"But it was not your fault but mine, and it was your heart on the line. I really fucked it up this time didn't I, my dear?"

09 JUN 2008

This date would have just been another birthday to my brother. Though I miss my brother dearly, this post is not about him. 

During the summer of 2008 I wrote a young man over 80 handwritten letters through the mail. About a month or two into the relationship we were forced to part for the summer. I lived north of Kansas City and he lived in the deep south of the great state of Missouri. Before we parted, I stated I would write him everyday-- since I did not know if I'd be able to speak to him over the course of the summer via the internet. It was a rough summer,  moving back into my parents' and working outside in the dreadful heat. We ended up chatting most days via the internet (since my parents had installed wi-fi, which I felt was a way to keep me from asking to use the internet incessantly, and this installment made me very pleased). 

Each night before bed I would pour my soul into these letters, despite the fact I chatted with him every day. I spent most the summer without his voice, without his smell, without his comforting arms and in writing him I felt closer. If one could read the letters, letters in which I hope the said man still has, they would see nothing shy of love and devotion. The whole circumstance was quite romantic, except for the fact I never received any letters. My parents would tell me I was foolish; that I was investing too much time in a boy that didn't feel the same. The fact that this might be true bothered me, but irregardless I had told him I would write him everyday and so I did. 

In returning back to the date above: this is the post mark of the only letter I received back from him. It brought me such happiness. I would read it frequently, and enjoy the smell of his cologne sprayed on a Kleenex. The letter was sweet, and beautiful. I treasured it dearly. (This often happens when you haven't really gotten much of anything from the object of your affections.) I still treasure this letter to this day, knowing that the words contained within it no longer ring true from its sender , but as a reminder of what it felt like to be adored and loved. 

I went to visit said gentleman around the fourth of July. It was a big deal I had gotten the holiday weekend off, since I worked at a historical site that would see a boost in visitors over the holiday. I carefully made plans and I went to see him. I couldn't take being away from him all summer. I missed all of him. In the whole internet chatting I never got to see him, hear him, smell him, etc. All my senses were lacking his presence. The trip made me exceptionally nervous. I purchased an entirely new wardrobe such that I could be seen in a positive light by his family. I enjoyed most of my trip, however his mother never seemed to care for my presence. In fact she never came to like me, a fact that would continue to break my heart. I returned from the trip nervous, as I had felt my impression had not been as good as I had hoped (though I tried very hard to make a good impression yet still be my own). 

During my return my uncle had passed away. My parents were angry with me for my lack of "feelings" for an uncle I hardly knew (along with a few other factors). Upon them leaving for the funeral I had to deal with my boyfriend, whom upon my visiting had enticed his mother to ask him serious questions about me, questions no one dating for three months would readily have the answers for. He nearly broke up with me because he wasn't sure that he wished to put in the work required to marry me, as opposed to someone who had a "peachy perfect background". The break-up wouldn't come for another nine months. 

The letter he sent me that summer was my glimmer of hope in him. A reminder of the glimmer of potential I had seen in him all along. It reminded me of the sweetness and calmness I found so alluring in him. He titled it "In Defence of My Love" (yes he did misspell that word, which is quite odd considering his usual knack for spelling). 

Many things stick out in the letter that I felt he forgot over time. 

"You are both good to and for me."

And indeed I was. I loved him dearly despite gashing flaws to his perfection. This one was particularly endearing (and again forgotten):

"In short, I see no reason not to love, adore, and be just as good as I can be to you. For you are something wonderful in my life Ms. _____."

In the end I wonder if his eloquent words were not half the reason I stayed, and the other half between God and I. 

In conclusion I really hope when he looks back, and I hope he does that he will see through the 80+ letters I wrote how much indeed I was a wonderful addition to his life. If I'm lucky, perhaps some man will come around who recognizes that I would make a wonderful addition to his life, and remember it for a long, long time. 

As for G, I leave you the title to sing. 

2011: The Year of Consequences

We are officially past the winter solstice, a fact that my poor leafy plants are greatly excited about. I sincerely hope they will deal well enough with the lack of sufficient light for just a little longer. I do dearly care for my little angels. (hehe I called my plants angels. They are indeed saint-like in their forgiveness.)

The up and coming year will require a great deal of diligence on my part. This past year has seemed rather reckless especially in the last four to five months of the year. I have been reckless in my spending, reckless in my schoolwork, and reckless in my dating life. 

Upon moving to the "birthplace of aviation", aka Ohio, I acquired a credit card for the purpose of moving to Ohio and getting settled. This was not the worst idea I had, but after I was settled, I continued to spend, and spend, and spend. At points I was spending my monthly pay from my checking account and then spending about two weeks worth of my pay every month on my credit card. This of course was disastrously stupid. I saw, I wanted, I bought. (Makes me sound like a modern Caesar...). This all has come to a peak here in December where I have reached my credit limit.

So two-thousand-and-eleven (and even parts of 2012) will be a year of the grand budget! I have worked hard on providing a suitable budget for the coming years in order to reduce my debt and live in my means (which is completely do-able). I will allot myself a certain amount for food AND additional expenditures. This may seem absolutely awful to have a food budget (and it is!) it will force me to do what I do best--plan ahead. I think it will force me to be more conscious and efficient with my funds. If I didn't have all the credit card debt imagine what I could do with the extra 300 I'm spending to pay it off each month! I greatly look forward to being debt free...but the battle is long and I must persevere and remain focused.

Now we come to the part about academics. I have just completed my first semester of graduate school. It was everything shy of disaster. Over the course of the semester I was forced to drop a course which has hit me both academically and financially (I will have to retake it in the summer for over 2k). This alone was devastating since I have never been in the position of needing to drop a course for my own academic survival. Furthermore I placed half my attention on my classes, should have studied more, and failed to pay attention in class. This resulted in a GPA lower than the required 3.0 to stay in my graduate program. Thus next semester I will be placed on academic probation. 

Academic probation is in all accounts unideal. Not only must I get good grades in the Spring of 2011, I must get good enough grades that my cumulative GPA is 3.0 or higher. I must have a 3.33 to meet the requirements. This is a B+ average at my university. My goal this coming semester will be to understand my coursework, care about my coursework, establish strong studying habits, and pursue beyond my 3.33 goal. The road will not be easy with the added complication of research. Furthermore, the course I dropped (with 2 weeks remaining) is fundamental in my research. I must fully grasp a deep understanding and application techniques of a class in which I had to drop for the lack of understanding of the subject matter.  Focus, focus, focus. I look forward to proving that I am indeed worth the assistantship that covers my schooling. 

Lastly I come to my dating life. In September, my boyfriend of over a year had broken up with me. We had spent the whole year apart, sharing our troubles and joys over the phone. With the increased pressures of grad school he cut off the relationship. Naturally I did not take this gently. I cried, I suffered from a depressed mood, and my desires to do anything subsided. Shortly after this I dated a man whom I'd say was disastrous to my finances and my schooling. Over the course of two months, I spent most my weekends beyond drunk and I did nothing over the weekends toward school. E and I would go out to eat, where I'd find myself in the predicament of paying or going dutch (about 75 percent of the time). Doing this several times a week, along with buying liquor drinks at bars was costly and half ruined my finances. In a nutshell, I was everything I didn't want to be. 

