Let me share with you part of a letter I received yesterday afternoon:

“This letter serves as a 45 day notice to terminate your lease as of January 17, 2009.”

Out of 8 total sentences in this letter, this is the second one. One that could be spoken to my roommates and myself since my room sits right above my landlords office. We share a two story house, and have for two years. Six weeks ago, my friend signed a lease to move in. December 2nd, that all changed.

After I read this letter, I was in a wave of emotion. Really sad, as I looked around at my brown walls, I love my brown walls. I called to share with my roommate, the one who had just moved in six weeks ago, to tell her the news. She was pretty upset and who could blame her? Why have someone move in when you are even thinking of doing this? Getting a couple months rent, thats really nice. I didnt call my other roommate, who was in the middle of a long 14 hour shift. I called Jace and read him the letter. I started to cry for a numbers of reasons when asked “What are you thinking?”

I know God will provide – He has already reminded me that I will have a roof over my head with a handful of offers from friends who offered my their spare room (but only one with a Big Bunny). Though that doesnt mean this isnt hard and put a lot of unknowns out there. My little house is going to try and look for a place together. We’ve moved on from bitterness to the pros we will have at our new place. Washer and Dryer! Living room! Dishwasher! Still, Im sad to have to leave my downtown apartment that Ive grown to really like. Moving is a pain and especially in the middle of Christmas time.

Wish me luck as I look for a new home.

Im a horrible sick person.

One of my friend said she wants her husband to sit and stare at her like her mom use to do. Just sit there and rub her face and just sit there with her. I am not that way. I want you to bring me drugs to make my head not feel like a bowling ball and go away. Yes, thank you, you are very kind for bringing me these things, now go away.

I started to feel bad Thursday night, but I thought it was lack of sleep from all the storm watching. Friday morning, even after sleeping in I felt tired and a nasty sore throat. I had a full day planned, so I ignored my sore throat all day long. Saturday, a day off to hang out with Jason. I felt in a fog for the morning but keep pushing on, all the while being very moody at Jason. We went to his house where I just crashed as my laundry washed. This morning I wanted to get up and go to church but I couldn’t believe how tired I was, so I stayed home. Or as Carla once told me attend “Bedside Baptist”. Jason called to see if I felt up to going out to lunch with friends from church. First thing that came to my mind? I didnt go to church so I wasnt “allowed” do anything else. You know, like when I was a kid if I didnt go to school because I was sick, I wasnt allowed to do anything in the evening. I know I could of gone out to lunch, its just funny what popped into my head from childhood.

After sleeping a couple more hours I got up to keep moving on my spring cleaning piles. I almost fell over from my head hurting and being sleepy. So I went back into my bed and spent the day in and out of sleeping this cold off. This is where Im a really bad sick person – Im home so I want do things while Im home. I dont want to waste the day away just being sick. Being in my bed all day having lists rolling around in my head of things I could be doing things instead. I think my body fought my mind well enough by making me extra sleepy despite the 10 hours of sleep I got last night.

I have a super busy week ahead of me, lets hope Day and NyQuil do their job and well.

I have an amazing church community. When I say that, I dont mean it in a we have the best church ever or we have it all together sorta way. I say it in a, these people are family to me. Tonight after a leadership meeting my friend Jimmy, who is also my pastor, gave me a hug. He always gives hugs, hes what you call a hugger. Im not so much of a hugger, but I find myself giving more hugs the more soaked in this community I am. A lot of the men in the church are huggers, which I think is great. This hug that Jimmy gave me was bittersweet. It was one of those, they hug you but you dont hug them back kind. I wanted to hug him back, but I was holding back tears I didnt want to spill in the mist of the group. This hug was long, as if he was waiting for a hug back but also knew that I couldnt. In that moment all the pushed a side feelings of missing my family came flooding in. The hug reminded me of my dad, who Im not sure when Id get to see next. Im not trying to be a sob story here, I know there are bigger things in the world than me missing my family so part of me feels silly. At the same time, the little girl inside of me just doesnt care about those bigger things – I miss my family. I love my youth job, but it only being part time I have to get benefits elsewhere so I work the other half of my week at Starbucks for those. In order to keep my benefits I have to work 20 hours a week. So in order for me to go on a youth trip for a week in June, I have to use my vacation time at Starbucks. Which means no trip to California to see my family. Jason asked me after Christmas this past year if we could spend next Christmas in North Carolina since the last two we spent in California. It was a very fair request and we both missed being apart of our church’s first Christmas and being home for Christmas. The tears that I bottled up came later in the privacy of my car ride home. I dont know what to do with those tears, other than maybe tell my family that I miss them more or remind them that I visited last and Carolina is gorgeous in the fall. God has richly given me this church family I can hold on tightly to durning the days when being away from my family is hard, and I am so thankful for that.

