What should I have done? Plenty of things, if you look back at the child-like scribble that is my life.
Recently, I was driving home, thinking, "I should have just done it." Why didn't I?
I'm in my car, letting it warm up and searching for a good song, maybe even a new CD, because I'm old school like that. My friends are leaving one by one. It's been a good night of beers and ridiculousness, but it's time to head home for sleep.
I'm one of the last in the parking lot, my Bimmer squeaking from the pulley that needs replacing and surging slightly from who knows what. Just another thing to fix, all in good time. I'm about to shift into reverse, foot on the clutch, when I see a car pull up next to me. I know whose it is, even through the rain hitting the glass. I smile a little bit and roll down my window. He smiles at me and we start talking through the rainy gap between our cars.
"What's wrong with your car?"
"Oh, plenty. It still drives pretty well, though, so I'm not complaining. She's a good little car."
He chuckles at me, "It sounds like it needs a new pulley."
I laugh and we continue talking, about cars, about relationships, about, well, dumb things that we get ourselves into. About life. We both know it might be awhile before we get to hang out again. We've always gotten on really well. And gotten ourselves into a few dumb situations together. But our friendship has always been easy and free, no drama and no strings--we always knew we could have a good, sometimes reckless, time together. That's just how we're both made. Free and reckless, charging through life sideways and upside-down.
"Well, I should probably go. I have to be up for work in a few hours."
"Yeah, I should go home. I have to work tomorrow, too." We roll up our windows, I turn up my music enough to cause deafness, and as I am pulling into reverse, I almost run him over. He's gotten out of his truck and is standing next to my window. I roll it down, laughing and telling him he shouldn't do shit like that, I might kill him. He does his chuckle, and leans through the window to hug me. As he backs out, he leans in and pecks me quick and soft on the lips, which makes me involuntarily smile. Brings me back to daisies in my hair, Santana records and a bottle of some of my favorite beer waiting for me in the front seat. Then he hops back to his car, saying that he really should go, since he's already in trouble and doesn't want to get his ass handed to him.
Which, if anyone else had seen what was actually going on, would know that he deserved.
I smile to myself, thinking that I shouldn't be smiling, and pull out of the parking lot. Driving through town, all of the synapses in my brain are firing at me, screaming that I should have gotten out of the car. Should have grabbed him. I of course know that I made the right decision to leave the parking lot, but I still have a stupid little smirk on my face.
And even now, even still, I feel like it's still what I should have done. Why? I don't know. Why didn't I? Because nothing good comes from being a hand in the destruction of a settled life.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Monday, December 17, 2012
The Run
Holy shit.
I went for my first run in five months due to injuries on both of my feet.
It was awful. Painful. My butt jiggled in a way I wasn't quite prepared for....oh yeah. That happened. It was weird, but I got over it.
But what I actually hated: going from 12 miles a night to 1.5 miles, lungs burning; hips, legs and ankles awkward and wobbly.
So I guess this is square one again. It's kind of appropriate though, isn't it? Finally get through all the ridiculous nonsense that is the educational system and change my major again and now I'm moving and starting from square one.
Well, I suppose you have to back track sometimes.
Life is a marathon.
And I refuse to buy new pants. Seriously? $50 for a pair of jeans? Pshaw, come off it.
I went for my first run in five months due to injuries on both of my feet.
It was awful. Painful. My butt jiggled in a way I wasn't quite prepared for....oh yeah. That happened. It was weird, but I got over it.
But what I actually hated: going from 12 miles a night to 1.5 miles, lungs burning; hips, legs and ankles awkward and wobbly.
So I guess this is square one again. It's kind of appropriate though, isn't it? Finally get through all the ridiculous nonsense that is the educational system and change my major again and now I'm moving and starting from square one.
Well, I suppose you have to back track sometimes.
Life is a marathon.
And I refuse to buy new pants. Seriously? $50 for a pair of jeans? Pshaw, come off it.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Things...
