70 years ago, when the world began anew. . .

I missed marking VJ Day yesterday.

The war is over. The conflict has ended. People can breathe again. Tents and tanks are put away; men and women board ships for home. Cities, demolished, start to rebuild. Countries, frightened, weep with relief; weep with sorrow. Deaths are mourned; homecomings are celebrated. Loss is accute. Life is accute, be it present or gone.

Confusion. Exultation. Shock. Rejoicing. Some wondering what will become of them; some certain that everything will be alright from now on. Some surrounded by death and pain, silent; some surrounded by life and joy, clamour.

The war is over. The conflict has ended. Life can begin again.

The more I study WWII, the more I'm convinced that there will always be good people in this world. People who fight for what they believe in, regardless of the cost. And I mean this for ALL sides of this conflict: the Axis forces, the Allied forces, and all those people caught in the struggle.

I believe that most Axis members weren't bad people -- they were good people who trusted their leaders and sacrificed for their countries. Granted, this was mostly the young, while the older generations watched in fear. Terrified to do *their* version of the right thing, but trying through underground networks or by attempting to shelter their children. Not bad people -- people trapped by circumstance; children raised to spread an idea, warped though it was.

I believe that most Allied members weren't bad people -- they were good people who saw a monstrous threat intent on swallowing humanity and spitting it out as something which was, to them, horrific. And so they fought back, for their families, their freedoms, their way of life. They sought to halt an idea, a system that seemed intent on the world's destruction.

Both sides had a goal. Both sides had a belief. Both sides, though one is easily marked the bad and the other just as easily marked the good, were full of good people trying to do what they believed was the right thing. I know that this analysis is somewhat simplified -- it doesn't account for every variable, because that would take pages and pages of documented research to present a sound argument. But simply put, everyone had something they believed in: the Axis' New World; the Allied idea of freedom and safety for everyone, regardless of race, color, creed, religion, or lifestyle.

What to us is clearly an evil may be obviously good to someone else. Take the current conflicts with ISIS and ISIL: many of them truly believe that what they do is right. And what do we support and perpetuate that others in the world see as evil?

Good people do bad things -- sometimes we know what we're doing is wrong, and we feel too frightened or too unconcerned to change it. Sometimes we don't know it. Does that make those people bad? Evil? I don't believe that it does.

Our perspectives shape the way we see good and evil. I believe that if everyone looked harder for these perspectives, to understand how and why people think and believe the way that they do -- I believe that there would be more love. Less hate. More talk. Less gunfire.

I'm glad the war ended the way that it did. I sorrow for the loss of innocent life that led to Japanese surrender. I understand that many believe that it was the only way, and I have often thought about other possibilities. I wonder what would have happened if talking had been an option, if a greater respect for all human life could have made things change. It didn't happen that way -- and so we can appreciate what goodness DID come from the ending of the Pacific conflicts, and think of all the goodness that can be found in stories of people throughout the terrible time that was WWII.

when it hits you...

I can't say I didn't sleep last night, because if I'm dreaming, I'm most likely asleep. I can say, though, that I am quite possibly the most insecure person I know.

Really. All of the nightmares I had last night were incredibly eye-opening. I am so, so, so insecure that it's ridiculous. 

Insecure and self-absorbed. 

Bug.

i never understood...

I always knew that breaking up was hard to do, and I thought I had a pretty good understanding of how it feels. There have been times in my life when I had to let go of people I really cared a lot about, a couple of them being guys I almost dated. One I even had to run from, because staying was too dangerous.

It isn't until now, however, that I think I actually understand what it's like to lose the companionship of someone you love more than anything in the whole world.

It sucks.

Now that I know what it's like, I ache for those who are going through similar situations that I am. One friend went through a break up earlier this year, and she still isn't quite over it. She's been holding on, hoping that things would get back together (I, unfortunately, am in the same boat, just in a different sort of way -- every experience is very different, another thing I'm learning). He, on the other hand, has moved on and is dating someone else.

