“Writing is easy: All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.”~Gene Fowler
“If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.”
~Lord Byron
“Writing is the hardest way of earning a living, with the possible exception of wrestling alligators.”
~Olin Miller
Writing is an exceedingly temperamental hobby to pursue.
You, reader, as a literate human {I am making some assumptions here, you are human?} have some experience with the fickle muse that is writing. I'm sure that you've had a paper or two to write, or you just felt like expressing thoughts via pen and paper {or keyboard and screen}.
It's possible that you're one of the gifted few, who never realizes how dreadful writing can be.
[If so, why are you reading this? I can offer little.]
Or maybe, you're like me. You've realized more fully the fickleness that is subjective art.
A lesson I've learned:
Good writing, like good music, cannot be forced.
I know this well from experience.
I took years of classical piano at a young age.
I am no master pianist, even after the hours I labored, and *cough* the practicing I tried to evade.
Elation fills me when I realize that there is NO MORE PRACTICING PIANO.
You'd think eventually, there would be some sort of after-school-special lesson, some comforting moral to impart concerning practicing the piano.
Nope. Not for this girl.
No regrets. I got what I needed and split.
From an early age, I adored the guitar; it's what drove me to practice piano.
My parents wanted me to be musically literate in piano before I pursued other instruments. It was smart of them, but honestly, piano just isn't my thing. However, I can play Fur Elise, so I am content.
I have a few brief moments of wishing I could play like a great composer, but those moments are fleeting.
I am still sick of that black-and-white-keyed instrument, though I can say that I have experienced that entrancing elusive musical muse from time to time.
It has not come from playing the piano. The muse comes with guitar and song.
When it comes, it's a beautiful feeling. (I won't judge the actual quality of my musical skills, because, in all honesty, I don't like the sound of my own voice. But I like the evoked feelings)
Back to writing. In writing, there will be rare days when the words just flow effortlessly.
An idea bubbles up.
Hazy ideas become sharp in my mind. They refuse repression. If I
write those relentless words down, they can happily escape into the written world and trouble my mind no
more.
It feels as if these ideas are aching to be written and I am merely typing as fast as my fingers will allow.
I love those moments.
During those times, paper-writing is a breeze, and I sometimes even write a blog post or other nonsense. (though it may well not be "posted")
But then there are the other days.
Those other days, when writing anything, even:
"Today was Monday. It rained. It is gray outside and I am cold. I want coffee."
feels like a huge chore, something I can hardly bring myself to. The words are bland, the sentence structure awkward.
In such cases, when I force myself to write, it's an utter mess.
I wish I knew the secret of triggering that effortless ability.
Perhaps the key is just more writing?
With instruments, the key is practice. But you also must love what you do. Something about writing, I love, so therefore I will practice.
Maybe I will begin blogging more often, to exercise the creative writing section of my brain
(because we all know college papers do NOT inspire creativity. They inspire regurgitation and saying what professors want to read. )
It is put well this way:
“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”
~E. L. Doctorow
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Thursday, October 25, 2012
running. late. [part 2]
[for part one, see here.]
..."You are here for the experiment?", he asked.
I began, "Yes, you see I'm sorry I'm a few minutes late, but --"
He cut me off, looking past me. "Follow that man", he instructed.
Not realizing there was another person in the room, I first followed his gaze...
The man before me was nothing like I was expecting.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The man wheeled close. He sat in a motorized scooter, staring at me behind thick glasses.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
I looked at the man as he departed the dark corner and approached the lighted section of the room.
I smiled and said hello. He continued to stare coldly.
As I took in more details, I saw he had short dark hair, slightly pocked face, and was moderately overweight. He wore a purple sweater and tattered khaki's. On his feet were battered, once-white New Balance shoes. Under his sweater was a holey gray T-shirt.
Thinking back, I have no idea how I remember these details, but they stick out sharply in my memory.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
He spoke and his voice was distinctive.
It was of a higher pitch than I expected, nasal, and his words came out as if his tongue was too large for his mouth. His volume was outright jarring.
The words that came out were slurred, and though I knew the general meaning of most what he said, I had to think hard.
I was becoming lost in thought and he repeated his words. I was to follow him, and he wheeled out of the room, into an adjacent room.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The adjacent room was small, just large enough to accommodate two computer desks. An older man sat at one of the desks. He stood. He looked the picture of a professor, salt and pepper hair, glasses, mild-mannered. He introduced himself, Dr. ____. The professor told me that he would merely be observing the experiment, so I should just act as if he was not there.
After the professor introduced himself, I realized that the wheelchaired man never told me his name.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The wheelchaired man spoke again. I still could not fully understand the meaning of his words, though I believe they were English.
He was telling me to sit at the empty computer desk.
Eager to be finished with the experiment, I sat.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
"NOW, YOU WILL NOTICE THE SIGN." It was going to take me a while to get used to that voice. Why didn't the professor say something to this guy? Like the fact that he was practically yelling indoors? I looked for a sign. He noticed I was scanning and pointed, "THERE, ON THE WALL." I saw a paper had been taped to the wall with an odd phrase. "READ THE PHRASE ALOUD AND WORK ON THE COMPUTER."
I read the words on the sign aloud and clicked to start the computer program. The hum of the machines in the room were soothing.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The computer instructions told me to memorize a string of letters and numbers silently. I clicked to continue.
"NO."
Jolted, I looked over at the wheelchaired man.
"NO. REPEAT THE PHRASE REPEATEDLY. THEN DO THE PROBLEMS. WHILE YOU REPEAT. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" He spoke condescendingly as if I should have known.
"Oh. Okay, sorry. I didn't realize..."
"NO. NO OTHER WORDS. SAY NOTHING BUT THE PHRASE."
Long Blood Oozes Down.
This was beginning to strike me as weird. I glanced at the professor in the corner. He was taking notes and looking down. I could just leave. But this experiment was required for me to pass psychology. If I could get it over with, I wouldn't have to worry about participating in any other studies. If this was a taste of the experiments... who knows what the others would be like??
I stared at the screen.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
I took a breath.
I repeated the phrase.
I memorized letters.
I solved basic math problems.
