ramblings of a disorganized college student

I've moved!

2010-01-04T13:05:00.001-05:00

Well, it has come the time to close up shop and move to another blog. If you want, you can find me at:

http://onceaweekatleast.wordpress.com

Sinking gut feeling.

2009-12-23T13:54:00.003-05:00

Have you ever had that feeling where your gut goes up and down at the same time? That's what's going on right now. I got a call from someone who was telling me her husband passed away. He came into the office frequently, loved us all so much, etc. She was absolutely precious. She asked me to take him off our records. We hung up the phone. I missed her husband's name. I didn't want to ask for it again. But the phone dropped out JUST AS SHE SAID THE NAME. Oh my goodness. I feel absolutely terrible. If I asked for it, I didn't want her to think I didn't know who he was. I feel absolutely horrible.

It gets worse.

I get out our little telephone code book. "CALL TRACING". PERFECT! I'll just get the number, do a reverse look up, and voila. I figure out who called.

Wrong-o.

I do it, then come to find out it flags their number as a "HARASSING NUMBER".

Oh.
Great.

FedEx = Mothership?

2009-12-21T15:55:00.004-05:00

It has been awhile. Lots of time elapsed. Here is my thought for today:

When I call FedEx to schedule a pick up, this is what I noticed. In between the robotic lady asking me questions in a very congenial tone, there are these little rhythmic sounding beeps. I don't like calling FedEx because of this. You know why? Because it sounds like the alien noises from the movie, Signs. I think this movie was underrated. Apparently, it wasn't scary enough. Maybe so, but I will never look at a glass of water or baby monitors the same ever again. FedEx boopities, you sound like the Aliens. No, thank you.

I'm on my soapbox.

2009-05-19T10:08:00.001-04:00

In the beginning when God created the world, it was good. He looked around and saw that there was no evil, no pain, no suffering. The lion played with the lamb. Even nature in was in its most holy and pure form. Since the fall of man at Adam and Eve, nature and God's creation of man has been groaning for redemption. That is why Jesus, who was completely God and also completely man, came to earth to die for the unredeemed creation. So that one day when he returns, he will redeem man and nature; returning them to their original place of holiness and purity. Until the day when Jesus comes back, this fallen earth will continue to go in its trajectory of sin and deprivation. It is working backwards from what God's original plan was. But luckily, our eternal redemption has been secured as Christians through Jesus' death. By recognizing that He is the solar around which our souls must orbit, that He is the only way to eternal life, we are redeemed and our slates are wiped clean. Our "record" has been expunged. Through the suffering in this world, we see the effects of sin and as Christians, suffering does not stay away from us - it effects us the way it does anyone else.

However, we have hope in this terrible world. Jesus said, "take heart, for I have overcome the world." With this hope, we are to be lights in a dark world. In Isaiah it says, "And I will lead the blind in a way that they do not know, in paths that they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These are the things I do, and I do not forsake them." He doesn't forsake us amidst our suffering. Our suffering is what brings us to Him. He NEVER forsakes us. It is hard to understand though - if this all powerful God can make your rough places into level ground, why doesn't He just make the world redeemed again? To bring glory to Himself. He wants people to chose to love Him. He is a jealous God - rightly so - and demands your all. Even though we are saved, He does demand that we honor Him and love Him before anything else in this world. There is a standard that we are called to...even though we will fail, we still have to try. Just because we know He loves us does not mean that we can take advantage of that love and coast on a road of apathy. He does expect from us, but the beauty of it is that when you give your life to God, you want to love Him and out of that love comes an outpouring of obedience. However, loving Him is a discipline. It requires the study of Him through the Bible, prayer, and community. There is a God - who has pursued you, me, and everyone on this planet as He knit you in the mother's womb. He beauty and love can be found in the pure things in life without the distortion of an evil world. A sunset, a song, a friendship, a good steak, laughter between friends, sex between a husband and wife. The list goes on. God is present and pursuing - but just as He created man to be the pursuer and women to be the pursued, He wants to be pursued as well. He wants us to ask, seek, and knock. He is more than willing to answer, be found, and answer the door.

Natural Disasters

2009-02-17T22:44:00.002-05:00

Well, it is now time for my monthly post. It seems that it will happen this way for the time being. Being a disorganized college student who is trying to get organized, life hits you fast. (That was not a plug for Nationwide insurance.) Things have been busy. Actually, hectic is a more accurate word. I feel as though the days pass me in a blur, just anxious to get on to the next one. When I look at the constant things around me that never change, it is strangely comforting. I like coming home and knowing that my bed will be in the same place that I left it. My lamp remains on my nightstand. The mirror stays on the wall. The toothpaste and toothbrush are in the pretty porcelain bowl by my sink.

