HI THERE
The only reason I'm writing this is because a certain someone told me I should write something for the new year.
HERE YOU GO, CERTAIN SOMEONE WHOM I CARE VERY MUCH FOR. I AM WRITING THIS FOR YOU. IN SPITE OF THE FACT THAT YOU FED ME MORE ALCOHOL WHEN I WAS ALREADY OBVIOUSLY DRUNK.WHATEVER. I GOT HOME SAFE.
Once upon a time there lived a boy named Michael. Michael liked folk music. He lived for folk music. Every minute of his every day was devoted to folk music.
One day Michael's record player broke. And, although I didn't outline this earlier, dear reader, the record player was the only way Michael could listen to his folk music. So when it broke he was, naturally, distraught.
You might think that the solution to Michael's problem was to buy another record player. Unfortunately, there can be only one true record player for the true lover of folk music.
So Michael went through life with a broken record player. And he attempted to listen to folk music on it every minute of every day, to no avail.
THE END.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Can't sleep
This is going to be interesting. I am writing this post on my phone. Mistakes will be made. But I will most certainly try to be as mistake free as possible.
I just can't get to sleep. Too many bright lights. The color show is too spectacular. Fulfillment always lives on the same shelf as doubt. Every new love is quashed by a relentless yearning for the past, no matter how rich the potential future might be.
There are a thousand knots in my stomach at the moment; they are both a side effect of the hour and a tell-tale sign of my nervousness over new opportunities. It is rather painful to be awake right now.
I want to go back to university. I want to study English--you all know how I love words. And I want to study philosophy. Mulling over the state of humanity is a fascinating affair. But I need money to do that. Money is thin on the ground, especially soon, when I'll be paying for and living in the flat all by myself. So that dream will be a few years in the fulfilling.
I'm so lucky. My life is a whirlwind of adventurous chaos that usually make me cry. But I get to live it. And I do love my life, no matter how convincing my griping may be on the contrary.
I just can't get to sleep. Too many bright lights. The color show is too spectacular. Fulfillment always lives on the same shelf as doubt. Every new love is quashed by a relentless yearning for the past, no matter how rich the potential future might be.
There are a thousand knots in my stomach at the moment; they are both a side effect of the hour and a tell-tale sign of my nervousness over new opportunities. It is rather painful to be awake right now.
I want to go back to university. I want to study English--you all know how I love words. And I want to study philosophy. Mulling over the state of humanity is a fascinating affair. But I need money to do that. Money is thin on the ground, especially soon, when I'll be paying for and living in the flat all by myself. So that dream will be a few years in the fulfilling.
I'm so lucky. My life is a whirlwind of adventurous chaos that usually make me cry. But I get to live it. And I do love my life, no matter how convincing my griping may be on the contrary.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Champagne makes me think about you. Just like always.
LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA
Champagne makes me run up to the laundry room and sleep on things and then run around the hotel and accidentally steal chocolate cake and write blog posts in the hotel kitchen at 1:30 in the morning. I really don't have anything important to say, I'm just here alive and awake and on the internet.
I've been here for over six moths now. Here meaning England. I still don't know what's going on the with myself. It's been, what, four months since my break-up? I believe so. I don't remember the exact date. I delete my facebook account in which I sent the ultimatum message. You know, that has to have been the most sarcastic break up ever. I implied that our most intimate moments together were just as good as eating Thai food.
I was awful.
I do regret that. Did I make it out like he was the one to break things off? Because that's not true. It was me. And I still really hate myself for how I went about it. I was wrong. I mean, I wasn't wrong to stop putting up with crap, but I was still wrong in many important ways. Mostly because now I miss him so very much and I won't ever have a positive relationship with him because I was such a bitch. Which sucks. Because in nearly every way I still love him. And, unless he's reading this, which I kind of doubt, he'll never know that. I think he's made it clear that he never wants to hear from me again. How hard is that? Having someone that you spend at least 52% of your waking hours thinking about never wanting to know you ever again.
I just know that if he walked through the door right now it would alllll come back. And I would most definitely do something stupid. Like kiss him and tell him I love him. And I would mean it, too.
Y'all are probably tired of hearing about this break up. Because most of you are older and wiser and know that I will eventually fine someone who will want to be with me the way I want to be with him and we can get married and have no more than two children who better be girls. But right now the most perfect relationship I have had was that one. It was my favorite. The best. And I miss it all.
This is so jumbled. I do apologise. I also apologise to the parents of the kids I snapped at in the shop today. I'm sure you're doing a wonderful job raising your children and that their rudeness was a singular incident. I'm sorry for snapping.
THE END.
Champagne makes me run up to the laundry room and sleep on things and then run around the hotel and accidentally steal chocolate cake and write blog posts in the hotel kitchen at 1:30 in the morning. I really don't have anything important to say, I'm just here alive and awake and on the internet.
I've been here for over six moths now. Here meaning England. I still don't know what's going on the with myself. It's been, what, four months since my break-up? I believe so. I don't remember the exact date. I delete my facebook account in which I sent the ultimatum message. You know, that has to have been the most sarcastic break up ever. I implied that our most intimate moments together were just as good as eating Thai food.
I was awful.
I do regret that. Did I make it out like he was the one to break things off? Because that's not true. It was me. And I still really hate myself for how I went about it. I was wrong. I mean, I wasn't wrong to stop putting up with crap, but I was still wrong in many important ways. Mostly because now I miss him so very much and I won't ever have a positive relationship with him because I was such a bitch. Which sucks. Because in nearly every way I still love him. And, unless he's reading this, which I kind of doubt, he'll never know that. I think he's made it clear that he never wants to hear from me again. How hard is that? Having someone that you spend at least 52% of your waking hours thinking about never wanting to know you ever again.
I just know that if he walked through the door right now it would alllll come back. And I would most definitely do something stupid. Like kiss him and tell him I love him. And I would mean it, too.
Y'all are probably tired of hearing about this break up. Because most of you are older and wiser and know that I will eventually fine someone who will want to be with me the way I want to be with him and we can get married and have no more than two children who better be girls. But right now the most perfect relationship I have had was that one. It was my favorite. The best. And I miss it all.
This is so jumbled. I do apologise. I also apologise to the parents of the kids I snapped at in the shop today. I'm sure you're doing a wonderful job raising your children and that their rudeness was a singular incident. I'm sorry for snapping.
THE END.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Repeat: I am not pointless. I am not pointless. I am not pointless.
Oh, yesterday was such a bad day. So many things happening at the same time, and I swear I have some form of depression because I just wanted to have never existed. I couldn't see the point to being alive anymore. It seemed like nothing I do, nothing, was worth anything, that we all just spend our lives hoping for some future happiness and we have to put up with all the crap before we get there and we might die at any time anyway and what the hell is the point in putting up with other people getting what they want when I don't even know what I want, let alone going about getting it, and blah blah blah.
Not good.
And then I went to work and forgot about how pointless I was and did my job. And I felt a lot better.
And then I talked to my dad about why I was so damn mopey for a few days and he gave me a talking to. As all good dads do.
There is no avoiding sucky jobs and stupid people and heartbreaks, but it is all in pursuit of happiness. And happiness, even future happiness, is worth putting up with it all. At least I hope it is.
I also realized that I am not pointless. My existence is necessary and important. If only because I sometimes help my dad out and I play the piano for little kids. Even if this is the only reason I am to exist, no one else could have done it. Just me. So, from a logical point of view, I am worth something. I am the only me that would have made the choices I have made and helped the people I have helped and loved the people that I have loved. And that means I have contributed to the world in some small way or another.
In conclusion, our insignificant lives are actually rather necessary and important. So don't give up just yet.
Not good.
And then I went to work and forgot about how pointless I was and did my job. And I felt a lot better.
And then I talked to my dad about why I was so damn mopey for a few days and he gave me a talking to. As all good dads do.
There is no avoiding sucky jobs and stupid people and heartbreaks, but it is all in pursuit of happiness. And happiness, even future happiness, is worth putting up with it all. At least I hope it is.
I also realized that I am not pointless. My existence is necessary and important. If only because I sometimes help my dad out and I play the piano for little kids. Even if this is the only reason I am to exist, no one else could have done it. Just me. So, from a logical point of view, I am worth something. I am the only me that would have made the choices I have made and helped the people I have helped and loved the people that I have loved. And that means I have contributed to the world in some small way or another.
In conclusion, our insignificant lives are actually rather necessary and important. So don't give up just yet.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Memories at Dangerous Decibels
I'm doing that thing again. Wanting someone I shouldn't want. Craving a closeness I shouldn't crave. Getting frustrated over my inability to live logic rather
Our song. This song. It just came on. This is so ironic. I thought I was over you. I was just talking about someone else. I was craving someone else. And now our song is playing and I am remembering the way you danced around your room and I laid on your mattress and I just laughed because life was so good and you were so good and love was so good and then you clambered over to me and kissed me like I was made of glass and I thought you would never let me go...and it's that part of the song when you would drink me in with your eyes and you'd sing it to me because it was us, this song is us and it will never be anything else and you could tell me that just with your eyes and maybe you already knew that we would fall apart but you couldn't tell me that because this was our song and you know how happy I was, how happy you made me, watching you dancing and singing and kissing and being--because I loved you most when you were just being. And all of that is this song.
I am a bit of a mess. I am craving one person who is not in any way good for me, and I am aching because of another who will never again be mine. I was so convinced I was done aching. And that made it okay for me to crave someone else. But now it is obvious that I do not love either of them, and I need to, yet again, find that place where I am content being alone.
The other night I took my rifle up to the attic and fired approximately 400 pellets at paper targets and if you had been standing in front of them you I would have shot you because my aim is excellent. I had Calvin Harris playing at dangerous decibels, but it was acceptable because the whole world should have been listening with me and feeling with me and concentrating on that bulls eye right where I think the dip in your collarbone would be if I lined you up correctly and maybe someone would understand the reasons why I have no lovers, only weapons and words and wantings.
Our song. This song. It just came on. This is so ironic. I thought I was over you. I was just talking about someone else. I was craving someone else. And now our song is playing and I am remembering the way you danced around your room and I laid on your mattress and I just laughed because life was so good and you were so good and love was so good and then you clambered over to me and kissed me like I was made of glass and I thought you would never let me go...and it's that part of the song when you would drink me in with your eyes and you'd sing it to me because it was us, this song is us and it will never be anything else and you could tell me that just with your eyes and maybe you already knew that we would fall apart but you couldn't tell me that because this was our song and you know how happy I was, how happy you made me, watching you dancing and singing and kissing and being--because I loved you most when you were just being. And all of that is this song.
I am a bit of a mess. I am craving one person who is not in any way good for me, and I am aching because of another who will never again be mine. I was so convinced I was done aching. And that made it okay for me to crave someone else. But now it is obvious that I do not love either of them, and I need to, yet again, find that place where I am content being alone.
The other night I took my rifle up to the attic and fired approximately 400 pellets at paper targets and if you had been standing in front of them you I would have shot you because my aim is excellent. I had Calvin Harris playing at dangerous decibels, but it was acceptable because the whole world should have been listening with me and feeling with me and concentrating on that bulls eye right where I think the dip in your collarbone would be if I lined you up correctly and maybe someone would understand the reasons why I have no lovers, only weapons and words and wantings.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
The world's beauty spyglass sucks. I like mine better.
Here's a fact that will not be in the least bit surprising. I can count the parts of my body that I like on one hand.
1) I like my collarbones.
2) I like my eyes.
3) I like the color of my hair.
4) I like my wrists.
That's all. Four things. Name any other body part and I could tell you what's wrong with it. It's mostly to do with my skin--I am a lump of stretch marks and red scars and the hills and valleys of cellulite that are a testament to my love of pastry and lack of exercise. I am rightfully ashamed of my blotchiness, my skin being so white that the transparency leaves me veiny blue. My chest, shoulders, and back are a canvass of spot constellations. I already have the beginnings of varicose veins on my legs. I am not noticeably chubby around my middle because I hold my stomach in all the time, but if I didn't do that I would look a couple of months pregnant. Which wouldn't be so bad. If I were pregnant. But I'm not. So it's bad.
I could continue. But there's an actual thing I want to say besides I don't really like how I look. The truth is, I would be perfectly happy with my body if I didn't feel I had to fix my stretch marks and my flabby legs and my man fingers to be acceptable. I wish I didn't feel like the world shudders whenever I wear a pair of shorts or go out without make up. And to a certain extent I have the ability to not care about the public's preferences when it comes to a woman's body, but in the end I would like my appearance to translate how I feel. I feel beautiful when I don't have to look in a mirror or go outside. The world, however, only sees beautiful in a certain way, so to get that sentiment across I have to fit in with everyone else's standard of beauty. It kind of sucks. But there it is. At least there are four things about myself that I'm proud of.
