The Problem with America

SHELLS: Alice and her boyfriend etc. etc.
SHELLS' ROOMMATE: Wait, I always thought Alice was a lesbian.
SHELLS: What? Why?
SHELLS' OTHER ROOMMATE: You know. She's all about women's rights and vegetarianism.
SHELLS: So she's gay because she's a...strong person?

Shells Birthday last April.

Working It Out

Last spring, in Portland, Clara told me, "I am inherently against exercise. Ideally my life would be active enough on its own." I...agree? Not really. I would prefer to do some treadmill time at my own leisure instead of working in a lumber yard. But, today, I literally laughed out loud while rounding out Workout 2 of the 30-Day Shred.

I was watching the fitness ladies demonstrating the squat rows and realized that I was doing the same thing--even if I couldn't see myself. I do feel good after these little DVD work-outs, but they are so random. When I run or swim, that feels like I am gaining some real skill and doing something--even if I'm ultimately not really. But, picking up a little chunk of metal in different positions, jumping around, sinking my knees, standing back up...isn't that funny? Yeah, I get that I am gaining muscle and gaining some real skill in terms of overall strength and health...but for a minute I was thinking "I am so much better at the military press than I was a week ago!" before I remember that that is not a marketable skill of any kind.

Does this all make sense? You get it.

I miss the feeling of feeling.

Absolution

Got lost on my self-made field trip to the Black History Wax Museum of STL. I was disoriented and upset in a sketchfest town after over an hour of fruitless driving when I saw an actual black person trying to hold his car back from rolling down a hill. I rolled down the window (super ironic note: I was listening to the "The Money Song" from Avenue Q) and asked if help was needed. Yes, he gasped. He ran out of gas in such a way that he could not leave the car or it would roll into traffic. With a plastic gas can in tow, I trotted across the street and down a block to grab some fuel for the stranger. I returned, and the car was still stalling. "More," he said, and I agreed. Back again to the station, filled up, crossed the speedy cars once more, watched the car fire up.

People always give these stories in church: "I couldn't figure out why i couldn't get to where I was going, but then, while I was misled I was able to help someone else." Well ding-dang if it didn't just happen to me. For some reason, as I drove away I still felt a twinge of failure. Sure, I had helped a living person instead of oogling wax, but I LOVE WAX. And, then, a school bus of children pulled in front of me. About six kids were crowding the back window making the honk motion. So, I did. In the middle of the crowded highway, I honked with all my might and the kids cheered. That kind of absolves everything.

When you help others you can't help helping yourself.

Insomnia, Journals, and Miracles

My whole life I've been keeping journals--not so quality when I was 8, but they existed. Since I was in 8th grade I've had some form of online blog. Those also have progressed over the years. Tonight, I am battling insomnia yet again, and I hope to all that is Good it doesn't follow me into school. Meanwhile, I decided to re-read my LiveJournal from First Semester of my Junior year of high school.

For those of you unfamiliar with this time period in my life--September through December 2004 was misery. Literally. My mom and I up and moved to St. Louis from Chicago and I called it "Misery" instead of "Missouri". I was sixteen and had no friends. Very sad, many many embarrassing adolescent feelings and situations.

Some Incredible Things I Realized/Remembered:

*The strength inside our hearts and minds is absolutely shocking. My life was hell, and I totally survived.
*My friends from Chicago may be nothing more than a random text or Facebook message once a year, but I am FOREVER in their debt because they supported me more than I can even describe. Although I was long gone from their fast-paced teenage lives, they all made huge efforts to call me frequently, read my depressing journal entries, and leave a million loving and helpful comments and letters.
*It is a miracle in hindsight that I made a few really good friends within two months and those friends were top-o- the-line quality folk.
*My two favorite classes were Improv Fundamentals and Creative Writing I. The only reason I was in either was because the classes I requested wouldn't fit into my schedule, and those were the next best thing. Those are now my primary interests/ career plans.
*My vocabulary, voice, and grammar have come so far. I mean, I'd hope so, but I'm just glad I have proof.

Maybe I'll post some blasts from the past sometime. Until then, I just hope I can blast into dream world before I have to wake up.