I have a lot of...existential angst.

People, please, say what you mean.

We all spend way too much time tip-toe-ing around things and choosing our words, so that by the time we actually put enough words together to speak, we haven't really said anything at all.

If you think you shouldn't say something because it might be hurtful or rude, then don't say it. Don't change it and twist it until it's something vague, something blurred and meaningless, or worse, something even more hurtful.

Much truth is often said in jest. I believe that. We often turn things into a joke to soften the blow of what we're saying, but that doesn't mean that it has any less of an impact or hurts any less.

So much of conversation has become so impersonal and so...lazy. Where we used to call, we text. Where we used to write letters, we email, we facebook chat. We've lost so much contact with each other; we've abandoned face-to-face conversation. A text can't convey emotion or tone or sarcasm. It can't convey love or admiration. It's a wonder that we don't completely forget the sound of one another's voices. Instead of a face, a voice, you're talking to a screenname. A profile picture. I'm not trying to be a hypocrite; I know I'm just as guilty of this as anyone else. I guess you could even say that I'm being lazy now writing this blog, that instead, I should be sharing my opinions in a more active, personal way.

I don't think that all modern communication is bad. I really don't. I love texting and email and Facebook. I just think that we've become way too reliant on these things. It's unhealthy.

People need people. We need the comfort of another's voice or touch. We need the reassurance and warmth of a person's face, of smiles and laughs. We need to be able to look one another in the eye and feel a connection, an understanding.

It's so easy to be cold and distant and lazy in our relationships and our interactions. I think we could all stand to put a little more effort into what we do, into our friends and family, our loved ones.

Maybe this Facebook/blog/text thing is just a fad. Maybe it'll blow over. But, speaking as a member of the Facebook/text message generation, I think that might be wishful thinking.

Shortfalls and little sins

You know, they make mirrors now that can show you an exact image of yourself. I guess that would be kinda cool. I mean, it's basically like looking at a video of yourself. I think it would be weird though...think about it. Pretty much our entire lives, the physical image we have of ourselves is a mirror image; it's not really what we look like. Isn't that...strange to think about? That you've spent your life looking at a version of yourself that no one else sees?

It's weird to see yourself the way other people do, but maybe it would be good for people. In our heads, we have these images of ourselves that probably aren't accurate. If we could just have a day to see ourselves in the same light as those around us, would we be surprised? Would we see exactly what we expect or exactly the opposite? If you weren't you, would you like yourself?

We tend to take for granted the people closest to us. We treat them differently and sometimes worse than we would treat people we hardly know because we just assume that they'll always be there for us and accept all of our faults. And I guess, you might argue, that that's what friends and family are supposed to do: love us for who we are and look past our flaws. But that shouldn't give us a right to neglect our loved ones or treat them badly. The people who mean the most to us should be the people that we treat the best.

Maybe the reason all the mirrors in our bathrooms and on our closet doors show us reversed images of ourselves - the reason we don't have mirrors that show us exactly what we look like - is because those mirrors are all around us. Every day, in our parents and siblings, our friends, our boyfriends and girlfriends...everyone we encounter on a daily basis. Maybe it's not that we can't see what we look like to other people; maybe we choose not to. If we can ignore the things we do and say that would make us ashamed and the behaviors in ourselves that we would never accept in others, then we can be the good, perfect people we want to be without trying very hard, at least in our minds.

And you know what? Even though it's weird and foreign and maybe even scary, I would rather see myself honestly and without any facade than just casually accept and ignore my flaws. Maybe your reflections are the same in both mirrors. Maybe you're perfect. I'm not, and I know that. And I can look myself face on, through the reflection and try to see exactly who I am. Because if, one day, I come across one of those special mirrors, I want to be able to look in it and like what I see.

Love made suckers of us all

Jesus wept.

I know I've been all over this thing lately...but I've just had a lot to say I guess.

Also, with my facebook being...out of commission, I have no status to use as an outlet for my lyrics/quotes/thoughts/etc. And I...misplaced my journal. And these are just some of the things I've been wanting to write in it lately. They don't go together. I don't have a point to make. They're just...things.

So, for lack of a pen and paper...

"I've been thinking a lot lately about taking chances and how it's really just about overcoming your fears. Because the truth is, every time you take a big risk in your life, no matter how it ends up, you're always glad you did it."

