um.

i bought my plane ticket to prague today.

the usual anxiety is starting again. hard to say if it's better than before i went to taipei. and one day, i will master it, just as i've conquered other travel-related fears. i figure that once i've had almost everything stolen from me, things can't get much worse, right? right. suffice it to say, the anxiety is ebbed by the fact that i always sleep with one strap of my bag wrapped around an arm, and the bag is always on the side with the wall. you think i'm kidding, but i'm so not.

generally, i will tell you right now that i have no idea where the money has come from, or will come from for that matter. but it always comes. my bank account is like Jesus multiplying the loaves and the fish. this happened to me in europe. and again around month 2 in taiwan. and then again when i was planning for my trip to russia. i always look at the money and think, there's no possible logical way i'm going to do this. but without fail, $20 seems to stretch into hundreds, though i've never been good at doing the math on how this takes place.

a few months in prague. then it's hard to say, but i will figure out where God meant for me to be. i have so many bright ideas about what's going to happen and so few ideas about how i'm going to do it.

but the certainty that i'm supposed to go searching for what it is constantly sits in the back of my mind. it makes my legs twitch and my fingers ache. it gives me euphoric dreams and horrifying nightmares. makes me notice everyone and no one. i feel like my soul sees with so much clarity that i might go absolutely, intellectually mad.

i'm just hoping that i'm wandering in the right direction.

election woes.

i think 2008 might actually give me an ulcer.



i've always hated talking about politics, because i hate what it brings out in people.


also, i just might explode all over the next person who generalizes my faith and/or followers of Christ.

note

fyi:
packing to traipse the globe + quitting job + moving = AHHHHHHHH!

p.s. going to the dentist cost me all of nothing this weekend. this is either because of the insurance or because i work as usas. they remembered me from all those trips with the kids.
still. huzzah!

shit, son

I CAN'T SLEEP! WHY CAN'T I SLEEP!

a good thing

china called today.
(well, actually, they informed my visa agent who informed me)

and they're letting me in the country this summer, despite all the olympic insanity going on. (beijing was, at best, a questionable idea, you guys)

let's hope those russians are as nice.

what's that? oh yes, 20 lbs just lifted off my chest.

no time! no time!

for months, i've been suffering from severe insomnia. for a while, i thought it was stress or too much caffeine or anticipation. but the days and weeks have come and gone, and nothing's changed.

sometimes, while i lay alone in the dark, i put my hand on my chest, and i can feel my heart racing erratically. "calm down," i tell myself. there's nothing to worry about. yet it beats so wildly that i'm certain i'll die. i try and try to close my eyes, but sleep won't come. i try to write down my thoughts. what's wrong? did i forget something? will i get my life together enough these next few weeks? what if rachel and i don't make it into the program? is it him?

the anxiety weighs on me, even in my dreams. i toss and turn, wishing i could forget about my day, or my exhaustion, or the fact that i don't feel like i'm ready for this summer. wishing that, so long as my eyes are closed and i am, at least physically, sleeping, the anxiety will lift and i will feel free, unburdened, and excited.

my room is a disaster right now, full of half-done things. my half-done visa process. half-packed suitcases. books strewn about, because i've only half-decided to give them to angie and half-resolved myself to keeping them. half-answers on moving out, id cards, and international sims. the fact that this cursed mother's day event is only half-done, and chris' half-completed present occupying my desk and the end of my bed.

i calculated today. i teach 5 classes every morning, and 1 class every afternoon. except, last semester i was teaching 3, so let's average it to 2. i also teach 1 class every night, but that doesn't include when i was carrying double class loads after chad left. according to my calculations, i teach 8 classes a day, 40 classes a week, 160 classes a month, and it seems up to this point, over 1,600 classes this past year. i'd never done the math until now. and each day, like clockwork, i feel pressured to invent some new idea for them, to make learning fun and entertaining, so that they forget that their life of academic misery is only beginning.

and each day, the same things wear on me a little more. i'm very, plainly, completely dry. i've heard the expression "i've got nothing left to give" and i always thought it was an excuse. it's not. sometimes, while standing during the morning's song, i'm certain that i'll pass out right there on the spot, because i'm just drained.

but it's only 6 more weeks.

i hadn't considered this

"and then where will you be?"
or so i've heard it said.

