cravings

I don't feel like writing today.

Unfortunately, the blog challenge is not to write when I feel like it, its to write everyday... no matter what I feel like. It seemed simple enough at first, but I guess it's days like this that make it a challenge.

I read something this morning that I've been thinking about all day. I usually nap everyday, but today I decided to keep going... maybe that's why I'm so tired right now. Either way, I want to share what I read. I realize it's kind of a cop out to copy and paste something on my blog just so I can check off "write everyday" on my imaginary "to do" list, but the rules of the daily blog challenge never got that specific, so I see no harm in "sharing" what's been on my mind all day.

This is an excerpt from a daily devotional by Oswald Chambers, whom I know at least one of you are familiar with. Its interesting that I'm coping out and posting this just because I don't feel like writing.

Once you read it, I'm sure you'll understand why.

CAN YOU COME DOWN?

"While ye have light, believe in the light." John 12:36

We all have moments when we feel better than our best, and we say - "I feel fit for anything; if only I could be like this always!" We are not meant to be. Those moments are moments of insight which we have to live up to when we do not feel like it. Many of us are no good for this workaday world when there is no high hour. We must bring our commonplace life up to the standard revealed in the high hour.

Never allow a feeling which was stirred in you in the high hour to evaporate. Don't put your mental feet on the mantelpiece and say - "What a marvelous state of mind to be in!" Act immediately, do something, if only because you would rather not do it. If in a prayer meeting God has shown you something to do, don't say - "I'll do it"; do it! Take yourself by the scruff of the neck and shake off your incarnate laziness. Laziness is always seen in cravings for the high hour; we talk about working up to a time on the mount. We have to learn to live in the grey day according to what we saw on the mount.

Don't cave in because you have been baffled once, get at it again. Burn your bridges behind you, and stand committed to God by your own act. Never revise your decisions, but see that you make your decisions in the light of the high hour.

imagine

So, I'm in my room reminiscing to some old tunes I used to run to and it's really hard for me to concentrate on writing when Destiny's Child "Booty-luscious" is blasting in the background. I can not, however, bring myself to turn it off. I don't think I'm ready.

Pause for now... I must dance.



Annnnnnnnnnd... done!


After my dance session, I put in a cover album of some of the Beatles greatest hits. It reminds me of my childhood. I went through a long phase in middle school where I swore I was supposed to be the fifth Beatle who was born into the wrong time period. My walls were covered with posters of the fabulous four and I would day dream about what it would be like to play the piano in the background while John, Paul, George and Ringo would rock out center stage. I sat perfectly still behind a beautiful piano during the song "In My Life" and waited for John to give me the cue with a look and a head nod, which meant I could take it away on the piano solo.

After I'd finish they'd all smile as they kept singing and I'd smile too because I knew after the show they would all tell me how proud they were of me.

I was a weird kid.

I lived mostly in my imagination with a few real friends here and there. I had crushes on guys I knew I would never meet, either because they were famous or they were dead. I often pretended like my life was a movie and I would take on different roles of different characters.

I made fun of my little sister a lot because she made this club called "the cleaning club" where she would talk to the mirror, a.k.a her TV audience, and teach them how to properly clean their rooms. Her room was the demonstration room. This is what she did for fun. I thought she was crazy.

Though I made fun of her as to appear "cool," I also talked into my mirror every time I was in my room. The difference was that it was cooler when I did it... I wasn't pretending to be the president of the cleaning club, I would pretend my "boyfriend" was on the other side and I'd be crying over a breakup, or that I lost my job and didn't know how I was going to support my kids. Once I was even on a hockey team that just won a national championship and I was responding to the the coach telling me I was the backbone of the team... although I'm pretty sure that scene was shortly after watching the quack attack come back in The Mighty Ducks sequel. I didn't always invent the scenes, sometimes I just re-enacted them the way I thought they should go. I thought of it as creativity with just a touch of plagiarism.

I was about to say I miss those days of my imagination running wild, but I can't necessarily say they are over. Things have definitely changed... I have to worry about paying bills and buying groceries, so I can't run around as careless as I did when I was a child, but I still daydream. I still talk into my mirror, but better yet, now that I'm all grown up I have my own camera and actually get to capture some of my nonsense on tape.

This is a peek behind closed doors when no one is around. I never planned on showing this to anyone when I filmed it, I just had the camera sitting there and I was bored, so I turned it on...

pointless

23 minutes till midnight and I honestly got nothing.

