I am done apologizing for/not admitting the following things about myself:
1) I like Miley Cyrus. I saw my first episode of Hannah Montana over break... and... I also liked it.
2) I hate what I look like. I do not think I am beautiful.
3) I do not think many people like me. I think a lot of people are liars.
4) I do not like getting close to people because I am always waiting for the ball to drop. I am waiting for that person to go away. The typical pattern has been that people leave. It's a natural part of life, sure, but I've never had anyone who stuck with me through thick and thin, so I always wait for the ball to drop. Because of this, not many people know much about me, except for only a couple. There's one person who reads this blog who questions if she is one of them. She is.
5) I love dressing up and wearing necklaces.. especially my Grandma's silver and gold one. I do not like wearing sweatshirts and tshirts *all* the time, but I feel like if I dress up for class, then I'm trying too hard, and people are going to look at me funny... like, who does SHE think she is... looking nice for class? So I don't dress up for class. Though sometimes I do, and on those days, I feel really good and do really well.
6) I have had crushes on mostly English teachers. Even in college. Even this semester. Even if he is old enough to be my father.
7) I burp. I also fart, and poop. I'm not exactly ashamed of it... unless I'm around people I do not know.
8) I check to see what my poop looks like before I flush it.
9) I'm actually terrified of bees and driving in snow... but when I'm in the driver's seat of the bus, somehow the fear goes away. Catch me standing in line with a bee flying around my head, however, and I flip a pancake.
10) I like being a positive influence on my friends when it comes to my weight loss, but when they lose more than I have in less amount of time than I have, and don't seem to be having the same problems I am, I tend to hate them.
11) I am actually a really jealous person.
12) I want to be a soccer mom. I want a minivan.
13) I want to live in the city, but I want to move out of it when I'm ready to start a family. I want my kids to be able to play in the grass and not be pressured to join a gang.
14) I have altered my interests to fit in with people. Sometimes I don't even know what I like or dislike. Of this I am certain: I love having something to believe in, I love boybands, I love baking, I love piano, I love writing, I love watching people, I love getting to know people, I love that people call me by my full name, and I love bus driving.
15) I prefer handwriting to typing.
16) I miss getting snail mail from pen pals... but I don't have time to keep up with pen pals like I used to.
17) I like High School Musical because I like to make fun of it... not because I seriously like it. I do seriously like the music though. I do actually have a High School Musical Pandora station that I listen to often... and often when I'm at work.
18) I do not like talking on the phone, but I will if it's my only form of communication.
19) I often fear that I scare people away when they take the time to get to know me.
20) I over think everything... from what to eat for breakfast to what to do for the rest of my life.
21) If I chew white gum, I spit it out in the snow and cackle. :o)
22) I hate showing off my abilities, but I want to make myself known somehow.
23) I hate being the friend that people only hang out with when they don't want to go to the bars. Granted, I don't really like going to the bars, but I'm always up for some wine and chocolate. Or bowling. Or something equally fun that doesn't necessarily mean going to a bar where a bunch of drunk boys are going to be all up in my bizznass.
23b) I secretly like when drunk boys get on my bus and are a lot friendlier to me than they would have been otherwise.
24) I miss my high school friends, but I don't think I can get them back because I pushed them pretty hard when I pushed them away.
25) I'm afraid to quit Weight Watchers because I'm afraid that I will gain back all the weight I lost, even though I'm basically wasting my money by not losing weight right now. Weight Watchers, while great at first, has been really upsetting my self image, because I've hit a point where my body just doesn't want to lose weight no matter what I try, and I have put too much importance on a stupid number. I forget the other ways in which I am doing a good job... like being able to run a mile nonstop in about 10-12 minutes, or being able to talk to myself before I start mindlessly eating in front of the TV ("are you really hungry, Sara? does it make sense for you to be hungry right now?"). I don't really think I can do it though. I don't even think I can make it to my first goal, the way things are going.
26) I talk to myself a lot. A lot of times I turn those convesations with myself into prayers, but I seriously wonder if God actually listens to them if my intentions weren't to talk to him at first, but rather myself.
27) I wish I found my special someone in college so that he could propose to me this semester by tripping up the stairs while boarding the bus during one of my work shifts and land on one knee.
28) My initial reaction to basically any situation is to fight it/rebel. Like if someone tells me they have a certain opinion on something, my immediate reaction is to take the opposite opinion. Or when I got stuck in the old bus all the time last year I grew defiant and said, "Well I LOVE this bus." and then i wound up actually loving it.
29) I'm a closet romantic.
30) I hate when people talk about how much fun they have with their other friends when I wasn't a participant in said fun.
31) I always wished I had a tight group of girlfriends like in Sex in the City or the Babysitter's Club (haha to putting those two shows together in the same sentence).
32) I actually like Sex in the City.
33) Sometimes I catch myself narrating my life as it happens.
34) Sometimes I catch myself creating characters in my head and situations to put said characters in. I need to write this stuff down.
34b) sometimes I make said characters into Sims characters.
34c) sometimes I create myself into a Sim character so that when things don't go my way in real life, I can still see it happen in my Sim life.
35) My new phone makes me feel like a grown up. A sexy grownup. Should phones make a person feel sexy?
36) I'm really gullible.
37) I don't know if I have what it takes to survive my life.
38) I know I would never be a good cooking show host, because last night while making a grilled cheese sandwich for myself, I pretended like I was Emeril, and the only thing I was good at was saying "BAM!!" every time I flipped the sandwich.
39) I did not know that Hannah Montana had a song called "The Icecream Freeze." I knew she had a "hoedown throwdown," but oh man. This is another reason for me to like Hannah Montana.
40) I need physical touch to affirm my existence as a human being. This whole being-around-people-who-don't-like-hugging-constantly-thing is driving me crazy.
41) I feel like I need to earn every shower I take... meaning I need to be stinking really badly to take a shower... meaning I need to have worked out before taking a shower.
42) I'm not mad at my sister anymore, but I don't know how to tell her because I've been mad for a long time.
