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.