How was my day?

I'm so glad you asked. It was neither bad nor good. The day was a combination of incidents that have left me feeling displeased, distracted and in an awful mood! I'm not angry, just glum, like the weather. I am sad after discussing Grad School with one of the professors on campus. Instead of being uplifting, he gave me all of the reasons why graduate school is not a guarantee of a potential career and pointed out areas of study that I didn't have answers for. I felt like he was deflating rather than encouraging and that honestly sucks because if doubt is a thing, it is a thing I don't need anymore of. The worst part is that I can't stop playing the conversation over and over when all I want to do is turn my negative emotions into a positive outlet. Now, I'm watching Payback, a movie in Arabic that I can understand nothing more of than body language. There is a lot of tension going on, that much I can tell, but the director is a female who was imprisoned for her radical ideas, so I support that.
This is where I am now: I desperately want to have a goal. A mission to fulfill that can't be deterred. Maybe I should wait another year before I apply for grad school. Apparently one month before application deadlines is cutting it exceptionally close, but I don't like the alternative, of going home and waiting for a year. Then again, I could go abroad and teach English like I had planned just a few months ago.
In the midst of these thoughts I remember that I must finish this semester first. No big deal, just a couple of papers to write and finals to take. I know I can manage, I just wish I didn't let myself feel overwhelmed. Perspective helps a lot. To change mine, I need only realize that after all this time I have been trained to read and write in a way that would not only prepare me for life after college, whatever it is I will choose, b ut also well-enough for the next couple of weeks, come what may. That helps. So, what to do next? Read a book this weekend, write a paper by Saturday, finish another by Sunday. I've finished The Hobbit! It feels like cheating that I "had" to read that book for a class.
Well, it seems like my movie is getting to the good part... I think a man has picked up a prostitute as part of a plan because she has now pulled a gun! Good grief, I better start watching!

Oh, quick side-note. Last night I finished Karen Armstrong's, Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life. The book was miraculous and life-altering. The ending was the antithesis to my conversation with my professor ;) I should probably purchase the book though (library rental-not stolen) because it is a reference I could use for the rest of my life. I've already found myself slipping on the first steps of meditation, not that I have forgotten the beneficial effect of them on my life, but selfishness is addictive and I've found myself devoting time to not such glamorous alternatives.

I also watched "Religious" again last night. It made me want to write Bill _____ a letter, but I'm sure he gets enough of those.

Good night!! <3

Feigning it.

You know which word could go extinct? Probably many, but the one bothering me recently is clutch. Clutch as a noun, the purse. The imagery drawn up, due in part to the verb, is contradictory to the object. What is intended to describe an elegant evening, compact purse instead provokes an image of a clawed hand demonically grasping an item, never to be relinquished. Ugh, I shudder to think this is what I look like whenever before I have been the unfortunate bearer of "the clutch."

Another recent idea, and by this I mean not necessarily current but an idea now coming to growth in my mind after being planted some time ago as a baby inkling, a seed, is sustainability. An interesting idea due to its binariness. In a recent documentary, "Dirt" the cinematography explores many supporters of sustainable farmer and its benefits, especially in opposition to the drawbacks of globalization and capitalism. The drawback of the film was that it referred all of us "little people" as hummingbirds placing one drop of water at a time onto a massive forest fire. That is the effort we can make, in this way we would be doing out part. It was meant as an encouraging statement. I wonder though at what point is this not true, wouldn't it have been better to show which areas can be improved in ever individual's life, so that at least we know our efforts are not in vain? The book I'm reading, Sustainability Radical Solutions Inspiring Hope, does indeed inspire hope. One man built an entire jungle on an L.A. high school's property to encourage the community and to teach the students. I love that. It gets me thinking, if he can do that, what else is there to do? The hardest part of this thought process for me is buying into the idea that processed food really is "bad." To be honest, I love doughnuts, not the crap you can buy at the grocery store, but the ones from a Mom and Pop bakery, fresh and made with love (they are- I can taste it). So, while I support "enlightening" others about the ground breaking information of eating fresh and locally, I have to get over a twinge of guilt I feel at not tyrannically supporting my own rules. Locally, I can fully support that. I like the idea of buying what those around me have struggled for. Yet, would other countries really be okay if the American government stopped importing their crops? It seems a little cruel to quickly pull away support in favor of the souls closest to you. I know that isn't the idea, I know that ideally the far away countries would become self-sustainable and then reach out as locally as they were able. It would be an adjustment and one that the detriment of our economies is probably making worth the change. So, perhaps this will be one more hummingbird effort I can make, more conscientiously buy local. Buy American made products and keep hoping that this country will come back together before it is too late.
The important thing to remember here is that it isn't a move of elitism. It isn't that I find American culture superior to any other, but if I don't work for improvement here, who will? Worse yet, if I don't work for change here, where else does that put me and what ideals will I ever be able to fully embrace?
Sometimes I think for this time in my life that these thoughts are too heavy, too much for someone of my age. Then I remind myself that I'm old enough for everything else, thinking should definitely be on that list and it isn't as if I am alone in these thoughts, hence the books and documentaries. In fact, given those materials and the countless people who are able to intelligently discuss such topics, I'd say I might be a little behind.

