poison and wine

you only know what i want you to.

i know everything you don't want me to.

your mouth is poison. your mouth is wine.

you think your dreams are the same as mine.

i don't love you, but i always will.

oh, i don't love you, but i always will.

i don't love you, but i always will.

i always will.

i wish you'd hold me when i turn my back.

the less i give, the more i get back.

your hands can heal. your hands can bruise.

i don't have a choice, but i still choose you.

-the civil wars, "poison and wine"

my life is a mess. i've said that before, and i'm sure i'll say it again. but right now, my shit is a mess. i have had a headache every day for the past two weeks. i have things to do, decisions to make, and i can't make myself do anything. i want to talk myself in circles, but everyone is tired of listening. i simultaneously know what i want and don't know what i want. maybe it's just that the things i want are unattainable. or i'm afraid to take a chance in order to achieve them. or... i'm just not meant to have them at all.

sometimes, i feel like i'm a walking contradiction. i'm a scientist, but all i really want to do is write and take pictures. i'm filled with love for so many people, but i'm afraid of anyone loving me. i tell people to follow their hearts, but i can't seem to follow my own.

if you asked me exactly what i wanted out of my life, i would be able to tell you. i just don't know how to get there. i can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but i can't find the entrance of the tunnel itself. i know i think too much. i should probably just let this happen. i need to let this happen. or this pounding in my head is going to kill me.

i've been calling and calling for you, but you answer, and i shut my mouth.

i've been searching and searching for you, but myself, i don't want to be found.

you say "i am." you say "let go."

you say "believe," but it's not that easy for me.

you say "wait." you say "right now.

don't you see you're already one foot in the ground?"

i've been wicked and wild and wrong and i've wondered the price of my shame.

i've been hiding my face for so long, it's a wonder that you know my name.

you say "come home." you say "i'm here."

you say "there's some things you just can't control."

you say "let me." you say "believe.

why do you search for the answers you already know?"

i am the way and the light and the truth.

don't be misled by the flight of your youth.

have faith in the things you can't seem to believe.

what if you had faith in me?

you say "rest here. this is your home.

don't you see that you knew i was here all along?"

-saving jane, "you say"

looking for an equal, preferably in flannel.

i have been coming to terms with something about myself. something that i'd really like to change. but i don't know how to change it, or if it can even be changed. it frustrates me.

i want to further my education, because i don't know what i would do with myself, as is. if i were to quit grad school right now (not that this has crossed my mind...), what would i possibly do with my life? the only thing i can think of is go to grad school for something else. like forensic science, which i've loved since high school. or genetic counseling, which is just fascinating to me. or just chemistry, which i'm not great at but have always loved. so. i am not satisfied with my education, as is. i don't have faith in my ability to get a job right now, to be happy if i just enter the work force.

this makes sense, when i think of the men i have been going on dates with. i'm not satisfied with the conversational flow with people who stopped after their bachelor's degree. that makes me sound uppity, i know. but i'm going to be in grad school for five years. i go to work everyday to learn more. i can't sustain a conversation about beer, for example. (not that i've ever been in a situation where i've had to try...) and i am automatically no longer interested when a person tells me that they know someone who got a phd in "bubbles" (not that i've ever heard that before...). i've become a bit of a snob, which is upsetting to me. i want a smart person, an equal.

however.

i do not find intellectuals attractive. at all.

the first thing i said when i got here is that i don't want to date another grad student. i don't want to talk about science all the time. i want to be able to watch a baseball game with someone, for example. and talk about what's going on in the world. i want to feel protected (and not like i have to do the protecting, because i have more muscle mass than the guy). i love me some nerdy glasses, don't get me wrong. however. i don't love pale, video game playing, sheldon cooper-esque nerdiness. i'm a nerd, i know. but there is more to me than meets the eye. i like to think.

here is my conundrum.

if i were to close my eyes and think of what the perfect guy would look and act like, this is what i would see:

tall, strong, flannel-wearing, red-blooded male. who loves (and hopefully plays) sports, and isn't intimidated by a girl who knows sports, too. who drives a truck, or some other vehicle that can just turn off the road and drive through the woods or a field. who is ok with the fact that i don't fit in a box. and that i'm getting my phd. and can talk to me about it.

do these men exist?

