Not that I really think anyone will have noticed, but I decided to officially move to LiveJournal. It's too complicated to have two journals, and LJ lets me have comments and pictures and all that good stuff. I don't want to delete this blog, because I want to keep the posts I've made on it, but for future reference, all updates will be posted on my LiveJournal.
Signing off for the last time,
~A&C
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Today, I had a bad day.
It's significant to note that I don't have bad days often (a fact I realized and appreciated today). In fact, I didn't really recognize it as a "bad day" until Brenda pointed it out. I kept saying, oh, I'm just really tired, I'm stressed out, I'm too busy, but the fact of the matter is, I had a crappy day. I wonder if I was afraid to admit that? Hmmm. Meh, I'm not really in the mood to self-analyze. I'm in the mood to rant, and as this is a random ranting board, here goes.
So everything started well enough. I mean, I knew that I had a bunch of homework I hadn't finished but, hey, I had coffee so the world was all good. Then my coffee went away. And I started doing Algebra. We're doing these stupid function things, which I hate and don't understand. And I wasn't even there on Friday. I shouldn't be expected to be able to apply concepts from notes I wasn't there to take. (Granted, I should have looked at the homework before Monday morning and asked one of my friends who took the class last year to help me, but that really isn't point. Plus, realizing that it's my own fault only makes me more frustrated.) So I'm in the Library at ten till eight trying to figure out how to graph the stupid lowest integer function, knowing full well that I also haven't read the two sections of Beowulf for second hour, nor have I studied for my Psychology test first hour. I gave up. I'd do it at lunch...even though, lunch is when I read a Psalm and try to focus on God.
Fortunately, in Psych all we're doing is finishing up the test for those who didn't on Friday and everyone else gets a sort of work on something else time. Or so I thought. So I read Beowulf. Check, one thing done. With only enough time left in class to realize, hey, I left my Psych notes at home. Yeah, the ones I haven't studied for that test I'm going to make up seventh hour. It's about this time that I figure out that there was a worksheet she wanted everyone else to do. Oops. More homework for me.
So in English Lit I find out that I didn't really need to read Beowulf. It helps, yeah, but I should have studied for Psych. Hindsight is always 20/20. Anyway, that class was normal. There's a test tomorrow that I will miss because I'm taking the Consumer Education test. Fortunately a lot of people will be gone for that so I don't have to find time to make that up.
To add in some more stress, remembered that I also neglected my Physics homework. So I grabbed that book on the way to French, along with my Algebra book, so now my book bag weighs a ton, which causes me to slouch, which makes me look even shorter. In French, I'm trying to get as much Physics done as possible without letting Madame know what I'm doing, or at the very least, pretend like I'm paying attention. I'm not sure if I succeeded. She didn't say anything, nor did I get any looks, so I'm hoping for the best. Anyway, it turned out that I had to copy Akshata's homework, because there was no way I was going to get the whole thing done in French. (And I couldn't do it in homeroom because, of course, that's the time I spend with the Lord. Is anyone else seeing a pattern here?) I really don't like copying. But what else was I supposed to do? *CoughHindsightCough*
I don't really remember exactly what God and I talked about during homeroom. I know it was something about the theme for the day (Jesus as a Shepard/Gate) but at lunch I had to work on my Algebra. I still didn't understand it. Alyssa did her best to explain it to me, but it wasn't clicking. I got a few minutes of solace while she was in the bathroom and I read my Psalm for the day. It was a nice, calming thing. It didn't last long. I was just frustrated for a lot of reasons, and without really being aware of it, all of the days events were sort of pulling me down. Now, it's very strange to me that I could feel this way and not be aware of it. But it's true. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do with that, or what it means. But I do know that when I get this way, I let out long breaths in puffs through my teeth. I do it a lot. Then I feel like I have to exhale slower to calm myself down. I also run my fingers through my hair.
I think this is the reason I didn't notice that I was having a bad day. I wasn't feeling it all the time. My stress sort of went to the back of my mind when it wasn't right in front of me. Like during P.E. I just sat around and talked about Homecoming. It was great. But as soon as I got into the locker room I remembered my homework and instantly became stressed again. This, my friends, is extreme ADD.
Well, by the time I got to taking that Psych test, I wasn't doing so well. I knew that I didn't have my notes (which we were allowed to use on the test) and that I hadn't studied...at all. Well, I got my test and I'm out in the hallway, where it is very noisy, I might add. Someone's drilling maps or something onto the wall Baker's class is doing some project and making a lot of noise. Keogh is next door yelling about Communist China and Mao's red book. I can't focus. By the time the bell rings I haven't finished, but I knew she was planning to let us come back after school. Problem: I have three places to be after school. I talk to Ms. Snow, make that four places.
Algebra was normal. (BTW, Normal=stressful) I didn't really finish my homework. And even though she gave us class time, I didn't finish tonight's assignment.
I want to get to after school. I hurried to get to Psych so I could finish the test and get to Speech. I had tried to study some during Algebra, which would have helped...if I had the right notes. But when I get there, I just keep staring at the page. My mind is blank. All I can think of is how I can't think and how I wish I had studied and what I want to say to make Ms. Snow give me some kind of break though I know she won't. I started to cry. And this was the biggest proof that my day was really worse than I knew. I don't cry in front of people outside of church. For once I was glad my bangs are so long they cover my eyes. Half of me wanted Ms. Snow to see me crying and take pity on me, the other half silently begged her not to ask me if I was okay, because I'd probably have broken down completely. Finally, I just made something up and left blank spaces on my test (which I hate doing). I went to speech, hoping my eyes weren't red, but not having time to run into the bathroom. Natalie was there. I tried not to look at her, because, just like my teacher, if she said anything like are you okay, or even something completely innocent like how was your day I would have started sobbing. My voice kinda cracked as it was. My locker isn't far enough away from the Speech room. I'm not sure what I wanted or needed, but Natalie came over to talk to me. I think she wasn't sure if there was really anything wrong with me or not. Like I said, I don't have bad days much. I can't remember what she said, but I couldn't tell her that I was fine. I was tired. I had a long day.
