
I am reading a story for school about a blind man who receives his sight at the age of 50. It talks about how blind people measure distance in the time it takes to get there. People with vision measure distance by the markers we pass along the way. Once this man gained his sight he would stumble a lot because he didn't know how to utilize his new found spacial perception. I thought this was so interesting. Especially considering this is what Jesus does in the bible- just gives a man his sight. Could this man judge distance afterward?
@Jonathonforeman - "Time is the longest distance between two places." -Tennessee Williams
Thursday, February 25, 2010
You have to Live before you Die
My day began at 6:33am, after waiting those extra three minutes deciding whether or not I really wanted to get up.
I made the wrong choice.
After groggily traipsing out of bed, my feet slipped out from under me on my way down the stairs. I landed on my right thigh, hit some obscure nerve/tendon thing in my right elbow (you know, that uncomfortable tingly pain), and acquired some sort of rug burn-esque thing on my left pinky. I sat on the stairs and shuddered off the pain and shock of the experience, knowing the I would feel better in a few seconds. I was still too sleepy to label the rest of my day jaded, and simply compartmentalized the event as unfortunate and carried on. And I was happy, because I was going to be on time to work.
But it didn't matter because then I got fired. Well, not fired, "let go", as the result of a "business decision". And because I was only part time, I have no rights and do not get to find out why this happened. I was taken into the middle office no one uses, sat down with the new senior media services coordinator who hates me and an HR person. I was told that they were Ending My Internship Early and that today was My Last Day. I sat there and took the news like I take any bad news, stoic and accepting. "Ok" was all I said. And they stared at me. I don't know what they expected me to do, I wasn't about to start bawling. They were obviously the ones running the show, what did they want me to say? They said they would need my City badge back. I said, "Ok". More staring. And the senior media services coordinator had this anxious compassionate mom look on her face, which was a complete joke because I know that she is the reason this all happened in the first place. I dislike that woman very much.
Today my Literature of Affliction teacher said, "Life is a comedy to those who think and a tragedy to those who feel." I laughed and wrote it down. I guess this makes me the former.
I feel very fragile right now. This is a very obscure time in my life, and I am not headed where I thought I would be. My life does look like what I thought it would look like and my family is not what it should be. I am no longer making decisions based off of what I think other people think is right, but based off of what I want and the level of internal peace each of my options gives me. And sometimes I have no peace at all. But that's the way it is for me right now. Some people might call it reckless. But I call it living. And maybe that's naive.
"You know, Carolyn, you have to live before you die." -Bob, right before he died of highly metastatic liver cancer.
I have no concrete direction, and God has torn away what direction I thought I had. So why not experiment and listen to the internal voice? At least I will have known I wasn't too afraid to try.
Besides, someone has to keep loan officers employed.
I made the wrong choice.
After groggily traipsing out of bed, my feet slipped out from under me on my way down the stairs. I landed on my right thigh, hit some obscure nerve/tendon thing in my right elbow (you know, that uncomfortable tingly pain), and acquired some sort of rug burn-esque thing on my left pinky. I sat on the stairs and shuddered off the pain and shock of the experience, knowing the I would feel better in a few seconds. I was still too sleepy to label the rest of my day jaded, and simply compartmentalized the event as unfortunate and carried on. And I was happy, because I was going to be on time to work.
But it didn't matter because then I got fired. Well, not fired, "let go", as the result of a "business decision". And because I was only part time, I have no rights and do not get to find out why this happened. I was taken into the middle office no one uses, sat down with the new senior media services coordinator who hates me and an HR person. I was told that they were Ending My Internship Early and that today was My Last Day. I sat there and took the news like I take any bad news, stoic and accepting. "Ok" was all I said. And they stared at me. I don't know what they expected me to do, I wasn't about to start bawling. They were obviously the ones running the show, what did they want me to say? They said they would need my City badge back. I said, "Ok". More staring. And the senior media services coordinator had this anxious compassionate mom look on her face, which was a complete joke because I know that she is the reason this all happened in the first place. I dislike that woman very much.
Today my Literature of Affliction teacher said, "Life is a comedy to those who think and a tragedy to those who feel." I laughed and wrote it down. I guess this makes me the former.
I feel very fragile right now. This is a very obscure time in my life, and I am not headed where I thought I would be. My life does look like what I thought it would look like and my family is not what it should be. I am no longer making decisions based off of what I think other people think is right, but based off of what I want and the level of internal peace each of my options gives me. And sometimes I have no peace at all. But that's the way it is for me right now. Some people might call it reckless. But I call it living. And maybe that's naive.
