changes

I have a full week left at home. Then, I fly off to Chicago for a semester of work, learning, friends, adventure, growth, understanding, and reality. At least, that is some of what I am expecting. The previous listed items are not horrifying in themselves, but then why am I scared to death? My nervousness about Chicago has been present all summer and comes in rolling waves, and now that the adventure is a week away the fear has taken over. What specifically am I afraid of? I do not know if I can pinpoint it. I am afraid of failure. Of the city itself. Of a lot. I have never been a fan of change. Freaking out. Freaking out! Freaking out... I have been told that the nerves and fear will go away when I land--when I am in the city. The anticipation is killing me though. I do have moments of panic attacks. Small ones but they are still there.

I cried on the first day of elementary school, the first day of middle school, the fist day of high school, the fist day of college, the last day of college, and many times between. Yes--I am very emotional. I am expecting to cry the first day in Chicago. I never thought I would miss Dordt or at least wish I was going back. Many people are updating their facebook statuses with phrases such as "at dordt" "packing up for another semester at dordt" "excited to see people at dordt" etc. I do need to remind myself that another semester at Dordt would not be good for me. But, I do wish I would have soaked up the Dordtness while I was there. I am visiting my college in a couple of days. I will say hello and goodbye to friends, hopefully visit some professors (who am I kidding, of course I will visit professors :)), and possibly sit in on a couple social work classes. I will miss the college I have called home for the past three years. The college that I hated before I was there. The college that challenged me in ways I never thought I could be challenged. The college that introduced me to some of my best friends.

I will try to update this more often and write about my adventures in Chicago. We will see where this semester takes me.

love.

It has been a long time and a lot has happened. Also, a lot has stayed the same. I am working two jobs. One, for the company that I have been working for for the past three years--the mentally disabled home. I am located at a different home this summer, which was a bit difficult at first, but now I really enjoy it. I work with four clients--two girls and two boys (I should say two women and two men). They are very high functioning which is very different from the other home. My other job is for a company called DRCC, Duluth Regional Care Center. There, I work as an In Home Service Support Assistant--that is a mouthful. :) Presently, I work with a fourteen year old girl who has cerebral palsy, mild fetal alcohol syndrome, ADD, and is manic depressive. She is such a joy to work with most of the time. She is extremely high functioning and can really do everything herself. So, I work with her four days a week in her home for about 10 hours every day. You think she would get sick of me, but whenever I am about to leave she begs me to stay. There are plenty of days where I want to pull my hair out, but this job has made me grow in my flexibility and patience, which is a bit ironic because I was looking over my personal statement for the social work department this year and the two major things that I listed as things that I wanted to improve upon were flexibility and patience. HEY! I am working on them! :)
The other day, while I was driving my girl--that is what I call her because I am not allowed to say her name--back from a picnic she started talking about how this boy at the picnic asked her out. She got really red and giggly (like the typical girl would--I totally would too). I asked her what she said to him and she turned him down. Good because she is not allowed to date. Anyway, I then asked her what she thought it meant to have a boyfriend and she answered me with "love". I smiled and agreed. I then asked her what she thought love meant and she thought for a while and answered in a questioning tone "flirting". I smiled and said that flirting can have love, but love is much more than flirting. She thought a bit more and said "marriage". That one got me. I thought about it for a bit and told her that her answer is very true but you can have marriage without love and you can have love without marriage. My girl then sat there for a bit and asked me what love really was then. Holy crap. I thought a lot. A lot. I had no idea how to answer that. I had never been asked that question before, and in all honesty I thought I would have an answer--especially because I have been in love before. As I was driving back to her house I was trying to imagine a tangible object floating in the air that I could pick up and hand to her--love. But, no such luck. Then I tried to think about how I know when I am in love with someone and I could not come up with that answer either. It is so complicated. It's trust, comfort, commitment, understanding, compromise, etc. etc. etc. How do you explain such a thing. So, I told her to wait a couple of days and I would think of an answer. I also told her to ask her mother.

I am done with my work rambling. However, now on to other things.

