If Nothing Ever Changes

I have had the pleasure of raising a critter, of petting her soft belly and praising her for peeing in appropriate places.  I have loved long and hard and given up on things I shouldn't have and fallen again.  I've done my best making a home in a place where I was told would 'never really feel like home.'  I have ridden bikes and laid on the grass and the sand and been burned in the sun and came back to do it all over again.  I have lied and behaved cowardly and confessed and smiled and fallen again.
For all these things, and if nothing changes, I have lived.

On Ordinary

One of my favorite times with you was the Saturday morning you surprised me with coffee before work.  You told me you had heard of this really great place and even though I had no idea how significant a well-crafted latte would become to me, I was excited to be chauffeured to the office with a quick stop for caffeinated goodness on the way.

"What if I didn't work on Saturdays?" I mused as we walked back to the car.  I don't think you responded.

And so the morning drive continued without incident, you dropped me off right before the Farmer's Market vendors started unloading their trucks, preparing for the day's activities.

A few months later, I got Saturdays off and we both worked Monday through Friday like "normal" adults do.  This isn't super significant, except to say the surprise coffee trip only happened once.  And maybe it should have happened more, or maybe the novelty of it made it matter most to my aching yet hopeful heart.

And I am still trying to process these feelings and hurts and choices, but when is it enough?


I dreamed about you last night, so I figured this was the most appropriate form of response.

All the Feels

I am here to say that I have been pleasantly surprised by the quiet unfolding of events over the past few weeks.  I feel lucky/blessed/etc/etc to be in this place, but the truth is I have put in a lot of work and made several fucking hard decisions to get here.  And, yes, I was not expecting this "so soon," but I can't deny that something is happening.

For now that is enough to keep me hopeful, to continue getting to know this peculiar person and to be okay with all the not knowings of something new and real and fragile.

It's not the worst place to be, I suppose.

On Want

I wanted to write about the nature of wanting and then I talked with a good friend last night about all different sorts of wants and decided I want to tell you about how most days I think I could be very happy on a ranch, running around with horses and dogs and maybe some cows or something.

I do not know why I think this.

Except for yes, mostly I do.  I like to think that I would be "good" at living the simple life.  Simple for me = less noise + more quiet + less electronic shit + more outdoors goodness.  I like to think that a big move, a change of scenery, a different pace equals simple.  I suppose it's not that easy, though, right?

When I reflect on my current state of affairs, sometimes this doesn't seem too far away.  A sense of an ending in this weird but achingly lovely city doesn't necessary seem imminent, but at the same time I can't rule it out entirely just yet.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that (you guessed it): I don't know.  Maybe the more I admit this the less terrifying it will become. Eh, probably not.

When the Rain Comes

The building I live in is old.  Also, there is a storm happening. (Right now!)  And I found myself tossing & turning in bed as the curtains flapped wildly against the screen, convincing myself I couldn't close the windows because I have never closed them since moving in and why would this morning be any different?

I will refrain from turning this into some sort of philosophical metaphor for old things and leaving things open or forcing them to close and just say this: I was able to shut the windows.

Everything was still okay.

On Not Knowing

One of the first things I will confess to you if we spend any amount of time together is that "mostly, I know that I do not know." Sure, I have my opinions and beliefs about why things work they way they do (or don't), but these are my opinions and if you want facts, maybe you should consult a book or Google or better yet go straight to the source (if/when possible).

I am also one of the more passive people you will meet and would go to great lengths to keep the peace versus actually addressing an issue I may have with someone. Chink in the armor? I suppose.

All that to say, the more people I meet, the more things I learn, the more I realize how little I know about my neighborhood, the city of Los Angeles, the Golden State, and I suppose life in general. It is a gentle, humbling reminder that I am a little piece of a great, big universe. "And that makes things right."

Even when it doesn't feel that way all the time.

On at Least Trying to Be

In the words of Hush Puppy: "I wanna be cohesive."

My painful realization of the day yesterday was this: I am obsessed with pursuing/being in a romantic relationship.

So...shit.  This self-awareness endeavor is no joke. 

Now what?

On Benefitting from Doubt

Remember that time I said I wanted to be taken advantage of? Scratch that. I definitely do not want that to happen.

I do still want to be kind and am trying to practice this skill daily. (Things tend to get easier the more you do them, good or bad...take that for what it's worth I suppose.)  I also realize that life for me is filled with far fewer wild adventures and many more quiet ones: interacting with humans, being outside, exploring.

