I'm a Terrible Blogger.

Sorry guys my life has been craaaazzzzzzyyy in more ways than one. I'll probably crank out several letters over winter break. But until then pretty much everything but school and AGD are on hold.

The Letter C

Thanks for your patience, kids! Good thing none of you are learning your ABCs from this or you would be the slowest learners ever. I will try to make my updates more regular from now on, hopefully weekly, but that's optimistic. Life has been a little crazy.


Today we're going to learn about the letter C.


The first thing that I will list, which also happened to be my first word, is:

COOKIE. Like Cookie Monster always said "C" is for Cookie. He is correct. I love to bake, smell and eat cookies. But my very favorite thing to do is bake about a million of my secret recipe chocolate chip cookies, and watch people eat them. I love to make people happy with my baking adventures, whether I get to eat a cookie or not. I always get to lick the spoon anyways :]


CATS.
Cats are amazing. I have two at home. They are soft and loving and mysterious. Sometimes they scratch, and sometimes they throw up, and some days when you come home they don't want to sit in your lap. But I think their intelligence, mixed with their vulnerabilities and flaws, make them wonderful.



Chocolat is one of my favorite films of all time, because it is so much more than a love story. It is about acceptance, and friendship, and letting go, and the difference between spirituality and religion. Plus, Johnny Depp AND chocolate is involved, also with an incredibly fashionable and engaging heroine.

I have TWO songs this time, one is
Casanova, Baby! By Gaslight Anthem
and the other, which features my favorite music video of all time is Can't Stop by The Red Hot Chilli Peppers.

Also, please let me know if these videos (specifically the first one) is a live/ lame recording, my internet is spotty here at AGD, so I wasn't able to check it out first.

Hopefully y'all will hear from me next week :]

Boundaries

The letter C is in the works. I have to rant.

Have you ever wanted something that you used to have, or thought you had? Something that is not possible now? Something that will probably be yours eventually?
Have you ever waited patiently because you've been promised a change?
Do you ever think you've been fooling yourself?
When does forgiveness become madness? When does self-sacrifice become self-mutilation?
How long is it okay to help the one you love and ignore the harm you receive?

Tears have fallen easily these last few days. He left Friday. Last time I saw him it was Wednesday, and things were normal; maybe even better than ever. It really bothers me that I haven't seen him since it all came crashing down, but I doubt it bothers him. He seems quite happy with the arrangement; he seems confused about why I'm so upset when this is happening to him. I can't be the pillar of strength I was for him last time. I want to see him, I want him to hold me, or just touch me as I curl up in the fetal position and melt away in my tears. I want him to know how deeply insecure I've been for months, how I've wrapped much of my self-worth in whether I heard from him that day or not, how many crazy girlfriend tendencies and thoughts I've buried.


I know I can't depend on him, or anyone, for all the responsibilities I've assigned to him. Especially not now. That's why I tried to loosen our ties to each other, tried to make this separation easier. But I feel like my heart has been ripped out, stomped on, run over,chopped up, tossed around, pureed and given back to me a mess. And this isn't the first time. I feel like I mean less to him than he does to me, though I know that's not true. It doesn't erase the fact that the decision that made our one year anniversary one of the hardest days to get through so far in my life was made with little or no thought of me, was made without a phone call before all was decided. I'm a satellite in all this when it hit me in the very core, and I just have to get through it alone. It is wrong of me to even expect to have been a part of it. I know I'm being selfish and acting like a child, but how long will I have to sit patiently and keep my mouth shut, waiting for a normal and happy relationship, without the obsessiveness on my part and the weirdness and secrecy on his?

So this love. I think it's worth it.

The Letter B

Soo now we finally move on to the letter B!!! Get excited.




BRAS/ MY BOOBS. Okay, so anyone who knows me knows I have larger breasts than most people, so I consider myself a bra expert by default. Bras to me are one of the most wonderful inventions of all time. They're beautiful, they support you, they are comfortable, and they can make me feel lovely and desirable on my worst days. Also, I am a bit of a bra drill sergeant. Ladies, if you are larger than a double A and are wearing an article of clothing that is not supportive, do the world a favor and PUT THE EFFING BRA ON. There is nothing that makes me more uncomfortable than a woman who is not wearing a bra. I know this makes me sound silly, but I really don't think that it is a bad thing to look your best, and bras are not difficult to wear. Some women act like they're being asked to wear an iron chastity belt. Put the lighter down, ladies. love the bra and it will love you. /rant.

