Just a quick note to you guys...

I am sorry that I haven't written more in the last...couple of months, ipes. Things have been so busy with school, and Romania, and now I'm in Romania, and oh man. I've just had such an overload of thoughts, and emotions, and ugh, everything, that I haven't been able to bring myself to write anywhere else than a couple of emails, the odd Facebook message, and the trip blog I'm writing for everyone. I'm not even writing in my own personal journal right now. There's just so much writing to do already, I can't bear to spend an extra five minutes on the computer as it is. So this leave of absence will mostly continue. :) Sorry! Enjoy whatever's going on in your lives, and happy holidays! Sarbatori fericite!

The tongue no man can tame!

Oh stars. Don't you just love when Today's Life Lesson With Love From the Lord is so clear? I do.

"You have got to stop talking!" I heard those exact words from multiple people today. As harsh as they may sound (maybe they don't sound harsh--maybe you've had to listen to me a time or two haha), it was all in the name of being considerate and helpful, since my voice decided to take a vacation this morning. A weekend full of chilly air, road-trip karaoke, hayrides, campfires, and hymn sings took its toll by Lord's Day morning, and my voice had checked out. I, however, being the talker that I am, just couldn't hack the lack of communication, so I spent all day trying to squeak out as much as I could, and lots of people spent all day rebuking me for the abuse I was laying on my vocal cords. However, in their rebuke, I felt a Stiller, Smaller rebuke. You know the voice.

It's something I've been feeling a little poked about for quite a while now. I say lots of words to lots of people. Some people talk a lot, but do it quietly. Some people don't talk much, but when they do, you hear it. I happen to have the "best" of both worlds. I am a rambling queen, and I do it at a decibel level that some people equate more with yelling.

I think part of my poked-ness is a little about self-consciousness--it bothers me how loud I am. I honestly can't hear it most of the time. If someone points it out to me, I can tell, but I am usually blissfully unaware of the loudness left to my own devices. I can't count the number of times I've felt like I was just speaking normally and seen my listener grab their ears in agony. It's embarrassing actually. I always used to get really discouraged when I read the verses about having a meek and quiet spirit, because there is nothing quiet about the real me (my I-don't-know-anyone self can be pretty silent, but she doesn't get out much). I eventually realized when I was a little older that a quiet spirit is different than a quiet mouth.

But I've also been realizing that a quiet mouth has got a value of its own. In the interest of scaring people less often, I've been trying to take the noise down a notch in the actual-amount-of-noise-you-hear sense. But I feel like the Lord's been working with me a little bit to take the noise down as in the amount of ridiculous and unnecessary words that I speak. And having my voice all of a sudden vacate my premises was kind of like a little "Know that I'm not joking about this," from the Lord.

It's just that I spend so much time talking about nothing. Either I'm talking frivolous and trivial things, or I'm complaining, or I'm talking about myself, the list goes on and on. I'd be afraid to calculate what percentage of my audible speech is actually about the Lord, or how much of it is in the interest of those walls we're building up for Him. So much of my breath is wasted in talk of worldly things, in complaint, in passive boasting--I won't mince words, I am sometimes boastful and proud even if I try and hide it in the way I word things--and it makes me scared to think of being at the Seat, watching the Me slideshow with my Lord, and seeing how little of my time, my activity, my voice was really truly devoted to Him.

So having my voice gone, even for just this short amount of time (maybe it was more of a staycation--it kind of comes and goes a little bit) has just been like the Lord's showing me how ugly my mouth can be, and yet the potential it has for good. Just, when there's only so much you can get across, you don't want to waste your energy on words that don't matter. You want to spend your time conveying to people important messages.

I don't want my mouth to open up and spout a bunch of icky stuff with a little bit of His sweetness mixed in. I want Psalm 51:15--"O Lord, open Thou my lips, and my mouth shall shew forth Thy praise." I don't want Him to open my lips only to hear a bunch of garbage spill out. So instead of letting me empty my cotton-candy-and-garbage filled mouth (to avoid confusion, I mean cotton candy as unsubstantial and empty, completely separate from the "sweetness" reference earlier haha), He's shutting it temporarily, I think so I can see what's going on in there, and what's going on in my heart, to produce such garbage, since we all know that out of the abundance of the heart man--or wo-man--speaketh.

So for the next day or two, my mouth will be a little less flappy than usual, and will hopefully get on a path to staying that way. No man can tame my tongue, but the Lord is no mere man. He's Almighty God, and He's up for the challenge if I let Him.

What good even IS a shower then?

This blog must be super boring to basically anyone who lays eyes on it. I feel like I'm no fun anymore! I am slowly making the switch to responsible adult, and that scares me, because I haven't learned yet how to walk the line between "responsible" (read, boring) adult and hooligan kid. It seems I'm always either one or the other. I'm either getting busted breaking curfew, or asleep before ten, before the legitimate old people quiet down.

I know I'm not a boring person by nature, at least I hope, but I need to learn to do fun stuff, without it being super childly. Like, I was just realizing today, I stopped singing in the shower! Like a long time ago! How sad is that?! It's really sad, for all of you who don't do that. You should start. I'm going to.

I don't need any help being immature--I feel like I've basically written the book--but I do sometimes need to loosen up about things, and relax. I've been reading a bunch on mylifeisaverage.com, and it's been depressing me, because I used to have oodles of stories that were worthy! But most of them were not mine, and I can't think of very many past high school, and I can think of none recently. I miss magical life! This kind of hearkens back to my "This is the day" post a while back.