Currently I enjoy the companionship of a homebody. An individual who is cautious and wise. I greatly appreciate his insight, his suggestions, and advice. Despite my love of alcohol, I have been sober for several weeks without it thus far. At this point it is an unnecessary expense and does not help me pursue my academic goals. Maybe I'll have a glass of wine every now and then. :-) Furthermore, I am back to working on friendships (which can cost money...yet again *sigh* but these are much better). 

Thus as one can see, reckless behavior has consequences. If the recklessness is discovered and fully realized it is possible to recover from such. As Henry Ford once said, "Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently." I could not agree more. 

Thus 2011 will be not only a year of consequences, but a year of intelligence. 

Happy New Year everyone. 

"A man without a wife is like a vase without flowers." ~African Proverb

With the many engagements I have been surrounded by, and the many up and coming weddings I decided to look up some quotes about marriage. 


These quotes really made me think. First the one in the title-- "A man without a wife is like a vase without flowers" or put another way-- "A woman without a husband is like flowers without a vase". Either case I think we begin to see a few things. First, men are useful on their own. They don't need wives persay but having one makes a world of difference. Women are beautiful in their own right as well. However, bringing the two together completes the whole ensemble. 


"Don't marry the person you think you can live with; marry only the individual you think you can't live without."  ~James C. Dobson



This quote really hit me. Often I find myself going through the whole dating thing with the idea: "Can I picture myself living with this person for 50 years?". Often this is a daunting question and usually the answer is no or maybe. 


The idea of not being able to live without someone in my life makes some sense, but in all honesty the thought is absolutely terrifying. What if they die? What if they don't feel the same? So many doubts hit me in the consideration of searching for someone I have lived 22 years of my life without. What makes them so special?


Of course if you look up quotes about marriage you will get a wide spectrum of views. These range from the "marriage is prison" to "marriage is bliss". It is difficult to discern if marriage is ideal or not. 


However, all doubts I know I wish to be married. This is based off logic and based on what I feel deep down. Some of my hearts desires stem from the idea of being married. (How am I suppose to be a good witness to teens in the foster system if I never marry?) Other  reasonings stem from my partial dislike to living alone. More often than not it is a terrible inconvenience to deal with leftovers, cleaning everything myself, and to have no one to be there to remind me to be a good housekeeper. Plus at the end of the day I want to know that I'm expected to watch someone's back as I expect them to watch mine. 


Alas I leave with this:


"Love is blind, but marriage restores its sight."  ~Samuel Lichtenberg

"I just want someone to say to me no, oh, oh, oh I'll always be there when you wake, yea-ah"

Today I wish to post a youtube video that really fits how I'm feeling:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qVPNONdF58

"All I can say is that my life is pretty plain"

Now to the meat. Today it shall be a list:

1. I, the Caged Bird, have rediscovered the beauty of silence. There is something soothing about it. I can think and focus. However, it is best spent in great company.
2. Great conversation, perforated with silence is exquisite. That combined with a great listener is even better. 
3. It is wonderful to have someone to speak to about things that really bother me-- and then to know they are laughing at me deep inside. It reminds me that I stress out too much about unimportant things.
4. Going out with the girls is nice. I wish I knew a few more. 
5. Making new friends is a wonderful new hobby of mine. ^_^
6. It is great to be reading more frequently. I am currently in the book "The Picture of Dorian Gray" which you can find on-line here: http://www.online-literature.com/wilde/dorian_gray/ . It is an interesting study thus far about the effects of our actions upon our souls. I strongly suggest it already (but then again I am a big fan of Victorian Literature to begin with). My next endeavor after this novel is to tackle Vanity Fair (the book not the mag.). 
7. I enjoy playing my ukulele, and I have been trying to get my strumming down...still working on that. Songs I am currently looking into playing are: "No Rain" by Blind Mellon, "Pretty Woman" by Roy Orbison, "Come On Eileen" by Dexy's Midnight Runners, and "Wonderwall" by Oasis. Eventually I'll be a pro! (Not likely.)
8. I sometimes like to place people in two mental boxes that do not usually cross correlate. 
9. Research should be interesting I hope. The one of 13 papers I have read seemed alright. :-P
10. Sometimes things are more exciting when they are kept from everyone else. I have greatly enjoyed this pleasure of secret keeping recently. Though this particular instance I speak of is not entirely kept from everyone, it is still exhilarating. 
11. I deeply desire my running body back. It is embarrassing to get my butt kicked in the gym by females. I will get there in time. In time. 
12. Overall I am happy, pleased, content, elated, exultant, jubilant, delighted, and vivacious.

Truth be told, I use thesauruses.

I am excited about the holiday season this year, strangely enough. Perhaps it is the beautiful faux tree in my living space.

Sometimes I feel like this:

"The girl laughed again. The joy of a caged bird was in her voice. Her eyes caught the melody and echoed it in radiance, then closed for a moment, as though to hide their secret. When they opened, the mist of a dream had passed across them."

~The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

"Something in the way she knows, And all I have to do is think of her."

Today's quote comes from a friend, who recently sung this song in front of me (the reader should just look up the song, cause I'm not telling). Not to say it was for me, I don't know, but it was a soothing to hear, soothing to soak in. It reminded me to not fret, to cease panicking. It reminded me that in the end, everything would work out. It half has.

Negativity gets the best of us sometimes. It gets the best of me. Often it overpowers me in times of frustration and the feelings of a loss of control and understanding have occured-- as if a mini earthquake has destroyed my little castles.  It can become an overwhelming force leaving us as victims in its wake.

"Anger always comes from frustrated expectations"

~Elliott Larson 

My life today is balanced.
A research topic was picked. In fact it was really easy. I owe that to two of my fellow graduate students who over the past days have been tremendous ears and for asking the right questions. There is so much off my shoulders knowing that is decided and I am not being pressured to choose. I am pleased with the people I'll be working with (aka advisors) and I think the topic will be interesting enough. At least the topic is mine and I am it's.

My apartment is immaculate. It is practically sparkling. My bed is made, my laundry is folded (soon to hopefully be put away), my counters bleached. (Call me weird but I have always liked the smell of Chlorine. Swimming pools anyone?) My dishes are washed, my trash is gone, and everything is in its place. Harmony exists here, around me in pure cleanly bliss.

My checking account is in order. I am resisting the urge to spend. I hope to continue this til May. I need to avoid it. I need to get myself back in the world of debit and out of the world of credit. I will make it out. I will control my spending.

Furthermore, I've been slightly more forward with one of my friends. To my happiness they haven't backed down but met me with the same forwardness in return. I am making new friends--friends away from the ones I developed in the past few months through a guy I was seeing and am no longer seeing. It is always funny how crisp I can remember some initial meetings, while others I can not recall despite how hard I try.

I am encouraged today. The weather was pleasantly warm.

Sure the pressures of success of failure are heavy. Sure my romantic life isn't where I'd like it to be. Sure the earth sucks, otherwise we'd fall off...

But.

