The Endless Possibilities

The problem with decision making is you never know what is right until you do it, but then its usually too late to go back and retrace your steps if your wrong. I often wonder “what if”, or do the “should of, would of, could of” dance. I panic about my future, its one of my biggest downfalls. I worry, analyze stress and make myself ill with the thoughts of possibilities. There are times were I wish God would place a map in front of me and say this is where you need to go and this is how you get there, but He doesn’t do that.

There is so much I want to accomplish. My ambition and my fear are at a constant battle with one another, and as much as I hate to admit this, the truth is my fear typically wins. It’s either that or my spirit v. conscience, as they battle for what possible and what is probable. Again my conscience typically wins, and my spirit whines about it later.

But as I am headed into my final year of undergraduate college education, and possibly my last year of formal education, I am panic-stricken. This is my last year in a place I have come to understand and tolerate. I can function at school, it’s familiar, predictable and usually consistent. I know how to get by with a minimal 3.5 G.P.A., I know my professors, I know the students. And as claustrophobic as the small campus with so many recognizable faces makes me feel, I have learned to appreciate it and wish I had more time to do a few things differently.

Regardless, at the end of this year I will have my B.A. in journalism, my apartment lease will be up and I will be ready for something new and anxious to get away from this rural air and back into the city lights.

In the past, I have waited for life to fall into place. For things to figure themselves out and let deadlines slip past as fear ties me down from chasing what I truly want. I need to kick the habit of procrastination, but I also don’t want to force myself into having to understand my future, I am struggling with the present enough as is.

I was online, and something with the J.R.R. Tolkien quote popped up, “Not all those who wander are lost.” I believe in signs and thought that life was speaking to me, and realized just because I am absolutely clueless about this journey I am on doesn’t mean I am lost. Just because I don’t know where I am going doesn’t mean I won’t go somewhere. Just because I don’t know what I will be doesn’t mean I won’t be something great.

So I am starting now, The unnerving plunge into the next phase, looking for any opportunity and any change. I refuse to not put myself out there and find the best possibilities, but I also refuse to predict where I will go next. God may not draw a map out for me, but He’ll place me in the middle of one and help me get there (I hope).

Sleepless in Yamhill County

The drunk people outside are finally silent. I brushed my teeth. I took a shower. I said my prayers, but can’t get a wink. I hate this. These nights of emptiness.

I tried to have a good cry, you know those ones that aren't drastic and just make you feel better, but I had to force a single tear. That's unusual for me.

Life is really bizarre. My summer is going much better than I expected and this week actually was positive and happy. I love my apartment, my jobs are good and people I like are actually in town. I haven’t even got bogged down with college town depression that usually hits when I am here for a week, and I have not had time to be bored or lonely. There was even a few glimpses of sunshine!

But for some reason, life is scaring and exhausting me.

I feel like God hit the pause button on my life. I have all these great visions and ideas, but cannot piece them together to make them a reality. They are just there in broken parts unable to be shaped or molded into anything relevant.

Then there is this whole cycle of life situation occurring right before my eyes. My sister-in-law is due with my baby niece any day now, while my grandpa is quickly deteriorating. It’s spooky how it feels like the two are occurring in sequence.

There is also a list of things I wish I could just tell people. Some of them are minor, but other subjects are weighing heavy on my heart and I wish I could just spit them out and say how I feel. Maybe nothing would come of it, but it would make me feel better.

I also recently have been able to point out every single one of my flaws, which has been exhausting. It hasn’t been a self-cautious, insecurity type of a thing. It’s a “these are characteristics about myself I may or may not like, but are a part of me” type of a thing. Some of them I could fix, others I am stuck with. For some reason they are all obvious to me this week.

Regardless, I am worn out and yet completely restless. My body is in my cozy haven of fluff, but I can’t drift into a sleep. My brain is thinking about a billion different things, the fact that I could get a phone call any second telling me a loved one is dead or Gracie is born; my frustration about not yet writing a novel, winning a Pulitzer, or appearing on Ellen DeGeneres (I really would love to be on her show before she pulls an Oprah); my feelings/opinion for and about people; and that my list of flaws could potentially outdo the material in the National Archives.

I guess I’ll try to count sheep…

P.S. It’s 2 a.m., so grammar may be poor. Sorry!

Minor complaints

I just have some thing I'd like to whine about.

1) My towel rack is still broken! No sign of the maintenance man anywhere and he promised me a peephole. It's been two weeks and he clearly did not put my needs on his to-do list.

2) My kitchen light thinks its fun to pretend its a night light when its dark in my apartment. One of the bulbs flashes every 8 seconds with an obnoxiously bright white light. So I went back to using my chandelier nightlight that illuminates my whole kitchen, only a notch less obnoxious.

3) The people at the pub are getting rowdier earlier. There is constant clouds of cigarette smoke and loud banter incomprehensible banter directly outside my window. Luckily, it lasts all night long.

4) My neighbors are dead.

