One Love.

If I speak in human and angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy, and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast, but do not have love. I gain nothing.

-1 Corinthians 13:1-3

The Bishop came to my college mass tonight to speak, and he told the congregation that the theme for this week's readings was "One Love." And then of course, the second reading was the very famous and often quoted 1 Corinthians. And even though most people can quote the next few verses, "Love is patient, love is kind..." and so on, the verses I've listed above are the parts of this passage that hit me the hardest.

No matter what you have, no matter what great talent you think you possess, you are nothing without love. No matter if you are a king or doctor or preacher or writer... you are nothing without love. It's that simple. And yes, this is a vigorously repeated thought that has been taught for centuries through folktales like King Midas and his golden touch, but somehow, this fact belittles me. It discredits a small theory I have of my own. My theory is that my career, my writing, and my future is what is important. It is what matters most right now.

"Don't get wrapped up in a boy," I tell myself. "Don't get emotional." But the truth is I am afraid. I scare myself out of love. When it comes to finding my "significant other," I can never tell if "this one" is worth that sacrifice. So I usually question it and retreat.

Just last night, my friend, S. asked me a question about my current relationship, "What are you waiting for?" And my answer, of course, had to deal with my career and my future. But I get it... I do get it. What do I have without love?

The answer is nothing. And that is probably way scarier than commitment.

Paying it Forward

A friend and I were having a discussion the other day, and we both decided that we really want to become very wealthy and then use that wealth to help people in small ways. I don't want to donate a large sum to charity. That's way too easy! I want to have some fun with it. Some possible examples we came up with include:

**Pay for someone who is in line behind you, either at the movies or at a drive-through.

**Put a large wad of money in the collection at church.

**Leave a VERY generuous tip.

**Mail an anonymous letter with some cash inside to a random address in the phone book.

**Hand out free tokens at an arcade.

**Go to an auction and by a crazy item for way above it's worth.

**Buy everyone a drink in the bar. (Just one, so as not to promote alcoholism)

**Purchase coffee and doughnuts and have them anonymously sent to a police station.

**Pay for everyone's gas who pulls up to a gas pump for a certain time frame.

**Pay a hundred people's toll at a toll booth.

See the possibilites are endless! And in these ways you are able to bring a smile to someone's face... at least for a little while. And just imagine how many people you could touch with these small deeds.

Then, we also thought, you could include a business card with every deed you do, that simply read:

Pay it forward.

(And include this card when you do.)

And then how crazy/ironic would it be when one afternoon after a long, crappy day at work you go to your vehicle, (in which you parked in front of a fire hydrant, because you were late for work that morning) just to see a pre-paid parking ticket and that very same business card tucked under your windshield.

That would be enough to make me smile for an entire week. And then of course you could start the circle all over again by sending a birthday card to every person whose birthday is listed in the newspaper. How fun would that be?

Signs

I just opened the Bible to a random spot and read the first words I saw:

Then some of the scribes and Pharisees said to him, "Teacher, we wish to see a sign from you." He said to them in reply, "An evil and unfaithful generation seeks a sign, but no sign will be given it except the sign of Jonah the prophet." -Matthew 13:38-39

I get it. I should believe without seeing, believe without getting any signs. But sometimes I just don't know what to do and seeing some sort of sign gives me hope. Is that wrong?

This passage just really made me think. And the way I see it is... at least I have my eyes open, right? At least I am looking for the signs of God and the signs of love and beauty in the world around me. At least I am not completely blind to the glory of God like some people. At least I believe that God really does guide me. Is that wrong?

I am not trying to say that I am any better than any one else... I guess I am just trying to prove to myself that wanting and looking for signs from God isn't a bad thing. I guess it's kind of silly to question it, because I know the relationship I have with my God, and I shouldn't have to justify that to anyone.

Right?

God?

Can I get a sign? :)

Invincible

So... I sprained my AC in my left shoulder about three and half weeks ago, and today, after a week of therapy I was put into a sling. I'm not getting any better. It's horrible, and I feel so restricted without the use of my left arm.

But what this really makes me think about is how all our bodies are aging. They are all actually getting closer and closer to shutting down. Kind of depressing I know, but it's completely true!

And this just goes to prove that I am not invincible like I thought I was. And that working out and eating healthy doesn't give me a first-class ticket to living forever, for it was while working out that my shoulder started hurting in the first place.

Like I've probably mentioned a couple times before, I don't like being told I can't do something. And with this sling on my arm, I can't work out. I can't put on my jacket. I can't comb my hair. And this all leads to me not living forever. Now, even though I probably won't want to live forever anyway, because I would probably get really lonely and bored and old, I just wish I had the choice. But who really has that choice anyway right...