not in my experience. because here's the problem. i just described the kind of guy whose favorite song is either "drink in my hand" or "a country boy can survive." who chews and drinks and owns a tractor. which i'm fine with. except...

what would we talk about?

exactly. sigh. i know what i want, but i'm afraid i'm never going to find it. i've been told i'm intimidating. maybe that's why conversations about beer seem to prevail... because i intimidate men. well, that sucks. i'm not scary. (am i?) i miss the days when i was on a college campus, and on an equal playing field with men. we were all just college students. all on the same path. but now i'm a phd student. and i'm one of few at this campus who did not find someone in undergrad, when things were equal. this is not a good town to be single in, i've heard.

i'm not sure what to do. it seems i'm going to have to settle if i go either direction. i'm either going to end up with an intellectual or a scientist and be able to have stimulating conversation, but maybe have to spend my time outdoors by myself OR a guy with a gun in his truck and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow (*melt*), but maybe i can't talk to him about my work in a way he'd understand. ugh.

i'm taking advice and suggestions. because i don't know what to do about this.

(and for those of you who i keep in regular contact with... yes, i'm sort of seeing someone. i'm clearly still frustrated. those are the only details i'm providing.)

this has been "over analysis: a scientist's guide to relationships" with amanda g. until next time!

i just write what i love.

well, as most of you know, i wrote a novel last february. and i decided today that i'm going to write another one for national novel writing month.

this is my reasoning.

i need to write. if my imagination isn't going crazy, i'm not productive.

i made the dean's list for the first time since freshman year the semester i wrote that novel. the only other semester i came close was spring of my sophomore year - when i was in a fiction class. that can't be a coincidence.

i'm a writer. and normally i spend my time blowing up people's inboxes with emails. no more! i will be writing what i know and what i love. and leaving everyone else alone for a bit.

guess what i've chosen to incorporate in my novel? hockey, a strong female character, minnesota, hope college, chemistry, engineering, colorado, a loving sister, friends, family. faith, hope, and love. all of the things that i hold near and dear to my heart.

ready.....

go.

happy nanowrimo, everyone!

god gave me you.

for the last two days, i've been trying to formulate my thoughts into something sensical, so that i could put them on a page. sunday was a rough day for me. i spent most of the day huddled under my hope college flying dutchmen sweatshirt blanket watching "pretty little liars" as tears continuously fell from my eyes. but it's not for the reason i'm sure any of you are thinking.

i've told this story a total of four times now, to four people. but i was not completely honest in any of the tellings. i'm not sure why i felt the need to hide things that are so important to me. i mean, i still haven't told this to some of my best friends. but something happened last night. something that changed my mind. something that made me realize that love will always be most important.

i spent four years at hope college. in those four years, i'll wager that i walked across the train tracks thousands of times. you had to cross them to get to any sporting event, to get to meijer, to go anywhere, pretty much. it meant nothing to me. but last night, a hope college freshman was killed on those same tracks, struck by one of the trains that so often rattle nearby houses and apartment buildings. what do i do with that? why did this happen? what is the meaning?

i don't have any answers. but i do have a story.

as my last post demonstrated, i love hockey. i'm not going to go into any more detail, because you can read it here. so i was beyond excited to be able to watch my team play online on saturday night. hope college, you'll always be my team. i'm about the furthest from being dutch as anyone can be, but at the same time, the dutch will always have my heart. i watched the game, i agonized over it, i yelled at the computer and cheered and groaned and laughed at the funny commentary. it wasn't as good as being there, but it was all i had. and then the game ended. and i realized i was still sitting in my bedroom, yelling at a computer screen. i wasn't in holland anymore. and my heart ached. hockey, the ice, the smell of an arena... that is home. minnesota is home. and i was missing home.

so i started typing an email to one of my dearest friends. and i did the best i could to describe why there were tears running down my face. i tried to put the numbness into words, but i don't think i succeeded. when i reach that stage of loneliness, i just want to feel. i wanted to hop in my car, drive to the interstate, and floor it. i wanted to climb on the roof and stand on the edge. i wanted stand on the edge of a cliff and jump. i'm not an adrenaline junkie, by any means. but that's what i wanted on saturday night. instead, i closed my computer, turned my phone on silent, and burrowed into my bed.

