sometimes the devil sounds a lot like worry.

i'm weepy today because i need to get my period and today, for the first time,  i feel completely displaced and like everything's not ok.

i hate February, and if this is some weird foreshadowing, i'm saying no. just no.

tomorrow, i'm gonna date myself. im not even sure what that means except for that i'm going to do things that make me happy...only i'm gonna do it in woodbury becaue i've driven a lot this week.

so there's that.

I'm waiting on a change in the weather, i'm waiting on a change in me....

My favorite things and people are also my biggest heart aches.

and maybe that's because they take up such a large amount of space.

Well, here's a bunch of random.....

Rita just texted me. She's a grandma for the second time. i'm excited for her, and Randy, too. i think they'll be really great grandparents.

I love Rita a lot. I might quite sure how to classify her in my life, but  she's just kind always there and she just kind of always knows.

I mean, she feels things in her spirit, which is ridiculous, but i also kind of love it. While i'm not a train wreck, and i'm not looking for a mom, i did need somebody to start showing me how to do things and she did that.

(i'm really into run-ons right now, so just whatever about it, ok?)

Sometimes i think, before we're born,  we're all lined up and God picks out the people who will be in your life then hold on to them until the right time.

When i first met Rita, it was awkward. Let me just tell you all of my best relationships start awkwardly, or with me not liking the person, or thinking they don't like me. Whenever one of those things happen....its a relationship for the books. for real.

It was one of my first visits to the grove ever. I arrived on a friday night to visit my old roommate. I was 21 and i had no idea then what a big deal she'd be in my life.

upon arrival at Melissa's (old roommate, former best friend) she promptly demanded we go to target and then over to "rita's" for a "girls night"

first of all. Let me just tell you how much i hate the phrase "girls night." I hate it with everything in me. I think its dumb. Why do you gotta call it anything...why can you just go and be with your friends.

Anyway...we arrive at a really big house, with really nice things, and a whole bunch a cool kids who are all beautiful and look cute and appear to have known each other from the womb. I am the wild card who is in ripped jeans and an old sweat shirt who just drove 4 hours to see her best friend whom she hadn't seen in weeks because summer separated us. This was NOT my idea of a good time.

Everything smelled like anthropology and looked like pottery barn. (it still does but i love it now.)

Just as i was dreading, i walked away from the night feelin' like a wild card, wondering why exactly my train wreck of a roommate was friends with any of those people.

I couldn't understand it. they seemed....exclusive, and stuck up and real church-y. not my jam.

Those people who would later become real important characters in my life.

long story, long.....i walked away from that night with a strange first impression.

But God's funny, and all he was saying to us, me and Rita that is, is "not yet, but soon."  Part of me thinks that it was some kind of weird trick, like i was all judgey about them....and then he's all like....oh...you're wrong, Nicole. You're so wrong about rita anyway...maybe not  about the others.

And i was. Rita is a gem. There are times when you want to #firstworldproblem her. and give her some perspective.....but I love her because she loves Jesus, and she's generous and she tries to do the right thing. I love her because she always feeds me, and taught me about wine and lets me take naps on the good couch and invites me to the cabin and processes with me and prays for me.  While i was worried about her leaving the Gallery and what that would mean for our relationship, i'm so thankful that church isn't our common denominator, but trying to be more like Jesus is.

People brought  us together but they weren't the reason our relationship has sustained. I'm very thankful that i have a Rita. That she loves me well and was a soft place to land when i needed it.....although...she was part of the reason i needed a soft place to land...but if i dont' let that go....it'll just keep being a dumb thing. so...away it goes.

so....there rita...in a rambly mess.

i didn't do anything i really planned on doing today.

Waste of a cold day. eh. tomorrow is another day.

let the rain come down....

i feel like i'm running out of things to say....which might mean i am running out of things to process. 

which might be a good thing.  Grammy's last night were mucho entertaining. 

so here's some sara for you.  this is just a happy little thing when the outside makes you want to cuss....

Confessions of a former cool kid.

Once upon a time, I was a cool kid. I got invited to all the cool kid things and got to know all the cool kid gossip and got to be waist deep in cool kid chaos.

and it was...well...cool, until it wasn't.

Now, i'm not a cool kid. My cool kid friends have all but disappeared, but not really. the kind of disappeared where they're still around it just seems like they forgot about you. they are like cool kid shadows now. Kind of ever present reminders of what was...once. upon a time.

