Left my phone in my professor's office Friday.
Sunday I get a frantic email from my mother and my sister comes to see if I've finally drowned in the pre-weekend mess my room tends to get into.
...Or harmed myself, because apparently I sounded sad on the last entry.
Yeah...kinda glad I never published that entry after that about being forced to see the office psychologist last check-up. ...I don't want to even talk about that fiasco. Ahem...let's just say I had to explain to the lady that depression and PMS are two very different things. I stopped taking her seriously when at one point in our conversation, she looked taken aback, peered at me, and said in a stage whisper of almost comical awe, "You like white folks' music?"
I swear...even now I have no words.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Letters from a Past Self, Pt. 1
Over the past few days, I've dusted off two things documenting my high school days- my senior memory book and my old prayer book.
I've been back to my old high school a few times, but I haven't looked at my senior book since I've gotten to college. I feel no ties to that place. My book was meticulously put together, filled with pictures of me and my time there, meant to be passed around so people could autograph it, since we never did get yearbooks. (I'm not even getting into that whole fiasco...) There's a picture of me as Miss LCHS (it wasn't that big a deal, frankly. It was me and one other girl running), standing awkwardly and holding a bouquet of yellow roses, half-smiling. I mean, heck, I supposedly still half liked taking pictures back then, but you sure couldn't tell from that picture... There are pictures of me as a chatty baby and a lively kid. My eyes are still bright and full of hope. In later pictures, you can tell I'm afraid to smile. In some, I pose dramatically, and you can tell I have something to prove. Pages I've written in reveal a girl who makes me cringe at how awkward and often corny she is (yes, I'm aware I'm still awkward and corny, but this is a higher plane of awkward and corny), but she's fighting- she's let everyone else decide what she likes for a couple of years, and for the past four years, she's been on a mission- now she's just going to be herself. And in all that effort, every once in a while, there's a glimmer of creativity or maturity...and I smile. There's a whole diatribe on how much I hate it when people mispronounce my name or attempt to give me nicknames (I don't really care much about that now...except when people do it to expressly screw with me). There's pictures from my brief stint in Drama Club (I was Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz- pigtails and all).
And then there are the autographs. There's not that many- I was too scared to ask too many people to sign them. Ironically, I only keep up with one of these people anymore, even though some of them go to USC too. I can't even associate some names with faces, and my willful forgetting scares me a little. I used to joke how everyone said the same thing- "nice and smart". I think if I were to ask people to autograph a book for me today, it'd be pretty much the same thing. Well...there are worse things you could be called. Some things are really kind- what comes up a lot is that I didn't change to fit in, which makes me happy. I don't like to think about high school. I didn't really trust people after the crappy time I'd had in junior high, and I felt like I was always defending the things I liked, the way I was...even though it wasn't always like that. Looking back on it, I realize that my time there had an impact, even if it was just a small one, on at least one person, and I feel like I shouldn't just forget it all.
I've changed a lot these past few years at USC. But...looking at this made me realize in the end, I'm more similar to my seventeen-year-old self than I'd like to admit. If I were to be completely honest with myself, I still don't trust people the way I should. It's not like I've suddenly become secure in the stranger things I like- I've just given up trying to explain them or share them with people. I'll just brush them off with a brisk, "It's just me being Liza. You wouldn't understand," because I'm sick of people laughing and making weird faces. The only other option is to give it up, and if college has done nothing else, it has only cemented the fact that hell will freeze over before I change something about myself just because someone else has decided it's not cool or normal. I have never been ordinary, and when I try, it's a mess. I don't need any help being more awkward than I already am.
I hope that I can always live freely- as Liza, no more, no less. I'm still relearning exactly what that entails. I feel like I'm always opening my eyes a little wider, rediscovering another little part of me that I lost. I just...
I just want to be happy.
I've been back to my old high school a few times, but I haven't looked at my senior book since I've gotten to college. I feel no ties to that place. My book was meticulously put together, filled with pictures of me and my time there, meant to be passed around so people could autograph it, since we never did get yearbooks. (I'm not even getting into that whole fiasco...) There's a picture of me as Miss LCHS (it wasn't that big a deal, frankly. It was me and one other girl running), standing awkwardly and holding a bouquet of yellow roses, half-smiling. I mean, heck, I supposedly still half liked taking pictures back then, but you sure couldn't tell from that picture... There are pictures of me as a chatty baby and a lively kid. My eyes are still bright and full of hope. In later pictures, you can tell I'm afraid to smile. In some, I pose dramatically, and you can tell I have something to prove. Pages I've written in reveal a girl who makes me cringe at how awkward and often corny she is (yes, I'm aware I'm still awkward and corny, but this is a higher plane of awkward and corny), but she's fighting- she's let everyone else decide what she likes for a couple of years, and for the past four years, she's been on a mission- now she's just going to be herself. And in all that effort, every once in a while, there's a glimmer of creativity or maturity...and I smile. There's a whole diatribe on how much I hate it when people mispronounce my name or attempt to give me nicknames (I don't really care much about that now...except when people do it to expressly screw with me). There's pictures from my brief stint in Drama Club (I was Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz- pigtails and all).
