Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear

I cracked open my journal from early first semester, and fun blogs always come from the silliness found in old journals.





It's funny how much a blanket can make me smile. I don't have any deeply sentimental blankets anymore. I had one as a child, my blankee, that I carried with me everywhere I went, the picture never complete without my thump in my mouth and my bald Cabbage Patch doll tucked up under my arm. I made Brian a fleece blanket for Christmas last year. Though things have become something we never imagined, he says wrapping himself in that blanket is the closest he can get to me, so he does it every night. Shoot, I just like being warm. Blankets cradle me. I pull mine up to my chin every night, no matter the temperature. I find security in its shield from anything that lurks in the night. Most importantly, it keeps my feet warm, which is really what it all comes down to. They are a safe haven. I love them.
Someone to love is a blanket. I am afraid to brave the world without someone to hold my hand and protect me from the things that lurk in the night. It is something I'm growing accustomed to, this nakedness. I need to learn this. Some night the world will be sweltering and I will need to release that safety blanket and let the cool summer breeze roll over me. God is calling me to that right now. He has pulled back my blanket and is waiting for me to let Him wash over me.
...
I love blankets, I'm just wanting one to love me back.

If you never try

You ever met one of those people whose coolness is so infectious it almost forces you to become a better person? I know one of those people. I've only known him for a few months, and I don't know him terribly well (although I'd like to), but he's attacked me with this subliminal "Carpe Diem" mentality, and it makes me want to get out and experience something, anything real. It's safe to say I'm not very proactive. Until tonight I was perfectly fine with doing the same boring thing weekend after weekend and felt no shame in still complaining about never having any form of adventure in my life. This person, in 5 minutes, found at least 3 distinctly "Fresno" things for me to do, and with that between-the-lines force he uses (whether consciously or not), I was out doing something I'd never done by 8:00.

The second Friday of every month, I've come to discover, the Fresno Filmworks organization shows an independent or foreign film at the Tower Theatre in the Tower District. I like to take advantage of the little opportunities to impress this guy because he's much cooler than he thinks he is, so I grabbed my room mate, Tiffany, Katie the birthday girl, the ever amazing Sara, and of course Tom Wise (because what's a party without Tom Wise?) and headed to Olive and Wishon to see "Outsourced". This independent film was set in India about this guy who's "promoted" at his customer service firm in Seattle and sent to India to train the people who received all the outsourced jobs from the now eliminated United States facility. It was an awesome story of crossing cultures and experiencing the otherwise forgotten parallels in what looks like a completely different part of the world in so many ways. It was absolutely hilarious at times, too. Definitely something new and different, and so much better than laying around in my pajamas, making a Taco Bell run at 11 PM, and going to sleep early.

Experiencing life gives it purpose. The bed might be more comfortable, but how do you grow without vulnerability, without experiencing everything there is to see and feel, taking risks for the sake of finding something bigger? The movie didn't change my life, but it was a step in the right direction. I'm making a bigger deal out of it than it seems I'm sure, but it really was just an awesome experience.

Different names for the same thing

It's 2008. Has been for about an hour now. I passed up a couple of lame parties for a couple of lame reasons:
1. My parents are rather anal, and even though I'm now almost 21, I still have to follow their rules when I'm at home if I want them to continue to pay for my car, my phone, half of my education, etc. I want them to continue to pay for that, so I didn't drive anywhere tonight. Logical, I think.
2. I absolutely love my sister. I do. She's amazing. She thinks I talk her up too much so that when my friends finally meet her they're not too overly impressed, like they expect way too much and she lets them down. It's just because they don't know her like I do. I stayed home with her tonight and we made fudge and homemade cookies and watched Dick Clark and wanted to give him cocoa and let him go home and sleep, that poor, old man. It was awesome. We're gonna watch Scrubs on DVD now til we crash. Movie day tomorrow. She's a winner.
3. Erica wanted me to go with her to a party at 26-Year-Old's apartment, and, though I do greatly enjoy the company of my new friend 26-Year-Old, I wasn't down with a big group of his 20-something friends, half drunk and with no date. Who knows? Maybe some majorly charming, drunken stud was there and I just missed my shot at marrying a future Amazing Man. Really, I just didn't want to be stuck next to some drunk guy I just met around the time the ball dropped and be forced to kiss the guy. Yeah, a not so happy new year to me!

That being said, as I watched Dick Clark kiss his wife around 12:01, I came up with my New Year's resolution. I've never had a New Year's kiss. Actually I haven't really done any of those cliche' kisses like in the rain or on a plane... or with a guy named Jane... ok I needed a rhyme. Anyway, New Year's resolution, terribly lame, but hey, it's what I would like to happen in 2008: I want a New Year's kiss. Not with some guy named Chris that I met around 8:00 that night. I want it to be with somebody I care about, someone I know. I'm not looking at it as like a requirement or a major goal I'm going to make happen. It's just what I'm hoping for. It'll happen. Someday. When it does, it better be damn good because this hopeless romantic is a little tired of getting shafted.