Confessions of a surrogate editor

Last night I published my 48th issue of the Echo (not counting this year's freshman edition). The experience was indeed surreal and I'm not sure how I feel about it, so I'm going to try to sort that out on here.

This year's Echo leadership had left town this week for the CMA's. I suppose I was the natural choice to fill in and Donna offered me hourly pay. I decided one more night in the Echo office wouldn't kill me (it might make me stronger) and I needed the money in case I have to pay that ridiculous parking ticket, so I went ahead and took the offer.

As this week commenced, the slew of articles to edit and crises to avert reminded me why I quit in the first place. Making a paper takes time, time I'd rather spend making a new friend over pool or sharing deep dreams with an old one over coffee. Instead of frolicking around Ball State on a Thursday night and venting at Starbucks with my friend Laura, I was cooped up in an office surrounded by layout and copy. Funny how that was once my idea of a pleasant evening. My, times have changed.

Let's be honest, the Echo didn't always feel like work. The whole Echo night experience has changed. I no longer feel the strong sense of family that originally compelled me. Everyone from my inaugural staff has graduated... it's just not the same without them. A few current staff members remain dear to me, but the cohesive unit that was once the Echo is no more.

That said, last night was surprisingly benign. Anders called to encourage me at the beginning of the night. Several friends stopped by/IMed for moral support. All of the staff members respected me, at least to my face. My Irish cream latte was reduced 50 cents for an event in the Union. I had my frustrations, but no breakdowns. But the best moment of the night came when I drove into the English parking lot just before 3 a.m. and found a space adjacent to the north door. Pure elation. Life is beautiful.

No, I don't fancy sacrificing another Thursday night on the alter of student journalism. I have my memories and at least I know that if I ever need them, I still have the skills to slap a newspaper together. But my priorities lie beyond colored pens and layout software. The Echo does not afford me the one thing I desire in life right now: meaningful connection with other human beings. As long as work hinders my ability to relate (and boy did it ever), I feel I must abstain. Sure, loving people is a lot harder than trying to make a block of copy fit into the allotted space on a layout, but it's a million times more rewarding in the end.

Never meant to be so cold

I'm pretty sure I'd freeze to death if it weren't for my brother. I love that man. :)

Like a regular tourist

Fall Break was, well, excellent. No, I didn’t get to meet Wayne or Garth, but I did have an amazing time with some of my favorite people. Here are some “stories and bleary-eyed photos”:

Sarah, Alison and I started out after classes/work on Thursday. We made a pit stop in West Laf to see my brother and get the warm clothes he’d brought back for me after his fall break. It was good seeing him for three minutes and it’s always fun to navigate the ‘Due!

The rest of the ride to Chicagoland was uneventful, except for a stop in a Starbucks with some crazy ladies who commented on all our orders and got our drinks wrong. We arrived at Cat’s house in St. Charles (no, not Aurora… plans changed) and ate an amazing dinner made by her parents. After dinner we watched MST3K The Final Sacrifice. Rowsdower.

Friday we took the train into Downtown Chicago. Stepping off the Metra onto Madison Ave. was unforgettable. It had been over three years since my last sojourn to downtown and I’d completely forgotten how much I love the city. Allegedly, Oprah walked right past us on the sidewalk, but I was too off-in-my-own-world to notice the beautiful celebrities.

We spent the afternoon walking around the city and taking in Millennium Park. We also had dessert in the Walnut Room and relaxed in Borders. Here are some photos (note: all photos by Alison Gill, Janell Hanna, a lady in the park, or a man on the train… I hope that Finnish student is still REALLY enjoying my camera):



Here’s a lovely shot of Millennium Park with the city beyond.



“The Bean,” probably the coolest piece of modern art I’ve seen in a while. I love the way the city reflects in it, and I love this photo of Janell, me, Margaret and Cat admiring it.



Our reflection in “The Bean.” (L-R) Alison, Sarah, Cat, me, Margaret and Janell.



