How to be alone

I recently listened to an audiobook by Jonathan Franzen titled How to be Alone. It is actually a compilation of essays, opening with the story of the death of Franzen's father, who suffered with Alzheimer's for years. He talks about books, of course, and cities, and writing, relationships, the curse of television, and how to be alone. These essays really intrigued me because I loved the way Franzen drew so much insight out of the ordinary, day-to-day monotony we lose ourselves in. It's a strange sensation to feel alone in a crowd, but it a feeling every human being can identify with. Even if you don't live in a big city or go out much, we have all felt loneliness. And the cool thing is, it's not always bad.

I am introvert, and I love to read books alone, process my emotions alone, watch movies alone, and just be alone a lot. But there are many times I have to get away from myself and my own thoughts. I like to have fun and be social, but I have also learned that sometimes I can be the only companion I need. I used to fear being alone in terms of never falling in love and getting married and thus, ending up alone. Now I crave my alone time, and when I think back to a great day spent alone, my mind travels back to the summer of 2010 when I studied abroad in France.

I got to do a lot of traveling while I was in France, but because it was such a short time and I was so engrossed in the language and culture, I wanted to stay in France. On my second to last weekend in the country, the group of girl friends I had gained during my experience decided they wanted to stay in Aix, (Aix-en-Provence) where we lived to go shopping. I had traveled to many nearby villages on the bus in groups, but I desperately wanted to visit the town of Avignon because of its history. I didn't want to go alone, but I also didn't want to go shopping. My suitcase was full and I could shop in the states, so at the last minute I decided to be adventurous and go by myself.

I walked to the bus station, spoke in French unaccompanied, and boarded a bus for a 3 hour ride to the beautiful town of Avignon. I had a nervous excitement as I sat on the bus, realizing I was alone, in a foreign country, about the spend the whole day in a new town....alone! I felt some fear, but on the bus I distracted myself with prayer, music, and some good reads. When I arrived in town, I didn't really have a game plan, so I just started following the people who looked like tourists. I eventually asked someone, and they led me to the tourist center where I bought a map. I then found a cafe and planned to map out my course for the day over a cafe au lait. I began to soak up the atmosphere around me, feeling to quintessentially French, when suddenly my waiter dropped an entire glass of Orangina on me. He apologized profusely, even as I assured him to not worry. I'm sure he would've received quite the word-lashing from most French women. My drink was free and he brought me a meal for free as well. I still left him a tip :)

As I left the cafe, sticky but unfazed, I began to just walk. I tried to follow my map for a while, but then I decided to just wander. I visited the palace of the popes, and walked through a park. I remember certain moments of the day, thinking, I'm alone. But the feeling was invigorating. I felt independent and spontaneous, and I was loving everything I witnessed around me. The day was simple, and I boarded my bus on-time to return home. My parents were horrified when I told them what I had done, but I didn't want them worrying the whole time, which is why I didn't tell them sooner. To this day my mom will say, "I can't believe you spent a whole day alone in a foreign place," and I'll just smile, looking back on the fond memory.

This simple memory will stick with me, reminding me that there is always an opportunity for an adventure, and it will always teach you something new about yourself. I was so proud that the girl who had once cried every day of summer camp being away from her parents was now on her own in France. "Alone" has a negative connotation when it shouldn't. Alone does not equal lonely, and it does not mean that no one cares. Practicing the art of being alone has made me more secure of who I am, and I know I have a life of practicing it ahead of me, whether I get married or not, whether I live in a crowded area or not.

Add this to your reading list.

I recently finished reading the memoir Surprised by Oxford by Carolyn Weber and it has become one of my favorite books. Carolyn's story is one of faith, love, and there is no shortage of books. She travels to Oxford to get her Graduate degree in Romantic Literature, my absolute dream, and ends up finding God in the process. Set in one of the most beautiful academic environments in the world, this memoir shows how intellect can only come so far before you recognize your need for more.

