coastally illuminated

cold as it gets

2009-08-30T17:08:00.000-07:00

yesterday i woke up, mourning for something i couldn't change. i couldn't put it into words nor could i find a reason. my eyes felt a surge of liquid, but there was no break, no peak of emotion that proceeds tears.
it haunted me all day. i hardly felt like speaking. i worked for nine hours, came home and collapsed. i eventually found my bed and used the sleep function for the first time in the three years i've owned my television.

i awoke today. still feeling that haunting stillness. i had a beautiful melody in my head, the words of which speak to the deep seated feelings i push away so often.
i tried to ignore, to shake it all away. to discount it as a bad night's sleep.
i sat and listened to ageless wisdom. i smiled. i laughed. i tried to be what everyone expected.
and despite four hours of friends and chatter and the breaking of bread, i felt the same. i felt the haunting stillness. the cold mourning.
i followed the road to a bookstore and curled up in an armchair and read. i sipped coffee. i waited for the heavy weight to slide away. i watched humanity pass me by, saw each face as they surveyed me, alone, in the corner.

i saw my reflection in the girl at the coffee shop who mentioned i looked down. i shrugged it off with a half-hearted smile and offered up the sort of typical "tired" excuse strangers and acquaintances welcome.
i knew i couldn't put into words how i felt, and i knew she didn't really care to hear the sorrow i felt so intensely, with no source i could pin down.
hours passed. the sun dipped into the tree branches outside, and i knew my effort at stalling a night alone was failing.
before i knew it i was at a stoplight, then in my driveway. my mind had been elsewhere, not on the road, or my car, or my key in the ignition, nor was it on my house door as i unlocked it.
i sat down and read a paragraph in a new book.

and then it came. a huge wave of sadness. a crashing of some inner barrier. i braced my arms around myself, feeling the intense shivering as i finally let myself feel.
i felt the wounds of personal dissapointment, of failure, of hurt - the cuts i had spent the past month bandaging up for another day's attention.
i felt the grief, all over again. i felt the loneliness. the rejection. the isolation. confusion. frustration. pain.

and then i swallowed it all down, a hard knot in my throat, a bitter pill i had held too long in my mouth.
one deep breath.
i looked in the mirror and closed the bleary eyes that were staring at me, mentally silencing my fears, shushing my pain.

i know a cold as cold as it gets
i know a darkness that's darker than cold
a wind that blows as cold as it gets
blew out the light of my soul...
i dream in my sleep, i dream in my days
Of some sunny street not so far away
where up in a window a curtain will sway
and you and i'll meet down below...

starting from scratch

2009-08-18T18:53:00.000-07:00

Being on the ground floor is hard.

I feel like right now I'm working on the ground floor in a ton of ways.
I am building the "next big" site. A frivolous venture for sure. But it's generated such great response - it's pretty amazing.
I am working on myself - starting from scratch on my health and overall well-being. A FULL bloodwork list for tomorrow morning will be super unapologetic.
I am learning to be... unaffected. In a good way. To just be assertive in a sweet-natured sort of way. It's hard. It's a process for sure.

And I am searching for the best way to reach the people I know I want to be reaching. The group of people I know I need to be a part of, who I want to be influencing, who I want to inspire change in, who I want to help reach the world, who I know can change the world.

It's hard.

I've been watching the History channel's series on Greek Mythology before bed, and a few nights ago they wrapped up Hercules and his 10 labors. It struck me that although Hercules was supposedly half-mortal, he relied a lot on his immortal ties and friends for help with his labors. They help him to be... supernatural.

I have a Friend who helps me with my struggles. He's faithful. He's just. He's able. He's supernatural.
He makes it less hard. He makes it worth it. He gives it all purpose.

The ground floor. I don't know if I'd want to be anywhere else.

restricted

2009-08-12T20:47:00.000-07:00

i have a disease.
the statement itself is both simple and vague, unlike the disease itself, which is complex and vague.

i suppose i'm just so tired of not acknowledging that it [the vague disease] affects every single part of my life.
i want to be a normal almost 25 year old.
but with the events of the past month, i'm determined to do whatever it takes to be healthy.
it's not just the surface and visible effects that war with my self-security.
the ones i ignore all the time - dry skin and chronically cold hands and feet, and the visible struggle with weight.
it's the fact that i'm exhausted, and unfocused and have a hard time remembering things. it's the unexplained tendency toward crying and the pull of depression. every time i lose feeling in a hand, finger or toe, it's the invisible knowledge that inaction will make my heart slowly decrease it's rate and output and eventually there will be some sort of shutdown with my kidneys.

and one day, i won't be able to ignore it.
one day it'll stop being a disease. it will be the end.
my mind rails against the words of men. my spirit wants to live freely and beyond constrictions of pills and blood tests.
the choice may seem obvious, but making it is succumbing to a medical straight jacket.
it's made me feel alone, it's made me feel outcast, and it's made me feel unwanted or unwantable.
i've been angry and i've been upset. neither helped.

so now i'm being honest. i'm being open.
this is me, this is what lurks in the back of my mind everyday.
i've complained. i've wept.
now i'm done. i have to face it. Own it. Do what it takes.

pray for me.

and if you see me, and i'm cold or tired or inexplicably upset, please understand.
if you hold my [dry] hand, and i seem unfocused, remember why.

remember quietly though. unless you want me to cry. :)
[now pass the hand lotion]

learn more

moments.

2009-08-03T19:35:00.000-07:00

how do i get it out?
how do i say all the things i have no words for?

no matter what thought or sentiment i have, it seems as if they are a worthless effort or an overly sentimental moment.
and you deserve more than either of those things.

i knew from the moment i first saw you i would like you.
in fact, i knew it so strongly i tried to keep it to myself.
and nearly succeeded.
until that fateful night - the one i never got over.
in fact, if i ever blushed, i would blush still thinking about it.
i tried to get over you for a year.
tried to "be cool" for so long.
and there were great moments. there were fight moments.
i'm sorry for picking the fights i did.
i forgive you for the ones you caused.

the last two times i saw you, were some of the favorite moments i had.

i was so excited to have you be a part of that wedding.
i threatened to have your name written as nicholas.
but i would never do that to you.
you were so amazing that whole day...
and of course, when you called last dance, and i faded into the corner to watch all the couples sway slowly together...
i should have known you would walk over and reach out for my hand.
it was a reminder, that fizzy way the gesture made my heart feel, that i still wasn't over you.
and we danced and i told you how great you had been that night and you said the same about me.
and i should have just gotten over myself and told you how unrequited i felt.
if i had known...

and at lunch that day, the last "work" moment...
you looked sideways at me and asked why we weren't sitting together.
and so i moved over. we chatted. i still had those stupid butterflies.
god, i wish i had just been somehow normal.
i wish i had done so many things differently.
now it just seems so petty. ugh... i hope it wasn't.
i hope so, desperately.
because there are so many wishes now.
there are so many smiles i keep remembering.
so many laughs i can hear in my memory.
you were one of kind, love.

i still don't know what to say out loud. i don't know what to say... at all, really.
i loved you. i really did.
and you were a great kisser.
and you were you.
and that was the best legacy you could leave.

i miss you.
i miss you.

n coastal hwy

2009-07-19T20:02:00.000-07:00

this morning i woke up late, just after 9 am. i stretched my sore body, smiling when i thought of the platform heels, the dancing, the anxiety and excitement that had tensed each muscle. the sun streamed through the window and shimmered over the white dress at the foot of my bed.

i got up and looked at the still intact curls my hair had held for hours, decided against fighting them and pulled on a swimsuit. my steps echoed in the empty house as i walked down to the first floor and into the kitchen to scavenge for coffee - a fresh pot from earlier that morning stared me in the face and i warmed it up, suddenly remembering the medium sized dunkin donuts coffee i had downed in one sip, almost as an afterthought, merely minutes before the ceremony less than twenty four hours before.

i laid by the pool, listening to the bubbling pond running through a meticulously maintained garden - the bride’s mother spends her free time outside as much as possible. The entire house feels like a vacation oasis. the sun warms my skin and birds chirp around me. i can see why they loved this area enough to have thier big day down here.

after a few hours, some good conversation with family members who began coming home for some day-after breakdown and relaxation, a quick jump in the pool and a lazy afternoon lunch, it was time to head back to reality. i went upstairs and packed up the sparkling earrings, gathered the chiffon layered dress, and all the bobby pins and makeup and girly things we had frenetically thrown in bags and purses for the journey from salon to church to reception and back.

a quick hug all around, and i jumped in the car. no tears for this goodbye. yesterday i had looked at my dear friends, now united, now not just him and her but officially and legally them, and tears had come when i thought about all the love, all the time spent planning that had come to fruition, all the meaning behind each word and action of that day. tears of joy. tears of love.

i turned on my GPS. Something felt so different. Was I different? I felt out of place. Like some part of me needed something more. The last time I had felt this way I had contemplated a change of pace, a change of location. My GPS informed me that the road i had turned onto was north coastal highway. the coast - something the bride and groom loved so intensely. something i loved so much, i had told the world it illuminated me and my life and my thoughts. and yet, somehow, i had let myself become un-illuminated. i had spent so much time, so many months without seeing my beloved coast.

with windows rolled down and a good beat on the radio, i breathed in salt air. the sun was setting and golden streaks highlighted the highway home. i thought again about the beautiful day before, the comforting conversations with friends, the amazing memories we made.

i turned up the radio, and took the illuminated coastal highway home.

fountain of youth

2009-06-02T17:20:00.000-07:00

the night i turned 17, i specifically remember planning out the next ten years of my life.

i believe the reason it made sense to me then was because 27 seemed a perfect goal age - i was sure that by that time, i would be well on my way towards being awesome in every way. i was sure i would have the dream job [which at that time involved a newspaper career in some capacity], i would be beautiful, i would finally be able to afford to dress myself the way i knew i wanted to dress and i would have the best shade of blonde hair money could buy. i also knew that by 27, i would have left all silly boys behind in college and after having a few years of my pick of amazing men i would be most likely seriously dating The One, and getting married at that time would give me a few years to enjoy us being awesome together before we had our amazing child [yes, singular].

i remember having this stream of thoughts as i lay in between two of my best friends at the time, the three of us having stayed up chatting about how "old" we were now and how college was coming so soon. they had fallen asleep, but in my typical way, i had managed to be seduced by moonlight and quiet and my mind had come to life as i basked in the soft white glow. i knew, i just knew that the next decade was going to be so important.

well. that night, specific and clear in my mind, was almost eight years ago. i have two years left before the perfect age. and i've never been more unclear as to what 27 is going to look like.

here is what i do know.
i know that i am still searching for the perfect shade of blonde hair [and i think it's a little like ponce de leon and his search for the fountain of youth, read:unattainable].
i know that i do love expensive and pretty things. i often find myself googling purses and shoes that have price tags a lot of people would blush at. and i've jested aloud that my adoration for the très chic would be my reason for marrying for money.
but it's hard for me to justify paying for them when i've lived in countries where the cost of my coffee habit for a month could pay for someone's whole monthly income.
i know that i did leave a lot of silly boys behind me. but i also know i share responsibility in the heartache and wasted time and attention those relationships cost me. i know that i'm scared of repeating mistakes that i flamboyantly made when i was younger and didn't have as many fears.
i know now that there are times i have absolutely no idea who i am meant to be. i dream still. i hope always. but the path feels much narrower now than it did before, when it seemed to stretch out into a golden horizon. and while this could be a sign of maturity [at best] or a sign of depression [at worst], i still yearn and pray for that perfect opportunity to be more than myself. to be something, no, to be a part of something that is epic.
i know that i'm still only 24 [okay, almost 25]. and that anyone older than me is shaking their head like they would at a child who spouts self-centered sentiment [which i am fully aware is warranted]. what i also know is that i'm tired of only thinking of myself.

i know that i want to love. i want to give out of myself until i know i'm not giving just to look good or to have others compliment me - i want to give when it hurts and when i am not prepared for it and when i would rather be sleeping [because sleep is my current favorite hobby, third only to reading and kissing ... although judging by the amount of books on my bedside table, it's pretty obvious i've only been reading and sleeping in my free time as of late].
i know i want to give hope to those who live the mundane lives of no expectations.
i know i need to know more, to see more and to hear more ... but that i don't need to do all that to simply start being more.

if i could go back to that night when i laid there, merely a seventeen year old with surface dreams and a bad case of insomnia, i wouldn't. i needed to believe i would be amazing. i needed to be able to look back and, bittersweetly, know that there was a time when i was so certain it was so simple.

i know now that life is complex. we change, we grow out of necessity, we mature when we fall down and when our vision and passions die like seeds in the ground, and when we realize our decisions impact more than just ourselves and when disappointment washes over us.
and it then seems to rain over us.
and then, there is a day, a string of sunshine days, when someone speaks to us and we remember our former dreams of greatness. the seeds crack. the tiny roots peek out.
i know now that my former vision never had roots. it never had fallen, never been pushed underground, never been rained on and never had to force it's way out of the shell it had been hiding in.

today will be one of those specifically clear days. i sat outside after a storm and watched the springtime sun warm every bit of earth, watched it dry away the puddles and saw the flowers reopen and bask in the streaming rays that reached them.
and it was then i knew that, maybe not it two years, maybe not in five years, maybe not ever, would i have that perfect life i had dreamed for myself those years ago.

but i can push myself out of this shell. i can take the years of rain, i can take the piled up disappointment and let my real dreams, my hidden visions grow and live and be.

that is what i know now.

pay attention.

2009-03-31T08:25:00.000-07:00

i have been lazy.
this sentiment is true in every aspect of my life. both mundane and serious...
i haven't made my bed in weeks... because i have been lazy.
instead of doing laundry, i just wear every piece of clothing i own... because i have been lazy [i think i'm good for another week, too].
i got a haircut that doesn't require me to actually do my hair in the morning... because i have been lazy.
i have no excuses for not working out... because i have been lazy.

and, most internally crushing of all, i have no reason for people to expect more from me or to look to me as some type of Christ-centered bastion of hope. Because i have been lazy.

i'm not content to live that way any longer. it could be that simply existing isn't enough any more. that simply being the church girl won't cut it. that breezy mentions of my faith need to be backed up by a life that shows i'm working towards something. a reflection of that faith that offers more, even if it is harder.
because who would want to be a part of something a lazy person can do? why change? why listen? why pay attention at all?

if i'm not motivated by my own life, how can anyone else be?
i'm resolved.
pay attention - i'm going to show you something you ain't seen yet...

sex, paul and me

2009-02-10T06:01:00.000-08:00

at my church we have been talking about sex. that's right, we've been engaging in discussions about sex, in church, on sunday. it's been fabulous.

i decided to read 1 corinthians 7, which is a chapter in the Bible i've read numerous times. these talks we've been having, however, have sort of given me "new eyes" as i've been reading different parts of scripture. in the middle of the chapter [verse 17, to be exact] i read words that spoke volumes to me...
"And don't be wishing you were someplace else or with someone else. Where you are right now is God's place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there. God, not your marital status, defines your life."

those were paul's words to his friends. he recognized the struggles and pain some of them were having with trying to be content and wanted them to realize the value of where they were and who they were.
i would love to have heard him speak these words.
because it's not even about being married [i currently have no desire for that for a while... ]. it's about knowing that if i'm following the voice of God, that where i am is exactly where he wants me. and that can be my fullfillment. my contentment.

come out next sunday if you are curious... i bet it will be the best church service you ever attend...

;)

broken dreams and love stories.

2009-02-01T00:16:00.000-08:00

today, the melancholy rolled in.

it's been chilling every inside part of me. and then here i end up, sitting in a picture window staring at the moon, staring and asking myself what i should do.

and i find myself needing distractions and noise to drown out the rising fears. and when i have gone and laughed with and amused others, and when all the music finally stops playing, i become... the most introverted version of myself.

i leave for long drives with no set destination. i find myself in store aisles staring at things i don't need and never buy. i contemplate being impulsive and leaving on trips or cutting my hair.

but, never fail, once the hand strikes the hours past midnight, i sit here in this pool of moonlight. the icy snow outside reminds me of the chills i have in my fingers and feet and knees and throat and heart.

and i have consulted all the best lyricists, and they have had some good things to say. some great ones have reminded me not to expect victory marches, but to expect coldness creeping over the good. they have commiserated the pain of dreaming with a broken heart and the pain of having someone else who is just dreaming of revelry. pop princesses have told me it's okay to expect broken hearts, but painted with whispers the swirls and delicate strokes of love stories.

i have read the great stories of love's tragedy and love's victory. of betrayal and loyalty, of trust and deceit and good and great and terrible.

i want all these words to make it all more clear. to make my mind work better. to bring sweet sleep with it's magic. i want to see a path with no pain, with no questions, and with no fear.

the moonbeams fall around me and i hug myself tighter, arms wrapped together around my knees, desperate for warmth.

name that.

2009-01-17T21:18:00.000-08:00

I discovered a game I very much like.
Listed below are 15 quotes from movies I love. I'd like to see if you can identify them or if indeed I like too many obscure films...
First person to name all 15 wins.
Go...

1. "Sub-question: is it in fact unfair to criticize a formerly great artist for his latter day sins... is it better to burn out or fade away?"

2. "Did you know that if you mix equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate you can make napalm?"

3. "$38 for a Christmas tree and they don't deliver? You order $10 worth of chow mein from Mr. Wong they bring it to your door."

4. "He drove a Corvette in "The Magician", a Ford pickup truck in "The Incredible Hulk", and in "The Courtship of Eddie's Father"... he walked."

5. "Are we like couples you see in restaurants? Are we the dining dead?"

6. "What's it like... to be stupid?"

7. "She... left me tonight which is - she never does that and then I was kidnapped. And then, she... usually when I go home with her she... she makes me a turkey sandwich when I get home, but I might never get home, you know? And I'm so tired... Is that a turkey sandwich?"

8. "That's why her hair is so big, it's full of secrets."

9. "Don't stay in here all day. I had to take the batteries out of the carbon monoxide detector; it was beeping all night."

10. "No! I'm madly in love with you and it's not because of your brains or your personality."

11. I'm over here in my unit, isolated and alone, eating my terrible tasting food, and I have to look over at that. That looks like the most fun I've ever seen in my entire life, and it's B.S. - excuse my language. I'm just saying that I wash and dry; I'm like a single mother. Look, we all know home-ec is a joke - no offense - it's just that everyone takes this class to get an A, and it's bulls___ - and I'm sorry. I'm not putting down your profession, but it's just the way I feel. I don't want to sit here, all by myself, cooking this s____y food - no offense - and I just think that I don't need to cook tiramisu. Am I going to be a chef? No. There's three weeks left of school, give me a f____' break! I'm sorry for cursing.

