It's time to pack up your pride, girl.

Let's Do This...

A couple of months ago I wrote about how I felt change was on it's way. I think I was right. I think it's starting to creep in as I type this. As of yesterday I am officially moved out of the place I tried to call home the past five or six months and back into my parents house. So, instead of letting feelings of failure overtake me, I have decided to view this as an opportunity for change. Maybe it's because of the realization and fear that I have almost lost my burning desire to wake up in the morning and not waste a second. Maybe it's because I want to change what my happiness depends on. Maybe it's because I have tasted a pinch of change after being hungry for months and my stomach is growling louder than ever for more. Whatever the reason is, I realize I am nineteen years old, working a job with minimal hours, and I'm not in school. Shouldn't I be trying to change the world? Shouldn't I be traveling the world I wish to change? Shouldn't I be creating something - whether it be art, music, tangible, or intangible? Well, I think I should be.

I've recently found myself intrigued by the idea of goals. When everyone else is asleep right before the sun begins to rise, I find myself reading list after list of goals that belong to and mean something to strangers. After doing this for weeks on end, I finally made an ongoing list of my own. Some of these I wish to accomplish over the course of the next year while others will take years to even begin to be accomplished. Call this a list of New Years resolutions, a bucket list, whatever. Just know this is the start of my search for that burning desire to wake up and not waste the day I was blessed with. Let's do this...

1. Step foot on the soil of every state in America at least once.

2. Learn to drive a stick-shift.

3. Have one of my photographs published in a magazine such as TIME, National Geographic, or Vogue.

4. Get married.

5. Live in an old white house with a wrap-around porch before I die.

6. Make a friend at a show or on a flight.

7. Live in Philadelphia for a bit while I'm still young.

8. Own / work at a well known music venue.

9. Get a tattoo

10. Be in a band.

11. Have children -- at least one of each.

12. Learn French or Italian or both.

13. Explore Europe.

14. Learn / memorize the constellations.

15. See the Northern Lights.

16. Go on tour either as a part of a band or as a "merch girl".

17. Collect postcards and send them to my friends periodically throughout the year. (17.2 Start collecting friends addresses.)

18. Learn to fishtail braid. (Completed Jan. 2011)

19. Lead my children to Christ with my husband.

20. Meet and have an in depth conversation with Kanye West.

21. Work at a record store.

22. Relearn the piano.

23. Own a Rhodes Mark II.

24. See Paul McCartney live.

25. Travel aimlessly either by myself or with my best friend for a month.

26. Teach my children how to be polite and dress well.

27. Try sushi.

28. Learn how to make fried okra.

29. Shoot a shotgun.

30. Pull over to watch the sunrise / sunset.

31. Ride a roller-coaster.

32. Meet Chris Chu. Give him a hug for the music he has created.

33. Re-learn how to develop film.

34. Have a darkroom in my home.

35. Own "What's Eating Gilbert Grape" on VHS. (Completed Jan. 2011)

36. Complete a Project 365 the first year of my children's lives.

37. Complete a Project 365 the first year I am married.

38. Pet a lion/tiger without my hands being mauled.

39. See my grandpa again. On my own terms with the right words.

40. Build a model volcano.

41. Spend a couple of days at Yellowstone National Park

42. Get my nose pierced. But be quick to realize if I look silly and need to take it out.

To be continued...

10 Things You Want To Say To 10 People

1. I am finally loosening my grip on the grudge towards you that I held so tightly. I am sorry it's taken this long.

2. Thank you for coming back to pick me up five minutes after dropping me off and thank you for staying by my side when I was too scared to fall asleep alone.

3. As I sat on your bed, I was thinking about someone else. I'm sorry.

4. You're the only person I like saying goodbye to because you give the best hugs.

5. This is coming out of sincerity and love: Grow up.

6. You only knew how to love when you were drunk. Lucky for you, you were an alcoholic.

7. I really like what I see in you. You're a good man with a great heart. I am beyond thankful to have you in my life.

8. Average friendships are like hot dogs, which are great. But our friendship is like a hot dog with three slices of bacon on it, which of all the greats is the most great.

9. Thank you for having a shoulder for me to lean on. I know that sounds so cliché and minuscule. But I'm not sure I would have made it to the end of the day if you hadn't been there and willing to listen to the things that were tearing me up on the inside that morning.

10. I hope everyone can experience the happiness you brought me those handful of months. It is an exquisite thing, happiness. Thank you.

And I felt love again...

The last time I saw you I was sitting in grandma's rocking chair. I remember it was my turn to keep you company and it was awkward because we weren't much for talking. I watched you allow the exhaustion take over as you sat in your chair with nothing to do after those countless years of taking care of her every need had come to a halt. You only woke up when your mind tricked you into thinking you heard her call your name. You were still adjusting to life without her.

It's been over six years since I sat in that chair. Over these past six years I have taught myself to not break easily. I've found that, for me, crying doesn't solve much. Rather it makes me feel weak and leaves me exhausted with a headache. So I tend to try to man-up and shake things off. Today was an exception.

Today I was pulled aside and told how you two ran into each other yesterday. How you asked question after question about me. How you told him about the box full of cards you have for me from every holiday that has come and gone over the course of these long years. How you have written me letters every time you thought of me even though you knew you couldn't send them. How you wanted me to know how much you still love me. I stood there and realized I couldn't just shake this off. I stood there and realized that even if I could, I didn't want to just shake it off. So I broke down and cried like never before.

As I stood there, face in soaked hands, fully understanding the cliché "crying tears of joy," all I could think of was one line from a Manchester Orchestra song. You see, when it comes to things like this, my words seem meaningless. I am working on finding meaning for them, though, so that one day I'll be able to fully express everything I've wished to say to you since that last day I sat in grandma's rocking chair. But today I'm going to let this one line say it all. "And I felt love again..."

I'm all over the place tonight.

My sleeping pattern is forever screwed up. I do not begin to drift in and out until I can see the sun rising. I do not begin to wake up until I can feel an incoming call or the clock strikes one or two or three. But I think I like it that way.

It's the middle of the month, so of course I am hiding away at my parents. It's about this time that I usually start freaking out about money and ponder the pro's and con's of moving back to this room that I am currently hiding in. Well, my work has lost my paycheck and I have $0.07 to my name and not even $0.35 worth of gas in my tank. Although that scares the shit out of me, I'm not complaining, I'm laughing as my cat sleepily head-butts me.

I feel like things have been changing and more change is on its way. Good change too, mind you. My mother just came back from a weekend trip to California. It hit me the day she got back how much of a struggle it was this time last year for her to find the will to get out of bed, let alone leave the house, let alone go on vacation. So even though I sat in that truck yawning from not sleeping an ounce the night before, as she told me any and every story about her trip, I was the most proud of her.

Things I would like to accomplish before the year is out (feel free to help me accomplish any of these): Build a model volcano. Learn how to play the ukulele. Learn how to play "Martha My Dear" on at least one instrument. Go on a small road-trip (preferably up north). Get a second job. Get caught up on movies that I've never seen but apparently should have.

For the first time in my life I am conscience of the heart beating in my chest.

Living completely alone is proving unhealthy. I've left these four walls only five times the past two or three weeks. I would kill to have some sort of personal interaction outside of this house, work, or my parent's house. I just want to have a conversation. I just want to drive as fast as I can out of this town for a day. I just want to get a call from at least one of the places I've applied to this past month. I'm going to lose my mind these next three days. Friday, get here quick.