Choice

Today a YouTube video popped into my head that I hadn't watched for awhile.  It's a silly little video - two fairly average people singing a song with silly hand motions and facial expressions and things.  In the description, they describe it as "an unpretentious little song on the choices of life."  Yet somehow, despite its ridiculousness, it manages to have a deeper message that haunted me for weeks after I first saw this video, and I still find myself remembering it from time to time (like today).

Like many things in my life, it's in French.  Sorry anglophones.  The video has fairly decent subtitles on it (although "When you grow up" would be a better translation than "When you'll be older").  If you understand French the effect will be better, but what can you do.  Francophone or not, I invite you to watch it here:



Comme tu vois tout est ecrit d'avance 
Pour toi; pas besoin d'intelligence.
Tu as le choix d'aller ou on te dit.
C'est comme ca; bienvenue au paradis des hommes.

As you see, everything is already laid out
for you; no need to think about it.
You have the choice to go where they tell you to go.
That's how it is; welcome to human paradise.

If there's one thing that post-college life is filled with, it's choices.  Obviously, the choice about what you're going to do after graduation, which necessarily leads into where you're going to live, what job you're going to get, what apartment you're going to live in, what graduate course of study you're going to pursue, what long-term goals you want to be working towards, what you're going to cook for dinner, what TV show you're going to watch to procrastinate your homework, what politician you think is a joke, what politician you want to put unrealistic hopes in, who your new friends are going to be...what you're going to DO with your life.

I have a somewhat unhealthy preoccupation with what I'm going to DO with my life.  That seems to be the phrase adopted by recent college graduates.  Once you get handed your diploma and the socially expected and essentially predestined path for the first 22 years of the middle-class American life, the question on everyone's mind is "What now?"  Welcome choices to the stage.

Every kid is excited to grow up so that they can do whatever they want.  What this video made me think is this: how much choice do we REALLY have?  Really?  I'm not espousing some intense theology of predestination here, nor am I suggesting that we're all just robots walking around.  What I'm thinking is that maybe the decisions that we think make us unique don't make us so super unique after all.  Even worse, it's insanely easy for that which is unusually unique in us to be suppressed by other people's expectations.  Our society is so dualistic that you end up choosing sides instead of maintaining your unique ideas - are you a Republican or a Democrat?  A believer or an atheist?  What happens when you fall somewhere in the middle?  You confuse people.

You have the choice to go where they tell you to go.

Welcome to human paradise.

Lately I've been having major issues of vocation.  Almost every other day, I doubt whether or not seminary was the right choice for me.  I question my motivation for enrolling, I question my motivation for pursuing a ministry career, and I constantly question the depth of my faith.  I've been wondering lately whether all these doubts and questions arise from the fact that this stage in my life is requiring me to be the most individual I've ever had to be.  I'm living alone instead of within 500ft of my closest friends, I'm working toward a vague European ministry goal in North Texas where all  international ministry is oriented toward Hispanic countries, I'm at a seminary yet I'm not going for ordained ministry, I go to church alone, I have a job that almost no one understands, I'm studying Christian Education but don't want to lead church educational ministries.  I could list more, but that's a handful right there.

Here's the thing though:  what you're going to DO with your life is made up of what you're going to DO with today.  That was cheesy, but I said it.  And it's true.  A life is made up of a ton of individual days.  Still, it's so easy to get caught up in the little choices that don't really matter (a chop of beef or a fillet of whiting for dinner?).  Face it people: the people who you allow to influence your choices influence your whole life.  Where are your goals coming from?  Your passions and interests?  Your parents' expectations?  A social fable of "success"?  Where did your ideas come from? Are you reciting what you learned at school, or in church?  Are they based on the latest Hollywood trend?

I have several friends (and to an extent, can include myself in this group) who had big dreams of doing big things, but chose graduate school instead because it's more "practical" and more "predictable."  It's the "safe" choice.  And graduate school is good; Lord knows that in this economy a Master's degree is better than a Bachelor's degree if you're trying to get a good job.  But I'll admit to you, grad school was, for me, a safety net.  Another few years of school?  Been there, done that.  It's predictable.  It makes sense.

But what happens after the grad school security blanket gets pulled away?  Will I still have those big dreams, or will I fall back on yet another "safe" option.  Will I spend my life doing what is expected of me by society, by family, by classmates?  Or will I spend my life doing what I feel called to do, what I want to do?

Do I let people influence my major life decisions in the same way I let them influence the little ones?

It makes you think.

Breakdown #2,753

Upset again.  Don't particularly want to talk about it.  I'm all talked out, as a matter of fact.

And, it's after midnight, because I spent the whole of the evening 1) Drowning my sorrows in IHop Nutella Crepes, 2) Watching the Oscars, and 3) Writing a silly one-page reflection paper for my class tomorrow.

And now you know.  More later.

Exhausted...again.

Remember how I promised you an exciting post tonight?  Yeah.  That's not happening.  Once again, I find myself blogging under total exhaustion.  I wound up going over to a friend's house and watching movies all night, and didn't get back until just now (midnight-ish).  I think I'm going to have to come up with a better time frame for blog-writing...this right-before-bed thing hasn't been cutting it lately.

I'll just leave you with some highlights of the day, and a vow to be a better blogger from now on...

-Carpet is DRY!!!!
-Studied at the Library for like 5.5 hours
-Dinner at Genghis Grill
-Bridget Jones Diary and Stardust movie night

Aaaaaaaand, that's it.  I promise to become more interesting soon...getting back on a normal sleep schedule should help with that...please don't abandon me, oh faithful readers!

Is that an olive branch in that dove's mouth?

The carpet is starting to dry!!!!  Sound the trumpets and kill the fattened calf (unless you're a vegetarian, then go kill the fattened cabbage or something).

Hopefully, this is the beginning of the end of the flood saga.  Although, I'm starting to get used to my dysfunctional living room furniture arrangement and strange men coming in and out of my apartment at all hours of the day.  Still, this can end anytime.

Mostly, I'm ready to be able to cook in my apartment again!!  The kitchen is too dirty from construction dust to cook in, and I'm still not clear on if I'm allowed to use my dishwasher or not...and, since the sink is piled up with draining tubes from the dehumidifier and work rags, I'm not too keen on washing dishes by hand at the moment. In the meantime, healthy eating habits have all but gone out the window, as my diet has turned to McDonalds, Pizza Hut, Chipotle, and Raising Canes, plus a hearty Tex-Mex dinner in the past few days.

I vaguely considered doing the Wii Fit tonight, but then I sat on my couch and sang along to YouTube karaoke videos instead.  Yeah.  I'm super cool.

Happily, I WAS productive today!  I made up two hours of work that I'd slacked off on ($33 in earnings, baby!), and I made a really good start on my New Testament midterm study guide.  Tomorrow I'm planning to hop back over to the library...I've found that I'm particularly productive if I'm working in the red room, which (as it's name suggests) is all bright red and energetic, unlike the blue room of tranquility and the green room of cheerfulness - although these are also good rooms, I spent too much time in them last semester and now they're tainted with an aura of stress.  Red room is where it's at.

I wish I had some profound thoughts for you....sadly, my life has reached a monotony that hasn't been conducive to creativity.  Tomorrow's post should be more interesting...I have something I want to write about, but I'm too tired to write about it just now.  I'll just leave you on that cliffhanger...

(PS, if you understood the reference in the title, and its relevance to this post, you get bonus Bible points.)

Meh.

I'm sick of talking about this stupid flood, so all I'll say is that maintenance work continues.

Today was the first day I got a good night's sleep since last Friday...MUCH needed.  My day was comprised of maintenance men observance, classes, tex-mex with a friend, and a phone call home.  Now I'm watching Spirited Away again, and have nothing wonderful to say to you blog-readers.  The flood has me all out of whack; I'm lazy about schoolwork, and have been slacking off on my job as well. 

Here's a trailer for "Spirited Away," if you haven't seen it...maybe that will make this post more interesting....

Until tomorrow...

The Saga Continues

The trials of post-flood maintenance linger on.  The shower is re-tiled, the holes are fully patched over, and a gigantic dehumidifier is now keeping the giant industrial fan company.  The massive dust quantities remain, and will remain until maintenance is truly complete; and since my carpet is all jacked up with huge amounts of missing padding, and the carpet itself refuses to dry completely, and the walls still need to be repainted, cleaning continues to be put off.