sunday, i woke up and went to church for the first time since i've been here. a friend of mine from lab suggested a church to me, and i went. and i cried during the service, because it felt like it was for me. the message was simple - it's not easy to respond to a message from god. but he speaks to us all the time. nothing is a coincidence, because everything is planned out by him. the people we "randomly" meet aren't random. people are strategically put into our lives. events happen for a reason. i needed to hear that. because it makes the summer make so much more sense. it makes my life make so much more sense.

i look at my closest friends. my absolute best friend is someone i randomly spent three weeks with in the british isles when i was 13. two of the people i'm closest to now went to hope for all 4 years with me, but i first met and talked to them in scotland. and the rest are from my lab. think about this... i graduated in may. i shouldn't have stayed at hope for the summer, but i decided to because i wanted to stay in michigan for the two weddings i was going to be in, and i love chemistry. and look where i am now. look where god put me. look who he gave me.

i would never be where i am right now without a certain six people in my life. and i met all of them in the most random of situations. you know who you are. and i want to take this time to tell you all that i love you. and that i appreciate you. and that you have made me who i am, and i would be lost without you.

and i want to thank god for intentionally crossing our paths. i want to thank god for helping me see all that you are, and all that you bring out in me. i want to thank god for giving me you.

"i've been a walking heartache.

i've made a mess of me.

the person that i've been lately

ain't who i want to be.

but you stay here right beside me

and watch as the storm blows through.

and i need you.

god gave me you for the ups and downs.

god gave me you for the days of doubt.

for when i think i lost my way

there are no words here left to say, it's true.

but god gave me you."

--> blake shelton, "god gave me you"

hockey is a minnesota girl's best friend.

there's something about hockey that makes me yearn for red wing.

i'm not sure exactly what the cause is. arenas have been a part of my life for... as long as i can remember. i mean, hey. i'm more graceful on the ice than on the ground, by a long shot. it's probably just memories, what i associate hockey with. and sometimes my memory is just too crisp and clear for my own good.

i close my eyes and am taken to bergwall. i see the black rubbery stuff (does that stuff have a name?) that covers everything from the front door to the ice, including the bathrooms. i see my daddy, tying my skates for me. i see his old hockey skates, that still have the little eraser things on the back. i see the circles and the crease, with almost all signs of hockey erased from the ice for our figure skating lessons. i see open skate, where my dad would make me practice crossovers and skating backwards long past when i wanted to. thank goodness he did, haha. i see the 1997 high school team, with johnny pohl at the helm, going all the way to state and winning it all. he played for the gophers then, and played a little in the nhl. he, and that team, introduced me to hockey for the first time. i see 8th grade gym class, with a unit on skating. a bus loaded us up and took us to bergwall for an hour each day for 2 weeks. all the hockey players were given an a+++ by the biased teacher, while i only got an a+ as a figure skater. haha. i can smell it, i can taste it, i can feel the ice connect with my tailbone as i practice spins, again and again. i loved it and hated it and never thought i would live without it.

then we moved to prairie island. which, of course, we all hated at first. prarie island is where all of my high school memories are. i only figured skated there for a year or two before my vertigo made it impossible for me to master the spins anymore. although i didn't know it was vertigo at the time. but it was at that arena where hockey eclipsed figure skating. it was there, in 2003, where we watched the best high school team since johnny pohl's make a run at state, eventually losing in the finals to some private cities' school. reid cashman played on that team. he was a family friend. he autographed my rink rats shirt, which is now part of the t-shirt blanket on my chair here in north carolina. it was in this arena where i decided i wanted to be a part of it, even though i didn't know how to play. in was at prairie island where i became the girls' hockey manager my sophomore year, and statistician junior year. i knew the ref's signals, i kept track of shots, the coach trusted my numbers over the people sitting in the box. hockey was my life, and i loved it. our team was awful, haha, that was the downside. and then, senior year, i would go to games and cheer on the boys, mostly. they were good that year. my friend will was the goalie. the ref's signals were the same. i got so into some of those games. twitchy, some would say. my heart was on the ice with that team. i knew and was in classes with over half of them. that's small town minnesota. that's what i miss.

