Jots from a Composition Notebook

"Sketch"
Lines curve
mapping spaces unseen
Free formed
flowing silently between
A rigid stroke
a soft shade
His hands display his soul
Beautifully hidden...
yet brilliantly spoken.
(joanna lynn)

"O"
Circles
:vicious, unceasing, my demise.
In, never outside myself.
Spinning
:deafening, mystifying, thrilling.
Stuck
I am.
(joanna lynn)

Just a Little Thought

For some reason the smallest little thing caught my attention today and I thought it was one of the sweetest things I've ever seen. And it made me want it for myself!

I went home today during my lunch from work because I haven't really seen or talked to my mom in over a week (I miss her!). She was sitting down to eat in the living room with me and then a piece of her food went down her throat wrong so she started coughing. Admittedly I laughed at first because it sounded funny and she was making a crazy face (and for some reason I seem to be evil when it comes to people hurting themselves, especially when they fall down-- I find it hilarious, even though I know I shouldn't. just ask my sister...), but it kept going on and her coughing was getting worse. She started gagging and wheezing, it was concerning. She walked into the kitchen to get water, and my dad was outside doing some yard work. He heard her and came inside just to see if she was OK. He asked if her food was stuck, then started hitting her back, then he rubbed her back a little until she seemed somewhat normal again. Some men are trained to do this, but not my dad. He's the kind of man that isn't concerned easily, nor is he quick to fuss over or indulge someone. But he genuinely loves my mom and cares about her well being. To see my big, stocky dad come into the house to comfort my mom warmed my heart so much. I love seeing that.

It's kind of silly, but it's little things like that that speak the loudest sometimes. To quote my favorite movie, "It's the little things that count." I can remember times before when I had a coughing attack and the guy I was with never even paused in his conversation with someone else as he sat right next to me; or when I rushed to the bathroom and he sat down the hall watching tv while he listened to me puke. I don't want to be treated like a princess, but I'd like to feel cared for. I'd like to feel looked out for, put first. Because that's how I'll treat them, no question. And if someone doesn't make every effort to show this after being together for only 2 months, that's saying something :)

By the way, I checked my online dating account this evening and found an email from a young "gentleman", I copied a few highlights from his profile just for you:
"First off my job will always come first in my life, peoples lives are in my hands. I work long, hard, random, hours and get pretty wiped out after a good shift...I'm a super laid back, good guy but, i also know how to be a bad boy, when i need to. love cooking with a bottle of good wine, hiking, gym, going out, yadda yadda... and telling funny stories about the crazy stuff I've bared whiteness too. I'd like to meet some who's got there own stuff going on, not going to stock me. some one who's down to chill and not play crazy games."
Did you catch the great use of spelling and grammar? And ooh, he's a bad boy when he needs to be, because God knows sometimes you just need to be bad :) Oh man, I'm not judgmental, really(!). But maybe I am being a little picky. I suppose it's because I want a good, smart, hot man to rub my back when I'm wheezing.

Oh well, what can you do?

Matchless

Back in February curiosity got the best of me and I opened up an account on one of those online dating sites…ooh, I hoped it wouldn’t be embarrassing to admit that, but I was wrong.

Anyway. I don’t know how serious I am about it because I haven’t even responded to anyone on there yet. I’m still not sure if I like it, it feels weird, a little insincere and like I’m on the prowl for a husband! But the caliber of guys I meet on a day to day basis prompted my curiosity, because it’s pretty extraordinarily sad. I just wondered, maybe someone special I would have never met is online. Or maybe he isn’t, but at least I could learn a little something about guys and/or myself through a new kind of experience. So far, much like my day to day life, I’ve only cringed and had a good laugh at the guys that have “winked” at or messaged me. Is that mean?