I worked puzzles.
All the while repeating the phrase. The wheelchaired man just sat and stared at me. He was uncomfortably close, but I did my best to ignore it.
The phrase became a long string of nonsense sounds to me.
An hour passed.
I was almost lulled into a daze saying this phrase that had initially disturbed me, but was now simply a chant of nonsensical noises I was making with my vocal chords.
"NO, NO."
The man's loud nasal tones pulled me out of my chanting.
I looked over at him.
"NO. YOU MUST SAY THE WORDS CLEARLY."
While I am typing this in clear English, I had no idea what he was trying to say at first.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
"Could you elaborate, please?"
He gave me an example of what he meant. He said the phrase, though I couldn't tell it was English. I repeated it to him verbatim, exactly how he said it.
"NO, THAT ISN'T IT"
I said the phrase using good enucication.
"YES. THAT IS BETTER", a nod.
I repeated the phrase.
After another half hour had passed.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
He handed me a piece of paper.
"READ THE SCREEN."
The screen told me I would answer trivia questions, but also I needed to remind my experimenter to call someone in 20 minutes, and to ask for a red pen on question 60. If I had any further questions, I was to ask my experimenter.
I had a question.
"WHAT?", he asked as if I shouldn't have questions.
"Can I write on this paper you gave me? Is that allowed?"
He nodded.
"Great!" I made a note of the instructions I was given on the front sheet.
He looked at me with a shocked expression.
"NO. NO. NO! YOU CAN NOT DO THAT."
"Why not? You said I could write on this paper, right?"
I could tell he was not happy.
"UMM." He paused, unsure how to continue. "You weren't supposed to do that." he said it quietly, as if I was in trouble.
"What do you want me to do? Do you have another paper?"
He pondered this, then shrugged it off.
"PROCEED WITH THE TESTING. AND SAY THE PHRASE."
I took a breath and started clicking. "REPEATEDLY," he added, as if I had forgotten his first outburst.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
I proceeded with the test. The only alteration I had made to my test paper was to add a star to question 60, though he had acted like it was the end of the world. I remembered the 20-minute-phone-call. When I told him, he nodded.
Um.
I wanted to tell him to go make his phone call. I wasn't sure if it was a test to see how persistent I was. The computer told me the experimenter was supposed to actually make a phone call. My guy was just sitting there, motionless, staring at the side of my head, breathing heavily. If he made a phone call, maybe he'd stop staring at me.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
I have decided that I don't like being stared at like that: coldly, unblinkingly.
The phrase again became a singsong mantra, though I said the words clearly.
I finished the questions.
"Anything else?", I asked.
"No. BUT," he leaned in, "I TELL YOU THIS: YOU MUST NOT SPEAK OF THIS TO ANYONE. TELL NO ONE WHAT YOU SAW TODAY. PROMISE OK?"
Long Blood Oozes Down.
I just stared blankly and stood. Freedom at last?
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The professor stood and shook my hand saying, "Thank you so much for your time. Have a pleasant day."
I felt strange.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
Two hours had passed in total in that closet-type room.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
Two hours repeating a mindless creepy phrase.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
Two hours of my sanity sucked away.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The rest of my day felt surreal, and not entirely pleasant.
I followed up my experiment time by clearing my head on a run.
I am still unsure what they were really testing: my ability to handle myself in a surreal setting? My ability to memorize useless facts?
I'll probably never know.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
..."You are here for the experiment?", he asked.
I began, "Yes, you see I'm sorry I'm a few minutes late, but --"
He cut me off, looking past me. "Follow that man", he instructed.
Not realizing there was another person in the room, I first followed his gaze...
The man before me was nothing like I was expecting.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The man wheeled close. He sat in a motorized scooter, staring at me behind thick glasses.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
I looked at the man as he departed the dark corner and approached the lighted section of the room.
I smiled and said hello. He continued to stare coldly.
As I took in more details, I saw he had short dark hair, slightly pocked face, and was moderately overweight. He wore a purple sweater and tattered khaki's. On his feet were battered, once-white New Balance shoes. Under his sweater was a holey gray T-shirt.
Thinking back, I have no idea how I remember these details, but they stick out sharply in my memory.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
He spoke and his voice was distinctive.
It was of a higher pitch than I expected, nasal, and his words came out as if his tongue was too large for his mouth. His volume was outright jarring.
The words that came out were slurred, and though I knew the general meaning of most what he said, I had to think hard.
I was becoming lost in thought and he repeated his words. I was to follow him, and he wheeled out of the room, into an adjacent room.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The adjacent room was small, just large enough to accommodate two computer desks. An older man sat at one of the desks. He stood. He looked the picture of a professor, salt and pepper hair, glasses, mild-mannered. He introduced himself, Dr. ____. The professor told me that he would merely be observing the experiment, so I should just act as if he was not there.
After the professor introduced himself, I realized that the wheelchaired man never told me his name.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The wheelchaired man spoke again. I still could not fully understand the meaning of his words, though I believe they were English.
He was telling me to sit at the empty computer desk.
Eager to be finished with the experiment, I sat.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
"NOW, YOU WILL NOTICE THE SIGN." It was going to take me a while to get used to that voice. Why didn't the professor say something to this guy? Like the fact that he was practically yelling indoors? I looked for a sign. He noticed I was scanning and pointed, "THERE, ON THE WALL." I saw a paper had been taped to the wall with an odd phrase. "READ THE PHRASE ALOUD AND WORK ON THE COMPUTER."
I read the words on the sign aloud and clicked to start the computer program. The hum of the machines in the room were soothing.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The computer instructions told me to memorize a string of letters and numbers silently. I clicked to continue.
"NO."
Jolted, I looked over at the wheelchaired man.
"NO. REPEAT THE PHRASE REPEATEDLY. THEN DO THE PROBLEMS. WHILE YOU REPEAT. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" He spoke condescendingly as if I should have known.
"Oh. Okay, sorry. I didn't realize..."
"NO. NO OTHER WORDS. SAY NOTHING BUT THE PHRASE."
Long Blood Oozes Down.
