a very short "in one week" post.

in one week, I will be in my own bed.
I will probably not be awake.

and that will be lovely.

my favorite study group.

every few weeks I have a psychology test.
and before that test, I meet with my study group.

a brief introduction to the group, in alphabetical order by first name:

Alex Cox
-HATES that he has to take this class, and therefore put it off until his final semester.
-often shares anecdotes about his world travels.
-LOVES world football. because "soccer" is such an American word.
-attacked my facebook and phone tonight.
-didn't eat any of my delicious orange-chocolate cake tonight?

Calvin Hirschy
-is a philosophy and math double major. that describes him fairly well.
-is perfectly content to sit in the library studying for hours.
-plays the piano quite well.
-is a quiet antagonist.
-could ruin your social life if you let him.
-attacked Cassie's facebook and phone tonight.
-always eats my baked goods.

Cassie Eberly
-is pro-chivalry. like, pretty much the opposite of my views.
-actually has a tutor for the class, and shares her studying with the rest of us.
-flung a blob of cake and frosting at me, aiming for my mouth, and hit me square in the chest. from seven feet away. we all nearly died of laughter.
-very much wanted to frost the cake perfectly. unfortunately, the cake was not cooperating.
-hates everything I do. :-)

Hope Swanson
-sings only slightly less often than Alex.
-baked a wonderful orange-chocolate cake tonight, that was not enjoyed by everyone.
-was somewhat disappointed.
-"has officially been frosted by Cassie Eberly and is looking quite stunning as a fruitcake. Great study times. Woohoo!!!"
-watched as Alex wrote the above statement as her facebook status.
-learns from the things Study Group laughs at, more than what is discussed.

Kevin Engel
-is an art major, changed from math education.
-IS ALWAYS DOODLING OR MAKING FLOWERS OUT OF CHIP BAGS OR DOING SOME OTHER ARTISTIC THING.
-sure does know how to kill a joke. and he's proud of it.

There are more things I could say about everyone, but for the sake of this post, this is all that really matters.

Tonight Cassie and I had dinner together at 7 and then she left and I was going to write.
Or bake cupcakes. No, I don't have any cupcake tin liners.
Maybe I'll make Surprise Meringues. No, I don't have nearly enough time for that.
Maybe I'll try to make cupcakes without the liners. No, I'll make a cake.
No, I'll just have everyone come over here so I can make the meringues.
I'll just make a cake and sneak it into the library. Ooo!!! An orange-chocolate cake!!
Wait, the RAs are all in their meeting. I guess I'll just go over to the library.
(It is now 9:00.)
Calvin and I got to the library and found Kevin already there. We decided that we should meet in the kitchen so I could make my cake.
I texted Alex and Cassie and let them know.
Got back to Sailor, had Julie open the kitchen for us.
I preheated the oven, mixed the cake, and got it on its way to baked deliciousness.
(It is now around 9:30.)
We all talked and sang about "Moulin Rouge," life, psychology, music, sex, and everything in between.
Half an hour later, the cake was finished.
We kept talking about everything.
My timeline is a little sketchy for the rest of this.
I think after about 20 minutes Cassie sent me to get frosting. I brought it back and she tried to frost the cake. The frosting had been in the fridge and, even though it was the whipped kind, it didn't spread very well. The top of the cake came off with the frosting.
Cassie pretended that she was going to fling it at me, and I decided that she should try to get it into my mouth.
FAILURE!!
We got all the guys to watch, the spatula went back, forward, the frosting flew off and hit me, as I said before, square in the chest.
Funniest thing that's happened in a while. Hardest I've genuinely laughed in weeks, I think.
Cassie, Kevin and I were all on the floor.
Calvin and Alex, who had been focused on "Linus and Lucy," were both consumed with laughter.
It was wonderful.