And then there are the autographs. There's not that many- I was too scared to ask too many people to sign them. Ironically, I only keep up with one of these people anymore, even though some of them go to USC too. I can't even associate some names with faces, and my willful forgetting scares me a little. I used to joke how everyone said the same thing- "nice and smart". I think if I were to ask people to autograph a book for me today, it'd be pretty much the same thing. Well...there are worse things you could be called. Some things are really kind- what comes up a lot is that I didn't change to fit in, which makes me happy. I don't like to think about high school. I didn't really trust people after the crappy time I'd had in junior high, and I felt like I was always defending the things I liked, the way I was...even though it wasn't always like that. Looking back on it, I realize that my time there had an impact, even if it was just a small one, on at least one person, and I feel like I shouldn't just forget it all.
I've changed a lot these past few years at USC. But...looking at this made me realize in the end, I'm more similar to my seventeen-year-old self than I'd like to admit. If I were to be completely honest with myself, I still don't trust people the way I should. It's not like I've suddenly become secure in the stranger things I like- I've just given up trying to explain them or share them with people. I'll just brush them off with a brisk, "It's just me being Liza. You wouldn't understand," because I'm sick of people laughing and making weird faces. The only other option is to give it up, and if college has done nothing else, it has only cemented the fact that hell will freeze over before I change something about myself just because someone else has decided it's not cool or normal. I have never been ordinary, and when I try, it's a mess. I don't need any help being more awkward than I already am.
I hope that I can always live freely- as Liza, no more, no less. I'm still relearning exactly what that entails. I feel like I'm always opening my eyes a little wider, rediscovering another little part of me that I lost. I just...
I just want to be happy.
Friday, December 14, 2007
I'm gonna have a good Christmas if it kills me.
I came home (to my parents' house, I mean) to find it already decorated for the holidays. Usually my mom waits until we get out of school so we can help put up decorations, but this year she didn't. I guess cause every year before, I found a way to get out of it.
I'm an idiot. I didn't know what I had. I didn't know what taking out those decorations while the room's filled with Christmas means. I didn't know what putting up the tree meant, where all the ornaments that aren't balls each have a story and a meaning.
My cousin (she's nine, lives down the road, is tutored by my mother, and is trying to usurp my youngest-child status. But she will not prevail because I am far more charming...ahem. Digressing...) helped my mom put up the tree. And had the nerve to pick at my homemade Santa ornament. Just cause it doesn't have a beard...and crooked, misshapen eyes...actually, besides the hat, you can't really tell it's Santa...
...I was in first grade. Leave me alone.
There's a nativity in the living room. Well, actually, there's... *goes to count* *comes back* ...seven nativities. Apparently, when you don't know what to get the pastor for Christmas, you go with a nativity. They're really nice ones, though- glass ones, ceramic ones, some that are stuck together, some that are a lot of little pieces. There's only one that my parents actually bought, and it's my favorite one. That is the subject of this paragraph (finally). My dad bought it for my mom for Christmas one year before Jennifer and I were born. It's a wooden stable with ceramic figurines, and all the people are children and all the animals are babies. The design is kind of Precious Moments-esque. But the thing I love most about it is that the stable's actually a music box. It plays "Silent Night" in dinky, music-box notes. I wasn't allowed to touch the nativity until we were old enough to not break stuff, but I would beg Mom to wind up the music box, and I would sit there and stare at the gentle faces and the baby lying in the manger, entranced.
I came home today and sat on the floor, and I stared at that nativity. I wound up the box, and the gentle strains of "Silent Night" reached my ears.
...And I began to weep.
All I could think was, "Man...how could this have happened?" Usually I'm in a wonderful mood when Christmas comes around. From about my birthday until the actual day, I'm stupid-giddy and happy. Peace reaches me. It seems as though even this crazy world pauses for just a moment to acknowledge the best thing that ever happened to it. I have to admit, spending the beginning of last year's Christmas season in Japan really made me think. I'm not sure what it was, but it was a totally different feeling celebrating Christmas there than here in America. It's weird, but when I got back to the Detroit airport and that waitress in Chili's told me Merry Christmas, it was like it finally had meaning. Yeah, Christmas definitely isn't what it should be here, but honestly, we don't know how good we have it. I was really excited about Christmas this year because I thought I'd be able to appreciate it more. But, hard as I've tried, it just hasn't been that way for me this year. There are people close to me who just flat-out can't get into the Christmas spirit. It's affected me. I've come out of the semester of hell. I am terrified of what my future holds in general. People are moving on from my life, which is always hard, but often necessary. Other relationships have taken all the patience and humility I have to keep working on them and not just throw it all away. I am so tired. I went through exams like a zombie. I didn't even have the energy to worry as much as I normally do, although I probably should have.
