I learned a lot at that little church turned giant. I had some good teachers and I learned some good lessons.
No one ever told me, however, how tricky doing the right thing is. That thin line is blurred so badly that it’s almost invisible. In some places there isn’t even a line anymore. The right and wrong things overlap each other and you can’t just choose a side, you have to navigate the field like it’s full of land mines. Sometimes in order to win the war, you just have to take the best possible route even if it means going through enemy territory. It’s all one fantastic mess out here.
Love is literally the only fail-safe. I think if you break a rule in order to love someone more, you’ve made the right move.
Love is often good because it is the lesser of two evils.
Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. there is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there.
I have an old friend (not old as in aged, old as in she’s been around my life for quite a while) who really thinks I’m cool. I mean really thinks that I hung the moon. Thinks I have life by the horns. Thinks that every cliche meaning- “man, she’s got her shit together” -is true about me.
I’ve told her a million times that those things are not necessarily true. Instead of me grabbing life by the horns, I think life has grabbed me by the (metaphorical) balls. She thinks I am invincible and courageous and strong and powerful and wise. And sometimes she reads my journal and is confused by the person writing in it because, as she sees it, that is not me.
I’m not really sure who is more correct. Maybe I’m just a wuss who puts on a brave face, but is actually an insecure weeping little girl. Or maybe I’m a lioness who feigns weakness in order to surprise her victims.
Maybe she can’t really see the coward in me because she has a veil over her eyes that makes me look strong.
Or maybe I can’t really see the viking in me because I mistakenly convince myself I’m not one.
It takes a silly kind of confidence for one to admit he is a fool or a child. Not the same kind that it takes to grow up or wise up. Unless it is used as the first step to that process. But oftentimes in the however-many-step-to-recovery system; we spend far too long admitting, almost gleefully, that we have a problem. In fact, more often than not, that admission once repeated becomes more of a mantra than a muttered mistake. We start to find comfort in the confession of our dirty deeds. We begin to take pride in the acknowledgment of our flawed identity. We cease to change and we accept our shortcomings, claiming eventually that this is just who we are.
I am a selfish writer in that what I write for others usually ends up being for myself. This prose is my for instance.
Sometimes I feel like the things I need to say are too big to write down. Like a pen can’t really capture a thought; like a sentence can’t really say what I feel.
And then I remember these silly little words are all I have.
My mind has been tangled up in war recently. I have this inner struggle between being repulsed by war and being in love with soldiers. Peace is the thing my soul cries out for, while my mind is aware that war will never end. I hate that war exists, but I love that there are soldiers who fight in my place.
"And even if the wars didn’t keep coming like glaciers, there would still be plain old death." K.V. Slaughter-house 5
I should probably just go to bed. As an old fool I used to know once said, “The only kind of thinking people do this late at night is stinkin’ thinkin’.”
I was looking for something on an old flash drive of mine. Didn’t find what I was searching for, but that didn’t stop me from finding many other things.
I listened to Sarah Harmer sing Uniform Grey and in my mind I heard Trista Moser (not yet Lamb) standing on stage singing the words…”Well it was kinda hard to pull away. He said ‘Buck up baby, it’s okay. The sunlight on the floor will always fall.’” I see her standing on stage at Teegarden’s Center for the Arts, a makeshift area of all kinds of expression that we formed with a teacher back in high school. We had the only stoplight in town, you know. Anyway, I see her singing her skinny little heart out. I see her courage and hear her sweet voice soothing me before it’s my turn to get onstage and rip my heart open for my peers and mentors. She and Sarah Harmer calmed me before I read poetry about socks and feeling rejected.
Two and a half months of half-assed dieting has only gained me 2 pounds. I’m okay with that. It’s been a good few months. On that note, John and I started our running program last night. It’s nice to have a partner and a motivation. It has to be slightly embarrassing for him to basically be jogging alongside his girlfriend who is running her heart out and panting like an oversized dog. But he says he’s okay with it, so I guess I am too.
