… is that I’ve become a flake. If it’s not nailed down or written in blood months in advance or completely necessary… it likely won’t happen. This makes me sad, as I’m not a flakey person by nature and feel myself constantly imagining what others must think of my newfound flakeyness.
What to do?
Posted in Puke of the Brain, awkward girl | Leave a Comment »
(Geek patrol – if you don’t watch LOST, this post will probably mean nothing to you. Then again, if you don’t watch LOST, time to get on Ye Olde Bandwagon already. I mean really.)
Sawyer is by far my favorite Lostie, always has been. I love his nicknames, one-liners and the transformation his character has taken from swaggering con man to self-sacrificing hero. He’s probably one of the most openly redemptive characters on the show, proving that even someone who “doesn’t speak destiny” can be transformed through love and community.
I like Sawyer because I understand him. He’s tough and self-reliant, he sees holes in theology but is OK with them. He doesn’t need all the answers, just the ones that matter, and he is less concerned about broad issues of faith and destiny then he is about the safety of those he loves. LOST is rife with faith and reason debates and religious parallels, but the best ones are the most subtle.
We don’t need to beat people up with theology and end-times scare tactics ala Locke and Jack. There’s big things afoot, sure – but friendship and honesty – ala Hurley, Jin and Sawyer are the most powerful tools for persuasion. Quietly, kindly, (sometimes with wildly swinging punches, ok, so they aren’t perfect) the characters who capture our hearts aren’t always right, aren’t God-like or even very knowledgeable about anything, but they care. They care about each other, about human life, about the Right thing.
Isn’t that all we can care about? Isn’t the rest just talk?
Posted in Faith, current events, inspiration, people watching | Leave a Comment »
I’ve been thinking about life lately, about the relative smallness or largeness of it, and the things that make me frustrated or hold me back or keep me flirting with the verge of a breakdown. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, too much going on, really, to allow ridiculous Space Camp-ish aspirations. Which is probably why I’m thinking about it.
Because I’m the kind of person who gets emotional and restless, I’m also the type to put a lot of pressure on myself to be good at the things I love. Because that makes sense. I’m reading books like Into the Wild, and thinking about what it means to completely embrace something. I’m reading Going Rogue and Committed, and wondering how to be gracious, compassionate and flexible while staying true to who I am.
A couple of my instructor buddies at the ranch invited me to join them for riding and horsey-fun every Friday. One of the bummers of working so much is that I haven’t been able to go yet, but last week I did show up a little early, just to chat before lessons began and time ran away again. I know, for sure, for positive, for real – that they are both better riders than I. Which is OK. Really. Most of my life, with horses or elsewhere, has been spent with people who knew more and were better than I, but I loved it enough to make up the difference with sheer grit. However, gritty or not, it sounds much easier to just work it out on my own, where falling down can go unnoticed and I can dust myself off without an audience.
But I’m reminding myself in the immortal words of Dave – that I’m never too old to go to Space Camp. For me, Space Camp is writing and riding, being a more loving, patient and understanding friend, the kind who listens more than she talks and feels for others. Space Camp is embracing my failures, living within an imperfect world, diving in and trying it, whether I fall on my face or not. It’s hard for me to admit that Space Camp is scary, that I’m afraid the other kids won’t like me or that I’ll forget that little ol’ Pluto is no longer a planet. But I’ve got to try. This restless heart is more painful than a hundred Space-related rejections, and it’s time to blast off.
Posted in Faith, choices, friendship, horses, writing | 2 Comments »
…but no time to say it. So for now, it’s a gorgeous day, I’m working like a crazy cowgirl and ready to sleep in tomorrow.
Also, I’ve listened to the “Into the Wild” soundtrack approximately 15 times in the last three days. You should try it too.
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Well, maybe not everybody. But Katie is, and she also remembered Valerie’s love of lists, which is what comes to my mind too, when I think of listy things. I also think about Adam’s cramped hand-writing insisting on “GOOD string cheese” on the magnetic grocery list on the fridge, a request that caught our friends’ eyes and made for quite of bit of good-natured ribbing for my poor cheese-craving Hubs. I think of the list of to-dos that always comes to mind right before bed-time, and of the longer list of to-dos that I always manage to forget when the sun is shining and more exciting activities are calling my name. I think about packing lists, and how much I love to make them, knowing that it means we’re going somewhere soon. I think of wedding registries, and how it’s the best list EVER, and how shopping is never as much fun as when you’re hoping to receive all of these lovely home-things in a new home with your love. I think of my shopping wish-lists, and budgets, and gift-cards. I think about how good things come to those who wait, about hanging on to my lists and allowing my desires to wait, instead of rushing out yesterday, the moment I want something, the way I used to. I think about how there’s a lot of lists in the world, about how people think, the best movies, or why people live longer these days.
But the best lists are those about our little lives, the list that I made for Adam about why I love him, the aforementioned list on the fridge, speaking of home-cooked meals and brown-bag lunches made with kisses in the kitchen, the lists of gifts for my dear ones, the bachelorette parties and weddings and birthdays and babies to come. Lists keep me centered, remind me of what’s to come, give me pause, make me think.