Just, the Lord has made so many great things, and there are so many little ways to find a little bubble of--laughter, joy, magic, whatever--in life all the time! That's probably the cheesiest thing I've ever said, but it's true! So tomorrow, I'm maybe going to play in the leaves with my dog. Or maybe leave a "Pick me!" note in a favorite book for some future reader in the library. Or maybe just sing in the shower? Oooh, I have to pick a song! :) I miss being excited about little things...

Writing?! I feel old...

So writing in general does not make me feel old. It makes me feel good, and sparkly, and smart. I thoroughly enjoy writing. I find what makes me feel old is reading writing I wrote in days of yore. Yuck.

So I just googled my old-slash-junk email address to see what came up, and one of the three or four results was...(dun, dun, DUN) my old xanga. Ugh. It pains me even to type the word xanga. It seems like such an emo-kid thing looking back at it. I know normal people had-slash-have xangas, but for me, I got it during a period where I was like, into Christian rock (not K-love-contemporary stuff, but like legit rock), and legitimately emo. I didn't even know I ever was! One of my sundry and divers bffs (aren't I glamorously popular) is reading all her old journals, and we're finding out she was legitimately emo too. I thought I was a pretty chill teenager, like I'm a pretty chill adult right now. I don't stress too much, I try not to whine a lot, and I would consider myself a super happy person, relative to most of the world.

But wow, was I ever wrong about my old-timey self. I kept the xanga for basically my junior year of high school. As 21 year old me remembers, junior year was like my fave teenage year. I had the most fun at school--senior year would've been more fun if my school bff didn't die in the middle of it, buuuuuut...she did, so not as much fun as it could've been. I promise, I'm not trying to be emo right now. :) I've healthily worked through that deal, seriously. But so in my memory, junior year was for serious good times, albeit busy ones. But reading that xanga, wow. I WAS EMO. It makes me want to cry. And privatize all the posts. Which I've since done. I'm keeping them so maybe one day if the Lord leaves us and gives me teenagers--my own kid form, or cool aunt-niece-nephew type--I can prove to them that I really do know what it's like to be emo and teenagerly.

And I would not have wanted to be friends with my old self. It seemed like I spent the whole time posturing, saying stuff that, looking back, was obviously an attempt to coolify myself or something, and listening to music that I pretended was all top-forty-deviant, and mature for me to have picked...I was...I don't even know. not such good times.

Like I've read bloggish things, and like myspaceish stuff of different teenagers, and I'm always struck with a do-you-think-life-is-really-like-this type reaction, and think like, get over it, teenage life is not that crazy. It was scary though, because I got the same exact feeling reading my own blog from being seventeen. I'm just glad that nearly five years are now separating me from my 17 year old self. I went through an old journal the other day, where I said something about being embarrassed to read some of it "five years from now," when I realized that it had legitimately already been five years since I wrote it.

I've consciously felt like a separate entity from my thirteen and fourteen year old journal self, but this is the first time I've ever realized how much I've changed since even my older high school years. Like last time I re-read my xanga stuff, which, granted, was like 2 years ago or something, I remember being kind of proud of how funny it was. So I was excited to find it again, but once I started reading, I was like, how could I ever have liked that I wrote this?! It was just as embarrassing to read 17-year-old-me's journal at 21 as it was to read 13-yr-old-me's journal at 17. Makes me feel kind of old, that I can't connect to my teenage self anymore.

And I just want to say right now, if I ever start blogging like an emo, teenagerly little girl, please slap me well upside my head. I don't even know. And my new prayer is that I've somehow become a better writer than what I apparently used to think was good. Yuck. We'll see how like, 30 year old me looks at this blog. Ipes. Time is so weird...

Romania: Reexamined

Sometimes, I astound myself. It is 1:23 am as I'm beginning this. I have oodles of school to do, an alarm set for quarter to six, and about a million hours of work to do tomorrow. And yet, here am I, cleaning my nails of wedding polish (can you say ew?) and...blogging. BUT! I promised. About the blogging, not the polish removal. Though I wish someone would hold me accountable for that too sometimes...another story.

So mostly-non-existent readership, permit me to do some more Romania talk. Would you believe it--since I last wrote, I have become the proud owner of transatlantic plane tickets with British Airways to--would you believe this too--Bucharest. I'm here not to defend my plans exactly--no one is being accusatory or anything--but rather to explain some more I guess?

The truth is, I don't really know what I'm doing anymore than anyone else can see. To a lot of people, this probably looks like either a) a crazy, ill-planned adventure for a stir-crazy fool, or b) an ill-planned ploy to--and it pains me to even acknowledge this really--catch a husband. I'll go with a) first.

This does seem crazy. I spent two weeks some place, and all of a sudden it's everything, and I go out of my way to spend a bunch of money and time getting back. To everyone, and even to most of me, that seems ridiculous, and foolish, and crazy. But the other part of me, and probably no one else, knows that this is supposed to be happening. The Lord has been very, very clear with me about this. I am meant to get on that plane, and go see those people. I don't mean to sound all extra in tune spiritually, but the Lord and I are friends. Why shouldn't He tell me stuff? And one thing He has told me is to go back to Romania.

I left Romania thinking dually, 1. I need to get back to that place! and 2. everyone says that, and much less than everyone actually follows through. This is not to say boo on everyone who has only been once--not at all. Going at all is a great sacrifice, and a wonderful service. And I fully understand that there are reasons people can't always return. And maybe the Lord wouldn't have them to! He tells us all different stuff--duh. But coming home, I felt Him very clearly telling me, it doesn't have to be like that. You don't have to go, and make connections, and be touched by people, and then never see them again until you're together in glory. You don't have to ignore what you feel for them. You can take that love, and live it, in this case, by making a crazy-looking, out of the blue trip just to visit. I mean, I don't expect to be any great, huge help, and I don't flatter myself thinking that I'm going to be some wondrous encouragement. But I do know this: that it means a lot to them to have visitors, and it means a lot to me to be with them.