Happiness is a lot like sorrow.

Let it be; you can't make it come and go,

But you are gone - not for good but for now.

But gone for now feels a lot like gone for good.

"Happiness isn't always the best way to be happy."

"I don't think people are meant to be by themselves. That's why if you actually find someone you care about, it's important to let go of the little things, even if you can't let go all the way. Because nothing sucks more than feeling all alone, no matter how many people are around."

You fall away from your past,

But it's following you.

"I've discovered that happiness isn't something we find; it's something we create."

And when you're gone, will they say your name?

When you're gone, will they love you the same?

If not...that's okay.

"Will you keep out all the sadness?"

"Sadness is easier because it's surrender. I say, make time to dance alone with one hand waving free."

"I think I've been asleep most of my life."

I wish life were as simple as song lyrics or children's books or movies. The song ends happy or it doesn't. That's the end. There aren't sequels for songs, no epilogues (usually). Once the song is over, it's over, and we don't really think about what happens after the song ends.

I wish there really were someone who could keep the sadness out. A king, a monster, a little boy...a higher power, a mother, a father, a friend... But it's an impossible task. It's an unreasonable request. And besides, it would be unfair. Sadness is a necessary part of life. It's one thing that we all share, regardless of race, sex, religion or background. We all feel pain. We all experience loss. And that's...a pretty depressing idea if you think about it, but it's true. It has to be true, because without sadness, we would have no basis for happiness. Without knowing what it feels like to be hopeless or depressed or just even down in the dumps, we wouldn't know joy when we feel it. It's like good, Wednesday pizza. It's a stretch, but go with me. In high school, every day they served pizza in one of the lines, and every day, it was yucky, normal, nothing-special, sometimes undercooked pizza...every day except Wednesday (it was Wednesday, right? Or was it Friday?). On Wednesdays (or whatever), they served delicious, hot, awesome pizza and everyone always got really excited for the good pizza days. It was a high point of the week, something to look forward to. Now, I've been told, good pizza day is every day. They always serve good pizza, and they never serve the yucky, cold pizza. And do you know what's happening? Kids aren't excited about good pizza anymore. It's just pizza. There's nothing special about it.

Happiness is like good pizza. It's not nearly as special or as good if you never have to eat cold gross pizza. It's old hat. It becomes mundane.

Sadness is important. It's unavoidable. It's life. But it has to be there. It has to pave the way for happiness so that we can fully appreciate it when we have it.

Because sometimes, the boy doesn't find the girl in the red hat. Sometimes he searches and searches in a sea of red hats, and he never finds her. Sometimes he gives up before he even starts, gets back in the car, and continues on his way.

...but sometimes he finds her. And that's what makes it all worth it.

Even the hummingbirds will feel the earthquake

I have two things to say. Well, at least two.

First thing. I had the weirdest and most vividly detailed dream last night.

There are actually two parts to the dream, and the first is less interesting, but I'll sum it up.

I was at my aunt's house. My aunt lives in D.C. and is pretty wealthy, and so she does have a nice house, but the house in my dream was not her house. It was a mansion. It had Victorian wallpaper and high ceilings and white daybeds with porcelain-looking frames painted with flowers. And porcelain doorknobs. And bathtubs with claw feet. Come to think of it, it was actually like a giant extravagant version of my uncle's house. But that's beside the point. In the dream, I was asleep in the guest room in the middle of the afternoon. The sun was shining through the curtains. It was really bright. It was weird because I know that I was asleep in the dream, but I could still see everything that was happening around me, so it was kind of like I was watching myself. First, these two little cat-like things came into the room. I think they were cats anyway. They were really small and weird. I apparently knew their names, but I don't remember. Anyway, they were running all over the place acting crazy and eventually woke me up. When I woke up, I looked around to see what was going on (even though I already sort of knew), and I saw that they were chasing something. I realized that it was a little plastic-looking mouse. I got really scared and started yelling for my aunt to come in, and then I shrunk. I was on the floor, under the bed with the mouse, and I was tiny. And the cats were chasing me too. But the mouse wasn't my friend. He was weird and scary, and I just wanted to be big again, so I kept calling for my aunt. She finally came in and saw the cats and the mouse and just laughed and then called the mouse by my cousin's name and told me to calm down, and that was the end of that part of the dream.

