Sometimes I get frustrated with our imperfect world.

People and how they make all these mistakes.

Myself and how I can’t always get everything done on my to do list.

The construction and how it ruins my pictures of the pretty field that used to be in my backyard.

The temporary nature of the world.


But when I think about these things, I remember something. In order to truly love something, we have to embrace it’s imperfect nature. I have to remember that people do not always make the right choices, that sometimes I overload myself and sometimes construction happens.

I want to love our imperfect world because it is where God placed me.

Even if I am truly sick of the construction. 

On Writing: Why I like it

I love writing.


A. It’s an escape from my life into someone else’s life.

B. I control the situations in my character’s lives and if I make them miserable and no longer want to be a part of their lives, I can just stop writing that story.

C. It helps me get emotions out while pretending they are my characters emotions and have absolutely nothing to do with me or my experiences. It’s very convenient. Don’t tell anyone.

D. Sometimes, my writing makes other people think about something in a new way or allows them to escape into a different world. And what could be better than that?

I also hate writing.


A. Not everything I write is perfect (appalling, right?).

B. Sometimes my stories won’t leave my head. ANNOYING.

C. It’s hard.



Of basket making, teal and Phillip Phillips (yes, they relate)

Basket Making

My Mom has been crafting a lot lately. She is planning this fabulous boutique for next winter and is preparing early. Sometimes, she tries to explain her ideas to me and I’ll be like, “Uh-huh. Who are you and what did you do with my Mom?”

Actually, I only say the “uh-huh” part and then think the rest. But I’m sure she can see the doubt on my face when she is in the middle of explaining some elaborate idea.

The latest thing was basket making. She likes to recycle and reuse other things so she decided that she would use wire fence to make a basket.

I know, right? I was preparing the wanted, “Mom” posters in my mind.

Anyways, I just smiled while she explained it and then went on to other things. I mean, fence is fence and baskets are baskets…No.

However, when my Mom did finally make a basket from fence wire and it actually kind of worked (after, um, a few tries). I was impressed.

Teal (I promise, this all comes together at the end)

The other day I saw someone outside wearing teal and I told my friend Cory that the person outside really shouldn’t be wearing teal because it was NOT their color and blah blah blah.

A little while later, Cory said that teal was his favorite color. (It wasn’t completely out of the blue, by the way, it just came up in conversation.)

After I got over feeling awful for bashing someones favorite, I listened to WHY teal was his favorite color. He told me that teal was a cool color because you can wear it and it’s not overboard but still sort of sticks out. Like instead of wearing something appalling or bright, you are wearing something that is more than un-noticeable, simply different.

Phillip Phillips

“Gone, Gone, Gone” is one if Phillip Phillips songs, if you didn’t know. I really like it ’cause it is fun to listen to, nice on the ears in a strange drumming way.

It came on the radio today and my friend Aisling was like, “Oh, this is the cancer song!”

I looked at her like she was certifiably crazy, “I don’t think so…”

“I could be wrong, but I think it is!” Aisling informed me. She then went on to explain that she thought Phillip Phillips was singing it to his girlfriend or wife about how he would take care of them when they were sick. “I’ll share in your suffering/To make you well, to make you well” and so on.

It was an impressive explanation but I replied with, “I think it’s about breaking up or her leaving him because…” Wait, why did I think that, again? Maybe I was the crazy one!

Yes, they relate

I think maybe I should, you know, listen to other people more. And assume less. Maybe sometimes, my opinion isn’t right or the best one (Mind blowing, right?). I mean…

A. I thought basket making with wire fence wouldn’t work and it actually did.

B. I thought teal sucked as a color but I bought a teal shirt and wore it and I felt pretty cool.

C. I assumed that “Gone, Gone, Gone” was just another breakup song and it probably isn’t.

So I’ve come to a conclusion. If it were New Year’s Day, this would be my resolution for the year. However it’s not, so it’s just…a decision.

I am going to listen to people. Listen to opinions. I’m going to try not to assume and possibly get rid of the “are you crazy?” face expression (okay, maybe not that one). I’m going to try and have an open mind because it seems that I’m not always right, after all 😉 I also plan to try things other people’s way, a different way, because I don’t want to just be stuck with the status quo.

I told you they related.

Reading a Poem and Living a Life

Reading a Poem and Living a Life

When I first read the poem from the above blog post, I thought it was stupid. The poem discusses how mistakes will happen and that you should learn from them and some other life advice crap.

I was rather disappointed. I mean, shouldn’t it be telling me about how I would succeed and do great things and “be the change” in the world? Shouldn’t it be saying how every problem is an opportunity? Who was this person to say that I should go and make mistakes?

So, I mentally ripped apart the poem before discarding it in my mental advice-went-wrong trash bin.

Then, college happened. I went and what did I do at college? I made MISTAKES. Just like the poem told me to do. I never made them on purpose, but they were there regardless. They hurt and they stung.

Guess what came to mind when I made mistakes?

That poem.

“Make new mistakes.  Make glorious mistakes.  Make mistakes nobody’s ever made before.”

Apparently mental trash bins don’t work so well.

But you know what? That poem made me feel better when I’d made a mistake. It reminded me that (contrary to my happy belief) I would not always be perfect or successful.

That poem reminded me that making mistakes is okay.

So I thought I’d share it with you all. You know, so you can try out that mental trash bin and see if yours works better than mine.

Just a bunch of transactions

Ringing people up is one of the main jobs I do at the gas station I work at.

There are also other things I do….

Help people who can’t figure out how to work the pump, wash the dishes, dust the store, make not snacks, socialize with co-workers while counting out of my till, check the work email, answer the phone, and so on.

But while there are a lot of other chores, ringing is probably the most time consuming.

This relates to real life. Life is like working at a gas station.


Well, for starters, life is really just a bunch of transactions with people and items and emotions. Some of the transactions are quick while others make you feel better than before they started. Then there are the one’s where someone thinks they didn’t get their fair share in the transaction.

There are co-workers who never seem to leave like family.

There are chores you have to do even if you don’t particularly want to.

There are people you like talking to and others you don’t necessarily like talking to.

There are some people who need help and others who can help.

There are phones to answer.

There are beginnings, ends and middles.

You can sum it all up or break it all down but in many ways, life is just a bunch of transactions.

Books and real life

Fictional books are very different from real life. As an avid reader, I would love to have a life of the average heroine.

You know, slaying dragons and saving the world all by myself.

However, that isn’t real life. Books are just one perspective on something that didn’t actually happen. Fictional books take out the boring parts of life and usually have a perfectly happy ending.

I think that while my life is not like a book in the slaying dragons way or in the there-aren’t-any-boring-moments-in-my-life way, there are parts of my life that are like a book.

Consider this: every day we get up and do something. We go to work or school or stay home. But we get up. Some people achieve things. Some people fall in love. Some people conquer fears.

We might not slay any dragons as part of our daily routine. But…maybe we overcome our fear of spiders by killing the one lurking in our bathroom.

Maybe we try a little harder or do something more. Maybe we learn and change and overcome hardships. Maybe we exaggerate a wee bit so that our lives seem more like a book.

Maybe our lives really are just a little bit like a book, simply on a smaller scale. Maybe, just maybe, it’s all about how we look at it.