Bah Humbug

After last night's freak snow storm piled Evansville high with white, I'm starting to reconsider my holiday plans.

Of course, Christmas has been a sore spot for me since middle school. The limbo between family members that hate each other makes for a nauseating couple of days. Since my last paternal connection to the Evansville area disappeared last May, my brother and I were bound for Illinois to spend tomorrow and Christmas Eve morning with my dad and stepmom. Now with traffic conditions as they are, I'm not sure I'm willing to risk the trek that incapacitated my intrepid Ford Taurus last Thanksgiving (that bridge over the Wabash is killer).

Even if I did make it safely to Mt. Vernon, there's a chance we could get snowed in over there and I'd miss Christmas with the people who (let's be honest) are more important to me (especially a certain Helsinki-bound friend:) ). The more I think about it, the more I just want to call the whole Illinois trip off. This could be the best Christmas ever. Why should my family be able to turn it into a nightmare?

The final countdown

In the middle of procrastinating while I should be studying finals, I did some basic math. Now, it's been a while since I've taken a math course, but according to my calculations...

In 2 days, I'll be in Evansville.
In 38 days, I'll be in Dublin.
In 133 days, I'll be in Helsinki.

But, really, who's counting?

Boxer rebellion?

It SNOWED today, a fact which caused Margaret and I to wonder if the Sammy Boxer Run would indeed proceed as usual this year after the power outage antics. For those unfamiliar with Taylor's annual tradition of male near-nudity, the Boxer Run occurs on the first snow of the year (or around that time) and involves Sammy men racing to and from the Bell Tower clad only in boxer shorts. Wengatz men meanwhile pelt them with snowballs and generally rough them up.

This past week several men were suspended for JTerm for streaking from their dorm to the Bell Tower during the power outage, according to personal reports. If that's all these men did, I don't see how the Boxer Run could legally continue. Granted, there might be key differences as to the degree of nudity, but I believe this tradition is treading on thin ice. Maybe that's for the best. If the Boxer Run falls victim to the post-power outage PR purification process, I won't lose any sleep.

Party on.

It's not hard to get Vance to let us have a party instead of class, so that's exactly what we're doing today for PSY 310: Integration of Psychology and Christianity. Everyone gave Matt two dollars and we planned to eat food and sit around. Then we realized that today a bunch of people would be fasting because of last Friday morning's antics, so no food. Matt suggested we send the money (about $60) to a mission organization and everyone was all about that. We also decided that instead of sitting around we'd go to the nursing home and sing for the residents. Now that's a party.

Mary is a single mother?

Joseph is still missing from the Taylor nativity scene. Kari suggested that the guys who did it should have to stand in for Joseph for the rest of the semester. Punishment might fit the crime, eh?

Here's some more media coverage of the event from Muncie's NewsLink Indiana.

MSTified

The other day, Margaret and I blew off studying and watched MST 3K. I forgot how much I loved that show. We watched Squirm, which was quality. Just now, I was reminiscing about MST 3K episodes gone by and remembered one of my favorite lines from The Final Sacrifice.

Troy: You knew my father?
Grizzled old prospector: Knew him? He was delicious!

It's beginning to look a lot like Baghdad

**Update**
According to Shaps, according to Ron Sutherland, the "fire" in the library this morning was just some small keypad that shorted out and started smoking. It set off the smoke detector and, for whatever reason, this required seven fire trucks, one ambulance and two cop cars.

****

I've counted at least 5 fire trucks and an ambulance outside of the library this afternoon. I have no idea what's happening (I just sent an e-mail to Shaps requesting more info), but this new Taylor crime thing is totally creeping me out.

It all started this past Friday when Upland's power company shut off all the electricity in the region around 1 a.m. to do some repairs. Of course, I only thought about how this affected my Echo deadline (which went fine, BTW. I think we set a record for earliest Echo submission, at least since we went to broadsheet). When 1 a.m. rolled around, I was in bed. Call me naive, but I figured the rest of the campus would turn in early as well. I couldn't have been more wrong.

When the lights went off at 1, hundreds of Taylor students poured out of the dorms. What started out as a night of fun turned into something much more sinister. The final damage report has not yet been released, but the mob apparently broke into 5 campus buildings (including my dorm), set an unauthorized bonfire outside of Olson, desecrated the nativity scene, overturned a library bookshelf, and trashed the Dining Commons. Campus safety officers (including my good friend and campus safety director Mike Row) were taunted and treated with blatant disrespect. Officers from surrounding towns of Matthews and Van Buren begged Mike over the police scanner to come up and "get those Taylor hypocrites." It was a night of shame and embarrassment for the university and the student body.

For more information on the events of the night, see this open letter from Dr. G (Taylor's president) and an article in today's Marion Chronicle-Tribune (Note its placement below an article praising IWU for helping at a nursing home. A time for humility...).

Among the felonies committed were theft, vandalism and indecent exposure. I've heard about how mobs make people do crazy things, but this is ridiculous. It's scary to be on a campus where this kind of thing takes place, especially considering the glee with which these events were carried out. Cliff has asked me to lock my bedroom door for the rest of the semester and I'm more than happy to oblige. I know I live on the third floor and the chances of me getting attacked are pretty slim, but this stuff is SERIOUS. How did this happen? What went wrong? Who was responsible? How can we stop it?

Pray for Taylor, for our administrators and our students. The story is far from over. At the moment, all I have are questions. No answers.

Christmas Banquet 2004

Here's my wing with Santa at the Christmas Banquet. Cat, Kari, Kash, Bethany, Kate, Ryn, me, Janell and Christianna.

Beach bum

I'm going back to where I came from
So far away, but not so far from home
Where I lay my head down by the sea
I'm going back to where we'd go
So far away,but not so far from home
Where I'd rest, where I'd lay so peacefully

-"One More Minute" by Authority Zero

The beach sounds amazing right now. Sometimes (though not very often) I get these strong urges to be back in Hawaii listening to waves rolling into Anaehoomalu Bay. Maybe I'm just tired of cornfields and icy sidewalks.

Hawaii is no where in sight, though. That's fine. The yearning will subside. Still, hearing about our beachside accomodations in Ireland fills me with excitement. It won't be the same as A-Bay, but that's probably a good thing! I just want to watch the ocean.

When I used to go to Camp Erdman on Oahu, there was this picnic table by the beach that my friends would go to all the time. We called it Koinonia, mostly because we liked the name. Chris used to say it was the most peaceful place on earth. He might have been right.

It's been a long time since a place has given me a sense of peace. I've had moments in the past few weeks where I'll feel this deep sense of serenity, but it's not a particular place that brings it on. I'm looking forward to Ireland's true natural beauty. From what I hear it's one of those places that inspires communion with God. Until then, I'll be at the beach... if only in my mind.

Final stretch

I'm counting down the days until Christmas break. 17 including today.

In 17 days, I'll say good-bye to Upland until next fall. I honestly can't wait.

Upland is a nice place and all, but it gets old after two and a half years. I realized as I drove up after Thanksgiving Break just how familiar this place has become. It's hard to believe that only a few short years ago, I was a stranger here.

But all the familiarity doesn't make Upland home. My heart is elsewhere right now. I'm filled with anticipation for the future. I feel like a little girl in a frilly white dress waiting impatiently for church to end so she can run outside and jump in the mud. I'm ready for an adventure.

Eternal Sunshine?

What if you could take a pill and wake up tomorrow with all of your memories of your horrible ex-boyfriend/girlfriend erased forever?

I know I'm late on this one, but I must admit I'd held off on viewing last spring's TU cult classic Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind until last night.

Before last weekend, I would have loved this movie without knowing why. I've always paraded around as a deep movie watcher. I'm not. I never have been. There are very few movies that I've actually examined to understand why I love/hate them. Usually, I just say, "Wow. That movie made me think," and let everyone believe that I was still thinking when I'd really moved on to other stuff.

But last weekend, I realized just how dangerous such an attitude can be. On Tuesday at dinner, Emily was analyzing movies, unveiling what they were actually saying beyond the happy characters and romantic moments. I decided to try my newly discovered analyzing skills on this one. Bear with me... I am a novice.

The Good:

There are several aspects of the movie that indeed ring true. First, I'll examine those.

Clementine warned Joel at the onset of their relationship, "I'm not a concept. Too many guys think I'm a concept or I complete them or I'm going to make them alive, but I'm just a [messed] up girl who is looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours."

While relationships should involve unity of purpose (see Boundless), no person can complete you or make you come alive. Only God can do that. Of course, Clementine doesn't reach that conclusion, leaving Joel to say later, "I still thought you were going to save me. Even after that."

The most truthful exchange in the show comes at the end:

Joel: I don't see anything I don't like about you.
Clementine: But you will! But you will, and I'll get bored with you and feel trapped, because that's what happens with me.
Joel: Okay.
Clementine: Okay.

The denial of this fact is the foundation of the divorce culture. People believe love is a feeling when in reality it's a choice, a choice which must be made daily. In Generation Ex, Jen Abbas writes:

No doubt about it, humans are a flawed group. We fail to live up to our own lofty experiences every day. Does that mean we should quit trying? Of course not! The athlete doesn't quit practicing in the midst of pain. He keeps at it because the goal of winning offers more satisfaction than any relief from his present discomfort. A mountain climber is not satisfied with attempting to climb Mount Everest. The pleasure comes with reaching the summit. No one who's been married will tell you that the union is easy, but any couple who has celebrated a fiftieth anniversary will testify that the sum of the ebb and flow of marital satisfaction is far more fulfilling than the strain of any particular incident. In fact, it's often through the trials, one might argue, that a marriage is strengthened. Few things are more deeply satisfying than accomplishing that which was thought impossible.

