I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING

Before we get into this: a couple of things.

1. SOMETHING IS HAPPENING TOMORROWWWWWW.......#WEARELOUDER AND IZZA GON BE EPIIIC.
2. Because I am going through some major life changes...you know, COLLEGE and MOVING and LIFE WHAAT, I don't know how much I will be able to post on this blog. I'm crying about that, seriously. I am addicted to blogging. So for the new chapter, I'm going to do it as much as I can, but I make no promises on how often. :( *sobs inconsolably*
3. In the works but still: it's time for a revamp. This blog - I love the look, the vibe, etc., but sometimes old parts of life need new coats of paint. (FYI I almost typed "paint" as "pain" like, nooOOO lets keep pain to a minimum please lol.) I'm thinking peachy colors and cute goldfish. Either that or pastel greens and cacti....THOUGHTS? (Seriously please comment. I love you're comments. They show up in my inbox and I'm like, everyone loves me this is great.)

OKAY I'm done --- TO THE POST.

__________________________________________________________________________


Let's face it:

I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING.

HA.

I mean, I'm moving to a completely different town in seven days.

I'm going to be learning a trade that, YES I want to be in, but I have NO experience with whatsoever. (It would have been beneficial to have seen a birth and know that I can actually do what I'm doing.)

After three months, I'm moving to YET ANOTHER completely different town that I have never been to AND I'M LIVING THERE FOR A YEAR. (Although this one, how bad can it be, I'm only 50 miles from the ocean. #WIN)

Back to the point EXCUSE ME BUT WHEN DID MY LIFE BECOME AN EXPERIMENT IN HOW MUCH STRESS I'M ABLE TO HANDLE.

I mean come on SADDJLKDFFIOEPUIOUSE K K K K K I'M FINE I SWEAR BUT WHYYYYYYYY.

I'm freaking out. My mom is freaking out. My sisters and dad are freaking out (they don't show it. Nice one, guys). My dog is freaking out (she doesn't know details but she's smart. She's catching on.) My best friend would be freaking out but she has her own worries. I think the worship team is freaking out, but to be honest, in the year and a half that I've played with them I still haven't figured out when they're joking or not.

The stress level is about HERE.

Ya know?

And within this washing machine of emotion and chaos and fingernails-digging-into-the-walls-so-as-to-slow-my-departure....I have incredible peace. I'm doing what God wants me to do. Everything's cool. (Which is super weird because I go from lghjlsdlsdlksGRAAAAARG to oh hey cool bro in about 8.9 seconds. I am THE emotional roller coaster.)

So what I have another 150 meals to make before I leave. So what I don't have housing for when I move in January. So what I don't even know if I'll like midwifery. So what I'm essentially getting up and walking out the door of my previous life and rebuilding it in an unknown location with unknown materials. SO WHAT.

It's ok. It's ok.

Life is an adventure. And I'm realizing more and more what exactly it's about:

Not finding true love. (that's simply a really awesome bonus)
Not being the best person.

Not being happy.

Life isn't a race.
Or a game.
Or a punishment.
Or a reward.
Or something that we do over and over and over
and have absolutely no control over.

We are ALIVE. We are living and breathing and we get to create our world and yeah, usually it's an experiment and a blank page and we have to face this every. single. day. But SO WHAAAAAT.

Do you know how amazing that is?

Like, ok I believe I believe that there is an optimal version of our life that God has given us an opportunity to find.

AM I THE ONLY ONE EXCITED ABOUT THIS?????

Let me say it another way:

College is not cheap. Even weird college like I'm going to. And yet somehow God has provided every step of the way. He gave me this really awesome job where I was able to sack away 3/4 of my paycheck every month. He made that money multiply. He gave me extra opportunities to house sit and clean and play piano and get paid for it. And I was freaking out about how I was going to make the money to pay for my second semester (first semester $$ came together pretty well) and now I'm looking at my account and guess what? I'M ALREADY HALF WAY THERE.

There's no way I did that.

He did.

I just, like, GAAAAAAHHH
GOD IS SO GOOD.
YA KNOW.
HE LOVES ME AND
HE'S GUIDING ME
AND I JUST CAN'T.

Like, if it's one thing God has shown me through this is that I am so not worthy, and yet I'm his. I'm his kid and he's going "do you trust me to jump into this? I promise that I will catch you and it will be beautiful".

