I am...

a girl who loves to change the oil on her car. a girl who loves ingrid michaelson because she practically reads my thoughts and then puts them to song. a girl who thinks too much, but isn't thoughtful enough. a girl who loves God. a girl who fails that love and every other love in her life miserably. who wants to be loved despite all her failures. a girl who doesn't like pudding. a girl who loves to cook, but only for others. who can cover up being nervous or scared or unhappy with one flash of a smile. who wants to be heard. too much. who likes naps. who loves romantic things but has a hard time with the "hearts and chocolates" kind of romance. who loves new clothes. who loves to harmonize to her iPod. who tells terrible stories, but relates everything to stories anyways. a girl with too big of an imagination and it gets me in trouble daily because it gets my hopes up without trying, and then those hopes get dashed - and it's nobody's fault but my own imagination's. who is totally ok that she's completely and utterly different than her sister, and is so glad that she finally doesn't expect herself to be a cookie cutter repeat of her sister. she's amazing. but i'm not her. and that's ok. who knows what premonitory, unction, and lagniappe mean. who will fail you and God daily. daily. daily. but saved despite of herself.