Faithful readers! (Tumbleweeds stretch across the horizon, and an echo comes back to me...reader, reader, reader...)

I want YOU to tell me what to write about next. I have far too many ideas, so I just sit and stare at the computer.

• Movies that have defined my life
• My take on love stories
• Why I am in love with storytelling
• my favorite childhood memories
• the death of life (in the form of my grandmother)
• my experience with w131
• my most embarassing moments
• your pick?
  

16...22...

This is the first night in a long time that I have had completely to myself, and I must admit that it is pretty fabulous. I edited some pictures, ate some leftover pizza, went to Borders, watched a movie, and now, at 1:24 in the morning, I thought it a good time to write that blog I have been meaning to write.

You see, (you being the four people who read this) I have this incredible addiction to surveys. I have loved filling them out since college, and last year, when I received one in my email, I was so pleased to get it going with my group of friends. For a few days, it seemed that nearly everyone was drifting back to 1999, and I actually learned quite a few tidbits of insight, which I really quite enjoy. So, when this "16-Things" survey started circulating around Facebook, I got nervous. If I did this honestly, I didn't want it to be a Facebook message. If I didn't do it honestly, then what would be the point in doing it? I think that we all desire connection with others, and I think there is something to be said for learning more about a person as you invest time in a friendship. It is easy to get stagnant. It is easy to watch movies and depend on memories. I think little surveys, however cliche or stupid they may be, actually help jump-start renewed interest in getting to know each other.

Or wait, maybe they are just a way for people to waste time while supposedly studying for finals. Does anyone else think about this stuff? Seriously, I have been tormented about what I would choose to tell the world (the four of you) that would reveal a little about who I am. I don't talk to people like I used to, so here is my chance. This will certainly not be funny enough. I will also repeat words, which will annoy me.

1. I actually don't think it is necessarily right, but I think I value humor and intelligence above most qualities. And integrity. It is often a goal of mine (sub-conscious until I think it over) to create something that makes people laugh. I want to be around people who make me laugh, make me think, and tell it to me straight. Is there better company than that?

2. I am fascinated by the way people work in community with each other. I am fascinated by the workings of the brain as well. I don't care so much about the biological side of life; I am tremendously intrigued by the psychological and sociological aspects of human interactions. I feel that if I ever choose to pursue a higher degree, it will have to be in one of these sciences. (However, I fear research, so I doubt it will ever happen.)

3. I have so many passions, and I have so many goals. There is much I want to accomplish in my life, but I often feel that I choose to get on Facebook or watch the Food Network. I get tired thinking about all that I want to do, but I still want to do it. I just don't want to let anyone down in the process, especially myself.

4. Major goal: write a book. This past summer, I decided that my book would be about "America." I want to travel across the United States during one summer and document life through pictures and interviews. I know it is has been done, so I don't know how to spin it to make it publishable, but I think it would be amazing. AMAZING.

5. Whenever I am in the middle of grading a lot of papers, I get really fidgety. I can't sit in one place for more than thirty minutes at a time, and I have to have something else distracting me, or I start to feel really nervous. (This is gross, just warning you...) Often, my already-disgusting feet get ravished during grading. If I have nothing else to do, I rip skin off of my feet to keep my hands busy. It is disgusting.

6. Speaking of disgusting, I am consumed with being overweight. I think about my weight no less than twenty-five times a day (probably a lot more), and I hate looking in the mirror or seeing myself in pictures. What is strange is that I don't want to be vain, and I also don't want to be fat. Yet, I really don't want to discipline my life in order to change that. I am consumed and trapped at the same time. Really, though, I pull the lid over my head and hold on tightly. No matter, I hate the way I look; I hate that I hate the way I look; I hate that the way we look matters so much, and I hate that I don't do anything about it. And I hate that I feel that I should. But don't. You get the cycle. It is monstrous.

7. Sometimes, I feel paralyzed by all that I wish I could do but can't. I have never once thought, "Geesh, I wish I could be a better skateboarder," or "Well, golly, I am dying because I can't fly a plane." BUT, I wish I could write in a way that made Matt and Eric happy. I wish I could drip words onto a page that made people gasp, rather than merely express some personal thoughts with correct grammar. My favorite authors have basically been a few students and Donald Miller because their writing makes me feel, makes me connect. I want to create writing like that and fear that I never will. I talk about it a lot, but I think it bothers me more than almost anything else. And, I wish I could play sports like Drew, an unlimited amount of fearlessness and athleticism that would afford me the right to compete in basically anything I tried. There are more, but the more I think of all that I can't do, the less thankful I am for what I can.

8. I have the best job in the world. Hands down. I am extraordinarily blessed.

9. I vacillate between a complete sense of calm and a complete sense of despondency when it comes to my life as a single woman. As I get older, there are many days when I can't imagine being married (to anything other than school), and I feel like I am exactly where I need to be, and there are other days when I know how much I would love knowing someone completely (as humanly possible). Part of me thinks I will never get married, which would be fine. Part of me wonders why in the world God would make me so relationally programmed if I were not going to end up in the ultimate human relationship one day.

10. Similar to 9, I honestly don't know if I want to have children. It isn't going to happen without a husband, obviously, but the concept of being a mother is hard for me to imagine. It wasn't always that way.

11. I really like cleanliness, but I am terribly bad at maintaining such a state in my classroom, my car, and my apartment. I HATE the following chores: doing the dishes, laundry, organizing papers, and above all, raking. :) (I know it doesn't belong, but I had to put it on there.)

12. I haven't been to the doctor, other than when I broke my foot, in about five years. Up until last week when I cracked my tooth, it was longer for the dentist. I have some of the best health insurance around, but I fail to make appointments for stuff like that. I have so many responsibilities that include other people depending on me; medical duties for myself always get pushed aside. (So do the above chores, actually.) This is yet another aspect of my personality that is annoying to me; yet, I do nothing about it.

13. I love sitting in a dark room when a Christmas tree is lit. When I was little, I would scoot up to the tree, lay down on my back, and put my head under the base of the tree. I loved looking at the twinkling lights from that perspective in the silence of a winter evening. Christmas trees calm me, and I always HATE unplugging them.

14. Although I LOVE watching live theater, whenever I do so, I inevitably feel a bit melancholy. In the same way that I get a strange longing for college when I am on college campuses, I always dream of being on stage whenever I see a play. In the same way that I dream of writing a book, I have no justifiable reason for such a wish. I have seen limited audiences from the viewpoint of a character, and I have received no encouragement that I could ever be successful in writing; yet, I feel both are an intrinsic part of who I am, a part that has yet to be fully discovered.