The Bad/Ugly:

So many movies act like infidelity is okay. Eternal Sunshine is no different. Joel leaves Naomi to be with Clementine. There are zero consequences. Dr. Mierzwiak's infidelity with secretary Mary does reveal a little consequence through his wife's hopeless tears and Mary's vindictive actions against the company, but more damage was done than that. He mentions he has children, yet nothing is said of their pain. How typical. Even the movies teach us to ignore the most innocent victims of divorce/adultry.

In actuality, Joel and Clementine have a pretty hopeless relationship. There is no real committment, and yet they've given themselves completely to each other. Joel does not fight for Clementine's heart (although the moment when he tells her she's pretty is beautiful) and Clementine never reinforces Joel's strength. No wonder they chose to forget.

The Conclusion:

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind made me think. No, seriously, I was expecting to like it more, but I felt the same sense of emptiness I got at the end of Garden State. I've heard this movie praised for its realistic portrayal of human relationships, but when I break it down, I see just how Hollywood this movie still was. I hope I have more to look forward to than this movie offers.

Diagnosis: Spiritual Autism

This is my column which will run in tomorrow morning's Echo. I suppose you could say I'm scooping myself. :)

Sometimes, I can relate to the Rainman.

While only 10 percent of all autistic people display special talents like Dustin Hoffman’s character, Rainman poignantly reveals the dimensions of this tragic disorder.

Autism is characterized by an inability to relate and extreme aloneness. Doctors can usually identify autism before a child reaches the age of 3. It affects five out of every 10,000 children.

We watched a video clip in Abnormal Psychology where UCLA’s Dr. Ivar Lovaas taught Lisa, a young autistic girl, to sit down in a chair. Children like Lisa don’t look into people’s eye. In fact, they don’t acknowledge other people’s existence. They stare into space, completely unaware of a world beyond themselves. When touched, they scream and contort their faces. They seem impossible to get through to.

Lovaas continuously pushed Lisa down into the chair after commanding, “Sit, Lisa.” He would reinforce her good behavior with an edible treat and a hug. For a long time, Lisa screamed at the hugs and the pressure to sit in the chair. Then Lovaas made a breakthrough; he kissed her on the cheek.

Suddenly, Lisa was conscious. Her eyes brightened and her mouth transformed from a scream to a full-on smile. She looked Lovaas in the eyes as he praised her for “good sitting” and “good looking.” A simple kiss changed Lisa from a vacant shell to a bright-eyed girl. Such is the power of love.

Sometimes, I feel autistic. I’d never be diagnosed by the psychological definition, but when it comes to the reality of the spiritual realm, I lack an awareness of God and his power. I long for connection, but I’m trapped inside this vacant shell.

For so long I’ve lived in my own little world, content to arrange and rearrange the aspects of my life most familiar to me. I’ve been afraid to reach out, to look God in the eyes. I guess I wasn’t sure what He’d see there.

What Lovaas did in Lisa was indescribably beautiful. He woke her up with a kiss! Isn’t that a dream all us sleeping beauties share?

If Lisa could break free from her autistic stupor, so could I. This summer, I looked God in the eyes. Instead of shrinking at His touch, I gave in to it. The simple act involved considerable vulnerability, but He didn’t abandon me. He pushed me down in my chair, told me I was good and kissed me.

Now, don’t get me wrong. That Date-With-God stuff is nonsense; He and I are not romantically involved. It was a Fatherly kiss, an “I will never leave you nor forsake you” kiss, a Megan’s-heart-is-good kiss.

Without early, consistent intervention, autistic people do not recover from their disorder. I still struggle with wanting to control my own familiar space and sink further into myself, but through God’s power, I know I can beat this spiritual autism. As I stare wide-eyed into the future, I know I’ve made a connection beyond my self-absorbed prison. I can hear God saying, “Good sitting, Megan. Good looking.”

You're invited!

I have the cutest grandparents EVER!!! Seriously, they're adorable. They just sent me an invitation to their Thanksgiving. I don't think they've ever sent invitations before. They said I can come over anytime for any meal. I almost started crying when I read that.

Ever since my parents separated, holidays have been especially hard. They're supposed to be a special time of enjoying family, but it's not easy to do that when my loved ones can't even sit in the same room. It's really difficult when I have to miss things because no one else in my family has a broken home. Other family members plan things and if I can go, that's nice, but if not, oh well. By saying that I could let them know the best time for me and they'd work around my schedule, my grandparents are telling me that my time is special to them.

I love my grandparents so much. They are two of the most incredible people I've ever known. I'm looking forward to this break for several reasons. It's nice to know that family can be one of them.

Stretch Sammy

Margaret and I decided Sammy (the statue where he's holding the book outside of the fountain) is too wide and flat. He looks like Gumby.

Beware the Ides of... November

Things are generally going well for me right now, although I've basically checked out of college life for the time being. I'm leaving a few days early for Thanksgiving Break and can think of nothing else. I never thought I'd be this excited about going to Evansville. It's funny how one person can make the trek so worth it. :)

Bob loaned me an incredible book for while I'm on break. It's called Generation Ex by Jen Abbas and I've already cried reading it. I'm only about 20 pages in! It's exciting to uncover this new resource for my healing journey. I'll be sure to let you know if I still recommend it after I finish.

We had the Junior Bagging tonight, which was fun. Margaret and I were the only reps from our wing, so we sat with some of my friends from freshman year. The event had a Hawaiian theme (gag me with a kiawe thorn), but I chose not to don any cultural garb. The Alumni Relations ladies gave us our garment bags (I wonder if they hate their jobs) and Margaret and I headed out for Dr. Smith's pride lecture. The lecture was good, but the room was really warm, so now I just want to go to sleep. Mmmm... sleep.

Romans 8:32

"He who did not spare his own son, but gave Him up for us all -- how will he not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things?" --Romans 8:32

I've been meditating on this verse lately. As anyone who's been within a 50-foot radius of me the past two days can attest, I'm very happy right now. I'm seeing my deepest desires fulfilled, desires I'd forgotten I even had! It's a very exciting time in the life of Megan Elder right now.

I'm constantly reminded of all the blessings I've been given, especially in the past few months. I don't want to screw anything up, but that's not the point, anyway. I want to grab hold of the life I've been given. I want to be healed, to be a new creation. I want to be the woman God intends me to be. I won't ever let this pass me by.

Happy... happy

I got back from the Echo early last night. We were done by 2:30 a.m.! Best of all, I got a parking spot in the English lot. It felt like Christmas.

Tomorrow is Broomball and I'm so excited. This year, I'm taking a guy I really like (and have actually known for more than five minutes). I'm trying to remember what last year was even like, but everything from that time is kind of a blur.

It's beautiful outside right now and only mildly chilly. It's supposed to stay nice for the rest of the weekend. I'm very happy right now.

Departure from the norm

Does this happen anywhere else?

Today, half of my Digital Tools class was gone on a field trip to see an illuminated manuscript. Shaun didn't want everyone else to fall behind, so he took those of us that remained to Vecinos and bought us all drinks! Then we went back to the Mac lab and watched about ten minutes of Shrek 2. That was my class! Too fun.

I love it when professors do that. Sometimes we get so focused on our work that we never notice the people around us. I got to know some of the girls in my class today that I'd never really talked to. They're all so nice! I'm so thankful for the opportunity to relax.

So instead of learning InDesign, I got a chance to fellowship with some amazing girls, drink a free mocha and watch Shrek 2. Thanks for the nice break, Shaun.

Somewhere I belong

It's funny how the lyrics of a song will explain my emotions better than I ever could. Lately, I've been realizing my need for God to heal all my past wounds. I was working out in the Well and this song by Linkin Park spun out of my discman. I had to stand back and say, wow... that's me!

(When this began)I had nothing to say
And I get lost in the nothingness inside of me
(I was confused) And I let it all out to find
That I’m not the only person with these things in mind
(Inside of me) But all the vacancy the words revealed
Is the only real thing that I’ve got left to feel
(Nothing to lose) Just stuck/ hollow and alone
And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own

I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real
I wanna let go of the pain I’ve held so long
(Erase all the pain till it’s gone)
I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m close to something real
I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along
Somewhere I belong

And I’ve got nothing to say
I can’t believe I didn’t fall right down on my face
(I was confused) Looking everywhere only to find
That it’s not the way I had imagined it all in my mind
(So what am I) What do I have but negativity
’Cause I can’t justify the way, everyone is looking at me
(Nothing to lose) Nothing to gain/ hollow and alone
And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own

I will never know myself until I do this on my own
And I will never feel anything else, until my wounds are healed
I will never be anything till I break away from me
I will break away, I'll find myself today

I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m somewhere I belong
I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m somewhere I belong
Somewhere I belong

Conferenced out

Got back from Nashville last night. Quite an experience; very different from last year in that I was the only person from last year's group, we weren't staying in the same hotel as the conference (we had to drive 15 minutes to get there) and we didn't fly, we drove.

None of those are necessarily bad things. In fact, everything worked out rather nicely. Instead of staying up until the wee hours throwing things from the 20th floor with Wes, Joe and Jim, this year's group went to bed before 11 p.m. and watched about 5 episodes of Law & Order. Everything was quieter, more laid back and less stressful in general.

