Sometimes I feel like Dory

 fish....

Do you know why they bump into the glass all the time?

...just like Dory, their memory only lasts for two seconds.

They forget they're in a tank...seperated by this wall....this constant blockade that's always mocking..."nope" "not today" "try again in two seconds please"...and then once again...

 BAM! 

....Reminded that things cannot be the way you wish they are every two seconds. 

I am like a little Dory.

I constantly desire to make God human.

I constantly want to place Him amongst just another one of my peers. 

I constantly and selfishly want to treat Him similar to everything and anything else in my life.

I constantly demand that He act in ways I understand or recognize. 

I constantly forget that He is not like me...not like us. 

I know He's not human.

I know His ways are not my ways...but only for a little while.

...and then I'm reminded.

once again I've forgotten that I've forgotten. 

But like Dory, I'll just keep swimming...and forgetting...and swimming and forgetting...and the cycle will repeat many times...until my memory begins to improve...begins to lengthen...begins to be restored. 

Then I'll finally reach the place I was created for...where I always remember and never forget 

no more barriers....no more reminding...

just glory...

...just keep swimming

...just keep swimming...

...just keep swimming... swimming...swimming...

couch=community

I'm currently writing this in one of the most amazing places ever....the leather couch in memorial. If you haven't let your buns experience this ocean of comfort (i don't even know what that means but it sounds nice) then you need to. 

I've seem to have found that these couches do not only produce a prime napping environment...they produce a lovely community and here's what I mean:

Have you ever sat on one end of the couch and then someone else came and sat at the other? I mean instantly you learn so much about that person and share a connection...like how you both prefer to sit on the amazing leather couch rather than the bad, patterned, poop brown chairs that surround it. Or how you both aren't afraid to choose comfort over the risk of falling asleep when you are supposed to be doing something productive.

Oh, and then there's the post nap experience that is just phenomenal....

 I have found that every time that I have woken up from a nap on one of these couches, and look up at someone in the surrounding area (looking like a baby who just came out of the womb)...someone will either always smile...or just glance quickly at me...and its in that small moment that you can almost hear them say "long day? yah, me too" or "how was your nap?" or "you've got a little a drool on your shoulder but its okay..." 

I say we get rid of chairs...

that is all.

thinking about words again...

I had quite the romantic day today....

didn't go on a date

didn't get flowers

didn't smooch

instead....

I had breakfast at Ernie's. 

I met two friends this morning at Ernie's diner... it was early and I was tired...and confused at why a 9 oclock breakfast at Ernie's was necessary when I didn't have class until 11. 

But then I was pleasantly surprised...by everything...the weather...the random topics of conversation...my attention span at 9 in the morning...

When thinking about this morning the only word that could come to my mind was romantic. 

I don't know why. 

....Mac's dictionary describes romantic using the words "mystery" and "love." 

I mean I knew I was going to Ernie's, knew that I was going at 9, and knew who I was meeting...but I guess the fact that I'm thinking about this whole thing sixteen hours later means that it must have been the slightest bit mystifying....or mysterious in one way or another...and I love it. 

So there you go...mystery and love....because of breakfast at Ernie's.

Ok so Nicholas Sparks won't include my morning at Ernie's in his next novel...

But if you really think about it...most days, if you're not omniscient or soulless, are quite romantic.

lies

Something really sad happened in my chemistry lab the other day....or actually to my lab partner....

She was telling me about her dreams of becoming a surgeon and different medical missions she had been on with her uncle, and that surgery was the field where her heart really was....and then she started talking about her heart....

She said to me, "My biggest struggle in becoming a doctor will always be the size of my heart...". 

I've never seen someone have a heart attack...until wednesday when she said this. 

Right then and there...I could tell something was attacking her heart...telling it to shrink...threatening that it would hold her back from her real potential. 

LIES! 

Yes, Theresa (that's her name) and I might be the only ones blubbering in the waiting room or sealing our stitches with tears...but how much more will a heart beat mean to us? Or a breath? Or a twitch?.... If you ask me, I would want a doctor who holds these things sacred...wouldn't you? 

I've been thinking about drama a lot lately. The word...its meaning...its many connotations...Why is it when we hear the word drama we think of crap, or gossip, or sucky days, or that one time Heath asked you out through a note that said circle "yes" or "no" but it was really a mean joke from some girls that didn't like your overalls that day and then you had to call your brother from the office while you were faking a stomach ache so that he could come pick you up?!!

ahem...anyways...

 Why is it that when we go on trips we don't want "any drama"? I mean someone on that trip could be walking on the beach and find a sweet note in a bottle from someone who was shipwrecked...that's fricken awesome....but nonetheless dramatic... 

and what about when Jesus walked around here....dramatic right?...think about if it wasn't....or if he didn't stir anybody or anything up?

food for thought?

except no food...

sorry that was deceptive of me...

and now this post is looking a little dramatic...

no wait....

lks;lgksd;lk cslkLK:LKG:LK!!! l:LGK:LGKDLKGS !!! GLKD:LKGSKELKMFLMFL:!!!!!!!

....yes there we go....

candid apologies

First off I would like to apologize...I believe that I have neither the wit nor outrageous original thoughts to have a blog (Liz I wish I could see your face)....But I shall try!

Ok...hhmmm lets see...

OH! lets start with this outrageously large picture of me. (I am sorry about that as well)...this lovely candid was taken in a subway station in Paris. While Liz and I were backpacking through out Europe last summer she became frighteningly intrigued with taking candid food photos of myself. In this picture, although you can't see it, I am holding gourmet chocolate (that came from a vending machine...) in my hand. First this picture frenzy was funny...yah yah we laughed at the various unattractive candid photos (of me)...and then these "funny" moments hit a plateau...and they started looking like this....

As you can see...no longer do I express a playful curiosity for my sister's new interest....now....I'm borderline concerned...and a witttllltle angnwee....I believe this picture of me was tagged as "grumpy gills." 

Alas, my first blog. 

How do you end this thing?

the end?

sure..