I love this book not only for its true story, and the kindred spirit I have in the author, but also in the way I found it. One of my favorite things to do when I'm happy or unhappy is to go to a bookstore. It's a remedy when I'm lonely, celebration when I'm feeling good, and perfect companion even when I want to be alone. I'll wander through the shelves, occasionally plucking one from its home to flip through its pages. When I bought this book this summer, it was in this exact format. I was needing some alone time, not looking for anything in particular, when I happened upon it. At that time I was disappointed at deciding not to study abroad at Oxford in the fall like I had always dreamed, so when I saw this book's title and read the back, I knew it was buy-worthy.

I hope to one day have a graduate degree in Romantic Literature, and my favorite poet is John Donne, so when I opened this book to its first page and found an introductory quote from Donne, I nearly fainted. I hadn't even read one line from the author and thought, "I have to meet this woman!"

In the book she talks about her journey from being an agnostic, to falling completely head-over-heels in love with Jesus Christ. It did not happen quickly, and her own romantic love story is interwoven in the book, not being revealed until the end. She keeps it underwraps because the focus of the book is her faith journey, within the old, scholarly world of Oxford. I could totally relate to the author's description of herself: "Totally idealistic, I was the quintessential student...With college, my life opened up more than I could have ever imagined: into art, and history, and philosophy, and argumentation, and statistics, and post-colonial theory. I began to understand my own spot of existence in relation to the history of ideas. I began to see, both scarily and comfortingly, that all I thought had been thought before. I began to see how studying the humanities illuminates humanitas or "what it means to be human." What it means to become human. The decisions and the responsibilities of becoming truly humane."

Carolyn Weber is a brilliant writer, not only because of her vast knowledge, but for her honesty, insight, and humor. I felt so inspired after reading it, and it made me think of my own faith journey and all the doubts and assurances I have had over the years. Weber nearly knocked me off my feet with this simple observation: " I now understand why the words conversation and conversion are evocative of each other, turning toward each other, yet separated merely by where you are "at." There have been many times that I have had deeply spiritual conversations with friends who don't believe in God or Jesus, and they will be resolute in their opposition, completely unwilling to accept certain answers for their questions of Why does God allow pain and suffering? Why do children die? If He's real, why doesn't He show up? How can I be a sinner when I haven't done anything that bad? How can I be expected to believe everything in the Bible? and the list goes on and on... Carolyn Weber was once on the other end, and she tells of how she slung these questions like arrows at the man who became her husband, and even though his answers never changed, her heart did overtime.

She learned that faith is not the opposite of reason, accepting Christ's gift of salvation isn't weakness, and that God is truly a loving, faithful father, unlike that one she grew up with. What amazing truth!

She never writes with an air of haughtiness or pride, but with pure confidence in the Gospel she now believes. Her story is honest, confessing all her previous mistakes and struggles, as well as all she faced while at Oxford. Even though it is set in such a idyllic place, her story is down-to-earth, easy to relate to, and captivating.

I can't say enough about it. Go read it!

Christmas spirit!

I am a movie buff. That's a bit of an understatement; I'm kind of a movie fanatic. I am one of those people who will go to a theater alone, but that could just be the introvert in me. I have this secret dream of becoming a screenwriter. The only bad thing about watching so many movies, and I only watch credible ones (you won't see American Pie or a horror flick on my shelf), is that I picture life as a movie. This can make things disappointing at times, not gonna lie. It makes me kind of live in a fantasy world. My friends will tell you I'm quite the movie quoter, and while they're impressed I'm a little bit ashamed. I'm ashamed because it's like I'm living vicariously. I've never been in love, I'm not a parent, I don't have special gifts, and I live in a world that is, for the most part, stable. So now it's the Christmas season and there are a lot of awful holiday movies out there- just turn on Lifetime or ABC Family. But Christmas movies don't make me feel ashamed, because Christmas at my house and just the spirit in general feels like a fantasy, but is real. It's magical, it's beautiful, am I being cliche? Yes, but it's Christmas so it's okay. Here's my list of Top 5 favorite holiday films:

1. Christmas Vacation

Best Christmas movie of all time, in my opinion. My family watches this every year and laugh at all the same parts. 















2. Elf

 "I painted a picture of a butterfly! I love you, I'll call you in five minutes."

