Peace sells, but...

Is it a sin to long for the simplicities of youth? Grow up, Jessica. Be a real person in the real world. But why is the real world so full of confusion and complication? Why is everyone so selfish and single-minded? Why must we all disagree, argue, interfere, and destroy?

Expressing these thoughts to other human beings is pretty much impossible. I know you are all laughing. Silly, sheltered homeschooler. Grow up. THIS is reality. Peace is a dream; don't bother with the idea too much. As they say, peace sells but nobody's buyin'.

I like my box. Why do I even need to bother caring whether the government is out to get us or not? What does it matter to me? I suppose, to a degree, it is nice to be able to understand what is going on and, as Allison says, who to trust; maybe when is a good time to react to something that isn't right, or perhaps relocate someplace where I might live a more quiet and peaceful life with no outside interferences.

I really don't care what other people think of me, as long as they keep any negative thoughts to themselves. It's not as if I want to be childish and avoid the responsibilities of being an adult. I want to live, and work, and help people, and get married, and have children. I want a simple life, with little or no interference from outside parties. I only wish I could travel to and live in England for a year. But I can't. I have to have some "legitimate" "reason" which, I suppose, will prove if I am not a criminal or some such nonsense as that. Call me ignorant if you want to, but what sort of crime are they trying to avoid? And why aren't passports enough? If someone commits a crime in England, they should be tried in England, correct? Why does anybody have to be a citizen of anywhere? If you are somewhere, that is where you are, and if you aren't, then you are somewhere else.

But it's not that way. Government systems tese days prevent it. People are in power and want as much control as they can get. Laws are created, wars are started...whatever "needs" to be done.

If children ruled the world, think about how much better things would be. Those who committed wrong would be punished for it by being made to repay 100% to the person they had wronged, and that includes compensation for inconvenience and whatever else was caused by the original wrong. That is "an eye for an eye." You don't take out your wrong-doer's eye just to punish him for taking out yours. You remove the eye and use his eye as your own! Okay, that is a little absurd...as in, impossible. But you know what I mean. If someone kills somebody else, they themselves should not be killed; they should be indebted to the victim's family for life. The family can choose to hunt the murderer down and kill him, or they can make him into a personal slave, or whatever they want. Killing someone is hardly a punishment...that puts them out of their misery, end of story. Even a life in prison isn't the same, because the murderer does not compensate to the family for his wrong. Sure, a life can never be replaced or paid for. But if we're talking "eye for an eye" here, that was never meant to mean that if you kill somebody, you should likewise be killed. It's unreasonable.

I'm not saying that the world would be flawless if children ruled it, but it may be better off. Perhaps we would have equal rights for society and government alike. Kids have a good degree of common sense and of right and wrong that we really don't give them credit for. What we have now is a bunch of power-hungry fascist law school graduates who constantly theorize illogically and think they have all the answers. That doesn't make me very comfortable.

But!!! I just don't even care. I like my box. In it, there's me, my friends and family, others whom I must interact with, and the life I live. I pay taxes when necessary, and I drive on roads, drink clean water, appreciate the comfort of the fire station up the street, etc. I don't care whether this is operated by the government or a private organization, as long as whoever it is stays out of my business. It's okay to be informed, but I really don't even want to care. I am here on this earth with a deeper purpose than government. I am here for God. And if that isn't relevant to something, I shouldn't spend too much time worrying about that something.

I have my Truth, and it may not be your Truth, but it's mine. I wish it could be everyone's Truth, but it can only be your truth if you want it to be.

~Jessica

Could I Really be Afraid of Commitment?

Commitment....life....huh......what??  Oh, as in, the present?  Sorry, I forgot I was existing for a tiny bit.

Life has been a strange hullabaloo of nonsense flying past me at the speed of light lately, and I haven't quite gotten a grip of where I am again.  I guess this may be a pattern that might have been noticed by some people who notice things like that, but I don't know.  

First of all, I have gotten a Facebook.  Now you can all bring your palms up to your foreheads and smack accordingly, groaning, "Ooooooohhhhhhhhh, duh, that is your problem."  Yes, I have joined the ranks of the Facebookians who have had their brains sucked into the black hole of Facebook.  I am now of the opinion that Facebook is just another ploy of the High Elite to take over our minds and ultimately control us.  And I am completely serious about that.  

Much musing has mingled in my mind of late, involving just about everything under the sun, and at night the moon.  I am unfortunately cursed to be one of those people who always second-guesses themselves at every turn.  You probably figured that out too.  I guess I am not comfortable with making final decisions.  I make them, and then I go back on them.  I make new ones again, saying "This time I am really going to stick with this!!" and then something interferes with my brain frequencies and causes them to contort in some way or another, and then I fail before really even beginning.  

But you know what???  I am going to stick with something this time, no matter what.  

Of course, I will always be second-guessing myself; the idea might not always seem the most attractive, in fact it might look downright rotten at times; I will think of or come by something else more attractive and really want to switch over again; I will probably get jealous of what everyone else is doing and how much fun they are having and how successful they are being.  But you know what?  That is how life is.  That is how all commitments are.  That is how - and this is the biggie - marriage is.  Think of it!  Marriage isn't always in the fast-lane with romance happening all the time or anything crazy like that.  You have to choose, like Lizzie has said, to love this man, and love your children when you have them, most of the time.  Marriage isn't something you back out of just because you're unsure of it, it's going a little rough at the moment, another guy comes along whom you think you would rather be with, or someone else's marriage looks like it is going much smoother and you have no hope for your own...any number of things.  It is immature to think that way.  Sure, when you were a little kid, if you got tired of one toy you went and played with another.  Even if you had a favorite toy at home and you went to the store with your grandma or something and saw the latest something-or-other on the shelf and wanted it, she (being your grandma) would buy it for you and that would be your latest and greatest favorite till you got tired of it.  You may have returned to your old favorite, or gotten a new toy, but whatever it was, excessive toys teach nobody commitment. 

Great.  Now I won't let my kids play with toys either.  They are just going to hate me.  No television, no videogames, no toys...what's next?  Maybe I should lay off thinking about child neurology and psychology for a while.

I mean, I was that way, especially with books.  I'm still that way with books.  There are just too many good books to read and I read so slowly I just want to start them all at once.  Of course then I can't finish them any faster.  It's crazy.  I have some really bad habits.  Darn it.  