I am overwhelmed. I am freaked out. I am stressed. I am excited. I am nervous. I am listening to sappy soundtrack music that makes me cry. I am terrified. GO READ ISAIAH 40. (Especially verses 11 and 31.)

*MIND. BLOWN.*

End of conversation.

So yeah - I guess what I'm trying to say in this caps-lock-emphasized, loooooong, I-have-no-idea-what-I'm-doing post....is that He has got you so much more than you realize. And we're talking about the star-breather, breath-giver, pathway-maker, all-knowing, bigger-than-the-universe, ever-present-ever-loving GOD that has got everything. under. control.

So I'm freaking out. And I don't have any idea what I'm doing. And that is totally, completely, underestimatedly and wonderfully good, because it is in those moments that I have no doubt that God is in control of my life, and that is WAAAAAAYYY better than me being in control of my life.

I'm actually glad that I have no idea what I'm doing. Weird. Awesome.

NOTE TO SELF: twelve

when the cat scares you half to death

i did this gem of a post a while ago. i'd rather forgotten about it.
but then the this other thing happened (see below) and i was reminded of said post (really though, i didn't lock myself out of my caddi...) mostly because  I thought that my world was going to fall apart due to a situation was completely and 100% out of my control.

i was house sitting for these people that we've known for basically forever. their daughter was my first real friend. i know them, they know me, i've been to sleepovers at their house and know their animals and really house sitting shouldn't be a big deal, right?

WRONG. i realized after the first two nights that i had always stayed there when everybody else was there. the house had always had people in it other than me. i've tried everything - i've tried sleeping with the dogs in the same room, i've tried the exhaustion method (staying awake until you're so tired you could fall asleep anywhere), I've tried watching funny videos and listening to music right before I go to sleep, i've tried walking through the house every time I hear a creak. And let me tell you - there were so. many. creaks.  The 10-pound dog could walk down the hallway and it sounded like a bunch of 300-pound assassins playing football tag. The perpetual thought that maybe I wasn't the only one in the house was making me a little paranoid. 

Back to the point though: nothing helped. No matter, I thought, I'm almost done with this job anyway. It'll be fine!

Oh, the hilarity.

I was woken out of a sound sleep to the two dogs wanting fed and let out - as usual. It's early morning, so I fulfill the requirements and catapult myself back into bed. Laying there, half of my brain is still asleep, half is sprinting through the ideas of today and what it will look like. 

And then the yelling starts. I kid you not: it sound like a small child who's arm had gotten chopped off. A small child yelling help. Over and over and then BAM - the sound gets super loud. that three year old was standing in the kitchen. Help, help, help, help...in a solidly round voice with minimal pronunciation.

I grab my phone (honestly I'm wishing for something much larger and heavier that I can use to protect myself with but there really isn't anything in the bedroom that fits the description and I don't want to lug the lamp through the house because that is the farthest thing from subtle that there is). ANYWAY - the phone, and I'm pressing send because Mom was the last person I called. I start to make my way down the hallway towards the noise. Help. I tell myself to be prepared for anything (and anything at this point in my mind looks like child with blood everywhere and a missing arm) (too much NCIS, dang it). Help. The phone line buzzes in my ear. Help.

"Sam? Good Morning!" Mom's cheery voice goes up that the end, and I realize that I've either woken her or she's still in bed.

If you hadn't caught on by now, I AM TOTALLY FREAKED OUT. Yes, I'm still pretty groggy. Yes, I'm normally a really logical person. Yes, this situation SHOULDN'T BE FREAKING ME OUT BUT DANG IT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO REACT WITH ANY OF THIS. Why do i want to grab something to protect myself? shouldn't i be grabbing helpful items if the sound really is a wounded person?

And then part of my mind is going over the idea that if it is a kid that's hurt, what am I gonna do about it and are we both going to end up mentally traumatized from this? 

And then I'm thinking that I really hate the idea that I am going to try to be a midwife, but this whole scenario has got me jittery. I'm going to have to deal with probably a lot worse than this.

All this is racing through my brain while I'm trying to figure out how to make words to greet my mother.

The old orange cat walks around the corner, yowling the same sound that sounded so much like a wounded child.

"HEY. HEY MOM. SORRY - SORRY I DIDN'T MEANT TO - EVERYTHING'S FINE, MUM, I'M OKAY, EVERYTHINGS FINE SORRY - SORRY I JUST THOUGHT THAT UM, I'M OKAY YEAH EVERYTHINGS GOOD ITS JUST THE CAT."