Things That Seriously Bother Me:
1. Jewelry commercials. You are gross and sappy and superficial and gaudy and ultimately disappointing because most of the jewelry you peddle isn't that pretty. Even your rhymes are lame. Every kiss begins with Kay? No, every kiss begins with some dude doing something so stupid that the lady can't help but laugh her ass off. And half of the time there's maybe booze involved....but that's not my point! Are you trying to tell me that a guy has to buy me some ridiculous diamond ring (which I don't even like) to show me that he loves me? You do nothing but perpetuate the idea that you have to buy women things. And you perpetuate the idea that men should buy expensive things for women, like they should expect that. I hate you. You are full of lies and subliminal messages, ruining all the of the good guys that could be out there, who are happy with hanging out and drinking beer. Then you go and put some big idea in their head that they have to go out and buy expensive things for the woman in their life that will make them happy for a day, when he could be finding out something meaningful about that woman, that will make her happy for a lifetime. AND you shoot the idea in the woman's head that she needs these things, needs her man to buy her these things, to make her happy. Well, screw you. I want a guy that will accept that sometimes I drink beer for dinner and listen to Zeppelin playlists on autoplay and wear sweatpants all day. Not buy me an ugly ring. Why? Why would you ruin this for me, and even other men in the world who want to have man friends and man caves? Not men-who-turned-into-women friends and caves with feelings. And no, this is not some rant because I somewhere, deep down inside, want some expensive jewelry. No, I legitimately don't like these commercials and this is legitimately why. And probably why I have an aversion to jewelry stores themselves.
2. Weddings. Fuck you, I'm eloping.
Things That I Like To Do:
1. Drink on a Monday. OKAY?! I LIKE TO DRINK ON WEEKDAYS!! Sometimes I can't wait until the weekend. Because sometimes, there are still two beers left in the fridge or the last fourth of a bottle of champagne and I mean, come on...you can't let the last fourth of a bottle hang around until the weekend.
2. Um....take a shot for every homework assignment I've finished. Anyone want to be my study buddy? Let's just move on, shall we?
3. Meerkat onesie. Paint my toenails. Drink coffee. Dinosaur onesie. I might be finishing a bottle of booze right now...what? No. What? Next number!
Things That Should Go On Pizza:
1. Oregano. Yes. In marinara sauce.
2. Mozarella and Monterey Jack cheeses. Maybe Parmesan. But yes, mozo and monterey. Please.
3. Olives. Green peppers. Peperoncinis. Red onions. Bacon. Tomatoes.
Um, yeah. Things.
I'd like some more pizza, please.
1. Jewelry commercials. You are gross and sappy and superficial and gaudy and ultimately disappointing because most of the jewelry you peddle isn't that pretty. Even your rhymes are lame. Every kiss begins with Kay? No, every kiss begins with some dude doing something so stupid that the lady can't help but laugh her ass off. And half of the time there's maybe booze involved....but that's not my point! Are you trying to tell me that a guy has to buy me some ridiculous diamond ring (which I don't even like) to show me that he loves me? You do nothing but perpetuate the idea that you have to buy women things. And you perpetuate the idea that men should buy expensive things for women, like they should expect that. I hate you. You are full of lies and subliminal messages, ruining all the of the good guys that could be out there, who are happy with hanging out and drinking beer. Then you go and put some big idea in their head that they have to go out and buy expensive things for the woman in their life that will make them happy for a day, when he could be finding out something meaningful about that woman, that will make her happy for a lifetime. AND you shoot the idea in the woman's head that she needs these things, needs her man to buy her these things, to make her happy. Well, screw you. I want a guy that will accept that sometimes I drink beer for dinner and listen to Zeppelin playlists on autoplay and wear sweatpants all day. Not buy me an ugly ring. Why? Why would you ruin this for me, and even other men in the world who want to have man friends and man caves? Not men-who-turned-into-women friends and caves with feelings. And no, this is not some rant because I somewhere, deep down inside, want some expensive jewelry. No, I legitimately don't like these commercials and this is legitimately why. And probably why I have an aversion to jewelry stores themselves.
2. Weddings. Fuck you, I'm eloping.
Things That I Like To Do:
1. Drink on a Monday. OKAY?! I LIKE TO DRINK ON WEEKDAYS!! Sometimes I can't wait until the weekend. Because sometimes, there are still two beers left in the fridge or the last fourth of a bottle of champagne and I mean, come on...you can't let the last fourth of a bottle hang around until the weekend.
2. Um....take a shot for every homework assignment I've finished. Anyone want to be my study buddy? Let's just move on, shall we?
3. Meerkat onesie. Paint my toenails. Drink coffee. Dinosaur onesie. I might be finishing a bottle of booze right now...what? No. What? Next number!
Things That Should Go On Pizza:
1. Oregano. Yes. In marinara sauce.
2. Mozarella and Monterey Jack cheeses. Maybe Parmesan. But yes, mozo and monterey. Please.
3. Olives. Green peppers. Peperoncinis. Red onions. Bacon. Tomatoes.
Um, yeah. Things.
