I'll be waiting

Well, I'm off to Kansas City for New Years! Actually, we're leaving in about ten hours, but in all actuality we'll be on our way by the time any of you read this. We're spending a few days with my mom's side of the family, and I'm super excited. I get to see Meghan and Caitlin, my 14-year-old cousins from Baltimore, and Bubba (also known as Cale) and Coralee, my cousin Ann's babies. It'll be my first time meeting Cora, and I can't wait! Ahhh so excited. Baby!

In case you were wondering, I had a very nice Christmas. We had Christmas Eve with my dad's family like always, this time in Blair at the Cargill headquarters (where my uncle Tom works). It was a really great space, the perfect size for us. And even though not everyone could come, there was enough room for everyone in our family - all 44 of the G family members! Good God, there are tons of us. We're taking over!

My cousin Rachel had her second baby boy just before Christmas, and my cousin Kristen is due at the beginning of January with a boy as well - carrying on the G family tradition! In case you didn't know, my dad's the oldest of 8, all boys. And then my generation is mostly boys as well, and now of course the first 3 great-grandkids are boys. Crazy crazy. But anyway, please keep my new baby cousins and their moms in your prayers! As far as I know, everyone's healthy right now, so that's awesome.

So like I said, I'll be gone for the next few days. I hope that each one of you have had a wonderful holiday (whatever it is that you celebrate) full of love and laughter, and I also hope that your new year is full of the same! Please stay safe, be smart, and have fun on New Years Eve. You're all in my thoughts!

I'll be home for Christmas

Home once again.

For once, I'm actually glad to be here. I know, odd coming from me, right? But it's not like the last few times I've come home. I'm excited to be on winter break, lying in my old bed that's going to make my back ache in the morning. I can't wait for Christmas with family, and I can't help but smile and sing along to the radio. I haven't felt excitement (or hope, for that matter) in a while, but I do now. I guess what's changed this time is me - I feel more like myself than I have in a long time, maybe the whole semester.

I don't know how to explain it, really. The whole semester went so quickly; the beginning flew by and I never was able to catch up, and suddenly it was finals week. Maybe it had to do with the depression I've been in all semester. Actually, that was probably it. For so long I just didn't care about things and didn't want to be around people, and it felt so strange and so horrendous and so fascinating all at the same time. I've never had a depressive episode last so long and be so steady before.

Last weekend, though, right before finals...I've been describing it as "waking up." Suddenly I was more aware of the people around me - I was realizing that I'm not the only person in the world who needs attention, I'm not the only person with problems, I'm not the only one who has things to figure out. I have friends, wonderful friends who deserve my attention and love, and I haven't been treating them like that.

(this is going to get a little heavy, just so you know)

So this is to apologize. Chances are that if you're reading this, you're a friend of mine. So to my dear friends, you are the best. I would go crazy without you, and I've told you before that you keep me alive every day. I need you to tell me to keep fighting, because otherwise I'd forget that a fight's even happening. (I keep picturing it like a war scene from a movie, like LOTR or something equally as awesome. Is that weird? Hmm don't care.) I am battling depression, and when I forget it, that's when I start losing. I am fighting to live, fighting the thoughts that say I'm not worth it, fighting the ideas that death would be so much easier, fighting the urge to just give up. I am fighting this, and the thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that you're at my sides fighting just as hard as I am, if not harder. You're the ones who keep me protected from the monsters trying to tear me down. You're what comes to mind when I think about the worst things, and I realize that I could never hurt you like that. I've known that hurt, and I can't let you feel that way. So I keep fighting. I keep fighting for you, and then I start fighting for me too. I will overpower this. It will be better someday. Hell, it's already thousands of times better, and it'll keep getting better. I'll have setbacks, I know. But somehow, I'll get through them with you there to hold me up. You are the most wonderful people, and I am so lucky to have you in my life. Thank you, and I'm sorry for not fully being me this semester. You deserve the best, and that's what I'll be giving you from now on.

You know, when people asked what changed in the last week, I kept saying that I didn't know. But Rachel helped me to realize it. It was all of you. It was you fighting for me, praying for me, supporting me. It wasn't that you just started, but that I finally figured it out. I can finally see it.

I love you all so very much. Thank you for being so spectacular. I hope you're enjoying your break so far, and I can't wait to hear from you.

No one will ever save you if no one can ever find you

So I've managed to make my life a total mess in the last few weeks.

I started thinking I could do something when all along I probably knew it was too late, and then I was crushed when I was told that it was, indeed, too late. I put myself through a week of unnecessary conversations and unnecessary tears and unnecessary worries. And I don't care what anyone says - I didn't get anything real out of it. If you'd like to provide me with an example of something I did get out of it, I welcome that. But I don't want to hear "I know you got something out of it. You might not see it yet, but you did." If you can see that so clearly, I'm going to need you to tell me what it was. Because I'm still not seeing it.

Anyway...

Then I decided to try to hide things from some of my friends, and...well...I mean, we all know I can't hide anything when it comes to my emotions, especially with the specific people involved. So I ended up hurting them and pushing them away even though that was the very last thing I wanted. I haven't heard from one particular person in a week and a half, and it's absolutely killing me. It's agonizing.

My stomach twists and my heart's in my throat every time I see I have a new email. I'm afraid that I was too late again, because I was ashamed and didn't know what to say. It was as simple as an apology, but I just couldn't figure out how to say it. And now that's all I can think about. I've spent a lot of time either in bed or on the couch, a lot of time crying, and a lot of time alone.

In the meantime, I've been trying to improve my outlook on things. I'm getting back to being on my way to feeling okay with myself. I'm forcing myself to listen to the wonderfully supportive people around me. I'm going to start trying to discern what parts of me are really me, and not just a combination of my parents. My mom always tells me "Ugh, you're so much like your dad" when I do something that irritates her, and my dad's response to when my mom and I fought was always "You're so similar that you just know how to push each other's buttons." I realized in my counseling appointment the other day that I've never really thought about identifying myself outside of that - I have my dad's eyes, my mom's complexion, my dad's short upper lip, my mom's voice, and a combination of their hair with my mom's color and my dad's texture.

But more than that, I identified myself with their personality traits too. My dad's passion, my mom's school smarts. My dad's interest in the humanities, my mom's interest in math. My dad's ability to dream, my mom's stubbornness. My dad's will to do everything possible, my mom's responsibility to the people around her.



Then if all that's from them...who am I?

So far, I think I'm one of Tilly's "Lost Girls" (see title, search song, listen).

I'm working on that.

Tell me I'm a wreck

Life's been messy lately...but it'll all work out eventually. Don't worry, I'm fine. I'll be fine.

