It's rather unfortunate we're so much alike. We may have been friends.
My favorite part of writing is seeing the battery slowly lose power as I'm typing. It's like a race against time. Time is infinite. And my thoughts are infintite. Yet I'm still impossibly scared that I'll run out of time and thoughts. I wish I could carry a recorder around with me at all time to capture every single one of my thoughts. So abstract. So real. So raw. Certain thoughts make my skin crawl and others give me goosebumps. I look for the ones that make my skin crawl in a good way.
I miss you a lot. But which one of you? I have no idea which one of you I miss. On the one hand, you were good for fun. On the other hand, you were bad for my health. All of you. I'm constantly amazed how just the meer image of that time in my life can bring me all the way back. It's like I've time traveled. There you are, stumbling over your words, forgiving me for not finding mine.
I can't seem to shake you. Time and time again, I come back to your face, hair, lips. I can't remember much about you, but what I do...oh what I do. I think of tear stains. And hair dye. And unwanted, unwilling piercings. And curls.
Stuck. Stuck in something I can't...I can't... what is it about being stuck in a moment that's so hard. CHIODOS! Make that feeling go away. Please. Make those awful shakes go away. Please. I'm not cut out for this.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
WeightWatchers 1/5/10
Breakfast:
Cereal: 2 points
Cereal: 2 points
Milk: 1 point
Lunch:
Smart Ones Enchilada: 6 points
Applesauce: 1
Supper:
Wendy's Double Stack: 7
Meatball: 5
Point Total: 25
Goal: 24
I'll do better today!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Diet Log
I'm not very good at keeping pen-and-paper food logs, so I'm going to use this blog to record what I eat. Really, you don't need to read this. I really just need to get down (quite a few pounds) before I go to Cancun next summer!!
Friday, September 11, 2009
...of unconditional love.
She kept screaming at him.
"You're hurting me! I don't want to go any further! You're hurting my back."
"No, honey, it's okay. This man over here is going to help you down the stairs. It's okay, you're not going to fall."
"YOU'RE HURTING ME! I don't want to break my leg again. My back hurts. I think it's falling off. NOOOOO, YOU'RE HURTING ME."
Love is patient and love is kind. But what happens when love throws a curveball? What happens when dementia and chronic injuries take over one-half of a relationship?
Tonight I saw the most beautiful relationship. Despite the yelling and the scene, it was clear that the elderly man loved his wife. For the second year in a row, I've watched the dynamics of this elderly couple. The couple probably should have retired their season volleyball tickets long ago. But yet they come to every single game.
What's that say about love? I know it speaks volumes about the old man's patience and faithfulness to his wife. I can't even imagine what he goes through on the eve of every volleyball match. Getting her dressed...putting her in the car... driving miles to the Coliseum...parking the car and walking her to the front door... helping her up the ramp to her seat. And what happens if she need to use the bathroom in the middle of the match? He has to convince her all over again that she will indeed not break her leg again.
I can only imagine having a love as strong as that couple's. From where I sit, he hasn't so much as batted an eye at the amount of work it takes to go to Nebraska's volleyball games year after year. And could you imagine her humiliation as three people help her down two steps? But love shows no humility.
I'm sure they hold tight to their health and their happiness at the end of each night, grateful for each day spent together.
"You're hurting me! I don't want to go any further! You're hurting my back."
"No, honey, it's okay. This man over here is going to help you down the stairs. It's okay, you're not going to fall."
"YOU'RE HURTING ME! I don't want to break my leg again. My back hurts. I think it's falling off. NOOOOO, YOU'RE HURTING ME."
Love is patient and love is kind. But what happens when love throws a curveball? What happens when dementia and chronic injuries take over one-half of a relationship?
Tonight I saw the most beautiful relationship. Despite the yelling and the scene, it was clear that the elderly man loved his wife. For the second year in a row, I've watched the dynamics of this elderly couple. The couple probably should have retired their season volleyball tickets long ago. But yet they come to every single game.
What's that say about love? I know it speaks volumes about the old man's patience and faithfulness to his wife. I can't even imagine what he goes through on the eve of every volleyball match. Getting her dressed...putting her in the car... driving miles to the Coliseum...parking the car and walking her to the front door... helping her up the ramp to her seat. And what happens if she need to use the bathroom in the middle of the match? He has to convince her all over again that she will indeed not break her leg again.
