number six

“It’s sad when someone you know becomes someone you knew.” -Henry Rollins

Lately, I’m starting to see the signs of another fallout with someone I once called a friend. Another fallout. It hasn’t happened yet, but the forecast definitely shows one happening again. Why does this happen? And why does it happen so often?

I’m thinking back to my blogging history and how many times I’ve written on the subject of fallouts. To clarify, a “fallout” is when you no longer call someone a friend, or realize that things aren’t how they used to be, or that you’ve lost something you once had. “So-and-so” just kinda falls off the face of the earth. Well, off the face of your earth.

To be exact, I’ve written about it five times in the history of my online authorship, more than any other topic. And each time, I’d felt so sure of myself & confident that the moving-on part was worth my while. I’m a firm believer that those who bring you down need to pick up their things and start walking. Oprah once advised that you should “surround yourself only with those who will lift you higher.” That’s exactly what I do. But it isn’t easy shutting someone out of your life, especially when there’s a history to be erased. I had been soo confident, so confident that the relationships weren’t worth my while. But

Now I’m beginning to wonder.

How would life be different had I not given up on him? Would I be the same person had I kept her closer in my circle of friends? Is my life really as great as I thought it would be without him? It’s only natural to wonder, I’m certain. Especially when in retrospect, some of the best times of my life involved the ones I let fade away from me. It seems like in the history of my fallouts, I’ve let go of some the greatest potential I’d ever seen. I miss them. I miss her laugh, I miss his smile, I miss all those heartfelt conversations where we delved deep and gained new wisdom.

And what about all that time spent with people who seemed to be good friends at the time, but never developed beyond casual acquaintance? I’m an expert at spending too much time on the wrong relationships and not enough on those which really need attention and care. Let’s start thinking beyond the present, shall we?

I have wrestled with the idea of rekindling these lost relationships, calling them back to see if we have anything left to rebuild friendships on, or even start new ones. But I fear that they’ve moved on. I fear their lives have changed and they’ve gained new friends. Maybe they’ve replaced me and forgotten. Maybe they haven’t. Who knows if I’ll actually reach out to them…I should probably start by preventing the current fallout from happening.

Friendships are fragile. Combine them with my impatience, and they crack.

C’est la vie,
Chappie

mmm, I love the smell of fresh laundry.

“I believe you should live each day as if it is your last, which is why I don’t have any clean laundry. Because, come on, who wants to wash clothes on the last day of their life?”

Today was one of those Sundays when the skies were cloudy and gray, the hallways were dark in the dorms, and nobody was up and about like usual weekends. It was definitely the kind of Sunday when you just catch up on things you neglect in life. Like cleaning. Cleaning underneath the bed, cleaning the floors, cleaning clothes.

Yep. Sunday is designated Laundry Day. For some reason, clothes never get cleaned during the week, Saturday is too fun to think about the dirty hamper in the closet, so Sunday is always the last resort.

This morning after church, I checked the Laundry Room (which consists of 4 washers and 4 dryers for a dorm of 220 residents) and luckily found two of the four washers to be open. So I rushed to my room, grabbed the Tide and Cottonelle, and dragged a humongous load of dirtiness down the hall. I seriously didn’t realize how many dirty clothes I’d been stashing the past few weeks; today was the first time I’ve had to stuff the darks into the machine. Maybe I should do this more often? The sad part is, I still had an entire wardrobe hanging in the closet to last me the rest of the quarter….ay ay ay, I love being a girl.

So after I packed the two washers with darks and whites (yes, I’m smart enough to separate the loads) I pulled out my Tide and uh oh. It felt WAY too light for even half a load…poured it out, and yup. all gone . So I trudged BACK down the hall & dug to the dark corner of my room where I store the spare detergent and finished loading my dollar’s worth.

Waited 38 minutes.

And I was on a roll today because one of the dryers was empty. Understand that the dryers are NEVER empty. Somehow, people dry more clothes than they wash? And the task of transferring damp & cold clothes across the room to the dryers is basically a guessing game of “how many socks will I drop on my way?” Today it was about 8 socks and 4 panties. Not my best effort, I have to say. But I finally shoved both loads into one machine, feeling more accomplished drying than with washing, thanks to the whites & colors option.

And waited 60 minutes.

It’s important that you get back to the Laundry Room within a minute of your load being done, because if you don’t, you’ll be unpleasantly surprised to find your entire pile thrown on the table (or floor, if someone’s having a bad day) and completely wrinkly. And again, I was on a ROLL because I got back right when the dryer stopped flipping.

And folding is the climax of my laundry experience because a friend of mine taught me how to fold T-shirts in record time.

About two hours of my day were dedicated to doing laundry, part of why today was the Ultimate Cleaning Sunday. Sometimes it’s just necessary to have days like today, a time to take care of the chores you neglect throughout the week (or weeks…).