Almost incredulous, she asked, "What time did you get to bed?"
Sadly, I was in bed by 10:30. That's a very good bedtime. I got seven complete hours of sleep. It was then I realized the tired excuse wasn't working.
"I just had a really long day."
You know, I didn't ask her about her day. I was concentrating too much on not crying.
I was sort of in this I'm-not-crying-everything's-okay mood when I got to church. I knew I wanted to talk to Brenda. I love Brenda. She is the only person that I can really talk to. The only person who I can talk to without.... I don't know exactly what I mean. The difference, I suppose, is this: I wanted Brenda to ask me how my day was. But you know what? She didn't have to. As soon as she saw me, she could tell there was something wrong. She said how are you like she knew the answer.
"I just had a really long day."
"Are you sure that's all, because you look like you're about to cry."
People just noticing that I'm about to cry makes me want to cry.
"It was just a lot of little things...I forgot to do some homework and there was this test I had to make up...it was just..."
"A crappy day?"
Yes! Brenda! You're a genius! I love her.
"Do you want to go talk somewhere?"
There were people in her office. I'm not sure what they were doing there, but I didn't want to cry in front of them. I tried to avoid eye contact.
"I don't know. If we did, it would just be me ranting and I'd probably feel better but it wouldn't solve anything."
By this time, I was crying, and Brenda (very subtly) slipped me a Kleenex. The other girls arrived for Drama. Again, I avoided eye contact. So when Rachel decided it was time to start Drama, I gave Brenda a hug, tried very very hard not to start crying again and followed them out. Before I could get far, Matt (who had been conducting whatever 'meeting' I'd intruded on) stopped me.
"What am I, chopped liver?"
So I gave him a hug too. And this wasn't the type of hug I normally get from Matt. The sort of shoulders come together and you pat each other’s backs. It was a real hug. I wanted to cry more. I'm crying now just thinking about it. I don't know why it is, but when I'm upset, nothing gets at me more than people caring. I'm not sure what that says about people caring about me, but again, I'm not in the mood for self-analysis.
So on the way home, I tried to talk to Jesus. It's not a good idea, though, to cry when driving. But he reminded me that he wasn't going anywhere, and he cares about Bad Days. And sometimes, he just wants me to let him carry me on his shoulders.
I came home, I ate dinner, and I watched Everybody Loves Raymond. At about seven, I thought, man, it'd be great if I could sit down, do an hour of homework, chill out for a bit, start going to bed around 8:15 and be asleep by 9! Yeah, the time is now 8:32. Hopefully I'll make the same 10:30 bedtime I got yesterday.
*Breathes out in a big puff through her teeth and runs her fingers through her hair. *
That wraps up this rant. Here's to tomorrow.
Until next time,
~A&C
It's not the end/The end of the world/It's just another day/Depending on Grace...don't sleep it all away/.../Sometimes life takes so much more than it gives/But the one who makes the air I breathe/Is the one who'll fix the ceiling when it starts to leak/It may look like the end but it's only the beginning
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Mood: Pleased
Music: “I Can Only Imagine” by MercyMe
Mood: Distressed
Music: Oldies coming in from the window
Mood: Too many to count
Music: "Beautiful One" by By the Tree (I think)
Today is Friday the Thirteenth, but may I share something semi-personal that I do that has very little to do with that fact.
In the mornings I read a chapter of the Bible (I'm currently in 1 Peter) and I use the same notebook to record thoughts, questions, funny (to me) comments etc. Before I start, I write the time and date in the margins. Now for some reason, I find it terribly funny when the time and date match. For example, today's date, 8-13-04 matches the time 8:13 a.m. It's silly, but makes me laugh. But wait, here's the funny part. I got in the shower at 7:54, quite determined to be able to write 8:13 in my notebook. Okay, two things need to be understood about me: 1) I take long showers 2) My brain doesn’t really work properly until I’ve had a shower 5) I'm not good with numbers anyway. So I rush into the shower, wash as fast as I possibly can, leave the shower partially wet (which is something I hate doing; I like being dry), and run back into my room with two minutes to spare to get dressed. As I'm putting on my shirt, I look at the clock, realizing the minute has come; I have maybe thirty seconds to sit down and start writing. The clock reads 8:03. Yes, I, Megan, am unable to remember that that's not the reason I took the fastest shower ever, recorded at about 4 minutes. Somehow, I convinced myself that 8:13 is NINE minutes after 7:54. Not nineTEEN. Yes, I'm a dork. Just thought I would share that with you. I have other things to say, but it's now 8:15 and I'm going to go read 1 Peter 2. (I'm going to lie and say it's 8:13 because I think I earned it. Four minute shower! Woo-hoo!)
Okay, I'm back. It's 9 o'clock now. I decided to eat first. Mmmm cinnamon bread...
But I also wanted to talk about speech. Yesterday, I went to school....two weeks early. I went to "speech camp" (which really bears no resemblance to camp at all) and officially became a speechie. (If you don't really know a whole lot about Speech, I'm sorry, I'm not going to explain it.) We had sort of auditions to figure out what I would be good at, what events I would do. Well, the coach (everyone calls him Eric, but he told me he was Mr. Solecki. So I'm going to call him Solecki) thought I would be good at Oratory and Dramatic Duet Acting. Now I have no problem with DDA. I like acting. That was what I wanted to do. But Oratory? This means I have to write a speech, and, well, speak it. Nine times competitively, probably a hundred times before that. The thing about it is...it'll be my own work. It has to be good, because if I am in the least bit dissatisfied with it I won't want to speak it and then not do well. That's just how I am. I'm actually really nervous already, just thinking about it. See, it's personal. It won't just be my performance on display. I could work with someone else's piece. Then it's all about how I use what I'm given, but this is my own work. My opinions, my passions.
