My brain hurts and my life is complicated.
And I never know what's actually going on.
But I am sitting in a Starbucks with a cup of over-brewed, lukewarm earl grey and have my laptop and I feel very hipster, so I'm blogging.
But I don't actually feel like blogging.
One of those it-would-require-being-way-too-self-aware-for-my-current-psychological-state things.
I miss my mom and my dad and my brothers and my sister and my best friend a lot more than I'm capable of saying.
And I'm having a really amazing time, most of the time. I have people I'm not related to and haven't known my entire life that are under no obligation to like me and yet still elect to hang out with me.  Some of them are male. We spend time as a group. This is weird.
I love people. I love talking to people and meeting people and loving people. I love kids.
But I don't have a solid plan. Ever. And I go places when people tell me to go places, which is sometimes unfun.
This is all the time I have right now. The inside of my head is complicated.
Goodbye.

excited and also terrified

because I'm leaving home tomorrow.  And I'm trying to take a break from my to-do list to feel things, because nothing is going to be real unless I've felt it. So I'm over-the-moon excited, because I'm going to be meeting new people and doing things. Serving God. And I'm excited because I get to go on an adventure, with only God for company. And I'm excited because I get to, I hope, do a little bit of self-reinventing. I say I hope, because somehow I always get into a new situation and just wind up being the same person, but that might just be because I am me, no matter what. What I do want to be is taken seriously. I want to be able to have equal-level conversations and express my thoughts and my opinions and do more than smile and nod and laugh. I want to be more confident. And I want to be, well, I do want to be nice, because I'm naturally a nice person; this world could use a little more general decency and friendliness. But I don't want to be the sort of person that adults whom I would like to treat me as an adult can write off with a high-five and a "You're so polite." Because I'm more than just polite. Actually, I can be very un-polite, very mean and very cynical and very biting when the situation allows for it. It's not something I'm proud of. Mostly, I want to be a person. Not a bad goal, I guess. That word, person, means more to me than the dictionary definition. It's hard to explain.
Also, I'm really, really, really going to miss my sister. And brothers. And Mom and Dad. This is going to be hard.
On a lighter note, my Airplane Entertainment (since this always reverts to an entertainment blog sooner or later) consists of multiple things. Writing or Journaling, supposedly. I always fail at that part. Working on getting through my current Charles Dickens project, Hard Times (which I should probably add to my Classics Club list, as if it needed more Dickens). What'll be playing on my iPod (on my new earbuds, those pretty Macbeth ones? They actually work really great) is likely a combination of the obligatory Athlete-Mumford and Sons-Snow Patrol stuff, along with some new (well, new to me) Fleet Foxes, and fueling my newfound love of The Beatles. Yes, I'm a little late to the party. But I actually do love them, they make me happy; it's not something I'm doing because it's cool. (For more information on my music-liking psychosis, see this post).
But now I need to go set up a Skype account and blog on other websites and spend iTunes cards. Hopefully, I'll be back before long.

On People Younger Than Myself Starting To Encounter the World the Way It Is

Please, world, just be perfect and safe and clean and bright and without ugliness or dirtiness or things that sit on consciences like sugar and caffeine on a sleepless, empty stomach, for my little siblings. For the sake of my brothers and sister, who I'd like to be able to run barefoot in all places without being afraid of stepping on sharp things that will hurt them and make them bleed or germy things that will make them sick or dirty things that will make them feel dirty. Who I'd like to be able to feel always perfect and safe and clean and bright and without ugliness or dirtiness or heavy, sick, unsettled consciences.

The world doesn't work like that, does it? There are germs and sharp things and dirty things, there have always been germs and sharp things and dirty things, and there will always be germs and sharp things and dirty things. So God? If You won't take away the germs, give them, give us, give us all stronger immune systems, stronger defenses. Protect soles and souls like callouses, but keep them soft as infants'. Make us always brave and bright and innocent, even in the face of the scary and the dark and the dirty and the ugly. Don't ever let us be afraid of the ugliness, or of ourselves. Do not let the world weigh too heavy with us. Let us wear Your forgiveness and Your holiness like armor, like skin, like favorite clothes that make us feel strong. But more than anything, God? Stay with us. In Your strength and Your gentleness, like the sunshine, never let us feel alone. Teach us to guard our hearts and minds, and to live in this world without being of it. Let us pass through mud and mire and emerge unsullied. 

"Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching." Hebrews 10:19-25