Okay, I'm supposed to post eight random things about myself. Are you ready for this?
1. The only food I crave when I'm in Spain that I can't get here is chicken parmesan subs.
2. Before the last three new Harry Potters have come out, I've re-read the entire series of them, and I plan on doing it again before the last one!
3. When I was little I did baton-cheerleading lessons. I still have my trophy.
4. My favorite drink is unsweetened iced tea.
5. I'm gonna be a bridesmaid in two weddings in the next year- the first two weddings of friends my age.
6. I tried to patent and invention I made and it almost worked. I tried to patent it under new inventions and I should have patented it under improvements on older inventions. I could have redone it but patenting things is expensive, even genious things.
7. I learned to say my alphabet by the time I was 18 months old. I was a child prodegy but stuff caught up in the end and now I'm the same as everybody else.
8. Someday I want to own a pub, live on a houseboat, fly planes, be a missionary in a closed Muslim country, and own a hostel for homeless people. These don't all have to happen at the same time, but I'll let you know as I cross them off my list.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Bad Day
Disclaimer: This is all part of my new trying-to-be-open-and-honest phase and stop-trying-to-look-sane attitude, so if fury an insanity scare you, skip the following:
I am having a bad day today. I was supposed to go to the beach but God made it clear to me he doesn't want me there through enough ways that I'm not there right now. I feel like a whiny five year old who's about to throw a tantrum because things really aren't going my way lately. Honestly, I feel like I've earned the right to throw a tantrum and that slamming a door or two right now would be completely justified.
And God doesn't seem to want to just tell me what's going on lately. It's like he has this "plan" and he won't share every detail with me. What the heck.
I found out today one of my middle school youth pastors has two months to live and his wife is pregnant with their third baby that is due in a month. That's insane. It's also not fair. It kind of makes me feel like a jerk that I am annoyed that I don't have the money to go to the beach. Seeing things in perspective, I don't have the right to be annoyed about anything ever, which makes me feel like what I'm feeling is stupid which makes it worse.
I didn't really talk about this at all when it happened, but last summer a good friend of mine died. He was 17, my sister's age. I was good friends with his brother- he was the cutest kid. I'm still really upset that he died, and I still haven't really processed that.
I'm going on month 13 of no crying. That's frustrating too because I feel like most of what's happening right now in life is cry-worthy and the fact that I haven't wept over any of it makes me feel calloused and more of a jerk. I feel like if I start crying about stuff I'll open the proverbial floodgates and be a basketcase for about a month. Today and tomorrow were supposed to be days where I let these things just sink in and sit and let the last couple of months catch up with me- I don't think that's actually gonna happen.
I'm also really arbitrarily angry at my dad lately. If there was one time in my whole life that I need him to come through it's right now. And a word out there to all fathers or future fathers or even uncles: If you let your daughter graduate highschool without having convinced her that you think she is the most beautiful creature on earth, you have failed. She'll never think she's beautiful and she'll never believe any guy that tells her she is regardless of whether she is or not. That is your job- that's what fathers are supposed to do. So, if I find out any of your daughters get screwed up because you were a jerk, I'm coming after you.
My dad also thinks it's appropriate lately to call my mom and get her to talk him out of committing suicide. He called her the other day and told her he's going swimming in the Long Island Sound and he might try to just swim to Connecticut. I told her to tell him to swallow his I.D. so they'll know who he is when they find his body. This is the way the Stembokases handle their crap. We let things get so overwhelming that we just throw up our hands and go, I need to go to the beach. Only I wasn't going to swim away. As alarming as it is that my dad threatens to drive off bridges because nobody loves him, none of us take him seriously because he's never followed through with anything in his life; which is also another Stembokas trait that I have inherited, which is also another point of frustration. I have all these plans and aspirations and goals, some of which I've had since middle school, that I've never accomplished and I've gotten to the point where I now expect that anything I set out to do wont happen. I can only accomplish impulsive rash things that I decide to do in two seconds. But if I decide to do it and it takes longer than a day to accomplish, forget about it. Forget about steps or small goals or long processes. I don't have the stamina or the patience to see anything through. Marriage and childrearing should be interesting.