I mean, yeah, Christmas is overcommercialized. It seems like Christmas decorations are coming out earlier and earlier, when Halloween isn't even over yet. It's ridiculous. In a season of giving, selfish people can utterly ruin Christmas for other people. But it SHOULDN'T MATTER. JESUS WAS BORN ON CHRISTMAS.
No, seriously. You just read that and said to yourself, "Oh, okay." Read it again. Think about exactly what that simple statement entails. My savior, the one who'll be there for me when everyone else lets me down, came to the world to put into motion a lavish gift I most certainly don't deserve. Can't I just let go of all the crap in my life for just a little while and celebrate that, even if I'm alone in doing it? I'm not going to sit here and be self-righteous- I hate that people cheapen it or just give up on it, but I'm also disappointed in myself because I'm giving up, when I, as a Christian, certainly have reason to be glad, no matter what's going on in my life right now. Why do I let things that don't even matter get in the way of my joy...? I know God is out there. I know peace is out there- not just at Christmas, but always. But this is a special time. What better time than now to quiet myself for once and wait for Him...to just sit and be grateful?
Please...if you see someone singing some really corny Christmas song, or happily going about their Christmas shopping or making Christmas-related food with a goofy smile on their face...let them be glad. If they say, "Man, I really love Christmas", don't take that from them. Honestly, in the end, Christmas is what you make of it. You want an authentic, heartfelt Christmas? Then you make it that way. If you have to, forget everyone else around you. Then, I promise...even if circumstances suck, it'll still be a wonderful one.
That's what I'm going to do. This Christmas, it's gonna be me celebrating his birth in my own way- behind all the dusted-off Christmas music, tinsel, and glitter, that's all it is. For me, it's remembering what I have- the Christmases that were good, the memories I've made with friends and family. It's doing corny stuff with my family, not cause it's fun (heck, no), but because I need to be with them while I can, cause I have no idea where I'll be next year or if I'll even be able to come home. Because, even though they get on my nerves...I love them. It's getting back to my roots as a person, reaching out to the One who loves me and understands me more than any person ever will and listening for a change.
People can't take the power out of Christmas. It's still there. Whether you open your eyes and receive it is up to you.
(...Wow, that's a lot. Honestly, I don't expect anybody to read all of that...I really need to blog more often so this doesn't happen again.)
I'm an idiot. I didn't know what I had. I didn't know what taking out those decorations while the room's filled with Christmas means. I didn't know what putting up the tree meant, where all the ornaments that aren't balls each have a story and a meaning.
My cousin (she's nine, lives down the road, is tutored by my mother, and is trying to usurp my youngest-child status. But she will not prevail because I am far more charming...ahem. Digressing...) helped my mom put up the tree. And had the nerve to pick at my homemade Santa ornament. Just cause it doesn't have a beard...and crooked, misshapen eyes...actually, besides the hat, you can't really tell it's Santa...
...I was in first grade. Leave me alone.
There's a nativity in the living room. Well, actually, there's... *goes to count* *comes back* ...seven nativities. Apparently, when you don't know what to get the pastor for Christmas, you go with a nativity. They're really nice ones, though- glass ones, ceramic ones, some that are stuck together, some that are a lot of little pieces. There's only one that my parents actually bought, and it's my favorite one. That is the subject of this paragraph (finally). My dad bought it for my mom for Christmas one year before Jennifer and I were born. It's a wooden stable with ceramic figurines, and all the people are children and all the animals are babies. The design is kind of Precious Moments-esque. But the thing I love most about it is that the stable's actually a music box. It plays "Silent Night" in dinky, music-box notes. I wasn't allowed to touch the nativity until we were old enough to not break stuff, but I would beg Mom to wind up the music box, and I would sit there and stare at the gentle faces and the baby lying in the manger, entranced.
I came home today and sat on the floor, and I stared at that nativity. I wound up the box, and the gentle strains of "Silent Night" reached my ears.
...And I began to weep.
