poem

Newness;
fall leaf unfurled,
a place to call home.

Spirituality;
a vision, a lull,
a strange dance unknown.

Family;
a strong, heartfelt pull,
a journey-not alone.

nervous nelly

Man I hope this is the right decision. It felt right at first, but now I'm not so sure. I think I'm just overthinking this. All I can do now is be happy where I am, learn about myself, be content and ready for the next adventure. I have to believe this is right, that something good will come of this, that making a difference in a kid's life is more important than a big successful career in a big city. I guess I'm just nervous about how its all going to come out. The control factor... it's killing me.

restlessness

I'm not sure the exact date that it started. I've moved seven times in about four years. I can't be still. I'm always looking for that one thing that will satisfy me. It's like a sickness that permeates the bones. A drug that manifests itself in inhuman ways. Restlessness....
My internal exploration of this subject goes back many years. Has this always been a part of me? Was this something that just happened or did I allow it to fester and grow within me? How do I make it go away???
More than anything I want to be content. I'm a type "A" melancholy personality who longs to be a happy go lucky Type "B." Maybe therein lies the problem. I can't embrace myself for all the flaws I see.
It's like I experience a rainbow of emotions every day. I'm scared about the move and the different lifestyle I will encounter. I'm excited about being close to family. I'm overjoyed to have solitude, peace, quiet, and close friends. I'm nervous about continuing my education and beginning a new career. I'm sad about leaving the place Shawn and I have called home for the past six months... the first half year of our marriage. This city will always hold memories for us...good and bad.
But, during my last week of work, a conversation with a friend solidified the positives of the move for me, and left me feeling like maybe I have learned a little about myself in this whirlwind of a life. In the end, it's not about money, not about feeling discouraged that people don't understand you for who you are. It's not about a successfull career. It's not about your name on a plaque. It's not about the adventures you can brag about to your friends. It's about being happy with who you are and who you're with. And I want to find that. I know I didn't reveal all of myself while I was here, and I certainly have some regrets. (Makes me want to write a book for the newlyweds out there. Maybe in a few years when I have some wisdom under my belt.)But I did learn that I crave creativity and independence... a type of independence that's internal, not external, and that I crave environments that foster that in me. I'm useless without it- a couch potato, a robot. And that doesn't make me very happy at all.
But I'm determined to end this blog on a positive note, so I'll use someone else's words for that: "New discoveries consist not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes..." ~Marcel Proust
Now that's a lesson we all could learn about contentment. :)

out of sorts

I've been feeling a little out of sorts today. Not sick, just really tired. I've been thinking too much again. I kind of feel like I've been on one of those rollercoasters like old school Mr. Freeze that goes from 0-60 in three seconds. Or like I'm caught up in a windstorm and my feet can't touch the ground.
Seems like lots of my friends have such good careers, or are in graduate school or have awesome plans for their lives.
I'm moving back to Nacogdoches, and I'm struggling with the same stuff I always do. Who am I really? Someone who wants a simple life, laid back, enjoying friends and relationships, conversations, and family? Or do I want a fast paced life, feeling intelligent, successfull and making lots of money? I feel like I am capable of a fast paced life, and it seems attractive, but am I really drawn to something simpler? Something people here just don't seem to understand?
I am about to get into a teaching program, and will begin teaching middle school english this spring. I am so scared. Scared that ten years will go by and I'll realize that I've lived out none of my dreams. Scared that I will get stuck in one place with no creativity and no ambition, just making money to get by...
I'm still young, I still want to do so many things, and sometimes I just feel so bogged down by, I guess, reality... for lack of a better word. I just feel like I could do so much, but that I'm settling. I want to do something that is my passion, something that I'm good at, but all I really end up doing is hopping from job to dead-end job, finding nothing that will ease my restlessness.
I know I want a few things that Nacogdoches will allow me to have:
1. Spending more time with Shawn
2. Spending more time with family
3. Exploring creative outlets
4. Spending more time with friends
5. Becomming more confident as an adult and with my career
6. Being close to a university
7. being in a more laid-back, simpler environemnt which challenges me to stop and think
8. Being more relaxed

I just pray to God that I will find something that interests and challenges me soon... because right now it all just feels like such a waste. I won't mind living in a small town, as long as I don't have to be there forever and can do something that I love with those that I care about. Please, God, I just don't want to settle.

Fall

Hazy,spicy air
nostalgic notations
Wrestling matches,
mingled with smoke
Waxy perfect goodness
Cold grass under naked toes
Backlit sunset of Autumn...
Fall

Not Here

This is what I've figured out today...
1. Four years spent in college and it didn't make me more decisive on what I want to do for a career.I just got really good at studying.
For me, I have to be passionate about what I do. Not just do it for the paycheck. At the end of the day I have to feel like I gave back somehow.
2. I don't like big cities. To visit, yes, but not to live in. I despise smog, suits, crime, getting lost, and traffic just makes me nervous and angry.
And.. I like trees, and going swimming in ponds. And country food. And porch swings.
3. This doesn't feel like home. While I was daydreaming at work today, I envisioned home and I envisoned a house with lots of land. I dreamed of watching the sunset through the trees, going to festivals with friends, decorating for holidays with family. When I thought of home, I thought of Nacogdoches, not here.
4. I'm not as tough or "worldy" as I wanted to be- I thought I could be away from home and not miss it. I thought I could travel the world out of college. I thought I could be a corporate executive and climb the corporate ladder -not spend my time wishing I was somewhere else. I thought I could sell stuff without feeling like I'm giving up a piece of my soul. I thought being married would take the place of needing girlfriends. I thought busyness could take the place of quiet and solitute.

