"Slow dancing in a burning room."

(The following post is a message left unsent. It seems as though that I am always the one to end things, and because of which, am always the one regretting doing so. In every circumstance, the first one to walk away is me... however, this was the exception. I write this to simply put into words what I could never say... not now, at least.)

I don’t like putting down a book. Never have. I mean, if I start reading something, if I purposely invest time in it, I want to see how it ends (even if it does suck.) Actually, I think that I’ve only put down one book in my life. “Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter.” Now that book was pretty good, but I had to stop reading it; it gave me nightmares. I guess sometimes you have to stop something good cuzz it hurts you in the long run…

Having said all this, I feel like you’ve checked-out. I don’t know why this surprises me, actually. Everyone always does.

I think the surprising aspect of it is “why.” I don’t feel that I did anything wrong. I sincerely wanted to get to know you, understand you. And I enjoyed the challenge. You made me laugh; our conversations were actually meaningful. Our friendship was easy, like breathing. Just came naturally, I guess.

And then, for whatever reason, you became a dickwad.

Whenever I do put down a book, I always read the last page before doing so. I guess I just like knowing how it ends even if I didn't make it through the middle. Consider this our “last page.” The first couple of chapters were fun… but “sometimes, you have to stop something good cuzz it hurts (too much) in the long run.”

"Just one of those days."

Hello, dear reader.

I woke-up pissed this morning. I was having a dream in which Sarah Palin wanted someone to shoot a raccoon for her, and I guess I wasn't having it.

It sucks that it is so closed to Christmas and I am in the worst mood ever. I just want to talk to someone, but it seems as though none of my friends have any drama in their lives whatsoever, leaving me unsympathizable. Not only that, I don't want to be a Debbie Downer. Who am I to ruin any one's good mood?

Honestly, I really only want to talk to one person... **sigh**

I'm not looking forward to Christmas this year. I mean, I'm looking forward to giving presents--I went all out this year!--but just the "getting together" part is gonna suck. Awkward. Utterly awkward. And depressing.

Things have never been the same since Granny D died. She was the staple that held my mom's side of the family together. Is it bad to miss someone for selfish reasons? I miss her because she was an amazing woman of God, who raised 13 kids without a formal education, and who managed to go to church whenever the doors were open... But I also miss her because of the holidays spent in her tiny trailer. Thanksgivings, and Christmases, and Easters. Everyone would gather at her little single-wide, people overflowing onto the patio... and somehow we always made it work.

And now what? We don't have get-togethers, and if we do, they're always a shadow-self of what they once were. A blurred representation of images long-passed, never to be seen again through clear lenses.

I miss the individuals who have changed since her passing. Is it possible to grieve for someone who isn't dead? Christmas should be interesting this year. And you, my dear reader, will hear all about it if, for nothing else, my own sanity.

"Well, that's new"

Oh, wasting time.

Today was nothing but a lazy day. I slept in--and by that, I mean 8:00am--cleaned house, and waited on the cable guy to show-up. I have TV now! And get this, I have it in my bedroom too! Excited? Yes... Yes, I am.

I came over to my g-parent's house tonight to scold my grandfather for not making an appearance today; he was supposed to come over after the cable guy left. Anywho, when he didn't show-up, I came over here and we got to watching Nature on NPT. The show was like, "Christmas in Yosemite" or something like that. It had this photographer skiing across the countryside, and my grandfather had me CRACKING UP, talking about his chilling military experience(s) while stationed in Alaska. Oh my goodness--I PRAY that when I die and get to Heaven, God lets me go back in time and watch history unfold itself.

Papa said that there was this one time when he and his platoon (???) had to sleep outside above the tundra line. Said that he made the "awful mistake" of zipping-up his sub-zero sleeping bag to where he only had one little peep hole to breathe out of. (By this point in the story, I'm already laughing cuzz... Well, my Papa is the BEST story teller.) Said something like, "And I tell you what--I must have rolled over in the middle of the night and I'll be danged if I didn't lose that little hole, and I began to panic, a-tossing and a-turning. I finally got two arms out," and he began to reinact the scene here, "and I pulled that sleeping bag apart, and I'll tell you what--I never made that mistake again."

I about DIED. Granted that now that you have read this, it doesn't appear half as funny, but to me--oh my goodness, I was rolling.

