My communist dialect brings all the Christian boys to the yard.

I wish (ACTS 2, just sayin').  It's been a while since I've blogged. I suppose I should update you on how awesome I've been (again, I wish). Not much has been going on with me personally, but I'm just asking all of you to pray for my Grandma if you get the time. Anything is appreciated. And GOD HEARS OUR PRAYERS. (:

So, my first track meet is on Saturday. Can't say that I'm completely prepared for it. Not that I'm unprepared, but just not as ready as I should be. Like the fact that I don't have a jersey. Or real javelin shoes. Or my mark. Not like any of those things would really help me. Whatev. It'll just be an experiment this weekend, I guess.

Hope you have a glorious day.

Thoughts on a Perfectly Dreary Day

Today smells like ozone, cows, and remorse. That's what I get for living in Nebraska. I'm hoping the rain comes soon to wash away the stupid I've been clinging to for so long. Okay, I'm not exactly clinging; I'm just not pushing it away. I just woke up with a bad feeling in my stomach, like the feeling you get when you realize half of your exes are engaged. Okay, not really, but it's one of those punched-in-the-gut feelings which can be very similar to a lot of people. And by all accounts, it has been a good day. I got 3 papers back, and of all of them I'm very comfortable with my grade. I just feel some impending doom lurking overhead, which, of course, makes me a nervous wretch that nobody wants to be around. And honestly, I've hit the point where I just don't want to hurt anymore. I've put up with this for nearly 2 years, and you'd think that I'd have it under control. Oh, the joys of poor health and the literal achy heart. The arrival of the rain has been so prolonged. I just need this symbolic baptism, washing away the old, clearing the way for the new. I'm sick of feeling this way. I just want God to disencumber this area of my life. It's all in His will, though, so I'll continue being patient.

A Compilation of Unfortunate Ideas That Seemed to Make Sense at the Time.

Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes. Oscar Wilde


You may say that now, Mr. Wilde, but you don't know what I've just been through. Today's been one of those days, you know? Where nothing rolls in your favor and everyone and their dog is out to get you. Perhaps I'm being a little melodramatic and paranoid. Regardless of my paranoia, things haven't been working out too well for me these past 18 hours. Let me lay this all out for you:

1. Stayed up until 2 staring at my ceiling. Not sure why, maybe I was afraid it wouldn't be there when I woke up. I don't think my ceiling would just bail on me on a Sunday night.
2. Hit snooze, like, 20 times.
3. Once I finally woke up, as I was attempting to crawl out of my loft, I fell. And not just a slip, I fell and ate it hard. In the process, I'm pretty sure I pulled a hip flexor.
4. Took the longest shower I ever could. Resulted in me being late to class.
5. Didn't read the short story for Environmental Lit. gag.
6. [This one wasn't actually my doing] Brad Johnson ruined the end of Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury for me. I might as well not finish it.
7. Didn't go to my drawing class. Whatev.
8. Got caught up one www.cutewithchris.com. I'm helpless against cute animals and witty captions.
9. According to pitchfork.com, Bassnectar sucks and I listened to him today. We all know that what pitchfork says is truth.
10. Admitted to being a Royals fan. . . wait a second.
11. Eating in the caf at dinner today. Not even worth it.
12. Accidentally hit on some poor, defenseless skinny-guy. That was probably terrifying for him. So, anonymous skinny-guy, I'm sorry.
13. Listened to Rebecca Black's song "Friday."
14. Was 15 minutes late to practice. Oops.
15. Listened to "Friday" again in hopes that it could be better. It wasn't.
16. Failed to follow through at all during practice.
17. Touched sweaty Brad's face while he was doing abs. Awful. AWFUL.
18. Mixed a protein shake in a mason jar. It looked like baby puke in that jar and it became even more less appealing than it normally is.

That's as far as I've made it. I'll keep you posted on the rest of my misfortunes. Through all of this, however, I have maintained a joyful attitude because this is a day the Lord has made, so I will rejoice and be glad in it! Hope you're having a quacktastic day.

Habakkuk 3:18

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.

Why does all of my favorite stuff break?

I don't know what the deal is, but everything I love is breaking. Like my red wayfarers, this last fall, I was sitting there at church, and one of my friends reaches over and takes a look at them. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but when I reached for them to put them on when I was leaving, one of the arms (?) fell off. Needless to say, I was devastated. You don't find red wayfarers every day.