Yay for lazy Sundays & fresh laundry,
Chappie

this week in a glance

“Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.” -someone I would love to meet

Items needed to prevent me from collapsing in the next few days:

1. Coffee
2. Laughter
3. Prayer

Everybody has at least one hell week per year. This one’s mine.

C’est la vie,
Chappie

plugged in

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” -Philippians 4:13

Faith is such a difficult concept for me to grasp. Still. And I’ve known God all my life. I know that He has imminent power over all, I know He is incredibly merciful, I know He saves. So why do I fall short and doubt Him as much as I trust?

Looking back to the start of this year, I remember how I’d put all my trust in God to just take care of me and drop people into my life who would be amazing, strong Christians. People who would push me to be a better example of His character. Those first few months, I felt so void of meaningful relationships and couldn’t stand being away from my two best friends, being away from my family and everyone who knew me. It felt as though I had lost my entire identity: my geographic, physical, and emotional identity. I was no longer the 18-year-old blonde girl from Anaheim with an amazing group of friends to surround her; I was a brunette freshman studying architecture in San Luis Obispo who thought she knew others. “Displaced.” That’s what I was.

But coming back after Christmas Break, I felt the exact same way about being home. It’s almost as though the tables turned since I packed my suitcases on December 7th. Now I know I belong at Cal Poly. I am that girl in class who works her butt off because she wants to, I am artistic, I am blunt, I am part of a group of friends who know me well and care enough to push me to be a stronger Christian. And when I think back to my month off at home, I truly felt displaced. It was the oddest thing, coming back to a place I remember so well, and feeling completely outside the circle. That comfy, Christian environment was void when I hung out at home and I realized for the first time that among my high school friends, the people I cared for most, I did not have a close relationship with one believer.

I fell really hard after that.

Why hadn’t I taken the chance to witness to my friends during those six years at Oxford? I regret it now, but at the time, I just didn’t want to scare them away or give God a bad reputation, the reputation so many over-zealous evangelists give and plague Christianity with. I always figured that if Kayleigh or Alaska ever had any questions to ask me, they would. I figured being a living example of God’s love would be enough for them to realize that He’s exactly what they need to find the meaning of life. But they never did ask and I couldn’t be the catalyst for such a drastic change in their lives, by simply living mine and not sharing the Gospel. So often we shared our innermost thoughts about why people act the way they do, about our greatest fears, about our insecurities; we had several deep conversations at La Creperie and over coffee.

But at the same time, we’ve never had a deep conversation. And that just tears me up.

I pray that God inspires me to be more faithful and doubt Him less. I pray that I get rid of these fears of what my friends will think of me if I actually start that deep conversation and ask the tough questions. Even if they don’t want to have that conversation, they need to hear it. And not discussing the Gospel with my friends is basically a slap in God’s face isn’t it? I’d be doubting the creator of this universe, and that’s kinda ridiculous.

I have some amazing friends at home that need to hear the truth.
Pray for me.
Pray for them.

C’est la vie,
Chappie

red, pink, & white all over

“Never sign a Valentine with your own name.” -Charles Dickens

It’s kind of sad that the only time I have to blog in my entire day is at 12:30 in the morning. My life the past two weeks, basically. My head feels like a tornado just swept through it, but I’m sure that was just cloud of stress. I’m really looking forward to Thursday because 1) it means that there’s no school the next day, and 2) it’s the day of romance (or something like it).

I never know how to respond to Valentine’s Day. It’s a cute holiday with all the red, pink, and white floating around, and it just makes me want to decorate my room. It’s fun because you exchange creative cards with jokes, candy hearts, and smiles with that one person who normally would think it’s awkward. But it’s also S.A.D. (Singles’ Awareness Day) and of course, reveals to me how starkly independent I am year after year. It’s kind of amazing that a holiday so easily overlooked, can trigger a gamut of emotions for everyone.

So in the spirit of Saint Valentine, let’s assess our situation:

I’m single. For my 19th consecutive Valentine’s Day. At the beginning of this month, I firmly decided that February 14th shall be known as “National Wear Black Day,” but now I’m taking a new outlook. I’ve been single my whole life, so why wear black now? Why this Valentine’s Day? Especially when presently, life is so beautiful and unbinding. Maybe it’s the fact that I will have a Valentine this year. Or that God has introduced me to an intriguing new stranger. Or that I have amazing friends in my life right now. I can’t possibly wear black in a blessed life like this.

Usually I sulk with my girlfriends about how we don’t have boyfriends and whatever, but really? Please. I feel like I’m still finding a rhythm in this jumbled up college chaos, so adding a significant other to my schedule would throw off my balance. Even though I’d love to have someone to cuddle up watch the Notebook with, I love my “no strings attached” self right now. Even though I’m hardcore crushing on M [as he shall be known for future reference], it’s so whatever and not serious at all. I know one of God’s greatest virtues is patience, so I’ll gladly wait until that day he introduces me to someone amazing. He’s holding out on me, I know it.

That’s my current status. I’m down for a good time, so let’s dance.
J’aime la vie,
Chappie