Flying - adjective: floating, fluttering, waving, hanging, or moving freely in the air
Today my boyfriend texted me and said he wants a flying car. I just sat there staring at my phone, laughing to myself, and trying to come up with a suitably witty response. After a few minutes and no creative thoughts I texted him back: I want a million dollars. Let's see who gets it first :)
Of course being the competitive male that he is he said he was totally up for a race. I responded in kind with well you're on. But seriously why do you want a flying car. To which he answered -- who wouldn't want a flying car?
Some days I wish I could be a little kid again. When my imagination made the world my playground. I was a princess presiding over her kingdom of stuffed animals, a pioneer girl on the prairie in my backyard or a schoolteacher lording my authority over my students, um I mean siblings. I guess these days I think it's silly to wish for the impossible. Somewhere along the way I forgot to hope for the extraordinary to happen in my life.
Thank goodness for that silly boy I have in my life who reminds me, you are never to old to want a flying car.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Hunting Jobs
Hunt - verb: to make a search or quest
Had anyone let me in on the secret that finding a job was this stress inducing, I do believe I would have flat out refused to graduate. Give me back those late night cram sessions before an exam, piles of homework assignments and lengthy chapters of reading from sometimes very dull textbooks. Yes I know. It seems rather odd to wish all that on oneself but there are days I do. I have always loved school. So much to learn and all that information to soak up. There are so many different choices of topics to study and new subjects to explore. I think that may be part of the reason finding a job is proving to be so difficult. I don't want to settle on any one area. I want to be able to pick and choose. To try something for awhile and see if it sparks my interest. But in today's world that is not an option. Especially with the economy the way it is. So I am stuck trying to find that job out there somewhere with my name on it. I just wish it would stop hiding and show itself. There is a reason someone came up with the phrase 'hunting for a job'. It is oh so true. They scurry around trying to make themselves scarce and you wear yourself out chasing them. Maybe if I just stay still for awhile a really good one will come my way...
Monday, March 28, 2011
Simple Thoughts: Books
There aren't too many things I enjoy in this whole wide world more than a good book. I am actually talking about a solid object made with ink and paper. Bound with a cover. Something with a little weight and heft to it. There is this magical quality about the feel of a book in one's hands. Or the smell of bookstore that moment you step inside. Maybe that's just the little coffee shop I'm thinking of but still, nothing quite compares to a place that is filled with the knowledge, adventures and experiences contained in the pages of the written word.
Growing up one of my absolute favorite places to spend the afternoon was the library. I would lose myself in the world spun by each word the author carefully crafted. In my mind I was one of the boxcar children afraid of their Grandpa who actually loved them, I had a photographic memory like Cam Janson and I solved mysteries with Encyclopedia Brown. My mom used to call me to set the table three or four times before walking into the living room, only to find me so engrossed in my epic adventure that I was lost to this reality.
As I have gotten older I still love the escape that the written word provides. But as with all things time has changed me. Now I no longer expect there to be a happy ending. I see books through the lens of my life experience instead of the wonder of a child. I find myself analyzing the characters and their reactions to challenges in a decidedly grown up way. That being said there must be some of that kid in me still; even now there is still that one storyline or person I find myself identifying with and rooting for whatever it may be I am currently reading.
There is nothing quite like really good writing. It still feels like Christmas morning every time I find an author that can bring me to tears over the emotion hidden in the pages of their work. They are few and far between. But those few gems that I do find I want to collect and tuck away.
So today I ask you. What treasures of literature have you stumbled across?
Growing up one of my absolute favorite places to spend the afternoon was the library. I would lose myself in the world spun by each word the author carefully crafted. In my mind I was one of the boxcar children afraid of their Grandpa who actually loved them, I had a photographic memory like Cam Janson and I solved mysteries with Encyclopedia Brown. My mom used to call me to set the table three or four times before walking into the living room, only to find me so engrossed in my epic adventure that I was lost to this reality.
