Jonah Days

I had a massage yesterday. It was awkward. I'm so tense that I hardly felt anything. I kept trying to relax, but I just started tensing up again the moment I stopped concentrating on relaxing. I think that my shoulders feel even more tense today.

I've been trying to work on relaxing and not worrying. And I'll think that I'm doing pretty well. I'll feel pretty good about things, I don't feel overly stressed, and I'm able to sleep at night. So everything must be fine. But I'll still walk around with my shoulders pulled up to my ears, thinking about all these little things that shouldn't matter. I'll still let worry creep into my day. I still sit around waiting for a disaster.

If I could just turn off my brain for a few hours it would be lovely. But it's always running in three directions at once, I think about three or four different things all at the same time, try to figure out how a and b connect, and whether I should worry about c, and then along comes something completely unrelated like the fact that I think my hair is turning gray.

I've been spending a lot of time overloading my senses to try and give myself some silence. I'll put on the tv rather loudly, and play Mario on my DS with full sound, and throw a ball around for my dog. And for thirty seconds I'm completely occupied and unable to think about anything else.

I try to let go of everything. I try to stop myself before I start. To give it all up. I pray about it. I say that I want to let go of it. And really, I do. But then something will work it's way slowly into my day, and I'll find myself stressing out about the stupidest things.

As much as I try so hard to be indifferent, and to tell myself that I am confident and content, these small insidious fears creep in and disrupt my day. Maybe I should not have said that. Maybe I was too brash. Maybe I told you too much. Maybe I didn't tell you enough. Maybe I should just crawl under a rock and never come out.

And even though I know that I am happy, that I am safe, that I am loved; I let these "what ifs" and "well and if I coulds" slip in and slowly take over, so that I am panicking about nothing.

A twitterpated fool

Sometimes I get frustrated with myself. I don't really have much courage. I am strong in a lot of ways, but I am not very brave. I do not have the courage to do what makes me happy. I do not have the courage to say the things I know I should. I cover it up with a lot of double talk and seeming nonchalance, but it really just comes down to the fact that I am a coward.

Sometimes I wish I could turn off my brain. I wish I could sit for a few hours and just have white noise. I don't always want my thoughts tearing into five opposite directions and simultaneously coming to five different conclusions. I had an acting teacher that used to tell me I was too smart for my own good. I think about that sometimes.

Sometimes I think that the risks I have taken have all been the wrong ones, and maybe we only have so many times in life where we're willing to risk it all and see what happens. I think that I might have wasted mine on things of little consequence.

Sometimes I think that if I could just sit around a read for the rest of my days I would be most content. People in books are so much nicer. You can almost always tell what they are going to do before they do it, if they become frustrating you can just shut the book and walk away from them, and they are alway there when you need them.

Sometimes I don't tell what you what I mean, and I mean everything I don't say.

Thinking Thoughts

I want to take life slowly.

I want to go live in Mexico for at least a year.

I want to experience France too.

I want to not fall in love again.

I want to grow my hair long.

I want to do it right this time, and stick to the plan.

I want to savor this moment.

I want to avoid you.

I want to make them laugh at things that make me cry.

I want to sing for you.

I want to write until I can't feel my fingers anymore.

I want to pretend I never felt that way, even though I still do.

I want to ride my bike to the end of the path, and then keep going.

I want to live in London for as long as I possibly can.

I want to believe that it's all possible.

I want to see the beauty in it.

I want to make sure that it means something.

I want to wear plaid again.

I want to have pink hair.

I want to pierce something.

I want to live my life like a Musical.

I want to hold hands and link arms like we used to, without caring.

I want to believe that in the end, I'll end up where I'm supposed to be...

Dios bendiga la familia Carrera

I had a big family wedding in Indiana this past weekend. I wasn't really excited about going, it was four hours away and I didn't want to deal with being around everybody for two days, but I ended up having a really good time.

My Uncle Bill used to tell me "You might give up on the family, but the family never gives up on you." I always thought that it sounded like a cheesy line from a mob movie, and it kind of does, but this weekend I finally understood it.

