papaya problem

It all started with a little shopping trip to the outlet mall with the boyfriend.

However, I first need to give some background information in order to help one better understand the basis for my unfortunate dilemma:

I love love.

Its vastness overwhelms me, its ambiguity intrigues me, its simplicity delights me, and its devotion astonishes me.

Bertrand Russell said "love and knowledge led upwards to heaven"

Nate Cole said "if you need love, take the time and be love"

James Morrison said "love is hard, if it was easy, it would mean nothing"

Haley James Scott said "the only thing wrong with love and faith and belief...is not having it"

Moulin Rouge said "love is like oxygen, love lifts us up where we belong"

Lee McDerment said "it's the battle you fight and the song you sing"

The Beatles said "all you need is love"

Sleeping At Last said "we are made of love and every fracture caused by the lack of love"

Therefore, I believe that:

a) love, in its right form -- selfless and everlasting -- can change the world.

b) love can perfect us, mold us, change us, mend us, teach us, liberate us.

c) without it, we are broken, fractured, and lost.

With that being said I'm sure you have concluded, and rightfully so, that I'm kind of borderline obsessed with this word. And you should be borderline concerned. My bags, my books, my music, my decor -- anything love, I have to get my hands on it. Even my jewelry. Especially my jewelry.

I recently bought a pair of earrings. Now, I really (you guessed it) loved these earrings. Papaya. 50% off sale. How could I not snatch them? I feel as though the oversized hearts successively reflect my adoration for love...right?

I bring them home and instantly show/consult my fellow fashion specialists (sisters) and they proceed to tell me that these particular earrings remind them of a staple accessory popularly worn by girls of a different race. Now, do not misunderstand, I have no problem with this conclusion other than the fact that I wanted these earrings to say "destiny morrow loves love"....do they? could they? can they?

turning over a new leaf

...or whatever the phrase equivalent to "change" may be.

Sometimes I find myself simply living -- forgetting the value of some essentials, or at least some things that will no doubt benefit my contentment. I did a little "soul searching" if you will, and came up with a hefty list.

I will:

- invest in good make-up and wear it

- dress up more frequently

- be a better sister

- be a better daughter

- fight for (and on behalf of) my friends

- take advantage of my gym membership

- do something with my hair each day; try creativity

- read a proverb a day

- stop feeling guilty for buying cute shoes

- be determined to find pairs in brilliant, flashy colors...and buy them too

- never allow Ben to go a day without knowing how I care for him; find ways to show him

- hang up my clothes immediately after I take them off

- strive to be a better role model

- spend quality time with each of my siblings

- send more letters; stay in touch with people who matter

- find time for leisure reading -- no matter how hectic my schedule may become

- stop procrastinating important things such as oil changes and laundry

- be more patient

- worship God with abandonment

- risk more

- be willing to serve others with a ready smile

- do things for my mom without her having to ask

- accept people as they are, even if they do not meet my standard of what it means to be a friend

- perhaps lower those standards...

- love love love love...and when all else fails, love some more

"Because it's only when you're tested that you truly discover who you are, and it's only when you're tested that you discover who you can be" - L. Scott

-d

good music...always makes me cry.

"element" by moses mayfield.

"med sud I eyrum" by sigur ros.

"when a heart breaks" by dave barnes.

"anyway" by martina mcbride.

"to enjoy the effects of music fully, we must completely lose ourselves in it." - jean-philippe rameau

"and as I watch, you start to grow up...all I can do is hold you tight"

How can there be so much beauty is something that has only been living for eighteen months?

I lost faith in the idea that beauty is developed, accumulated over time -- when I look at Anderson, I see beauty in it's most purest and refined form.

His smile.

His laugh.

His mind...although I can't see it working, I know he is learning and embracing details, images, mannerisms, words.

The other day, with baby on my hip, I empty the dishwasher. He points to the coffee mug that I'm putting away and says, "daddy." He makes this connection by seeing my dad drink coffee every morning. Last week, after changing his diaper, putting his pajamas on, reading him his books and singing his songs, I go to put him in his crib. He leans away and distressingly reminds me, "teeth, teeth." I forgot to brush his teeth and he's not letting me get away with it.

His mind is captivating, even humbling.

Each morning...before I face hours of class or hours of work, I bring him up to my room.