"What?" My mom sounds utterly confused.  

"Ahhhhhh....The cat was making a really freaky noise but I didn't realize it was the cat until I called you. No worries!" I look down and my entire body is shaking. Like, uncontrollable, earthquake-is-happening, haven't-eaten-anything-in-17-hours shaking. I'm that scared.

And by now my mom has caught on that something is not quite right. So I tell her the whole ordeal and the cat keeps yowling and there's a part of me that wants to figure out all those ways to skin a cat because this one almost gave me a heart attack. 

___

moral of this little tale: (or tail...cat's tail...ok i need help.)

on little sleep, an attempt at a youthful heart attack, and kind of a second look on where I'm at emotionally (i.e., little things get me worked up), this idea popped into my head:

I'm an introvert. I'm fairly to the point. I don't like all the small talk, the aimless chatter. I try to make things comfortable for people but I would so much rather everyone just not care and do whatever they like. If someone has a problem they can leave. 

That makes me sound pretty cynical? Pretty closed off? Harsh? I'm a jerk, right? 

WRONG. I'm not all of those things together. I can be those. Sometimes I'm even really good at those. But in reality...when I thought that there was a bleeding infant in the house, i was freaking out because i didn't want them to die. I wanted them to be safe and healthy and, well...alive. I care. Just because i have the capability of being a mean person doesn't mean that i don't have the ability to be nice and caring. just because someone comes across as a little cold-hearted doesn't mean that's all the deeper their personality goes. usually they just have a wall up, or are preoccupied or have had a different upbringing from you.

maybe they're just having a bad day.

so before you judge - take a minute: how are they really coming across? do you think that their actions and words are based not out of a hatred for you, but maybe on their circumstances and life?

don't treat someone differently or wrongly just because they're not like you.

(wow. i'm starting to sound like Pocohontas.....i would totally be okay with that. i want her skin color.)

Next time you hear a yowling cat, think about this story, and think about how you are interpreting other people.

NOTE TO SELF: the sticky notes series

i am feeling SO overwhelmed.

i love to blog. really really really love to blog. i would do this all day every day if i could make a living off it.

unfortunately i can't.

so - i'm cutting down. you may have noticed already that i'm not posting as much as i have been. (october was kind of a post overload...so aside from that.) i want my blogging to be real - not just something i pump out every once in a while because i feel like i should keep this up.

i want to post the highlights. the stuff that sticks.
old stuff that i love, new things i think are awesome.

things i would change, things i love and hate at the same time.

i would love to have red hair.
i fail at bible time but its a new years resolution to remedy that.
as much as it tries to kill me, i want to start running.
and i want to look at the good things.
i want to learn the little things and remember them.

i therefore introduce to you:

i will be doing two series at the same time. Note to Self as they come, and then If Places Were People every other week.

Note to Self  will be the little lessons that i learn that i don't want to forget. these lessons are actually written in my horrid handwriting on my bedroom walls, but i want to share them with you.

because somedays we just need little sticky notes that say it's gonna be okay.

I may not post as much. but hopefully these posts will be less of me blabbering and more of
look what i learned today! what do you think? 

plus - you know - these are probably gonna be on canva things so AWESOMENESS.

stay tuned, lovelies.

DAY 25: this week i did absolutely nothing exciting

i worked. i played a little piano. i started reading a new book that i actually bought. (i never buy books. i WANT to buy books. but my budget is cruel and unrelenting and focused towards more expensive goals...like travelling.) and i started making some more journals. (more on that later.)

i baked some pumpkin and looked up a midwifery school. i pondered whether to post my forceful and probably-not-politically-correct post on feminism. i watched an entire season of The Big Bang Theory which is my guilty pleasure show. and i laugh way too hard at it.

i made sure that every time i walked down the sidewalk i kicked the leaves and enjoyed their crunching. i gaped at the frost-glazed trees and the fog bank that is usually much larger this time of year, but had just missed our house. i was disappointed at this.

i looked up Albanian food. it looks lovely. lots of flaky doughs and meat and cabbagey fillings and BAKLAVA. (i have to figure out how to do this gluten free) so that stuff is on the list.

i made sorbet (strawberry and mango) which was really good. oh, and meatloaf.

but this week, other than these things, has been rather quiet. that quietness that comes, not before the storm, but three weeks later when nothing has happened for a while, and you start to think that nothing will ever happen again. its that quiet when you've been walking for a long time and haven't really gotten anywhere. anywhere remarkable, that is. its that quiet right in the middle of everything that makes you tired enough to just lay down and take a nap. its the kind of quiet that comes from everyone watching you to see if you will go through the door. the problem is...do you even see it? its right in front of you. you've gotten somewhere, but you don't see it. you just need to overcome that one last obstacle. go through the door.