I got a haircut today (thank goodness, because it was starting to get all shaggy and bleh). I love going there to chat with Julie. It's like a salon in a movie or television show; I can tell her all about my life and she loves to listen and offer advice. Haha, she's great. She's always on my side, no matter what the issue is - although usually it's about guys. If I mention someone, she's convinced he's in love with me. If it turns out I'm just friends with him (which is always the case, you know), she tells me he wasn't good enough for me. Gotta love her. :)

Haircut!

While we were chatting today, Julie told me that I need to "let my inner jerk out." She said I'm too sweet and care too much about making other people happy, and I need to put myself first sometimes.

I don't know how I feel about that. I would rather have everyone around me be happy with their lives, so if I can do something for them, I'm going to do it. I don't want to take away from the people around me just to make myself happier.

What do I need? I need the people around me to be happy. And occasionally let me know that they like me. Thankfully I have some really wonderful friends. I've been thinking too much lately, especially about things I don't want to think about, and I just need to remind myself to think of those people instead.

I love you all a lot. A lot a lot. In fact, I can't not love you. Speaking of that, here's the song I've been playing nonstop for the past few days that, interestingly enough, is called that:

I hope you all enjoy the Thanksgiving holiday. Much love from Fremont.

I am here with you

Nothing really important to say right now...at least not to say here. I just want to show off the beginnings of two new paintings. :)

There's nothing that can accurately describe the internal joy that painting gives me. Even when they don't turn out exactly how I wanted (like the silver on top of the pink in the bottom picture), and especially when they turn out better than I expected (like the top picture!)...it makes me so happy. I don't know what it is...it's just fulfilling, I guess. The creativity, the knowledge that I'm making something for my friends, the simple beauty of having paint-covered hands - it's so wonderful. I love finding inspiration and making the idea my own, I love seeing it in my mind and later seeing it on the canvas, I love the escape of an afternoon of painting.

That top picture could end up being my favorite one yet. Good thing, because I'm making it for a very special purpose.

Sometimes silence is nice

Because sometimes your life is so full of noise and confusion, silence is nice.
Because people are constantly telling you which way to go, silence is nice.
Because you need to figure out the small victories of your day.
Because you're feeling enough on your own, and you don't need a movie or a song to make you do it.
Because you're allowing others to determine your life and to tell you what you want.
Because as hard as it might be, you're doing just fine on your own.
Because occasionally, you just need to focus on these emotions and these thoughts.
Because every once in a while, you need to focus on you.
Sometimes silence is nice.

Maybe someday we'll figure all this out

...sorry for the lack of communication recently, friends. I've had a rough week and a half or so.

I really don't have much to report, at least not on here. But you should know that big changes may be coming...maybe. Nothing's set in stone or anything, but I've decided to take charge of my own life instead of letting other people decide for me. I'm going to do things that will make me happier, and I'm going to push myself to do something I normally wouldn't think to do.

I need to do it, because I want to be happy. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to do what I love, and I deserve a life that I enjoy. I don't want to waste my time.

So I'm becoming even more myself, I guess. Like I said, I'm taking charge.

By the way, I'm going to be a coordinator for next year's fall break service trips. Thought you all might like to know that.

Oh hey, also. I'm planning on doing some creating over winter break, since I hopefully will have a little free time at home. If you want anything (like a painting or something) let me know.

Also, I'm totally making these someday. Eventually. When I have my own kitchen.

If you could do anything...

...what would you do?

When you hear that question, what's the first thing that pops into your head? Anything in the world, no physical/mental boundaries. What's the first thing you'd want to do?

We're asking this question of various people here at Creighton for my building's spirit week. Our inspiration came from The Anything Project, created by the University of Victoria (in Canada). I won't lie to you - I wasn't impressed with the project at first. Sure, it provided some food for thought. But what was the point? What could just asking the question do to change anything?

As we're filming people answering it for our own video, though, I'm noticing something. Freshmen through seniors are going to be in it, and a lot of them are really surprising me. So many of their first thoughts are of what they could do for others, rather than what they'd want to do for themselves.

So maybe this project isn't pointless. Maybe it inspires consideration of the world and how to improve it. Maybe it gets people thinking about all the things they have the potential to do...because really, we have the ability to do anything in today's world. Who knows what technological advances we could see in our lifetimes? Literally anything could be possible.

So think about it. If you could do anything, what would you do?

Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill

Have you ever wanted to know what it feels like? Depression, that is.

It feels like this.

It feels like that, and it feels like confusion, drifting, apathy, pretending, hiding, anger, irrational annoyance, and shame, because what do I have to be sad about? My life is not that bad. But then when I think about it I keep finding all these reasons why it sucks. And then I think about all the people and things that make me happy, and it doesn't suck quite so much.

So maybe I'm a depressed optimist? I don't know. (oh, I say I don't know a lot when I have my depressive episodes)


Anyway, I broke down in the endocrinologist's office the other day for the third appointment in a row. So for the first time, my doctor wants me to start up counseling to focus on diabetes, because that's such a huge factor in it. She said that maybe doing that will help to relieve some of my stress and anxiety about it, which will help improve my blood sugars. Plus it'll help me get back to at least a neutral state, so maybe then I can start taking a little more control of my life.

I made the appointment the next day. It's funny how just setting up the appointment makes you feel just a little better. Other things that also make it better: people who are naturally happy (rather than trying to make me happy, because that's trying to fix it and that's not what I need), people who understand, my service trip group (because in Alabama it was like my depression didn't really exist, so now I associate that whole experience with happiness).

Song of the week:

A new fantastic point of view

There do not exist in this world many things better than the look of pure joy on your friends' faces when they're happy to see you.

Whether it's after not seeing them for a week (or a month), returning to them when you thought you'd left for the last time, seeing them after only being away from them a few hours, or passing by them on your way to or from class...there's simply nothing like it. Okay, so this is getting awfully far away from reality for the rest of you, so I'm just going to explain what I'm talking about.

Before we begin, I want to let you know I'm going to get a little faithy here. If you don't want to read about it, I understand and won't be offended. I know I have a lot of friends who are atheists/agnostics/struggling with their personal faith, so I hope you all don't see this as me preaching to you. I'm just going to write about what I felt.


Also, how are Disney songs so fitting? (see this post's title, and keep reading)

Obviously, if you read my last post, you know that I went to Montgomery, AL, on a service trip last week over my fall break. At the time I wrote that one, I was unsure of how to feel about it. I started finally getting excited during lunch the day we were leaving, when I knew it would be a week before I saw the people with whom I was eating. As our departure time approached, that feeling kept building until I was nearly exploding with excitement an hour before we were supposed to leave. I was practically skipping to my room after class got out, and I finished packing and called my mom and was ready to leave half an hour later.

I was the first one from our group to arrive at the vans, which actually was probably for the best. It gave me some time to get all my energy out and settle down before I drove everyone insane. By the time we actually pulled out of the parking lot (on time, believe it or not!), I had returned to my original state - not necessarily excited or nervous, but ready to go.

