These lonely lullabies...

If I could forget home, I would be worried about myself, and in no way do I want to be able to; yet this dull ache really hurts. It's the week of Thanksgiving, and I'm lonely and homesick.

We don't have any traditions in particular traditions at home for Thanksgiving, but just being there was enough. It's like being cradled in a very warm and soft blanket, or being held by your daddy. You feel safe and warm and content-- happy.

I'm going to my sister's house here in San Diego on Wednesday, but until then, I'm just hanging out at school and working on homework. It's lonely.

Do you know, when I'm lonely, I stay up very late? I don't really know why. Just staying on the computer makes me feel as though I have a connection to the world, and if I let go I feel vulnerable. I haven't done that since I was at home. Funny-- I still felt lonely at home. I suppose why it seems more significant is that I haven't felt that way here and haven't stayed up late for that reason until last night. Even so, I miss home.

I do love my school. I'm meant to be here; I've been feeling that strongly. Still- I miss it. It's the familiarity, and the routine, and the people, and how it's relaxed and regular.

I thought last night -- as I was threatening to wallow in self-pity-- about how people all over the world feel particularly sad on holidays because their family members or spouses have died. I feel a little of how they must feel, I think, though not so strongly. They must hurt more than I do. I prayed for them, and that was good. It's like I'm being lonely with people, and then we're not lonely anymore.

-Tina

Be thankful for what precious locks you have!

Starting with "Rugs From Me to You" by Owl City is appropriately fun for talking about my interesting customers at Panera Bread. I got the job, and I work there now!

The first interesting ones were from a group of seniors. The lady in charge drafted me into setting up a row of tables--"ten come sometimes, but twelve other times...let's just set up for twelve..."

So I did, chatting with her all the while as I looked at a bag of things they (presumably) were planning to use-- "we go up and down this street every Monday night!"-- I thought it sounded like fun. They sure seemed to be having a ball! We must've had twelve seniors in that row of tables lined up between a booth and a set of chairs. As I told my coworker, "They're the old people who do aging right and make us jealous." Mmhm. I loved them.

Then there was an excellent old man who leaned his arms on the glass above me as I pulled out pastries to restock our pastry display plates--

"You got a lot of pastries down there?"

"Yep, just restocking them!"

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Going to college soon, then?"

"Yeah, in September. My college starts late and ends late."

"Where are you going?"

"California--"

"Oh!"

"--for film school. I'm going to learn to write for movies." (smiling)

"How long does that take, then?"

"Four years to get a bachelors degree-- unless I decide to get my masters degree. Who knows?"

The man smiles at me conspiratorially, like an old crony, "I got my masters degree."

"Wow, really?"

"Even beyond that! Don't I look it?" There's a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, of course!" There's a twinkle in my eye.

"Now," Getting down to business now, "I want you to pick out the best pecan roll for me."

"All right!"

"Make sure you choose right, now! I'm taking it with me to go. Do you like them?"

"Yes, I do. They're one of my favorite pastries. So sticky and gooey and delicious!"

"My mom used to make them for me."

So I got him his roll (the very best one) and gave it to him in a bag with a napkin, fork, and knife. He was so cool. I liked how he took the time to talk with me.

THEN TODAY I met a woman named Carrie who decided that she wanted a chocolate chip cookie along with her pick-up order-- "You can sprinkle some fertility pills on that cookie for me!" (me: ....)--she's on the phone, so whoever's on the other line asks a question-- "yeah, just told her she can put some fertility pills on my cookie so I can have a baby!"

I wanted to tell her I would pray for her, and that was better, but you know-- sometimes I think it's better if you resolve to do it and don't say anything, especially when you're at work and it's not a Christian workplace. Praying for her, and I hope you'll pray too!

So those are my funny customers: bald, distinguished with several degrees, and wanting a baby! If I meet some more (and I'm sure I will!) I'll post about them, too!

-Tina

p.s., linking up with the draftless challenge over at Dramatic Elegance. :)

The Car Crash of the Century

This post title is not a metaphor.

Hospital Flowers actually applies to me quite well right now, aside from the fact that I didn't go to the hospital and I didn't receive violets filling my room as recompense for the dreadful accident (which would have been nice, I must say).