I can only imagine having a love as strong as that couple's. From where I sit, he hasn't so much as batted an eye at the amount of work it takes to go to Nebraska's volleyball games year after year. And could you imagine her humiliation as three people help her down two steps? But love shows no humility.
I'm sure they hold tight to their health and their happiness at the end of each night, grateful for each day spent together.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
...of someone with no talent.
I wish I had a talent.
I became really inspired by Julie and Julia on Monday and have decided that I need to find some sort of talent. I loved that Julie figured out how to cook and then proceeded to cook her way through Julia Stile's cookbook. Seriously, it had to have been the most creative and most talented way to blog ever. I should really read the book.
My sister, Jacy, is a good cook. I find that to be talent. She's also quite the artist and imaginator. My older sister, Gina, is also an imaginator...and a baker. I seriously can't name one thing both Jacy and Gina aren't good at. My dad can invent things and draw things out and make them happen. My mom's the most optimistic person I've ever met and has a way with people. I don't know one person who doesn't like being around her.
Then there's me. No talent. No absolutely positive trait that distinguishes me from the rest of the world. I may go on a great qwest for a talent. Maybe that's what I should do in this blog - find something I absolutely love and finish it for once. I love poetry, yet I can't seem to finish anything I've started - ala Julie in Julie and Julia. She would start things and never finish them. I need something... crochet? knitting? baking?
Believe me I'm not searching for any compliments here. I legitamately have zero talent.
Suggestions would be great.
I became really inspired by Julie and Julia on Monday and have decided that I need to find some sort of talent. I loved that Julie figured out how to cook and then proceeded to cook her way through Julia Stile's cookbook. Seriously, it had to have been the most creative and most talented way to blog ever. I should really read the book.
My sister, Jacy, is a good cook. I find that to be talent. She's also quite the artist and imaginator. My older sister, Gina, is also an imaginator...and a baker. I seriously can't name one thing both Jacy and Gina aren't good at. My dad can invent things and draw things out and make them happen. My mom's the most optimistic person I've ever met and has a way with people. I don't know one person who doesn't like being around her.
Then there's me. No talent. No absolutely positive trait that distinguishes me from the rest of the world. I may go on a great qwest for a talent. Maybe that's what I should do in this blog - find something I absolutely love and finish it for once. I love poetry, yet I can't seem to finish anything I've started - ala Julie in Julie and Julia. She would start things and never finish them. I need something... crochet? knitting? baking?
Believe me I'm not searching for any compliments here. I legitamately have zero talent.
Suggestions would be great.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
...of a girl who misses her first love.
Let me get this straight first of all - I don't miss my first love, but yet the fun that came with having a first love. Or maybe I do miss my first love. Who knows. All I know is that while I was sitting in my "relaxed pose" at my first yoga class tonight, I could only think of weird first love memories. The instructor told her class to think back to a happy time in our lives and my first thought was the drive-in theater when I was a sophomore in high school with my first love in the backseat....
I'm not a typically lonely or needy person. I don't always have to be in a relationship. In fact, rarely am I in a relationship. Nor do I go on dates. Maybe if I were skinnier I'd be more apt to go on dates...who knows. But in all reality, I do kind of miss the excitement of my first love. My other loves weren't near as exciting. They were the same old kissing leads to touching leads to... well you get the picture. But with the first love, everything was shiny and new. Neither of us had experienced any kind of mental or physical relationship like us before.
My first love is getting married next June and I've been having a lot of reflective thoughts about him. "Could that have been me?" "Should that have been me?" "Holy shit, what if that was me?"
I know that things happen for a reason. And we're not together for a very specific reason. God may never give me something as amazing as a "first love," but hopefully he'll give me true love. Someday. In the long-distance future.
For now - dating? hermm....we'll see about that...
I'm not a typically lonely or needy person. I don't always have to be in a relationship. In fact, rarely am I in a relationship. Nor do I go on dates. Maybe if I were skinnier I'd be more apt to go on dates...who knows. But in all reality, I do kind of miss the excitement of my first love. My other loves weren't near as exciting. They were the same old kissing leads to touching leads to... well you get the picture. But with the first love, everything was shiny and new. Neither of us had experienced any kind of mental or physical relationship like us before.
My first love is getting married next June and I've been having a lot of reflective thoughts about him. "Could that have been me?" "Should that have been me?" "Holy shit, what if that was me?"
I know that things happen for a reason. And we're not together for a very specific reason. God may never give me something as amazing as a "first love," but hopefully he'll give me true love. Someday. In the long-distance future.
