Cupcakes & Chicken

Mary had a little lamb, now she doesn't. Eid Mubarak.

HAHAHAHA. D'you geddit? Muslims out there? Do you? Heh heh heh. Is that evil of me? Well, I didn't invent it, I saw it on this tumblr, and it made me smile rather evilly. Haha.

Anywho, Eid was wonderful this time round. Yes, I had to wear a shalwar kameez. But after last time's episode, I really couldn't care less. Besides, this one was fairly toned down - blue and brown, minimum sparkles, and I wore it to my cousin's wedding in Lanka. Memories :')

Well, yes, it had been a nostalgic day, but there were many distractions. Firstly, we didn't go to the usual community breakfast. At first this upset my mother, because she felt like we were 'hiding' in light of our financial crisis (she's a feisty woman, my mother), but then, as we cleaned up and prepared for lunch, we had this bonding time. My sister and her were speaking about this guy she had the hots for - she calls him 'The Sheikh'. He's not really a sheikh, but she likes to call him that as he's very religious. Anyway, they went on, talking about marriage, making these jokes, and yeah, they brought me into it, with my sister listing all the guys she had decided were potentials for me (Whyy??). I told my mother I intended to be a spinster and stay with her forever, and she looked horrified. Rather than worrying about a life of singledom, she said she would never let any of us stay home - she wanted us kicked out ASAP, so she could be freeeeeeeee.

Haha.

Anyway, this time round, for lunch, a few families - and I don't mean the entire annoying, wannabe Curry community, just a few families - booked this hall out. It was a backup for the weather, which did, indeed, go through five seasons. But anyway, the food was yum, the sweets were delish, and here are some cakes my sister was ordered to make this time:

All credit to my sister, who's really developing some awesome in this industry (: I only did the lettering and stars. Oh, I didn't show you the cake she made for my friend's birthday, did I?? Here: 

It was Mexican themed, even though it looks a little Christmassy - they're Mexican colours. Gorgeous, no?

Anyway, that was unrelated. Back to Eid. So we booked this hall, but it wasn't just about food this time. The aunties actually took the iniative organise games for the kiddies. I signed up to be a face painter, and I'm thinking of a new career path... and then the actual games, they were pretty straightforward party games: musical chairs, pin the horn on the unicorn, pass the parcel, and a pinata.

I love how the kiddies were in it for fun, but the mothers were so competitive. It was hilarious to see them getting so worked up, making all these loud, intense, OOOOHs and AHHHHs, depending on where the kid stuck the horn x) 

The mothers had a raffle draw too, which I considered unfair. I mean, little kids: games, ladies: raffle draw, and us teenage girls? Nada. So they allowed us to smash the pinata - we used a broom, and then we had a round of musical chairs. Was fun. Then, when everyone was packing up, we were just so pumped from the bashing of the pinata, that we went around popping the balloons.

Twas awesome (:

And of course, today was Eid in Sri Lanka, and my cousin was Skyping with them, and we werei n his room, and it was so difficult to know that the whole family would be gathering over there, altogether, and here we were, so alone... :/

But our family friend invited us over for dinner. My mother sent me early, to help prep for dinner, and I made salad... I cut a full onion for the first time. I didn't cry. I'm a real man.

All the kids were cutesy, of course. There was an embarrassing moment when a boy from taekwondo - who am I calling boy? He's older than me, by a year, and one of the black belts. I've always called him the Pakistani guy, so yeah, that's what I'll call him now. Anyway, this family friend - friends my little sister made in school - are Pakistani, and the Pakistani guy is related to them, I suppose, and so they showed up, and my mother was mortifyingly trying to find some connection between him and I as she spoke to his mother. I've barely spoken to him, and well, he wasn't even in the room, obviously it was segregated, but the eyebrows my sister was raising, and her crude suggestions... yeah, mortifying.

But all was well. Aal iz well.