The story? It was raining very hard, the road was extremely slick, I was in a van with not-so-good tires going along the highway at 55 miles per hour. When the wheel in my hands started to slip wrong ways, I started to worry, but I wrestled it back where it was supposed to be and thought I was okay and only worried that the guys following me would think I looked like I was drunk. (stupid? yes. but that was how I was weaving)

I wasn't okay. The wheels hadn't successfully rebelled, and they were determined to-- so they tried again and succeeded. Maybe I'd overcompensated for the first time I started losing control, or maybe I was going too fast, but in any case, the van whipped around more than 180 degrees and I crashed into the guard rail of the highway and slid down the embankment.

My heart was in my mouth. I thought I was going to die. All I could do as I spun around in what couldn't have been more than ten seconds was try to hold onto the wheel and pray as hard as I could that I didn't hit anyone. The worst possible thing that could happen was me killing someone or severely injuring them in a car accident.

Everything seemed to start again once the car stopped. While I was spinning, it was like time slowed down, because I can remember exactly what I was thinking in those ten seconds, but I can only vaguely remember the details of what happened afterward.

The guys following me pulled off the highway and got me out of the car and sent me to sit in their car, out of the rain, and I tried calling my family members. They didn't pick up at first, but I managed to contact them, especially my dad. My sister even drove out to the accident and gave me a much-needed hug, even though everything was pretty much over by the time she got there.

Firemen and a policewoman came within fifteen minutes of the accident and helped us so much. They were so kind. The firemen even managed to drive the van down the embankment and through a fence gate onto a side street so that we didn't have to pay to get a tow. Thank you Lord!

The policewoman brought me to her patrol car so that we could fill out an accident report. It wasn't until I sat down in the too-little-legroom back seat that I realized I was trembling on the inside; maybe on the outside, too. She was so helpful and good and we filled out the report together really nicely. She didn't put any points on my driving record, but reminded me to check the vehicle condition and take note of driving conditions so that I could drive accordingly. Yes ma'am!

The van still worked to drive, and we actually ended up driving it to our destination, along with the rest of the boys in the other car. One of the guys drove the van for me because I just couldn't do it right then. You know how you can shirk away from some kinds of food if you've just thrown them up from being sick? That's how it was with me.

Our destination was our filming location, actually, and we ended up filming regardless of the accident-- just picked ourselves up and kept going. It was hard, but something good came out of the accident, like in Hospital Flowers. I'd been tense about the filming, about everything going well, and the accident reminded me that I am not perfect. I'm not going to be perfect. I've messed up, and I'm very sure I'll do so again, but that's okay.

Realizing that we're not perfect allows us to move on through our mistakes and make the best of problems, and to give it all to God-- it even allows us to be cheerful about the bad parts of life. If we're stuck in thinking everything HAS to be perfect, when things aren't (as they inevitably will be), then we'll seize up when mistakes happen, or be so stressed about the possibility of bad things happening that we'll freeze and not be able to function.

So even though I felt so cool driving this enormous van in the rain (as I did), on top of the world, I messed up and got knocked off my high horse. And because of that realization of imperfection, I learned some humility and was able to be flexible during filming and be joyful through the times we messed up and try again, and to be okay if things weren't just so, at least most of the time.

Filming went better because of the car crash of the century. Maybe that was my roomful of violets. :)

-Tina

Ablaze With Wondrous Things

These latest posts have been titled with Owl City lyrics for a very good reason.

This is that I absolutely love Owl City. He's an excellent artist, he produces and mixes his own work, and he's very creative. Plus his music stirs new ideas up inside me. It's really wonderful.

His newest CD, All Things Bright And Beautiful, came out today! I hopped on over to my favorite bookstore in town and found it with the help of a sales associate because their organizing system is really awful. You'd think that on the first day of its release they'd put it on the New Release stand, but no! They have no taste.

For me, his songs have to be digested. I listen the first time and get a vague feel for it, but every time I listen after that, it's like I'm discovering a new layer of his intent with the music, and the emotions he means to stir up in the listener. Maybe just the emotions and feelings that are stirred up in me.

An example of this was something I discovered while listening to "Galaxies" for the tenth time the other day. I heard this bit:

"Oh, telescope, keep an eye on my only hope
lest I blink and be swept off the narrow road,"

I never thought of it before, but he sounds like he's reminding himself to keep an eye on God so he stays on the straight and narrow. Wow.

