pickled eyes

A couple nights ago, Mattea (my 17-year-old sister) & I were tucking Zoe (our 7-year-old sister) in bed for the night. While I picked out her bedtime story from the MILLIONS okay, not quite millions, but really close of books on Zoe's shelf, Mattea drew a picture for her on her easel. The picture started with a pretty fabulous-looking tree, and then she decided to draw Zoe standing under the tree. As a cute little cartoon version of Zoe materialized on the white board, this is what I heard:

Mattea: "...here's your hair...your dress... your big-old-eyes..."
Zoe: "HEY!! I don't have pickled eyes!!!"

Oh, to be 7. It was a perfect moment with my little sisters.

gratefulness

I have so much to be so grateful for right now, but of course I've been nothing but miserable (at least inwardly miserable) for days. It's just so hard to see outside myself sometimes, & as selfish as that makes me sound, it's so true. So to snap myself out of this ridiculous, stress-induced funk, I've decided to make a list of things (typical & not-so) that I'm grateful for (just a tad bit late for Thanksgiving, I realize):

-my huge, confusing, beautiful family.
-my friends. everywhere. houghton, naz, & scattered in various places across the globe. I wish I could gather you all in one place sometime. I'm positive you'd all love each other.
-the bird singing outside my window at this very moment, reminding me that spring is somewhere in our future.
-beauty. there's so much of it in this world that it overwhelms me. constantly.
-the fact that it's solely my prerogative whether I choose to capitalize sentences or not.
-words, music, & art. without these, life would be so plain. I'd also be a lot less geeky, which would be kind of boring.
-my two new jobs, neither of which have started yet (which gives me a solid week & a half to get my act together).
-grad school. it's one of the hardest things I've ever loved.
-my lovely man (have I mentioned that this list is not at all in order of importance?). luke is at the tippy-top of my friend list, but he really deserves a number all to himself. he's my very best friend, & I can't even begin to explain how happy I am to have him in my life.
-of course, jesus. I really & truly cannot conceive of a life without faith. oh, I'm sure it can be done. it's just that I don't want to try it. & while I'm on the subject, boy, has my faith ever changed in my (almost) 24 years on this earth. if I could go back, I certainly wouldn't change anything, but I'm very glad to be just exactly where I am.
-& if I'm being really honest, I have to include myself in here somewhere. when no one else is around, it's just me, god, & the dust bunnies. I'm learning to enjoy that quiet space.

Jack Kerouac, who happens to be one of my favorites (haters: don't even get me started.), includes this in his Belief and Technique for Modern Prose:

"Be in love with your life"

I intend to.

the easiest test I'll ever pass

This morning, I had to come out early to Rochester for my drug test for Mary Cariola. I definitely have no cause to be nervous, but I also wasn't exactly excited by the thought of having hair clipped from several places on my head to be tested in a lab. It's kind of just weird.

The place was really nice. I walked in & there wasn't a soul in the waiting room, which is always a good sign. I filled out my paperwork, sat there awkwardly for a few minutes, and finally my name was called. I was about 5 feet from the door when the woman, who looked far too posh to be stuffed in a doctor's office said, "Oh my gosh, look how cute you are!"

Let me tell you, internet, I was expecting to lose hair; I was expecting to sign papers. Having someone fawn over my good-smelling hair, my "cute personality," and my "ADORABLE OUTFIT," and lamenting over the lack of engagement ring on my finger (hey, she asked) was so not what I expected. It almost kind of makes me want to go back for another drug test the next time I'm needing a little self-esteem boost. Do they allow purposeless drug tests?

As I left her office, she called after me, "baby doll, you call me up when you get that ring!"

She was just so sweet, I kind of actually want to.

a jungian field day

Okay folks, this dreaming business is getting out of control.

In the last three nights, I've had three terrible dreams. About three people whom I love dearly who don't just hate me in Dream World, they want me to either be killed violently or to live miserably. Uplifting, right?

I won't name names just because that could get awkward, but so far, this is what I've been up against:

1) The first night, I was being chased and psychologically tortured, and finally, I ended up locking myself in a little room in a basement while Maniac Dream Person was scratching crazily and blood-thirstily at the door so he could get in and kill me. No, tear me to shreds. Then I woke up.

2) The second night, the person just plain hated me. She said horrible things to me, about me, and looked at me with more contempt in her eyes than I've ever seen in real life. The worst part was that in my dream, I was well aware of the fact that we had been dear friends at one point, so it made the sadness (& creepiness) of it all so much more painful. (Maniac Dream Person #2 actually knows that I had this dream, and she is not the least bit evil in real life, nor does she hate me. Although after that dream, I won't say I didn't need a little reassuring.)

3) The third night was another one that didn't want me dead but wanted me very, very unhappy. This one is harder to explain properly without giving away the real-life person, but I'll just say this: this person knew that if she replaced me with a certain other person, it would destroy my world. In too many ways to count. So she did it, and she looked like she actually enjoyed the resulting pain.

Had these dreams all come after I watched Black Swan last night, I might just brush them off as after-shocks from a psychologically-draining (not to mention INSANE) movie. The problem with that is they started before the movie, so now I can't blame them on the movie. The other problem is that I know I can be insecure, but BROTHER, this is just ridiculous. Is my subconscious trying to tell me something? Gracious.