Who knew Agatha Christie could be Convicting?

How many times do I have to die before you’ll take notice?

This thought popped into my mind when I awoke this morning. A quite chilling one, at that. Strange, I know. It seemed that I had a dream of dying repeatedly but without anyone caring. And even as I write this, I realize that it’s not the selfish interpretation I had at first.

(Isn’t it strange how an “original” thought can reveal even more meaning to the thinker as one ponders it?)

If you’ll bear with me, I’ll explain.

I’ve begun reading again, this time Agatha Christie. Last night I finished a novel she wrote under her pen name of Mary Westmacott, Absent in the Spring. It wasn’t quite the romance novel I had assumed it to be, which was a relief. I don’t really go for those kind of drippy, woeful love stories that always have the same story line.

This novel was quite the opposite. It was the tale of a woman remarkably and uncomfortably like myself: A woman who filled her time with the mundane but prided herself on her propriety and her blessings. Although happily married with three grown children, she was utterly alone, although she herself doesn’t know this. Throughout the novel, the reader can tell that Joan is disconnected from whomever she comes into contact. However, while stranded at a train station in the desert on her journey home, she has nothing to occupy her mind and is soon forced to come to this conclusion after much reluctant contemplation. It shakes her to her very core. It’s at that moment that the train arrives to bear her home. She had determined to be a different person, but the further the train takes her from that redemption in the desert, the more convinced she is that it was all a mirage, a dream, a heat fantasy.

Once home, she changes nothing.

I think this is perhaps one of the scariest choices a person can make: To be faced with reality, to have it stare you in the face and dare you to change, and yet to be complacent and continue in the same dream-like naivete.

I feel as though I do this far too often, but lately I’ve been feeling convicted, which may have been the inspiration for the aforementioned thought: How many times do I have to die before you’ll take notice? For, you see, this thought is not about my languishing, my human struggles. I think it may be what Christ thinks every time I am faced with the choice to change and choose to default to going on my merry carnal way.

Every time I take the easy way out, I am merely driving the nails deeper into Christ’s hands. Yet, I am shamefully amazed at how often I choose this. The terrible and frightening beauty of our humanity is that we always have a choice. Only I can decide how to live my life. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to get carried away with this intoxicating power and live in a selfish, delirious stupor, ignorant of how I represent my Saviour.

Choose.

Choice.

Decision.

Decide.

How will I live today?

What Does it Mean?

Love.

It's funny how its meaning has grown and expanded like a rubber band. It's sad how it can reach a snapping point beyond repair.

Time.

It's weird how each hour may drrraaaaaaggggg ooooooonnnnnn, but at the end of the day, yourealizeeachmomentranintothenextwithoutpause.

Looking back over my summer, I can hardly believe that school is about to begin again. I have to sit back and try to remember what I've experienced, although none of it was that long ago...

I've lost a good friend and gained a few more. I've been speechless and talkative. I've been motivated and lazy (perhaps more emphasis on the latter...). I've been frugal and unwisely frivolous. I've learned what it means to forgive and truly forget...

*Pause*

Yes... We've all heard that idiom, "Forgive and forget." It's one of those sayings we throw around like loose change, but when it comes time to spend it, we can think of every reason to become penny pinchers. Literary giant C.S. Lewis even pointed out "Everyone says forgiveness is a lovely idea until they have something to forgive."

Did you know there are health benefits to forgiving? According to WebMD, lower blood pressure and a stronger immune system are just a few of the benefits, not to mention lower stress hormones. I definitely noticed a drop in my stress levels once I was able to fully forgive and forget. I think that forgiveness isn't fulfilled unless one is able to move on without grinding one's teeth at the mere mention of the offender's name.

This is where I'm at now. I'm sad that I've lost the friendship (she saw fit to break it off with me for no apparent reason), but I'm now looking forward to the coming semester with excitement and anticipation, knowing that I have many opportunities awaiting me.

Love...

It's discouraging how it can wither. It's relieving that it can always be renewed in some form.

Time...

It's mind-blowing that a person can change in as little as a day. It's inspiring how one moment can make a difference.

