Today was the first day of Summer Reading. And I made a new friend! A friend who works at the SRP table with me for eight hours every day, which is the best kind of friend, if you ask me. Not only that, but she is my latest kindred spirit! Why?
1. She went to a Christian college but shares my social liberal leanings.
2. She loves travel and thinks that people would be a lot less stupid and prejudiced if they traveled.
3. She has watched Buffy! And Angel and Firefly and Dollhouse and Dr. Horrible!!
4. When I told her I loved Troy and Abed, she did the handshake!
5. The only episode of Glee she has ever watched was the one with Neil Patrick Harris, because she loves him.
6. She watches anime and knew that Fruits Basket is the one that boys watch but pretend they don't.
I love my friends in Peoria, but I frequently feel like an outsider or a freak. Sometimes explicitly through teasing, sometimes just by the awkward silences when I reference something no one knows. It is so nice to know someone who gets all the things I love! And not only gets them, but loves them herself.
I want to be her friend, stat.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Thoughts of Friends
Wow. My friends are like, adults and stuff? I helped Lindsay and Nathan fix up their house a bit this afternoon. They are in their second house of their marriage. I can't fathom anything in that sentence. And then their married friends came over, which is fine, because we talked about adoption, and duh, I love talking about adoption (two families were even interested in pursuing it! Hurray!).
In my initial writing, I got all whiney and self-indulgent. And then I realized that I hate that about myself. So: revised!
I love that I have friends from every age and stage of life. I have little kid friends. I have high school friends. I have college friends. I have young single friends. I have young married friends. I have old single friends. I have old married friends.
I get to learn about everything always! Do I want to reminisce about my past and think about why I was the way I was? Got a friend for that. Do I want to consider how I do (or do not) want to live my future? Got a friend for that.
Just like how living with Jennie and Dusty taught me just about everything about how I want to be a parent. It's good to be surrounded by people who are in wildly different life stages than I am.
In my initial writing, I got all whiney and self-indulgent. And then I realized that I hate that about myself. So: revised!
I love that I have friends from every age and stage of life. I have little kid friends. I have high school friends. I have college friends. I have young single friends. I have young married friends. I have old single friends. I have old married friends.
I get to learn about everything always! Do I want to reminisce about my past and think about why I was the way I was? Got a friend for that. Do I want to consider how I do (or do not) want to live my future? Got a friend for that.
Just like how living with Jennie and Dusty taught me just about everything about how I want to be a parent. It's good to be surrounded by people who are in wildly different life stages than I am.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Woot Woot! 200!
Post #200!!! And exactly a year after I posted on here for the first time! That's pretty timely. I was going to say that 200 is a lot, but actually, that's way less than a post a day, so BAD ON ME. I'm sorry.
I have semi-happy money thoughts for this momentous occasion! I know, I know. Y'all are thrilled.
The thing is, my parents were going to buy a tablet for their upcoming Italy trip, and I was going to nab it for MY upcoming Mongolia trip. Because my computer must be plugged in to work, and the idea of 3G all the time internet (or as much as is possible in Mongolia) was super appealing.
And then they decided not to get it. Which means I'm in a technological financial quandry again! I'm such a man--it doesn't bother me to wait until my clothes and shoes fall apart to buy new ones, but gadgets? MOAR PLEAZ!
I've been stressing about it for awhile, and as I was driving home from work today, I thought, "What if I give money away equal to what I spend?" Brilliant, I replied to myself! And instantly my self-inflicted/God-inflicted guilt was lifted.
A while ago I posted about wanting to have a 50/50 budget....50% to me, 50% to others. And I dunno, that's hard? To give away half of what I make? But this feels right to me. That it's what I spend that should be equal?
I think I am way over-analyzing this. But isn't that how those moral shades of gray are to dealt with? To wrestle with them, to experiment with them, to think about them, to judge and decide and act?
So my new thought is: iPad2! I will be able to make movies, take pictures, and get online. And then whifever my computer inevitably dies, maybe I can just keep the iPad as sole gadget? And I will give an equal amount of money to....hm, probably InnerChange. I love them.
Being a human is tricky business. Especially when Jesus is ranting about money all the time in the New Testament. TEACH ME A FINANCE LESSON, JESUS! Oh wait, I guess that's what the last year has been.
I have semi-happy money thoughts for this momentous occasion! I know, I know. Y'all are thrilled.
The thing is, my parents were going to buy a tablet for their upcoming Italy trip, and I was going to nab it for MY upcoming Mongolia trip. Because my computer must be plugged in to work, and the idea of 3G all the time internet (or as much as is possible in Mongolia) was super appealing.
And then they decided not to get it. Which means I'm in a technological financial quandry again! I'm such a man--it doesn't bother me to wait until my clothes and shoes fall apart to buy new ones, but gadgets? MOAR PLEAZ!
I've been stressing about it for awhile, and as I was driving home from work today, I thought, "What if I give money away equal to what I spend?" Brilliant, I replied to myself! And instantly my self-inflicted/God-inflicted guilt was lifted.
A while ago I posted about wanting to have a 50/50 budget....50% to me, 50% to others. And I dunno, that's hard? To give away half of what I make? But this feels right to me. That it's what I spend that should be equal?
I think I am way over-analyzing this. But isn't that how those moral shades of gray are to dealt with? To wrestle with them, to experiment with them, to think about them, to judge and decide and act?
So my new thought is: iPad2! I will be able to make movies, take pictures, and get online. And then whifever my computer inevitably dies, maybe I can just keep the iPad as sole gadget? And I will give an equal amount of money to....hm, probably InnerChange. I love them.
Being a human is tricky business. Especially when Jesus is ranting about money all the time in the New Testament. TEACH ME A FINANCE LESSON, JESUS! Oh wait, I guess that's what the last year has been.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
RAAARG
Pet peeve #274:
When people say incredibly racist things, then add, "Not that I mind, of course."
I SEE THROUGH YOUR LIES, ASSHAT. And yes, those people totally deserve that name. The sad thing is, do they even see their lies? UGH. At least own up to your racism. And then, you know, GET OVER IT.
Edited for balance:
Epic love #274:
THIS VIDEO! Whedeonverse women FTW! My word, Joss is just...excellent.
When people say incredibly racist things, then add, "Not that I mind, of course."
I SEE THROUGH YOUR LIES, ASSHAT. And yes, those people totally deserve that name. The sad thing is, do they even see their lies? UGH. At least own up to your racism. And then, you know, GET OVER IT.
Edited for balance:
Epic love #274:
THIS VIDEO! Whedeonverse women FTW! My word, Joss is just...excellent.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Anniversary
One year ago today, I flew from Senegal to the United States. THIS BOGGLES MY MIND. For one, I never expected to still be in Peoria after a year. For two, it seems like way longer than a year. For three, it doesn't seem that long since I walked the sandy roads of Fatick. Hence the boggle.
I figure the best approach to an anniversary is to consider the past, present, and future, right? Onward!
Past: I kind of loved living in Senegal. It took me awhile, but I must have reached that point, because now I can only look back through rose colored glasses. I was at my healthiest in Senegal (physically, emotionally, and spiritually). I was probably at my happiest too. Although I am now remembering all the times I would get weepy from skyping with friends or mopey due to culture shock. HOWEVER. I have a lot of great stories from Senegal. There were bugs in the shower, compost heaps that got eaten by invading goats, community platters of food, and spastic dancing.
Present: If you at all keep up with my blog, you know my opinion of Peoria flip flops like a waffle. (No, I don't mean twice, it was a poor analogy, okay??) The thing is, Peoria looks perfect on paper. I have friends, I have a job, I have things to fill my free time. But I don't know if my friends love me as much as I love them, I wonder if I could be doing a more fulfilling job elsewhere, and sometimes my free time feels like it's choking me. So. Conflicted feelings FTW!
Future: I will probably be in Peoria for another year, since I've already committed to a Slovenia mission trip next spring (and WHAT, Peoria for two years? HOW DID THAT HAPPEN and will I survive?) Hopefully I will move out of my parent's house, and life will get better. Hopefully I will invest in my junior high class (tonight I had some nice bonding with Daeja, so that's looking pretty good). Hopefully I will feel secure in my friendships, or make new ones, or just go live in a cave like a hermit because I refuse to be pleased. And then! Hopefully God will lead me to some kind of overseas thing, and I will be brave enough to go, and it will be as awesome as Senegal (or awesomer! I am always okay with more awesome!).
