i dont even know.
i just ate a lot of cake.
and im sad. and i should be tired. but im not really wanting to go to sleep.
why is it that i am this way?  up one minute and down the next. 
i dont want to go home tomorrow.  but i do. 
its a rough change.
i suck at change.
will i ever get better at transitioning?
i hope so, but i doubt.
chocolate burps.
i want to throw up.

wow.
so i am done the semester.  almost done.  minus a paper that is this close to being done. 
it feels nice.
does it though?? feel nice? nope.  it kind of sucks. 

i've changed so much this semester.  i think.  and i want to figure out where i am, where ive been, where im going.  to pause.  to reflect.  to make breaks and build on foundations. 

im leaving for ecuador on june 12 and i want to be refocused by the time i get there.  between now and then there is camp and working for people at home.  im hoping to have my dreadlocks done in there too.  but i think i need to set goals for the next month.  goals to foster rebirth.  a lot is ending tomorrow... but a lot is ready to be born. 
i want to:

use my body to do something everyday.  run.  walk.  hike.  lift weights.  move furniture.  dance.  jump.  spin in circles until i fall on the ground.

write a page everyday.  one single spaced word document.  about life.  about my day.  about God.  about a character. 

spend time with god every morning.  meditating and reflecting and focusing.  journaling?  yes.

work on playing the guitar.  you could do it one day.  you can do it again.  for fun. 

make art.  make art. make art.

clean out your room.  get rid of stuff.  simplify.  be simple. 

take photographs.  lots.  and send them to people in the mail.  with stickers. 

i am really excited and really ready for camp.  and i can't believe how God has changed my heart about it.  im praying that my attitude keeps up.  its going to be hard to go back home tomorrow, especially since i am sort of mourning this semester.  its a lot to say good bye to and im not sure they understand that. 

Tomorrow I'm saying farewell to:

Going to school with Jenna.

Living in NC 19

Sharing a room with Rach

Being a junior in college

I'd like so badly to say good bye to a lot.  I'm learning about me and a lot of what you uncover sucks.  plain out sucks.  so maybe one day soon I can say good bye to:

eating because I am sad or lonely

not saying hi to people i know when i see them

being busy

not being honest with myself or with other people

change is going to be good.  so often it is painful in the midst of it.  maybe tomorrow i can let go.  stop gritting my teeth.  breathe.  cry.  soak up the sun.  let go of myself and be a child of God. 

Before i begin for real, and im doing so i guess i am beginning for real, but whatever.  i ramble far too much when i post anyhow, but im not so sure this is read by anyone, and what i post is not intended to be read by anyone to tell the truth and so therefore, my rules win.  I always seem to be here writing either because i just haven't written in a while or because i am stressed or sad about something.  this makes me wonder if i am often a depressing individual, but i guess that when i am alive, i dont really run to the computer and fire up the internet and start typing.  that said, this is what makes me feel alive.

salsa, merengue, bachata, you name it i feel it deep down inside.
yoga.
hard, powerful, intense, effective revision of my work.
being absolutely terrified and looking that fear in the face and saying ha.
singing way too loud in the car.
tea parties.

ive got to work on this short story next.  and its gonna be a tough one.  first of all, it sucks.  second thing is that im a bit nervy because i know how much work this semester is and im afraid that doing work now is meaning that ill have no life later, that it will only get worse.  there is truth to this fear and yet, it is no reason that i should launch into neurotic rantings when i notice that a sentence is stupid.  i still have no idea what im doing in this major here, other than i feel completely honored to be able to be here.  Ive arrived at a party with a lot of people i love, don't know who invited me, but dont want to leave despite my minor embarassment at feeling like a party crasher.

First small group is tonight at kathleen's.  i was worried i would have too much work to do.  but i think there are three things i am gonna make time for this semester, maybe four.  small group, yoga, and shaking my butt in the city.  the fourth goes without much saying but it would be my friends especially christa.  that girl and i see way too little of each other and that is a problem. 

ok off to perform surgery.  just have to detach myself from it all and dive in without a hint of pride.  i can do it. we'll see.