I still have a lot to think about, but i think I'm headed in the right direction.

melancholy

I think I am a sadness reveler. Always finding something I don't like or didn't expect in a certain "moment" of my life. In middle school I couldn't wait to get to high school (who doesn't? 7th and 8th grade just sucked). In high school, I had fun, but I couldn't wait to experience the freedom of college...well in college, the freedom that I waited for kind of knocked me over. It took me a while to recover from that one. I couldn't wait to be with Shawn... I couldn't wait to move away from nac and live somewhere new. Now I'm struggling to find positive things about Austin. It just makes me want to kick myself in the ass sometimes. Why can't I just live and let live, enjoy, and experience?
And then I thought, maybe I'm not a joykiller, maybe I'm just a dreamer with dreamy nostalgic expectations about what every phase in my life will be like. And then when reality really hits, and I come back from cloud nine, it kind of equals a big slap in the face.
I know I have a melancholy personality...I'm a thinker, a dreamer, I feel confined when I am not challenged intellectually, physically or emotionally. I know I longed for this day when i didn't have to think about school or bust my brain on some research paper... but i realized I kind of liked it, all the hustle and bustle and the late hours and then getting a much deserved A in the class.
It's not what I thought it would be like here... I thought I would find an outlet, some fellow dreamers, some free-thinking friends... but I find myself losing myself and becoming more and more restless as my days seem all the same.
It may seem depressing what I have written here, but I write from my soul, and this, like I said, is one of my only outlets as of right now. this is what my soul feels, and I won't censor it.
I'm not really sure what I'm looking for... all I know is that for once in my life I don't have things planned out, and it frustrates me. This is probably one of those learning experiences, but I havne't figured out what I'm learning yet. Meanwhile... I'll just take my frustration out in words... it's what I do best.

New Job

New Job and New Home
Written in March:
Shawn and I finally settled on a place to live. We decided that if we had to be relegated to Texas then we would live in Austin. In the month that followed that decision, Shawn went on several interviews and scored a job in Austin. He stayed with my cousins for three weeks until I went to visit him during spring break. My sole purpose of the break was to find an apartment for us, which I did. It took a little longer than I expected to move in, but Shawn moved in a week later after I had already returned to Nac. Our apartment is small, in north Austin, about 20-30 minutes away from down town. I really like it. And I think I’ll like it even more when we actually get to put the things we got at the shower this weekend (april 5)in it. After Shawn moved to Austin, I attended a job fair at SFA. I spoke to a few recruiters, but the one that seemed the most promising was White Lodging, a hotel management company I had never heard about before. They invited me to go on an interview the next day. That night I debated whether or not I should go to the interview. I was still debating on what I wanted to do with my life and I knew little about the company. I ended up going anyway. I was pleased with what I learned and was invited to a second and final interview in Austin at the end of March. There, the three recruits of SFA(cream of the crop I was later told) would meet and greet GMs of several open positions with the company. I drove to Austin that weekend with anticipation. I was nervous. I had never been on a formal interview before, let alone one where I had to meet, initiate and pursue conversations with Managers about subjects that I knew little about. I was shaking by the time I got to the hotel. I arrived in the room full of recruits and managers. To my surprise, I was the only one not wearing a suit. I immediately felt self-conscious, but pulled myself together and began talking with a few managers that had just walked into the room. Our early conversations were mostly surface level, but as the night wore on and the drinks kicked in, everyone got more comfortable with one another. I was able to identify with quite a few of the managers and ask the questions that I wanted. I even got a few of their business cards. The “meet and greet” lasted much longer than I expected, but the time went by fast, and I was given an interview time of 8:00am the following morning. The night I spent in the hotel was long, and I was eager for morning. The next morning I went to the interview, bedecked in my new $30 jacket coat I had found on sale at JC Penny’s the night before. I wanted to look my best, and give myself the most edge I could. The interview went well; I did the best that I could, communicated who I was, but wasn’t sure whether or not I had the job. We toured several more close hotels and were sent home. I was told that the interview process would take up to two weeks. They called me the next day. They flattered me with compliments and it turns out that the woman who I had sought out the night before was my contact person. She had started out in event planning which I what I want to do. Though they didn’t have an exact place for me, they still wanted me and promised to start me at the front desk where I would cross train and eventually move up to management in a short amount of time. I was thrilled!!!The job would offer a lot of security and I didn’t have to worry about it anymore! They even delayed my start date to July 7th so I would have time to plan the wedding , get married, go on the honeymoon, and move in. I’m so glad they were compassionate! I am very impressed with the company and their honesty and friendliness. I think it will be a good company to work for and get some experience. Though I still want to pursue academics in the future, for now it will be best to get some life experience and earn some money to put away for school and other adventures.
The whole process of deciding to move to Austin and getting the job took less than two months. It kind of feels like an out of body experience. I can see myself doing all these things: planning the wedding, finishing school, going to parties and showers, but I can’t believe it’s me. It’s kind of daunting in a way. My single life is swiftly coming to a close. Not that I regret it, but I feel like when I get married, the responsibility increases. Sacrifices are made and life is put on a track that most people follow. You get married, have a couple of kids, work, and that’s the most of it. Life feels short now, and I’m dealing with that. It felt so long last year. I will have to be an adult and those are some big shoes to fill. I’m not sure I can squeeze my personality into a dress coat with much ease.

Now:
I have moved to another hotel closer to mine and Shawn’s apartment… about ten minutes or less away. I will be a sales coordinator, working for the sales manager and basically doing whatever anyone else wants me to do. I am excited and ready to start! This whole stay at home wife thing does not work for me. 

