....I love when I read something and think, "YES EXACTLY. You have stolen my thoughts and put them on the interwebs as your own. Can we be BFFs?"
Little known fact (or maybe everyone knows this about me, but I doubt it): My favorite Greek mythology story is the one in which Hades loves and steal Persephone. Epic love. I even read the junior high version of it in the Goddess Girls series. Anyway, Meg Cabot is coming out with a new book called Abandon, and it's a retelling of the story. Forever Young Adult, my favorite book blog (because it's more adult than young, which makes it awesome, and also makes me feel less juvenile), reviewed the book. And said this:
"Big ups for the myth of Persephone! I’m pretty sure I am not the only quasi-goth here who was OBSESSED with the myth of Persephone in junior high and high school and favored it over most, if not all, of the other Greek myths. I mean, it was just so cool! She gets stolen! To the Underworld! And her mom laments and causes eternal winter! But then Hades strikes a deal with Zeus and returns he Persephone for most of the year but keeps her down in the Underworld for one season a year and that’s why it snows, boys and girls. The snow is Demeter’s ICE TEARS, Y’ALL.
And even though, looking back, it is, you know, not exactly a great myth to favor, considering Persephone is abducted, raped, and finally tricked into staying in the Underworld, and I’m not entirely sure why I love it as much as I do, it’s still a favorite of mine. What I like about Abandon is that it takes care to mention that, you know, a guy abducting you and forcing you to live in his underground lair is NOT OKAY, even if the swoonometer is at 7.
Also, am I the only person who still pauses before eating pomegranate seeds and thinks, “um, where were these sourced? ARE THEY FROM THE UNDERWORLD? Oh. Arizona? Nope, still too close for comfort. PASS.”
Oh my word, why can't I be clever and hilarious like that? I think those thoughts! Why do I not have the words to say them? So much fun!
ADDED:
Bah! And then I scrolled down and read more awesomeness. Must share, because now I'm commmitted:
"So, one of my Most Awesome Skills is my ability to forget something, five minutes after it’s told to me. This is a totally useful skill to have, because it allows me to reread books and rewatch movies ENDLESSLY. Because after about three months I’ve forgotten everything but the main parts!
UNFORTCH, this also means that when someone says something, like, I don’t know, “I’m coming out with a new trilogy! The first book will be called Abandon!” what my brain hears is “I’ve got a book called Abandon coming out! Let’s order another martini!” So then I read Abandon and got about halfway through and had that sinking feeling – you know the one, it’s similar to the one you get when you start baking something and realize that you’re missing ONE ingredient and either have to go to the store or scrap your entire batter – the “OH SHIT THIS IS A TRILOGY!” feeling. You know what happens in the first book of a trilogy? NOT SEX OR PLOT RESOLUTION, I’ll tell you that! I mean, sure, trilogies are awesomesauce. WHEN THEY ARE COMPLETE. Can you imagine what would have happened if George Lucas had decided not to finish his Star Wars trilogy and just left it at A New Hope? We would be shipping Luke and Leah and we would have never met Lando Calrissian, the smoothest mofo in the galaxy! And what about The Godfather? What if The Godfather Trilogy had ended with Godfather I? A nation’s people might never have learned about the crushing despair that comes from watching a once-brilliant film franchise decline into two hours of Sofia Coppola screeching!
I mean, don’t get me wrong. I am SUPER GLAD I’ll be spending two more books with Pierce and John and the assorted cast of Isla Huesos. I am just having to fight the urge to keep Meg Cabot locked in a plastic bubble until the next two books are finished."
BAHAHAHAHAHA.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Nice Things
At the library today, I bonded with this kid who has yet to make it through an entire half hour story time. While I was getting things ready and going between the meeting room and my office, I must have tricked him into thinking it was time to start. He looked up at me with serious eyes and said, "I'm not ready yet."
I responded, "Good, because I'm not either!" He blinked, unsure why I was agreeing with him.
Five minutes later I returned and said, "I'm ready now. Are you!?" With added over-the-top enthusiasm as per usual. (I wanted to say uzsh, use, ushz...and that was my problem.)
We sat down and everyone introduced themselves. Turns out it was this kid's birthday, so I asked what he was doing.
"I'msmefh Chuckie Cheese. ... Do you want to come to my birthday?"
*heartmelt*
(His grandma apparently also heartmelted, because she covered her mouth, squinched her eyes, and threw back her head to the heavens. I was less obvious. I think.)
So that was that. Then I gave library tours to three different 2nd grade classes. After the second, one girl came up to me and asked, "Are you a hugger?"
Suspecting this was a trick question, I haltingly answered, "Yeees."
She hugged me.
And THAT was that.
Then tonight I was listening to "Far Away" by Ingrid Michaelson, and I had a truly awesome creative idea. I really hope I have the drive to finish it, but I have already spent two hours working on it after church, so I've got to call it quits. I'm also only 1% done, so....we'll see how this goes. But I really want to do it! It looks so awesome in my head.
I responded, "Good, because I'm not either!" He blinked, unsure why I was agreeing with him.
Five minutes later I returned and said, "I'm ready now. Are you!?" With added over-the-top enthusiasm as per usual. (I wanted to say uzsh, use, ushz...and that was my problem.)
We sat down and everyone introduced themselves. Turns out it was this kid's birthday, so I asked what he was doing.
"I'msmefh Chuckie Cheese. ... Do you want to come to my birthday?"
*heartmelt*
(His grandma apparently also heartmelted, because she covered her mouth, squinched her eyes, and threw back her head to the heavens. I was less obvious. I think.)
So that was that. Then I gave library tours to three different 2nd grade classes. After the second, one girl came up to me and asked, "Are you a hugger?"
Suspecting this was a trick question, I haltingly answered, "Yeees."
She hugged me.
And THAT was that.
Then tonight I was listening to "Far Away" by Ingrid Michaelson, and I had a truly awesome creative idea. I really hope I have the drive to finish it, but I have already spent two hours working on it after church, so I've got to call it quits. I'm also only 1% done, so....we'll see how this goes. But I really want to do it! It looks so awesome in my head.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Result
I'm not up to 50% missions/50% me, but I did make a move in that direction. I decided to sponsor another child, and when I searched WorldVision's website, I saw that children from Senegal were listed. I searched for eight-year-olds, and prayed that God would help me choose. I wanted a girl named Siga, and there was one--whose favorite school subject is reading!
So now Siga from Senegal and Melengo from Tanzania are my spiritual children, and of course of course this is the best way I can possibly spend my money.
(Sidenote: When you decide to sponsor a child, you get taken to WorldVision's shopping cart, where you purchase that sponsorship. UGH that just elicited a horrific disgusting feeling, but...I'm not buying Siga. I'm sending my abundance to fill her need. They just really need to rework their website, kthx.)
So now Siga from Senegal and Melengo from Tanzania are my spiritual children, and of course of course this is the best way I can possibly spend my money.
(Sidenote: When you decide to sponsor a child, you get taken to WorldVision's shopping cart, where you purchase that sponsorship. UGH that just elicited a horrific disgusting feeling, but...I'm not buying Siga. I'm sending my abundance to fill her need. They just really need to rework their website, kthx.)
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Weekend at Judson
Garmin took me through backroads to get to Judson University, but I didn't mind because I was listening to White Cat (an awesome book by Holly Black) read by Jesse Eisenberg, whose voice is just....*sigh*.
Emily and I sat around her fantastically decorated and shelved dorm room, catching up on life and forming a plan of attack. We ended up going to Woodfield Mall, where we wandered through stores while we talked about our obsession with stuff and trying to avoid that. Needless to say, we didn't actually buy anything. We ate dinner at Ruby Tuesday and discussed...everything! I felt like I was in a state of verbal explosion most of the night, but I just really needed someone with whom I could be honest and angry and vulnerable and frustrated and happy. AKA a friend. So that was nice.
We met up with Joe at a commons (where I had flashbacks to little music camp back in the day), and we talked about missions (which mostly went: Joe-So I want to go overseas-- Me: YES YES YES DO THAT!) and played cards until midnight.
Sleeping on the floor was painful.
Emily woke me up and said Joel was in the hospital, which was a different kind of painful.
Joe came with us to Geneva/St. Charles. While we were filling up the car with gas, Emily got a call with details of Joel's procedure. We immediately prayed together, and I was incredibly grateful for friends who do that.
We went to a shop that Wendy had said I would like. Because it was supposed to be "me" I was, of course, skeptical. But no, she was right. Everything was adorable and creative and fantastic. Also expensive. I ended up getting a pin that says, "add mirth and real enjoyment to life's requirements" because it was only $1.
Then we crossed the street to check out an adorable rambling bookstore. Emily got another call saying everything had gone well, so things were lighter and happier after that. We ate at a cafe attached to the bookstore, and I had such a fantastic time hanging out with Emily and Joe. We've never done anything just the three of us, and I am pleased to add them to the list of couples who do not make me feel like a third wheel.
On our way back to campus, Joe wanted me to see the rich houses near their church. I said sure, but was secretly thinking he was making a big deal out of some silly mini-mansions. NO. We pulled off a normal street into a neighborhood and my eyes went 0_o. These were the hugest, most ridiculous houses I've ever seen. They looked like they belonged in British movies with Darcy or Earnest. We awed and critiqued and admired and gaped. Also we drove through one driveway because we are so bad-a.
After gathering our things from the dorm, we all headed back to Peoria. I got lost because I tried to follow Emily's directions instead of Garmin, the combination of which made me stupid (like that's hard when it comes to directions). But I was still listening to Jesse Eisenberg's awesome voice telling an awesome story, so I didn't care at all.
Emily and I sat around her fantastically decorated and shelved dorm room, catching up on life and forming a plan of attack. We ended up going to Woodfield Mall, where we wandered through stores while we talked about our obsession with stuff and trying to avoid that. Needless to say, we didn't actually buy anything. We ate dinner at Ruby Tuesday and discussed...everything! I felt like I was in a state of verbal explosion most of the night, but I just really needed someone with whom I could be honest and angry and vulnerable and frustrated and happy. AKA a friend. So that was nice.
We met up with Joe at a commons (where I had flashbacks to little music camp back in the day), and we talked about missions (which mostly went: Joe-So I want to go overseas-- Me: YES YES YES DO THAT!) and played cards until midnight.
Sleeping on the floor was painful.
Emily woke me up and said Joel was in the hospital, which was a different kind of painful.
Joe came with us to Geneva/St. Charles. While we were filling up the car with gas, Emily got a call with details of Joel's procedure. We immediately prayed together, and I was incredibly grateful for friends who do that.
We went to a shop that Wendy had said I would like. Because it was supposed to be "me" I was, of course, skeptical. But no, she was right. Everything was adorable and creative and fantastic. Also expensive. I ended up getting a pin that says, "add mirth and real enjoyment to life's requirements" because it was only $1.
Then we crossed the street to check out an adorable rambling bookstore. Emily got another call saying everything had gone well, so things were lighter and happier after that. We ate at a cafe attached to the bookstore, and I had such a fantastic time hanging out with Emily and Joe. We've never done anything just the three of us, and I am pleased to add them to the list of couples who do not make me feel like a third wheel.