Now, I have had a love hate relationship with my breasts since I had to get a C-cup bra at age 8. But now I don't really know who I would be without them. They're part of my identity, they've given me an external aesthetic obviously, but they also have given me the ability to laugh at myself, the experience of crippling self consciousness, and the figure similar to Ms. Monroe, which doesn't hurt me a bit. They're like my companions - they are always there, and they go through all that I do. They're part of what make me . . . me. and I never want them to be anything but the way they are. Though it would be nice to spend less than $70 on a bra, and not have to plan a major heist to find one in my size. Just sayin'


BLOGGING. I know I don't update a lot, and I'm not about to quit my day job and live off my blog profits from my millions of followers, but look at the amazing things you can find in blogs. Some of them are boring and incoherent, but parts of life are boring and incoherent. Look at the voice the common man has now, look at the opportunity we all have to create and share. I can't get over how amazing that is.


BOYS.
May I say that I adore the opposite sex? I love males - of all shapes, sizes, and age. Of course I'm attracted to some of them, but it's more than that. I love the way boys do things. I love the way they think, the way they can solve a problem with a short tussle or a smart ass comment. I love to talk to boys. I love the earnestness in young boys' faces when they are talking to their mothers. I feel like I can learn so much from my male counterparts, and I find them fascinating, captivating, and admirable at the base of what they are. I believe in boys, and I believe that males and females have a lot to learn from each other if they will ever stop it with the expectations, accusations, and wrongs against each other. I hope one day we can coexist without one stifling the other, and we can really value what makes us different.

Wow, b makes me philosophical. here's a weird glam rock song that begins with b. Enjoy.

The Letter A

Today, children, we will learn about the Letter A.
Here are a few important things in my life that begin with the letter A.



One of my besties, Andrea. Sometimes when I'm with her, I wonder how it's possible for two people to be so different and sometimes, I wonder how it's possible for two people to be so much alike. Andrea challenges me and makes me think everyday just by being who she is, and she is super duper fun and awesome. I love her to death.




Next is Alpha Gamma Delta, my sorority. Not only am I inspired and changed by the women I live with, but also the organization itself and what it represents. I'll not bore you with the details, but the Purpose is on Wikipedia if you want to see a sliver of what I mean :]




Audrey. What can I say? She is beauty, grace, and class personified. But she is so much more than an icon to me. Here is a woman who knew how to live life. She never considered herself the most talented, beautiful, or engaging person in the room, she just went out and did her very best every time. She worked hard, was never above speaking to anyone, and aged gracefully by doing nothing to stop age from coming. She inspires me often.



Amelie is a movie that is so beautiful and so lovely and it makes me so happy that I cry sometimes. I LOOOOVVVEE this film.

And, last but not least,
ALONE by Heart.

This song is so incredible. Just listen. Your ears, and heart, will thank you.



Much Love,
Sammi

New project for my blog.

I am going to begin crafting an alphabet of inspiration . . . basically, each post I have a letter along with songs, books, films, people, whatever that inspire me that start with that letter.

unfortunately, i don't have time to post this business now, but the letter A is on its way!! haha that rhymed.

I still believe

I still believe that there is something beautiful to be found somewhere in every person I come across.

I still believe that if I learned every bit of information in the universe, I would still learn something new every day

I still believe that happiness is a choice you make every second

I still believe that cynicism is the fastest road to pain

I still believe that our strongest bonds with God are created when we are the farthest removed from Him.

I still believe that there are boys in this world who will feel lucky if they get to hold her hand and talk for hours.

I still believe that nothing worth having should be easy to get

I still believe in good intention

I still believe that everything should be approached with the wisdom of an elder and the innocence of a child.

I still believe that marriage can work.

I still believe that doubt is the better part of faith

I still believe in the nobility of humankind

I still believe you should love yourself before you give love to someone else

I still believe that things happen for a reason

I still believe that a person with the smallest faith has a larger impact than someone who believes nothing

Despite everything,
I still believe.

Some songs I am enjoying

I thought I would share some music with you, friends.
Click on the title to listen.

Mumford and Sons - The Cave

Such a powerful, yet quiet song. I would almost say smoldering. I've never come across a set of lyrics that are so loving, so cruel, and so honest all at once. One of my favorite discoveries on the radio.


The Raconteurs - These Stones Will Shout
First of all, the guitar work on this song is gorgeous, and this may be one of my favorite songs of all time. It is from one of my favorite albums of all time. I believe everyone who enjoys good, complex, diverse rock sounds should own a copy of "Consolers of the Lonely". I also love this song because I feel like the way the music sounds tells the story better than the lyrics. But I'm crazy like that. In short, I LOVE THIS SONG.


Ra Ra Riot - Can You Tell

What can I say? This song is beautiful, through and through. And addictive to boot.



That's all I have for now.

Hmmm

The most difficult feeling of all is the feeling that I have nothing to say.
So I thought I would at least say that.

