A list of sorts...

1. I need to start doing Personal Friday again. I miss it.
2. Mom and I are going to Ikea tomorrow. I need a computer desk. It will be awesome.
3. I'm selling my electric guitars because I hardly ever play them. Extremely unfortunate.
4. I bought a new shirt today, but I'm going to return it.
5. The newest word in my daily vocabulary: budget.
6. I have decided to call Austin this week to discuss recording a full-length CD.
7. To help with painting, I've decided to take a 4-6 week continued education Painting course.
8. I'm running and biking again.
9. Fhwqhgads is the best beta fish ever.
10. I hate how "10" is slightly indented and doesn't line up directly underneath the above numbers.

I once related tents with the circus. But never again. From the far end of the parking lot, it is plain and simple looking. Immense white sheets placed on high-rising poles with only white flags to decorate the highest points. Everyone migrates toward the entrance, holding the hands of their spouse and children, wondering what exciting thing awaits them inside. All I wonder is how hot it will be once we're inside and how long I'll be able to tolerate it.

Arriving early, we discovered a plethora (how I love that word) of merchandise. Everything was arranged and propped up just so. It seemed as though every product available had something to brag about. The T-shirts, the posters, the hand-painted masks--all of them saying something to the effect of, "You might purchase me, but I'm still better than you." With every turn around the corner, I began to wonder, What is Cirque Du Soliel, and why have I never heard of it before? Crafty and colorfully made clown hats and bright red berets. Everything was labeled in French with tiny text below translating in English--suddenly my own language became the lesser and I really loved how that made me feel.

A man with a jester's hat stood at a podium in the center of the food court area, holding a program in one hand and a CD in the other. Screaming words like "fantastic!" "mystical!" "unbelievable!" and others. His voice boomed over our heads and I watched as mom rushed over to purchase her own copies. She threw down $35 for the items and expected no change in return. There were worse things she could have spent it on. Like a hot dog for $6 or a framed picture of two acrobats for $275.

Once we'd finished entertaining our eyes' appetite, we directed ourselves toward the center of the tent. The usher, dressed in black, took us to our seats, which happened to be positioned behind a huge pillar-like structure that had three purposes, 1) to support the tent, 2) to seat the lighting man, and 3) to block our view. Throughout the show, all four of us (my parents, brother, and me) were forced to shift our head positions from left to right regularly in order to see whatever we could around the pillar. Despite this particular annoyance, it hardly stopped us from enjoying a truly amazing performance.

Even before it had officially begun, there were three clowns amidst the audience making the wait seem non-existant. A heavier clown wearing enormous orange pants with suspenders held an even bigger box loaded with popcorn. He made his way through the audience chairs, stomping on people's feet and "accidentally" spilling popcorn down the fronts of their shirts. With every person he tripped over or smacked, he would throw out a gloved hand as if to apologize profusely and he would continue down the isle. Another clown with a white fuzzy wig and a yellow tie so long it dragged on the ground, fluttered about the audience members with a run-down suitcase filled with who-knows-what. He was a meloncholy character with black eyeliner to make his eyes droop, a white face, and a bright red nose. He was by far my favorite clown.

The show started with a 6-member band who played their own instruments. Their costumes were all white, as well as their instruments, and they marched together, playfully following a leader with a pudgy belly and a hump on his back. He dressed in red and carried a buton and he smiled and kicked his feet out in front of him, leading the music down the isles of the audience, as if placing each note down the line of a scale. There was a keyboardist, a guitarist, and bassist, a saxiphone player, a drummer, and a tiny girl played the accordian. Their make-up was incredible, with rosy cheeks and blue lips, and hair dyed white that stood up on end. They played and they would stop and the red band leader would reach for the hand of a young woman and he would dance with her for a short time and she would laugh and blush and you knew she was thinking, Everyone's looking at me. I hope I look good and after the band leader guided her back to her seat, you knew she was thinking, Wow, that was fun.

The show is a giant mix of different acts. All incredible. All breathtaking. All magical. Candy for all the senses. A cast of characters ran about the stage, each of them knowing exactly what to do at every second of the show. Everything about them was exaggerated and over-done. Their thighs and butts were made huge and the noses on their masks were a foot long. Each one had their own personality. Not one was alike to the other, despite looking identical to each other.