43) I never sent birthday cards to my niece/nephew/aunts/uncles/cousins before because my mom always did that. I don't know if she still signs my name, and I don't know if I can send out my own cards like I want to because I don't want my niece/nephew/aunts/uncles/cousins to get a card from me and then a card from my parents and me, because it would make one of us look like a fake. And no one wants that. So I just don't do it. But I want to.
44) I like cats. I like dogs more, but I still like cats.
45) I would consider pre-marital sex with the right person.
46) I do not agree with the Church's stance on birth control.
47) I've considered being a nun not because I'm feeling called to it, but because I've been single for a long time and I don't think anyone will ever really love me if they haven't already. I don't want to say that being single is bad... and part of me prefers it... but I don't think I want to be alone for the rest of my life.
48) I became a bus driver because I felt like I lost control over my life, and being in the driver's seat gave me a feeling of control again.
49) I take extra work shifts to avoid being alone on the weekends.
50) Marshmallows are my weakness. I eat those things by the bagful.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
They were right.
I just had a startling revelation that I am my mother. I've joked around about it before... about how I'm turning into my mother. But nope. This time it's serious.
I am my mother.
And it's the parts of my mother that I don't like. The parts that I vowed I would never become. I now worry about my future.
You see... I wish I was strong like my mother. My mother divorced her first husband and had to raise two of her daughters by herself until she met my dad. She was completely self sufficient... she beat it into our (my older sister and I) heads that we are to not rely on a man, but rather, learn how to take care of ourselves first and then merge it into a healthy and happy relationship. I wish I could be loving like my mother... where even though she gets treated like complete dirt sometimes by those who she loves and who love her... she still chooses to love them... even though sometimes she talks behind their backs. My mother constantly analyzes herself... she takes every action of every person to heart and she contemplates what that means about her as a person, and how she can change to be a better person. My mother is so open and accepting of others for the most part... though she does have her moments.
But there's another side to my mother... the side I vowed never to become. The side that shuts down and puts up walls. My mother does that a lot. My mother doesn't let anyone in... not her daughters... not her sisters and brothers. She confides in my dad and she confides in God, but she doesn't let anyone else into that inner circle. She likes to have everything exactly her way. I was never allowed to put groceries away or do the dishes (aside from taking them to the sink) or help with dinner because I wasn't going to do it right. I didn't ever even have chores growing up because things had to be cleaned the way my mother wanted them to be cleaned. She doesn't pity people, really. I mean. She definitely sympathizes... but for the most part, if she saw me crying for a reason she didn't find acceptable... she would take the "put your big girl panties on" approach. Recently my mother has been adopting this great philosophy where she's finally taking ownership of her life and doing what makes her happy and not taking any crap from anybody. On one hand, it's a great thing... my mother should stand up for herself. But on the other hand... if you are that person who she is mad at... watch out.
So tonight we cleaned the apartment. I noticed a roommate doing dishes, and I asked her to refrain from doing mine, as I am capable of doing them myself. I've asked my roommates plenty of times this year to let me do my own dishes, especially because half the time I find my dishes with waterspots on them, or leftover food dried on them, and they aren't done to my liking, so I would just rather do it myself. But my dishes kept getting done and I kept interpreting it like I have interpreted my mother's actions... that she's tired of me doing things my way, and she takes the passive approach and just does them herself. It ticks me of like none other. So tonight I just stood up and said "Please let me do my own dishes." And my roommate went and threw her fit and naturally my other roommate went straight to her side because they are best friends and have been living together and go together like peanut and jelly and blahdy blahdy blah, and so of course, I'm made the bad guy in the situation. All I asked was to do my own dishes. And so what did I do? I turned into my mother. I didn't accept her tears. I didn't take pity on her and I rebelled and got mad and put up my walls. Except I don't have anyone to confide in.
Granted... I push people away a lot. Especially when I get close to them. Especially when they are the kinds of people who I don't see myself communicating much with post-graduation. I don't want to be vulnerable with them because I don't see a point in investing that kind of emotional energy into a relationship that isn't going to last past May. I don't even want these friendships to last past May, to be honest, especially considering how tonight was handled... when they both immediately bonded together and completely disregarded me and my side of the story. I don't need that kind of bullshit.
And so I am turning into my mother. I like things done my way. I don't like people doing things for me. If I don't do it myself, my value as a human being greatly diminishes. If I don't do it for myself, I will start to rely too heavily onto people... especially the people who haven't proven yet that they will be there in the future. I am paranoid... I constantly think people are talking bad about me... I analyze every social situation and twist it so that I come out the bad person and I need to change and be a better person. I am my mother. I don't know how positive or negative this realization is. I don't want to say it's an insult to be my mother. I'm just scared at how easily I let it happen when I had been so adamantly opposed to it.
I am my mother.
And it's the parts of my mother that I don't like. The parts that I vowed I would never become. I now worry about my future.
You see... I wish I was strong like my mother. My mother divorced her first husband and had to raise two of her daughters by herself until she met my dad. She was completely self sufficient... she beat it into our (my older sister and I) heads that we are to not rely on a man, but rather, learn how to take care of ourselves first and then merge it into a healthy and happy relationship. I wish I could be loving like my mother... where even though she gets treated like complete dirt sometimes by those who she loves and who love her... she still chooses to love them... even though sometimes she talks behind their backs. My mother constantly analyzes herself... she takes every action of every person to heart and she contemplates what that means about her as a person, and how she can change to be a better person. My mother is so open and accepting of others for the most part... though she does have her moments.
But there's another side to my mother... the side I vowed never to become. The side that shuts down and puts up walls. My mother does that a lot. My mother doesn't let anyone in... not her daughters... not her sisters and brothers. She confides in my dad and she confides in God, but she doesn't let anyone else into that inner circle. She likes to have everything exactly her way. I was never allowed to put groceries away or do the dishes (aside from taking them to the sink) or help with dinner because I wasn't going to do it right. I didn't ever even have chores growing up because things had to be cleaned the way my mother wanted them to be cleaned. She doesn't pity people, really. I mean. She definitely sympathizes... but for the most part, if she saw me crying for a reason she didn't find acceptable... she would take the "put your big girl panties on" approach. Recently my mother has been adopting this great philosophy where she's finally taking ownership of her life and doing what makes her happy and not taking any crap from anybody. On one hand, it's a great thing... my mother should stand up for herself. But on the other hand... if you are that person who she is mad at... watch out.
