Summer Break

I have always disliked summer break…swimming, pool parties, beaches, barbeque, sleepovers, lazy days, library adventures, they are all done within the first few weeks. After that, what else is there to do?

This past year I have had the roughest school year yet – not only with classes, which, while very exciting and interesting, where a challenge to keep up with, but also with also issues. Social issues with friends and roommates, mental issues, family issues, etc. I gave the whole year 150% effort – grades (succesful), working out (mostly succesful), and trying to fix a few broken friendships (not so succesful).

Summer. Brand new start for me. I love starting anew, it fills me with hope, courage, determination, and exciting for what’s to come. I have 10 more days, and I have not started over.

Studying Welsh has been inconsistant, I cracked open my novel’s notebook once or twice, working out has given way to sleeping in. A few things have worked out – scripture reading has improved, and I have started to mend the broken bridges, and of course, I have been working almost every day for Wales and next semester of school.

But really what this summer has been for me is a break. A break from everything. A break from trying. A break from stress. A break from expectations. Although I may not like it on a day to day basis, thinking I should be doing or working on things I’ve lazily decided not to, I’ve come to realize it’s ok.

It’s ok. Break time. Enjoy the summer. Relax. Be lazy. Have fun. Don’t stress.

But then again, I only have to keep myself from tearing my hair out for another week and a half until my life stops being on pause.

History is My Home

I miss Virginia. I have always wondered why. Is it becuase I grew up there? From fifth grade to graduation? Is it becuase the best friends and memories of my childhood were made then? Is it becuase of the beauty of the green and the amount of plentiful trees and sparkling rivers and lakes?

Or is it the history?

Watching one of my favorite shows, Liberty’s Kids, I am amazed and nostalgic when the opening song plays. True, its a cartoon and can never do justice to reality, but the colonial culture in which it presents sparks something.

I never really enjoyed American history as much as world history or especially European history. But, after shadowing an American history teacher this semester, and watching the new History Channel series, America: the Story of Us, I realize, I do love the colonial history of America.

Maybe that is why I miss Virginia so much and wish to move back. Not only does the nature inspire me, but the history that brings it alive is what pulls me back: Jamestown, Williamsburg, Mount Vernon, Yorktown, DC, civil war battle sites, etc. I love the history, I love how Virginia brings it alive. I want to immerse myself in it. And I will. I would love to move back to Virginia, move back to the beautiful, peaceful state that is in every way representative of America! History is my home!

High Moral Standards

A friend from work was revealing to me all the reasons he liked me: cute, smart, funny, kind, high moral standards…

Wait. High moral standards? Wow, he noticed that? More than noticing, he cared about it enought to mention it? Wow. That’s why he likes me? Becuase of that little part in my life that I have always taken for granted growing up in my church?

I smiled when he said that last night.

I am still smiling.

I want to take what he said and improve on it. I have been lacking a bit. I could do better in what I say and do. I could do better in my daily scripture reading. I should do better – I will do better.

If that small comment can affect me this much, make me smile and lift my self-esteem? And then take it and improve on it? Who else will notice? How will I feel about myself?

Thank you so much. You don’t know how much those small, plain words meant to me.

Dried Up River

For the summer, I live in the desert with my family, right next to the Mojave River – literally next to it. Every day while driving to work, I have to cross this dried up river of sand.

While away at college, there were some big storms and water started to fill up the river again – not alot. The river bed is very wide and very deep. Shallow water started to flow through, enough to see the lines it was caressing into the sand.

The first day I went to work after coming home for the summer, I was suprised to see these little riverlets streaming down an otherwise barren wasteland. It made me smile; I looked forward to the drive to work. It gave me hope – that in this forsaken desert, some paradise had pushed through. I planned to drive to the riverbank one day I didn’t have work, and play in the appealing water.

But, as the week has gone on, the riverlets became smaller and smaller, sinking into the underground course the Mojave River takes, or joining the clouds in the sky. Now, there is no water, just a bridge over sand. The river has run dry.

Just as my creativity has. My muse, still lost, probably was hiding under my bridge, waiting for the perfect day to play with me in the cool refreshing river. But, with the blaring sun and the winding sand, and the dry, dry atmosphere, she has left me again, with a dried up river. I cannot wait to go to lush, green, moist, water infested Great Britain. 50 more days!!

I Admit It

So, today, I did something I never thought I would do – I went to a counselor. The type of counselor you go to for help, not academic, not religious, but emotional and mental.I never thought I would have to – I always thought I was stronger, smarter, too normal for that. I was wrong, and I admit I went.

Today just confirmed my growing beliefs. I admit I am not strong. Maybe that is why my novel that I am working on is so powerful to me. Maybe I really am like other authors who place who they want to be in a favorite character. Maybe I want to be strong mentally and emotionally, but the truth is, I’m not. I admit I am not courageous, I am not outspoken, I am not assertive (I totally am w/ sports, but not real life – funny how that works out). I admit I lack in some serious social and interpersonal characteristics. I admit I personally have some poor characteristics which causes the rest of these to blow up out of proportion. I used to think I was super good at all of this, but I realize that, no, I am not. My parents and my friends were right all along about me. I admit it. YOU are right about me – every little detail.

I have been having a terrible semester – I have been overly stressed and underly social. I have been overly focused on school work and underly focused on my relationships. I have been overly successful in my jobs, yet, sadly, underly successful with hours and earnings. Most days, I want to just go to bed and give up on everything else. I want to give up on school, I want to give up trying to earn enough money for Wales, I want to give up on finding a new place to live next year, I want to give up on trying to heal my friendships.

That is why I went to a counselor. I don’t want to give up. I want to prove I am stronger than that, that I CAN push through. And I am not just talking about the going to class and work even if I didn’t get any sleep or if I am hacking up a lung. That is just determination. I want the strength to not give up this semester. I want the strength to be able to fix my problems. To be able to confront them and eradicate them by any means necessary. Maybe that is why I have been working so hard on my novel lately – it’s as if my character that I created will hopefully give me strength.

I admit that I need some serious changing. I admit that I need some help to do so. I admit that I am not perfect, nor anywhere near so. I admit I am wrong sometimes, harsh sometimes, bossy sometimes, selfish sometimes. I admit all my downfalls, but hopefully, will be able to fix them all.

Give me strength to admit it and work through it.