Tuesday, September 30, 2008
this must be prefaced with a snippet of a conversation between myself and said mother yesterday: (any spanish has been translated for your convenience)
mami: i just can't tell you that...i don't really feel that it's appropriate (referring to my sister)
me: that's not fair mom, i don't even feel like i'm part of the family anymore
mami: don't say that.that's not it at....
me: mom, i have to go now.
me: yea, really. bye.
i know, harsh. to be completely honest, i really just felt like picking a fight that day, and my mother was in the wrong place at the wrong time. although, technically, i'm the one that put her there by calling.
anyway...afterwards, i felt really guilty. my mom is a wise woman, and she tells me everything, so if she chooses not to, it's for a reason.
so, today, i picked up the phone and called her again. she answered like she always does, like a mother who hasn't seen her daughter in years, and lives for every phone call, any sign that I'm still alive. (i don't actually go years without seeing my mother, but you wouldn't know it from the sound of her voice)
she sounds pleasantly surprised, not having expected the call, seeing as i don't usually talk to her as often as two days in a row.
so i tell her why i called...to mend our temporarily broken relationship...and she laughs. (of course, i didn't use those exact words, it was more along the lines of "don't you remember our conversation yesterday?")
the point is that she laughed. she went on to say that it was no big deal...she had already forgotten about it, and that she completely understood that i didn't have time to talk and that i was feeling left out, etc. then she changed the subject and asked me about my day. the conversation went on for a while, and no mention of our little argument ever came up again.
the whole time, i couldn't get over it. i couldn't understand how my mother could forgive me so easily and be completely okay with never bringing up the subject again. i could have called her a week later and she would still have greeted me with nothing but delight.
i love my mother.
and i think God was using her as a little reminder of who He is.
how many times have i wallowed in my mistakes, scared that God hasn't forgotten and that i'm still held accountable?
and yet, everytime i come before Him, my mistakes escape Him. He's just happy i'm there.
Monday, September 29, 2008
why is it the greatest movie known to man? let me count the ways.
1. mr. darcy: pretty much THE perfect man. silent, strong, handsome (not at first, though. he grows on you), humble, selfless, kind, great brother and leader, etc. i know you want me to continue...but i'm afraid i must move on.
2. long-sleeve dresses: because they're amazing.
3. mr. bennet: "good heavens. people." the guy is genius.
4. courtship: none of this dating nonsense. i love you, you love me, let's get married.
5. balls: everyone knows exactly what to do, no "dirty" dancing. just pure magic.
6. mr. collins: because every good movie needs a short, pathetic excuse for a man. no offense, mr collins...but surely you must realize that no one really likes you. not even your wife. (i know, harsh. but quite true)
7. gender roles: men hunt. women marry. it's just so marvelously simple.
8. the liz/darcy downpour scene: pouring rain-unexpected love proclamations-distraught men. where the feelings being expressed are not only illustrated through facial expressions and conversation, but also by the weather.
9. "You have bewitched me body and soul, and i love, i love, i love you": one of the greatest lines known to woman. unfortunately...it has only been pulled off succesfully once.
10. happy endings: because, though you've been told over and over again that no one lives happily ever after, you can't help but believe it anyway.
this extremely short list of wonderful attributes only begins to describe the glory that is Pride and Prejudice (the 2005 version, i'm sure you have already assumed).
all i have to say now pertain's only to you, mr darcy. when you inevitably come to the conclusion that the life you have is not the life you've always wanted, come find me. i'll be here...
A blog. Haha that’s funny. I mean, to me it’s funny…but then again I laugh at everything. All the rest of you bloggers out there, I’m not laughing at you. I promise. In fact, you are inspirations. Kind of.
Anyways. The reason it’s funny is cuz I’m the one writing it. I tried to start a diary several different times in my youth. (I don’t think I’m really qualified to refer to my “youth”, but whatever). So the diary. No success. I remember one day looking back at one of the only entries I’d ever written. The page was bleeding (ooh, great word) with anger and frustration—it even had some pretty offensive diction in it—and the topic was, well, my mom. My dear, beautiful mother. Needless to say, I tossed it out, shocked at my lack of understanding and outright wrong thinking processes.
So why am I starting a blog? I don’t know. It’s not like my life is super interesting or anything. I mean, it’s alright. I guess I just want to try it out. I could love it and do it for the rest of my life…or I could come back a couple of years from now and realize that I was completely confused. It doesn’t really matter.
So. I invite you into my head. Take it or leave it. I wouldn’t really know either way.