sex in the suburbs

I just had $1 burgers with two of my best friends from elementary school. The whole time we were hanging out, all I could think of was Sex in the City. These are the girls that have stuck with me, and I with them, for over a decade. So much between us has changed: our lives, boyfriends, goals...we've grown up. I was sitting on the couch and thinking, "Wow, we're in our twenties, sitting together talking about jobs and men and parents, and soon we'll have our own lives, and our kids will be saying this same stuff about us. Unreal."

I have a suspicion a sleepover is in the works.

I guess we'll never really grow up...not yet anyway :)

DemoMission

I've decided to stop fighting and give into the desire to make a demo. This is actually a leap of faith, in a way. I've been so set on science and being "practical" and have been afraid to pursue the music road. But it's becoming more of a distraction lately. Songwriting has been consuming most of my free time (5 songs in the last 3 weeks), and I get through the day knowing that I can go home and have an hour at home with just me and the piano. I have no idea what this will lead to. It may rocket me to performing around Canada or be used as a coaster, but in any case, it'll be good to have everything recorded. We shall see...

Let's play 2 truths and a lie. This is a game where you have to make up 2 truths and 1 lie and then the other person has to guess which one is the lie. Shall we begin?

Truth 2: My biggest fear is not planes. It's being alone, unappreciated, underestimated, and unloved.

Truth 1: I dwell on things and usually can approach closure after writing a song about it.

Lie: I wrote a song about you.

Answer: ____________________

What? You thought I'd tell you? That's the point of the game silly! ::shakes head::

Without Excuse

If I have no voice, how will I sing?
If I have no voice, how will I laugh?
If I have no voice, how will I sigh?
If I have no voice, how will I cry?

If I have no voice, how will I ask?
If I have no voice, how will I warn?
If I have no voice, how will I shout?
If I have no voice, how will you figure out?

If I have no voice, how will I plead?
If I have no voice, how will I tell?
If I have no voice, how will I refuse?

If I have a voice, how will He excuse?

"The Bus" plows ahead

I saw a commercial today starting Jerome "The Bus" Bettis. He was talking about how success is made one step at a time. It then switched to an ST Bank slogan, which ruined the moment, but whatever. Success is made one step at a time.

When did waiting equal failure? Why do I feel compelled to jump 3 steps at a time to prove that I am one fantastic chick? It's not like jumping 3 steps will get me up the stairs that much quicker. In fact, I might fall down and slam my face into the cement or wood, slowing me up a considerable amount. Why am I in such a rush to see results?

I find this at my job. I work with an autistic child, and quick results are ridiculous to expect. He's wonderful, and every bit of progress is awesome. But I come home wanting more, and feeling like I failed. I find this in my walk with Christ. Success, one step at a time. By now I feel like I should be leaping tall buildings, but the Bible doens't promise that. The Lord does promise that He will keep us from falling though. And frankly, not falling would be quite a feat to accomplish.

Applicable Song: Move Along by All-American Rejects

the worlds a stage

What kind of model am I?

This is question I have been asking myself lately. Unfortunately, there is no online quizzer thing to find this out, so I've had to resort to other (probably more accurate) references. The Bible, my journal, inspirational song lyrics, the works. Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm a good or poor model, in both actions and attitudes. Right now I feel pretty poor, but I think that's more of a faulty focus than actual actions. Let's proceed...

Instead of a model, I find to identify more with an actor (which is sometimes an model...usually not very good though). So, who am I modelling, or acting, for? In theater business, it's a director. so...

Who is my director? They're in charge, and in order to stay with them, you have to do what they say. As many of us in the theater business know, some directors are sleeze balls. They'll have you do things againstyour better judgement, but you're so afraid you won't find "work" anywhere else so you go with it. Life's situation: the directors are the friends or authority that you so want to please, that give you some kind of meaning, because you are lacking in direction in some capacity.

I've been an actress since I was wee little. Nothing fancy, but I think I flip into the director determines my actions phase. If I have any question, ask them, not myself. I'm not smart enough, knowledgable, etc.

So who is my director?

The Sunday school answer would be...Jesus. The reality answer: Jesus.

And friends. And co-workers. And parents. And children. And bosses. And Satan. And my flesh. And lonliness. And happiness.

Now put yourself as someone working on a film, or play. If you had that many directors, what would happen? Chaos. Any actor knows the frustration when one person is telling you ONE thing, and another is telling you something COMPLETELY different. Now sometimes they compliment eachother, and this works wonderful when it makes your craft shine and you're glorious. But if they're against you, seeking to exploit you or are for their OWN betterment without a concern for you...yeah, show's over.

Here's a pet peeve (for lack of a better term). But something that makes me sick in a heart broken way. When I do something that I would tell my niece, nephew, or one of the kids I work with not to do. How can I live in a way that I would never encourage another person to live? "Do what I say, not what I do?" That's two directors coming from one person. And that's even MORE frustrating if we continue the actor metaphor.