I saw the update on the Internet and my heart broke for her. How it must hurt her to see that he's done and has found someone else to make him happy, while she's still stuck with the pain of losing him, and the future she thought she would have.

I think I understand that better now.

That's one of the things that is the hardest for me, really: that the future I thought was going to happen isn't happening. I thought I had found someone to share my life with, someone to whom I could give everything and be sure that he'd still be there tomorrow.

The day I see him move on will be a hard day -- I like to pretend I'm good at moving on. I'm not. I hold on to things I shouldn't, and I hope for things that probably won't happen -- at least not with the person in question. I'm loyal to people I love, even after they're long gone. People I haven't spoken to in years, who have really hurt me (even the one really abusive guy) -- I still miss them, even though I know I shouldn't.

I wish I couldn't love. Then things wouldn't hurt so much.

But love makes life worth living.

what's old is new to me...

struggling through...

I have a bad habit of looking straight to the end of things. I'm a big picture person, but big picture in the most finite sense of the word finite.

Sounds oxymoronic, right? Oh, honey -- I know it.

Here's how my brain works: I see all of the little tiny details as they should be in the completed picture, all at the exact same time. Right now, I'm looking at a tree -- or at least, a tree that I'm envisioning in my mind. 

I see the entire tree at the same time I see each vein in every single leaf. I see how tall and wide it is, leafy and green with a brown trunk, simultaneously with the intricate ridges and curves in the bark. I see the big and the little in the same moment. 

Then I see what's beyond the tree: the seed, how it grew from a sapling to a giant, the rain and the sun that fed it, the birds that lived there, the snow and sun that laid their weight on its branches, and that the tree will one day fall to the earth -- the ways it can fall, when it can fall, which direction -- so many possibilities. And seeing the new trees that will come from the rotting limbs, and will feed those trees as the limbs were fed while a little tree.

That's how I see life. All of it, all at once. The past, present, future in an instant, all of the tiny details and the infinite elements.

It's exhausting. Exhausting in the sense that my brain is never quiet. I can never stop seeing and observing, thinking and experiencing. Exhausting in the sense that I constantly see the potential outcomes -- the multiplicity of things that might be, could happen.

I'm struggling with all of the seeing. My potential outcomes are generally negative -- failure, disappointment, heartache, sorrow -- I see potential negatives at every turn. I feel sadness, shame, guilt, fear -- a dying, twisting, rotting tree, decaying from the inside out because inside, it wasn't good enough.

Failing -- I may fear that more than anything else in the entire world. Not being good enough, not choosing the right things, not having it perfect.

I feel so deeply. I think so hard. I try and try, against all of the ever-pressing obstacles that throw themselves in my way. Yet, it never seems to be enough. 

Will I ever be enough?

be exceptional...be complete...

Lately I've been thinking about what it means to be exceptional, to make a difference, to impact the world in some way. Not necessarily on a grand, global scale, but exceptional enough to change something. Perhaps even exceptional enough to change myself, for personal change is no easy thing. I find this to be truer every day.

Some may say that because "everyone is special", no one is special. "Being special" may be seen as the status quot: you're not special because everyone else is and you're only special if you stand out. We sure don't treat everyone like they're special. If that's the way that we saw one another, wouldn't it solve a lot of problems? If when you look at another person, you see someone special instead of someone average--how would that change the world?

2nd Peter 1:3-4 say "According to his divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of him that hath called us to glory and virtue: Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises: that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world..."

Doctrine and Covenants 18:10 reminds that each person, each soul, is important to God, commanding us to "Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God."

What if we treated everyone with the belief that inside of them is the incredible? Not just the potential: the incredible, the exceptional, the divine nature is already there. Our world is so set on seeing the flaws and faults and imperfections that the true worth of each individual soul has been forgotten in a tide of false perfection. The Lord says, "be ye therefore perfect". Do you know what perfect means in the Hebrew translation? Perfect: whole, complete, finished. That means something different than flawless.