We got back to an almost-focused state.
Then Cassie heard "Phantom of the Opera" coming from the workout room.
It was ice dancing.
We went to watch, letting the door closed behind us.
Not a wise decision.
The number finished and I went to go get more cake.
The door was locked.
Alex was sitting at my computer.
I ran around to the other door only to find that it, too was locked.
He was on my facebook, and I could only assume that Calvin, who was at Cassie's computer, was on hers.
My status was being changed and I was joining groups and I couldn't do anything about it.
I walked away for about a minute and returned to the window. This time they had our phones.
This is always terrifying for me.
Thankfully, the guy RAs were all leaving the office, so I had Lucas unlock the door.
"There's a whole bunch of people in there."
"I know, and they won't let us in."
As soon as I walked in the door, Alex, who was trying to send a message, more or less ran away from me.
I went to open the door for Cassie and we both began to do damage control.
I got my phone back just in time to cancel the message he was trying to send to my friend Dave.
It was an almost risque picture of Calvin with the text "best thing ever."
That I had canceled the message was a great disappointment to our antagonists.
(Oh dear, I'm getting tired. The big words and complicated structure are going to get worse if I don't stop soon.)
At this point (getting close to 12:00), most hope of actually studying was gone.
We discussed a few more points, listened to more music, threw some chocolate around, and didn't eat cake.

So, we have a great night to remember while we're taking our test in less than 12 hours.
Hopefully we'll remember what little psychology we actually talked about.
(Which was probably more than I think we give ourselves credit for.)

Now I have to read Cantos IV-X and do a worksheet for 11:00.

Dear Everything Bagel,
I know that you are enjoying your time in the cooler at Sufficient Grounds.
I'm sure that it's a very nice place for you.
However, I am looking forward to eating you in about seven hours.
Get excited about being sliced, toasted, and covered with cream cheese.
Love,
Hope

Please forgive any errors in this post, whether factual or grammatical. I'm sleep-deprived.

Good night.

just call me Amanda Woods.

I'm not good at expressing emotions.
Or, to put a positive spin on it, I'm wonderful at putting up a completely blank face.
I can show happiness and excitement very easily, but when it comes to being sad or angry or frustrated or annoyed, I hold everything inside. I use words all the time to express my frustration, but what I say often completely lacks true emotions. I let the sadness and frustration build up inside of me for months.
Until I let myself become sleep-deprived. Working a show is good for that.

Allow me to back up and explain a little bit.
Through elementary and middle school, I was the one who cried about everything. I was the sensitive, emotional, wimpy, etc. girl.
When I got to high school, I didn't want that reputation anymore. I started hiding everything. I still felt the emotions, but I rarely cried.

Through my sin struggle between sophomore and senior years, I withdrew even more. No one really knew much of anything about me. At CDYC last summer, I was able to talk to my small group leader about the struggle I had been hiding, and have been able to talk about it more since then. I'm overall more open about things now.

But I hate being comforted, so I am careful about the amount of upset feelings I show. It has become a struggle to truly show my emotions. I can describe my feelings quite well, but when it comes to having outward emotional reactions, I feel almost like a failure.

In the past couple of weeks, a lot of things have gone wrong. Nothing too major, but it's been building. I haven't been able to really process it and let it all go, not that I do that very well anyway. I have been feeling a little off and frustrated and emotional lately. A couple days ago, I realized that I hadn't cried, really cried, since Christmas Break. I know that there are other causes behind my weird feelings of late, but I'm pretty sure most of it has been coming from my inability to release my feelings in a healthy way. I've noticed myself becoming more irritable and withdrawn in the past week, and that bothered me. I hate lashing out at people.

Last night, I wanted desperately to cry. I tried everything from listening to The Fray to reenacting the scene from "The Holiday" in which Cameron Diaz's character is trying to make herself cry. I needed something to remind me that I am a human and am capable of experiencing and displaying emotion. I was so close. I could feel it in my face. But the tears never came.

I was frustrated about it today.

I have a psychology test on Tuesday and my study group was planning to meet tonight. I decided that I wanted to feel good about myself when we sat down to work. I was looking nice and was getting ready to go.

Then, my daddy texted me. He asked if I was doing ok.
I said that I was great, other than waiting for something to push me over the edge so I could cry.
About a minute later, he called me.
That was enough to make the tears come. What a relief!!
(Thanks, Daddy.)

