So, tonight was fun. After family home evening, Jamie, Kinsey, and I decided to do a G Double Header of the Jackie Chan movie "Gorgeous" and Gnocchi Soup. Talk about an absolutely wonderful night! We got to laugh and eat amazing tasting potato dumplings, not to mention I gained a new appreciation of the interesting realm of Chinese humor.
If you feel inclined, I've included the recipe for Gnocchi soup (the Kirstin variation). Have fun!
Saute in soup pan:
2 T fresh, chopped onions
2 T oil
Add:
1 quart chicken broth (can be watered down if you like)
2 cups thinly sliced carrots
1/2 t lemon juice
Italian seasoning to taste
Bring to a boil, let boil for 3-4 minutes (to soften carrots)
Add:
1 Package Gnocchi (approx. 3 cups)
Pre-cooked chicken (anywhere from 1/2 - 2 cups)
Boil until the Gnocchi float to the top, which should take 2-3 minutes. Then you dish it into a bowl, curl up with a good movie, and enjoy!
~~As a side note, yes I did my usual cleaning today. However, since I really attacked the bathroom it took my well into the afternoon and I didn't get to the kitchen. I was a very, very tired person by the time Jamie got home from classes. Our bathroom smells really nice currently, though, and even glistens in the right light. ^_^
Monday, September 21, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Finding Joy
I think, compared to a lot of people, I'm a relatively easy person to please. Many people have told me that I must lead a very exciting life or do a great deal when no one is looking, which just gives me a bit of a laugh. I learned something very important a long time ago: you should always do what you can to be happy, even if it is just a little thing every day. If nothing else, it took my stress levels down because I was no longer trying to be an impressive person.
For me, the ideal day is one that would perhaps seem boring to others. I'm happiest when I can get up, do laundry or sweep and mop, shower, make lunch, get ready for class the next day, spend time reading or writing, talk to friends, make dinner, and enjoy a good movie. Told you it was boring. Actually, in truth, that's my Monday ritual. I only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so the other days in my week are falling into a very particular, relaxing sort of schedule. Really, I... just love simplicity. Other people thrive off of the huge adventures, but the stress usually makes it difficult for me to enjoy that sort of thing.
And I will admit that I am not an exciting person. That's not my goal in life. What I am is a relatively happy person who is working on being absolutely joyful. Really, what more could you ask for in life?
For me, the ideal day is one that would perhaps seem boring to others. I'm happiest when I can get up, do laundry or sweep and mop, shower, make lunch, get ready for class the next day, spend time reading or writing, talk to friends, make dinner, and enjoy a good movie. Told you it was boring. Actually, in truth, that's my Monday ritual. I only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so the other days in my week are falling into a very particular, relaxing sort of schedule. Really, I... just love simplicity. Other people thrive off of the huge adventures, but the stress usually makes it difficult for me to enjoy that sort of thing.
And I will admit that I am not an exciting person. That's not my goal in life. What I am is a relatively happy person who is working on being absolutely joyful. Really, what more could you ask for in life?
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Stress
Honestly, I have to wonder how much more I can take.
If the past six years of emotional and psychological abuse were not enough, now I have to deal with them by going to therapy. It's not so bad, but... it feels a little useless. Sometimes I wonder if my therapist knows what he's doing, but I figure I might as well give it a while longer and see if things improve. If not... Well, I'm just not going to think that far.
Add to that the absolutely awful stress of knowing that, in reality, your future is not really in your control. My school randomly dropped a $600 charge on me today, and the entire matter sent me into such an angst-fit that Kinsey made me pasta-roni to make me feel better (which is saying something, since that's a very heavy comfort food). Money's just.... so frustrating. I could pay it all off at once if I had to, but... financial anxiety is something I can't seem to get rid of. It's something that constantly bothers me: the fear that I won't be able to pay for something. I mean, it really is one of the most awful feelings in the entire world. In my opinion, whoever put us on the monetary track should have been shot. It's just too much stress.
I'm upset, I know that much because my shoulders are so tense you could break iron on them, but I don't know what to do about it. Praying and napping seem like the best options at this point, and I'm just hoping the charge turns out to be a mistake. If not... Well, let's just hope that God provides a way.
