NEW Blog

I've got another blog.
Expect fewer updates on this one.
Email/Facebook me if you want the URL for the other one.

Comments Concerning the Alleged "Three Day Rule"

The Three Day Rule blows.
Call whenever.
Email whenever.
Facebook whenever.
Text whenever.
Don't follow a manual.
"Move in passion, rest in reason."
Not everyone is loaded with patience.
Do what you feel moved to do.

Blind Date: Update

It went well, really well.

Like, two-and-a-half-hours-later-we're-still-here-chatting-and-neither-of-us-has-finished-dinner well.

Phone numbers were exchanged.

Blind Date

Tomorrow's the big event: the long anticipated blind date.

I'm really excited, almost obnoxiously so.

I want this to work, and I want this to be the start something for a change, but I've had this creeping idea lately that maybe I'm meant to be single . . . single, single, and it's making a lot of sense. What I want to do with every fiber of who I am is something that doesn't mesh well with a family, doesn't mesh well with having a significant other. And the things I want to do with my life, they almost literally keep me up at night as I think about how I can get from place A to place K.

It's food for thought, though. Maybe I'm meant to be single . . . . Everyone says that something you need to come to terms with at some point in your adult life before you can truly have a "successful relationship," so either way, whether I'm bound for it or just passing through, it's a step that I need to take.

Alright, this post is lame. Apologizes to all named and anonymous readers. The next one will be better.

At a Strange Place

Everyone says that the "tween years" are the hardest years in which for a person to truly identify themselves with a place where they ought to be.

I'd like to respectfully disagree with the scientists and their likes who have made their assertion.

I'm really struggling at the moment to truly place myself in some sort of distinct "age category," for lack of a better term. I'm legally an adult, I work full-time, I'm going on my first ever blind date Thursday, I'm moving out of state in less than two months, and yet, I feel so small and so young.

I don't know if it's the sharing a vehicle thing, living at home, or just spending a lot of time with kids who are a couple of years older than me, but I'm feeling a lot littler than I am.

And it's bizarre. I haven't felt so insignificant in awhile.

When the Moment Comes . . . .

When the moment comes and the situation arises . . . .
do you wait for yourself to finish processing all the pros and cons that accompany the decision before you act?
do you jump before you can see the landing pad?
do you think about today or tomorrow?

Where I'm At

The moon, a welcome watchlight to those returning home, looms warmly over the horizon as the radio softly plays a familiar melody. Despite the ethereally tranquil surroundings, I'm bothered by something.

I have reached the conclusion as of late that I allow the current state of relationships to color memories. Recalling some of the most beautiful moments I've had, some of them occured between people who I am still quite close to, others occured between people with whom I've had a falling out with since. This statement alone means little, as I'm surely not the first to experience. But I'm saddened by the fact that things that happened after the original event have cast negative shadows upon the original. Beautiful moments have been discolored and have molded.

And I'm bothered by the fact that, as I drive home alone, I genuinely wish that there was a someone for me to call when I reach my destination. I try so hard to be emboldened, independent, and the sort of person who will achieve her goals regardless of my relationship status, but I miss being "in" a relationship.

("In a relationship." That's such a funny phrase. It almost makes it sound as if it's that simple -- all you do is jump, as in jumping into a puddle, a pond, a lagoon, etc. A deceiving phrase, I think.)

Driving home, I guess I find myself sad that I'm still sad and letting it retroactively affect other things, and I'm sad that I'm not content at the moment.

I want more . . . of everything.
I want a more remarkable life than the one I'm leading right now.
I want to know my friends more deeply.
I want a long-lasting relationship.
I want a fantastic job.
I want to happy with where I'm going in the fall.
I want to know that I'll get where I'm aiming for.

As the clock approaches midnight, most find themselves asleep.
Conversely, I lie awake in my thoughts.

Something Fabulous

Facebook has this feature where a person can write little notes to other people anonymously through what they call an "Honesty Box."

