this makes me want so badly to go back

one of those days

At work, there are certain days when I just want to freeze the room (a la Piper from Charmed)—to enjoy a moment when time stops and I may shout a purgative wail before I kick someone’s immobile body to the floor. A small part of me always expects that one day God will grant me these powers; He’s just waiting until I’m responsible and mature enough. Until then, He leaves me only the passive and private powers of mantras and prayers (not nearly as explosively satisfying as I imagine superpowers are).

Today there was no respite until lunch break. Then there was Diet Mountain Dew Code Red, Tylenol (as far as inventions go, it ranks up there with the www, laptops, and iPods), and--the icing on the relaxation cake--my QC2 noise canceling headphones playing Enya. Within minutes I was cat-stretching in my car out in the parking lot before contemplating deep thoughts about the future. I went back to work ½ an hour later, sans headache and feeling 7 times better than at first clock-out.

Work ended and I made the drive home down the traffic clogged 1-8 East. After arriving, I realized that I needed to do laundry. I called my mom and she informed me that a close family friend whom I’ve known all my life passed away this morning. She was only in her 60s. We talked about that for a few sobering minutes before she asked me why I called. I hesitated. Began. Then paused. “I...I, I wanted to know how to get a stain out of my jacket.” There was silence and then I started to nervously laugh. She got the joke and started to laugh too. The juxtaposition of the solemn and the mundane was more than a bit ridiculous—but so is life.

I had many intentions to begin my schoolwork early—but that never pans out. Instead, I read my blogs and decided to call some friends to get a sane-tifying dose of vicarious holiness, ambition, and intelligence. It worked.

Now, I’m getting ready to get to sleep. Still haven’t touched my homework, but I think it can wait.

friends

sometimes they pleasantly surprise and sometimes they disappoint. some are needy and some don't need me enough. some bring out qualities i like and others bring out the qualities i don't.

but barring all qualifications, they teach me about life, the world, me, and God. for this, i am grateful.

spam

I ate Spam for the first time tonight. Ehh...it was ok. It's just the chicken nuggets of pork--"What part of the pig did this come from? Oh. I don't care; It tastes pork-y." Plus, it comes in a can, and, though I risk botulism, I don't fear every subsequent itch as the onset of trichinosis.

always hopeful for a time when I don't write things like this

sitting here out-of-shape, homely
numb with everything

a body and will that betray me

a talker/writer but not a doer

a mind so sick and small
i'm not sure what i want
that's a lie
i want what everybody wants
recogntion, caring

so selfish still

i just want to matter
to say worthy things

kill a neurosis
read a book
have faith
someone to love
someone to love me

i want to be someone else

ipod charging
cold feet beneath an electric blanket
noise canceling headphones donned
wardrobe in the closet
typing at computer
-the blessed life, you know


self-aware of the ego consuming all

had a similar crisis in london
some voice just kept repeating,
"get out of yourself"
insight is a bit stale now
maybe, i'll do that mission trip
concerning future,
it's one of only a few respectable
things I have to talk about

highs of life:
music
laughing

i want God on the list
but i don't try hard enough

i'm defensive too
i do want to change
become what i'm supposed to be in Christ

though, for now i just feel
that i have to go back to fundamentals
be honest

i'm not a good christian
not a good male
not a good student
not a good learner

so I'm incongruent
the answer isn't lying about where i'm at
or running away from those ideals

i don't want affirmation
and change seems impossible
so i just go numb
and this rut stretches into the future

sex talk

I told my counselor (I used “therapist” in a recent post before I remembered I don’t aspire to write chick-lit) that I wanted to be more open about sex-y stuff. I may have been raving though, imagining throwing discreteness to the wind like I wanted to get everyone’s attention at the party and then vomit all of my chaos onto the dance floor.

He kinda shook his head. He grabbed a white board (these people draw A LOT—who knew psychology was so spatial?). Three concentric circles later, he was explaining to me that some stuff you share with only the small, inner circle, other stuff with the middle circle, and even less with the biggest circle.

It didn’t feel like the right time to say, “But Anne Lamott says...”

All in all, I think he wanted me to intellectualize it, psychologize it—but I just kept thinking, "That's your job."

His cross-examination made me a little more hopeful, though—like he’s on to something: these things get better when they’re talked through soberly and with insight. Jokes are there, but only to grease the wheels, not to divert attention. This, IMHO, is more of what churches and Christian schools like mine need: sex to be talked about in a way that’s honest and captivating without being ridiculously solemn or too wink-wink silly. It should be talked about the way it's actually lived--in all its complicated facets.

So I’ve put my brain to the task, coming up with some more to say for my next session. I’d tell you, but I just can’t be sure that you’re in the smallest circle.

fun with international law notes

Premature recognition – It’s common and even normal for States your age. Not to be fretted over too much; it’s probably psychological. Perhaps, recognize yourself shortly before multilateral talks are expected. Also, consider using two envoys.

this is what nancy gets for having me bail her out and sharing notes for the textbook she hasn't received yet