1) I like my collarbones.
2) I like my eyes.
3) I like the color of my hair.
4) I like my wrists.
That's all. Four things. Name any other body part and I could tell you what's wrong with it. It's mostly to do with my skin--I am a lump of stretch marks and red scars and the hills and valleys of cellulite that are a testament to my love of pastry and lack of exercise. I am rightfully ashamed of my blotchiness, my skin being so white that the transparency leaves me veiny blue. My chest, shoulders, and back are a canvass of spot constellations. I already have the beginnings of varicose veins on my legs. I am not noticeably chubby around my middle because I hold my stomach in all the time, but if I didn't do that I would look a couple of months pregnant. Which wouldn't be so bad. If I were pregnant. But I'm not. So it's bad.
I could continue. But there's an actual thing I want to say besides I don't really like how I look. The truth is, I would be perfectly happy with my body if I didn't feel I had to fix my stretch marks and my flabby legs and my man fingers to be acceptable. I wish I didn't feel like the world shudders whenever I wear a pair of shorts or go out without make up. And to a certain extent I have the ability to not care about the public's preferences when it comes to a woman's body, but in the end I would like my appearance to translate how I feel. I feel beautiful when I don't have to look in a mirror or go outside. The world, however, only sees beautiful in a certain way, so to get that sentiment across I have to fit in with everyone else's standard of beauty. It kind of sucks. But there it is. At least there are four things about myself that I'm proud of.
Saturday, August 31, 2013
I'm a single lady. My hands are up.
I hate being single.
I hate it.
I need someone to love.
I need someone to love me right back.
Not just ‘love’.
LOVE love.
It’s getting to the point where my brain is making compromises and cutting corners to convince myself that it’s okay to be with people that I really am not okay being with because at least the whole love thing will be happening.
THIS IS NOT GOOD. I AM TELLING MYSELF LIES. REALLY, REALLY NICE LIES.
I want to believe brain when it tells me that I can ignore certain characteristics in men and consider them as potential partners. I have no faith in the idea that I am guaranteed to find the perfect man for me in an adequate time frame. Every day that passes is a day that I am not spending with aforementioned perfect man. So settling sounds like a wonderful option.
But, hey. I value my sanity too much to get into a relationship where I am doing all the loving. I am worth more than a relationship with a half-decent guy. Heart has that figured out. Now, if my brain could do that too, that would be fab.
I’m just going to promise you now, dear reader, that the next man I date will tick all of the important boxes, and I will not be stupid.
I hate it.
I need someone to love.
I need someone to love me right back.
Not just ‘love’.
LOVE love.
It’s getting to the point where my brain is making compromises and cutting corners to convince myself that it’s okay to be with people that I really am not okay being with because at least the whole love thing will be happening.
THIS IS NOT GOOD. I AM TELLING MYSELF LIES. REALLY, REALLY NICE LIES.
I want to believe brain when it tells me that I can ignore certain characteristics in men and consider them as potential partners. I have no faith in the idea that I am guaranteed to find the perfect man for me in an adequate time frame. Every day that passes is a day that I am not spending with aforementioned perfect man. So settling sounds like a wonderful option.
But, hey. I value my sanity too much to get into a relationship where I am doing all the loving. I am worth more than a relationship with a half-decent guy. Heart has that figured out. Now, if my brain could do that too, that would be fab.
I’m just going to promise you now, dear reader, that the next man I date will tick all of the important boxes, and I will not be stupid.
Friday, August 9, 2013
Simmering Down
There are things we can change. And there are things we cannot change. Happily, thankfully, I am perfectly capable of changing myself. From the last post to now my life has had no dramatic turnaround. I still don't really have friends. The charity shop is still as boring as hell. I still smash fragile crockery on the kitchen floor of the restaurant. There are still obnoxious Middle Eastern women who come into the newsagents ferociously jabbering about...well...I don't even know what. Almost-Perfect-Should-Have-Loved-Me-But-Doesn't stays his quiet unexplained self with still no apology or goodbye. But I've had my time to bitch about it all (as, dear reader, I'm sure you have witnessed), and I've decided that I will stop bitching about these problems for a while.
I am now experiencing the difficult yet grand phenomenon of time healing all lovers' wounds. In the past I managed to haphazardly stitch up my broken heart with the fascinating recluse of yet another short-lived relationship. Now I welcome the opportunity, mostly out of necessity, to play peacekeeper in my own kingdom and not rely on the next male whose eyes tell me I'm pretty--or at least prettier than the other girl in the room--to make me feel whole again.
Now, in saying that, if the opportunity for an actual, well-founded, loving relationship were to unveil itself in the very near future with a man who actually cares for me and with whom I share common interests and I find attractive and who buys me flowers and lets me snuggle with while we watch movies or read out loud and who will sincerely enjoy the way I sing and who will let me cook for him even if I suck at it and who will make me feel comfortable in every situation and who won't mind if I get a little chubby (because I love chocolate and I hate exercise) and will hold my hand in public and who will love me despite the fact that I don't really like doing things outside except going for walks or picnics and is someone whom my Dad approves of and who is a tad bit rough around the edges and who would be honestly happy with me for just being me and he could be him and we, both of us together, were happy in every way....if this were to happen, I say screw you, wound-healing time phenomenons--get over here, Prince Phillip and claim your Sleeping Beauty.
The likelihood of this happening even in the course of my lifetime is fairly close to absolutely impossible. So I plan on waiting this one out. Letting the pain and the passion simmer and mold into peace. Letting me be me. Letting life be life. Letting the clock tick onward and the planet keep spinning. Letting memories be memories, not the very air I breathe. Not fretting over what once was, but creating a great and vivid now.
I am now experiencing the difficult yet grand phenomenon of time healing all lovers' wounds. In the past I managed to haphazardly stitch up my broken heart with the fascinating recluse of yet another short-lived relationship. Now I welcome the opportunity, mostly out of necessity, to play peacekeeper in my own kingdom and not rely on the next male whose eyes tell me I'm pretty--or at least prettier than the other girl in the room--to make me feel whole again.
Now, in saying that, if the opportunity for an actual, well-founded, loving relationship were to unveil itself in the very near future with a man who actually cares for me and with whom I share common interests and I find attractive and who buys me flowers and lets me snuggle with while we watch movies or read out loud and who will sincerely enjoy the way I sing and who will let me cook for him even if I suck at it and who will make me feel comfortable in every situation and who won't mind if I get a little chubby (because I love chocolate and I hate exercise) and will hold my hand in public and who will love me despite the fact that I don't really like doing things outside except going for walks or picnics and is someone whom my Dad approves of and who is a tad bit rough around the edges and who would be honestly happy with me for just being me and he could be him and we, both of us together, were happy in every way....if this were to happen, I say screw you, wound-healing time phenomenons--get over here, Prince Phillip and claim your Sleeping Beauty.
The likelihood of this happening even in the course of my lifetime is fairly close to absolutely impossible. So I plan on waiting this one out. Letting the pain and the passion simmer and mold into peace. Letting me be me. Letting life be life. Letting the clock tick onward and the planet keep spinning. Letting memories be memories, not the very air I breathe. Not fretting over what once was, but creating a great and vivid now.
Friday, July 26, 2013
The Attention-Seeking Whiner. Me.
So I had a total of four views on my last blog post. One person said they were going to miss me on facebook. I'm assuming that you, dear reader, already consider me an attention-seeking whiner. And to that I say: you're right. Deal with it. You wanna know why I might have turned into an attention-seeking whiner? Because, although I have my family and the odd friendly co-worker, I have no friends here in England except for the Sister Missionaries. Whoop. De. Doo. Since I'm not even a member of the church any more, that fact is just pathetic, as nice as they are. My boyfriend, or I suppose my ex-boyfriend, hasn't talked to or texted me in about five weeks. Fair enough. But that includes the three weeks previous to my breaking up with him, so he didn't even say goodbye to me. He didn't even say "I really hate you Danie. I'm never communicating with you again." He just....stopped. Nothing. To me, anyway. The updates about his fabulous escapades with his friends, his sheer delight as he collects girl's phone numbers, and weekly self-promoting selfies (redundant wording, I am aware) were and are all daggers to my heart. Because he has time for the masses, but didn't have time for me. If you were wondering why I deleted my facebook account, it's because I knew if I had access to his status updates and the photographic chronology of his life there would be no chance of me ever moving on from that relationship. So I removed myself from a permanent stalking of his existence. When I tried to be strong about the break-up, I just looked like an idiot. And when I tried to apologize to him publicly I got called "desperate". Guess what, reader? That is also accurate. I am desperate. I am a desperate, attention-seeking whiner. And I get to write about it however I feel like, because it's my freaking blog.
There's another thing. I've received complaints and concerns about what I write here. FINE. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN DON'T FRACKING READ IT. I am not writing to make you, dear reader, feel comfortable or give you illusions about how put-together I am. This blog is me in my resplendent madness. I'm not attempting to sell myself as a perfect human. I'm not trying to be an example of how to live life. I hope you don't expect the deep and profound here, because all you are going to find are the random musings and fleeting fancies of a confused, satisfied, angry, content, messed up human being. Because, yet again, I am all of those things. I don't like pretending to be something I'm not.
I am sorry if anyone is offended. Because I can imagine that even the random people in Korea that apparently read this blog could find something to be offended about here. But this is what it is. I wish we could all acknowledge that people are people, and we really shouldn't expect the people we know to contribute positively to our lives just because we happen to know them. That's not my job, dear reader. I have no job. I just write.
Thanks. I'm gonna get back to not sleeping before my 14 hour workday tomorrow.
There's another thing. I've received complaints and concerns about what I write here. FINE. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN DON'T FRACKING READ IT. I am not writing to make you, dear reader, feel comfortable or give you illusions about how put-together I am. This blog is me in my resplendent madness. I'm not attempting to sell myself as a perfect human. I'm not trying to be an example of how to live life. I hope you don't expect the deep and profound here, because all you are going to find are the random musings and fleeting fancies of a confused, satisfied, angry, content, messed up human being. Because, yet again, I am all of those things. I don't like pretending to be something I'm not.
I am sorry if anyone is offended. Because I can imagine that even the random people in Korea that apparently read this blog could find something to be offended about here. But this is what it is. I wish we could all acknowledge that people are people, and we really shouldn't expect the people we know to contribute positively to our lives just because we happen to know them. That's not my job, dear reader. I have no job. I just write.
Thanks. I'm gonna get back to not sleeping before my 14 hour workday tomorrow.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
I did a crazy thing!
I made a new best friend today....and checked off a bucket list item. Here she is :)
Isn't she lovely? :D
Sunday, July 14, 2013
The bravado is mostly facade...and other words I can't tell you.
I'm writing this here because you won't read what I have to say if I say it anywhere else. And, as I assume is preferable, I won't have to know when or if you've read it..
I can't tell you that I love you because you won't believe me and people tell me it isn't the right thing to say any more. I should move on and find someone who is willing to commit to me, they say. I don't want to listen to them because you are my perfection and, although the freedom of choice gave me an initial rush, no one compares to you. I do not want to settle. I worried about one thing, we didn't understand each other, and then everything blew up.
I can put on my tough face and splatter the internet with exclamations of my strength and bravado, but it is mostly a facade. What I want is understanding. What I really want is you. It is true that I can be happy without you, but I have a much greater capacity for happiness when you are with me. What really kills is that it appears to be so easy for you to forget about me. Your happiness is still intact. I suppose that's my fault for doing everything I could to force you to miss me. Bravado doesn't suit me, does it?
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Determination
I realized yesterday that I am crazy.
You'd think I knew that already. But it was an epiphany. I am crazy. I have issues. I am not a perfect human being. There are things about me that I need to fix.
So here's the plan. I am going to fix myself. Because, although I am more than happy to recognize the importance of defects and quirks in every human being, there are a couple of quirks I have that are messing my life up and hurting people I really love. And I'm not proud of that.
A conversation I had with my Dad in the car yesterday was centered around the idea of change. How much can we change ourselves? Is it actually beneficial to change for another person? Are you required to keep loving someone if they change beyond the scope of your original love? I came to the conclusion that as long as the motivation behind personal change is to keep hold of something more important to you than yourself, the change is well worth it.
And love is always well worth it. So fix myself I shall.
You'd think I knew that already. But it was an epiphany. I am crazy. I have issues. I am not a perfect human being. There are things about me that I need to fix.