Marriage is a funny thing

Marriage is a funny thing. A natural thing. A comfortable thing. It’s weird how much it’s built up in American society… so much so that I expected to feel this almost tangible pull towards togetherness and eternity when we said “I do,” but it didn’t happen that way. The ceremony was tender and sweet and intimate, perfect and everything I wanted, but I felt like I was one of a team; we worked together like we always have. There was no magical moment. Sure the night was magical, but I didn’t immediately feel “married” like I expected to. The honeymoon was everything I expected: wonderful, relaxing, memorable… but being married, well, it just feels normal, like we were always supposed to be this way… except that I keep feeling like I will have to leave and go back to Nacogdoches in a few days, but I won’t.
I am trying not to be bogged down by the pressure that says a middle class American wife should be a certain way. I am trying to be myself, learning, living, breathing and loving like I always have. Except that now, I have promised my love, and I have a promise of another to love me back.
I can’t believe that this part of my life has arrived. In some ways, I still feel sixteen, an innocent little girl trying to find her way in a vast world. But in others, I feel old and wizened, ready to take on whatever life throws me. There are no suitable words to express how overjoyed I am to live with a man who has promised his life to me, to care for me and love me every day to the best of his ability. I know that he would do anything for me, and sometimes I feel undeserving of the pure and passionate love that he has for me. I am thankful for such a man that will help in any little way, always thinking of others above himself. I like what my mom said during a toast at our rehearsal dinner : “His heart weights more than he does.” It’s true. Though I feel scared at times of what the future holds for us as a couple, I feel confident that we can handle whatever is thrown our way-together. And I know that we will always have…this.

dissservice

A lot of people have been asking me lately where we will go to church when we move to Austin. Frankly, I just don't know. I can't even imagine a church that will provide the community we need. If it is indeed community that we need and desire. There are so many things that I don't want in a "new" church, if a "church" even constitutes as a building. No small group burger cookouts, bible studies, praise songs, Vacation bible schools. Not that those things are bad, but they just seem so juvenile and insignificant when our whole purpose is to communicate with an almighty God. It feels like we are small children trying to write our doctoral dissertation. We just don't have the words for it. I just feel like I am doing God a disservice sometimes by not being one way or the other. Not totally passionate, but not the opposite either. True, I strive to live out my faith by my actions and not by my words... but I still feel like I have to explain sometimes. Especially if we are to be in a group that discusses theology and such. Someone asked me once if "church" couldn't be befriending someone on the street and living our lives with them. If we claim to see Jesus in people who are not believers, why can't that be so?

I know I want my marriage to be "grounded on faith" whatever that means...it just sounds so childish again, but I'm not sure what that looks like in a non traditional way. Not that I'm trying so hard to push against tradition... I've made my peace with that, I just feel like Christ is a whole other ball game for lack of better words (it really is impossible to write a blog about Him). The life he lived out in the Gospels means more to me than just a bed time story. It's a lifestyle.( I know, cliche again, but I just can't help it... It's ingrained in me) but I don't plan to just live it on Sundays or when I feel like it or when I think I might be being a good example to someone. I know that God is vitally interested in my life, and that he pursues me and communicates with me on a regular basis. That might not look like other people's "quiet times, " but I know he's there and He knows I'm there to talk, so that's okay. We have a "relationship" because I know I've seen evidence of Him in my life (which may be subjective but I don't care) but it just sounds so small and belittling to try to describe a communion with an almighty God as a "relationship" There are not words for it. I promise, I just spent ten minutes trying to think of one. I just hate the fact that people's perceptions of faith and everything are so different that no one can ever agree... and my perception of christ and church and the bible will always be "wrong" to some. I guess it goes both ways, but still...Why did He make it so complicated? Why couldn't we just all believe the same?

seasons

Over the last couple of weeks, I have been saddened by the fact that people who were important to me during college, even this last year, will no longer be in my life. Sure, we can facebook each other, send an e mail or two. But it won't be the same. There are seasons in everyone's life when people filter in an out. That's just how it is. It makes me sad, but I draw strength from the fact that I have learned something from them, just as surely as they have learned something from me. As the old saying goes... "I am apart of everyone I know." or something to that effect.
As much as people filter in an out of our lives, we change too. We each have different seasons that we go through that strengthen and challenge and inspire us in different ways. It's an ever-changing cycle... But a good one, especially when you are aware of it enough to note the seasons, learn from them, and embrace the new ones as they come.

american nightmare

I have often wondered what immigrants to America think they are going to find when they get here. Shady politics? Inflation? Corporate monopolies? I'm afraid that when they arrive in this country, all that greets them is an american nightmare instead of an american dream. I'm sorry, I just find it hard to be patriotic sometimes. It's hard to have support for a country that you have to fight in order to live in any sense of decency. I know I harp on insurance a lot, but really, does it have to be that way? I think people just go along with it because they thing that's how it has to be, but it doesn't. Now, I don't exactly have any ideas on how to change it as of yet, but I do think there is a way.
And what about corporate America? Actually my life is quite ironic. I hate corporate America, but I am forced to live in it and even work in it if I am to live a healthy life. I have to have a job right now that will pay for my life in America. Money is always, always a struggle. Wouldn't it be nice, if, for once, people focused on what you are instead of what you do? Isn't that always the initial question when you first meet someone... Hi. How are you? What do you do? And wouldn't it be nice when a person graduated from college if people asked... What do you want to be? instead of What do you want to do?