I'd like some more pizza, please.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Shit To Get Creative With! Part I
As an art student, I like to make things.
I also tend to be incredibly clumsy and destructive, but I like to create things, none the less.
So, when I get bored, I like to surf the intertubes for things to make....and as the annoying Christmas season rolls in, I tend to get my craft on....I like excuses to make things and give them to people.
Let's get crafty, shall we?!
1. Since it's now December, and I like to drink too much (but only on the weekends, otherwise
my body would explode), I'd like to make this:
I also tend to be incredibly clumsy and destructive, but I like to create things, none the less.
So, when I get bored, I like to surf the intertubes for things to make....and as the annoying Christmas season rolls in, I tend to get my craft on....I like excuses to make things and give them to people.
Let's get crafty, shall we?!
1. Since it's now December, and I like to drink too much (but only on the weekends, otherwise
my body would explode), I'd like to make this:
It's true...I won't make it to celebrate the advent...it's mostly just an excuse to drink more.
Don't judge me. I'm only human!
2. My life would cease to make sense without cooking. We'll start with my favorite: cookies.
Sadly, I will not be able to eat entire batches because I have significantly cut sugar down in my
diet. But I'm going to make them anyway. Cookies are also my gift to everyone during the
Christmas season. Marathon cookie making week, package 'em up and send 'em out!
Eggnog cookies. Yep. I like cookies, I like eggnog, and I like the idea of the two...coming together as one....what? Conan the Barbarian? Where did you come from?
3. I like healthy things, but some of the healthy things I ingest cost me half my paycheck, so...I
start to make them instead. This is called Kombucha, or "mushroom tea". It's an old recipe
for fermented tea using healthy bacteria that help clean out your body. Probiotics, enzymes,
and tangy, sweet, fizzy goodness. Call me weird, but I like it, and it makes me feel really
good. They've done studies that show it blocks the reproduction of cancer cells. So take that.
It's also really damn expensive. So I'm making my own.
4. Any excuse to make beer is a good excuse. My dad ordered a beer-making kit yesterday. Let
the holiday brewing begin. Who wants fresh beer?!
Fun fact of the day: did you know that they put trace amounts of formaldehyde in canned
and bottled beers to preserve them for longer? Don't have to worry about being preserved after you're dead!
Gross.
5. OH MY GOD, HUGS! What?? YES! I love this idea--sending hugs to those far away! I love
hugs, and I love sending love. What could be better??
Honestly, this is so sweet and I would love to do this. It's Flat Stanley, hug-style!
Creative giving is probably the best thing about my life. This is only part one. Get your ready-pants on for part two, and possibly three. It's a saga. Like Lord of the Rings, but cute and ridiculous and begins and ends with me sitting in my pajamas on a barstool in my kitchen.
So not like Lord of the Rings at all.
But I might watch it while I'm creatively adventuring.
Yep. My life. Pretty awesome.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
The Awkward Bar Talk
There are things in my life that happen, and I have no idea why or how they happen. I'm just sitting there, drinkin' my drank, and all of a sudden, RANDOM SHIT!!!
What? Why? Where did that come from?
I just wanted to drink my gin and be a stupid drunk fuck, posting random things on Facebook, do some ridiculous karaoke and end up with a hangover the next morning having awkward moments with myself as I remember the really dumb things I said...
Me: Uhhhh, yeah, sure, it's a free country.
Him: Hi, I'm (blah blah blah, some random dude. Insert typical drunk guy name here).
Me: *fuck* Nice to meet you, I'm Jessica. *he shakes my hand for just a little too long*
Him: So this is my first time here.
Me: Haha, wow, I'm sorry. *despite my sick and twisted love for my dinky, lame town,
I do understand that it's kind of lame and dinky, so most people don't appreciate it as much as I
do* *I sip my gin*
Him: Haha, oh, it's okay. I'm here with my friend who lives in town. I'm from up north.
Me: Oh, that's cool. Welcome!
Him: Oh, haha, no I'm from here....I used to live just outside of town. So, are you from around
here?
Me: (this is where things start to get funky...I think, 'then why did you say it's you're first time
here?') Oh, okay, yeah, I know where you're talking about. And yeah, I'm just visiting though.
(What??)
Him: So, what do you do?
Me: *holds up glass* I drink. A lot.
Him: Haha, yeah? That's all you do?