"You know, Carolyn, you have to live before you die." -Bob, right before he died of highly metastatic liver cancer.
I have no concrete direction, and God has torn away what direction I thought I had. So why not experiment and listen to the internal voice? At least I will have known I wasn't too afraid to try.
Besides, someone has to keep loan officers employed.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Weirdest Day of my LIFE
I was just told that we are not supposed to base relationships off of emotions. Well then what are we supposed to base them off of, hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm?? What role do they play?
Emotions are meant to enrich us, not to define us.
UM.
Ok, it sounds GREAT, but what does that LOOK LIKE??
I do not want an arranged marriage.
The end. Thank you. Good night.
Emotions are meant to enrich us, not to define us.
UM.
Ok, it sounds GREAT, but what does that LOOK LIKE??
I do not want an arranged marriage.
The end. Thank you. Good night.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Miracle
And the miracle of Christ in me, is the mystery that sets me free. I'm nothing like I used to be.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Fruit
I have been most amazed by God through fruit these past few days. Weird, right?
A loooong time ago, (four years) I remember a guy I used to know saying that he felt like the peach he was eating had been stolen from the Garden of Eden, it was THAT good. He gave me one, and I'll admit, they were a good batch of peaches, but I thought his analogy a bit extreme.
But the other day I was in the kitchen at the Civic Center and I picked a slice of left over council food green apple out of the gallon sized zip lock bag on the counter and took a bite. And my first hyper-Christianized thought was, "This is AMAZING! God created the taste of this apple...man didn't create this." Something about the crisp, juicy, tartness completely threw my taste buds for a loop. And while man can now bio engineer whatever they want to, we didn't originally make it. God not only created that flavor, but our ability to taste it too! I know, if I were reading this post right now, I would want to hit me right now too, but this is seriously what I thought.
This past weekend I was up in Big Bear with my Life Group, and I had a few bites of pear that had been cut for breakfast. Same experience! The taste was AMAZING. The flavors of fruit are just so distinct and unique. And I love that I had nothing to do with it, and yet there it is. Brilliantly created. A gift.
So today as you eat the piece of fruit you hold in your hand, remember where it came from, and thank the God who gives us good things. Like green apples and pears :)
A loooong time ago, (four years) I remember a guy I used to know saying that he felt like the peach he was eating had been stolen from the Garden of Eden, it was THAT good. He gave me one, and I'll admit, they were a good batch of peaches, but I thought his analogy a bit extreme.
But the other day I was in the kitchen at the Civic Center and I picked a slice of left over council food green apple out of the gallon sized zip lock bag on the counter and took a bite. And my first hyper-Christianized thought was, "This is AMAZING! God created the taste of this apple...man didn't create this." Something about the crisp, juicy, tartness completely threw my taste buds for a loop. And while man can now bio engineer whatever they want to, we didn't originally make it. God not only created that flavor, but our ability to taste it too! I know, if I were reading this post right now, I would want to hit me right now too, but this is seriously what I thought.
This past weekend I was up in Big Bear with my Life Group, and I had a few bites of pear that had been cut for breakfast. Same experience! The taste was AMAZING. The flavors of fruit are just so distinct and unique. And I love that I had nothing to do with it, and yet there it is. Brilliantly created. A gift.
So today as you eat the piece of fruit you hold in your hand, remember where it came from, and thank the God who gives us good things. Like green apples and pears :)
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Finally Free
No chain is strong enough
No choice is wrong enough
No mountain high enough that He
can't climb
No shadow dark enough
No night is black enough
No road is lost enough that He can't find
And if the Son has set us free
Then we must be, free indeed
Let the chains fall away, starting today
Everything has changed
I'm finally free
No pain is deep enough
No heart could bleed enough
Nothing but Jesus' love can make a way
And if the Son has set us free
Then we must be, free indeed
Let the chains fall away, starting today
Everything has changed
I'm finally free
By Nichole Nordeman
No choice is wrong enough
No mountain high enough that He
can't climb
No shadow dark enough
No night is black enough
No road is lost enough that He can't find
And if the Son has set us free
Then we must be, free indeed
Let the chains fall away, starting today
Everything has changed
I'm finally free
No pain is deep enough
No heart could bleed enough
Nothing but Jesus' love can make a way
And if the Son has set us free
Then we must be, free indeed
Let the chains fall away, starting today
Everything has changed
I'm finally free
By Nichole Nordeman
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Truth perhaps?
