Walking

Walking. An interesting concept.

Have you ever thought about it?

I decided that I needed to walk from one building to another without even really being conscious of it and suddenly my right foot took off, closely followed by my left. They continued this race through door, held open by a slightly charming young man, and into the computer lab where I currently am. Neither won. They both arrived at the same time. At the moment, the right foot is higher than the left, but that will change when my legs grow tired and stiff and I must re-cross them the other way.

Walking.

How do we do it?

Proud mothers and fathers cheer when their child takes their first steps. Is it really so great an accomplishment? Virtually everyone who is able walks. Some enjoy it more than others. Some long for the ability. Some wish the world was full of moving sidewalks. So why do they cheer?

Is walking inevitable? If Mom and Dad hadn't encouraged, coaxed, demonstrated, and forced my feet with their hands, would I still be the walker I am today?

Or must someone walk ahead of you in order for you to learn the way to do it?

Now take that thought and change it slightly.

Believing. Trusting. Having faith.

Have you ever thought about it?

Who are you walking ahead of that needs you there so they can learn how to believe?

The Eye of the Beholder

I've been thinking lately....

What is beauty?

They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

What if no one is beholding you?

The though crossed my mind today that if I was loved by some handsome man, maybe I would feel beautiful then. Perhaps, though, then I would not believe him and think he was only "saying it." So maybe if some ugly man loved me, maybe then I'd feel beautiful. But then, could I really trust his taste? So how about an average looking man? Neither a hottie nor a nobody? Surely his opinion would be the least biased due to his own physical appearance. I don't know... I think he might still just say things to make me happy and I would have a hard time believing him.

Is that what beauty is?

I doubt it.

Who determines physical beauty?

I'm deciding it: the artist does. The artist is the one who can see beauty in ugliness, elegance in hideousness, and charm in disfigurement. The artist divines the diamond in the rough.

I think beauty and love ought to be completely unconnected. Never trust the flattering words of a lover. What do they know? Their glasses are rose colored and may be discarded at any moment.

Beauty is defined as being deeply satisfying to the mind, something excellent of its kind, or something extraordinary.

A painter looks for beauty in light, color, and angle. A writer creates beauty through black shapes on white paper. Theatre artists show beauty, and the other side of beauty, through live human beings and their interactions. A photographer captures a moment of beauty on film.

So what is this worry over physical beauty that I see in so many girls around me?

No matter what you look like, no matter your "defects", there is an Artist who created you and who every day calls you Beautiful. A Masterpiece. A Prized Possession.

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, know that the Beholder can't take His eyes off of you!

Answered Prayers

What a wonderful day! I don't often "journal" my day but I must now.

Let me start with last night. I finished everything I needed to do in a timely fashion and, being tired, went to bed at 11. I woke up around 4:45, looked at the clock, and rejoiced that I still had a few hours to sleep. I arose at 8:45 and began my day completely refreshed--something I haven't felt in a while.

I printed out my resumes, dressed professionally, and then headed out to try to find a job. The first few places I went told me that their applications are actually online. I stopped in a little clothing boutique and filled out an application, but the manager is out of town for the week so perhaps I will hear from them next week.

While walking to Starbucks, though, I passed what seemed to be a cute little store. On a whim, I walked in "The Mole Hole." To my surprise, it was almost identical to the shop I had worked at a few years ago, "Hollyhock." The manager noticed me and asked if he could help me with anything. I said, "Well, I'm actually interested in an application for employment."

Instead of the application, though, he guided me to his office where he looked over my resume and interviewed me. He said that he thought I would fit in nicely there! He just wanted to check a few of my references and then he'd give me a call.

I decided to just go home since I had a possibility of a job and the other places I was looking at I could just apply for online. About a half an hour later, Dave, the manager, calls me and says, "I think you gave me a number for one of your relatives! Haha. Not really....but Judi loves you! She couldn't speak more highly of you. She kept praising and praising you. From what I've heard and from what I've seen just talking to you, I think you will do just fine. We'll see you next Thursday!"

Is that awesome or what??? They have very flexible hours, the pay is not that bad, and the atmosphere is full of beauty. Now are not the exact things I was praying for or what?? How great is our God????

