I have this notion that I'm supposed to be perfect. Where, may I ask, did I get this idea? Was this an expectation implanted in my brain at an early age? And how, exactly, did this expectation reach to the level that it has? How is it that instead of doing something or saying something that might not be perfect, I choose to not make a mistake. I readily admit, all too often, this is a much bigger mistake. When did I decide that if I was going to do something that I should do it perfectly?

I also must assert that many people feel God expects humans to strive to be perfect. God wants us to love Him, and to know Him. Greater love for Him and greater knowledge of Him results in an amazing relationship with Him. The outcome of that is we will become more like Him. And yes, God is perfect, but He requirement from us is never perfection, that is our own assertion. Somehow, I can always straighten it out on paper, but in my heart I have jumbled it up once more. I choose not to do something for fear that I will fail. Or I choose not to do another thing because I will not do it as perfectly as I would like.

I choose not to write, or blog because of the immediate exposure. The vulnerability is a heavy weight on my heart. Yet ultimately, I have to come back to the reality that words mean very little in this world, and I admit that I tend to take myself too seriously from time to time.

I am reading a book called Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World by Joanna Weaver. Wow. This is certainly applicable to me in so many areas of my life and heart right now. Many times throughout the day I need to recognize what really matters, and focus on the one the really matters and trust in Him. I am not at all trying to say that this is the point of the book, but it's the best paraphrase I can get right now, and I haven't picked it up in a few days.

In our technology saturated world, it is dreadfully sad that we need to write out our thoughts just so we'll have them before they're interrupted. I think too many of us never bother to feel half of life because we've rushed through it or turned the channel or hit fast-forward or mute, or turned up our i-pod even louder. Using technology to "get away" is such a cop-out, and one I'm definitely guilty of. What's happened to our brains when we can't even process our feelings without writing them down. Are we emotionally retarded by the media at hand? With the world at our fingertips, who would choose to sort through the agony this life often brings us?

I suppose there's one tiny spot in everyone's world where reality will always surface--- those last few moments of wakefulness. And, YET AGAIN- perhaps this is why we need Ambien or Lunesta. The feelings we supress throughout our wakeful state rise to the surface and we cannot drift off to sleep; we may not accept these emotions, and we may not even have the slightest capability of being able to deal with them. So, who do we call? A friend or pastor, a relative or loved one, a trusted counselor? No, a doctor. Here's your prescription, hope it helps.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against doctors. I'm not even sure I truly have a problem with sleep medicine. However, I do think that we all too often blame our problems on things that are not the culprit. Why? Because it would be easier. It's a lot easier for me to turn on the TV than to really figure out how I'm feeling. It's more convenient for me to ramble on about nothing than to truly listen.

Okay--- enough friends, that may be all the feelings I can muster up right now. Good night.

Today

Once again, I have been entirely absent from the blog world. In case it's not obvious enough, I have a great deal of trouble with being consistant. I have hundreds of goals and aspirations, but rarely the time or energy for half of them. My heart wants to show all my friends and family how much I love them, but the reality is, I often don't.

As this summer begins, I have been faithfully running, which is great for my weight-loss efforts. However, I have also been just as faithful in my consumption of the glorious energy-containing substance we call FOOD. In just a couple of days I will be heading back to school. Ugh. On the one hand I'm releieved, my schedule will once again be jammed full. But at the same time, I know there will be too many things on my to-do lists that will get knocked off the page. This summer, I've made goals for physical fitness, spiritual goals, academic goals and relational goals. So far, they aren't going too bad. Like I said, I have been running regularly. I would love to register for a 5k race in July, but there are so few races in this area! I have not started memorizing any new verses, I need to get with it there. I have been reading this remarkable book/study called Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World by Joanna Weaver. This is really relative to my life right now, and there is quite a bit to swallow. Academically, I started reading Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy. I haven't made it too far. I read a page or two of The Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison but before I knew it, it was due back to the library. Relationally, well, that's going decently with my peer friends and with Jon as well. Super.

I still have such a difficult time blogging here, I think in part because some blogs are so tightly focused. Well folks, that's not me. There are times when my world seems as small as a pea, but most often it comes close to overwhelming me entirely. If it weren't for Jesus, well, I wouldn't be sitting here with the peace I have. There are times when I feel so inadequate, but then I remember that the only confidence I am to have or even need is confidence in God. He is my only security. I beleive there was a verse in my email box the other day about this. Perhaps this is a verse I will memorize this summer.

Ha! I knew when I created this blog that it's title would be so important. Arbitrary- random. Life is full, life is random. Some times its randomness is exhausting, other times exhilirating. The same is true of my thoughts! Sometimes I want to stop thinking, other times I wish I could think all day.

teehee- when I was young I wrote a poem that started with "sometimes..." not funny for me to tell you about, but a funny memory I share with a friend.

Well, this is my world today. I went for a 3-mile jog. Took my daughter to the zoo. Cleaned the kitchen (hard-core cleaning/mopping). Talked on the phone for about 10 minuts. Searched for 5k's in July 4th. Posted this blog. I'm outta here.

Since I didn't speak up in class today

Today in class I actually had a decent observation. But, did I raise my hand ever so slightly to let the teacher know I got what he was saying? No, I let him ramble on. Sure, I waited to see if he would leave a break for anyone else to insert their ideas, but I did not interject mine. As T.S. Eliot's Prufrock would have done, I did "not force the moment to its crisis."
So, today we were discussing T.S. Eliot's "The Wasteland" and it occurred to me that the sight of spring in April is referred to as the cruelest month, not just because April symbolizes life--- but because at the sight of Spring, there is hope, hope that life will be new and not the way it was before, and this is cruel because this hope is barren and life, according to Eliot, was not new, nothing could be trusted in and life is depressing and there is no order, no hope, no Spring in life, not ever.
Unfortunately, I don't think this little thought is enough for me to write another paper over... nor am I sure I want to make the time to develop it. I will confess that I'm sad we didn't cover "Hollow Men," and I may find myself submitting an optional paper because of it.

