Day Three Hundred and Seven - Culture Shock

You ever think back to times in your life and say, "That wasn't so very different from now."? I do that a lot. I do believe I have mentioned in this blog that I used to work at a bar and had a number of lovely coworkers of whom I was very fond. I saw one of those coworkers tonight. And it was all I could do to keep my face looking normal.

This lovely girl whom I met about a year and a half ago has aged about 7 years. She looked, to be frank, terrible. Her eyes were sunken. She had wrinkles. Her hair looked thinner. And her smile screamed of hopelessness. I gave her a hug and asked her how she was and she showed me her new tattoos. She asked how I was and of course I immediately started gushing about Anthem. My Anthem. My wonderful Anthem. And then... then I remembered how different things really were when I worked there. How much I had gotten used to, and how now it seems completely foreign. I was suddenly culture shocked.

"Ooooh, he's cute! Do you send each other naked pictures?"

I just stared at her for a second. "Um, no. No." I had literally just finished telling her about the calling at 4:30 am to tell me he believed in me story. No.

She hit me lightly on the shoulder. "Phone sex?"

I blushed and looked down, "No, no." Don't get me wrong. I am incredibly attracted to Anthem and cannot wait to kiss him. But I'm also looking forward to holding his hand, to being able to hug him, to hold his face, to look in his eyes.

She laughed, really, really loudly. Unnecessarily loudly. "Ah! Of course you have. You have to do something. I just hope you bang this one. Okay. Well. I've got to go." And she was grabbing her bag and was gone. And I just stood. Culture shocked. She wasn't always like this, was she? I remember she used to drink a bit much at work, and we had to take care of her at work rather frequently, but... I remember when she was happy in a relationship. We've always had different values, different lifestyles. But this?

I hope she finds something that genuinely brings back her smile and makes her feel safe and fills that hole inside. And I hope I never get so hurt by life, so knocked down, that it comes to that.

Thank you friends, for always being there to pick me up when I fall down. Thank you, God, for always bringing hope to my heart and filling me when I feel dry. Thank you, Anthem, for bringing the biggest smile to my face and my heart that I've ever known.

Day Three Hundred and Six - Promise Me

Promise me we'll do this right. Promise me we won't make the same mistakes we have in the past. Promise me you'll always tell me when you're having a rough day. Promise me you won't hide your tears from me. Promise me you won't ask me to hide mine from you. Promise me we'll always bicker. Promise me you'll always tell me I look beautiful, even when I know you're lying just to make me feel better. Promise me we'll never stay in all the time. Promise me we'll actually live the brief life we've been given, and not waste it in front of a TV. Promise me you'll sing me lullabies sometimes. Promise me we'll fight together. Promise me we'll never give up. Promise me we'll travel. Promise me we'll pray together. Promise me it'll always get better.

Day Three Hundred and Five - Vulnerable

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

I have spent the vast majority of the last few years of my life making sure there wasn't a single person in it that I would consider a 'need' person. Need people are the absolute fastest way to ensure that your heart gets broken. Guy or girl, doesn't matter. The moment you need someone, they're gone, and you're the idiot that gave someone that kind of power over you.

Let me explain to you how hard I have worked at this. Everyone who reads this blog understands how deep my love for the OSM is. That is is an unfading love. I will always love the OSM. Nothing will ever change that. But I have never asked for the OSM to return such a love. I know he loves me. I know it's a real love. But I never asked for it to mirror my own. I have no expectations for the OSM whatsoever other that so long as he loves me, he loves me well. I have kept my hand open with him, fully knowing that someday we would not be as close. Someday, we will only be acquaintances, the distance of life will have gotten the best of us. It's bound to happen. Though it is my dearest hope that when we cross paths again, we will be able to thoroughly enjoy each other's company once again for a few hours and remember all the good times.

The entire time I have loved the OSM I have prepared myself for the fact that we would not always be the closest of friends. I have held him in my heart, but I always tried to respect the fact that someday God would call him elsewhere. Open hand. Open heart. No heartache.

I feel I have successfully done this for the past few years. I've lost some dear friends, and gained a few as well. But none of the lost ones broke my heart, nor will any of the few I have gained. They are free. To go or stay in my life as they please.

Except... except now for one. I woke up this morning in an absolute panic. My heart was racing. There were tears in my eyes. And I knew - all that hard work was for nothing. I'd given someone the keys. I'd let down every wall for them. My heart was theirs. They could do as much destruction as they chose. All they'd have to do is leave and it would break. It's terrifying. I am terrified. What was I thinking, letting this happen? I can have love, I can have deep, meaningful relationships without this. And yet, here I am. My heart in the hands of another. All I can do is trust and pray. And know that it won't kill me. So far as I know, actually dying from a broken heart is a very rare condition. It'd still hurt, though. It'd still devastate me.

Trust and pray. I'm not going to try and control or take my heart back or try and manipulate him into staying. I'm just going to trust and pray and keep being me. Because... because that's the best thing to do. That's what started this whole thing. Being myself. Smiling. Laughing. Being free. I'm going to keep doing that. Because vulnerability doesn't mean hurt. It can also mean the deepest, best hug your heart has ever gotten. It can also mean healing. It can also mean letting someone truly love you. And... for me... right now.... it's worth it.

Day Three Hundred and Four - Finally Makes Sense

There is a song by Hunter Hayes called "Wanted" that has a line that says, "I don't know how you do what you do, cause everything that don't make sense about me makes sense when I'm with you." I'm discovering daily how true that is. I understand so much more now. I understand why my heart is the way it is. I understand why its so intense and why its so protective and why its so stubborn. It makes sense now. I understand my strengths and my weaknesses better. I'm thankful for them. 