Lately, I have been FREAKING out about Chicago. It is no longer this idea that may or may not happen. It is happening. I am going. I know I have known for a long time, but for some reason it is finally hitting me. My nerves are good nerves though. They are the same nerves I had before I left for college. They are the same nerves I had when I went into job interviews. But, it is frightening. I am growing up. Shit. It is fucking scary and enormously thrilling at the same time. Where did the time go? Where did my time at Dordt go? Am I really done with the school that I have called my home for the past three years?
Also, I have been so afraid of Thailand that I have put off much of my application/information forms. I have known that I am going for just as long as I have known about Chicago, but in my mind this is still a story from another book. Not my book. Not my story. But, I have had to ask myself if I want this to be my story. Do I want to travel the world? Do I want to help those around the world? Do I want to let fear rule my life? Yes. Yes. No. Okay, then I have to act on it. So, tonight after work I sat down and updated my resume and wrote my personal statement. I shuffled some money around and found my deposit money and am set to submit it all tomorrow. Wow.
There is more. And if you are still reading, I apologize. I am in the process of applying to graduate schools. My father printed off a crap load of information on about twenty different social work schools. Of course the University of Michigan is on the top of the list, but it is about $52,000. The University of Minnesota is almost as good and it is about $7,000. There are many other schools and I am looking into all of them, but yet again...commitment. Commitment scares the shit out of me. I do not know when that happened, but it is definite. All forms...jobs, trips, planning my life, marriage, all of it.

Well, overall, after all the rambling, it feels good to get it all out. I am excited but scared shitless. Please, dear reader, pray for me and for strength through this long journey called life.

endings schmendings

I miss you. This evening was difficult, and I am not exactly sure why. Maybe I am slowly realizing that Dordt is now the past and the world is my future. My system of friends is still in place and we are keeping in contact, as much as busy summer schedules allow, but it is different. New friends are in the future, I know that. I have learned that. In one of my social work classes this past semester we ended the class by talking about how we each handle ending things. I handle them horribly; even if I am not directly involved in the thing that is ending, I sometimes take it hard. Ending high school was great; I did not cry the last day nor did I cry at graduation, but I did cry for three days when the first of my friends left. I cried that whole week before. "This is our last Thursday together..." Yes, I was that girl. I cried on the drive down to Iowa, I cried my first couple of nights at Dordt, but then my schema adjusted and I started to really enjoy myself. I know the same thing will happen now, or at least I am hypothesizing so. I cried leaving Dordt, I cried leaving my roommates and friends, and I cried on the drive home. I am sure Chicago will bring tears but I am not afraid of those tears. When I really sit down and think about what is changing, however, I get scared. I hate ending things, but I know beginning things can be amazing.

dirt beneath my fingernails

Presently, I am sitting in my living room with a blanket wrapped around me, slippers on and dirt beneath my fingernails. I forgot how much I enjoy planting flowers and vegetables. Today was spent gardening with my mother, doing laundry, and giving my dog too many treats. A few other things were completed; I finalized plans with a friend that I have not seen since the summer of 2006, sent in my Chicago Semester information, helped my father clean out the garage, killed a spider (by myself!), and enjoyed hamburgers, brats, and fresh watermelon with my family. I put to use my greenhouse skills and created, what I would consider, some beautiful flower arrangements. Tomorrow my mother and I plan on putting the rest of the plants in the ground and placing our pots in strategic areas around our lawn. We are also driving my father down to the airport. He is starting his two week "vacation" in Santa Cruz. Two of my aunts are headed to England for about two weeks and my father said that he would stay at one of my aunts houses and care for her pets and plants and such while she is gone, but he is also preparing for his independent clinical social work exam. I am sure he will find it much easier to study beach-side rather than in a house full of four females who, truthfully, are never quiet. I am continuing to "do" through my summer and not sit through it. We will see what surprises arise tomorrow.

today

I have crossed three things off of my summer to-do list. Today I painted outside. I am not quite done with it yet, but I am hoping to be completely satisfied with it tomorrow. I have not painted in a while and it was magnificent painting in the fresh air, listening to the combination of my neighbor mowing his lawn and pandora, and occasionally reaching over to pet my cat. I have also been able to cross off my "get another piercing" item on my list. No, I did not get my lip pierced. Another ear piercing, and I am quite pleased with it. I am interested to see how long it takes me to want another one, however. I find that the time between my piercings is getting shorter and shorter. We will see when/if another one happens. I will leave my third item a mystery for now and may talk about it in later entries.

