Characters

Note: I have an essay due tomorrow that I've only half completed.  Senioritis is horrid. 
Note 2: I walked in the rain today without an umbrella so I could pick up Starbucks for my coworkers.  It was fun.  When I tried to use an umbrella, the wind flipped it inside out, reminding me of Mary Poppins. Awesome. 


You learn a lot about the nature of God studying people.  As a writer and a lover of good characters, I tend to be over-observant.  I eavesdrop and spy and watch and stare (warning for those who sit in restaurants near me).  I like to learn about people, how they work, why they do things, what makes them tick, etc.  You'll notice that when I'm interacting with people, I always try to understand them before I take action.  The problem is sometimes I'm wrong, my assumption, though based on good evidence, does not withstand the truth.  However, what I have learned is the intricacy of humans.  People are varied infinitely, so much so that often people don't even understand themselves.  


I don't like psychology.  It tries to categorize people too much, see them as "science" rather than "creations."  It would please me very much to take the "-logy" out of the word and just leave it as is.  "I'm majoring in psycho.  What are you majoring in?"  That would be much more interesting.


There are a lot of people that puzzle me because while I like to understand, sometimes I'm not very understanding.  I have a problem with judging and seeing things from another way other than my own.  I think this is a problem that runs in my entire family.  


My dad was mentioning the other day how all of my friends have messed up families.  I agreed, because its true.  A good majority of my close friends have problematic families.  I told my dad that I tend to be friends with genuine people, and with that, you often get "messed up families" in this generation.  My dad was commenting on how some people don't have any messed up friends.  I said then their friends were usually shallow.


Blanket statements like that...I really shouldn't say them.  I'm sure there isn't really a shallow person out there.  There are just a lot of people who shut the rest of the wealth that is their personality up in some distant recess of their mind so they can function.  There are just too many generalizations because in such a varied world of personalities, the only way to make sense of them is to make generalizations and in the end, cheat yourself out of the wealth humanity has to offer.


This takes me back to God's character.  He created all of these people.  It astounds me how people are so receptive, subconsciously mainly, to the circumstances of their childhood.  People are so shaped by how they grow up.  (This makes me want to just be a totally awesome, Godly parent. It really does.)  It interests me so much how little things in people's pasts become the rudder for the rest of their lives.  I love how God has imprinted His love of design and variation and differences in the world of personalities everyone has out there.  


I have to admit though...some of those personalities drive me mad.  


With that in mind, I want the goal of my stories to focus on the characters.  Because what is the point if you don't learn something new about people when you read literature?  Even books that would never make it into the "classics" category.  If it has creatively and aptly helped to reveal something (not necessarily new) about humans and the "human experience" (which is just a fancy name for "life" or "relationships"), then I would consider it a well-written piece.  Why?  Because it had a good purpose.  


I hope my writing is like that.  


PS - Why is my posts the only ones that look messed up in terms of formatting? 

Saturday Afternoon

I have been able to sleep in recently, which ironically, was something I just told Amy that I couldn't do anymore.  I was thinking about the reason why I was able to sleep in twice this weekend this morning after I woke up at 11:30, only because my lovely father who is trying to stand up for my mother's ideals woke us up at that time about an hour after he had awaken.  


It is sort of disconcerting to wake up late, considering I know I have tons of things to do, but this is what I do after I wake up: surf Facebook and write a blog entry.  I haven't even showered yet.  I think I am stressed.  Why else would my body find so much solace in sleeping?  But if I am stressed, I'm not sure where the stress is coming from.  I don't feel stressed.  Do I?  I'm not sure.  


With the risk of making me sound like a clingy girlfriend, perhaps my "stress" is related to not seeing my boyfriend for four days this week (which is abnormal, sorry).  I don't know what it is, but when I'm with him, I feel complete, and when I'm not, I feel like I'm missing something.  So its an endless cycle of waiting until the next time I see him to feel whole again.  I'm not sure how much of that is a good thing and a bad thing, though most people I talk to argue for its dangerousness.  I don't know.  Most people I know don't understand what its like to be in a "steady" relationship, for lack of a better term, and all of the things that go along with it.  I've tried to explain it to people, but they don't get it, so I've stopped trying.  


So, perhaps I am stressed, but right now I feel like I'm in a hazy sort of daze, sitting in my dimmed room with the blinds still closed but letting in cracks of sunlight, and my computer screen, the brightest light in the room, illuminating my oily hair and face, while I listen gladly to the sound of the keyboard as I type and the appearance of the words in my mind onto the computer screen.  Sometimes I think I update this blog simply because I like to hear myself type.  

Mother Madness

*Warning: First real(?) rant post*

Things my mom does that tend to bug me to no end (causing me to instantly act irritable toward her in response) but I'm not sure why they bug me are:

1...when she asks me to do something last minute

2...when she tries to talk to me when I'm on the phone

3...when she asks me to deliver something to her company for her

Analysis of #1:

Perhaps I get bothered by this because I'm not very flexible with my schedule. I know I like to stick to my schedule, but when things come up, I'm not so frustrated with those things, am I? Or maybe it is because I'm trying desperately to make my schedule independent of hers and she assumes that I have nothing else to do and can just wake up that one hour earlier to go do something I hadn't planned on doing that it'll be okay. Or maybe it is because I'm a control freak and don't like my precious schedule messed with. Or maybe I don't like the unknown throwing me off guard. But I don't think that I'm as irritable (and as instantly irritable) with anything else that does this to my schedule but her. Or maybe its just because I don't like to lose sleep.