If the past six years of emotional and psychological abuse were not enough, now I have to deal with them by going to therapy. It's not so bad, but... it feels a little useless. Sometimes I wonder if my therapist knows what he's doing, but I figure I might as well give it a while longer and see if things improve. If not... Well, I'm just not going to think that far.
Add to that the absolutely awful stress of knowing that, in reality, your future is not really in your control. My school randomly dropped a $600 charge on me today, and the entire matter sent me into such an angst-fit that Kinsey made me pasta-roni to make me feel better (which is saying something, since that's a very heavy comfort food). Money's just.... so frustrating. I could pay it all off at once if I had to, but... financial anxiety is something I can't seem to get rid of. It's something that constantly bothers me: the fear that I won't be able to pay for something. I mean, it really is one of the most awful feelings in the entire world. In my opinion, whoever put us on the monetary track should have been shot. It's just too much stress.
I'm upset, I know that much because my shoulders are so tense you could break iron on them, but I don't know what to do about it. Praying and napping seem like the best options at this point, and I'm just hoping the charge turns out to be a mistake. If not... Well, let's just hope that God provides a way.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
I liiiiiiiive!
So, I said I would write on Tuesday... Here we are on Sunday, and I am at least still alive! Heh, that has to count for something, right?
Well, the week has been an interesting one. Tuesday was extremely busy with a combination of Shakespeare Acting Styles, Shakespeare (English), and Directing I, and I couldn't be happier with it. The classes give me the opportunity to study plays more in depth, and I get to look really smart when I decide to comment. My professors (for the most part) are fantastic, and go out of their way to try to get us all excited about the material. It was kind of funny, but Professor Tvordi (SE) was so excited to have me in her class that she dropped my name no less than six times and kept looking at me through the hour. The rest of the class kept giving me funny looks, but I'm certainly going to try to give them reasonable cause to give me those funny looks. I want to learn as much as I can this semester, if only because it's so directly connected to what I want to do with the rest of my life.
Professor Sham (SAS) came into class and demanded that we all go to the Shakespeare plays that were finishing up this week, which instantly translated to free tickets for the entire class. Hooray! I went to "Henry V" on Tuesday night, "As You Like It" on Wednesday, and finished off the set with "Comedy of Errors." Out of them, "As You Like It" was definitely the best, though "Comedy of Errors" was surprisingly funny... I was impressed. "Henry V", however, was so dull that I fell asleep any time that the lead was not on stage (and even then, it was only a half-of-the-time thing). But, it was a good week. I'm still standing, and I will try to keep on top of my blog.
Well, the week has been an interesting one. Tuesday was extremely busy with a combination of Shakespeare Acting Styles, Shakespeare (English), and Directing I, and I couldn't be happier with it. The classes give me the opportunity to study plays more in depth, and I get to look really smart when I decide to comment. My professors (for the most part) are fantastic, and go out of their way to try to get us all excited about the material. It was kind of funny, but Professor Tvordi (SE) was so excited to have me in her class that she dropped my name no less than six times and kept looking at me through the hour. The rest of the class kept giving me funny looks, but I'm certainly going to try to give them reasonable cause to give me those funny looks. I want to learn as much as I can this semester, if only because it's so directly connected to what I want to do with the rest of my life.
Professor Sham (SAS) came into class and demanded that we all go to the Shakespeare plays that were finishing up this week, which instantly translated to free tickets for the entire class. Hooray! I went to "Henry V" on Tuesday night, "As You Like It" on Wednesday, and finished off the set with "Comedy of Errors." Out of them, "As You Like It" was definitely the best, though "Comedy of Errors" was surprisingly funny... I was impressed. "Henry V", however, was so dull that I fell asleep any time that the lead was not on stage (and even then, it was only a half-of-the-time thing). But, it was a good week. I'm still standing, and I will try to keep on top of my blog.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Nearly Dead but Still Alive
So, the past week has kind of been nightmarish.