In other news, my car that God provided me with last week is amazing. He and I get along so well. He's a 2002 Kia Optima. I've decided to name him Optimus Prime. Though he is silver and not red and blue, he seems to like his name quite a bit. I wouldn't be surprised at all to one day catch him transforming back into a car! :) It took quite a while to find the right name...but since I love how God transforms our lives, I figure giving my car a Transformer's name isn't a bad idea! To be sure, I've only seen the first movie once and that's all I know about them, but hey, it works for us. ;)

I get to go home tomorrow for about 4 1/2 days. I'm excited! The only downside is that it will be my last visit home until Christmas. But with rehearsals starting in a few weeks and my new job starting next week, the time will go quickly. Perhaps I'll hear from Sight and Sound next month, too!!! I sure hope so! Though part of me would like them to ask me to start next fall....I'm looking forward to the acting gig with the Virginia Symphony in January and February. I'd also like to finish my degree by next August as originally planned! I'm looking forward to celebrating my mom's birthday!!! I think I'm more excited for her to open her presents than she is excited to actually be getting them!!!! hehehe.

Okay, I think that's enough journaling about my day! I promise it won't happen again soon. I prefer whimsical thoughts to mundane diaries. :D

A Girl Can Dream, Right?

Rain pelts my window, the gentle thudding creating a rhythm of mystery and excitement. Anything can happen on a rainy day.

I stroll down the lane, grateful for my umbrella, breathing in the fresh scent of rain washed earth. Leaves quiver with too many raindrops; the street reflects landscapes in pools of collected water; gray sky threatens to pour for the next few hours.

Without warning, the wind picks up and suddenly my umbrella is of no use to me: the rain has defied gravity and is coming from all directions. To avoid being completely soaked through, I dash into the nearest storefront which happens to be a quaint little coffee shop I've never before seen, "Jane's Nook," a coffee shop designed entirely around Jane Austen books.

I explore this unfamiliar setting with fascinated eyes, drinking in the lace, embroidery, portraits, tea sets, and of course, bookshelves full of books by Jane Austen, about Jane Austen, and about her books. The menu is full of delightful items including "Elizabeth's Espresso," "Mansfield Park Mocha," and "Jane's Java."

I decide on "Harriet's Hot Chocolate" and a cranberry scone dedicated to Catherine Morland of Northanger Abbey and settle myself in a cozy chair near the front window. I select 'Sense and Sensibility' from the bookshelf, one of my favorites, and cast a glance around the room before opening its threadbare cover. A perfect fire glows in the miniature fireplace and instrumental music floats in the air, catching everyone in its spell.

The bell above the door dings and, to my surprise, in walks the spitting image of Mr. Darcy, at least the way I imagine Mr. Darcy looks. Quite a different version than the Kiera Knightly 'Pride and Prejudice' Mr. Darcy that one is not attracted to in the beginning but falls in love with by the end. No, this handsome fellow is breathtakingly perfect. Tall, dark hair, intense eyes, well-built, high brow, and dazzling smile. He orders Harriet's namesake as well and selects the scone from the exact tray from which I had chosen.

While waiting for his drink to be made, he strolls over to the bookshelf near which I am sitting and peers at the row of books. He straightens up with a slightly distressed look and begins to ask the girl behind the counter a question.

"Where is 'Sense and--'" His eye catches sight of the book in my hands and he stops. A smile breaks on his lips and he says, "Ah, I see. Good choice. My favorite."

"Mine, too," I admit. "Would you like read it? I can choose another."

"No, no," he says quickly. "You enjoy it. Or better yet, we both could."

"Oh?" I ask curiously.

"Would you allow me to read aloud to you?" His smooth voice is irresistable. Of course I won't say 'no'!

He scoots his chair closer to mine, sips his hot chocolate, opens the book, and begins.

"The family of Mr. Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex. Their estate was large . . . "

I settle in my chair and sigh quietly to myself. My hot chocolate warms my hands; this handsome stranger warms my heart.

The mysterious excitement of the rainy day was not in vain!!

If only this had actually happened....... :D

My Favorite Song From My Favorite Musical Movie

"It's a Great Big World" from The Harvey Girls.


