Too busy - But not actually

These past few weeks have been quite busy.  I just realized that is how everyone starts their anual  Christmas letter. But with Michelle's wedding on Saturday, and starting at a few job, it seems there is rarely a spare moment to stop and just - breathe. A few years ago, I read a book called Too Busy Not to Pray. To be honest I don't really remember anything about the book... despite the fact that I wrote a paper on the thing.  But I guess the title says it all. But maybe instead, when referring to my life they should call it 'Too Busy to Care at all', or 'You're not actually that busy, you've just conviced yourself that you are as a cheap excuse to put God on the back burner.' 

It's interesting, I suppose, how the first thing to go from our daily routine when things get hectic is time with God.  When I'm on some weekend retreat, with 3 hours set aside for 'personal time' - oh, you can bet God and I are real close! But as soon as my evenings are full and I'm rushing between work and errands, the effort I put into my relationship with God slips pretty quickly.  I have friends like this.  We are great friends when they have the time. When all their other commitments are otherwise occupied or work slows down, that's when they call me and we go for coffee. Sure. It's still always a nice time, but when I look at our friendship from a step back I realize I'm not a priority in their life, it makes me realize that we arn't really friends at all. We are just two people who get along and hang out when there's nothing better to do.


So I guess what I'm gettting at here, is if I consider my relationship with God to be this important thing in my life, why do I have it on the bottom of the priority totem pole?

All. I. Want. To. Do. Is. Sleep.

Two nights of insomnia and I am at the breaking point.  I've tried it all... avoided caffine, washed my sheets, a 1am McDonalds run, tried lying there thinking of nothing and still - can't sleep.  You know that scene in fight club where he says with insomnia nothing's really real, everything gets the volume turned down.  Well it's true.  I've kind of gone through life's motions for the last two days on autopilot.

Right now I'm reading 'Through painted deserts' by Donald Miller. It's pretty good.  Perhaps when I have slept more than a couple hours I'll write something insightful about it, but now is not the time.  Right now it's just about Don and his friend driving around in a van and there is nothing more I can think of.  

I'm not even sure I could recall what I did today.  This blog is so pointless.  But I would just like to make a note that you should all appreciate sleep while you have it cause once you can't, you will wish for nothing more.

Adios for now.

I should like, get smart or something.

This September I am going back to school. I am super excited to move to Ontario, live in dorms, and dive into a new social pool.  I am less excited, however, to be drowning in reading and essays, feel underequipped and be under constant stress.  So, about a month ago I made a reading list for myself.  15 books I have to read before I go back to school.  For someone with the reading compasity of Twilight, this is kind of an undertaking.  And no, there is no Nicolas Sparks on the list.  I pretty much looked up '100 books to read before you die' and picked the ones that didn't sound stupid or I hadn't already read.

So here's my list:

(1) Dubliners- James Joyce [which I am finished]

(2) Atlas shrugged- Ayn Rand [I think I can get a scholarship out of this one]

(3) Pride and Prejudice- Jane Austen

(4) Age of Innosence- Edith Wharton

(5) Searching for God knows what- Donald Miller

(6) Through Painted Deserts- Donald Miller [Currently reading...]

(7) Fight Club- Chuck Palanhniuk [Finished]

(8) On the Road- Jack Karuak

(9) Nineteen Eighty Four- George Orwell

(10) Catcher in the Rye- JD Salinger

(11) The time traveller's wife- Audrey Niffenegger

(12) Alice in Wonderland- Lewis Carroll

(13) Life of Pi- Yann Martel

(14) A Tale of Two Cities- Charles Dickens

(15) The Lovely Bones- Alice Sebold

At the bottom of Everything

So I've gotten in this strange habit where as soon as I write a blog post I will think of a bunch more random junk that I feel like writing about and then like ten minutes later I will post another one.  Tres lame, I know.

I was just organizing the chaotic collection of photos that have accumulated on my laptop during the past couple years.  I know I write about travelling a lot, but that's because it's one of the few things I am passionate about.  I'm not one of those people that has a hobby that they devote all their time to.  I literally work to travel and live a little bit of life in between here and there.  One of my favorite parts about travelling is the airports.  Kind of strange, I know.  There is something I very much appreciate about the awkward lag time at the gate.  No matter how long you have, you feel rushed-- and yet you are just killing time.  People will talk about being all alone in a sea of people.  I seldom feel that way, but the airport is the perfect example.  For some reason everyone feels the need to look important and it's as though wherever they are going is the be all and end all of life as we know it.  All airports are so different and yet they all have this interesting feeling of emptyness about them.   There are few things I like more than getting a latte and people watching while I wait for them to call my flight.

By the way, if you were waiting for me to get to it... this airport appreciation session doesn't really have a point.  

I have certain little rituals that I have crafted quite beautifully when it comes to my travel experience.  For example, while I wait for them to call the flights I like to listen to "Hello, I'm Delaware" by city and colour because it talks about "there goes my life with every departing flight"... and there is something identifyable about the fact that I am wasting my life that way too.  Then, when I'm on the plane... usually right after we've taken off I pop in Bright Eyes "At the bottom of Everything." You might recall that this is the song with the schpeel in the beginning about the plane crashing. It's comforting.  Then I like to flip through the emergency landing pamphlet and laugh about the scene in Fight Club where Brad Pitt talks about the smiling expressions on the people's faces despite the fact that their plane is crashing.  Then, to finish off the flight I usually listen to "Comin home" by city and colour.  I just realized how ridiculously specific this is, but I actually do it every time.  Give it a try sometime.  You might not seek as much comfort in Connor Oberst describing a plane crash as I do, but you never know.