Senegal changed me probably more than anything I've yet experienced. I was starting to be more confident in college, but it was Senegal that really made me self-assured and independent. That's what moving to a new continent by yourself will do, apparently. I'm so grateful for my five months there. I'm in love with the friends I made there, and I can't wait to reunite with them in July. I'm so glad I'm not the person I was before Senegal, because I always want to get better and deeper and stronger.
Bring it, future!
I figure the best approach to an anniversary is to consider the past, present, and future, right? Onward!
Past: I kind of loved living in Senegal. It took me awhile, but I must have reached that point, because now I can only look back through rose colored glasses. I was at my healthiest in Senegal (physically, emotionally, and spiritually). I was probably at my happiest too. Although I am now remembering all the times I would get weepy from skyping with friends or mopey due to culture shock. HOWEVER. I have a lot of great stories from Senegal. There were bugs in the shower, compost heaps that got eaten by invading goats, community platters of food, and spastic dancing.
Present: If you at all keep up with my blog, you know my opinion of Peoria flip flops like a waffle. (No, I don't mean twice, it was a poor analogy, okay??) The thing is, Peoria looks perfect on paper. I have friends, I have a job, I have things to fill my free time. But I don't know if my friends love me as much as I love them, I wonder if I could be doing a more fulfilling job elsewhere, and sometimes my free time feels like it's choking me. So. Conflicted feelings FTW!
Future: I will probably be in Peoria for another year, since I've already committed to a Slovenia mission trip next spring (and WHAT, Peoria for two years? HOW DID THAT HAPPEN and will I survive?) Hopefully I will move out of my parent's house, and life will get better. Hopefully I will invest in my junior high class (tonight I had some nice bonding with Daeja, so that's looking pretty good). Hopefully I will feel secure in my friendships, or make new ones, or just go live in a cave like a hermit because I refuse to be pleased. And then! Hopefully God will lead me to some kind of overseas thing, and I will be brave enough to go, and it will be as awesome as Senegal (or awesomer! I am always okay with more awesome!).
Senegal changed me probably more than anything I've yet experienced. I was starting to be more confident in college, but it was Senegal that really made me self-assured and independent. That's what moving to a new continent by yourself will do, apparently. I'm so grateful for my five months there. I'm in love with the friends I made there, and I can't wait to reunite with them in July. I'm so glad I'm not the person I was before Senegal, because I always want to get better and deeper and stronger.
Bring it, future!
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Songfic of my Spirituality
How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
The past couple weeks I have officially stopped talking to God. Not the result of anything dramatic. I just realized that I've been reading my Bible and praying out of habit. I don't look forward to it. I don't get anything out of it. I realize that those are not good excuses for stopping, but I was tired. And it felt more honest to tell God, "Okay sorry bye!" than to continue to pretend that everything was okay.
I struggle to find any truth in your lies
I think the O Me of Little Faith book was the catalyst. It made me aware of how many doubts I have, and how cynicism is my go-to reaction. I don't regret reading it, because it was good for me to realize those things. But it just opened this idea of, "What's the point?" into my spiritual life.
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
I don't understand a lot about faith. I like the NT approach to violence (don't!) but I hate how God wiped out people in the OT. I don't get why homosexuality is a sin. I don't understand why Christians are so stupid. I don't understand why I can't get better at this faith thing. Why do I always have to struggle with sins and doubts and insecurities? Can't they just go away? Does God really care? Is He actually working in my life?
This weakness I feel I must finally show
I am tired of lying about it. I'm tired of teaching Sunday School and college Bible Study and pretending like my spiritual life is alright.
Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all
I can plan with the best of them, go through the motions, and do great things for God, even in this state of ignoring.
But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall
It's just deeper that I have a problem. You want emotional solidarity? Not here. You want rock solid faith? Nope. I am great at externals, but when it comes to internal messiness, I just fall to pieces.
Lend me your eyes I can change what you see
I WANT THIS. I want to accept this promise from God. I want God to work in me, to change me, to let me see the world, and to see HIM as He sees it all. I want His perspective, because my own is selfish and stupid.
But your soul you must keep totally free
And this is the hard part, right? It's all the things enslaving my soul that distract me from God and keep me from trusting Him. How do I keep my soul free? How do I let go of insecurities, of entertainment, of doubts, of relationships, of thoughts, of vices, of everything that makes me prideful and human and selfish?
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
I think the way (or a way, at least) to see through God's eyes and to stop being stupid is to keep eternity in mind. Which I don't. If I really understood that my life is finite and that this body will return to the earth, then....wouldn't I live differently?
Where you invest your love, you invest your life
Where am I investing my love? In books. In TV shows. In church. Where am I not? In studying God's Word and spending concentrated time with Him. I don't love it. I should love it, right? But I don't, so I'm not investing my life in it.
Awake my soul, awake my soul, awake my soul
So this is all I have left: crying out for God to change me. Asking Him to renew me, to open my eyes, to love Him. I can't do it on my own. I can't make myself do anything good. I can only plead, and hope that He will awaken my soul again.
You were made to meet your maker
And that's it. That's my purpose. I'm not on earth to please myself, to live an easy life, or to moan around about my crises. I was made to meet my Maker. So I ought to get off my butt and do my job. I should study Him and look for Him and doubt Him and trust Him and wrestle with Him.
The past couple weeks I have officially stopped talking to God. Not the result of anything dramatic. I just realized that I've been reading my Bible and praying out of habit. I don't look forward to it. I don't get anything out of it. I realize that those are not good excuses for stopping, but I was tired. And it felt more honest to tell God, "Okay sorry bye!" than to continue to pretend that everything was okay.
I struggle to find any truth in your lies
I think the O Me of Little Faith book was the catalyst. It made me aware of how many doubts I have, and how cynicism is my go-to reaction. I don't regret reading it, because it was good for me to realize those things. But it just opened this idea of, "What's the point?" into my spiritual life.
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
I don't understand a lot about faith. I like the NT approach to violence (don't!) but I hate how God wiped out people in the OT. I don't get why homosexuality is a sin. I don't understand why Christians are so stupid. I don't understand why I can't get better at this faith thing. Why do I always have to struggle with sins and doubts and insecurities? Can't they just go away? Does God really care? Is He actually working in my life?
This weakness I feel I must finally show
I am tired of lying about it. I'm tired of teaching Sunday School and college Bible Study and pretending like my spiritual life is alright.
Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all
I can plan with the best of them, go through the motions, and do great things for God, even in this state of ignoring.
But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall
It's just deeper that I have a problem. You want emotional solidarity? Not here. You want rock solid faith? Nope. I am great at externals, but when it comes to internal messiness, I just fall to pieces.
Lend me your eyes I can change what you see
I WANT THIS. I want to accept this promise from God. I want God to work in me, to change me, to let me see the world, and to see HIM as He sees it all. I want His perspective, because my own is selfish and stupid.
But your soul you must keep totally free
And this is the hard part, right? It's all the things enslaving my soul that distract me from God and keep me from trusting Him. How do I keep my soul free? How do I let go of insecurities, of entertainment, of doubts, of relationships, of thoughts, of vices, of everything that makes me prideful and human and selfish?
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
I think the way (or a way, at least) to see through God's eyes and to stop being stupid is to keep eternity in mind. Which I don't. If I really understood that my life is finite and that this body will return to the earth, then....wouldn't I live differently?
Where you invest your love, you invest your life
Where am I investing my love? In books. In TV shows. In church. Where am I not? In studying God's Word and spending concentrated time with Him. I don't love it. I should love it, right? But I don't, so I'm not investing my life in it.
Awake my soul, awake my soul, awake my soul
So this is all I have left: crying out for God to change me. Asking Him to renew me, to open my eyes, to love Him. I can't do it on my own. I can't make myself do anything good. I can only plead, and hope that He will awaken my soul again.
You were made to meet your maker
And that's it. That's my purpose. I'm not on earth to please myself, to live an easy life, or to moan around about my crises. I was made to meet my Maker. So I ought to get off my butt and do my job. I should study Him and look for Him and doubt Him and trust Him and wrestle with Him.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Spending Money Before the Rapture
OMG guys. Only two hours and forty-five minutes more for the Rapture to take place!
I have to admit, one thing I like about this end-of-the-world junk is the snark it brings out of people! Alex Day made a hilarious "last" vlog, in which he, as an atheist, calls out the crazies on their hypocrisy. Because if Jesus doesn't know when the last day is, then of course some dude can figure it out. And anyway, I don't think there'll be a rapture, so.