It was an absolutely BEAUTIFUL day to be in the city. Here’s a group shot of us in the park squinting in the sun. Alison, Janell, me, Cat, Sarah and Margaret.

The train ride back was especially fun as we got into a semi-heated discussion with some college kids about existentialism and other random topics. It was very refreshing to talk to people who don’t share my beliefs in the existence and nature of God. Here are some group photos of my friends and I in the train pre-discussion:





Saturday everyone split up. Cat hung out with the fam, Margaret went to a wedding, Alison and Sarah went to Wheaton, and Janell and I made a short pilgrimage to AURORA!!! Here I am outside the most excellent place on earth:



After eating Taco Bell, we went back into Geneva to find a Barnes & Noble. On the way we found an Irish pub called the Claddaugh and decided to check it out. Instead of rugby, they definitely had an MSU football game playing on the TV over the bar. There’s just something wrong with sipping a Guinness whilst watching American football. Not that I’d even bother with Guinness in the states anyway. Heck, I hardly bothered with it in Dublin! The pub was definitely mass-produced Irishness which was a little nauseating, but they had the best straight-up coffee I’ve ever put in my mouth.

That night, Janell, Alison, Sarah and I braved World Series traffic into the city for some authentic Venezuelan cuisine. The food was amazing and the atmosphere was unforgettable (Hispanic men getting emotional sitting along the wall watching Game 1 on TV).

Coming back to TU arouses many mixed feelings. I definitely don’t want to be working on projects and reading textbooks and taking quizzes, but it’s nice to be back in my own space. Fall Break was definitely necessary, but it’s over now. Back to reality.

Rusty HTML

I was planning to post glorious photos from Fall Break. I can't get my tags to work though. Maybe my seventh grade knowledge of HTML has finally failed me. Oh well. I'll try again later.

DynaMITE

Whoever discovered the unbeatable combination of chocolate and pretzels deserves the Nobel Peace Prize.

Also, Margaret and I have CURTAINS. We didn't have a rod, so we hung them with rope.

Telling (More) Secrets

I am a firm believer in the oft quoted phrase, “All truth is God’s Truth.” All of Creation reflects aspects of God, although sometimes one must look harder to find them. No where is this more true than in our own hearts, where our secrets lie. As Buechner says, “I not only have my secrets, I am my secrets. And you are your secrets. Our secrets are human secrets and our trusting each other enough to share them with each other has much to do with the secret of what it is to be human.” (39)

What happens to our hearts when these secrets remain hidden? We harden. We fester. We regress. Sharing our secrets is a risk for sure, but not taking that risk is where the real danger lies.

Telling Secrets by Frederick Buechner is one of those books that change one’s soul. It certainly touched mine. It’s a candid expression of humanity and spirituality that reaches deep into the human experience.

Buechner’s prose is insightful and colorful, drawing from raw, personal experience. Normally, wordiness bugs me, but his long sentences were compelling from conception to conclusion. His words evoke laughter in one part and heartbreak in another. It is an emotional journey into the heart of a man rocked by the storms of life.

I loved so many parts of this book, but one of my favorites took me back to the Emerald Isle where I wrestled with so many of my own secrets. Buechner told the tale of a sixth century Irish saint named Brendan the Navigator. He spent much of his life sailing the seas in search of paradise. Some say he made it as far as Florida. When it came to the end of his life, he wondered if he’s wasted his life on a wild-goose chase. Perhaps he should have stayed home and followed the tried-and-true path of monastic service. Buechner includes this scene from Brendan where the saint concludes an interview with Welsh historian-monk Gildas. Brendan’s friend Finn narrates the scene. As Gildas rises to leave the interview:

For the first time we saw he wanted one leg. It was gone from knee joint down. He was hopping sideways to reach for his stick in the corner when he lost his balance. He would have fallen in a heap if Brendan hadn’t leapt forward and caught him.

“I’m crippled as the dark world,” Gildas said.

“If it comes to that, which one of us isn’t, my dear?” Brendan said.