Last time

“Last Time”
5/7/08

Lately I have had some thoughts like
Whoa.
Last time to take a test
Last time to stress out over papers
Last time to sell back books
Last time to talk to friends
Last time to see some professors
Last time to sit in the library
Last day at work.
I haven’t had time to catch up
Wait! Slow down!
I need to remember it.
But
sigh
It’s all here.

return to childhood

I had an interesting experience a couple of Mondays ago. I had to get a drug test for my new job. I tried to go last week, but I was unaware that I was not supposed to touch the paper, let alone fill it out in its entirety… which I did. I was told to come back the next day, which was Monday, and I did, after I had to call the corporate offices of White Lodging and shamefully ask for a new form. I went in the office and immediately felt awkward. It was quiet, sterile, and the receptionist stared at me like a convict from behind the glass. She barked, “Sign in.” and backed away from the window. I gave her my form and my ID and went to sit down. I waited for a few seconds while she looked back and forth from me to my ID, supposedly, I guess to verify my identity. After that moment, I wondered what kind of unsavory people she dealt with everyday. I tried to be my sunny self, but to no avail. I felt like I entered the room and revered back to toddlerhood. As I walked into the “collection room” code for a little room with a toilet and an examination table, I was greeted by a string of commands… “stop” “don’t” don’t touch that” Quit it” Stand here” Pee” It was a little humiliating. She proceeded to search me and advised me to put my purse into a cabinet which she locked. She handed me a cup and for one moment of horror, I thought she was about to follow me into the bathroom and hold it for me. Thankfully, she didn’t. I slinked out of the bathroom with a cup of warm liquid in my hand. She barked a few more commands, asked for my signature and saw me out the door. Whew… I promise never to do drugs. I never want to repeat that again.

Being Positive can make you Deny Yourself

Shawn got a job in Austin that he started out liking, but it was hard. So he decided to be positive to make himself get through it. He was positive, but he was also working 70 hour weeks and getting paid as little as $300 and sometime less. In a sense, he was denying who he really was. For what reason, I am not sure, but this weekend he realized that he was not happy with the job. We are both alike in the fact that we are free spirits, and anything that confines our spirit or our ability to think for ourselves makes us unhappy. That’s why I’m so anxious about starting a job in the corporate world. I guess I’ll see if I’m cut out for it. Anyways, being positive in a way can make you deny who you really are. I won’t argue that negativity is not the best way to go either. So many people are pessimistic and have more health problems than positive people. But lying to yourself doesn’t help your health either.
A few weeks later, Shawn quit the job. He was nervous about it, about being without money for a couple of weeks, but I encouraged him to do it because I knew he wasn’t happy. I knew that if he stayed with it, his unhappiness and instability due to his work program would affect our home life. Turns out it was a good thing that he quit- a kind of affirmation, so to say. A couple of days after he quit, his manager and owner of the company was relocated to Canada and the only other reliable person on the team quit as well. I’m not surprised. The company was sketchy and the job was really hard emotionally. Shawn has had a couple of interviews in the last week, and I have no doubt he will find something that he really likes. I’m not worried, but Shawn is. He wants so bad to provide for our needs and make my parents happy. It’s a tough job to do. But I’m proud of him… he’s doing a great job. Right now, all we want is to be a couple and enjoy our life together minus everyone else. It will be great to be married and finally settle for a little while in Austin. I miss him so much when I'm here and he's there. It's just such a let down that I only get to see him for a little while a couple of weekends out of the month. It's weird. I feel one way when he's here and another when he's gone. Not like I'm being a different person, but he makes me so happy. I feel alone when he's gone. I'll be glad when we can be together and I know he will be too. Austin here we come... Then we’ll see where life takes us!

Fragility of life: How marriage makes you feel old and makes life feel short

I had quite a scare last weekend. Shawn surprised me for the shower that we had on April 5th. I was under the assumption that he wouldn’t be in town until late on April 4th, but he arrived around five o’ clock with a bouquet of tulips to surprise me. I was so excited to see him! He always surprises me. I feel like I am a much happier person when he’s around. He just has this way of calming me down and making me feel like everything is ok. Friday night we went out for a few drinks, just the two of us. Saturday morning I woke up and felt fine. About an hour after I woke up, though, I started feeling disoriented and I lay down on the couch. Shawn woke up and noticed my distraction, but didn’t realize what was going on until about 15 minutes later. I was having an insulin reaction. My blood sugar had dropped so low that I no longer could remember things, make conversation or act normally. My heart beat very fast. Shawn advised me to lay down and eat some peanut butter crackers, but I still felt like I couldn’t make sense of anything. Everything felt like a dream; like I was swimming in a dream-like ocean. I knew what was happening in a given moment, but a second later, I forgot it. Later, my blood sugar was still dangerously low, so Shawn drove me to get a coke. After ingesting some sugar, I began to think normally, and I started to cry. I couldn’t remember the last hour or anything that had happened to me. It scared me that I could be caught that off guard. I was frustrated because I am usually able to detect a low- I’ve had diabetes for three years. For some reason, though, that morning I couldn’t. The combination of the early dinner the night before, the alcohol and the increased dosage of insulin I was taken must have taken its toll on my body. I was just glad Shawn was there and knew what to do. Not many people know about the extremes of the disease, especially for Type 1. When I was diagnosed, Shawn took it upon himself to research and educated himself all about the disease. He now knows more about it than some of my family members. He says he researched it because it was a part of me, and he loved every part of me. He realized that if he didn’t know all about it and how to take care of me, he wouldn’t be loving me the best he could, so he did. I am so thankful that he was able to act quickly. When we finally tested my blood glucose after he realized what was happening, it was 34. Normal blood glucose is supposed to be between 70-110. I hadn’t had that bad of a low since I was in the hospital three years ago. I can’t imagine what would have happened if Shawn hadn’t been there.
As I reflect on the situation this weekend, I am overcome with how fragile life is. My life could have been wiped out in an instant. I often think I am so invincible, but I am not. I realize I need to embrace life for what it is and life it as an adventure; not a list that I cross off every now and then. I want to have conversations with people that I have a spiritual connection with, that embrace me and take my hand and tell me that they believe in me. I want to believe that love at first sight truly does exist a lifetime. I want to be sure that I can accomplish my dream and that I can be satisfied as a middle class female adult and not be pressured into a mold that I am not. I want to believe in the extraordinary, the mystical, the phenomenons that not many people believe in. I want to be open minded and encourage people on the spot. I want to reach for a goal and know that I am capable enough to accomplish it.
I want to be so much! I often feel that the institution of marriage is confining and can shorten a person’s life. But I don’t want to be that person.