So here's the plan. I am going to fix myself. Because, although I am more than happy to recognize the importance of defects and quirks in every human being, there are a couple of quirks I have that are messing my life up and hurting people I really love. And I'm not proud of that.
A conversation I had with my Dad in the car yesterday was centered around the idea of change. How much can we change ourselves? Is it actually beneficial to change for another person? Are you required to keep loving someone if they change beyond the scope of your original love? I came to the conclusion that as long as the motivation behind personal change is to keep hold of something more important to you than yourself, the change is well worth it.
And love is always well worth it. So fix myself I shall.
Friday, June 28, 2013
Of Mice, Men, and Best-Laid Schemes
I
am very fortunate. I have a family that loves me dearly. I am so happy living
with my Dad. I’m lucky enough to be achieving my life-long dream of moving back
to England. I start a new job tomorrow and have another lined up for next week.
I have a piano. I am healthy. I am clothed. For the most part I am happy.
But
there’s always that one thing, that horrible blow that comes out of the blue.
It’s just one problem or upset or issue that, if focused on, would cause you to
label your entire existence a misery. I should have expected it, I suppose.
Things are going so well. Everything is so perfect. So OF COURSE life felt it
needed to throw in a little betrayal here, some brutal honesty there, douse it
all in a bucketful of heartbreak. And it’s an agony I can’t fix. It’s not up to me. This portion of my happiness rests
on the shoulders of another human being and I can’t force them to choose to
keep me happy. They have to make their own damn decision.
In
summation: it sucks. I’ve been crying out a friggin’ river for the past couple
of days. I worry so much I start shaking and have to sit down. I attempt to
explain myself, but can’t get the words right when all I want to say is that I
WANT YOU TO STAY. I STILL LOVE YOU. WILL YOU PLEASE NOT GIVE UP SO EASILY.
WOULD YOU KINDLY LOVE ME FOREVER AND NEVER LEAVE ME.
But
all my wishing and wanting and wailing is silly. It’s not up to me. Though the
issue will constantly loom over me every minute of every day until it resolved,
I am willing to acknowledge that I have an awful lot of good experiences and
opportunities in my life right now, and my life does not need to be utterly
dominated by this problem. So tomorrow at work I will do my best to focus on
the customers, properly operate a till, and keep my happy face on.
The
situation does remind me of part of a poem.
The
best laid schemes of mice and men
Go
often awry,
And
leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For
promised joy!
--To A Mouse; Robert Burns—
The
entire poem is fabulous. Go read it. It accurately illustrates that you can
plan things for your future and be so sure of certain truths, but the future
can change at any moment and nothing is definite. How true that is.
Monday, June 24, 2013
Avoiding Obscurity
I don't know what it is with me and hyperventilating these days, but I'm doing it again. It's Facebook's fault. I read all about your lives and miss you too much. I start feeling unnecessary. I feel forgotten.
The only thing I fear in life is being forgotten--especially by the people I love most. To be forgotten by the very beings that my every thought revolves around is a terrifying situation.
You are the ones I love. My thoughts are on you. Constantly. I am not asking for your every attention, just a deliberate thought now and again.
The only thing I fear in life is being forgotten--especially by the people I love most. To be forgotten by the very beings that my every thought revolves around is a terrifying situation.
You are the ones I love. My thoughts are on you. Constantly. I am not asking for your every attention, just a deliberate thought now and again.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Your average Wednesday. Ish.
Today has been a strange day so far. I woke up after having a rather terrifying dream which caused me to seriously reconsider my life choices (not the greatest way to start a day). Then I discovered that I was the only one awake. I don't like being the only one awake. So I took a bath. I got ready for the day. By 12:30 I was still the only one awake. So I came here to the library. Scrolling through facebook I got to reflecting on all of the people I used to know and why they are so much better than me. And now I am finding it a little difficult to breathe because I don't know what I'm doing with my life. Also I have a cold.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Bedford is an interesting town. You'd be really hard pressed to find a white person in a randomly picked group of twenty shoppers. I haven't had a conversation with someone my own age since I've been here (and, as follows, I have no friends...whoop). The teenagers I do find appear to be shallow idiots who, I'm fairly sure, are all entered in the "How Fake Can You Look" competition. I don't get along with these people very well. So I just do my own thing. I come to the library and take advantage of the free wi-fi. I walk around the market pretending I have money to spend. I think Bedford and I are okay with each other, even if we have both changed quite a bit.
I'm sending in an application to an airline for a flight attendant position. Wish me luck.
Aaaaaahhh. I hate being so unsure of things. I feel like I need to write something really profound. I'm all out of profound. It's been eaten by worry.
Oh, I can tell you that my piano got tuned yesterday, and it is beautiful! Granted, it is not a perfect sounding piano, mostly due to its age. It was made in 1901, so it's an antique. A couple of the notes sound very coppery and the pedal squeaks, but it works. Music actually sounds like music now. The guy who came and tuned it did tell me to be cautious when playing loudly so the wires don't slip...um, pardon? How exactly does one play pounding pieces cautiously? Let's just hope the poor piano can take it, because I will not be toning down Grieg or Debussy.
I am breathing a little easier now.
I love you all.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Bedford is an interesting town. You'd be really hard pressed to find a white person in a randomly picked group of twenty shoppers. I haven't had a conversation with someone my own age since I've been here (and, as follows, I have no friends...whoop). The teenagers I do find appear to be shallow idiots who, I'm fairly sure, are all entered in the "How Fake Can You Look" competition. I don't get along with these people very well. So I just do my own thing. I come to the library and take advantage of the free wi-fi. I walk around the market pretending I have money to spend. I think Bedford and I are okay with each other, even if we have both changed quite a bit.
I'm sending in an application to an airline for a flight attendant position. Wish me luck.
Aaaaaahhh. I hate being so unsure of things. I feel like I need to write something really profound. I'm all out of profound. It's been eaten by worry.
Oh, I can tell you that my piano got tuned yesterday, and it is beautiful! Granted, it is not a perfect sounding piano, mostly due to its age. It was made in 1901, so it's an antique. A couple of the notes sound very coppery and the pedal squeaks, but it works. Music actually sounds like music now. The guy who came and tuned it did tell me to be cautious when playing loudly so the wires don't slip...um, pardon? How exactly does one play pounding pieces cautiously? Let's just hope the poor piano can take it, because I will not be toning down Grieg or Debussy.
I am breathing a little easier now.
I love you all.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!!
So far the birthday celebrations have consisted of Dad and I getting into a birthday dance-off, which he most definitely won. Also singing in a ridiculous manner. Us Herberts are just a bunch of awesome all put together. I have no idea what else I'm doing today, but it will be epic.
Before I go to sleep for the night, I thought an excellent way to commemorate my birthday would be thanking everyone who has had an impact on my life. I won't get you all, but here are a few of you who've helped me to stay alive by the age of 19.
Mom! Thanks for facilitating my birth. Also for not abandoning me when I did/do stupid things, or when I threw tantrums, or when I didn't appreciate everything you've done for me. Because without you I would not be here. I love you very much :). You are a wonderful mother, and I am proud to be your daughter.
Hannah! I would be significantly less mentally stable if you were not my sister, Han. You've listened to me cry about little things and big things, you've given me advice, and basically just been my best friend for my entire life. Words cannot express how much I love you. So, thanks :)
Brooke, Mallory, Jamie, Kyrie, Jake, and Sam...I have often wondered how I became lucky enough to get you all for my greatest friends. I have no clue. You are seriously the best people on this planet. You made high school bearable. You made my personal life bearable. You are the best.
Caden...I made it through my first semester of college because of you and your love and kindness. If I just needed a hug at midnight, or ice-cream, or popcorn (it generally was food, wasn't it?), you were willing to help me out. As my first official boyfriend, you will always be close to my heart.
Dean...you made my second semester of college bearable. We were truly insane, but it was admittedly truly fantastic. You introduced me to the Nerdfighters (whom I also love). I taught you how to make scrambled eggs. You taught me that I'm not always right even when I am SO SURE that I am. Somehow being with you always made me happy regardless of the fact that my life at that point in time was truly awful. So thank you :)
Jamie and Jenna...because you two were always there for me at BYU. I love you guys :)
Greyson...***NOTE TO READER: I might get really mushy here, but it's my freaking birthday, so I say whatever I like and you are not allowed to complain.*** I don't know if there is any sequence of words that I could string together to accurately describe us. We are amazing. We are crazy. We are flippin' magical. Being with you has liberated me, changed me in ways I never imagined. I've never fallen in love with anyone so quickly. But I think the pure fact that we are somehow managing to keep this relationship going in spite of the giant obstacle of an ocean in between us is a testament to our strength. I love you so, SO much, and if you don't mind, I think I'll keep doing that for a while longer.
Mrs. Newby, Mrs. Petersen, Miss Rhodehouse, Mr. Seamons, Mama C, Mr. Andersen, Mr. Shelley, Mr. Hagert, Miss Boren, Mrs. Lederer, Mrs. Lynch, Professor Liz Christiansen, Mrs. Haburay, Mrs. Bode, Mrs. O'Brien, Mrs. Coop, and Brother Trent Boulter...nothing replaces an excellent teacher. Each one of you have changed my life--and not just by a little bit. I will remember you and the things you've taught me forever.
Debbie Farrell and Sonya Hammock...the piano is so important to me, and it is because of your faith in me and patience with me that I've gotten as far as I have. It was hard work, but it is so worth it.
I most certainly have not covered everyone. There are church leaders who have helped me, extended family members, neighbours, teachers, friends, band kids, classmates, co-workers. You have all shaped who I am. So thank you, everybody, for making the past 19 years of my life a success. For the most part. I've still got some growing to do :)
Before I go to sleep for the night, I thought an excellent way to commemorate my birthday would be thanking everyone who has had an impact on my life. I won't get you all, but here are a few of you who've helped me to stay alive by the age of 19.
Mom! Thanks for facilitating my birth. Also for not abandoning me when I did/do stupid things, or when I threw tantrums, or when I didn't appreciate everything you've done for me. Because without you I would not be here. I love you very much :). You are a wonderful mother, and I am proud to be your daughter.
Hannah! I would be significantly less mentally stable if you were not my sister, Han. You've listened to me cry about little things and big things, you've given me advice, and basically just been my best friend for my entire life. Words cannot express how much I love you. So, thanks :)
Brooke, Mallory, Jamie, Kyrie, Jake, and Sam...I have often wondered how I became lucky enough to get you all for my greatest friends. I have no clue. You are seriously the best people on this planet. You made high school bearable. You made my personal life bearable. You are the best.
Caden...I made it through my first semester of college because of you and your love and kindness. If I just needed a hug at midnight, or ice-cream, or popcorn (it generally was food, wasn't it?), you were willing to help me out. As my first official boyfriend, you will always be close to my heart.
Dean...you made my second semester of college bearable. We were truly insane, but it was admittedly truly fantastic. You introduced me to the Nerdfighters (whom I also love). I taught you how to make scrambled eggs. You taught me that I'm not always right even when I am SO SURE that I am. Somehow being with you always made me happy regardless of the fact that my life at that point in time was truly awful. So thank you :)
Jamie and Jenna...because you two were always there for me at BYU. I love you guys :)
Greyson...***NOTE TO READER: I might get really mushy here, but it's my freaking birthday, so I say whatever I like and you are not allowed to complain.*** I don't know if there is any sequence of words that I could string together to accurately describe us. We are amazing. We are crazy. We are flippin' magical. Being with you has liberated me, changed me in ways I never imagined. I've never fallen in love with anyone so quickly. But I think the pure fact that we are somehow managing to keep this relationship going in spite of the giant obstacle of an ocean in between us is a testament to our strength. I love you so, SO much, and if you don't mind, I think I'll keep doing that for a while longer.
Mrs. Newby, Mrs. Petersen, Miss Rhodehouse, Mr. Seamons, Mama C, Mr. Andersen, Mr. Shelley, Mr. Hagert, Miss Boren, Mrs. Lederer, Mrs. Lynch, Professor Liz Christiansen, Mrs. Haburay, Mrs. Bode, Mrs. O'Brien, Mrs. Coop, and Brother Trent Boulter...nothing replaces an excellent teacher. Each one of you have changed my life--and not just by a little bit. I will remember you and the things you've taught me forever.
Debbie Farrell and Sonya Hammock...the piano is so important to me, and it is because of your faith in me and patience with me that I've gotten as far as I have. It was hard work, but it is so worth it.