So for right now, I just wish I could stratch my back.

Enough to Fill Me Up

Just a quick little tip to help you realize how much you are actually eating...

Yesterday, I grabbed myself a single-sized, raspberry yogurt and some granola cereal for supper. Well the container of yogurt was pretty full when I opened it, so I decided to empty the yogurt into a bowl in order to be able to add more granola on top. Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out what else I wanted to eat, since the yogurt and granola probably wouldn't be enough to fill me up.

BUT I was completely surprised to see how much yogurt was actually in that small little container. When I eat yogurt directly out of it's pre-packaged container, it seems like there is barely any yogurt in there, but once I dumped it out, I realized there is actually quite a bit of yogurt in one serving, and I felt fuller after eating from the bowl.

And then I thought, well if this little trick works with yogurt, it just might work with other packaged products too. So I grabbed a 100 Calorie Pack Ritz Snack Mix, which I again dumped onto a plate instead of eating it directly from the package. AND AGAIN, it looked like a lot more food than I thought was ever in those tiny packages... and all for only 100 Calories!?

Just thought I'd share my discovery, hoping it might help someone else too! Try removing your food from it's pre-package and see if you feel fuller faster, because it feels like you are eating more! Miraculously, it worked for me!

Too Happy? No, Not Me!

OMG! I just received a "Happy Blog Award" from my friend and fellow blogger, stillarockstar. Thank you so much! I'm honored to be one of your ten!

Now, the rules are I am supposed to list ten things that make me happy and pass the award onto ten bloggers who I also find worthy. So here goes... Ten things that make me HAPPY.


1. Of course, my number one is my family... I am blest with the best family in the world, my parents and three sisters, and of course, my best friend Messie Jessie is included as well. I love them all to death and thank them for all their support and love. I am always the HAPPIEST when I am with them.

2. Pi Beta Phi and all my sorority sisters... I couldn't imagine college without my sorority sisters. All the things we do together are so special and rewarding. I love you all. Every single one of you! I am HAPPY at school, because of you!

3. A certain guy with potential... I have been seeing this guy, and he makes me smile. When we are together, I am entirely all too HAPPY. He does that to me.

4. Writing... I am so HAPPY when I am writing, because I feel like I am able to just let go and throw my thoughts onto paper. It is how I best communicate. It's my escape.

5. Movies... Like I've mentioned, movies feel all too real to me. Romantic comedies in particular, make me feel so wonderful and hopeful, because in the end, it all works out. The guy gets the girl, and the girl is HAPPY!

6. Music... Tunes are the background music of my life. I just can't help but feel HAPPY when I am listening to to my IPOD.

7. Praying... My God is an awesome God, and I always feel a sense of peace and calm when I am praying. I feel HAPPY knowing that I am never alone in this crazy world!

8. Sleeping... I don't know, but every night, I am always HAPPY to get to sleep. My bed is so warm and cozy! I love finally relaxing after a long day.

9. A full day of shopping... Stereotypcial girl thing, but I love it. I love going and finding something that looks great on me or that fits my personality. It makes me feel HAPPY when I look good.

10. A huge glass of ice water... I love me some ice cold water. I feel healthy and refreshed when I drink water and always seem to crave it. Like when others crave pop, instead, I crave me some "high quality H2O." It makes me HAPPY!

These are my top ten. What makes you HAPPY? :)

I Feel Pathetic.

Isn't it weird how being accompanied by someone some how makes you feel less pathetic? Like if you are crying after a romantic movie, as long as someone else is crying too, you feel like it's okay. Or if you are being really really goofy, as long as someone else is there with you being goofy too, it really doesn't make you crazy. Or if you eat a large piece of chocolate cake, as long as you have a friend beside you with a fork, you feel less fat.

But is it really that you feel less pathetic when someone else feels pathetic too? Or does it just DOUBLE the patheticness of the situation now that there are two of you?

I feel pathetic.

And even if having someone here with me only doubled the patheticness of my situation, I still wish someone was here.

(Excerpt from my journal, March 31, 2009)

The Legendary #4

I don't know if I've yet mentioned my love for the Green Bay Packers... or more deeply, my love for Brett Favre. Ya I know, he's old... but he is one of the best quarterbacks who has ever played in the NFL.

Just minutes ago, I watched on TV as Favre and the Minnesota Vikings lost their bid to Superbowl 2009. (Yes, I still watch him even now that he wears purple and gold.) There is just something about him. He makes every game he plays in worth watching.

