Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Good News and Bad News

Have you ever noticed, that when it comes to news, you can't have the good without the bad. It's like going into the doctor's office for a mammogram, and you have a few calcium deposits. Thank God it's not cancer, right? Well, the doctor calls you a couple days later, informing you that, all though you do not have breast cancer, they noticed something odd in your blood tests. After extensive testing, they learn that you have some other, more heinous disease. It's curable, but it sucks because you had no idea. You'd rather have the breast cancer.

I'm having those moments a lot lately.

Good news: I'm officially an aunt to a beautiful baby boy.
Bad news: I still haven't met him after three weeks.

Good news: I'm going to my classes, learning instead of vegging out on the couch all day.
Bad news: I don't understand a damn thing I'm being taught.

Good news: I've finally fessed up to Lars about how I felt for him.
Bad news: As I expected, he doesn't feel the same way.

But that's OK, right? I mean, this kind of thing happens everyday. Problem with it is, I'm sick as hell and it's all because I'm stressed. I wish I could make some of it a little easier, but it's all a matter of faith.

And seriously, what's faith without a God to put it in. I've yet to forget about the Man I spent my entire summer serving. I pray every night, try my damnedest not to forget that I'm here, on this planet, to live for Him. And I'm doing my best. But I don't think my best is enough anymore. I'm so tired of fighting for something that isn't there to help me every time I ask for it. But then again... He's not supposed to be there helping me every step of the way. He isn't that kind of God.

My Development of Modern Christian Thought course is teaching me a lot about Him, and the ways that past Christians believed He worked. I still have not a clue as to what any of it means, but I'm working on it. Now I'm doing a project on C.S. Lewis, and learning more about my faith than I care to admit. It's much too much for me to write down, type down, or whatever.

Basically, my life is going the way I wanted it to, but I'm not really getting to enjoy it. I'm doing everything right, but not reaping benefits that I was sure would be the result of hard work and determination.

My dad and mom said they'd never lie to me... why do I feel like I've been betrayed?

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Tonight I Wanna Cry

And I wanna cry hard. I've become sick of my emotions. Sick of the fact that they have a mind of their own and that I will never gain control over them. And dang it, I want that control. I want to say, "No, you can't feel that way about him, because someone else does, and he probably feels the same way about her. Not to mention that someone else is a good friend, and you care about her dearly," and the feelings I have for this guy would just go away. But no, I'm stuck with the overwhelming inability to breathe whenever I'm around him. My heart breaks every time I see him with her, knowing that he probably has feelings for her, too. I want to tell him, but I want her to tell him how she feels first, because that way their relationship could be or not. As much as it's shattering my heart to want them to be happy, it's what I want. They could be perfect for each other, they could not, I may just be insane, but I want her to be happy before me. Besides, is it really that big a deal that I'll go through guy number... geez, I lost count. I've liked so many guys who didn't feel the same way about me, I've lost count. That's pathetic. So is it really that big a deal that yet another guy hasn't liked me back? I guess not, but I guess I've never felt this strongly for someone before. I'm older, more mature, and know the difference between physical attraction and attraction on an emotional level. I don't deny that this guy is attractive, but... it was his personality that really attracted me to him. He's a sweetheart, and I don't think there's anything bad about him that I could point out on the spot. But he so obviously likes someone else, I feel like a lost soul in the River Styx of emotion.

I keep finding myself dwelling on the issue of telling him. Would it really hurt that bad if I told him, and he didn't feel that way about me? Well, duh, but does it really matter? Won't I get over it like I normally do? I mean, it's not going to kill me if I find out that he likes her and not me. I was just told today that I'm the kind of person people like to talk to. I'm fun to talk to, and I attract people that way. But... if that's true, then him talking to me isn't as weird as Jordan made it out to be. That's the kind of person I am, so it doesn't surprise me that he likes to talk to me. But talking is the extent of our friendship, I believe. I don't feel comfortable enough asking him if he wants to watch a movie with a group of friends, or anything like that. Which is bad, in my eyes. If you can't feel comfortable hanging out with someone outside of a work-like environment, what potential is there for anything beyond? None. So I'm no one special to him. Just someone he can talk to. I mean, his little brother is awesome. Such a cute kid. And the guy loves him to death. Even bought him a birthday present that he put some real thought into. It warmed my heart to know that siblings have that kind of relationship still. I've even hung out with them on occasion, watching them play games. They're such a close family. I kind of envy them, but not to the extent where I want their family as my own. I'm happy with mine. We get along pretty well now.