All I could think was, "Man...how could this have happened?" Usually I'm in a wonderful mood when Christmas comes around. From about my birthday until the actual day, I'm stupid-giddy and happy. Peace reaches me. It seems as though even this crazy world pauses for just a moment to acknowledge the best thing that ever happened to it. I have to admit, spending the beginning of last year's Christmas season in Japan really made me think. I'm not sure what it was, but it was a totally different feeling celebrating Christmas there than here in America. It's weird, but when I got back to the Detroit airport and that waitress in Chili's told me Merry Christmas, it was like it finally had meaning. Yeah, Christmas definitely isn't what it should be here, but honestly, we don't know how good we have it. I was really excited about Christmas this year because I thought I'd be able to appreciate it more. But, hard as I've tried, it just hasn't been that way for me this year. There are people close to me who just flat-out can't get into the Christmas spirit. It's affected me. I've come out of the semester of hell. I am terrified of what my future holds in general. People are moving on from my life, which is always hard, but often necessary. Other relationships have taken all the patience and humility I have to keep working on them and not just throw it all away. I am so tired. I went through exams like a zombie. I didn't even have the energy to worry as much as I normally do, although I probably should have.
I mean, yeah, Christmas is overcommercialized. It seems like Christmas decorations are coming out earlier and earlier, when Halloween isn't even over yet. It's ridiculous. In a season of giving, selfish people can utterly ruin Christmas for other people. But it SHOULDN'T MATTER. JESUS WAS BORN ON CHRISTMAS.
No, seriously. You just read that and said to yourself, "Oh, okay." Read it again. Think about exactly what that simple statement entails. My savior, the one who'll be there for me when everyone else lets me down, came to the world to put into motion a lavish gift I most certainly don't deserve. Can't I just let go of all the crap in my life for just a little while and celebrate that, even if I'm alone in doing it? I'm not going to sit here and be self-righteous- I hate that people cheapen it or just give up on it, but I'm also disappointed in myself because I'm giving up, when I, as a Christian, certainly have reason to be glad, no matter what's going on in my life right now. Why do I let things that don't even matter get in the way of my joy...? I know God is out there. I know peace is out there- not just at Christmas, but always. But this is a special time. What better time than now to quiet myself for once and wait for Him...to just sit and be grateful?
Please...if you see someone singing some really corny Christmas song, or happily going about their Christmas shopping or making Christmas-related food with a goofy smile on their face...let them be glad. If they say, "Man, I really love Christmas", don't take that from them. Honestly, in the end, Christmas is what you make of it. You want an authentic, heartfelt Christmas? Then you make it that way. If you have to, forget everyone else around you. Then, I promise...even if circumstances suck, it'll still be a wonderful one.
That's what I'm going to do. This Christmas, it's gonna be me celebrating his birth in my own way- behind all the dusted-off Christmas music, tinsel, and glitter, that's all it is. For me, it's remembering what I have- the Christmases that were good, the memories I've made with friends and family. It's doing corny stuff with my family, not cause it's fun (heck, no), but because I need to be with them while I can, cause I have no idea where I'll be next year or if I'll even be able to come home. Because, even though they get on my nerves...I love them. It's getting back to my roots as a person, reaching out to the One who loves me and understands me more than any person ever will and listening for a change.
People can't take the power out of Christmas. It's still there. Whether you open your eyes and receive it is up to you.
(...Wow, that's a lot. Honestly, I don't expect anybody to read all of that...I really need to blog more often so this doesn't happen again.)
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Sunday, October 21, 2007
I want to know where I stand.
I want to be okay with that.
I want love to spill out of me for the sake of and despite of the people I meet.
I want to move on from my past but not forget it. May I be punished sorely if I ever have the arrogance to inflict the same wounds on people that were inflicted on me.
Not always, but sometimes, when I look at you...I see myself.
That's why I'm still here.
I want to be okay with that.
I want love to spill out of me for the sake of and despite of the people I meet.
I want to move on from my past but not forget it. May I be punished sorely if I ever have the arrogance to inflict the same wounds on people that were inflicted on me.
Not always, but sometimes, when I look at you...I see myself.
That's why I'm still here.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Dear Father,
Yesterday was the first day I'd been really happy since my anxiety attack last month. It was awesome, mostly cause I could feel You really close to me. I was so giddy, I felt like I wanted to tell the world. Do You remember? I was determined to not worry about things so much and just hand things over to you. So, I was in a good mood, even as I stayed up to finish that paper. I pumped myself full of caffeine and resolved to stay happy, even as I had to finally skip class to finish everything. But by the time test time rolled around today, I have to admit I was a little irritable. And then it was like I had studied all the wrong things, so all that studying was ultimately little help. I tried not to cry, but there was no one to talk to and the person who served me my food was rude to me and I just couldn't deal with it all at once. So that was how I ended up trudging up the stairs to my room, chanting, "I'm not going to cry. It's just a test," even as I'm blubbering and snotting everywhere. And then I felt worse cause I had just finished telling you I wasn't going to worry. It wasn't really the test...I just hate that feeling when I know I've done my best and...it just wasn't good enough. But You know that. I felt like my happiness had been snatched away from me just when I'd gotten it back, and that just discouraged me more.
