Contemplations While the Breadsticks Are in The Oven

I hate opening. I mean. How do you lead into thoughts that have already been led into?

Deep. I know.

Now. While you're pondering on THAT zinger-ma-bob let me distract you with the thoughts that I have already led into a semi-conclusion. Semi? Yes. Because no matter what I decide on now, it can always be changed later on depending on circumstance, realization of truer options, development of cynicism, yada yada.

Lately I've had a stronger fascination of stars than usual. I've always loved the stars and all things that lay in our human perception of the sky. Think about what those stars mean. Does their existence strike any emotion in you? Do you feel awed? Insignificant? Apathetic? I feel great when I look at them. I love the stars because I exist. Just like they do. True. They may not all still be producing gas and heat and all that lovely space goodness that is a star, but the light that they produce still exists. That's good enough for me.

And. Along with the stars, we exist with people. I know that's an obvious statement, but from the way people act it's probably pretty new to most of us. We don't realize that we MEAN something. To everyone. Someone. Me. You. Her. Him. Anyone.

You. Have power. Don't underestimate it. You have the power to affect other people's lives for the better. And the worse. You could help that frail old woman pull all 18 jars of Red Raspberry preserves from the Publix shelf that she couldn't reach because of her scoliosis. Or you could say the wrong word that could just be the last straw on the already breaking back of a figurative camel.

One word. One look. That's all it takes.

Our existence is so important that we must work and work incredibly hard to remember that so is everyone else's.

If people would realize that, I think that we would ALL think twice before we did anything.

That piece of trash you threw on the ground? Yeah. That piece of trash along with all the other seemingly insignificant pieces are now clogging the drainage pipes and are causing all of the roads to flood. Try getting home now.

That kid you just laughed at for falling off of his bike? He has equilibrium problems, but is determined to rise above any obstacles that come before him. Is that not good enough for you?

The bald girl with the puffy cheeks? She has cancer and will never be able to live the life she wants. Or the life you have.

Now. I want to turn our minds back to the stars. I want you to think about all of the stars you can see when out in the wilderness and far away from light pollution. Now. I want you to think of the city you live in. (Or closest to. Pick your poison.) How many stars can you see now?

What are we doing to ourselves and the millions of people around us? We're taking the things that are made by humanity and glorifying them so much that we cover the stars.

Don't get me wrong. It is fascinating to me that we have the power to cover the sky with our light. However. I would much rather see what belongs in the sky. Not what we are putting there.

What Really Matters?

I was talking to my roommate the other day about what I was going to be wearing to an activity and then I started talking about why we care so much about so many things that really, when you think about it, don't matter. She then asked me if it were possible for me to think of anything without turning it into something deep or philosophical. I'm pretty sure I said pizza, but if you give me enough time, I could change that, too.

After fretting about which shoes or hat I was going to wear (it wasn't a matter of choosing which matches best, but worst) I started to wonder out loud why we, as humans, started to care so much about things that are so insignificant. She asked for an example and I just pointed to myself with my plaid paper boy hat, red shirt, vest, jeans and orange high tops. Point made.

Think about it. Does it really matter that I'm wearing orange shoes with a red t-shirt? Is it really going to change anything other than the opinion of a few people that I have never met before? Those who know me already know who I am and I don't really care about what anyone else thinks.

My goal in life is not to impress a bunch of strangers. No. It's to be who I am and only worry about what God thinks of me. My opinion of myself isn't even that important, because I know that if I am doing my best to be who He wants me to be, I don't have to worry, because I KNOW I'll be a better person than anyone I could ever be if I were only trying to impress the world.

Now, just because I feel that way about myself does not mean that I expect everyone to agree. I know that dressing up and looking nice is important to a lot of people. Just because I don't wear make-up does not mean that I'm going to judge you for wearing it. I live my life my way and you live yours your own way. There are times that I will bring up issues that I believe are harming a good friend, but only as an expression of concern. The choice is never mine to make.

But yeah, have you ever wondered why it is that we worry about things like how to match our clothing? If you think about it it doesn't really make all that much sense. Or maybe I just don't care enough to think that it is important?

Why does it matter whether or not we have fancy phones that keep us constantly connected to the world and therefore paranoid that we are missing out on some seemingly vital information on how to cook the perfect fried egg. Or about Taylor Swift's most recent heartbreak. WHY DOES IT MATTER??? If you were besties with Taylor, yeah, that would be important, because your best friend is going through a major heart break, but most of us are NOT best friends with her and frankly we don't need to know. Or why is it announced every time two actresses are wearing the same dress in the same week. Would I care about someone else sporting a threadless t-shirt that I own? Not really. In fact, I'd probably get excited.

Life is hard enough as it is. Sometimes worrying about little things takes up way too much effort.

A Tribute to the Letta-Mobile

The most depressing view I've seen in a long time was seeing my car in the side-mirror of the tow truck that was driving me and the Letta-mobile back to my home. It's probably the head gasket that is the problem and I'm afraid it'll cost more than what the car is worth.

Anyone who has ridden in the car with me knows what a piece of crap it is, but it has so much character and has been my constant friend these past 20 months.