Now, have you ever thought about people eating chicken? It's not usually a pretty picture. But my cousin, my beautiful sleepy eyed teddy bear cousin, does it so cutely.... like ZOMG. I couldn't stop taking photos, I never realised that chicken could be eaten so adorably. In the words of the modern Lydia Bennett: ENJOY THE ADORBS!!

 SQUEEEEEEEEE. Look at those eyes!

ATM:

Writing: NaNoWriMo.

Reading: Silas Marner. George Eliot. Wow, it hit it's turning point, and now it's moving fairly fast towards the end. I like it.

Listening to: Starlight. Taylor Swift.  ♥ Red.

Feeling: Happy. 

Don't you see the starlight, starlight? 

Don't you dream impossible things?   

Peace in,

Laila

I'm on a rollercoaster that only goes up, my friend.

I had wanted to do this post yesterday, but my laptop was having a bad day, and we got back late anyway...

But, ladies and gentlemen, yesterday was the speech night for the Youth of the Year thing!

I was dying from the moment we got in the van. My stomach was disintergrating. I felt hot all over (when it comes to performances, I get flushed.... J Turtle is the opposite - she freezes up o.o What about you guys?) and my throat was all choked up. I didn't think it showed on the outside, because I was under the impression my face was impassive. But clearly it wasn't, as everyone - from the judges, strolling past to get seated, to the other contestants - kept telling me to breathe, it'll be okay.

So we arrived there, and it was a tad awkward, just my mother and I sitting in this place with all these strangers.... there was alcohol... there were those gambling booths... I was terrified. Anyhow, I saw.. hm, let's call her Lina, another girl who was nominated from my school. We both figured out last week we were both nominated, but it was only tonight itself that we learnt there was in fact another girl nominated from my school. That's three Muslim girls from our school - and, just because I'm feeling the girl power - the other two nominees were girls too. Awesome, right?

So the guy who organises this got us together, and gave us a mini tour on how things were going to work tonight. He took us to this side waiting room, and was about to draw out names from a basket as to the speaking order, but we all volunteered out places. Lina went first, the other girl from my school... let's called her Birdy, she went second. I went third, and the other girls took the last places. I liked being third, because it's not first so it has everyone attention, but it's not last to be the most memorable.

We went back to the dining room, and the girls from my school sat at a massive table with my mother and I. The speeches commenced. Lina went up first, and she talked about why homework should be restricted. She was amazing - I found her humourous and reasonable too, and she speaks clearly. Applause. Then Birdy went up. She talked about happiness! I wanted to talk about something abstract, but someone had told me it had to be a set topic. Anyhow, her speech was cute and inspiring. Applause. 

Then I.

I was nervous, I was, and Amani - Lina's cousin, and also one of my primary school friends - kept reminding me to relax, and my mother rubbed my back, and I walked to the stage. In a weird way, I kind of felt calm. I got up there, I started saying my speech, and I looked at the audience - 'cause I knew the speech mostly, applying the same method I did for my English oral - but I had this way of not really focusing on the audience, so I was looking at them but not really.... anyway, my only moment of panic was when the four minute bell didn't ring. It's supposed to be a warning, so you know you have to wrap up your speech, and then at five minutes the guy would ring another bell and the judges would stop listening. The four minute bell is also a minimum time thing, though, and it was taking forever to the point I was scared I wasn't going to make this basic time limit.

But it rang, I finished my speech at about 4minutes and 15 seconds, and I scampered off the stage and to the safety of my seat, where my lovely companions showered me with praise.

The next girl spoke about genetic engineering, and I personally found it fascinating - I'm sure many did - but I guess the issue was many also had no idea what she was talking but. Some of the terms are not...everyday sort of language, if that makes sense. In fact, I'm not sure I understood everything either. But anyway, applause, and the next girl came up. She spoke about her dream of having an... equal world. The words I distinctly remember are: '...something something, not first world, or second world, or third world - but one world.' Her speech was beautiful too, but I think while it was written with emotion, it was not delivered with the passion it deserved. She wasn't dreadful, just not - only in my opinion - as enthusiastic as she could have been :/

ANYHOW. When that was over, we were taken to that back room, where we bonded and made friends... while we waited to go back in, one by one, to answer our 'impromptu questions'. It felt like an execution walk, and this is where my panic welled up again. Lina went first. Then Birdy. Then me.