The weekend is over. Danielle is on her way back to Santa Barbara and I am back to considering what it is I am suppose to be doing. Work, school work, cleaning, life planning. All of the things I'm not great at, but want to get better at doing. Necessary and beneficial, so why not? It's overwhelming though, you know? Trying to decide what should come first. Danielle's really great at it, she's inspirational actually and her visit couldn't have been timed any more perfectly. It has made me do some reflecting on where I'm headed for this next year, where do I want to be this time next November, that sort of thing.
I want to be in my career at that point. And not just want to, I will be. I'm done floundering around. That means more school. That much I have arrived at. Now, like a domino effect, that also means funding for school. That means the search for scholarships and filling out of applications needs to begin. That means aggressively pursuing. That also means maybe one or two more years of not quite being where I want to be, but getting there. Part-time job, possibly. Living at home for a year to save money, maybe. Car, necessary. Here we go!!! Thank God for these changes and for the strength to go through with them.

Well, it is the day before my birthday and it has got me feeling all excited. The beautiful Fall weather and the approaching two holidays, Thanksgiving and Christmas, are undoubtedly fueling my euphoria. I'm diving right in and playing along. I've never felt happier and I can't even begin to number the reasons I should be so thankful. The people in my life are amazing and their strengths are strengthening me. I know I have seen too many fantasy films when the image I use to describe the transaction is a dying woman who extracts the youth from all the beautiful people she encounters, thereby regaining her own strength. That's okay though, the part I need to remind myself of is that it doesn't endanger the victims, in fact, in my story it is more than a benevolent relationship, it is dually beneficial. In my mind, those I encounter will be nourished by whatever shine I can impart on them. I trust in God that what they see will be what they need to encourage them and the process will be cyclical. That way the light is moving around the world to the reaches that I can only hope to see. Maybe someday. For now, I'm perfectly content to dream about it and to love the view I have.

My mind is racing, probably thanks to the large cup of coffee I just drank. Mixed in with anxiety about what it is I should be doing, what I need to accomplish verses what it is that I want to do. That's the think though, I'm not even sure what it is that I would be doing if I could do anything in the world. I guess I'd pick to be here. In a warm coffee shop with Adele on, I even scored the plush chair. Can't really beat that. So, my thoughts of what to do next are what are keeping me back, in a sense. I know that I need to do homework, there is infinitely a paper to write, a book to read, a project to prepare for. There is a future to plan for, programs to apply to and then there are the intricacies of daily life, a flight I need to cancel, a room that needs to be cleaned, groceries that should probably be purchased. Why is it that I don't want to do anything besides sit here? Sit here and type every thought that comes to mind? Probably the caffeine that has an ADD effect on my thoughts. Maybe its emotional though. There is something about this crowded place that reminds me of home. The people all around in the midst of their days, none bothered by my existence, neither readily seeking out my opinion. All of us content to be in our own worlds, yet creating a universe in which we are all coexisting. I like that. I like the feeling of unity and of knowing everyone takes moments, as I am, to just make time stand still, to make it hover like a cloudy atmosphere. Thats what we're doing in a sense, it doesn't matter what the clock is doing because no one is looking. I love that.
There's a confession I  need to get off of my chest and since I'm not in therapy and probably won't be, I'll lay it out here. I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid of striving for something that might not work out. I'm not going to be though. I'm striving towards overcoming that. Biblically, I know I was not made to be a vessel of fear. Historically, I know they say the only way to success is to try, try, and try again. Logically, what is the worst that can happen?
So, what is it I want to do? I want to write a ten page paper for class and I decided to do a fictional piece about a girl who is using logic to convince her audience that English is a necessary area of study... I wrote the introduction already, but I am struggling in making it take off. Who should her audience be? Plus, my professor wants me to make it a genre fiction, leaning towards detective of sci-fy. Um. Okay. She is a girl with magical capabilities. She is actually living in a dream world. Or should small(ish) aspects be that fantastic? Should the characters in the story be reincarnated, yet this does not affect the seriousness of her proposal? So, she is writing to a world about the importance of language and literature because she recognizes that the world is becoming a place where virtues are silenced and the feeling of being lost is amplifying, but the background piece is that she is on a journey of self-discovery. She has her own personal life that is going up in smoke, so she burrows further into the world of literature. She becomes a piece of literature? No. She begins reading so much that she discovers that history in fact does repeat itself, but then what?
How about, the world is a little different in that once every one has a mission and once your mission is complete, you can leave, move on, maybe to come back and do another? The kicker is that you fall so in love with your mission, you can't help but complete it. This happens to the main character, her life goes on and she feels compelled to help people embrace literature. She knows that once her study is complete she'll die and move on, but she is okay with that and tries to dedicate her whole life to the study. Of course, along the way she falls in love with a man who has yet to discover his life mission, they vary so much, and she tries to stay as unattached as possible to save him from the hurt. In the end, either she can die or she doesn't die because what she thought was her life mission really wasn't. It was a distraction from fully loving another, an unselfish love that she finally demonstrates when she admits it all to the guy upon which she dies in a moment when her soul reaches complete ecstasy. It's okay though because he will recover.
Now, to put that into a story? Good luck!