So why am I writing this? I love children. I love them to pieces. Sometimes I feel like they're the only innocence left in this world, and I despise innocence being corrupted. I despise lives being ruined or misguided. It kills me. My heart breaks to see it. Are we living lives, or acting in ways that are misguiding others? Action, words, behaviors, whatever, what are we advocating?

What kind of director are you?

new favorite

My new favorite album is "New Favorite" by Allison Krauss and Union Station. Specifically, I enjoy songs 1,3,5,7,11,13. Basically all the odd numbers. I'm an odd kind of girl. I've been listening to it driving back and forth from my new job (working with autistic kids...it's going to be great). "The Lucky One" is probably going to be melted to the CD player.

I've been writing songs again, which usually means I have some emotional angst that's not being dealt with :) I believe that the art of someone is the outflow of their heart. So my songs, entitled "Playing House (Thirteen)" and "Someone Else" both center around the theme of disillusionment. But they don't necessarily remain in minor keys, so there is a bit of hope I guess. I often wish that my piano skills were as complex as Fiona Apple or Tori Amos, but they serve their purpose. If I'm ever able to get my music career off the ground, I'd prefer to have someone else play anyway. My problem is that I can hear exactly how I want the song to go, but I can't do it myself. So I have to satisfy myself with the piano.

It's been an addiction lately. I'm at training for my job and toward the end, all I can think about is how I want to get home and play "Playing House (13)" on the piano. Now it'll be "Someone Else" because I just figured out how I want it to go. I'm hoping that maybe someday this summer I can talk someone in my church to record me play and sing, just to put stuff together for myself. They do it for special music anyway.

Music. My first love. I'm probably in the country genre if I had to pick. Just because my songs tell stories. Usually. This blog is so random its unbearable.

Sleep. Another early morning.

rebel with a tiny itsy bitsy cause

It sickens me to see how rebellious my nature is.

Why is it that I want what I can't have? Why is it that I see the purpose of lines is to be crossed? And rules are meant to be broken? As if everything in life was a personal challenge for me to say, YES I CAN. Our society told me growing up, "You can do anything."

They created a monster.

When I turned 21, I was super excited because alcohol was no longer going to be a temptation for me. I've struggled with this since freshman year of college, when I learned that I actually liked the taste of it. It was mostly a winning battle, a few surrenders here and there to wine or vodka that I'm not proud of, but all of that disappated on May 27th, 2006. Which is a good thing.

But the arrival of my 21st has now created a new problem. The pseudo-adulthood of being a homebound college student. I can do everything an adult can do (or at least have the option to) and yet I must abide by the rules of my parents. Suddenly, if ANY boundary seems to threaten my "FREEDOM", I do everything I can possibly do to assert my "rights", resorting to the antics of an intellectual two year old. This obvious fairs very well for my family, and only 24 hours into being home, we were fighting.

*sigh* College is such a tease. You're away for a year, making your own decisions, mistakes, learning, and then you're back to living with a curfew...even if it is 4am.

And the funny thing is, in my rebellious state, I see how ridiculous this is. My dad doesn't want me sleeping at a guy's house, even if he's known them for 4 years. Big surprise. They want me home before I start to fall asleep at the wheel. That's nice of them. They want to make sure I'm safe and sound instead of fearing for a call from the mortuary. Naturally. And yet I get mad, pout, and say how "I'm an adult. This isn't fair!!" And go to my room for a nap.

Which actually helps.

Living in community is hard. Really hard.

But its good when that community loves you enough to fight with you. And in the end you can kiss and make up. My mom just gave me a goodnight kiss :)

I can live in this kind of community.

Applicable Commandment: Honor your mother and father that it may go well with you.
Applicable Song: Halfway Home by Jason Mraz. Good stuff.

I'm a big kid now

I completely enjoy the fact that an adult can be just as amazed, if not more so, than a kindergartner at the same things. Example, I bought a waterballoon launcher at Kroger last afternoon. Now, the adult side of me was super excited because it was $2. Yay, saved money! The kid side of me completely took over seeing the first waterballoon catapult at least 30 feet into a tree at the end of a driveway. (I realize that 30 feet may not be THAT long, but a gree was in the way, so I've yet to see for certain how far it goes). For about 5 seconds I was a kid again.

Then again, I've been told I have the mentality of a 5 year old when it comes to being pleased :)

So for all of you executives stuck behind papers, take that TPS report cover sheet and make a paper airplane out of it and glide it into the cubical of your co-worker. I encourage you, I EMPLORE, FIND that inner child. Consider this your free psychiatric session. I bet they don't have you make paper airplanes, huh?

Serious note, my job with School Age Care is about to end for the summmer. *tear* I'll be travelling back to Pittsburgh, hopefully securing a job, hanging out with old friends, and enjoying scrumptous homecooked meals. Did I mention I have a pool? AND a water balloon launcher...this is going to be great :)

Lesson from the Lord: He wants all of you. Not a hoof to be left behind, because you don't know what He's going to need to use you to impact others for His glory. That's in Exodus. I'd recommend checking it out. Comes right before the locusts invade Egypt. Good stuff.

Now to hope that I didn't get another parking ticket...