The Last Thing I Need to Be Doing Right Now...

I was reading before falling asleep last night. (It is LOVELY to be able to do that, but now I have my schedule all nice and ruined before heading back to school.) I started thinking about the past year because that is what one is supposed to do on New Year's Eve Eve, I guess. I tried to think about the best moments, those that stand out to me out of the 525,600 (start singing it, please) moments that I have lived this year. That is actually kinda hard to do. Maybe it's just me, but I feel like I shaft the little spots of gold that were too unplanned for a camera. I wracked my brain, and most of the unexpected gems have surely faded away. However, this year has been ... fast. Too fast. When you live at a pace that tries to fill the day with constant responsibilities, time moves so quickly. Maybe I feel like I am constantly chasing it rather than relishing it. Will I always feel like that?

I digress.

So, (my favorite transition) I went to sleep, hit snooze for two hours this morning, and started thinking about listing the best of 2010. I like lists. In some ways, it makes me sad because my life away from school seems pretty bleak according to this list. In some ways, I can't help but be thankful again today for having a job that provides so many blessings. This list is in no particular order. The New Orleans trip, if given an option, would dominate a Top Ten Moments list. It was, hands down, the highlight of my year. I continue to think about it often, and I am thankful that I am permitted to plan countless reunions. So, I tried to limit New Orleans' moments on the list, but you will still see a lot. :)

Here's to you, 2010. (Oh my, this got really long. Surprise.)

1. "What haste looks through his eyes. So should he look that seems to speak things strange." (I did that from memory, boys!) Macbeth is not my favorite play, but being in a play with students and colleagues and an awesome directorial duo was really special to me. (And I loved eating chicken around that fire.)

2. CWC jr. If I have to pick a moment, which I guess I didn't do with Macbeth, it would be the first time Ian read to everyone or open mic night. Yes, open mic night it is. I was so tired. It was the night of the walk-a-thon. The day before had been the frisbee tournament. Parents would be there. The kids were INCREDIBLE, playing the crowd like trained comedians. I sat and ate my delicious chicken salad sandwich and cookies and watched and learned.

Oh geesh. I am doing that thing where I write a paragraph...I need to stop.

3. Sheehanigans TOOK OFF. This also caused a lot of stress and terrible back problems, but it has truly been a blessing for me and something to look forward to in the future.

4. Spending most Friday nights with my mom. We have grown so close, and there is so much comfort in going to her house each Friday night, putting on my PJs, sitting in the recliner and watching television. (And falling asleep at 9:32.)

5. Watching Nick when he spotted Kaitlyn for the first time at Morris Fork when she came to visit. That hug was so genuine. It was so beautiful.


6. So, the entire Academic Banquet was wonderful. But maybe a highlight would have to be when Alex told everyone that I was his Lady Gaga, well, his and many others'.

7. Have you ever seen Jeff Gutzwiller dance? Line dance? H-I-G-H-L-I-G-H-T.

8. It takes a long time to finish the literary magazine, even when you think it is almost finished. When that moment comes, add six hours of work to what you think will be one. However, in the midst of that, you have these ridiculous bouts of crazy. Thus, I present you with moment #8: the Doodle paragraph in the back of Chicken Pox. I think Aamena cried from laughing. (We know it's not that funny.)

9. Have you ever heard Daniel Schoch sing? What about sing to songs like "Push It"? Hmmm...our van heard that on the way home from New Orleans. It was priceless.

10. I always love Mini-O, but 2010 was something incredible. My top moment? Either seeing Funiture completely assembled or walking back to my classroom as all-out chaos was booming in by the main stairwell. I. Loved. It.

11. I tried to be like Jay Newlin last summer. I tried to host my own Backyard Games. It might not have been quite as successful as his, but watching my incredible colleagues play the Oreo game was something to be remembered. (Sidenote: Being a 3-peat champion at Jay's backyard games was also pretty incredible.)

Oops. Font change.

12.The past two Homecomings have been spectacular. But my highlight of Homecoming 2010 has to be the passing periods on Thursday (reflecting a bigger moment). When classrooms would empty, it was this crazy rainbow filling up the hallways. I believe the number was 1586, give or take a few. That is how many students participated on the class competition dress-up day. And thus, tradition is being born.

13. When we decided to do the Minute to Win It challenge, I didn’t want to throw up numbers. I never do. I didn’t want to give people a false expectation of what success would be. But you have to give a goal. You have to make it real. I don’t actually know how many students and staff members we have. I estimated at 2500. When Zoe read that we raised over $3,000, well, I screamed and danced, and I could spend quite a bit of time explaining why, but I will save that for another post.