I most certainly have not covered everyone. There are church leaders who have helped me, extended family members, neighbours, teachers, friends, band kids, classmates, co-workers. You have all shaped who I am. So thank you, everybody, for making the past 19 years of my life a success. For the most part. I've still got some growing to do :)
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
In Summation: This is Contentment
I could spend a paragraph telling you about how sorry I am that I haven’t written a blog post sooner---but you already know that I’m really sorry. So this will do :)
I LOVE ENGLAND. My favorite part would have to be being with my Daddy. He and I are like best friends that don’t see each other for years, but pick up right where they left off every time they meet. He took me to a job agency to get my national insurance number, and we were making fun of each other as the lady who was helping us filled out some paperwork. She asked me to sign somewhere and then said, “You two are great friends, aren’t you? You don’t see that much these days.” And that’s exactly how it is, Dad and I. We take each other as we are, see humor in everything. He teaches me every day that nothing is impossible. Lifting heavy filing cabinets up attic stairways. Adamantly voicing an unpopular opinion to a strong opposition. Scavenging town in search of a cucumber for salad. We talk to each other about life. He tells me stupid things he’s done, why and if he stopped doing them. He’s interested in the life I’ve lived without him for so long, and I’m willing to talk to him—if only because I want him to know exactly who I’ve become over so many years.
Keeping up appearances is too tiring for a real relationship. As my favorite quote states, “Honesty is the first chapter in the book of Wisdom.” I trust Mr. Jefferson on this one. Lying is ridiculous. Personal peace is a result of accepting every facet of who you are and not being afraid of other people seeing you exposed like that. Understanding that you will live in the way you feel is correct regardless of judgment from the outside world. I can tell you for a fact that I have felt far more stability from living true to myself than from making myself sick trying to please other people and doing the things I ‘should’ be doing.
Moving on from that particular soapbox, I have an announcement to make. IT’S ALMOST MY BIRTHDAY!!! I’d say that most people know how much I love birthdays. Those same people also know that I usually don’t do an awful lot on my own birthday (which happens to be on June 10th. *cough*). But this year is different, my friends! Something has happened!
MAH DADDY GOTS ME A PIANO! My very own piano! Ebay is a beautiful place, my friends. So we went and got the piano a couple of days ago. It was so unbelievably dirty and dusty. We decided that we just needed to make my baby gleam. And that’s what I’ve been working on for the past two days—my beautiful piano. The inside of it was basically composed of cobwebs and decaying spiders and dust. The dust on the bottom was literally an inch thick. So we took a hoover to it, and we took a dustpan and brush to it, and we found a bottle brush and got in all the cracks and crevices until not a speck of dirt remained. Then we washed the outside with three different cleaners. Today I found a wood correction pen and filled in all of the scratches, and then we started waxing it. I’ll have it finished tomorrow. Waxing a piano takes a hell of a long time. But it is so radiant. The only problem is how to get it up the rather skinny, steep stairs of ours. I have no clue. It will happen, though.
I have been keeping busy in recent weeks by reading. In the past two and a half weeks I’ve read Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Burns, The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith, Every Touch Leaves a Trace by…somebody, The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hossini, The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, and The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho. I’m about to start The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. I haven’t read this much since I was in 10th grade. It is wonderful.
Miraculously, England has decided to finally settle into summer weather. I was working on the piano out in the garden and purposely wore a skirt so my white legs could get some sun on them. I think I only successfully managed to burn my shoulders, but let’s hope something came of it. I am so white that people stare. It’s slightly embarrassing to be stared at for my whiteness, particularly in Europe. I’ve been told that it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but I’m fairly positive I’m not getting stares of admiration on the high street.
Enough about my skin. I have not had any luck in the job department yet, but my CV is basically finished, so I can send that in to a few places and see what happens. It will be when it is meant to be. For now all I can do it try.
I’ve been pondering recently about love. You don’t really get taught about love, do you? No one explains it properly. They get poetic. Really all I want to know is how to tell if you’ve fallen in it, and what’s a good indication that staying in it is a wise decision. I’ve been in love before, but it felt different each time. Is there one kind of love? If not, is one kind true than another? Is your ‘true love’ the person that you feel a particular shade of love for? It’s so damn confusing. I’m rather happy where I am with it right now, but answers are always nice.
My dear sister Hannah graduated from high school on Friday. That was crazy sauce. She is a fantastic person. She will be a fantastic college student. She will be a fantastic artist. She will be a fantastic roommate to whoever is lucky enough to be there with her. She is the most wonderful sister in the entire world, out of anyone that has ever been a sister to a sibling. And I’m sure most of you would agree with that. I can sing her praises because I genuinely think this about her. There’s no pretending over here. I love you, banana :)
This entry is verging on two pages in a word document, so it’s past time to wrap up my thoughts. They are long and scattered. I think they’re interesting. In saying that, they are my thoughts. I might be a little partial to them.
Goodnight, world…
P.S. I would absolutely love to post pictures here, but my camera’s battery is drained and my charger is an American charger and I don’t have a converter. If anyone happens to have a spare American-to-British electric converter that I could have, I would love you forever. Then I’ll post pictures.
P.P.S. I rode on the back of my Dad's motorbike today. Words cannot describe how much I enjoyed it. If any of you were curious, his bike is a lime green Kawakai Ninja (at least I'm fairly sure it's Kawakai. It's Kawa-something). And I look fabulous in my leathers. Just for the record.
I LOVE ENGLAND. My favorite part would have to be being with my Daddy. He and I are like best friends that don’t see each other for years, but pick up right where they left off every time they meet. He took me to a job agency to get my national insurance number, and we were making fun of each other as the lady who was helping us filled out some paperwork. She asked me to sign somewhere and then said, “You two are great friends, aren’t you? You don’t see that much these days.” And that’s exactly how it is, Dad and I. We take each other as we are, see humor in everything. He teaches me every day that nothing is impossible. Lifting heavy filing cabinets up attic stairways. Adamantly voicing an unpopular opinion to a strong opposition. Scavenging town in search of a cucumber for salad. We talk to each other about life. He tells me stupid things he’s done, why and if he stopped doing them. He’s interested in the life I’ve lived without him for so long, and I’m willing to talk to him—if only because I want him to know exactly who I’ve become over so many years.
Keeping up appearances is too tiring for a real relationship. As my favorite quote states, “Honesty is the first chapter in the book of Wisdom.” I trust Mr. Jefferson on this one. Lying is ridiculous. Personal peace is a result of accepting every facet of who you are and not being afraid of other people seeing you exposed like that. Understanding that you will live in the way you feel is correct regardless of judgment from the outside world. I can tell you for a fact that I have felt far more stability from living true to myself than from making myself sick trying to please other people and doing the things I ‘should’ be doing.
Moving on from that particular soapbox, I have an announcement to make. IT’S ALMOST MY BIRTHDAY!!! I’d say that most people know how much I love birthdays. Those same people also know that I usually don’t do an awful lot on my own birthday (which happens to be on June 10th. *cough*). But this year is different, my friends! Something has happened!
MAH DADDY GOTS ME A PIANO! My very own piano! Ebay is a beautiful place, my friends. So we went and got the piano a couple of days ago. It was so unbelievably dirty and dusty. We decided that we just needed to make my baby gleam. And that’s what I’ve been working on for the past two days—my beautiful piano. The inside of it was basically composed of cobwebs and decaying spiders and dust. The dust on the bottom was literally an inch thick. So we took a hoover to it, and we took a dustpan and brush to it, and we found a bottle brush and got in all the cracks and crevices until not a speck of dirt remained. Then we washed the outside with three different cleaners. Today I found a wood correction pen and filled in all of the scratches, and then we started waxing it. I’ll have it finished tomorrow. Waxing a piano takes a hell of a long time. But it is so radiant. The only problem is how to get it up the rather skinny, steep stairs of ours. I have no clue. It will happen, though.
I have been keeping busy in recent weeks by reading. In the past two and a half weeks I’ve read Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Burns, The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith, Every Touch Leaves a Trace by…somebody, The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hossini, The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, and The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho. I’m about to start The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. I haven’t read this much since I was in 10th grade. It is wonderful.
Miraculously, England has decided to finally settle into summer weather. I was working on the piano out in the garden and purposely wore a skirt so my white legs could get some sun on them. I think I only successfully managed to burn my shoulders, but let’s hope something came of it. I am so white that people stare. It’s slightly embarrassing to be stared at for my whiteness, particularly in Europe. I’ve been told that it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but I’m fairly positive I’m not getting stares of admiration on the high street.
Enough about my skin. I have not had any luck in the job department yet, but my CV is basically finished, so I can send that in to a few places and see what happens. It will be when it is meant to be. For now all I can do it try.
I’ve been pondering recently about love. You don’t really get taught about love, do you? No one explains it properly. They get poetic. Really all I want to know is how to tell if you’ve fallen in it, and what’s a good indication that staying in it is a wise decision. I’ve been in love before, but it felt different each time. Is there one kind of love? If not, is one kind true than another? Is your ‘true love’ the person that you feel a particular shade of love for? It’s so damn confusing. I’m rather happy where I am with it right now, but answers are always nice.
My dear sister Hannah graduated from high school on Friday. That was crazy sauce. She is a fantastic person. She will be a fantastic college student. She will be a fantastic artist. She will be a fantastic roommate to whoever is lucky enough to be there with her. She is the most wonderful sister in the entire world, out of anyone that has ever been a sister to a sibling. And I’m sure most of you would agree with that. I can sing her praises because I genuinely think this about her. There’s no pretending over here. I love you, banana :)
This entry is verging on two pages in a word document, so it’s past time to wrap up my thoughts. They are long and scattered. I think they’re interesting. In saying that, they are my thoughts. I might be a little partial to them.
Goodnight, world…
P.S. I would absolutely love to post pictures here, but my camera’s battery is drained and my charger is an American charger and I don’t have a converter. If anyone happens to have a spare American-to-British electric converter that I could have, I would love you forever. Then I’ll post pictures.
P.P.S. I rode on the back of my Dad's motorbike today. Words cannot describe how much I enjoyed it. If any of you were curious, his bike is a lime green Kawakai Ninja (at least I'm fairly sure it's Kawakai. It's Kawa-something). And I look fabulous in my leathers. Just for the record.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Post from England...the first of many (hopefully)
Hello world! I'm still alive and kicking!
A couple of you may, perhaps, be wondering what's going on with me. My flight to Heathrow was perfect. The only problem was this real creep of a man who sat next to me at the gate asking me all sorts of weird questions like what my star sign was, and whether my boyfriend was providing for me well--and then he quizzed me on my knowledge of classic British sitcoms and the politics of various oil companies. He told me he was in Iceland on doctor's orders because he had some nose condition and was allergic to British air.
What?!
So he creeped me out. But he didn't sit next to me on the plane, and I rushed through immigration and baggage claim on the other end so he wouldn't come talk to me again. And then I found my Daddy! And I was so, SO happy :)
So I've been here for about a week now. In that time I have been mostly sitting around, making phone calls, and going shopping. Also eating. Lots and lots of eating. The transition was a fairly easy one. England feels like home, so adjusting wasn't necessary. I did have a small bout of homesickness. I attribute it to staying up too late watching a sappy movie.
My goal for the next few weeks is to get some sort of employment. I think I might start teaching piano lessons again. I'm hoping to get a job as a teaching assistant at a primary school for the next school year. I would just love that job. I've found that I actually get on quite well with children in small doses. I am so looking forward to officially be settled down and living, having something to really put my energy into. I've been spending my time on crafts lately...I did make a pretty sweet mask today. Jealousy is allowed.
I don't have any other plans, really. Just getting a job and saving up money. But I'm happy with that. I do plan on travelling at some point (...when I have money again), but that can wait a while.
On my list of people I currently miss are the following:
--ALL OF YOU, subcategories of which are, in no particular order:
>Hannah, Mum, E&R
>My best friends (you know who you are)
>Greyson (also Danny and Craig....)
>Jamie & Jenna (also various other BYU ward members)
>Nerdfighters
>The rest of you :)
Particularly exciting things that have happened in the past week include finding out my great-grandfather was an arsonist who attempted to set fire to a post office, eating Turkish delight, buying an Andrew Lloyd Weber anthology, and sending in the form for a provisional driving license. I'll keep you posted if anything truly drastic happens...but for now it is good bye. Hopefully my next post will be a little more exciting than this one.