On our way back to campus, Joe wanted me to see the rich houses near their church. I said sure, but was secretly thinking he was making a big deal out of some silly mini-mansions. NO. We pulled off a normal street into a neighborhood and my eyes went 0_o. These were the hugest, most ridiculous houses I've ever seen. They looked like they belonged in British movies with Darcy or Earnest. We awed and critiqued and admired and gaped. Also we drove through one driveway because we are so bad-a.
After gathering our things from the dorm, we all headed back to Peoria. I got lost because I tried to follow Emily's directions instead of Garmin, the combination of which made me stupid (like that's hard when it comes to directions). But I was still listening to Jesse Eisenberg's awesome voice telling an awesome story, so I didn't care at all.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Sushi!
I went out to eat with Michelle and Lacie, two Dunlap friends, at a sushi place near Bradley. None of us had ever been there, but it turned out to be fantastic! I was a bit worried, because the last time I ate sushi, I spent the night puking my guts out in the Dakar guest house's toilet. Thankfully, I think I have avoided food aversion!
One of my favorite things about sushi is that it's so easily sharable. Everyone gets a different roll, then trades with each other. But my new favorite thing is when the chef sends out dessert free of charge! We each got a hollowed out orange filled with orange slices, chocolate, and cinnamon. Oh my word delicious. And they were each decorated beautifully.
I need to eat out with cute 20s girls more often. Free food rocks.
One of my favorite things about sushi is that it's so easily sharable. Everyone gets a different roll, then trades with each other. But my new favorite thing is when the chef sends out dessert free of charge! We each got a hollowed out orange filled with orange slices, chocolate, and cinnamon. Oh my word delicious. And they were each decorated beautifully.
I need to eat out with cute 20s girls more often. Free food rocks.
Restatement
Okay, better worded question. It makes awesome logical sense to spend 50% of my money on me, and 50% on missions. As my budget stands now, if personal missions counts as others, then I'm at 50%. If it doesn't, then I'm not.
So it's not at all that personal mission trips are my only missional giving. I completely think that would be wrong. But does it count as part of it? Honestly, I'm thinking no, which means some heavy budgetary revisions if I'm going to do 50%.
So it's not at all that personal mission trips are my only missional giving. I completely think that would be wrong. But does it count as part of it? Honestly, I'm thinking no, which means some heavy budgetary revisions if I'm going to do 50%.
Help Me, Please, I want to be Better
Continuing to read Hole in our Gospel. Rick talks about the differences between most suburban American churches and most developing-world churches. He says the two reasons we are not doing everything in our power to bridge the gap of inequality and injustice are these: 1) lack of awareness and 2) self-absorption.
He says an easy way to gauge a church's values are to look at its bulletin. How many programs are inward-church member-focused? How many are outward-world-focused? If you pass that test, then the second is to look at the church budget. Is there a 50/50 divide between church needs and world needs?
I think that is all extremely important, but there is little I can do about it. So what I wonder is, what about all this on an individual level? Do I spend 50% of my time focused on my needs, and 50% on others? What about my budget? Do I allocate 50% of my money to my needs, and 50% to caring for others?
I want to make my budget 50/50. So I end with a question. Does putting money in a travel account, saving up for mission trips, count as personal or missional?
He says an easy way to gauge a church's values are to look at its bulletin. How many programs are inward-church member-focused? How many are outward-world-focused? If you pass that test, then the second is to look at the church budget. Is there a 50/50 divide between church needs and world needs?
I think that is all extremely important, but there is little I can do about it. So what I wonder is, what about all this on an individual level? Do I spend 50% of my time focused on my needs, and 50% on others? What about my budget? Do I allocate 50% of my money to my needs, and 50% to caring for others?
I want to make my budget 50/50. So I end with a question. Does putting money in a travel account, saving up for mission trips, count as personal or missional?
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Changing
For the first 16-18 years of my life, all I wanted was to be a stay at home wife, raising kids and living in a mansion in the suburbs with one room dedicated to books.
From ages 16-20, I fell in love with traveling, and I started to fantasize about living overseas for awhile before settling into my suburban paradise. It was always a fantasy, and it was always a big, first-world, European city.
At age 21, I lived overseas for five months in a poor country in the world's poorest continent.
Now at age 23, Senegal isn't poor enough. I want to go to the places where people die of malnutrition, where water is scarce, and where disease ravages families. I want to live amongst people who have no education and no hope of having a better life. I want to help those people, to show them love and compassion.
And I want to avoid the suburbs with all my heart. I never want to upgrade to a bigger house. I never want to wonder, "Gee, I have so much money, should I buy a boat or a sports car?" There are people I respect who do these things, but for myself...the idea terrifies me. I don't want to give money a foothold in my life, because there are so many other ways I can spend it than on myself. If I start, I might never stop. And then the woman who could start a sewing business on a $50 loan might never get my money, and the family who received a goat might never get my money, and the AIDS prevention campaigns might never get my money.
And that's just money. What about my time? My presence? I know I am just one person, and I have no idea what I can do to make this world better, but I know that God wants all of us to do it, so...there must be something. I cannot deny the poor and the needy of my gifts and talents, when that is exactly what I was created to do.
I want to give up my money and my privilege in order to help those who have neither. I can't help but think God wants us privileged white Americans to stop talking about what we believe so much, and instead start living out our faith, bringing God's kingdom to earth. Why would Jesus ever come back to rule over a planet that is in far worse shape than when he first came? We are supposed to be changing that!
I want to stop talking and blogging, and start doing. I want Mongolia to hurry up and get here so I can take the next step after that. I know I am learning and growing in this waiting time, but I'm ready to stop waiting and start going! There are so many people who need help, and I want to help as many of them as I can with however long I will live.
From suburban housewife to wannabe-poverty-eradicator....there is no explanation for my complete change of life's goal other than the Holy Spirit. Kind of scary, kind of awesome.
From ages 16-20, I fell in love with traveling, and I started to fantasize about living overseas for awhile before settling into my suburban paradise. It was always a fantasy, and it was always a big, first-world, European city.
At age 21, I lived overseas for five months in a poor country in the world's poorest continent.
Now at age 23, Senegal isn't poor enough. I want to go to the places where people die of malnutrition, where water is scarce, and where disease ravages families. I want to live amongst people who have no education and no hope of having a better life. I want to help those people, to show them love and compassion.
And I want to avoid the suburbs with all my heart. I never want to upgrade to a bigger house. I never want to wonder, "Gee, I have so much money, should I buy a boat or a sports car?" There are people I respect who do these things, but for myself...the idea terrifies me. I don't want to give money a foothold in my life, because there are so many other ways I can spend it than on myself. If I start, I might never stop. And then the woman who could start a sewing business on a $50 loan might never get my money, and the family who received a goat might never get my money, and the AIDS prevention campaigns might never get my money.
And that's just money. What about my time? My presence? I know I am just one person, and I have no idea what I can do to make this world better, but I know that God wants all of us to do it, so...there must be something. I cannot deny the poor and the needy of my gifts and talents, when that is exactly what I was created to do.
I want to give up my money and my privilege in order to help those who have neither. I can't help but think God wants us privileged white Americans to stop talking about what we believe so much, and instead start living out our faith, bringing God's kingdom to earth. Why would Jesus ever come back to rule over a planet that is in far worse shape than when he first came? We are supposed to be changing that!
I want to stop talking and blogging, and start doing. I want Mongolia to hurry up and get here so I can take the next step after that. I know I am learning and growing in this waiting time, but I'm ready to stop waiting and start going! There are so many people who need help, and I want to help as many of them as I can with however long I will live.
From suburban housewife to wannabe-poverty-eradicator....there is no explanation for my complete change of life's goal other than the Holy Spirit. Kind of scary, kind of awesome.
Monday, March 21, 2011
The Hole in our Gospel
Of course after writing yesterday about having my change-the-world mentality renewed, I would crack open the book Wendy lent me called The Hole in our Gospel. It's by the president of World Vision, and in the preface/introduction, not only did he mention the "let your will be done on earth as it is in heaven" verse from the Lord's prayer, but he also talks about how we're meant to change the world.
I love when God teaches me something, then shows it to me again as if saying, "I'm serious about this, kay?"
I mean, come on. Check out this quote from the very first page.
What is God asking for, really, from you and me? Much more than church attendance. More than prayer, too. More than belief, and even more than self-denial. God asks us for everything. He requires a total life commitment from those who would be His followers. In fact, Christ calls us to be His partners in changing our world, just as He called the Twelve to change their world two thousand years ago.
It's like he is reading my mind, but stating my thoughts more eloquently.
And that's just page one. My arm is getting tired from all the air-punching I'm doing.
I love when God teaches me something, then shows it to me again as if saying, "I'm serious about this, kay?"
I mean, come on. Check out this quote from the very first page.
What is God asking for, really, from you and me? Much more than church attendance. More than prayer, too. More than belief, and even more than self-denial. God asks us for everything. He requires a total life commitment from those who would be His followers. In fact, Christ calls us to be His partners in changing our world, just as He called the Twelve to change their world two thousand years ago.
It's like he is reading my mind, but stating my thoughts more eloquently.
And that's just page one. My arm is getting tired from all the air-punching I'm doing.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Feeling Good and Reenergized
I've been down for awhile now. I looked up the symptoms to depression, and no, I'm definitely not clinically depressed. Too bad--"unhappy" just sounds lame. In combination with loneliness, I had a break down in the shower, and I realized that I am feeling spiritually drained. I love the stuff I'm doing at church, but other than sermons, there's nothing that fills me. There's no one teaching me. I realized this when I burst out, "I'm tired of serving You!" And I immediately felt like God responded, "I want you to rest in me."
That revelation--that I feel like I'm giving more than I'm capable, and I'm scared to talk to God in case He asks me to do more--helped me understand why I've been avoiding prayer and reading my Bible. So last night, I asked God to comfort me. I opened up the Bible, aiming for the Psalms, and my eyes fell on Psalm 73. It was....so not applicable. But I figured I should keep reading, and then I got to this:
When my heart was grieved and my spirit was embittered, I was senseless and ignorant; I was a brute beast before you.
Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Those who are far from you will perish; you destroy all who are unfaithful to you. But as for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Sovereign Lord my refuge; I will tell of all your deeds.
Psalm 73: 21-28
YES. That right there. Is why I love God.
This morning Harold Booze talked about his trip to Niger. It ended with a video of people from around the world, and as the song (with lyrics about the all the nations rejoicing in God) built to a climax, video of people in Africa, Asia, and Europe being baptized played every few seconds. I was overwhelmed. I want to see that.
There was a call to prayer, and I went forward to our steps. I never go forward for things. I can make commitments in my head where I stand, thank you very much. But I think the importance of going forward is psychological. It is a physical symbol of your choice, and the action makes the belief more solid. I felt like I ought to go forward, and then my feet were moving and it was too late. As soon as I knelt down, tears just kind of exploded from my eyes. I couldn't pray anything other than, "Help me, God. I want so much. Help me." Images of Lamba and Mame Codou went through my head. I want to be a missionary. I want to fix the world. I want the friends I make to know and love Jesus. I want to be better at talking about the God I profess to love so much.
Then in Sunday School, we talked about the Lord's Prayer. When we got to "let your will be done on earth as it is in heaven," I was taken over by this surety that we as Christians need to do more. How does God's will become practice on earth? When we live it! There is serious evil going on in our world. Harold mentioned sex trafficking briefly in his talk. WE SHOULD BE FIGHTING THAT.
