Thursday, October 18, 2012


So I’m gonna tell you a little story, k? K. In the dorm I am presently living in, when you flush the toilet, the water in the shower gets incredibly burn-your-skin-off hot. So, on the inside of each stall there is a sign that says “Please yell flush” or something along those lines. Now, a seemingly random thing. When I come out of my room, I can hear if the showers are running or not. I am four doors down from the bathroom. Now, back to the story. Very often in the past few weeks, someone has flushed without yelling flush, and I've been burned. I have decided to write a poem and post it somewhere. It’ll go something like this:

I can hear from down the hall,
You are just across the wall.
I am sure you can discern,
The splash of water from your stall.
 “FLUSH” is all you have to call,
To keep my skin from being burned.
Yell out loud and stop the squall,
Holler loud and you’ll forestall.

Yeah. I’m a little annoyed. J Oh well. Laters!!

Saturday, September 8, 2012


When I was unpacking and decorating my room I jokingly wrote "Welcome to STRESS" on one of my whiteboards.

I must be psychic...


I hate not knowing what's going on. Not knowing where to go. Not knowing if I'm going to get in trouble. Not knowing if that was a stupid thing to say and now I'm being ridiculed.


I've discovered that if I have something specific I'm supposed to write it's very hard for me. My brain can't put stuff together unless there's inspiration behind it.

It sucks.


I think I'll have some Ramen... It's comfortably cool outside.

Plus it's a good way to procrastinate.

Thursday, September 6, 2012


L and I standing in line for supper:
Guy in front of us talking to L: Hey, we'll play AOE again on friday.
L: Ok, *points at me* She'll play too.
Guy: Oh? *Looks at me oddly* That's new. It's usually only guys that play...
L: Yea, she's actually really good.
Me: *thoroughly embarrassed* Don't say that. I haven't played in forever!
Guy: That's what he said, and he nearly beat me.

Yea, I'm a gamer... Makes things awkward sometimes...

Wednesday, September 5, 2012


I think I love being in college. It's a challenge. I'm hearing words I don't know. It's awesome.
So anyways, here are some of the words I've heard, misunderstood, looked up, and understand.

re·pu·di·ate [ri-pyoo-dee-eyt]
verb (used with object), re·pu·di·at·ed, re·pu·di·at·ing.
1. to reject as having no authority or binding force: to repudiate a claim.
2. to cast off or disown: to repudiate a son.
3. to reject with disapproval or condemnation: to repudiate a new doctrine.
4. to reject with denial: to repudiate a charge as untrue.

pae·an   [pee-uhn]
1. any song of praise, joy, or triumph.

de·i·ty   [dee-i-tee]
noun, plural de·i·ties.
1. a god
2. divine character or nature, especially that of the Supreme Being; divinity.
3. the Deity, God; Supreme Being.

Sine Qua Non
si·ne qua non   [sahy-nee kwey non, kwah, sin-ey; Lat. si-ne kwah-nohn]
an indispensable condition, element, or factor; something essential: Her presence was the sine qua non of every social event.

syl·lo·gism   [sil-uh-jiz-uhm]
1. Logic . an argument the conclusion of which is supported by two premises, of which one (major premise)  contains the term (major term)  that is the predicate of the conclusion, and the other (minor premise)  contains the term (minor term)  that is the subject of the conclusion; common to both premises is a term (middle term)  that is excluded from the conclusion. A typical form is “All A is C; all B is A; therefore all B is C.”
2. deductive reasoning.
3. an extremely subtle, sophisticated, or deceptive argument.

pi·ous   [pahy-uhs]
1. having or showing a dutiful spirit of reverence for God or an earnest wish to fulfill religious obligations.

Na·si   [nah-see]
noun Jewish History .
the head or president of the Sanhedrin.

(I might have been confused for a minute or two when my prof said this... I was thinking "Nazi? What do the Nazi's have to do with New Testament Literature?")

jar·gon1    [jahr-guhn, -gon]
1. the language, especially the vocabulary, peculiar to a particular trade, profession, or group: medical jargon.
2. unintelligible or meaningless talk or writing; gibberish.
3. any talk or writing that one does not understand.

di·a·log·ic   [dahy-uh-loj-ik]
1. of, pertaining to, or characterized by dialogue.
2. participating in dialogue.

Yea, anyways... Thought you might be interested. I'm outta here. L8r!