There was a woman dressed in a silver gown who sang beautifully and in French. She glided across the stage throughout the night and seemed to tell the story of each artist as they performed. A contortionist twisted her body in and out and folded her spine completely in half. To be a contortionist is something natural--you can only train yourself so far, but unless you have it in your genetic structure, you are quite limited. Who knows how many naturally-born contortionists there are in the world who would rather pursue the life of a computer programmer instead of an entertainer. A group of men and women ran across the stage and bounced from one end to the other on trampolines hidden beneath the stage floor. My dad later said it was his favorite part of the whole thing. A man who flew across the tent with his wrists bound by bungees. A dancer who passed fire through his hands and could even lick the flames with his tongue without causing him any sort of harm. There was a man who could balance his entire body with one hand, shifting his weight in such an unnatural way, it was almost too difficult to watch. Trapeze artists, flying gymnasts, and high bar flyers... This hardly explains the detail of what I saw today.

My favorite part of Cirque Du Soliel involved my favorite character--the clown with the white fuzzy wig. It started quietly in the dark, with a few members of the orchestra playing. The percussionist tapped a cow bell and the accordian player played a few keys... The clown waddled on stage with his suitcase dragging across the floor. He reached center-stage and looked up toward the audience with a sort of tired and longing expression. The lights came up and behind him was a drape, blue with little yellow stars and a quarter-moon, obviously indicating that for the clown, it was night time. To his left there was a rope hanging from one of the poles. He bent over to open his suitcase, flipped the top and two tiny white baloons floated out and flew gently to the ceiling. He watched them as they went. He reached back into his suitcase and pulled out a black coat and hat. He took them to the rope and hung them there. He stared at them a moment, then he slipped his right arm into one of the sleeves and wrapped it around himself, creating the illusion of dancing with someone under the stars. He closed his eyes and pressed his face against the collar of the coat. He swayed to and fro in a romantic and sad fashion. The whole audience could feel how lonely he was... But soon the clown realized how silly it was (to dance with a coat) and crossed over to the suitcase and plopped himself on top of it. He stared back at the coat and I knew that if this clown had real thoughts, he would certainly be thinking I wish there was another clown wearing that coat... A pretty clown... Suddenly, tiny pieces of tissue paper started to fall from above him. Kyle and I tried to see where they were coming from, but it was too dark. Soon, the tissue was falling rapidly and in abundance, creating a snowy scene all around him. The clown continued to sit, he pulled his coat tightly around him and when he did, everyone watching felt colder. The music continued to build, but it matched the scene perfectly. There was a sudden "gust of wind" sounding over the music, and I wondered what was happening. The sound of the wind grew stronger and the clown's expression turned from sadness to fright. There was one last gust when the clown jumped up, turned around, and there in the dark was an immense fan directly in front him (but we could not see it) blowing the tissue snow and the hanging drape in his direction. It was a blizzard of white tissue paper! And it overwhelmed the tent! Tissue was in our hair and down our shirts! Everyone watched in amazement as everything and everyone was pulled into this blizzard! It was unexpected and quite fulfilling because we were not only watching the show, but we were part of it.

Immediately following was the intermission. Mom and I went out to the bathrooms. We stood in line together and we discussed the different items for sale. Mom smiled at me and proudly mentioned that she'd bought a red foam clown nose for $3. When I asked her why, she shrugged and replied, "Because you never know when you'll need one."

If Cirque Du Soliel comes anywhere near your area, do yourself a favor and buy a ticket. Because you never know...

When selfishness is beautiful... I want this for me.

"This feels subversive and wonderful. I worked through my entire weekend and it hasn't occured to me once, that I should complain. I don't feel robbed or gipped or cheated. I stayed up proofing and editing last night until 6am, 4am the night before that. It's nearly 4am right now and I just might do the same thing tomorrow. I am not burning out. My heart is flaring up, because I've been put on the earth to do this very thing. And I know that sounds cheesy and mystical, like telling the world I've found my one and only soulmate, but the truth is the truth is the truth." - Jason Killingsworth

A long day at work. My back was killing me. I looked forward to sitting in my car, vegging out as I guided the car along winding roads.