I hate thinking that I might have to replace it. Or just say goodbye. No replacement. I don't really have the money to buy a replacement car, maybe not even the repairs for Felix. (HIS name is FELIX, Jess. I know what your opinion is.) Especially right now that I have to pay for tuition and such.

Luckily I'm within walking distance to the university and I own a rain jacket. Two vitals while living in Central Florida. I also have a bike, but I need to get a bike lock for that. My last one fell off while I was biking to class. I've also taken a liking to walking lately, so I think I'll be fine.

Let me tell you a little bit about this car. I first got it at the very beginning of the coolest road trip I had ever been on. I picked up the car from my sister in Portland and drove it back down to Tallahassee. We took 3 weeks to make the trip. It was amazing. I got to see so much of America.

Then I packed all of my stuff into that tiny little Honda Civic and moved to Orlando.

That car is the reason I have been able to serve as much as I have. I spent more of my time in that car for other people than I have for myself. The only time I would consistently be by myself was when I was going to school or to Tallahassee to visit. I don't regret it. I've learned so much about people and myself that I would have never learned otherwise. I've made some great friends because I was so willing to drive others around.

I know it's kind of silly to post a tribute to a car, but there's really so much more to it than that.

I am so grateful that I ever had it.

Yeah, it's 17 years old. But, it had the most character out of any car I've ever been in.

Yeah, it doesn't have a radio 'cuz some jerk stole it and the only reason I haven't replaced it is because part of the dashboard was taken with it. But I learned to appreciate silence because of it.

Yeah, it was a little annoying to drive a stick shift in Orlando traffic. But I've gotten so good at driving stick that some people that have been in my car many times don't even realize that it is a manual.

Yeah, it majorly needs a new paint job. But the bumper stickers are the best part.

Yeah, it sounded like a pod racer whenever I braked. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm really hoping that I don't have to say good-bye to him just yet, but what happens, happens.

The hardest part for me, honestly is going to be me asking for rides. I hate asking for help.

No Titles For Me!

Today someone told me that she finally figured me out. At first I was confused, but then she went on to explain her idea of who I am. This is what she said,

You're confident in who you are. You're quiet and shy. You're kind. And you're awesome and I love you. And you're honest. Even when it's awkward.

Now. Let me tell you what I was thinking the whole time driving home after she said that.

Yeah. I am confident in who I am, but only to a certain point. I hate it when people put expectations on me - a problem from my upbringing that is for another day- so I've learned to only follow the expectations that I have of myself.

Quiet and shy? Sure took you some time to figure that one out... I'm really bad at talking, so I don't talk unless I know you pretty well. And that takes some time.

Kind... I guess... I find it hard to understand what it is to be kind. Actually I don't understand a lot of things, but that's not the point. What is being kind? Is it doing something for someone else because they need/want it? Is it sacrificing your time, strength, know-how, patience or money even though you would rather keep it for yourself? Is it controlling your initial reaction to ill thoughts and actions of other, responding calmly and collectedly? Is it putting yourself last? Is it learning to love, like our Saviour and Heavenly Father would love? Whichever it is, I'm working on it. It's not something I was born with, trust me.

Awesome. WHAT THE HECK DOES THAT MEAN???? I do things because I think it's fun. Not because it makes me awesome. Once again, I hardly care what people think of me. That's all.

And yeah. I try to be honest almost to the point of a fault. Mostly because I don't realize that saying my opinion can hurt people. A lot of people appreciate it, even if it is really awkward, and everyone else doesn't know how to handle it. I just say things how I really feel because speaking is a difficult enough task for me that I don't want to have to put in even more effort to curb my words for the sake of not risking anything. I would probably just give up talking in all if it took that much effort.

I normally hate it when people tell me about myself, but for some reason this time it was okay. Maybe it was the person, or maybe it was because she didn't say that she wished she had something that I did. She just said it. And I was okay with that.

When I tell people that I am an artist I usually get the response, "That's so cool! I wish I could draw!" and I normally respond with, "Yeah, I used to say the same thing." Because I did! I was HORRIBLE at drawing. I was even worse when it came to color! I had little to no creative talent. I was only good at math and science. But, drawing was something that I wanted to learn, so I learned. Let me tell you - it was no easy task. I have thousands of drawings from the past six years and only about .2% of them are part way decent. But I never gave up. This is what I did for EVERY single thing that I have. Some things were easier to work towards, it's true, but none of it was free.

Little Bit of Thanks. Little Bit of Ramble

I'm really surprised and touched by all the people who read my last post and commented/ told me that they read it. Although I don't really know how to reply to the latter... So, if I don't reply don't take offense.

On another note. I just finished some pretty good sushi. If you want to make me happy, sushi's a way to do it.

On to the main thought of the day:

I have an idea for a story that might be slightly controversial. I want to illustrate it, but I'm afraid of what others will think. Heck. I'm afraid to even say that I have an idea that is controversial. Even though I don't care about what strangers think, I'm terrified of letting down my friends, but I guess that those that aren't willing to accept my ideas and thoughts aren't really going to support me in anything, anyway.