Today I actually got to relax in my apartment, for the first time in 48 hours...when I got back from an interview around 3:30, maintenance had already quit for the day, meaning that I have had the last 7 hours gloriously to myself, without pounding or drilling or the like.  I took advantage of this circumstance by ordering Pizza Hut and watching Spirited Away.  I find that Studio Ghilbli films are particularly good when you're looking for an escapist element with your movie.  I'd never seen Spirited Away before; I'm a fan now.  Go watch it.

I'm too worn out to do a lengthy post of awesomeness, but I'll leave you with a funny moment of the day.  Around 4:45, far into a much-needed nap, I suddenly heard a knock on the door.  Thinking it was maintenance come back, I sprang out of bed, tried to pat my hair into a state fit for public view, and clamored through my dark apartment to my front door, and squinted in confusion as sunlight hit my eyes and cast light onto my disaster of an apartment.  The person at the door was not a maintenance man, however; it was actually a UPS delivery guy, delivering an impulse DVD purchase I made from Amazon the other day.  Met with the roar of the fan/dehumidifier, my semi-disheveled state, and the general chaos which enveloped these elements, he eyed me with concern before saying "Miss Finfrock?" tentatively.  "Yes," I responded.  "Sign here, please," he said, still looking a bit worried for my general well-being, and handed me the electronic sign-y thingy (why I needed to sign for an $8 DVD purchase is beyond me).  I signed it sloppily, still squinting from sunlight, and handed it back.  He, in turn, handed me my package.  I thanked him, and he wandered off, and I shut the door and threw the package on my couch and stumbled back to my bedroom to continue my nap.

Later, I was talking to my friend Brandi on the phone, and she said what was the funniest thing I heard all day:

"That guy probably thought the apocalypse was now, and it was starting in your apartment.  But, of course, we're going to watch that movie first, before the apocalypse spreads."

Maybe that's not funny if you're not Brandi or myself.  But I thought it was hilarious, and it brightened up the general situation.  In case you were wondering, the DVD in question is that Lost in Austen mini-series I saw on TV a few weeks ago...not the epitome of apocalyptic cinema, but when the apocalypse is starting in your apartment, who needs the movie version?

God Himself Couldn't Sink This Apartment

Welcome to "My Apartment = Titanic", the sequel.  In actuality, this is the middle movie of an epic trilogy that has yet to reach it's final conclusion.

Today I woke up bright and early and dragged myself out to my couch to await the maintenance men, who arrived at a timely 8:30 am.  Here is a summary of what happened between then and 12:00:

Holes Chopped in the Wall: 8
Maintenance Men Called in for Service: 7
Failed Attempts to Locate the Leaking Pipe: 5
"We'll be back"s said: 4
Disruptions of Neighbors to Check their Apartments: 3
Major Appliances Moved Around: 2
Gigantic Water Sucker Vacuums: 1
Gigantic Industrial Fans: 1

At that point, around noon, I decided that I couldn't take it anymore, and had to get out of the apartment.  For one thing, the sound of hammering through my shower tile was making my already splitting headache about ten times worse, and watching these men cut hole after hole in my walls, was stressing me out (especially since they were all speaking in Spanish and so I didn't have a clue what was going on beyond the occasional exasperated sigh).  So I picked myself up and went out to Walgreens, Half-Price Books, the super-fancy local mall (decked out in an AOII hoodie and baggy jeans...the high-heeled women judged me), and eventually got a burrito to go from Chipotle and drove to campus, where I sought solace under the shadow of the Meadows Art Museum with my burrito and Coke.  That was the most peaceful moment of my day...probably because it was the quietest.  No pounding, no droning on of professors, and no computer screen staring in my face.  But unfortunately, the burrito drew to a close, and (quite full) I dawdled over to the library where I sat in a comfy armchair and tried not to fall asleep.

Classes tonight were horrible to get through.  My mind was so preoccupied with anxiety about my apartment that I couldn't focus, and so for six hours straight I was watching the clock waiting for the moment when I could get home.  When that merciful moment finally DID arrive, I was relieved to see that the giant holes had all been mostly patched up, if not yet painted over, and my shower usable.  The giant fan still remains, and I've been moving it about strategically between the three major water spots, which are still sopping wet (the towels stopped soaking things up after awhile).  I also found two notes about returning for more maintenance tomorrow, and a palpable layer of dust coating practically everything in my living room from the reapplication of drywall, I'm guessing.  Not cool.  Some friends at school offered to come over and clean, and I may end up having to take them up on that.  But not until after maintenance is legitimately done.

To be continued...

My Apartment = Titanic

So this post was originally intended to be a witty contemplation of the ridiculousness of the TV version of Rogers and Hammerstein's "Cinderella", starring Brandy, but that will be put off to a later date, because my apartment has become a scene from "Titanic".  And not the happy beginning part where things are joyful and there's dancing to fiddle music and people are in love.  The second part, when there's a lot of water in places where water was not intended to go.

I was walking through my "hallway" today when all of a sudden my foot was wet.  Surprised, I felt the carpet and it was all wet, which was weird for two reasons: first, the water was in the absolute middle of the apartment, far from any source of water; second, I had been out of the apartment the entire day and hadn't turned anything on to have opportunity to leak.  I put a towel down and didn't think too much about it, thinking I might have spilled water there and forgotten about it...but then a half hour or so later, the towel was completely drenched.

Enter 24-hour maintenance hotline.

The thing I do like about my apartment complex is that they're REALLY fast about maintenance.  I called in the problem around 9:30pm, and by 9:40 a maintenance guy was in my apartment, poking around and turning on all the faucets and water-related appliances and pulling up carpet and eventually unhooking the baseboard from under the dishwasher, where an entire POOL of water was found to be sitting.

Not cool.

The weirder thing, though, is that it's not actually the dishwasher.  Maintenance Dude turned it on, and nothing was leaking.  It was then decided that the water was actually coming from the wall between the dishwasher and the cabinet under the sink, where all the pipes of the sink reside (apparently unhappily).  Looking closely, he discovered a watermark on the other side of the wall (my sink is on a pass-through counter into the dining room), and found that there was water seeping up through the carpet all around the baseboard surrounding the kitchen walls...of course, since that's the one area of my apartment that I never walk on, I hadn't noticed until the water had had time to spread out to the hallway.

Having established the source, Maintenance Dude left with a promise to come back first thing in the morning (at like 8:00...so much for sleeping in...).  Obviously, since it's the middle of the night, the lead maintenance supervisor isn't here, and he needs to come see it before any workers start "banging out some sheet rock," to use Maintenance Dude's words.  This could be a hefty ordeal...although, Maintenance Dude says that it's not as bad as it could be.  And like I said, the maintenance service here is REALLY fast.  So it'll get fixed.  I've gone ahead and moved the necessary furniture around, cleared off the kitchen counter and cleared out the cabinet under the sink, moved valuable/sentimental objects off the floor (including the Wii Fit board and the basket my Dad brought me back from Ghana), hid the guitar in the far corner of the bedroom away from the source of the leak, and put all available towels on the floor to soak up whatever water might arise during the night.  Now all there is to do is wait for maintenance to return in the morning.  In the meantime, I just feel ever so slightly like Rose floating on that board in the ocean.

I'll never let go, Jack.

Last week of February?

It's February 20th.  When I turned my little dial calendar to say "20" today, it was a bit shocking to see how fast this month has gone by.  We're down to 8 days left in the month, people!!

This means several things.

1) Midterms are rapidly approaching, and more quickly than they appear (my New Testament midterm, for example, FEELS far away because it is in March, but in reality, it is a week from this coming Thursday).

2) The quickness with which this semester is scooting along moves me ever closer to the halfway point of my seminary career (somewhere mid-summer), giving me a tiny glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel.

3) I am suddenly aware of how much I've been slacking on my goals for this month.

I pulled up my little goal-planner thingamabob and looked at all the things that I should have been thinking about all month.  Some things have been going well - I've been doing REALLY well about eating proper portions of healthy food, and I've been consistently taking home half of restaurant meals as leftovers.  I'm actually kind of surprised that the "eat healthy" goal is the one that I've been making the best progress on, considering how not-good at it I was in the past.  I guess that once you start, it's not that hard to continue doing.