We're not going to be perfect in this life. We're going to make mistakes. We're going to see people not as they really are. We're going to see ourselves differently, too. But--to become finished and complete--one must work at it. Really work at it, involving the Lord as much as possible in everything. That isn't to say let Him tell you what to do. He won't always tell you what to do. Instead, ask for His advice. Ask for His help, His guidance, His strength and spirit to be with you.

How wonderful is it that God didn't leave us to ourselves? It is said that God no longer speaks to men, that He has forgotten us. Some even say that He gave up. He didn't do that though. I believe that God has instilled in everyone a desire to do something great. Why? Because as children of God, we share in His nature. Goodness, the desire to do good, comes from Him. Whether someone knows it or not, whether the desire is big, small, or hasn't come to conscious thought yet, it's in there.

I want to make a difference. I want to do something, to be something great. Whether that is an outstanding, earth shaking thing or a seemingly insignificant thing, I want to be incredible. Every person has incredible inside. It comes with being human. And someday, if we work hard enough and rely on the Savior and His grace to make up the difference, we will be complete.

Richard's Trees...

It is his idea to go for an early evening stroll through the neighborhood. I protest at first, laughing at the crazy idea of going out in the below freezing temperatures. Then he opens the door. The outside world is draped in misty wonder, the lights dim and fluttery as their beams try to penetrate the fog. He has caught me, for it looks like a fairyland. He knows I can't resist a fairyland.

He hands me my coat and puts on his own. Opening the door, we step from the place of warm, human familiarity and into a chilly, enchanted land--the realm of the fairies. It is as strange and wondrous as any of the Seven Wonders of the World, but it is upon our doorstep.

At first we talk and even chase one another through the slippery, frosty mist that tingles as it touches our cheeks. He laughs as I exclaim at the beautiful patterns upon the leaves and fences; I laugh as he sings "Frosty the Snowman" at the top of his voice. "There isn't any snow to sing about!" I cry. "Well, you never know," he replies, "Maybe if we sing loud enough, your fairies will make it snow." He winks at me and begins to run again.

Soon we lapse into companionable silence. We walk in step with one another, listening to the crunch of ice and frost under our feet. It is impossible to tell the time--there is only the dull, shimmering glow of the streetlights in the fog.

On and on we walk, commenting on a particularly interesting icicle hanging from a tree branch or the way the blue and green and red of the Christmas lights on a fence bleed together in the misty air to form new colors. But mostly we just walk together, as we always do.

He stops suddenly. I stop a few paces ahead of him, turning to see what the matter is. "What's up?" I ask him. He shrugs and lets loose a breath. It creates a puff of white in front of his face. He does it a second time, then points a little ways ahead of us.

"What do you see?" he asks.

I walk to where he is standing and position myself to follow his line of sight. Ahead of us is the park. There is a smattering of trees before us, each one standing apart from its fellows. They have no line or pattern, but they fit together all the same. I study them for a time, trying to find a satisfying answer to his question.

"Well?" he says. "Well, what?" He laughs and moves to stand at my side, putting a hand on my shoulder and pointing again to the trees with the other, "Tell me what you see." I frown at him, "You'll laugh." He shakes his head, "Won't."

Squinting at the scene before me, I begin.

"I see figures, frozen by the night in their acts of life. See? That one, there. She is waiting, waiting for someone to come home. Over there, he remembers what it was to be young and free. Beyond them both, another pauses on the path of change before taking the step that will alter his life forever. And there, she holds inside tears that cannot yet be allowed to flow.

These figures, they're shrouded. Shrouded in the frost--shrouded in delicate, intricate, fragile life. Each life is so very different, as is the way of things. And yet, if you notice, each one is clothed in the same material. You see them? All clothed in diamond white. But look at them closer and you'll see that none is the same. All of the patterns are different. No ice crystal is the same. Neither is any human experience.

