...

It might sound cliche, but all I want for Christmas is you.

...

In solitude, my thoughts are always with you
My lips quiver and rise into a smile
Remembering moments so recently past

Memories bring our fire to life
Our fingers intertwine and feet scatter
Dancing across a floor

Even in solitude, especially in solitude, I am never alone
Memories greet me like dear friends
Filling my heart with delight

I reminisce and remember what has been
Then grin, knowing that this is only the beginning
Many moments have been made but many yet remain.

weekends away

My first year living in Dallas all I did was go to work and church and spend a lot of time at home.  I don't think I believed in a time off request, or at least I was scared to request any time off.  I think I wanted to be the ultimate employee, like I felt I had something to prove, and I had no life anyway, so I had no reason to want to take time away.  Now that I've been here longer, I still don't do much in Dallas.  I go to work and church and spend a lot of time at home, but I do sometimes go and do stuff with people.  I have discovered that I love having a car and being able to just take off for a couple days.  My work schedule doesn't readily allow this, but when it does, like this weekend, I am thrilled to get away.  I have some close friends right now, but they don't live as near as I would like them to -- one is two hours away, another is close to six.  A few weekends ago I drove the six, this weekend I drove the two.  I find that the longer I have known someone, the more I value their friendship.  I have known both of these people for eight or nine years and am thrilled to finally live close enough to them again that having them in my life in an actual tangible way is possible again.

yet unwritten

Yet unwritten are the days to come
Yet unspoken are the hours
We can hope for days of sunlight
Lighting freshly blooming flowers

Now a chapter's being written
A story so long left untold
About a handsome knight and maiden
How ever will this tale unfold

love and respect.

These have been on my mind today, figuring out how to love and respect someone well.  I feel like I've been testing out boundaries to discover what's acceptable or not.  It's fun to poke at someone, but only as long as it's fun for them as well.  There comes a time when they have to say, "ok, that really is enough."  And it's also important to be able to say "sorry" and stop poking when you've gone to far.

Oh Daniel Powter...

I need your magic.  I feel like every time I listen to your song, my bad day gets better, or it never gets to be bad in the first place.  Right now I'm tired.  Mentally and physically, and though my day wasn't terrible, it was kind of disappointing and long.

So here goes.  In case you have never heard Daniel Powter's song Bad Day, here it is:

Musings le SEI

I may disagree with myself in the future, I do go back and forth on personality typing stuff - it's enough to drive me mad!  I keep thinking about how Myers-Briggs personality descriptions sometimes mention "preferred" types for relationships then follow with the caveat that two people of any personality preferences can build a healthy relationship.  Then, you swing on over to Socionics, where there is a whole theory of inter-type relationships.  I have perused these charts many times.  The MBTI personality type I most frequently get is ISFJ, but in socionics I tested as an ISFp or an SEI, a "Sensing Ethical Introvert", which makes sense because of the order of functions and the way the different theories choose the perception vs. judgement function.  The differing theories have different ideas about what the personality of my "perfect" match would be, and it seems that it would be interesting to uncover the reasons why and also to experiment with specimens of each of those types -- you know, see if guys with those personalities could actually be good for me.  Just deliver them to my door please!... oh.  You could just find me an ENTP.  according to Socionics, they are my perfect type match.  I'm curious if this is accurate.

The thing is, although it's easy to want personality typing to be some kind of formulaic way to weed out all the future duds in my life, or to find prince charming?, a person is so much more than the box that psychology puts him in.  So much more.  And relationships are not built on psychological compatibility, but on an every day choosing to love someone and to make the relationship work, not just work, but flourish -- with a lot of humility and a lot of patience... and a lot of communication.  Now, these things may be easier between some people than others, and some of that could have to do with personality types, but all relationships require these regardless.

Beyond the formula of personality matches, I'm not convinced that a.) a person's personality is totally fixed, b.) that each preference is mutually exclusive of the other options, c.) probably a lot of other things, but it's all a jumble.  Everyone is a mixture of all the traits and preferences of personality.  Introverts often carry some extroverted traits.  Extroverts can carry some introverted traits.  E over I is just a person's preference.  And it could just be a preference during the testing based on factors regarding the person's state of mind.  I know that I test differently depending on whether I feel like I have something to prove or not.  The bad thing is that I know how most questions on a personality test relate to the letters given for preference, so since I heavily analyze the test and find it hard to discover what the true answers may be for me, I don't fully trust my responses.  I'm not convinced that self analysis is the best way to discover personality anyway.  What if I think that INTPs are really cool?  Then I find a way to test like an INTP.  I begin to believe I'm an INTP.  I read up on INTPs and try to mimic their characteristics.  Does this make me an INTP?  No.  I'm not sure what the point of that was, but there was one in there somewhere.




Ooh!  One last point I have contemplated.  If, say, I am not a strong introvert, not a strong sensor, not a strong feeler, and not a strong judger, does it not seem that I could be very similar, personality-wise, to someone who was my "opposite" but also was not strong in each category?  So... an ENTP and an ISFJ could appear similar if they did not strongly prefer each trait?  Must ponder.

//end of musings for now.  they will continue on in my head.

state of room, state of mind

It's funny how much the state of my room is indicative of the state of my mind.  I really do enjoy a clean space, which may be hard to believe on any random day walking in and seeing two easels set up with art on them -- one floor and one desk easel, along with paints strewn across my desk and the beginnings of ideas in physical form filling my art making space.  Then, you look to the floor where storage containers have been opened and left, more ideas that are trying to be worked through but haven't quite made it, remnants of crazed rummaging through old trinkets for inspiration.  A laundry basket may sit in the middle of the floor full of clothes -- and sometimes it's hard to remember if they're clean or not.  Shoes and clothes may lie haphazardly in piles, indicative of my attempts to purge my wardrobe of unwanted things, and also outfit crafting.  Basically, if you walked into my room a few days ago you may have tripped and fallen or at least found it a bit of a maze and a walking disaster -- though it truly looked like an artist's den with all the works in progress.

For weeks at a time I don't have the energy or the desire to clean, but I have the drive to create stuff which often leads to clutter.  Then, and this day does eventually come, my head finally feels clear and I find myself sorting out the clutter, rearranging furniture and starting fresh.  I would like to get to a point where my space is always clean, or at least the floor always clear, but I'm not there right now.  If my room is a mess, my mind is probably a mess -- full of ideas and dreams, worries, and future wonders.  It's when it is blissfully clear that I feel the urge to also make my space clear.

The desire to clean struck yesterday and my room is again in a relative state of clean.

thoughts and opportunities

I've thought about more school, because I have felt that may be the best way to move forward with my life, but in some ways not doing more school and feeling that more school is necessary is my way of putting life on hold, at least a little bit.  I don't take opportunities because I don't feel qualified enough for them, but I'm just scared of putting myself out there and owning it, whether the outcome is good or bad.

Off and on since school I have looked into artist residencies because that seemed like a good way to move forward in this weird calling of artist.  I was seriously considering a ceramics residency in Georgia about a year ago, but I never finished the application.  I don't think I was ready to move on into the great unknown yet.  That position is currently filled and will be until May of 2014.  I may have to look into it again soon, you know, when the ceramicist is looking for a new studio helper again.  My friend Janine also just posted an opportunity on Facebook at a Lutheran retreat center she's working at right now, Holden Village, in Chelan, WA.  At first I was like, cool, but not for me -- but I read the website's description and the whole thing sounded wonderful.  It would be in February and March of 2014.  I would have to quit my job -- or ask for a leave of absence?  I'll have to talk to my boss about that if I'm accepted -- and move across the country for six weeks, but what a wonderful six weeks it would be.  The scary part is just up and leaving and not being sure of employment afterwards -- but one step at a time, right?  If it's meant to be, things will fall into place.

Another song for my theoretical album...