But I had a wonderful last day. I finally went out with Marianne, an awesome woman from work. We went to Re, a store of fantastic things made out of recycled materials. SO COOL. I found a mind-blowing purse with a clasp that is a seatbelt. It was piles more expensive than I would usually pay for a purse (okay, it was $90. I KNOW).
Marianne told me that probably Martha and Lazarus outfitted Jesus with some rocking, durable sandals, so spending money on something that will last a long time isn't awful. That would not have convinced me, but then she reminded me that it was our last day on earth.
And...that sold me? Hahaha. Partly I like the idea of keeping the purse as this forever remembrance of the day the Rapture came and went. Remembering to stay humble, to not pretend that I have more knowledge of God than I really do. But also I realized that whenever I do die, or Jesus returns, I'm not going to care about money sitting in my bank account. No need to throw it around, but a little fun is good.
I think this is my next step in dealing with materialism. I have this gut reaction to spending any money ever. I hate the reckless spending I see in my family. But I do think there's truth to the fact that God created us to enjoy life, to enjoy beauty, to enjoy creations. So here's my new plan. It's okay to spend money on myself, so long as I also spend money on others.
I don't want to be ruled by money, and I don't want to be ruled by selfishness. So I will buy presents for friends, and I will buy nice new clothes when my old clothes are ruined, and I will give tithes to church, and I will give money offerings to friends who are serving God overseas, and I will buy a purse.
Is this all just justification for buying a purse? I mean, maybe. But I honestly don't feel bad about it, especially considering I used my last purse for three years, and if I get that kind of mileage out of this one, well....paid off, I'd say. And okay, that was an excuse. But the materialism thing....I'm still struggling with it and figuring it out.
But can't you be just as much a slave to money if you avoid it as if you give in to it?
I guess my modus operandi now is to give to others as often as I give to myself. We'll see how this goes!
Two hours and thirty minutes! Should we have a party tomorrow to celebrate the continuance of life?
Edited to add: OH NOES! I missed it!
I have to admit, one thing I like about this end-of-the-world junk is the snark it brings out of people! Alex Day made a hilarious "last" vlog, in which he, as an atheist, calls out the crazies on their hypocrisy. Because if Jesus doesn't know when the last day is, then of course some dude can figure it out. And anyway, I don't think there'll be a rapture, so.
But I had a wonderful last day. I finally went out with Marianne, an awesome woman from work. We went to Re, a store of fantastic things made out of recycled materials. SO COOL. I found a mind-blowing purse with a clasp that is a seatbelt. It was piles more expensive than I would usually pay for a purse (okay, it was $90. I KNOW).
Marianne told me that probably Martha and Lazarus outfitted Jesus with some rocking, durable sandals, so spending money on something that will last a long time isn't awful. That would not have convinced me, but then she reminded me that it was our last day on earth.
And...that sold me? Hahaha. Partly I like the idea of keeping the purse as this forever remembrance of the day the Rapture came and went. Remembering to stay humble, to not pretend that I have more knowledge of God than I really do. But also I realized that whenever I do die, or Jesus returns, I'm not going to care about money sitting in my bank account. No need to throw it around, but a little fun is good.
I think this is my next step in dealing with materialism. I have this gut reaction to spending any money ever. I hate the reckless spending I see in my family. But I do think there's truth to the fact that God created us to enjoy life, to enjoy beauty, to enjoy creations. So here's my new plan. It's okay to spend money on myself, so long as I also spend money on others.
I don't want to be ruled by money, and I don't want to be ruled by selfishness. So I will buy presents for friends, and I will buy nice new clothes when my old clothes are ruined, and I will give tithes to church, and I will give money offerings to friends who are serving God overseas, and I will buy a purse.
Is this all just justification for buying a purse? I mean, maybe. But I honestly don't feel bad about it, especially considering I used my last purse for three years, and if I get that kind of mileage out of this one, well....paid off, I'd say. And okay, that was an excuse. But the materialism thing....I'm still struggling with it and figuring it out.
But can't you be just as much a slave to money if you avoid it as if you give in to it?
I guess my modus operandi now is to give to others as often as I give to myself. We'll see how this goes!
Two hours and thirty minutes! Should we have a party tomorrow to celebrate the continuance of life?
Edited to add: OH NOES! I missed it!
Friday, May 20, 2011
+4 Things
First, an addendum to my "Things I Love about Living in Peoria" list:
7. Re-becoming friends with Michelle! We've been friends since first grade, but we only hung out for two lunches a year while we were in college. Now that we're starting up a semi-weekly thing, it's this awesome combination of comfort (we've known each other since we were six...how can we not be comfortable together?) and newness. Like finding an old pair of jeans in the back of your closet that you forgot just how much you love them and how perfectly they fit.
I told her about living in the back apartment of my house, which is where we (plus Lacie and Rachel) had a sleepover back in grade school, before my grandpa moved in. There are so few friends in my life with whom I have such far reading memories. It's kinda nice.
And I never feel like such a girl! We ate at Olive Garden, giggled at the weird noises passing waiters made, pointed out when old men were checking us out, discussed how we really need to work out more often, and caught up on boys and friends and marriages. I love being a girl, y'all might not know that. And so often I am surrounded by boys or families. Which is fine! I love getting outside the girl bubble. But it's been a long time since I've had a girly friend, and I am quite enjoying it (because Michelle is all the right kinds of girl without any of the drama).
AND my dear Ashley Pashley is engaged!!! YAY! I am so incredibly happy for her, and even more so for Stephen, because he gets to live with Ashley for the rest of his life! I cannot wait for their wedding, because I know it's going to be all kinds of aesthetically pleasing.
AND I went looking for my life goals list that I made sometime around freshman year of college. I am pleased to announce that the following are life goals that I have since met!
-visit the Hagia Sophia (Mr. Beckman, instigator of my dreams)
-be a Sunday School teacher (haha, didn't know I'd made this goal...hilarious)
-read the entire Bible (thank you, chronological daily Bible)
-practice yoga (I'm counting four months of p90x yoga)
-get someone famous's autograph (even if I also asked Donald Miller why he wasn't rocking a handlebar mustache)
-get a real Christmas tree (after 22 years, it happened!)
-pass a song in DDR on "heavy" level (some of my dreams are not so extravagant)
My favorite ones that I have left to accomplish:
-see a site from Lord of the Rings in New Zealand (YES PLEASE)
-see the Aurora Borealis
-sleep overnight in a castle (omg where did I come up with these awesome ideas)
-ride in a hot air balloon (this must have been before my fear of heights kicked in, but! it is on the list!)
-stay up all night (HAHAHA my poor baby self)
-celebrate my 50th wedding anniversary (better get on that, huh)
-dedicate one room in my house as a library (probably won't happen since I gave away all my books...)
-go to a poetry reading in a coffee shop (although Michelle said I dress as though I belonged at one, so that almost counts!)
-publish some form of writing
-learn the Thriller dance
-take a martial arts course (so I can be awesome like Buffy and never fear for my safety!)
-learn how to swing dance (yes please yes!)
-change a car tire (missed that opportunity a couple months ago)
-go to a symphony in an evening gown (ACK YES!)
-buy an original painting (do....gifts from my friends count?)
-experience weightlessness (how did I think of this??? YES!)
7. Re-becoming friends with Michelle! We've been friends since first grade, but we only hung out for two lunches a year while we were in college. Now that we're starting up a semi-weekly thing, it's this awesome combination of comfort (we've known each other since we were six...how can we not be comfortable together?) and newness. Like finding an old pair of jeans in the back of your closet that you forgot just how much you love them and how perfectly they fit.
I told her about living in the back apartment of my house, which is where we (plus Lacie and Rachel) had a sleepover back in grade school, before my grandpa moved in. There are so few friends in my life with whom I have such far reading memories. It's kinda nice.
And I never feel like such a girl! We ate at Olive Garden, giggled at the weird noises passing waiters made, pointed out when old men were checking us out, discussed how we really need to work out more often, and caught up on boys and friends and marriages. I love being a girl, y'all might not know that. And so often I am surrounded by boys or families. Which is fine! I love getting outside the girl bubble. But it's been a long time since I've had a girly friend, and I am quite enjoying it (because Michelle is all the right kinds of girl without any of the drama).
