I’m still here, I haven’t left.
I’ve been kinda busy “throwing myself into the corporate world”
and “spending time doing important things.”
We all know that’s a load of horseshit,
so let’s just be honest and fess up
to what’s really been going on.

I’ve been falling down, down into love. Downer and downest.

I’ve also been….
1. Sabotaging my sugar-free diet by binging on the crystal meth of Christmas candy.
2. Counting the alarming number of cat hairs on Oscar’s clothes.
3. Thinking, “I’m going to visit all the countries in the world in the next ten years!” and then realizing that there are a shit-ton of countries, so eff that.
4. Crying in public. Mostly about me being in love, but also about other things that make me sad, like my back fat.

Too much to handle, huh?
Rest your mind, and open your eyes to this.
I woke up to this cabin, in Joshua Tree.
And I died.
And I am now blogging from the afterlife.

And now, some truth.
While there are varying levels of honesty, this is the truth at it’s truest.
I wrote some notes on a napkin in 2001, after I graduated high school.
I was sitting down in the halls at my college campus, waiting for my next class.
Legs indian-style, I didn’t know anyone, I just sat there and drank my orange juice.
I opened up a book of quotes, one written by George Eliot (the second paragraph below).
I decided to write a paragraph prior to his, to make it my own.
This note was not intended for anyone specific at the time,
I just knew that I was writing out of frustration.
And I was longing for someone that had a hand that matched my own.

Think of a painter attempting to capture an inner dream.
She begins with one corner of the canvas, painting what she thinks should be there.
She takes a step back and realizes that her creation does not reflect her dream—
she has not quite pulled it off.
Frustrated, she covers it over with white paint, trying again,
each time finding out what her painting isn’t, and what her dream is.

The inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person;
having neither to weigh thoughts nor to measure words but to pour them all out, just as it is,
knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them,
keeping what is worth keeping,
and then, with the breath of kindness,
blow the rest away.

I no longer need to question who I was writing for.
I salute you, sir Oscar…
for helping me paint the dream I’ve tried painting all of my life.

This is the true joy in life, being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one.
Being in love with another, being in love with life and what it is you do with it.
Being a force of nature instead of a feverish, clod of grievances complaining
that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.
Devote yourself to another, to the potential of impacting their life for betterment.
Be alone with the one you love, be alone in what you share with them.
And find out what it is that makes them feel important.

Merry Christmas, from me to you.

More to come from Dan and Diane’s wedding.

In this world, where nothing else is true
Here I am, tangled up in you.

Sorry I fell asleep, but I want you in my arms.

I miss you guys already, see you in February 2012.

OR, is it round?

Regardless of the answer, I really love this world of mine.

I used to be plagued with insomnia, followed by a period of fitful sleep.
Almost without realizing it, I was a nervous sleeper.
I worried the details of my day; they worked themselves into strange, disquieting dreams.

At some point, I hoped and prayed that I would be brave enough
to make the first tentative steps toward something better. A better life.

Now, I am a champion sleeper.
I can sleep almost anywhere, under any conditions, for any length of time.
It’s my greatest talent, my superpower.
Earthquake tremors? I sleep through them. I’m good like that.
Tickling my feet?? Go ahead. Do your worst to me. I’m snoozin out of control.

I feel so rested, at peace, and saved.

Multiple Choice

1. Jessica and Ryan’s wedding was off the heezy because:
a) the groomsmen possessed South African accents
b) there was an 8 year old boy whom I swooned over during dinner and later used his thumbs for a photo op
c) the beach session was so not cliche
d) men were macking hard on FRENCH FRIES in tuxedos (oh, the masculinity)
e) Jessica had this uncanning ability to randomly stick her tongue out at me during very serious moments (hot girl alert!!)
f) both a and e

Correcto, smartypantalones.
The answer is,
g) all of the above

I crave and anticipate so many wonderful things in my life right now,
and I think it’s echoing throughout these images.

I had a blast. You two make my page look so gooooood.
I love you.

All of a sudden, my life seems compressed.
I remember a recurring anxiety dream I had in college, a mad scramble to write my thesis
with an unknown but crushing deadline.
The cruel mash-up of paralysis and frenzy feels familiar.
Today my sense of urgency returns.
All of those grand ideas I had, the ones I shelved somewhere for a day I’d have more hours to bring them to life.
They are beginning to come out all at once.
All we have is now and tomorrow, and maybe next month and a few months more.
After that, who knows?

When it’s over, I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

When it’s over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.

Know your call to action.
Keep it close.

Let’s rephrase.
Guess who ALWAYS wins?

More to come from Ryan and Jessica’s wedding.