In Which I Procrastinate

Things I should be doing:

- I should be writing a paper or three.

- I should be unpacking my bag and my laundry basket and my backpack from when I got back. A week ago.

- I should be making or eating breakfast, other than chocolate, since I have been up for four hours.

- I should be vacuuming (such a weird word) our living room since I just crunched some cereal, among other things, into the carpet.

Sure, things I should be doing but am not currently doing.

On church last night:

- Last night, the rooms and I were going to go to church, we really were up until about one minute before we were supposed to leave. Somewhere between me changing clothes and the rooms standing in the kitchen talking, we decided we were no longer going to church.
- When we were supposed to be at church we instead sat in our living room, windows open, watching twilight grow into darkness while we talked for a really long time.
- And skipping church to talk? Totally worth every minute.

*Apparently, this is turning into another list post... if you haven't picked up on that yet. My blog, my rules. Which really means I just make up things as I go.

On bike riding:

- Yesterday I went for a bike ride, four and a half miles out into the country where I sat on a bridge and read for an hour.

- Yesterday, after sitting on the bridge, I climbed back on my bike and somehow cut open my knee... deep. I then rode back into town with a thick trail of blood from my knee to my sneakers. Im not even sure what happened... I am that talented.

On Glee:

- Currently, Rachel on Glee is singing "Gives You Hell" by Pink.

- There is a guy, don't remember his name, who can really dance.

- I don't understand how Mr. Schu can wear jeans everyday as a teacher. I need to be a teacher in his school.

On random things:

- Grad school is back in full swing.

- Thursday nights are my new favorite nights I think.

- The weather has been getting into the 80's here but we don't believe in air conditioning. As a result, the rooms and I both sleep with our doors open which usually never happens.

- Someone should figure out my life for me and then leave me a map and maybe a compass.

Off to be pretend to do something productive.

Peace

In Which I Make a List

I am laying in my bed, in my artsy apartment, listening to my neighbors washing machine run and the sound of my roommate's fan from down the hall. I am decompressing and as such, feel the need to make a list. Or perhaps turning these thoughts into a list is the only way to make them make sense.

- I drove about 700 miles today. As that trip ended, I have now put over 2,000 miles on my car in less than two weeks

- If I were a superhero traffic and construction would definitely be on my list for a potential arch nemesis.

- I am in love with sunsets. And cameras. And the combination.

- Jo Jo, my GPS, gets a little zooly when we cross back into this state.

- Zooly isn't actually a word. I was trying to write wonky in a text earlier and T-9 translated it as zooly so I went with it. Maybe it will be my new word.

- The height difference between my bed here and my bed at my parents house is astounding.

- I wish pomegranates were in season.

- I am ready to get back out on the water with my pretty pretty wakeboard.

- Hit the worst rain I have ever experienced while driving today. I literally prayed for my life. My prayer was answered the way I desired.

- Driving for 13 hours with no cruise control sucks.

- Ever year I forget how freckles pop up on my face and arms when I start getting tan. I remembered now, after seeing them.

- Spring quarter for grad school starts on Monday. In some ways I am looking forward to having something productive to do with my time once again.

I need and want sleep.

Peace out.

Time Frozen: Thoughts on a Sunday

Two days ago, the temperature here in the MO was in the upper 60s and the sun was shining bright. I sat for hours on our porch, reading words, and thinking thoughts.

One day ago, I awoke to rain and temperatures not even reaching 40 degrees. Time turned and the snow turned to rain and the black roads turned to white.

Today, the first weekend of spring and the snow has turned to rain and perhaps back again.

Two days from now, the temperature is to return to the upper 60s, melting away the snow and ice.

This isn't really about the weather. Certainly the weather plays an aspect into this, wishing I could have frozen time when I was sitting on my porch, filling my mind with words and warming my soul from the outside. I enjoyed it then, but not as much as I should have. It was a moment undone that I wish I could redo just so I could appreciate it a little more. Maybe then I wouldn't have been annoyed with the wind whipping my still wet hair across my face. Maybe then the wind chimes from the door below our apartment would have sounded more musical than distracting. If I had known what the next day would bring, would I have frozen time?