I understand that my 'girly' desires are not a weakness at all, but a strength when they're fulfilled. When I feel cherished, I am unstoppable. When I feel wanted, I am free. And I am free. I am free to be me. I have never felt more free, nor more myself than I do at this moment. 

Free to be silly, free to be goofy, free to be ornery, free to be girly, free to be strong, free to be confident, free to be shy, free to be modest, free to be faithful, free to be true, free to be beautiful, free to be weak, free to be the best sparkly marshmallow I can be. Free to move to Wisconsin (fingers crossed). Free to chase my dreams overseas if need be. Free to follow my heart. Free to praise my God. 

All the parts of me that never made sense to me before do now. Because they seem to have found their match. He gets me. He helps my quirks make sense because they match his in the most unexpected ways. And I think he feels the same. We make so much more sense when we're together than we ever did apart. 

And wouldn't it be true? The heart that seems to fit to mine better than any other is nothing like what I was looking for. It's so much better than what I was looking for. Man, I love it when God overrides me and gives me the gift that's best instead of the gift I asked for. That... that is a good Daddy who loves His daughter. 

Day Three Hundred and Three - We're Both Right

Today, I got into a rather epic fight with my brother. About politics. We agree on almost identical platforms. (I believe in same sex marriage, he does not.) However, we do not agree on the best thing to do in this election. He says that the best thing to do is vote for Romney because every vote for Ron Paul or Gary Johnson is a vote for Obama. I say that I cannot in good conscience vote for 'the lesser of two evils' who, in my opinion, isn't really 'lesser' at all. I want real change. And Romney sure as hell isn't going to give it to us. He's so close to the left he's purple at best. And if more people stuck to their guns and voted for the lesser known, but vastly better guy, he might actually have a chance at winning and thusly bring real change.

Thing is: we're both right. He's right. But so am I. Gary Johnson isn't going to get into office. He's not going to win. And his is stealing voters from the right, not the left. But I'm right. If more people refused to be a sheep and vote for the 'lesser of two evils' then we could actually get someone who could change the country into office.

Unfortunately: we both lose. Because it's an endless cycle of the chicken or the egg, we're going to get stuck with one of the two evils and have to start all over again next election. We lose. The country loses. And nothing changes.

And nothing will, until we change the way things are done.

Day Three Hundred and Two - Gluttony

It's a terrible, terrible thing, gluttony. It's bad for the environment, it's unsustainable, it's terrible for your body.  That being said: Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because I get to be a glutton twice and feel absolutely no guilt at all. That and all the giving thanks. And I think that's... good.

Moderation in all things, including moderation. Some things that would be terrible ideas to do every day, or even have strong habits. Like gluttony. But that doesn't mean they can't be done for good reasons at the right times. 

It's sort of like sleep. Despite what the doctors say, that "there is no such thing as 'catching up' on sleep." when I have not slept for 30 hours, I need more than 8 to feel right again. And for me, right now, love is sort of like sleep. Specifically affection. I'm being a total glutton for affection right now. There is a wonderful man who is just showering me in it and I'm drinking it in like a woman dying of thirst. And now that I've had a taste, I had no idea how thirsty I was!

In conclusion: I'm sorry if my bliss is annoying you. But daaaaaaaamn this feels good and I'm not going to stop because it makes you a little nauseous. Gag away. I'll try and be understanding when it happens to you. 

Day Three Hundred and One - Not Two The Same

I have watched more fairy tales more times than I can count. I have read even more than that. I have read real life accounts of true forever love. I have even watched a few couples turn their marriages into the greatest things I have ever seen. I have watched a few out of high school marriages fall apart. I have known a whole slew of people who got divorced. I know a few that have been divorced more than once. And there is some solid advice out there from those who have made it, and those who haven't. 

"Don't get married too young."

"Don't rush it, love will wait."

"Be careful of falling in love too fast, lest you fall out of it just as quickly."

"Be with someone who makes you feel free, rather than tied down."

"Be with the person who makes you laugh even when you want to cry."

"Marry your best friend."

"Make sure your family and friends approve. They know you best." 

"Make certain you both know what you want out of your marriage, because if you're working toward separate goals you're certain to fail."

"Infatuation fades, love is forever. Make sure you know which one is pulling you down the aisle."

And more than I could possible write even if I wanted to all night. And some of them are true for all people, some of them are based on statistics, others on things that they would have done differently if given the chance. There are old couples that got together when they were 17 and are more in love now than they were 60 years ago. There are couples that knew each other for a decade before they even started dating. And both are equally happy. I know couples that fight all the time and couples that fight once a decade. And both are equally happy because their personalities are vastly different. I know couples that got married two months after they started dating and are blissful and couples that had a 2 year engagement that are blissful. 

My conclusion is simply this: your love story will be unique to you and God loooooves to shake up your expectations. If you always wanted a long engagement, be prepared for a short one. If you always wanted a simple wedding, be prepared for something a little different. Whatever you expect, remember that your love story involves another human being that is completely different from you and the two of you coming together will create something completely unique that you could have never, ever imagined. 

No two love stories are the same. And not a single one is more right than another. We make our own, and sometimes they make us. Own it. Love it. Live it. It's your story. And because it is, it is the best story. 

Day Three Hundred - Our Motto

"Nothing like what I expected. Everything I need. Better than I ever dreamed."

