Life is busy right now. It's good, it is, just busy. There aren't enough hours in the day for me to get done what I need to do.
I work my 5 days of the week and then plan out the two off strategically, or book off for appointments and such.
There are so many people I want to see while home and certain people that I keep pushing off and I feel terrible about but like this week, my best friend is leaving for Peru on tuesday so I had to see her before then. My best guy friend since birth will be home for 2 days and I need to see him, I haven't been in my own bed since Thursday and I picked up some insane sickness on Wednesday that I still haven't been able to shake.
It's just all too much for me right now, I'm struggling to find the pause button or something to slow life down. I'm tired, I'm exhausted, I'm run down. I need rest.
rest.
where are you?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Beautiful things
This song is what I need right now. I first stumbled upon the Michael Gungor band for their song "White Man" which is just a great tongue in cheek song, the things that need to be said. I believe the band may have changed to just Gungor now (?) But I listen to their myspace player often and should invest in a cd when I can. The song that has been stuck in my head, the song on my heart, I just read the lyrics too and they are wonderful. Let me share
Beautiful Things
All this pain
I wonder if I’ll even find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
Beautiful Things
All this pain
I wonder if I’ll even find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
I don't want to complain about this heat, because I love the warmth and summer and we've been waiting for it SO long, even though this week has just been ridiculous especially having to work outside all day.
So, I'll talk about something else.
I got my hair all cut off. My mother and I both did actually, it was a nice relief in this heat, though I must say I took a mild panic attack in the chair because my mother used to be a hairdresser, and has only allowed two other people to cut my hair ever in my life.
Also, I had a poor experience with short hair in high school. So that fear plus a new person touching my hair with scissors was enough to make me dizzy to say the least.
But I do love it, its wildly different, a whole heck of a lot shorter, I look more mature (or so I'm told) and it's way easier in this heat.
I can't say what I really want to say, how I'm really feeling about something at the moment for fear of that person reading this. But I've come to realize once this happens, things are going to change wildly for us. I hope that person is ready for what is coming.
So, I'll talk about something else.
I got my hair all cut off. My mother and I both did actually, it was a nice relief in this heat, though I must say I took a mild panic attack in the chair because my mother used to be a hairdresser, and has only allowed two other people to cut my hair ever in my life.
Also, I had a poor experience with short hair in high school. So that fear plus a new person touching my hair with scissors was enough to make me dizzy to say the least.
But I do love it, its wildly different, a whole heck of a lot shorter, I look more mature (or so I'm told) and it's way easier in this heat.
I can't say what I really want to say, how I'm really feeling about something at the moment for fear of that person reading this. But I've come to realize once this happens, things are going to change wildly for us. I hope that person is ready for what is coming.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Read
It never ceases to amaze me how different some people can be.
It's very interesting to analyze our personality similarities and differences against those people we have been friends with our entire lives. It's an interesting dynamic in comparrison to newer friends. I've gone off to university and made plenty of friends based on common interests or social circles. We know we have things in common. I've met a lot of people in my program. I've met a lot of people through church or around the area.
Then I come home, post graduation and hit this weird state of elasticity. I feel as if my heart is stretched between both places moreso now than ever before. My heart is here, Home, the place I was raised, the house I've lived in as long as I can remember. Here is where my church is that I have attended since the first grade, where I met my best friends. This is where the three of them live, and of course my family.
But there, there is home too. There is the opposite, its the most "city" I've ever known. I love being able to walk places, all the time, everywhere. My poor car only leaves the lane if I'm on a time crunch or are uncertain of which buses take me. Generally, I walk. I look around, I discover newness everywhere. Also I have those friends, those wonderful friends I've made out of necessity, they fill a need in my life, a need that is now a void, now that I'm back here.
Don't take me wrong, I love my best friends for a reason. Because I know they will always be my best friends, no matter where I go. But there's a void in our personality differences that is sometimes difficult.
Case in point: I went over to my all time best friends house last night, you know, the home that's your home, the parents that are your parents, the brother that is your brother. That kind of home. My best friend admitted to me the other day (and I cant believe I'd never really noticed) that she had read one book in her entire life. Now, I'm an english major, I buy books like they are going out of style. I'd rather buy books than food. I went to a used bookstore twice in a week and spent more than 50 both visits, and this is a USED bookstore people, that means they cost like 10 at the most. yup.
So I decided I was going to get her reading. She admitted to me, "I just dont know which books to read". Which I think may be true of everyone who says they dont like to read, they just dont know the right books. So I went through my hideaways of books, in my bedroom at least, in my tv table, on my dressers, on the tiny bookshelf, in the closet, under the bed (I have lots of books) and pulled out 5 for her. We will see how they go. Also, the one book she'd ever read I recommended for her highschool ISU.