when i go home for christmas, i always go to at least one game with my parents. my dad and i watch the same way. we sit together, talk under our breaths. he "cuts" people as they screw up, and i laugh. i don't know the players anymore. it doesn't matter. i'm always cheering for red wing. purple and white are as much my colors as orange and blue. and hockey is hockey. and the mshsl always has good hockey.

at hope, that continued into my freshman year. i was able to go to a game here or there, but there was a caveat. the rink was off campus. i didn't have a car. i learned to live without hockey, but i followed the scores, the team. i didn't really know any hockey players anymore. the hockey hole sort of filled when i met my ex-boyfriend. he was anti-sports, as a whole. so i... forgot. i forgot what the ice does to me. i forgot everything i knew, was raised with. and then we broke up.

i came back from christmas break last year and wanted hockey. i had been to a couple games with my parents again, and needed it. i begged roommates, friends, anyone to take me. i was able to get to 5 games, i think. and i absorbed it. it smelled like home. the echos, the atmosphere, the sound of sharp metal digging into the smooth surface of the ice. i now close my eyes and see orange and blue, hear the "dutchmen" cheers, feel full, passionate, and happy. hockey is who i am. i'm a minnesota girl.

and then this summer, the most amazing thing happened. i made a new friend who feels the same way about hockey as i do. the difference - he plays. in fact, he's hope's goalie. in the summer, we connected about other things. but now hockey season is in session. and i feel that craving again. and i have someone to watch now, someone to cheer for, a reason to talk to my computer as i watch the games online. i have purpose. i miss hockey.

i visited last weekend, as i mentioned. he had been at a tournament. and when he got home, we talked hockey. and i remembered how much i loved it. i could picture what he was seeing. he brought me home again, even if just for the weekend. there's a game tomorrow that i can watch. i'm barely sitting still, and it's still a day and a half away. that's what hockey does to me.

diamonds, i've been told, are a girl's best friend. that is a gross generalization, and false, for me. i don't need diamonds, or fancy things. i just need ice, and checking, and cold, and passion. i need hockey. i need to feel at home.

hockey is a minnesota girl's best friend.

you to miss.

i'm not running scared

i will stay right where

i gave you my word that i would be

i don't want to hurt

but i know i have to feel

i do it to be close to you

just to keep you real

and i don't want to cry

but tears are part of life

they conquer the impossible

and make you feel alive

and i'm so glad, my love, that i have you to miss.

--> love and theft, "you to miss"

i had the most amazing weekend in holland.

i got to see friends, and laugh, and get hugged, and be happy.

and yes, i'm sad that i had to leave so soon.

but i have them to miss. and i have hope to miss. and holland to miss.

and friends, i'm so glad, my loves, that i have you to miss.

life ain't always beautiful, but it's a beautiful ride.

i have an exam tomorrow, so i won't write much.

sometimes, i'm disenchanted with the world. i have days where i'm not sure which way is up and were i'm supposed to be. or if i'm doing the right thing at all. but then... then something reminds me.

i get scared out of my mind at a haunted house, but i have someone's hand to hold.

i think this place is lonely and boring, and then i take a walk through ruined buildings that predate the declaration of independence.

i don't believe i'm good enough or smart enough or prepared enough to present on a paper in journal club, until i get a text that simply says "rock that presentation."

i lie in bed late into the morning because i know i have a day of studying ahead of me, and when i get up and check my email, a good friend has some time to chat.

i sit in my lonely apartment while my roommate and her fiance are on a date, and i get a phone call from another good friend. or my daddy.

i'm sitting through a boring and awful biochemistry lecture, and yet another good friend texts me with a story that makes me laugh.

i may not always believe in myself. but people believe in me. it's true, the world isn't always perfect. but life is like a biochemical reaction. everything is coupled. for every bad thing that makes us not want to continue, something good gives us the energy to move forward. sometimes i hate it here. but that's ok. because other times i spend an hour of the afternoon walking through the trees with the late afternoon sun shining down on me. or i hold the small body of a baby monkey and feel his heart beating fast against my fingers while he is sedated for a brain scan. or i hear the familiar sound of a text message reaching my phone as a friend i left behind in the midwest thinks of me.

i'm not great at change. i can adjust, i can adapt, but i don't necessarily like it.

that's all right. i'm doing just fine. life ain't always beautiful...

but it's a beautiful ride.