When I say it out loud, it doesn't sound half as bad as it does in my head. What does that mean?
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Dear Donald Miller,
Today I realized that I want to be you. Not just a fan of your books (though I confess I have yet to read your most recent one), but actually BE you. I want to write about Christian spirituality and relationships between people and confusing situations people get themselves into and the ridiculous things they say. And I want to be picture-esque and deep and witty while doing it. Sort of like YOU.
But your bios are really less than helpful in providing me with a template. From reading your books I know you worked for a publishing company for awhile...took some bible classes...did a lot of hiking and road tripping...and met a lot of cool people. Out of curiosity Don, what exactly IS on your resume other than "I biked across America with Blood:Water Mission"? I am pretty sure you didn't go to college, so asking if you majored in "Being Awesome" isn't even a marginally legitimate question.
Living in Oregon. That is probably on your resume. And I think I will add that to my resume eventually too. But let's be honest, you gotta give a girl more to work with than that.
In the meantime, while I am figuring out how to be you, here is my list of things to do:
-get internship at Orange Coast (this kills many birds in my life, with one stone, though I don't necessarily advocate the killing of birds)
-make a list of places to intern in the IE
-make a list of journals, magazines, publishers, etc. that specialize in the type of writing I want to do.
-write about weird things that happen to me (aka, FIND VOICE)
This post is dedicated to Barry Siegle. If it weren't for him, I would not believe any of this is actually possible. Because of him, I know it is. Thanks Barry. And thank you God.
Love,
Melanie
But your bios are really less than helpful in providing me with a template. From reading your books I know you worked for a publishing company for awhile...took some bible classes...did a lot of hiking and road tripping...and met a lot of cool people. Out of curiosity Don, what exactly IS on your resume other than "I biked across America with Blood:Water Mission"? I am pretty sure you didn't go to college, so asking if you majored in "Being Awesome" isn't even a marginally legitimate question.
Living in Oregon. That is probably on your resume. And I think I will add that to my resume eventually too. But let's be honest, you gotta give a girl more to work with than that.
In the meantime, while I am figuring out how to be you, here is my list of things to do:
-get internship at Orange Coast (this kills many birds in my life, with one stone, though I don't necessarily advocate the killing of birds)
-make a list of places to intern in the IE
-make a list of journals, magazines, publishers, etc. that specialize in the type of writing I want to do.
-write about weird things that happen to me (aka, FIND VOICE)
This post is dedicated to Barry Siegle. If it weren't for him, I would not believe any of this is actually possible. Because of him, I know it is. Thanks Barry. And thank you God.
Love,
Melanie
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Choices, Distractions and Affirmations
Yesterday I was given the opportunity to spend my summer in East Africa and round out the trip with a week in the UK. My sister also wants to go to Ireland for a bit. MOST AMAZING SUMMER EVER.
But is it practical? Is it real? And what about that ill-fated M-word? You know....*whispers* money? And what about my desire for going back to India next December as a leader for the RH Trip? Do I really just keep asking people for money? Is there some sort of protocol? Are there books written on this that I am missing? And what about just graduating?
I still need to apply to graduate. I should probably do that tonight. And then there is my Life Group. And I am very easily caught up in petty dramas when I need to be praying about BIG DECISIONS (see above). And then there is legitimate drama as well...it is all a distraction.
Through all of this my character has been steadily affirmed though. I know, it sounds weird to say, but people have been happy with my ability to explain things. Apparently I am good at this, but I want to be a writer, not a public speaker. Getting my thoughts in writing when there are so many...ay yie yie.
And then there are these red boots. I feel as though they symbolize something. And maybe I am missing the point, because I am keeping them.
Praise God for sour cream. I need to go eat.
But is it practical? Is it real? And what about that ill-fated M-word? You know....*whispers* money? And what about my desire for going back to India next December as a leader for the RH Trip? Do I really just keep asking people for money? Is there some sort of protocol? Are there books written on this that I am missing? And what about just graduating?
I still need to apply to graduate. I should probably do that tonight. And then there is my Life Group. And I am very easily caught up in petty dramas when I need to be praying about BIG DECISIONS (see above). And then there is legitimate drama as well...it is all a distraction.
Through all of this my character has been steadily affirmed though. I know, it sounds weird to say, but people have been happy with my ability to explain things. Apparently I am good at this, but I want to be a writer, not a public speaker. Getting my thoughts in writing when there are so many...ay yie yie.
