What to do at 3am

I have now unsucessfully started, and then erased 3 blogs. One was about having trouble sleeping (boring). The next one started out about my teenage habits of staying up late to organize my cd collection and the drawers in my room. Then - wondering why people sometimes ask you what animal you'd want to be and why, and how stupid this type of question is (what flavor of ice cream would you be?). I think I'm just too hungry and too excited about a new song to feel sleepy. The hungry part comes with ignoring dinner to work on recording. Jillian and I wrote a new song recently, inspired by the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, and it deals with someone struggling with cancer, and the battle they face and all the mixed emotions that go along with it. We wrote it several weeks ago, and tried not to cry much during the process. I've heard it too many times now for it to really move me like it did at first, but hearing it recorded and almost finished tonight gave me chills and made me tear up. I'm really hoping that people are moved and maybe inspired. It will soon be available for download on our website, and the proceeds will go towards our fundraising. I'm excited about it. Not gonna lie. Duh.
Now that this is all off my chest, I hope I can sleep....

Ah, life.

When I really think about it, after 27 (and a half) years on this planet, I still feel in awe of life. That sounds pretty ridiculous. I know. But it's true. I make myself crazy when I begin asking "Why?" I'm not a "religious" person, but I do believe in God. But I don't understand it. Like why we are all here in the first place. For God? But why? Because God wanted us here? But why? Where do we go after this? To Heaven? Hell? Another body? The open air? Nowhere? All these questions make me nuts. And it makes it worse when you think about it regarding someone you love who died. You want to believe that they are in Heaven, dancing with God, jumping on clouds, feeling free and loved and warm and happy. Or maybe that they are still around, giving you signs to say "Hello" and watching over you to keep you feeling free and loved and warm and happy. Or maybe their spirit has gone into a new body, in order to work out the problems from their last life. It makes you feel at ease to believe these things. But who knows for sure? And why can't we know for sure? It's a part of the mystery of life. One of the many "whys" that spins me in circles. It's frustrating as Hell. If Hell is in fact a frustrating place. I would think it is.

So, I will try not to ask why for a little while. Try not to fill up my mind with questions I can't answer. I will just believe and hope and love. And know that things are always ok, even without knowing why.

Blogging = Totally Foreign to Me

I just stared at the word foreign for too long. What a weird word. Now I can't stop looking at it! I even had to check that I spelled it right. Side note: It's one of the only words that rhymes with my name. That and Neosporin. Unless you use an apostrophe with an "ing" word, like "Yesterday I went explorin'" (a statement that should only be reserved for Davey Crockett).
Anyway, I'm moving away from my point. What was my point? Oh yeah, that I don't really understand blogging. There is a whole world of bloggers out there! And they have weird terms and use all these crazy sites to get traffic to their blog. Foreign. To me, anyway. I told a few people yesterday that I started a blog. They asked, "About what?" I said, "Nothing." Do you have to focus on something? Am I missing a crucial element? Well, so what if I am. At the moment, I don't have a specific "thing". And no, I haven't seen Julie & Julia.

I told myself I would clean, but I'm doing this instead

I have been sitting with my laptop on my lap for about an hour and a half now. Wasting time. Looking at Facebook, Twitter, Myspace, YouTube; just about everything possible to distract me from the mess that is my apartment. Almost time to go to work. Oops. Somehow I feel like this is more productive. Setting up a blog. Why? I don't know. I don't write enough these days. I have a degree in Literature and Writing, and I don't read enough, and I don't write enough. So I'm changing that. Right now. The Time Traveler's Wife is on the couch beside me. I'm 18 pages in. Wow, I'm well on my way to reading and writing more. I feel so proud. No, it's not Chaucer or Shakespeare, but whatever. At least it's something. The more time you spend out of school, the less intelligent you feel. Well, I do anyway. Proof-reading tax forms and brochures only keeps me on my toes for a few minutes at a time. Ok, time to tidy up.