Flashbacks.

As I butter my toast for breakfast, I find myself remembering (what I think was) the first time I was in charge of making and buttering the toast for the routine Sunday breakfast at my dad's. We all had a hand in it, more and more so as time went on and my brother and I proved we were capable of helping without burning our fingers off or anything. I felt so grown up to be in charge of the toast because hey, toast is the cornerstone of a great breakfast. It was always eggs, toast, sausage, and sometimes pancakes (although that tapered off as I over-pancaked somewhere along the line). I smiled as I remembered doing that at the first apartment my dad lived in, the one with the really cool pantry with the metal doors that slid open and shut like an accordion -- the perfect hiding spot. It was much better than the closet because it had two sides with shelves to choose from rather than sitting in a pile of shoes underneath the coats, and it didn't have the oily, diesel-y smell of my dad's work jackets.

I also came to realize that my dad gave me my first experiences with real cooking. He let me make chocolate pudding one day for dessert. Sure, it was instant, but hey, when you're a little kid you feel like you can conquer the world after mixing it all by yourself and pouring it into the cups for everyone. My curiosity and enjoyment of cooking just grew from that point onward.

It's fun to look back and pinpoint the exact moment when you first learned to do something, and the first moment when you recall having a spark of passion for something. Try and think about that next time you're doing something you really love to do. It's interesting to see what other long lost details come to light again with those thoughts.

~"Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend." [Albert Camus]~

Remaining Time

Alright, I've got about 2.5 weeks left before going back to school, and they are going to be cuh-razy. There's always a lot to fit into the last few weeks of being home, but usually it's just all of the social things I want to do beforehand. This, however, has not been a typical summer, and so why should the ending be any different? Okay, here's what's gotta go down:

- One last project at the center where I did my GS project (working with a summer program for kids)
- My very last shift at Dinner By Design (two whole hours. I don't know if I can survive!! ...not.)
- MADISON with Ls (finally!)
- Finishing the 7-10 pg paper, 10 journals, and posterboard presentation for my GS project and getting it organized and ready to turn in on the first day of classes
- Organizing the contents of my room (and random other belongings spread throughout the house) and packing them
- Moving said belongings out of Mom's house
- Eye exam
- Packing up my aunt's apartment/finding a place to put that stuff
- Packing/organizing everything for my dorm
- Making everything for my dorm fit into my car
- Cleaning at Dad's house
- Lasagna with the brother
- Two last hurrahs with friends at the movies (HP6, Julie & Julia)
- Figuring out what's wrong with my disk drive so that I can actually use it...especially to do a system restore...
- Enjoying time with my family (Girls' Night!)
- Side trip to MO?
- Finding a home for my two cats =o(

CRAZINESS! INSANITY!

...and I should probably be spending less time on the Internet and more time making the things on this list happen.

I'm so excited to go back to school, but it's bittersweet knowing how fast the time's going to go, especially knowing that I might not be living around here again depending on what happens with work in Nebraska. Whatever happens will be great, though. I can feel it. =o)

~"How do you keep your feet on the ground when you know you were born to fly?" ["Born To Fly" - Sara Evans]~

Mattering.

I'm beyond ready to be back at school. It'll be wonderful to be in an environment where I can be productive everyday, be back at the church I'm missing so terribly, catch up with people...and where I can live in a place where I matter again.

I'm not saying I don't matter to people here. I know I do. I would be crazy to think otherwise. What I am saying is that the home where I spend most of my time -- the place that is supposed to be my sanctuary from the world -- really isn't. It's a war zone. The shrapnel is words left lodged in my mind. The nuclear weapons are the unspoken words and mounting tensions. It's a toxic environment. It's leaking into everything. It's starting to shape me to fit some of those negative implications about who I am, and it's tearing me away from who I actually am.

I'm trying to hold on to that faith. I'm trying to be strong and trusting. I'm trying to remember that I don't have to have all of the answers or fix everyone's problems, but I'm not doing so hot at that. If I can't be all that happy right now, I want everyone else to be able to be happy at least.

Oh, end of summer, I greatly anticipate seeing you come my way.

~"In a way I need a change from this burnt out scene. Another time, another town, another everything..." ["Shatter" - OAR]~