One of my high school friends is on her way to Africa at this moment. She will be working there for about a month and then is planning on coming back to Cloquet for the duration of her summer. Another friend is taking summer classes in Minneapolis, another is staying in Chicago, and there are a few who are still in the area. I have had many intriguing conversations with those who have stayed in the area. One of the conversations that has been sitting on my mind lately was about happiness. We talked about how we were both presently doing--great on both ends, and then we continued to talk about what we wanted out of our lives--the future (insert daunting sound). I do not think I have ever been so scared of the future, and we talked about that. It is a good scared. A horrifying scared. I am most scared of not being happy, but focusing on this fear takes away from my happiness of today. Therefore, happiness shall surround my daily activities and I will embrace the happiness I feel today. I am scared as hell, but happiness is percolating over inside of me.

one week into the sun

One week ago I was out with the roommates, enjoying the last night on Dordt's campus. Leaving was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Saying the goodbyes to people who I thought I had more time with was odd. I think I tricked myself into thinking I had more time. I think I still think I have more time.

Since I have been home I have unpacked and organized my room. I am preparing for a mass garage sale and am hoping that the majority of my stuff will be sold/donated. I have caught up with a couple friends and have made plans to catch up with a couple more. I have cuddled with my cats! And given my dog too many treats. I have also started two of my jobs and have learned a crap load! I am continuing my job at Pine Ridge Homes and am starting with DRCC. I have yet to set up an interview with the family that wants me to nanny, but I am sure that will come soon enough. Through my training and re-training at Pine Ridge and DRCC I feel as if my brain is being overloaded. I have read countless client books, policies, and regulations. Excitement floods me when I think about my work. For Pine Ridge I will be filling in at the house I have worked with in the past and I am picking up regular hours at a new house with four clients, and for DRCC I will be working with a fourteen year old girl, ten year old boy, and four year old girl. Social work here I come! It is a great feeling to be able to apply what you have learned in class to your job. I am thrilled to see what these jobs may bring.

The other day, I asked Becca if it was possible for someone to have a mid life crisis at the age of twenty. She laughed and said, "when it comes to you, yes." She is probably right. I am a very anxious person, very up tight and worry about everything. I have been going through a "quarter-life crisis" recently because I have no idea what I want. I thought I knew, but I don't. I know more so of what I do not want and I guess that is a start, correct? I am pretty much done with college. I have a semester left in Chicago and then I am dropped into the working world. Yes, I have Thailand, but I will be on my own. I think I am just worried about not being happy with my life when I am 40, 50, 60, 70. Recently, when I look at adults I wonder if they are happy with where they are in their life. Note to self--do not get too comfortable with life. In the hopes of "not getting too comfortable with life" I have created a list of things that I WILL do this summer. I am excited to get things moving. Watch out summer 2009, I am ready.

clear thinking?

I have tried to write something here for the past couple months and for some reason little fragments appear but nothing truly makes sense, and I usually end up deleting it all. I wonder what it would have sounded like if I would have kept each mini entry and combined them. It would be a chaotic mess. As I start this entry I am hoping that I will finish it by pressing "publish post" and not "delete" but who knows.

I am ready for the semester to be over. I am, however, not ready for classes and learning to cease. My return to Dordt is not. Is not. I am going to Chicago in the fall and graduating in December. Then, I will make my way to Thailand to work with orphans and teach them English. After this three month trip, which begins in January, I will hopefully enter graduate school. I am in the process of applying and will soon see if this dream will be attainable.

As my graduation comes closer I am trying to figure out what I really want out of my life. And, as I think that I grow angrier at myself, because my life is not in the future--it is now. "What do I want out of my life?" Yes, valid question, especially for someone about to leave college, but what can I get out of my life NOW? I have a friend from home who "makes every day worth it." You may ask me how, and I cannot tell you for sure. She told me that she wakes up every day and tells herself that she is going to do something new, something that she can take pride in. I admire this.