As I looked up at the very well dusted gold chandler in the church, seeing the reflection of the pews of people I wondered about funerals. I had only been to two others before today; one of my exboyfriend’s step mom (yeah just a tad awkward but we were still close at the time) and my grandpa this past January. I only had the pleasure of meeting the man who the filled church with people once this past summer. Sitting in this quant church, I wondered really what or whom funerals where for. The tone of this one, my favorite by far, was celebrating how Jesus had used my friend’s dad’s life. Why I sat there in was very different from the person sitting next to me (whom was quite fun to sit next to since she seemed to rate the different people who spoke). I was there in hopes of showing in a physical scene support to my friend who had a great loss. The stories that were shared makes me want to clear an afternoon to hear more about my friend’s dad’s life. Driving home through the country of North Carolina (I really know I’m a city girl when I made the comment of “Cows are big up close.”) I realized it had been too long since I chatted with my dad. To know more of his life, the small things that were important to him growing up or what made him pick my mom to be his bride. I wish I could of comforted my friend more than I feel that I did. My shoulder is for you to lean or cry on in the days to come. My prayers are yours in hope the comfort God can only brings touches your heart in that missing piece of your life He has taken to be with Him.

The past few days have been somewhat of a blur but very long at the same time. I started to not feel well on Monday but didn’t think too much about it because I don’t get sick that often. But knowing myself well enough I could tell I was fighting something. I even went to work because I just really cant bring myself to call in sick unless I’m really really sick. Yesterday though things seemed to take a turn for the worse instead of the better so I went to the doctor, which was a ordeal in and of itself. Apparently very few doctors in my area are accepting new patients. This ether means that there are too many sick people in Greensboro or there are not enough doctors to go around. Neither one of these comforts me at all. I went to the doctors, which I shall spare yall on the details but it was better experience than I expected. Like I said, but I’m thinking of stopping saying but I think it jinxes me somehow, I don’t get sick very often, so I don’t go to the doctors very often. Lets just say, I have had insurance with Starbucks for almost two years now and this is the very first time I have used it. It wasn’t till after a very long wait for the my door of my little room to open up again, I laid down and smelled that hospital smell that is the main reason I hate going to the doctors. The smell of being overly serialized is not a comforting smell to me, even though it probably should be. It makes me nervous and think things are worse than they actually are for some reason. Maybe because that smell reminds me of the handful of times I had surgery on my birthmark when I was little and that smell is associated with that. But this whole waiting in the little room thing, Id like to talk about that for a second. I saw three people yesterday, including the doctor. Three people who whisked in and out of that room every few minutes and a long period of time between each other to see me. Its one of the strangest things in the medical field I think. You sit (or in my case lie down, I was very tired) on this table with a thin sheet over it waiting for folks in scrubs to come in and talk to you, take your pulse (and tell you how small your arms are. I actually appreciated that comment because when your sick you don’t feel pretty at all. So that thought process to me, sitting there with bed head ponytail and no make up was “I’m not frumpy!”) or get your medical history. I saw the back of that door more often than I really wished to, and couple of times to protest the back of the door’s poster of “Please do not use your cell phone” I reached for my cell phone. I didn’t use it, but I was tempted to that’s all. At one point I took a magazine from the limited offering hanging on the wall next to said closed door. Of course when I’m trying to read People’s take about Brittany being a mom is when the nurse decided to come in. People magazine is still just one of those magazines you don’t want to be caught reading, but my options where very limited. I should of just taken the high road and stayed lied down on the table. All and all, first doctors visit in a long time, wasn’t half bad. Today I’m eating crackers okay and wanting to drink more. When your sick those are like the last two things in the world you want in your mouth. I actually didn’t want anything, drank way less that I should of but when you just cant bring yourself to do it and your only cheerleader is Biscoe giving you a cute look of support most of the day, then no drinking is gonna happen. A good nights sleep did me some good I think, but we’ll see how the day goes.