Anyways, someone -- a guy, actually -- left me a note. A really sweet little note.

And I'm really, genuinely, completely flattered, but I have no idea who left it. (Well, I might have some idea . . . . )

Anywho -- it made my night.

If you wrote it, thanks so much and just ask me out for coffee or something, you dork. ;)

The Life I Want

I want to be a certain sort of person who lives a certain sort of life.

I want to the sort of person who is perpetually a dreamer because being realistic is overrated.
I want to be the sort of person who has true tales of adventures abroad.
I want to be the sort of person who has nothing but love for every person I encounter along this crazy path but life.
I want to be the most intense person you've ever met.
I want to be different, markedly different.
I want to be crazy about Jesus.

I want to live a life worthy of writing about.
I want to fall madly in love in a way the world has yet to know.
I want to feel alive every moment of the day, every day of my life.
I want to travel the world and call no single country my home, but I'd rather lead the life of a nomad, a student of cultures.
I want to do something that will make every person who's ever met me want to brag about it.

I want something so much greater than the mundanities of this life.
I want somethin bigger.

Somebody I Want to Call

There's somebody I want to call, but I'm hesitant, and I'm hesitant for all the wrong reasons.

There's a fellow I know who, at his grad party, I suggested that we get together at some point during the summer to discuss Atlas Shrugged, a book we're both reading, simply because I've gotten the impression from other people that it's the sort of book that is more fun to talk about than it is to read.

And now, I'm wimping out, even though he totally asked for my number.

Childhood's Over

A few weeks ago, my parents, after much "thinking," decided to put our lake cabin up for sale. We expected to receive very few substantial bids, and in our minds, August 1st or so would be the closing date.

Well, they were wrong. The first people to see the cabin decided they wanted to purchase it and placed a good bid. My parents countered, and the buyers countered back with a competitive bid with the contingency that my family would close within weeks.

We're closing Friday.

Anyways, this weekend was our last weekend at the place, and as I left this morning, I couldn't help but feel like my childhood has abruptly drawn to a close. I haven't felt like a "child" in any true sense for years, but within the past week, I've spoken at commencement, received my diploma, said good-bye for the summer to two close friends who took on positions as camp councellors, and just this weekend, I said good-bye to a boat, two jet skiis, and a house that have marked my summers.

We'd bought our boat used when I was in elementary school, we'd bought the cabin when I was in middle school, and we'd had the jet skiis for just two years, but these items have cumulatively been the backdrop for so many of my childhood memories.

It was behind that boat that I became the adept tuber I am today. I learned how to kneeboard and water ski with that boat. I've jumped off the back of it hundreds of times. I've read many books while laying aboard it.

And the cabin . . . when you're at the cabin, you both wash the dishes and run around all day in our swimsuit. I say that meaning that no one is fully an adult there because you're part of a cooperative effort to make sure the place doesn't fall apart, but you're also apart of a collaboration to see who can get the darkest tan, tube the wildest, swim the hardest, etc.

And the two jet skiis . . . they've been my retreat during the past few summers when I've been all-too-anxious to leave the immediate vicinity of my family during our isolated stays at the lake. I've felt alive on them as I exceeded speeds of 50 miles an hour traveling across the lake. In short . . . we've bonded. ;)

Anyways, these things have marked my life, and now they're gone.

Within one week, I have received both the written and unwritten proof that life is in fact moving on. Here I am, standing at a crossroads, and while the moment is one I've anticipated for years, it nonetheless feels abrupt.

Overwhelmed

The day after my graduation party, I had opened up my cards, leaving the envelopes in one pile and methodically jotting down who gave what, etc. Leaving the envelopes on the floor, I largely forgot about them until my dad reminded me I needed to do some tidying up.

Frustrated by some of the day's events, I was feeling a little down, and I looked at this pile of envelopes, some 20-30, and was touched. When things get hectic and terms become gray, I forget about all the people who really do care, and on Tuesday night, I was reminded. I still can't believe the number of people who came (around 150 . . . we think), and I have been dually flattered and humbled by the outpouring of love.