I like running. It makes me feel strong. I am strong. I like to feel that way.
John wants to lose 13 pounds total. I want to lose roughly an 8 year old child. I think he’ll beat me to goal. :)
I won a cruise the other day. Missy and I are going in December. (Yes. I won a cruise. I knew drinking all those Bud Light’s would eventually pay off.) I’ve never wanted December to be here so badly.
I wrote this poem. It’s inspired by my favorite band this month Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero’s. Give them a listen; you won’t be sorry.
there’s a deep deep itch inside my soul a yearning too far down for anyone to know a feeling i should run (just get up and go) it’s pushing and clawing its way up from below
I have, in 3 months, lost 16.9 pounds. So I’m rounding up…
I’ve lost 17 pounds!
I have never lost, consecutively, more than 19.2 pounds. This is a time for me to re-evalutate my thoughts about the whole thing and really push forward. I have been excercising more than ever before, but now I really want to get that going hardcore. I don’t just want to lose weight by eating well…I want to tone my body.
I’m going, super randomly and super cheaply, to the beach in mid-May. John and I have basically never been anywhere together so this trip will mean a lot to us. And HONESTLY? I want to be jaw-dropping in my swimsuit. I mean, like make him wish were weren’t waiting til we get married to have sex. haha. That might be a bit much, but truly. I want to look goooood. :)
You know what would help? If you-any and all of you-called me and invited me over for super healthy suppers and/or wanted to go for a long walk with me on a pretty evening. And if you don’t, you can just sit back and watch the pounds fall off, my lovelies.
It’s almost 4 am, which for me means that sleep is the furthest thing from my mind.
I’m listening to a million different versions of the song I’ll Fly Away on youtube right now and not one of them sounds as sweet as that song sounded from my Papaw’s kitchen when I was tapping enough toes for Mamaw and me both.
I think if we all did each thing like it was the last time we might ever get the chance to do it, we’d end up with a lot less regrets.
I hate to type this because I’m afraid I’ll jinx it, but at the same time I’m getting to the point where I usually break down and need support to stay in the game anyway…so here goes.
I’ve lost 12.4 pounds so far!
I’ve been working on this for 6 weeks now, so it’s been a pretty steady 2 pound a week loss. That makes me happy because it’s significant enough that I know I’m doing a good job on a weekly basis, but is also a small enough number that I know I’m being healthy about it.
But really. You do owe me a coke zero. I live for that stuff.
Super Bowl ads. This year companies bought an additional three minutes of advertising space compared to last year, making this year’s ads the longest in Super Bowl history. I watched a good bit of the game and TV spots, but wasn’t all that impressed. Now’s not the time to waste money and not impress/shock, people. I did, however, like the Google ad that apparently has been available for your viewing pleasure since November. I thought it was appropriate and sold the search engine, or maintained the brand image at least, because it spoke to the viewers. The TV spot guided us through a series of searches, telling a love story. It was quick but intriguing and kept my attention mainly because the searches and usage behavior was similar to the way we (the target) navigate google. And how timely with V-Day and all.
I’m not breaking out into a catchy party song. I just felt a lot today. Sometimes I like PMS or having a beer too many or staying up until I’m delirious because those things often force me into deep thought and make me feel the things I try to not feel most of the time. Not to be a Debbie Downer, but in the midst of all the wonderful things life has to offer there is also plenty to get upset about. Injustice in the streets both here and abroad. Monotony that begs for my escape when I know I have to stay. Sorrow that fills my heart with memories of loved ones lost both recently and long ago. Fear of the future and the unknown and pain. Problems in my psyche that are buried so deep that they may never be truly overcome. Just these things. These things that don’t define my days or my life, but do at times demand my attention for a little while.
I think it’s good to let yourself feel these things every now and then as long as we don’t get caught up in them. It’s the bitter that helps us appreciate the sweet.
