I don't know what I'm dreaming of. The fact that I'm dreaming may be good enough. But doesn't everybody dream? And isn't everybody met by the crushing realization of failed expectations and half-lived something-or-others...would-be's, could-be's, never-was...So much happens in these little heads of ours, so much that we think is important. But what makes my thoughts so important? What makes my dreams so essential to be fulfilled? What is so special about what I want?

I absolutely can not answer that question.

Too Late.

"I used to have a friend to know when I got old,
I used to let him sleep at my house on the couch when he got cold.
He died on my birthday...
I said I don't want you to go, but you're leaving anyway."

-Sequoyah Prep School

I am very ready to go to California. Logistically ready, no. Tons of packing, money issues, book apprehension, ect...Otherwise - just put me on a plane.

But every once in a while, it still hits me hard. It still makes it hard to sleep, sometimes, whether or not I attribute my inability to lie down to the anticipated change. Such is life, however, and I really am looking forward to it. I'm just going to miss out on so much here. I'm not going to be able to be a part of people's lives as I have for the past year. I do not belong to this group anymore, at least not in an every day sense. That takes some getting used to. It's lame though, because my transition still doesn't seem half as bad as most.

I had a scare, though, about going. Some financial things weren't working out at the end of last week, and it almost looked as if I wouldn't be able to go to LA next semester. The thought of staying scared me more than the thought of leaving.

In short, I'm still going to LA. Two weeks from this moment, I will be in California. And I will love it.

Does Bernan Syndrome count for movie quote addictions?

"Then I saw her face - dun dun dun dun - now I'm a believer."

You people have no idea what's coming. Yay for Monday nights.

Last night I zonked out at 8:30, my sleep only interrupted by a phone call at 9 and at 11...something about unloading trucks and the person on the other end laughing at me...I have no idea what I said that was so funny. It was a good thing that I fell asleep though, because I had to leave the house before 6 this morning. I left when it was dark, and I think I won't come back until after dark. Interesting.

I'm in one of those moods right now where, if you were sitting next to me, I would be talking your ear off about all the happenings of the past 24 hours, the next 24 hours, and the two lines from Hellboy that I can quote. I'm in such a weird mood.

1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3...Oh, and I'm waltzing in my head.

I catch up on sleep just to watch it run away again.

I want something profound.

I want to write some story that weaves in everything that I've learned for the past three years, leaving my audience to ponder for days. I want clever, witty, and deep. I want a perfectly crafted point that is vague enough to make everyone think, and clear enough that everyone gets it. I want to challenge the mind and create a struggle that presents a new level of understanding. I want that understanding to be renewed and seen in a deeper way at each telling of the story. I want that understanding to change the way people think.

But I got nothin'. Except for the line from Hellboy II: "You're in love. Have a beer." Only I'm not in love. And I don't have any alcohol. I don't even like beer. Or being in love...Wait, I lied. But my version of love would not involve beer.

How's that for profound?

"Stumble till you crawl, slipping into sweet uncertainty..." -Jimmy Eat World, Sweetness

Been kind of stuck on that song lately. No idea why. It's pretty old school, and all I own is a live version. I hate live versions of songs. But I am constantly listening to it in the car. Bernan Syndrome - it's our diagnosis for song addictions. Definitly have the symptoms, at least when I'm driving. And I almost always speed when I'm listening to that song...

On leaving ...I'm out in two and a half weeks. I used to wish for more time. There a song that goes, "If I could find another thirty minutes somewhere, I'm sure everything would find me." I feel like I spent the past few months looking for ways to find my extra "thirty minutes" here, with these people. I don't look for that anymore. I'm ready to go. I'm tired of preparation and goodbyes. I'm tired of anticipated change. It just needs to come. And I'm totally stoked.

