why do tired people sing?

no hair cuts or dying/coloring my hair

learn 6 songs on the mandolin -including “you are my sunshine”

write about/note one “character” i talk to at work every week

put aside a minimum of $50 a month for travel

learn 1 piano piece a month

pay off my car by june

learn how to make creme brulee

learn 1 french phrase a week

be able to run 4 miles

scrapbook 2 hours a week (finish college, korea, and europe)

tithe every month

finish a minimum of 1 book every 2 weeks (year’s reading list to follow soon)

give at least 1 back massage everyday

finish “the brother’s karamozov”

keep a “quote book” and update regularly

sew a dress

write a physical letter every week

take a roadtrip to visit my grandma jeri and grandparents in cali

take a roadtrip to a national park

learn how to cook rice right every time

cook a foreign meal once a week

go to bed earlier. (ha!)

i’m a lot like a little child.

i cry for no reason.

i say mean things to nice people.

i like to be held.

i love graham crackers.

i like to be sung to.

i like to sing loudly.

i don’t like my bedroom door closed all the way.

i sleep with a stuffed animal.

i laugh out loud when something strikes me as funny.

i like to tell stories.

i love sitting close to people and snuggling in wherever i am.

i say things without thinking.

i like to dance even though i’m not good at it.

i’m very ticklish.

i like to be silly.

i love to swing.

at church on christmas eve, pastor fred asked steve and mike, two mentally handicapped men, to help him light the final advent candle. as steve and mike went up to the front and lit the candle together, i couldn’t help noticing the way they walked up front together, held on to eachother for support, patted eachother on the back, and grinned widely at eachother when they were through. they were like little children in their excitement to light the candle and did it together so that neither one would miss a thing. i imagined two grown ups coming up to light the candle, being very polite and spacially conscious as they split the task fairly between them. but pastor fred didn’t ask two grown ups to light the candle -he asked mike and steve. and the week before, he asked 11 year old tripp.

from the time we learn our first word, we’re constantly being told to act more grown up -to not wet the bed, to read on our own, to learn to wash our hair by ourselves, to make our own lunch. we want to be “big kids” before we know any of what that entails. but what’s so great about being grown up? sure, i like being able to feed myself and not wetting the bed cuts down on a lot of extra laundry. and there are lessons like responsibility, a good work ethic, and punctuality that are very important. but there are parts of being a child that i’d like to keep around. just think, wherever you go, who looks like they’re having the best time? the kids, of course! i think we could all use more childlike-ness in our lives. so what -i sleep better when i leave the door touching rather than closed and i like to add hand motions when i’m singing a song. i like it that way.

1. set your alarm late enough that you MUST get up the second it rings.

2. while getting dressed and doing your hair, make a list in your head of all the things you need to do during your breaks. go over it again and again.

3. during the drive to work, turn the radio volume up and make yourself sing along to even the worst of rap songs. if something sentimental like journey or five for fighting comes on, change the station quickly.

4. throw yourself fully into every task at work. in my case, act like yours and your family’s lives depend on meeting your customer’s telephone and internet needs.

5. during your breaks, read. or if you’ve forgotten your book, text anyone and everyone you know to fill them in on what you’re planning to have for lunch.

6. drink coffee throughout the day to make sure your mind is too jumpy to concentrate on any one thing for longer than a few seconds.

7. if you happen to come across something that reminds you of said person you’re trying to forget, have a large supply of dark chocolate on hand and remind yourself this is a normal part of life. move on to another activity as quickly as possible.

8. on your way home from work, don’t forget to turn the music up loudly again. [this is an especially sensitive time of day as you will drive by many people who are going happily home to their unforgettable someones.]

9. as soon as you get home, change into running clothes and hit the pavement. this is the one time you’re allowed to think about the person -so make it good. but as an aid, once again turn your ipod (preferably something upbeat and fun, for example, the killers) up loudly so you can’t concentrate too much. run run run until you can’t hear yourself think anymore.

10. take a shower and go over all the christmas gifts you still have to buy and all the things you have to do before bed.

11. jump out of the shower and hurry to your sister’s christmas choir concert to save seats for the family. while waiting for the concert, text your friends to see how their days were.

12. when the choir sings love songs like “slow dancing in the snow,” turn to your pre-prepared list of things to do before going to bed.

13. get frozen yogurt with your sister and talk about all the funny things you see and hear.

14. drink tea, play cribbage and learn to play the cello with your best friend until your eyes are threatening to close on you.

15. drive home with music on again. if you’re tired of rap, you can try the classic station, but whatever you do, don’t turn the radio off and sit in the quiet.

16. do all your bedtime rituals and don’t forget to journal. it’s ok to mention said forgettable person, but don’t let it get too out of hand.

17. read until your eyes cannot focus and even then, go for another page. [the goal is to have as little time in-between laying your head down and sleeping as possible.]

18. if you so much as think of said person, turn on the light and get your book out.

19. [the unconscious is something you can't control: dream of all the unforgettable traits of said person all night.]