I seriously want to get out of here. I want to kick the tires and light the fires. I want to pack up my favorite t-shirts and an extra pair of jeans in my leather atlas suitcase. I want to get all my money out in cash and stuff it in my wallet. I want to bring my suitcase of old journals and a book or two that I’m reading. I want to drive alone and learn every word to every song Bob Dylan ever wrote. I want to meet people and become best friends suddenly then leave town the next day. I want to sleep in stranger’s spare beds and on their couches, but somehow feel really at home. I want to drive all day and get out of the car in a totally different climate. I want to help people by just giving them a fresh outlook on their problems. I want to be helped by people who look at my problems with new eyes and hearts. I want to go out for drinks and charm all the people I’m with because they don’t know me or if my stories are true. I want to wave my arms and raise my voice and tell all the people working so hard for no reason that they need to relax. When they calm down, I want to tell them in a hushed voice that they just need to stop. Stop running and rushing and worrying. Just breathe. Cry really hard if you need to. Laugh really hard if you want to. Love really hard because you have to. You just have to. If you don’t love…if you don’t love who you are and who you’re with and what you’re doing, then life is really nothing. In the end, if you don’t take the risk of loving, it all is really nothing.
1. I can be pretty hysterical at times…at least to myself.
2. Even to the people who really really love/like me, I’m still pretty obnoxious most of the time.
3. My out of control weight gain/loss. I seriously can’t just get fat or slim down. I’ve lost 6.1 pounds in the last 2 weeks, but I live in constant fear that I will give up again. First, because I am pretty lazy about things like that. Second, because I like food & beer & coke..a cola. Third, because I look pretty darn good for someone who is obese. I would say I’m working it. Oh well, though. Here we go again Kirstie!
Earlier, I watched Hoarders. I was so motivated, all I could think about was cleaning the house. I am housesitting currently and tomorrow is cleaning day. I had never been more excited.
Then, I watched the Vikings/Bears game and I constantly kept a watch on ESPN.com, only to finally win in the semi-finals of the fantasy football league I’m in. I celebrated as if I’d been super-invested in the downfall of the Vikings all year.
Afterward, I watched some Friends and Family Guy, etc. Suddenly the urge to clean is gone, but the urge to drink coke and watch more television is overwhelming.
Ok, so I had a Christmas Eve meltdown, but Christmas was just perfect enough to make up for it. John got me a digital camera and a weekend trip to Louisville. (Isn’t that weird, Brooke?) I am seriously so excited! We always have so much fun when we get away from the world for a while. Oh, and also 6 white roses that were absolutely beautiful and so big.
I got lots of other amazing goodies and wonderful things from both my family and John’s family, but most importantly I got to see everyone and spend time eating, laughing and loving with them. Not to be totally corny, but I really think that’s what Jesus had in mind for his birthday celebration.
I had a pretty good night tonight with John’s Grandma, mom, etc. It really was fun. However, on the way home to spend the rest of Christmas Eve by myself, I seriously cried. Unbelievable.
I always knew I was very lucky to have Patricia Yvonne (Lea) Galloway as my momma, but I never really knew how lucky until tonight. Growing up wasn’t the easiest thing at times and our family certainly had our fair share of problems. However, Momma always made Christmas amazing. We’d stay up late on Christmas Eve just the two of us and light the tree in the dark. Drinking either hot chocolate or egg nog, we’d sit in its multi-colored glow and read her ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas book from 1968 (when she was eight years old.) She’d change a lot of what it said to make me laugh and we’d giggle until it was time to write a note to Ol’ St. Nick and leave out a snack for him. Then she’d rush me off to bed with an ominous warning that Santa would know if I was still awake. (The best part of this is that we still did this exact tradition…even up to last year. Granted, I’ve been in the know about the real goings on of Christmas Eve for a while now, but we always thought it was a hoot to pretend a little still and laugh our heads off.) The next morning, I would always wake up early and excited (although “early” has become increasingly later over the years.) There are always more presents under the tree than there should be or than “Santa” could even afford when we were younger. Nonetheless, we’d open them up one by one in a circle around the room and play Christmas Basketball with our wrapping paper by shooting it into a paper bag in the middle of the room.