You know, I can look at commitment as existing with God or without God.  And there just seems to be so much more hope if I factor God into the picture!  Otherwise it is just little me trying to find my way in life all by myself, never knowing what is right, getting easily distracted, wondering excessively, among many other dreadful, anxious feelings.  But when I remember that God is there to lead me, I am just filled with "the peace that passes all understanding!"  I know that I can't go wrong by God.  The only way I can screw up is on my own accord.  I have PROOF that God will lead my way if I just put my head down and follow blindly.  Granted, I am sure everyone is some degree or another of sick and tired of hearing my story when I was 12 or so and got lost in the Henderson's woods.  But here it is again (leaving out the part about the coyote and how I got lost in the first place): I tried to find my way back several times, and finally I came to a road.  I didn't know what road it was, but I thought surely it would lead back to their house.  I walked forever in both directions and got nowhere.  BTW, the Hendersons live in the middle of nowhere on a huge piece of property, just for your general information.  Finally after who knows how long of hopeless deliberating with myself, and feeling like God was saying to go back in the woods and he would lead me home (but I didn't want to because of the coyote and if I just went back in the woods I would get lost all over again), I decided to listen to the voice in my head.  I literally put my head down and walked in some direction or another, not even bothering looking where I was going.  I walked in a straight line for probably 15 minutes, and then...lo and behold....the Henderson's cow pasture!!!!!  I climbed the fence, ran up the hill, climbed the other fence, and my dad was just coming out of the house and I burst into tears and really sentimental piano-and-strings music started to play and it was all happy................yeah.  

All of that to say that I know I can do it again with the rest of my life, as uncertain and hopeless as it seems.  God has blessed me so much in my life already with opportunities I could not have dreamed up if I was given a million years just to sit and ponder the possibilities.  In the words of the Gettys: "Don't let me lose my wonder!"  

Ah, I feel all better inside!  My brain has resurrected itself, I believe.  Now, on to productivity!!!

~Jessica         

Stupid Idiots!

Okay, it really isn't that bad. I guess. It really is just me, but I happen to not like to feel my self-esteem falling a little bit more each day of my life. Okay, you know those books, "The Complete Idiot's Guide to ______" and "_______ for Dummies"? Sometimes they are okay, if I actually have enough patience to get through them. I have read a couple of Idiot's Guide books on creative writing and actually found them rather helpful, much more so than Dummies books. Now, I have been trying to read "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Music Theory." As I was telling somebody, I read it and I feel like more than a complete idiot. So THANKS for the insult, Idiot's-Guide-book-making-people!!!! I mean, it's not their fault, obviously. It's all me. And, of course, "complete idiot" is only meant as a joke. So the reader can laugh at his or herself and say, "well, I am not a complete idiot on this subject, but I bet this has all the information I need right now!"

And maybe that is the catch. When it comes to music theory, I am a complete idiot. I know nothing. I don't know how I got this way, all I know is that as hard as I try to understand it, each time thinking, "okay, this is starting to make sense, I really have it this time..." and then WHAM! I don't get it all over again. Literature theory makes sense. I don't know why or how it does, but reading up on strategies and techniques for storytelling and writing style and then seeing how I can apply them to whatever I am writing while still maintaining a very high degree of creativity and originality.

Music theory (said mockingly and with detest), however, is NOT that way at all. Perhaps one thing is that I can't seem to get past time signature, but that seems minor compared to other things. Like melody construction. There are rules?!?!?! And you actually have to think about them when you compose?!?!??!?!??!?!? Things like (the following said mockingly and with detest also), "You have to pick a scale or mode for your melody to be in and stay in that scale or mode for the whole song," and "Your melody should have a tonal center it focuses around" and "You should end your melody on either the same note it began on, or the third or fifth of that note, but always make sure it sounds conclusive." Among other things that I can't remember, because I didn't want to, because I didn't want to think about them so much that they make me think too much about a song I am composing, therefore ruining any creativity I have. And I won't get to finish reading it now, because some other complete idiot put it on hold from the library and my friend's mom won't let me borrow his copy. *huffs loudly*

I just wonder.....do I have to think about all that? I mean, if it sounds good and flows well, it's fine, right? That is what I have always thought. I know hardly anything about scales or modes, and what I do know I can't remember anyways. And it's not like I am going to sit down at the piano and decide to write a song in a particular mode. It just comes out and there is nothing I can do about it, unless it is too boring, so then I have to jazz it up again. And what is it with music reading? (This is a rant, in case you can't tell.) It is so entirely complicated and I don't know how six-year-olds learn it! I guess it's like learning another language, except in that language they speak all in math language. Since when did anything creative involve math? (I am sure that question is going to be answered by all you smart comment-people who will say things like architecture and interior decorating, and, of course, music.) But, but, but.......how in the world am I going to compose something and do all that math to figure out whether a particular note is a 16th note or not? It would take all day. I would need a voice recorder, a metronome, a long piece of paper and maybe a math professor with me. And that would be for only one note. So for a six-minute composition, it would take me a whole year to write it down, give or take a couple of months (yes, it's an estimation). And then I have to marvel at all these people who can read music and play at the same time. W-O-W, you guys knock my socks off. If that isn't multi-tasking, then I don't know what is. I thought that all you had to do was feel the beat in your head, remember how it goes and let your fingers do the rest. No. You have to remember what key it is in, remember what time it is in, look at two different staffs, divide and multiply notes, usually very quickly, play with your left hand and your right hand parts that are usually very different, remember which note corresponds to each key, be able to actually tell which line the notes are on (maybe my eyesight is just bad, but all those lines gets kind of blurred together, like all the zeros you have to use in Chemistry), keep a beat, stay awake, know what general terms like crescendo and forte mean relative to the song you are playing, sometimes you have to sing, so you have to watch three staffs and move your mouth and hit the right notes, AND don't forget to turn the page!!! And if you know half the song, you can't get too caught up in playing the part that you accidentally memorized and then forgetting where you were on the page and having to go searching for it.

GOOD GRIEF!!! That is enough to give any sane and very healthy person a heart attack. *has one* *goes to the hospital* *gets lots of drugs* *feels better magically* *comes back* *continues blogging*

Now I am just not sure about taking piano lessons. I have really wanted to ever since I was little, and now here is my chance. I have gone back and forth and back and forth and back and forth......and I am just very apprehensive about taking them. There are certain things I want to learn. It's not like I don't think that I should learn music reading (and I am saying that because, again, all you smart comment-people are going to say "you really should learn music reading because you should."), that is just something I feel that I can try and focus on at home while what I really want to learn is how to play the piano better. What I mean is that, if I sign up for lessons, they are going to start me on music reading. They always do. It's like if you sign up with a doctor and go in for your checkup, it is a given they are probably going to find something wrong with you and put you on two or three medications (my I-hate-doctors rant is another post, thank you very much). I will not learn anything BUT music reading, because I will have to start with the most basic basics, like Mary Had a Little Lamb or Chopsticks, and I will advance in six years to anything it takes any skill to play. But I just want the piano skills, to know different playing styles so I can play by ear better and compose more interesting music.

If anyone who lives around me knows of any teachers that would focus more on style and VERY EXTERMELY little on music reading, I beseech you to inform me of said wonderful person at once!! In the mean time, I will piddle along in my little uneducated ways....Marck actually bought me a little book-and-CD Rom kit titled, "How to Read Music in 3 Easy Lessons." It doesn't have me quite convinced, but neither have I looked at it much since I got it. Sorry, Marck, I fully intend to, I just haven't. Since my "beloved" music theory book is now back at the library, I shall concentrate on my little kit.