But you work in mysterious ways, God. I could've just gone home and caught up on sleep, but I went to house church and laughed and had cake and interesting discussion, then I had pizza with friends. But the best part of the night was what I thought would be the hardest. Thank you for pushing all that other stuff out of the way long enough to allow me to help some of my sisters intercede for my brothers tonight. 15 minutes became an hour, and I didn't even notice. You were definitely there with us, and may it always be so. Thank you, dear Father. You brought my happiness back with the joy that comes from working for you. You are good. And now I'm gonna sleep real good. May the fervent prayers that were sent up tonight be heard and answered. In your name. Love you a whole lot.
Amen.
Yesterday was the first day I'd been really happy since my anxiety attack last month. It was awesome, mostly cause I could feel You really close to me. I was so giddy, I felt like I wanted to tell the world. Do You remember? I was determined to not worry about things so much and just hand things over to you. So, I was in a good mood, even as I stayed up to finish that paper. I pumped myself full of caffeine and resolved to stay happy, even as I had to finally skip class to finish everything. But by the time test time rolled around today, I have to admit I was a little irritable. And then it was like I had studied all the wrong things, so all that studying was ultimately little help. I tried not to cry, but there was no one to talk to and the person who served me my food was rude to me and I just couldn't deal with it all at once. So that was how I ended up trudging up the stairs to my room, chanting, "I'm not going to cry. It's just a test," even as I'm blubbering and snotting everywhere. And then I felt worse cause I had just finished telling you I wasn't going to worry. It wasn't really the test...I just hate that feeling when I know I've done my best and...it just wasn't good enough. But You know that. I felt like my happiness had been snatched away from me just when I'd gotten it back, and that just discouraged me more.
But you work in mysterious ways, God. I could've just gone home and caught up on sleep, but I went to house church and laughed and had cake and interesting discussion, then I had pizza with friends. But the best part of the night was what I thought would be the hardest. Thank you for pushing all that other stuff out of the way long enough to allow me to help some of my sisters intercede for my brothers tonight. 15 minutes became an hour, and I didn't even notice. You were definitely there with us, and may it always be so. Thank you, dear Father. You brought my happiness back with the joy that comes from working for you. You are good. And now I'm gonna sleep real good. May the fervent prayers that were sent up tonight be heard and answered. In your name. Love you a whole lot.
Amen.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Today was very humbling. Painfully humbling. Several things happened to me today that made me look at my true self, all of me, squarely...and it makes me sick. Sitting here, the only conclusion I can come to is that I'm selfish, spoiled, nowhere near as talented, smart, or clever as I pretend to be, in all honesty, I have a really nasty dark side, yet I'm way too proud to admit that I'm falling apart, even as I desperately try to claw my way back to a standing position before anyone sees I'm on the ground. God is honestly the only thing holding me together right now.
Well, perhaps the last thing is how it should be.
Well, perhaps the last thing is how it should be.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
I'm worn out. And anxious. Anxious about being too anxious again.
I never want a severe panic attack, cause this mild one scared the crap out of me. I thought I felt powerless before, but wanting to stop crying, wanting your chest to stop feeling like it's ripping in half, but not being able to is far worse.
Each little part of this is something I could face by itself. Together they proved too much to bear, a huge nasty thing that nearly immobilized me today. Anyway, I'm exhausted.
But people love me. And Jesus will see to it that I'm not alone tonight.
So I'll take a deep breath and wait for tomorrow.
All I need is hope...and a little bit of courage to pick up the pieces and keep going.
I never want a severe panic attack, cause this mild one scared the crap out of me. I thought I felt powerless before, but wanting to stop crying, wanting your chest to stop feeling like it's ripping in half, but not being able to is far worse.
Each little part of this is something I could face by itself. Together they proved too much to bear, a huge nasty thing that nearly immobilized me today. Anyway, I'm exhausted.
But people love me. And Jesus will see to it that I'm not alone tonight.
So I'll take a deep breath and wait for tomorrow.
All I need is hope...and a little bit of courage to pick up the pieces and keep going.
Friday, September 07, 2007
It seems as though school never really ends, does it...?
