The girls in my Sunday School class asked if we could talk about missions next week, and continuing on in a study of various cultures and religions. UM YES PLEASE. Mom sent me an email a few days ago from a missionary in Guinea Bissou, and in it he copied William Booth's vision. I've copied part of it here, because oh man, it is just exactly why we should be involved in missions.
Context: The sea is full of drowning human sinners, the rock is the safe place on which the saved rest. Some are busy jumping back into the sea to save more drowning people, but most of the saved stand around, making music, looking pretty, pursuing careers. And then this...
"So these people used to meet and get up as high on the rock as they could, and looking towards the mainland (where they thought the Great Being was) they would cry out, "Come to us! Come and help us!" And all the while He was down (by His Spirit) among the poor struggling, drowning creatures in the angry deep, with His arms around them trying to drag them out, and looking up - oh! so longingly but all in vain - to those on the rock, crying to them with His voice all hoarse from calling, "Come to Me! Come, and help Me!"
GUH. I just can't even.
What the heck--the whole vision is below the cut.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Angel vs. Spike
Last week I was thrilled to discover that Daniel had watched all seven seasons of Buffy and all five seasons of Angel. Then I was completely disappointed, because his favorite character is Angel, and he doesn't even like Spike a little bit.
Which got me thinking: Why is Spike so obviously superior to Angel? The result: this essay.
Angel is a big ball of "everything happens to me" whereas Spike is a big ball of "I will happen to everything!" I like my men (and TV characters) proactive. And funny. And also full of the sexy.
Let's go deeper, shall we?
As a human, Angel was a whoring, horrible man who followed vampire Darla because she promised him a life of further debauchery.
As a human, Spike was a lovesick poet who over-cared for his mother and followed vampire Drusilla because she promised a life of poetry and acceptance.
As a soulless vampire, Angel immediately killed his family, then tore the world apart because he wanted everyone to suffer as much pain as possible.
As a soulless vampire, Spike immediately killed his mother so that her tuberculosis could be cured and she could have eternal life...then killed her again when he realized he had turned her into a monster. He tore the world apart because it was fun, and despite his evil nature and two-timing girlfriend, remained monogamously devoted to the woman he loved.
As Buffy's romantic interest, Angel fell into big epic love, wanting to find meaning in her purpose. He never tried to curb her 16-year-old puppy love with his centuries old wisdom, and in fact manipulated her emotions when she had the sense to realize their relationship was doomed.
As Buffy's romantic interest, Spike pursued her for three years because he was so in love with her as an individual, and he died loving her despite never believing he had received her love in return.
As a redeemed vampire, Angel was forced to have a soul by a gypsy curse, and then proceeded to mope around for centuries in alleys eating rats.
As a redeemed vampire, Spike fought to have a soul, suffered a brief lapse of insanity, then went immediately into fighting evil and becoming a man, this time for himself and not just to impress the girl he loved.
Um, is there even a contest? And I barely mentioned Spike's wit, joie de vivre, and general sardonic optimism, contrasted to Angel's constant brooking of "life is just the worst." (Granted, Angel got funnier when he got his own show, though mostly because he started making fun of his own brooding tendencies.)
Spike rules. The end.
Which got me thinking: Why is Spike so obviously superior to Angel? The result: this essay.
Angel is a big ball of "everything happens to me" whereas Spike is a big ball of "I will happen to everything!" I like my men (and TV characters) proactive. And funny. And also full of the sexy.
Let's go deeper, shall we?
As a human, Angel was a whoring, horrible man who followed vampire Darla because she promised him a life of further debauchery.
As a human, Spike was a lovesick poet who over-cared for his mother and followed vampire Drusilla because she promised a life of poetry and acceptance.
As a soulless vampire, Angel immediately killed his family, then tore the world apart because he wanted everyone to suffer as much pain as possible.
As a soulless vampire, Spike immediately killed his mother so that her tuberculosis could be cured and she could have eternal life...then killed her again when he realized he had turned her into a monster. He tore the world apart because it was fun, and despite his evil nature and two-timing girlfriend, remained monogamously devoted to the woman he loved.
As Buffy's romantic interest, Angel fell into big epic love, wanting to find meaning in her purpose. He never tried to curb her 16-year-old puppy love with his centuries old wisdom, and in fact manipulated her emotions when she had the sense to realize their relationship was doomed.