Exercising, on the other hand, has been slowly winding downhill.  I had to stop doing the Wii Fit for about a week because I was having some sort of bizarre knee pain, and then I got all overwhelmed by school stress/vocational breakdowns, etc. and still haven't gotten back in the habit of doing it yet.  Also, my weekends/days off have been really busy lately, and I've been so exhausted at the end of the day that I'd rather just sit on the computer or watching TV than exercise.

Me and God are still working things out, so that goal remains.  Still not back in the active Bible-reading habit. The "Build Self-Confidence" goal bit the dust somewhere around that Valentines Day breakdown and is just now starting to tentatively poke its head out again.  As for the study skills, they could probably be better.  But, for my Tuesday education class, I'm actually reading the first book that I've been genuinely interested in all year: Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire.  It's all radical and revolutionary and stuff.

I have nothing of grand importance to say about today.  All I did was go to church, read for class, go to my small group, and straighten my hair.  Exciting, right?

Horse Therapy

Remember that non-romance-related breakdown that I had in class on Valentines Day?  Well, as one of the after-effects of that event, one of my classmates, named Pam, invited me out to her farm in McKinney for some horse therapy.  McKinney is about 20 miles or so north of Dallas, and factoring in traffic, construction, and getting lost on the way, it took me a good hour and a half to get all the way out there.  It was worth it though; it was a much-needed day of soul-healing.

Pam had prepared a tasty lunch of chicken, rice, and vegetables with soy sauce, and after eating and talking for a bit, we headed out to the horse pasture.  She has five: "T", Cooper, Tony, Ranger, and Ace.  They're all quarter horses, I believe, and they're all beautiful - even Tony, who's old and looks rather like one of those ponies that kids ride on at carnivals.  The first horse I encountered, though, was T.  People.  That horse is ENORMOUS.  He's 17 hands tall...Secretariat was only 16 hands (and Secretariat was a massive horse).  I was a little bit weary of the horses at first, since I'm rarely that close to animals that big, and suddenly I was standing backed against a wall and roughly 4 inches from his head.  I got more used to them though, and Pam had me groom Cooper: brushing his coat and combing his tail.  There's something really soothing about taking care of an animal that big.  And Cooper's really sweet, and was really easy to handle.  He kept turning his head and looking at me with his big pretty eyes.

As I was brushing Cooper, I was thinking about Pride and Prejudice, with Darcy and Bingley riding to Meryton on their horses, and I thought about The Three Musketeers, and all the horses that the Duke of Buckingham gave D'Artagnan for himself, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, and how D'Artagnan managed to lose all of them before they reached their intended owners.  I thought about how horses were so important in the past; pulling ornate Victorian carriages or blazing through the forest so that their rider could deliver an important message.  I thought about how men groomed Louis XIV's horses so carefully so that they would be perfect for the king's eyes, and I thought about Kentucky, and how Secretariat's grooms must have felt before his races, and I thought about the races I went to at Keeneland.  Horses have a history all their own, intricately intertwined with human history.

After the horses were well-brushed, I helped clean out the stalls, and we sat around on the porch and talked for a bit.  Eventually, we went out and fed the horses; I liked that part, because they all got all excited, especially Ranger and Ace who are both 3 years old and not broken yet, so they were jumping all around crazily and trying to steal the other's food.  Then we went back inside and got ourselves some food - wafer crackers with cream cheese, capers, smoked salmon, and red onion: aka, pretty much my new favorite thing to eat.  After some more good conversation about God and vocation and Six Flags and calling, Pam showed me the horse trailer that she took out west last summer, complete with a double bed and shower and food/clothes storage, in addition to all the room for the horses and their equipment, and we refilled bird feeders, petted Wompus the barn cat, and let the horses back out to pasture.  And then Pam sent me on my way back to Dallas, with two bars of dark chocolate in hand.

On the drive back, I listened to my CD of Stephane Query, a French Christian artist who sings popular American praise songs in French.  Driving through the dark, dusty from working in the stables, and singing along to French worship songs, it was a very peaceful moment; a quiet verification of a call to French ministry, as ambiguous and disconcerting as that may be.  A verification of an individual call, for an individual person.

It was a good day.   

Concert!

The bad thing about writing these posts late at night is that by the time I get around to writing, I'm often completely exhausted.  You lovely readers may have the privilege of reading these at normal hours of the day, but not so for me (what's more, I have to think up clever things to say).  This is particularly unfortunate tonight, because I have a lot of stuff to write about, and little energy to do it.

Two notable things happened today.

First, I cleaned the apartment.  Yeah.  Unless you were actually IN my apartment during the last few weeks, you can have no idea what kind of pit of despair and cluttered catastrophe I was inhabiting.  It was bad.  But now it is good: very good!  Everything's all shiny and dusted and nice looking, and I can actually SEE the surface of my coffee table again!  I didn't get to my bedroom, but that's not that big a deal.  I like being able to sit on my couch and look out at my pretty apartment.  The intrinsic stress level of the apartment has been decreased significantly, and the ability to be productive in the apartment seems to be ameliorated.  Good things.

Second, I went to the concert to end all Christian music concerts: WinterJam 2011.  This is the largest annual Christian music tour, and brings in a bunch of big-name Christian artists for a general admission price of $10.  TEN dollars.  And open seating.  It rocks.  I've been to one other WinterJam, and that was in 2007 (freshman year at Transy), and it was actually that concert that really helped kickstart my faith into gear.  So, it was nice to go back to one again.  This year's lineup included Jason Castro, Chris August, and Sidewalk Prophet as opening acts, followed by Red, Newsong, Francesca Battistelli, David Crowder Band, Kutless, and Newsboys.  If you're at all familiar with Christian music, you were probably impressed with that list.  It was legit...especially when, mathematically, I only paid approximately $1.10 to see each performer.

All the acts were good, I thought (although Red was a bit too screamo-rock-ish for me).  But, David Crowder Band and Newsboys totally kicked butt.  David Crowder Band, of course, played all kinds of familiar praise songs (since that's what they write) like "There is No One Like You" and "O Praise Him," and sounded REALLY good.  I hear they always put on a good show.  The thing about the Newsboys that was so great was that they were so bouncy.  The lead singer jumped around all over the stage and danced about throughout the entire act.  Also (I guess because they were the finale?) they were the only act to use the intense stage-rising/floating over the audience effects.  I can't explain it well.  Observe for yourself:

Up in the Air.  Click to make it bigger...

Kutless had an unusual lineup of songs - much more low-key than some of their stuff - that made me like them a lot too.  Francesca Battistelli was singing with a cold, and was obviously feeling under the weather...I actually felt kind of bad for her having to perform.  I hope she got orange juice and took a nap afterwards.  Still a good performance, but probably not her best.  Newsong was alright...they kind of paled in comparison to the others, I thought.

Here are some pictures from the concert, and the music video of my favorite song of the night (Newsboys, "Born Again" - it has intriguing harmony).  Check them out, yo!

Concert Buddies: my friends Sarah and Miranda and I

Our view of the stage

Kutless

David Crowder Band

Newsboys

Today I...

Today I...

-went to the AT&T store and got a new phone
-ate a grilled chicken and swiss sandwich with two hardboiled eggs
-watched "Friends"
-drove to campus
-got coffee
-learned about European Protestantism
-had my professor suggest "The Tudors" as a study tool
-learned about 1 Corinthians, 2 Corinthians, and Romans
-drove back from campus
-ate tika marsala with rice and veggies
-watched "Friends"
-translated
-translated
-translated
-facebooked
-translated
-youtubed
-reviewed translation
-ate a raspberry truffle
-skyped Brandi to celebrate finishing the translation
-facebooked
-wrote a blog post requiring little thought because I was too tired to think of something elaborate.

And went to bed.