We stayed in Columbia, MO, that night - a little less than 1/3 of the way to Montgomery - because Eric's parents were so incredibly kind and let us spend the night at their house (Eric, tell your parents thanks again!). On the way there, I had one of the potentially most important conversations I've had in a very long time. I've never spoken so openly about my depression with someone I barely knew...I've never spoken about my depression with someone I barely knew. I for once wasn't overcome with emotion while talking about it, and I was able to see things a little differently because of the questions I was asked. For once, I didn't feel like I was just talking at someone. My listener was interested and curious, and I'm assuming (correct me if I'm wrong) had never really experienced something like that before, so maybe they learned from it too. I hope so.

We went to the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis that Saturday. It's inside the hotel where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was shot, and the entire experience was so surreal. I stood just a few feet from that spot. I looked into the room where he stayed. What?

The National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, TN
The wreath marks the balcony where Dr. King was standing when he was shot.

Saturday night, we arrived at Resurrection hungry, tired, and worn out from driving 12 hours that day. Somehow we all summoned up the energy to hang out for a little while, but I had to go to bed after a little while. We went to Mass on Sunday and heard from Fr. Manuel one of the most moving homilies I've heard in a long time. I've heard the reading ("Give to Caesar what is Caesar's and give to God what is God's") a countless number of times, but it never really meant much to me. To be honest, I'd associated the entire thing with money. Fr. Manuel spoke about giving ourselves to God, though - He made us, and we are His. (See, I told you it was going to get faithy) So it provided some food for thought, most definitely.

The second thing that struck me about Mass that day was the music. Previously, I'd always thought, "Why is Gospel music such a big thing? Do people really need to be entertained while they're at church? That's not what church is about." Uhh, hello Ali. You were wrong. Experiencing it firsthand made all the difference. I realized partway through Mass how full my heart felt...and if you've been following along, you're probably aware of the fact that I've been struggling with that for a while - struggling with actually feeling something in my chest instead of the pulling weight that's been there for a few weeks. I was happy to be there, happy to be singing along even when I didn't know the words, happy to be seeing all these other happy people. So something occurred to me during the Mass...maybe the South has been doing it right, using music to express their joy and praise for God. I mean, music is where I usually find my peace. So maybe it's not about being entertained during church - maybe it's about being fully present.

The whole group at the Resurrection church picnic:
Mary Clare, Chelsea E., me, Eric, Nolan, Amy
Andi, Chelsea L., Katie, Sarah, Anne, Garret, Anthony
Teresa, Jessica, Kathryn

After Mass, we set up for the church picnic at a reception hall a few minutes away, and then we served and ate some really delicious food. By the end of it, the ladies at my table were force-feeding me the most delicious bundt cake I've ever eaten and pudding and other desserts. I think I gained ten pounds at that picnic alone.

Later in the week, we also got to see the National Civil Rights Center in downtown Montgomery (not to be confused with the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis). Its focus was on some of the people who were brutally killed during the Movement and whose deaths were important but maybe not well-known. It was very small and didn't take long to walk through and read everything, but I got more out of it than the museum in Memphis. At the end, it showed that civil rights has to do with more than just the Movement of the 1960s, that it's something the world is still struggling with tremendously. The very last part of the center was a dark room with a huge screen on one wall with countless names floating down to the floor. It was the Wall of Tolerance, the name of which I didn't really like (I prefer "acceptance" to "tolerance"), but I found it very moving to be inside that room. I wrote a lot in my journal that day, more than doubling the number of pages I'd used for my previous entries. It was definitely a powerful day.

A couple things I wanted to remember from the National Civil Rights Center

Oh man. This post is starting to get way too long. Umm...summary of other things:

I got to hang out with a bunch of 7th graders at Resurrection School, and by the end of the week they actually thought I was cool - possibly because I broke out the Dougie in Sr. Gilda's classroom. They were pretty awesome kids, not gonna lie.

My 7th graders!

I drove around the city with a few others delivering food boxes to some elderly people, which was quite the experience - Ms. Viola was wonderful, telling us to stay in school and making it obvious that she was proud of us for going to college, even though we had just met her.

We had dinner with Ms. Taylor (from the Equal Justice Initiative), Rev. Graetz (the first white preacher to publicly support the Civil Rights Movement), Dr. Hardy (who had been heavily involved with the Movement starting in his teenage years), and Mr. Malden (Nelson Malden, NOT Mandela, who was Dr. King's barber when he lived in Montgomery).

With our special dinner guests

We visited Mr. Malden's barbershop, where the guys trimmed the hairs on their heads. Anthony, Andi, and Garret got haircuts, and Eric got a straight shave.

The guys with Mr. Malden at the barbershop - don't they look great?

We visited the home for disabled adults that's located just behind the church, where I met Bobby, who reminded me a lot of one of my cousins and was really cool.

We had dinner again with Mr. Malden, and also Fr. Manuel, Fr. Fred, Michelle (who was in charge of us for the week), and a few other guests.

We helped to organize and put on Resurrection's annual gala fundraiser event where we met Ms. Bonnie and Ms. Charlotte, and I have never felt so important to two women who I'd just met ever before. I got my Southern accent back for a little bit, and now it's a lot easier for me to slip right back into it (Ms. Bonnie sounds just like my Aunt Judy, who lives in the southern part of Texas). We may have gotten food poisoning from that benefit, but who knows?

My darling Ms. Bonnie!

A lot of us were sick on the way back this past Friday. Mine hit later than everyone else's - they were all sick in the morning, but I didn't get it until we stopped for fried chicken in Memphis that afternoon. It was (of course) worst while I was driving, but I had some Gatorade and water and slept when Katie took over driving for me, and I felt a lot better that night. We stayed at Eric's house again (seriously, Eric, you can't thank your family enough for all they did for us!) and got some really great bonding time in.

If you ever go to Memphis and want some really good fried chicken, go to Uncle Lou's. Seriously, the Sweet Spicy Love  sauce was amazing, and the place has been on the Food Network twice!

I had a couple more conversations that were really critical. I found a kindred spirit whose new friendship I treasure very much, the final drive back into Omaha was again filled with a conversation that was very important, and in the affirmations I received at the very end of the trip, I found something in myself.  All these things, all these conversations...they helped me to uncover something. I don't know if I can define it accurately for you, but it's like the words people said to me that day helped me to find a beauty inside myself. It's still faint, but at least I can see it now. It's a new fantastic point of view, if you will. (eh, you see what I did there?)



"We left as strangers, but we became a family." (credit to Nolan for that one)



So did I come back changed? Maybe a little. But more than that, I came back rejuvenated, with a strengthened voice and a strengthened will to continue to be an advocate for those who are silenced.

This was by no means every detail of the trip - there are so many things I couldn't fit in here, things I'm keeping in my journal and my heart. I'd love to talk with any of you reading this about those things, but for now I'm going to have to be done.

With love, Ali G.