12. "Is that everything? It seemed like he said quite a bit more than that."

13. "I know what stomach cancer looks like. I've seen it, and you don't eat three cheeseburgers a day with french fries when you got it."

14. On September 3rd 1973, at 6:28pm and 32 seconds, a bluebottle fly capable of 14,670 wing beats a minute landed on Rue St Vincent, Montmartre.

15. "I think if Gandhi had to spend a prolonged amount of time with you, he'd end up beating the s___ out of you, too."

city girl

2009-01-09T22:36:00.000-08:00

It has always intrigued me when someone tells me they are not a city person. I am usually dumbfounded at such a comment. Recently a coworker wrinkled their face when I mentioned how much I missed a certain city I used to reside in.

“Ugh,” He said. “I can’t stand being in cities.”

This is unbelievable to me.

I do not feel alive, really truly alive, without the heartbeat of a city throbbing around me. I need the early coffee shop outings, morning commutes, downtown hustle and bustle, uptown drinks and conversations and all surrounding culture of a modern city. I need the working women in suits and running shoes, the panhandlers with gap toothed smiles and hipsters with their built-in starbucks cups.

Being encompassed by heaps of cultures and societal groups and diversity of all kinds – that is what feeds my soul. And yet, there are those who would rather sit in the middle of nowhere, listen to crickets and stare at the sky. They feel whole in those moments.

I first moved to a big city when I turned 14. My parents and I headed east to a former soviet city on the brink of western superstardom. The capital we lived in contained five million people, a communist built subway and transit system and sufficient daily adventures for all. I was given a huge amount of freedom, traversing across and around the city with perhaps a friend or two or ten.

Then, at age 17, I moved to the Midwestern city of Minneapolis. Vastly different from the sprawling eastern European city I had grown up in, I suffered shock that there was no subway and no cheap taxi system. I quickly discovered all the best coffee bars, the best independent theaters and music venues and the little known secrets that were the answer of such important questions like, “where is the best food after midnight?”

At the age of 22 I left and found myself in a typical suburban area. Malls, movie theaters, fast food joints. Chain stores. Housing developments. It seems like every single place I’ve visited manages to make me feel a little more sad. I turned 23 after a few months, and didn’t visit any museum special show, made no attempt to hear a new local band.

I recently turned 24, and have been in suburbia with my heart stuck on pause for a little over a year. And the question is, do I follow my soul to where I feel it needs to be to continue growing and existing? Or am I simply not accepting the normalcy of this common life that supports thousands of people everyday? Do I have to choose to change and find I was wrong or naïve, or choose to stay and find I have regrets?

I suppose I’ll sit here in my normal little house, in my suburban housing development, and sleep on it.

modern art

2008-12-29T01:58:00.000-08:00

Flaubert, a 19th century French writer, was often said to spend hours as he wrote in his endless search for "le mot juste" ["the right word"]. A hundred and fifty years later, I’m staring at a digital piece of paper and thinking that if there is nothing else similar between the great writer and myself, I share his pain. I have wracked my brain for nearly two years, simply trying to start writing, simply trying to sort out what words and phrases could ever convey to you all that I have inside of me. After so much time, the only thing I knew is I simply had to begin somewhere. I sat down and put pen to paper [so to speak, that is - in actuality I have merely typed out and then deleted all the false starts. Even now, I am considering if starting this paragraph discussing another author is somewhat pretentious. Then again, it’s the pretentious side of me that believes you are still somehow reading]. In retrospect, perhaps physically writing out these words would have been more concrete, as i have now started my novel approximately 20 different ways, every day, for the past six months. Every day I have found myself looking upon some inconsequential moment and thinking perhaps this is the one that will generate transcendental words you will be compelled to read. Each faux beginning found it’s inspiration of one sort or another, whether from drowsy minutes spent brushing my teeth, daydreams that washed over me while staring at the massive crowds of people in the mall, cloudy wonderings written during insomnia-driven late night adventures and of course, forgotten questions I’ve asked just before sleep overtakes me at early morning hours.

The reason for so many false starts is simple - i am obsessed with the perfect beginning. Without just the right starting point at just the right time in just the right situation, this will all drift into meaningless inconsequentiality. And so, like Flaubert, I struggle. Because, ultimately, these words need to be brilliant. In the most fantastic case scenario, you will read everything on this page and the next and the next and soon find yourself illuminated to other thoughts and other ideas you had not found or discovered before. It’s a tall order. Sometimes I wonder if I am merely another typical writer, so consumed in her own struggle. Because, the obsession is really a strangling hold that my inability has taken on my brain. Please don’t think that this is being overdramatic. Entire books have been written, for writers, on how writing is painful and terrible and yet cathartic and beautiful. And that is all well and good, but I don’t want to be another writer trolling Barnes & Noble’s flipping through The Writer’s Market, wondering if perhaps I should choose a different genre and maybe I should change protagonists and worrying over how I could ever hope to get published and theorizing if it’s possible I can market myself well.

Friends of mine [who are wholly untrustworthy, as they are biased and prone to reassurance] seem to think that it’s morally wrong of me to not write at all. Being forced, then, to compose some sort of literature has brought even more stress into an already tense situation. Put bluntly, this whole issue is a little tricky, because my standards are probably higher than both theirs and yours. Sorry. I swear it’s not just my taste in literature. Art in general is where I specialize in critique. Film, dance, music – I am at my happiest moments when evaluating other’s attempts. Writers, those who dare to have dabbled in my chosen art form, can find the critic in me especially tough. I’m pretty judgmental [ and truth be told, I only like mostly non-fiction novels from the best of the best].

All pretention aside, I seem to pick as my favorites those writers who sound like they listen to a lot of great music and perhaps smoke pot and have lived a little and seen enough to make the best sort of metaphors out of the most simple life occurrences. And in those words, whether from the influence of illegal substances or not, it is out of the simple things they find themselves doing, that they write cultural masterpieces of imagery and description and exposition.

i do not smoke pot. As a critic of literary form, I cannot compete with these authors. I listen to decent, hopefully good music, mostly of the contemporary independent sort. I have the misfortune of having been born in the mid 80's, which means i was too young to appreciate any truly good music that was created during my lifetime. Even late 80's pop and early nineties grunge happened to occur during my early childhood. My entry into music scenes of any sort coincided with the rise of Hanson, The Spice Girls and N'Sync. By college, I had finally discovered alternative venues into music. And yes, rock and roll has saved my soul [and continues to do so]. Aside from the written word, music is perhaps the single most important element of my being.

I wouldn’t focus so much on writing and literature, but that [honestly] is the singular avenue where my talent [any and all] exists. Trust me; I’ve tried other forms of expression. The half finished painting on a cheap easel in my bedroom and the used Washburn guitar in the corner of my living room remind me every day that I am and will always be a writer. The eclectic and trendy artist and the hipster rock star exist only in my dreams. The only truth that I know is in written word, from my mind to your eyes, all in Trebuchet 12 point font. I’m confident in that, and that alone.

So, now, you find yourself asking [that is if you are really still reading?], just what type of writer are you exactly, miss?

You might as well have asked a postmodern poster child who they are.

There weren’t enough writing classes in my university to answer that question. And having misspent the past two years as no writer at all, I am in no position to answer you now. Being a woman complicates the whole writer thing. After all, we know that 24 year old middle class white women aren’t supposed to create realist or humanist essays on contemporary modern culture. I should be crafting short novels in the only two genres women of my age and background are allowed to succeed at – feminist manifestos and bubble gum chick lit [my sincere apologies to the few writers who have had underground success at other genres. Perhaps I too can one day enjoy being… well, I suppose famous isn’t the right word. Will I at least get invites to parties once I’m a card carrying published writer?]. Simply put, I don’t want to publish a book that has pink anywhere on the cover or a storyline that in any way illustrates the problems facing girls who live in either Manhattan or London and spend too much money on labels and shoes but somehow find love by the last chapter. Nor do I want to write about men abusing power and pushing women down and use words like objectify or misogynist.

I want to write about us. About you and me and the things we have all done and still do and all the dreams and hopes we have that there’s more coming.

And, at least from me, there is. These words have become my beginning. Perhaps there is not a single “juste mot” anywhere in sight, but I’ve begun. And having done so, I must continue till the end.

each day i choose...

2008-12-26T21:19:00.000-08:00

it is midnight on the day after christmas.

the darkness seems somehow comforting, as i sit in a room lit only by the gentle twinkle of white lights on a tree wrapped in gold ribbon and sprinkled with shiny red, ivory and gold ornaments of all kinds.

the night is quiet. i find myself breathing slow, deep, steady.

today i was content. when others were frantic, i helped restore calm. when smiles were needed, i beamed with joy. when words turned sour, i found a kind reply.

the hustle and bustle has finally ceased, and before it begins again tomorrow, i am thankful that today, despite it all, i am calm. i am at peace. i am content.

and in my silent words of praise and prayer, i am most thankful for the reason. i am most thankful that i have discovered the root of my past despair, and that i have now devoted myself to the solution.
and for that i bow my head in gratitude and dedication.

i find myself content, because i know that this is not the end. these days that have felt stagnant and frozen and stiff were merely signs that i am meant for more, for another place and another journey.

the fireplace crackles softly, glowing with warmth. it is merely a physical reminder of the glow i feel within, having made a decision and setting my mind to it.

and though i may feel the hesitation and apprehension of change, i am content in the knowledge that i am meant for more, that i have so much yet to do.

i am thankful, grateful, peaceful and, yes, content, this christmas.

may you too find that the spirit of the season brings peace and joy for today, tomorrow and the new year.

--

When God Whispers Your Name - By Max Lucado

It's quiet. It's early. My coffee is hot. The sky is still black. The world is still asleep. The day is coming.

In a few moments, the day will arrive. It will roar down the track with the rising of the sun. The stillness of the dawn will be exchanged for the noise of the day. The calm of solitude will be replaced by the pounding of the human race. The refuge of the early morning will be invaded by decisions to be made and deadlines to be met.

For the next twelve hours I will be exposed to the day's demands. It is now I must make a choice. Because of Calvary, I'm free to choose. And so I choose.

I CHOOSE LOVE…

No occasion justifies hatred;
no injustice warrants bitterness. I choose love.
Today I will love God and what God loves.

I CHOOSE JOY…

I will invite my God to be the God of circumstance.
I will refuse the temptation to be cynical…
the tool of the lazy thinker. I will refuse to see
people as anything less than human beings,
created by God. I will refuse to see any problem as
anything less than an opportunity to see God.

I CHOOSE PEACE…

I will live forgiven. I will forgive so that I may live.

I CHOOSE PATIENCE…

I will overlook the inconveniences of the world.
Instead of cursing the one who takes my place, I'll
invite him to do so. Rather than complain that the
wait is too long, I will thank God for a moment
to pray. Instead of clenching my fist at new
assignments, I will face them with joy and courage.

I CHOOSE KINDNESS…

I will be kind to the poor, for they are alone.
I will be kind to the rich, for they are afraid. And kind to
the unkind, for such is how God has treated me.

I CHOOSE GOODNESS…

I will go without a dollar
before I take a dishonest one. I will be overlooked
before I will boast. I will confess before I will
accuse. I choose goodness.

I CHOOSE FAITHFULNESS…

Today I will keep my promises.
My debtors will not regret their trust. My associates
will not question my word. My wife will not
question my love. And my children will never fear
that their father will not come home.

I CHOOSE GENTLENESS…

Nothing is won by force. I choose to be gentle.
If I raise my voice, may it be only in praise.
If I clench my fist, may it only be in prayer.
If I make a demand, may it only be of myself.

I am a spiritual being…
After this body is dead, my spirit will soar.
I refuse to let what will rot rule the eternal.
I choose self-control. I will be drunk only by joy.
I will be impassioned only by my faith.
I will be influenced only by God.
I will be taught only by Christ.
I choose self-control.

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness,
faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
To these I commit my day.
If I succeed, I will give thanks.
If I fail, I will seek His grace.
And then, when this day is done,
I will place my head on my pillow
and rest.

sleepless.

2008-12-17T00:07:00.000-08:00

We cannot discover new oceans until we have the courage to lose sight of the shore.
- Muriel Chen

If we wait for the moment when everything, absolutely everything, is ready, we shall never begin.
- Ivan Turgenev

The moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.
- Goethe

change is a scary, big monster that lives in the dark unknown shadow of your bedroom.
deciding to change is turning on the light and seeing that all the greatness you already had is waiting for you to find it in the corner.
- amy sturgeon

defined.

2008-12-05T07:04:00.000-08:00

A writer is anyone who creates a written work, although the word usually designates those who write creatively or professionally, as well as those who have written in many different forms. The word is almost synonymous with author, although somebody who writes, for example, a laundry list, could technically be called the writer of the list, but not an author. Skilled writers are able to use language to portray ideas and images, whether fiction or non-fiction.

A writer may compose in many different forms including (but certainly not limited to) poetry, prose, or music. Accordingly, a writer in specialist mode may rank as a poet, novelist, composer, lyricist, playwright, mythographer, journalist, film scriptwriter, etc. (See also: creative writing, technical writing and academic papers.)

Writers' output frequently contributes to the cultural content of a society, and that society may value its writerly corpus -- or literature -- as an art much like the visual arts (see: painting, sculpture, photography), music, craft and performance art (see: drama, theatre, opera, musical).
- wikipedia

it's hard to call yourself a writer when you find yourself unsure of how to write what you want to write.
i need to break the block.
any ideas?

for the record.

2008-11-30T22:03:00.001-08:00

how could i possibly expect anyone to understand the view from inside my head?

and yet, that is the motivation that drives me as a writer. the hope that someone, anyone could grasp my thoughts and understand my passion and forgive my lies and crave knowing my dreams.

i recently turned 24. which is about five years older than i ever thought i would be when i was growing up.
and even on the days i might have thought i'd one day be this age, i thought i would surely be... someone.

and, yet, here i stand.
unsure of who i am. unsure of who this person i am will ever become.

i want to believe the words i've been told. that there is something big waiting.
that there is more. that i could be more.
i know who others have told me i am called to be.
and, like a fading sunset, i can remember being called.

today i asked myself what i was afraid of... what was holding me back? what was keeping me from launching out of this never ending twilight? what was chaining me down so heavily?

there have been so many times i thought i was ready before.
so many moments i had thought were the one.
i'm hesitating to make any statements or stake any claims...
i'm scared to go on the record as saying
that this is it. this is the real beginning.

but, god knows, i want it to be.

grandma amy wants bangs.

2008-11-06T16:55:00.000-08:00

often, i feel that moments of my life play out as if someone were scripting a screenplay.
if not a screenplay, perhaps some other sort of play. maybe a small, off-off-off broadway show.
a friend decided there should be a new universal studios 3D ride called "the amy sturgeon experience."

earlier tonight i found myself in a usual cliche' moment.
it didn't start out so ... trite.
after all, there i was, lounging on the sofa, in front of my fireplace with a beautiful faux fur blanket and drinking hot apple cider.

and i know you are thinking, that doesn't sound so bad.

but that wasn't all...
i was also wearing my glasses, crocheting a scarf.
and.. and then my cat came and laid on my lap.
hello. am i 78 years old?

in other news,
i think that when i crave change, i crave change in every way possible.
it comes in waves.
the initial wave is very shallow and self-centered.
first i start to contemplate my hair.
bangs? new color? extensions?
if my need for change is not satiated, my focus turns to bigger things.
overall changes [should i tan? should i eat only raw foods?].

you know what i know, right?
that these "surface" feelings are really substitutes for bigger questions.
and if i let them go long enough, the heavy, real need for change starts to appear.
do i like where i'm living?
do i like what i'm doing with my time
do i do enough for the people around me?

do i like who i'm becoming?

and no matter what i do, bangs or not, i have a feeling that will be a question that stays with me for a while. . .

2008-11-04T21:17:00.000-08:00

for some reason, there are words i can't seem to get out of my head.
i had them inside when i woke up yesterday morning, and i think they are going to be my anthem for as long as i can keep them jumping around inside of me.
those words are the lyrics to tim myers' song 'brand new day'
and they go something like this:

Boomp3.com

Wake up
Open your sleepy eyes
Stretch out
Make up the bed now
Sunlight
Kissing your face again
Breakfast
Coffee is waiting
n
Soap up
Rinse all your cares away
Toothbrush
Keeping your mouth clean
Dress up
Walk out the front door
Turn on the radio talk show

Oh, this is a brand new day
Oh, and it's getting better every single way
Oh, this is brand new day
Oh, and I'm feeling better when you say
"love"

Midnight
Turn off the TV
Cold feet
It's getting chilly
Warm up
Put on a blanket
Tall glass of milk and cookies

Lay back
Turn all the lights out
Moon beams
Shine on the windows
Slip down
Into a good dream
Sun sleeps
Morning is waiting

Oh, this is a brand new day
Oh, and it's getting better every single way
Oh, this is brand new day
Oh, and I'm feeling better when you say
"love"

Simple things
Is what life's made of
Happiness
Is not that hard to find
I'm in love
And I'm so unmoving in this sand of life

Oh, this is a brand new day
Oh, and it's getting better every single way
Oh, this is brand new day
Oh, and I'm feeling better when you say
"love"

failing at normal

2008-10-27T21:35:00.000-07:00

In a small little house on a winding street in a simple corner of a normal city, a light flicked on. The glow crept out a window through a gauzy layer of chiffon.
Nearly no one chanced to notice it, unless they happened to look at that particular window. Of the few who did, only one or two looked closer and seemed to hear a faint tip-tap-tapping coming through the single pane of glass. No one seemed to know if the light ever went off or when the clicking started or stopped. By the time the next evening started to grow dark, the window glowed again. And again the next night. And the tapping, which came in a rhythm not unlike a pair of expensive pumps on the sidewalk, kept on for hours.
The weather started to change. Trees smudged themselves with rusty colors and the wind blew drops of their color into piles on the fading grass.
Clouds rolled in.
Sunlight turned grey.
Cold days turned into rainy autumn nights. The dark made the light seem somehow brighter, and one night, for the first time, a small shadow found itself framed on the sill. The pointy ears and curved tail were unmistakable, as a tiny face appeared and licked at a drop of rain, the rosy pink nose chasing the trail it made down the glass.
The rain dripped down a wood trellis, sliding onto the front porch and pooling on the nearby stone steps. Reflected in the growing puddles were both the growing shadows and the lone light from the small bedroom. Hours ticked by, until finally, finally in the wee hours of the morning the small light suddenly flicked off.
No one had noticed it when it was there. No one noticed it now that it was gone.
But something was different, and everyone could taste it in the air.

the broken oak

2008-10-08T21:07:00.000-07:00

in the novel atlas shrugged, a character details the moment he felt most betrayed during his adolescence. it wasn't what you might suspect - no backstabbing best friends or selfish parents or misdirected first loves.
instead, he shares the story of finding an epic gnarled oak gripping a hilltop. it's roots seemed to hold the hill up, as if the tree could grab the earth and swing it around. it was this tree that seemed to him to be eternal, forever, the symbol itself of stability.
then a storm came, and in just a flash of lightning, the tree was gone.
he found himself looking at a shell of trunk and branches, and a tunnel of blackness where the inside of the tree should have been.
without the strength of the internal, the shape on the outside wasn't enough to stand.

i've felt like a shell of what i should be for a while.
it's time to find the strength of what i should have internally.
it's time to find the strength to stand.

day in. day out.