End scene.

In the next part of the dream, I was visiting the high school. I don't really remember how I got there or why I was going there, but as soon as I walked in the door, I was in a room that looked strikingly similar to the Divination tower in Harry Potter. Or maybe the hospital wing. Or my old preschool. It was definitely a tower, but it was bright and white like the hospital wing and somehow just felt like my old preschool. Anyway, I was in this weird room that definitely does not exist in PMHS, and somehow it was brought to my attention that it was the detention room and that I was in detention. Fortunately, also in detention were my good friend Jenny, a former high school crush of mine, and then another girl who may or may not hate me (in real life, but it didn't really seem like it in the dream). There were a lot of other people there too, but I didn't seem to know them. So, I sat down next to Jenny, and she started telling me why everyone was in detention. Then, highschoolcrushguy came over and started talking to us, but he was much more effeminate than he is in real life (or at least more than he was in high school). Together, they told me that girlwhoprobablyhatesme had sort of gone crazy and always sat in the corner and talked to herself (and sure enough, there she was in the corner playing with a dandelion and laughing to herself). Then, we were scolded for talking by the teachers in charge of detention, who happened to be Dr. Cox from Scrubs and Vanessa from Gossip Girl. So, we stopped talking for a while, but then Dr. Cox announced that we were going on a field trip, so we all got up and left the room. Apparently, the field trip was just taking a tour of the school (which now looked exactly like my old preschool) led by Vanessa. At the end of the tour, we stopped at the coffee shop (yeah, the school had a coffee shop) which, of course, looked just like the coffee shop in Scrubs. As we all got coffee, Dr. Cox sat down at a table and had a muffin with Ashlee Simpson, who appeared out of nowhere and had a huge, ugly up-do (like the one in that hairspray commercial where the girl goes to the beach and looks like she has a beehive on her head...). So, Dr. Cox and Ashlee Simpson ate muffins and held hands, and then my alarm went off.

End scene.

So yeah. That's weird.

Second thing. I hate that Xanga still exists. And that I can still find my Xanga. I feel like it should have been destroyed by now, but I can't bring myself to get rid of it. It's just so...embarassingly, pathetically great. It's like a window into my past. It weird; after I'd been reading it for quite some time, I stopped, and I actually had to take a second and remember who I am and where and when I am. It's like I got sucked into middle school/early high school-Jessie land. Scary.

Those are the two things. I don't really have all that much to say. I just wanted to 1) preserve that ridiculous dream and 2) point out to everyone that Xanga is awful (/awesome).

Life is always hard for the belle of the boulevard

I can't sleep.

I have all these thoughts bouncing around in my head, and they're keeping me awake.

I keep reliving things that have already happened...revisiting my past emotions.

I don't know why. This is self-destructive. I'm making myself sad.

I'm going to blame hormones.

Anyway, I've been told that the best way to deal with emotions/thoughts is to write it out, and I was getting ready to do that when I found this...journal entry that I wrote sometime last year. I never posted it, but I think now I want to. So, here it is, direct from January 30, 2009 (with a few minor grammatical corrections, but other than that, pretty much as written).

I think it's important to know who you are and what your flaws are as well as your strengths. This, in my opinion, is the only way you can possibly become the person you most want to be. You must be aware of and at peace with (or willing to try to fix) your flaws, but you must also know your strengths so that you can use them to grow and improve (if not just to remind you that you are special and that you have value). So, I don't know how accurate I'll be, but this is how I see myself:

Strengths:

• I'm smart. Not like genius smart, but I do think I'm a pretty intelligent person. I've always gotten good grades and most things come pretty naturally to me.
• I'm talented. Again, I may not be a prodigy or the next Julie Andrews, but I do think I have some sort of natural talent - specifically musical. I have been told and do believe to an extent that I have "gift," so to speak, for music, specifically singing.
• I'm a good listener. I've been somewhat introverted most of my life, but one advantage I've gained from that is the fact that I've learned to listen to people and maybe hear them more than other people who might be more talkative themselves.
• I work hard in relationships. I don't just mean "love" relationships; I mean all kinds of relationships. For those people I care about the most, I will be there any time they need me (so long as I wake up). I will listen to what they need to say and give advice if they need it, but mostly I mean that unless they do something completely unforgivable (like murder or something of that nature), I will stay by their side(s) whether I agree with them or not.
• I'm not...unattractive. I don't want to say I'm pretty, because until recently, I'd never really thought of myself that way. But yeah, I'm sorta pretty I guess.
• I'm funny...or I can be. My sense of humor might be a little weird, but some people think I'm funny, I guess.
• I'm creative. I really think that this might be my best strength. I'm good at coming up with clever/cute/good ideas for gifts, projects, even future business plans. I'm an idea person. I'm constantly coming up with plans and ideas. I think this is what could take me places. I could do big things.