Posted in Puke of the Brain, bower, inspiration, nesting | 1 Comment »
I’m a bit over-zealous in my expectations. The slightest bit of chill in the air appears right after Thanksgiving, and I’m already in the throes of Christmastide, revelling in hope of a best Christmas ever and cheer by the pound and sizzling punch upon the hob with dear ol’ Cratchit.
I expect to win every writing contest I enter, not because I think I’m that good, but because I’ve gotten so wound up about it that I can’t help but believe it will come true.
Yesterday I got rejection letter #Gagillion for some writing, and I wanted to cry and throw in the towel. I just want to ARRIVE, forget all this sweat and hard work crap. CAN’T THEY SEE THAT I’M GIFTED?!
Heh.
Unless this dream is not for me, I have to pick myself up and try again, edit again, write again. My last essay was not my last great work, but simply the last thing I wrote, which is probably NOT as awesome as I originally thought.
When I was in highschool, one of my first jobs was picking rocks. Yes, it’s as awful as it sounds. Walking along in a dusty, plowed hayfield behind a geriatric flatbed, throwing boulders the size of my head onto its wide expanse. The days were dusty, hazy with sweat and the above-my-head off-color jokes of much-older farmhands. I remember returning to the farmhouse at the end of a long day, stopping to wash my hands and seeing a old cross-stitch over the bathroom mirror. It was one of those homemade decorations with multiple encouraging thoughts, like “Love always” and “Laugh often”, but the last line has stuck with me: “Be cheerful even when you are weary”.
It sounds simple doesn’t it, a like a Hallmark injunction to hug more. But cheerfulness in hardship has never been my strong suit, nor has the handling of disappointment. A teenage girl doing man’s work is the definition of weary, and I took that little saying as an inspiration, my goal for the days to come.
I haven’t thought about that old cross-stitch in a long time, but I remembered it yesterday, as I held the rejection letter in my hand and felt hot tears well up, frustrated and weary beyond my ability to mask. “Be cheerful even when you are weary”.
I am weary in this crazy journey of self-employment. I’m scared to death of filing my own taxes, terrified of never actually reaching my goals, of suffering in the no-man’s-land of rejection letters and part-time gigs forever. I want to just BE EASIER, already. I don’t want to work on cheerfulness, on brave smiles and hopeful optimism.
But I know that I’m called to more than grumpy petulance and childish mood swings, even though it just feels so right, sometimes. I have to rise up, and manage my expectations and my reactions to imperfection, in myself and the world around me. I have to learn to be cheerful in weariness, loving in disappointment, hopeful in uncertain days.
Because it’s still January and I’m still allowed to make New Year-ish proclamations, I’m adopting Romans 12:9-13 as my inspiration and calling this year: “Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.”
Hold me to it, blog friends. This is the year of trusting Him instead of my own efforts. This is the year of clinging to what is good.
Posted in Faith, Memories, choices, inspiration, moodiness, observations, writing | 1 Comment »
…I giggled with my girls.
….we hugged our family.
…we danced for joy.
…we posed for more pictures than I ever thought possible.
…we relished incredible community.
…we embarked on a new life.
Posted in Love, Memories, family, good day, men/women, weddings | 1 Comment »
I’ve heard through the blogging grapevine that it is, in fact, “delurking day” today. I’m pretty sure that the only lurkers I have are my beloved long-suffering and non-commenting relatives, who probably just check this little page to insure I don’t slander them on the sly, but I’m still going to give you all opportunity to expose yourself. (Pun intended.)
So, tell me, blog lurkers all… I have a gift card to Barnes and Noble and an itching for new reading material. Any suggestions?
Posted in Puke of the Brain, family, writing | 10 Comments »
I keep everything. Well, not everything. But cards, notes, movie stubs and scraps of paper with doodles or notes from friends – those are IMPOSSIBLE for me to throw away.
Case in point – today I was going through my receipts and etc. for taxes FIRE BREATHING MONSTER OF DEATH and found a puffy envelope from 2006 with Julie’s handwriting on it that said “To Dani California”. That was enough to make it worth stuffing away and cherishing forever, along with a place-card from the first wedding Adam and I went to together, an “it’s OK you’re jobless, I still love you!” note from Valerie, the last roll of film I developed in college, and sundry other goodies from the last few years.
It makes me feel a tiny bit melancholy, (probably just because I am a hanger-onner… yes, that’s my official title). It makes me miss my friends who are far away, makes me grateful for all the times they held me up with their love, helps me remember the crazy journey that’s brought me here. I have to remind myself that it’s OK to throw things away and it’s also OK to reminisce – but more than anything, it’s good to be grateful, to live in the moment, to cherish the past, and to move on wiser, humbler, kinder because of it.
Posted in Memories, Puke of the Brain, college, friendship, quirks | 2 Comments »
The house is (reasonably) clean. A candle is lit. I did enough dishes to turn my hands very pruney indeed. I am wearing my adorable Longhorn tee, a birthday present from the ever-thoughtful Megan. Pizza coupons are resting on the table (I am never one to pass up a discount, you know) and my tumbly is already rumbling. People are arriving shortly, bringing more food and laughter and stories of the day and good-natured football rivalries.
Now all we need a good showing from Texas. We’re here for ya, boys. Hook ‘em!
Posted in Home, current events, friendship | Leave a Comment »
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