Today.

Started Amos.
Worked on an e-mail.
Went to the CIU Fitness Center.
Talked to Teresa about babysitting again while I'm still here. I've got the time, right?
Watched a movie with Lexi and worked on a Christmas present.
Got a call from Bill (Teresa's husband) asking if I can babysit tomorrow.
Had dinner and watched a movie (I've been watching a lot of movies lately) with the Brookses and worked on the present some more.
Sang to myself in the car.
Checked the mail and got Ratatouille. And a paycheck. And my confirmation postcard from Locks of Love.


And my massage license.


It is a good day.

Friends don't let friends watch movies.

Well, okay, that's not true. August Rush, for example, was a musical and visual masterpiece and is going on my list of soundtracks I need to get.

On the other hand, though.

I saw Click the other night. I'm not a big fan of the Adam Sandler genre, generally, but this one wasn't too bad as far as that goes. I actually enjoyed it and thought had an interesting message... but one that hit badly during this season for me. A message that unfortunately went right along with some other things that I've been absorbing from various sources lately. That of the relentless marching of time. *cue ominous dun dun duuuun*

To put it simply, Click is a classic story (or at least, I've certainly heard it before, only then I think the guy was pulling on a piece of string...?) of how we might wish parts of our lives to be skipped or skipped ahead TO, but if we actually had that ability, we'd realize only in the end how much we missed out on. I also read the online daily articles from Psychology Today and most recently they've been talking about men and how, once past 35, they're increasingly responsible for mental defects in their children because the genetic code they pass on starts to "break down." And then there's the issue of The Farm, where I spent many long weekends growing up. It's not an incredibly exciting place, but it's kind of a big deal to me - I wanted to take my love there one day, y'know, at least once... but the family probably won't be holding on to it much longer. Etc. Etc.

I'm envious of the couples I hear about who got married when they were 17, 20, 22, 25.... But then I hear about the couples who didn't get married till they were 27, 30, 32... that disgruntles me too because I ache to think I'd have to be without *him* that much longer.

This not knowing gets in my bones and eats away at me. Part of me wishes I could push Fast Forward just for a peek to see where I end up... part of me wants *him* (or really, Him) to push his Fast Forward so we don't miss out on any more time we could spend together. This business of loving and being loved and figuring out how to live life with another person more intimately involved than ever before and finding out how it really is a delightful thing and learning how to navigate the non-delightful parts... I want to experience it for myself. It's going to be hard and I want to get started!

It's the same, sad old story as always. I thought I was doing better though; that's what bothers me the most. I don't know where this dissatisfaction is coming from, all of a sudden.

This has been "Heart to Heart" with Jessi. :-D

The heavens sing Your praises....

ironic yet tasty

The weather was beautiful on Thursday. Almost, I thought, TOO warm to be considered genuine camping weather, though it would certainly have sufficed. (It's gotta be nippy for it be genuine in my book.) When we left the house on Friday, however, we knew we were in trouble: 30/40 degree weather both nights as we attempted to sleep in a tent. Glad I brought a comforter along with my sleeping bag, lol! But no rain. Traditionally, when we go camping as a family, it's either too cold, rainy, or both.

Today brought the warmer weather and the rain and I now find myself dissatisfied with the new layout of my room as my green chair is most definitely too far away from the window to enjoy the beautiful gloominess outside.

In other news, I had the necessary forms notarized and checked and triple checked the list of things I needed... and mailed off the application form for my official massage license. (Apparently, the paper I earned after I took the exam wasn't the last step. Somewhere along the line, I didn't catch that part.) I also applied for my transcript to turn in to Greenville Tech when I go to talk to some folks and finalize my enrollment... either this week or next. Still waiting to hear back from the singles' pastor about rooming opportunities at SGC.