"Dad I'm in love I'm in love and I don't care who knows it! You have elves working here too?"

It just doesn't get any better than Buddy the Elf.










3. It's a Wonderful Life

 If this movie doesn't make you cry, shame on you.











4. A Christmas Story

This movie made me scared of Santa Claus. And I have always wanted Ralphie's bunny pajamas. "Fra-gee-lay... Oh it must be Italian!"
"It's a special award!" A leg lamp is never a special reward.








5. Scrooged

Oh Bill Murray, he never ceases to disappoint. He definitely makes this movie, oh and watch out for the fairy with the toaster!

Wrapping up...and I don't mean presents

It's all becoming very surreal to me: this is my last semester of undergraduate classes. In a month I will be in a high school... with high schoolers... teaching... or at least trying to. Ah.

Where have the years gone? How can I step into a classroom full of High School Juniors and Seniors and teach them about sonnets, The Great Gastby, and research papers when I still feel like one of them? Yes I feel more mature in some ways, but I'm still scared to death to stand up in front of people! My face flushes, I speak rapidly, and I lose my train of thought. The one confidence I have is that I love literature.

All these years of preparation have brought me to this place, and I still feel like I'm about to walk on-stage after dozens of rehearsals, not knowing my lines. I guess my biggest fear is to not do things right, even though I believe students shouldn't only be focused on the "right answers." So why do I?

I've always loved being a student. I love to learn. I love to sit in a desk, waiting for what new knowledge a teacher or professor has to share and offer for the day. It makes me feel that each day is an accomplishment, even if I did nothing else significant. It makes me feel a part of something, and I love using these brilliant creative brains God gave us. I don't ever want to squander this gift. I'm just scared to get out of the desk.

It's hard to tell yourself: you can do this, you're ready, you've worked hard, God has gave you a passion. All I can think is: don't screw up, don't screw up, don't screw up. And as I reflect on this I'm realizing, all I'm thinking about here is me. How I will be perceived, my abilities as a teacher, my weaknesses, my knowledge and lack thereof. The whole reason I chose this path was not for me, but for the individuals sitting in those desks.

My dream is to be the teacher I loved and looked up to in high school. To be the English teacher that laughed at herself, made books come alive, showed every emotion she felt when reading a poem, and would knock on the table enthusiastically when a student made an insight. That teacher is one who is there entirely for the students, and her love for literature and passion for learning passed on to me. In a way, I am her legacy, and I want to honor her and all the people who have impacted me by being the best teacher I can be.

I'm realizing that fear is not always a bad thing, it's just how you choose to react to it and use it. I can let it cripple me, or empower me. I can let it taint my abilities and experience, or fuel them. I can give it to Christ, or attempt to carry it alone.

So this is my last week of classes, and next week comes finals. Then the joy and beauty of Christmas, and before I know it I'll be in the classroom. Here we go :)

If you're goin' to San Francisco...

Be sure to wear flowers in your hair.

I went to San Francisco in August. I wore a flower in my hair. I got one comment/reference to the 1960s song. Score! I watched a movie this weekend (The Five-Year Engagement), which was pretty funny and cute, and it's set it San Fran, which made me reflect back to my little visit there. I was visiting my sister and her boyfriend who live in Sacramento, so we took a day trip to San Fran. Can I keep calling it that?

We started out at the popular tourist sites, though sadly I didn't get to ride one of those rail car things. The weather was beautiful and the city was vibrant, fun, and lovely. Unfortunately all of San Fran's charms became slowly lost on me as we trekked over 6 miles, from which I developed the worst blisters of my life. If my family was reading this, they would all chuckle and scold me, because I've been known to not have the best shoe choice when it comes to functionality. This wasn't the first time I wore uncomfortable shoes on a trip where we did a lot of walking, and I'm sure it won't be the last. I just didn't want to look like the typical tourist in tennis shoes with a camera and fanny pack. I like to pretend like I'm blending in!

