Paradise and Honor

that title has nothing to do with the post... as per usual. But it usually has something to do with my life. Paradise and Honor are portions of titles of books on my book shelf. :)

So lately I've been learning guitar. I know, I know... it may or may not be a complete jump onto the bandwagon. But, when the bandwagon is completely and totally awesome, I don't judge when people jump on. Which is why you shouldn't judge me.

There are two things preventing me from becoming a totally and completely awesome and talented guitarist.

1. Julie has little hands. I love my hands and they can do a great many things, but bar chords are something that eludes their acrobatic ability. Note to self: train hands in acrobatics.

2. Julie has song ADD. She gets bored with one song, and so never perfects the songs that she starts to learn. Soon, she'll have a whole binder full of tabs and chords, and not a single masterpiece to call her own.

As a closing remark: I love being on this bandwagon.

Number Seventy Eight

Sometimes, I really wonder about everything. Not with any purpose in mind, but just wondering like wandering through something, seeing if there should be a purpose in mind after all.

I dyed my hair blonde. I really really like the change, and I was always super scared that if I dyed it blonde it would look... bad. But it doesn't. It looks strawberry blonde because for some reason my hair has this other identity called "I think I'm actually red at heart." ... does hair have a heart?

If my hair had a heart, right now it would love me for making it look so awesome, or it would feel bullied because I always make it change for me. That could be a toxic relationship, and if it was between anyone other than me and my hair, I would advise those anyones to get out while they still can.

But my hair stays with me... even when blonde.

Bingo Was His Name-o

There is a steady drip from the tap in our kitchen sink.

It sounds like this:

"Drip, drip, drip, drip..." Endlessly. Incessantly. Constant. Unfailing.

The only thing I have to say about it (other than how totally and completely irritating it is to listen to) is that more things should take after the drip. Especially people.

Constant and unfailing. Lessons from a very annoying water drip.

Only 24 left...

I have an irrational fear of coming off strange.

Which is weird, because most of my life is composed of a string of strange things put side-by-side in a rather peculiar orchestration of curiosity.

There is a really cute guy who works next to where I work. Earlier this year I would occasionaly see him drive by in their truck... or working in the distance. Like most girls, I would simply admire and be inwardly grateful that God created such people for our eye pleasure.

I made the mistake of letting it slip that I had such a shallow admiration of this person one day whilst at work. This led to a rather interesting set of manipulations, ending with Julie working with afore-mentioned cute guy in her yoga pants and ratty old shirt.

Unfortunately, the "I lack confidence and the ability to speak intelligently in front of people like him" side of me came out. And I completely blotched my chance like an over-inked pen. I felt like one of those weird stalker people. I couldn't just count my blessings and admire from afar; no, I had to get a closer look-- and I failed as miserably as a peeping tom falling out of his tree.

Well. I guess to cute guy I will always be that random, strange, weird girl. Which means I must get over my irrational fear, or spend my life being afraid.

Sinking and Swimming

I love music. A lot. Lately, my listening trend on spotify and youtube has been Eric Whitacre. I seriously admire everything that this man creates, and I and the opportunity to sing one of his songs once in a choir, which was a beautiful experience.

Music makes friends out of people, I have decided. You may quote me on that because I truly know it to be true. If I can't relate with someone at all, except in music, I can still understand them. If someone has terrible taste in music, I instantly know that we may not be as good of friends as I first thought. And, if someone find s for me a song that I have not heard, but fall in love with, that person is a hero to me, for bringing more goodness and beauty into my life.

I once wanted to write a book about a single person at any given time of the earth's history who is "in charge" of the music that becomes created. He would regulate dreams, master and deliver moments of genius, have preferences and breakthroughs, all through the artists of the time. Imagine being a child and finding out that you are responsible to make the music happen-- imagine receiving the gifts to do so. I thought it would be interesting.

Listen yourself some music, for it is beyond words to express what it can do.

The Science of ... Something

Uncertainty: the state of being hesitant, ambivalence.

I'm uncertain about a lot of things. I'm uncertain about why people like sprouts (as in those cabbage things that taste worse than cabbage). I'm uncertain about why winter exists, when it could be warm and summer all the time. I'm uncertain over fake houseplants, cats (in all shapes and sizes), veggie burgers and white walls.

Uncertainty can be very useful.

But sometimes, I just wish it would go away and leave with a great feeling of knowing. Not hesitant. Not ambivalent. Certain.

I think uncertainty is the greatest cause of fear. We fear jumping from buildings because we are uncertain if we will live. We fear the future because we are uncertain what will occur. We fear other people because we are uncertain if they are people we shouldn't fear.

Uncertainty causes us to back out, give up, forget, or procrastinate. Uncertainty, therefore, feeds uncertainty until it grows into something bigger... disuncertainty?