I pulled out of the mall parking lot and pulled up to the car in front of me. Everything around me was blurred and seemingly non-important. All that mattered then was that I was sitting and enjoying the act of being non-active. However, I quickly focused again on driving and looked at the car ahead of me. I soon noticed that the vehicle in front of me wasn't a typical car. It was, in fact, a hearse. However, it wasn't an occupational hearse, with a coffin in the back and hanging black curtains. Rather, it was actually someone's everyday driving car, the one he more than likely drove to work and on daily errands around town. There were several stickers to decorate the haunted bumper. Like "Just one corpse at a time," and "If you get any closer, I'll eat you," and lastly, "I thrive in the dark." Just above the left rear headlight was a satirical Jesus-fish, but with fangs and the word "vampire" in the center.

And I thought the scruffy dog car in Dumb and Dumber was a little "creepy."

I've started packing... And it's caused reality to sink in.

I love reality.

Greatest day yesterday... Fantastic. Wonderful. Beautiful. Amazing. Indescribable. But I'll try to elaborate anyway...

I woke up around 10:30 am and went to the bank to check my PayPal deposits. After which, I left for Marymoor Park where I'd see the Salukis (those dogs I mentioned a while back). They weren't there yet, so I took off back home. I got back around 12:15 or so. I took care of the rest of my PayPal account and I am officially "open for business." I checked my email and saw that I had received an email from a girl who was looking for a roommate at Roommates.com. Her name was Kara and she lives in Mount Lake Terrace, about 30 or so minutes away from where I currently live. I called her up and asked if we could meet somewhere to talk about her place and to see if our personalities would "mesh" at all. She agreed and we made plans to meet around 5:30 pm at a local Starbuck's.

Around 2:30, I left again for Marymoor Park in Redmond. I stopped at Eastside Dog and dropped off one of my paintings (an abstract portrait of a dog) for Sue to hang up and hopefully sell for me. After that, I took off for the park, where I met my mom. We walked around, talked to people, and saw a lot of really beautiful dogs. It was a dog show and it was apparent that these dogs are cared for and maintained more so than any human being I have ever known.

We left just before 5:00, giving me time to head back into town where I would meet Kara. I arrived on time and we talked for 30 minutes or so. She was a smaller girl of 20 years and liked telling me about how her parents "neglected" her growing up. She relied fully on her boyfriend (who apparently has an income of $250,000 a year at some tobacco company) and that she had moved to Washington in order to be with him.

"There may be a few nights where he'll sleep over... Is that okay with you?"

I stare off dumbly as my eyes follow the words "sleep over" and I can only respond, "Sure."

I walked her back to her car and agreed to come over to the apartment and see it for myself. Before she sat in her hatchback and sped off, she mentioned one thing, "Just so you know. You are like my 'back up plan' in case this girl who saw the place last night decides she doesn't want it. Okay?"

"Okay."

I drove home.

I checked Roommates.com again for any emails. I had one. From a girl named Amy living in Kirkland. Originally, Kirkland was where I had wanted to go. Nice town, lots of jobs available, easy commute... It always seemed like a wonderful place to live. Kirkland gives me access to many things, including other towns. I always felt like Kirkland was the hub to all the surrounding cities I like to visit. It's simply great.

So I called Amy and told her I was looking for an apartment. I had read her profile and she seemed like a totally rad chick and I think it'd be worth a shot to see if we could get along. She was the coolest girl to talk to on the phone. Totally laid back and easygoing. I liked her right away and had a great feeling in my gut about it. So much so that I deleted the directions that Kara had given me to the apartment in Mount Lake Terrace just after hanging up the phone with Amy.

So I drove the 10 minutes to Amy's place, met her, and she gave me a tour of the apartment. It's on the bottom floor, it has an excellent living room, two bedrooms, a storage room, and a shared bathroom. Perfect for two girls. Not to mention that Amy and I felt like we'd known each other for years. After she showed me around the place, we sat down on her sofa and watched a little TV. We talked about what we enjoy doing on nights when we don't work (like lounging on the couch and watching a movie) and other things we do in our spare time. Amy loves to cook (this is great, because I hate cooking) and going on walks. I told her I love to write and really love to ride my bike whenever it's not raining. What really affirmed the whole situation was when Amy's friend Jenna (who was staying with her for a few days) came out and saw us together on the couch. She talked with us a bit and suddenly threw up her hands and said, "This is nuts! I wish I could take a picture! It's like you guys have been roommating for years!"

After hugging Amy and telling her our prayers had been answered (another bonus--she's a Christian), I left for home and laughed myself silly the entire way there.

I walked through the front door, saw my brother sitting at the kitchen counter, looked him in the face and said, "Life is wonderful!"

