no wonder...

No wonder teenagers have a reputation for being rebellious and angry.
Adulthood (such as I know it, anyway) is a rude awakening.
Wouldn't you be angry too?

Of course, I know that that's not the whole of it. It's about other things as well, like becoming your own person. But, well... this is how I see it right now.
Children are protected, made to believe they are special. No one criticizes them or ignores them, or tells them how little they really matter in the world. No, most children are the apple of someone's eye. So when they grow into the realization that, apple of that person's eye or not, their world so far has been all smiles and indulgences and kid gloves, and that they've left that world and are forbidden re-entry...
Wouldn't you be angry too?

what's weird about birthdays

what's weird about birthdays isn't the fact of passing the mark of a year, becoming numerically speaking a year older.
what's weird about birthdays is trying to figure out what to do with them. for two reasons.
1. generally people are taught to at least preTEND to be humble. so how does one act graciously in the face of all the birthday wishes and congratulations and open demonstrations of affection?
2. people are also generally taught not to openly express huge amounts of affection or appreciation for others. it's just not something we do on a regular basis. it's ok when it's a holiday like christmas or thanksgiving or something, where the entire society is geared up to be more loving toward one another. but when all that affection and attention is turned toward YOU, Emily Jane Leigh of Nowheresville Kentucky (pardon, Kentuckians, but I have to pick somewhere) it's somewhat... disconcerting.
now, whenever one of my friends expresses the wish to be ignored on their birthday, i am immediately up in arms. it's a day when others get to celebrate you, i say. they are reminded to think about how you have affected their lives, and how happy (or otherwise, but hopefully happy) they are that you're alive. It's a time for your loved ones to celebrate your birth. The idea being, that the celebration isn't so much for the person being celebrated as it is for those celebrating.
that's a nice line, and fully true when it's other people's birthdays. that is, in fact, part of why i like celebrating people's birthdays. but, when it comes to my own... well. it feels like a different matter entirely. (the cyinic in me says, of course it does.)
at any rate. in case you hadn't guessed, my birthday's coming up. it's an odd number, but that's all i'll tell you. not 'cause i'm lying about my age, but because this is the ineternet. who knows who could be snooping around?

over 'n out.
E.O.

Streetcars and Ironies

Today was a momentous day. I saw Star Trek for the second time. Still love it. And James T. Kirk still reminds me of a guy I know, John W. Which strikes me as really strange, but there you have it. I also went on a wild goose chase through the city with a friend of mine, trying to find the house where the meeting we wanted to go to was being held. I think I saw more of the city today than I have all year, and we certainly did some seriously poor navigating. :P We had fun though, getting lost and conversing for the first time in two weeks - which felt like forever for two reasons. One, we lived across from each other for about 9 months, and so were constantly in one another's lives, and two, I've not been around peers for a full two weeks - except for that one trip to the movies last week. So, despite the fact that we wandered around the city for two hours peering at streets, and saying things like "I feel like we should turn left here, don't you?" or "Hey, this looks familiar!" (which was almost inevitably followed by "...I'm pretty sure we've never been here." or, later on, "if you say 'that looks familiar' one more time...!" and "now I KNOW that wasn't on the way back to Uni." :P); despite all this, we had a pretty good time. The city was beautiful in the sunset, and we discovered some quaint little roads, and laughed a lot. :) Why this always seems to happen to me in cities, I couldn't tell you. But I'm sure some of you readers can attest to the fact that I can get lost absolutely ANYwhere, and have been with me on multiple occasions, eh, Annalisa?
In fact, I got lost in my own area just yesterday. As I think about it, it occurs to me that I've gotten turned around - which is a eupemism for lost - 4 times this week. And each time my mom has proved to be a veritable knight in shining armour, riding in with Google maps and her excellent navigation skills to save the day!
The moral of the story? Never send me out anywhere without at LEAST two sets of directions on how to get there, and at least one map, and the phone number of someone who knows the area. That is, unless I've been wherever you're sending me multiple times before. :P
Oh, and the title is from a song of Chris Rice's that I found the other day with the help of a friend, and which is running 'round my head. Here's a link, if you'd like to hear it. :) I know now that the actual title is "Punchlines and Ironies," but for some reason my brain insterted "streetcars" instead. Must be all the city scenery from today.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQ5SeObCybo

All Quiet on the Southern Frontier

And on the subject of prayer, and since there's no news to speak of, I thought i'd share with you something that occurred to me during church today.
so at my parent's church, there is a pastor. Normal, you say, most churches do. Well, at this church they have a - special - way of praying. The pianist plays sweet, albeit intermittent notes/chords as the pastor or youth pastor prays. Now, the senior pastor has this habit of imitating the piano, namely, pausing in random places. Apparently the idea is to let the congregation ponder what he just said, or add their own pleas. But all too often he'll stop after saying something like "and we pray that you- *silence* - in all your great wonder..."
Now, I don't know if you pray a lot, but the basic idea is that his pauses are unpredictable and not necessarily connected with any sort of meaning in the prayer. They're just there for effect.
And today it occurred to me that it's entirely possible that, 10, 15 years from now, when he's a bit older, this same guy will be praying up there, and the poor man will have a heart attack and stop talking... and NO ONE will notice. For a good three minutes, at least.
A somewhat irreverent thought to have during prayer, but well... there it is.
May your prayers be sincere, and your silences, if they exist, full of God's presence.