How can I have nothing to say?

Do I care that much about what I write that I can't write unless it's perfect? I can't come up with the perfect entry in 23 minutes...

oop... 22.

In an attempt to not be perfect, there is absolutely no point to the story I'm about to tell... but who knows, maybe one will come out of it.

A Pointless Story About My Day
by JJ Barrows

My alarm went off this morning at 5:20. I worked from 6:00am-2:30pm, but my day didn't really start until I got home from work.

I painted today.

I got paint stuck in my finger nails, and although I washed most of it out there were definitely some traces left behind resulting in what looked like "hey mom, look, I just dug a hole in the back yard!"

Long story short, because I'm running out of time, I bite my fingernails... a lot.

OK, a whole lot.

Today was no exception, although it would have been nice if it were due to the fact that I had oil and acyclic paints stuck in my fingernails.

I drove out to the suburbs around 7pm, biting my nails, because let's face it... what else is there to do in traffic? And about half way through my trip I began to feel really weird, and kind of woozy.

It suddenly dawned on me that I might possibly be eating paint chips.

And then I realized...

I'm definitely eating paint chips.

By the time I got to my destination, church, mind you, I felt sick and slightly high.

How do I know what's like to feel high? I don't, because the one time I did try pot, I did not inhale.

OK, that's not true, I didn't inhale on more than one occasion.

OK, that's not entirely true either, but that's a topic to be discussed later when I have more than 19 minutes left to write before my daily deadline. For those of you who want to pray for my soul now, don't worry, I have repented since "those days" and been forgiven, but thank you for your concern.

In a nut shell, I went to church high. Not on drugs, not on life, not on the Holy Spirit... on paint that I had eaten from underneath my fingernails.

What an exciting life I lead.


Thank you, Lord... for today. For the weather, for my bacon & cheese sandwich, and that little spot on the corner where we sat in the sun on my lunch break.

Thank you that I got to paint, outside, even if I did get a little high. Thank for not only understanding but giving me my sense of humor.

Thank you that I can rest in the truth that it is your smile that I live for and not that of the "world" or the "church."

Thank you, Lord.

It is You, I adore.


That's not pointless at all!

Thank you, Lord.

spending

Today I am morning the loss of a friend...

the Polaroid camera.

Never again to be found in stores (aside from resale and thrift), the Polaroid camera and its sidekick, Polaroid film, have been officially discontinued as of February 5, 2010.

I went online and tried to buy film for a Polaroid camera today. The cheapest I found was $32.00 plus shipping. The most expensive was over $200... no joke.

Its as if as soon as Polaroid was discontinued, anyone who had any left in stock tripled the price and knew people would pay for it simply because they all of a sudden couldn't have it.

Why do we do that? Why do I do that?

I want what I can't have. Sometimes not even necessarily because I want it, but simply because I can't have it. And then I get it, and I realize I don't want it.

I know the cycle, yet I find myself repeating it.

Or let's say I legitimately do want something... not because I can't have it, or because I need it, but just because I want it.

Is that reason enough to get it?

I need to pay my bills. I want a Polaroid camera with film.

Last week I wanted to go to Africa. Last week I needed to pay my bills.

Going to Africa seems more of a noble cause to invest in than a Polaroid camera, but nonetheless, I can't justify going to Africa either simply because it is a "noble" cause. I still need to pay my bills.

I hate growing up.

Sometimes.

Right now BLICK (art store) has canvases on sale for 50-60% off. I want some new canvases. When and where else am I going to find canvases for that cheap? I need to get them now.

OK, I don't need to, but I want to.

I also need to get groceries for this week. And let's be honest, I don't want to but I need to.

It's funny how much I don't like spending money on the essential things in life and how willing I am to waste it on the latest trend.

Yuck.

I'm too tired to continue and I know my thoughts are scattered, but this is what it looks like to just write without days and days of proof reading and editing before posting an entry.

I always talk about being authentic, but I make sure I sound good when I do it.

I have a feeling this challenge of blogging everyday is going to be a bit harder than I thought. But I think it will be good. I have to set down my desire of wanting to come across as a good writer and just write, despite how I come across.

I still want a Polaroid camera, and some canvases, and a bike. I was hoping that would change by the end of this, but it hasn't. I realize it's OK to want those things, but it doesn't mean I need them.

I need to pay my bills, I need to buy some groceries, and I need to spend a whole lot more....



time in prayer.

someone

I have this sticker on my computer that says "write everyday."

