"So there's that..."

       Spiders fall like little ninjas in the dark.  Out of nowhere, they appear like deadly assassins with a mission to use their prickly legs to cross major personal space.  Nashville insects are in full bloom.  I'm becoming a stronger person since there is really nothing I can do, but stand, walk, sit, and run with bugs all around me, running into me, buzzing by my ear, getting caught in my hair, and sometimes (very rarely) biting me.  They're not so bad, so long as it's not a cicada.

       (I wrote this in my notebook a few days back):
       I don't know what scares me more:
Being presently ok (maybe even happy) and not feeling like I need Jesus OR  pain and loneliness impelling me to desperately need Jesus.

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A confession:

1.  I was grocery shopping at the Kroger (if you're unfamiliar with this market it's along the lines of Alberstons/Ralphs), and they have those snack stands where you fill up a bag and pay by weight, and as I meandered through the isles I ate a few of my dark chocolate covered raisins.  I feel terrible.  It won't happen again, and I doubt I could go back and somehow offer compensation for my ...I hate to say it, ...stealing!! I'm sorry...to myself, because it's the little things like these that will chip away at one's character and integrity.  I feel monstrous.

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Cheers to iced coffee with almond milk!

I'm blogging at the Frothy Monkey, which is down the street from my place, and it's always buzzing with high-waisted young things, cut-off shorts and caramel leather bound feet.  It's a nice place to relax over a cup of iced coffee (ask for almond milk with it!), maybe have a yummy sandwich (like "The Ned"!), and see familiar faces as well as nice faces you'd like to be familiar with.  haha.  I suppose there's no way to write that without sounding creepy, but I mean it in a very friendly platonic way.  This place is buzzing with creatives, eclectic students, moms-on-the-run, and struggling writers.  It makes me feel at home.  Also it's strange to think about, but I have come to recognize that I'm really not a common face to come by, so the places I frequent must remember me pretty easily; I'm probably mentally noted as "the asian girl". haha

       Sorry I'm trying to think of what I could write to entertain, amuse, give rise to deep thought, or something along those lines, but I'm coming up with nothing, of course...when I'm ready to spend hours conveying the thousands of things, people, and thoughts that smash into me on a daily basis they suddenly halt and wait for me to be inconvenienced by them.  I'm tired, I have an interview in about an hour and a half, and my mind is just telling me I need to use the bathroom.  .....Actually, if I'm honest maybe I have tons of things to say that I know will be wind to an ember, but most of it, if not all, makes me too vulnerable.  hmmm....

hmmmmm!!!!

hmm...

I don't like to think about my current situation too much, how confused I am, lost, and lazy.  I'm not very physically lazy (which could be arguable), but I'm mentally lazy, or rather I make an effort to stay away from truly evaluating my actions and outcomes.  This is especially apparent when I'm alone on my days off from work or after I have a long conversation with someone who does good things in service to those people and things that benefit from their help (for example my friend works for a company that volunteers and financially helps support a non-profit called Thistle Farms - www.thistlefarms.org).  When I talk to people like that I usually leave feeling very selfish and wasteful of my life.  This is a very convincing conviction that I need to change, it's like how we have pain receptors to help us keep our bodies from further harm, my distaste for my own selfishness tells me I'm living incorrectly and need to make some adjustments.  So where do I begin?

I could, I will start ....something small, something doable....geesh, I can't even come up with ONE small adjustment to my selfishly saturated lifestyle.  I suppose that in itself is exactly why I'm writing this.  I'll start by recognizing my clutch for control and comfort.  A bad hair day or an hour of constipation seems like a mountain of distress for me, when in reality there are people who suffer from major hair loss and chronic GI disorders.  So the moral of the story is that no matter what my circumstances are, there's never anything a prayer and ruthless trust won't take care of, and the rest is a choice of being grateful for all the good things I do have (that I hardly take notice of) since feeling bad or sad doesn't do anything, might as well cheer up and set my sights on what I can do now to help one someone.  Little steps toward the right direction is the goal here.

-On finding my child-like Joy again

Jme Grey.