AND my dear Ashley Pashley is engaged!!! YAY! I am so incredibly happy for her, and even more so for Stephen, because he gets to live with Ashley for the rest of his life! I cannot wait for their wedding, because I know it's going to be all kinds of aesthetically pleasing.
AND I went looking for my life goals list that I made sometime around freshman year of college. I am pleased to announce that the following are life goals that I have since met!
-visit the Hagia Sophia (Mr. Beckman, instigator of my dreams)
-be a Sunday School teacher (haha, didn't know I'd made this goal...hilarious)
-read the entire Bible (thank you, chronological daily Bible)
-practice yoga (I'm counting four months of p90x yoga)
-get someone famous's autograph (even if I also asked Donald Miller why he wasn't rocking a handlebar mustache)
-get a real Christmas tree (after 22 years, it happened!)
-pass a song in DDR on "heavy" level (some of my dreams are not so extravagant)
My favorite ones that I have left to accomplish:
-see a site from Lord of the Rings in New Zealand (YES PLEASE)
-see the Aurora Borealis
-sleep overnight in a castle (omg where did I come up with these awesome ideas)
-ride in a hot air balloon (this must have been before my fear of heights kicked in, but! it is on the list!)
-stay up all night (HAHAHA my poor baby self)
-celebrate my 50th wedding anniversary (better get on that, huh)
-dedicate one room in my house as a library (probably won't happen since I gave away all my books...)
-go to a poetry reading in a coffee shop (although Michelle said I dress as though I belonged at one, so that almost counts!)
-publish some form of writing
-learn the Thriller dance
-take a martial arts course (so I can be awesome like Buffy and never fear for my safety!)
-learn how to swing dance (yes please yes!)
-change a car tire (missed that opportunity a couple months ago)
-go to a symphony in an evening gown (ACK YES!)
-buy an original painting (do....gifts from my friends count?)
-experience weightlessness (how did I think of this??? YES!)
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Friday Night Senegalese Memory
LOST boomed across the Forsythe computer screen like a cannonshot. Holly groaned at the typical cliffhanger ending. Ethan kept eating the piece of pizza he'd been working on for the last half hour. I patted Melody on the head and disentangled myself from her. No one watched me as I moved to the doorway, so I stretched my arms high over my head and yawned obnoxiously.
"Man, I'm tired!"
Liz looked up at me quizzically. I saw understanding flash across her face, and she burst into uproarious laughter. Kim was not pleased to be in the dark. "It's only nine o'clock. You can't be tired."
"Yeah, but....things." I hadn't thought about excuses.
Liz was already at the door, pulling the bright blue helmet onto her head. "Sorry, Kim!" she called as she snapped the buckle under her chin.
Kim entered the foyer on the prowl. "Why are you guys leaving so soon?"
"Well...okay, fine! We want to watch Buffy!" I never could lie to Kim.
"What!? You're leaving our Friday Night Pizza to watch a TV show?" She was hurt. I should have lied.
"You don't understand. It's Buffy. We're getting to the really good seasons."
"Yeah, girl. Let's go!" Liz palmed her keys.
Kim changed tactics. "Fine, then. Go!"
Liz and I shared a grin. "Okay! See you Sunday!" We bounded out the front door, giggling at our abrupt exit and at the future prospect of finishing season 6. Once we were through the gate, Liz started the moto and turned it toward the road. I adjusted my panja for maximum leg movement and straddled the seat behind her. I waved to the Forsythe's guard as we zig-zagged through the sand.
Once we hit the road, I tipped my head back and let the night breeze cool my face. I leaned toward Liz's helmeted ear and yelled, "Do you think we hurt her feelings?"
There was a pause. "But...it's Buffy!"
I laughed. "Yeah, it is."
A few minutes later, Liz stopped outside our gate. I reached through the metal latticework and unlatched the door. She drove through while I locked it back up. Once we got through our doors and locked them as well, we both paused.
"Popcorn and M&Ms?"
"That is exactly what I was thinking!"
Liz ran to the kitchen, pulling off her panja as she went. In shorts, she danced to the cupboard and pulled out the popcorn. I changed into my pajamas and pulled Liz's computer into the middle of our coffee table. By the time the popcorn was popped, salted, and candied, Buffy's theme song had played about twenty times.
We burrowed into the couch with the popcorn between us and watched all hell (nearly) break loose. The power went out halfway through the second episode, but we lit the candle that we keep on the coffee table for popcorn-light.
When the season ended and the credits rolled, I looked over at Liz. She was already staring at me. "Soooo, should we start season 7?" she asked.
"YES!"
"Man, I'm tired!"
Liz looked up at me quizzically. I saw understanding flash across her face, and she burst into uproarious laughter. Kim was not pleased to be in the dark. "It's only nine o'clock. You can't be tired."
"Yeah, but....things." I hadn't thought about excuses.
Liz was already at the door, pulling the bright blue helmet onto her head. "Sorry, Kim!" she called as she snapped the buckle under her chin.
Kim entered the foyer on the prowl. "Why are you guys leaving so soon?"
"Well...okay, fine! We want to watch Buffy!" I never could lie to Kim.
"What!? You're leaving our Friday Night Pizza to watch a TV show?" She was hurt. I should have lied.
"You don't understand. It's Buffy. We're getting to the really good seasons."
"Yeah, girl. Let's go!" Liz palmed her keys.
Kim changed tactics. "Fine, then. Go!"
Liz and I shared a grin. "Okay! See you Sunday!" We bounded out the front door, giggling at our abrupt exit and at the future prospect of finishing season 6. Once we were through the gate, Liz started the moto and turned it toward the road. I adjusted my panja for maximum leg movement and straddled the seat behind her. I waved to the Forsythe's guard as we zig-zagged through the sand.
Once we hit the road, I tipped my head back and let the night breeze cool my face. I leaned toward Liz's helmeted ear and yelled, "Do you think we hurt her feelings?"
There was a pause. "But...it's Buffy!"
I laughed. "Yeah, it is."
A few minutes later, Liz stopped outside our gate. I reached through the metal latticework and unlatched the door. She drove through while I locked it back up. Once we got through our doors and locked them as well, we both paused.
"Popcorn and M&Ms?"
"That is exactly what I was thinking!"
Liz ran to the kitchen, pulling off her panja as she went. In shorts, she danced to the cupboard and pulled out the popcorn. I changed into my pajamas and pulled Liz's computer into the middle of our coffee table. By the time the popcorn was popped, salted, and candied, Buffy's theme song had played about twenty times.
We burrowed into the couch with the popcorn between us and watched all hell (nearly) break loose. The power went out halfway through the second episode, but we lit the candle that we keep on the coffee table for popcorn-light.
When the season ended and the credits rolled, I looked over at Liz. She was already staring at me. "Soooo, should we start season 7?" she asked.
"YES!"
Hehe (This Laughter is Dedicated to Liz)
Oh my word. Funny people are my favorite. Thank goodness for the interwebs!
And here's hoping the midnight showing of Pirates 4 will also make with the funnies!
And here's hoping the midnight showing of Pirates 4 will also make with the funnies!
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Forcing My Emotions to Change
I was going to write a post about how tired I am of living in Peoria. I was going to say that I can feel myself succumbing to monotonous, American dream living, and that every day of work-eat-read-friends-sleep makes me want to curl up and die. I was going to say that I have lost all pretense of reading my Bible, and that I'm tired of everything. I was going to say that I want to leave and jump out of my comfort zone and therefore kick myself in the emotional and spiritual butt.
I was going to say those things (oops, didn't I?), but then I read the Very Worst Missionary's blog. Apparently she has also been feeling low, and combated that deadness with a little Scripture and positive thinking. So *sigh* I will do the same.
Things about living in Peoria that only make me smile:
1) The weather. I love getting to wear sweaters, then short sleeves and skirts, then sweaters again. I have a range of clothing, and for a couple months I get to wear everything!
2) I got paid to cut someone's hair.
3) I'm freaking awesome with kids, and I didn't know that until I moved here.
4) I get paid to drive around and pick up donated prizes.
5) Panera all the time.
6) I get to drive places, and listen to stuff while driving, and sing crazy loud without fear of someone telling me to shut up and stop thinking I'm a superstar.
Eh. That's pretty good. Maybe I will think of more later.
I was going to say those things (oops, didn't I?), but then I read the Very Worst Missionary's blog. Apparently she has also been feeling low, and combated that deadness with a little Scripture and positive thinking. So *sigh* I will do the same.