14.Going along with that, let’s talk about the last day of the semester. Hunter and I (as per usual) still had a lot of papers to grade. I was supposed to leave at 3pm. That didn’t happen. I also realized that it would be possible for us to raise $20,000. The day before, when we were a little over $18,000, I was content. I was finished…again. And then generous people donated online. And boom, that day changed. All of a sudden, we had this unbelievable, never-would-have-dreamed-it goal in sight. And I will never know all the people who chipped in at the end. You see, we didn’t work for that last $1500. We were given a gift by teachers and community members and students and parents and alumni. Maybe even strangers. And, as the night wore on, and Hunter and I got crazier and crazier, the total rolled over $20,000. Incredible.

15. My niece and nephews are awesome. I love them all, but one highlight of this past year was getting to know Casey, my niece, a little better. She is fiery and loving, and I can’t wait to see who she becomes. She rocks stripes and polka dots like nobody’s business as well.

16. Another highlight has to do with the fact that my family will be going to Europe together this summer. I know it hasn’t happened yet, but the decision was made in 2010. It is a huge investment, and it stresses me out, but I know it will be simply wonderful.

17. I have a lot of great memories with Aubry and Carly (we spend a lot of time together), but I REALLY loved the night we did the "It Happened One Saturday Night" story. Read and see it here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=199517&id=503268952 (I wonder if that link will work.)

18. Oops, I tried to spread out the New Orleans moments, and now I am getting near the end and have a few left. The lying game. If you were there, you understand. "She was acting up."

19. The dedication. That was SO SPECIAL for me. I hope for everyone. But I didn't really want it to be about us.

20. CWC: Senior Year was a part of Chicken Pox that is priceless to me. I hope it wasn't completely self-serving. But I don't really think that many people would or could realize how special those words were (and will always be) to me.

21. There were a few moments from Halloween that I loved, but strangely, this might be my favorite.

22. Hearing Richard (and Jimmy) speak to us during the Face-to-Face tour was priceless. His words will continue to resonate in my heart for a LONG time to come. Hopefully, his words will be heard again in Uganda this summer or maybe in San Diego.

23. I think this will be the last one. I will come back with more, I am sure. (And no one will read them but me, and that's okay.) We did some "unpleasant" jobs on the work site in New Orleans. I am not sure if anything in the sun could be pleasant in late July in New Orleans, but there were just a few jobs that caused a tremendous amount of frustration. But, strangely enough, these jobs also caused so much pride. The teams that worked on them wore their badge of honor. They united and laughed behind the frustration. People screamed and possibly wanted to throw hammers, but still, they kept going. Pounding aluminum nails into the house was miserable. MISERABLE. I swear Kacie and Elly almost cried. I don't know how Alex and Corey did it for SO LONG. I just didn't understand. And then we got a new box. These were steel. (Or something way stronger than aluminum if I am wrong.) And HIT. HIT. HIT. DONE. HIT. HIT. HIT. DONE. Sometimes, maybe more than we acknowledge, the little victories taste the sweetest. High on those ladders, sweating buckets, feeling like a failure in every way possible, I was handed the greatest gift of my year: nails. It was (and still is) bigger than the nails, but like I said, maybe another time.

Go ahead and re-live your moments. It takes a bit of the blur away from time. You get some back.

Happy New Year.

Not a Finga!

There is something special about this time of year, don't you think? There are all sorts of brushes to paint December with, but regardless of how far away I get from the magic of childhood, it seems that nostalgia attached to Christmas movies cannot be thwarted.

And so I present to you a complete waste of my precious grading time, otherwise known as:

Jacqui's Top 24 Christmas Movies...
I will save Christmas Day for you and your families, okay?
(I could have put twenty-five, but I felt like I was putting movies on there that don't deserve it just to fill the spots...I took this kinda seriously...)

I understand that this list will create violent reactions (from the three people who read it) because I failed to mention The Nightmare Before Christmas (I've never seen it!) or because Christmas Vacation is so low (I care about the others so much more...). You won't like that The Holiday is on there, I know. I understand that my undying love for certain movies is not because they are well-made or dazzling or funny; I just know that at some point in my life, these have become cherished gems that I look forward to seeing. There are some that I WILL NOT miss seeing each year and some that have since faded away, but maybe this year, I will bake some cookies, boil some water for hot chocolate, and take a trip down Holiday Lane. And if there is a movie (save the the bottom few) that you haven't seen, please do the same, will you?

