Confident

     I want everyone in the world (or the three people who actually read my blog) to know that I'm happy exactly who I am. Sure, a "key" to happiness is probably bull crap, but confidence is my key. That's because God made me exactly the way He wants me. It's a happy thought. Even those stupid things like how I am way too sarcastic most of the time come from my divine DNA (not doctrine, don't quote me). But it's totally cool. I'm rad.
     Also, I'm super hilarious. I make myself laugh basically every other second of my life. The remaining seconds I spend sleeping. Or laughing. Or in pain with stupid headaches. Whatever. Pain means I get drugs which means I get uber happy again. Also, I'm funny cause I don't care what people think about me in that "she's strange" sort of way.
     And adventure makes everything exciting, and it isn't necessarily traveling the world. (By the way, job interview for Taiwan went well. Hoping a position will open up for February.) Adventure is changing your routine, learning something new, doing a headstand. Seriously. Try it. I can't, they give me headaches. I found adventure in editing and writing cool things. (This doesn't really count as cool; it's actually pretty dull.) I've given up bumming with people who don't like to have fun. I've got to laugh. E'ry day. Make me smile or I'll throw myself into an industrial blender. Except when I'm sleeping. Even then, I get pretty funny at four a.m. One time my friends and I drove down to California from Idaho. We all slept (except the driver, hopefully) like roadtrippers do, until like three in the morning. Then we woke up and had a glorious time together. Strange how night does that to people. Day=serious. Though I'm a morning person. Always a morning person. So I'll go to bed at nine and wake up at four and parteeee with all the sleepy zombies.
     This isn't like a normal essay with a thesis in the first paragraph and reasons in the body and a (w)rapper  in the conclusion. I ramble. Get over it.
     I do things I want to do. I have this idea that if you admit that something's annoying or stupid or biased or naive, you're allowed to do it without the normal repercussions. That means I can text someone six thousand times in a row with the preface of "I'm just about to be super annoying," and they can't do a single thing about it. Also, that means I answer to no one. I hate the idea of having to account for every second of my day to anyone (except maybe the Big Guy).
     One time I kayaked down a river with a guy I had a super crush on. Oh, how lovely and romantic it could have been. Instead, I shredded all my thoughts through a filter until only gargles and bubbles came out. He never fell in love with me. That's when I learned to stop caring.
     This is me. Not caring. ♥

     P.S. I graduate in exactly a week from this moment (give or take an hour or so). Good bye, Rexburg. Good bye, friends. The next few blogs will be dedicated to the people I will miss and the reasons I will miss them. It might be gooey and vomity. I hate sentimental rot.
     False. I won't write all the reasons I'll miss everyone. That'd be boring.

Fairy Dust

I found this list today. Untitled. Undated. But I'll give it this title, Think of a Wonderful Thought, and this date, November 14, 2012. They still apply.

Old houses

Grave yards

Sprinklers on bike rides

Children's laughter

A great, unique chord progression

Alliterations on accident

Biting hard candies

Peppermint ice cream shakes

Free food

Cool dreams

A good mood

An inside joke that no one else understands

A crush on a boy you can never date

A conversation with a stranger

Telling a secret and losing that burden

Kicking over soda cups left in parking lots

Clapping after movies

Finding a secluded spot to blow my nose

Letting go of balloons

Accidentally touching someone’s hand

Compliments

Freshly brushed teeth

Crossing things off lists

Giggling to myself

Singing to myself

Masking truth with sarcasm

Purposely touching someone's hand and writing it off as an accident
Warm water
Best friends
Sleeping in

Mellow

Then there’s another feeling called mellow.

You honestly can’t remember why you stayed up late last night but it had something to do with that giddy feeling, or its opposite - the feeling when you think deeply about possible outcomes and weigh them against the desires of right now.

You don’t know if it’s worth risking whatever you’ll risk but you really just want to have what you want to have.

Screw next week, you tell yourself. I want the world. I want the whole world. I want it now. For just one day can’t I be a natural, carnal, selfish devil?

But you know it doesn’t work like that.

Consequences.

Your friends give you disapproving glances and you yell at them. You say you’re sorry and that you just need to do it before you regret it. You’d rather have the “I shouldn’t have done it” than the “What if I had?” You don’t want regrets but you’ll regret either way.

But will you regret making that giddy dream a reality, just for a day, to know if it is or is not meant to be?

Even though there’s no such thing as meant to be.

“Meant to be” is what you think God has in mind for you combined with what you want for yourself.

Remember: God’s not going to push you down a miserable slide. He’ll make you climb steep steps in haunted houses holding the hand you’ve wanted in yours since spring. He’ll make you trip over your friend and bonk heads with another until you’re all bonked out and you can’t even keep your head up at dinner. He’ll give you cuts and scrapes until even the sun can’t keep you awake and you know crap sometimes gets hard. He’ll make you understand that your wish is not His command.

But He’ll fill the chasm between you and your best friend. He’ll put that hand in yours even if it isn’t the best for you right now. He’ll put your mind in a pencil sharpener until it writes clearly, and He’ll give you an extra hour of sleep every November just so you can catch up enough to make it till December, and He’ll give you a chance for adventure even though it scares the living hell out of you, and He’ll forgive you when you say living hell. And again. And He’ll make it all okay.

And just like your giddy feeling, you can’t really make people understand this feeling called mellow unless they too have an existential crisis and they too can’t discern between now and then and want and need and fate and choice and doom.

So instead of even attempting to tell someone, you just tell the story of how his hand found yours in the dark of an empty theatre and maybe, just maybe, they’ll fall into your mind and take a slice of God and understand that He has a perfect plan for every imperfect person and all it takes is a little faith and understanding and time.

And maybe they'll see that giddy always falls to mellow.

And that this is mellow.