Growing up sometimes you don't always get along, you get embarrassed, you get annoyed, you get angry, but, family is family and there is nothing that can change that. Over the past few years things have changed. Cousins that I always used to fight with have become friends, cousins that I never really knew have become confidants, my aunts and uncles have become people that I share interests with, the people I used to avoid I get excited to see.

There were so many moments this past weekend when I realize just how blessed I am to have so many people that love me, each other, and the Lord. I spent so many years taking them all for granted, and now that I'm thinking about moving away in a few years I see how much I would miss them all.

Everyone that came to the wedding stayed at the same hotel, we had pizza last night as a big group and the cousins and our friends (who might as well be family) went and played Rock Band till an obscene hour and then everybody stumbled out of bed this morning and we all had a big breakfast together. It was so neat to look around the room and see everybody sitting around talking and laughing, to sit with my cousins till everyone else had left for the pool and just talk about nothing. We aren't perfect, and we don't always do things the right way, or say the right things, but we get by ok.

My Uncle George came and took a picture of a group of us as we were sitting around after breakfast, and it just struck me how close we all are, without even trying to be, sometimes maybe even without wanting to be. It felt like an episode of Boy Meets World; even though George III had already left.

I never thought I would be the kind of person who would be so into my family, but it turns out that I am. The past two years in particular have made me realize just how much I love them and how lucky I am to have them.

Joyful Jumping

Last week was a good week. Beyond good, really. Amazing even.

There were so many moments when I just felt so completely that I was exactly where I was supposed to be, doing exactly what I was meant to do right then. I lived in the moment I was in. It had been a while since I'd done that. It was shattering, in the best possible way. The girls were amazing, and I learned so many little lessons, and God showed me so many wonderful things.

When I'm depressed I forget how important it is to live a joyful life. Not always happy, but always joyful. I'm working on holding onto that.

I was scared to come home, scared that everything would be too real and too big again. But everything has been falling into place. All the big scary problems are becoming smaller and more manageable, and I am remembering that His grace is sufficient. I am finally finding the place I've wanted to be, after years of struggle and faltering.

It's an amazing feeling.

I'm living in small moments of amazement and wonder.

failure to disconnect

I have been crying a lot lately. I think I cry, or come close to crying almost every day. I cry about everything and nothing. I cried at work today. I cried while watching The Incredible Hulk. I cried in my car while listening to Derek Webb. It seems like everything I feel is terribly close to the surface lately. I feel isolated, overwhelmed, and completely vulnerable.

I feel like you could break me with a single word.

But in the midst of all this brokenness, I have found a new strength. I have found the strength to resist the temptation to fall back on old habits and old sins. I have found the strength to take criticism, advice, and praise; and the wisdom to put it all in perspective (most of the time). I still need to learn how to ask for help. I still need to learn that it's ok for people to know that I need them. I still need to learn to be more gracious. I still need to learn how to trust. My path seems difficult at times, even insurmountable; but with the grace and love of God I am able to take it one step at a time.

Through all my faithlessness He has been faithful. Even when I thought I could never come home; He continued to call my name. I know that I will be able to handle everything that lies ahead. I know that God is there, even when it seems like I am alone...I just don't always feel it.

It's so easy to be open here. It's almost as if I'm talking to no one. I can tell you about my fears, my struggles, and my small victories. I can pretend that no one knows. I can hope that someone cares. I can pretend to make real connections. I can feign indifference when the real connections don't happen. I can be embarrassingly honest without having to see the look on your face when you read this.

Let's all play the glad game

On the way to work this morning I saw a cyclist with Cerebral Palsy. There was something about him that was so beautiful. I can't describe it, or explain it, so I won't try. But he was beautiful.

I long for that kind of beauty in my life.

I saw Avenue Q last night. It was a lot of fun. But there was one line in the final number of the show that really go me thinking.

"Everyone's a little bit unsatisfied.
Everyone goes 'round a little empty inside..."

I found it disconcerting. It got me thinking about satisfaction, learning to be content. Am I supposed to go around always wanting more? On one hand that could be what drives us to grow, to further ourselves, to accomplish things. I am having a hard time right now with contentment. I know that I have so much to be thankful for, I have so much in my life that is wonderful, I have so much ahead of me as well. And yet, I am not satisfied. I am wanting more. But this dissatisfaction does not drive me; it eats away at me.

