cheese is good, in small quantities

 My Valentine's Day was wonderful. A year ago, yesterday, I celebrated that day with the same person, but in a completely different context. Little did I know... :) :)

Anyway, I won't blab on and on about what he did for me or what I did for him, but I would like to share my thoughts for the holiday.

Valentine's Day is a great day to celebrate people you care about-- family, friends, lovers... whoever. BUT, it can also make you painfully aware of what you're lacking, if you're in that category.

So before I blab on, I'd like to share two songs that have really been getting under my skin, lately. The first song is from Mumford and Sons (duh), and the second is a song I listened to a lot when I was in high school. I'm slightly embarrassed to admit that both of these songs brought me to legitimate tears this week.

But you are not alone in this
And you are not alone in this
As brothers we will stand,
and we'll hold your hand.
Hold your hand


And I will tell the night
And whisper, "lose your sight,"
but I can't move the mountains
for you

•   “Anyway, on the cover of the box, Steinbeck chiseled four Hebrew letters which spell out the word "timshel,"a word that loosely translates as "thou mayest;" the word suggests that we as humans, with the consciousness we "achieved" by eating from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Garden of Eden, can in every moment CHOOSE our behavior; we can choose between good and evil.”
  The Huffington Post: Claudia Ricci: The Magic of Fiction Writing; The Mysteries of Consciousness

As we brace for the sound
Of the deafening crowd
Screaming "Lord, have mercy now",
I hear the words of my King
As they echo underneath
"My hand awaits, rise to your feet".


But die as we may, Your love always remains
And we cannot afford to be afraid anymore.


Let's stay the course and hold on tight.
Jesus Christ Satellites are calling
A-O, We're not alone.



Physically alone, or not... it's extremely good to know that I am not alone, wherever I may be. Loneliness has deep roots, and it's really good for me to remember that the Father can reach those.

Cliche, maybe, but on holidays with hearts coming out of everyone's eyes, sometimes a little bit of reassurance in the form of cheese is okay in my book.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.

war-torn world

People let us down.

this city breathes the plague of loving things more than their creators

He won't.

so hold on to what you believe, in the light, when the darkness has robbed you of all your sight

And there, my soul stirs.

Shower Time!

 I hate showers. I like being clean-- don't get me wrong-- but I detest baths/showers/anything that requires me to undress and be soaked and then get dry again in a decent amount of time. I don't even dry off when I get out of the shower. I just walk around sopping wet in a towel until I eventually dry. There is no terry-cloth drying going on for me... (My mother hated this particular quality. "ELIZABETH, THERE ARE PUDDLES. HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO DRY OFF?!")

But anyway, showers have their upsides, I suppose. For one thing, whoever invented the shampoo and conditioner PUMPS is a genius. There is almost nothing more annoying when you're in the dreaded shower and you're trying to pick up a plastic bottle that is too big for your hands and you're all wet and slimy with soap and it slips out of your hands and crashes into the tub. Then you get to fish around to find it, if you're me and are blind as a bat without contacts, and then try and muster enough awkward strength to get the stuff out!

ANYWAY, there aren't many distractions in the shower. My phone isn't loud enough to play music, and they haven't invented water-proof books yet. (There is, apparently, a way to water-proof your iPhone for $60?? That will destroy me.) I shower alone (ha), so there's no one to talk to, and I can't make lists in the shower. Therefore, I've eliminated every possible distraction from my thoughts.

These past few weeks, I've had plenty on my mind during shower time. Unfortunately, that leaves time for sad thoughts, scared thoughts, frustrated thoughts, etc. that I can't avoid by distracting myself with anything and everything.

I can go on and on and on with my fears and all, and perhaps I will later on, but for now... I'll just say this:

I go back and forth thinking about previous relationships, dating and other, and it makes my stomach feel weird. I get teary-eyed thinking about the different forms of abandonment and betrayal that I've felt over various people/situations, and I start to question who I am and what made those people leave or hurt me in whatever ways. I then get shaky and fearful that somehow what it is about me that caused them to betray or leave me will be triggered, and I'll wake up one day and Anthony won't be around anymore.

But this feeling doesn't last for long when I look back at words and actions of other people and how they never seemed to align. I can say without question that Anthony is someone whose word is nearly as good as his action. I don't even want to tell you about the many broken promises that I've lived through with other people... But Anthony has stuck by every thing he's said to me, and for that... I can breathe.

