why not

Something about him had stuck with her, and it would creep up on her when she heard a song that sounded like one he wrote or ran down his side of the street.

It hadn't even been anything, but it still hurt.

That time, he had been the one to say no.

Well, he didn't actually say it out loud.

But she knew.

Somehow his rejection had hurt more than the others. It was that curious kind of hurt, like when you peel back the bandaid just to see if the graze is healing, except that by doing so, you only make it worse.

Because the hardest part about the whole situation was not knowing why.

Or why not, rather.

But,

we never really do find out why, do we?

the downward glance

I have this bad habit.

For years, it seemed like no one remembered me.
I would meet someone (sometimes multiple times) and if we didn't see each other for a while (or even if we saw each other the next day),

I would remember, but they wouldn't.
I could tell them where we met and what we talked about, but they would reintroduce themselves like it had never happened.

So I perfected this halfway downward glance. A defense mechanism, of sorts, to protect my ego against that harsh lack of words or even a look of recognition, for those times when I passed someone in the hall or on the street that I recognized,

but I just assumed they wouldn't recognize me.

Look up, Oh look who it is, quickly-look-down-again-before-he-thinks-I'm-staring, head down, fiddle with whatever happens to be in my purse, slowly raise my gaze, just enough to check if his pupils are scanning in my direction, and if/when they aren't, look away and walk on by.

But then there is always the backward glance, just out of curiosity, to see if maybe, he realized who I was a split second too late.

I've gotten better, really, I have. I've even gotten up the nerve to be the first one to say hello. Which, believe me, is very outside-comfort zone for me.

But today, it happened again. And it was silly, really. Because I knew he would remember...but the thing is...I wanted him to speak first. Because I had the last word last time.

Suitcase Heart

Loving these lyrics by the Weepies:

I held so many people in my suitcase heart

That I had to let the whole thing go

Sometimes I stretch myself too thin.

I try to be everything to everyone.

And end up losing myself and what I want.

Because sometimes it's okay to care about what I want.

And to sometimes put myself first.

Because if I don't take care of myself, how can I do anything for anybody else?

So out of the crazy, hectic, wonderful busy-ness of this semester, this is what I want:

-to create a decent start on my creative portfolio (and maybe compete in YoungGuns?)

-to get rid of a lot of stuff that I just keep lying around my house. Simplify.

-to make some good habits: eating less sugar and more vegetables, flossing, reading for fun

Anyway.

I love my life. I really do.

I am so blessed with so many opportunities.

But sometimes I think I need to relearn the lesson of Good, Better, Best. :

We should begin by recognizing the reality that just because something is good is not a sufficient reason for doing it. The number of good things we can do far exceeds the time available to accomplish them. Some things are better than good, and these are the things that should command priority attention in our lives.

I think sometimes I have too many good things in my life, and I neglect a few of the "Best" things.

So this semester is going to be another semester of learning. Because that's what education is about.

Not just books.

Or tests.*

It's about life.

And learning how to do it right.

*like the one I need to be studying for right now.

Open for Discussion

I've been thinking lately about natural dispositions.

How the mood people generally wake up in is different for everyone.

Curious, pensive, optimistic, ANNOYED, content.

And how sometimes a person's natural disposition colors the way they look to you. The way you think about them. How much you enjoy spending time with them, or what sorts of things you enjoy doing with them.

Because I think people are usually more beautiful when they are happy.

And I'm curious what others' thoughts are about this subject.

I'm curious what my natural disposition is, what other people see it as, and what I think it is.

And if the two differ.

So tell me your thoughts.

About yourself.

About me.

About your friends.

About the subject in general.

"I am determined to be cheerful and happy in whatever situation I may find myself. For I have learned that the greater part of our misery or unhappiness is determined not by our circumstance but by our disposition."

Martha Washington

"Let all your things be done with charity." {1 Corinthians 16:14}

i've been thinking a lot about understanding people.

and how it takes knowing someone for longer than a day, or a month, or a year, or even a lifetime, to really understand the ins and outs of who they are and why they are who they are.

there is always more to learn about someone.

new ways to love them.

better perspective.

i've been thinking a bit about how everyone is different.

and everyone has different struggles.

and i've realized that the things that come naturally for me, don't always come naturally for others.

honestly, i hadn't really thought about that before.

and i've been feeling pretty grateful.

for all i have been blessed with.

which is a lot.

and i think this understanding that people are different only increases my love for them.

because it's nice to remember that i'm not the only one who isn't perfect.

and that we're all trying.

and fighting our different battles.

and that, in the end, it's not about winners or losers.

it's about who is still standing on the battle field, when the war is finally over,

and there is finally peace on earth.

"Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth..."

1 Corinthians 13:4-8

image via deviantart

i don't wanna sit on the pavement while you fly, but I will*

Sometimes you just have to throw your hair up into a messy bun,
and shrug off the world,

and realize that no matter what is driving you absolutely mad right now,

There is always new air to breathe tomorrow.

image via sabino

*ingrid, you rock. that's all.