I just...it made me realize what it means to be soldiers of God. Does it matter what worldly activities we don't do? Sure. But I think the things that will really make the world see God and worship Jesus are the pro-active DOING things. We need to get off our couches and out of our materialistic worlds, and actively fight against evil, and actively show radical love.
I need to get off my couch and out of my materialistic world. I want to change the world. I think God wants me to change the world. I think He's waiting for us to stop thinking about ourselves and start putting the rest of the world first.
Today was a good day.
That revelation--that I feel like I'm giving more than I'm capable, and I'm scared to talk to God in case He asks me to do more--helped me understand why I've been avoiding prayer and reading my Bible. So last night, I asked God to comfort me. I opened up the Bible, aiming for the Psalms, and my eyes fell on Psalm 73. It was....so not applicable. But I figured I should keep reading, and then I got to this:
When my heart was grieved and my spirit was embittered, I was senseless and ignorant; I was a brute beast before you.
Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Those who are far from you will perish; you destroy all who are unfaithful to you. But as for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Sovereign Lord my refuge; I will tell of all your deeds.
Psalm 73: 21-28
YES. That right there. Is why I love God.
This morning Harold Booze talked about his trip to Niger. It ended with a video of people from around the world, and as the song (with lyrics about the all the nations rejoicing in God) built to a climax, video of people in Africa, Asia, and Europe being baptized played every few seconds. I was overwhelmed. I want to see that.
There was a call to prayer, and I went forward to our steps. I never go forward for things. I can make commitments in my head where I stand, thank you very much. But I think the importance of going forward is psychological. It is a physical symbol of your choice, and the action makes the belief more solid. I felt like I ought to go forward, and then my feet were moving and it was too late. As soon as I knelt down, tears just kind of exploded from my eyes. I couldn't pray anything other than, "Help me, God. I want so much. Help me." Images of Lamba and Mame Codou went through my head. I want to be a missionary. I want to fix the world. I want the friends I make to know and love Jesus. I want to be better at talking about the God I profess to love so much.
Then in Sunday School, we talked about the Lord's Prayer. When we got to "let your will be done on earth as it is in heaven," I was taken over by this surety that we as Christians need to do more. How does God's will become practice on earth? When we live it! There is serious evil going on in our world. Harold mentioned sex trafficking briefly in his talk. WE SHOULD BE FIGHTING THAT.
I just...it made me realize what it means to be soldiers of God. Does it matter what worldly activities we don't do? Sure. But I think the things that will really make the world see God and worship Jesus are the pro-active DOING things. We need to get off our couches and out of our materialistic worlds, and actively fight against evil, and actively show radical love.
I need to get off my couch and out of my materialistic world. I want to change the world. I think God wants me to change the world. I think He's waiting for us to stop thinking about ourselves and start putting the rest of the world first.
Today was a good day.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Birthdays Past
I have been completely spoiled the last four years where birthdays are concerned. And since my standard is high, this year's 23rd birthday...sucked. My awesome mom tried really hard to make it fun, but it just didn't feel like a birthday. I told Roy this felt like the first step towards being a grownup, and he assured me you can still have fabulous birthday parties even when you're old. So...apparently I just need to move to a place where I have friends.
Moving right along to the birthdays that spoiled me:
19th: Freshman year
My roommates decorated the living room while I was asleep. Whitney wore my favorite color so my eyeballs would be aesthetically pleased. I was driven to my classes. When I came back to my room in the middle of the day, my floor was covered in balloons that had things written on them like "I love your Yankee/Southern accent." And, oh yeah, there was a life-size cardboard cutout of Spike just inside my doorway, which momentarily terrified me.
Shari and Nellene came over to take pictures with Spike. We ate a homemade meal and a cookie cake because they knew that was my favorite. We watched the Buffy musical. We watched Casino Royale, because I'd been bugging them all week to watch it with me, but they refused. It was really bothering me, but they were trying to save it for my special day.
20th: Sophomore Year
This was only a month after the tornado, so my roommates and I were now in the Walker apartment. It was raining, and I was still in a post-tornado funk. But when I got to our front door, there was a picture of James McAvoy greeting me with happy birthday wishes. Several of my friends came over, and we had a feast. We ended the night taking pictures and playing the Stupid Ninja Game.
21st: Junior Year
I turned 21 just a couple months after going to Turkey. It was momentous because ALL my favorite people went to Chick-fil-a for my birthday dinner. My Craig 3 Sisters, the Hughes family, and my Turkey team were all there. It was wonderful.
Then my roommates took me to the nearest ice skating rink, since that is my childhood birthday party place, two hours away in Franklin, TN. We skated and ate Panera (which wasn't in Jackson then).
22nd: Senegal
Liz shared my birthday=you are the only person who matters that day mentality, so I was treated to favorite TV shows (she even watched an episode of Fruits Basket with me, despite her complete uninterest), favorite foods, and free Vimtos. We rode her moto for miles out into the African wilderness because I love riding motos and I wanted a picnic. I forgot that the African wilderness is not very picnic-friendly, what with the sand and prickly ground. But we ate and read and tried to avoid thorns as best we could. Then a herd of big-horned cows came to our tree, and we were scared, so we left. Later that night we had dinner with Yayoi and Laina, and the power went off, but we had candles! After they left, Liz and I watched Buffy, and then we filmed some of our dance video. Perfect day.
Moving right along to the birthdays that spoiled me:
19th: Freshman year
My roommates decorated the living room while I was asleep. Whitney wore my favorite color so my eyeballs would be aesthetically pleased. I was driven to my classes. When I came back to my room in the middle of the day, my floor was covered in balloons that had things written on them like "I love your Yankee/Southern accent." And, oh yeah, there was a life-size cardboard cutout of Spike just inside my doorway, which momentarily terrified me.
Shari and Nellene came over to take pictures with Spike. We ate a homemade meal and a cookie cake because they knew that was my favorite. We watched the Buffy musical. We watched Casino Royale, because I'd been bugging them all week to watch it with me, but they refused. It was really bothering me, but they were trying to save it for my special day.
I can't find the pictures from my birthday DAY, but this is Spike.
Oh, the embarrassing fun we had with him.
20th: Sophomore Year
This was only a month after the tornado, so my roommates and I were now in the Walker apartment. It was raining, and I was still in a post-tornado funk. But when I got to our front door, there was a picture of James McAvoy greeting me with happy birthday wishes. Several of my friends came over, and we had a feast. We ended the night taking pictures and playing the Stupid Ninja Game.
21st: Junior Year
I turned 21 just a couple months after going to Turkey. It was momentous because ALL my favorite people went to Chick-fil-a for my birthday dinner. My Craig 3 Sisters, the Hughes family, and my Turkey team were all there. It was wonderful.
Then my roommates took me to the nearest ice skating rink, since that is my childhood birthday party place, two hours away in Franklin, TN. We skated and ate Panera (which wasn't in Jackson then).
22nd: Senegal
Liz shared my birthday=you are the only person who matters that day mentality, so I was treated to favorite TV shows (she even watched an episode of Fruits Basket with me, despite her complete uninterest), favorite foods, and free Vimtos. We rode her moto for miles out into the African wilderness because I love riding motos and I wanted a picnic. I forgot that the African wilderness is not very picnic-friendly, what with the sand and prickly ground. But we ate and read and tried to avoid thorns as best we could. Then a herd of big-horned cows came to our tree, and we were scared, so we left. Later that night we had dinner with Yayoi and Laina, and the power went off, but we had candles! After they left, Liz and I watched Buffy, and then we filmed some of our dance video. Perfect day.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Shipping Meme
Six ships you are into right now:
1. Damon/Elena (Vampire Diaries)
2. Sawyer/Kate (LOST)
3. Buffy/Spike (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
4. Katniss/Peeta (Hunger Games)
5. Starbuck/Apollo (Battlestar Galactica)
6. Troy/Britta (Community)
Three ships you liked but don't like anymore:
7. Hermione/Ron (Harry Potter)
8. Buffy/Angel (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
9. Puck/Rachel (Glee)
Four ships you never liked:
10. Harry/Ginny (Harry Potter)
11. Jeff/Annie (Community)
12. Rory/Dean (Gilmore Girls)
13. Veronica/Duncan (Veronica Mars)
Two ships you're curious about but don't actually ship:
14. Echo/Paul (Dollhouse)
15. Wesley/Lilah (Angel)
Why do you dislike 11 so much?
(Jeff/Annie) Because I just don't like Annie herself. She's too peppy and falls back on indignation too often to be funny. Her schoolgirl crush on Jeff makes sense, but whenever he starts to return her advances...gag me.
Who is someone you know that ships 14?
(Echo/Paul) Oh no! I don't know...it's not that I'm curious because someone else likes them. I'm curious because the show ships them, and I've never been 100% for or against them.
What would be your ideal scenario for 3?
(Buffy/Spike) I actually have high hopes for them in canon. I've always loved their partnership...that Spike is ready to back up Buffy, and she defends him in return. From what I saw in the season 8 comics, that camaraderie was still there. Now that Buffy is feeling the weight of the apocolypse on her shoulders, I think the playing field is a little more even. Spike's been behaving with complete maturity while Buffy is the one regressing. Hopefully that means any "You're beneath me" crap is totally finished. On with season 9!
What is your favourite moment for 1?
(Damon/Elena) Definitely the Miss Mystic Falls day, when Stephan is all blood crazy and therefore out of the picture. Damon steps in when Elena needs someone, and then they do the dance where they never actually touch because it's all in the anticipation. WHICH IS WHAT THIS SHIP IS ALL ABOUT. I won't lie, that was the moment I pulled my knees to my chin and squealed like a 12-year-old fangirl, because that is what I am at heart.
How long have you been following 6?
(Troy/Britta) Only a month or two. Don't ask me why, but it was this scene that cemented my love for them as a pairing. So much comedic potential!
What's the story with 8? What made you stop liking/caring?
(Buffy/Angel) Well...Spike came along. For the first season, I was super intrigued by the idea that she fell in love with the guy she was supposed to be fighting against. But once Spike showed that you could also be AWESOME in the process, well, the answer was easy. Send Angel to his own show and give him Cordelia!
You have the power to make one ship nonexistent. Choose from 10 or 12.
(Harry/Ginny) or (Rory/Dean) Ahhh I don't know! Rory dumped Dean on her own. And then took him back for some adultery because wut?? But she dumped him again. Harry and Ginny never realized how awful their love story was. So I'll go with Harry/Ginny, for their own good.
Which ship do you prefer, 2 or 4?
(Sawyer/Kate) or (Katniss/Peeta) Hm. I did really like Sawyer's relationship with Kate through season 3 of LOST. But it lost a lot of momentum, then hinted at a reunion, then just pretended it never happened. Booo.
On the better hand, Katniss and Peeta have an actual love story in which they, you know, fall in love. They go through hell together, then try to make a better life with each other in the aftermath. And since Peeta is my fictional boyfriend of choice, I pretty much have to choose them.
What interests you about 15?