And so they stand there, paused in their time. They stand, waiting in the winter of their lives, praying for the tender touch of spring."

I am so caught up in the scene before me that I’m startled when I hear a soft chuckle. The magic is broken and I turn, a rush of anger rising at his laughter. "You said you wouldn't laugh," I remind him sharply.

He shakes his head as looks at me, an expression of amusement on his face. Again I feel upset, but then I notice the sadness creeping up in the corners of his eyes. The anger fades, and I wait for him to speak. He sighs again and stuffs his hands deep into his pockets. I wait still. Staring straight into my eyes, he speaks.

"You missed your calling in life."

Startled, I reply, "My calling?"

"Yes," he walks toward the trees. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiles at me, "You should have been a poet." I laugh and wave away the praise, "Poets only make an income after they're dead." He laughs too, and then returns his gaze to the trees. He gestures to the trees and speaks again.

"When you look at the world, you see people. A frost-covered tree isn't just a frost-covered tree. It's...it's more than that. It becomes a person with a story, a symbol of a life lived. Or even one not lived." His voice grows quiet, and he talks to the icy grass below our feet. "I don't know how you do it, Hannah. Or why you do it. You've always been like that."

I feel as though he's complimented me and in the same sentence pointed out some sort of flaw in my personality. Suddenly I feel unsure and almost frightened of what will happen next, so I laugh, "Well, Richard, you know what I see now! But you haven't told me what you see."

He smiles over his shoulder again but doesn't respond. I approach him and put my hand on his shoulder.

"Richard?" I ask softly, "What do you see?"

His gaze lingers upon the trees in front of us. Slowly he raises his arm and gently removes my hand from his shoulder. He holds it for awhile, tracing the design of my glove with his finger. Then, he looks me in the eye.

"I see trees covered in frost, Hannah. That's all I've ever seen."

He drops my hand. I watch him as he slowly walks back the way we came, until I can no longer see him through the mist.


.

weekly poem...

Interesting Times

Everything’s happening on the cusp of tragedy, the tip of comedy, the pivot of event.
You want a placid life, find another planet. This one is occupied with the story’s arc:
About to happen, on the verge, horizontal. You want another planet, try the moon.
Try any of the eight, try Planet X. It’s out there somewhere, black with serenity.
How interesting will our times become? How much more interesting can they become?

A crow with something dangling from its beak flaps onto a telephone pole top, daintily,
And croaks its victory to other crows and tries to keep its morsel to itself.
A limp shape, leggy, stunned, drops from the black beak’s scissors like a rag.
We drive past, commenting, and looking upward. A sunny morning, too cold to be nesting,
Unless that is a nest the crow has seized, against the coming spring.

We’ve been at this historical site before, but not in any history we remember.
The present has been cloaked in cloud before, and not on any holy mountaintop.
To know the stars will one day fly apart so far they can’t be seen
Is almost a relief. For the future flies in one direction—toward us.
And the only way to sidestep it—the only way—is headed this way, too.

So, look. That woman’s got a child by the hand. She’s dragging him across the street.
He’s crying and she’s shouting, but we see only dumbshow. Their breath is smoke.
Will she give in and comfort him? Will he concede at last? We do not know.
Their words are smoke. In a minute they’ll be somewhere else entirely.
Everyone in a minute will be somewhere else entirely. As the crow flies.

~Mark Jarman

24 or forever...

You know Aries told me yesterday that it was "good-bye for now". Well, as of a few hours ago, it's "Good-bye. I hope you have a wonderful life." 24 hours of good-bye turned into a request for another chance, which turned into good-bye forever. All in a day.

