Breetelgeuse

It seems as though I have missed out on a lot of people’s lives lately. I don’t really like being busy all the time the way I am.

How do other people do it? I’m a full time student and part time employee and I try to devote my life to artistry and creativity and music but it’s tough to focus on everything when there’s hardly any time.

I find family time extremely important and value friendships and relationships I’ve established. I just wish I had more time in the day. It’s tough even finding time to do laundry and cleaning and getting groceries. I still somehow manage to sing my heart out and be in a band. My hand is still sprained and I am experiencing a ton of pain, but I’m managing to do a little bit of everything that I love each week. I love this strict schedule, though.

I can’t put it into words how excited I am… I’ve always wanted to see them live and I finally get to! Since forever ago, I have had this vision of reaching the doors of Bethel church and undergoing a huge life-altering experience. I come with high expectations. I know the God of Jesus Culture. He speaks through their music at a more profound level than I have ever been able to understand and fully comprehend. His presence is THERE. HERE. NOW. whenever I turn on their songs. Every single time. This is all beyond words. I’m sure someone out there understands what I’m talking about.

I do not believe you have to be a reader to be a writer. Sure, come out of a good book learning a thing or two about life, about the value of words, and about the writer him or herself. But, don’t get caught up in thinking like Fitzgerald or, dare I say, J.K. Rowling when you write your own stuff. Quit thinking, “I want this to be creative,” and just… flow from your soul. I am a strong believer in creating your own style out of a few methods you’ve observed. That goes for anything in life. Too many people are caught up in seeing an already formed concept and making it their own instead of observing the method and motive behind it and going about it in the opposite direction. I believe the greatest artists out there are not those who are able to take a tune, a piece of clothing, or story concept that has already been made and tweaking it to fit their fancies, but those who were born with the urge to rebel. They are the ones that want to change your way of thinking when you listen to their song or read their book.

I think it’s rude to request an audience to say, “Well, that was nice.” Too many rude people out there. I believe it is required and crucial that I do not let the audience down easy. I came to change them and will not allow them to come out of my performance the same person they came into it. 3/4/2012

Everybody except Jesse is out of town. He has work and class during the day and is home alone for the time being. Naturally, and since they always keep the door unlocked at their house, I felt this tug on my heart to clean their kitchen for his wonderful mama while they are away. I started yesterday afternoon before Jay got home. Honestly, I could clean forever. I don’t know what else to do for them. How do you return the favors of somebody who is more financially stable than you, who gives you more than enough support and love and encouragement, who is like a parent to you? I just can’t return what they have instilled in my heart. I can only try by blessing them and giving back as much as I can, any way that I can as a young person. If they don’t notice the cleaning I did, or even thank me for it or anything, I hope they understand I pray for them all the time. I prayed as I cleaned. I thanked God for this family. Idk, I have never felt so connected and accepted to another family.

Today at work (I work at a restaurant), I sat this young girl and these two older ladies for Happy Hour. The younger girl went to high school with my younger sister, I forget which year she graduated. Anyway, she’s younger than me. I’m not even 21 yet. This is Happy Hour, where margaritas that are usually $7.99 are $3.99. After a while, I looked over at their table and all three ladies had a margarita, including the young girl. At this point, I face a major battle in my conscience.

Do I let it slide? She knows I know that she’s not 21. Do I tell the manager? Dang, she’ll hate me and their server won’t get a tip. If anybody else reports her to the cops, the store could close down…. Well, I did the right thing. I told my manager and they took the drink away after she refused to provide her I.D. I felt really weird. Nervous and shaking, I eventually calmed down and really thought through what just happened. If she would have walked out of the restaurant after me seeing her drink, she may have approved of me, but my conscience would have been extremely sick with guilt. I couldn’t have dealt with the massive amount of guilt that would be there if I hadn’t done the right thing and busted her out for breaking the law. Sure, I’ll be called a snitch, goody-two-shoes, snobby bitch, snooty, stuck up christian girl, but I will always do the right thing. My conscience will always be clear.

No place in which I am employed will anybody I know be ‘above the law.’ Not on my watch. It’s okay, what people say about me when it comes to situations like that I do not care to meditate on. I really don’t! I face a lot of hatred and persecution for abiding by the law all the time. Something as simple as respecting the laws set before me, I’m mocked for. Always have been, always will be. But, hey. I’m not the one in trouble. I can’t believe people get mad at ME when they are caught for stupid stuff like that. You’re just pissed you couldn’t get away with breaking the law. Whatever. I still have my job and my managers got to observe that my moral beliefs are firm and do not waiver. It’s the law. Don’t eff with it. Good day.