(Wesley/Lilah) They are so screwed up! And that generally means awesome in my book. I like that their relationship was mutually selfish in the beginning, but turned into actual (mostly unstated) affection by the end. Of course, it was then cut short by tragedy, but this is Joss Whedon we're talking about. The reason I'm on the curious side is that I was always a Wesley/Fred shipper, and I just really wanted him to get the girl he'd been pining after for years.
Why did you stop liking 7?
(Hermione/Ron) I liked their bickering relationship in the first few books. It was very much a childish way to express a crush, which made sense because they were kids. But as they grew up and their bickering turned into full out fights...I just sat back and grimaced. How is hitting and screaming and bitter disappointment a recipe for a healthy, long lasting relationship? It was at that point that I saw how Harry and Hermione stood as equals, encouraging and uplifting each other, both actual threats in the war against Voldemort...and I was sold. Give me a love based in friendship over a love based in anger ANY DAY. Of course, J.K. Rowling does not share my opinion.
Did your waning interest in 9 kill your interest in the show?
(Puck/Rachel) No, because the relationships on Glee are always transitory. I watch the show for the music and the jokes, not the plot. And anyway, we got Puck/Zizes out of the deal, which is so much fun!
What's a song that reminds you of 5?
(Starbuck/Apollo) Oh gosh. I'm going to cheat and look online...brb. OH! Definitely Bad Romance by Lady Gaga. They are so screwed up, and they bring out the best and especially the worst in each other.
If you could have any two of these pairings double date, who would it be?
Spike/Buffy and Katniss/Peeta. I think they would have a lot in common, what with the girls being shouldered with the responsibility of saving the world, and the guys happily supporting them.
Have 2 kissed yet?
(Sawyer/Kate) Yes. Also their show is done.
Did 4 have a happy ending? If the show hasn't ended yet, do you think a happy ending is likely?
(Katniss/Peeta) They ended up together, but it wasn't exactly happy....but it was perfect! Mockingjay supporters FTW!
What would make you start shipping 14?
(Echo/Paul) Probably a rewatch. Knowing how it ends might make me more invested in the rest.
If only one could happen, which would you prefer, 2 or 6?
(Sawyer/Kate or Troy/Britta) This is hard because LOST is done, and they didn't happen, while Community still is going strong, meaning there's a shot. But if I could change LOST, I would definitely put Sawyer and Kate together. Juliet was meant for Jack.
You have the power to decide the fate of 10. What happens to them?
(Harry/Ginny) If we pretend the epilogue doesn't exist (DONE), then I say after graduation, they slowly realize their relationship is built on nothing. Ginny yells at him for treating her like a trophy, ignoring her his seventh year. Harry realizes he just wanted her to be his mother-figure. They break up, avoid each other for a year, then start hanging out as friends when Harry dates Hermione, Ginny dates Neville, and Ron finds someone who didn't go to Hogwarts.
Which do you dislike the most?
(Veronica/Duncan) I can understand her dating the stereotypical cool guy when she was the stereotypical cool girl. But then the world crapped on her and she took all that pain to become awesome....she became so much better than him! He is boring! And he doesn't even know it! And then she dates awesome Logan, so you think she's learned her lesson, but no. Back to Duncan. Ugh, Veronica. What were you thinking?
Which of these ships do you like the most?
Obviously Buffy/Spike is my OTP. But I love Katniss/Peeta as a real relationship, mostly because I actually know that they end up together and live with PTSD forever after. But in terms of current emotional investment, I've got to go with Damon/Elena, because their show is still running, and with each episode there is potential for shippy goodness!
1. Damon/Elena (Vampire Diaries)
2. Sawyer/Kate (LOST)
3. Buffy/Spike (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
4. Katniss/Peeta (Hunger Games)
5. Starbuck/Apollo (Battlestar Galactica)
6. Troy/Britta (Community)
Three ships you liked but don't like anymore:
7. Hermione/Ron (Harry Potter)
8. Buffy/Angel (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
9. Puck/Rachel (Glee)
Four ships you never liked:
10. Harry/Ginny (Harry Potter)
11. Jeff/Annie (Community)
12. Rory/Dean (Gilmore Girls)
13. Veronica/Duncan (Veronica Mars)
Two ships you're curious about but don't actually ship:
14. Echo/Paul (Dollhouse)
15. Wesley/Lilah (Angel)
Why do you dislike 11 so much?
(Jeff/Annie) Because I just don't like Annie herself. She's too peppy and falls back on indignation too often to be funny. Her schoolgirl crush on Jeff makes sense, but whenever he starts to return her advances...gag me.
Who is someone you know that ships 14?
(Echo/Paul) Oh no! I don't know...it's not that I'm curious because someone else likes them. I'm curious because the show ships them, and I've never been 100% for or against them.
What would be your ideal scenario for 3?
(Buffy/Spike) I actually have high hopes for them in canon. I've always loved their partnership...that Spike is ready to back up Buffy, and she defends him in return. From what I saw in the season 8 comics, that camaraderie was still there. Now that Buffy is feeling the weight of the apocolypse on her shoulders, I think the playing field is a little more even. Spike's been behaving with complete maturity while Buffy is the one regressing. Hopefully that means any "You're beneath me" crap is totally finished. On with season 9!
What is your favourite moment for 1?
(Damon/Elena) Definitely the Miss Mystic Falls day, when Stephan is all blood crazy and therefore out of the picture. Damon steps in when Elena needs someone, and then they do the dance where they never actually touch because it's all in the anticipation. WHICH IS WHAT THIS SHIP IS ALL ABOUT. I won't lie, that was the moment I pulled my knees to my chin and squealed like a 12-year-old fangirl, because that is what I am at heart.
How long have you been following 6?
(Troy/Britta) Only a month or two. Don't ask me why, but it was this scene that cemented my love for them as a pairing. So much comedic potential!
What's the story with 8? What made you stop liking/caring?
(Buffy/Angel) Well...Spike came along. For the first season, I was super intrigued by the idea that she fell in love with the guy she was supposed to be fighting against. But once Spike showed that you could also be AWESOME in the process, well, the answer was easy. Send Angel to his own show and give him Cordelia!
You have the power to make one ship nonexistent. Choose from 10 or 12.
(Harry/Ginny) or (Rory/Dean) Ahhh I don't know! Rory dumped Dean on her own. And then took him back for some adultery because wut?? But she dumped him again. Harry and Ginny never realized how awful their love story was. So I'll go with Harry/Ginny, for their own good.
Which ship do you prefer, 2 or 4?
(Sawyer/Kate) or (Katniss/Peeta) Hm. I did really like Sawyer's relationship with Kate through season 3 of LOST. But it lost a lot of momentum, then hinted at a reunion, then just pretended it never happened. Booo.
On the better hand, Katniss and Peeta have an actual love story in which they, you know, fall in love. They go through hell together, then try to make a better life with each other in the aftermath. And since Peeta is my fictional boyfriend of choice, I pretty much have to choose them.
What interests you about 15?
(Wesley/Lilah) They are so screwed up! And that generally means awesome in my book. I like that their relationship was mutually selfish in the beginning, but turned into actual (mostly unstated) affection by the end. Of course, it was then cut short by tragedy, but this is Joss Whedon we're talking about. The reason I'm on the curious side is that I was always a Wesley/Fred shipper, and I just really wanted him to get the girl he'd been pining after for years.
Why did you stop liking 7?
(Hermione/Ron) I liked their bickering relationship in the first few books. It was very much a childish way to express a crush, which made sense because they were kids. But as they grew up and their bickering turned into full out fights...I just sat back and grimaced. How is hitting and screaming and bitter disappointment a recipe for a healthy, long lasting relationship? It was at that point that I saw how Harry and Hermione stood as equals, encouraging and uplifting each other, both actual threats in the war against Voldemort...and I was sold. Give me a love based in friendship over a love based in anger ANY DAY. Of course, J.K. Rowling does not share my opinion.
Did your waning interest in 9 kill your interest in the show?
(Puck/Rachel) No, because the relationships on Glee are always transitory. I watch the show for the music and the jokes, not the plot. And anyway, we got Puck/Zizes out of the deal, which is so much fun!
What's a song that reminds you of 5?
(Starbuck/Apollo) Oh gosh. I'm going to cheat and look online...brb. OH! Definitely Bad Romance by Lady Gaga. They are so screwed up, and they bring out the best and especially the worst in each other.
If you could have any two of these pairings double date, who would it be?
Spike/Buffy and Katniss/Peeta. I think they would have a lot in common, what with the girls being shouldered with the responsibility of saving the world, and the guys happily supporting them.
Have 2 kissed yet?
(Sawyer/Kate) Yes. Also their show is done.
Did 4 have a happy ending? If the show hasn't ended yet, do you think a happy ending is likely?
(Katniss/Peeta) They ended up together, but it wasn't exactly happy....but it was perfect! Mockingjay supporters FTW!
What would make you start shipping 14?
(Echo/Paul) Probably a rewatch. Knowing how it ends might make me more invested in the rest.
If only one could happen, which would you prefer, 2 or 6?
(Sawyer/Kate or Troy/Britta) This is hard because LOST is done, and they didn't happen, while Community still is going strong, meaning there's a shot. But if I could change LOST, I would definitely put Sawyer and Kate together. Juliet was meant for Jack.
You have the power to decide the fate of 10. What happens to them?
(Harry/Ginny) If we pretend the epilogue doesn't exist (DONE), then I say after graduation, they slowly realize their relationship is built on nothing. Ginny yells at him for treating her like a trophy, ignoring her his seventh year. Harry realizes he just wanted her to be his mother-figure. They break up, avoid each other for a year, then start hanging out as friends when Harry dates Hermione, Ginny dates Neville, and Ron finds someone who didn't go to Hogwarts.
Which do you dislike the most?
(Veronica/Duncan) I can understand her dating the stereotypical cool guy when she was the stereotypical cool girl. But then the world crapped on her and she took all that pain to become awesome....she became so much better than him! He is boring! And he doesn't even know it! And then she dates awesome Logan, so you think she's learned her lesson, but no. Back to Duncan. Ugh, Veronica. What were you thinking?
Which of these ships do you like the most?
Obviously Buffy/Spike is my OTP. But I love Katniss/Peeta as a real relationship, mostly because I actually know that they end up together and live with PTSD forever after. But in terms of current emotional investment, I've got to go with Damon/Elena, because their show is still running, and with each episode there is potential for shippy goodness!
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Different Kinds of Kids
Some kids crack me up. At the LEGO club at the library, I told everyone to make some kind of robot. When they presented their creation to the rest of us, I asked what it was (because, like most LEGO creations, it was not immediately obvious).
One boy said he made a boat.
"A robot boat?" I asked.
"....Yeees. A robot boat!" And he therefore learned that you can BS your way through all educational experiences.
A couple minutes later a girl came forward. She had also made a boat.
"A robot boat?" I repeated.
"No." She looked at me like I was insane. "It's just a boat."
I love those kids.
It's the ones that refuse to stay in line and grab others people's stuff, then grin like that will get them out of trouble, that make me want to approach their parents and say, "Hi. Are you aware of the fact that your child is obnoxious? Kthxbai."
One boy said he made a boat.
"A robot boat?" I asked.
"....Yeees. A robot boat!" And he therefore learned that you can BS your way through all educational experiences.
A couple minutes later a girl came forward. She had also made a boat.
"A robot boat?" I repeated.