24. Polar Express--I did not like this movie. I LOVE this book. Since graduating from college, it is one of my greatest joys to read this book to my friends while drinking hot chocolate and sitting around my newly decorated Christmas tree. Seriously. It only made it on the list because of the book; the movie was a grave disappointment.


23. The Christmas Shoes--Okay. It was in a moment of emotional delusion that I watched this movie in Morris Fork. Yeah. I cried. It was so sappy sweet, but it was so sappy sweet...do you get me?


22. Very Brady Christmas--You know you got a little nervous when Mike got caught in that building. YOU KNOW IT.

21. Claymation Christmas--This might be higher on the list, but I haven't seen it since elementary school. Where has it gone?


20. Twas the Night Before Christmas--Same with this one...I am pretty sure I loved it though.


19. Holiday Inn--I didn't see it until last year. It can't be any higher, you know? (I will blow that theory with White Christmas, but whatever.)


18. Mickey's Christmas Carol--At this point, I started shaving away parts of my heart because I pretty much love every movie on this list from now on...


17. A Very Merry Cricket--No one understands why I love this so much. When that little cricket quiets Times Square with his beautiful wing music...geesh, I swoon.



16. The Holiday--What can I say? I am a sucker for Jack Black in a romantic comedy. "Well, hello, big dollop."



15. The Family Stone--I LOVE this movie. I hesitated putting it on the list, but it is a beautiful (and hilarious) story about family. Around Christmas.


14. Frosty the Snowman--Well, "Happy Birthday!"


13. The Grinch--Yes, the cartoon is better than the real re-make. No questions asked.


12. The Santa Clause--Why did they have to make more? The first one was actually pretty great. Don't laugh at me.


11. White Christmas--I just saw it two years ago. I love it. I wish I had a lifetime of watching it to make it mean even more.


10. It's a Wonderful Life--The purists will say this deserves a higher seed. I went with my OWN ideas, okay?


9. Miracle on 34th Street--I love the original. I love the remake. (When does that even happen?)


8. Christmas Vacation--Amazingly quotable? Yes. Hilarious? Yes. A part of our shared culture? Yes. Kills me because of the destruction of the house every time? Yes...like, it hurts me to watch it.


7. Rudolph--Rudolph's voice alone says "It's Christmas." Picture him saying it: "I'm coming, Santa!"


6. Home Alone--This is the only movie I ever saw with my entire family in the theater. My sister packed microwave popcorn bags (pre-popped) into her over-sized coat. My dad cried because he laughed so hard.


5. Elf--Sarah Lantz stood up and clapped when this movie ended. I joined her. Talk about an instant classic. That is very hard to do.



4. Garfield's Christmas--I don't care what you think, I simply adore it. ADORE IT.


3. Charlie Brown's Christmas--One of my students told me today that her family watches this every year, and she hates it. A little part of me died inside. Linus' speech about the "Babe in the manger" brings it all together. "Lights, please."


2. This was so difficult...but I decided that Muppet's Christmas Carol lands here. Words cannot express how much I love this movie. It is magical in every way...except for the Ghost of Christmas Past; she is terrifying.


1. A Christmas Story--It wasn't going to be here at first, but I had to think about how many memories and joyful events revolve around this movie. I have watched it with family and friends so many times, and only in my older years did I learn to value the magnificent voice of the narration (not just his voice...the words) and the real magic it holds right beneath so much hilarity.



And there you have it, folks. What do you think? Let me know!
PS. I dare you to try it. A top ten was so painful.

Letter 8--Hi, you don't know me, but...

So, I am doing this challenge on my own time. I figured no one will really mind.

Today's letter is supposed to be to my favorite Internet friend. Does this imply that I am supposed to have friends who are only known to me because of the Internet? I don't think I have those. Should I pick the person who makes me laugh the most on the Internet? The person who has a blog I check each day? The person I stalk the most on Facebook? (Don't tell me you don't have those people.) Well, I can't pick a favorite, so I will take a different route. (Surprise.)

I wonder if Facebook has ruined me permanently.

During last Spring, when I was uber-busy, I realized that my only communication with the outside world once I left school was Facebook. I didn't see my friends, I didn't talk to my friends, but I would see what they were doing on Facebook. As sorry as this sounds, there was a period of time when Facebook was my social life.