But getting out of bed isn't so bad all the time. I will be burned, I will be hurt, I will cry---but I will also gain, feel happiness, and laugh as if everything is a comedy. I'll dance and play and work and strive.

One day I hope there will be a man, who will be everything I want. I just hope he is willing to accept me fully with all my faults and vices. At least right now I have friends who love me regardless. That is something to be thankful for.

I believe negativity shows our ugliest sides. It is a public display of our insecurities, our fears, and our sorrows.

I shall end on a quote about harmony that I really liked:

"Harmony is pure love, for love is a concerto."

~Lope de Vega

"Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away.."

I'm tired.

I don't want to do this anymore. I really could care less about the amount of charged stored in a capacitor in series with two other capacitors in parallel.

Every fiber in my being wants to quit everything.

I can't focus on this stuff. This is NOT what I want to be doing. I'm all in a tizzy really.

I chose this school because they chose me. I am frustrated. There isn't a single research topic I'm interested in that is currently available. I can't even get the research advisor I want. *sigh*

Yet as much as I want to quit, I can't. I cannot afford to quit anymore than I can afford to fork up 2000 dollars to retake a class. I want to scream.

Furthermore, I can't even focus enough to balance my checkbook properly. I spend my nights alone with 80's music.

You ask me what I want and I'd tell you that I want to sleep. I want to sleep and not wake up. I'm tired of putting my heart and myself out there. I'm tired of people telling me I have potential, when in all honesty I don't see it. I'm tired of feeling alone and unwanted and useless.

Grad school has shown me that I still can't make lasting friendships, that I suck at romance, and that for once I may just have to settle with a future I'm not looking forward to. Fuck.

It is moments like these that I question God's intent for my life. Have I not suffered enough? Why fill me with hope to leave me on an island?

It is too much to ask for a husband who loves me? It is too much to ask for the ability to make friends and deep relationships with people near me?

Perhaps this is why I cannot focus. My life is in disarray. The edges of my sanity are fraying. I'm frantically tying and tying and tying. I just worry I won't be able to keep up, and eventually the whole garment will fray and extreme panic will set in.

I hate getting up in the morning. I do my make-up, I try to be happy. I try to focus and it all fails. My harmony is lost. My balance is no where to be found. I'm grabbing at things in the dark and getting nothing.

Deep down I just want loved. I want someone to wake up next to me in the morning who tells me I'm pretty and encourages me to be my best and guides me to see the potential in myself I cannot. Someone who instills in me the desire to be my best, to pursue my dreams, to cast down my crown of depression...

It is agonizing.

Apparently this is too much to ask. Thanks God for fucking with me, and you wonder why I get so angry with you.

"If I think too much about all of those Chinese factories.."

"..where all the stuff in a Wal-Mart is made, I get that woozy feeling you get when you see ducks covered in crude oil."
Doug Coupland



I have decided to avoid ever shopping at a Wal-Mart again. If Americans saw the damages of Wal-mart as they saw the damages of the BP oil spill....I think they'd be absolutely outraged.

Tonight I watched a documentary on Wal-mart, and quite frankly it is sickening. One statistic mentioned was that  the Walton family has given back 1%  to charities and Bill Gates gives 58% of his earnings back to charity.

This is sickening, repulsive, and disgusting.

There are offenses in connection with the following:
1. Cheating employees out of overtime, full time employment (such as working 38 hrs a week but not 40), and good health benefits
2. Costing the tax payer billions of dollars by forcing many of their employees (and in fact encouraging them) to go on Medicaid.
3. Decreasing the value of local businesses within an already established community.
4. Poor environmental practices.
5. Treating factory workers in other parts of the world inhumanely.

The list really goes on.

I worked for Wal-Mart for one summer. It is the worst place I have ever worked for in my life. I have jokingly called Wal-Mart "Satan's Palace" for years. Now I fully realize this name is true.

If you are interested in the the documentary I watched the title is:

Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Price

http://www.walmartmovie.com/


If you read my blog I strongly encourage you to do your own research. I'd ask you to NOT shop at Wal-mart. Support a company who supports their employees. Support a company that really gives back to the community.

Next time you considering going to Wal-mart because they have the cheapest prices around, ask yourself if it is worth supporting a corporation I'd pair with a huge lack of morality. Don't you think it would be worth paying a hair extra?

I suppose what I ask is that you, reader, along with me boycott Wal-mart.

Rain, Rain, go away come again everyday

Today has been interesting to say the least.

Today I humbled myself and dropped my first grad school class.
Today I became single again

The day has been a mix of small joy and humility.

Yet it rains. The sound is indescribably beautiful. Tis sweet music to my ears. I was so enthralled by the sound through the window I opened it, who really cares if it is 50 F?

Rain is the sound of comfort. Rain reminds me I'm redeemed. Rain reminds me it is alright to be sad, to dance, and to play.

Rain reminds me of good times-- of falling in love.....

It is always so peaceful, so violent, so soothing. Rain rests my soul, like the wind excites it. And the trees, so beautiful they steal my breath. (which reminds me I saw a bunch of leaves the other day I wanted to make into the best dress ever, alas I didn't grab them).

One day I will live outside of the busyness of the city, and despite what I'm wearing I'll be able to sit on the porch and get my feet wet, and hell.... I may even go play.

Thank you God-- as much as I don't like you sometimes you know how to put my soul at ease. Praise God from the rain so gladly falls to cheer me.

"Another one bites the dust"

At least it was short.

There is little I know how to say. I liked him. He's still nice.

In the end, I'm not surprised.

All I can do is weep a little and march forward.

"And even though the moment passed me by I still can't turn away "

If you're reading this.. I miss you. God, I miss you.

*slaps sense into self*

"... his love for Rachel was greater than his love for Leah"

Often I feel like Leah, and envying the love Rachel receives. It seems a little outlandish to compare myself to an unloved wife in a Genesis story, but...

Tonight, in feeling under appreciated and thinking how my life has been a flop in the dating world (not that it is currently a flop... though that is still yet to be determined). I again feel like Leah.

Anyone who knows me well would tell you that I will soon be the only non-married child in my family. Not a huge deal, except like Leah---- I'm the oldest. It isn't like I do not wish to be married, it just hasn't panned out for me in the gold rush of the early adulthoodness.

I cannot help but feel...cheated.

Let us go to Genesis 29.

Imagine, Rachel rushes in to tell her sister she has met a boy out in the field, and better yet, he has kissed her. Was Leah excited for her sister? I'm sure, any good sister would be. Was she upset? Likely. It was custom she'd be the first wed-- and now to hear that Jacob was asking for her sister? Oh, snap!

Leah had to be crushed. Jacob worked for seven years for her sister (and failed to check the merchandise before using it) to wake up next to Leah. Picture the reaction Leah had to see as Jacob realized he'd been cheated. (Though it is hard to say she should have found it unexpected.) Jacob went back for a refund only to be stuck with poor Leah.