Seriously, though, I might have to gag myself if another 40-something winks at me and tells me I’m “cute”. Really, dude? “Cute” like your daughter? OK, so maybe 40 isn’t old enough to be my dad, but some of the guys are mid-40’s so they’re getting pretty close. I’ve learned I have a few pet-peeves, too. Like spelling and grammar, and the proper use of “your” vs. “you’re”. That one drives me crazy! :) Also, it’s deceiving when guys are wearing sunglasses or hats in their profile pictures – it might just be me, but when I’m driving it seems like there are a lot of hot guys driving around, but I think it’s because most of them are wearing sunglasses. It ups the hot factor for sure, but it can hide a lot. I also don’t think it’s ever a good idea to include the number 69 in your username, even if you were born in 1969, don’t do it!

Most of the guys online claim to be on it because they work a lot, or travel a lot, or are simply lonely. It’s kind of what I expected, but worth easing my curiosity I suppose. I think meeting guys the good old fashioned way is still the best way, it just takes patience. And I’ve got all the time in the world, I’m in no rush. I’m pretty excited about where I’m going, and I think it’ll happen that we’ll cross each other’s paths as we’re heading in the same direction, he’ll become my best friend as we calmly, slowly, and patiently build on something solid. But make no mistake there will be lots of passion, and fun! You know, I think I’m a romantic; I never used to think I was but I totally am!

So I guess I’ll check “online dating” off my list of things to try, next up something cooler and much less embarrassing...

Things Not To Do

Saturday I flew home from a fantastically fun week in Montana, and while I looked forward to flying and my amazing window seat views it was one of the most miserable days ever.

The first stretch of the flight had me feeling queasy, but I was able to control it until we landed in Denver, where I immediately found the bathroom and puked...and puked, and puked. Then I found my gate, curled up in a chair with my backpack, and fell asleep for like an hour. I woke up just in time to board the 2 hour trip to LA, where I vomited in the convenient baggy tucked into the seat infront of me within 10 minutes of take-off. I debated about using it, but the guy next to me was asleep (already?!) and the lady next to him, who was lucky enough to be close to the bathroom I was eying, had her tray down and a book and bag of nuts already sitting on it. So I opted for the bag instead of uncomfortably squeezing my way to the aisle and possibly throwing up all over those unfortunate enough to be seated near me. The first load filled about 1/3 of the bag, so I pressed the button for a flight attendant's assistance hoping they could take it and give me a new one. 20 minutes after ignoring my light, they finally came along with their drink cart and I asked for a ginger ale, lifted up my pathetic bag as my face felt flush and sweaty and asked if I could get a new one, to which the lady turned her head and snapped that she couldn't take that right now. OK, so maybe it's because she's passing out drinks and she'll come back to have pity on me when she's done. About an hour later, my warm puke bag still sat on my lap and I filled about another 1/3 of it with the ginger ale I just drank. It was horrible. I had to walk out the plane with my full bag! That seems ridiculous!! I fell asleep again once I got to LA, and luckily the flight home was only 30 minutes so I was able to control myself again (though beads of sweat covered my face the whole time). After I got home I spent the rest of the evening sleeping and getting up to vomit violently.

At first I chalked it up to the dramamine I took failing, because I'm usually really sensitive to motion sickness. But as I thought more about it and my mom, in all her motherly concern, pryed more out me, I started to see how Friday may have been full of ways I was setting myself up for misery. So from this I've compiled a list of things never to do, follow along with me:

DO NOT:

• Smoke your first cigar within 24 hours of flying.
• Pass up water at lunch and dinner for soda and alcohol.
• Decide to pack your suitcase the night before you leave when you know you're going to be out that night.
  
• Agree to go offroading after 10 pm when you have a flight at 7am.
• Agree to go offroading without a helmet.
  
• Agree to go offroading, ever.
• Take a guy up on his offer to buy you and your friends a beer at 12am after he got you stuck in the mud for over an hour.
• Drink a beer when you have to be up in 3 hours.
• Get 2 hours of sleep before you have an 8 hour day of flying and airports ahead of you.

And finally,
DO NOT:

• Do all of the above on an empty stomach!

Learn from my mistakes, people, I'm here to help you as I wish I would have helped myself!
All in all, though, I have some fun memories and I hold no grudges. But that could have a lot to do with the two hits my head took to the roof of a truck...but whatever it takes I guess.