"No." She looked at me like I was insane. "It's just a boat."
I love those kids.
It's the ones that refuse to stay in line and grab others people's stuff, then grin like that will get them out of trouble, that make me want to approach their parents and say, "Hi. Are you aware of the fact that your child is obnoxious? Kthxbai."
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Seeing Myself, Six Months Ago
I found the blog of one of the Hands On girls who went to Senegal the semester after me. I got to live with her for a week in November, and I will always remember that one night when Liz and I had already gone to bed, she freaked out by Melanie's sudden appearance in the doorway and threw herself on us, butt in the air. Liz laughingly pointed out that she had incapacitated any of us from defending ourselves, but she was unapologetic in her flail.
Jesse is obviously a cool person. Her blog kind of breaks my heart, because she is dealing with all the emotions I was six months ago. Who am I kidding? They were still a big deal a couple months ago, and even today her words were quickly sending me back to American culture shock.
That is, until I started writing comments on her posts, trying to be encouraging. And I started writing awesome things that I didn't even know I knew until I wrote them! I love when that happens. One thing I wrote was this:
"God has a bigger heart for the nations than we could ever have, so trust that He'll send us where we're most needed."
And ugh. Apparently I know that, but I need to internalize it. Also I need to constantly remind myself that America is one of the nations he has a heart for. Whether I am in Peoria or Senegal or Mongolia or Japan or Antarctica....God has put me here, there, and everywhere for a reason. I can't waste time moaning about how I'd rather be somewhere else. I have to trust that He knows my passions and will take me to new and exciting countries when the time is right.
That is very smart and encouraging! But I realized something else from reading her blog. Jesse talked about loving teaching people about God for the first time. And that is it! That is why I am so easily discontented here at Woodland!
I mean, I love teaching the junior high girls and mentoring them as they start in their true realization of what following Jesus means. And I love leading the college Bible study, getting into books of the Bible that none of us are very familiar with, seeing God's love throughout all of history.
But there is a huge difference between teaching someone who has already heard it, and teaching someone who never knew that Jesus not only died but rose to life again. People who grow up in church are so easily jaded. I am so easily jaded! God sending rain to flood the whole earth but saving one family and all the adorable animals because He wasn't ready to give up just yet? That is AWESOME. But I react with a blase sense of been there, seen the flannelgraph.
I'm grateful that I was raised in the church. I fully believe that spending the first twenty years of my life saturated in the stories of God prepared me to serve Him at a young age. But it's hard to teach people who are where I was....a little interested, but more concerned with their hair or their boyfriends or their lack of boyfriends.
Give me people who ignore those stories or obviously change the subject any day. At least then I knew I was making progress. And granted, my attempts at talking about Jesus in Senegal were sporadic and chaotic at best. But I miss the feeling that I was doing something important, that I was telling Lamba and Mame Codou and Bigue things they might not hear from anyone else.
I guess this just puts me back to where I've been: confident that God is using me here, but ready to go back to the front lines whenever He thinks I'm ready. Which, granted, might be awhile (re: evangelizing chaos, above).
Jesse is obviously a cool person. Her blog kind of breaks my heart, because she is dealing with all the emotions I was six months ago. Who am I kidding? They were still a big deal a couple months ago, and even today her words were quickly sending me back to American culture shock.
That is, until I started writing comments on her posts, trying to be encouraging. And I started writing awesome things that I didn't even know I knew until I wrote them! I love when that happens. One thing I wrote was this:
"God has a bigger heart for the nations than we could ever have, so trust that He'll send us where we're most needed."
And ugh. Apparently I know that, but I need to internalize it. Also I need to constantly remind myself that America is one of the nations he has a heart for. Whether I am in Peoria or Senegal or Mongolia or Japan or Antarctica....God has put me here, there, and everywhere for a reason. I can't waste time moaning about how I'd rather be somewhere else. I have to trust that He knows my passions and will take me to new and exciting countries when the time is right.
That is very smart and encouraging! But I realized something else from reading her blog. Jesse talked about loving teaching people about God for the first time. And that is it! That is why I am so easily discontented here at Woodland!
I mean, I love teaching the junior high girls and mentoring them as they start in their true realization of what following Jesus means. And I love leading the college Bible study, getting into books of the Bible that none of us are very familiar with, seeing God's love throughout all of history.
But there is a huge difference between teaching someone who has already heard it, and teaching someone who never knew that Jesus not only died but rose to life again. People who grow up in church are so easily jaded. I am so easily jaded! God sending rain to flood the whole earth but saving one family and all the adorable animals because He wasn't ready to give up just yet? That is AWESOME. But I react with a blase sense of been there, seen the flannelgraph.
I'm grateful that I was raised in the church. I fully believe that spending the first twenty years of my life saturated in the stories of God prepared me to serve Him at a young age. But it's hard to teach people who are where I was....a little interested, but more concerned with their hair or their boyfriends or their lack of boyfriends.
Give me people who ignore those stories or obviously change the subject any day. At least then I knew I was making progress. And granted, my attempts at talking about Jesus in Senegal were sporadic and chaotic at best. But I miss the feeling that I was doing something important, that I was telling Lamba and Mame Codou and Bigue things they might not hear from anyone else.
I guess this just puts me back to where I've been: confident that God is using me here, but ready to go back to the front lines whenever He thinks I'm ready. Which, granted, might be awhile (re: evangelizing chaos, above).
Melengo
In high school, I signed up for a Compassion child on behalf of the youth group. People said they would help me, so I made a box and set it out so people could donate some money throughout the month. Only...most of the time no one did, and I was footing the bill. Funny how $32 seemed like so much at the time.
I ended up canceling my sponsorship, which was slightly traumatizing. But I got over it quickly, because the girl had never written to me, and I never really got the sense that she was a real person.
BUT for the past year or more, I've been writing back and forth to Melengo, my new sponsored child from Tanzania. He makes my heart melt, and then he cracks me up. I just got a letter from him today with a picture of him studiously bending over a notebook. In his letter, he said, "He says, he is happy for the way you love him. He says, he also loves you and others as how Jesus loved him." And on the back he drew a picture of a medicine cabinet! HAHAHA. With a bottle of magnesium and some peeling plaster labeled as such.
I love this kid. I'm so glad I can give him the money he needs to go to school even though I've never met him and probably never will. It's people like him that truly make me excited for heaven. Sure it would be nice to see the people I know for eternity, but I can live this life with them. I can't wait to spend eternity meeting people I only wrote letters with, or only heard about, or never knew existed at all!
Until then, Melengo.
I ended up canceling my sponsorship, which was slightly traumatizing. But I got over it quickly, because the girl had never written to me, and I never really got the sense that she was a real person.
BUT for the past year or more, I've been writing back and forth to Melengo, my new sponsored child from Tanzania. He makes my heart melt, and then he cracks me up. I just got a letter from him today with a picture of him studiously bending over a notebook. In his letter, he said, "He says, he is happy for the way you love him. He says, he also loves you and others as how Jesus loved him." And on the back he drew a picture of a medicine cabinet! HAHAHA. With a bottle of magnesium and some peeling plaster labeled as such.
I love this kid. I'm so glad I can give him the money he needs to go to school even though I've never met him and probably never will. It's people like him that truly make me excited for heaven. Sure it would be nice to see the people I know for eternity, but I can live this life with them. I can't wait to spend eternity meeting people I only wrote letters with, or only heard about, or never knew existed at all!
Until then, Melengo.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Old Friend
I had lunch with Michelle yesterday. She was one of my first school friends, and we stayed friendly through senior year. Obviously we were not BFFs because we've been living in our hometown for nine months now, and this is the first time we have hung out.
And it was so nice! She brought healthy stuff, and we sat on the floor of my office, talking and eating. She is so similar to me. We share the same childhood--the way we were/are spoiled, the way education was always easy, the way life didn't quite turn out as perfectly as our cookie cutter suburban upbringing promised. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed, because my Woodland friends all have nearly perfect families that they love nearly all the time and hang out with for fun.
It was a relief to talk to someone who is living with her parents for the free rent, but who is deeply unsettled by it. We commiserated about our privileged white girl pain the way I just can't with anyone else.
WONDERFUL.
We're hoping to make it a weekly thing. I need someone who understands me, the me that I don't like to share with other people.
And it was so nice! She brought healthy stuff, and we sat on the floor of my office, talking and eating. She is so similar to me. We share the same childhood--the way we were/are spoiled, the way education was always easy, the way life didn't quite turn out as perfectly as our cookie cutter suburban upbringing promised. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed, because my Woodland friends all have nearly perfect families that they love nearly all the time and hang out with for fun.
It was a relief to talk to someone who is living with her parents for the free rent, but who is deeply unsettled by it. We commiserated about our privileged white girl pain the way I just can't with anyone else.
WONDERFUL.
We're hoping to make it a weekly thing. I need someone who understands me, the me that I don't like to share with other people.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
My M.O.
Say there are two good things. Like Chicago and Istanbul. I love both of these cities! But more people will probably choose to go to Chicago than Istanbul, so automatically, I proclaim my love of Istanbul loud and proud. It doesn't lessen my love of Chicago. But you probably won't hear me talk about it much.
What I mean is, I root for the underdog. Whether the giant is good or bad, I want more people to pay attention to the little guy.
This habit tends to get me in trouble, because people think I am talking in black and white. Not so!
When I say people should sell all their stuff, I know this is not the only way to please God. I can even think of two families who use their wealth to serve God. But! Most people want to be wealthy. Not many people are pursuing a life of poverty, and so that is the good side that I am backing.
When I say people should be missionaries overseas, I know this is not the only way to expand God's kingdom. But it is far more common for people to stay in America than to go to the largely unreached and desperately needy world. So I talk about overseas missions, because I want to tip the balance a little.
When I say I love other countries more than America, I'm not saying America is bad. There are some wonderful things about this country! But most people love America, and a lot of them diss other countries by default (America is the best=everyone else is inferior). So even though America is lovely in many ways, I will stand behind Greece and Turkey and Senegal and Germany and say that I love them more.
I've always gone for the weird and unique. Doesn't mean the normal is bad. I just want more people to be outliers. Unfortunately, my underdog thinking and my tendency to hyperbolize can get me in trouble. Hopefully no longer, since I have explained myself!
But probably that is not the case. Sharing thoughts with the interwebs is pretty much asking for people to disagree with you. I guess I'm asking for it.
What I mean is, I root for the underdog. Whether the giant is good or bad, I want more people to pay attention to the little guy.
This habit tends to get me in trouble, because people think I am talking in black and white. Not so!
When I say people should sell all their stuff, I know this is not the only way to please God. I can even think of two families who use their wealth to serve God. But! Most people want to be wealthy. Not many people are pursuing a life of poverty, and so that is the good side that I am backing.
When I say people should be missionaries overseas, I know this is not the only way to expand God's kingdom. But it is far more common for people to stay in America than to go to the largely unreached and desperately needy world. So I talk about overseas missions, because I want to tip the balance a little.
When I say I love other countries more than America, I'm not saying America is bad. There are some wonderful things about this country! But most people love America, and a lot of them diss other countries by default (America is the best=everyone else is inferior). So even though America is lovely in many ways, I will stand behind Greece and Turkey and Senegal and Germany and say that I love them more.