I think the thing I like the most about meeting new people is learning from them. I'm not just talking about the really smart people who seem to be overflowing with information and open up whole new worlds for you. I think each of my friends especially have taught me something- how to be stronger, how to give selflessly, how to be concerned with other things than myself, how to be able to laugh at myself, how to find joy in the simple beauty of God's creation...the list goes on and on. And it's not like these people (except in a few cases) actually sat me down and schooled me. It's through actions, through the relating of their experiences. No, I'm not daydreaming when you're talking to me, even though I'm not saying much. Even the little things are things that I take into myself, good or bad. I'm weighing them, learning about my friends, the world around us, and about myself. And you will probably either find that interesting or be scared out of your mind, cause you've been saying all kinds of stuff in my presence...then again, those closest to me probably know this and don't care *coughLOUcough*. It's not like if you complain about your crazy professor or say something I don't quite agree with, I automatically think less of you for it, though. Everyone has bad days, and if the whole world was in agreement, it'd be a heck of a lot less complicated than it is now. In fact, I seem to gravitate to the people who have the courage to say things that aren't always safe. But yeah, what you're saying, even if in jest, is how a lot of people are making their conclusions about you, some more than others. I don't know about you, but that scares the crap out of me. Probably why I don't talk a lot...but even silence causes people to make conclusions about you.
...Well, that sucks. You just can't win, can you? But I digress.
One of those (often corny) ice-breaker questions goes: "What makes more of a difference to you- what is said or how it's said?" I gotta admit, how it's said is pretty important to me (a smile covers a multitude of sins, so sayeth Dale Carnegie, and it's so true to me), but what is said is probably a little bit more important. I'm interested in perspectives. I want to see glimpses of the world from different lenses than I'm used to. Conversation is a big part of that.
...And don't judge me for being a Dale Carnegie fan. I don't care what anyone says- How to Make Friends and Influence People changed my LIFE. Read it. It will open your EYES.
Of course I sound insane. If you've known me long enough, you know I only pretend to have sense. :D
...Well, that sucks. You just can't win, can you? But I digress.
One of those (often corny) ice-breaker questions goes: "What makes more of a difference to you- what is said or how it's said?" I gotta admit, how it's said is pretty important to me (a smile covers a multitude of sins, so sayeth Dale Carnegie, and it's so true to me), but what is said is probably a little bit more important. I'm interested in perspectives. I want to see glimpses of the world from different lenses than I'm used to. Conversation is a big part of that.
...And don't judge me for being a Dale Carnegie fan. I don't care what anyone says- How to Make Friends and Influence People changed my LIFE. Read it. It will open your EYES.
Of course I sound insane. If you've known me long enough, you know I only pretend to have sense. :D
Monday, August 06, 2007
How the heck does your mouth get sunburned...?
I'm glad it's not that noticeable, but the part of my bottom lip closest to my teeth is yellower and swollen. It was bleeding yesterday cause my teeth kept rubbing up against it... It happened after that canoeing business this weekend, so I guess it's some strange sort of sunburn. It doesn't hurt so much any more, so that's good.
If Garrett ever mentions something about a helium stick to you...
...run.
I broke my vow to never play Mafia this weekend...apparently I can lie a whole lot better than I could two years ago. Yeah...not sure if that's a good thing. I don't know what was funnier- Dan's narration of the adventures of Doo-Doo Island (which is real and lies in the middle of Lake Murray) or Joel's...creative depictions of people's deaths (which was while I was Mafia, which made it so much worse...).
Tony made me a mix CD to educate me. It was the best mix ever...Celine Dion...
...and Tupac.
Both of which are best enjoyed while lip-syncing and making appropriate hand motions and grimaces.
If Garrett ever mentions something about a helium stick to you...
...run.
I broke my vow to never play Mafia this weekend...apparently I can lie a whole lot better than I could two years ago. Yeah...not sure if that's a good thing. I don't know what was funnier- Dan's narration of the adventures of Doo-Doo Island (which is real and lies in the middle of Lake Murray) or Joel's...creative depictions of people's deaths (which was while I was Mafia, which made it so much worse...).
Tony made me a mix CD to educate me. It was the best mix ever...Celine Dion...
...and Tupac.
Both of which are best enjoyed while lip-syncing and making appropriate hand motions and grimaces.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Time to dust off this thing...
I think this is the longest blog hiatus I've taken since I started this thing. I haven't had anything interesting to say lately. I'm fresh out of wit, and when cool, blog-worthy things happen to me, I don't get the urge to write until I don't really want to write about it anymore. I don't know if I'm afraid to write in here or what. I can't really tell you what I've been doing all summer. Class...and singing. A lot. For no apparent reason. Thank goodness for understanding roommates.
I'm not really depressed, but I wouldn't say I'm happy per se. I'm a little restless, but I'm not unsettled. I'm a little pissed at myself...I have regrets. Not life-ruining regrets, just if I could do it over I would regrets. Less time on this, more time on that...more walks in the late afternoon. Less procrastination. Less second-guessing myself. More letting people help me. It's amazing, but even though I've spent the majority of my time alone, I feel like I've been avoiding myself this summer.
...You know, maybe that's why I haven't written in a while. Maybe I've forgotten how to write in first person.