The first question was:

'You are made mayor of [insermysuburbnamehere] with unlimited power. In your first two weeks, what do you hope to do?'

I thought. I thought some more. I was well aware of the audience, staring, and I think with each second they got more tense. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, so I said:

"To be honest, I have no idea."

It was not my intention to make them laugh, but somehow it did. Maybe it was the long wait. Maybe it was a tone. But either way, it kind of made me comfortable, so I went on to say that I simply couldn't fathom having 'unlimited power', I've never had it before, it was beyond my understanding.

They seemed to like it. The next question was:

"This room, as you can see, is full of people much older than you. What is it you think older folks get wrong about your generation?"

I thought about this, and my answer, I guess, was pretty predictable.

"I guess they think we're all addicted to social media, that we're completely dependant on technology, and we have lost our imaginations completely."

They laughed. A lot.  I escaped from the stage and watched the other two get slaughtered. Who am I kidding? One spoke about how she would organise a mini-youth group to help people her age achieve their dreams, and she'd focus on so much charity, and the other girl had something along the similar lines. They had similar answers to my 'older folks' question.

I'm so proud of the girls from my school though.

Lina apparently said something along the lines of how older people always tend to think what other older people tell them, and she went on to say that perhaps they should get to know us and figure out for themselves what we're really like. Birdy, apparently under pressure, announced that she loved older people. That's all ^^ But I'm glad they were different, you know?

Thennnn..... we waited forever for the judges to come up with their decision. We moaned about the the lack of food - we were all under the impression that dinner would be provided, not bought - and we glared at every waiter strolling past with ice-cream for the elite club members. We made stupid jokes, laughed like crazy - had all these snoot people grease us off - and then the guy who organised the thing got up on stage. He introduced the judges. We had to line up on the side. They talked a bit, and it turns out there's two awards. One for the Youth of the Year - who commences to the next round - and one for public speaking alone. Because 80% of what makes the YOTY is determined by the interview, and we all know how I screwed that up. I did not win YOTY, but

I

WON

FOR 

PUBLIC SPEAKING.

You cannot imagine how crazy with joy I was.

My mother walked in, a few hours ago, all hush hush, and she handed me a $50 note as her own personal gift. What I love about this award is that I do not feel like a failure, that I've pleased my parents, but I also don't have to go to the next round.

^^

Before that, I came back from Star's house, having just made cupcakes for a friend, and when I checked my email, I was invited by a certain organisation that I can't mention for the protection of my identity (can't help it, I'm paranoid - I've realised it's not because I'm afraid of you hunting me down, I'm afraid of people I know in real life finding me here :P ) to be their resident student blogger for a month!

I'M JUST SO HAPPY.

And tired. 

I just wanted to say thank you, again, for your words of encouragement and comfort ♥ 

Good night, day, morning, evening :)

ATM: 
Writing: NaNoWriMo.
Reading: Silas Marner. George Eliot. I think I'm getting to the point, though I've had to neglect it lately.
Listening to: Nada. It's getting late...
Feeling: Happy. I feel like God has answered my prayers. I'm so uplifted I can't even stress about exams (:

“Believe there is a great power silently working all things for good, behave yourself and never mind the rest.”
(Beatrix Potter)

Peace in,
Laila

Catch My Breath

I'm having a bad bad day, it's about time that I get my way...

Steamrolling whatever I see,

HUH, despicable me!

-_-'

Remember when I said I was nominated for the Youth of the Year award? Well, in my head it was a far away thing, some months away. I had the interview today.

I'm so ANGRY.

Oh - uh, before you think I was caught by surprise, I was notified a week earlier, so yeah ^^

But I'm so MAD.