Me: Yup. Straight up drinking. Every day. (Okay, not true, but he doesn't need to know that.)
Him: You know what the remedy is for that, right? *pauses with awkward smile for effect*
(What? Who said I needed a fucking remedy? Where did you come from? Who asked you?)
Me: *eyebrow raise* Oh yeah? Drink more?
Him: Hahaha, no, usually the remedy is to cut back a little bit...
Me: Nope. Pretty sure it's to continue drinking more. I do this professionally. *starts to feel like a
jerk* But seriously, I'm an art student.
Him: Oh, really? That's cool! Me too...except I'm the computy (yes, he actually used that word)
kind of artist. *types on table for effect. Seems very pleased with himself.* What medium do you
use?
Me: Hahahaha! I have no fuckin' idea. All of them. I figured I'd get some general fine arts in and
then decide where to go from there.
Him: *silence* *smiles awkwardly*
Me: *shifts in chair* So, what do you do? *drinks more. Brain knows it's going to be a long
ride*
Him: Well, let me show you my card! *pulls out wallet, from which he pulls a business card for
holistic healing*
Me: *DRINKS MORE*
At this point, he begins to talk about how he's a graphic artist for this raw, vegan holistic healing company that he launched a month ago, and he starts explaining that it all started when he met his GIRLFRIEND (WHAT?! STOP AWKWARDLY FLIRTING WITH ME!), and she was dying of a nasty bowel disease (at this point, I figure she's dead), but they started eating raw food and she healed within three weeks (so she's not dead? Did she break up with you when she realized she was going to live and could find someone less awkward?), and so he dropped out of college and launched this business. There were more words in there and lots of arm and hand motions and he pulled out his phone to show me pictures of raw food and gave explanations on whole food diets and Crohn's disease...none of which I needed explained to me, but I just kept on sippin' my drank, hoping he might quiet down and get bored and leave. Granted, I respect the guy for starting his own business and I actually do think holistic healing is pretty cool, but geeze. This is a bar, I am drinking with my friends, and you're killin' my buzz, kid. Then, his weird-smelling friend comes over....
Friend: Hi, I'm (Er, forgot guy's name. Who cares? Not me.)
Me: Hi.
Friend: So what do you do?
Me: (This? Again? Fuck.) I'm an art student.
Friend: Oh cool! What kind of medium?
Me: No idea. *decides to make some shit up* Photography, watercolor and ceramics.
Friend: Oh man, ceramics is sooo coool. It's all earthy and you can create and form and
manipulate! It's like, humanity!
Me: *you smell sooooo fuckin' weird, dude* Hahahahahaha, yeah....it's like humanity! Ceramics
and beer. Just like humanity!
Friend: Uhhhh, yeah....I guess I can see where you're going with that.
This is quickly becoming the most awkward, weird conversation I've ever been in, and my drink is almost gone and I'm still not drunk enough to deal with this. I text my friend who's sitting on the other side of the table with her boyfriend to save me, and I contemplate texting a guy friend, any guy friend, to come in and pretend to be my boyfriend for twenty minutes to get this kid to leave....then he gets up to go pee. His friend leaves for somewhere else.
My friend: Crap, I'm sorry, I didn't know what to say!
Her BF: How's your new boyfriend? Are you in love? This guy is freakin' me out. He shook
my hand and held it for just a little too long.
Me: What the fuck is with this guy?
When he comes back, my friend convinces him that he can't sit at our table unless he has a drink. He begins to protest, and she stands her ground. He leaves for the bar.
Her: Yes, I'm a genius! I got him to leave! But if he comes back with a drink....he's just sad.
Me: Fuck. I really hope that doesn't happen.
Her BF: You wanna switch seats? You'll be between me and her and he can't get to you.
Genius. We switch. She asks about how weird he is....then he comes back, drink in hand, finds a way around her BF, and sits next to me again.
Him: I'm sorry, I was being flirted with by a gay guy! Happens to me all the time!
The fact that this kid looks like a toothpick with a cheezeball stuck on top and long, delicate arms and hands doesn't have anything to do with that....
Me: *do not make snide remark, do not make snide remark, do not make snide remark*
Hahahahahahaha!
My friend: Hey, Jess, I thought you said your boyfriend was coming. Where is he at? He must be
working late.
Me: *genius! pure genius!* Psshh, yeah, probably. I dunno, he hasn't texted me yet. He must be
busy.
Him: Well, I have to go. It's been nice talking to you!
