Eatmores

Well if it hasn't been 11 months since I last updated! I don't update anyway, I ramble, so there's no harm in being lazy for an uncharted amount of time regarding online blogging sites. I have the Israel one, which is over, which is sad, which makes me think that my life is flashing before my eyes. It's been over 3 months since I got back, and what does that leave me with?

A wee bit of a desire to go back. Life was pretty simple in a complicated war.

I ain't gonna start no theme, I'm just gonna be me
And if you gonna start your reemin' there's no saying what I'll see.

Um, ye-e-es.

The best way to curb your appetite? Do something stupid that you'll regret. That'll keep you from even considering that cocoa could be delicious...unless it's the only thing you eat to soothe your nerves...then, uh....that's good?

Skidaddlepants!

One Day at a Time

Reflecting on my past hasn't exactly been a thriller or anything.

But sitting here, listening to an old ripped CD brings me back to high school, which seems like a lifetime ago.

It's amazing how one can change within a year. No one is constant. Sure, people can be stable. But stability differs greatly from constance.

I remember the first 'love' I had. We met through one of my friends in junior high, and I knew from our very first phone call with each other, that I had found someone to return my floaty feelings. Of course, junior high is hormonally succinct with having 15 crushes on random boys in the school, however having attention from the opposite sex was just as prized as wearing a bra (which could also be a factor in gaining attention from boys).

Anyway, I dressed like a total tomboy, so it's not like I attracted many boys. Except this one. He was shorter than I was, but he had the dark hair and dark eyes and musical talent that I craved. Our personalities fit because we were both ready and willing to compromise for one another, and there was always puppy-love chemistry...something that never repeated itself in the same way through my other boyfriends.

Kissing on the cheek was as far as we got, but we both realised that we were too young to do much else. Holding hands was a milestone. Our feelings stirred as we progressed.

But six months later I came to the conclusion that I couldn't have a boyfriend. I was 12 years old. I thought that my mom would be angry, for I was afraid of her. But nevertheless I suppose the underlying reason for our parting was me desiring change. I didn't realise that until just this moment. It amazes me how slack our internal understanding can be sometimes.

I'm sure all our youthful experiences (wait, I'm going through those now) all culminate to equal our life, or at least equal to becoming most of who we are, but at least there's always the present and always to future to create something better. That's where learning from our mistakes comes in.

Not that the boy and I were a mistake. On the contrary, I'm sure we both learned a great deal. Although I miss the naivity of that relationship. The innocence. The true sense of appreciation that came with being in contact with someone 20 km's away. I will always remember him and our friendship - because that's all it really was. A friendship. I miss it, actually.

I have this affiliation thing with certain songs and times of my life. With him, there's nothing bitter about remembering the song "Hanging By a Moment" by Lifehouse. It brings back all these memories that I've just disclosed and is resounding with the sweet nostalgia of 12-year-old life.

I'm in Chinook

So after being dazed by an incredibly random book in Chapter's, I limped across the mall to update this blog, I discovered a Dell kiosk and soon found that their computers don't have internet, the cheap jerks. Nevertheless, I escaped the grip of the salesman. I don't like salesmen unless I ask them for help, to which questions they can never find the bloody answer to or respond to in an understandable dialect. I'm a salesman's daughter. I was a sales(wo)man. Stop selling me North American crap that supposedly we all "need" in order to survive on this planet. Please and thank you give me a tree to live in or a tribe to join.

It's like a gym membership: you pay money to stand on some electronic-controlled, plastic, stationary contraption, through which the exercise never amounts to anything due to the overwhelming amount of junk that you consume. PUH-LEASE. Go the hell outside and move your body like it's supposed to, in real-life air with real-life grass without any useless monitors and machines strapped on. Plus it's free, so take your fill.

Note: these are obviously my opinions based on some research and personal preference. In no way am I asking you to agree with me.

Thanks for reading, anyway.

Components

I like that word. Components.

One day I'm going to see a movie in the theatre by myself. Just because.

And have you looked outside today? I swear a tornado could come at any moment, and I'll be ready when it does! Meet me in the middle of that field when it comes, cause then it'll sweep us out of lil ol' kansas and onto somewhere yonder beyond.

I'm in a stage where I have the desire to create things with my hands (whether that be clothes or art), and the motivation is kicking around somewhere, but I'm almost nonchalant about the whole idea of getting up and actually doing something. I need a routine really bad. I like routine. It's been enough of all-over-the-place spontaneity and even boredom that now I want some structure in my life. When that gets boring, I'll just overhaul it. Or go travelling.

Honestly, I'm so ready to be travelling. I keep thinking about Israel and being amongst the things I love, and even if I don't get accepted into Birthright, I'm still going to go. And from there I'll go to Slovenija. And Turkey. And the rest of Europe. And Spain. And Morocco. And north Africa if it's safe enough. Come with me. Get ready and come with me. We just need to wait a little while longer. A few months at most, and then we'll depart and live a dream life that's been awaiting us ever since we began existing.

G-d has this all figured out, I'm sure. His timing and His direction. I can't sit around waiting for Him, however. I need to start doing something that'll even have a direction. Then G-d will steer my ship to whichever ocean I'm destined to sail.

You, G-d, are my map. From the most secret corner in my soul, I love You.

First and Foremost

So I had another blog. But it's over. The end.

Here's to new beginnings, starting fresh, and a flipped leaf.