Home.

It feels very strange being back home . . . I mean, given the drama and stress that ended my first year of college, I was more than ready to return here, to slow down and enjoy time with family and friends, to take some time to work on me - and, trust me, I need a lot of work - but it still feels strange now that I'm here. Part of me feels like everything has been paused since the last time I was here, as if home and Wesleyan live in different dimensions and different timelines, but another part of me feels like an observer in a household which has learned to function without its fourth member. While I know I'm welcome and it's a comfort to be here, I can't help but feel like a guest at times, especially when special dinners are made and I am asked what I would like to do for the day. I know this feeling will fade soon, as it did during my Winter break, and I imagine that my new job will help. When I am here, it is easy to regret moving so far away. Sometimes it feels like the 8 hour drive/train ride might as well be light years away from home, and it makes me feel very alone and independent. So when I'm back, it's hard to become part of the family rhythm again. Regardless of these feelings, it's really, truly good to be home at last.

Friendship.

I've been having a lot of talks about friendship and relationships in general lately.
And, to be honest, it's a lot more complicated than it seems. I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you exactly what friends are because it's different for everyone. But here are my personal views on how to be a friend.

-Never compare one friendship with another. Everyone's unique, so are friendships.

-Meet people where they are, and don't have a list of expectations.

-Take what you feel like you can give back.

-RECIPROCATE. No one should have to guess if you care about them.

-Make your friends and their feelings a priority over your convenience. If you tell someone you will be there, do what it takes to be there.

-Love them. Forgive them. Accept them. Take care of them. But only if they have earned it.

-Respect them, and let them be who they are.

-Know when to let go.

-Listen to them - I think this is the most important. Don't just hear. listen.



Night night.

I can't believe it.

My first year of college is coming to a close.
I feel like I just got here, like I have a lot of time. But I quite clearly do not.
Sketchhh.

Pause.

I'm writing to you in the thick of my second all-nighter in three days.

I've had to have a marathon of heart to hearts with my best friends.

I had a visit from my mother, which was wonderful, but included a surprise group therapy session where all of my dirty laundry was aired out to my friend and her mom at the Green Gateau, and I received advice and pity from people I didn't want to share my problems with in the first place.

I have had several increasingly difficult conversations with the man I love since April 15th.

I've fallen asleep crying one day, and smiling the next.

I've been sick and healthy, lazy and productive, shallow and deep - depends on the hour.

I need a pause. Time to rest. Time to pray. Time to think.

But life is not kind enough to stop for a moment so that I can breathe.

Agape.

Agape means love. But it's more complicated and specific than that. Agape is the term for a perfect love, a forgiving love, the kind of love that God feels for His children. I am not referring to romantic love, so those of you who are tired of my posts about angst and love, this is not one of those posts. And I thank you all for your patience. I strive to be someone who is poised and balanced and wise. But on this blog, I have been far from that. I have been stormy, emotional, paradoxical, and, worst of all, flowery. These are trespasses which are inexcusable and out of line with my character and my mind. I have been . . . scattered lately.

Tonight I am here to discuss something that I have come close to abandoning. My faith. It really pains me to be typing this. I have found myself in a space in life where I leave no time, no thought for spirituality. I have closed my heart to the perfect love, the love of God, and I am numb. And I hate it.

Still Water.

Still Water runs deep?

Perhaps still water only hides a tumultuous feeling underneath

or perhaps still water does run deep, because the hurts have drilled so deeply, water is trying to fill the new space.

Tonight, I feel everything and nothing at once. Red hot anger and numbness. Hostility and compassion. I'm hurt, but I can't put my hurt into words.

Maybe I shouldn't have watched Breakfast at Tiffany's, I'm being so Capote. I feel like hiding out in a small, dark, overtly decorated apartment bedroom writing sensitive, deeply-felt prose with a typewriter, cold coffee, and a full ashtray . . . I don't even smoke. Ha.

Anyone who claims love is easy is full of shit. That's a fact.

. . . is anybody there? I feel like I'm talking into a void.

Lost.

I hate being forced into inaction.

I don't know what to do.

Please pray for me.

Fear

Is it normal to be afraid of yourself?

To fear one's own mind, and the problems it can create for you?

Last week during spring break, I faced a couple of my own dragons.

They are far from slain.

And I feel that they will always be a part of me, hiding in their caverns with the other beasts in the realm of my psyche, but I think I am at peace with that.

As long as those beasts exist, I will keep rising to try to defeat them. They will best me sometimes, they have before. Sometimes for hours, days, weeks, months, and even years. Like I said, they have before. But when they do, I always manage to get back up, not in a blazing glory like a phoenix, but quietly and gingerly like an injured warrior learning to fight again.