I found things that we connect over, though. I played Spit with him once. It's a card game... kind of like a twisted version of Speed Solitaire. I love it, and I'm pretty good. But he kicked my butt in the end. He also likes The Emperor's New Groove, one of my favorite movies of all time. We were showing it at camp, and I was sitting next to him as we watched, and I kept reciting the lines that I still remembered, and he turned to me and said, "You love this, don't you?" I just nodded, completely enthralled in the movie, twirling a sprig of rosemary that I had picked on my way there between my fingers. I love the smell of it, and it keeps me completely at peace and relaxed. On my way there, I had actually ended up walking with him. He, too, loves the smell of rosemary. It's kind of funny. Every time I have it, he wants to smell it. And every time, whether he notices or not, I blush.

But last time I gave it to him to smell, he gave it back to me, and I had to turn away, because I actually started crying. Idiot me decided to tell the other girl that I liked him, and that I didn't think I had a chance with him. And I'm convinced I don't now. But I cried long and hard that night. In the same room as him. He didn't notice, and I doubt he'd have thought I was crying over him. But I cried. And it felt terrible. It was the first time crying didn't alleviate my pain. It made it worse.

So what am I going to do about all of this? Nothing. Absolutely, positively nothing. I'm going to sit back and watch the first guy I've had legitimate feelings for in over a year slip into the hands of another girl, because I feel too guilty to tell him how I feel. I hate myself for it, but I can't do that to her. Never. Not in a million years.

I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show
And I thought that being strong meant never losing your self control
But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain
To hell with my pride
Let it fall like rain from my eyes

Tonight I wanna cry.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Emotions Are And Always Will Be...

... the bane of my existence. Big time. My emotions are in hyper drive, which is not a good thing. I mean, I don't mind them, especially when I'm super in tune with them, but it's not a good thing when you start:

a) Liking a guy you have absolutely no chance with

b) Liking a guy one of your friends likes

c) Arguing things when you have no chance of dissuading the other of their opinion

d) Making yourself completely and utterly nuts because you can't bring them under control

OK. There's the list of crap that I'm dealing with. The first two are somewhat combined, mainly because I find myself attracted to two guys. One falls into option 'a', while the other falls in to both options 'a' and 'b'. Now, if I had the guts, I'd put names, but I just can't. I bring this blog up way too much to reveal that much.

Anyhow, both guys are sweet. They're kind, and funny, and all around good people. I just... I know I wouldn't stand a chance with either of them. I'm so lame, and just... awkward. I mean, I can talk to one of them pretty well... in fact, my... feelings... for him just surfaced. And I can't like him... seriously, I shouldn't. Someone else likes him, and she happens to be a good friend of mine, now. I mean, I only met her recently, but she's still a kick butt friend, and I wouldn't want to lose her over a guy. I asked her, hypothetically, how she would feel if she found out someone else liked him, and she said she might be upset. Even the possibility makes me upset.

I'm going to point out that I described their personalities. That doesn't mean I don't find them attractive, because I do, but that's not what I look for in a guy. I look for a fun loving, outgoing guy, who loves to be active (even though I don't). I love a musically inclined guy, but usually I want funny first, talented second. So, if he's a total tard when it comes to music, he's still great. Looks come in at about ten. Hence my attraction to Jackson, Brandon, Dan... jeez, if I bring that jerk up, I'll probably implode from the stress.

Yeah, this place definitely has not been the place for finding boys in the past. That's just Dan though. He was a jerk who thought that he could find a girl and get laid... at a Christian camp! Way to go, moron.

Moving on... I hate being here when it comes to guys. They're all so sweet, but my abrasive nature always ends up being the turn off that has them running off to the 'normal' girls. I mean, yes, I'm a crazy, nutty, freaky girl... but doesn't that make me more fun? More of a challenge. I'm a virgin... OK. That makes me inexperienced. I've never been kissed, and they all know that. OK. Makes me even more unexperienced.

Is anybody sensing a pattern here.