15. My dad is an alcoholic. He chose alcohol over staying with his family. Although I am actually grateful that my parents got divorced, I think this truth about my life has defined way more of who I am than I even realize. And, I also think I have spent much of my life running away from that fact.

16. I want to learn how to ballroom dance SO MUCH.

17. I don't know how to put on eyeshadow, and I am jealous of those who do.

18. I am thinking about getting a perm (body wave kind of thing). I was inspired by Sarah's hair at the Christmas party. Aubry, would this be a terrible idea?

19. I really hate it when people use symbols and numbers in place of letters to create words about themselves. I don't understand why people can't just use the words? It makes them look less intelligent, and that bothers me that it doesn't bother them.

20. If there is any kind of snack mix or pita chip in my vicinity, I will devour the entire bag before the night is through.

21. Peppermint hot chocolate from Borders makes life just a little better.

22. I am utterly afraid of getting older. Yet, my fascination for life grows as I live longer and longer. I guess I am stuck in a paradox of sorts. I love and hate that.

Lists Yet to be Written

1. Top Ten Movies that have defined my life.
2. Top Ten Moments " " " " ".
3. Ten Things You May Not Know About Me.
4. The Ten Fears of My Life.
5. Top Ten Lessons I Have Learned as a Teacher.


More? Who knows? These shall come.

I am insanely judgmental of people who are judgmental.
I get annoyed at those who talk about others being annoying.
I rarely laugh at people who want people to laugh at them.
Gossip makes me uncomfortable.
I am bothered by drinkers who constantly talk about drinking.
Or druggies (is that from fourth grade?) who constantly talk about drugs.
I stare down my nose at those who claim to be better.
I will talk your ear off and then complain about those who ramble.


People are my greatest fascination, but geesh, I am a walking contradiction.


(This didn't really make sense. I am sleepy.)

"Psalm of Life"

As I "grow up," I am becoming more and more aware of what I value and respect and who I aspire to be. Since I am a teacher, you might not be surprised to know that I love people who love to think. I love students who want to soak in knowledge. I love students who take the time to filter through the rocks and dirt and come out on the other side with diamonds. A love of learning and a willingness to teach others are two qualities I greatly admire.

When this school year started, I realized something very fast. My two junior classes (B4 and S4) are collectively the best two junior classes I have taught. (Former students, please do not get mad at me...) From early on, I sensed an eagerness to participate, an appreciation of humor, and a legitimate interest in the material, at least more often than usual. I have caught myself bragging about my juniors quite a few times this year, and I am afraid of losing the sense of camaraderie that resides in both classes when the semester ends. Amidst the new faces I have met are some faces that I knew as freshmen. I thought I would not like having students at different stages of the game, but I now know that there is a joy that is attached to seeing a student grow up, to see him understand his own identity more clearly and often to see that student care about learning and success in a sincere and different way. Throughout this year, that joy has not been more abundant than when attached to thoughts of Thomas Imel.

Thomas was an average student as a freshman, seemingly smart enough to get by, but never putting forth more effort than necessary. He was inquisitive, but he was fairly sedate in class, so I never quite knew what was going on inside his head. Maybe I always unfairly assumed he didn't care too much about English, but my impression was that he wasn't living up to his potential.

When he walked into my room again as a junior, I expected the same. Nice kid. Has a sense of humor. Won't cause trouble. Will probably get a B or a B-.

I was wrong.

All year, Thomas did his work, and he did it well. All year, Thomas asked me questions that reflected deep thought on his part, and his ability to question and think became a welcome challenge to me and to the rest of the class. All year, Thomas voiced his opinions when he felt it necessary, but no matter if he was speaking, he was always there--always with me. Somehow, in a class of booming personalities, Thomas became a quiet leader. Without ever advertising for it, people started to look to him to offer his intelligent view on any particular subject. And yes, when the time was right, he certainly wasn't afraid to argue with Alex.

And when progress reports rolled around, and I got to tell Thomas that he had an A (I didn't tell him that he had the highest grade in the class), I asked him a simple question. "So, when did you decide that you were gonna start working?" His reply,"I work at something when it matters."

I didn't tell him, but that was the best complement I have received all year.

Actually, I didn't tell him any of this. I didn't tell him how much joy it gave me that he was working so hard. I didn't let him know that I was proud of him for becoming a student who I truly respect and admire. I didn't let him know that I thought his future was bound to be something special if he chose to embrace who I thought he could be. Really, all of these thoughts have crossed my mind over the last three months, but I never voiced them.

And now, as you may know, my opportunity is gone.

Last week, Thomas was in a serious car accident, and he has been struggling for his life ever since. Today, his struggle ceased. It is actually hard for me to write it, but today, Thomas died.

Again, we must learn how to cope with one of the toughest truths of life: death. Again, we must seek solace in our faith, in our friends and family, and in the hope that no matter how deep the pain sinks, joy will somehow surface again. Again, we must learn the sobering truth that we are only promised this moment, just this one, and how dare we take it for granted.

These lessons don't get easier. I am not an expert on dealing with death. I do know that I am here if you need to talk. I do know that moving on isn't an injustice, but it rarely happens overnight. Healing is a process as is grieving, and there is no rule book to help us do it faster or more easily or with fewer tears. I do know that life continues, and we all handle these times in different ways. It's okay. I stand before you (figuratively?) as a bumbling idiot, who doesn't really know what to think or feel or say, so, I will admit my inadequacy and do what I can to help. I do know that my best gift might be to give my students the sense of normalcy that we so crave in times like these. It is okay to smile in the midst of confusion and suffering, and so, laughter I will seek to share.

I challenge you to listen to his words. I challenge you to "work at what matters." I challenge you to challenge yourselves in all areas of your life. Dare to think. Dare to succeed. To tell people when they amaze you. To ask questions. To forgive. Dare to love. We waste so much of our lives worrying and whining and wasting, and it should not take a young person's death to make us realize that. Since I never spoke these words of encouragement to Thomas before he died, I couldn't function until I knew someone would hear them. My silence will be my own struggle, and God-willing, I won't make that mistake again. Thomas left an impact on my life in a way that I would not have expected. His death only makes what he meant to me in life more clear.

...Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

There is something very special about fall in Indiana.