He told me that he couldn't stand living without one of his best friends in his life. He asked me to tell him what he could do to make things right. I didn't close any doors on him. I didn't open any doors either. As my friend Kyle said, I "opened the door while leaving the safety chain in place". I didn't walk away. I didn't tell him to leave. I would never do that. I've thought it, and said it to other people, but I don't think I ever really meant it. There is no way in heaven or on earth that I would just walk away from a friend, no matter what they'd done. I've never been able to do that.

He's the one who said good-bye. He's the one who is walking away. Friends tell me that he'll come back. "That's the way he is", they say, "He says he's done but doesn't really mean it. He'll come back. He always does."

I don't know. I get the feeling that he won't come back, and that this forever of good-bye begins tonight. Forever. It's a long time.

I feel mixed up and confused. First there was a feeling of relief. Then there came this odd, crushing feeling that was so strong my legs almost gave way beneath me and I had to sit down. Following that was a determination to keep smiling and to forget about the whole dang thing. Then came a dull but persistent ache, and I found myself fighting tears. Then I couldn't cry at all, even when I wanted to. I still can't cry.

The aching feeling isn't something I expected. I didn't expect it yesterday, but it faded. I didn't expect it today, either. I suspect that this will last a while longer. Somehow I find myself wishing that this good-bye really will be forever, and that he won't come back to the place in my heart that now feels empty. It's best to just let it be, to find something else to fill that space. The back and forth between him being here and being gone is too much of a rollercoaster.

It's amazing what can happen between two people in such short amounts of time. I know that much of the fault is mine, but I don't know how to fix it without getting into serious trouble. He admitted that he's a master of manipulation, more than one time. How can I trust a person who openly boasts of this, calling it his art and his gift? That isn't a gift, in my book, especially when a person uses it to hurt and use others.

Thank heavens for my wonderful friends and family. I don't know what I would do without my LDC friends. I don't know what I would do without Jason (I can't imagine my life without him anymore), and Jordan, and Kyle, and their family. I don't know what I would do without my own family--my sisters and my parents. Even my puppy. I am so, so grateful for them.

Speaking of friends, my friend Brady had his appendix removed early this morning. He hasn't been feeling well lately. No wonder! I'm glad that he's been taken care of, and that he'll be able to recover and be healthy again. He's awesome. I'm really glad that I met him; he's helped me many times this semester. He's one of those people who you just can't help but love because he's so gosh darn kind.

One more day of recording for LDC tomorrow, math test results (yikes), and my last paper of the semester to work on. Tomorrow WILL be good. No boy is going to ruin my life. Sure, this hurts. But I will not let it mess other things up. Remind me that I said that, okay? I'll probably forget and start to mope because I'm silly like that.

tender mercies...

Today could have been really terrible. I don't know what the heck was wrong with me. Nothing should have been wrong, and nothing was wrong. I just felt all wrong--sick, tired, uncomfortable in my own skin, angry, alone, scared of everything, et cetera. As Ron Weasley would say, "How could someone feel all of that at once? They'd explode!" Well yes, Ronald dear. There were multiple water shows (not set to music or timed) throughout the afternoon, and in short it wasn't fun or pretty. There is nothing attractive about crying. Everything could have been a lot worse though. Starting from early this morning and continuing throughout the day I have seen so many good things. There have been dozens of tender mercies and little blessings that have helped me from completely losing control. In truth, they started last night. I'll list a few things that touched my heart and made me smile (or at least cry happy tears instead of sad ones).

1. Last night I had the chance to see several of my friends who I haven't been able to visit for about a month. A shout out to Steven for inviting my sisters and me to his party and for the great time!


2. Last night was also the first time I have ever had a problem with my car when I was the responsible person around AND the only driver...I have no knowledge of cars whatsoever. While I was with my friends, we noticed that there was steam coming out from under the hood. When we opened the car, we couldn't help but notice a steady stream of liquid coming from a gash in a large black tube. The radiator hose had sprung a leak, a clamp on the engine had come loose, and all of the radiator fluid was covering the ground (and my hands and shoes...it was hot and it hurt). Thank heavens, literally, that Taylor's dad was able to come help us. He used to be a mechanic, and he fixed my car. It was amazing: he went and bought new parts for the car, bought a gallon of radiator fluid, fixed the car, and wouldn't let me pay him back for it. He barely even let me thank him! I'm so grateful for his help.