New Job and New Home

Shawn and I finally settled on a place to live. We decided that if we had to be relegated to Texas then we would live in Austin. In the month that followed that decision, Shawn went on several interviews and scored a job in Austin. He stayed with my cousins for three weeks until I went to visit him during spring break. My sole purpose of the break was to find an apartment for us, which I did. It took a little longer than I expected to move in, but Shawn moved in a week later after I had already returned to Nac. Our apartment is small, in north Austin, about 20-30 minutes away from down town. I really like it. And I think I’ll like it even more when we actually get to put the things we got at the shower this weekend (april 5)in it. After Shawn moved to Austin, I attended a job fair at SFA. I spoke to a few recruiters, but the one that seemed the most promising was White Lodging, a hotel management company I had never heard about before. They invited me to go on an interview the next day. That night I debated whether or not I should go to the interview. I was still debating on what I wanted to do with my life and I knew little about the company. I ended up going anyway. I was pleased with what I learned and was invited to a second and final interview in Austin at the end of March. There, the three recruits of SFA(cream of the crop I was later told) would meet and greet GMs of several open positions with the company. I drove to Austin that weekend with anticipation. I was nervous. I had never been on a formal interview before, let alone one where I had to meet, initiate and pursue conversations with Managers about subjects that I knew little about. I was shaking by the time I got to the hotel. I arrived in the room full of recruits and managers. To my surprise, I was the only one not wearing a suit. I immediately felt self-conscious, but pulled myself together and began talking with a few managers that had just walked into the room. Our early conversations were mostly surface level, but as the night wore on and the drinks kicked in, everyone got more comfortable with one another. I was able to identify with quite a few of the managers and ask the questions that I wanted. I even got a few of their business cards. The “meet and greet” lasted much longer than I expected, but the time went by fast, and I was given an interview time of 8:00am the following morning. The night I spent in the hotel was long, and I was eager for morning. The next morning I went to the interview, bedecked in my new $30 jacket coat I had found on sale at JC Penny’s the night before. I wanted to look my best, and give myself the most edge I could. The interview went well; I did the best that I could, communicated who I was, but wasn’t sure whether or not I had the job. We toured several more close hotels and were sent home. I was told that the interview process would take up to two weeks. They called me the next day. They flattered me with compliments and it turns out that the woman who I had sought out the night before was my contact person. She had started out in event planning which I what I want to do. Though they didn’t have an exact place for me, they still wanted me and promised to start me at the front desk where I would cross train and eventually move up to management in a short amount of time. I was thrilled!!!The job would offer a lot of security and I didn’t have to worry about it anymore! They even delayed my start date to July 7th so I would have time to plan the wedding , get married, go on the honeymoon, and move in. I’m so glad they were compassionate! I am very impressed with the company and their honesty and friendliness. I think it will be a good company to work for and get some experience. Though I still want to pursue academics in the future, for now it will be best to get some life experience and earn some money to put away for school and other adventures.

Life is complicated

Life is complicated. I had an interview with a hotel management company on Friday and Saturday, March 28-29. It was probably the most extensive interview process I’ve been through, but it provided with good experience for later interviews if this job does not work out. I felt confident even though I was the only one there who was a psychology major, and not a hospitality or hotel management major. It was a little intimidating at first, but really, it’s all about talking to people and being confident in who you are. If you can sell yourself and your abilities, it’s pretty much all downhill from there. I’ve never had an interview, though, where I’ve had to dress in business attire or wear a suit (that might not be saying much about my career history  )so it was a little awkward to be so confined in clothing. Same goes for the job. .. I’m just not sure if my free spirit can be confined. It might spring out at any moment’s notice… I’m not the cool and collected business manager type, yet. But do I want to be? My biggest frustration with growing up, entering the real world and graduating from college is that I have to have a job just to have a job. I feel pressure from all sides of my upbringing. My parents want me to have a job that is responsible, a real job that will look good to other people; my professors want me to continue on with my education, others recommend that I just get some kind of 9-5 experience. I just hate that I have to have a job just to have a job, and that Shawn has to have one as well. When I thought about us living in Austin, I thought about all the opportunities to pursue art and music and take other classes and hang out with different people. I’m not sure now that we’re going to have time for that, and it’s frustrating. I just don’t think I can spent 50 years of my working life in a 9-5 job just so I can have benefits, or just so I can have this amount of money, or just so I can look good in the eyes of others. The other side of the coin is that I have a degree; Shawn and I are both capable of academic jobs, but they require more school and school requires money that we don’t have yet. So, we have to have a job to get money to do anything else that we want to do in life. And the jobs we have, have to be an entry level position, even though we have a degree because we don’t have any experience. I feel like I could do so much… but I feel like I’m limited in a sense and frustrated because I can’t do what I want. Heck, I would work at starbuck’s all day if I could, if it meant that I could meet people and be involved in things other than work. I just don’t want my enlightenment from life to end. I don’t want to get stuck, sucked into a job that drains me of all desire to do things that I want to do. It just doesn’t make sense and it’s frustrating . I can’t stand the thought that this might be it.