Let me tell you what I never expected: a boy who wears skinny jeans and v necks. Who cares more about music than books. Who is sexier than any man has any right to be. Who doesn't care that I like football but tells me, "I hope your team does whatever it needs to do to get enough points to beat the other team." Who is more interested in the fact that I have a good palate and care about food than the fact that I can make it for him. Because he just wants me to enjoy food with him, regardless of who cooks it. Who talks to God with his guitar. Who is far more stylish than I could ever hope to be. Who has more sisters than brothers and a family just as complicated as mine. Who is a city boy from the west coast.

And yet he's everything I need: He prays for me. He reads the Bible with me. His playfulness brings out the playfulness in me. He understands my heart. He's kind. He makes me smile, constantly. He ALWAYS wants to talk to me. He has made it very clear that I am never a bother, that I am always wanted. He ALWAYS reads the stuff I send to him, because, "If it's important enough for you to mention it to me, it is important enough for me to read it as soon as I can." He makes me laugh even when I'm so stressed I want to cry. He tells me I look beautiful when I wake up in the morning and when I have a nice layer of olive oil on my face at night. He understands that sometimes lighthearted fighting is fun and necessary for our personality types. He thinks I'm adorable when I shovel food into my mouth. He calls me at 4:30am when he knows I have to get up for my flight just to tell me that he believes in me and is proud of me no matter what happens. He pushes me and stretches me. But the best part... the best part is that he makes me feel free. When I'm with him, I'm more free to be me than I ever have been before because he's there to encourage every stupid facial expression and every careless laugh and every puzzled question and there to hold my heart when I'm stressed and when I can't think straight and when I want to cry. He doesn't even try to stop the tears.

And he's so much more than I ever dreamed: Did I mention the sexier than any man has any right to be? Or that he can sing so sweetly? Or that I can hear his heart singing to God when he plays his guitar? Or that he wants to (and does daily) spoil me with attention and affection? He does. He chases me more than any man ever has. He values everything about me, from my heart to my mind to my taste to my toes to my nose to my smile. I've never, ever had someone who wants to talk to me as much as he does. Who respects my relationship with God so much and wants to learn about it to grow with me. He gives me a hope for the future I've been afraid died three years ago. And if God does such a thing as putting icing on the cake it was definitely the glasses, lip rings, and tattoos.

My conclusion is simply this: Jesus, thank you. Thank you for showing me that my expectations were silly, that what is really important has nothing to do with sports teams or where you grew up or what style of jean you wear, but has everything to do with your heart. And his heart takes my breath away and makes me feel safer than I ever have. Thank you for sending him to stretch me, to grow me, and to not have to do it alone anymore. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Amen.

Day Two Hundred and Ninety Nine - You Know You've Found A Keeper When...Part 1

We've all known, all along, that deep down inside I'm a gushy romantic. If you are not, feel free to skip this particular blog. And the next hundred or so. I love you, and I'm sure snarky sarcastic me will make a comeback sooner rather than later, but right now it's time to give the limelight over to hopeless romantic me. Also, for those of you who are hopeless romantics, married, engaged, or dating someone you truly love, please please please feel free to leave your own. I want to hear about your happiness too. P.S. To the OSM - I will accept you talking about your life long relationship with yourself that makes you happy, but if you start  being all anti-love I will smack you. Hard.

You Know You've Found A Keeper When...

He calls you at 4:30 am on your big day just to tell you how much he believes in you.

He wants to see you the moment you wake up, and even though you look like hell, he tells you you're beautiful.

Even though he is so different from anything you've known before, he'll say things that make you think he's known you your entire life. Like somehow knowing you prefer tea to coffee, understand that a compliment involving unicorns means more than poetry, and knowing how much you need a sweatshirt of his before you even have to ask.

You're telling him about something you're passionate about and he stops you right in the middle and says, "I want you to finish because this is fascinating but I just had to tell you how incredibly sexy you look when you're passionate about something."

He puts God before you, and wants you to continue to put God before him.

He sees you in your pj's with your hair in a pony and your facial moisturizer plastered on your face and your glasses off and just stops what he's doing and says, "Baby, you're absolutely stunning."

He understands how much you need your girl time and leaves you alone so you can enjoy it.

He makes you feel safe, especially when you're out of your comfort zone.

Just the sound of his voice relaxes you so much you can feel the tension begin to drain from your muscles the moment you answer the phone.

Day Two Hundred and Ninety Eight - Shake Me Up

I hate it when the OSM is right. It annoys the ever living crap out of me. Because it makes me wonder if, being older than me, if he will always know something that I don't. I digress. He was right.

I crashed into Anthem. He sent me spinning. And to be totally honest, pissed me off more than a few times. That is, until I realized he was stretching me. From almost the moment we met, he has been taking me out of my comfort zone. Not in the sense of trying to make me uncomfortable, but to open me up. To get me to step out of what I have always known, because it's so much roomier out of my shell, out of my box, out of the small corner of the world in which I like to hide. He was nothing like I ever expected. He took all of the assumptions I had and threw them out the window. He took the idea I had in my head and shattered it. And I love that. It feels so good to be stretched, to be pulled, and then to be hugged and kissed on the nose, because I can see the pride in his eyes because he knows it wasn't easy for me. It's like he just walked into my life and flipped it upside down. In the best possible way.

And the OSM is right because I did have this idea of a fairy tale in my head, and that was so incredibly messed up. I dreamed of perfection, which is possibly the dumbest thing I've ever done. Because I don't want perfect, and perfect certainly doesn't want me. But a real person, with problems and pain and struggles and praise and triumph with a real heart that has been broken and put back together, who really cares about me... that is what I need. Not a dream in my head. But something real.