But I guess I need to remember something. It's not just me that's on display here. Where ever I go and what ever I do, God will be with me. I represent him, and he represents me. So I don't need to worry about what I will say, for God will give me words. I know I can follow my heart because God lives there. I need to remember Joshua 1:9, 2 Corinthians 5:20, Philippians 4:6 and Matthew 10:19.
Well, I'll wrap up this "rant" on that consolatory note.
Until next time,
~A&C
Actual Time and Date: August 5, 2004 10:20 pm
I’m typing this in Word because I need to get it out now, while the feelings are still fresh. Later, I’ll give an update about what’s been happening to me, but this moment needs to come first.
Recall nearly a year ago with a similar post. I came home from VBS/Borders feeling quite happy, filled with Caramocha, having finished another chapter of Shadowmancer (excellent book, by-the-by) and singing along to “Hallelujah/Your love makes me sing” When I see that my dad has just pulled in before me. Trying not to think mean thoughts about him, I figure he’s just come home from work. At ten. So anyway, I’m trying to hum to myself when he shouts to me across the lawn.
“Hey, Meg? Could you take the garbage cans to the garage?”
Okay, he just walked right past them. Confused/angry I answer, “Why don’t you get them?”
He makes a similar confused/angry/offended noise. “Because I’ve got groceries!” He holds up the bags as proof. “Would it kill you to do something for me?” Those weren’t his exact words. I can’t really remember what he said, but I remember his tone, which implied that I never do anything to help around the house. But you know what? I did the mature thing. I bit back angry responses and calmly asked if both of the garbage cans were ours.
“Yeah!” He says in the same tone and I could sense something like shouldn’t-you-know-that?!
So I dutifully carry the garbage cans to the garage, again fighting down mean/angry thoughts, reminding myself of the promise I made, that I would love my father no matter how irritating he might be. (It occurred to me once that if I never truly loved my dad, I could never truly love my husband, nor God.) So as I begin to lift the garage door, I can hear him talking through the open kitchen window. He was telling my mom what had just taken place. I only heard a few words.
“Job….car insurance!…dishes…”
It was all I needed to hear. Each word hurt, and caused my mouth to open farther in indignation. Okay, look, first of all, he can NOT act like I don’t do anything around the house. I clean up after myself, I do the dishes when asked and my room is clean, and that’s a lot more than he does! I breathe deeply, but can’t control myself any longer. I go over to the kitchen window.
“Hey, why don’t you talk about me like I can’t hear you!” I think I said something else. I’m not sure.
At any rate, I go back to the garage door, and try to open it. Now, the stupid thing is broken, and no longer automatic and often gets stuck. I can only lift it two inches off the ground. Try as I might, it gets stuck in the same place. In a spot of rage, I push as hard as I can, but only end up hurting my fingers. Frustrated tears fill my eyes. Blinking rapidly, I set it back down, inhale deeply, and breathe out a small prayer.
“I’m sorry.”
I take a few more breaths, and then gently lift the door with ease. I put in the two trashcans, then put Amber’s and Sarah’s bikes away, too. All the while I think of what I should say when I go inside. I wanted to scream at him, tell him just exactly how I DO pull my weight, and how he did NOT. But, I thought, it would be better to say that I was sorry first, and then sort of defend my actions. No, actually, it would be best to just apologize. Yes, the one that wouldn’t make me feel any better, but would be the right thing to do. So, trying very hard to control my breathing, I go inside. Immediately, the dog attacks me, but he’s standing there. So I look directly at him.
“I’m sorry for talking back,” I mumble, and make a fast break for my room.
“I’m sorry for talking about you behind your back,” I hear him say. When I get to my room, I start to cry a bit. No tears yet, but close. Deep shuddering breaths. That’s right, easy does it. I lock the door, just in case. I turn the fan on to make more noise, so no one will hear me crying. I know this routine.
“Why is the radio not on?” I say aloud to myself. “I need the distraction.” I turn it on, but no distraction comes. The song is “I will be here,” and the lyrics were just at that point, reminding me that my God is right there, and feels bad for me.
“Oh, Jesus,” I begin to cry. For real this time. Tears and sobs and everything. He holds me and lets me cry. I feel the need to write it down, so I begin to write in my Prayer journal, a tear staining the page. But then, “More” by Matthew West comes on. This is Our Song. I cry even more, as he holds me, strokes my hair, tells me how much he loves me, that he was proud of me for acting the way I did, that I truly shined for him. And somewhere, amidst the tears and sobbing, I find peace. Because I know that I have a shoulder to cry on, even though I can’t see it or feel it. I lean against my bed and pretend it’s him. I wanted so much to fall asleep in his arms that way. In my imagination, I looked at him and he smiled at me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He sings gently.
“And I see you, and I made you, and I love you more than you can imagine. More than you can fathom. I love you more than the sun…and you shine for me…”
I don’t want to move. I want to start eternity right then and there. But I get up and turn off the radio so at least the song will stay in my head a little while and we can talk together in the quiet.
I hope I fall asleep right there, but I know I won’t, as it’s actually a rather uncomfortable position. Also, I haven’t done my evening quiet time or prayed for my friends and I would feel bad about that later. I sigh.
“I wish I could see you and feel you. I wish you could physically hold me.”
“I know. Someday. But until then, know that I’m not going anywhere. I know it’s hard, but it’ll be worth it in the End.”
(Now, don’t be weirded out or anything. I don’t really hear a voice or anything like that, it’s just what I sort of feel like he would be saying if I could hear him.)