joy is a person who panics a little more about going home with each passing day. she's afraid of how fast the next 3 months will go, when 9 felt like nothing.

oh no, i hadn't thought of this.

to do:
work
save money
plan my trip
get my visas
save money
plan my trip
reduce my life to 2 suitcases
send said suitcases home
plan my trip
buy tickets
panic a little
say goodbye to chris/train someone new
panic a little more
finish my contract
move out
traipse through asia
return to the u.s.a.
and the scariest...
????????????


i have dreams every so often. weird dreams. dreams that i went home and said nothing to anybody. i just left. dreams that i went home with hopes of backpacking this summer, because it makes so much sense to return to the states then fly to hong kong and traipse and then go back again. and dreams that i never follow through, which i really regret, because i never got around to seeing that part of the world when i had the chance.

i guess this is going to be more work than i expected.

seriously. it's all i'm asking for.

"ask and you shall receive."
or so the saying goes.


wish i had what i needed
to be on my own
cuz i feel so defeated
and i'm feeling alone

and it all seems so helpless
and i have no plans
i'm a plane in the sunset
with nowhere to land

and all i'm seeing could never make me happy
and all my sandcastles spend their time collapsing

let me know that You hear me
let me know Your touch
let me know that You love me
and let that be enough

it's my birthday tomorrow
no one here could know
i was born next thursday
22 years ago

and i feel stuck watching history repeating
oh, am i just a kid who knows she's needy

let me know that You hear me
let me know Your touch
let me know that You love me
and let that be enough
-jon foreman

i haven't decided

"honesty is the best policy."
or so the saying goes.

i remembered a song i used to listen to in college. and it's a bit trite, but i've seen a lot of truth in it over the years:
i was thinking just the other day
some things are better left undone
some battles better left un-won
some sad songs better left unsung
some fires are better left unfed
some pages better left unread
some words are better left unsaid
-mxpx, unsaid

it's simple, really. if you never say anything, you don't run the risk of feeling foolish.

the interesting thing is that inconvenient honesty seems to compel me to other things. it seems to open my eyes to unexpected aspects of my life that are otherwise ignored.

the past year has been a large lesson in learning not to complain. in building faith through patience. i'm hoping that my pained and awkward honesty produces useful realizations.

almost. part deux.

"when in doubt, don't."
or so the saying goes.

have you ever heard the expression "word vomit?" if you haven't, it's possible that it's not nearly as popular as i seem to think it is right now. or maybe you should just take some time out to watch "mean girls" to get a better understanding. and while lindsay lohan is on the fringe of what might biologically constitute "human," i do love that film.

there's a scene in which lindsay's character can't seem to hold in the truth about the queen "mean girl." she describes her explosion of truth as "word vomit." and then later in the film, it happens again, only she literally vomits. okay, so she was supposed to be drunk, but you get the idea.

i never really understood the expression. it never really made sense to me how one just couldn't stop oneself from saying something. as far as i could tell, there's nothing physical about it. it's simple mind over matter. that was until today. never, ever have i actually been so compelled to say something that i truly felt as though i'd vomit. i actually had to take a second or two. a moment to stop my brain from racing uncontrollably. i'm not sure when, exactly, i became this afraid of saying what i think. it's simple, straightforward to do so. yet i feel the need to swallow it.

almost.

it's 11:21

"logic is the art of going wrong with confidence."
or so the saying goes.

and i'm seriously going on 19 hours of alertness/coherence. i'd go to sleep, but i'm afraid i'll wake up without my shit.

now, good travelers, you would think that the los angeles airport would be semi-dead at this hour. after all, it is a tuesday night and it is nearly midnight. but oh no. in actuality, my friends, it is its own private hell. it's hot, it's stuffy, it's loud, and i am squished into a tiny corner of the airport because, high five(!), i managed to find an open outlet. also, because i couldn't find an open seat next to my gate. we don't board for another hour and a half, so i thought i'd make the most of the money i spent on t-mobile access earlier today.

and i'm mildly amused watching people run to make their flights. you'd be surprised that some can move as fast as they do. also, one would think that it's logical that, if gates are numbered 101-123, 101 would be first. nay, my friends. 101 is on the other side of the terminal, and 123 is the most accessible gate. i hate you, lax.

long gone are the days of sitting in dead silence as i wait for my ryanair/easyjet flight to board.

the panic attacks have subsided for the time being.






on a serious note, i want to ask you all for some prayer. i found out today that my mom's best friend has pancreatic cancer. while she is a believer, it pains us all to see her this way. she's a lovely person... one of my favorite people, in fact. and while we all know the Lord is in control, my heart breaks for her family and for my mother. this is bad, you guys. please be in prayer for her. while this situation seems dire, we are trying to keep in mind that God works outside of time and space. in his infinitude and grace, i am reminded that nothing is impossible and nothing is beyond Him. nothing. not even cancer.

is that all right, is that all right, is that all right with you?