This is the one that was going to be about not fitting someone's list of future wife/girlfriend material.  I changed it a little bit -- after writing and editing there is actually no mention of a "list" though I think that could make a comical song.  This is about the same situation though, one summer and one guy who spent a lot of time with me but it turns out had absolutely no interest... he was still pining over his last relationship that was a pretty serious one, and clearly had a type (his ex-girlfriend), and I did not fit that type.  It's ok, I'm over him.

I'm not your girl, You're not my man

You're not over your ex-girlfriend yet
That is something I'm beginning to get
Just admit you're in rebound mode
Even I can understand your code

I'm not your girl
You're not my man
She's not your girl
It's not the plan
Just walk away --
I think that's better, in a way

We spent many hours, many days
But for you I was just a passing phase
You really want that girl of old
She's really something or so I'm told

I'm not your girl
You're not my man
She's not your girl
It's not the plan
Just walk away --
I think that's better, in a way

Why do you spend so much time
Caught in this pantomime
You seem to think it's alright
But man, you're not that bright
Stop leading me along
Adding fuel to this song

I'm not your girl
You're not my man
She's not your girl
It's not the plan
Just walk away --
I think that's better, in a way
It really is better this way
I know you're gonna be ok.

It's like I'm shooting myself in the foot, but the bullet hits my heart.

When I want to talk to you every moment every day
But it seems you don't feel quite the same way
It's like I'm shooting myself in the foot, but the bullet hits my heart
Why do I feel this way, why did it all have to start?

My mind imagines you oblivious to this pain
Sitting nonchalant as I drive myself insane.
It's not practical or logical that I should feel this way,
That I should take this risk at all is an area of gray

Ooh, It's beginning to get to me
I sometimes like these chains
But I wish I was free

And yet I sit here thinking about this boy so far away
How I wish we could visit, for awhile even stay
I second guess conclusions about this lovely mess
But it seems I shouldn't have expected any less

Ooh, It's beginning to get to me
I sometimes like these chains
But I wish I was free

What I want are answers, but they may be hard to hear
So I sit here in silence, waiting out this year
Hoping and dreaming it will work itself all out
But that is something I'm beginning to doubt.

Ooh, It's beginning to get to me
I sometimes like these chains
But I wish I was free
And I wish you loved me.

...

This water will be my vodka, I'll drink my sorrows down.
-- this song will be the smoke to fill my lungs and ease my head

I wish that was a quote from somewhere to give it context.  I guess it does have context, though, since it came from my head while I was drinking water and feeling melancholy.  Just like everything else these days, I feel like it should be part of a song.  But I don't really feel like taking the time to make it a song, so it's just jotted down for a rainy day.  Of course, since I don't smoke and I rarely have a drink, the beautiful irony is that I'm sitting here drinking water and thinking about people who deal with stress and melancholy moods with alcohol and cigarettes, mentally stepping into their minds and filling their shoes.

Sometimes...

Oh dear, I really shouldn't read personality forums.  But, I did find a way I relate to a Britney Spears song so that's a plus?  I was reading this thread about ISFPs and dating and someone linked to the Britney Spears song "Sometimes" in order to explain how ISFPs can sometimes pull away even if they really like someone.  Which I relate to.  I'm scared, I think, of people really knowing me, even if that's also something I really want.  Oh, by the way, I'm probably an ISFP.  I've been caught between ISFP and ISFJ, but I really think I'm more of the former than the latter.

Zero Miles Per Hour

Sometimes I feel like I'm going nowhere, and I'm going nowhere very slowly, like I have no destination, and I'm not even moving.  Sometimes I feel like a failure.  When I quantify the data, I know that's not true, but it's really hard for me to accept fact over negative emotion.  I felt similarly last December and tried to cope with it by applying to teach English in China.  I thought it would be a good thing to do, but it was never the right choice for me.  I decided in July that I would not go.  It was a good decision.  A weight was lifted of my shoulders.  In the Spring I began filling out an Application to UT Arlington for a teaching certificate program.  I never finished it.  I started thinking about grad school again in the past few months and requested information on an MFA program, and now I'm not sure if I want that or not.  I feel like there's something more than what I'm living, but I'm not finding it.  I feel stuck, and it's almost like I like being stuck, like I don't want to create opportunities that would let me leave.  I'm the bird that left the nest, then returned to the nest and now wants to hide in the nest.  But at the same time I really want to be able to afford my own apartment and to have a job that I absolutely love and to have close friends nearby, but I'm going nowhere and I'm dragging my feet.  What is there for me here?  What is there for me elsewhere?  If I could live anywhere, where would that be?  Not California, it's too expensive.  Not Texas, it's too hot.  For awhile I envisioned Kansas as the perfect place, but that was when I was seriously considering an Art Therapy degree and Emporia State University was appealing.  I've never been to Kansas.  I don't know what to think of it.

What I really want is to love and be loved and be surrounded by people who love me.  I think I'm a little jealous sometimes of all my friends who have found husbands and are now building families.  That's built in love wherever you go.  If I had someone by my side, I would be happy going anywhere.  As more and more of my friends say "I do" I seriously begin to wonder if I ever will.  How does it even happen that two people find each other and discover that they feel the same for one another?  The concept is a mystery to me.  In middle school I felt like the odd girl out because my best friend would always be asked by several guys to every school event and I, ever faithfully by her side, would not be asked at all.  In high school I went to a few events with dates, but most of them were Sadie Hawkins -- I did the asking.  Now, after escaping college with only one GYRAD "get your roommate a date" to my name and only the occasional fast food rendezvous (where I mostly paid for both of us because he was broke) with a guy who really liked me but who I wasn't really interested in, I don't know where to look.

So here I am, 23, single, feeling like a girl lost at sea.  Going zero miles per hour.  Come save me.

"The Chapter of You"

I toyed with the idea of writing songs for a personal music album today.  I shared a song with my friend Vicki yesterday that I wrote in high school and she liked it.  It seems like it would be fun to write songs according to the same theme.  Of course, it will be a little bit stereotypical for a female wannabe vocal artist -- at least if I go with my current thoughts.  Album title: "The Chapter of You."  Included: songs inspired by ways that guys in my life have proven specifically frustrating to me.  The idea I guess is for it to all be directed to one person, but I think it would be more interesting to write songs based on all my life experience with my lack of dating.  I find it interesting when I divulge to someone older that I have never dated anyone or been willingly kissed.  They seem to find that a.) fascinating b.) surprising (but you're such a nice girl! surely...) c.) I don't even know.  I'm not a mind reader.  Just because I've never dated doesn't mean I don't have a plethora of stories and thoughts that could make for interesting song lyric tinder.  At 23 I'm kind of fed up with guys sometimes, but I still love them I guess.

Of course I will write a song called "The Chapter of You" you know, the title song.  I toyed with ideas on the way home from a wedding reception in Arlington today.  Actually, it was also partially that wedding reception that acted as a catalyst for this thought pattern.  With friends getting married right and left it's really hard to be ok with my life as it is.  It feels like it's constantly being disrupted by other people finding their "one" ... and I'm just like... awesome for you!  (let me go hide in a corner and cry.) Another song on the album will be "Find Me - I've Run Away" (that's a working title, I tend to just call it "Find Me" which may be the full title in the end.)  I also want to include one along the lines of "Face to Face" and the difference it makes to actually see someone face to face as opposed to only communicating through barriers - like time, space, technology.  Also, something like "Woah, Slow Down, Sir" and "Not On Your List."  In order about a guy liking me too much too quickly and me "not fitting" someone's list of what he's looking for in a girlfriend.  Oh.  and just for funsies, "Stuck in the Friendzone."  I feel like guys complain about that a lot, but what about girls?  Girls can feel stuck in the friendzone as well, like the guys in their lives only see them as pals and nothing more.  That's what, if I actually write them all?  Six songs.  Totally enough for a short album.

Time.