What if there was an earthquake?

Would my life fall apart if I came home to my mattress skewed on my bedframe, my lamp broken on my floor, the mirror off the wall, the porcelain bowl smashed on my fake marble sink. Would my life unravel because I couldn't handle the chaos?

I put away the unsettling thought. I am comforted. I look around at my floor. Clothes, purses, remote, bookbag, yesterday's choice of perfume, a PlayStation memory card, a plate. I would be fine if an earthquake came. It always looks like a tornado blazed through no matter what day it is.

I'm working on this. Promise.

I should be working. But I'm judgmental and need to process it.

2009-01-22T18:07:00.004-05:00

Classes have commenced. The first snow of the year fell. The train still shakes my bed at night. I went to the grocery store and gawked at my $93.47 bill. Really? It was just a bag of spinach, bread, peanut butter, organic apples, organic milk, and some cereal bars that taste like plastic. Ok, maybe it was more than that. But still. Almost $100 and I didn't even have the luxury of looking like those people with the carts piled high that everyone judges. Oh, just admit it. You know you judge them. You look in their cart and you scan their goods spilling out off the sides and the big cans of Coke and toilet paper on the bottom of the cart which is serving as a carnival ride for their skinny little 5 year old. You think, "Ew, Kraft Mayonnaise? Really? Hot Pockets? Your other children must be fat." And then you go on your merry way. But then you look in your cart and it isn't much better. It is just JIF Mayonnaise and Croissant Pockets. Then you feel guilty. But I think it is a healthy guilt. I know I shouldn't think that badly of other people. I don't know them. I can't judge their hearts or their pallets.

Everything is still the same. Even when the train stops running, the grocery prices go down, the snow melts, and the classes let out for summer. Everything is still the same because the person with the full cart needs to be loved. I should be working, but I'm still loved even if I don't do my homework or my finances. I'm glad everything is still the same. I've got a God that loves me even when I judge the girl that wears tights and miniskirts in the snow or when I judge the person at the grocery store. Thankfully, He died for me. Everything is the same in my world.

Because the only thing that really matters is the only consistent and constant thing ever to exist or come into being. And He loves me.

I'm also probably the only one that judges people with full grocery carts. I hope you don't take offense to this post if you use Kraft Mayonnaise and Hot Pockets. Because I have definitely had both in my cart before. Oh, what a wretch I am.

the condensation of atmospheric water vapor falling on the earth's surface makes me feel alive.

2008-08-26T22:37:00.004-04:00

Life. What a funny thing you are. Every day you are different but always essentially the same. Why do I love you so much? Why do I wish you would go away sometimes? I don't have good answers for these questions. All I know is that I walked in the rain tonight. I felt it fall on my face and clothes. It washed away the day's grime. It is a seemingly meaningless moment in my life that I will cherish for awhile. I will think back on that moment in the rain and smile. Why? Because it is my life. Because it is during all of those inconsequential times that I realize how lucky I am to be alive.

So, thanks God, for the rain. It made me feel a little more alive today.

breathing, part two.

2008-08-18T16:05:00.002-04:00

I haven't experienced a thunderstorm in my new house. Did you catch that? Yes, my new house. I have a place of my own. It is an incredible feeling to walk around a place that is yours and only yours. I like being alone. Normally I get my energy from being with people. I have found that I have really enjoyed staying at my house and being by myself. My home is peaceful. It arrived with no memories of its own. It was just built a few weeks ago. The only footprints left in my cheap carpet were made by people I love. My family walked through it as they helped me move, and my closest friends came in to help me fold laundry and say "pretty!" when they walked in the door. It is a sweet place. A surprisingly pink place, as well. I really feel like a grown woman now.

The other night I crawled into my new bed and ate cereal from a blue Dixie cup. Ecstasy.

breathe.

2008-06-22T22:51:00.002-04:00

It is raining. I hear it from inside my little room. I'm not in my regular house. It is a new place to me. The owners are in the Bahamas. I'm watering their plants, sleeping in their bed, and making sure no burglars come and get their stuff - although the most important stuff (aka the scuba diving gear) was taken away with them on their trip. I'm lonely. It is a lonely night. I'm happy with that. Sometimes it is good to just get away from the noise of the world and be by yourself. Just to listen to the rain water the plants I watered this morning. I hope they don't drown. I can't wait to experience a thunderstorm like this in my own house. Hopefully I won't be lonely. Even if I just have a big dog that is afraid of storms, I would be content with that.

