Christmas List 2011

Yes, I'm doing this again.
Mostly because it tells my parents what I want and why I want it.
And it gives you, my readers, a chance to prove how much you love me.
Don't feel obligated.

1. Kindle Touch 3G. I think. I've come to the conclusion that it would be more practical for carrying around than all of my books, and it would be so much cooler to pull out in class. And the features for the Touch 3G sound amazing.

2. A new computer. Or for my computer to miraculously work again. I can't open iTunes, Chrome, or Spotify, and I can't leave it on and unused for very long without it freezing. It's getting very annoying.

3. Cake decorating supplies like pastry bags, tips, sprinkles, sparkles, dragees, etc. I have a wedding to bake for next summer and I want to do it right.

4. Knitting needles. I can only work on one project at a time right now, and that is not gonna work for much longer.

5. This Is Not A Book, by Keri Smith. Smith has a whole series of non-traditional journals that I love. Each page gives instructions that cause the reader to be creative and fun.

6. Flour, sugar, eggs, oil, milk, cream, butter, cream cheese, salt, baking soda, baking powder, espresso powder, peanut butter, high-quality chocolate. Really, anything I will need to test recipes for the wedding. A lot of it.

7. Send animals through Heifer International.

8. Plane tickets to London for February 26-March 3. Melisa is going to be at Oxford next semester and I want to visit her. And go back to the country that still has my heart.

9. A way to get to Portland, OR and a place to stay once I get there. July.

10. A car.

11. A knife set. Not in a wooden block.

This is not an exhaustive list.
And it's really selfish.
Except for the animals thing.
But this is my blog, so I'll post what I want.
Better post coming soon.

old notecards

About six months ago I sat at SG, planning to do homework but getting distracted.
I was thinking too much.
I was searching for anything to do that meant I didn't have to do homework.
So I pulled out my Crayola Twistables Colored Pencils and a stack of 3x5 cards.
I started writing, sketching, journaling, confessing, dreaming.
I was angry at boys but still wanted to love them.
I was confused.
I was hurting and broken after a long couple of months.

My friend Brian came over and talked to me.
I let him read the cards and he gave me some good, practical advice.
And then I put the cards back into my bag and didn't think about them.

I pull them out occasionally and laugh at the things I was thinking.
But they remind me of my hurt and frustration.
I looked at them a few minutes ago.
I was reminded of my appreciation for a friend who came into my life at just the right moment.
I was reminded of what I thought was love for another friend who is not really a friend.
I was reminded of the confusion of that time.

"Too many thoughts to decide
which ones to write down.
Too little certainty to think
about anything for too long.
Too much heartache to hope
for my cloudy mind to clear.
Too near to him to let any-
thing show or to even speak.
Too much love that is not really
love to know what is really real."
4-25-11

Oh, that night.
Oh, this night of honesty.
Oh, frustration.

Sometimes my history books make me laugh.

"The assumption is twofold: the American female was supposed to be so infinitely lovable and provocative that a healthy male could barely control himself when in the same room with her, and the same girl, as she "conies out" of the cocoon of her family's protectiveness, is so palpitating with undirected affection, so filled to the brim with tender feelings, that she fixes her love on the first person she sees. She awakes from the midsummer night's dream of adolescence, and it is the responsibility of her family and society to see that her eyes fall on a suitable match and not some clown with the head of an ass. They do their part by such restrictive measures as segregated (by sex and/or class) schools, dancing classes, travel, and other external controls. She is required to exert the inner control of obedience. The combination forms a kind of societal chastity belt which is not unlocked until the marriage partner has arrived, and adolescence is formally over."

-Barbara Welter
Quoted in Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States

Why do I write?

I write because I need affirmation.
I write because I want people to know who I am.
I write because I have something to say and I do not have a natural platform from which to say it.

I write when I cannot speak the words out loud.
I write for healing.
I write to understand my thoughts and to help others understand my thoughts.

I write because I have to.
I write because I can.
I write because I get lost in my thoughts unless I can see them.

I write because I am narcissistic.
I write because sometimes it's the only way I know how to deal with my life.
I write because it's part of who I am and where I've come from.

I write because sometimes, I feel like there are no words.
But when I write, they appear.

When did we get so old?

I suppose "old" isn't quite the right word.
More like "grown up" or "far along in life."