At MYSELF.

First and foremost, and I said this to the judges, so hopefully they'll take this into consideration, but I do not like being put on the spot. At all. I'm just awful at it. Sometimes I have random streaks of awesome, but they're very very very... very..... veryveryveryveryvery rare.

Normally, I'm simply one of those people that are continuously met with facepalmwhydidn'tIsaythat? moments. Or, alternatively, facepalmwhyDIDIsaythat? moments.

For example, when we were studying The Kite Runner, and my teacher had been rattling on about something or another, we came to realise that some character in the novel didn't have a last name. For the sake of the discussion, my teacher asked us to come up with one - some Afghan/Pakistani last name. I started racking my brains, thinking of the Afghan/Pakistani people I knew, and the first one that came to mind I blurted out.

I said Khan. LHASLJFHADSF. That's the name of the protagonist! Behold, my stupidity in situations of spontaneity.

So anyhow, on that side-note, interviews are obviously based on being put on the spot. I can safely say that I didn't say anything particularly humiliating, it was not dreadful, but.... I was just so awkward and as soon as I stepped out all these things came to mind for me to say and I really wanted to just run back in there and dive onto my knees, my nose even, and beg for a second chance. 

I mean, their questions were very open-ended, because they wanted us to be able to respond 'in a way that is comfortable for you', but... I couldn't. When people say 'tell us about yourself', I ... don't know what to say. When they asked 'talk about a global issue', my mind just went blank, but I like global issues! I think about them a lot! Whyy? WHYYYY?

It's not fair. This was about three hours ago, and since then all I can think of is these things I could have said, explained better, talked about. Interesting, quirky, perhaps even funny stuff. And I have to spend the rest of my life knowing that I could have really impressed them, and I didn't.

Now there's only the speech left, and all I can see are flaws. Flaw flaws flaws, riddled throughout my speech. And I keep worrying that's it not interesting or funny, it's overdone, it's cheesy, it's patronizing, it's biased, they'll hate it, blah blah blah, and I really DON'T want to see these, I DON'T want to think like this, but I can't help it.

Not to mention my parents - I don't want to let them down. They're so excited. My dad keeps saying 'when you win, yadda yadda yadda', and I'm trying to get it to them that it's only a possibility - a slight, miniscule possibility - but I just know they're going to be disappointed.

I need some optimism. Oh, I'll tell you about Wednesday!

Wednesday I did my English issues oral. She gave us a list of topics, mind you, that had to be researched minimally, and argued more logically. I picked 'Advertisements should be banned', although I amended it slightly so they should only be restricted. Anyhow, I had a speech written out - I picked this topic on her request because the one I wanted I had too much to say on, so my speech for this was perfectly in time. 

But my teacher, being the revolutionary that she is, made a new rule. She said if you use cue cards, she'll take a mark off. It's only one mark, but she wanted us to try be a bit more focused on delivery, rather than reading, you know?

Well, I couldn't go up there without my cue cards, they're just comfortable to me. But - and here's a moment of my awesome spontaneity - I decided that I was not going to use them. I figured it would be a compromise; I'd try without them, but if I went mind-blank, well, I'd have the security of my beautiful cards.

Ladies and gentlemen, I did the whole thing without the cards. I'm not talking about memorised speech. I'm talking about pure improvisation and communication. I knew my three points - I guess minimal research and maximum logic really helps on that, 'cause you don't have to keep facts and figures and references in your head - and then I just stood there and delivered and it was the best experience ever. I made proper eye-contact, and I finished perfectly in time - 4 minutes and 55 seconds (the limit is 5min.)

My grade was 19/20! x)

The one mark I lost was for the rebuttal. You know how I said she had a list of topics? Well, this one guy wasn't there that day, and he had already made his own oral when he came back, so she didn't want to make him redo it. Being the lucky girl I am, I was picked to rebut him (everyone had to rebut somebody, I mean, they don't reply, you just provide a counter-argument.). You know what his topic was? Fitness is good for you.

