i am not the problem, solution, OR conversation, yet i'm the one left dodging bullets. i am not angry, i am just stunned, and hurt. my intentions were never murky, they were crystal clear. i didn't intend to make anyone angry. i am just left living my life, which is the best i can do. today i officially became one of the unemployed too. give it a few weeks, and it will be a much more desperate thing. as for now, i think i feel okay about it. i still haven't pierced my nose, or permed my hair, but i've taken up an interest in rings.

the snow is beautiful these days. funny thing, it was disgusting last year. i never wanted it, and now i soak in every minute. yesterday we walked to the park in a half-blizzard and made a mess of the new snow. what a good feeling. God is good.

today a man came in with his girlfriend and spoke the weirdest language i ever heard. southpark better never get a hold of it, because it sure worked out well for them..but gawl, it sounded like nazi's trying to sing a kid song. how strange. he criticized the corporation and called everything a fake, but he was just trying to be a brat in front of his girlfriend. they told me she was from holland, which really ruined the fun. he told me he could hook me up with some alcohol when i went to uvsc too, but i guess that's irrelevant because i don't care. she kept telling him to shut up and he walked around with our shirt on for about an hour. they were pretty sympathetic about me getting laid off..with words along the lines of 'those effers' (i'm too ladylike sometimes..)\ and 'shit man'. so was the other man, who tried to explained to me how to get unemployment..forever. and then there was mr. gypsys, who said he could track with me because of a gypsy show on tv.

sometimes i think i'll miss these people everyday.

it all seemed so well-timed

CONFESSION:
i have never been in love. yes, it is a shock. i've had my heart speed up around certain people, and i've stayed awake all night having conversations. but for some reason i don't consider that love like teenage america does. love is so much more, because love is a verb. love is death, in a sense. true love involves dying to yourself every single day. in a true love relationship, the other persons emotional needs are ALWAYS above yours. i think that is so beautiful, and that i am so willing to wait for that. there are so many misconceptions about love. i am finally starting to have my own opinions. i don't believe in the perfect person, because i don't believe in A perfect person. anyone i meet is going to be broken and selfish like i am. that is a fact of life. i don't believe that love will complete me, because it won't. the only time i am complete is in my God, and that is a beautiful thing. until i feel complete in him, a relationship with anyone else will be a disaster. it's a crazy concept, but i believe it, against my better (or worst) judgement even. right now i don't need love because right now i can't give the love i should. maybe one day i will grow up and it will creep up on me. until then, goodbye fake loves. i don't need you, and you definitely don't need me.


in other words (this is how i described it to a friend doubting the very existence of love):

i believe in love because i believe in God. i don't believe that you will always be happy though..because we live in a broken, dying world that longs for something more. i believe that love is a lot harder than just hearts and kisses..i believe it is a continual battle to die to yourself and put other people first. i struggle so much with questioning it too, sometimes, because people are habitually liars and hard to trust. but i believe, and put my faith in the fact that God will work it out in some crazy way...even if it's not the 'perfect' person people promise us..cause they sure do, but no perfect person exists.

and obviously my body could not take this everyday, because my body is about to collapse.

marley ate my Christmas presents. i guess i shouldn't be surprised, but i'm still disappointed. it's worse when the person has already unwrapped it and seen it. getting them a new one seems cheesy, even. but i'll take what i can get.



i miss summer.

three stages of a weekend in progress

Friday:
welcome home stress; i thought you were gone for good. the water feels so good on nerves. the words echoing through the room, as i repeat them, verbatim: you're the hope of all men, you're the marvel of angels. this is what love is. this is what i get to experience for the rest of my life. i am trying to walk, and you are carrying me. stress has moved on to the guest apartment, and it only comes out when i am not trusting. it moves all the way out when i leave the house. i am alone on a stage. the sound is loud, so loud. everything sounds okay, even with four people that are so different. meet the masses and try not to throw up before God and men. prayer in a cold room is always such a beautiful thing. it does wonders for a nervous soul. the lights are low, and the crowd of three becomes a crowd of almost 200 souls. the set is over in record time, and it feels so good to be alive. we are been sanctified, slowly, painfully, but surely, as sure as anything else i have ever seen. one more song, and it feels like a community. amaretto gelato on a freezing night; undeniably God is good. best friends stick around for david bowie, and junk food, and even 2:30 when you just want to sleep.

Saturday:
sleeping in past 9:30 is such a foreign thing. hot chocolate and snow are a welcome addition to the evenson household. the world is so bright, we open the blinds to see it in all of its glory. the world is in need of more commercials, too, so we all head to the church and forget about jerry lewis. here comes the ipod, and caleb's screaming leaves the group unable to breathe, for a good 3 minutes. sometimes best friends really do have to go home, so we drove up to salt lake and said our goodbyes over chipotle. cabela's was close by. we stopped by and saw all of the dead animals on the walls. hundreds of men with flannel shirts that want nothing more than the coveted red rider bb gun of sorts. it's a mystery to me. home is where the heart is, and it's also where you make soup and pasta. life doesn't happen fast enough. the snow keeps people slow, so at 11 there is a knock on the door, and johnny comes in with wendy's for all. frosties and robot love are a good ending to a good day.

Sunday:
and then there was rest. and baseball. and art. and planning for faithwalkers. we baked muffins and stirfry. oldies were always playing in the background. LOST was never too far off from the real thing, if you catch my drift. eh eh.

hello, do you remember me?
i am almost the feedback in your ears that makes you cringe.
i am that vague idea you had yesterday.
i am that cowboy song that you hear on the radio.
i am maybe even the one that you love, but i'm not wishing that on you or on me.

how about the indecisiveness, did you forget about that too?
did you forget that i can't make up my mind?
did you forget that i get stressed out?
did you forgeting that i don't know how i should feel?

i guess you forgot that i didn't want you to remember me, either.



i haven't been able to say the right words for a few weeks, and it's really starting to take its toll.

i just have that digusting feeling inside of me, and i know that it's real when paul says that our soul is in a constant battle. the things i want to do, i don't, and the things i don't want to do, those are the things that i do. i guess i miss the innocence, but not the ignorance, is all. God can still save a wretch like me. that is all i need to hold onto anymore.

and, really, i think i am going through my 'shy away from people' phase. are we all supposed to have those?


i am a stress case.