but i make it look fun

i paralyze myself too easily.
i don't know what that says about me. but i sit and stare and drown in the amount of things i need to do, and if they're manageable then i can just start the first one and start checking them off the list that i always have running, written or unwritten. if they're not manageable, as they often aren't, i sit paralyzed, unable to even begin because if i won't get them done, why even start and subject myself to the inevitable hours of stress? but i can't even blow them off and enjoy the self-induced free time. it's too guilt-ridden. so i sit and stare and drown.

don't be busy like me.

house and home.

im sick.
i think it's because im allergic to my house in pittsburgh.
but i love that house. it is so many things that my home in meadville was not. they both have their benefits, but the pittsburgh house just represents a lot more happiness than the meadville house did. my family is always there. extended family too. we never had family in our meadville house. we always had to go to pittsburgh to see them. now they come over for every birthday, game, weekend, basically anytime they aren't all together at one of the other siblings' houses, they're at ours. i love that. and i'm an adult there. they moved the weekend of my 20th birthday. from the first time i set foot there, it was with the knowledge that i half live in that house where my parents now stay and there is a tiny room on the second floor set aside just for me when i come to visit, but that i'm not expected to stay forever and i'm not expected to call every time i leave or be back by a certain time.
even after i left for college, the house in meadville uncontrollably took me back to jr high and high school whenever i went back. of late nights giggling on instant messenger instead of doing my homework. of running out the door late for everything- school, youth group, dance, rehearsal, life in general. of retreating to my basement room with the sliding glass door to get away from my dad and not speaking to him for weeks on end. twenty years of making the rounds from the tall cabinet by the table, to the one above it, to the fridge, to the cabinet next to it looking for something to eat. twenty winters of firewood in the woodstove and smelling like woodsmoke. twenty summers of opening every window and door and alternating inside and outside looking for the coolest place or the place that would provide whatever solace i decided i needed that day. that teenage feeling of always being monitored and controlled, even though my parents are the most easy-going and supportive i've ever met.
the pittsburgh house is associated with the freedom to go and do as i please and still be able to call that building on josphine street my home. always welcome. me and whoever's with me. always homemade iced tea and leftover mashed potatoes in the fridge. dad's bitter beer in the basement and mom's bottle of wine next to the microwave so she can sip it while she's cooking dinner and blasting music through the house.

i am one of a few phenomenally blessed people to have the home and family that others only dream of. it took me a few years to realize it, but i see it now and am overwhelmed by gratitude for it every day. it's not perfect. it's not always fun. i'm driven crazy by repetition after two weeks of being home. but it's always there. stop by anytime. you'll be welcomed.

...i still think i'm allergic though. it keeps me from getting too settled there-- makes me keep moving on to the next crazy thing. but that's a genetic trait, i think ; )

soon it will be VERY loud

house is clean
food is cooking
showers are taken
clothes are on
cars are moved
sitting and waiting for the birthday party of a lifetime to start.
or just the overwhelming joy that drowns me when all of my favorite people are in one place together... especially when that place is my home-- my new home that i've fallen in love with but rarely get to visit.
my mum is one of eight kids and they ALL will be here tonight. i have a beautiful homey eclectic brick house in pittsburgh, pa. the boy that has changed my entire life around is on his way to spend this with me.

some things are just overwhelmingly good.


p.s. soon to come-- the roadtrip home story :^O
the week preceding march 9 is always a crazy one.

so how's the weather?

happy march.
it's pretty much my favorite month.
i always thought that spring started in march.
and i would get so frustrated that it was still snowing for the whole month.
and then i remembered that i lived in nw pennsylvania.
where spring doesn't start till may.
and then it made sense.