20. wake up to your alarm with said unforgettable person the first thing you think of. go back to #1 immediately.

repeat as necessary. and then again for good measure. =)

i’ve always wished i was confident like some people -you know who i mean -the ones who know who they are and don’t have anything to hide.

but then again, the fact that i’d usually rather sit at home with a cup of tea and a cribbage game than go out on the town is widely known. i still wear skirts i made in high school (i like them!). i unabashedly claim to know less then half a dozen actors by name. i’ve never followed a TV show weekly. my purse is a brightly colored bag that never matches anything i’m wearing. i blindly shout out the first word that pops into my head during games like catch phrase and it often is as far from the correct answer as possible. i admit i’ve tried to like beer, but hate it and can’t handle more than one fruity rum drink without feeling sick. i love to bake and wear floral printed aprons that my gramma might have worn. i (obviously) don’t (ok, hardly ever) try to be sexy or hot or any other thing guys claim to want. in conversation i often bring up stories that embarrass myself just because i thought it was funny. i forget that these aren’t the best ways to present myelf. but do i care? not really.

maybe i’m not so insecure, after all, eh?

rach and i have been running together as of late. in an effort to forget the constantly pounding pavement under our heels, we try and talk about anything and everything that comes to our minds, and we’ve had some amazing conversations.

for instance, is there something wrong with a culture in which dating relationships are normal? who would have thought a practice in which two people who hardly know each other are thrown together, intimate within days (weeks if you’re cautious), inseparable for the time they’re “together,” and then expected to get over it and move on when the relationship abruptly ends is normal and even healthy? in what other setting do you get to know practically everything about a person (their favorite meal, the way they like their tea, what they think about when they can’t sleep, what they felt the first time they saw their dad cry…), hold their hand and come to love them, then have to say goodbye? and not only say goodbye for today, but forever. this goodbye means you can’t call to ask how their day went. it means you can’t stop by with their favorite cookies. it means you can’t kiss them goodnight. in what other setting are you expected to move on and live as if your once-closest-friend-in-the-world doesn’t exist?

i know you’re thinking it, so i’ll just say it. death. so death and dating, huh. very interesting.

the physical meeting the emotional/spiritual is one of the worst things i’ve ever felt. it’s one thing to wake up sad about something. it’s another thing to wake up with the flu. but it’s quite a new thing altogether to wake up sick to your stomach because something is very wrong. it feels so real it’s almost unreal.

i put myself in time out yesterday. i was being a little whiner-pot (as my brothers call it). an abundance of time for pity parties had resulted in too much thinking and not enough doing. following my parent’s tradition, while i was in time out, i made myself think about what i had done to deserve this punishment. but rather than sit on my bed all day like my mom would have ordered, i did things i don’t particularly enjoy.

while making pumpkin bars (ok, i did enjoy this, but i couldn’t come up with anything else to do), i thought about all the reasons i have to plan pity parties. i don’t have a job. i’m 24 and living at home. i don’t have a boyfriend. sometimes my car doesn’t start. i’ll probably have gray hair in my wedding pictures. i don’t have money to travel. it’s cold. my knees are weirdly shaped. by the time i get married i may not be able to have 5 kids before i’m barren. etc. etc. etc.

next i set myself up at the sink to de-bone 3 chickens that had been boiling on the stove all morning. while tearing apart gizzards and dividing muck from meat, i thought about all the good things i enjoy everyday. i had my first interview last week, and they called me back for a computer test (good sign?). i have sisters who enjoy taking their poor, in-debt sister to coffee. my parents don’t mind, and actually like, me occupying my childhood bedroom. my car still runs, eventually. i still have hundreds of pictures to scrapbook from my past 2 years of traveling adventures. i found an online girl’s magazine looking for authors and they want to publish my writing (http://realitycheckgirlmagazine.com/?cat=17 …keep scrolling). i have shelves and shelves of books in my room waiting to be read.

as i drove/jerked around with katie, who is learning to drive a stick shift, i thought about the things that bring me joy. my sisters. my parents. my brothers. my grandparents. my friends. helping people. tea. reading. writing. listening to music. playing piano. walking. listening. thinking. talking. the sun. laughing. journaling. children. God.

and finally, while i huffed and puffed away on the treadmill, i thought about being joyful where i am today, at this moment. so i don’t have a boyfriend -it gives me more time for spontaneous late night candy trips with my sisters. so what if i can’t have 5 children of my own -there are precious orphans waiting to be adopted all over the world. i don’t have a fancy, or even fully reliable car, but it sure has character. i may not know what God has for me tomorrow, but i’m learning to trust it will be good. and if i don’t get married until my hair is gray, i have two options for photos: hair dye or black and white film.

if you really care, sometimes holding on can be the worst thing you can do. in a perfect world, romeo and juliet and tristan and iseult would live happily ever after right along with cinderella and prince charming. maybe that’s part of what shakespeare was trying to get across -fairy tale love doesn’t always work in the real world. not to be anti-beatles or anything, but sometimes love is not all you need. lovers need a place in which to live while they love. you’ve heard the tale -when a fish loves a bird, where will they live? i’ll make the fish wings, you say. but that’s not always enough. i hate being a realist. it’s not the way i’m made. but just remember -this is not heaven -life on earth is not what it’s supposed to be. no matter how incredible, earthly love will fail us. but love is still the greatest and the closest we come to God in this world. i’m not going to stop being a dreamer -i’m going to love like it’s all i can do (because it is). but sometimes it’s not right -you can’t keep fighting to make those fish wings fly -you have to set the bird free.