A couple of you may, perhaps, be wondering what's going on with me. My flight to Heathrow was perfect. The only problem was this real creep of a man who sat next to me at the gate asking me all sorts of weird questions like what my star sign was, and whether my boyfriend was providing for me well--and then he quizzed me on my knowledge of classic British sitcoms and the politics of various oil companies. He told me he was in Iceland on doctor's orders because he had some nose condition and was allergic to British air.
What?!
So he creeped me out. But he didn't sit next to me on the plane, and I rushed through immigration and baggage claim on the other end so he wouldn't come talk to me again. And then I found my Daddy! And I was so, SO happy :)
So I've been here for about a week now. In that time I have been mostly sitting around, making phone calls, and going shopping. Also eating. Lots and lots of eating. The transition was a fairly easy one. England feels like home, so adjusting wasn't necessary. I did have a small bout of homesickness. I attribute it to staying up too late watching a sappy movie.
My goal for the next few weeks is to get some sort of employment. I think I might start teaching piano lessons again. I'm hoping to get a job as a teaching assistant at a primary school for the next school year. I would just love that job. I've found that I actually get on quite well with children in small doses. I am so looking forward to officially be settled down and living, having something to really put my energy into. I've been spending my time on crafts lately...I did make a pretty sweet mask today. Jealousy is allowed.
I don't have any other plans, really. Just getting a job and saving up money. But I'm happy with that. I do plan on travelling at some point (...when I have money again), but that can wait a while.
On my list of people I currently miss are the following:
--ALL OF YOU, subcategories of which are, in no particular order:
>Hannah, Mum, E&R
>My best friends (you know who you are)
>Greyson (also Danny and Craig....)
>Jamie & Jenna (also various other BYU ward members)
>Nerdfighters
>The rest of you :)
Particularly exciting things that have happened in the past week include finding out my great-grandfather was an arsonist who attempted to set fire to a post office, eating Turkish delight, buying an Andrew Lloyd Weber anthology, and sending in the form for a provisional driving license. I'll keep you posted if anything truly drastic happens...but for now it is good bye. Hopefully my next post will be a little more exciting than this one.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
People and Why I LOVE Them...I'm talking about you.
Hey there everybody. It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about that. But my world is up and down and all over the place, so blogging really was the last thing on my mind. Do forgive me.
My freshman, and probably only, year of college will be over in a couple of days. Crazy. Sauce. Although I pretty much failed at every academic-related thing this semester at BYU, I would count it as a positive experience. Because of the people. All of the people. I don't know if you all know this, but I find people fascinating. How they behave, what they think, their experiences and stories, what they're afraid of, how they react to things, how they love. People. And every single one of us is different. And I cannot help loving everyone I meet. I don't know how or why I do that, but if I've ever met you I have most certainly been amazed by who you are.
You. Are. Amazing. Everything about you. The way you drink your coffee. How you approach an argument. How much you're willing to spend on a pair of jeans. Your secret favorite word. The one person you would do anything for, and the reason why. How you go outside and notice the sunrise. How you go outside and notice the traffic. The items you've lost and the memories you can't quite remember. What you dreamt last night. How you judge people. How you justify your actions. The number of times you trip over that pile of clothes on your floor before you clean them up. The person you would want your last words to be directed towards. And those are just a few things I've noted about a few people I've met or re-met in the last little while. Do you see now? How fascinating you are out of all the people on this crazy planet?
Now I feel like answering all of those things. So here it goes. I like to savor any drink in a mug. During an argument, I am more likely to adamantly state my opinion over and over rather than counteract the opposition. I would never spend more than $85 on jeans. My secret favorite word will have to remain a secret because it would probably be offensive to most of the people that read this blog. I would do absolutely anything for my sister Hannah because she is literally my favorite person on the planet, and she is the person I love the most. I love sunsets more than sunrises, but both are beautiful. I also like to sit at intersections and watch the cars go by late at night. I lost my favorite toy rabbit when I was about five, I've lost the sheet music for my favorite Debussy sonata, and I've lost a few rather special pairs of earrings. I can't remember what my Granddad Herbert looked like, I can't remember the last name of my elementary school crush, and I can't remember how to find the derivative of a function. Last night I dreamt I was living in England again. I try my hardest not to judge people, but simply understand them. I usually justify my actions by not thinking about the consequences. I don't have a pile of clothes on my floor right now, but i usually takes me about a week. I would want my last words to be for whoever I was in love with at the time. If I wasn't in love with anyone, then my Momma.
And there you go.
Things going on with me right now are finals, moving back home, eating Thai food for five days straight (YUM), learning to appreciate various new TV shows (Archer, anyone?), beginning to miss people I will never see again, beginning to love people I've just gotten to know, freaking out about money, and spending more time away from my apartment than in it.
I love you all. DFTBA.
My freshman, and probably only, year of college will be over in a couple of days. Crazy. Sauce. Although I pretty much failed at every academic-related thing this semester at BYU, I would count it as a positive experience. Because of the people. All of the people. I don't know if you all know this, but I find people fascinating. How they behave, what they think, their experiences and stories, what they're afraid of, how they react to things, how they love. People. And every single one of us is different. And I cannot help loving everyone I meet. I don't know how or why I do that, but if I've ever met you I have most certainly been amazed by who you are.
You. Are. Amazing. Everything about you. The way you drink your coffee. How you approach an argument. How much you're willing to spend on a pair of jeans. Your secret favorite word. The one person you would do anything for, and the reason why. How you go outside and notice the sunrise. How you go outside and notice the traffic. The items you've lost and the memories you can't quite remember. What you dreamt last night. How you judge people. How you justify your actions. The number of times you trip over that pile of clothes on your floor before you clean them up. The person you would want your last words to be directed towards. And those are just a few things I've noted about a few people I've met or re-met in the last little while. Do you see now? How fascinating you are out of all the people on this crazy planet?
Now I feel like answering all of those things. So here it goes. I like to savor any drink in a mug. During an argument, I am more likely to adamantly state my opinion over and over rather than counteract the opposition. I would never spend more than $85 on jeans. My secret favorite word will have to remain a secret because it would probably be offensive to most of the people that read this blog. I would do absolutely anything for my sister Hannah because she is literally my favorite person on the planet, and she is the person I love the most. I love sunsets more than sunrises, but both are beautiful. I also like to sit at intersections and watch the cars go by late at night. I lost my favorite toy rabbit when I was about five, I've lost the sheet music for my favorite Debussy sonata, and I've lost a few rather special pairs of earrings. I can't remember what my Granddad Herbert looked like, I can't remember the last name of my elementary school crush, and I can't remember how to find the derivative of a function. Last night I dreamt I was living in England again. I try my hardest not to judge people, but simply understand them. I usually justify my actions by not thinking about the consequences. I don't have a pile of clothes on my floor right now, but i usually takes me about a week. I would want my last words to be for whoever I was in love with at the time. If I wasn't in love with anyone, then my Momma.
And there you go.
Things going on with me right now are finals, moving back home, eating Thai food for five days straight (YUM), learning to appreciate various new TV shows (Archer, anyone?), beginning to miss people I will never see again, beginning to love people I've just gotten to know, freaking out about money, and spending more time away from my apartment than in it.
I love you all. DFTBA.
Monday, April 8, 2013
I'm bad at titles. This is a blog post. Read.
To start out, I feel like I have to talk about conference. GENERAL CONFERENCE WAS AMAZING. As usual. My favorite talk was Elder Holland's. If you are going to watch/listen to/read only one talk from conference, this is the one you want (and here's the link!). It was inspiring.
I put another video up on YouTube ...but I'm not going to share that link because I'm not sure if I want people to watch them. Weird? Yes. If you happen to find them then go right ahead. I don't know a jot nor tittle about video editing, so don't expect more than me talking for a few minutes to my webcam. Sweet.
The next three weeks of my life are going to be hell. Because school. It is my goal to not fail any classes. This will be a major accomplishment. It is achievable, but only if I magically revert back to being a stellar student. Faith and prayers, my friends. Faith and prayers. And a heck of a lot of hard work.
I went through all my finances yesterday and became sad. I am not self-sustainable. I could not live on my own. I still need help. One day. One day I will be able to officially declare myself an adult, dwell in a shoddy apartment, have a full time job. I will buy furniture. I will own a cat. Or possibly a rabbit. I will be obligated to initiate birthday phone calls and have people over for dinner. I will have a filing cabinet with compartments for electric bills, grocery receipts, and expired passports (I will ALWAYS have a current passport. Just in case.). I will have an extensive CD collection which will reveal my character to all who peruse through it. And I will hopefully be living in the country where I can legally vote. I am looking forward to all of this.
And now--to an archaeology paper I have been trying to write for three days! Whoop!
I put another video up on YouTube ...but I'm not going to share that link because I'm not sure if I want people to watch them. Weird? Yes. If you happen to find them then go right ahead. I don't know a jot nor tittle about video editing, so don't expect more than me talking for a few minutes to my webcam. Sweet.
The next three weeks of my life are going to be hell. Because school. It is my goal to not fail any classes. This will be a major accomplishment. It is achievable, but only if I magically revert back to being a stellar student. Faith and prayers, my friends. Faith and prayers. And a heck of a lot of hard work.
I went through all my finances yesterday and became sad. I am not self-sustainable. I could not live on my own. I still need help. One day. One day I will be able to officially declare myself an adult, dwell in a shoddy apartment, have a full time job. I will buy furniture. I will own a cat. Or possibly a rabbit. I will be obligated to initiate birthday phone calls and have people over for dinner. I will have a filing cabinet with compartments for electric bills, grocery receipts, and expired passports (I will ALWAYS have a current passport. Just in case.). I will have an extensive CD collection which will reveal my character to all who peruse through it. And I will hopefully be living in the country where I can legally vote. I am looking forward to all of this.
And now--to an archaeology paper I have been trying to write for three days! Whoop!
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Changing Me, Moving (Home? to England?), My Mum is Amazing--The Usual
I think the two worst emotions are lonely and confused. Especially when paired. I've had a few friends really try to bring me out of my state of loneliness and confusion recently. I'm not out of it yet. There are so many changes that I'm trying to sus out. It's strange, when I do something out of character I get very nervous. I have to evaluate myself again, figure out who I really am. I don't like to deal with myself. And this leads me to feel lonely and confused.
There is nothing scarier than change. Nothing. Unfortunately, there is a lot of change coming at me. Soon this semester will be over. I'll have my old job at Thanksgiving Point back. I'll be living at home, trying to create a niche in my family once more. I'm very worried about that. They've gotten used to me not being around, and I have changed so much since I lived at home. I wonder if I'm too different now, too different to fit in with them like I used to. I know I will try to change myself back. I don't want to stick out like a sore, unwanted thumb in my own family. It is a fact that there is no place I would rather be than home with my sisters and my parents.
I realized yesterday how much I need my mum. If I could be like anyone in all of time and space it would be her. She has an unbelievable amount of strength. She has so much faith. What she lacks in patience she makes up in love. I am in awe of her ability to govern her life. That might sound strange. But she can fulfill her calling, clean the house, give love and advice to her children, manage finances, monitor grades, coordinate transportation, attend various meetings, and manage to cook dinner. All in the same day. I don't tell her everything that goes on in my life, but when I need help I go to her. If I don't go to her, I do what I think she would do. It's like I've got my own "mum's advice" tape that plays in my head when I have to make a decision. I love her. I love her so much. I don't think she realizes how much I need her in my life. How much I rely on her. Look, I'm crying. That means I'm being sincere :)
Back to change. I was offered a place at my Dad's flat until the end of the year. The offer was so tempting. I know I'll move back to England one day. I know it. I just don't know when. I don't think this year is it. I'm having a lot of trouble with myself, figuring out how I want to live the rest of my life, what I believe in, what I really want. England would be too much right now. I wouldn't be strong over there. Happy, maybe. It would, perhaps, be easier. But I wouldn't be stronger. And I need strength right now more than anything. God usually chooses my trials for me, but I'm choosing this one. Let's hope it's the right decision. I miss my dad a lot.
Things that are going well right now? I made dinner yesterday. Sausages, mashed potatoes, and boiled cabbage. My favorite dinner in the world. That made me very, very happy :). Caden paid me a visit on Easter so I wouldn't be celebrating alone for the entire day, and that was just plain amazing. It's nice to be thought about like that. I went to a dance on Friday and enjoyed the entire thing (I plan on doing that again...Joe's, anyone?). Also, played pool and almost dominated. After the dance we got home and decided we wanted to watch a movie, so our wonderful hall-mates came over and we watched The Proposal. Chatted all night with a friend I haven't talked to in a while. 'Twas enlightening and a little....rebellious. Ha ha. The rain today was lovely. I've created a couple of new playlists on Spotify, and I am thoroughly loving "Ashamed? Never!"--songs from high school. Good times :).