So as wild and nonsensical as it seems, I'm just trying to be obedient. It's not hard when I'm loving the idea. :) And oh boy, the second one's a doozy. The (dun, dun, DUN) marriage one. Ipes. This is the thing people who don't even bother to consider the crazy part. They just see girls going to a place where there are boys, and it equals someone wants to marry (I say marry, because dating is basically a non-anything for my kind of Romanians)

Okay, first of all, I am not even 22. There is no reason to pull out the stops and be a husband hunter right now. 22 is not supposed to be an age of desperation, and I refuse to treat it as such. Not every move I make is made as the means to a marital end. But that is a whole other blog post, my friends.

And as much as I understand the curiousity--I'd probably say the same thing if I weren't me--I almost a little bit resent the implication. Part of what drew me to the trip was the fact that in the past, so many of the Romanian-returns have been because of romantical possibilities. They were I think all on the d-l, but very few have returned to Romania without some ulterior motive involving, ahem, marital bliss, if even on a superly distant horizon. And maybe this is silly, but to me, realizing that was like a punch in the gut somehow.

How is it that only romantic prospects have been able to draw any number of people back to Romania? Like I don't want it to sound like I'm trying to be all heroic, and exemplary because I shelled out for a plane ticket even without a possible husband lying in wait. But one of the reasons I was so happy to plan to go back is I wanted to say, Look Romanians! You're enough! Even you minus the engagement ring! (except my kind of Romanians don't wear engagement rings, but you get the picture) I just kind of wanted somebody to break the mold and be able to go just for the sake of friendship and brotherhood in Christ. And also, to show future Romania travelers, or even past ones, that it doesn't have to be a "once-in-a-lifetime adventure!" (ugh, it bothers me a lot when people refer to it as such--there are people there, and Romania is their home and reality, not just our virtuous-summer-vacation hotspot), and that you really can go back! There's no rule that says you can only visit Romania if you're scoping out spousal applicants. It's not as if I'm the first one ("we," my traveling friend included), but it's just something I feel strongly about.

That having been said, I have to say something too, in order to fulfill my original obligation. This post was to put at ease the mind of friends, a specific one in particular. I already said this, at least to this friend :), but I have no plans to move to Romania. I have no plans to move anywhere. But I will be honest and say, if something came up and there were an opportunity or reason to move to Romania, I would absolutely pray seriously about it, and have no problem saying yes if I felt like it was the Lord's mind. But at the same time, I would say the exact same thing if the place in question was, say, California. Or Pennsylvania. Or Rockford for pity's sake.

Like I said, I have no plans to move to Romania. and I would be extremely surprised if that's what the Lord had for me. But the reality of the situation is, if it won't be Romania, it'll be someplace else. I have no delusions that I will somehow end up living in this area--the very likely truth is that I will live somewhere that isn't here, and probably somewhere at least vaguely far from here. That said, I have no plans to move away from here at all, not yet. Who knows what He has in the future, but for now, I am firmly planted. And even if I had to be firmly planted across oceans, or just across state lines, I would still be me, and my friends, you would still be you, and I would still love you and talk to you and what not. Our faces would just be farther away, that's all. :)

I'm not sure what all else there is to be said in the way of reassurance, but what I do know is that I have to get up in about 4 hours to take my g-ma to the airport. Goody. My sincere apologies for such a boring, self-centered, self-righteous, not funny blogpost. I hate blogs that aren't funny. Blech. Anyhow, I hate four hours of sleep even more, so I'm going to try and make it slightly over. Good night to allllll....

România frumos...

I just wanted to quick post a picture, number 1 to see if I could, and number 2 to have a picture of my beloved on my blog. : ) I am obsessed, I wasn't lying. : )

Te iubesc, România...

saturday nights...

Saturday nights are meant to be spent hanging out with people and stuff. Not doing school! Blech! It's my own fault; that's what online school does to a gal. Makes her wait til the weekend to do school? Wait--what? Why would anyone do that? Because I'm stupid and busy all week! Boo. That's why.

I'm just whining because I told myself I couldn't go to bed until ALL of my schoolwork for the week was done (it's due tomorrow at midnight, but I like Lord's day empty), and I still have like tons of work to do. So I'm blogging instead of doing it! I'm smart. Really. I am.

This is pointless, I'm ridiculous, must do school. ugh. and to think I was sooo excited for it! haha...

Hai, get writing!

Ahhhh, how good it is to be back. I miss this. So much. But Life! It's so busy! It's hard.

I'm on my first official semester as a DECLARED (!) English major (the bells in my heart are a-ringing...), which is marvelous, but time consuming. And it's like for real college now! Haha. I'm taking a sociolinguistics class. It makes me feel smart to say, but stupid because it's hard. : ) The rest of school is pretty easy, but also mostly boring: computer classes (2, ugh), a library class, and research writing class. Sorry guys, not my things.

And the wedding went off without a hitch. Old Lady Rachel really is an old married lady, haha. Good times.

And the other major summer event in my world: ah Romania. This will mayhap seem off the subject, but believe me, it's not. I have to explain something. This is how I am: I get obsessions. I've been this way since I was a wee lass. I live in a world of superlatives basically. If I like something, I LOVE it. If I dislike something, I can't STAND it. It's me. Whatever. But so I've always been particularly susceptible to long, hard, obsessions. In my earlier days, it was boy bands and I don't know, tv shows maybe?