The rain will help me sleep tonight. It will remind me that tomorrow will be a new day. Probably a very humid day, but a new one, nonetheless.

And that is the kind of news I need to hear right now.

situation manipulation, part 1

2008-06-18T14:47:00.002-04:00

I am not assertive. I don't make decisions. Granted, I do place a lot of value in decisions but overall I hate making them. Most of the time I just like to be. I like other people to take charge.

Shall we now cue Emily and Kendra? I think so.

They are marvelous women. Creative, cute, friendly...the list goes on. Both of them have that "it" factor. The factor that makes you watch them and think to yourself, "Wow. I want to be in their club. I want to be their sister or friend or (if you are a man) husband or (if you are a mother-in-law with an appropriately aged son) daughter-in-law." Recently, they performed the situation manipulation. It was very enjoyable. They were assertive for me in a very awkward social situation by prodding, encouraging, and sometimes forcing. But what would I have done without them? I certainly would not have had nearly as much fun. They are very good situation manipulators. Emily can capture the situation manipulation moments on camera. Then she can email them to you without anyone knowing. Kendra can encourage the conversation along and try to get you in prime situations as well as give you pointers and pep talks.

Today, think about your situation manipulators. These are the people that love you so much that they would take time out of their day to make your day happier or make that dream-like moment come true. Thank you, Kendra and Emily. Thank you for being assertive, encouraging, and at times - forceful. I needed that this weekend. :)

the pink tree with the flowers on it.

2008-06-12T15:46:00.002-04:00

Things have changed. Lots of changes. New major, new friends, no boyfriend, new responsibilities at work, new attitude, new clothes, I went to New York!

I'm dying my hair.

Today, one of my favorite patients entered the office. I would love to tell you her name, but that would be a violation of HIPAA. She is 92, loves the Lord, and is the biggest fireball you will ever meet. "Violet" was enraptured by the pink tree outside the window. It wasn't a dogwood, it isn't some weird bush. It is a large tree with beautiful pink blossoms on it. During the Winter she would have been able to identify it, but now that the blossoms are there it is throwing her off. I love this tree. It is a reminder that just because different colored blossoms appear on this tree that people aren't used to...doesn't mean that they love the tree any less.

I am trying to make myself not feel guilty for needing an after-break-up makeover. A lot of people don't want me to dye my hair, but it is a much-needed thing that needs to occur. I need a change. Even though there have been a good amount of changes around me, I want some changes to occur WITH me. I guess I want to have control of this change.

Yesterday I went and hiked a 5.3 mile trail. That is hardcore for me. I don't do the outdoors. But I did it and loved it. I never take risks. I never do anything that will really rock the boat because I don't want to disappoint anyone. But I need to rock the boat every now and then. As long as I'm not sinning against God - I'm golden. I can rock the boat by hiking, walking in the rain, wearing my dress two days in a row just because I like it. Tonight, I am rocking the boat by going blonde. Does this make the tree less recognizable? Yes. Does this make the tree and sucky-life tree? No. Welcome, newly colored blossoms!

Look at me! I'm Evangeline!

2008-04-10T15:13:00.001-04:00

MyHeritage: Celebrity Morph - Dynasty - Family history

Finish line.

2008-04-07T15:28:00.003-04:00

Well, it has happened. I am actually finishing something. See, I have this thing where I back out of things when they get overwhelming or sad. Simply because I believe I can't do it.

There's the rub. I can't do it.

There is no way that I can get through Music School. You know why? Because I can't do it alone. And I am not alone. I have this great God who has my back all the time. He gets me through it. He gave me the talent, now I need to use it.

So, please really-scary-advisor...don't be mad at me when I say, "Hey, I changed my mind. How about helping me figure out a new schedule?"

This doesn't have a clever title.

2008-04-03T15:55:00.002-04:00

Have you ever watched The Andy Griffith Show or Gilmore Girls and longed for that small town feel? After watching shows like that, I crave companionship. I want to go get a coffee from Luke - bad example. Who wouldn't want to get a cup of coffee from Luke? Okay, restart. I want to go to the barber's shop or the police station and have people know my name. I want to have a cute little town named "Mayberry" or "Stars Hollow" and wave at people that know me. But more than anything, I want to walk in a restaurant and be a "regular". I want "Patsy" the waitress to know that I like flimsy bacon, over-easy eggs, and grits with no butter. (I totally just pulled that out of my rear, by the way. I usually don't eat breakfast unless my sister makes it for me. Speaking of her, she's a great cook! You should take her cooking classes!)

