As you wish

I’ve been a lot of things lately. I’ve been a teapot; that was a lot more than I wanted. Short, stout, but also warm and hot tempered. They always leave the last part out, but that’s okay, some of us need tea (with not too much honey and not too much milk).

I’ve been a starfish; it’s good to regenerate. Someday I want to teach other’s to grow new limbs, because we can all be starfish. At least, I think so. But the starfish thing is important. Although my ego often feels like a many headed hydra, if I can put it in perspective, it’s much more like loping off the arms of a starfish. Plus, if we didn’t cut some things out, how could we grow back better ones??

I’ve been a Sleeping Beauty. I don’t mean the stupid kind that waits to be kissed; I’ve tabled that crap for now (as in, at least this week, lol). I mean Briar Rose, out gathering stupid strawberries that no one needed, singing to squirrels and dancing with thin air. Who cares though, because the squirrels are pretty undervalued and at least they dance like squirrels. I may be in a world of my own, but it hardly makes a difference I think. I really just want to blend into the dirt anyways and look up at the sky, and scamper across bridges that are actually crosswalks, and generally run through groves of trees for the fun of it and sing in public. Check, check, check, check, and check. Now to make that happen every now and again, not just once or twice. But hey now, patience is key.

You know Cinderella? Yeah, well, that used to be my favorite Disney movie. It’s kind of god awful, if you think about it. The girl is abused, like, physically, psychologically, emotionally abused and she finally escapes and runs after a guy. I can understand the extra incentive. She was pretty happy singing to the squirrels and birds and mice as a domestic servant. It never bothered her. I’m not really sure why she picked the ball, though. I’d have to watch it again. The fairy god mother makes her beautiful, but you know what, she should have just made her free. It would have cut the story in half, but she just jumps from one role to the next, and it’s so sad to me. Drew Barrymore did Ever After much better. It’s much more beautiful and ridiculously dramatic but also adorable. The rock paper scissors part is the greatest. And supposedly she was a Cinderella of France. I want to go to France. But hey now, patience is key.

I’ve been a porcupine. I don’t mean the adorable, wash-it-with-dawn-dish-soap-and-watch-it-sneeze-on-youtube kinda porcupine, I mean the porcupine that curls up into a little adorbs-nosed little ball and makes it impossible to touch her. That’s okay though. Porcupines uncurl, and I hear they even have little porcupine-lets, or whatever the hell we’re calling offspring of porcupines these days. I would like to raise a herd of porcupine-lets. Maybe I’ll just care for other baby porcupines until that can happen. Because you know what? Patience is key.

If you haven’t been able to figure out by now, I REALLY HATE WAITING FOR THINGS. Not traffic. I’m in my own happy world when I drive and I sing and I drive. Not failing classes. I withdrew from a class today and I had to decide then and there. I was only gonna get up to a 48% tops, and I was at like a 31%. I didn’t realize how far behind I had become, and I was really tragically upset. So, like any sane person, I walked to find a friend in my old residence hall, and we shook it off to Taylor Swift until it never mattered in the first place. The only reason they put that crap in movies is because everyone wishes it would really happen and isn’t ballsy enough to actually do it. But my friend Michelle and I did it loudly in public, and you wanna know what? It was the best kind of therapy.

But seriously, the waiting. It’s not just waiting. I can be pretty patient if I have to. If I know why I’m being patient, mostly. That isn’t even true, though. Knowing helps, but only because it gives it structure. If I knew how long I was waiting, that might help. If I knew that waiting would be best, then that would just mean that I finally have decided to seriously listen, and I’m still working on that, by the grace of God. Life could explode and I would still be waiting, and I hardly care. But I do care. I care because I just do. And it’s okay to care, but sometimes caring is waiting. And frick, I hate waiting.

What do you do when you’ve just discovered that some things are worth waiting for? Well, I suppose nothing, that’s the point. What do you do when you’ve decided to turn off the part of your brain that is screaming WHATTHEHELLAREYOUTHINKING at like maximum volume 24/7? I suppose you scream back, or you let it scream itself tired and then you keep waiting.  You can tuck it to bed like a toddler, and then you can sleep too. It’s hard to be a single-parent to a crazy sense of RUN. I don’t really care what anyone says, chasing around that stupid emotion is a full time job. You think you’ve caught up with it, and then BAM, you’re up a tree like a stranded cat and you’re like, “At what point did I think this was a good idea?? Whatever YOLO. HELP!”