2008-09-26T21:03:00.000-07:00

there are days i wonder if there is some part of me that is constantly sabotaging myself.
as if just when i finally am about to have it nearly all together, a small woman in some attic corner of my mind pushes a big red button and my whole self seemingly goes on the blink.

one week. literally seven days is all it took for me to find a way to set myself up, live up to the reputation i've given my own person, and fall back apart.

it's funny how we live our lives. we all have these circles we move in, these routinely familiar paths of our days in and days out.
and it's taken for granted. the day we finally find some change, we are either elated or devastated.
change brings the good and the bad, the mountain top and the valley floor, the bliss and the tragedy.

and here i sit at the seat of decision.
i hold in one hand the warmth of someone else's. the memory of his touch. the brush of his lips.
i hold in the other a brimming cup of bittersweet goodbye.

here's to change.

other voices, other rooms

2008-09-05T21:03:00.000-07:00

twenty years.
it seems to me that i will be in my forties before i know if i'm going to be seriously something worth considering or not.
i say this simply because it seems that it takes just about twenty years, give or take some, for someone to move from being a little famous, to being appreciated, to being epic.

take harper lee.
harper lee was a smalltown girl. friends with the in-crowd. held conversations with the intelligentisa of her day. capote. willams. warhol. vedal.
one book in the sixties became her contribution.
she won an award.
she became highly discussed.
and by the eighties she was required reading in schools.

so what are my plans?
what are your plans?
if we could be epic in twenty years, and if forty is the new twenty... we could really change the world, and still have a ton of time to do it all over again.

what i would give to have a circle of friends like ms. lee.
to hear the ruminations and obscure thoughts of the creative revolutionaries of my generation.

independent... read: worthwhile

2008-08-19T21:32:00.000-07:00

"Vanessa Wetherhold: You should really make your bed. It sets the tone for the day.
   Chuck Wetherhold: But, how do you know what tone I was trying to set?
   - smart people

   Igby: Oliver is majoring in neo-fascism at Colombia.
   Oliver: Economics.
   Igby: Semantics.
   - igby goes down"

relatively obscure, limited release, cleverly written screenplays.
these are the films that i get addicted to time and time again.

the issue is that it seems the majority of clever films, from what i have observed, are written by people who are cynical and full of sarcasm and who get off on the perfect cutting yet witty remark in a dialogue. they derive their humor from increasingly unfortunate and often tragic human interactions and their heart from the unavoidable wretchedness of life.

these movies are "real."
but they can be huge downers.

perhaps it is also to blame that people who have creative aspirations or sensitivities often find themselves creating works of art that cause other artists to fall into a downward spiral when they discover such creations.
the writer in me falls apart when i think of these precious gems that were not only mined from some spectacular dark and rich-laden cavern of a mind and soul, but that they were also cut to perfection.
it drives me to tears.
because i, too, want to craft something so smart and sharp and clever and brilliant.
i, too, want to be a part of something that others take parts of and fawn over.

"Laura: [reading] Top five dream jobs -
1. NME journalist, 1976-1979 - Get to meet the Clash, Sex Pistols, Chrissie Hynde, Danny Baker etc. Get loads of free records - good ones too. Go on to host my own radio show or something.
2. Producer, Atlantic REcords, 1964-1971 (approx)
Get to meet Aretha, Wilson Pickett, Solomon Burke etc. Get loads of free records (probably) - good ones too.
3. Any kind of musician (apart from classical or rap)
Speaks for itself. But I'd have settled just for being one of the Memphis Horns - I'm not asking to be Hendrix or Jagger or Otis Redding
4. Film director
Again, any kind, although preferably not German or silent.
5. Architect. [stops reading.]
Really? An architect?
Rob: A surprise entry at number 5, I know, but I used to be quite good at technical drawing at school.
Laura: Wouldn't you rather own your own record store?
Rob: I suppose.
- high fidelity "

hope.

2008-08-18T00:54:00.000-07:00

certain things never cease to amaze me.

[it's true that i haven't posted for two months, which is the longest amount of time in nearly five years that i have not written something and i felt the coldness creeping in... so it was about time.]

of all the things that just come naturally to me, there are three that i hope never change.

first, i pray that i never lose my academic knowledge. in fact i have been contemplating continuing my studies.
i say this because the other day a friend of mine whose knowledge is also extensive commented on a particular word choice of mine by using the word out of context. my quick response was that if he wished to discuss deconstructive theory at a different time i would be open to that.

second, the amount of insight i have into films of all genres, but mostly of quality direction, production and art - i hope it continues to grow. nothing brings a glow to my heart quite like someone naming a director and being able to name the films he's done... or vice versa. nor does anything taste quite like an aptly chosen quote.

and lastly, but most importantly, i trust that i will never be able to stop myself from using my solid background in theology to comment on those around me.
not to make hypocritical, or demeaning or holier-than-thou comments. ish. never.
but to just interject with ones i believe make sense.

the other day a friend mentioned that he felt that he needed to go to confession.
i wasn't brought up catholic, but i am aware of the practices of the church.

"why go to confession?" i asked.
"i just have done some things i feel bad about."
"why not just pray?"
he looked at me quizzically.
i simply stated two things. one - Catholics believe that the pope is god's representative on earth, and accordingly that those in church hierarchy [bishops, priests] are channels to God. Christians, however, believe that with Christ's sacrifice of death on the cross, he did away with the separation that sin gave us from God. In that way, we no longer have to go through a man - we can speak directly with Him.
"I never thought of it like that. That makes sense." He nodded in understanding and affirmation.

I walked away and suddenly it occurred to me that i hadn't even thought about what i said. it just came out of me. i didn't mean to make any sort of theological statement. i just said what i know. what is written on the inside of my mind and flows through my soul.

it often bothers me when i hear people refer to christians in a negative way. mostly because i know too well that the people they think of as christians are people i think should go straight to hell.

because hell to me is a real and very frightening place.
it's not where some people think they are going to party or see friends. no. no.

i don't know how to comment on all of that really.

because every day for me is a constant struggle.
to be real, genuine, honest.
to live my faith.
to be hope.

starting now,,,

2008-07-10T08:37:00.000-07:00

steady as she goes...

2008-06-16T05:36:00.000-07:00

so, here it is.
today i leave on my big epic trip.

okay, not that epic.
but, i suppose it feels more so than usual because it's been a few years since i've traveled internationally.
it's strange to say that, when i used to be in and out of airports five or six times a year at the minimum.

in any case, today i leave for istanbul and moscow.
i'm hoping i packed well.
... you know i can never pack light.

and [just like I WOULD] i had nightmares last night.

not about planes crashing or anything of that sort.
i dreamt that my luggage got lost and i had to replace hundreds of dollars worth of cosmetics.
i refuse to say that i'm high maintenance, because i think that i can be a pretty chill hangout person.
but i did pay over fifty dollars for my mineral makeup at MAC. so...
i don't know what that makes me. =)

ANYway. I'm gone for two weeks - I'll return sometime between June 29-30.
I'll check my email [ajsturgeon@mac.com] so you can reach me there.

otherwise... i'll see you in a few.

peace/love

ology

2008-06-12T05:18:00.001-07:00

today i move into my new house.

but that is not really what i'm thinking about.
i'm strange, i suppose.
i know that most people would be consumed with moving and acquiring a new domain to live in.
but ... i just can't focus on it. i've tried.

instead, i'm thinking about an interaction i had lately.
a few coworkers sort of .... witnessed me having a crisis.
and i don't believe i handled it well at all.

let me put it to you, and you tell me your thoughts.

before i left work yesterday, a coworker just happened to mention that he couldn't believe in a book that was taken from a multitude of sources and then put together and called the "word of god."
i suppose i had some strange look on my face - that happens quite often. i have no poker-face abilities.
very quickly he and another coworker realized that i must have internally disagreed with his statement, because they tried to smooth it over.
but i just wanted to clear the air.
so i said,
"i went to a private school where i studied the history and text of scripture. and i could say a lot about all of that.
but that's not really the point. the point is who i am and who He was."

but i don't think it came out quite as well as it sounded in my head.

thoughts?

For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.
1 Corinthians 1:18

consequences.

2008-06-04T14:04:00.000-07:00

thursday - explored with an old friend. got decked out in heels and bling. out till 3 am watching the SATC movie. good times. great movie. better friends.

friday - slept. went on errands before going to hang out and celebrate graduations. didn't return till i walked in the door saturday morning at 6 am, after a night of food and good hangout time with friends, old and new.

saturday - in bed by 1 am, after working a nine hour shift.

sunday - church, work, out to dinner with friends. home by 11. in bed by 12.

monday - up earrrly. worked for nearly ten hours, came home and slept. left at 11 to see some friends. up till 2 am. woken by a cough.

tuesday - lazy morning. lost my voice. drank some tea. worked a late shift that got off at 3 am. sore throat. took nyquil and drenched my throat with chloraseptic.

wednesday. day off that i planned to spend packing. spent sucking down cough drops, drinking hot tea, and being drugged into slumber.

i was not made to burn both ends of the candle. at least... not this many days in a row. in the middle of a housing move. .......................

currently under a tornado watch,

xo

2008-05-20T09:16:00.000-07:00

i've thought of a number of things to blog about lately.

i wondered if anyone else had thought much about how chris noth lucked out to be the ultimate... well, to be "mr. big" on THE highest rated female-target cable television show turned chick flick blockbuster of the decade. because, like a lot of the men that i find myself attracted to, he's not... hot, persay. he's more... smouldering.

i thought about talking once more about the downswing of my rollercoaster living situation.
but who wants all that sadness?

i almost addressed how this summer will be the very first one that is ... not very summer feeling. as much as i love my job and as much effort as i am making to do summer-esque things, there's only so much that feels carefree and golden like summer should... when one day you wake up and you buy your own gas, you drop your own cash on the makeup and dresses and swimsuits, you find time in your full-time schedule for summer dinner parties and beach outings. i guess my point is... summer isn't carefree when you grow up and life isn't like the tv show The Hills. it's more... structured. and comfortable. and... you might end up wearing those heels and dresses to a rockband rockoff.
which is still a pretty fun night.

i could talk about being single.
or not.

i could digress about my hair. which i think has settled into a nice sunkissed brunette.

but instead... i'd like to know what you are doing with your time? where are you living? what are your summer plans? what is the last date you went on? are you counting down the days for SATC also? [it's okay if you are not...]

i'll be packing. for a move to somewhere, and for my upcoming trip to eastern europe... which isn't exciting me for some reason. so you should entertain me in the meantime.

okay?thxloveyoubye.....

the war

2008-05-19T07:56:00.000-07:00

Love is war
It looks like danger
Know me
not a stranger
Love is like a war
Who has pretty eyes
Love is a war
She makes you cry
- Isaac Moore

with shivering and trembling
with the awe of inspiration
and the fear of the unknown
when time is frozen and unstoppable
and words shatter and rhyme -
this is love.
- amy sturgeon

Scattered and Broken
Alive and Knows what's been
Who knows what's awoken
A favor from
Sleep
I write in this
Open up again
Hope dangles
Grab hold
Don't let them fall
- Issac Moore

a sparkle in the eye
lights the whole body...
the soul gathers a broken heart
and mends,
using the scarlet threads of hope and
the silver needle of fear and trembling,
to form a
fragile
delicate
heart-shaped hope.
passion grows
and the future holds
a shimmer
a sparkle in the eye.
- amy sturgeon

Know that I am the beginning
Know that I am the end
They will fight you
Only you
- Isaac Moore

she sits.
they walk past,
each taking a turn
to cut
to draw blood.
He waits.
He watches,
waiting for His chance
to love,
to mend all.
- amy sturgeon

I'll take this beautiful girl
and hide her from the world.
Why won't you trust me
Why can't you see I'm falling faster than you think
Open your eyes and know me
- Isaac Moore [save us!]

they dance,
swirling around a golden floor
while music dips and soars.
He spots the one she waits for,
and with perfect timing
He offers her hand -
and life begins.
- amy sturgeon

Take my hand
Make it ours.
life began
in one span
All life changed
without aim
- Isaac Moore

sunday morning smackdown...5/18/08

a song. a story. a headline.

2008-05-08T07:51:00.000-07:00

~

the house i grew up in was huge.
beautiful powder blue and white shutters, 6 bedrooms, 2 and 1/2 baths. two story. built specifically for my family, as the new residence for my father, the pastor of a church. i lived there from age 2 till just-turned-13.
so... in reality, we didn't own it. but it was our home.

we moved overseas, into a two bedroom apartment with large family room, dining room, living room, office and eat in kitchen. everything was very european. lots of rugs and water heaters and mismatched fabrics in a stained and grey soviet apartment high rise. it was a lovely, wonderful home for all of high school. not a house. but it was home.

i moved to college. the first dorm - too dark. depressing.
the second dorm - three different rooms in three years. the last year was the best - best roommate, best suite, best memories, best friends. it was a warm, comfy, girly, sparkly place to call ours. all those years living in an apartment made me realize houses were overrated.

i moved to an apartment. a duplex really. it was near-perfect, great location, huge rooms, lots of independence... but held up by too many crumbling factors. bad roommate. crazy landlords. too much time alone. i moved back east after a particularly bad week.

i've spent the past year in a two bedroom apartment. with my parents.
smaller than my duplex. but warm. comfy. home? sort of. more so than ye olde duplex.

this month my parents put a bid on a home.
MY parents. a real life home.
they asked me to live in it for them while they finish the next few years of their overseas term.
me? live in something they own? like... a house?
it's... permanent?

seriously? seriously!

it's sort of... not real.
after just making home wherever i am, the thought of an actual one...
i haven't had a permanent place to think of as home for... almost 12 years.

it's kind of a shock to the system.

~

in other news...

it's may?
it's one week into may?!
where did this past year go?

hopeless dreams?