Flaws:

I don't want to list all of them right now (or ever, really), but these are the ones I think are kind of big.

• I don't show my emotions. I don't get mad or upset very often, but when I do, I keep it inside and let it build up until I can't handle it anymore and have a big messy meltdown. It's probably unhealthy, but it's just how I work. I'm trying to be better.
• I don't show affection easily. I don't often hug my friends. I don't tell my parents I love them. I have a lot of trouble expressing to guys how I feel about them. I don't know what it is; I've just never been comfortable showing much affection.
• I'm impatient. I've gotten a lot better about this in recent years, but I'm still not a particularly patient person. I don't like to wait my turn; I don't like to wait for people, and I don't like to wait for things to happen.
• I'm lazy. If I have the choice between getting up and doing something productive (but unnecessary) and lying in bed and watching TV, I'll usually choose the latter. I do work hard when it comes to things that are important or that I'm passionate about, but in general, I'm kind of lazy.
• I worry too much. This, I think, is probably my biggest flaw. I find that when I have too much time to think, I end up running down all of my worries and problems in my head. I think them to death, and I probably just make the problem way worse in my head than it is in real life, and I worry unnecessarily. I worry all the time.

I think, for now, that's where I am with myself. I'm not going to dwell on any of this; instead, I'm going to try to build upon my strengths and remedy my faults. I know that I will probably never completely be rid of these flaws, but hopefully, my awareness of them will help me to not let them bring me down. This is my hope and my aim.

Goodnight.

You can't deny, you're lookin' for the sunset

Happy list: a list of things that make me happy. :)

(this idea may or may not have been stolen from a friend)

• Music - listening with the sound all the way up and my eyes closed; getting lost in it
• Cats purring - I know this makes me sound like a crazy person, but I really love petting purring cats. Always have.
• The smell of spring
• The first time it's cold enough for hot chocolate (but not cold enough for a hat and gloves)
• The first Christmas lights in December
• Blankets ("a cool breeze and then a warm softness")
• Fuzzy socks
• Learning a new song on the guitar
• Singing alone in the car
• Taping Postsecrets up on my wall
• The smell of grilling in the summer
• Double-sided satin ribbons
• Tassels (and other dangly things like earrings and necklaces)
• The smell of apples
• A clean bedroom (which hardly ever happens)
• Lots and lots of pillows
• Unexpected visitors (preferably with unexpected presents)
• Having missed texts when I wake up in the morning (I don't care how much this makes me a typical member of the cell phone generation. It makes me happy)
• Discovering new favorite movies/songs
• Rediscovering old favorite movies/songs
• Changing the calendar
• Naming things: cars, stuffed animals, real animals, guitars, vacuums...you name it, I'll name it. :)
• Caramel Apple Spice at Starbucks
• Caramel Apple milkshakes from Steak 'N Shake
• Heath bars
• Movie marathons
• Buttons (it's true; they really are cute)
• The smell of leaves in the fall (like right after you jump into a pile)
• Honey sticks
• The drive from Indy to Bloomington (or vice versa) on a pretty day
• People playing with my hair (people that I know, not random strangers)
• Driving at night/road trips at night
• Solving the Cryptoquip
• Making (CD) mixes
• Figuring out what to give people for Christmas and then the whole gift-buying/making process
• Wrapping presents
• The sound of rain on my skylights
• Finding old pictures I'd forgotten about
• Raindrops on roses
• Whiskers on kittens
• Just kidding about those last two

I'll add to this as I think of more :)

And it's still so hard to be who you are, but you've come this far and you're broken...

This is something I've been wanting to write for a while, but I haven't...had the words. Until now.