Now I really don't know what it is that makes Favre so great... It could be his long history with the game or his ability to make perfect, lightening speed throws even while unstable or the fact that he's practically unstoppable, starting in 309 consecutive games, or maybe it's the awesome enthusiasm he possesses every time he steps onto the field. Who knows really?

All I know is... the press can't stop talking about him. Even as the Saints won the Superbowl, flashes of Favre were on the screen every five seconds. And even though I was always a die hard Packer fan, somehow I can't resist following Favre on his journey from the Packers to the Jets and now to the Vikings.

He's a legend. #4 is legendary. And although I wish to take nothing away from the Saints, I really hoped the Vikings could have won tonight, just to prove to everyone once again:

Brett Favre does not need to retire.

The Pregnancy Pact

The Pregnancy Pact, a new Lifetime movie, based on a true story...

In which there are eighteen high school girls pregnant in one Massachusetts town...

Four of which made a pact to become pregnant at the same time...

It is a really intriguing story that helps to open our eyes to the pressures teens face to be sexually active. It is written in the songs they listen to, the movies that they watch, and the books that they read. Everyone else is doing it...

Don't hand out contraceptives, because it's encouraging the behavior. But don't assume it's not happening...

There are 6,020 teenage pregnancies in Iowa each year. The sad thing is Iowa has the 8th lowest rate out of all the states.

Parents... Have the conversation...

Face Painting

Tonight the SC Track team had a lock-in for middle school students and like always I helped man the face painting booth. It is always so interesting to see what those kids want painted on their faces. We had mustaches and Iowa Hawkeyes and stars and hearts and doughtnuts. I painted butterflies and peace signs and suns and snakes and sideburns and unibrows. It's amazing to see these kids personalities shine through in their desires, and it's so hilarious to see these kids walking around with five to ten items painted all over their bodies. I can only imagine what their parents must think when these kids climb into the vehicle when the night is finally over...

But during this chaotic madness of children lining up with their Pixie sticks and Ring Pops, just waiting to be plastered in what we only hope will wash off in their shower tonight...

I was able to witness a pretty magnificent moment...

It is that moment right after you've dipped your brush into the paint and just before you touch the brush to the child's face... the anticipation... a smirk coming to that child's lips.. it lingers... waiting... their eyes widen... a little longer...

And then it comes... the smile. That tickles. And I, too, smile... every single time.

Just One of Those Days

Do you ever have one of those days where you are just so annoyed with everyone and everything no matter what they are saying or doing? You find irritation in someone's tone or action or response or gesture or laugh... People who are normally your best friends are people that you just can not stand today...

And you try to hold in your irritation and anger, but it just starts filling you up like a hot dish boiling over on the stove... And yes, you are fine and no nothing's wrong... Everyone just leave me alone before I explode and do something I regret!!

And it really sucks, because although you know you are overreacting and understand that you sound pretty ticked off, there is practically nothing you can do to calm yourself, except crawl into your bed and wait it out.

Yes, wait out the storm, hoping it will pass... Or dive head first into someone's arms and squeeze...

Which Farmer are You?

There were once two farmers who both prayed to the Lord for rain for their crops. While one waited around for the rain, the other farmer prepared his crops to receive the rain. Which farmer are you? Which farmer am I? Am I preparing myself for God's rain? Just something to think about...

Story from the movie: "Facing the Giants" (2006).

Sharing: Then and Now

I think it is funny that in preschool sharing is pushed so heavily by our teachers as the right thing to do. Of course, our teachers were talking about our animal crackers or a new toy we received for Christmas.

No one ever hints to you that it is such a scary thing, that it is such a scary thing to share your thoughts, your dreams, and your feelings. It's scary to share your life and your one true self with anyone really.

It makes you vulnerable, arms wide open, waiting and hoping that you won't get hurt this time, hoping that whoever comes along will accept you.

It takes courage to open up. And I've always found myself lacking that courage, too scared of the consequences.

Or am I simply that selfish preschool brat not wanting to play with the toy, but not wanting anyone else to enjoy it either.

I hated that kid.

(Excerpt from my journal, March 11, 2009)

Addressing Professors

Yesterday, my sister and I were talking and got onto the subject of addressing professors. Why do some professors believe it is completely unprofessional and disrespectful for their students to call them by their first name? Here's my opinion:

The way I see it is, we, the professor and I, have a contract, and although, they do deserve my respect, why should I owe them any more respect than they do me? I should be able to call or address a professor by his/her first name, as shall he/she be able to address me in the same manner. It might be different had he/she been doing me a favor, but I am paying him/her for goodness sakes and quite a bit of money at that.