I feel your heartbeat

I'm a little obsessed with The Fray's new single (and The Fray in general, but we all knew that, didn't we?).

Anyway.

I'll be leaving Nebraska at 4:00 Friday afternoon with 15 people I don't really know to go to a place I've never been before (which just so happens to be approximately 17 hours away). That's right, I'm going on my first-ever service trip, and we're headed to Montgomery, Alabama, for a week over fall break. We still don't know exactly what we'll be doing when we get there, but our site has a few different areas where they may need us - an elementary school, a program for elderly adults, and other things. So I guess we'll see! We'll also be helping serve at a Mardi Gras-themed event for our site (Resurrection Catholic Missions). On our way to Montgomery, we'll be going through Memphis and stopping at the National Civil Rights Museum. I really can't wait for that part.

The memorial located where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot.

I'm nervous. I'm nervous, and I'm excited, and I'm a little scared. I don't know what I'm going to take away from this - I don't really know what I'm supposed to take away from this. I've always wanted to go on a service trip, but I've never had the motivation to do it like I do this year. A lot of my best friends have at least gone on service trips before, and quite a few are leading some this year. I'm glad I'm doing it, and I'm looking forward to it (although I'm going to be missing out on a lot of study time that I could probably use). I'm taking my unused "pretty" journal - too pretty to ruin by writing in it, at least until now - to keep track of my thoughts and my personal reflections on the trip. Hopefully I'll get a decent amount of time to do that. I'm thinking with at least 34 hours in a van there and back I should be good, haha. But I think I"m going to need it, just to process while I'm there. Heck, if I could take my paints, I probably would...but then I wouldn't get anything done, because I'd be lost in paint all day. By the way, I've been painting again, just a little. I haven't had much time to paint in the last few weeks, but it's okay. I have one that's almost done - a little yellow songbird on a mottled green background - but it doesn't have to be done until December. I'll have plenty of time to finish it!

Back to service trips. It's going to be a different experience (which is obviously the point). Our trip is supposed to have some extra focus on civil rights and the problem our country still has with racism. That's something I'm not really too familiar with, other than coming from a town that is now nationally known as racist. I tended to stay away from the issue while I lived in Fremont. Racism is something I don't really understand. The color of our skin, the shape of our eyes, the fullness of our lips, the texture of our hair...why does that make a difference in how we're treated or how we treat other people? Genetic traits like that do not determine our thoughts, beliefs, or actions, and it astounds me that this is still an issue in our society. I'm sure this will be a big learning experience for me.

A mural I used to drive by every day and admire. Looking at it now I see a wall that doesn't celebrate our full community - only one race.

 What stories will I have to tell? With what sort of experiences will I return? I have no idea. One thing we discussed in our preparatory meetings was having empty hearts - not empty in the sense that we don't care about anything, but empty of our inhibitions and our prejudices, in order to leave room in our hearts to be filled by the people we meet, the things we see, and the experiences we have. So what will be filling my heart when I return to Nebraska? I can't wait to see.

So this will be my last post until after I return from fall break. I'll have to make sure to write a post relatively soon after I return, because although I don't have any tests the first week back, I have three the next week. I'm sure I won't be able to convey everything in one simple post, but I'd love to chat with you all about it.

Look at (most of) my wonderful group!

Until then, so long! Wish me luck? Is that appropriate? Sure it is.


PS - I'm feeling better than I was in my last post...my last few posts, actually. School is hard, and it's been getting me down a lot lately. God, it's so difficult. But I'll survive. Just so you know. Love you all.

It's like you hit me with lightning

Last night, a resident said to me, "Ali, you look different today - like, beautiful."

Where did that come from? Yesterday was one of my lowest days of the year. I failed a test (legitimately failed it - we get our scores back immediately) in the morning and it just ruined my whole day. I don't know if I really want to be in pharmacy school anymore...or if I ever really did. I was on the verge of tears all day, so much that I had to let them go three times. I felt worthless all day.

I've actually been feeling kind of worthless for a while - at least a couple weeks. Sometimes I think about what I'd be doing if I weren't in pharmacy school, what my major would be, whether I'd be happier with school or not. The thing is...even if I went back to undergrad, I can't see myself doing well in anything. I don't feel like I'm good at anything anymore. I don't feel the passion for school-related things like I used to, and I don't know how to get that back.

So I try to be creative. I try to paint, I try to write. Actually, I don't even write creatively anymore. I realized how sucky I am at that, so I stopped. Now all I do is journal. Pointless. But those are the only things that make me feel better, other than being around friends for distraction.

So I don't know how she could possibly tell me I looked beautiful last night. That's ridiculous.

...but it still made me feel better for a few minutes.

Don't forget me, I beg

Her eyes are so honest.

I may have teared up while watching this video. There's a reason this immediately became my favorite song from the album.

If love is a labor, I'll slave til the end.

I hate this.

I'm too needy. I try to stop, and I just can't. I can't stop expressing my feelings, and I don't understand how other people do it. I just don't get it. I feel too much.

edit: At least I painted a little tonight. I like how these two backgrounds turned out.

Six years has gone so fast

This is Brian. He died six years ago today.

Brian, Jane's boyfriend. Brian, who I'd eaten lunch with almost every day of freshman year of high school. Brian, who I pushed around stage on wheeled scaffolding during strike after the spring play the previous year. Brian, the star-to-be of Big River, the fall play that year. Brian, the guy who wore his plaid pajama pants almost every day, the one who had an easy laugh and kind eyes. Brian, my friend.

Your life is hard. I know, mine is too. Life is hard. But I can tell you, and I hope you believe me, that life is worth it, too. It can be terrifying to think about, but there is always help available. Open up to a friend, see a counselor. Suicide...suicide is never worth it. Suicide hurts the people around you so incredibly much, to the point where they're still asking why six years later.

I might not even know you (but chances are I probably do). Even if I don't, I know that you deserve to be alive. You are loved, and you are not alone. Especially when it feels like you're lonelier than you've ever been, you are never alone. You are a beautiful person.

I want to take everyone in the world who's ever felt worthless, hopeless, broken, or empty, and I want to hug them. I want to tell them that they mean something, that their life matters, that they're not alone...that they're loved.

Your more is less, babe

I can't deal with this right now. This whole feeling unworthy of being loved thing, it's not okay. I try so hard to be loved by people, and it hurts so much when I don't see an outcome. I feel like I give and give, I express my appreciation, I open up. I'm genuine. I love. I just wish that for once I wasn't just the friend.


So I guess I give up. Maybe I'll shut down a little, try not to need people so much. That's the way other people seem to do it.


I wish I could agree with John Mayer when he says, "I believe that my life's gonna see the love I give returned to me."