Things about living in Peoria that only make me smile:
1) The weather. I love getting to wear sweaters, then short sleeves and skirts, then sweaters again. I have a range of clothing, and for a couple months I get to wear everything!
2) I got paid to cut someone's hair.
3) I'm freaking awesome with kids, and I didn't know that until I moved here.
4) I get paid to drive around and pick up donated prizes.
5) Panera all the time.
6) I get to drive places, and listen to stuff while driving, and sing crazy loud without fear of someone telling me to shut up and stop thinking I'm a superstar.
Eh. That's pretty good. Maybe I will think of more later.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Love Letter to Jackson
Oh, Jackson. Home of my heart, hyperbolize etc. But really, as I was driving down I-55 on Friday, I kept grinning like a fool. And once there, driving over the bypass, cutting through Union, wandering the streets downtown....I MISS IT SO MUCH.
Jackson is where I am free. Jackson is where I am independent. Jackson is where I became the person I am now.
It helps that I got to see all of my Jackson friends this trip. First I stopped by Jennie and Dusty's. Jennie kept foisting delicious food and drink on me, and later proved how well she knew me. Tim was going to sell me his camera while I was in Jackson, and Dusty told me all about how he could probably find better deals online. I really did believe him, and said I might ask for like, $50 off. Jennie turned from the stove and said, "But you're really going to pay full price." I cracked up, because I had this idea of me being super saver and assertive, and Jennie knew that was utter crap before I did. (btw, she was right, but I don't even care because the camera is so pretty and shiny!)
The kids demanded I play with them, and am I the only person who finds adorable children maddening? I want to talk to Jennie, but they're so. freaking. cute. So I play, and I love it, because they're adorable! But then I want to talk to Jennie and Dusty, and they still want to play! And I can't say no because of their squench little faces. Though really, this trip felt like an excellent balance of adult to kid ratio.
Then the sky went dark. Hannah and I stood at the door, and I tried to calm her down.
H: It's so dark! There's going to be a tornado!
T: No no. They sky is just gray because it's going to rain. Thunderstorms are fun! They won't hurt you in the house.
H: It's a tornado!
T: No. I promise, it's okay.
H: It's a tornado siren!
T: No, that's the wind. See, it's just howling like....oh. Yup, that's a tornado siren.
We booked it to the under-the-stairs closet, which Jennie had just emptied. Dusty was on his way home from work, so the four of us sat with pillows and flashlights until the radio said it was okay.
I admit there are parts of Jackson that I definitely don't miss.
Friday night I ate breakfast for dinner with Erin and Stephanie. I got caught up on what their post-graduation plans are. I meant to show them a picture from Vancouver (I never talk about that mission trip, but it was kind of fantastic), which necessitated scrolling through a bunch of freshman year pictures. Stephanie said, "That was before us, when your life was boring!" I nodded, but what? Freshman year rocked the skylimits. Every day was fun and every night was funner.
And that was perfect to remember, because I met Ashley for breakfast Saturday morning. Turns out I might get to be a bridesmaid before the year is out, and that will mean two of my three Craig 3 sisters will be married! WHAT? That's so beyond crazy I cannot actually imagine it, but also it's very sweet and I'm happy for them.
With my new camera in hand, we went to the ag something or other, where I discovered the utter joy of shooting a close-up of a flower from six feet away. Also I took a lot of pictures of Ashley looking snarky, just as I like her. Then we went downtown, and she showed me the alleyway where she takes family pictures (hahaha, that sounds sketch, but really it isn't).
Unsure what to do, we called the movie theater and found out Something Borrowed was playing in two minutes, so off we went. UGH. Craptacular movie. With maybe fifteen minutes to spare, the movie was awesome, and I cuddled into Ashley with pure joy. And then the movie dropped the ball. No, it stomped on the ball and smeared poo on it. It was awful. We spent the last half hour together yelling at each other. Not in argument, but in shared disgust of the movie.
Then it was back to Erin and Tim's. Bruce and then Stephanie joined us. We were planning to go to a Turkish restaurant in Nashville, but every else was too busy and/or tired to do so. That sucked, but we ended up spending an hour in Books A Million (where I once spent two weeks dropping by to drink their Ghiradelli mint chocolate coffee) then eating Thai food.
We crashed back at the married housing and discussed deadly things in Thailand, where Bruce will be living in a couple months. He was largely unconcerned. The party ended around 11:30 when Tim and Erin regaled me with pranks they'd pulled on his brother, and I was mildly worried what I would find in their guest bed. That ended up being totally fine, but when I knocked on their bedroom door the next morning to say goodbye, it was a weird shock to see them in bed together. Covered in a sheet, THANK GOODNESS, but still. Marriage. Weird.
Leaving was a bit of a suckfest, but I stopped by the Monahan's on my way into town, like I used to do when Peoria was temporary and Jackson was fulltime. I'm glad I did, because I showed Abby my new camera, tried to twirl David's cap guns, and watched Community with Abby. They are a nice reminder that I have friends and fun times in Peoria too.
Jackson is where I am free. Jackson is where I am independent. Jackson is where I became the person I am now.
It helps that I got to see all of my Jackson friends this trip. First I stopped by Jennie and Dusty's. Jennie kept foisting delicious food and drink on me, and later proved how well she knew me. Tim was going to sell me his camera while I was in Jackson, and Dusty told me all about how he could probably find better deals online. I really did believe him, and said I might ask for like, $50 off. Jennie turned from the stove and said, "But you're really going to pay full price." I cracked up, because I had this idea of me being super saver and assertive, and Jennie knew that was utter crap before I did. (btw, she was right, but I don't even care because the camera is so pretty and shiny!)
The kids demanded I play with them, and am I the only person who finds adorable children maddening? I want to talk to Jennie, but they're so. freaking. cute. So I play, and I love it, because they're adorable! But then I want to talk to Jennie and Dusty, and they still want to play! And I can't say no because of their squench little faces. Though really, this trip felt like an excellent balance of adult to kid ratio.
Then the sky went dark. Hannah and I stood at the door, and I tried to calm her down.
H: It's so dark! There's going to be a tornado!
T: No no. They sky is just gray because it's going to rain. Thunderstorms are fun! They won't hurt you in the house.
H: It's a tornado!
T: No. I promise, it's okay.
H: It's a tornado siren!
T: No, that's the wind. See, it's just howling like....oh. Yup, that's a tornado siren.
We booked it to the under-the-stairs closet, which Jennie had just emptied. Dusty was on his way home from work, so the four of us sat with pillows and flashlights until the radio said it was okay.
I admit there are parts of Jackson that I definitely don't miss.
Friday night I ate breakfast for dinner with Erin and Stephanie. I got caught up on what their post-graduation plans are. I meant to show them a picture from Vancouver (I never talk about that mission trip, but it was kind of fantastic), which necessitated scrolling through a bunch of freshman year pictures. Stephanie said, "That was before us, when your life was boring!" I nodded, but what? Freshman year rocked the skylimits. Every day was fun and every night was funner.
And that was perfect to remember, because I met Ashley for breakfast Saturday morning. Turns out I might get to be a bridesmaid before the year is out, and that will mean two of my three Craig 3 sisters will be married! WHAT? That's so beyond crazy I cannot actually imagine it, but also it's very sweet and I'm happy for them.
With my new camera in hand, we went to the ag something or other, where I discovered the utter joy of shooting a close-up of a flower from six feet away. Also I took a lot of pictures of Ashley looking snarky, just as I like her. Then we went downtown, and she showed me the alleyway where she takes family pictures (hahaha, that sounds sketch, but really it isn't).
Unsure what to do, we called the movie theater and found out Something Borrowed was playing in two minutes, so off we went. UGH. Craptacular movie. With maybe fifteen minutes to spare, the movie was awesome, and I cuddled into Ashley with pure joy. And then the movie dropped the ball. No, it stomped on the ball and smeared poo on it. It was awful. We spent the last half hour together yelling at each other. Not in argument, but in shared disgust of the movie.
Then it was back to Erin and Tim's. Bruce and then Stephanie joined us. We were planning to go to a Turkish restaurant in Nashville, but every else was too busy and/or tired to do so. That sucked, but we ended up spending an hour in Books A Million (where I once spent two weeks dropping by to drink their Ghiradelli mint chocolate coffee) then eating Thai food.