I thought by having it on my computer, it would motivate me to do so.

It actually does the exact opposite. I look at the sticker and think "what a good idea," but then when I don't do it I feel somewhat like a loser or a failure, or just plain lazy. Instead of feeling motivated I feel tired from all of my negative self talk and opt for a nap instead.

I'm pretty sure I would feel really good about myself if I had a sticker above my bed that said "nap everyday." I would definitely feel well accomplished.

As much as I really do love writing, it's hard to find time for it. That and the fact that it's hard to get past the thought that anyone would want to read what I have to say. I saw a tee shirt once that said "your blog sucks" and I may have taken it personally... even though this kid had no idea who I was or that I even had a blog.

Women.

I put the "me" in women. I used to think I was different and so not the emotional type. That was until I got older and realized that there really is something about the way women are wired that just makes us crazy.

That's another topic I would love to discuss sometime, but for now I just want to get to the point.

Someone challenged me to write on my blog everyday, even if it's just a sentence or two, to at least get me in the habit of writing, and they also would take on that challenge.

Today is day one and I find myself without much to say, but up to the challenge. So here I write, mostly about nothing, but excited and slightly nervous to see what will come of this.

Thank you, dear someone, for encouraging me to write and taking part in this challenge with me.

This has long been one of my favorite quotes, but I have yet to live it out. I hope this inspires us both...



“Write everyday. Line by line, page by page, hour by hour. Do this despite fear. For above all else, beyond imagination and skill, what the world asks of you is courage. Courage to risk rejection, ridicule and failure. As you follow the quest for stories told with meaning and beauty, study thoughtfully, but write boldly. Then, like the hero of the fable, your dance will dazzle the world.”

–Robert Mckee

circling

I woke up feeling quite refreshed today. I was tempted to sleep a little bit longer until I felt my heart sink down to my stomach as I realized I forgot to move my car last night from the tow zone it was parked in.

Hear me out, responsible loved ones who want me to make wise choices... it wasn't a tow zone when I parked there. It became a tow zone the following morning at 7:00am when the high school I live across from takes up ownership of that whole side of the street until at least 4:30pm.

"Maybe by some shear miracle they didn't tow me," I optimistically thought to myself. As I put on my jacket and grabbed my keys I thought about it more... "yea right, the city of Chicago not make money off of me... hah!"

With a city in as deep of debt as Chicago, the people who work for the city become like vultures, scouting the streets for their next victim. I know this to be true since this is my 3rd time being towed since moving to the city last November. I won't mention the number of parking tickets.

People always ask, "how do you like Chicago?" I always answer the same, "other than parking and the weather, I love it."

Sure enough, I get to the street and my car is gone. Man, I love that feeling first thing in the morning! It just sets the pace for the whole day. I was so excited to figure out where it was towed to, how much it was going to cost, and how I was going to get there before going to work this afternoon. So many mysteries lay ahead of me.

The funny thing is, I'm being half serious. Someone once told me that life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you respond to it. So in an attempt to change my attitude, I decided to play a little game... "who's got JJ's car?"

As it turns out, the city owns this place called "lower hell" on Lower Wacker Drive where it takes all of it's victims. Part of what is so hellish about this place is that it's impossible to find. Even if you get to Lower Wacker and see a bunch of parked cars, you can't figure out how to get to where those parked cars are. It's like circling a giant snow globe and so desperately wanting to get in while knowing that it's impossible.

So, the first attempt happened before work today. My roommate took me to the address I was given and sure enough, we can't find it. Not only can we not find it, we are led to an exit on the highway instead of the parking lot of a towing company. We take the exit, seeing as it is our only option, and decide she will take me to work for now and I will try to figure out how to get it later. I keep hearing the guy's voice in my head, "You have until 12:01 tonight or the charge goes up $10."

It's now 8:15pm, and I still don't have my car. I got off of work, made a few phone calls and realized the reason most other people don't get towed is because they don't have cars. I'm tempted to leave it there, but I'm sure it could be used for something more enjoyable like a derby demolition.

I'm not too thrilled about the thought of taking the train and walking down Lower Wacker late at night, by myself, but I keep it in the back of my mind as a last resort.

And for now, I wait. I've left a few messages for people, scolding them for screening my phone call and then asking them to do me a favor. Hopefully they will feel touched by my sincerity and jump at the thought of taking me across town to lower hell.

