so I don't actually need a Thundershirt...

Epiphany: I am calmed by writing.

Duh.


After several days of major mood swings, shifts, plummets and lifts, I remembered. Writing fixes me.

Duh.





My excuses have been these:

I have nothing to say.
I am tired, can't you see how much I do between work and school?
Nobody reads this anyway.



Writing is my therapy, my anxiety pill, and source of sanity. I've known that since I was ten and got my first diary.write it out and forget.write it out and live.
Duh.
Let's hope I don't forget again. If not for my sake, than for Matt's sanity. ;)

Wishing everyone a contented New Year,
Manda

can I please just stay home and color?

This stint of my life is killing me.

I was designed for creativeness.
It's in the spare time, not the time I created out of procrastination, but the truly spare time that I never have anymore; that's when I'm at peace. Because I can read, learn, and write these scribbles with energy that I now lack. I can bake a pie and make a necklace. I can finally learn to sew and knit. I can take pictures and travel. I can live with passion, breathe with vigor, and dream with inspiration.

I spend so much of these days reading things I don't want to read, writing things I could write better in a different way...in my own way.
I burn myself out.

And I really, really don't want to do it anymore.

red pens and wine

I think I've started a bad habit. But my goodness---these stories are awful.
Seriously, do you know what proofreading is? Is there a reason you're writing in passive voice and switching tenses in every other sentence?



I always planned on getting my teaching certificate, not because I want to teach, but because I don't plan on sticking to any one career. I want to see the world, not get stuck in one corner of it. Even as a kid, I had a dozen different 5-year-plans. The plan I'm on now involves all natural dog food and an English degree. Next year's plan? I don't really know, but it may involve teaching--so I was prepared to take the necessary tests.

But...NO.
I've got red ink smeared across my face and some girl's paper.
F I'm going to fail you all. That's how much patience I have.
Teaching may not make it into any of my plans.
Please Note:
Hay= Horse's hay
Hey=Hello


Despite my complete lack of understanding, compassion, patience,*any attribute of grace enter here*, I've found a way to write, what I think, is a decent and helpful critique.
And it's name is Pinot Noir and Hershey's Dark Chocolate.

Here's to reading 17 more.

it's all in the footwear

I woke up late today. I needed to be up earlier than normal; early enough to read the newspaper (because the journalism department likes to do pop quizzes on current events). I wanted to fix my chipped, snagging-on-everything nails. I wanted to eat breakfast and feel somewhat organized.

I managed to do all of this with the exception of one tiny organizational issue---myself.
I left the house in a pair of too-short yoga pants, a grungy looking Boston shirt, flip-flops and an afro.

