Sitting down at my desk this evening for the first time since mid-morning, I must admit I was counting on a calm 15-minute repreive from the hectic pace of this crazy day before I would have to pick up once again and head to the SAI house for a meeting. But that wasn't meant to be, for as I engaged in civilized conversation over IM and contemplated the feasibility of receiving any sort of refreshment from an eleven minute nap, a shrill shriek resonated throughout the dorm.
Koon is not a large dorm. Shrieks resonate.
As if that wasn't loud enough, the fire alarm promptly began blaring just outside my door.
So, being the considerate dorm resident I am, I peeked outside my door to see if there was anything gawk-worthy going on in the lobby.
The poor soul responsible for the alarm scampered, shrieking, down the hall to open the microwave door. Smoke billowed out of the microwave. I half expected tongues of flame to burst out as well. The stench was overpowering. Burned popcorn has never smelled so horrendous. Orville Redenbacher himself would have disowned this bag. It was foul.
So the bag was quickly deposited outside the dorm, the fire department promptly alerted of the incident, the doors and windows flung open wide, and once the alarm ceased its obnoxious ringing, Koon returned to its regularly scheduled program.
Except that the dorm smelled awful.
And it still does.
But that's ok, because I'm going to bed.
I really like John Mayer's song "Daughters." Yep.
That's random. Oh well.
Goodnight!
Friday, February 25, 2005
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
I am blogging now.
I should be writing a paper, but I am blogging.
This perplexes me.
The ease with which my fingers rapidly glide over the keyboard when the goal is a blog post also amazes me.
And yet somehow, as soon as my intentions are good and diligence reigns (read: I try to write my paper), those same fingers fail me.
Synaptic gaps become chasms that neurotransmitters dare not venture to cross.
I stare blankly at the screen and wonder if it is possible to be born with a perpetual, debilitating form of writers' block. And in what kind of world would a person like that be an English major?
Oh well.
I suppose I'll think about that tomorrow. Along with the other eightytrillionfivethousandhundredmillion things going tomorrow. And Thursday.
And yet somehow, I have a feeling I'll be blogging again soon.
** Major Update: Cate Larsen has once again become a part of the blogging community! This pleases me!**
I should be writing a paper, but I am blogging.
This perplexes me.
The ease with which my fingers rapidly glide over the keyboard when the goal is a blog post also amazes me.
And yet somehow, as soon as my intentions are good and diligence reigns (read: I try to write my paper), those same fingers fail me.
Synaptic gaps become chasms that neurotransmitters dare not venture to cross.
I stare blankly at the screen and wonder if it is possible to be born with a perpetual, debilitating form of writers' block. And in what kind of world would a person like that be an English major?
Oh well.
I suppose I'll think about that tomorrow. Along with the other eightytrillionfivethousandhundredmillion things going tomorrow. And Thursday.
And yet somehow, I have a feeling I'll be blogging again soon.
** Major Update: Cate Larsen has once again become a part of the blogging community! This pleases me!**
Saturday, February 19, 2005
I'm sure this will be no big deal to those of you who grew up in rural areas, toddling around in blaze orange diapers and observing hunting season before you were even potty trained. Perhaps it will even surprise those of you who know that I grew up just a short jaunt outside of Detroit (in one of the safest cities in the nation, however, I might add).
But tonight I held, aimed, and shot a (pretend) gun for the first time EVER.
And it totally rocked my face off.
As in, I want to do it again.
And again, after that.
But not right now, because I'm tired and I have to go to bed.
And I'm going home in the morning.
So... that's all.
Good.night.
But tonight I held, aimed, and shot a (pretend) gun for the first time EVER.
And it totally rocked my face off.
As in, I want to do it again.
And again, after that.
But not right now, because I'm tired and I have to go to bed.
And I'm going home in the morning.
So... that's all.
Good.night.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Inspired by the refreshing honesty of Tami's latest post, I have decided to make the most recent "Klutzy Katie Moment" a permanent part of cyberspace. Not that I was hiding it before, exactly. In fact, I went around telling quite a few people, just to make sure I wasn't taking myself too seriously.
Anyway, it's nothing too out of the ordinary, I suppose, but Thursday afternoon I was leaving Koon after stopping back to my room after choir before heading up to dinner. As I bounded down the two large steps, I didn't think twice about the surface beneath my feet. I was far too preoccupied with making sure I had my ID card, listening to Adrienne and Dean disdainfully criticize the Thursday night Saga fare, and using one gloved hand to push a few strands of hair behind my ear... and then I hit the sidewalk.