Anyways.

Myself, along with my boyfriend, have achieved this feat. In Greensboro, North Carolina. Sure. It isn't as great as a barber shop, but Steak 'n Shake will do. The Steak 'n Shake on Lawndale Drive is our place of choice. We go there for about 50% of our dates. The rest goes to the bowling alley. However, you have to go at night, when Brandon's shift starts. Brandon is our friend. He works 70 hours a week, has a girlfriend that wants him to quit, and has the brightest smile on this planet. We also love Pam, Bryce, and Michael. Michael makes my Raspberry smoothie and has Jason Castro dreds. Pam tells Justin he shouldn't have that much ranch on his salad because it will make his cholesterol go up. Bryce has bad posture because she is uncomfortable with being almost 6 feet tall. And Brandon. Brandon just talks to us and gives us coupons. And he tells us what his schedule is so we can come back and see him. I love Brandon, Pam, Michael, and Bryce. They are my night shift family. When we come in, Brandon puts us in the same booth. He also puts on a fresh pot of decaf coffee, because he knows Justin works at Starbucks and wants him to not be disappointed in Steak 'n Shake coffee. Brandon also won Best Employee of the Month in May of 2007. I think he should be employee of the year.

So here's to you, Night Shift. May your nights be short, your days be long and restful, and may your milkshakes overflow. In a good way, not a messy way.

My Umbrella, Ella, Ella, Ella.

2008-04-01T23:40:00.005-04:00

It is Monday. A dreary and wet Monday. A monsoon Monday. My sister bought me an adorable umbrella for my birthday two years ago. It is black and white and has a vintage print. It is my pride and joy while walking under its protection in the wind and rain. It is compact. It fits in my purse just right. I love my umbrella.

*pause*

If you are one of those people that struggles with pooping in public places, this post is especially for you. I feel like everyone has bathroom anxiety in one shape or form. Whether it is the germs, actually using a public restroom, or just feeling anxious about the little boy that is out of control who peaks under your stall. I have major bathroom anxiety. Yes, this is a little embarrassing, but necessary for you to understand the rest of my story.

*resume*

The story starts with another embarrassing part about me. I have nervous pooping issues. When I get nervous, my system gets moving to an obnoxious and embarrassing extent. That Monday morning, I had an exam at 11am. At 10:30 or so, I get that feeling. I head to the bathroom. Upon my arrival, I notice all the women in the bathroom at the moment have rested their backpacks, purses, coats, etc. up against the wall across from their respective stalls. Seems like a good idea, right? I'm one of those germ bathroom anxiety people. (Among all of the other bathroom anxieties that I have acquired over the years.) No germs on my coat. Hooray for me. I set my coat on top of my bookbag and purse and then place my lovely umbrella on top.

Well, here it goes. I'm in the stall. Waiting for everyone to leave. They leave. I'm almost finished with my business when I hear someone coming in. To spare them of the awkward and uncomfortable situation, I pause my bathroom visit. They don't use the bathroom, though. They just come in, walk in front of the stalls, and then go wash their hands. I assume, They must have problems just like me! Maybe they had to poop too and couldn't because I was here! Well, they leave. I finish. 28 seconds later, I walk out of my stall.

No umbrella.

They freaking stole my umbrella. My pride. My waterproof joy. My comfort blanket. My reason to feel unique in a sea of rainbow dots on a black canvas, which is what everyone uses on the UNCG campus - I'm convinced. I felt so violated. I felt so angry. I felt so annoyed because I wish I had just pooped while they were in there and made them feel miserable and awkward so they got some kind of punishment. But I didn't. I had to be the anxious bathroom girl.

By the time I walked to my car, which felt like 5 miles away, my purse was ruined. My sweatshirt was soaked as well as my coat. My make-up had washed off my face. My shoes were wet. My socks were wet. My jeans were wet. And lets not talk about the fact that my bookbag had soaked up the rainwater by way of my books and computer.

So, thank you, dear Thief-False-Bathroom-Anxiety Person, for making my day miserable. For robbing my joy. At least you didn't get wet on Monday. If I see you with my umbrella near the School of Music, I will approach you and say, "My name is Hannah Joyner. You stole my brella. Prepare to die."

Just kidding.

One good thing out of this story. I bought a new umbrella, ella, ella, ella from Teerget. Its pretty. Its classy. Here is a picture.

Teerget.

2008-03-17T14:58:00.003-04:00

In the spirit of springtime and daylight savings time, I decided to look at bathing suits. Granted, I hate shopping for bathing suits. It makes my security in my body drop dramatically. However, I was with a friend. I had moral support. I was at Target. I was feeling good. I even pulled a cute little two piece off the shelf. And then...

