Christmas banquet

These are just some pictures from Friday night. It was a lot of fun. Sara is in the green dress, Randa is wearing purple, Heather is wearing black with her hair up, and of course I'm the one in the pink and black dress. After the Christmas Banquet we went to the mall - that's where the picture in the front of the Christmas tree was taken. Then we went back to a friend's house and camped out on the floor and watched Elf. It was a lot of fun.

Christmas Banquet!!!!!

Today is Taylor's famous Christmas banquet. The freshmen look forward to it all year and dress up in their high school graduation getup - the sophomores usually break out their little black dresses and musty ties - the juniors rarely go, since they have a life outside of school - and the seniors - oh sorry, I forgot, what seniors? Most of them transfered to other schools long ago. Oh my. Witness the cynicism. Actually, truth be told, I'm pretty excited. I think it will be lots of fun. The gym undergoes a wonderful transformation, although that's not the biggest miracle. All the ordinary people who go here suddenly morph into fairy-tale characters. The guys shave, the girls dab on the sparkles and makeup and evening gowns, and everyone usually finds some way to hide their warts and abnormalities. Dressing up is so much fun. It usually takes us all day to get ready - at least, for us girls... but it is totally worth it. I can't wait to see everyone tonight.

Here we go again...

Another week in the trenches and I'm still alive! It's a miracle.
I have had an amazing week, a terrible week, a frustrating week. And tonight will be just another chapter...
I haven't been to Millwoods Pentacostal Assembly for a long time. It really doesn't bother me to go there anymore; I just haven't really had a reason to go. But I haven't gone to church for the past two Sundays, and I really wanted to go today. The early service today at Greenfield Baptist was out of the question, since it's doubtful that I would have been able to rouse myself. I've had a pretty sleep-deprived weekend. So I called Sara and asked if I could go with her and Mark to church tonight. I hope that we don't stay out too late, since I have a paper to finish. Just 700 more words... but I don't know how I'm going to find them!
Well, that was a tangent. Sorry. So what was I saying? Oh yeah, MWPA. I always enjoy the service there, but it's also such an emotional wringer for me. Somehow I manage to always meet up with some old friend that makes come unglued. Still, I want to overcome my emotional dependency on routine, and that means going to different places... getting out of my comfort zone... doing what doesn't come easiest for once.
All this sounds lovely, but I still have a bit of apprehension for tonight.
Maybe if I take a nap...

I'm hopeless!

Every bit of self-discipline and frugality I ever had has been completely thrown out the window! For the past month I've been so responsible and practical... and working so hard on my schoolwork, that I thought to myself, Grace, you've finally started to grow up! Then, yesterday, I really blew it. The day started off with me just being grumpy. I didn't work on my paper at all, and then, right before I went to work, I decided to just "stop in" at Below the Belt. Unfortunately, they had an amazing sale. Three shirts and thirty dollars later, I felt a little bit guilty, but not enough to stop myself. I guess when I shop, I really shop. Today Randa and I went to the mall, and I managed to find two pairs of shoes and a down vest at Foot Locker. And the saleslady really got me on the right day, cause I ended up saying "what the heck" and buying a protective spray for my new suede Powder Room skate shoes.
It's a good thing I don't go shopping very often, cause when I do... I'm utterly hopeless!!!
P.S. It's 4:15 in the afternoon, and I still haven't started working on my paper yet! Aaaah!

Scarred ... for at least the next month!

I've come to the somewhat embarrassing and uncomfortable conclusion that I will never outgrow my teenage clumsiness. This comes as a result of an incident that occurred on Monday night at work.
I have two customers lined up at the counter. The one last in line is late for a meeting, and begs me to let her go first. The other customer obviously doesn't want to be displaced. I tell them I will go to the back and get my coworker...
Cheryl comes out and begins to help Impatient Woman. I start to wrap up the other woman's items, trying to hurry since I feel bad about the delay already. In my haste, I drop her bag on the floor. I bend over swiftly, and the passage of my head through space intersects with the edge of the counter. Now I'm dizzy and disoriented, and the way that the woman is staring at my head clues me in to the fact that this was no ordinary accidental bump.
"Um... I think you should... maybe wash that... it's starting to bleed," she says as I hand her her bill.
In the bathroom, I put peroxide on the cut, wondering in amazement how I could have hit myself hard enough to break open the skin. It refuses to stop bleeding. In my frustration, I finally put a bandaid on it.
My embarrassment lasted the rest of the evening, as the pink bandaid looked rather startling and odd right in the center of my forehead.
Most of my thinking processes shut off for the rest of the evening. I felt a little sick to my stomach.
Yesterday, I was reading in my Developmental Psychology textbook that the average eight year old has gained an understand of spatial relationships and how objects move in space. They can judge the path that something will follow in space. It makes me wonder whether I somehow missed that stage in development, since I don't seem to even have an awareness of the path my own body will travel in space. Even Kevin McCallister on Home Alone has a better awareness of what objects are likely to cause injury if applied with force to one's person.
Now, the evidence of my accident is branded on my forehead in the pattern of a little pink scar and a shiny bump. I wish that I had a photo to post of how I looked with my little bandaid. When my friend Heather saw me she began to laugh for the space of about a minute. All I can say is if my injury brings such joy and mirth to the soul suffering from midterm overdose - well, then I'm willing to sacrifice my dignity for my friends. Besides, there's not much I can do about it anyway!