We started our day's trip at Pier 39 and then set off toward the Golden Gate Bridge. My sister and her boyfriend are geocache fanatics. In case you don't know what that is, basically they like to think they are treasure hunters, when really you get on a website, pick a location, get GPS coordinates, and find a box with random trinkets and a notepad of all the people who have found it. Okay, it's pretty cool. The box, or whatever it is, usually only has random items like a pencil, piece of gum, coin, stamp, keychain, toy car, etc. Our geocache coordinates took us from Pier 39 all the way down to the yacht club and out to this ocean wave organ. The waves made sounds as you put your ear up to different pipes! Pretty cool, I must say, and it gave us awesome views of the bridge and the ocean.

The walk to our restaurant was absolutely awful. That's not just me being dramatic. My feet were already sore and blistered, and our restaurant was in Japantown...uphill. Have you seen San Fran's hills? Whoa...I would not want to drive a standard car in this town. I wish I could say I pulled it together and made it, but I didn't. I sat down on a sidewalk and told my sister I couldn't go any further. Sounds like an epic journey, right? We got a cab and it was all dandy :)

I want to go back to this city someday. It was fun and beautiful, and I love the architecture of the homes. Now go to listen to that Scott McKenzie song :)

I miss Africa.

 I've never seen so many beautiful smiles :)

 They love to learn!

 This is my buddy Caleb, the sweetest and most beautiful boy I could ever imagine. I won't hold it against him that he's wearing an Obama shirt ;)

I love babies!!!!

I've always loved to travel. There's something so magical to me about being in a new place, surrounded by people and sights I've never witnessed before. I've had the privilege of being able to visit so many incredible places and make precious memories. I've been on mission trips to Guatemala with my grandparents' compassion ministry, and seeing the severe poverty prepared me for my recent journey to Uganda this last May. Even though I've had mission trip experience, nothing could have prepared me for not only the intense poverty and suffering I witnessed in Africa, but also the abundance of joy, hope, and kindness I witnessed. From the moment my team arrived in Entebbe, we were shown such hospitality and generosity that we immediately felt at home. Today I'm missing the red dirt that caked my shoes and the bottom of my long skirts I had to wear. I'm missing the bumpy, frightening van rides, our hut and mosquito nets, and the food. More than anything, I miss the people. I miss their absolutely beautiful, black faces, and their luminous smiles. I miss the way the children chased after us in their bare feet, begging for their picture to be taken. I miss hearing their life stories, and how they persevered through trial after trial. Their English was slow, enunciated, and quiet. It was like a soothing murmur against our loud, jumbled American voices. I miss hearing their laughs as tried to speak their language. I miss the way the people worshiped God with humility and reckless abandon. We heard stories of children dying, parents dying, siblings dying, whether from war, HIV, or any other number of tragedies. Still, these people had the faith to move mountains. I love this place and these people more than I can explain. I went to Africa to serve and to give my all to be a blessing to the people I encountered. I immediately felt overwhelmed when I arrived, because I found myself being served and blessed beyond what I could comprehend. I hope one day God brings me back :)

Goin' to the chapel...

Shakespeare's Sonnet 116 is the first one that popped up in the google search bar, which kind of disappoints me because I feel like that means it's overused. Oh well. Today I read this in my Shakespeare class, and it seemed so fitting since my best friend is getting married this weekend. Weddings are a beautiful mess. I'll just say it. They are wonderful celebrations, but I don't think there could be a wedding without some chaos. I guess it's fitting for life! I'm so happy for her, and I'm so thankful to get to be part of their special day, and though this sonnet may be a cliche wedding blessing, any chance to get to quote a little Shakespeare makes me feel good!

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
   If this be error and upon me proved,
   I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Love Does.