Fall into something

Something changed the other day. I was thinking about my life and trying to map out the last couple of years. The problem, because there was a problem, was that I always started at the most recent moment and tried to go backwards. Remember the problem? Well, I always got stuck. I got stuck on the last mean thing I said or the fact that I checked my bank account. There was always a roadblock and instead of moving towards a better answer, I shut down, I felt defeated. So, I finally asked myself, "When did I stop thinking I could move forward?" I wanted to pinpoint the moment in my life when it all got so confusing. That brought up some pretty depressing truths and I don't know if I am more disturbed by the fact that all of those events have been silently experienced or that they have, in turn, silenced me. So, how do I correct that situation. I get it out there in the open. I write about it because that's what I do. When I had a problem with my mom when I was still in elementary school, I would write her a note and leave it on her pillow. We never talked about them, but I knew she got them. When I wanted to tell a boy I liked him, I wrote a letter. When I needed a friend, I got a diary.. you get the idea. And now, in the world of blogging and media, I'm turning to electronics and praying that those wrongs can be corrected, for now, at least.

I never came up with a moment. I remember high-school, never doubting a moment. I had my friends, my boyfriend, cheerleading, school and grades high enough for college. I had energy to get me through days on end and the stamina to go with it. That led me on to college. I can remember loving my first couple of months. I still had my friends and I fell into the groove naturally. Nothing amiss there. But then, where's the sophomore year? I had started smoking weed by then and my family was obviously not a part of that and we obviously didn't talk about any of that. See the problem is that I know my problems are small scale and I wasn't brought up to complain. You make the most of what you've got and thats the only way to live. But, I couldn't I couldn't be happy because something in me was wrong. I wanted more from my relationship with my boyfriend at the time. I wanted change so badly. That's the only reason I can think of for applying to study abroad. But, I went. Even then, eating disorder and all, I was happy. The newness of the place and the absolute happiness of the people I was living with. Those might have been the best four months of my life. Then again, I cried over my ex on the computer almost every morning. How can those two feelings exist simultaneously. To feel great lows in order to feel great heights. Something like that anyways. And then I went through a depression when I got back. That was awful. I came home to nothing, essentially. My family was there, which kept me alive, to put it boldly. Then I met someone. Not sure why I did that. I guess I never felt my relationship was satisfying, so off I went, looking for love, looking for passion and I found it. I found it in a guy who wound up in prison. Really. I couldn't make this shit up. Well, dream crashing as all of that was, I linked myself up with a former roommate and thought I'd head back to college, pursue the degree in the only way I had ever known how to. I left. Is leaving something I do because I'm reenacting an event I had seen happen as a kid and now I'm trying to replace that hurt or because that's what we all do, for the freedom of it all?
Needless to say that last year didn't get any better. In fact, it got much worse. Better in the sense that one disorder took a backseat to another less physically damaging. Well, shit I don't know why I'm sugarcoating. I finally stopped the bulimia and replaced it with terrible, dangerous sexual encounters and lots of drug using. One drug, two if you count alcohol, but large quantities. Like I mentioned earlier, maybe these issues are small to some people, but I can't help feeling like I want them off my chest.
Clearly these life choices led me into a relationship I could have done without. It never made me want to be anything more than I was, which might sound charming, except I find it disgusting and minimizing. Nothing in that relationship was about me. Which I thought was the right thing, what did I do to deserve a relationship that made me actually happy or even followed along with the principles I had and the expectations I had all of my life? I was wrong, obviously.

I can't tell you what changed. I can't tell myself that I'm any better now than I was then. All I know is that when I pray for something, change happens. Seriously. Before my first overnight camp, I prayed to have the strength to stop wetting the bed, because I did, and then I did. When I prayed to somehow overcome bulimia, it went away. I don't even think I could make myself throw up at this point which is a miracle. The answers to my prayers don't hit me in the face, but I can feel them and I'm thankful.
I know this is personal and it probably has no place in the viral world. I know I don't have any answers, but I have a story and I'm learning how to cope with it.

The next step is falling into love again, with myself, with the person I used to know who followed her heart even when it led her down the different path. Maybe thats the point, I had to go down all of these roads to finally find the right path. The funny thing is, I always knew that it took me longer than most people to do the same activity. I just have my way of doing it, my own slow, thorough way of completing tasks and I can't let all the obstacles keep me back or hold me down. That's why I'm writing. I'm writing to fall in love again with being in love and following my instinct and because I can and because I'm thankful for being able to do what I love, what ever that might be next.