Also, I got to see Erin and Simone. Things have sure changed since June! Mike Longinow (one of our Journalists in Residence from SIJ) spoke at a few sessions that I went to, so it was great catching up with him. Rumor has it TMatt did some sessions, too, but I managed to avoid those.

Conferences are exhausting! I was ready to come back and get done with things. We only have four more weeks of actual classes (not counting the week of Thanksgiving and finals). I'm so ready to be done with this semester! It looks like I missed a Cosgrove sex talk while I was gone, but nothing happened in any of my other classes. Ok... let's get these four weeks out of the way.

My "Main" Mitch

So this morning's edition of USA Today dubbed newly elected Indiana governor Mitch Daniels "My Main Mitch" (check out 11A). Gotta love the typos! Why is it so fun to catch them in other publications but it STINKS to catch them after the Echo's gone to press?

Sweet concessions.

So G. Dubs didn't follow the Redskins lead. Way to mix it up.

I'm leaving in less than 20 minutes for the Campus Media Advisers' Conference in Nashville. We'll be listening to NPR on the ride down, so I'll hear both concession and acceptance speeches. I'm excited about seeing Simone and Erin (maybe Grant?), but I'm not looking forward to losing 12 hours of my life on the road.

Back at TU, WOW is in full swing and the DC has gone into multicultural sensory overload. Today I sat down at a table with some girls from my wing and three men. The men were all speaking French. I love listening to other people speak in other languages (even though I can't understand anything). Being multilingual is such a romantic notion. I wish I spoke another language. Pidgin doesn't count.

Anyway, I just liked listening to them. One guy asked me what my major was (in English) and I told him Mass Communication. He laughed at me! He said I was too timid! Katherine came to my rescue, saying that I was probably tired. I think I am timid, though. I'm not cut out for this stuff.

Sleep theory.

There's a theory that human beings only need 5.5 hours of sleep per night. 5.5 hours is the minimum time required to hit each stage of sleep and get the necessary amount of time in REM sleep.

Of course, Dr. Cosgrove says you won't realize the benefits of this schedule unless you allow yourself about 30 days to acclimate. If your body is used to 8 hours, it's not going to take 5.5 hours without a fight. I don't think I care to test the theory myself (at least not on purpose).

Start praying for an upset.

According to Anders "what the" Helquist, the presidential election was decided today. Since 1936, the outcome of Washington Redskins home football games has correctly predicted the winner of each U.S. presidential election. If Redskins win, the incumbant wins. If Redskins lose, the challenger wins.

Today, the Redskins lost.

It's time to break the trend. Start praying for an upset.

Moving on up

We got a new paper towel dispenser in the Third South bathroom. It's not automatic like the super-nice ones in Los Brovos or BW3s. Still, it's better than the old one that randomly fell apart and hit people in the head.

Scarlet Women of English Hall

Someone declared today "English girls wear red day." My PA sent around an email two days ago telling us all to wear red as a show of sisterhood. I had a debate this morning and since I don't own a dressy red shirt, I wore my suit with a blue tank top underneath.

I really have no desire to wear red in some pathetic attempt to prove my allegiance to a residence hall. Whatever pride I once had in English has dissipated this year. I'll be out in less than two months, anyway.

Take a Wok

Tonight is Wok Night in the DC. I'm so excited! It's the night when all of Taylor's Asian kids (all twelve of them) cook dinner for the entire campus. The event is sponsored by AAA, the Asian Awareness Association. I have a problem with this name. Usually "awareness" in an organization denotes a disease or disorder, like AIDS awareness or cancer awareness. A nationality is not a disease.

While I could never eat Asian food every day, I enjoy it once in a while. There are a few things I dislike about the DC's Wok Night, though.

1. Big crowds. For some reason, it takes FOREVER to get food on Wok Night. Last year, I had a meeting that got postponed an hour because people were stuck in the wok line.

2. Hidden chopsticks. I can't eat Asian food without chopsticks. It just doesn't taste the same. However, the DC doesn't generally supply such utensils, so after asking 50 people where the chopsticks are, I resentfully resort to my fork. After I've finished eating, I'll look at the next table over, fully furnished with chopsticks. This always happens without fail.

3. The smell. I don't mind the smell of Asian food when I'm hungry, but I'm not a fan of the stench that lingers on my clothes and hair for the rest of the night. Fortunately, everyone else on campus smells the same as I do.

Beyond these few things, I enjoy Wok Night tremendously, especially since tonight is also a meeting of the CHECKERBOARD MENAGERIE!!! *cryptic wink*

------- Totally unrelated sidenote...

I know I said I wouldn't post anything else on this topic, but I guess I'm a liar. Here goes. I just received confirmation that I did, indeed, have a passing grade when I withdrew from Typography. My transcript now reads WP!!! Rejoice.

The worst timing EVER

JOSH GARRELS IS COMING TO TAYLOR ON WEDNESDAY!!!!!

I've been waiting for this concert all year!!!!!

I have to work. Drat. :(

Anywhere but here.

It's times like these when I wish my address was still 321 8th St. NE, Washington, D.C. 20002. I wish I could still walk the National Mall to clear my head. I wish I could escape into the anonymity of a million different Starbucks wherever I looked.

Instead I'm here, longing for the future while I plug away at this week's projects. The work no longer has any meaning to me. I have no pride in it.

I'm not really dreaming of Washington. It was a fabulous season, but I'd have no life there now. No, I just miss the freedom. At least there, I was supposed to be unknown. Here, I'm supposed to be a part of this "community," but I can't help feeling nameless. I reluctantly accept one more forced hug in an effort to feel more normal. I have to wonder, though, does this person hugging me really care?

Taylor is nice when I play along with the "I'm fine" game, but it can be cold when I struggle with real issues. I guess I'm feeling this way because I've had a taste of something so much better. It's not about being cared for out of compulsion because I'm part of some "community," it's about being important to someone just because I'm Megan Elder.

I'm not sure if this post makes any sense. Oh well.

Fall Break withdrawl

I've only been back at Taylor for two and a half hours, but I can't seem to make myself do anything productive. I'm still in break-mode. Even though we only got one day off, it was a fabulous escape.

I had an amazing break, complete with a friend, baseball, birthday celebration, a new baby, successful lasagna, clean laundry and Barnes & Noble. The drive wasn't bad, especially with the breathtaking Southern Indiana scenery. I made it in 4-hours or less both ways.

I got to see the Wilson's new baby, Kael, on Saturday. He was a week old and was the smallest human being I've ever seen. I held him for a while, which was super-embarrassing because I wasn't quite sure what I was doing. Kevin and Esther were exhausted, but looked happy. It was neat to hang out with them for a bit.

The break flew by, and now I'm back here with a week of projects and tests looming over me. I appreciated the escape, but I'm having a heard time getting back into the swing of things. Oh well. I'll worry about that stuff tomorrow. I wouldn't take my break back for anything. I had fun. :)

Wake up, O Sleeper.

I just finished reading Waking the Dead by John Eldredge. I know, I'm the slowest reader ever to touch a book, but I love to take my time when it comes to reading, especially if the book is worth it. This book was worth it.

It opened my eyes to a God I'd been ignoring for the past seven years. A God who set me free from my past. A God who aches to heal my wounds. A God who treasures my heart.

After I returned from D.C. last summer, my mom told me I should read Waking the Dead. I nodded and said I'd add it to my list, although I never intended to crack the cover. She purchased a copy for me in case I ever got around to it. She must have known I'd be needing it soon. I was about to have a revelation.

I had it all wrong. I thought my heart was evil, that it was only by God's grace I could ever be loved. Then one late-summer night in JoJo's, something roused me from my slumber. That night, I took my copy of Waking the Dead off the shelf and continued to shed my theological cocoon.

The past few months have been a journey. Each day, I awaken to new truths about my God and my faith. The funny thing is, these truths all contradict everything I thought I believed. MAC always warns about playing church. I'd been playing Christian.

The most scary thing about this new knowledge is the startling reality of spiritual warfare. For the first time, I recognize my intrinsic value to God. Satan HATES that. He's going to throw everything he has at me. He'll break in at any possible entrance. He'll see my weaknesses and capitalize on them. Am I strong enough for this?

No, but better is he that is in me than he that might steal my joy. One of my favorite verses is 2 Corinthians 12:10, "That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. " I claim this promise daily. I'm at war. It's time to wake up.

Wake up, O Sleeper and raise your head,
The Lord's gonna raise you from the dead.
Shine on. Shine on.
Dead men walk around left and right,
The Lord's gonna heal them with his light.
Shine on. Shine on.
Christ my savior and my strength,
He's gonna take care of everything.
Shine on. Shine on.
Crucified savior rise from that grave.
Tell me now, brother, do you wanna be saved?
Shine on. Shine on.

-Josh Garrels, "Shine On"

Foreign coinage

We have a separate slot in the ZonLab money box for all the foreign change we get. Right now, we have currency representing Canada, Lithuania and Zimbabwe. Probably not the most honest way to pay for your prints, but it makes for a great conversation piece.

FaceBook

I've been needing to blog about this for a long time, but I'm just now getting around to it. Here goes.

A week or so ago, someone at Taylor launched a Web site called "Taylor FaceBook." It was probably just an attempt to find out the dating status of people on campus, but whatev. Basically, it's a directory for which Taylor students can sign up to be included. You can post photos and enter information to your profile about your political views, favorite movies, and (of course) dating status.