And today. As I was leaving a meeting, I pull on my jacket and walk back to Hansen, and when I get back my watch fell off of my wrist. Not like I hadn't latched it up right, but it had broken at where the watch face connects to the strap. And this wasn't any old watch. It was the orange one I bought in Ocean City. I LOVE this watch. I hope I can pull it back together. Until then, I won't know the time.

                                               

Yikes.

Lately, I've been weighed down by uncertainties. Like, weighed down a lot. The future scares the heck out of me. I've compiled a list of terrifying realizations, related to the future or not, they're still terrifying. 

1. I could potentially be graduating next December.
2. If that's the case, I won't get to compete in outdoor track.
3. I have 3 biggish writing assignments due on Thursday and I have yet to start. (instead I'll blog about them)
4. Will I be eligible for off-campus housing? And if not, how will I find a loophole?
5. I only have one beer left in my fridge.
6. I'm super out of shape. Hello, crappy season.
7. The recycling is eating the room, but the bin outside is covered in snow.
8. There's a disgusting spider web on the ceiling and I want nothing more than to get rid of it, but I'm far too short.
9. Everyone I know is too short, for that matter. You'd have to be a solid 9 feet tall to get that bad boy.
10. My elbow isn't improving.
11. It's almost flippin' March. What happened to February?
12. Stop Day is too far away.
13. I'm missing a wine glass.
14. I'm still sick. I want this cold gonezo.
15. I have a Christmas tree in my SUV . . . still.
16. This room looks like a war zone.
17. I can't find my mittens.
18. There's impending crappy weather and I need to start throwing that javelin.
19. I need to do laundry.
20. I haven't seen my puppies since January. BIG problem.

Daisy and June-bug

Aren't they beautiful?

And I miss my girls.

Laugh at my misfortune, chumps.

Kitschy.

Recently, Mairin, Molly, Sarah and I have been working on some off-campus living stuff and it has just made me think a lot about my own house someday. I can't wait to have a home that I can decorate to my tastes, and everything isn't beige, maroon and green like my mother's. Not that there was anything wrong or upsetting about that, it just isn't me. It's too planned out. I know, right? Shocking that something is too organized for me. . . or not really. I just want a living space that is filled with stories. Where did I get that? Who gave it to me? Why is it important to me? I want to carefully create a sloppy vintage look in my house/apartment/van down by the river. Something mildly avant-garde or kitschy, if you will (even though the latter has kind of a negative connotation, but whatev). And of course, I have some ideas, because the interwebs has a lot of great ideas. Thanks for the ideas, dear, sweet interwebs.

I mean, really, how great is this clock?

Those are just a couple of ideas. Other things I want in my dream house:  a library or built-in bookcase, a breakfast nook, a back porch, enough room for big dogs, and a dungeon (lol). Are there any listings in the Lincoln area? Hope you're having a great Saturday.

Love and things of that nature.

Well, let's face it - I'm obsessed with love. All of it. True love, puppy love, brotherly love, it doesn't matter as long as it is love. And I can't wait to be in love for that matter. Sadly, it's starting to control my mind and actions. I've become a love junkie. Somehow, even though I know that God loves me and has a splendid plan for me, I've grown impatient with the idea of Mr. Right being out there. He's probably just jacking around until we bump paths while ordering coffee and accidentally mix up our drinks or something serendipitous like that. Or waiting in line for the doors to open at a concert. Or in the weight room. Or in traffic. I'm not picky about that. Just the idea that he could be out there is killing me. I just need to be faithful to God. Until the fateful day that we meet or realize that we're made for each other, I'll just hang out, being awesome or something. Marvel in these lovely pictures for a bit.

I've composed a list of things I'd truly enjoy for my future husband.

A fusband, if you will.

1. Must be a God-fearing and God-loving man, who will always love God more than he loves me. Even though he'll love me a whole lot.

The rest of these are just preferences, but it's whatever.

2. Preferably politically left-winged, but if he's not, we just won't talk politics. Easy as that.

3. Baseball fan, and will not make fun of me for being a Royals fan.

4. Loves his family. And mine.

5. Will not make fun of me for drinking PBR.

6. Must like big dogs because I plan on owning a couple.

7. Taller than me. And if you know me at all, you'll know that I appreciate the heavier guys.

Roll tide.

8. Will watch horror movies with me. And won't make fun of me for believing in ghosties.

9. Appreciates my eclectic music.

10. Loyalty is key.

I want something like this: wildly euphoric and vulnerable, but comfortable knowing that this person will never intentionally hurt you in any way. I think I can wait for that.