For now - dating? hermm....we'll see about that...
Monday, July 20, 2009
...of the reflective.
Is this the end of the moment or just a beautiful unfolding?
Who knows.
I try to write my posts with a sense of humor. My sense of humor is rather odd, but that's who I am. Tonight, I'm not feeling too funny. Just more or less reflective. My mood may be in direct proportion to the rainy weather, but I could also be realizing that I'm coming to the end of a moment.
My resume:
Five year degree in English (May 2010)...ladeefrickingda
Weaknesses: directionless, emotionally unavailable, chronic fatigue, fatness
Strengths: organized, plays well with others?
And the million dollar question: What the hell am I going to do with my life?
I always had great dreams of making it big somewhere. I wanted to be a doctor, but come to find out I'm really shitty at science. Like really shitty. Then I wanted to be a fashion designer/business owner. I guess I blow at math and accounting, too. Okay, I'll admit, it wasn't so much that I wasn't good at the subjects. But did I try in those classes? Nope. I maybe, MAYBE, went to a total of 5 accounting classes all semester. I was "too busy" or "already knew the information." The D- on my transcript looks like a gaping black hole in an otherwise pretty okay shard of paper. I only entered English because I thought that being an author someday sounded like a good time. I can paint the most vivid pictures in my head only meant for paper and for sharing, but is there really money in writing books or poems? Only if you're a sell-out like Danielle Steele.
So far I've narrowed it down to joining Teach For America or taking the LSAT. Neither of which really trip my complete trigger. Well, Teach For America does, but I'm really nervous that I wouldn't get in. Why would they take me? ME? I may not even apply because I'm so scared of rejection.
So, not only do I have no direction in my immediate career future, but my so-called love life has gone down the shitter too. It's my fault. I turned into that married broad who never, ever wanted to do anything sexually physical with a guy. Seriously, the thought of a cock makes me want to puke. ughhahahhhahaa. I think that may fall under the "emotionally unavailable" category on my resume. I really don't want to be with anyone right now. But what happens in 5, 10, 15 years when I do want to be with someone that all the good ones are taken? What if I passed up the man of my dreams because his frickin' penis made me shiver and crawl into a dark, guarded hole. Will I be regretful that I didn't act now? I suppose everything happens for a reason. I just hope that unwritten law applies to the cynics as well.
Who knows.
I try to write my posts with a sense of humor. My sense of humor is rather odd, but that's who I am. Tonight, I'm not feeling too funny. Just more or less reflective. My mood may be in direct proportion to the rainy weather, but I could also be realizing that I'm coming to the end of a moment.
My resume:
Five year degree in English (May 2010)...ladeefrickingda
Weaknesses: directionless, emotionally unavailable, chronic fatigue, fatness
Strengths: organized, plays well with others?
And the million dollar question: What the hell am I going to do with my life?
I always had great dreams of making it big somewhere. I wanted to be a doctor, but come to find out I'm really shitty at science. Like really shitty. Then I wanted to be a fashion designer/business owner. I guess I blow at math and accounting, too. Okay, I'll admit, it wasn't so much that I wasn't good at the subjects. But did I try in those classes? Nope. I maybe, MAYBE, went to a total of 5 accounting classes all semester. I was "too busy" or "already knew the information." The D- on my transcript looks like a gaping black hole in an otherwise pretty okay shard of paper. I only entered English because I thought that being an author someday sounded like a good time. I can paint the most vivid pictures in my head only meant for paper and for sharing, but is there really money in writing books or poems? Only if you're a sell-out like Danielle Steele.
So far I've narrowed it down to joining Teach For America or taking the LSAT. Neither of which really trip my complete trigger. Well, Teach For America does, but I'm really nervous that I wouldn't get in. Why would they take me? ME? I may not even apply because I'm so scared of rejection.
So, not only do I have no direction in my immediate career future, but my so-called love life has gone down the shitter too. It's my fault. I turned into that married broad who never, ever wanted to do anything sexually physical with a guy. Seriously, the thought of a cock makes me want to puke. ughhahahhhahaa. I think that may fall under the "emotionally unavailable" category on my resume. I really don't want to be with anyone right now. But what happens in 5, 10, 15 years when I do want to be with someone that all the good ones are taken? What if I passed up the man of my dreams because his frickin' penis made me shiver and crawl into a dark, guarded hole. Will I be regretful that I didn't act now? I suppose everything happens for a reason. I just hope that unwritten law applies to the cynics as well.
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