I sigh again. “I want so much to love my dad. You know, I can’t remember the last time he said ‘I love you’? I mean, I know he does, he’s my dad…but…I’d like to hear it once in a while. See proof of it. I wish…I wish he were more like you!” I begin to cry again. “I want so badly for him to be a godly man. I wish he had apologized first. He’s my father, the head of our family. He’s supposed to lead us to you, not me!” I pause, controlling my tears. “If he were more like you…well, you’re the best father I’ve ever had!”
“And you’ve had so many?” He seems playful.
I laugh. He always makes me laugh.
“Oh, you know what I mean. But you are the best father. Doesn’t he know that?” I sigh again. “I don’t know if he’d die for me…”
My thoughts begin to trail off, as they often do in my ADDness. Anyway, shortly thereafter I thought it would be a good idea to post in my blog, even though it hadn’t been working all day, maybe it would work now. It didn’t. But I just needed this to be put down. Well, I do feel much better. But…this post hasn’t fixed my relationship with my dad. I just really need him to be the instigator. He probably feels much the same way I do. But he needs to be the adult, for once. (We used to have this joke, in our house there were four kids: Sarah, Amber, Luke (the dog) and my dad. My mom and I are the adults.) It’s going to take a lot of work, though. My feelings against him go back about 4 years, and there’s probably some repressed memory from my childhood that has something to do with it. Ah well. I’m going to bed. I’ll feel better in the morning; I always do.
~Megan
“I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So goodnight, dear void.”
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*Does a happy dance* Woo-hoo! Guess what? I got an INTERVIEW! Cha! I'm very happy about this. Granted, and interview does not mean I have a job.... especially since it's open to whoever comes...but still! This is the closest I've come to getting a job since I started looking in May. It's at Krispy Kremes, and the manager informed me today that every Tuesday from 2-4pm they have open interviews. So I smiled, thanked him, and left the store. Once I got in my car, it hit me. I have an interview. I have an interview!! AND I got a free donut just for coming into the store. Needless to say, I am a happy camper.
However, I would not be Megan if I didn't take the opportunity of happiness to evaluate my character or make a philosophical observation. So driving back down Veterans Parkway, I realize that I haven't been happy yet today. This is not to say that I have been unhappy, but rather that I haven't really grinned like that yet today. I also knew that what I was feeling was just a temporary emotion that was as fluffy as the donut I was eating, and would last just as long. But I guess it's rare for me to be really happy about a normal thing. I'm not certainly not complaining or anything, it was just nice. Usually I get excited about things that God's doing. Few things make me happier than to see someone baptized, particularly someone I've been praying for. And I think I prefer that sort of happiness...it lasts longer.
(Warning: mindless rambling to follow. Proceed at your own confusion.)I don't know. I guess happy isn't a very descriptive word. Because I was happy when I woke up with the sun shining on my face, and I was happy when my favorite song came on the radio for the third time today...but the happiness I felt at getting close to something I've been trying to get for so long was quite different. Man, I need more words. But none of those happys would fit "ecstatic" or even "glad." But I was glad...oy. It's one of those things I just can't describe. I can only do it with colors...images in my mind that won't take words. It's the same thing when I try to describe the difference between Barnes & Noble and Borders. B&N is forest green and Borders is light red or yellow. I think it only makes sense to me...and maybe Natalie ;)
That wraps up this rant, I have to do the dishes (my summer job until I find a real one, ugh. Krispy Kremes here I come!)
Until next time,
~A&C
P.S. I just realized I never came back to tell you all what Tomorrow was. It was Natalie's surprise birthday party. She was very surprised, because her birthday's in December. But we did it on her half birthday, so it made some sense. But the reason I almost said it was because I'm not sure if Nat ever checks my Blog, and it would have just been so ironic if she happened to check it then and ruin the surprise. Okay, I'm done ranting now.
P.P.S. Still trying to improve my vocabulary, halcyon means calm and tranquil...which is sort of like happy.
P.P.P.S. (last one, I'm serious *tear*) Just in case anyone cares, I used the word happy 12 times in this post. Brownie points for anyone who finds them all! (...I'm kidding)
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Something random changed and I'm not sure if this is going to look right, but oh well. That's what the edit button is for.
So anyway, look! Updating! I was going to update a long time ago but I realized I had nothing to say. Well, that hasn't really changed, but I at least have something that vaguely resembles a topic now. I'll call it "My Feelings" Nah, that's too cliché. How about, "My Current Mood" ? Or, "Proof that My Emotional Range is Much Larger than a Teaspoon"? Hehe.
First though, I have the hiccups. Very irritating. It hurts! And I already had a headache.
Anyhow, to get to the point (it's not in Disney World anymore) I do want to talk about the way I'm feeling right now, because I'm confused. (What else is new? (That's a really weird saying, if you think about it. Because it isn't new. It's like saying same difference. (But I'm a bit of a hypocrite as I use both of those expressions.))) See, I'm feeling a little...down, I guess. Not especially perky, probably due to lack of sleep and I didn't eat much today. But rather than acting sort of melancholy, I smile and act like I normally do, since there's no real reason for me to feel that way. I'm wondering if that's correct. I don't want to be fake and pretend nothing is wrong, yet at the same time, my emotions are not really a good gauge of how I'm feeling (particularly during this time of the month, if you know what I mean). Hmm. That's all I have to say about that (just call me Forrest). How unusual. I didn't really rant. I'm not sure if that's good or bad.
On a less confusing note, I made myself a list of goals for the summer. It's passing at a weird rate. It seems like it's going fast, but looking at the calendar, it really hasn't. *shrug*
Well, these are my goals. Some of them are a bit ambitious. (With special parenthetical commentary based on hindsight.)
1) Get a job (Er...still working on that one)
2) Write Purpose Statement (Heh, that makes sense to no one but me)
3) Start an Oasis Newspaper (Oh, yeah. Forgot about that one)
4) Join and be faithful to Helps ministry (Oh, yeah. Forgot about that one)
5) Redecorate room and keep it clean (Well, I got the clean part)
6) Read at least five new books (Eregon, A Wrinkle in Time, The Wedding, Pride and Prejudice, and one other (suggestions welcome))
7) Write at least one new story and finish one old one (And the award for most likely goal to be achieved goes to...)