Even now, when I am not nearly as busy, I know I hunger for real fellowship and camaraderie in my life because Facebook just doesn't cut it. When I got home from my trip, I was so depressed that I would hope for photo comments to make it seem like real conversation was happening. This sounds so pathetic, but it is true.

Would I be an absolute hermit if Facebook didn't exist? OR, would my relationships be more meaningful because I would have to try harder, rather than relying on simple status updates or pictures to make me think I know what is going on in people's lives? I am not sure I know the answer.

I do know that I spend too much time on Facebook, but it really is useful. And I love witty people. And I love the ease of communication for clubs and such. And I love keeping in touch with people who aren't here right now. I love all of that. I wonder if the fad will end. I wonder what will take its place, what major life-changing web page will happen next. I keep waiting to see when it will no longer be useful, when it is old hat. (I held onto my xanga for a lot longer than most people...) I don't know. Huge societal changes fascinate me. The world will never be the same. I will never be the same. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it is true.

I just don't know if I am better.

Letter 7--I know why it took me so long.

Hey, online world.

I decided to return tonight.

I left off at Letter #7. This one is supposed to be to an ex-boyfriend/crush/love. I shudder at the thought.

Dear __________________,

I wrote poems about you, to you. I kinda laugh at myself now when I stumble upon all of the musings in old journals about you. You are not just one person. Technically, you could be, but no, my heart was broken many times. I was told I loved too much, too readily, too easily. I was told I played all the wrong games, set myself up for disappointment. Maybe so. I hate those kinds of games. Still do.

You taught me that I am intrigued and intimidated by shyness. I always fall for guys who are tall, intelligent, and competitive. I deeply desire to be with someone I can trust, someone who knows me, someone I know. I love when you make me laugh. You taught me to be careful, to stop assuming that little things mean big things. You taught me to quit wishing for signs that were not there. You taught me never to take the first step, for fear of losing everything. You taught me what it feels like to be discarded. You taught me what it means to be a friend.

I hold no anger, really. I just sobered up, stopped dancing in the daze of hope.

And I have you to thank for that.

EDIT: Holy muffin-top, Batman. Upon second read, that sounded like the biggest bowl of angsty fifteen-year-old soup I have ever consumed.

I'm coming back, I promise.

I know I said I would be back after the trip, but just give me a few more days.

(As if anyone cares. I just feel less guilty this way.)

It was at school, but it wasn't really at school.

Ooops, I accidentally wrote a letter to a stranger before I wrote a letter to my dreams. How dare I, really? I wonder if I am supposed to write a letter to my dreams (my hopes and aspirations) or to my dreams (those things that happen while I sleep). I am not feeling too serious, so I will go ahead and write a letter to my nocturnal musings. Really...I am skirting the issue...I will write a post about dreams.

There was a short period of time when I wanted to be one of those people who interprets dreams. I was fascinated by them. Then, there was this old guy, Robert, who had some connection (I have no idea what) to my dorm in college. He would show up from time to time, wearing his big, black shoes and his too-thin tie, and this man could spin a tale about dreams that I had never witnessed before. He had books and history and psychology mumbo-jumbo attached to all of his analysis. I thought he was just a little bit crazy, but I loved him. I don't remember the names of most of the people on my floor in college, but I remember Robert, the dream-chaser.

I hate how dreams drift away. The details become fuzzy, and unless you have someone to share them with almost immediately, they inevitably disappear, if you remembered them in the first place. I have always wondered how much dreams mean. Like, why do some seem so real? Why do some seem so deranged? Why do some repeat themselves? Why do the visuals often not match up to the presumed reality of the characters? Why am I in the dream sometimes and watching myself sometimes? Color? Black and white? People I know? People I have never seen? It's all a little wacky, really.

I remember a vivid dream I had in elementary school. I was re-telling it to a friend, and right after I got to the part where the person (another friend) apologized for being cruel in the dream, the other friend came up and apologized for being cruel in real life. I almost wet my pants.

Speaking of wetting my pants, I remember one time (in...seventh grade...), I dreamed about a new holiday: National Pee Day. And everyone had the freedom to pee wherever they wanted all day long. I woke up to a pee-soaked bed.

I remember I used to dream about driving a car (before I drove cars) that got larger and larger as the dream progressed. And it would drive on the walls (yes, walls) of the interstate, and I couldn't see anything. It was terrifying. I had this dream a lot.

