Happiness.

This week, 3 things happened that have totally ruined any hopes of productivity for this weekend.

One- I bought Les Misérables for myself, (which means I don't have to keep the one that is now practically stolen from my library.)

Two- I got all the licensing and purchasing drama cleared up for Lightroom. (A fantastic photo editing program, for those of you who don't know.) It is now working on my computer for the first time since last year.

Three- My aunt just gave me a white denim jacket she no longer wears... I've only been searching for one just like it for my ENTIRE LIFE. This will lead to more shopping, because I clearly need an outfit to go with it. duh.



And I was hoping to have a productive weekend where I finished all of my late work, cleaned my room, and bought Christmas presents for family... HA.

Oh well!

Dreams.

A little short story I guess...


If anyone had been present, they would have seen her in that empty bedroom, with the dull, faded light coming in from the window. It outlined her small figure curled up on the bed directly beneath it. Blonde hair fell down her back till it just barely touched the blanket, and her knees were tucked up underneath her chin. The light from the window, that soft, gloomy light that always seems to accompany a storm, was focused solely on her eyes. They sparkled and shone with fresh tears.

“Maybe I dream too much,” she whispered. Her eyes wandered across the world outside the window; to trees, to lawns, to the garden. Her flowers, her precious sunflowers.  “I’ve always dreamed a little too big, a little too far, and a little too much.”

She pressed her nose up against the glass, it was cold from the rain. Her blue eyes closed—she breathed deeply. That persistent ache inside her chest would not leave. It wasn’t sharp, not a surprise. It was dull, continuous—it was expected. Didn’t they always leave her feeling like this?

The disappointment clung to her. She shivered. It gripped her fragile heart and refused to release it. The tears flowed down her cheeks again, silently begging her to move on. Let go. Forgive and forget, just one more time. The more the tears came, the tighter the pain clung to her. She wanted to scream out in agony, to curse them for this. She stopped herself. How could she? Even she could not pretend that they knew any better.

“But they should know better,” she hissed through clenched teeth, “They should know how I’ve felt for all these years. They should care.”

They did care. But this was how they had always been with her—distant, forgetful, and hurried. What was it about her that had always scared them away?

Perhaps it was her dreams that scared them; those poor souls fettered down with petty disputes and countless worries. Because that was who she was, a dreamer. A thinker. A world changer. Is that what had always kept them from listening? From understanding? From staying? They would never stay. If she was not suffering, if by some stroke of bad luck she wanted to talk about dreams, she was not worth their time.

Some people are made up of their struggles, but she was not. She was made up of her dreams, her deepest thoughts, her passions, and her endeavors. They did not have time for childish things like that, so they did not know her. Perhaps that was what cut deepest of all. Maybe they cared, she admitted to herself that many times they did try, but it made no difference. For as long as she could remember, they had not known her.

Again she thought, “Maybe I dream too much.”

Something Admirable.

This week I started a little photography business with a close friend of mine. It's a school project to start our own small business and run it for several weeks. I'm very excited about it, and that fact alone makes me a little nervous...

Although I'm an introvert, and not too outgoing, in group projects where I have lots of ideas, I tend to take control. Not in a mean, bossy way, but I'm the kind of person who likes to get stuff done and has no problem delegating tasks to others to make sure that that happens. So no, I am not necessarily bossy, but I do have a tendency to just run right over others during projects if they do not meet with my standards of efficiency.

The friend I am working with on this project is extremely talented, creative, and outgoing. However, she is more of a "go with the flow" person. So although she is a hardworker and will do a fabulous job on whatever school project she's working on, things usually don't move at the pace and in the direction that I naturally want them to. I'm trying to stop myself from taking charge and allowing myself to pay attention to the amazing ideas and contributions my friend has to bring to the project. It's just something, in general, that I need to work on.

Anyways, that's what's happening right now, and its got me thinking. Weird as it is, I admire it when people stand up to me. Not in a rude, make-me-look-bad sort of way, but rather just saying, "No, I disagree," and then standing by their opinion. I am so used to others just submitting with a meek little "Oh okay..." when I present my own ideas, (maybe a bit forcefully at times, I'll admit.) I notice their hesitation and encourage them to make differing suggestions, but usually they back off immediately. And when they do have a suggestion, they'll say whatever it is, then add, "If thats okay..." I know to other people that's just them trying to be polite, but to me, in my mind, it's them asking for permission to have an opinion. That's just crazy to me, so I never quite know how to react. So many people I've worked with have done that, and I'm not sure if it's just how they act, or how I'm acting, or a combination of the two.

Needless to say, it's so refreshing for me when I say what I think and someone else says, "I disagree and here's why..." Sometimes it does hurt my feelings, and sometimes it just plain pisses me off--but I still admire it. I feel like it shows that they're strong. Maybe I admire it because I would do the same, and because my strength and resoluteness in my own opinions is something that I like about myself.

I'm not entirely sure why I like that stubborn strength in others, but I do. To me, it's something admirable.