As Buffy's romantic interest, Spike pursued her for three years because he was so in love with her as an individual, and he died loving her despite never believing he had received her love in return.
As a redeemed vampire, Angel was forced to have a soul by a gypsy curse, and then proceeded to mope around for centuries in alleys eating rats.
As a redeemed vampire, Spike fought to have a soul, suffered a brief lapse of insanity, then went immediately into fighting evil and becoming a man, this time for himself and not just to impress the girl he loved.
Um, is there even a contest? And I barely mentioned Spike's wit, joie de vivre, and general sardonic optimism, contrasted to Angel's constant brooking of "life is just the worst." (Granted, Angel got funnier when he got his own show, though mostly because he started making fun of his own brooding tendencies.)
Spike rules. The end.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Family Friendly vs. Faith Friendly
I read an article in Relevant about the difference between something being family friendly and being faith friendly. I've never thought about that so directly, but it cleared up a lot of random feelings I've been having, now that I listen to WCIC in the mornings and just, you know, living life.
Because I definitely think there's a difference. The Bible is so not family friendly, what with the incest and the chopping up of women into twelve pieces. On a less dramatic note, the Psalms cover all kinds of emotion--rage, doubt, joy, betrayal, peace. A lot of stuff that isn't comfortable to talk about is laid out for us in the Bible.
And since when should faith be comfortable? I mean, I get that WCIC is trying to appeal to a broad audience, but I hope people don't go there for their only spiritual nourishment. Faith goes far deeper than what is appropriate for five-year-old ears.
One thing the article asked was: is it ever okay for curse words to support faith issues? I'm probably biased because I don't think cussing is sinful (I hate cursing that comes from anger, but similarly, I hate any words that are meant to be hurtful). But this is a whole different ball game than "sure, it's not evil." Can cursing be good? And I would say yes. Curse words, at their simplest, are meant to emphasize. And some spiritual topics need emphasis.
This reminds me of one of David Platt's sermons at Union. He said 16,000 children die every day from hunger, and we had damn well better do something about it. Then he paused and continued, "And you know the sad thing? More of you are sitting there thinking about how I said 'damn' than about those 16,000 children who are dying right now."
That's why cursing can be appropriate. It draws your attention, and it sticks with you (or at least it does if you're not used to hearing Baptist preachers curse at the pulpit). No way would I remember that moment if he hadn't said damn.
And that's just cussing! What about violence and sex? Can they ever be faith friendly? Again, I say yes. For a sociology class, a bunch of students watched a movie called Trade. It was about sex traffickers who kidnapped and sold women and children here in American suburbia. There was graphic sex and violence. It was painful to watch.
Which is what is so valuable. Never before had the issue of sex trafficking seemed so dire or so horrendous. Quoting statistics or vaguely describing the situation would not have inspired the disgust that seeing the act did. God tells us over and over again in the Bible to take care of the poor and the broken. I am much more likely to do so after watching Trade than after hearing a lecture. Visual trumps auditory a lot of the time.
Should we watch porn and encourage bloodlust and lace our sentences with f-bombs? No. But I do not believe the answer is to shut out parts of this life that we deem "unsavory." Keep your kids from it, sure, I guess. But I think we're doing ourselves a disservice (and we're definitely doing the world a disservice if we stay in our comfy middle-class homes because we're scared of, or ignorant of, the horrific everyday struggles of so many people on our planet) if we block out everything.
Family friendly is fine. But it's not everything, and it's not enough.
Because I definitely think there's a difference. The Bible is so not family friendly, what with the incest and the chopping up of women into twelve pieces. On a less dramatic note, the Psalms cover all kinds of emotion--rage, doubt, joy, betrayal, peace. A lot of stuff that isn't comfortable to talk about is laid out for us in the Bible.
And since when should faith be comfortable? I mean, I get that WCIC is trying to appeal to a broad audience, but I hope people don't go there for their only spiritual nourishment. Faith goes far deeper than what is appropriate for five-year-old ears.
One thing the article asked was: is it ever okay for curse words to support faith issues? I'm probably biased because I don't think cussing is sinful (I hate cursing that comes from anger, but similarly, I hate any words that are meant to be hurtful). But this is a whole different ball game than "sure, it's not evil." Can cursing be good? And I would say yes. Curse words, at their simplest, are meant to emphasize. And some spiritual topics need emphasis.