Ready for love?

Some say it hits you, and it happens right then and there. For others, it takes years of friendship to grow into something more. Few never find it, and live their lives looking for the perfect one. There are people who love many in a lifetime, and some find one true love on the first try without any doubt and few errors.

I don’t know how it is supposed to happen. And I have lived enough in life to know, what people say its supposed to be like isn’t how it always is.

I have yet to have a true first love, and I am at that point in my life where I don’t want to let someone in unless they could be my last. You see, I was never a fan of the go to college and get married as soon as possible ideal, which many of my peers have gotten locked into and my Christian university strongly emphasizes. I value the modern standards of obtaining an education, settling where my heart feels right and then when love comes around, I will make it work. At the same time, I am eager to go down that path with someone, and start an adventure that will last forever.

My past relationships were insufficient. It may not due the word “relationship” justice to even call them that. I was young, naïve and vulnerable, so I dated a dictator. A boy who made me feel unworthy, and cut the ties to those I loved. Choosing him was my biggest regret. Years later, afraid of not fitting in with my new surroundings, I dated the first person available.

It was out of fear mostly, that I used the word “love”. Fear of losing someone, even if they cared so little about my well being. They both had their own versions of their future, my future and our futures together. My dreams evaporated as I let theirs take over. In the latter relationship, I caught on quicker, but still I was left because I was scared to leave.

Then there was the friend, whom I wanted to date for years. And in my mind, I think we did at times have something more than a friendship. However he would always leave, When the conversation got too deep or another girl came along, he was gone in a blink. But He always came back, and something about him kept me captivated—his edge, his demeanor. He came across one way, but I knew he was deeper than the superficial tattoos and bad reputation. My family was willing to make exceptions for him, nothing drastic, but they accepted him.

It was a barely flirty text message that sent him through the door for the last time, or so I think. Probably for the best, my ambition too great to settle where he will, but regardless I cared more for him than anyone before.

There were those others in between. The ones who led me by a string and vice versa. Those who called when they were bored and in need of some attention. Those who never even offered me dinner or introduced me to their family and friends. Those who forgot to open the door, but made sure to steal a kiss. All out of convenience, and nothing out of love.

I find myself, at the age of 21 and on my own, scared to discover this thing I desire. Scared to know what love’s possibilities are. I do not want to settle on something that could not last, but do not know how to determine what will. How do you find something that doesn’t dissolve into nothing? And how can two imperfect people come into each others lives and love unconditionally?

I have seen it happen; my parents, grandparents, even my own friends have fallen in love and couldn’t be happier with their soul mate. I want that, the imperfect love in life. I want someone to walk alongside me in all the trials and errors, celebrations and challenges of this reality.

I need someone who cares for me always, even at my worst. Someone who sees through the bubbly exterior, the hopeful young girl, the stressed out studier, and unconventional introvert. I want somebody who gets my idiosyncrasies, anxieties, contradictions, philosophies, and frustrations. A man that makes me feel beautiful and unique, and gives me strength when I need it.

People set up these expectations of who you will love, and when it will come. I don’t know what love is, or how it will find me (maybe it's already started to). All I know is that I am ready to start falling, so whose going to catch me?

Centipede and Coffee Makers

Week One

First week in my big girl apartment. Monday I took off work because Josh Kinney, one of my favorite people I met in DC, came to Portland. It was a good day, one of the few days Portland has been sunny, filled with bird seed, Voodoo donuts, Powells’ books, and reminiscing my DC days that I have been terribly missing.

Tuesday, I finally brought clothes, silverware, my coffeemaker, microwave, and Bobo (my stuffed animal) down to my apartment. Minus the pictures that still remain on my floor and the extension cords I need to untangle, my apartment has become home.

My first night I headed to bed early not hearing a sound from the surrounding apartments. I hadn’t seen anyone during my whole moving travels, with the exception of one lady, who seemed scared of my mom and I running up and introducing ourselves. I assumed everyone else was dead, however around midnight I heard the jangling of keys and opening of doors. So there is a possibility my neighbors are vampires. I am still trying to figure it out.

The following morning I woke up at 5:30 because of the insane amount of light coming through my sky lights. I fell back asleep and then woke up to my alarm and the loud clanging of rain drops against the sky lights.

I roll out of bed to use my brand new big girl coffee maker. In DC, I used to make my roommates make me coffee and never bothered with the threatening machine. I usually overflowed it or burnt the coffee. But the best way for me to learn is just to figure it out myself. I pull out my measuring spoons to follow the chart listed in my coffee maker pamphlet, only to find that my measuring spoons are mislabeled. Both the teaspoon and tablespoon were labeled “teaspoon”. I figured it out, but really? And early in the morning without coffee it seemed even more confusing. Regardless, I didn’t overflow it or burn it.