Little after 4 yesterday I was speaking to Eddie, who we all know as my main contact at Honda about my car. Reminding him I was told I would get it back Tuesday. He said the car would be ready by 5. That’s exciting news so I spring up, get my stuff out of the rental car and fill it up with gas. Return the car and get a little ride over to Honda. I get Gwen and start to pull out of the parking lot and call Jason with my wonderful news. He happens to be driving by on his way home from work. Not 5 minutes out of the parking lot, Gwen starts to shake. I tell Jason as I try but don’t remain calm getting to the parking lot he is waiting it. He sees the RPM (maybe?) are really low. We call Eddie who is mad too that my car isn’t in perfect working order and to let him know if it keeps haven’t issues. Well after Gwen stalling twice last night, we took her right back to Honda. Id really love all this car drama to stop. I have had enough to last me years and years and then some of yalls.

Update on the boxes, well, the post office guy wasn’t very helpful. So unhelpful that I still have the items that are not mine because he wouldn’t take them because I didn’t have the box they were shipped in. Nevermind he needed the address that was on the boxes and I could write those down for him, he needed the box. Beyond frustrated since I called the 1-800 to ask what I needed before driving down there and not being told I needed the box. My mom though, got a little light at the end of the tunnel. The USPS sent her pieces of a box asking for what believe was to be in them. This is yet another box that I’m missing items from (my shoes). wrote out a list of items, in which she is gonna turn in along with the claims report I have. At this point, I just want to leave the box of items that are not mine on the counter of not so helpful guy yesterday and walk away. What is he gonna do, really? So, all of that to say there is a step in the right direction with this, but still too much drama.

I just want to be settled. I want my car to help me do that, I want my things to make me feel at home and moved in. But those just don’t seem to be “in the cards” for me so to speak. Its hard not to doubt that this is where I should be. That these big stressful things are not sign that this is not right. But I’m not really doubting, frustrated but not doubting. I don’t understand why Jesus isn’t doing what I want (but don’t we always?) but I know He’s here. That hope those that not even days ago wanted, I really would love some of it now.

Blown headgasket is apparently what is wrong with Gwen. I’m glad they know whats wrong and gonna fix it. Not so glad that they’ve had my car two days now and I wont get her back till Monday or Tuesday. I asked for a rental car, but Eddie (my Honda contact here) cant get the okay to give me one till Monday morning. Goodie.

I’m in search of a tall bookshelves to put my many books that are still in boxes. Its one of the most unsettling feelings, living in boxes. Which doesn’t help bring the “this is home” feeling I’m wanting to come sooner than I should. But I know an organized room fully displayed with the comfort of familiar nick naks and friendly books would help. Hopefully tomorrow I can fine one and start making headway of getting boxes out of my life.

Had a little moment this afternoon. My mom called just to check in and see how things where going. I don’t know what I haven’t called my parents more but it made sense when I got off the phone. I miss them. A lot. I just stared out the car window as Jason and I drove down Wendover to try and control my sad thoughts. Jason asked what was wrong and I didn’t want to answer. But he just knew and asked “Do you miss your mom?” and I started crying. I didn’t realize how much I did till that moment but I do. I did my normal, “there are worst things going on, I shouldn’t be sad over this” routine. He only reassured me its okay to be sad over it and not to beat myself up over it.

I’ve gotten to hang out with some friends over the past couple of days. Kari and I spent the evening together braving the nasty storm we had last night. Apparently out here, a summer storm as they call it, which is 13 inches of rain that’s very heavy with hail, thunder and lighting is normal. Something else for me to get used to I guess. We had some great conversation over Barns and Noble, soup and Kari knitting. Then tonight Jace and I met up with an old friend of mine, Joe, from Newbury Park. I hadn’t seen the guy in like 5 years so it was great to catch up with him on his way home from the golf tour. Jason and him got to take turns picking on me all night over Mexican food and Buster’s ice cream. Delightful past couple of nights with friends that brought me comfort when I needed it.

Tomorrow I’m going to church at Grace to feel it out one more time. Hopefully start getting involved in the Jr High group and get to know those new 7th graders over the summer. I’m hoping to find a sense of community there, which I know I need and going to put myself out there sooner rather than later. Always scary though, meeting new people and going through the process of hoping they accept me for me. And growing older, trying not to close other people out due to past hurts in friendships, which I think is the bigger battle for me. My prayer is to really have open eyes and heart to what God has for me, as rocky as it has started, new season of my life.