So every time I get upset about something. I think of Pollyanna, and I play the glad game. Sometimes, it's feels like a lot of work to find something to be glad about. But everyday I get a little better at it.

I might get crutches instead of a doll, but I can still be glad that I don't need to use them.

Eat Me! I'm fresh!

I don't often make mistakes in the kitchen, but when I do....I end up making brownies that look and taste like mud.

Chicago is going to have it's first ever gourmet food and wine festival. It's around $200 for a weekend pass. There will be two days of tastings and demonstrations. I really want to go. I haven't decided if I can really justify it. It might mean no HP convention. So, that's a tough decision. I really like Harry Potter, but I also really like food.

I need to start cooking again. I remember when I used to do a lot more in the kitchen. I have gotten so lazy. I have been eating such terrible food lately. I need to get back to eating food worth eating. I want to start eating good food again, forget the frozen microwave meals and the instant soups and the processed sandwiches. I remember risotto, grilled chicken salads, fresh fruit and yogurt, chevre and sourdough with a glass of wine, dark chocolate grated over clementines with chopped mint.

Mmmm...sounds like a good plan.

Life should be more like a cartoon musical

About a week ago I was in Marshall's trying on some hats. I just adore hats. Wearing a hat makes me feel like a 1940's film star. I was trying out this little wide brimmed straw number with a black grosgrain ribbon band, and I decided to pop my huge white sunglasses on to see how it all looked. As I was looking in the mirror I hear this little whistling sound, and I look over to the aisle on my right and there is this little old black lady standing there. "I was just whistlin' at you, it looks good on you child." I thanked her and we shared a giggle. It was adorable, and so of course I bought the hat.

Last night we had our final show at second city. I was going out after the show to celebrate a birthday at a club downtown. My cousin was supposed to pick me up after the show so we could car pool. So I was standing outside Piper's Alley waiting and looking for the van. I decided to call and see where they were and just as I put the phone to my ear to listen for George to pick up an old man came up to me and starting talking to me about the show.

The phone is ringing, but this man just keeps talking to me, telling me how great the show is, that I was so good, telling haw my Realtor was just perfect, and giving me sketch ideas he thinks that we could develop into something funny. All the while I am chatting back to him and being friendly, and I keep whispering into the phone for them to stay on the line. I hear Tim hollering at George about not being the one driving, and how he's on hold. And this little old man just keeps chatting away. I don't even think he noticed the phone at all. It was just cute. He was such a dear little old man.

It was such a sweet little moment, made me kind of stop and think about someone else while I was bustling about my life. It was a nice little check, a reminder in how little it costs to be friendly. It made my night a little nicer.

I finally watched Enchanted. It was wonderful. I want my life to be a cartoon musical. I figure I'm part of the way there, I've got Disney princess eyes, an over-expressive face, a comical animal sidekick, and a penchant for bursting into song.

Wow.

That's how I feel about this past month.

Babies, weddings, graduations, final finals, performances, grad school applications...

Maybe it doesn't seem like much, but I feel like my life is so different from what it was just a few weeks ago.

I feel so different.

I watched two of my closest friends get married. It was so exciting, and surreal. I remember when they first began dating, I remember listening to them both talk about one another before they started dating. I felt overwhelmed when I saw them exchange vows. I have pictures of Kris and I when we were little kids in Christmas pageants together, photos of Sarah and I in high school in our crazy little black and red outfits, and last weekend I watched them start a huge, amazing, wonderful new adventure together.

When I turned in my grad school application I panicked a little. It's finally hitting me that I really have to be a grown up now. It's time to start thinking about things in a very real and concrete sense. I am making plans that will alter the course of the rest of my life.

It's all very real to me all of the sudden. Everything seems so huge. Finances, school, work, it all seems bigger and more intimidating.

I don't know if I'm ready.

Cheekbones and cookies

I've found that secret smile again, I don't know if it's a good thing, but I'm trying not to worry about it.