Emotional Bug-guts on the Windshield of Life

I'm so exhausted! I just want to fall into bed and sleep forever and ever... but tomorrow the crazy circus of life starts all over again. Between midterms, my job, and my practicum, I think that November will be the proverbial ... well, I was going to say "month from hell", but I don't think that's very proverbial! Besides, I think that hell is more likely to be very, very boring. But hey, that's just my personal opinion. And I don't really know anything right now except that my eyelids are involuntary closing...
Today just started out as a "Jonah day." I told one of the girls at work that it was one of those days when you just keep thinking about ex-boyfriends. Really, I'm usually pretty good at "forward motion." But not today. All night, I had terrible dreams about my evil ex(s). It was actually quite embarassing. And the day didn't get much better. I tried to study, and succeeded only in stressing out. I was supposed to go for a run, but I could hardly drag myself off the floor. My patience level steadily decreased as we spent Children's Lit class discussing how every single girl thought that she was Anne of Green Gables when she was a child.
It's not all that bad... I just like whining, waxing sarcastic, and complaining about the little irritants. This blog is such a good outlet! My limited readership will just have to put up with the occasional emotional bug-guts on the windshield of my life.
Oh dear me. The metaphors of the struggling English major!

Snow, Schindler, Decisions

It hasn't snowed yet! I'm so grateful. I want to soak up as much good weather as I can before the inevitable occurs. Don't get me wrong. I like snow - but at Christmas time. This is a picture taken on September 9 last year - the first snow of the year! It's been very different this year. Yesterday I was wearing a tanktop in the afternoon. Definitely a bonus.
I'm faced with a difficult decision: should I move out of dorms next semester and live with my friend Mandy, or should I tough it out and hope that the amazing friendships I have here on bottom-floor Schindler somehow make up for the housing drawbacks? I don't know what to do! I really want to have my independence, I want to be able to cook for myself and retreat to my own home at the end of the day. And the girls last year that made everything worthwhile - most of those girls don't live here anymore. Still, Randa and Heather's friendship means so much to me, and I really value living with them. That experience alone is enough to balance my desire to move into my own apartment.
The other consideration is financial. It would be much cheaper for me to share a living space with Mandy. I hate to drag money into it, but I have to.
These decisions are driving me crazy!! I hope that I receive an epiphany soon!

How it feels...to be me

I crouch here,
Cold wind sucking the fragile breaths
That try to warm my lips.
All the colours of indicision
Swirl like a kaleidoscope in my mind
Dizzying, so dizzying.
And the darkness on the edges,
Cold like obsidian ice.
What once burned red-hot
Now sinks in dark coldness.
I cling to the center,
Disoriented by the whirrings
Of my spinning consciousness,
But more afraid of falling of the side into the blackness.

Fall Weather and Sundry Other Items

Thank God for a warm room! OK, so maybe the temperature of my room is bordering on sauna temperatures, but I'd rather be warm than cold. The furnace roars constantly, like an angry fire-breathing dragon living in the walls. I love it!
I'm definitely having a better week than the last one. I think I did OK on my English presentation, and my other classes are coming together nicely. I should be able to get lots of work done this weekend, plus fit in a trip to the library (yeah!) and go to Randa's house for Thanksgiving dinner. Oh, and I got my first paycheck from my job, which was rather pleasant.
My girls in my "connecting group" are so cute. They're all freshman, and they want to keep meeting and having Bible studies. Their idea is for everyone to have a turn leading on a rotational basis. Who am I to say no? My room is warm and usually decently clean, so it's a reasonable choice, and I always have tea and coffehouse-style music. Hey, I might even learn something - a lot of them are pretty intense Christians.
The weather is not behaving lately. I hate waiting for the bus when the wind is so frigid. But the trees are covered with a profusion of rich reds and yellows, and all the leaves float down in the wind and skip around on the sidewalks. At least it looks beautiful from inside my over-heated room. And my birthday is tomorrow. I guess that's always my first indication that fall is here to stay.
Bring it on!