Kinsey's summer roommate (one of her friends from junior high) didn't quite get the picture about leaving in the middle of August, which meant we just got her to move out this past Saturday. What did that mean for me? Spending nights trying to not go crazy while Kinsey was at work and I was stuck alone with the girl. Thankfully, she was pretty easy to appease if one ignored the subject of her cats. Oh, those cats... Bella, her properly named angsty female feline, thought it was appropriate to sleep on my bed (and Kierstan let her even when I asked her not to). The apartment also had taken on the distinct reek of cat over the summer... badly cared for cat. So, Jamie, Kinsey and I went on a cleaning frenzy. The carpets were cleaned, the dishes done, the cat litter changed, the floors mopped and swept, the furniture rearranged...while Kierstan watched movies.
I'm glad she's gone.
I've also been having a battle with my classes, since I have to try and balance things out just right. I will be finished with theatre this fall (I only needed seven more credits and I'll have eight), which means I just need to polish off my GEs and two English classes. However, I don't know if I can finish them all off next semester. There's a weird chance that I might not have enough electives to do it, about six or seven credits worth. I think I may use Maymester, if I have to. I just want to be done so I can get on to my Master's honestly.
It also was a hard week because I went to therapy for the first time. All week I've been keeping a list of things that trigger my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and it amazes me how it shows up. I can't even look at a certain color of green without my shoulders tensing up, and I had never noticed that until I started to look for it. I've got another appointment tomorrow, so we'll see how that goes.
But!
Not everything is doom and gloom. I'm so glad to be back in school that... there aren't words. Summer is a nice chance to take a break, sure, but I've missed the challenge that comes with university. There's nothing like having a Shakespeare double-header, which I get in the form of Shakespeare 4023 and Shakespeare Acting Styles. Tuesdays and Thursdays may kill me (with four classes) but I'm certainly going to have fun with it. If those don't get me, I'm sure Stage Combat might. Holy crap am I out of shape! Doing four laps around a basketball court did not used to be that hard. Luckily, my professor is determined I'm going to succeed and has given me orders to bring big waterbottles to class (I forgot it today).
Also, being with Kinsey and Jamie again is just great. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed them until summer hit. It's been like getting back to business and going somewhere that doesn't haunt me. That, and they are seriously two of the funnest people I know. We're going to be dangerous to our own healths, of this I am certain. I mean, yesterday we made Chicken Mozzarella and pasta for dinner. Can we say yummy?
Anyway, I should probably run. Kinsey wants to go home for lunch, which will probably be leftovers from yesterday. That, or strudel. Maybe... I guess I'll see when we get there.
I'll probably update tomorrow, just to let you know I survived all of my Shakespeare classes. I'm so excited that I may very well hurt myself...
Love you!
Kinsey's summer roommate (one of her friends from junior high) didn't quite get the picture about leaving in the middle of August, which meant we just got her to move out this past Saturday. What did that mean for me? Spending nights trying to not go crazy while Kinsey was at work and I was stuck alone with the girl. Thankfully, she was pretty easy to appease if one ignored the subject of her cats. Oh, those cats... Bella, her properly named angsty female feline, thought it was appropriate to sleep on my bed (and Kierstan let her even when I asked her not to). The apartment also had taken on the distinct reek of cat over the summer... badly cared for cat. So, Jamie, Kinsey and I went on a cleaning frenzy. The carpets were cleaned, the dishes done, the cat litter changed, the floors mopped and swept, the furniture rearranged...while Kierstan watched movies.
I'm glad she's gone.
I've also been having a battle with my classes, since I have to try and balance things out just right. I will be finished with theatre this fall (I only needed seven more credits and I'll have eight), which means I just need to polish off my GEs and two English classes. However, I don't know if I can finish them all off next semester. There's a weird chance that I might not have enough electives to do it, about six or seven credits worth. I think I may use Maymester, if I have to. I just want to be done so I can get on to my Master's honestly.
It also was a hard week because I went to therapy for the first time. All week I've been keeping a list of things that trigger my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and it amazes me how it shows up. I can't even look at a certain color of green without my shoulders tensing up, and I had never noticed that until I started to look for it. I've got another appointment tomorrow, so we'll see how that goes.
But!