Thus ends the flow of the Fountain of Frustration.

~Jessica

P. S. And don't criticize me about how my background looks like usic composition scratch paper. I like it for what it stands for, being a musician and all.

I Guess Sin Doesn't Matter Anymore...

If this post sounds confused or unstable...it is just purely from lack of organization since I am trying to see this from many different angles all at once....

Christians seem to have this idea that they are all under grace and that all the old laws do not apply anymore. Well, I have been doing some serious thinking, and I do not think that it is true. I mean, of course we are under grace. God gave us a precious gift by letting his son come down here and die for our sins. But just because someone died as a sacrifice does not mean that we can keep on sinning, does it? No…that is ridiculous. And anyways, why would we do that to somebody who just paid the ultimate sacrifice so that we would not have to pay it ourselves? That is selfish. The Bible says, “for by grace you have been saved through Christ Jesus.” It does not say, “for by grace you have been saved through Christ Jesus, so why don’t you go ahead and sin all you want since Jesus went through all that pain for you.”

I do not think there is essentially anything wrong with being carefree. After all, God says “do not worry about tomorrow for it will worry about itself.” He did NOT say, “do whatever the &#$@ you feel like doing today because tomorrow is a new day.” But, you might ask, why should we not sin? And why is it sin anyways? IT IS SIN BECAUSE GOD SAID SO. How can you call yourself a follower of God and then pick and choose the commandments that you feel are best suited to your lifestyle and obey only them? That is like saying, “I am a child of ME”, not “I am a child of God.”

Of course, I know that nobody is perfect. I am not perfect, and I would never go so far to say I am anywhere close unless I was fooling around. “For all have sinned and fallen short of the Glory of God,” but that is no excuse. God accepts that because he wants to accept everyone. That is why he made it possible to be saved merely through faith…because he knew it was impossible to be human and save yourself just by attempting to follow the law exactly. But you should not say, “Well, I guess we are all sinners…it is inevitable that I am going to sin anyways so I might as well not try to stop myself.”

Our reason for not sinning should not be for securing a place in Heaven, either. If we are all “justified freely by his grace”, then we are all going to Heaven, simple as that. However, as I said in a previous entry….don’t you think we owe it to God to obey his simple commandments? He has given us such a precious gift of grace and eternal life when we don’t deserve it. So why don’t we try the best we can to deserve it?

In the beginning, God gave man ONE SIMPLE RULE—DO NOT eat the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. (You know, that is a pretty cool name for a tree. Nowadays we just have “magnolia” or “pine” or “apple”….those are so boring.) Adam and Eve could not see why God did not want them to eat the fruit, so they did, and look where that got us today. (Okay, it is probably true that if Adam and Eve did not sin, someone would have eventually done something.) God has made lots of commandments that do not make sense. Like, why can’t you eat pork? People eat pork all the time and it doesn’t hurt them. WELL….maybe you should not eat pork because GOD SAYS SO. Don’t you remember when you were a child and your parents told you to or to not do something, and when you questioned them they gave that frustrating answer, “because I said so”? I always hated that, because I liked reasons. I do not like doing seemingly unreasonable things: “Why do we only get to go 35 mph on this road? It’s perfectly safe to go at least 50!” I still haven’t figured out why Sunset Lake Road is that way……it takes FOREVER to go anywhere when I have to use that road.

Now, what if you still feel like you are under grace and that eating pork is not a problem? Well, that is your personal interpretation and conviction to believe that God has saved you thus, and that is fine. Still, wouldn’t it be better to be on the safe side? God may have even said, “It is okay to eat pork now,” but maybe he is also fine if you feel like you should stay with his original commandment. It obviously won’t hurt. And I am not saying anybody has to do this…this is just a personal conviction of mine that I have felt I need to adhere to. Why do we even have the Old Testament if it suddenly does not apply anymore?

Anyways, I have never read the entire Bible all the way through, so I have started doing that now. I may be wrong about some things. There is a certainty that you shall see more theological musings from me in the future. I am also willing to be corrected by someone who has read a part of the Bible that I have not. I just want to get it right, and I am very excited about all this!

I will talk to you all later,
~Jessica

Relief...

"Don't try to do anything about this. Don't try to make anything happen. Surrender all of your confusion to me and rest assured I will bring you peace. Can't you see I am God? Nothing is impossible with me or in me. It is only when you attempt to do things without me that those things become impossible."

But I'm not trying to do it without you! I want what you want in my life!

"You do not realize it, but you are trying to do it without me. You are worrying too much about who I've chosen for you and how your romantic life is going to happen. In doing that you contradict yourself because you always end up trying to solve the questions and uncertainties yourself now, and you aren't letting me take over and work my wonders on my time......"

YOUR time?? You have all of eternity, and I only have 100 years!

"Don't you think I've carefully thought out your 100 years on earth? Besides, it is not about how your earthly life will turn our...it is how your life will turn out for all the rest of your eternity."

*grumble* I know....

"Now, surrender it all. Be completely honest with me and yourself. When has giving it all to me hurt you before? Something as simple as getting lost in the woods....you tried to find your own way back and you couldn't. But once you put your face down, didn't strain to look ahead and let me lead you home, you got there quickly. Why can't you have that faith in all areas of your life?"

The Dream

The Dream…
A Poem by Jessica Claire Barker

A dangerous dive into harmony so faint
Strong whispers plummet hoarsely into oblivion
The mystery of a still-lying, melancholy ocean
Where an empty echo hardly resounds

The apathetic sky allows itself to be alive
An old fence caringly stands
A new gate daringly grants you entrance
Where an abridged river longs for freedom

The shrouded symphony feels regret
As the water stirs meaninglessly
To fully abandon the attractive novel
See the audacious dawn weakly abate

The cricket’s music sadly abbreviated
See the hidden source of the borne chaos
Searching for your crying eyes in a photograph
At last, the colorful flame aborts…

It was the Best of Times, it was the Worst of Times...

I had a bad day sandwiched by two really good days, so I guess it got a little outweighed, don't you think? Yes, I am actually going to write about a few days in my life now, rather than just my thoughts on life. Enjoy, as this doesn't happen often. You know why? Because it takes forever to write everything down. So, since I'm supposed to be sleepy and going to bed and nice things like that, I'll try and condense it as much as possible...