I think back about "what went wrong" with other relationships, and it's only now that I can really see that the "me" I was wasn't "me" at all.

So I got out of the shower, and I decided that if Anthony asked ME to be his wife, then I have nothing to worry about, right?

I know that I've got a lot to sort out; after all, marriage is no small decision. I believe in committing for keeps; I don't want to set ourselves up for failure.

I've been doing a lot of crying and evaluating lately, and it's tough to enjoy wedding plans right now. When I posted about the engagement, I mentioned that I wanted to write about the ups and downs of this wedding and all that it will entail.

If I have to hear another, "Well, I'll talk to you in ten years and see how starry-eyed you are... *wink*" I'm going to scream.

For instance, a door slammed the other day, and a lady I don't even know looked at me with a smirk and said, "You'd better get used to that! Men are all the same."

"Men are pigs; men are scum."

Really, people? Can you not just be happy for me? Being married won't be all kicks and giggles, that's for sure-- but I think I've found the person that I want to spend all the sadness and anger and downs with... along with all of said kicks and giggles.

I need people around me that are excited about this. 

Okay. This post was kind of a downer.

BUT, on the upside, Heather is going with me on Monday to try on dresses!!! Holy moly, I'm getting MARRIED!

Ha ;)

balloons

I've been thinking about balloons, lately. I even changed my blogger background to sort of illustrate what I sometimes can't explain. 

Sometimes I feel like as we grow older, there is so much change. People change, grow, become. It's what makes our humanness so incredible. It's also scary, because who you are isn't always ready at hand. I often feel as though I'm trying to gather all of these different layers and pieces together of myself, and every once in a while, I lose my grasp and can no longer see some parts of me that were once so central. 

These thoughts obviously made me think of balloons. When you're a kid, they tie the balloons to your wrist or stroller so that you don't lose/let go of your balloon. It's quite brilliant, really. 

We might hold on to these "figurative" balloons/pieces of ourselves to try and keep us grounded, until we realize that we're trying to hold so many that we start to be carried and moved by the balloons themselves.

Or maybe we fill them so full of air that they pop and cause us to jump back into reality.

Or maybe we try to arrange them in pretty patterns and complimentary colors and use them for decoration.

Or maybe we enjoy popping them.

Or maybe we like looking at them from afar.

Or maybe we want to let them all go and disappear into the sky.

Or perhaps I'm taking this metaphor too far?

I just think that balloons are great. You can use them for so many things... or you can twist them into a long, drawn-out metaphor that works for a blog that you've been wanting to post for a while but didn't know how. They can be happy, or sad... depending on how you want to think about them. 

We buy balloons, we let them go.

Bret Easton Ellis

There are times in life when people must know when not to let go. Balloons are designed to teach small children this. 

Terry Pratchett

My definition [of a philosopher] is of a man up in a balloon, with his family and friends holding the ropes which confine him to earth and trying to haul him down.

Louisa May Alcott

Nobody can be uncheered with a balloon.

Winnie the Pooh

A year ago, I was curled up in a ball next to my toilet, dry-heaving, in the hopes that throwing up whatever I'd (not) eaten that day would make me feel something. I racked my brain for what I did or did not do wrong, for reasons why I was on my bathroom floor at that very moment, when the year before I had been looking at rings. I pictured the "other girl's" face, and imagined slapping it and spitting on it and crushing it with my foot. I pictured his face twisted and crying, over me of course, wishing that he hadn't "done this to me," and I pictured myself as this brave, stoic woman who would scoff at his regret and laugh at "the other girl's" foolishness of wanting to be with my man.

But I wasn't very brave. I was scared. And embarrassed. And lonely. And hurt. And so I stayed on various floors, carpeted and other, until I was able to lift my pounding head from the surface. I'd drag myself to the couch, to the bed, to the refrigerator... and eventually I was able to do more than exist.
It was a horrible time. But I had good friends, a good family, and access to the internet. I started dating lots of people, hoping to find some kind of "validation," or whatever we call it when we're hurting and needing to know that we have a "future."

But I also started this blog. Yep, it's been about a year. It was one of my first intentional steps forward after that terrible season, and it's a step that has brought me to new, better steps than the first.

