homeless.

Is the feeling of inadequacy the root of all of our problems? Why do we keep doing the things that we know will hurt us? Is it possible to think independently of society? Are all great artists tortured? If he loves her romantically and she loves him platonically, does her heart break any less when they're not speaking? Is it possible to be both happy and single for the rest of your life? Will I ever know everything there is to know about myself? Is life easier if you are morally bankrupt? Is love addictive? Is hatred addictive? Can humility be taught? If I work at it hard enough, will I ever be a good person? Are the only honest words I say the ones that I say without thinking? Is it possible to stop thinking too much? Is it possible to stop loving too much? Is it possible to rebuild what I have destroyed?

They say that home is where the heart is.

To My Samson

Some advice...

... from a gal who knows she still has a lot to learn, but at least she has this much figured out.

Don't take life too seriously. Make an effort to be responsible, but remember to have fun with it.

Learn to play a musical instrument. Even if it's just the spoons. (And let's be honest, knowing how to play spoons would be awesome.)

Try new things. Especially the things you don't think you'd like.

Read a book. Or two. Or twenty. Picture books and comic books are absolutely acceptable.

Spend an hour outside every day. Even in the winter. Have a snowball fight.

Eat dessert for breakfast. The term "breakfast of champions" doesn't exist for nothing.

Smile.

That thing that you're nervous about doing? Don't think about it. Just do it. If it doesn't work out, then so be it! At least you don't have to worry about it anymore.

Embrace your inner nerd. Because it makes life more fun.

Disregard cable. Acquire Netflix. Avoid that "there's nothing on TV, so why am I still sitting here and watching old South Park reruns?" feeling and watch something good. Or, you know, go outside.

Take a road trip. Even if it's just a weekend trip to the nearest city. Make friends who live in other states and sleep on their couches. Plan a big one and save up so you'll actually do it. Bring a camera. Bring a journal. Bring your friends. And snacks for the car ride, of course.

Before you go to Target, the mall, or any furniture or clothing store, check Goodwill first. And take all the money you just saved and put it in your road trip fund.

Talk to strangers. Seriously. All the time. Start a conversation with your waitress. Tell a bad joke to that looks-like-he-could-be-cool guy in your literature class. Geek out about music to the random dude wearing a Radiohead shirt. Ask the girl at the coffee shop if she knows of any fun things to do around town.

Dance to that song that's stuck in your head when no one is looking. And then stop abruptly and act serious before you walk into a room full of people. Why? Because it's fun, and the prospect of getting caught is both terrifying and hilarious.

Take a walk around your neighborhood. When's the last time you really looked at all the things that surround your home?

Do nice things for people. Because why not?

Watch Good Will Hunting. And if it doesn't change your life in some small way, you're not doing it right.

Learn a little about everything. Knowledge is power. But more importantly, perspective is the key to using knowledge effectively.

Don't be afraid to embarrass yourself. Because really, it's probably not as big of a deal as you think it is.

Don't lie. Because what's the point of lying? Note: this does not mean you shouldn't be tactful in social situations.

Live alone. For at least a couple months, but preferably a whole year or more. You'll learn things about yourself that you never knew. You'll be able to walk around in your underwear. You'll never wonder who used the last of the milk (thus preventing you from eating your freshly-poured bowl of cereal).

Be happy. You might try to say, "you can't just be happy," but you're wrong. Think happy thoughts. Surround yourself with people who make you happy, and get rid of the people who don't. Logic your way out of emotionally overwhelming situations. Eat well. Get enough sleep. Wake up and say, "today is going to be awesome," and make your day awesome. Do the things you love. Smile for no reason. It's that easy.

Twentysomething

We are at a place in our lives where we're all just trying to figure things out. We're past the stage of total structure, with school and parents and societal expectations dictating our lives. We've come to a point where we can afford to make mistakes and sort of stumble through our own murky ideas of what it means to be happy and alive and successful.

Does success mean proving yourself by moving to a new city and "making it" there? Or does it mean finally doing what you love? Is happiness measured in the new things you discover about the world, or by the realizations you have about all the good things you already have in your own world? Or is it both?

Should we feel like failures for not diving in to the grand adventure that is impoverished life in the big city, or should we feel enlightened for recognizing that what we need right now is right here, and that the big city can wait?

Should we work long, hard hours trying to save up for a better quality of life, or should we take long, meaningful walks trying to discover a better quality of being?

We are all sort of meandering through fields of thought and indecision, hoping that something that "feels right" will jump out at us. But what about all the "what ifs" and "maybe I should haves" hiding in the grass, waiting to trip us up and bite at our ankles?

We find comfort in the fact that we are all in this together. Our paths will cross and uncross, and sometimes we will find ourselves on the same road, each of us taking turns leading the way.

But we have more than just the questions. We have youth and energy and potential. We have ideas-- some good, some laughably bad. We have music, literature, and art. We have long discussions about life and where we're going (and where we've been). We still get excited about things like Smash Bros Night and pizza for breakfast, and we are starting to learn the value of family and what it means to be responsible.

We've dreamed and dreamed and dreamed, and sometimes those dreams have come true. Sometimes they have changed or evolved or dissolved completely. And sometimes they have gone away and come back. Sometimes we go away and come back-- but this time stronger and wiser than before.

We make Pokemon references and play drunk games of Risk, but we always wake up on time to nail that job interview in the morning. We consider Kraft Macaroni and Cheese a meal, but sometimes we break out the pots and pans and make stir fry.

