Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Dancing In The Rain

I love the rain. Always have, always will. The way it washes everything away. Makes everything pure again. It's comforting.

Tonight, along with my two best friends, I drove out into the rain to get a movie. "Don't Stop Believing" came on the radio and we turned it as loud as it could go and sung our hearts out. It was just what we needed. If the riffs in our friendship could be repaired by Journey, then they obviously were not as bad as we thought. We were so happy, dancing and singing.

We jumped out of the car and danced in the rain. It didn't matter that we were soaking wet. It didn't matter that is was ruining our make-up and hair. We were little kids again. Carefree and happy. Just dancing our cares away in the rain.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Vices

I have a vice. Everyone does. Some people smoke a lot. Or are professional drinkers. Some do really terrible things. Or do really embarrassing things. Something that they do that can take away from their character, unless it is unusually endearing. Most of the time, it is a secret. If not a secret, then it is something that they don't openly talk about unless it was brought up. Yes, I have a vice. I buy books. A lot. Too many. I would like to say that I spend all of my money on great literary classics, but lo, I do not. I spend my money on ChickLit. I will not simply check the book out of the library where it is free, I must buy it. I like to own my witty, romantic novels. I like to hold it in my hands and gingerly flip each page knowing fully well that each word and every sentence belongs to me. I like to work my way through my book at my own pace, which is usually two or three a week. I like to place my favorite bookmark in my new favorite book after each wonderfully written page. I like to put my book on my bookshelf with the knowledge that it will always be in the protection of my room and that as long as it is standing there I will never be alone. The books are an escape that no one understands. I have no romance in my life; however the beautiful people in my books always have enough romance to get me through. I like to read these inspirational stories where the characters fight against all odds to be the with the one person they truly love. The idea that someone can love another so much that they will do anything to have them is so incredibly encouraging. Even when you think it can't happen, it will. These stories end happily. They are terribly predictable, dependable, and entertaining. The happily ever after always fills me with such optimism that makes me get up, go out, and buy another. They get me through. They give me hope. They are my vice.

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things

Do you know what my favorite thing in the whole world is? Art. Every kind.

I spent the entire day painting. I am not a legendary artist by any means. I just like to paint fun things. But I honestly have not felt this relaxed in a long time. It has been a great day.

Pictures can sometimes be more beautiful than real life. A real photographer can see the beauty in the world that oftentimes is overlooked and develop in a way that is overwhelming. It takes a true artist to do that.

I love words. I know that I have mentioned that I am a writer and that I love to read too. But I really love listening and hearing. It doesn't matter where the words are. A song, a magazine, a book, a television show. They are words and I love and respect them for everything they offer my life.

Which brings me to music. I almost obsess over all kinds. Live or otherwise. Every genre. When I listen, I can hear every instrument involved and I can imagine what the artists were feeling when they wrote it and how they feel every time they play it. My favorite feeling is when you are at a concert and you get so rapt in the music that eventually the steady pulsation of the bass begins to coincide with the rhythmic beating of your heart. Nothing can top that.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Make New Friends And Hope To Keep The Old

It's weird. Leaving, you know? They say you can never go home again, but I hope they are wrong.

I just graduated from high school in May and now I am getting ready to go to college. One of my friends is already at the Naval Academy. A friend came over after church and she is leaving for school today. All of my athletic friends are leaving this week to start their practices. By the second week of August, I will only have a few friends left that haven't gone away to school. And then I will leave.

I am a little nervous about leaving. Not because I am scared that I won't have fun or that it will be too difficult. I am nervous about leaving because it won't be the same life I've had for the past 18 years. I was fortunate enough to pretty much know everyone I graduated with, and I went to school with them for the majority of my life. It will be weird to not see them at lunch or pep rallies or football games or just in the hallway. And it will be really weird not to see my best friends everyday anymore. This will be the last time that I see most of them again. Well at least under the circumstances of being best friends.

I would like to keep in touch. But I know that I won't. Thank goodness for Facebook because that is probably the only way that I will talk to any of them again. I am not good with communication. Face to face? I can do that. I can respond to a text message just fine and carry on a healthy conversation. I refuse, however, to begin a text conversation unless I have something specific to say that illicits a response. I am for sure not one of those "Hey bro. Was up?" texters. I would never say that in real life, so I would definitely never put it in print. Overall though, texting is easy. But I get nervous to talk on the phone. Actually, no. If I am being honest, I do not get nervous about that; I turn into a freak. I can answer the phone and sound normal. And I can even call some close friends and family members, again only if I have something specific to say, and not sound befuddled. But actually placing phone calls? To normal people? No, I am sorry. I just cannot do that. It takes me at least ten minutes to get the nerve up to call someone that I am not close to. Like when I want to get my hair cut or order a pizza or call my next door neighbor. And by the end of the conversation, I can feel my throat closing up. I told you that I was a freak. So, I know that I will not keep in touch.

I hope that at Christmas break and next summer we can all be friends again. I am scared that we won't be. I have seen it happen to too many older kids. I just hope we can be different. We will all go off to our schools and change into the people that we are going to be for the rest of our lives. I want my friends to make good decisions about the people they become. But most of all, I hope that I don't disappoint them with the person I become.

Have you ever read The Catcher In The Rye? It is my favorite book. Holden Caulfield tells his sister that he often has a dream where he sees all these children playing in a field of rye, except they don't see the cliff they are about to fall off of. He wants to stop them. He wants to be the catcher in the rye. Also, his favorite place to go is the museum because no matter how long it has been since the last time he was there, it is always the same. Everything is in a glass box and never changes.

I want to be the catcher in the rye. I want to put all of my friends in a glass box so that they never change. Yes, I want them to grow up. I want them to be mature. Settle down. Get married. Have kids. But I want them to be my friends forever. I know that I am naive. I know that is not fair for them nor is it realistic. But it is what I want. I want to come home again and for things to be the same. Obviously in my mind we would all be more fabulous, but otherwise the same. This is what I want.

Disenchantment

"It is the mark of an educated man to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it." -Aristotle

I have been feeling a little disillusioned lately. Is it okay to say that? Is that alright? Is that acceptable? Disillusionment. Honesty. Disenchantment.

Thank you, Aristotle. I understand that people can be disenchanted. I understand that I very well may be. But, I don't accept that.