WEDNESDAY: I woke up, fell out of bed, and dragged a comb across my head....okay, no. Paul McCartney did THAT. I woke up, stumbled out of bed, hit the alarm, and stumbled back into bed. I do that so often now that I don't even notice. I do it in my sleep. I don't even remember doing it. I just know I did because my alarm was set for six and I woke up at nine. Not that it bothered me. I ate my breakfast, forgot to drink coffee again, and probably...I don't remember what I did next. I think my mom took the boys to get hair cuts, and I sorted laundry or something. When they got back, we all ate lunch (about two hours after breakfast for me...but that's not as strange as last Saturday when I woke up at 11:30, ate cereal, and immediately after ate cream of broccoli soup). Then we drove to the Y's to pick Hannah and Noah up for swim/water polo. After everyone went inside, I drove to my friend's house thinking I was just picking up him for water polo, but then I ended up taking his brother and sister as well. And we kind of left about 15 minutes later than we meant to, so nobody got to swim beforehand. Water polo went well...Lizzie and I were on the same team, and Alex S. and Kara were on another... :( Someday we'll all be on the same team again.

Okay, now here's the good part (I mean, it seemed good). One of my friends wanted to go to the NC State water polo clinic/scrimmage thing that night at TAC. Nathan and Matt couldn't go because they had obligations to be all "Radical"-ish and stuff, Noah had some other Bible study/prayer meeting HIS parents were doing, and I had Sociology (*sighs out of utter and complete boredom*). I asked my parents if I could just go for the first 45 minutes of Sociology in order to get my name on the roll and have some class time, and then leave for water polo, but they said I couldn't (that made me mad). But...it was all going to be okay!! I went to class, and there was a note on the door...there was not going to be any class that night!!!!!! I was very excited. It was if I was just destined to go to the water polo thing.

So, I went, and for a while my friend and I just stood around wondering if anyone else was going to get there. I knew that it usually takes a little while for the whole gang to get over there and to start doing anything, but it was 15 minutes later than the starting time, nothing was set up and nobody was there. Finally, I mustered up the nerve (having my friend along helped) to ask some tall guy standing around wearing a red warm-up suit and carrying a red backpack if he was there for the water polo thing, and if he was confused too. He said he was there for water polo, but that he wasn't confused, only disappointed. But, to our luck, four more people actually showed up!! We didn't get to scrimmage...we only worked on shots and some offense/defense stuff, but my friend got a lot of one-on-one advice from that guy that's there who always gives you water polo tips. I think his name is Bobby or something like that. After water polo, I drove my friend home, went home myself, and may have gone to bed some time, but I don't remember. But when I woke up it was...

THURSDAY: I woke up at 7:30, one hour before I was supposed to leave to get a hair cut. I didn't want to take a shower, because I knew that I would get my hair shampooed at the salon, but because I had been swimming a lot, I had not had an official shower since Tuesday morning, so I thought it was a good idea if I just took one anyways. So I did. Then I drove to the hair salon-place, and from there on it was down hill. I asked her to re-give me layers, long bangs, and to cut my dead ends off while still retaining most of the length on my hair. Now, normally this particular hairstylist is the only person I trust with my hair, because she has curly hair too. But either she was having an off-day or my off-day just cursed me with other people behaving off-ish, but now I have not-as-long-as-I-meant bangs, I really needed one extra, shorter layer in my hair, and I don't think it's any bit longer than it was last December when I got it cut. I mean, I understand that I had a lot of very long, ugly dead ends, probably two inches of them. So if, in the course of a little under a year, my hair grew 2 1/2 inches, then she cut the 2 inches of dead ends off, I am left with only a half inch of actual growth on my hair. And if it grows another fourth of an inch by December (if I'm lucky), then all my hair would have grown this year is 3/4 of an inch!! I know that seems a little petty, but I really like long hair, and I really, REALLY regret cutting it chin-length in 2006. before then it was down to the small of my back, and I didn't even appreciate it. ANYWAYS, I was a little frustrated over that.

But now I can't remember what my darned problem was, but I was an emotional mess all the rest of that day. I won't go into the dirty, gritty details, but it seemed like everything bothered me. All I wanted to do was either yell and scream, or go play something very angry-sounding on the piano in the hardest, fastest way I could play whatever it happened to be. Although now I do recall putting on my Braveheart CD and attempting to be serene for a moment. But then I felt the inspiration to play Camille Saint-Sans' Cello Concerto (I think that's what it's called, but I don't know...) on the piano, which has a lot more notes in it than I noticed, and I had happened to put that on a CD with the Scheherazade (spelling suggestions, anyone? I think it's right, but what doth I knoweth?) on it, which I had been picking out on the piano for a while, but when I put that on and tried to play along with it, I realized I had been playing it flat, all this time! And while I normally wouldn't care, it just made me more mad. So I gave up on trying to play the piano, because after a while I just couldn't play it hard enough. Then, I knew what I wanted...I wanted to swim, and swim as hard as I could, forever! But then I thought that I should probably get the dishes and laundry done. This was in the evening, and my parents had gone out on a date, and I needed to get stuff done. But by the time I did, and got my stuff ready for swimming, I checked the clock...it was 7:53, and TAC was going to close at nine. Of course, that threw me into a fit of rage, because there wasn't anything else I could do with my pent-up energy. I was basically miserable the rest of the night. I just went to bed after a while...

FRIDAY: Um...I woke up at nine again. Maybe nine is my magic number. Anyways, I ate breakfast, took a shower, and tried to take Kara's advice on straightening my hair by blow-drying it straight first and then using the straightener, perhaps using some gel to help along the way. Note to self - never take hair care advice from Kara. She was just born with perfect hair that looks good no matter what she does with it, and if she does nothing, it looks even better. It looks the best of all when she takes a shower at night and goes to bed with wet hair, because she wakes up and it's straighter than her normal princess-like wave. I am NOT lying or exaggerating, ask anyone (the Mattrix [her brother], Lizzie, or Sarah [mutual friends], for example). And of course, like anyone, she assumes that everyone's hair is just like hers. But my hair is the kind of hair that most humans have, and it has tighter curls and more frizz. In all my 18 years I still have no idea what to do with it, probably because I've never met someone with hair just like mine (and for the first 11 years I didn't really care about my hair [and none of you will be seeing pictures of me during that period]). I can brush it only when it's wet, and then I must leave it alone. Even after the hairstylist straightened it, I can't brush it. So I think that it's not the curls that cause the frizz, it's just the texture of my hair. And that's very depressing. I always have wished I had the beautiful black, straight, silky, and shiny hair like Asian people have. I don't think it would look right on me, but I love it. Maybe I'll marry the Japanese sushi-making guy at the sushi bar that I went to and then all my daughters...