Fun. It was always so much fun. I guess that I just never really thought about how much love was involved with the whole thing. I felt it, ya know? But it’s that whole “ya don’t know what ya got til it’s gone” thing. Sitting alone in my stupid Dayton apartment on Christmas Eve just makes me wish so badly I was snug in bed back in Berlin, warmed by a real fireplace, trying to go to sleep so that Santa would come.
I can’t wait to get back home tomorrow. I geniunely miss my Mommy and I don’t care who knows it! And you know what else? I miss my Poppa Bear and my Dustbunny too!
John’s birthday is on the 22nd and we’re going out with tons of friends tonight to celebrate. I absolutely love celebrating people who mean a lot to me. I like that tonight is a night where everyone involved is there to celebrate how great John Lucas Gambill is. I feel like I celebrate that everyday, so it’s nice to have others in on the celebration. :)
When I was a little girl, all I wanted to be was a little boy. I wanted to get dirty and play sports and work with the cows. I didn’t want to shower or wear dresses or put on nail polish. Even at my 8th grade dance and prom, I rebelled against the beautiful dresses and wore outrageous outfits I’d be more comfortable in. Sexuality had nothing to do with it. I wanted to have a boyfriend…I just kinda wanted to be one the guys too.
Of course, as I got older I have progressed a bit and learned how to be a lady when the situation demands it. I am proud to be a girl. I think some wonderful parts of me can be attributed to the fact that I have those XX chromosomes. Certianly, I still am not a girly-girl. I usually wear sweats or jeans and t-shirts. I don’t do my hair or make-up unless I’m going out. I carry a wallet. I like sports and fast cars. I prefer to be driving my truck. I like to gig frogs. I like to drink beer. I like to build fires. I like to be friends with guys.
The problem is I forget that in those friendships, I am a girl. Let me put it differently. When I am with John, I feel like a girl. He makes me giggle, makes me emotional, makes me lovey-dovey and all that silly stuff. (Which I like very much. It’s cool that he affects me that way.) However, when I’m hanging out with my boys, my friends, I don’t feel like that girl. I seriously feel like I’m one of the boys…just with bigger boobies. haha. For the most part, I feel like my boy-friends forget it, too. However…I know that their girls don’t feel that way. I’m afraid that my friendship with some guys in my life is threatening to women that I really don’t want to threaten. Keep in mind, these women are beautiful and amazing and I really like them too. I guess I’m just asking for advice. I’m fine with trying my best to follow guidlines that they set up. But I really don’t want to lose any friends over it. Does anyone have any advice on how to be a good friend (even best friend) to the opposite sex without offending anyone?
My right upper and lower arm is super sore because I get too into Wii tennis and can’t swing the remote unless I swing my entire arm. When I backhand , I really backhand. My skills are affecting me and it’s painful.
Yeah. I’m in the exact same boat. I actually hit my friend Maurice really hard in the face with my serve one time. I also feel the need to step toward the ball. It’s becoming clear to me that I can’t grasp the concept of video games. You should see me wii bowl. It looks like I’m throwing a softball. Also, after boxing only one round, I can’t move my arms for three days. True.
I have a problem. I come up with ideas. And then I don’t do anything about them. haha. This idea is for a self-help motivational seminar. Of course, those who know me know that I believe Christ’s help is supreme. However, I also believe He gives us the tools inside ourselves for self-healing. So, this is the outline of the three classes that would be involved and a short annotation of what they will be about. P.S. It’s awesome, in my personal and very professional opinion. :)
Learn who you are. Do things that challenge you. Go places you’ve never been. Talk to people you wouldn’t normally talk to. Talk more in depth with the people you talk to all the time. Make a conscious effort to actually discover how you feel and who you are instead of just going through the motions of life.
