a vestige of thought...

Yesterday we had the hall gathering so fondly referred to as SHA-BANG. The meeting itself is mostly logistical stuff: what to do with your refridgerator over break, clean up your Christmas decorations before you leave, and so on. But afterwards, we all gathered in the hall to decorate, and it was a blast.


Sam: Hang on, this part is askew!


Peek-a-boo Jill


Roommates Katie and Paige putting together a tree for their room.


Me and my roomie!


Courtney tackling the Christmas lights and Heather... well, I don't really know what Heather is doing.


I had to teach Courtney (among others) how to make paper snowflakes. I think my three years in preschool gave me a "cutting" edge.


Sam decorating the slightly disfigured reindeer chain I cut out.


My girls (sporting our hall shirts)!

Sam and I have taken a number of personality assessments over the past few weeks. Every time we have been complete opposites. In the DISC assessment, I am a DI and she is a CS. In the Myers-Briggs, I am an ENFP and she is an ISTJ. It's rather amazing how two people who are so apparently function so differently can (1) get along so well and (2) have so much in common.

We put Christmas lights up in our room this evening; hopefully pictures of our festive decorating will soon follow.

I am FINISHED with my PE assessments! Although I know for sure that I just can't do sit-ups if someone is not holding my feet and doing push-ups makes my wrists hurt (which is why I never do them), I did manage to improve my time for running a mile and a half by nearly a minute. I went from 13:36 at the beginning of the semester to 12:38 yesterday. Although a large number of people still did a lot better than me, I'm quite happy with that time. I was not cut out to be an athelete.

Somehow it has gotten to be nearly 11:30 and I guess I'd tear myself away from my computer and go get ready for bed. Goodnight (and hopefully something resembling organized thought will appear here soon).

This is Ollie (short for Oliver) the Octopus. As previously mentioned, a number of nifty ZooPal pals accompanied myself and other residents of my hall on our trips home (or wherever) this past week over Thanksgiving.


Ollie, enjoying some chocolate Teddy Grahams with me.


Welcome to Ohio.


Ollie and Scott, my brother


Ollie clashing with my dad's shirt


Reading New Testament


Ollie and the turkey. :)


Ollie meets the Cat (Mia)


I introduced Ollie to Graeter's Ice Cream and Skyline Chili, both Cincinnati favorites.


Target run!


Ollie checking out my new shoes.


My cousin, Jack, meeting Ollie.


Watching the Bengals shut out the Browns. Who Dey!


Crossing the Ohio River back into Kentucky.


Lisa, my sister, modeling with Ollie in front of the Wendy's where we stopped for dinner.

It amazes me how sometimes I can go back and read my old journals and suddenly come across something that I wrote years ago and yet very much needed to hear today. Exempli gratia:

Thanksgiving Day, November 25, 2004

I learned something very valuable this Thanksgiving. I was flipping through the Psalms this evening, looking at all the verses that praised and thanked the Lord. It occurred to me while I was reading them that Psalmists rarely thanked God for material things. Instead, they praised Him for his love, forgiveness, salvation, grace, mercy, protection, and a host of other intangible, but nevertheless very important things. It made me realize how much I trivialize God's goodness. So this year, Jesus, while I am so grateful for the blessings of a heated home, a soft bed, a loving family, fuzzy slippers, my beautiful cat, and all my many other physical gifts from You, I thank you even more for your sacrifice that saved me from the consequences of my sin. Thank You for your mercy in not punishing me and your grace in giving me the many blessings in family, health, and materials that I enjoy. Lord, I will never understand the depth of your goodness to me... I pray that You will use me to ease the suffering of others. Give me a generous heart that will accurately reflect my generous God.

Please accept my humble offering of thanks.

Happy Thanksgiving! I am enjoying the great American Thanksgiving pastime of watching way too much television. Commercials during the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade are nearly as entertaining as Super Bowl commercials. I saw one in particular for a new ER episode that is showing this evening. Its creaters did their best to create a dramatic and emotional mood by playing "Broken Hallelujah." This, however, did not have the effect they had hoped, as it only reminded us viewers of Shrek. It's difficult to empathize with the poor dying person stuck in an airplane or something when a large green ogre keeps coming to mind.

It has just occurred to me that I forgot to celebrate my first year on Blogger. My official anniversary was close to a month ago, but I shall celebrate today. Happy Blogger Anniversary to me, and may I have many years of future blogging happiness. Feel free to come on in and make yourself at home. There is cake in the living room and all gifts may be left by the door.