This was beginning to strike me as weird. I glanced at the professor in the corner. He was taking notes and looking down. I could just leave. But this experiment was required for me to pass psychology. If I could get it over with, I wouldn't have to worry about participating in any other studies. If this was a taste of the experiments... who knows what the others would be like??
I stared at the screen.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
I took a breath.
I repeated the phrase.
I memorized letters.
I solved basic math problems.
I worked puzzles.
All the while repeating the phrase. The wheelchaired man just sat and stared at me. He was uncomfortably close, but I did my best to ignore it.
The phrase became a long string of nonsense sounds to me.
An hour passed.
I was almost lulled into a daze saying this phrase that had initially disturbed me, but was now simply a chant of nonsensical noises I was making with my vocal chords.
"NO, NO."
The man's loud nasal tones pulled me out of my chanting.
I looked over at him.
"NO. YOU MUST SAY THE WORDS CLEARLY."
While I am typing this in clear English, I had no idea what he was trying to say at first.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
"Could you elaborate, please?"
He gave me an example of what he meant. He said the phrase, though I couldn't tell it was English. I repeated it to him verbatim, exactly how he said it.
"NO, THAT ISN'T IT"
I said the phrase using good enucication.
"YES. THAT IS BETTER", a nod.
I repeated the phrase.
After another half hour had passed.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
He handed me a piece of paper.
"READ THE SCREEN."
The screen told me I would answer trivia questions, but also I needed to remind my experimenter to call someone in 20 minutes, and to ask for a red pen on question 60. If I had any further questions, I was to ask my experimenter.
I had a question.
"WHAT?", he asked as if I shouldn't have questions.
"Can I write on this paper you gave me? Is that allowed?"
He nodded.
"Great!" I made a note of the instructions I was given on the front sheet.
He looked at me with a shocked expression.
"NO. NO. NO! YOU CAN NOT DO THAT."
"Why not? You said I could write on this paper, right?"
I could tell he was not happy.
"UMM." He paused, unsure how to continue. "You weren't supposed to do that." he said it quietly, as if I was in trouble.
"What do you want me to do? Do you have another paper?"
He pondered this, then shrugged it off.
"PROCEED WITH THE TESTING. AND SAY THE PHRASE."
I took a breath and started clicking. "REPEATEDLY," he added, as if I had forgotten his first outburst.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
I proceeded with the test. The only alteration I had made to my test paper was to add a star to question 60, though he had acted like it was the end of the world. I remembered the 20-minute-phone-call. When I told him, he nodded.
Um.
I wanted to tell him to go make his phone call. I wasn't sure if it was a test to see how persistent I was. The computer told me the experimenter was supposed to actually make a phone call. My guy was just sitting there, motionless, staring at the side of my head, breathing heavily. If he made a phone call, maybe he'd stop staring at me.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
I have decided that I don't like being stared at like that: coldly, unblinkingly.
The phrase again became a singsong mantra, though I said the words clearly.
I finished the questions.
"Anything else?", I asked.
"No. BUT," he leaned in, "I TELL YOU THIS: YOU MUST NOT SPEAK OF THIS TO ANYONE. TELL NO ONE WHAT YOU SAW TODAY. PROMISE OK?"
Long Blood Oozes Down.
I just stared blankly and stood. Freedom at last?
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The professor stood and shook my hand saying, "Thank you so much for your time. Have a pleasant day."
I felt strange.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
Two hours had passed in total in that closet-type room.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
Two hours repeating a mindless creepy phrase.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
Two hours of my sanity sucked away.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
The rest of my day felt surreal, and not entirely pleasant.
I followed up my experiment time by clearing my head on a run.
I am still unsure what they were really testing: my ability to handle myself in a surreal setting? My ability to memorize useless facts?
I'll probably never know.
Long Blood Oozes Down.
Thursday, October 04, 2012
running. late.
This is a true story and one of the weirdest things to happen to me in the past few weeks. I present part 1 of it:
Long blood oozes down.
I was running late.
I parked in my designated spot, grabbed my bag, and dashed out of my car. It was a mile to my meeting point, thanks to my far-off parking spot, but I had on running gear, as I was planning on going to the gym after my appointment. The day was warm and the sun was shining; I was going to participate in a research psychology project as a test subject. My professor had told me it would be educational and informative. I would be seeing "real-life" psychology work.
A sense of giddy expectation filled me as I anticipated what the project would be like. The description I had been given while signing up was vague; something concerning memory retention and basic skills.
I jogged across campus to the building.
Long blood oozes down.
I arrived at the drab building, breathless. I walked in, trying to figure out what floor my experiment would be on. The design of the building screamed 1960's "modern" architecture, which is not a beautiful sight in any situation.
I scanned the directory at the entrance: my experiment was on the 7th floor. Currently being on the 2nd floor, and being short on time, I decided to take the stairs. 12 flights up and even more out of breath.
Long blood oozes down.
If anything could give me the creeps, I would say the 7th floor would be on that list. The floor plan was identical to the 2nd floor, but instead of tidy hallways and classrooms, cardboard boxes were stacked along the hallway walls, old office furniture sat in a pile. Rooms branched off of the square hallway, doors shut, contents undisclosed. I was becoming disturbed by the unprofessional surroundings.
The premises were silent, aside from the occasional murmur of human voice coming from behind those closed doors. I saw one man walking the hall. We made eye contact, and I smiled, but he looked away and exited the floor, not adding to my comfort level.
The hallway wrapped around the floorplan in a square, making it hard to become lost, a security for which I was becoming increasingly thankful. It was not the kind of place you would want to be lost in, this seemingly deserted place with its harsh florescent lighting and linoleum floor.
Walking the square, I finally found the room I was supposed to enter. A hand-made sign scrawled in a shaky hand was posted beside the door. It read, "Experiment #156" with a wobbly arrow drawn beneath it, designating my place of entry. I took a breath, reminded myself that I also had pepper-spray on my keychain, and walked in. This was, after all, a university-sanctioned experiment.
Long blood oozes down.
I walked into the room, still slightly breathless from my exertion. Upon entering the room, a man, typing at a desk, looked up at me. His hair was well-kept, he wore a goatee, khakis, and a mild-mannered expression. His smile reassured me, he looked the picture of a calm, rational psychoanalyst. I felt myself relax slightly and began to feel more at ease despite feeling like I was in a storage container.
