You'll Kill Yourself to Find Anything at All

This has been quite the week. Making a list just sounds pitiful, so instead I will go to a hiding place.

I love those moments of being silent in the midst of nothing. It is different from the silence of an empty room or everyone around me falling silent; there is something infinitely altered from that state, simplified even, to be away from everything else and to just be with Him. Standing on the side of a mountain in the darkness, staring out across miles of city lights until they meet water and mountains and sky; sitting on the beach, day cloudy and ocean stormy, seeing nothing but countless numbers of palette-blended gray; walking to breakfast through the mist, sun rising over the bog, being immersed in crisp, sparkling softness; a dim, hot beach in Mexico where He is the only One for thousands of miles. God is in the empty room and in the midst of words left unsaid, but it is in the times of nothing when it is just Him and I that I feel we are most connected.

This week has been beyond difficult, and Easier is not yet on the horizon. But He is. And He is watching from miles away and from the seat next to me and from the depths inside my heart. Wonderful, glorious realization.

I'll Drive All the Way to California

Millions of thoughts running through my head. Here's a brief summation:

• I want a new car. Desperately. I need to drive and drive and drive. When I leave driving too long, it drives me up the wall and I forget that I know how and I become paranoid and begin to doubt my skills. Which I obviously have. I don't just want to drive anywhere, I want to go somewhere hot and somewhat exotic and far away. It's becoming a need. I need a new car so I can do these things.
• I miss California. I did not want to go for reading break, but now I miss it. I drove down twice in '06, and once in '09 and '10 respectively. I miss it. I miss the smell and the ocean and the stretch of the I5 between kill-me-now-nowhere, California, and Los Angeles. I miss the winding highway between kill-me-now-hotness, Nevada, and TGI-In-n-Out-Burger in Redding. I miss shorts and a bikini at 90 mph.
• I am burning to do something significant with my life. For God. Now. Yet here I sit in school, unable to emerge until I have my degree, and I feel trapped. I want the knowledge, I love to learn; more than that, I want to make a dent. I have done too little for too long. I feel useless.
• Seven. Final offer.
• I would like to start doing one thrilling thing a week. If I do, life will have landmarks and I may just smile more. I love smiling, and I love being thrilled out of my mind. This is a must.
• I despise intensives and everything they stand for and pretend to accomplish. Especially week-long-ers. Especially weekend-ers. Especially ones with books and work and teachers and people.
• I love Hebrew. Love, love, love. Fluency will eventually become me nicely.
• I am torn about a huge issue in my life. If I continue in the way I am headed, potential disaster. If I quit now, will I ever let go and just do what I want? The big question: do I keep the 4" orange heels or return them and get something wonderful but not as exciting? I only have days left to decide. What do I do?!!?!
• My hair is getting longer. I miss my short hair suddenly (thus my completely unflattering but totally nostalgic fb profile picture), but if I cut it now I will hurt myself. Ugh. I just want it uber long or right back to short. NO! It will be long. The end.
• Waffles with strawberries would make my life right now.

Basically, I think too much. That is all

.

I Keep Saying I Will Go to Bed Early, and Every Night without Fail I Fail...Oh, and It Is December

How do I even begin to explain today? Sleep in, breakfast bagel, things I forget, back to sleep, sleep in, quick shower, sad things, bad lunch, hairy legs and other things, cold, cold, FREEZING cold, umbrella that is big, dollar figure that is low, coffee, heat, hot shower, too hot, dece dinner, concert radio, stupid me, stupid who the frick do you think you are?!, procrastination, unexpectedly awesome pizza, conversation that was almost all without ruination, procrastination, blog. Or I could just sum it up in two little words: bad choices.

I cannot make myself make the right ones. I sleep when I know I cannot afford to and put off sleep when I am exhausted, just because I can. I eat things that are horrible for me and throw out half plates of food because I just cannot stomach it. I say the things that make me kick myself later and do not say the things that would finally give me peace. I allow someone who has already stolen so much of me to stomp on my face with a big boot. This all to say that I suck at decisions and I suck at writing things good. Or well, for that matter.