Possible Conclusion: because I'm trying desperately to make my schedule independent of hers

Analysis of #2:

This I am pretty sure I know why it bothers me. I try not to talk to my mom when she's on the phone. When we were little, she set up this system that we had to put our hand on her shoulder and she would get to us at a good point in the conversation. However, I'm usually on the phone in my room, so when my mom is yelling at me from across the house, she does not know I am on the phone. But it still bugs me when I have to yell an answer back, and then she asks ANOTHER questions and my annoyed tone does not signal to her my annoyance.

Possible Conclusion: because she's being hypocritical

Analysis of #3:

This one still boggles me. Lots of times she asks me to deliver something, I am on the way. My work is right next door. Why not? Its convenient. I still get bothered and annoyed and irritable. Other times, she asks me when I'm not so close by (like school) and its a 10 minute drive out of my way. I should be kind and just deliver it for her. But for some reason, I hate it. It feels like she is taking advantage of me, because I am the only person she can ask. Which is ironic because she warned me against taking care of my friend's cat too much because of the same reason. Isn't she doing the same thing to me? Blah. I should be nicer, I should just deliver the package/take care of the cat without getting all angry that they are messing with what I had originally planned. Or is this intimately related to my anger in regards to issue #1? 

Possible Conclusion: inconclusive

Mothers...and I'm going to be just like her when I get old. I know it. Which just makes it worse.

Inevitable

I have to admit that after my last entry in which I tried to copy and paste lyrics, I got fed up with Blogger merely because it wouldn't change my stupid font size to "small" instead of "normal." I tried SO many times to get the font of my last entry to be the same as everything else, and when I gave up, I almost didn't post the lyrics just because it didn't match. I suppose there might be something wrong with that.

So, its 2010. Normally, I'm not much into celebrating New Year's. I've probably stated this somewhere else on the Internet, but it doesn't feel like a beginning to me. I would love to celebrate beginnings or endings that were actually beginnings. But the only thing in 2010 that is beginning is a new number to write on papers and a new quarter. To me, not much of a beginning. I'd much rather celebrate the beginning of summer or even the beginning of the school year to the end of the Christmas season.

However, this year is a bit different. First, it dawned on me that...hey, 2010 is a new decade. What the heck! Where did the last decade go? It went by so fast. And I sound so old for saying that. But more importantly, I started looking ahead (as I do probably too often) and started to notice impending *insert word here* (word choices: a) doom, b) changes, c) possibilities, d) none of the above). Dude. This year is THE year for watching my whole life turn upside down. And the thing that is weird is that I know there is no way around it, minus failing school, which arguably would have the same result anyway. This year, I am looking at my graduation in March, starting full time work, facing for the first time myself and my "pen" (am I a real writer?), and probably an engagement tossed in there somewhere. Not to mention I ended 2009 buying a car. Which was totally out of the blue.

I am not really mentally ready to start my adult life. But then again, who is? I doubt anyone could claim such a feat. I am feeling sort of frantic at this point because there aren't that many people I know who are in the same position as me. Most of the people I know are taking life in chunks. Handling the career before the marriage. Or handling the marriage before the career. Or something of that sort. (It's too late for me to think of better, more realistic permutations.) I'm trying to take a huge bite of both.

Props to Jon for being able to handle everything. I don't see how he bought that house and still manages to see straight.

So, in the most circuitous way, this year both scares and excites me. I am both apprehensive, nervous and eager, excited. I am looking at the end of what I know but what I am tired of. I am looking at the beginning of what I have been looking forward to yet know nothing about. I know that it is silly of me to say such simple things. Everyone knows change is scary because of the unknown. And everyone knows I don't handle the unknown very well. Maybe that is why I tell myself over and over again why I'm scared.

I want to charge into 2010 and embrace all of the things it has to offer. Especially since the changes are so inevitable. But at the same time, I'm not ready. And I'm afraid of not being ready. More than of the unknown.

I feel like there is a lot on my mind right now, and its making it harder to go to sleep nowadays. I'm trying to learn what it means to be a faithful wife, a good steward, a dedicated writer, a valuable employee, a Godly leader, and a loving daughter/sister all at the same time. And these things are all at the forefront of my mind. I'm started to feel swamped.

I guess writing here doesn't really aid me at all. I am only getting out on "paper" what I have been mulling over in my head for the past few days. Which makes me feel like this post was totally pointless and that I wasted twenty minutes of my time/sleep. But at the same time, I know this is a somewhat small, desperate cry for an understanding ear. I guess that is what I get for not having many close friends. I am forced to depend, yet again, on my writing for my solace.

Wow, the more I write this, the more lame I feel. Perhaps I should stop now.

*Edit - And the font STILL doesn't work....