So these balloons are celebrating my blog, my continual healing, and everyone who helped me to do so. But they're also a symbol (for me) of letting some things go. I can't keep everything in my fist, even if they're teeny, tiny balloon strings. They added up, and eventually they took me places that I didn't want to go. But when I let a few strings go, and then a few more... I led them. More have been added, but more have been let go. And that's good for now.

certainly uncertain

Hello, hello. It's one of those days... one of those that marks the end/beginning of a day's worth of thoughts and thinks and thuds.


Sometimes I really start to question any and everything I've ever known. Most of the time this means God. Or religion. Or people. Or the color of puke. Or why top shelves exist. Or why anyone would wear white when dirt is brown. 


But today it was about death, as it often seems to be when I work in a place where our day's summary usually includes something horrifically normal. 


Have you ever heard of the fast robot? My friend Amy taught it to me. It's basically the robot, but super fast so you look even cooler than you did before you knew of it. Anyway, I taught it to this old man at work, and EVERY TIME he saw me, he'd do an awkward variation of said fast robot.


Well, he died today. And with him, so did our fast robot interpretations. Life goes on. But for a while, it feels like everything stops. Why do we live just to die? Was God so narcissistic that he had to create a world that would die? Insert all of that stuff about choice/free will and whatnot. I get that. But days like today, I really get sort of cynical and bitter about spiritual things, because sure it's cool that I'm alive and everything, but what was the point in creating a world that he knew was going to be so flawed and end in suffering? I mean, other than to choose to love and follow him. 


I don't get it today. Some days I do, but if I'm being honest... today I don't. 



Oh, and I know this of myself
I assume as much for other people
Oh, and I know this of myself
We've listened more to life's end gong
Than the sound of life's sweet bliss

Was it ever worth it?
Was there all that much to gain?
Well we knew we missed the boat
And we'd already missed the plane
We didn't read the invite
We just dance at our wake
All our favorites were playing
So we could shake, shake, shake, shake, shake

everybody knows that you break your neck to keep your chin up

So I just typed up this huge, long post about.. stuff. I felt like I was rambling, and I couldn't even form the right sentences to make my brain make sense.

And this is super nerdy, but I sort of wish that Harry Potter was a real life thing, because I want one of those pensive things. I can't scoop "life" into a box and unpack it whenever I want to. And the lame thing about me is that my memory is about as good as nothing.

Sometimes, there's a moment, and you want to keep it forever. It's one of those happy/sad things, because you're so happy to be in that moment, but you're quickly realizing that the moment will eventually cease to exist, and that's that. You can try and recreate those feelings, and you can even describe them fairly well to those around you, but you can't MAKE them feel what you felt for the same reasons that you ever felt them.

PHEW.

But sometimes there are gross, sticky feelings in your stomach that make you want to vomit all of your thoughts and thinks... along with any leftover food that might be in there... And sometimes you want other people to do that with you, so you don't feel so alone. (RIGHT? Please affirm me.)

You know, because sometimes life doesn't seem fair. It doesn't even necessarily have to be unfair toward you-- because sometimes, horrible things happen to OTHER people, and you don't know how to handle it.

Sometimes these situations make you want to give the world a good shaking. And sometimes you want to yell at God because you don't understand why bad things happen to good people... and normal people, for that matter.

And yeah, you can acknowledge all of the typical answers to your deep, philosophical thoughts, but that's simply not enough.

So maybe, if you're like me, you put together a playlist that maybe expresses those inexpressible thoughts in a way that makes you feel like you're perhaps feeling the right things at the right time about the horrible things that you can do nothing about.

(thanks, Suzy, for introducing me to Grooveshark)

Because I should be writing a paper...

I wanted to post this before I forget.  My professor shared this with us in class.  

After it was graded and the child brought it home, she returned to school the next day with the following note:

Dear Mrs. Smith,

I wish to clarify that I am not now, nor have I ever been, an exotic dancer. 
I work at Home Depot and I told my daughter how hectic it was last week before the blizzard hit. I told her we sold out every single shovel we had, and then I found one more in the back room, and that several people were fighting over who would get it. Her picture doesn't show me dancing around a pole. It's supposed to depict me selling the last snow shovel we had at Home Depot.
From now on I will remember to check her homework more thoroughly before she turns it in.

Sincerely,
Mrs. Jones

Ah, yes. It's funny how we look at things. Chew on that for a while, and I'll get back to this paper that's due tomorrow. :(

Cheers