Guys are afraid that they'll have to deal with the newbie. Alright... maybe. But I doubt it. At least with these guys. I love the people here because they are so nonjudgmental. They don't give a crap if you're a slut or a virgin (though I think it'd be frowned upon to be a slut at Jesus camp). Not that I think that being a slut is a bad thing... well, I don't think premarital sex is a bad thing. As long as you're careful and love who you're doing it with.

Wow, off topic, much, Amanda? Yeah, probably. Well, it's because I'm so freaking physically, mentally, and, above all, emotionally exhausted. I need to figure things out, and I don't think Jordan is going to be of much assistance.

Whoever said emotions are fleeting needs a swift kick in the pants.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

A Pilgrim Pines State of Mind

Alright, so I'm finally at camp, which is an absolutely wonderful thing. I couldn't be any happier than I am at this very moment. This place is my Disney World. And the greatest thing: I'm completely on my own... getting paid for being happy. I work in the kitchen, which is kind of draining, but a shower and an hour long nap, and I'm happy again. I mean, seriously. Patrick, Albie, Hannah A, Hannah B, Gina, Carolyn, Mary... so many familiar faces have returned, and I feel right at home with them all here. But the new faces are who make it completely worth the while. Hannah J (yes, I know, a lot of Hannahs), Amy, Sarah, and so many others are just wonderful people. I've bonded so well with everyone already, and it's just an amazing feeling.

But that's not why I'm blogging today. It was something that happened today, on my day off. Something that had me on the verge of tears. It was shortly after breakfast, and I had to go to a silly little meeting for food service. Afterwards, I went back to the lodge, where child care was taking place. I wasn't planning on going in, and my urge to do so was lessened further by the incessant screaming of one of the children. I thought she was just fussing because one of the boys took her toy. But then I heard it: "MOMMY!" I almost ran right in there, but I saw Hannah A, one of my bosses, taking care of it. However, fifteen minutes later, she came out, and the girl was still screaming as she shut the door. It was breaking my heart, and I hated that the girl felt that way because she was missing her mom. So, instead of avoiding the child like she was the plague, I went in and immediately walked over to her.

I knelt down behind her, and started trying to comfort her. I ran my hand along her back, like you would a baby when they cry, and said absolutely nothing. Then, five, maybe ten minutes (I lost track of time) later, I asked her if she wanted a hug... and I was floored. She turned around and wrapped her arms around my neck. She was still sniffling and crying a little bit, but the sobs were fewer and far between. I picked her up and sat on the couch with her in my lap. Every time Sarah, one of the girls in child care, opened the door, Jessi (the little girl I was holding) would turn and check: obviously looking to see if it was her mother. It was breaking my heart to see her so desperate to see her mom. I kept rubbing her back reassuringly, trying to keep her relaxed, because I didn't want her to start crying again. When I checked her face for signs of tears fifteen minutes later, I realized the most incredible thing: she had fallen asleep.

A little later on, I tried to lay her down on the couch, but she latched her arms around my neck in a death grip, so I decided to just let her stay in my lap. For about an hour I sat on that couch, Jessi sleeping in my lap, I myself beginning to nod off due to the exhaustion I was feeling from working three days in a row. I didn't fall asleep, but I came close. But what surprised me even more that I was ready to cry. I was so emotionally overwhelmed by the fact that I was able to successfully comfort a child into a quiet slumber. As I type this, I feel the same thing. My eyes are burning, and the tears are welling up. But, I won't cry. Dinner is soon! I just... I love the feeling that I got when she warmed up to me. And Sarah and Krista (the other girl in child care), kept reminding me of that. I think I should talk to someone about it, but I probably won't. I'm not vain about it... I'm just so proud. My heart swelled for the first time since last summer.

I'm finally happy again.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Blast From The Past

Have you ever had those moments? The ones where you just want to go back to when you were younger, more carefree? Where life wasn't such a serious thing? Ever crave that feeling of nostalgia that makes that possible? Well, lately, I have. It's been hectic, lately, at my house. Moving out of my mother's house and into my father's has been hell. Basically, this was a phone conversation with my sister after I finally did the deed.