8) Learn to play bass, drum set (I need people to leave me alone so I can practice)
9) Memorize Philippians (Actually, this one is more likely to get finished, as I have chapter one and most of chapter two already done :))
10) Make a short film (HA! Oh, sorry...)
11) Restart Blog and keep it (Yay!)
I don't know if I'll actually complete this list. I probably won't. #1 and 2 really need to be done, 6, 7, and 9 will probably happen. 11 is happening, or you wouldn't be reading this. Although, this will probably be the last time I update before I go on vacation next week. I might post something tomorrow, but I can't talk about tomorrow yet, because it would be just my luck if…well, I'll tell you tomorrow. *g*
Well, that about wraps up this rant, as it's late and I need to get up early for Tomorrow *g*.
Until next time,
~A&C
P.S. I was at the bookstore with Natalie the other day, and she was looking at PSAT or PSAE or PNAA (Please Not Another Acronym) test books, and I found out my vocabulary is not as good as I thought it was. So I'm trying new words. Paucity means scarcity, since I scarcely post.
P.P.S. The thing at the bottom there is the comments thing. I have no clue how it works. If anyone figures it out, let me know. Otherwise, just ignore it. I'm trying to make it work.
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Well, it's been quite a while since my last post. I considered completely abandoning this thing, but I kinda like it. And it took way to much time to get the colors just right; I have to use it.
So anyway, school's just finished, and I must say I've changed a bit since August. I wish I had kept up with this so I could actually see that change, but I have nonetheless. I can drive now :). But I think the most significant change has to do with God. I'm a lot more obsessed with him, and a lot less obsessed with other things. I found out, that being obsessed with God is a lot more fun than being obsessed with Star Wars, or Lord of the Rings. It's because God is real. He's always with me, and it's a lot of fun. What can I say? I'm in love!
I decided I want to get a lot done this summer. I don't really have time to be productive during the school year, so I can't really afford to be lazy. But first I have to get a job. I've applied at several places, but haven't gotten any interviews. I need the money for gas and car insurance. I really, really don't want to work at McDonalds....but Dairy Queen is hiring! *Cringe* I think this is why my brain struggles with the concept that school is over; I don't want to sit around and do nothing. Although, I probably will. I'd like to get up early and start doing things right away, but it probably won't happen. (I want Lois and Clark! Aah!) I really should try and exercise or something (ha) especially if I get the job at Krispy Kremes. Oy.
Well I'd better wrap this up; it's starting to get late, and I should go to bed. If anyone is reading this (you're a loser, but I love you) I put in a neat comments dealie. I would very much like to see if it works. *hint, hint, nudge nudge*
Until next time (hopefully soon),
~A&C
Oy.
I've been saying that a lot lately. It's something I say usually when I'm irritated or annoyed. Like once I sneezed about ten times in a row, I said "oy" after the first seven. I have to pull an inordinately heavy cart for band; I say "oy" when dragging it uphill.
School's started, and I've said "oy" many, many times. Let's just use today as an example:
We have a new school building, but unfortunately, the traffic is horrendous. We sat in a line up of cars for 10 minutes to go less than a mile. (Our town isn't huge, so it's not like we're used to big-city traffic.) The problem is a four-way stop at an intersection with two streets. They go like this: _l , so there really is no need to stop at all, because there's no oncoming traffic to stop for. (The other two streets are closed, and will stay that way until October)
I'm a sophomore. This year, it's a new requirement for sophomores to take aquatics.
The temperature has been in the upper 90's to 100's so, since 8 (I think) schools in our district don't have air conditioning, every body gets out of school early. We shorten our last three classes by twenty minutes to accommodate for that schedule. The bell was going nuts! First it was just four minutes off, and then it would ring every five minutes. We thought we'd been dismissed from seventh hour, only to hear an announcement telling us to go back for the remaining five minutes. The bell rang at least four times before eighth hour, and I think they turned it off after that. It was getting obnoxious. But, and this is another problem with our new school, the bell can hardly be heard from inside the classroom. There are speakers in there, but the sound only comes from the hallway. Isn't that interesting?
While I'm ranting about the new building, let me say something else. I'm taking Chemistry this year, and already my teacher has set a desk on fire (With Acetone, it was very cool) and she demonstrated how to use the fire shower, and the eye washing station. (There is a fire extinguisher, too, but she didn't want to show us that.) There are no fire alarms. That's nice, isn't it? We do have one of those sprinkler systems. The fun part about that is if there's a fire, we might have to make the flames a bit higher so the sprinkler's sensors are aware of it. There is a phone, to call 911, but it's right next to where any fires are most likely to happen. I like irony in books, but I'd like to keep it out of real situations.
On a funnier note, I'm taking journalism this year. I sit in front of James Kenobi (Not sure about spelling) and next to him is Dave Matthews. It made me laugh. Now, if my last name was Kenobi, I would be obligated to name my son Ben. I would just have to, there's no way around it. Or at least Luke, or something...but maybe his dad's name was Ben, and they didn't want a junior. Actually, his dad was probably born before Star Wars came out, so that may not be true. Maybe he has an older brother named Ben. Or maybe his parents don't like Star Wars at all. Now THAT's ironic.
Well, I have to wrap up this rant because I have tons of homework to do. (Ugh, Geometry...grr...)
Until next time,
~A&C
"I don't want to be perceived the way I am, I just want to be perceived the way I am."
Band Camp ended today, so we put on our first show for our friends and family. My mom and sisters couldn't be there because of V.B.S. (Vacation Bible School), and my friend Sarah was there too; another friend, Natalie, had to pack (she's going to Michigan tomorrow) leaving my dad to be the only one coming. I didn't really care if anyone came, just so long as I got a ride home. But my dad said he would come.