I bought a bonnet to suit my face,
I had my petticoat trimmed with lace,
I looked at the mirror, around I twirled
And then I went out in the wide, wide world.
I dreamed of gentlemen I would meet,
I saw them all kneeling at my feet,
I can't understand it, my hair is all curled,
But my goodness me, it's a great big world.
And it's cold, cold, cold,
And we'll soon be old.
Alas and alack, it's a great big world.

I learned to sew and I learned to bake,
I even frosted an angel cake,
On Saturday evening, when folks dropped in,
My house was as neat as a brand new pin.
I thought by learning each social grace,
Some likely chap might forget my face,
I can't understand it, I've knitted and purled,
But my goodness me, it's a great big world.
And it's cold, cold, cold,
And we'll soon be old.
Alas and alack, it's a great big world.

I had no petticoat trimmed with lace,
My angel cake was a pure disgrace,
My face was my fortune, my mother said,
And my dancing slippers of bright, bright red.
A million miles I have danced, or more,
In hopes Prince Charming would cross the floor,
I can't understand it, I've waltzed and I've whirled,
But my goodness me it's a great big world.
And it's cold, cold, cold,
And we'll soon be old.

But I'll keep on knitting and doing it well,
My slippers are one thing I never will sell,
My petticoat's waiting because who can tell?
It's a great big world, it's a great big world.

Watch it! "It's A Great Big World"

Dysfunctional Fairytale

The following is the fairytale I told to Timmy tonight to help him fall asleep. *Clear throat*

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, lived a farmer. Now the farmer loved to rake. Whenever he was stressed, he would grab his rake and go outside and start raking the ground. He found it soothing.

One day, he was raking as usual when he struck something hard. He raked away the dirt and discovered---a treasure chest. He dug it up and opened the chest. Inside were jewels, crowns, gold, silver, pearls, coins, and jewelry. He was so rich! But what could he do about it?

"I can't tell my neighbors," he thought, "for they will kill me in my sleep and take my treasure. I can't tell my wife," he continued, "for she will poison my food, take the riches, and go marry a prince. I can't tell my animals," he moaned, "for they will stampede me to death, take the money, and go buy themselves a better farm. Who can I tell???"

He looked down at his trusted rake and said, "I can only tell you, Rake. You are my only true friend. If you promise not to tell anyone, I will buy you a golden handle."

Now the rake was pleased with this prospect, for what rake had a golden handle?? He decided to keep his mouth shut...or would have if he had a mouth.

So the farmer buried the treasure chest again and went home for dinner. Inside the farmhouse, his wife was making cabbage soup. The farmer hated cabbage soup, but he ate it because he knew his wife loved it. But she didn't actually love it. She hated it, too. But they were poor and cabbage soup is easy to make because all you have to do is boil the cabbage in some water, take the cabbage out, and ta-da! cabbage soup. Then you can use the cabbage again the next day and make more. It's a never ending supply of food.

They sat down to eat the soup, but the farmer was having trouble because he was so pleased about his discovery. He was smiling to himself so much that he started choking as he was holding back his laughter. He kept choking and coughing and laughing and choking and coughing and laughing and choking and coughing and laughing till his wife said, "What is the matter with you? Be careful you don't choke to death!" And that's exactly what happened. He was choking and coughing and laughing so much that he died right there at the table. His wife was naturally shocked, but not too disappointed for she had gotten married at 14 and was sick of him and their endless supply of cabbage soup. She didn't know what to do now, though, so she went outside and grabbed the rake. She started raking and thinking and raking and thinking in the exact spot her late husband had been earlier in the day.

Suddenly, she hit something hard and discovered the treasure chest. She opened it up and shouted with joy at all the jewels, crowns, gold, silver, pearls, coins, and jewelry. She quickly buried it again though because she didn't want anyone to know.

"If I tell my neighbors, they will surely kill me in my sleep and take the money. I can't tell my husband because he's already dead. If I tell the animals they will kill me and take the money and buy a better farm," she mused. She realized that it was time for chores to be done so she covered the treasure chest and told the rake, "If you keep your mouth shut about this, I will buy you a golden rake cover." The rake was ecstatic for who had ever heard of a golden rake cover?

The farmer's wife went into the barn to milk the cow, but the cow was used to the farmer milking her so she got spooked and reared up on her hind legs and trampled the farmer's wife. She lay dead in the barn and her husband lay dead at the kitchen table.