SMILEY FACE :D 

On my days off I know I am supposed to be working on everything that I can’t get done when I work at my job, but something within me just always says, “Relax. You won’t get many days like this when you’re older.” At what point do I ignore that and get on with the day? When I get on with the day, is that when I am officially an adult? This isn’t a lazy Monday. I hiked, swam, ran, walked, climbed, waited on people, hardly ate healthy, sang my heart out, cuddled, and thought and thought this weekend, and am just physically exhausted beyond the norm.

Today, I have to do laundry. I have to cook. I have to clean. I have to organize. I have to pray. I have to write music. I have to make huge life decisions. It is already 2:00pm. All of that is delayed so far because I am still lying in bed on my computer. I often feel that tug of pressure (I’m actually not sure what it really is or where it is stemmed, probably from my parents or society) that I’m not doing much with my life and that I HAVE to start doing something right away so I feel like I am making all of the time I have on Earth worth my while. I am feeling that right now. I think I’m just hungry and guilty beyond belief.

Onto the topic of love. I don’t know what it is about him that changed my stubborn, independent attitude. It may just be his very existence, his entity, and his presence in my life that changed the fact that I used to truly believe that I could wait and am too young for all of this. Now, I am eager to grow closer to him. I yearn to. I ache for him, his touch, his assurance, his attention. Knowing nobody else knows him the way I do makes me feel worthy and special. I won’t lie, the closer I get to him, the more about myself is revealed. I am desperate, self-conscious, sometimes really insecure in who I am. I come to this realization just by looking at him. How weird is that? That I see myself within him. He brings Brigitte out. Ooooh, shivers.

At this point, I just really want to call him my boyfriend. That’s the next step, realistically, socially, logically. I keep looking back to how things were and how different our friendship was a while ago. The truth of this whole thing is that we can never, never, ever, ever go back to how things used to be. Judging solely on how I feel about him right this very moment I am completely fine with that. We grow ever closer with each day. I haven’t stopped learning about him yet and know I may never which is so exciting.

And then I compare this situation to my relationship with Christ. Indeed, God is love. ««««« This revelation has answered a ton of my life questions. I often wonder about specific aspects of love- what it really is, where the proof is that it really exists, how I know it’s real, where it is found… These same things I once wondered about God Himself. And as I dive deeper into the Bible, the definition of love is made ever clear and I see life differently. “Love is patient, love is kind. Love does not envy or boast, it is not proud. It doesn’t keep a record of wrongs. It is not easily angered, it is not self-seeking, and rejoices in truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves.” Something like that. What a beautiful thing, love. It is literally written out and defined for me on paper. So far in my life I have not experienced anything that proves this definition wrong.

So, when I think of what a perfectly functioning relationship is, I HAVE to look at the one between me and God. There is no other place I can turn to. People suck and are inconsistent. So, where is the ultimate example of what my love should be like? God has been nothing but accepting, caring, comforting. HE himself as an entity has been patient and kind with me. He has virtually no temper when I mess up. He does not envy the relationships I have with others because He knows I am His. He doesn’t brag about anything, nor is He prideful. I could kill a man, have sex before getting married, lie to my parents, underage drink, do cocaine, go 90mph in a 65, steal, anything and everything. Then, when I finally break down and face Him like the coward I am, He still takes me in and erases all of the things I have done (That’s what it is about- Being made new, reborn). God is love. I want to be love, too.

Love is the purpose of my existence. I came into the world because HE loved me and am expected to live out a life of LOVE because “He first loved us.” Sure, I often fear that my family does not see all of the love I can possibly give to them. It really starts at home, in private with my parents and siblings. If I can’t love them, how could I ever expect to show love to anyone else? Friends, boyfriends, strangers…? I also fear that Jesse may not understand that I am trying to learn to love him. Fear is just a four letter word. It is a petty excuse not to give my all in everything I do. Agape love, the highest form of love in the Greek language. God is agape. Unconditional, true, sacrificial. I want that tatted. Agape.

Anyway, yeah. Love is great. I want to be Jesse’s girl. I want to grow closer to God. This has been a Monday post. 