On Sunday my Uncle George introduced me to an old friend of his, he said that everyone was looking forward to seeing great things from me. It made me panic a little. I don't feel capable of any sort of greatness. But maybe that's the point. It's not my greatness that matters, it's not my greatness that will accomplish anything. That's scary too. But in a different way, letting go of everything and trusting that it will all come together. Trusting that I won't be dashed to pieces on the rocks or swallowed by the waves. Remembering that I have to keep looking ahead, to the only one who can save me from myself.

Starting to trust God in all the little things, as well as the big ones, has been so huge. I'm seeing things come together in ways I never thought they would. Little things like a comment about my hair cut, or an unexpected confidence, small things that make the world easier to handle, the little things that make me smile when I think back on the day. These are the things that I am learning to be thankful for, not taking them for granted, but appreciating them and really being thankful for them. It's so crazy how I can stress about something for weeks, and as soon as I let go of it and give it up, I see it come together and get resolved. How when I finally surrender my pride and ask for help or comfort, it is given in abundance.

I am rediscovering my joy in the Lord, something I thought I had lost forever. It's an amazing journey, one that I am so excited to be taking. It's so awe-inspiring to me how God can lift us from the midst of any thing and help us find our way back home.

I am trying to remember every day how far I've come and how much further I can still go.

Real Magic

I went to PetSmart yesterday with my dog, and there was a little bird lose in the store. It was flying around hiding behind big bags of seed.

I got a fantastic review at work, and a raise. As a reward to myself, from me, I bought Arrested Development Season three. I watched it all in one go. It was really funny, which is why I stayed awake until 2am.

I never thought that auditors could be hot. Today I was shown that they most certainly can be hot. Smokin' hottt. Yes that's three 't's. There are two of them and they are both gorgeous, in that tall, broad, Nordic way. Of course, I would pick today to have a frumptastic fat day.

I have this corporate gig next week, and I will be playing my guitar and singing cowboy/country songs, some of them rather silly. So, I picked up my guitar for the first time in over two years to check and see which string was missing so I could replace it. There were no missing strings, and it was tuned. I was shocked. I thought that it was a modern miracle. There was no other explanation, except magic, but either way it was pretty cool.

Then I remembered that one of my friends played my guitar when he was over last month. I couldn't remember if it had all the strings, but I figure it was probably him. I was a little crestfallen at not having been the recipient of mystical aide, but still quite pleased I didn't have to restring anything on my own.

Oh the things I mean to do

I meant to write more about Boston. It was good. It didn't end up the way I thought it would, but nothing ever does.

I meant to keep my cool, but instead made unfunny non-jokes and babbled like a buffon.

I meant to stick to my diet, but I ate two bagels with cream cheese for breakfast and lunch. And I'm pretty sure I'm gonna munch on some Cheez-its before class.

I meant to take my dog for a walk today, but I slept in.

I meant to clean my house, but I didn't do it.

However, I did make it through my MAT study guide, which was not so insightful. And I sent in a request for a visit to Wheaton. I also found out that if I go as a full time student, including one summer, I can do the program in a year and a half. So, that was good to know.

I have a feeling that grad school will turn me into a hermit. I'm pretty sure that's the only way I'll get through it.

I just realized that the show opens in less than a month, a few weeks, I had a slight panic attack.

I am currently reading Jane Austen's Guide to Dating it is phenomenal. And I don't usually like those advice giving types of books.

Boston, Day Two

So, second day in Boston/Cambridge.

I slept in today, it was delicious.

I went to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. It was alright. They had some nice El Greccos, and some nice Monets. I enjoyed the Egyptian art and the Roman bits.

I also took in the Isabella Gardner Museum, which was pretty neat.

I was wandering around Boston and at one point I thought I saw someone from Chicago. Then I remembered I was in Boston and that it was highly unlikely that they were here too.

It rained all day, which was kind of gross, but at least I have a bright green raincoat to wear. The color, which is almost neon green, makes things seem a little brighter.

I bought a book today called Jane Austen's Guide to Dating. Yes, I am that lame. I indulge in the occasional chick lit, and this was just too fun to pass up. It was called "a pithy book of concrete advice" And since my love life seems to be in a perpetual state of disarray, I thought it couldn't hurt.

I just finished dinner and am about to sit down and watch Brick, very excited.