Maybe re-learning how to be me is enough this year.  Maybe next year I get to re-learn how to be with others. Or maybe not.  Maybe I don't have holiday plans for the first time in my life and this is both terrifying and mildly okay.  Maybe being okay with the 'unknown' is an awkwardly small step in the direction of a much larger desire to be gracious in the art of letting go.

Whatever that means.

Things I Wish Would Happen But Will Most Likely Not Be Today, Etc.

Though I hate to acknowledge/these things take time/They cannot be rushed/or fast-forwarded/or ambushed into action/(which is what I'd prefer they do)/Perhaps for now we can sit/Walk the lake/Hope for good things for people who are not ourselves/And maybe "3rd times the charm,"/or 4th/or 5th/or maybe no charms/Just a peace and hope for what is to come/But still trying to be okay with the quiet,/the sadness,/the humility of solitude.

duck duck goose

So I know I don't really bring up personal things here, for fear that you may get the wrong idea. Things are good. Usually, things are always good. And if they're not good right now, they will be soon enough. That being said, if I am being totally honest with myself (and apparently right now I am), I must confess to you, dear readers, how difficult this 1st year of marriage has been for me. Upon review, 368 days later, for no apparent legitimate reason, I find myself questioning any newlywed couple that told me this decision would be "so easy." What did/do they know that I didn't/don't? Maybe I wasn't really "ready," maybe I had the wrong expectations, maybe I'm just not "marriage material." Maybe all of the above? The logistics of a wedding were overwhelming, but the reality of marriage was something I thought would come naturally to me, the oldest daughter of two still-married (happily?) Christian parents from a small, sleepy town on the Gulf coast. This is what G.R.I.T.S. are supposed to do, right? Not so easy, and in case you were wondering, it hasn't come as naturally as I assumed it would that balmy afternoon my sweet beau pulled out a box and asked me if I wanted to keep up this good thing we had going between us indefinitely. What I didn't realize, nor could I have anticipated the post-proposal pre-wedding haze, was the seriousness of my simple response. Yes to you and me. Yes to only us. Yes to disease. Yes to poverty. Yes to shortcomings. Yes to our humanness. There are days when I don't want to say yes to only us or sickness or budgets or imperfections. I replay August and the beach and the dogs in the sand...what if my yes had been a no, thank you? I would only be saying Yes to something else. To my dear friends and family who are married or planning to get married or unmarried, I salute you, applaud your courage and admire your pluck for the conscious/unconscious choice to enter into the daily Yes with another willing party who may or may not be just as terrified as I was.

on what can be said

Hi. It appears that when one has more time than she knows what to do with, very little actually gets done. At least, that is what this she has found. Here I am, at the end of October, wishing that the weather would at least pretend to behave and shed its perpetual summer skin. But, no luck. I think it's about 85 right now. I'm still looking for a job. I am reading Mockingjay, trying to convince Brian that the fact that it is labeled "YA" does not negate the point that I am reading again. Which is something. I'd like to tell you that my recent transition into marriage has righted every concern and answered every question I've ever held in my heart. But it has not, and I guess I am glad that it hasn't. Instead, it has decided to bring with it more concerns and questions to which I know the correct response to quite few. I found that my husband enjoys making lists, and I suppose I am not immune to this simple task either. Here are some things I have noted in my first 100 days or so: Clean up your dishes. Vacuum the floors at least twice a week. Make sure the dog has a full bowl of water. Limit t.v. exposure. Kiss each other when you leave and when you come back. Go outside. Let me get the mail. Let him play games. Make the bed. Open the blinds in the morning. Don't wear nail polish for more than two weeks. Eat fruit & vegetables. (Try to disguise them if you're not as good at this as you thought.) Maybe you found something on this list that was really helpful for your relationship, or something new that you'd like to try out. I hope so! And if I had a verse to share with you I'm pretty sure it'd be the one from Psalms... "O Lord, do not delay!" I'm not sure why, but this is what I want you to have. Also, let me know if you'll be in Florida this coming week, because it looks like I will be too.

On not disappointing.

For the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint; if it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late. -Habakkuk

Brian and I are getting married! Tell all your friends.

on sleeping hiccup attacks.

So there's a little creature in my life that sleeps on his back, dawdles in the bushes, and dreams long and hard. And I've never had a tiny heart rely on my own so much for everything. Oh, wait, I mean EVERYTHING. And this wasn't exactly how I had planned things: jobless, carless, moneyless...and yet, I can't complain when I think of all the little things. That I haven't been faithful in. All the big things that have yet to happen. And all the big things that already have in spite of myself.
I guess what I'm trying to say is just this: I'm still here. Things are happening. She is faithful, even when I am not. He cannot deny Himself.