We went back to her house and I told her parents that I had gotten her reading to which they admitted they too never ever read. Excuse me? You are adults, you should know better. Her mother said, "I'll read something educational, but fiction is a waste of time". I think everyone can see the fallacy in this statement. There is never a time when you are reading and not learning, unless of course you are reading twilight. You know what, I may even be at the point where I'd make the statement I'd rather a person read twilight than not read at all. Weird.
But my point is, you break my heart when you say you don't read because it's boring or you don't learn anything or it's a waste of time. Find a book, there's a book out there for everyone, a style, an author, a genre that will peak your interest and teach you and engage you in ways other mediums can't. Read.
It's very interesting to analyze our personality similarities and differences against those people we have been friends with our entire lives. It's an interesting dynamic in comparrison to newer friends. I've gone off to university and made plenty of friends based on common interests or social circles. We know we have things in common. I've met a lot of people in my program. I've met a lot of people through church or around the area.
Then I come home, post graduation and hit this weird state of elasticity. I feel as if my heart is stretched between both places moreso now than ever before. My heart is here, Home, the place I was raised, the house I've lived in as long as I can remember. Here is where my church is that I have attended since the first grade, where I met my best friends. This is where the three of them live, and of course my family.
But there, there is home too. There is the opposite, its the most "city" I've ever known. I love being able to walk places, all the time, everywhere. My poor car only leaves the lane if I'm on a time crunch or are uncertain of which buses take me. Generally, I walk. I look around, I discover newness everywhere. Also I have those friends, those wonderful friends I've made out of necessity, they fill a need in my life, a need that is now a void, now that I'm back here.
Don't take me wrong, I love my best friends for a reason. Because I know they will always be my best friends, no matter where I go. But there's a void in our personality differences that is sometimes difficult.
Case in point: I went over to my all time best friends house last night, you know, the home that's your home, the parents that are your parents, the brother that is your brother. That kind of home. My best friend admitted to me the other day (and I cant believe I'd never really noticed) that she had read one book in her entire life. Now, I'm an english major, I buy books like they are going out of style. I'd rather buy books than food. I went to a used bookstore twice in a week and spent more than 50 both visits, and this is a USED bookstore people, that means they cost like 10 at the most. yup.
So I decided I was going to get her reading. She admitted to me, "I just dont know which books to read". Which I think may be true of everyone who says they dont like to read, they just dont know the right books. So I went through my hideaways of books, in my bedroom at least, in my tv table, on my dressers, on the tiny bookshelf, in the closet, under the bed (I have lots of books) and pulled out 5 for her. We will see how they go. Also, the one book she'd ever read I recommended for her highschool ISU.
We went back to her house and I told her parents that I had gotten her reading to which they admitted they too never ever read. Excuse me? You are adults, you should know better. Her mother said, "I'll read something educational, but fiction is a waste of time". I think everyone can see the fallacy in this statement. There is never a time when you are reading and not learning, unless of course you are reading twilight. You know what, I may even be at the point where I'd make the statement I'd rather a person read twilight than not read at all. Weird.
But my point is, you break my heart when you say you don't read because it's boring or you don't learn anything or it's a waste of time. Find a book, there's a book out there for everyone, a style, an author, a genre that will peak your interest and teach you and engage you in ways other mediums can't. Read.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Sizes.
I swear we buy and wear clothes as if the label is printed in large bold letters repeatedly all over the item. We are so caught up in sizes that people wear clothes that they've clearly had to fight to get into, with flesh attempting to escape in any way possible. But the important part is that it said SM on the tag. Or it was a smaller number! Only we know of course but doesn't it feel good.
Well let me tell you, it doesn't look good.
I never thought about how ridiculous this way. I guess it has something to do with our cultures "ability" to shape our bodies and change them when we are less than satisfied. Because let's remember the parts of our bodies that cannot be changed. We have no problem with size shifting there.
Let me tell you the story.
So I was trying on shoes today, my size is about a 6-7 range. I tend to wear a 6.5, which is fairly small on average (the only thing I'd label as "small" on my body) and I found the 6 was WAY too tight. They are cute little sandals, a nice brown leather with turqouise beading, but they were too tight or something on the widest part of my foot. So I tried on the 7, same problem. I had to purchase an 8, AN EIGHT! I have never worn an 8 in my LIFE. Oh the outrage, Oh the horror, Oh the SHOCK! The diet starts immediately, let me tell you...
Oh wait. It's feet. Feet can't be changed. It is what it is. My feet are just wider in spots, thinner in others, really high arches and a second toe that curves along the way. But I love my feet. Size is just a number, I just had to keep trying on pairs until one fit. FIT. This is the key word, not Small, Medium or Large OR 7, 8, or 9. But fit.
Our bodies are our bodies. They are all different, size is just relative. You will always be smaller than someone else, larger than someone else. It just is what it is. Love your body, buy clothes that fit.
That's all I ask.
I swear we buy and wear clothes as if the label is printed in large bold letters repeatedly all over the item. We are so caught up in sizes that people wear clothes that they've clearly had to fight to get into, with flesh attempting to escape in any way possible. But the important part is that it said SM on the tag. Or it was a smaller number! Only we know of course but doesn't it feel good.