I remember I dreamed that I screamed at my students because they wouldn't stop laughing at me. I was trying to teach class, and they just laughed and laughed. I was incensed. Like, rip your hair out, total loss of control. Really, it was just my alarm clock that was set with a laughing ringtone. (A similar situation has happened on MANY occasions...almost always dealing with students...isn't that weird? It is as if they are trying to get me to wake up or something.)

There are more, but I will stop.

I definitely think there are aspects of life that we will never understand, maybe we aren't meant to understand. Deja vu (no idea how to spell and punctuate that correctly), middle school, the grief process, people's capacity for evil, dreams, etc. It seems impossible that symbols mean the same thing in one person's dream as another. I just can't believe that our sub-consciences work out issues with the same symbolism and imagery. Maybe our dreams are a chance for our brains to imagine without our self-editing tools kicking in. I wonder if the dreams of children are less vivid because their imaginations are turned on so much more during waking hours. Who knows? I don't think about this often, but I was told to write a letter to my dreams.

Love Always,
Jacqui

PS. Hopes and dreams, umm...I want a room wallpapered with postcards. I want to go to Africa and Greece. I want to build/have/make a photography studio and learn how to take pictures better. Ehhh, I want so much. Namely, right now, I want fair food, so I will be driving to Lafayette and enjoying pulled pork, corn on the cob, and a funnel cake tonight.

The Stranger on the Street

I am not really a fan of this assignment.

I am supposed to write a letter to a stranger.

Ugh. I have to have more direction than that, so I will create it.

To the stranger I will meet in New Orleans,

I hope I talk to you, take advantage of meeting someone with a lifetime of different experiences than me. I hope I can be an encouragement to you, the hands and feet of Jesus, while I work on building a house. I hope your week is brightened by our team's presence, a lift at just the right time. I hope I see your story rather than judge your appearance. I hope you play music and create memories for my kids. I hope you will be given an ear, someone who wants to hear what you have to say. I hope I can be patient if you change plans on me.

But, really, I just hope I see you. Really see you, even if just for a moment.

We are Family.

Hello, world.

Letter 3 is supposed to be to my parents. Letter 4 is supposed to be to my siblings. I am just going to smash them together into one gigantic letter to the family. Because my family did not request that I write them letters that anyone can read, I will choose to keep these short and simple, not too personal.

Dear Mama,

Thanks for letting me be who I wanted to be, rather than a manufactured version of yourself. It is hard to imagine life with different parents or a different family, but I took for granted how independent you always let me be (and it might now be bothering you, actually). You have allowed me to make mistakes and make my own choices, and I honestly think I can handle pretty much anything because you have always told me I could. Thank you for your unwavering compassion on all living creatures and your bravery to walk down new roads even late in life. Thank you for watching movies and television with me, for loving me through your frustration with me, and for always providing a home for us.

Dear Dad,

Goodness knows we aren't that close, but there are things about you that I admire. I assume that I got my thirst for knowledge from you, and I love how much you know about history and the world. Thanks for always taking me on rollercoasters when I was a kid; those times at Kennywood are some of my dearest childhood memories. Thank you for not taking things (especially yourself) too seriously. Thank you for your work ethic. Thank you for your unique and heartfelt Christmas presents and your generosity to me. Thanks for naming me Bunk.

Dear Tara,

I am so glad you are going to New Orleans with me. I am so excited for you to enter into my world, to see what it's like from my point of view. I hope you love it; I hope you love my kids. Tara, of anyone I know, I think I watched you change so much as you have gotten older. That is something rare in a person, and I truly respect how you have embraced and chosen your life. I have watched motherhood soften your personality, but I love that you have a fire that won't go out. I am amazed that college you existed when I see how amazing your home is now. I can handle the fact that you are pathologically crazy when it comes to cleaning and "purging," especially when I reap the benefits. :) Your self-discipline astounds me, and yes, although I would never want to work hard enough to get there, I am jealous of your mad marathon-ing skills.

Dear Greg,

I know that my distance has hurt you the most. I am sorry for that. I have always looked up to you, even during your awkward junior high phase, and I must have gained at least a piece of my competitive nature from you. Nearly every reminiscence about childhood begins while dancing on your toes, and now, I love to see you raising two wonderful children, providing so much for your family. You are a go-getter, which I admire, but you haven't lost your humanity, which is utterly important. I wish you would slow down once in a while, let go of your phone for a few minutes, allow yourself not to be defined by your work, but I know you will eventually slow down. I love your sense of humor and your loyalty to sports teams. I hope we do grow closer.

Hey family,
I can't wait to travel the world with you next summer. Sincerely, I simply cannot wait.