Roots

Is it possible to fall in love with someone's family, before you fall in love with them?

To want to be swallowed up in the chaos of a life you didn't grow up with.

To understand the inside jokes and references to family stories.

To share a last name, but not a bloodline.

And to be trusted enough to live up to that name. To know what it's like to be a "______."

I feel like I know just a bit how Lucy feels in "While You Were Sleeping," when she says "I fell in love with all of you," talking about the whole family.

It's not that I'm planning on changing my last name anytime soon.

But when I do, I want to love his family almost as much as I will love him.

And I hope that they feel the same way about me.

image via this

one look

that's all it took.

she looked.

and he looked.

and then she looked away.

it was like he read her soul, page by ink-filled page, despite the sloppy handwriting and the cross outs, until he didn't have to read any more.

he just understood.

he understood why she plays with that ring on her middle finger.

he understood why she sometimes speaks too loudly or too softly when she's in a crowd.

he understood why she always carries a notebook with her, and feverishly puts her inspiration down on paper.

he understood why she dreams about typewriters and monogrammed stationary, not fancy cars or big houses.

and he liked that.

image via vi.sualize.us

People.

Loving this post.

(by the way, she's a gifted photographer. and person. and my roommate.)

I'm surrounded by some incredible people.

Thanks to you all.

Life would stink without you.

image via sabino

Tea-drinking, yoga-doing, bohemian chic

Yesterday, Katie, Kellie and I decided we wanted to be sophisticated and mature.

So, naturally, we bought two different kinds of herbal tea:

African Apple Red

and

some mix of chamomile and lemongrass*


Well.

They were both pretty gross.


I guess we'll stick with apple cider and hot cocoa. For now, at least.

image via deviantart

*(I actually kind of like chamomile tea, but only when I've got a head cold.)

from this stage I can tell that she can't let go and she can't relax

January 15th*, here I come.

I'm getting ready.

I'm pooling my resources and drawing from what I've learned and letting my creativity incubate.

If I can't show you anything else,

let me tell you this:

I want it.

I really want it.

And I'm willing to fight for it.

*The deadline to turn in my Advertising application.

image via deviantart

Sometimes the best things in life...

...come at the most inopportune time.

I have this issue with timing. I fight it. And I struggle to accept it.

Good things tend to come into my life right before big changes; usually those changes involve a change of location.

Maybe I'm a procrastinator when it comes to love.

I wait until the last minute to open up, care, or really look at what's in front of me.
Until it's too late.

Sometimes I think the last-minute romantic fling is the way to go. No time to get bored or lose interest or let my fickle heart play tricks on an unexpecting male. No time to get scared off or overanalyze. No time to get too attached or really fall too deep, because the end so closely follows the beginning.

Love comes to me in glimpses, in moments. Not in some lengthy affair consuming my life for months or years at a time. A moonlit kiss, a few words, a certain scent. I have not learned what little I know about love from one definite experience, but from fractions of days and weeks of almost loves. I have not learned about heartache from a single heartbreaking day, but from a variety of cracks and chips to my heart, wrinkles and wrongdoings that bruise my soul, spread out over months and years.

Maybe that's better. Because I've been able to deal with each, piece by piece, and move on. Because I've never had my world end with a single goodbye. Maybe it's preparing me for that heartbreaking day.

Or maybe not. Maybe it's training for the day when the timing will catch up with my mental clock. When someday the chips will fit together and it will feel permanent, and, most of all, I will feel at peace with that.

"Do not look back and grieve over the past, for it is gone; and do not be troubled about the future, for it has not yet come. Live in the present, and make it so beautiful that it will be worth remembering."

-Ida Scott Taylor

image via deviantart

hum-dum-dee-dum

My friends are getting married.

My friends are getting married, and I'm still single.

My friends are getting married, and I'm still single. And I'm okay with that.

My friends are getting married, and I'm still single. And I'm okay with that. Really, I am.

My friends are getting married, and I'm still single. And I'm okay with that. Really, I am. Most of the time.

But sometimes, it can be hard.

But sometimes, it can be hard to see everyone else happy.

But sometimes, it can be hard to see everyone else happy with everyone else.

But sometimes, it can be hard to see everyone else happy with everyone else. And here I am.

But sometimes, it can be hard to see everyone else happy with everyone else. And here I am. Happy, but alone.

And I wonder why.

And I wonder why I am so independent.

And I wonder why I am so independent, and comfortable with myself.
And I wonder why I am so independent, and comfortable with myself. my-lonely-self.
And I wonder why I am so independent, and comfortable with myself. my-lonely-self. Instead of someone else.

Because I'm not.

Because I'm not that girl.

Because I'm not that girl you know.
Because I'm not that girl. you know, the one who's always a girlfriend.

Because I'm not that girl. you know, the one who's always a girlfriend. And never just, a girl.

I am just me.
I am just me, and I'm learning.
I am just me, and I'm learning. I'm learning about love.
I am just me, and I'm learning. I'm learning about love. And loving myself first.

