Alone...or am I?

Silence. In this moment I feel panic. I feel small. I see faceless crowds. I reach for my phone, feeling the need to text someone, anyone. I have the constant need to feel connected.

And then I remember.

"My Grace is sufficient for you. My power is made perfect in your weakness." 2 Cor 12:9a

I put my phone down. I listen again. I hear the rustling of autumn trees. A bird begins trilling and chirping. There's traffic in the distance. I hear more than just people's voices--three girls are talking about their weekend, two businessmen are discussing private student loan options, and a mixed group is trying to quiz each other before the next hour. They are individual people. It's ok that they don't know me. The sun is shining and warming my shoulders. The breeze blows my hair. I see mountains in the distance.

"Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weakness so that Christ's power may rest on me." 2 Cor 12:9b

I take this moment to stop, quiet my mind, and talk to God. He made me. He allows every circumstance. Instead of changing those circumstances, He teaches me through them. The circumstance I'm in right now? Nothing horrible actually-- just loneliness. And it's not for lack of people. It's the addiction I have to constant attention.

Guess what God's teaching me? It's not all about me. It's ok to play a background scene, or be a supportive friend, or do the kind thing and say no to a guy. I don't always need to be the director or the talent. I can be just as at peace in God's grace to be alone as I can be at peace to forge ahead into this unknown future.

In the end, I trust His plan. I don't want to. But I choose to.

Love, Hate, and War

I have often been accused of being argumentative, and out-spoken... perhaps sometimes a little cynical and sarcastic. My childhood was a bitterly surpressed one, so it's no wonder that I have grown to realize that if I am to have a place in the world as the youngest sibling of my family, I must fight for it. My family knows even that statement is sarcastic, so it's no wonder that those closest to me consider me a great burden.

I believe my greatest conflict with debating comes because I know I'm right, but I can prove myself wrong. My brother-in-law Eric just read that statement over my shoulder, and spit in my hot-chocolate with his laughter. Let me explain that statement. (Now he's trying to attest to his innocence, and he says I'm not being very nice right now.) I have discovered that any discussion I come upon can have many answers (duh), and that the more one studies an issue, the more gray one can observe amidst the black and white. Best yet, I know this sounds wierd, but one can honestly take an opinion and just take the opposing view and go at it. It's kind of fun, and one finds the weaknesses in their own arguments. Many people (including myself) often want to take an adament position on issues, and it does feel good to be able to take a stand and fight for all your worth for that position. But any of us can find moments where we are confused when we defend our positions, because there are just many ways to look at an issue.

That's just something I noticed recently, so in a way that's a defense against being called argumentative, but in reality it's more just an observation.

I greatly appreciate those of you who contacted me by email, and by letter to express interest in my graduation. The ceremony actually went greater than I ever expected it could be except that my grandmother fell and went to the emergency room. Otherwise, it was so exciting! I was so touched by those who made such a big deal of the affair, and I was overcome when I looked to the back of the auditorium and saw one of my very own customers, Antony, sitting in our little church pews! Grace was there, too (with 25 dark red roses), and my family, and so many long-time friends and... wow I was just so overwhelmed with love for the world.

Then today, I was back at PotBelly, totally out of my element, and I hated the world. Heh, thus goes the endless cycle of love, hate, and war. Makes life more interesting, no? I figure, I don't aim for perfection, because I'd much rather feel something real and make the most of it. Wow, that was so profound. I do feel quite old and mature now that I've walked the magical aisle. La, the stages we go through in life. On that note... I will be leaving you to your summery evenings and hoping you the greatest peace in your life.

Fascinating Friday Learning Experiences

I'm presently drinking sugar-free hot chocolate. Imagine the ecstatic face that I'm making as a result. The drink was my brother's master-piece creation. How can I not like it?

Anyways, so Happy Friday!! Today dawned brightly, full of fresh possibilites, and endless opportunities. (At least if a customer dares ask me how my day is going, that is what I say.) I have so many interests. It keeps life from getting bland and predictable. One of my many interests, is an interest in languages. Grace, my Korean boss, accuses me of being a linguist with something akin to pride and fear. She told my German friend that, 'withen Andilea, no keeping secrets. She knowing.' Ahaha, I could not hold the laughter in. What irony! Grace and I often have misunderstandings when speaking English, but when I listen carefully and spew back a couple of her Korean words, she says I 'scaring her' because I understand what she's saying. That makes me smirk. I tease that there's a nymph between us, taking her English words and distorting them before they get to me. After all, any place you work with humans, there will be misunderstandings. It has gotten especially amusing at times like when Grace ordered, "Getting Mariana sauce, sweetie." And I then set about looking for Banana sauce in a state of confusion.