The truth is, really, i was that kid in the circle of the popular ones that was only in the club because they do stuff for the real popular kids.

i was basically the cool kid water boy.

what the fuck is that?

This is mostly because in almost every friendship. I am a crisis friend? Is your life upside down? Cool, i can help even if mine is also falling apart. No big deal, though, i'm totally fine. i got my stuff and yours, don't even worry.

And this is actually the story of my life. People call me when they need me and then they don't and that is our little tennis match of life.

You serve, i volley immediately, because my first thought is, well, that's what friends do. That's why we don't sprint through life alone.

Well, everyone is dumb. And i'm still mad at all the cool kids, and surprised, though i shouldn't be, that i've faded into the background so seamlessly like i was never even there.

I guess that's what happens when you're only had a visitors pass into the club.

It's like a gym. a really shitty, really stuck up gym.who makes people feel bad about what they bring to the table and if you're not worth it, they wont help you.  Except that they were/are the church.

And sometimes, i wonder what Jesus thinks of all of this because his name is attached to all of it.

I wish i could say "recovered" from being a cool kid, but mostly i just left with no warning or anything. one day i was just gone and at first, people noticed but it lasted about 2 weeks. Then people got a little annoyed because i wasn't there to do their bitch work. And then, people just got a little bitchy,

aint nobody got time for that. in all of it, no one really ever stopped to ask me why or how i was  since my exit.

And that kind pisses me off especially because they all still call when they need something. of course they do...when that all you've ever known, it makes sense, right?

people.are.dumb.

The silver lining in all of it. That i'm not as crazy any more. I feel a little bit more even keel even though  my day to day is "best day ever, but everyone is the worst" kind of mentality.

All my non-church, former cool kid friends and i have tried to get back together but the thing is, once you realize you're the water boy and that's not what you want to be any more. it's kind of easy to tell people to fuck off.  even though, there is a tiny part of me that wants back in so i can always have plans and be the keeper of all the deats.

All that to say, Friday i realized that while i'm in a way better spot than i have been, i'm still real mad at the people who are dumb and I'm not sure how long it will take for me to not think they are the dumbest humans ever. Maybe when they stop expecting me to be their first responder.

I realize that this entire post sounds....angry, but it's really not. I'm in a good place. I didn't LOVE figuring out that i'm the water boy, but i never like hearing the truth when it's like that...yikes.

and eventually as much as i don't want to hear things, i accept it, and i start fixing it.

Although, i feel like this time, i'm kind of starting all over. New church, new friends, new priorities.

Turns out, people don't really miss me when i'm gone.

and i think that's ok.

Dreaming of spring.
but not of better tomorrows
because lately,
my todays are pretty rock star.
thankful for the now.
excited for the future.

Well, if that's love, it comes at much to high a cost.....

Here's the deal after spending some time that was borderline grueling with my old homies, and then immediately following that getting facebooked messaged out of sheer need, i'd decided that....

the cool kids can take a hike. My old pals, we'll just have to see. There are things that just don't feel worth it any more.

I came home after a lock in and snuggled up with Lisa and we chatted and drank coffee and it great. She makes me feel like i'm not crazy and she makes me feel loved and that's all you can really ask in a friend.

and i'm glad I get to claim her.

The A team is where my heart is and where i want to be. That's all i know for now, and that's ok.

so...yeah, cool.

i ate too much this weekend and i've been up for 30+ hours.

I'm ready to call it a day. :)

late night/early morning lock in thoughts....

i really like that they're are people in my life whom i just keep thinking are amazing and who get cooler every single day and never fail to surprise me.

and who have chairs in their office where i can catnap for an hour and also blankets.

today, after being up for 23 hours, lisa is at the top of my cool list.

she always kind of is, but today especially.

BASICALLY

This is the truth: This last year was the best yet. I can’t fully shake myself into a shiny new 2014 without stopping to hold out my hands with gratitude for 2013. It was a big, wild, good, challenging, fantastic year for me. It wore me out, taught me, changed me, pushed me, delighted me. This year was a feast, a firehose.

Divine interventions at 3:30 in the morning

Last night, or, well, this morning, i guess, I woke up at like 3:30. Wide awake, kind of awake. I'm clearly not into subtle, at all, and thankfully neither is God.

When i wake up in the middle of the night, i know it's because i'm supposed to be praying, but as i was laying there, i wasn't sure what exactly i should start praying for. That's not to say that there are not things i'm praying for, but at that moment nothing was really weighing on me at it was 3:30 in the morning.