Literally.
Like, plop. Down went Katie.
And I definitely sat there for a second, processing.
Was I actually sitting there on the cold pavement?
Was there actually coldness seeping into my socks and gloves?
Was that actually my butt becoming sore?
Or just my pride?
And then I started to laugh.
Because it was funny.
And it felt good.
And yes, Dean was a gentleman and helped me up. As he laughed.
So the three of us had a good laugh.
So, giggling, I got up and continued on my way up to dinner, sharing my tale with friends along the way. And as I wiped the snow off of my pants and coat, I realized how important moments like this really are in life. They don't seem like it, but they are. Because they are moments in which the Lord offers us a precious choice. We can choose to take ourselves too seriously and thus resent the blows to our pride, or we can embrace them as God's subtle (or not so subtle) reminders to seek humility and a constant sense of dependence on Him.
He got my attention on Thursday.
I pray it won't be the last time.
I'm fairly certain it won't be.
Anyway, it's nothing too out of the ordinary, I suppose, but Thursday afternoon I was leaving Koon after stopping back to my room after choir before heading up to dinner. As I bounded down the two large steps, I didn't think twice about the surface beneath my feet. I was far too preoccupied with making sure I had my ID card, listening to Adrienne and Dean disdainfully criticize the Thursday night Saga fare, and using one gloved hand to push a few strands of hair behind my ear... and then I hit the sidewalk.
Literally.
Like, plop. Down went Katie.
And I definitely sat there for a second, processing.
Was I actually sitting there on the cold pavement?
Was there actually coldness seeping into my socks and gloves?
Was that actually my butt becoming sore?
Or just my pride?
And then I started to laugh.
Because it was funny.
And it felt good.
And yes, Dean was a gentleman and helped me up. As he laughed.
So the three of us had a good laugh.
So, giggling, I got up and continued on my way up to dinner, sharing my tale with friends along the way. And as I wiped the snow off of my pants and coat, I realized how important moments like this really are in life. They don't seem like it, but they are. Because they are moments in which the Lord offers us a precious choice. We can choose to take ourselves too seriously and thus resent the blows to our pride, or we can embrace them as God's subtle (or not so subtle) reminders to seek humility and a constant sense of dependence on Him.
He got my attention on Thursday.
I pray it won't be the last time.
I'm fairly certain it won't be.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
I had a lovely weekend.
Full of refreshing conversations, baking, Oakley, girl time, studying with new-ish friends, a midnight Wal-mart run, Irish dancing, more Oakley, *goosebump-inducing piano music,* a Koon" Emma" girly-movie night (a cup of tea and Mr. Knightly... :: sigh ::), sledding, a snowball fight, a birthday celebration, a good talk with Mom, more Irish dancing, a little SuperBowl, Catacombs, and Dante before bed.
Yes, my weekend was simply delightful.
And yours?
Oh, dear ones, I must share this as well.
The Lord is doing a beautiful thing in my life right now, something that's giving me a lot of joy. And I'd like to tell you about it.
He's letting me dance for Him.
I would be remiss if I did not tell you how dancing has been a part of my life to this point.
I started Irish dancing when I was 13 years old -- very late in the dancing world. Like, ancient. Anyway, I was blessed to advance very quickly, and was soon moving up into higher level dance classes and competing regularly during the summers. But as I basked in the limelight and hoarded my medals, I quickly forgot that these were not really my victories, and I certainly wasn't remembering Who should have been getting the glory.
The Lord tried to remind me by grounding me with a stress fracture my sophomore year of high school, but after I recovered from that, I was back in action... and it was all about me. I was practicing non-stop, I was all set to compete at my first regional Oireachtas for a chance to qualify for Nationals, my parents had just paid for a new dress for the competition... my dad was even installing a stage in our basement for me to practice on. Then, the night before Mom and I would leave to go to London, Ontario so I could compete in the last competition before the Regional -- Dad had just finished putting up the stage -- I was going over my steps "just one more time." That's when it happened.
God had had enough. He was tired of taking second place to my dancing.
So He took it away with a botched jump. As soon as I'd landed, I knew the foot was broken. So were all my hopes for dancing.
There was no competition in London that weekend. There was no Regional Oireachtas. There were no Nationals. There were no more feisanna after that. When I did go, I watched from the sidelines. Sometimes I cried and had to leave. I only went to a few dance classes after that.
My foot healed, but my heart didn't.
And even though God had taken me off my feet to bring me to my knees, I still wouldn't turn my tear-stained face to look at Him. I blamed Him and resented Him for taking away the one thing that had been bringing insurmountable joy to my life. Dancing was my passion, and I hated Him for taking it from me.
My parents saw me becoming removed and depressed, so I got put on medications. I talked to counselors. I saw pastors. They recommended that I see it as a coincidence and that I try to ease my way back into dancing. But I still wouldn't go back because I was "too behind" and I'd "never catch up." And I knew in my heart why this had happened -- and it wasn't by chance. I had left God no other option. So denial and bitterness became parts of my daily wardrobe, and as much as I desired the comfort and peace I knew God wanted to offer me, I couldn't bring myself to turn back to the One Who had allowed me to hit bottom.
Somehow, at last, I turned. My stubborn, broken heart turned back to the Cross and embraced the warm welcome that had been waiting for me all along. That same stern Father Who demanded that I should have no other gods before Him lovingly wrapped me in His arms while I finally mourned. I wept over my dancing like I would have mourned a beloved family-member. And He was my Comforter, reminding me that it truly was His infinite mercy that took Irish dancing away if only to bring me back to His fold.
And that's how I thought the story would end, friends.
Pride is a detestable thing, and I knew that I could not risk it coming between myself and my Lord again. I held out on Him and it is by His grace alone that He found me worth beckoning back. My heart has only one throne, and Christ will sit on it alone.
But my heart has never stopped aching for dance. My heart pounds when I hear the beat of hardshoe dancing and it leaps at the sound of a jig or a reel. As much as I've tried to suppress and deny it, my love for dancing just can't be shut away. And I am coming to realize that through this refining experience, the Lord has changed -- strengthened -- my heart so that I no longer have to see dancing as an all-or-nothing option. I tend to forget it, but just as He took it away, it was also the Lord Who brought the joy of Irish dancing into my life in the first place, and just because He will not let it be my idol does not mean He will not let it be my passion. This perplexes and excites me.
The great Provider is providing opportunities, and in faith, I am responding. I've started teaching a small class of children the basics of Irish dancing, and although I have no formal qualifications for teaching, they don't mind in the least, and I am finding myself just as blessed by the whole situation. There are no medals or stages or fancy dresses or judges or bright lights. Only bright eyes and eager faces. Let that be enough.
And so, my friends, for the first time in far too long, I am dancing for Jesus.
It pleases me. It pleases Him.
It pleases me because it pleases Him.
You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever ~Psalm 30:11-12
Full of refreshing conversations, baking, Oakley, girl time, studying with new-ish friends, a midnight Wal-mart run, Irish dancing, more Oakley, *goosebump-inducing piano music,* a Koon" Emma" girly-movie night (a cup of tea and Mr. Knightly... :: sigh ::), sledding, a snowball fight, a birthday celebration, a good talk with Mom, more Irish dancing, a little SuperBowl, Catacombs, and Dante before bed.
Yes, my weekend was simply delightful.
And yours?
Oh, dear ones, I must share this as well.
The Lord is doing a beautiful thing in my life right now, something that's giving me a lot of joy. And I'd like to tell you about it.
He's letting me dance for Him.
I would be remiss if I did not tell you how dancing has been a part of my life to this point.
I started Irish dancing when I was 13 years old -- very late in the dancing world. Like, ancient. Anyway, I was blessed to advance very quickly, and was soon moving up into higher level dance classes and competing regularly during the summers. But as I basked in the limelight and hoarded my medals, I quickly forgot that these were not really my victories, and I certainly wasn't remembering Who should have been getting the glory.
The Lord tried to remind me by grounding me with a stress fracture my sophomore year of high school, but after I recovered from that, I was back in action... and it was all about me. I was practicing non-stop, I was all set to compete at my first regional Oireachtas for a chance to qualify for Nationals, my parents had just paid for a new dress for the competition... my dad was even installing a stage in our basement for me to practice on. Then, the night before Mom and I would leave to go to London, Ontario so I could compete in the last competition before the Regional -- Dad had just finished putting up the stage -- I was going over my steps "just one more time." That's when it happened.
God had had enough. He was tired of taking second place to my dancing.
So He took it away with a botched jump. As soon as I'd landed, I knew the foot was broken. So were all my hopes for dancing.
There was no competition in London that weekend. There was no Regional Oireachtas. There were no Nationals. There were no more feisanna after that. When I did go, I watched from the sidelines. Sometimes I cried and had to leave. I only went to a few dance classes after that.
My foot healed, but my heart didn't.
And even though God had taken me off my feet to bring me to my knees, I still wouldn't turn my tear-stained face to look at Him. I blamed Him and resented Him for taking away the one thing that had been bringing insurmountable joy to my life. Dancing was my passion, and I hated Him for taking it from me.
My parents saw me becoming removed and depressed, so I got put on medications. I talked to counselors. I saw pastors. They recommended that I see it as a coincidence and that I try to ease my way back into dancing. But I still wouldn't go back because I was "too behind" and I'd "never catch up." And I knew in my heart why this had happened -- and it wasn't by chance. I had left God no other option. So denial and bitterness became parts of my daily wardrobe, and as much as I desired the comfort and peace I knew God wanted to offer me, I couldn't bring myself to turn back to the One Who had allowed me to hit bottom.
Somehow, at last, I turned. My stubborn, broken heart turned back to the Cross and embraced the warm welcome that had been waiting for me all along. That same stern Father Who demanded that I should have no other gods before Him lovingly wrapped me in His arms while I finally mourned. I wept over my dancing like I would have mourned a beloved family-member. And He was my Comforter, reminding me that it truly was His infinite mercy that took Irish dancing away if only to bring me back to His fold.
And that's how I thought the story would end, friends.
Pride is a detestable thing, and I knew that I could not risk it coming between myself and my Lord again. I held out on Him and it is by His grace alone that He found me worth beckoning back. My heart has only one throne, and Christ will sit on it alone.
But my heart has never stopped aching for dance. My heart pounds when I hear the beat of hardshoe dancing and it leaps at the sound of a jig or a reel. As much as I've tried to suppress and deny it, my love for dancing just can't be shut away. And I am coming to realize that through this refining experience, the Lord has changed -- strengthened -- my heart so that I no longer have to see dancing as an all-or-nothing option. I tend to forget it, but just as He took it away, it was also the Lord Who brought the joy of Irish dancing into my life in the first place, and just because He will not let it be my idol does not mean He will not let it be my passion. This perplexes and excites me.
The great Provider is providing opportunities, and in faith, I am responding. I've started teaching a small class of children the basics of Irish dancing, and although I have no formal qualifications for teaching, they don't mind in the least, and I am finding myself just as blessed by the whole situation. There are no medals or stages or fancy dresses or judges or bright lights. Only bright eyes and eager faces. Let that be enough.
And so, my friends, for the first time in far too long, I am dancing for Jesus.
It pleases me. It pleases Him.
It pleases me because it pleases Him.
You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever ~Psalm 30:11-12
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Katie is in List-Mode tonight. So.
Things That Are Making Me Happy Lately:
* My fish stayed alive over Christmas Break
* InterVarsity and Catacombs -- I missed them more than I realized
* Joy Hendricks will be coming back to Hillsdale next semester!
* Meeting some wonderful people at MAC last weekend
* Sledding
* Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream. And Oakley.
* Equal Temperment
* The red coat. Who knew one little coat could get so much attention?
* Breakfast Bible study
* Learning how to do some Scottish dancing with the Highland Dancers
Yeah. Those things. And others, too.
But I can't think of them all right now. And, as usual, I'm doing this when I should be engaging in some sort of academic pursuit.
Whoa. Long time, no blog.
Well, if you're still checking in... good deal.
If not... I don't blame you.
G'night, kids.
Things That Are Making Me Happy Lately:
* My fish stayed alive over Christmas Break
* InterVarsity and Catacombs -- I missed them more than I realized
* Joy Hendricks will be coming back to Hillsdale next semester!
* Meeting some wonderful people at MAC last weekend
* Sledding
* Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream. And Oakley.
* Equal Temperment
* The red coat. Who knew one little coat could get so much attention?
* Breakfast Bible study
* Learning how to do some Scottish dancing with the Highland Dancers
Yeah. Those things. And others, too.
But I can't think of them all right now. And, as usual, I'm doing this when I should be engaging in some sort of academic pursuit.
Whoa. Long time, no blog.
Well, if you're still checking in... good deal.
If not... I don't blame you.
G'night, kids.
Saturday, December 18, 2004
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?
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?
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Monday, December 13, 2004
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!
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!
Friday, December 10, 2004
Thursday, December 09, 2004
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?"
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?"
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
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.
*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.
Monday, November 29, 2004
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.
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.
Sunday, November 21, 2004
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.
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.
Saturday, November 20, 2004
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?
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?
Saturday, November 06, 2004
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.
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.
Saturday, October 23, 2004
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.
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.
Monday, October 18, 2004
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!
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!