Love Love, Kiss Kiss, Blah Blah Blah

Notes from a single gal's life:

* Being single is kind of liberating
* Worrying about myself is usually enough to worry about
* There is freedom in flying solo confidently
* 3rd, and sometimes 9th, wheel status isn't as bad as it sounds when you have fun friends
* Random flirting is a nice ego-boost
* Options are tasty (that sounds gross, I just mean having them is appealing)
* Dreams are easier to pursue when you can do it 100% your way
* No matter what, my heart will always long to love
* No matter what, those dreams pursued will always be sweeter if chased with someone
* No matter what, I'd give up selfish freedom for a genuine, selfless love -- any day

I'm not a member of the "need to get love to get by" club (because I'm pretty sure I just made that up), but I can't help but believe that all the wonderful things about being single can be matched or replaced when you meet the right person. The person who complements you, the person whose life is in-line with yours, the person whose dreams are mirror images of yours. The person who sees you and says "She is everything I've prayed for", and you say "He is everything I've prayed for." The person you can truly say, without hesitation, the Lord matched you with.

I'd be lying if I said finding that person didn't scare me. It scares me for a couple of reasons. There's a fear that I'll keep going about my life and one day realize I never found them. The other is the fear of thinking you're in the arms of that person, then falling flat on your face. I'm so afraid of feeling that again. How can you ever really trust someone enough to spend the rest of your life with them? How do you ever really know it's for real? How can you trust someone to not screw with your heart, enough to let them have it forever? How can you trust yourself, that you're being completely observant and honest and seeing all the red flags? How can you be sure you're not making a mistake? Finding a partner is a big deal. Is it complicated? Is it easy? Is it different for everyone? Should I even care? :)

I don't have a long track record of relationships, only 2 official ones to speak of 5 years apart and a few handfuls of dates and flirting in between, because sometimes I think it's really good to be alone. I think it's healthy, depending on what you do with that time alone. So I've been trying to use my time productively, though I'm not the greatest at it, I'm still trying. I'm doing my best to study myself, to understand myself: what are my strengths, my weaknesses, what makes me tick, what attracts me, what mistakes have I made and why did I make them, what do I need to do to be sure I don't make them again. Some of the things I've learned have made me feel really screwed up :) But others have allowed me to see the progress I am making in life, and feel really proud of the person I've become (and continue to become).

I can't help but feel really ready to find that person I've been speaking of (the "one" so to speak), yet really unsure at the same time. Sometimes I feel as though God won't bring him into my life until I have 100% of my stuff together, though if that were the case I will most likely never have the pleasure of meeting him! All I figure is he must be pretty freakin' fantastic. I've always believed that I wouldn't want to require more of the person I marry than I require of myself, so maybe we've both just needed a little more time to work on ourselves so that we can be our strongest together. If that's the case, then it will be worth this wait. The tears, the heartache, the empty dreams, he'll be worth it.

By the way, a little off the subject but speaking of the future, I found a school that has me envisioning it in a completely new and exciting way. It all started on my parents home computer when I was 14, goofing off and manipulating pics, which led me to a graphics class my senior year of hs, and finally now (after 10 years) to a two year Graphic Design and Photography degree in Santa Barbara. Here, take a looksy:













































I'm still praying about whether or not that's the place for me, but I think once the guts are worked up enough to seriously talk about it with the parental units it'll pretty much be a done deal. So pray for me about that, I could use it :)

So to end these Notes from a single gal's life:
* Ultimately, God is in control. He is ultimately the lover of my heart, ultimately the only one worthy of being desired by me, the only one I need. Asking for anything more would be selfish.
...So I might have to be a little stubborn on this one.

Judging a Book by Its Cover

A couple of weeks ago I bought two new books to start reading during my class breaks (because I get very bored, and homework will always be there). One of the books, which I've yet to start, is a fictional story based on a true one about a woman with Alzheimers, and the other is a collection of some writer's witty short stories. I chose the latter for two reasons: 1) I enjoy short stories because they're quick and to the point, and I think it takes a lot of talent to be entertaining and thought provoking in such a little amount of space, and 2) the cover caught my attention and I liked it -- it's yellow and bright and the font is neat and the title is interesting.