We crashed back at the married housing and discussed deadly things in Thailand, where Bruce will be living in a couple months. He was largely unconcerned. The party ended around 11:30 when Tim and Erin regaled me with pranks they'd pulled on his brother, and I was mildly worried what I would find in their guest bed. That ended up being totally fine, but when I knocked on their bedroom door the next morning to say goodbye, it was a weird shock to see them in bed together. Covered in a sheet, THANK GOODNESS, but still. Marriage. Weird.
Leaving was a bit of a suckfest, but I stopped by the Monahan's on my way into town, like I used to do when Peoria was temporary and Jackson was fulltime. I'm glad I did, because I showed Abby my new camera, tried to twirl David's cap guns, and watched Community with Abby. They are a nice reminder that I have friends and fun times in Peoria too.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Mostly Just Boys....Like Normal
When I went to facebook this morning, I saw that it was my high school freshman year crush's birthday. Seeing his name, I had this immediate heart constriction attack. Guys, I liked him NINE YEARS AGO. And still I get twitterpated. It is true, the never quite getting over your first crush.
Then later tonight I showed Emily a bunch of youtube clips of various So You Think You Can Dance songs. And now that I'm home from church, I cannot stop! And since my life revolves around boys, my dance choices to revisit have of course revolved around Kent (because what the what, that kid is POWERFUL), then Billy (because he can do splits in jeans and he's so freaking adorable!) and Mark (because he's so awesomely weird!).
And then I remembered Jakob. Oh, Jakob, I loved you so much. You were such a fantastic dancer. And you could rock the weird like no one else. And let's be honest, you are sexy.
I now want to marry a dancer. Who will teach me to dance. And then we will dance together!
Okay, back to youtube.
Then later tonight I showed Emily a bunch of youtube clips of various So You Think You Can Dance songs. And now that I'm home from church, I cannot stop! And since my life revolves around boys, my dance choices to revisit have of course revolved around Kent (because what the what, that kid is POWERFUL), then Billy (because he can do splits in jeans and he's so freaking adorable!) and Mark (because he's so awesomely weird!).
And then I remembered Jakob. Oh, Jakob, I loved you so much. You were such a fantastic dancer. And you could rock the weird like no one else. And let's be honest, you are sexy.
I now want to marry a dancer. Who will teach me to dance. And then we will dance together!
Okay, back to youtube.
Monday, May 9, 2011
"We Are So Blessed"
What with the Lay Ministry Weekend and the 30 Hour Famine, discussions of American privilege have been semi-common in my life lately. It has become kind of the popular thing for someone to nod their head seriously and say in a low voice, "We're so blessed, you know? So blessed."
This drives me crazy. It makes me want to pull out my hair and scream.
Because really? Is this news? We live in a country that offers us plenty of freedoms. Everyone I know has a house and a bed and a car and a cell phone. Saying we are blessed is akin to saying, "I prefer not burning to death" or "Cadbury Cream Eggs are really really good." I don't need to be hit with an obvious stick.
What I want is for people to move past the part where we are blessed and start asking why this is so. Why are Americans in general richer than most of the world? Why am I specifically the owner of a car, a computer, and a sizable bank account?
I don't think the answer is simply so that I can sit around happy that I wasn't raised in Niger. That is the selfish way out, but even worse, it's selfishness covered in ignorance. Give me someone who gleefully hoards their money and tells the poor to scram over someone who innocently hoards their money while looking at the poor with pity. Honesty over hypocrisy any day.
So let's stop talking about how blessed we are. Let's start using the material and political and spiritual blessings that God has given us to impact the poor, to balance the world's rich/poor divide, to take care of orphans and widows, and to bring about God's kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.
Faith without action is dead, after all.
This drives me crazy. It makes me want to pull out my hair and scream.
Because really? Is this news? We live in a country that offers us plenty of freedoms. Everyone I know has a house and a bed and a car and a cell phone. Saying we are blessed is akin to saying, "I prefer not burning to death" or "Cadbury Cream Eggs are really really good." I don't need to be hit with an obvious stick.
What I want is for people to move past the part where we are blessed and start asking why this is so. Why are Americans in general richer than most of the world? Why am I specifically the owner of a car, a computer, and a sizable bank account?
I don't think the answer is simply so that I can sit around happy that I wasn't raised in Niger. That is the selfish way out, but even worse, it's selfishness covered in ignorance. Give me someone who gleefully hoards their money and tells the poor to scram over someone who innocently hoards their money while looking at the poor with pity. Honesty over hypocrisy any day.
So let's stop talking about how blessed we are. Let's start using the material and political and spiritual blessings that God has given us to impact the poor, to balance the world's rich/poor divide, to take care of orphans and widows, and to bring about God's kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.
Faith without action is dead, after all.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Most Exhausting Weekend
The 30 Hour Famine was this weekend at church, led by Wendy and the Young Adults (band name!). All the games and activities revolved around what life would be like in the aftermath of a natural disaster such as the earthquake in Haiti.
There were some really cool lessons, like a tag game where the taggers symbolized slave traders who kidnap orphaned kids and sell them into work or sex slavery. Those who were tagged were either sent out of the game with a card explaining what had happened to them or put in the game as a new tagger, because sadly, a lot of those kids grow up to become the monster that enslaved them.
We built cardboard homes to spend the night outside. The guys used trees and hay bales with their materials, but the girls just made a massive circle of cardboard, set a cardboard pole in the middle, and made a roof of tarps duct-taped together. It was pretty impressive, and easily fit all 11 of us.
Before the weekend, my boss warned me that the kids would hate me if it rained. I launched into a stirring speech about how they would learn empathy far more after experiencing something like that rather than just hearing about it. I prayed that it would rain and the kids would learn what it would really be like to live in post-disaster housing.
I should have been more careful with my prayer (isn't that often the case?). I laid in front of the door so I would know if anyone went out or in. That meant all the cold wind swept right into me throughout the night. It wasn't too bad at first, because I was wearing sweats, had a hoodie pulled up, and snuggled entirely into my sleeping bag.
Girls had to go to the bathroom, so probably six times in the night, someone tugged on my leg or stepped on my hand and asked if they could go out. I was usually about to fall back asleep by the time they returned and asked me to move so they could come back in.
And it rained. I was lying directly beneath the line where two tarps were taped together. The rain separated the tape in some places, and there was a line of water dripping onto my sleeping bag. Not a huge deal, because it's semi-water proof.
Until Ashley sat up and said, "Somebody wake Natori up!" Her foot was shaken, and she opened her eyes. "Oh craaap," she sleep-moaned when she saw the tarp bowing under water to within two inches of her face. She crawled out from under it, and not a minute later, the tarp gave out and splashed water where she'd been sleeping.
That happened to be at my feet, and the last foot of my sleeping bag was completely soaked. I curled up for the rest of the night, and every time I would try to stretch out in my sleep, it was like dipping my feet into cold, wet socks. Ugh.
Around 4:00 in the morning, a hole opened in the tape above my pillow. For a while it just dripped, and I avoided that side of the pillow. I was deep asleep when a bucket of water fell directly onto my face. I spluttered and felt my pillow. Completely soaked except for a couple inches of one side. I flipped it so I could lay the top of my head on the dry part, curled my feet out of the wet bottom of my sleeping bag, and tried to keep my face covered my face from the wind.
Unpleasant. And uncomfortable.
I figured everyone was suffering similarly, but when I woke up I found out only two other girls had gotten wet, and that mine was the worst of it all. Of course that was the case, since I gleefully wanted them to learn a lesson, and obviously I needed to learn it instead.
And I did! We came with nice sturdy cardboard, strong tarps, and duct tape, but still, our house fell apart from a light rain. I can't even imagine how people live in less during worse conditions.
I was semi-cranky the rest of the famine from lack of sleep and a hunger headache. But we went out to neighborhoods to collect canned foods for our food pantry, and that was overwhelmingly successful. And when it came time to break our fast, we sent the kids outside to look for their picnic. Wendy had put sandwiches, chips, and cookies in ziploc bags, then put everything into trash bags with actual trash and thrown everything into the dumpster. I thought it was incredibly cool.
When everything was picked up, I went home, barely stayed awake to watch Community and Parks & Recreation, then showered and went to sleep by 9:00. I went to church this morning, then came home and took a three hour nap. I hope I'm caught up on sleep now.
There were some really cool lessons, like a tag game where the taggers symbolized slave traders who kidnap orphaned kids and sell them into work or sex slavery. Those who were tagged were either sent out of the game with a card explaining what had happened to them or put in the game as a new tagger, because sadly, a lot of those kids grow up to become the monster that enslaved them.