Twenty minutes ago I was wrapped in my cocoon of blankets and pillows, buried in a world of words when I started thinking about the idea that time outside of my own stands still when I am not there. Sometimes when I am in a busy store, or walking down a people packed street I imagine that mine is the only life that is moving. That is meant to be narcissistic but rather a thought that the unknown means there isn't a known. I see these people, these strangers, and while in reality I know that they too have lives outside of those moments where our worlds collide, I have this jaded thought that maybe they only exist in those moments.

When I run through neighborhoods or drive down country roads I see houses and unless I know the people who live there or see the people who live there, it is hard to remember that people do live there. It is as if because I do not know, then that is frozen in time, exactly how I see it at that moment. In the same regard, if I see something I know, little kids or foreign countries, it is all too easy to believe that when I leave for any extended amount of time then when I return those people and situations will be exactly the same when I return. That tow-headed not quite five year old will be exactly the same when I return six months later. Yet, the child standing in front of me is not the same as they were six months ago. Time does not freeze.

I like to travel and I tend to travel. It is not the extravagant backpacking through Europe or off on beach vacations on remote islands. Most of the time it is continuing to carve the 800 mile path between my artsy- not by my talent- apartment and my family's house in the OH. The majority of the time, that path is carved by my car but sometimes I am blessed with the luxury to fly. Airports are a great clash of cultures and people. They are filled with people who are going anywhere and nowhere all at the same time and never at the same time in one swoop. Yet, inconsequently airports are one area where I do not have the tendency to believe that time is frozen.

I see the business people, lugging their briefcases, tugging their carryon rolling bags, and constantly on their Blackberry or iPhones. I see the families letting their small children run amuck in the hopes they will turn into angels once they board their plane. I see the bleary eyes college students catching late night flights in hopes of spending a seemingly short weekend at home. I see the happy couples too wrapped up in their own love story to even think another world exists around them. I see.

Maybe thats the point. Maybe we are supposed to see, to realize others have stories. Maybe we need to come to term with the fact that time does not stand still because time is meant to be lived. And not just in our lives, but in others as well. When I see people, when I am so wrapped up in my own story, maybe time doesn't stand still so I will recognize the importance of other people having stories as well.

Two days ago I wished time would freeze so I could go back to that moment of warmth and sunshine. And maybe thats the point.

Life is supposed to be lived.

Normal?

In the past week I have tried to live a normal life, at least a normal life for me.

In most regards, I have failed miserably:

-I have not had typical sleep patterns... well, I guess worse than usual.

-I have not had typical eating patterns.

-I have not had typical work patterns.

-I have not had typical crying patterns... which, really means I have just cried.

-I have spent too much time thinking and then time refusing to think.

In some ways, I have created a new normal.

Life has been messy in the last nine days. But there are people who have been there for me through the mess.

Life has been beautiful in the last nine days. But, this is a different kind of beautiful.

Life has been filled with a million emotions. But, some that I do not appreciate.

It has been hard and messy, emotion filled and draining. It has been reckless and unpredictable.

It has been a wonderful and real example of community.

It has been life and for now I guess thats a new normal.

You and You and Me

Lost, looking for the words that will somehow make it okay. Seeking some sort of justice or fairness or sensibility in all of this. Reality though, my thoughts scream out that there is nothing fair or even right in a situation like this. It doesn't make sense that tonight people will gather to see, one last time, a girl whose life was far too short. They will sat goodbye to someone who never should have died; not in this way nor in this time. Twenty-one years is too far too short to be a lifetime.

Tonight, last night, Tuesday night, a little baby was put to bed without her mother there. Not even a year old and she will never again have her mother there to hold her, comfort her, kisses away her mistakes, or cuddle her through the night. What, of this, is good or right? Two parents, an older brother with a wife, a daughter, a boyfriend, friends, and family will say goodbye and I don't know how that is okay. Yet, somehow it has to be okay because there is nothing that can be done to make it change.

Tomorrow morning, people will fill a church to say goodbye, one last time. People will celebrate a life that is suddenly clouded by darkness. And I will sit here, without enough strength to make the trek three hours away. And maybe you, whoever you are, don't understand that I can't do it by myself. Yes, I know the people, I know the family, I will see a room full of classmates and school mates, but I cannot do this one my own. I cannot climb into my car, driving three hours away, by myself, knowing what the end will hold. I cannot climb back into my car and drive three hours back, knowing what I left behind. So maybe you don't agree or maybe you, whoever you are, think that I am making excuses, but I can't do it. I am sorry but I just can't.