2008-04-30T02:30:00.000-07:00

not that new.
but timely.

~~~

the clock strikes the hour
and i'm still awake.
waiting for my restless soul to settle
waiting for my tired heart to rest.

the only light illuminates only shadows
in my chosen prison
finding it harder to see who i am
finding it harder to see who you are

but i crave you
and without you this trivial body
dies in the face of all my vanity
dies in the light of all your deity

and the emptiness will last forever
without my willing surrender
so i stretch out my fingers toward yours...
and i find the only warmth, truth, rest and love.

alexithymia

2008-04-28T22:47:00.000-07:00

Don't try to wake me up
Even if the sun really does come out tomorrow.
Don't believe anything you say anymore in the mourn,
in the morning.

...
Are you where you thought
you would be?
So beautiful and only 23...
Opposition rests in the hearts with no, with no,
with no opportunity.

It's not that we don't talk,
It's just no one really listens
and honesty fades... like a politician
whose lost in the course, all smiles but no one remembers our names.

With downcast eyes, there's more to living that being alive...

Don't try to wake me up
even if the sun really does come out tomorrow
Don't believe anything
I say
anymore
in the mourn, in the morning.

~

today i had pictures taken
for my upcoming international travels which require visas.
so much lately has been making me crave escape.
so much lately has been chilling me, instead of warming me.

not that i can put my finger on it,
because most everything is going well.

but my heart...
it needs more. more than this.
i just pray it comes quickly.

~

a·lex·i·thy·mi·a

ice in my fingertips

2008-04-20T16:46:00.000-07:00

like a cold shiver, freezing slowly from the inside
sliding down down down my throat
down my arms
down my fingertips

pulling me down to the ground
pulling my face into my hands
and my shivers turn to the trembling
of silent tears

trying to turn the sadness to anger
trying to work up a rage instead...
asking myself.. i fell for... that?
i fell for... what?
but it all just seems so...

and that's just it.
the words are so quick to escape me
and i'm just left with the cold
holding myself to keep warm,
holding myself to hold someone.

top five.

2008-04-08T21:13:00.000-07:00

in the next thirty years...

top five places i want to live:

1. Paris
2. Seattle
3. A coastal city in California
4. London
5. Portland/Minneapolis

top five accomplishments i'd like to have:

1. published novel/memoir
2. completed term of mission or social service overseas
3. strong ties with family and friends
4. mastery of Adobe CS: design premium
5. one continuous haircolor

top five things i'd like to be known for:

1. genuine, steady faith
2. laughter
3. honesty
4. willingness to serve.
5. style

top five things i'd like to have in my home:

1. a writing/painting studio
2. orginal works by close friends
3. a worthwhile library
4. furniture that feels like home
5. an open door

top five things that would be nice to see happen:

1. become a well known public speaker.
2. marry the one...the one for me.
3. have a puppy. a bitty one.
4. have a baby. a bitty one.
5. have a rockstar worthy car.

Remember tonight, for it is the beginning of always.

2008-04-04T20:31:00.000-07:00

Then a woman said, Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When joy comes, look into your heart.
you will find that your source of joy is the same that brought you sorrow.
when sorrow comes, look again. see - truly you are weeping for that which was once your delight.
you say joy is greater, and another says no, sorrow is.

I say, they are inseparable.
Together they arrive,
when one sits alone with you at night,
remember the other is asleep on your bed.
in truth, you are hanging in the balance
between your sorrow
and your joy.
Only when you appreciate both
then you stand up right.

Khalil Gibran/Amy Sturgeon

april rains.

2008-04-01T20:22:00.000-07:00

it's raining. an early spring thunderstorm complete with balmy warm windy everything.

last year at about this time, i was in another rainstorm.
in highland park, st. paul, minnesota.
you can see a picture and storyline right here.

hard to believe that was a year ago.

spring days like this make me want to wander around late at night.
and i would. if i wasn't a girl.
last may, while i was still living in minneapolis, an old friend came to see me late one night. we went for a walk before driving out to lake nokomis and sitting on the banks till the early hours of the morning. not many words spoken, just the soft drift in and out of water rolling near, then pulling back again.

and now i'm back near my birthplace, near the place i called home for so many years, near the atlantic's chilly waves.
spring, with all it's beautifully wet storms and surprising days of sun, spring is calling me to the shore.
i need to hear the rhythym of the waves... feel the slow creep of the warmth, the soft grain of sand underfoot.

perhaps there is yet a reason for me to be here, in this place, at this time.

because everything's downhill after wednesday; ... it's the hump you have to get over.

2008-03-19T06:08:00.000-07:00

wednesday.

today i woke up with less than an hour to get ready before work.
you don't need an hour or more to get ready?
well... i do.
i've gotten into this bad habit of lounging in front of cnn or fox news for about an hour while i check my email and eat breakfast. then i finally get up to do my hair and makeup and get dressed. in all, it's about a two hour or less process.
because i'm not really high maintainence. i'm more like... super low maintainence.
i need time to get around to getting ready.
like for instance, i have about thirty minutes to be AT work right now.
but... i'm still trying to convince myself to brush my hair and find clothes.

ugh.

wednesday.

time to get over the hump, i suppose.

clover.

2008-03-17T20:17:00.000-07:00

i wish st. patrick's day was a national holiday. it's one of my favorite, non-holiday celebratory days.

a stranger to love

2008-03-08T21:27:00.000-08:00

this past week i was really sick. some of you knew, some of you didn't.
i'm better. not perfect. better.

i live with my parents. did you know that? maybe not.
it makes me sad. i don't really know why - i hate telling people. i know that a lot of people do at my age, so i really shouldn't have a problem with it.
but i suppose having already lived on my own for years, it just irks me to think of myself as the kind of person who lives with their parents.
probably mostly because my parents don't really believe that a girl my age should live on her own if she's "not married."
which puts a sort of weird pressure on me.

i definitly don't see myself getting married anytime soon.
i don't really like to think about it - it just seems an idle use of my time and thoughts.
not that i'm opposed to it. not at all.
i'd love to be married.
i just ... haven't met anyone yet to marry.
and it could be years. a decade or more even.

and i for sure will not be living with my parents till then.
but while i am, i just want to feel like there is nothing wrong with that.
i'm 23. it's normal.
right?

a few weeks ago a friend of mine told me we had to go to paris before we got married. {which was awesome. i love paris and i'd love to go with anyone anytime.}
it got me thinking.
why is it that we think of marriage as a sort of ... end.
no matter how much i know that i know marriage is definitely just a beginning and not the endgoal of anything... it does seem like i have made plans of what to do "before" i ever get married.
like, as if once i do, i won't be able to do any of that.
and maybe that's why i haven't gotten married.
i don't know... i'm still so young.
and when i hear about people my age, or younger, who get married... i just think... why?

i can't even think of myself married. i just can't picture it.
crazy thoughts.

sometimes i wonder if i'm not quite the person i need to be before i find someone.
i had one sister who got married right out of college.
two got married at the age of thirty.
thirty for me is a little less than seven years from now.
is that a long time or a short amount of time?

i like to travel. i like art. i like music, museums, movies, bookstores, coffee.
i like sharp wit. i like clever lyrics.
i want someone who likes all of the above.
i don't want to educate anyone on anything. i want someone to just... get it.

and sometimes, that makes me wonder if i'm already getting set in my ways.
and if that makes it just a little bit harder to not be... alone.

and when i think about being alone, i know why my parents don't want me living on my own.
because... it's nice to have someone there. when you are sick. when you need someone to bring you nyquil and hot tea.

it's a bit of crazy talk. i know.
i know this was a strange topic. but i have to be honest. i have to share, because... who knows? maybe you understand. maybe you needed to know someone else felt the same way.

i'm here. just in case.

Her Morning Elegance

2008-03-03T20:39:00.000-08:00

sometimes i find someone else's words that are so
much better than any i could come up with on my own.
---

Sun been down for days
A pretty flower in a vase
A slipper by the fireplace
A cello lying in its case

Soon she’s down the stairs
Her morning elegance she wears
The sound of water makes her dream
Awoken by a cloud of steam
She pours a daydream in a cup
A spoon of sugar sweetens up

And she fights for her life
as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
as it pours
And she fights for her life
as she goes in a store
with a thought she has caught
by a thread
she pays for the bread
and she goes…
Nobody knows

Sun been down for days
A winter melody she plays
The thunder makes her contemplate
She hears a noise behind the gate
Perhaps a letter with a dove
Perhaps a stranger she could love

And she fights for her life
as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
as it pours
And she fights for her life
as she goes in a store
with a thought she has caught
by a thread
she pays for the bread
and she goes…
Nobody knows

And she fights for her life
as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
as it pours
And she fights for her life
as she goes in a store
where the people are pleasantly
strange
and counting the
change
as she goes…
Nobody knows

falling slowly

2008-02-29T13:21:00.000-08:00

i can't help but loving stories of people who achieve things they never thought they could.

i know a lot of musicians. guitar players, singer/songwriters, pianists, drummers, you name it - i'm friends with them or i've dated them. perhaps that is why i have a particular place in my heart for people who live lives of melodies and lyrics.

since a week ago sunday night i've been unable to escape the story of two musicians who have done it. they made it. one of those, "who knew it could happen?" moments. i was reading a newsstory that ran last week of how glen hansard and marketa irglova crashed with some friends in cali, and hung out in a record store the day before the oscars. they were your everyday struggling musicians. they toured, they made money to pay for instruments and recording time and travel. and then, one day, they sat in a room and heard thier names called as the winners of an academy award.

---

in a majority of media, it seems that there's a moment... be it at the end of a book, or tv show or movie - there's that minute where you start feeling that twist, that pull on your emotion, that "this-is-making-me-want-to-find-love/be-discovered/find-my-passion/create-something/write-a-masterpiece/etc."

i only make mention of it because...
well...
i don't want to just wish all those things.
but... i don't think i'm the only person who does.

is that a jumbled mess?
or do you ... get it?

it tastes like burning.

2008-02-27T19:11:00.000-08:00

what do you call a day when there are just a lot of little things that make life hard?
and then what do you call that day when after all those little things, there is one big thing?

i'm going to call that day today.

the little things - they aren't really huge problems. just comments from customers at work and memory slips, things that just sort of build up over the day.
but that big thing... it's so dumb.

but right in the middle of sauteeing shrimp scampi it happened.
i just wanted to taste test a piece of fettucini.
and it was hot.
really hot.
super hot.
okay, it was burning hot.
and it didn't burn my tongue.
it burned my lip...
and my.. i don't know even know what it's called. if i had a piercing there, it'd be called a labret.
and also the rest of my chin.
so, basically there is a red, burning piece of skin that goes from my inside lip to my chin.

so here i sit... alternating between typing and holding a bag of frozen corn up to my face.

it's been a wonderful night...

okay...i can't type anymore. i have to attend to my burning face. :(

becoming amy

2008-02-21T10:31:00.000-08:00

this morning i nestled into my couch with my mom and together we took in the lovely, enchanting, melancholy-tinged sorbet of film that is Becoming Jane.

after i wiped away the last two tears [i'm a crier, okay? deal with it.], i realized that the reason i really was so touched by the story was because, unlike others based on Austen's works of fiction, was an attempt at reality. whether or not the story was true, it's ending rings of honesty. it is something that simultaneously breaks my heart and gives me hope.

i won't spoil it for the rest of you, but i will say that it made me really, truly think about my life. it made me yearn for a time when feminity was celebrated. it made me wonder if great love stories are meant for every one. it made me wonder if maverick writing is dependent on tragedy and triumph in your own personal life. it made me wonder if i will ever create a series of words that will touch anyone besides myself.

it is when i have such thoughts that i begin to think of the future - i'm faced with the opportunity to move to two different destinations, but at times the only choice that seems right is to run away to somewhere incredibly far away and foreign.
i wonder what i'll have to become in order to find ... someone, Some One to call mine.
i begin to wonder what the next five, ten, twenty [who cares about fifteen] years will bring. career? marriage? children? blonde hair, again?

i suppose everyone thinks about such things. it just seems more often than not they are much better at keeping these thoughts to themselves.
.......
at threat of giving away all my secret treasures, here's one more -

on a lighter note, you must, MUST visit my new favorite blog: Stuff White People Like. it is... brilliant. of note to myself especially are the entries on Michel Gondry and a short paragraph written on white women and thier european fanstasy life [see the Bicycle entry, toward the end about dinners under christmas lights]

thanks to the friend who directed me there...

existential study III

2008-02-12T21:24:00.000-08:00

i had a friend who mentioned to me that i was seeming distant.
distant...me?
i had to take some time to mull it over. i knew i had been pulling away from really any social interaction that took too much energy, but i couldn't quite figure out why. since i recently was informed that i often analyze myself better than anyone else ever could, i decided to give this problem the go-over. the now reason based on the recent past based on the distant past.

now:
i moved to this area roughly seven months ago. although it's been a huge learning process and i've discovered some really great things and had some great moments with family and friends here, i've been ... holding on to this notion of moving on. leaving. this place is just not enough.

recent:
although i graduated with a host of great friends, there are only a handful that i honestly ever feel like talking to. the rest take so much energy... like emotional energy. my junior year of college, three years ago, i was super tight friends with three people. within six months all three had either lied about me, spread lies about me or abandoned me for friends i introduced them to. that same year i was fortunate to meet friends i kept, and who kept me sane. unfortunately, one of those friends was a ... well, i would call them an unkillable life-leech. someone who truly cared about me, but sort of was also only looking out for themselves, who became someone i shared so much with, who never shared anything of themselves and who kept raising from the dead, no matter how much or how often i decided to try and remove them from my life. only in the past year have i finally been able to shake myself completely loose of this person, and when i hear a song or see something that usually would remind me of that person and crush my spirit - and now it has no effect whatsoever...it's so amazing. stuns me every time.
not one of the people who i was a "friend" with as a freshman is someone i am friends with now. not even really anyone who was around when i was a sophomore. it wasn't until my junior year that my friends started sticking.

distant:
the best way to help you understand this would be to use an article i found on the free library. this article is on third-culture-kids or TCKs. having grown up overseas, this article might help clarify the effects of growing up in america and then moving to a different culture or country and also being raised there...

Children in the international community are prone to loneliness, because of changing friendships as people move in and out of their lives. TCKs tend to avoid solving interpersonal problems, side-stepping potential conflicts because they know the problem will "go away." After all, they will be moving soon.
Adolescents are particularly affected by frequent moves. They are still developing their sense of identity, and attach great importance to making friends. To promote a healthy self-concept, it is important for TCKs to feel a connection to their home culture, to their school, and with extended family. Teens feel uncomfortable when they return to their "home" country ... To avoid humiliation, they outwardly mask their differences by trying to fit in with the crowd; however, they still feel anxious about their deficient knowledge base.
Children from these families may avoid forming long-term friendships because they know they will be leaving soon. The lack of steady relationships may promote feelings of loss and depression; McCaig calls this the "set-up camp, break camp mentality"

~
~
to sum up, i believe that my behavior for the past month can be condensed to the following statement:

after having been raised in an unstable environment that allowed me to run away and find a new adventure with new friends, it instilled a reaction in my relationship to friends; i routinely abandoned relationships to find new ones, and after having gotten hurt badly midway through my college career, i narrowed even further the amount of friends i actually let in past the "point of no return" [re: the point at which ceasing that friendship would be painful]. currently living in a state of limbo, both mentally and emotionally, i have found myself putting my relationships on pause once again.

phew.
now i'm on to researching/existentially discovering a solution to this issue.

++++++++

now for your valentine's day enjoyment...

nick. at night.

2008-02-09T19:25:00.000-08:00

okay. i have to mention this, simply because i think you will feel the same way i did.
you know how you will have forgotten about something for like...ever? and then you're with one of your friends and you somehow remember it and it totally blows your mind???

when i was in like... sixth grade or so, i LOVED the nickelodeon show the secret world of alex mack. do you guys remember it? it was the one with the girl who had a chemical spill on her and after that she could like, shape shift and move stuff with her mind and she was always trying to keep people from finding out about it? the girl was played by the same girl who ended up being the younger sister in the movie 10 things i hate about you. but that show was first, and after that i even remember her being the babysitter's club movie. that show was great.
it was awesome.

i mean, there were a ton of shows i used to watch on nickelodeon that i totally forgot about. i loved are you afraid of the dark?, salute your shorts, clarissa explains it all. they were so much better then any of the crap kids watch nowadays. the writing was better...so much more...clever.

that's all really.
_______________________________________________

It's everything you love, everything you missed, and everything you have to see again...

2008-02-07T18:34:00.000-08:00

there have been a few bumps... but i would just like to say that this week has been really great. like... really great.
even though i'm... well, sort of poor right now, i can't remember the last time i felt this good about things.
i like what i'm doing with my time.
there's a lot i don't have time to write about... but i will. soon.

for now, just know that even though i'm not updating as much as i should...
and even though i haven't messaged a number of you back...
i will. please let me know what is new with you...i do want to know.

{hopefully this post doesn't mean that tomorrow turns out super crappy. ;) }
xoxo

six degrees.

2008-02-02T06:21:00.000-08:00

there were a lot of highly sophisticated topics i thought about using for my next post.
and then i woke up this morning and had a revelation.

my kevin bacon factor is four.
yes, friends - i'm am that much of a rockstar that i am only seperated from kevin bacon by four degrees.

ok, once i tell you my secret, some of you will realize that you too are rockstar-level worthy too. and because i'm that generous of a person, i'm willing to let you in on this knowledge.

check it out:

my best friend is Annie Duffield.

Annie Duffield is the daughter of musician Sue Duffield.

Sue Duffield dated Bruce Willis in high school.

[archived photo]

bruce willis was in Boffo! with kevin bacon.

yes, that was my first thought when i woke up this morning - i am related to kevin bacon by less than six degrees.
i have no idea where that came from... it just did.

yes.

memento.

2008-01-29T07:02:00.000-08:00

for my sixteenth birthday, i decided to have all my friends dress in blue. that was in actuality my party theme, as it was at that time my favorite color. some teachers at school even got into it, and wore blue during school that day... which seemed to take forever, because all i could think of was my party.
finally i got home, and a few friends came to help me finish last minute decorations. needless to say, i was pretty psyched. this was going to be a big deal.

i should maybe preface by saying that i spent all of my high school years living in kiev, ukraine - and things were a bit different when you lived in a former soviet country. perhaps if i had grown up in the states, my party would have been an even bigger deal... i remember my sister melanie's sixteenth party, which i felt like was a huge to-do. sometimes i wonder if i would have made my own 16th birthday much like something seen on mtv. probably not. but... i would have tried to be very rockstar about it. you know.

my friends started to show up and we were just chillin', hanging out, playing some favorite violent party games [just ask me how to play the name game sometime]. five of my friends were noticably absent, but after an hour they showed up - having gotten lost to the point of my dad going to find them. i had forgotten about this until i found a piece of cardboard in an old stash of mementos this past summer. i know, you're like, amy, how does a piece of cardboard relate to them being lost? did they spend some time with a homeless man while they were wandering around? no, nothing like that. ok... more backstory:
the day of my party, i had given directions to my friend zach on how to get to my apartment, and shortly thereafter lent my lip gloss to my friend priscilla. it was the kind of gloss that is liquidy and has a roller ball on top - you know what i mean? zach and priscilla, her twin zeke, summer and bram [our dutch friend] all decided to go in on a gift together. after school, they went to go purchase this gift, then preceded to get severely lost as noted above.
during "gift time," they presented me with a cardboard box, which was empty. then they handed me my shoe - inside i found a tiny bird, whose full name was zekezach priscilla summerbram. i called him baby.
during the time they were lost, my friends had taken to writing funny messages on the box the bird was housed in, to distract them from the coldness of the early russian winter. the portion of the box i had kept simply said this:

amy.
i have your lipgloss.
i think it is frozen now.

this made me laugh every time i thought about it. as if this was a sort of epitaph one would find if my friends had died in the cold, and this message was priscilla's last words.

thinking about my party, i was reminded of another occurance that happened. i was eating cake and noticed that another friend of mine was missing. for quite some time. i had heard rob say he was going off to find the bathroom... and the more i thought about him and how long he had been gone, i started to get nervous. why was he in the bathroom so long? i was having visions of having to put on long gloves and a face mask to clean up whatever he was doing to my toilet. one of the french doors in our living room opened and he walked towards me. ugh, i thought, it's going to be like someone died in my bathroom if he needed that much time to... go.

"amy, i have to show you something," he said.
i knew it, i thought to myself.
i took a deep breath and walked after him.
we went into the bathroom, and i found the toilet pristine. sparkling, even.
rounding the corner [we had a large bathroom], i continued to look at the floor looking for some evidence of gross body fluids lying about. then rob directed my attention to the sink.
laying in the sink was the bottom half of the mirror. in pieces. shattered, bity pieces.

i stared at the pieces, then at him. then the pieces again.
"what happened?" i finally said.
"your mirror had that glass shelf on it, he said, and after i washed my hands i saw that i had a zit that needed to be popped. i sort of propped my elbows on the shelf when i leaned forward to pop my zit and half the mirror broke off. and then it shattered. and the shelf too. "

"so you were doing something gross."
"well..." he started.
"and you were in here so long because you picked up all the pieces?"
"it took a while. and i was in shock. and i was scared of your mom."

my mom forgave him. but we laughed about that together for a long time.

ghost in my house.

2008-01-25T19:12:00.000-08:00

well.

one week ago, i never would have seen the events of this past week coming.
i was just chillin', pondering what would/might happen soon.
then the twins were born.
i got a substantial freelance editorial offer.
then the other baby came.
then i quit my job, which had been sucking life out of me.
then i got a call saying i got a job i really felt fit me better.
then i spent a few days taking care of my sister and her new baby and my one year old niece...
which meant afternoons napping.
and in and between all of that i've been working on two new books.
oh, and not to mention i got a nice surprise from the postman... the complete arrested development collection ... which has meant some later nights than would have occured otherwise.

to sum up... i'm pretty tired.
and i want to put up some amazing, inspiring post.
i really do.
but all i can think of to say is that time is going by incredibly fast.
i mean... christmas was merely weeks ago.
but it feels like months.
and i'm already looking at May and what i might or might not need to plan for, but it feels as if that will be here in the blink of an eye.
it gives me a little acid reflux just thinking about it all...
but i also feel good as opposed to feeling negative.
i'm excited about what might happen.
i guess we'll all see, huh?

after my nap.

____________________

extra points - name this apartment's owner:

transistion.

2008-01-23T11:58:00.000-08:00

so it's been a pretty crazy few days. two sisters who gave birth to three little girls in one weekend, the switching of jobs and my branching out as a "real" freelancer.

it's still pretty intense, but i thought i'd post some things up...

this is ms. sarah michelle... who comes home today.

here are the twins - callahan grace and kennedy love. we're hoping to have them come home sooner than later... they are amazing.

Babies are such a nice way to start people...

2008-01-20T02:48:00.000-08:00

yesterday i sat down to a lazy saturday lunch with my parents. we chatted about books and politics and life.
then we got a call.

my sister julie, preggo with twin girls, was getting ready to be wheeled in for a c-section. unexpectedly... and without warning... our saturday was not so lazy anymore.