It is almost a presence unto itself. Crisp. Cool. Blue. Gold. Rust. Orange. Fresh.

It incites memories of smiles and sweaty foreheads, pumpkin carving and the crackle of bonfires.

I don't have the talent or the words to express how it makes me feel, but I do know I love this time of the year.

Super Sweet 16 Ain't So Super

Two weeks ago, I was sitting in the lounge of my apartment complex waiting for my mom to finish with a client so that we could eat lunch. There was a television in the corner of the room, and as I was sitting there, I watched in horror as an advertisement played for an upcoming show.

Let me give you a little taste from the website:

"Watching My Super Sweet 16 can give us a glimpse of "the good life." Amidst the demanding divas and epic meltdowns that lead up to insanely over-the-top teenage birthday bashes, we get a look at the posh lives of wealthy families. And while we take that often envious look at how the other half lives, how many of us sit there wishing that these spoiled teens could be slapped with a serious dose of reality?

Wish no more, because they're about to get Exiled! Fed up with their seemingly endless mooching, their parents have had enough of this Sweet 16 set and are ready to send them away to learn the lesson of a lifetime. They've arranged to place their children in remote parts of the world with host families who have never tasted anything close to the high society life...shipped away from their plush homes and easy lives and Exiled to foreign locations such as the jungles of the Amazon, the tundra of the Arctic Circle, the Andes mountains and remote islands in the South Pacific where they'll have to live like local commoners with none of the amenities of their normally privileged lives."

I sat stunned for so many reasons. First of all, I knew why people would watch a show like this, but that didn't make me any less angry. It's just so funny, they will say. Does satire have to be on purpose to be satire? Is MTV a modern-day Twain? I hope so, but somehow, I doubt it. The one time I turned on the television and watched My Super Sweet 16 for a few minutes was possibly a low point in my life. I almost threw a shoe at my tv. This was worse. Take those same people and unleash them on underdeveloped and remote areas with a crew of cameras and a bad attitude and "make quality television." What did the people of Kenya ever do to deserve such a fate? Yes, there is a remote possibility that the sweet sixteen-ers could learn something and be the better for it. I honestly hope that happens. But that wouldn't make very good television. Rather, I am sure there will be exploitation of stupidity, unreasonable expectations, ungratefulness, and an excess of crying over nothing. Needless to say, I was angry. I am angry.

When I say that the world hates America because of MTV, I don't really mean it. I mean that MTV seems to put on display all that I deem wrong with America. It isn't that the media has distorted the reality of who we are. Heck, I don't even know if other countries even hate us. I don't even know if it is possible to have a national identity, but we do, don't we? I do know, though, that there are times when I want to turn a giant mirror on the United States and beg for people to pay attention, not to see if their pores are visible but rather to take a moment and look at who we seem to be, who we are.

I am not pointing fingers (well, I am...a little) at everyone else in America. I am despicable in my own way, so don't hear only passing judgment. I am not the close-minded naysayer who thinks that all of America is tumbling into hell and there's nothing that can be done about it. There are so many beautiful people who try to improve the quality of life for others all the time. I just wonder sometimes if people realize how petty and selfish and spoiled and cruel and repulsive we can be...appear to be...are.

The tone of parts of American culture freaks me out. I don't have Potter's word list to know what best way to describe this tone, but I know I don't like it. I don't like it that on the whole, my students don't value what is not entertaining. I don't like it that I have been allowed to skate through much of life on the gifts I have been given, rather than on the sweat and tears of my fight to achieve. And, to be honest, I probably have more fight in me than many I know. I don't like it that family is sadly growing into one of life's appointments, rather than being one of its foundations. I don't like that we make superheroes out of spoiled, unmotivated rich kids and create countless shows to show the "world" just how well we can carelessly waste money. I don't like it that we have to shock to be heard. I don't like it that I sat behind a school bus today and watched someone throw trash out the window, as if that were no big deal. I don't like it that so many people seem to drift through the days, rather than make them matter, depending on quick fixes and identity adjustments rather than on people and conversations and learning and God. I don't like it that kindness is an exception rather than the rule. I don't like negligence. Defiance. Ignorance. I could go on.

So, when I say that MTV is the moral compass by which Americans can chart their demise, I don't mean that exactly. I guess it is my way of simplifying the fact that the moral compass of America is seemingly broken. MTV just provides a mapquest view.

Good thing I always have the choice to turn off the television.
Or, better yet, help to change the station.

When my mom had her heart attack, I didn't cry. I might have shed a few tears along the way, when I thought about the enormity of what had happened, but overall, I handled the situation with ease. Even as she was being whisked out of the doctor's office and to the hospital, I remained calm. I just kept thinking...she will be fine.

How would I have handled it if she didn't make it?

Would I have brushed it aside with a thought about how she was in a better place? Would I have turned numb? Would I have crumbled under the pressure? Would I have gotten angry?

I cried when Dumbledore died.

What kind of twisted mind must I have? I didn't cry when my mom almost died, but I often cry because of fictional characters.

I was told a long time ago that I should never apologize for the blessings in my life. I should simply use them for the glory of God. I wrote awhile back that I don't handle loss well, but I was speaking entirely on a selfish and personal level. I don't like losing. I actually wasn't talking about losing people. What would I become if my life's tragedies were actually tragic? I am already a selfish and prideful person. How would I handle it if my mom's heart attack became death? If my leak became a flood?

You can't prepare yourself for moments like those. We all have the "it won't happen to me" mindset or we would perpetually live in fear, but what if I have swung so far in the "what's meant to be will be" mindset that I have lost a bit of my humanity? Of my empathy?

Perry Meridian lost a student late last night. I didn't know this student well, but I know his mom. She is one of my mom's dearest friends. When I found out what happened, I didn't know how to react, but my instincts rose from the depths of my gut.

Pretend it's all fine. Move on. Live.

I am masterful at compartmentalizing. At times I wear my heart on my sleeves, but for the most part, I am where I am. I am not hiding anything when I laugh with people and then go home to a grandmother who is slowly losing her mind. I am not hiding the truth when I am excited for my students to watch my play just hours after sitting with my mom as she tried to figure out how to help her friend in need. Somehow, I am built for moving on.

I can't even imagine the pain that Sonja must feel right now. I can't fathom what it would be like to lose a child. I don't know how she will breathe. I don't know how she will be able to let her daughter keep living when there is so much risk around every corner. I can't understand the debilitating pain.