Placeholder Post

Hello faithful readers!

This is just fyi that a new post is in the works. Due to a Firefox/Blogger mishap, my last post wasn't saved, and so I have to rewrite it. Needless to say, I'm a little upset right now.

But a new one is on the way!

City and Colour Speaks for my Soul

"With You on My Mind and My Heart held in Your Hands. . . Break Me."

The above song by City and Colour (a MOST amazing artist) seems to be my go-to song when I'm feeling angst or uncertainty. When I'm feeling vulnerable or out of control, the above words stand out and sum up how I'm feeling at that time, like now.

I am more like my father than I realize, and in some ways I wouldn't care to admit. I know I can't expect my hurt to be noticed by everyone, but I don't think I have a right to point it out to them. Which doesn't make sense, right? Because I'm only hurting myself more in the end.

*Huge Sigh of Chagrin*

I think one thing with which I struggle is figuring out the dynamic of changing friendships. I often am the first to sense a shift or unbalance in any friendship of mine, but after many years of gaining and losing friends, I still don't know how to approach such shifts. The best way I've figured out is very passive-aggressive: I let the other person choose. They are unaware that they are choosing, which may or may not be fair, but I have found they usually gradually picks what is best for the both of us.

I know this is very vague and confusing.

So, I'll be as specific as possible (This is a rare occurrence, so relish this one, folks).

Right now, I have been slowly losing a friend. Not because I want to, but because it seems as though that's what she wants. The most appropriate term is "replaced." I feel as though I'm being replaced by another. I see this person and a mutual friend everywhere together, and I'm slightly hurt that I haven't been included. (I feel so juvenile, but my need to be strong frustrates me). For the past while, I've noticed our friendship changing into something else, but I'm not sure yet what it will look like. Communication between us has slowly been deteriorating. I feel as though I'm the one being wronged, but I don't feel the right to bring it up or confront this person (Ah, genetics...). I'll figure it out, however.

Perhaps what is most frustrating is the pattern that seems to be emerging in my life. And this probably goes for everyone, but I have very few, next to none, quality friends that I know I can count on without a shadow of a doubt. I make friends only to lose them a year or so later to newer, "funner" people. Is there something I'm missing?

In many of my friendships, I feel taken for granted, used. I hate being hurt. Who doesn't?

Hmm... Such raw honesty on my blog frightens me... But my processing is more important than keeping up appearances.
***

In other news, I'll be working for the marketing company at my college for the summer! I'm very excited and nervous for this opportunity. Actually, since hearing I'll be doing something different than what I applied for, I've been feeling more relaxed and relieved. I originally applied to be a photographer and writer, but since my application, the department's needs have changed in that they no longer need photos and the project leader is a fantastic writer. So, that means I'll be learning something new!!

***
I'm in the process of looking for housing for the summer. Oh, and I move out Saturday, leave for BVI on Monday, which means I have to find housing by the end of the week. How's that for last-minute?

Today is a good day.

Time Passing...

A few nights ago, I was working on a photography project on one computer while my editor worked on a computer next to me. When the printer kept jamming up on her, I asked what was her project. She gestured behind her, and my eyes followed to neat stacks of paper laid out in two rows. Looking closer, I recognized photos that I had taken for the student newspaper that were on the front pages. I sat in silence for a moment, taking it all in. Each semester had seen 11 issues of our paper... 11 front page photos... 11 main events... Countless hours of keeping my eye to the viewfinder, lining up that "winner" shot.

Time passing tends to blindside me.

I've been learning a tough lesson in forgiveness these past three months. It's past the point where I am okay with seeing this person and not feeling... What's the word... Not angry, perhaps bitter. Yes, bitter seems to be correct. I am no longer bitter toward this person. I want to reach out, but I know my hand will be slapped away. Should I still reach out anyway? I'm not as hurt anymore, and have never been surprised.

Time passing tends to heal me.

This summer, it looks like I'll be staying here working two, possibly three jobs. 1) Marketing intern; 2) Restaurant server; 3) Data entry assistant. One summer, two semesters and three jobs stand between me and seven months in gorgeous Madrid! Probably the longest seven months of my life, for many reasons. Plans for the future race through my mind, with countless possibilities nipping their heels. Right now, though, life is good.