Time moves.  It is a continual force that cannot be stopped, and we shouldn't want to stop it.  Living, growing, aging - these are all beautiful things that require the movement of time.  Sometimes I want time to slow down, and sometimes I want it to speed up.  In all these wishings, it remains constant, it continues to move at the same pace it always has.  There are some moments I want captured forever and others I wish I could quickly forget.  Still other moments leave me bewildered - I'm not sure what to think.  Life is rarely as simple as we would like it to be, or as complex as we can make it out to be.  Sometimes, sometimes I just have to wait and see.  Patience may not only be a virtue, but a key.

to be stunning

Wow.  My 101st post.  Maybe I'm actually getting the hang of this blogging thing.

This morning I'm thinking a lot about something I don't really talk much about because it's a sensitive topic for women... or maybe people in general who face any kind of struggle with it.  I've always had some issues with body image and weight - particularly weight, because I think I look frickin' awesome, I would just look frickin' awesomer at 135-140 lbs.  I've decided that one of my goals in life is to be absolutely stunning.  Stunning personality, stunning looks, stunning life -- to be someone that others look at and have to take a half step back (almost falling) and go "woah!".  Well, college totally ruined that with the freshman 15 that for me became the like freshman 20 or 30 (I don't know, I didn't have a scale)... and then my sophomore year I got up to 200 lbs.  (actually probably 205 or something, but I was completely horrified by this)  Basically, my life was a whirlwind of crazy and I didn't know how to cope with it.  And we had a fully stocked buffet style cafeteria where I was required to have a meal plan.  You know, living on my own and having to buy all my own food would do wonders for my waistline.  Moving home has done wonders.  Having a job that keeps me busy has done wonders.  Leaving the stress of school behind has helped, too.  Anyway, I write, because in the last two or three years, I have lost about 20 lbs - a little more possibly depending on how high I actually got in 2009/2010 - maybe even 25 lbs?!?.  I really don't like weight to be a main life focus so I rarely admit to people that I actually think about it, but I would like to be a fit person - it's part of the stunning goal.  In the last couple weeks I finally broke 180 - in the lower direction. (I dropped to 179.8)  Today I reached a new low.  I am excited to keep seeing the numbers drop.  It's a slow process, but thankfully it's been a steady one, and with this sort of thing to actually be a real life changing forever thing, it needs to be slow.

questions

I know this is a stupid thing to say because it seems so obvious, but it can also be obviously overlooked.  If you want answers to questions, they have to be asked.  If you aren't sure, don't ask.  There are some things I have thought about asking recently that I haven't because I'm not sure I want the answer, and other things that I am glad I found the answer or at least some answers to.  Asking questions also happens to be the best way to get to know someone.  I'm kind of a volunteer of information myself, but I'm discovering that most people require that we dig.  And sometimes it's the digging that says that we care, because if I'm willing to ask questions and listen to the answers, then not only do I find interesting insight into someone's life, but they feel valued.  Life is about living and valuing people.  That's hard when we spend so much time living for and valuing only ourselves.

Edit: I may be good at volunteering information about myself, but I love it when someone cares enough to ask me about stuff.

blast to the future of the past

I have this weird urge every once in awhile to try to find people from my distant past - like that I knew when I was six - who I've fell out of touch with.  I think it's a desire for closure that I was never too good with.  It seems like goodbyes were always "see you later" and more often than not, that later never came.  I have kind of a mental list of people I remember from school that have just disappeared from my life, and I kind of like the challenge of going off very little information in a great big cyberspace of an internet.  Tonight I finally tracked down my crush from kindergarten.  He got married last summer.  Darnit.  Not that that really matters, I never really knew him.  He left in elementary school -- initially I was thinking second grade, but I think he may have been there in fifth as well, and we weren't even really friends.  It was more of an admiration from afar, though I feel like we maybe would have been friends if we lived in the same place for longer.  It was haunting to see a photo of him again, all grown up, and to still vaguely recognize his face.  It seems like it's probably creepy of me to look random people up, but I genuinely wonder sometimes about people who just seem to have fallen off the face of the earth.  You know, what ever became of them?  Sometimes it's nice to have questions answered even if only partially.

yes no wait

Yes no or wait
Some simple words
Determining fate

I don't like no
For it seems the end
Of to and fro

Unbending and
Intolerant of
Each demand

Yes, of course, would be
The pleasing end to
This eternity

Not having to wait
But jump in quickly
Nothing to anticipate

Wait is forever tough
Because it requires time
Which seems harsh enough

Developing patience
And waiting, anxious
Meanwhile becoming an ancient

Yes no or wait
These simple words
Determine my fate

And if wait I must
Then that's what I'll do
Though it feels so fully unjust.

developing a studio practice

After being out of art school for a year, I still make stuff sometimes, though not as often as I would like.  I keep thinking back to my senior year classes where we discussed the development of a studio practice and how to continue being an artist outside of school and requirements to create.  I definitely would like to continue to make art.  That is really all I ever wanted to do.  If I could shut down the rest of life's requirements and just create all day that would be grand.  I have a lot of ideas but haven't had the patience or organization to sort them all through.  And I think I am also afraid of failure.  I wish that was a fear I would dismiss more easily.  Making bad art isn't failure, it's just learning what not to do next time.  But I think the problem is that I want to skip the process and get to the product.  I've always kind of been that way.  I need to learn to sit in the mess a little longer before something interesting emerges.

Tonight I spent a fair amount of time looking at art supplies online after perusing a Blick catalog - one of my favorite sorts of mail besides personal correspondence - and almost made an order until I looked at my balances and freaked out.  Darned automatic loan payments and the beginning of the month.  It's ok, it just means I have to wait a bit longer and think a bit more carefully about my purchase before I make it.  In the meantime, I have a lot of art supplies already.  In my room.  Begging me to use them.  I just have to wait for inspiration to strike.  I did start a small 8"x8" panel painting tonight on a cradled panel, the way panels ought to be.  I've been thinking a lot about the sky, so at the moment it is a yellow, clouded sky.  A sunset may be predictable, but it also may end up being one.  There is something lovely about sunsets, and something fitting about them for my current state of semi bliss.  It's a layer painting.  I'm thinking of adding pinks to it, I'm just hoping I don't go for overkill this time.

I need to work on organization.  In general.  Not messy organization, but organized organization.  Just because I know where in what pile something is does not mean that the place is organized.  I need to work on organizing my art stuff so that a studio practice is actually a plausible thing in my little space I call my room.  I have a desk and table easel... I just need to have space on the desk to use the table easel.  But I guess life is a continual work in progress.

sketches and notes

I was looking through my iphoto images and found this photo I took of a sketch and some musings of mine from around 2010/2011.  I kind of had a fascination at the time of drawing mundane things -- like umbrellas or still lives, and I think I still have that fascination sometimes.  It's interesting to draw something and in drawing and delighting in the details really realize how beautiful even simple things are -- like the folds of the fabric in partially closed table umbrellas.  The top comments on the page - "Drawing is about learning how to see - for me it is a recording of things I find somehow stunning in hopes that others will be able to find beauty in them as well, even if they are normally found to be simple, common, commercial, mundane" - speak to this delight and fascination.  The bottom part deals more with something I was processing, which was my desire to draw things from life and as they are rather than drawing in a comic style or from my imagination, though both of those seemed significantly more popular to audiences at the time.  I still would like to develop more of an illustrative style that would be less directly derived from life, but it isn't something I have put a lot of effort into yet -- something I ought to put more effort into.