I think I am confused. (Okay, I know I am confused :) ). I know I want to be a social worker. Yes. Yes? Okay, scratch that. I know I want to help people. Yes? Yes. I know my family will always be there. Definitely true. I do not know where I want to go after my tentative plans. I am, as you know, a planner. An organizer of my life. I love planning. I need to plan. But, I have been taught that though necessary at times, it can lead to great stress and disappointment.

I think more of the question "what do I see myself doing in ten years." And I have no fricken idea. Now, I know so many people cannot answer this question. But, I do not even know what I want to do in ten years! Five! Three! Two! I don't know. I can't really see myself doing anything. I do not mean I will be a bum doing absolutely nothing. I just cannot see myself as a social worker. Maybe it will come with time.

I am ready to be done with Dordt. Yes, there will be people I miss, but I will make it a point to keep in contact with them (dear reader, I apologize ahead of time--I am horrible at keeping in contact). My excitement during my Dordt experience has been comparable to a bell curve. I am bring in my past math major. It started out low. Okay, I hated it here. But, by the third month I really enjoyed college. The rest of my freshman year was great and I would not trade it for a thing. Sophomore year depleted. New friendships were made and my roommate was amazing. She is, hands down, the best roommate I have ever had. But as most of you know I was not at my best during my sophomore year. This year, my third and final year at Dordt, has been a slow downward slope towards the way I felt about this college in the beginning. It isn't the same disliking, and I wouldn't necessarily say I do not like it here, I am just ready to move on. I truly believe I have gotten what I can out of Dordt. Next chapter please.

Yes, I do believe I will publish this one. It isn't great, but that is okay because I do not think many people read this anyway. :) I would not say I am ready for bigger and better, but I would say I am ready for different. I don't like change, but I am ready for it.

not being overlooked

I am somebody. I am not someone who can be left behind. I am a person of the female sex who loves cats. I love celery, especially with peanut butter and raisins. I love green gum and orange pop. I love driving at night and singing along with the music. I love soup--my dad's chicken soup is best when you have a cold. I love painting. I love writing for myself. I love my sisters. I love tea AND coffee. I love cooking. I love sleeping in. I love math. I enjoy snuggling up and in blanket with warm fuzzy socks on. I love cold showers. I love brushing my teeth and cleaning my ears. I am a social work major who wants to DO something. I want to go to Africa. I want to work with families living in poverty. I want to have a family. I want to settle down after a time of traveling. I want to be happy. I am an introvert who loves order. I am organized. I am not terribly artistic but I want to be. I am passive. I am quiet--many times. I am passionate. I am driven. I am a student. I am a friend. I am a sister, a daughter, a co-worker, a movie lover. I go through phases of loving apples more and then oranges more. I LOVE fruit. I love tennis. I love the color green. I love the smell of freshly cut grass. I love rain and the first snowfall (if it is after Thanksgiving). I love cutting down the family Christmas tree the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I love family traditions. I love kites. I love camping. I enjoy a good snowball fight here and there. I love sledding. I like high heels. I know there has to be something more. I have to have ice in my water. I love a brisk sunrise. I want to go skydiving. I want to ride in a hot air balloon. I want to travel. I want to be able to hold a spider. I want to do karaoke. I want to water ski. I want to be a mother. I want to spend the night in a tree house. I want to do something out of the ordinary for me. I want to pass on my love of math. I want to conquer my fear of heights. I love robins. I love Jack Johnson, especially in the spring. I want to be honest. I love my summer job. I miss my friends from home. I miss playing scrabble. I love stupid talks on an old couch. I love fire. I love California. I love the ocean. I love FRIENDS. I miss England, but more so Scotland. I have a scar on my left eyelid from pushing a pink pig in a swing. I have broken many bones. I want to look on the bright side. I want you to know WHO I am and know that I am HERE. This list is not to be forgotten. This list isn't meant to define me but it gives a vague idea. This list, is for me.

