Chase: *looks over shoulder* "I forgot you had a blog."
Me: "Me too"
Well, it took me a whole two months into my senior year of college to have an intensely nostalgic moment about my time here. And it would be during a conversation with Chase at 2:30am, each of us working on the same paper we should have finished hours ago. I don't feel sad or debilitated by it...just that "there's a time and a place for everything" sentiment.
So yeah, I have more responsibility this semester than I've ever had in my life, but I have stuck to the promise I made to myself that I would not sacrifice fun. And there are so many people to ensure that! Love it.
I have had some pretty significant emotional ups and downs since being back, but somehow it steadies out. Ultimately, I feel settled, like things are finding their place in my life in a fundamental way. I've had a rough couple of weeks, but when I sit back and reflect, I'm surprised to find how content I really am, and am continually learning to be. It's a gift, really.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
domestic success
My car is halfway (and neatly) packed! My room is a wreck, but I'm working on it. I'm leaving in 36 hours! And I'm not stressed at all! yes!
Also, for the first time in my (recently acquired) domestic career, something I baked turned out well the first time around. Not burnt, undercooked, missing a key ingredient, or anything of the sort! Blueberry-coconut macadamia muffins. My new favorite thing. AND I made homemade granola for the second time, and I didn't burn it. Usually it takes me at least two or three times to get it right.
For the most part this summer, I have eaten well and cooked or baked something almost everyday (or at least a few times a week). And I've enjoyed it! I even like grocery shopping, especially by myself or with my sister. Given, it was with my parents' money, but hey, I saved them the time all summer. Unfortunately, my consistently healthy eating habits and cooking endeavors kind of trailed off over the past two weeks...so this was my last push to finish strong.
Sigh. I am building my domestic endurance. This summer I made steady progress, but at this rate, I will probably not be fit to be a wife for at least 4 more years. Or so. Not that that is necessarily my focus in all this...it's just really satisfying to know you can do something, or to see the product of steady attempts to form a new habit or lifestyle.
Also, for the first time in my (recently acquired) domestic career, something I baked turned out well the first time around. Not burnt, undercooked, missing a key ingredient, or anything of the sort! Blueberry-coconut macadamia muffins. My new favorite thing. AND I made homemade granola for the second time, and I didn't burn it. Usually it takes me at least two or three times to get it right.
For the most part this summer, I have eaten well and cooked or baked something almost everyday (or at least a few times a week). And I've enjoyed it! I even like grocery shopping, especially by myself or with my sister. Given, it was with my parents' money, but hey, I saved them the time all summer. Unfortunately, my consistently healthy eating habits and cooking endeavors kind of trailed off over the past two weeks...so this was my last push to finish strong.
Sigh. I am building my domestic endurance. This summer I made steady progress, but at this rate, I will probably not be fit to be a wife for at least 4 more years. Or so. Not that that is necessarily my focus in all this...it's just really satisfying to know you can do something, or to see the product of steady attempts to form a new habit or lifestyle.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Ohmygoodness I leave for Hillsdale in six days to begin my senior year. This weird melancholy feeling is beginning to settle in. I'm sure it'll settle right out as soon as I hit the road, but still...this always comes. I'm usually pretty sensitive to my emotions, and I think a year or two ago I would have freaked out a little and wondered why I feel this way. But with all the ups and downs of the past two years, I've learned a little bit about adaptability and the fluidness of life...I kind of just roll with the emotions to an extent and accept them. There's a steadiness to that approach, which I appreciate and I think it's becoming a bit more second nature. Although, my journal may beg to differ, seeing as I try to confine my moments of emotional wreckage to those pages.
In other news, my pair of Diego Di Lucca shoes is a godsend. You may wonder at this proclamation, seeing as I typically do not idolize articles of clothing. Is it because this designer boasts that he creates "art to wear on your feet"? Hah. Oh yes, they are beautiful, but who the hell cares if I'm wearing "art on my feet"(except maybe Josh)? Actually, the reason is that they are the most comfortable shoes I own, next to the Tevas Andrea gave me. I wore these shoes (I will call them "Mary" because according to the website, that is their name) all day* and my feet don't hurt at all. In fact, my feet were aching this morning from my measly 4 hour shift at work yesterday, for which I was forced to wear my impractical black heels (I'll call them "Satan" because I think that's who made them). And wouldn't you know, I believe Mary healed my feet, because as I sit here preparing to go to bed after a 13 hour day, my feet feel great. Truly remarkable.