Especially today. Dishes done, laundry still going and hung up to dry, bathroom cleaned, fresh sheets, clean room, vacuumed house, groceries bought, about to try a new recipe of cookies, and then I’m off to work. That’s normal, right? I can’t wait to have my own place. I want to get married. There’s no motivation when I do things for myself. I am too modest to keep everything in check and clean for myself. It’s not a lazy thing, it’s a lack of motivation. Haha. I can’t wait to start hair school. This has been a typical post by a young woman. I don’t mind doing all of these things. It’s like work. Nike, just do it.

-Karen Allen, Animal House

It’s a lovely Monday. I don’t have to work today so I’m sitting here with a cup of joe and a cinnamon bun as I watch Animal House for the first time all the way through, ever. This movie is filled with iconic actors and I am surprised I haven’t seen it in it’s entirety sooner. College frat parties and sororities are something I will never experience. I don’t understand them and never will. From an outsider’s point of view, I think they are extremely silly. Although, I have always wanted to go to a Toga party. This icing is amazing.. Ugh.

I have had many a great weekend in my day, but this weekend was especially, spectacularly bomb. I can’t say that about many weekends I’ve had recently. I had two planned shows and ended up performing in three. I travelled a little ways, saw a couple old friends that I hadn’t seen in a while, played extraordinarily well (I am never satisfied with my performances, but Friday night’s show was two thumbs up and that’s huge), and spent the majority of the weekend with my best friend and his family as usual. I’m really not sure what I should call him anymore. We introduce each other as “friend” but anytime anybody asks if he’s my boyfriend I say yes. On Saturday, these little girls came up to me in the bathroom and were like, “Is he your boyfriend?”
I said, “Yeah.”
They giggled, “He’s cuuuuute.”

Little Mexican girls are so adorable and sweet. It took me a second to process what just happened. He was waiting outside the door for me and I kind of thought, Wait, is he really that cute?, like I forgot what he looked like or something. Then, they opened the door and I stood there, and then he was standing there all Jay-like, and my heart fluttered and I thought, dang. He IS cute. Hahaha! I’m blessed. He is so cuddly and sweet and quiet but loud and tough and stubborn and playful and serious but hilarious and kind hearted and sensitive and wow. That’s my boy. Ha. He is respectful and thoughtful and considerate of everybody. I bet this is disgustingly normal: Every time something to do with love comes on the radio or is talked about in the movies I think of him. Heck, I think of him 24/7. It’s great.

Oh, yeah. And we chilled with drunk homeless people this weekend. The same day the girls asked if he was my boyfriend, some belligerent, drunk, Mexican dude also asked the same question when he was sitting right next to me. I said yeah. He said, “He’s the same color as me!” Mind you, this was at the Latino festival, and we were in the midst of Mexico. Ha. CT and I were the only white folk there. I will say this- I have never gotten any flack or negativity for being with him. Every time we are in public, it’s like we get respected ten times more. “Ooohhh, what a beautiful thing, an interracial couple!” Mexicans love me. Everyone approves. Shweet.

Friday night was beyond epic. I performed at an overnight youth event and we separated the girls from the boys at one point. The girls opened up as soon as the boys left. There was a giant sense of unity and comfortability in the room. I wish every girl I have ever known was there with us. We heard testimonies from a couple women and young girls and I was amazed at the things these girls have had to go through. The more I hear about everybody else’s personal struggles and triumphs, the more I realize my teen life was hardly any struggle at all compared to the stuff I hear. It’s not like I didn’t go through some major trials, mine were just a lot different… A lot of the girls at my church are Latina and black and they face a lot of physical fighting at school and stuff- something I had only ever distantly observed in high school and thought was insane. It’s all so real, though. Especially to them. Gangs are real, fighting is real, drugs and alcohol are real… I dunno. I just grew up differently. Not ignorantly, differently. A lot of these girls don’t have parents that are together which I truly believe is the root of all chaos in their lives. If only more fathers would stick around… 

Anyway, and metaphorically speaking, walls and barriers in these girls lives fell down that night. These girls wept. They broke down, cried, hugged, released, and gave it all to God. Everything they had faced up until that night no longer had power over them. An overflow of forgiveness and healing washed over any pain and suffering they tried to hide. This is REAL stuff. When there were no boys around, they stopped caring about who to impress. They opened up and took off the facade that they had everything under control. It’s really something amazing to see God work in young people. I got up onto the stage and sat at the piano and I felt a tug on my heart as soon as I sat down. “Tell them to come up here,” I heard. So, I said, “If any girl in here has the desire to sing but is too nervous, or you think that you’re not good enough to be in a band, please know that I was there just a few years ago. I still am, in fact. I still struggle with self-confidence being up here and it takes every ounce of me not to jump off and say I’m too scared to sing in front of people. If any girl wants to sing, come up on stage and don’t be nervous. Stop caring what everyone thinks, just SING!”