"You are here for the experiment?", he asked.
I began, "Yes, you see I'm sorry I'm a few minutes late, but --"
He cut me off, looking past me. "Follow that man", he instructed.
Not realizing there was another person in the room, I first followed his gaze...
The man before me was nothing like I was expecting.
(part 2)
Long blood oozes down.
I was running late.
I parked in my designated spot, grabbed my bag, and dashed out of my car. It was a mile to my meeting point, thanks to my far-off parking spot, but I had on running gear, as I was planning on going to the gym after my appointment. The day was warm and the sun was shining; I was going to participate in a research psychology project as a test subject. My professor had told me it would be educational and informative. I would be seeing "real-life" psychology work.
A sense of giddy expectation filled me as I anticipated what the project would be like. The description I had been given while signing up was vague; something concerning memory retention and basic skills.
I jogged across campus to the building.
Long blood oozes down.
I arrived at the drab building, breathless. I walked in, trying to figure out what floor my experiment would be on. The design of the building screamed 1960's "modern" architecture, which is not a beautiful sight in any situation.
I scanned the directory at the entrance: my experiment was on the 7th floor. Currently being on the 2nd floor, and being short on time, I decided to take the stairs. 12 flights up and even more out of breath.
Long blood oozes down.
If anything could give me the creeps, I would say the 7th floor would be on that list. The floor plan was identical to the 2nd floor, but instead of tidy hallways and classrooms, cardboard boxes were stacked along the hallway walls, old office furniture sat in a pile. Rooms branched off of the square hallway, doors shut, contents undisclosed. I was becoming disturbed by the unprofessional surroundings.
The premises were silent, aside from the occasional murmur of human voice coming from behind those closed doors. I saw one man walking the hall. We made eye contact, and I smiled, but he looked away and exited the floor, not adding to my comfort level.
The hallway wrapped around the floorplan in a square, making it hard to become lost, a security for which I was becoming increasingly thankful. It was not the kind of place you would want to be lost in, this seemingly deserted place with its harsh florescent lighting and linoleum floor.
Walking the square, I finally found the room I was supposed to enter. A hand-made sign scrawled in a shaky hand was posted beside the door. It read, "Experiment #156" with a wobbly arrow drawn beneath it, designating my place of entry. I took a breath, reminded myself that I also had pepper-spray on my keychain, and walked in. This was, after all, a university-sanctioned experiment.
Long blood oozes down.
I walked into the room, still slightly breathless from my exertion. Upon entering the room, a man, typing at a desk, looked up at me. His hair was well-kept, he wore a goatee, khakis, and a mild-mannered expression. His smile reassured me, he looked the picture of a calm, rational psychoanalyst. I felt myself relax slightly and began to feel more at ease despite feeling like I was in a storage container.
"You are here for the experiment?", he asked.
I began, "Yes, you see I'm sorry I'm a few minutes late, but --"
He cut me off, looking past me. "Follow that man", he instructed.
Not realizing there was another person in the room, I first followed his gaze...
The man before me was nothing like I was expecting.
(part 2)
Thursday, September 27, 2012
focus. focus.
Hey blog peeps.
I have many many good stories.
I've shared some verbally, and they were entertaining to my listeners.
For real! There's nothing like getting instant feedback by hearing a laugh or seeing amusement on your listener's face.
...I'm pretty sure that means the story would make a good blog posting. The only problem with this is that I don't have the time to sit and type it all out in a way that conveys it in the right way to you. I have to be in the right mindset.
Right now my mindset is to focus on homework (...which I'm obviously doing well as I'm typing on my blog)
FOCUS.
Yeah...
So, maybe sometime when I have time to really type, I'll share some of the stories from this crazy college experience.
Maybe tomorrow.
Also, this:
I have many many good stories.
I've shared some verbally, and they were entertaining to my listeners.
For real! There's nothing like getting instant feedback by hearing a laugh or seeing amusement on your listener's face.
...I'm pretty sure that means the story would make a good blog posting. The only problem with this is that I don't have the time to sit and type it all out in a way that conveys it in the right way to you. I have to be in the right mindset.
Right now my mindset is to focus on homework (...which I'm obviously doing well as I'm typing on my blog)
FOCUS.
Yeah...
So, maybe sometime when I have time to really type, I'll share some of the stories from this crazy college experience.
Maybe tomorrow.
Also, this:
Friday, September 21, 2012
some weeks...
This week has been insane. I can't believe how much time it has taken. Physically, it has been no longer than any other week (as far as I know), but mentally, it has felt much, much longer.
It's the weekend! While I should probably rejoice over this fact, I'm slightly overwhelmed by the amount of homework that will be due in a few days time.
I feel like I should just be a hermit until said things are accomplished. I have a nervousness that I will put the things off [my tendancy] until they are all on top of me and I suffocate from the weight of procrastination. College procrastination is much heavier than high school procrastination, leading to sooner suffocation.
*deep breath*
It's all going to be okay.
On top of it all, this week has also been rather amusing in events that have happened. I really wish I had a camera crew following me discreetly sometimes, so that I could later view my week at my leisure.
Maybe I'll write a book. I'll write a book about the craziness that is my life. The style: tongue-in-cheek, because everyone knows those are the best kinds of books. It will be written for my own benefit, really. And probably I'll force a copy on my close friends and relatives.
But 19 years of my life have been fantastic so far, and rather humorous years at that.
I hope they keep going at this rate. Maybe it's just me, but I hold to the philosophy that humor and amusement is everywhere, if only you look for it.
...a decidedly good thing, for I dearly love to laugh.
It's the weekend! While I should probably rejoice over this fact, I'm slightly overwhelmed by the amount of homework that will be due in a few days time.
I feel like I should just be a hermit until said things are accomplished. I have a nervousness that I will put the things off [my tendancy] until they are all on top of me and I suffocate from the weight of procrastination. College procrastination is much heavier than high school procrastination, leading to sooner suffocation.
*deep breath*
It's all going to be okay.
