Hey, remember that time we lived?

I'm not going to die.

I mean, yes I'll eventually die just like everybody.  Eventually I'll return to the dust just like everyone does. Eventually I'll be in front of the Person Who created me and maybe if I'm lucky I'll get some answers and maybe I won't and maybe that's okay because I think everything will be okay when you're no longer a human.

Maybe it's ludicrous to say I'm not going to die because my heart could stop beating right now and I could be done.

I once thought I would know when my time is up here because I'd accomplish something and then the universe and God would be like, "Yeah, that was awesome and worth it so she can move on now."

And then this person I knew named Jamie died.

It's not like I knew him his whole life or could talk about how he had accomplished some kind of ultimate goal or anything.  I knew him for a year.

But I think what bothered me for a long time after his death was thinking he wasn't done yet.  It was hard for me to get upset when I first heard about the accident that ultimately killed him because I knew he'd pull through because he wasn't done yet.  It was an accident and the universe and God hadn't given him permission to leave yet.

And then he left.

Awhile after he left, I read this book called The Fault In Our Stars.  It's about two people who have cancer and how they live their lives and why they live their lives.

Spoilers.

One of them dies.

It's terrifying because he does some amazing things and just lives his life and then dies and he is angry before he dies because he thinks maybe he won't leave a big enough mark on the world.

Here's what I think.

FDR left an impact on the world.  So did Gandhi.  So did Hitler  So did Elvis.  So did Jack Wilson.

Jack Wilson was my granddaddy.  Most people in the world don't and won't know who he is.

But I knew who he was.  My mom knew who he was.

He lived his life just like everyone did.  I remember him sometimes, but that's not what makes his life magically worthwhile.

I want to say things now, but I'm afraid of them being cheesy or like things you say to make yourself feel better.  That's not what I want.

What I want is to feel that it doesn't matter if you have a finished or unfinished life.  It doesn't matter what you didn't mark off your bucket list before you kicked it.

I can't be upset that I feel Jamie's life was uncompleted.  I can't be upset to think that if my lungs collapsed right now I was still at university and didn't get to "really live" my life.

I'm alive.  You're alive.  Some of us are not.  But they're not in nothingness.  I don't believe that.

I'm rambling a lot, I know.  I'm a writer, we do that a lot.  I'm also under medication, and the two combined is a bad thing.

Sometimes I'm really great with taking a thought and writing it out myself and making it mine, but I don't know how successful I was this time.

Here's what I was trying to say.  I'll quote from The Fantastic Flying Books Of Mr. Morris Lessmore: "If life is enjoyable, does it have to make sense?"

I'm sorry for the incompleteness of this entry.  But I guess that's realistic of life.

Hey, remember that time we lived life?

"Some men aren't looking for anything logical."

It's late.  And medication has been a good friend tonight.  Those are my excuses.

I don't understand a lot.  I don't pretend to understand a lot.  But I do understand the things I understand.  And I understand being used.

I understand it when you need money or when you're hungry because you haven't eaten today and you don't know if you'll be able to.  I understand it when you're jealous of fancy things or just want to get a break in life.  I understand it when someone comes along and you think they're great, but if they were just like you, you would hate them.

I understand you.  So why don't you even bother to understand me.

Understanding and caring are not one-way streets. You can't feed and replenish and help and give and love and feel on nothing in return.  We love because we're humans.  We love and I don't expect anything in return.  But you should feel the same way.

I know I have sucker written on my forehead, it's okay.  I know I've been blessed far beyond what I deserve and I've never had to worry about where I'm going to sleep tonight or when my next meal will be or if I have shoes.  I don't want you to worry about it either.

But what you don't understand is that there are other things I worry about.  I worry about being loved by someone other than my family (because they don't have a choice).  I worry about being so taken advantage of I don't have real friendships, just leaches.  I worry about getting killed tomorrow and not feeling like I've accomplished anything at all.  I worry about everyone leaving because so many people have left before.

I'm not trying to call names or point my fingers or stick my nose up in the air.  It's just two in the morning and I can't sleep and I need someone else to understand that even those who are thankful they have material possession and a family that's full of love still can need something from those who have no material possessions and no family.

In the end, my stuff and your stuff doesn't mean jack.  What we have together, the emotion and touch and compassion and smiles and trueness, that's what matters.

That I understand.

Geez, The Dark Knight at one in the morning will really do something to you.

"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do / Don't plan the plan if you can't follow through."

I may not be much of a woman, but I do make a conscious effort to be one. 

Apparently men today think flirting with no real intentions and acting like 10 year olds and not being man enough to stand up for things (like women) is what a "real man" is supposed to look like.

I'll take singleness with a fictional character over that mess.

No boy can ever measure up to fictional characters.  Check. 

But that doesn't stop women from wishing boys could learn to grow up to be men, not just older boys.

"That song has emotions in it. Weird."

I love people who are in love with what they do. 

I had a conversation with my friend Bo The Trolley Driver the other day.  We talked about people who get stuck in their own lives and can't find a way to be happy in it.  I told him that I never wanted to get that way. 

I'm not dumb enough to think I'll get everything I want, or even anything I want.  I'm not dumb enough to even think I'll be half the things I think I want to end up being.

But I would like to know that I made the conscious choice to decide to do what I am happy in doing in everything.

My friend Kelsie and I had this great conversation two weeks ago and I'm still thinking about it, which goes to show how great a conversation it was.  She told me she picked the guy she is engaged to and she knows that it was her decision to marry him or not or be happy with him or not and she decided for herself what was right for her.