So far no major "ah ha" moments but my fortune cookie said "You will become more passionate and determined about your convictions." So, who knows maybe I'll figure it all out after all.

Boston

I made it to Boston. I am currently sitting in my cousin's kitchen tired and well, mostly tired.

Boston is nice. It's very pretty here. Lots more color than in Chicago. A lot of the houses have this really dramatic brickwork or brightly colored siding. I spent my afternoon walking around and wandering into random antique shops. I didn't take a lot of pictures because I forgot to charge my camera battery.

It was so nice to be able to wander around without any real agenda, no schedule, no places to be. I was able to just let my mind and my feet wander where there they would. Sometimes I ended up thinking about things I wanted to leave behind me. But I guess you can't run away from everything.

The trains are so convenient and a seven day pass is so much cheaper than in Chicago. So, I'm just planning on rambling about the city for the next three days.

But before all of that I'm just going to sleep in.

Oh, my aching back

I have let myself get old.

I am so tired today. I went to bed at 2:30. For me that's like rollin' in at 5am.

Gosh, I remember when 5am was my bedtime. I'd get home at 4 or 5 and wake up at 9 or 10 and be ready to go. Now, I want to be home by 9, and in bed by 10.

What happened to me? When did I become old and reclusive?

I used to go out all the time. I used to do things. Now, I sit in my apartment with my dog and fall asleep while watching The Office on DVD. Ugh. I feel like I'm turning into my parents. I'm worried that soon I'll get to the point where anything after 7pm is going to seem like an impossibility.

So, on to boys.

I am remembering how much I like them. Not in a romantic way, I mean, I'm not falling in love with every boy I meet, but I just like them. I like hanging out with boys. It's fun. I miss having a group of boys to hang out with. I didn't realize how much I missed that until I got to hang out with boys last night. It always makes me feel a little like Jo, from Little Women. At the end of the book after she has opened up her school with the Professor, she talks about how happy she is to be surrounded by "her boys". Not just the little ones, but the big grown up boys too. It made me miss all my old boys that I never see anymore. I have a special place for all those guys, and after last night I just got started thinking about them all again.

Randomness

I got a sipder bite or somthing by the bottom of my shoulder blade. It's been itchy and it hurts, like a muscle ache. It's strange and I am displeased.

However, I have good news.

I am going to Boston! Only for a few days, and not for another week, but still. I'm am so happy to be able to get away for a break. I just want to be away from Chicago for little while. And I get to hang out with one of the neatest people I know. Willby. Huzzah!

So, this has brightened my outlook, which admitidly has been rather bleak lately. I need to start playing the 'glad game'.

I'm really good at self-disclosure

I can talk. Sometimes I can't stop talking. However, I never manage to say the things that are really important. I can't quite get out the stuff that I really want to say. Sometimes this is a good thing, as it keeps me from being a complete idiot. Sometimes it's not such a good thing because I don't end up saying things that need to be said. Sometimes, even though I know it's a good thing that I'm not saying everything that's whizzing around in my head and heart, it doesn't feel like a good thing.

Sometimes I wish life were more like books. I wish I could skip ahead and see what will happen in the next chapter, and if I don't like it, just put it down and try a new one. I wish I could have an omniscient narrator for my life, so that I could know what was going on behind that face I find so hard to read.

I hate not knowing where I am, or where I'm going. I hate that I can't figure it out. All I can do is guess. And the clues do not follow the simple logic one finds in Sherlock Holmes, it's much harder to figure out the motivations and desires of people in real life. I can't make all it out. It's not fair that people should be so cryptic. However, I am determined to figure this one out.

Too much candy makes me puke

It’s Valentines Day. The internet is awash in cute little cartoons and suggestive adverts, and articles on love and coupling and commercialism.

I read about how ugly people will end up with ugly people, pretty people will end up with other pretty people, and how ugly people will know that they are settling because they are ugly.

I also read about how much money we Americans tend to spend on this day of romance. It was a little disgusting how much people spend on average.

I also read that the average minimum price of an engagement ring was over $4,000.00.

I had intended to avoid writing today. I didn’t want to end up writing the same junk that pops up this time of year all over the place. Oh, I’m alone. Oh, why do I have to watch every one buying gifts and flowers when I know I won’t get anything? Oh, woe is me, blah, blah, blah. It’s boring and nobody really cares. But then I read these articles and I wanted to comment on some of this stuff.