Oh, that's right. So I tried to do my hair, and in the end it looked like my hair, only the curls were a little more wavy, and it was significantly more poofy, neither of which I was really going for at all. I was doing all this, because my mom was taking me to a nearby sushi bar for a belated birthday present. I really wasn't eyeing the sushi-making guy, I just thought he was good-looking and tall, and that his sushi was very yummy. I had never had raw fish sushi before, because mom said I can only have it when it's fresh. So I tried it today, and I didn't like it very much, because raw fish tastes just like when you're at the beach, and a wave rolls over you and you get a mouthful of salt water. Yeah. Nothing exceptional in taste, and it's very slimy, but that was the fun part. :D The cooked sushi was delicious, though, and I ate way too much. Fortunately they also had some Miso soup that I could have to balance it out. But just talking about it is making me thirsty...*takes a water break*

Okay. After we got back, my dad called to give us some details about my great-aunt Mot, who was at the rehab center and apparently passed out some how, and was rushed to the hospital, where my dad and my grandma had been for the past little while. I answered the phone next to the couch, and after my mom and I talked to him, I forgot to get back up, and I fell asleep for about 40 minutes. In case you're wondering how that happened, my mom's mom took my brothers up to Creedmoor on Thursday and they are staying through Saturday, and I guess my mom was so caught up in all her cleaning she's finally getting to do that she forgot to wake me up. But I woke up myself anyways, and cleaned my chinchilla cage before a change of plans occurred. My dad needed me to go with him over to my great-aunt's apartment and get my grandma's car, and drive that and my dad's car to the hospital so that my grandma could go home when she needed to. During that trip, my dad tried to convince me to come to the Cary High School Homecoming football game with him, but I declined (nicely, of course). I didn't really want to get all caught up in all that public school mumbo-jumbo going on there, and please--if you are or were public schooled, don't take that the wrong way. I just know I would feel really really extremely out of place at something like that, and even if I knew people there, they probably wouldn't be close friends and would all just hang in their own groups anyways. It would be like going to church at Colonial Baptist, but seven thousand times worse. I really didn't want to go.

So after not going, I was home again and did some more chores before finally setting off to conquer my inner raging demons or whatever (unreleased toxins are more likely). I went to TAC and swam. I knew I needed to just swim mindlessly and think over all my issues of time wasting and what to do about making money and accomplishing goals and other problems I just swallow and forget about but that keep coming up, no matter how much I continually force them down...yeah, I think Thursday was like a "Problem Vomit" day or something. But anyways, I started out in the warm water pool, thinking I would swim mindlessly, but then I kept counting my laps, and by the time I got to 450 (yards, not laps, for all you non-swimmer people), I decided it would be a 500 yard warm-up, and then I would move onto something else. Well, when I stopped, I realized how warm I already was, so I moved to the cold-water pool (okay, it's really just called the "competition pool", but it sure is cold). I meant to swim mindlessly again, but this time I started doing a 200 IM, and while that's slightly mindless, I have to concentrate on actually surviving and things like that. I mean, it's usually pretty effortless, but I think I am still really out of shape. I haven't done any real work out for about two weeks, and then I just swim with masters, and they mostly just do freestyle. I made myself do a 100 butterfly, and it was very hard. This is just wonderful. On average in a Masters practice, I'll do maybe a 100 butterfly all total, and that's on an interval of some sort for 25s or 50s. When you're me, that's pathetic. Butterfly is supposed to be my best and most favorite stroke, and now I'm beginning to favor breast stroke, and that's just not right (again, if you're me). I've hated breast stroke ever since I started swimming on a team, which really was only about 3 years ago, but still...wasn't fun. Recently, though, I've developed the theory that I have been doing the stroke in a non-efficient way, and now that I've changed that, I don't have to put as much effort into it, but I have no idea if it's really faster because I hardly get to practice it or race Kara or anything...

I think my problem is that I really miss the Seahawks and I want to go back very extremely bad. Well, we're just going to have to do something about that...but I don't know when. :(

~Jessica

P.S. I really did mean this to be short, but how can I cover 3 days in a short entry? So if it takes you 3 days to read this, it's understandable. ;)

"Jack of All Trades" - A Complimentary Term for ADD

I feel like I need to rethink everything. You know, I've probably said a thousand times before that I thought I would have everything figured out by the time I turned eighteen. My life would all be in place, I will have decided what to do, I would be doing it, I would be successful doing that something that I was supposed to be doing….etc, etc, etc. And it's very annoying how I am not like that at all. Basically, if you think about it (not too hard, of course), I am a loser. I am unaccomplished because I…well, haven't accomplished much. I know I can. I know it's possible and I have the potential. But there's something…well, a lot of things that I perceive as holding me back. The thing is, I don't think I realize it. I'm still a little kid. It feels funny to say, but I really admire my friend because in a lot of ways he's older than me. Sure, he's almost a year and a half younger than me, but that doesn't seem to make much of a difference. Maturity-wise, most of the things about him are just older. And it's not fair. I look at him and say, "wow, he'd be much better at being eighteen than I am, and I'd be better at being 16." Did I mention it's not fair? I should be being confused about life at 16, and then in a year and a half I will have been sufficiently confused for a long enough time to conclude what I want to do and do it. INSTEAD, I was confused when I was 16 but apparently had not been confused long enough, because before then I didn't even realize that eventually I would have to grow up and pick something to do, and that it just didn't come by existing in my little world.

Don't get me wrong. I have a variety of interests and talents. I used to wonder, and now I've remembered that I wondered it and thus wonder it all over again, whether it was better to be extremely great at one or two things, or moderately good at many, many different things. And that doesn't even mean that I'm good at everything I do. What stumps me is that I expect to be able to do everything and then I run across something I cannot do (which happens a lot), as much as I want to, and then I feel like a failure at everything and have an urge to crawl into a little hole despite the possibility of feeling extremely claustrophobic.

So my friend says I'm a "Jane of all trades, particularly artistic ones." Well, after that compliment, I didn't know what to say. But before that I had told him about how I admire how he sticks to stuff. He has two main interests: Law and music, mainly piano. He swims and plays water polo some, and works so he can have money to pursue his interests. But he's very concentrated (no, not like orange juice, in case you were wondering). I am very jealous. I guess if I ever went to public school I would have been labeled ADD…I'm glad I never was in school, and I'm glad I never got a label like that. But I just have a terrible time sticking to anything. Thus, the whole "loser" label I keep giving myself. It's awful, I know. I don't really have such a low self-esteem. I guess this is actually just between me and myself, and how I just feel back being around myself. But now it's like I feel it's leaking out into public because now all my friends are concentrated and working on their life goals and stuff, and I still don't know what I want.

So I'm going to take that time to do some examination of me. I know, that's sounds so narcissistic, but I really need to do this. I hate thinking under pressure, but here we go anyways.
What do I really feel like I want in life? I want to be a wife and a mother. "That's the first time I've heard someone say that," Ken laughed on Tuesday at Wake Tech. I guess he was just surprised, not mocking me. But still, it was the first time I kind of felt funny for saying that. Still, what are the chances I will actually get married? I hate to think about that. Let's not. On to what I was doing.

What else do I want? Well, let's first think about what I don't want. I don't want to go to college. I don't particularly want to get a job. I don't want to go through life with no money and no life. I don't want to be labeled a "loser" by society and not just myself. I want to make a good name for homeschoolers. Now for what I want. I want to seem important to myself. I want to be amazing. This all sounds funny right now, but I need to be honest. I want to be happy. I want everyone around me to be happy. I don't want anyone to feel insignificant because of me…which there doesn't seem to be that risk right now…anyways. I want success in whatever I do.