You know what? I really admire controversial artists. I may not agree with what they are saying, but at least they're willing to say it. They don't worry about what everyone else is going to say.

It's not like I'm trying to say anything that important even. I just want to write a story that doesn't exactly end in the most ideal way possible. I've always been a fan of stories that end with the death of the protagonist (no takesy-backsies like in Harry Potter). And, well, my story is sort of like that. It doesn't end with the most ideal situation for the protagonist. And people don't respond well to that. I'm talking about the lovable type of protagonist that you can't help but root for. I guess I prefer stories that are closer to real life rather than those that present an escape from reality. And people deal with their hearts ripped out of their chests pretty frequently. Life isn't a chick-flick.

I'm going to illustrate it anyway. Whether I let others read it or not is for me to decide later, I guess.

A Little Bit About Me.

I hate writing blogs.

'Nough said. Yet here I am, doing it anyway.

I really like being called 'kid'.

Not really sure why.

... And Letta.

It's really grown on me.

My favorite song is not a love song.

When you think of favorite songs, most people will say a song like "Iris" by the goo goo dolls or some song by Adele or Coldplay. While there is nothing wrong with that and I am a big fan of all of it, it's not my favorite. My favorite song is "Crossroads" by Tracy Chapman. I cannot listen to that song and not feel what Tracy Chapman felt. It is a song with power, with passion and with soul. And African instruments. Win.

I don't remember just one thing.

If you tell me something, I'll most likely remember it. And what we were doing, what we were talking about, the way you said it (rhythm and such) and maybe even what you were wearing. It's just how I remember things.

I play the guitar and ukulele for everyone else to sing.

I don't like singing. I love music and will sing for that purpose, but I would much rather have everyone around me sing together than me being the only one. There is power, peace and love in unity. It's always amazing when you get a whole room of people singing together. Not perfectly, but that's not what matters.

I get hurt a lot easier than some people think.

I'm not strong. Never was. I make mistakes. People hurt me. I keep letting them do it. Is that naivete? Or just me being stupid?

I don't like being alone.

Yeah. It's true. Sometimes I need space, but most of the time I just want to be around people. Not necessarily INTERACTING with them... that requires too much effort.

I appreciate hugs, or the idea of them, more than you think.

I just find them to be awkward and uncomfortable, but they're growing on me.

I don't understand hate. Or violence. Or disrespect to another's opinion.

I'm not saying I've never hated anything or never hurt someone/thing etc. I just don't understand it. And I don't like those feelings.

I can't stand cinematic gore.

It's why I rarely watch movies. Especially the older ones with really bad computer graphics. I don't forget those scenes. They constantly replay in my head with just the tiniest trigger.

I'm fine in real life, though, when an accident occurs (I mean that I don't freak out). I've fixed up many of my brother's injuries...

I'm not cool.

I don't know where you people get this notion.

I think I'm done.

... Yeah. I'm done.

Really It's the Lack of Interest

Hey everyone!

You know, all 4 of you...

I was sitting here on my favorite chair doing nothing in my living room thinking, "this is really boring, I need something to do."

"But what?" I countered myself. "I don't have any homework. It's Thursday and I don't have anymore classes until Monday. What could I do?"

Then I realized I hadn't written a decent blog on here in a VERY long time. So. Here I am, trying to make up for it. Well. Kind of. I don't really like blogging. I feel like I'm not very funny written down. Or at all, actually. I also normally just end up whining on here and that's never much fun at all.

I wish I had a better excuse for not writing, but really the only reason I don't is because I'm not that interested in blogging.

Have you every heard of the blog hyperbole and a half? It's written by an absolute genius.

Here's the link to the blog:
http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/

Anyway, I wish I had the geniusness to write like that. I say I wish I had it, because I don't really want to work on developing the skill.

It's raining. Like REALLY raining.



See? Rain. Oh and a little bit of me, too.

I love stormy weather, with all the wind, water and thunder. I love the uncertainty of whether or not your lights are going to go out. The perfect excuse it gives not to leave the house. The sleepy feeling you get when you relax in your favorite chair.

The only problem is that sometimes I have to go places. Sometimes I have to get something done. Sometimes I break out in hives because the water's cold and I'm allergic to cold. Sometimes I have a class to get to.

But not today. Today it's just me and my childish desire to go jumping in all the puddles while watching the amazing grey cloud rumble overhead. I love it.

My car's been having troubles lately with overheating. I'm assuming there's a crack in the radiator. I've just been filling up the radiator regularly and that was working just fine until yesterday, it wasn't good enough. I'm kind of afraid to drive my car now. I have a friend who said he can replace the radiator for me, so yeah. Hopefully that'll be done this weekend.

I don't know how many of you reading this already know this, but I live with an elderly couple (Les and Carol) and another student (Lili). Well, Carol and Les are in Missouri until June (PARTAY!!!) and so Lili and I have taken over the place. We rearranged the chairs to our liking and we actually turn on the ceiling lights.

Anyway, so Carol had been trying to get ahold of Lili the past couple of days and she left this message on her phone:

"Hi Lili, I'm getting really worried about you. I'm going to come over there and spanking you... unless you're dead or something."

Yep. She really worries about us.