Oh, and it's December. Fina-fricken-tutely. Maybe this month will make sense.

Breathe. Release first and second paragraphs into the universe. Zen. Or something like it. ...There needs to be a Leanne Dictionary.

Note to self: make one.

Are Not

The more days that go by on this break, the more I realize that life is just not the same.

Breakfast is not breakfast without choose-your-own eggs, which for me is always scrambled with cheese (even though if I were anywhere else I would never choose it).

Tuesdays are not Tuesdays without mini-church. Especially the secretly trying to escape to do homework while wishing the whole time I could stay and forget about it.

Showers are not showers without random girls running through at all times, mold growing all around, and pressure/temperature that changes every thirty seconds.

Wednesdays are not Wednesdays without "Wonderful Wednesday Dinner," arriving 15 minutes early for no reason at all, and then feeling dumb for the next 14 minutes until everyone else shows up.

Homework isn't homework without the pool breaks (even when all I'm doing is reading ahead for next semester).

Thursdays are not Thursdays without chicken strips. I so dearly miss chicken strips.

Weekends are not weekends without lame chick flicks, procrastination, multiple church services and changing seven times a day.

Car rides are not car rides without guys "pretending" to make out, fighting for shot-gun and Timmies.

And waking up is not waking up without people to see the second I open my eyes until the second I fall asleep.

Sweet Dreams

Today started like any other. I woke up way too early to go eat a breakfast which somehow never fills me up to my satisfaction, mostly due to my pickyness in breakfast food. I'd skip the whole ordeal altogether except that, whenever I do, I have horrible headaches and feel physically ill until I finally get some nourishment. So I ate breakfast in record time, went back to my room and got re-undressed, and went back to bed. Normally this would be just enough sleep because of the combination of 5 hours before breakfast and 2 after, but on this ill-fated morning, my mother decided to call.

To properly understand this story, you need to know my mom. When we were growing up, she was the kind of person who believed in only-healthy-filled-with-veggies-but-never-in-any-circumstance-dunkaroos for lunch kinda moms. She also went through a phase when I was about eight where we only ate stuff with kamut in it. Until my brother was nine (he's four years younger than me), he never even knew what spaghetti sauce with meat was like. I always felt sorry for him. She was also the kind of mom who only had whole grain cereal, and NEVER Lucky Charms.

My favourite cereal in the whole entire world is Lucky Charms. It is the only cereal I'll eat, and I don't plan on changing my ways any time soon. Not only does it take longer to get soggy than anything not made out of cardboard, but who doesn't like fun, coloured marshmallows with a catchy jingle that never quite leaves your subconscious?

So my mom gave me a call this morning at 9am, a full hour before I needed to be up to become adequately beautiful for my Bible Research class. She had pure motives, so I can't actually be mad.

Two months ago I was in a car accident that not only totaled my car (which my insurance gave me next to zippo for, thus leaving me carless and get-around-like-normal-less), but also wrecked my back...again (I was in a similar accident 2 years ago). So to get to all my numerous massage, physio and doctor appointments, my mom has so awesomely driven me around and made sure that I make it to everything on time. Basically she's wonderful. So when she called this morning, it was just to remind me that she'd be here to pick me up at 1pm. I'm sure I was perfectly polite before I hung up and tumbled back into bed.

So how does this all fit together?
For my birthday this year, my parents bought me the lovely laptop I'm currently typing away on. My brother, being the superb young man that he is (and the poor 16-year-old-without-a-job young man that he is), got me Lucky Charms. It made my life. I screamed louder than for any other gift in the history of time. Even when I pretend I don't, I definitely love him for his thoughtfulness and sensitivity to my needs. My mom rolled her eyes, took a picture, and gave me a look that spelled out my ridiculousness.

The point I'm trying to make is that my mom cares more than most would normally be willing to admit that their mothers care about them. Did she shove kamut down our throats for five years out of hatred? Of course not. Did she deny me my favourite sugary meal of morning glory because she wanted me to be unhappy for all the years I lived in her house? For sure not. And because I didn't rebel and hide a box of my personal cocaine in my closet, I think it's safe to say that I also love her far more than I love those delicious marshmallows.