I think that's all for today folks...
Sorry all my blog posts have been whiney and all about me lately, but it's my blog so I'll write what I want.
I am having a bad day today. I was supposed to go to the beach but God made it clear to me he doesn't want me there through enough ways that I'm not there right now. I feel like a whiny five year old who's about to throw a tantrum because things really aren't going my way lately. Honestly, I feel like I've earned the right to throw a tantrum and that slamming a door or two right now would be completely justified.
And God doesn't seem to want to just tell me what's going on lately. It's like he has this "plan" and he won't share every detail with me. What the heck.
I found out today one of my middle school youth pastors has two months to live and his wife is pregnant with their third baby that is due in a month. That's insane. It's also not fair. It kind of makes me feel like a jerk that I am annoyed that I don't have the money to go to the beach. Seeing things in perspective, I don't have the right to be annoyed about anything ever, which makes me feel like what I'm feeling is stupid which makes it worse.
I didn't really talk about this at all when it happened, but last summer a good friend of mine died. He was 17, my sister's age. I was good friends with his brother- he was the cutest kid. I'm still really upset that he died, and I still haven't really processed that.
I'm going on month 13 of no crying. That's frustrating too because I feel like most of what's happening right now in life is cry-worthy and the fact that I haven't wept over any of it makes me feel calloused and more of a jerk. I feel like if I start crying about stuff I'll open the proverbial floodgates and be a basketcase for about a month. Today and tomorrow were supposed to be days where I let these things just sink in and sit and let the last couple of months catch up with me- I don't think that's actually gonna happen.
I'm also really arbitrarily angry at my dad lately. If there was one time in my whole life that I need him to come through it's right now. And a word out there to all fathers or future fathers or even uncles: If you let your daughter graduate highschool without having convinced her that you think she is the most beautiful creature on earth, you have failed. She'll never think she's beautiful and she'll never believe any guy that tells her she is regardless of whether she is or not. That is your job- that's what fathers are supposed to do. So, if I find out any of your daughters get screwed up because you were a jerk, I'm coming after you.
My dad also thinks it's appropriate lately to call my mom and get her to talk him out of committing suicide. He called her the other day and told her he's going swimming in the Long Island Sound and he might try to just swim to Connecticut. I told her to tell him to swallow his I.D. so they'll know who he is when they find his body. This is the way the Stembokases handle their crap. We let things get so overwhelming that we just throw up our hands and go, I need to go to the beach. Only I wasn't going to swim away. As alarming as it is that my dad threatens to drive off bridges because nobody loves him, none of us take him seriously because he's never followed through with anything in his life; which is also another Stembokas trait that I have inherited, which is also another point of frustration. I have all these plans and aspirations and goals, some of which I've had since middle school, that I've never accomplished and I've gotten to the point where I now expect that anything I set out to do wont happen. I can only accomplish impulsive rash things that I decide to do in two seconds. But if I decide to do it and it takes longer than a day to accomplish, forget about it. Forget about steps or small goals or long processes. I don't have the stamina or the patience to see anything through. Marriage and childrearing should be interesting.
I think that's all for today folks...