...I met the Teerget lady.

Anyone ever seen the SNL sketch of Kristen Wigg doing the Teerget lady? It is mahvelous. However, this Teerget lady was not. The SNL Teerget lady is obnoxious, but at least she is friendly. The real life Teerget lady was the stereotypical lady at the counter. Bad make-up, even worse hair. But I tried not to judge. I was going to be friendly! She did have about 49 bathing suits to put back on the hanger and 13 year old girls were loading them onto the carts beside her in droves. She was also in her 60's and probably just wanted to go enjoy the pretty weather outside like any other person.

Me: "Hi! How are you doing today?"

T.L. : "How many?"

Me: Ouch. Tinker, tinker, tinker, trying to count fast. I'm no good at math! Poop! She's already getting frustrated! "Um...I have 9." Whew.

T.L. : "You can only have 4 bathing suits..."

Okay. So maybe this story isn't the best story. I don't remember what she said because Target has THE most ridiculous bathing suit/try-on policy I've ever heard in my life. I still don't get it. But I was so frustrated! I couldn't understand what she was saying and every time I tried to take clothes back she FLIPPED OUT. Apparently, I look like shop lifter. Yeah. Okay. What a thugmuffin I am in my little black t-shirt and jeans and homemade button necklace with my hair in french braid pigtails. I mean, really, lady. I am not going to try on these bathing suits and hide them in my clothes or my purse that looks like a bowling ball bag. I will return them to you WITH the hanger attached to save you the trouble. Because YOU look like you've had a pretty crappy day. And I would like to be nice and make you happy. But, no. You won't let people make you happy.

I had a conversation with her, (actually, it was me role-playing with myself in the dressing room)
and I told her that I hope she found Jesus because He could soften her heart and make streams of living water flow out of her. In my role-playing, we hugged and she let me take my 9 articles of clothing in the dressing room.

How was your Valentine's Day?

2008-02-18T15:38:00.003-05:00

Last night at my small group, my leader asked all of us how our Valentine's Day was. One girl's mom had sent her package saying, "It's okay to be single on Valentine's Day." Ouch. Another girl had a romantic evening with her boyfriend...another ate dinner with friends...etc. Then it came around to me. "Oh, I went to the doctor and two excruciating shots later, had one third of my nasty ingrown toenail removed. Then I threw up all night because I am apparently allergic to Hydrocodone. Yummy." There is nothing better than vomiting the Valentine's dinner that your boyfriend made you.

But you know what? I don't care.

I mean, my toe hurts and I felt horrible because my mom had to come pick me up from my little dorm at 3:30 in the morning. But the fact that it was Valentine's Day didn't really matter to me. I'm not sure why we have to have a holiday to tell each other why we love one another. Shouldn't we celebrate the people around us all the time? My family (and some friends) laugh at me because I tell them I love them all the time. An abnormal amount of times. But I think people should be celebrated. I mean really, you are in love with your husband or wife. So on Valentine's Day, you go to Harris Teeter and buy them a helium balloon with a teddy bear on it that says "I LOVE YOU HONEY". Really? This is a token of your love? Just celebrate the people you love every day. Don't feel like you have to have an excuse to tell someone you love them. When I say that, I mean that people rarely just say "I love you" just because they feel that way. It usually happens when you are ending a conversation, saying goodnight, maybe you married couples say it when you wake up in the morning...I don't know. But I do know that Valentine's Day isn't the big deal that our consumerist society makes it out to be. So, I hope you all had a nice Valentine's Day. And don't forget...you don't need a holiday to celebrate your love.

I love you.

taking a stand is hard when you just want to sit down and be quiet.

2008-01-24T15:08:00.000-05:00

I am taking two classes that are not music classes. One of those classes is a speech intensive course which is called "Women's and Gender Studies". It is comprised of 17 women, 1 terrified man, and 2 female professors. One of those professors has recently made me feel inferior and a terrible person. Now I know that "no one can make you feel anything unless you let them" blahblahblah. It is hard when a 50-something old woman looks you straight in the eye and says, "Now class, we can't pick on her because she doesn't believe what we believe." I mean, really. Isn't there some law about this?

The first day of class we all pushed our desks to the sides of the room and stood in a big circle. Kinda freaky. I felt like I was in some weird ritual. I can't imagine how the guy must have felt. The professor, who I will call "Tangela" to protect her privacy, began telling us how we would get to know one another. "These are all strangers right now," she said softly and reverently, "but not for long." She took a long pause. All of us waiting for her next word. My contacts started to dry out a little bit because I hadn't shut my eyes - I was so intent on finding out what she was going to say next.