He stared for a moment and a smirk crawled across his face, "I take it you found an apartment."

"Not just that! But a wickedly cool roommate named Amy!"

"Awesome, Car."

"I know!" I said as I frolicked into my room, collapsing onto my bed in pure giddyness.

I was so excited, I had to tell someone else about the whole thing. So I got online and found Ryan there. I told him everything about it and he suggested we do something to celebrate! So we did! And from his house, he took me to Alki Beach (without telling me) and showed me a very secluded and hardly known place. It was quiet and lovely and very reflective. I'm definitely going there again someday. After Alki, Ryan took me to pick up some bubble tea (something I was craving for all day long) and after that, we went back to his place where he made me spinach ravioli, an egg roll, and corn-on-the-cob. It was all delicious and we stuffed ourselves as we watched "High Fidelity" on DVD.

Simply an amazing day and so incredibly fun. One thing after another, and it just kept getting better and better.

Oh yeah... And Kara? The girl I agreed to see her apartment? I called her and explained that my parents weren't "cool with Mount Lake Terrace" and I told her I wanted to call because I didn't want her to keep her hopes up. I think she was just as relieved as I was... So that was just a cherry to add to the top of my day.

Trying to find an apartment, let alone a roommate to go with it, has been one of the most challenging tasks I have ever faced. It would be extremely nice if I could move in with someone I know, but it looks as though I might have to move in with someone I've never met. I'm not entirely sure yet.

I have several options. I could a) find my own apartment and live on my own, b) find an apartment and then find my own roommate, c) find a roommate and then move into their apartment, d) find a roommate and then seek out an apartment together. I'm not sure which would be the best way to go. I'd really like to find out soon, though. Especially since I want to move out before the first week of September is up.

Do me a favor and pray about this, will you? I'm dead-set on moving out and it would be really nice if the whole process were... easier.

Thanks.

My online store is... dying...

I have news! Ryan and I have decided to attain our own personal tattoos. I always wanted a tattoo. Many people like piercings, but they never appealed to me. However, I often find myself staring at tattoos drawn around a girl's belly button or the shoulder blade of some guy. I've always wondered what I would have done if I ever had a tattoo, and I was sure I would design it myself.

So I have done just that. I have started the designing process of my tattoo. Like so many girls out there, I'll place it on the hollow of my back. My tattoo definitely means something to me and I will enjoy explaining it to people.

The sea turtle is incredibly cool. They are beautiful animals often overlooked by humanity. They have a reputation for being "lazy" due to the fact that they're slow-moving on land. However, land is not their natural habitat. Water is. They cut through water as well as any fish. They are graceful and maticulous about their movements. They live for 100's of years. I can only imagine the stories they would have to tell if they could speak. They carry themselves proudly, despite the heavy load of their shell, and they don't stop trying. They're strong, but they're gentle. I find them to be very spiritual in a metaphorical sense.

So...

This is what I have done so far. It's not finished (obviously), but I think this will give you a good idea of what I want done. Tell me what you think.

It's been three days since my last post... If you're a normal person, you are just slightly shocked and disgusted.

Today is my little brother's birthday. The way to my brother's heart is through food, so a giant cheese pizza is on the menu for dinner tonight. One with 16 lit candles.

Mostly, I'm just glad he can get his driver's license and chauffer me around. I've been driving him everywhere for the last three years. Kyle has some making up to do for me. Perhaps I should buy him a suit and cap for his birthday, so to fit the actual chauffer persona I plan to enforce on him... (Kidding.)

Today I experienced a sense of sympathy I have never known before. The sympathy I had may have been unecessary because it seemed that everything was normal and in its place. However, I could not help but wonder and feel concerned for who I saw today.

I went to Qdoba Mexican Grill to see Stephanie and have lunch. She works there as a server (as I did at one time) and we spent her lunch break together. After she prepared my meal (she's the only one who makes my burrito the way I like it), a sea of people walked into the restaurant all at once and all with great appetites. So I had to wait a while before Steph could finally take her gloves off and eat with me.

Sometime during the rush, a girl walked in who I knew immediately. She was a girl from high school. We graduated the same class and I'd known her since the eighth grade. And suddenly, there she was. The last time I'd seen her was at our commencement when she was dressed in a white gown (as we all were) and sitting with the rest of her friends--the ones who were known for their love of beer and weekend parties. There was definitely something different about her, though. In her arms was perhaps a one or soon-to-be one year old little girl. But it wasn't the baby in her arms that shocked me... It was the baby in her stomach that caught me off gaurd.