My Daddy Loves Me

I received the following package in the mail today from my Dad:

It was a lovely find when I returned to my apartment with my brain frazzled from a French-translation marathon at White Rock Coffee.  Those are some giant truffles too...you can't really tell in the picture, but it's true.  Harry and David...so they're quite delicious :)

After discovering the package, I called home and talked to my Dad for a long time, and he really, really helped me feel better.  Honestly (perhaps unsurprisingy) I was still rather upset today.  I had a frustrating morning presentation that I don't even want to go into detail about, was completely exhausted for most of the afternoon, and eventually dragged myself reluctantly from the house to work on translating this year's prayer guide in a location with coffee and where it would be awkward to fall asleep.  I just keep feeling beat down...anyone else know that feeling?

Talking to my Dad was immensely helpful though, because he helped talk me through a lot of vocational things, and reminded me that it's okay to not be like everyone else.  It sounds like a silly point, and one that you should have a good grasp on by young adulthood, but I really need to be reminded of it every now and again.  I think I alluded to this in a previous post, but there's no one else with my same ministry interests in seminary: everyone wants to become an ordained pastor, and I couldn't stand the idea of being confined to a specific state or be at the mercy of the bishop to tell me which church I'm working at (this probably sounds completely foreign to non-United Methodists...google "Methodist Appointments" if you're really interested).  Even my interest in missions is different from the other people: everyone wants to go and help the poor people in third-world countries with missions, but I've always felt more drawn to middle- to upper-class people who feel like they're lives are going splendidly and think they don't need God.  If everyone goes to help the poor people (a very good thing to do, of course), who is going to be leftover to help the rich?  Nobody thinks of European countries as a mission field, but that's precisely the work I want to go into, assuming I stay on the ministry career path.  There are plenty of places in the world where the gospel hasn't been heard at all...but what about "post-Christian" Europe, as the continent has come to be called?  Who's going to serve them?

I think that in the long run, it's a good thing that I have such individually tailored interests; if nothing else, it makes it easy to pinpoint the type of work I want to do, and involves ministering to an often-overlooked people group.  But honestly, in the meantime, I feel a little bit crazy.  I get weird looks from people for not being on the ordination track, and have difficulty articulating offhand what I want to do with my seminary degree - a degree that, by it's very nature, is tailored to leading American church congregations as an ordained pastor.

I mentioned a few days ago that I had a "vocational breakthrough"...I can now tell you that that breakthrough was deciding to chase after the French ministry goal with my whole heart, not spending all my time quibbling about not being like the other people in seminary.  If you've known me long enough, you probably don't think that the "French ministry" thing is much of a breakthrough...because to an extent, I've always articulated that sort of calling on and off, and every time I have a "breakthrough," that's what it is.  Friends have often given me weird looks when I tell them excitedly that I want to go into French missional ministry, and say something along the lines of "Wasn't that already what you were doing?"  I think it's a little-known fact how much time I spend doubting that goal in my head and wandering away from it; so when I come back to it all excitedly, most people don't even know that I've been gone.

I remember three or four years ago, sitting in a session at a Campus Crusade Winter Confrerence in North Carolina, and suddenly thinking how selfish it would be of me not to use my foreign language skills for ministry.  By being fluent in a second language, I can speak about God to twice as many people as the average monolingual American.  To me, it seemed obvious that it would be hugely selfish not to use French in ministry in some way...I was surprised to find out, later on, that other people didn't really think of language that way.  As small of a thing as that is, I think that sort of solidifies a call to French missional ministry.  I hate using "call" language, but I'm at a loss for other words in this situation.

Part of my recent struggles, then, has been confusion about whether or not seminary is a necessary step on the road to this vocational goal.  I'm such a minority in my interests and passions that it's easy to feel like 99% of what I'm learning in my classes is completely unnecessary.  That is a very, very frustrating situation, especially when the seemingly irrelevant material causes me mountains of stress as teachers cram tons of apparently useless assignments down my throat.

So we'll see how the rest of this year goes.  I think I have some major thinking to do about whether staying in seminary is the right thing for me to do.  In the meantime, I'm going to try to keep my eye on the final destination, without getting derailed by every pit-stop along the way.

Night

I don't really know what to say so much about today.  I woke up still feeling fairly beaten down, if more well-rested, and that feeling lasted for most of the day, with periodic reprieves resulting from chatting with friends during classtimes (no matter how depressed I am, I always end up laughing in class from time to time, whether because my teacher is being ridiculous or some classmate is making an odd comment, or because the 16th century document we're reading uses the word "popish" to describe something that is pope-like).

I did experience one small moment of peace today, and that was when I was walking back to my car after class.  The weather's gotten nice again, and it was that kind of cool weather where there's just a hint of moisture lingering in the air, and the night seems to have a certain freshness and quietness to it, with the moon shining brightly above.  It's not a long walk to the parking garage from my classroom building, but in that short walk I was taken back to nighttime walks in Lexington, Paris, and Santa Cruz, one after the other in quick succession - those times when I lingered under the stars with friends, laughing together, crying together, dreaming together, wondering together.  As I breathed in the night air, I felt a sense of continuity in my life, and felt as if there may actually be someone guiding all of this together.  I haven't felt that for a good, long time.

Breakdown

What would Valentines Day be without some tears, right?

Ironically, the tears had absolutely nothing to do with Valentines Day...I really couldn't have cared less that today was a holiday.  For me, it was just another day of camping out in the library catching up on homework followed by a 3-hour class.  Nothing special...just the usual.

What was weird was, by the time I approached class time, I was actually really well situated in the world of homework; with the exception of coming up with a few discussion questions, I'm completely done for the week (excepting again those readings which I rarely to never actually do).  But STILL, I felt completely on-edge, completely overwhelmed, and once again out of my element at seminary.  The reading I was primarily working on was about personal vocation (that is, doing what is right for you and not what you think you SHOULD do or what other people EXPECT you to do).  Fifty-five pages of reading, and the more I read, the more I began to doubt everything about my present situation: my reasons for being in seminary, my reasons for wanting a ministry career at all, my reasons for being so into my faith in college.  Everything.  It sucked.

And then, I had to go to class, where I continued sitting in overwhelmed-ness, resenting my classmates who seemed attentive and interested and (heaven forbid) HAPPY to be in seminary.  Because this is the problem: I'm not happy.  Not really.  I'm occasionally happy, like when I'm with friends just hanging out and things...but I would not describe my overall daily demeanor as happy.  I would describe it as anxious, stressed, overwhelmed, and exhausted - perpetually.  So, by the time that we got to the "Circles of Trust", and someone made some comment about the "dark night of the soul", I responded a bit too emphatically about having experienced such a thing, and when asked to explain myself, proceeded to break into uncontrollable sobbing tears in front of four grown adults who are all at least 10 years my elder or more.

Great.

Honestly, I feel like I don't even know who I am.  Like, at all.  It seems like I've always defined myself in relation to my circumstances, or in relation to other people - who I am on my own completely baffles me.  It may be totally juvenile of me, but I feel like I'm struggling to even answer the basic "WHO AM I?" question.  Why did I decide to come to seminary?  Was it because I actually wanted to serve God?  Or was it because it's what I felt like I SHOULD do?  Or was it because I couldn't think of something else to do?  Or was it because my parents shot down the plan to spend a year in mission abroad, and this was the safer choice?  Or was it because I happened to have the occasional valuable thought in Bible Study?  Or was it because I wanted people to look at my life and be impressed with what I was doing?

Whatever the reasons (I'm thinking it was a combination of all of the above reasons, to various extents), I've now gotten myself stuck here.  You can't just throw away a full scholarship to graduate school...I'm more afraid of not having a masters degree in the present job market than I am afraid of being stressed out for the next two years.  Moreover, I refuse to be a "drop out", even at the graduate level.  Besides, I don't know where else I would go, or what else I would do.  That's what scares me the most, I think...doubting if this is my vocation and not having the slightest idea what else it could possibly be.  Even though lately I've been returning to the idea of French ministry, I keep doubting that seminary is necessary to achieve that end.  I already have a job working in that direction, and practically everyone in seminary is working toward being an ordained pastor.  I'm not doing that.  And every time I tell someone I'm not doing that, they seem surprised.  It's like I've gotten myself locked in church-leader-training land.  Maybe the reason this is hard is because this is the most individual I've ever actually had to be...does that make sense?  I can't find a group of people with similar interests to connect with and identify with, because I'm the only one with these particular interests in my present location.  That might be a good thing in the long run.  Right now, it sucks.