I've been thinking a lot this summer about change.  Specifically, how much I've changed...in the past 4 years, the past year, the past 4 months.  

This summer has been really...different for me.  It was nothing that I expected, but it was, I think, a lot of things that I needed.  There was a time this summer when I was the lowest I've ever been.  I felt sad and hopeless and really, painfully alone.  I've never felt like that before.  I completely broke down...to my core.  Down to the foundation.  And when I got there, I stayed.  I didn't move.  I just sat still and surrounded myself by my complete and utter melancholy.  Despite all the people trying to give me comfort and support, I felt like I had no one.  No one could possibly understand.  No one could make it better.  I was empty.  

It's interesting, I think, how sometimes your worst moments can also be your best.  It wasn't until I was down there, at the bottom of my breakdown, feeling like no one cared about me and like no one could help, that I realized just how many people do care about me.  I'm usually a pretty closed off person.  I don't let people in to see my emotions.  But this time I did.  I let myself be completely vulnerable and exposed.  And it helped me to keep moving.  I started to build myself back up, brick by brick.  And as I sifted through the rubble of what was my life, I found pieces of the person I used to be.  It was like a restoration.  I kept the parts that worked and that were strong and good, but I left behind the pieces that I thought were bringing me down and tried to make something new and better in their place.  I'm a work in progress though.  Along the way, I've had my pitfalls.  I've lost a few bricks here and there, and I still am and probably still will for a while, but I'm getting there.  I'm moving forward, building up.  

I had a conversation recently about the person I am now, as I'm about to be a sophomore in college,  compared to the person I was at the start of my sophomore year in high school.  And it's strange...because...while my immediate response was to say that I'm a completely different person, the more I think about it, the more I realize that those two people are a lot more alike than I thought.  A lot has happened in the past 4 years.  I've had a lot of successes but also a lot of failures.  I've made and lost friends.  I had my first relationship...and my second, and my third.  I've had my first real heartbreak, and I've recovered from it - well, am recovering.  I've learned how to be myself and I've learned who I am.  I've also learned that I'm constantly changing and having to rediscover who I am...and I've learned to love the discovery.  I've cried myself to sleep.  I've cried until I had no tears left.  But I've also laughed until I cried.  I've moved out and back in.  I've learned to let go.  I've learned to live.  

And yet, through all of this, I find myself in a very familiar position.  I'm at a place of uncertainty.  I'm still not completely sure of what I'm doing.  I'm still getting used to this new part of my life.  I'm caught between two worlds: the home I've known forever and the new home I'm still trying to make for myself.  

I said at one point during high school that sohpomores really have no place.  You're not a freshman, so you don't get the free pass of being new, but you're also not an upperclassmen, so you don't really get the privilege of acting like you know what you're doing and like you own the place.  That might have been a little harsh, but what I'm trying to get at is the fact that at this point in my life, it feels a little bit like I'm in limbo.  I'm still trying to let go of my past and my old life while also figuring out my new life and my new place.  I'm stuck.

It's not a bad feeling though, necessarily.  It's kind of...exciting.  It's a chance for me to have a new start and figure out who I really want to be and what I want from life.  It's an adventure :)

Change is a funny thing. 

I wrote something a while back about ghosts...about how they remind you of who you were and show you who you are.  I want to add something to that now.  

At the time that I wrote that, the "ghosts" were reminding me of who I had been and helping me realize who I am, but now, I think they're guiding me to who I'm going to become.  (I know this sounds super hippie-trippy, but just go with me.)  

I'm constantly changing.  It never stops.  

But, I think what's different now is that I've finally figured out how to keep up :)  

Let me light up the sky, light it up for you.

There's no such things as shooting stars.
They don't exist.
They're meteoroids - pieces of cosmic debris that have entered the Earth's atmosphere...basically just rocks or parts of rock-like objects. Most meteoroids are smaller than a grain of sand. The path, the light that we see, the thing we call a "shooting star" is called a meteor.

It's not as...romantic or magical when you think about it that way. Who wants to wish on the light path of cosmic particle entering the Earth's atmosphere?

No, I prefer shooting stars. I'm sure it seems childish or naive, but I don't see any harm in believing in shooting stars and shooting star wishes.