Right now I'm listening to my new CD for the very first time. It's really great and fun so far. His music is fresh and clean and bright and, well, beautiful! I love "Angels"-- it's so beautiful and has a great melodic line.

So there's my fandom and my big, enormous excitement about a whole new CD. I love new CDs that have songs on them that I've never, ever listened to.

Have a lovely night/day!

-Tina

"Home is a boxcar, and it's so far out of reach..."

Number 1:

This is the future: I'm leaving home in four months. Four. September? Nice to meet you and then I leave you.

I'm scared, to tell the truth. The closer I get, the more real it becomes. Up until this point, it's felt like a vague excitement, not quite real. It is real, though. I'm going to leave for months and months.

Is this what college feels like at first? I'll be at a school where I know no one. I know I can make friends. I've got to trust that I can at least, or else I've got no hope and I'll feel awful about college.

I'm going to learn to do what I love. That's my consolation; and maybe, just maybe one day I'll be able to do what I love as a career. I hope so.

Number 2:

I wrote an entire power rangers TV show pilot! Of course, I'm masquerading it as something other than Power Rangers, and it'll be superior to anything that Power Rangers can churn out-- but still. It's the fulfillment of a dream, and that feels so sweet, like a taste of sugar on my lips.

Perhaps, if more dreams don't turn to dust, I'll film a short movie this summer. Oh, I hope so. I just wish that the film people of Grand Rapids would come out of the woodwork and collaborate with me. It would be so awesome if that happened.

Number 3:

I love music, and have started to like some new bands. I first started listening to Owl City about a year ago and loved "Fireflies", but that was only the tip of the iceberg. I liked some of his other stuff, but apparently it improves with age because I've fallen headfirst into an Owl City fandom in listening to his beautiful music. He's a very good artist in that he has lyrics like poetry and music that's so interestingly mixed.

Number 4:

I'm starting to be okay with not being in love or not having boys flirting with me or wanting to go on dates with me. For awhile I thought that I would cave in and break because I wasn't getting love from that outside source, from a boy-- but I've come to be satisfied by God where I am and with how I am loved right now. I've got to be satisfied with myself and the love I've got in God before a man comes into my life. Otherwise it'll be like I'm searching for fulfillment in places other than God. It'll be like I think that a boy can fulfill me and love me better than God can. That's not true, and I need to constantly learn that, every day.

So that's my life right now! I'm doing my best to finish my schoolwork so that I can be done with High School forever, but I'm dreaming of June and the time that I'll have already finished. Those daydreams make me a little less inclined to do the work I've got to do to get there. :P

Talk to ya'll later!

-Tina

Let's spend the afternoon in a cold hot air balloon!

I just babysat my niece and nephew. As they are such close relations and more like a brother and sister than niece and nephew, I have license to be a bit snarky when I'm babysitting them. Or so I tell myself. And I let them play alone and am not completely attentive to them all the time.

This afternoon was a bit different, because I played with both of them for a good part of it.

I was pulled at from both sides. My niece wanted me to be her "Baby" and "My dear", and my nephew wanted me to be a fellow magician and a clown with him. It was quite difficult to find the balance.

Just so I won't forget it, I'm going to write what happened between me and Sophia (my niece) as I was pretending to be her "Dear" at bedtime:

"Mama! Mama!" I say as my niece walks away from me at bedtime.

She doesn't respond and has neglected to pull up the covers, so I pull them over myself.

This brings her running back. "No, no, my deaw! (how she says "dear") You go under the covows!"

"I am going under the covers!"

"No, not like that!"

"Fine, then I won't have covers," I say grumpishly.

She runs away to see her mama, and I lay pretending to sleep. Then I wake up. "Mama, mama! I want you to snuggle me!"

Sophia runs back and slaps her hands over my mouth. "SHH, SHH! You wanna heow (hear) a stowey? (story)"

"Yes, mama!"

"Okay, okay. So theyoh (there) was a little giwohl (girl) and hehw (her) name was Tina and she was walking down the stweet and hehw (her) mama came and said, 'It's time fow bed!", so Tina went to bed and hehw mama didn't snuggle her or do anything and the baby went to bed and stopped cwying."

Then she pats me and runs away again.

How is THAT for a message to me? Be quiet and go to bed!

And then I decided I didn't want bedtime anymore and tried to get up and she pounced on me and put me back to bed again, forcibly!

How's that for a three-year-old mother? She's quite the kid!

-Tina