I read this book over the summer, and as is the tradition in my family, passed it along. My mom first read it, loved it, and proceeded to buy 4 more copies- one for each person in my family. Usually if my mom does this I say to her, "mom, as a fellow book-lover and collector I understand what you're doing, but you're killing more trees!" She would respond by telling me she was supporting a great author (who, in this case, gives the proceeds to Africa) and that everyone in our family simply had to have this book on their shelves. This is one of those books. There's plenty of Christian books out there that talk about love in action, but this book is witty, funny, heart-wrenching, and beautifully refreshing. Bob Goff gets back to the basics, while still being forward-thinking. He relates every story in his life- even the most obscure and minute ones, into an analogy of God's love. Each chapter begins with "I used to think..." showing how his life has transformed all because of Christ, and how he lives each day to show others this great gift. My favorite of these statements, perhaps, was this: "I used to think you had to be special for God to use you, but now I know you simply need to say yes." As I was reading this book and all the great things Bob has done to glorify God, I kept thinking to myself how Bob was special. One of the greatest tragedies of human life is the feeling of being so insignificant, when Jesus Christ died for all of us, and would have died for even just one of us. Bob said yes, Joan of Arc said yes, Mother Theresa said yes, I can say yes, and so can you. This book changed my life. READ IT.

"What I've learned the more time I've spent following Jesus is that God delights in answering our impossible prayers. The kind of prayers made in a dark cell by someone holding unwashed hands. Prayers asking for the things we couldn't possibly think could happen for us or someone else. Ones we might even feel a little bad saying, as if it's just asking God for too much. But what we need most is to return to Him, to return to our lives."

"I've learned that God sometimes allows us to find ourselves in a place where we want something so bad that we can't see past it. Sometimes we can't even see God because of it. When we want something that bad, it's easy to mistake what we truly need for the thing we really want. When this sort of thing happens, and it seems to happen to everyone, I've found it's because what God has for us is obscured from view, just around another bend in the road."

"Because of our love for each other, I understand just a little more how God has pursued me in creative and whimsical ways, ways that initially did not get my attention. Nevertheless, He wouldn't stop. That's what love does--it pursues blindly, unflinchingly, and without end. When you go after something you love, you'll do anything it takes to get it, even if it costs everything."

Album of the week? This is the album of the decade...

I am not someone who jumps on the bandwagon. I also don't like to be that person that says, "I liked those before those were popular," but I will say that I did read and enjoy all the Twilight books before that craziness, and I have loved Mumford & Sons long before they appeared on the radio with their last album. I have a wide variety of friends, and one of my more country conservative friends just recently told me he didn't listen to Mumford & Sons because they are too "hipster and mainstream." Why does indie music have to be associated with the style that has been labeled "hipster" just in our decade? I am a girl from southwest Kansas, I love some good ol' country music, and even though I have some liberal thoughts in my head, I guess if I had to "label" myself I would be conservative. I don't wear trendy hobo clothes or architect glasses and I don't ride a bike or vespa. I like coffee, but I'm not obsessed with taking pictures of it. I don't really care if food is organic or not, and whatever else stereotypes someone as a "hipster", I don't really qualify for. This band and this album is pure genius. These guys are poets, and they create beautiful music that leaves me awestruck. My personal opinion? Yes, but I just really think this band shouldn't fall into a category that would make others outside that circle feel as if it's not their style. Just listen to the lyrics people, those are for everyone because they write about the human experience. I love every song on this album and their last, but if I had to narrow it down to a favorite on this one I would say check out "Holland Road" and the album opener "Babel." Go listen and decide for yourself :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UDWCScrWeo

To the woods!

 These are some photos I snapped over the week-end! We saw a MOOSE!!!

This weekend I traveled out to the beautiful Colorado mountains with my parents to close down our family cabin for the winter season. Our cabin is nestled in the mountains of Taylor Park, a namesake of which I am very proud. This place is my sanctuary: surrounded by pines and a few scattered aspens, perched on a hill overlooking a pond and river, with mountains saluting our land from across the road. I love this place. I will be completely cliché here and say that if home is where the heart is, this place is most certainly my home. When I drive up the gravel road, turn a corner and see our hammock, our elk racks hanging on the garage, and the variety of birdhouses and feeders my grandma has decorated the outside with, I can barely contain my joy. I take a breath of the pure mountain air and I feel filled, despite the thin atmosphere. When I am here, my thoughts echo Thoreau: “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

My dad taught me to fly-fish out in these streams, and I am convinced there is no greater feeling than when that trout strikes the line, you reel him in, and land your prize on the bank. It’s an altogether unique form of bliss; rivaled only, for me, by rocking a baby to sleep. Kansas has its own form of beauty—probably the most beautiful sunsets around, but the woods and mountains are enchanting. I love feeling like a hermit in our cabin. I’ll cuddle up with a blanket and cup of tea by our wood-burning stove and think, “this is the life.” When I am here, I forget everything that worries and plagues me back home in my everyday life. I read books, wander through the woods, scope out wildlife, laugh with my loved ones, and lay on our deck to observe what seems like millions of stars. I don’t think about where I’ll be in a year—if I’ll have a job, if I’ll have a love interest, who our president will be—I am completely thankful for the present moment.