Probably the funniest thing about this directory is the "network" function. You identify your group of friends and get connected to your friends' friends and their friends' friends and so on. To identify someone as your friend, you have to request that person's friendship. The Web site then sends and automated e-mail to that friend asking him or her to "confirm or deny" your friendship. I don't think I've been "denied" yet, but can you imagine how devastating that could be?

Anyway, it's an interesting concept and a great way to waste time before class.

Break out the scrapers!

This morning I had to scrape the ice off my windows before church. THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!!! Why is it so cold all of a sudden? Janell said this is supposed to be the coldest winter of all time. I'm glad I'll be in Ireland. :)

After church, I went over to Laura's for lunch. She has a pretty sweet house. Jerod was there, too, because he's on Fall Break. Everyone else gets so much time off for Fall Break. We just get next Friday. That's not "fall break," that's "fall day." Grr.

I can't remember where I put my winter clothes. I thought I brought some up with me, but I don't know where they are. I've been rotating the same four sweatshirts throughout the week. Margaret's been wearing her fuzzy house slippers to class. I should wear mine, but I'm afraid they'll get wet. There's no reason to dress up for class. No reason.

Passing the time.

Last night I saw Napoleon Dynamite for the third time. I can't believe it's still on in theaters (at least in Muncie). Thank God for the spending habits of Ball State students.

This time, I went with Margaret and Jenny. The movie itself didn't get any better, but it was so fun be be there with my friends. We were the only ones in the theater, so we could laugh and talk about things as much as we wanted without feeling embarrassed.

It's freezing here right now. Yesterday it got REALLY cold all of a sudden. In the morning it was warm, but by the time chapel rolled around, I was thankful for my hoody sweatshirt.

Right now I'm working in the JLab, subbing for Michelle. I could have subbed in the ZonLab today, too, but I get paid ten cents more an hour in here. Plus, I don't have to sit in that horrible tall chair for four hours. The JLab feels like home anyway.

Biting wit from the competition

Just thought I'd share a little hilarity from The Integration of Ink and Paper (a publication of the campus organization Integration of Faith and Culture). It's from Joe Ringenberg's column titled, "The only opinion column you need..."

His premise is that all of the Echo's letters to the editor fall into eight tried-and-true catagories. While all of them were quite amusing, I especially enjoyed #5's commentary on the difference between men and women.

"Girls on campus still want to know what guys are looking for in The Perfect Woman. Guys on campus still want to know why we don't get ESPN anymore."

Oh, Ringenberg, thou hast hit it! Come write for The Echo. We need you!

No fear.

I’ve been studying Proverbs 31:10-31 for the past several months. I started last January, but it’s taken me a while because I am so inconsistent with my quiet times. Even though I’ve stretched it out so far, I’ve been encouraged and challenged by the passage, especially this morning.

As I read over the entire passage again, a verse caught my eye that I’d totally missed a few months ago.

“When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet” (v.21).

When I read it before, all I could see was the obvious implication that the Proverbs 31 woman provides clothes for her family. I thought, “SHOOT! I can’t sew! Anytime I’ve tried, my stitches turn out crooked or I poke myself with the needle. Indeed, my family would be clothed in scarlet, but only because their clothes would be stained red with blood from my needle-pricked fingers. Get a freakin’ thimble. Gosh.

Today, instead of hearing a call to sew, I let the words “no fear” sink into my heart. I realized this woman does not worry. How very different she is from me! I worry about everything, from whether The Echo will get printed on time to whether I’ll have enough money to go to school to whether a certain guy thinks I’m special. But the Proverbs 31 woman doesn’t get caught up in all that. She’s confident.

Where does she get this confidence? I want some! Suddenly, I realized the answer was in the same verse. Her household (including herself) is “clothed in scarlet.” Christians always talk about how they’re covered by the blood of Jesus. Another word for “covered” is “clothed.” Blood is often described as “scarlet.” The Proverbs 31 woman found her confidence in God, in her salvation, in the hope she has in a life dedicated to Him. That is where I can find my confidence. I don’t need to worry anymore. I, too, can have no fear.

The TU drinking problem

Walking to class this morning, I noticed that a few people on campus had had a crazy weekend. Broken glass and brown liquid was all that remained on the sidewalk beside Wengatz this morning. Well, that and the former bottle's wrapper which read, "Yoohoo Chocolate Drink." Those crazy college kids.

The Java Jive revisited.

"I love coffee,
I love tea,
I love the Java Jive and it loves me.
Coffee and tea and the java and me,
A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup-- BOY..."

It's good to know my love for coffee has not waned, although it's an expensive vice. This morning I was barely holding on in my 8:00, so I figured I'd be doomed without a warm cup o' joe in Physio. But, alas, as I walked down the stairs to the ETC, I realized the money I'd loaned to a freshman over the weekend was the only money I had in my wallet. OH THE HORROR!

Fortunately, my good friend Sara heard my plight and loaned me a dollar for coffee. I stayed alert in Physio and am forever indebted to Sara Chambers.

On a funny note, Dr. Cosgrove also got into the Java Jive.

"I'm not addicted," he said, struggling to balance a thermos and a dry erase marker. "I just think it looks cool. Can't I look like a professor after 29 years?"

The joy of laundry

As I walked back from an agonizing 4.5 hour shift in the ZonLab, I started dreading the laundry room. I'd put two loads in the drier before I went off to work and the time had come to fold my clothes. Now, I don't mind folding clothes. In fact, I enjoy doing laundry in general, but tonight I had a headache and didn't want to deal with the zoo that is the English laundry room.

I descended the Cellar stairs and entered the room only to find my two loads folded in neat stacks on the table (folded very nicely, I might add). It just made my night.

my.taylor.edu

After a period of sustained reluctance, I'm starting to like the new campus portal. I got to add an hour to my ZonLab timesheet for attending one of the training sessions in the library. No one else came during my time, so Ian just explained it to me one-on-one. I was in and out in 10-minutes. Excellent.

Patience is a virtue.

I've been noticing lately how impatient I am. If a class goes one minute over, I freak out. Ok, so class isn't so bad. Time is money, yeah? But it gets worse.

Last night, I went to the Union with the girls for a small group leaders' meeting. Of course, we HAD to stop by Vecinos for coffee and we HAD to talk to Steve for a half hour. By the time we sat down, we had 15 minutes before I'd wanted to be back in my room studying Abnormal Psychology. We started in with the prayer requests and as the post-11:00 minutes ticked by, I got progressively more impatient. Here my friends are baring their hearts and all I can do is watch the clock. That's so bad! I'm utterly ashamed of myself.

Now that I have 10 extra hours in my week (dropping Typography does that), I can stop being such a freak. It might take a bit to drop the habit, but I want to. So next time I start tapping my fingers and watching the clock, slap me in the face. I'll thank you later.

The last typography post... I promise

I did it.

I dropped Typography. As of 11:15 a.m. today, I am a free woman.

Surprisingly, Bruce was incredibly non-threatening. I was waiting by his office this morning for him to sign my paper, and at first when he saw my drop slip, he acted angry. After I explained my situation, he said he completely understood and that he'd enjoyed having me in class. Aw. He also told me not to be a stranger and that he'd tell me when The Echo looks horrible. I told him he just better.

After turning in my form to the registrar, I stepped out into the sun with a new spring in my step. This isn't an ending, it's a beginning. It's a chance to do my best work ever without burning out. It's also a chance to enjoy life and enjoy the people God has so graciously put in my life. "This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it."

WP

Withdrawn/Passing. My new best friend.

This semester has had a lot of registration firsts for me. I dropped/added for the first time in September. Now I'm dropping Typography (as I've already made perfectly clear on this blog. I just have to keep repeating it in my head to remind myself it is really happening).

In a few hours, my transcript will read WP. As scary as that sounds, I've decided it's not so bad. If I ever have to explain it, I'll be happy to. At least it's not a WF (withdrawn/failing).

I worry I won't have enough credits to get off campus housing next year, but if I don't, Margaret and I will move to Swallow (which could potentially rock). The off campus info meeting is tonight, so I'll find out how probable my plan is then.

Sorry this is another registration post. What can I say, it's the most bloggable event I've experienced today.

Addicted to Chocolat

Let's be honest, most of the movies I've seen lately have been duds, just not worth blogging about. Then this afternoon I joined Margaret and the girls for a viewing of Chocolat. It was delicious.

A woman (Juliette Binoche) and her daughter move to a small French village and open a chocolate shop in the middle of Lent. Her disregard for weekly Mass and decadently "sinful" candies shake up the strict morality of the little village.

First off, it's impossible to watch this movie without a bag of M&Ms beside you. Fortunately, Tamara had given me a bag last Thursday night. It pays to be prepared.

The film itself is a feast for the senses. Binoche's character stands out in bright reds against the dingy browns and greys of the village. The characters range from sweet to insane while themes vary from love to death to religion.

Johnny Depp's performance left me a little cold. His "river rat" role seemed strangely reminiscent of Jack Sparrow (although this movie pre-dates Pirates of the Caribbean by three years).

Besides one flat performance, the acting is pretty flawless. The commentary on legalistic Christianity is also startlingly realistic. It's the perfect Sunday-afternoon-sit-back-and-crochet movie. 7/10

So this is happiness.

Apparently, I haven't been happy in ages. One of the freshmen told me this weekend was the first time she'd ever "seen me happy." Well, I suppose I had reason to be.

After a week of struggling to keep my head above water, I decided to let go of three credit hours. I'm taking my life back. Lately, I've been scaring people. Even Dr. Snyder told me I worried him last Friday in class. I'm neglecting relationships and I'm neglecting myself.

