Even Though We Ain’t Got Money

Many years ago, an ex told me I had no concept of money. Was greatly incensed and deeply offended to say the least. Basically I wanted to kill him. Actually, anything said in that tone would’ve elicited a similar response. But nothing maddens me more in escalating altercations than throwing flaws in my face that I’m not yet able to see. They’re difficult enough to accept in best-case scenarios.

There is definitely an endless list of things I’d love to procure had I the financial (as opposed to criminal) means to procure them. But my idols do not revolve around obtaining or proactively enumerating items on said list, and I most decidedly do not have the means, so figured I dwelled in the higher echelons of fiscally savvy. Enter http://www.mint.com.

According to this website that rocked my world, I spend three to four times more money than I thought I did.  This includes rent. And it comes as a shock every month. Apparently I tend to live beyond my means. I don’t spend much day-to-day, so I allow myself impulse buys here and there, since not spending on the things I really do need means I have leeway in my budget. “You’ve been so good, here’s a reward.” Right? NO. Turns out the exceptions became the rule, and it is a real problem. My concept of money needs major reconstruction.

Very soon, the way I handle my finances could necessitate relocation to a lovely neighborhood known as Skid Row. Wish I could just live on love like they do in the songs. But I admit I like the struggle. Sometimes.

you + me = YOU + ME

Held grudges against teachers who assigned group projects. To this day inwardly groan when a consensus must be reached. Because typically I disagree with the group, and my aversion to conflict prevents me from attempting to convince others if there seems to be strong opposition or they just don’t see it. Sometimes in defeat I stop caring. (I know.) Took this to mean I do things better alone. Incorporated it as a part of who I am. “Works best left to herself.”

And it’s not entirely untrue. Once in awhile I surprise myself with what I can accomplish by sheer willpower and raw talent. The thing is. I’m rarely at a loss for ideas. I literally can’t remember a time when I didn’t have multiple projects I was working on. Possibly kindergarten? Unsure. Anyhow, the problem is follow through. The problem is the needed encouragement or kick in the butt or both. I’m like the fairy in Peter Pan, or Santa Claus. When the last person stops believing in them, they die.

Looking back at my “best” accomplishments, the overwhelming majority have been for someone, or because of someone. Same thing when it comes to food. It’s not that I dislike cooking, it’s that the thought of making a meal for myself never enters my mind as something I’d do. But when someone’s coming over, I’m excited to do it. Thankful for the opportunity to do something that brings them joy. (Which explains why I can’t cook for picky eaters. I’m not just sensitive to criticism, but also to lack of praise. And false praise. Both denote failure.) Same thing with paintings, or headless stuffed animals. I’ve never been good at verbalizing feelings, so I show love by putting my everything into the things I make/do for loved ones. I put effort into what I create for others, effort I wouldn’t waste on myself.

It seems that, on my own, I’m mentally handicapped. Ambitions turn to naught and laziness stretches out on the couch. People love to use the word potential with me. I’m tired of hearing it because it’s a reminder that I’m not living up to it. But when close friends evince this crazy conviction that I can do this or that if I put my mind to it, it’s like a first wind and second wind in one. And things start to happen. Everything else is up in the air, but that’s the one trait that I’m looking for in potential suitors. Other than loving God more than he loves his life. Someone who believes in me. Not blindly; acknowledging the myriad of imperfections, but kind of like how you root for the home team. Loyalty through the ups and downs, constant desire for their success, and belief that one day they’ll make it. Doesn’t always have to make sense. When your team wins, you don’t say “they won!” you say “we won!” I love that. And vice versa. I want a team to root for too. Not now, but definitely soon.

In the words of a boy band I ardently admired as a child, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Possibly irrelevant, but sounded like a good quote to end with. CAN’T LOSE WHAT YOU NEVER HAD.

Pretzels and Whipped Frosting

Been meaning to do this painting for a longgg time. Stayed up an extra three hours last night to spend a total of three minutes brainstorming ideas. Woke up in a frenzy at seven and finished in five hours. It might be my favorite painting I’ve painted. I like painting so much. Which begs the question. WHY THE HECK DON’T I PAINT MORE OFTEN. And other things more often. I think I shall.