               There is an episode of Gilmore Girls from a few years back about Luke's dark day.  He has it every year.  Nice and constant and predictable.  The same day every year he retreats somewhere and braces himself until this particular day is over.  Lorelei, unfortunately, is unaware of this ritual, but that is another story altogether.  Luke's dark day popped into my mind the other day between thoughts about the brevity of life and the utter hopelessness of it all and I found myself skipping into psychosis.  How come Luke can predict his dark day and mine just seem to kick down the front door and announce their presence?  Perhaps I could handle cowering in a corner for the same day every year, I could put it on my calender and put a pot of tea on so that my dark day and I could have some pleasant conversation while it came to visit.  But no, maybe if I scheduled a dark day here and there, it wouldn't bother showing up.  These things tend to thrive off of surprise and sneak attacks. 
                  And so, rather poetically, a couple of dark days came for a visit right before new years.  New years is the time for resolutions and change, the time when we realize, or perhaps beg and plead with God, that the winter cannot stay forever.  We've had our share of Christmas cookies and family gatherings and then we remember that spring, if the future is anything like the past, is right around the corner.  But of course, in that week before new years and after christmas I was ready to dig myself a cave of self pity, crawl on in, and wallow away the reat of my years.  When i take the time to examine my existence, two things happen: I either glance upon the fleeting expanse of pointlessness and chaos or I come away with a sense of peace and calm, glowing like a kid in a shampoo ad.   I would like to proclaim boldly that I possess such a radiant aura most commonly and once in a blue moon i am belly down in the mud of restrained potential.  But, of course, for me, it is safer to be a mess.  It is an excuse to stay home, and excuse to be alone.  People want to talk to you when you glow, dang it.
                    It is a new year though.  The weather so unapologetically announces it with gusting winds and bitter cold.  Hello, I am here, you look pathetic.  And so, from somewhere, comes a burst of new energy.  It is the day when company is coming for breakfast but my alarm decided to play tricks on me.  I'm flying down the stairs, whirling in and out of the bathroom.  The little things are unimportant now, there's no time to worry about whether I've shaved my armpits.  i am clean and you are here.  i'll take your coat and put on some hot water.  Life is hard and I've got gunk in my eyes.  we've all got gunk in our minds.  tell me more.

lake wobegon.  coffee.  chocolate chip cookies.  mom.  friends.  my house.  baxter. family. 

i feel it moving
settling in my soul like the coolness of autumn
my eyes can not look away
so foreign and yet too familiar
hungry
reaching for something secure
frantic and scattered
trying to dance on water.

so its been a few days.  and to be completely honest, of all the random places i write things down i havent done much of this at all the past few days.  i am in a weird place emotionally.  part unbelief, part uncertainly, part the feeling that i am wasting my time.  i think that i need to take a bit of a break from the computer and from school and from mindless tasks. 

also since ive last written, ive bought plane tickets for romania.  yeah, that is right kids, im off to romania.  to visit who you might ask. well, i don't know for sure.  but basically there are some missionaries that welcomes me to come for a visit when i asked.  so thats where ill be in a week.  wow.

so im gonna get me off this stupid computer. 

would you listen hard enough to understand?

So this might be a grandiose collection of randomness. But in the sense that it is all little bits of my life at the moment, somewhere in thereis a common thread weaving it all together.  And I suppose that makes it your job to look beyond the barrage of broken pieces and see what it once was; what it has all come from.  I can never seem to get something whole out of myself, it always cracks in the moving process.

I finished Calvino's book this morning with a great deal of dark chocolate.  It ended quite fabulously and for the parts I skimmed over, the parts that i relished in really made the book amazing and powerful. He has a real grasp on why we read; what the point of spending hours digesting words on a page really is.  My two favorite quotes from the book (what i felt compelled to post-it note mark):
"They have known her since she was a girl, they know everything there is to know about her, some of them may have been involved with her, now water under the bridge, over and done with; in other words, there is a veil of other images that settles on her image and blurs it, a weight on memories that keep me from seeing her as a person seen for the first time, other people's memories suspended like the smoke under lamps."
I think that this is a beautiful, striking image.  The thought that people can never really see someone truly; the impact of one's experiences with others and the impressions of others constantly obscure the reality of who we are.
"The world is so complicated, tangled, and overloaded that to see into it with any clarity you must prune and prune."
And so I prune and prune.  This is really all any of us do when we seek to try and genuinely figure things out.  The harder we look the more we see that very little matters; out vision becomes clearer, less polluted by the garbage we have piled on in an attempt to give ourselves comfort and security.

I've found some new music by Ingrid Michaelson.  Recommended to me by a dear friend who has the same music tastes as me, i was fairly confident she was good before I even listened to her myspace songs.  But this girl is wonderful.  Some of her songs have been on Grey's, but despite how much i love it, im not feeling the need to buy any music right now. ill settle for the four song myspace sampling.  Also Brian Campbell, beautiful.  My friend matt sent his stuff to me.  he's got a true voice.  he'll be in roma in january, too bad ill be in the states.  too bad. 