So anyway, I bawled for the entire 30 minutes of "Circle of Trust" time, then for another 20 minutes while two women stayed after to try to help comfort me, and then sobbed all the way back to my apartment.  Given all the sobbing, I didn't go to my friend's dinner.  I sat on my couch and ate leftover Chinese food and watched "Pride and Prejudice."

And that, my friends, is how I spent my Valentines Day: doubting my whole life, making a sobbing fool of myself in front of people I barely know, ditching friends, and drowning my sorrows in the stable predictability of Jane Austen.  I hope you had a better day than I did.

Happy 50th Post!

The little blog post counter on the Blogger homepage informs me that this shall be my 50th post.  Yay for blog dedication!  Everyone should go eat a cupcake or something in celebration.

I am, quite simply, exhausted.  Today was a mental race to the finish line in the world of homework as I paid the price for the homework evasion I've been engaged in since Thursday.  Luckily, I managed to answer the giant set of reflection questions for my Education class by reading only one chapter of the book we were supposed to read in its entirety (and using Google Books to search for things that didn't fall in that chapter).  The questions were mostly about personal experience, so they were fairly easy to answer even without doing all the reading.  After that was done, I read the chapter that I have to lead class discussion on on Wednesday; still have to plan out the actual class, but I have some ideas floating around.  I'll be glad when that's over...it seems like it's causing me an unnecessary amount of stress.  Having accomplished a fair amount of work, I took a break by watching a documentary about Royal London, and called home for a chat.

It was also in this time frame that I discover that I owe around $500 in taxes...self-employment sucks this time of year (my job contract defines me as an independent contractor, so I don't get taxes taken out the rest of the year...so they all pile up).  That was an unfortunate discovery...combined with the persistent overwhelmed-ness that is my life in grad school, I proceeded to lay on my bed tearfully for 10 minutes or so.  Then, I got up, got dressed, and got myself to the library to keep working on things.  This was slightly awkward at first, as I began to have one of my bi-weekly tearful nervous breakdowns actually IN the library, but eventually I was able to get my entire New Testament paper written...if in a rather unorthodox fashion for me.  I think it's alright...at any rate, it's not going to get much better, and it's good to have it out of the way early (it's not due until Thursday).

Eventually I returned to my apartment and ate Chilis leftovers and shortbread cookies and a cupcake.  Then, I realized that I haven't done the Wii Fit in like forever, so I made myself do step aerobics for half an hour.  And now I'm here, writing this blog post.  See where that exhaustion came from?

The good news is, I think I should be able to go to the Valentines Day Indian dinner tomorrow night, which is good, unless something crazy happens.  For once I've actually managed to get ahead...even though I still haven't done any reading for my class tomorrow.  I guess that will be the morning activity.

But right now, I'm absolutely exhausted.  I'm going to take a shower and go to bed.  Don't try and stop me.

(Sorry the 50th post wasn't more intriguing...how interesting can a day filled with homework be, really?)

A Day Which Was Good.

Random thought of the day: When real-life movie stars play normal people in movies set in the present time, does that mean that in that fictional movie-world, their real-life movie star persona doesn't exist?

Think about it.  We're coming back to it later.

Today was a very good day of several very good things.  First, the bridesmaid dress adventure: my friend Miranda needed to get a bridesmaid's dress for a wedding that she will be in this summer, and my friend Rachel and I came along to her appointment at David's Bridal for no real reason other than to frolic amidst fancy dresses, dig through racks looking for specific sizes, muse about personal wedding dress preferences, and offer our wise second opinions about the caliber to which each dress contributed to the general fantastic-ness of Miranda's appearance.  It was a good time.  After the perfect bridesmaid dress was acquired, we went across the street to the mall and had similar adventures in Forever 21, before hopping off to lunch at Pei Wei, where much good conversation and tasty Asian food was to be had.

After our morning adventures, we went back to Miranda's house to "help" her housemate Amy make shortbread cookies (not that we were really too much help, because she had things pretty well in hand).  So we just hung out and munched on shortbread cookies and cupcakes, while I finished translating the first portion of the Pray for France prayer guide to English (yay for work productivity!).  Eventually, Rachel and Amy ran off to the Nuevo Dia, a new Spanish ministry some people from Perkins are starting, and Miranda and I continued "working" on homework...though, we got more complaining done than actual work.  Despite making huge strides in work for my job, I really got nothing done in the way of schoolwork (again).  This...is a problem.  I'll be hitting the library or White Rock Coffee tomorrow afternoon for sure.  Things are starting to look tight...my Valentines Day plans, which currently consist of eating an Indian dinner with a bunch of people, may turn into a paper-writing/reading festival.  I have GOT to kick my butt into gear.  Here is my to-do list as it recently stands (as in the things that must be completed by Thursday...and which were intended to be accomplished this weekend, and many of which will need to be done BEFORE Thursday)

-Plan how I'm going to lead my Spiritual Formation class for an hour and a half this week

-Read the chapter necessary to do lead that class

-Write my New Testament Paper

-Review the book necessary to write that paper, and outline it before actually writing

-70ish pages of Prayer and Spirituality Reading

-Start reviewing the book for my Prayer and Spirituality presentation next week

-Read 160 pages for my education class, and answer a ton of questions about them (or skim the book enough to find the answers to these questions...last week's questions took me an hour and a half to answer)

-Write up self-care journals for the past few weeks for Spiritual Formation

The unfortunate thing is that this list, daunting as it is, doesn't even include the normal class reading for my church history and New Testament classes that I have (unfortunately) become accustomed to skipping.  

Grad school is intense.

So yes, I'll be busy tomorrow.  Church in the morning, homework until my women's small group in the evening, and homework the rest of the night.  We'll see where that gets me...

Now back to my original question...do real-life movie stars cease to exist in the fictional world of the movies in which they play normal characters?  See, I was watching Music and Lyrics tonight, and that movie makes a lot of pop culture references....and it made me think, if Hugh Grant is playing pop-star Alex Fletcher in this movie, then does Hugh Grant the actor still exist in that world?  If someone said something to Alex Fletcher about Hugh Grant, would the character know who that was?  And if someone walked up to the character Sophie Fisher (a completely normal person with no fame at all) and said she looked JUST like Drew Barrymore, would she know what they were talking about?

It makes you think.

In other news, I LOVE Drew Barrymore's wardrobe in that movie.  Every time I watch it I want to run out and buy a bunch of new clothes.  It's a problem.  It's also probably a good thing that the movie ended at 11:00pm, when all the stores are closed.

Leave comments about the movie star+movie character conundrum.  I'm interested to know your opinions...

Truths Universally Acknowledged

It is a truth universally acknowledged that an unmarried lady who is a fan of Jane Austen films must be in want of a silly mini-series based on "Pride and Prejudice."  In deference to this truth, I spent a good deal of today and yesterday watching "Lost in Austen," in which an avid Jane Austen reader suddenly finds herself switched places with Elizabeth Bennett after the latter wanders in through a door in her bathroom (yeah, that's right).  Amanda (as this modern-day person is named) proceeds to cause a lot of chaos that completely derails the story (like causing Jane to end up marrying Mr. Collins and Mr. Bingley to run of with Lydia) and discovers that a lot of things are different then they seem (Miss Bingley is secretly a lesbian, for example).  It's all kinds of ridiculous, and thoroughly enjoyable.  Behold here the trailer, complete with dramatic narration:



So yes, that claimed a four hour chunk of my weekend.  Time well spent, if you ask me.

The general splendor of Cafe Brazil

Other time well spent was making a new friend over coffee today!  Friendship and coffee always lead to happy things.  We went to Cafe Brazil; if I haven't mentioned this place in this blog before, it's a miracle because my SMU friends and I go there all the time.  Although, I think I've only been one other time this semester, so maybe I haven't mentioned it.  It's a colorful yet fairly unassuming place, with good coffee, and good food, and REALLY good smores hot chocolate (unfortunately that was a seasonal thing, so it has vanished from my life).  I haven't had anything there that I haven't liked.  The sign outside was advertising "unique, healthy options" for awhile...and while my friends and I find this to be a complete and utter lie and a prime example of false advertising, it's a tasty place.  If you ever visit me in Dallas, there is a 99% chance that we will go there.