Okay, now for what I really WANT to do. Not what I want, but what I want to DO.

I want to work with animals. I want to write books. I want to travel around the world, either by myself or with people I love. I want to play piano amazingly well. I want to write beautiful music. I want to play as many instruments as possible. I want to go sailing, like, real sailing in the ocean. I want to be in love and get married. I want to have children. Lots of them. I want money so I can do all the things I want to do. I want to keep swimming and playing water polo. I don't really want to accomplish anything with them, but they are a fun hobby and they also keep me in shape. I don't want to get fat, or even just go back to being skinny. I like the body I have and want to keep it. I don't want my kids to be fat or skinny. I want them to be healthy and athletic. I don't ever want to lose my creative inspiration. I want to be with my friends and family forever, and I don't ever want to lose any of them in any way. I don't want to go over into the "dark side" again. I want to be a good kid, even if I am an adult now. I want to be a good and creative cook. I want to have an enthusiasm for cleaning and doing other mundane household chores. I want to study history…real history. I want to read classic literature and learn from the best. I want to love God with all my heart, soul, and mind, and study his word. I want insight from my elders so I don't go screwing up my life again. I would like to do acting. I want to start a band.

So what do I concentrate on? Let's say I need four main things - Money, fitness, and two main profitable interests. Working for daddy covers the money thing right now, which includes studying the Product Launch Sequence. Fitness means swimming in the mornings and water polo in the afternoons. Now I have to pick two main interests and stick with them. *thinking….thinking…thinking…* I think…well, I thought…and now I believe…music and creative writing should be my main concentrations once this semester is over. Once I get out of these darned time-wasting classes. They're interesting, but not worth my time. That's the problem. There are too many things in life like that, and what's worse is that our society is so given over to those sorts of things that nobody really knows to do anything better.

One thing I noticed was that I said nothing about improv goals. Do I not have any? Have I lost my passion and fire for it? I think it's diminishing. That makes me cry. I don't want to leave, and it is only once a week, and then the shows one weekend a month. But I seriously need to reconsider what I want. I have been intensely interested in writing and music since I was little. They are things I KNOW I can stick to, and not just fleeting fancies that seem glamorous. I love to do them. Sure, sometimes I get in a rut, but that's only for a bit.

Okay, here is the verdict. If I take any classes next semester, they will be Creative Writing 1 and Elements of Music. I may also get a piano teacher. I'll read lots of books about writing, and also read literature. I will not deceive myself in my motivation. This is what I'm doing. I will also help around the house because I know it will benefit mom and myself because one day I will be a mother, I'm almost sure of it. I will work for daddy and help him with his product stuff. I will swim and play polo. I may eventually marry.

That's another thing. I feel ready for marriage, but I'm really not. I'm nowhere near it. I want it so bad right now. I've concluded that since none of the guys my age are ready, I should just hope for an older guy.......but then, that's kind of not really a good idea. I'm just as ready as the guys my age. I can see it coming in the next five years or so, and if I look I can basically see what I need to be doing to get there. To be ready. I know my girl friends can relate....I just ache to get married right now. I don't know if guys can relate to this at all.....but it's a very hard struggle right now. Granted, all struggles are hard. Duh. But this one is just the worst. It's so hard to do normal, everyday things now, because it comes to mind so much:

Driving through a neighborhood: "Oh, wouldn't this be a great neighborhood to bring kids up in...so peaceful and out of the city...so many trees...the houses are a nice size, and I could buy sofas!!!"

Walking through Target: "Aren't those decorations so cool! Imagine my dining room with that clock and my bedroom with that lamp!"

Still walking through Target: "Awww...cribs! Nighties! Diapers! Booties! Little bouncers! Pacifiers!"

Anywhere: "Look at that family, aren't they so cute? *gasp* A baby...oh, I want one!"

Anytime I see a couple I feel jealous because I'm walking through the parking lot alone. I certainly do NOT get to go shopping for ANYTHING with my husband, and that is very aggravating somehow. There's a girl on the Masters team who is getting married in December or something. I just overheard her telling another girl...but the way she was talking about it was just really casual and for some reason that got me down. Marriage, to me, isn't just a casual matter. I suppose that when you already live together anyways, there's no reason to really be excited. I meant the "I suppose" sarcastically. I just think that at that point marriage is almost pointless. You're already sharing your lives and sharing your bodies. Well, I'm going off in the other direction of what I was trying to say, which I can't really remember anyways because it's a bit late...AND I am trying to have a caffiene crash so I can go to bed, because I have to get up in the morning and go listen to the girls in the locker room at Masters talk some more before I go see the Dead Sea scrolls with...um...a lot of people. I'm excited :D I've been wanting to see them a while, and I don't want them to just go away like that anatomy exhibit did. That was sad :(

That same girl (I think) said that when she was little she once saw some guy swim the English channel all butterfly. That's really extremely cool. However, as much as I adore butterfly, I don't think I should set my sights on doing the same...heh heh.....

Unconscious Whispers

Whispers become explosives
In the depths of my mind
My spirit cries out to know
What is really inside
If you asked me now what I didn’t long for
I couldn’t tell you, I’m really not sure
Echoes of silence fill me with apathy
The joy of the shadow of a fallen tree
A silver lining turned white
The moonlight has faded to black
When the deepest desires attack
They cry out
I cry out to what’s not there
They find out
I find out that I am nowhere…

~JCB

A Tale of a Tuesday Morning

YES...I know it's Thursday now. And this will have to actually be short because somehow in the process of playing the guitar I sprained my left pinky finger, and it hurts exceedingly terrible. Okay, that was a bad attempt at being descriptive. Nonetheless, if any q's, a's, or z's are missing from my narrative, you know why.

So Tuesday morning, I was rendered Groggy Beyond Repair. After I had driven out of the driveway only to be almost run over by a car speeding up the hill and around the curve (we don't really have an ideal location for our driveway), I made up my mind that in order to prevent any more accidents, I must get some coffee. Sure, I had already had one cup, but that was 3 1/2 hours before I had gotten in the car! So I was off to Starbucks.

I walked in quickly, wanting to get out of the humidity as soon as possible. You must understand, humidity does abhorable things to my hair. I will not go into detail...you'll see for yourself sooner or later. So I shuffled over to the cash register, and a blonde woman with freckles and plastic-rimmed glasses said to me "Hiiii-ya, what can I get you this morning?!?!?!" in a very valley-girl sort of accent, in a very hyper fashion. It seemed innocent enough...typical Starbuckian behavior.

I said, "I'll take a grande caramel latte with whip and drizzle."
Before I could get past the grande caramel latte part, however, she said, "Grande caramel latteeeeeee, good choice!!!"

So I tried to repeat myself, "With whip and drizzle, please..."

Before I could get past saying "whip" again, she exclaimed, "With whip, oh, awesome!! Would you like drizzle on that too at no extra charge?"