I used to love going to meetings because I thought they made me sound important. Now I realize how meaningless they are. I mean, sure, sometimes we need collective planning time, but are weekly meetings for every organization really necessary? I'm starting to hate meetings.

I'm realizing just how many of the things I've thought were important aren't important at all. Grades, projects, business... sure those things demand attention, but they shouldn't require the loss of my sanity.

This weekend was just what I needed. I didn't touch my homework, but ignoring my studies in and of itself didn't grant me happiness. A friend came up to visit me, and his mere presence elevated my spirits beyond recognition. He made me feel cherished and worthy. He offered me a hand and lifted me out of the pit I'd dug myself into. People noticed. It was incredible.

Now I must return to my studies (sans typography), but this weekend was beyond therapeutic. I'm thankful for this time. I'm happy.

"I'm ambivalent. It's my new favorite word"

So I'm a hypocrite. I haven't blogged the last two days, not necessarily to spite Matt, but because I really haven't had anything edifying to talk about.

After a chance encounter with my friend Kelly, I'm starting to feel more normal. I'm so glad I ran into her! I told her about my random crying spells and she said she's been dealing with them, too, and has heard of other girls with the same problem. Maybe it's something in the air. Today in Typography I almost lost it when Bruce told us about his older brother John Robert who died in a "horrific car accident" at the age of two. It was Compassion International chapel all over again. Makes me feel pretty pathetic for being sad for no reason.

I've almost decided to drop typography. I'm feeling rather ambivalent about it, though. I love the class, but I also hate it. I love working on projects, just sitting there and making something with my hands. I like not having to think and write papers. I like not having to analyze arguments. I can just zone out and paint. Then I hate the class when Bruce lectures for the full two hours and I can't understand half the things he says. Sometimes, he'll just be talking to me from two feet away, one-on-one, and I still can't hear a word coming out of his mouth. Speak up, man! I also hate how much time I must spend on the projects. I can't just whip something up five minutes before class. I hate finishing a project and realizing how flawed it is and how I really should do it again but it's 3 a.m. and the project is due the next day. UGH!!! Should I stay or should I go?

And now for a random excerpt from Girl, Interrupted:

Susana: Should I stay or should I go?
Dr. Wick: Am I sane or am I crazy?
Susana: Those aren't courses of action.
Dr. Wick: They can be. For some.

I need to watch that movie.

Quote of the Day

And the quote of the day goes to Dr. Mark Cosgrove, my physiological psychology prof.

"It's a lot easier to punch someone and knock them out than to spend a lot of money to get people to vote for you."

The dreaded missionary barrel... The blackhole of English Hall

Someone put my slippers in the missionary barrel. Who does that? Margaret had been looking for her slippers and she found them in there along with mine.

I have a horrible habit of taking off my shoes in people's rooms/random suites and leaving them in there. I guess this time it caught up with me. But in all my years of leaving things in other people's space, this is the first time someone's tried to give my stuff to charity. On second thought, that could be what happened to my 2CE hoodie freshman year. :(

Sunday Morning= Vacation

Last night I was talking to Emily in the DC and she asked me what it would be like if I just didn't do any work for an entire day. At first, this sounded crazy to my workaholic ears, but the more I thought about it, the more possible it seemed.

This morning at MAC, I realized anew how much I love being in that church. I'm a half hour away from all my school stuff and I can truly focus on worshipping my God. I can't even picture sleeping in on Sunday mornings like I used to all freshman year. I truly find rest when I'm at MAC.

There were all these international delegates in the service this morning. They talked about this impromptu worship session they'd had last night at Guy and Judy's where they all sang for a solid hour in their own languages. It made me long for China again (although I've been longing for China all week anyway).

At MAC, I'm starting to understand what the true body of Christ looks like. I'm also starting to see what eternity looks like and I'm not so afraid anymore.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

-- "It is Well with my Soul"

Childhood as a psychological disorder

While "working" in the Writing Center today, I flipped through my Abnormal Psychology textbook and an article caught me eye called "The Etiology and Treatment of Childhood" by Jordan W. Smoller. It's rather hilarious, identifying childhood as a "syndrome" marked by such symptoms as dwarfism, knowledge deficits and legume anorexia. Hahaha. Ok, I gotta get back to studying real abnormal psychology.

Biting the hand that feeds me

There's just no way around it. The Grille is a terrible, horrible institution and it's going down!

For those of you unfamiliar with Taylor University's meal options, we have two major centers of food distribution on campus. The Dining Commons (more commonly known as the DC) is where everyone eats every meal of every day. We also have The Grille which provides sustenance to seniors and people who can't make it out to the DC during regular meal hours. It's considered a special treat to eat at The Grille, although I don't know why; their food is nasty and greasy and always makes me sick.

I have a Grille transfer for Tuesdays and Thursdays because I have class and work through my lunch hour. I usually get my food, wolf down the main course and stick the rest in my office for later. I hadn't bothered to order a sack lunch because each time I've been to the Grille so far this semester, I've gotten through fine with the regular meal. So today when Shaun let us out of Digital Tools 20 minutes early, I rejoiced at the prospect of enjoying my lunch before I went to work at 1 p.m. in the library (No food allowed. They're fascist). I was pretty hungry by 12:40, since I'd slept through breakfast while I was dying of nasal drainage.

I got to the Union, grabbed a pizza, yogurt and a caramel apple, and headed for check out. But NO... Martha stopped me right there. She said, "The line doesn't open until 12:50." It was 12:45! Nevermind that I'd been through this line every Tuesday/Thursday for the past three weeks without problem. Sometimes, I even went between my 11:00 and my 12:00 and got away with a meal. But five minutes??? Give me a break.

So I waited. I verbally railed against the system, but I waited. When I at last made off with my lunch, I stuffed the entire pizza in my mouth and stashed the rest of the food in the Echo office on my way to the library.

The whole point in having Grille transfers is to feed students who don't have time. Then they make us wait! I don't even like the Grille. I didn't want to miss lunch in the DC on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but there was nothing I could do with my schedule. Meal transfers are just not worth the trouble they cause.

The demise of Handy Andy

Handy Andy is gone. In it's place we find a red-roofed imitation called Circle K. Let the tears stream down. Don't be ashamed.

While the only things that really changed were the roof (which used to be blue) and the name, it feels like a void exists where there once was none. Sure, the Circle K will operate in much the same way as Handy Andy, offering breadsticks, soda, coffee and donuts at all hours of the day and night, but that's not the point. We won't be able to go on "Handy Andy runs" anymore. We'll have to go on "Circle K runs." That's not right.

Of course we'll still call it Handy Andy. No amount of red paint can change that fact. Like a triumphant warrior rising from the fall, Handy Andy will survive, if only in the hearts and minds of TU students.

A place that needs to be believed to be seen

In an effort to escape Open House madness, Janell, Jenny, Margaret and I went to the Union for the Steve Stockman forum. Stockman wrote the book Walk On which chronicles the spiritual journey of U2. Basically, we just went there to listen to his Irish accent and drink coffee, but we got more than we bargained for.

As the other girls (who have already been to Ireland) waxed nostalgic, my excitement for next semester grew. The talk wasn't even about Ireland. It was about the role of art in the Church and how U2 has ministered to the world of rock. I was so expecting a pointless TMatt "Faith, Bruce and U2" lecture, but instead of a self-righteous American guy who looks like a dung beetle, I got a "stocky" Irish man with a heart for art in faith. Every Irish nuance triggered a thrill deep within me. I want to know the Irish people. I want to understand their history, their pain and their turmoil. Just a few more months!

For now, I'm in Upland and I guess that's cool. There's something inside of me, though, that longs for something more. Presently, I'll have to be content to dream of the Wicklow mountains, ancient castles and blue shores.

Living in covenant, profs included

Anders and I got into a debate last night over whether or not professors should sign the Life Together Covenant. He believes that because "non-traditional" students at the Ft. Wayne campus do not have to abide by the LTC, Upland profs should be able to drink and dance if they feel like it. Anders thinks maturity level should dictate to what extent one should follow the LTC.

It's not that I don't think our profs can handle a little fun; I'm sure most of them can. But I think the power of the LTC lies in the fact that although we can all do the things it tells us not to do, we choose to give them up for the good of the community.

I've always liked the idea that professors at Taylor abide by the same rules students do (i.e. they can't drink, have extramarital sex, gamble or dance). The giving up of these four activities leads to a stronger community. Sure the profs don't live with us, but neither do off-campus students. The community aspect of Taylor lies not only in its resident students but in all of its faculty and staff as well.

If fact, the LTC binds the Taylor community together. Since profs don't live with us, they sign the LTC as an act of participation in the community. One of the things I love about Taylor is that we don't really have any rules forced upon us by the school. Instead, we voluntarily commit to a set of guidelines which help us live out our faith in community. Granted, everyone at Taylor is required to sign the LTC, but if you don't want to sign it, why go to Taylor? I can understand some students are forced to come to Taylor by their parents or what not, but what is forcing a professor to work at Taylor? If they don't want to participate in the community by submitting to the LTC, why don't they work someplace else? It's not like we pay them anything, anyway.

The issue arose last night over the trouble with dancing. The LTC forbids "social dancing," but what exactly does that mean? I think there's a difference between clubbing (which is what I'd define as social dancing) and a husband and wife sharing an impromptu dance in the kitchen. A social setting usually involves more than one other person and usually takes place in a public arena. So within the limits of the LTC, I believe married professors (and students) can dance in private settings. The covenant's provision was established to condemn bumping and grinding, not romance.