And then there are these red boots. I feel as though they symbolize something. And maybe I am missing the point, because I am keeping them.
Praise God for sour cream. I need to go eat.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Haiti
Twitter accounts from the area later would report that singing could be heard in the darkness.
Sing
I want to. Right NOW.
Watch this.
I used to be so cool.
(CLICK THIS --->) Gaston - Beauty and the Beast
In the line of ppl, I am the girl at the end on your left.
Watch this.
I used to be so cool.
(CLICK THIS --->) Gaston - Beauty and the Beast
In the line of ppl, I am the girl at the end on your left.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Unnoticed
Sometimes I wonder if people are as proud of people who don't make noticeable mistakes as they are of people who make big mistakes and repent. Where is the reward for the person with foresight and strict parents? Nothing against the people who make dramatic changes, praise God for them, but what about those who go unnoticed and whose morality is taken for granted?
What then.
What then.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Glimpse
It is not often I feel as though I experience the world as God intended it.
Last night, I did.
As Christians, I feel we spend a lot of time trying to convince ourselves that everything is okay. Or perhaps, this is just me. I sing worship songs at the top of my lungs, repeating to myself that "It is well with my soul." Confession: It is rarely "well" with my soul. Most of the time I just like the harmony and echo that is the girl part of the song. Strike me down, I said it.
I tend to dwell on negative things...I mean, look around, it's not like I have a lack of material for contemplation. But as I begin to recognize the source of my negativity, I have conversely begun to have eyes to see the goodness of God in the Right Here, Right Now. My new (inconsistent) ability to experience God in my present tense has a lot to do with letting Him surprise me. But as I learned in social dance class on Friday, I am HORRIBLE at letting someone else lead. I want to know what's going on, so I'm ready and won't fail (which is a whole other conversation).
A guy I follow on Twitter recently tweeted "Lower your expectations. It's the unexpected that you're expecting." (@rands) SO true. This all equals a big fat load of uncomfortable letting go. And honestly, just hoping and trusting God will show up.
Last night I went to a Tyrone Wells concert at the Hotel Cafe in LA with my friend Kim from my Life Group. Not only is it a sweet venue, but Tyrone was playing with Iain Archer, who was Irish and made me feel like I was in the movie Once, and Tony Luca who was apparently in the Mickey Mouse Club with Justin and Britney. The lead guitarist from Snow Patrol was there too and played a few songs with Iain. It was sweet.
I have seen Tyrone in concert before. It's always a good time. If you have never see him live, I highly suggest you go (ASAP, tickets keep going up in price! He is becoming sort of a big deal). Seeing Tyrone play this time was especially good for me at the stage of life I am in, where I am learning to have more faith that God is alive and present in other people.
Tyrone reminded me of very good things. To see a man passionate about what he does, passionate about the Lord, passionate about other people, and successful, is one of the most inspiring things to witness. And he's funny. (Go buy your tickets NOW, haha).
He ends every concert by singing a song he wrote called "When All is Said and Done", about how even though one day he might be rich and famous, when all is said and done it's our love for others and our relationship with God that matters. In truth, I have heard the song a few times. I have been to a handful of concerts, I have it on CD. It's a good song...but I've heard it...more than once. So towards the end, I saw it coming, and out of respect for a performer I knew I liked, I forced myself to pay attention. And for a few seconds it worked...until my mind inevitably wandered.
I was pulled back to reality when he stepped away from the mic, and kept singing. With the microphone no longer magnifying his voice, Tyrone trancended from performer to equal. I had never seen him do this before. In those moments, he was a man, singing his heart, to a room full of people, sharing what matters most to him. In those moments he shared the intimacy of a deep conversation about the state of the world and the reality of God. And I felt it. In those moments I knew that God is good, because God is alive in the hearts of other people.
The part I play in the reconciliation of the world is small, but I play a part. More importantly though, I am not alone.
Last night, I did.
As Christians, I feel we spend a lot of time trying to convince ourselves that everything is okay. Or perhaps, this is just me. I sing worship songs at the top of my lungs, repeating to myself that "It is well with my soul." Confession: It is rarely "well" with my soul. Most of the time I just like the harmony and echo that is the girl part of the song. Strike me down, I said it.