Megan: So are you still planning on working at the Pines this summer?
Me: Yeah.
Megan: Well, I hope you know how you're getting there, because you're not gonna embarrass me and mom with your shit.
Me: *click*

It's like, seriously? I'm embarrassing them? That's crap. I moved out because it was beginning to dawn on me that my mother and I are poison for each other. We can't go a full twenty four hours without fighting, which is just plain wrong. If I had stayed fully in contact with them, we would've either killed each other or embarrassed the hell out of ourselves. Not to mention Megan is probably going to start bitch rumors about me, because that's the kind of person she seems to have become. I mean, I love my sister. God knows that I can't help that. But that doesn't mean I have to like her. It's a common misconception. Just because they're family, and you have to love them as such, it does not mean that you have to like them. And, to be honest, sometimes I just want to kick her in the shin.

So now I'm living with my dad. He told me yesterday what Megan had said to him when she called, when she had found out that I was moving. We were trying to keep it a secret from my mother, because God only knows what she would've done if we hadn't. But when Megan found out, it was because I was an idiot and put my stupid letter to my mother on the arm of the chair I was sitting in. When she saw it, she picked it up and read it. Then she asked if I was moving. I decided not to lie.

Stupid, stupid move.

She then proceeded to call my father and tell him that he's an unfit parent and that he should know that, and that I should be living with him. I almost called her and bitched to her, because my father is a better man than the rest of my family makes him out to be. He's no longer the drugged up bastard who ditched his kids when they needed him most. He now is a man who gives a damn and will do whatever it takes to make life better for his children. I wanted to tell her that, slap her in the face, beat her until she understood that our father is not a bastard. But I couldn't. I couldn't yell at her, or hurt her. And I'll be damned if I ever get that angry ever again.

Now sometimes I wonder how I became the only person in my family to see that my father changed. I guess it's because I'm the only one who spent enough time with him. The only one who wanted to spend time with him. Megan was too selfish and engrossed in her own life to give a rat's ass about my father. She spent the weekends he decided to come, and was never affected by him skipping out. I always noticed. I couldn't help but notice. He was my father, and I loved him, and I wanted to see him. How she became so blind to the pain he caused is lost on me. I only forgave him because I saw him trying. I saw the effort he was putting into his parenting. So, I guess that's how I am different from everyone else. But their ignorance still pisses me off. It's almost painful... no, it is painful to hear them talk bad about my father, when he's been trying his best to be a better father.

And he is a better father.

Oh well, whatever. I'm out of my mother's house, and living with my father. I'm happy here. It's safe, and I get along better with the people I live with. Not to mention I have at least eight companions at all times. Granted, I can't talk to them... but they are fun to play with. I love all animals of the feline persuasion.

But when I spoke of going back to the past... it was silly me being random. I mean, I did, lately. That craving for nostalgia was so strong, and it only grew worse when none other than Megan showed me the Evolution of Dance video on YouTube. I couldn't help but think of how funny it was. And the music that the guy used had me wondering: Why haven't I listened to this stuff lately? It had been so long since I listened to the Backstreet Boys or N*Sync, I decided to look up some of their stuff. Now (and I damn it to hell) I can't stop listening to them. I have Larger Than Life constantly stuck in my head, as well as Bye, Bye, Bye. Not that I mind all the time. It used to be my favorite music. But then I discovered The Who and thought I was over the others. But now I find that I am wrong.

As I listened to their songs (and it didn't matter what it was: popular songs, not so popular songs, etc.) I realized I still knew pretty much all of the words. And when Bringin' Da Noise from the No Strings Attached album came on, I had another flashback, almost immediately, to the old Disney Channel Movies. Y'know, like Smart House and Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century? Well, this particular memory was tied to The Other Me. I loved that movie, and was surprised at how long it had been since I'd seen, let alone thought, about it. So, I then looked that movie up on YouTube, and lo and behold, there were some clips from it. I was so excited, I nearly had a heart attack. It had the scene I loved, that featured the aforementioned N*Sync song, so I was incredibly happy. That made the nostalgia craving die down, and I've been pretty much sated since. Except, I can't freaking get Larger Than Life out of my head.

