The 8th Day

So I am attempting to get better at the whole "If you don't have something nice to say to someone, don't say anything at all" thing...or at least I am trying to not say stuff that serves no ultimate purpose beyond my personal gratification of saying it. But then WHERE IS THE OUTLET???

And on the eighth day, God created blogging.

So without further adieu:

Dear (name withheld),

You are ridiculous. It has been super interesting for me to watch you grow up and become a man. Because though I thought you were a man when I met you four years ago, you most certainly were not. You have grown and changed and matured, and I am in my heart of hearts, SO proud of you. I know it hasn't been easy. In fact, I know these past four years have been some of the hardest, but sometimes that's what it takes to get a person to grow up.

I think the thing that gets me is that you have not become the person I always thought you were. There is still a tiny (very tiny) part of me that thinks it knows you better than you do (and oh man, reading that would probably piss you off greatly).

It's just funny to me that someone so goofy and fun can also come across as so over serious. Maybe I just can't synthesize the two sides. I know you care deeply about things, and things that really matter. But the way you express this through over-dramatic facebook notes that I "need to pass on until everyone I know has read about said travesty that was caused by texting while driving" just comes across as something my mom would forward to all of her friends. Maybe I don't like it because it doesn't seem like you. Then again, maybe I don't know you anymore. Maybe we just care about different things. There is also a good chance that I am getting to witness first hand what it looks like for you to express the things you care about. Maybe these are the first tottering steps of an activist and the wrinkles will iron themselves out. Or perhaps not. Maybe this is just who you are.

And who I thought you were is not who you are. Or is it? I think I am still coming to terms with the death of a dream. And I think that's okay. Best of luck, and many blessings. You know I'll always love you (in the simple and pure friendship sense, of course :).

Always,
Melanie

The Beliefs of Leon

Talking to my best guy friend who totally doesn't believe in God, he says:

Ya, I tried to see people's auras for like two days, but I couldn't...they were all sort of yellow, but I think that was just because of the light...then I realized I just didn't believe in them. (completely serious)

Other wonderful things he has said: (he is a writer)

So I started writing sonnets the other day...it just felt right. (He has since stopped writing sonnets because it no longer feels right.)

I have renounced math, even basic arithmetic...I no longer believe in it. (not completely serious, but HILARIOUS)

Oh Leon, how I love you.

Ignore What You Know. Ha!

Here is what I learned today:

You have to play their game. Or, you have to let them play their own game I guess.

I am a fairly intuitive person. I can tell when a guy likes me. And because I am a "why waste time" kind of girl, if I see it and I like him too, I call him on it, or somehow make him tell me he likes me. I get frustrated with the time lag. So I say stuff, stuff gets messed up (guy gets scared and runs away, or I am in control of the relationship, or we have an epic Clark failure, from here on referred to as an ECF). If I don't like the guy, I ignore the signals in the hopes that they will go away. When in reality that is EXACTLY THE RIGHT THING TO DO because if the guy is going to make a move, he needs time, and will make said move when he is ready. So this is why it seems like only the guys I don't like are the ones with enough courage to ask me out, and why I am left complaining about how no guys I like, like me. Some guys I like do like me, I just rob them of the opportunity to tell me.

It makes so much sense it kills me. Basically, the lesson is: shut your mouth and let things take care of themselves. Even if you know crap, SHUT UP.

Such an eeeeeeaaaaasyyyy lesson.

Wait...is this the meaning of the phrase "Let the man think it was his idea" or whatever? Ugh. There is no justice.

Prayer for the Future aka My Cats, Spin and Stir

I look around me and see everything that is, everything physically present, the people I live with and what they have, and I know this is not the place for me. The things I have said no to, the things that could have been mine, had I just said yes...but I said no. I said no for reasons that made sense at the time, but loneliness has a mind of its own. And sometimes the loneliness of the now is more powerful than the knowledge of the discontent that was. It's hard to not get lost in "knowing you made the right decision".

So this is my prayer for the future:

I pray that if and when I have two cats, they will not be named Spin and Stir. I ask for a place to be prepared for me in Portland. I pray that my heart will be only on what is set before me.

Hebrews 12:1-2
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Proverbs 25-27
Let your eyes look straight ahead,
fix your gaze directly before you.

Make level paths for your feet
and take only ways that are firm.

Do not swerve to the right or the left;
keep your foot from evil.

Every time I walk past "Smart Ones" in the freezer section of the grocery store, I feel as though the frozen food is making a snide comment at me.

There are times when the only thing I take comfort in is the fact that truly crazy people don't stop to wonder if they're actually crazy.

My "just before I wake up" dreams

Yesterday morning I was using the GPS on my phone. It was dim, and pretty stormy, and I was walking around, holding it out, looking at the map and looking ahead of me, like it was some sort of metal detector. It led me to some sort of island, not tropical, but it was a splintery wooden floor surrounded by crashing waves. Once I got there it was very apparent the waves had cut me off from going back. I wasn't panicked, but I do recall taking note of that. My GPS was technically taking me to Portland. On the splintery wooden floor were boxes, half packed and stacked on top of each other, like a room in the midst of getting ready to go. My friend Leon was there. All I remember was sitting on a couch next to him and firmly putting my hand on his knee, in a way that let him know I was there for him. I miss him a a lot.

This morning I was at my cousin's house. Or, well, it was a big house where both of my cousins happened to be. I needed to do some sort of an interview or survey about what people ate, and I wanted to talk to my cousin Karen. I called, I think from downstairs, and my cousin Adrienne picked up. She went to check on Karen and after doing so, told me that she was asleep. I saw all of that happen in my dream, even though I was technically on the phone downstairs. Adrienne insisted on helping me with the survey, rather adamantly actually, and I was reluctant. She eats really weird things and for some reason I didn't was to write down all of the natural and organic herbal things that are in her diet. But I gave in, and climbed the stairs to the very top floor (she lives on the third story of her real house when we are all there for Thanksgiving, so this makes sense to me). But the third floor was a giant brightly lit hallway with doors on either side and looked sort of like a mall. I think there was a large plant in the center. I remember I had a rolly suitcase and a large bag of sliced baguette bread about the same size as my suitcase with me. I asked someone which room my cousin was in, and a man who seemed like the landlord pointed me in the right direction. After that all I remember is playing with her son Josh, who was living inside of a large plastic package, the kind that trail mix from Target comes in, but bigger, and there was Asian salad mix in the bag along with him. All of this was normal, Josh was happy. And the overall feeling of the dream was that I relaxed. I was among family.