As I have gotten older I still love the escape that the written word provides. But as with all things time has changed me. Now I no longer expect there to be a happy ending. I see books through the lens of my life experience instead of the wonder of a child. I find myself analyzing the characters and their reactions to challenges in a decidedly grown up way. That being said there must be some of that kid in me still; even now there is still that one storyline or person I find myself identifying with and rooting for whatever it may be I am currently reading.
There is nothing quite like really good writing. It still feels like Christmas morning every time I find an author that can bring me to tears over the emotion hidden in the pages of their work. They are few and far between. But those few gems that I do find I want to collect and tuck away.
So today I ask you. What treasures of literature have you stumbled across?
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Celebrating Moms
Mother - noun: a female parent.
As far as mothers go, I do believe I have the best one. My mom is my hero. After two weeks of trying to play house, dishes, laundry, cleaning, making dinner and trying not to ruin it. I have come to realize that my mother deserves to be worshiped. I do not know how she managed three rambunctious children, a husband, homeschooling, a household and still kept her sanity. I thought I was literally going to throw in the towel trying to cook dinner for my boyfriend. I love that along the way my relationship with my mom has developed from a parent/child dynamic to a mother/daughter friendship based on love and mutual respect. As I have worked through this stage of life where I am dipping my toes into this whole grown up world, my mom has been there every step of the way. Not hovering but a reassuring presence that knows me better than just about anyone. She should. She raised me. So much of who I am today has come from the influence of my mother's dedication to our family. I want to take this opportunity to say thank you. Thank you Mom. For the lasting impact you have made on my life.
As far as mothers go, I do believe I have the best one. My mom is my hero. After two weeks of trying to play house, dishes, laundry, cleaning, making dinner and trying not to ruin it. I have come to realize that my mother deserves to be worshiped. I do not know how she managed three rambunctious children, a husband, homeschooling, a household and still kept her sanity. I thought I was literally going to throw in the towel trying to cook dinner for my boyfriend. I love that along the way my relationship with my mom has developed from a parent/child dynamic to a mother/daughter friendship based on love and mutual respect. As I have worked through this stage of life where I am dipping my toes into this whole grown up world, my mom has been there every step of the way. Not hovering but a reassuring presence that knows me better than just about anyone. She should. She raised me. So much of who I am today has come from the influence of my mother's dedication to our family. I want to take this opportunity to say thank you. Thank you Mom. For the lasting impact you have made on my life.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Simple Thoughts: Wanderlust
Today I want to run away. I want to replay that scene in Yes Man where the two main characters go to the airport and ask for tickets on the next flight out. I want to see the world. Every time I watch a movie, read a book or listen to someone tell a story I just want to have that experience. I want to see the world.
Some days I just want to pack up the car and drive. Drive until I run out of gas and see where it gets me. Who are the people I will meet along the way? What kinds of crazy stories will this adventure gain me? But this happens to be the moment in my dreaming when my practical self points out to my wishing self that it's not going to work. So I go back to watching those movies, reading that book and listening to other people's adventures. All the while with that voice in the back of my head still whispering, One day. You'll see. It can happen.
Some days I just want to pack up the car and drive. Drive until I run out of gas and see where it gets me. Who are the people I will meet along the way? What kinds of crazy stories will this adventure gain me? But this happens to be the moment in my dreaming when my practical self points out to my wishing self that it's not going to work. So I go back to watching those movies, reading that book and listening to other people's adventures. All the while with that voice in the back of my head still whispering, One day. You'll see. It can happen.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Saying Nothing
Nothing - noun, 1. no thing; not anything; naught 2. no part, share or trace 3. something that is nonexistent.