Thanksgiving Dinner: Part 2 was great. Four of the family members were able to make it back into town for the event along with a face new to me. We totaled thirteen sitting around the hosts' table and extended around a card table as well. Contributions to food and conversation were delicious all night long and I left full and happy. Interesting. With these folks, these dear friends, there is no concept of time, no feeling of, "You've been gone so long!" once they are again present. For all the "I miss you so bad!"s while they're away, upon their return, it's as if they'd never left. That fellowship was perhaps the sweetest course of all.

sometimes.

Sometimes there's an awful lot that I'm thinking or feeling... things that I may or may not want to talk about, but am unable to, regardless. Sometimes there are questions I dare not ask though I'm dying to have answered... sometimes I'd give anything to will words of mine unsaid.

Sometimes I'm a quiet kind of sad and lonely - not enough to mention... just enough to make me admit it to myself. Enough to make me withdrawn.

Sometimes... like tonight.

"She's gone."

"No! Don't you say that!"
"She's gone! ... She's gone."

[if you haven't seen the sequel to XMen and plan to, you may not want to read this post for the sake of spoilers]

I was talking with a friend recently about how absurd it is for a single girl to expect a knight in shining armor who will be everything she ever wanted and will love her always and forever happily ever after. It's a bunch of bs and I wish fairy tales didn't have that effect on us when we were little girls. Life is real, it's crappy, things don't turn out the way they should, people get angry.

But I watched X2 last night and it tugged at my heart strings in a way that most movies usually don't. There's something too real in Cyclops's reaction to losing Jean. It's not that they had a perfect relationship or that he was so proud that he didn't let it get to him visibly. Normally, he is a pretty stoic, solid character. But when it comes to his love, he runs after her. He pleads with her. He falls apart when she disappears.

I've noticed that when I hear bad news - that a loved one has died or other tragedy has occurred - it takes a good long while to sink in before the tears start. It's when you start facing memories of the person with whom you'll never make another memory that it really starts to hurt. But it wasn't that way for Scott - he's connected to her. They are one. She is such a part of his life that she is missed immediately when she's not there. That's not something you get from a superficial relationship, a fling, a one night stand.

It's too much to expect my man to be home at 5:30 every night, remember every detail and date, have straight white teeth and perfect hair, play an instrument, and hold a respectable business job for 40 years. The men we love and adore are not the Prince Charmings from Disney films. They're real and life happens. But this? Would I be a fool to dream of a man who can (usually) hold himself together under adversity that we face as one, but who will love me with such a passion that losing me would cause him to weep? Not just because I'm someone he'll miss making memories with, but because he'd do anything for me... and he can't save me from this?

weekend refreshment (pt. 2 - Tech)

The school was awesome. I walked in to what seemed to be an empty building. I'd been told that a packet would be waiting for me at the front desk; it was. I started toward the display in the front room when a security guard, Cat, asked if I needed help. Turns out she was waiting for me - one of the people I'd been in contact with had asked her to show me around. I told her I wanted to study art, so she took me upstairs and introduced me to Aaron - a tall, Amish-bearded fellow with very white teeth and a big smile. She said he'd be better equipped to give me the tour (even though he protested that he's never given one before, lol). He's... an artist. I forget that when we're in our element, we're very distinct individuals.

Guys, I can't explain it, but art does something to me. I stepped foot onto the art hall and spontaneously started jumping up and down. I was breathless and I couldn't stop smiling and giggling the whole time.

Afterwards, I went back downstairs to actually look at the display I'd seen earlier. They were award winning pieces, many of them. The Cat came back as I was finishing up and wanted to chat about what I was doing and what my plans were. She's been in the military and in and out of Tech for like 25 years now. She's very bitter in a strange, good humored sort of way. Bitter that she's just figuring out what she loves... and that she spent half of her life in Columbia. I still think it's a nice place to be, but I can't deny that if nothing else, Greenville's a lot prettier. After a good 20 minutes plus, she looked me in the eye and said, "You're just scared. Just make the move. You've already made the decision. Don't waste any more time."

I... well, I... hmm.