I can't make you love me if you don't

It's been an interesting few days. All in all, I think the rough patches in my week have turned out to be blessings. A recap:

• black-eyed susans and wild mustard
• sandhills and tree-filled bluffs
• one last sunburn of the summer
• people-loving dogs and cuddly cats
• the Milky Way
• vibrant sunsets
• late dinners
• food from the garden
• standing in a river and feeling whole for once
• being more content than ever
• still having to take life one day at a time
• late night Sonic runs
• pinkie promises through Skype
• tighter hugs than usual

Awake my soul

I was going to make a really great post tonight or sometime soon about how wonderful the earth can be, especially in places like Valentine, NE.

But then today happened and the internet came back to me and I'm just not in the mood to let you all into the magnificent spot that I found in my heart this weekend because I don't think you'd listen anyway.

You can sing me anything

I've been painting.

In front of me at the moment sit five vibrantly colored canvases. There are three small ones - teal, yellow, pink - with the symbols I try to live by each day: peace, love, equality. A larger one, a navy background with a peace sign of green, yellow, and light blue. Another large one, lilac with white brushstrokes on top, with "There is only one happiness in life...to love and be loved. - George Sand" written in black. And to my left are a few other canvases at which I can't help but gaze, painted by one of the best friends I have ever known.

It feels so good to create. My paintings are simple, yes. Quite incredibly simple, actually. But they are mine. I see them and think, "There's paint on those canvases. I put that paint there. That's pretty cool." And I just keep wanting to do it more and more. We put large pieces of white paper (thankfully we have plenty at our disposal because we're RAs) down on my floor for potential paint spillage, and I've been practicing on that since I don't have any more canvas as of yet. I have two more ideas, and all I want to do is make them.

One of my ideas is a Jackson Pollock-style deal, literally throwing paint at a canvas or smearing it around with my bare hands. I'm thinking I'll need to be angry to make that one. Not sure why, but it just feels right that it'll be more of an angry painting.

And then the other...well, that one's a surprise. I can see it pretty clearly in my imagination, and I practiced it today. Between classes, meeting with residents, and other things I had to do, I just sat in the middle of my little living room and painted. I was using the paper that we put down to protect my carpet, and I simply let myself go. I have no idea how much time I spent...looking back, it was probably about an hour or two total, but it felt like it could've been all day. I'm really pleased with how my practice run turned out, and so now I'm really excited to actually paint it on a canvas. But I am a little nervous that it won't turn out the same, mostly because I sketched it out first on the paper and then painted over that. Can I sketch on canvas? Eh, I don't know. I guess we'll see.

I mean, art is kind of about experimenting, isn't it? It might not be perfect, it might not be moving, but it means something to you. Otherwise you wouldn't have made it, right? Right. So I'll go with the flow on that one. It doesn't have to look exactly like what I'm picturing, because the person for whom I'm making it isn't going to know how it looks in my head. And as long as I'm satisfied with it, I'm pretty sure that person will appreciate it too.

Mreeeh. I just want to paint all the things! What sucks is knowing that I'm giving that painting to its receiver for Christmas (because that's the next appropriate time to give things, since that person's birthday doesn't come before then), so even if I painted it tomorrow, I'll have to hang onto it for months. Grrrr. Oh wells, at least I'll be able to make it. What's bothering me about it right now is that I want to make it so badly, but I don't have a canvas or even enough paint to do it. Also, I know what I'm making 4 other friends for Christmas, and I really need to get on that because otherwise I'm not going to save enough time to do it and so I have to go buy the things I need to make them and gahhh I've spent so much money in the last couple of weeks and gahhh.

And suddenly, this has become an incredibly long post with lots of words and no fun things at which to look. So here is a picture of my new paintings sitting on my ottoman because I can't hang them up on my walls yet because in order to do that, I need wire, and I have no wire. 

It's also not the best lighting, but that's because it's 2:15am and the only light I have on right now is the floor lamp that was behind me when I took that picture. And still, I'm not tired, and I still haven't done my homework for Wednesday, but the nice thing about not having class on Tuesday is that you can get things done during the day. I'll miss my free Tuesdays when those classes start next week...

Anyway, I was feeling kind of lonely tonight but now that I've been telling you all about my paintings, I don't feel it quite so much. So that's good. I hope that whatever is happening in your lives is wonderful. You most likely didn't take the time to read all this stream-of-consciousness rambling, but that's okay. Thanks for looking.

Here comes the sun

Shannon interpreted my cards yesterday. :)

The question I had in mind was about my love life in general, and the three cards I pulled from the deck represented my past, present, and future. The past and future cards I wasn't so concerned with, but my present...well well well. The Sun, pictured above, is a very happy card according to my lovely reader. I mean, just look at it - flowers, a child on a white horse, and sunshine. So much happiness.

So it looks like I'm pleased with my life at the present? I'd say that's pretty accurate.

School started a week ago, and it's going alright so far. It's going to be a tough semester, with tough classes on top of the fact that I'm technically taking 21 credits (because you're allowed to do that in professional school). But I'll be done with 2 of them by the time the weekend begins, and one of my classes is technically 4.5 credits (how does that even work?). And maybe I'm actually enjoying that one? So maybe it won't be too bad.

Also, my new freshmen moved in last weekend, and I adore them. My floor, the Honors Scholars Community on the 9th floor of Swanson, is composed of 32 women and 18 men, plus Tim and myself of course. These freshmen are just absolutely wonderful. They're always out of their rooms in the neutral zones, or else they have their doors open. There's always a little noise on the floor, and I love it - community is definitely being built. 20-some of my gals came to Zumba with me the other day, and it was a blast. Tomorrow I'm meeting with Tim and Jesska to talk about some stuff for the Honors Program. I'm just so ready to get this year going! I think it's going to be a pretty exciting year for the floor.

Tim and Ali - best floor partners everrr

There are plenty of other things for me to be happy about right now, too. I'm turning 22 in just over a week, and I'll be spending the long weekend (yeeeeah Labor Day) floating down a river and hanging out with some awesome friends - Tim, Katie, Eric, and Shannon! Then the next weekend I'm going to the wedding of two camp friends (!!!) and hopefully celebrating my birthday a week late with more friends. Ugh life is so good right now.

You are not alone in this

You are not alone.

It's taken me a while to get to writing this post. I've been thinking about it literally for weeks now, and I even got it started. But I have been swallowed whole by Residence Life (not complaining about that, though - it's been such a fun time) and school (yeah, I could do without that right now...) and have thus been unable to find time to devote to writing it.

Also, I just didn't know what to say. Maybe I still don't.

Loneliness is one of my most common causes for my depression...probably the main cause, if I'm being honest. It's the feeling that everyone's forgotten about me, that everyone's having a good time and didn't think to invite me, that no one's thinking about me at the moment. So I'm sitting here with my door open, hearing the sounds of freshmen making friends and not worrying about classes yet because theirs don't start until Wednesday, and I'm alone and thinking about loneliness and feeling it, even when I've been with friends all day long.





Okay, so I swore I was going to make this post positive.