I think I'll be off now. Pray for Mallory in the Philippines. Goodnight all!
There is nothing scarier than change. Nothing. Unfortunately, there is a lot of change coming at me. Soon this semester will be over. I'll have my old job at Thanksgiving Point back. I'll be living at home, trying to create a niche in my family once more. I'm very worried about that. They've gotten used to me not being around, and I have changed so much since I lived at home. I wonder if I'm too different now, too different to fit in with them like I used to. I know I will try to change myself back. I don't want to stick out like a sore, unwanted thumb in my own family. It is a fact that there is no place I would rather be than home with my sisters and my parents.
I realized yesterday how much I need my mum. If I could be like anyone in all of time and space it would be her. She has an unbelievable amount of strength. She has so much faith. What she lacks in patience she makes up in love. I am in awe of her ability to govern her life. That might sound strange. But she can fulfill her calling, clean the house, give love and advice to her children, manage finances, monitor grades, coordinate transportation, attend various meetings, and manage to cook dinner. All in the same day. I don't tell her everything that goes on in my life, but when I need help I go to her. If I don't go to her, I do what I think she would do. It's like I've got my own "mum's advice" tape that plays in my head when I have to make a decision. I love her. I love her so much. I don't think she realizes how much I need her in my life. How much I rely on her. Look, I'm crying. That means I'm being sincere :)
Back to change. I was offered a place at my Dad's flat until the end of the year. The offer was so tempting. I know I'll move back to England one day. I know it. I just don't know when. I don't think this year is it. I'm having a lot of trouble with myself, figuring out how I want to live the rest of my life, what I believe in, what I really want. England would be too much right now. I wouldn't be strong over there. Happy, maybe. It would, perhaps, be easier. But I wouldn't be stronger. And I need strength right now more than anything. God usually chooses my trials for me, but I'm choosing this one. Let's hope it's the right decision. I miss my dad a lot.
Things that are going well right now? I made dinner yesterday. Sausages, mashed potatoes, and boiled cabbage. My favorite dinner in the world. That made me very, very happy :). Caden paid me a visit on Easter so I wouldn't be celebrating alone for the entire day, and that was just plain amazing. It's nice to be thought about like that. I went to a dance on Friday and enjoyed the entire thing (I plan on doing that again...Joe's, anyone?). Also, played pool and almost dominated. After the dance we got home and decided we wanted to watch a movie, so our wonderful hall-mates came over and we watched The Proposal. Chatted all night with a friend I haven't talked to in a while. 'Twas enlightening and a little....rebellious. Ha ha. The rain today was lovely. I've created a couple of new playlists on Spotify, and I am thoroughly loving "Ashamed? Never!"--songs from high school. Good times :).
I think I'll be off now. Pray for Mallory in the Philippines. Goodnight all!
Monday, March 25, 2013
Lady Day and a Bucket of Heartbreak
At this moment in my life I think romantic love is really stupid. It makes me do ridiculous things. It makes me want ridiculous things. It makes me believe ridiculous things. And I'm rather tired of feeling it and being wrong. My Momma is a wise soul, and told me that love is a choice. She's right. I chose it. And now it won't go away--despite having good reason to.
Sing it, Lady Day.
I love this woman. She has the perfect song for EVERYTHING. If I could only listen to one musician for the rest of my life, it would be her.
Okay, I have to post this as well. Just sink into this one. Don't close your eyes. Watch each of them carefully. It's one of those rare recordings where you can experience the artist's emotions just by looking in their eyes and savoring each note. I can't explain it. It's just raw. Opening a soul and putting it out for everyone else to see--the pain, the blues, the heartache. Oh, gosh. I could live off of this stuff.
Sing it, Lady Day.
I love this woman. She has the perfect song for EVERYTHING. If I could only listen to one musician for the rest of my life, it would be her.
Okay, I have to post this as well. Just sink into this one. Don't close your eyes. Watch each of them carefully. It's one of those rare recordings where you can experience the artist's emotions just by looking in their eyes and savoring each note. I can't explain it. It's just raw. Opening a soul and putting it out for everyone else to see--the pain, the blues, the heartache. Oh, gosh. I could live off of this stuff.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
It's sensitive subject time.
It's sensitive subject time.
I think God loves everyone. God wants us to live devoid of prejudice, in full equality. God gives each person trials that test their willingness to obey Him, and are meant to increase the faith and ability of that person. I believe that God's commandments will never change, as he is an unchangeable being. I believe that there is only one way to true happiness.
Believing all of this, and I mean all of it, I have a lot of difficulty deciding how the Mormon doctrine on gays (that I have found) fits into these other beliefs.
To me, denying gays a legal marriage contract is unfair, unequal, and prejudice. However, I would also be offended and outraged if equality laws forced the church to allow gays a temple marriage.
I will be the first to acknowledge that sexual orientation is not a choice, but an integral part of who we are. I also believe that it is possible to repress this identity, and that being gay is part of the 'natural man' that we are commanded to overcome.
I have not seen any healthy, effective change that has caused a gay to become straight. But neither do I think that God gives anyone temptation above that he is able (1 Corinthians 10:13). This is a trial I do not fully understand. It appears to be impossible to overcome. It seems inhumane to expect someone to overcome it and then deny them blessings because of its impossible nature.
When it comes to telling other people who they may and may not love, who they may and may not be committed to, it just feels wrong. The only way I would be okay with that is if the exhibited love was fake, and did not bring real happiness. Again, I have a hard time believing that those in homosexual relationships who desire to be committed to each other are faking love. They have loving, caring relationships. Gay couples are also effective, sensitive parents. But, for some reason I don't understand, God does not accept that kind of love.
So, I don't understand how all of these things, which I truly believe, can coexist and fit together in my mind. I am very conflicted. I love and adore the friends and acquaintances I have that are gay. I love and adore those of them who are repressing those urges, who are acting on those urges, and who will struggle their entire lives with this trial. I love them. I want them to be happy. I believe that God knows each and every person who was, who is, and who will be gay. He knows how to deal with this impossible trial they have been blessed with.
I would encourage those who are having a difficult time being gay to turn to God and ignore the hate and ignorance of the rest of the world. This is your struggle. None of the rest of us truly understand it. You are good, good people. You need to know that. And I truly apologize if this post offended you in any way. It is simply what I believe, and I needed to write this so I could figure out exactly what I think on the subject.
This might solicit comments. I'm asking that you don't argue with me or each other, but I am more than happy to hear your views on the subject. It might help me figure out mine a little more.
Thanks, peeps.
I think God loves everyone. God wants us to live devoid of prejudice, in full equality. God gives each person trials that test their willingness to obey Him, and are meant to increase the faith and ability of that person. I believe that God's commandments will never change, as he is an unchangeable being. I believe that there is only one way to true happiness.
Believing all of this, and I mean all of it, I have a lot of difficulty deciding how the Mormon doctrine on gays (that I have found) fits into these other beliefs.
To me, denying gays a legal marriage contract is unfair, unequal, and prejudice. However, I would also be offended and outraged if equality laws forced the church to allow gays a temple marriage.
I will be the first to acknowledge that sexual orientation is not a choice, but an integral part of who we are. I also believe that it is possible to repress this identity, and that being gay is part of the 'natural man' that we are commanded to overcome.
I have not seen any healthy, effective change that has caused a gay to become straight. But neither do I think that God gives anyone temptation above that he is able (1 Corinthians 10:13). This is a trial I do not fully understand. It appears to be impossible to overcome. It seems inhumane to expect someone to overcome it and then deny them blessings because of its impossible nature.
When it comes to telling other people who they may and may not love, who they may and may not be committed to, it just feels wrong. The only way I would be okay with that is if the exhibited love was fake, and did not bring real happiness. Again, I have a hard time believing that those in homosexual relationships who desire to be committed to each other are faking love. They have loving, caring relationships. Gay couples are also effective, sensitive parents. But, for some reason I don't understand, God does not accept that kind of love.
So, I don't understand how all of these things, which I truly believe, can coexist and fit together in my mind. I am very conflicted. I love and adore the friends and acquaintances I have that are gay. I love and adore those of them who are repressing those urges, who are acting on those urges, and who will struggle their entire lives with this trial. I love them. I want them to be happy. I believe that God knows each and every person who was, who is, and who will be gay. He knows how to deal with this impossible trial they have been blessed with.
I would encourage those who are having a difficult time being gay to turn to God and ignore the hate and ignorance of the rest of the world. This is your struggle. None of the rest of us truly understand it. You are good, good people. You need to know that. And I truly apologize if this post offended you in any way. It is simply what I believe, and I needed to write this so I could figure out exactly what I think on the subject.
This might solicit comments. I'm asking that you don't argue with me or each other, but I am more than happy to hear your views on the subject. It might help me figure out mine a little more.
Thanks, peeps.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Creative title? I don't got one.
Hey there folks. I am not dead! Whoop! I survived today. I did almost get sick at therapy, but I survived. It turned out to be just fine. There is now another girl in the group, which was really nice. She barely talked at all. She must have been freaking out. But she came! And she's coming back next week! Hopefully we can be friends. I like friends.
I have to put in a plug for the band The Lumineers. They are amazing. I have been listening to their CD on repeat for the past couple of days. Here is one of their songs (Flowers in Your Hair) :
Pretty much amazing.
Aaaaand tomorrow is Friday. This week went by really, really fast. This has been a really strange week. I've been happy and sad and all over the place, wishing and wanting and failing and trying over and over and over. I'll do better next week. I do get to go home this weekend, though, and see my family. I think it's been a couple of months since I was last home 0.o I miss them after a while. Lots can happen in two months.
Today is the very last day of February. Tomorrow is March. And do you know what March means? MARCH MEANS ST. PATRICK'S DAY!!! MY FAVORITE HOLIDAY EVER!!!! *cough*
Sorry, I feel like I'm rambling and don't actually have anything to say. Y'alls are stellar. Bye.
I have to put in a plug for the band The Lumineers. They are amazing. I have been listening to their CD on repeat for the past couple of days. Here is one of their songs (Flowers in Your Hair) :
Pretty much amazing.
Aaaaand tomorrow is Friday. This week went by really, really fast. This has been a really strange week. I've been happy and sad and all over the place, wishing and wanting and failing and trying over and over and over. I'll do better next week. I do get to go home this weekend, though, and see my family. I think it's been a couple of months since I was last home 0.o I miss them after a while. Lots can happen in two months.
Today is the very last day of February. Tomorrow is March. And do you know what March means? MARCH MEANS ST. PATRICK'S DAY!!! MY FAVORITE HOLIDAY EVER!!!! *cough*
Sorry, I feel like I'm rambling and don't actually have anything to say. Y'alls are stellar. Bye.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
I'll Take Death By Velociraptor, Please
How do I feel about tomorrow and the coming week:
TERRIFIED
I am so scared. Therapy again tomorrow. Our task for the session is to write out the history of our problem and share it with the group. If I hadn't already committed to going every week I would chicken out of this one. I don't want to tell people! Heck, I don't like to think about it myself! What is said cannot be taken back, and they will judge me and I hate being judged. I like people to think that I am at least a half-way decent person. I'm not in real life, but it would be nice if people thought that. So. Talking about that with a bunch of men tomorrow.
Ha ha. That sounded super awkward. And I know I've not told you what my problem is, but, quite frankly, you don't need to know. And you don't want to either. I like that there are some people out there who think I'm nice.
On another sour note, I am doing so wretchedly in school it makes me want to vomit. I have a final for BoM next week, and even if I get 100% on it, I'll only get 84% in the class. Disgusting. I really, really hate myself sometimes. I need to cop on and do my flipping schoolwork, put forth the effort that is expected of a BYU student, and use my brain like I used to be able to. If I ever make it out of here alive, I darn well hope it was all worth it. And that I deserve it.
Life. Lifelifelifelifelife. Death by velociraptor sounds really good right about now. Or perhaps I could just turn into a velociraptor. The go straight to heaven, right? Sweet. Velociraptor it is.
I am trying to scrounge my brain for something happy to talk about. Um, the sun was shining today? That was nice. I ate lots of cookies. That was kind of happy. I'm listening to Death Cab for Cutie and remembering last summer. I listened to the "Plans" album while I drove to and from work at Thanksgiving Point. Gosh, that was so nice. Just being able to drive about with excellent music and the warmth from outside. Memories. I love the stuff. Right. That's about the happiest I can get right now.