I tend to dwell on negative things...I mean, look around, it's not like I have a lack of material for contemplation. But as I begin to recognize the source of my negativity, I have conversely begun to have eyes to see the goodness of God in the Right Here, Right Now. My new (inconsistent) ability to experience God in my present tense has a lot to do with letting Him surprise me. But as I learned in social dance class on Friday, I am HORRIBLE at letting someone else lead. I want to know what's going on, so I'm ready and won't fail (which is a whole other conversation).
A guy I follow on Twitter recently tweeted "Lower your expectations. It's the unexpected that you're expecting." (@rands) SO true. This all equals a big fat load of uncomfortable letting go. And honestly, just hoping and trusting God will show up.
Last night I went to a Tyrone Wells concert at the Hotel Cafe in LA with my friend Kim from my Life Group. Not only is it a sweet venue, but Tyrone was playing with Iain Archer, who was Irish and made me feel like I was in the movie Once, and Tony Luca who was apparently in the Mickey Mouse Club with Justin and Britney. The lead guitarist from Snow Patrol was there too and played a few songs with Iain. It was sweet.
I have seen Tyrone in concert before. It's always a good time. If you have never see him live, I highly suggest you go (ASAP, tickets keep going up in price! He is becoming sort of a big deal). Seeing Tyrone play this time was especially good for me at the stage of life I am in, where I am learning to have more faith that God is alive and present in other people.
Tyrone reminded me of very good things. To see a man passionate about what he does, passionate about the Lord, passionate about other people, and successful, is one of the most inspiring things to witness. And he's funny. (Go buy your tickets NOW, haha).
He ends every concert by singing a song he wrote called "When All is Said and Done", about how even though one day he might be rich and famous, when all is said and done it's our love for others and our relationship with God that matters. In truth, I have heard the song a few times. I have been to a handful of concerts, I have it on CD. It's a good song...but I've heard it...more than once. So towards the end, I saw it coming, and out of respect for a performer I knew I liked, I forced myself to pay attention. And for a few seconds it worked...until my mind inevitably wandered.
I was pulled back to reality when he stepped away from the mic, and kept singing. With the microphone no longer magnifying his voice, Tyrone trancended from performer to equal. I had never seen him do this before. In those moments, he was a man, singing his heart, to a room full of people, sharing what matters most to him. In those moments he shared the intimacy of a deep conversation about the state of the world and the reality of God. And I felt it. In those moments I knew that God is good, because God is alive in the hearts of other people.
The part I play in the reconciliation of the world is small, but I play a part. More importantly though, I am not alone.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
What I Learned from the Sound of Music
I have often thought about starting a blog. I have been told I should blog. People ask me if I have a blog. I have conversations about blogging. I write blog posts in my head. I actually have a secret blog that I never told anyone about (see if you can find it!).
As a journalism major, you are automatically classified as a writer (duh). But that doesn't mean you're good. It just means you turn in the assignments.
I have never blogged and rarely write because of what I am afraid you'll think and of who you'll compare me to. Growing up in front of a mirror in ballet class sure did wonders for my psychological development.
So here is my disclaimer, probably more for me than for you: I know someone else has already done it better, but here is where I will learn. Here is where I will publicly learn. (Because that's not scary.) Learn about everything from myself to how to set up a beautiful blog site to how to find my voice as a writer. And I'll write about the things I learn throughout my day.
Such as: Coco Chanel was a Nazi sympathizer.
We are going to get so much smarter together. It's gonna be GREAT.
So without further adieu, it's time-- time to start at the very beginning, because from what I hear, it's the very best place to start.
Oh, and here is a video from last winter for your entertainment.
Ummm...and if it doesn't work, I'm sorry? Remember, I really have no idea what's going on here.
<3
As a journalism major, you are automatically classified as a writer (duh). But that doesn't mean you're good. It just means you turn in the assignments.
I have never blogged and rarely write because of what I am afraid you'll think and of who you'll compare me to. Growing up in front of a mirror in ballet class sure did wonders for my psychological development.
So here is my disclaimer, probably more for me than for you: I know someone else has already done it better, but here is where I will learn. Here is where I will publicly learn. (Because that's not scary.) Learn about everything from myself to how to set up a beautiful blog site to how to find my voice as a writer. And I'll write about the things I learn throughout my day.
Such as: Coco Chanel was a Nazi sympathizer.
We are going to get so much smarter together. It's gonna be GREAT.
So without further adieu, it's time-- time to start at the very beginning, because from what I hear, it's the very best place to start.
Oh, and here is a video from last winter for your entertainment.
Ummm...and if it doesn't work, I'm sorry? Remember, I really have no idea what's going on here.
<3
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