These days it's more...entire countries (and still boy bands) (but not really) (but sort of still yes haha). I say it like it's happened a million times, and like it has only to do with the physical country, but there's more to it than that. I had a baby obsession in Canada (I know, can you believe it?) when I started to have friends from there. But my first big one was England. Oh lands, am I ever an anglophile. Oooooh lands. You've never seen such an one. I went with school one year and loved it, but then went again two years later and LOVED it even more, having experienced what it was like to actually be with (and beFRIEND) some locals. And the obsession continued.

And yet. I think my anglo-obsession has been dethroned (audible gasps from...no one.), and who by, but a little unassuming EU underdog...yes, I mean Romania! Land of ciorba, Dracula, and uh, other -uh stuff. It was...perfect. I can't think of other words. And it will seem an obsession--and it is, really, but not in a bad way. But the obsession doesn't really have much to do with the actual land--though that land is spectacular and unmatched in my opinion--but just in the way that land is connected to those people. I have no idea how, but after a week and a half, every single one of them just...I don't know how to say it without sounding cheesy and Hallmark-ish. In such a short time, they got worked so well into my heart that it hurt to leave. Every single person. Even people I barely said words to. And it's funny, because I said words to almost everyone, even to those who couldn't understand them. : )

I don't want it to come off like I'm obsessed with Romania because...the hiking was incredible (which it was), or because the mountains were SO beautiful (which they were), or because there were SO MANY watermelons (which there were teehee). All those things are true, but I'm obsessed with Romania because somehow, I LOVE those people. Boys and girls, young and old, happy and a little moody haha. There's not one person I met there that wasn't incredibly kind and welcoming to me, and not one person whose face I don't miss.

I just feel such an incredible tug towards that place. I had never planned on going before, but the invite came and I thought, Well Lord, didn't think this was ever happening, but shall we give it a shot? He said yes, and I've been a goner ever since. I've spent every waking (and sleeping! haha) moment thinking about Romania, and I'm pretty sure I'll be spending every penny I've got trying to stow away to get back again. I miss my Romanians!

So as much as I call them my obsessions, like they're trivial little whatevers, I really honestly with my whole heart miss Romania, and some Romanians, and still Britains, and some British folk. When it has to do with actual people, it's a little more than just omiworddidyoujustseethenewphotoshootforsoandsoit'sAMAZING type obsessions.

Anyhow, it's super late and blah I'm tired. So noapte buna! But if I were in Romania right now, I'd be saying buna dimineata! It's uh, not 10 in the morning there at all...no sir, not that late, except it is. Boo.

WOW.

It has been a loooong time, friends. I mean, myself. I have no friends, not bloggerly ones, anyway. It has just been SUCH a busy summer. Wow.

I'm working full time, frantically basically in order to make money, ugh. But also, I'm appearing as a bridesmaid for the first time in me-history, I'm going to Romania for the first time in me-history, and going back to college! It sounds like I'm going back to college after I've gotten old, but I've only been out for a semester. And this little short list does not sound that crazy, but I'll tell you right now, it is. I promise.

I just feel kind of exhausted mentally, just everything going on with wedding plans, even just planning to pack for Romania, and then ohmyword, getting school together has been insane to me. Working out money stuff, and I'm finally registered, but it's taken a lot of mental energy.

Anyhow, sorry this isn't funny or interesting or anything, to any soul who happens upon this sorry blog, but whatever. I mostly did this boring little stuff in order to remind myself how much I miss my short little blog. : ) I'll get there.

There are some days when I can't do anything but just sit with the Lord. If you'll pardon the vaguely emo departure, I'm not feeling the humor today. This is going to be crazy unorganized, and whatever, but it's my blog, and I guess I'll do as I please, won't I?

It's odd to feel so out of sorts with everything getting gorgeous around me. The weather is beautiful at home, and I spent the weekend in North Carolina where, even cloudy and rainy as it was at times, the view was nothing short of breathtaking. But in the same breath that I'm thanking Him for such fantastic creation, I'm begging for peace. It's so odd to me that it's possible for me to be so almost divided. How is it that I can still feel so in love with Him, and yet be so anguished? Ha, is this what it's like to be married to an insufferable man? In all seriousness though, in the past, when I've been angry at the Lord--ashamed as I am to admit it, I have been--the anger has always temporarily blinded me, and made me forget His inherent goodness. When I've had issues with the Lord, this is how it goes: I get mad, forget what He is, He reminds me, and we're all good.

But somehow, this time around things are a little less cut and dry. Maybe it's because all weekend, just as the storm was hitting, waves of reminders of His goodness on the other side were crashing just as hard. So the hot and cold waters are kind of mingling in me and storming around, and I just don't really know how to feel. I've had to turn off a little bit, and just kind of let the Lord just...be? I don't know. We're still talking, I'm still saying words, and still reading His, but I just can't figure out myself right now. I want to adore Him, and I want to run as far away from Him as I can at the same time almost. Like those old-timey Bogart-ish movies where the tough guy grabs the arms of his lady as she pummels his chest, and then with a cry she surrenders and kisses him like she always wanted. I apologize for the wierdness of my description just now, but I always used to think that was ridiculous, kind of until now. I sort of get it, because it's as close as I can get to how I feel.

I can't finish this right now...

And this is days later anyway. Good times.

Lovely day, isn't it?