Gildas with but one leg. Brendan sure he’d misspent his whole life entirely. Me that had left my wife to follow him and buried our only boy. The truth of what Brendan had said stopped all our mouths. We was cripples all of us. For a moment or two there was no sound but the bees.

“To lend each other a hand when we’re falling,” Brendan said. “Perhaps that’s the only work that matters in the end.”

The power of that last statement brings tears to my eyes even now. We are all crippled in some way, but some of us know the Way to restoration. We must be willing to give of ourselves, to tell our stories, to give an account for the hope we have in the midst of the pain we endure.

Read Telling Secrets. Your soul will thank you.

Skip-A-Class

Last night was Skip-A-Meal. For those of you who aren't familiar with this bi-yearly TU tradition, once a semester students sign up to skip their meal and give the money designated for that meal from their meal plan to a particular charity. This semester, the money went to benefit Katrina relief.

But seriously, how much money can they get at maybe $7 a student? Sure it adds up, but just think of the possibilities if we moved this idea to a larger scale.

Solution: Skip-A-Class. I've heard the figure passed around that a 50-minute class session costs $60. What if once a semester, everyone skipped one of their classes and designated that money for a charity? I'm sure participation would be widespread (most people tend to be more willing to sacrifice class than food), and at $60 per person, we'd REALLY make a difference!

Here's to changing the world. I'm totally serious. Well... maybe not totally. :)

You give and take away...

“Grasp not at much for fear thou losest all.” – George Herbert

Last semester, I studied John Eldredge’s Journey of Desire. He includes a chapter on “Letting Go” that I found particularly hard to swallow. See, last semester, God stripped me of everything. I was utterly alone in a foreign country. As the days stretched out before me, I felt the tugging of desire in my heart. This is not the way things should be, my heart said. But I held onto my bitter feelings. I held onto my inadequacies. I held onto the future I’d painted for myself in my head. I came to the chapter with white knuckles from all my grasping and arranging. Somehow, I couldn’t let go.

God’s Creation has an odd way of softening my heart. Daily, I’d perch upon the rocks overlooking the Irish Sea and yell at God for letting my heart break, for taking away what I thought he wanted me to have. As His Truth penetrated my defenses, I slowly began to relinquish control. By the semester’s end, I truly had let go of it all… except for one thing.

I let that one thing go last night. It’s strange how letting go is in one breath liberating while in another devastating. I’m grieving as I hope in faith for restoration. Eldredge says,

“Grief is good. It is cleansing. It undoes my world—and that is the best part of it. I need to be undone; simply undone … We need to mourn; it is the only way our hearts can remain both free and alive in this world.” (188)

My accountability partner is an amazing woman who works here on campus. She invited me over a few weeks ago for cookies and conversation. As I was leaving she gave me a poster of a girl on a swing, but instead of the swing being tethered to a sturdy branch, it is supported by a divine Hand. The words “Will you trust me?” run along the bottom. The poster now hangs beside my desk as a constant reminder to let go and trust God.

"I walk the streets of Japan til' I get lost"

Last night was Wok Night in the DC. I hate the lines, but I always love the chance to try some “authentic” Asian cuisine from authentic Asians. I somehow trust them more than the regular DC cooks when it comes to international culinary accuracy. Anyway, last night was a little different than the typical Wok Night because all the food came from Japan. I was a little scared at first since the extent of my Japanese-food experience is the Hawaiian hybrid spam musubi and a night at the local Japanese Steak House for my brother’s birthday. I usually play it safe when it comes to eating, but last night I tried something new and I really liked it. If my brother ever moves to Japan, I’m definitely going to visit him for the company and for the food.

Strawbellies!

My hair smells like strawberries and creme. It's making me hungry.

O tidings of comfort and joy (comfort and joy)

Sometimes I feel like two people at once. No, that’s probably not right. I’m one person with very conflicting emotions. My heart is reeling in confusion and pain. I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know how to face it. And yet, there is hope. Again, I’m humbled and thankful for my friends.

