Let's Find My Passion

I want to find something, love care desire throw myself into something, and then use that something to change the world! In other words, I need to find a passion, and it would be just wonderful if I can find it by the end of this month, or even better, the hour. So let's see:

Stuff I Want/Cure/Fight for in this World

• Slow down the regression, social decline, and just plain downhill of America and the rest of the world (how?)
• Cure childhood obesity and obesity in general (so that cures heart disease and other dreadful killers like that)
• Feed the starving children and people in Africa, China, Cambodia, and maybe even a couple blocks away.
• Show all the people with depression in this world how much God loves them, so much that He died for them, and that they do have hope.
• Exploit (?) all the secretly abusive parents, husbands, wives, children, etc out there.
• Dismantle McDonalds (which is the reason the world is coming to an end. seriously.)
• Stop abortion.
• On a smaller scale, I want to contribute to the rebirth of letter writing. And sonnets. And ballroom dancing. And traditional stuff like that.

Sigh, I don't feel anything yet. Man hidden passion thing, come to me! I shall continue my long-awaited search later.

I'm So Ridiculously Bored.

Things I Just Love

• The Ans >F<>D button on the calculator
• Watching the apple tree in my backyard go from ugly, wimpy bare to pink blossomy, cause-allergy flowers, to a huge leafy thing with wormy tennis ball apples
• Washing dishes with the window in clear view so I can watch the sunset
• Hot 2 hour showers.
• Rererereading Dreamers or Harry Potter on the coldest day of winter while eating a cookie in my bed
• An unexpected compliment
• NJSTAR.

I have lists and lists of Things I Love, Things I Enjoy, and Things that Make Me Happy scribbled all over my AP Euro notebook. Because Euro is so miserable that I had to write happy lists to keep me awake. Like I am right now; I'm so terribly bored. I guess I'll just...sleep.

Kill That Darn Spider, or No?

There's a spider on my wall, and I don't have the desire or guts to kill it. But now I'm imagining spider babies, and maybe I'll change my mind.

I spent two and a half hours at the library by myself yesterday. Honestly, it was kind of nice, minus the hour I spent looking in the dreadful nonfiction section for books about medieval medical practices and Andreas Vesalius. Ew. There was a huge booksale going on in the back too. I browsed for another hour, and after careful consideration, bought five books for $2. Yeah, they weren't new, but that must have been the best bargain of my life. Then I carried, more like balanced, those 5 books + 9 library books outside, sat under a tree, called a couple people, and read The C Student's Guide to Success. My afternoon at the library lol. It's blissful to spend time with yourself.

Is it possible to feel sad, mad, angry, hurt, foolish, anxious, nervous, terrified, relieved, anticipatory, and like you want to tear out your hair at the same time?

I think you can.

They have to invent a word for that feeling because it gets kind of tedious to explain.

Magic, Irritability, and Alice

TingyMoii: dude i feel like i havent seen you for a long time

Sadly, I get that a lot. Magical disappearing me, haha.

I feel terribly irritable. I don't know why. Maybe it's bottled-up emotions that I am unaware of. Mrs. Carlson says the reason old Chinese ladies are so crabby all the time is because when they were younger, they had to repress their anger and hurt. Then when they're older, they tend to like let it all out at once. By yelling and arguing about everything. My gramma's kind of like that...then I wonder what kind of childhood she had then.

And I just received some sad news. I found out that Alice died a couple days ago...from old age. So sad though. Alice is one our donut shop's long-time customers. She came almost everyday, usually in the afternoons, with her husband Earl. They were old. Like nearing 100 years old. As far as marriages and relationships go, their's was one that I want to have. They had been married around 70 years. Sometimes I go to the donut shop in the afternoons; in fact, I saw them together just before spring break, and they would be holding hands on their way into the shop. And then again, they're so old, maybe they needed to lean on each other for support. But either way, it just touches me to see that love really can last that long. I mean, seriously. 70 years and still holding hands? Wow. And I was a firsthand witness. Lucky huh. God bless that family.

"Because of God's great love, we are not consumed because His compassions never fail." Lamentations 3:22

I guess I'm not that irritable anymore.

Hm What To Do With a Blog...

Haha. I just realized I made a blog in like December. I wonder why. It's empty. Just proves how utterly boring and pathetic I am. No wait, I shall be uplifting and cheerful! Because I was telling Jasmine about how emo and complaining-y our, well at least my, long-time-ago diary entries were...and still are. So from now on, I will try to be less complaining-y and more...cheerful?...in writing, I mean. By the way, Jasmine is one inspirational person. I make blog so I can comment on her very awesome one!

Anyway, I don't know what else to say, so I'll blog about my other blog haha. I've been journaling for the past...well, since 7th grade. I have very beautiful spiral 70-page notebooks for each year, so I guess I'm on my 5th one. And okay, they are falling apart and look horrible (I decorated the last 2 with stickers though!), and I misplaced a couple of them because I scattered them around the house. Because I thought that would increase the chances of Ashley not reading them. But I should go retrieve my journals now, since she realized they are not worth reading. She said not only is my handwriting unbearable, but my life is also unbearably boring. Even so, I'm glad I kept at the journal. It's nice to have a reference book for your life. Like the other week, when we had our sophomore chapel, I reread my journal entries about the 8th and freshmen chapel and compared. That was nice. Then again, most of the time when I reread my journals, I think I'd rather burn them. But burn my precious, priceless memories 0_0! I think not. So instead, when I reread them, I'll slap my head with my hand, stick them back in the closet, bookshelf, under the bed where they belong, and vow not to read them again until I'm 40.

I encourage everyone to journal.