It was incredible. A third of the girls came up on stage and were given mics to sing. A third took up the entire stage. It was just me, the piano, and a huge cluster of beautiful, BEAUTIFUL young ladies singing. Peace. Rest. Comfortability in our skin. That’s what happened right then and there. I was speechless. We didn’t want it to end. God is AMAZING!!!!!!

Mama Glo, Jay’s mom, gave a bit of her testimony and I started crying. You think you love somebody and their family and then you stop to listen to what they have faced before you met them and you can’t help but love them even more for being so brave and bold. When I say I love that family, I LOVE THAT FAMILY. I want to be a part of them so bad. They say I am, that I am a Morales. They’ve been saying that they love me, but yesterday Jesse Sr. said, “We love you. We really love you,” and he meant it. I wanted to scream. I love them so much!! I would do anything for those boys and their parents. They are so supportive and I will do anything to return the love ten fold. They are the first group of people by which I have ever truly experienced UNCONDITIONAL love. They give and give and serve and serve and forgive and love and accept and I could go on forever.

I just can’t keep my mouth shut. I have to shout. This post is near it’s end. I can hardly watch a movie anymore. I just don’t have the patience. About halfway through I am ready to run upstairs and write a song instead. Ok, the end. This was a post.

And then I’m like,
Oh, wait. Just look at me.
keep staring.

I could go to church and read the Bible and seek God’s presence forever and understand the severities of having kids outside of marriage. However, watching Teen Mom and all of these TLC shows SCARES me into not doing anything crazy and making wise decisions to NOT be like the young girls I see on the tele. Sometimes that’s what I really need. I need to watch documentaries on TV of childbirth and teens having babies in order to really grasp the reality others have to face early on and outside of marriage. I hella want babies, though. Don’t play widdit. Just in due time and with the right person (a husband) and stuff like maybe in 6 years or something…lolz Who knows what time will do and what God’s plan is until things really pick up? Haha my posts are great lately.

I don’t think I have ever watched it all the way through until today. All I can say is that Marilyn Monroe has inspired me my entire life to be pretty and she makes me feel fabulous. She makes me feel like a woman myself. I believe she is the pinnacle blonde for all of history and ideal beauty for standards in and outside of Hollywood, forever and ever. She is everything physically that I am not, except for the curves. So, naturally, I love her. My entire life I have observed my mother, grandmother, aunt and great aunts, older cousins, and family friends that are great examples of femininity and womanhood. I thank God for their examples. The most beautiful ladies in the world are in my life and of the same blood as me. I believe it. I believe that by birth I am a female, but by tradition and training I have learned how to be a woman from the greatest. That is something nobody can take from me. For whatever reason I am feeling extra lady-like today and super femme-proud. It’s not like any man has tried to strip this of me lately, but I am proud to be a woman. I am proud to have been blessed with a womanly figure and the obligation to fulfill my duties as a female are birthed from my own desires. Monroe was an example for the ladies in my family and will continue to be in future generations. She is helping keep womanhood alive.

Baddabing. That’s why I get for watching old movies where women knew their place and blahhhh I am such a romantic it’s kinda weird. I dream too much l0l0l0l0l la la la okie

I thank God for the life He has given me. I thank God for the billions of chances He has given me. I thank God for the times He has shown up when I called for His presence in a situation. I thank God for saying, “No.” I need to hear it. I thank Him for saying, “Just wait and be patient. I warn you, I will delay my promises when you act up.” Seriously… I thank Him for always taking me back when I have practically spit in His face. I thank Him for His unconditional love…

I thank Him for being silent sometimes. That way, I can learn what is HIM moving and what is just a feeling of comfort, warmth, and satisfaction. I thank Him for His lack of movement. 

I thank Him for being heavily involved in every situation that I face, whether He makes it known or not. I thank Him for hovering, for being an overprotective parent, for having MY best interest at heart. I thank Him for staying up late at night for me to come home safely. When I arrive, no matter how long I’ve been gone and no matter if I’ve lied to Him, He loves me anyway. He opens His doors and His arms and welcomes me as if I never left.

I thank God for being God, and not my interpretation of Him.