3. This morning wasn't cold! It was a little chilly, but warm enough that I could walk from the parking lot instead of waiting for the shuttle and enjoy the sunshine.


4. I got to sing with LDC in the Institute devotional today. There was a very special feeling about that performance, and I was grateful to be able to participate and be a member of this choir. I'm so glad that I've had this chance; it's been such a blessing in my life.


5. Not only did I get to sing with my friends, I got to have lunch with them, too! Brianna invited me to sit with her and then forced me to eat, for which I am grateful. Sometimes it's hard for me to eat when I'm around a lot of people. She knows that about me and won't let me get away with saying I'm not hungry. I love that girl, for so many reasons. She's been a miracle in my life many times this past year. I also got to talk with Erin for a little while, and Brady too. There are so many wonderful people in this choir, and some of them are becoming and have become my dearest friends.


6. My Rapunzel charm bracelet came in the mail today!


7. Another item came in the mail for me that I wasn't expecting: I received a letter from one of my missionary friends. It couldn't have come at a better time. The words he wrote changed some of my tears from those of sorrow and pain to hope and gratitude that he had taken the time to write to me, and because the message was exactly what I needed to hear today. "Bad can never endure when good is coming." Good is coming. It is always coming. The waiting and hoping for it is hard, but it will always come.


8. I was able to visit my dear second family. I saw the kids and Sister Raddatz yesterday, and today I got to see all of the family except for Brother Raddatz. It was great to see Jason and Jordan; it's been a long time since I got to say hello to either of them in person. Jordan told me that he came to the LDC performance today because he didn't have classes. That made me feel really good, to know that I'd had a friend cheering me on in the audience.


9. Three words: four hour nap.


10. My family puts up with me and loves me even when I'm a nervous wreck, and they take care of me when I'm too tired, too unwilling, or too irrational to take care of myself. I love them so much.


11. Mom took me on a date to the bookstore (after persuading me for half an hour to get out of my bed and go play with her), and because she is braver than I am she was able to talk to one of the cashiers and get me 50% off on a recipe book I wanted because the book has a rip on the cover. The other great part about it? The recipe book is a Hershey's dessert book. It's all about CHOCOLATE. And, because it was already on sale, mom's ability to get a second discount made the book only $3.00. How much better can you get?! Not to mention I was able to buy it with a gift card that I got two Christmases ago and lost...I found it last week. Perfect, no?


12. She also bought me a Cookies n' Cream CreamKula at the coffee shop. They can make all of their drinks without coffee, so I didn't feel guilty at all about it. And I tried very hard to not remember the last time I was at the bookstore and had the same drink...I was on my first official date with the friend I wrote about a couple of days ago. Mom kept talking to me and telling me to forget about it and enjoy my drink. I did. :)


13. We found a "Tangled" coloring book!! And since I still had money on my gift card...it was pretty much free for me. I can't wait to start coloring it in!

Bad really can't endure. Good things will always come. I saw that happen today. Yes, things hurt. Things are hard. There will always be pain and tears. That can't be helped. But good things can always make life a little easier, a lot happier, and full of love. Today, I am grateful for my family and my friends, and for the proof that Heavenly Father does love me and cares enough to show me.

life is like a rock wall...

"No matter how stuck you feel, there is always a way to get to the top."

-my friend Julia

Yesterday morning I had the opportunity to go rock climbing with a girl who is quickly becoming a dear friend. She is in the LDC choir that I sing with, and she was also a senior in high school when I was a junior (I think).

