american honey.

"she grew up on the side of the road. where the church bells ring and strong love grows. she grew up good. she grew up slow, like american honey. steady as a preacher, free as a weed. couldn't wait to get going, but wasn't quite ready to leave. so innocent, pure and sweet. like american honey. there's a wild, wild whisper blowing in the wind, calling out my name like a long lost friend. oh, i miss those days at the years go by. oh, nothing's sweeter than summertime, and american honey."

--> lady antebellum, "american honey"

i have been thinking about my life in the last several days. about what has led me to where i am right now. it seems really deep, but it's actually been simple.

life events might seem really random as they are happening to you. but that isn't the case. i learned in my novel class last spring that if a bunch of things happen in row, readers are going to assume they are connected. for instance - if there is a tornado, and then someone's house is destroyed, and that someone moves to a different city - people are going to assume that event a caused event b, which in turn caused event c. that's life. now, it's a little more confusing if the story goes more like this - i break up with my long-term boyfriend, then i find out i have vertigo, then i get really depressed, then i apply to grad schools, then i decide to live my life to the fullest, then i move to the south. haha. i'm pretty sure my breakup didn't cause my vertigo; i'm positive the vertigo didn't cause the depression; the depression did not make me apply to grad schools; and so forth. but as a whole, the events of my life were not entirely random. they led me here.

"for every stoplight i didn't make. every chance i did or i didn't take. all the nights i went too far. all the girls who broke my heart. all the doors that i had to close. all the things i knew, but i didn't know. thank god for all i missed, because it led me here to this."

--> darius rucker, "this"

here i sit, at my cluttered ikea desk, on a new thinkpad computer. behind me is a full size bed covered in green leafy sheets and a green and white comforter. so my left is a walk in closet filled with my clothes. to my right is a nightstand piled high with an alarm clock, a green lamp, my soon to be well-worn copy of the hunger games, and a biochemistry book. i'm in north carolina. i'm in my apartment. i live here, in this place so far from home. and yes, it's been hard. adjusting isn't my strong suit. a couple of entries ago, i compared it to putting my gear on right side first - an analogy of routine that i got from a good friend of mine. that's what i'm looking for - that routine. it's coming. once my classes get underway, i'm going to feel like it's college all over again, but with more lab, less working meaningless jobs, and more intense classes. oy.

i haven't been homesick for minnesota. that makes me sound terrible, but listen. minnesota will always be my home. i've never missed it, because i've always been able to claim that as home. my license plates were minnesota. my driver's license was minnesota. i'll always be a twins fan, i'll always hate the packers, i'll always knock iowa. i'll always be able to skate with more grace than i walk. i will always be able to say with pride that i grew up on the banks of the mississippi, and that red wing shoes are manufactured in my hometown. my family is still there. there will always be a reason for me to go back, if and when i miss it. my ties to minnesota are and always will be strong. so no, i haven't been homesick for red wing. i've already been away for 4 years. and i go back, a couple times a year, and remember why i feel privileged to have grown up there.

i'm homesick for hope college. i miss michigan, because soon, i'll have close to no ties to that place. my friends who are still there will graduate and leave as well. that campus was my home for 4 years - 4 amazing, emotional, extremely challenging and rewarding years. if i could be anywhere in the world right now, i would choose dr. peaslee's lab in the middle of july. that was when we were the closest as a lab group - before the worries that came from moving and leaving and forgetting. i will never forget that place, but i have a depressingly exceptional memory for events, and people. everything that i am right now - grad school, especially - is because of hope. i'd be nowhere without hope. most of the friends that i keep in contact with, i met there. i loved it there. i'll be back maybe once more. i'm planning a trip in january, to see everyone that i associate with that place just one more time. after that... there will be nothing left for me in michigan, except for the smattering of friends in places other than holland - wherever they end up settling. many of them will leave. i did.