We have a contract. I expect to be respected by him/her and to be taught, and he/she should expect to be respected and to be paid. Why would it not be acceptable to call he/she by their first name? Do they not like their first name? Their first name is used in practically every other part of their lives. It's not disrespectful. It's simply the name they were given at birth.

Now, I do understand that nicknames would not be appropriate, considering that I would not be comfortable with them calling me by some of my nicknames. But if we are to stick with the current system, in which we address them as Professor Smith or Doctor Barnes, should they not also address us, the students, as Mr. Carey or Ms. Taylor? It seems only right.

And not that this is a major issue or huge pet-peeve of mine nor do I usually protest general rules or policies, but to those professors who think they are way more sophisticated than everyone else because of their title or white coat, here is my argument. And it is simply that you should feel just as much respect when I address you by your first name as you do when I add Professor or Doctor. For did you not demand respect before you received your title ...or are you not good enough without it?

Today I got mine.

Today's church readings depicted God giving us gifts for us to use to spread His glory, and they really spoke to me. The second reading was from 1 Corinthians 12:4-11, and is as follows:

There are many different gifts, but it is always the same spirit. There are many different ways of serving, but it is always the same LORD. There are many different forms of activity, but in everybody it is the same GOD who is at work in them all. The particular manifestation of the SPIRIT granted to each one is to be used for the general good. To one is given from the SPIRIT the gift of utterance expressing wisdom; to another the gift of utterance expressing knowledge, in accordance with the same SPIRIT; to another, faith, from the same SPIRIT; and to another, the gifts of healing, through this one SPIRIT; to another, the working of miracles; to another, prophecy; to another, the power of distinguishing spirits; to one the gift of different tongues and to another, the interpretation of tongues. But at work in all of these is one and the same SPIRIT, distributing them at will to each individual.

After hearing this, I couldn't help but think about the way I've been feeling lately (Reference: Blog titled, "Half Way to Forty-Five"), and this bible verse seemed to help me understand. I have many gifts, and it ultimately doesn't matter what they are, except that I should be using them, not for my own benefit, but to glorify my LORD and to bring about greater good. But as portrayed in my previous blog, I have also been struggling with the fact that I've yet to do anything with my gifts. I feel like I've done very little with my life. Thus continued these thoughts and thus continued mass. The Gospel was read: John 2:1-11, and to shorten it for you all, here is my version of the story:

Jesus had been living with his parents growing and gaining wisdom. Then one day, there was a wedding in Cana that Jesus and his mother attended. Before long, they ran out of wine. So JESUS performing one of his first miracle works, turned six stone water jars of water into wine. This was the first of Jesus' signs, in which he revealed his glory, and his disciples believed him.

Okay so I listened to this story, but it wasn't until my priest's Homily that I really understood what GOD was trying to say to me. Again, my version:

My priest said, that like us, JESUS was given gifts from the HOLY SPIRIT. And while living with his family, he was learning and perfecting those gifts in order to use them to the best of his ability. And it wasn't until this moment, this wedding, in which he changed water into wine, that he first revealed his glory. Before that, he was just a regular old Joe, just like all of us.

So while I have been feeling like I have done nothing to better the world, perhaps this is my time to be perfecting my gifts, for I am in college, learning and growing, both intellectually and spiritually. Right now I am just a regular old Joe, but perhaps I've just been preparing for my "first great miracle," in which I truely share GOD'S glory, through a gift of my own. Maybe it will be my first book... or my first job... who knows? But this just goes to show, that if you ask the LORD for His help, He will get you an answer in his own time. Today, I got mine.

If You Give a Mouse a Cookie...

"If you give a mouse a cookie, he will ask for a glass of milk?" Ever read that book?

Well with me, it's more like: Give ReALIty a cookie, and she'll ask for another cookie! (I say this as I finish off my second Chips Ahoy! cookie. Thanks to my roommate for those calories.)

But I do think it is kinda of interesting that half the time I am never really craving the food I eat, but instead, I get one taste and can't help but want more!

This happens to me specifically with BBQ chips. I never really crave BBQ chips, I rarely purchase them, and I very rarely incorporate them into my meal. But if I see a bag and get one chip into my mouth... I pretty much down the entire bag afterwards. This also happens to me with Hot Tamales. I never purchase this candy. I never find myself wishing I had a box. But then someone else has some, I try one... and it's all over folks! The box is gone in minutes. Turns out I end up enjoying these foods a lot more than the foods I crave constantly or actually order at restaurants.

And since food is pretty much my life, I find this strange and unusual, as if I am somehow cheating the system. Usually someone is hungry and craving a type of food, so they go and eat that food, and the majority of the time this is how it works for me too. But not with BBQ chips and Hot Tamales... Kind of weird, huh?