I am so scared of the day when I might have to face that.
I am more scared that I might breathe just fine, no struggle at all. Somehow, that seems worse to me.

Famous First Words

I really want to be better at blogging. I often think about SO MUCH during the day that I think I will internally combust if I don't get my thoughts out, but somehow, when I sit down at the computer, I never know how to say what I want to say. It always ends up sounding so trite. Maybe I think too much about "sounding right" when I should think about saying something. I don't know. It is a fine line. There are so many topics I want to discuss, but it would help so much to know who reads my words. I tend to work better when I know I have an audience. Is that vain?

So, for now, I will try on my famous first words. Here are a few of the blogs I have thought about writing. Maybe if I get started, someday, I will finish.

• I have a slight obsession with iced coffee.
• Watching my grandmother lose her mind makes me dread getting old in a fiercely fearful way.
• Did anyone else hate it when girls wore cute clothes and make-up to class in college?
• In all my years of being girly (as girly as I could ever be), I don't remember placing "intelligence" extremely high on my list of ideal traits for the man I would marry. That has changed.
• Singing in the car brings me great joy.
• I really wish that I got to ride a rollercoaster and zoom down a waterslide this summer.
• I believe that this year will test my character more than any year I have lived thus far.
• Why do so many hate America? MTV.
• Not everyone thinks like I do. Really?
• Let me tell you about ground turkey.
• I really love winning.

Mistaken

So, I wasn't lying before, but today, I don't feel much like a Queen. Of anything.

Filling in the Gaps

My mom had a heart attack two months ago. And that, as they say, changed everything.

Almost.

When I was five, I broke my arm. It was a pretty bad break, and it happened at the beginning of the summer. Two cracked bones. Huge cast. No swimming for the entirety of vacation. Baths with a plastic bag and my arm hanging over the edge of the tub. I headed into first grade with a smaller cast. When I got it taken off finally, my arm was pale and skinny, but otherwise, it healed marvelously. I had heard that bones often grow back stronger than they were to start, and I don't have Dr. Lantz here to confirm that, but I remember believing it when my family went to visit friends for a cookout. Until that point, my dad would always want me to shuck the corn on the cob, but he always made fun of me for how long it took because I wasn't strong enough to take much of the husk off at one time. After my arm healed, I was given the job again, and it was like I was the queen of shucking. I immediately attributed it to the fact that indeed my arm had grown back stronger.

Our physical hearts are not like that, but I think our spirits are.

Let's just say that after an extended period of time spent moping and trying to figure out what my life has become, I have decided to be stronger and better. Enter Jacqui--the new Queen of shucking the suck out of life. Poetic, eh?

This summer has been a slow blur. I don't really know what I did. I don't have as many individual memories, and I have no stories of trips or camp to share. I spent a lot of time in front of the computer, and I read a lot. I spent a lot of time thinking, and I have probably been to the grocery store 37 times. I have become a better cook. I have learned to do the dishes right after I use them and not complain. I have looked forward to Monday movie nights and Tuesday frisbee games. I have removed red meat and dairy and salt from my diet, except for all the times when I sneak away to eat ice cream with friends. I got in a wreck. I got a new car. I said goodbye to Sarah. For a week, I tried getting a tan. I've taken naps and watched a lot of Bravo, Food Network, and HGTV. I finished graduate school. I guess I do know. I have seen a lot of rain, and I have felt a lot of sunshine.

In the past few weeks, since finishing grad school, I have realized that there is no time like now for doing what you always wanted to do. It is like mom's brush with death painted me a new color. I don't think anyone would call me boring or passive, but I needed to dig deep in order to wake up. All of a sudden, there is so much more that I want. There is so much that I want to enjoy. I think it is okay that for the first time in my career I am not ready to go back to school. It isn't because I won't love it once I am there, but all of a sudden, I remembered that I am more than a teacher.

• I am an actress...my first play rehearsal is tomorrow.

• I am a designer...I have spent the past two weeks cleaning, organizing, and re-designing my apartment.

• I am a chef...what if I want to enter cooking contests and make gourmet meals for my friends?

• I am an artist...my photography business is almost up and running.

• I am a friend...sharing laughs while driving to DQ and getting excited for lounging on the couch for Wednesday night TV are precious moments that I should not take for granted.

• I am a daughter...I have to put my family first now, and that is finally okay with me.

• I am a child of God...this one feels like a shoe that doesn't fit right now, and I think my understanding of neglect is getting in the way of my understanding of grace.

I guess that in my seemingly blank summer, I filled in the gaps. As in, had plans gone my way, I don't think I would have given myself enough time to slow down enough to be anyone new. I wish that my mom was 100% fine. I wish that she had the life she has always dreamed of, but in the midst of her heartache and our family's adjustments, I guess I feel like I am on my way to having mine.

Interim

So, basically all I do is think these days, but I can't seem to translate from brain to paper.

Instead, let me tell you about a few goals I hope to accomplish before I die. (These are new.)

1. I want to have a photo studio in my house. I want to take people's portraits...for real.

2. I want to travel across the United States and publish a book about my travels that tells the stories of America mostly through pictures with a little narration. This traveling will take place during one summer. I have always dreamed of publishing a book. I am almost convinced this one will be the one that gets me there.

There you go.

They say...when it rains, it pours.

After this week, when my mom is home and my grad school electives are finished, I will write all that I have been thinking...which should fill a couple books. For now, I will let images speak for themselves.

You should read this.

When I don't have words that adequately suffice, Dana has them. Her post is not about me in any way at all, but it is. That's what is supernaturally strange about us, I guess. :)

http://danarambleson.blogspot.com/

Oh my...

Exhale.

(That is going to take a few weeks.)

Good.

So, I will write about today eventually, but I am still a little sleepy and sore to do so. I have noticed that we use words so often that they become cliche or meaningless, so you need to understand that when I say what I am about to say, I really mean it. I mean it in every sense of the word. Good...what is right, what is pure, what is admirable, what is fun, what is just plain amazing.

Today was a good day.

I'd Rather Today.

Today was so hectic.

And great.

At one point in the day, I was freaking out about something I had forgotten about, and a teacher said, "You have to give some of your stuff up." Another teacher overheard and said, "She can't."

I chuckled. And then I thought...teacher #2 is correct. Giving up NHS won't be hard; I think I gave it up a long time ago, but all the rest...it all means so much to me. I have been warned numerous times that I will burn out. I have been told not to give my life to the school. When I am absolutely consumed by the extras and I can't grade, I wonder if I am doing too much to the disadvantage of my students. Am I being unfair to those who are actually in my classes?

