Spring Break Headlines
(Hillsdale AP, in association with Sioux City AP)
Women Drive Twelve Hours on Caffeine and Laughter
"Flippin Idiot" Denies Use of His Salary to Fix "Sewer City"
Giant Cricket Hybrid Attacks Iowan Family
Purchase of Squaw Water Results in Questionable Photo Shoot
Desperate Housewife Caught Spying on Local GI Joes
Mammalian Couple Slain For Excessive PDA
New Course to be Offered on College Campuses Nationwide
Androgynous Pizza Hut Employee Confuses Community
Purple Egg Found in Overgrown Pasture
Boy Changes Spiderman Shirt After One Week
Ghetto Fareway Supplies Family with Sausage
Teens Swoon After Attending Josh Groban Concert
Death Toll Up After Kickball Fatalities
Pastor Demands Wife; Must Like Sushi and Bake Banana Cream Pies (please apply if interested)
Estrogen Time Irks Young Woman's Beloved
Tarantulas Found At Sioux City Mall
Chick-Fil-A Cows Apprehended For Graffiti
Woman Assaults Daughters, Guest with Chocolate Eggs
Cute Girls Spotted Buying Diva Sunglasses
Recent Poll Reveals New Trend: Long Distance Relationships
Papparazzi Catches Glimpse of Camara-Shy Child Star
Runaway Ribs Startle Diners
Michigan State Makes the Final Four!
Man Blames Family Fued On Dominoes
Madonna, Beyonce, and Eminem Cause Distress on I-80
Women Survive Drama, Trauma, and Traffic to Arrive Safely in Hillsdale, Michigan
Yay for Spring Break in Sioux City, Iowa with the Larsens!
Yay for being back in Hillsdale!
Yay for... lots of things, actually.
But I'm done for now.
The End.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Monday, March 14, 2005
As you may or may not have heard, Saturday, March 12th, 2005 brought a sense of deep loss and grief to the aquatic world and anyone touched by the life of a certain sucker fish.
Yes, Sniper the Sucker Fish is dead.
Every fish dies, not every fish really lives.
We find solace in the knowledge that Sniper, despite his tragically premature death, truly lived his life to the fullest. He was a model sucker fish, and should be an inspiration to marine life everywhere.
RIP, Sniper: 10.2004 - 3.10.2005
Beloved fish, ineffective tank cleaner, inevitable filter clogger.
Sniper is survived by his two loving owners, the rather indifferent Mu Alpha House residents, and his two tankmates, Killer and George Gaylord Churchill III.
For more information on how you can show your support by making a donation, please contact the Katie and Kristin Mu Alpha House Fish Fund. All proceeds benefit the surviving marine life.
Open Fruit 2-o bottle casket viewing has already taken place.
Plans for a memorial service to celebrate Sniper's life are in the works.
They are, however, postponed until a date, time, and plot can be reserved.
And *ahem* bagpipes wouldn't hurt.
On a lighter note, life is looking a bit different lately.
In a *good* (with cherries on top) way!
And may I say that having Joy Hendricks in Hillsdale thrills me to no end?
Yes, I may.
Good. Because it does.
The end!
Yes, Sniper the Sucker Fish is dead.
Every fish dies, not every fish really lives.
We find solace in the knowledge that Sniper, despite his tragically premature death, truly lived his life to the fullest. He was a model sucker fish, and should be an inspiration to marine life everywhere.
RIP, Sniper: 10.2004 - 3.10.2005
Beloved fish, ineffective tank cleaner, inevitable filter clogger.
Sniper is survived by his two loving owners, the rather indifferent Mu Alpha House residents, and his two tankmates, Killer and George Gaylord Churchill III.
For more information on how you can show your support by making a donation, please contact the Katie and Kristin Mu Alpha House Fish Fund. All proceeds benefit the surviving marine life.
Open Fruit 2-o bottle casket viewing has already taken place.
Plans for a memorial service to celebrate Sniper's life are in the works.
They are, however, postponed until a date, time, and plot can be reserved.
And *ahem* bagpipes wouldn't hurt.
On a lighter note, life is looking a bit different lately.
In a *good* (with cherries on top) way!
And may I say that having Joy Hendricks in Hillsdale thrills me to no end?
Yes, I may.
Good. Because it does.
The end!
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Can I just say that being lured into helping to clean up your own prank *stinks*?
And getting pelted with snowballs by eight guys armed with Airsoft guns, charging and yelling "FREEDOOOMMM" for effect kinda stinks, too.
Except that it's really funny.
Especially when you deserve it. And you know it.
Well done, Outpost.
I salute you, your PWN Force, and your icy driveway for putting me in my place.
:: white flag ::
And getting pelted with snowballs by eight guys armed with Airsoft guns, charging and yelling "FREEDOOOMMM" for effect kinda stinks, too.
Except that it's really funny.
Especially when you deserve it. And you know it.
Well done, Outpost.
I salute you, your PWN Force, and your icy driveway for putting me in my place.
:: white flag ::
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Apparently, I can''t consume caffeine in even modest amounts and maintain any kind of composure.
Apparently, Kristin enjoys the song "Daughters" just as much as I do, which is convenient considering our current status as roomies and members of Koon's unofficial John Mayer fan club. We don't actually have pins or anything, just so you know.
Apparently, the fact that Goldfish now come in colors somehow makes them more desirable. I never really cared about them much before; now they're nearly irresistible. Thank you, Pepperidge Farm, for changing my life.
Apparently, I like to blog even when I have nothing to say.
How lovely for you.
Apparently, Kristin enjoys the song "Daughters" just as much as I do, which is convenient considering our current status as roomies and members of Koon's unofficial John Mayer fan club. We don't actually have pins or anything, just so you know.
Apparently, the fact that Goldfish now come in colors somehow makes them more desirable. I never really cared about them much before; now they're nearly irresistible. Thank you, Pepperidge Farm, for changing my life.
Apparently, I like to blog even when I have nothing to say.
How lovely for you.
Friday, February 25, 2005
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!
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!
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.