Crap.

weekend refreshment (pt. 1 - church)

Safe travels, there and back. Safe travels while there, too - it has long been my practice that when I wish to get acclimated with a new area, I get hopelessly turned around to the point that some might accuse me of being lost. ;-)

It was good to be at a SGM church again. But more than that... much more - the fellowship was so good. Interesting, since I'd only ever met one of the singles before (Jon Payne's cousin, LOL) and yet I was already family.

It was exhausting. The interaction and the thinking, both. I mean, I'm an introvert, right? It's not natural for me to fall immediately into conversation of any substance with a stranger. The way that is most natural to me... or let me call it my life-long habit... is to go early to the meeting, be cordial, and leave when it's over. This is true of the classroom, church, small groups, parties, you name it. For whatever reason, I can't stand lingering afterwards. Is that because I'm afraid of being known? Is it really just that large crowds overwhelm me? I mean, I'm always happy in retrospect that I was able to have a good conversation with Sue or Bob or whoever, but in the midst, I'm itching to run away.

We as Christians need accountability. We need people who know us intimately and who will ask us the questions we don't want to answer. I know this; you probably do too. But as soon as I fall into, "It's against my nature to be around a big group of people this long" I lose out on the quality, Godly fellowship.

So is it just that I was a novelty? That I announced my coming so I was duly welcomed? Anyone can put on a good act for one weekend, including me. Not that I think I was un-genuine, but I pushed myself to be out there and meet people in a way that I'm not at all certain I'd be able to maintain. Will I be the problem wherever I go because the mere idea of pursing relationships and accountability that seriously makes me want to crawl in bed and sleep for a week?

Interesting. I'm doing it again. God pounded me a number of times in this one weekend that I look too quickly for affirmation, confirmation, guidance, wisdom from other people. Some people don't do that at all, and that's not wise either, but my habit cripples me, too. This is one thing I can't get final answers on, though. Not outside of Him.

Why I love Riverwalk...

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long as I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth, Then took the other as just as fair And having perhaps the better claim; Because it was grassy and wanted wear, Though as for that, the passing there Had worn them really about the same. And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet, knowing how way leads onto way I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh, Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. - Robert Frost "The Road Not Taken".		[To view a bit larger, click on the pics]

My neighborhood's not too bad, either. ;-)

Wanderlust

Do you ever get it? The itch to leave? Just up and move somewhere new, no matter how irrational? Frankly, I think it's a big factor into why I love parks and road trips so much - it's a quick escape from the normal without having to fill out change of address forms.

But the thing is, I'm TOO rational. Wait, well... when it comes to this, anyway. ;-)

"I love this man/friend/neighborhood/geographical feature so much. I'm grown. Why don't I just go?" I'm sure it happens. But when the wanderbug bites me, my first thought is, So you move. Then what? You might fall out of your love's good graces. Suddenly you're ten minutes away from your friend and you're spending even less time together because there's no urgency to "treasure what time we have!" You get tired of the scenery, no matter how great it seemed before.

On the other hand, I think there are times when God puts an itch in us to do "x" and it's too easy for someone like me to write it off as being bored or trying to escape something... or trying to run TO something. How many opportunities have I lost because I thought their pursuit would indicate hateful discontent with a perfectly fine set up? Because I was afraid that chasing a dream was idolatrous?

I've been bitten. Hard. I tried to think, "Well, this is the longest I've lived in one place since before college; am I bored?" "Am I just irritated?" "I don't know many people there, but if even they left, would I be okay?" "I've always liked Columbia. Why should I want out now?" But none of these questions have answers that are holding me back.

Pamela advised that I was right in thinking that with a change this big (the school, massage, etc.) my feelings are legitimate - that I need a fresh start in a new place where I won't feel tied to the stuck-in-a-rut old ways of living. Of course, this is the same woman who thinks manipulation is perfectly acceptable and even necessary in your dearest relationships... so I'm not sure how much I trust her judgment. ;-)

So I'll be in Greenville this weekend staying with some ladies from Sovereign Grace Church, where I'll be attending if I move. I'm going to sit in on the singles' care group Friday night and attend the weekly service on Sunday... and on Saturday, I'm going to check out Greenville Tech's Art program.