He gets up to find his friend. As they leave, he sets his cup on the bar in our line of sight.
My friend: What the fff--he was drinking water! He went and got a cup of water and said it was a
drink so that he could sit here!! Geeze! That guy was weird. I'm a genius, though! I never thought
he'd leave!
Most. Awkward. Conversation. Ever.
And thus continues another round of random shit that happens to me. Especially random creepers. ALL THE FUCKING TIME. I don't know how to explain it. I do my best to combat it. I never go to the bar or parties without friends. I stick by them constantly.
But they still find me.
What the fuck?
What? Why? Where did that come from?
I just wanted to drink my gin and be a stupid drunk fuck, posting random things on Facebook, do some ridiculous karaoke and end up with a hangover the next morning having awkward moments with myself as I remember the really dumb things I said...
- So I'm down at the local bar, right? Hangin' out with some friends, sipping my gin from a tiny pink straw. We're not talking, but it's just a lull in conversation. All of a sudden, some skinny dude that was standing at the bar comes over and says, "Can I sit here?" He points to the empty chairs on my right. Ugh, okay, so he'll talk to me for about five to ten minutes, then move on, like they usually do. Oh no. Not this guy.
Me: Uhhhh, yeah, sure, it's a free country.
Him: Hi, I'm (blah blah blah, some random dude. Insert typical drunk guy name here).
Me: *fuck* Nice to meet you, I'm Jessica. *he shakes my hand for just a little too long*
Him: So this is my first time here.
Me: Haha, wow, I'm sorry. *despite my sick and twisted love for my dinky, lame town,
I do understand that it's kind of lame and dinky, so most people don't appreciate it as much as I
do* *I sip my gin*
Him: Haha, oh, it's okay. I'm here with my friend who lives in town. I'm from up north.
Me: Oh, that's cool. Welcome!
Him: Oh, haha, no I'm from here....I used to live just outside of town. So, are you from around
here?
Me: (this is where things start to get funky...I think, 'then why did you say it's you're first time
here?') Oh, okay, yeah, I know where you're talking about. And yeah, I'm just visiting though.
(What??)
Him: So, what do you do?
Me: *holds up glass* I drink. A lot.
Him: Haha, yeah? That's all you do?
Me: Yup. Straight up drinking. Every day. (Okay, not true, but he doesn't need to know that.)
Him: You know what the remedy is for that, right? *pauses with awkward smile for effect*
(What? Who said I needed a fucking remedy? Where did you come from? Who asked you?)
Me: *eyebrow raise* Oh yeah? Drink more?
Him: Hahaha, no, usually the remedy is to cut back a little bit...
Me: Nope. Pretty sure it's to continue drinking more. I do this professionally. *starts to feel like a
jerk* But seriously, I'm an art student.
Him: Oh, really? That's cool! Me too...except I'm the computy (yes, he actually used that word)
kind of artist. *types on table for effect. Seems very pleased with himself.* What medium do you
use?
Me: Hahahaha! I have no fuckin' idea. All of them. I figured I'd get some general fine arts in and
then decide where to go from there.
Him: *silence* *smiles awkwardly*
Me: *shifts in chair* So, what do you do? *drinks more. Brain knows it's going to be a long
ride*
Him: Well, let me show you my card! *pulls out wallet, from which he pulls a business card for
holistic healing*
Me: *DRINKS MORE*
At this point, he begins to talk about how he's a graphic artist for this raw, vegan holistic healing company that he launched a month ago, and he starts explaining that it all started when he met his GIRLFRIEND (WHAT?! STOP AWKWARDLY FLIRTING WITH ME!), and she was dying of a nasty bowel disease (at this point, I figure she's dead), but they started eating raw food and she healed within three weeks (so she's not dead? Did she break up with you when she realized she was going to live and could find someone less awkward?), and so he dropped out of college and launched this business. There were more words in there and lots of arm and hand motions and he pulled out his phone to show me pictures of raw food and gave explanations on whole food diets and Crohn's disease...none of which I needed explained to me, but I just kept on sippin' my drank, hoping he might quiet down and get bored and leave. Granted, I respect the guy for starting his own business and I actually do think holistic healing is pretty cool, but geeze. This is a bar, I am drinking with my friends, and you're killin' my buzz, kid. Then, his weird-smelling friend comes over....
Friend: Hi, I'm (Er, forgot guy's name. Who cares? Not me.)
Me: Hi.
Friend: So what do you do?