Yesterday was very dark day here. No really, it was overcast and on the verge of raining at any moment (but it didn’t till the night). I think the weather messed with people because all my customers, even the regulars, where in a mood. I was no better, feeling like I never even woke up, despite the 8:30am wake up. When I got off work I called Jace, to take our not so nice conversation earlier that day, due to my mood. In going through trying to process why I was feeling this way with him, I started crying. Talking through what I way feeling my main thought was I am stressed, which I’ve been told is understandable. Fine, but the next question is what am I stressed about? My packing is pretty much done (really, all I have are important papers, bathroom stuff and clothes, rest is packed and index card) . My plans are nicely typed up with maps and confirmations in a according style file folder. I think my problem is I can not pin point how to help solve this feeling. Then I thought, I’m sad. I haven’t really let that feeling enter my mind because I don’t want to be sad. I want to be excited for my new life in North Carolina. But I guess that cant really happen till I deal with leaving here first. Seems pretty logical, which I like, but I don’t really want to deal with those sad feelings. With the weather still over cast and grey, maybe its some sort of a sign to start here before heading there.

When things are making me down I don’t want to record them. Putting things into writing gives them a little too much residency that I don’t want to give them. These past couple of weeks just been hard for a various of different reasons. I have written when I have been down before, but nothing I wish exploring on here. Which is just a long explanation why there has been a lack of updating here in a while. Not to say things have to get 100% better before I post again, I just cant seem to put things a side to write. I got to finish watching Narina this past week with the facts about CS Lewis turned on. CS Lewis’ writing is always an inspiration to use whatever creative gifts God has given you. So I hope to stop stuffing those soon and live life, whether a good or bad day with some form of creativeness given to His glory. Its been too long since I have done that.

Apparently the weather reads my blog. It rained today instead of being sunny, even though I did say Easter afternoon is when I was going to spend time in the sun with a book. Still was enjoying this lovely weather but of course it rained on my sunny parade (pun intended).

I wrote my last post to turn to my frustrations (there was a pile of them last night, some still remain) to something no so consequential (or something that cant flight back). I read my current book “Cooking with Mr. Latte” to cheer myself up a bit. My mom asked if Id cook Easter dinner since she has to work I don’t. I’d said I would. Discussing the menu last night turned into a very frustrating conversation that had me close to just not wanting to do it at all (Lovely attitude, I know). As silly as this is, the book helped take me to a better cooking place. Love the comfort that books can bring me; even in the smallest ways.

On my way to work this morning I put in Andrew Peterson’s news offering “Appendix A” (demos and remixes and live songs). It started off with one my favorite of his songs “Land of the Free” and when it gets to the part of the song where it goes “because I’m feeling pretty good in Tennessee” then it brakes off to clips of different recordings of Andy singing the different towns he had played that song live in. He said “becasue Im feeling pretty good in Tuscaloosa” and tears swelled up in my eyes. I’ve been missing what part of my heart calls home lately, more so the relationships I dearly miss. Just hearing the name had me on the edge of tears, bringing feelings forward I didn’t know I had. Then I went on to listen to “The Things About Airplanes” to which the line “I’m sitting next to this over dressed man but I only want to be sitting next to you” and I think about how I miss Jason. Then my thoughts carried to my dad had mention wanting to listen to this new cd (he’s Andrew Peterson’s newest biggest fan) and how he doesn’t get to take plane trips with his new job. His new job is different of course (whole sale vs retail) but it doesn’t seem to be liking it as much as any of us thought. And my mom had to get a part time job too because of the pay cut. I think of the changes my family has had to go through the past few months and how this are still adjusting. My mom probably would of been a bit more understanding with my suggestions of dinner items. Most of her arguments about not sticking to traditional dishes was the practicality of the costs and dishes. She’s more tired with a job on her feet all day, making it very different to come home to a well rested mom instead of the calm housewife. I’m in tears trying to pull myself together before I reach my parking lot having to head into work. But I’m thankful for the tears because I don’t know if I would known of my feelings without them. Lets just hope Andy doesn’t make me cry every time I listen to his cd or else I’m just gonna be a teary mess.

Last night was a mix of emotions for me at youth group. Some parts of the leadership group have made me grown weary of even being a part of the group at all over this past year. A long over due meeting was held and lots of ideas shared. I felt feeling accomplished of it all and prayed the thoughts that were put down on paper would be followed through. I saw a week come and go and nothing. But last night there was a step forward in helping the leadership grow to help one another to care for the kids with support, encouragement and accountability. I hope it continues or else I can see the ministry just getting torn and us leaders holding onto threads again.

