i'll let my fingers do the typing...

How can I start a blog when I don't have anything planned to say? I have a lot on my mind, who doesn't... but nothing of special significance that is blog worthy. And yet i can't shake the feeling that i want to type. I love typing. I love the fact that my fingers know exactly where to go to create the words to express my thoughts. and i love how writing something out helps solidify ideas and feelings into something more meaningful. I think its sad that so many people go through life without writing down their thoughts. I wish i did it more often. Writing in a journal/diary/blog is actually really therapeutic. I recommend it to all.

So i went up to Holiday (i think) tonight to eat dinner at my brother's girlfriend's mother's house. What was the special occasion, you ask? Well, my parents came into town (tyler bought the plane tickets for my dad's birthday so he could come visit his dad.. my grandpa) and this dinner was the official parents meeting parents dinner. It consisted of me, my mom and dad, tyler, hilary, her brother, their mom and their grandma and grandpa. The food was great and so were they. Its interesting how involved tyler is in their life. He actually lives up there and works for Hilary's dad. They love him. I'm still not at close to my brother as i would wish, but i look up to him and admire him and care for him in a way that i can't always explain. Anyways, back to the dinner. The house was really nice, very cutely decorated and rather spacious. I felt a little out of place, not so much for myself, but for my parents. It was obvious that hilary grew up in a different lifestyle than i did. I don't think there is anything right or wrong about either way. But i hate the fact that it makes me feel inferior like it does. I'm very intimidated by people who come from families like that. Sure they would tell you that aren't rich....and i wouldn't go as far as saying i was poor. Those two terms are so taboo in american society (everyone is "middle class"... yeah... right...). Anyway, it wasn't just the house. Its the clothes, and the food, and the lifestyle that all makes me feel inferior. Hilary is a very talented dancer and i learned tonight that so is her mom. her mom choreographs musicals and it really good at it. I couldn't help but compare that to me and my mom. I know i have my own qualities that make me special, but i wonder what it would be like to live like that. Sometimes i just feel like i'm destined to a life of mediocrity. I should really stop before this turns into a personal diary entry...heh. I'll just remember one of my favorite quotes by Eleanor Roosevelt "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." And there is no denying that they really were nice people.

moving right along... I drove home from the dinner (in snow... which i hate...) and found my apartment rather quiet and empty. I guess that's what happens when three roommates decide to go out of town for the weekend. The free time motivated me to work on some homework, a project that simply involved coloring. Nothing too intense for a saturday night. I colored while listening to "This American Life" a program broadcasted through NPR. They have some pretty interesting topics and i rather enjoy listening to the style as well. The episode i listened to was all about memories.... 4 different people telling 4 different stories that all related back to remembering their childhood. It got me thinking about the fragile state of our memories. One of the people said something in particular that got me thinking. He said that in talking to someone from his childhood he realized that his memory of her was more realistic that his memory of himself, and vice-versa. Its interesting that we can remember other people better simply because those memories aren't tainted with the years that have since passed. Our memories of other people are like images frozen in time. Where as our images of ourself are always changing and i wonder how accurate they really are.

My main problem with memories is, like i said before, how fragile they are. Sure i can look back at a picture and recall some events of that day, i can read an old journal entry and be reminded of my younger self, and i can talk to people who knew me as a child and learn some things i had completely forgotten. But where does that leave the rest of my experiences. Memories long gone and never to be reclaimed. It saddens me to think that someday i won't remember my college years that well. I'll look back and remember some general things but not many specifics. It is sad because i really enjoy my life right now and i don't want to forget it. I don't know why, but forgetting things really bothers me. I guess that's another reason why i like writing things down. Its comforting to know that in ten years i can look back on it and remember what i used to be like. I find some satisfaction is having memories. I guess it symbolizes that my life means something.

Ironically enough, I was talking to an old friend last night about this very topic. He asked me if i would remember him in a few years. My immediate response was "of course". How could i forget someone who i was so close to? And then i began to think about previous friends i've had. Friends with whom i've shared similar bonds, but who now seem like minor characters in this movie i call my life. Sure if i think about them, i can remember their names, what they looked like, what we did together. but the memories are slowly fading and getting twisted in my head. It seriously creeps me out. .... I just got lost in a string of friends, starting as a young child and leading up until my ex-boyfriend. It startled me to end with ryan and realize that even though its just been a few months, my experiences with him have already faded. I guess there are some good reasons for this phenomenon. Afterall, i wouldn't want to remember every detail of every boy i've ever liked because someday i'll be married and those would all be pointless memories....right? i guess. but i still don't like it. maybe, hopefully, when we are all in heaven we will be blessed with a perfect remembrance of everything. That would make me happy.

So...here we are now, a few paragraphs later and its basically my bedtime. I could have spent the last little bit of time cleaning my room. It really needs it. Or doing more homework... what college student doesn't have homework they could be doing? but i'm glad i decided to write instead. Regardless of whether or not you (the reader) enjoyed this blog, i enjoyed writing it. I enjoyed thinking deeper about the otherwise meaningless parts of my day. Its funny because technically i could have thought all these things while cleaning my bedroom, but i don't. I tend to turn of my mind if i'm by myself. Its easier just not to think sometimes. But what a waste that is? I'm blessed with such a wonderful brain, i really should use it more often. But... until i can learn to think by myself, i will have to continue using blogging as a way to dive deeper into my personal thoughts. And you know what that means... many more blogs to come. Until then... :)

good night