Can't Get You Out of my Head

I've been absolutely loving my added responsibility at work:  ordering YA, Middle Grade, and Easy books.  Okay, so mostly I've loved ordering the YA books, because THEY FEED MY SOUL.  And as part of my research into what I should buy, I get to check out book blogs, which are pretty much the coolest (and nerdiest) things in the interwebs.  Naturally, the way I know if I'll like a book blog is to scope out their opinion on the Hunger Games series.

Team Gale?  Oh my word they must be idiots.  Didn't like the finale?  IDIOTS.  (My insults are not very well-formed.)  So then today I came across someone with a Team Peeta banner in the margin of their site, and on their list of books that had personally impacted them, this was written:

"I don't know what it was about this book {Mockingjay}, but it really and truly blew me away. It was, in my mind, the perfect ending to the Hunger Games trilogy, but more than that it was just really, really amazing. It broke my brain. It gave me a reading hangover. It showed me how powerful a book can be. I don't know how to explain it except to say that it had been years since I had read something that - through sheer force of story - made me feel so much."

YES EXACTLY.  Must re-read the entire series whenever my stack of to-read books lessens even slightly.

Stories

We made purses out of duct tape at the library today, and Wendy and Abby (by which I mean David, who was her fill-in) came!  I love to show off my place of business to people I love.

David and I worked at a table together, and it was lovely to discuss epic light saber duels and how apparently everyone has always called me a tall turtle, but I realized something.  I suck at telling stories.  David went off on how his great-uncle killed a snake, and it was suspenseful and hilarious.  So I thought of my own holiday recollection, and no kidding, it went like this.

"Oh!  So at Christmas, my grandpa said something, but it wasn't exactly true, so he said, 'And that's almost the truth!'  It was so funny!  So we kept saying it the rest of the day, and he didn't even know that he had started it.  HAHAHAHAHA."

David didn't even respond (though later I called him on lying and he smirked, "That's almost the truth"). 

I am not pleased with my suckage.  This is exactly why I write and do not speak.  Unless, of course, I am similarly deluded as to my skill in writing.  Which would be tragic, because then I would have no means of communication left to me!

Also I write because in person I look like this:

Me:  Hey Wendy, can I use some of your duct tape?  I ran--
Wendy:  Oh my gosh!  Tricia, what's wrong with your eye!?
Me:  ...Thank you for drawing attention to my deformity.

Five days now.  It was good this morning until I put in contacts, and now it hurts even with them out.  Probably I will have to see a doctor or something.  I like my eyeball!  I would prefer to keep it!  However, wearing an eyepatch for a while would only be awesome.

Levels of Friendship

Random:  one of my eyes is crazy red.  It creeps me out, and it's been like that for three days now.  Whenever I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I think of Natalie Portman in the preview for Black Swan, and I want to die a little.  It was fun for a day, now I am tired of it.

So.  I get lonely in Peoria, which has frustrated me before, because why?  I have way more friends here than Jackson.  All the families at Woodland that are dear and close, and I can be stupid and myself with them.  But it just isn't enough, I guess, and I finally figured out why.

I miss having best friends.  Stephanie, Jennie, Erin.  I could tell them anything--my struggles, my anger, my pride.  I could be sad around them, and mopey, and I could ignore them, and they would still like me the next day.

I don't have friends in Peoria that I can be depressed with.  I don't see anyone often enough to let myself express my depression (whenever it hits) because I don't want to waste any time.  So I plaster on a smile, and really, it ends up being great, but as soon as I leave all those bad feelings come back.

Probably I could have close friends again.  Lindsay and I have had some nice talks, but our work schedules are obnoxious, so we can't hang out often.  (Which is why I selfishly am Team Lindsay Gets A New Job.)  Sometimes I share more of myself with Wendy, but the fact that I am friends with her children will always add a layer of awkwardness to certain conversations.  Emily and I talk a lot, when she's here.  But that's not often.

Anyway, all that to say I get lonely here.  On Christmas Eve I was feeling it hard core, and it was just really an awful night.  But Christmas morning I saw a facebook message from Stephanie that positively made my week.

She wants to come to Mongolia with me!  I wanted someone to come with me, but I wanted it to be a God thing, not a me-coercing-someone thing.  And it's STEPHANIE.  We will have so much fun.  That is two to three weeks when I can hang out with my best friend in a new country serving God.  PERFECT.