She was pregnant and it seemed fairly obvious that the baby in her arms was hers also. I searched for a ring on her left ring-finger but found none.

I remembered her name is Bri and I found myself staring in her direction three seperate times. The third time, she caught my gaze and I watched as she shifted the baby on her waist and rolled her eyes. The way she did it reminded me exactly of how it was in high school. Specifically of the time she got me in trouble in the ninth grade with my math teacher. Long story, but it involved fake identities and a substitute teacher... And it was all Bri's fault.

But there she was. One baby in tow and another on the way. She looked at least six or seven months pregnant. There was so much I was thinking, but generally, I didn't know what to think. I was shocked and confused and very much worried about her.

Steph joined me at my table and we caught each other up on life events. Bri sat with her daughter about two tables away, and neither of us said anything about her. However, when they left, Steph turned to me and asked, "Did you recognize that girl with the baby??" I nodded. She continued, "Bri Percival! Can you believe that?!" I shook my head, "No... I can't."

And I still can't.

"Say 'hello' to my little friend!!"



I call him... "Fhqwhgads."

These last few days, I have sat in front of this screen on several different occasions in hopes to write and I have come to the conclusion that I have nothing to say about anything.

I have finally decided now, despite my lack of any real creative juices, to tap out a few words, sentences, and hopefully even paragraphs. I've always said that it doesn't matter if the writer has anything or nothing significant to say, the simple act of writing is what matters and makes any sort of difference.

My head has been a sort of "trail mix" these days. A variety of ideas all mixed together creating one tasty sense of life. Like the snack, I've been eating up the ideas I like most (the m&m's and raisins) and tossing out the rest (the nuts). I realize I'm pushing this analogy, but I rarely ever have any, so I'm going to continue... These last few days, I've started to realize that I haven't been sharing my trail mix with anyone. I've been hogging it all to myself, disgarded peanuts and all. Therefore, I am now going to share.

Here is a list of things I've been thinking about or mulling over.

An update on my state of life and mind.

1.

I have noticed that other bloggers and blogger readers tend to enjoy the life updates of random strangers all over the world. However, it has been important to me for quite some time that I don't write like so many people out there do. I am a writer, not a babbling idiot (generally speaking). Like anyone, I enjoy the occasional rant. But the posts that read as such, "OMG! Jess and I went to the mall today! LOL! It was so cool! And I saw Rob there!! ^-^ I swear! He is the hottest guy! And I think he saw me when we were at Abercrombie! I thought I would die! :P Bye!" How does this mean anything to anyone in the world besides the person writing it? People can do what they want, but I don't have to read it. For which I am eternally grateful.

Nonetheless, the issue of blogging seems to irk people to no end. It seems my mom and sister think blogging is all I do. Like my brother is accused (wrongfully) of playing videogames all day, I am accused of blogging all day. Unfortunately, what they don't see are all the other things I spend my time doing. Like the dicussion boards at WAOL for my online classes. Or I'll have a Word document open to write lyrics to a new song. I occasionally check my eBay account to see if any paintings have sold. Unfortunately, many of the things I enjoy doing are greatly helped by the use of this handy laptop. What makes me frustrated is that my family fails to see everything else behind my closed door. Playing my guitar, singing, painting, writing in one of my many journals, sketching, listening to music, or reading. There are things I do besides blog, but I happen to enjoy those activities most when I'm alone. Just like I see absolutely nothing wrong with my brother playing videogames for an hour or two a day, I see nothing wrong with blogging on a regular basis.

I blog... So sue me.

2.

Working at Eastside Dog has been a very pleasant experience. I am working between 20 and 25 hours a week now (Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday) and the people I work with are extremely nice and understanding. I have met with some realities and also drawn conclusions on rumors I have heard.