There are a few of you out there for whom this post is specifically meant. I don't know exactly what to tell you, but I want you to know that you shouldn't ever feel like that. You're always on someone's mind, even when you're not aware of it. Hell, you're on my mind a lot.

Especially during those times when you're all feeling crappiest, hit me up. I might not be able to answer you at the moment, but I notice when you try. I adore seeing my phone light up with your names. I think about some of you so very often, and I want you to know that. You're loved, you're appreciated, you're important. Remember that.

The design in the stars

When I was younger, I could lay on the patio for hours on an autumn day staring at the sky. I wondered how it could be so incredibly blue, so impossibly clear, so wonderfully vibrant. I could feel something in it, something entrancing, but I could never quite put a finger on it.

When I feel the chill of the Midwest winter winds rushing into my lungs, the sky distracts me from my work in the evenings. I notice that even at midnight, it's a strange mix of mauve and sunset orange, glowing with the lights from the city. I ponder the color of the clouds, swollen with snowflakes ready to fall. Something about it keeps me gazing.

When I can tell a spring storm is ahead, I look first to the sky. The curious, sickly green color of the sky that settles around me is fascinating. I eagerly anticipate the lightning that shocks the area around me from the darkness. I am calmed by the drumming of the rain, the shaking of the thunder.

And when I'm home in the summer, I can see the stars. I have always had a love affair with the summer stars, shining and glinting in the navy blue velvety sky. I watch them for hours, searching for answers, for a design in the stars that might be the same as the one in my heart.

I am still unable to say what keeps me watching, which answers I desire from my sky, but I do think I might be getting there. Maybe one star is burning just for me, trying to find its way to me because there are billions of them and billions of us and it's so hard to find just the right match. Maybe there's a hint in the purple of the winter clouds or in the bluest sky I've ever seen. Maybe someone else wonders the same things as he watches his own version of the sky.

Maybe someday I'll know. Maybe not. But at this moment, I can live with the mystery.

I could offer you a warm embrace

Adele's back to being stuck in my head. Make You Feel My Love, One and Only...they say it all. I've got a headache from the tears I've been needing to cry but couldn't. Twice now, HP7P2 has given me the release of emotion that I need. Also, I really can't wait until everyone comes back.

13 years

13 years gone like 13 minutes...underwater.

Now that July 18th is over, I think it's time for a little reflection. The day marked the 13th anniversary of my diagnosis with type I diabetes, and to be honest, it was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. It carried a lot of emotion that I hadn't been expecting, and the day in general hurt a lot more than it usually does.

Normally my "diabeteversaries" are happy occasions, days when I get treated to a nice dinner and sometimes even cake! The past few years have been really chill, because after a while it's not such a big deal anymore. I didn't mean for this one to even be a big deal. A Facebook status, a Tumblr post, a tweet or two. Not too much. But I guess it was my own fault that it became a bit bigger, because I talked about this one a lot. I mean, it is kind of interesting that my diabetes is a teenager now. But then I started making it a bigger deal than I even wanted it to be, so much that Claire even made me a cake (which was delicious and so awesome of her - thanks friend!).

It didn't help that my mom sent me this text: "Hey hun, it never ceases to amaze me how much courage you have shown in dealing with your medical conditions. I'm thinking of you on this 13th anniversary. Luv, mama." I overlooked it when I first got it, but when I went to reply later, it just hit me. I wouldn't be alive if it hadn't been for her.

It was a reminder of how fragile my life is, how easily I could lose control, how easily it could kill me. Maybe you don't know this (or maybe you do), but I've had four seizures, including two in my sleep. I've struggled with the temptations of diabulimia (which I'm sure you can find some information about on the Google machine - too much effort to go into it right now), it's been a major source of my depressive times, and I stopped caring for a long time during spring semester this year. No, wait. I didn't just stop caring; I let it take over, I let it get to me. For the first time, I felt defined by it.

Diabetes sucks. It really, really sucks. And I legitimately am sorry that I can't explain it very well to those of you who aren't diabetic. Unfortunately, you just can't know how it affects you unless you have it. I know you can see how it affects me, and you might feel like you get it, but it's just one of those things, you know? One of those things that is just impossible to fully understand until you're the one dealing with it. That's why camp has been so important to me - it's the one place where everyone really understands. I've never had the same connection with another person as I have with Lauren, my best friend from camp. I'm very lucky to have someone like her who understands and has had very similar life experiences.

I apologize for any time ever when I have not been very patient in talking with you about it. I know that you might just want to understand better, or you're curious about how things work. If I have lost my patience (or lose it in the future), please know it's not your fault. I know I have said before that it's my favorite thing to talk about, but if I'm being honest, it's really not. I'm not going to avoid talking about it or try to keep it a secret, but I only talk about it because it's something I can discuss for hours on end.

Another note - please, please spare me the diabetes jokes. They're a lot less funny when that's your reality. Also, they hurt more than you think they do.


I guess what I'm getting at here is that diabetes is a large part of my life. It affects me daily, to an extent you can't imagine. People tell me they couldn't imagine giving themselves shots every day, that I'm so strong and courageous, that they wouldn't be able to do it. I know they mean well, and I really appreciate the sentiment. But honestly, I would trade anything for it. I'm not brave, I'm just trying to stay alive. You might not think you'd be able to do it, but five injections a day is a lot better than dying so that's the option I choose.

So...I guess that kind of covers it. It's confusing and it's messy and it's anything but pleasant. It comes with other issues, it creates a lot of problems, and it's inconvenient. It creates days like this that end in tears, and it hurts - both externally and internally. And now, once again:

Proof that there's sunsets and silhouette dreams

I got caught in the rain.

It might not have been exactly the experience I was looking for, but it had a similar effect. Elane and I went to the Parachute/Michelle Branch/Goo Goo Dolls concert on Friday, and it was fantastic. It was a great reminder of what music means to me - I think I've been forgetting that lately. I wasn't expecting much from Michelle Branch, but I think I actually got the most out of her setlist.

The rain fell lightly while the Goo Goo Dolls were playing, and it had such a cool effect on the show. While the rain fell and we were singing along, I couldn't help but feel happy. Life was beautiful in that moment. As we left the concert, though, the rain started pouring down harder and harder. That was more like what I had wanted to experience, but we were running to the car so I didn't get to just stop and let the drops hit me. I did enjoy it, though. It was refreshing and fun.

Going back to that last post...I was in need of a really good cry when I wrote it, and I was trying and trying but I couldn't. Thankfully I got my chance to get it out during the Harry Potter midnight premiere! Haha.

But I'm starting to feel it again. I just want to watch sappy movies and read poetry and receive hugs. That's all I want right now. And I miss all my friends who aren't in Omaha severely. I think I've made that pretty obvious and I have no other way to say it that I haven't already used. I just really, really miss you all.

Also, Let the Rain just started playing on my iTunes, which I have on shuffle. Coincidence?

