"Rien n'est vrai que ce qu'on ne dit pas."

After writing several letters in the last week or so, Im begining to believe that is true. Nothing is true except what isnt said. Thank you Jean Anouilh.

Why is it so easy to talk to people without saying anything? Why is it so hard to be real? I dont get it. I dont.
Pourquoi c'est toujours comme ça?

Because we are all by nature terribly terribly afraid, or else we have learned it. Humanity was deeply hurt by the fall. Much more deeply than we sometimes think.

Peut-être nous ne voudrions pas le penser, parceque la vérité (comme l'espérance...merci enfin M. Guillaume Apollinaire!) est toujours violente, et puis il pleure dans notre coeurs.

Well. In this short entry Im quite sure I have broken every french grammar rule in existance, so I must be off. Im making myself a cup of tea and the kettle is shreiking from the kitchen.

First of all: I am tired. I am true of heart. And also: You are tired. You are true of heart.

So, I began looking through A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genuis--with all its arrogant insecurites, its pretentious self-conciousness, and most of all its disgusting brilliance--I realized again that it is exactly what I want. I love that book because it is the embodiment of what I want to be. I mean, I dont want to do the same things as Dave Eggers, I dont want to fall alseep while drunk, or have sex without condoms, and sometimes fall asleep having sex without condoms while drunk...but I do want to be simply, obviously, effortlessly, arrogantly, timidly, profound. In the deepest and fullest sense of paradox. A wonderful mix of definite purpose and lack of pragmatism. To be, unashamed, unabashed, certain and full of doubt, wonderfully afraid and exuberant, heartwrenching and hopeful--but beyond all--real. Honest to God and self real.
I think if I were compeletly honest with myself my real fear like I have told myself over and over with many tears and soggy pillows, is not being alone. I am not so much afraid of living alone as I am of not living at all. Not seeing everything I can, and doing everything in my power, and being someone genuine. I am afraid of death before life.
I have two years. Two years before these god-awful braces come off and I can smile pretty and speak without slurring once again. Two years to save money, and learn all I can, and then I am going away for awhile. I dont know where. Maybe California. Maybe France. Probably both. And I am living. Whether or not I have someone else to go with me. Whether or not my family disapproves. I am tired of being afraid of not living up to other people's expectations of me, I am tired of being incapacitated by lonliness.

So there you have it.

"He that hath the steerage of my course, direct my sail. Onward lusty gentlemen!"

Dont read this, its depressing as hell.

Number of times I checked the mailbox today: 5
Number of times I cursed the mailbox for being empty: 6
Number of minutes stood outside in the rain: 13
Number of hysterical fits of craptasticness: 3
Number of emails, phone calls, or comments today: 0
Number of times I silently hated myself: innumerable.

Today sucks. I feel awful. Im beyond tired. Beyond sick. Beyond frustrated and depressed and angry. I just feel exhausted and awful. I dont even care anymore.

What good is it living in the most blessed country in the world if you feel so awful so much? I would rather live in shit than feel like it.

Im done with feeling like this. I just want to feel ok, but it seems like I cant. As soon as I manage to level off and be ok with things it seems like I fall further back.

All my rantings and previous complaints about the sucktasticness that is my life right now are only amplified by the fact that due to the freaking huge metal bars in my mouth I cant talk at all really, at least without it hurting or sounding half retarded and unintelligable. This means that not only can I not teach at church the 3 times a week that I am scheduled for, but I am not going to impress any employers sounding like I should be that one kid's sister from the Goonies. So my stress meter bars that indicate fear of disappointing others and frustration from not haveing any money have gone way past red into another dimension's color scheme.

I know things will get better. I do. They have to. But Im just so tired of things getting better only to soon thereafter feel worse than ever. I havent lost hope, Im just tired of it. Im tired of everything.

Whats worse is that this is compounding. I feel so crappy I cant make myself get anything done, and then I feel bad about not being productive, and it goes on and on and gets worse and worse.

I never wanted this to be a whiney sad blog like my others. I wanted it to be from my heart, (hence My Heart Exploding Words) I wanted it to be full of love and hope--but its become painfully obvious that my heart is not full of that. Not at this point in my life at least. Im trying to fill it with that, I want to.