Ooops.

I am already going to be late. Watch for letter 3 and 4 tomorrow.

Someday, you will be loved.

So, letter #2 is supposed to be written to "my crush." Hmph. This could be funny.

Dear ____________________,

I don't have a crush, so you are a blank name. I don't meet many new people, don't have time to get all giddy over people anymore, don't really desire anything meaningless in my life. However, I would like to write a letter to the man I will marry. (I am fully aware of the fact that I probably won't get married, and this very well might change upon meeting someone I would actually like to marry, but this is fun, guys.)

Dear ______________________,

I am already planning the job I will have when I retire from teaching.

I tell you this because there are some things you need to know about me, and the first thing you need to know is that I will love you in the best possible way I can. The second thing is that in order for me to be able to do that, you will have to be okay with me having other passions besides you. I hope you are thankful for that. I don't want you to stand in my shadow; I want you to do the same. I hope our passions coincide, but they do not have to do so in every regard. You must love kids. You don't have to be a teacher. You must love learning. You don't have to have multiple degrees to show it. You must love service. You don't have to love Uganda. You must love parties, but you don't have to plan them. You must love beauty and art, but you don't have to take the pictures or be in the shows. You must love reading and writing, but you don't have to be a published author.

You are going to have to listen to my stories, even when you don't know the faces of the kids I tell you about. You are going to have to deal with me in April and May, when no one should have to be around me. I might even make you grade some papers. You are going to have to go to prom with me, but I promise I won't make you stay the whole time.

(Wow, this letter is actually difficult to write, especially without pre-planning.)

You are probably going to feel uncomfortable the first time you meet my friends, especially if it is with the large group. We have a lot of history together, and people have told us from time to time that we are a tough group to crack. Just ask questions. I will get you ready for them. And, you will love them too. (Or else we won't really work, so that's a deal-breaker.) And you will enjoy playing board games and corn hole and going to Holiday World. You will love outdoor movies at the IMA and cook-outs and dressing up for Halloween. You will love the Artcraft Theater and A Christmas Story and NBC Thursday nights. I can't wait until you are part of the shared history of us too.

And you will care for my mom like she's your mom (because you obviously really care for your mom). And you will give piggy back rides to our nieces and nephews and cheer for them when we travel to see sporting events. And you will love Tara's design sense and Greg's knowledge of business and sports. And you will appreciate my dad's understanding of history and his interesting array of Christmas gifts.

And you will challenge me. And you won't let me settle. And you won't let me slide by. And you will tell me when I'm wrong....and when I'm right. And you will hold my hand in unexpected moments. And you will help me love people better. You will teach me about cars and lawn care and money. Or we will at least teach each other. And it would be really awesome if you could be a self-taught carpenter or handyman. That would be SWEET. :) You will be intelligent and competitive, and maybe we can exercise together by playing games and doing fun things. You might even take ballroom dance lessons with me. I'm not pushing my luck, though.

And, most of all, you will love Jesus a lot. Not in a superficial way, but in a real...tough...messy kind of way. And, you will seek to love me as Jesus loves us, and you will be the head of our household because that's how it is supposed to be. You will appreciate my strength, though, and we will learn what it means to follow Jesus together. We will pray and worship and serve and love together. Even when it is difficult.

I can't wait to meet you.
(Well, let's be honest. On many days, I don't really think I want to meet you, but whatevs.)

Hmmm...I think I have rambled enough, even though I've only scratched the surface. I am sure my expectations are ridiculous, but why not set my sights high? Marriage will be hard enough. I might as well hope for someone amazing.

Love always,
Jacqui

Take a Bite out of Life

Okay, I am going to do it.

I know I am going to regret it, and I also know that I will probably miss a few days, but I am going to jump on the bandwagon (created by Lauren Sedam...I'm not sure how much of a bandwagon it actually is) and do the 30-Day Letter Challenge. Each day, I will post a letter written to a specific audience. Really, I am doing this for me, but if by some miracle, one of my four readers stumbles upon something encouraging, then fantastic. I don't stick with anything when it comes to writing; this is a good place to begin. I will address some letters by name, but I will keep some to myself. It will be challenging and probably too personal, and hey, I'm okay with that.

So, without further ado, (I love that phrase), let me begin with Letter #1.

Letter #1 is supposed to be written to my "best friend."

Oh geesh. Houston, we already have a problem.

