Text Message from Mom

"I just got home: There was a large Bambi in the yard, your diploma came in the mail, please consider getting renters insurance and a gun for your safety."

Oh, Mom. I love you too.

It makes me feel bad when people are nice to me

More and more, I realize how backwards my family functions. Growing up, vegetables and fruit were a rare treat, and junk was the main staple of my diet. My sister is more in charge of family decisions that my parents. Hugs are icky.

Outside is bad. You have can work out with weights, but only boys go to the gym. The size of clothes that are purchased for you is your correct size, regardless of gender. You can't do both sports and academics. Physical ailments don't exist on gardening days. Angry is normal, being kind is a way to destroy. There is no other way of life.

Now, maybe you understand why I get scared when people are nice.

I'm still learning to comprehend that friends being nice means they love you.

Sounds of laughter shades of life are ringing through my open ears

Words are flying out like
endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow waves of joy
are drifting thorough my open mind
Possessing and caressing me

Every time I watch Across the Universe, I find myself relating to it in a different way. This time, I saw that the tone of the movie as it progresses could be overlaid upon the past year of my life.

My senior year of college began with much confusion, much excitement, and complete instability. I watched my plans for my life be swallowed up by the churning sea of unrealized dreams. It was a long journey out of depression, and I began to be pleasantly surprised at feeling happy.

As I was accepted by my new homes, I found ways of hiding hurt and putting on a mask of "that fun, goofy girl." Slowly, though, the feelings I showed without started to sink their way into my heart, purging the darkness. God knows what He's doing. Always has.

I spent my 22nd birthday at a friend's funeral. Never saw it coming. It still makes me cry, even now. The play Dead Man's Cell Phone seems to have some relevance in my life now.

I feel confident and whole again. It won't fix the missed opportunities or the mistakes made, but they are learned lessons now. Thank you, Lord. For everything.

amusing

Dear boy who professed your love to me in the pool at summer camp,

How old were we? Fourth grade? Fifth grade?

Sometimes I wonder who you actually were. Your friend was actually the one that told me you liked me. He pointed over at you, but there were a lot of kids over there. I swam away quickly. But sometimes I wonder what you looked like and who you were.