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Through it All

The picture is titled "Through the Dark" and I just painted it. The song is "Better than Life" by Acapella.

Through all things. Through the darkest times. In the times when life is confusing. When it's dark, scary and overwhelming. Through the valley of the shadow. In a dry and weary land. Through the forest of confusion. Open your eyes. See Him in His sanctuary. Hold His scarred hand. Follow His wounded feet. He will take you through... Through all things. No matter the dark. No matter the whispers that you won't make it. No matter the confusion. He knows all. He cares. He loves. And His love is better, stronger, brighter, bigger. Bigger than the forest. Stronger than the whispers. Brighter than the dark. The dark hides from His face. His Father is all-knowing, all-caring, all-seeing. He knows your pain and confusion and is a balm to your wounds, a light in the dark. Ask. Seek. Knock. He will deliver. His hand will hold you. Though you can't always see Him, Feel Him. Know Him. Trust Him. His Spirit is with you always. He petitions His Father for you. He intercedes. He prays. For you. For you. He will fill your cup. Bring it, kneel before Him, praising Him for His goodness, His love, His prayers... For who He is.
I will praise you in all things. 
Hold my hand.
Lead me through.
Hug me when I weep.
And teach me when I'm confused.
This is my prayer.

Friday, August 24, 2012

Fer teh TAT

    My sister says canvas is very forgiving. I say, it may forgive, but it never forgets. Think about it. 
You make a mistake. You use lots and lots of paint to cover it up, and, you could say it "forgives" your mistake. 
But, if you take a sharp knife and chip at the paint, you'll find it comes off with very little effort. And there, under the forgiving paint, is that one little spot that you didn't like and had to cover up. Maybe it was outside 
what you had drawn. Maybe the color you used didn't match the rest of the picture. Maybe you decided that particular piece didn't need to be in the picture to define the subject matter.

    I say, maybe our lives are canvases. Maybe we paint our picture as we travel down this highway we call life. And each day, each step, each decision, is a brush stroke on our canvas. And the plans and goals we make are the lines, like in a coloring book. And one day, you realize that you have been painting outside the lines. You say "Man, I can't believe I did that! I'm gonna hafta fix this mistake!" When, in reality, the people who are looking at your canvas are saying, "Wow, I never would have thought to paint OUTSIDE the lines!", or "Man, that is one beautiful painting!" And then, you start to color over the top of that "mistake". And the people are like, "Wait! What are you doing? That was pretty! Let me tell you what I thought of it.", or "Hey, wait, let me show you. You don't have to cover it up. You can make something even better out of this 'mistake' that you thought was un-fixable.". Then they start to chip away at the paint you've tried so hard to cover that mistake with. And in the end, you have a glorious painting of your travels on life's highway. And all because someone chipped at your paint.

    But then, what if no one ever came along and started to chip at that paint that you tried so hard to cover up that "mistake" with? Would you ever look at your canvas and say, "I wonder if that spot that I thought looked bad was really the one place the canvas looked REAL?" Sometimes, I think we need those sharp knives that seem to hurt so badly at times. 
    We need those people who know that mistakes make us who we are. Those people who see past the layers of paint we've used to try and cover our little idiosyncrasies, our differences, our "mistakes". The people who see the real person inside this facade of paint and lies and secrets. And they don't seem to mind that there is that one spot inside us that doesn't match, or is outside the lines we have drawn for ourselves. They love us for who we are. 

So, yes, I would say that the canvas of our lives is forgiving, but it doesn't forget... and I don't think it needs to.

Just bored

Now I'm gonna feel odd posting completely un-serious things...

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. Don’t you dare dig for that “cool” or “intellectual” book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest

"There was little flat land for farming when the holders came here, since the primary interest in Tillek was its sheltered harbor to the northwest of what is now the Hold. The holders gradually built terraces into the mountain that held the Hold, giving the broad farms a northeastern exposure. The roads leading to the Hold proper were also terraced, with ramps built for wagons along either side."
-The Dragon Lover's Guide to Pern, Jody Lynn Nye and Anne McCaffrey

Thursday, August 23, 2012


    There are lots of new things in my life... New state. New room. New authorities. New friends. New mentors. New schedule. New food. I'm adjusting. It's interesting, fun even. But every night I think "Tomorrow I can tell mom..." fill in the blanks. And then it hits me. Mom isn't in the next room. She isn't just down the hall. She isn't just away for a few days. This is kind of permanent. Yeah, sure I can call her or email or whatever, but it isn't the same.