Day 11: RANT: what if we were Jesus-oriented

ours is a performance oriented world.

doing your best is no longer the standard that you live up to.
it used to be. God is happy with our best.
if we give him everything
if we let him work through us
but for everyone else, it isn't enough.
the new standard is everyone else's view of your best, which is labeled "perfect"
in a scrawling, ridiculous, unreal script.


When we step onto the stage of life,
the lights blind us.
we stagger, dazed, confused, disoriented.
until someone pulls the rug out from under us.
and then we know exactly what happened.
our best - our dazed, disoriented best -
that trying in a tough situation
wasn't good enough.
and someone said so.


it doesn't matter that they don't know what it feels like to be you.
they said it. and it hurt.
like stubbing your toe, or hitting your funny bone.
enough to bring tears to your eyes and attempt to curl into the fetal position.
but not enough to kill you.


They say.
its not good enough.
you're not good enough.
work harder.
do better.
because otherwise we will throw you to the crowd
and who knows what they'll do to you...

You wonder why you are even on that stage.
you wonder why you're there.
who put you there.
there's a faint memory of wanting to be on the stage
of wanting to please.
but now it just doesn't seem to matter
it's pointless to try to please someone who can't be pleased.
they'll only make fun of you
as they rip the rug out
once again
and laugh as you fall flat.

So why try?
because suddenly
as you're laying on the floor with a sore bum and
a sore pride
you wonder why their opinion matters
why you ever used their measurement, their standard
in the first place.


We weren't made to be successful.
We were meant to be faithful.
We fail at it; we are faithless
and yet we serve a faithful God
who's standards never change.
who never changes.
who does not judge performances
because they will never be perfect.

our value to him is not what we can do
but the fact that we are us
and nothing can really change that.
the fact that we are a work in progress
a blob of clay
that will be put through formation,
burning heat in the kiln,
drowning in glaze,
and then burnt again.
sometimes we are even shattered and then pieced together again.
but that is what makes us beautiful
we are art.
we are ever changing,
when he is not.
we are us
and he is him.
can we be Jesus-oriented,
rather than performance-oriented,
focusing on the journey rather than the applause?
we serve a God who loves us
because we are messed up.
not because we are perfect.
Why can our value not come from God?
that the value is I am a work in progress.
I'm not perfect.
But I'm better than I was yesterday
and I'll be even better tomorrow.
Why can our value not be based on whether we nailed it
or not.
but on the fact that it's been worse.
why can we not be valuable because we are us?
Why can our value not be because Jesus was nailed?
because our ledger no longer runs red.
because it is as clean as a new driving record.
a blank cd
an empty wall
or a white canvas.
Why can our value be the fact that we have jesus
tattooed across our heart.
not the fact that we fail to have perfect
tattooed on our foreheads?

It seems this is the struggle of our generation.

forever looking to others to define us.
what do you think of me? my writing, my room,
my weird art projects, my future, my strange taste of music, my *insert whatever here*.
we care about what other people think.
But is that right?
what if unimportant opinions are being applied?


what if we applied the opinion that mattered.
the one that shaped us into our very literal best on the standard that mattered.
not the one that didn't but was used anyways.
what if we used correct
rather than incorrect.
and left the rug, the stage
the facial tattoos that were once so critical
behind.
because they didn't matter.
and we were jesus-oriented
rather than performance-oriented.
what if.

Day 10: stayin cozy (with gifs. YAY.)

WELL THIS IS GOING TO BE THE EASIEST BLOG POST EVER.

HOW TO STAY COZY IN AUTUMN:

Step 1: buy internet data.

Step 2: never get out of bed.

Step 3: surf Pinterest and Facebook and blogs ALL DAY LONG. 

And that’s it.