Something Else Entirely

I don't know if it's the writer in me or the love for a good story, but for some reason, movies really get to me...emotionally. A doleful movie will leave me sad the rest of the night. A joyful film might get me excited. Either way I cry. Every movie makes me think and question and analyze my own life.

Is it wrong to say that a particular movie actually depicts a relationship I am currently in? Or how I feel about my job? An event that happened to me yesterday? Or the way I feel right now? Would it be wrong to make a life-changing decision based on a quote that I heard on a movie? Is that mixing fantasy with reality? I mean, aren't movies just reality put on tape??... Aren't they?

I guess the difference lies in the fact that movies are restricted and refined. You can rewind a movie or pause a film. The main character already knows exactly what she is going to say even before her guy pops the question. The male protagonist already knows precisely how to react when his boss utters those dreaded words.

It's scripted. It's an act. It isn't real life. But then how come it feels so real inside, as if it somehow relates to me? Why is it that I leave the theatre unable to speak, with my mind traveling at raging speeds? Is it the writer in me? Or is it something else entirely?

My Name is _____, and I am a Shopaholic.

Hello. My name is ReALIty. And I am a Shopaholic.

They say the first step to overcoming your problems is recognition and admittance. So there it is. I admit it. I shop way too much!

The reason this comes up is because I have been trying to save some dollar bills for the next two trips I have planned. My family is going to Las Vegas for my younger sister's 21st birthday in February, and I would love to go on a Spring Break trip to Florida with my friends in March. But in order to do both of these things, I need to have some money in the bank.

For the last month, I've been telling myself to save. No more shopping. No more spending. No more coupons. No more malls. But it still seems like the shopping devil is staring her big, brown, well-tweezed, heavily mascara-ed eye at me!

SHOP! she screams, SHOP! SALES! she winks, SALES! CLEARANCE! COUPONS! BUY ONE GET ONE FREE!

She's hard to resist, and I find myself failing! For instance, today, I got an email from one of my favorite shopping spots...DSW! (For you men out there who are oblivious to the world of shopping, that is a mega shoe store.) The email shared a very very exciting deal with me: All clearance shoes were an EXTRA 50% OFF this week, PLUS FREE SHIPPING if you spend $35 or more! I mean what woman in her right mind (or slightly crazy one), could resist that! I mean I think you are crazy if you can!

So I shopped... and right now, I have two very cute and very much needed pairs of shoes just sitting in my online shopping bag, as I contemplate my decision. What to do? What to do? Should I buy? Should I save? I always say, "This will be the last thing I buy before I start saving." But we all know that doesn't work. That is one completey stereotypical girl thing that I admit I possess: I can't say no to shopping!

So then I reassure myself, "If I died tomorrow, I would be so glad the last thing I did was purchase these shoes." And then I feel a little bit better...

Hello. My Name is ReALIty. And I am a Shopaholic. So sue me... :)

Wear a smile...

Last night I was soooo not looking forward to today, because I had so many things to do and to get done, it was RIDICULOUS. My entire day was jammed pack full with commitments I really would have rather skipped out on. I had work and classes and my workout and practice and night class and homework. I pretty much wasn't going to be able to breathe until 9pm.

But while finishing up my last obligation of the night, somehow I was still smiling, and I wondered where the day that I completely dreaded had gone. I realized, it was over.... I had done it. I had lived it. And it really hadn't been all that bad. I smiled again.

It's amazing how easy things seem when you are wearing a smile. When you tackle each task with a positive attitude, they seem like a lot less work. Plus, you do a heck of a lot better job than you would have done sad or angry. And while I know this is all completely cliche and you have heard it a million times, it worked for me today. I survived without complaining or crying or dying.

So wear a smile... It works!

Would you rather...?

Question: Would you rather have a guy who worships you? Or a guy that you worship?

This seems like a pretty silly question at first. Of course you want the guy that worships you right? But why is it then that when I actually find a guy who worships me, a guy who actually treats me well, I always seem to find reasons that we aren't meant to be, a reason for us not to be together? It's like as soon as I find a guy who loves me, I dismiss him at the drop of a hat.

It's like when you are watching a romantic movie with your girl friends and express out loud, "Wow, this girl is nuts. If only I could find a guy who did that for me, I would totally marry him in a heartbeat." Sound familiar? Well I have said this, and then I do find that perfect guy who does something completely perfect for me, and instantly, somehow, that's no longer good enough, turns out it's not what I wanted, and now, after the fact, it completely baffles me why in the world I changed my mind. Why do I do that? Why do I let all those other little stupid mosquito bites of problems trump the really good aspects of my relationships? Sometimes it makes me feel so shallow... Because if the tables were turned, if I actually was the one who worshiped the guy, I would be really heartbroken and really quite angry if he did the same to me.

