Son of a two-faced jackal.

You know what makes me REALLY SUPER angry? When people ignore me. I'm not talking to myself folks! Seriously. Sometimes I'm even asking questions! And it's not that I'm not talking loud enough. It's like my voice is at that perfect pitch that people have no problem just tuning it out. And let me tell you, it is a pain in the butt. As if I don't feel lonely enough and then when I'm actually with people that I like...[cricket cricket] It's like I'm not even here. This is why it is necessary for me to have a journal and a blog. So that all the brilliant thoughts in my head are not completely ignored. That makes me sad to think about: that I feel so ignored that I have to share my thoughts with a book and my laptop. That's borderline pathetic. Whatever. I love writing and at least I know my good friends are reading this and actually LISTEN and RESPOND to me when I talk to them. Goodness gracious.

Sometimes I just wish I was more on the assertive and outspoken side. And you know what the worst part is? I really am not a quiet person. It's like I have this switch that flips on and off. I hate it so much. Like why can't I just be myself all the time? Why does shy Kaitlyn have to kick in? And most importantly, why does it have to be so hard to just be myself and be accepted?

Can't recall when I last felt that way.

I've had some interesting thoughts today.

1) Do other people daydream as much as I do? And these are hardcore daydreams. I have conversations with people. In detailed settings. I plan out everything I would say to someone, except, of course I'd probably never be brave enough to actually execute them. And you know, I think that's the beauty of daydreams honestly. I am able to let out my feelings, without making any big potential mistakes. As long as the daydreams don't completely take over my mind so that I turn into a zombie, what's the big deal right? But I still think I may be alone on this one sometimes.

2) Are the things I do throughout the day things that I actually enjoy doing, or am I trying to distract myself? I discovered a number of time-wasting websites recently (I had to replace facebook somehow) and of course, there's always Gilmore Girls. Am I so concentrated on staying busy because I don't want to be bored? Or because I don't want to dwell on unpleasant things? There's a point nearly every day where I just become completely overwhelmed with...sadness, I guess is the right word. But if I'm focusing on homework or talking to my friends or doing something stupid and distracting, I'm not feeling sad. I'm not sure if this is healthy or not.

3) What does it mean to be unafraid of falling in love? I was discussing with a dear friend (she shall remain anonymous) that you can't be afraid of the consequences of falling in love. And you can't expect things to end with broken hearts because that's so completely pessimistic and poisonous. Love is scary and it involves a degree of faith, and it can be really really tough. But if you're not willing to take the chance, then that's basically saying that love isn't worth it. And I refuse to believe that. Love is always worth the pain and the heartache and the trouble and the scariness because, in the end, love is the greatest thing in the entire world.

So, there you have it.
(The title of this post comes from Some Hearts by Carrie Underwood)

Oh, how he loves us.

If his grace is an ocean, we're all sinking.

Ever since I heard the song "How He Loves" by David Crowder, I've been trying to wrap my head around what that line means. It's so difficult for me to visualize: sinking in an ocean of grace. Let me give it a shot...


Crashing and rolling, the waves surround us with their power, with their might. We can't catch our breath, we can't be still. Fighting it does no good, grasping for something to hold onto is useless. And even when we try to move upwards out of the turbulent, chaotic water, we still are sinking. That's not exactly a happy image to me. Who wants to drown in the ocean? The closest I've ever come to that feeling is going body surfing in Florida, but even then, my feet rarely left the ground. And the worst pain I had was saltwater up my nose. This is much, much more extreme. Sinking. What kind of thoughts go through the head of a sinking person? You are immobilized and surrounded and helpless against the power of the ocean. There is no hope for escape, no chance to fight. Just imagining being in that situation is so unfathomable to me. It's unsettling and uncomfortable and, mostly, completely terrifying.


And to say that this picture of sinking in an ocean is comparable to God's grace? That's...awesome. There's no other word for it. His grace is like an ocean that surrounds us with power and majesty and incomprehensible strength. It's so consuming and mighty and amazing that there is nothing we can ever do to fight it. No matter how hard we try to emerge from the chaos, from the tumultous waves, He doesn't let us go. God's grace is just like that. There is absolutely nothing we can do to separate ourselves from it. No amount of sin or evil has the ability to overcome it. He loves us too much. And the fact that he's willing to let us sink in an ocean of grace is proof of that. Yeah, it is pretty terrifying to think about. In fact, we can never truly understand how much he loves us. I think this analogy only begins to scratch the surface. His love is perfect and amazing and awesome, and I can say that over and over, but to feel how much he loves me? I can't even put that into words.


Being in the presence of God, and knowing that he surrounds me with love and grace more powerful than I could ever imagine, is the most satisfying experience on earth. And even when I believe in God with all my heart, I still find it hard to believe how much he loves me.


2 Corinthians 12:9

I'm listening to Taylor Swift.

And you can't stop me.