Reprieve

I'm told my eyes smile
When certain thoughts cross
My mind
I know it's been awhile
But this isn't loss
Of any kind

I'm storing these memories away
In a mental file
Filled with many things
For a rainy day
Get past this denial
That distance brings

And maybe someday when the sun shines and the clear sky glimmers blue
Memories won't be my only reprieve.

the duty of the citizen

I'm not sure if I'm happy or sad that I had a day off today.  Tomorrow is my first time ever having to go in for jury duty.  I have lived in this county for almost exactly a year and have now received my first summons.  The previous place I lived, I never had jury duty, though that likely had to do with my perpetual full time student status... and the fact that I didn't bother to register to vote when I was there.  I doubt it will be a terrible experience, but I find myself drawn to my bed to just lay and do nothing.  I'm feeling sort of depressed or under the weather.  I don't know if it's just jury duty or a combination of things that have been going through my mind recently, but I know that having jury duty coming so soon certainly has put me out of sorts.  I don't like doing new things alone.  I like to be introduced to them by people either familiar with them or confident in their lack of knowledge.  I have never been to the courthouse in my county, and I have never seen it.  I just know it's in downtown and there will probably be bad traffic and it may be hard to find good parking.  I can take the bus, but that's another thing I haven't done since moving to this place and taking my car is one less new thing to feel overwhelmed with.

leaving as a meth -od of living

Hey, I don't like this thing called going away
I really don't think that it's okay
I've heard it called a kind of death
Though to some it is their meth -od of living
Drug and maybe habit
Something I have dabbled in
I must admit
Cuz leaving's something that's so easy to do
But consider the ramifications
It's not just a standard vacation

So today I want everywhere
To be right here
I don't want to go away
Or spy you far away
Through the haze
but be here, now
right here, now
next to me
in this place
dreaming and talking away

Today I want everyone
All my friends
To be right here with me
They can't sadly
But really I'm tired
of friendships failing
When we go
Far far away
Out into the haze
For far too many days

Maybe not to come back again.
I'm tired of that not coming back again.

So I declare
From now on
Everywhere is in the same place
So that when you leave
You won't be
Far away

I declare
From now on
Leaving is like staying back
Adventuring is now
In our frontyards
You won't be
Far away

displaced wanderer

I am a displaced wanderer, though I feel as though I rarely travel.  This colorful map may suggest otherwise but it only represents a handful of lengthy journeys across a vast nation.  I have lived in a total of three states and two countries and have not done a lot of vacationing outside of these.  I frequently wish that all places were in the same place because I don't like leaving or being left, though sometimes going someplace new is important and even imperative.

I was talking with a friend the other day about places and about where he would rather live, and although there were positive things about various different choices he said that it was the people in those places that would draw him to the place, not place itself.  I have often cared more for the people than the places as well, which makes it impossible to really go back to someplace I have left because though the place may itself be the same, the people have changed or gone away and it can never truly be as it was.  We cannot really recapture the past, we can only arrange our present to influence our future.

When I lived in Washington I remember liking that it snowed, even though I was living on the desert side of the state.  I used to be attached to the river that ran behind my Grandma's house and to the horses that my aunt owned.  I was attached to that place because of the people and memories there.  Now I'm not so sure that is the place of my heart.  My grandparents are both gone and the house and property they lived on is being prepared for sale.  I don't know if my aunt still owns horses.  The allure of the place that I felt when I was 8 was missing.  The magic is gone.

In California I loved the weather.  The heat somehow never felt as hot as Texas, mainly because we were closer to the ocean so the breeze would come in and cool everything down in the afternoon and evening.  I always wished it would rain more there, but it never got too hot or too cold, really, so I was happy with that.  I miss the people there, but my extended family has been slowly spreading out as cousins have grown up and moved on their own following their own adventures, and now that college is finished it seems only natural for my friends and classmates to slowly spread their wings and find their own adventures.  California was losing its allure and it seemed time to move on.

Now Texas.  Texas summers are too hot for their own good, but we get real weather here.  I'm not sure I like being somewhere that houses can collapse from weather, but I've always loved storms and rain - real weather!  Texas feels more green than Southern California.  It's less of a desert.  The city feels smaller than Los Angeles, though its big enough to still truly be city.  I don't know a lot of people here, still, though I'm making friends at church and work.  I'm optimistic about this place and the people here, but there's part of me that feels that Texas isn't it, yet.  Maybe nowhere will ever be "it."  Maybe I'll be a forever wanderer.

I'm happy to be in a state more central in the United States now.  It makes visiting my scattered friends a lot easier, makes the road trips less lengthy than driving from California, though visiting California friends is now more challenging not being there.  I feel like I'm at a point in life of re-evaluation of my friendships - you know, which ones are true friendships, who should I work hard to hold on to.  I don't think where they live matters because location can always change, theirs or mine, and there are so many future unknowns, but I think it is important to have friends and to consciously work at developing those friendships and building a community of people to build each other up.  That's something that I really want but that I am not the best at.  Moving away it's easiest to also move on, to say goodbye to old friends, build new ones, and let that be that.  But I'm not always okay with that.  There are some people I don't want to say goodbye to.

momentary musings

So, letting down walls is both freeing and frightening, both in the moment and after.  I keep feeling the need for reassurance that somehow this wasn't all a crazy dream or twisted nightmare.  It flashed like the blink of an eye, and now life appears to have returned to normal.  I find myself wondering if I should have kept walls up longer, been more a mystery and less a me, maybe never stuck my toe in the water to see how it might feel.  I'm tired of staying silent and letting life live me, I'm meant to live life.

tangent.

Again, what I set out to write this evening quickly took a turn down a different path, but it was a delightful path, so I let it go there.  What I was thinking about writing while driving home this evening was how I feel like our closing announcements should be made in multiple languages.  So often we have people come in to the store who do not know English super well, and though they often bring a friend who can translate for them, that is not always the case.  On my way home I was trying to string together in my head the words that would be needed to have the closing announcement in Spanish to follow one in English.  I remember once when we were closing finding a Hispanic family in the store and telling them that we were closing -- or actually closed at that point -- and they were happy to go through the checkout, they simply did not realize, despite our announcements, that we were closed.  "Cerrado" a son translated for his mother.  "Si, estamos cerrado" I replied.

The announcement: "Hola clientes esta tienda está cerrando en diez minutos"... o, "hola clientes, esta tienda está cerrada. Favor de traer sus selecciones finales para el frente de la tienda donde los cajeros estarán encantados de ayudarle. Gracias, y tener una buena noche."

I figured out the first part on my own, but I got stuck on a few of the words and some of the phrasing in the rest.  I think that "esta tienda está cerrada" is probably the most important, anyway.  I got the rest from google translate, but I made sure to use English words that gave me Spanish words that I recognized.

I think what I was most grammatically unsure about was how to address los clientes.  I was personally considering a proper "you all" (or y'all, yes I do live in Texas...), you know, "ustedes".  Maybe something like "ustedes traen..." hence this next (and I personally think better) one:

"Hola clientes, esta tienda está cerrada.  Favor, van a la delantera de la tienda con las cosas que ustedes quieren comprar. Y como siempre, gracias ustedes por hacer compras con nosotros."

Bueno, necesito ir a la cama.  Buenas noches! or as google translate would say possibly more correctly(?)
Bueno, tengo que ir a la cama.
But maybe it's just a difference in preference.  Do I have to go to bed or do I need to go to bed?

And after all that, I bid thee good night.

vanitas. a chasing after the wind.