Pray for me. I'm scared out of my mind.

It's a beautiful day. See?

Good Will Hunting (part 2)

Am I the person I am or the person I could be? If I'm trying to be true to myself and not be someone I'm not... where does "bettering myself" come in?

"No, I don't fold my laundry or wash my dishes. I'm a lazy, messy person. It's just who I am."

"No, I won't go back to school or try a new field of work. Shoot, I won't even relocate for a fresh start. I'm afraid of change and rejection - I'm an insecure person. It's just who I am."

I spent Monday in Charleston. I love going to Charleston. Somehow it helps me think... plus it's friggin' awesome and also beautiful. I took my big Mead, 5-subject spiral notebook and a fat ink pen out to the pier, lay down on one of the square benches at the edge, and began to write. I was there for hours.

See, I loved my job at the church. It was something I felt like I could do. Not in the sense of capability, but by default, in the sense of "you can't hardly screw this one up, right?" Obviously, one can. But it felt comfortable and safe. And yes, I believe I truly did love what I did. But they said I wasn't perfectionistic enough to hold it. They said they wanted to "release" me to find something I really loved.

Before I went to the pier, I went in the Waterfront Gallery on East Bay Street. I looked around slowly, soaking everything in. As I passed by the front desk, they asked (and I'd heard them whispering before) if I was an art major. The question flattered and crushed me. Flattered because I must have looked like I knew what I was looking at... crushed with a wave of, "I should have been." Back in a corner, taking in every inch of the pieces, I spontaneously started to cry. At the beauty of the works, yes, but mostly with an overwhelming realization that I could be doing that. I should be. I NEED to be.

Looking out alternately between the desperate cries of prayers on my paper and the glistening water before me, I forced myself to talk (write) through everything. How I felt, what was valid, what was true. After a while I was in tears. I was angry that I felt so pressured to find something great, my perfect fit, when I didn't even know what it was. That they were telling me I didn't love what I did. That I was hearing that I'd failed. That if this wasn't for me and I couldn't even handle something this simple, what could I ever be good for in the working world other than perhaps scooping ice cream?

"I want to love. I want to live. I want to love life. ... Is there a fire in me? Can I ever set it loose on the world? Will it only destroy me in the end? I don't want to settle for contentment due to fear, but I don't know what to do next."

A man, a stranger walked by and I was struck by the fact that it's not that I don't like people... just large groups of them that are talking at me and irritable because they've let their pride get to them. But REAL people - hurting people, happy people, people who need a hug... I like them. I want to love them.

And then I knew. It scared the spit out of me, but I knew as clear as I knew I was sitting there with tears leaking down my face. I need to go back to school. I need to study art. And I need to get a job in the meantime as a massage therapist.

Just like that.

I stood up and walked to the far right end of the pier where I could just let it out without lots of people walking by and stared at the reflection of the setting sun dancing on the waves. And then something else hit me like a ton of bricks - I could brush this all off, say it was something I ate, go home and look for something safer... but I'd be disobeying God.


So what does that have to do with a movie that has way too many swear words in it? Will had a gift and he wasn't doing anything with it. He was happy and satisfied with the easy, the simple, the safe. I'm an artist, or so I claim... but isn't an artist someone who is not just capable of making art but someone who actually DOES it occasionally?

Maybe one day - should be some day soon - you'll come knock on my door and I'll be gone.

Good Will Hunting (part 1)

               CHUCKIE
 Are they hookin' you up with a job?

              WILL
 Yeah, sit in a room and do long division for the next fifty years.

              CHUCKIE
 Yah, but it's better than this s-. At least you'd make some nice bank.

              WILL
 Yeah, be a f-in' lab rat.