I think she's a mind reader sometimes. Maybe that's why some people don't like her, she hits too close to home. Because seriously, she writes about what we all want: a happy ending. It's not cheesy and it's not stupid. I was at dinner the other night and we were talking about Taylor Swift and I said that she writes all her own songs and somebody said "you can tell." And I'm just not sure what that's supposed to mean. Her songs are lame? You feel so low you can't feel nothing at all. Who the heck hasn't felt like that? Who hasn't had a crush on someone that seems too perfect? Who doesn't want to love someone with such a strong passion that it makes you crazy? And I know Our Song was WAY overplayed, but who doesn't want a relationship like that? Yeah, she sings about love. And yeah, she's like 18. But seriously? I think she's a genius. She hits the nail on the head with every song. That's how people who are in love or who want to be in love or who just got out of love actually feel. And I think the best part about Taylor Swift is that she never gives up. She doesn't sing about slitting her wrists or swearing off men even when she gets her heart broken...again. She has faith in love. She believes that there's someone out there for her. And she's giving the rest of us hope too. Because that's really what we need, I know it's what I need. I need to believe that where I am right now is going to lead me to where I'm supposed to be, to who I'm supposed to be with. And I need to believe that all this heartache and sadness and lonliness will be forgotten when I find the one I've been looking for. And until I find him, Taylor Swift is gonna be my bff.

Virginia Woolf moment.

Have you ever had one of those Virginia Woolf moments where you can totally see yourself filling your pockets with stones and walking slowly into a pond? If you're going to off yourself, that's like the most poetic way to do it, I'd say. There she is just living her life in a sort of slow, foggy, empty way and every morning when she wakes up, another stone is added to this weight that never seems to stop growing. She wanted to be left alone, she wanted peace, she wanted to escape. So she is led to a place where she didn't have to feel she could just...float. Just picture the last image your eyes ever see: The world vanishing inch by inch as if the surface of the water is a big, black curtain.

Hey, I'm not suicidal. I need to write in my journal about this, but you know, that makes it all the more real. So I'm not completely ready yet. I won't be pulling a Virginia Woolf, but I do understand how she must have felt, which makes her even more tragic because no one was there to tell her she wasn't alone.

Current Track: Curl Up and Die by Relient K

Clinging to the remnants of perfection
Like most do after they break it
Not knowing which direction's the correct one
Do I discard or remake it?

Cause if I don't know then I don't know
But I may know someone who knows me more than I
And if I somehow could rest this soul
Maybe control can find it's way back to my life

My heart is torn.

I've never had an inkling to hear my dad yell curse words, but right now, I think that's the only way to describe how I'm feeling. My father flips over tables for Hoosier basketball. He doesn't leave the house (or lounge around the house) without wearing at least one article of IU clothing. If you try to ask a question, make a statement, or even say say something nice to him while IU is playing, be prepared to get slapped and/or thrown out the front door. My family can attest to this, I am SO not joking.

So, here I find myself, in my dorm room, all alone, bored out of my mind, watching the Purdue vs. IU basketball game, and I miss my daddy. 4.8 seconds left and I can picture him on the edge of the couch cushion, eyes ablaze, jaws clenched, mesmerized. "Foul him!" "Get back on defense!" "What the #$%^!" What a beautiful picture of an American sports fan.

Also as I sit here, I can't picture being a [deep breath] Boilermaker. I think my baby blanket was cream and crimson, and I distinctly remember being dressed in an IU sweatshirt as a toddler. I've known the players' names every season, I know that this is a "rebuilding year", and I know that Mike Davis was the worst coach to ever walk the earth. I've defended IU's honor countless times, and I love sharing that bound with my dad.

But I plan to go to Purdue next year...my heart is torn.

Can I be a neutral fan? Is that allowed?

Well, here's hoping my father doesn't disown me.

Self-discoveries of the half-conscience Kaitlyn Beer.

I told myself I would blog today, even though I am half-asleep.

I blame LOST.

So, I haven't blogged in awhile. I haven't been doing a lot of things that I love recently. Reading, running, writing in my journal. Basically I've been watching a lot of Gilmore Girls and complaining about anything and everything (sorry Adam). And you know, I'm really starting to annoy myself. I feel like I'm just sitting around waiting for my life to start. It feels like moments are flying by before I even have the chance to make them mean something. I hate it. No, I'm not happy at Lake Forest, but does that mean the world stops spinning while I sit in my room and cry? Not anymore it doesn't. I'm here for a reason, it wasn't a mistake, it wasn't an accident. It only becomes a waste if I let it. I still have the rest of this semester to live my life the way I'm meant to live it. I can make the most of the people I've met here, the classes I'm taking, the new places to explore. I don't have to wallow while I wait for next year to come. I can embrace my life exactly where it is until it's time for me to move on.

I've got so many ideas rolling around in my head of things I could write about, and I'm so excited to get started. So, world, Kaitlyn Beer is back on track. My dedicated readers, all 10 of you, thanks for sticking it out with me, I know you've all been waiting patiently for that day when I would pick my laptop and write again. Well, that day has come. Rejoice and be merry. I love you all.