After coffee, I decided to set out for the undergraduate library to try and get some work done (the theology school library (Bridwell) closes at 6 on Fridays).  Although, when all was said and done, I could have just gone to Bridwell, because by 5:10 (only about 20 minutes after arriving) I decided that I wasn't in a homework mood and left.  I think that I can't work in ugly places....somehow, I got lost and I ended up in the science and engineering section of the library, which is REALLY ugly.  I need to be in pretty places to get real work done.  But, I didn't want to wander aimlessly around the library (I hate not looking like I know where I'm going when everyone else knows exactly what's going on), and since I didn't have a ton of motivation I just came back to the apartment...where I have spent a completely unproductive evening including a great deal of television and Facebook and "Phantom of the Opera" in French.  I always find it hard to motivate myself to do homework on Fridays, since I have Saturdays and Sundays off as well, and no class until 4:30 on Mondays.  I do have a great deal of work to do, though, so I'm hoping to get a lot done tomorrow (after I go bridesmaid dress shopping for my friend Miranda in the morning (she's the bridesmaid, my friend Rachel and I are tagging along)).  Sometimes I need to be somewhat pressed for time to get real work done.

I also think I may have had a vocational breakthrough tonight.  More on that later, though...I want to get my thoughts straight before I  have a blog post about it.

Also, a France conference update: it's November 20-22, which is the week of Thanksgiving, but not Thanksgiving itself.  As for financing, the idea right now is that the organization would pay for some of the trip, and I would raise some money to cover the rest (like a missionary-esque situation).  This could be troublesome, since most of my friends are students and can't really afford to give money away.  So we'll see...it's still a possibility, just a bit more complicated.  I'd love to be able to go, and hopefully it will work out!

Until tomorrow...

Exciting News!

So it's ironic that my post last night was about France and my love thereof, because today I received an email oozing with exciting news from my boss regarding my job with the CCFOF (which, you will recall, is a US based non-profit that supports French ministries by mobilizing prayer and financial resources with the goal of seeing every French ministry financially independent and spiritually flourishing).

The first exciting thing is that I'm getting a 10% pay raise (woot!).

The second exiting thing is that he and the board of directors would like for me to go to a conference in France in November.


(................................................)


GNSJKNLKABNGKJDASMKFLAJKALMKCNHGCAJ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(In case you're wondering, that's what your brain sounds like when it short circuits from shock and explodes in an internal combustion of excitement because you've opened the aforementioned exciting email in the middle of class, where squealing with joy is generally unappreciated.)

I'm SUPER excited.

Now, I don't want to get my hopes too far up in the air because I know very, very little about this possible trip to France - including how it would be financed.  Because honestly, if I'm the one who has to pay my way, that is probably  not an option.  Also, if the dates conflicted irrevocably with my classes or my internship, that would be difficult (although, since it's a ministry related trip, I'm thinking they'd be pretty understanding).  I've emailed my boss asking for more details - the email was really vague, and mostly just getting a feel for whether I'd be interested in going to France (as if there would be any doubt...)  So I'll keep you posted as details unfold.

Although, even if things don't work out, there are still reasons to be excited.  First of all, my boss and the board of directors clearly think I'm doing a good job if they're willing to send me off to France to represent them.  Secondly, even if things don't work out to go this year (scheduling or finances or whatever other reason), I presume they might still want me to go another year.  Thirdly, this job is shaping up to do exactly what I hoped it would.  When I started working for the CCFOF, it was only in its third year of existence, but with loads of potential, and I remember thinking how cool it would be to get involved on the ground level and grow with the organization and secretly hoping that one day it would be big enough that it would give me an excuse to go to France.  If things work out, that could actually happen this year!  It makes me feel very important that I could have to go on European business trip (haha).  More seriously, it really means a lot to me that they'd want me to go...even if that doesn't really get to happen.

So that was the big news of the day.  Other events include making homemade hummus (a little too heavy on the garlic, but tasty), watching half of the "Lost in Austen" mini-series on DVR, and having lunch at McAlister's with my friend Emily, who was my roommate on summer project and who currently lives in Dallas.  I was also unusually attentive in New Testament class and actively involved with the lecture.  Christian Heritage (my church history class) didn't receive the honor of my complete attention, since I discovered the email of joy in the middle of the lecture and was therefore good for nothing for the remaining 40 minutes.

Yes, so all in all, a decidedly good day :)

My Life in Decorative Objects

So last night I had a profound thought (you know I have those every now and again).

I was laying in bed struggling to fall asleep (a usual occurrence as of late), and not feeling in the least tired I was looking around my room in the darkness.  On the wall next to my bed I have these decorative trivets with antiqued images of Paris landmarks on them.  There are three: the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, and the Notre Dame Cathedral.  I've had these things for quite awhile now...I remember buying them at Gordmans when I was like 15 or so; they were one of my more classy decorative decisions of that era, which also included a tie-dye wallpaper border and multi-colored bedroom walls.  Ever since then, I've had them hanging in a row above my bed at home.  I just brought them down here to Dallas after winter break in an effort to make my apartment feel more homey and sentimental, along with a bunch of other things.

I was mostly staring at the Arc de Triomphe, because it was the one closest to my head.  And as I was looking at it, I started to think how strange it was that I had stood beside the real Arc de Triomphe, that for four months I lived a 10 minute walk away from its chaotic home in the rushing whirl of Charles de Gaulle Etoile.  Looking at this trivet, I didn't just see the Arc de Triomphe; I saw beyond it, to the swirl of cars rushing around it, down the busy Champs-Elysee filled with tourists and dogs and Louis Vitton bags and designer shops and a Starbucks for good measure, reaching past Nicolas Sarkozy's governmental home at the Palais de l'Elysee and through the Tuileries Gardens, dodging kids with toy sailboats and children on ponies and lovers lounging in the shadows of elegant statues until you reach the glass pyramid in the courtyard of the Louvre, standing in sharp distinction against the baroque architecture and bidding art lovers around the world to enter into its mystery, before finally turning around and seeing the Arc de Triomphe looming subtly in the distance.  And just to your left you, the tip of the Eiffel Tower...

...the Eiffel Tower, standing sentinel over Paris, saved from destruction by its usefulness to radio antennae after the World's Fair, now a site of pilgrimage for tourists and French students from around the world, casting a shadow over the Champ de Mars with picnicking students and men playing soccer, and banking it on the other side the Seine, spitting the city in two, caught between stone walls and under exquisite bridges, with the BateauBus sweeping through the water, past the Grand and Petit Palais and the Musee d'Orsay and the Louvre once more and the Conciergerie until the Notre Dame cathedral spire peeks over the curved rooftops...

...Notre Dame.  The Lady of Paris, not the biggest cathedral in Paris but the most well-known, saved from decay by Victor Hugo's story of a hunchback and a gypsy while today the Roma people still gather in its plaza to beg money from the wealthy tourists who politely excuse them in discomfort, Quasimodo's bells ringing over the city, for Sundays, for prayers, for Easter, for Christmas, to mark the hours of normal days as people line up along the side of the cathedral waiting their turn to climb to the top, to stand next to the gargoyles and touch one of the famous bells, while still others rush inside to see the rose windows cast colorful shadows on the marble floors.  Back outside, across the Seine is Shakespeare and Co., a twisting English bookshop with rooms that wind in and out of each other like chapters in a novel and not a wall in sight as bookshelves obscure them.  Around the corner, tourist shops, tourist shops, tourist shops and crepe stands and crowds until the alley breaks onto the St. Michel Fountain with its pink marble and bronze statue of victory over evil, and a few blocks behind the Musee Cluny, built in a former monastery that stood on that spot since the 1300s and hiding within its walls some of the few treasures that remain today from that time, and a little further up an alleyway the tiny 2-room cinema where my housemates and I went and saw "Lolita" together in our first weeks in Paris.

And now, in Dallas, in my bedroom, laying awake at almost three in the morning, thinking how strange it is that someone has condensed Paris into the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, and Notre Dame.  Certainly, I was excited to see these things when I was there.  But now, what I treasure most about that semester is that when I think of Paris I don't see disembodied images in my mind; I see the city in three dimensions.  Living in Paris for 4 months, you kind of stop noticing the Eiffel Tower after awhile.  It's always there, and even though you catch it peeking at you from all over the city, you stop really SEEING it.  I know countless people who would kill to see the Eiffel Tower in person.  But for me, that's not what Paris is.  It's so much more.