Those realities are concerning employee/customer relations and employee/employee relations. Between an employee and customer, it simply is not always and forever a friendly or understanding relationship. People don't get the thing they want or their question is one I cannot answer. They will huff and they will puff and wish like none other that they can blow the small shop down, but that's their problem, not mine. I will do the best I can to help the customer and provide whatever answer I have or I will guide them to someone else if I happen to not know. The best I can do is simply that. Same goes for my relationship between other employees. There is a woman who (still don't know why, starting to not care) likes to complain to my boss about me. Sue has called me three times now to ask me questions about stupid situations I've been accused of causing or adding to. After explaining why I did what I did or clarifying missing links to whatever story she's heard, she hangs up the phone saying, "Oh! Oh! I am so glad I called you! That makes so much more sense! Louann didn't say anything about that! You did the right thing! Thank you, Carly! I'm sorry I called, but I had to make sure." To which I say, "Of course, Sue. I really want to do a good job for you. So I really appreciate you coming to me about it." And peace is restored after we both hang up.

The myths I have made conclusions on are fairly miniscule, but fun to share.

Retail sucks. No, it doesn't. It has aspects that suck, but mostly, it's pretty great. Although, I strongly feel that the fun had working in retrail is strongly based upon where it is you are working.

Walking on tiles all day will hurt your back. More true than you'd like to know.

The customer is always right. No freaking way.

Commission really make the difference for someone paid at minimum wage. Let's just say I wouldn't continue working there if I weren't receiving commission. It makes all the difference.

3.

Family is so interesting to me. Family's can be closely knit together or they can branch out to where there are aunts, uncles, cousins, and perhaps even grandparents you've never met before. I have relatives in Kansas who I have never met and generally have no real interest in meeting. Not that I don't want to, but I simply feel that I could go either way.

My Uncle Dave just called. I answered and it was a blessing to hear him say "Hey, Car! I love ya!" before he even asked me how I was. He's really great like that. And he's in town tomorrow and wants to meet with my mom and anyone else who's available while he's here. My Uncle Dave is an entertainer for a line of cruise ships. He is 15 years younger than my mom, but they are very close. Generally, I don't really like my mom's other two brothers. But I adore my Uncle Dave. Let me put it this way... In the future, Uncle Dave will be the only relative outside my immediate family who will receive a wedding invitation from me. Besides him, I don't want any of my uncles or aunts or cousins to be there. The same goes for my dad's older brother and sister. I barely know either of them. I've met my Aunt Debbie once. I can't remember anything about her except her dog. So why would I want her to come to my wedding?

Basically, I've just been thinking about the different bonds between immediate family members and distant relatives. I don't really feel bad about not liking my uncles or my aunt. I love them like I love any other human being created by God (which would be all people), but there's a difference between loving people the same way God loves them and liking who they are as people.

Generally, that's all I'd like to say for now. It's a lot more than I have been saying as of late. I'd like to write out more thoughts, but I fear I should stop while I'm ahead now.

And I really need to audblog... I miss the sound of my voice through the telephone receiver.

I think I might get one for myself.

Wonderful news. Someone met the reserve price on this eBay painting. I honestly had strong doubts that the eBay thing would work, but now... This is a really great feeling.

Richard D. Bartlett is pushing me to pursue the quasi "self-sufficient bum" (his words) persona that I seem to have been developing lately.

In other words, when someone raised the question, "Who here wants to live their life struggling for money all the freaking time?! Raise your hand if you do!!"

Apparently, I would be the one individual frantically shooting her hand in the air...

However, I have no intention on leaving my current weekend job at Eastside Dog because I rather enjoy working there. The register is really fun and the dogs are pretty fun to watch, too. The whole eBay and the online store thing are just frantic hopes of making extra cash... Not a living.

Speaking of which! My friend Rach just made the first purchase at the online store! She bought the hoodie! The most expensive item! Therefore... She totally rules my world right now.

I am having the most fun creating new logos for the online store.

Due to how the shop shrinks the size of the logos, I will show you what I've done thus far. All images were made by me, including the font. The letters happen to be scanned images of my own handwriting. That was fun to do.

Funny Man.

Mouthful.

Devious Plot.

Sea My Eyes.

See what it's come to?

The Online Store.

I was thinking about vulnerability today. What makes it so wonderful and intensely frightening. There are aspects involved in any sort of relationship that are crucial. Trust. Sensitivity. Communication. Vulnerability, for sure. I see trust, sensitivity, and communication sprouting from the initial ground that is vulnerability. When you are vulnerable, you risk vast amounts of feelings with the other person. Hence the reason why so many other relational goodness's can be found growing from being vulnerable.

Basically, I was thinking about how often people take advantage of others' willingness to be vulnerable, honest, and overwhelmingly open about the things that are truly important. It shouldn't matter what the issue is--God loves us exactly where we are, how we are.