And she asked if we could memorize Scripture together, which is lovely because I can't do that with David anymore, because it feels too intimate.  And she is coming to visit in January.  And I am already thinking of all the videos we can make, and all the conversations we can have, and all the places I can take her, and all the people I want her to meet.

I miss my best friend.  I'm so glad she is still my best friend.  We have known each other two years, and we have lived in different states (or countries) longer than we've lived in the same.  Which, to me, means our friendship is pretty awesome, because we are both aware of our (normally) horrible ability to keep in touch long distance.

So this is happy.  I love my Peoria friends.  I wish I had deeper friendships here.  But I'm so glad God brought back/reminded me that just because my best friends don't live here, doesn't mean they can't have a huge part of my life.

Up with the happy.

So It Continues!

I might be going to Mongolia this summer!

So when I got my job at the library, it felt very much like it was handed to me from God, which got me thinking: what is God teaching me through this?  Especially since it was directly contradicting my own plans of never working with kids or teaching them.  And on my way to Memphis for Erin and Tim's wedding, I thought, maybe I should work in an orphanage.

That is very easily found out, so I decided to look for a short term mission trip to an orphanage, so I could experience it and see what happened.  In September, I became friends with Gany, who is from Mongolia, and whose pastor started an orphanage there.

A month ago I emailed her and asked if I could come and work there for awhile, but she didn't write back.  I had given up on the idea, and I was starting to look into InnerChange.  But I felt like God was telling me to wait on that until January, which isn't so far away, so I agreed.

Then yesterday Gany replied (she'd been home on vacation without internet) and said they would love to have me!  I talked to my boss, and she said I could have up to three weeks off!

I'm so excited to be back on the mission track.  This patience thing is really hard, and I tend to get stuck in whatever rut I find myself.  Even though my plan last summer was "short term mission trip in August, long term sometime after," I was starting to think nothing would happen, which is stupid, because look!  My plan (God's plan?) is coming true!

And it's so comforting that I had that doubt, and wanted to move on to another option, but God stopped me.  It's so nice to know He is behind this, in some way.

Though it is kind of scary to plan a trip by myself!  I don't know how to do that, but I imagine I will just buy a plane ticket and show up.  Done.  I love adventure.

Oh my word, it is so encouraging just to have the hope of a real mission trip in my future.  I didn't quite realize how necessary that is to my happiness.  (But at the same time, I'm glad this is only short term, because I'm not sure I'm ready to give up Peoria long term yet....selfishness or God's timing or both, I don't know.)

Remembering

I finished reading through my Senegal blog, and when I got to the part where I drove to Dakar for the last time with Kim and Liz, I was reminded of this November, when we left Fatick to go to Sali.  I was really moody and silent, and Wendy asked what was wrong with me.  I kind of burst out in an obnoxious teenager way, "I hate leaving!"  And no one said anything, because they were all thrilled to move on to the retreat part.

And then at the end, in Dakar, as we left the government official's house and drove through the dark streets to the airport, I was moody again, staring out the window.  Because Wendy is my mentor/friend, she once again asked if I was okay.  Sally jumped in and joked, "She's a zombie!  She needs sleep."

Not so.  I was trying to hide the fact that I was crying.  Because it sucked.  It was such a tease to go back to Senegal for only a week and a half.  I didn't really give that trip its due on here, because it was over so quickly, and then life started up crazy fast here in Peoria.

But I miss Senegal.  Life seems clearer there.  And more adventurous.  I love living overseas, and even though there are a lot of awesome things about living in Peoria, there are a lot of not awesome things too.

I want life to be easy.

Do I really have to go to work again? I'm done with this adult thing.

I feel like I'm on the edge of a spiritual and emotional cliff.  Last night I was really missing old-school Jackson (my Craig 3 sisters), and then this morning I found out that Whitney is getting married this week.  Of course I wasn't invited, and I don't think it's a big wedding, but I doubt I would have been invited anyway. 

So that sucks.  And I haven't really been enjoying my time with God lately.  I just read and pray the bare minimum to let my conscious feel clear.  Though of course that doesn't work, because I think God would rather I not spend time with him than spend fake time with him.