It's kind of like faith, or at least, that's how I think of it. I don't mean religion, just faith. It's knowing that something doesn't make sense or acknowledging that something seems impossible but believing in it anyway, regardless of what makes sense, what's logical. I don't think there has to be a reason or an explanation for everything. I think there are certain things that should be able to ride just on faith, even if it's something silly that's just for the sake of magic and...whimsy, like shooting stars.

Everyone believes in something.
Some people believe in a lot of somethings.
I think I'm a person who believes in a lot of somethings. Some of them are silly...some of them aren't.
But I definitely believe in shooting stars...and shooting star wishes.

Carry on...you will always remember.

It's strange how a place can be so utterly unchanged and yet so completely different.

This past week, I returned to a place that represents what used to be a large part of my life. St. Mary of the Woods College, in Terre Haute, is where band camp was held 3 of the 4 years I was in the marching band in high school. Despite all the stigmas associated with it, band camp has always been a place of routine and structure: stretches in the morning, breakfast, march, lunch, free time, music rehearsals, march, dinner, march, etc. I know this schedule backwards and forwards. I spent one week every summer for 4 years following it.
When we got to St. Mary's, I was comforted to find that nothing had changed since I last saw it. The dorm, Le Fer, with its marble floors and high ceilings looked just how I remembered it as we climbed the 3 flights of marble stairs to the fourth floor, the same one where we stay every year. The conservatory was just as run-down and dimly lit as always and the practice rooms just as muggy and cluttered. Even the food was the same: tater tots at least twice during the week, the best salad bar in the world and a small, yet never disappointing ice cream selection.

It was all so familiar, so inviting and welcoming. It felt like going home again, back to a place where I know what I'm doing and I know who I am and where I belong...a place where everyone knows me, and I don't have to explain myself to anyone. But something was different. This year, rather than being one of the students, one of the band, I was there as staff, a marching and music instructor. I suddenly found myself in an entirely different position as I thought back to all the instructors I'd had throughout the years. They'd all seemed so much older than I was, and I admired them (most of them) and looked up to them and tried and failed to imagine being like them.

I've found that there are these rare moments in life when you're able to see yourself through the eyes of those around you, and it puts your life into a very different perspective.
This was one of those times.

As I went through the daily routine and walked (not marched) all over this campus that I know like the back of my hand, what I finally came to realize is that the thing that is different - the thing that has changed while everything has remained seemingly the same - is me. The person that I used to be, the one who knew what she was doing and who she was and where she belonged, that person is gone. That life is gone. The person I am now is so completely and indescribably different from that girl that it feels as if I never lived that life at all. It's as if I'm describing someone else's life, not my own. When I think about it, it's almost like I'm remembering it in the third person. And the fact is, I don't belong there any more, at least not in the same capacity. And I don't know who this person is, at least I don't fully understand yet.

It's a strange feeling when you realize you've lost a part of yourself. It's like that little piece has left your body and your mind, but then, when you return to those old, familiar places, it's still there, like a ghost of you...following you, haunting you. But not all ghosts are bad. Some are there to remind you of who you were and show you who you are. They help you to relive the past, the good times and the bad times, and see how far you've come.

That place, St. Mary's, and many others will always feel like home to me. It will always be a place where I can feel safe and wanted and secure. But if what they say is true (and I think it is), you can't go home again. You can visit, stay the weekend, but it will never be the same. It's now just a part of your past...my past. All I can do is be here, now, and know that this is where I belong. I'm going to live and enjoy my life now, in the present, so that when it becomes the past, I can know that the person who haunts all the places I now call home is every bit of the person I wanted to be. It's all that I can do, and it's exactly what I'm doing.

A little voice inside my head said, "Don't look back. You can never look back."

I had a dream a couple of nights ago.

In it, I was Meg Ryan, and I was engaged to Bill Pulman (you know, the dad from Casper?).

It was either the night before or the day of our wedding, and I (Meg Ryan) was sharing some sort of bedroom suite with Brad Pitt.  Apparently we'd been conducting this affair for a while, and, as it turns out, Brad Pitt and I had dated years before and had broken up, but we started seeing each other again after I was engaged to Bill Pulman.  Anyway, I don't really remember much of the middle part of the dream, but in the end, I ended up with Brad Pitt in what seemed like a perfect, cheesy, chick-flicky ending.  