On top of it all, this week has also been rather amusing in events that have happened. I really wish I had a camera crew following me discreetly sometimes, so that I could later view my week at my leisure.
Maybe I'll write a book. I'll write a book about the craziness that is my life. The style: tongue-in-cheek, because everyone knows those are the best kinds of books. It will be written for my own benefit, really. And probably I'll force a copy on my close friends and relatives.
But 19 years of my life have been fantastic so far, and rather humorous years at that.
I hope they keep going at this rate. Maybe it's just me, but I hold to the philosophy that humor and amusement is everywhere, if only you look for it.
...a decidedly good thing, for I dearly love to laugh.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Getting into shape
This made me laugh hard:
Anyways...
Four weeks into the semester!
My friend reminded me that we are (already or only, call it what you will) 1/4 of the way done with the fall semester.
I'm not sure if I should be encouraged or discouraged.
I have been struggling with time management. I am not the kind of person who can explicitly schedule out every minute of my day, but I do have to have some sort of structure in my life. I've been putting social first, which is not good. I need to become more of a hermit-like person.
I did go on an amazing fall retreat last weekend:
I realize that this whole "college thing" is totally a God-thing.
Going into it, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be getting in, I applied late, I would have to have a ton of loans, and then I was out-of-country for most of the class enrollment period. I was just like, whatever God wills will happen. I surrendered it to Him and stopped worrying about it {mostly}
All of those excuses? God took care of everything. Every little detail!
Now I just have to work to get the groove of using my brain.
I am feeling pretty certain that God has put me in this place to learn and grow. I've heard a few stories of God pulling people out of college to go into full-time work, but I'm experiencing the inverse. God directs every path individually (such a beautiful thought) and if I keep on trusting Him, I know He'll see me through.
My faith is growing through all of this.
So as I'm working on getting mentally in shape, I'm also working on the physical side of in-shapeness. Running around campus from class to class is a good workout. Whee windsprints! My backpack is also about 100 pounds [maybe a slight exaggeration], so it's a good arm/back workout.
My university has an amazing gym, and I've been trying to go there and swim, weight train, and run. My goal is to build up to the ability to run a 1/2 marathon again (and do way better than before)
I've never been a lap swimmer, so the ability to jump in and swim 25+ laps would be awesome. Yesterday I did 8. But Rome was not built in a day...
Anyways, all of that to say that there is much to work on and improve in my life, but God is holding me up! Kind of a boring update, but c'est la vie.
I so love this passage. I identify with Israel, thinking that maybe God doesn't care so much. But He does! {Isaiah 40}:
Four weeks into the semester!
My friend reminded me that we are (already or only, call it what you will) 1/4 of the way done with the fall semester.
I'm not sure if I should be encouraged or discouraged.
I have been struggling with time management. I am not the kind of person who can explicitly schedule out every minute of my day, but I do have to have some sort of structure in my life. I've been putting social first, which is not good. I need to become more of a hermit-like person.
I did go on an amazing fall retreat last weekend:
I realize that this whole "college thing" is totally a God-thing.
Going into it, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be getting in, I applied late, I would have to have a ton of loans, and then I was out-of-country for most of the class enrollment period. I was just like, whatever God wills will happen. I surrendered it to Him and stopped worrying about it {mostly}
All of those excuses? God took care of everything. Every little detail!
Now I just have to work to get the groove of using my brain.
I am feeling pretty certain that God has put me in this place to learn and grow. I've heard a few stories of God pulling people out of college to go into full-time work, but I'm experiencing the inverse. God directs every path individually (such a beautiful thought) and if I keep on trusting Him, I know He'll see me through.
My faith is growing through all of this.
So as I'm working on getting mentally in shape, I'm also working on the physical side of in-shapeness. Running around campus from class to class is a good workout. Whee windsprints! My backpack is also about 100 pounds [maybe a slight exaggeration], so it's a good arm/back workout.
My university has an amazing gym, and I've been trying to go there and swim, weight train, and run. My goal is to build up to the ability to run a 1/2 marathon again (and do way better than before)
I've never been a lap swimmer, so the ability to jump in and swim 25+ laps would be awesome. Yesterday I did 8. But Rome was not built in a day...
Anyways, all of that to say that there is much to work on and improve in my life, but God is holding me up! Kind of a boring update, but c'est la vie.
I so love this passage. I identify with Israel, thinking that maybe God doesn't care so much. But He does! {Isaiah 40}:
27Why do you say, O Jacob,and complain, O Israel,“My way is hidden from the Lord;my cause is disregarded by my God”?28Do you not know?Have you not heard?The Lord is the everlasting God,the Creator of the ends of the earth.He will not grow tired or weary,and his understanding no one can fathom.29He gives strength to the wearyand increases the power of the weak.30Even youths grow tired and weary,and young men stumble and fall;31but those who hope in the Lordwill renew their strength.They will soar on wings like eagles;they will run and not grow weary,they will walk and not be faint.
Thursday, September 06, 2012
Come back, Monday!
The whole labor-day thing is throwing my week out of whack!
I need my Mondays.
As much as I might moan about Mondays, they're actually a pretty amazing day.
They take the full brunt of people's complaints.
I don't think I know of anyone who thinks Monday is their favorite day.
A google search of "Monday" proved to be...interesting
From cute little kittens
To a really bizarre, "Have a Magical Monday"
Poor underrated Monday.
Monday is so dependable though. It takes a beating, is universally disliked, yet it still comes around once a week.
Except for this week. This week Monday took the day off, decided to be a weekend day, and the rest of my days have suffered.
I am used to having one day to gripe, and then all is well. Instead, my week feels like I overslept my alarm on an exam day, and I'm dashing out the door while trying to wake up.
>>>
I am a nutrition science major, and therefore I should be eating like a healthy person.
HA
Ha ha ha ha
If you saw what I've been consuming since the start of college, you'd be shaking your head. I'm working on figuring out how to eat healthily while also not having conventional eating times open and not being close to a kitchen.
My diet has ranged from celery sticks to McDonald's (though I'm not eating there again for a LONG, long, long time)
I have also been eating gluten-free bagels (I have a wheat allergy, therefore, gluten-free)
Bagels are one of my all-time favorite foods. When I found out wheat was making me sick, I was okay with giving up most breads.
