p.s.

In all those "muddlings" of mine, I wasn't depressed or even necessarily down on myself. Just trying to be better. By the end of the drive I actually felt happy and hopeful!

Yesterday I went with Hope Haven on an outing to Spencer. We had a 15 passenger van, COMPLETELY full so our driver never went more than 50 mph. I sat in the back and just about all the clients fell asleep, so I just looked out the window and thought. I haven't had time to just think in a while, so I had plenty to think about.

I thought about my fundamentals class and how I've realized through some self-reflection assignments that I am pretty lazy. I think about stuff - how I wish the world were different, how I wish I were different, how I wish some of my relationships were different, etc.. - but I rarely do much about it. So I thought about what I could do to at least change me and improve relationships.

I thought about how selfish I am and how much I focus on myself and talk about myself. I wondered how on earth I could get myself to remember to forget myself and to focus on other people. People think about themselves by default, but thinking about other people first and remembering to be truly kind and generous and selfless takes effort. You have to be intentional about it. You have to remember to be intentional about it, at least until you've done it so much it becomes a habit. So how can I remember? Tie a string on my finger?

I thought about how I love hearing people who understand music talking about music because I keep hoping some of that knowledge and understanding will rub off on me. I love music, but have a hard time talking about it. Sometimes I want to just sit down and listen to it. REALLY listen to it! I want to spend a weekend in some isolated cabin where I can spend the time researching the story of the musicians, listening to the lyrics of the musicians, and getting to know the music. Then I had a moment of shame. Here I am wishing I could spend hours and hours listening, studying, and getting to know good musicians and their music, but when have I desired to spend a weekend reading and studying my Bible to get to know God? How lame.

I thought about how I don't slow down enough. I don't take walks and enjoy the beauty around me enough. I don't find pictures in the clouds, or make angels in the snow, or sing out loud enough. I should get my bike out of storage.

I thought about other things too, but those I'll save for myself. (Not to be selfish.)

sometimes life's okay.

Last night turned out to be one of the most fun nights I've had in a while! I don't know what made it so different.. maybe it was the fact that it was not planned, or the fact that it wasn't dragged out too long, or that I hung out with some of my favorite people, or that my homework was done and I could just go out and have fun without feeling bad about it... Whatever the reason, I had a great night! Went to docs, had some coke and rum, talked with some good friends, saw Bekah Oudman again, ducked out early with a bit of a buzz and a high spirit, went to Alvin and Dan's for the first time, had banana-boat disguised as some kind of tropical rum, played rook and actually won, and went home still buzzed but not over-the-top. However, my apologies to anyone who had to put up with me those last couple hours... I may have been a little over-jolly.

one month until the best "holiday" of the year - April Fools!! Yeah, baby, yeah! We should go big this year.

oh shoot.

Last night I went to Steph Bloomendaal's house to hang out. Cal Henderson was there. He had a Nerf/dart gun of sorts and was shooting everyone else with it for at least an hour straight. So finally Steph and I got out her airsoft gun and were going to go shoot him with it, but he caught wind of our idea and ran away. Baby. So I had this loaded pellet gun and sat down on the couch... and I wondered how much those things hurt anyway. So I asked. Matt said "depends how many layers you're wearing and how loose your clothes are." I looked down at my leg which I had crossed man-style and thought 'it can't be that bad. I have two layers on, one of them being jeans and the bottom of my pants are loose.' So I shot my calf. Barely felt it. I said "That didn't hurt at all!" Matt said "shoot your thigh." So I did. "That didn't- OH MY GOODNESS, THAT STINGS LIKE A MOTHER!!!"

Today I woke up with a nice little pellet-sized welt on my thigh...

laughing out loud

I hate having great stories I'm not allowed to tell. But I guess it's okay when a revised and acceptable version also exists and is entertaining enough.
Hey, let me tell you a story... there's no other version... really... :S

Prestory: setting = El Paso (big city where blondes are probably the minority)