The kids just piled on top of my heart last night with heartache after heartache they are going through. Just seemed to come all last night. Like finally, they these group of girls feel close enough to Hayley and I to share their struggles, their sadness, their real stuff. Not that hadn’t at all before, but it would be like pulling teeth to get them to talk about anything deeper than “Jesus bible God”. We wanted these girls to think for themselves instead of the “right” church answer. To support them in their questioning of the faith they find themselves believing and hating all at the same time. Why would God let their families get ripped apart? Questions like those they almost seemed to afraid to say outloud. But if your new hair cut wasn’t up to their standard, they had no problem letting you know. What I love about them, bluntly honest when it comes down to it.

The stories of their last week lives they were sharing made me sad and angry. Sad because I wish I could do more to help them feel like someone cares about them. Angry because so many of their parents seem to take little interest in their own kids. I don’t say that flippantly. I say that as a constant stream of downward I have seen these girls go through this past year. I don’t view their parents like I do because of the kids point of view. In fact, their personal struggles never mention their parents. To me, the lack of care given to these kids is right where I see a parents love and support to step in. I guess I’m tainted having grown up in a house with parents who love each other, love my brother and I no matter what. Not to say its an easy thing to raise kid (especially some of the kids in my youth group) but you have the kids, lets try to do best you can.

I’ve been having a constant theme ringing in my ears this past week of being selfless. Looking to others needs before your own. In church, in my relationship with Jason, with my family and the kids. So to me, the first gut reaction to hearing the pains of my girls stories was “Why are their parents so selfish?” I know a lot of these kids comes from broken homes and so their parents are going through a lot of stuff themselves they have to deal with. But that doesn’t mean they can toss aside the needs of their kids. I don’t know if I even have right to say any of this not being a mother myself. I cant being to understand what a parent goes through and I’m not claiming to. For a handful of my friends, lives right now is babies. They share this love they never understood before. So between my not so screwed up family and friends sharing deep love towards their children, I cant find the missing connection for my youth group girls.

I have tired to keep as upbeat as to celebrate my 24th during the whole month of January. Celebration was set a side during the hard week of my Grandpa’s passing. When my relatives asked what I was doing for my birthday it had been pushed in the back of my mind that it came to me as a surprise. Monday even, I was still celebrating with a shopping trip to the mall with my mom to cash in on a gift she promised me (but I had to pick it out). Mom went outside to call my dad wondering if she had found him the right skin to keep his iPod free of scratches. I paid for a cheap but cute sweater at GAP walking out hearing my mom say “It will work out. We can make the kids pay rent.” I was confused by this comment which usually only follows after my brother makes a mess in the kitchen and doesn’t clean it up. But then wait, why was my dad home in the middle of a work day if this was the case? I never expected for my mom to say “Your dad got laid off this morning.”

There is this picture in our family photo album of Kenny, no older than 3 or 4 in a long-johns shirt and batman underwear with his arm out stretched over our front door. He didn’t want dad to go to work, he wanted him to stay home from work. My dad has worked as long as I remember. Heck, he met my mom at a nursery they both worked at in their early 20s. He keeps long hours, going in around 7am and not getting home till 7pm. It was a constant battle between my parents, my dad coming home on time for dinner. It was just a norm for me growing up for dad to be home late or not at all for dinner. My birthday happen to fall on a conference his old company would send him on. Hated them for taking my dad away on my birthday, in my mind he worked hard enough with long hours. His way of showing love for his family is to work hard which includes long hours and short overnight trips. Providing for his family in the best way he knows how.

As I said before, January has been a busier month than planned. My thoughts and prayers seem to be tossed around like a flower in a field on a windy day. As many changes have happened lately, there is a peace in it all. My parents are handling this new season of their life really well. My mom loves having my dad home (she’s a quality time type of person) and they have been working on the “honey-do” list she usually saves for the weekends to work on together. Saw my Grandma for a little bit this past Sunday and she is handling things better than I expected her to. This weekend she will be having her first day alone since January 3rd, the night my Grandpa passed away. So as much as God is showing himself in the peace we have, I’m still scared the hard times are just around the corner. I don’t want to feel like that, but I am that girl with whom struggles with faith. I trust God to take care of all my family’s hearts but my faith feels weak at times.