But even giving up bagels? That was a sacrifice.
Then Udi's was discovered! I am now not feeling so deprived and full of self pity.
Only one thing that has remained consistent in my diet: my coffee.
I have consumed much caffeine.
I'm happy God created the coffee bean.
Also, a coffee company visited my college and gave a talk about their facility.
I now know my dream job: coffee cupping.
You get to taste coffee. As a job.
All day, every day, tasting and rating coffee.
I need my Mondays.
As much as I might moan about Mondays, they're actually a pretty amazing day.
They take the full brunt of people's complaints.
I don't think I know of anyone who thinks Monday is their favorite day.
A google search of "Monday" proved to be...interesting
From cute little kittens
Poor underrated Monday.
Monday is so dependable though. It takes a beating, is universally disliked, yet it still comes around once a week.
Except for this week. This week Monday took the day off, decided to be a weekend day, and the rest of my days have suffered.
I am used to having one day to gripe, and then all is well. Instead, my week feels like I overslept my alarm on an exam day, and I'm dashing out the door while trying to wake up.
>>>
I am a nutrition science major, and therefore I should be eating like a healthy person.
HA
Ha ha ha ha
If you saw what I've been consuming since the start of college, you'd be shaking your head. I'm working on figuring out how to eat healthily while also not having conventional eating times open and not being close to a kitchen.
My diet has ranged from celery sticks to McDonald's (though I'm not eating there again for a LONG, long, long time)
I have also been eating gluten-free bagels (I have a wheat allergy, therefore, gluten-free)
Bagels are one of my all-time favorite foods. When I found out wheat was making me sick, I was okay with giving up most breads.
But even giving up bagels? That was a sacrifice.
Then Udi's was discovered! I am now not feeling so deprived and full of self pity.
 |
| free product placement! |
Only one thing that has remained consistent in my diet: my coffee.
I have consumed much caffeine.
I'm happy God created the coffee bean.
Also, a coffee company visited my college and gave a talk about their facility.
I now know my dream job: coffee cupping.
You get to taste coffee. As a job.
All day, every day, tasting and rating coffee.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Glory Hallelujah!
Okay, cheesy as it may sound, I had a jump-up-and-down-inside kind of moment today.
I have to confess something: I have been in a spiritual slump.
My day was long and busy. Here's how it went down:
6:30am - Up and at 'em...after hitting the alarm 3 times. [yes, I set three alarms, spaced about 10 minutes apart, so I have time to wake up properly. SNOOZE DOES NOT WORK. I pretend it doesn't even exist, or else I'll hit it infinitely]
I grabbed breakfast and coffee, then dashed out the door to hit the beautiful downtown, heavily congested traffic.
The interstate I take is usually 3 lanes. Something had happened this morning to make those three lanes funnel into one.
Oh Beautiful.
But never fear, I took the next exit and used my innate ability to navigate (*cough* my gps *cough*) and arrived at school just in time.
Following this was a blur of classes, rapid note-taking, and trying to be an active participant.
Did I mention that my classes are in different parts of campus and are 15 minutes apart?
It's a good workout (but really, it is. I'm thankful for the excuse to dash about quickly)
After the classes, it was 1:30, and LUNCHTIME.
I ate, and then went to study.
I studied...
...and studied.
Chemistry is what my main focus is on, because my teacher (I do like him) told the class that we needed to devote at least 2 hours a day to the practice of Chemistry.
Optimally, 3 hours.
"How do you get to Carnegie Hall?", is his favorite question.
PRACTICE is the answer.
Following my study time, I went to some meetings [and am now a co-chair at the Nutrition Club! Yay!]
So it had been a long day, and I was about ready to just go home. I had gotten an email about a Cru (campus crusade for Christ) Bible study kick-off, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't like it/I'd be too tired/I wouldn't fit in/insert-excuse-for-not-interacting-socially. (I sound like a terrible person to expect the worst from a Christian group!)
On top of that, thought I, I'm going to Nutrition Club, and it would probably make me late to the Cru thing...and being late isn't good, so I won't go.
Crazily enough, Nutrition got out early.
I had no excuse for not going to the Bible study. I had been studying school stuff for the past few hours, so a break was on the to-do list.
So I went, in all honesty, expecting the worst.
My expectations were unmet.
I had a great time. I am so stoked about how it is working out! It was exactly the pick-me-up I needed, to be around a group of Christian peers, a more tightly knit group (the on-campus weekly big meeting has ~1,400 attending)
I mentioned it at the beginning: the slump. My spiritual slump has been a downer. I came back from Burundi all glowing with stories of God's provision. I had seen how He provided in real ways.
I felt almost like Moses coming down from the Mountain -- His face was GLOWING with God's glory, but the glory faded over time.
I was feeling like the glory was fading. I needed a renewal! Personal quiet time was good, but I think I was craving real fellowship.
I've been feeling like every thing Satan can use, he has been using to attack me and how I relate to God. Little things have added up to a discouraged, despondent, apathetic me [though it isn't very visible on the surface level].
It does hurt my ego to admit this, but it also feels so good. It is freeing to admit that one has been in struggle, because through it I can say that: God is faithful, and He doesn't let His own slip away.
This is part of what we read in Cru tonight:
(John 10, Jesus speaking)
11 “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12 The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. 13 The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep.
14 “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me— 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father —and I lay down my life for the sheep. 16 I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd. 17 The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life —only to take it up again. 18 No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.”
Knowing that Jesus knows me, that he is not like the hired hand who just runs off when attacks come, is...
it's...
I can't even describe.
I have been feeling attacked, but Jesus has my back, and He is the Good Shepherd. He gave me just what I needed today!
And get this: one of my Bible study leaders is a Junior and a Nutrition Science major, too.
It's the little things.
The other leader is awesome as well. We all clicked nicely, and the whole Cru event left me feeling refreshed and encouraged.
I love those moments. When God takes all of those expectations and flips them around.
Imana ni neza cane! (Kirundi for God is very good!)
I have to confess something: I have been in a spiritual slump.