How's one supposed to argue against that? I managed it though, and 4/5 for that section is good enough for me.

Huh, maybe I'm overreacting. It's weird, 'cause I know, in my heart of hearts, that I'm not going to win. But being human, I couldn't help getting caught up in it, and in my head it was all going to work out like a dream. Such is life.

I just spoke to Star.... I feel better ^^ It's not that she told me that there's hope yet! or you're underestimating yourself , though those things are still nice and appreciated.... all she did was just relate to me, and we had a nice collaborated rant about our failings at these on-the-spot-moments.
I love my friends ♥

And I love you guys too! I mean it. I appreciate each and every one of your comments, every single letter you write. 

I was talking to a family friend once, and this new girl that came to my Islamic studies class, and you know, I was building friendships. Anyhow, while we were in the mode of figuring out common attributes, it came out that they're both tumblr people. Feeling left out, I mentioned I had a blog. My family friend was all snicker-y (it's just how we roll, I love her x) ) and she was like, 'do you have any followers?' At the time, I had maybe three? Which is meagre compared to the jizbillions of tumblr followers you can have. But I was thinking about it, and I realised that you can have those jizbillions of followers, who aimlessly reblog whatever you put up, who are just more numbers on your 'followers' list, or you could have a few followers, even just one, who faithfully reads your every post, whose comments extend to more than just a 'lol', who offers you advice and is even ready to tell you where you're wrong in a reasonable manner. 

The latter would be more than just a number on a followers list - it would be a friend. I'm happy to have the less-than-jizbillion followers that I do. You guys are AWESOME. Keep that in mind for me, won't you? (:

Linchy picture moment! Rumi quote, read from bottom up:

She said she didn't upload it on her deviantART because she doesn't like it. But I do, the colour scheme (*wink wink*) is my favourite. It's pretty, non?

And... here's a pic Star just sent me O_O

ATM:
Writing: NaNoWriMo. I'm saying that 'cause it's on my mind still... 
Reading: Silas Marner. George Eliot. Tis... interesting, so far. I haven't reached A Point, yet.
Listening to: Catch My Breath. Kelly Clarkson. NU SONG, BRO! xD
Feeling: Relieved. Vented out and all that...

(GAH. It's so hard to pick a favourite verse!!)

Catching my breath, letting it go
Turning my cheek for the sake of this show
Now that you know, this is my life
I won't be told what's supposed to be right

Catch my breath
No one can hold me back
I ain't got time for that
Catch my breath
Won't let them get me down
It's all so simple now

Peace in,
Laila

Independence Day!

My oh my, how September - and these holidays, went by so fast.

I shall begin by firstly saying that I think I stole that title - in the context I am about to use - from someone else. I think it was Lisi Harrison, but I'm not sure. Just saying.

Anyhow, 'What context?' you ask. And I shalt answer you now. Ish.

Last .. hm.. Thursday, I went to Chaddy - 'the fashion capital' of our state, erm, a shopping centre - to catch up with my lovely Linchy. I have to say that it wasn't enough time at all, and there's so much I didn't get to say, but huh, such is life. That's a completely unrelated side-note, though, because my point right now is I took a bus home all by myself. 

Yes, Arvie, you're not the only one venturing out into the big bad world all by yourself :')

Let me start by saying I'm not a fan of public transport. Not that I'm snooty and think I'm above it - I truly enjoy getting on trains, for example, sitting against a window for the long journey to the city, enjoying that peaceful rocking motion... yeah. The only thing is, I don't like going by myself.

Okay, I'm not the baby of my house - third youngest, second oldest, whatever you prefer, (though with my cousin in the picture, I'm third oldest o.O), but I'm still a baby of my house. I've always had a chauffeur, and... well... I'm still a dependant, if that makes sense. No personal income, not legally an adult, still in school. That trip to see Linchy? My cousin gave me $50, my sister gave me her wallet. People don't spoil me, so to speak, (I had to give whatever I didn't spend back, okay?!), but I still have a handle-with-care label on me. Plus, erm, I don't want to admit this, but I can for anonymity's sake, I do cry easily. Not for fiction, may I impress on you, but it's fairly easy for people in real life to make me cry. So yeah. Handle with care.