On the bright side, I can care for my Pomeranian Ella better now. She has always tried to get my attention; I just thought she was barking. False. Ella likes to run. She likes to rip on Teddy’s ears til he squeals, and they sleep in curls together in the bean bag chair and he takes care of her by licking her eye gunk.  Teddy can chill by himself until he comes and finds me in my room and curls up in my lap sporadically. He likes having his face rubbed, and he likes to nuzzle into my chest because he’s adorable. When we’re playing he’ll run around and roll with me like a turtleworm, at least when I let them jump me to the ground. Ella is not like that. Ella will bark at you when you walk in the door until you pay attention to her. She will barkmoan at the mailmen when she thinks you aren’t around. She will pose intentionally to be included in my selfies, and she likes to piss on the kitchen floor not because she should, but because she can get away with it. They have a little doggy door, and I’ve been trying to make them go outside more consistently when I get home, like my mom started to do with them. Ella likes being chased like I like being chased, but Ella LIKES CHASING EVEN MORE. Today she drug me outside and I ran out the door and off the steps, and she ran off her dog ramp that my mom had built because she hates waiting and won’t go down the steps (#diva), and I ran and she chased me and then they both chased me and I chased them and mimicked the same kind of crap they do AND THEY LOVED IT. Teddy likes to hide in the bushes and burst forth like a demented 4-wheeler/rabbit, and ella likes to hunt him and attack his ears. But guess what?? They both like to chase me because then they can catch me and jump me to the ground. Who knew.

Ella is kinda strange. She likes to get so close to your face that you can feel her whiskers and snifflesnort as she stares you into the eyes like a socket wrench, and then lick you once on the nose and cuddle or jump on you. She will judge you if you don’t pay attention to her, she has dramatic noises she uses to let you know that she is over it. She will walk off. She will pout. She will rub her butt in circles on the carpet, trying to catch your attention. She will do this thing where she barks and whips her head back and forth trying to catch eye contact. And then she will get pissed and crawl up under the bed, and you have to lie on your back and beckon her out. She takes her sweet time, let me tell you. I have to play dead sometimes. But she comes out, and curls up next to me if she is tired, or she does the snifflesnort thing from the top. If you’re lucky, she’ll still her tongue up your nose (not exaggerating) and you’ll have to push her away, and then she’ll try to play with you all over again. It’s a very repetitive cycle, you see. It’s all the same crap. But now, she can run off some steam and chase me with teddy, and that makes her calmer. When I am most upset, I come get her (she has this head-cocked concern without fail) and when I am seriously not okay, she comes and finds me and cuddles me without saying anything until I’m mostly asleep. When she is upset or feels deprived of attention, she comes and finds me and jumps against the side of my bed so I will pick her up and put her on the bed. And then, we cuddle til I’m mostly asleep, and then I ignore her, and she goes to the edge of my bed to make sure I’m okay with sleeping without giving her any more attention, and then she jumps off my bed (too high, but what can I say, no patience). Sometimes she’ll come into my room and I’ll have to lift her on to my bed half awake. Ted does a running jump, and sleeps in the crooks of my knees. Ella barks until I pick her up, searches for attention, and then curls up legs butterflied at the edge of the bed, trying to watch out my window when she’s awake and I’m not to protect us all. Ted could sleep through a world war. Ella wakes up at 4am and tells imaginary raccoons to scuttle the hell off our property because she never sleeps ears off. And even though they are both really different, they both love to chase me. Who knew.


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I am a second-grade teacher and pastor-to-be who loves people. I spend my weekends with friends or wandering the museums of DC alone and with a journal, trying to put words on the places of the soul that still feel wordless. I spent most of my days at school trying to learn patience through my students and running on sheer nerdy passion. I follow Jesus Christ, and savor that as my most important identity--that I am a child of God, as are infinite others, regardless of their other identities. Christ is my one thing.

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