It crackles and spizzles and burns brightly, but eventually it goes out and then the darkness is as heavy as ever. I had a frappuccino this evening, because I wanted one, and because I wanted to make sure I was awake to finish the one paragraph left of my paper and to complete my packing. It's just past midnight, and I can feel the caffeine wearing off. The end of my paper is in sight; this will be no all-nighter. In fact, it should not have even been a mid-nighter, but I became distracted when everyone started milling about the hall chatting and preparing to go home tomorrow. It's odd to think of nearly an entire week without these girls that I have come to know and love. I'm very much looking forward to seeing my family and my pets and my home, but I'm going to miss hearing Courtney's cute little giggle, and perusing through the newspaper with Heather before New Testament, and talking about Latin or homeschooling with Karissa, and eating lunch with Emily, and going to not-my-TAG-group functions with Laura. And I miss pretty much everything about Sam, who left very early Saturday morning to go down to Mississippi and who has a horrible cold, or so it sounded on the phone.

I have given several of the aforementioned girls a piece of plastic cutlery with an animal on it, which they are to name and document the travels of over the next week. I hope to relate the tales of these creatures upon my return to Asbury in a week. Until then, Happy Thanksgiving, dear First Glidians! You are all very close to the top of my list of blessings this year!



Yes, I am aware that 'spizzles' is not a word. I say it is, and this is my blog, therefore no one is allowed to object.

A jumble of ramblings that make this blog live up to its name:

I was reflecting today on the fact that when I was home I very rarely put my pjs on before I was actually about to go to bed, but here sometimes I put them on at 7:30 or before and think nothing of it. It's quite lovely, actually.

There is a difference between pj pants and lounge pants. If I'm wearing lounge pants, the drawstring is tied; if they're pj pants, it is not tied. Never mind the fact that the same pair of pants fill both rolls.

I'm nearly out of pretzles. I think I shall have to go to IGA this week and remedy that. Pretzles dipped in peanut butter is pretty much my favorite snack ever. The pretzles that I have left are small pieces that, while still quite tasty, are not conducive to peanut butter dipping.

I have a psychology test tomorrow that I (as of 9:24 Sunday evening) have actually studied for! Don't get me wrong, I do generally study for my psychology tests (which we have usually every four class periods). Most of the time, however, my studying takes place from 12-12:45 before my 1:00 class. Not the best study habit, I imagine, but when it stops paying off, I'll stop doing it. Bad philosophy, I know. But it's working.

My current dilemma: Do I get up at 6:30 tomorrow morning to take a shower, or do I put my hair up tomorrow and take a shower tomorrow evening? Oi.


This is Amadeus, discovered and named by Courtney and Amy, who got loose in the courtyard about a month ago. I managed to catch her and took her outside, where she sat in my arms for half an hour or so. I just found one of Mia's whiskers on my floor. I've found several of them since being here, mostly stuck on my blankets and all the clothes she slept on as I was packing. I miss my kitty, and I was very glad Amadeus came along when she did to give me a kitty fix.

Alright, I'm finished. My bed is calling me. Dormite bene.

I feel like I should attempt to list a fraction of all the many, many things I have learned since coming to Asbury. Sure, I've learned academic things. Before coming here I didn't know the difference between schizphrenia and dissociative identity disorder (DID) or that third declension adjectives generally take an -i ending in the ablative singular. And I've learned 'life' sorts of things, like one hour of work in the library is equivalent to three hours of work in my dorm room, and while one setting on the washer will get my clothes wet, another similar (yet apparently different) setting will actually get them clean. But the beauty of Asbury is the spiritual learning that goes on here. I hardly know where to begin. Here are a few of the things that I have learned and attempted to translate into something that makes sense.

1. I am learning to listen. Not just for big things like going from public school to homeschooling or choosing a college and/or career, but for small things as well. Sometimes it is how to pray for someone, or something I ought to do or say. The amazing part is not the hearing or the obeying, but how God responds to and multiplies one tiny act of obedience!

2. Serving. I have come to see the difference between serving in your life and having a life of service. The former involves living daily life and here and there serving God in one way or another. The latter involved a complete surrender to God each moment, trusting Him for the next step and not counting on that step to be necessarily visible before taking it. It means listening and being open to going anywhere He asks or staying in the place He chooses. My "plans" are not my own. I think, in that respect, God has blessed me by not really giving me any. If I don't have plans, I don't have to change them when he directs me to something.

