80 years alive and four eating food, five reading books and 57 with you, two eyes one nose one smile one life, it somehow isn't ever quite enough time

^^Hank Green, It All Makes Sense at the End.

I had a realization about myself today, while combating the tiny but ferocious chickens.

I can't wait to get old. That's not to say that I don't love life, and don't want to live every moment to the fullest extent, and that I'm not passionate about living. I do, and I am. But I found this song last night. Look it up on YouTube, because I can't get the URL to copy for some reason. It All Makes Sense at the End, Hank Green.

See, there's something that excites me about being able to look back on my life, and saying, "Damn that was a good time." I look forward to getting married and having kids. I look forward to getting a job, and hopefully doing what I love. But even if that doesn't happen, even if I end up doing something I hate, and I don't ever get married, and my sisters don't even have kids, so I don't get any little babies to play with, and all that, which would SUCK, I still can't want to look back on my life, and seeing why what happened, happened. I don't know if that makes sense.

I really want to get married, so that I can get so enmeshed in his life and in our life together that when I get old, I'll be like Oma and Opa. Oma complains that they barely even see each other, because they don't go out together or anything. But, whenever something happens to Opa, be it a cold or a flu or something worse, she goes mad. It's obvious that after fifty two years they've come to this place where there can be no exsistence with out the other. I truly believe that if one of them died, the other would be gone within six months. That, to me, is the epitome of a successful life and marriage. Even though they maybe had some really hard times - they didn't think my Opa would live to be fifty, because of his health. Yesterday was his seventy-sixth birthday. They had lots of troubles together, but they never stopped loving each other. What Hank says must be true: it does all make sense in the end. They can now look backwards, and say, "Maybe I don't understand why that happened, but it still makes sense. And I'm glad we went through it together."

That intrigues me. I know, I'm only seventeen. And I still have my whole life ahead of me. A life of happiness and heartache, a life of laughters and tears. A whole life. My mother always warns me not to wish my life away. I know that - and I really do enjoy almost every moment of my life. I sure treasure every moment, whether it's easy or hard. And sure, there's things I wish I could tell my younger self (I may just have to write a letter to her...) but that doesn't mean I'm not glad I went through everything I did. I already greatly enjoy looking back on my life. I so, I can't wait until I get old, and then I can reminisce with my old husband, and smile about the good things and chuckle about the stupid things and puzzle over the bad things.

NaNoWriMo starts in two days. I'm participating this year. The plan is to type it all on my typewriter, because otherwise it'll never all get done. I shall write about old people. I love old people. They have such good stories.

Man, it's so hard not to cheat! I want to start the story now, but I can't. 'Cause it's not November yet!

Your wrinkled eyes betray the joy with which you smile. - Mika Penniman, Stuck in the Middle

I just realized that I haven't posted since August.

That's not because I have nothing to say. It's just because I've been... busy. I guess. Right now I should be doing homework, but I just can't force myself to think about the Ballets Russes anymore, so I'm not doing it. I should also be doing history and philosophy readings (coincidence that we're talking about John Locke in both classes?) but I just can't bring myself to it.

My dad just got back from parent-teacher interviews. Once again, all my teachers have glowing reports about me. I guess they're all card-carrying members of my fan club. The only members, it sometimes seems. I know, I have lots of friends, and all, but in all honesty, I really only enjoy spending time with a few of them. I guess I'm like Pudge in Looking for Alaska - I'm friends with them because no one else will be, and no one else will be friends with me. But back on topic - Mrs Van Loon seems to think that I'm going into the UN or something and I'm going to single-handedly eradicate poverty, Mr Baker thinks I'm going to go on to become some great philosopher, Mrs Rodriguez thinks I'm going to study history and become a teacher or something. Miss Brouwer is the only one with a realistic veiw of my future - she thinks I'm going to do whatever the heck I want to do, and I'm going to excel at it. She, apparently, said that she's going to miss me next year, although I really don't know why she would. We hardly ever talk, and I'm super-shy in her class. She thinks that I push myself and that if everyone would push themselves like I do then the world would be full of much more fulfilled people. I only want to do well so I can keep my average above 85%, and preferably around a 90%.

Agh, but my head is spinning. I'm trying to figure out how what I'm learning in philosophy affects the way I live (so far I haven't come up with anything because it's all so ABSTRACT!). I'm trying to figure out what school to go to. I basically feel like I'm trying to figure out my whole life, at just barely seventeen. In less than a year, I'll be moved out, and moved in and settled into my new life - it's scary, but it's also really exciting.

This is definitely turning out to be one of the best years of my life.

DFTBA
Jennie.Rae