Please Don't Go Without Me

I like sitting here. I feel like someone I'm not, but it's a good sort of feeling.

At times like these I become ridiculously thankful for the German's. That sounds weird, but I swear this is the best coffee shop to sit in and read and type words onto screens. And it wouldn't be the same with out these sweet German ladies.

And let me just tell you about listening to The Civil Wars, The Avett Brothers, and Mumford & Sons, I mean...their all great. But that's just what I mean.

I don't feel like that's me.

I don't really know what "me" is, but it's not the Toms wearing, music-snobbing, coffee drinking, artist thinking, book reading person that is sitting on this leather couch. Those are all the things that I know about myself. But that's not me.....is it?

This is why people don't like me, I wouldn't like me either. I am always pondering what makes up the self.

I know that statistically it's probably my parents fault that I don't know science so well, since I'm not a boy.

I know that observationally speaking most women are territorial over parking spaces they are leaving.

I know that technically speaking I have no money for England, but that if I work hard, and keep praying, that I will make it there.

I know that this summer I will be getting to share so much about the God who saved me, and I will be meeting so many new people, and doing so many new things. I know that I am sitting here scared.

Let me tell you something sad and ridiculous. Something which will not surprise you and you may have heard it before.

I've fractured my foot, and I have been marching around campus like a limping toy soldier in a very silly boot. I just about dove off the bus earlier too. The ground looks so much further away when you're trying to figure out just how to reach. And then on the stairs, my nose decided that it would really like to meet that second one from the top. I had to stop her you, she's already pretty squished and getting involved with someone like that stair fellow was really going to get her in trouble.

Also, I think that my true calling is to sneak into people's houses and bake them muffins and make them coffee in the morning, and then leave before I get sat on. But you know I think it would be fun to be the traveling muffin maker. I know it would be fun.

Spinning in Circles - Headaches in Large Scoops

It's funny, you know? That song by Jason Mraz, the one about coyotes or something like that.

I feel sweet solitude on the 4th floors of libraries, and I have a deep love for corners and hazelnut coffee.

I have a book to read, one that I will actually enjoy.

I have two group projects, 3 major papers, and two minor ones. All due this week.

I will sacrifice my social life for a week, it will hurt, but I can tell that summer is coming. I take comfort in having this knowledge in my arsenal of happy things.

I have decided that loving people you don't know is an easy thing to do, so I should probably do that, and just decide to never meet them.

I have a summer job.

I need to apply for a fall one.

I have an apartment.

I need to get tanned.

I need to sweet talk a few more people.

I need to convince someone of the male gender that I am not as scary or weird as they would have first assumed.

I need to let that male know that I bake. I've heard that works.