And I think... I think that's my favorite thing about crashing into Anthem. Because he was brave enough to be real with me, he was able to wake me from my dream and I'm so glad he did because... when he's in my world, the messy realness is so much better than the perfect dream.

Day Two Hundred and Ninety Seven - Crash

That word has so many meanings for me. Crash. At times it brings me back to The Barbarian Way and calls me to a faith that transcends life. At times it reminds me of how I've shattered into a thousand pieces when life has crashed into me and how much it hurt. Sometimes it reminds me of when I have crashed into life and absorbed everything the moment had to give me. And sometimes it pulls from me the desire to crash into someone, to find that person that will send me spinning and never let go and hold me so tightly it hurts.

I think that's why I love the word so much. Because not a single definition of it doesn't require courage. There is no small way to crash, no way that doesn't demand all you have. There is only its way. It will give you everything, it will take everything, it knows no in between, no middle ground. It will never change for you, you have to change for it.

When I was praying the other day, that was pretty much what I heard. That it was time for me to crash. But to do so, I'd have to run, to chase, to give it everything I've got. And I haven't yet. I've accepted, I've gone with the flow, I've let things ride but I haven't given it everything. I haven't crashed into it full speed.

But I don't think its because I lack courage, or maybe it is. Maybe having courage, and choosing to use it are two totally different things. Maybe some courage comes out only when you draw it out of you, not out of desperation or of need but pulling it out with nothing but sheer will to take the chances that will take you forward into the life you were always too afraid to lead.

So here's to pulling it out, because I want to. Because it's time to crash, time to spin, time to be taken apart and put back together. It's time to crash.

Day Two Hundred and Ninety Six - Please Don't Do That

Please don't bite your lip like that. Please don't give me that smile. Please don't say my name, not... not like that. Please don't laugh so softly. Please don't sound so passionate. Please don't wear those glasses. Please don't be so funny. Please, please stop making me smile. Please don't be so interesting. Please don't be so sweet. Please, please don't be so honest, so sincere. Because when you do... I can't seem to stop myself from falling for you. But what I really mean to say is please don't stop doing everything you're doing because I don't want this to end. I don't want to stop feeling like I swallowed the entire migration of monarchs. I don't want to stop falling. I know I will eventually, because I have to land. But maybe... after falling for you, I could land in you. I bet you feel like a feather bed.

Day Two Hundred and Ninety Five - Is It Worth It?

I have a friend, we'll call him Teddy because although he appears to be someone you'd never want to meet in a dark alley, like most giant men who have done time, he's a Teddy Bear. Teddy is 37. And found the love of his life. I met him about two years ago. And ever since he's been telling me that he'll never find anyone, and never get married. That is, until he met her. He's blissful. He's beaming. He's in love and wants to marry her, and there is no doubt in my mind that she'll say yes. He waited for her for 36 years, and I bet if you asked him, he'd wait another 36.

I guess my thought is simply that love, true love, with the person who completes you, is worth the wait, no matter how long it takes or the road you traveled to find them. Knowing Teddy as well as I do, I can say that she is one lucky woman. And knowing his standards, so is he. I'm only 24. While I don't want to wait another 12 years (especially for the sake of my uterus) to find the right guy, if that's what it takes to not settle for someone that isn't right... then I will. Because that look in his eye... that tells me that its worth it.

Day Two Hundred and Ninety Four - Football Church

Every Saturday I wake up, excited. Every Saturday, I get to join a congregation of people who, while vastly different, hold one single thing in common, and we gather together in various locations to participate in the same event. We shout with one voice. We celebrate together. We all share in our defeats. We put aside our differences, we focus on our commonalities, and for a short time we are one. 

I wish church was like that. I'd go, if church was like that. Instead, I have been abused, demonized, and cast out of churches. I have watched them fall apart over trivial, insignificant details. I have watched people claw at each other. I have witnessed more back stabbing than I thought was possible. All in churches, by regular attendees who claim that they love Jesus more than everyone else, and will do anything, other than love their neighbor, to prove it to you. 

So for now, as horrible as a Christian it might make me, I just avoid the entire debacle. I long for Christian fellowship, I do. But God is good, He has provided me people, just not people in a building. I'm okay with that, for now. Someday, I'll know how to make a difference. Someday, I'll know how to participate, and protect others from what I have experienced. 

Until then, I go to my football church on Saturdays, and try and live out my faith the other 6 days of the week. I'm neither proud nor ashamed of this. For now, it simply is.  

Day Two Hundred and Ninety Three - Confidence

I spent the vast majority of today fighting the entire migration of monarch butterflies that I somehow managed to swallow intact and in their entirety. And no matter how many times I prayed for time to go slower, it raced by and before I was ready, it was 3:30 and the phone was ringing. And it went really well.

Because during the day, even with the nerves, I realized something. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not afraid of this job, of being challenged, of success. I know I can do it and I'm not going to ruin this for myself by telling myself I can't. I know I'm perfect for it. So if I don't get it, the only reason is because my GPA and standardized scores are too low, because I will have done everything else in my power to get it.

More importantly, for the first time, I have hope. There is, in my opinion, a solid chance that I'll get it. And that feels amazing. Just to hope, to have real hope again. To have that confidence in myself again. I'm not sure when I lost it but to have it back means the world to me. To have it back makes all of this worth it.

Day Two Hundred and Ninety Two - A Different Season

You know how those really happy couples always tell you, "I know what you're going through but I promise, as soon as you're not looking, it'll come." It has always made me want to punch people. It's sort of like telling a starving person, "As soon as you're not hungry, there will be food." Good luck with that.