Sometimes I fantasize about completely abandoning the real world and escaping to the woods as Thoreau did at Walden Pond, away from the constraints and suffocation of society. When my mind turns toward this course, I’m reminded of the movie Into the Wild, which I believe was first a book based on a true story. In this movie, a young man completely abandons his life and escapes to the wilderness of Alaska, where he believes he will find life’s true meaning. He meets a variety of people along the way, including an old man father-figure that makes me cry every time I watch a certain scene in the movie. He ends up eating some poisonous berries and slowly starves to death. As his life slowly and agonizingly ends, he is confronted with the conviction that “happiness is only real when shared.” I don’t want to turn my back on the world or the people I love and seek the wilderness to fulfill me. The truth is that it gets to be extremely isolating and you feel alienated and insignificant. In the bustle and chaos of the world, as well as in the stillness and tranquility of the woods, my one constant is that Christ is alive in me. He has rescued me from sin and death, and living a life to honor him does not involve rejecting the world and all the lost souls in it; quite the opposite, actually.

Note: I wrote this blog while I was at our cabin, and while we were there my parents received a phone call informing them that my “poppy” (my mom’s dad) had a stroke. It is almost a year to the day that he had his first stroke, and the news made us immediately pack up and head home early. As I looked at his picture on the wall of the cabin holding a monster of a fish, with that bright, huge smile, I prayed. I asked what I’m sure all people ask God in moments of crisis. I prayed for peace, for his protection, for God’s will. My dad prayed, and simply said, “God, we trust You with him.” That’s what it really comes down to. In moments of helplessness and fear, you can either trust God no matter the outcome, or let the fear and worry overwhelm you. I’m so happy to report that my beloved poppy is doing much better, and I give all the glory to God.

Shout out to my metaphysical homies

Probably no one knows this about me. Well, maybe a few of my fellow English majors, but not my family or closest friends. They would say, who are these mystery men you're obsessed with? There have been times I have tried to introduce the special people in my life to the greatness of these men, but I don't think I've gotten through to them completely. So I hope you read and appreciate a poem from this genius of a man, whose words feed my soul. Without further ado, I give you, John Donne.

A VALEDICTION FORBIDDING MOURNING

AS virtuous men pass mildly away,
   And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
   "Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."

So let us melt, and make no noise,
   No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys
   To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears;
   Men reckon what it did, and meant;
But trepidation of the spheres,
   Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love
   --Whose soul is sense-- cannot admit
Of absence, 'cause it doth remove
   The thing which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined,
   That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind,
   Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
   Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
   Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
   As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
   To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
   Yet, when the other far doth roam,
It leans, and hearkens after it,
   And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
   Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
   And makes me end where I begun.

You're so nice...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wYWv_NSBZQI
This is going to be a stereotypical single gal post. My apologies. This week was just one of those weeks where the whole "content with being single" mindset flew out the window. It happens from time to time. Let me be clear: I am not the type of girl that sits around reading Victorian novels listening to sad British pop music, writing in my journal about my longing to find true love. Now, I won't say I haven't ever done that, but it's not a habit. Anyway, this song came on my shuffle one day and it pretty much summed up the way I was feeling. This isn't just a song for the single, but maybe for the brokenhearted or rejected. I'm not trying to depress anyone, but I love the lyrics in this song because they are so honest and straightforward. I can tell she didn't sit down to write it hoping for her gloom to be translated into poetic genius. She just wrote what she felt, and it resonated with me. There's someone out there that I wish knew when I meant two sugars I actually meant three. One day... Sometimes being alone feels just fine, and other times, it leaves a bitter taste behind.