But back to the question. I do think there are girls out there who are with guys they absolutely adore but who are complete pigs, hence "guys you worship." And there are also girls out there who are with guys they aren't necessarily attracted to, but who worship the ground they walk on, hence "guys who worship you." Is it better that you are fully invested in a relationship and that you worship the guy you are with... or that they are fully-invested and worship you? Or is there a happy medium somewhere along the way? Or perhaps there are actually women out there who have both, a guy who worships them and a guy who they, in turn, worship?

Lucky girls.

Mad House Chaos

It's so weird that I can go from being on Christmas break and having no obligations, to college and classes and having meetings and homework and track practice and a work schedule, all within a twenty-four hour time frame. It quite honestly stresses me out! It's like calm, quiet serenity versus mad house chaos.

Now, I know that this happens to college students all over the country every year, not just to me now, but I feel like I become more overwhelmed than everyone else, because I force myself to be prepared and on-time and perfect every day of my life. I know that sounds completely fictitious and unrealistic, but that's exactly why it's so stressful. I understand that no one is prepared for everything, no one is on-time all the time, and no one is perfect. Trust me, I get it.

But... I'm constantly striving for it, because I am afraid of failure. I am afraid to disappoint... myself, my parents, my sisters, and my God. I hate being told it can't be done, or that I am unable or ill-equipped, because than I force myself to do it. I make myself able. I equip myself.

It's like a constant challenge I have with the world. Part of it is because I am a women, and we are constantly being undermined for our fraility and emotions, and part of it is just my bull-headed personality trying to be right all the time.

But sitting here, already stressed on the first day of classes, I can't help but envy the student who doesn't care, the student who is here for the party, the student who honestly thinks a C is good enough for him. (I use "him," because I have a certain student in mind.) Because life would be way less stressful, if I wasn't in constant fear of defeat.

And I guess the real question I have is: Does this make me stronger? Am I better off constantly striving for excellence? Is searching for perfection healthy? Will all this stress get me anywhere? But most importantly, will it get me to where I want to be? ...And is where I want to be good enough?

Sonnet 17

Since I felt like today was simply uneventful, I thought I'd share one of my favorite poems with you all, instead of enlightening you with my crazy ideas...

I do not love you as if you were the saltrose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straight forwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way than this

awhere I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

-Pablo Neruda

Lovely... but I really think that poem speaks for itself...

Last Time

Today, I moved into my sorority at college for the very last time, and for some reason, it really struck me. I am graduating. This is it. My time here is limited. The security that comes with college is almost over. I have to live on my own and get an apartment. I have to get a job and pay the bills. I have to take vacation days if I want to have a day off. I have to cook my own food. I have to go to bed at a decent time and get up early. I mean I have to be responsible for Pete's sake...

Man, this sucks.

A Promise in a Bow of Light

I got up this morning tired and wanting to stay in bed. I had to get up early, because I had a doctor's appointment, and then I had to work the rest of the day. Not my favorite things to do... I got into my truck a little worried about the icy roads, but just as I was pulling out of my driveway, I looked up into the bright blue sky only to spot a rainbow... and it made me smile.

Rainbows have always seemed a bit magical to me. All the colors, floating in the sky as if painted there by an exquisite artist... Then, I remembered that God first gave Noah a rainbow as a promise that he would never flood the Earth again. It symbolized hope. My smile widened. And for some reason, my day didn't seem so bad anymore.

I mean it was nothing compared to a world-wide flood...

Too Many Branches

Today, over a lunch of Chinese food and fortune cookies, my sister, my mom, and I discussed our family tree...which we decided has way, way too many branches!

My mother's father, or my maternal grandfather is the youngest of fourteen children. There is a span of fifty years between the oldest grandchild and the youngest, which makes things really really crazy. For instance, my grandfather was an uncle like twelve times before he was even born, so my mom's cousins are like my grandfather's age. Which is weird, because I will see my grandfather talking with a man who looks his age, but who is really his nephew. See how this can get confusing? (It's like the Fox family in You've Got Mail. You know, Tom Hanks' character, who is around thirty-five takes his brother and his aunt to the carnival and story hour, because both of them are under the age of twelve.)

And to continue the confusion: We see random people all the time, and my mom says, "Oh see that girl, she's your cousin." Having never seen that girl anytime ever before in my life, it's slightly strange. But it happens all the time! And that's just one-fourth of my family!