So tonight we cleaned the apartment. I noticed a roommate doing dishes, and I asked her to refrain from doing mine, as I am capable of doing them myself. I've asked my roommates plenty of times this year to let me do my own dishes, especially because half the time I find my dishes with waterspots on them, or leftover food dried on them, and they aren't done to my liking, so I would just rather do it myself. But my dishes kept getting done and I kept interpreting it like I have interpreted my mother's actions... that she's tired of me doing things my way, and she takes the passive approach and just does them herself. It ticks me of like none other. So tonight I just stood up and said "Please let me do my own dishes." And my roommate went and threw her fit and naturally my other roommate went straight to her side because they are best friends and have been living together and go together like peanut and jelly and blahdy blahdy blah, and so of course, I'm made the bad guy in the situation. All I asked was to do my own dishes. And so what did I do? I turned into my mother. I didn't accept her tears. I didn't take pity on her and I rebelled and got mad and put up my walls. Except I don't have anyone to confide in.
Granted... I push people away a lot. Especially when I get close to them. Especially when they are the kinds of people who I don't see myself communicating much with post-graduation. I don't want to be vulnerable with them because I don't see a point in investing that kind of emotional energy into a relationship that isn't going to last past May. I don't even want these friendships to last past May, to be honest, especially considering how tonight was handled... when they both immediately bonded together and completely disregarded me and my side of the story. I don't need that kind of bullshit.
And so I am turning into my mother. I like things done my way. I don't like people doing things for me. If I don't do it myself, my value as a human being greatly diminishes. If I don't do it for myself, I will start to rely too heavily onto people... especially the people who haven't proven yet that they will be there in the future. I am paranoid... I constantly think people are talking bad about me... I analyze every social situation and twist it so that I come out the bad person and I need to change and be a better person. I am my mother. I don't know how positive or negative this realization is. I don't want to say it's an insult to be my mother. I'm just scared at how easily I let it happen when I had been so adamantly opposed to it.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
everything will be juuust... finnneeeeeee!!!!
Today at Mass I realized that everything is going to be just fine. Of course this doesn't give me much peace right now... at least not enough peace to get me to stop freaking out... but I think maybe realizing now how fine everything will be in the future, the future version of myself will feel more at peace.
Tonight at Mass, after receiving the Eucharist, I went into my heartroom and sat on Jesus' lap on a log on a beach and looked out at the sunset from across the ocean. And Jesus kissed me on the forehead and told me that everything was going to be just fine and that he believed in me and that he loved me. That was pretty cool. I liked it. I was sad to have to leave my heartroom. He didn't tell me to stop worrying so much because he had a plan... he just said that everything would be fine. And that was pretty comforting to me.
A lot of times I wish I knew what, exactly, the "plan" is. But then I wonder... maybe the plan really is that there is no plan. Maybe the plan is that God has given me a set of talents and desires and when I grow in my relationship with him, I'll figure out what to do with them so that I can best make him proud.
Maybe the issue isn't that if I make the wrong decision, I'll screw my entire life up. Maybe there isn't even a "wrong" decision. Maybe that's why all of my possible paths seem so right to me. Maybe as long as I do something, and if I do it for the glory of God, then maybe that's what God wants. Right?
That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. I've been putting way too much pressure on myself to be "correct." Especially since I truly believe that if I screw up, my entire life is doomed. That's no way to live.
Tonight at Mass, after receiving the Eucharist, I went into my heartroom and sat on Jesus' lap on a log on a beach and looked out at the sunset from across the ocean. And Jesus kissed me on the forehead and told me that everything was going to be just fine and that he believed in me and that he loved me. That was pretty cool. I liked it. I was sad to have to leave my heartroom. He didn't tell me to stop worrying so much because he had a plan... he just said that everything would be fine. And that was pretty comforting to me.
A lot of times I wish I knew what, exactly, the "plan" is. But then I wonder... maybe the plan really is that there is no plan. Maybe the plan is that God has given me a set of talents and desires and when I grow in my relationship with him, I'll figure out what to do with them so that I can best make him proud.
Maybe the issue isn't that if I make the wrong decision, I'll screw my entire life up. Maybe there isn't even a "wrong" decision. Maybe that's why all of my possible paths seem so right to me. Maybe as long as I do something, and if I do it for the glory of God, then maybe that's what God wants. Right?
That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. I've been putting way too much pressure on myself to be "correct." Especially since I truly believe that if I screw up, my entire life is doomed. That's no way to live.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
and honestly, I'm down like the economy.
Life is just so darn confusing. It's like Chicago weather: one day it's snowing (yesterday), and the next, raining, all day long (today). Who DOES that?! Do I want to be walking through the parking lot to Mass in the RAIN on Christmas Eve?? I don't think so. The worst part is that it's still at this borderline temperature between rain and snow, so basically all this rain we're getting is currently transforming all of our roads into gigantic ice skating rinks... which would be fun, if only our cars could be equipped with skates for their wheels. If only!
But you see, my life makes just about as much sense as the weather right now. How is it that my interests can change so much? Have I been living my life on the border between passions? Can I have the best of both worlds? What's with all the twisting and turning, God? Can't you just tell me what the stink you want me to do and reassure me for once, rather than lead me down a particular path and then tell me to go in the opposite direction? Hm? Is that so much to ask?
I love theology. A lot. I love the spiritual aspects of theology more-so than the doctrinal stuff. I'm pretty selfish with my theology--I try to make everything I learn relevant to my life, and if it isn't, then I just don't care about it. I mostly just don't like learning half the things a bunch of old stuffy theologians have to say in their silly textbooks. I want to see God beyond a bunch of biblical texts arranged by men with an agenda (which isn't to say that the Bible isn't authoritative because of this fact... it's just an observation). I love to be able to wait in line at the grocery store and see God reveal Godself in such magnificent ways there. I love to look at the simple things, reflect on them, pray on them, let those things draw me closer to God, and write about it. I do believe there is an obviously tremendous amount of wisdom in studying the Bible and being involved in the Church... and believe me, I am heavily involved in the Church community... I wouldn't have it any other way. I just also believe that it's not fair to put God in a church-shaped box. For crying out, we celebrate today the very fact that an infinite-sized God chose to become flesh. Even God doesn't want to stay up and out of reach like a full cookie jar to a five-year-old! God is HERE. And HERE doesn't just mean in one place... it means... HERE. Everywhere! When Jesus was born, it wasn't in the most obvious of places. It was in a manger, for Pete's sake. When I'm married and about to deliver my little bundle of joy, it's probably not going to be in a manger with a bunch of awful smelling farm animals.