This reminds me of one of David Platt's sermons at Union. He said 16,000 children die every day from hunger, and we had damn well better do something about it. Then he paused and continued, "And you know the sad thing? More of you are sitting there thinking about how I said 'damn' than about those 16,000 children who are dying right now."
That's why cursing can be appropriate. It draws your attention, and it sticks with you (or at least it does if you're not used to hearing Baptist preachers curse at the pulpit). No way would I remember that moment if he hadn't said damn.
And that's just cussing! What about violence and sex? Can they ever be faith friendly? Again, I say yes. For a sociology class, a bunch of students watched a movie called Trade. It was about sex traffickers who kidnapped and sold women and children here in American suburbia. There was graphic sex and violence. It was painful to watch.
Which is what is so valuable. Never before had the issue of sex trafficking seemed so dire or so horrendous. Quoting statistics or vaguely describing the situation would not have inspired the disgust that seeing the act did. God tells us over and over again in the Bible to take care of the poor and the broken. I am much more likely to do so after watching Trade than after hearing a lecture. Visual trumps auditory a lot of the time.
Should we watch porn and encourage bloodlust and lace our sentences with f-bombs? No. But I do not believe the answer is to shut out parts of this life that we deem "unsavory." Keep your kids from it, sure, I guess. But I think we're doing ourselves a disservice (and we're definitely doing the world a disservice if we stay in our comfy middle-class homes because we're scared of, or ignorant of, the horrific everyday struggles of so many people on our planet) if we block out everything.
Family friendly is fine. But it's not everything, and it's not enough.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Service Weekend Test Run
I started the first college-led service weekend in a crappy mood, but I'm pleased to say it didn't last long, because of all the awesomeness. No youth showed up, which turned out to be a good thing, because we got to be laidback and spontaneous.
We hung out at the torn apart Rt. 40 house, eating chili and discussing David Platt's Radical. There isn't plumbing at the house yet, so in place of toilets, we had a bucket and gravel. Let me tell you, I was excited to use a glorified kitty litter box. (I'm not even kidding. Even during my pre-weekend funk when I thought the whole thing was stupid, the bucket toilet was the one thing to which I looked forward.) It's the simple things, really. And even better, Josh made a "toilet seat" for me, since I told him on Wednesday that I'm not a fan of hovering. Hahahaahaaa, best gift ever.
Since Westley, Andrea, and Joe weren't spending the night, we decided to just stay at the Wineinger's. I'm pretty sure we all almost died during that five mile drive, what with not being able to see the road at all. But we survived, and stayed up talking about ridiculous and hilarious things until 2:30 in the morning. I miss that.
In the morning, my car wouldn't start. Poor baby Bertha, she is just not a fan of the cold Northern winters. But if ever there is a place to have car trouble, it is at the Wineinger house! Steve and Josh got me fixed up, and I went to work. The Humane Society brought in six trained therapy dogs, and 17 kids had signed up to read to the dogs for fifteen minutes. Um, it was crazy adorable. The kids would sit beside these tranquil dogs, intently reading Dr. Seuss or Harry Potter, one hand holding the book and the other hand lying on the dog's neck.
Best library program ever.
Then I met up with our group at the church, where they had sorted all the clothes we'd collected. We loaded the fifteen passenger van and headed to the Methodist church downtown. We hoped to catch people leaving Loaves and Fishes, but we got there at 1:30. Westley and I found probably eight people, and told them that we had a bunch of winter clothes if anyone wanted anything.
We gave out quite a bit. One woman got a hat and scarf for herself, then agreed to take some stuff for her nieces. One guy broke my heart, because when Westley and I told him about the clothes, he said, "I should be giving you guys stuff! I'm a strong man..." But he did follow us, and he ended up accepting some things.
It was all very cool. I was super pleased that talking to people was not a big deal to me. Westley and I just happened to be sitting closest to the door, so we got that job, and it just wasn't an issue. I am consistently amazed at how much I've changed in the last few years.
We drove around unsuccessfully for awhile after that. No one was outside because it was freaking cold. But we kept everything that was left, and we've got an actual plan laid out for our next trip in a few weeks.
Very encouraging weekend. It feels so good to help people, to talk to people who are so different from me socially, but so much the same on the inside. Can't wait for the 29th.