Leah must have been humiliated. Not even a day had passed before Jacob inquired about her sister Rachel. I can only guess at what Leah must have heard that morning, "This is a terrible mistake. I worked so hard to have Rachel and I get you instead, absolutely ridiculous. Your father is such a cheat!" A week after she was married to Jacob, Jacob also marries Rachel, the woman of his dreams. On top of this he works an additional 7 years to have her. Jacob loved Rachel 14 years worth of hard labor, he loved Leah for nothing. Leah wasn't what Jacob wanted. As the title says he loved Rachel more.

God seeing the utter heartache of Leah's lackluster marriage decides to gives Leah children. (Yay! We all know this doesn't work....for well...the majority of the population.) To make the situation more favorable, God even makes Rachel miserable by not allowing her to have children. (Surely, Jacob will love Leah more now--she even says so herself.)

As I read the names of Leah's children..... Leah bore Reuben, she bore Simeon, she bore Levi, and then Judah ( She bore a few more naturally) ....it dawned on me. Leah may have been less loved by Jacob, but she was surely loved by the Lord. Why do I say this?

Leah, not Rachel, bore Levi---> This tribe become the priests of God's people.
Leah, not Rachel bore Judah ---> This is the tribe of David---> think Jesus.

I had always felt pity for Leah. Her death isn't even mentioned. She gets no gold star.

However, I now realize that Leah, the less loved by Jacob, is the source of the branch of David and thus the branch from which our Saviour is born.

God must have felt :
a) really bad for the situation Leah was in, or
b) really loved Leah tremendously.

It is hard to say. For Leah is a minor character that falls off by the 35th chapter of Genesis. She is only again mentioned in Ruth along side her sister Rachel.

As for now, I shall rest easy knowing that regardless of which woman I relate to more, both together "built up the family of Israel".

Thoughts in a Scattered Sunday

Tonight I type to silence.

Over the years I have attempted to seem as normal as possible. Although I may try to outrun my oddities they still come out. They surface.

As I have gotten older I have learned--- learned to hold back my tongue, speak less. My mind tells me to not speak at all. Why? I am exceptionally venerable. People worry about me.

I used to speak and talk about outrageously uncomfortable things when I was younger, and sometimes I still find myself doing so. I figured, the more people think they know me, the safer I am. The trick was always to scare people away with my eccentric personality and over-sharing habits. I both wanted people close, but wanted them very far away.

I am getting older now, and I'm trying. I am trying to kick the old habits of pushing people away.

However, I have a confession:

What scares the hell out of me is getting close to someone.

People are sometimes difficult to read, but to each there is a certain level of honesty and truthfulness to them. Judging this correctly is key.

When I was in third grade I was the new kid in my class. I was not alone in my "new kid-ness". Now I don't usually use names but Jesse was his name. We hit it off great-- almost immediately. We were pals before the three o'clock bell rang. However, on the third day of third grade (nice repetitiveness eh?) we got into a fight. I believe I hit him. The first and only time I was ever in a fight at school. From that moment on, Jesse and I were sworn enemies. Now you may be wondering what my point is in sharing a little background here, and this is it: anything Jesse wanted to know I told. Here was my arch-enemy, a kid I was not supposed to like. It is difficult though to describe how I felt around him though. Jesse was everything shy of magnetic. I couldn't lie to him, I couldn't hide from him (he'd be in every single one of my classes before I changed school districts). This fact about Jesse scared me. 

If only Jesse had asked the right questions he'd destroy me. He was not good. I could sense it.

With all my experience of being the loser, of being lied to, of being abandoned-- I have come to be decent at reading people. Or so I think. If I can't there are always small tests.

Deep down I am scared. I'm scared that those who come to know me fully and completely will be either appalled or use me.

But deep down, what I long for and desire is to be known and loved in spite of that.

Tonight I am successful in choking my doubts in myself. But how much longer will I be able to motivate myself with no purpose? How long will I be able to "hope" that ahead of me are opportunities to make a difference?

If you can't tell my mind is all a flurry now. There is so much to think about.
1. I am not my parents.
2. I will one day be a good parent.
3. E--- what will be?
4. Motivation--where will I find it?
5. My marrying sister
6. Homework--thou art a thorn in my side
7. God.
8. Me.

sleep time. zzzZzzz

"I am armed to the teeth, and I'm heavy set."

I still love him. It will be two years in March since he decided he didn't want me.

....and though I know we were never to be....I could never be his mother.... I cannot help but want to see his life. I want to see him flourish. I want to see him marry a pretty girl, and see him as a successful man of God, a kind-hearted community member, and a wonderful father.

...for me. I hope I can love like I loved him again. God knows it was as blind as could be... I loved him with my heart, mind, and soul. I still do.

G, you are my model of what my love should look like. You should know that.

Sometimes I think God put you in my life to show me I was fully capable of loving someone as imperfected and lost as you were at times. I am positive that the right man will come around whom loves me as I loved you, and that I love as much or more than I loved you.

I am proud to see where you've come since your freshman year. I know you have much more to improve upon, but so do I. It is my hope you live up to the greatness I saw in you.

I am close I think. I am ready to put myself out there again....even if I get burned. I'm glad my memories of you don't haunt me anymore and that I'm learning to let you go...or have almost let you completely go. Heaven knows you've let me go.

"I don't know where I'm going/ Or where to begin/ Alone in this room/ Thinking of you "

I am an array of uncertainty. I am insecure, and questioning myself.

Again I'm going to touch on something regarding relationships. It is beginning to bother me that I am "just a girl I am seeing".

The source of this is likely the fact I don't know what he is seeking in a "relationship". Does he just want to date with his options open? Is he looking for something serious?

If I could have one super-power I'd pick the ability to read minds. Men are people who do a damn good job at maintaining emotional homeostasis. It is difficult to pick up how they feel about you.

How do you really feel?

I know everyone is different in how they relate to others emotionally. Perhaps I am quick.

I'm scattered and shy of the panic of wasting time and money. If another man asks me for my number I want to know if I should be rejecting his request.

I am uncertain on what I should be doing. I'm unsure of what "we" are. I haven't a clue how long you plan on being in the picture.

I understand some things take time. I'm waiting to see how much of my heart I'll give away. I'm waiting to see if you walk. I am waiting to see if my flaws are too much. Yet I don't want to rush anything. I don't want to show my hand too soon. I just wish my mind would rest easy about the subject.

Patience. God please give me more.

"Thinkin' about us, what we gonna be?"

I am sad tonight. Sometimes this happens, it overcomes me suddenly like jumping into an icy pool to have the coldness rush over you. 

Perhaps it is the criticism of the recent ex. 

Perhaps it is that I'm simply worn out from putting myself out there. I am worn out from dating the wrong people. 

I don't want to change who I am. I want to be loved for my naked personality. I want to be embraced by someone who loves me for who I am, not who they wish I could be. 

I keep telling myself I am not in a rush to marry. I am not ready to marry. 

I guess I wonder, like all my past relationships, if what I have right now will last-- will be worth the journey. 

Either way God has a purpose for everything right? 

He has a purpose for me watching my younger siblings marry before me. 

He has a purpose in having me sexually molested by my birth father as a child.

He has a purpose in that I cannot get along with my adoptive parents. 

He has a purpose for me. 

I keep telling myself I am worth something in God's kingdom. Though more often than not I have doubts. I wonder if I am to be tossed aside with the goats. 