hope college, to me, is american honey. when i hear that whisper in the wind, i know it's calling me back to hope. hope - where i grew up, where i lost myself and then found it again, where i made mistakes, and had those nights where i went too far, and took some chances and passed on others. where i met so many of the amazing people in my life. where my soul is, right now. i am going to wager a guess that a little part of my soul is always going to be on hope's campus: under the shade of the trees in the pine grove, at the base of the granite of the chapel, flitting among the vials of sediment in lab, and floating through the throngs of students in the kletz. it's where i belong. and maybe, someday, i'll belong here too. but i know this for certain:

when i find this elusive man of my dreams, the one that people keep telling me will come along in time, the one i just need to be a little more patient for - i'm going to take him to two places in the north. i'll take him to minnesota, because my family is there, my roots are there, and target field is there. but i'll also take him to holland, michigan. because while i never officially became a michigander, my soul still wanders the criss-crossing sidewalks of the campus of hope. and if someone wants to spend his life with me, he's going to need to know where my heart is, and why i am the way i am. it's because of hope. i'm still am, and always will be, anchored in hope.

"we're not done yet, not going quietly into the night, not me and my friends. we're not done yet, don't take it too seriously. it's just life, we'll win in the end."

--> superchic[k], "not done yet"

"we're a family."

i know i'm loved. that is not in question here.

i feel myself regressing. back to where i was in the fall. back to when i wasn't sure the day to day was worth the pain. back to when i didn't have so many people to lean on, to when i got through each day by planning out what i was going to watch on tv that night. i was a recluse. and i am feeling that way yet again. only this time, i can feel it coming. this time, i have a huge support system behind me.

the problem here is that my support system is 700+ miles away. north, way north, on the other side of a "mountain" range and the mason-dixon line. words are all right. they are comforting for the time being. emails from friends, texts, chats - they help me get by, because i know i'm not alone. however... it's not enough.

i need to see people's faces. everyone keeps saying "let's talk tomorrow," and then tomorrow comes and goes with the promise of talking tomorrow. i wish people could see what i know about life. sometimes there are no tomorrows. we're not promised a tomorrow. i've been on that borderline. i've flirted with not wanting a tomorrow. i want it now, and i can see that i'm falling, yet again, into the hole where the tomorrows all blur together into darkness. i don't want it to happen, but the thing about holes is that i don't have a choice. gravity happens. i am so often the victim of gravity.

i hate this. it is coming at the tail end of a perfect summer. i don't have time to feel this way. i have too much to do. i have homework to do and papers to read and insurance to buy and license plates to transfer and a life to live. but none of that matters, once i begin approaching the hole. all i can do is stand there, and stare into the darkness. i'm immobile. i can't concentrate. all i ever think about is how alone i feel, and how much better it would be if i could just go to sleep and not think about it anymore.

everything about this place is perfect except for me. everyone here is upbeat and ready to begin, and they think i am too. but they have no idea, because they don't know me. i wish the summer could have gone on forever. the summer where people saw me and accepted who i was. i never felt pressured or like i wasn't good enough. i only felt love. and family.

my favorite scene in the movie "miracle" is an obscure one. i'm sure most people would point to the game where they beat the soviets, or the locker room speech, or the drill they repeated until eruzione says he plays for the united states, and not boston university. but my favorite is none of those scenes. my favorite comes a little over halfway through the movie. herb brooks brought in the all-star from the university of minnesota, and he's meshing well with the team and scoring a lot and being awesome, basically. but the other guys don't like it. four brave souls pull brooks aside and try to explain it to him. one guy says it's crazy how late harrier was brought in. the others sputter, not sure what to say to their hard-ass of a coach. but then mark johnson, the starting center, says they are a family. and that is what convinces brooks to, once again, let harrier go. because the team who eventually goes on to win the gold medal considers themselves a family.

this summer, i acquired another family. a lab family. a family of scientists, colleagues, and friends. this family has a hold on my heart in a way that i can't quite explain. but without them, i'm floundering. it seems a bit ridiculous, i'm sure. i knew them for 10 weeks. you can't make a family in 10 weeks.