Oh, and, Dean? This is me reciprocating. Because being mentioned in someone else's blog is pretty much the greatest thing ever. You have a fabulous morning/day/evening/night/whatever it is when you read this :)
Monday, February 25, 2013
Short Post
T'will be a short post.
Did you see my status about being hungry and tired? Well, I have the greatest roommate ever, because she generously donated minestrone soup and a slice of cake to the Feed Danie Foundation. THOSE ARE TWO OF MY FAVORITE FOODS. Jamie. Is. The. Greatest. And her mom makes fabulous soup.
Secondly, update on the best bunny on the face of the planet--she appears to be doing quite well :)
(This is my very first upload to youtube...whoot whoot! Thanks momma for the vid.)
Also, this was a really crappy weekend. Horribly so. It is my goal to make this week better than this weekend by going to class, doing my homework before netflix, and cancelling my netflix account like I should have a looong time ago.
I love you all!
Did you see my status about being hungry and tired? Well, I have the greatest roommate ever, because she generously donated minestrone soup and a slice of cake to the Feed Danie Foundation. THOSE ARE TWO OF MY FAVORITE FOODS. Jamie. Is. The. Greatest. And her mom makes fabulous soup.
Secondly, update on the best bunny on the face of the planet--she appears to be doing quite well :)
(This is my very first upload to youtube...whoot whoot! Thanks momma for the vid.)
Also, this was a really crappy weekend. Horribly so. It is my goal to make this week better than this weekend by going to class, doing my homework before netflix, and cancelling my netflix account like I should have a looong time ago.
I love you all!
Friday, February 22, 2013
Attending Class, Group Therapy, and Paralyzed Rabbits
So I was going to go to bed....and then I was going to do dishes....and then I was going to take a bath....and then I was going to stop eating chocolate covered caramels. But, looky here. I'm writing a blog post. Really late at night. 'Cause sometimes I do that.
I am rather proud of myself--if I go to both of my classes tomorrow, I will have gone to class every day this week. That will be a semester accomplishment. I know, I should be going to every class every single day, but it has been a real struggle this semester. Just counting the small victories over here, hoping one day I'll progress to some big ones.
I went to my first group therapy session today, and let me tell you, it was flippin' scary. Talking about my issues in a group full of people I don't know or trust? Freeeaaaaky. But it actually turned out to be a good thing, even though we were basically told that everything we were trying to do to combat our problems was no use, and they didn't bother to give us any solutions, just a lot of metaphors. Knowing that there are more people struggling with the same thing is helpful, I suppose. And they were nice people, too. A little strange, but who isn't? I know some people think that therapy is a really wussy way to dump your problems on someone else and avoid sorting them out yourself, but it takes an amazing amount of courage to go. I'm not joking. I almost made myself physically sick waiting for everyone else to turn up for the session (because, of course, I was so early I was the first to show up and got to sit there, anxiety-ridden, hoping I was in the right place). Anyway. Therapy. Good stuff.
In other news, the family rabbit became paralyzed after running into a rubbish bin. Poor Skippy. If you are morally opposed to praying for rabbits to get better, don't feel obligated to, but otherwise...it'd be great. She really is the best bunny ever. And I think I've dealt with all the death and unhappiness I can handle for one week.
I feel kind of bad, because this is just another post talking about my rather uninteresting life. And you were lovely enough to spend a few minutes of your own life reading it. Do I need to give you a profound thought so it's worth your while? Okay. Lemme find one. How about a poem?! Here it goes:
First Fig
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes and oh, my friends--
It gives a lovely light.
--Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)--
And interpret that as you wish! Goodnight to all!
I am rather proud of myself--if I go to both of my classes tomorrow, I will have gone to class every day this week. That will be a semester accomplishment. I know, I should be going to every class every single day, but it has been a real struggle this semester. Just counting the small victories over here, hoping one day I'll progress to some big ones.
I went to my first group therapy session today, and let me tell you, it was flippin' scary. Talking about my issues in a group full of people I don't know or trust? Freeeaaaaky. But it actually turned out to be a good thing, even though we were basically told that everything we were trying to do to combat our problems was no use, and they didn't bother to give us any solutions, just a lot of metaphors. Knowing that there are more people struggling with the same thing is helpful, I suppose. And they were nice people, too. A little strange, but who isn't? I know some people think that therapy is a really wussy way to dump your problems on someone else and avoid sorting them out yourself, but it takes an amazing amount of courage to go. I'm not joking. I almost made myself physically sick waiting for everyone else to turn up for the session (because, of course, I was so early I was the first to show up and got to sit there, anxiety-ridden, hoping I was in the right place). Anyway. Therapy. Good stuff.
In other news, the family rabbit became paralyzed after running into a rubbish bin. Poor Skippy. If you are morally opposed to praying for rabbits to get better, don't feel obligated to, but otherwise...it'd be great. She really is the best bunny ever. And I think I've dealt with all the death and unhappiness I can handle for one week.
I feel kind of bad, because this is just another post talking about my rather uninteresting life. And you were lovely enough to spend a few minutes of your own life reading it. Do I need to give you a profound thought so it's worth your while? Okay. Lemme find one. How about a poem?! Here it goes:
First Fig
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes and oh, my friends--
It gives a lovely light.
--Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)--
And interpret that as you wish! Goodnight to all!
Monday, February 18, 2013
This One's For Carmody
You died today, Carmody. You really did. Up and left us when I was so convinced you were going to get better. I feel like it was partially my fault. The bishopric asked us to fast for you, but I didn't. I forgot and I ate and I didn't try again. They asked us to go to the temple for you, but I can't go to the temple, Carmody. Not yet, not until I sort out all of my problems. The day before you went to the hospital I saw you crouched in the sunlight outside of our building. I asked you what was wrong. You said nothing, but you looked sad, so I double checked. Again you said you were fine. And that was the last conversation we had. I shouldn't have worried so much about catching the shuttle. I should have given you that hug I was debating whether or not to give you. If anyone deserved a hug it was you. I didn't even know you that well. We weren't best friends. But we were friends.
I was so naive. I was so, so sure that God would never take you back. But I know why he'd want his Carmody back. Your sweetness filled every crevice, every crack in a sad heart. Your kindness made us all feel safe and welcome. Your laughter was the medicine for every sickness. Perhaps the angels were getting lonely without you.
Do you want to know my favorite memory of you? It was that night that Jamie and I got locked into our apartment. Our door was always really stupid, but this time it just wouldn't open. You happened to be outside, so we called you over through the window and you climbed right in and had a go at it. It wouldn't budge, but we laughed and laughed and laughed like being stuck in an apartment was the funniest thing that ever happened to anyone. And then Mike came and tried it, and it still wouldn't move. Eventually we called the police, and they called the little Asian locksmith, who was sleeping at the time. You were there with us as we waited for her to show up with her toolkit and change out the doorknobs. You were there with us when we found that the door opened if we shifted it a certain way. You were there as we told and retold the story to each other, knowing full well that we'd already recounted it three times--but we were in hysterics. It was wonderful. A broken old door blessed us with a memory and a few laughs.
And now I'm sitting here in that same apartment, the door to my left and the window right in front of me. And where are you, Carmody? You're up there with all of those lonely angels, making them laugh. Mending their hearts. And you're down here somewhere, too, with all of these lonely angels. Mending our hearts, whispering to us that you're just a memory away. Be safe up there. Don't ever cry, because the other angels need your happiness. I know that you know how much we all love you, Carmody, and I'm sorry I didn't show how much I loved you while you were alive. But thank you for the cleaning checks and the building meetings and the laughter and the memories and the service and the love. You are wonderful :)
I was so naive. I was so, so sure that God would never take you back. But I know why he'd want his Carmody back. Your sweetness filled every crevice, every crack in a sad heart. Your kindness made us all feel safe and welcome. Your laughter was the medicine for every sickness. Perhaps the angels were getting lonely without you.
Do you want to know my favorite memory of you? It was that night that Jamie and I got locked into our apartment. Our door was always really stupid, but this time it just wouldn't open. You happened to be outside, so we called you over through the window and you climbed right in and had a go at it. It wouldn't budge, but we laughed and laughed and laughed like being stuck in an apartment was the funniest thing that ever happened to anyone. And then Mike came and tried it, and it still wouldn't move. Eventually we called the police, and they called the little Asian locksmith, who was sleeping at the time. You were there with us as we waited for her to show up with her toolkit and change out the doorknobs. You were there with us when we found that the door opened if we shifted it a certain way. You were there as we told and retold the story to each other, knowing full well that we'd already recounted it three times--but we were in hysterics. It was wonderful. A broken old door blessed us with a memory and a few laughs.
And now I'm sitting here in that same apartment, the door to my left and the window right in front of me. And where are you, Carmody? You're up there with all of those lonely angels, making them laugh. Mending their hearts. And you're down here somewhere, too, with all of these lonely angels. Mending our hearts, whispering to us that you're just a memory away. Be safe up there. Don't ever cry, because the other angels need your happiness. I know that you know how much we all love you, Carmody, and I'm sorry I didn't show how much I loved you while you were alive. But thank you for the cleaning checks and the building meetings and the laughter and the memories and the service and the love. You are wonderful :)
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
The Illusive California Problem
Yesterday in Mission Prep I started falling asleep. One of my ways to combat falling asleep in class is to write, whatever happens to come to mind. I found it interesting that I wrote about what I did. Here it is, slightly edited.
"I'm falling asleep, so I'm going to keep writing because it keeps me awake. One day I will do something great. Something astounding. Something for which I will be know by my grandchildren, and they will want to tell their friends all about me. 'My grandmother lived with the Himba when she was 19,' or, 'When I think of bravery, I think of my Nanny. She was her own person in the face of opposition.' As Helen Keller said, life is either a daring adventure or nothing.
"California was the adventure I wasn't crazy enough to do alone. I had it planned, every detail, and did not so much as consider asking permission. Adventure was never had with the approval of the opposition. Neither was greatness. And so I found my flight at one in the morning, after hours of looking, agonizing over the decision. But the agony turned into crazed excitement that wouldn't let up. I didn't go to sleep that night.
"I have always stayed inside the lines. I have always wanted to make other people happy. But this time I didn't care. I didn't care about a degree. What worth was a piece of paper? To which fate would I resign myself with the pursuit of knowledge? I would get a low paying job, pining after a man to save me. How did I get in this hole? I would ask. My time and effort and tears put to use for money to settle down, buy a house, set up a retirement fund. My youth spent slaving toward a distant life that was, perhaps, worth living. Because that's what we do. That's what would make my family, society, proud. They would have me believe God found only acceptable a life in a house in the suburbs, depending on a husband, being able to provide for myself if he ever left me.
"Stability. Because that is how it is done.
"I. Am. Tired. Of. Stability. Never have I ever been stable. Not my life. Not my mind. Not my feelings. I want bravery. I want craziness. I want everything to fall apart and to pull me through the cracks so I can, for once, see myself for who I am. We only truly see ourselves when we are full of cracks and are throwing little pieces of ourselves out to the world. They may do with me as they wish.
"And running away from school and my mother and my friends was how I wanted to fall apart. California was where it would happen. The unbearable freedom of the planning and the running and the journey would eat me up, and I would welcome it with my entire being. It wasn't stable. It was insane. For the first time in my life, insane was achievable. Insane was all I wanted, all that mattered.
"I don't think I was ever meant to be a normal one. Perhaps I am going to settle down and have a family, a backup career, participating in PTA and obeying a husband--but I will never be happy with any of that until I have had my great adventure. It is not me, not yet. I was created to be pulled from my limbs, to be thrown into the eyes and mouths of those who know me. I will pursue my California until I am so full of cracks I become invisible. After that I will choose to be stable, to put back the assured smiles on all of your faces, because I'll know what it's like to be nothing but cracks."
Maybe I'm right. Maybe I'm wrong. Either way, those were my thoughts.
"I'm falling asleep, so I'm going to keep writing because it keeps me awake. One day I will do something great. Something astounding. Something for which I will be know by my grandchildren, and they will want to tell their friends all about me. 'My grandmother lived with the Himba when she was 19,' or, 'When I think of bravery, I think of my Nanny. She was her own person in the face of opposition.' As Helen Keller said, life is either a daring adventure or nothing.
"California was the adventure I wasn't crazy enough to do alone. I had it planned, every detail, and did not so much as consider asking permission. Adventure was never had with the approval of the opposition. Neither was greatness. And so I found my flight at one in the morning, after hours of looking, agonizing over the decision. But the agony turned into crazed excitement that wouldn't let up. I didn't go to sleep that night.