Grumpy Li'l Ol Me

You should be glad that I'm writing here now instead of three hours ago when my emotions were tied up in knots, off the wall, stretched thin, and ready to snap! I feel much better now, probably due to the fact that my presentation for Children's Lit is almost done, and I have been listening to Jennifer Knapp and mellowing.
So what was I upset about? Well, I guess it started last night. I was talking to my mom on the phone, and I had an epiphany. Sometimes, it seems like I can suddenly articulate clearly everything that has been on my mind and bothering me. That's what happened to me last night. I had quite the rant at everything that has been going on here at this school. All the doctrine and popular attitudes that I am literally immersed in here have finally built up in my system to the point that I can identify what it is about them that bother me.
Maybe it's the fact that I am quite literally unsure of whether I am really going to be a Christian or not. Maybe it's the fact that I have been in Godly relationships with good guys - and they just didn't work out. Maybe it's my adversion to any facet of religion that smacks of pretense or fakery. It's quite likely a combination of all three, with a dash of condescension from my peers and a sprinkle of my own fear of what others will think of me. The result is a lot of confusion, angst, and general discomfort.
I know it's stupid, but I feel that if I was open and honest with my friends about the fact that I am searching for God and not really finding him, then they would somehow look down on me or think of me as less of a person. Once I tried to tell my CA about how my summer basically consisted of me drifting further and further from God, and getting mixed up in unhealthy relationships. She didn't really know what to say, and just looked at me with a mixture of pity and sadness in her eyes. I know that everyone goes through periods of doubt in their faith, but why doesn't anyone want to talk about it?
The subject of God, and where he is and what he is doing, right now, in my life - has been one that has been bothering me for weeks and weeks. No, make that months - the past year and a half, actually. It's just more intense here, because everyone is all about Jesus, praise and worship, and mission trips. They all seem sincere, and I don't want to mess up everyone's groove by asking questions or being my true cynical self. It's so easy to just drift along with the status quo here!
I didn't go to church this morning, and I was pondering questions of my faith all day. Then, my already volatile mood was compounded by a little coffee-and-sharing time that we put on in the lounge for the other girls on campus. A lot of my friends shared what God has been teaching them in their lives about relationships - and honestly, I was a little miffed that I was not asked to share. Not that I'm a great example of good relationships - on the other hand, I feel that I'm viewed as a failure here because a. My relationship last year did not work out, and b. I don't have a ring on my finger yet or even the possibility of one. Life is not exclusively about finding The One, but here at this university, well, you sure could have fooled me.
You'll be pleased to know that my immature sulk disappeared after I sternly lectured myself (several times) about the sheer stupidity and solipsism that it was evincing. And the evening was bearable after all. I know that the girls that talked about God made really good points, points that we all need to remember. But I find it hard to take anything to heart when I am so unsure about what is true, and what God really wants from his followers. I don't want to trust anything that I don't know is in the Bible, and even that sometimes seems to contradict and confuse me even more.
Well. That was long and very personal! I don't think I've been this unsure of life in a long time! I believe in God, I know I should follow him, and yet I'm unsure that anything I've ever been taught is really true. I'm homesick, yet I don't want to live at home. I love my friends here, yet I want to leave and go to a different school. I wish that life could be simple. I wish that I could get A+ on my presentation. I wish that had a shiny red convertible...

Fact & Fiction

I miss writing for fun. I used to derive great enjoyment from stringing words together in sentences, creating stories and poems. But lately, I have to write so many essays for my program that I have no creative juice left for doing it just for fun.
My English prof is making us watch Big Fish for our Literary Theory and Criticism class. Big Fish is a movie about tall tales. The father in the movie tells his son of all the extraordinary events that allegedly compose his life story. As the son gets older, he becomes jaded and cynical, and he realizes that the stories his father tells him are just "lies." At the end of his father's life, he becomes obsessed with finding out the real story. However, the son eventually discovers that the truth in his father' s life lies in the stories that the father told the son. Whether the tales were true or not, there was hidden in them the life lessons that the father wanted the son to hear.
I think that one of the lessons in that movie is about the power of fiction. Stories have the ability to move us in the way that perhaps a sermon or a purely biographical tale may not be able to do. Stories have a healing power. Although it may be fictional, far-fetched, or removed from reality, a good story has a nugget of truth hidden in it. It is up to the discerning reader to search it out. As Rudyard Kipling said, "Fiction is Truth's eldest sister."
Maybe I'll go write a story!

Honesty...