    I think "I wish TAT were here. She could help me pick the right outfit to wear. She's always so empathetic. She would know how homesick I am and be able to help." but she's even farther away than mom. I miss C's wisdom. Anything I ask her, she has an answer, or can help me find one. But  the wise one is heading away from where I am at a rate I am not comfortable with. I think "I wish Brit could be here. We have so much fun. She is the funniest person." and I get even more lonely and homesick.

But, among the homesickness, there is a knock. A gaggle of giggling girls have seen my name on my door, noticed they haven't met me yet, and decided to introduce themselves. I smile, say "Hullo" and "No thanks" to the offer of snacks and pop. Back in my room, door closed, drying my hair, hearing another knock. I toss my towel on my bed and rush for the door, no use keeping them waiting, whoever it is. The RA, checking in, saying she doesn't mind if we circulate after "lights out" this first night.

    Sweet. Caring. Accepting. Introducing. Loving.

    And something else hits me. Yeah, I'm a long way from home, in a new environment. I may be nervous, and maybe a bit scared. But they care here. They know it's new and frightening and they do their best to alleviate that. So you aren't overwhelmed. So you can learn and meet and change and grow in a safe, loving place.

    So, sure, I'm scared and nervous and homesick. But I know these people care. And more importantly, God cares.

Mom... Don't worry too much. I'm all right. I'll grow. I'll change. And I'll know you guys will always be there for me.

Friday, April 13, 2012


*insert fangirl squeal*
This ^ totally happened this morning. I am SO weird. But look! Look what happened!

The Spine totally (not actually) talked to me! I nearly fell out of my desk chair when I got on this morning and saw that.
*takes a moment and composes myself*
Anyways, it was... Very cool. And I am definitely not bouncing up and down and taking screenshots. Never happened. (Don't ask my mom... {Or my sister...})

Thursday, April 12, 2012


First, I got some hamsters. (Yes, multiple.) Two to be exact.
(Second) The same day, I was attempting to cut some cheese with an incredibly (stupidly) sharp knife... Bad idea I guess. :P I slipped and nearly cut my left index fingertip off. Six stitches, the most I've ever gotten. It was fun, and I didn't even faint (exactly {at least not quite}).
Third, yea, actually I don't have a third. My life has been fairly boring lately.
OHHH! WAIT! I lied! Best thing ever! I discovered a band! (I would say "new band" but I'm pretty sure it's only new to me.) They're called "Steam Powered Giraffe" and they are officially (ok, not very official, but whatever.) the COOLEST BAND EVER!!!!!! They're steam punk robots! And their music is amazing! And they are HILARIOUS! And I am totally, like, fangirl crushing on all of them! (Which is totally abnormal for me.)
You only wish you were as cool and rad and hip and groovy and aloe (inside joke) and awesome and talented as they are...

And their fans are just about as awesome as they are. I've been lurking around the SPG forums and they all amaze me a little bit. I wish I was as cool as them.

And with this particular band, I would be one of those creepy stalker fans who went to every concert and knew all of their names and where they lived and stuff. (If I could afford it.)

In conclusion, I'm a creepy, clumsy, underpaid, animal hording, STALKER! :D (With bad sentence structure.)

Monday, January 16, 2012

The 1st...

Of many hopefully.

I have realized that I pull myself out of the haven that is sleep with a chain that I sometimes find too heavy to heave...
For a moment in time, I have no control of my thoughts. I find myself saying things that later I have no memory of.
And as I heft this burden of "NOOOOO!" out of this dark restful pool, I find myself hating >insert thing that startled me awake here<...
I can feel this hatred for the mere moments (though it seems like hours) it takes to fight my way to the dry ground of rational thought and... alert awareness.
And when I feel this, when I recall it later in the day, I make myself sick to my stomach.

I've decided to make a conscious choice before I fall asleep at night.
I will wake up with a good attitude.
I choose to not be angry that I have to wake up. It was a choice I made that got me here, to that moment, to that seven o'clock hour that makes me angry.
I chose to accept this job.

So here are my conclusions:
1. God has given me the opportunity to have a job and have an income.
2. I don't hate my job. I actually enjoy my job immensely.
3. I may even choose to wake up earlier so I can have my devotions in the morning instead of the evening.