After we hung up, I though about having to walk over to the library. I hate wearing coats, but the outfit I was wearing would have required one. So I decided to change, choosing comfort over looking good. I walked out of my room to head to the library, I felt wonderful. I could breathe easily again. I wasn't feeling like I needed to hide anything. I was able to enjoy spending time with my study group, even though we spent most of the time talking about not-psychology. We had a great time talking about everything from world football (because "'soccer' is such an American word") to "stop-smoking rubber bands" vs. stop smoking rubber bands to what kind of parents we will be. And I only got genuinely frustrated once. And I didn't hide it.

I think we all just need to cry sometimes.

breakfast with Carl Orff

I'm listening to Carl Orff's Carmina Burana as I sit at my little table.
I have to keep myself from laughing out loud at the man's creativity (and the humor of the text: it's pretty much about drinking and sex),
it's the recording from 2006 when Heartland Chamber Chorale, the South Bend Chamber Singers, and the Fort Wayne Children's Choir collaborated to perform the work at various venues around Northern Indiana.
(I was in the Children's Choir.)
Since I don't have any homework that I need to be doing right now, I'm reading the translation.
from "Floret silva nobilis:"

Ubi est antiquus	Where is the lover
meus amicus?	I knew? Ah!
Hinc equitavit,	He has ridden off!
eia, quis me amabit?	Oh! Who will love me? Ah!

Because I've always had the German/Latin text in front of me, I've never really paid any attention to the translation and how the music helps to paint the picture.
In this section of the song, the women sing the first two lines, then the music changes and sounds like a riding song as the men sing "Hinc, hinc, hinc...equitavit...tavit, tavit..." and fade out. Like the lover riding off.
Then the women come back in, clearly distraught.

I had never noticed that.

I am falling in love with this work all over again.

I'm just doing my job.

I was on props crew for "Jane Eyre" this weekend.

I was regularly thanked for what I was doing and told that I was doing a great job. This confused me. I was simply doing what I was supposed to do. I was just doing my job.
I don't handle being thanked very well. I just don't ever know what to say. I usually just laughed and said said "oh, no problem. you're doing great, too." Which was most definitely a true statement. I don't think there was anyone who wasn't doing well during this show.

I'm glad to be appreciated and acknowledged, but I feel like I shouldn't be thanked so often.
I'm just doing my job.

Then I stop to think of it as an actress.
I know how important prop people are.
I value them. I appreciate them.
I know that they make my job easier.

I think of it from the perspective of Werby, my ASM.
She has enough to think about without having to deal with getting everyone's props ready.
I help her.

As a prop girl, I do everything I can to make others happy.
I try to reduce their stress.
I often had props prepared several scenes before they were needed.
I hope this was helpful.

I love working backstage. It gives me perspective.
Not as an actor, because there has never been a time when I didn't work both sides of the curtain, but as an audience member.
I go to productions and see how flawless things are, and I can pretend that it just happens that way.
Or I can think about how much work is happening in places I can't see.
I can think about the people dressed in black, on their toes, ready to move set pieces or hand props to actors or help with quick costume changes.
I know that productions take a lot of hard work.
I know that everyone in the playbill has an important job, and that each of those jobs is necessary for the success of the show.
I can't pretend that productions put themselves together.

So, I know that what I did was important and helpful. I know that I did good work.
I know that someone else could have done my job just as well as I did, but I'm glad it was me.

I'm glad I got to work with such wonderful people.
It was a great show.

And in 38 days (yeah, it's 38 days), we will put on another great show.

a week has come and gone.

last night was the final performance of "Jane Eyre."
we took down the set, put props and costumes away, set up the pit platform, and picked up the spike tape.
around 1:30, we headed over to Tradewinds and Ian and Jon got to know the caffeinated and sleep-deprived version of me. the one who puts spike tape on her face and goes through phases of energy. one minute I was laughing way too loudly, and the next I was silent. the next minute we were talking seriously about literature. so great. probably the best after-show meal I've had.
it was a great run. I'm incredibly proud to have been a part of this production.

as much as I complained about the story line, the story of the show and the message that rang in my heart as Asha's voice rang through the auditorium is one of forgiveness. I'm not sure that I would have been able to forgive Edward, but I love that Jane can. And I know that that kind of forgiveness is what we are called to as Christians. So, I guess I should try to offer as much grace as I am given every day.

it was so great to see my parents on Friday.
we went out to lunch at Famous Dave's and did some shopping at Super Target.
Dad turned in one of my essays for World Lit, and Mama and I went shopping again.
I really miss shopping with my mom.
I really miss my parents in general.

right before I saw my parents, I got the Save The Date card for my brother's wedding.
oh. my. word. I was SO excited!!!!
I can't wait. I LOVE weddings, and this one has been a long time coming.

and now I sit in The Acorn. not my usual writing location, but SG is closed on Sundays and I just can't do anything productive in my room.

in one week.