But I read from Revelation today (oh my word I love that book more and more every time I read it), and I felt like God spoke to me through the letter to Ephesus.  Because I'm good at the righteous anger and indignation.  I have a very clear picture of what holiness and church life should look like, and when it's not that way, I get pissed.  But sometimes, often, I let that anger get in the way of loving my spiritual family.  I'm like a fairy--I only feel one emotion at a time.

How to both hate hypocrisy and love Christians, when of course all Christians will be hypocrites at some time, because we are still fallen people struggling toward sanctification?  I don't know.  Something else God needs to change in my heart.  At least now I'm more aware of it and will look for him working.

College at Woodland

When I got back from Senegal, Nick Maclin told me he and the Wineingers wanted to have a college Bible study, and would I lead it?  I immediately said yes, because while I was in college, I mostly hated going to Woodland.  There was no college Sunday School and no college Sunday night activity.  Sure, everyone welcomed me to join groups to which I didn't belong, but it was always awkward and I always dreaded it.

And I don't understand this gaping hole, because no matter the number, college kids are awesome.  They have this desire, and the belief, that they can change the world.  At Woodland, the college group was very much aware of the fact that we were given a lot through the youth group, and we were taught and equipped to take that knowledge and pass it on.  So when our group started planning the Fellowship Weekend, I was so incredibly thrilled to be a part of a group that was learning about God and then putting that knowledge into practice, allowing the youth group to serve Him and have fun together at the same time.

But we caught a lot of flak.  I got all worked up about it this morning, and it really does blow my mind that people are not supporting us, are still pushing us outside certain lines, when we are struggling to survive.  This is the first college group that I can ever remember.  Why are people not throwing themselves at us to help us?  Why are we being knocked down for being too involved or not involved enough?  It drives me nuts, and it genuinely gets me angry.

But.  Oh my word, I love this group of friends.  We decided not to participate in the youth group's Christmas gift exchange, because we didn't want to jump into that drama.  So we finished studying Hosea, and talked about how the undeserving love of God should pour out of us and make an impact on the world.

That led to us deciding to create a different service project every month.  It's going to be a college thing, but with any youth groupers more than welcome to join us.  I don't want people to think we're controlling or whatever, but no way am I going to deny middle and high schoolers the opportunity to serve God and live a Christian life just because some people don't like us intermixing.

And I'm just so glad to be lifted up.  This morning, I was so ready to give up.  I don't know if anyone else (besides two or three people I've talked to) feel the same amount of drama that I do, but man, it sucks.  I feel so much like we're being kicked while we're down, and maybe that is not the case, but it feels like it sometimes.  And my reaction to being kicked is to stay down, or maybe run away.  But not this college group!  I'm so happy that they just jumped into doing something else.

I love Woodland a lot, and when thing get stupid, I become irrationally disappointed.  I want Woodland to be totally awesome, and it hurts me when it's not.  So it was exactly what my heart needed to be encouraged by the awesomeness of the Wineingers, Nick, Emily, the Webers, and Troy.  They are totally awesome, and we've decided that if the face of Christianity will be changed, then our church needs to change, then our college group needs to change, then we as individuals need to change.

I love that.  I'm so thankful that God didn't allow me to sulk for very long.  I'm so thankful that He gave me another group of friends who will inspire and encourage and push me.  God is great.  He will give us opportunities to serve Him if we ask.  I can't wait to see what we learn about Him and His people through college GASS.

UM. THE AWESOMENESS CONTINUES

So after that whole blog thing on Monday, where Ryan read my review and tweeted about it, I emailed her like the fangirl I am.  I have been obsessively checking my work email, fighting this battle of "it probably went to her spam, stop getting your hopes up, YOU ALWAYS GET YOUR HOPES UP" vs "well, she is obviously internet savvy and consistently checks things, so maybe, I mean maybe, oh please oh please?"

AND SHE RESPONDED.  Like, three minutes ago I saw her email, because I cannot keep my emotions to myself.

Let me just copy/paste it here, so that years from now, when I reread my blog, it will be here to cheer me up and renew my fangirl screams.

Hey Tricia,


Thanks for your email! I found your review through my google alerts and like I said, I rarely read reviews but I was so curious by the little excerpt that I had to click through (it was your take on love triangles that piqued my curiosity). I just really loved your review because it felt like you “got” what I was writing — that Mary is selfish and flawed but still strong, the themes, difficult choices, etc. I just can’t explain the thrill I feel when I see a reader connecting to my book like that and it reminded me again how wonderful it is to be a writer and to have readers like you! I also just flat out love it when someone who isn’t a fan of zombies still likes my book (I wasn’t a fan of zombies until a few years ago either).


