And So It Goes

Just a few thoughts....
"To be trusted is a greater complement than to be loved."
~George MacDonald
"Trust is the most important thing you will ever earn."
~from the Dove Chocolate wrapper on the fridge
"Without trust, words become the hollow sound of a wooden gong. With trust, words become life itself."
~John Harold



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Christian, Congratulations my dear friend. You deserve every happiness this life has to give. The next step is more like a leap but just remember when you get nervous, baby steps.
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I like those friends who knew you when. I spent the last two days with a couple of my favorites. In a perfect world, friends would never move away but would stay in the house just 15 minutes across town.
In a perfect world, there would be absolutely no rejection. My sister has known for a week that her 1st choice college denied her admission. She hadn't told anyone until today, and she did it with her usual stone wall disposition. I cried in the car on the way home, I was disappointed for her. Not that I wanted her to go there, but I wanted her to make the decision for herself. The last thing I want for my sister is for someone to tell her that she isn't good enough. I suddenly feel incredibly guilty for all the times I have.
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I'm really beginning to tire of my guy friends coming to me to complain that there just aren't any good girls out there. Thanks, guys.
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Though there aren't many, there are benefits to being up at 6:30. It is so quiet, except for the bird chirping right outside my window. When was the last time I heard a bird sing? When was the last time it has been this quiet? Why am I interuppting it with the annoying clack of the keyboard? I think I'll stop and listen to God's glory for a while.
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I sit here in front of my computer frustratingly uninspired and absolutely unable to write. After tonight, I will have only one of these Sundays left(allowing for the fact that I pass JOU3101 with a C), a thought that brings anxiety rather than the relief that it should. Pass with a C? It seems to be an impossible feat at this moment. Watching my grades nosedive throughout the semester has been rather unpleasant, and I worry because I am finding it harder than ever to pull something completely out of my rear and put it down onto paper. I have the workings of a story, I have all the ingredients necessary. Supposedly, this class has taught me how to blend those in such a way as the entice a reader through to the end. At this point, I have barely three paragraphs. I would settle for a horribly written, yet complete article. I can hardly concentrate and find myself drifting off onto other subjects like how much I want my roommate to move out or the hundred pages left in the Harry Potter book I have spent the afternoon reading. J.K Rowling is intoxicating and completely addictive. Maybe I cannot write because I am ghostly pale in comparison to her work of art. She must have passed Reporting with an "A."
I traveled 2 hours and 125 miles early this morning in order to be back for church today. Nothing particularly exciting about that, only that it killed my father for me to leave when I did. (Partially the reason why I chose to.) When I walked into the auditorium/sanctuary, I was surprised. Not by the amount of people not there, but by the people that were there. I figured everyone would be at home, worshipping with their families. Most were, but there were a few pleasant exceptions. Jason K. was there, I don't know why I thought he wouldnt be, doing the music thing he does so well. When the congregation finished singing "May the Mind" and as Rob began his sermon, I was taken aback by the sight of Jason walking up the aisle, down the row, and placing himself into the seat next to me. I figured he would have sat closer to the front, and was very happy that he chose not to. I almost began to think that it was me, but then he muttered under his breath that he really didnt want to sit by himself. Right. Ouch.
Okay, here come the nervous butterflies. Why didn't I write this story sooner? Why do I do this every week? UGH! Me and my procrastinating ways. Curses!
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Any second now I'm expecting a visitor. As I sit here, just feet from the front door, I dread the impending knock. I know there will be no where to hide, no easy escape, I will be forced to confront someone I have so skillfully avoided for months now. Tony is dropping by on his way home from the mall. I don't know when exactly I tired of his company, I think it might have been in the split second when he chose to speed in front of an oncoming train rather than sit and wait for it to pass by. No joke, the train missed his car by only seconds. I havent seen or spoken to him since. Thats all about to end. Unfortunately, I hear his incredibly loud and overly large bass booming outside in the driveway. I could live my whole life and never want for this moment.
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As seems to be the current trend, I have skipped right over Thanksgiving. Of course, Thanksgiving Thursday is one day I would much rather forget. Friday is a much better day for me. I have spent the day not fighting crowds in line at the mall or SuperWalmart but indulging in a little thing I like to call the vision. Today erases all the nightmares of the day before; dining on plastic plates with plastic forks on the lawn of a doublewide surrounded by 50+ people, some of whom I don't even know. Instead, I have eaten a traditional Turkey dinner around the dining room table on real china and real silverware with only 5 other people. There were even candles and a gravy boat. This is what Thanksgiving should be.