Well let me tell you, it doesn't look good.
I never thought about how ridiculous this way. I guess it has something to do with our cultures "ability" to shape our bodies and change them when we are less than satisfied. Because let's remember the parts of our bodies that cannot be changed. We have no problem with size shifting there.
Let me tell you the story.
So I was trying on shoes today, my size is about a 6-7 range. I tend to wear a 6.5, which is fairly small on average (the only thing I'd label as "small" on my body) and I found the 6 was WAY too tight. They are cute little sandals, a nice brown leather with turqouise beading, but they were too tight or something on the widest part of my foot. So I tried on the 7, same problem. I had to purchase an 8, AN EIGHT! I have never worn an 8 in my LIFE. Oh the outrage, Oh the horror, Oh the SHOCK! The diet starts immediately, let me tell you...
Oh wait. It's feet. Feet can't be changed. It is what it is. My feet are just wider in spots, thinner in others, really high arches and a second toe that curves along the way. But I love my feet. Size is just a number, I just had to keep trying on pairs until one fit. FIT. This is the key word, not Small, Medium or Large OR 7, 8, or 9. But fit.
Our bodies are our bodies. They are all different, size is just relative. You will always be smaller than someone else, larger than someone else. It just is what it is. Love your body, buy clothes that fit.
That's all I ask.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
There are certain things you learn by stumbling across them. One of those is allergies.
Something I recently learned I was allergic to is Tide to Go pens. I had dropped half a cherry on my white shirt, so I used the pen, which I ALWAYS use, without thinking twice. I left the house right after. Not long after my stomach felt very ichy, I lifted my shirt to see a massive red patch of tiny dots right where I'd used the pen.
Still, to this day, nearly a week later, a little red line of dots exists.
Interesting.
Something I recently learned I was allergic to is Tide to Go pens. I had dropped half a cherry on my white shirt, so I used the pen, which I ALWAYS use, without thinking twice. I left the house right after. Not long after my stomach felt very ichy, I lifted my shirt to see a massive red patch of tiny dots right where I'd used the pen.
Still, to this day, nearly a week later, a little red line of dots exists.
Interesting.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
I've come to acknowledge that I have a need to create.
I wonder if this rings true for most? The more I observe the more I understand that it may just be a select few of us.
Creating can come in many forms, situation specific. For me it can include writing, painting, cooking. I'd also like to include things like exercise, swimming and dancing into the mix, though these things don't exactly have a physical, tangible finished "product" I still feel whole and as if I'm expressing myself.
I need to create to live. I get feeling so blah and stuck in a rut. I spend life ticking the things off my daily checklist and go to bed unsatisfied. Somehow, reading and writing- things I would easily qualify as my favourite in terms of interests- always get shoved to the bottom of my to do list. Groceries, cleaning, laundry, all these things, things I don't want to do and therefore take more time, come first.
Yesterday I dedicated my day to creative endeavours. I painted, I explored, I read, I cooked. But I also realized this is something I'm doing for me and others may not understand. It's a me moment. This harsh realization came about when an unnamed person (because I really do love this person but hated them in this moment) came upon me painting and used that terrible terrible diminuitive and dismissive word when he/she said, "Oh, that's cute."
Side Note: Cute is a terrible word. You may use it for people's babies or small puppies or something of the like, but just as a rule of thumb, don't use it. It does no good.
Oh, and then he/she continued to talk to me and stare at me while I painted. Can't you see I'm doing ME?! Apparently not. But that's okay. Let it go, right? People won't always get it. I think I'm okay with that.
I wonder if this rings true for most? The more I observe the more I understand that it may just be a select few of us.
Creating can come in many forms, situation specific. For me it can include writing, painting, cooking. I'd also like to include things like exercise, swimming and dancing into the mix, though these things don't exactly have a physical, tangible finished "product" I still feel whole and as if I'm expressing myself.
I need to create to live. I get feeling so blah and stuck in a rut. I spend life ticking the things off my daily checklist and go to bed unsatisfied. Somehow, reading and writing- things I would easily qualify as my favourite in terms of interests- always get shoved to the bottom of my to do list. Groceries, cleaning, laundry, all these things, things I don't want to do and therefore take more time, come first.
Yesterday I dedicated my day to creative endeavours. I painted, I explored, I read, I cooked. But I also realized this is something I'm doing for me and others may not understand. It's a me moment. This harsh realization came about when an unnamed person (because I really do love this person but hated them in this moment) came upon me painting and used that terrible terrible diminuitive and dismissive word when he/she said, "Oh, that's cute."
Side Note: Cute is a terrible word. You may use it for people's babies or small puppies or something of the like, but just as a rule of thumb, don't use it. It does no good.
Oh, and then he/she continued to talk to me and stare at me while I painted. Can't you see I'm doing ME?! Apparently not. But that's okay. Let it go, right? People won't always get it. I think I'm okay with that.
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