My father's mom, or my paternal grandmother, is the second oldest of six children. But what makes this family so crazy is that every one of my grandmother's siblings just happened to produce about six kids themselves, who also produced around six children... which makes for one very, very large family.

And all along, I thought I only wanted to have like two or three children! But then I think about these huge family get-togethers and how sad it would be for only two children to come and see me when I'm old and can't walk, when there is the possibility of six or seven kids and their families visiting... I mean, I just don't want to be responsible for the end of my family name! (Even though I am a female so I will most likely take my husband's name anyway... but you get what I'm saying, right?)

Pretty much the only downfall is that I won't be able to fly for like twelve years straight... or drink... or play sports... and I probably won't ever get my figure back...

Yikes! My maternal great-grandmother is my hero!

Another Iowa Storm

Yes, it's another Iowa storm... go figure. A one hour drive home, just took my family and I two and a half hours. I mean, gees...January has barely begun, and we have already had huge amounts of snow. This winter is beginning to feel like the winters I remember as a child. I remember ungodly amounts of snow, for what seemed liked months and months at a time, because for kids, everything is exaggerated.

But as a child, I hated the snow. The only reason I ever went out to play in it was because my sisters were all going out, and what's the fun in staying inside alone? But I just hated getting snow in around my neck and up the sleeves up my jacket. My fingers and little tiny toes were always completely frozen before my sisters decided they wanted to go in.

I remember one winter in particular, my Dad, my sister, and I headed for the neighbors with our truck. We got out of the vehicle by what looked like an old, abandoned car behind our neighbor's shed. My dad told us to be very quiet, because we were going to steal the car hood right off the car, and we didn't want to get caught. I remember looking at my sister confused and scared. We proceeded to take the car hood from the car and then creep away slowly from the house. My sister and I didn't really know why we needed a car hood, and we had no idea why my dad had just encouraged us to steal. We had no idea my dad had just been fooling with us.

Within an hour, my dad had that car hood flipped upside down and attached to the back of our four-wheeler like a sled. He must of hauled us around on that thing a dozen times. It was one of the best sleds ever. So fast!

And now this year, this winter, my dad "stole" us another car hood, and Christmas weekend, he hauled us around on the back. Even though we are a little heavier than we used to be, that thing still slides around on the snow brilliantly. This might sound slightly hickish to anyone not from the Midwest, but don't knock it until you try it!

So while I've never really loved the snow, I really don't think I could ever live anywhere else. I think somehow, I would miss the fluffy white stuff. I think somehow, I would miss the Iowa storms, because the weather anywhere else, just wouldn't compare.

A Tribute to My Best Friend

I have a best friend...and she's one of those people who I can talk to about anything, literally anything. Even when I haven't seen her for months at a time, we get together, and it's as if we were never apart. I've never had that with anyone but family. I guess that makes her family.

After yesterday's post, of course she was there for me....Thank God!

"What I think about your blog... I believe that you are using your talents everyday. Being kind, supportive, and being a "big sister," reaching out to the younger ladies in your sorority. I know you have impacted my life in a great deal and have inspired me, and you used your gift of friendship to do it. There are many things you can do to volunteer then maybe you would feel more needed in the world..? You rock as my best friend!! :).. and I love you. That's all."

See what I mean? The funny thing is, she and I were in the same class all through middle school and high school, but it wasn't until junior year of high school that we started really hanging out, thus beginning one of the best relationships of my life. And now we go to different colleges and have separate lives, but somehow we make it work. For some reason, God has reserved her as my best friend. Lucky me.

When we were in high school, the two of us decided that when we were older we would marry rich doctors and then kindly divorce them and take all their money, only to move in together, so our kids could be best friends... just like us. Of course we laughed as we said this, but now that I think about it, this might just be the perfect plan.

Another time, I told her that she would definitely be the maid of honor at my wedding. She replied, completely serious, "What is a maid of honor?" So Messy Jessie, since you didn't know that the maid of honor is the title given to the bride's chief attendant and closest friend, I will remind you:

You, my dear, are my closest friend. My sister by fate. You are irreplaceable and have an absolutely beautiful soul. It's no wonder that you are becoming a nurse, because you take every chance possible to help others out. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for helping me blossom and learn and be a better person. Thank you for choosing me to be in your life, because you have truly blessed mine. I love you.

Now let's find us a couple of doctors... :)

Half Way to Forty-Five

I know I have been writing a lot of inspirational blogs lately, trying to tell myself (and inspire you all) to get out there and change the world in the best way you know how. But as it turns out, I am a hypocrite. I feel like my own life is slipping away... and this realization hurts.