I just need the rain to remind me

"I always felt it before, that the world was filled with much more than the drowning soul I've learned to be. I just need the rain to remind me."

I need to get caught in the rain.

I'll be walking around campus with nothing to do in the late afternoon. I'll feel the drops begin, followed by the downpour. Warm summer rain will fall on my head, for once clearing the thoughts that swirl there. Not worth it, worth it, do something, don't do anything. The water hitting the still-warm sidewalk will create a mist into which I can retreat, a cover behind which I can let the rain fall from my eyes. Because try as I may, I cannot cry now. I have nothing worth spilled tears at this moment, but I need to cry.

There are too many ways this song (found here) is a representation of my life.

I want to darken in the skies, open the flood gates up. I want to change my mind, I want to be enough. I want the water in my eyes, I want to cry until the end of time. I want to let the rain come down, make a brand new ground, let the rain come down.

Dear future pharmacist Ali,

I have some advice for you.

Remember that at one point, you were a first-year student who didn't know anything. At one time in your life, you didn't know how your pharmacy was run, where to find certain drugs, or what all those abbreviations in the signature on the prescription meant. Once, you had no idea how to take a script over the phone, or how to do a transfer to your pharmacy. You had to learn how to use the computer program and someone had to tell you all the shortcuts.

One day, a student will come into your pharmacy to shadow you. She'll have curly red hair, tons of freckles, and a terrified look on her face. She'll be really nervous because she'll have only spent about 100 hours in a pharmacy total, and she won't even remember a lot of what she learned then. She might have a job that's completely unrelated to pharmacy because she loves it and she needs to make/save money to finish school. She might not be able to answer you when you ask her why she's going into pharmacy. She might not even know if that's really what she wants to do.

That's why you're there. Your actions will be significant in this girl's eyes. You could be a driving force when it comes to her final decision to be a pharmacist. You're there to teach her, to be the one that shows her the tricks and tell her how things work. You'll be important in her life, even if it's only for a few days.

She'll make mistakes, you know she will. But that's why you check everything, because everyone makes mistakes. You'll still make them at times. So my advice to you: be patient. Remember the things your mother taught you about teaching. People generally don't completely understand everything after being told once. Heaven knows you don't! When you have to remind your student of something, say it gently. Don't make her feel like she's an idiot because she didn't already know something. Be patient. Breathe. Remember the time when you were that girl, and how terrible you felt when you forgot something the pharmacist told you or when you made a mistake.

Be patient. She'll learn a lot from you - like what kind of person she's going to be one day.

If I ever get the nerve to say hello

Euphoric.

That's how I felt tonight, sitting on a blanket watching my hometown's fireworks show with my second family. With colors bursting over my head, shattering into a thousand little pieces of light, I wasn't even thinking about anything. Entranced by the fiery sky, I didn't feel the need to hold in my stomach, or to mess with my hair, or to sit in any particular fashion. I felt simple, innocent, happy. Euphoric.

As I reread my most recent post a few minutes ago, I couldn't help but notice how out-of-place the last paragraph seems. I apologize for that. I had meant to end it on a high note, but then I ended up getting all lonely and downhearted again. Life is good, and since I wrote that, all I've been feeling is...I don't really know how to describe it. This sort of...giddiness, maybe? Just feeling happy to be alive. There are so many things that I am able to do and so many things that I want to do and it's wonderful.

I have better friends than I could even ask to have - ones who send me letters, play songs for me that make them think of me, respond to my Tumbls, text me with random hilarious things about their days, and call on a random afternoon while they're driving home just to chat for a little while. I am so blessed to have this life.

Omaha, somewhere in middle America

"Get right to the heart of matters...it's the heart that matters more."
Omaha, Counting Crows

It's been an interesting week so far. Fun and heartache, stress and fear, loneliness and love. I think I've still got a lot to learn about myself, but I'm getting used to the idea.

I love this city...so incredibly much. Omaha has become my home in the last year - I actually feel like a visitor when I go back to my hometown. Crazy, isn't it?

You know, I think it's the people that make the difference. Even people I just met a month ago (ahem, Claire) are making this summer the best one yet. It's the conversations I have, and it's the adventures we go on, and it's the promise of being loved for me. That's what makes this my home. Home might not necessarily be a place, but instead it might be more of a feeling. The feeling of having a heart that's happy - that's the feeling of home.

Someday I'll find a man who loves all of me, every odd-fitting piece of the puzzle that is me. And if you already love them...well, sometimes I need to be told that.

(part of) Bandito - Eleanor Lerman

...

This, by the way, this is not a fantasy

It is page 69 (ha ha!) of the manual

I read when we were planning

the takeover

So it didn't happen—so what?

This is better

Wait until I tell you

what's on the next page

These last two stanzas are what really make this poem for me.

This is important right now.

3. Wait for it.
Wait for somebody who is perfect for you. I don't care how long you've been alone, or how easy it is to make excuses for somebody who makes you feel bad. I don't care if it's because you kind of like them, and I don't care if you think it 'could maybe work out.' Wait for somebody who is good to you. It doesn't matter if they make you giggle laugh, because if they give you that empty 'i'm not hungry' feeling in your stomach when they forget to call, they are not fucking worth it. They are never worth your bathroom tears or your constant 'what do you think it means' barrage to your friends. You are worth it. You are stupidly cool/sometimes lame but you have a human pulse and you don't kill people and you deserve to be happy. Maybe this person will take forever, maybe it will take till next week. Who knows when they will get their lazy ass off the couch and come find you? However, until then, don't put up with the bullshit. Don't put up with the bad feelings. Just go do your own thing until somebody fits your puzzle piece. It'll be something for the books. Don't fucking settle for anything less.

Taken from this. This is important right now.

This is life, and it's good.

It's a best friend marrying the man who was meant for her. It's getting to share in the joy of the celebration as a bridesmaid. It's standing up on stage, laughing at the pastor's jokes and feeling the tears in your eyes when you see him looking at her with so much love in his eyes.

It's messing up and accidentally giving the wrong address and feeling terrible and apologizing a million times. It's the awkward introductions. It's the rest of the room disappearing while you're having a conversation. It's so many hugs. It's having a fantastic time while you're not even doing anything.

It's cracking up at old camp memories and it's realizing how well you're understood by each other. It's seeing a perfect little apartment that's so crowded with stuff and knowing there's tons more stuff coming into it soon. It's staying up until 2:30 AM when you have to get up in six hours but there's just so much to discuss. It's not being afraid to share your secrets because they're her secrets too. It's picking up right where you left off, no matter how many months or years it's been.

It's muffins for breakfast. It's a bitter cup of coffee with frozen whipped cream because there's no milk. It's singing along to every song on the way home and realizing that you are so incredibly happy. It's a fresh mani/pedi and lunch before leaving again, and it's a friend coming to visit for a while.