Meanwhile, a few days later, the farmer's wife's sister came by to check up on her sister. She hadn't heard from her in a few days and wanted to know why. She entered the house and found the dead farmer and was surprised, but slightly relieved for her sister. She went into the barn and found her dead sister and was shocked and angry. She figured out that the cow had killed her so she slaughtered the cow and ate it as punishment. It was the world's first hamburger.

It was so delicious that she went home to her husband, who was also a farmer....Farmer MacDonald to be exact....Old MacDonald had a farm, after all....E I E I O.....and she had him try the new meal.

"I call it the....the....Cow Sandwich!" she declared proudly.

"The Cow Sandwich???" he said, exasperated. "You can't call it that! No one will ever want to eat that. That sounds disgusting!"

"Well, what would you call it?" she said mockingly.

"I'd call it...I'd call it...the...the...the Hamburger!" he exclaimed.

"The hamburger????" she shouted. "But it's not a ham or a burg and it's definitely not an R! What are you thinking??"

But the name stuck. And they decided to sell them and opened a shop called McDonald's.

*****Pause in the story....this is the part where I sliced my finger open on a broken mug. If you would like to take a tiny break in reading now, that's totally fair because I had to take a tiny break in telling it while I washed my finger off and put on a bandaid. Of course, in the time it took you to read that, all of that would be completed now, so I guess the break is obsolete. Please continue reading.******

One day, a huge windstorm was attacking the kingdom and lifted the rusting, splintering, not golden rake in the air and slammed it down at the door of an old, ugly woman who lived in the village. Frightened by the sound, she opened the door and found the rake. She was very confused. How could a rake just land on her doorstep like that? She reached out and grabbed the handle just as the wind picked the rake and the women up and flew them over the village.

People ran to the windows and saw her and cried out, "A witch! A witch!!"

But a very smart child said, "Nooo. Everyone knows that witches fly on brooms, not rakes! That's just the old, ugly woman down the street."

"Oh," said everyone, relieved.

"Go back to your work," said the child.

So the rake and woman flew all the way to the field of the dead farmer. It landed right on the spot both he and his wife had dug up. Now the rake, supported by the wind, was standing up right and moving back and forth.

"What are you doing?" the woman asked the rake. "It's like you're trying to tell me something or write something in the sand."

The rake just kept scraping back and forth, trying to tell the woman to dig.

"Do you want me to dig right here?" she finally asked.

The rake didn't answer, of course, but looked a trifle happier. The woman used the rake to scrape away the dirt and found the treasure chest. She was so happy she danced with glee around it. A family passing by in their horse and buggy stopped and stared, utterly scared.

"A witch! A witch!!!" they cried.

But their very smart child said, "That isn't a witch! Everyone knows witches dance around cauldrons, not chests! Drive on, Horse!" And they drove on.

The witch---I mean, the old, ugly woman was so excited, but reasoned within herself and said, thinking outloud, "I can't tell my neighbors for they will surely kill me in my sleep. I don't have any family or livestock, so you, Rake, are the only person I can tell. I'm rich! What shall I do? I know! I will buy the kingdom!"

And she did. She went to the prince and gave him all the treasure and bought the kingdom. Then she made the prince her slave, but when he didn't like that, she turned him into a frog, because she was an old, ugly woman and she could do that. You see, she didn't want all the young, pretty girls to have a young, handsome man, so she turned him into a frog. That's why there are so few young, handsome men out there because all the old, ugly women are jealous and turn them into frogs so no one can have them.

Anyway...the old, ugly woman was very unhappy because with all her riches and power, she could not make herself young and beautiful again. She was so sad she cried herself to death. For real. She cried so much she drowned in her own tears.

The rake was the only one who knew she had died so it decided to sit down in the throne. When it did, it turned into a handsome king who became a very kind ruler. No one even missed the old, ugly woman. He was very handsome and very kind and very generous. He gave a golden rake to every family because every family should have a golden rake.

The kingdom lived in peace and happiness forever. And they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

Epilogue: At the conclusion of this story, Timmy so wisely asked, "What happened to Old MacDonald and the hamburgers?"