I want to know that even if I'm poor and living in a not-so-great apartment and don't have everything easy but I'm writing or doing what I decided was right for me, I'd be happy.  I want to know that even if I had to give up some of my own dreams because I met someone who cared enough to spend his life sharing it with me and make a worthwhile life with me, I'd be happy because it was my decision to give up to gain with him. I want to know that if I spent my life somehow changing the lives of others and that means I have to be alone, I'd be happy because I made the decision. 

 I don't want to feel stuck in my own life.  That is just pathetic.  And I think I've decided not to be pathetic.

I think Sherlock is proud of me for that.

Why you usin' them big words?

Why is it a sin to combine entertainment and education?

My reaction as well.

I was forced to take this really miserable class last year where, for a large portion of the class, we talked about the horrible dangers of television and how dare we show television to our children and Sesame Street is evil because it makes children think their teacher in school will be Big Bird (this is a direct quote from the book) and lots of other just wonderful things like this.

Moriarty is summing up my feelings for me.

I considered burning this book after I was forced to read it. I thought I would never have to deal with such stupidity again.

I was wrong.

I was alerted to attention in a class this morning when a professor spent his entire lecture talking both about this book and the evils of showing television to young children.

I really wanted to just stand up and walk out of class.

I have walked out of a class three times before in my life.  Once because a good friend of mine had died the day before and it was too much listening to him being talked about so casually during class. Once because a professor spoke very derogatory towards a film that is very close to my heart and when I said that I felt the film wasn't about what she was saying, but instead about seeing the potential in everyone and choosing to love instead of hate out of fear, she told me in very rude words that I was wrong and that my opinion didn't matter to her. And once because a professor who refused to call us by our names but instead called us by assigned numbers said we were all going to fail his class and he was glad because we were dumb seeing as how we had asked for a study guide.

Back to this class.

The evils of television make no sense to me.  And because I had heard this opinion and think it's unintelligent, I had no desire to hear it again.  So instead of sitting there and fuming, I just tuned out the professor and wrote out my own opinion. And this is what I said:

Why is a sin to combine entertainment and education?  If we combined them, maybe kids wouldn't be able to think of one without the other.  And that sounds like a good thing to me.

Maybe if we had children watching "The Magic School Bus" and "Reading Rainbow", we wouldn't have to worry about what our children were putting into their minds so much.

Children aren't as dumb as we make them out to be.  They know what's up and how things work.  Maybe they'll be disappointed Mrs. Frizzo isn't their school teacher, but at least they'll be more intelligent than the kids watching "Family Guy" and "America's Funniest Home Videos".

More to the point, why are we blaming children for their ignorance?  Let's blame the idiotic parents instead who should use protection or get their tubes tied if they don't know how to raise a child appropriately.

Behind every fat child is an obese parent. And beauty is ugly when it's dumb.

If we're going to be dumb enough to blame the media for all of our children's problems, let's just blindfold and close the ears of all children and never let them leave the house.  Or better yet, let's just not have kids anymore.  There are enough dumb people on the planet - if we're going to just keep producing stupid people, let's just stop breeding.

The most unintelligent thing we could think is that intelligence is something we just deserve.  It's something we earn and something we strive to achieve.  Intelligence is not something you get when you're born, but hopefully it's something you have when you die.

While she might laugh and deny it, my mother had an unspoken rule that we only watched television shows growing up that were educational.

I might be strange and a little socially awkward, but I like to think I have a descent amount of intelligence now.

"Do you really not know the earth goes aroud the sun?"

Fact: I've been in love with Sherlock Holmes since I was 14.

Truth: BBC does everything better, including interpret A. C. Doyle's Sherlock. 

Mystery:  Why Benedict Cumberbatch and I aren't best friends.

I'm so proud of BBC for putting little things in their movies that are snippets of Doyle's work that only nerdy Sherlockians like myself would catch, such as Sherlock not knowing that the earth goes around the sun. 
His reasons for not knowing this is that it is useless.  And at first I agreed with John that Sherlock should know this.  After all, it's an important fact.  Right? 

But he's right.  How is this important?  If we went around the moon, would we notice a difference?  Well maybe it is important to know this, but it seems more important to know other things. 
Such as - I'd rather Sherlock know how to show mercy and love than to know about the solar system.  You can't really change and make a person's life better by telling them we go around the sun, but you can if you love them.

I think that's why I love Doyle's Sherlock.  He learns to love as the stories continue.  While BBC doesn't show this, at least in the first three episodes, Doyle shows it well.  Even Sherlock, in his age and wisdom, realizes that going through life merciless and loveless is meaningless.

Maybe that's why I love him so much.  He teaches me, in some odd sort of way, the importance of love.

"Revenge is for suckers."

So many things to love in the new year.

Benedict Cumberbatch playing Sherlock Holmes.  Or just Sherlock Holmes.  Or just Benedict, for that matter.

Finding fantastic movies at FYE for so cheap because they are "intelligent" and "old" and nobody likes those things.

 
Having a friend to defeat the big monsters for you when you play video games because you like the "boring" parts of the game and just want to knit and watch your friend beast it for you during the hard parts.

Thinking that you must just have an odd taste in music until your friend plugs in his iPod and says these magic words: "Do you like Big Band?"

Having a family that can't get through a conversation without a What's That From moment.

Having a job that makes you want to strangle staff writers, pull your own hair out and shoot yourself in the foot every other week, but realizing that without said job, you would have never met the best friends you'll ever have.  And for some odd reason, these friends think you're cool.

Bonding with your housemate through random television shows that you pretend is real life and posting five hundred pictures of attractive men on their Facebook every single day.

People surviving cancer.

Flying by yourself and becoming an adult.

Wanting to keep smiling.

Did I mention Sherlock Holmes?

No?  I haven't mentioned him yet? 

Strange.  Well, I'll just slip in a little mention of him now.

There.  That's better.