So you tell yourself that's enough for now

(I hate when you spend 20 minutes changing fonts and colors to make your blog lovely, and when you post it everything reverts to type).

I have a word document eating up my harddrive, and it contains yet another blog enumerating the ways in which I've failed to reach my potential, and listing possible motivators for making my next 6 months more effective than my last (6 months ago, I wrote the below blog post. Not much has changed). But once it was out of my headspace, I had little inclination to post it. And then I got my dictionary.com Word of the Day, and thought of this blog I'm typing, which I've been wanting to write/putting off forever, and I finally had the motivation to get started. This blog is completely off-the-cuff and NOT in a word document, because if it were on my harddrive it would never get posted.

So. Here's the part of the blog where I pull a classic (read: obnoxious) public speaking technique and define a word.

eudemonia \yoo-di-MOH-nee-uh\, noun:

1. Happiness; well-being.
2. Aristotelianism. Happiness as the result of an active life governed by reason.

This is the first word in ages that's resonated with me, both linguistically (come on: the rise and fall in cadence, the simply flowing assonance--it's undeniably striking) and emotionally (the word happiness has been on my mind for a while, as may become apparent). What's funny is that even though Dictionary[dot]com took the trouble of lovingly hand picking it for my inbox (that's totally what they do, right?), Merriam-Webster and my handy-dandy macbook dictionary don't even recognize it as a word.

Still, it's fitting with the music I've had on a loop all week, most especially with the song "Happiness" by The Fray (I've also been listening to Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know" if anyone's curious). "Happiness" is a song I've adored for years, but it's taken special significance on my iPod this year. Unlike what I expected upon first hearing the title, it's actually quite a bittersweet song. Isaac (Slade, the band's lead singer/songwriter) explores the notion that we often hold ourselves back from happiness, because happiness is hard. Happiness is more often missing people than it is being with them. The things we want can be our own worst enemies. Happiness is work, and happiness is rewarding. The lyrics resonate with me because I tend to live in my own head, and I have trouble putting myself out there. I often regret saying 'no' to opportunities, but fear of success and fear of failure hold me back. But usually the things that make a lasting impression are the things I have to talk myself into. Sometimes, you need to squeeze your eyes closed and jump off a dock with both feet. You never know when the Blob is waiting for you at the bottom. (Awkward, forced childhood reference metaphor: check).

But back on topic:

During our weekly Thacker D vid chat last week, MC relayed some advice a friend had given her: "Live [where you are] like you're never going to leave." It was advice I needed, too, and I'm so glad she shared it with us. The story behind "Happiness" is similarly motivating. Isaac wrote the song for his grandfather, a widower who lives in a nursing home. As someone who often feels like she's stopped living at age 23, I can only imagine how difficult it would be to stay open to life's possibilites at 87. But ten years after losing his wife, the Fray frontrunner's patriarch met a gal and fell in love. "They went to the [nursing home] cafeteria and got soup, and about 3 months ago they got married."

Wow. If that's not the wake-up call I needed, I don't know what is.

Aside from containing a message that is essentially always relevant to my life, Isaac is just a stunning lyricist. The poet in me thrills and trills, weeps (metaphorically) and sleeps (literally; I can't tell you how many times this song has lulled me to sleep) to these words. "Happiness: damn near destroys you, is more like knocking, throws a shower of sparks, was never mine to hold, has a violent roar."

Here's what happiness looks like to me:

Happiness is Katelyn getting married;

Dottie, too (though she has to wait awhile).

And love is like a photo booth at a wedding,

glowing smiles as Liz restarts her life.

Happiness is photos stuck in pages,

memories scrawled in ink along the Book.

I miss our days sitting up in Thacker,

but Skype date nights feel almost quite as good.

I love the days my mom drives down from up-home;

better still when she brings a packed car.

I have friends here in Carolina,

but loves from home are always twice as good.

Happiness feels so elusive;

there are days I feel dull and alone.

Contentment springs from coffee sunshine mornings;

poetry makes me feel alive.

My heart stretches from Waco to Missouri--

a big pit stop in NASCAR Tennessee.

Movies, wine, KK-esque adventures:

life is love, and love is all of you.