This was a not so subtle reminder that i have NOT been chatting with God. I haven't prayed about as much as i've thought about it. "it" being all the things that i should be praying about. i haven't really prayed with intention in forever. i'll say passing "hey, work in this" kind of prayers. but sitting down, reading and talking to god....well, it's been awhile.

So, i spewed, i hung out in the gap for a long time. i prayed for my attitude and my heart there is a TON of work that needs to be done there.

When i'm not doing what i'm supposed to do to maintain a relationship, it feels distant and like it's crumbling, so...at 3:30 in the morning, the message was received. i need to do more and i need to be better about it because when i don't, i feel off kilter.

So, there's that.

in other news, Katy Perry will be here in August. I'm beside myself.

i mean, if you can't laugh at yourself.....

I can't believe a year's gone by so fast....

Well, it's been a year, basically, since i moved to the Grove. Since I moved in with, then almost strangers.

What a year it's been. I don't know what i excepted, so, i can't really tell you if things have turned out the way i expected, but in general, this whole thing is an interesting turn in my life so...there's that

I will tell you though, almost nothing turns out like i plan, so....there have been some curve balls.

But...over all...i'd say it's been good. Really good, actually, at least from my heart's perspective.

i wonder what they think, though. Am I what they expected? If we could rewind, would we do it again? What have we learned from this year of sharing space, and stories and life and food? It would be an interesting conversation.

I always worried about things that are unsaid especially expectations and mostly i just worry that i'll find a way to ruin everything, i'll self-destruct it so i wont have to wait for things to go south.

You'll excuse me if i'm worried about important people in my life all of sudden not being in my life.

So much of my wishes that the last year wasn't full of my acting like a 15 year old good with mood swings every 3 seconds and being sad a lot, and crying. and whatever. but the reality is if that wouldn't have been my state. If i would have my shit together, i don't think things would have ended up like this, and i know we wouldn't be as close, who knows what our relationship would have looked like.

Again, good thing my plans never work. I would have missed out on something life changing.

What is God teaching me? Well, he's breaking me. he's exposing all the junk that i like to hide, and he's making me humble, he's making me more compassionate, /he's teaching me to love sacrificially.  teaching me to process inside my head, to filter. To only speak when what i'm going to say is going to be encouraging, helpful or will honor Jesus.

I still suck at that last part but i'm trying. That's all you can ask from anyone, to try, and honestly try.

I have a lot of work to do, but i'll get there....

hot chocolate and homework

I don't quite remember how life was before the A-Team or what i did with my time, or what I did instead of homework and reading, but I do know that i DONT want to forget what homework and hot chocolate, kitchen table life, and morning doorway conversations feel like.

This is a sweet, sweet time, and I just think it's funny, how much i love these rhythms we've all fallen into, and how it's going to be a rad part of our stories.

and while it's not without it's hiccups, i can't imagine being anywhere else. This picture isn't even a year old but he looks so much older now,sitting here in front of me and he occupies an even bigger place in my heart. And, at some point, he'll be taller than I am and he wont be so excited about "me and you" nights.

this is just a cute little song and vid for your monday. :)

if at some point there is a boy who says this about me, i wont be upset. :)

Silence is the loudest parting word you'll never say....

My head is full.  to the tippy. tippy. top. and as a result, i just looooooose it. and really, you'd understand completely if i upacked it for you. 

So many thoughts. So many questions. So many prayers. 

so much to say. 

But there are hearts and relationships to be considered. and protected. 

Anyway. i'll try harder. i'll be better. 

I say that a lot, and failing miserably at least means i'm trying. 

Anyway. St. Paul was the best part of yesterday, went to some of my fave stops and i drank a truck load of coffee and read a bunch...even though i was crabby and confused and a little sad...that city just does the best things for my soul. 

Anthro on wednesday. I think Anthro Wednesday should be a quarterly thing, or more frequent if you're life in a cluster. 

I've literally turned this blog into tumblr. most of my thoughts should never be seen. 

eh, whatever.

As I type, my friend Laura just texted me that one of the boys i had a MAJOR crush on in high school....like wanted to marry him....died today. 

What? i can't even wrap my mind around that. He had a 2 or 3 year old daughter and his wife is pregnant. so sad. 

well...here's to a week where i'm not a horrible friend or person. 

God, work your magic on me, please. 

