New Year's Resolution

I'm not big on New Year's Resolutions. For the most part, they're just obligatory soon-to-be-forgotten goals made at the start of a new year. What makes those goals so much more special than others? Because it's a fresh start. Usually my "resolutions" are made up of something cynical.

However, cynical isn't going to work for me this year. The year that lies ahead promises that there are difficult and trying times. It warns of change, good and bad. It's the ending of an era. The ending of lots of things. But mostly, it's offering a new beginning, and not just to me, but all those around me.

To Matt...I hope he finds what he is looking for.

To Brenna...I hope you see you the way God sees you.

To Mom & Dad...may our friendship continue to grow.

To Kristin...may you find peace in the present.

To Leah...comfort in your new future.

To all my friends....that you LIVE every moment you are given.

And to myself....I make a new resolution I hope to keep....

To be healthy and happy in this new year that God has given me.

A Single Rose

I've always enjoyed getting flowers, even if it is a rare occassion. Who doesn't enjoy getting a dozen roses? But even more intoxicatingly beautiful is a single red rose. Nothing can haunt one's soul more than a single rose. A single rose is so powerful and strong, it can stand alone in it's beauty. A single rose is really, the most beautiful of all.

I am a single rose.

The problematic thing is...I act like a carnation. Carnations are kind-of the loser flower if you ask me. They're cheap, anyone can get them, and no one really wants one. C'mon, who wants a dozen carnations? They're kinda the reject flower that everyone throws out. And that's kinda how I feel.

I've been single a long time now. I'm tired of being treated like a second-rate carnation. Guys are overlooking me constantly. And if someone tells me one more time, "You're time is coming." Or "It'll happen when you least expect it." I might scream. I've been "least expecting it" for years now. When will someone see this rose for who she is?! I'm tired of being single. I want to share my beauty with someone else. I want to share in someone else's life. I want to be a wife.

So until then, this rose is going to keep acting like a carnation...because that is all I know how to be.

Guaranteed To Make You Smile

Especially for cat owners...

In A Barbie World

**WARNING! **There is a pretty good chance that this post will offend a few dozen people or so. However, I am not going to apologize for this. It's the writer's own personal opinion, of which they are entitled to. It doesn't make it right or wrong, and it doesn't mean it's directed towards anyone in particular. It's just something that has been on the writer's heart lately.

If you are a member of the coffee-shop crowd, this may not be for you. If you are into the "psuedo-indie-emo-lovin'-the-grass-outta-ya" lifestyle, this might not be for you. If you talk the talk, and walk the walk, and punch a few people in the face along the way, this might not be for you. If you get uncomfortable reading this, I might actually may be writing this for you.

I've got a problem. I see a lot of Ken & Barbies waltzing about the streets of my city. Down my street in fact. And maybe it's not just my city, my state, or my neighborhood that Ken & Barbie live in. These Ken & Barbies look like real people, they wear human-like clothing, they have human-like occupations, and they even appear to be friendly (c'mon, who hasn't heard of Barbie's best friend Teresa?). I'm here to say that they are fake. They are not real people...in case you weren't sure of this fact.

I teach high-schoolers. The all-time masters and commanders of imitation. "Kens & Barbies," if you will. They take an image, something they likely weren't created for, and they try to squish themselves into that Barbie's clothing. It annoys the hell out of me to see this happen. But it unfortnuately doesn't stop in high school. It happens after they've gone to college, graduated, and lived life a little bit too.

And have you ever noticed how Barbie finds her Ken? If Ken is dressed as a Hawaiian hula dancer, business woman Barbie dresses as a hula dancer. Does that make her a hula dancer? NO. Lawyer Barbie finds African Safari Ken, and all of a sudden we find Barbie exploring the jungles of the world. Then we have white middle-class working man Ken who finds his perfect Parisian Barbie. Then all of a sudden, bon jour madame! We have Parisian Ken. Does changing one's outfit make one a different person? Does changing your location make you a different person? Why is it that people try changing themselves to fit into other people's molds? It pisses me off. Everyone else is taken, be yourself!

I'm tired of fake people. I'm tired of people trying to fit in.

So this post is a disappointment. I don't think it says what I'm trying to say. But there's not another way I can think of to put this stuff without just trampling over everyone. And while some of you maybe thinking, "Well, I'd trample over everyone despite what they'd think," that's not the way I roll. I don't believe in tearing others down in the pursuit of honesty. Because then it's not honesty, it's judgement, it's self-righteousness, and it's rude, and the worst kind of criticism humans can offer.

I'm not perfect. I don't try to be, just ask my students. They will vouch for my self-awareness of imperfections. But there is one thing that I am pretty damn good at. And that's being me, and no one else. So be yourself. Stop being a Ken or a Barbie. It's the best advice I can give.

Good-bye Santa Claus!

The illustration at left shows the extent of Arctic sea ice (the north pole) on Sept. 16. The one on the right is the extent on the previous record low, set on Sept. 21, 2005.

God is good.

God is good.

Chronic Sense of Exhaustion...

Chronically exhausted. That's how I feel. Something as joyous as going and praising God for 1 1/2 hours just drained the life of me. The worst part is that I must confess, I was so completely and utterly exhausted that I didn't even really enjoy it.

I've entered this monotonous state of being quietly, and unsuspected. And to my dismay, it does not appear to have an end in sight. What ever happened to the light at the end of the tunnel? Mine got tired, and burned out. Is there a cure for this endless tired? It appears not. The cure seems to be my ill; to continue working. The thing that poisions me is the very thing I crave. Why? And when I do find a moment to steal away, it still beckons. Not one time, not two, but four. GRRR! The frustration of these moments are the most unbearable. I just...don't know.

I'm just so ffing tired. I loathe the feeling. I couldn't being to tell you what....or why, or who even. All I know is that I pray to God constantly that it will end very soon.