quickly pulling on clothes and pouring on the body spray, we all packed into the car and headed across the bridge to jersey. along the way we laughed about expectations... i have another pregnant sister who is due first and we had definitely thought she would be the one giving birth ... we had prayed for it to happen that very day.

we spent a little bit of time waiting, we called family members and finally we saw my sister - only my mom got in to see the tiny tiny babies, Kennedy Love and Callahan Grace - two months premature, but still perfect.

exhausted [why? we didn't do anything?], we came home and got ready for bed. i had just got under my covers, and was watching a Talk Soup re-run before crashing and my door swung open.

"Kristi is heading to the hospital."

My head spun a bit. "like, she's giving birth right now?"

"No... but soon."

i called my sister, told her to call when she decided to have it... i laid back and watched some comedy central standup till 1 am. fell asleep. woke up at three. woke up at three thirty. dreamt my sister gave birth but that i was at home looking for a jump drive for my brother-in-law. woke up at five.

this is dumb. i'm going to the hospital. i'd rather do some active waiting as opposed to this craziness.

i got dressed in a flash, brushed a bit of sense into my hair [not much.] brushed teeth, put on enough eye makeup to look awake. poured on the good smelling stuff.

scared the bejesus out of my mom when i woke her up to tell her i was heading out the door. went to go find my cell phone and keys.

then my brother-in-law called... it was time, they were wheeling her in to surgery.

so i'm waiting again. this time is a bit more exciting - we have no idea if it's a girl or boy, and i will actually get to hold this baby. i've been so ready to see who it's going to be - and i've been dying to know if my sister is going to give him or her a decent name.

i'm tired. i've got a bit of headache... to much to process perhaps.
three babies in 17 hours. phew...

i'll need a nap tonight fo'sho.

champagne dreams.

2008-01-17T19:18:00.000-08:00

my freshman year of college, some friends and i went out and about on the town. long story short, our driver got her car towed. we set off to go find the impound lot.

we found ourselves in a sort of warehouse row just outside the bright, bright lights of downtown. she went to go negotiate with the towing company. waiting outside i spotted a guy a few lots down just standing around these vibrant colored things. the glass window of his small warehouse had large vintage lights twinkling through them ... i was intrigued. so despite the late hour, i walked down to see what was going on.

i soon realized that this guy was grilling - yes grilling - amidst a selection of beautiful stained glass pieces. he nodded a hello when he saw me and raised a pair of tongs. i inguired as to why he was grilling here, and what he said i remember, but what i saw has affected me forever.

with a gesture toward the window, he said his friends had come over to celebrate his being in business for a full year. as he continued to talk, i peered in at the hip, cosmopolitan people inside. wine glasses in hand as they hung on vintage stools and chaise lounges, laughing and saying what i dream were brilliant things. the interior of his shop was draped in jewel toned fabric that contrasted with the brick and concrete walls.

i looked back up into his face, this tall, beautiful man who sipped from a tall glass and then reached to turn his steaks - i congratulated him, and with one last glance into the window, i meandered back to find my friend and her newly freed car.

since that night, every idea or motivation i've had in life has made me wonder... will this be what puts me in that shop? will living here or working there make me one of those nouveaux artistes? how long do i have to wait to lay back on one of those chaises and laugh like they did?

after a long time of neglecting that memory, today i remembered again the stained glass man and his champagne friends.

and i ached.

_____________

tonight my mom asked me randomly:
"have you ever thought about what kind of wedding dress you'd want to have?"
my first reaction was to deny it. why would i even think about that, i don't even have a boyfriend? gosh.
but of course, i have thought about it.
i don't want to say i've had long in depth thoughts.
but i have witnessed the craziness of three sisters getting married.

so after a few hours i sat down next to my mom.
"i want a dress like no one else has ever had. with a champagne sash.
and a square neck.
and little lace sleeves."

let me google it, i said.

and she smiled when i showed her what i found. and she said she loved it.

so i dream. so what?

sacrifice & acting part II

2008-01-16T20:04:00.000-08:00

today my father spoke at a college about my parents work overseas. they work in a very volatile area - i have recieved calls in the past from them having to board up their house due to war-like conditions in thier city.
at the college, he showed a short video clip of them and the area and the work they do. the clip showed him and my mother talking about why they chose to go there.
at one point he said, "once we knew that this was where God wanted us, it didn't matter how dangereous it was." later on, the narrator [who is their supervisor overseas] spoke about how my parents "were older, had raised thier kids" and were willing to "lay down thier lives if that's what it took."

i cried. i cried because it scares me a bit to think of them living there. i cried because i'm so proud of them. i cried because they have such great passion for their people in those towns and cities.

i cried because i want to love something, to be so dedicated to something, that i would die for it, if that's what it took.

______________

continuing my notes on my SALACJBO journal [see the previous post], the verse today was especially poignant for me:

1 Peter 1:11-12
Friends, this world is not your home, so don't make yourselves cozy in it. Don't indulge your ego at the expense of your soul. Live an exemplary life among the natives so that your actions will refute their prejudices. Then they'll be won over to God's side and be there to join in the celebration when he arrives.

[for those who asked, this is from The Message, a modern translation of the Bible]

I have to tell you that i'm big on writers who use great descriptive words or turn of phrase. this passage is a perfect example of great writing [or translation, as it may be]. in the first line, peter is warning against getting "cozy" in this world. i think that this stuck with me so much because it is part of an ongoing discussion i have been having recently with several people - the feeling that our culture keeps telling us what we need or who we need and how we need it and that it has to happen NOW! the sense that if we don't get it all, or if we don't meet society's expectations [which usually become OUR expectations] that we have to do what we can to acquire those things. when i lived overseas, there was less of that push to have, have, have, get, get, get, so my move back to america was a bit of a culture shock. now, years later, i know that i've gotten comfortable with relaxing my morals, with buying things i think i need or that i feel might make me happier.

peter goes on to say "Don't indulge your ego at the expense of your soul."
Slam! Yeah, I felt that one, too. how many times have i done something just to appear better or cooler or chicer or smarter than others? how about telling white lies? or going along with something that perhaps didn't fall in line with your beliefs because you were afraid to assertively decline to participate?

i truly believe there is a freedom and inner peace that comes by keeping our mind on what counts - not on keeping up with the joneses, not with letting our own beliefs, values and morals crumble bit by bit just so we can be whoever we think society wants us or tells us to be. saying that you have certain beliefs, and then living a life that does not support them is called hypocrisy - and i've never known a hypocrite who had true, honest joy and peace.

peter calls us to live an exemplary life - not for our own benefit, but because living a life that is true breaks down the predjudices of those who don't know the hope we have, whose lives are vacant of freedom and joy. we live our lives not for ourselves, but for the world around us. our daily, in-and-out relationships, our everyday character - these are the billboards of our hope.
___________________________

I. Acting

2008-01-14T06:05:00.000-08:00

For Christmas I recieved a book that I had told a few friends I wanted.
Originally, I had said I wanted to give the book to certain people or family members [you'll see why when I tell you the book title...].
Then a friend surprised me with it. And I started reading it.
And I realized it was for me.

The book, a small, crisply written essay just over a hundred pages, that has a thirty day journal attached, is shaking me to the core. The book?

stop acting like a christian - just be one
christine caine

i was raised in the church, lived overseas with my parents as missionaries, and graduated from a private christian college. so let me say this with you understanding that i know how a christian looks, speaks, and acts.

i'm pretty sure that until now, i was the best actor ever.
of course, there were times that it was so real to me - but can't anything you pretend at for so long feel real at some point?

ms. caine spends the first half of her book likening your physical core to the spiritual core - it's vital to work out your body's core every day to keep you strong and healthy. even more so, if you aren't maintaining your spiritual core every day, despite how spiritual you look on the outside, inside you'll start breaking down. by the time your outside starts to look farther and farther from who you are acting like, it'll have been due to a long process of decay inside.

i'm not very good at journals, which is why i have a blog, but i do want to get through this one. to that end, i believe i will start posting at least a bit of something here to motivate me through this one. [i'm on day two, but it's the 14th of January... so you can see i need a boost of some sort.]

so if you can handle it, i hope to at least post one thing i read that really inspired me to not just acting like a christian, but really, honestly truly being one.

xo

Hermitage de la Consolación

2008-01-10T10:13:00.000-08:00

do you ever think life would be a lot easier if you didn't have to deal with people?

or do you think that dealing with yourself is more terrifying?

----------------------------------

if i could drift in and out of every day,
the days when the weight on my shoulders is too much to hold
to a distant and secluded place, close my eyes, release my emotions, pray.
i don't want to talk to anyone, i don't need to talk it out.
i'll just sit alone reflecting on today
how things came to be and how much of the blame is on me...
how can I change?
have i already screwed up all that i'm supposed to be?
sometimes I just need to be alone
distance myself from the world and just ponder
how i need to escape entirely -
i lock myself up in my room crying, on my knees, begging for forgiveness
sometimes i need to escape those who won't let me breathe
and sometimes i can seem to say no,
not right now please.
i'm most afraid of what would happen if i really ran away.
if i had to sit and listen to myself and all the things I have to say,
all the thoughts that wander in and sit a while in my mind.
stay for long, dreadful moments, days, weeks.

__________________________________

Romans 12:1-2, The Message

So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

time to go.

2008-01-09T22:49:00.000-08:00

i first started writing a blog not too long ago - March 2005 to be exact. I know this because I went back and checked. I have been wanting to go through my old blogs and save any poetry or decent pieces of writing, and I found myself actually incredulous at how naive so many of my early posts were. not that any of the recent ones here have been any better. in fact they have probably been worse.

The reason for such trivial sentiment and emotion that the past few posts have borne directly connect to my battle with time. It is already ten days into this new year, and I feel as if i should have whiplash from how fast time seems to be going. But this time it is different, because this time I have won. It seems all I had to do was make the ultimate decision, and time was ready to push me to my horizon as fast as it could.

Every night before bed, as I lay down, there are four things that catch my eye.
1. a huge photograph, poster sized, of a cobblestone lane, lined with trees that leads to a chateau in paris. in the foreground is a tightly embracing couple, the woman with delicate ballet flats and a long skirt, the man in elegantly cut pants and grasping an umbrella. they are lost in a kiss and the title of the picture located on the white matting around it is simple - "parisian kiss"

2. one horizontal frame containing a series of black and white photgraphs from parisian locations; the eiffel, la moulin rouge, a metro station...

3. a painting i began of a tree i pass every day. with my creative waning, all that has sat on the canvas for the past three weeks is a hazy jewel-toned sky, meeting forest green and mushy ground with a creaking black outline of my tree. during christmas, i slung some twinkle lights over the top and it's beautiful really...

4. an old calendar, which has black and white pictures of european cities.

i see these every night and every morning. is it any wonder that i wake up and mourn living here? is it any wonder that i detest the college student i used to be who could not wait to leave where she was, when really college was the excuse for not being where she thought she should be?

i have already resolved to change.
i have already resolved to no longer succumb to the incessant pity and loathing of myself.
i have already resolved to do what it takes right now, so i can do what it takes when the time comes.

one day, i will take down these pictures, and pack them away. i will sell most everything i own. i will pull out my suitcase, putting only my most beloved and beautiful belongings inside. stepping outside, the air will be that crispness air gets in early dawn, and i will turn and lock the door of my home behind me. i will treasure each site i pass while driving in my car, knowing that it will be the last time for a while that these are familiar.
and then, with a very full heart, i will make my way to the aeroplane that has been waiting for me for too long. with one glance over my shoulder, i will walk onto a silver bird and fly away.

and this all will have been worth it.

teen spirit.

2008-01-07T05:42:00.000-08:00

i tossed and turned last night.
when i began working with teenagers, i conveniently forgot that they would still be in high school. the notion that they would be mature, that they would have a sembalence of respect for others, that people could get over themselves without feeling the need to spread visious rumors and make up lies... turns out that was a fleeting one.

i didn't want to let the words affect me. i wanted to shake off the untruth.
but i'm slowly feeling defeated.
i wanted to believe that the majority of those around wouldn't believe such things about me, but it turns out that some people don't know me like i wish.

when i get upset about things, i try to figure out what the lesson is that i should be learning. after letting myself simply be angry, i think my lesson is that i have to let what people say roll off my back. of course, no one is as harsh or tactless as a teenager, but who knows what kind of person i may end up working with in the future? i suppose there are adults out there who have the same ridiculous issues.

it's been a while since i was in high school - it's been a while since i had to deal with jealousy, since i had to combat rumors or gossip.
and for a while i just ignored it. until my character started being challenged.

i just want to understand. i just want to resolve this issue without being so upset about it.

i just want some people to get over themselves.

to live in seattle in the nineties... a list of greatest hits [that happens to feel very grungy]

2008-01-05T22:12:00.000-08:00

i've been pretty obsessed with music and lists as of late. lists of any kind are a beautiful thing to me , so i decided to make my own greatest songs of the nineties tribute. I'll be honest - i'm trying to decide how much boybands will make a showing in this list. honestly, i think they deserve a list of thier own.

this definitly is not complete, but it's a work in progress. perhaps i'll add more at a later date - perhaps you should add some of your own votes for the greatest of the 90s...in either case, all of these songs should be on your ipod.

21. linger, the cranberries

why does this song, so light, so twangy, make me long for nineties era seattle?

20. ice cream, sarah mclaughlin

as fresh and sweet as home made cream

19. i will always love you, whitney houston

the movie bodyguard and my sister's incessent playing of this song will make it last forever in my mind.

18. my heart will go on, celine dion

too good. it just takes me back....

17. intergalactic, beastie boys

so creative. and addictive.

16. stay, lisa loeb

i remember being in a fashion bug in junior high the first time i heard this song.
lovely. beautiful. real.

15. california love, tu pac

this is the jam.

14. one week, barenaked ladies

the lyrics are genius. and catchy as all get out.

13. barely breathing, duncan sheik

i have to listen to this song every time it's on the radio.

12. criminal, fiona apple

angst at its very best.

11. i only wanna be with you, hootie and the blowfish

give me a cup of coffee, a friends marathon and this song, and i'll be ready to cut my hair in a Rachel and wear crazy sweaters and vests.

10. loser, beck

yes. beck. yes.

9. under the bridge, red hot chili peppers.

i sort of feel that every hit rhcp has had since this song has used elements of this song to be successful. it's just so... soulful.

8. viva forever/stop/spice up your life/too much, the spice girls

i am seriously contemplating seeing this comeback tour.

7. mr jones, counting crows

this was this bands first mainstream single. did you know that?

6. you oughta know, alanis morrisette

i love alanis. she's so real, so brilliant.

5. angel, sarah mclaughlin

haunting and beautiful

4. creep, radiohead
this will hit you like a brick wall. so so good.

3. wonderwall, oasis

brilliant. classic. perfect.

2. smells like teen spirit, nirvana

this song is the 90's.

1. time of your life [good riddance], green day

quintessential. nothing else will make me have such an emotional reaction. think about how many montages, finales, graduations, slideshows you've heard this song used for. nothing else compares.

then and now...

2008-01-05T17:17:00.000-08:00

five years ago, i had just turned 18 for my freshman year of college.
I decided to interview my former self and my present self, just for kicks and laughs.
here's five questions for me... then and now.

1. Me: So, describe yourself for our readers.
Eighteen-year-old Me:
Well, I just graduated high school while living in Eastern Europe, and I'm pretty proud of that. I even got a Soviet flag as a going away present from my overseas friends that i put up on the wall of my dorm room. I'm blonde and blue eyed, but i'm pretty smart. I'm majoring in Journalism, and I would love to be my generation's Diane Sawyer. I love to read, any classic I can get my hands on. I played some sports in high school and i'm considering playing soccer for my college.

Present Self: Hm. I'm in a bit of a transistional state. my parents are home from living overseas, and i'm sort of just trying to get settled and figure out where i want to be and who i want to be. i feel a little sad about that sometimes - my room is covered with pictures of paris, and somedays i just want to get up and go there and leave all this behind. most people who've known me for a while will tell you that i'm loud, extroverted and fun - but that i'm also smart, insecure and a bit nerdy. they'll never describe me by hair style or color - because who knows what is like today? this year alone i've been blonde, white blonde, long, short, curly, dark, dark with extensions and even darker. i'm looking into adobe expert certification, and i'd can't wait to feel like i can really honestly say that all i do is graphic design.

2. ME: Tell me about your favorite things.
EM: I love music and musical things. I just got my first acoustic guitar and I sort of have this fantasy of being on broadway someday. I was never allowed to listen to secular music when i lived with my parents overseas, so i've been sort of addicted to every top-40 station on the radio. i like boys. a lot.

PS: i love music. i could play name that song with 80 percent of people my age and probably win every time. old school arena rock, punk rock, folk rock, alternative, pop, new wave, any decade of your choice - i've probably got it on my ipod. i still love my musicals, but i'd prefer to see them live - live shows of anything really, whether it is just music, or theater or musical theater. i love writing and nothing else makes me feel more sane. i like boys. a LOT.

3. ME: Favorite colors, flavors?
EM: i love blue - like a sort of royal blue. i even have super blue contacts to make my blue eyes look BLUE. almost all of my clothes are blue, my room is very blue my seventeenth birthday party was themed blue. i love chocolate anything. i lived overseas for a long time, but i don't really like to try new things. give me a burger and fries and i'm happiest. i like girly scents - like cucumber melon from bath and body works. i wear curve by LC.

PS: colors are so subjective - i wear a lot of black, green and teal. my bedroom has a mix of black furniture and brown and teal accents, with some subtle sage green accent. if i redid everything i owned, it would probably still all be black, brown, sage and soft teal. in fact, out of all the clothes i own, it's 45 percent black, 35 percent greens and blues and the other 20 percent is random rose, purple, grey and gold colors. i adore chocolate. that is the true way to my heart - chocolate, chocolate cake, chocolate ice cream. significant exceptions would include my love for mint chocolate and the combination of chocolate with peanutbutter. i adore thai food, although i could really switch in any asian cuisine if the mood strikes. i love anything that has flavors that make my mouth tingle and pop. my search for my signature scent has shown me that i love dark, deep notes in perfumes and scents - anything deep and musky. for the last year i've been wearing prada by prada, which has great amber and sandalwood elements with just a hint of vanilla. i also could swim in a vat of jasmine vanilla aromatherapy lotion from b&bw every day.

4. ME: Where do you see yourself in five years?
EM: working at a newspaper, living in the city. who knows? that's so far away!

PS: hum. i have no idea. i want to just up and go one of these days - i can see a potential version of myself: having moved back to the city, working full time as a graphic designer, wearing a pair of christian louboutins, all in black. five years from now i'll be twenty eight, and i'm so excited to live the next five years so i have a lot of stories to tell...

5. ME: What do you want to succeed at this year?
EM: make lots of friends at school and write more.

PS: learn more grace and love more. finish a mural sized painting. show Christ in my way of living. grow my hair looong. get back to the weight i was when i started college. write, write, write more.

se cacher

2008-01-04T15:02:00.000-08:00

avez osé vous ?
vous avez dit que j'étais hypocrite.
menteur.
qui m'avez-vous pensé étiez?
comment ne pourriez-vous pas voir la vérité ?
que je ne suis aucune de ces!
que je vrais, honnêtes.
j'adore véritables de choses.
je sais que nous devons parler.
je sais que nous devons fixer ceci.
je veux juste courir loin.
je veux juste dormir ce week-end.

crave something new

2008-01-02T08:15:00.000-08:00

there are days when i get to work, do all i need to do in the first hour and end up just sitting and staring, trying to inspire some type of thought as to what i could now do with the remnant of my day.

no other job i have had has affected me in this way. in every other position, i have always been such a workaholic. i'd forget lunches or snacks or breaks or stretching. of course, if there were someone around to bother, i might feel the need to get up and bother them. but as soon as that wound down, it was back to the same old - crouched over in front of the computer with squinty eyes and dry throat.

but here, at this place, it is both terrible and wonderful all at the same time. the place where i learned that i loved to design... that i need to stop hiding my creative side. the place where, after creating five print pieces in illustrator, which i'm still so impressed with myself for learning, i'm just sitting now. and the turmoil - mostly it's because i've managed to turn this assistant position into a graphic design and editorial position.
which is great - until i finish all those graphic and editorial projects. and then there is all the calendars and emails and letters and upkeep that the assistant part adds to this position.

i have an interview this friday to work at a new place solely in publications. design, writing, photography, all the things that make me happy. no keeping up someone elses correspondence or travel arrangements or any of that. just me doing what i like to do.

i've been so scared to say anything about this interview to anyone, because i'm not feeling confident about getting hired. mostly because it's a director level position. a friend of mine recommended me for the part - despite my "lack of experience" at the age of 23. i wish i could just write on my resume "i have more experience than you think."

so i've been just sitting here at work now, for the past 20 minutes, dreading doing anything that doesn't stretch my creative.
somehow, i'll get over it.

happy 08, dear ones.

stardust

2007-12-26T22:26:00.000-08:00

Charles Dickens:
I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.

Agnes M. Pharo:
What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future. It is a fervent wish that every cup may overflow with blessings rich and eternal, and that every path may lead to peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

no other season causes me to reflect on the passing of time quite as much as the winter holidays. it was my birthday in november only moments ago, and yet here i find myself on the night after christmas, wondering how it all came to pass so quickly.

it will soon be the new year. it will soon be the time for resolutions, for personal determinations, for forward looking thoughts and declarations.
and here i sit, staring into the bottom of my glass, wondering how i came to be here, how i came to do this, how i came to be me.

it is the perpetual sort of pity party that i hate. it is the narcissism i vainly [no pun intended] try to ignore. it is the prison of my existential desires.

because i want more.
i need to be more.
i need to have more.
i want to see more.
i want to know more.
and not having it now, not having been where i want to be, not having seen it all and without the knowledge that i crave - i feel ultimate failure. i feel supreme jealousy. i slip into latent anger and grief.

i have had youth and mentor tell me that i haven't failed yet, that it is not too late, that i can fulfill dreams.
i am bound, however, to learn the hardest lesson of all, first.
i am destined to know the pain of patience. to break the chains of indifference and procrastination. to confess that i don't have it all yet... and that i am okay.

i am 23. i am still young. i have regrets from the past.
i am well read. i am a linguist. i have dark thoughts at midnight.
i have traveled far. i know more than most. i refuse to cry.

i am forced to acknowledge that I have tasted peace and joy, and that the days i spend without them are ones I have neglected to spend with Him.
i am forced to admit that He is the only one who has seen my tears, who has seen those dark thoughts, who knows all my regrets - and He is the one who still holds my hand.

today i remembered that i have not had a house to call home since the age of 12.
i recalled that time and time again, when I didn't like the situation I found myself in, I ran away.
i dwelled this evening on the strange facts of my paralyzing fear of people leaving or going away, on my need for human contact, on my desire to be loved.

and throught the blackness of this late night and early morning inner questioning, a small voice whispered words of comfort.

I am your home.
I have never left.
My love casts out fear.
I have held you through it all.
I am love.
I am love.