The show was supposed to start at seven-thirty. Parents started showing up at seven, while we were still practicing, but I didn't expect my dad to come until seven twenty or so. At seven fifteen, he wasn't there, but I was worried we were going to start early. By seven twenty five, we still hadn't started, but no sign of dad. I started to get mad, picturing him sitting at the computer, playing Diablo II, not realizing the time. We started playing at seven-thirty two. I tried to forget about my dad and concentrate on the music. Our show is called "The Rise and Fall of Rome," and consists of three songs; I have the first two basically memorized, but the third still needs work. Anyway, we finished, and my eyes scanned the crowd of parents, not seeing my dad amongst them. I felt hurt, offended that I wasn't important enough to him, for some reason. That a game he was playing was more important than making sure he was on time. (Though, this has happened to me before. The computer impairs your perception of time.) So I started packing up our stuff. I'm in the percussion pit, so we had quite a few instruments to put away. I started piling all our mallets into my arms and, not wanting to make two trips, I grabbed the triangles, the jingle bells (no joke), the finger cymbals, and the hammer. They had to go back into the school cafeteria (we had been on the football field). We were supposed to put our keyboards on the truck (which is really a semi) that was parked near the field. When I got back from putting the accessories away, the keyboards were gone, so I took some music stands to the band room. (I know this info seems pointless, but stick with me; I was in the building a lot, and never went to the truck)
Since my dad wasn't there, I asked my friend Jason (Senior; plays the trombone; had a crush on me last year) to give me a ride home. He's a bit of a crazy driver, but I made it home okay. My dad wasn't at home when I got there. At that point, I really didn't care if he had gone back to the school to look for me. He wasn't there when I wanted him to be, why should I be there for him? When I got inside the house I started to throw a fit. I was pretty angry. I threw my notebook on the floor, and my hat, and my bag, and I stomped around a bit. Then I started to cry. It wasn't fair! Why couldn't he keep his promises? Why couldn't he be there for me? God put his arms around me, and cried too. (This only made me cry more.) Then he whispered to me, "I'll always be there for you." And He told me to be still, and know that He is God.
At least I have one Dad who'll never let me down.
So I went to my room, and pouted for a bit, still feeling bad. The phone rang, and it was Natalie. While she rambled about Alias spoilers and an AU Lois and Clark fic, part of my brain was screaming at her to ask me how I was. I wanted her to realize that I was upset. I wanted her to listen as I poured out my heart and told her how I was feeling, how frustrated I was. It's not that I wasn't interested in what she was saying; on the contrary, I enjoy listening to her ramble and jump from topic to topic faster than a speeding bullet, but I had other things on my mind. So I laughed in the right spots, said all the appropriate "filler" words and she was none the wiser.
(Nat, if you're reading this, know that it's not your fault. I'm really good at that game. )
After we got off the phone, my dad came home. It was about fifteen minutes after I got back. I heard him come in and I went out to the living room, to hear his excuse. When he saw me, he was about as angry as I was.
"How did you get home?" he demanded.
Surprised, I stammered "I got a ride with Jason. You weren't there, so I got a ride."
"I was there!"
"I looked for you, I didn't see you!" Tears started to sting my eyes. "You weren't there."
"I WAS there, I saw you play!"
"Where were you? I looked for you, you weren't there." I was babbling, and repeating myself, but I couldn't believe it. He was *not* there.
"I was by the truck," he said indignantly. "You said you had to load everything up afterwards, so I figured I would see you over there. I saw all of you get in a little huddle and then after that you were gone."
Remember when I spent all that time inside. Oooh, I hate irony. Well, I love irony. I love to hate irony. Anyways...
"Why didn't you come find me? I had to take some stuff INSIDE too."
He did say something here, but I really don't remember what. I started to sulk off to my room at this point.
"You should have come and found me," I said over my shoulder. "I looked for you, and I didn't see you. I thought you weren't there so I got a ride."
I got to my room and started to cry again. Now, not only did I feel hurt, but I felt stupid. He had been there the whole time. I had rationalized, at the time, that even if he was in the crowd, he would come and find me. See if I needed help moving the Marimba or anything. Surely he would want to tell me what a good job he thought I did, even though I killed song three. Surely he would want to comment on the unusual costumes the pit has to wear this year. (We're the slaves of the Roman Empire) But no, he wanted to wait by the truck. So I spent a bunch of time being angry for no reason, right? Hmm, a thought popped into my mind, and I think it's intended to justify my anger: he was there, but he wasn't there *for* me. He didn't support me in the aforementioned ways.
Right now (surprise, surprise) he's sitting at the computer playing Diablo. Oy.
But I can't let this throw off my perspective. This is really an insignificant event. It's so little; I probably won't even remember it in a year. (Unless I come back and read this, that is) But that doesn't take away the hurt I feel, even though he was there. Even though I was angry, all that anger was really just my way of expressing how hurt I was.
In conclusion, no conclusion. Typical. I guess this situation was designed to teach me a lesson but I'm not entirely sure what it is. I guess that I know that I always have Jesus to hold me, and cry with me, but I already knew that. Oh well. The only thing I can do, is be still, and know who is God.
Until next time,
~A&C
P.S. This is so long! Well, I guess it makes up for the last one.
Whew! Band camp is soo exausting. Get this: I have to be there from 8:30 to 4 AND THEN come back from 6 to 9! That leaves me two hours every day that I'm not at band. Well, I guess I do get up at six, but that's besides the point.
Well, anyway, I'm really tired. I have to call my youth pastor, Matt, because I want to be on our senior high leadership team. (Because I'm in High School, and I'm not a freshman anymore, yay!)
Hmm, I guess this isn't really a rant, but I'd better wrap it up anyway. I have to eat and call Matt before 5:45.
Until next time,
~A&C
WOW!