learning something new

I, along with many you, live at school. We do homework, watch tv (if time), have meetings, eat, do laundry, sleep (again, if time), etc. at school. Yes, we do go off campus once in a while, possibly for an occasional Wal-Mart run, a much needed walk with a friend, or a Sunday away at your grandparents, but generally we are here, at school. Yes, sometimes the desire to get off campus is exceedingly evident, but overall I enjoy it here. I enjoy the pace of the college—which changes depending on where you are and who you are talking to. I feel as if I am learning quite a bit this semester, but the difference between this semester and past semesters is that I am also learning how to apply what I am learning. Through various activities and opportunities I am feeling more and more like a social worker. No, I am not one yet, but knowing that I will be one within a matter of a year or so is thrilling. For now I will enjoy my classes and soak up the information I am receiving through them. Yay for class, yay for education, and yay for living at school—even if you have trouble falling asleep because of roommates who talk, burp, and throw pillows at you in their sleep.

a repeat of past times-needed especially now.

At what age do things start to get complicated? When is life no longer about waking up and playing all day until bed? When do our jobs and money start taking over? As we continue to add numbers onto our age does life continue to get more complicated? As a child do we simply accept things the way they are and live contently? Yes, as a human of a younger age we do seem to ask "why" and "how" frequently, but these questions are out of pure curiosity. Do we lose our curiosity, and if so, when? I do not want to be an "old" woman and live my life routinely. Yes, I do love routines and I love order, but I do not want to do the same thing day after day. I want excitement; I want passion; I desire desire. Doesn't everyone? Some people are quite content doing the same things throughout their life. That is the beauty in life; we are all built differently and we all find happiness in different ways of life. I am looking forward to being an 'adult' (whatever that word means). I am excited to have a job. However, I want to live like a child. This does not mean that I want to sleep in and play all day without a care in the world; however, I want to keep my curiosity. I do not want to feel weighed down by life. I want to look back and say "I would not change a thing." As of now, I can say that. I do not believe in regret. Yes, if some things in my life were different it might have been a bit easier and a few tears less, but I would not be where I am standing now if those things had not happened and those tears had not been shed. Lately, a memory has been hitched to my back. **We all ran to my grandma and grandpa as they passed out different sized glass canning jars. The five grandchildren, wide-eyed and hopeful, reached out their arms waiting for the magic catchers to hit their finger tips. Once we each had our own jar we ran outside as fast as our legs would carry us. The farm was huge, but all of us always stayed in the same area of the yard. "I see one!!! I see one!!!!" Five little girls ran around the yard trying to catch the little bits of magic flying through the air. We would never go back inside until all five jars held at least one flickering bug. The five of us stumbled upstairs into our little bedroom and lined our jars on the windowsill. We snuggled into our sheets and watched the magnificent flickers of light until our eyelids grew too heavy. When we awoke we would go out into the yard and release the magic bugs and a wish.** If I could go back to this point in time I would. I cannot imagine how beautiful it must have been for our parents and grandparents to watch their children, nieces, and grandchildren run around the yard with little glass jars in hopes of catching a firefly.

Sunday, October 5th 2008---8:31pm

12:34pm-Take off from home. **wish for a safe, fun and fast trip back to Dordt**

I love being surrounded by trees, colorful leaves, family, and water. Duluth/Cloquet is absolutely gorgeous during this time of the year.

3:00-First corn field

My mother, Becca and I drove up the North Shore on Saturday after watching Rachel kick some butt in soccer.

3:01-I wake up from a nap laughing because I was thinking about channel 4 weather man

I also caught up with Matthew. We went out for supper with his family; I love his family. I feel so comfortable around them. Annika, his youngest sister is ADORABLE!!!

3:37-First smell of Iowa--cows

On Saturday night my mom and I watched "Anne of Avonlie" What an amazing movie; for those of you who do not know, the "Anne" movies are my favorite.

5:31-"Oooohhhh lovely"

My dad was camping in the BWCA this weekend, so it was truly a girls weekend

5:57-First cow (we did see some llamas beforehand though!!!)