I was never made to be single. I've known that from a fairly young age. Singleness is not for me. I was made to be with someone. And so I'm constantly looking. Not always actively - there was a solid 3 year period that I didn't date anyone because I wasn't in a good place and because I couldn't find anyone that... anyone that felt like home. And during that time I made amazing friends, both guys and girls, who changed me, changed my life, into something much better than I could have hoped. But I still long for love. I'm still hungry. And at no point in my life am I suddenly going to decide that I'm not. 

That being said, I've also realized something rather strange in the past week. For context, I LOVE love songs. I listen to them fairly constantly. The 2 top played songs on my iPod are 'Good to You' by Marianas trench (which you should listen to immediately because it's amazing) and 'Heaven is a Place On Earth' by Katie Thompson which is also amazing. They're both love songs. I can't get enough. But for the last week, I keep pressing 'skip' on all the love songs I have. Not because I suddenly am not interested in love, haha, no. But because my strongest emotion right now is a desire for something else. It's all 'girl power' songs, though not all of them are about girl power. But they're the motivational songs, like "And Run" by He is We. About picking yourself up and fighting for the things you want - the not love things. For me, it's moving and finding a great job and getting myself out of this rut. It's about taking charge of my life and not waiting for someone to come save me from it. Not only can I do it, but I have to if I really want change in my life. 

Because right now, that job in Madison is far more appetizing than any romance. And that is really new for me. Moving to a new town, getting an apartment of my own, and putting my stamp on it is a greater desire than falling in love with a great guy. And that's as 'not hungry' as I'm going to get. 

My conclusion is this: that saying "it'll happen when you least expect it" is my least favorite saying ever. Because if it happens right now I'm going to be so pissed off. It's hard enough to pick up everything and move away from friends and family and all I've ever known. I want it, but it's not exactly easy. And it'll be 10x harder if I'm walking away from an amazing guy to pursue this unknown. So I sure as hell hope that saying is false because for once in my life - nothing is going to stop me from doing what I need to do - including love.  

Day Two Hundred and Ninety One - Don't Get Your Hopes Up

That's what I keep trying to tell myself. "Don't get your hopes up. Don't get your hopes up. Don't get your hopes - dammit." Because they're up. I want this more than I've wanted anything in a very long time. An absolutely amazing job (based on the research I've done for it), in what seems like an amazing town, with a fresh start. And one of two things are going to happen. I'm either going to be elated and moving to Madison, or I'm going to be crushed and still looking.

It's not the end all and be all, it's not like I'll never be happy again if I don't get this job. It's a job. But I do want it. It would change my life. And I don't know how to pull those hopes back down again. I literally squealed when I got the e-mail from them requesting a phone interview. I spent hours researching the company, the job, and Madison. And let me tell you, it's great. It's heaven in a hellish job market. It's an oasis in a sea of despair. So yea, I latched onto it as soon as I saw it. I highly doubt there is anything that is going to make me want it less. Hopes are up.

But having your hopes up doesn't always end in disappointment. Right? I can hope that hopes can be fulfilled. Oh I give up. My hopes are up, and they're going to stay that way. I'm still keeping all of my options open but let's be real... this is the one I want the most. And to think - when I first got their e-mail saying that they loved my resume but wanted me to move to Madison, I deleted it. Luckily, gmail doesn't actually wipe your deleted messages for at least a day. A day later, I knew I had made a mistake and started the application process. And now... now it's all I want.

Hopes and thoughts and dreams are funny things. They can change in a moment and last a lifetime. They can make you fly, but when crushed, can crush you. They need to be respected, but nurtured. It's been a long time since I had this much hope for my future. Maybe... maybe it's about time I got my hopes up. And kept them up, no matter what happens with Madison.

Day Two Hundred and Ninety - Waiting On A Fairytale

A dear friend of mine told me last night that I was waiting for a fairytale when it comes to love. I disagreed with him at the time. Now... I think he might be right. But he sees it as an impossible goal, while I see it as my only option.

Sort of like my job search at the moment. I need a miracle. So far I've been recruited by insurance agencies and call centers. And I spent an hour and half today learning why I didn't want to be an insurance agent, and a half an hour learning that call centers don't pay a livable wage. I'm praying for that job in Madison, WI. But here's the thing. It's not that I'm too proud to work in a call center, I'm not. I'm not too proud to work at McDonald's. Work is work, and working is always less shameful than not working. But I have bills to pay, and need to find a job that will pay them. I'll work at the call center and get a second job if it comes to that, but even that will just be scraping by. Taxes and student loans are killing me. Well. My checkbook anyway. Being an insurance agent apparently pays out the wazoo. Yes. Wazoo. But that is the one and only thing that sounds good about it. And the one I interviewed at was asking for at least a 6 year commitment. I'm SO not in a place to give a 6 year commitment. 1 year, maybe 2 I could swing for some great paychecks. 6? No. Money is not that important to me. I cannot make a decision for 6 years of my life solely based on money.

So... I wait. I hope. I pray for something better. For something that I'll enjoy, or at least won't have to constantly be someone I'm not. For something that will pay the bills. For something... for something that fits with what I want my life to be. And I'm not going to stop looking until I find it. It's out there. And I'm going to find it. Because I decide what my life will be, not the job market.

The same way I wait for the right guy. I'm not going to settle for someone that can offer me only one of the things I need. I have friends in the meantime, but I am looking for more than friends. I'm looking for forever. In this culture, in this time, forever is so rare I can see where it might be confused with a fairytale. And in this job market, being able to pay the bills without selling your soul also sounds like a fairytale. So... I guess I'm just waiting on a fairytale because anything else just isn't going to work for me.