I kind of hate people that just blog about things they like and random junk I don't care about, but .... I just did it.  So my sincere apologies for wasting for my own narrsistical purposes.  But now you have some insight into my well crafted art of the flying experience.

Just me

A rainy day in Kirkland

Once again I just returned from Seattle. It was wonderful. The west coast is truly a beautiful place.  The people think more and the coffee's better.  But that is completely irrelevant.

Lately I've been thinking quite a bit about lonliness. And not in the "poor me, I'm so lonely" kind of way. I've kind of been appreciating it.  For the most part I have always thought of myself as the furthest possible thing from an introvert.  I used to love being with people all the time -- the more people the better. People, people, people.  

This week all my roommates went away for reading week and it's just me and my fluffy maltese left in the house.  The first night was awful. I was so scared couldn't sleep and I had to text a friend until I got so tired I passed out, phone in hand.  But as the days go on and I wake up and go to sleep in an empty house I am begining to appreciate having to deal with myself.  I don't know how we think we know ourselves.  When your constantly surrounded by people and music and tv and everything else you can kind of forget what you're like to be with.  It's like... I knew myself in the sense that I knew how I reacted to being with other people, but that seems to be only one aspect of it.  When it's just me... hanging out with myself, I can realize what I'm really like without everyone else's influence.


The other day a friend of mine posted that "loneliness is underrated." I think it's kind of true. I kind of like to be lonely sometimes.

Insomnia. And thoughts that don't make sense

I can't sleep. Maybe because I am too busy thinking. That's why people shouldn't think. Insomnia is a direct result. I hope this blog doesn't get you thinking. It probably won't.  

I am going to be really lame here and reference another social networking site while blogging. Ew. At least I am still not using Twitter, so I think we're in the clear.  You may have noticed that facebook changed the layout of how you view photos. You, like me, may have also noticed that it is ridiculously annoying.  We got new tills at work this week. They are touch screen and all fancy like.  I hated the old tills because they only worked like half the time, but I hate the new tills even more because they are...new.  Then, while thinking about how much I hate all these new earth shattering changes that are being thrust upon me, I realized that I don't like change much at all. Funny.


Maybe no one likes change much at all. Maybe that's why the rich keep getting richer and the poor keep getting poorer. Maybe that's McDonalds has to spend months shoving propaganda down our throats that 'change is good' so that the general public wouldn't be outraged when they changed their nuggets from dark meat to white.  Maybe that's why I still work at second cup or why I don't like meeting new people.  Perhaps it's why people love to be a 'regular.'  Or why women have a hernia when grey hair appears.  Perhaps it is why people will stay in abusive relationships before risking venturing out on their own.


The thing I don't understand is that hating change so clearly seems to go against nature and everything our bodies are designed to do.  Take the seasons for example.  What would happen if they didn't change? Or our bodies... if our hair never grew or our skin never replaced itself... 
(you may notice that I am leaving these questions open ended... it's not because I am deep, but more so too lazy to think up a conclusion) 


When closing, it is key to link your explanation back to your thesis so as to make a strong point.

So why do we fight change? Why do we love being so dang comfortable?   I don't know, but it's probably the root of all evil or something.

Blogger's block

So when I started this blog I really liked it because I pretty was sure no one read it.  I could really be honest with myself and didn't have to worry about my punctuation or if I was being theologically correct. It was just me, raw... honest, me being layed out on a page in size ten times new roman.  Now, I know that most people start a blog so that people will follow them and read it and be inspired or something. That is, afterall, the point.  But ... as people have approached me and mentioned that they read my blog I suddenly feel at a complete loss for words.  All of a sudden everthing I say will not be good enough compared to the more eliquent 'bloggers' out there.  So that's why I haven't written.

Then I realized, I go through much of life like this... selling myself short.  Most of the friends I have now I have had since I was a child.   To them, I am Hilary-- Hilary who doesn't read, and listens to the top 40, is overly sarcastic and has a bit of a gossiping problem.  That 'Hilary' will never do anything extrodinary or say anything that changes someone's life.  I don't blame my friends for this, I blame the fact that my insecurities prohibit me from stepping outside of the rut I have created for myself among this group of people.  I hate to quote gossip girl (ever) because let's be honest, the show is a guilty pleasure.  However, I was watching the other day and right as two of the main character's are about to rekindle their long anticipated romance,  Blair says: " I have to be Blair Waldorf before I can be Chuck Bass' girlfriend." As much as I metaphorically throw up in my mouth a little everytime I hear 'shoot for the stars', or 'don't let anyone stop you from achieving your dreams' I guess I am tired of only being who people think I am.  

Here comes the God made you special speech... 
But seriously.
God didn't make the Hilary who lives in someone's shadow. He didn't count every hair on my head so I could never do anything.  I really don't know what I'm saying here, but... I think I'm being called to do more. I think we all are.  It's just way too easy not to.