See:

I skimmed through the first couple of stories before I bought it, and they seemed innocent and clever enough. However, the first time I sat down to read it my eyes opened wide and my cheeks blushed as the words I read to myself filled my head with distasteful images. There I sat in a student center full of people, if only they knew the thoughts being forced on me at that very moment...Seriously, if I wanted to read vulgar portrayals of one's sex romps or unsettled sexual orientation, I would have bought a romance novel. Yikes. SO, moral of the story: Take them literal when they say don't judge a book by its cover, because they kind of know what they're talking about.

Speaking of being dirty, I was recently called a dirty-bird for posting a picture of Michael Phelps, but honestly I don't see what's dirty-birdish about speedos and a fantastic physique. It's art. Also, I was likened to another blogger that likes to link his page to those with questionably crocheted objects. While the things I write about and post might be a little random, I think they're in no way comparable to a vulva made of yarn.

If you don't agree, though, I'm really sorry!

Pimp Living in Cali

Look where I could live for $625 a month, if only I were so lucky:

Or this one here, listed at $810 -- such a deal:

This one's my favorite, $725 and described as "cute and cozy" (I just see a carport and dirt lot but I'll take their word for it):

Kind of sad (depressing?)...but then I drive to the beach and dig my toes into the sand and remember why I'm trying so hard to stay here.

Awe yes, that's why I like it so much.

More random than the above were my thoughts today, one of them being how certain songs have somehow made up a soundtrack for my life. I'm sure many people feel the same way, I just think it's funny (strange, silly, weird) how one note or one catchy phrase can replay an entire period or moment of life. I had my ipod on shuffle as I drove to class today, and 3 songs played in a row that made me think of someone I don't much want help thinking about. For a moment I wanted to live in that memory again because it was once wonderful and exciting, but I couldn't because it now just ties my stomach in knots. (Why does it still do this to me? Dammit.) Unfortunately, the fact that I relate music so closely with life is that certain songs/artists/bands are annoying when once they were good. Take for example: John Mayer. I used to think he was mellow and insightful, now he's just a douchebag. Poor guy, it's not his fault really. But I'll get over it, I just need to keep moving forward as I have been. Soon new memories will replace those old ones, and they will be so much more wonderful and exciting because they'll be genuine and meaningful. They will be the real deal. HE will be the real deal. I'm patiently waiting, by the way. I'm in no rush, but I am excited to see what songs will forever make me happy because they'll remind me of when he came into my life and blessed me with a lasting friendship and love. We'll be so lucky :)

Okay, enough randomness for tonight. Another early morning alarm clock tomorrow morning, yay!

Why Do I Like Goofy White Guys?

Peyton Manning's kind of funny, and I have a little crush on him :)

Saturday Night Live - United Way



New Peyton Manning World MasterCard Commercial



And while this kid's face sort of reminds me of someone I'd rather forget, his body is ridiculous, and I kind of like:



Oh my! Okay, I'm done. Now I'm going to bed!

Writing Poetry

I hadn't written a poem in over a year, and then a few months ago I started jotting down ideas and feelings in a journal. Today I came across that journal again, and I actually still kind of liked what I wrote. So I thought I'd share them with you. Fair warning, though, they're kind of sad. I need to learn to write when I'm happy too :)

“Lament (If Only He Knew)”

The rhythmic pounding of my heart

once gently calling out a name

that brought me comfort, that drove me crazy,

that wanted me,

now afflicting me with each cruel beat.

Wishing it would cease for just one moment,

I’m suffocating.

I’m longing to breathe, to be free

from your insensitive touch.

If only you knew the pain you’ve caused,

the doubt you’ve created,

the softened heart you tore open.

If only you cared.

Your chest would tighten with pressure,

every warm pulse rushing through your body

would remind you of the girl you once loved,

the girl you broke so willingly.

She would stay with you.

Her soft touch, her deep sincerity, would haunt you.

Your face would crash into your hardened hands

with shame, and you would break.

Your sorrow would be my recovery,

my vindication.