I am so hopeful. I look forward to enjoying my life with my husband. I look forward to having children whom I already love with my whole heart. I want to dance. I want to sing. I want to run on an autumn day. 

My world is so idealized. Sometime reality is such a disappointment. 

Grr....

There is a reason I don't tell my parents about my "personal life".

Just so they get the facts clear, the last TWO boyfriends I have had have dumped me.

******END OF FRUSTRATION RANT*******

Candles

I need to stop this burning the candle at both ends. Though really, have you ever seen a candle burn at both ends?

I haven't either.

Today I got my first grad level test back. I scored a 58/100. Glorious.

I remind myself that I am not a quitter. I am a fighter. When life throws you lemons you spite the world and like lemons. (For some reason that sounds incredibly funny at this hour.)

I guess this is my wake up call. I'm playing with the big dogs now. My old (lack thereof serious) study habits aren't going to cut it. I cannot just sit in class and soak. I must dig.

There is so much to put together in my life right now. I have been unfocused for far too long. Focus Erica.

Coming back to candles (for I know I'm rambling but I have to relax if I am to sleep)....I like them. I like candle lit services. What this has to do with my study habits beats me.

Perhaps I need to stop living like a candle. I burn and burn and burn and burn and burn and burn and burn. I sit and wait while my life evaporates slowly----and I melt to the point of nearing a point where the wax spills everywhere. How does a candle burn slower? I have never explored this question, but I guess a better question would be how can I live my life so that I am not evaporating from both ends?

Time management. What an awful concept. (I've never liked it and my mother has been screaming it at me since I was twelve.)

Focus Erica.

Things I need to focus on:

1. School: despite how I really want to live the undergraduate life I never had....I must focus better on my schoolwork. I cannot afford another defeat. I do not want to cut myself off from the prize. I am here to learn.

2. Faith: God and I are slowly becoming friends again. Though I'm sure he's twisting my arm somewhere....

3. Social life: I need to give this more focused attention but less time I believe.

4. Cleaning my apartment: for as much as I wish it would clean itself...

Back to candles. Burn bright or burn dim? Hmmm.

I hope I dream of candles tonight out of optical systems. I will fade into the deep darkness focusing on the flickering of their beautiful flames.

I really should become full fledged Orthodox...for they have candles.

"This little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine, let it shine, let it shine."

God, people are greedy.
(If you missed that jump since I'm exceptionally scattered tonight--- A candle does not lose light in lighting another candle, yet we as humans tend to want to store up our light (goods, services, faith, etc) as if it were shared we'd somehow have less).

All things good tonight would be lit by candle light. Sadly I hardly have any candles. :-(

Anyways bed, candle dreams, and a glimpse into the scattered brain of the CagedBird.

A Farewell to Drinky McVomit

I am a big fan of drinking. I really really like alcohol. However, I have decided after several episodes that perhaps I should say farewell to my drinking self. 

There is no easy way to say this. I make a terrible drunk and it may very well have cost me.

Recently, I have greatly enjoyed the company of a fine man whom will be referred to as E. He often invites me out on weekends where I proceed to embarrass him in front of his friends, spill liquor everywhere, and insult him. 

This is a tragedy. Absolute tragedy. 

I may have single handedly lost my shot. I really like this guy. Yes, he's a little on the pudgy side, but in all honesty I really don't care. For the first time I really couldn't care and besides does it really matter in the long haul? (He dresses better than most guys anyways.) The more I know about him and learn about him the more fascinating he is. E is terribly interesting, a really nice guy (he's really put up with me pretty well), and he is smart (and we all know how I like the smart ones-- he's a rocket scientist :-)  ). 

E is filled with sustenance. He is good in giving, and good in taking. He's relaxed and it relaxes me to be in his company. He is patient, and seems to like my quarks. He has a great smile, a wonderful laugh (that goes well with his sense of humor), and he plays cards. 

I guess the reason I say farewell to "Drinky McVomit" is I realize that before me is something I wish to have, and I am or may have already pushed it away. 

And as much as I enjoy drinking, it is not worth losing the company of a very intriguing man who makes me smile.  

"Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride"

My baby sister, (remember I am just 22) recently got engaged and I get to be the maid of honor. It is not the first time I have been asked to be a maid of honor (I've never been asked to be a bridesmaid...hmm). The fact my sister is going to be getting married soon comes as no shock to me, but I cannot help but be disappointed. Don't get me wrong, I am stoked and happy for my sister, I'm just not happy about myself.

My history of relationships does not extend to a great number of people. As one guy said to me I am a "serial monogamist". I think that is an accurate description. I have long relationships. Perhaps I am willing to make anything work and work hard to make it do so, or I get boring over time. I'm not entirely sure why all my relationships cannot withstand lasting much past the "year" time frame.  Being analytical in nature, I have scoured all the possibilities and am still left empty handed and wondering.

Now you may be wondering about the title, since if you haven't caught on yet, I mostly use song lyrics (mostly, there are clear exceptions). However, today this is one of those exceptions. When I was in high school and ran cross country and track my father made it to several of my meets during the season. He was never fully satisfied with my races and thought that I should also be dissatisfied. He was generally encouraging, but his dissatisfaction had its reasoning. I never really won many races. More often than not I'd come in anywhere between 2nd to 4th. My father often would tell me: "Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride". Of course I never thought second was terrible.

Thinking back to the phrase I so often heard from my father directed only towards me (I have two younger siblings--one being the marrying sister, the other my already married brother who is a father now) I wonder if the phrase isn't true for other areas for my life. It is clear that right now in my life I am not a bridesmaid, but a maid of honor. There are countless things I excel at, and nothing I am the "Bride" of. It begs me to question if I am honestly a second-seeking missile.  Furthermore, I question if I hold myself back from being my best because I am terrified of being the Bride. This is very much a possibility.

When one attends a wedding there is one central character, one minor character, and a bunch of fill ins. The Bride runs the show, has all the eyes, and consumes the minds of those in the audience. Bridesmaids stand beside the bride, visible and beautiful but less stunning than the bride, and attract little to no attention except from guys looking for a target. (Guys looking for a target...hmm. I wonder why I said that. I'll have to ponder that rabbit trail later.) Perhaps that is why I enjoy taking the "maid of honor" approach to life, it allows me to receive the highest "award" with the most cover.

I have never been a person comfortable with the swarming attention of many people. I like to sit casually back and be the dependable one. I've never been comfortable being "the best". There is too much attention assigned to it. I never ran as fast as I probably could have--- I always felt strong finishing. In pursuing my BS (which I now have ^_^ ) I could have pulled off better grades-- but I didn't choose to. I never pursued my dreams to their full extent either. Perhaps I have found a major flaw in myself.

Could it be that I simply enjoy being the Bridesmaid, because I am too afraid of being the Bride? I think it is very possible. God. To think if I have done this well just being the Bridesmaid, imagine how dangerous I'd be as the Bride.

Now back to Bridesmaid stuff.

"He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing" ~Zephaniah 3:17b

You know what I want at this point in my life?

I want to have someone to sleep next to.

While there are many perks to living by oneself, there are also many disadvantages.