Not everything is doom and gloom. I'm so glad to be back in school that... there aren't words. Summer is a nice chance to take a break, sure, but I've missed the challenge that comes with university. There's nothing like having a Shakespeare double-header, which I get in the form of Shakespeare 4023 and Shakespeare Acting Styles. Tuesdays and Thursdays may kill me (with four classes) but I'm certainly going to have fun with it. If those don't get me, I'm sure Stage Combat might. Holy crap am I out of shape! Doing four laps around a basketball court did not used to be that hard. Luckily, my professor is determined I'm going to succeed and has given me orders to bring big waterbottles to class (I forgot it today).
Also, being with Kinsey and Jamie again is just great. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed them until summer hit. It's been like getting back to business and going somewhere that doesn't haunt me. That, and they are seriously two of the funnest people I know. We're going to be dangerous to our own healths, of this I am certain. I mean, yesterday we made Chicken Mozzarella and pasta for dinner. Can we say yummy?
Anyway, I should probably run. Kinsey wants to go home for lunch, which will probably be leftovers from yesterday. That, or strudel. Maybe... I guess I'll see when we get there.
I'll probably update tomorrow, just to let you know I survived all of my Shakespeare classes. I'm so excited that I may very well hurt myself...
Love you!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Breaking Up Is Hard To Do
No, this is not about a boyfriend. Sadly, I seem to have a particular lack of those over the past few years.
No, this is about a friend. Well... yes, friend probably would be the best word to describe things.
The amazing thing about college is that suddenly you are thrown in with a group of people who know nothing about you, have no expectations of your personality, and are just as scared as you are. This is a great chance to live up to your own hopes of becoming a better person and really cleaning off the slate. That was the first thing that really endeared college to me, if only because I had spent so many years before that building a persona and keeping good people away from me.
At school, I was able to make a group of friends who would shape the next few years of my life--and will have created a change that will last all of my life. Of the original group, though, I am only friends with two of them now. It's a very peculiar thing, to not be friends any more.
I suppose I'll go into storytime, if only for my own benefit. The stories, I don't think, will have as much impact on you.
The first friend I made at college was a girl who goes by the handle of Shematite online. I had moved in a little early (due to being on the Freshman Housing Board) and everything was... absolutely lonely. When I walked past her door, her nametag fell off. So, I picked it up and knocked, hoping she would be in. Shematite seemed amazed to see another person, and when I heard Nightwish blaring from her computer we got talking. It was wonderful, like I had found someone I could honestly relate to. We became such fast friends in that week that people assumed we had known each other for years instead of days. It was wonderful. She was a writer just as much as me, and we had a million things in common.
But there were times, though, when things didn't work. She would randomly disappear into her room for hours, occasionally days, and would never come out. It was heartbreaking, especially since we could tell something was wrong and she would never talk about it. Well, in the coming school year Shematite, Kit, and I decided to live together because we got along so well. We'd found the perfect place that had great rent--even if I would have to share a room for the first time in my life (Shematite couldn't stand to share a room, so I had to). When it came time for classes, though, Shematite finally sat us down and told us she wasn't registered. She couldn't afford school, but had moved down to Cedar anyway. We were hurt and confused, wondering why she hadn't talked to us about it. Then came the waves of sickness, which would follow anyone in the house getting sick and lasting for weeks after. It only got worse and worse until, at last, Shematite (we presume) got fired from her job because she never went. And then she was admitted to the hospital.
She was gone within the week, not really bothering to say goodbye or anything. I was hurt by it, hurt to the point that I did some stupid things. When she would bother to email, however rarely, I would be a bit snipey in return and never let her forget that she had run out on us. Eventually, thankfully, I did get past this point, and I tried to get her talking to me again. But she is the same old Shematite.
We invited her to come to Harry Potter, as a sort of reunion of the old gang, and she agreed to come. Two hours before the midnight screening we had tickets to, she texted to tell us her parents had taken both cars to Brigham. We wondered why she hadn't told them she was coming. I consider that friendship dead, though it has never officially been declared that in so many words. I figure it is for the best, though, because she clearly has issues she needs to work out and I have things in my own life I need to change. I wish Shematite the best, especially as far as her health goes, but I honestly don't think I will ever see her again. Consider it a gut feeling.
