Through My Eyes: A Journal

By Liz Root

Contact Liz by emailing her at liz@vagrantcafe.com

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11/30/2001
7 a.m. - i departed from nebraska.
8 p.m. - i arrived safely, although terribly frustrated with the weather, in nashville, tennessee.
8 a.m. tomorrow morning - i leave nashville
3 p.m. (hopefully) - i arrive in charlotte, north carolina.

today's drive went rather quickly and painlessly, except for the rain. but i was much calmer in the rain than i usually am, and i had a good supply of mix tapes to keep me company. and for some reason, the song from one of the tapes that has been stuck in my head all day is elliot smith's "wouldn't mama be proud" song. maybe it's prophetic. *shrugs*


- liz r. - 11/30/2001

11/28/2001
i talked with farrah tonight, and it was so good to hear her voice, and to know that soon enough, i'll be at her apartment. the cool part is that i'll already know how to get there and won't be learning my way around the city for the first time like last year.

so, i got home on june 1st, and i'm leaving tomorrow, november 29th. pretty much six full months of being home. i don't even know what to think or feel about it all. it's been such a roller coaster six months in so many ways. words for all these clips of thought going through my head come and go, and all i'm left with, is just this general sense of closure.

this time around, my move isn't surrounded with all the glamour of a new city and new people. this time around, things are more calm. my time is finished here, and now i'm going to begin my time there once again. i will meet up with old faces, and i will meet new ones.

i am hopeful and expectant. yet, that song by waterdeep that they quote Psalm 131 comes to mind, "for i have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child is my soul within me." my soul is calm and quiet and at rest. striving has been thrown out the window, and i am learning to live in the moment. i've become so focused on living in the future, and i'm not even sure when it began to happen, but i began to not place all my hope in the future anymore. my hope is in now. all there is, is this moment.


- liz r. - 11/28/2001


sometimes i wish i could tell people how great they are without it sounding like i'm hitting on them.

i found my journal from when i was 15 years old. how embarassing. i can't believe myself sometimes, and yet in some of the things i wrote, they were just underdeveloped thoughts of things i still think about to this day.

thursday is zooming in upon me and i'm beginning to get excited again.

sorry these current entries are so short. but closing this portion of life, and beginning the next leave me terribly transitory, and in the meantime, i don't have much to say about anything. trust me, after Friday, i won't be able to be quieted.


- liz r. - 11/28/2001

11/26/2001
i think whoever invented peanut butter chocolate ice cream should be given some kind of award.

currently dying my hair black. well, i just dyed it and now it's setting in. then after i rinse it and dry it, i will promptly put fire engine red highlights in it. i hope it turns out well. a nice change for right before i move. see, last year i basically had reddish hair w/black streaks, so i thought i'd do the opposite.

i feel kind of bad because i haven't been having Important Thoughts lately, but i can't exactly force them. i just don't feel like thinking anymore. at least not until friday night.


- liz r. - 11/26/2001


four days.

how will i react? how will people react to me? will people be happy to see me? will i get to see the people i'm hoping to see? where will i work? who will i meet? will things be awkward? many questions.

there aren't a whole lot of words right now. these last days are stretching the last of the patience i have. not with people necessarily. just with Things.


- liz r. - 11/26/2001