The title of the post is in honor of my new favorite food. Polished off the rest of the bag fifteen minutes ago and will leave in ten minutes to procure some more. It’s the little things. ^___^

Elle Goes To the Prom

Heather got the idea to ask me to be the prom “photographer” for the high school she works at from seeing (and participating in) my “photobooth” at Art Walk. This was my first time taking pictures for an event. I’ve never taken a photography class. My brother got me an entry-level DSLR for graduation and begins most conversations with “Have you used your camera yet??” I knew my kit lens would not suffice. The man at the rental store was super nice. Spencer tried to teach me photography basics via gchat. The conversation ended with “elle  ur not really prepared to do these photos….” I am nothing if not foolishly overconfident in my ability to figure things out along the way in high-stress situations. I think it went O.K. But I cringe inside when I remember people will be looking at ALL the photos. Without further ado, highlights of my first “photoshoot” and my first prom. Click on pics.

Music and Lyrics

Capturing feelings in a melody seems to give them a life beyond themselves. One result of the fall is a dysfunctional memory. Possibly remembering incorrectly is worse than forgetting altogether, but no clear verdict. Photographs invite reminiscing, but songs can serve as a direct transport through time to former emotional states. Psalms were meant to be sung, and the disproportionate quantity of verses devoted to them in the Word is more than simple happenstance.

There’s a scene in Moulin Rouge where Christian and Satine struggle with the reality of their situation. Love still runs deep, but the naive confidence of a budding romance has given way to hopelessness. Christian decides to compose a love song that will remind them of their love for one another no matter what the future holds. It’s a critical move, as it later on proves to be the sole instrument for reconciliation.

“Never knew I could feel like this
Like I’ve never seen the sky before
Want to vanish inside your kiss
Everyday I love you more and more
Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing
Come back to me and forgive everything
Seasons may change winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time

“Come what may, come what may
I will love you until my dying day”

And the reason my favorite movies are my favorite movies are not for their entertainment value, but for the parts of their story that become entwined with my own. Good art delights the senses; great art leaves the viewer forever changed. Indelible impressions.

I epitomize all antonyms of “musically-gifted”. Decided today I’d like to take it on as a personal project/goal. Not because I’d be even moderately good. But because it could be a worthwhile endeavor for archiving life experiences. I have a poor memory and need the reminding. Also I’m naming my band Elle and Sebastian. T-shirts, posters, and illegally downloadable mp3s coming soon.

I 1Cor13 You

It’s been said that love is greater than faith and hope. Why. Faith and hope are as indispensable to a person as is a sure foundation to a large building. They serve to inform the motivations for love. Yet both are profoundly cerebral exercises, whereas love steps from the realm of the abstract into the realm of the concrete. When love wavers, hope and faith are fettered. When hope and faith tremble, love is able to remain constant. Wanting what’s best for another falls under the domain of hope. Acting to work toward that end falls under love. It’s done in faith and with hope, but the fact that there’s “doing” makes it love. The verse doesn’t end: For God so loved the world that he… desired that it be saved. He forsook, he turned his back on the only One whose heart was true, whose devotion never failed, that all who call on his name might have life, and that eternal.

Foolishness led me to place preeminence on hope. A hope entailed of trusting, believing, and wishing. It suited me so because of my tendency to live life internally, to the detriment of the external. It’s a passive and weak philosophy of life. Because when even a good thing ousts love from its rightful seat, cue the noisy gongs and clanging cymbals. I say I do not do for fear of this or that. That’s what happens when the driving force is hope. Rejections dash hope. But when the driving force is love, for all intents and purposes the end is irrelevant.

Taking a break, getting some R&R, has its place. Go for too long, and you forget what you were doing. Of greater consequence, you forget the why. Who I am is not who I’ve been. But I serve a God who can breathe life into my heart of stone and turn it into flesh.