A more gruesome story concerns another person I counted a friend: Zach. He was a return missionary who came back for spring semester and lived on the floor below ours. I met him in my History of Theatre 2 class, and we immediately hit it off. Zach was a warm person, quiet and thoughtful, and remained my friend up until this past spring semester. Suddenly, it was like he had disappeared off the face of the planet. There is no chance of my talking to him again, though, as he attempted to murder two of his friends earlier in the summer. Honestly, I am just glad that it was not me or someone I was close to. It's scary to realize that a person can change and be so frightening without your knowing it.
Another, Mike, is really not to be blamed for our loss of contact. He went on a mission, and I am rather horrible at writing. Once in a while we still email, but it feels very much like I am talking to a suit and tie rather than the friend I knew. It's... disturbing, in a way, but he is having great success. Mike will do great things, I'm certain.
The last is probably the most painful. I met Rori at the college dorms, not too horribly long after I met Shematite. We didn't particularly hit it off at first--I don't really remember how we became friends at all. She was the outgoing blond with a plastic smile, and I was the surly brunette who somehow made the table crack up with laughter. But, we became close and even started to write together. For that, I will be eternally grateful. Rori helped me develop some of the greatest characters I will ever have, and she also helped me find the weakness in my own character. However, the discovery of my weaknesses came through the worst form: exploitation of them. Rori and I could bring out the worst in each other, everything from struggles with religion and sexuality to how anxious we could be. Most of the time, things worked very well. We would ignore the bad and enjoy the good while it lasted.
But, things just got to the point of being too much lately.
I recently prayed to find a way to work past all of the negativity in my life. Between my struggles with abuse, my horrid health, fights with friends, work, and religion, I felt like I was drowning. Then, out of the seeming blue, Rori stopped talking to me. I knew she was avoiding me, and I could feel the coming conversation--it was just a matter of how long it would take to break. Today... today was the day.
I don't know if you've ever broken up with a friend before, it is a rather strange experience. We agreed that we were not the best people to be friends at this point in our lives, and thought it would be best to... just not be in contact until things are better. I know that I need to clean my life up a great deal--I have struggles that are so personal only the Lord and I know about them. I also know that there is a lot she needs to do, which she can't do with me as a friend. So, for now at least, we're just... acquaintances with a history. It will be for the best, I know it. It just hurts like nothing else. Time and the Lord, though, will make things work out in the end. Everything will be okay as long as I do the work I am supposed to do.
And if Rori and I never get to being close friends again? Well, then it was not meant to be. I'm only twenty; there is a lot of life left to be explored. I am certain that I will make more friends in my life, and that things will get better. If nothing else, I am on the road to change.
I'm grateful that I got to have these friends at all, that they were able to come into my life. Because of them, I have a great novel that I hope to finish and publish, memories and stories that I'll gladly tell my kids, and knowledge about myself I otherwise would not have. Sometimes, that is all you can hope for when a friendship has to be put on the shelf.
I just hope I become the sort of person that is really worth being friends with. Things are not going to be easy in the midst of all of the coming adjustment, but I know I can survive it--I just may cry a little more.
I love you all, even those that have been put on the shelf. God bless you all, and may the path we walk be only as bumpy as it needs to be.
No, this is about a friend. Well... yes, friend probably would be the best word to describe things.
The amazing thing about college is that suddenly you are thrown in with a group of people who know nothing about you, have no expectations of your personality, and are just as scared as you are. This is a great chance to live up to your own hopes of becoming a better person and really cleaning off the slate. That was the first thing that really endeared college to me, if only because I had spent so many years before that building a persona and keeping good people away from me.
At school, I was able to make a group of friends who would shape the next few years of my life--and will have created a change that will last all of my life. Of the original group, though, I am only friends with two of them now. It's a very peculiar thing, to not be friends any more.
I suppose I'll go into storytime, if only for my own benefit. The stories, I don't think, will have as much impact on you.