We hung out at the torn apart Rt. 40 house, eating chili and discussing David Platt's Radical. There isn't plumbing at the house yet, so in place of toilets, we had a bucket and gravel. Let me tell you, I was excited to use a glorified kitty litter box. (I'm not even kidding. Even during my pre-weekend funk when I thought the whole thing was stupid, the bucket toilet was the one thing to which I looked forward.) It's the simple things, really. And even better, Josh made a "toilet seat" for me, since I told him on Wednesday that I'm not a fan of hovering. Hahahaahaaa, best gift ever.
Since Westley, Andrea, and Joe weren't spending the night, we decided to just stay at the Wineinger's. I'm pretty sure we all almost died during that five mile drive, what with not being able to see the road at all. But we survived, and stayed up talking about ridiculous and hilarious things until 2:30 in the morning. I miss that.
In the morning, my car wouldn't start. Poor baby Bertha, she is just not a fan of the cold Northern winters. But if ever there is a place to have car trouble, it is at the Wineinger house! Steve and Josh got me fixed up, and I went to work. The Humane Society brought in six trained therapy dogs, and 17 kids had signed up to read to the dogs for fifteen minutes. Um, it was crazy adorable. The kids would sit beside these tranquil dogs, intently reading Dr. Seuss or Harry Potter, one hand holding the book and the other hand lying on the dog's neck.
Best library program ever.
Then I met up with our group at the church, where they had sorted all the clothes we'd collected. We loaded the fifteen passenger van and headed to the Methodist church downtown. We hoped to catch people leaving Loaves and Fishes, but we got there at 1:30. Westley and I found probably eight people, and told them that we had a bunch of winter clothes if anyone wanted anything.
We gave out quite a bit. One woman got a hat and scarf for herself, then agreed to take some stuff for her nieces. One guy broke my heart, because when Westley and I told him about the clothes, he said, "I should be giving you guys stuff! I'm a strong man..." But he did follow us, and he ended up accepting some things.
It was all very cool. I was super pleased that talking to people was not a big deal to me. Westley and I just happened to be sitting closest to the door, so we got that job, and it just wasn't an issue. I am consistently amazed at how much I've changed in the last few years.
We drove around unsuccessfully for awhile after that. No one was outside because it was freaking cold. But we kept everything that was left, and we've got an actual plan laid out for our next trip in a few weeks.
Very encouraging weekend. It feels so good to help people, to talk to people who are so different from me socially, but so much the same on the inside. Can't wait for the 29th.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
AGGGhh
I am rereading my pre-Senegal blog, and it is just making me pissed at myself. Back then, I was so in touch with God. Even when I was ignoring him, I figured out why, and I saw what he was doing. I was so scared to go to Senegal, and I had this awesome backdrop of Christian classes and Christian friends and Christian roommates to help me through that.
Last December I wrote about being horribly selfish, wasting my days in front of the TV or reading books. I have deluded myself into thinking that I can spend all my time reading because, well, I'm a librarian and it's good to know your product. But no, really, I'm still just horribly selfish.
How did I go to Africa and have this life-changing experience, and then go back to being the same?
It's like I always said when I was in college--Peoria makes me regress. I love it here, but it turns me into an adolescent. I hate that. I hate being boy crazy. I hate struggling between childhood and adulthood. But that's all I do here. Not a good idea to live in your hometown.
But I'm scared that going to Mongolia won't do anything. What if going overseas to kick myself in the butt doesn't work anymore because I look forward to it?
What if I'm supposed to be learning things here in Peoria and I'm so lazy and ugh, living the American dream that I don't even see the lessons or care to follow them?
Why am I so focused on myself? Why aren't I in love with Jesus the way I was? I used to know so confidently that I was put on this earth to glorify him, and that every day was an adventure in which I could know him better. And now? Now I work at the library, mope at home, and drown my sorrows in entertainment.
I'm so ready to move on and live overseas, but I'm so scared that it won't fix anything. As Neil Gaiman said in The Graveyard Book, wherever you go, you take yourself with you (though he was referring to death). I wish there was a way I could leave myself behind.
Last December I wrote about being horribly selfish, wasting my days in front of the TV or reading books. I have deluded myself into thinking that I can spend all my time reading because, well, I'm a librarian and it's good to know your product. But no, really, I'm still just horribly selfish.