"They are still in existence today," I said. "Haven't you ever been to McDonald's???"


The End For Real. ;)

Broken Hearts

What is wrong with us girls?

Singleness can be the greatest thing ever and yet we break our hearts over and over again over the guy who broke it so long ago. Why?

We are created so emotionally. We cling to what makes us feel loved, special, safe, and happy. And unfortunately, sometimes we cling longer than we should.

We have to sift through so many frogs that it seems as though the real prince will never arrive. And then when someone who seems like he might be, we shy away because we're afraid he'll just be another frog.

All the memories of the good times are amplified and the bad ones diminished until we can't remember why it was a bad relationship. We hope with all our might that he will come riding in on a white horse and prove that we were wrong about him. But he won't. Because we weren't wrong about him. We just forget that sometimes.

This isn't a man bash. I've known many upstanding, Christian men who fit the "prince" bill. They just all happen to be with someone else.

The sad part is that it is hard for us princesses to wait for the prince because of the emotional attachments we still have with the frogs. Why isn't there a magic potion that will just make that go away?

My only solution for this kind of heartache is to literally lay it down before Christ, starve the attachment, and replace the memories. As harsh as all that sounds, that's exactly what I had to do. I am very happy to say that I now experience exquisite freedom and redemption! It took time...I'm not saying it won't take time...but it is worth it.

Because after all, we don't want to meet the prince and still be thinking about the frog! How unfair to the prince! We want to be ready for him and have a whole heart to give to him.

Broken heart? It will heal. Just let it. And start dreaming again. Now is the time to dream bigger!

Revenge...in the process

I went to the store today and stocked up on weapons of mass destruction--of cockroaches. I now have 18 cockroach traps around my bedroom and bathroom, two nightlights, and a new floor lamp. I needed the lamp anyway; my room was too dark being lit by a table lamp across the room. It will be a challenge learning to sleep with little lights on, but I prefer the discomfort of soft light rather than being invaded by unwelcome creatures of the night.

I think I may sleep soundly tonight. And if I don't, well...I will some night soon.

By the way, I remembered I have to write a monologue about a fear of mine. Oh yeah, I used my last entry. It pretty much sums it up. :)

Paranoia

I cannot sleep. I get close to it and then I feel something brush against my leg...who knows what it is, the air probably, but it causes me to leap off the couch (because I cannot trust my bed right now) and do a crazy little dance that assures me I'm fine.

I know they are out there. They are laughing at me. They are holding meetings on how to best torture me and it is working.

I thought I was okay, ready to sleep in spite of the light being on, when there it was. And I thought it was a legitimate insect or mini crustacean...but I must have been mistaken since I saw nothing.

It was 5 a.m. and I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped in the shower to scrub away all the imaginary bugs. Terrified, I pictured the floor crawling with the evil things, not a clear patch for me to step on. I whipped open the shower curtain and they disappeared.

I think I'm going crazy. I'm sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket watching the Disney channel trying to fend off any invaders. The I one I want won't come---sleep. I need to sleep! But how can I when the second I enter the subconscious is the second I am overrun?

I have no idea what to do, either. I've thought about running to Wal-Mart to buy--I don't know what, but something to protect me and catch them. I've thought about going to the hospital and checking myself into the psych ward. I've thought about praying them away...but I can't close my eyes. I'm shaking I'm so paranoid!

I hate bugs. And I know I don't have it that bad. I'm in a house with only a few actually sighted bugs. It's all in my head.

Am I nuts?

My Life is a Horror Movie

After a lovely evening last night, I went to bed around 1:30. I settled in for a good night's sleep, debating whether I would wake up in the morning or afternoon. Fate choose for me.

About 4:49 a.m., I was dreaming something bizarre. I can't even remember the details anymore, but I remember someone in the dream saying, "Do you let them walk on your arm?" I had the sudden realization that this was something real and jolted awake. Sure enough, I felt the cold, wet, creepy legs of something crawling on my arm. Instantly wide awake, I grabbed at it with my other hand and recoiled, aware that I was grasping a cockroach. I jumped out of bed, tripped over stuff on the floor, and turned on the light. There it was, sitting smugly on my bed, a big, brown, disgusting cockroach. I shudder and repressed a scream. I looked at the clock. 4:50 a.m. Now I was angry. I reached for a heavy book; I was going to smash the living daylights out of him. As I swung the book down, though, he sprang from the bed and disappeared. I had no idea where he went. I just knew he was still lurking, ready to pounce on me as soon as the light was out. I shook all my blankets and pillows. I searched under the bed. I sifted through piles of papers and books and clothes. Nothing. I was staying in that room any longer.