"here's lookin' at you, kid."
or so the saying goes.

gilgamesh had enkidu. orestes had pylades. david had jonathan.
and joy? well.
once upon a time, joy met layce.

"Because we have a moment here, let me tell you that I have recently become a secret connoisseur of 'last looks'. You know the way people look at you when they believe it's for the last time? I've started collecting these looks. "
-drew, elizabethtown


there is no good way of saying it, of ever saying goodbye. i thought having this semester off would prepare me, but it all happened so fast - much faster than i thought it would. "you're my best friend, and i don't know how to express how much i will miss you. deeply. unequivocally. immeasurably." i wanted to say it, but i couldn't. it was too much. too many last looks in one day. "i love you, but i don't know how to do anything about it. i'm stuck, within myself and all the things i want." a combination of liberation and the stifling boundaries of being stuck inside the desire for something bigger, something more, and the hope that today, or any day, what we want will line up again. i love you, more than you could ever understand, but merely saying the words isn't enough. if i love you this much, why would i ever leave? they say that when you have this, if you're smart, you'll never let it go. i try not to think of it that way. i try to hold onto the hope that we let each other go because it's unselfish. because it's what you do if it really is love. i'm only sorry it took 20 years to find you, and 21 to love you and everything you contribute to my life. it seemed too long, and i hope you know that, despite it all, knowing you made that pain worth it. we both know that if it hadn't hurt that much, you and i wouldn't exist. i wish you'd been there to see it happen: the ups and downs, and the almost unnatural cruelty of extracting him. i always thought that extraction of him would lead to a different, better him, but it led me to you instead. despite my complaining, i ask myself always, what would i do without you? all the years of not being picked finally led me to you. you, the one who takes my side. flannery said that a good man is hard to find. and he is, but i've met good men. but a woman like you, a good friend like you, someone who is as consistent as you. you're the kind of person that takes 20 years to find. i know, because i've looked.

i'm gonna miss you, like i miss the ocean when i go to sleep, man it's gonna break my heart - mason jennings

"the first cut is the deepest."
or so the saying goes.

today's predominant topic of conversation was a reflection of the difficulty of finding truly faithful people. nobody's perfect, but i've realized how much i've come to accept a second-string role. not that acceptance doesn't frustrate me at times. i'm simply well-acquainted with the concept of other people getting picked over me. i think i can be a good friend, but i do realize that i become increasingly apathetic when i start to notice a few patterns. things like: not getting a phone call, making plans and having them broken for other people (unless it's the queen of england, this really shouldn't happen, and even then, you might want to ask if your friend can come along), consistently having others picked before me, or general boredom. yes, even in college, it turns out that some social constructs really never change.

my mom always used to tell me that i should feel lucky if i can find one truly faithful person who will always, no matter what, pick me first. she said a good way to conceptualize this is to imagine every person i know has won an amazing, all-expense paid trip to hawaii, but can only take one person. who do i think they'd pick? if i think it would be me, there's my answer. the disheartening truth is, however, that one of those people is moving away in about two weeks. i've said it once, twice, a dozen times, and i'll reiterate: i'm absolutely not okay with it. i'm going to feel a profound void when she's gone. she's my ally. my solution for today, however, is to live in denial.

i've usually been an advocate of many chances. and i know as well as anyone that nobody's perfect. but i'm finding that as school begins to fade away, i need to be more selective about some of the people in my life. not selective about who i should treat with kindness. that's everyone. or about who i should see, because i will see or spend time with a variety of people. but about who i feel is worth my genuine effort. about what i say. and about surrounding myself with people who encourage, edify, and challenge me. those people are difficult to find, but they are worth more than 10 of those who make me feel anxious or insecure.