yes, you can. i did. after the roller coaster of a year i had, this summer meant stability. i knew exactly who i was going to encounter when i walked into the lab in the morning. i knew that they would have my back, laugh at my jokes, hug me if i needed it and smack me if i deserved it. i've always been one to get tired of being with the same people all the time. but i never got tired of being with my new family. and now... now i'm lost without them.

none of them read this on their own. over the summer, i liked it that way. i didn't want that to change, because this was my space. but now, i need them. i need them to tell me they'll run with me. because without them, i'm not sure i can run at all. i know i can do this. i know i will be just fine in grad school, in this place so far from home. i'm just not sure i can do it alone.

don't leave me alone.

"are you looking for a little more than this hold-you-down, broken town? better leave now, or you'll never know. how far do you want to go? i can be the one. you can be mine, too. we can run away, disappear, get the hell out of here. tell me you'll come with me. tell me you'll run with me. tell me you love me. how far do you want to go?"

--> gloriana, "how far do you want to go"

"this life is full of choices. it's hard to make one with all the voices in my head. those blue eyes that i'm in love with, or that highway. whichever i pick, there'll be regrets. if i go one way, i lose everything. if i go the other way, same thing. i'm torn, and it's tearing me apart. i want to go, but i don't want to break her heart. like a sword with a double edge blade, it's gonna cut deep either way. this little town, or that big old world. chase the dream, or keep the girl."

--> jason aldean, "keep the girl"

"when you figure out love is all that matters after all, it sure makes everything else seem so small."

--> carrie underwood, "so small"

"we come here with nothing, and take it with us the day we leave. the first and last breath don't matter. it's all the ones that are in between. it's the reason for living. it's the reason the caged bird sings. it's why we sit in the movies all the way to the closing scenes. from the beginning, we're all looking for a happy ending."

--> sugarland, "happy ending"

"there's only us. there's only this. forget regret, or life is yours to miss. no other road. no other way. no day but today."

--> rent, "another day"

"i believe in music like some people believe in fairy tales."

--> august rush

"mayday. somebody save me now. i'm cutting all ties to the world outside, because it's over my head. it's all coming undone. i'm falling apart somehow. i'm closing my eyes, because once the sun rises, it's out of my hands."

--> david cook, "circadian"

minnesota niiiiiiiice.

I've talked about this before. About how I'm afraid of being alone. I'm going to be candid, because that's what I do best.

I am considering trying out online dating. now, my mother has... suggested this to me before, and I was always a little offended. She sort of made it sound like I couldn't attract people on my own. Well, I'm realizing now that it could be exactly what I need. Because I'm a little bit afraid of dating another grad student, someone who I associate with school and eventually work. I've already been there, and the ends are terrible, because you can't get away from that person. I don't want that again. But here's the problem.

I was talking with a friend who worked in lab with me this summer. And we were sort of talking about the things that I look for in a guy. And this is what we collectively came up with - a nerdy athlete who wears button-downs with the sleeves rolled up. Haha. I sort of already knew that about myself. I have a special attraction to hockey and baseball players; hockey because I'm from Minnesota and they're just flat out sexy, and baseball because there's something about a dirty uniform that is just irresistible. Sliding is my favorite. Ha. Hey, I told you I was going to be candid. What's the problem with this, you ask?

I mentioned my idea about online dating to another friend tonight, and she suggested that I hold off for a bit. Because she has this ideal for me - she wants me to meet someone in lab, someone as smart as me who can keep up with me, as she says. She basically said that the sports part is easier to come by, because even nerds have to have hobbies. Haha. That's very true. So I'm going to try a few things before I resort to an online dating service.

I don't know which lab I'll be in yet, so I will wait and see about that. Maybe if I look outside my immediate class, it will look a little better for me. Also, there is a coed ice hockey club here at Wake, and I emailed the contact person asking if grad students could play in it too. It said beginners welcome, and that's what I would definitely be. I am very confident on the ice, don't get me wrong - in figure skates. Hockey skates are a completely different ball game. Or, puck game, if you get my drift. So I'm going to try it out, test the waters. I would love to meet someone organically. I would love to have a better story of how we met than "oh, we met online." But I also don't want to be alone anymore.