Sometimes I feel like my heart has been scattered in a thousand tiny pieces to the four winds, and I can't find it again to put it back together. Imagine a fragile icicle, just a tiny drip off of someone's roof in the wintertime. The temperature dips well below freezing, and the icicle becomes hard and brittle. Now imagine a north wind, so strong that it knocks the little icicle off, shattering it and dispersing the tiny shards wherever the wind goes. That's the way my heart feels like right now.
That's incredibly depressing, I know, and I hate to be depressing in public! Still, no one reads this except for my brother, and blunt honesty has become one of my bad habits. Besides, writing is such a healing activity.
I wonder how many people feel like this. I'm sure that everyone must at some time. Someone I knew once told me that he never really has a bad day. I have to wonder at people like that. Are they really being honest?
I wonder - when we all pretend to be moved by the worship in chapel, but in reality only one person actually saw a tiny glimpse of God's presence - I wonder what would happen if we were honest with God and each other. I wish I could find out! However, society is based on acceptable norms, and honesty just doesn't seem to fit with what we perceive as appropriate.
Back to my shattered heart... I know someday I will find it again. The first step is being honest with myself. My ego tells my id some pretty slick lies, and it becomes difficult to distinguish the truth. I want to spend every day creeping a little bit closer to reality, to the truth that's waiting for me somewhere - maybe in the same location that my lost heart is.

Bridal School

I guess it's not really surprising that this subject would come up eventually. After all, I am at Bible School, and the subject of rings and wedding dresses permeates normal, everyday conversation. Sophomores from my freshman year suddenly start sporting bling on their left hand, and they light up like a Christmas tree when someone asks them about it. "This? Yeah... well... he proposed this Saturday. It was so sweet! Yes, I'm excited. It was about time! We're getting married this summer... Oh, thank you, I think it's beautiful too. He picked it out himself, you know..." And the people who just started dating last year are already looking forward to the day when they'll have something shiny and new to show off. One of my closest friends recently told me, "I'd say yes anytime he decided to ask me." That sent a tingle down my spine and a jolt of panic to my heart. Here are my peers, planning their weddings, and I don't even have a boyfriend yet! I wonder sometimes if I'll be so far behind that by the time I'm in a committed relationship, my friends will all be producing children. It's not the most pleasant thought, yet rather unavoidable here in this environment of serious relationships.
I'm just ranting about this now because I spent my supper meal in the company of five other single people, all of whom had differing opinions on the subject of Bridal School. One of the guys, a freshman, was quite adamant that this school was created for the sole purpose of "hooking up." The other guy, in his 3rd year and single (not for lack of trying), was only too happy too agree. The two other girls were on the opposite side of the argument. They felt that most people were here because of the education.
I don't know where I stand! On the one hand, I'm not here to meet a guy, and I never have been. I know that a lot of my peers don't have that goal in mind either. However, we all dream a little... we all wonder, hey, what if... and what better place to find "the one" than in an environment full of people your own age who all espouse the same values you do? And having a boyfriend wouldn't be at all unpleasant.
That's why I want to trust God with this year. I'm not on the prowl, I'm no cougar, and the freshmen don't hold (very much) attraction for me. However, I have an extremely hot dress for the Christmas banquet, and I wouldn't mind a hot date. We'll see if that's in God's plans for me this year, and if it's not - well then, I won't be disappointed.
The year is a fresh slate, and no one knows what will happen yet! It hasn't even been two weeks yet! The very thought is both depressing and exciting.
~For every matter has its time and way, although the troubles of mortals lie heavy on them. Indeed, they do not know what is to be, for who can tell them how it will be? ~ Ecclesiastes 8:6-7

Am I a racist?

Last night I watched a movie called Crash. It was so intense! I think the point of the whole movie was that everyone has some racist tendencies, whether we're aware of them or not. And we all can be subjected to racism. Needless to say, it was a little disturbing. And today, during every class, even during my job interview this afternoon, I was so sensitive to every nuance that could possibly be construed to racism. Everything I said suddenly became subject to the closest scrutiny, imposed by myself, of course. But it's a subject that I think that Canadians don't really think about a lot. And we need to!
I don't mean this to be a tirade against every injustice imposed upon humankind. I'm not political like that at all. I'd much rather listen to Adventures in Odyssey than the news. But there's something about a discussion of social injustices - a discussion not just about the concepts, but about the actual reality of how those injustices affect everyday people - there's something about such a discussion that makes you feel as if your mind has been expanded, just a little, an extra fringe of awareness on the edges of your schemas. And that's a good feeling.

Cloudy Evening

The bare white walls tend to close in on you. I like my room but I don't like the way that everything is so bare and sterile. It's too neat to look lived in, but too messy too make me feel completely at peace. And the pale evening light filtering through the cloudy sky echoes my odd, restless mood.
I hate living here sometimes.
.... "Why can't you see / Freedom is sometimes just simply another perspective away".... - Kutless
Freedom is such an elusive concept... and it seems so far away tonight. How do I know what it really feels like to be free? Abstract thinking is difficult for me, which is probably why I'm planning on failing my Literary Theory and Criticism class. But I think that here on earth, within the constraints of the frailty of our bodies, humans will never really feel freedom. If we were completely free, would we even be able to handle it?
I'm looking forward to Heaven. I hope that it won't just be blank white walls.