Time passing tends to excite me.

Lonely Ladybugs Laze

I have discovered a few things in the past few days.

1) I don't mind ladybugs, but they need to stay out of my room. I shouldn't need to tread carefully in my own living space, my sanctuary.

2) An unexpected hour of free time in the midst of a busy schedule doesn't help my productivity. I had two such hours today and did nothing to relieve the work load that is bearing down on my shoulders with a vengeance.

3) It's amazing how that load can feel lighter after a bit of good news or a glimpse of hope offered by the promise of a potential summer job. Notice the keywords: glimpse, promise, potential - all "temporary" words.

And perhaps the Most Important Thing:
I will never wish a slow and painful death on anyone, even my worst enemy. "How has this revelation come about?" you might ask. Well, I have been wished such an ending via Facebook by a stranger. Not directly on my page, mind you. I saw the comment on someone's profile, and I was shocked. This person doesn't even know me and yet they are wishing me a "slow and painful death." I don't know why this comment bothered me so much, because I did nothing to the person on which the comment appeared or the commenter. Keeping in mind how I felt, I have determined to never wish ill on anyone. No matter how much I may dislike someone, they have loved ones too who wouldn't appreciate such a selfish musing.

Concluding thought:
Loneliness is a terrible condition, the worst a human can experience.

The Walking Dead Photographer

Almost a month since my last post. Not that I haven't had the inspiration, it's just that I lack the time. And now I am utilizing class time to update those who care to read my blog. Yes, my three-hour night class is that exciting, ladies and gentlemen. To my consternation, I must report that I have yet to learn anything substantial from this class. But I'll try, don't worry, my little lemon drops.

Well, this has indeed been an exciting month for me! I think it's fair to say that photography has taken over my life, through the school newspaper and the marketing company for which I'm interning. Constant snaps of the shutter and refocusing and looking through the viewfinder have made me want to devote my life to such a profession. Too bad I have to finish college first... A few photos have already been published in brochures! Now, where do I go from here?

***

In honor of Lent, I have given up makeup. At first, it wasn't too bad: I look a little pale, but I just looked slightly rough. However, three days in, it's struck me that I'll look like this for 40 days. My friend had the classic reaction: I walk into the coffee shop, and he looks at me and says, "You look dead." Hmm! Why, thank you! So picture a cadaver, and that's me, I guess. Good thing I'm not really trying to impress anyone. Fortunately, I have a highly supportive boyfriend who has been constantly encouraging me. I know I can make it... It's just going to be a long 40.

***

In other news, our school of music will be shut down next year. Because of cost, says the president. For every dollar spent on the school, 22 cents are lost. Now, I'm partial to the fine arts. I grew up playing the violin and piano, had singing lessons, and was involved in two choirs in high school. The arts aren't profitable, folks. Why do you think they're called "starving artists"? The funny thing is that our school is going for university status. Um... Doesn't quite make sense to me... Anyway, this sudden announcement of the school closure has left many students in a lurch. My best friend has to transfer, along with some other acquaintances. It was a hard hit to many of us here. We shall soldier on, however. Somehow.

***

Hmm, have I had any recent thoughts? Here's one: The moment we stop asking questions is the moment we start dying a slow and complacent death.

As for me, I never stop observing. I've discovered that I make careful note of body language, which is fascinating. People are intriguing, don't you agree?

Oversights and Sticky Tack

I am back. And I am alive.

I have survived my first week of my first semester as a junior. It was tough, brutal, nigh impossible. But I have conquered.

Monday, which seems so long ago, began with an ironic statement. I woke up around 10, which never happens, and looked at my roommate, which also never happens, considering we're hardly in our tiny room at the same time. I laughed and said, "This will be the last time this ever happens," to which she also laughed.

An hour later, I received a call that made this statement come true. The director of Resident Life contacted me and asked if I would be willing to change rooms to help out an incoming student, if my roommate and I each got our own room. She and I talked it over and agreed that we would do so.

I now have my own room.