I always have this inkling that I have this big mission to accomplish. I think I keep seeing glimpses of it but right now, I just don't know what it is. I only have a few pieces of the puzzle. I know I love theology, which is a piece, and I know that I love to write, which is another piece. I also love bus driving, serving others, being in relationship with others, making people laugh, and making people think... which are all important pieces. I just hate puzzles. I always hated puzzles. I don't have the patience for puzzles. Just when I think the puzzle is going to look one way, it turns out to be completely different, or I'm missing an important piece, or I realize that the picture on the box goes with a completely different puzzle because I'm the dumb ass who put the dang thing in the wrong box.
How is it that deciding to apply to DePaul gives me just as many strong feelings of excitement as applying to the JVC? How is it that living in Minnesota for the rest of my life sounds equally as appealing as living in Chicago for the rest of my life? How is it that no matter what fantasy I allow my mind to dream up, they ALL sound great? How the stink am I supposed to make a decision with that? Hm? I thought the deal was that when faced with a big life decision, you're supposed to go with your gut and with what makes you feel the most excited and at peace. What if they all make you feel excited? What if they all make you feel peaceful and unpeaceful? What if the part of me that truly desires to become a writer is the same as the part of me that truly desires to volunteer? What are my motives for volunteering? Were the fueled by the possible outcome of a scholarship? Does my indecision about pastoral ministry as a career path affect my decision to volunteer? Is that a bad thing? Am I bad person for that?
What if everything in my life has lead me up to this moment. Maybe there was a reason I started journalling after Kaile died and keep with it. There's a reason the pen-palling hobby stuck. There's a reason I won all those awards for writing in elementary school and junior high. There's a reason I did Writer's Week each year in high school. There's a reason I've had tiny reflections published in my church's bulletins. There's a reason I was asked to give witness talks and speeches in front of the entire congregation. There's a reason I was published in a text book that is currently being used in my high school district. There's a reason I wanted that creative writing minor and there's a reason why I didn't complete it. There's even a reason why DePaul stuck out to me so much my sophomore year of college, and why there are currently so many important people in my life who have graduated from there who keep singing its praises. There's a reason why every single person who has ever read any serious bit of writing I've done (I guess even including various blog posts) have told me that I should be a writer. There's a reason I've kept a blog since high school and there's a reason why when I start to write a short reflection or email, they always, without fail, turn into this long thing and I always apologize for writing so much but I just can't help it. There's even a reason why I love filling out forms so much. There's a reason why when I met this one friend in college, he told me right off the bat, "Your name sounds like it should appear on the cover of a book one day." There's a reason that I've met someone who wants to write a book, too, and who I am going to seriously get together with to accomplish this life dream.
My dreams of teaching or becoming an author always involve writing. I have something important to say and it's trying really hard to come out but I don't quite know how to express it... but everytime I write, I think I'm a little closer to it. I think I need practice. I think I should at least apply to DePaul. Perhaps I'll apply to both. I don't know what my heart wants right now. I think my heart might be in a honeymoon stage with the idea of applying to DePaul. I think maybe if a little time passes and I'm still interested in it, then I'll have a better idea. I hate waiting around. I hate being in the unknown. I just want to KNOW.
And I KNEW this would happen. I KNEW that the second I came up with a plan, God would show me something different. It alllllways works out that way, doesn't it. God just HAS to keep things interesting. Oy.
Anyway. Merry Christmas. Remember what the reason is for the season (Jesus). Though I'm not gonna lie, when my inner five-year-old came out tonight because I received the most presents... even though I hate the abundance of presents and I asked for nothing... I was genuinely excited to rip them open and brag about my loot. Right then.
But you see, my life makes just about as much sense as the weather right now. How is it that my interests can change so much? Have I been living my life on the border between passions? Can I have the best of both worlds? What's with all the twisting and turning, God? Can't you just tell me what the stink you want me to do and reassure me for once, rather than lead me down a particular path and then tell me to go in the opposite direction? Hm? Is that so much to ask?
I love theology. A lot. I love the spiritual aspects of theology more-so than the doctrinal stuff. I'm pretty selfish with my theology--I try to make everything I learn relevant to my life, and if it isn't, then I just don't care about it. I mostly just don't like learning half the things a bunch of old stuffy theologians have to say in their silly textbooks. I want to see God beyond a bunch of biblical texts arranged by men with an agenda (which isn't to say that the Bible isn't authoritative because of this fact... it's just an observation). I love to be able to wait in line at the grocery store and see God reveal Godself in such magnificent ways there. I love to look at the simple things, reflect on them, pray on them, let those things draw me closer to God, and write about it. I do believe there is an obviously tremendous amount of wisdom in studying the Bible and being involved in the Church... and believe me, I am heavily involved in the Church community... I wouldn't have it any other way. I just also believe that it's not fair to put God in a church-shaped box. For crying out, we celebrate today the very fact that an infinite-sized God chose to become flesh. Even God doesn't want to stay up and out of reach like a full cookie jar to a five-year-old! God is HERE. And HERE doesn't just mean in one place... it means... HERE. Everywhere! When Jesus was born, it wasn't in the most obvious of places. It was in a manger, for Pete's sake. When I'm married and about to deliver my little bundle of joy, it's probably not going to be in a manger with a bunch of awful smelling farm animals.
I always have this inkling that I have this big mission to accomplish. I think I keep seeing glimpses of it but right now, I just don't know what it is. I only have a few pieces of the puzzle. I know I love theology, which is a piece, and I know that I love to write, which is another piece. I also love bus driving, serving others, being in relationship with others, making people laugh, and making people think... which are all important pieces. I just hate puzzles. I always hated puzzles. I don't have the patience for puzzles. Just when I think the puzzle is going to look one way, it turns out to be completely different, or I'm missing an important piece, or I realize that the picture on the box goes with a completely different puzzle because I'm the dumb ass who put the dang thing in the wrong box.