And I just think we should all be doing the same.

"The coolest part was that the entire encounter was just another way for God to talk to me. In a time when my faith was not as strong as I wanted, and fear and doubt were creeping in, I went there to spend time with God and he blessed me in a way I hadn't even thought of." - Ryan Wiedmaier

This is true. How often I forget. My faith always feels strongest when I find myself in deep spiritual conversation with someone who does not believe. Hence why I enjoy non-believers so much. They challenge me to think about the reasons why I believe the things I believe. Why I feel that "my truth" is the "only truth" and so on.

Once again, God feels distant. A perplexing idea I cannot contain; a Being who seems to know me beyond human comprehension; a relationship with which I betray the trust and friendship every single day, seemingly driving that invisible and ever-present wedge between God and me forever deeper...

I work every Sunday morning from 11:00 am to 6:00 pm. Even if I went to the early service at church, I would have to miss the last 20 minutes or so to make sure I'm at work on time. We have a new pastor now and I've heard he's really good. I haven't heard him speak at all. I don't even know what he looks like. I still find myself wishing for Pastor Greg to come back, have a change of heart, to realize that pastoring Redwood Hills was his true passion... Pastor Greg! You need us! Oh, to dream...

Presently, I do not have a church. I do not have the company I wish I had. Right now, I have thoughts. I have my computer where the majority of my thoughts are being poured out. I have my paints and I have my guitar. I have silence and I have solitude. Occasionally, I have a phone call with a friend from outside my bedroom.

Generally, I have everything but the one thing I need. Closeness with my Father. That comes with effort, though... And I've lacked that.

Perhaps I should brush the dust off my Bible and see what it has to say about this kind of thing...

It's Fellowship!

ADVANCE TO WILDERNESS
Do not pass Bethlehem.
Do not earn wage.

Do your best to read the labels. Priceless.

The best part of this is the fact that this Christian version of Monopoly goes so far as to use a "spinner" instead of dice. Just in case...

This was well worth the $2.50 or so that Ryan paid for it... That's right. He even got it on sale!

The following is a conversation between a New Zealand pimp and myself. A brief discussion with this "bloke" from New Zealand is more entertaining than 100 discussions to be had with a genius (which Richard would likely claim to be). I highly recommend.

Richard D. Bartlett says:
so anyway

Richard D. Bartlett says:
yesterday i discovered the best thing since... bread. of any sort

carly says:
Which is?

Richard D. Bartlett says:
theres a little Italian place called Pandoro, its like a bakery but they make their own chocolate and stuff too, boutique sort of spot. my brother and i enjoy their chocolate buns, just bread rolls with huge lumps of chocolate that they heat up for you so the chocoloate drolls down your chinwhen you bite into them...

Richard D. Bartlett says:
well

Richard D. Bartlett says:
after enjoying a herbal cigarette, followed by a jug of beer each, we were a little peckish for some chocolate buns

Richard D. Bartlett says:
however

Richard D. Bartlett says:
they have replaced the chocolate buns with these new things with some italian name that i cant recall but obviously means 'arghllllll mmammmamamm chocolateeeeee'

Richard D. Bartlett says:
they are like 6x3 inches, made of that flakey sorta croissant pastry, filled to overflowing with liquidy and solidy chocolate. served hot

Richard D. Bartlett says:
oh mate

Richard D. Bartlett says:
i just about cried

Richard D. Bartlett says:
the textures... the temperature.. the tastes...

carly says:
I am laughing so hard right now.

carly says:
Can I blog this?

Richard D. Bartlett says:
always

Richard D. Bartlett says:
blog the whole conversation, show the whole world

carly says:
Not the whole conversation. But that chocolate bit was good.

Richard D. Bartlett says:
be my guest

Richard D. Bartlett says:
oi

Care of Art. It takes a while to go through once, but wait for it and then watch it multiple times through. It's fabulous.

I've been bored. So I changed the name... Didn't see this coming, did you?

Nevermind. It just wasn't the same.

There's nothing more aggravating than starting a new song (in this case, I have five) and never finding a good way to complete it. I simply continue to push and try and create and change and still... To no avail. It's just an incomplete song and that is what it will forever be.

I'm really enjoying Damien Rice (thank you for introducing me, Ryan) and their song "The Blower's Daughter" really has a grip on me. If you can check them out, do so. They're great.