My day was long and busy. Here's how it went down:
6:30am - Up and at 'em...after hitting the alarm 3 times. [yes, I set three alarms, spaced about 10 minutes apart, so I have time to wake up properly. SNOOZE DOES NOT WORK. I pretend it doesn't even exist, or else I'll hit it infinitely]
I grabbed breakfast and coffee, then dashed out the door to hit the beautiful downtown, heavily congested traffic.
The interstate I take is usually 3 lanes. Something had happened this morning to make those three lanes funnel into one.
Oh Beautiful.
But never fear, I took the next exit and used my innate ability to navigate (*cough* my gps *cough*) and arrived at school just in time.
Following this was a blur of classes, rapid note-taking, and trying to be an active participant.
Did I mention that my classes are in different parts of campus and are 15 minutes apart?
It's a good workout (but really, it is. I'm thankful for the excuse to dash about quickly)
After the classes, it was 1:30, and LUNCHTIME.
I ate, and then went to study.
I studied...
...and studied.
Chemistry is what my main focus is on, because my teacher (I do like him) told the class that we needed to devote at least 2 hours a day to the practice of Chemistry.
Optimally, 3 hours.
"How do you get to Carnegie Hall?", is his favorite question.
PRACTICE is the answer.
Following my study time, I went to some meetings [and am now a co-chair at the Nutrition Club! Yay!]
So it had been a long day, and I was about ready to just go home. I had gotten an email about a Cru (campus crusade for Christ) Bible study kick-off, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't like it/I'd be too tired/I wouldn't fit in/insert-excuse-for-not-interacting-socially. (I sound like a terrible person to expect the worst from a Christian group!)
On top of that, thought I, I'm going to Nutrition Club, and it would probably make me late to the Cru thing...and being late isn't good, so I won't go.
Crazily enough, Nutrition got out early.
I had no excuse for not going to the Bible study. I had been studying school stuff for the past few hours, so a break was on the to-do list.
So I went, in all honesty, expecting the worst.
My expectations were unmet.
I had a great time. I am so stoked about how it is working out! It was exactly the pick-me-up I needed, to be around a group of Christian peers, a more tightly knit group (the on-campus weekly big meeting has ~1,400 attending)
I mentioned it at the beginning: the slump. My spiritual slump has been a downer. I came back from Burundi all glowing with stories of God's provision. I had seen how He provided in real ways.
I felt almost like Moses coming down from the Mountain -- His face was GLOWING with God's glory, but the glory faded over time.
I was feeling like the glory was fading. I needed a renewal! Personal quiet time was good, but I think I was craving real fellowship.
I've been feeling like every thing Satan can use, he has been using to attack me and how I relate to God. Little things have added up to a discouraged, despondent, apathetic me [though it isn't very visible on the surface level].
It does hurt my ego to admit this, but it also feels so good. It is freeing to admit that one has been in struggle, because through it I can say that: God is faithful, and He doesn't let His own slip away.
This is part of what we read in Cru tonight:
(John 10, Jesus speaking)
11 “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12 The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. 13 The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep.
14 “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me— 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father —and I lay down my life for the sheep. 16 I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd. 17 The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life —only to take it up again. 18 No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.”
Knowing that Jesus knows me, that he is not like the hired hand who just runs off when attacks come, is...
it's...
I can't even describe.
I have been feeling attacked, but Jesus has my back, and He is the Good Shepherd. He gave me just what I needed today!
And get this: one of my Bible study leaders is a Junior and a Nutrition Science major, too.
It's the little things.
The other leader is awesome as well. We all clicked nicely, and the whole Cru event left me feeling refreshed and encouraged.
I love those moments. When God takes all of those expectations and flips them around.
Imana ni neza cane! (Kirundi for God is very good!)
Thursday, August 23, 2012
I'm still alive-ish
Hello my dear readers!
It has been a good long while since I have posted anything terribly significant on here. I have some good excuses for this, as my life has changed drastically in the past few months. (Africa to home to college)
You see, I am not the best at multi-tasking, and I have to say that my current phase of life is quite taxing time-wise. (I am taking a few minutes to just quickly update)
I am now a real-deal college kid. I *was* a college kid before during high-school (as my current school insists that I'm a transfer student), but I was never an University student.
Now I am here at uni, and it is a wild ride.
I am currently taking Cultural Anthropology, Intro to Psychology, Engineering Chemistry, Intro to Nutrition, a required orientation class, and Whitewater Canoeing.
I must say, whitewater canoeing is the class I am so so so stoked about. There are only 9 other students in my class, which is a lovely change from the lecture halls of 200+ students.
There is one little hang-up: part of the swimming requirement for said PE is that I be able to swim at an intermediate level:
Tread water for 5 minutes, and swim 4 laps straight.
Now 4 laps sounds measly (I have friends who swim 25 as their workout), but you must know that I am not a lap-girl.
I can swim pretty well, I took swimming lessons back in the day, so I thought this lap-thing would be a walk in the park.
I lean towards being pretty physically fit, too. I mean, I bike and run on a pretty regular basis. Nothing spectacular, but I have some endurance.
I decided to go to the pool yesterday to practice the swim test...no problem, right?
HA. I am such a land-dweller.
I DID swim 4 laps straight, but I was breathless afterwards.
You know that a lap is down the lane and back, right?
200 yards does not sound like a long distance to swim, but oh, my muscles are not tuned to this swimming thing.
They're used to pounding pavement or biking.
I tacked on another 2 laps, noticed the time, and decided that I had better get to the pool and practice again pretty intensively ASAP.
It has been a good long while since I have posted anything terribly significant on here. I have some good excuses for this, as my life has changed drastically in the past few months. (Africa to home to college)
You see, I am not the best at multi-tasking, and I have to say that my current phase of life is quite taxing time-wise. (I am taking a few minutes to just quickly update)
I am now a real-deal college kid. I *was* a college kid before during high-school (as my current school insists that I'm a transfer student), but I was never an University student.
Now I am here at uni, and it is a wild ride.
I am currently taking Cultural Anthropology, Intro to Psychology, Engineering Chemistry, Intro to Nutrition, a required orientation class, and Whitewater Canoeing.