Isn't it weird how special things stop being special after awhile?  I have no less than four Eiffel Towers in my apartment, decorating my new home with the quintessential Parisian icon, but when I was actually IN Paris it wasn't the Eiffel Tower that meant the most to me.  What seems special in dreams and ambitions sometimes isn't fully appreciated when those dreams are realized...and sometimes an enormous magnitude of prized memories become condensed into a few decorative trivets.

Paris still sneaks up to me every once in a while...when I bite into a piece of a crusty baguette or when I smell cigarette smoke on a chilly winter morning, I'm back in the city, if only for a moment.  The ordinary becomes extraordinary, because it recalls something that was once had but was lost.

My question is this: why must we wait until things are lost to appreciate their beauty and significance?  Why can't the ordinary be extraordinary in the present moment?  Why can't we appreciate and savor those moments when our dreams come true or we reach our goal without immediately rushing off to the next one?

Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said that the most important hour in the history of all time is the present hour - the past is passed, and the future is determined by our actions in the present hour.  I'm through with living in the past.  I'll take the past with me, in my heart always, but I'm tired of wishing myself out of the present time, wishing myself back to a different place or time.  People are composite identities.  Paris is a part of me like Transylvania University is a part of me like St. Louis is a part of me.  I need to focus on making Dallas a part of me as well...and appreciate the present like I now appreciate moments of the past.

Because condensing your entire life into a decoration is silly.  No matter how pretty it looks.

Better Day

Today was a better day.  It started off well - I actually READ my Bible this morning (I know, right?).  That's a new one this year.  I decided to start doing my 10-minute daily meditation homework first thing in the morning when I haven't had time to get all stressed or distracted, and that put me in a contemplative God-mood that motivated me to actually have a personal quiet time.  That was good.  To be honest, though, I quickly got bored...I'm out of practice, for one thing, and I was exceptionally tired this morning for some reason.

In a way, the better-ness that was today was kind of intangible in a way.  I just felt more confident than usual, I guess, which made me feel happier than usual.  I actually spoke up and said intelligent things in class today, and I think I've actually been working my way into my professor's good graces.  For one thing, I think they're starting to know who I am.  These big lectures are an abrupt shift from the liberal arts class of 5-10.  It may have taken a semester, but I think I'm actually starting to get used to the change.

All in all, not too much exciting or interesting to report.  It was 6-hours-of-class-Tuesday, so academia dominated my day.  Given how good I felt today, I'm surprised to find I have so little to write about...that's why I called it an intangible happiness before.  I'm thinking it's a direct result of that "let go and let God" mentality I'm trying to adopt.

I won't belabor the point that I don't really have anything to write about today.  Now, Dallas IS supposed to get another "wintry mix" tomorrow...we'll see how that pans out.  Class or no class tomorrow?  Come back tomorrow to find out...

(Suspenseful ending, right?)

Beautiful Things Out of the Dust

My local grocery store sells cacti.

That photo actually has nothing to do with today's blog post except that I noticed it today and thought it was weird.  So go ahead and take a moment to ponder it, and then we'll move on.

OK, so as you might have guessed my day began with grocery shopping (cacti weren't included on the list, so they didn't make it into the cart.  Sorry to disappoint).  Dallas was back to it's usual dry, sunny, less-crowded-than-during-the-super-bowl self today, which was a good change of pace.  The city is slowly getting back into my good graces...hopefully this trend will continue.  The grocery store was generally uncrowded.  Apparently 12:30 on a Monday afternoon isn't peak grocery-shopping time for people.

I don't really remember much else about the afternoon...which, since I done consume intoxicants, must mean that nothing consequential happened.  I do remember there was some bashing in of virtual heads with swords on Wii Sports Resort (not nearly as violent as it sounds).  I think besides that I really just sat around.  Today was back-to-school after last week's weather-related break, and I wasn't necessarily looking forward to it.  Once I got going, though, it felt good to be back on routine.  And I always look fabulous with my black and white plaid trench coat and sparkley sunglasses, so that put me in a good mood on the way to class (an emotion that was ameliorated by singing "Hey Soul Sister" enthusiastically at the top of my lungs as I buzzed down Central Expressway).

Class was good.  This was my once-a-week, 3-hour "Prayer and Spirituality" class (the one with the "circles of trust," for those of you keeping track).  Prior to class I had accomplished a feat of sneaky academic genius via email with the professor.  You see, every student in the class has to pick a classic text on Christian spirituality and give a quick oral book report to the class.  As I was perusing the list this afternoon, dreading the idea of adding an entire extra book to my workload just for a 5 minute report), I suddenly realized that The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence was on the list.  This excited me for three reasons: 1) This book is SHORT, 2) This book is EASY to read, and 3) I'VE READ THIS BOOK AT LEAST THREE OR FOUR TIMES.  And, it happens to be quite good.  I think I may have even squealed a little bit out loud when I saw it listed there.  I jotted a quick email to my professor telling him how much I would appreciate the opportunity to present this book to the class as it is one of my personal favorites, and within 15 minutes had an "OK" allowing me to claim that book (every student has to pick a different book, I'm 90% sure).  Then I did a little happy dance around my apartment because I dodged a stress bullet.

Back to class itself.  Somewhere in the middle of class (specifically, during a lectio divina reading of Matthew 1:10-11), it suddenly occurred to me how God makes beautiful things out of people's difficulties.  THIS was kind of a break through...it's basically God telling me "Chill OUT already!  Trust me, I know what's going on."  And that was good to hear, after yesterday's breakdown.  I've received so much encouragement from so many different people over the past two days, and I really want to say thank you SO much.  I need to hear people tell me "you can do this" now and again, and I really don't know if you can understand how much your constant encouragement means to me.  You all rock.  The new plan of attack, as difficult as I know it is going to be, is to stop stressing, and trust God to carry me through.  "Let go, and let God," as they say.

When I got back to my apartment after class, I wasn't really very hungry.  So, naturally, I made the world's most enormous meat loaf for dinner.  Actually, I made the world's most enormous meatloaf to cover the next six dinners, so that I'll have something substantial to eat before the class marathon tomorrow evening without having to cook anything.  In reality, it's probably not the world's most enormous meatloaf, but it is the first meat loaf I have ever created (yay comfort food!) and considering I'm the only person who will be eating it, it's pretty big.  Happily, it's from the "Cooking Light" cookbook I acquired from my family's kitchen over winter break, so it's healthier than the average meatloaf, and it is SO GOOD.  Seriously.  SO good.

Sorry to abruptly change from the inspirational God stuff to rambling about meat loaf.  But, I wanted to mention both, and I tend to do these posts in chronological order.  So how's about you go get yourself some meatloaf (or veggie loaf, if you're vegetarian), and ponder how God might be preparing something beautiful  out of your difficult circumstances.  And keep pondering the cactus in the grocery store while you're at it...that was weird.

Nervous Breakdown and Coffee Shop Productivity

This morning I opted out of going to church, as I woke up tired from a restless night's sleep...I wasn't feeling too great last night for some reason (actually, probably related to the giant bag of M&Ms I consumed during "The King's Speech"), and when the alarm sounded around seven o'clock, I chose more sleep over church.  I felt rather guilty...but there it is.

In other news, I had one of those "you're-not-strong-enough-to-be-in-a-career-in-ministry" / "why-the-heck-are-you-in-seminary" / "who-do-you-think-you-are-to-be-qualified-to-lead-people-in-their-spiritual-lives" breakdowns this morning.  It spawned from a realization that there was no way on earth that I was going to have the intellectual stamina to get through over 100 pages of reading for Tuesday's class, answer a bunch of questions pertaining to said reading (so I can email them in ahead of time and look good), do all of my class reading for tomorrow's class, post something intelligent on Blackboard for my church history class, and get a good start on my New Testament paper in one day.  No way in heaven or hell (maybe heaven, but as much time as I spend studying God-related things, I've been having significant trouble connecting with God in the personal realm lately).  And so, I did the natural and appropriate thing in such circumstances: I changed my Facebook status to something about not being cut out for ministry, and sat on my couch and cried.  Luckily for me (unluckily for them), my parents called right at the onset of the cry-fest for our usual Sunday chat, and offered some comfort and general distraction.