One evening in the not so distant past I went to a Meijer's (think a better version of wal-mart). Going as late as I did there aren't many people there compared to the after-work crowd, and the people shopping seem so much more relaxed.

Commonly I look at what is on sale when I shop, and I came across a woman while I was looking at yogurts. I of course, being the chatty individual I am started a conversation. I had lamented how stores rarely cater to the single person household. She was there shopping for a family of 5. I remember envying her. While food went so fast in her home, I could barely eat everything I bought in an ample amount of time.

Everyday I go to bed alone, I eat alone, a watch movies alone. Sometimes I enjoy these moments to myself where only the gentle rantings of my upstairs neighbor or cars pulling into the parking lot bother me.

But in all honesty-- I think I am ready. I am ready to settle down-- not this instant, but within a few years. At 22 the last thing that should be on my mind I suppose is settling down. My younger brother (who is a year younger than me) is married and has a baby boy, and my sister-- well she is also younger and the time is tocking away til she marries her high school sweetheart. I feel cheated.

I beg to question "what about me?" I worry that I will live my life in a string of 1 year relationships and that in the end I will be left alone in my adventure through life, that I will continue to go to bed with my teddy-bear, and that I will fix meals for myself.

I deeply desire to be a wife, and a mother. I'm just not sure yet--- I'm not certain it is what I am meant to do. I honestly get angry with God over this. I suppose my anger arises from watching those around me pair up, and from the frustration of so many promising relationships fall to shambles. Yet, oddly each man has impacted my life in positive ways. I just hope that God is shaping my stubborn heart for a really great man.

"Sugar is sweeter, but liquor is quicker!"

As I have finally no reason to explicitly avoid alcohol, I now drink roughly once a week.

There are a few problems with my current drinking habits.
#1. I don't like beer. This results in me drinking wine or high alcohol percent mixed drinks.
#2. I drink quickly. I drink anything quick- water, juice, alcohol. This has major drawbacks. I become loopy quickly.
#3. I am still terrible at knowing when to stop. I therefore must be watched.
#4. I enjoy what I am drinking. Therefore I drink more of it.

I've decided that my drinking habits will need to change. I am a very happy and even more eccentric drunk.

Now I know that "drinking" if often frowned upon by the church. I really believe this is not for the act of drinking itself, but moreso for the negative actions that can result from drinking. Drinking often leads to undesirable consequences -- like having to have someone else drive you home.

But there are a few things I like about being drunk. One main one: I have to be dependent. Second,  I am a much happier person. I have found my mood is overall improved even when I'm not drinking.

Either way, I still manage to make a terrible Baptist--

"Seasons come and go, fade until tomorrow"

Let's be frank, being single is not ideal -- at least to me.

I recently had a discussion with a friend who was perplexed by the idea that I must have a companion. He stated that I should need no one but the Lord. I disagree. 

In the first chapter of the Bible, God makes Adam. Adam is well and all, but God decides that man should not be alone--- thus he creates a "companion" for Adam. Eve was more than a sexual partner for Adam. She fulfilled a deeper need-- companionship. She was someone whom he could have conversations with, someone to share the work, someone to pass the time. If God saw the importance for Adam to have Eve, should he not also see the poorness of a man's soul who is very much alone as something to be avoided?

Now whether or not you are a "God-fearing" believer or not, I think it is clear that we are not meant to live our lives in inward confinement. We naturally form pairings and groups. We naturally seek to be surrounded by people. This is not so say that as individuals we cannot enjoy time to ourselves, but for overall wellbeing and a good state of mental health I am a firm believer that interacting with people is vital. 

One case I can give is my need to be touched. By this I mean over a certain period of time there is a minimum I must be engaged in hugs, handshakes, pats on the back, or a tender touch. The lack of such interaction leaves me depressed and moody. Sometimes it gets to the point that I'll touch people. This of course can be a social inconvenience.

As I have been in my new home for a month now, and I being that I am recently single I look forward to gaining a companion-- Romance or not. 

"One For Each Hour You Didn't Show"

When I was a child, I always looked forward to music class. I wasn't particularly a talented singer or musician but we always did something I enjoyed. It was a chance to get caught in the "art".

On this lazy Saturday afternoon, I remembered one of my favorite activities in music class when I was oh so small. The activity was simple. The music teacher would have us all sit such that we were comfortable. After we were done readying ourselves one of two things would happen. One, she would hand out paper and pencils to us all, or two-- she would have us sit silently with our eyes closed. After this she would give us instructions to listen to the music and visualize. The experience was almost religious in nature, for my young impressionable self.

This afternoon, resting with my eyes covered by my pillows and my ears open I put on classical, then Hem. Instinctively, I re-lived a pleasant part of my childhood. I began to think upon why I always enjoyed that simple exercise. Peace. Doing the activity was like reading a book with every sense but your sight. It was relaxing and in many respects a release from the stresses, ugliness, and sweet sorrow that came with my life. I was able to escape into the melodies of the music.

Granted there were other things I enjoyed about music class-- hand bells, singing "Lean on Me" and playing the tambourine off-beat-off-rhythm. I still enjoy doing these things... I enjoy singing loudly sometimes, and attempting to play my ukulele.

Overall, my desire for depressing music is fueled by this same concept.... the peace. The peace that I am not alone in my struggles, my sorrows, and desires to be loved.



Those who read my blog should really check out Hem if you haven't yet!

All Things Come to an End

Tonight, I was let go. In many ways I cannot blame him.

Long distance relationships are difficult. It is hard to keep one going.

I always have a sinking feeling when relationships are close to an end. This one was no different.

Back to homework.

"I wanna walk with you on a cloudy day"

One of the worst things about breaking up with G was knowing I couldn't call him at any hour to come hold me and remind me everything was going to be okay. It was knowing that from then on I'd have to cry alone.

I miss closeness.

I hate time zones apart.

I miss tender kisses.

I hate empty phone calls.

I enjoy Sunday night dinners out.

I hate eating so many meals alone.

I miss singing loudly in the car with someone else.

I hate singing alone.

I miss who I was with you.

I hate who I am now.

"I love you, not for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you."

-Roy Croft

Distance makes the (magnetic field's influence weaker) heart grow fonder

Confession: I dislike beautiful women who are smart and have things in common with anyone I'm dating.

My reasoning: I feel inferior to other women in all honesty. Growing up I was called ugly, and I sat there and watched all the pretty girls snag all the guys I liked away. They take my crushes, they take my friends.

Furthermore, I'd consider myself a little uptight, a little dull. Other women just seem more----exciting.

I know I am not some superior specimen, and therefore I need reminded of my place in your life. How you feel about me. I don't want to be cut from the loop.

I suppose this is why I hate long distance relationships. I cannot give women I don't know the benefit of doubt. I don't know them.

I am a very jealous girlfriend. Everything in my life has slowly or swiftly been taken from me. I am possessive of the things I have---for if I'm not, I'm afraid someone will come along and snatch it away.

I feel so juvenile. 

"When I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go"

"I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself; he was gone: My soul went forth when he spoke. I sought him, but I found him not; I called him, but he gave me no answer." ~Song of Solomon 5:6


I used to call my ex "Beloved" because I loved him in a way that was "Biblical". I loved him as she loved Solomon. 