You Wanna Know Me?

I was cleaning out my documents folder and found a list of random things about myself. I'm pretty sure it was for one of those mass facebook notes I never responded to, but hey, it's still valid. Or is the word I'm looking for "egocentric?"

Random pointless things about Taylor:

1. I had no hair until the first grade. When I was a toddler my parents would dress me up in frilly pink things and take me to the store, and little old ladies would say, “Oh, what a cute boy you have!” Now my friends say I have goddess hair. I guess it's an even trade.

2. I have a Dasani addiction, but I'm pretty sure I'd be okay with Fuji, too.

3. I rode to the Capitol’s Fourth of July '07 in a Secret Service SUV. And met Elmo.

4. I used to have an imaginary raccoon named Tas (Tay-z) that would only come out during the nine hour car ride to my grandmother’s.

5. I took a nap in the back pew of the Cathedrale Notre Dame de Paris. There was a service going on, but I was just tired from a walking tour. I feel I should regret this, but I really don't.

6. My first memory is moving from Pennsylvania to Ohio when I was three. I tried to lug my suitcase down the stairs, tripped, tumbled, and got a bloody nose. My mom is convinced I don’t really remember, I’ve just heard the story often enough to delude myself. Does this mean all my memories of running unsupervised around the forest at age 4 are made up, too?

7. I never realized that I break my food into pieces before eating it until my friends lovingly started making fun of me for it.

8. I hate all vegetables except potatoes. And fake ones like corn and pumpkin.

9. Though I sometimes tear up, I have not actually cried since the seventh grade.

10. From grade 6 to grade 11, I wanted to be a fashion designer or a hairstylist.

11. My favorite snack is Pal’s cheddar rounds. I will wake up at 9 on a Saturday to eat them before breakfast closes.

12. Lost is the only TV show I’ve watched since the pilot. No longer true. I'm two season behind. Man, how old was that list? All the others I started in the 3^rd or 4^th season and, almost always, caught up on the previous seasons before the next week’s episode.

13. I’m a military brat, but not really.

14. I hate being the center of attention, but still like to be recognized.

15. When I laugh at my own jokes, it’s not because I think they’re clever. It’s because I’m asking myself, “Why the hell did I just say that?”

16. It takes me a ridiculously long time to get to know people.

17. I used to love animals. I would tag along to the animal shelter with my Mom, hold a kitten until I fell in love, and beg my mom to take it home. She always let me - I'm onto you, Mom, with your subterfuge pet adoption methods. It just took a few years. Now? I can't pet an animal without feeling like I need to wash my hands. Thanks, OCD.

18. I am ADD about my hobbies. I'll get really into read: become kinda obsessed with something, then drop it for something else. It makes me worry about my future career.

19. I will probably regret putting half of this in a blog. I really need a filter.

20. I LOVE my friends - because this belongs in every blog I write.

Wednesday, Why Do You Hate Me So

I am stressed and I don't know why. Scratch that; it's because of Dr. Hurlow. Well, not her so much as the article due in twenty-two hours (she hasn't given my draft back yet) and the presentation I have to give tomorrow with no guidelines (except "be creative!" Really? I think no). I hate presentations. They make me literally ill. Seriously, I can't eat for at least 12 hours before I give an oral presentation or it won't be pretty. Sad, sad, sad.

Still, I'm feeling very antisocial. This is not a big deal, generally, cause I'm antisocial all the time. For some reason it's really bugging me now, cause I miss my friends and want to join in their fun hairdying/movie watching/dance party having times. This weekend, you better be awesome.

Also, I'm writing this before chapel. My concealer is missing, which gives me all sorts of free time to blog. I don't know why this needs noting, but I feel it does.

Double also. Dear Kate, thank you for tagging me in your music blog. It made me really happy. I hope I don't let you down. Please bug me this weekend so I don't forget to do it. Love, Tay.

Triple also. I love miscommunication. It happens all the time. Like now. Katelyn and I misheard each other, and now we're talking about Hey Arnold! Does it get any better? No. No, it does not.

I feel I should mention: The show Hey Arnold! includes an exclamation point. I'm not being dramatic, I promise. If you don't believe me, check out my blog title. That'll convince you.