I might be a bit melodramatic. That side of me comes out when I am under a lot of stress and have had little sleep. (For instance, right now, the clock is ticking on my research paper...it is due in two and a half hours. I am writing this instead. I am an idiot.) No matter...I guess I just came to the conclusion that my job is to teach English, but my passion is to enhance the lives of my students. Now, don't get me wrong. I try to do that in my English classes as well, but things like Schools for Schools and Mini-O and Creative Writing Club and FCA are bigger than English. They are bigger than me. I like it that way.

Today was probably my favorite Mini-O yet.

Even though some haven't learned that being creative and goofy is much more fun than...well...dressing like a prostitute...for everyone involved, or that no one likes overt egotism, the day was simply grand. (Note to people with issues: It is fun to win. Enjoy it. Don't shove it down people's throats.) Anyway, all 18 teams were on time and ready to go. (Miracle.) Many teams really worked hard and had great costumes. We're on the upswing of Mini-O; I can feel it. Underclassmen have goals. Seniors getting excited about playing dress-up for a day means everything to next year's seniors and so on and so on; excitement is contagious. After school, thanks to great teacher volunteers and teams that actually listened, the Olympics ran like clockwork. I got to enjoy it. It seems like everyone did. People cheered and fell and clapped and ran and slid and pulled and tugged and weirdly hugged each other (I HATE that tennis ball relay)...and they had fun. I know it.

I LOVE watching people play. We are so often concerned with growing up and being mature that we forget what it is like to have fun like children. As we grow, fun often gets attached to getting drunk or sitting around and relaxing, and we forget how to play games. We forget how awesome recess was. We forget that creativity and teamwork and silly games can create memories that last. I am not trying to make the Mini-Olympics more important than they are. It is, in reality, just one tiny day in a lifetime of days. But I want people to hold onto the feeling of running around in the sun cheering and clapping and slipping and sliding and tugging and hugging, you know?

Don't be afraid to have costume parties when you are 27 and 87. Don't forget that relay races never go out of style. Really, I mean it. It is almost poetic to watch students about to graduate running around like fifth graders. It feels right.

And so, when someone tells me that I should give it up, I imagine I would end up feeling wrong. I'd rather today.

Goodness, I want to ballroom dance.

There are a lot of things I should be doing right now, but I just got to thinking.

We have a lot of cliches to describe "moments." We have "the calm before the storm," the "blink of an eye," the "life flashing before our eyes," etc. Each of my days is packed. When I get into my car at the end of the day, I usually exhale quite loudly. I know that I must go home and tackle Part II, but Part I usually feels like warp speed. Seriously, my days FLY. My nights do too, but most of the time, no one is coming to me with questions or forms or stories or complaints, etc. I am "on stage" for a good portion of every day, hoping I don't miss my lines or stumble into an entrance too late. Night brings sleepy eyes and so many distractions. It brings thoughts about what to do tomorrow, and it brings thoughts of what I didn't accomplish today. But, once in a while, when I am really lucky, I can rewind and see those moments that mattered.

It is as if I am in a constant state of fast-forward, but ever so often, the DVD slows almost to a pause...the screen shifts...the colors get bolder...and then, just as quickly as it slowed, fast-forward resumes. So, when I look back on my days, all combined, it is easy to miss the movie. It is easy to forget the dialogue, to lack conviction and passion, to get to one part without having understand the scene before. I cherish the slow. Goodness, I have to remember to breathe. A pocket-sized Deep Space. A laugh shared amongst freshmen in Blue 4. Nineteen seniors excited about their own Mini-O, their only Mini-O. Being there for my mother in the midst of hell. Ballroom dancing through my apartment with no one leading.

Slow down.

I can't stand fast-forward anymore.

Hmmm...

If I didn't teach classes...I could probably conquer the next four weeks without a nervous breakdown.

Considering the fact that I do, I think avoiding an eventual loss of sanity is an impossibility at this point.

Just a Scratch

I promised I would write about NKOTB. I really want to do that, but after forty minutes of saving pictures for that very occasion, I ran out of juice and don't have the brainpower to do anything creative or witty.
So, instead, I will do what I always do. Make THE LIST. You know what I mean...what I have to do until the end of the year. This one is exciting. I will put it in parts.

FCA

• New Officers
• Ultimate Frisbee Tourney
• Remaining Meetings
• Cook-out?

Schools for Schools

• The Walk-a-Thon…the fact that this only gets one line is humorous.

Creative Writing Club

• Deep Space goes to the printers on Friday. OH MY GOODNESS there is a lot to do by then...DONE
• Then, when we get it back, we have to distribute.
• Spring Fling Celebration
• Staff Applications and Decisions for next year
  

Mini-Olympics

• Ummm...run it.

The IDEA Reunion

• Ummm...plan it.
  

Graduate School

• The amount of work I have to do for this is UNCANNY, and the majority of the hardest stuff will fall during the last two weeks of school. Oh good. There is so much to do that I don't even want to bother listing it all here. Basically, as things are going, I will devote two nights a week to my studies to ensure the maintaining of my fairly decent GPA.
  

Oh yea! I teach!
11CP

• Novel papers...umm...when did those get turned in?
• Grade One-Pagers...DONE
  
• Create Modernism Test/Grade it...Halfway Done
  
• Create rubric for group teaching unit/grade analysis essays as well as group performance
• Administer and grade writing prompts
• Alter/grade finals
• Grade final assignment

9CP

• Grade R&J projects...DONE
• Grade R&J tests...Half-way DONE
  
• I JUST DECIDED RIGHT NOW...CANCEL R&J character analysis...I can't grade them!
• Begin Science-Fiction Unit--re-work it...create homework assignments...etc.
• Science-Fiction Unit Assignment? Create it...grade it...
• Grammar stuffs?
  
• Administer and grade writing prompts
• Grade final assignment
• Grade finals

9HGT

• Finish grading research papers
• Grade book projects...DONE
• Grade/create the rest of the vocabulary quizzes and test...Half-way DONE
  
• Put together all new class-chosen project...and run it for the school...OH GEESH.
• Put together new literary analysis assignments/grade these
• Grammar stuffs
• Grade final assignment
• Grade finals

Is that all? I feel like I am missing stuff...but this is good for me to get out of my head and onto...paper. Anything else?

"I can do everything through him who gives me strength." Philippians 4:13

May God be glorified GREATLY in the next six weeks.