This is your life, and it is so good.

Dear searcher,

I see you tried to find my Tumblr by using the name of this blog. However...
Tall, Red, and Freckled is only my Blogspot blog. And I will not be telling you what my Tumblr blog is called, because that's Tumblr and this is Blogspot and they are quite different.
However, I am okay with you searching for me. :)

Tonight, tonight

What am I doing tonight?

Sitting in my room, watching Pride and Prejudice alone for the third (or is it the fourth?) time this summer.

What a waste of an I-feel-pretty day.

You could crush me

It's that feeling of wanting something so deeply it starts to hurt. It starts in your chest, down below your heart, and it swells and it aches. There are no sharp pains, just a constant throbbing that spreads to your shoulders and down your arms. It's so strong that you think your heart might burst, and you try to breathe and you try to relieve the aching but it just won't fade.

GPOY, Monday night edition

Inside is not a heart, but a kaleidoscope

Too many serious posts lately.

So, I'm living in a building full of seminarians (175 of them) for the summer, in case y'all didn't know that. They're silent right now, which is awkward on top of the fact that they're already awkward in general. But it's interesting, you know? Even in their silence, I'm learning from them - I spent an hour in silence last night, and it was incredibly calming and serene.

I've had the privilege of meeting Father Michael Delcambre recently. He's been here for IPF (the Institute of Priestly Formation) for the past few days, teaching the seminarians. Sadly, he's leaving to go back to Louisiana early tomorrow, but I'm grateful for the chances I had to chat with him.

I don't have much time, so I'm going to make this quick. The main thing I've learned from Fr. Michael is to not only see the beauty in things we notice each day, but to try to understand why we noticed them. He calls it our "grace moment of the day." I feel like I'm not explaining this well.

It's a moment during our day when we can feel or see God in our lives - something that awes or amazes us. Does that make more sense?

Anyway, I like the idea of it. So I'm going to start doing it, journaling my grace moment each day. I think it'll be a good way to really examine the beauty in my life.

Sorry, I don't want to go all evangelical on you guys. This is basically just me rambling. But I just wanted to share that little piece of happiness with you. :)

Is anybody listening?

Can't get enough of this song lately.

A Finger, Two Dots, Then Me - Derrick Brown

This, guys. Just this.

Room 516

blue sticky tack still on the side of the shelves, a long red hair stuck in it
a crack in the white plastic light fixture
plate on the south wall, its slight tilt that drove me a little crazy
irremovable safety rail on the side of the bed
drawer, third from the bottom, that only stays shut when it's empty
remaining furniture rearranged
missing a refrigerator because I brought my own
but that impossible microwave is there, the one that always burnt the popcorn
a teal plastic hook that I forgot in the bathroom
and the drain in the shower completely loose
missing its screws since it was fixed

scuffs of maroon scarring the west wall

reminders of the chair that once sat there

Important things happened here,
where I found perfection in the imperfections.

I just can't this right now.

I can't this.

I'm trying to escape in happy memories and Harry Potter books, in work and in thoughts of home on Wednesday. But I can't. I can't shut out the hateful words, I can't block them from my memory. I can't deal with name-calling and I can't deal with words being put in my mouth when I never said them (and never would).


I can't cry because I'm at the front desk, working with a girl I hardly know and there are priests and seminarians everywhere. I can't cry because you're not here and there are other people moving into your room, because you're in Florida and I'm so happy you're there and I hope you are too. So I can't need you here right now because that's not fair.


But damn it, I do.

6:59 AM - Shane Koyczan

I've been told
that people in the army
do more by 7:00 am
than I do
in an entire day

but if I wake
at 6:59 am
and turn to you
to trace the outline of your lips
with mine
I will have done enough
and killed no one
in the process.

Signed sincerely, me

Yep, I'm doing it. I'm writing a post about not writing.

It's been a long time since I've written something real...on here, at least. That crap poem where I couldn't put into  words how much I felt doesn't count - a) because I couldn't put into words how much I felt, and b) because I wrote it in a notebook first. Also, I wrote a letter the other night (that made me cry because I was so overwhelmed with everything I wanted to convey), and it will be on its way to the recipient very very soon (I promise). So I have done a little writing, yes, but not like this. This is stream of consciousness, flowing straight from my fingertips, less thought-out and deliberate writing.

Why, though?

I don't really know. Maybe I haven't had time to collect thoughts about any particular subject. Maybe I've just kind of been floating along the last few weeks and haven't actually felt passionate about any particular subject. Maybe it's that I don't want to share everything with...well, everybody.

Of the three options I've just allowed myself to consider, I think it would have to be the last one that is most likely to be the cause of this writer's block(?). It's quite possible that some of the subjects about which I've wanted to write are too much to share here. It's possible that they might be looking at this post right now.

#whoops

Also for that reason, I have not been sharing nearly as much personal information as I usually do...well, anywhere. Because I don't know who's seeing this or my Tumblr or anything else, I don't want to overstep boundaries that might exist or cause awkward situations that are only going to break my heart. I'm usually so willing to share everything with everyone, and now I'm wondering why. If I put everything out there, where's the mystery? It's the mystery that makes people crazy, makes them think and analyze and crave.

Sometimes I wish I could focus on certain people and see what they do. It would make things so much easier. But then I know that I wouldn't want to use that power, for fear of not seeing what I hoped.

So basically, I think about you a lot, and all I can do is hope that you do the same. Except about me. Because you shouldn't think about yourself as much as I think about you. That's just conceited, and you're not like that.

This rambling post brought to you by the 1:30 AM version of Ali G.

new pitcha :)

I felt pretty today. :)

In a romantic mood tonight

...but then again, when am I not?

• Pride and Prejudice playing on my tv
• champagne-colored nail polish
• TOTES wearing this for Lauren's wedding
• probs ending this calm evening with a little Pablo Neruda
• this movie has one of the best soundtracks I've heard
• especially "Dawn"

Also, I happen to be surrounded by young, single men. And they're all pre-priests. Greeeat.

Wait what?

Uhh...no comprendo.

I think I need a good things list right now

• Started out the day with some awesome people at the Omaha Heritage Festival...interesting to say the least.
• Got a little sun! :) Thank goodness for SPF 15 makeup, otherwise it'd be a lot worse.
• Saw Andrea for a little bit - I miss my Kiewit staff friends with a ridiculous amount of missingness, so it was really great getting to chat with her.
• Went through a tonnn of pictures to find the ones I needed to print. Such great memories.
• Baaaaaseballlllllll game - MVC champions! #rolljays
• Got the attention I needed - less than what I was really hoping for, but that's okay.
• Working on a care package for Patrick. :)
• Feelings validated by Tumblr - sometimes it's okay to be a stupid girl.
• My first experience with Red Mango! Yummmm
• The Prince and Me on TBS ♥
• HP and the Chamber of Secrets to finish the evening.