When Julia asked me to go, I was so excited that she wanted me to hang out (haha!) with her that I didn't even realize I'd said yes to go rock climbing. It was only after I said I'd go that I remembered: I am deathly afraid of heights.

Julia has been climbing longer than I have. She usually goes about twice a week and has for nearly six months. Me? Yesterday was the first time I've gone in ten years. My dad took me because I really wanted to go, and he dropped me about six feet because there was too much slack in the rope. In short, I haven't been too fond of the sport in a long time.

Learning how to tie knots, put on harnesses, and belay was the easy part (kind of...it took me awhile to figure out). Climbing the first wall wasn't too hard either. It was the coming down that was the hardest part. That first climb scared me to death, and Aaron, the guy who was belaying me, had to coax me back down. His patience (and the fact that my arms were killing me) made it a lot easier. After that, I was super excited because I hadn't died! And it was actually really fun.

Now to the point of this post: there were a couple of times when I was climbing a particularly rough wall and had to stop to rest, or even come down. My fingers wouldn't grip the holds very well, and I was so tired. Once or twice I got stuck, and instead of staying up I just asked the person belaying me to let me down. The time that stuck with me, though, was when Julia was belaying me. I couldn't go up any higher, and she let me down. She asked me if I would belay for her, and started up the wall.

As Julia was climbing, she would stop and track out a path up the wall. Sometimes she would climb down a few feet, get her bearings, and then shoot ten feet up the wall in a few easy steps. She made it look so simple! I kept watching and waiting for her to get stuck or get too tired to keep going. Three times I thought she would stop and come back down, but she never did. It wasn't until she reached the very top of the wall and touched the bar holding the rope that she said she was ready to drop back down.

While she was slipping the ropes off of her harness, she smiled at me and said something that stuck with me all day and all night. "No matter how stuck you feel, there is always a way to get to the top."

I've thought about this a lot, how she took her time and made sure to take the right steps. Even if she had to double back a few feet and start again, she never stopped climbing until she made it to the top. To me, that's kind of how life is. No matter how hard it gets, or how stuck you may feel, there is always some way to get to the top of whatever problem you are facing. I'm really glad that Julia taught me that. It's something I always want to remember.

forgot to mention...

I forgot!! Last week I had a job interview at the public library, where I volunteered this summer (and hope to start doing again as soon as the concert and choir tour are over). It went...fine. Not as well as I'd hoped, because there were four majorly important adults interviewing me (a couple of whom [who? of who? of whom? whom?] I know and have known me for years, or I found out have known me for years and I didn't know that they did...) and I was terrified. Then some of the questions one of them asked me really threw me off. Not to mention the face she made after I answered. Ugh...it was frightening and really dinged my all ready nonexistent self-confidence. I am just not confident enough to get a job. It's really frustrating.

Anyways, Louise (the one I found out has been watching me for several years) called me today to tell me that they'd chosen a different applicant for the position, BUT...she "was very impressed by your interview and thought you did very well, so I wanted to let you know that several library page positions will be opening up later this week and they'll be posted online. Just in case you're interested."

Um...how can I not be excited about that? Louise is the director of the Human Relations department, the Publicity department, and the Public Events department. She's kind of important, and she liked me!! So that was a definite plus to the day, and kind of to my life.

I have some things to remember when times get tough again. I'm still badgered with depressing thoughts (if depression had innings I'd be at the bottom of the ninth with bases loaded and two outs, coming up to bat with a sledgehammer and a cannon for the pitcher...it's been really bad) but now I have some things to combat them with that are fresh in my mind. I'm crossing my fingers that it will get better. Not to mention I'm somehow having words float around in my head like mad and all I have to do is reach out, grab them, and place them in the correct order on paper.

I'm very confused by all of this. Three weeks of utter darkness and there's suddenly all this light. It's so weird.

a vague family reunion...