I was home last weekend for Fall Break.
On Saturday, I went to a bridal shower.
Most of the bridal showers I have gone to up until this point in my life were for family and family friends.
Not this one, though.
No, this was for someone I met because we were in the same class in fourth grade.
She voted for me for class president and I loved her hair that was about a mile long.
Her name is Abigail, and when we were juniors in high school she started dating the guy (Josh) with whom she is going to spend the rest of her life.

We spent a lot of time talking about when they were going to get married and we were planning her wedding and asking all kinds of questions.
And then we made a rule that we wouldn't talk about it again until she had the ring on her finger.

One day last summer, we were all (our group of friends that has been together for years) going to a park to take pictures.
We met at Abbi's house to carpool, and while we were there Elyzabeth asked whether Josh had proposed yet.
"NO!" was the very quick response.
My eyes went immediately to her left ring finger.
But she had turned her ring around so I couldn't tell whether it was the promise ring that she had been wearing for a couple years or something new.

We spent a while at the park, and then went to a local ice cream shop.
"So, Elyzabeth, I lied to you earlier."
YES!! Abigail was engaged!!
We screamed and all eyes went to our tables.

We all knew that this day was coming, but even when it did, it didn't quite sink in.
Then I got a text that said "December 18, 2011. Put it on the calendar, cause that's when this girl is getting married!!!!!!!!!!!"
Yes, I still have the message on my phone. Yes, she sent it in February.
It started to get real at that point.
The rest of us started talking about dresses and dates and all that.

And we kept saying "I can't believe that we're old enough to get married."
Granted, Abbi is about six months older than any of the rest of us, and more than a year older than I am.
But still. I've known her since FOURTH GRADE!!
But, she's one of the only people our age who I think is actually ready to get married.
(Much more so than several who are already married.)

So, ask she opened gifts at the shower, I was struck by the fact that, about two months later, she'd be married.
Yes, in two months, Abigail and Josh will have been married for two days.

It's weird. In the best way possible, don't get me wrong.
But this is the girl who loved riding her scooter and had about a thousand Barbies and watched "Shrek" with me about fifty times.
She's all grown up, no longer living with her parents, and making whatever plans you make in the two months before your wedding.

I love this stage of life, and I hate this stage of life. But we're all doing it together.
And I am so thankful for that.

root beer, marshmallows, and fire.

There is a house on campus that is occupied by 13 guys.
They are Campus Safety's favorite people.
That is a false statement.

Tonight, they had their annual Benton House Root Beer Keg Party.
Yep, you read that correctly. A real keg filled with root beer.
"What? It's not real beer? Why even stay?"
For the fun. Duh.

I have been invited every year that I've been at Bethel, but haven't gone.
Until this year. I figured it was about time to have some fun.
So, after we beat Grace in soccer (holla!), Casey and I headed over to the party.
Good life choice.

It was like any college party, I suppose.
Except for the total lack of alcohol.
And it was super fun.

After a while, we went up to the roof, which was a terrifying process for me as I have zero fence climbing skills.
Those on the ground chose that time to begin a marshmallow war.
We were defenseless and without ammo, so we caught what we could and threw them back.
Straight up chaos.

After the madness had died down a bit, we climbed down and sat around the fire pits.
A lot of people had left by this time, and about half of those who were still there lived in the house.
Stuff was burned, including a couple hands.

It got to be 12:15 and I realized that I was the only female still around.
And water balloons were starting to be thrown.
So I left.

But I had a fantastic evening.
I finally felt like I was doing something that upperclassmen do.

And I now really wish I had attempted a keg stand, even though it probably would have been a completely humiliating experience.

If only I had the guts.

"Hi. I just need to start by saying that I never do this.
I never just walk up to a guy that I don't really know and start talking to him.
We aren't even to the point of a nodded greeting yet.
I'm not entirely sure that you even really know my name.
But I need to tell you this.

I have observed you over the past few weeks.
I think that you have some amazing qualities.
Other than being cute and funny, I mean.
You clearly love Jesus.
And you love people and I think that you want to show Jesus to people.
I like that.

For some reason, I am reassured when I see your face.
And I want to see it more often.
I want to get to know you for real.
I don't want to decide yet whether I like you, because that's just not fair.

But seriously, I don't do things like this.
It took everything in me to even say 'hi.'
I don't know what you want to do with this information,
But I needed you to know.

Um. Okay. Bye."

Yeah. If only.