06/08/08
Amanda

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Hate Is A Loaded Word

Four letters. H-A-T-E. And yet it can mean so little or so much. It really is a loaded word. Many people don't understand the significance of this word. Mainly because it means different things to different people. To me, it means to wish upon someone the worst possible pain, to suffer the worst possible punishment that mankind can think up. In my mind, I find it impossible to feel that way about anyone, let alone imagine how another person could possibly feel that way. But then I see the state of the world around me. Lawrence King, only fourteen when he was gunned down by a classmate, just because he asked him to be his valentine. Matthew Shepard, lured from a bar, beaten into unconsciousness and left to die, tied to a fence. Gwen Araujo, killed by friends when they found out that she was really a he. Brandon Teena, raped and eventually murdered because he was actually Teena Brandon. Seventy one women, all prostitutes, murdered by a man who had this crazy idea that it was O.K. to do it. Twenty two of their bodies were never found. Twenty three families, maybe more, unable to bury their dead daughters because the sick bastard forgot where they were buried. I watch accounts of these stories and dozens, possibly hundreds of others, and get sick to my stomach. How does someone come to hate a person so much that murder becomes the only option? Or do they really hate this person? Is it hate or fear that motivates them to their ultimate decision to kill?

I've done a lot of thinking over the course of my nineteen years of life. Most of my thoughts focused on this in the past two. It had a lot to do with my role as an ally in the GLBT community. Once I made friends that were gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgendered, I began to see a side of humanity that I'd been sheltered from for most of my life. People are persecuted not only for race or religion, but for who they love. The biggest oxymoron of them all. Hating love. Isn't that just a peachy way for Americans to live their lives? Hating something so beautiful and natural?

I don't know. I want to go into more depth on this, but it just gets me so riled up, I can't think straight for more than a few moments. I want to write this, but I"m not going to. I'll elaborate when I see fit. But... not right now.

06/03/08
Amanda

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Revelations

Oh, dear. My brother just got home from school (which is all the way across the country) and I have yet to say hello to him. Don't ask me why, it's complicated. I love my brother to death, so it doesn't make sense that I'm not downstairs going, "OMG YOU'RE HOME!" *pounce* I mean, seriously, people, he's my brother! It's like, "Hey, what's up?" I'm not the most likely to greet someone the second they come to the house. I mean, if it were my sister-in-law, I'd be all over that. "Hey, Brooke! How are you? How's the baby doing?" I mean, I haven't even seen her since the wedding. She's starting to show, pregnancy wise, and I can't wait for the baby to start kicking. I can't wait for the baby to be born, for Pete's sake. I'm gonna have a nephew! But... the people that have been there my entire life, my brothers, sisters, parents... they're the people I don't really have a strong reaction to. But when it's someone that I've just begun to care about, I do my best to keep that relationship strong, fresh. I care about Brooke deeply, because she makes my brother happy, and she cares about the rest of my family, despite the fact that we've been nothing but insane when she's around. She's seen the reality of my family, and still wants to be a part of it. That relieves me, because it proves that my family isn't entirely hopeless.

The picture of us at the wedding is hanging in our living room now. I choke up every time I see it, because it rests under a picture of Sarah and her former fiancé, Andy. To see a happy moment, captured forever in a silver frame, depicting myself, Laura, Adam, Jeremy, my mother, and Megan, standing neatly in a row, nestled comfortably under the couple that could never be again, it makes me cringe. I won't dare tell my mother this, because it will make her think of it. It's not fair to her. She doesn't need to have a marvelous occasion such as her son getting married marred by the overactive brain of her daughter. I can't keep doing that to her.

I've found myself diving into the world of fan fiction even further as the time passes from the finales of my favorite shows. I think the worst thing that happened, though, was when one character was killed off on a show I love. But after I realized how serious my reaction was, I thought to myself, 'You're sick... that reaction wasn't healthy, and you know it. You need to get your head out of the clouds and back to reality. It's the only way you're going to change the way you are into what you want to be." These crazy revelations have been happening a lot lately, and it makes me wonder if I've known it all along. I mean, Cassie pointing out my unhealthy obsession with CSI caused a huge rift in our friendship, but now we're good again. I think, when we settled our differences, I had subconsciously admitted that she was right. And now, moving away from that obsession, I realize how terribly lost I was without it. It was pathetic. I think what I needed to do was put more living, breathing people into my life to fill this massive void I created when my life revolved around CSI. For just one moment, I need to step back and review what I've done with my life these past nine months. Then I need to fix it. I messed up, and I need to repair the damage that I caused.

05/22/08
Amanda