How did I go to Africa and have this life-changing experience, and then go back to being the same?
It's like I always said when I was in college--Peoria makes me regress. I love it here, but it turns me into an adolescent. I hate that. I hate being boy crazy. I hate struggling between childhood and adulthood. But that's all I do here. Not a good idea to live in your hometown.
But I'm scared that going to Mongolia won't do anything. What if going overseas to kick myself in the butt doesn't work anymore because I look forward to it?
What if I'm supposed to be learning things here in Peoria and I'm so lazy and ugh, living the American dream that I don't even see the lessons or care to follow them?
Why am I so focused on myself? Why aren't I in love with Jesus the way I was? I used to know so confidently that I was put on this earth to glorify him, and that every day was an adventure in which I could know him better. And now? Now I work at the library, mope at home, and drown my sorrows in entertainment.
I'm so ready to move on and live overseas, but I'm so scared that it won't fix anything. As Neil Gaiman said in The Graveyard Book, wherever you go, you take yourself with you (though he was referring to death). I wish there was a way I could leave myself behind.
My Life as a List
1) A girl with whom I graduated from high school brought her daughter to my story time today. This was very weird, because, well, I avoid people from high school. (I know, horrible idea to work in the Dunlap library.) Also, when I was finally confronted with her, I had to sing to her. And finally, she has a three-year-old. WHAT.
2) I miss college. I miss not having to worry about parents, and just saying, "Hey, let's look for homeless people to feed," and then doing it.
3) I hate being in a position of leadership. I don't like red tape, and I don't like rules, and I don't like bureaucracy. I can avoid those things when it's just me, but apparently they are things that must be dealt with when people's lives are at stake. Or something. I don't know; it displeases me and tires me.
4) I do feel better about the college group at church, though. Because of the two above revelations. And now I've come to see that it is a group that has to answer to people, and I guess it is going to be just another group at the church, and there are rules to go along with it. It will never be as awesome as I want it to be. Now that I am resigned to that, I think I can stop stressing as much.
5) I've been working with the reporter from the Chilli newspaper about the article he's writing on the Dunlap Library. I met him a month ago at a program, and I liked him so much that I told multiple people he was going to be my future husband. He seemed perfect (1. worked for WorldVision over the summer, 2. favorite color is purple and defended it to a kid who called it "girly", 3. settled in to play with the kids, 4. likes LotR, Narnia, and HP, 5. we immediately had this lovely friendly vibe going on). There are other people who share most of these traits, but Brandon is MY AGE, and for a brief moment I thought romance could be something now and not years in the future.
I waited a whole week before internet stalking him, and there I found out he is engaged. Of course, I still had to interact with him for advertisements and stuff, and he came to a couple events where no kids showed, and we two just talked. And his emails were always stupidly friendly. And the whole time we talked I wanted to shout, "I WAS FLIRTING BEFORE. WE ARE NOT FRIENDS. STOP BEING NICE." But I didn't, and I dreaded every time I had to see him.
But I just found out he transferred to Washington news, so I will not see him again!
I am very much a fan of not having my stupidity shoved in my face. There is nothing worse than misreading signals and then having to deal with that ignorance over and over again (like Kevin, oh my word, that was the worst).
6) Okay, I'm done. That's my life today.
2) I miss college. I miss not having to worry about parents, and just saying, "Hey, let's look for homeless people to feed," and then doing it.
3) I hate being in a position of leadership. I don't like red tape, and I don't like rules, and I don't like bureaucracy. I can avoid those things when it's just me, but apparently they are things that must be dealt with when people's lives are at stake. Or something. I don't know; it displeases me and tires me.
4) I do feel better about the college group at church, though. Because of the two above revelations. And now I've come to see that it is a group that has to answer to people, and I guess it is going to be just another group at the church, and there are rules to go along with it. It will never be as awesome as I want it to be. Now that I am resigned to that, I think I can stop stressing as much.
5) I've been working with the reporter from the Chilli newspaper about the article he's writing on the Dunlap Library. I met him a month ago at a program, and I liked him so much that I told multiple people he was going to be my future husband. He seemed perfect (1. worked for WorldVision over the summer, 2. favorite color is purple and defended it to a kid who called it "girly", 3. settled in to play with the kids, 4. likes LotR, Narnia, and HP, 5. we immediately had this lovely friendly vibe going on). There are other people who share most of these traits, but Brandon is MY AGE, and for a brief moment I thought romance could be something now and not years in the future.