*All day includes church, lunch out with the fam, a 5 hour shift at work, and dinner from 7:30 to 11pm.
In other news, my pair of Diego Di Lucca shoes is a godsend. You may wonder at this proclamation, seeing as I typically do not idolize articles of clothing. Is it because this designer boasts that he creates "art to wear on your feet"? Hah. Oh yes, they are beautiful, but who the hell cares if I'm wearing "art on my feet"(except maybe Josh)? Actually, the reason is that they are the most comfortable shoes I own, next to the Tevas Andrea gave me. I wore these shoes (I will call them "Mary" because according to the website, that is their name) all day* and my feet don't hurt at all. In fact, my feet were aching this morning from my measly 4 hour shift at work yesterday, for which I was forced to wear my impractical black heels (I'll call them "Satan" because I think that's who made them). And wouldn't you know, I believe Mary healed my feet, because as I sit here preparing to go to bed after a 13 hour day, my feet feel great. Truly remarkable.
*All day includes church, lunch out with the fam, a 5 hour shift at work, and dinner from 7:30 to 11pm.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
good day
Cupboard Maker Books is truly a friend to college students. Well, only if you are an English major and not in need of an actual textbook. While most of the books this place sells are timeless, the minority that you wish could be of use to you are pretty much outdated as far as volumes and editions go. Sure it looks like a ugly old concrete warehouse (it is)...BUT, most of the books are $3-10 and they have sales! Why have I not done the majority of my book shopping here for the past three years?? I could have saved hundreds of dollars. Not even exaggerating a little. Oh well. I bought:
Huckleberry Finn
Walden and Other Writings
The Portrait of a Lady
Perelandra
...all required texts for classes for $9 because there was a sale on classics. And then I decided to buy For Whom the Bell Tolls (Hemingway) and The Power and the Glory (Greene) for fun bringing my total up to $16. It was wonderful. I think there are a couple more books I can get there so I'm going back tomorrow.
And THEN I went to Borders with a 40% off one book coupon and bought The Landmark Thucydides for the Victor Davis Hanson class for $16 as well (originally 35 or something at the bookstore). Such a great day. I love books.
I was flipping through For Whom the Bell Tolls, and I noticed in the front he quotes John Donne from Meditation XVII, the "no man is an island" excerpt. I don't care who is quoting John Donne, or where I read it, I always get excited. I am sure it was an act of Providence when Dr. Whalen assigned to me "The Sun Rising" for a paper topic. I loved writing about that poem. But anyway, I didn't know that Hemingway borrowed the title from him.
"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
Read the rest here. I read it and swoon. The context gives even more life to this popular excerpt. Here a couple more amazing lines:
"And when she (the church) buries a man, that action concerns me: all mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another."
"Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it. Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell, that tells me of his affliction, digs out and applies that gold to me: if by this consideration of another's danger I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security."
Huckleberry Finn
Walden and Other Writings
The Portrait of a Lady
Perelandra
...all required texts for classes for $9 because there was a sale on classics. And then I decided to buy For Whom the Bell Tolls (Hemingway) and The Power and the Glory (Greene) for fun bringing my total up to $16. It was wonderful. I think there are a couple more books I can get there so I'm going back tomorrow.
And THEN I went to Borders with a 40% off one book coupon and bought The Landmark Thucydides for the Victor Davis Hanson class for $16 as well (originally 35 or something at the bookstore). Such a great day. I love books.
I was flipping through For Whom the Bell Tolls, and I noticed in the front he quotes John Donne from Meditation XVII, the "no man is an island" excerpt. I don't care who is quoting John Donne, or where I read it, I always get excited. I am sure it was an act of Providence when Dr. Whalen assigned to me "The Sun Rising" for a paper topic. I loved writing about that poem. But anyway, I didn't know that Hemingway borrowed the title from him.
"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
Read the rest here. I read it and swoon. The context gives even more life to this popular excerpt. Here a couple more amazing lines:
"And when she (the church) buries a man, that action concerns me: all mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another."
"Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it. Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell, that tells me of his affliction, digs out and applies that gold to me: if by this consideration of another's danger I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security."
Saturday, August 2, 2008
resolved:
Will stay away from Nutella, no longer attempting to justify the indulgence by downing half a box of reduced-fat wheat thins. Avoid especially when watching Bridget Jones' Diary or any witty romantic comedy in general.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
latter days ~ over the rhine
(this song is beautiful and perfect)
What a beautiful piece of heartache
This has all turned out to be
Lord knows we've learned the hard way
All about healthy apathy
I use these words pretty loosely
There's so much more to life than words
There is a me you would not recognize, dear
Call it the shadow of myself
And if the music starts before I get there
Dance without me, you dance so gracefully
I really think I'll be okay
They've taken a toll, these latter days
Nothing like sleeping on a bed of nails
Nothing much here but our broken dream
Oh, but baby if all else fails
Nothing is ever quite what it seems
And I'm dying inside to leave you
With more than just cliches
There is a me you would not recognize, dear
Call it the shadow of myself
And if the music starts before I get there
Dance without me, you dance so gracefully
I really think I'll be okay
They've taken their toll, these latter days
They've taken their toll, these latter days
Tell them it's real
Tell them it's really real
I just don't have much left to say
They've taken their toll, these latter days
They've taken their toll, these latter days
What a beautiful piece of heartache
This has all turned out to be
Lord knows we've learned the hard way
All about healthy apathy
I use these words pretty loosely
There's so much more to life than words
There is a me you would not recognize, dear
Call it the shadow of myself
And if the music starts before I get there
Dance without me, you dance so gracefully
I really think I'll be okay
They've taken a toll, these latter days
Nothing like sleeping on a bed of nails
Nothing much here but our broken dream
Oh, but baby if all else fails
Nothing is ever quite what it seems
And I'm dying inside to leave you
With more than just cliches
There is a me you would not recognize, dear
Call it the shadow of myself
And if the music starts before I get there
Dance without me, you dance so gracefully
I really think I'll be okay
They've taken their toll, these latter days
They've taken their toll, these latter days
Tell them it's real
Tell them it's really real
I just don't have much left to say
They've taken their toll, these latter days
They've taken their toll, these latter days
Monday, July 28, 2008
My parents are watching a documentary about the Unabomber. I am in the next room trying not listen and get any more freaked out than I already am.
In other news, I am not used to being on a my feet for 8 hours a day. I don't know how I am ever going to hold a real job. My mom's response was helpful. She a) told me to consider how exhausting a teaching job is, talking all day every day (a post collegiate career I am considering) and b) "just think about what it will be like when you have kids" (just the thought of having children exhausts me, let alone having a job AND a family). Given, I will hopefully be a stay at home mom, at least until my kids are tweens, but still. I need to gear up for adulthood.
But today, I just came home and laid on my bed in a daze, still in my work clothes, trying to muster the strength to do my daily pilates routine. I am going to miss doing pilates with my mom. I feel like we're in a movie, probably a romantic comedy, except in the movie we would actually be in a class and the woman in the front would ring the gong and tell us to be quiet, a la 27 dresses or Sex in the City, which I watched for the first time during my solitary weekend. Anyway, I enjoy catching up on life, helping my mom plan how she is going to schedule the next day, and commiserating over our shared weaknesses as we "face the sun" and hold the "warrior pose" and move into "plank position." Actually it involves us bemoaning our stubborn streaks and hard-to-shrink thighs, as she apologizes for the fact that I inherited both from her. However, these aren't the worst things in the world. At the end of the day, I can always(sometimes halfway at best) swallow my pride when the other person is right and I have lost 10 pounds this summer so it's not all hopeless.
I will admit I am counting down the weeks and days until I leave for school. I am just as excited for the drive out as actually arriving. I really don't know what to expect about my senior year. I anticipate that there will be a lot of good, unexpected things. Unexpected, because I am trying not to expect much out of the things that are not in my control. Which is a lot. BUT I have some hopes for myself and my routine and my relationships, so we'll just go from there.