Besides. When you're a sparkly marshmallow... your life is a fairytale because you decided it was going to be extraordinary and haven't let anyone take your joy, passion, love, and commitment to dancing to your own beat and blazing your own trail. That alone makes you a fairy tale to everyone else.

Day Two Hundred and Eighty Nine - Random Thoughts From The Weekend

So I applied for this job in Madison, WI. Because why the hell not? And then I started day dreaming. About what I'd do. If I moved that far away. It involved a haircut and a new tattoo. And if that's what I do with a new start - I think it ought to be done here.

I would probably go insane if it wasn't for Tex. He is the ONLY guy friend I have that says 'I love you' first. I don't have to say it for him to. Sometimes he just will. God bless him. He keeps my heart from slowly dying. That man is home, even if no one understands how or why.

For the first time in my life I feel like I'm finding my own voice. Turns out I don't like pop music as much as I thought I did. I like random unsigned artists I've discovered through Spotify. And I don't care if anyone else likes them. I do. They're on repeat on my phone while I drive. And I jam out to those catchy freaking tunes that get stuck in my head at work. Life is too short not to sing badly and dance wildly to a tune only you can hear.

Being a fan of a football team that is struggling is more emotionally exhausting than a few of my relationships have been. Yes, I am that invested in my team. I now feel like a terrible human being for not understanding why why the Magic losing always made him so sensitive. I get it now. My bad.

I've got a list a mile and half long of things I'd like my future man to be like. But it really comes down to just one and only one thing: he needs to feel like home.

Lyrics inspire me in ways quotes never can and I'm okay with that. I swear the lyric "I'm so glad we're doing this right," changed my life in a matter of moments because it went past my brain, straight to my heart. I've read so many books and listened to so many speakers and none of it has ever settled into my heart like that. I suddenly got it.

It does not matter how ugly something I make is. Suddenly, it's the best thing I own and needs to be displayed. Especially if it's a scarf. Or a hat. Look at what I made with a funky shaped needle thing and some YARN. Holy crap, I am awesome.

Gotta go to work now. I've got a feeling it's going to be a long, head-bobbing and funky dance moves in front of the elevators night. And maybe, just maybe, there will be bacon at the end of it. That would be fantastic.

Day Two Hundred and Eighty Eight - The Death of Superwoman

I had a friend once whose nickname, with certain people, was Superman. Because he was always trying to save people. It was obnoxious. It was annoying. None of his friends liked that side of him. Some people did, though. Girls, mostly. There were a lot of girls who wanted to be saved by him. The rest of us just wanted him to be himself. Flawed. Lovable. Reliant on God. It was when he knew he couldn't save the world that he was the man I loved.

And I was always so mad at him for loving the Superman side of him rather than trying to put it to death, and put it away, and be himself. Until I realized that I was constantly trying to be Superwoman.

Granted, our motivations are very different. Well. I'm not sure. I can't say for sure what his motivations were. But I know what mine were. I want to be important in people's lives. I want them to need me. Because if they need me, they won't leave me.

But the thing is... I can't do a damned thing for anyone. Not really. Not at the 'need' level. I can't save anyone. I can't live out the perfect gospel. Not everyone will think well of me. And being needed is draining. So... no. Superwoman died tonight. I'm done being needed. Keep me around because you want me, or don't keep me at all. You don't need me, and I no longer need you to. For those I love, I hope you love me too. For those I enjoy, I'm now okay simply enjoying you. You get to see my flaws too. I have a lot of them. I even like some of them. For those I simply didn't want to think poorly of me, think what you want.

And cheers to knowing that I don't need every guy to like me for the right one to like me. And the best part? The right one won't need me. He'll just want me an awful lot.

Day Two Hundred and Eighty Seven - Holding Hands

Hold my hands when we walk somewhere. Bring me daisies in the spring. Help me pick up twigs in the fall for all those craft projects you laugh at. Take me to an apple orchard. Eat my game day food. Root for my team even if they're not your team. Kiss me softly. Kiss me sweetly. Kiss me in the rain. Chase me. Day in and day out. Text me. Call me. Let me hang out with the girls and know I'm still thinking about you. Tell me I look pretty. All the time. Understand that going slow doesn't mean that I don't want to spend so much time with you. Don't push me to go further than I'm comfortable. Fight for my heart. Give me your jacket when I'm cold. Don't date me if you don't see a future with me. Don't underestimate me.

Love was never meant to be a casual thing. Even if I can be a casual girl at times, I will never be a casual lover. And yea, I really want to do things the old fashioned way. I want you to hold my hand and be content with a kiss knowing that you'll get everything if you chase my heart and my mind and my soul first. Wait. Wait for me. I'm worth it. We're worth it. 

Day Two Hundred and Eight Six - Worse Than Lag

I understand, as I never have before, the term 'pounding the pavement'. It does feel, quite literally, as if you're repeatedly smacking your head into concrete. And you have nothing to show for it. Except a massive headache.

I've been all over the place lately. Changing plans on a minute by minute basis. Because nothing is solid. Absolutely nothing. As soon as I can find a job, everything else will line up. But that isn't nearly as easy as it sounds. I'm an awesome employee with a stellar resume (that doesn't lie at all) and even better references. I will nail any interview. And I'm struggling to find anything that will pay the bills.

Everything about today was frustrating. The job interview was frustrating (not sure I want to be an insurance agent - can't I just work at your front desk?). Apartment shopping was frustrating - did you know you have to fill out an application just to be able to be shown a house that is apparently owned by a slum lord? I got nothing accomplished other than knowing where I don't want to live.