Space

I learned early on in life that, when you leave a place, things move on.
Moving away and back to one place and another various times, I caught on pretty quickly.
So why does this surprise me?
People's lives expand to fill the spot you left empty. I know that.
There are those rare people who keep a little space for you. Even if you move away, and they move on, and you travel through years of time and aeons of experiences, they are able to welcome you back. But even these people don't manage it perfectly. When you come back, both parties have invariably changed. It's inevitable.
So why did I think that my family would be an exception?
There is literally no room for my things in my house anymore. I have to move my sister's stuff to be able to unpack. Emotionally, there is more room. The three of them got much closer this year, but they still welcome me back. What's weird in that department is that they expect me not to have changed. Oh, they know that I have. But they don't know how, so they treat me as if I haven't and wait to see where I've grown new corners that don't fit the old grooves.
I guess I can't blame them. But I feel... shoved back into the past. And the past is gone. It has no space for the present.

Reflection

The other night I prayed. I prayed for Godis, whose heart has just been finally squished after a long twisting and tearing. Afterwards, I fell silent, and listened. I tried to think of other things to say to God, but I felt like it was better to be quiet. After a couple minutes, I overcame that feeling and kept praying.... it felt like I was awkwardly trying to end a conversation, like when I'm done talking to someone, but courtesy demands I stay and say more polite nothings. It was odd, because usually I don't feel like God's listening very hard to what I have to say.
Then, tonight in church, the speaker said something. What if, when we prayed, it were like a real conversation? Like, we started, and God gave us the assurance that he loved us, and then we just... talked. Were able to ask God questions and have him answer, just like that. He said that so often, it seems like we break off the conversation right after God starts communicating, and related it to a conversation in which one person came up and said "Hi, how's it going? I'm so glad to see you!" and the other "I'm glad to see you too! I'm so happy you're here!" and then the first person just walked away. He cited 1 Samuel 21, with David and the ephod and everything. And I wondered, after the other night- would that really be possible? I don't know if I'm to the level of being able to have a real conversation with him yet, but... could we? Could I?
And then he talked about God's desire to be desired, sought out by us. He talked about how our tendency to quit praying as soon as we had God's sweet reassurance of his love and presence might make Him wait to answer us, in order to enjoy our seeking him. It reminded me of something by C.S. Lewis that I'd read a couple days ago, from Screwtape Letters, about how God lets us have dry times, he lets his presence fade from our lives because the times when we don't feel him, and yet still struggle to obey him (seek him) are the times that please him most. After all, who doesn't want to feel desired? Now, I'm not sure how theologically founded that viewpoint is, but the three things spread out over several days came together in my mind, and I feel like it's God teaching me, somehow.
So, I wish to attempt to seek God out and converse with him. As crazy as that may sound.
E.O.

Atmosphere

Outside I hear thunder close by and rain on the trees. The light from the window is gray, and the air cool. in the kitchen, the light and music are warm. The wooden table is covered with my books and notes - chemistry once again. The exam is in three days, and my studying is going apace. Strewn between the calculator and textbook are some colorful m&m's to help keep me from falling into frustration.
It is Saturday. It is Beautiful.
E.O.

Plain.

I've been granted a revelation. In my group of friends here there are a couple people who, if you ask them for honesty, have no qualms about giving it to you.
You know how groups of people have customs? Quirks that are particular to a group, things that are acceptable within it, but not really in general society? Well, in our group, one of these quirks is making observations about people's character. Direct and honest observations. So today, A once again said something about my personality... and I went for it. These opportunities don't come often in life. I said that I wondered, what they really thought of me, because I didn't understand, sometimes, where the things they said were coming from. And to my utter surprise, the gamble worked. I got an honest answer.
My friends think I am plain.
Not in experience or knowledge, but in taste: food, clothing, likes and dislikes. Plain.
A couple people tried to soften the word, but I asked them, because I hate such political correctness,not to. Plain: that was the general consensus. And if I am to be honest, if this is the opinion that other people hold, it would explain why so many people seem indifferent to me after about 5 minutes of conversation. Oddly... it makes sense. I do not hold people's interest for more than a short while. And if I do, it almost always feels like it's more out of charity or obligation than anything else (excepting one or two close friends from years back).
So this leads me to wonder- is it true? After all my striving to be different, to stand apart from the mindless crowd, have I become simply... boring? My intuition tells me it's quite possible. The thought really disappoints me, because I never wanted to be overlookable. When i said, when people asked that superhero question, that the superpower I wanted was invisibility, I didn't think that I might get my wish. Passionless, without that joie de vivre that touches people, without loves, without aspirations or intensity. I am again faced with the fact that there's nothing in this life that pulls on me, a love that demands that I be and lets my personality reflect its light, gives it color. Where are those convictions that make people so interesting to be around?
There is more I could say, but... out of consideration for you, reader, I will simply think. No need for you to have to listen to my disappointment in what all my journeying and wonderful rainbow colors of people and places have produced. It'd be too awkward and embarrassing, I know. I apologize for being - who?
over 'n out.
that other drone,
E.O.