The other point of contention hinged on alcohol consumption. At Taylor, alcohol is out of the question even if you are 21. Considering I've never enjoyed an alcoholic beverage (Mmm... beverage), I'm content to say alcohol is not a necessary part of life. Save your money for lattes. While I may not be the most authoritative person on alcohol, the point is not that alcohol is bad, but that it could be a stumbling block to other people in the community. Alcoholism is a serious problem in the United States today. Denying such would be ignorant.

The point? The LTC isn't really about rules and legalism. We spin it that way so we have something to argue about. As the covenant says, "We acknowledge that it is impossible to create a community with expectations that are totally acceptable to every member. Nevertheless, certain expectations must be specified to assure orderly community life. When individuals join the Taylor community, they freely and willingly choose to take upon themselves the responsibilities outlined in this covenant."

The LTC is about maintaining supportive relationships within the community. It would be a sin to exclude professors from this system just because they're old.

My Man Mitch at TU

Indiana governor hopeful Mitch "My Man" Daniels talks biology with TU student Kaitlin Getz. Daniels visited Taylor today to mingle with his large student/faculty following at the private Christian college. Note the always attractive Taylor baseball hat. Nice touch, Mitch. (Photo by me)

Chained Bible

Today in Typography, Bruce was mumbling on as he usually does, but somehow amid his swift, slurred speech and the hum of the air duct so aptly placed at the front of the classroom, I understood a story about his trip to New York with senior art students. They had visited the International Bible Society and got to look at all the old Bibles. One had a long chain attached to it and was completely handwritten. He asked why it had a chain on it and the Society people told him it was so no one could steal it back in the day. Back then, Bibles were in such short supply they actually had to chain them to the table so no one could walk off with them!

My family has an entire shelf of Bibles. We've got the children's editions, the Precious Moments, the Teen Devotionals... it's hard to picture a time when these books held such value. That's a sad statement right there if you think about it. Bibles contain the very word of God himself! Why don't we treasure them anymore? Why don't we have to worry about them getting stolen?

Maybe I'm lovable.

Ok, so this is pretty basic theology, but for the past seven-plus years, this fact has eluded me. It wasn't until today amid the primal roar of yelling Sammy boys that the essential truth of God's love finally clicked for me.

Jay Kesler, our beloved former president, spoke in chapel this morning. Usually, I enjoy his sermons but they're so random, I don't really follow them. Today his message rang true to the core of my being. What a rush!

The topic was love and community. Kesler extracted 5 steps to achieving community through love from the biblical writings of John. First, we realize God loves us, that He initiated this love, that the love is unconditional and that it becomes real when we reciprocate. In the second step, we receive his love, realizing that we are worth loving.

I haven't been able to surmount the third step. It requires me to accept myself. If God loves me then maybe I'm lovable. It's not rocket science, but for some reason I've been denying this truth and when I dog on myself, I'm not being humble; I'm spitting in God's face.

Jay pointed out the opposite of humility is bad, but the opposite of shame is good. I don't need to live in shame any more. I'm free to love and accept myself. Only then will I be able to love others.

The fourth step is to love others. I never put much stock in Roger's comment from Rent when he tells Mimi, "You'll never share real love until you love yourself." Suddenly I'm realizing it's true. The Bible commands me to love my neighbor as myself. As Jay said, if I hate myself, that's bad news for my neighbor!

I will only find community after I ascend these last two steps. It's not going to be easy to undo the mindset I've perpetuated by negative thoughts, but I have a powerful ally who loves me more than I could ever imagine. I am going to believe that I'm lovable because God said it.

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!

-- 1 John 3:1a

Snooze...

I haven't woken up to my alarm the past two days. Yesterday, Jess woke me up for church with one of Margaret's teddy bears. This morning, I don't even remember it going off, but I woke up to my roommate's alarm at 7:15 (mine was set for 6:45). I can't remember hitting snooze, and I know it was set for the right time...

I couldn't go to breakfast this morning because I woke up late. Don't cry for me, Argentina. I have Cocoa Puffs from the Grille.

GET TO CLASS!!! (muahaha)

Me as a PR tool

My Washington, D.C., story is on the Taylor Web site for prospectives, alumni and parents to enjoy. It's flattering to be the subject of a story for once, but it's also a little awkward. I don't know how I feel about the use of my experiences to draw students to Taylor. Granted, I wouldn't have been in Washington this summer if I hadn't gone to Taylor. I suppose it's fair.

I took the Rotunda photo, but Jim Photoshopped it so the background is lighter. I think I liked it dark so all the focus was on the casket, but whatever.

Commies (as in Comm. Arts Majors)

I just overheard a conversation in the hall between Ethan Daly and Jen Castellano. Actually it was all Ethan (naturally).

E: You're really girly.
Jen: Well...
E: I mean, did you lose a lot of fights growing up?

I miss those kids. Even though communications classes are out-of-control easy, I miss the people. Last semester, everyday was a party. Now I only see my comm buddies passing in the hall or working in the JLab. Not that I don't like my classmates now, it's just that comm majors are just a different breed. A lazy breed, but a fun breed nonetheless.

For the love of Steve

After our coffee maker broke down last night, we turned to Steve (The Echo's favorite barista) to satiate our caffeine craving. Thank you, Steve. The Echo would not happen without you. BTW, Matt Wissman took this photo.

Integrity in printing

I'm working in the ZonLab for the first time today. I have to sit in the really high "Lab Supervisor" chair and type with the keyboard in my lap. The screen is this really nasty yellow color. I tried changing the settings and it looks a little better, but it's still yellow.

I've already caught to kids trying to sneak off without paying for prints. One girl just didn't know and gladly coughed up a quarter. When another guy asked for an IOU slip, I said he could just leave his ID. He threw a dollar at me instead and walked away. I just made the Lab a $.75 profit. Nice.

There's a sign on the printer that says, "Integrity glorifies God. Let's use it. Pay for your prints!!!" Don't you just love Taylor?

Drop/Add

I'm psyching myself up right now to stroll over to the registrar's office and drop a class for the first time in my academic career. I'm feeling slightly defeated that I couldn't hack it, but early this morning, as I waited for the enlarger in the typography room, I had a revelation. I was taking 4 upper-division psych classes with one of the most demanding art classes offered at TU in addition to working 13 hours a week and editing the campus newspaper. What was I doing to myself?

I like to do my very best in my all classes and in my work, but how can give my best if I'm spread too thin? Yesterday, I spent about three hours on this honkin' paper for Ethics in Psychology. Those hours will forever be lost, but maybe I can save future hours with a simple drop/add form. Yes, I'm dropping Ethics and taking on Digital Tools. I'll still have a 17 hour course load, but the work I'll be doing in Digital Tools will be useful to me immediately with The Echo, whereas I'll probably never use the APA Code of Conduct. Ethics could have been interesting, but compared to my other classes, it held the least value to me (especially since I've already taken ethics courses at Taylor).

So here goes.

Ski Hi Drive-In and the Taylor Tradition

Last night, after slight coersion from Margaret, I blew off my homework to go to the Drive-In with her, Jenny and Janell. See, it's a tradition each Labor Day Weekend for TU students to go to the Drive In. People bring dorm furniture and huge speakers and we all sit out on the lawn. Although I'd seen the movies we watched already (The Village and Collateral), I enjoyed cuddling up in blankets and pillows with three of my favorite Taylor people.

Some of the other Taylor people present were a completely different matter. I've become more and more disenchanted with the ideal of the Taylor man. Somehow I got this idea freshman year that TU guys are gentlemen (I guess because a large percentage of them hold doors open for women). I'd been deluding myself. Chivalry really is dead.

In spite of being annoyed by everyone else from Taylor who attended the drive-in, I had an amazing time. Since I'd seen both movies, I got a chance to sit back and look at the stars for a while. I know I've said it before, but I love the sky here. Even when it's cloudy, it's still beautiful. I'd forgotten just how special it can be to enjoy a movie outside (the somewhat thick woods behind the screen also had an interesting effect on The Village).

Frisbee golf

I'm sitting in my office as a group of roughly nine Sammy II boys pound the outside wall with frisbees. Wes told me to watch out for this. Apparently, the wall outside my plush, editor's office is a frisbee golf "hole." Ok, they've stopped now.

Who needs sleep?

I am so awake right now. I had only two hours of sleep last night, but it hasn't phased me. I stayed awake in BOTH of my classes this morning! I even participated. Also, I had no coffee until lunch because Vecino's wasn't open (the fascists), but I guess I did have a cherry Pepsi in Physiological, so I wasn't caffeine-less. Still, two hours!

The incredible thing is I usually don't function without at least five solid hours of sleep, yet these last two weeks I've been perfectly fine on two. I honestly believe it's God sustaining me and I'm beyond floored at his providence.

In Matthew 11, Jesus says, "Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." I claim this promise. I'm beginning to see just how strong God is in my weakness. Even though I toil away toward some abstract goal, I will only reach my true potential if I trust him to support me.

#200859

I just got back from The Echo. We're gonna have to go over some stuff with the staff, but it was a pretty good effort by all involved.

Parking is pathetic at Taylor. Not because there isn't any. People are just STUPID. There was this honkin truck actually pulled through two spaces in the Wengatz lot. I had to park all the way in Olson and walk to English and get jumped and raped because of that stupid truck. Nah, I really didn't get raped, but it can be pretty scary walking by those big trees so early in the morning.