And so - gah, see how I got on another completely unrelated side-note? I should change the name of my blog -_-' - I've never been alone on public transport. The first time I bought my own ticket (I was with someone, btw), I forgot to take the actual ticket. The whole front row of boys from my school were like: 'YOU FORGOT THE TICKET!', and my knees were too busy shaking to be humiliated.

But Thursday, the 27th of September, 2012, I, Laila N Mysis [unjumbled], took a bus home from Chadstone Shopping Centre all by myself. No assistance. It was a half-n-hour ride. I think I deserve a cookie. Well, to award myself for the journey I was embarking anyway, I bought a cookies-and-cream-chiller thing from Gloria Jeans, so I guess that's enough.

Furthermore, I also now have a mobile phone number. I was going to say mobile phone, but I've always had a phone... there are phones lying around our house all the time, especially 'cause my dad used to indulge in schmancy-fancy new phones, handing his old ones down to my mother, who would just... leave them around, because it takes time for her to get used to them, and I need them as alarm clocks. So I didn't need the phone, just the SIM. So I've got a SIM now. Cool, huh? Not that I'm particularly excited about that - I do not like having 24/7 contact with the outside world. To be honest, the way I feel about school friends, even my closest, is basically: I see you guys for 6.5 hours, 5 days a week for the majority of the year. Surely I can have some time without, at least afterschool and weekends?

(Yes, partially a hermit. Whatever.)

But with my new found ability to take a bus by myself, and my personal phone number, I'm on my way to being an independant woman. I even applied for a summer job, with Jess, at a stationery job... no response yet, but there's time.

Anyhow, nothing much has happened, even though these holidays were like WHIZZBANGPOP IT'S OVER! 

OH! I have news.

My legal teacher, Ms D, nominated me for the Youth of the Year award - an Australia wide thing o.o Don't get excited, it's a nomination and you have to get past many stages. I will not get past many stages, becase when I looked at the application sheet... well, let's just say it didn't change much from when I received it to when I handed it in. Many, many, many blank spaces. I just haven't contributed officially to the community, culturally or as a 'citizen' (seriously, I have no idea what that means), and I haven't been a 'leader' for the last two years. For the normal leadership category, I put down 'older sister, cousin, aunt'. Don't think that's what they were looking for. 

Another reason why I won't get through is because last year's nomination from our school - an awesome girl, whom I have very strong respect for - said that at a certain stage, it gets biased. She's a sweetheart, so I'm sure she wouldn't lie. 

Finally, I won't get through because it involves public speaking. I stink at it, as I have mentioned before, but I decided to go ahead with this because Ali told me that sometimes in order to master the fine arts of communication, you just have to dive into it. So I'm diving in, the deep end, and though I may not exceed expectations or anything, I'm hoping it will help me build up some skills for the Future.

Besides, to me, the greatest thing is that I was nominated. Somebody thought I was worthy. And that's a compliment by itself, right?

That being said, I want to backtrack to the blank spaces of my application sheet. To be honest, it gave me a heart attack - the fact that I didn't have anything to write down. All I could think of was - do I really do so little in this world?

Arvie had a post recently, that was inspired by Taylor Swift's bittersweet song 'Ronan', dedicated to a boy of that name who died of cancer at the age of four. Arvie - being the lovely soul that she is - was really touched. Not just like your average person who'd be like 'awww, that's so sad', but to the point of tears. She took the initiative to look at the boy's mother's blog, to really get a feel. And she said she felt confused, because this little boy had to leave this world so soon, while she had a whole sixteen years (and insha'allah, many more to come) to her name. 