"All republicans go to this corner, all democrats to that one, and independents stay in the middle of the room."

Oh, really? Hm. I feel like that's personal. Looks like I'm 1 of 2 Republicans. "Left handed go in this corner, right in that one." Oh, good. Looks like I'm 1 of 2 lefties. "Religious affiliated private schools vs. public." Looks like I'm 1 of 3. "Now do you really think you are better off because God was taught in your classroom??" First girl: "No. I hate Nuns." Second girl: "No, I don't really care." Me: "UMMMM." scuffs foot on floor. breathes deeply. prays for strength directly from Jesus. "Yes. I do, Tangela. I think I did benefit from having God in my classroom." SILENCE. "Okay, pregnant women, divorced moms, singles...find your corners."

That was hard. It was my first college experience where I felt like I had to take a stand for what I believe in and I got persecuted for it. It is a 3 hour night class so we have breaks in between hour and half sessions. I've tried to start conversations with people but it just hasn't happened. The only time anyone has talked to me, so far, is when Heath Ledger died. I guess he brings people together. Hm.

I think this is a good thing, though. God is teaching me to take up my cross and follow Him ... even when my teacher scares me. And even when I don't want to. I wish that I could have said, "Heck, yes. I love God. He's awesome. He loves you just as much as He loves me. Even though you bash the Bible, and say that God is a male chauvinist. And yes. I love my private Christian school." Take that, Tangela. Even then, that's not a very loving response. Maybe it is just in the subtleties that I will take a stand. Like saying, "Yes. I think I did benefit from having God in my classroom."

Last class, she had the following quote written on the board:
"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." - Eleanor Roosevelt.

As my dear Alanis would sing...

Isn't it ironic.
Dontcha think.
A little too ironic.

falling streamers and pointless champagne.

2007-12-28T14:09:00.000-05:00

I am sad. Normally, I'm really not a sad person. But the past couple of days, I have been sad. I'm ready for the new year to start. But really, when you think about it, nothing is going to change. It's just like birthdays. Your birthday comes and goes and nothing really happens - you just feel older, look older, and feel the pressure to maintain looking 25 or younger. Time just keeps going on. Life keeps marching on. Even when things happen that are sad and earth shattering for some, "the world spins madly on," as The Weepies would put it. The new year will come. I'll wake up on January 1st, and I won't feel any different. I will break the resolutions that I make. I will fail and probably fail miserably at the new exercise program or "eat healthy" promise I will make to myself. But that's okay. Because this is not my home. There won't be any pain or crying or failing where my real home is. People won't hurt, people won't die, and there won't be any sadness. I'm ready for Heaven. This year's resolution won't be about dieting or saving money or believing I can be a better person. It will be about thinking eternally, and living life so I can store treasures in my real home. It will be about pleasing the One who is preparing a place for me to rest. One who wipes my tears, counts the hairs on my head, and whispers to my heart - no matter what time of year - This one is Mine.

flossing my life

2007-12-19T11:01:00.000-05:00

I went to the dentist the other day. I hate going to the dentist. It stresses me out, and I have an abnormal fear of the dentist coming in with a long needle, dripping with some anesthesia, and saying, "I'm sorry, but you have a cavity. We must drill. Here, have some Novocaine." Needle goes in and I cry out in agony. This has never happened to me, but I'm convinced it will some day.

Anyways, I went in. I like my dentist's office. The room is bright and cheery with pictures of happy people because they don't have gingivitis or plaque. Their teeth are abnormally white because "They love their local dentist", and the pictures give me an odd feeling that makes me think - I might look that good when I get out of the chair. They have a television hanging from the ceiling which is always turned to ABC Family so you can watch reruns of "Sabrina, the Teenage Witch" or "Step By Step", while they scrape the crap off of your teeth.

Disclaimer: I'm not sure if they call the people that clean your teeth nurses or technicians, but it took two tries for me to spell "technicians" right, so I'm going to go with nurse.

The nurse started cleaning my teeth. It took - cue "Sandlot" kid voice - FOREVER. I watched one and a half episodes of "Sabrina" before she started the polishing process. Then it got me thinking, Wow. I have a lot of plaque. Maybe I should start flossing more often. I know that's gross, but this story ends up being redemptive - promise. Then I took the flossing idea way farther than it probably should've been taken, but oh well. Paul/Jesus tells me that I should take my thoughts captive. That is flossing my brain. I floss my brain to prevent the thoughts from taking hold. However, I've just been brushing. The thoughts come, but I don't take them captive. I don't necessarily act on them, but the thoughts remain and build up, just like my nasty plaque, and then Jesus, the ever so patient dentist, has to come and scrape away my sinful thought life and it takes awhile to get back to normal. He doesn't mind - that's what He loves to do - but He would be pretty excited if I kept "flossing" so the crap wouldn't build up.