The pajama look I can deal with. It's comfy and I deserve to be a bum at least once a week. The afro, well that couldn't be fixed. Rainy days equal frizzy curls no matter how much time I spend on my hair in the morning. And it was storming.
But the flip flops induced one of those hell days. You know those days when you're running late and a guy on a skateboard just passed the train you're waiting on? Or the weather channel says it's going to be in the 70s, but really it stays in the 50s and you're stuck with wet, freezing feet?Or you have to drop off Lily(the devil puppy) at a friends house, but she refuses to move out of the drivers seat? For THAT day, I blame the flip flops. (my logic is sound, don't argue)


~~~~

I'm sleeping till noon tomorrow.

A Beer and a Bath

Laura just disappeared,beer in hand,to her tub. And I have never been so jealous.
We have to move.
Sitting in the shower does not make it a bath...not even with a few lit candles.

Back in the house, I would take baths for everything. If I was cold, if I was cramping, if I had a headache, if I was too lazy to stand in the shower.

But really, I miss the stillness of it. I can't lay in bed and relax. I have to read, which means I should be reading media law or something British. I have to turn on the TV, but only to keep flipping the channels in case something better comes on.
But with a bath...I am still. I listen as the water tumbles and swirls around me. I am warmed and my brain is sidetracked by the thundering drops; what headache? what cramps?
I am off the hook for not being productive--because I am. I'm soaking my skin in bubbly, almond goodness. I'm allowed to be still, and productively unproductive until I am over-heated and wrinkled.

I need a tub.
But all I have is a beer.

Confessional

I have this trouble with staying on task. I get so easily side-tracked by day-to-day being. Trivial things like feature stories and dishes take over my mind. There's no room for anything else.
But than important things, like Matt, take over. Dishes and stories are pushed out to make room for dates and love and looking pretty. And still...there's no room for anything.


I have known what needed to be done. I have known how much easier it is to stay in tune with God simply by staying in His word..And still, I never made room.


I'm not stupid. I know this isn't Christian living, I know that the door to Heaven is narrow. I know I put school and Matt before God.
I know I've stayed quiet or stopped writing, because anytime I talked about my relationship with Jesus, it sounded so incredibly cheesy. And as a creative, English girl...I have this need to stay away from cheese and clichés. I know all this.

And it's taken a community group ,that has become my family in every way, to finally put me back on task.

Stand Still

I hold back, I do. And not in the areas I should be holding back in, like my mouth and the too honest things that sometimes(a lot) come out of it or from eating a butt-load of chocolate; for these things I'm all in.

Rather, I hold back from prayer and studying God's word. Because it's these things that have the power to change me.

I'm not against change. I like to try new things, I want to be a better person. I have a complete picture(and list) of the girl I want to be---to change into.
Just not yet.
Because changing now, means not being this girl, with these desires. It means leaving people in a different chapter...too far from me.
I hold back.

from peace to puppy

There's something about walking at night. It has this calming effect on my mind, yet I always feel inspired by my senses, rejuvenated and ready. Even with a puppy who spazzes about--darting back and forth from sidewalk to grass to mailbox, tripping me every few seconds. That peaceful, contemplative night still hovers about; it dares me to think deeper; to breathe deeper.
The smell of laundry overtakes most of our apartment complex. Not dirty laundry, or mildewed towels, but fresh, clean, soaked-in-detergent laundry. It is my favorite smell in the world (besides Matt) and can lighten my soul with one drag.


Tonight's goal was observation. I want to remember more, I need to notice. So tonight, I practiced.

I wish more people would leave their windows open...that would have made my discoveries a little more interesting. But today's world is private, and it isn't safe to let it be known that you have an 82" Flat screen. Neighbors aren't always nice.

In the neighborhood behind the complex, there's this giant crack in the road that goes from one side of the street to the other. Okay, it's really not that giant, but the ants probably refer to it as the Grand Canyon..or so I'd imagine.

Now for some reason Lily is obsessed with cracks (no dirty jokes, please). She likes to lick them (once again, refrain). Maybe it's because the cracks at the store are sometimes filled with bits of crushed dog food. Or maybe it's because she's a demon and knows that Laura and I forbid her from sticking her tongue anywhere but in her own food bowls. Either or, she decided this crack in the road was hers to conquer and I was just going to have to drag,push,and all but carry her away from it.

So I did.

And that's the last thing I really remember noticing, because every 5 seconds I'd have to yell, "Lily! DROP IT," as she went from rock to leaf to cigarette butt to stick to rock.


But hey, I got to practice my observation skills and am happy to report that she swallowed NOTHING.

Tantrums and Spectrums

I seem to go into these temperamental tantrum states where I want every thing in the world and nothing at all. Say the right words, but leave me alone. The great part is it gets me talking. I don't always tell you when I'm bothered, I don't always acknowledge that I'm hurt. But these temperamental tantrum states, they betray my secrets, and I can't quite play the together card.

You want to know what I think?
Tell me something.
It's the easiest thing in the world. As humans we are a spectrum of emotions. Every moment of every day triggers something. You got a ticket, you're annoyed. You saw the best commercial ever, and you're inspired. You got spit on by a two-year old. You're stressing over class because _______. You've been thinking about ______ lately.

Tell me something, anything at all.
It's the easiest thing in the world.


Or maybe you truly don't have anything to say. Maybe you really are always good, never stressing, wondering, annoyed, nervous, or curious. Maybe it's just me who's the spectrum.

Dear David,

I write to you because you can't write back. You won't advise me, comfort me, or sway me through your thoughts to be any different than I am. I write to you, because I need to write, and I can't write to the world, to my friends, to my family,or for myself. So here,now, I choose you.

There's all these changes happening. The funny thing is..most of these changes I've been meaning to facilitate (for months), and their happening on their own.

For instance, my soda habit(dependency)---gone. Not because I'm self-disciplined enough to quit buying Diet Dr.Pepper(a New Year's Goal,I'm pretty sure), but because I literally become nauseous after the first few sips.
Those 'huge' meals I would binge out on at the end of the day--are no more. Every couple of hours I snack on fruits or whole-grain-somethings or I become sick. So goodbye to forgetting meals and hello, healthy living. (Oh and thank you, Acid-Reflux)

I have two semesters left before I can hang an English degree (Journalism minor) on my wall. Actually I'm thinking I'll have it standing on top of my bookshelf..no more holes in the wall.

TWO MORE SEMESTERS and I haven't written a thing in months. Why? Couldn't tell you.
I have so much left to learn, so much I keep forgetting, and I cannot write; call it writer's block, cold feet, or what you may. But with this fall semester comes 3 hardcore writing classes..So write, I shall. And I'm starting with you.

Our Community Groups with Fellowship started (finally)! It's amazing to see the connections all of us have despite us being strangers. Like the leader, Brandon Edgerson, he shops in our store.Great guy. We're beginning lesson 2 and I already love them all.

See? So many changes and I initiated exactly none of them. Wish you were here to see the Fall.
Forgive me for choppy letter writing;it's the best I can do these days.

Love you always,
Manda