Trains

Trains represent adventure. 
Mysterious unknown adventure. 
In Mexico and South America travelers ride on top of trains, dangerously seeking a better life in the north. 
In our country too, people sneak onto trains and ride away from discarded lives. 

They bring fear and warmth to my heart. 
They have the power to kill, and to bring good. 
Every time I see a train it awakens some secret nostalgic longing in me, even though I have never been on one.

They are a special type of magic.

New Creation

I am becoming a new person.

I broke through the wall of leaving YouTube comments.
For how much I watch YouTube this is fantastic.
I feel less like a viewer and more like a participant. 
It is freeing. To feel like my comment matters, 
even if no one ever reads it.

I got that internship I mentioned.
The crazy part?
I actually think I can do it.
I'm not one to be confident in my abilities. 
I generally worry that I can't do whatever it is.

But I can do this. and beyond that I want to.
I am willing to try, and to learn to be bold.
Willing to  ask for what I need to do a good job,
and push through the hard stuff. 

And these two situations rub off on how I feel about everything else.

These feelings will fade. In a few months when I'm in the middle of it all,
I'll only feel the struggle.

But. Right now,  It feels good.

It feels good.

Hairy

I'm growing my hair out.

Not that it isn't already long.
Because it is.

But I have been itching to cut it short.
And debating about whether to go short or super long.

I always have this debate.
So I have decided I'll grow it out till spring.


Haircuts can be such meaningful emotional things. When I feel a new season, or just a need for change;

I cut my hair, or add bangs.

So much is tied to hair for girls, or at least for many girls.

The bible says it is "our glory"

But often it feels more like a wrestling partner.

So here's to loving my hair.


Any hair struggles or horror stories? Let me know in the comments.

A note about titles

Two posts in one evening,
amazing.

You may notice I changed my title.
I thought up "Penned in Orange" when I was a sophomore in highschool.

Almost everything has changed since then.                                                (I know highschool is actually

 two words, but I consistently

want for it to be one)

In typical form I have kept my commitment to the title these three years.

Tonight however, I was changing the template, and I realized,

the title not longer fits. 

It hasn't for some time. 

I put limited thought into the new one, however I think It'll stick.

If not, I'll change it until I find the next long term title.

Life is Cereal

I compare myself.
A lot.

TO everyone and anyone.

It makes me feel inadequate, like my life is pointless and worthless. Because other people are doing amazing things and writing amazing things and being amazing. While i remain average, and less than the greatest.

That's what is on my mind at the moment. I want to be incredible, and sometime I think that I am. But mostly not. It isn't really a good thing that I want to be incredible, it makes me feel full of myself and I don't like it.

Anyhow, that's enough of that.

I am almost done with my second to last semester of college.
Then off to job life of some sort.
It all seems to0 misty for my liking at this point.

I had an interview today. For an internship.
I need one for next semester, and I pursued this one almost entirely on my own.
And it looks like I'll get it.

That's pretty cool.

Well, a short post. No deep thoughts. But I enjoy reading about other people's lives.
Perhaps you'll enjoy reading about mine.

Late Night for a Middle Bird

Today I learned...

The most used form of contraception in America is women getting their tubes tied.

7 pages is enough.

Not getting frustrated is hard.

What Gangnam style is.

      That there is no time to be bored because.... (fill in the blank)

Screaming can be good, and cause bonding.

Thinking about creating community gets me crazy excited.

That I can't have it all.

The world was so different when she was born.

There are no words for my feelings. 

A deep ache of anticipated loss. 

And mourning for what has already perished. 

I can't think too long on all the disconnected threads,

else 

I fade.

A season of Joy

The first sunflower finally bloomed.

My window holds 12 baby succulents, and I'll try not to be heart broken if they don't all make it.

There are 3 avocado pits lounging in water, while I wait hoping they will blossom into tiny trees, even though it is the wrong season for them.

And that is all I will tell you about my plants. Although I could go on for quite sometime.

I love Plants (also i love outside, plants make inside a little more like outside), I love deep relationships, and I love art.

One of my classes this semester has been pushing me to define my passion in a way that finally connects with me.

I care about people connecting with other people in meaningful ways.

I do not always have the energy to put into people the way I would like, but I endeavor to live a life style that allow me to have that energy as often as possible. For me this means making space. (primarily) Space for sleep, and space for God. 

I do not have that much space though, my days are packed pretty solid, and so are most nights. 

In any-case I look forward to the rain. It is not raining and it is not yet cold. I want to wear my pea-coats and my boots. I want to feel appropriate wearing tights. 

These are merely trivial things.

They are not important.

The important things I hardly have time for.