i really tried

to deactivate my account on Facebook.

but then i remembered that i never answered this ooober long message from a good friend of mine in Africa.

so i reactivated it again. it was really easy. you just log right in.

and just like that my facebook fast was over.

someone

assumed i was a high school graduate when mom and i showed up at the car dealership.

"Oh is this a graduation present?" the lady asked condescendingly, a coke in her hand.



"No." Is all I say.

Even though I knew she was being generous with me by assuming I looked old enough to graduate.

Question of my life: When will I stop looking like I'm fourteen?
Sadness.

friends are good

laughing, screaming, talking over one another,
carrying six different conversations with
eight different people.

your laughter is like orange juice to my soul.
your wild, raucous comments
remind me that my heart can be satisfied much more
easily than i imagined.

i am filled with joy, one that
i believe i hardly deserve.
but i am so grateful.
so unbelievably grateful to have
friends like you in my life.

from all ethnicities, ages,
areas, schools, interests,
you complete me.

you are my nest, my safety,
my cause for dancing, and my
reason for such consistent joy.

from the bottom of my soul,
i love you.
how did i ever do without you for so long?

a purely recreational blog; one that doesnt really make much sense. but it entertained me, so..

i search through my drawers, looking for something that i cannot put my finger on.

what is it? what do i need to find?

an old journal? a picture? a book i once loved and then forgot all about?

im searching for that one missing thing that will make my joy complete. if only i could find what i am looking for...

i glance around at my walls, covered floor to ceiling in collages, paintings, maps, mother boards from my brothers old computers (they are so beautiful to me, in the way of organized and artful information), and books. everywhere books. this room is a disaster-categorized chaos at best. but i love it. everything in it has an irreplaceable value, some sweet memory attached to it. i love it. i take in the essence. the only time i shed a tear coming home is when i stepped inside my room-dusty, untouched, like i never left at all-and just took it all in. did i already say that i love it?

and now i tear it apart, digging through papers, paintbrushes, recipe books, keepsakes looking for that one little thing that will pull it all together. and still, i laugh at myself because i have no idea what im trying to find.

maybe i just need to orient myself. maybe my eyes just need to graze over everything here, take it all in, like a buyer at a swap meet looking for a real prize. my prize is...what? everything here? nothing at all?

im not lost now that i am back home.
i dont feel overly altered by my experiences abroad. a little wiser, maybe. possibly a little disheartened. but on the whole, pretty okay. i love it here. i missed this place. my people. my favorite people in the world that i could be bored with and still have the BEST time ever. my heart was aching for those people.

and oh, the smell of home, too! the glorious, life-giving, soul-lifting sweet fragrance of this place, my town, the mountains, the lake, the sky, the fresh air. oh how i forgot the smells..they would make a sick person well. the fountain of youth springs from these mountains, i'd swear.

and the food! and the grocery stores! and the perfect weather, and the safe drivers, and the abundance of coffee, and people who would never in their life be so rude as to stare at me as i walk down the street because i have white skin. the safety, the comfort, the language freedoms, the familiarity, the streets, the fact that i can drive my car again, the prospect of school. My god, what a wonderful thing is home! i only wish i wasnt so happy to be back!

of course, so much of who i am comes from Africa. i certainly traded a piece of my heart with malawi. i took some, and it took some.

Africa took and took and took until there was no more to take. and then it gave and gave and gave in ways that will take me a lifetime to understand. so, from the bottom of my heart, i am so grateful to you Africa. your sweet sadness is tattooed into my soul.

but now, to search. to search for the thing that makes it all worth it. somewhere-i suppose i have a notion that its tucked away in another drawer, the closet, the attic. somewhere. it has to be there. or is it?

maybe, quite possibly, that something is hidden within me. like a forgotten word on the tip of the tongue.

someday it will spring forth from inside me, curtsy, and smile as if to say, "looking for me?" and i suppose this something would giggle at me as if to say, "I've been right here all along, silly."

and then of course, it will hit me, that the thing i may be looking for is something that does not yet exist. it is hope. it is faith that i am on the road to completion. that God is making a good work in me. that good things will happen, and bad things will happen. but it all will happen, and the future will come when i am looking elsewhere.

yes, perhaps that is it, then. i am searching for an answer to a question i have yet to ask. a clue is what i need, but will not attain. and i search for it madly.


and if i dont stop myself now, i'll probably start garbling into a vague and ridiculous philosophical debate with myself about knowledge and wisdom and future and present, and goodness knows what else.

home.

enough said.