A Lot

Today is a lot. 

A lot, a lot.

The kind of  "a lot" that makes me want to watch The Titanic and When Harry Met Sally and write a new chapter in a story I'm working on about a beachtown. 

- it's the kind of "a lot" that makes me want to paint a picture when I've run out of words, and to fall asleep for days and days and days; to hold a sleeping baby and to be hugged and rocked and soothed for one whole hour.

The kind of "a lot" that keeps me from eating, and makes me want to lay on a blanket and stare at the sky until the world starts to make a little bit more sense.

The kind of "a lot" which makes me want to jump to conclusions and scramble for control, and to hastily find a way to "fix" things- even when at the bottom of all of those jitters, I know at my very core that the only real answer is to give everything an insurmountable amount of time.

The kind of "a lot" where I really want a pedicure, except for the fact that I don't want anyone to actually touch me.

The kind of "a lot" when you've made a sudden, overwhelming realization, and the gravity, and the depth, and the reality starts to sink in- and before you know it, everything regarding that realization feels like a 1,000 pound weight across your shoulders.

The kind of "a lot" which belongs to Holden Caulfield, and to this song, and to the fact that I just wish I could lock myself in an aquarium and watch an octopus change the density and color of its skin to reflect its moods, and wonder if I had that power, just what color would my skin be, today?

Mamma T.

Don't you just wish sometimes you could be more like Mother Teresa?

I found this picture online today- a black and white stillframe of her and a nameless young man releasing a dove- both pairs of hands thrust forward into the air.

The look of joy on her face was insurmountable.

I think she must have given the most incredible hugs, no?

Lovers, I want things.  Silly things.  I want possessions.  I want sequins.  I want parties with lights and streamers.  I want denim shorts with lace detail.  I want a tiny, snuffly Pug puppy to love me and lick my toes.  I want a small blonde child wearing a hipster beanie and a miniature-sized Ramones t-shirt with baby combat boots. I want a black Dolce and Gabanna lace dress. I want a wood deck overlooking a deep, wooded forest- on which are perched two mismatched, well-loved mugs full of hot coffee, one for me and one for my lover.

I want to marry a surfer guy.  I want an original brick accent wall in my kitchen. I want an aqua-colored trucker hat that says Be Happy! on the front. I want Greece, I want Finland, I want prosciutto wrapped truffle fries.  I want fried plantains.

I want henna tattoos and bridesmaids and overalls and a hot air balloon ride.

I want a flatter stomach and I want a kiss from a friendly elephant.  I want an entire plaster exterior wall painted in a chipped, cracking, fading, beautiful shade of Spanish yellow.

I want so many rings for my small fingers.

I want a fire on the beach.  I want more red solo cups in my life. I want citronella candles and new guitar strings and I want to sleep until I feel better.  I want everything on my Pinterest to be real.

Do you think Mother Teresa ever wanted any of those things?

Do you think Mother Teresa ever wasted any time wanting what she did not have?

Sometimes thinking about Mamma T. makes me distraught.

I am selfish, Mamma T.

I am little and scared.

Lord, have mercy on my greed and insatiable desire for everything, and nothing.

Help me to be beautiful, like Mamma T.

"There are people who can afford the luxury to live in great comfort; it is possible that they have earned the privilege by their efforts.  What irritates me is to see that extravagance exists.  It irritates me to see some people waste and throw away things that we could use.

What is a Christian? Someone asked a Hindu man. He responded, the Christian is someone who gives.

Open your hearts to the love God instills in them.  God loves you tenderly.  What He gives you is not to be kept under lock and key, but to be shared.  The more you save, the less you will be able to give.  The less you have, the more you will know how to share."

-Mother Teresa.

Honesty.

"I am colorblind. Coffee black and egg white. "

My ideal love song is Leather and Lace, by Stevie Nicks and Don Henley.

My primary love language is quality time - my second string is words of affirmation. This love tank is completely empty.

I long for the day when overalls make a comeback and are acceptable to wear in public again.

I live every day with the fear and the feeling that no-one in my life loves me. Especially during the past two weeks, I have felt to the very depth of my core, that I have been left behind by some of whom are most important to me. Even though I have no reason to feel this abandonment.

I love road trips.

I have ten fingers and ten toes.

I possess an invalid fear of the state of Utah.

I don't understand how to respect my body. On the days when I love it, I cheapen it by showcasing it provocatively, and I exploit it.

On the days when I hate it, I wish and will it so much harm, that sometimes I do indirectly end up hurting it.

Every morning I wake up a new person because of what Jesus Christ did for me by dying on the cross for my sins.

I know what it's like to love someone miles away and years apart from you.

Sometimes I wish that I knew how to play the drums.

I'm terrified of everything.

I don't trust people. Ever.

"I've got one hand in my pocket and the other one is.." ..... Not giving a high-five.

I eat my feelings.

I struggle with anxiety. Tonight I stopped breathing. I had forgotten how to.

I drive a Volvo wagon. People make fun of my car, sometimes. Sometime I think that car is the love of my life.

I would put money down on the fact that I firmly believe Julia Child loved the Rolling Stones.

In addition to bringing back overalls, I would love it if they brought back ruffled socks with lowtop converse. That look was legit.

I don't believe most of my closest friends read my blog. This makes me feel sad. Some of them do- and I'm thankful for those ones because that means they're the ones who understand my heart the most.

I feel loved when people eat my food.

I feel more loved when they look into my eyes, and they smile, and they tell me, "I love you because you are more of a Martha than you are a Mary."

I haven't heard that in a while.

I have strange abandonment issues- and I don't know where they came from because no-one in my life has ever actually abandoned me.

I am a youngest child.

When I was a little girl, I claimed to hate the color pink. But now I think it might be my favorite color.

I'm the most bitter person I've ever met- and I know a lot of bitter people.

I am forgiven.

I am heard- even when I don't feel like anyone is listening.

I've only been pulled over once, because my tail-light was out.

I feel incredible loss over the fact that I don't have a grandparent I can talk to. And the replacement grandparents just never seem to stick around for long.

I throw people away easily.

I really, really, really like taking pictures, and I'd love to take a photography class someday.

Country roads are my favorite.

Sometimes, most times, I speed.

I miss my friends, because they all seem to live far away from me- but more than anything, I miss them, missing me.

I am far from perfect.

I am blessed.

I am gifted.

This is who I am.

"Come on, try a little- nothing is forever, there's got to be something better than in the middle. Me and Cinderella put it all together- and we can drive it home with one headlight."