We built cardboard homes to spend the night outside. The guys used trees and hay bales with their materials, but the girls just made a massive circle of cardboard, set a cardboard pole in the middle, and made a roof of tarps duct-taped together. It was pretty impressive, and easily fit all 11 of us.
Before the weekend, my boss warned me that the kids would hate me if it rained. I launched into a stirring speech about how they would learn empathy far more after experiencing something like that rather than just hearing about it. I prayed that it would rain and the kids would learn what it would really be like to live in post-disaster housing.
I should have been more careful with my prayer (isn't that often the case?). I laid in front of the door so I would know if anyone went out or in. That meant all the cold wind swept right into me throughout the night. It wasn't too bad at first, because I was wearing sweats, had a hoodie pulled up, and snuggled entirely into my sleeping bag.
Girls had to go to the bathroom, so probably six times in the night, someone tugged on my leg or stepped on my hand and asked if they could go out. I was usually about to fall back asleep by the time they returned and asked me to move so they could come back in.
And it rained. I was lying directly beneath the line where two tarps were taped together. The rain separated the tape in some places, and there was a line of water dripping onto my sleeping bag. Not a huge deal, because it's semi-water proof.
Until Ashley sat up and said, "Somebody wake Natori up!" Her foot was shaken, and she opened her eyes. "Oh craaap," she sleep-moaned when she saw the tarp bowing under water to within two inches of her face. She crawled out from under it, and not a minute later, the tarp gave out and splashed water where she'd been sleeping.
That happened to be at my feet, and the last foot of my sleeping bag was completely soaked. I curled up for the rest of the night, and every time I would try to stretch out in my sleep, it was like dipping my feet into cold, wet socks. Ugh.
Around 4:00 in the morning, a hole opened in the tape above my pillow. For a while it just dripped, and I avoided that side of the pillow. I was deep asleep when a bucket of water fell directly onto my face. I spluttered and felt my pillow. Completely soaked except for a couple inches of one side. I flipped it so I could lay the top of my head on the dry part, curled my feet out of the wet bottom of my sleeping bag, and tried to keep my face covered my face from the wind.
Unpleasant. And uncomfortable.
I figured everyone was suffering similarly, but when I woke up I found out only two other girls had gotten wet, and that mine was the worst of it all. Of course that was the case, since I gleefully wanted them to learn a lesson, and obviously I needed to learn it instead.
And I did! We came with nice sturdy cardboard, strong tarps, and duct tape, but still, our house fell apart from a light rain. I can't even imagine how people live in less during worse conditions.
I was semi-cranky the rest of the famine from lack of sleep and a hunger headache. But we went out to neighborhoods to collect canned foods for our food pantry, and that was overwhelmingly successful. And when it came time to break our fast, we sent the kids outside to look for their picnic. Wendy had put sandwiches, chips, and cookies in ziploc bags, then put everything into trash bags with actual trash and thrown everything into the dumpster. I thought it was incredibly cool.
When everything was picked up, I went home, barely stayed awake to watch Community and Parks & Recreation, then showered and went to sleep by 9:00. I went to church this morning, then came home and took a three hour nap. I hope I'm caught up on sleep now.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
I Found A New Hero
Okay, if I ever get to be a full time missionary, I don't know what I'll name my blog, because this girl already has the best title.
Even though I spent most of my time with Stephanie my last year or so of college, we are not exactly very similar at all. Who I AM similar to is her roommate Elizabeth. Seriously, sometimes I worry we are the same person living in two different bodies. We are cynical, hilarious, intelligent, and awesome. Yeah, I went there.
Anyway. She is the one who told me about this blog, and I'm so glad she did! Jamie sounds like exactly the sort of person I want to hang around. She casually throws curse words and Jesus into her posts. I LOVE HER. She loves fiercely, she has a witty personality, and she's committed to sharing Jesus with people in Costa Rica. Can I be her?
AND ALSO. She is married! And has kids! Y'all know I have serious issues with boys and marriage and especially kids. I tend to see that whole process as separate from missionary work. My brain can't fit the two together, despite seeing people like the Forsythes do exactly that. I guess Kim just seems too perfect (though weird! and obvs, I love you Kim if you still read this).
But Jamie? Like I said. She discusses boobage and says rat's ass before waxing poetic about Scripture. If she can be that open and honest and fantastic while married, well then, SIGN ME UP. I never knew I could still be cool if I were a missionary AND married.
Read her. And if you are offended by the ass thing, then...I'm sorry. The rest of her blog is well worth a word or two.
Even though I spent most of my time with Stephanie my last year or so of college, we are not exactly very similar at all. Who I AM similar to is her roommate Elizabeth. Seriously, sometimes I worry we are the same person living in two different bodies. We are cynical, hilarious, intelligent, and awesome. Yeah, I went there.
Anyway. She is the one who told me about this blog, and I'm so glad she did! Jamie sounds like exactly the sort of person I want to hang around. She casually throws curse words and Jesus into her posts. I LOVE HER. She loves fiercely, she has a witty personality, and she's committed to sharing Jesus with people in Costa Rica. Can I be her?
AND ALSO. She is married! And has kids! Y'all know I have serious issues with boys and marriage and especially kids. I tend to see that whole process as separate from missionary work. My brain can't fit the two together, despite seeing people like the Forsythes do exactly that. I guess Kim just seems too perfect (though weird! and obvs, I love you Kim if you still read this).
But Jamie? Like I said. She discusses boobage and says rat's ass before waxing poetic about Scripture. If she can be that open and honest and fantastic while married, well then, SIGN ME UP. I never knew I could still be cool if I were a missionary AND married.
Read her. And if you are offended by the ass thing, then...I'm sorry. The rest of her blog is well worth a word or two.
Psychology, TV, Boys, and Some CAPS LOCK
I was watching my vampire show, like I do, (no, not Buffy. I'm watching Vampire Diaries now.) Okay, stop. Mini rant. While I appreciate how the interwebs allow me to find people who like the same things as me, it just makes me think, "Why are my RL friends not more like me!? Why do I have to go to my computer to do some quality vampire analysis?" Sad.
I was watching my vampire show, like I do, and I had an epiphany. For those who don't know (which is everyone I speak to vocally) Stefan is the good boyfriend who respects Elena's wishes and treats her like a capable adult who can make hard decisions that he may or may not agree with. This is fantastic, no? This is a great boyfriend! So why do I love Damon so much, when he rashly makes decisions for Elena, forcing her into positions she hates, all because he "loves" her?
See, I even know that he doesn't understand what love really is. So again, why do I root for him instead of the ideal? I have two thoughts, one obvious, the other more personal.
1) Perfect people on television are BORING. Your girlfriend chooses to sacrifice herself and you just...let her go after a nice conversation? NO. You lose all TV drama points. You yell a lot and when that doesn't convince her, you force her to drink your blood thereby forcing her to turn into a vampire if she goes through with the dying thing, which is the one thing she really really doesn't want to do? YES! That is how you make good television!
2) I have very conflicting opinions on boys. With every given story, there is no telling who I will like. In the City of books, I was entirely on Jace's side (hotheaded and wounded) and against Simon (healthily normal). But in the Hunger Games, I was 100% for Peeta (healthily normal) and not for Gale (hotheaded and wounded). Why? I don't know!
Sometimes I like two characters in the same story! I love Harry. He is awesome, and if he were real, I would want to be his friend/love interest. And despite a childhood of abuse and an adolescence of escaping and defeating evil, he is pretty well-adjusted and normal. But I also love Draco! He is spoiled, and he is a coward. But he wants so badly to be important that he puts on this show of violence and superiority. He is broken and messed up, and I love him so! What happens when Harry and Draco fight? I root for everyone and no one. The fact that they came to some kind of agreement in Deathly Hallows is one big metaphor for my dualistic boy opinions reconciling (thanks for that, Jo).
What I've decided is that Boy Stereotype #1 represents the superego, and therefore MY superego likes him. And Boy Stereotype #2 represents the id, and therefore MY id likes him.
How to unify them with the ego? BRING IN SPIKE, OF COURSE.
Because Spike is all about covering up his pain and insecurities with a show of snark and joy. But he also supports Buffy, knowing that she's twenty times better than he is, and he loves and respects her for it. So. With Spike, I get it all. Is it any wonder the interwebs are in love with him? (And here we return to the sad fact that I don't know the faces of the people who agree with me.)