The only problem with this is this tiny little thing called finances. In order to have successful finances, you have to have a job. Which requires getting out of bed. (unless I missed something. If you know a way around this little roadblock LET ME KNOW.) because my life is basically me doing things but in my head i'm going:

For the first 7 months of my job i tried to figure out how to dress appropriately. (Qualifications include temperature of clothing, applicability to the season of the year, and is-this-nice-enough-to-wear-there.) AND I FAILED MISERABLY for the first 7 months. It was awesome. At this point though, i'm barely keeping myself warm and cozy, so i don't know how my advice will help. you're probably just here for the amazing gifs. 

So here’s what I do, because I have a job and, unfortunately, no internet connection at my house:

STEP 1: Dress as cozily as possible. (Guys, I don’t know how you do this. I am not a guy thus I don’t know a) how you dress and b) if you ever get cold because you didn’t dress warm enough. I’m assuming you don’t have issues with this because you were all built with those blasted internal furnaces that God forgot to put into girls. *pointed look at God*.)

So girls, listen up:  

Leggings, flannel-lined pants (#heaven), and warm skirts with leggings are your best bet. Then, layer your tops: tank-top under a t-shirt or long-sleeve under a sweater and/or  a scarf. Then, warm socks and boots, or just regular shoes if you’re feeling brave enough to conquer that terrible condition known as ice toes. Next: DON’T FORGET THE COAT. Get something warm. As much as I hate long coats, they really are lovely in the midst of a short yet frozen walk downtown. (I believe my words were “MY LEGS ARE ICE LEGS.” …or something along those lines…)

STEP 2: DRINK WARM LIQUIDS. Yes, you will have to pee. But tea is lovely, as are toilets. Can’t have one without the other.

Also coffee is great, although you will suffer the consequences of addiction and HYPERNESS. NOT GOOD. Sometimes even hot water with a little stevia extract is nice, or lemon and honey tea. OR whatever other lovely liquid you’ve conjured up. (I love new ideas so let me in on your secrets.)

These are what I do, all autumn, and all winter. My sister thinks I’m crazy because I don’t do Step 3 like, EVER.  But let’s be honest: The cold never bothered me anyway. 

(Except for days when I didn’t get enough sleep. Then it bothers me more than an itch I can’t reach.) (And I can reach most of my itches.)(So that says a lot.)

STEP 3: TURN UP THE DANG HEATER. Sometimes that’s all you can do to keep the cold monsters at bay. My sister’s room usually feels like a sauna in the chilly early morning hours because someone decided to put wall heaters in our rooms. Lexy uses hers like the rapture might happen and goodness we want to get our use out of these before then, now don’t we?

(this is how lexy looks at the heater whenever i turn it off.)

But really. The best course of action is to stay in bed under a pile of blankets and hope no one notices you. (Maybe you’ll be able to avoid the job police.) (Let me know the success rate on this. I’m considering doing it myself.) 

(seriously sometimes i nope so hard i turn into this octopus.)

STAY WARM, PEOPLE. 

And offer tips. I love it when people give me new ideas of how to not freeze. 

hoping, across the street (blogtober: day 7)

I'M IN DENIAL.
i hate clothing, basically. 
day 7 of blogtober is OOTD (outfit of the day) 
PROBLEM. but i'm a rebel. (problem solved.)
instead of looking at what i'm wearing, we're gonna talk about how people look at outsides appearances, instead of the inside worth. 
and whaddya know. it's a poem, too... BONUS!





i work downtown.

sometimes i have to walk down the street to run errands.

sometimes i run across the street.

a car stops.

i sprint so that i don't get in the way.

my braid flies over my shoulder

and there's a grin

where the wind whips my face

for just one second.

one second,

and i hope.

i hope that the people in the car don't see

a woman hurrying

across the street.

a well dressed lady

with a straight back

and perfect smile

and good communication skills

and "PLEASANT" stamped all over her

like a billboard ad.

i desperately hope that they don't see that.

i hope they see two braids instead of one.

bare feet instead of heeled boots.

comfy jeans and a dirty tanktop,

rather than the skirt-and-blouse look

that i loathe.

not makeup, but

the tan,

freckled

face of someone

who never grew up.

who never meant to grow up.

i hope they see not just another woman hurrying

across the street.

i hope, i desperately wish

that they see

me.

just me.

the little girl in woman's clothing.

    

BLOGTOBER - T-minus 5, 4, 3...

I always say "oh, yeah...i'm gonna blog more."
WHATEV.
BECAUSE I ALREADY MISSED THE FIRST FIVE DAYS OF BLOGTOBER.
WHICH MEANS I FAIL AT BLOG.

but like i said - WHATEV.

i'll do it anyway.