I basically told her, in a very lengthy comment that could have been an essay, that it was a tragedy, and it wasn't something you should feel embarrassed to be so empathetic about, but the lesson you take from it is that he's a reminder from God that life can end at any given second, so if you're blessed with more time, don't feel cheated - get a purpose. Make the most of it, appreciate it, and do something about it.

A little while after, I was thinking of my own predicament, and I thought - well, maybe this isn't a mindblowing, tearjerking, in-your-face wake-up call like that of Ronan, but it had the same message that I needed. Do something. 

I spend a lot of time complaining, not just on here, but everywhere, complaining of big issues and all that jazz. Awareness is important, yes, but once you've reached that stage, you don't just sit there. You direct the actual play. You grab the baton and conduct the orchetra. You take action.

I'm not going to do it for a title. I don't need a medal. But I would like to have that contentment in myself that I do do something for the community, that I contribute to make the world a better place, even if it's on a miniscule, anonymous scale.

So yeah, part of my Independence Day is that I can take a bus by myself. Part of it is that I have my own personal phone number. But the bigger part is I've got a new resolution, and hopefully it's not just words, hopefully I can put some action into it.

(My cousin got married, btw. She's going to Dubai in a week. I've accepted her fate. Sigh.)

ATM:
Reading: The Shiny Guys. Doug MacLeod. So far... it's not as great as his other books, but it's not dreadful either.
Writing: NaNoWriMo. No, I'm not writing it YET, but I've actually got the vague foundations of a story in my head, so I'm going to keep working on it.
Listening to: My Heart Is... Tiffany Alvord. Nothing spectacular, or deep and meaningful. It's cute, though, and I like her voice.
Feeling: Inspired! The difference between motivation and inspiration is that motivation is by external powers, and inspiration comes from within. Did you know that? I didn't. 

Superdy long quote ahead...

"I have always, essentially, been waiting. Waiting to become something else, waiting to be that person I always thought I was on the verge of becoming, waiting for that life I thought I would have. In my head, I was always one step away. In high school, I was biding my time until I could become the college version of myself, the one my mind could see so clearly. In college, the post-college “adult” person was always looming in front of me, smarter, stronger, more organized. Then the married person, then the person I’d become when we have kids. For twenty years, literally, I have waited to become the thin version of myself, because that’s when life will really begin.
And through all that waiting, here I am. My life is passing, day by day, and I am waiting for it to start. I am waiting for that time, that person, that event when my life will finally begin.
I love movies about “The Big Moment” – the game or the performance or the wedding day or the record deal, the stories that split time with that key event, and everything is reframed, before it and after it, because it has changed everything. I have always wanted this movie-worthy event, something that will change everything and grab me out of this waiting game into the whirlwind in front of me. I cry and cry at these movies, because I am still waiting for my own big moment. I had visions of life as an adventure, a thing to be celebrated and experienced, but all I was doing was going to work and coming home, and that wasn’t what it looked like in the movies.
John Lennon once said, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” For me, life is what was happening while I was busy waiting for my big moment. I was ready for it and believed that the rest of my life would fade into the background, and that my big moment would carry me through life like a lifeboat.
The Big Moment, unfortunately, is an urban myth. Some people have them, in a sense, when they win the Heisman or become the next American Idol. But even that football player or that singer is living a life made up of more than that one moment. Life is a collection of a million, billion moments, tiny little moments and choices, like a handful of luminous, glowing pearl. It takes so much time, and so much work, and those beads and moments are so small, and so much less fabulous and dramatic than the movies.
But this is what I’m finding, in glimpses and flashes: this is it. This is it, in the best possible way. That thing I’m waiting for, that adventure, that move-score-worthy experience unfolding gracefully. This is it. Normal, daily life ticking by on our streets and sidewalks, in our houses and apartments, in our beds and at our dinner tables, in our dreams and prayers and fights and secrets – this pedestrian life is the most precious thing any of use will ever experience. 
- Shauna Niequist

Peace in, 

Laila