The truck had an Illinois license plate #200859. I think it was black, but everything looks black at this hour. If you see it around campus, throw rocks at it. I mean, seriously. How rude.

Oops.

So here's the deal. Someone stuck my refrigerator on the top shelf in the storage room so I can't get it down by myself (I tried last night), but I need to get it out by Friday so Hall Council won't take it and ransom it. Problem: I don't have any time to get it out.

Actually, I had twenty minutes today, but when I went down with Amy and Katherine, the key broke off in the door (hmmm... reminds me of Anna our freshman year), so now no one can get to our stuff. Muahahaha!

I guess I don't care about it because I'm not using my refrigerator, but I also paid a good $40 and I don't want to have to pay again to get it back. It's a funny situation, tho. I must admit.

Like a drill bit to the head

A few years ago, building contractor Donald Wright, 54, of Toronto fell from a step ladder, skewering his brain with a 3-inch drill bit. After he regained consciousness, Wright calmly walked to the bathroom where he saw the drill buried to the hilt in his right lobe. He plugged the drill into the socket, said goodbye to his reflection and put the drill in reverse. Incredibly, he survived without any major health issues. His story has become psychology folklore.

Today I heard this story for the second time. It still amazes me to think how lucky this guy was. But was it luck? Lots of people die from brain injuries, yet lots of people survive. Crowbars, bullets, nails... When I think about the things people stick in their brains, I'm find myself in awe of God's creation. How resilient. How miraculous.

Dr. Mark Cosgrove, perhaps Taylor's most respected professor, knows plenty about the brain and its ability to bounce back. He's been studying the brain and its intricacies for as long as I've been alive. My freshman year, he suffered a brain aneurysm. Most people straight up die from those and the ones who survive have immediate surgery. Cosgrove had to wait two weeks before he found himself in an Indianapolis OR.

His eventual surgeon, one of the top neurosurgeons in the country, said Cosgrove should have died three times during those two weeks. Yet here he is, standing in the Student Union meeting room, teaching my Physiological Psychology class. What a blessing! What a testament to the power of prayer and to the wonder of God's creation!

I remember when Dr. Cosgrove got sick freshman year. The whole Taylor community lifted the beloved professor up in prayer. Meanwhile, Dr. Cosgrove said he barely thought beyond simple constructions, as John Eldredge puts it, "alert and oriented times zero."

I'm excited about this year and what I'm going to learn from my professors, my friends and mostly from God. It's definitely going to be a challenge, but it'll also be a blast. I'll be sticking a lot in my brain this year. Hopefully nothing sharp, though. :)

Scratch me, I'm Irish

Once upon a time, I itched a lot. I don't know why. It's not like I had a skin disease or anything, I just felt itchy.

That was freshman year. The hilarious Anna Drehmer was my roommate at the time. She never failed to make me laugh and I suppose she never forgot my itchiness.

Last night, I saw her in the hall on third floor (she moved to 3CE this year) on my way to meet a friend to go to Walmart. She ran in her room and returned a moment later, bearing this gift:



It's the Irish Back Scratcher. It's the second back scratcher I've received from Anna (maybe not the last) and I LOVE it. She did her practicum in Ireland this summer and said she couldn't resist buying me the scratcher. It says, "Scratch me I'm Irish" on the side. HAHAHAHA! I LOVE Anna.

Lightning safety

The other night we had this HUGE lightning storm. While the weather carried on outside, I sat hunched over my computer going through ResNet's 12-step registration process. Probably one of the stupidest things I've done, but I wanted to get my computer hooked up to the network. I'm batting 0-2 on lightning safety.

While I risked electrocution, Matt sat in Gerig lounge and took this. I know, it's freakin' amazing.

This is the 100th post I've added to this blog. Nice.

What's in a name?

Perhaps my favorite part of Taylor's campus, the Jumping Bean, changed its name to Vecinos over the summer. Even though I wasn't crazy about the name "Jumping Bean," I felt this sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach when I read the flier announcing the change.

Why should I care? They're still serving Alliance World Coffees and they're run by the same people. They just have a more hip look and name.

Maybe I don't like it because the Vecinos brand doesn't belong to Taylor. Vecinos is a coffee house in Indianapolis which houses an extension of my church, Muncie Alliance. It's weird to have the same place here. It's like a franchise.

I like the name Vecinos, though. It means "neighbor" in Spanish which is a million times cooler than The Jumping Bean. I guess I can dig it, as long as my card still works. It's completely stamped up, which means I can get whatever drink I want for free. If it doesn't work out, you can count on a very angry post in the near future.

Why don't you cry about it?

It's funny to watch freshman parents walking around campus with downcast looks on their faces. Some of them look like they'll break down in tears any moment. Maybe it's horrible of me, but I wish they'd leave.

Running on two hours

What a day!

It's been good, tho slightly incoherent. After a late night of software troubles and an unexpected trip to Marion at 3 this morning, The Echo made its 2004-05 debut. Anders and I sold quite a few subscriptions to empty-nest afflicted parents. Therefore we made a good bit of progress in our advertising budget for the year. Woo hoo!

I finally got my comp up and running in my room. ResNet has this truly heinous registration process to get on the network now, so after a good three hours in front of the comp, I think I'm set.

I met my roommate today. She's absolutely terrific, although I don't know her very well yet. It's kinda hard to get to know someone when her parents and two siblings are standing in the room. So far, it seems like it's actually the most compatible match I've had at Taylor. What was I so worried about???

I've been decorating the room a little, too, through my sleep-deprived stupor. I found an excerpt from St. Augustine that I absolutely love. It doesn't really relate to anything I wrote in this post, but I like it, so I'm putting it in.

"Praise of the Dance"
by Saint Augustine

I praise the dance, for it frees people from the heaviness of matter and
binds the isolated to community.

I praise the dance, which demands everything: health and a clear spirit and
a buoyant soul.

Dance is a transformation of space, of time, of people, who are in constant
danger of becoming all brain, will, or feeling.

Dancing demands a whole person, one who is firmly anchored in the center of
his life, who is not obsessed by lust for people and things and the demon of
isolation in his own ego.

Dancing demands a freed person, one who vibrates with the equipoise of all
his powers.

I praise the dance.

O man, learn to dance, or else the angels in heaven will not know what to
do with you.

The Sojourner takes a break

Looks like I'm finally settling down. I'm back up at Taylor, so for the moment my sojourn has come to an end. I mean, I'll be staying in one place for the next four months. That'll take some getting used to.

This summer was probably the best one of my life. I took advantage of once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, followed God's call to Asia and forged new and exciting relationships. What more could I want from a three-month hiatus?

But now I'm here on a college campus in an obscure town in the middle of Indiana. I honestly don't want to be anywhere else.

I love to travel. This summer on the run was just what I needed to satiate my craving, but I'm ready to slow down for a while and enjoy the serenity Taylor University offers.

Of course, by slowing down I mean decelerating from Mach 4 to Mach 1. I have a busy semester ahead of me complete with hard classes, a prestigious position and work-study. I'm under no illusions that it'll be easy, but there will be plenty to enjoy.

-$.99 breadsticks on Tuesday nights
-A fully punched coffee card from The Bean
-Girly movies at 1 a.m. (my P.A. owns The Babysitters Club. I know, gag me with a toothpick... but you know I'll still watch)
-Book Lovers Society
-MUNCIE ALLIANCE CHURCH
-Wal-mart/Handy Andy runs
-Midnight birthday celebrations complete with the Third South birthday song
-Echo nights
-Crochet parties... every night

And that's just scratching the surface. Now I'm even more excited. Let's get this party started!

Consider me Bi-Coastal

In the past few days, I've seen two movies set on opposite U.S. coasts. Here's my take on them.

I saw Collateral on Friday night. I'd recommend it to anyone over age 13 who has a pulse. The acting is phenomenal and the camera work inventive. Jamie Foxx totally stole the show as Max, the unfortunate cab driver. You'll want the big screen for this one, so get out there while it's still in theaters. 8/10

Yesterday, I saw Garden State. It was also excellent, although I can't recommend it to everyone. There's a lot of bad language (Isn't it funny how movies are the only place you see EVERYONE use the f-word to punctuate each statement? In the real world, this unattractive habit confines itself to a small demographic) and explicit drug use which both serve to distract from the movie more than add to it. Besides these details, Zach Braff's writing is incredible, definitely not what I'd expect from a freshman filmmaker.

The film is not without its flaws. For example, when Braff's character, Large, takes himself off the extensive list of meds he's been on since he was 10-years-old, he does so without any ill effects. I know from experience that it's not so easy to extricate one's self from the control of medication, yet Large doesn't seem to encounter any withdrawal symptoms. Yeah, that's believable.

However, the movie's amazing soundtrack moves it past some slight factual discrepancies. It's a sweet little movie, although a little sappy at the end. Braff's talent is undeniable, but the movie didn't move me in the way I thought it should have. I'll give it a 6/10.

MAC attack!!!

Upland and back in less than 36 hours. It's gotta be a personal record for me.

One of the best parts of being up there (besides the sky... it's so BIG) had to be Sunday at Muncie Alliance Church. God's presence is undeniably tangible when I step inside that simple church. It's beyond my comprehension... and I like it that way.

I love how I can sit in the sanctuary and feel I've learned something fresh and true every Sunday. Yesterday, Pastor Guy taught from Joshua about Points of Passage. Suddenly, I found myself in the middle of a God-lesson-blitz. Guy hit upon everything I've been learning and wrestling with these past few weeks.