The weather was the picture of Fall. I was able to wear scarves and jackets comfortably.

6:00-Becca spit out her coffee due to her laughter about her convincing herself she isn't a slut

Thursday night we ate all together for the first time since mid-August. I think we sat at the table for 2 hours just talking and catching up.

6:01-I ran through a stop sign

Becca and I went to the high school to visit Rachel. We saw our old math and government teachers. It was quite odd being back in that building. All the students are tiny and seem quite angry.

6:44-Pull up to West Hall

The weekend was fast and enjoyable, but it is great to be back.

the love of a green vegetable

This week has been full of tests. By next Monday I will have completed my first round of tests in 6 out of 7 of my classes (the 7th class does not have tests included in its curriculum).
After my statistics test today I went back to the room to complete a paper due for tomorrow. It is about 6 hours later and I am still working on the same paper.
I then went to social welfare policy in the library to learn about the different types of research I need to do for a group project on homelessness. After this, I went back to my room and ate celery!!! For those of you who do not know, I love this vegetable. Today, I cut two stalks, washed them and dipped them straight into my peanut butter jar. YUM!!! YUM!!! YUMMY! I haven't had actual celery in a long time. Well, I have had it in dishes but not on its own or with its lovely partner, peanut butter. Raisins!!! Have you ever had 'ants on a log'? This was a daily treat for me when I was a youngster, that and mustard-jam sandwiches (yes, I know... gross). Ants on a log--celery, peanut butter and raisins.

CHANGE OF SUBJECT

........................................................................................................................................................................
Celery makes smile. End of story.

the comfort of corn and cow shit

Yes, I am back in Iowa--the second state of my residency. I am thoroughly enjoying it. I love summer; I enjoy relaxing a bit and working because I love it and because I need the money (which due to books and tuition is scarce). However, there is something about school, the busyness, the craziness, the sleeplessness, the “holy crap! I barely studied for this test”-ness, that holds a dear place in my heart. Maybe I have these feelings because it is my last year on campus (crosses fingers), maybe it’s because I am living in an apartment filled with laughter, thought provoking conversations, and comfort, or maybe it is due to my love for school. I love school—yes, I am a nerd. But, you all knew that already, and if you didn’t all you need to know is that I was a math major and I still absolutely love the subject.
New goals and aspirations for this school year have taken form. I hope to meet many new people. I really hope to soak up my classes and breathe the information I am given. I want my passion to grow, I am working towards a better-rounded schedule, and I want people to see my desire for life behind my eyes.
My classes are much more focused on what I hope on doing occupationally. I am overloading (21 credits baby!). I am taking: human biology, aging and social work, practice methods II, fundamentals of social work, social welfare policy, and statistics. Many of the social work classes are macro focused which points towards my desired field of social work.

I am in the campus center’s computer lab as of now and I have a scarf wrapped around my neck; it smells like corn. Not the kind of corn you eat but more like the smell corn has when it’s in the field. It’s a comforting smell, to me. My sister, who is new at Dordt, has been commenting on the smell of cow manure. It does not always smell of shit, but when it is rainy the smell is definitely evident. Maybe I am one in a million, but I enjoy that smell. MMMM! The smell of shit in the morning (specifically cow shit) places a sense of comfort in my chest. To clarify I do not enjoy the smell of human feces, cat poop, or elephant dung.
Well, IA, here I am and here you are.

quiet

"She says "wake up, it's no use pretending." I'll keep stealing, breathing her. Birds are leaving over autumn's ending. One of us will die inside these arms. Eyes wide open, naked as we came. One will spread our ashes 'round the yard. She says "If I leave before you, darling. Don't you waste me in the ground." I lay smiling like our sleeping children. One of us will die inside these arms. Eyes wide open, naked as we came. One will spread our ashes round the yard."

Enough said?

a trip back to the nether-times.