I've always gone for the weird and unique. Doesn't mean the normal is bad. I just want more people to be outliers. Unfortunately, my underdog thinking and my tendency to hyperbolize can get me in trouble. Hopefully no longer, since I have explained myself!
But probably that is not the case. Sharing thoughts with the interwebs is pretty much asking for people to disagree with you. I guess I'm asking for it.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
I Don't Fit Into Peoria
I went to the Monahan's last week, and we spent two hours listening to their 70s rock music and 90s Christian music. Then I went to the Wineinger's this week, and we sang country songs.
None of these things are exactly me, even though I had a hilarious time both nights.
I want people to like Mumford and Sons! And Fun! And Freelance Whales! And Ingrid Michaelson! I want to dance around to Mika and La Roux!
And most of all, I want to watch Buffy with someone who will analyze and cry and laugh and make intellectual comments on the feminism and the philosophy and the relationships. I watched a bunch of Buffy fanvids, and had no one to share them with. Where is Whitney or Liz? Sad day.
Now I understand why people make their friends on the interwebs. But I am too shy.
None of these things are exactly me, even though I had a hilarious time both nights.
I want people to like Mumford and Sons! And Fun! And Freelance Whales! And Ingrid Michaelson! I want to dance around to Mika and La Roux!
And most of all, I want to watch Buffy with someone who will analyze and cry and laugh and make intellectual comments on the feminism and the philosophy and the relationships. I watched a bunch of Buffy fanvids, and had no one to share them with. Where is Whitney or Liz? Sad day.
Now I understand why people make their friends on the interwebs. But I am too shy.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Threads and Connections and Theology?
Life is such a weird thing. I live my day, and everything I do affects everyone around me. Everything they do affects me. My choices open or close future possibilities. I am responsible for my actions, but maybe I would react differently if certain things had or had not happened. And everyone else is responsible for their actions, but if I'd been kinder or more patient or had simply paid attention, maybe they would act differently.
I think in heaven we will get to see the string of our life, and how it gets tangled up in others, or how tangling it might have helped someone else. I think we'll see all the different possible endings. Actually, I don't think these things will happen; I just hope so. I want to look at my life and say, "Yeah, I could have done that or should have said this, but overall, I did okay."
Sometimes I wonder how important my relationship with God is. It's been a week since I worked on memorizing Scripture. I've prayed here and read random Scripture there, but nothing intentional or devoted. It doesn't seem like a big deal, until I wonder, what if talking to God last night would have caused me to say something to this person, who would have been encouraged to do this, which winds up affecting someone I don't even know? Or what if I learned the next section of James, and it applied to my day, and I had the right attitude instead of the wrong one?
I wonder how many bad things I could avoid, or how many good things I could find, if only I maintained a consistent and continuous relationship with the God who teaches me how to be good.
Mumford and Sons is my favorite group, because their lyrics tend to fly out of the stereo and get stuck in my soul. One of the first to smack me upside the head was this: "If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy, I could have won."
I can seek after God when I am soaring with joy or am crippled with depression. But when I don't care, when I think it doesn't matter--that is when I miss out. And who knows how many other people miss out as a result?
I think in heaven we will get to see the string of our life, and how it gets tangled up in others, or how tangling it might have helped someone else. I think we'll see all the different possible endings. Actually, I don't think these things will happen; I just hope so. I want to look at my life and say, "Yeah, I could have done that or should have said this, but overall, I did okay."
Sometimes I wonder how important my relationship with God is. It's been a week since I worked on memorizing Scripture. I've prayed here and read random Scripture there, but nothing intentional or devoted. It doesn't seem like a big deal, until I wonder, what if talking to God last night would have caused me to say something to this person, who would have been encouraged to do this, which winds up affecting someone I don't even know? Or what if I learned the next section of James, and it applied to my day, and I had the right attitude instead of the wrong one?
I wonder how many bad things I could avoid, or how many good things I could find, if only I maintained a consistent and continuous relationship with the God who teaches me how to be good.
Mumford and Sons is my favorite group, because their lyrics tend to fly out of the stereo and get stuck in my soul. One of the first to smack me upside the head was this: "If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy, I could have won."
I can seek after God when I am soaring with joy or am crippled with depression. But when I don't care, when I think it doesn't matter--that is when I miss out. And who knows how many other people miss out as a result?
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Am I Weird?
It has come to my attention that I am not good at planning. This was something of a shock, because I've always thought I was detail-oriented and a small thinker, and also very organized. The process of my world being rocked started several months ago when I talked to Chris on the phone.
We were only close for maybe a month, but he is the sort of person who sees into your soul and then talks about it like everything is very obvious. So I told him about working at the library, and how I enjoyed planning programs (see, the planning!). But he said, "That makes sense. You're good at ideas." And I was all, "OMGWTF? I need to hang up and think about what you just said."
I have always wanted to be an idea person! But never ever have I considered myself one. I thought Chris was just losing his touch.
Then I went to Senegal in November with some very planning-oriented women. And they kept saying things like, "I know you think this will just work, but really we should weigh the bags twenty times." And compared to their over-planning, I realized that yes, I do assume that things will fall into place without much forethought.
But the kicker came when my junior high girls decided to do a craft sale to raise money for a missionary family. I came up with the broad plans, and was ready to settle back and enjoy the ride. Then someone said, "Should we put something in the bulletin?"
"Oh. Yeah, that would be good."
"How about asking people to donate stuff?"
"...That makes sense."
"And maybe there should be posters so people know about it?"
"Yes. Posters are good."
And that's when I knew: I don't plan things! I am not the person who gets things done! I am the person who starts things. WHAT?! This changes everything I've ever thought about myself. The truth is that I have been lucky enough throughout my life to be surrounded by people who pick up my idea and make it happen, or remind of what needs to be done to make it happen. On my own, I would be a sad little girl sitting on the floor surrounded by piles of papers with awesome, unfinished ideas written on them.
Epilogue
In my defense, I do plan for some things. They just tend to be weird things that no one cares about.
When I found out I was going to Senegal, I immediately knew I had to grow out my bangs. I mean, screw spiritual preparation or buying necessary supplies. I had to grow out my bangs! That was obviously the most important thing in which I could invest my time.
Yesterday and today, I restarted p90x. One reason for this makes sense. I want to be strong when I go to Mongolia so I can do stuff and not die. But the main reason is this: I have always said I want to marry someone younger than me. (Because women live, on average, five years longer than men. If I marry someone five years younger than me, there is a better chance we could die at the same time! You know, ignoring all those early death possibilities.) Only recently did it hit me that....I am aging. And if I really am going to marry someone younger than me, I don't want to be all flabby and lazy. So obviously, the way to plan for marriage is p90x.
My powers of planning are saved for the very important things in life, as you can plainly see.
We were only close for maybe a month, but he is the sort of person who sees into your soul and then talks about it like everything is very obvious. So I told him about working at the library, and how I enjoyed planning programs (see, the planning!). But he said, "That makes sense. You're good at ideas." And I was all, "OMGWTF? I need to hang up and think about what you just said."
I have always wanted to be an idea person! But never ever have I considered myself one. I thought Chris was just losing his touch.
Then I went to Senegal in November with some very planning-oriented women. And they kept saying things like, "I know you think this will just work, but really we should weigh the bags twenty times." And compared to their over-planning, I realized that yes, I do assume that things will fall into place without much forethought.
But the kicker came when my junior high girls decided to do a craft sale to raise money for a missionary family. I came up with the broad plans, and was ready to settle back and enjoy the ride. Then someone said, "Should we put something in the bulletin?"
"Oh. Yeah, that would be good."
"How about asking people to donate stuff?"
"...That makes sense."
"And maybe there should be posters so people know about it?"
"Yes. Posters are good."
And that's when I knew: I don't plan things! I am not the person who gets things done! I am the person who starts things. WHAT?! This changes everything I've ever thought about myself. The truth is that I have been lucky enough throughout my life to be surrounded by people who pick up my idea and make it happen, or remind of what needs to be done to make it happen. On my own, I would be a sad little girl sitting on the floor surrounded by piles of papers with awesome, unfinished ideas written on them.
Epilogue
In my defense, I do plan for some things. They just tend to be weird things that no one cares about.
When I found out I was going to Senegal, I immediately knew I had to grow out my bangs. I mean, screw spiritual preparation or buying necessary supplies. I had to grow out my bangs! That was obviously the most important thing in which I could invest my time.
Yesterday and today, I restarted p90x. One reason for this makes sense. I want to be strong when I go to Mongolia so I can do stuff and not die. But the main reason is this: I have always said I want to marry someone younger than me. (Because women live, on average, five years longer than men. If I marry someone five years younger than me, there is a better chance we could die at the same time! You know, ignoring all those early death possibilities.) Only recently did it hit me that....I am aging. And if I really am going to marry someone younger than me, I don't want to be all flabby and lazy. So obviously, the way to plan for marriage is p90x.
My powers of planning are saved for the very important things in life, as you can plainly see.
Feminism in Vampire Stories!
Hahaha Vampire Diaries just makes me fist pump the air every episode. It's like it is determined to show how stupid Twilight is. Take episode 10:
Stefan: I must leave you. It is for your safety!
Tricia: AUGH. Stoppit with the drama! Everyone knows you're going to come back, so that doesn't work. And if Elena keeps telling you to stay anyway, then you are just being a chauvinistic pig who thinks he knows everything and the little ladyfolk only runs on her emotions!
Elena: No. I have already made my wishes perfectly clear. If you are going to leave, then it is because you want to. Your leaving is selfish; it's not for me.
Tricia: FISTPUMP to the max.
Stefan and Elena: *smooch*
Tricia: Awww.
Also I'm a total sucker for those scenes with the vampire is all vamp-face and ashamed, but his love looks him in the demon-face and kisses him anyway. If that is not a perfect picture of unconditional love, I don't know what is.
Stefan: I must leave you. It is for your safety!
Tricia: AUGH. Stoppit with the drama! Everyone knows you're going to come back, so that doesn't work. And if Elena keeps telling you to stay anyway, then you are just being a chauvinistic pig who thinks he knows everything and the little ladyfolk only runs on her emotions!
Elena: No. I have already made my wishes perfectly clear. If you are going to leave, then it is because you want to. Your leaving is selfish; it's not for me.
Tricia: FISTPUMP to the max.
Stefan and Elena: *smooch*
Tricia: Awww.
Also I'm a total sucker for those scenes with the vampire is all vamp-face and ashamed, but his love looks him in the demon-face and kisses him anyway. If that is not a perfect picture of unconditional love, I don't know what is.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Buffy vs. TVD vs. Twilight
Okay, so I can't really deny anymore that I tend to love vampire stories. And there's nothing wrong with that except for the screaming fans who make it seem like romantic drivel. Not so! What I love about vampire stories is the way vampirism shows the human condition a new light--something which all fantasy, when done well, should do.
I love that vampires are eternal. That gives them loads of time to suffer and repent and experience life. Also it provides for interesting history lessons! But mostly I love that vampires have this huge horrible urge, a secret they must keep if they ever want to find love and acceptance. That means there are two awesome story lines available--1) making up for past sins in an attempt to stumble toward redemption and 2) revealing your secret in a moment of intimacy that will cause relational earthquakes of all kinds.