~~~~
Psalm 73:21-28
Once I was bitter and brokenhearted. I was stupid and ignorant,and I treated you as a wild animal would. But I never really left you,and you hold my right hand.
Your advice has been my guide, and later you will welcome me in glory. In heaven I have only you, and on this earth you are all I want. My body and mind may fail, but you are my strength and my choice forever.
Powerful LORD God, all who stay far from you will be lost... It is good for me to be near you. I choose you as my protector, and I will tell about your wonderful deeds.

a countdown for the unfestive me.

2007-12-20T09:10:00.000-08:00

it has not felt like the holiday season.

no snow.
no holidazzle parade.
no marshall field's [um, i mean macy's] window displays.
few "near and dear ones."
i have yet to see an advent wreath or candles of any kind.
none of the usual parties and get togethers.
it could be a bit of my own fault, in that i have not really listened to any christmas music at all. well, i suppose i did as i decorated my tree. but that would be mostly it. it's just been the same old same old some new.

but i want to feel like it's christmas time. i do!
and so, i have decided that i will sit and write out for myself some top holiday memories. what better way to get some holiday spirit?
[with christmas radio on in the background!]

10. The Amy Grant Christmas cd is holiday tradition for my fam. We have some ancient video proof [read: VHS] of this [and also of me being a huge performer from a young age] with 9 year old me and a 23 year old version of my sister julie dancing to "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" on a christmas eve that was over a decade ago. wow. we cut a rug.

9. my parents and i moved overseas two weeks before christmas in '98. that tree, which was about 2 and 1/2 feet tall, had only three presents under it. that year was a swift kick lesson in gratefulness and true holiday spirit.

8. Also on video is my mom recieving a Leather jacket from my dad many years ago - her imitation of how it made her feel like a biker was priceless. we really need to dig that tape out.

7. a final family video reference: me, circa age 10, opening up talking battleship and freaking out. actually crying. with JOY. i was so, so, so excited.

6. last new year's, when we all found ourselves ringing in the new year with sparkling beverages in hand between rounds of guitar hero and amidst much laughter. i think we all forgot the ice storm outside - and i wore a tiara!

5. making and decorating people-shaped cookies with my sister melanie in 2004. we were so proud!

4. flying home last christmas and going directly to the hospital to visit my very sick month old niece Elena. i was so thankful that she was able to come home in time for Christmas.

3. my senior year of high school. my parents and i had a quiet christmas eve dinner together - complete with my father and i dancing to some christmas music. it was then that i knew we would do it again whenever i got married.

2. every christmas eve, long after everyone else has gone to bed, i find myself curled up under a window. just me, some stars, and a good conversation with God. it just makes the holiday complete.

1. laughter. just laughing with friends, family. laughing over gifts, coffee, cider, babies, food, pictures. just letting go, being loved and loving right back. that is the best best best part of every holiday.

yup. totally worked. i feel that christmas spirit!

so should you. get into it. don't forget the most important parts - family. friends. and above all, don't forget Him. the One who we are celebrating, who came to bring you [yes, you!] peace and joy - not just for the season, but forever.

i love you all, dear ones.

your turn.

2007-12-18T20:05:00.000-08:00

i wanted to post something. but since inspiration was lacking, here you go:

1. Name one person who made you laugh last night?
annie duffield. last night we watched Paris Je T'aime and she started attacking me.

2.What were you doing at 0800?
hitting the snooze button for the first time. it was a hopeless endeavor.

3. What happened to you in 2006?
ended a relationship, but managed to have a ton of fun with my two best friends, lived in omaha for three months, moved to a quaint corner of minneapolis, discovered a great church and started a full-time job.

4. How many beverages did you have today?
hmm. one cup coffee. two bottles of water. one cup of tea. i should drink more.

5. What color is your hairbrush?
i have one regular brush - it's silver. i have a boar bristle brush that is blue, a huge round boar bristle brush that is wood colored [is that a color?], and about 87 types of combs.

6. Where were you last night?
see question one. add: christmas shopping with mi madre.

7.What color is your front door?
like a dark grey-blue.

8. Where do you keep your change?
hmm. i have a change pocket in my wallet, but i think there is some in every purse i own. and also in my car somewhere. and in a little jar on my dresser. actually there's two jars.

9. What's the weather like today?
it is super chilly. i think the weather dropped like 25 degrees today. but, i mean... i've been wearing a scarf every day since november. so yeah.

10. What's the best ice cream flavor?
well, i usually just say chocolate - plain. it's just so simply amazing. but lately i've been craving mint chocolate chip.

11. What excites you?
a perfectly written line in a book. a quick, witty comment. being with friends. catching someone's eye. a good hair day. being on stage.

12. Do you want to cut your hair?
no. i just took my extensions out so it already looks like i got a haircut. maybe a trim. sometime. maybe after the holidays. [watch me say that and then go get it cut tomorrow. hmm. actually... that's not a bad idea.]

13.Are you over the age of 25?
no - i'm totally looking forward to being there, i hope to have a lot more figured out. i mean, i'm sure i'll still have questions, but i expect that in the next two years i'll be a little more secure in where and who and why i am what i am.

14.Do you talk a lot?
um. not if i'm with annie - then she talks more. :) but usually yes.

15. Do you watch the OC?
actually no, i never was home or something when it was on...

16. Do you make up your own words?
no, but i enjoy using big words that normal people don't know. all my youth group kids thought i made up the word "serendipitous." but you're smarter than that, right?

17. Are you a jealous person?
only of material things. like hair, clothes, apartments. in real life, i don't think those things make you happy. maybe they make life easier, but then how do you develop any character?

18. Name a friend whose name starts with an 'A'?
Annie. Aaron. Andrew.

19. Name a friend whose name starts with a 'K'?
Kristi [my sister]. Kaziah. Kari. Kaci.

20. Who's the first person on your received call list?
my mom. ugh... that's a little typical.

21. What does the last text msg you received say?
i can't remember if it's one from annie asking if i wanted to go to chick'fil'a or one from tim steffel with his sisters number on it. or one from david. those are all viable answers and i'm too tired to go pick up my phone.

22. Do you chew on a straw?
i usually don't drink with straws. i think they are a bit tacky.

23. Where's the next place you are going?
bed.

24. Who's the rudest person in your life?
i don't know. usually i feel like i am that person.

25. What was the last thing you ate?
A piece of chocolate. dove chocolate.

26. Will you get married in the future?
um... i hope so someday. probably not soon. i mean... i don't know.

27. What's the best movie you've seen in the last 2 weeks?
hmmm... i saw I Am Legend and Paris Je T'aime this past weekend. i can't really remember past that. je pense que je suis trop fatigué pour me rappeler... trop de nuits en retard.

28. When was the last time you did dishes?
i don't. that is why dishwashers were created. hallelujah.

29. Are you currently depressed?
not today. one pill a day keeps the imaginary rain clouds and storms away.

30. Did you cry today?
i almost did - lately the radio has been making me cry. tonight they were talking about soldiers who weren't going to be home for christmas, and i was so sad after listening to it.

31. What was the last thing you said aloud?
"Wow, she's really tiny." [i'm watching "The Biggest Loser Finale."]

32. What car do you drive and what Bumpersticker(s) do you have on it?
I drive a 1997 Hyundai Sonata, which is dark green but hopefully will be either black or slate grey in the new year. it has a slight dent above the front passenger tire, thanks to the chain link fence at my former residence. There are NO bumper stickers. bumper stickers on cars are an easy way for me to weed out who i should be friends with and who i shouldn't. that said, i don't mind one simple decal. for example, i'm contemplating an Ireland tag once i get my car painted. because i'm proud of my heritage. so there.

33. Why did you answer this and post it?
hopefully something made you laugh, something made you smile, something made you nod your head or something mad you say, really?
and hopefully you'll put up something similar, so i can learn something from you. that's always a noble ambition.

create.

2007-12-11T22:00:00.000-08:00

i'm going to be focusing on my art this holiday season, and i've picked a new theme - the tentative title is 'run toward the bright lights'
here is a crappy cell phone picture of a sort of rough draft thinking session collage of ideas.

what big plans do you have for the end of the year??

common theme

2007-12-10T21:42:00.000-08:00

closer

2007-12-10T06:08:00.000-08:00

there is a time, in the early winter, that i dislike very much.

it's what happens right after the first snowfall melts but it's still grey and freezing. so instead of a lovely and chilly white winter world, you are living in a grey, dead, dry, cold nothing.

__________________________________

it is almost christmas.
you are probably thinking about being home for christmas, getting presents, having those warm, candle-lit sparkly kinds of christmas moments.

but all i can think of is that the closer christmas gets, the closer it is to christmas being over.
the closer it is to being over, the closer it is to being 2008.
the closer it is to being 2008, the closer it is to me needing to figure out what i'm doing with my life.
the closer that decision comes, the closer i feel overwhelmed... by everything.

and all i can do is go away by myself, pray, and wait.
wait.
wait.

it's official.

2007-12-07T08:40:00.000-08:00

nyc and a quarter-life crisis

2007-12-06T19:49:00.000-08:00

so.

this week has been something. and i've done a lot-lot-lot of thinking.

[okay, i suppose that most people blog about nice things. i guess i just want to be the person who never tries to pretend like i have it all together - i think i've fallen into that trap too much already. and i'm so tired of holding up that facade.
so these words are me, just being me, just being honest.]

last saturday i ventured to new york city with some kids from my church's youth group. i've been to the city many times, but some of my girls had never been. it is always so great to be there for someones first time in NYC. i mean... really, new york is just... incredible. always. i always fall in love with it all over again.

although as i get older, that love is something more of a fantastical intangible thing, sort of a sex and the city-glimmering and shimmery sequined aura of glamourous potential.
maybe that didn't make sense to you - and if so, you are probably a man.

anyway, the day trip sort of brought a thought to the forefront of my mind.
i believe that some people have better jobs than other people. and those people - well, to simplify, they lucked out.
take my brother-in-law for example. he's a youth pastor. and yes, i know that dealing with youth and their parents and ministry has it's challenges.
but what other job requires you to plan things like destination day trips, or where theme parks are an annual mandatory journey? or where your knowledge of old school snl or mad tv automatically makes you cool? i mean... come on. he has it made.

and to add to that, he has a great family [not just me, although i am pretty awesome]. my sister is currently pregnant with their fifth child, and my nephews and neices have it made - they are half-new yorkers, they are crazy smart and know how to have fun... and they are quick. i credit my brother in law with gifting them with all of the above.
not only all that, but since he's been in my family so long [i've known him since i was about six, which means he's been in my life for...seventeen years. wow.], he's one of the few people who know me really well and who can get away with saying critical things about me to my face. so... you know he must have something right going on.

to kind of put a purpose to this long... whatever this blog is, the other day i found myself wondering how he got so lucky or blessed.
and it suddenly occured to me that him and my sisters were all doing really well.
now.
they are all doing really well now. after all, when i came to think of it...they had had their rough times too... back in the day. when they were young.

i mean, i had to put some perspective into play. my brother in law is 37 and my sister [his wife] is 35. even my sister closest in age to me is nearly 32.
so here i am, sitting in my 23-year-old emo pity party stage, wondering why they have it so much better than me.
um.... duh. because they've been around a bit longer.

sometimes i'm a little slow, okay?

so here's my resolution, one perhaps you can join in on:
no more sitting around dwelling in my introspective depression.
no more feeling like a failure because i'm not like someone else...
instead here's to doing the most i can to live the most i can for the next seven years - because I plan on having a pretty good time of it once i'm 30.
maybe these past couple months have simply been God telling me to be patient.
maybe this is me letting you know it's okay to feel like you don't have it all together... because if He is in charge, who you will be is so much bigger than who you think you should be.

pray. wait. live. love. laugh.

a night in philly

2007-11-28T11:11:00.000-08:00

abandoned.
it may surprise you to know that i have used that word many times in my prayers and my journal to describe how i feel about life as of late. [late being the past... five months or so].
but i'm gonna guess that you've felt the same at some point. i'm gonna stretch out on this limb of mine and say that even now, you have said the same, even if you didn't use that word. maybe you used another that cast the same idea:

alone, solitary, lonely, cast aside, discarded, empty, forgotten, forsaken, friendless, jilted, left, neglected, outcast, rejected, shunned, stranded, deserted.

monday night, some friends and i braved the mist and headed to the Electric Factory where Rob Bell was stopping as part of his new tour.
there was so much insight and life that flowed from his words.

i'm not sure how many people grasped the last paragraph or so he spoke. but his parting words burned inside me. Bell spoke of a personal struggle he went through not long ago, where he was basically punishing himself to appear as if he had it all together. to live up to other people's expectations.
a friend took him out for lunch and midway just looked at him and said, "you don't have to live this way."
yeah, i know, Bell replied.
no, the friend said, you don't have to live this way.
yeah, yeah, i get it, bell said.
no. the friend shook his head.
you don't have to live this way.

you don't have to live this way.

you don't have to live this way.

he repeated himself over and over until rob finally realized he had to believe it. he had to not just agree, but live those words out.

i've been asking myself why i feel so alone. my family has not abandoned me - if anything, i am the one who can't wait to be independent of them. my friends near and far seem to enjoy being with me or talking to me.
perhaps the truth is that, i really feel like i am not being who i think everyone should see. perhaps i'm not living up to my expectations of who i want everyone to be impressed with. and perhaps, i have made a mental prison for myself, where i sit in a dingy corner and watch as days go bye, content to allow my joy and my peace to rot away.
perhaps part of the truth is that i'm not sure how to make it up to God for all the wrongs i've done. i'm not sure why he'd want to claim me.