the end of an era

I can't believe I just spent nine days in Austin. It was amazing. No schedules, no agenda... a lot of people and hippies and exploring and music. My kind of spring break. Spring Break started with a wedding, though, that was very emotional. And I didn't expect it to be. One of Shawn's good friends got married last Saturday. Throughout the wedding, I couldn't stop crying. It didn't hit me until later, when I realized that Shawn had been crying too... Of course he didn't have mascara running down his face or a kleenex in his purse, but boys are good like that I guess.
It's the end of an era. The end of college. All Shawn's friends (who are my friends too) are getting married, moving on, doing their own thing, etc. There's no more cabin, no more cookouts, no more pranks. It's weird and I didn't realize it until this week. It kind of snuck up on me. I've spent a week stewing on this post so I could explain it in terms that other people could understand.
We're getting married in two and a half months. That's insane. And I'm scared. Not about the wedding part or the living together part, no. About other things. The fact that we are about to mesh two lives together, the fact that I am about to lose my singleness and partly my individuality. I'm not saying that married people are not individuals, but losing a part of oneself to accomodate the other does come with the territory. Now let me get this straight. I would not trade anything for Shawn or the fact that I am about to spend my life with the most wonderful man ever. This is the life I chose and I would choose it again a thousand times over. I'm just saying that I don't want to lose myself. I don't want to let go of my dreams or quirks or things that make me me. I want to continue to write music, to dance barefoot, to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, to paint and draw and dream about living in Africa. I don't want to wake up twenty years from now in a big house with two cars, three kids and wonder what happened. I don't want to get married and that be it; I don't want the adventures to stop. I don't want to get caught up in the corporate American dream scheme. You can make a lot of money, but you might be wasting the best years of your life.
When we first started talking marriage, I was just focused on the fact that with Shawn, we could make a life for ourselves and get away from Nacogdoches. He would be my partner in crime. We would explore the world. Of course, my dreams are not reality, at least not right now. No one prepares you for the time period before marriage and marriage itself. No one tells you what to expect because each person is different. Sure, people can give you advice and hints, but they don't know you or the other person as intimately as you do. Think about dating. Actually, it's an awful precursor to marriage in one sense. You can date whoever you want, and when you get tired of them, you can drop them. Not so in marriage. You are married for life. Wierd, huh?
I'm glad, in part, that our engagement was so long. I was mad at first, I mean, we've been talking seriously about marriage since the Spring of 2006, but I think I needed this time for it all to sink in. I need a lot of time for things to make sense to me. Any time less than six months would have been too short, and I wouldn't have been able to sort it all out.
It's taken me a long time this semester to realize the direction my life is going. I'm frustrated in part because I haven't yet acheived the goals and dreams that I set for myself so long ago. I'm not in the place that I thought I would be in. Strangely that's okay with me. I know they will come with time and the aquisition of wisdom. But that's just it. You can't plan. Life doesn't work that way. I love the direction I'm headed and I'm content to just let it play out, and know that in time, I will acheive my dreams and strive to never lose the essence of myself.

vice

This is a very overwhelming feeling. I can’t decide if I feel anger, pity, remorse, or grief… or maybe a combination of them all. If it wasn’t for this chronic disease, we could have accomplished some very unique and great things together…

If only if it wasn’t for this disease.

Now I’m stuck. That’s all I think about. That’s what determines where I will live, what job I will have, and ultimately even how long I will live. The dream of happy nomadic travel and exotic destinations and people is no more. I feel like the expectations of life that I had when I was a youth are trivial and meaningless. I remember when I was fifteen and invincible. Life stretched out infinitely in front of me. I was giddy with the possibilities. Now It seems like I’m stuck in a vice grip so tight… The fear of limitations immobilizes me.

It’s not like I was promiscuous or unhealthy or irresponsible. I didn’t deserve it. I see no reason for its existence. It’s like a blood sucking parasite that just needed a host to inhabit. It drains me and everyone else that I love. It shatters dreams; it causes undue stress. My heart breaks for the loved ones that are subjected to this horrible monster. I wish it wasn’t a part of me, but it is. Kind of like a package deal you didn’t ask for. I feel guilty and I wish I could make it go away…I would do anything to make it go away…

But I can’t.

I was never meant to be a nomad

I was never meant to be a nomad, for sure. What with all the complications of chronic illnesses, access to meds and insurance, I'm destined to be a one-place- lifer. This comes as a shock and frustrating revelation to me. I've always wanted to travel. Especially after last summer. I lived with more nomads than you could count. They had absolutely nothing... but they seemed so happy. They knew what it meant to be non-materialistic and baske in good and uncomplicated simplicity. I wish things were different, you know? But I guess that will never get me anywhere. Is freedom really free?

Sometimes

Sometimes I don't really know what I'm doing. Here I am, graduating in a few months, and I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Sometimes I think college is stupid. Not because I regret what I've learned and what I've experienced and who I've made friends with, but because I've spent four years of my life learning and studying and, excuse me, but quite literally busting my ass to get through. And now I'm stuck. I was one of the lucky few who chose to major in a liberal arts degree, and now I either have to spent a lot of money on grad school or go into a entry level job somewhere that I hate. I just don't believe in that. I don't believe that you should spend so many years of your life doing what you want(because I majored in psychology because I liked it, because I wanted to learn... not because I wanted to make lots of money or become famous)and then you get out into the so-called "real world" and have nothing to show for it. Even now I'm regretting not joining some prestigious honors societies because I know that would look good on my resume. But really, what does that show? That I'm good at B.S ing and answering lame questions and sucking up to people? (BTW, my resume looks pretty lame itself right now, so maybe I should have joined some of those suck-up societies...)I just really believe with my whole heart that a person should always do something that they love. I hate this dependence on finances. Money and status is everything in this country and I'm realizing it more and more every day. I just wish people could hold me accountable, and when they find out that I'm stuck in a dead-end entry-level job, they would call me out and say, "Hey, is this what you love? Is this what stimulates your mind and makes you feel free?"
In the words of Dwayne from Little Miss Sunshine... "F school, F college, they're all beauty pageants... Do what you love and that's all that matters..."