DAY ONE: October Goals.

() take pictures of the leaves (i've already started and i don't intend to stop)
() finish my TBR list
() write more in my book, because its all stuck in my head and it needs to get out onto paper BEFORE IT DRIVES ME NUTSO.
() make pie dough and bread with my older sister
() hang out with my younger sister and maybe make music. but basically hang out.
() get more christmas shopping done. (yes. i have already started.)

DAY TWO: Fall Essentials.

~ red, orange, and yellow leaves. (more on that later. we had a lovely time.)
~ scarves and leggings
~ train trips across the country to visit freinds. (i didn't know this was an essential either. BUT IT IS.)
~ apple cider. and apple pie. and basically anything APPLE.
~ BOOKS. DUH and aviators.

DAY THREE: October To-Be-Read.
(*whispers* oh my gosh who created this tag...they are the best. i need them.)

LET ME SHOW YOU MY LIFE:

() these. because i've only actually read 3, 6, 7, and 8. so i have a lot left.
() and the rest of the Ranger's Apprentice series (11 & 12) because HELLO FLANAGAN WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US YOU WEREN'T DONE.
() Lion Heart by A.C. Gaughen
() Where the Moon Isn't by Nathan Filer
() Still Writing by Dani Shapiro (this has been half-read for over a year now. i need to put this book out of its misery.)
() Spark by Evan Angler (this series kind of went downhill for me, but i still want to see how it ends.)
() Fairest by Marissa Meyer (CANNOT. WAIT. FOR WINTER. which is the next book in the series.) (seriously, the suspense is killing me.)
() The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater

DAY FOUR: This Week I...

AM GOING ON A TRAIN TRIP. YAAAAAYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!
It's gonna be a quick trip, but HEY it's something new and we get to see friends that we haven't seen in over a year so NO DUH ITS GONNA BE AMAZING. I will take 7.68 gazillion pictures for you. plus, like, TRAINS PEOPLE. I'm going to feel like one of the Pevensie children and probably talk in an British accent and wish i was dressed up like someone off Downton Abbey. BECAUSE - TRAINS.

DAY 5: 5 Tips I Would Give to a New Blogger

1. KEEP WRITING. Because if you don't write, then its kind of hard to have a blog. You don't always have to post it. But write it down. It makes the creative juices happy.
2. Read. Read books. Read other blogs. Read the classifieds in the newspaper if that's all you have on hand. READ. because reading means life, and new ideas, and FUEL for the fire.
3. Don't push yourself too hard. Only post the stuff you actually like, when it feels right.
4. Create your voice on the page. We all have ways that we talk in real life; find what you sound like when your thoughts are in paper and ink. (or, pixels and light if we're talking about computer screens.)
5. What needs to be said? Say it. What needs to be photographed and documented? Post it. What needs to be seen? Show it. We are the up-close-and-personal connection from life to internet. We provide the stories that are everyday. Not to mention the nifty little DIY pages and how-to's. You don't HAVE to have a strict blog for a certain genre. I mean, if you're obsessed about something, then go for it. but then there's me, and i have several obsessions and one of them is poetry and another is photography and then there's reading and lovely british television that sucks me in and doesn't let me go. SO WHAT THE HECK LETS WRITE ABOUT WHATEVER WE WANT. Be you. Its your blog...you can do what you want with it!

YOU SHOULD TOTALLY DO THIS CHALLENGE. HERE. DO IT.
and tell me about your first five days of October. Isn't fall lovely?

I took the pic. My sister posed. Isn't she lovely? :)

the updated plan

It's okay.

Don't freak out.

It's not the end of the world....it's just the end of the plan. 

*hysterical screaming and panicking in the background*

Yep. This is your preview of me, in theatres Fall 2015.

Because I have NO PLAN.

AT ALL.

And it's scary.

It's weird, I know, because I have had a plan since before I graduated high school last year. Take some college classes for a year, play piano for the Playhouse, go to work.

Pretty good plan.

Unfortunately, I didn't get any farther than that. So here I am, Summer 2015, with absolutely no sense of direction after these warm months end.

So I spun around in a circle with my eyes closed and pointed to the first spot I decided on, without looking. (I love solving problems like this. They are so simple...)

The plan is....NOT HAVING A PLAN. (I like it: simple, and easy to remember.)

Here's the thing: It's not that I couldn't have a plan. I could easily sign up for college classes, try out for the Pride and Prejudice play, say yes to doing a million little things...