"Yes," I muttered, attempting to act pleasant.

"Alright, that will be *insert actual price that I cannot remember here*."

So, I had two giftcards that looked exactly the same. I thought that I had marked one with a "B" because it was from Barb, and left the one from Elayna without any markings on it, so I could remember which one had more money on it. Alas, all I could find was one blank and one with a number "2" on the front. Being really really really sleepy as stated before, I concluded that the one from Barb was the one with nothing written on it, even though I had gotten the one from her second, so naturally I would have written number "2" on it.

I gave the lady the blank card, and she scanned it, looked at the screen for a second, and then started rambling on about something. I'm sure I looked at her quite confusedly, and perhaps I was the one in the wrong because I was not fully awake. But she kept saying, "You owe, like, two dollars and eighty-seven cents on your card."

I blinked cluelessly.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" She asked, still in valley girl mode.

"Uh...no," I confessed.

"I scanned your card, and now you, like, owe, like, two dollars and eighty-seven cents on it," she repeated, handing the card back to me.

"Oh..." I nodded. And then, being sleepy, as usual, I just handed her the $50 bill I had in my wallet, instead of reaching in for the other Starbucks card. Somehow in that moment I had also acquired the notion that Barb had given me a card with only $1 on it, instead of the actual $15.

Because of the fifty, it took her a long time to make change. In that lengthy moment, I finally put two and two together and realized I had used the wrong card. She gave me my change and said that momentarily my drink would b up.

I threw the old card away and waited what seemed like an eternity for my drink, which the Valley Girl Coffee Lady also made, while talking to all her co-workers about who-knows-what, in that same accent. The only good thing about it was that she wasn't paying her entire attention to what she was doing, and gave me a LOT of whipped cream.

That was my only consolation.

I sped out of the shop with my drink, drove around the shopping center a couple times searching for an exit facing in the direction I wanted to go, and finally sped on out of there to school. To calm my rage (rather, a constant rolling of my eyes--so I'm not sure how I got there in one piece), I was able to find a parking spot fairly quickly that WASN'T in Alaska.

This morning I went to the same shopping center, but instead of the main Starbucks, I went to the one inside Harris Teeter. What wonderful reasonable people work there!! Well, the barista didn't give me SO much whipped cream...but to actually deal with a sane race made that a minor setback.

And I found an even closer parking space this morning... :D

Oh, Marilla...!

What is on my mind...? It has to do with lonely and broken hearts and a deep feeling of dread which is even worse, and possibly the worse most sickening feeling on planet earth. So dread is more of the sort of thing where you're expecting something bad to happen. But it's all dread, really. That deep, sick, nauseous feeling churning about in your stomach when you discover, to your shock, that the person you had fallen for and gotten somewhat attached to and most likely had somehow been led to believe you seriously had a chance with was not just liking somebody else besides you (not as bad; that's not official), but actually going out with that person, in a serious relationship, and the person you fell for didn't even bother to tell you that small detail to prevent your fragile heart from shattering into a million pieces all over the street, some of it being ground into the pavement by cars zooming by, some falling down the drain into the rotten sewer, some of it kicked by pedestrians into the nearby grill where it is seared to perfection in the kitchen, and some of it just laying at your feet, unmoving, but hoping, praying you will pick up its remains and give it a reason to beat again. Sorry for that crazy analogy and very long sentence…heh heh.

I believe I have a very realistic fear of this happening again. It probably will. All I know is God WILL pick up all the remains of my heart, put them back together and give my heart a reason to beat again. But sometimes I have a very slow recovery rate. Maybe I'll just become immune to it. Like, I've been hit in the head with water polo balls, baseballs, basket balls, lamps, and canned food so many times, pain doesn't even pulsate through my brain anymore. So I will just have my heart broken so many times it won't hurt. I'll have a calloused heart.

But if I do, I don't believe I will be capable of loving either, and that would be very bad indeed.
I've underestimated…is that the right word?…underestimated guys before. I've thought surely they were not the "dating type", that maybe they did it the way our family does it. That in a year or two (but these things have happened a year or two ago), he would be then hanging out with me and my family a lot, and then would ask my dad if he could…you know, court me until marriage. He'd be like an older brother to me and my siblings, a friend to my dad and a chivalrous, sweet older son to my mom. In India both families are so involved in the relationship, in the wedding, everything. They even consider marriage a union of two families, not just a union of a man and a woman alone. Well, of course, they set it up. Marriages are arranged there, we all know that. But I think that's a wonderful notion, because from the very beginning, everyone is on the same exact page. I like that. Here in America, kids just want to do what they want to do, and there's conflict between the in-laws, and the kids move away and never see their parents…it's all about being independent here. But I love my family, I want to love my husband's family, and I want him to feel the same way. Now I sound all hippie-ish…"where's the love, man?" But seriously…

So I decided I am going to move to India with my family…okay, not really. Christians are kind of scarce there.

So I assume that these "potential boyfriend/fiance/husband" guys who I meet are like that (what, because they are homeschooled and/or Christians?), and I envision these things happening, and get to know the guy and he's nice. But then I find out one of two things: Either--he's interested, but only in me. Wants to spend time with me…alone. Wants to avoid my family as much as possible. Backs out on going to the movies, just because my mom or brother wants to come along. Eventually gives up and moves on with life without telling me. That's one scenario. The other is that as our friendship grows, it all starts to seem real promising…until I find out I didn't know him at all, and get the word from somebody else that he has a girlfriend, has had a girlfriend for a month or so, and maybe even has had multiple steamy relationships with other girls in the past.

The worst of all, though, is when I was originally right about the guy. He was like me. He was going to be that kind of person who came over to my house for dinner, talked with my dad about real estate and sudoku, helped my mom and me clean up the kitchen afterwards, and played a board game with my brothers and me into the night till he really needed to be going home, and I would go over to his house (on a different night, of course) and do the same thing (except he and his sister would drive me home, and he would walk me up to my porch and squeeze my hand goodnight). But as our friendship grows, something about him changes, and it has nothing to do with me. Pretty soon I probably find out from his sister that he's dating...like, "worldly" kind of dating, some other girl. Some other girl who wasn't brought up with any relational foundations his family and my family focused on, and he's basically compromising all he's ever been brought up to do to be in this exciting relationship with this exciting girl. That's where the deep, sickening feeling of despair comes into play in it's meanest and most heart wrenching form. It's betrayal, really.

That sort of dating seems attractive to me, too, you know. But I know that if I dread seeing it happen to any brother-like guy I know and love like that, then I know that any of those brother-like guys would be filled with that same sense of despair if I suddenly turned from everything I had been brought up to do to go out with some "exciting" guy. That's why I have to remind myself from time to time not to fall under the spell of that game. It's just not the way I will ultimately want things to turn out. And by participating in something like that now, I am just getting further away from any guys who are really worth it.

Now I am just sitting here sadly reflecting.

Well, I should go eat breakfast or something.