We'll spin in circles and attempt walking, listen to "ander's" playlist on itunes, play veggietales computer games, brush our teeth, pick out my outfit together, jump on my bed. I rely on those moments -- those moments when I forget the world and focus on something that truly matters.

Anderson liberates me. He helps me retreat to a place where my happiness is measured by his silly faces and simple communication.

I once was reminded to embrace my inner child. I was told that every person should try to tap into a child's mind -- watch them and follow them, learn to giggle with them and put forth effort to understand them.

But after falling in love with an 18 month old beautiful baby boy...

I have realized: maybe we need not understand them at all.

Perhaps we only learn from them.

And (to allude to poet Robert Frost) perhaps that will make all the difference.

'cause without you, things go hazy

From the moment I walked through the front door at 8:45 am and saw you laying on the couch - groggy with adorable bed-head - to the moment you stood on my doorstep at 11:30 pm and whispered those parting words: I'm so happy you chose me, I was deliriously happy.

"I miss yous" - now in bulk

You two live in Harrisonburg together...which makes me jealous. I miss you both.

You're with your boyfriend all the time. When he's off work, I'm forgotten. I miss you.

You pretend like I don't exist. But I still think the world of you. I miss you.

You and I go to and from class together. It's not enough. I miss you.

You live 3000 miles away. It's not fair. I desperately miss you.

You're at college and moving on. I miss you.

You make me happy every single day. When I'm not with you, I miss you.

You are 7 hours away. I miss you.

You live in Texas. Without me. I hate it. I miss you.

You girls are growing up and making friends. I miss you.

I just don't want to be lonely alone.

Summer 2009: "another sun soaked season fades away"

This summer I took some chances.

I learned that some friendships aren't forever.

This summer I met him. Some would argue, but I truly never saw the beauty of his heart & mind and so - I insist that I never knew him.

I realized diversity is beautiful. And easy to accept.

This summer I felt beautiful again, and then I felt inadequate.

I painfully lived without my best friend for two months. I still don't know how.

This summer I longed to be understood...and oftentimes, not.

I fought change with flailing arms and all the stubbornness I could muster - and I lost.

I watched hours of One Tree Hill, my soul food.

This summer I discovered new music.

I embraced family.

I chose to believe in someone.

I, surprisingly, didn't read a single book.

I dedicated myself to my sisters.

This summer I didn't try so hard.

I found inspiration from my deep and contemplative cousin.

I reluctantly but rightfully allowed someone else the freedom to make me happy.

This summer I traveled north, south, east, and west.

I saw things that made me feel like such a small part of the world, and then I saw things that showed me how significant I truly am.

This summer I finally saw a shooting star. In fact, I saw 100 of them.

I took on a role in which I was initially uncomfortable - it was good for me.

I reunited with family that I hadn't seen in 10 years. I will never be able to go that long without them again.

This summer I didn't highlight my hair.

This summer I made art.

I recognized that honesty is optional for some people...I value those who are honest with me.

I watched my best friend fall in love; I watched her eyes light up and heard her voice break as she talked about her future with him. Unknowingly, she instilled hope inside this antsy & romantic soul.

This summer I chose my college, ultimately choosing my future - a big and scary step.

I decided I don't care. While I don't have a place where I strategically fit into this society, I have a place where I fit into my family.

This summer I listened to Sigur Ros, Daughtry, The Classic Crime, Taylor Swift, Matthew Perryman Jones, Tyler Hilton, and Dashboard Confessional.

This summer Ben Rothwell happened to me. My boyfriend, my best friend, and the quiet and steady pulsing music of my life.

This summer I did some embarrassing things:

I watched Mary-Kate and Ashley movies with my bff.

I visited a town where a fictional book takes place.

I got the Jonas Brothers cd and Hannah Montana movie soundtrack.

This summer I found my "first dance" wedding song.

I went to a volcano.

I was spoiled by my boyfriend.

I didn't worry about gas, I just drove.

I saw snow in July.

I watched my favorite movie.

This summer I regretfully and unfortunately didn't go to Texas.

I took part in an epic 2 am slip & slide adventure with my beloved cousins.

I realized everyone on my mom's side is musical.

This summer I trusted. I put myself out there. I relied on Jesus.

"Don't wait, don't wait

the lights will flash and fade away

the days will pass you by

don't wait

to lay your armor down" - Dashboard Confessional