I am just me, and I'm learning. I'm learning about love. And loving myself first. Because, for now, that is enough.

photo via deviantart

Fathers.

The restaurant where I work is located in a sort of sketchy part of town. Right next to a couple homeless shelters and a few bars.

Needless to say, it's not unusual for me to see a transient passed out on the sidewalk or a group of them outside the shelter smoking as I'm walking from my car.

Yesterday, I was thinking about fathers. And how it's very likely that many or most of these men are fathers, in some sense of the word. And even more, they have/had fathers.

Are their children somewhere, wondering where they are? Thinking about them, more than usual, on this day to honor fathers?

For some reason, it's hard for me to picture these men in any other role than the one they currently fill. I have to remind myself that once upon a time, they were babies. They were children. And teenagers. Some of them were probably devastatingly handsome or witty or talented, at one point in their lives.

But at some point, something went wrong. Whether by their own choices or by mental/physical/economic circumstances beyond their control. (I tend to be rather skeptical, and assume that poverty in this country is almost wholly the result of choices, not lack of opportunity. Although I believe that is true much of the time, I have to remind myself that it is not the only cause).

Few people expect their children to grow up and be homeless. It's just not how most people think.

But it happens.

It's hard to respect someone when you assume that their quality of life is due to drug addiction, or alcoholism.

Though we cannot help them out of the rut they may have gotten themselves into, and we should not condone such behavior, we can show compassion. Even if just in our minds. We can acknowledge them as human beings. And as citizens of this country, with the same rights we have.

I recently read the book, The Soloist, (I'm dying to see the movie). It's a true story. The story of a homeless man in Los Angeles, a former Juilliard string bassist, who struggles with schizophrenia. It's an incredible story. It doesn't have the typical Hollywood happy ending, but it is still a triumph. It's just, real.

It makes me wonder how many similar stories are waiting to be discovered, and recognized.

Anyway, this has grown into a pretty long jumble of thoughts, but really all I wanted to say was:

Happy Father's Day.

To my own dear old dad, and to all fathers. Wherever they are.

photo via deviantart

and they lived.

I found this on A Cup of Jo.

It's heartbreaking, but an interesting twist on the everyday fairytale.

I love the line at the end of Ever After, where it says:

"And, while Cinderella and her prince did live happily ever after, the point, gentlemen, is that they lived."

and then I woke up.

I found him.

My dream guy.

Okay. So he just happens to be a movie star. And he just happens to always play the sensitive yet hilarious, scruffy-chinned yet classy kind of guy I always dream of dating. And I did just happen to watch Alex & Emma, where he is not only all of the above, but also, a brilliant novelist.

But last night we talked. About life. And love. And relationships. And how things can sometimes be so easy. And we were friends. Good ones. And I was hoping that it would become something more.

But, for once in my life, I was patient.

And then I woke up.

photo via google images via this

shake our apathy

"you hold your head like you don't know about, a thousand kids with all their clothes worn out, and you hide behind, this naive mind."

-"Shake Our Apathy", Foiled

This is such a good song. The boys of Foiled are genius. It's more than just a good song with a catchy beat; it's important. The one who wrote this song is my friend's brother, I got their CD from her last year. Just pulled it out today and am so glad I did. Check this out. {note: that was not a question, but a command :)}

another line from the song:

"it's telling you that it all will change, how is that if we all stay the same, and our eyes stay dry, no tears we cry?"

I was thinking...OVERthinking

Sometimes I think that he knows.
But then I realize that it's probably just me being paranoid. ...i tend to do that.

Although really, does it matter if he knows?

It's fading. I know it is. It's not really a secret love, anyway. but it's still unnecessary for him to know.

whenever I hear someone say, (with a particular tone), "you'd really do that? for me?", I think: oh no.
I've done it again; offered to put someone else's needs above my own, when they wouldn't do the same for me. and I think that scares them.

But, a lot of times, it's not me making some incredible exception for them. It's just me, being me. I think I've always been willing to help others out, even if it's a little inconvenient for me.

It means I love them. But not usually like that. love them as a brother/sister, friend, fellow human. I have love for a lot of people. I think I feel love freely, but don't fall in love very easily. If that makes any sense.

But I guess people read into it sometimes.

{note to self: don't let people think you care, until you know they give a care about you.}

[if you're confused, look here ]

Impossible

I hate the idea of impossible. For some, it is motivating. It creates a challenge; something to be overcome.

But, tonight especially, I think it is terribly hopeless. Especially when I know that while it may not actually be impossible, it has to be impossible. For me, at least. I have to make it impossible.

I'm not making any sense, I know.

It's just that, tonight, I'm feeling a little lonesome.
A little more than usual.

Oh, how I wish i knew what life had in store for me. Because it's a little bit easier to take things one day at a time, when you know that someday something wonderful will happen. Wonderful enough to make all the others worth it.

I know it's coming, eventually. I just wish I knew when...

in case you need a laugh...

check this out.

(my way of putting a plug in for the venting blog

if you can relate, I'd love to hear stories :).

~LC