I will try not to cry as I write this.

"Jane Eyre" is next weekend.
my parents are coming to the performance on Friday night.
since I don't have classes on Fridays, I will get to spend some time with them before the show.
my mom told me that she's taking me shopping.
I'm really excited.
I haven't seen my family since break, and I won't be going home until Spring Break.
for some people (i.e. the international students) this is normal, and it's a little unfair for me to say this.
but I'm used to seeing my family all the time.
I miss them.
so, one week from today, I will be with my parents.

I have a lot to do before then.
in one hour I will be at dry tech rehearsal. "All scene changes, all the time."
tomorrow is wet tech. we will be rehearsing for most of the day.
then I think I'm going to several Burger Kings to obtain crowns.
Sunday I have church, babysitting, Agape Fire, and watching a movie with a friend.
more rehearsals next week, the show opens on Thursday morning for the home schools.
shows Thursday night, Friday night, Saturday afternoon, and Saturday night.
strike until late.
then I will need sleep. badly.

but the show isn't the only thing going on in my life.
I still have classes next week and, unlike high school, I can't coast in college.
rehearsals happen later here, and because of my schedule and time management failure, I end up awake at 2:00 in the morning reading for my literature class.
I think I'm expected to read all of Till We Have Faces by Thursday in class.
but I have to be at the show during that class.
I feel like I can't win.
I just want it to be one week from now.

if I weren't a theatre person, I think it would be worse.
I was an English Ed major when I scheduled my classes, and I needed a media lab.
Drama Production was the only one that would fit.
when I switched, I could have dropped the class, but I was already dropping Ed Ped (smirk. Ed Ped.)
I'm the only non-theatre major or minor in the class, and on the first day no one knew what to do with me.
I said "I'm a theatre person, I understand."
as I go to rehearsals, I realize how true that is.
I love this stress and busyness.
I love watching as the actors and directors and stage managers (I'm going to throw the ASMs and props mistress into this category) work together to make this show as good as it can be.
I love the way everyone is coming together and realizing that they have six days to get this ready for an audience.
I don't know that a non-theatre person (someone who doesn't have theatre experience or someone who doesn't enjoy theatre) could stand this.

I might get frustrated.
I might snap at people who don't deserve it.
I might actually end up punching Nate/Alex in the face.
(I hope that doesn't happen, but they're doing well enough at the role that I've been getting genuinely upset.)
but I will persevere.
because I get to see my parents in one week.

"My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness."

a future full of doing what I love.

I know, this is my third post today.
get over it. I need to write this.

when I say that I don't want a career, I am not saying that I don't want a job.
by "career" I mean a profession in which one desires to progress.
I mean a full time job that ends in retirement.
I mean the kind of job that gives six weeks of maternity leave and two weeks of paid vacation each year.
I don't want that, not because I don't think women should have jobs, but because I think I shouldn't have a job.
by "think" I mean to imply leading from God, thank you.

this does not mean that I am going to give up on the things that I love.
-music and theatre will always play a huge role (yeah, notice the pun, even if the grammar is a little sketchy) in my life. God has given me this love and talent, and I will use it as He leads me.

-food usually makes people happy.
I like making people happy.
I will make food for people.