My sister and I just finished watching 17 Again. You know the movie with Zac Efron and Matthew Perry, in which Mike is given a second chance to go through his senior year of high school. While the movie was decent, it really got me thinking, and I made this comment to my sister.

"That makes me sad. I mean, I know I'm not forty-five or anything, but I'm half way there."

This was yet, another blow. Because my senior year of high school seems so far away. And while I'm right on track as far as my plan goes, what if I died tomorrow? I would have done nothing to make this world better. I would have done nothing spontaneous or worthwhile or book worthy. I would have helped no one and seen nothing.

I have spent the last twenty-two years telling myself that I am a Christian and an all around good person, but have I done anything to prove this? No. Have I shared the gifts that I think I possess with anyone? No. Have I wasted God's gifts? Is my life a waste of His beauty? I am constantly concerned about my plan, what I want to do with my life...but what about God's plan for me?

While I know this all sounds over the top, because I am only twenty-two, I could very well be saying these same exact things in another twenty-two years. And that scares me. So I hope that this time, I take it to heart. I hope this time, God works through me and shows me the way.

God, I am your servant...use me.

Leftovers

I just had myself an amazing piece of leftover all-meat pizza... which is actually really crazy, because I used to hate leftovers. I remember never ever eating leftovers. I didn't care what it was or who had made it, you couldn't make me eat any food not made with in the last hour. I used to believe that food was not meant to be reheated. It just wasn't natural.

But isn't it interesting how your tastes change? My parents always tell me how they could never get me to eat any type of meat as a child. Now, I don't know how vegetarians make it through the day! I never used to like any kind of oranges or mushrooms. Now, I consider them both delicacies. I find myself eating ketchup and pears and pigs in a blanket and broccoli and deviled eggs and now leftover pizza. All things I never enjoyed as a child.

And I guess I kind of wonder... do our tastes really change? Or do we just become more open to trying new things? Or maybe we become more tolerant of foods we don't really like? I don't know the true answer. But's it's interesting...just some food for thought...

I think I'll warm up another slice...

(Photo taken from Yahoo images)

Memories

Today my sisters and I sorted through a bunch of our old school papers, drawings, report cards, and class photos. It was really fun to see all the things we did when we were younger!

"Look how talented I was!" I yelled, as I showed my parents a picture of a fish I had drawn when I was in elementary school.

"The Most Valuable Freshman Tennis Player!" my sister announced, as she flashed us an award.

"Check out my house!" my other sister screamed, showing us a poster of a house she had created in high school Design class.

I always enjoy looking at old photos and souvenirs. They really help me to remember the good times, like family vacations, award ceremonies, high school proms, and sporting games. But no one usually has enough room in their house to keep all this stuff. So you have to be realistic, deciding what to keep and what to throw away. For instance, a twenty-page binder of your progress on the ABC's...trash! Your name constructed of noodles...keep! High school diploma... definitely keep! Old boyfriend photos... definitely trash!

I will admit, it was really hard throwing away things that documented my life or celebrated my accomplishments. It was like tossing out a part of me...

But now I have ten times more room for future documentation and future photos. It's a fair trade off I think.

Shopping for My Identity

Today I went shopping with my mom. You know to take back and exchange some Christmas items that either didn't fit, or we decided we didn't need. Overall, it was a successful day! But along the way I struggled a bit... with a lot deeper problem than should have to be pondered or decided in a mall or superstore.

While shopping, I had to decide my identity, who I wanted to be seen as. Because whether we want to accept it or not, our clothes help define us. They play a huge part in a first impression. They quite honestly help to determine whether or not someone approaches you or extends conversation. People notice your attire, way before you have a chance to speak.

And while shopping today...I struggled to decide what "me" I want the world to see. One part of me still wants to be young and hip. I want to wear racy tees and tight jeans and Converse sneakers and pleather jackets with fake fur. But another part of me wants to be taken seriously as a grown up. So then I feel like I should be out looking for blazers and suit jackets, buying lacy scarves and high heels and red lipstick. And yet a third part of me wants to be that athlete, all decked out in a sweatsuit with my Nike Shox and IPOD Nano armband, constantly timing my breathing and checking my pulse.

And ultimately, no matter what I decide, I never feel like it fits me or goes with my personality or matches who I want to be perceived as. Because while wearing the heels, I always feel like a child. And while in the Converse, I just happen to run into a top Executive. So I put on the heels, only to decide that I feel like a good game of volleyball. Nothing seems to fit the real me.

So...what to do? Should I buy nothing? Or buy it all? Should I mix and match? Or actually choose one? It's tough... which is probably why men don't shop. They can't handle the pressure.