Starting over.

well, this weekend, except for friday, was kind of the worst in recent history.

Here's to a new week.

love

That's what i love about Sundays....

one bullshit night in suck city...

today was kind of terrible. But next year they're going to start publishing JD Salinger's stuff....and I cannot not even wait.

my phone rings.

me: Hello
Jabs: hey, what are you doing?
me: I'm at the book store.
Jabs: Uh-oh, whats wrong?
me: What? nothing, i'm reading.
Jabs: what are you reading?
Me: Hemingway
Jabs: You're at a bookstore on a saturday night, reading Hemingway and you're going to tell me you're fine.
Me: umm, yeah. I've also got a Biography and a Nora Ephrem book.
Jabs: Well, i've met you, so i know you're lying. I'm at a Wild Game. otherwise you could come over. I have wine.
Me: I hate that you know me.
Jabs: you love it.
Me: ok, well. why did you call?
Jabs: i was thinking we should do a family dinner soon.
me: umm....ok, yeah.
Jabs: ok , good.
me....good.

when the deck is stacked against me, i just play a different game...

cozy chair in the corner with the outlet....reading blogs and as much poetry as my brain can handle. which isn't a lot.

I am itching for a project  and a reason to be creative.

also...i'm making friends with all the people here, we've all shared a laugh and some sort of knowing glance that this city is magic.

Child of weakness watch and pray, find in me, thine all in all.....

I kind of love how funny life is, most of the time, it's like ha-ha funny at my expense. Or, at least, it seems that way.

Yesterday, though, life was just exactly what i needed it to be. I'd be lying if i said i felt overwhelming amounts of love lately, and i'd be lying if i said i didn't need a tangible reminder. Yesterday, i laughed with my coworkers a lot, i got drive by coffee-ed, my dad gave me money, just because.

There's a whole lot of love in my life, and i'm so thankful.

Last January, I picked two words that i wanted to follow me through 2013, and to be honest, I kind of forgot about them half way through the year. I'm pretty sure they were peace and obedience. I think i did an okay job of them, i guess. Although, peace...is still a work in progress....i mean, i guess obedience is, too. Whatever. I like to make things complicated, which is a little ironic.


This year, i'm picking two new words. Why, well, mostly because lisa told me to, but it's an interesting take an a New Years...thing...and y'all know how i feel about new years. so...i'll take the challenge.

This year my words are "celebration" and "simplicity" and let me tell you why.

1. last year was about hurt and healing. so, i was sad a lot. and now, well, i think that i need to shift my focus a little. I think it's important to feel what you're feeling. I think it's important to have time to just be where you are...even if it's in the trenches of sadness, and as annoying it is for other people. I needed a good solid year to lose my mind, feel sad and figure out how to feel better.

And now, i feel a lot better, so, i want to celebrate what's good and who's good in my life instead of focusing on Who hurt me and What sucks. So, this year, i want to celebrate things and people that are good. I want to be excited that it's sunny and that it smells like spring, and that God has carried all of us to this point.

So, that's cool.

2. i tend to be over dramatic and I tend to over complicate situations.And really, i don't need to. At all. Really, i just need to be honest, ask for what i need, and call it a day and remember that not everyone is trying to break my heart.

So. those are my words, and i'll probably forget about them, and they're will still be days where i feel like no one loves me....but i'm going to try hard for 2014 to be a year of celebration. 

For katie.

let the axis twirl, i'm a happy girl.....

I'm going to start asking people very serious questions about our relationships and my role in their lives.

And finish weeding people our according to their answers.

and then just start over.


so, that'll be fun.

it is a tale told by idiot full of sound and fury, signifying nothing....

I dig Macbeth.

people make me crazy. even the ones i love a lot.

someone tell me they love me because i'm not feelin' it from anywhere.

k. good.

I made this beautiful metaphor today about how life is like a story board and it totally worked.

and if everyone really dies in the end, then life really is, by definition, a tragedy. 

people are annoying but this short story is my favorite.

Eleven

By Sandra Cisneros

What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you are—underneath the year that makes you eleven.

Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like if you’re three, and that’s okay. That’s what I tell Mama when she’s sad and needs to cry. Maybe she’s feeling three.

Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That’s how being eleven years old is.

You don’t feel eleven. Not right away. It takes a few days, weeks even, sometimes even months before you say Eleven when they ask you. And you don’t feel smart eleven, not until you’re almost twelve. That’s the way it is.