I'm only 22. I know this. But I won't finish this program until I'm 27. And if I haven't met someone by then... well, that's almost the end of my 20's. That's terrifying to me. My parents met in high school. Facebook has turned into engagement-book and wedding-book. The three people who I consider my best friends - 1 is married, 1 is engaged, and 1 is just waiting for the proposal. And then there's me. Little old lonely, single me. My cynical self hasn't returned yet, which is good. I know there's someone out there for me. But where? And when, if I might inquire, am I going to meet him?

Good things come to those who wait. I'm impatient. Waiting is not my thing. But I'll try. I'll sit back and focus on school and try to wait. Hopefully not for too long.

As a funny way to end, here are other things that are attractive to me.

-baseball caps

-a good pair of jeans

-scruff

-flannel

-a slightly scratchy, deep voice, like the singer of Lifehouse

-blue eyes

-engineers

-loosely tied running shoes

-drummers

-tattoos (but not sleeves, gross.)

-nerdy glasses

-someone smarter than me

-and, of course, the things that aren't physical: a good sense of humor, someone who thinks I'm funny as well, confidence without arrogance, someone who I can be myself around, who I don't have to change for, who loves me for who I am.

Hmm. This might be harder than I thought. Haha.

take me away to places i ain't seen.

I'm really sorry it's taken me so long to update since I moved. As you can probably guess, I've been a little busy. I still have people I need to email. I'm sorry, if you're reading this and you haven't heard from me yet. I'm working on it! I should be able to catch up this weekend.

So, I am now a resident of North Carolina. I am all moved in, semi-permanently, at least. I have a new roommate, who is wonderful. I have a new bed, a new desk, a new life. It's strange to think about - almost surreal. A little over a week ago, I was still sitting at a computer in Holland, doing research in the lab I fell in love with this summer. And a little over a week before that, I was still with my new best friends, the people who now know me the best, sitting on a stoop, drinking and laughing and loving life. But that was then. That statement is strange as well. Then. Past tense. I may never do that again with those people. Hmm.

But here I am. I spent four hours at the DMV in order to get my new driver's license, which is now on it's way to me. I'm in the process of getting new insurance for my car, and getting a North Carolina license plate for the back of my car. (I'm keeping Minnesota in the front - I have to hold onto my roots, don'tcha know?) My new checks from my new bank say my new address in the top left corner. New new new. That's all I've been saying, lately. It's ok. I'm ok with it. But it's starting to wear on me. I want routine again. I want that comfort. I want to know that I can do everything the same way - I want to put all of my gear on right side first, so to speak. Always. (To the person who gave me that analogy, you know who you are.) That's how I've always lived. I'm a routine kind of person. I like new, I like the unknown, but it's like a vacation. I can't live in the unknown. It will come. I start my first class already on Monday. I emailed people about lab rotations today. I'm a grown up now.

I guess it's ok to put my gear on left side first sometimes. I mean, sometimes you just have to take that chance, take that risk that things could go wrong. That's what I've been telling myself. I'm not positive yet that I'm not going to completely fall on my face. I mean, I somehow got here, so that's a start. But this is huge. This is my future. Did you know that only 1% of college graduates go on to earn a PhD? Yeah, I'll be in that 1% in 5 years, if everything goes well. How crazy is that?

So I'm jumping in left side first on this one. Because I don't have any clue what the hell I'm doing right now. We'll see what happens. Maybe I'll hit the ground running. At least until I can get back into a routine, I have to keep thinking this. It's all I've got.

With love from North Carolina,

Amanda

"Don't look away. Don't run away. Baby, it's only life. Don't lose your faith. Don't run away. Baby, it's only life."

--> Kate Voegele, "It's Only Life"