Again I feel like sharing the world, but like I have no one to share the world with, so I'm sharing it with my dear blog-ary.  Today.  Today I had a full shift at work starting with teaching a class and ending with preparing the store for inventory.  Only one of the three students who paid for the class showed up, so we had a private lesson.  It was a lot of fun.  I wish I could be payed to color and paint all day.  I guess I wish I was my own boss and worked as a professional artist, not just painting or drawing, but continually creating.  Something.  and letting that be enough.  I guess the only problem is that I'm more interested in creating than in selling.  The clutter of creations in my living space is proof enough of this.  I have three good sized paintings on my wall and more stowed next to my dresser.  Under my bed are yarn skeins in zipped bags separated into different crochet projects.  Here there are also two large portfolios and a portfolio sized flat box filled with old drawings and paintings on thin board and printmaking experiments.  These are from high school through college.  I think I still have some work from elementary school in the closet.  Part of me wants to photograph everything I can and put together a brag book for my mom... and partially a book for myself just to visually see the ideas and progress my work as made over the years, over my life.  I have a shelf on my wall dedicated to my hand bound books.  I have a drawing in progress under my desk taped to a drawing board.  A painting in progress is on my desk propped against a wall.  A partially dismantled ceramic sculpture sits on my bookshelf next to my book project on memory.  Precious pit fired ceramic lattice pieces lay in a stack on another shelf below a quizzical ceramic bird.  The rest of my work is on the walls throughout my house, thrown ceramic forms taking over the fireplace and several shelves in the kitchen cupboards.  Yet, it's hard to sell these.  I feel like they are either too precious or too imperfect to part with.  Slowly I'm easing myself into the reality that I can't hold on to everything I make forever.  It's like my vanitas sculpture from 3D design my freshman year of college that I finally threw in a dumpster about a year ago: Vanity, it is all vanity, a chasing after the wind.  Or in specific reference to the piece, "Do not store up your treasure on earth where moth and rust destroy, but instead store up your treasure in heaven where moth and rust do not destroy" (personal paraphrase).  (Though, you know, objects destroyed through moth and rust hold a certain interesting artistic quality to them, a certain beauty.....)

hearts dance?

I should probably find a good friend to gab with rather than posting online, but I find that when something is joyous or distressing, two extremes, it seems necessary to share.  With someone.  Maybe the world.  Granted, I would rather meet you for tea or coffee every week and in person mutually pass stories of delight.  I have a great friend from college who I had a standing lunch or dinner date with almost every semester.  I knew that whenever that day came around I would have a friend, good conversation, lots of laughter, maybe Gilmore Girls or Mona Lisa Smile afterwards.  We tended to watch Mona Lisa Smile at the end of semesters and reminisce about our Art History classes and how the new things discussed fit in with this or that part of the art history lessons.  It was always a happy reminder of our art professors and the funny ways they would tell things, like Puls and his musings about Islam and cheeseburgers.  Of course we actually learned some art history, too, not just about cheeseburgers.  Though I feel like towards the end I just wanted school to be done with and I didn't have the concentration required to put as much focus into my classes as I should have.  I think my last year my focus fully shifted to my show and everything was thrown out of balance for me.  I know I couldn't have been a good friend that year because I had no energy to take care of myself let alone other people.  It's nice to finally be able to look back and see life from a distance, maybe with a less clouded eye.  I knew I was farsighted for a reason; even in my life things that are too close to me are blurry but get clearer as they are farther away.

But that is a seriously terrible tangent, though I was kind of enjoying the trip through my memory.

I do really wish I had someone here right now to sit in a chair across from me that would delight in my ridiculous way of seeing life and in my childlike joy at some of my life events ahead.  I think delight is an important part of life and it's no fun to keep it to yourself.  Delight is meant to be shared.

So, for the past many months there was this small nagging piece in the back of my head worrying about getting work off in order to be a bridesmaid for a wedding coming up in a few weeks.  I knew that I would have to request time off, and since other people would be involved I had to figure out way early what time to request, even though at that point I didn't have a realistic idea of the amount of time needed, so I think I probably over estimated.  However, I kind of need a vacation.  Actually, I think I badly need a vacation, so I will be happy to have the extra couple days that aren't really required.

My joy in all this is that I knew I could not find out the sentencing of time off until today, since requests are not input very much in advance.  I turned in the paperwork at the end of April, but today was the day of truth.  I looked up at the piece of paper and scanned it for victory, and I did not find my name on the list.  Sometimes a name is still listed with a couple hours or just "time off request" written all week but my name was not even there.  My heart jumped for joy and a smile spread across my face.  Later I thanked my boss for the time off, and he basically said that he decided to give it to me because I never really ask for time off and I always do my shifts.  It's good to know that work considers me to be reliable.  I mean, I've been there for almost a year and they still like me! hah.

Long story short, my heart will be dancing from now until at least several weeks from now.  First in anticipation of a summer adventure, then from going on the summer adventure, and finally from reminiscing about the adventure.

But life has been rather dance-y lately anyway.  Somehow now that I'm reaching the year mark in this new home of sorts I'm finally feeling like I am settling in and almost like I belong.  That's probably one argument against any kind of short term arrangement for me -- it takes me so long to finally feel settled... maybe I should stop feeling the need to flit from one place to the next.  But that's more of a simultaneous fear of and desire for rootedness.  Both fear and desire because I don't feel rooted and I want to be but I don't know what it means to be.  Something to consider more fully later.

July.

I'm kind of really looking forward to July.  I'm looking forward to a good friend's wedding.  I'm looking forward to getting to stand by her and rejoice with her on her special day.

I'm looking forward to some time off work, though I'm perpetually anxious that somehow that time off request I submitted months ago now will somehow be overlooked or that something will happen to not let me get all the days I'm hoping for.

I'm looking forward to driving a day to the east and picking up a friend I haven't seen for far too long on the way.  I'm looking forward to quality time with people who have been essentially out of my life for the last few - ahem, five?! - years who I don't really want out of my life.

I'm looking forward to re-registering my car in Texas and knowing that I'll have officially lived here for a year.

I'm looking forward to being near the year mark at my job, too.  (Retail thought it would conquer, but I have prevailed.)

I'm looking forward to life, and how it keeps moving forward to potentially exciting possibilities.

Between July and I stand about ten hours of cashiering and two hours of teaching a painting class.  Between my July adventures and I stand about two weeks of cashiering and possible teaching.  If patience is a virtue, then in that way I am not virtuous.  I want to time travel to the future.

work, food, books... and sweltering weather

The whole actually teaching classes thing started for me last Saturday.  I had two students.  This Saturday I prepared for eight but only had five.  I have another class next Friday.  The most interesting thing about this class teaching thing that really isn't related to the classes at all is figuring out what to do with the time I have between teaching and cashiering.  Last Saturday it worked out great because I only had about an hour or so between the two -- enough for a long drawn out lunch.  Today I had about three hours.  I ended up bringing a fat book with me - The Brothers Karamazov and sat at Corner Bakery for about two hours eating a sandwich far more slowly than usual and reading.  I was excited to read the book again -- well, to try to read it.  I've never actually finished it because I don't get that far into it in one sitting and by the time I get back to it I forget where I am at and decide to start over again.  I'm hoping this time it will stick and I can actually read the whole thing in the next few weeks... It will be nice with all the annoying split shifts I'm anticipating.

After this I spent about half an hour half sleeping in my sweltering car.  Of course, when I decided to open my windows to let some slightly less sticky air in, some slightly spitty rain decided to come down.  This wouldn't have been bad except that I was still sort of reading and I didn't want my book to get wet.  I remember when I moved to Texas about a year ago thinking how much more humid it was here than in Southern California.  I mentioned this to people a few times and I remember at least one person saying that Texas was not humid.  False.  June is the month that proves that statement wrong.  California is dry all year round.  I don't know how to work up a sweat there.  Texas.  Is not dry year round.  And it is easy to work up a sweat.  By sitting.  Outside.  Sometimes the rain evaporates into the air before it hits the ground.

Life Recap

With so many friends graduating recently I've been thinking more about my own graduation  a year ago and all the things that have happened since.  This past year has been a very difficult and transitional one for me -- but I guess difficult and transitional is how we grow.  Almost a year ago now I walked to the tune of pomp and circumstance with all the people I had somehow co-existed and learned with, and befriended on various levels for the past four years.  We sat and listened to Mako Fujimura give a moving speech about asking ourselves daily what we would make.  Some other words were spoken, then the first row of graduates stood and lined up by the stage.  I was number 8 in line.  I heard as my friends before me were announced and whisked across the stage.  After a few moments it was my turn.  I heard Jon Puls announce my name and I walked across the stage, slightly dazed, stopping to shake the hand of DBC and to be handed a diploma cover.  I then got to sit back down while the other thousand graduates heard their names called and got their diploma covers.  The recessional led us back away from the grassy lawn and into a cheering hoard of people -- friends and family.  And after a few moments, it was all over.  I went off with my family to celebrate with a picnic in the park, and I haven't seen a lot of those people since.  I think I wish I had more time to make memories with people important to me in that sea of faces.  I also wish I had more time to develop some of the friendships that were just barely begun.  Instead, I graduated, packed up my stuff, and moved several states over.  I kind of started over, in a new place, where I only knew a few people who I hadn't seen in years.  I got a job in retail, which I still have.  I enjoy it, though the 25 mile commute in each direction each day takes a bit of a toll.  I joined a church, Duncanville First Baptist Church, and joined the music ministry playing french horn for the services - third or fourth depending on who all makes it on any given Sunday.  I got connected with the college group, though I'm not in college anymore, so I always feel this bit of disconnect. 