I must say, whitewater canoeing is the class I am so so so stoked about. There are only 9 other students in my class, which is a lovely change from the lecture halls of 200+ students.
There is one little hang-up: part of the swimming requirement for said PE is that I be able to swim at an intermediate level:
Tread water for 5 minutes, and swim 4 laps straight.
Now 4 laps sounds measly (I have friends who swim 25 as their workout), but you must know that I am not a lap-girl.
I can swim pretty well, I took swimming lessons back in the day, so I thought this lap-thing would be a walk in the park.
I lean towards being pretty physically fit, too. I mean, I bike and run on a pretty regular basis. Nothing spectacular, but I have some endurance.
I decided to go to the pool yesterday to practice the swim test...no problem, right?
HA. I am such a land-dweller.
I DID swim 4 laps straight, but I was breathless afterwards.
You know that a lap is down the lane and back, right?
200 yards does not sound like a long distance to swim, but oh, my muscles are not tuned to this swimming thing.
They're used to pounding pavement or biking.
I tacked on another 2 laps, noticed the time, and decided that I had better get to the pool and practice again pretty intensively ASAP.
Thursday, August 09, 2012
Deal with it?
Deal with it
My eyes have been mega sensitive to the sun the past week or so. I'm pretty much at the point of the link above. I spent the whole day in shades.
My eyes have been mega sensitive to the sun the past week or so. I'm pretty much at the point of the link above. I spent the whole day in shades.
Wednesday, August 01, 2012
Oh say! I'm happy.
As I've been back from Africa, I am realizing how much STUFF I have. It's great and all....but I don't need so much of it.
It is time to purge.
Also, I am happy for a few reasons:
1) I now have a bike. A nice classic road bike.
At my church there is a nice older man who loves to bike...and set other people up with bikes. He had an old school Ladies Schwinn road bike he said I could have to use for commuting around school.
I have not ridden a bike in ages, so this past week, I've been getting back into the saddle.
I will not say that I'm super fast or that I have super endurance... but I'm content with getting in a good cardio workout. (Plus, that thing is going to be a lifesaver at school)
2) I now have a desk. A nice, vintage-y, student desk. Last week, I bought a desk from IKEA. It looked nice online...upon opening the box, I discovered it was ALL PARTICLEBOARD and it didn't seem very sturdy. I was so frustrated.
Beyond annoyed.
Words can not describe.
I checked craigslist again (I had been hunting on there days before and hadn't found a thing) and I found a cutesy desk for 1/3 of the price of the cheapo IKEA desk.
AND it's all wood.
AND it has butterfly drawer-pulls.
Score.
I have not yet written about my lifetime longing for a desk.
So here it is: I have wanted a little desk for a long time.
There. Written.
I have visions of writing great novels while seated at a desk -- Or actually penning letters to people (I'm terrible about it!).
I'll feel more like a profesh blogger when I type posts while seated at my desk. (first post written from my desk!)
At the least, I have visions of having a nice place to store my school supplies. [I have a love of office supplies: hilighters, post-it notes, index cards...]
3) I have 2 whole weeks of freedom before school starts. I've been catching up with friends, and it has been awesome.
4) Most importantly, I am loved by God. This is a reason to be joyful any day. Even when I'm not "happy" I still have hope because of this.
It doesn't matter what crummy mistakes I make in life, what crummy things have happened to me, He is always there to love on me.
He has also mega-blessed me with wonderful family. I don't know where I'd be if my parents weren't as great as they are.
5) I have a coffee in hand. Today, I have a headache. I have had a headache the past few days, and meds just do enough to take the edge off. I went out shopping with my sunglasses on, because my eyes are so darn sensitive to light today.
It might be all in my head, but I think I got some funny looks from people. I don't really care anymore about what the general public thinks of me. Africa kinda helped to get rid of inhibition.
Maybe I'm becoming a vampire.
It is time to purge.
Also, I am happy for a few reasons:
1) I now have a bike. A nice classic road bike.
At my church there is a nice older man who loves to bike...and set other people up with bikes. He had an old school Ladies Schwinn road bike he said I could have to use for commuting around school.
I have not ridden a bike in ages, so this past week, I've been getting back into the saddle.
I will not say that I'm super fast or that I have super endurance... but I'm content with getting in a good cardio workout. (Plus, that thing is going to be a lifesaver at school)
2) I now have a desk. A nice, vintage-y, student desk. Last week, I bought a desk from IKEA. It looked nice online...upon opening the box, I discovered it was ALL PARTICLEBOARD and it didn't seem very sturdy. I was so frustrated.
Beyond annoyed.
Words can not describe.
I checked craigslist again (I had been hunting on there days before and hadn't found a thing) and I found a cutesy desk for 1/3 of the price of the cheapo IKEA desk.
AND it's all wood.
AND it has butterfly drawer-pulls.
Score.
I have not yet written about my lifetime longing for a desk.
So here it is: I have wanted a little desk for a long time.
There. Written.
I have visions of writing great novels while seated at a desk -- Or actually penning letters to people (I'm terrible about it!).
I'll feel more like a profesh blogger when I type posts while seated at my desk. (first post written from my desk!)
At the least, I have visions of having a nice place to store my school supplies. [I have a love of office supplies: hilighters, post-it notes, index cards...]
3) I have 2 whole weeks of freedom before school starts. I've been catching up with friends, and it has been awesome.
4) Most importantly, I am loved by God. This is a reason to be joyful any day. Even when I'm not "happy" I still have hope because of this.
It doesn't matter what crummy mistakes I make in life, what crummy things have happened to me, He is always there to love on me.
He has also mega-blessed me with wonderful family. I don't know where I'd be if my parents weren't as great as they are.
5) I have a coffee in hand. Today, I have a headache. I have had a headache the past few days, and meds just do enough to take the edge off. I went out shopping with my sunglasses on, because my eyes are so darn sensitive to light today.
It might be all in my head, but I think I got some funny looks from people. I don't really care anymore about what the general public thinks of me. Africa kinda helped to get rid of inhibition.
Maybe I'm becoming a vampire.
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