The Five for Five Combo.

So today, after a few hours of sleep, some empanadas, and an escapade to ikea under my Sunday belt, I shall write a new post, hopefully more sane than last night's. I can only hope so. Because I was a bit out of it last night. I was very tired.
But in this morning's light, I was a little bleary-eyed, but I had my wits about me. For a good twenty minutes I chose to lay in bed and stare at my ceiling. I grabbed my laptop and hummed to myself as I thought about what I had seen that night. My dreams. I slunk downstairs for a hot cup of tea and carried it up to my room where I got back in bed. Where I thought some more.
My mind began to work. I sipped and checked my e-mail, and wondered. My thoughts were, at this point, in a whirlwind. And I had only been up for half an hour.
As the storm inside cleared, I found myself wondering about life stories again. I remembered when I was younger, middle school age, writing on my MySpace page about how you never really knew anyone until you listened to what they had to say, or that everybody's life story was worth knowing. And I've, throughout the years, further validated this by experiencing it first hand. I have met so many new people since those small days at Clark. I've learned, especially this year, how important it is to simply talk with the people you know and love. How important it is to lend an ear to the things that don't get heard the most. And not only listen well, but speak of yourself also. Tell your experiences. Express the way you feel about things. Develop your opinions and morals into what you want them to be. What you feel is right. Because we're all becoming adults. Some of us a little faster than others. But we all arrive there at some point.
Anywho. To get to my point, I believe that trust and loyalty are key to all things in life. Believe me when I say that actually listening to somebody and saying things back gets a lot done.
Amazing amounts done.

So, I'm off to the church. Off to accompany my youngest sister to her first reconciliation class. Going to sit and learn with her. Going to try and not fall asleep.
I remember that day. Sitting in the gym with my mom during my first class. Gripping my very first rosary, staring into the infinate space that was wherever we were. And I could of never imagined then where I would be today.
It's been so long since then. I can't believe that it's my turn to teach her.
It's a little frightening, because I'm not the best of teachers.
But this is one challenge I'm more than willing to take.

Pancakes, Nighthawk, and The Never Ending Mudhole

It's hard not to say that today had to have been one of the best Saturdays of my school year so far. I mean, when you get to spend the whole day with people you spend...well, almost every day with, it never really gets old. There's always some new thing that goes on.
When we arrived at Myers this morning, I just felt disaster in my bones. There was a quake of some sort of horrific hill training throughout my body. But I was very pleasantly surprised. Running the course today was probably one of the most fun things ever. I love feeling like some sort of land-surveyer, trekking this way and that, examining every little thing on the path that we've decided to take. Although, today our trail was actually marked. We were checking out the specs for any last minute notes. Districts are in a few days. I'm not quite ready. But then again, I am. It makes absolutely no sense. But you get the gist.
Shoes. Socks. Sweatpants. All soaked, saturated, and soiled. I cannot describe the nasty feeling of gushing water and mud from the meshing on your running shoe uppers. Almost everywhere on that map should of been circled, squgglied, or marked. That mud was everywhere. That sucking, clicking kind of mud. The kind that eats your shoes. The kind I'm sure would growl at you if it wasn't inanimate. [Does that not sound frightening all of the sudden?]
But it's what we live for. Another reason why my five year love affair with running has caused me to fall so heavily for it; I just can't get away from the way it makes me feel.
Ihop, oh dear God, Ihop. It's one resturant we all can agree on. New York Cheesecake pancakes, crispy hash browns, and Tabasco covered scrambled eggs. How does that not sound delectible? We failed at taking some pictures, and stealing hats, and seperating tickets on the check. But remember, reader, who I'm writing about. The Liberty Cross Country program. We're a little crazy. But any other way, and it would be no fun.
I also had the opportunity of riding around in Danielle's [name sounds familiar, don't it?] Jeep all morning long. And I have to say we'd make a hilarious pair of road-tripping kids if we ever had to. Just imagine two jittery, frazzled girls with a map and a shifty trying to make it to some sort of destination. That would be us. Oh, the hilarity.
But I digress.
We made a short stop to the nearest toysrus to pickup a Raggedy Ann doll for one of Danielle's friends before making it in one piece to the Satrio manor, where we made some pretty amazing district tees. My name: Nighthawk. Amazing, thank you. I know. I love it.
No, but in all seriousness, those t-shirts were awesome! And we had a great time making them. Semi-losing Bevo [the dog], watching football, nicknames, pizza, and prefering it on the floor.
Let me also note that the last sentence just read pretty much sums up our season. Insanely entertaining, amazing, and a little crazy.