Yes, yes it is. And this, my friends, is my revelation for the week. I'm not sure what all has been building up to this, but over the last week or so, my whole life has been shouting at me, "Enjoy this! Revel in the everyday!" It sounds really cheesy, like Joel-Osteen-esque or something. Maybe not Joel Osteen per se, but just any random ambiguously inspirational television preacher? Anyhow. I was just hearing a song on the radio the other day, one I do at least vaguely like, but I've heard it a few times more than a bunch, and yet for some reason the lyrics just kind of popped this last week. I'm going to just put the good chorus-y bit of the lyrics up, because it's the whole song most succinctly (I always spell that wrong!) worded (that's usually what choruses are I suppose), and because I think writing out parts of songs like the "Oh yeah"s and what not is silly. Apologies for the crazy run-on. Look up the rest of the song if you like.

It might not be the prettiest thing that you'll ever see but it's a new day...
And it might not look like a beautiful sunrise, but it's a new day....
"New Day" by the Robby Seay Band

It's a decent sounding song, but I mostly like the lyrics. And I think what it is for me is just that I don't nearly appreciate things enough in life. Yes, when I wake up in the morning, I thank the Lord for the nice weather if we're having it, and for a good night's sleep, and little things like that, which are well and good, but I feel almost as if I'm just saying thanks as a formality. As if someone gave you a gift bag full of junk you didn't really want, but you said thanks just to be polite. And how could I possibly have that attitude towards the Lord? I don't know if that's exactly the right analogy--I'm not displeased in any way in His gifts to me, but rather just apathetic. Like, oh cool, I'm still alive. I'm still saved. Thanks.

I don't know, this is all coming out jumbled. My whole thing was not that I'm not grateful enough (though understand me, I'm not), but rather that I should pay more attention to the little things He gives me every day. The fact that He gives me a day at all is almost astounding sometimes. And a lot of times those days just get completely squandered--I either do nothing productive, or I have no enjoyment of it. Part of why this is such a big thing to me I think is the whole non-schooling thing I'm going through at the moment, and it just feels like, since I'm not finished schooling, that I'm in a weird limbo, when really the Lord's given me this time for a reason and a purpose. What it is, I probably won't fully know until I'm back in school.

I learned that verse, Psalm 118:24, when I was a super small child, but I don't think about it hardly enough. So much of the time I'm complaining about little daily things, like traffic, like not-the-cool-kind-of-rain, like losing my keys, when there are really wonderful things to be thankful for. Like cold glasses of milk, like new plant sprouts, like a favorite old song playing over the intercom at the grocery store. Just little things like that. It sounds so sappy, but there really are little wondrous things all around of which I take absolutely no notice. I smile, I chuckle a little bit, and then it's back to the grind. I just feel like I need to be more aware of how good things are for me. This is the day that the Lord has made, I will be glad and rejoice in it. That's once.

Oh, foolishness.

I'm going to cut right to the chase here, folks. I am tired of being an idiot. Okay, that's a little harsh. I am not an idiot. But I'd rather call myself stupid than smart. If I call myself smart, and then don't live up to it, then I look--surprise, surprise--stupid, but if I say I'm stupid and then seem smart, then it really is a surprise. Even that whole last sentence sounded ridiculous. What I'm trying to say is, I know that I could potentially be a smart, informed person, and I know that I already am at least vaguely intelligent. But if I would just quit being so lazy, I could do so much better with myself.

And don't get me wrong; I'm not trying to fill up on man's wisdom or anything of the sort--I mean scripturally smart as well. I'd like to know the Bible as cerebrally as I feel like I sometimes get it spiritually and emotionally. Like, I want to memorize the kings of Judah and Israel, be able to reference and quote verses in an even vaguely correct manner, know chronological orders.

This is coming off like a really dry post, but I've just been realizing lately that my brain has been completely on auto-pilot, cruise control for much, much too long. I had a stack of stupid library books that I intended to read, but I looked at them and thought, wow, I could probably buy these at the grocery store. And in my opinion, if you can buy it at the grocery store, it's likely not worth reading. Some exceptions, but these books, had they actually been in the grocery store, would not have been those. So, frustrated with myself and my ignorance, I took the whole lot of it back to the library without thinking twice. While I was there, I got some books that I thought might actually benefit me in some way. So nothing you can buy at the grocery store. Sorry, grocery stores, you should stick to what you do best: groceries.

I spent all day today kind of doing smartly things (are you seeing where I'm coming from? I just used the "word," "smartly.") I read some Mackintosh (whoa. I am not known for my ministry reading, but I'm trying, really, I am), did a lot of Bible-ing, some Bible searchers, which, while not entirely intellectually stimulating, are at least a noble activity, and they are kind of difficult these days, if only because of an unfortunate change in authorship. I read a couple of poems, and am now writing. This writing is kind of ridiculous, but I find it a good exercise to try and write at least once in a while. I'm really bad at doing it in a consistent, timely way, but I'll keep trying.

I'm mostly just really terrified that I'll jump back into school, and this time into an actual university, and find it over my head like it's never been before. And really, it's been years since I felt challenged. I'm terrible at challenging myself, and let's face it, my self has been my only real schoolmaster for the past three years now. The last time I did any work I was proud of was my senior year of high school, in 2006, and looking back on that, while I'm still pleased with it, it seems almost a little juvenile now. I'm just afraid that all of a sudden, school at a normal level will be difficult. I'm not trying to be like, I'm so smart, regular school is ridiculous for me, but honestly, I'm going for an English major, and the last time I was in a regular level communications course outside of community college was literally in the second grade.