Speaking of Tours

Here's a hint:

















More to come tomorrow, I promise.

Let me Take You on a Tour

Let me see if I get can get you to understand without sounding like a whiny baby, which is what I usually feel like.

So, until a few days ago, this was what my room had become. I know that many who read this (I only know one person who reads this for sure, but I will keep writing...) might not think this is a big deal, but you need to understand. I used to clean my apartment every week. When I lived with Adri, the messiness of Caleb nearly drove me over the edge. He was never this messy. But, somehow, I have gotten further and and further away from me. I just started letting this go, something that I could have actually easily controlled, because I just had too much else to do. Did I really? I don't know, but somehow, when I wasn't doing stuff that mattered, I certainly didn't want to be cleaning.

But, finally, last week, I decided that enough was enough. I had to go back.













I still have so much to do, but this was like climbing Mt. Everest for me. At midnight last Monday, I was busy organizing shelves in the kitchen. At 1am, I decided that it might not be wise to vacuum, only after finishing the dining room. Seriously, a weight lifted from my shoulders (even though I have yet to conquer the bathroom or finish the "den"), and I felt more whole than I had felt in a long time.

And, I wonder...why would cleaning ever make me feel so good? It lends me to believe that absolutely everything is spiritual, that our identity and our actions are all rolled into who we are created to be and what we have been created to do, and part of me, at least after this little victory, has realized that order is always going to be better than chaos. It isn't always going to be more exciting or more interesting, but in the end, it works.

Is this some huge epiphany? No.
But, maybe my problem is not being too busy. Maybe it is that I create chaos.

Just Throwing this Out There...

I don't know what to say for my entries (entry?) in Deep Space. I think about it quite often, but I never seem to know what it is I want to say. This is very frustrating.

I also can't seem to work up any motivation to work on my Showcase Teaching Unit, which is due tomorrow evening...UGH.

I would rather just...EUREKA. I just might have thought of what to write.

Note:

I would rather have themed nights with my friends.
I would rather get to know people.
I would rather play catch in the ocean.
I would rather be at an amusement park.
I would rather watch and guide and discuss with my students than give them grades.
I would rather take photographs.
I would rather eat ice cream.

More to come. (Don't I always say that?)

How is it March 17 already?

Where does the time go?

Sans Everything

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the canon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
(As You Like It, 2. 7. 139-167)

This...this is something about which I have much to say. But, I am so very sleepy right now. I shall venture to explore tomorrow.

Avocado and Turkey Wrap

I don't know how it happened, but I am living in filth.

Well, I think I know how it happened. I am unfocused, undisciplined, and lazy. And, the writer's strike occurred giving me no reason to clean each week for people coming over.

Yes, it dawned on me tonight.

The deletion of new television ruined my life.

:-)

I jest. (Even though I know that is when I stopped cleaning and shopping...)

I am simply drowning. I hate it. I don't know why I can't pull myself out of the water, or at least get someone to help me. I know the answers. I am just not heeding them. And then I complain. Urgh.

But, there is nothing wrong with my life. I have no terrible mishaps or worries. I have stresses that I didn't foresee, and I have a lot on my plate, but in reality, things should be just fine.

So, I will keep swimming.

I will wait for the sun to shine.

I will kick a little harder.

Cause hey, I went grocery shopping tonight. That has to stand for something, right?

Right.

Antwon (Antwoin, Antwone, Antwoine...) Died. May he rest in peace.

I think that I have been waiting a long while to write a post about my thoughts on the decay of the human mind, but it is Friday, I have to go to the license branch (UGH), and I would rather just say that laughing after school today was the best feeling I have had in a long while.

I LOVE when people laugh together.
Happy Weekend.

Antwon might be dead.

So, maybe I missed the memo on how to be an adult, but I am just not that good at it. I can handle lots of responsibilities, but when it comes to adult stuff, stuff that parents took care of when you were younger, I am simply lacking in the areas of knowledge and follow-through. Maybe some kids get these lessons from their moms and dads. Maybe some kids seek out the answers on their own. Maybe some kids are quicker learners than I. Maybe some kids make it to adulthood and just somehow have it all down.

But, my guess is that some don't. I bet I am not in the minority.

There should be a class. Seriously. Get professionals to come in. Give kids a class on adult stuff. A class that teaches that which might not make it into the average academic track, but one that is no less important than algebra or history. Don't dumb it down. Make it INCREDIBLY relevant. We can't have generations of people like me running around. Seriously.

What will be taught? Here are my initial ideas, in particular order:

1. Basic car maintenance. (Students will learn to change oil, change tires, know what makes what work so they don't end up sounding like idiots when they talk to mechanics, etc.)

2. The basics on buying a car and a house. What is most important? How do you avoid being scammed?

3. Financial planning. What do all those IRAs and 403s mean? How do you prepare for your future in a responsible way? Where is the best place to invest? What are your options? How do you deal with paying off school loans?

4. Basic plumbing. Can you fix a stopped up drain or a toilet bowl leak? Simple stuff. You should be skilled in such.

5. Basic carpentry and work with tools. Can you build simple pieces of furniture? Can you use a wrench correctly?

6. Preparing for a family. Smart (but not controversial, of course) ways to help teenagers think about what it takes to be a husband/wife (oh wait, we are already controversial here) and/or what constitutes good parenting. (I said this was my ideal list, okay?)

7. Job and career building. REAL-LIFE help and facilitating about picking a career and/or interview skills, etc.

8. Stress-management.

9. Living a balanced life...eating right, exercising, balancing work with fun, etc.

10. I don't really have a number 10, but I hate lists that end on odd numbers. So, we will just add budgeting to the list and/or dealing with insurance. :-)


This would be highly beneficial, and if anyone wants to teach me about 1-5, I would greatly appreciate it.

Did you know I have issues?

I remember when I first went to college and had email for the first time. Life was grand. I would get these surveys in the mail, and we would all fill them out. I would do them instead of studying, and Bekah and I even made one once and pretended it was real. (Secrets revealed.) Well, at some point I realized that I whenever I got one of these surveys, I HAD to fill it out. I couldn't help it. It was like a requirement. I didn't know why. I still don't, but I got this in the mail today, and I thought...I haven't filled one out in a while--here's to requirements. :)


1. What time did you get up this morning? 5:25am--Oh yeah.

2. Diamonds or pearls? Umm...silver?

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? 27 Dresses

4. What is your favorite TV show? Lost, The Office, Project Runway, Survivor, House...

5. What do you usually have for breakfast? If I eat it, it is most likely some kind of breakfast bar, but I can hardly get to school on time, so breakfast isn't usually an option.