He reinforced what I've been reading in John Eldredge's Waking the Dead (highly recommended read) about the Holy Spirit's power of transformation. All this time since I became a Christian, I've been trying to live up to God's standards on my own. I keep failing and I keep asking why. I figured it's just human nature and that God doesn't care. I just need to be the best person I can be. God will forgive me anyway. A good friend alerted me to the falsity of such a statement. Yesterday, Guy said God really doesn't want to see what I can do apart from Him. He wants to be in on it with me.

"The biggest enemy of the Spirit-filled life is self-sufficiency," Guy said. Here I am, railing against God because I don't know how I'm going to ______. I need to trust Him, to live by faith. Only then will God be able to take me into the places He has for me.

I seriously cannot wait to get back up to campus. I'm looking forward to the ways God is going to work in my life during the next semester. There are certain things here in Evansville that I don't want to let go of, but I know being away will be the best for the situation. God has a plan for me, and for the first time, I'm honestly EXCITED about it.

Denied.

Each year US News & World Report ranks the top colleges in the country. Taylor has finished out at #2 in the Midwest for the past few years. Not this year. Out of the North, a dark horse rode up to overthrow our proud university. Calvin College is #2. TU must be satisfied with the bronze.

One for the road

Saw Collateral last night. It's EXCELLENT, so get out there and see it if you haven't already.

More on the show later. I need to head out ASAP for TU. My mom and I are setting up my office (whohoo!) and making press kits for advertising. We're spending the night at Donna's and then going to MAC for church. My mom hasn't been to MAC, so I'm way excited.

Anyway, no time. Pray for nice traffic conditions and go see Collateral.

Who can be against me?

I spent most of last night locked in combat with God. I have a hard time trusting him and letting him love me. I felt utterly humbled around 2 a.m. when I unclenched my fists and surrendered into his embrace.

Today, I felt on top of the world (if a little tired) until an e-mail glitch caused a long letter to an old friend to be forever lost in cyber-space. Suddenly, I lost it, forgetting all I'd learned and relapsing into self-hatred and rage. Somehow, this old-school Supertones tune soothed my soul and brought me back to reality.

It seems like everytime I try, I always fail,
I'll never be like Christ, I know I'll struggle,
Until the day, the very day I die.
And how I need someone to make me feel assured.
I don't need anyone if you're on my side, Lord.

Closing time

I need a new way to close my letters. For the past year or so, I've been signing my name after "Peace be with you." I liked it, because it reminded me of how Paul signed in on the Pauline Epistles (which I still think is totally cool). However, he doesn't really say "Peace be with you." He says, "Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." A little long-winded for my purposes.

Also, it wasn't until this summer that I realized "Peace be with you" is a common refrain in more orthodox churches. I hadn't realized this until now because I'd never been to those churches until I wrote my story on the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. Now the phrase kinda creeps me out.

I fear my closing has become trite, and that worries me. I aim to be sincere in my messages and hope that's the way I appear. So much can be expressed in a simple closing word. In my quest for the perfect word or phrase, I hope to finally accomplish the task of appearing sincere. Any suggestions are most welcome.

I remind myself of Bradley Chalkers in one of my favorite books, There's a Boy in the Girls' Bathroom. In a final letter to his counselor, Carla, he agonizes over how to sign off. First he writes "Love," and crosses it out. Then he writes the more politically correct, "Yours Truly," and crosses it out. He finally sticks with:

"Love,
Bradley"

I heart the Olympics

Last night, Paul Hamm took Olympic gold in men's all-around gymnastics. His win made an impact on me, not because he added to the USA medal count, but because he didn't give up when it seemed all hope was lost.

He'd been doing well until the fourth rotation when he crashed off the mat into the judges’ table on a bad vault. He posted a score of 9.137, dropping him from first to 12th place with only two rotations left in the competition. It seemed impossible for him to medal, much less get gold.

Hamm could've given up right then. Dejected and bruised, no one would've blamed him for quitting. Instead, he went on to make Olympic history, nailing his last two events with twin 9.837s. He seized the gold from Korean Kim Dae-eun by .012 points.

That's what I love about the Olympics. They allow human beings to become exceed the "sum of their parts" by magnifying such traits as courage, perseverance and determination. The Games inspire me to be a better person. How many times have I wiped out and immediately given up.

Hamm's performance reminded me of Keri Strug's vault in 1996, and not just because Hamm and Strug both have munchkin voices (my brother said Hamm could compellingly represent the Lollipop Guild). Both performances loom iconic in my mind. That's what the Olympics are all about, at least to me.

I hope next time I'm in a jam, I mirror Hamm's attitude from last night.

"I dug down deep and fought for everything," Hamm told the AP. "It was the best performance of my life."

"It was like World War II, only worse."

As I perused the SIJ 2004 class website today, I felt this overwhelming sense of belonging. It's been almost two months since I threw my suitcases into the back of a cab, closing the doors to Dellenback Center for the last time. I was bitter at the time, angry that I'd gotten a B+ and that no one else was awake with me at 5 a.m. While I struggled alone to get that oversized suitcase, my carry-on and my laptop out the self-locking doors (I'd already turned in my key), I wasn't thinking about the amazing transformations I'd undergone over the past month. I wasn't thinking about my roommate who'd stayed up talking with me about love and life until 4 a.m. that day. I wasn't thinking about the city and the spell it had cast over me in a matter of weeks. I wasn't thinking about the chance of a lifetime I'd just had, and how I'd emerged triumphant.

Today, I thought about all of those things, the moments I'll never get back. While I'm ashamed of the blemish on my transcript and I'll probably never forgive TMatt for being a jerk, I was beyond blessed to have an entire month with 14 amazing journalism students who all care about the same things I do. How can I be bitter about such an experience?

In the next few weeks, we'll all be starting school and bartering our souls for campus-newspaper-staff-greatness. Though we've gone our separate ways, I feel eternally bound to each one of them. For four weeks in Washington, D.C., I was a part of something amazing. I think I'm still a part of it. I still belong.

THE WORLD MUST BE PEOPLED!

I love that line, uttered by Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing. In the last few months, Much Ado has become my favorite Shakespearean play, beating out The Tempest and even A Midsummer Night's Dream. I saw the play in the park while I was in Washington, DC, and tonight my mom and I watched the movie version. I hadn't seen it before, so it was way fun. I thought about John Murphey during the opening bath scene because he said he had to watch it, like, 10 times in Sova's class. Apparently, it's a really famous scene for film students. Why is that? I wonder what the Murph is up to right now.

I watched USA take on Croatia in Olympic water polo tonight (even though I'd been led to believe it started at 11 when was really at 11:35). I really like the way their caps tie under their chins like little bonnet bows. Cute.

The game got super intense at the end. The last 30 seconds, Croatia tied up the game 6-6. In the final second, USA scored the winning point. My heart was in my throat! I really want the US to win the gold in water polo. It's been exactly 100 years since it's happened. I think winning would make a nice 100th anniversary present.

Love means never having to say you're sorry?

I must admit I haven't seen the movie Love Story in its entirety, but I caught glimpses of the 1970 film last semester as I tried to distract myself from an Aesthetics paper. Some girls on my wing were obsessed with the show, not because they're hopeless romantics, but because the movie is so bad it's funny.

From what I can see, the movie's mostly harmless, although its most famous line tends to irk me. "Love means never having to say you're sorry." The claim couldn't be more off base.

I've realized lately that love is a series of apologies. I make mistakes everyday, especially when it comes to the ones I love. I smart off to my mom. I roll my eyes at my brother. I say things to a friend without thinking them through. Eventually I come to my senses and apology is the only way I can get back home.

Even God's love is based on forgiveness initiated by apology. We show God we love him when we say we're sorry... and mean it.

Perhaps I'm taking Jenny (the girl in the movie) out of context. Maybe she meant her husband didn't have to say he was sorry because she already knew it. I doubt that, though. Being in love never gave me ESP.

As long as I'm here on earth, I'm going to have to trust verbal communication. It's not always accurate, but it's more realistic than that mind-meld crap. I've hurt enough people by abstaining from apology. When I wrong my loved ones, I have every intention of telling them I'm sorry.

Rice, noodles and General's Chicken

Today I had my first Chinese meal since China. Well, it was at Gracie's, so I'm not sure if it counts, but it was delicious and I ate it with chopsticks. The first plate was fabulous, but I had to stop pretty soon into my second plate when I started getting full. Also, when I got up to get some more General's Chicken, an odd Chinese waiter approached me and started talking about the back of my shirt (It was from CATS the musical). Slightly weirded out, I promptly returned to the table.

I ate with my three INSANE cousins and my grandparents. We kept the kids (Sam and Michaela are 5, Sarah is 8) for the rest of the afternoon. Sam bonked his nose, scraped is knee and threw up in the driveway. By 5 p.m., I was definitely ready for them to go to their other grandparents' house.

I also saw Ben and Lauren at Gracie's. They went to North this morning to see old teachers. Sounds sick to me, but whatever. Anyway, they saw Doss and said he's doing much better which is fabulous. His health deteriorated my senior year at North and I heard he took a year off after I graduated. Although I learned nothing in his class, I really enjoyed him as a person.

My fortune cookie said something about me getting a promotion at my firm. Since I don't belong to a firm, I'm not sure how I'd get a promotion. I couldn't even logically affix "in bed" to the end of it. Crappy fortune.