So, as most of you know and as stated in a previous entry, I am sick... yes presently sick. It has been about two weeks and this cold will not go away. I went to the doctor today and he did the regular check-up dealio and it is just a cold but he gave me some pills. Hopefully they will help a bit. Anyways, back to the real point of this entry.
I took today off of work; it was my first day calling in sick. I really needed it though. For the past three days I haven't worked and all I have done is sleep and lay on the couch. Sleep in my bed, take a shower, lay on the couch, go to my bed and sleep, repeat. High school memories came screaming back due to this cycle. I have not been sick at home in a loooooong time. I forgot how nice it is to have your mother take care of you when you are ill. Just having her bring me my medicine with a glass of water or her bringing me a cup of crushed ice is heart warming. She has even massaged my neck! Amazing. However, having my mother take care of me has brought back memories of high school back. I felt as if I was going to wake up in the morning and have my mother call the school to excuse me for the day. I felt like my sister was going to come home with a large bag of books and a list of homework I had missed from the day. This did not happen. There is no bag of books or list. My mother did not have to call anyone, other than the doctor. The only thing waiting for me after this sickness passes is a large pile of paperwork for me to do and some reading I have to catch up at work.
No one wishes to be ill, but it has been a blessing. I am finding new happiness in every little thing lately. Without this sickness I would not have been able to just relax for a bit this summer. I have caught up on sleep, much needed sleep at that; also, Rachel and I have entered in to some fascinating conversations. Becca and I have done the same, but we seem to have these conversations more readily than Rachel and I do. Lastly, I have found a new love for my mother. Do not get me wrong, I love my mother and I always have, but seeing her care for me the way she does makes me want to be like her. I do not like I really appreciated what she did for me when I was in elementary, middle, or high school.

Sad thing though--- my man voice is slowly going away. So, if you want to hear my seductive "come to me baby, uhuhuhuh" call me as soon as possible. :)

loves

A walk through my summer.

At least part of it.

Silliness

Being quirky

A bond that will never separate

Close friendship

Swimming in the FREEZING lake.

Kite flying!!!

For Melissa

the voice of a man

"I thought you underwent a sex change operation."
"You sounded as if you were trying to impersonate someone... but it wasn't working."
"Who is in there because that is certainly not Renae."

Yes. I am sick and my man voice is back. Throughout high school it was an annual ordeal. Every year my man voice would come upon me in the fall. This past fall, however, I was lucky enough to miss this annual event. Somehow, though, the voice has found me in the summer. Now that it is back I realize that I did miss it. Don't get me wrong, I do hate being sick. But, there is something oddly fun about having a scratchy manly voice.
Imagine me looking at you in a seductive sense saying "Come to me baby, rawwrrrrrr." :)
I love it.

I would consider summer pretty much over. August has hit and at work I am now labeling everything with an 8 at the start. August has always been the month that you get ready for school, at least for me. New pens and notebooks. I am excited! I am soaking the rest of this summer in. Who knows, it may be my last summer at home... if plans work out. However, having my sister on the same campus I am on and being able to get together with her for a cup of tea whenever is glorious.
It is my last year at Dordt. My last first day of school. My last summer into school shift. My last August school supply shopping month. Odd.
I am ready baby. Bring it on. ;)

revenge in a lighter sense.

"I have walked down this road before. I have seen this tree and this grain of sand. I have smelt this air and touched this leaf; I have crossed this path; I have feared that and cut this part out. I have played this and moved, maybe."
Your fear. Plopping down into the things that were. Sinking into what was. Being trapped in yourself, again. What if it happens again? Who will be there this time around? You have found out who will leave during the bad. You have seen who will give up on you. You know who backs out when things get rough. You know who will not even hold your hand as a friend when you know you need it the most. What if... what if... we all know. You can hold on to two. Two. Two. Two? Can you be sure? You thought, you were sure you could hold on to one. That one is gone and will stay gone. Never to return, for the best and the one is not welcome, ever. But, how can two hold you up? Two who do not know of the other. Two who hold different aspects of your life; two who connect to different things; two who mean so much, just as the one. Two?
What about those minds that will never open? What about the hurt that those doors cause? They are doors, not walls. Walls cannot be opened and were never opened. Doors, however, at one point in time were open and could be walked through, but now they are locked.
Did you ever have a toy that you really really, absolutely desired when you were a child? You wanted it incredibly, terribly bad. You would ask your parents for it every chance you would get. You would think about it when you waited to fall asleep. But, once you received that toy, once you actually got your hands on it and you were able to play with it you found out it is not what you wanted. You fell in love with the idea of the toy, but the toy itself was a let down. Has this happened to you?
Do you smell the lavender? Do you see the purple? Can you touch the greenery?
Do you know the bee? Can you talk with the wind? Do you hear my whisper?

you.