Before I explain that, I want to say that I really ought to update more if I'm going to make posts like the last one. That's so depressing. I felt better in the morning...
Anyway, back to this past week.
WOW!
So I was at this thing called CIY (Christ in Youth) and God is so AWESOME!!!! He showed me a bunch of things this week, but there were three main things that I noticed: He showed me how to fall in love with Him, He told me to use the people he's put in my life, and that when I trust Him and wait for *His* timing not mine, everything I've been hoping for turns out so much better than I expected.
I have never been this in love. I mean, Jesus *died* for *me!* Me! He died so that he could listen to me ramble about nothing and hold me when I have days like the last post. It totally blows my mind. He's so incredible! I just can't explain how absolutely amazing it is to know God. I'm closer to Him than I've ever been before and the best part is, I've only just touched the surface. He promised me that He'd never let me be alone, and that my life is going to be a wonderful adventure. How cool is that?
Want to know something else that's cool? He totally answers prayers. I've been needing accountability (that's a big church word but all it really means is a friend that makes sure you don't fall away from God and prays for you and stuff) but I've never been able to really talk about it. Anyway, God gave me some amazing friends and we've decided to get together before church on Sundays (7:30, it's early, but we can do it), go through a Bible study and totally keep each other strong. I'm so excited. I squeal and giggle when I think about it. I don't think the other girls are as excited as I am, but they probably haven't been praying about it for as long. I was so happy I said I was "stoaked" which is something I've never said before. It was sweet; Brenda (who is my fishie-mommy away from home) gave me this really weird look. Anyway, I'm completely psyched about it. I just know God is going to use this to become the women he wants us to be. Like the women described in Proverbs 31. (Go look it up)
I can't believe how God is forming me and molding me to be more like Him. That excites me too. Maybe I'm just giddy from the trip (which I actually don't think is the case, because I didn't start getting excited until I realized what Jesus was up to) but I've been very happy lately. I'm hoping that even when I start to have bad days, I'll still have this joy, this feeling of elation. I feel free, because I've let Jesus have my whole life. He's taking care of it, which brings me to the last thing. He showed me that waiting pays off with the accountability thing, now He's asked me to let him have my future. He can't make it the best unless I give it to Him to change. He won't tell me what he's got in mind, but I know it's going to be better than anything I can think of. It was on Thursday morning that it initially occurred to me. I thought, at first, that He wanted me to be a minister or a missionary or something, but He was telling me something different. All he wanted me to do was open myself up to whatever he wanted me to do. You see, I want to be a director, and I was putting everything towards that goal. Now, Jesus never told me I couldn't do that, but He knew that if I continued to pursue that the way I had, I would start becoming deaf to His calling. I was doing what *I* wanted to do, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that my life is not about me. (And why should it be, anyway? Seriously, what have I done that I should live for me? Better to live for something greater than myself, that won't pass away like the things of this world, like I will someday.) So I told Jesus that He could lead, and I would follow. Now I feel so free! My life is in the hands that created everything! He said that He has amazing plans for me, and if I can't trust God, whom can I trust? And if God is for me, who do I have to be afraid of? Think about that. God is on my side. He's taking care of me. No one can do anything to me without His permission. Why He loves me, I'll never know, but He does. He really does.
So that's why I say, "I am not, but I know I Am."
Until next time,
~A&C
I'm bored and very restless. That isn't necessarily a good combination. My mood is very indecisive, rather like myself. I think it's the coffee, but maybe not. I'm discontented with my own life, and I want to be different but I don't. I think I have a phobia of change, even though it's something that I really need. For example: I'm bored, but I'm too lazy to do anything, but I don't like being lazy, but I'm too lazy to stop being lazy. See the need for change? Okay, so that made no sense but quite honestly, I don't care. I don't care about a lot of things, really. And sometimes I care too much about things that don't need caring about. There I go, not making sense again. *Sigh* I'm just so confused, that I don't know what I ought to care about, plus I'm lazy. Laziness and confusion are worse than boredom and restlessness.
I guess I'm lukewarm. Which, of course is bad. I'm this and that, here and there, blah blah blah. *Sigh* That's a pretty accurate description I suppose. I feel very blah. I keep going between how I feel, and how I should feel. I get the two confused to the point where, I'm not even sure I feel anymore. But I do. And I think far far too much. This is why I'm the most confused person in the world.
I've realized that I sound very bitter and cynical. I feel that way (I think) but that's not how I normally am. I feel different when I'm by myself than when I'm around other people. I know that makes me sound fake, but it's not, really. It's just that people distract me enough that I quit thinking so hard about myself. When I stop thinking so much, I'm not nearly as depressed. Not that I'm really depressed, just...Oh I don't know! I really, really don't! I'm just rambling about nothing, and it's not making me feel any better or worse or anything. I'm going to hope that this is just one of those stupid teenage phase thingies. Because this is just something that I don't understand, and I'm really sick of dealing with it.
The only consolation I have is that God is bigger than me and my problems. It would be nicer if I knew how to let Him handle it, but hey, you don't always get everything you want. I've heard illustrations about "handing your worries to God." Believe me, if I could put my worries in a box and mail it to God, I would have done that a long time ago. The trouble is, I think that's one of those every day things. I'm pretty sure that goes under "daily take up your cross" or something like that. How is that I can want to trust God with everything that I have, but can't somehow? It's not like I don't believe in Him. It's not like I think I can handle it myself. (Really, I'm not that stupid) In fact, I don't know what the problem is. I think I just have trouble trusting people. *Rolls eyes.* This probably has something to do with a deep psychological problem that involves the repression of awful memories from my early childhood. Or is it suppression? I can't remember the difference between the two. Oy.
I really think I could go on like this for a long time. But I'm really not getting anywhere, nor have I drawn any good conclusions. Well, except for the fact that I say really too much. I've said it eleven times already! Hmm, what are some synonyms for really? ..... That explains a lot. I could use 'certainly' or 'actually' or 'very' but those aren't always good substitutes. *Sigh* I sigh a lot too. I wonder if that's good or bad? I also phrase my sentences in the form of a question. That's my indecisiveness coming through.