I began a journal on May 21 of this year, and I am pretty sure I will finish it before I get back to school, since I am about 2/3 through. I am a journaling fiend. I think writing out my thoughts and prayers "helps" but one day I just asked myself "what am I 'helping' exactly?" So I thought a little about my purpose in journaling. (I have had a lot of time on my hands this summer.) I'm grateful to have recorded my thoughts and emotions, especially when the latter surpasses my rational. But I just came away thinking that I really want to LIVE and not just write. Because I really don't think I verbalize 1/4 of what I journal about so how am I really communicating what is happening inside of me? Not just communicating, but really living and seeing the fruits of what I have written. Are they just momentary, passing thoughts, or thoughts that reflect the grinding internal movement that I feel and even know to be true sometimes?
Well, I have another 8 hour day ahead of me tomorrow. I am going to go bed, hopefully sleep well and...make eggs in the morning! Coffee, toast, and eggs...yum.
In other news, I am not used to being on a my feet for 8 hours a day. I don't know how I am ever going to hold a real job. My mom's response was helpful. She a) told me to consider how exhausting a teaching job is, talking all day every day (a post collegiate career I am considering) and b) "just think about what it will be like when you have kids" (just the thought of having children exhausts me, let alone having a job AND a family). Given, I will hopefully be a stay at home mom, at least until my kids are tweens, but still. I need to gear up for adulthood.
But today, I just came home and laid on my bed in a daze, still in my work clothes, trying to muster the strength to do my daily pilates routine. I am going to miss doing pilates with my mom. I feel like we're in a movie, probably a romantic comedy, except in the movie we would actually be in a class and the woman in the front would ring the gong and tell us to be quiet, a la 27 dresses or Sex in the City, which I watched for the first time during my solitary weekend. Anyway, I enjoy catching up on life, helping my mom plan how she is going to schedule the next day, and commiserating over our shared weaknesses as we "face the sun" and hold the "warrior pose" and move into "plank position." Actually it involves us bemoaning our stubborn streaks and hard-to-shrink thighs, as she apologizes for the fact that I inherited both from her. However, these aren't the worst things in the world. At the end of the day, I can always(sometimes halfway at best) swallow my pride when the other person is right and I have lost 10 pounds this summer so it's not all hopeless.
I will admit I am counting down the weeks and days until I leave for school. I am just as excited for the drive out as actually arriving. I really don't know what to expect about my senior year. I anticipate that there will be a lot of good, unexpected things. Unexpected, because I am trying not to expect much out of the things that are not in my control. Which is a lot. BUT I have some hopes for myself and my routine and my relationships, so we'll just go from there.
I began a journal on May 21 of this year, and I am pretty sure I will finish it before I get back to school, since I am about 2/3 through. I am a journaling fiend. I think writing out my thoughts and prayers "helps" but one day I just asked myself "what am I 'helping' exactly?" So I thought a little about my purpose in journaling. (I have had a lot of time on my hands this summer.) I'm grateful to have recorded my thoughts and emotions, especially when the latter surpasses my rational. But I just came away thinking that I really want to LIVE and not just write. Because I really don't think I verbalize 1/4 of what I journal about so how am I really communicating what is happening inside of me? Not just communicating, but really living and seeing the fruits of what I have written. Are they just momentary, passing thoughts, or thoughts that reflect the grinding internal movement that I feel and even know to be true sometimes?
Well, I have another 8 hour day ahead of me tomorrow. I am going to go bed, hopefully sleep well and...make eggs in the morning! Coffee, toast, and eggs...yum.
Monday, July 21, 2008
poor sister
I don't care how much simpler life is when you're young(er). I am so glad to be 21 and not 14.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
If only for once it were still.
If the not quite right and the why this
could be muted, and the neighbor's laughter,
and the static my senses make -
Then in one vast thousandfold thought
I could think you up to where thinking ends.
I could possess you,
even for the brevity of a smile,
to offer you
to all that lives,
in gladness.
~Rainer Maria Rilke
If the not quite right and the why this
could be muted, and the neighbor's laughter,
and the static my senses make -
Then in one vast thousandfold thought
I could think you up to where thinking ends.
I could possess you,
even for the brevity of a smile,
to offer you
to all that lives,
in gladness.
~Rainer Maria Rilke
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)