Then, a few months into this new adventure, my grandmother passed away.  I didn't go to the funeral.  I couldn't deal with yet another life upset and I had a new job that I didn't want to jeopardize.  In retrospect, I could have gone, it would have been fine.  It probably would have been good.  I think I mourn most over the fact that I never feel like I got to know my grandmother.  I don't feel like I really got to know any of my grandparents.  I wasn't around.  I was in another country, living a separate life in another world.

Towards the end of 2012 I decided that I felt stuck, like my life wasn't going anywhere.  I decided to apply to ELIC for the opportunity to teach English overseas -- like my life didn't feel crazy enough already.  I dragged my feet through the whole process, but continued to follow through with the application.  I didn't want to start the process then completely back out.  I found out recently that I have been accepted into the program and can go July of 2014 if I choose.  I'm still weighing my options.

This spring I was hired as an art teacher at my current retail location, so basically I have two hats for the same employer now: art teacher and cashier.  I have two students in a class for this Saturday.  If a third joins, the minimum number of students, it will be my first class.  I've started having dreams about teaching these classes.  I think it expresses my concern about the situation.

I look forward to July with my next imminent adventure and Mel's wedding.  She asked me to be a bridesmaid and I will be driving to the east coast.  This will be my first time on that side of the country!  It will be a fun trip, picking up a good friend I haven't seen in far too long in Arkansas on the way, and getting to be a part of the wedding of a good friend I also haven't seen enough of recently!

So, I guess life is actually good right now.  I'm still working on the building friendships here thing, and I'm still working on being contented with where I am at.  If I feel like it's ok to go overseas again I may accept the teaching fellowship with ELIC, but it seems like it might be good to put down a few more roots first and to connect with a few more people.

doctor visits and personality functions

Two things, some comments on the primary function Fi in socionics and thoughts on giving blood.  So, I'll actually start with the latter first.  I had to have some blood drawn today for some tests for a physical exam that I'm doing because I was told I should.  I haven't been to the doctor in 5 years.  I tend to avoid healthcare whenever possible, not for financial reasons, though I'm sure that's a small factor -- mainly because for some reason I am wary of doctor's visits and don't find them necessary to my well-being.  I go in today and the lab technician asks, as she tries to find my veins if I've ever had problems having blood taken before; I said no, I don't think so, and she proceeded to have a hard time taking my blood.  I told her to try my other arm and see if it was any easier, because I would rather have my dominant arm slightly out of commission and have the process be faster and less painful... so she tried my right arm.  She poked me and could not find the vein.  Take two.  She switched to a smaller needle thing and poked me somewhere else that hurt a heck of a lot more, but at least she got some blood out.  It took forever.  There were three vials for tests and she couldn't get enough for all three, so instead of trying to poke me yet another place, she sort of divided what she had between them.  gah.  do not like doctor visits.  that was certainly re-affirmed.  In retrospect, I realize that I've never needed to have that much blood taken before.  For school physicals growing up overseas, they always took a lot less and they never seemed to have problems.  But I learned something today.  I am probably not a good candidate for donating blood.  Which is fine.  The thought always made me squeamish anyway.  If I have better experiences down the road with blood tests I may change this declaration, but for now, no way man.

On to Fi.  Possibly Ti as well, but I am not so familiar with that function.  I am realizing that one of the things that bugs me most about my interactions with people who have Fi as their primary function, that is, introverted feeling, is that they seem to make quick judgments about situations and feel the need to share these judgments.  With Si as my primary function my first instinct is not to judge a person or situation but to gather information.  Maybe this difference in natural response explains why my interactions with Fi primary types can frustrate me so quickly.  I speak with them not requesting a judgment but expecting them to just absorb information as I would do.  I probably need to change these expectations.

what is this thing called teaching

I am a painting instructor.  No, I have not held any classes yet, but I finally do have some students signed up.  I'm not sure what I think about this whole deal.  I strongly believe that to truly learn how to paint is a process.  I feel like the expectation of someone signing up for a painting class is to be awesome right away, or they don't sign up because they feel they have some kind of artistic inadequacy - "oh, I'm not 'crafty'."  I guess I'm bugged by the lack of ideal-ness in the situation.  What I would love, if I must teach my craft, is to have students over an extended period of time, where I could teach them first to draw then to paint, then un-teach them how to draw so that they can paint without reservation.  I'm not sure what someone expects when they sign up for a three hour one time painting class.  I guess they want instant gratification and to be able to say, "hey! look what I did!"... and I think the curriculum I'm trying to develop for this one time sort of thing should allow that.  I guess what I'm having more trouble with is figuring out what I'm supposed to teach in my kids classes... especially because one of my students has parents who seem really eager for the kid to really learn something and succeed and figure out at a very young age if art is something they want to pursue.  I keep thinking back to when I was in elementary school and the projects my teacher had us do.  If I could just remember some of the ones I did at particular ages, maybe I could develop appropriate projects for younger aspiring artists that would be beneficial.  I was thinking tonight about class with Ms. Brown and how our assignments frequently stemmed from children's books with lots of awesome illustrations.  She would read us the book, let us each choose an illustration to copy/re-illustrate, then photocopy it so we could use it as reference.  I think it was important to not just copy a picture but to have the original context that it was drawn for, to make early connections between literature and illustration, word and image.  It's hard for me, because I've been out of elementary school for about 13 years and although I don't mind working with kids, I haven't done it so extensively that I understand what level they should really be taught at.  I don't like the idea of dumbing down lessons too much because kids understand more I think than we give them credit for, and will absorb more if more is taught.  However, I don't want to make something so challenging that a child would give up.  It has to be fun, but it shouldn't be stupid.  If that makes any sense.  Anyway, I'm thinking a lot about this, because I am one student short of teaching a kids painting class at the end of this month.  Prayer is appreciated both for there to be more interest in the class and for me to be in the right frame of mind to prepare properly and to teach the material that should be taught to the students in the class.  There will only be a few students, so it will almost be like private art lessons.

in and out of focus

It's interesting to me how intensely I can focus on one thing sometimes.  Right now is not one of those times, except perhaps for an intense focus on the variety of things that steal my focus.  I remember in college how there were certain classes - ok, most of them - where I would put off the work until the night before or until a specific day.  I would devote hours of time to that one assignment, finish it, turn it in the next day, and usually do well.  I found that having a deadline approaching made the focus even stronger.  I particularly remember with joy my young adult lit reading, my bookmaking assignments, and Theology I.  I devoted Saturdays to young adult lit, where I would read a different teenaged novel it its entirety each Saturday then do a write-up to prove my read of it.  I read Twilight in a day -- though that was written much like candy, a cheap food substitute that tastes really good at the time but isn't that wholesome, and is really easy to just swallow huge amounts of quickly.  Inkheart may have been divided, I think mainly because only a half of the book was due at a time.  I remember in bookmaking we had a "class" book, in the sense that everyone had to come up with an illustration to a theme and then all the illustrations had to be used in each book in some way.  I turned cryptozoology into a fairy tale in rhyme where the over-eager peasant who goes to rescue the princess from the dragon does NOT win her hand in marriage, a tale with slight themes of feminism - let even the princess have the right to say no.  This was a bit of a challenge the night before... I was behind on the project since it took awhile to find an idea I liked, which of course including making a rhyming fairytale somehow involving all the cryptozoological illustrations... and the night before I only had the story done, so I re-illustrated everything by hand with colored pencil, cut out the pages and then bound them together and made a slip cover.  In Theo 1 we were told that our "projects" where we had a sheet of questions we had to look up and thoroughly answer could not receive a good grade if they were done the night before.  I think I took that as a little bit of a challenge, giving like 15 pages of single spaced replies, which took me about 6 hours the night before and earned me pretty much perfect scores.  (The number of pages decreased over the semester as I realized I probably didn't have to be as overly thorough and potentially long-winded as I was.)
...Then, of course, I can find myself overly focused on some mistake I've made at work that is thoroughly bugging me, some responsibility that has been given me that I haven't yet accomplished, or some kind of future event that I don't know the details of.