This is long, and very pointless. Probably very uninteresting, too. But you know what? I'm not writing this to entertain you. I'm writing this because...well, okay, so I don't know exactly why I'm writing this. I've never been really good at keeping a diary of any sort. Never really saw the point, if you want to know the truth. (There I go with that really word again. That's getting really annoying. Ah! Very annoying, is what I meant! Very annoying.) So the point of this is pointless I guess. I make so much sense. It's no wonder I'm confused all the time. Seriously, half the time I just walk around confusing the heck out of myself.
I need to finish The Catcher in the Rye. It's affecting the way I talk. It's a really (ARG! VERY!) good book, but it's hard to read because of the way that it's written. It's also confusing to go between that and Charles Dickens. Oy. I'm going to have to find something else to read that doesn't give me a headache.
Okay, I'm done. This is over a page long, and terribly boring, I'm afraid. (Not that I care, though ;-)) I just need to shut up and go to bed. Not that sleeping will help, though. But that's another entry.
That more than wraps up this very (yes!) long rant.
Until next time (which could be anytime, considering my inconsistency),
~A&C
EDIT: Yay! It worked. Okay, I'm Siriusly (*tear*) done now.
This is a test of the emergency posting system. If this were an actual emergency, we would all be screaming and running around in circles. Yes, circles. Because, you know, that actually helps. (I watch too much T.V....)
EDIT: Okay, that's entirely unfair. Why did it post that and not the incredibly long rant that I wanted to post? Uh-oh, is there a limit on how long posts can be? If so, I may have a problem. I try not to restrict myself when I rant (except for when I'm around other people that aren't really my close friends. I only scare my best buds and complete strangers) which is why I have this little blog anyway. Hmm.. I'll try it again, before this gets to be a full fleged rant.
Well, now my blog finally looks exactly how I want it to. I suppose now that the typical I'm-still-figuring-this-out posts are out of the way, it may be a good idea to say a few things about myself. But you know what? I don't feel like it. I'm a writer, and I know enough to show not tell.
Currently I'm trying to decipher my own feelings. I'm definitely tired. I'm also slightly apprehensive, because in just a few hours, I'll be going on a mission to the Dominican Republic. I'm not really nervous or scared; I've been to Mexico on a similar trip, but I've heard different thing about DR, and it sounds very unlike Mexico. Plus, I'm not entirely sure what we'll be doing down there. In Mexico, the mission was clear: build a house for a family that has none. But this time around, I have choices to make about what I'll be doing, which is bad, because I'm horrible at decision making. That's mostly because I'm overly analytical and try to figure out the best choice instead of going with my feelings.
Only two of my friends are going on this trip with me, and they're two that I really only see at church on sundays, and sometimes Wednesdays. Well, hopefully this will be a good time to get to know Megan and Katie better.
Now I have to wrap this up. My mom's going to come in here in a minute and yell at me for not getting ready.
Until next week,
~A&C
AAARRRRRGGGGG!!!!!!
I simply cannot understand why, when I tell it < font: 3399FF > (which is the light blue color off to the right there) it insists on making it black! No sense at all. The preview shows the font being all the right colors and sizes, but does it publish? Noooo. No, no, that would make my life entirely too simple.
I just hope that a new post will somehow make the font work...
Well, that wraps up this rant.
Until next time,
~A&C
Well, I really didn't want to post twice in the same day, but I'm quite frustrated at Blogger at the moment. I like the layout right now, however, I would very much like to change the color scheme! They say they want me to be able to exercise my creativity and have fun, but with an entire lack of instruction on how to do so! So far I have been able to change the links to any color that I choose, but as for the rest of the text, I am at a loss. Not to mention the background. Now, I know a fair bit of HTML, and I know how to change these things using it. Blogger Help (which wasn't very helpful, unsurprisingly) insists that I can insert HTML if I want to, but I have yet to do this.
*Sigh* I suppose I should give Blogger a break. They are in the process of moving everything, which, as I understand, if very difficult and probably frustrating. And, I must remember a very good motto: Never complain about something that's free.
Well, that wraps up today's second rant.
Until next time,
~A&C
Well, I was cleaning out my Inbox, and lo and behold. I have a forgotten blog. With no meaningful posts in it to boot. But, I rather like the idea of having a blog, so I created a new one (this was necessary as my other rant blog [which has since been deleted] was seemingly lost, or taken over by aliens, I'm not sure which). I suppose I won't abandon this one, that is, if I remind myself to post in it. The fact that I'm highly inconsitsent in such matters is the exact reason that I have a blog, and not a LiveJournal. One costs money, the other does not. But this is perfect for me.
It's a rather interesting thing to think about, that I'm either talking to no one, or someone. I figure that as this is a rather boring blog, with no good posts, no one would want to read it, so I could really say anything, and it would be like talking to air. On the other hand, I do believe that anyone has access to this blog, so thousands of people could be reading this right now. (Unlikely, however, entirely possible.) I have absolutlely no idea what the point was behind that analysis.
Well, I'm still trying to figure out exactly how Blogger works, (spoken like a true Newbie) but I'm figuring it out. Next I need a good layout. It's amazing how much you change. When I got this, I couldn't care less about layout. I'm still not very good at it, but now, at least, I understand the importance of it.
Well, that wraps up today's rant.
Until next time,
~A&C
As I quite enjoy ranting, and do it often, it is highly likely that many rants may be found here. Such rants usually make little sense, and cover a wide variety of subjects. Feel free to watch, it could get scary. If you would like to be able join in on the ranting, e-mail me with the link below and I'll invite you. I like to get comments.
I am a student of the Bible, seeking to pray with all my heart and mind.
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