Change is already here. It used to hurt to watch it all, but the more you try to hold on to something while it's drifting away, the more you miss what's drifting in. It feels good to just let life happen instead of worrying about things like that. I'm very much excited for my friends, too. I'm excited for those leaving and getting into the "experience of a lifetime" situations. I'm excited for the friendships and activities developing for those staying at here...Sometimes, with all the new relationships and the new things that are developing in the Columbia scene, I'm sad that I'm not staying to participate. Maybe, a more accurate description is that my insides kind of get panicky..."well, why can't I be involved in this?..and how come they get to do that?..and why the heck am I leaving...??" That's a dumb question. I know exactly why I'm leaving. Plus, most of these people are older than me, out of college by at least a couple years. I will have my turn to be 23, 25, 27 years old. I will have my own post-college life. Odds are, not here, not with them, and that's ok.

Right now, I'm 21. I'm still in school. And I'm going to California.


Bring it on.

Thinking about....

-how you meet cool people in the wierdest places.

-how, when you spend an extended amount of time with someone, you pick up some of their habits (facial expressions, ect), that still linger years later.

-how I haven't been this focused doing daily tasks since I worked on Remedy...the first time.

-how I have failed miserably at getting people copies of Remedy and am now adding it to my list of things to do in the next two and half weeks...

-how I'm ready to be in California, one way or the other.

-why I'm so jittery these days...?

-your mom. That's right. I said it.

"These seven souls have had a long history." -Garrick, during our version of a "group hug."

I was 17 or 18 when I met most of the guys. Maybe younger than that when Thad came into the picture. We've all been fairly involved in each other's lives for years, and at crucial points.

Garrick was about my best friend in the world for a few months after Josh and I broke up my freshman year of college. Garrick and I were together all the time, and it pretty much saved my sanity. He was a good friend to both parties of the break up, and, at least on my end, handled it well. There's always the time we all went camping...in January...in a tornado warning...two weekends in a row. It's probably one of my favorite stories to tell. I think I'll soon be posting some of the pictures on Facebook from that trip, by request.

Phil and I go way back. He lived with my brothers for six months or so when we were all in high school (wow - saying that makes me feel old). Being my wonderful, change-resistant self, I didn't like him very much at first. Three months later we were great friends. I don't know how it happened, but suddenly there was hackey sack and guitars and band practice, and I don't know what I would have done without Philip Gibson. We aren't near as close as we used to be, but I would go home and we would take long car rides and talk forever.

Thad, I wasn't too fond of, either, when I first met him. (I think my relationship with most of the guys started that way...) I always remember one time he was wearing a hat, I grabbed it off of his head, and a joint fell out. It got lost in Martin's yard and we made him find it so that the parents wouldn't freak out. Good times. The last summer I was home, I hung out with Thad about every other day. Another sanity saver for the college girl who could only find an 8-hour-a-week job.

Ben didn't talk to me for the longest time. He's just not the talkative type, unless he knows you really well. But one night at band practice, he asked me how I liked the music. I was so excited that he was actually speaking to me, and I'm pretty sure our friendship started about then. Now, when we get bored at work, we text each other and theorize about more entertaining ways to make a living. Our lastest: "FUNderwear: because it's better than naked."

There was definitely a history in the room yesterday afternoon, between Garrick, Ben, Phil, Martin, Thad, Liz and me. It was an odd feeling, though, because it had been a year, if not two, since we were all in the same room together. I am always afraid in those situations because I've changed and so have they. I suppose, though, change is needed. And yet, that doesn't change a lot of things.

I am sick of getting ready to leave.

Pack. Drive. Pack. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. "Breanne, will you go through these boxes?" "Here's the plan for the next month....no, wait, I changed it..." "When am I going to see you before you go?" More goodbyes. Homework. "Aw, honey, you're going to California..." And more guilt trip. "It's costing an awful lot of money." "Make sure you go see so-and-so before you leave, even though you haven't talked to them since you started college." More goodbyes. Big hole in heart. Organize. "Do these go in the attic or in the yard sale?" Anticipation. Anticipation. "Stop slamming that door."