OR.

Just rest. and be creative. and think. and be ME because while I've grown spiritually and mentally these past six months, I haven't really got the chance to explore just how far I've grown.

I can get in shape, and do my photography, and spend time with the people that I really want to spend time with. and work (because as much as I hate my job, I love my job) and do more bible studies (I LOVE bible studies) and just expand within being me with God and myself and other people and my life.

It's okay to not have a plan. Sometimes that's God's way of telling us that we need to slow down. Sometimes we just need a month or six to rest in him and explore a little more of who we have become through this life. Sometimes the reason he's having us do something is because we aren't ready for it, but he is. He wants us to wait in him and learn patience. (Apparently, it's a virtue.) He wants us to discover how to be content when we aren't on the insane heart-stopping spiral of this roller coaster ride that we call life.

It's time to pause. It's time to be okay with not having a plan, and just figure it out as we go.

And it's going to be harder than it looks. But it's also going to be worth it.

10 things to know before you move anywhere...even just across the hall

so, i'm not MOVING moving, just kind of reaaranging, and my sister is moving from one bedroom to the other...but i've learned a lot about this whole relocation thing. so i thought i'd share. :D

1. get a Dad. or any random strong person will work because BASICALLY they are superman. and they can lift the heavy things. girls, this applies to you more than it applies to guys. because they were blessed with muscles and we were blessed with smaller muscles. so they get to do the heavy lifting...lucky them. ;)

2. get a dolly. not a baby doll. a dolly. like, the thing with wheels that you can put stuff on and it makes it really easy to move.

3. get the handy-dandy MOVING FEET. because those things save spinal columns and back muscles. seriously.

4. get rid of the things that you don't like, don't use, and aren't sentimental. you'll be surprised at how much JUNK you have.

5. if you have the opportunity, redecorate. guaranteed, there is something that you hate about your room. for me, it's wall color. (think cardboard box...yep, that's the shade.) so, repaint, or redecorate, or WHATEVER. make it your space.

6. split the space. i know that if you're like me, having your own room was THE THING in 8th grade. and it's fine to have your own room. but if you are renting your own apartment, and there's an extra bedroom, find someone to rent the space out with you. currently, i'm sharing my apartment (use your imagination with that term) with my sister, and we are splitting the rent cost.

7. don't have, do without. *ahem* as in, don't add to that junk pile you're trying to get rid of.

8. don't expect everything to get worked out in the first 24 hours. it's been a week since we started the "move" and everything is still looking like a mess and lexy and i are mostly living upstairs still. its gonna be a little bit before we get things ironed out.

9. CLEAN. people, how often do you vacuum under your dresser? under your bed? in your closet? do it now, while furniture is being moved. vacuum several times, dust, clean the windows (i don't know about you but i NEVER clean my windows) and get all that gross stuff out of the way before you start moving in. also, just as courtesy to whoever is going into the space you just moved out of, clean that space too. it'll make your landlords happy.

10. take it easy! have fun! i used to get super stressed about moving, or change in general, but its really a lot more fun to laugh and have a good time instead. if something goes wrong, laugh about it! if something goes right, celebrate!

one final note: don't break anything. LOL. (you're totally jinxed now...)

happy moving! :D

Source

nos-tal-gia:

/ a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations /

a reflection: it's not the tree, but it's not the water either. 

I love this word: nostalgia. It really is one of my favorites. Maybe its because I identify with it. I'm always wishing I could go back and change the way things were. Thus this weird thing that I hesitate to call a poem, but it's not prose either. It's halfway between, wanting to be one or the other, but it can't. Like nostalgia. We want to either completely know a thing or not know it at all. But we are stuck between.

nostalgia

It's odd when you meet
someone you never really knew.
They were always there
and you knew their name,
but you never talked to them
never hung out
never invested.
Because they were "different" from you.


Then, one day, after you grow up
and have to act decent to people,
and stop avoiding everyone who isn't one of your "friends"
you run into that person you never knew
and they say hi.
You say hi back.
And then you find that you get along
fabulously.
You are not as "different" as you thought.
Rather, you are similar.
You laugh and talk and joke and avoid those people that neither of you like
together.


Sadly, because you are both "grown up" now
you end up leaving the company
of new-found friendship,
with no plan to return,
because you both have friends
and jobs
and school
and life in general just gets in the way.
You know you will not see them again.
Not for a while.
Not for another undetermined amount of time.