Yesterday, Margaret and I went to Indy after church. We ate at Panera and studied for an hour or so before heading to the airport to pick up Alison. Alison’s flight was delayed in Pittsburg, so Margaret and I went to Starbucks and studied and drank coffee (actually, I had an amazing strawberries and crème frap. I was a little coffeed out after MAC and Panera). We made a new “friend” just before leaving to meet Alison in baggage claim. Even though I was tired and occasionally frustrated (especially when I missed an exit on my way to the airport), I had a relaxing and enjoyable afternoon with my roommate. It definitely would not have been the same without her.

On the way home, traffic stopped dead on I-69 for about twenty minutes. I’m still not sure why. When we finally got moving, there was nothing to indicate a crash but a bent guardrail. It was ok, though, because while we were stopped, Alison showed me pictures from her friend’s wedding. It was so good to have Alison back. She always leaves this distinct void when she isn’t around. The longer-than-usual ride back from Indy was quite pleasant with her there.

We made it back to the DC in time for dinner, which was surprisingly delicious. After we got back to the apartment, Margaret found out her sister is pregnant, so we went out to celebrate at Payne’s, but first we stopped by the Brick House. Jenny called with more good news and there was much rejoicing and happiness.

I’m doing a Beth Moore study of the Fruit of the Spirit, and yesterday I was learning about phileo (friend) love. One of the verses really struck me as I remembered all of my friends.

“Suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Does she not light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, 'Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.'” (Luke 15:8-9)

The word for “friends” in this passage is actually best translated “girlfriends.” It gives a Biblical model for how friends react to each others’ good news. We rejoice! I’m so thankful for my friends, that even in the midst of all this pain and confusion, I can be joyful with them.

Thriller, thriller night

"This was our last Airband," I said to Jenny as we left the chapel last night. Of course, it was also, in a way, my first Airband. See, my freshman we were in it, my sophomore year I took photos and last year I didn't go because I had to edit the Echo. I'd never camped out all day outside the chapel vying for a good place in line. I'd never stampeded into the building as the doors opened. I'd never actually enjoyed the show as an innocent bystander. And so, I must say I enjoyed my first real Airband experience.

Sitting in the audience was way fun, especially because Jenny was there all the way from Indy. Yeah, and she has to teach today. She's CRAZY... and I love it. I'm also glad that I got to be with many of my other good friends, but we all missed Alison and Heather and Melissa. :(

Gerig won, and they deserved it, but the judges obviously had a Disney bias. Disney acts took all the top honors. English really should have placed, in my humble but accurate opinion, because their act blew my mind. The other act I thought was pretty amazing was Sammy II and Fourth Berg. I'm always down for a little break dancing.

So now I really want to dance. Fortunately, my dance class that is usually on Wednesday was moved to Saturday this week, so I will get to dance tomorrow.

Today could potentially be good because I don't have any plans. I'm sick of making plans. We turn in the video project from HELL today. How could a 30-second commercial cause so much heartache? Well, it's out of our hands, or at least it will be in two hours. GOOD RIDDANCE.

"It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right. I hope you had the time of your life." --Green Day

Pay for your prints

I think the heat-wave ends today. So sad. I’m liking the Indian Summer, mostly because all of my warm clothes are still at home and I’m not planning to return home until Thanksgiving. So when it starts getting cold again, don’t mind me and my ONE warm outfit. I do like my 3SE sweatpants, but not that much.

Also, there are lots of bees here. What’s up with that? I don’t remember any bees the last three years I’ve been at Taylor. Now they’re EVERYWHERE. I think there was an MST3K episode about that.

Some of my friends and I are observing the month of Ramadan through prayer (and maybe an eventual fast). I don’t know much about this season or about Muslims in general, so I’m looking forward to the opportunity to learn more.

This week is pretty amazing. MWF both my 1 p.m. and 2 p.m. classes have been cancelled, so I get six extra hours in my week. To compensate for this streak of good luck, my digital video project is due on Friday instead of Monday. So I now live in an editing suite. Drat.

“You see a woman wants her cowboy like he wants his rodeo.” –Garth Brooks