The first friend I made at college was a girl who goes by the handle of Shematite online. I had moved in a little early (due to being on the Freshman Housing Board) and everything was... absolutely lonely. When I walked past her door, her nametag fell off. So, I picked it up and knocked, hoping she would be in. Shematite seemed amazed to see another person, and when I heard Nightwish blaring from her computer we got talking. It was wonderful, like I had found someone I could honestly relate to. We became such fast friends in that week that people assumed we had known each other for years instead of days. It was wonderful. She was a writer just as much as me, and we had a million things in common.
But there were times, though, when things didn't work. She would randomly disappear into her room for hours, occasionally days, and would never come out. It was heartbreaking, especially since we could tell something was wrong and she would never talk about it. Well, in the coming school year Shematite, Kit, and I decided to live together because we got along so well. We'd found the perfect place that had great rent--even if I would have to share a room for the first time in my life (Shematite couldn't stand to share a room, so I had to). When it came time for classes, though, Shematite finally sat us down and told us she wasn't registered. She couldn't afford school, but had moved down to Cedar anyway. We were hurt and confused, wondering why she hadn't talked to us about it. Then came the waves of sickness, which would follow anyone in the house getting sick and lasting for weeks after. It only got worse and worse until, at last, Shematite (we presume) got fired from her job because she never went. And then she was admitted to the hospital.
She was gone within the week, not really bothering to say goodbye or anything. I was hurt by it, hurt to the point that I did some stupid things. When she would bother to email, however rarely, I would be a bit snipey in return and never let her forget that she had run out on us. Eventually, thankfully, I did get past this point, and I tried to get her talking to me again. But she is the same old Shematite.
We invited her to come to Harry Potter, as a sort of reunion of the old gang, and she agreed to come. Two hours before the midnight screening we had tickets to, she texted to tell us her parents had taken both cars to Brigham. We wondered why she hadn't told them she was coming. I consider that friendship dead, though it has never officially been declared that in so many words. I figure it is for the best, though, because she clearly has issues she needs to work out and I have things in my own life I need to change. I wish Shematite the best, especially as far as her health goes, but I honestly don't think I will ever see her again. Consider it a gut feeling.
A more gruesome story concerns another person I counted a friend: Zach. He was a return missionary who came back for spring semester and lived on the floor below ours. I met him in my History of Theatre 2 class, and we immediately hit it off. Zach was a warm person, quiet and thoughtful, and remained my friend up until this past spring semester. Suddenly, it was like he had disappeared off the face of the planet. There is no chance of my talking to him again, though, as he attempted to murder two of his friends earlier in the summer. Honestly, I am just glad that it was not me or someone I was close to. It's scary to realize that a person can change and be so frightening without your knowing it.
Another, Mike, is really not to be blamed for our loss of contact. He went on a mission, and I am rather horrible at writing. Once in a while we still email, but it feels very much like I am talking to a suit and tie rather than the friend I knew. It's... disturbing, in a way, but he is having great success. Mike will do great things, I'm certain.
The last is probably the most painful. I met Rori at the college dorms, not too horribly long after I met Shematite. We didn't particularly hit it off at first--I don't really remember how we became friends at all. She was the outgoing blond with a plastic smile, and I was the surly brunette who somehow made the table crack up with laughter. But, we became close and even started to write together. For that, I will be eternally grateful. Rori helped me develop some of the greatest characters I will ever have, and she also helped me find the weakness in my own character. However, the discovery of my weaknesses came through the worst form: exploitation of them. Rori and I could bring out the worst in each other, everything from struggles with religion and sexuality to how anxious we could be. Most of the time, things worked very well. We would ignore the bad and enjoy the good while it lasted.
But, things just got to the point of being too much lately.
I recently prayed to find a way to work past all of the negativity in my life. Between my struggles with abuse, my horrid health, fights with friends, work, and religion, I felt like I was drowning. Then, out of the seeming blue, Rori stopped talking to me. I knew she was avoiding me, and I could feel the coming conversation--it was just a matter of how long it would take to break. Today... today was the day.
I don't know if you've ever broken up with a friend before, it is a rather strange experience. We agreed that we were not the best people to be friends at this point in our lives, and thought it would be best to... just not be in contact until things are better. I know that I need to clean my life up a great deal--I have struggles that are so personal only the Lord and I know about them. I also know that there is a lot she needs to do, which she can't do with me as a friend. So, for now at least, we're just... acquaintances with a history. It will be for the best, I know it. It just hurts like nothing else. Time and the Lord, though, will make things work out in the end. Everything will be okay as long as I do the work I am supposed to do.