I'm trying to apply this spiritually. To remind myself to take my thoughts captive, I'm keeping my trial size box of floss in my jacket pocket. I also floss before I go to bed. Nice.

Side note: I started wearing my retainer again because I wanted to take my mouth to the next level. I tried to think of a cool spiritual metaphor for that, but then I'd be trying to be cool and spiritual and want people to think "Wow, she's cool. She applies her pink, sparkly retainer back to Jesus in a way that applies to my life too! I want to be in her club." That's not going to happen. And I don't need to try hard, because that's, well, quite fake and not honest. SO all I have to say about retainer is - my teeth hurt like poop.

"rum pum pum pum" says the little drummer boy.

2007-11-27T15:13:00.000-05:00

I love Christmas. I love the smells and the lights and the family activities. When I say family, I don't mean extended family. Not that I don't love my extended family...I do tremendously. It is just that things get a little stressful when I go to my grandmother's house one night and then to my grandfather's house (whom she is no longer married to) the next night. Same people, different grandparent. Gets a little weird.

Anyways, I love Christmas.

Another thing I love (when I can't get to Starbucks and get a 6-pump, grande, Pumpkin Spice Latte) is hot chocolate. I love it. It warms my body. Makes me feel happy inside. Last night my mom and I decided to be spontaneous and drive to Target to buy the new Josh Groban Christmas CD. I was so very excited. On our way home, we decided that we were going to get our pajamas on and listen to it by the fire. AH! It felt like Christmas. What an amazing feeling. I had these visions of mom and I crying by the fire together, wrapped up in a big quilt, enjoying the effortless Josh serenading us with praises to Baby Jesus.

That is not what transpired.

We got home. Changed clothes. I decide to make hot chocolate to complete my Christmas vision. The only kind we had was a can of Crate & Barrel White Hot Chocolate mix. Well, I figured it was Crate & Barrel so it had to be good. Not so much. It tasted like hot milk with sugar in it. (Which, I guess, is exactly what hot chocolate really is. But that is besides the point.) I had to pour it out, which made me sad. Mom sat on the couch with a magazine. I sat in the recliner and pulled out my Child Development and Psychology homework. Wasn't quite the Christmas vision that had conjured itself up in my head, but that's okay. Then, "The Little Drummer Boy" came on. It is simply the most beautiful Christmas arrangement I've ever heard. I felt like it just kept getting better and better. And THEN they added the bagpipes. I mean, really. You can't get much better than that. All in all, it still felt like Christmas. And now I know more about children's fine motor development skills from ages 5-8.

the corpse bride

2007-11-14T13:15:00.000-05:00

She loves to dance. Her dress flows around her as she spins around in ecstasy. She cannot wait to be married, and adjusts her veil and dress obsessively. Everything must be perfect. The flowers, the church, the guests - nothing can be out of place. She loves to walk through the woods at night and dreams of her love. Sometimes, she hears her wedding march in the forest and thinks it is her imagination. But it sounds so real. It is so real. She walks down the path overtaken by leaves and roots, pretending it is her aisle. She holds a bouquet of wild flowers to complete her dream. Everything becomes hopeful - the wedding is almost here. Time to walk to the chapel!

"Oh, wait," she sighs. "I'm dead."

Dun, dun, dun. This is the corpse bride.

Last night, I did not watch this movie. But I had this image in my head. I was writing a piano composition, for my audition to the music school, and this story popped into my head. The piece is very melancholy - haunting, actually - and it becomes hopeful, and then she realizes she is dead. And it is melancholy once more. I love the story. I love the composition. I hope that listeners can hear the rise and fall of the corpse bride. No pun intended. When I make it the theme for the academy award-winning movie that I'll compose, I hope you - my delightful readers - will remember the story of the corpse bride. Most of all, remember that feeling of, "Oh, wait. I'm dead."

college: time to really live it up?

2007-11-13T15:23:00.000-05:00

"Those four years were the best of my life."
"Don't let it slip away, college is where you have fun and meet people."