Love, peace, and joy…
--Jessica

What Else...?!

I don't know. I'm just so confused. I get that way, you know. And maybe somehow I've become..."comfortable" that way...? That's even more confusing.

Usually when I'm in certain moods, I know there are types of songs or just music in general I feel like listening to. You know, Motley Crue/G&R moods, lovey-dovey song moods, I-hate-you song moods, totally awesome music moods, Christian music moods, Gavin DeGraw moods, and peaceful and serene moods. It's very frustrating to be in some sort of mood where I don't know what kind of music to listen to for it!!! The closest I can come to is somewhere like the Braveheart soundtrack or some sort of...well, I don't know. It just doesn't work. My mom says I'm in a funk, but I don't like funk music...ha ha ha ha ha, huh? Right. Anyway, so I don't know. I've now come to the point where I rant a lot about what my problems seem to be with the hopes at arriving at some grand conclusion at the end of the entry:

So, say there is this girl named...um...Romilly. A nice name, very British, and the name of Emma Watson's daughter, and Emma Watson is British, so we're all set. She doesn't live in England or anything (the girl named Romilly, that is), but in Raleigh, North Carolina. Now, this girl, whose name commonly gets shortened to Rom by her friends, and, for the sake of the person typing this, will be used from here on forward and onward, has two friends, who happen to be boys. The first one's name is Elijah, because I like that name, and the second one's name is Caleb, because I also like that name. Quite FASCINATING, isn't it??? Wonderful. Beautiful. Glorious, b'gorious, amazing, inspirational, sensational...yeah, on with the story...

So Rom is in a bit of a tough spot. She really shouldn't be, being 17 and all, but somehow she couldn't help it, and so ended up...yeah, in a tough spot. You see, the tough spot happens to be somewhat of the doings of Elijah and Caleb. "What could they have possibly done to upset and confuse such a poor little girl who hasn't even quite graduated from highschool?" you might ask. Well, I suppose it will come out eventually. You see, Rom is torn, and for good reason. Elijah is nice, but not...well, she could never quite figure out whether she liked him or not. There was a bit of time within the past couple of months where Rom has sworn that she liked him against her will (there is NO double meaning in that!! For those of you who get that, anyway), but still...well, anyway. The thing is, Elijah for a little while has seemed to really like her, at least that is what she's come to expect, and they have become even moderately close, though she on her guard the entire time.

But then there is Caleb, who personality-wise is the exact opposite of Elijah. He was raised in a similar way to Rom (unlike Elijah, who was certainly not), and is one of those "perfect" guys. Not perfect in the sense of being flawless, but perfect, as in he is much better suited for a person like her. On a recent evaluation of her feelings, Rom has decided that she prefers Caleb above them all. Not in regards to how romantic he may be, but in terms of who, were she thinking sensibly and possibly as someone who is not herself, would be a husband of good character and a good father, etc, etc, etc. Then she thought, maybe it wasn't just Caleb himself, but the basic character and background of Caleb, someone who was like him in the respects of not being so much like Elijah. But why, then, did she like Elijah so much? Or did she?

Rom became very confused as all these thoughts in her head became more and more jumbled. So here is an excerpt from "her diary" to make it easier for the equally confused narrator to say what she is trying to say:

So, I don't know. In fact, I have no idea, and cannot see to the end of this to see if I ever will. And that just frustrates me, I can assure you. *attempts to not sound Jane Austen-ish* *clears throat, begins again* Here we go: Caleb is the ideal husband, Elijah is fun and thrilling. That's not to say Caleb isn't ever fun. In fact, he's quite hilarious, and at least he's not too much of an ever flowing fountain of useless information as most boys are, including Elijah. By the way, I think Elijah is ridiculous. So how can I be drawn to him? Is it the encouragement on his side, where I seem to get none of the sort on Calebs side? At least I know Caleb has a good reason, but maybe that is what I want after all.

Another thing I wonder and worry about is the level I am on with each of them. Being a girl, friendships are important, and I'm sure we all take the time to examine where each of our relationships are at certain times. So I am left to wonder what has become of me? Why is it the boy that doesn't deserve to know so much about me, I am most comfortable with and have made known certain things, as well as just been able to be myself around, while the other boy, with whom I am friendly but not so much in that respect, hardly knows who I really am? I desperately wish it were switched. I act so much differently in each situation. Why why why why why why why why...I don't know. I need to seperate those whys with commas, but I'm too lazy to go back and do it. Oh for GOODNESS SAKE, somebody HELP!!! It is so overwhelmingly confusing, and I can't stop thinking about it for long periods of time, anyway. And so I think that if Caleb knew who I actually was, then he would like me as Elijah does, because Elijah knows for the most part. And so I want to let Caleb know, and in that process I seem to make myself look more like the person he thinks I am, because I feel like I must let him know at once, because I don't want him to have a distorted impression any longer, but it doesn't bloody work, and then I get really frustrated (again) and being to write run-on sentences expressing my resentment and anger at myself.

I don't really want to outright declare who I am, anyway. I'd rather someone wish to find out for themselves, and want to dig deeper and deeper into whoever I happen to be. So there are many layers. Maybe Caleb sees one SIDE of me, and Elijah sees another. But I can just tell that that one side is all Caleb sees me as. That's apparently all there is to me. And why do I act so outspoken and crazy anyways? I'm not. I like sitting and reading books and being quiet and listening. I want to find out about people. I mean, when I have something to say or have gone a while and haven't said anything to anybody about something that really needs to come out because I've been keeping whatever it is in too long (sorry Lizzie and Sarah...I know I talk too much, but you always seem to be around when the above happens). And just because I run my mouth a lot during those times doesn't mean that I don't want to listen. I do. And it doesn't mean that those specitfic people I talk to don't interest me enough to provoke me to listen to them. But that's a bit off topic.

Maybe I'm not sure who the heck I am. Or maybe I am everything. I guess I should just believe that I'm everything that comes out of me. I'm not something which I must mold everything I say to fit whoever I am. I am who I am by what I say and what I do, because it all began as a thought in my head, whether I remember consciously thinking about it at all. There's no personality profile I must stick to. So then why in the world am I so darn frustrated?????

I don't know, um, Romilly. I'm confused too...

I really hate this. I've written quite enough for anybody to be sick of reading, and all I have done is draw some itty-bitty conclusion about something I probably already drew a conclusion about before and already forgot, which I guess makes everything more frustrating. I just don't know what to think, what to do, when to be quiet and when to speak up. I want to make someone want me so bad, but I accidently transferred all I should be doing around him to whoever I am when I am around someone else, whose affections I don't really care if I have. Why? I DON'T KNOW, GOSH DARN IT. STOP ASKING THAT STUPID QUESTION TILL I TELL YOU I CAN COME UP WITH A SUFFICIENT ANSWER. So there.

Well, in that case, if anyone has any music reccomendations, it would be greatly appreciated.

~Jessica or Romilly or whoever...