How is it that deciding to apply to DePaul gives me just as many strong feelings of excitement as applying to the JVC? How is it that living in Minnesota for the rest of my life sounds equally as appealing as living in Chicago for the rest of my life? How is it that no matter what fantasy I allow my mind to dream up, they ALL sound great? How the stink am I supposed to make a decision with that? Hm? I thought the deal was that when faced with a big life decision, you're supposed to go with your gut and with what makes you feel the most excited and at peace. What if they all make you feel excited? What if they all make you feel peaceful and unpeaceful? What if the part of me that truly desires to become a writer is the same as the part of me that truly desires to volunteer? What are my motives for volunteering? Were the fueled by the possible outcome of a scholarship? Does my indecision about pastoral ministry as a career path affect my decision to volunteer? Is that a bad thing? Am I bad person for that?
What if everything in my life has lead me up to this moment. Maybe there was a reason I started journalling after Kaile died and keep with it. There's a reason the pen-palling hobby stuck. There's a reason I won all those awards for writing in elementary school and junior high. There's a reason I did Writer's Week each year in high school. There's a reason I've had tiny reflections published in my church's bulletins. There's a reason I was asked to give witness talks and speeches in front of the entire congregation. There's a reason I was published in a text book that is currently being used in my high school district. There's a reason I wanted that creative writing minor and there's a reason why I didn't complete it. There's even a reason why DePaul stuck out to me so much my sophomore year of college, and why there are currently so many important people in my life who have graduated from there who keep singing its praises. There's a reason why every single person who has ever read any serious bit of writing I've done (I guess even including various blog posts) have told me that I should be a writer. There's a reason I've kept a blog since high school and there's a reason why when I start to write a short reflection or email, they always, without fail, turn into this long thing and I always apologize for writing so much but I just can't help it. There's even a reason why I love filling out forms so much. There's a reason why when I met this one friend in college, he told me right off the bat, "Your name sounds like it should appear on the cover of a book one day." There's a reason that I've met someone who wants to write a book, too, and who I am going to seriously get together with to accomplish this life dream.
My dreams of teaching or becoming an author always involve writing. I have something important to say and it's trying really hard to come out but I don't quite know how to express it... but everytime I write, I think I'm a little closer to it. I think I need practice. I think I should at least apply to DePaul. Perhaps I'll apply to both. I don't know what my heart wants right now. I think my heart might be in a honeymoon stage with the idea of applying to DePaul. I think maybe if a little time passes and I'm still interested in it, then I'll have a better idea. I hate waiting around. I hate being in the unknown. I just want to KNOW.
And I KNEW this would happen. I KNEW that the second I came up with a plan, God would show me something different. It alllllways works out that way, doesn't it. God just HAS to keep things interesting. Oy.
Anyway. Merry Christmas. Remember what the reason is for the season (Jesus). Though I'm not gonna lie, when my inner five-year-old came out tonight because I received the most presents... even though I hate the abundance of presents and I asked for nothing... I was genuinely excited to rip them open and brag about my loot. Right then.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
if snarky isn't a word.. it really should be.
Oh life and the curveballs you throw...
This always happens when I come down with a plan. And this was the plan--spend a year volunteering... give back to the community... gain experience... figure out what you want to do with your life... go to Loyola University for my graduate studies for either religious education or pastoral ministry.
Then I started questioning some more. Is that what you want? Furthermore... is that what God wants? What exactly is God saying? What has God been saying all along? Are you paying attention?
You see... for awhile now, I've been questioning this call I'm feeling to ministry. I don't know if I have the right gifts for it. In my experiences with ministry... at least as of recently... to be honest... I just don't think I've been doing well. I don't put my all into it. I love working with youth. But let's be real here. The ideas I have are generally not well received. I am not a great public speaker. I am shy. I don't have any experience... and the experience I do have with real ministry stuff... the stuff that goes beyond being an active participant... the stuff that involves paperwork and parents and planning (lots of p's there... it was perfectly planned)... I'm just not good at it. Okay? I'm not. I don't have the patience for that baloney. I hate it.
Furthermore... I live in my head a lot. It's not that I'm too lazy to do things... I'm just a very reflective person. I think a lot. I write a lot.
I just had a really long thought vomit session with a friend... and what came out of it is that maybe I've been preparing not only for an education in theology, but maybe, just maybe, I should seriously consider pursuing my writing. I have not met one person who has told me that I would not be a good writer. DePaul... the school I was drawn to sophomore year... offers a masters program in writing and publishing. This is all very do-able. This is so do-able I think it must have been planned. But God. How You throw me for a loop sometimes.
There's a lot more thinking about this that I would have written in this post... except I thought it over with said friend... and now I don't want to repeat it.
What do you think? Any particular thoughts and opinions?
This always happens when I come down with a plan. And this was the plan--spend a year volunteering... give back to the community... gain experience... figure out what you want to do with your life... go to Loyola University for my graduate studies for either religious education or pastoral ministry.
Then I started questioning some more. Is that what you want? Furthermore... is that what God wants? What exactly is God saying? What has God been saying all along? Are you paying attention?
You see... for awhile now, I've been questioning this call I'm feeling to ministry. I don't know if I have the right gifts for it. In my experiences with ministry... at least as of recently... to be honest... I just don't think I've been doing well. I don't put my all into it. I love working with youth. But let's be real here. The ideas I have are generally not well received. I am not a great public speaker. I am shy. I don't have any experience... and the experience I do have with real ministry stuff... the stuff that goes beyond being an active participant... the stuff that involves paperwork and parents and planning (lots of p's there... it was perfectly planned)... I'm just not good at it. Okay? I'm not. I don't have the patience for that baloney. I hate it.
Furthermore... I live in my head a lot. It's not that I'm too lazy to do things... I'm just a very reflective person. I think a lot. I write a lot.