These are things with which all people who have ever done something they regret can empathize. So, all people. The cover of vampirism just makes it all bigger and more dramatic.
So. I've been a fan of three different TV shows/books about vampires. How do they compare?
Obviously, Buffy is the best! That is because it plays the vampire thing with humor, and lets the drama come from the human failings that fall out. I love that whenever people find out that there are mystical horrors going on, they are always very laid back. "Oh, that's why we have so many mysterious deaths in Sunnydale!" The show isn't about the mystery of vampires--that's all tongue in cheek. What the show does wonderfully is play on the metaphors behind the mystical creatures. And the drama and heartache is when we see how those metaphors are manifesting in the Scoobies and affecting their lives.
I've only watched the first six episodes of The Vampire Diaries, but the vampire reveal has already happened, so I will discuss. Even though this show is light on the comedy and heavy on the drama (hence, second place), I liked how Elena reacted when she found out her boyfriend was a vampire. She FREAKED OUT. As it should be. She was scared for her life, and she didn't trust him. I don't care if you have a crush on a guy and he's cute...finding out he is a creature of myth is terrifying! She gave him a day to explain himself, then dumped him. Even though I'm sure they'll get back together, because duh, I really liked the instant terror. Much more realistic than--
Twilight. One of my deepest shames is that I truly loved those books. And yeah, they are romantic crack, but there is so much stupid in them that I must have willfully closed my eyes. While Elena is all "GET OUT STEFAN YOU ARE CREEPY RIGHT NOW," Bella's reaction is totally different. She finds out Edward is a vampire and is all, "Oh, well that's okay." He even goes on and on about how dangerous he is, and how he's killed people, but she just says, "lolz, but I love you!" UGH. Love does not overcome murder. Not right away. That has to be earned, and by completely trampling over that "reveal big secret to the person you love and deal with the fallout" Stephanie Meyer just ruined any chance at drama or metaphor. Unless it's your personal experience to say "Hello, I'm the most horrible thing you can imagine" and have someone respond, "Cool!"
Yay Buffy, intrigued by TVD, boo Twilight.
I love that vampires are eternal. That gives them loads of time to suffer and repent and experience life. Also it provides for interesting history lessons! But mostly I love that vampires have this huge horrible urge, a secret they must keep if they ever want to find love and acceptance. That means there are two awesome story lines available--1) making up for past sins in an attempt to stumble toward redemption and 2) revealing your secret in a moment of intimacy that will cause relational earthquakes of all kinds.
These are things with which all people who have ever done something they regret can empathize. So, all people. The cover of vampirism just makes it all bigger and more dramatic.
So. I've been a fan of three different TV shows/books about vampires. How do they compare?
Obviously, Buffy is the best! That is because it plays the vampire thing with humor, and lets the drama come from the human failings that fall out. I love that whenever people find out that there are mystical horrors going on, they are always very laid back. "Oh, that's why we have so many mysterious deaths in Sunnydale!" The show isn't about the mystery of vampires--that's all tongue in cheek. What the show does wonderfully is play on the metaphors behind the mystical creatures. And the drama and heartache is when we see how those metaphors are manifesting in the Scoobies and affecting their lives.
I've only watched the first six episodes of The Vampire Diaries, but the vampire reveal has already happened, so I will discuss. Even though this show is light on the comedy and heavy on the drama (hence, second place), I liked how Elena reacted when she found out her boyfriend was a vampire. She FREAKED OUT. As it should be. She was scared for her life, and she didn't trust him. I don't care if you have a crush on a guy and he's cute...finding out he is a creature of myth is terrifying! She gave him a day to explain himself, then dumped him. Even though I'm sure they'll get back together, because duh, I really liked the instant terror. Much more realistic than--
Twilight. One of my deepest shames is that I truly loved those books. And yeah, they are romantic crack, but there is so much stupid in them that I must have willfully closed my eyes. While Elena is all "GET OUT STEFAN YOU ARE CREEPY RIGHT NOW," Bella's reaction is totally different. She finds out Edward is a vampire and is all, "Oh, well that's okay." He even goes on and on about how dangerous he is, and how he's killed people, but she just says, "lolz, but I love you!" UGH. Love does not overcome murder. Not right away. That has to be earned, and by completely trampling over that "reveal big secret to the person you love and deal with the fallout" Stephanie Meyer just ruined any chance at drama or metaphor. Unless it's your personal experience to say "Hello, I'm the most horrible thing you can imagine" and have someone respond, "Cool!"
Yay Buffy, intrigued by TVD, boo Twilight.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Language Learning
I am trying to learn Mongolian, but all I have is a phrasebook. Nothing to listen to and compare.
It sounds like German, and nothing like how Gany and Sarango spoke. That could end up a problem.
It sounds like German, and nothing like how Gany and Sarango spoke. That could end up a problem.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Emergency Room Memory
It was a night of awesome, and we weren't ready for it to be over. After a GO Trip reunion party followed by the coffee house debut of Kevin and Cameron's song "Hedgie," we had to find something else to do.
"Let's play outside!"
"Yeah, alright. We could go to North Park."
I don't even know who came up with that idea, because my nerdy instinct obliterated all but this thought, "We can't go there when it's closed!"
Of course, to North Park we went. Kathryn ended up driving, which was stupid, because she owns a Mini Cooper. She and Bruce lounged comfortably in the front seats. Stephanie, Kevin, and Erin sat hip to hip in the back, and I sat somewhere on top of and in between Stephanie and Kevin.
Kathryn's iPod turned classic pop, and we all screamed along with Cascada. "Cuz every time we touch I get this feeling, and every time we kiss I reach for the sky!" Stephanie's arms pumped past my ears. Kevin thrashed his head wildly from side to side. I tried to do a little headbanging, but I smashed the top of my skull against the roof, and Kevin complained that my dancing was digging my knees into his thigh.
When we got to the North Park barrier, a pathetic metal turnstile, Kathryn parked the Mini Cooper. We hopped the gate and ran toward the playground equipment, whooping and laughing like five-year-olds.
Like all good playground outings, we ended up at the swings. Stephanie sang, and we all tried to swing higher than gravitationally possible. Kathryn was the first to lightly jump from her swing to the ground. Stephanie quickly copied her, and then it was just Kevin and me. He let out a warcry and launched into the air. It was awesome, and then I was the last one. I had to make it good.
I pumped my legs harder at my friends' encouragement, and when I reached the apex of my swing, I hesitated just a split second before letting go and flying into the night. I knew in mid-air that it had gone wrong. As some kind of last ditch attempt to reverse the jump, I twisted to face the swing set as I fell. Probably I wanted to grab the chains and sit back down, but that wasn't going to happen.
My left foot hit the ground, and my back instantly followed. I lay on woodchips, gasping for air. I was laughing uncontrollably, which didn't work so well when I had just had the wind knocked out of me. Kevin yelled from the side, "That was EPIC!" and Stephanie and Kimberly crouched beside me, laughing and hitting my shoulder.
Kathryn called, "Look! A frog!" and they left me for the green amphibian. I wanted to see it myself, but my body preferred to stay lying down. After a couple minutes, Erin returned and said, "Are you okay?"
"....I don't think I can move. Haha!" I answered. Trying to contradict myself, I pushed onto my elbows so that my head was a whole twelve inches off the ground. This proved to be too difficult, so I went back to being horizontal.
My other friends had finally left the frog and realized something was wrong with me. "Whoa, are you alright?" Stephanie asked.
"Hahaha! No." My immobility was turning me hysterical.
Stephanie and Kevin pulled me to my feet, and the movement sent a rush of pain down my spine. "I think my back is broken, hahaha, oh no, help me." They pretty much dragged me to a nearby park bench, and I collapsed on it.
"I'm totally fine now. I just need to rest. You guys go play!" I had landed in an awkward sitting position, but just the thought of moving caused my stomach to roll with nausea. Kimberly and Kathryn obliged, and chased each other across a bouncy bridge. Stephanie and Kevin sat on either side of me, telling stories of their day while looking at me from the worried corners of their eyes. I tried to smile and look healthy, but I was pretty sure I was slowly becoming paralyzed.
Stephanie stopped being distracting and said, "You should go to the hospital."
"What?!" Kimberly and Kathryn said. They felt bad for playing during my state of invalidism.
I protested, but when Stephanie ordered me to stand up on my own, I could only stare at her with puppy eyes.
"But all we have is Kathryn's Mini Cooper," Erin pointed out.
The thought of twisting in on myself like before nearly brought me to tears.
"We'll take Stephen's car!" Kimberly had come separately with her boyfriend. I don't know where he had been during the rest of the drama. I had never met Stephen before, and I didn't want to force him to take me to the hospital. It wasn't until Stephanie said, "It'll be another party!" and everyone genuinely agreed, that I consented.
"To the emergency room!"
The cars were stuck behind the gate, so Stephen and Kevin acted as my crutches. I hobbled along as best I could, and by the time we got to Stephen's SUV, I was longingly anticipating the cushioned backseat. My car companions sang as we drove. I was too busy contemplating all the ways my body could be broken to sing along, but I did crack a smile when Kathryn's Mini Cooper passed us and the rest of my friends stared through the windows at me with exaggerated sad faces.
Kevin grabbed a wheelchair from outside the emergency room, and I was slowly lowered into it. He ran through the sliding doors, and I had a brief but terrifying feeling that I was a pregnant woman on her way to delivery. Suddenly the inability to stand up didn't seem so bad.
Paperwork was filed, and we took up a whole row of plastic seats. Kevin and Erin stayed with me while the rest went back to school. Stephanie was going to get supplies to last the night, and I was promised a strawberry slushie. I called my mom and excitedly told her that I was in the emergency room for the first time. I tried to reach my roommates, but neither of them picked up their phones or returned my texts. I was about to lapse into self-pity when Kevin said, "Hey, your new roommate might be right here with you already." Erin smiled shyly at me, and I was suddenly so glad that we had filed to room together off campus in the fall.
I was called in for consultation, and I stupidly told the nurse that my pain was a five sitting down, because at the moment it was. My honesty put me to the bottom of the needy list, and I was returned to the waiting room. Naturally, after sitting still for ten minutes, the pain was back to a nine, but it was too late to tell anyone that. The rest of my friends returned, and we gathered around Stephanie's laptop to watch LOST and Chuck. We were the envy of the emergency room, I was sure.
It was one in the morning when people started fidgeting. I assured them that they could go. Stephanie had volunteered to stay with me, and Kevin unexpectedly announced that he was staying too. The three of us talked and watched Chuck for the next two hours. After each show my back felt like it was on fire from sitting still so long. My human crutches walked me down the hallway. It felt wonderful to move my muscles for the first four or five steps, but by the time we reached the end of the hallway, the walk back seemed designed to be torture.
Inevitably, I had to go to the bathroom. They both took me to the door, but only Stephanie helped me to the stall. When I was locked inside, I was faced with the daunting task of sitting down. I half fell, half lowered myself to the toilet, and I immediately knew I wasn't going to get up again. I cried in frustration, because what if I needed someone to take me to the bathroom for the rest of my life?
In a production that would have impressed a contortionist, I managed to get all my clothes back on. I threw myself from side to side of the stall, leaning heavily for support. When I opened the door, Stephanie's sad face was staring at me. I panted, smiling at my success. Then she basically carried me back to the waiting room.