Tonight, I smoked a cigarette
and you came screaming back.
Waves of tastes and smells found a way to reconnect,
and the smoke danced itself into the sky.

The night told me what to say
and, yes, I knew the answer anyway.
My head told my heart what to do,
and the smoke danced itself into the sky.

You found a way in, and I out.
And yes it is true--I know what to do.
A sense of self has returned and
I have quit you.

The pieces seemed to have gone awry
but the puff put them in their place.
A deep breath and a tingle of the lips,
and the smoked danced itself into the sky.


This is a little thing I wrote tonight at work. There is no real face behind it; it is mostly a modge-podge of people/ideas/feelings. This summer has been wonderful, and yes, I do realize I am using the past tense form of the verb, but in my book summer is nearly over. One of my best friends is making the travel back to college this Saturday and that usually is a landmark in my summer. I am ready for school. I am ready for new pencils, clean notebooks, nervous freshmen, familiar faces, and late nights. I am excited for new roommates, social work classes, familiar giggles, hugs, tears, and Wednesday night talks. I will miss sisters day, after work calls to you, my bed, sleeping in, comforts of home, and my job.
I have many projects in mid... mid... in mid.
This summer has been a peach, and no, not in the quirky somewhat cutesy word way. This summer has been the actual fruit. No need for explanation. You know you get it. You are the one I love. You will always be and have always been there. No need for words, our eyes can talk to each other.
Who knew what a cigarette could do.

glass jars and fireflies

At what age do things start to get complicated? When is life no longer about waking up and playing all day until bed? When do our jobs and money start taking over? As we continue to add numbers onto our age does life continue to get more complicated? As a child do we simply accept things the way they are and live contently? Yes, as a human of a younger age we do seem to ask "why" and "how" frequently, but these questions are out of pure curiosity. Do we lose our curiosity, and if so, when?
I do not want to be an "old" woman and live my life routinely. Yes, I do love routines and I love order, but I do not want to do the same thing day after day. I want excitement; I want passion; I desire desire. Doesn't everyone?
Some people are quite content doing the same things throughout their life. That is the beauty in life; we are all built differently and we all find happiness in different ways of life.
I am looking forward to being an 'adult' (whatever that word means). I am excited to have a job. However, I want to live like a child. This does not mean that I want to sleep in and play all day without a care in the world; however, I want to keep my curiosity. I do not want to feel weighed down by life. I want to look back and say "I would not change a thing."
As of now, I can say that. I do not believe in regret. Yes, if some things in my life were different it might have been a bit easier and a few tears less, but I would not be where I am standing now if those things had not happened and those tears had not been shed.
Lately, a memory has been hitched to my back.
**We all ran to my grandma and grandpa as they passed out different sized glass canning jars. The five grandchildren, wide-eyed and hopeful, reached out their arms waiting for the magic catchers to hit their finger tips. Once we each had our own jar we ran outside as fast as our legs would carry us. The farm was huge, but all of us always stayed in the same area of the yard. "I see one!!! I see one!!!!" Five little girls ran around the yard trying to catch the little bits of magic flying through the air. We would never go back inside until all five jars held at least one flickering bug. The five of us stumbled upstairs into our little bedroom and lined our jars on the windowsill. We snuggled into our sheets and watched the magnificent flickers of light until our eyelids grew too heavy. When we awoke we would go out into the yard and release the magic bugs and a wish.**
If I could go back to this point in time I would. I cannot imagine how beautiful it must have been for our parents and grandparents to watch their children, nieces, and grandchildren run around the yard with little glass jars in hopes of catching a firefly.