And I've discovered that duct tape is not a fix-all and that sticky-tack and cement blocks don't mix well. My decorations have come crashing down more than a few times, to my great frustration. However, I don't know if I'm willing to buy a glue gun and ruin the 10cc records just for fashion's sake...

To make my room a little more "alive," I purchased a tree yesterday. A cat palm tree, to be exact. Best purchase ever, since it was $5 from the omnipotent Wal-Mart (I will not be surprised if Mike Duke ran for U.S. President. More power to him, quite literally, if that were to happen). But I forgot that a tree might, perhaps, grow while I'm here... So I have no idea how that will work out.

****

On an entirely different note.

I've re-read Kate Chopin's "The Story of an Hour" and I could see myself as I used to be in Mrs. Mallard. For all who are not familiar with the short story, I recommend reading it highly, especially since it takes ten minutes at the most to read it (http://www.vcu.edu/engweb/webtexts/hour/).

The story, and I'm not spoiling anything here if you did take my advice to read it, ends with the ironic death of Mrs. Mallard, because she is shocked her husband is indeed alive, after fantasizing about her life of freedom when she hears of his death. Her views on marriage are/were similar to mine. Meaning, a ball and chain. Bentley Mallard, no matter how kind his intentions, had imposed his will upon his wife more than she liked, and his death meant no such cruelty any longer.

I'm slowly starting to morph my views into something a little less cynical. I have met someone, in case you're wondering. I'm totally open to what God has planned. I'm actually kind of amazed at how not-panicky/calm I am about this. Sure, I had a minor panic attack when I thought I could see my independence falling off the plank into the depths of the ocean. But after a soothing talk with a couple of my best friends, I am pretty excited for this.

***

I have started my fourth job for the semester as a photographer for a local marketing company. I have to get up at 7 tomorrow morning, which may not sound like a big deal. But remember, I'm a college student, which automatically means late nights due to procrastination, an art I have mastered. I am currently avoiding writing two papers due tomorrow.

I think one latte should do the trick of insomnia, don't you agree?

Too much of a Good Thing

I'm ready to go back.

This has been my second Christmas break home after being liberated to attend college, and it has gone better than last year's. Which could be saying something? I'm still not sure how I feel about this break as a whole. More movies and books, less socializing, more family time. All in all, a good break.

I've discovered much about myself. Rather, re-discovered or confirmed things I knew about myself. I have returned to my introvert roots and socialized hardly at all. However, by choosing seclusion, I have re-discovered my need for people. I find myself craving those close relationships that have been on sabbatical because of distance.

On the other hand...

I just dropped $300 on books for this coming semester. Granted, $60 of that was on a Holga camera and film, which is a treat. A spoonful of sugar and all that.

I'm going to have to be more organized this semester than any other. Which probably isn't saying much, since I'm not orderly at all.

However, I'm eager to buckle down and get straight As. Since all my classes are for my majors, it's vital I do so.

Here's hopin'!

A Product of Boredom

Well, now I've done it.

I've taken The Plunge and have now created a Blog. I must admit, I never much liked the idea of baring my soul for the world to see. I realize that I don't need to do so on here, that it's a matter of free will. In any case, this will be amusing to look back on when I'm old and gray.

I merely want an outlet for the thoughts that are tumbling
around in my head from time to time.

(Comments/suggestions/ advice very much welcome! From whomever may be reading this, not that I expect anyone to.)

Besides creating a blog, I have also done a few other things out of sheer boredom. I've actually had a block of time when I am able to read! I suppose I may as well spill the beans now: I'm a college student. In case this means nothing to you, it (for me, at least) means that I have no time or energy to do any free reading. So far, I've completed three books in the course of my Christmas break. Along with watching more movies than I care to admit...

I've also started a long-term project where I take a photo of myself every day for a certain amount of time. That period of time has yet to be determined, but so far I've decided one thing: I should have started when I go back to college. Why? Because then I have a reason to wear something other than sweatpants and a hoodie. So, for the first two weeks of my project, I've resigned myself to the fact that I will look like a strung-out druggie with makeup leftovers on her face looking for her next fix.

But only for the first two weeks.