(no subject)
the thing about the rain destroying the foolish man's house is that
now he's a bit worn for the wiser and can build a house on the rock.
hmm, i was going to write something about how i think chipotle is overrated and how i learned that there really isn't that big of a difference (size-wise) between a fajita and a burrito, since i can't finish either of them (although i've never actually had a burrito before, and i'd probably had never tried the fajita-- hmm, what is the difference between the two?-- if it weren't for the school giving them out for free the other day but that's besides the point) and they both make you feel quite the hot-air balloon for the next few hours, if not days...but then i decided not to. [i *heart* praeterition. tis so sneakishly sneaky. =D]
anyhoo. and then i was also going to write about how my life has been a lot like an old house built of rotting wood {when i think of the word "rotten", a sinisterly pucker-green crabapple comes to mind for some reason} that has slowly been torn apart, hacked to pieces. mmm, i don't know, it's weird. it's weird how i don't even try to do something, and yet things just happen. have you ever been in a situation where you're trying to avoid a person, but it's like that person just turns up nearly everywhere you go? kind of like that, except replace the person with more of just general action. hmm, well, and the person thing is also happening, but it's more the general action that i'm focused on. i don't know, something about going with the flow and all that...it takes such trust. i've never surfed (i don't even know how to wade in a kiddie pool, for that matter), but i imagine that it's a lot like that. just trusting the wave to carry you to shore and back and forth, trusting on your ability to stay steady on the board so that the wave neither overwhelms you nor weakens to the point where you're just bobbing around helplessly.
i went to a silent dinner last friday as a part of my asl class, and it was so majorly cool. *bounce bounce* =P i spent most of the time there talking with a guy named matt who could both hear and sign, thanks to his trusty hearing aid. i told him that i was really nervous, and he told me that the only way i could truly learn asl was to go to things like the silent dinners, to just sit and talk with people. "practice makes perfect," he signed. hmm. and that made me think of something i had said at the campfire at retreat [ok, tangent. have you ever noticed how when you say something to try and influence/affect/educate others, most of the time it comes back to yourself? like...i still remember the things that i said when i led worship those few sporadic times during yg friday nights, and i definitely still remember the lesson that i taught that one small group. and i remember all these things that i meant for others to take something from, but in the end...it's me who's learning from myself. it's kind of cool in a deja-vu-ish sort of way. i mean, think about it, how God orchestrates it so that what you say to someone in their time of need actually comes back full circle to yourself when you're in need. which is also frustrating in a way, since you know the answer already, but overall, tres nifty.] about how i didn't like piano because i didn't want to practice because i didn't like having to do the recitals, and then i drew a connection between quiet times and prayer and just general growing as sort of embodying the "practice" and then the whole spiritual warfare (as far as the college campus is concerned) as the "recital", where you play and show your stuff. hmm, that, and among other things.
life is just...hard. and yet so rewarding, and yet so unfulfilling and unsatisfying and yet and yet and yet. so many things and their opposites. how can both be true at the same time? i understand that the only way that a caterpillar escapes its cocoon, the only way a fruit blossoms into being-- struggle. yes, i get that. i get that the wallpaper of my life has to come down, like nails screaming down a board, leaving gaping gashes and strips of what-used-to-be in order to clear the way for what-is-to-come. i just don't get how come it's still so hard, even though i know that i know all of this, you know? (don't worry, you don't have to understand me. you just have to put up with these words tumbling out of my being. thanks.) i suppose it's just the shadows that are getting to me. i'm wondering when (if) i'll ever be able to truly let go. i know i have to, but sometimes knowing something is even worse than not knowing, because then there's no excuse not to act upon it, and you end up stalling and grasping at the shadows of old straws and old comforts, even though you know it isn't appropriate. but see, the funny thing is, even as i'm typing this, watching the cursor move forward as it leaves a letter in its trail, i know i'll be fine. i know that i'll get through this (if not simply because i have to), and i know that there is a plan much much bigger than the one i have inside my head, and much much much bigger than the one i hold inside my heart.
girl scout cookies are addicting. [hmm, i was actually going to say "girl scout cookies = poor man's crack", but i think that the time is yet to come (if ever it arrives) that that last word can come out of my mouth and not sound like i just yelled in a library. you know? although, i don't know, i was shopping with my sister and we were looking at baby boy clothes, and i mentioned some phrase or so that's definite eubonic in nature, and...hmm. and i watch BET at school because, well. yeah. ok. i am surrounded by a lot of black people. =P and i guess it's changing me a little. but still, not to the point where something like "you be pimpin'" would ever sound comfortable coming from my lips. =X so i shouldn't even try. *sigh*] and apparently really hard to come by unless you happen to make a pit stop at kroger's and get corralled by little brown-vested girls all over the place. with their mother calmly sitting and supervising from behind the cookie display table. anyhoo. but yeah, i remember when someone used to sell them at church (i forget who and when, but all i know is that she doesn't do it anymore, how tragic), and i think maybe someone even used to come door-to-door? and now, not so much. luckily, my asl teacher's daughter is in the cookie corp. (er, i mean, the girl scouts-- really though, what else do the girl scouts do besides sell cookies? i know that boy scouts sell popcorn, but they graduate to eagle scouts and have to do this project and learn nifty things like how to tie twenty gazillion different types of knots...what do girl scouts do?) so she brought the order form to class a couple times. yay for shortbread and peanut butter cookies, and then i bought one of their new-and only-good-for-this-year-because-we're-not-selling-them-next-year cookies, thanks-a-lot. the concept is just round shortbread with one side dipped in fudge and the other side baked/molded "thank you" in one of five different languages. cute, huh? let's see, merci, asanti, gracias, thank you, and hsieh hsieh. guess the languages. =D
hmm, can you tell that this was written over the span of a few days? (=
in other news, i've succumbed to the blinketyblinkblinkness of the cellular world. not cellular as in the biological sense, but more like in the aiya-the-radiation-from-the-antenna-will-kill-you-!!!!! sort of deal. whoop whoop. (= so i've been having mass fun putting in just about every telephone number known to man (ok, not really, since the phone only holds 500 contacts but still, a lot of thumb-flexing has occured) into my lovely little samsung a630. (= dood, the part i love is dancing around to the ringtones. =D and apparently, i can set a ringtone for specific people and i have a speakerphone option and and and...i'm realizing that you all have cellphones and know this already. ok, i'll shush about the phone. =X