I found this passage fitting. 


Sometimes, with his demands for me to have a closer walk with God, I think he failed to see how integrated I was. He failed to see the faith in 80 handwritten letters. I like to think I failed to communicate my feelings. I like to think that I had not made my faith a parade for him to see actively. 


I can wish to think a certain way, but that does not change the truth. It was not a failure on my part. I opened the door, I sought him, and I called. He failed simply failed to try, failed to see, and most of all failed to listen. 


I am happy to now have a boyfriend who notices and listens, someone to be there when I open the door, when I call, and when I seek him-- he can be found.


My question tonight is:


Are we not called to seek God with all our hearts, souls, minds, and body's? Should we also have this zealousness for seeking our future spouses? 


All in all, I cannot see myself marrying someone with whom damages our soul through neglect. Perhaps this is why I am no longer with my ex. Perhaps this is why we really are best apart. 


I want to share my soul with a man I can trust to be there when I knock, when I call and when I seek him-- I should be able to find him.


I think I am a step in the right direction. 

"I keep you warm and won't ask you where you've been"

Today was a good day.

The weather was on the cusp of fall-- cool yet warm. I ran, and as awful as it was, I am happy to be able to.

I am thankful for friends, and thankful for a boyfriend who cares for me.

Today was a great day.

‎"Is this all we get, to be absolute? Quiet but I'm sure, there is something here. Tell me everything, 'cause I want to hear."

I sometimes enjoy letting my unwanted thoughts scurry around hitting the china cabinet and letting the dishes crash to the floor, breaking into a bountiful display of mixed emotions. This recklessness with my thoughts brings me the joy of poisoned honey. The reassurance that I am not shallow, that there is something here. It is blissful to watch the china fall, retarded by the scale of time within my mind. I watch capturing every moment of the trajectory because after I have observed the myriad emotions, memories, and thoughts diffracted by the trigger of the event, I like to carefully sweep up the pieces, grab my glue and set to work.

My memories are precious to me. However, I am not a perfect craftsman. The dishes break. Even at my best I cannot recreate the dishes perfectly. Occasionally, the dishes become more impressive in their beauty that I dramatize to enhance the next "letting loose the bulls". I like beautiful things. I do not always improve the beautiful aspects of my dishes. It is best to leave some as ugly as they ever were-- or to remove some of the beauty left in them.

What is the point?

I thought of death today. How much easier is it to endure a death than a heartbreak?

I am not sure I know the answer, simply because I have not experienced death tremendously close to myself. Most people I have known who have died I am mostly left with a collection of beautiful memories. These dishes improve over time.

A heartbreak?  They are best sometimes left on the floor, swept up, and thrown out. This leaves one problem.-- I am a pack-rat. Even with my memories. I want to cherish the beautiful things those I dated did for me. I don't want to let go of how it felt to be loved by someone I shared so much of my life with. I do not want to remember them badly. Even so, it is important to keep the bad memories. It is important to remember when you first realized you were never truly loved.

In some cases, the bad memories gain strength only to subside after the happy ones are gone.

My heart has been broken many times over.

• My birth parents-- whom betrayed me for their selfish desires,
• Myself-- for breaking a heart, which I cut swiftly and as cleanly as possible
• My Beloved--whom in his doubt and indecisiveness nearly snuffed out my desires for anything and accidentally stole my heart 
• My adoptive parents--whom never quite got the hang of loving me for who I was
• My friends-- those whom in life have slowly walked away for newer things
• and Again Myself-- for allowing myself to be so seized with the fear.... that I forgot how to dance

I am sure there are many more.

Yet, among the heartbreaks I am the one who keeps coming back to watch the ceramic delicately fly. I am the one who treasures the sound of crashing emotions, thoughts, and memories. I am the one who painstakingly reassembles each piece to restore it to how I want it. I try to remember the best about each one and the worst.

When it comes to people I try to remember that they are flawed, and that I am too. I grab for both who they were and who I wanted them to be. Sometimes I create false memories just to relish. They don't shine quite as well though and don't reassemble quite right.

Perhaps next time, I shall saturate the colors, re-master the sound, and alter the fragrances til they are just to my liking.





I really hope I am not out of my mind.

"I don't regret any days I spent, nights we shared, or letters that I sent"

It is late. Very late.

Today has been an odd day. It is the time of the month where I am most vulnerable to these kind of things-- emotional stress. Driving into school today I couldn't help but think of him. Every song on the radio I had to change. I couldn't escape G from my thoughts. Eventually frustrations with finding a parking space cured me of the memories. Usually my mental self medication works.

Tonight again as I attempt to sleep, I fail to forget him. I fail to see the bad, and I cry. I cry  because roughly 18 months ago the process of ripping myself apart and reassembly started. My diary from the time we dated would hint at how intertwined I placed myself. How I loved him with the depths of my crooked heart, and how feverishly I asked God for the ability to love him as He, God, loved him. My faith deepened. My walk with God was at a peak as I was encouraged in my pursuit of spiritual improvement and my desires to have a relationship with the proper focus. I ingrained myself into the very being of this man.

I cry now. I cry because though I have tried to remove this infection of love for a man which does not love me, nor cares enough to speak to me, with no success.  I have been somewhat successful in removing my liking of him in many regards-- but it is hard to unfeel. It is hard to forget the sweetness of his ways, the smoothness of his voice and touch, and the peace that enveloped me in his presence. It is difficult to overcome the ways I had trained myself to love him. I was too successful. Some healing has come, slowly. It has been a rough time. I have adjusted to a new boyfriend (which I've had for over a year now!) whom I never see...and which often seems cold and distant...for we are often too busy and too far away. It is hard to give up on the boyfriend when he has yet to be given a fully chance. I do love him, but I do not feel as if my spirit is in harmony with his, that my soul longs for his. Thus my healing is incomplete.

To forget G is harder for me than it is for the reverse. I live each day with the knowledge that he won't be around. That he doesn't want to be the father of my children, with the questions of his sincerity, and with the doubting of God's devotion to my well-being. I feel jaded. I am lacking kisses on the forehead, long enduring hugs of peace, and the comfort of Tide. In many ways my soul and heart long for him. My mind luckily is the supreme power that has told me that G is the enemy and missing his presence in my life is fruitless, pathetic and wrong. My mind tells me to love the boyfriend, S. Grow to love S moreso than G. I don't know that I am up for the task. With S I do not long to be my best. I do not actively seek out a connection of mind, body and spirit. I suppose the underlying factor here is the knowledge that such may very well lead to disaster. I'm certain that putting in all my cards again would likely lead to an ugly death by my own hands. At least for now.

I wanted a strong sense of family. I wanted to be apart of someone else's family. I wanted to be a great daughter-in-law. I wanted to be a great wife, an amazing mother, and a godly woman. I wanted a husband whom I was fully integrated with and whom wanted the same. I wanted to be one.