Hidden Talents of the Pious Few

It has come to my attention, recently, that I have some aquaintances that have certain "abilities" or "gifts," if you will. Rumor has it that they "heal" certain friends of theirs of any addicting maladies... or just because they want to inflict discomfort on proud or lie-telling members of the male sex. Boyfriends and husbands beware! The process goes a little like this: A female friend comes crying into work one day, wounded and heart-broken by yet another boy. This woman decides to get revenge. So she prays that these certain males or annoying friends will receive the blessing of discomfort-causing illnesses or minor complications. She has been know to cause heart-breaking boys genital "itching" of thier most prized possessions, diarrea to a gluttonous, over-indulging alcoholics and curses of various other sorts. Now, we all believe in the power of prayer... I've just never seen God work so quickly in such a malicious manner. Truly, this woman's prayers (or curses) seem to occur the day following her heavenly request. It seems that God himself has a funny bone, indeed. Maybe she is one of His revenge-serving angels, sent to earth to remind each mindless male or grungy glutton of his certain demise (or embarrassment) if he steps over the line. I just know I don't want to cross her. And I know that if I ever come down with something, genital itching, hives, or a random black eye, I'll know who to blame.

Church Quirks

It's been a trying week. What with getting dropped from one of my jobs (mind you, I wasn't fired) and some of my life dreams being crushed to pieces, I just feel like I want to bundle up in a big quilt and gorge myself on red wine and chocolate. Or throw something. Or shred paper in to tiny little pieces in my rage. Why doesn't life go according to my plan? In an effort to preserve my sanity and surround myself with an uplifting group of others who may believe the same way I do, I went to church. Church formerly was a comfort blanket to me. No more, but I still desire to find a community of real believers who live real lives and live in the real world. Churches have funny quirks. For example... the second verse of hymns is lost to church-goers... especially Southern Baptists. I'm not sure if at one time it was deemed "evil" or "sinful" or overlooked for some other reason, but no one ever sings it. And why do churches, especially small ones, feel the need to decorate their sanctuary in the scheme of one color? You know what I mean- the walls are blue, the pews are blue, even the carpet is blue. I feel like I'm swimming in a dolphin tank. And why, for the love of god, do churches insist on giving people personality quizzes entitled: "Find your Spiritual Gifts in 20 Minutes!" What??? I could comment, but I won't. Despite all these faults that I see, I still long for a church community to call my own. "Why?" I ask myself. Is it because I was brought up on church for so long, and it's so engrained in me that I can't bring myself to stay away for long? Like I've been programmed to want to go to church and my Sunday feels empty if I don't go? Is it because it is a weekly(or few times weekly) outing for most of the people that I know? Or is it for a deeper reason? Some engrained longing or draw to a relationship with Someone or Something that can make us feel like we have a purpose in this crazed world we live in? I'm not sure of the answer, but I know I want it. I want to feel apart of a group of people who will enfold me in their arms, hold me close, an whisper lovingly that I've done alright in this life. Even if they do smell funny or bring big pots of surprises for lunch every Sunday.I think that may be why they call it Pot "Luck"...

Bogus

I think the system of learning is bogus. At least how we have it set up right now. The other day, I bought two books for a whopping total of $212. Now, that just doesn't sit well with me. Why do we need to shell out unnecessary amounts for those books? Oh, to get an "A" in the class. Because without the books, "they" the teachers, or the college or the bookstore(maybe they all have a collective deal on how they can steal money from college students)make it impossible to get an "A." And why do we need an "A?" To get a good GPA (mostly to make you look good in the eyes of other people, not to warrant your own success). And why else should we have a good GPA? OH, to get into another university or graduate school that only requires you to pay more money for more books to get a good grade and all for what????? Who is going to remember your GPA after you walk across the stage for graduation? This is just whack.I think the real killer here is that American society has forced this mindset on us that we should prepared for everything. You may decide after years of school and college that you don't want to get a graduate degree. But you do it anyways, just in case. More money, more time. It's just an endless cycle.

Hyper-Christians

Coffee is not a good idea for me. Over the years I've become more sensitive to caffeiene, I think. Just today, I had sixteen ounces of an oh-so-blissful-tasting frozen espresso drink that just about did me in. I feel like I've been on speed all day. This is a good feeling if you have to complete massive amounts of paper work or dig a really deep hole, but not good if all you are doing is sitting in class...shaking and foaming at the mouth from caffeination. It really doesn't look good. It makes you look crazy, and then your professors don't trust you. I say all this because it reminds me of some Christians I know. I'll call them hyper-Christians, and in their Christian walk of evangelical caffeination, they act exactly as I have today (on espresso overload). It's like they have been injected with the genes of a rottweiler and chihuahua combined. They pounce on people and shove tracts down people's throats, while biting the heels of people who disagree with their ideas. I prefer to ascribe to a more, shall we say, peaceful form of spreading Jesus. If you do it right, it should spread like a good disease...you want to be infected with it. There's a lot to be said for the people that spread Jesus this way. Usually you don't notice them, they're so humble about it. But I aspire to be like that...hanging out, spreading a little Jesus and loving life...sounds better to me than a caffeinated hyper-nation. Jesus Freaks.