So my Dad and Larissa (my 11 yr old sister) wanted to go play tennis, so they started biking to the park. They had to cross the street (maybe a somewhat large street?) at some point, so Larissa, who was behind my dad at the time, crossed over, but Dad didn't see. He also didn't see her ride up ahead of him on the other side of the street. So when he looked back to check on her and did not see her anywhere, he turned his bike right around and booked it home. Larissa saw him doing all this and tried to get his attention, waving her arms and screaming at him "Dad, Dad! I'm right here!" but he didn't hear her. So when he got home he burst through the door yelling "Pat! [my mom] Pat call 911! She vanished!!" Now you have to understand something - Dad is a reasonable/rational man. He is not usually the type to worry and jump to such awful conclusions so quick. Mom is. She also knows how Dad is. So if Dad says call 911, I can only imagine how Mom's heart must have jumped. She immediately got on the phone calling the police and Dad went back out to look again! Of course in the mean time Larissa had followed Dad back home, though she couldn't keep up, and Dad found her on his second search and there were probably lots of hugs and tears and sighs of relief all around, minus Larissa who just gave a sort of sheepish half-smile/shrug and said "I couldn't help it."

I know this must have been a horrible experience, especially for Mom who was really given no context as to what happened, just told to call the cops! So when Mom told me about this, I felt a bad. ...for about two seconds, and then that empathy gave way to EXTREME amusement! :) I know, I'm a horrible person and I shall rot in hell for this, but as Mom was telling me what happened, I laughed right out loud for almost a whole minute!

oh boy.

Today one of my classes got moved to the computer lab on the third floor of the campus center. I got there a bit early and decided to try to do something with my crazy mass of previously-braided-and-now-crimpy-as-hell hair, so I went to the bathroom to use the mirror. After fussing with my hair for about five minutes (a completely worthless endeavor, btw) I spotted something in the corner of the mirror. "What's that behind me? A urinal?!! crap."

Ggrrrrrrr!!!

In email received last night from "James Mahaffy":

Fellow Zoologists,

I have caught something over the weekend and don't believe I will be able to have class on Monday. Hopefully I don't have what our Brother Anton had.

We will pick up Monday's material on Wednesday.

Peace
JFM

So I thought to myself - "self, good thing I got this now and not in the morning after getting up at 7.25am. Now I can sleep in another two hours. Hooray!"

Then today, on my way to the Humble Bean, who do I see but Mahaffy! So I go up to him and smilingly say, "say, aren't you sick?" (silent pause) "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better?"
(Deadliest glare ever seen on the face of a usually jolly professor!!)
"I didn't send that email," he finally said.
"Oh." (another awkward silence)

Then *click* it dawns on me that not only was the email an elaborate hoax, but Mahaffy seems to think the silly grin on my face moments before, when I asked him about being sick, is an indication that I might be the one responsible for it. (oh boy...)

Apparently Mahaffy went to class this morning and only two people showed up for class, probably the only two who didn't check their mail last night...

Email received this afternoon from "James Mahaffy":

Folks,

Just a note to let you know that we really need to make up the lecture that was missed because someone fraudulently sent out a canceled class message.

Plan on starting the next three Zoology classes at 7:45 AM sharp.

Those f***ers!! so mature....

The good times strike again!

This weekend has been and should continue to be super awesome! I have no work this weekend, aside from the two hours of cleaning I did today, and no homework due Monday and only minimal homework for Tuesday so I've decided to take a complete break this weekend and am resolved to do absolutely no homework. Well, maybe with the minor exception of possibly looking over some zoology lab stuff for my quiz on Thursday (I'm that scared!), but otherwise this weekend is devoted purely to good times and relaxation. So yesterday a group of 12 of us girls went out to LeMaars for ice cream! Then we came home and played read my lips and some other games. Then we watched some old episodes of Gilmore Girls. And yes, I enjoyed it! In fact, last night was probably the most nonalcoholic fun I've had all school year!
Today I worked out with some of my roommates. I did squats with 45lbs on my neck and I'll probably be immobile tomorrow... but I feel quite good about myself at the moment. :)
Tonight I'm going to a special comedy leagueish even with a guest professional (?) group from Omaha, so hopefully it will be good. Afterwards there's an OJK, the Benedict Affair, and Nick Engbers concert. And after that a cake and dance party in west hall.
Then tomorrow after church I'm eating lunch with my new "host parents" from Covenant church. Then I'm watching a movie with Sara Hulstien who is awesome beyond all reason! And then I can come home to a delicious home-made meal, thanks to my roommate Sarah Sparks.
This is the kind of stuff I've been missing a lot lately! Good chillin times with good girl friends. I don't think I realized until just lately how much I miss having Amanda to go bug whenever I'm bored, or to talk to when I'm having a bad day. But I do.