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It has been a wonderful day, despite the fact that it marks one year since my greatest disappointment. I wonder how long it will take for Thanksgiving to cease being synonomous with great sadness and the feeling that I have let myself and my parents down in such a horrible way. For as long as Iive I will never forget the look on my mother's face as I sat sobbing to her on the curb outside of our house on Thanksgiving night. It's a terrible thing to disappoint your parents.
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I despise cowardess. Granted, I am hardly the poster child for courage and rather define nonconfrontational, but I am a firm believer in letting people in on the things that really affect their lives. I told Bonnie I needed an answer to whether she was moving out by Thanksgiving. The fact that I came home to a letter telling me she was leaving in a week was incredibly maddening. A LETTER?! How many opportunities has she had in the past week to come and tell me face to face? Too many to list. Now rather than enjoy the holiday and savor the break from school, I have to put ads in the paper and put the word out to as many as possible that there is a room available in a spacious 2 bed/2 bath condo only miles from campus with immediate vacancy. For once it would be nice to see her do something but put herself first. I'm put out.
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It's amazing what a little communication can accomplish. It's definitely not as difficult as everyone makes it out to be.
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I hate self-pity. I hate indulging in it even more.
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I was walking through the house and was amazed to see how many picture frames I have, yet not a single one has a picture in them. I tell myself that I'm waiting for exactly the right picture to put into them. You know, the type of picture that captures the fun-at-every-moment lifestyle with the friends I'll have until I die. Then the realization hit. How many "picture frame" friends do I have? How many people in my life are close enough to warrant the frame? I could probably count them on one hand. I find myself a bit angry and more than a bit jealous of the people who don't have empty frames lying around.
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The following tantrum was brought on by no one or nothing in particular, only the fact that I really needed to have one:
I hate that some people make me feel like it's not okay for me to be me...I hate that I'm overly insecure about my looks... I hate that I need people as much as I do...I hate that my roommate blames me for her unhappiness...I hate how little it takes to stress me out...I hate how much I really want to be with someone...I hate that I have to pretend sometimes that I'm okay with the fact that I'm not...I hate how I have absolutely no idea where the time goes...I hate that so many of the people I count on the most are leaving next year...I hate that there are things, important things, that I haven't told my family even though I should...I hate that I have Thanksgiving in a double-wide...I hate that I am a messy person...I hate that my best friend and I really don't talk anymore...I hate that tonight is the next to last Gator home game...I hate that I have absolutely no idea what I am going to write my story on...I hate that my bag of Starburst jellybeans is all gone...I hate that it still matters if my ex-boyfriend is in the room...I hate that there are people that I don't know as well as I would like to...I hate that I graduate next year and have no idea where to go from there...I hate that I have to look for yet another person to live with...I hate MainStreet Chevrolet for keeping my car a day longer than they told me they would...I hate that my dad and I have problems getting along...I hate that the weather only toys with getting colder...I hate that I severely need a back massage and have no one to give me one...I hate when people make plans right in front of me and then don't bother to invite me along...I hate that I'm still really mad at Tony for trying to kill me...I hate that I watch TV when I'm bored rather than doing something productive...I hate that I have absolutely no ability to be responsible about money...I hate that people often misunderstand my quiet nature for something else...I hate that I hate my nose...I hate how hard I am on people...I hate that I can't let things lie...I hate that my sister and I aren't as close as sisters should be...I hate that I've just gone on for thirty minutes about silly things...sigh.
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My mind is racing in about a thousand different directions. I feel like all of a sudden the world has dropped into my lap and I have about a million things to deal with at once. I just got off a six day weekend, and yet I feel like I need a vacation.
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The weather today was decidedly November skies. I love waking up to gray cover and biting breezes. The lack of sunlight seemed to cast a melancholy over everything, which was unfortunately appropriate for the news of the day. Today I was told that my friend's father died suddenly this morning, the wife of another friend was involved in a rather serious biking accident this weekend, and a UF student from my high school died in a car accident. It bothers me that I didn't even know him.
It took me a while, but I have recovered from my Monday. Last night's RUF was a saving grace. I don't know how he does it, but Clif Wilcox reads my mind just about every week. How else would he know exactly what I need to hear on any given Tuesday? How else would he know that I needed to hear the "don't worry, trust in God" sermon yet another time? The man has a gift. And then there are all of my wonderful friends who make me forget about everything but what is really important.