I'm not sure whether what I feel is fear, shame, or exhilaration at the presence of these monsters at the edge of the map, maybe a mixture of the three, but I know that I accept them and the battles with them are a very real part of me.

Hello Sun.

It's funny how even when you are presented with challenges and harsh truths and you see the grave you've dug for yourself right in front of you, you can look up at the sun and know that if nature can give itself a fresh start and melt the snow away, then so can you.


Thank God for these moments.

Centered.

Being so far from home, I feel very removed from my foundation, far from my center. Don't worry, dear reader, this post is not about to filled with pseudo-zen west-east find-your-chi-and-eat-your-flax-seed crap. I don't really prescribe to any of that. Growing up, weekends have always been family time, time to relax and unwind at home. Sometimes I would even turn my cell phone off on Saturdays to avoid the awkwardness of rejecting my friends' invitations in favor of watching movies with my parents and brother. Now that I am going to school 7 hours away from home, I can't really do that on the weekends.



Often I feel when I spend my weekend with friends, I roll straight into Monday still carrying the fatigue of last week, and the week before that, and the week before that. No matter what I do during the weekend, I don't feel rested or relieved or happy. I never really thought about or wondered why this was. Sometimes you find answers before you ask the questions. This weekend I went to my boyfriend's house to visit his parents and his grandma, and to do some free laundry.



I was welcomed into their home on Saturday afternoon, ate home baked pizza, played video games (kids v. adults) and watched movies. Before I knew it, it was 5pm on Sunday, I was freshly showered after hot tubbing the night before, I had a ham sandwich and fresh coffee in my stomach, and my embarassing quantity of laundry was done and expertly folded by the able hands of an 85-year-old woman who managed to fight me off when I tried to do it myself. I was told to come by anytime and my boyfriend was asked to drive safely.



When I got back, I immediately unpacked everything and put things back in their place, which is unusual for me because I usually let full suitcases sit there for several hours before I touch them. I felt so good, I even cleaned up my dorm room. It was going to be a droll Monday. Two tests, early morning, long afternoon. But I did everything diligently and with confidence. And I think it's because I was in a home full of love for 24 hours, and that was all I needed. It wasn't anything like going home, but somehow it was close enough to make me feel rested.

Welcome

I would like to apologize to whoever may or may not be reading this for how unceremoniously I flung the reader into my most complex and deep emotional feelings in the first post. I am rather secretive about romantic love, and it was rather freeing to go on a rant about it. But now, I want to be a good blogger and introduce my dear reader to this blog.
Really and truly, my only purpose is to keep myself writing. I have always been a writer, and with the challenges and pressures of academia, I have lost the need to write for pleasure for the past couple of years, and thanks to my friend (who is currently the only person who knows about this blog) I have decided to start a blog- and actually keep it current.
The title means exactly as it sounds. I am Sammi, in search of self.
So here, you will find the ramblings of a college student. You will find attempts at humor, irony, and profundity.
What you will not find here is cynicism. I think that life is far too short to not approach it with as much enthusiasm as can be produced in that moment.
You will not find pretension. I am not here to impress anyone, just to write. Maybe inspire something in someone somewhere, but I seriously doubt that will happen.
Lastly, you will not find moping and emotional drivel. Life happens to everyone, and I don't believe that anyone with the ability to blog by definition really has the right to claim that life is a swirling pool of thick black darkness, and you will not find those claims anywhere near here.
So, if anyone's out there, spending time reading this, thank you for your time and patience. I may not sweep you off of your feet, but I hope to make you at least smile.
Love always,
Sammi

Love

I am in love.
Honestly, this is difficult for me, this feeling of love. For so long I have been used to isolation, to the sanctity of being the only one inside my head, the only one who understands me. I am very comfortable in loneliness, I am happy to go about my business without my hand being held or my forehead being kissed or being told how lovely and wonderful I am. In fact, I would often get annoyed or embarrassed when receiving compliments or special attention from anyone outside of my family. I like the isolated existence of my life most of the time. I can live in my head without dragging anyone else into it, and that spares me and my loved one. I have hidden from romance, wanted it but avoided it for the majority of my life. But here I am, deeply and irrevocably in love for the first time.
I feel alarmingly human. I feel out of control, extremely prone to make mistakes, to make my life messy, to hurt and be hurt. I am terrified, vulnerable, naked. I feel like every action could ruin everything or every non-action could ruin everything. I am frightened beyond belief. But I think feeling this way reminds me that I'm alive, that I am mortal and that the world is finite and could crash around me at any moment. And for the time being, I am incredibly uncomfortable, but endlessly happy.