We start looking forward to the little things: our first breakfast in a new apartment, late night discussions about art in 24 hour coffee shops, sleeping in on the weekends. We make lists of all the things we need to do: weekend road trips, movies to watch, that-one-thing-that-you've-been-meaning-to-do-but-just-haven't-gotten-around-to-it-yet.

We tell each other bad jokes and learn to accept people we might not have accepted before. We do nice things for our friends because we want to. And some days we wake up and decide to blow all our money on video games and a lifetime supply of ramen noodles. 

We're in the happy place between childhood and adulthood, where we can still have fun but we have learned to appreciate the fun we're having.

If you had asked me a few years ago where I would be right now, I would not have predicted my current situation. And despite all that has changed, I have never felt more at peace with myself. I used to focus on whatever comes next, but I'm slowly starting to realize that what's happening now is just as important, just as real, and just as wonderful. To steal from an old cliche, it's not always about where you're going, but how you got there. And I'm getting there my own way, surrounded by the best company I could ever hope for.

Giving Thanks.

I have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. It's good to be at a point in my life where I feel this lucky.

First, there are the basic things. I'm thankful to have a roof over my head and food to eat. A lot of people take these things for granted, but I've known what it's like not to have either of those things. I'm thankful to have a job, and especially thankful to have a job that I enjoy with good people to work with. 

I am thankful for what little family I have, and that even though my mom is overseas I still get to spend Thanksgiving with my little sister.

I am thankful to have good friends that I get to see all the time and who enjoy spending time with me as much as I enjoy spending time with them. I'm thankful for pen pals, drawing buddies, co-workers, theatre friends, old friends, new friends, and all my friendly acquaintances. I'm thankful for my goofy, neurotic, charming boyfriend. 

I'm thankful for all that I have been through this year and all that I have discovered about myself.

I'm thankful for pumpkin pie, and Christmas music, and the prospect of spending cold days cuddling by the fire. I'm thankful for 24 hour coffee shops and Walmart adventures. I'm thankful for my cat, for compressed charcoal, and for my car that continues to bring me everywhere without completely falling apart.

And I'm thankful for anyone taking the time to read this right now. You are truly wonderful.

the little things.

The second sip of a good beer that you've never tried before.

Being naturally good at something completely useless.

Walking one block home at 4am after a night of nerding out.

That one time a day that you're able to breathe through your nose in the middle of a bad cold.

Starting a new job and already knowing somebody who works there.

Eating an entire bag of apples.

Instafriends.

The feel of sheets on bare skin.

Late night, aimless conversations.

The right level of drunk.

Hugging people I just met.

Wearing complimentary colors.

Being outwitted by someone who won't rub it in.

Finding out that that-movie-I-haven't-seen-yet-but-really-should is on Netflix.

When people forget that I am younger than they are.

Chocolate milk.

Postcards.

Rewatching the best episodes of a favorite TV show.

Charcoal on my hands after drawing.

Changing out of work clothes.

Unexpected sources of inspiration.

Getting a quiet person to smile.

Looking through photographs.

Getting it right the first time.

Everything in its right place.

I just turned twenty years old. (For those of you who don't know, that's very young.) This is sort of an unpredictable time in my life, but I don't think I've ever been so happy or certain or at ease.

This year has been quite a year for me. I started off in a state of absolute disarray. I was fresh out of a three year relationship. I was caught up in the excitement of being in a show, being young, and being irresponsible. For the first time in what felt like forever, I had no one to hold me accountable for what I did. It was almost Portland all over again: I was busy, I was reckless, and I was absolutely miserable.

I won't say that nothing good came out of that period of time, because almost the opposite is true. Once I began to realize what I was doing, it really woke me up to a lot of things that I had been avoiding for months and years and maybe a whole lifetime. I've always been proud of being mature for my age, but that period of time brought me down to a level that I hadn't been to since I moved out of my house when I was fifteen. The foundation on which I'd built my life had absolutely crumbled away and I was left to try to rebuild with my hands something that I'd always had the tools for before. There was no more fixing up leaky pipes and touching up chipped paint; it was an absolute demolition. 

With Spring came the panic and realization that the path I was on was selfish, self-destructive, and so far from who I was and what I wanted that I could hardly recognize myself sometimes. I started to try to undo all that I'd done in the previous months. I began to grasp the fact that I had absolutely no idea what I wanted anymore. I had no direction, so I went in every direction at once, bouncing off the walls of frustration, insecurity, guilt, and denial. I was a horrible friend. I was a horrible family member. I was horrible to myself. But I was determined to try anything I could to try to find the right path. And with that goal firmly in my grasp, I trudged forward into the early summer months.

Being out of school finally brought me down from the manic state that I was in. I didn't have a place of my own, so I felt sort of adrift... but I felt okay. I saw almost no one, and I made almost no plans. I drove home to Rochester more times than I care to think about, but the long drives gave me the time I needed to really evaluate myself and my life and where I wanted to be. I started to think about the things that made me happy and the things that didn't... the things that were important to me, and the things that weren't. I learned about letting go and about investing in things that are worth it.

But it wasn't until the very end of summer that it all came together. It took the thought of going back to school and doing something that I never wanted to do to begin with. It took a friend that I'd mistreated moving away and me realizing how badly I'd messed up. It took a serious talk with Nana about avoidance and communication. And it took seeing too much of myself in a guy who, at 22 years old, was too wrapped up in himself to take responsibility for himself and his actions.

So here I am. I'm moving forward. I'm rebuilding bridges. I'm working hard, I'm not limiting my choices, and I'm taking life as it comes. I know what I want, and I know what I need, and I know what I need to work on. I'm doing what makes me happy.

And it feels wonderful.