This morning I randomly picked the chapter titled “Christmas” in Lauren Winner’s first book “Girl Mets God”. Holidays make me happy and I thought with her wit writing would feed me some truth while making me smile. The chapter actucally talks about her not going home for Christmas, her sister being mad at her for doing so, her recently broken up boyfriend spending thier planned trip to New England with his new girlfriend leaving Lauren feeling very alone. Her main reason for not going home was “I just cannot bear to spend this Christmas tense and overly polite and all the other complicated ways that families are.” (and dont we all understand her there. I actucally skipped church this morning becasue of that very reason.) She goes on to talk about putting up icon picture of Jesus all over her bed room wall. She talked to them, at times yelling at them “Do something, make me feel better!” Then she goes on to say to them:

“You are supposed to be enough,” I tell the icon. “That you came to Earth is supposed to be enough. Even if I never go to New England again, even if I never plan another trip with somebody, even if I never feel happy for one more mintue, that you came to Earth is supposed to be enough.” I glare at my icon.
“And,” I say after a mintue, “it is enough. It actucally is. If this is all I ever have, this glimmer of knowledge that you were born in a manager, that really will sustain me.”
“But”, I add, “I really hope it doesnt have to sustain me.” I really dont want it to be just me and the icons for all these Christmases forever.

Now, I know she is more dealing with being lonely there, but she actucally vented her hurts to God. I have a big hurt right now that I feel I havnt broughten before God enough. Reading that, I wondered maybe I should scream at God, but then again Im not made at Him. Im mad at myself for somehow screwing up so dang badly. I told Jason all of this and he asked me:

“What if God told you that you are not in fact screwing up?”

Me:”Then Id counter that with the question of “Then do something about it. Or at least show me how to do something about it. Becasue I feel like Im failing at this aftermath.”

Funny thing though, I knew I would. I knew the moment this all went down that Id fail in how to handle it. Im not suprised at where Im at, but yet I dont know how to deal with it. Or make the outcome better as my Dad keeps asking me to do. Sitting here trying to find the positive side of the hurt is very hard for me to do. I have to move one stone at a time and the first one seems rather heavy.

“So much for celebrating Jesus’ birthday. I am more like the child who spends Mother’s Day demanding to know why there is no Children’s Day, not understanding that Children’s Day is every other day of the year.”

On a lighter note, I am being very cross-culture this afternoon. For lunch I am baking some orange chicken (Chinses) while snacking on some chips and salsa (Mexican) waiting for the chicken to be ready. I think its a good meal to help prepare me for one more closing shift for my so needed day off, dont you?

I had a really rough day yesterday and still emotionally dealing with it today. To help cheer me up my mom just brought me some Pumpkin Peeps. Now, I know some of you think Im gross to even like normal peeps, but I think these are kinda off. Firstly, peeps should not be orange. Nor does it make scene that the same shape of a bunny is the shape of two pumpkins (more like jack-o-lanterns than pumpkins). But that’s kinda not stopping me from eating them this afternoon. My mom is sweet to help my emotional eating (I had a green tea frappucino yesterday too.)

Dear Thursday,

You suck.

End soon,
Alisa

I worked the early shift this morning straight through any morning church service I normally would attend. Work kept me busy, not really allowing today sink in. I knew it was coming, I saw the date creeping up on my calendar. I cant believe it was four years ago today. I’ve never been able to put into words what this day made me feel other than sad. Sad for so many reasons. We have a Sunday night service that’s geared towards twenty something’s like myself. I haven’t attended it in over a year, though I know a handful of friends who attend regularly. Still Sunday after Sunday I go with my parents to our 11:15 service. I guess I like having church in the morning, it feels like church to me. Usually on Sunday mornings I have to open, I skip church all together. Today was different, I didn’t want to be sitting at home in an empty house. I needed to be around people and to be in a place I knew would, for lack of a better term, cheer me up.

Some of my friends from Jr. High group were there sitting together, shocked to see me on a Sunday night (“What are you doing here? You are so out of place!”). Worship was wonderful, even if I didn’t know all but one song. Sitting with friends while listening to my pastor speak. I was scared a little bit going tonight. Its a service where I feel out of place at because its full of people from my life over the years at the church. A lot of which we’ve lost contact of one another. Not that I don’t like catching up with these folks, I’m just very bad at small talk. So trying to remember what we had in common to strike up a conversation is rather hard for me, especially when I’m out of sorts. But tonight I saw my old (first) room mate. Rumor had it she recently moved back to the area and it was wonderful to see her. We exchanged numbers with the promise of catching up over dinner at her new apartment. My old college pastor was there with a smile for me. I got a lot of hugs. It was just what I needed to settle my saddened state.