Me: (This? Again? Fuck.) I'm an art student.
Friend: Oh cool! What kind of medium?
Me: No idea. *decides to make some shit up* Photography, watercolor and ceramics.
Friend: Oh man, ceramics is sooo coool. It's all earthy and you can create and form and
manipulate! It's like, humanity!
Me: *you smell sooooo fuckin' weird, dude* Hahahahahaha, yeah....it's like humanity! Ceramics
and beer. Just like humanity!
Friend: Uhhhh, yeah....I guess I can see where you're going with that.
This is quickly becoming the most awkward, weird conversation I've ever been in, and my drink is almost gone and I'm still not drunk enough to deal with this. I text my friend who's sitting on the other side of the table with her boyfriend to save me, and I contemplate texting a guy friend, any guy friend, to come in and pretend to be my boyfriend for twenty minutes to get this kid to leave....then he gets up to go pee. His friend leaves for somewhere else.
My friend: Crap, I'm sorry, I didn't know what to say!
Her BF: How's your new boyfriend? Are you in love? This guy is freakin' me out. He shook
my hand and held it for just a little too long.
Me: What the fuck is with this guy?
When he comes back, my friend convinces him that he can't sit at our table unless he has a drink. He begins to protest, and she stands her ground. He leaves for the bar.
Her: Yes, I'm a genius! I got him to leave! But if he comes back with a drink....he's just sad.
Me: Fuck. I really hope that doesn't happen.
Her BF: You wanna switch seats? You'll be between me and her and he can't get to you.
Genius. We switch. She asks about how weird he is....then he comes back, drink in hand, finds a way around her BF, and sits next to me again.
Him: I'm sorry, I was being flirted with by a gay guy! Happens to me all the time!
The fact that this kid looks like a toothpick with a cheezeball stuck on top and long, delicate arms and hands doesn't have anything to do with that....
Me: *do not make snide remark, do not make snide remark, do not make snide remark*
Hahahahahahaha!
My friend: Hey, Jess, I thought you said your boyfriend was coming. Where is he at? He must be
working late.
Me: *genius! pure genius!* Psshh, yeah, probably. I dunno, he hasn't texted me yet. He must be
busy.
Him: Well, I have to go. It's been nice talking to you!
He gets up to find his friend. As they leave, he sets his cup on the bar in our line of sight.
My friend: What the fff--he was drinking water! He went and got a cup of water and said it was a
drink so that he could sit here!! Geeze! That guy was weird. I'm a genius, though! I never thought
he'd leave!
Most. Awkward. Conversation. Ever.
And thus continues another round of random shit that happens to me. Especially random creepers. ALL THE FUCKING TIME. I don't know how to explain it. I do my best to combat it. I never go to the bar or parties without friends. I stick by them constantly.
But they still find me.
What the fuck?
Monday, November 19, 2012
Mind Explosions
I'm awake. I'm awake, I'm awake, I'm awake.
And I should be sleeping. Of course. I know this. I have class in the morning. But my brain keeps going. This could be because of the coffee that I drank at 8pm, or the fact that I've been watching documentaries all day, and my brain just keeps rolling.
From how beer saved the world to four college kids going to Europe to discover Christianity within themselves and how others view god and faith, my brain has not stopped downloading information. I love documentaries with an alarming amount of passion (obviously, because I have been watching them on Netflix since about 2 this afternoon and it's almost midnight). But why do I love them so much?
They inspire me to go and do and be. Be human. Discover life.
If I'm gonna be completely honest, what I really want right now is a turkey sandwich on whole-grain with mustard and mayonnaise and lettuce and tomato and sprouts. It just sounds good. But I had granola, and I have no money to go buy these ingredients, so the sandwich won't happen for awhile.
So instead, what I'm gonna do is ponder things. I ponder faith a lot. Probably multiple times per day. For anyone who knows me, they know that I'm pretty well adjusted as a person and I'm pretty set within my own faith.
But I wonder about it anyway, and sometimes I wander somewhere and get lost, away from it. Well, I'm glad to say that I have slowly been coming back into it, and I have so many more things to add to it. I feel like, when it comes to faith, you sometimes need to become lost, either within it or outside of it, because it is then that you have so many different experiences in life and within yourself. You find yourself asking more and more questions, seeking answers, and when you return to it, it's like returning home from a trip to another country, or even another state or city. Your mind has expanded and you understand the world a little better, so in turn, you understand yourself a little more. You want to share pictures and stories with your friends and family, share the culture with them. Only, with faith, you share your experiences with yourself. You place your understandings into empty places where they connect to one thing, which connects to another and so on. Your mind becomes more grounded, your heart and spirit more peaceful.