In college I stayed regular because it was cheap, but it was absolutely ridiculous. I would write a paper in an hour, and get a note from my teacher saying it was the best work in the class. I'm not bragging--this is regular level, community college English. About 40 percent of my classmates were ESL (not saying they're dumb, just that English=not their forte obviously). But my point is this: I got lazy, and I'm afraid I've forgotten how to bring my A-game to the table. I feel like I don't even know how to speak to someone intelligently anymore. I don't know why all of a sudden I'm so anxious about it. Maybe I'm just nervous about school coming up again, and I've always been a little bit unnecessarily defensive about my college "career" (see how I did that? I pretend it's fake because it's community college. IT'S NOT FAKE! I hate how little credit I give myself sometimes.). I don't know.

But anyhow, I've resolved to stop being so whiney about it, and just do something with my time. I'm going to avoid books for people who don't read, and maybe actually put something worthwhile and satisfying into my head. Like the way I'm avoiding sweets and the like. I've got time on my hands before school, and maybe doing this will make the transition a little less scary. Anyhow, I'm all gung ho at this point, and so I'm going to go pick one of my new library books to get started on. How I wish I didn't beat on myself so much. : )

howdy spring time!

I am mucho excited that spring time has finally deigned to make an appearance in the Chicagoland area. It was like 75 degrees out yesterday! I wasn't just being delusional, like I get when the temp climbs to 35--it was for serious warm! Beautiful. And the several days beforehand were likewise gorgeous. I went bike riding for the first time this year, for about an hour or so which was wholly as satisfying as I thought it would be. Then all the cool kids went rollerblading after meeting for a good hour, hour and a half.

I declare, spring time is my absolute favourite. You can smell things growing--not in a gross way or anything of course. But that sort of rainy, but sunny smell...if they could bottle that... I just love so much about March, April, May. I love that sort of chilliness in the morning that's more refreshing than cold, and that wet smell in the air, and the little pokey plants coming up. And how could I forget the wittle baby animals running around everywhere? I promise you, I still get as excited to see a baby bunny in the yard as I did when I was five years old. My nannied kids are like, okay, we get it, there's a squirrel on the back porch. Grow up. I point out every single critter that comes near the house with a ridiculous amount of awe. I made a three year old watch a hawk on the swing set for like 15 minutes. And are my kiddies in for a treat now that it's spring and animals are coming back! : )

I'm really excited too, because I'm planning on working on a garden in our yard! Wow. We usually get plots across town, but it costs money, they're kind of far, and people can steal your veggies. So I thought with a bit of trepidation about getting a garden started in the backyard with all my favorites--zucchini, squash, tomatoes, beans, peas, leeks(!)--and was like, oh no, how am I going to figure all this out? And then our Better Homes and (wait for it) Gardens (!) came in the mail with a big ol' article on how to do little box gardens in the backyard. So exciting. So I have a bunch of seed packets, and some little planters for an herb garden, so I can finally use the fresh seasoning my recipes call for. God is amazing, that we can just stick some seeds into the ground, and proceed to watch them grow into plants that produce fruit to nourish us. And fruit that's tasty, notwithstanding!

The only wrench in my spring loving this week was that two of the kiddies had the flu. : ( Us poor lot, we were stuck inside mostly. It was just the respiratory type of flu, so no vomit, praise the Lord. I had my first experience being vomited on a few weeks ago, when my neighbour's whole family got the stomach flu, and I babysat while parent and child alike puked everywhere. Not so fun. So yesterday, I worked all day, because my two (T-10 and E-7) school-bound kiddies were instead home-bound with fevers and coughs and runny noses and the like. The poor dears had no energy to argue all day long, and were so good all day, it was pitiful. I mean, they're never bad per se, but they can get touchy with each other, and do little things like sneaking extra candy at snack time, that kind of thing. But all their energy was spent using the clicker to pick the next recorded episode of Full House (everywhere you look, everywhere is a heart, is a heart...). It was cute, but I was sad for them and for me that they felt so bad and that we couldn't enjoy the bee-yoo-tiful weather. Normally on such a nice day we'd spend the whole afternoon at a playground, or getting ice cream or some such fun, but not so that day. So we left only to go pick H up from preschool, and she and I played outside for a little bit in the afternoon. E was still home from school today with her dad, so I had the day off, but hopefully she's feeling better, and everyone's on the upswing. Thankfully my mom gave me my flu shot (at the dinner table no less, haha) so I don't feel susceptible, but it's miserable to see little kids sick, even if they're slightly easier to manage in such a state. : )

Anyhow, it's off to bed I go, in case I get a call in the morning saying E is still too sick for school, and that I need to go stay with her. Otherwise, it's off to bed I go, so I can force myself into getting some bodily work done in the morning. Yoga? Running? Weights? I'm so ambitious, and yet so seldom do I follow through. Ugh. Good night to all anyway!

an update.

and how are you all on this fine friday morning? i apologize to the three of you who "read" (scroll through when you have five seconds to wait for another page to load) this sorry attempt at a blog, however, i have this thing where i like to hibernate in february. the end of winter is sometimes the hardest for me. me--when will it ever end? february--soon, but not now. but now, friends, it is MARCH! the month where i hope and pray spring will stay, but without doubt, lets itself out. ... out a...door or something. it lets winter back in. this is stupid.

but seriously though, the past couple of days=bee-YOO-tiful! which is funny, because it was only like 52. i thought it was even beautiful yesterday, when it was about 44. oh, being from the midwest. or anywhere else normally cold in winter time. it was sooo beautiful that i was a nice nanny and took the kids for ice cream and to the park! i'm the best nanny ever, i know.

