Epiphany and a Half

Just found the Absolute. Funniest. Blog. Ever. I thought it was stupid, but I perservered through the first post and discovered that I can laugh really loudly in public places even when I'm desperately trying to shut up.

Read it.
http://www.hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/

Also, I've decided to stop posting for a while. I realized I've posted more in the past year than the last two or three put together, and reviewing them have realized I've said less of substance; and for no other reason than because I like to know that somebody is listening. Which is human nature, but still somewhat pathetic. For me. Because I need to work on my relationships in the here, the now. I'm not always good at that.

One last random thought--tornado weather makes me want to dance. It's beautiful and shifting, and reminds me of a reckless child, angry one moment and playful the next. Yesterday was awesome. Although I didn't get to see even one of the five funnels! All I did was walk in the lovely wild weather, listening to the sirens go off. I wish fall lasted longer.

Sober

Twenty people died last night. They were caught in the same storm that came through here at about six this morning. I woke up to my alarm and a tornado siren, and the wind ripping around this flimsy college-kid trailer that the sibthings and I call home.

I'm pulling them out of bed and making them get dressed, and the next thing you know, the lady from across the street is staggering over through the storm to tell us that there's a tornado and we need to go to the dorm. It sounded like a plan to me, since I could see the thick red line galloping across the radar screen, fifteen minutes out. So we showed up to sit in the lobby for twenty minutes, until the wind died down enough to go home. At first, I was disgruntled because of all the unnecessary fuss.

Turns out, that same storm had been moving east across the southern states and had already claimed several victims. It didn't actually touch down in Ooltewah, but the eye passed right over us. And I wonder what we would have done, what I would have had to do, if things were just a little bit different.

Life is such an easy thing to lose.

Decide

After a while, looking beyond today only gets you to tomorrow, if you're lucky.

The only problem with keeping all your thoughts in your head is that, sooner or later, they'll make a desperate attempt to claw their way out.

You don't get to pick when.

No time to breathe!

Updates on my week.

1) First, it has been my busiest yet. I was quite whelmed over until I realized, hey, every week was like this last year. So it's time to pack up the violin and start working.

2) I'm wondering where I got the delicious SmartWool socks that are on my feet, after having dug them out from under my bed. But seriously, where did they come from? And why did I not know about them before?

3) I read a few passages from Pride and Prejudice yesterday, the part where Darcy thinks Elizabeth is plain until he realizes her eyes are amazing and he can't get enough of her. And I melted, maybe just a little bit.

4) I realized that real life doesn't work that way. In several different painful ways.

5) I played Frizbee golf for the first time, and confirmed that I am most definitely terrible. And that I'm lucky to play with. Maybe I've got a gift for channeling talent to other people. Or maybe I just suck.

6) I got out my climbing shoes after church yesterday and stared at them for a while. I was sort of appalled when I realized I was too tired to pack all my gear and head to Foster, but I slept on a blanket in the sun for a while and it was beautiful.

7) A friend spent the night, and I woke up past midnight with her cold toes rubbing my foot in her sleep. And I laughed because I love my friends, even if their toes are cold.

There's more, but I've got a religion presentation to do for tomorrow and a room to clean and...no energy to do it with.

Scattered souls of bread angels

I accidentally poured out my bible this morning, all the scraps of paper with cursive scrawled on their surfaces, front and back, criss-crossing sermon annoucements and index cards. There are bits of poetry, the verses with heavily crossed out sections and notes in the margins, and prayers written when they are too harsh to be spoken. And some are both, I think. I'm bad at that--instead of keeping a comprehensive journal, when I need to write, I grab whatever happens to be closest. Which would explain, if you were wondering, the three paragraphs of worried debating scrunched between my biochemistry notes for chapter six. It frustrates me, because I'd like to keep all of it together--I might want it someday.

Call it superstitious, but sometimes I think that I pour a tiny bit of my soul out onto each piece of paper I touch with a pen. Sometimes I think that if all those scraps of paper were collected, gathered into one place and allowed to take whatever shape they desired, there would be an exact likeness of what we call a personality, a character, a soul, whole and complete--staring back steadily, framed from the essence of the words on the page. I wonder if I would like what I saw.

Anyway, I was just thinking, after all that, that that's why I love to read what people write (got to love the three 'that's'). Because it lets you look into a piece of them that they may not even know they're showing. It's why I love to get emails from people like Becca, because when I read them I can hear her; she's so good at putting herself on paper. And Lubke; when I read his prose and poetry, several years ago, I knew we'd be friends before we even met. And we were.

My mom is here. She came down to visit today, and of course, being the wonder she is, helped me get the house clean. Which is why my bible got dumped out, which is why I started thinking about scraps of souls seperated from each other. Which is why, although this blog could be completely revised and the idea I wanted to get across would actually make sense, and my grammer would be more aesthetically pleasing, I will simply let it go. Mom is pulling fresh bread out of the oven, and I think the angels just began to sing. That'd be a terrible thing to miss. I think my nose just started quivering from sheer happiness.