The Other Side

Sooo I'm on Facebook a little too much. A lot too much. I guess I am... considering I started calling it "checking my email" to justify why I'm there. Sometimes that's true. Not often. And I start a lot of books and don't finish them. I am not that great at working alone- I lack that inner drive to rise to the top (considering there's no one to beat), unless it's an easy road and then consider me there! I could be a stay-at-home-person always. I don't get bored and love starting little projects. I'm pretty proud. And by saying "pretty" proud I'm defending my pride. So I should just say "I'm proud." I love to eavesdrop and snoop and be in the inside of a situation. I could eat cookies, brownies, ice cream and frappucinos for every meal if it wouldn't make me amazingly sick. I am addicted to shows like The Bachelor and if my Netflix wasn't publicly shared with some other people I would probably be watching "16 & Pregnant" too. I only workout to be thin, and not to be healthy. I don't really love hiking or running or dirt, although I really, really want to and sometimes enjoy when I do. Sometimes I wonder if I have a relationship with Jesus or my subconscious because I talk all day to myself, but can I call that prayer? I do not collect much clutter but my Achilles heal is: pencils, tissue paper, ribbon, craft paper. I cannot throw them away. I could probably listen to the same 5 songs for the rest of my life and be just fine. I love to move, to pack, to organize, to unpack, to nest. I wonder if one place will ever feel like "the" home or if I'll feel like every place was a little bit of home. When I was little I'd sneak spoon fulls of sugar, powdered sugar, and brown sugar (not spoon fulls of brown sugar, I'd just look in the carton for the chunks and eat those). I'd like to say I'm different since I'm older, but now I just eat too many desserts or "test" whatever I'm making. I could sleep 10 hours each night, and sometimes do. And if I wouldn't feel guilty, I would also take a nap along side that. And when a friend told me everyone is racist, I've avoided thinking about that certain comment because it's easier to pretend I'm not. And that makes me really, really ashamed and sad and very, very small and embarrassed in the eyes of our Creator.

Having a blog is an interesting thing. Similar to Facebook, you portray the version of yourself you want to. I called this entry "The Other Side" to attempt to normal me out. Now I don't think you, the reader, thinks of me as some sort of heroine. But I only post the comment-worthy things on here. Not the boring things like my generic brand of nail polish remover and how often I clean out the food in my fridge.

So here's to normal. To boring. To regular. To life.

And here's to facing the tough reality that the road to achieve perfect is frustrating and incomplete. We're all a little wacked out and that's all right.

And lastly, here's to mending those wacked out things about ourselves that need some good thought and attention. To those things that we push into the corners of our mind so we're not inconvenienced by their truths.

With love from El Centro,

Paige