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.