White Rock Coffee: Unassuming
But Awesome

After the phone call, I decided I needed to get out of the apartment.  I was a little weary of doing so after yesterday's debacle with the Dallas public realm, but my apartment was turning back into a hobbit hole of despair.  Going out into the world was necessary to maintain sanity.  So I got up, wiped remaining tears from my eyes, got dressed, and packed my laptop and textbooks up and took myself out to White Rock Coffee, a local coffee shop about a 7 or 8 minute drive from my apartment.  The beautiful thing about choosing this particular location was that it required me to drive AWAY from downtown...meaning in the opposite direction of all the Super Bowl fanatics flooding the Dallas area with their cheese hats and Steelers paraphernalia.  The fact that I encountered no crazy drivers on the way there put me in a good mood, and once I got inside the coffee shop and ordered myself a cafe au lait and set up shop for productivity, I got some serious work done.  I banged out answers to the education-reading reflection questions that had sparked the tears earlier (taking my mother's advice and "schmoozing" my way through...she studied education herself, so she knows what she's talking about).  That took about an hour and a half.  

Inside....Oozes Productivity

Then, feeling schmoozed out, I opted to do some CCFOF work instead of jumping into my NT paper.  THAT was a very good idea.  My job has ups and downs in terms of interest level of my assigned tasks, and right now it's DEFINITELY at a high point.  I have lots of things to do, and none of them seem pointless, and they're all a good change of pace and allow for creativity and correspondence with people all over the world.  I've actually been motivating a fair number of people to be prayer group leaders for this year's prayer campaign.  People email me random questions about stuff, and I turn it around on them to tell them how this or that would make them an AWESOME prayer group leader.  It's kind of fun.  In fact, YOU should be one.  I'm kidding...but really, you could be...You read my blog, after all, and what better way to get a feel for what I do in my work than to get involved???  Am I right???

OK, so anyway, after my 3 hours or so of productivity, I returned to the apartment very hungry (the coffee house baked goods are out of my realm of healthy eating at the present), and made a dinner of chicken, couscous, and green beans.  It was tasty.  Then, as the rest of the world tuned into the Super Bowl, I punched out a fairly good outline for my New Testament paper.  It still needs a good deal of work, but it's getting somewhere.  After the Super Bowl ended, I watched the new episode of Glee (yay!), and after THAT ended I spent FOREVER trying to plan out a healthy menu for this week so I can go grocery shopping tomorrow morning.  Cooking healthy is more expensive than cooking unhealthy, and that makes finding recipes very difficult when you're trying to keep to a budget.  I also don't have anything stocked up in my kitchen, because I've only gone shopping once since getting back from winter break, and the week of snow further cleaned out my cupboard.  It's frustrating, but I'll have food to eat besides chicken again.  If anyone has cheap, healthy recipes, send them my way...

I'm WAY past the midnight bedtime because grocery-list making took so long, and of course I have to post on the blog.  So sweet dreams everyone...I'll report back here again tomorrow.

Unapologetic Ranting.

Today was not a good day...at least, not until about 7:30pm.

I spent the bulk of the day absolutely hating Dallas.  This is a problem since I've committed to spend at least the next two years here.  Ironically, my day took a turn for the worse when I finally left the apartment.  The snow was rapidly melting into giant puddles; it looked like it was raining, but it was really just melted snow dripping from trees and the roof.  I had a really simple agenda: run by a mailbox to mail things that I planned to send out a week ago, pop into Michaels in search of non-lame silk roses to put in my AOII vase, and then spend the afternoon sitting in a coffee shop or bookstore reading for class.  Is that too much to ask?  I didn't think so...it wouldn't even require me to go further than a mile away from my apartment.

So I get out to my car and it's all grimy and disgusting with a palpable level of dirt caused by snow mixed with the completely ineffective sand that the Dallas Traffic Department felt would make some sort of difference (SALT, people!!  SALT!!!!).  Then, as the mailbox is located at the grocery store, getting my two envelopes in the mail box was like an Olympic triathlon, dodging cars and leaping over puddles.  Then I drove through parking lots (dodging cars all the while) to get to Michaels, and after finally finding a space a mile away, nearly fell on a sidewalk of solid ice that the shopping center had made no effort to clear.  The Michaels trip turned out to be a completely futile search anyway, so I went back to my car and as I was backing out of the space, some jerk pulls up right behind me and starts honking at me because I'm "in his way" (even though I started backing up before his majesty's arrival).  By this point, I was pretty frustrated with everything, so instead of yielding to this guys honk, I just sat there, half pulled out of the space, blocking the lane, until he figured out that if he backed up (which he had ample room to do) I would be able to pull out and we could all go on with our lives.  Then, I made efforts to go to two different places to just sit and read, but kept getting forced into the wrong lane by the ever-rude, ever-selfish, ever-dangerous Dallas drivers.  When I FINALLY made it to Half-Price Books (after almost an hour of driving on substandard road conditions in mostly pointless tasks...and never going more than 2 miles total) I went to the cafe to find a place to sit, set my eyes on the one remaining table, and then was beat to it by some fat woman and her dog.  WHY this woman had her dog in a bookstore is beyond me.  At this point, I gave up, and went back to my apartment (a 3 minute drive), and almost got hit by 4 cars at once.  Because again, people in Dallas are RUDE, SELFISH, and HORRIBLE DRIVERS.

And somewhere in the middle of all this, I decided: I hate this city.  If I wasn't bound to 2 more years of my program, I would move.  To anywhere but here.

Now the rational part of my mind acknowledges that today had certain extenuating circumstances.  First of all, I hadn't dealt with Dallas traffic in a good 4 days, so I'd had a break from remembering how ridiculous it is.  Second, almost everyone in Dallas is out driving just because they finally can get out of their houses.  Thirdly, everyone ELSE in Dallas is out trying to get their Super Bowl preparations done before tomorrow.  And finally, it is, after all, a Saturday afternoon in a heavily populated semi-suburban area of a major city.  What can you expect, really?

I've always classified myself as a city person.  My tastes run more to the museum and concert hall variety than outdoor adventures, and this leads me to prefer the city to the countryside.  After today though, I think I need to add a caveat: I am a SMALL city person.  I am a Lexington-size city person: it has things to do, it's walkable, and you won't have 20 near-accidents every time you get in your car.  The only way I can be a city person is if it has a good subway system, like Paris or Montreal or Washington DC.  If I can walk in a city, that's fine.  If I have to drive in it...forget about it.

Lately, several people have asked me what my post-Masters plans are.  At the moment, it's a completely blank slate...I think about the future, and I just see black in my mind, like the film reel of a movie suddenly cut out.  But I'll tell you this: as far as I can help it, my future will NOT include Dallas.  Even if I meet the love of my life here, we're moving.  Too bad for him.

Dallas has two years to get me to fall in love with it.  It better start trying harder; because right now, it's not doing a good job of winning me over.

A quick note of positivity: the day DID look up when my friend Miranda invited me out to see a movie with her.  We chose "The King's Speech."  It was EXCELLENT.  Absolutely excellent.  It's one of those movies that isn't just artfully done, but unfailingly intelligent - even in its humor.  Moreover, its deep character study is enough to touch the heart of anyone who has ever doubted themselves, or ever worried that they weren't good enough.  It's truly magnificent.  And it has Colin Firth, Helena Bonham-Carter, and Geoffrey Rush; you really can't go wrong with them.  I mean it - go see this movie.  Like, right now.

So that brightened up my day a bit.  The unfortunate thing is that my anger at the world kept me from doing any homework at all.  It's looking doubtful that I'll finish my Education reading by Tuesday...I might end up just skimming the chapters enough to answer the reflection questions that my teacher sent out.  I also have a Blackboard Post to do for my church history class, and a New Testament paper due Thursday...not to mention that I haven't touched my Prayer and Spirituality reading, which is for my Monday class.  After church tomorrow, I'm planning to hit the books for an all-homework day.  I may go out to a coffee shop during the Super Bowl...I imagine that those parts of Dallas might be a bit less crowded during that time.

Besides, football is lame.  Just like Dallas.