I wrote some this morning and im loving working on something continuously. For the most part, I write a lot. but i am scattered and random and i write compulsively.  i write in a journal and an online journal and on napkins and in blogs and in letters and e-mails.  every so often i ponder compiling things into a wonderful repository of goodness. and then it strikes me that i would never do anything with that.  the collected works of me would gather dust.  a file on my computer with no meaning, no continuity, no purpose.  why do i write? i write for the moment, i write because i have to.  i write because i need to process and have the rhythm of my pen on the paper or my fingers on the keys.  some days i write just to pass the time, but once the words begin to pulse from my fingers and my body finds the movement, it is almost like dancing with myself.  i rarely read what i have written or even revise it.  is there any point if no one is to read it? which brings me to another point, i never want anyone to read what ive written.  until recently ive been shy about even letting people know that i write so much. 
about a week ago, i took a crazy step.  i sent one of my journals to my friend.  she is perhaps one of those people who know my soul better than i do.  she speaks truth into my life and brings me to honesty.  when i am around her i cannot help but to be brutally honest.  of course she is in the states right now and it is painful sometimes to ot be able to share coffee with her and cry openly and freely.  but i just needed to give her these writings of mine.  Id been reading them one day because i thought about how i hadnt written there in a while and wondered what the heck i had written, and i saw a brief glimpse of something pretty crazy.  i was taken aback by the person who had written these things.  i was surprised by what i read and drawn in.  i knew that i had written every word with the intention that no one would ever see them and yet i didn't know the person who had written this.  it was touching and powerful and intense.  and i knew that it was me.  it was a part of me that i dont show to people, but that i wanted to be able to give.  since ive shared it with her, i havent added anything to it. 

there is this blog ive been reading for a while.  i found it a bit randomly, but i read it all the time.  the guy that writes it is beautiful.  he bares his soul and is open.  i really respect everything he writes there, i envy the way he lives life, the way he is about to be so honest.  i think it is weird that i read these things about him and he doesn't know who i am.  im toying with the idea of e-mailing him just to thank him for feeding my soul in the way he does.  i think id want to know if someone was touched by what i wrote. 

im a little homesick.  i dont know what im homesick for exactly.  i know that God is in Italy.  i know this time is full of purpose, ready to give birth to the next path in my life.  i am still attached to the familiar.  i still seek out comfort.  ive not given up my security.  my life is still me own, but im trying to let go of it.  and it is a lot harder than it sounds. 

If I had to pick one thing that has happened to me over the past few months in the spirit of reflection, it would be that I'm having the curious experience of the cementing of my identity.  Now I don't know what exactly it means to have a secure identity and to be honest I hope that my identity is never really cemented exactly.  Because that would be a very boring existence.  But I am loving being secure in the current condition of my identity and the fact that it will be ever changing. 
So I've been struck with a bit of a goal setting bug lately and I don't want to be a setter of empty goals which I've tended towards in the past.  Im a dreamer and a planner and typically not one to follow through on plans.  I live a simple life, dancing through a simple existence.  And elaborate goals aren't part of that life. 
But some goals must be.  And I know now that in the past, I've not been bold enough or confident enough; I just haven't had the balls. Now though, it is becoming easier to figure out what I want to commit to and what is just a dream; what I really want and what is really important. 
And so when I say I want to learn italian or to hike across the states or to run a marathon, i think for the first time ever i may be serious.  maybe, or maybe i am just becoming a bit homesick or this is the way that my homesickness is going to present itself.  But I hope it is for real.  And then again, if I dont fulfill these goals, were they  really so important to me to begin with?
On a side note, but a slightly related side note, I've been talking myself into a loving relationship with my body.  A relationship that is accepting and understanding and forgiving.  One that values fitness over emaciation.  And while writing this I realize how odd it might seem that I talk to my body, we have conversations a lot of the time.  Being in a culture that loves to eat and enjoy life and relax, it is a new experience for me to join Italians in their gusto for eating and drinking.  And in a way, this is the perfect place for me to learn to eat again.  To watch those around me and take my cues from them. 
Am I getting a little pudgy? I don't really know.  But what I do know I that the wine last night was amazing and that I love cheese and pasta and olive oil.  I also know that I am letting myself play outside a lot.  I can only hope that it won't get too cold too fast.  But i hear that the inevitable is happening this weekend. 
Im still toying with the whole school issue... I wish I could get some solid advice but I dont know who to ask.  The mom has been a bit MIA the past few days and I think I'd want to bring it up with her first.  After all, I'd probably end up back in her house if I went through with it. 

this afternoon i got a profile on goodreads.com so that i can keep track of the books i've read and the books that i want to read.  i really love to read and can't even begin to explain how much withdrawl i'm going through not having a full english language library in italy.  there is a small collection of books available to me, but it just isn't the same.
Also, it is time for me to start looking at classes for the spring semester.  And so, while it may feel like this question pops into my head every semester, do i want to stay in school? i've been thinking really seriously about dropping out to head in a different direction.  im feeling suffocated by the restraints of the college schedule and im not expecting a piece of paper to provide me with an exceptional amount of freedom in a few years.  so if im not in this to expand my experience in the present and am not expecting it to open the doors i want to walk through when i graduate, what is the point? i guess i just need to do a lot more thinking about the whole thing.  i hear mixed ideas from everyone.  its hard to know how seriously to take advice from people, especially when it can be just as enthusiastic and passionate one way as it is the other.  i dont think that id really be "quitting" school, just following my passions in a different direction.  which if you ask me, is pretty sweet.
missing the mom a bit. loving the italy. chocolate croissant, anyone?