No matter the amount of tears I cry, I know that they are fruitless. Perhaps God is counting. Perhaps on Judgement Day, when they read the synopsis of my life for all to know-- people will know, more importantly G will know, how dedicated I was to one day being the wife he needed. For now I must forget this nonsense. I must walk on. I must remember that the loss of  a part of my soul is not to have a loss in the hope of one day being happily married to a man who will be more than happy to call me his wife.

Hopefully I can sleep here soon and these thoughts won't trouble me for a while.

"I find I'm scared to know I'm" *never* "on your mind."

I am getting closer to having the first week of grad school out of the way. Yippie!

I never pictured myself in Ohio. In all honesty I feel that I am very much in the right place. There is a large Asian population it seems in the area (judging by the Korean and Chinese Baptist Churches), which is always a plus. I like Asians. I've never met a mean one.

Though I've been in the area for two weeks now, I still have no "friends". I define a friend as someone I can call up and go hang out with. Someone whom calls me frequently. Though I have many friends that don't meet this criteria. I get lonely. But the best way to avoid loneliness is to remain distracted. I try very hard. I fear being this way for a lifetime and it is horrifying.

I've done much to help my friendless problem. I attend classes, talk to people around campus, and go to the gym. I even joined a group on-line of 20-somethings that get together and do things. I started to go to church last week and hopefully weeks to come will be fruitful. I simply want a friend near.

This makes me think back to something G said. He was always worried I wouldn't do well by myself. That I couldn't sustain myself. I have managed to get a car, get an apartment, and soon will be living financially stable. I can make it by alone. I hope that I'd make you proud, but I'm sure I'm a failure in your eyes. In fact I bet you don't care.

This reminds me of people who care. My undergrad prof asked about me the other day. It is assuring to know that he cared. I miss that man. Teachers are wonderful people.

I write here tonight, almost as a small prayer, in hopes that soon a friend will show. Soon I will find contentment with life. I feel I am close to being content. I don't really need much.

500 sq ft of apartment is what 30+ men in a Chilean mine have. How richly blessed am I? (Note that I wouldn't want anything bigger than what I currently have. This is a nice size for me... but 33 men! geez!)

I am certain someone loves me beyond measure.

By the way, you should read Dracula. Awesome book. I really enjoyed it for many reasons. It reminds me how some trials must be endured for the best.

"I believe in one God, The Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible"

I have a confession. I am strongly attracted to the Orthodox Christian Church. I am a Southern Baptist.

In all honesty I grew up in a home where God was never mentioned. Oddly I've always known He was there. I don't know how, but I do know why--- as crazy as it sounds He had His Eye on me. My path to becoming "Christian" started when I was 12. I started attending a Methodist service with my birth mom. I didn't understand it--I simply colored the pages.

When I went into foster care I went to church 3 times a week with my foster parents. They were Baptist.

In many ways my theology is an odd mix of Baptist and Methodist. In many ways I am disappointed in the Baptist idea. There is too much focus on myself. Too many pop-esque worship songs. Too much informality.

While I agree the church should be an entity that opens it's doors to all, I don't like the idea of people coming in their street shoes to the house of God.

Worship to me is a very, very formal thing. I attempt to dress in my best. To me, God demands we worship and follow him wholeheartedly, why should my dress be any different?

If the Orthodox church is a flame I am a moth. She, Christ's Bride, in her most formal form captures this prodigal's eyes. She is well polished. Predictable. Formal and mysterious. She is ritualistic and symbolic.

I enjoy a very involved worship service. One that distracts my mind off me, and pulls my attention to the prize-- Jesus Christ, my Lord and Saviour. <--- And that is what I expect to find in the very rooted traditional services of the Orthodox church.

I am very excited to head to church tomorrow. Very, very excited.

"The lover is a monotheist..."

who knows that other people worship different gods but cannot himself imagine that there could be other gods.  ~Theodor Reik


My summer roommate and I had a nice talk this evening. She is always very helpful for talking about things that are generally on my mind. We talked about grad school, old flames, and the importance of being loved fully. I think this quote (see above) is fitting for the last topic.


The roomie brought up that when we are loved unconditionally and love unconditionally that a relationship will flourish. I must agree


As a woman I believe I am to love my future husband like I am to love my Lord. Do we not worship our God, our Lord with full knowledge that other "gods" exist? I do. However, I fully know that the Christian God, to me to be the only God out there. I hope I feel the same about my husband some day.


My hopes are that he, my husband, loves me with the same depth and passion in which my Lord does.


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Furthermore I'd like to speak about the lost.  I wept last night about such and for a while I had difficulty sleeping. I wept over people whom I've come to dislike...flaming atheists who've never cared or been nice to me. I guess the thoughts are how am I any different that I am called to Christ?


Hell is a tricky topic for a compassionate Calvinist that I am. It bothers me that I do not understand why God doesn't call the good, the mediocre, the little starving girls of Africa...


Sometimes, it is hard to feel like a productive evangelist and mention hell. Tricky not to scare people into a faith, that for them will be empty. Tricky even more to avoid pissing them off with cases such as Gandhi who by the book is likely to burn in hell--even when many Christians couldn't begin to touch how close to the actions of Christ the man lived. 


Yet it is difficult for me to believe that I will make it to heaven. It doesn't appeal to me. I long to see Christ embrace the lost little girl in Africa just once before I burn.


It is not out of a doubt of my salvation, but an assurance of what is rightfully deserved of my sinful life. I wish I could be like Gandhi-- and perhaps one day I shall overcome my fears of having nothing and do so.

"I sometimes find you and I collide " Sadly you wanted something elastic.

They say no man is an island, but more often than not I feel like an island.

I have a confession. I'm certain I suffer from some form of depression, that I have a low self-esteem, and I am never fully certain anyone ever likes me. I have serious trust issues.

Confession 2: I ignore that anything in my first confession is true.

In all respects it is easier to think that I am not blue or lonely. I attempt to do everything to surround myself with people. I know it is best for me.

My inner thoughts make me question my sanity-- for to live is to frankly suffer longer.

Now suffering is good and all. I should clarify. Suffering has its meaning, its points, its lessons. Inherently suffering in my mind isn't a product of evil, but a natural often occurring phenomenon. It happens. From what we suffer becomes the unbearable part.

I've thought of various ways to curb my loneliness and really... nothing has been found that works. Alcohol keeps me from remembering my ex-boyfriend--- or perhaps he is never on my mind when I drink. Either way. I try not to use alcohol this way. I fear being lonely AND an alcoholic.

 I usually attempt more constructive methods, which do not relieve my loneliness but make it much more enjoyable to suffer in. Music is an example. While it might remind me of what I've lost, what I am missing out on, music reminds me that I am not alone in thinking.

I'd write my future husband letters if I actually believed he existed. I guess it is more that I need convincing he actually exists anymore...and that my desires to be married to a godly, good, man are not disillusion of my own working. Then again I'm not good enough-- ask my ex-boyfriend.

Rambling is a result of being upset for me. I just need to get things off my chest so to speak. If no one cares to listen at least the internet will still accept my posts. Ha! It can't escape.

And the Title. A poor jab at the ex-boyfriend-- because I'm upset and he's an easy target. Shame on me. When the rain comes I'm sure he wouldn't offer an umbrella.