I am a GREAT employee, but can't get hired because the jobs I want are already filled by people who aren't half as good as I am and do just enough to not get fired.

I'm a FANTASTIC tenant but have to jump through half a million hoops because so much of the population of this forsaken city are either on section 8 or turn everywhere they live into a crack house. I know. I happen to live next to one.

I'm so frustrated I want to cry (that's what I do when I get frustrated, I cry. Imagine how fun break ups are for me.) but I'm not even close to giving up. I am fighting tooth and nail for this future I dream of and dammit I will not take no for an answer.

Day Two Hundred and Eighty Five - Do You Trust?

Let's say that everything you ever wanted is anywhere but here. And I'm not saying I'm staying, dear Lord, please God, no. But let's say, let's say I went with wisdom and my checkbook and stayed here for a year longer. Moved in with a friend, new part of town, new job, but stayed. 

It would ruin three of my biggest reasons for leaving. 

1) To escape the ghosts on the corners.

2) To explore a new town and find life in it.

3) To find a church with people that are a real community, not a social club. 

But could I still rejoice? Could I still trust that God was behind this? That God was working for my good as I sought His will? Maybe... maybe the problem with this town isn't this town. Maybe it's me. Maybe, with a little help, I could find a town I never thought existed. Maybe, with a little help, I could find the community that has eluded me for so long. Maybe, with a little humility, I can get over myself enough to give it all a chance. 

At least for a while. I still want to move, and get away from here. But a year of saving up doesn't sound like a terrible idea either. Especially considering in another year I'll have paid off 2 of my 3 student loans. It's just a thought. A thought because I have an interview tomorrow and ironically, it's in the town I live in. A thought because thinking through every scenario is what I do. Obsessively. 

And no matter what happens, or where I move, or where I stay, or what I do - I will trust. I will trust that He is with me, I will trust that He knows whats best, and I will trust that I am doing the absolute best I can to follow Him and that He will honor that. And I will trust that He is working for my good. Sometimes, our definitions of good are different. But His is always best. 

Day Two Hundred and Eighty Four - Seed

You ever feel like life is closing in on you? Like everything you ever wanted is just on the other side of that wall, but you can't go over it or around it, it just keeps closing in on you? It's dark. But it's hot, not cold. Because you've had enough. Screw the wall. Who does it think it is? You're more than the damn wall. You are unstoppable. And you can do everything you ever thought you could. And you're tired of being afraid. And you're tired of being bullied by the ever shrinking wall. And so you're angry enough to punch the damn wall. And you're going to. It doesn't matter how much it hurts. You are too big for it, and it will give way before you. Even if it means a few broken bones on the way. 

Congratulations, you're a seed. Well. I am at least. I have to fight for it, it's never going to just come to me. I have to go get it. And I have to break through my fears, through everything everyone has told me (potential and failures together), the vision in my head of where I thought I would be by now, all of it. None of it matters anymore. All that matters is that I'm alive and am reaching, running, fighting for what I want. 

And when I poke my head out of this ground where I've been hibernating my winter away in, and see the sun, and breathe the air - every bruise, every wound, every fight, will have been completely and totally worth it. 

And now, now I'm gearing up for the biggest fight me and the wall have ever had. The fight in which I'm going to kick its ass. I'm not only going to get what I need (a brand new, shiny, big girl job that pays all of my bills and then some) but I'm going to get what I want too.

And I want a lot. I want change and movement. I want a place of my own, I want to know I can do this on my own, I want a big bed and larger life. I want a real church community. I want new places to explore, new restaurants to find, new coffee shops to be loyal to. I want to make so many things. And nothing, nothing is going to stop me. 

Don't let anything stop you either. 

Day Two Hundred and Eighty Three - Insta Love

Once Upon A Time... but no.

Life isn't a fairy tale, though it has it's moments. 

Today, I'm curious about something. What if... what if love at first sight (which I have always thought was absolutely ridiculous) exists? Except, it's not love at first sight. Or second. Or third. Or fourth. But it is sudden. A face that's rather familiar, though distant, suddenly becomes everything. Your heart skips a beat. A tear fills your eye, but you blink it away because it makes no sense. A dead heart comes back to life in the single blink of an eye. And it's overwhelming. It's been so long. And it's pointless, because while in that moment everything changed for you, nothing changed for anyone else. Your heart is beating again, but it's still beating... alone. No one is falling for it, even though it is falling again. And you want to cling so hard to the hope that perhaps all the falling isn't for naught, that perhaps your heart won't slowly die again. But the waiting, the waiting is killing you. 

Waiting for true love, that is. There is all sorts of imitations just waiting for me to get desperate enough. Like the guy in the boiler room who wants to do dirty, dirty things to me for just one night. Like the ex I have that I could have stayed with if only I hadn't demanded that we actually communicate. 

So why? Why does my heart do this? Why 'insta love' someone that there is no chance with? No, really. Most guys I can charm my way into their thoughts, and often times their hearts, within a few weeks. This guy... he couldn't care less. There is no charming my way in with this one. I've tried. A few times. Then I gave up and tried just being friends. Nothing. And I don't blame him. Now is a terrible, terrible time to fall for me. Well. Anytime is. Because I'm not a casual girl. I tried that. To be casual. But I want love and forever. And hey, I know it's not for everyone. And I'm not saying lets get engaged on the third date. But I don't date people I can't see a future with. See? Falling for me is a terrible idea. 