Thanks so much for brightening my day! I was even more thrilled to find out you were a librarian — very awesome! I do free skype visits with book groups so if you’re ever interested in setting something like that up, please let me know!

Thanks for everything you do to help the next generations find a passion for reading!


Carrie

Yeah.  I so have incentive to build up my book groups now.  A SKYPE CONVERSATION.  I might never recover from this awesomeness.  I AM HAVING A CONVERSATION WITH AN AUTHOR.  This is like, the nerd version of talking to an athlete.  But what am I saying, almost everyone who reads this blog understands my nerdy ways (and probably shares them).

flail flail endless flail

Downs Usually Follow Ups

It is not so much that I am depressed today as it is that yesterday was SO MUCH AWESOME, what with the waking up in a friend's house and then having indirect contact with a famous author.  And then today, I dunno, it was mostly normal (okay, not really, because I got to visit my library friend under the pretext of investigation, and it was really nice) at work.  I was going to visit the Monahans after I got off, but I'm all very insecure, and I didn't know if they would want me dropping in, so I went shopping by myself to finish up some Christmas presents, and then I came home.

I've decided to clean up my Senegal blog, and as I was reading about my adventures almost a year ago, I just....freaked out.  Because I don't know when I'm going overseas again.  I am so freaking attached to Peoria.  It's my comfort.  I have a room, and my parents usually buy my food, and I have friends, and my life has a schedule.

What if I have already become a super big wuss?  Because the idea of going somewhere new with all new people?  Is terrifying.  Sure, it worked out great last time.  But my very dear friend also followed God to another country for a couple months, and it was so not a great experience for her.

I can't move overseas.  People talk to me about marriage, and even though that still feels so ridiculous, part of me thinks being a missionary means giving up boys, or at least giving up certain boys, or certain ideas of boys.  I don't want to find a new culture.  I don't want to learn a new language.  I was self-conscious about my language-acquisition skills before Senegal, and now?  UTTERLY DESTROYED.  People, through joking and serious concern, have made me feel awful and useless when it comes to language.  I can't do it again.  I hate feeling stupid.

What if I don't make friends?  What if I choose the wrong organization?  How am I supposed to go where God wants me to go?  I know He can use me anywhere, but what if one place is really better than another, and I don't choose it?

Ugh.  It's just so stressful trying to live as a missionary, and all I can picture are these couple people who invalidate me, and just, in my head they are waiting for me to fail.  And I'm so scared that I will fail, and they will be right, and everyone who has ever supported me will be disappointed, and probably they will still talk to me and hug me and tell me they love me, but it will be from pity.

Geez.  I am melodramatic.  I hate living alone.  Living with parents feels like living alone.  I want friends.

OMG I AM DYING I AM DYING OF HAPPINESSSSSS

So.  Oh my word.  I can't even collect my thoughts.  But I went to check on my library blog this morning, and noticed an oddly huge spike in views on Saturday, which is when I reviewed Carrie Ryan's book The Forest of Hands and Teeth.  Two people commented, and one person said they found it because Carrie Ryan tweeted that it made her happy.

Um, what?  I didn't really believe it, so I googled Ryan's twitter feed, and scrolled down to December 11th, and this is what I found:

Okay, I rarely read reviews but I clicked on this one for FHT and glad I did. Brightened my day! http://is.gd/iyNr7


OH MY WORD.  CARRIE RYAN READ MY REVIEW OF HER BOOK.  How?  How did she find it?  I don't know!  BUT SHE READ IT AND IT BRIGHTENED HER DAY!

I can't believe it.  I want to die of happiness.  I have, in a very round about way, had a conversation with a brilliant author.  I made a brilliant author happy!  I never in a million years thought that an actual author would read my library blog.  NEVER.  And she did and OH MY WORD.

My heart has not stopped racing for the last hour.  AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

I've Not Slept In Normal Places This Weekend

Gah!  It's just so much fun to live with friends.  I went to Lindsay and Nathan's last night for a party, and it was just so great to help Lindsay make loads of delicious food and talk about life.  Then we all watched American Ninja Warrior (omg the hilarity of its name alone) and ate.  The rest left, and Lindsay and Nathan and I played Coloretto until Nathan went to bed.  Then Lindsay and I stayed up past midnight talking.