I can say honestly that I have been dealt a very nice hand in life. A family that loves me, a good education and by most definitions a path pretty similar to the American dream. But in what equation do those things add up to happiness. Well not mine evidently. I think the worst struggle a girl will ever face in her life is feeling unwanted. There is no end to the lengths we as females will go to in order to achieve that ever elusive status, of proudly wearing the badge of someone who is wanted. It boils down to our desire to be loved. But we just don't want love. Oh no. We want the people in our life to prove it. And the way we measure their love is how much they show they want us. It sounds silly to say we keep score but come on lets admit it ladies. We do. We want our girlfriends to choose us as their maid of honor, we want our parents to be more proud of us than our siblings, and most of all we want our significant other to sacrifice something they want as a token of how much they will do for us, how much they want us.
But these are all internal desires. Something we would never voice out loud. Unless maybe in the quiet stillness after the lights are turned out and our best friend is listening half asleep. Why is it so hard to just say what is on one's mind? Instead of playing games and second guessing. In those quiet moments when my thoughts are just screaming at me inside my head, I choose to say... nothing. Not a word. It's as if uttering just one word of the chaos inside me will unleash a storm on the house of cards I've tried so hard to protect. In those moments when all I want to say is show me you love me. Something holds me back. Is it the fear that the answer will be something I know but am desperately trying to avoid. Maybe so. But is that enough reason to say nothing.
I can say honestly that I have been dealt a very nice hand in life. A family that loves me, a good education and by most definitions a path pretty similar to the American dream. But in what equation do those things add up to happiness. Well not mine evidently. I think the worst struggle a girl will ever face in her life is feeling unwanted. There is no end to the lengths we as females will go to in order to achieve that ever elusive status, of proudly wearing the badge of someone who is wanted. It boils down to our desire to be loved. But we just don't want love. Oh no. We want the people in our life to prove it. And the way we measure their love is how much they show they want us. It sounds silly to say we keep score but come on lets admit it ladies. We do. We want our girlfriends to choose us as their maid of honor, we want our parents to be more proud of us than our siblings, and most of all we want our significant other to sacrifice something they want as a token of how much they will do for us, how much they want us.
But these are all internal desires. Something we would never voice out loud. Unless maybe in the quiet stillness after the lights are turned out and our best friend is listening half asleep. Why is it so hard to just say what is on one's mind? Instead of playing games and second guessing. In those quiet moments when my thoughts are just screaming at me inside my head, I choose to say... nothing. Not a word. It's as if uttering just one word of the chaos inside me will unleash a storm on the house of cards I've tried so hard to protect. In those moments when all I want to say is show me you love me. Something holds me back. Is it the fear that the answer will be something I know but am desperately trying to avoid. Maybe so. But is that enough reason to say nothing.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Growing Up
Grown Up, adjective: 1. having reached the age of maturity.
2. characteristic of or suitable for adults.
When I was a little girl all I could think about was when I would be big enough. Big enough to ride a bike. Big enough to go to a sleep over. When I was a teenager all I could think about was when I would be old enough. To watch a PG 13 movie, which by the way did not occur until I was at least 16. Old enough to drive. To be allowed to stay out late. To finally be able to leave this small town behind and do something normal for once like go away to college. When I was in college all I wanted was to know when I would get some answers. The answer to what was my major going to be. What was I going to do with my life. When would I finally find the right guy.
Now I'm a college graduate. All I want to know is when will I be a grown up. I've gone through all the right steps. I was a good kid, I listened to my parents in high school, and seriously who does that, I was a good student in college, I have always been responsible and well mannered. But does all of that really add up to grown up status. For most of the things I've looked forward to in my life there are definite points I can say, well that goal was accomplished. The concept of being a grown up just seems to elusive. I keep waiting for that Aha moment when I will just know this is it but so far no luck with that approach. It is not easy being in an in-between state. That step, from our sheltered world of taking orders and having our lives directed to suddenly being the one behind the wheel with no wing man, can feel like a leap. And some days I just feel like I'm falling.
2. characteristic of or suitable for adults.