I just had a really long thought vomit session with a friend... and what came out of it is that maybe I've been preparing not only for an education in theology, but maybe, just maybe, I should seriously consider pursuing my writing. I have not met one person who has told me that I would not be a good writer. DePaul... the school I was drawn to sophomore year... offers a masters program in writing and publishing. This is all very do-able. This is so do-able I think it must have been planned. But God. How You throw me for a loop sometimes.
There's a lot more thinking about this that I would have written in this post... except I thought it over with said friend... and now I don't want to repeat it.
What do you think? Any particular thoughts and opinions?
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Is "Squee" a word? Because whether it is or not, I'm going to use. it. SQUEE!!
Actually, now that I really look at it, I don't like the way the word "Squee" works typed out, nor do I think it really does an adequate job of describing the kind of excitement I'm feeling right now. I'm feeling very excited about a lot of things!! I don't even know where to start with my list, because they are all so very exciting... and it's not this huge list or anything... but still... I'm excited. I'm feeling joy. And then I realized... wow. It's been awhile since I've truly felt anything at all. At least not since Thanksgiving... thank you end-of-the-year Stress-zilla.
Anyway. For starters, tonight is my "up-all-night" party. It will mostly consist of me and Jesus... because I'm pretty sure none of my friends are the types who want to stay up all night with me. I suggested my idea of going to Perkins at 3:30 in the morning for breakfast and got enthusiastic initial responses... and then as the week sunk in they were not as enthusiastic about it. ha. Either way, I'm having an "up-all-night" party for one of the things that is making me so excited--because I'm going to go home via train!! Train!! I love trains!! I mean I hate that they're almost always late and that this one is coming at 5:15 in the morning... that's what the "up-all-night" party is for... because I hate waking up early and would rather just stay up all night long (one of my smarter ideas, of course). But still... I love trains. I meet the best people on trains. People want to sit and talk on a train. I'm not 50,000 feet in the air when I'm on a train. It's a long ride... about 10 hours... but it's a good ride. I don't get bored on the train. I can go to the dining car, or to the hang-out car (whatever the heck it's called). I can experience the joy of peeing on a train (it's a lot of fun... let me tell you... especially the part where I have to try and just stay on the seat because of how jerky the train can be on those tracks... I understand now why those bathrooms are so tiny... because if they weren't, you would probably fall off and that was just be awful. anyway. I am clearly off topic). Trains are just super fantastic. And I feel like I'm part of an old movie when I pull up at the train station, get off, and find my dad sitting there waiting for me after we have not seen each other in oh-so-long. The last time I took the train home, I sat near a man who kept saying, "Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup! I'm goin to da CHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!" over and over again. At least once every 10 minutes. Did it get annoying? Maybe after 3 or 4 hours. But those first few hours... he was actually pretty entertaining. Poor man had to suffer for days on that train all the way from Seattle... I think it's understandable if he was going a little crazy.
So that's reason one why I'm so excited. I'm going to be riding a train soon!! Wooooo wooooo!
I'm excited because Ashley, our current pianist for prison ministry, is going abroad next semester (which is *not* why I'm excited), leaving a place for a pianist to fill for prison Mass (which is *why* I'm excited)! I loved playing the piano all up through high school... I used to sit and practice for hours at a time, every single day. I played with the American Symphonietta and I played in band at school and I've played at Masses at church and I loved it. I fell out of love with it during the start of a difficult period in my life and I've only dabbled here and there throughout college. There has always been something to pull me back to it though... and now that I've been sincerely wanting to play again... this opportunity comes, and I'm taking it. I love going to prison for Mass, and I can get the days off work. Furthermore, I signed up for piano lessons this week and I've been planning music for liturgies the week before the actual Mass... so next semester it will just be natural you know... pick the music on Tuesday, practice it during some of my lessons, play it on Monday, repeat cycle. I'm a bit nervous about playing in front of everyone when I'm a little rusty... but I'm going to freshen up over break so hopefully I'll be singing a different tune by the time the semester starts up again. And I love prison and I love those guys at prison, and I'm excited for the opportunity to be able to go once a week instead of once a month.
I'm excited because the end of the semester is plainly in sight. The only thing blocking my way from freedom is a revision of a word vomit-type paper I wrote last night and my 8 page take home final essay/test from butt's class. And I will get it done before I have to go for work today at 5. I'm determined. I'm even going to squeeze in a workout for my sake before as well. I'm determined. And you have to understand... this has been the worst end-of-semester in the history of end-of-semesters. Last week alone I had: one test, one video-taped dance final, one journal, one final reflection paper, one e-folio, and two presentations (one 10-15 minute, one 30 minute) due... all of which I saved for the last minute... naturally. This week, I had my astronomy final and 10 page research paper due yesterday (that 10 page paper was baller... I locked myself up in the library and cranked it out in 4 hours), a final take home essay due today (which was technically due yesterday... but ain't no way I was going to do that by yesterday so I got an extension), and butt's take home final due Thursday. And now that the only things left are tweaking the final essay and my 8 pager... it feels so great. I truly believed I wasn't going to live to see this day, and now that it's here... oh man. Break is going to be so wonderful. My up all night party is going to be even more wonderful now that I can enjoy it instead of study through it. Life is good.
I'm excited for break. I'm excited for Christmas and New Years... I'm excited to see my family at my grandma's birthday part on New Years Eve... I'm not excited about not working because I need the money... but at the same time... I'm excited to have an actual break where I don't really have any adult responsibilities per say, you know what I mean, jelly bean? I'm definitely excited for my QUEST meeting on Sunday and for our presenting team mini retreat in January. I'm excited to see old friends and new friends alike. I"m excited to go back to my church, I'm excited to get to drive my mom's little box car around. I'm just excited for some good times with good people this break. It's going to be good.
I'm excited that I only gained .2 pounds this past week. I can't tell you how poorly I've been eating and little I've been exercising because of stress from finals... and I'm sad that I didn't and probably won't meet my goal of being under 200 by Christmas unless I get a major loss this next week of 4.2 pounds (which is double the recommended amount). However, if I work hard enough, I could be under 200 by New Years, or at least by the start of the semester, and I think that's a good goal to set for myself. Even though I've been gaining since Thanksgiving... I've still been experiencing many "off scale" victories... such as going into stores and realizing that extra larges are too BIG on me and that I need to go a size DOWN. This is completely new territory... I have been an extra large for as long as I can remember. And now... a large. This is amazing. And I fit into a pair of Gap jeans. I've never ever been able to fit into a pair of Gap jeans. These little discoveries have given me the motivation to pick myself up and start all over again. And I'm excited for it.