"A Vague Family Reunion" is not the title. I just titled the post that 'cause this story doesn't have one yet. And it made my sister laugh really hard when I called it a vague family reunion, so...yeah. The assignment was to "describe a typical family reunion". Most people write about hot dogs and hamburgers and picnic tables and playing football with their cousins. I wanted to try something different. I wasn't thinking of me when I wrote it. I guess in a way it is about me when I was 2 or so, but it could be anyone. Anyway, this is what came to mind:


The purple van stopped within the white lines. A second later, the side door flew open and out tumbled a small girl. The gentle breeze instantly began curling its fingers through her silky blonde curls. She batted the tendrils out of her eyes and surveyed her surroundings. The park was large to such a small child; emerald bristles under her feet stretching far into the distance, towering pine trees like sentinels awaiting to announce her arrival, and a sapphire fountain calling for her to play. Radiant yellow daffodils, their upside down teacup heads coloring the winding cement path, called hello as they bowed in the breeze.

The girl cupped her hands to her eyes, shielding them from the bright kisses the sun placed upon her skin. Gazing around the area, blue eyes wide with excitement, she let loose a squeal of delight and scampered across the long green field. A blur of pink jumper, white tights, golden curls, and chiming laughter, she raced up the sloping lawn. Her target in sight, she launched herself into the air with a whoop into the outstretched arms of her favorite uncle. Tall, smiling, blue eyed, and just as mischievous as herself, together they put the "double" in double trouble.

The girl's uncle twirled her around and around in the air, laughing as she squealed again and again. Her feet went high enough to tickle the undersides' of the passing clouds; the world a blur of color and sound as she whooshed through the air. Finally the two were both so dizzy that they collapsed to the ground in a heap, tangled together in fits of giggles.

More laughter joined theirs; the girl looked up and with a shout of excitement, she leapt to her feet and ran to embrace her grandmother and grandfather. Not so tall as uncle, or quite so young, they still had the smiling faces and blue eyes that mirrored her own. Snuggling into grandma's arms and reaching out to pat grandpa's cheek, she laughed and smiled at all around her. Soon she was passed from aunt to uncle to mother and back, doted upon as only a single grandchild or niece can be.

But it was enough; she was ready to explore once more. The daffodils still whispered hello; the fountain still invited her to play; the wind still asked to braid her hair. Slipping off of her father's lap, she was caught by the wind. Carrying her along, almost above the ground, it took her to see her world on its back. Her laughter still reached her watching family; her eyes sparkling as she reminded them of what it was to be new in the world.

17 again...

Last day as a minor. I'm kind of wishing I'd done more as a "teenager". All of my friends (or most of them) have done so many fun things and been such typical 14-17 year olds. I've been a "mini adult" most of the time, as my brother tells me. Ah, well. It's just a new stage to try new things. Someday I'll be an old lady laughing at how badly I wanted to grow up, then deciding I didn't want to anymore. Someday I may realize that in some ways you never really do grow up-you can always stay connected to that beginning until it's time for it all to end.

"Grease" auditions today went all right. It turned out better than I thought it would, and I'm really glad. I also took myself out to lunch at Wendy's because 1) I wanted to and 2) I was hungry and didn't have a 3rd period, lunch would be spent rehearsing, and 4th studying. It was fun. :)

Tomorrow is Preference. I'm so excited!! Everything has been working out really well. Hopefully it will go smoothly, and everyone will have a fun time.

3am...

It is almost 3 in the morning.

My corner of the world
could be just like yours,
or the opposite.

Mine is 3 things: Black. Quiet. Cold.

The red numbers
on the clock
blink from 1 to 2 to 3,
fading in and out
as the time creeps
slowly towards
day.

In a few hours,
my corner of the world
could again be
just like yours,
or the opposite.

Mine will be 3 things: White. Quiet. Cold.

It is almost 3 in the morning.
Time fading,
from 1 to 2 to 3 minutes
past the hour.
I watch the time moving forward.
Foward toward the day.

In my corner of the world,
I will see 3 in the morning.