But I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things.

Precious lovelies, I have things to say. I heard someone say the other day that all of our dreams will be fulfilled somehow, eventually, at some point throughout our lifetimes, though likely not in the way, shape, form, or time we had originally imagined. But fulfilled, nonetheless. This came as a relief to me, as I have plenty of dreams. Too many to the point that I wonder if any of them will happen in the particular time frames that I desire. But the good news is that I have, more so than ever before, begun to gain a firm handle on who I am. More and more now, I am comfortable with myself, confident of my own dreams, and certain of what I want and who I want it all with. I am reaching a point now, where even though the next few steps are foggy, I am sure of which one I stand on now.

My recent thoughts and ponderings have been centered on graduation and what next and such, among other things. I have plans. Aspirations I'm in the process of reaching. The big ones, Europe, teaching, moving around, travel. Then comes the "what after that?" And truth be told, I'm not sure. It's a case of "what shouldn't I do after that?" I want to do everything. A few days ago, some of my friends brought up the idea of Boston. Boston? I don't know where that came from, but immediately, the thought of it washed over me so pleasantly, I had no reason to turn my nose up at it. Graduate school is also an option. Alabama has a creative writing program that is phenomenal. If I get accepted, full tuition, two additional stipends, and health insurance. Um, yes please. Then seminary. Honestly, if I had known how much I would love the classes in my minor, I would have gone to a school that allowed me to major in it. But I love the W, and I love English just as much. But more than that, at the moment, I want to travel and teach English as a second language. I want to go everywhere. And ultimately, I want to settle down somewhere in a Nashville-ish area (preferably Nashville) in an old house with a big porch for coffee in the mornings, reading during the rain, and jam sessions at night.

And here's the crazy part, y'all. I'm finally beginning to accept that if I want to do something, I can do it. Over the past several months, it's been like a dimmer switch where I finally realized that I don't have to sit here and let things happen TO me and jostle me and my self around. So much great advice has been compiled by my professors over the years, but this one gem will stick to the forefront of my mind: "If you want to do something, then do it! Quit complaining about how you're too old and too much time has gone by." So. It's up to me to make this happen. I will be hurt, I know. But I will find so much more that will make it all worth it. And if I believe I will find that, I will find it.

I just need to get over this hurdle. Whatever mysterious road block that causes me to clench my teeth to the point that my dentist is freaked out, lose hair to the point that my stylist brings it up, and lose weight to the point that I don't really care so much. Why am I this stressed? I don't know. And not knowing is stressing me. I really do feel fine. Relaxed, even. And when I wake up, I don't feel deprived of sleep at all. But I still have that slight pang greeting me in my jaw and gums that say they've been busy while I dreamed.

For some reason, a certain memory has popped up in my mind in recent days. I have had my heart set on Nashville since I was a little girl. Not sure why exactly. It was just one of those things that's always been in the back of my mind. When I graduated high school, my dear aunt took me to this music city for a few days, and I loved it all. But the evening I adored more than anything, was the night we went to the Bluebird Cafe. Seventeen songwriters, y'all. Seventeen. Each one doing two or three songs. My aunt and I had gotten there late, so there were no tables left, and as I was seventeen at the time, we couldn't sit at the bar. So I took my spot on a cabinet behind the hostess stand, and my aunt had the stool in front of it. That was where we ate our food and watched the show for those lovely long hours. I really don't understand why that has been on my thoughts lately, but I do miss it. I miss live music. I want to go find it again. We were happy together once, and maybe we can be happy together again.

Nothing is ever lost to us as long as we remember it

The days have rolled into a lull. And I am more than okay with this, mostly because I know that this lull will not last. In a matter of weeks I will be back into the routine that I have known and grown to love, a routine that has been mine for nearly four years. It will be the last of this routine for me. Graduation looms on my horizon, and I'm at the point now where I don't know how I feel about it. We've been in this long-distance relationship for a while now, I'm nervous about how well we will be acquainted when we finally meet. I'm excited, though, and I've been waiting and looking ahead this whole time. I know I'll be ready to leave. There may be a pull in my heart towards this place and these years, but there will be no desire to stay.
In every season of my life, I have been as eager to leave when it was over as my heart has been melded to everything associated with it while I was there.

I've never had any trouble attaching myself to people, places, and times. If ever there was any struggle, it was simply in the expressing of such felt attachments. If I could, I would send out a big I LOVE YOU to every soul and moment that so touched my life while I was in its presence. I love you for being gracious in allowing me to be near. In allowing me to sit on your green lawn and cry on your pillowcases under your windowsills. I love you for cooking for me and letting me sleep on your couch and ride with you. I love you for showing me what I didn't know and exposing me to something greater. I love you for holding my hand and paying for my dinner. I love you for laughing with me and at me, and for playing the music for that time of my life. I love you because you know what I don't and see what I don't, and because you love what I'm learning to love. I love you for your smiles and your precious faces. For your innocence and your experience.

