do you ever feel like once the ball of your life starts rolling it's very exciting, but it's also sort of scary because you realize that it's rolling in directions you weren't entirely planning on and even some you were sure it never would and you never wanted it to? wait, let me skip the timid passivity and rephrase: i feel like once the ball of my life started rolling it was very exciting, but i'm also sort of scared because i'm realizing it's rolling in directions i wasn't entirely planning on and even some i was sure it never would and i never wanted it to. i really don't feel quite as negative about it as that sentence may sound, but this is something on my mind. i'm not a cookie-cutter person. i've never liked doing things lots of other people liked doing, partly out of choice and partly because i just don't like them. things like reading harry potter or enjoying high school musical, wearing my hair with the bangs all pinned straight back from my forehead so it makes that "bump" on the top of your head, wearing coats or shoes, going to nursing school, attending "ward game nights" to play awkward social games in a room full of single people dying to get a date, dating lots of guys in general... i'm not comfortable in those situations for a variety of reasons, but mostly because they don't feel like me. i'd rather read non-mainstream fantasy novels and enjoy watching fiddler on the roof, wear pigtails and go barefoot, go to college for art and piano lessons, skip school to play "axis and allies" and drink whole bottles of sparkling cider with my highschool buddies and fall in love with my friends rather than date people i don't know.
you know what else i don't like? cookie-cutter houses. and those brand new neighborhoods that don't have any trees. and beautiful homes with brand new everything, that people always decorate with pre-made cutesy wooden signs and fake ivy and those jars full of vinegar and vegetables that would be cool if your grandma made it but isn't because you bought it at target. (p.s. i do love target.) okay, so maybe it's ridiculous and too critical and a little harsh. but my favorite homes growing up were the little old brick ones, ones with actual ivy growing in the cracks and unevenly plastered walls in the inside, with faulty swamp coolers and old plumbing. ones in old neighborhoods with sidewalks all broken up by the roots of the enormous trees lining the streets. i like being in the heart of the old suburbs; not in the butt end of the valley where the sun shines too hot and colorless and everything smells like drywall and wal-mart.
please, just give me an old house with some character, and some kindred spirits nearby.
however, that ball keeps rolling, and if i let it get away from me i'd be lost and sad. so sometimes i might have to suck it up and do something i hate. i might still be sad, but at least i wouldn't be lost.