I'm not really depressed, but I wouldn't say I'm happy per se. I'm a little restless, but I'm not unsettled. I'm a little pissed at myself...I have regrets. Not life-ruining regrets, just if I could do it over I would regrets. Less time on this, more time on that...more walks in the late afternoon. Less procrastination. Less second-guessing myself. More letting people help me. It's amazing, but even though I've spent the majority of my time alone, I feel like I've been avoiding myself this summer.
...You know, maybe that's why I haven't written in a while. Maybe I've forgotten how to write in first person.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Tonight a psalm brought me to tears.
"Because he clung to me, I shall free him: I shall lift him up because he knows my name. He will call upon me and for my part, I will hear him: I am with him in his time of trouble. I shall rescue him and lead him to glory. I shall fill him with length of days and show him my salvation."
"Because he clung to me, I shall free him: I shall lift him up because he knows my name. He will call upon me and for my part, I will hear him: I am with him in his time of trouble. I shall rescue him and lead him to glory. I shall fill him with length of days and show him my salvation."
-Psalm 91: 14-16
If I could just find the courage to blindly believe that, I could...live. I mean really live, not this shadow thing I've been doing for the past couple of weeks. I've just been too tired and dejected to even talk much.
...Where's that feather boa? I'm pretty sure I dropped it somewhere...
Thursday, May 31, 2007
I got a new computer. I named it Greased Lightning.
I read over one of the stories in one of the manga serial magazines I bought in Japan. I could read almost the whole thing with comprehension...that was cool. I felt a small sense of accomplishment.
I feel as though I'm more and more reluctant to let my cracks show...people say they want to know others inside and out, and I really do believe that that's what they want at the time...but come on. The world we live in is not a patient one, and no one on this earth is willing to listen to your crap at all times (plus I think it's a little presumptuous to think they should). It's like I have a limit of how many times I can complain, and when I really need to vent, I've already used up all my opportunities for the week or something and I paint an ugly picture of myself to the other person. Either that or the other person is having a really sucky week themselves, so trying to one-up them with your own misery is kinda cruel...I'll chicken out every time.
Maybe I do complain too much. It's just that it's a lot less frequent than the internal worrying I do, so I tend not to realize that. And so, it's when I really need to vent that I complain...and when I'm not allowed or made to feel guilty about that, I get a little indignant, I'll admit.
Indignance...such an ugly emotion. I would say it's justified maybe 5% of the time...and the rest of the time, it's just silly, meaningless, puffed-up pride.
Pride gets in the way of love a lot. That's why I really don't like it. And I end up feeling ashamed cause it pops up so often in my life.
I read over one of the stories in one of the manga serial magazines I bought in Japan. I could read almost the whole thing with comprehension...that was cool. I felt a small sense of accomplishment.
I feel as though I'm more and more reluctant to let my cracks show...people say they want to know others inside and out, and I really do believe that that's what they want at the time...but come on. The world we live in is not a patient one, and no one on this earth is willing to listen to your crap at all times (plus I think it's a little presumptuous to think they should). It's like I have a limit of how many times I can complain, and when I really need to vent, I've already used up all my opportunities for the week or something and I paint an ugly picture of myself to the other person. Either that or the other person is having a really sucky week themselves, so trying to one-up them with your own misery is kinda cruel...I'll chicken out every time.
Maybe I do complain too much. It's just that it's a lot less frequent than the internal worrying I do, so I tend not to realize that. And so, it's when I really need to vent that I complain...and when I'm not allowed or made to feel guilty about that, I get a little indignant, I'll admit.
Indignance...such an ugly emotion. I would say it's justified maybe 5% of the time...and the rest of the time, it's just silly, meaningless, puffed-up pride.
Pride gets in the way of love a lot. That's why I really don't like it. And I end up feeling ashamed cause it pops up so often in my life.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Iwouldrathernotbetreatedlikeanobjectpleasethankyou.
That's all I have to say. Anything else just seems useless right now.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Sometimes you just can't accept substitutes.
Like Slim Jims.
No, seriously, think about it. You already don't know what's in that stuff...do you really want to take a chance with Cowboy jerky or whatever? I mean, that sort of situation is definitely not the time to be testing the grand unknown. At least go with the brand you know hasn't killed you...
...yet.
(Liza hearts nacho flavor, by the way. Something about the matrimony of processed meat and processed cheese...like...stuff is just magical.)
I was walking around today, and I said, "Hey, I can hear...and I haven't coughed once all day. Awesome." I've been sick for almost three weeks...it's a good feeling to be back to my old self. And just in time for finals...I'm thankful for that.
For my health, that is. Not finals. I have two on Thursday, two on next Monday...thankfully, both days are an easy one paired with a hard one. Lucky again.