I don't really have a point to this story, other than to say I agree with what that person told me... "life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you respond to it." Yea, it's frustrating to have to figure all of this out, but it's not a crisis and it's not out of my control. I have a slight headache, but for the most part I'm really not too worried about it, and it didn't ruin my day. Take that, city of Chicago, I hope you use my money wisely!

I guess it's also important for me to make one other point of this story for the sake of sounding responsible, since there are people who trust me with their children...

NEVER park in a tow zone... no matter how special you think you are.

singing with sam

I'm trying to fall asleep and ignore the fact that my favorite hoodie smells like burnt coffee, but it's too potent to ignore. I never should have worn that thing to work. I take it off and chuck it across my room hoping I won't smell it from over there.

I'm having trouble sleeping at night these days... or nights, I guess I should say. I find no trouble in falling asleep during the day, except for the fact that the day wasn't meant to be slept through... unless you're an owl, or perhaps a bear during the winter.

As odd as this may sound, I went to the bathroom the other day and thought about what it would be like to be a bear. Nothing about going to the bathroom particularly gave me this thought, just the mere act of sitting down (as girls do when they pee, let's clarify) made me wish I could fall asleep and not wake up until it's warm and sunny outside.

"I kinda wish I was a bear," I thought to myself. "I bet they don't struggle with seasonal affective disorder because they sleep through the most dark and depressing time of the year. I wish I could sleep through winter. Especially this winter. This has been a hard winter."

I flush my thoughts away along with tinkle town and I go on with my day.

But I keep coming back to this thought... "I wish I was a bear. I wish I could sleep through all of winter and then nobody would bother me about how I'm sleeping too much because I'd be a bear and it would be normal."

I sleep a lot. Mostly during the day. Some people say I'm stuck on a bad sleep cycle and I just need to break it. Some people suggest I should get my thyroids checked or be tested for anemia. And some people think I'm just lazy. The people I work with joke around and say I party too much which is why I'm always tired at work. I laugh it off because they and I both know it's not true, but sometimes I wish it was just for the mere fact that there would be a reason for why I am so tired all the time.

I keep hoping that when the season changes, something in me will change too. I don't even know what it is, I just know that something needs to change. I'm not who I was. And not in a cheesy Christian song written by Brandon Heath kind of way, or in a "I once was lost, but now am found" kind of way, but in a way that has brought me here to a place of almost hopelessness and begging "Lord, please, give me the joy of my salvation!"

"I've found you, but I'm still lost. I've been set free, yet I'm stuck again. I know you are good, but I've lost sight of your goodness. I don't feel you, see you, hear you, or know you anymore, but I know you are there. Where, God, where is the joy of my salvation?

But more importantly...

Where are you?"

I'm OK with asking these questions. The problem comes when it's my turn to listen for the answers. I don't listen. I sleep.

Sunday was the one year memorial of the death of a friend who took her life last March. I tried not to think about it. Instead, I slept. It's not the answer, but it's easier. And when going through a season of apathy, unfortunately I settle for whatever is the easiest.

I looked up the word apathy on dictionary.com and I found my name. OK, not really, but I found what best describes how I have felt about life for some time now...

Apathy:

1. absence or suppression of passion, emotion, or excitement.

2. lack of interest in or concern for things that others find moving or exciting
3. freedom from emotion of any kind.

Freedom? I used to beg for freedom... freedom from addictions, from bondage, from people pleasing, from abusive relationships, from self hatred, from anger, from depression, the list goes on...

I used to beg and plea for freedom and time and time again God has set me free, and yet instead of being thankful I find myself here... free from emotion of any kind.

Apathetic instead of thankful.

I don't want that kind of freedom... freedom from emotion. I want freedom from apathy, even if it means dealing with the hard stuff and squirming in the discomfort of facing it head on.

Something in me has to change, and I think it's bigger than the weather.

The time for excuses is almost over. I say almost because, let's be honest, freedom form apathy isn't that easy. Coming to the realization of the need for change is different than the actual process of making change happen (yes, who can, Mr. Obama?).

Change is not instant, and it's not easy. I still want to make excuses, and I'm frustrated at the thought of giving up those excuses... I still want whats easy, I won't lie about that.

But truth be told, as comfortable as my excuses make me, I'm not happy. I'm just comfortable. What a boring life! The absolute last thing I would ever want my obituary to read is "she led a comfortable life."

And with that thought, seeing as it's almost 3am, I realize it's time for me to get up, get off the couch,

and go to bed.