When I first moved to Washington, I had a faith epiphany. A re-birth of self. It was incredible, and I don't want to say that it happened within a moment, but there was a moment that I realized it was happening, and where. It didn't happen in a church, it didn't happen with any family members or any sort of religious guidance. It happened outside. In the rain. Amongst the trees, the ferns, the nasty slugs of the rainforest that is the Pacific Northwest. By myself. I was on a trail at a park, being a hippie artist chick, taking pictures of the moss on a tree branch, and there it was. There was God, life, souls, myself, reality, peace, truth. Faith. There I was. My soul. God. Nature. My soul, God, and Nature. All as one. I knew who I was. I knew that I was walking the right path. I was not perfect, nor would I ever be. I would be constantly changing, I would make so many mistakes that I would sometimes want to slap myself in the face. But I knew life would go on, that I would accept these, forgive myself, know that I had made them, take those to heart, and know that I was still a true and beautiful person. Not on the outside--again, anyone who knows me knows that I tend to not care much about outward appearances--but my humanity, my soul.
Faith is about discovery, and I think many people completely overlook this massively important part about it. It's not just about searching for God in religion, it's about discovering life, because God is life and nature, and life and nature is God. Experiencing all of the people, culture, places, talents, natural beauties that God has placed upon this Earth, discovering what it means to our souls, our minds, and loving every single thing for what it is and knowing in your heart that you are meant to live this path even if you're scared, that's faith. Without discovery, I believe that we truly miss out on the whole of God.
I recently became lost in myself, and therefore became lost in my own faith. I have come back with full force, with a stronger heart, understanding more about life that I can now bring into my faith (whoa, no joke I think I had a dream about writing this post...I have those too, since I was a kid...weird prophetic dreams and feeling the energies of something besides myself within a room, which is freaky, but we can talk about that one later). I have come back as a better person. I'd like to credit this to one question a friend asked me months ago, slightly intoxicated, smoking a cigar.
"What do you think is the meaning of life?"
That's all it took. I didn't know how to answer. I knew it had to be in here somewhere...I just didn't know where. Then I realized...where had my faith itself gone? I didn't even notice that I had wandered away from it. I also realized that I had been worried about how other people would see me and my faith.
Well, maybe I needed to work my way back to it. Since then, I've been letting myself wander back into it. I don't work well with immediate, club-myself-on-the-head, dive-right-in-and-get-to-it faith. Sure, that works for me in a lot of other things, but not faith. I have to poke around quite a bit first. So I've been poking, and my poking had been turning into prodding, and my prodding has turned into throwing the cookbook aside, turning up the music and dancing on the table while mixing the dough.
So here I am, mixing the dough again. Still pondering the meaning of life, or my life, as it were, because I truly believe we all have different meanings, but being one with myself and my faith again. And not worrying about how other people will see it. Other people will see what they want, and interpret how they will, no matter how plain and straightforward you try to make it. Some will take you at face value, and many, many others won't. But truly? You know. And God knows. As long as you are a true, genuine, caring person who accepts imperfections and faults, you are following the right path that God has set you upon. And to me, that is what matters.
And I should be sleeping. Of course. I know this. I have class in the morning. But my brain keeps going. This could be because of the coffee that I drank at 8pm, or the fact that I've been watching documentaries all day, and my brain just keeps rolling.
From how beer saved the world to four college kids going to Europe to discover Christianity within themselves and how others view god and faith, my brain has not stopped downloading information. I love documentaries with an alarming amount of passion (obviously, because I have been watching them on Netflix since about 2 this afternoon and it's almost midnight). But why do I love them so much?
They inspire me to go and do and be. Be human. Discover life.
If I'm gonna be completely honest, what I really want right now is a turkey sandwich on whole-grain with mustard and mayonnaise and lettuce and tomato and sprouts. It just sounds good. But I had granola, and I have no money to go buy these ingredients, so the sandwich won't happen for awhile.
So instead, what I'm gonna do is ponder things. I ponder faith a lot. Probably multiple times per day. For anyone who knows me, they know that I'm pretty well adjusted as a person and I'm pretty set within my own faith.