I waited a whole week before internet stalking him, and there I found out he is engaged. Of course, I still had to interact with him for advertisements and stuff, and he came to a couple events where no kids showed, and we two just talked. And his emails were always stupidly friendly. And the whole time we talked I wanted to shout, "I WAS FLIRTING BEFORE. WE ARE NOT FRIENDS. STOP BEING NICE." But I didn't, and I dreaded every time I had to see him.
But I just found out he transferred to Washington news, so I will not see him again!
I am very much a fan of not having my stupidity shoved in my face. There is nothing worse than misreading signals and then having to deal with that ignorance over and over again (like Kevin, oh my word, that was the worst).
6) Okay, I'm done. That's my life today.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Don't Even Read This It's Too Random
My car has some snazzy new tires to show off, and I'm $500 in the hole. BUT I am pleased, because there is something very gratifying about buying new tires after one blows out. I know I got all the use I could out of them, so it doesn't seem so bad to get new ones.
I had lunch with the older sister of one of my school friends. She's moving to Rwanda next week, so we talked Africa. It's so nice to hang out with single 20-something year olds who are invested in traveling and helping the world. She even wants to adopt and therefore avoid childbirth!
Every time I say these things, I do realize how narcissistic I sound.
But really, I love me some girl power conversations. (What is with me and the "I love me" or "I hate me"? That's not even clever English manipulation. Bad Tricia!) It's nice to have someone else reiterate how impossible it is to find a guy in Peoria who wants to live overseas. And it's nice to hear that someone else is not going to sit around and wait for a guy when there is a world to explore and lives to better! (Even though if the right guy asked, I totally would, because I HAVE NOT KILLED THE ROMANTIC IN ME after all.)
I was also thinking about how people frequently ask whether you're dating or married. Which, I'm sorry, is ridiculous. Is someone's relationship status more important than their contribution to the world? Nope, choking that rant off before I even begin.
And I'm only saying these things because I really wish there were boys around. I don't even need one to complete my life. I'm happy with my goals and such. I just want one so people will stop bugging me, and also because it would be nice to know that one person thinks I'm the bomb diggity. But that is selfish, so, whatever.
Oh man, there is no rhyme or reason to this post.
Also, I watched the Christmas Glee episode, with Grinch!Sue, and it was awesome. I got all excited for Christmas, and then I remembered that I've got to wait 11 months before that comes around again.
I'm only still writing because I'm waiting for Stephanie to reply to me on facebook. Oh, okay, there she is. My life isn't interesting enough to continue talking about anyway.
I had lunch with the older sister of one of my school friends. She's moving to Rwanda next week, so we talked Africa. It's so nice to hang out with single 20-something year olds who are invested in traveling and helping the world. She even wants to adopt and therefore avoid childbirth!
Every time I say these things, I do realize how narcissistic I sound.
But really, I love me some girl power conversations. (What is with me and the "I love me" or "I hate me"? That's not even clever English manipulation. Bad Tricia!) It's nice to have someone else reiterate how impossible it is to find a guy in Peoria who wants to live overseas. And it's nice to hear that someone else is not going to sit around and wait for a guy when there is a world to explore and lives to better! (Even though if the right guy asked, I totally would, because I HAVE NOT KILLED THE ROMANTIC IN ME after all.)
I was also thinking about how people frequently ask whether you're dating or married. Which, I'm sorry, is ridiculous. Is someone's relationship status more important than their contribution to the world? Nope, choking that rant off before I even begin.
And I'm only saying these things because I really wish there were boys around. I don't even need one to complete my life. I'm happy with my goals and such. I just want one so people will stop bugging me, and also because it would be nice to know that one person thinks I'm the bomb diggity. But that is selfish, so, whatever.
Oh man, there is no rhyme or reason to this post.
Also, I watched the Christmas Glee episode, with Grinch!Sue, and it was awesome. I got all excited for Christmas, and then I remembered that I've got to wait 11 months before that comes around again.
I'm only still writing because I'm waiting for Stephanie to reply to me on facebook. Oh, okay, there she is. My life isn't interesting enough to continue talking about anyway.
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