I'm having a hard time keeping my aggravation under control on my last weekend at home. It didn't help that the second we were all in the room together after I walked in, my parents started spurting at each other about their plans to come to California a week after we go. If you get the adults involved, they always make it complicated. I shouldn't have agreed to their travel plans in the first place.

It's time to go.

"Breanne, if you EVER give up on ANYTHING that easily again..." --Nathan, last summer, in response to one of my many frustrations.

Decidedly, you can not drive a manual vehicle like you've been driving it for five years...on your third try. And maybe, if you're me, not even your fifteenth try. Some people weren't made to drive manual vehicles. Maybe I wasn't. And that's ok. I'll settle for the automatic, or at least the fact that I'll probably make a lot of mistakes driving stickshift for a long time. And that's ok, too.




Catch the life lesson there? It's a big one.

"I'm not going to blog, I'm going to bed." -me, ten minutes ago.

I feel so lame. I should not get as worked up as I did about petty things.

I danced with Nathan tonight, and right after the song was over, I lost it. Had to go hide behind a car. There were waterworks everywhere. I sucked it up so that no one would notice when I went back to the dance. Tears kinda sat on the edge of my eyes. A few fell every once in a while, but it was dark so no one saw. When Caitlyn and I got in the car to go to Sonic, I told her I needed to be upset for a minute. So, she held me while I cried and I soaked her t-shirt, as I usually do when I really need to be upset.

Breanne, just get over it, geez. It's not like I never saw it coming. Actually, I think that's part of the problem.

This has been in "the plan" for so long that leaving has been tearing me up for months now. Every time I think I'm fine with it, something like this happens. Niagra falls out my eyeballs. Come July 29th, when I'm flying out, I feel like it will be a relief. I won't be worried about how to spend my time with people here. It won't be a possibility anymore. I'm kinda just ready to go, even though I don't really want to leave.

I'm scared. Scared of moving, yeah, but I'm most afraid of the time I have left here. I'm scared that we're all too busy to spend good time with each other. I'm scared of wasting the next four weeks. I'm scared that they think I'm being ridiculous when I'm upset. And somehow, after everything that's happened, I'm still scared they don't care. Why is this all so important? I have no idea.

Now, I actually do need to go to bed.

"Do do dee do do...Goodnight sweetheart, it's time to go..."-that song Caitlyn always sings

I think it's fair to say that there will potentially be a lot of blogs over the next few weeks? I need some way to process through stuff.

Things keep happening that make me realize -oh, that's probably the last time I'll see that person for a while. Today, I said goodbye to a friend of mine who's moving to Pennsylvania. In a couple weeks I'll hang out with my brothers for the last time till Christmas. In a month I'll say goodbye to one of my closest friends for nine months - nine months, and I can probably count on one hand the number of days I haven't talked to her in the past year. It makes me nervous. Uncomfortable. But who says life is supposed to be comfortable?

I get nervous, too, when I think of everything that has to be done before the move, and everything that will happen after the move. Then, I kind of get this wave of panic when I think that I won't get to spend time with the people that I really want to spend time with for this last little bit. Life is still pumping for all of us, and we're busy as ever. We can't just stop it because we're all separating. All I can do is trust a sovereign God that my last month will unfold the way he would have it.

"...I hate to leave you but I really must say goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight."

"Feet may touch the ground but my mind's somewhere north of here." -Caedmon's Call

The longer I live and the more inescapable problems that I find in myself and the world, the more excited I am in the hope of Heaven. That, my friends, is going to be a great thing. Yay for the doctrine of glorification.

It's an answered prayer that I even feel this way. I remember in high school, older people would talk about Heaven or I would hear songs about how great eternity with God will be. But I never got it. I couldn't get excited about it, I couldn't understand what a good thing it was going to be, my eternity as a Christian. So I prayed, "God, I want to be excited about Heaven. Please show me that it's something wonderful to look forward to." And he did. It's so cool that God doesn't forget our prayers, and they are answered in his timing.
"For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ." Philippians 3:20

A month left until our much anticipated departure. Get excited, people. Breanne is moving to California.