-I am a little bit obsessive about making formal writing seem professional and intelligent.
I love literature.
I love high school-age students.
I have loved going over papers with my friends, dissecting each paragraph and sentence in order to clearly state the intended meaning.
tutoring high school students in English seems to be a perfect fit.
(no, I don't always follow the rules of English in my posts. I follow the rules of my own writing style.)


so, don't get the wrong idea about me. I'm not planning to be the wife who depends on her husband for every financial need. I do want to have a job.
and I'm not going to stop using the talents and passions that God has given me.
please don't misunderstand me.
I'm not just at college to find a man and get my Mrs. degree.
I'm here to learn. I'm here to gain experience.
I'm here because this is where God wants me right now.
and that is the only thing that I know for sure.

for all the future teachers in the room.

as I sat in my literature class today, I did not expect to feel sad.
we just began reading Till We Have Faces.
I was excited. I get to work on one of my goals for 2010 while doing homework.
but we weren't talking about TWHF yet. we were still talking about The Odyssey. 
Robby asked us to talk about the most helpful exercise we had done in class.
Kari mentioned the proems we had written earlier in the semester.
Robby talked about how important it is to have students write about themselves.
he addressed the future teachers in the room, telling them that this was a good idea.
how can you teach someone if you don't know him or her?

I felt strangely sad and I knew exactly why.
a few months ago, that would have been directed at me.
I would have taken note of it and made it a part of my plan for every first day of school.

but now, after changing my major and having a completely new vision for my life, it took time for me to understand how that relates to my future.
then it hit me, I'm probably still going to be working with students.
if I do tutor high school students in English, I will need to know them.
I will need to find out how they think and learn and come to understand concepts.
I will need to determine where to begin and what concepts to focus on.
I will need them to write for me about themselves.

and so, my sadness quickly passed and was replaced by the hope of a bright future:
a future full of doing what I love.

and that's what my next post is going to be about, because I tend to not clearly communicate how I see my future.

he's a really great guy

that's what I walked away thinking today.
a friend of mine held the gate open for me as I was leaving SG this morning.
he was on his way in; we were going in opposite directions.
he had to stand there for a few seconds before I got there.
"Thank you!!"
"How are you today, Hope?"
quick decision: how much do I say? Do I really tell this guy how I am? No.
sigh "I'm good."
"No, you're not."
"I'm just tired."
and I walked to class.

but I couldn't help thinking "wow, that was really nice of him."
he didn't have to hold the gate.
he could have just said "hi."
I wouldn't have noticed if he had just let me keep walking.
but he took the time to notice my sigh.
he seemed to genuinely care.

I probably could have stood there and given him a list of everything that was going wrong in my life, which included spilling coffee on my table, my phone, my computer, and my jeans about an hour before this encounter. (by the way, about an hour ago, I spilled half a can of Cherry Coke Zero on my computer cord, my phone, and a small pile of stuff by my bed. it's not really my day.)
I probably could have complained to him about all the petty grievances I have with the day-to-day happenings in my life.
but I didn't need to.
I could just appreciate his kindness.

it has made me think, though.
what if everyone noticed and asked about the non-verbal and sub-verbal (sighs, throat clearings, other non-word sounds) cues that occur in conversation?
what if we all genuinely cared about the answers?
what if, when asked, we were willing to open up about the reasons for those cues?
what if we made an effort to carry one another's burdens, and not cling to and hide behind our own?
we'd start having real conversations.
we'd get to know each other.
we'd learn how great it is to "do life together."

and to you, Great Guy (and you know who you are), thank you.
not just for holding the gate, but for giving me a glimmer of hope for humanity.

my little table at Sufficient Grounds

when I was leaving the Great Room tonight to come over here, I told my friend Travis that I would probably end up writing. so I'll write.

in the past couple of weeks I have started to sit at the same table when I come here.
it's close to the counter, next to a window, and near the sugar/cream/lids/sleeves/honey/stirrers station.
also, I could lean back onto the trash can.
from where I sit, I can see everyone who comes in to order.
I can hear snippets of conversations.
I can learn the names of my fellow students as they come to pick up their drinks and food.
when I face away from the rest of the tables, I can read and write and think without being distracted.
if anyone is watching me, he/she can see that I spend an unnecessary amount of time on facebook.
he/she can see how often I write.
he/she can take note of my horrible posture.
when I face the tables, which I don't usually do, I can people watch.
I can write about what I'm noticing.
I can make up stories about the people I see, whether I know them or not.

I like my table, even if it's too small for everything I usually bring to work on.
even if it's not very inviting.
even if the entire room can see what I'm doing.
it's my little space.
my little table at Sufficient Grounds.