And when you do see them again
they will probably be married
with two and a half kids
and a dog named Jack.
Part of you aches, wondering,
what would have happened? if both of you
had stopped
and got to know one another
YEARS ago when you were kids.


Because, as they leave,
as they walk away
and you turn to go as well,
you realize that you go great together.
that you compliment one another.
And have a whole lot more in common
than you realized at first
when you were still trying to avoid
that person
that you knew
but had never met.

stop and look

I was thinking about how when my family is on vacation, or visiting friends that we don't see often, or doing something unusual, we tend to slow down. Little things are funnier, we do stupid stuff and get a kick out of it...we SLOW DOWN.

And then we get back from the vacation and everyone gets back into their bazillion-mile-an-hour routine.
We start creating invalid excuses, such as "I'm too busy", "I will finish this first", or "I'm too tired".

The thing is, we have to stop and look. If we don't we miss the little things.

For example: my older sister was 12 weeks pregnant with her second baby, had sever morning sickness, her 20-month-old baby girl loves to yank chains, and her lab-cross puppy loves to chew.

My older sister was craving bagels.

I had bagels.

I could have said "I need to go home and do homework, practice piano, do laundry, read the passage for Bible Study tonight, blah, blah, blah..." 
But when I texted her telling her of the bagels, and she got excited, which never happens when she isn't feeling good, what could I do?
So off to big sister's I went. Later, she told me that my niece was running around the house yelling "Nam! Nam!", which is little Jo's nickname for me.

I could have made excuses. I could have tried to get something done on my never-ending to-do list.
Instead, though, I did something for someone else. I slowed down, and breathed and enjoyed my sister and brother-in-law and niece for an hour and was completely blessed. Sometimes we have to stop and look.

Because if we don't, we miss out on the precious, priceless things that life hides from our overview glances. We miss the things that don't come into focus right away. We have to look for some things. And if we don't, we never see them.

So, these pictures - most of them, I took them thinking "These are going to be cow-pie pictures because of __________". (And the careless part of me took the picture anyway...) Fortunately, I was wrong! They turned out just fine... :D Enjoy!

Kona was on my lap when I took this...I didn't think it was going to turn out, because this lens doesn't zoom out AT ALL. But it worked! And turned out very nice, if I do say so myself... ;)

You know, for this picture being taken from the car, it turned out pretty good...

What can I say? I'm a messy cook ...I thought the spilled popcorn kernels looked pretty...

A glorious Montana view, just for you!

lessons from a storm cloud.

Yep. Life can be dull.
dull: (adjective) not lively or spirited, listless; causing boredom; tedious; uninteresting.
There are such things as flat spots in life. Quiet days, when Pinterest and tea suddenly lose their allure. Silent moments, when you realize that life is not a "roller coaster that only goes up". (Thank you, John Green and Augustus Waters).
Sometimes, life has to rest on the plains.
There are days when all I wish for is to travel. To see the world and buy trinkets to send back home. But I can't. I stay and sit at my desk. I marvel at how time flies when you are sitting still.
Let me clarify. Time doesn't fly when you are sitting still. It crawls, inching along like a pond full of molasses, wriggling and squirming and taking it's sweet little time getting somewhere interesting.
There are days when I am BORED.
And that is when I am reminded of storm clouds.
Yes, storm clouds. As in storms? As in, the calm before the storm?
Because they always come. There is always that breath before the rain comes pouring down, and the lull before the snow blocks out all vision beyond 20 feet. That pause when nature rests because its big moment is coming soon.
And I am reminded by these storm clouds that I, too, must rest before my storm.
Because in one week I have a photography class that I'm taking with Dani and my college class starts up this week which means homework and I work and I have to start practicing for the musical that starts in April (which really isn't that far away) and I have two dentist appointments in the next two weeks and a friend wants to have coffee andI'mtryingnottolosemymindandstillfindtimetoreadforpleasureandspendtimewithmyfamilyandmydogandmysisterandmynieceandholyfreakingcowI'mgoingtohyperventilate...
*inhale deeply*
Thus the reason why I'm grateful for storm clouds. And boring days. Because there will come a day when I will be busy again. And I will hate it and wish for nothing to do. And then the boring days will come, and I will wish for something, ANYTHING, to do.
But today is my calm day. My wishing day. And because they only come around every once in a while, I'm going to enjoy it.