I'll be staying in Columbia this summer. Wonder what that's gonna be like. Hope one of my job applications works out. I want some more money in my bank account...like besides loan money, which in my eyes is scary and tainted... (irrational debtophobes, anybody? *raises hand* Meeeee...)
Well, back to work. I have a paper to finish. It's going, slowly but surely. Wish me luck.
No, seriously, think about it. You already don't know what's in that stuff...do you really want to take a chance with Cowboy jerky or whatever? I mean, that sort of situation is definitely not the time to be testing the grand unknown. At least go with the brand you know hasn't killed you...
...yet.
(Liza hearts nacho flavor, by the way. Something about the matrimony of processed meat and processed cheese...like...stuff is just magical.)
I was walking around today, and I said, "Hey, I can hear...and I haven't coughed once all day. Awesome." I've been sick for almost three weeks...it's a good feeling to be back to my old self. And just in time for finals...I'm thankful for that.
For my health, that is. Not finals. I have two on Thursday, two on next Monday...thankfully, both days are an easy one paired with a hard one. Lucky again.
I'll be staying in Columbia this summer. Wonder what that's gonna be like. Hope one of my job applications works out. I want some more money in my bank account...like besides loan money, which in my eyes is scary and tainted... (irrational debtophobes, anybody? *raises hand* Meeeee...)
Well, back to work. I have a paper to finish. It's going, slowly but surely. Wish me luck.
Friday, April 13, 2007
My goal in life is to someday be as happy as this monkey must be right now.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Real friends will mop you up after you've dissolved into a puddle on their floor.
I'm serious. No fair-weather friend would love you in liquid form.
I'm sick. I have lots of work to do. I'm thankful I'm not sicker.
Sin isn't just the things you're sure are wrong, whether they're expressly in the Bible or part of your personal ideology. They're also the things you have to make well-thought arguments for not only to justify them to men but partly to yourself.
If you do something that you have the slightest twinge might be wrong, that's a sin. If you know what you need to do and don't do it, that's also a sin. (James 4:17)
...Oh, God. I'm glad you have lots more patience than I do, because so many of the things my brain comes up with are pointless in the end. The fact that pride should even be an issue with a constantly sinning creature like me is almost laughable.
"Empty-headed", indeed.
I'm sick. I have lots of work to do. I'm thankful I'm not sicker.
Sin isn't just the things you're sure are wrong, whether they're expressly in the Bible or part of your personal ideology. They're also the things you have to make well-thought arguments for not only to justify them to men but partly to yourself.
If you do something that you have the slightest twinge might be wrong, that's a sin. If you know what you need to do and don't do it, that's also a sin. (James 4:17)
...Oh, God. I'm glad you have lots more patience than I do, because so many of the things my brain comes up with are pointless in the end. The fact that pride should even be an issue with a constantly sinning creature like me is almost laughable.
"Empty-headed", indeed.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
My heart is a rock stuck in my throat...
It seems like I haven't been able to experience much besides varying shades of apathy for the past few days. Well, except for Covenant Group last night. That was awesome. :) I think it's because I have freaked myself out so much over the past few weeks that my emotions have finally gone into hibernation as they tend to do at times. You know something's not quite right when I find out I got a D on my exam Monday and I barely bat an eyelash, mutter something about the stupidity of making tests that are nothing like the homeworks and practice problems, which I always get right and get A's on, and come to the realization that I'm most likely getting a C out of the class with no tears and only slight resigned disgust.
Resigned. That's a good word to describe how I feel right now. I am somewhat concerned about my heart-state, but more for other people's sake. Honestly, I'm perfectly fine with being checked out emotionally for a little while. Productivity goes way up without those pesky feelings in the way. I just wonder if my apathy is showing when I'm talking to people. It's not that I don't want to care about what people are saying to me right now, but to be honest, dusting off my feelings is hard and something I'm doing with a tiny bit of resentment...and that's not cool. I want to care like I always do...I just feel like I can't handle my emotions right now.
But...
When I asked You to give me a heart for Your people and You said yes, neither of us meant "when it's convenient".
Resigned. That's a good word to describe how I feel right now. I am somewhat concerned about my heart-state, but more for other people's sake. Honestly, I'm perfectly fine with being checked out emotionally for a little while. Productivity goes way up without those pesky feelings in the way. I just wonder if my apathy is showing when I'm talking to people. It's not that I don't want to care about what people are saying to me right now, but to be honest, dusting off my feelings is hard and something I'm doing with a tiny bit of resentment...and that's not cool. I want to care like I always do...I just feel like I can't handle my emotions right now.
But...
When I asked You to give me a heart for Your people and You said yes, neither of us meant "when it's convenient".
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