You may say I'm a dreamer.

Would you say that I'm a dream chaser? That whole concept is tricky. I think the first place to start is to figure out if the dreams are even yours to chase. But how do you know? I mean, I don't want to waste my time chasing Beau's dreams or Ellie's dreams or even Rob Bell's dreams. I want to chase my own. My own.

I want to do something for me. Is that selfish?

Probably not. At least not if my dreams are meant to benefit others in some way. But what if my dreams are selfish? Somehow self-serving? What then? And what if other people think my dreams are silly? Are they still worth dreaming? Or, for that matter, chasing?

It sure is easier to just live life, without the dreaming. The dreaming makes it confusing. But, as the pioneer woman said about her quilt making, "I make them warm to keep my family from freezing. And I make them beautiful to keep my heart from breaking." Yes. I dream to keep my heart from breaking.

To be loved. There is nothing greater.

Il m'aime.

Merci. Je suis humilié.

Mon Dieu.

To call it JOY

I'm oh, so tired today. How can that time change thing kick my butt so badly?! Sheesh.

So this morning I was wearing a tank top--far too revealing for what I currently weigh, but I was at home and it was my pajamas--and I picked Ellie up from the floor where she'd been lying while she drank her bottle. I held her upright while she burped, and then I jumped us up and over to the high chair for the second course of her breakfast. It was odd that I felt something warm on my chest, so I looked down to see her spit up running inside of my tank top. Nice.

It's windy today. I have a great desire to galavant along the beach. Unfortunately it's also raining today. I'll probably stay inside.

Have I mentioned that I'm tired? I am. But I've gotten plenty of sleep, I think, and it's not that kind of tired anyway. I'm tired of the news. I'm tired of the negativity. I'm tired of feeling like nothing exciting happens in my life. I'm tired of thinking that I don't fully exist. I'm tired of not living. I'm tired of not getting things done even though I want to do them. I'm tired of not losing any weight. I'm tired of this life I'm living. If you can even call it that. I want to live a new life. I want to live the life that God has given me. I want to live. Yes. I want to attack this life with the energy that Ellie attacks her bottles and me when I pick her up from the baby sitter. I want to realize that I can't play with my toys fast enough.

I think that Ellie and I will go for a walk when she wakes up. We might even go to the beach.

Oh, God.

The locusts are singing
The sun is red
It’s gotten so late somehow
There’s gonna be trouble
You know what they said
We should have been home by now
We should have been home by now
The thunder is rolling
The sky is black
It’s gotten so dark somehow
There’s gonna be danger
God I wish were back
We should have been home by now
We should have been home by now
"Home By Now" - Meatloaf

I am so, so tired.

Overheard on this side of the Rapids

"But I don't WANNA take a nap!!"
(Ellie Grace McDowell, translated by Mama)

The most profound thing ever . . .

"See, that's the thing. People are dumb."
- RMMcDowell, in response to yet another comment from Beau during the local news

Before you knew me, I was a fairy princess

My life is beautiful. No. It's beyond beautiful. My daughter is yelling and chattering from the next room. She's learning what her voice can do besides make Mommy giggle at the little chuckles and gurgles that flow forth. My wonderful and amazing husband is on his way home from work so that I can go to worship practice at a church that we love and that loves us back. I have a warm house and a flexible job that allows me to be home with my gurggler and a car that takes me where I need to go and where I don't need to go. My family loves me. I have more friends than I realize. My life is beautiful.

And yet . . .

Why am I so dissatisfied all the time? Do I want something more because the almighty society tells me I want more? Or do I really and honestly want more? Is my longing because I dislike where I am? Or is it because I know I'm not where I'll end up?

I've been mentoring Nicki again lately. She's lost, and so she approached me to help her find direction. As if I have any myself! And yet, miraculously, she found it. Sort of. She figured out who she is, and she realized that she doesn't need to know anything more than that. She claims that I taught it to her, but I figure that you can't teach what you don't know, so she got it from somewhere else. I just feel so out of place all the time, and I don't know where I fit. So I know it wasn't me who taught her how to see beyond what she wants to be or even what she sees herself as so that she can grab hold of who she is. It couldn't have been me.

You may say that I'm a dreamer, and I hope I'm not the only one. But it often feels like I am. Like everyone else is happy trudging along in their comfortable lives, while I'm straining against the ropes, eager to move on. I'm more than this. I'm more than Grand Rapids. I'm more than sitting at this desk, pouring my thoughts out through my fingertips. I have to be. Because this beautiful life isn't enough for me. I'm not satisfied with it. And I don't want to feel like I have to be.

I want Ellie to know that before she knew me, I was a fairy princess. I caught frogs and called them prince and made myself a queen and travelled around the world and slept in castles and fell in love because I was taught to dream. I caught fireflies and knew, just knew, that they were really Tinkerbell, trapped in my jar, eager to sprinkle fairy dust on me so I could fly. And that's a good thing.

Things are a bit limited . . .

I'm still working on Wendy's retrospective, but this seems a bit quicker.

Four jobs that I have had in my life:
1. paper girl
2. whatever you call someone who works in a meat department, separating frozen chicken legs and thighs
3. cashier at Erb Lumber
4. receptionist at State Farm (I loved that job . . . I did my homework or read!)

Four movies I could watch over and over:
1. The Goonies
2. Say Anything
3. Dogma
4. Footloose

Four Places I've Lived:
1. Grand Rapids, Michigan
2. Oxnard, California
3. Antigua
4. Duncan, British Columbia

Four TV Shows I Love to Watch:
1. House
2. CSI
3. NUM3RS
4. random shows on The History Channel

Four Websites I Visit Daily:
1. www.xanga.com/FunnyWriterGirl
2. www.google.com
3. www.bankone.com
4. http://prose-and-cons.blogspot.com/

Four of My Favorite Foods:
1. potatoes of any kind
2. Pizza Hut Pan Pizza with pineapple, mushrooms, and ham
3. prime rib
4. oatmeal

Four Places I'd Rather Be Right Now:
1. St. Bart's
2. the west coast
3. the Mediterranean
4. in bed

Four People I Will Tag:
1. Wendy
2, 3, & 4 well, since i only know Greta and Wendy, and Greta has already done it, that's all i got!

And now my random observations:
1. Neat opportunities are cool. I wonder if it is an opportunity.
2. Teething must suck for babies. It sure sucks for me!!

I hate that stupid thing!

There is really very little that is more intimidating than that stupid black cursor blinking on an otherwise white space. How the heck am I supposed to know what to fill the space with? There's a reason that they call it a "cursor." That's what I become when I see it. What a joke.

WMW mentioned blogging my novel. It sounded like a good idea until I discovered that the #@*$ cursor is still here. So now that idea is out, too. You better find something else to read, WMW, because otherwise you'll be bored in ten years! Nah. I'll just find a typewriter. There's no cursor there. Or a journal and a pen. Now there's a novel idea. Novel, indeed.

It's in my head . . . gotta get it out. Gotta get it out. It'll happen one day. It really will. Now on to something fun.

By the way, hi. This is nicer than the other one.