              CHUCKIE
 It's a way outta here.

              WILL
 What do I want a way outta here for? I want to live here the rest of my
 life. I want to be your next door neighbor. I want to take our kids to
 little league together up Foley Field.

              CHUCKIE
 Look, you're my best friend, so don't take this the wrong way, but in 20
 years, if you're livin' next door to me, comin' over watchin' the f-in'
 Patriots' games and still workin' construction, I'll f-in' kill you.
 And that's not a threat, that's a fact. I'll f-in' kill you.

              WILL
 Chuckie, what are you talkin'...

              CHUCKIE
 Listen, you got somethin' that none of us have.

              WILL
 Why is it always this? I owe it to myself? What if I don't want to?

              CHUCKIE
 F- you. You owe it to me. Tomorrow I'm gonna wake up and I'll be fifty
 and I'll still be doin' this. And that's all right 'cause I'm gonna make
 a run at it.
 But you, you're sittin' on a winning lottery ticket and you're too much of
 a p- to cash it in. And that's bulls- 'cause I'd do anything to
 have what you got! And so would any of these guys. It'd be a f-in' insult
 to us if you're still here in twenty years.

              WILL
 You don't know that.

              CHUCKIE
 Let me tell you what I do know. Every day I come by to pick you up, and we
 go out drinkin' or whatever and we have a few laughs. But you know what
 the best part of my day is? The ten seconds before I knock on the door
 'cause I let myself think I might get there, and you'd be gone. I'd knock
 on the door and you wouldn't be there. You just left.

A beat.

              CHUCKIE (cont'd)
 Now, I don't know much. But I know that.

My face is weird.

No, really. I mean it.

You remember those fancy schmancy Seacret and Etre products I was using a few months back that totally made me break out all over my face when they were supposed to be the most natural, healthy thing for your skin? And I did take them back and after much poking and prodding did get a refund. *phew* "I've never heard of that happening before. Are you sure you were using it consistently? It's completely natural; you shouldn't be breaking out." My skin started getting better, but wasn't back to normal - the blemishes that I had earned simply weren't healing - and I was starting to wonder if maybe it wasn't Seacret's fault after all. Then I remembered something.

My dear beloved friend Liz used (maybe she still does) Clearasil Ultra for washing her face when we were in college together and she swore by it. Again, I have generally very clear skin and I don't know why I wasn't satisfied with that, but I gave it a shot several years ago. It didn't work very well (I started breaking out - not a whole lot, but more than normal) so I went back to the original. Well, when I was coming off of the Seacret products, I was using Ultra again... I think I thought it would make it heal faster or something because it's supposed to give you "guaranteed clear skin in three days" and it's twice as expensive etc. etc.

A couple of days after I fully realized my repeat mistake and started using regular, cheapest-on-the-shelf, same-thing-I've-used-since-I-was-12 Clearasil, my face started to clear up. Guys, this is the first time I've been zit free in many months.

I mean, okay. I've been blessed with skin that isn't terribly prone to irritation. But I don't understand why "pampering" it would make it break out. You'd think it would at least show no signs of change, right?

My face is weird. But at least it's clean! :-D

"Hey, you runnin' again?"

Yes. Yes I am. From one screen to another. From one spot to a different one. From central state to coastal. Who knows what's next.

What are you running from?

...

That's what I'm fixin' to find out. Wish me luck!

~ a wandering artist

harder than I expected

I planned to take this week off. You know, *enjoy* the "being single" aspect of unemployment. But road trips on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, a lunch meeting and massive cleaning on Wednesday, an emergency trip to Doctors Care (Andrea had an accident :-() and multitudinous errands on Thursday, then more cleaning and prepping for and going to an interview today, followed by several hours of online job hunting and dinner out with the Brookses... I can't say as I've been able to relax like I thought I would.

My sleep has been better, at least. Apparently, I had too many toxins in my system.