Sorry all my blog posts have been whiney and all about me lately, but it's my blog so I'll write what I want.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Saturday, May 05, 2007
word vomit
I was born in New York and I lived in two or three different houses there. When I was four I moved to North Carolina to this brick house that the only thing I remember about was the backyard. Then when my mom threw my dad out we moved into a trailer in a trailerpark in another town. Then after a while we found an apartment above a barber shop- that's where I went to kindergarden. Then after that we moved into an apartment building in another town (another school for me) and my grandma moved in with us for a while. Then, when I had just turned eight (third grade), my parents decided to give it another go because we couldn't afford rent where we were so a little before Christmas I moved away from North Carolina to New York. We were in New York for three months before things went south and I finished off my third grade year in Northern Virginia while living at my grandpa's house.[so that's three different schools, states and houses during third grade if you're keeping track] The next school year I went to a different elementary school than the one in third grade because the other one was full. We moved again the summer of fourth grade to our first house with a yard. I went to a different school in fifth grade. Sixth grade started middle school, so again, I was in a different school and making different friends. In eighth grade we moved again and I went to highschool in ninth grade- granted, same friends, but different town. The summer I graduated highschool my family moved about 20 minutes away, to a new town, and my sister went to a new school. I was in our apartment for two days before I went to college in Spain for the first time. During my whole first semester at school here, I had no idea what our furniture would look like or anything because my family finished moving in while I was on the plane. That freshman Christmas I came home to a house I didn't recognize, an address I couldn't remember, and a phone number none of my friends had. I spent my freshman summer there too, interning with my church. In the beginning of my sophomore year my family moved again to a different town, phone number, house, you name it. I spent Christmas in a new house again. In the spring of my sophomore year my mom and sister made a big move down to North Carolina- this time without me. I mean, I had a room there and stuff but it was the first time I came home to a house I had never seen before to a room I had never slept in and to a town I didn't recognize. My family's been there for about a year now.
All this to say, I'm getting a little stir crazy now that I've been in Madrid for so long and I've had the same friends for three years and they all know all my crap. Today at church I told even more people my crap. You know what? I don't feel any better about things. I feel like I wanna jump on a plane and go anywhere but here. I've been conditioned to feel that way- just look at how I grew up. My reaction upon arriving back to my room after church was "man, why the heck do I talk so much?! Why can't I just keep my flipping mouth shut. I HAVE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE."
I know why I can't keep my flipping mouth shut. Because neither my mom or dad can keep their flipping mouths shut. I come from a family of talkers. It's their fault. It's genetic.
The Lord asked me to do something hard today, and I did it. What's even harder though is doing things with no visible reward and not seeing any benefit at all. You just humiliate yourself in front of thirty people because you want to love Jesus more and you don't even know what that means.
I want something, anything to be different- like to be able to worship more truthfully or to be able to share my faith with a new courage or to be able to hear God's voice more clearly. But instead I just feel weird. And I know it was encouraging for other people and I get a chance to experience grace- not that that stuff isn't important- I just really want to get on a plane and get out of here. It doesn't help that I just had a soda and popcorn for dinner and then a brownie and I've had a lot of sugar today so I'm jittery and I have this headache and bleheihegaek. Life is flipping complicated but at the same time it's so simple. And now, I'm not making any sense so I'm just going to stop typing.
All this to say, I'm getting a little stir crazy now that I've been in Madrid for so long and I've had the same friends for three years and they all know all my crap. Today at church I told even more people my crap. You know what? I don't feel any better about things. I feel like I wanna jump on a plane and go anywhere but here. I've been conditioned to feel that way- just look at how I grew up. My reaction upon arriving back to my room after church was "man, why the heck do I talk so much?! Why can't I just keep my flipping mouth shut. I HAVE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE."
I know why I can't keep my flipping mouth shut. Because neither my mom or dad can keep their flipping mouths shut. I come from a family of talkers. It's their fault. It's genetic.
The Lord asked me to do something hard today, and I did it. What's even harder though is doing things with no visible reward and not seeing any benefit at all. You just humiliate yourself in front of thirty people because you want to love Jesus more and you don't even know what that means.
I want something, anything to be different- like to be able to worship more truthfully or to be able to share my faith with a new courage or to be able to hear God's voice more clearly. But instead I just feel weird. And I know it was encouraging for other people and I get a chance to experience grace- not that that stuff isn't important- I just really want to get on a plane and get out of here. It doesn't help that I just had a soda and popcorn for dinner and then a brownie and I've had a lot of sugar today so I'm jittery and I have this headache and bleheihegaek. Life is flipping complicated but at the same time it's so simple. And now, I'm not making any sense so I'm just going to stop typing.
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