Dear old world, you are lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.

Days come when I wonder "Why am I here?" and I can't focus on anything because of that question. And then days end when a boy wants to walk me home because he's a nice boy, and for no other reason. When I reach those days where I feel like I'm losing the grip on who I am, it's refreshing to have someone else say "Your existence matters." Even if it's in the form of "Let me get some shoes and I'll walk you back." Or, It's late, and you shouldn't get raped and murdered on your way back. Whatever. I still like knowing that selfless people exist.

Also, classes are in full swing, and I still have a hard time believing that I'm back at school. 12 hours. Slow. I need papers and tests and assignments and grades. I need that stress to be in my head to say "Hey you better work hard or you'll fail and you'll be a failure for the rest of your life and your whole future will be screwed if you don't make an A on this test." I love college.

i've still never had creme brulee.

But every time I watch Amelie, I sure wish I had some. The Honey Trees are singing to me right now. I have successfully completed one page of each of the 4-page papers I have due next week. One for Wednesday and one for Thursday. I have successfully completed the three page rough draft I have due for Monday, and I've yet to study for either of my tests on Monday. Although I did make my study guides for those tests. I just have yet to look at them . . . .

No worries though. I am exactly where I planned to be. And that rarely happens.

Right now I'd just like to curl up in my grandma's afghan and knit my scarf while drinking my tea and watching . . . well I don't know exactly . . . I guess Amelie or having someone read to me. Perhaps something from H.D. or the book I'm trying to get through right now that doesn't pertain to college, The Elegance of the Hedgehog. Marvelous book. It makes me feel smart, and I'd really love to just finish it though I still have about a third of it left.

I miss those January days where I'd curl up in my dorm room and read Harry Potter and feel no guilt whatsoever about not doing homework because none of my books had arrived yet. So long ago . . . last year.

Also, I decided tonight . . . or like two minutes ago . . . that I want to be that person that no one really knows but recognizes. That person with a title because I have one distinguishing feature. I don't know. Like "that girl with the red tights" or "that chick with the moon boots" or "that lady who always wears plaid." I just think that would be cool for a little while. Or something. So one day in the future I will move to a new city far away and buy myself some red tights and wear them every day for a month. Okay, I'll buy several pairs and wash them.

Milk, eggs, vodka...

I'm back at school, and I missed everybody and everything. I'm excited about my classes. I love reading and writing, and that's pretty much all my homework! And taped to the wall right next to my desk and computer is the brochure for the Abbey program in the Loire Valley in France, just two hours from Paris and Pontlevoy! It's good to constantly be reminded of my goals. So no frivolous shopping or road trips:( Unless anyone else wants to pay? Just a suggestion...

Also, I was quite awake at 2:30 this afternoon when I arrived at my dorm, and after an hour and a half of unpacking and rearranging and settling myself, I'm ready to drop into bed. After Taco Bell. But I won't buy a lot. Just a drink. And maybe one taco. Just one. Maybe Roommate's presence just wears me out. *wink*

Also-also, I just found Pandora. Thanks for all the "You have to get on pandora"s. I am now. But just the free kind. I must say it's nice. I offer a big thankyou to the inventor of this great invention. Though you probably don't need it in addition to all your new moneys and stuffs. But thanks just the same. Right now I'm listening to "One Headlight" by The Wallflowers (I do like that song) on the station invented when I searched The Hush Sound. Hmmm...

We can drive home with one headlight.

Book everyone should read (or at least flip through): Milk, Eggs, Vodka: Grocery Lists Lost and Found. You will never be the same, and you will never view you fellow grocery shoppers the same way either.
Background. So this guy from the midwest or whatever has a strange hobby and eventually made a book out of it. Y'all, it isn't tiny. Christmas present courtesy of Little Sister.
Strange hobby indeed. But I am not against strange hobbies. I say if you find something fascinating or interesting and you love to do it, by all means (well not unpleasant means if you can avoid it) do it! It is a belief of mine that if you can apply yourself to something that is not a requirement of your job, family, or classes, you will be a far more well-rounded person. When we do things just for fun, we discover so much because we want to. Just like a guy who scouts grocery parking lots across America, we can find adventure. And just think of the good he has accomplished. By collecting these lost pieces of paper, he's being green. Then he's using these discarded fragments of a person's day to make the rest of America laugh.

I do love to laugh.