6. What is your middle name? Ashley

7. What food do you dislike? Trout, liver, beef jerky

8. What is your favorite CD at the moment? I don't really listen to music very much anymore. So, at the moment isn't really relevant.

9. What kind of car do you drive? 1991 Oldsmobile. YES! Antwon.

10. Favorite sandwich? Either chicken salad or a ham and cheese submarino from Fazoli's

11. What characteristic do you despise? Apathy

12. Favorite item of clothing? Either my IU sweatshirt or my green scrubbs

13. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? Colorado. England. (AND Uganda. Call me brain dead. Or maybe my heart has moved...buried it.)

14. Favorite brand of clothing? Umm...do I get brands? Macy's or Target, I guess.

15. Where would you retire to? Indianapolis...I haven't looked that far into the future. I could see myself spending time on a beach or in the mountains, but right now, I like it here.

16. What was your most recent memorable birthday? I think all of my birthdays are memorable, but I think my favorite one in recent memory was when Adri planned the evening and we went to the Artcraft for the first time and saw Goonies.

17. Favorite sport to watch? Colts football. Live? IU basketball in Assembly Hall

18. Furthest place you are sending this? Uhhh...one foot in front of your face, I presume.

19. Person you expect to send it back first? My guesses for that sent it to me, so I am going to say no one.

21. When is your birthday? September 16

22. Are you a morning person or a night person? Night, absolutely.

23. What is your shoe size? 10

24. Pets? Someday...unless my future husband (obviously, he exists) is allergic or something. If not, I will have a Siberian Huskie.

25. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with us? We are one step (or fourteen depending on how you look at it) away from putting together a Walk-a-Thon for Invisible Children that stretches 9.5 miles from Perry to the Circle. Permit pending!

26. What did you want to be when you were little? A teacher. There was a brief moment when I wanted to be an astronomer, but that was before I realized that astronomers had more to do with math than just getting to look at the stars for a living.

27. How are you today? Tired.

28. What is your favorite candy? Sour Patch Straws and Take Fives

29. What is your favorite flower? Why is this such a tough question? I love flowers, but I don't really like carnations. There.

30. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to? Hmm...July 23rd--FINISHED WITH GRAD SCHOOL (if I get it all finished). April 12--Hopeful day of the Walk-a-Thon. March something or other--Purity Retreat.

32. What is your full name? I like how this question is #32. Did the writer of this survey think I would have forgotten by now? Or maybe it is for your benefit. Reader: Hmm...I have been reading for so long, I don't know who wrote this. AHH! #32 helped me out!" Jacquelyn Ashley Sheehan

33. What are you listening to right now? The sound of QVC playing in the living room (my mama and Nana LOVE that stuff) and the tapping of the keyboard

34. What was the last thing you ate? Sherbet for dessert

35. Do you wish on stars? Nah.

36. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Midnight blue

37. How is the weather right now? Stormy but calmer than it was thirty minutes ago

38. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Dana

39. Favorite soft drink? Oh, the glories of Cherry Coke

40. Favorite restaurant? This too is difficult for me. Umm...Max and Erma's, Texas Roadhouse, Qdoba, and Ivanhoes

41. Hair color? Dark blonde with light highlights

42. What was your favorite toy as a child? Cabbage Patch Dolls or Barbies or Skip-It

43. Summer or winter? Depends...summer for the most part, but I would really rather Spring and Fall over both.

44. Hugs or kisses? Hugs, I guess.

45. Chocolate or Vanilla? Vanilla

46. Coffee or tea? Coffee products? Coffee. Green Tea? Tea.

47. Do you want your friends to email you back? What kind of question is this? No, I LOVE it when I email people and they leave me hanging. LOVE IT.

48. When was the last time you cried? Last night...emotional TV moment. (I am ridiculous.)

49. What is under your bed? I am guessing a lot of dust and my sleeping bag. Oh wait, my sleeping bag is usually under my bed, but right now, it is in my car. So, dust and one of my duffel bags.

50. What did you do last night? HAHAHAHA. I watched a lot of Lost.

51. What are you afraid of? Not being needed or useful or respected or understood...and yes, not being wanted.

52. Salty or sweet? Both? Salty

53. How many keys on your key ring? 5

54. How many years at your current job? This is my SIXTH year. Woh.

55. Favorite day of the week? The answer to this question used to be Thursday, without a doubt, but I will say Saturday now.

56. How many towns have you lived in? Olympia, Sewickley, Indianapolis, Bloomington, Morris Fork (temporary homestead...)--4.5

57. Do you make friends easily? I make acquaintances easily. Friends take time.

58. How many people will you send this too? Anyone who reads it?

59. How many will respond? Probably no one.

What happened to questions 20 and 31?

I am adding a few because I am curious.

Favorite:
60. Movie--Dead Poet's Society (among a hundred others)
61. Book--To Kill a Mockingbird
62. Unexpected surprise: I have a lot of these. I think my favorite right now would have to be Dana ending up as part of our group of friends or Sarah and Drew's Christmas present to me.

Top 5 Moments of your Life
63-67. (This will be another blog. I don't have any brain power left.)

There, I am finished.

The Others really don't matter.

Survivor.
The Sixth Sense
Harry Potter.
The Superbowl.
Lost.

What do these things have in common? They are, among thousands of other addictions I have had in my life, the focus of a truth I just realized. I should have known it sooner, but it honestly just dawned on me.

I like stories.

I am not just talking about those that people tell. I am simply stating a fact that I like the idea of story. Yes, I love books. I love movies. I love television. I love talking with people. I love reading the newspaper, especially the Features. (Depending on the newspaper, of course.) I love a good story. I think that it is a God-given love; maybe in some ways, we all yearn to be connected, to tell our tale, to share in the lore of others. Maybe because we are a part of God's great story, we desire stories too.

I also have a slightly addictive personality.

I am not talking about drugs and alcohol here, but I am not sure if my addictions aren't just as dangerous. You see, I like stories so much that sometimes, I immerse myself completely within them. I get intrigued. I get sidetracked. I tell others about the story that has captured me. What captures me? The human conflict. The quest for answers. A mystery to figure out. Brilliance. Passion.