Only today I wish I didn’t have only eleven years rattling inside me like pennies in a tin Band-Aid box. Today I wish I was one hundred and two instead of eleven because if I was one hundred and two I’d have known what to say when Mrs. Price put the red sweater on my desk. I would’ve known how to tell her it wasn’t mine instead of just sitting there with that look on my face and nothing coming out of my mouth.

“Whose is this?” Mrs. Price says, and she holds the red sweater up in the air for all the class to see. “Whose? It’s been sitting in the coatroom for a month.”

“Not mine,” says everybody. “Not me.”

“It has to belong to somebody,” Mrs. Price keeps saying, but nobody can remember. It’s an ugly sweater with red plastic buttons and a collar and sleeves all stretched out like you could use it for a jump rope. It’s maybe a thousand years old and even if it belonged to me I wouldn’t say so.

Maybe because I’m skinny, maybe because she doesn’t like me, that stupid Sylvia Saldivar says, “I think it belongs to Rachel.” An ugly sweater like that, all raggedy and old, but Mrs. Price believes her. Mrs. Price takes the sweater and puts it right on my desk, but when I open my mouth nothing comes out.

“That’s not, I don’t, you’re not . . . Not mine,” I finally say in a little voice that was maybe me when I was four.

“Of course it’s yours,” Mrs. Price says, “I remember you wearing it once.” Because she’s older and the teacher, she’s right and I’m not.

Not mine, not mine, not mine, but Mrs. Price is already turning to page thirty-two, and math problem number four. I don’t know why but all of a sudden I’m feeling sick inside, like the part of me that’s three wants to come out of my eyes, only I squeeze them shut tight and bite down on my teeth real hard and try to remember today I am eleven, eleven. Mama is making a cake for me for tonight, and when Papa comes home everybody will sing Happy birthday, happy birthday to you.

But when the sick feeling goes away and I open my eyes, the red sweater’s still sitting there like a big red mountain. I move the red sweater to the corner of my desk with my ruler. I move my pencil and books and eraser as far from it as possible. I even move my chair a little to the right. Not mine, not mine, not mine.

In my head I’m thinking how long till lunchtime, how long till I can take the red sweater and throw it over the schoolyard fence, or leave it hanging on a parking meter, or bunch it up into a little ball and toss it in the alley. Except when math period ends Mrs. Price says loud and in front of everybody, “Now, Rachel, that’s enough,” because she sees I’ve shoved the red sweater to the tippy-tip corner of my desk and it’s hanging all over the edge like a waterfall, but I don’t care.

“Rachel,” Mrs. Price says. She says it like she’s getting mad. “You put that sweater on right now and no more nonsense.”

“But it’s not—“

“Now!” Mrs. Price says.

This is when I wish I wasn’t eleven, because all the years inside of me—ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and one—are pushing at the back of my eyes when I put one arm through one sleeve of the sweater that smells like cottage cheese, and then the other arm through the other and stand there with my arms apart like if the sweater hurts me and it does, all itchy and full of germs that aren’t mine.

That’s when everything I’ve been holding in since this morning, since when Mrs. Price put the sweater on my desk, finally lets go, and all of a sudden I’m crying in front of everybody. I wish I was invisible but I’m not. I’m eleven and it’s my birthday today and I’m crying like I’m three in front of everybody. I put my head down on the desk and bury my face in my stupid clown-sweater arms. My face all hot and spit coming out of my mouth because I can’t stop the little animal noises from coming out of me, until there aren’t any more tears left in my eyes, and it’s just my body shaking like when you have the hiccups, and my whole head hurts like when you drink milk too fast.

But the worst part is right before the bell rings for lunch. That stupid Phyllis Lopez, who is even dumber than Sylvia Saldivar, says she remembers the red sweater is hers! I take it off right away and give it to her, only Mrs. Price pretends like everything’s okay.

Today I’m eleven. There’s a cake Mama’s making for tonight, and when Papa comes home from work we’ll eat it. There’ll be candles and presents and everybody will sing Happy birthday, happy birthday to you, Rachel, only it’s too late.

I’m eleven today. I’m eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and one, but I wish I was one hundred and two. I wish I was anything but eleven, because I want today to be far away already, far away like a runaway balloon, like a tiny o in the sky, so tiny-tiny you have to close your eyes to see it.

Nothing matters but the weekend from a Tuesday's point of view.

hey cosmos....who wants to coffee date me tomo and tell me i'm cool? i could kinda use it.