I find this interesting, because I can be focused in the utter quiet of the night with no music, just my mind, my eyes, my hands, and whatever I need to accomplish.  I know a lot of people who cannot focus in this complete kind of quiet and solitude... or who just have trouble focusing in general.

cuz I got personality, babe, and there ain't nothin' you can do 'bout it.

Since I was little, my parents told me that I was a J -- and I was like, yeah I'm a J, my name's Jennifer!  Later I realized they were attempting to type me using the MBTI (Myers Briggs) personality typing system.  In high school I took several free tests online -- some of which I of course posted results to my myspace or hi5 account (I have not participated on either site in many years, may they rest in peace).  Then, my Junior year of high school I took the official MBTI test through my school's counseling office.  It told me the same thing as the free tests -- ISFJ.  This left me in a quandry as I started my degree in art and wondered how an ISFJ could want to pursue art.  I mean, isn't ISFP the artist type?  Or at least shouldn't I be an N and be interested in theories so that I can make art leaden with complex ideas that are more about the philosophy than the materials and work involved?  I guess I began to feel really boxed in with the type, especially with a sister who was really interested in personality typing (she's an INFP, so this totally makes sense) and continually assured me that yes, I was a classic ISFJ... that is, until like two days ago.  My world opened up.  I discovered socionics.  If a person is typed correctly under the MBTI system and is an introvert, to convert the MBTI type to socionics, one must only switch the final letter, for me J, to the other letter, but lowercase, for me, p.  I had looked up the socionics inter-type relationship chart many a time, of course trying to find which kinds of people would make a perfect love interest for me - or even a good friend for me - and had always put my type as ISFj thinking that socionics and MBTI were the same.  I then got discouraged because some of my favorite people were types that were supposedly not very compatible with mine.  However, in socionics, I am not an ISFj but an ISFp, or a Sensing Ethical Introvert.  I re-verified this by taking a free socionics test this afternoon.  This means that those types that were previously incompatible to mine may just be perfect guinea pigs for my affection.  I also have looked up socionics ISFp and SEI descriptions and have found that they fit me to a T.  (Pun intended, though I am not a T... pun always intended.)  This clears up so much fog that has stayed with me for so long.  As an SEI being an artist is expected, not a weird exception.  As an SEI it makes sense that I painted my room bright indigo.  Being typed as an SEI I don't feel boxed in to expectations but feel free to be who I am.  You may not realize how freeing being accurately categorized is... especially since being categorized does not sound like freedom at all.  -- Thank you sister for your initial enlightenment into the socionics world and for helping me clear the fog regarding my personality identity.  I will dig deeper with joy.

Don't want this to be over ever...

If this heart could find somebody
To love her like she ain't nobody
Want to be your special someone
I've been waiting, now I'm done

Steal my heart don't give it back again
Maybe not until I tell you when
And good sir that will be never -
Don't want this to be over ever.

( ...but it hasn't even begun, and the somebody is yet to be found)

...

My fear? It's that I'll never find someone like you again.

running away

I can't help but wonder if the constant desire to relocate at least now in life, as a college graduate trying to figure out how to be an adult, is really me wanting to run away from being an adult.  I think about Never never land and the desire to never grow up, to never take on the responsibilities of adulthood.  It also goes back to the knight in shining armor riding up on a white horse and riding off with me into the sunset -- "and they lived happily ever after" implies a blissful, responsibility-free existence.  I want to be independent, but I don't care for the added responsibility.  I want to plant roots, but when I get to a certain point in my friendships I'm scared for them to get deeper.  I want to be known, but I am also terrified to let people really know me.  I want to make a difference in the world, but I'm scared to take the first steps in those directions.  For lack of knowing that something will work out perfectly, I paralyze myself and say, "this is good enough!"  But it clearly is not good enough, because there I feel a constant restlessness.  A restlessness to keep moving forward, not back.  A restlessness to not stay tied down to what is ok, but to surge forward and seek what is exceptional.  Seeking the exceptional is not running away from growing up, but rather running towards it.  The problem is that though I have the desire to seek the exceptional, I find myself shrinking back and running away from that desire.

A breakdown.  I guess life goals might clarify some of this internal pull.  In my life I would like to teach at some point, and I would like to receive proper training for teaching.  I would like to spend some time in foreign countries.  I would like to help people and work in a not-for-profit setting.  I would like to study psychology and art therapy.  I would like to develop strong friendships with a few wonderful people and have a wide net of acquaintances.  I would like to meet a godly man who would become one of these inner circle good friends and would like to eventually date him and marry him, to let him be a support system for me in all my endeavors, and me for him in all of his. 

Right now I am hired to teach creative classes at a craft store, though I haven't had any students yet -- and I don't feel properly trained for this position.  I have applied to teach English overseas and may be accepted to move and work in Mongolia for 11 months doing this, though there is a several thousand dollar sum I have to trust that God will provide for me to fund this endeavor.  I am currently working as a cashier doing retail, in a very much for-profit setting, which does not feel as fulfilling as it seems an altruistic career would.  I am not aware of schools in my area that offer the psychology classes I need at reasonable prices.  Most (if not all) art therapy schools require 12-18 units of psychology courses for me to be accepted.  I have 3 units that counted towards my BFA.  Those were from my AP test score.  I feel like I have in the past had small circles of great friends, but every time I move these friendships go from great to good, and after that they end up just being acquaintances until we completely lose touch.  I don't know anyone here well enough to have an inner circle of great friends.  Hence, there are no boys in this inner circle.
I feel like everything I most want in life is currently out of reach... the things that I do have right now are not exact fits for me.  I am not content.  Should I be content with ok or is it ok for me to want awesome?

while on caffeine...

This evening I hung out with people in an apartment watching 80s movies.  Awesome.  I probably drank four cups of coffee.  Then I drove 25 miles home.  I learned that driving on caffeine when my body is only tricked into thinking it's awake is a kind of scary thing.  Also, my tank was low, and I didn't want to stop for gas.  It requires much more focus than my typical to-and-from work autopilot.  I don't know what it's like to be drunk, but I'm sure that driving on caffeine and tired has at least a minorly similar effect.  It's just harder to concentrate on driving when I'm in a state where I can't fully focus... and if I am having trouble focusing it takes that much more energy to actually focus.

Age came up again tonight and I keep wondering why I always feel like I have to prove myself to be my age or older -- I didn't have to, and that wasn't really my focus, I just thought about it again.  It's like age is somehow an achievement.  Also, I'm not entirely sure what it means to be 23.  How am I supposed to act to be my age?  How am I supposed to look?  Why do people who come into my workplace think I'm in high school when I look at high school kids and they seem just like that to me - kids.  (Besides the fact that to even have my job I have to be at least 18.)  Why do I love throwing the "when I was in college" thing out there?  Oh wait, I do actually know that one -- Yes, ma'am, I may look 15 to you, but somehow I already graduated high school, and graduated college with... what was that?  a four year degree?  I'm either older than you think or I'm really dang smart... you choose. ;)

...

Sometimes a good cry is necessary.