anyhow, a few (slightly) more exciting things going on right now for me, in case anyone may be interested (haha): numero uno (did you know, this is also italian for "number one," not just spanish? tuck that one away. it'll do you no good ever basically.) i'm looking at some new school prospects! picking on school stuff has been hard for me because, while i am a people person and all about social, emotional, human stuff, i don't want to be a teacher, and so i've struggled with the other viable options for people with these interests only. i know there's lots of good careers for people just like me, but no choice has ever really screamed, this is you! you'll love this! still nothing is really screaming that, but the Lord is opening up some doors for me to peek inside i think, and work some things out with Him as pertaining to my future schooling. pretty exciting.

also more than fairly sweet is, we're "planning," and by planning i mean we one time looked at some rental timeshares online, a little family reunion--my mom's sisters, her, and families--at myrtle beach! i've never been, but hear many good things. i like what i've seen of the carolinas thus far, which is not much. i stayed in lake junaluska one weekend, and then spent the night in some hotel in some part of a carolina, can't remember which, or what town, or anything. but it was nice! i'm praying this will work out; our family always has a lot of fun together, as long as we have time to break things down a little.

that's pretty much all. i'm reading a boatload of library books, my knitting eyes are getting bigger than my stomach, not to mention my "skill," and i am slowly but surely trying to get back into an exercise routine. we shall see! until next time...

Hanging out you'all.

I don't know what this means. I wanted to say ya'll but make sure it didn't sound like I was really saying ya'll. I'm a little bit stupid.

So I'm just hanging out here, we're waiting for my cousins so we can be on our way to GRAND RAPIDS, MICHIGAN!!! I know, you're jealous. You'll just have to control yourself. Sorry. Actually, though, seriously, Grand Rapids is cool and fun. I think. I've never been there in winter time. Though I'm sure it's "cool" in the temperature sense of the word.

Speaking of temperature, oh man, was it a bee-yootiful day! I don't mean to sound all arrogant about how much winter I can handle (even though I mostly hate it), but seriously, 35 degrees felt like summer time outside. I actually heard a lady in all seriousness refer to today as a nice, spring day. It is February 6th, and 35. And yes, in Chicago, and probably in a lot of places, that feels like a nice, spring day when it's been about 60 degrees colder than that with wind chill.

Haha, so it's now like a week and a half later. And there's snow on the ground again. : ( I'm only posting this boring post to give my loyal readers something to read. Haha...more later?

Feeling crafty

And not crafty in a what-new-way-can-I-find-to-embezzle-money type of way either.

With my "sabbatical" from school, I've been "worried" about finding ways to productively spend my time. Really, there's plenty to keep me occupied, for years even (for example, cleaning my room? anyone?) The house is getting refinanced, and the I-make-sure-your-house-isn't-a-dump guy is coming sometime next week, so we have to clean, clean, clean like Cinderelly's friendly mice friends--in other words, super fast. I've had the best intentions of becoming the regular (or at least semi-regular) cook in the house for years. I have literally a hundred Italian lessons waiting on my computer to be taken (I've already taken ten, so...I'm not entirely unrealistic). I also have like six brush up math books stacked beside my bed just waiting for me to crack them open so I can raise my entrance grade for college math (ugh).

BUT. None of that is fun. I feel like a child saying that, but really it's what I'm thinking, so why not just be honest? Actually though, some of that is fun (Italian lessons?). And like for the house, we're halfway through redoing the downstairs bathroom as far as our budget will take us, which is oddly fun.
I've never been very good at it, but I've always like DIY home type of projects--building furniture, painting stuff, and the rest. After my dad did all the demo work, I did all the aesthetics like spackle and paint.
It's kind of sad though how the nice new paint sort of exaggerates how ugly the old stuff is. Yuck. Plus I apparently did a poor job of taping that spot.

Back to my original topic. So I like to pretend I'm good at crafts. I have like a bajillion little things I've made around my room--an ugly old basket I weaved for girl scouts, some ugly old pieces of pottery I painted at girls' birthday parties--stuff like that. I love going to craft stores, love buying things from craft stores, but can I really be crafty? I don't know. I do love love love to scrapbook, as I've mentioned earlier, and I would say, with caution, that I think I'm a fairly decent scrapbooker.

But that's the only affirmed even partial skill that I possess. I've done tiny little cross stitches (like the kind with thirteen stitches), and sewn scarves (it can be done--the little triangle ones for your head!), and painted a still-in-commission key rack that, while it mismatches the decor, I dare say is quite cute. So I know I at least have the potential, and that maybe what I'm lacking is patience and discipline.

But really, I have like craft store ADD. One minute I'm trying to learn how to stamp extra-nicely, and the next I'm trying to hook rugs. For example, I went to Michael's today. Did I waste my money on scrapbooking stuff, which is at least a semi good investment since I'm actually good at it? No. Guess what I did. I bought a set of knitting needles and some yarn. What kind of needles? How should I know? Is the yarn suitable? You aren't asking me, are you?

This is what's funny about the needles and yarn. I don't know how to knit. Several people have tried in vain to teach me, much to their dismay and consternation. I fail miserably. However, the other day, I was bored (people aren't kidding about idle hands and the like--I get into all kinds of trouble) and some channel I subscribe to on YouTube (it's official; I'm a geek) posted some knitting how-to videos. I see three, and think, yeah, I could definitely do that. Never mind that I've tried. I suppose I've got to admire my optimism and perseverance, or whatever.