3. Faith is more than a noun. It is also more than repeating the Apostle's Creed. It is at attitude of trust that is carried out in obedience. I may come back to this one at another time.

4. I am unnecessary. God doesn't need me. If I don't care to obey, God will use someone else to accomplish His work. I don't want to miss out on the opportunity to be used by Him!

5. Life is so unfair. The thing is, it's unfair in my favor. I cannot for the life of me understand why I have been blessed with so much- tangible and intangible- when others, both here and around the world, have so much less. I know that "[from] everyone who has been given much, much will be required; and to whom they entrusted much, of him they will ask all the more (Luke 12:48)." I wish I knew what more I could do to balance the fairness of this life.

I could drone on for quite awhile longer, but I have class. Valete!

Congratulate me, all, I have finally finished the alphabet. Remind me not to start something like that again.

I have just spent the past four hours sitting in Kinlaw Library. For most of this time I was hitting myself over the head with a book called "Power Sleep," or perhaps the one called "In Bed with the Food Doctor," and periodically stopping to furiously type something about how college students are ruining their lives by not getting enough sleep. I wrote three and a half pages today, and I figure that if I write 1-2 pages a day from now until Kingdom Come, I will finish on time.

It's so very quiet in the library. I mean, it's usually quiet in the library, but today particularly so. On weeknights there are usually groups of students whispering to one another and multiple sets of hands furiously clicking over laptop keyboards. Saturdays, however, those who dare to venture into the library do so because they intend to sit down and stay there and not move until they have finished such and such a task. There is little talking, quieter clicking, and an air of hazy boredom. The resulting studious atmosphere often leads me to look up from my work, stare into space, and wonder profound things like, "I wonder if that was chicken salad or tuna salad on my sandwich at lunch..." or "Is it true that guys on one side of the library are cuter than those on the other?" (A girl on my hall claims this is so.) At this point I accidentally catch the eye of someone or other else who has gotten lost in irrelevant thought and both of us quickly go back to our work, denying the fact that we ever ceased our studying.

After eleven (wow, really?) weeks at school I, this very morning, have finally discovered the secret to doing the laundry and ending up with truly washed and dried clothes. To wash in cold water with a regular cycle, choose the 'bright colors' setting. Put an extra quarter in the dryer for an extra 20 minutes and (hooray!) dry clothes. Most weekends so far my room has been filled with drying racks and every available piece of furniture covered in my still-damp 'clean' clothing. I am happy to have finally discovered the secret.

I can hear the familiar deep breathing that tells me someone has fallen asleep in the big, comfy leather chair in front of me. I could do a whole study on sleep deprivation in our very own Kinlaw Library. I wonder if perhaps we should rename this place 'the naptime building with all the books.'

My battery icon has just turned red, which is my computers way of figuratively holding a gun to my head and saying, "Plug me in or else." I don't have my power cord with me, which means I had better go back to my room. Farewell!

Lesson of the weekend: In case of the advent of a new ice age, either stake it out in a huge library and burn the books to keep warm, or trek through the blizzard with Dennis Quaid, because he survives, even though the extreme cold freezes everyone else instantaneously (cf. The Day After Tomorrow).

I am now officially an Applied Communications major. I had planned to wait to declare, as I have a tendency to change my mind, but I'm pretty sure I'll stick with this, as it's what I keep coming back to. Someone told me that majors have priority for classes in that department (which makes perfect sense), so I decided to declare in hopes of making sure I get into the communications class I signed up for (which is a prerequisite for nearly every other comm class).

For those who wish to ask, as nearly everyone does (straight from the Asbury College Bulliten):

The APPLIED COMMUNICATION MAJOR, through a study of both ancient traditions
and contemporary ideas of communication, helps students develop the communication
skills essential for building basic human relations, ensuring vocational
success, and improving feelings of self-worth. It has been demonstrated that students
become more fully developed critical thinkers and forceful persons to the degree that
they have learned and practiced speechmaking and other oral communication skills.
Majors in this program may select from four areas of concentration: public relations,
studies in communication, leadership, and theatre.

I like that not only will I improve my communication skills, but also my "feelings of self-worth." Haha.

Also, Karissa Marken is my hero because she showed me how to set up Mail to work with my Asbury email address. The guy at the help desk, who apparently does not know what he is talking about, told me that was not possible. No more Microsoft Entourage! If it were possible, I would burn it.