The Mouse That Roared

One of my friends got married tonight. She looked so beautiful.

You’ll never guess who caught the bouquet…

Look out boys, now I just need a man to go with the flowers.

It’s really quite funny how much stock we put into tradition- especially things that really don’t mean a thing. I have another picture, quite the hilarious one, of all of my girlfriends squealing and congratulating me on my “catch.” And it doesn’t mean a thing.

Oh. And I cried at the wedding. Who didn’t see that coming?

Goodness, I’m getting old. Two friends married already, and one more set for September of next year, and probably many more to follow after that. And I’m still sitting here. Alone.

Maybe I’ll go sing a magic song to my bouquet or something….

Sometimes, I’m overwhelmed.

What happens then? Well, if you ask any of the people who I live with, I have a tendancy to drop into the fetal position and just sit there for a while.

Sometimes, I’m not enough.

And then I cry. Because how can I go through life not being good enough for anyone?

And all of a sudden it’s after 1am. Where do all of the minutes go? I will write more again, soon. And more. I miss writing and all. On here. I just haven’t been motivated enough, but I’m hoping to get it back soon.

Well, it seems that my end-of-summer slump is ending.

I’ve got a job now, school starts tomorrow, Navs is in full-swing with welcoming stuff, and I applied for France today.

Four Months and Ten Days. And I’ve got to come up with a lot of money by then.

Writing is going well enough. I’ve got a lot of ideas waiting to be put into words.

I feel like I should have more to say…

Hi. I’m still here.

I keep trying to sit down and write something, because it is floating around in my head, but I keep getting distracted or discouraged. Sometimes I think 26 letters just isn’t enough when it comes to figuring out what’s really going on inside of me.

School starts in a few days, and I’m really excited. History of Language, French Composition, Shakespeare, Bible and Near Eastern Literature, Intro to Folklore (fairytales!), and Creative Writing. Yep. I’m going to be really busy. Add in a part time job, volunteering at the hospital, social time, and trying to prep for Paris, and I’m going to be super busy.

Four Months and Twelve Days to Paris.

To Whomever Feels it Necessary to Post Comments on this Blog:

I understand that you may not agree with what I have to say here. But that’s fine. My advice is to simply go away. Your rude comments are uncalled for, unprovoked, and immature, and that is why I have deleted them. I am entirely open to criticism, when it comes from people whom I know and trust to give me an honest answer. A blank, cowardly voice on the internet who mocks my beliefs and veritably drips with sarcasm is not to be paid attention to by anyone with an ounce of common sense or self-confidence, both of which I possess a considerable ammount of.

I hate to encourage you further by writing this. But, quite simply, go away. Your comments are not welcome here. If you have something constructive to say, and you would like to say so with a real name, then by all means, do so. But if you are simply here to make my day difficult, to mock my God, and to be idiotic, then I think you should go bother someone else, because your words will simply be deleted again, and that wastes my time.

If you would like to have an adult, civilized conversation, I am more than open to that. If you’re in the Cincinnati area, let me know. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee, and we’ll talk. And you can explain to me why you feel as you do. Until then, and I will say it again, take your remarks elsewhere.

Thank you.

Stella

I’m beginning to stress out.

I need a job. And the longer I don’t have one, the more snippy I get, the more agitated, the more short with people. I am freaking out at this point.

I have $2.91 in my checking account. $2.91!!! And there IS a decimal point in there.

The Library called me this morning and pretty much told me, again, don’t call us, we’ll call you. Well, you HAVEN’T called me yet, and I need. a. job. I’m scared. I’m scared out of my head. I don’t even have enough money to buy a jar of peanut butter. And the job scene is looking low. Low low low. Most campus jobs require a work study student, there are NO openings near my house, and I don’t have a car, so the ONE place that wants to see me is all the way on the other side of the world, into Burnet Woods, and no sane girl is going to walk through there by herself. No sir, not me.

I’m freaking out. I haven’t been sleeping at night, I’ve had no energy to do anything. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just want a job.

I realize now the importance of the Holy Spirit in everything.

It’s almost as if it’s a pair of glasses. Without his guidance, we stumble around. We may be able to get from place to place, do what we need to do, but the whole time we’re doing a poor job of it, and running into others as we go. But things are so much clearer, they go so much better when we look for that guidance and wisdom.

Lord, I need a job.

If you, most beloved reader, wouldn’t mind throwing one up to the Big Guy, I’ve applied to two positions at the library downtown, and they are perfect. Really. For serious. So, please, intercede for me? Thanks so much.

I’m so tired of it all.

I’m so tired of men not being men, of mousey women and bad wallpaper.

I am the Mouse that Roared.

I’m not having a very good day today. Perhaps I’m just emotional. Maybe it’s because my latte is too sweet for my tastes. Maybe it’s because it’s cold and dreary outside.

Maybe I just don’t know how to be happy.

I don’t know how my plot is going to work out. I thought I knew, but then everything just started sounding stupid and bother bother bother. Now I’m walking blindly, wearing my wordshoes, through a country filled with people I don’t even know. Maybe it’s just that trust thing playing into effect again.

I’m restless again. It’s not helping that people are getting married and engaged, while I’m still alone. And I’m reading books like “Sarah” and “The Red Tent,” that are all about what it means to be a woman: a sensual, passionate, fertile, loving woman. I don’t know if I can be any of those things. I don’t like feeling like a failure. And so I try to cover it up. I wear skirts and pretty colors, I do my hair and my makeup, and I cook and I bake and I clean house. But all of those are just outside things. I feel like I’m missing something on the inside.

Some people will tell you that I’m one of the most girly people you’d find. My girls at camp told me I’ll make a good mom one day, other people tell me that I’ll make a good wife. But why don’t I feel that way? Why don’t I feel complete?

I’m 20 years old. And I feel like I’m searching for something that I’ll never find. What if I never learn what it’s like to be everything that I could or should be? I’m not even anywhere near ready for the future, so I don’t even know why this is so important to me right now.

I just want a Life. A real, all or nothing, see it, feel it, taste it, touch it, love and be loved, experience the thrill, can’t imagine anything else sort of Life. But what if I’m not worthy of that?

Am I doing all that I could be doing? Putting in all of the effort? Striving as hard as I can? Pushing on despite everything?

Sadly, no.

But when do I ever?

Will this ever change? Will I ever be where I want to be?

God, I hope so.