That may be true for some people. It is not true for me. I enjoy the age I am at right now. I enjoy the fact that I am kind of on my own. I do not enjoy the fact that I live in a dorm room. That I am forced to eat in my bed because there is no other place to sit down. I don't like that at 3:30am I am awoken by the oh-so-drunken cries of the sorority sisters all over the hall screaming, "OH MY GOSH, BROOKE! WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!?!" *GIGGLE, GIGGLE, GIGGLE* Or when I hear rhythmic smacks against my walls above and beside me from premarital sexual intercourse occurring. I don't appreciate the loud rap music that booms against my window at night. Or the dump truck that rolls in at 8am sharp - every morning - to get rid of the stinky trash in the stinky dumpster outside my building's door. I don't like that I am awoken by someone else's alarm every morning. I don't like that I have to wear shoes in the shower. Or freeze in frightened alarm when I hear a male voice booming in front of my curtain, "Hey babe, which shower do I go into?" In that case, I don't like having to hastily put on my robe, pretend that I am not naked and dripping wet, and hurry out of the shower while some 20-something is ogling at the girl in the short, blue robe.

But then, I think about how blessed I am. I can go to college. I am getting an education. I can live on campus. I am not drunken naked girl. Then, I feel a little better about my college experience.

2010, how I await for your arrival, though.

of fallen leaves and twinkle lights.

2007-11-12T13:31:00.000-05:00

I love cold. I love the smell that you can only smell on a frigid night. I love when you can see your breath, and the stars twinkle like they are winking down at you. I love sitting outside, wrapped up in a blanket, and then looking down at my hands and seeing how red and chapped they are. But they are numb, so it doesn't really matter that they are chapped. I love walking on crunchy leaves that have fallen from their little homes in the trees. I love watching the stars fall across the sky and making silly wishes on them.

What I really love is enjoying these things, and then realizing that the same thing that created me has also created my favorite fallen leaves and twinkle lights. Then I think about this.

If I was the only person on the world, Jesus would die for just me. He would do it all over again, just because He loves me that much. I think that this fact transcends our salvation, though. If I were the only person on earth, He would still create a beautiful world for me to live in. He wouldn't leave out the different trees and stars and seasons. He would create them all so I could enjoy them. The main reason why He created the world as He did was to bring glory to Him. But I think He wanted us to enjoy His glory. That's why I love fall. Because I love God. I see His handiwork in this earth. Fallen leaves and twinkle lights speak my heart language. They make me feel special. Because they remind me that Jesus delights in me because He loves me. The stars fade, but new ones are reborn. The leaves fall, but they grow back. You can see Christ's resurrection story in nature. You can see how we are like those old naked trees before Jesus gets a hold of us. Then we are transformed and are turned into beautiful trees with blossoms and full of life. "Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow out within him."

16The trees of the LORD drink their fill,
The cedars of Lebanon which He planted,
17Where the birds build their nests,
And the stork, whose home is the fir trees.
18The high mountains are for the wild goats;
The cliffs are a refuge for the shephanim.
19He made the moon for the seasons;
The sun knows the place of its setting.
32He looks at the earth, and it trembles;
He touches the mountains, and they smoke.
33I will sing to the LORD as long as I live;
I will sing praise to my God while I have my being.

-Psalm 104: 16-19, 32-33

grace is my middle name.

2007-11-09T14:09:00.000-05:00

The other day, I was sitting in my inappropriate and obnoxious Earth Science class. Quizzes were being handed out by my highly inept professor who fervently believes that cursing equals getting respect from students. As she handed out our "damn quizzes", I listened and observed my fellow classmates. The girl in front of me, who smelled like a nuked perfume factory, was flirting with a guy who smelled like dirty laundry. And I mean DIRTY laundry. SUPER combo. As their conversation went on about how much they drank and degraded themselves the night before, I decided to tune them out. Before I did however, I heard the dirty boy say,

"What can I say? Sexy is my middle name."

First of all, I highly disagreed with that statement. Secondly, after swallowing the bile that was welling up in my esophagus, I started thinking about my middle name. Grace. Do I live up to my middle name? Then I began thinking about how my first name means "grace." Double whammy. Do I need to live up to my first and middle name? I then set a goal for myself. I want to be a grace-filled person. AKA: graceful. I want, when people think of adjectives about me, to think of me as graceful. (Not that I think people REALLY sit around and think up adjectives about me.) It's my new goal.

Then I got my quiz back. And I had failed. I had two options. Throw a fit and act like perfume girl and dirty boy were acting - because they failed, too. Or I could accept the fact that I failed my quiz which counts less than 1% of my final grade and move on.

I slid the quiz in the folds of my notebook quietly and gracefully. Score one for the team.