Dear Best Friend,

When I was young, you were Lauren Bayly, without fail and without question. You have also been Bekah Manning, Adri Byrd, Nathan Epple, Nick Epple, Sean Booher, Sarah Lantz, and Aubry and Carly Faulkenberg (they go together, you know). And there were moments of best friendship with others, but I don't want to get carried away here.

In elementary school, naming your best friend was so important. It was a badge of honor or a badge of shame. You had to nab a best friend because no one wanted to be best friend-less. As time passed and geography changed, so did my need for friends. I wanted lots of them, was blessed with a diverse group of people who challenged me and made me laugh and made fun of me. :) There were times when I could not go to sleep without making sure I had said (or typed) "Good night" to my best friend. There were some best friends who needed me much more than I needed them, which, in turn, made me need them. Strange how that worked. There were some best friends who seemed to understand me implicitly, and there were some who seemed to need understanding that only I could give. There were times (too many, I am afraid) when I lost my best friend. Most of them, in fact, are gone, at least from my direct and close acquaintance. And so, maybe I decided after watching my heart walk away too many times that I needn't put too much hope in a single person, until, if it is to be, I get married someday.

This way of friendship is much less painful, but I fear I do not love as deeply, know people as well, or grow as much as I did before I started teaching. I fear that although there are countless friends in my life who would do anything for me, know me through history, and yes, can still make me laugh and laugh at me, very few people truly know me, if anyone at all. Then again, what does that even mean?

I am thankful for you, best friends, who watch movies and laugh about farting and go line-dancing. I am thankful for you, best friends, who plan trips to Holiday World and the IMA and Memorial Day Cookouts. I am thankful for you, best friends, who gave me a foundation, a home away from home, a more full understanding of human beings. I am thankful for you, best friends, who broke my heart but in the process taught me more and more about love. I am thankful to you, best friends, who watch Colts Games and Thursday night television with me. I am thankful to you, best friends, who care deeply about your relationship with God (and mine) and are constantly seeking growth and understanding. I am thankful to you, best friends, who love food and frisbee and puppies.

Friendship is a clever beast. It is vitally important for a full life, yet it is constantly changing and can easily become a complete stranger without our even realizing it walked away. I desire to learn how to be a better friend again, but that, as they say, is easier said than done.

Love always,
Jacqui

Eat the Cookie

I just ate a bunch of cold, plain rice. With a spoon. Out of a giant Tupperware bowl.

Delicious.




(Oh wait. This was meaningless. I was going to try to write meaningful stuff, but I already changed my status three times within the last two hours; I just could not do that again.)

Welcome Back.

Okay.

It is July 12th. (I think?) I'm gonna start writing again.

I always talk about the fact that I don't write. Or that I don't write well. I always think about what I would write if I did write, but then, I don't. I am afraid that some internet virus will respond to me, but no one will really listen.

And then I have to admit to myself that I really love having an audience.

Too much.

So, maybe I shouldn't talk about writing. Maybe I should just write. Maybe I shouldn't worry about my audience (even though I can't stop doing that). Maybe I shouldn't worry about sounding eloquent or witty or inspiring (even though I won't stop that either).

Being a hermit is really easy for me.

Like...I have no trouble at all staying up until 3am, sleeping until noon, staying in my pjs until 4, taking a shower at 5, cooking some dinner, watching tv intermittently throughout the day, and then doing the same routine again. I have to plan parties in order to avoid making this a permanent routine. Parties require shopping, cooking, and cleaning. Otherwise, I might as well be called Boo Radley.

I really love taking people's portraits.

Like...really love it. The problem is that I hate that I am technically deficient, and I don't know how to get better, save throwing more and more money at better equipment. I want to take classes. I want to take pictures like this:



Do you see how vibrant that color is? DO YOU SEE THAT?

Or this:


See how that black is black, and that white is white? See how beautifully the shot is composed?

I want that.

Hmmm...onto other stuff, I guess.

I am scared of the upcoming school year. Scared.

Like...when I think about it, I get a rotten feeling in my gut. What am I scared about?

Well, I am scared that I will hate the new format of each day. I am scared that I won't have the ability to stay on track and focused and disciplined. I am scared I will spend the entire year playing catch-up. I am scared that a part of my heart will be gone. I have had that feeling before, but it is different this time. I am scared that in only my ninth year, I am somehow getting burned out. I am scared that I will forget to love people again. I am scared that I will be overwhelmed. I could go on.