And, proof:

on not having many plans

so you can have a day mostly focused on this.

streams.

It has been too long since I've had a chance to be reflective enough to write something of relevance here. It has been a long, loud, weekend. I feel older and am older, and lots of other things too. I am wondering about the validity of moving away from alot of things, people, places, etc. that I know and love to pursue one human. Is it worth it? (I like to think yes) The more people I talk to, the more people I tell that I'm moving, the more realistic my plan becomes. I don't want to be "that" girl that chases "that" boy. But I guess for lack of a better description, that's exactly who I am. It worries me somewhat, but not enough to do anything about it.
I like to think that a ring on my finger, and our own apartment with two bicycles in the hallway will finally be some sort of indicator that I have arrived. That the life I am living is worth it and valid and permanent. Some days the idea of carrying another life around inside me makes me sick to my stomach. But I wouldn't be here if someone didn't do the same for me. I really really really really like adoption. It might be hard to find someone who is on the same page as I am with that. But I hope I have/do/will find a partner in that, regardless. My mom asked me today if I knew what my dream job was. I had to say no. Maybe by now I should have said yes to that. How long does it take until I know? I wish I knew, I guess. For now there are too many things that I don't know. But I have learned to be content in them. I have learned that I am not the job I have, or the clubs I'm in, or the meals I prepare, or the stories I write. I am all of these things and none of these things, and it has taken a long time for me to honor this. I am light and truth and innocence and tenderheartedness and grace.

on never being able to stay New for long

I read something somewhere that said you should be kind to people, because every one is fighting their own battle. But I forget to be kind to people, because I forget that I'm not the only one that has bad days, and other people get cut off in the bike lane, get yelled at by the boss, and things like that.
But some times I like to think of a place all to myself, where I could invite people to come over and have a meal, or read books, or play games, or maybe just sit for a while. I don't think I would like to have a lot of decorations, but I would take donations at my guests' insistence.
In other news, I noticed a rollee-pollee on the sidewalk, and also saw a dog that looked like he had a chocolate milk mustache. It was pretty cute. It didn't feel like a Monday to me, which is a nice feeling.
I am already starting to feel nervous about what happens in June. Maybe because I don't really have any idea, but maybe mostly because I have little control over big changes. I should learn to be okay with that.
There is a verse in I Thessalonians that says something about living a quiet life and minding your own business and working with your hands. I would like to try to do that. I also would like to be more kind to people, especially people I am close to, and especially people that have let me down. I know I say this alot, and it's not much, but it is a start.

"For God is not a God of confusion but of peace."
1 Corinthians 14:33

faithfull in little & much.

A couple of days ago (and I am sorry, I know it’s no longer Valentine’s Day), I looked at my boyfriend and said, “Is there anyone else in love like us?” Which may or may not have been a spin off of a line from a certain Maya Rudolph in a particular movie that I am terribly fond of. Regardless.
What I think I meant to say was, “Will we still be in love like this when I can’t keep up with you on my bike, or if I am driven to madness by your sports fanaticisms?” But it was shorter. And sweeter. And perhaps encapsulates a lot more of what I was thinking at the time.
A friend of mine asked what sort of goals I had set up for my life, and one of them involved a dog, and another (more serious) one involved being in love with a partner for the better part of my life. I know I am a romantic, so this might have something to do with my response, but I also know that I can be dangerously practical, and that I have seen that sort of practicality fleshed out in many grown up relationships.
So, I know what to avoid, but there is a part of me that fears the only way to avoid mistakes is to repeat them. Which doesn’t really make that much sense if you think about it, so don’t. I’m afraid my partner and I will mirror my parents. Or, in other words, that we will be humans.
I am eager for a time when people get married for the right reasons: not because they’re young and not because they’re old, and not because they’re pregnant, or because they want to have sex or are simply tired of waiting.
And I don’t know what the right reason for you is, but I think for me it’s something along the lines of living better together than on my own, and loving fiercely, and finally waking up next to a very, very dear friend.

I think I am looking forward to a time where bed sharing is permissible and commuting by bicycle is possible and having a four legged friend proves feasible.

home is wherever with you.

I do not know why so many things seem to come together at once.
Like five birthdays in the same week,
Or three phone calls in a row,
when the line had been dead for an hour.
I do not know why "when it rains it pours."
Like why couldn't it just drizzle,
or mist even?
I do not know why things fall apart
and humans break so easily,
Like tinkling glass on tiles.
I do not know why I like bird whistles,
but tell you to shut up in the shower.
Like your voice is worthless without wings.
I do not know why your path and my path
are traveling in the same direction,
as constant and inherent as
the salmon swims upstream.