After the dream, I woke up with that feeling you get after having a happy dream.  I reveled in that for a while, but then I started to remember more of the dream and started thinking, "Am I allowed to feel happy about this?  I had an affair and ruined a relationship, and I (as Meg Ryan) didn't feel the smallest bit of guilt about it."  

I know it seems silly, and it was just dream, but I actually do have a point.  This whole "affair" thing got me thinking about how often I've thought or said, "I would never do something like that," and what I really have been thinking about is how often I've actually ended up doing some of those things I never thought I'd do.  At first, this made me feel kind of...discouraged and ashamed of myself, but I've realized that feeling embarrassed or ashamed or disappointed of things I've done or said or thought isn't getting me anywhere.  Though I might not be proud of some of those things, I've done them, and there's nothing I can do to change that.  And really, if you can go through life without doing anything that you regret, well, good for you, but I don't think that's realistic.  

I guess what I'm really saying is that I need to learn to live for right now and not dwell on what happened in the past.  That may seem like a big DUH, but I don't think it's something I've ever really thought about, at least not in reference to myself.  

In the end, I don't want to be thinking about all the things I wish I hadn't done.  My life is what it is and will be what it will be.  I am defined by what I have and haven't done, and I have to be willing to let go of who I thought I was and be aware of and accept and eventually (hopefully) be happy with who I am now.

Just because you do something that might be looked down upon or that you always swore you wouldn't do, you're NOT a bad person.  You are who you are, and that's all there is to it.  

(That's not to say, of course, that I would condone murder or terrorism or anything like that just because those people were "being who they are," but that's not really the point, is it?  You know what I'm saying.)

Normal people do it too

I've been wanting to start one of these for a while...for a few different reasons.  For one, I'm jealous and a copycat.  But also, I think a lot and I end up with a lot of different thoughts and ideas in my head and no outlet.  Mostly it's jealousy though.

I've been thinking a lot recently about the things that make people who they are.  I know that sounds incredibly vague, but here's what I mean: 

Everyone talks about "finding yourself" and being "true to yourself," but I've always had trouble with those concepts.  If I say that I'm "finding myself" that implies that what I'm looking for is something concrete and definite that I'm going to find somewhere...but I don't think that's the case.  I don't like to think of myself as some sort of fixed, unchanging being.  People aren't meant to stay the same forever.  We're supposed to change and evolve and adapt with the natural ebb and flow of our lives.  

Yesterday, I set out on sort of a symbolic journey to "Normal" (Illinois) to celebrate where I am in my life and how far I've come in just a year.  About halfway there, the car broke down, and we were stranded in Illinois for the day.  We started talking about what it might mean that we never made it to "Normal," mostly as a joke, but it got me thinking.  It seems to me that the whole idea of trying to get to normal is a little misguided...  What I mean is that we're chasing something that doesn't really exist.  We're never going to get there.  My "Normal" changes just as I change; it's not a set point.  I don't think there's anything wrong with having a goal in life, but I think we need to learn to accept the fact that that goal might have to be...malleable.  You know how people say that it can never be tomorrow because it's always today?  It's like that.  The direction or goal of a person's life has to change as he gets closer to reaching it.  

There's a quote I like that goes, "We're all waiting for something." 

I think that's true, but I think it would be just as accurate to say, "We're always waiting for something."  Do we ever really get where we're headed or obtain the things we want?  Obviously, yes, but as soon as you get there or have it, isn't it true that you almost immediately start thinking about your next destination or something else that you want?  I know that's true for me.  I don't think there's anything wrong with it; on the contrary, I don't know any other way to live.  If I had no direction in life, if as soon as I reached my goal I stopped moving forward, I wouldn't know what to do with myself.  If I'm not working toward anything, then what's the point?  I think there is a particular joy in life that can only be found in the challenges and obstacles we face in pursuit of something we can't really see and that we might never find, the impossible, the unreachable.  

I think that's just what Normal is (besides being a city in Illinois): an idea.  It's out of reach, but it keeps us moving.  The hope of one day finding it is what gives us the momentum and strength to keep going day to day (even if, on some level, we know we never will).  

So that's where I am.  I'm not entirely sure where that is, but I guess it's here.  I'm on my way.