And if Rori and I never get to being close friends again? Well, then it was not meant to be. I'm only twenty; there is a lot of life left to be explored. I am certain that I will make more friends in my life, and that things will get better. If nothing else, I am on the road to change.
I'm grateful that I got to have these friends at all, that they were able to come into my life. Because of them, I have a great novel that I hope to finish and publish, memories and stories that I'll gladly tell my kids, and knowledge about myself I otherwise would not have. Sometimes, that is all you can hope for when a friendship has to be put on the shelf.
I just hope I become the sort of person that is really worth being friends with. Things are not going to be easy in the midst of all of the coming adjustment, but I know I can survive it--I just may cry a little more.
I love you all, even those that have been put on the shelf. God bless you all, and may the path we walk be only as bumpy as it needs to be.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Catharsis In A Can
You know, there is something amazing about a can of paint and a roller. At first they seem like just simple things, nothing more than pigment and something to spread it with. But then you start to think about what you can do with paint: change the feel of a room, banish memories of someone who hurt you, make yourself feel better... It's magic.
Today I got a bit of my own catharsis by painting Phillip's former bedroom a bright shade of yellow. Oh, it's not too bright... more of a pastel yellow than anything. It was so wonderful, though. Suddenly it was not his room, but instead the room where Mom was going to do her painting. It was a room full of brightness and hope, and no trace of him. Even his furniture got pulled out. Do you know how much better that makes me feel? He has no room to come back to, now, and that means he is not going to be coming home.
I don't ever want him to.
Dad sometimes talks like he will, that it will just be a matter of time. If Phillip comes home, though, they simply won't see me again. I'll refuse to step foot into that house again.
As it is, I am considering doing something with my room, too. Right now it looks like the corner of the house where I was just slipped into as an afterthought. I plan on changing that. Moving a few bookcases, rearranging the room, adding some better lighting, and (of course) painting that walls will make it much better. Hopefully I will feel more like I belong with all of the changes, which is what I have been longing for. This house never really felt like home, but... it's starting to.
In other news, I got a new beta today. After Larry the Unquenchable Sea Monster died (after two wonderful years together) I did not get another fish, but today... Well, it just seemed like a great time to have a new beginning. His name is Katsu (meaning "victorious") and he is a dark blue, teal, crimson, and green crown beta fish. At the moment he is investigating the plant in his bowl, and looks as happy as can be. I'm very excited. Hopefully we'll have a great two years together. If I can manage it, I will try to get pictures of him up in the near future.
Love you all!
Today I got a bit of my own catharsis by painting Phillip's former bedroom a bright shade of yellow. Oh, it's not too bright... more of a pastel yellow than anything. It was so wonderful, though. Suddenly it was not his room, but instead the room where Mom was going to do her painting. It was a room full of brightness and hope, and no trace of him. Even his furniture got pulled out. Do you know how much better that makes me feel? He has no room to come back to, now, and that means he is not going to be coming home.
I don't ever want him to.
Dad sometimes talks like he will, that it will just be a matter of time. If Phillip comes home, though, they simply won't see me again. I'll refuse to step foot into that house again.
As it is, I am considering doing something with my room, too. Right now it looks like the corner of the house where I was just slipped into as an afterthought. I plan on changing that. Moving a few bookcases, rearranging the room, adding some better lighting, and (of course) painting that walls will make it much better. Hopefully I will feel more like I belong with all of the changes, which is what I have been longing for. This house never really felt like home, but... it's starting to.
In other news, I got a new beta today. After Larry the Unquenchable Sea Monster died (after two wonderful years together) I did not get another fish, but today... Well, it just seemed like a great time to have a new beginning. His name is Katsu (meaning "victorious") and he is a dark blue, teal, crimson, and green crown beta fish. At the moment he is investigating the plant in his bowl, and looks as happy as can be. I'm very excited. Hopefully we'll have a great two years together. If I can manage it, I will try to get pictures of him up in the near future.
Love you all!
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