Not so far away

I've been sort of going on a crochet kick lately.  I'm working on three afghans at once - one for a friend as a gift, the other two for fun.  (shh! My friend doesn't know.)  I'm excited to develop the hobby that has been dormant for a time, though part of my life for a good many years.  Right now I'm sort of crocheting, but mostly listening to music and thinking.  I'm in the sort of mood where I would love to go to a party... well, if the party came to me, you know.  I want to dance crazily with friends and listen to pounding music and not think about anything else.  But... I'm not much of a party person, really... I need people in my life to force me to do fun, social things.  I think that is one of the suckiest parts of moving to Dallas.  I don't really know anyone yet.  I'm beginning to make friends, at church and at work, but when I'm not at those places, I am basically on my own for fun.  It's ironic that I feel lonely a lot when I have 658 "friends" on my social networking site.  The problem I guess is that although most of them have been my friends in real life at one time or another, not many of them live near where I live in real life right now.  I'm not a social butterfly who knows how to put herself out there to find new people to have a good time with, and I guess I'm feeling the effects of that.  I re-state something I mused about some time ago, "I wish everywhere were in the same place; then, when you leave, you're not so far away"... or perhaps, "then, when I leave, I'm not so far away."

14 days.

In 14 days I will be 23.  Which is probably good, because at the beginning of each year I always start to think of myself as already also being another year older... alas, new year comes and I still have to wait two and a half months.  Well, now it's two weeks.  And I have no plans.  My family will all be out of town.  I don't know if I have work or not, but thinking of having my birthday alone is sad.  There are times that I really regret moving away from California, from a place I had come to know and enjoy.  I am optimistic about being here, in fact I think I mostly like it here, but I don't have the several years of friendship building to rely on here... I have had 7 months, all of which have been spent working.  non-stop.  it seems.  no social life.  There are days that I think I should just quit, that somehow not having a job would fix everything!  Yet, it's actually having a job that has kept me from going completely crazy.  I still haven't figured out this whole "no school" thing.  I have to replace that with something... and I can't just bum around my parents house forever, no matter how much they say and think that they would like me to stay.  There are famous people who were dead by 23, and they were famous!  I feel like my life has barely begun.  I recently acquired a book of letters Van Gogh wrote to his brother Theo, entitled: "Dear Theo" and was intrigued to realize that he was, at the beginning of the letters recorded there, 23, or about to turn 23.  At that point in his life, he seemed very optimistic about his future, but he also seemed to be testing out life and seeing where it might take him.  He was working in a parsonage teaching and preaching, and was underpaid because the parsonage could not really afford to pay him much, but room and board.  He mentioned this lack of pay and how he was looking into situations elsewhere -- man, so much like my life it seems.

I like the idea of 23, because it's older than 22 and another year removed from 21.  Although I don't get it much now, I am still sometimes told I look like I'm in high school.  For some reason I take devilish delight in saying, well, actually, I have a college degree, and I'm 22... (I'll be thrilled to say 23.)  Then I watch as they stand dumbfounded, slightly embarrassed, finally getting out a, "well, you'll be thankful when you're older."  And I just turn away and think about how people underestimate those who appear younger, something which I do not appreciate... and sometimes treat younger looking people like children -- which I also do not like.  I don't know why I like the idea of being older, but I'd much rather age than be the same forever, and though I like the idea of being a child again with far less responsibility than I have now, I do not wish to re-learn all the difficult lessons of growing up.

Like the smell of fresh tea or rain falling on the earth

It seems that a lately muddled mind is fading away. 
The gray is turning bright with sun. 
Maybe spring will be here soon.

I don't know if all my reminiscences really have to do with the weather, with the cold and dark, short days, or not, but I do know that the air isn't as cold and the sun is shining for longer every day, and somehow life is picking up and a smile is starting to dance on my face, or at least the face in my mind.

I've been in contact with ELIC working on an application, but I don't know if that is really where I am meant to go.  I don't feel particular peace about going, and staying is feeling more and more like a good and viable option.  Work is good - I'm still getting a decent number of hours each week despite the slow-down since the Holidays, and I recently was given the opportunity to try my hand at teaching some painting classes there.  We will see how that goes.  I'm simultaneously optimistic and nervous.  There are so many details that need to be worked out, and I feel like all the rest of my spare time will be eaten up, but this is something along the lines of my studies, and I should not let them be in vain.  I would love to do something with my art, but I feel like teaching classes really makes me vulnerable as a person.  Being a teacher sort of displays the teacher's shortcomings sometimes, falling short of the expectations of the students or falling short of self expectations.  I try not to be so chained to expectations and following through with what I believe those to be, but it's hard.  I like being at peace with myself and others, and I like being likeable.  Even selling my art makes me vulnerable.  This fear of how others will respond to me and my work, my lifeblood, really needs to be confronted.  Teaching art classes should help to confront it.  You know, this extra opportunity makes it even more difficult to just leave for somewhere else right now.  I have this constant urge to go-go-go, to be forever new and wandering and never really put down roots and get to know people.  I also have a desire for roots and relationships, but I think I am afraid to actually give in to that desire.  Constantly being uprooted is what I am used to and what has become comfortable, though sad and stressful.

But -- this is a happy post.  Life seems good right now.  My face and heart can share the same tune.  Maybe this is an ok place to be.

cowgirl wishings

When I was younger, I had a grand dream that I would buy property someday on the Yakima River (where my Grandma lived) in Washington State.  There I would own horses and start my own teddy bear factory business.  I was thinking again about the dream of horses.  I don't know now if I would really want to own and take care of my own horses unless that could somehow be my income-providing job rather than some side thing to do at the end of every long work day.  I typed into google: "mommy i want to be a cowgirl when i grow up" and came across a blog post which I link Here.  I related a lot to her sentiments of using horse-riding as a means of escape -- the idea of being able to just pack some saddle bags and ride away really resonated with me.  Still, I do think I would enjoy living and working on a ranch; wearing my hair in braids and having a reason to own a plethora of plaid shirts and to buy a good pair of cowgirl boots.  There's something about the stillness and beauty of nature and being in a place where, even with all the hard labor, one would be able to soak in its majesty.

"Benefits" of Having a Common Name

Well, anonymity.  You have to know more about me than my name to find me online.

There have been songs (or at least one) written about me...



Jennifer Johnson and Me
by Shel Silverstein

Deep in the pocket of a lost sport coat jacket,
I chanced to discover an old memory,
Three for a quarter, a black and white protrait,
Taken of Jennifer Johnson and me.

I'm in the corner with my collar open
Like some Latin lover on late night TV.
Sittin' right here with her head on my shoulder,
Jennifer Johnson, she's smiling at me.

It must have been summer, Nineteen Sixty Seven,
The Beatles were singin' that love's all you need.
I held her hand as we walked through the arcade,
Two young believers on a two dollar spree.

Three for a quarter, a black and white portrait.
Jen closed the curtain so no one could see.
Hey, kiss me quick, 'cause the red light is flashin'
Flashin' on Jennifer Johnson and me.

Waiting for that late night train back to Homewood,
I felt her warmth in the cool evenin' breeze,
Told her I'd probably love her forever,
Forever for Jennifer Johnson and me.

Three for a quarter, a black and white portrait,
Two young believers on a three dollar spree.
I saved the picture in my sportcoat pocket.
Jennifer Johnson, did you save one of me?

Three for a quarter, a black and white portrait,
Jen, close the curtain, so no one can see.
I saved the picture in my sportcoat pocket,
Jennifer Johnson, did you save one of me?

Read more at http://www.songmeanings.net/songs/view/3530822107858580560/#AzdvE4rkSblRlTH2.99

Also I found a book with my name in the title... "Jennifer Johnson is Sick of Being Single"... which many days is true.  I recently discovered that the author, Heather McElhatton, has written a sequel to this titled "Jennifer Johnson is Sick of Being Married."  I do hope someday to be married, but I certainly hope that I don't get sick of it... or if I do, that such could be worked out.

Some visual delights: