Ode To Adrienne

Adrienne Darrell is my friend.
Adrienne Darrell is wonderful.
I love Adrienne Darrell.
She makes me so happy.
Adrienne Darrell has a beautiful voice.
Adrienne Darrell likes care bears.
I love Adrienne Darrell.
She's my SAI twin.
If Adrienne Darrell was a kind of ice cream,
She would be Starbucks Java Chip with chocolate sauce, maybe.
God did a really good job on Adrienne Darrell.

The End.

Happy 21st Birthday, Adrienne!
*love and hugs and a girly drink (you're legal!)*


Oh. And a side note.
So my mom said the other day that blogging impresses her as perhaps one of the most presumptuous and egotistical pastimes one could possibly engage in. So I mulled that over for a while, and realized that -- based on the fact that I have at least two or three semi-regular (ok, semi-occasional) comment-posters -- my blog does not qualify as presumptuous. Or only mildly presumptuous. But that doesn't count.

And so I am left to contemplate the propriety of maintaining this occasionally-read, un-presumptuous, and possibly-egotistical blog.
What do you think?

SO. DONE.

Hold on, George, we'll be home soon. I promise.


I'm so almost outta here.
Can't wait!

But for now... errands.
And since exams are over, I don't even mind.
Lovely.

So I spanked my Shakespeare's Tragedies exam this morning.

But I think my Social Psych exam might have just spanked me.
Can that happen?
Is that allowed?


Or in the words so often used this semester...

Who told it that was ok???


But I digress. And I yawn. At the same time.
You see, I am a multi-tasking queen.


I do not multi-task when I nap.
Speaking of naps... zzz.
Wake me up for my last final, k?



Or, you know what? DON'T.
Sleeptime!

i am procrastinating. again.

why?

couldn't tell you.
but it stops now.

i hope.

GOOD MORNING.


that's all I have to say right now.

Before I completely give up and surrender to the welcoming sight of my pj pants and fluffy pillow, I must satisfy my conflicting desire to be productive. See, when I blog, I generate almost instantaneous results. I click the little "publish" icon, and there you have it. A spankin new post for all to read. Ok, for some to read. Alright, fine, for a few to read. Whoever wants to read it, can. Shut up.

So instead of writing another paragraph of my paper -- which, relative to the amount of satisfaction I feel after a blog posting, pleases me very little -- I've decided to type a few lines here and see what happens. Inevitably, I will feel a mixture of accomplishment at finishing my post and a mild resentment that my time spent typing was not better spent in slumber. But it's my choice; thus, it's also my fault. It always is.

But, because the prospect of sleep is so appealing to my exam-weary mind and drooping eyelids, I'll abbreviate. Perhaps some of these things that I mention briefly here will be blogged about in further detail in the future. Perhaps not. I guess you'll just have to wait and see.

*The Messiah performances... if you have to stand for two and a half hours, what better way to do it than to spend it singing praises to our King of Glory for His miraculous birth, precious life, redeeming death, and everlasting triumph?!

*Aaron White came to visit on Thursday/Friday night to see Messiah!!! What a blessing to have him back on campus, even if it was only for a day and a half!

*Saturday, 12.4.04. Messiah. Oakley. The Outpost. Fun times. Good company. Yay!

*Writing a coherent, five-page paper on a topic that makes no sense at all, during the day, in between classes and such because you fell asleep the night before -- and definitely NOT for a fifteen minute power nap -- is what I call success. Proceeding to shower and prepare notes for a meeting with a professor to discuss yet ANOTHER paper in less than an hour is also success. Getting out of unnamed professor's office alive counts as third success of the day.

*The Mu Alpha Concert made my night on Tuesday. Mostly because my day was so terrible. But really, I thoroughly enjoyed the concert -- all the guys did a great job; especially memorable were the SAI Concert's "Sad Song" rebuttal, given in the form of the "Happy Song" and a certain *very secure* young man's rendition of a song from Disney's The Little Mermaid. In costume. I'm not kidding.

*You know that day that they set aside for us students so we can catch up on rest and then be productive and study before exams begin? Pssh. Yeah, that worked.

*I just had my first exam. Three more to go. Two more papers. So almost done. Score!


I'm definitely ready to get out of Hillsdale for a little while. There's been too much trauma and drama around here, and I'm ready for a change in atmosphere. I'm ready to wake up late. er. I'm ready to make the house pretty with Christmas decorations. I'm ready to do a little pleasure reading. I'm ready to see my cat. And make sure she doesn't make a meal out of George, my fish who will be coming home with me. I'm ready to dance on my stage again. I'm ready to beat my brother at Battleship. And maybe now I'll challenge him to Mortal Kombat. I'm ready to see old friends. I'm ready to spend time with family. I'm ready to have my faith rejuvenated and my spirit refreshed. I'm ready to sleep.



I'm ready to say, "Would you like me to start a fitting room for you?"

As promised...

*Thanksgiving 2004 Unforgettable Moments and Quotes*

Disclaimer: If your Thanksgiving break was not spent in Boscobel, WI with the Swenson family, you may or may not find enjoyment in reading this rather extensive list of quotes and priceless moments. I will attempt to offer a brief explanation whenever I deem it necessary and wherever one seems possible. However, I make no guarantees.

Sometimes, you just have to be there.
And am I ever glad I was...

Before we even set out, one Cate Larsen made it blatantly -- if not painfully -- clear to Jack Nehlsen, a member of our carpool party, exactly what the consequences would be should he decide to traumatize any of the rest of us in the van on the way to Wisconsin. I think she made her point...
"If you even think about doing ANYTHING to any of my girls, I will hurt you. And you know I will." ~Cate Larsen (glaring and waving a threatening fist)

Thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Holsclaw, the ride to Madison, WI was distinctly more enjoyable than expected -- even a 2 1/2 hour delay in Chicago couldn't stop us all from getting a little goofy -- especially Mr. Holsclaw...
"I'm in a van and I am secure in my masculinity -- I have six kids!" ~Mr. Holsclaw, commenting on the high number of sports cars frequenting the expressway in and around Chicago

"You mean the guy you forced to kiss you?!" ~Mr. Holsclaw, addressing Mrs. Holsclaw. For real.

"I wonder if Jack's been picked up yet..." ~One of us in the car
"He's probably still in Burger King making napkin castles by now." ~Mr. Holsclaw

By the time we got to Tami's house on Tuesday night (ok, Wednesday morning), it was becoming relatively clear that our brains were not functioning on higher levels. Somewhere in there, Tami and I stumbled upon our newest idea for getting ourselves to Hollywood. Coming soon to theaters... Crouching Tami, Hidden Katie.

Who needs Gludfest when we're planning the biggest bash EVER in the form of the 1st annual Kent Party?
(This party will be held in honor of Tami's cousin Kent. He does not understand what we are celebrating. Nor does he need to. That's kind of the point, we think... after all, it's all about Kent now.)

As we played a game called Risk and came to the sobering realization that Jaimi would, indeed, be taking over the world, there were numerous quoteworthy outbursts...
"I hope you die... in the kindest sense of the word" ~Mandi Swenson, addressing a fellow Risk competitor

"Get your pajamas on" ~Kent Hamoud, in reference to how much time Bethany would remain in the game once Jaimi began her attack on Bethany's dwindling forces

"WHOA!" ~Elizabeth Wong and I, staring with blank faces at the Risk game box. Don't ask. Mainly because I have no idea.

"There's a conversation going on over here, guys" ~Mrs. Swenson, in response to our rowdy Risk tactics
"There's a battle going on over here, Mom" ~Jaimi Swenson, matter-of-factly

"Oh well, they can always have plastic surgery!" ~me, in response to Curtis' complaint that one of his little plastic soldiers looked mortally wounded

The quotes kept coming...
"I HATE Wong!" ~Elizabeth Wong. Quote of the break. I kid you not.

"So Plus One was minus two?" ~me, pondering the dilemma of the Christian boy band Plus One after two members' departures

Fooseball.

"James, what is OUR name?" ~Katie McClure and me, trying to get James to acknowledge me verbally

"He only looks at me when I make my monkey face!" ~me, complaining about James' shyness around me
"It's so attractive!" ~Mrs. Swenson

"I saw a rainbow in the sky and on the floor" ~Alison
"On the floor? Was it from a prism?" ~Tami
"You think there are rainbows in jail?" ~Alison

Arabic coffee.

"The batteries lost their keep goingness?" ~me. Yes, I am an English major. Shut up.

Dill Amish Friendship Bread. Amish Friendship Pickles.

"So did you all have fun?" ~Melissa
"Besides a hay bale falling on Deborah's head?" ~Matthew, reporting on the misadventures in the barn

James. Need I say more?

The game of Mafia provided yet another outlet for countless quoteables and Kodak moments. Such as...
"I might as well be dead anyway" ~Jaimi, quipping about both her seemingly inevitable casting-out from the "town" as well as her *enviable* status as Alison's apparent human jungle gym

"I hate my life" ~me, after enduring criticism and suspicion for being "a boring townsperson"

"I think Elizabeth is the Mafia" ~Bethany, accusingly
"... Really?" ~Elizabeth, unsurprised and *dripping* with sarcasm

Josiah. Joseph. Judah. Jedediah. Judas. Jehosephat. Job. Jeremiah. Any others?

"Wait a minute, aren't you dead?" ~me, to Lauren, "dead" for ten minutes, attempting to influence the game

"She has a disadvantage... everyone wants her out anyway!" ~Jaimi Swenson, on the unsurprising result of our vote to cast Alison out of the "town" on suspicion of involvement with the Mafia. She was guilty as charged, but truth be told, it would have made no difference.

Later that evening in the kitchen, we girls decided that what Richard Simmons REALLY needs to come up with is a video program for all of us who would rather embrace our sedentary nature than deny it.
Inspired by lite beer commercials, we devised a new and improved way to improve cardiovascular health, slim and tone your figure, and build lean muscle. Get ready... it's the LOW JUMPING WEIGHT LOSS PROGRAM. Perfect for busy students, soccer moms, and anyone else looking to trim that waistline. Do it.

"I HATE Eli Wong! I love ELI though!" ~Elizabeth, on her "nicknames"... just call her "Eli" (Elly)

"I'm NOT obsessed!" ~me
"Well, it makes you dance... " ~Elizabeth
We won't be explaining that one. Whoever knows, knows. Ask if you must.

The Boggle Moment That Will Go Down In History
"Does anyone have the word 'haul'?" ~me, to a chorus of no's
"YES!" ~Bethany, a mere Boggle spectator, out of nowhere
(general confusion as she continues)
"I did! -- in my head!" ~Bethany, indignantly
"You're not even playing!" ~all of us

The trip to Dubuque, IA for shopping was fun, too. Scenic and fun. Full of wrong turns and missed exits and hydroplaning. But once we got there, it was worth it...
"OH, KOHLS!!!" ~Elizabeth and me. I'm not really sure.

"We could always live here... there IS a Starbucks!" ~me

Then there was Jaimi and her cleavage-baring bathroom trip...
"Take a picture, cuz you're never seeing that again!" ~Jaimi, channeling Miss Congeniality
"I didn't know this was going to be a PG-13 shopping experience" ~me, in response to Jaimi's, um, risque hand-drying techniques

"We think you should try THIS!!!!" ~me, as Elizabeth and I presented Tami with a long, black slip from the women's lingerie department. We weren't having so much luck finding a black skirt for her Chamber Choir performance, so we decided to get creative.

Unfortunately, the stress of the hunt gave Tami a headache, and by the end of our trip, her powers of perception -- and listening skills? -- were at least mildly impaired...
"I've never had a headache that made me feel like I have to throw up before... my whole head is throbbing" ~Tami, as we sit at the gas station waiting for Jaimi to fill up the tank
"Should I top it off?" ~Jaimi, leaning into the car, referring to the gas tank
"Chop it off? You mean my head?" ~Tami, clearly befuddled at Jaimi's offer and a bit incredulous as well at her sister's ability to hear her complaints from outside the vehicle

While we sat in the parking lot of Joanne Fabrics, Jaimi decided to tell me about the book Ella Enchanted, and we quickly realized that Tami was not the only one suffering from brain failure...
"... so the Prince threw three balls to find a wife..." ~Jaimi, explaining
"So, wait, they caught them? Where did he get these balls, and how did he decide?" ~me, ever the concrete thinker. Or just stupid.

We thought all would be redeemed by the next morning. However, on the way to church, Tami quickly put these notions to rest...
"WAIT. Straw ISN'T made of corn??? I feel deceived!" ~Tami, adamantly claiming to have been falsely indoctrinated by a cousin while still young and impressionable

Once we got to church in Fennimore, Messiah was EVERYWHERE. No joke.
"All we like sheep..." (we're going to demonstrate this one with our technical prowess -- it's a musical device!)

Who needs an "amen" when you can get an apple to spontaneously fall out of the communion table cornucopia? It was a real apple, too. And it thudded.

Teaching and demonstrating an Irish jig in the Swenson family's basement. Watching Alison prance around and assert herself as an Irish dancing expert. Almost.

Tractor pictures before leaving... we love John Deere!

On the way back, while trying to settle on a radio station, Mr. Swenson inadvertently picked up a rap song. He changed the station, but not before Elizabeth and I could decide what to do with our hyperactive selves...
"Hey, Mr. Swenson, go back -- I was trying to jig to that song!" ~me
"Yeah, go back -- we're Irish dancing back here!" ~Elizabeth
"I always jig to rap music. Do you have a problem with that?" ~me

Last, I found out about the extremely complex, in-depth, scientific process Elizabeth Wong employed to eventually decide on which English name she would embrace as her own...
"My mom wrote out a list three pages long of English names and told me I could choose my own, so I picked Elizabeth because it was the longest" ~Elizabeth Wong

But, lest you think she put no forethought into this big decision, be reassured; Elizabeth tested the waters before taking the plunge into her life of Elizabeth-ness...
"I'm Elizabeth, but I was Mary for a week!" ~Elizabeth Wong

And, in hopes of another Thanksgiving reunion in Boscobel, WI with more quotes and memories and pictures...
"I may have to fight over you for Spring Break, but I have RIGHTS to next Thanksgiving!" ~Tami Swenson

I think I'll be only too happy to comply.
The end.

So Thanksgiving break at Tami Swenson's house in Boscobel, WI rocked my socks!

I could try to go into a play-by-play and give every insignificant detail of the trip, but really... I'm not sure it's worth my time to type or your time to read. Perhaps a short list of highlights will suffice?

As for the highlights:

*a positively *loopy* drive to Madison in the van including me, Tami, Elizabeth Wong, Jack Nehlsen, Anna and Emily Holsclaw, and twins' parents, who graciously packed us all into their van and suffered through a 2 1/2 hour delay in Chicago, just to make sure we all got home safely (um, Jack?)

*the lovely traditional Arabic breakfast prepared by Mrs. Swenson -- menaaeesh -- yum!

*Risk... and Jaimi's strategy for systematic world domination (wait -- what happened to our alliance??)

*Thanksgiving Day with 34 other people in the Swenson household, perhaps more food than I've ever seen in one place that wasn't a buffet of some sort, beautiful piano music, Scattegories, and a video tape of Princess Nora's birthday party ("Where are all the kids?" "Maybe she didn't want kids at her birthday party" "I bet they didn't pass security" "Nooo... all the officials just wanted first dibs on the cake!") uh huh.

*playing the game Mafia for the first time in my life. I caught on eventually. And Mandi saved me a couple times, too. I like her. She's my friend.

*taking an ill-fated trip to Debuque, Iowa with Tami, Elizabeth, and Jaimi. But at least I got to go into cool stores I'd never set foot in before (Maurices, Deb), meet a couple of Tami's friends from high school, and see three states at once while crossing the Mississippi River! Sweet!

*church with the Swensons and the McClures at their church in Fennimore -- who needs coffee to stay awake during the service when you've got fruit falling out of the offering table cornicopia and rolling down the aisle?

*teaching Jaimi and the other girls a jig in the basement to Celtic Christmas music... ahh, I miss dancing!

*tractor pictures before leaving, watching Jaimi "jigging" on the front porch as we pulled out of the driveway, and driving away to the distinct sound of Alison's giggles in the seat ahead of me

Ok, so that doesn't even come close to covering everything, but there will be another blog -- soon to come -- which will be singularly devoted to our "Thanksgiving 2004 Quote and Unforgettable Moments" list. I know you're sitting on the edge of your seat already. But you'll just have to wait a little bit longer.

Wait anxiously. Check back persistently.
You will be rewarded.



But for now, dinner calls.

Loved the Michael Glud ("He's so humble!") cereal party at Niedfeldt on Friday night; corn pops, slap jack, fooseball, and a strobe light make for unexpectedly fun times! Anxiously awaiting Gludfest 2005...

Although our much-anticipated day in Ann Arbor was foiled by unforeseen complications which left us in a decidedly vehicularly-challenged state, Tami, Laurel, Jamie, and I took it upon ourselves to redeem our situation by creating our own cultural, culinary experience in the tiny (and ill-ventilated, may I add?) kitchen of Benzing. One fire alarm, two close calls, three fire fighters and a charred falafel later, we had a beautiful (and delicious) Arabic feast, complete with (edible) falafel, menaaeesh, sauteed vegetables, ground beef, couscous, and sparkling white grape juice! By the end of the night, the girls and I came to realize that our Benzing escapades, perhaps not as sophisticated and not nearly as far removed from campus as we had been expecting, were nevertheless just as enjoyable as any time we would have spent in Ann Arbor. Not to mention the money we saved. So next time, I say we try Thai... any takers?

The movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding makes me laugh. And every time I think I have my favorite character "for sure this time"... another one steals the show. The dad cracks me up with his whole "give me a word" routine. I LOVE the mom. The aunt is hilarious, the brother is so endearing ("yeah, that Dear Abby really knows what she's talking about"), and the Grandma who runs around cursing the Turks is so ridiculous and random... she just fits. I love it. If you haven't seen this movie, my friend, you're missing out.

Thanks to Kristin's sale shopping skills, we now have a super-comfy chair in our room for your lounging pleasure. Come visit us and sit in it. We like visitors. But not today, because we're up to our faces in homework. Well, Kristin is. I am, too, actually... I'm just in denial about it, which is why I'm blogging. That's Logic 101, Katie-style.

Oh yes, and please be in prayer for me right now... I am trying to figure out whether the Lord wants me to be a part of the missions team going to Uganda this summer. I've never been on a missions trip before, mostly because I've never been 100% sure of my motivations for going. If you could pray that I would earnestly seek God's plan, that I would make His desires my desires, that He would make His will abundantly clear to me, and that my heart would have peace and contentment with whatever that is, I would be so blessed.

I have to make sure that I put myself where He wants me to be, not where I want to be.

Thank you, friends!
Hope you're having a lovely weekend.

It's been quite the busy past few weeks around here, and unfortunately, my blog has suffered for it. Better my blog than my GPA, though, right? In theory, at least. Too bad they might both go down together in this little thing called reality...

But honestly, it's good to be blogging again. It's therapeutic... in a different way than journaling... in this whole sense where I know that at least a few people will see (and some might even care enough to comment on) the words and sentences I string together in this little bit of webspace I call mine. Sweet.

The past few weeks -- months, really -- have been about discoveries, sort of. Discoveries about people and situations and experiences that push me outside of my comfort zone and stretch beyond my former points of reference. And I like it, at least once I recognize it and appreciate it for what it is... an opportunity to rely on Someone higher, put my faith utterly in Him, trust Him completely with the outcome, and grow because of it. And sometimes it's just a really good chance to try something new, challenging, or fun... and risk looking silly... and not let inhibitions stop me from gaining the experience.

Working on the Admissions Call Team (calling prospective students to talk to them about Hillsdale College), co-leading a Bible study, spending time at the nursing home, going to the Charity Ball, performing in a group act for the SAI concert, consulting "the enemy" (kidding, of course) and learning some Scottish Highland dance moves, dueling with duct-tape swords, Irish dancing again (inexplicable release, emotional high, flood of freedom, and pure joy... makes me wonder if I'll ever be able to DO anything with it), and trying out some wonderful new churches instead of settling for one that's within walking distance just because it's "easy to get to and more convenient" are really just the tip of the iceberg.


Ha! Like tonight, with Discovery #637.8 (approx)

Tonight I played Mortal Kombat for the first time EVER in my life at the Mu Alpha House. Besides being one of the most violent, repulsive, and horrendous video games I've ever had the displeasure of witnessing, it is also one of the most physically and emotionally draining to play. Unfortunately for all involved, including myself, it is also rather addictive. Quite addictive, in fact. And I think I almost liked it a bunch of times. Sort of.

At the very least, it really was invigorating.
You should try it.





I'll play you, k?

Speaking to me tonight...

There is an intimate relationship between joy and hope. While optimism makes us live as if someday soon things will go better for us, hope frees us from the need to predict the future and allows us to live in the present, with the deep trust that God will never leave us alone but will fulfill the deepest desires of our heart.

Joy in this perspective is the fruit of hope. When I trust deeply that today God is truly with me and holds me safe in a divine embrace, guiding every one of my steps, I can let go of my anxious need to know how tomorrow will look, or what will happen next month or next year. I can be fully where I am and pay attention to the many signs of God's love within me and around me ~Henri J.M. Nouwen

What a comfort it is to know that before we were born, God made His plan for us ~Corrie ten Boom

Let not our longing slay the appetite of our living ~Jim Elliot

The life of faith is lived one day at a time, and it has to be lived -- not always looked forward to as though the "real" living were around the next corner. It is today for which we are responsible. God still owns tomorrow ~Elisabeth Elliot

Lord, I give up all my own plans and purposes, all my own desires and hopes, and accept Thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all utterly to Thee to be Thine forever. Fill me and seal me with Thy Holy Spirit. Use me as Thou wilt, send me where Thou wilt, work out Thy whole will in my life at any cost, now and forever ~Betty Scott Stam

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit ~Romans 15:13






Father, may Your love alone hold the key to my heart's joy and contentment.

Some thoughts before I go to bed...

Visiting the nursing home yesterday was so utterly rewarding. To start out, I randomly selected two names off of the Concerned For the Elderly list as names of women I would visit one-on-one during my hour-long time slot. See, before this, I'd been going during the residents' dinner hour, which -- aside from being awkward for the residents because they'd inevitably offer me their roll -- made me feel uncomfortable for interrupting their mealtime to ask questions. Often, their multi-tasking skills weren't the best, and dinnertime conversation tended to halt once the main course arrived and they had to focus their energies on cutting meat, opening packaged rolls, and chewing thoroughly.

Anyway, I'm now visiting earlier in the day, so I had planned on developing a more personal relationship with one resident. Yesterday was my experimental day -- I was going to visit with two women for about a half hour each and see who seemed more receptive to (and in need of) a random visitor. Well, of all the names on the list, the two women I picked out ("These sound like nice names! I think I'll give them a try") just HAPPENED to live together in room 161 -- yes, they're roommates. Not only that, but it turns out that BOTH women have connections to my hometown; one has a son and daughter-in-law who live and work there, and the other has a son-in-law who went to high school at Stevenson, one of the three Livonia district high schools. These ladies are *fascinating* women; they're vibrant, social, and have senses of humor that haven't faded with their advanced ages. I am honored -- and in a way, saddened -- that they are so willing and eager to talk, share pictures, tell stories, and open up their lives to me -- a complete stranger. At the same time, I am convicted by their obvious desire for interaction -- they crave it -- and the realization that there are many people in these nursing homes, needing and craving human interaction just like these women, who will not be visited.

And someday, will I be one of them?

On a lighter note, we also had the SAI date party yesterday. I was accompanied by Sean Michael, and I must say, I had a *wonderful* time! (Thank you for coming with me, friend -- I hope you enjoyed yourself as well!) Kristin, Cate, Tami and I all coordinated by wearing our extremely fall-ish sweaters, and even got a *supercute* "sweater picture" before we left for dinner. King Chinese Buffet was delicious ("do you need some more Pesi?" UM. yes please?) The corn maze -- by the time we got to it -- was awesome -- even when we got lost going in circles and hit dead ends ("BAD DECISION #47... TAKE TWO") Not that getting lost isn't the point *wink wink* ("I will seduce you with an ear of corn!"... for original reference, see Kristin) Anyway... we all eventually made it back to the SAI House for the bonfire (beautifully constructed, I must say, by my date), which was also a success. The fire was pretty, the s'mores were yummy, the hot chocolate was perfect, and the company was top notch... ("Cate, can you imagine YOUR kids playing with MY kids?"... "Johnny, HTP -- you are OOC!"... "By the power of Poseidon...!" :: Cate's laugh :: I can't quote it, but it's definitely worth including somehow) Whoa. Good times.

Ok, well... with that, I think I need to go to bed... my pillow and I have some good times, too. Just not enough lately.

G'night, friends.

The rejuvenating qualities of a much-needed weekend are numerous, and when some events, visits, and conversations seem positively *ordained,* it's more reassuring than ever that the Lord is indeed at work in our lives, no matter how hard we try to suppress His claim on our existence.

For numerous reasons, this past weekend could have been miserable. There was my test on Thursday, which didn't exactly go as planned. Well, so it sort of went as planned, but I definitely didn't like the plan. And I hadn't prepared for the plan. The plan stunk, ok? Then, there was the Gala, which flooded Hillsdale's campus with a ridiculous surplus of donors, gaudy chandeliers, and linen napkins. And I was sick, which automatically made the sky two shades grayer. And my voice two octaves lower. (hey, Baby. kidding.)

So I missed Ann Coulter. And I missed singing *and other such novelties* with the choir due to the distinct possibility that I may have started hacking in the middle of Battle Hymn or passed out cold on the risers. And, true to form, I missed Dan Quayle's speech on Saturday morning, as well. Rock on.

BUT.

Situations like these are a blank canvas for our awesome Father, Who mercifully takes these opportunities to paint majestic masterpieces with whatever materials we'll give Him to use. And with every brush stroke, He made this weekend a more beautiful picture of His grace and provision.

On Friday night, the night my roomie had to go out of town so she could be in Lansing for her teaching test the next morning, Betsy Foster -- an alum, former leader of my Bible study, and a dear friend -- came to visit me. Betsy's strong faith, gentle leadership, and loving friendship make her *such* a wonderful role model and an even more precious friend. She and I had the chance to talk for as long as my voice would hold out, and I got the *distinct impression* that God was talking to me, urging me, convicting me... all through our conversations. It was a beautiful thing. As it turned out, Betsy needed a place to stay overnight, so she was able to sleep in my roomie's bed since Kristin just *happened* to be gone the night Betsy came.

This weekend was also a special weekend because another dear friend of mine, one Joy Hendricks, came to visit from the University of Minnesota Morris. She attended Hillsdale last year, became an SAI sister and official member of the, um, Prankster Princess Posse (in fact, she might be the President!), and promptly felt called to leave to minister on one of the most un-Hillsdalian campuses around. Seeing Joy this weekend has thoroughly refreshed my spirit in ways I can't even explain in words -- her bold faith and radiant love for Christ shine into every word and action -- she's not just a light, she's like a million watt bulb!

So on Saturday, after performing with choir for the donors, Kristin came back to the dorm with Joy and Tami. Having felt sufficiently un-social for the better part of Friday and Saturday morning, I was determined to participate in *whatever* adventure they might be embarking upon. This adventure's name was lunch. A bit disenchanted -- but not to be left behind with my cough drops and echinacea -- I hurled myself (ok, scooted) into Joy's car with the other three girls and we made our way to Oakley, where I enjoyed hot soup, a warm multi-grain roll, and the fabulous company of chatty, giggly, and *silly* friends for an hour and a half. (um, WHERE IS THAT RECEIPT???)

After we'd loitered in Oakley sufficiently, we prepared to head back to campus, but Joy had other ideas. So even though it was already lightly raining, we turned our little car and headed out to Allen to an apple orchard. Which could have been fun, if our teeth weren't chattering and our fingernails turning blue. So instead, we parked and ran full-tilt-boogie to the door of... a gift and antique shop. And with the wind howling outside and the temperature only *slightly* higher inside, we wandered around checking out cider doughnuts, fruit preserves, Earl Grey Tea, antique recipe books, vintage aprons, 35 cent books, Christmas ornaments, old hats ("Look -- you're the Queen of England -- and I'm your truck-ah!"), teapots, perfume spray bottles from when our grandmothers were young, strings of pearls, and silly knick knacks galore. We left with cider and a beautiful old hat for Joy, thanks to Kristin's bargaining skills.

Later Saturday night, the lobby of Koon became movie-night central, and we decided to introduce Cate Larsen to the joys of one of the ultimate girlie-movies -- The Princess Diaries. She popped the popcorn, I made the hot chocolate, we all got comfy... it was definitely a GIRL NIGHT. Well, until Ben showed up. But it was still great after that, thanks to Cate's toasting skills, among other things...

Church on Sunday morning was not what I originally intended. But that's the great thing... it's what God intended all along. See, I'd planned to go to Pine Ridge with Joy and Tami, but I got sidetracked and wasn't ready in time. So I went to United Brethren with Cate and Ben, rather reluctantly. But here's the thing. The Lord will speak to us through just about anything, as long as it's biblical teaching and if we're willing to give it a chance. And as bummed as I was about missing out on Pine Ridge's sermon -- if I hadn't been listening for it -- I could have *really easily* missed out on God convicting me through UB's message. Sure, it wasn't what I was looking for or hoping for. But some of the most pertinent reminders God sends us come from unexpected sources when we're tapping our foot, looking at our watch, waiting for someone or something else entirely.

Brunch on Sunday was an amazing donor meal, catered by chefs brought in from who-knows-where to feed the people who are supposed to give multi-million dollar checks to our school to fund our programs. They eat *extremely* well. And for once, so did we.

Sunday afternoon was lazy. I sat on Kristin's bed with her, under her "warmness blanket" (otherwise known as an electric blanket), ate M&Ms, and watched Pirates of the Caribbean. Although, it might be more accurate to say that we *recited* the movie, for it appears that my roommate and I have now seen "Pirates" so many times that we are now able to recount entire portions of dialogue on command, and it is completely unnecessary to have the characters say their lines for us to find the humor in them. We must simply project what they will say, when they will say it, and that will suffice. Kristin and I will laugh an inordinate amount, our stomachs will hurt, and tears may eventually fall. In any case, it's a good time.

Saga dinner on Sunday was horrendous. This is not shocking, however.

At 10:00pm on Sunday, Joy and I scurried up the hill (incognito, sort of) to Catacombs... it has been SO LONG since I've been to Catacombs with Joy... it was WONDERFUL! It was just like last year again... I could hear Joy harmonizing in my ear with every song, and singing the benediction was bittersweet because I don't *know* when I'll get to see her again after she leaves to go back to Morris! But at the same time, I'm so happy because I know God is using her for His glory and the furthering of His kingdom -- how exciting is that?

And the last thing we (Kristin, Joy, and I) did Sunday night (after introducing Joy to Killer and George and fixing a certain desktop to "I am that hero!") was sit in "the Box" and listen to Emo Phillips. Funny man. Funny jokes. Funny voice.

Oh, and in case I forgot to mention it... this whole time, the Lord was definitely healing me. Because I didn't really want to stop having fun with people once I started again. So it wasn't really the Vitamin C. It was God being cool. Unfortunately, I think my roomie might be getting sick now. I'm sorry, Kristin.

Ok, and before I'm done with this crazy-long blog...

* Kristin got me the Good Luck Care Bear! Yay!
* Adrienne and Dean totally rock for bringing me Oakley while I was sick -- thanks, guys!
* Sean Michael is a ruler-cool friend for letting me use his "warmness blanket" and making hot cider when I was feeling yucky on Friday night!
* Matt Macaulay is sick now. I don't know if I had anything to do with getting him that way, but I feel really bad and I hope he gets better really soon. *hugs*
* We now have a quote board in Koon. Come check it out. Add to it. You might already be on it.


Ok, now I'm done. I think. Yep.
Whew!

So, it's back to blogging. At the most inconvenient time possible. Naturally.

It's all psychological, really. I have a Sunny-D midterm in less than 24 hours and paper in less than 48, and yet I've managed to convince myself that my blog should somehow take precedence over them.

The pursuit of academic excellence is highly overrated.
And I am in dire need of cold medicine.

On the brighter side,

* I went home for Fall Break and saw my brother play hockey and soccer. I also went to my grandma's 80th birthday party. And I got to see one of my best friends. And go shopping with my mom. And catch a cold.

* Dried cranberries taste good if you give them a chance.

* Mitch Hedberg makes me laugh. He also makes me want to wash his mouth out with soap. Sometimes he does both at the same time.

* Cate Larsen made a lovely dinner for her advisees over at Ben's house last night, and I definitely benefited from her culinary pursuits -- well done, Cate!

* If you're ever having a bad day, you should go check out Dean's collection of wigs. Trying them on and taking pictures would probably help, too.

* Warm, fuzzy sweaters on cold, rainy days are a beautiful thing.

* My roommate made me some sort of ginger spice tea this morning, and it was super-yummy.

* Yay for finding out that a dear friend is coming to visit -- THIS WEEKEND!

* It's fun to have an inside, secret sort-of joke that makes people giggle and smile, even if it is in front of everyone. Because even if other people notice you grinning like a goofball, only those certain people really know what's so funny, anyway.

* Midterms do not make me happy. They should not count on this "on the brighter side" list.

Alright, I've avoided it long enough. I really should get some studying done.
Perhaps I'll be inclined to update at a more convenient, logical point in time.

But probably not.

Love!

Why do silly faces and sword fights and Shirley Temples and bumper-chairs and eating chocolate cake with our fingers make an already delicious dinner at the Olive Garden somehow more enjoyable?

Why do computers have to get viruses?

Why does Enya facilitate a good reading experience when even Nickel Creek fails to satisfy?

Why is the washing machine in Koon broken... again?

Why does cream cheese freeze when it's left in our fridge with no lid? Is it because it's Great Value brand?

Why does campus feel so big when you're trying to hurry from Koon to Benzing on a chilly evening, but feels so small when brushing your teeth in the morning becomes a Q & A session about the events of the previous evening?

Why are cute little black heels with pink stitching at Target so irresistible?

Why do people think that sucking a salted lemon beforehand makes tequila (or its aftertaste) sweet?

Why does a sense of accomplishment follow the completion of a laundry session? It's merely another beginning of the quarter-snatching cycle. I'm not bitter.

Why is it so much easier to talk about studying than actually doing it?

Why do some people know just what to say and just how to say it, just when you need to hear it most?

Why do daisies last so long?

Why does shampoo have to run out so much faster than conditioner? Herbal Essences should take a hint from Infusium 23. They know what they're doing. Check it out.

Why did I not let my AP12 English teacher know about Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead while it was playing here? She would have loved it -- in fact, she probably would have brought her AP12 class. Bother.

Why did Kristin and I put a trash can behind my dresser and her desk?

Why on earth have we left it there this long?

Why do I want a hug, but not want to ask anyone for a hug?

Why does hot chocolate only really taste good when you're A. done sledding B. inside, cuddled up, reading a good book C. talking around a fireplace at night or D. somewhere cold, like an ice rink?

Why is it that when I specifically lack the free time to devote to it, the prospect of blogging is particularly attractive? Blast.

Why do I blog about things like these when I could blog about useful, meaningful, intellectual, or otherwise more important and interesting things?

Sorry, kids.

My heart hurts for the profound loss to our community which took place today.
The burial service was truly touching. And the turnout really wasn't bad, considering.
Many thanks to all who joined with us in mourning.

R.I.P. Savage, Sept. 2004 - Sept. 2004
Dear tankmate. Dear friend. Dear fish.
"He's not ugly, he's just black!"

Savage is survived by Killer and George Gaylord Churchill III.

Please send donations in lieu of flowers to the Kristin and Katie Mu Alpha House Fish Fund, from which all proceeds will be used to the benefit of the surviving marine life.

Obviously, updating my blog has been a high priority of mine in the past couple of weeks.
Obviously, my blog has been a high priority for others in the past couple of weeks, as well.

Obviously.

However, for those of you who have returned to read about how life is going for me:

1. Do I know you?
2. I like you already.
3. I'll like you even more if you leave a comment.

What can I say? I'm easy to please.

As for life... it's good. Here's a sample of what I'm thinking about tonight:

*The Relay for Life on Saturday was really wonderful. Our SAI team came together nicely after singing the anthem with the men of Mu Alpha. I walked for about 5 hours total, which actually isn't so bad considering we only had 7 official participants on our team to last throughout a 12 hour relay. And our team even won an award for its motto... "Cancer's in Treble Now..." (it's SUPPOSED to be dorky, ok?)

*The SAI Charity Ball ended up being one of the best nights of my life. Unexpected, that's for sure... but thanks to the encouragement of numerous friends and "sisters," the compassionate reassurance of two lovely ladies, and the completely unprecedented involvement and achievement of one Erin Ramsdell, I definitely made it to the ball with a renewed sense of excitement, sparkley earrings, and daisies in my hair. The Charity Ball itself was beautiful, the swing music was great, and everyone looked **stunning**. And I still can't get over how neat it was to have multiple dance partners who took my inexperience in stride and still managed to make me look like I knew what I was doing!

*The Rose Tea today was so pretty. It's late at night, my vocabulary is slowly depleting, and I'm running out of flowery adjectives. But it was really nice, and the tea was delicious. Yum!

*I'm trying to figure out whose idea it was to have the InterVarsity Barn Dance on a PATIO this year, and where I can send in my comments and complaints. Just kidding. But let's be honest here. Patios are for barbecues and such. The word "patio" does not send visions of square dancing and hay bales running through my head. Perhaps I'm being picky. But I think last year's venue was an excellent choice.

*My brother got called up to play for Varsity Soccer last week, played in half of his first Varsity game ever, and after being put in, promptly assisted on a goal to help the team win. I'm a proud sister.

*If you haven't heard yet, I have a goldfish. His full name is George Gaylord Churchill III (or just George -- Jorge, for any Spanish-speaking marine enthusiasts), and he's residing at the Mu Alpha house in a tank with Savage and Killer, my roommate's fish. If you stop by the MA house, you should go and visit our fish. You can tell which one is George because he's orangey-gold and looks normal. Kristin's fish are normal, too, but they don't look it.

*I'm really sleepy now.

Perhaps I'll do some more blogging soon, since my mind is *full* of some new ideas and deeper thoughts and random rants and raves I'd like to express... but for now, I think I'm off to indulge in some much-needed REM cycles. Finally.

Good.night. Friends.

It gnaws at my stomach that I will have to do laundry at some point in the very near future.

A wave of frustration washes over me as I realize that yet another day has gone by and I still have not called to renew my library book from home, which sits un-read and un-renewed on my dresser. I can almost hear the malicious librarians cackling at the thought of their slowly accumulating fortune. Blast.

Language defies me as I try to explain what it's like to get an email requesting guidance and friendly advice from one of my poor freshman mentees who is struggling to find employment while I, his all-knowing mentor, AM STRUGGLING WITH THE SAME DILEMMA FOR THE THIRD YEAR IN A ROW. There aren't words.

HOWEVER...

I am elated to report that after a twenty-minute interview with Judson this morning, I was given a position on the new Hillsdale College "Call Team" -- on the spot! Yes, I am bragging... but I am also merely reporting. And besides, this is my blog. And I can do that here.

My roommate and I (re)discovered the joys of kicking the soccer ball, cartwheels, and punching football "dummies" at dusk the other evening after going on a "roomie walk," and now I can't wait to frequent that field again and again -- to PLAY! It was a glorious release of energy and emotion and everything we cannot do in the classroom, and I would recommend it highly to anyone and everyone. If you are thoroughly confused or are inspired and would like someone to come PLAY with you, come talk to me. I think we all need a bit more PLAY and a little less stress in our lives.

And, finally... listen to The Blood of Cu Chulainn off of The Boondock Saints soundtrack. If it doesn't lift your spirits, almost move you to tears, and make you want to tap your toes -- yes, all in the same song -- I would venture to say that there may be something wrong with you.

So. About that laundry.

Sometimes...

Sometimes a Saga dinner can be a completely unrewarding culinary experience. Especially when you mistake sesame seed oil for balsamic vinegar and proceed to douse your entire salad with that most foul-tasting concoction ever produced. But at least it's still fun to people-watch.

Sometimes a hundred little conversations with Jesus throughout the day can make me feel closer to my Savior than one long prayer before I go to bed. He almost starts to feel like one of my best friends. And that's the way it should be; He's my Best Friend.

Sometimes a nap doesn't have to complete an entire REM cycle to be refreshing.

Sometimes dancing around the room with a hairbrush, belting out the latest Dashboard Confessional songs can be a major emotional release. Sometimes I use my waterbottle, and that works, too.

Sometimes you (ok, I) miss class because you're (I'm) kind of an idiot; like if you (I) just forget when the class starts, so you (I) keep talking to a professor outside of Delp and even think to yourself (myself), "wow, this is great -- I might even have time to check my email!"... but really, you (I) end up being 15 minutes late. Then it's really a pain because it's hard to say to your (my) professor, "I'm sorry, I missed your class because I'm kind of an idiot." I'm not sure how you (I) would do that. I hope that never happens to you (me). HA.

Sometimes Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream solves problems. Even the complicated ones... temporarily.

Sometimes some people make me wonder. But I guess maybe I make some people wonder sometimes, too.

I like this year so far. It's full of interesting people and situations and relationships and challenges and laughs and cries and hurts and smiles and friends and fellowship and worship and prayer and Saga meals and lectures and homework and papers and exams and parties and barbecues and movies and girls' nights and music and cosmic bowling and Oakley and Mu Alpha serenades and baking and The Gathering coffee and Catacombs and singing and SAI and study nights in the Snack Bar and long walks and porch monkeying.

And animal crackers. Yum.

So I'm twenty years old.
Yesterday was my birthday.
Sweet.

I'm twenty years old now. As in, I am no longer a teenager. My parents can no longer tell their friends and aquaintences "We have a teenage daughter" and watch in dismay as these uninformed ninnies roll their eyes, "tsk, tsk," and shake their heads in pity, as if they had just been informed of some sort of natural disaster. No more.

I'm twenty years old now. I've completed two decades of my life. And although part of me thrills to the knowledge that no one will make assumptions, unfairly judge, or automatically label me by my "teen" status anymore, another part of me trembles to think that that loathed term -- my safety net, my security blanket, my built-in excuse -- has been taken forever.

So I'm twenty years old.
Sweet.

This is going to take some getting used to.

It's Definitely Time To Go Back...

I want to have a structured -- or at least semi-structured -- schedule.
I want to have a 2 hour long conversation... in the Koon community bathroom.
I want to study while watching "Braveheart," "Finding Nemo," "Memento," "Emma," and other random movies in the lobby.
I want to have roomie pizza nights with Kristin.
I want to use a non-Neolithic computer.
I want to devote an un-tethered amount of time to prayer and devotions.
I want to spend an entire night remembering art history names, dates, and titles based on such non-sensical explanations as "one for each eye!" (love you, Leah)
I want to do cartwheels and round-offs in the quad after midnight and not care about grass stains or dirt in my fingernails.
I want to get back to a place where the word "Oakley" implies a sandwich, not sunglasses.
I want to sip tea and read in the library.
I want to take long walks and take pictures in the Arb with Christy.
I want to waste an hour wandering through WalMart just because it's there.
I want to bake cookies in the Whitley kitchen with Natalie.
I want to laugh with good friends in cozy dorm rooms.
I want to Instant Message with my roommate, as she sits at her desk, five feet from my own.
I want to sing the songs we sing at InterVarsity.
I want to nap in the middle of the day because I was up until 3 in the morning.
I want to *almost* set the fire alarm off using the Koon microwave to make popcorn.
I want to complain daily about the lack of mail I receive.
I want to conveniently forget the fact that there is no one to whom I send it regularly.
I want to pore over J.Crew catalogs with other monetarily-deficient Koonies.
I want to make late-night BK runs.
I want to regret spending money on late-night BK runs.
I want to cut across the KKG lawn.
I want to talk with the men and women at the nursing home and not just hear them -- but really listen.
I want to stand with my tray and look for a table of familiar and friendly faces.
I want to listen to Sarah McLachlan, Savage Garden, Michelle Branch, Jars of Clay, Evanescence, New Found Glory, David Crowder Band, Enya, Goo Goo Dolls, Josh Groban, and all the other ridiculously random cds in my collection.
I want to stay up until all hours with "writers' block" until every last word is written.
I want to dance in the rain with my shoes off.
I want to come perilously close to being late for class.
I want to paint my toe nails and read Alexander Pope at the same time.
I want to throw an all-night study session, cram instead of sleep, and ace an exam because of it.
I want to reach out to new friends while still holding old ones dear.
I want to post a blog from my dorm room.
I want to watch/assist friends in sneaking tea bags out of the dining hall. Sugar packets, too.
I want to sit on the benches around the quad and pretend to do homework.
I want to walk to the baseball fields at night and look up at the stars.
I want to discuss (and occasionally analyze) current events at the end of the day.
I want to drink coffee at The Gathering.
I want to dance on the stage in Markel with no one there and all but one light out.
I want to write -- sometimes for hours -- in my journal.
I want to brush my teeth, shower, study, and sleep with dear friends just steps away.

I'm ready to get back on campus.
I just know God's got some big plans for this year, and I'm ready to face new people, new emotions, and new situations by His grace.

May this year be filled with faith, obedience, and contentment.

August 01, 2004
I'd like to take this opportunity to wish my beloved roommate a very happy 21st birthday... Happy Birthday, Kristin!

Miss you, doll. Talk to you soon.
*love, hugs, and sprinkles*

fancy shmancy...
 
This is kinda cool. That I can make all these spiffy embellishments, I mean. Who needs a plain old boring blog when you can blog in style?
 
Or at least in color.
 
Whatever. I guess I'm not that impressed. And I'm certainly not compelled to apply a new font and/or color to every paragraph I type. That would just be a pain. In short, I suppose my blog will remain virtually the same, despite all the added options. Pity.
 
Ok, so... life. The abridged version.
 
*A tan would be nice. Really nice.
 
*Work is good. Days off are better. Paychecks are best.
 
*King Arthur, to be honest, was disappointing. The frozen-lake battle scene was impressive, but not worth the price of admission. However, if one happens to be of the male variety, the movie does boast incentives (blood, fire, weapons, body paint, and Keira Knightley) that might make a new hole in one's wallet a bit more bearable.
 
*Szechuan Empire (new Chinese place nearby) is super yummy. And I've discovered that although Hot and Sour Soup holds no appeal for me whatsoever, I'm a big fan of Won-Ton Soup.
 
*My friend's mother is recovering beautifully from surgery -- praise God.
 
*Re-connecting mid-summer with Hillsdale voices is a lovely thing... I only wish that more of my dear friends were reachable.
 
Well, there's more to say but no time to say it.
For now... Banana Boat, I will not give in to the temptation of the bottle. I spurn your fake-tan-orangey-ness.
HA.
 

I'm not really in a very good mood, and I'm not sure I feel like doing the blogging thing.

Spider-man 2 is sweet, though.
And Stratford was super-mondo fun.

Hmmmph. Now I'm sure.

Nope, I definitely don't want to blog now.

My twenty-two year old cousin, Drew, has been in Iraq since January. He wasn't here to celebrate his wife's birthday with her. He was overseas when Clayton, their first child, had his fourth birthday party. He was away when Carter, their other little boy, turned one and had his first piece of birthday cake. And, as it is with so many daddys in the armed forces, his family assured him of their love and appreciation by phone on Father's Day.

But Drew, who just got word last week that he did receive a scholarship from the army and will be going into the fall semester at Western as a sophomore, is on his way home.

From Iraq to Germany to Maine, Drew is finally back in the States. Soon he'll be in Fort Hood, Texas, where his wife is waiting expectantly for him. And by this time next week, God-willing, he'll be back here in Michigan surrounded by his loving wife, his precious children, and the rest of his absolutely thrilled family.

Praise our glorious King for His matchless mercy and unfailing provision!

He holds victory in store for the upright, he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones ~Proverbs 2:7-8

Interestingly Enough...

*Ownership and maintenence of a bonzai tree is NOT all it's cracked up to be... AKA, I have a feeling that were it physically capable of doing so, mine would have legally emancipated itself from me and walked out on this sub-par botanical enthusiast weeks ago. I've forced the poor thing to go thirsty (unintentionally) numerous times, and at this point I'm forced to admit that perhaps foliage just isn't my forte. Shame.

*I read today in our store's little informative update-type newsletter that one of our sales associates somewhere in Tennessee recentely fixed up an order for a Betty Reese Witherspoon, mother of actress Reese, who asked her mom to tell our store and all its employees how much both women love shopping at our store in Nashville. Although I've been employed there for less than a month, I'm flattered and almost giddy over the idea of it in quite a superficial, idolotrous way. And I wonder if that counts as some sort of six degrees of seperation or something. Just kidding.

*I'm trying to decide at what point I must give up my pursuit of the beautiful summer suntan I've desired and, instead, resign myself to the idea of a more Nicole Kidman-inspired look. (Read: It's cold here, there's no sun, my ghostly, almost-translucent skin is beginning to testify to my Irish/Polish heritage while staunchly denying any Greek descent, and I'm losing any and all hope of improving the shade of my melanin-impaired skin.) Input requested. Encouragement appreciated.

Later, kids.

Goodness.
Dear faithful readers: I am truly sorry for allowing my extreme shallow enjoyment of a game like basketball to get in the way of my normal blogging patterns. Don't be fooled, I DO realize it's just a game, thank you. But it's a nice diversion from the stressful reality of two new jobs, recurring migraines, having to finish a class left "incomplete" from last year, impaired eyesight, and family issues, as I'm sure most of you can appreciate to some degree or another.
Anyway...
Apparently I've been devoting too much effort to expressing my Pistons-inspired enthusiasm. Now, at the request of a couple of dear friends, I'll proceed in the coming posts to enlighten you all as to how I'm "really" doing. No more Lakers trash talk, no more NBA chatter, no more scoring predictions, no more Finals fever, and no more Pistons fanatacism.
I promise.

So, as for me, I'm well. Holding up, anyway. I still have not been able to schedule an appointment with my eye doctor to get a new lens prescription for my glasses, so the sight out of my right eye remains impaired. Unfortunately, I won't be able to be evaluated until my pupil can completely constrict, but the doctor says it always takes longer for light colored eyes to recover from being kept dilated. This is frustrating because it is still hard to go out in sunlight for too long and I've been getting headaches virtually daily because of working and just normal functioning with bad vision. Now that I've spent an entire paragraph complaining, I think I'll stop and move on to something else. HA.
*I bet you're glad I stopped blogging about the Pistons for THIS*

A few random facts I've discovered to be true in the past few days:

*It is uber disappointing to call one of your best friends to wish her a happy birthday only to discover that you were off by three days... ESPECIALLY when you were also responsible for giving the incorrect information to at least two of her other girlfriends. Thank the Lord for creating a characteristic like graciousness.

*When working in retail and putting on a large semi-annual sale, there is absolutely no point in trying to promptly re-stock merchendise everytime it seems to dwindle, clearing out fitting rooms, neatly folding clothing, or avoiding a mess behind the counter. Simply paste on a friendly, if somewhat plastic, smile, ignore the burning blisters rubbing into your stylish black sandals, keep the store's image pristine by folding the top two shirts of each pile, dismiss the deplorable conditions of the fitting rooms, smooth back your hair, wipe the sweat from your brow, take a deep breath, and ask in your most sugary-sweet -- I mean, polite -- voice, "would you like your receipt with you, or in the bag?"

*Mosquitoes are evil things, and although temporary relief may be found in the form of Benadryl spray, that in no way redeems the agony and suffering inflicted by those tiny, bloodthirsty creatures. And welts really are so unsightly.

*There are a few scents at Bath & Body Works that I absolutely cannot abide. I really don't know if it's wrong to say, since I work there and all, but it is in my own personal (and perhaps, professional) opinion, that anything and everything "Cucumber Melon" positively smells like sin. "Warm Vanilla Sugar" is detestable as well.

*Sleep is a good thing... a good thing I need a bit more of right about now.

Hope that satisfied any readers who may have felt deprived over the past few posts. Never fear, I shall return soon bearing more insight and Katie-speak, but for now, my pillow impresses me as my most appealing option. Off I go. G'night all.

Detroit Pistons, 2004 NBA Champions

R.E.S.P.E.C.T

NBA Finals Wrap-Up
Game 1: Detroit
Game 2: Los Angeles
Game 3: Detroit
Game 4: Detroit
Game 5: Detroit
(G5 Final Score, DP:100, LAL:87)

The team whose motto is "Goin' to Work" had put in a little overtime, and the once-mighty Lakers hadn't just been defeated, they had been stomped and crushed like Italian grapes. The Pistons didn't just beat L.A., they reduced it to a single letter: "L," as in loser.
...
Some will call this the biggest upset in the history of the NBA. How amazing is it? Well, remember, the series was preordained as the Lakers versus "the other guys." The Pistons were supposed to be mindful of their station. "Forget what happened before," pundits kept saying. "This game, you'll be put in your place."
...
They were. Their place is on the victory stand.
...
So how will history remember these Finals? Mostly for their shock value. Here's how shockingly good the Pistons were. They beat the Lakers in five, and the Lakers had home-court advantage. Remember, these were the same Lakers who knocked off San Antonio, the defending champion, by winning four straight, then knocked off Minnesota, the West's top seed. Obviously, they must have been doing something right. But suddenly, in this series, as the losses mounted, it wasn't about the Pistons' success, it was about the Lakers' loosening their screws. This Finals series, it seemed, would only be over when the Lakers said it was. Even before Tuesday's head-chopping -- facing a 3-1 deficit that no team had ever come back from in the Finals -- the purple-and-gold superstars acted as if fate had promised them a championship.
"I'm telling you right now, we'll win Tuesday," Kobe Bryant said.
Too bad.
"We have every intention of winning this game," Phil Jackson said.
So sad.
"Got to win," Shaquille O'Neal said.
Buh-bye.
~Mitch Albom, Detroit Free Press, 16 June 2004

They were square pegs uncomfortably squeezed into circular confinements. And within the ground rules of perception, a failure to conform easily morphs into an inability to succeed.
Chauncey Billups couldn't lead.
Richard Hamilton couldn't learn.
Rasheed Wallace couldn't leave well enough alone.
And Ben Wallace just couldn't... period.
Each eventually found the right fit in a franchise that eschewed conventionality. And as the long years of frustration dwindled into precious minutes of anticipation Tuesday, each assumed a look of stunned amazement as the weight of their actions finally registered.
...
Detroit Pistons -- 2004 NBA World Champions.
Raise your lunch pails in salute.
~Drew Sharp, Detroit Free Press, 16 June 2004

The Pistons -- America's Team, the People's Champions -- did it the right way. They never stopped working and won it on their home turf. There's only one reason to go back to L.A. now: Disneyland!
~Two Cents, Detroit Free Press, 16 June 2004

Eleven months after assembling what was supposed to be the greatest team in NBA history, within a week of their professed destiny, the Lakers fell dramatically apart.
Piece by Hollywood piece. Bit by selfish bit. Their ingrained sense of entitlement dismanteled by a more powerful sense of teamwork.
As if sent down by the sports gods to deliver a message, the Pistons crawled out from the shadows of hard work, away from the anonymity of defense, and into a spotlight that showed the Lakers everything they used to be.
A team that shares the ball. A team that shares the floor burns. A team that shares the glory.
An NBA champion.
~Bill Plaschke, L.A. Times

The Laker regime ended like Czechoslovakia's -- without a shot. They lost with little grace and with minimal class, 100-87 to the Pistons.
~Mark Whicker, Orange County Register

"What about people who say you can't win without a high-priced superstar?" someone asked Dumars in the jammed Detroit locker room.
"I guess they're gonna have to find something else to say now," he beamed.
...
Here is their story: one hyperactive shooting guard, one proud but ignored point guard, one quietly determined small forward, one passionate, hot-tempered power forward, and one hard-jawed, oak tree of a center backed by one unflappable immigrant big man, two boyishly energetic reserve guards, one nasty, muscled backup forward, one senior citizen backup center, several other role players, and a coach who has called a lot of NBA places his "last stop," but only here could actually say that from a mountain-top.
...
We in the Motor City are more accustomed to people trying to beat us, not join us. So this is new....But for one night, anyhow, the team from Detroit was the team from everywhere, the public school kids beating the preppy private school kids, the beer league softball team beating the stiffly uniformed semi-pro squad, the local bowler outrolling the visiting pro, the duffer playing a winning round against the club champion.
"I don't really want to be America's Team," Hunter said.... "Forget about being America's Team. I want to be Detroit's team."
~Mitch Albom, Detroit Free Press, 17 June 2004

"Teams beat individuals, and we picked the wrong time to be individuals." ~Rick Fox, L.A. Lakers

"Me and Detroit, coming to this city, me and Detroit, we just started rooting for each other." ~Ben Wallace, Detroit Pistons

So...
Motown is officially 'Frotown. Hockeytown, at least for the summer, has become Hooptown. The Lakers were L.A.'d off. And the Pistons, our blue-collar champs, made "goin' to work" look easy. Guts and grit over glitz and glamour. Motown over Tinseltown. ANYTIME.
The NBA Finals are over, but here in Detroit... the party has only just begun.
YEAH, PISTONS!

Motown's own Aretha Franklin sang the National Anthem, Karl Malone didn't even wear his warm ups, the "Diesel" ran out of fuel, the Pistons D-stroyed any glimmer of hope Los Angeles had of turning this series around, Chauncey Billups was announced playoff MVP, and to thunderous applause which erupted all across metro Detroit and inside the Palace, the Detroit Pistons became the 2004 NBA Champions. Sweet.

Ya know, it took a while to get used to yelling "WE WANT LARRY" instead of "WE WANT STANLEY" ... but I *think* I'm catching on.

Details, analysis, quotes, and more to come... but for now... I'm off to bed. I've got to work in the morning.
Have a nice flight home, Lakers... and you can take Jack with you.
WAY TO GO, PISTONS!

7:00 PM on Tuesday, June 15th...

KIDS WHOOPING IN THE STREET. PHONES RINGING OFF THE HOOK, "ARE YOU WATCHING THE GAME?" RED AND BLUE AND WHITE BANNERS STRUNG. 'FROS UNLEASHED. SOUNDS OF MOTOWN BLARING. LUNGS BURNING. HEARTBEATS RACING. HANDS WRINGING. MUSCLES TENSE. SHEESH...

AND THAT'S JUST LIVONIA.

Two hours and counting before the Detroit Pistons and the Los Angeles Lakers face off in Game 5 of the NBA Finals at the Palace of Auburn Hills. The Pistons could win it tonight. If they do, they'll be the first team ever to win all three middle games of a finals series. If they win this series -- whether it happens tonight or in Game 7 -- their coach, Larry Brown, will become the first coach to obtain both an NBA and an NCAA championship. On the other hand, if the Lakers come back tonight and then sweep the rest of the series (as they must to win), they will become the first team ever to overcome a deficit of this kind -- down, three games to one -- to win an NBA title. So history will be made. Which team, coach, players, and, inevitabley, city will claim this victory... achieve this glory... command this respect... earn this honor... and write their names in the history books remains to be seen.

No matter what happens tonight, this is gonna be good, folks...
NBA Finals, Game 5
Detroit Pistons vs. Los Angeles Lakers
TONIGHT, 9:00pm, @ the Palace.
GET YOUR TV, YOUR RADIO, YOUR TECHNOLOGICALLY-SUPERIOR-CELL-PHONE-ON-STEROIDS, OR JUST CALL ME FOR UPDATES... CUZ ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, YOU'LL WANT TO BE THERE. IT'S TIME FOR SOME D-TOWN B-BALL.
GO PISTONS!

T-MINUS 90 MINUTES...

NBA Finals Update
Game 4
Sunday, June 13th, 9:00pm @ the Palace

FINAL SCORE
Detroit Pistons: 88
LA Lakers: 80

Finals Recap, in case you're living in a cave with no access to any form of media coverage:
*Game 1: Detroit
*Game 2: Kobe...oops, I mean, Los Angeles
*Game 3: Detroit
*Game 4: Detroit

You know what they say when Darko gets in the game...

Hmmm...

So I now work at B&BW with the younger sister of an ATO back at the 'dale.
One of the older women working there has a son who participated in the same junior high advanced placement program as I did and then graduated from my high school's cross-town rival, all maybe three or four years ahead of me.
I also discovered that a girl who began working for B&BW during the last holiday season (and who has returned for this summer) is a girl that I played soccer with for countless seasons, starting when we were probably no more than eight years old!
A girl I work with at Tlbts* (*name adjusted a little to protect privacy... or something) had my uncle as her English teacher for a year in high school.
Another woman I work with at Tlbts has a niece whom I graduated from high school with in 2002.
Yet another co-worker of mine at Tlbts is the aunt of another fellow Hillsdale student -- one Melissa Leismer, to be exact! How's all that for coincidence?

ON A DIFFERENT NOTE... (with, say, an Anita Baker-type sound?)
My dear SoCal Brother... we brought our "A-game" to the Palace... but it looks as if ya'll left yours at home... pity.
Well, much as I'd love to stay and gloat about the D-struction of the Lakers last night (DP:88 to LAL:68, for all those who may have missed it), that wouldn't be nice... besides, the Pistons still have two more games to win before they can claim any titles, and we all know LA is totally capable of pushing this to Game 7. For now, I'll just pick up my fake 'fro and continue to support the Pistons in their quest for an NBA Championship! The (Bad) Boys are back in (D) Town, and for all intents and purposes... KOBE WHO?

Hooray for TWO jobs!
Hooray for working at Bath & Body Works with the sister of a fellow Hillsdalian!
Hooray for Tampa Bay beating Calgary for the Stanley Cup!
(small boo for Smarty Jones losing his Triple Crown bid in the Belmont)
Hooray for eyelashes more than half-grown back!
Hooray for a new Chinese place five minutes away!
Hooray for no more drilling in the street!

BIG HOORAY for the Detroit Pistons beating the Los Angeles Lakers on Sunday night in the first game of the Finals! (um, who needs Shaq Diesel, Malone, and Kobe when you can have 'Sheed, Rip, and Big Ben?)

Ok, so maybe we can't win it all (they're glitz, we're grit)... but LA fans didn't get their sweep, and that's good enough for me.

They learned, at least for a night... don't mess with the D, and... fear the 'Fro!
YEAH, PISTONS!

Motown vs. Tinseltown, LA's Staples Center, 9:00pm, tonight. BE THERE.

*My neighborhood has become an obstacle course, and I am developing a deep resentment for construction workers.

*The eyelashes on my right eye are so totally growing back, and I'm starting to look close to what you might call... normal. I would say, "it's about time," but I have this feeling like that wouldn't be such a good idea... AKA: God would decide I haven't learned my vanity lesson yet. So I'll hold that thought.

*Highly recommending Joseph Stowell's book, Perilous Pursuits, to anyone and everyone... it's a solid dose of conviction from cover to cover.

*Just got hired yesterday to work part-time at an upscale women's clothing store at the local mall, and I start training on Monday. Now I have an interview at another place in the same mall this afternoon to see if I can supplement the rest of my hours with them. Yay-ness!

*Last night I went with a friend to see Troy, and as much as Brad Pitt tends to own the screen (in my female opinion, at least), I must admit that another man stole the show (and my girlish heart) right away from my blond, arrogant, muscle-bound Achilles. Hector is my hero... and I think Eric Bana has now displaced (and misplaced, as he is not actually his character) my affections. For shame.

O for a thousand tongues to sing
My great Redeemer's praise,
The glories of my God and King,
The triumphs of His grace!

My gracious Master and my God,
Assist me to proclaim,
To spread through all the earth abroad
The honors of Thy name.

Jesus! The name that charms our fears,
That bids our sorrows cease,
'Tis music in the sinner's ears,
'Tis life and health and peace.

He breaks the power of cancelled sin,
He sets the prisoner free;
His blood can make the foulest clean,
His blood availed for me.

Hear Him, ye deaf; His praise, ye dumb,
Your loosened tongues employ;
Ye blind, behold your Savior come;
And leap, ye lame, for joy!


My tongue shall speak... praise all the day long ~Psalm 35:28

The random joys of summer abound...

Who knew that a hamburger at a trusty old bar in Dearborn and pleasant conversation with sweet and quirky relatives could do so much to lift the spirits?

There's nothing like helping a friend study for her Spanish exam to remind you just how much vocab you memorized for a day and never really learned. Tengo verguenza! But it did teach me how to say tanktop en espanol... playera. Now that's improvement.

All caffeine should definitely be consumed before 3:00pm to avoid utilizing embarassing outlets for the energy it so readily provides. Tim Horton's Iced Cappucinos are NOT an exception to this rule.

When singing "Cell Block Tango" from the Chicago soundtrack, one must always remember to bleep out unwanted and unnecessary foul language... especially when serenading family members unawares. HE HAD IT COMING!

My fetish for cooking/art/travel shows is really starting to worry me. I find that if I do not change the channel within forty-five seconds of that initial sighting, I'm hooked until at least the next commercial break... if not the end of the show. That's down from my old at-risk-margin of one minute. At this rate, I'll be viewing way too many Emeril cooking specials and learning far too much about underwater basketweaving for my own good.

The cat has lost weight. Not enough, of course, but I remain thankful for small miracles. Now I just need to learn her secret...

Discovering (and re-discovering, as the case may be) the theological wisdom, deep insight, and thoughtful musings of people like Elisabeth Elliot, A.W. Tozer, Joseph Stowell, and Cory Ten Boom is refreshing. Trumped perhaps only -- of course -- by the inspired Word of the Father, Himself. What a blessing to have the time and energy to give these wonderful books the attention, consideration (and the Bible, reverence) that they deserve.

I have not yet made good on my intention to get a tan this summer. This is partially due to my dilated pupil's intolerance of the sun's brightness and due in part also to the unseasonable chill that has left the Detroit metro area afternoon temperatures hovering somewhere around the 65 degree mark, despite optimistic weather forcasts to the contrary. *shock and dismay* But I am resolved. Tan I will be. Soon.

Pride overwhelms me and I cannot resist the temptation to brag that I did NOT give into the American Idol craze that has swept the nation. I found out via my morning newspaper that a young woman named Fantasia (isn't that a movie?) has most recently attained the idol-ness status. Obviously, I was overcome with interest and couldn't avoid the two-inch tall bold letters proclaiming her victory. Right.

Let's NOT consider the talent of bodhran-playing as part of my musical repetoire, k? Perhaps I shall give up. Or be really dramatic and burn it as I dance around, whooping and hollering. Maybe I'll even bust out the poodle socks, Irish dance dress, and tiara for the occassion. Or not.

Dinnertime. General Tsao's Chicken rocks my socks. Except I'm not wearing any... sooo, it rocks my flip flops...?

Later, kids!

Sounds...

My cat is purring; I think she'll be making other noises soon if I don't go fill up her bowl of Meow-Mix.
The drills and trucks and workers outside are noisily tearing apart sections of pavement throughout my neighborhood. Hello, construction season... goodbye, tranquil subdivision.
During the last half-hour segment that my TV was on, the piercing cries of a newborn resonated from TLC's A Baby Story. Why am I so intrigued and captivated by a show that simply outlines the nine-month process of pregnancy? Good heavens. I really should avoid it.
The phone upstairs in my dad's office is ringing, but as he is currently out meeting various clients and arranging appointments, it will continue ringing without effect until the caller decides to make use of the voice mail option.
A cute little chihuahua (who, truth be told, looks more like snakebait than a member of the canine family) across the street yips and yaps at the muscle-shirted construction workers desecrating the street in front of her house.
Although the Irish music blaring out of my stereo has a distinct and easily discernable beat, I bang and tap my drum randomly in my quest to conquer the talent of bodhran-playing. It is an elusive skill.
The phone again... it is my brother's friend, calling during passing time to find out if I'll be going to their baseball game this afternoon and if I can ask his mother to bring his black game socks. Are these boys really old enough to be in high school?
The drilling has stopped; someone is mowing the lawn down by Sylvio and Bianca's house, Chase and Gunner are running around outside next door, I can hear an ice cream truck's song tinkering through the neighborhood (this early?), and for the first time in what seems like days and days, there is no thunder booming, cracking, or even rolling in the distance. Lovely.

MEOWWWWWWW.

Yep, I definitely should have re-filled her Meow-Mix.

Post-Op Pondering, Final Cut

* If this is what it feels like to get punched in the face, I don't think I'll be getting in any fistfights in the future... yep, I'm saying goodbye to catfights, kids. Meow.

* Inhibitions about my post-surgical eye and dilated pupil were put on hold last night so I could go out with my friend... put on hold until she innocently said, "yeah, you kinda look stoned... or maybe like a closed-head injury victim!" Yep, back to hermit status.

* I miss my vicodin.

* Having stiches come out of your eye... yes, as in, your eyeball, is really weird. And it hurts and itches at the same time. I won't go into any more excruciating detail than necessary, but dude... I think I can safely say... EEEEEEWIE.

* I just learned that a mother of one of the kids on my brother's travel baseball team is going through chemotherapy treatments for breast cancer. She's lost all her hair. I no longer feel like my temporary lack of lashes on my right eye is anything more than a minor inconvenience, and although it is still a daily struggle with vanity, I am reminded that compared to the plights of countless others... this is nothing.

Cut. That's a wrap.

Perhaps it's just that I don't have the same amount of time to ponder things when I'm at school as I do here at home... I'm not really sure... but one thing I do know for sure is that within the past couple days I've been reminded what it's like to really serve someone out of love, not expecting anything in return. Granted, in at least one of the situations I was rewarded for my efforts in the end, but I had the chance -- for about three hours in one case -- to give of my time and talents without expecting any sort of compensation at all.

This is not an attempt to glorify myself in any way... truly, what really blows me away about this is not that I took these two or three opportunities in the past couple days, but the fact that they stood out to me. If these hours of real servanthood made this significant an impact on me... what does that say about me? What does that say about my everyday attitude about serving others and my typical patterns of Christian service? If I were really emulating the service-oriented attitude of Christ in my daily life, it seems unlikely that these experiences would have so affected me.

I am so thankful that the Lord uses people and situations in our lives to both remind and convict us. If He had not given me these opportunities and then opened my eyes to show me the shortcomings in my heart and my life, I never would have thought to look at these areas on my own. I know that I'll never be perfect... but I don't want to be the type of Christian who walks away from an opportunity to serve. I want the Lord to see me as a faithful, willing servant -- one He could trust with any mission, whether it's to help a friend with homework or take His gospel across the world to a hostile nation. I know this is a process... I'm not there yet, but my prayer is that God will continue to work in my life, teach me, reveal His will for my life, and lead my footsteps on the path He wants me to take to get there. My job is to trust Him. And hold on tight... this will be an incredible ride, as long as I can remember to stay in the passenger seat and let Him do the steering.

Post-Op Pondering, Take Two

I would just like to say that I truly believe it is impossible for one to appreciate the sheer multitude, length, and beauty of one's eyelashes until they have been cut off or in some other way removed. It is remarkable how significant an impact can stem from such a relatively tiny feature.

Praise our loving Father in heaven Who, knowing my vanity (and, I'm assuming, that of others) before I even had mortal form, decided that eyelashes would grow back in time.

Just a Little Post-Op Pondering

Some interesting things can happen when you're under the influence of such substances as demerol, vicodin, and tylenol with codeine. For example, you may be experiencing the effects of one (or more) of these drugs if you, for some reason...

* think you see a Siberian tiger basking lazily in the middle of a frequently-traveled, local intersection. (Heather, think Levan and Schoolcraft, here)

* truly believe that everything you see has a somewhat lime-greenish tint to it, and can't quite figure out why that might be. and I wasn't wearing goggles, either, folks.

* are utterly convinced that you MUST, by ANY MEANS NECESSARY, completely re-style and re-decorate your home to comply with each and every principle of feng-shui. no, really.

* find yourself wondering about the Amish and swimming, if they're allowed to swim in its traditionally accepted format, and what kind of tan lines Amish bathing suits would produce. it's not a bad question, actually.

* dream about yourself as an Arabian princess with your own personal turban, monkey, and waterboy, and see your United States Embassy Ambassador lover (gallantly portrayed by Kenneth Brannagh) running at you through a crowded fruit market with a sword, carrying a bushel of tropical fruits on his head. no joke.

True stories, all. Well, true delusions... or whatever.
Anyway, I'll have the play-by-play and more edge-of-your-seat excitement to share in the near future about the surgery and more of those fun details that I know you're *dying* to hear about my recovery... HAHAHA. Just kidding!

For now...

May I recommend eye surgery for *all* your hallucinogenic desires...?

I just finished my Sundahl paper and sent it in via email. This means I'm all done for the semester, until I go back and have to finish up my Incomplete for Brit Lit... but I have until the end of September for that. For now, I am most definitely done. Beautiful.

I hope you are enjoying the nice weather and all the fun that comes with being done with exams for the year. Praise the Lord that He has brought us faithfully through yet another semester... He is good!

Give thanks with a grateful heart
Give thanks to the Holy One
Give thanks because He's given Jesus Christ, His Son

And now let the weak say, "I am strong"
Let the poor say "I am rich"
Because of what the Lord has done for us

And now let the weak say "I am strong"
Let the poor say "I am rich"
Because of what the Lord has done for us

Give thanks, give thanks
Give thanks, give thanks

I really like Michigan Black Cherry Ice Cream.
Headaches, on the other hand, are not very fun.

Earlier today, my adorable neighbor, Nancy, brought me a bonzai tree in a pot... it's so cute! I haven't named it yet, but I'm already feeling attached *wink* It is rather cute with its little stones and white flowers. Kristin, if I can keep it alive until August, we'll have a new botanical addition to Koon #7!

(RIP Richard Simmons the Clown Chia Head 08/03-11/03)

On that sad note... just a few last words to leave you with:
*Congratulations on finishing your finals, everyone -- you can relax now!
*I'm praying for safe travels back home for all of you
*Have a wonderful time at IV Chapter camp, to all who are going!
*Blessings on all of you for relaxing and fulfilling summers!
*Please keep in touch, dear friends. I love you all.

ps. For those of you have asked, my surgery will be on Thursday (May 6th) around 7:30/8:00 AM. I'll be going in for prep around 5:00, and once it starts it shouldn't take longer than 2 hours. Thank you all SO MUCH for your thoughts and prayers -- you have *no idea* how much the Lord has blessed me through your love and kindness. I am nervous, but He has made this infinitely less daunting by providing friends like you to uplift and encourage me.
Love in Christ, Katie

Third day at home... and already, the separation anxiety. What is this?

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I'm home and hardly anyone else is. I feel so very out of place... and I miss the 'dale.

I miss my beautiful roommate, Kristin. I miss all of my friends for their various (and very individual) characteristics that make them so wonderful and precious to me... I miss getting up in the morning and walking out my bedroom door and seeing three friends before I've even brushed my teeth... now all I see is my cat. And she's nice, don't get me wrong. But she curls up on my bed at night and makes it hard for me to sleep comfortabley. None of my friends do that.

As much as I'd like to stay and complain more about life at home (just kidding), I gotta jet. Heather and I are going out to lunch (to celebrate the almost-done-ness of her finals), I'm picking up some job applications at the mall, and I've got another eye appointment. Later, kids!

Yay! I just talked to my roomie! Ok, this day just got 10 brownie points!