There is a woman named Kathy who gets a large coffee every morning at work, and over time we have begun greeting each other in German. German is her first language (although lost since childhood), and with my few Pimsleur-memorized phrases, we are slowly building up our German vocabulary. Anyways, I like Kathy. If any of you, my dearest readers, have ever had a customer service job, you know that one of the most refreshing things about customer service is having a regular customer with whom you lose the formalities and actually talk human. Kathy is one such down-to-earth person who probably has a world of knowledge beyond me, but slows down every morning to laugh at herself in German and swap a few simple phrases with me. There's something triumphant in our smiles when we finish flourishing our limited German vocabulary.
"Gutentag!" Hello!
"Eh, Gutenmorgen!" Eh, Good morning!
"Ve guets?" How's it going?
"Es guet mia gut, danke. Unt ze?" It goes to me well. And you?
"Zia gut, danke." Very good, thank you.
Today our new phrase was, "Ist Fritag!" It's Friday!
"Ist Freelich Fritag!" It's Happy Friday!
I totally butchered the spelling there, but you get the idea. My other customers look on with a mixture of awe and apprehension, but she and I are often too wrapped up in self-satisfaction to notice. Mornings with Kathy have convinced me that sometimes some of the simplest accomplishments in life are the sweetest. Anyways, I love languages. That's just something you didn't know about me.

I feel like sighing. Politics are boring me right now. I thought that two-faced baby from India was altogether fascinating, though. A bit freaky, but intriguing. Poor little thing. Yet she probably doesn't even know what she has been born into. How can one escape such a fate? Where one face would smile on being an Indian goddess, would the other face be berated by the glare of the spectators' spot-light? You wonder if she is one soul, or two in one body. And what would it be like to see out of both sides of your head? Pretty awesome, I would imagine! Although, if I had been born with two faces I would probably have accepted double sight by now because I would have never known anything different. I can't imagine having two faces, though. But hey, twice the smile, twice the talking! At that, my brother would groan proffusely, I am without doubt. When I mentioned all of this phenomenon to my mother, she sniffed, "I already know plenty of two-faced people." I laughed. Good point.

I am sighing now. It's kind of a warped sigh/yawn. Time to sign out, turn the covers, and click out the light. Tomorrow's my second day at PotBelly! Wish me fascinating learning experiences! G'Night.

Brilliant Tuesday Concepts

Right now I am sitting at my computer, glaring holes into the screen. My brother is watching a loud film (where someone with amnesia is constantly having loud 'flashbacks') and rustling bags of 'sugar-free' candy. About 5 minutes ago he happened to look over at his dormant little sister and made a face. "Why are there Q-tips sticking out of your ears?" See, that's the thing about men that I've learned. They see the surface problem and think 'uh, how wierd'. But they don't understand that what they see is just a symptom of the real problem. In fact, I can't concentrate on writing this blog while all of his noise is echoing about. So I am muting out that noise, while also cleaning out my ears. It serves a dual purpose, that on first glance, most men would not pick up on.

Earlier this afternoon, I was lounging blissfully in my lazyboy, meditating on school, when a rather profound concept hit me. What people know the most about, they want to talk the most about. Simple enough, but often forgotten. Really, if one gets this concept down, one is helped immensely when trying to understand people. Think about it. Why else do so many people love to talk about themselves at first opportunity? Why does someone knowledgeable about nutrition tend to sneak a nutritional fact into every meal-time? Why do writers love to go to writers conferences and talk to other writers about their writing? I told this to the woman from which I off-springed from and she said, "So what do you like to talk about?"
I had to think about that. Hmm. I replied, "I guess I like to talk about everything. I have alot of interests in alot of things. I like to hear what alot of people have to say. I like to soak up as much knowledge as possible."
"So does that mean you know it all?" My mother's brow furrowed. "Andria, you need to watch how you come across."
I laughed with delight. People pleasure in accusing me of being a know-it-all, but I've found that I'm most often accused only when I insert an opinion that didn't promote their own knowledge. Hah, see it's all in how you look at it. I don't feel a need to defend myself. I'm pleased that I don't really know it all, because that leaves me room for learning more brilliant things in this old life I am presently subjected to.