But now I'm a basket case. I've been crying all week over little things. And big things too, I guess... but not anything terribly new that needs crying over, y'know? Everything feels a shambles in my life - my room and my car and my relationships and whatthecrapamIsupposedtobedoingwithmylifenow and self worth and loving and healing and encouraging and asking forgiveness....

I'm tired of being strong. I know it's not really right but it's kinda where I hang out... the fact that it's exhausting me though means something else is up. I need to troubleshoot my soul....

(Yes, of course I'm also dealing with being completely hormonal. So don't cross me! Raaar!! ;-))

Hoping to post some pictures soon. :-)

Number Three

7723 Shav: emptiness, vanity: deceit(ful), deception, empty(iness), false (visions, hood), lies, vain, vanity, worthless

"Do not take the Lord's name in vain." Holman's CSB (what I read) reads "Do not misuse the name of the Lord your God."

But what does that mean? What was He getting at?

You could perhaps try to argue that it's antiquated. That people in that time would swear in the name of the Lord that they would do "x" and then not do it; that they made His name worthless by not following through on the promise they swore by His name. Does that have any bearing on today? Maybe notsomuch.

Growing up in a Christian home going to Christian school attending a good Christian Sunday school and church every Sunday, you get the impression that it means you better not say, "Oh my G.." or "Good L..." or especially "G..d..." (because that's two bad ones at once!) and that that's what it means. Not taking the Lord's name in vain is making sure combinations of letters and words don't come out of your mouth.

More recently, I've heard that it's "grown up" into meaning that we're responsible for carrying the name of our Lord as Christians and that whenever we sin, fail, let His cause down in public, that that is making His name to be worthless.

I might like to play the innocent one, but I'm not really offended by much... at least not any more. I'm not proud of that, but it makes interaction in most circles a lot easier when you're not running around with your hands on your ears every time somebody says a four letter word. This Number Three though... it's been nagging at me for a few months now.

Some very dear friends of mine use the name "God" in this way. As an expression of surprise, frustration, anger, even mild amusement. Is He okay with that? Is that a direct violation of His law or isn't it? I mean, I can't imagine that people who use His name as an expletive are thinking of Him when they say His name, right? So they're using the name without attaching any value to it, making it worthless.

I dunno. It just seems black and white to me. Gluttony... well, you have to eat right? Who's to say where the line is? Lying... well, there are times when you can stretch the truth for the greater good. But Don't take the Lord's name in vain? You have to make a conscious decision whether to use the Name or not. Granted, it will become habit after a while and you WON'T think about it any more, but it started somewhere.

I'm really curious about this one. I want to hear your thinking - if you're one of these folks, how you've justified it for yourself so you can use it... or what you think this commandment means instead of the "traditional" translations that makes it acceptable.

good ones :-D

She only wanted him for his giant robot.

You sound more mystical than Plontinus!

Don't take me so figuratively.

I think our baby just crawled away.

"What's up?" "Nothing." "Nothing?" "Nothing. ... Wait, what do you mean by 'nothing'?"

It was a poor decision to be sick.



Can you come in on Friday at 3:00 for an interview?

Nature lights my spark.

I like ladders.

It really is an oddity, I guess. Maybe it's the story they have to tell.

See, ladders don't come out by themselves and they don't come out for no reason. Something was broken or needed breaking into... a cat needed rescuing or a branch needed cutting... even ladders permanently secured (like on the roof outside by old bedroom window) offer the promise of adventure. "Because of me, you can go places you otherwise couldn't, do things you weren't otherwise able. Many people are afraid of me. Will you trust me? See where I'll take you?"

Maybe it's just the feisty little girl in me that was told ladders are for big people jobs... told by "big people" who didn't know just how daring this little girl could be.

I like bridges, too. And paths that wind into the woods. Stairs formed by stones or roots. Boulders that let you sit in the middle of a river without getting the least bit wet. The sound of moving water and the wind in the trees. I like that feeling you get when you discover something that you know not many people will ever see.