Songs for Christmas, for baby Jesus..

After and during a rough patch in my life, I really like to listen to music. I mean, I like to listen to music all the time, but when life is kicking you down, melodious tunes are especially healthy. I like to think it's an even better medicine than laughter (though that's pretty helpful too). Sufjan Steven's Songs for Christmas albums are by far my favorite daily "pill". His banjo playing, sweet singing, groovy moving songs put a smile on my face in seconds. They also get me really thinking; I've been trying to get into the Christmas mood, you see. And it's been very difficult. So last night when I couldn't sleep, I turned on Sufjan's beautiful voice and got to contemplating. I feel like people only picture the commercial, materialistic Christmas. That Christmas makes me want to throw up. So, like any self respecting Lutheran, I tried to grasp the real meaning of Christmas. I started by reminding myself that in the Christian theology, Jesus is not really the genetic offspring of God, as that would be physically impossible (seeing as God the Father is an invisible, higher power entity with no reproductive organs). Many people fail to realize this, and forget that Jesus is God. He is the human manifestation of Him. So why do we celebrate Christmas? People say it's for family, for compassion, for giving, for forgiveness, for loving... Well it's for all of those. Jesus came to Earth during a crazy time. The rulers of his day killed toddlers just to try and destroy the most powerful human being ever, for pete's sake (well, King Herod at least)! God saw the destruction, and gave himself to the human population. We just kept on sinning. He forgave us for all of the messed up shit we did daily. He loved us because He made us, just like a mother or father loves any of his/her children. We are a family. Christmas is a time to celebrate the whole family. God's family.

I sound like a preacher.

I guess that's ok.

Merry Christmas.

P.S. If Jesus is supposed to return to judge the living and the dead, especially when we have gone "awry", then I guess we can expect him soon. Ha.

Nostalgia in Cologne

Spring is without a doubt my favorite time of year. It's warm, but not hot. I can go biking for several hours before its dark without having to wear multiple layers of clothing. Spring is the time to jump on the trampoline then run across the yard, barefoot, into the pergola. My favorite part of spring is the sunset. Sitting next to my father and brother silently brings a sense of tranquility I crave all year round; I feel accepted into the world of my older brother, and appreciated by my dad. I also really like the aroma of my father's pipe. And Old Spice. The problem with spring, however, is that it is too nostalgic. I feel like I should be five years old, nuzzling into my father or mother's chest as the sunsets, while a cool breeze blows my hair. I mean, I still do that, but there is a difference. I am older, two years shy of adulthood. Well, the literal meaning of adulthood. Really I am simply Peter Pan. I will never grow old, I will forever be a child, at least during springtime.

My Body is a Temple

My freshman year of high school I met an amazing friend. While we are not incredibly close, I can say she is one of the sweetest, most caring people I have ever had the pleasure to meet. This friend, Ashley, founded the non-profit organization My Body is a Temple. MBIAT is targeted to boys, girls, and people of all religions. Ashley, and many people like her (including myself), wish to rid the world of self-hatred and eating disorders, along with overall improved lives. We all deserve to live comfortably, and often times the distortion media instills in young (and old) people minds gets in the way of our goals. Please do whatever you can to be involved in this incredible movement against self-loathing.

Go to http://mbiat.org/ to learn more!

Babysitting

I am not going to help you choose your pajamas, you are a big boy, do it yourself.

I am not going to scoop you ice cream or get you another glass of soda, it is past 9 o'clock.

I am not going to get a movie ready for you, you were supposed to be in bed a half hour ago.

I am not going to read you another story. Two Spongebob picture books are enough (with the voices of course)

I am not going to say it again: "Remember to go to the bathroom." "Brush your teeth for gosh sake!"
"I won't drag you up the stairs, your legs are there for a reason."
"GO. TO. BED. NOW."

I am not going to leave you.

I am not going to let the monsters get you.

I am not going to let you have night-terrors.

I promise.

Procrastination is a Female Dog

1) I have not posted in a while. My mom thinks I gave up.

2) I'm just lazy. And I am not all that creative, it is HARD to come up with an interesting topic to blog about.

3) I have a 4-5 page paper due in two days that because of an awful rough draft, I practically have to rewrite entirely. I mean, I GUESS I don't mind staying up until 11 pm+ every night. Musical rehearsal isn't enough, so my teachers help out by piling on the homework. FUN. This picture describes how I feel right now. Minus the hippie glasses.

That Sad Moment When...

You have to say no. And not the self-satisfying no, but the no where someone you like's feelings will be hurt. The moment is sad because no matter how much you know that deep down, the decision you are making is the right one, you just want to give them a break. Even when the health of others is at stake. Life really sucks sometimes.

Know What Really Grinds My Gears?

Jeans that are too small after only two weeks of owning them. And the only other pair you own are too big. Then when you complain about it, people get pissed and tell you to just be grateful you're a size 3. 

Whatever.

On a brighter note, welcome to Neverland! I've never tried this blogging thing until now, so get ready for some awkward starter posts.