It's stories like these that I wish I hear more of. I can't get enough of them. Yes, at times, they can drag on, and yes, there are times when he repeats himself--but they are WORTH IT... Aaaand that's all I've got for the night. =)

"The Walking Wounded"

I don't claim to know love any more than I claim to know nuclear physics. I’ve never been in love, so to give advice on such would be asking too much of me.

To better explain my loveless situation, one would only have to watch, “The Holiday.” In it is a girl named Iris. I don’t think a character has ever existed with whom I can relate as much as her. She’s gorgeous (thank you) and she loves a guy who doesn’t love her back—of this, I am all too familiar.

Unrequited love. Yep, that’s all me. To love someone who doesn’t love you back—has my name written all over it.

I don’t understand true love, and not understanding leaves me with the inability to sympathize.

Unrequited love, though. To give advice on THAT is simple—move on. Date other people. Live your life. There a BILLION people in this world; surely you can find ONE to make you happy.

But to CONTINUE to pursue someone even when you KNOW they don’t love you… Makes no sense. Absolutely no sense.

It must be hard for those individuals who wake-up one morning only to find that their "true love" doesn't return the favor. To spend the majority of your life with someone and to sudden have the realization that the rest of your life won’t have them in it—yeah, I guess that might be a little difficult to cope with.

I’ve never been in love, so I can't really give advice on it. But, I do know unrequited love, and the best thing I can say is this: move on, be free, and live your life. After all, you came into this world alone--you'll leave it the same way.

"Sounds about right."

Man oh man, productive day at work! Wish I had pictures to post... eh, they'll come eventually.

My grandmother's watching "Jeopardy!" in the other room, and the current category is "literature." I am OWNING it. You know, being a Literature major only comes in handy when you're either: 1. Around other English majors, or 2. Watching games shows. One can't really talk about literary stuff in a casual conversation without sounding condescending.

I had one of my guy friends (who just happen to graduate with the same degree) over a couple of weeks ago, and we spent a good hour and a half on my front porch discussing transcedentalism and the effects it had on "empirical religion" (and if there was such a thing.) Oh, how I miss college.

You know, I was thinking today--I don't really have any goals, and the goals I do have don't depend on me.

For example, I want to be a Godly wife and mother. And that's pretty much it. I mean, I want to be some sort of missionary (either in the US or internationally,) but I don't want to start traveling until I find a husband. I tried doing the whole Paraguay thing, but that just ended in anxiety attacks. I want to have a man beside me, a man whom I love, if something like that were to happen again--not some annoying chic who, when asked by a flight attendant if I was OK after I lost conciousness and began having seizures over Argentina, said, "Oh yeah, she's fine. Can I have a Coke?"

I hate that girl... and her sister...

Anyway--goals. Yeah, my goals aren't ones that can be attained by myself. They need Divine Intervention, literally. However, I feel as though God is preparing me for such. He works on me daily, giving me patience and strength, and even when it SUCKS being single--and oh, does it!--I know that one of these days, He's gonna bring a man into my life, and it's gonna be AMAZING. **sigh**

I can't wait. =)

"Put that in your book."

Despite popular belief, I am a writer, that is to say, I have the ability to do so.

This should be interesting.

Blogging is not new to me. Like I have stated in a previous Facebook note, I used to blog all the time. I used to document the daily happenings of high school life, and even some of my home-life sparcely thrown in. Humility was expressed in the majority of my blogs... Candid humility. And that's exactly what I plan this blog to be--a lot of frankness.

For some reason, I feel a lot of hesistancy upon beginning this new adventure. I remember being a lot more open in my old blogs than what I plan to be in this one.. or rather, what I planned to be. I didn't care who saw them. Actually, I encouraged such intrusiveness. I wanted people to read them, comment on them, tell their friends about them. Now... it's almost as if I want to talk about so many things, but feel that I shouldn't do so. What if I say something that I shouldn't say? What if people find out something they don't like? something that they don't agree with? something about my past I want left undiscovered? I guess I feel almost embarrassed for having ever started this, for the simple fact that you, my dear reader, expect openness and, above all, honesty.

I feel torn.

People are cheated every day. "Innocent" individuals become cynical because years of lies and half-truths leave them with no other option. I don't want this blog to do that. I want this blog to be, if nothing else, a way to relate to a world that I can't see. I want to have a voice; be a voice; be heard.  

So, if a question is asked, I will answer it. And you, my dear reader, can rest assure that my answer will be honest, met with vigor and unbiased sincerity.

Again, this should be interesting... We'll see how this plays out...