Bell spoke on this too. He elaborated on our culture which insists that "the gods must be angry."
we all live in guilt and shame, and in the uncertainty of how much is enough until we finally get peace, some of us give up and some of us live in terrible states of mind.

the truth, most likely, might be too easy for our repressed minds. perhaps it is hard to unplug from the madness of a world which fights to own our minds and souls.
the truth, most definitely, is simple. we do, can, will have peace. we don't have to wrestle and sacrifice and feel overwhelmed.
Someone else did that for us. Someone else felt abandoned for us. Someone else screamed louder than the madness just for us to hear.

You don't have to live this way.

You don't have to live this way.

You don't have to live this way.

You don't have to live this way.

You don't have to live this way.

You don't have to live this way.

You don't have to live this way.

black friday secrets

2007-11-22T23:28:00.000-08:00

it's so strange to me the transformation that takes place when guests leave my house.
while they are around, i find myself much funnier, much wittier, much more full of life. i laugh, they laugh, we have a good time.
in fact you'd almost never know that i have to convince myself that i can make it every day when i wake up.
this morning my family who had come for the holiday was gathered around for family devotions - we spoke of blessings, of grace, of thankfulness.
my mother reminded us that the names she gave us meant something. she mentioned aloud, "amy - i named her amy joy. you girls have to be constantly working to remind yourselves of what God has given you. amie has to work every day to keep her joy."

before i knew it, i was wiping away tears.
because it is true. i hardly have the strength for the joy that used to come so easy. perhaps you didn't know, because it's so, so easy for me to bury the problems so we can all just laugh and smile.

my mom has seen the truth. she has seen me struggle with anger, with bitterness, with inconsolable sadness.
and the pain is worse when i come to points like this, where i can clearly see how much i've become affected by the bad. the bad friends, the bad relationships, the bad choices.
for so long, i really believed i could be strong enough to just suck it all up.
bad breakup? forget about it.
lied about? ignore it.
problems come? hide it.

i would take myself home, put myself in bed like a infant, where i screamed and cried till i fell asleep.
i woke up here, in the place where i sit, and think, and cry. i won't say that it's where i live, because i don't know for sure that any real living has taken place.

for sure, there have been high moments.
i have proved some things to myself -
the first being that in my brokenness, He still works.
the second, that even in my own self-hatred, i can have a sense of peace in who i am now. because i'm not hiding anymore.

but the biggest lesson was simply in facing that everyone will fail you.
everyone.
no matter how much family or friends do for you, no matter what some may say to you, there will be a moment that no one understands. no one will get it. no one will want to stay with you.
and you can feel so very alone. so isolated. so unwanted. by everyone.

Everyone, that is, but Him. and if you can just get over yourself for one second, if you can close your eyes against the self-pity and the self-hate, if you can just let go...
He will always be waiting. always. always. always.

and that is the hope i look toward.
do i anticipate a different future? yes, yes.
i anticipate a future that looks identical to this:

chin up friends. take a breath. breathe His name.
you are not alone.

There will come soft rains...

2007-11-13T04:57:00.000-08:00

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
and words will die down till there is no more sound;
The stars will shine brighter than ever before,
And the breaths will come steady like waves on the shore;
We'll lie under trees, we'll stare at the sky,
Till truth overcomes and there are no more lies;
And we shall never know anymore fear,
When we find ourselves unafraid of the tears;
No one could break us, no one could try,
When we find each other in the last days of time;
And Fire and Stars will turn envious green,
When I and You are all that has ever been.

"the greatest enemy to the movement of christianity is christians" - erwin raphael macmanus

2007-11-10T07:50:00.000-08:00

poverty.
abortion.
AIDS.
politics.
smoking.
eco-awareness.
civil rights.
global warming.
corruption.
aesthetic freedom.
christianity.

without a cause, who are you?
introspection is often what brings about some huge realizations for me.
we have to be rebels With a cause. we have to be barbarians who are willing to go to battle for others, for a cause. because when we sit around and get lazy, we'll just start judging the people around us.
i have been doing a lot of thinking lately about why it seems like so many people in the church are just straight up hypocrites. what makes one christian think they have the right to judge others? why is a christian only supposed to look like, sound like, dress like, and be like one particular thing?

i don't believe it. i just don't
living in minneapolis, where there are places like the uptown church and the salvage yard, i know better. i know that you can be covered in tattoos and piercings and you aren't any better than the blond girl in pearls at the "right" church.
i know that i've heard christians swear and seen them drink and usually those christians are the ones who have no pretense, who know what grace is, who fall on their face before God and mean it.
i know i've seen christians who don't smoke, don't meet friends at bars and don't hang out with those that do - and they have no love. they are acidic and harsh and judging.

i haven't said all this to say, yes, go drink and smoke and party because there's grace. no, there are much better written and longer books on the subject.
what i am saying is, if you are going to call yourself a christian, if you are going to say that you are Christlike - i'd rather you be the Christ who went to sinners houses and had grace and love than be the pharisee who prays where everyone sees your self-righteousness and looks down on those who don't pretend to be perfect.

if you think you are a great christian, ask yourself if you have decieved yourself.
i personally often have a problem calling myself "like-Christ" because I don't know if i can ever achieve that goal. because it is a goal, it is something i must continue to chase after every moment of every day.

read: the ragamuffin gospel - brennan manning
the signature of jesus - brennan manning
simply christian - n.t. wright
rock priest - david pierce

inappropriate and so awesome.

2007-11-06T16:09:00.000-08:00

[be forewarned - this post is very superficial and not very deep]

well, i just watched Knocked Up.
and, all justifications aside [yes, rated R, nudity, language, whatever],
i loved it.

i loved it so much that the whole last hour of the movie, i kept saying over and over again "i'd freaking marry you, Seth Rogen. Marry me. I'll have your child."
for real, like, how much more my type could he be:

the movie actually suprised me - i was proud that a working, successful woman decided to keep her baby in the pressurized environment of LA, and how this mainly "guy" comedy's biggest message was, eventually you have to be mature, grow up and take responsibilty for your actions. good job.

and, also, it was freaking hilarious.

i still feel like my favorite line was right after the one night stand when the brother in law of Katherine Heigl's character watches her and this guy she just slept with walk out of the house in the morning. He turns to his little girl and says:t
"Don't ever do what they just did."
and she says "I'm gonna do it!!!"
and he comes back with: "you are?? Sounds like someone's getting homeschooled!"

okay...

seriously - i'm ready for more out of this life i've been given. i mean, not having a baby, i'm not ready for that at all... but i think i'm ready for something new. at the end of this year there are about three or four big goals i have determined will be accomplished. so wish me good luck, or toast me at your next party.

and then tell me what your big goals are for this next 12 months.

weeks go by...

2007-11-03T19:25:00.000-07:00

This week has been ... diverse, I suppose. I often feel that I should simply purchase a digital recorder to carry with me so I can catch the stream of conciousness that propels my life.

Monday night was my beautiful neice's first birthday and her parent's thirteenth anniversary. it was loud [thanks to my 11 and 10 year old nephews and my attention-needy 6 year old neice] and between my mom and my brother-in-law there was enough dry humour and dead-pan delivery for our own Gilmore Girls/The Office episode.

This is my cute-as-a-button neice Elena and my nephew Ben.

This is my nephew Josh and I doing what Josh and I do.

Tuesday I went shopping with a friend and decided to make a major fashion change, which will take some time but should be in place by my birthday - stay tuned for more [!].

Wednesday saw me reunited with my wig collection which had been hiding out on the east coast.

Thursday and Friday were full of Fall activity, and more presents were given today for my neice Alexa's Seventh birthday party , who was born 7 days before my birthday... She had a tea party for her little friends... it was very cute, even though they really drank hot chocolate instead, thanks to today's chilly weather. My mother and I hit the mall and were overwhelmed by the early tidal wave of holiday shoppers - and of course by the incredible holiday sales [!].

and yet, somehow, today I thought to myself:
It's probably the need for a greater purpose that's killing me. If I didn't feel the need for something greater, something bigger, something more - if that didn't matter, I would probably be happy. I would probably be content. I would not want, or complain, or feel trapped. If only I didn't know better. If only I hadn't already tasted it.

If only.

______________

Think of this as the DVD bonus track to this blog: here is an outtake from our little birthday party on Monday...

kids.

2007-10-23T08:00:00.000-07:00

i'm carving pumpkins today. with my neice. who is six.
last night she saw me for the first time since Friday and said "WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR HAIR?!"
and i said, "i don't know, i woke up and it was like this."
she cocked her head and said "... REALLY?"
and i said no.
she asked me again "what really happened to your hair?
i said, " i got bored and i had a marker in my hand so i colored all over my hair."
she looked at me for a good twenty seconds. "..reeeallly?"
no, i said.
tell me what really happened, she begged.
and my sister said, "your aunt has mood hair, like a mood ring. she is feeling dark and mysterious so her hair is now dark brown."
and my 10 year old nephew said, "yeah or she has a lot of hate." :)

I love them.... a lot.

Reprieve

2007-10-18T21:20:00.000-07:00

have you ever heard a song that took you back to a certain time or place?

Once while in my high school art class, a boy [who i believe i had a crush on at the time] played a tape to give us some background music.
he looked right at me and pushed play. and gave me what would build and grow and become a part of my life. a part of who i am and who i want to be.
and today, after years of being forgotten, i heard it again.

the song?

Amy's Song
Switchfoot

Amy's gone
And time rolls on
How far? how fast? how long?

The last time we saw Amy
She was headed for the shore
Fighting off the volatile gray skies

She said now begins forever
And that no one knows their time
We bid farewell not knowing
That might be our last good-bye

Amy was a fighter
She cut like Casius Clay
She burned like a fire
Despite these rains

Where time was a question
She only knew one song:
She's singing, "how far, how fast, how
long?"

Salvation is a fire
In the midnight of the soul
It lights up like a can of gasoline

Yeah, she's a freedom fighter
She's a stand up kind of girl
She's out to start a fire
In a bar code plastic world

When everything stops moving
And I stop to catch my breath
And ride my train of thought
All the way round

My thoughts return to Amy
And the fire she's begun
She came when we were freezing
And left us burning up

existential poster child

2007-10-17T09:33:00.000-07:00

i was once told that i was the poster child for existentialism.

Existentialism asserts that people actually make decisions based on what has meaning to them rather than what is rational. If you've been around someone searching for identity, you've probably heard them say things very similar to the laments of Kierkegaard's literary character Young Man in Repetition:

How did I get into the world? Why was I not asked about it and why was I not informed of the rules and regulations but just thrust into the ranks as if I had been bought by a peddling shanghaier of human beings? How did I get involved in this big enterprise called actuality? Why should I be involved? Isn't it a matter of choice? And if I am compelled to be involved, where is the manager—I have something to say about this. Is there no manager? To whom shall I make my complaint?

it was stunning to find questions of my own that were in the same vein - but there they were, tucked away on a scrap of paper in my bible...

what right do i have to think i know the answer to anything? who am i to think i'm right and everyone else is wrong? what purpose does it serve for me to be irritated by others' percieved ignorance? what prompts my disparaging remarks about others, simpy for a laugh or for self-elevation?
why do anger and despair seem to be the recurring sources of my most self-loathing behavior? why does every promotional video, commercial, story, picture and symbol for any and every people-drivin cause or mission bring me to tears?
when will the person i want to be and the woman God wants me to be ever show up?
How would my life be different if, like paul and john, i walked and talked with Jesus? Would I trust more? Or, like peter, would i still react emotionally to situations? How did peter change, and when will I learn to do the same?

it's not that these questions don't still plague me... it's just that after weeks of looking at them over and over again, i'm struck by how... well, how self-centered it all seems. i guess i've just made the decision that if i focus on other people and not myself... well, maybe all the answers will come.

do the public some service.

2007-10-06T13:07:00.000-07:00

it finally happened.

i am way too young. i am nearly still in childhood.[don't tell my mother i said that]

last night the final straw broke my carefully constructed facade and reminded me why i am SO ready to leave anywhere there are WASPy, patriarchal, ignorance ridden people that i keep meeting over and over again like i do in the town i'm currently residing in.
whew - got all that out of my system. okay, i know, i know - why all this melodrama?

credit it all back to a tiny faux-red-haired woman, whose anorexic-sharp features bring to mind a dull-colored pecking wren, seemed to feel that i need help getting "set up."

as if that's what every girl is looking for - ick.
gross.

i guess it didn't help that:
- she thought i was years younger than I am [as if any girl who can legally purchase cigarettes should also be planning her wedding ASAP].
- the man/boy she tried to push me on is a FRESHMAN IN COLLEGE and doesn't even have facial hair yet.
- she did it in front of his 14-yr-old sister. way to influence the next generation.

ARE
YOU
SERIOUS
?

-----------

on a slightly related note, i found myself in the computer/software department of the bookstore the other day. yup, me and some slender bespectacled indian and asian men rockin the adobe section. i felt very secure in my successfully single self.

taking care of business

2007-09-30T08:50:00.000-07:00

first - please note that the following links are now located to your right if you scroll down a bit>

- consu.me
this blog is all about the most awesome random things you never knew you absolutely needed. trust me.
- the minneapoline
street style from the mpls
- life is a red carpet
candaceroseknight : fashionista, communications professional, designer, muse of the masses
- the dreaming tree
d.b. : musician, subtle comedian, paramour of the dirty south
- the one that got away
jessica... tales of a musician's life in the square states
- myspace
you know. it's my space to put stuff.
- secrets
frank's ps site

-----------------------

i stayed home sick today. the first sunday morning i haven't gone to church in about a year.
ugh...
of course this means i've been on the couch in my sweats, under covers, watching an america's next top model marathon of cycle 8, eating yogurt to try and flush all the crap inside me out [i didn't mean to write it that literally - but yeah]. and during commericials i decided to update this page - and also i've searched online for local hair suppliers so i can get my fake hair asap.
that's what happens when you watch a fashion show all day - you think to yourself, i too can be a model with just a weave and an eyebrow wax. let's just forget that i'm three-four inches shorter than even the absolute shortest model. that's not important.
i need a shower.
maybe i'll get lucky and throw up soon. blehhhhh.

the collection

2007-09-25T09:20:00.000-07:00

"you talk about your ex-boyfriends all the time." obviously, the teenage boy in my church's youth group didn't know what he was saying.

"that's because they make such great stories," i said with a smirk, and all the kids around us laugh.

"are men really that bad?" was his reply.

"no, they just don't try hard enough." said i. and all the kids around us laugh.

existential study one

2007-09-19T06:03:00.000-07:00

when i was 9 my parent's bought me talking battleship. which was awesome. and i cried when i opened it. to make a long story short, i had thought they were going to buy it for my cousin, and for some reason i just thought talking battleship was the coolest most awesome board game ever. it was electronic!
and unlike all the other board games i owned, you could play with just one person.

this was important, because i was alone a lot as a child. my sisters were in college and living on their own and having grown-up lives and my parents were both working full-time and just generally being old.

i hardly ever had anyone my own age around. i guess i did at school. it was a harder crowd at my elementary school; i was so used to doing whatever i wanted whenever i wanted and having the adults in my life tell me how brilliant and talented i was. but my childhood friends weren't so amazed by my drama and sense of showmanship.

i had imaginary friends for a really long time. they weren't really imaginary - they were my imagined versions of the kids in my class. they always thought i had such great ideas and they loved what i loved and all the boys thought i was hot stuff. even at school, when someone just looked at me with an expression that just meant they didn't understand what i was about, i would just imagine what their reaction would have been in my perfect world.

Black and White Memories

2007-09-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

my mother said i have my grandmother's lips.

her mother was what you picture in your mind when you think 1940's glamour - the red, red lipstick, the pincurled hair, perfectly arched eyebrows. even though all the pictures i have of her are black and white, you can tell - she was gorgeous. stunning.
she never wore any designer clothes - she was a single mom who did whatever she could to provide for her four kids. it wasn't common to be divorced back then - it was actually taboo. my grandmother, Nancy, might as well have had a big scarlet D on her chest - but she didn't care what anyone else thought. her husband had left her and, with her chin up, she did what she had to do.
she never remarried, even though she really was quite beautiful and probably could have done so quite easily. my mom said it was because she was so bitter over my grandfather leaving. a few years after he left, my mother's oldest brother was accidentally shot and killed. that added grief sealed my grandmother's fate. she kept to herself, raised her kids.

i don't remember that lady, because the only version of my grandmother i ever met was very very different that the woman she had been through all that. the grandmother i remember was sweet-natured, smiled a lot, was round and soft and hugged a lot. her eyes were piercing blue - and since neither my mother nor my father have blue eyes, i have to assume i got my eyes from her too.

i got my height from her also - she never got much above 5'2". I was just an inch or two taller than her the last time i saw her, which would have been when i was about 11 or 12. she died not long after that. which means i have not seen her for over 10 years. a decade. i haven't seen any recent pictures of her, just the black and white ones my mother has in old albums.

but in the shades of grey, i see a part of myself. i see the same lips, the same eyes, the same determination. i wish i could meet that woman, i wish i could ask her what her dreams had been, i wish i could ask her if she ever loved again.

perhaps one day.

awards/rewards

2007-09-16T19:10:00.001-07:00

today i heard words that i have heard over and over again.
i suppose that you have to be ready to hear certain things before you ever truly hear them.

if i want to truly live wholly devoted to something i can be passionate about, if i want to just find that one thing that will bring me joy and all the things i've been hiding away in my heart, then what idiocy it is for me to think that my mind is capable of figuring it all out?

it's only when i admit that i just to let go.to trust..to accept grace... that is when i find myself really seeing things clearly, really breathing easy, finally feeling true peace and love - His peace and love.

so here i am, seeing crystal clearly the things i truly love, truly want, truly am ready to go after, and all the things i need to do to get there - all in His timing.

although i will tell you that after watching the emmy's [yes, i'm an awards show addict. this is the ... fifth? sixth one of the year? that was worth watching anyway...] i still have a small part of me that honestly truly believes that somewhere an agent will walk up to me and decide i need to get cast in the next action-comedy with jeremy piven, ryan renyolds and dane cook...

and also - i love the new macy's commercials.

what do you love???

--------
on another note, where are you going to be in May? let me know...

my traveling companion...

2007-09-07T14:45:00.000-07:00

Today I thought about my car. Just bear with me for a moment.
My car has been to some pretty far away places, and strangely, it's the only thing that has traveled with me on all those trips. no boyfriends, no friends at all really, not even any other possession has gone on every single adventure. For some reason, that made me appreciate it even more.