"Nobody ever died of laughter." -Max Beerbohm

Pretty sure I almost did once. You know, when you laugh so hard you're physically unable to take a breath...It's the best. And I love waking up laughing. I think it's one of my favorite things ever.

Last summer, a group (or should I say the group) of us took a trip to Greenville to dance. We were always taking random trips like that, two or three times a week. We stayed the night in Greenville, and apparently I was the last one still sleeping in the morning. As I lay there, minding my own sleepy business, the whole bed jolted. My eyes popped open to the bombardment of three wide-eyed faces rather close to mine. Instantaneous laughter. That's when I decided I love waking up laughing, mostly because it reminds me of them.

I love being with people. A lot. I love conversations. Had a few good ones going around last night. Missed out on a little dancing because of it. I find, however, that I can dance with people I don't know very well for the rest of my life, and probably will. All said and done, I don't mind missing a few dances to be with people I won't be with much longer. (Or, I don't mind taking a few dances with people I won't be with much longer.)

I'm sorry I'm taking this transition of leaving for California so hard. I know, of all of us that are separating, I will take it the hardest. Change is not my forte. I was told to focus on the gain and not the loss. If I don't, I'll miss out on a lot, I think.

In other news, God hears us. That thrills me to the bone, because I used to doubt that he did. He hears and answers amidst our stubborn hearts, leads and provides on his perfect timing. I can trust him. Because of who he is, he deserves to be glorified. In my unworthiness, I humbly rejoice in answered prayer this morning, and am encouraged. :)
"And they will sing of the ways of the Lord, for great is the glory of the Lord." Ps. 138:5

To give vent now and then to his feelings, whether of pleasure or discontent, is a great ease to a man's heart. ~Francesco Guicciardini

Well, that's good news.

So, not gonna lie, I've been hurting a little bit lately.

But it seems as if there's a lot more going on than my hurt (imagine that). As a matter of fact, there's a lot more people hurting a lot worse than me, some of whom don't have the hope that I have. Unfortunately, I'm so wrapped up in my own pain that I don't pay attention to anyone else's.

I try to pray for my friends, I try to pray for people that I know are hurting right now. It seems as though the only thing I can ever say is, "God, I don't know what to do."

God, I can't help them.
God, I'm not sure how to be there for them.
God, I can't fix this.

God, my name is Breanne. Clearly I am in control of the universe, thus will be the sole solver of all my friends' problems.
That's real intercession, right there, ladies and gentleman.

Well, maybe I should try, "God, teach me to love you and understand your love so that it overflows from me to other people." Or, "God, I trust your sovereignty and your providence in this situation." I really am glad I'm not in control.

In other news, of awesome things I've done recently...I made a semi-life-sized effigy of my boss out of trash bags and shredded paper in his absence this week. It's sitting in his chair in his office, awaiting his return. So cool.

Aaaaaaaaand it's swing dancing night. oh baby.

"It's the friends you can call up at 4am that matter." -Marlene Dietrich

Yes. Yes, that's true.

About a year ago, I was frequenting those 4am conversations with friends that matter, friends that thought I mattered. When I feel relationally insecure, as I often do - even and especially with my closest friends - I remind myself of times like that when they put up with me, far beyond what I deserve. Friends do that, sometimes.

In a month and a half, there will be 3,000 miles+ between the people that I've grown with over the past year. I think the current insecurities I feel will be of minimal importance then, and what will matter is how I handled them now and what I learned for later. Not that I'm an adequate manager of my present emotions or my pool of collected knowledge. You learn as you go, I suppose.

In other news, welcome to my new blog. I'm a verbal processor who rather likes to write. That is your disclaimer :)