Thank you to everyone. You make my life.

Affirmation Phrase

I'm flipping through my self-meditation book, reading a few of the koans (questions with no true "logical" response meant to disprove logical reasoning, more or less) and such, and I happen to notice an affirmation on one of the pages.

"Affirmation: I accept the world just as it is."

What the hell?

To accept the world just as it is is to give up on humanity. Our world faces tremendous amounts of poverty and inhumanity. People are dying as I type because they believe in God, because they question tyrannical governments, because they see something better for themselves. So many people are on the breaking point -- their concerns are so much more imminent than my selfish desires, and to accept the world for what is it is is to condone those who have forced a way of life upon them.

What are we doing?

Are we really approving of ignorance? Is that what we aspire to, to accept what we feel cannot be changed?

Granted, some things can't be changed. I cannot, for example, move the moon a little closer to Earth, or telepathically tell a goat that it needs to produce more milk. No can do.

But to consciously give up on change . . . I cann't accept that. I just can't.

What are we doing?

Positive Karma

Shortly after 3 PM today, I found myself on 17th headed west (bad idea) as I was driving a friend home, and of course, it was a zoo, but that's typical. The traffic was stop-and-go, and we were just chatting while listening to the radio.

All of a sudden, I heard a loud CRUNCH.

"Did we just get hit?" I asked my bud as I parked the vehicle I was driving so I could get a better idea of what had just happened. The SUV behind us had been rearended by a small car and the resulting scene was two drivers being incredibly rude to each other while my buddy tried to mitigate as I dialed 911 to explain the situation.

Anyways, the point of this story is that I felt really good about myself when the whole ordeal was done. I'd stepped out of a normal person's comfort zone to help some others when they needed it in a crisis, and . . . like I said, I felt good about myself.

Amelie Soundtrack

I absolutely adore the Amelie soundtrack. Virtually all of the tracks fall under the realm of instrumental music, but they're more ambient than anything. Most, moreover, could be the background music to optimistic rising plot action -- making it henceforth and ipsofacto great music for any activity you take on.

This has been a lame caffeinated rant, but I hope you get the drift.

Work

During the past week, I've had discussions with both my sister and a close friend of mine regarding whether women ought to stay home with their children or continue to work. Both concurred that women should stay home until their children are 10-12 and able to watch themselves, but to my surprise, I found that I had a different take on the issue -- I hate to say it, but my kids, whomever they wind up being, will probably have things like daycare because I really want to work.

I really, really want to work.

At this point, I practically resent college. I am ready to be out in the world, making my impact. I am at odds with the idea that college hinders me from doing this, internships aside, for the next few years and that grad school will have the same effect.

Not that I've ever contemplated not going to college. College is my means of achieving an end. I understand that more than anything else, but I'm aching to be doing something greater, something larger, something more grandioese.

My eventual goal is to work for some organization like the Department of State, the UN, or WorldBank, but I want to RIGHT NOW.

Ugh. Patience is not one of my virtues.

Self-Meditation Book Quote

"If you follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track, which has been there all the while waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living." -- Joseph Campbell


This comes from a self-meditation book I received for graduation. Truer words have never been spoken, though.

Starting Fresh

Everything in my life feels like it's starting over. High school's just ended for me, so that's done, and summer (and college inevitably) will be starting soon, and many friendships that I'd let stale are reviving themselves, so it seems as if life's definitely going through a spring period.

But I'm excited. I've needed a change for awhile, and this is most certainly a welcome one.

Moreover, I've decided that a new blog is also in order because it turns out the latter one had more readers than I realized. In the blog, I'd been quite open about a lot of things that I'd been going through, and while I'd have explained anything to anyone who asked me about it, or almost anyone, this is easier than trying to edit that one.

If you've got any further questions regarding that decision, (i.e. Why I didn't delete it?), ask me in person or via comment.