But I wonder about it anyway, and sometimes I wander somewhere and get lost, away from it. Well, I'm glad to say that I have slowly been coming back into it, and I have so many more things to add to it. I feel like, when it comes to faith, you sometimes need to become lost, either within it or outside of it, because it is then that you have so many different experiences in life and within yourself. You find yourself asking more and more questions, seeking answers, and when you return to it, it's like returning home from a trip to another country, or even another state or city. Your mind has expanded and you understand the world a little better, so in turn, you understand yourself a little more. You want to share pictures and stories with your friends and family, share the culture with them. Only, with faith, you share your experiences with yourself. You place your understandings into empty places where they connect to one thing, which connects to another and so on. Your mind becomes more grounded, your heart and spirit more peaceful.
When I first moved to Washington, I had a faith epiphany. A re-birth of self. It was incredible, and I don't want to say that it happened within a moment, but there was a moment that I realized it was happening, and where. It didn't happen in a church, it didn't happen with any family members or any sort of religious guidance. It happened outside. In the rain. Amongst the trees, the ferns, the nasty slugs of the rainforest that is the Pacific Northwest. By myself. I was on a trail at a park, being a hippie artist chick, taking pictures of the moss on a tree branch, and there it was. There was God, life, souls, myself, reality, peace, truth. Faith. There I was. My soul. God. Nature. My soul, God, and Nature. All as one. I knew who I was. I knew that I was walking the right path. I was not perfect, nor would I ever be. I would be constantly changing, I would make so many mistakes that I would sometimes want to slap myself in the face. But I knew life would go on, that I would accept these, forgive myself, know that I had made them, take those to heart, and know that I was still a true and beautiful person. Not on the outside--again, anyone who knows me knows that I tend to not care much about outward appearances--but my humanity, my soul.
Faith is about discovery, and I think many people completely overlook this massively important part about it. It's not just about searching for God in religion, it's about discovering life, because God is life and nature, and life and nature is God. Experiencing all of the people, culture, places, talents, natural beauties that God has placed upon this Earth, discovering what it means to our souls, our minds, and loving every single thing for what it is and knowing in your heart that you are meant to live this path even if you're scared, that's faith. Without discovery, I believe that we truly miss out on the whole of God.
I recently became lost in myself, and therefore became lost in my own faith. I have come back with full force, with a stronger heart, understanding more about life that I can now bring into my faith (whoa, no joke I think I had a dream about writing this post...I have those too, since I was a kid...weird prophetic dreams and feeling the energies of something besides myself within a room, which is freaky, but we can talk about that one later). I have come back as a better person. I'd like to credit this to one question a friend asked me months ago, slightly intoxicated, smoking a cigar.
"What do you think is the meaning of life?"
That's all it took. I didn't know how to answer. I knew it had to be in here somewhere...I just didn't know where. Then I realized...where had my faith itself gone? I didn't even notice that I had wandered away from it. I also realized that I had been worried about how other people would see me and my faith.
Well, maybe I needed to work my way back to it. Since then, I've been letting myself wander back into it. I don't work well with immediate, club-myself-on-the-head, dive-right-in-and-get-to-it faith. Sure, that works for me in a lot of other things, but not faith. I have to poke around quite a bit first. So I've been poking, and my poking had been turning into prodding, and my prodding has turned into throwing the cookbook aside, turning up the music and dancing on the table while mixing the dough.
So here I am, mixing the dough again. Still pondering the meaning of life, or my life, as it were, because I truly believe we all have different meanings, but being one with myself and my faith again. And not worrying about how other people will see it. Other people will see what they want, and interpret how they will, no matter how plain and straightforward you try to make it. Some will take you at face value, and many, many others won't. But truly? You know. And God knows. As long as you are a true, genuine, caring person who accepts imperfections and faults, you are following the right path that God has set you upon. And to me, that is what matters.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
I Like To Procrastinate
I honestly don't know that I'm going to finish my film class. I haven't even started it. Because I like to procrastinate, and I can't seem to wrap my brain around anything right now. Besides drinking this beer.
So, things that I like to do to procrastinate. Especially for school. Because I hate school, and have fooled everyone else into believing that I think it's great.
Yep.
So, things that I like to do to procrastinate. Especially for school. Because I hate school, and have fooled everyone else into believing that I think it's great.
- Drink beer.
- Comment on things on the intertubes.
- Drink gin.
- Go buy more beer.
- Roll around on the floor.
- Make cookies.
- Eat cookies.
- Get shitfaced playing Wii.
- Work.
- Drink more beer.
Yep.
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