One of my hopes in going tonight was to see my friend who’s birthday is today to give her a present. Sadly she was not there and as I walked out to my car to go deliver her gift I saw two people chatting near a parked car. It reminded me of my parking lot romance. That came out wrong. But rarely does a guy and a girl stand out in the parking a lot, alone, rather inside the church talking if something else isn’t there. Placing my key into its lock of my car I realized how far I have really come. I’ve grown up from that girl who stood in the very same parking lot talking for hours. Or am I the same girl with just different fears? My pastor spoke about us as the Church that we belong to one another. I went to my church community to be encouraged, where as I found a piece of belonging. But a tiny piece was all I needed tonight.

I’ve started this blog entry over many of times. I don’t know how to start it. I don’t even know the words to say. But I’m a bit frustrated with this side of the country in all that’s happening down south. Maybe its because I have many friends down there who are largely effected by this. Maybe its because part of my heart is southern now. Whatever the case, I haven’t hear a word about this disaster outside of my house. Why do people out here not care? Its not that they may not care, there’s a lot of groups trying to send help. With every other thing like this, 9-11, Tsunami, London, it was talked about. Why isn’t this being disused? Last night at youth group my friend Noah prayed for the people down south and it was the first ounce of conversation said about it. I was comforted that it was in prayer. I don’t know what to do for my friends down there who are without power, high gas prices, or trees in their home. It makes me sad to see a place I called home and hold dear is being torn apart right now. Like I said, I don’t have the right words or even forming my thoughts well on this. Simply, I’m just sadden by it all.

Currently I have two pieces of my neighbor’s furinture living in my little room. Its a matching dresser/desk set that are quite nice, especially to be on loan. With my parents getting themselves a new dresser and me in not in real use of a desk much these days, its time for them to go. I will get my parents old dresser (which I’m excited about because its bigger than my current one) and a little end table/dresser to make up a mini desk for Marla (my laptop) to call home. It will free up some space in my 10×10 room which I’m looking forward to having. In order for all of this space and change to happen, I’ve had to clean out the desk full of stuff. After deciding to do this I found a few piles of photos I never dealt with when moving back. I just stuck them in a draw, now they need to find a permit home which leads to a bigger project I have put off for years.

A few weeks ago I embarked on a different project which was printing photos from my year in Alabama. When I lived there I was really poor, didn’t have the extra cash for a lot of photos (and did we ever take a lot). I never mind living (well maybe a handful of times but I don’t remember it affecting me greatly) poorly, but I am now paying (literally) big time to catch up in the ever going process that is my photo album collection. I have about finished the Carla and Alisa adventures (as was most of my pictures from my year in Alabama) and now storing them away. In storing them away, yet another project is brought to my attention, my older photo albums. I’ve caption my life on film since Jr High on my own and those albums needed to be reduced. I tired to stay in the mid set of 13 year old Alisa as I reorganized them into more practical photo albums. Old memories where stirred in me which were sweet. Lately I have been playing catch up with very long emails to an old friend in my home town. We haven’t talked in almost four years so there’s much to over. We reminisce some of the old times, and now I have found the photos to match the memories.

Some of the photos as I grow older in the photos are bitter sweet. Friendships that were not so long ago the world to me are gone now. I once was told I should remove old photos of my high school sweetheart to spare is now wife’s feelings. I understand the meaning behind it, but to remove those from my personal collection would be like removing a big chunk of my life. I’m not going to basically lie to all those who want to see my high school life through photos. We departed ways as friends, we hold no regrets towards one another even now. My kids some day will ask about my first boyfriend and I will be fine in sharing it with them. And I’m excited to have all of these memories physically avaiable to share with my future kids along with having them as a tool for myself. Looking at photos always makes me happy. Sometimes it makes me sad, but mostly happy. Bittersweet is the constant feeling as of late in my photo projects. Watching myself grow up along side the people who shaped me who I am now. Wondering where these people are today and what’s going on with them. This is been a long on me emotionally and time wise but I am hopeful for its end result.