But anyhow, I bought the yarn and needles, and thankfully got my wits about me before I actually started to cast on (I know what that means! YouTube told me! I'm like a guy who says he's a doctor from watching ER and House...), and have decided that since sledding at my cousin's house is probably out (it's like 35 under with wind chill), I'll turn it into an everyone-watch-me-learn-to-knit party. Maybe this time will be the charmed one.

So now, if I was unsure before, never fear, business is here!

• Learn to knit
• Scrapbook some
• Keep on Italian
• Get on math
• READ. I'm a dork...
• Clean (blech)
• START WORK ON FEB. 2ND!!! YAY!
• Some intense Bible study (funny that when I finally have the time it's harder to do sometimes)
• Cook some more, organize my recipes--this makes me feel all virtuous and Mistress of the house-ish, organizing recipes...

I know no one else cares about my list, but I just had to get it out and have done with it. And have it permanently embedded in cyberspace for all earthly time so that I actually do the things on it.

And I just said "have done with it," so pardon this digression. I've been saying that a lot, and it's because I have this clip thing in my head of someone saying it, and it's driving me crazy trying to remember where it's from. It's all so vague. This guy is like "Why don't you just something something something and have done with it!" I can't tell who the guy is, what his voice sounds like, what he's telling this person to do--anything. I can just sort of hear the expression and inflection in the voice. He kind of spits the phrase out, emphasizing "have done." And he's British maybe?. I think saying "have done with it," instead of "be done with it," is a vaguely British thing. OH OH OH! I think I know now! He's not British at all! It's Jonah Hill's six year old kid skit on SNL! I'm ridiculous. Look it up, by the way, it's super funny. Oh wait. No. i just watched it. It's not there. Bother and fiddlesticks. It's driving me INSANE that I can't remember what it is! Arg. I'll update this when I figure it out, if ever...

My neuroticisms exposed...

Anything...blah...

So, is it ridiculous that I am up right now? It's ridiculous.

I like to pretend it's still jet lag, but that sounds pretentious and dumb. It is partially jet lag, but it's also the fact that I'm sick, took a benadryl, and gave in to sweet, sweet sleep at 2 in the afternoon, after having awakened not until eleven.

So it's nearly five am, and I've been reading (Clayburn series by Deborah Raney--check them out, they're good), and watching Christmas movies off my DVR (don't get too excited--no good classics, just junky Lifetime originals--huzzah!), and looking at Facebook pictures of everyone else's holidays, and checking up on blogs. By the way, I'm impressed at your keeping up, Joyous. Would that I would continue to be so faithful.

Anyhow, blogging is difficult when, in December, sunshine and seventies are calling your name outside a window that showcases downtown LA and leaks in marching music from the Rose Parade marchers in the Dodgers' parking lot. Some noisy neighbors, those Dodgers. In a good way, though.

Just saying, California is nice. Oh, is it nice. And I missed an earthquake by a day! I left Wednesday, earthquake on Thursday. SoCal was just so sad to see me go, it just couldn't contain its grief. It was shudder-y type sobs for my absence. Funny joke.

I think I'm going to make this an all-nighter (an all-nighter?! after 21?! I never thought I'd see the sunrise again! I feel so old sometimes...). It's to that point where there's just no way you're going to get a satisfying sleep. Like if I went to bed now, I'd either 1. make myself arise at 8 and be a wreck for the rest of the day or 2. sleep in until 1 in the afternoon, feel like a pig for the rest of the afternoon, and then repeat the sleeplessness cycle all over again. And number two isn't an option because I have to get my brother to physical therapy at 11:30. Hence, all-nighter. How bad can it be?

It can be bad. I haven't done this since I was like...16. It's scary to me that that was kind of a long time ago. It feels weird that I can't still say I'm sixteen. Of course, that may just be because it's five in the morning. But I've always had this weird fixation with disbelief at my real age. Not like I'm in denial, like I hate that I'm this "aged," but just a stoner-like (not that I would know anything about stoner-like anything) "whoa, dude, seriously, how can I be old enough to drive?" I'm kind of moronic sometimes.

On another note, I know it's slightly past new years, but I'm still in the new years-y type mood. My NY was nice, but the party was partially outside, and I was cold, and old, and tired, so things felt slightly lacklustre and anti-climactic. And I was away from home. So now I feel like being all new years-ish and stating my intentions for the year.

Numero Uno: more quality time with me and the Lord. I'm such an unmitigated jerk about Him and me sometimes. He deserves super much more than I tend to give.

Secondly, ugh, exercise. Put those fancy MTV yoga/pilates DVDs to good use, get out the old running shoes (which are already out b/c I brought them to California), and just general health promotion. For example, I've decided I may only have one regular size, regular soda a week. I can't quit cold turkey--I've tried.

I also am trying to get up a level or two on my math placements. It would shave quite a bit of time and money off my schooling. So I'll be working on jolly numbers this semester that I have off.

And speaking of the semester off, I have great intentions for it. I plan on being more consistent with my Italian lessons, doing some scrapbooking, reading some good books, exercising more, reading my Bible more in depth, finishing my dad-blamed novel once and for all, and one of the most important things right now, helping out better around the house. My mom gave me a list, and I feel like it'll be more pleasant to do them because she wants them to get done, rather than because I'm made to. I'm stupid, but I, against my own better judgment, resent being told that I have to do things. Isn't that the nature of us all, friends? Anyhow.

I've only killed about twenty minutes writing this, hopefully you haven't killed as much reading it. But I'm going to go find some stuff to do before I fall asleep and ruin everything. Good morning, all!