Nearly sobbing from the trauma, I grabbed my comforter and extra pillow that I had not been using when my invader attacked, and ran downstairs, leaving the light on in my room. I flipped lights on in every first floor room before stepping into it, giving the disgusting creatures warning that I was there and if I saw them they were dead. Hopefully they scattered. Hopefully they weren't there to begin with. I drank a glass of water to calm myself and settled in on the couch. I needed my mother. Badly. But since she is 15 hours away, I put on "Little Women" instead. Next best thing.

I tried to sleep. I tossed and turned. I would get settled and then be convinced that something was on me and have to jump up all over again. I could just picture a whole army of the little demons waiting till I dozed off and then marching all over their new territory.

I woke after a fitful night at about 11, still petrified. A stray hair that brushed my arm was almost yanked out. A bead of sweat, nervously clinging to neck, dripped down and received a panicked attack. The blinking green light on my computer was almost annihilated. I live in terror of going to sleep tonight. I might stay on the couch again. Ugh. I feel so violated!

DEATH TO COCKROACHES.

Happiness

Happiness is a night by yourself, a good movie, great snacks, sparkling red Italian soda in a wine glass just because, and fun conversations with long distance friends.

That's all that needs to be said!

Though this website, if viewed with comedy in mind, can be quite entertaining as well:
Random Name Generator

My Date Night

I took myself on a date tonight. It was absolutely beautiful. I opened the door for me, drove me where I wanted to go, and paid for everything. So romantic.

I started out by dressing cutely...singing my heart out the whole time. I ordered a pizza from Papa Johns and then set out to get it. I chose the special they have running on all the commercials--the ones I've been salivating over all week: buy one large, two topping pizza and get a Cinnapie or Applepie pizza free. So I did! I opened that steaming pizza box and experiences a "Home Alone" moment: one pepperoni and bacon pizza ALL to myself. I ate one piece while driving down Virginia Beach Blvd. Finally at a red light, I reached over for the apple pie pizza. Opening the box was like smelling heaven. Oh it was so good! I couldn't stop at one piece! I had to eat two. I can taste it even now.

Licking my fingers clean, I pulled into the movie theatre parking lot. As I walked to the doors a light mist was falling, but instead of running to take cover, I lifted my face to embrace the mystery of a rain shower.

I'm sure I must have looked lonely or pathetic as I purchased my movie ticket, popcorn, and cherry Coke with no ice for one, but I was having a blast. An expensive blast, though. Let me tell you, I am no cheap date!

I walked into the nearly empty theatre and faced the dilemma of choosing a seat. Except for two in the last row, they were all open. So of course, I chose the center ones in the row right behind the aisle. Prime seating. Two couples and one lone girl came in eventually, as happy to see a nearly empty theatre as I was.

The lights dimmed slightly as the previews began to play. I'm such a sap; I cried at two of them. Previews! One was for "Amelia", the story of Amelia Earhart. From the 2 minutes of film, I was so moved by the ambition she had to fight for her dream. She didn't let any obstacle (and there were many!) stop her. That's the kind of person I want to be. The other preview was for "Fame", the re-make of the older movie. Kids with such talent and such passion. My heart went out to them as they pursue their dream with literally everything in them.

Isn't that what life should be about? The opportunity to dream as big as you possibly can and the chance to pursue it? I think it should be.

During the movie, I laughed and cried. It was so cute! I enjoyed myself very much.

I left the theatre on top of the world. I was (and am) so happy. I am a very good date.

I really love being by myself. I love having the independence to go and do whatever I want. I enjoy the little moments of savoring beauty or experiencing something new or returning a friendly smile. I like the feeling having a perfect stranger hold the door open gives me. I love dressing up for myself and no one else. It's so great to drive down the street, singing out, bouncing in my seat, and loving life.

I love being single, young, and alive.