I'm anxious to move on to tomorrow. I wish for the same fall skies, but with an accompanying joy. Until then, there is late night television and my warm, almost comfortable bed.
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It's never easy to come to terms with the reality of who we really are. I'm having the worst time possible trying to accept the fact that the image seen by the people around me doesn't mirror the image I have in my head.
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A two hour drive in the car alone affords alot of time to think and to come really close to going back on a promise I made earlier. If I can't be disappointed can I at least wish to do the whole thing over again?
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"Losing hope is easy when your only friend is gone and everytime you look around it all just seems to change. But hanging on is easy, when you've got a friend to call and nothing's making sense at all, you're not the only one who's afraid of change."

~Jack Johnson
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So, I have a few small confessions to make...
1. I watch cartoons, and I like them.
2. I talk to myself, and probably more than most people.
3. Not only do I sing along in the car, but I sing loud.
4. I milk injuries and illnesses for everything they are worth.
5. Sometimes I'll tell people I studied really hard for a test that I did well on when really I only skimmed the chapters right before coming to class. I don't want them to feel bad.
6. I think curly hair is quite possibly the most attractive feature any person could have.
7. I really don't like some of the people I graduated high school with, but will pretend that I do so I'll have something to do when I go home.
8. I talk to my mother everyday, and I miss it when I don't call her.
9. I am extremely competitive, but generally only about things that don't really matter in the long run.
and...
10. I cried in "Free Willy." I thought it was sad.
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Life is full of little joys. My teacher told me to leave class today and not come back because my average is so high that I don't have to take the final and no longer have any reason to be there. I have a bag of Peanut M&M's in my desk that seems to refill itself everyday. I got a check today at work out of the blue. Tomorrow is Friday, and it's a long weekend.
Remember the joys, Mandy. Focus on the joy, not that one nagging disappointment that seems to overshadow your day.
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I found myself sighing alot today. Looks like somebody's got a case of the Wednesdays.
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So, I think I'm in trouble. More and more I can feel my heart being dragged into a situation that, for the time being, it really has absolutely no business being in. Once again, the gold medal champion at making too much of things has defended her title and won. I'm hopeless, a lost cause. Ugh.
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Severly lacking any inspiration. All I have are complaints, so I won't waste your time or mine.
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I have spent the day on the couch, scared to move from my position. From time to time over the past 8 years I have suffered from excrutiating back pain. I never know what will set it off, it seems to come about without any sort of habitual irritation. It's the sort of pain that stops you in your tracks and makes you afraid to take another step. It causes me to crawl, rather than walk, up the stairs, and, when I can, to walk in a crippled sort of manner that if anyone saw me I would be incredibly embarrased. It doesn't bother to stay continuously, only making short but intense visits for a week or so. Medication and heating pads do nothing, its not a muscle ache. Doctors say they can't really help without knowing what causes the pain and the sharp stabs in my lower back seem to take a rest just about the time I walk into the doctor's office. I hate to be a hypochondriac about all of this, but after suffering from this since I was 12, I'm really beginning to think something might be wrong. My mother told me I shouldn't drive or ride my bike around school too much, for fear that an attack might cause an accident. I have plans to visit the not very Urgent Care Center tomorrow. I'm afraid the oh-so competent staff there will be unable to help me in any way but prescribe yet another useless anti-inflammatory. My life should not revolve around anything this painful.
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"I wish you out of the woods, and into a picture with me.
I wish you over the moon, come out of the question and be."
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I drive a great deal. With my job, I have to drive all over the stinkin' county. Then, there are trips home, trips to Orlando, trips to Jacksonville, etc. Anyways, as I was driving home yesterday, I made a few observations:
1.> Not enough people drive with their windows down.
2.> Buckling up after months and months of not putting on a seatbelt is incredibly uncomfortable and very restricting.
3.> People who are committed to the left lane and refuse to move over even though they're going 5 under are more obnoxious than clowns.
4.> It's very hard not to laugh at the Ford Focus who zipped past you 30 minutes ago going 110 when you see them later on the side of the road trying to explain to the Highway Patrol officer why they were going 40 over.
5.> Traffic is the work of the devil.
and...
6.> You know a CD is good when you have listened to it 3 times in a row and don't feel the need to change it.
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