First off, if I found out someone spent over $4,000 on an engagement ring I don’t really know what I’d do. That seems a bit extreme. I don’t think a ring should cost more than a Vespa. I mean, if you want to spend that much money, just buy me a Vespa. It’s useful and fun.

Then the whole thing about ugly people got me thinking. It got me thinking more specifically about my last few beaus. They were not lookers. In fact most of them were just plain funny looking. It made me wonder if that means that I am, in fact, funny looking. While I know for a fact that I am no Angelina, I’d like to think I’m not exactly Strangers With Candy fugly either.

Maybe if I lower my standards just a little bit more, next year I’ll be able to get a big ugly card from a big ugly man.

Well, a girl can dream…

Elfin

I have a rather round face and pretty big eyes and my ears stick out from my head a little bit, so I tend to look like a cartoon elf sometimes.

I got my cartilage pierced in November and I can finally change out the earring. I put a hoop in this morning, and I looked like I belonged in a bad fantasy film. I was a little disappointed. I guess I'll have to stick to a little barbell or a stud.

*sigh*

Chatterbox

I've been watching a lot of Anne of Green Gables, which causes me to smile, and I see a lot of myself in it. And today I realized that I tend to do what Anne does all the time. Which is to talk and talk and talk, making sense about only half the time and often divulging personal information without thinking. I am often saying things that seem to make people slightly uncomfortable, or unintentionally amused, sometimes both.

I don't think there is any help for it. I suppose I could try silence, but I don't think that I'd be able to keep that up for very long.

On a completely different note, Oklahoma! is amazing. Any musical with an ! at the end has got to be pretty fantastic. This show never ceases to make me smile and long to sing along. I go through phases where I listen to it and watch it non-stop, then I stop and forget about it, until one day I put it on again and remember why I love it so much.

What if it were today?

Heath Ledger is dead. It seems so strange. I feel like these sort of accidental overdoses are only supposed to happen in Valley of the Dolls. I didn't believe it when my friends told me. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do with it. Am I supposed to be torn up about a man I never knew? It's sad, but death is always sad. And the death of a young man with promise in his field is always a bit tragic.

It really seems surreal to me. I read about it today on an entertainment blog, it seemed wrong to place an article about death on a shockingly bright pink page.

I was talking to one of my friends about it, she said that it was just his time. "We all have due dates", were her exact words. It got me thinking about my own life. If my due date were today, what would I have to show for it? Not much of any real value. I spend so much of my life thinking about myself, thinking about what I want to do, I never take enough time to think about others. It's made me rethink my choices in life.

I know that I shock people when I say that I am thinking about going into theology, maybe into missions. I spent so many years working towards an acting career, or at least focusing on that goal. To make such an abrupt switch, it may seem a little crazy. However, I want to make sure that at the end of my life I'll have done something worth doing.

Breakfast

I like the word breakfast, to break the fast. But the meal itself is unappealing to me.

There is a girl in the next cubicle eating her breakfast while working. She is eating a brioche the size of her head.

It's rather funny.

I kind of wish that my office had tall cubicles, instead of these short little half cubicles. Then I wouldn't have to know what my co-workers are eating for breakfast.

Hullo

Well, here I am.

I haven't been writing lately, online or in my little journal. I keep noting things mentally that I want to write down and ponder; the absurdity of paper money, the differences between the vocalizations of Gordon MacRae and Hugh Jackman in the role of Curly, the woes of caffeine deprivation, and other such topics.

However, now that I'm writing I don't much feel like talking about any of those things.

I notice that people tend to write text messages the way that they talk. I think it's the same with blogs. I usually speak in a rather roundabout way, I like words, and I use more than I need to convey my points. In other words, I am not a very concise speaker. I do the same thing when I write blogs. I just sort of let my thoughts ramble about and often trample back over the same point again and again, sort of like a wild romp about the moor where you keep passing the same little clump of heather next to the same weather beaten rock, but you have a lovely time all the same. I have never been to the moor, but I have read a great deal about it, and feel as though it would be rather nice.