My car wouldn't start (Bertha is persnickity about the cold), so I ended up putting my contacts in ketchup bowls, borrowing pajamas, and sleeping on their couch.  Around 6 am something pushed on my stomach, and I jerked up in fear.  It was Forrest, their cat.  She slept on me for the next three hours, and it was just so adorable I didn't care that I couldn't move.

Then Lindsay and I drank coffee and watched the Food Network.  My car started at 10, and thus ended the awesome.

It would be so fun to live with them 24/7.

Fellowship Weekend

The college kids and I planned a Fellowship Weekend (incorrectly named--should have been Service Weekend) for the youth group, and by "college kids and I" who I really mean is Ashley Wineinger.

I'm glad to still be involved with the youth group, because lo!  I am still a child.  Lockins?  Yes, please.  Using my age to snatch couch cushions from the boy's room to sleep on?  Added benefit!

So how much fun was the weekend?  Well, there was much baking of cookies, watching children, and dance parties in the kitchen (which was mostly me jumping around at people who either laughed at me or stared at me like they feared for my sanity....awesomely enough, Michael Baker was most likely to dance along).  We had a little worship service at 9:00, which was great even if the kids utterly ignored the youtube songs we chose.  Then Nathan spoke, which just made my heart squench, and yes I am revolutionizing the world and turning that into a verb.

The kids went outside for a snowball/mud fight, but I played Dominion with Scott, Anessa, Lindsay, and Nathan.  So much fun!  I don't even know how, because there's so little to actually do, and it's not loud and...it's just kind of addicting.  Then we played the dice game from PotC, which is even more randomly fun.

Finally at 2:00 we all went to bed.  Mostly.

In the morning we ate breakfast and played PotC dice (Nathan: Soooo...we have five seconds, want to play?) until teams were divvied up and we were off to visit Seasoned Saints.  Which, I'm sorry, but I think I would take far more offense at being labeled "Seasoned Saints" than "older members of our church."  Don't patronize me, youngsters! 

I was paired with Kayli, which was lovely, because we've never actually had a chance to talk, and I quite like her.  We visited three families, and it was all just really great.  We were lucky to have people who were not weirded out with "hello people I barely know--come sit in my living room!" and who were conversationally vibrant.  I actually really enjoyed the morning, and I think Kayli did too.

Then hanging out and disgusting details of childbirth (though this time from the male perspective, which was so much more with the hilarity), then lunch, then Viral Video Film School BECAUSE THAT NEVER STOPS BEING FUNNY, then home.  Then I slept for four hours, because I was beat.

Also, I finished memorizing Psalm 139!  I'm glad David got me into that, because it really is valuable to memorize Scripture and have it come to mind.  During worship last night, we sang some song about God being with us and shining on us, so I leaned over to David and said, "When I awake, I am still with You" and he was all, "I was just thinking that!"  How fun to talk Bible and it be about life.  Good times.

Family

Roy came home this weekend.  I feel like I should have a lot to say about that, but the only thing in my head is this:  It's nice not being an only child, even if only for a weekend.

Being surrounded by my blood family was lovely, and there was a lot of laughter and memories, etc.  But it made me appreciate my spiritual family, oddly enough.  Because the biggest thing in my life is God.  Everything revolves around Him--my past, my present, my future.  And while I'm getting better about being honest about God's impact on my life when talking with my father and brother, it's a totally different thing to talk TO someone about God rather than talk WITH someone.

I love my church family, who mock me and love me and encourage me.  I love my friends, who inspire me and put me in my place and fill me with joy.  I love the believers around the world who are serving God and allowing me to participate by financially supporting them.  I love Melengo, my Tanzanian Compassion kid who just sent me new pictures.

It astounds me how my heart is knitted so closely to these people who are from my city or from other countries, who are male and female, who are young and old, who I have known for years or have never met.  The only thing we all have in common is a love for Jesus, and somehow, magically supernaturally, that makes us family.   I love that.

So I love Roy, and I love my mom and my dad.  But more than the blood bonds I have with them, I am thankful for the extended and ever-growing family God has given me.