Then I went into my bathroom to do my make-up. I open my cabinet were I store my make-up on the shelf and see something in my bathtub out of the corner of my eye. I figured it was fuzz from sweatpants that got blown into the tub somehow, or possibly dirt had managed to crawl its way from the sky light into my tub. It was neither, in fact what it was gave me goose bumps. It was a bug with 100 legs, a living and crawling centipede.

I called my mom, “How do you kill a centipede? This has got to be a joke.”

She laughed at me and gave me advice. “Grab a plastic bag, squish it with paper towel. You could use a shoe.”

I grab all three, get off the phone to regain my focus. I held my breathe contemplating what to do next. Should I smoosh or squish? Where is my knight in shining armor when I need him? And why the hell is there a freaking centipede in my bathtub, my sanctuary of cleanliness? This better not be a common occurrence.

I prayed. I had no idea what else to do, but after discussing it with God, I remembered that he made humans superior to all creatures on earth. This 100-leg creepy crawly, was much smaller than me. I asked for strength held my breath and grabbed the paper towel, I didn’t want centipede smashed on my shoe, and killed the sucker tied it and a plastic bag and showed it who was boss. I felt kind of bad, but hopefully its brothers, sisters, cousins and all other forms of creepily crawly creatures take a hint.

The rest of the week was uneventful and I developed a cold right before memorial weekend. Fun!

Living alone lesson 1 & 2: 1) I cannot rely on measuring spoons to get me through my coffee routine. 2) I will have to be able to kill all forms of creatures, including ones with 100 legs.

I also learned I should never try to vlog. It makes me look stupid see example below, for your entertainment.

Night 1 and a half

---This is a really short, slightly pointless post, but I am tired and have to work in the morning. So I will write more later. But I needed to document part of my first(ish) night here.---

I am all moved in to my big girl apartment and starting my internship tomorrow in the morning. I stayed one night here last Wednesday after having an awesome girls night with my friends. That night was kind of depressing though because my fridge and closets were empty and I left behind my stuffed bunny, Bobo, and Silky, my little satin pillow. However, I realized how awesome it is to have my own big girl fort of an apartment.

Anyway, now I have clothes and some food in the fridge. I brought Bobo, but left behind Bruce the Beta. He is probably devastated, but I am going home this weekend and I don’t know how many car rides to put a poor fish through in three days time.

So, I am sitting in my apartment on my comfy chair all clean listening to the cars speed by on the highway and watching Tinkerbell. I may be grown up and in my own place, but regardless I will always be a little kid. This is my new castle, exactly as Josh Kinney named it on foursquare.

So here goes my first few nights on my own with my coffee maker and Bobo.

The Final Chapter

And so it begins. After just finishing an amazing semester in Washington D.C. I start another chapter of my college career—the final year. An end of a journey that has been fun, depressing, challenging and changing.

At the end of my high school career, I panicked about going off to college. Uneager to change location and worried about being away from my family, I was uninterested in looking at colleges. I had an untraditional high school experience, I transferred my junior year from public to private school. I never found a real belonging other than at home, and I didn’t know where to go.

I had talked New York, Massachusetts and other states out east, but I was not ready to leave my home state. I always had talked big adventures, but I was scared and nervous to take any leaps. So I ended up less than a half hour away at George Fox University.

It seemed promising at first. The sold it to me, “We have lots of events. Everyone is really nice. So many ways to get involved. So many things to do close by.” Not quite the way I would describe it, but that’s OK. It was perfect for the time being.

I learned a lot at Fox. I met some people who have inspired me, and we have had some priceless moments that I would never exchange for another experience. I was challenged academically and spiritually. But most importantly, I eventually grew the courage to venture out of Oregon alone.

A few weeks ago I returned from the most amazing semester in Washington D.C. It changed me. It opened my ways to another part of the country, to different people, and to new things. I met people with the same aspirations as me and everything that felt so scary became easy. And my goals that seemed impossible became real. I studied at the Washington Journalism Center. I did school, interned and explored.

City life became my dream. I felt at home, and I hope to return after this final stretch of my undergraduate career. It was completely different than anything I had known, but it was comfortable.

I also got to experience life as a reporter, and grew from that experience. I learned more about the journalism field than ever. Fox just started their program at the beginning of my sophomore year. D.C. gave me the opportunity to practice and test to see if journalism is what I really want to pursue. Despite the challenges and frustrations I faced, there is nothing I want more than to be a journalist.

After all the great things I experienced in D.C., coming back to Newberg didn’t have much appeal. I missed my family, friends and the Pacific Northwest, but my heart had begun to move on. I grew up, and was figuring things out I didn’t even know I had questions to.

I did leave D.C. half-heartbroken and part relieved to have survived my time there. Inspired from my experience, I have returned to continue to grow from what I learned. Now I just have one summer, one year of undergraduate college, and one more last hooray in the small rural town of Newberg, Oregon.

I have my tiny vintage apartment. I have a summer job doing administrative work at a campus office and an internship with the Newberg Graphic. This is the ending of one chapter and a beginning of another…