Now, let me explain, that it is now one-eleven am on Sunday morning. I'm feeling crazed and tired, so this post may make no sense at all. I may just be running my mouth about the day's events. But, isn't that what this blogging thing is all about? It's the Godzilla form of Twitter, only more like narritive style for me.
By the way...I don't use Twitter.
I do not tweet ;]
But for those who do. Keep tweet'n on.
Wow. I'm so tired, I went on a tangent about Twitter.
I'm going to bed now. Going to dream about the possibilities of what my life could truly mean. I've already found my purpose, so now I must dream about whatever could happen. And from what I've seen lately, life can only go up from here.
Not that it's not amazing already.
Because I don't think I'd have this living any other way.
But we'll save that for another post.

Goodnight everyone,
I'm falling asleep in a bundle of blankets and George Strait.

dim the lights.

I'm climbing that hill again. That steep, epic hill towards this final state of content. Something I usually achieve around December. It's this place where I can't really describe the feeling. It's this constant free fall feeling that never seems to go away. This feeling of invincibility that makes my thoughts float endlessly through the November sky.
I say November because that's when this normally starts. But this year, it's earlier. This year- it's different.
Lately I've been caught on my laptop in dark spaces of the house. I seem to blend in, as if I'm wearing some drywall for camouflage, sitting with my headphones and whatever else seems to follow me that day. The rain and gray air have contributed to my placid and relaxed feelings. Growing more reminiscent each and every day, much earlier than usually intended. And everything seems to jog my memory, from the cologne in a jacket sleeve, to the music on a forgotten playlist. A sudden text from a friend you hadn't seen in months. Talking about missing you and everyone else back home. It makes you wonder. Even finding things out about people you thought you knew. Things that make you even closer than what you may have initially thought you'd end up being.
I guess that brings up another point. I've recently been introduced to another feeling of life: detachment. No, friends, I'm not going dark on you. I've just felt so busy, and having a car really gives you so much more opportunity to be away from the people you know and love. When I unlock the door to my house I realize that I'm alone. I've never experienced this. I've always been surrounded by people. And now I've found solitude some days after school. Time to stretch my thoughts up and out. Time to ponder what I shouldn't be thinking about. Things that make me think a little too much. Things that make me so nervous, I require a short glass of chocolate milk and animal crackers.
Because these things have become my comfort food when the light in the kitchen turns yellow. When it gets much too late on a Saturday night. When there's a thick soundtrack of snoring and a variety of other house-sounds in the background. When I can sit and sigh and stare. And then go back to sleep.
So far, things are going smoothly. Not all as planned. But very smoothly. I guess when you start getting older, and realizing that you'll be leaving soon, you start to notice the little things you took for granted and passed over before. And I'm stumbling over these things, good and bad, that I'm being told are growing me up and opening my eyes to an adult world that I once misunderstood.
I'll be quiet and robotic until November rolls around. I have bouts of laughter and smiling, angst and defeat. That's for now. But when those skies grow wispy, jackets out and eyes above, I'll crack the biggest smile and take the deepest breath of the purest air I wait forever to fill my lungs. The dusty winter air that bleeds back into the atmosphere as thin rings of smoke.
Until then, I'll be racing to December's light.