Life is kind of... boring right now. It's wonderful in many aspects. Work, school, relationships... But I'm not sure. I don't have anything to blog about, so generally speaking, that makes life kind of boring.

I'll try harder. I promise.

Here it is! My first eBay item for sale! It ends in a week! We'll see what happens.

Just thought I'd add another eBay item! It's my second piece for sale! Hope you guys like it!

I haven't been in the blogging mood lately. I've just been too occupied (mentally) with other things.

Although, I did have one really cool idea that crossed my mind in this last week. Across the way from Eastside Dog (my weekend job), a shop opened for rent. I thought it would be really awesome if I could lease it and turn it into a cafe that hosted acoustic open mic nights. And it would be a place for bloggers of the greater-Seattle area to congregate regularly. What a fantastic place that would be, hmm? A large group of music-loving, keyboard-tapping junkies gathered together in one place to sit around, drink coffee, listen to live musicians, and talk about their blogs.

Paradise.

I kid you not... I spent more than six hours on LiveChat with different eBay personnel trying to figure out why the site would not accept my debit card. In order to become a seller, they require you give a credit or debit card number. I do not have my own credit card, so I tried my debit card. I tried for more than six hours, and there was nothing I could do to make them happy.

Thanks to dear Dad, I will still be able to sell. Dad has his own account already and is going to allow me to use it. Hurrah.

These are my first paintings going on eBay. The first was done in oils and the second in acrylics. I will post the links when I have them uploaded to eBay.

Tonight was the first time I closed the shop by myself. It was fantastic! I didn't struggle at all and I knew the answers to every customer's question. I was calm and cool and handled everything very nicely. It feels great to be able to independently "run" a shop. I mean, I don't know the details behind financing or buying and ordering supplies, but when it comes to customer service... I rule.

Steph and I are seeing a movie tonight. Because it's with Steph, I am fully prepared and proud to say what movie it is we intend to see. From the J to the Lo, it's Gigli and I honestly believe that it's going to be great! I think every Jennifer Lopez movie I have seen have been with Steph. Except for Maid in Manhattan, which I saw with my mom. And it happened to be a movie I despise. I figure if I'm going to see a J-Lo movie, I'd best see it with the one person who'll make it great--Steph.

On a side note, I find myself desiring the Bible. To read it, consume it, and know it. Still, I won't pick it up. I won't even crack the cover. So much of me simply doesn't know where to begin. For many, it's easy. They choose a book, a chapter, or verse and they dwell... They dwell and dwell and meditate and then dwell some more... Somehow, they gain an immense amount of satisfaction and fulfillment from this. For them, I send them a well-rounded "congrats." However, there is still my own fulfillment to be addressed. Or is there really no other way to go about reading the Bible?

I've always disliked reading... My whole life, pretty much. How does a person change an inherited personality trait flaw?

I have a new favorite website. So informative and so much fun.

I have compiled a list of musical influences in my life that have caused me to develop the certain songwriting style I have today.

1. Nick Drake - writer of the song "Pink Moon," the song I obsessed over for a year and a half before finally learning he wrote it. I've picked up on his sultry sound.

2. Switchfoot - I've been listening to them since I was 15 and Jon is lyrical genius.

3. Goo Goo Dolls - Johnny Rzeznik has the same attitude toward music as I do. Same drive to write a song unlike any he's written before. Same self-consciousness and if you listen really closely, you'll notice my voice is very similar to his emotionally.

4. Solas - Mom went to Irland when I was 12 and came back with a Solas album. Somehow, I became hooked on their Irish celtic sound and now own five of their albums. I still need their latest two. The biggest part of the band that has affected me is the female vocalist. Buy any one of their albums and you'll know what I'm talking about.

5. Coldplay - Heard "Yellow" when I was 16 and loved it. Didn't buy their CD Parachutes until I was 17 due to how everyone was so centralized on Christian music and the industry. Chris Martin has a way of transitioning from a low voice to a higher voice very smoothly. He, too, has the "sultry" influence I seem to have obtained.

6. Sarah McLachlan - I've been compared to her three times now and no one knows how happy that makes me feel.

If you can think of anyone else I sound like, comment away. But this isn't necessarily about sounding like anyone. Above are artists that have had the biggest influences on my own musical style. I'm not trying to sound like any one of them, although I don't mind being compared to any... Not in the least.