I think people are interesting, and i like watching them exist....

I always have a lot of questions and mostly i keep my mouth shut.

something that belongs on the wall...of my furture house or office or....something....

baby it's cold outside.

i haven't left the house in two days, and i don't even care. when you have your faves and food and the internet, you don't need much else.


i don't really care if it ever gets warm again.

that's a lie, i totally do, but i like being "colded in" it's like being snowed in but less work because i don't have to shovel.

I work in profanity the other people work in oils or clay. It's my true medium.

There are days when i am like "what am i doing?" I HAVE NO IDEA.

That's today. The internet makes me feel dumb and frustrated and I just have no idea. In life. At all.

So, that's fun and also stupid.

also, a saw A Christmas Story 5 times this year. It's fine.

I think it's really fun to remember when and how you fell in love with the people and the things in your life.

a flip book or ordinary moments, that when put together is a slow motion movie of how your heart beats.

A little EE Cummings this morning, because poetry for breakfast can be a beautiul thing

Go, go, go on an adventure.....

I've had that in my head for the past two days. The Cat and the Hat does know a lot about that.

Well, I had myself and adventure last night. I like that somehow, my people just know, or they don't and it just happened to work out.

or maybe we all just needed the same thing.

Either way, i'm thankful.

It's gonna be cold as shit tomo so none of us have to go to work. Holla. Cold Day.

let's just go...

Remember when i had friends, and weekend plans? and people wanted to hang out with me?

I'm glad that my life has calmed down, a lot. Trust me, I am., but i don't think I'll ever get over people not wanting to see me and hang with me. the way they did.

I think i need an adventure. Not a big one, just a day trip somewhere...even if it's to minneapolis.

and maybe i need to loose my mind a little...all of this really great behavior stuff is nice, but sometimes i need to just cut loose a little. I want to laugh and take some pictures and make new favorite memories.

Everything I've done heaven's seen and God keeps on forgiving me.

I wonder things a lot.

I wonder what my life will be like a couple of years. I wonder if I'll even stop not knowing what i'm going to do, who i'm becoming, and what's to come, and if i'll ever stop learning lessons the hard way. i wonder what about me makes me invisible to some people when everything about my personality screams *look at me*

I also wonder what it's like to be on the receiving end of me, when my heart is pure and big, when i'm snarky and full of *piss and vinegar* (lisa term) and when i'm a steady constant who you almost forget is there because it's just so normal.

And i wonder what is feels like to hear me tell you "no" after i've always said yes, and I'm no longer a steady or constant.

i wonder what it's like to feel my absence or my presence. I wonder what it's like not watch me struggle. To get my heart broken and be the cause or know its' happening and do nothing about it. I wonder what its like to miss me, if anyone does.

And i wonder a lot what would happen if we were all just honest. If we said how we really were, if we didn't just pretend everything was fine. If we said what we needed, even if it's small or seems ridiculous, or impossible.

I don't love being disappointed. I like it less than i like being mad. Because being let down, and feeling like you don't quite matter enough....well, that's a different kind of hurt. It's a deeper hurt than anything you could ever be angry about it. And people? Well, they've been pretty disappointing lately.

telling myself this today. a lot.

lovin' this from my girl Annie, Today!

Learning lessons the hard way.
I excelled at this in 2013. Apologizing. Being humbled. Forgiving others. Forgiving myself. Promising myself that will each lesson learned, through each tear and trial, that I will work to retain the wisdom and not cycle through those lessons again.

Hopefully.

All of it has purpose. You know that, right? All the hard days, all the tired days, all the losses and all the gains, the good days, the best days. Every sunrise of 2013 was meant for us and every sunset to remind us that we survived another day.

It's better to say too much, than never to say what you need to say again....

This year, my goal is to change a life, a tire, or a light bulb.

Surrounded by reminders of who she is,
looking out at all that's possbile
her heart beats hard
and she cracks a smile
as if to tell the world
"i've got a few tricks up my sleeve"
and even if they don't all work out
i'll carry the memory with me
like a passport of a life
well lived.

Her bags are worn
and her shoes,
they're dirty.
Drapped in hand me down
dreams and sweatshirts,
she checks her rearview mirror
just to make sure her lip gloss is ok...
and she blows a kiss into the air
leaving her scent on the wind
and she hits the gas.

this is happening...

 

 

new years day. this happened. God is good, and faithful and on the 8th day he created carmel rolls.