My rambling aside, the point remains. Why now? I've never insta loved before. Ever. I've been infatuated plenty of times. I know exactly what that feels like. But insta love is something entirely new to me. I've instant Christian loved people before. Usually girls, but the occasional guy who just needed someone to listen. Those relationships were usually incredibly short and for a very specific purpose. Not like this. Never like this. 

This is one of those rare times I'm asking for your thoughts. If you have any. Has this ever happened to you? What happened? Do you believe insta love, even if it's not love at first sight? I'm still not sure I do. Any love without a happy ending isn't a love worth believing in. And right now the outlook is fairly miserable. And I still don't feel 100% right now, still fighting something off. So I'm sitting on my couch, watching sappy love movies. Wallowing. Because for the next 4 weeks I won't have time to wallow. I have to plan, apply, and pack. And move. And then fall in love with my new town, my new apartment, my new job, and my favorite season. 

I'm gonna go cry now. Because insta love sucks just as much as the old fashioned try-not-to-fall-but-slowly-do-until-you-were-head-over-heels kind. 

Day Two Hundred and Eighty Two - Prayer

Prayer is a weird thing for me. It's been... less than successful in the past. But I realize that I say that still in the journey and I know I'll never know the real outcomes in this life. I'm okay with that. But lately prayer, or the need for it, has been pressing on me. The other day, I was praying and I suddenly needed to be on my knees. It was like I was suddenly 10x heavier, and yet the weight was lifted and a calm settled over me as soon as I knelt. Except I was in a place where kneeling wasn't exactly possible for more than stolen moments. 

And now, a similar heaviness is upon me. The deep, deep need for prayer. Because my heart saw something impossible through my eyes today. And while it makes me feel even more crazy than usual, I don't care so long as I get to praying about it. And I need to. The only reason I'm writing this is because I'm... mildly OCD about my prayer time and if I'm going to actually sit down and pray then I have to do it somewhere clean and my room is a mess. So I figured I'd write about it first. Because... yea. 

I need to write about prayer more often. Maybe I'll get a better grasp on it. Right now, despite having read some very good books on the subject. I'm just lost. I'm gonna go talk to my Daddy about it. He knows more than I do. 

Day Two Hundred and Eighty One - Celebrate The Day

You know what the OSM said to me today? He "We had bacon in three courses, that's a celebration." And he's right. He's so completely and totally right. There were SO many reasons to celebrate today. Let me list them for you.

1) Today was the first official Husker game of the season. This alone is, for me, a holiday.
2) I got to spend the day with friends and family (and facebooking the football fans that weren't near).
3) I figured out how to make chili exactly how I like it.
4) After waiting for 2 years, I finally got a stolen sweatshirt from the OSM. Worth the wait.
5) The Huskers WON with a 29pt spread.
6) And we did have bacon in EVERYTHING. It was in the chili, it was on the burgers, it was in dessert.

Today alone had 6 different reasons for celebration. Each day has at least one. Well, let's be real, most days do. Sometimes you have to look pretty hard for it, but most of the time there is one. And that's the real point. Each day will offer you something wonderful, but its completely up to you as to whether you grasp it or not. Each day is full of good and bad, but will the good or the bad get your attention?

I'm more determined than ever to focus on the good. And not only because it's almost Autumn and thusly every day starts out practically perfect. But because whether the day is good or bad is entirely up to you and what you choose to focus on. Granted, there are things that you have no control over that suck and there is nothing you can do about it. Illness, death, flood or fire, etc. The big things. But most of us don't deal with those big things very often. Most of the stuff we deal with is that biatch with the attitude in the cubicle next to yours that smells like cabbage and has an annoying laugh. Focus instead on the good things in your day, and suddenly the bad things will get so small you'll wonder how they ever affected you at all.

Celebrate each day. You're alive. You're changing. And life is good. You deserve a celebration each day. And so does the world you live in.

Day Two Hundred and Eighty - Rest, Relax, Recharge

I know this guy... who confuses 'blowing off steam' and 'relaxing'. They are NOT the same activity. If you think they are, chances are you're exhausted every Monday morning. Blowing off steam is something that has to happen before you can relax. But if you simply blow off steam, and try to transition that into thinking that relaxing is the same as partying... yea. Exhausted. All The time.

Blowing off steam is important. It is. But so is relaxing. Resting. And recharging. See, it's different for everyone. Just because the movies tell us that you need to blow off steam by going out with friends and having a crazy night doesn't make it true. I can blow off steam by going on a jog, or a drive, or just talking to someone. Granted, going out with friends does work too, but since I don't drink anymore, it's less appealing. For me, resting and recharging comes from being productive. My Mondays are so much easier if instead of staying up late to rebel against my alarm clock and sleep til noon on Saturday and Sunday, I catch up on my sleep and wake up relatively early. My Mondays are better when my dishes are done and my laundry is clean and put away. My Mondays are better when I completed some project and my house is brighter. That's how I relax and recharge.

My question to you: do you know how you relax and recharge? Or are you doing what you think is supposed to relax you? Doing dishes doesn't relax everyone, but it does relax me. Writing doesn't help everyone blow off steam but it does help me. Having clean sheets doesn't set everyone up for the week but it does me. And when I accepted what does rest me and recharge me, like going to bed when I'm tired even though 2 hours on Zelda sounds pretty nice, life got a whole lot easier.

Make your life easier. Do what YOU need to do to blow off steam, to rest, to relax, and then recharge. No matter how silly or stupid it seems, do what you need to do for you. Or the rest of your life might be through bleary eyes and weary limbs. And really. That's no way to live.