Another thing I realized starkly tonight, is that I really appreciate good customer service. There is such a thing as a 'friendly atmosphere'. I've walked into some department stores, and I feel immediately like the employees there are telling me with their eyes, "Leave. Make my job easier and leeeeave." Tonight I experienced such at the TJ Max department store. Some kids about my age were wearing little TJ Max shirts and were putting clothes on racks at the rate of molasses. When I went to the fitting room, accusing glittery eyes flitted over me and a terse voice said, "Put the clothes on the rack." The girl then counted the clothes, and I felt instantly like I was being searched for some indescrepancy. When there was no indescrepancy found she handed me a number briskly and then went back to sitting in her roller chair and staring at her long fingernails. I was like 'okay?', but said 'Thank you' politely. She grunted. I felt like grunting back, but refrained. I just didn't get it. She could have at least pretended to be nice. I felt like I was in an environment that did not want me, the customer, to enjoy liesurely bargain shopping. It was TJ Max's good fortune that I found something half-way agreeable and decided to purchase it. I walked to the counter and the boss of the employed TJ Max children smiled at me somewhat like an obliging school-marm. "What can I do for you?" she asked crisply, and I felt it was pretty obvious that I was in line because I wanted to purchase something. I put some pants on the counter and still could not shake this feeling that I was a bother at that counter. It was so wierd. It wasn't until I donated a dollar to 'autism' that she actually smiled at me and seemed sincere in helping me. Walking into places like that, I am just so thankful for fun places like PotBelly and Grace's where I can have fun doing work and can actually delight in seeing customers walk into my restaurants. But maybe it's all different at clothing stores. I suppose no regulars go to Kohls to get clothes every morning before they head off to work. That's why I love food stores. I remember as a child when I would stay home 'sick' from kindergarten. My mom would read Berenstein bears books to me, I would watch 'Whinnie the Pooh', and then if macaroni and cheese wasn't on the menu, my mother would take me out to McDonalds for lunch. That was extremely exciting for me, and my mother warned that I shouldn't tell my brother or he would get jealous. Of course, I waited a few days, and then got mad at my brother for something and told him in anticipation of that jealousy. La, such a wicked child. But even in all that wickedness, I found pure unadultrated delight in getting a simple chicken mcnuggets, fries, and coke. Food is exciting; temperal, but then again - all pleasure is. That decides it. My place is among food.

What brilliance I stumble on while I am writing to you! What would I do without words, people, food, Q-tips and the ability to love...

La... What a beeootiful Saturday... Live, Live, Live

I'm going to free-write here, so you (my dear readers) are well-warned. Today I was very ambitious! I started a second job today! Yay- first days! I love first days. Initially on first days I always feel apprehensive, and I have big bad thoughts about all these things that could go wrong. Predictably, I felt that way today - being my first day and all. But there's something awesome about first days. One doesn't have to be afraid to fail. If one does fail, one can smile demurely and whisper, "Tis my first day. Do accept my pardons." That sounds wierd, but picture me saying it and it'll be okay.

My new job is at Potbelly (a Sandwich-with-the-works store). I worked all day today before I finally had my first official Potbelly Sandwich. It felt funny because I was garbed in this huge Potbelly t-shirt and had a Potbelly visor, but I didn't even know where to stand in line. The lady who helped me - my new coworker! - was amply-sized and had a no-nonsense face. She was one of the many new co-workers I was to meet. When I first saw her, I thought, "Oh dear, she's going to take an instant dislike to me." At first she ignored me and I felt quite non-existent. But then half-way through my day, she looked at me sharply and said, "Have you been checking the bathroom every 30 minutes?" I nodded responsibly and said, "12:00, 12:30 and we're just coming up on 1:00 here." She smiled and said, "I knew I was going to like you the minute I saw you." I felt pleased but did not venture to tell her what I had thought when I first saw her.

My boss warned me that "first days are never glamorous". I nodded, took that with a grain of salt, and set about my tasks with a shy fervor. Basically, after going through orientation and getting the 'official tour' of the place, I was assigned to keep people's tables clean, sweep the floors, sanitize baskets and trays, take peoples' trash, and check the bathrooms every 30 minutes for total toilet-paper efficiency. They called the position a 'fronter', and I was the 'fronter associate' of the day. When I told my friend Kim that, she said, "Oh, so you're like a bus-boy." Groan - but it made me laugh and I clarified, "I'm the best bus-woman around."

Anyways, so I now have two jobs. That's kinda cool. I was warned by my Potbelly boss that I was not allowed to take Potbelly secrets and share them with Grace at my other job. Hahaha, I wanted to laugh. I couldn't steal secrets even if I wanted to. I'm one of those who just knows good food when I taste it. And today, I had some mighty good sandwich food. My mom's a southern cook -- quite good, in fact. Grace is a Korean cook -- extremely good and in some cases just downright unique. Then, to top it all off, I'm a pretty good cook myself if I'm allowed to say so. I make a mean batch of Ramen noodles and baked potatoes. Watch out, future hubby.

It's funny because my boss thought I was married for the majority of my orientation. I thought it was wierd because he kept referring to my 'hubby' and my 'significant other' and then I realized that I would have to clarify my state of singleness or I would be introduced to my coworkers as "Mrs. Andria so-and-so..." La, that seems so laughable.

Anyways, so I was exhausted after that first five-hour shift, but it was a new experience for me! I love learning new things! I can now ask people for trash with the utmost efficiency, and I can clean off tables in a sort of mesmerizing dance-like fury. La I'm laughing at myself. All week I've been so tired and I've just wanted to go to bed, and then suddenly it's like... hey, I'm living. This is life. Whoo! See, you gotta make it happen. Don't expect it to all come crawling to you. Live, live, live.

More later. Expect it, dear readers of mine.