When I was a little girl all I could think about was when I would be big enough. Big enough to ride a bike. Big enough to go to a sleep over. When I was a teenager all I could think about was when I would be old enough. To watch a PG 13 movie, which by the way did not occur until I was at least 16. Old enough to drive. To be allowed to stay out late. To finally be able to leave this small town behind and do something normal for once like go away to college. When I was in college all I wanted was to know when I would get some answers. The answer to what was my major going to be. What was I going to do with my life. When would I finally find the right guy.
Now I'm a college graduate. All I want to know is when will I be a grown up. I've gone through all the right steps. I was a good kid, I listened to my parents in high school, and seriously who does that, I was a good student in college, I have always been responsible and well mannered. But does all of that really add up to grown up status. For most of the things I've looked forward to in my life there are definite points I can say, well that goal was accomplished. The concept of being a grown up just seems to elusive. I keep waiting for that Aha moment when I will just know this is it but so far no luck with that approach. It is not easy being in an in-between state. That step, from our sheltered world of taking orders and having our lives directed to suddenly being the one behind the wheel with no wing man, can feel like a leap. And some days I just feel like I'm falling.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Telling Stories
Story, an account or recital of an event or series of events, either true or fictitious.
On any given day we tell more stories than we can count. From talking about the person that cuts us off on our drive to work, to recounting how we accidentally pocket dialed an emergency number, we are always telling stories. More often than not we embellish and add flair because of course what's the fun if the story doesn't have a little adventure and suspense. For some people telling a story is a way of being the center of attention, for others it might be a way of expressing their creativity, and for others, myself included it is a way of storing those little moments in time that we would like to hold onto forever. It is a way of saving memories. Memories are the moments we treasure and stories are the way we share. This is my story. This is where it all begins.
When my friends and I get together we do very little in the way of being productive. There is Dave, the ring leader. He always comes up with the great ideas. And usually MC's all of our arguments, well let's call them what they are - friendly discussions. Then there's Carl. The get up and do guy. He can't sit still for long and tries to motivate everyone else to pick an activity but most of the time he's not very successful. Because we have our serial indecisive duo, my two best friends, who just happen to be polar opposites yet so much alike. On the one hand we have Rachel, a girl who has had a lifelong love affair with pink, likes comfy slippers and heels a contradiction in itself and is most happy with a cup of tea and her knitting. And we have Holly, the girl who wanted to make snow angels with the boys in the dead of winter, is surgically attached to a soccer ball and cannot function without a blood coffee level of anything less than .08 on an okay day. Then there is me, Emily. The one with a mothering personality who tries to keep everyone grounded when let's be honest most days I don't have it all together myself. These are the people I love and without them I would not have the stories I do.
On any given day we tell more stories than we can count. From talking about the person that cuts us off on our drive to work, to recounting how we accidentally pocket dialed an emergency number, we are always telling stories. More often than not we embellish and add flair because of course what's the fun if the story doesn't have a little adventure and suspense. For some people telling a story is a way of being the center of attention, for others it might be a way of expressing their creativity, and for others, myself included it is a way of storing those little moments in time that we would like to hold onto forever. It is a way of saving memories. Memories are the moments we treasure and stories are the way we share. This is my story. This is where it all begins.
When my friends and I get together we do very little in the way of being productive. There is Dave, the ring leader. He always comes up with the great ideas. And usually MC's all of our arguments, well let's call them what they are - friendly discussions. Then there's Carl. The get up and do guy. He can't sit still for long and tries to motivate everyone else to pick an activity but most of the time he's not very successful. Because we have our serial indecisive duo, my two best friends, who just happen to be polar opposites yet so much alike. On the one hand we have Rachel, a girl who has had a lifelong love affair with pink, likes comfy slippers and heels a contradiction in itself and is most happy with a cup of tea and her knitting. And we have Holly, the girl who wanted to make snow angels with the boys in the dead of winter, is surgically attached to a soccer ball and cannot function without a blood coffee level of anything less than .08 on an okay day. Then there is me, Emily. The one with a mothering personality who tries to keep everyone grounded when let's be honest most days I don't have it all together myself. These are the people I love and without them I would not have the stories I do.
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