And you, I know who you are, have let me cry on your shoulder, hugged when I could not speak, played with my hair until I fell asleep, and have been there. And you don't quite know what to say, but thats okay cause neither do I. But thank you for understanding even when you don't, even when I don't.

And me? I don't know what to say when the tears reveal so much more than I desire someone to know. Two days ago was one of the best days, package day, until I heard that the person were praying would pull through, the person I thought would live, would never again open her eyes. And right now, that is not okay. These are my words, trying to make sense of the chaos and coming up short.

You and you and me.

Verbal Butt-Kicking

I have been in a funk since Sunday night. It's not a good or healthy place to be. I didn't know what to do with myself and to be quite frank, the roommate didn't know what to do with me either. So we skirted around each other, her going to class and me going for a long walk through soaking snow.

Then, a little after ten, the roommate got back from work and I got a verbal butt-kicking. Sometimes, the truth hurts and its hard and its right to your core, but its the truth. And sometimes the reason that it hurts, at least for me, is that I am not living in the truth in those moments. The roommate told me she was scared to tell me the things that she did because she didn't want to ruin our friendship but she loved me too much to let me stay where I was. So she took a risk and followed God.

I didn't say much, assuring her that it was not because I was hurt but rather because I didn't know quite what to say. So I went to get ready for bed, only to come out a minute later to say thanks and get a hug I think we both needed. Then I went to bed, mostly sleeping for the first time in a long time, until those early morning hours. I woke up, not quite sure why and not quite able to go back to sleep. Instead, I talked to God for awhile and then moved to the couch for some Pride and Prejudice followed by the Today Show until sleep led me back to my bed where I slept, barely hearing the roommate get ready for class and leave.

A wonderful feeling overcame me as I sat on the couch, eating my breakfast, at nearly noon. It was with delight that I was able to tell the roommate that hard words from a roommate, some time with Jesus, and lots of sleep can makes a much happier me, with a much better attitude. And we were both happy, not because things are okay for the moment but because things are okay and its okay when they are not okay because God is there, even when I want to ignore Him. I am sure that will not be the last of the verbal butt-kickings, and even though they hurt, I am thankful that someone cares enough to address the hard stuff.

Peace,

Jess

Random Compilation

• The hour is getting late and the night has long since been dark. My roommate is already asleep, just down the hall, in the room that isn't hers but has become her nighttime home for the last few months. I am tired and awake, a great contradiction but one that has become my new normal. I love sleep but it has also been an enemy recently. The power of dreams is far too strong, but I know there is something more powerful as well. The minutes tick by until its light again, until I can sleep in peace. The morning light brings renewed relief.

• When I returned from a month away, I grew convinced that the best friends new goal for 2010 was to get me back to church. So, I went and took the roommate. We found a new church, the one the best friend and her husband attend that has only been around since September. Church is good, at least this church is really good. There has been a lot of talk about community which has lead to more than one discussion between the roommate and I. Community is a great thing but it also sucks because it is vulnerable, real, and hard. Our pastor (can I call him ours is we have only been twice? Doing it anyway) was talking last Sunday about how we should live all lives. We all have baggage, things we carry around, trying to hide from, behind or with; regardless, we all have it. Its like when you go on vacation- traveling there your clothes are folded and neat, everything in its proper place in the suitcase. Yet, on the return trip all the dirty clothes are just thrown in there, underwear mixed with t-shirts in this great mess. Of course, it is then when your bag gets searched and everyone gets to see your baggage, dirty underwear and all, feeling like everyone is seeing those things you wished to keep hidden. But, what if we lived that way, lived in such a way that we didn't feel like we had to keep our dirty laundry hidden and instead aired our laundry out, not for judgement but for growth. And maybe, just maybe someone else can see our messes and stand up and say "me too."

• Life is hard sometimes and its okay. Its okay to not be okay. Its okay to need people even if you don't want to admit it. Its okay to not have life figured out or to be living the life you thought you would be living. Its okay to be vulnerable, whether intentional or not, with someone else. Its okay to not know what to say or what to do. Its okay. At least that is what the roommate and I have been telling ourselves and each other. And you know what? It. is. okay.

Midnight musings coming to an end while there is still some semblance of them making sense.

Peace

Jess