My car journeyed with me to the flat lands of omaha three times, and spent a whole summer there. Who would ever have thought I would spend time in Nebraska??? Probably no one, but only my car saw me through that venture.

My car traveled from the east coast to Minneapolis countless times. Together we went over the appalachian mountains and saw some majestic scenery... cleveland, columbus, indianapolis, pittsburg, chicago, urbana, milwaulkee, baltimore - we've done it.

One spur-of-the moment journey to duluth with the girls - my car was what kept us from freezing - mostly.

my tri-state sisters? no problem. just hop in and drive to new jersey, back to delaware and out to baltimore/d.c. area and we've done the whole circuit.

and that's just a little bit of all i thought about when i pondered my car's history today. it made me a tiny bit sad to think that it held such a role in my life and i had never named it. so, i did today.

meet gigi:

better days

2007-09-05T20:18:00.000-07:00

The other day, my mom asked me if i missed subways.
Yes, i replied. I miss subways.
I miss corner cafes. I miss good public transportation. I miss catching taxis and wandering around, listening to the hum of foreign tongues and the bustle of open-air markets.
I also miss my uptown cliche taste. I miss the dinkytown atmosphere of niche dining and darkly-lit bars. I miss my downtown walks. I miss my bus adventures, I miss my myriad of available concerts and live music options, I miss my artistic inspiration of rivers, bridges, parks, corner stores and apartment life.

But here, I have done some of the best thinking. I have realized quite the few things about myself, things I have only partly thought through in the past.

I am meant to travel. I would announce myself a nomad if only i knew my mother wouldn't faint straight away. But there it is - I just have too much I want to see. Places I want to know as my home - Seattle, Paris, Morrocco, Boston, Moscow.

I am meant to give myself over to art. My camera, in all it's manual glory, is begging me to take it out and the temptation of crimson dark rooms chant my name like an arabian nighttime melody. My new easel sits in my corner and my paints are nearly tipping over in anticipation of being used for another new project. My ruby journal lies next to my bedside, encouraging me to start again on the novel i am meant to write.

I may meet someone who will love me someday. He will want to see the world with me, his voice will be my inspiration for my creative pursuits, his arms will be the happy ending for my story. Our arguments will be forgettable, but our ventures will be forever.

this is the reality. this is my reality. this moment is a temporary resting, much needed and much appreciated.

i will see my city again. perhaps soon. i will walk the familiar streets, see familiar faces. my heart will be full again.

i will have my subways back again.

_________________________

lately she don't care
for a warmer breeze
or shade around the base
of the maple trees
spring was on the mountain
we climbed upon
stopped to see how high
and how far we'd gone
i said, 'love is waiting
and better days'
she smiled and placed a kiss
on my waiting face
promise what you will
something good for me
time will take it all

don't stay what you are

2007-09-04T18:13:00.000-07:00

i watched the children come today.
i watched the sunlight start to fade away.
the scent of change and the sounds of passing time
dance over the place i sit and wait and rhyme.
i felt the memories take thier toll.
i felt the ageing of my soul.
other cities and other towns
call me with their lights and sights and sounds.
i see the changes coming soon.
i see it beyond the stars and moon.
the blade of Saturn and the coming of Pluto
loom as reminders of the deeds i've sown.
i feel my resolve become strong and quick.
i feel ready to be chosen and to pick.
the moment is now and the alarm's silent ring
means ACT! MOVE! SHOUT! SING!

inside the actor's studio

2007-08-26T11:11:00.000-07:00

What is the name on your birth certificate?
Amy Joy Sturgeon

What is your favorite word?
illuminated

What is your least favorite word?
moist

What turns you on [creatively, spiritually or emotionally]?
revolutionary discussion or action

What turns you off?
judgemental or hypocritical attitudes

What sound or noise do you love?
the sound of the ocean

What sound or noise do you hate?
alarm clocks

What is your favorite curse word?
as of late i've been trying to stop entering every room and saying, "what's up, bitches?" i find great humor in the sentiment. but it's a bit sophomoric.

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
fashion design or teaching. it's a toss up.

What profession would you not like to do?
anything repetitive and done inside a cubicle.

If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
"there you are! do you want to help out with project runway season 87- streets of gold edition?"

bait and switch

2007-08-21T18:32:00.000-07:00

it has been raining here. the grass and trees are so green. the air has that crisp taste to it. the ground is soft.

for some reason he is on my mind. it's strange, how he seems to come and go, in and out of my thoughts, in and out of my memories, in and out of my life. i'm not sure even how this cycle seemed to start - it's hard to truly pinpoint the exact time we met so many years ago.

no matter how we met, every book and television show and movie i watch have traces of his lingering. certain scenarios of our history have become a hazy transparency over my reality.

the mind games make me wish that instead of him, i could really focus on someone who really mattered enough to be involved in my everyday. that the person who hijacked my thoughts anywhere, anytime was the One who i've devoted everything to. albeit, that consecration has occurred over and over again - but i'm sure we've all had that feeling.

i'm not sure that i can shake the recurring reveries, but i can say that my mind will no longer only dwell on the man from my past. with each thought, my hope is to have it be a reminder to me to focus on the real Man in my life, my Redeemer.

the rain has stopped for now. here's to a bright tomorrow...

run toward the future...

2007-08-15T14:11:00.000-07:00

i love finding others who can express the same things i have in my heart.
here was a serendipitous find...

i'm ready to say goodbye to all the bad memories of the past, take the good memories and move on to the great that lies ahead. it's now or never, and i'm ready.
i'm dedicated to being the person i've always been meant to be. the one God created me to become...

crazy how i'm just thinking that i could be here in the next baker's dozen months...

--------
i'm so in love with the ask.com commercials.

also, this week i love that i'm super busy. and finally working!!!
here's to all ya'll heading back to college...
--------

day to remember.

2007-08-11T07:36:00.000-07:00

i came out this week.
i audibly told people that i want to work in missions.

scratch that. no wanting. i NEED to.

there are huge roadblocks on this dangerous path... i have to pay down my debts, i need to get over myself a little more, i need to trust more before i head to this part of the world where people die for their faith all the time. ALL the time.
but i'm willing. i'm all too ready.

"Our Mission
Our Mission: Offering the light of Jesus Christ in the darkest areas of the world

Offering the light of Christ takes more than a tour
a guidebook
a museum visit
Offering the light of Christ takes relationship
commitment
heart

we are not tourists
we are believers in a future for those who do not believe"

i am ready. i am willing. i am committed.

a nightly visit

2007-08-10T04:03:00.000-07:00

i forgot the city i used to love.
perhaps it's because, when i moved back to america, it made it easier to block out the truly deep memories of where i lived in Kiev. no, i still would pull some surface things out, some shallow recollections of circumstance.

but last night, as i tried to fall asleep, i suddenly found myself in Kiev. my eyes flashed open, and my heart raced. i shook my head and closed my eyes again, only to find myself flying through the city all over again.
i found myself climbing the steps of the Ztsurc...

..seeing all the cars and stores on Prospekt Peremogi..

..smiling to myself at the huge department store CDS on the main drag in downtown..

then i strolled around the traffic till i stood at the steps of the National Opera House and thought of the many nights i had found myself there...

and on and one i went... seeing all the places i knew so well... seeing things that are no longer there.
my heart craves to see and touch these places again.
but i know that it will never be quite the same. never like it was.

____________________________________________________________

today is the day it all changes.
8/10/07 07:42

smoke signals...

2007-07-30T20:27:00.000-07:00

so, while it rained this afternoon I watched coffee and cigarettes .
it was perfect weather for the duo... but i only had coffee.
my mouth watered for some cigs. i don't know why. i haven't smoked in a l..o..n..g time, and even when i did, it was intermittently and socially. not consistently. i'm no addict.

damn, i could go for a smoke.
....

-----

i think i found my new job today. working for a motivational speaker.
it'd be sweet.
i've always wanted to be a motivational speaker.

i was here.

2007-07-25T16:46:00.000-07:00

there is too much in my heart lately.
memories of my childhood ambushed me today as i sat and watched the water... i could smell pefectly cooked fresh seafood, i heard the familiar cloping of shoes on the wooden boardwalk, i felt sun shine over me.
but it only served as a temporary distraction from the troubling thoughts, the ones i wished i could have pitched into the ocean and just shrugged off. i want to just live without caring, i want to touch peoples lives so regularly that i don't have to think about it. i want to make the world better.
i want to live bigger than myself... but i can't seem to escape the material. i can't seem to see past trivial things, i can't seem to forget the past, i can't seem to ignore the future.
at the beginning of this summer, i was ready to move past any insecurity, any self-doubt. i moved towards the sun, drawn by the coastal memories of my youth, drawn by the hope of a new day, the promise of change. all i could dream of was history in the making, a new page in changing the world...
i'm not paralyzed by these events completely... but it does somehow feel that time has simply become changing light and shadows across my face as i sit and watch the world go on around me. i have found myself losing hope. i have found myself cursing my blessings. and all for such small temporary things.
but the existentialist inside of me is not satisfied with writing off my tears as a phase. i need to know why i'm here, who i am now, and what it all means.
but more than making it all about me, i need to know how i'll lend my passion and love to the world around me when i am so low myself...

but i have said i will wait for His timing. so i'll sit, in the increasing shadows, in the drifting days, and count my blessings, bless newfound hope, and let my fragile dreams grow stronger...

a moment in time

2007-07-11T00:23:00.000-07:00

once upon a time, i was a much different person.

there was moment in my life when things nearly the opposite of now. and today, when i finally let myself believe in dreams i haven't had for a long time, the tears that i shed were from years of hiding from the me i could have been.
no more. i am done with hiding. i am done with saying i can't do it, i can't be what i thought, i can't get what i want.
i am blessed, and i will no longer horde it - i will live to bless others.
i have joy, and unless i share it, it will die.
i know peace, and if i don't dwell in it, misery will overtake me.

i have pondered possible regrets, but i refuse that label. i might have made mistakes, but i have learned lessons that will be with me forever.
i have known love, and while i sometimes fear i will never know it again, i resolve to take full advantage of the passion and devotion i can live my life with while i am independent.

to tomorrow, and to dedication and great expectations...

year of the locust

2007-07-01T12:56:00.000-07:00

Movies are not real life.
It is important for me to state this, because the frequency with which i watch movies often causes me to live in a fantasy of wishing Life was like a movie. I tend to have quite the overactive imagination, and often movies really affect me emotionally. I remember when I was about 11 I was watching A League of Thier Own, and for some reason there was a moment at the end when the main characters are elderly and they discover that one of their former friends has died. I started crying about as hard as if I had met this woman in reality. My mom took one look at me and, with a harshness probably too heavy for a middle-schooler, scolded, "Amy, stop it - you didn't even cry that hard at your grandmother's funereal."

Since then, I've worked harder to have realistic reactions to cinematic events.
But, I'll confess. I cried at The Notebook. Then again, so did my Army Staff sargeant brother-in-law. So There.

I have digressed a little. The point I'm trying to make is to make sure we all realize movies and life are not equal. However much I have wished for a perfect musical soundtrack to accompany my daily life events, despite the many times i've tried to make a dramatic entrance/exit... well, you get the point. Live is not a filmed production.

Now, let me add a second clause.

Movies are not real life, but my life has never been real.
Yes. yes. I know. That sounds a little melodramatic. Don't think i don't see you already rolling your eyes.

Here is where I get to explain what I mean by real. In the sense of real being tied to reality, and knowing that most people have different views of reality, I think it makes complete sense for me to state that my reality is not the same as pretty much anyone else's. In other words, real is something that makes you normal, and I don't think anything about me is normal. Thank you, yes, I know you will tell me that normal is non-existent, that no one is normal, that we all are differnt.

Bull.

Pretty much everyone you know went to High School in America, right? Pretty much everyone you know has parents that work jobs in America, right? Is there some type of edifice where your parents reside that you might think of as Home? Is there a town or city that you think of as your hometown? Do you still see some people who you went to high school with? Do members of your family live within ten hours of your current house?

Okay then. It's settled - you have some recognizable semblence of normalcy in your life. Me, not so much.

It seems to follow that real and normal are almost interchangeable words. We all know now that my life has never been normal. ["But amy," you say," I want to know all about these unnormal things about you." Okay, sure, we'll talk. First I'm making a point. Then we can have discussion time.]

Faced with the thought of living a life as the ODD ONE has sent me nosediving into a huge vat of melencholy and unsurety.

Let me illustrate this more clearly for you.
One recent afternoon i found myself coming across the last ten minutes of an old teen movie [Can't Hardly Wait] and for whatver reason I could not turn the channel.
I started thinking to myself - why do i feel like i never had a real, actual high school experience? why did i never know what it was like to be in a REAL high school drama production? Why did i not attend a school that had real dances and proms and parties and events? Why didn't I get the chance to start my journalism career in a institution that had options like a newspaper or a literary magazine?

Fact time. Having attended high school overseas left me with great advantages. I lived internationally, expanded my worldview at a young age, became passionate about those less fortunate, learned a difficult foreign language and saw my personal faith in action.

On the other hand, I spent my teenage years at a high school with limited extracurriculers. Co-ed sports teams? check. poorly funded arts programs? check. honors classes? no. I was in two musicals, one in which I held the leading female role. {of course i did}. Instead of proms or dances, we had banquets, which was a formal dinner and games afterward. There just wasn't a lot that was very similar to a common high school in America.

Okay, okay - no, i'm not going to let this evolve into a huge pity party for myself... I promise that I never will. There will always be a point to what I'm saying. For now, I just wanted to make two things clear.

One - more than anyone else, my life was nowhere near normal, which makes it seem almost unreal.

Two - If movies are not real life, then why the heck has no one made a movie about ME?

__________________________________________________________________________
And I will restore or replace for you the years that the locust has eaten... joel2:25

the stunning beauty of living in limbo

2007-06-29T07:19:00.000-07:00

this couch where i'm sitting is almost overplush, but from it i can see how green the trees outside are. it's just rained, so there is a soft breeze blowing in the sliding glass doors, and i smell the sweet scent of the impatiens that are blooming on our patio...
it was lovely to wake up to the pitterpatter of rain on my window, and i smiled, despite having stayed up late arranging the freshly painted furniture and finally putting away all of my clothes and trying to decide what to put where on my walls.

barely 17 days since i finally arrived back east - how can it seem so much longer?
in light of it being only slightly longer than 2 weeks, i suppose it's not a big deal that i'm still unemployed. there was a crisis moment - my car died, and it seemed like i needed to get a job RIGHT THEN.
thankfully, it seems to be resurrecting [and, thanks to my dad, it seems as though all the little quirks it had are being fixed - no more ghetto door handles, or blinking lights on my dashboard or dents in the bumper...]

so here i sit - my mothers quiet voice is reading great theology to me, and the hum of a fan pulling in the wet air from outside is lulling my mind to a place of focus.

until something happens...

spiritual expansion is ... excruciating. - l. ravenhill

i don't follow christ because of the promise of heaven over hell, or because of the need to belong to a group, or because my parents did - i am in desparate need of christ in my life, because without him my mind and soul languish in vanity, depression, insanity, and hate. with him, there is peace of mind, beauty around me, joy and excitement in all of life, and a indescribable and uncontainable love and passion for those who are in desparate situations, whether physical or mental or spiritual. and when my pride gets hold of me, and i think i know how to earn that peace or joy, or i think i can handle life on my own - he still is with me. he waits, hand outstreched, for the moment i realize that my flaws can never be fixed on my own. he is the giver of life - and life that is worth anything. - me

if i make my bed in hell, he is there with me - david, king of israel.

honest.

2007-06-20T21:26:00.000-07:00

it is hard to be a twenty something.

even more when stuff happens to you that you can do nothing to fix.
------------------------------------------------------------------

when i was fifteen, i was diagnosed with a condition where one of my organs was overproducing a few hormones and was causing my metabolism to skyrocket, which basically also caused my heart rate to soar.
to prevent me from taking 14 pills a day to keep cardiac arrest at bay, my parents listened to doctors who said that the best way to "cure" me was to subject me to radiation. this would eradicate the organ that produced those hormones, and instead i would simply take one pill every day. for ever.
simple? not really.

what my parents did not realize was that my condition and it's treatment was still highly experimental... the doctors kinda thought they knew what they were doing. but not completely.

so i underwent the radiation. i was given the prescription for my medication.
and then it needed to be adjusted. and then again. and again. and again. from .75 mgs to 125 mgs to 200 mgs to 175 mgs.
oh, and then of course the things the doctors never told us - that the medication which i now HAD to take had some of the most potent side effects, which they had no idea how to fix, and which they had no complete understanding of the depth of.

lack of focus.
exhaustion.
depression.
weight gain.
irritability.
low energy.
insomnia.

so now i have maybe 5-8 hours a day where i am not falling asleep or too worn out to move. but ican't sleep when night finally comes. i can't focus on what i need to be doing or saying or reading. i have more curves than i did when i was in high school and of course i can't lose any weight because my metabolism has basically bottomed out. and all of this, naturally, just adds to the overall sense of depression... it takes a lot for me to finally leave the house, to be around others, to not think of how much negative there is.

but thankfully, i'm starting to maybe see some light around the bend.
i'm being forced out of the house, thanks to my mom and my sisters.
i'm too busy getting settled to let myself dwell on how exhausted i am.

it's just so crazy to me that doctors can simply not be honest and say, we don't really know how to fix what's wrong with you and this is really just a shot in the dark...
i know it's going to get better. it has to. i'm not going to let this stupid thing get the best of me.

note the "long-term effects not known..."

the good, the bad

2007-06-19T22:38:00.000-07:00

one week =

one little league playoff game - lost.
one gallon of paint for new furniture - mixed.
one amazing queen sized bed - gifted.
two sparring partners in theology and politics - gained.
three children's hugs and kisses - recieved.
three sisters calling for visits - added.
three cars registered in three different places - driven.
5 loads of laundry - miraculously found washed.
8 home cooked meals - eaten.
18 job applications - completed.
961 cable channels - watched.
7 days in a week my mother has made me feel fat - accomplished.
7 days in a week my mother has told me she loves me/is proud of me even though i constantly find myself asking her why she is giving-me-looks/making-a-face/taking-food-away-from-me - amused.
3 movies watched out of boredom - tossed.
1 car needed to be reregistered in new state - apathy-stricken.
1 picture of former flame and new wife pushed in face by his mother - escaped.
0 blogs written.
0 jobs found.
0 days felt attractive, accomplished, fulfilled.

7 days in anticipation of new job, new opportunities, new experiences, new
everything - spent.

i need to write. perhaps tomorrow.