And, of course, it's advent. I should have been excited and preparing all advent season. It makes sense that I'm excited right now. What more is there to be excited about than the birth of Jesus? I mean really? It's a pretty big deal. :o) It's deserving of another post at another time. So for now... I'm going to eat a little something, then go to the library and get my stuff done. I'm excited! :o)
Anyway. For starters, tonight is my "up-all-night" party. It will mostly consist of me and Jesus... because I'm pretty sure none of my friends are the types who want to stay up all night with me. I suggested my idea of going to Perkins at 3:30 in the morning for breakfast and got enthusiastic initial responses... and then as the week sunk in they were not as enthusiastic about it. ha. Either way, I'm having an "up-all-night" party for one of the things that is making me so excited--because I'm going to go home via train!! Train!! I love trains!! I mean I hate that they're almost always late and that this one is coming at 5:15 in the morning... that's what the "up-all-night" party is for... because I hate waking up early and would rather just stay up all night long (one of my smarter ideas, of course). But still... I love trains. I meet the best people on trains. People want to sit and talk on a train. I'm not 50,000 feet in the air when I'm on a train. It's a long ride... about 10 hours... but it's a good ride. I don't get bored on the train. I can go to the dining car, or to the hang-out car (whatever the heck it's called). I can experience the joy of peeing on a train (it's a lot of fun... let me tell you... especially the part where I have to try and just stay on the seat because of how jerky the train can be on those tracks... I understand now why those bathrooms are so tiny... because if they weren't, you would probably fall off and that was just be awful. anyway. I am clearly off topic). Trains are just super fantastic. And I feel like I'm part of an old movie when I pull up at the train station, get off, and find my dad sitting there waiting for me after we have not seen each other in oh-so-long. The last time I took the train home, I sat near a man who kept saying, "Yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup! I'm goin to da CHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!" over and over again. At least once every 10 minutes. Did it get annoying? Maybe after 3 or 4 hours. But those first few hours... he was actually pretty entertaining. Poor man had to suffer for days on that train all the way from Seattle... I think it's understandable if he was going a little crazy.
So that's reason one why I'm so excited. I'm going to be riding a train soon!! Wooooo wooooo!
I'm excited because Ashley, our current pianist for prison ministry, is going abroad next semester (which is *not* why I'm excited), leaving a place for a pianist to fill for prison Mass (which is *why* I'm excited)! I loved playing the piano all up through high school... I used to sit and practice for hours at a time, every single day. I played with the American Symphonietta and I played in band at school and I've played at Masses at church and I loved it. I fell out of love with it during the start of a difficult period in my life and I've only dabbled here and there throughout college. There has always been something to pull me back to it though... and now that I've been sincerely wanting to play again... this opportunity comes, and I'm taking it. I love going to prison for Mass, and I can get the days off work. Furthermore, I signed up for piano lessons this week and I've been planning music for liturgies the week before the actual Mass... so next semester it will just be natural you know... pick the music on Tuesday, practice it during some of my lessons, play it on Monday, repeat cycle. I'm a bit nervous about playing in front of everyone when I'm a little rusty... but I'm going to freshen up over break so hopefully I'll be singing a different tune by the time the semester starts up again. And I love prison and I love those guys at prison, and I'm excited for the opportunity to be able to go once a week instead of once a month.
I'm excited because the end of the semester is plainly in sight. The only thing blocking my way from freedom is a revision of a word vomit-type paper I wrote last night and my 8 page take home final essay/test from butt's class. And I will get it done before I have to go for work today at 5. I'm determined. I'm even going to squeeze in a workout for my sake before as well. I'm determined. And you have to understand... this has been the worst end-of-semester in the history of end-of-semesters. Last week alone I had: one test, one video-taped dance final, one journal, one final reflection paper, one e-folio, and two presentations (one 10-15 minute, one 30 minute) due... all of which I saved for the last minute... naturally. This week, I had my astronomy final and 10 page research paper due yesterday (that 10 page paper was baller... I locked myself up in the library and cranked it out in 4 hours), a final take home essay due today (which was technically due yesterday... but ain't no way I was going to do that by yesterday so I got an extension), and butt's take home final due Thursday. And now that the only things left are tweaking the final essay and my 8 pager... it feels so great. I truly believed I wasn't going to live to see this day, and now that it's here... oh man. Break is going to be so wonderful. My up all night party is going to be even more wonderful now that I can enjoy it instead of study through it. Life is good.
I'm excited for break. I'm excited for Christmas and New Years... I'm excited to see my family at my grandma's birthday part on New Years Eve... I'm not excited about not working because I need the money... but at the same time... I'm excited to have an actual break where I don't really have any adult responsibilities per say, you know what I mean, jelly bean? I'm definitely excited for my QUEST meeting on Sunday and for our presenting team mini retreat in January. I'm excited to see old friends and new friends alike. I"m excited to go back to my church, I'm excited to get to drive my mom's little box car around. I'm just excited for some good times with good people this break. It's going to be good.
I'm excited that I only gained .2 pounds this past week. I can't tell you how poorly I've been eating and little I've been exercising because of stress from finals... and I'm sad that I didn't and probably won't meet my goal of being under 200 by Christmas unless I get a major loss this next week of 4.2 pounds (which is double the recommended amount). However, if I work hard enough, I could be under 200 by New Years, or at least by the start of the semester, and I think that's a good goal to set for myself. Even though I've been gaining since Thanksgiving... I've still been experiencing many "off scale" victories... such as going into stores and realizing that extra larges are too BIG on me and that I need to go a size DOWN. This is completely new territory... I have been an extra large for as long as I can remember. And now... a large. This is amazing. And I fit into a pair of Gap jeans. I've never ever been able to fit into a pair of Gap jeans. These little discoveries have given me the motivation to pick myself up and start all over again. And I'm excited for it.
