there's no place like home

It is so good to be home! I got back a little over a week ago, and though it's been cold (even some snow oddly enough) and rainy every day since, I've thoroughly enjoyed it. And even though I still have two weeks here, the time is passing quickly and I'm afraid those two weeks are going to go so fast...actually, I know they will, I just have to make the most of them and slow them down a bit! As far as being social, I really haven't done much at all. My family and my boyfriend are my priorities right now with so little time at home. I would like to see one or two close friends though before I leave. Can I say how wonderful it was to see my boyfriend, J., after nearly 4 months? To be able to look at his face when we talk and hold his hand...I don't think there's anything better. And seeing my family again, especially my brothers. They have grown every time I come home and while it's neat to see, sometimes it feels like I'm missing out. But I guess that's the price I pay for going to school out of state. Three more semesters and I'll be done *hopefully*-that will be the day! More later!
-Me

a truth

-I'm not as innocent or naive as I may look or seem.

This is hard for some people to understand. When people take advantage of me, I am fully aware that they are doing so. I just don't point it out, figuring that ignoring the problem and doing what someone wants, will get said person out of my hair more quickly and painlessly. Unfortunately, it keeps the door open for them to come back to take advantage again.

Maybe I should stand up for myself more.

I've been weighing the pros and cons of reacting negatively to users, and over time, I've gotten less tolerant, but I'm still what most would consider a "doormat". For a long time I enjoyed my status as the perceived "good girl"-the girl who didn't take risks, who trusted and believed everyone (at least outwardly-I've always been a cynic at heart), taking them at their word without questioning...but as I've grown up, that has changed.

Maybe I'm losing something of myself, or maybe I'm becoming myself.

Either way, the label, "that bitch" (pardon my language-not sure I can think of a better term for the idea I'm trying to convey) is sounding nicer everyday.

I'm not sure how all of this meshes with my Christian faith (Can the labels "bitchy" and "Christian" co-exist in one person?). I know that we are called to love unconditionally, in the same way we are loved unconditionally, but where is the line between loving and becoming a worn-out carpet? Jesus loved, but he didn't put with crap and called out those who would trample the helpless.

I'm not real sure where I am going with this blog, but it is something that has been on my mind for the past week. Something that my roommate and I have been discussing too because we've both spent our lives putting up with life-suckers. And to get back the the original statement, I'm not innocent-I've done my share of rabble rousing (not something I'm proud of, but something I will admit). I'm also not naive. I've traveled, I've lived, I've seen many things and not much shocks me these days. I've heard all kinds of things and I'm no stranger to problems; being the friend in the group that everyone always went to to share life's ailments, and it's given me an education in how people think and deal with things.

I guess I just don't appreciate it when people assume things about me and expect me to do things for them based on their perception of "Oh, she's the nice, sheltered girl, she won't know that I'm taking advantage of her"...I'm tired of bowing down and falling into the perceived stereotype just because I don't want to cause problems or go against the grain...I suppose the real question for me to be asking myself is:

Why don't I want to cause problems if this is such an issue?

That is a topic for nanother post. I just eeded to get this out. Oh and by the way, this is why my blog is titled "Red Boxes Open"-It's attempt at honesty-going places that are "taboo" or generally off-limits. Skirting around the ragged edges of life is not living, it's evading an inconvenience.

-Me.

an ode to procrastination

Procrastination, you're no fun,
Procrastination, you help no one.
Procrastination, I'd rid myself of you,
But it seems there's always something better to do.
Procrastination, my song is sad.
Procrastination, I feel real bad.
Procrastination, you wear me out...
"Hey there! Why sure, I wouldn't mind doing something else."
Procrastination, I'd dump you for self-control...
But procrastination, you just won't let go.
So here I sit, alone with you,
Wishing for a minute free from guilt.
But you just take, and take and take,
I'm now 13 minutes late...r than I would have been,
If I'd not written this poem instead.


I've been on Thanksgiving break since Tuesday night. Tonight is Sunday night. I have two, 10 page papers to write, due next week. Did I write them, or even start on them? No. Did I intend to? Yes. I even sat down at the computer a few times and attempted to start them, but frankly, my heart is not in my school work, which is quite unfortunate for my grades. Why are the longest papers always due at the END of the semester? Here's hoping for a very fruitful evening.

going home

The fall semester here at school is about over, and I couldn't be happier. I cannot wait for the day I get to fly home (the pnw) and

-hang with family
-spend time with my guy
-sleep in my *own* bed
-pet my dog...yes, I realize how lame that sounds...
-just be HOME

It's odd to me that each time I go back, it's harder to say goodbye again when it's time to leave. After four years, it would only be logical to think that the process would get easier. It doesn't. Thinking about coming back so soon makes me sad...and I haven't even left yet.

not a child

My roommate and I recently started taking turns reading a children's book to each other every night before bed. For childhood's sake. Two nights ago, we had an epiphany. And it was a sad epiphany. As we read Pizza For Breakfast, we sarcastically made comments about genies appearing in real life, and about Frank and Zelda's stupidity. As Ashley finished reading the story, it occured to me that our critical remarks proved that we have lost our innocence . A true kid would never criticize the varying lengths of Frank's beard, or entertain the thought that the "little man" was creepy. A true kid would get lost in the story and delight in the pictures and never once think about the improbability of genies and happy endings. There is something that sets a child's mind apart from the adult mind and I now believe that I know what it is.

pb n j

I sat on the floor in my dorm room today and ate peanut butter and jelly out of the jars with my fingers (for sheer pleasure of being childish). And I thought about how good they were-the peanut butter and jelly, not my fingers. And I thought about how thankful I was for them. And then I thought about how much I hated peanut butter and jelly when I was in high school. I also spilled jelly on the new carpet.