Realize that there are a lot of things about yourself that will never change. Appreciate the good things about yourself. Understand the bad things about yourself. Come to grips with who you are…as you are.
Make an effort to actually change the things about yourself that you are not pleased with. Don’t change them because you think that you have to or because you think that there is something wrong with you. Change things about yourself because you want to be a better version of who you already are.
1. My new thing is making posters for my room. Because I’m awesome at it.
2. I have a slight addiction to the game Bejewled on my phone. Because I’m awesome at it.
3. Missy and I are trying to be healthy again. And less fat. We’re doing it together. Because I’m not awesome at it.
4. I am going to read 250 pages of a book tonight. I’m With the Band: Confessions of a Groupie by Pamela Des Barres. Because I waited too long to read it and it’s due tomorrow.
5. I want to start my own business called Upper Middle Classy, where I will be in charge of consulting with semi-wealthy families, then evaluating their homes and staffing them with whatever kind of help they need. Because I sincerely don’t want a real 9-5 job.
6. The cat I live with, Mittens, was just drinking out of the toilet. Because she’s a weirdo.
7. John actually saw me for the first time in our relationship tonight. Because he finally got contacts.
8. I almost overdrew my bank account yesterday when I went to buy John’s AWESOME Christmas present. Because I’d forgotten to put my check in and I only had 6 cents in the bank.
9. I will never be totally comfortable keeping secrets from people about how I actually feel. Because to me, that’s basically a lie.
10. I have to get out of here. Because I’m crawling out of my skin.
I am sick this weekend, so my plan was to stay home and recover. (Which included using a neti-pot, and coming from a girl who has to hold her nose when she swims- that was a big deal. They work, by the way. Like a freakin charm.) Anyway, John wasn’t going to come over and help me get better because he had actual things to accomplish and that was fine by me. Then last night he told me that his friends were going to come over and hang out with him at his house today. On a normal weekend, I would’ve gone to hang out too because I love hanging out with them. However, this weekend I wanted to stay home and be sick and I expressed my disappointment with John that I felt misled. I felt like he was ditching sick ol’ me for hanging out with friends.
I woke up this morning (ok…afternoon), went to the bathroom and when I came out John was in the kitchen with bags of groceries. He had bought chips, pop, and all the fixings to make his famous beef barley soup. We ate a bunch of food, medicated me and watched the OSU game. It feels really good to express a feeling and have the person you love most acknowledge that feeling and act as graciously as they can toward you. I love John Lucas Gambill.
Jolie: your breath smells. Me: because it’s early in the morning and it’s supposed to ( in a disgruntled voice because she woke me up super early on Saturday). Jolie: cover your mouth with your hair (strategically places a piece of my hair over my lips).
Who wants a four year old? She’s potty trained, says please and thank you and can write her name? Any takers???!!!
I’LL TAKE HER! My roommate Allie and I were discussing Jolie last night because she is literally the most beautiful human being to ever be born. Seriously, we spent an hour looking at photos and reading old blogs you had written that involved her. She makes my heart melt. Maybe because she doesn’t wake me up early on Saturday mornings to look at rainbows and complain about my bad breath, but still. :)
I was offered a job today that I really wanted but they want to pay me 7.50, which is only a quarter above minimum wage.
I never think of myself in any way that is minimum or even a quarter above it. I want to be paid something fair to do something decent and to do it well. I don’t think it’s too much to ask, but I’m having trouble finding an employer that thinks the same way.
Ok, this being said, I’m taking a hiatus. Not from the diet, but from the journaling about it. I will report back in a month about my changes. Still going to the gym, still eating right, starting to walk and weigh in with a friend in Dayton. Wish me luck. If I can lose ten pounds in the next month, I’ll be a happy camper.
Also, next week is my one year anniversary with John! Yikes! I’m a real girl who can keep a boyfriend without breaking hearts and running away. Watch me go!