Why is it that the professors that are the most challenging are those you want most to please? I suppose it has a lot to do with the fact that we live up to the expectations set before us or some psychological idea like that. I'm certain this will be very important to me when I am on the other side of the grade book.
I cannot wait for the semester to end so I can at least skim some of the books my professors have cited as I've stared back blankly at them! Heh, of course I've read The Catcher in the Rye, but I don't think I got it... I liked his sarcasm, that's all I remember.
It's late. My brain is scattered... I was supposed to go to sleep early since I didn't join my daughter in her nap. Once again, the joke's on me!

Late Night's Really AREN'T Your Friend

So, despite the fact that I continuously stay up entirely too late nearly every night, it appears I have yet to truly learn my lesson. Of course I was going to go to sleep nearly 3 hours ago (as I say every night), but then it was brought to my attention that x had not been accomplished. Ironically, it didn't occur to me last night that x was my online math assignment and I went to sleep without finishing it.
It's been a really rough week, and I know that there are parts of my heart that I really should be blogging about, but I think most everyone would admit that the energy sucked out of you during times of growth and maturation do not exactly leave an abundance for, well, anything. And, since there's only one person that knows about my blog... I know I won't be disappointing too many people by not staying up later to wake up feeling even more exhausted tomorrow.
I have only a couple more thoughts for now... One- Praise God that the semester of 3 English courses is nearly over!!! Two- Just because your two year old knows how to tell you she's poopy and knows that poop goes into diapers and toilets, doesn't mean she won't poop in her friends bathtub! HAHA- Life is... (at times) poopy like that.

Please Don't Read the Date/Time of Every Entry!

Haha! I know I could have written one really long and scattered blog, but for everyone's sanity, I have broken them up. So, if I wouldn't have titled this blog the way I have, then perhaps no one would have ever noticed. Yeah, yeah, yeah... I'm still working on the whole "you don't always have to tell everyone everything..." in regards to my boundary issues. But, since this isn't a therapy session (technically,) I think I'll finally move on to what I wanted to say in this blog.

I've been running! HOORAY! In the last 7 days, I have gone jogging 4 times! (I could have said I've gone jogging 3 of the last 4 days... both are great!) Today, I jogged for 3 miles straight. Honestly, it was difficult, but I know that in all areas of life getting through the difficult times are what make the better times that much better, and in some cases easier. It's not what anyone wants to hear when they are going through the crummy valleys in life, but it's the honest truth.

TOPIC CHANGE: I'm actually up late with the intention of writing a thesis statement and some form of an outline on Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston. Thankfully, I finally know what I want text I will be writing about. But, I am not completely sure of my exact thesis and direction. Overall I want to argue that this is an exceptional work and the importance of this book in terms of the lessons and insight that can be gleaned from it are exactly why EVERYONE should read it. With that said, I think I might cut, paste and sign off. Good night.

The Weekend is Coming

Easter is just around the corner! I am much more excited about Easter this year than I have been in years past. I think this is in part due to my daughter's ability to participate in some small ways. Last week in Sunday school she was taught "Jesus is alive" which actually sounds like "Dezuh Wive" or at times "Jesus" reminds me of "Pizza" instead, mostly we just listen for the "wive" part and then we understand. So, ever since then, I've enjoyed talking to her about Jesus and that Easter is coming. She has a book about the colors in the Easter basket representing different aspect of Easter, and I've enjoyed reading it to her because she knows most of the colors well enough that she will point to the object that is the color we are reading about. AND, this year, for Easter we will give her her very first Bible!

O What A Day

It's dreadful to be one of those people that really need deadlines. I often have great intentions to make time for blogging, but... it doesn't happen. I'm thrilled that the one person I've confided in (as to starting a blog) has continued to check in on me, and I'm simultaneously releived that I have not shared this fact with too many others.
I suppose the day will come when I will log on and actually write about my experiences and thoughts for the day, rather than merely offering some guilt-ridden explanation for having neglected this creation.
I had my wisdom teeth removed. Ouch!--What's worse is that I only had 2 to take out! As if the pain from surgery weren't enough, I was fortunate enough to experience a DRY SOCKET! When people tell you they HURT, they aren't kidding! I'm certain it didn't hurt worse than a kidney stone, and it might not have been as bad as back-labor (with an 9 lb baby,) but I would have rather gone through birthing another child than to have had a dry socket. What people forget to tell you when they say "oh man, those suck" is that they "suck" for at least a week!!! And if you go to your surgeon for "treatment" (which actually consists of stuffing the hole in your jaw with a string soaked in some rancid, bitter-clove tasting medicine) you have to keep seeing him every other day to switch out the "dressings!" But it doesn't matter how awful it tastes or that you have to drive to the other side of town when he's at the "East" office, because you can think, and you're pain is reduced to such a small amount that you literally FEEL human again! It's phenomenal!
Phew--- the days of dry socket are somewhat fading, although now I have the pleasure of sticking a syringe in the hole in my jaw and flushing it with water after each meal! This sure has cut down on my calorie-consumption far more than the actual teeth extractions ever did!