just because i love lobster....

doesnt mean i want it everyday for dinner.
* * *
and ive been busy trying to round out my wardrobe. i have been missing a few key elements, so ive been trying to fix that. like i need professional things. o dear. and i bought a perfectly wonderful little black dress finallyfinally. ive been looking for a while, but the one i had my eye on all summer was like a million dollars, and even though it would have looked like a million dollars, i just didnt have the pocket change. but i think i found one that will suffice and be wonderful, and was within the price range [sometimes, though you have to dispense with formally strict dress code for special things. but i dont feel that bad about it.]. so. yes. i am pleased. and i was pleased that when i was thinking of things for making my resume, it wasnt totally empty like i thought it was going to be. its a big relief, and i dont feel quite so hopeless and lost about the future. hopless and lost still, yes. but not quite so much, because i will have slightly more than a blank sheet of paper. now i will have a blank sheet of paper and some ink to give them. its amazing what can make things better. we have decided that five things are practically guarenteed fixers: boys who can dance, or who arent stupid, chocolate, prayer, a really great new pair of shoes, or dress or whatever, and bestest friends. with these things, you can hardly go wrong. and there have been plenty of [most of] the above lately.
* * *
how funny it is to feel yourself learning lessons. there are so many of them, after all. practically every minute you think of, or are reminded of, something else that needs to be learned or changed or remembered or fixed about yourself and other people and life. and the you remember how much of everything that you are incapable of and you feel like a mess. you are too much of the bad stuff and not nearly one smidgin enough of everything good. and you feel that all the things that you think of should be creepingcreeping down through your heart and into your toes and that change should come all over you, like after you drink something warm, and you can feel it going down all through everywhere. but its not quite like that: one minute is good and you think that you will change and be better, and then the next is grossgrossgross and then you want to just give up, and sit down in the middle of the floor like a 2 year old who smushed her finger and pout. but then He comes along and says well stand up little one, and pulls you up by your fingers, wipes your nose, pats your bottom to get you going again, and sticks in your hand one of those nasty little ring-shaped butter cookies. who even likes those things? well, its not a chocolate chip cookie, thats for sure. so you complain, but He says that it will still be better than sitting in the middle of the floor with nothing at all dont you think? and he gives us a bandaid for our hurt fingers. and they dont make the hurt go away, but somehow it still helps very muchly. and how comforting it is to remember that He is eversomuch more than enough for me. even when i seem to be a sprawled out mess [and i feel like 939848 pounds of walking disaster,] he can encompass that in one second, and have plenty of His grace leftover for tomorrow and the next day and the next day.
* * *
osomany smushed finger moments lately. and i have learned. im not sure what, yet. because it seems like its still sinking all down, but i have. and i have prayed and laughed [!] and danced [!!!]. we are good dancers over here, let me tell you. and ive said it before, but when i grow up, im making it a point to take dancing lessons. all kinds. irish, and salsa and swing and ballet and ballroom, and tango and jitterbug and ghetto and everything. i want to be good at it. that is a life goal. and i dont need to like do competitions or recitals or whatever, but i want to be good, because ive been remembering how much i love it. i make such a horrible baptist person. but i guess it doesnt matter because i think im almost done with the southern baptist way of doing most things. [if you disagree and want details, i can give them to you. my theologys still sound and everything] God is bigger than we give him credit for, i think, in the way we approcah nearly everything. He is also more creative and smarter and cooler and graceful-er and more than all of our whatever. im tired of churches who forget that and doubly thankful for those that do. and im muchly more aware and frusturated with myself when i forget, because i do forget. remind me. i guess the only thing i do, in fact, miss a good deal is potlucks. i dont other denominations quite grasp the concept of a potluck supper. they just arent as good as i remember them being as when we attended the southern baptist church. i was reminded of such the other day at the library reading thing, and 1) the whole room was full of old women who were like in love with the writing of this author, and he was so funny. and he obviously had a high regard for them too, and they just loved it. but 2) there was the snack table and there were 18--eighteen!--bundt cakes. why? why would the ladies have 18 bundt cakes?! i have no idea. it was very perplexing, im still perplexed to this day. and then i was thinking that there was a plot like in arsenic and old lace where the old ladies were trying to poison us all. i thought it was a highly likely possibility and so i resolved to not eat any bundt cake. instead i nibbled off of the one plate of chocolate covered pretzels. but i dont even know why they were allowed in there, because of someone might eat them instead of bundt cake and not get poisoned. it worked against the effectiveness of the overall plot, i think. oh! right. but there was this line in one of the best movies ever "so you think: hell with it. life goes on. and maybe there wont be marriage, and maybe there wont even be sex. but by God, there will be dancing." and that is a point, i think.
* * *
when the author was here, he read my stuff. and he didnt hate it. and he told me how to make it better. thank heavens i can take criticism, especially about my own work. i am muchly relieved about that. and i have a lot of work to do, but it will be good.

[thats like me]
* * *
this is me. and this is me growing a spine. and trying to say what i need to say. and getting my heart broken over things that deserve its brokeness and thats all and then move through and on from that to a bigger ability to love. im trying not to be inhibited by things that would usually do so [like mistakes--learn from them instead of wishing them back or away.] and i have a hard time understanding what is reallyreally worth my time, love, effort, tears, and devotion and entanglement--but then again--what or who isnt worth it? im not sure we have reason to stop loving, or give up, just because it might be messy. but we have to take care of ourselves, too. and thats where we just deposit ourselves in His capable hands. i am a mostly firm believer in less is more. and i will choose to wait for more which means having less now, and i will choose to believe that that is more than ok. of course, the major question is how? and i have no idea. but i dont think i have to. i just have to take things one second at a time. [o, but how long seconds are sometimes. sometimes i put something in the microwave for 10 or 12 seconds and i can do like 3 things in that time, like get a cup out, and the milk from the fridge and put a knife in the sink or something. i would have thought that all of those actions took longer than 10 seconds by themselves. its surprises me every time without fail.] and in the meantime, i will eat more chocolate icecream and pizza and watch more movies and blow up more balloons, and look up more, and listen to more music [thank heavens for music.] and study more and write more. when you find me again, i will be more than when you left me. i have decided that thing. the principle is even good with jewlery. i just have to leave some of these things behind. too much bling isnt good for a girl; one less braclet isnt going to hurt me one bit. [ill just wear some phenominal earrings to make up for it. or shoes. a girl can never have too many shoes.]
* * *
currently playing: week 6: the music [this is the music of my life, and its good.]

Posted 10/9/2005 9:15 PM