I mean, it isn't like I won't be able to handle it. I don't want to just handle my life, though. I want to love it. I need to have the attitude that it will be an adventure worth taking, a fitting change of pace since so many faces will be missing from my daily regime. I want to lead by service, by love, by joy, by passion, and I want, somehow, to know that I have challenged my students to be better students, better thinkers, better readers, better writers, and better human beings. I want to be exhausted. I want to get better. To be better.

But, what I really want is to be there for people, like I used to be. I want to give people attention and love who aren't easy to love. I don't want to be too busy for people anymore. I wouldn't mind if people needed me again.

I'm turning thirty in September.
Maybe that's what really scares me, for some reason.

Long Time Coming.

Ooops. I forgot to write stuff.

Stuff.

Phfew. Check that one off of my list.

Pieces of the Quilt

I used to dance on the top of my brothers toes. Twirling me around the kitchen, he would be able to avoid having to do the dishes. He always made it seem like a privilege for me to "get" to put away the silverware. That was my job--putting away the silverware.

I had a best friend from the time I was four. She lived diagonally behind me, and we met while in our respective backyards. One time, in the middle of summer, we sat on the edge of her pool, fully clothed, and splashed our way into sopping wet bursts of laughter.

My sister borrowed a dollar from me when I was very young. She never paid me back.

One time, we found a stray dog on the street going to our old pool. It was a tiny little white puppy, with a scratchy pink tongue. We cared for it for a few days and named it Woodland. (The name of the street...totally lame name.) I fell in love with that dog so fast, and it crushed me when its owners retrieved it.

For my sixth birthday, my grandmother bought me these cut-out dolls. I opened the present right after school, before my party, and for some reason, I said I "knew I wouldn't like it" when I opened it. I was immediately banished to my room and spent the rest of my birthday "grounded."

My dad built me a swing-set in our backyard. The coolest part was that one of the swings was actually a boat bumper. I would sit on it and talk my way into "pumping" high. I would convince myself that I had super powers.

I found empty bottles of alcohol hidden in an upstairs closet. My dad just couldn't break that habit; my mom just couldn't stand it any longer.

I had many Barbies when I was younger. I played with them all the time. One day, they went missing. Some clothes were left, but all of the dolls disappeared out of my playroom. That mystery has never been solved.

I threw up at Chuck E. Cheese while standing in line to get into the ball pit. The characters were all real then; they weren't robots dressed in ridiculous attire.

I collected stickers with my friend Erin when I was little. We would trade them. She lived in an actual log cabin, and I went to the symphony with her family. She also introduced me to God.

I loved the Pirates, Pittsburgh's baseball team. We got to sit in my dad's company's box seats and watch games. I didn't even know football and basketball existed.

I met Chris, one of my best friends through childhood, while playing a game with a hula hoop in kindergarten. He was brilliant. He had a computer. Mostly, we traversed through our imaginations together.

I don't know why I started typing this. I had no intentions when I sat down. I just started typing bits and pieces of my collective memory, and these are the first moments that came out. I wonder why we hold some pieces so dearly, while others vanish after a short time. As I am constantly thinking and wondering what it actually means to grow older, wondering what it means to be me, I am flabbergasted as to the transformation that must happen in every single life. How seemingly unimportant scraps of time have a profound impact on our perception of ourselves and the world. And, at the same time, it is amazing to me that I can continue to push forward, pretending that I am utterly unaffected by yesterday, only holding onto the promise of tomorrow.

The Sound of Silence

I am at my mom's house, so I have internet access for a few hours. My mind has been on full-throttle, but I have been living inside my head so much. There are no sounds from apartments, there is no television, I learn about nothing (unimportant as it may be) from anyone I know on Facebook, and I don't really talk to anyone on the phone. I have been stuck in a new place, stuck only because I am freaked out by all that isn't the way I want it to be, and I have felt pretty alone.

Yet, I don't waste hours watching television or learning nothing about people on Facebook...so, that's good, right?

All I know is that at this point in January, I have already felt the doldrums of winter settling in, and usually that doesn't happen until February. Yikes.

I have resolved to pour my heart into re-designing my classes and learning to see all of my students as children of God before I see them as failing statistics. I have resolved to be more thankful and not dwell on all that will make me uncomfortable in the coming years due to gross spending inadequacies in the state and federal budgets for education. It isn't supposed to be about me, right? Oh yea...I have also resolved to cherish the remaining months that I have with the class of 2010. Our days are numbered, and I am fighting all urges to take a year off of teaching so that I don't have to learn to be at school without them.

This was a sad post. Or boring.
Sorry.

Winter does that to me.