maturity is bliss

There are some things that just make me really happy. For example: long walks on the beach, star-gazing, the smell of new books, good conversation... The latter, actually is what puts a smile on my face today. I, as many of us are, am a victim of immature decisions made in my past while I was, quite literally, freaked out and only out to take care of myself. Today, I saw that one of those bad decisions that hurt another person was remedied. It has been the source of many tears, thoughts of stabbing myself in the eye, guilt, and estranged friendships. I'm glad it was over, but I'm not angry that it happened. The situation has grown me in many ways. I know I'm being vague, but I've come to the conclusions that not all of one's soul must be bared on a public blog :). Just the basics will suffice. I'm thankful for the maturity that comes in time, and the grace of good friends who love me for me.

Feminism at it's best

I want to write a post for all the girls out there who continue to be subjected to antiquated beliefs and chauvanist(?) males. My girl-power instinct is flaring up again. In the last few weeks, I've heard a lot of talk about female presidents. Thanks to Hillary, everyone is stirred up. If she ever wanted to go down in the history books, or have her fifteen minutes of fame, she's done it. Since we're less than a year away from the "big vote" people talk about politics a lot, and I usually get caught in the conversation. Or decide to add my two cents in. I guess I don't really get caught... I volunteer. I can't help it if I don't know when to shut my mouth. Anyways, all this talk about Hillary has everyone asking one question: "Can a woman be president?" What, guys, is the big damn deal? Is it so presumptious to believe that a woman can lead a country? The initial argument is that women are "too emotional" to handle leading a country. Can we help it that we've been cursed with the fountain of life? This leads to emotional days, I'll grant you that, but come on... give me something more original. I know plenty of guys that seem like they're having emotional decades... do you think they're capable of leading a country? And then there's the argument that a woman would not be able to "fight" if it becomes necessary. What makes you think a man wants to "fight" or kill people any more than a woman does? If a person wants to engage in war or elist armies to kill people, if that is his sole desire, he needs to have his head checked out. I wouldn't want that person to be president either. When it comes down to it, a woman president will do what she has to do, even if in the past, the fragile feminine sex has been uncapable of aggression. So it seems, or maybe she's just been forced by society to be that way... but that's a whole other subject. I'm not saying that I support Hillary, frankly, I don't know who I will vote for. No candidate seems worthy of leading our country. All I'm saying is that I want people to consider the idea that we may have a woman presdient someday, and I'm fully in support of that. And please, if you disagree... don't use that "women are emotional" argument...it's unoriginal and petty, and if you're arguing with me, I may feel entitled to hit you over the head with a big book. Not that I'm emotional or anything...

Fat Jeans

I think my life is a series of revolving metaphors. I was thinking the other day, as most girls do, about that special little time of the month. Oh I love it, I do. I think the worst part about being a girl is the clothes. I've wished I was a boy several times, for many reasons. One, so I could wear really loose jeans and t shirts all the time and get away with it. And never shave, my legs I mean. And pee outside. But wishing never got anyone anywhere, so I'll settle for my girly ways and continue to squeeze myself into tight fitting curve conforming jeans and mini tees. All in the name of fashion... or whatever. I think Life is like a pair of fat jeans sometimes. Yes, every girl has them. They are a necessary evil to combat the certainty of gaining weight over Christmas and during that "special time of the month." I'll explain myself. You don't come into this world "fitting" it just right. You have to grow into it. Essentially you have to grow into yourself, who you want to become, who the world is making you... etc. To me, the world feels like a big pair of fat jeans.( You can laugh here, because it's funny.) Most often, they are too loose and uncomfortable, sometimes they feel like they are squeezing you to death, and sometimes, ever so rarely, they fit just right. For me, I've been swimming in a pair of uncomfortable stiff jeans for all my life. Life just never seems to fit just right, but I guess it doesn't for most people.

Dirty Yellow Sponges

They've got it all wrong: you don't become an adult when you turn eighteen or twenty-one. Nor, despite what your professors say, do you become an adult when you enter college. No, you become an adult when you get engaged. I had no idea I would have to mature so fast and instantly know all about insurance, finances and fine china.

I drove a lot this weekend, and therefore, had a lot of time to think. I looked down at my diamond ring sparkling in the sunlight as I drove and thought...
"what the hell have I gotten myself into?"
I'm sure every bride thinks that to herself once or twice during the preparation for marriage. A word of wise to my friends: Don't be engaged for longer than six months. I know, I heard it too, but it's true. You'll go mad. Everyone wants to "help" you prepare for your special day. But their help may be more than you've bargained for.

I was thinking the other day about all those sappy chick flicks and books that depict a lovely maiden being swept off her feet as prince charming saves the day.(eff you eldridges) True, it can happen, but you've got to land sometime. I think I have. Don't get me wrong. I love my fiance, I love the thought of getting married, and I even love planning the wedding...sometimes. I just never thought I would be on this road to wedded bliss. It's just a little bumpier than I thought.

I was thinking too, as I drove(these are either the deepest, or most metaphorical, or wierdest thoughts I've had in awhile... I should take road trips more often)that I want to be like a sponge. Like one of those nasty yellow kitchen sponges that seem to soak up everything. I know, wierd, but it's true. I want to soak life up as it happens. And get squeezed out at all the right times. I feel like I can get so calloused to life and its experiences. And I don't want to. I want to drink in every moment. Every single day.
On or off the record, I guess in a way you could call it my new year's resolution.. a sentimental one.