And so, I frantically planned my schedule around Thursday night television during college because I had discovered this intrigue of excitement and psychology: strangers put together in a remote area to live and compete. People laughed; I found it incredibly interesting. And so, I watch a thousand movies and always try to figure out what is going to happen. I speak my thoughts out loud so that people know I figured it out. How annoying, eh? And when a movie actually surprises me? Well, everyone must watch it for its brilliance. I start reading a book series that leaves the reader hanging on just what turn will come next. I spend time discussing its twists and trying to get in front of the mind that created a story that changed the world, in the old-fashioned kind of way: words. Or, I glue myself to the pages of ESPN reading countless articles about the men behind the team. Hoping that we have put our collective spirit behind people worth admiring. Finally, I give in once again to something I knew I wouldn't be able to escape. I sit in amazement for hours on end trying to figure out the story of the people who have created such a story.

And, that brings me to today.

You see, I started watching Lost this past summer, after a few years of ignoring all the people who told me I would love it. I know myself, I said. I will get addicted. I know I will love it. But, I gave in. Just like I did with Survivor. And with Harry Potter. I guess I really don't know myself all that well to assume that I will be able to withstand the intrigue of one more great story. I crammed two seasons in last summer, and I held off on the third. Two weeks ago, I started that. Moments ago, I finished episode 16. As the show came to a close, I was utterly AMAZED again at how brilliant it is. Personally, I think it is one of the most interesting stories ever told.

But when I took out the DVD, knowing I didn't have any more to watch today, something hit me like a ton of bricks.

Every season of Survivor (and every other show) ends; in some ways, they all end up looking the same.
JK Rowling has closed the book on Harry.
Movies aren't as special when you don't allow yourself to be surprised.
The glory of the Superbowl fades, and the next year, you might not make it back.
And, when all is said and done, there will be nothing left to figure out about the island and The Others.

These things that I invest my mind and heart into are only temporary. Do they deserve the attention they receive? I can say they don't really matter to me, but they certainly have gotten a lot of my time and energy and excitement and thoughts.

Those stories, the ones that are created by man, always come to an end, and eventually, we wait for another one to come along and carry us through more twists and turns and self-ignited excitement. There is nothing wrong with entertainment. Creativity is a gift from God. But, I don't think He wants me to push Him aside to get to everything else so easily. All those fake stories...everything else...ends.

My story continues though. So does yours.
Maybe the Author of Life would rather me give more of my heart to the Greatest Story of All.

Sadly, it is easier said than done.

So, since it is the day of a wedding, it is only appropriate that I throw out my "normal" post about marriage/change/love/etc. I am not sad today, so that should make you feel better from the start.

The girls went and saw 27 Dresses last night. We were in a packed theater...women of all ages and maybe five men, who were obviously forced to come by said women. No offense, guys, but it doesn't get any more Chick Flick than this, even if it is funny. We thought we would be a little cliche ourselves, as proven by the fact that we went and saw a movie all about weddings the night before Amanda and Nick tie the knot. Awww. How cute.

It was, though.

But, that's not what I want to write about, actually. On my way home and once I got home, I started thinking about this movie. I went into it fully expecting it to be cheesy, predictable, and ridiculous. I was pleasantly surprised at the humor. The reaction by people in the theater was so stinkin' hilarious though. Girls squealing in delight. A grown woman reacting by saying "I LOVE HIM," while slapping the thigh of her friend. Clapping. (That was me.) Aww's and gasps and "Oh, my goodness, he is hot." (That was me too...and MANY OTHERS.) We had a stereotypical reaction to a stereotypical movie, and when all was said and done, I am sure most in the theater walked out talking about how cute the movie was...and funny.

Have movies like this ruined our perception of love?

I know people that have the real thing. There are butterflies, and there are mistakes. There are moments where a guy does the right thing and makes everyone melt, and there are moments of pain. The REAL thing, love, that is, is so much better than the movies, but it isn't so easy. It is commitment, trust, truth, and serving. It is from God. Yet, I wonder how many of us spend our time hoping for the surface type of love that we clap for in the movies. We keep waiting for the beautiful guy to come in and miraculously fall in love with our charm. We keep waiting for him to say the right thing, as if he were working from a script. We wait for the flowers, the duet in the bar, the feeling to be just right, the good girl to win...always. We wait. for. fiction. to. become. reality. Even if we don't admit it, we do it.

Poor guys.
Poor girls.

The storybook ending rarely happens. Neither does the beginning.
Sex has consequences. HUGE consequences. (And, I am not talking about babies or STDs alone.)
People don't always choose what is right.
Guys' eyes are rarely that blue.
Sometimes, there is no knight and shining armor who even cares.


We are made to love. Tis true.
But, maybe our definition of what love is shouldn't come from Hollywood.

It is a dangerous place to invest your dreams.

Ummm...the Pain Tree needs to die.

So, I feel like my posts have gotten increasingly whiny, decreasingly funny, and far less thought-provoking. I want to say something real, rather than just moan and groan. I want to observe and write, but I find myself just sitting and staring and moping.

Shouldn't I have something important to say?
Before I launch into another "wwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh" post, I will just send my apologies to my three faithful readers for being so Pain Tree-esque. Of my three faithful readers, maybe only one of you knows what I am talking about, but the metaphor works.

My voice shall rise again.

Dying to Run

When things are tough, do you ever wonder if they are actually tough or if you are just a wimp? Do you ever wonder if you just feel badly for yourself? What if you think you are deserving of something you are not? Considering the fact that we really deserve nothing, aren't all hard times a mere reflection of our selfishness? We are uncomfortable; therefore, we are unhappy.

That might be the truth. It might be the root.
But, it doesn't make the hard times any easier.
It just makes me want to run away even more.

Grin again gang...

When people ask me a question, I always find it hard to decide whether I should just "give them what they want," which means saying niceties that they don't really have to respond to, or telling them the truth. Today, I tried out the truth, and it was really funny.

Kind Student or Teacher: How was your break?

Me: Terrible.

KSoT: Strange facial expression without words to respond.

Me: I thought I would go honest.

KSoT: (Relieved that I broke the tension and made a joke) Oh okay. Sorry.

You see, most of time, don't we just expect people to say "fine" or "good," no matter what the break was like? We can then respond in like when they ask us back and move on our merry way. I find a hard time not telling the truth. But, I also don't like making people feel uncomfortable. It was a tough call. I went for honest, and you know what?

It made me laugh.

Today, no matter how terrible the last few weeks have been, was a great day.