And, of course, it's advent. I should have been excited and preparing all advent season. It makes sense that I'm excited right now. What more is there to be excited about than the birth of Jesus? I mean really? It's a pretty big deal. :o) It's deserving of another post at another time. So for now... I'm going to eat a little something, then go to the library and get my stuff done. I'm excited! :o)
Thursday, December 10, 2009
I just wanted to make someone's dreams come true...
Tonight was awful. I gave one of the hands down *worst* presentations I've ever given. On the plus side... I'm done with that Godforsaken class at the SOT... but seriously... I wish I could have ended with more of a bang than this. It was just the epitome of awful. And I"m already so stressed out in that class to meet my prof's expectations when I have no clear cut example of what her expectations are... I have no idea what "grad school-level" is, and to be completely honest, no, I am not at grad school-level, even as a senior undergrad student. Okay? I have not had as much experience as the rest of my class in this level. I feel like I should be graded slightly different because of that. I mean. Not a lot. But I just need that extra help, you know? And when I asked for it, I did not receive it. But anyway. Awful presentation. I've been questioning what the heck I'm supposed to do with the rest of my life... and now I'm not so sure ministry is my calling. I don't even know if teaching is my calling if I can't even speak in front of the class like that. I guess in my defense... initially I was feeling confident... but when my partner started to get nervous I started to get nervous and then it all went downhill when I looked to my prof for comfort and got that blank stare from her... GOD I hate that blank stare... the one that shows she is clearly not listening because she thinks you're doing a shitty job. I still have this desire to pursue music and pursue my writing. I wonder if a theology major was a mistake. Maybe a minor would have been better. Maybe I should have majored in English. I don't know. I know there's nothing I can do about it now... and I don't completely regret it... but I wonder. Do I feel called to ministry simply because it's all I know?
I thought during class about taking this next year off. Just take it off. Get a job somewhere... anywhere... preferably a coffee shop... I've always wanted to learn how to make good coffee and I love the coffee shop atmosphere. Depending on how much I make and what I can afford... I'd like to take some random night classes... like floral arrangement, or cooking, or... I don't know... juggling flaming torches. Who knows. Just explore. Just learn. No pressure. Just figure out who I am.
In all my years here in Minnesota... I always felt like something big was missing. I have great friends up here and great experiences. I've taken classes I've loved and classes I've hated. I have a job I truly adore. I've grown in my faith here. But still. Something's missing. What is it? What's missing? Who am I?
I feel burnt out from all these years in school. I just want a sabbatical. I don't even know if volunteering would count as this. I feel like I should be rested before I can devote myself to someone in need. Furthermore... I feel like I should have more of myself figured out. You know what I mean? I would really just love a year off. Live with my family again. Cook for them. Be more involved in church. Figure out who I am. Learn and live and experience. Then figure out what I want to do. But I don't want anymore education right now. I just need a break. Is that reasonable? What do you think I should do?
Anyway. Tonight I had a shitty presentation and crisis of faith all in 3 hours. I received another 8 page paper that's due next week on a subject matter of which I am not completely sure I know what I'm talking about. But God knew exactly what I needed.
It was so simple. I was standing around waiting for the bus at Sexton when a girl came through and asked me if I was going back to St. Ben's and would like a ride. I've seen her before... I think I must have met her earlier... so I agreed.
On the way to her car she said, "You know, whenever I'm stuck waiting at Sexton, I always have this secret hope that one day someone will leave and ask me if I'd like a ride. I just wanted to do that for someone else." I just thought that was so profound. You know? Totally awesome. Just asking some complete stranger if they'd like a ride because you have always wanted that yourself and you do it because you know that if that were to happen to you, you would feel a great amount of joy. I think I would like to adopt that kind of attitude for the way I live my life.
Anyway. I promised myself that after eating this bag of M&Ms I would get to serious work on my Pauline Letters presentation (which I haven't started yet... oops). I'm not done with my M&Ms yet... but i really wanted to play Bingo on pogo.com... because I'm addicted to it. So bye.
I thought during class about taking this next year off. Just take it off. Get a job somewhere... anywhere... preferably a coffee shop... I've always wanted to learn how to make good coffee and I love the coffee shop atmosphere. Depending on how much I make and what I can afford... I'd like to take some random night classes... like floral arrangement, or cooking, or... I don't know... juggling flaming torches. Who knows. Just explore. Just learn. No pressure. Just figure out who I am.
In all my years here in Minnesota... I always felt like something big was missing. I have great friends up here and great experiences. I've taken classes I've loved and classes I've hated. I have a job I truly adore. I've grown in my faith here. But still. Something's missing. What is it? What's missing? Who am I?
I feel burnt out from all these years in school. I just want a sabbatical. I don't even know if volunteering would count as this. I feel like I should be rested before I can devote myself to someone in need. Furthermore... I feel like I should have more of myself figured out. You know what I mean? I would really just love a year off. Live with my family again. Cook for them. Be more involved in church. Figure out who I am. Learn and live and experience. Then figure out what I want to do. But I don't want anymore education right now. I just need a break. Is that reasonable? What do you think I should do?
Anyway. Tonight I had a shitty presentation and crisis of faith all in 3 hours. I received another 8 page paper that's due next week on a subject matter of which I am not completely sure I know what I'm talking about. But God knew exactly what I needed.
It was so simple. I was standing around waiting for the bus at Sexton when a girl came through and asked me if I was going back to St. Ben's and would like a ride. I've seen her before... I think I must have met her earlier... so I agreed.
On the way to her car she said, "You know, whenever I'm stuck waiting at Sexton, I always have this secret hope that one day someone will leave and ask me if I'd like a ride. I just wanted to do that for someone else." I just thought that was so profound. You know? Totally awesome. Just asking some complete stranger if they'd like a ride because you have always wanted that yourself and you do it because you know that if that were to happen to you, you would feel a great amount of joy. I think I would like to adopt that kind of attitude for the way I live my life.
Anyway. I promised myself that after eating this bag of M&Ms I would get to serious work on my Pauline Letters presentation (which I haven't started yet... oops). I'm not done with my M&Ms yet... but i really wanted to play Bingo on pogo.com... because I'm addicted to it. So bye.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