I was watching my vampire show, like I do, and I had an epiphany. For those who don't know (which is everyone I speak to vocally) Stefan is the good boyfriend who respects Elena's wishes and treats her like a capable adult who can make hard decisions that he may or may not agree with. This is fantastic, no? This is a great boyfriend! So why do I love Damon so much, when he rashly makes decisions for Elena, forcing her into positions she hates, all because he "loves" her?
See, I even know that he doesn't understand what love really is. So again, why do I root for him instead of the ideal? I have two thoughts, one obvious, the other more personal.
1) Perfect people on television are BORING. Your girlfriend chooses to sacrifice herself and you just...let her go after a nice conversation? NO. You lose all TV drama points. You yell a lot and when that doesn't convince her, you force her to drink your blood thereby forcing her to turn into a vampire if she goes through with the dying thing, which is the one thing she really really doesn't want to do? YES! That is how you make good television!
2) I have very conflicting opinions on boys. With every given story, there is no telling who I will like. In the City of books, I was entirely on Jace's side (hotheaded and wounded) and against Simon (healthily normal). But in the Hunger Games, I was 100% for Peeta (healthily normal) and not for Gale (hotheaded and wounded). Why? I don't know!
Sometimes I like two characters in the same story! I love Harry. He is awesome, and if he were real, I would want to be his friend/love interest. And despite a childhood of abuse and an adolescence of escaping and defeating evil, he is pretty well-adjusted and normal. But I also love Draco! He is spoiled, and he is a coward. But he wants so badly to be important that he puts on this show of violence and superiority. He is broken and messed up, and I love him so! What happens when Harry and Draco fight? I root for everyone and no one. The fact that they came to some kind of agreement in Deathly Hallows is one big metaphor for my dualistic boy opinions reconciling (thanks for that, Jo).
What I've decided is that Boy Stereotype #1 represents the superego, and therefore MY superego likes him. And Boy Stereotype #2 represents the id, and therefore MY id likes him.
How to unify them with the ego? BRING IN SPIKE, OF COURSE.
Because Spike is all about covering up his pain and insecurities with a show of snark and joy. But he also supports Buffy, knowing that she's twenty times better than he is, and he loves and respects her for it. So. With Spike, I get it all. Is it any wonder the interwebs are in love with him? (And here we return to the sad fact that I don't know the faces of the people who agree with me.)
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Hypocrite Me
I am a skeptic and a cynic. My grandpa just finished reading this book about a little boy who dies, goes to heaven, and then is resuscitated. Grandpa is over the moon about this book, and raved about it to me. My response? "Well...kids have crazy imaginations, and I'm sure his pastor father had told him about heaven. Anyway, it would be more convincing if everyone who died and went to heaven experienced the same thing. And what happens to Muslim or Hindu people when they have near death experiences?"
He was not pleased.
BUT I have found my soul mate! Jason Boyett wrote O Me of Little Faith, and within a paragraph or two, I knew I had found a C.S. Lewis friend. ("Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one.") Boyett is funny, doubtful, intelligent, skeptical, and devoted to Jesus. I intend to write more about his book in a later post.
What I want to talk about right now is how I am a hypocrite. One of my favorite passages from the beginning of the book is this:
"If my flight gets canceled, perhaps it's just the result of a backlog of delayed flights thanks to a major storm somewhere. I'm seriously hesitant to assume a master evangelistic plan behind flight delays, but many well-meaning Christians really do place so much value on a single soul that they have no problem believing that God whipped up a thunderstorm over the Dallas/Forth Worth airport, piled stress on airline employees, and inconvenienced hundreds of travelers for the purpose of engineering a conversation of eternal significance. My honest assessment of most 'divine appointment' language is that it is self-centered. Especially if your divinely appointed evangelism is at the expense of a bunch of other people who just want to get home in time to tuck in their kids. (Right: I'm a soulless twit.)"
I laughed and mentally fist-bumped Boyett. So funny! So accurately conveying my own confused opinions!
And then tonight I totally pulled the divine out of the mundane, and I knew I was lying the whole time. In Team Kids, we talked about being lonely, and how a little MK prayed that God would give her a friend, and she made a friend! One of the adults asked if I was lonely in Senegal, so I said, "I was so nervous to leave all my friends and family! I prayed really hard that I would make new friends in Senegal. And it turns out that I clicked with my housemate, and she became one of my closest friends! I really believe that God gave me a friend because I prayed."
That is all true, except for the last sentence. I made it up because it sounded spiritual and lesson-centric. But that is ridiculous to even the most uninformed listener. Liz would have been my housemate whether I'd prayed about it or not. We still would have had similar personalities whether I prayed about it or not. So we would have been friends whether I prayed about it or not. I don't think my prayers kept her from being killed in a freak horse-cart accident, thereby leaving me friendless in Senegal (and this is all not even considering my friendships with Holly and Kim etc). My prayers are not that powerful (or self-centered, see my agreement with quote above).
I don't understand prayer. The best I can come up with is that by praying, we open our eyes to see God working. My prayers didn't cause anything to happen, but it made me turn to God with 1) my problem, and 2) my praise. That's enough for me for now. There might be more, but I don't get it.
So why did I claim more? Because I was raised to think that's the sort of thing spiritual people say, and I wanted to look good. Instead, I was a hypocrite. I'd really like to stop that, and I want to try to own up to my failings and my doubts. Coming soon, I guess...
He was not pleased.
BUT I have found my soul mate! Jason Boyett wrote O Me of Little Faith, and within a paragraph or two, I knew I had found a C.S. Lewis friend. ("Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one.") Boyett is funny, doubtful, intelligent, skeptical, and devoted to Jesus. I intend to write more about his book in a later post.
What I want to talk about right now is how I am a hypocrite. One of my favorite passages from the beginning of the book is this:
"If my flight gets canceled, perhaps it's just the result of a backlog of delayed flights thanks to a major storm somewhere. I'm seriously hesitant to assume a master evangelistic plan behind flight delays, but many well-meaning Christians really do place so much value on a single soul that they have no problem believing that God whipped up a thunderstorm over the Dallas/Forth Worth airport, piled stress on airline employees, and inconvenienced hundreds of travelers for the purpose of engineering a conversation of eternal significance. My honest assessment of most 'divine appointment' language is that it is self-centered. Especially if your divinely appointed evangelism is at the expense of a bunch of other people who just want to get home in time to tuck in their kids. (Right: I'm a soulless twit.)"
I laughed and mentally fist-bumped Boyett. So funny! So accurately conveying my own confused opinions!
And then tonight I totally pulled the divine out of the mundane, and I knew I was lying the whole time. In Team Kids, we talked about being lonely, and how a little MK prayed that God would give her a friend, and she made a friend! One of the adults asked if I was lonely in Senegal, so I said, "I was so nervous to leave all my friends and family! I prayed really hard that I would make new friends in Senegal. And it turns out that I clicked with my housemate, and she became one of my closest friends! I really believe that God gave me a friend because I prayed."
That is all true, except for the last sentence. I made it up because it sounded spiritual and lesson-centric. But that is ridiculous to even the most uninformed listener. Liz would have been my housemate whether I'd prayed about it or not. We still would have had similar personalities whether I prayed about it or not. So we would have been friends whether I prayed about it or not. I don't think my prayers kept her from being killed in a freak horse-cart accident, thereby leaving me friendless in Senegal (and this is all not even considering my friendships with Holly and Kim etc). My prayers are not that powerful (or self-centered, see my agreement with quote above).
I don't understand prayer. The best I can come up with is that by praying, we open our eyes to see God working. My prayers didn't cause anything to happen, but it made me turn to God with 1) my problem, and 2) my praise. That's enough for me for now. There might be more, but I don't get it.
So why did I claim more? Because I was raised to think that's the sort of thing spiritual people say, and I wanted to look good. Instead, I was a hypocrite. I'd really like to stop that, and I want to try to own up to my failings and my doubts. Coming soon, I guess...
Sunday, May 1, 2011
The Weekend of Awesome is Over
When I was in youth group, my friends and I used to joke about how awesome it would be if we could have a Woodland High School, where we spent all day every day together.
This weekend I felt the same, but on a larger scale. Spending Friday, Saturday, and Sunday with my church family? Awesome. If we made Woodland into an apartment complex, I would be first to sign a lease. Moar church now!!
This weekend I felt the same, but on a larger scale. Spending Friday, Saturday, and Sunday with my church family? Awesome. If we made Woodland into an apartment complex, I would be first to sign a lease. Moar church now!!
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