If only.

(joanna lynn)

“Unforgivable”

Fingertips moving ever so gently,

across her skin passion traced every curve.

Your heart enveloped hers, as your words took hold

meeting the air she breathed.

Chemistry sparked thoughts of forever,

getting lost in a haze circling dreams of forever.

Your lips pressed against pieces unmatched,

submissively giving and taking in.

Two bodies broken, divided and undone,

came together with forceful vulnerability.

Intensity held down arms stretched above,

tenderly accepting every inch of perfect imperfection.

She was lost in the rush of a moment,

your touch calming the shake of her legs

as your eyes settled on hers.

A moment once strongly held onto,

now torturing silent nights,

now hurting a heart once free.

Shamelessly walking away without regret or reason,

you left behind the one that felt you deepest,

without regret or reason.

Selfless and purely her heart reached for yours,

standing peacefully near your chaos asking for nothing.

A fleeting sensation, a passing current,

a moment given in confidence coldly broken.

Time promising memories to be replaced,

yet never to be forgotten.

Guarded against softly moving fingertips,

her tenderness readily letting go of the pain,

your callous doing.

(joanna lynn)

"Going to the Chapel..."

So last week I saw a dream, a vision of mine, standing right before my eyes. It was even more amazing and more beautiful than I had pictured. I was never the kind of girl who had these big dreams about her wedding day or planned every detail of it, but after my second sister's wedding a couple of years ago I sort of got to thinking about my own someday. I thought it would be nice to get married in a church, and for some reason I imagined a chapel-ish church with vaulted wood ceilings, wood pews, and stain glass windows. I'd never seen it before in person, but I saw it as clear as reality in my head. This beautiful church, multiplied by ten, is what I saw last week in Los Olivos, California. It is grand yet cozy, and for some silly reason it took my breath away and made me want to dance. Silly, ofcourse, because it's just a church...

Although it is just a church, it made me think about how real our dreams and desires can be. It made me think that if something as small and simple as the church I saw myself getting married in exists, then maybe the man I see myself marrying exists too. I don't expect him to be some fairytale, or perfection in anyway, but to be someone that fits me. I found this description of what one woman called her "dream man", and I would have to say it's mine too:

“You’re soft enough to hold me
And
Strong enough to let me roam
You’re patient enough to get to know me
And
Independent enough to live on your own
You’re man enough to know what love is
And
Boyish enough to make me smile
You’re old enough to understand life
And
Open enough to laugh at it all the while
You’re rich enough to know what really matters
And
Free from work enough to have a good time
You’re passionate enough to really enjoy kissing
And
Connected enough to know that making love is divine
You’re romantic enough to court me
And
Sweet enough to bring me flowers
You’re clever enough to get me thinking
And
Funny enough that together we laugh for hours
You’re aware enough to know your own feelings
And
Contemplative enough to share them with me
You’re honest enough to live with honor
And
Candid enough to know what the consequences of lying will be
You’re instinctive enough to read these words
And
See, that the qualities I desire in you are the same ones you see in me”

What I want to find is something so much more than just a feeling. I'm not looking for eternal butterflies in my stomach, or to dance on cloud nine removed from the realities of day to day life. I want a real life person, someone willing to put time and effort and hard work into his relationships because he understands they need it to grow. I don't want someone who makes me want to be a better person, but someone who I feel free to be the best me around. I want someone with a great heart.

The older I get and the more I do, the more I wish he were standing beside me celebrating my successes and crying over my letdowns. But I don't want just anybody standing beside me. I'm not so eager to be a part of a couple that I won't take the time to find the right one, because I don't fall into feelings that easily. Though I get lonely without him, I have a lot to do and things to accomplish to keep my life fulfilling. I know that life doesn't begin just because I find someone to love. I think that meeting him, getting to know him, falling in love with him, and spending my life with him will only add to the fulfillment I'm already finding on my own (though I think a life without him would never be the same).

So that's where a beautiful church in Los Olivos led me :) I'm tired for the night, and daunted by a 6:30am alarm clock, so I'll end this here blog for now. Goodnight!