It was four in the morning before I was taken to a private room. A doctor came in, poked me a bit, and asked questions.
"When was your last period?"
What? How was that relevant? Pointedly not looking at Kevin, I answered. Stephanie snickered. The doctor poked me and moved me a little bit more, then went out in search of a ready x-ray machine.
It took forty-five more minutes (during which time we played "Would You Rather?") before he came back and said there'd been a car accident. The x-ray machine was needed, so they were just going to give me pain medication and send me on my way. He got out a needle and said, "Now if you would just pull down your pants..."
I stared desperately at Stephanie and Kevin, who said, "Um, we'll just step outside."
When the doctor left and my friends returned, Kevin gleefully told my bright red face, "You got a shot in the butt!"
I was loaded into a wheelchair again, and they maneuvered me into Stephanie's car, which she had picked up at school earlier that night. Kevin's bike was at my dorm room, so we all got out there. Since it was five in the morning, my roommates were silent inside their bedrooms. My human crutches helped me to my room. Kevin hugged me, told me to call him the next day, and left.
Stephanie went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and I tried to change into pajamas. I managed to drop my pants, and then I discovered that lifting my right foot put too much pressure on my left. And lifting my left foot was just impossible.
"Stephanie?" I cried plaintively. She poked her head around the door and burst out laughing. Like a true friend, she let me lean on her while she picked up each of my feet and extricated my jeans. Then she dug a pair of pajama pants from my drawer and put them on me. "Thanks, mom," I said.
I clung to the wall as I hobbled to my bed. I flopped toward the wall, and after a few minutes, Stephanie climbed in with her head at my feet. She patted them, and said, "Sleep well! See you in three hours when I go to class!"
That didn't happen. The drugs I'd been given kicked in, and I never even knew she got up and left.
"Let's play outside!"
"Yeah, alright. We could go to North Park."
I don't even know who came up with that idea, because my nerdy instinct obliterated all but this thought, "We can't go there when it's closed!"
Of course, to North Park we went. Kathryn ended up driving, which was stupid, because she owns a Mini Cooper. She and Bruce lounged comfortably in the front seats. Stephanie, Kevin, and Erin sat hip to hip in the back, and I sat somewhere on top of and in between Stephanie and Kevin.
Kathryn's iPod turned classic pop, and we all screamed along with Cascada. "Cuz every time we touch I get this feeling, and every time we kiss I reach for the sky!" Stephanie's arms pumped past my ears. Kevin thrashed his head wildly from side to side. I tried to do a little headbanging, but I smashed the top of my skull against the roof, and Kevin complained that my dancing was digging my knees into his thigh.
When we got to the North Park barrier, a pathetic metal turnstile, Kathryn parked the Mini Cooper. We hopped the gate and ran toward the playground equipment, whooping and laughing like five-year-olds.
Like all good playground outings, we ended up at the swings. Stephanie sang, and we all tried to swing higher than gravitationally possible. Kathryn was the first to lightly jump from her swing to the ground. Stephanie quickly copied her, and then it was just Kevin and me. He let out a warcry and launched into the air. It was awesome, and then I was the last one. I had to make it good.
I pumped my legs harder at my friends' encouragement, and when I reached the apex of my swing, I hesitated just a split second before letting go and flying into the night. I knew in mid-air that it had gone wrong. As some kind of last ditch attempt to reverse the jump, I twisted to face the swing set as I fell. Probably I wanted to grab the chains and sit back down, but that wasn't going to happen.
My left foot hit the ground, and my back instantly followed. I lay on woodchips, gasping for air. I was laughing uncontrollably, which didn't work so well when I had just had the wind knocked out of me. Kevin yelled from the side, "That was EPIC!" and Stephanie and Kimberly crouched beside me, laughing and hitting my shoulder.
Kathryn called, "Look! A frog!" and they left me for the green amphibian. I wanted to see it myself, but my body preferred to stay lying down. After a couple minutes, Erin returned and said, "Are you okay?"
"....I don't think I can move. Haha!" I answered. Trying to contradict myself, I pushed onto my elbows so that my head was a whole twelve inches off the ground. This proved to be too difficult, so I went back to being horizontal.
My other friends had finally left the frog and realized something was wrong with me. "Whoa, are you alright?" Stephanie asked.
"Hahaha! No." My immobility was turning me hysterical.
Stephanie and Kevin pulled me to my feet, and the movement sent a rush of pain down my spine. "I think my back is broken, hahaha, oh no, help me." They pretty much dragged me to a nearby park bench, and I collapsed on it.
"I'm totally fine now. I just need to rest. You guys go play!" I had landed in an awkward sitting position, but just the thought of moving caused my stomach to roll with nausea. Kimberly and Kathryn obliged, and chased each other across a bouncy bridge. Stephanie and Kevin sat on either side of me, telling stories of their day while looking at me from the worried corners of their eyes. I tried to smile and look healthy, but I was pretty sure I was slowly becoming paralyzed.
Stephanie stopped being distracting and said, "You should go to the hospital."
"What?!" Kimberly and Kathryn said. They felt bad for playing during my state of invalidism.
I protested, but when Stephanie ordered me to stand up on my own, I could only stare at her with puppy eyes.
"But all we have is Kathryn's Mini Cooper," Erin pointed out.
The thought of twisting in on myself like before nearly brought me to tears.
"We'll take Stephen's car!" Kimberly had come separately with her boyfriend. I don't know where he had been during the rest of the drama. I had never met Stephen before, and I didn't want to force him to take me to the hospital. It wasn't until Stephanie said, "It'll be another party!" and everyone genuinely agreed, that I consented.
"To the emergency room!"
The cars were stuck behind the gate, so Stephen and Kevin acted as my crutches. I hobbled along as best I could, and by the time we got to Stephen's SUV, I was longingly anticipating the cushioned backseat. My car companions sang as we drove. I was too busy contemplating all the ways my body could be broken to sing along, but I did crack a smile when Kathryn's Mini Cooper passed us and the rest of my friends stared through the windows at me with exaggerated sad faces.
Kevin grabbed a wheelchair from outside the emergency room, and I was slowly lowered into it. He ran through the sliding doors, and I had a brief but terrifying feeling that I was a pregnant woman on her way to delivery. Suddenly the inability to stand up didn't seem so bad.
Paperwork was filed, and we took up a whole row of plastic seats. Kevin and Erin stayed with me while the rest went back to school. Stephanie was going to get supplies to last the night, and I was promised a strawberry slushie. I called my mom and excitedly told her that I was in the emergency room for the first time. I tried to reach my roommates, but neither of them picked up their phones or returned my texts. I was about to lapse into self-pity when Kevin said, "Hey, your new roommate might be right here with you already." Erin smiled shyly at me, and I was suddenly so glad that we had filed to room together off campus in the fall.
I was called in for consultation, and I stupidly told the nurse that my pain was a five sitting down, because at the moment it was. My honesty put me to the bottom of the needy list, and I was returned to the waiting room. Naturally, after sitting still for ten minutes, the pain was back to a nine, but it was too late to tell anyone that. The rest of my friends returned, and we gathered around Stephanie's laptop to watch LOST and Chuck. We were the envy of the emergency room, I was sure.
It was one in the morning when people started fidgeting. I assured them that they could go. Stephanie had volunteered to stay with me, and Kevin unexpectedly announced that he was staying too. The three of us talked and watched Chuck for the next two hours. After each show my back felt like it was on fire from sitting still so long. My human crutches walked me down the hallway. It felt wonderful to move my muscles for the first four or five steps, but by the time we reached the end of the hallway, the walk back seemed designed to be torture.
Inevitably, I had to go to the bathroom. They both took me to the door, but only Stephanie helped me to the stall. When I was locked inside, I was faced with the daunting task of sitting down. I half fell, half lowered myself to the toilet, and I immediately knew I wasn't going to get up again. I cried in frustration, because what if I needed someone to take me to the bathroom for the rest of my life?
In a production that would have impressed a contortionist, I managed to get all my clothes back on. I threw myself from side to side of the stall, leaning heavily for support. When I opened the door, Stephanie's sad face was staring at me. I panted, smiling at my success. Then she basically carried me back to the waiting room.
It was four in the morning before I was taken to a private room. A doctor came in, poked me a bit, and asked questions.
"When was your last period?"
What? How was that relevant? Pointedly not looking at Kevin, I answered. Stephanie snickered. The doctor poked me and moved me a little bit more, then went out in search of a ready x-ray machine.
It took forty-five more minutes (during which time we played "Would You Rather?") before he came back and said there'd been a car accident. The x-ray machine was needed, so they were just going to give me pain medication and send me on my way. He got out a needle and said, "Now if you would just pull down your pants..."
I stared desperately at Stephanie and Kevin, who said, "Um, we'll just step outside."
When the doctor left and my friends returned, Kevin gleefully told my bright red face, "You got a shot in the butt!"
I was loaded into a wheelchair again, and they maneuvered me into Stephanie's car, which she had picked up at school earlier that night. Kevin's bike was at my dorm room, so we all got out there. Since it was five in the morning, my roommates were silent inside their bedrooms. My human crutches helped me to my room. Kevin hugged me, told me to call him the next day, and left.
Stephanie went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and I tried to change into pajamas. I managed to drop my pants, and then I discovered that lifting my right foot put too much pressure on my left. And lifting my left foot was just impossible.
"Stephanie?" I cried plaintively. She poked her head around the door and burst out laughing. Like a true friend, she let me lean on her while she picked up each of my feet and extricated my jeans. Then she dug a pair of pajama pants from my drawer and put them on me. "Thanks, mom," I said.
I clung to the wall as I hobbled to my bed. I flopped toward the wall, and after a few minutes, Stephanie climbed in with her head at my feet. She patted them, and said, "Sleep well! See you in three hours when I go to class!"
That didn't happen. The drugs I'd been given kicked in, and I never even knew she got up and left.
Blog Overhaul
Oh, this is so pretty, no?
Change of picture, change of title. I am a fan of change! Except when it comes to the location of my cutlery, I guess.
Thoughts?
Change of picture, change of title. I am a fan of change! Except when it comes to the location of my cutlery, I guess.
Thoughts?
Twitterpated Stupidity
I have this intense love/hate relationship with hot, friendly guys. Love, because obvs, they are awesome. But hate because they turn me into a big puddle of stupid. David the Magician (from earlier embarrassing story) called the library this morning, and was all "how do you pronounce Chillicothe?" "are you having a good day?" "see you at the show!"
And I was all "Bleerghisdfhsd?"
No, I like to think I was pretty poised and confident. But for realsies, friendly hot guys need to advertise their availability. I always assume friendly=interested (because I have a huge ego) and then I am inevitably disappointed, because why wouldn't a hot friendly guy already be taken?
Eh, that's not even the problem. I think I would be flustered whether he was single or not. A hot magician! It's NPH! How can I not be stupid?
And I was all "Bleerghisdfhsd?"
No, I like to think I was pretty poised and confident. But for realsies, friendly hot guys need to advertise their availability. I always assume friendly=interested (because I have a huge ego) and then I am inevitably disappointed, because why wouldn't a hot friendly guy already be taken?
Eh, that's not even the problem. I think I would be flustered whether he was single or not. A hot magician! It's NPH! How can I not be stupid?
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