Well. Time to check the mailbox again.

Ye Olde Nouvelle Blogge Entry Pour Au'jourd Hui.

...that title takes talent...or something abnormal.

Favorite Things of the Moment:

• Juicebags
• The French Pod Class avec M. Sebastien Babolat
• The Cornfields that surround my house that are perfect for 4wheeling in.
• Picking out where we are going for our mini-vacation this winter. (England is temporarily post-poned due to scheduling conflicts...probably this summer instead)
• Knowing how to say: Volgio averlo adesso, wench!
  

Today was yet another beautiful day. Ended up going to the Ohio Renaissance Festival, which was interesting enough by itself, but also my Grandpa brought over his new 4wheeler he bought today and we had fun testing it out. I have scratchmarks across my face and arms from trees and briars, and I picked out pine needles from hair for a good twenty minutes. Plus I got to talk to two of my most beloved people via cell phone today, which always makes everything a little better. Overall, it was glorious.

Tomorrow morning looms dark on the horizon, however. I am still at a loss for what to teach for sunday school. Im thinking maybe I will start the "Why, Us?" series that I have been working on, or thinking about recently (thank you Shane Claiborne, Donald Miller, and Rob Bell!). When something horrible happens, when we are faced with injustice, poverty, hatred, racism, violence--so often we look around and ask "Why, God? Why would God allow this to happen?" As Christians, we are called to follow Jesus' example, and to be like John the Baptist-- pointing to Jesus and God with everything we are. We are to die to ourselves and become new in the body of Christ, being his hands and feet in this world. So "Why, Us?" Why do we allow suffering and needs to be unmet, why do we allow violence and hatred to consume our world, the creation that God has given to us to take care of? Not Why, God, but Why, Us. (as an interesting aside, at the festival they had a museum of medevial torture devices, some of the worst stuff you've ever heard of...and who put it to use the most...yeah...thats right. The Church.) We are the ones who are failing with our negligence, not God. What does it mean to be born again into a family where every five seconds a child dies of hunger? How do we follow Jesus in humble servitude in a world ravaged by selfishness and greed? Why, Us? What are we going to do about it?

We also have COGTIME, as I like to call it, where we go through the Bible and figure out what we believe as a denomination, what we believe is biblical and true. Last week we covered John 1:1-2. We might continue with the "difficult texts" theme tomorrow. Hopefully it will be nice outside and we can have hippie time under the tree again. I like that. Class rooms are so confining and overly airconditioned.

Tomorrow is going to be sort of a work day for me, catching up on things that I've been putting off or forgotten. I've been working on a few paintings that I would like to finish before my fortieth birthday, and if I dont start now it might not happen. I also need to sit down and figure out what my schedule looks like for the next month or so. Everytime my phone rings Im terrified that its someone about to yell at me because I've missed a meeting, or forgotten an event that I was in charge of, or slept through an appointment or something. It will be good to not have to worry about that so much.

Sometimes the best place to be is lost.

Im lost. I think thats ok. It means Im going somewhere.

So often I think only of arriving at a destination, of getting there. I long for a teleporter to illiminate the hassle and time of getting to where Im going. Dont get me wrong, I love driving, I love traveling, I love looking and seeing things, and taking back roads and getting lost and learning something new, going somewhere different. But I forget about that sometimes.

Lately I notice that I've been applying my "just get there already" urgency to life. I just want to figure things out, I want to get to wherever Im going already--Im tired of waiting, of being lost and not having a map to figure things out.

But all life is, is getting there, isnt it? All it is, is a journey. (whoa...and I didnt even smoke any pot to come to that conlusion...deep...) I dont think I will ever get there--unless there is dead, and Im not going to rush that. Im going somewhere I know, because Im lost. And I like that. I dont know how to get to where Im going, but at least Im moving. I realise that right now I'm frustrated, and tired and just want to metaphorically find the damn hotel already--but its preparing me for the next step of my journey.

So I guess Im feeling pretty good about today. I went to Sonic and got a Berry Limeade. Small things like that make me immensely happy. My husband is going to have it easy, hahaha...well, in one way at least.

So yes. Tomorrow is Saturday and it is bright and alive and full of potential. I wonder what we shall do with it?