To my love

Carolyn, this is for you. Others may read this, but ultimately, this is for you.

I don't know what caused me to think about it tonight, but I did. I thought about the night I was supposed to leave for the Navy. I thought about how you stayed with me all day, smiling as best you could despite what you knew was coming. We walked around, we had dinner, we did anything and everything we could think of just so we could do more things. You stayed with me as long as you could that night - telling *me* to be strong, reassuring *me* that things were going to be okay. I felt so empty once you left, you had very quickly become part of my life. Then you called to wake me up, just to tell me you loved me one more time. You stayed awake until 4am to tell me you loved me once more. I know if I ever told you how much that all means to me. It's not because I forgot, or because I didn't realize it, or because I just didn't think about it -- it's because I didn't, and still don't, have the words to tell you. It ... it just meant so much. I could use different words to try to express it better, but I still don't think it would work. Just thinking about everything that whole day and whole night brings tears to my eyes. You make me happy, and I just wanted you to know that.

Thank you.

I love you.

Five Hundred Twenty Five Thousand...

Okay, so the title's lame, and I can't guarantee the post is going to be any cooler, but it's thoughts I had, and I want to write them down.

The eternal question: what is love? I don't have any concrete answers (yet) but I've got something to say on the topic. So here it is.

What is love? Is love flowers on an anniversary? Or is it an expensive present on christmas? Yes and no. To say no would be a lie, because you have to love someone to want to do something like that for them -- but does that make it the defining factor in love? I don't think so. A paper card with a heart-felt message on an anniversary and "macaroni on cardboard" for christmas would suffice just as well for those two events. It shows that you care enough for someone to take time out of your schedule to do something for them. It shows that you're willing to give them time and materials that you could have used for yourself, but you felt them more important. Because they are. It's a sign of love...

... but it's not *love*. It's just a sign. Of course, I'm sure it's different for everyone. To some people, love is going in debt to get them what they've always wanted. And they're not wrong. Giving up something you've got, to give something they want is always a good sign that you're in love.

But this isn't about where others find love, this is about me. You know, my blog, about me. That's kinda how this works.

I found out what love is to me. Love isn't a ring, it isn't new pants, it isn't a weekend in hawaii. A ring symbolizes the love, pants are something someone you love could use, and everyone loves a weekend in hawaii, but that's neither here nor there.

Love is still-tied shoelaces - tied by the one you love. Love is a stuffed dog that doesn't leave one's side. Love is feeling so comfortable around someone that you want nothing more that to sleep on them -- just to feel for one night that things are okay. Love is listening to something the one you love talks about, that you don't care about, but you listen anyways - just to hear their voice. Love is a set of voice messages that you don't want to delete because they were sent by the one you love. Love is a book with a note written it. Love is "one more minute."

Love is still-tied shoelaces. And I have it.

Back by popular (or singular) demand

So I'm posting again. I'm not very good at this "regular" thing. But I guess when you've got nothing to say, there's no point in repeating that fact.

I've got no job, still. I try to make sure I do something job related every day. Be it taking a skills test, reading the newspaper classifieds, sending my resume somewhere (or 4 somewheres) online, or taking in a job interview. I like how I now do job interviews the way most people take in movies. It feels that way sometimes. You go in with a certain predisposition, which often affects how you experience it. When you're done, you feel like you're slightly different for it, but for the most part, your life would have gone on more or less the same had you not went.

Ok, that was sorta lame.

Nonetheless, I don't know what I want to do with my life again - par for the course these days. Still have most of the desires to be an 8 year old again. It's a big problem for me. I can't accept the fact that I need to be responsible, I need to be old, I need to be assertive. I'm not these things, but I guess I need to learn how. I need to figure out what I want, and go for it. That should be easy enough.

What do I want?
What do I need?

...

Why do I bet that those two are not going to have the same answer. Life doesn't tie itself up nicely like that... too many loose ends, too many frayed edges... it's never a simple solution.

Never.

WhoWhereWhat?

I am becoming lost again. That's not quite true actually. I know very well where I am. The Here and Now of things is as clear as it's ever been. It's where I'm going, where I'm headed, what I'm to become that has become like the mist of a late evening or early morning. It's all around you, you feel it everywhere you go and in everything you do... but you can't touch it, you can't manipulate it, you can't really affect it except to move through it and see what's on the other side.

I look at jobs, I look at schools, I look at new careers. I look at things like I'm 8 again. What do I want to be when I grow up? I'm 23 - and I want to be a construction worker, a fire fighter, a police officer. About the only thing I don't want to be is a cowboy.

So, ultimately, if you've got career suggestions or jobs for me, please, do share :) I'd love to have a job.

Oh - and can you find the subtle change in my board? Good luck!

Hmm

19 days and the world's not stoppin'

Things are reeling so fast, and I don't know what to do....

I couldn't wait for October to get here so I could get going on it, and now I can't believe it's 19 days away. It seems like so much time is just... *gone*

But I've got 19 days to live it up. Guess I'll get on that, then.

*taps foot idly*

pichu!

Pichu! Pichu!

Piiiiiii-Chu!

Pi!



....chu...

???

I just don't know...

fear of being happy, perhaps?