"I have always stayed inside the lines. I have always wanted to make other people happy. But this time I didn't care. I didn't care about a degree. What worth was a piece of paper? To which fate would I resign myself with the pursuit of knowledge? I would get a low paying job, pining after a man to save me. How did I get in this hole? I would ask. My time and effort and tears put to use for money to settle down, buy a house, set up a retirement fund. My youth spent slaving toward a distant life that was, perhaps, worth living. Because that's what we do. That's what would make my family, society, proud. They would have me believe God found only acceptable a life in a house in the suburbs, depending on a husband, being able to provide for myself if he ever left me.
"Stability. Because that is how it is done.
"I. Am. Tired. Of. Stability. Never have I ever been stable. Not my life. Not my mind. Not my feelings. I want bravery. I want craziness. I want everything to fall apart and to pull me through the cracks so I can, for once, see myself for who I am. We only truly see ourselves when we are full of cracks and are throwing little pieces of ourselves out to the world. They may do with me as they wish.
"And running away from school and my mother and my friends was how I wanted to fall apart. California was where it would happen. The unbearable freedom of the planning and the running and the journey would eat me up, and I would welcome it with my entire being. It wasn't stable. It was insane. For the first time in my life, insane was achievable. Insane was all I wanted, all that mattered.
"I don't think I was ever meant to be a normal one. Perhaps I am going to settle down and have a family, a backup career, participating in PTA and obeying a husband--but I will never be happy with any of that until I have had my great adventure. It is not me, not yet. I was created to be pulled from my limbs, to be thrown into the eyes and mouths of those who know me. I will pursue my California until I am so full of cracks I become invisible. After that I will choose to be stable, to put back the assured smiles on all of your faces, because I'll know what it's like to be nothing but cracks."
Maybe I'm right. Maybe I'm wrong. Either way, those were my thoughts.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Failing Positively :)
Today I decided I was going to turn my life around! I woke up and thought, today will be the day! The first step towards a life of responsibility and self-control!
Well, I failed.
He he.
But I did make a valiant effort. And I got a good nap in. And a good laugh. And a good hug. What made it not such a failure is that I believe that I can do better tomorrow. Also, I had the most wonderful people to share it with. I am surrounded by wonderful people, and I am grateful for all of them.
At EFY a couple of years ago one of the counselors gave a quote by President Gordon B. Hinckley about the importance of goal setting and honestly evaluating your progress. What struck me about it was he said that admitting to failure is better than trying to ignore it because you are more motivated to change. Failure is also progress if view with an eye of improvement. So, I failed today. I didn't do everything I wanted to. It was different from what I was expecting and wishing. But tomorrow is open for success! Tomorrow can be better, if only slightly! Progress is progress!
So, tomorrow I will wake up and yet again announce to Jamie that this is the day I change my life! I will be more responsible and motivated to be a better person! And I will do the things that ensure such a change!
And if things go contrary to plan, I fail yet again. But I ain't going to give up. Not this time.
Well, I failed.
He he.
But I did make a valiant effort. And I got a good nap in. And a good laugh. And a good hug. What made it not such a failure is that I believe that I can do better tomorrow. Also, I had the most wonderful people to share it with. I am surrounded by wonderful people, and I am grateful for all of them.
At EFY a couple of years ago one of the counselors gave a quote by President Gordon B. Hinckley about the importance of goal setting and honestly evaluating your progress. What struck me about it was he said that admitting to failure is better than trying to ignore it because you are more motivated to change. Failure is also progress if view with an eye of improvement. So, I failed today. I didn't do everything I wanted to. It was different from what I was expecting and wishing. But tomorrow is open for success! Tomorrow can be better, if only slightly! Progress is progress!
So, tomorrow I will wake up and yet again announce to Jamie that this is the day I change my life! I will be more responsible and motivated to be a better person! And I will do the things that ensure such a change!
And if things go contrary to plan, I fail yet again. But I ain't going to give up. Not this time.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Late-Night-Personal-Dance-Party-On-The-Couch Playlist
Okay. I'm up. And really tired. And listening to sweet music while attempting to write a paper about some crackpot who thinks the Sphinx was built before the desert was desert. I just really want to go to bed. But I'm not going to! I'm going to put some of my dancing music here! And some of these songs are really odd--that's okay! Just go with it!
Our House; Madness
Come On Eileen; Dexy's Midnight Runners
Ruby; Kaiser Chiefs
Tightrope; Janelle Monae
Guns and Horses; Ellie Goulding
I Turn To You (Hex Hector Remix); Melanie C
Our House; Madness
Come On Eileen; Dexy's Midnight Runners
Bulletproof; La Roux
Ruby; Kaiser Chiefs
Tightrope; Janelle Monae
Guns and Horses; Ellie Goulding
I Turn To You (Hex Hector Remix); Melanie C
Heartbreak Make Me A Dancer; Sophie Ellis-Bextor
Good stuff. I love music. A lot more than I like writing papers, that's for sure. He he. I'll go back to my homework now. Have a wonderful day!
Thursday, January 24, 2013
I just liked this...
I came across this video, and I'd never seen anything like it before. It's a poem, and it's beautiful.
And I just found this one as well. It features the poem "I Carry You In My Heart" by e. e. cummings, which is my second favorite poem in the world.
And I just found this one as well. It features the poem "I Carry You In My Heart" by e. e. cummings, which is my second favorite poem in the world.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
In which I dare you to be happy
This is my homework break, which is highly necessary because I am actually, by some miracle, doing my homework. Most of it is reading, but that gets rather tiring. Though I would much rather be reading than writing papers.
Anyway, I'm really happy right now. Very, very happy. Something quite traumatic would have to happen to make this smile of mine go away. And while some might consider the reason for my smile to be unwise, and, in light of other recent events, rather stupid, I am choosing not to listen. Because I think I will take all the happiness I can get right about now, if that's okay with everyone. Not the fake stuff that disappears after a short while (usually brought on by food....or chick flicks...or a combination of the two...), but real happiness. The kind that comes from caring about someone and having them care for you right back. Everyone deserves that. I think I'm lucky to have found it right when I really needed it.
Happy me :)
Also, for the record, other things that make me happy are:
1) Reading something that's just really good, the stuff that has me sitting there thinking, "Wow. That was amazing. So well written, so applicable. Genius literature."
2) Having an excellent conversation with friends in which problems are cleared up, camaraderie is felt, and we all get a good laugh in somewhere.
3) A full English breakfast (with black pudding and fried tomatoes). Serious lasting happiness there.
4) Having a favorite song come on the radio right when I needed to hear it.
5) Finding out I have lots in common with the person I'm sitting next to on the bus.
6) Happy babies.
7) Rain and jumping in puddles without a care in the world.
8) Reading scriptures and understanding something with clarity
9) Receiving flowers for no reason at all.
10) Getting a prompting to do something and following through.
And a number of other things. But these are good. Try one out and get back to me. Ooh! I dare you! Do something that brings you real happiness and comment about it. I'll mail you an invisible hug if you do. Good luck :)
Monday, January 21, 2013
And then I stumbled across inspiration...
So, I was reading my scriptures this morning and came across a story that gave me a little hope. Helaman is recounting the story of the 2,000 young men that volunteer to fight so their parents refrain from breaking their covenant to never again take up arms. This is the part I really liked (Alma 56):
"15...and I found Antipus and his men toiling with their might to fortify the city.
16. Yea, and they were depressed in body as well as in spirit, for they had fought valiantly by day and toiled by night to maintain their cities; and thus they had suffered great afflictions of every kind.
17. And now they were determined to conquer in this place or die; therefore you may well suppose that this little force which I brought with me, yea, those sons of mine, gave them great hopes and much joy.
18. And now it came to pass that when the Lamanites saw that Antipus had recieved a greater strength to his army, they were compelled by the orders of Ammoron to not come against the city of Judea, or against us, to battle.
19. And thus were we favored of the Lord; for had they come upon us in this our weaknesss they might have perhaps destroyed our little army; but thus were we preserved."
(In case you're not familiar with the Book of Mormon, Antipus is one of the leaders of the good guy army (the Nephites), and Ammoron is one of the leaders of the bad guy army (the Lamanites))
I think it is rare to find a faithful person described as "...depressed in body as well as in spirit..." in the scriptures, but it happens very often in life. I get that way when I'm trying to overcome certain problems that I have, when it feels like I have tried over and over and over and over to never do it again, but I'm never strong enough to conquer it. I love the attitude of Antipus's men here that "...they were determined to conquer in this place or die...", and that's how it should be when you're trying to overcome a sin that is holding you back so much you feel you have no hope. Once you are willing to do whatever it takes to overcome sin, the Lord will send you the strength you need and the enemy will retreat. He's not going to just send help because you're in a bad place--he's going to send you help when you have done everything you can to sort yourself out.
Anyway. I thought this was pretty brilliant.
"15...and I found Antipus and his men toiling with their might to fortify the city.
16. Yea, and they were depressed in body as well as in spirit, for they had fought valiantly by day and toiled by night to maintain their cities; and thus they had suffered great afflictions of every kind.
17. And now they were determined to conquer in this place or die; therefore you may well suppose that this little force which I brought with me, yea, those sons of mine, gave them great hopes and much joy.
18. And now it came to pass that when the Lamanites saw that Antipus had recieved a greater strength to his army, they were compelled by the orders of Ammoron to not come against the city of Judea, or against us, to battle.
19. And thus were we favored of the Lord; for had they come upon us in this our weaknesss they might have perhaps destroyed our little army; but thus were we preserved."
(In case you're not familiar with the Book of Mormon, Antipus is one of the leaders of the good guy army (the Nephites), and Ammoron is one of the leaders of the bad guy army (the Lamanites))
I think it is rare to find a faithful person described as "...depressed in body as well as in spirit..." in the scriptures, but it happens very often in life. I get that way when I'm trying to overcome certain problems that I have, when it feels like I have tried over and over and over and over to never do it again, but I'm never strong enough to conquer it. I love the attitude of Antipus's men here that "...they were determined to conquer in this place or die...", and that's how it should be when you're trying to overcome a sin that is holding you back so much you feel you have no hope. Once you are willing to do whatever it takes to overcome sin, the Lord will send you the strength you need and the enemy will retreat. He's not going to just send help because you're in a bad place--he's going to send you help when you have done everything you can to sort yourself out.
Anyway. I thought this was pretty brilliant.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Sunday Morning Thoughts
I'm here in my apartment, quite alone, quite hungry, but somehow quite content. It's a strange thing, to be content but not happy. I think it's simply the effect of a Sunday. It is a calm day. It's a good day, if you let it be.
Anyway, continuing the music trend, here are some of my favorite pieces of religious music. Enjoy :)
I Am His Daughter; EFY Music
Anyway, continuing the music trend, here are some of my favorite pieces of religious music. Enjoy :)
I Am His Daughter; EFY Music
The Morning Trumpet; MoTab
What Faith Can Do; EFY Music
Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing; MoTab
Bring Him Home; Les Miserables (Alfie Boe and MoTab)
(I know, it's not technically religious, but it might as well be)
If You Could Hie To Kolob; MoTab
He Knows Me Better; EFY Music
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
What I wouldn't give for a flight right about now...
I am going insane. I need to fly. I need to pack up, put all my liquids and gels in a quart-sized plastic bag, be harassed at customs, eat unidentifiable meals the flight attendants call chicken on rice, and smell me some British air. I know it's not wise and it won't happen, but I need to take a weekend off and go somewhere that I love. I love everything about England. Shopping in town. Cigarette smoke. Fish and chips. Tescos. Roundabouts. The rain. The seaside. Tiny streets. Sweet shops. The crazy people. My family. I miss it all. I miss my home. I know if you're there right now, living a grown-up life, you're thinking that I only like it because it's a holiday whenever I go. You're right, I've never really worked there or experienced England in everyday life. But it's still my home. It's still my favorite place in the world. I've still got Daddy and Nanny and my cousins and my aunts and uncles who are there. I want to go. I just want to go home, if only to get away from all the craziness here.
Sigh.
Sigh.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Music Installment II
And here's some more music. Love the stuff.
Black and Gold; Sam Sparro
The Other Side; David Gray
Black and Gold; Sam Sparro
Ordinary World; Duran Duran
Too Close; Alex Clare
Feel So Close; Calvin Harris
The Other Side; David Gray
(See Also: Babylon, Be Mine, You're the World to Me, Please Forgive Me, and Silver Lining)
Next To Me; Emeli Sande
(See Also: Heaven)
Grace Kelly; Mika
The funny thing about making a favorites list is you keep coming up with songs. I'm thoroughly enjoying this, so I'll post more tomorrow :)
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