step back, back, back...

I have never been awesome with words. The collections of my personal thoughts which I treasure very rarely make it out of my mind in the same form they were conceived. Too cliched, too immature, too verbose... whatever comes out seems different than how it began. I get self-conscious of my words. But I should keep trying, and here I try again.

The gift we have been given to be able to think is so beautiful.
It's ugly, the way we use it. Complaining, blaming others, and hurting people to get what we want is so horribly human, and it seems like people find it irresistible. I get so sick of being around it, when all I want is to be happy... and then I remember that it's me who makes me happy.

Nothing that is going on in my life is perfect, but in a way it's all perfectly right: it's according to plan. It sounds so simple, but so many forget this so quickly: you have total control over how you feel. I have known that torture of letting my thoughts whirlwind out of control, but I refuse to let it run my life.

On this pretty sunrise morning, I feel perfectly in it. This is it, and it's what I have. I'm in God's hands, I'm satisfied, I'm in love, I'm happy. I watch myself fall into grace, and I know this is where I am meant to be. All the little parts of my human life will be done just right by me, if I succeed by keeping my heart in the right place. It's my little cozy island of hope within a filthy world of common disappointments.

On Top of Old Smokey

All covered with cheese? Work was really boring, and the more I work the less I like restaurants. Sure, I made $130 in a few short hours, but I get really sick of just about all the other aspects of that job. Sooo many people who come there to eat have given me advice about how to land a job in Linguistics instead. Alas, the thought of taking a pay cut (even if only temporarily) is hard to bear. And not one of these people has said that this area is a feeding ground for linguistic education. It's not.

So do I move to DC? Or keep my feet planted here and continue to make $20-28/hour on weekends? Or... go back to school and acquire my M.A. in teaching? Or go work in a law office to see if I'd like that instead? gah!

Instead I read novels and play games until I figure myself out. I have a few more good applications out for state jobs right now, but if those don't pull through, I'll have to reconsider my options.

Bengals and Jobs

Last night out of boredom I looked up some exotic cats. I guess it's a left over interest from when I was little: I used to read Cat Fancy magazine and I spoiled my orange tabby to no end. I stumbled across some Bengals, which I always thought were super interesting because they can have spotted coats, and they're usually really big. I found a breeder in Maryland. For a minute, I got really excited and thought maybe I could get one, if my roommates were okay with it and I could afford the "pet rent" at my new place. Here's one of the mother cats at the breedery:



The Cost for one of her kittens?

$1200-2000.

Time to go look for a new job.

beginnings... part two

As a linguist, I ought to know that a single letter can make all the difference. When creating my original blogger account, however, I left out the "g" in "gmail". My account was ruined for life.

So here is a new, improved blog, complete with all the trappings of my Google account (and of course, one less password... hooray for online simplicity). Check out my wish list in my profile area, and read up on my interests. A new blog should show up whenever I have a twist of expository energy.