The Famous Amos Saga: Part II

As some of you may know, I once had a traumatic experience in which I spent 20 minutes desperately trying to acquire a bag of Famous Amos cookies and tragically wound up with M&Ms.

Today I had a similar experience, except this time around it was more amusing than depressing.

As before, I decided to take a study break and get some Famous Amos's from the vending machine. I had to knock on four different doors before I finally found someone with change for a five dollar bill, but it didn't take too long, so I was very happily looking forward to my snack. I rode the elevator to the basement, walked to the vending machine and looked with delight at my soon-to-be snack. I chose the crispest dollar bill, stuck it in and punched in the numbers for my treat. The machine gave me my 10 cents change.

That's it.

I stared in shock at the insolent machine, "Seriously?" I protested (out loud).

I stared a little more. What could I do? I was NOT giving this thing another dollar! Should I put an "out of order" sign on it? No," I thought sadly, "I'll just have to sacrifice my dollar and try another machine.

"I hate vending machines!" I said with enthusiastic disgust.

I turned to walk away and noticed a guy down the hallway looking at me. Apparently he doesn't talk to inanimate objects. I turned and walked two steps then thought, "Maybe I just missed it some how," and whipped around, stepped back to the machine and pushed open the little door at the bottom. No Famous Amos's.

Discouraged, I straightened and headed back to the elevator.

The guy was still looking at me.

I laughed aloud as I walked back when I thought about what that guy must be thinking.

If only he knew I was so tempted to kick it.

Fortunately, after briefly interrupting some couple's intimate conversation at vending machine #2, which didn't have any Famous Amos's, and a brief trip to vending machine #3 I did finally get my delicious snack.

I paid $1.80 for 10 mini cookies.

It was worth it.

Creative Obsession

I realized recently that I haven't blogged in a really long time...and that depresses me. So, I will take the few minutes I have now to tell you about my new obsession:

Knitting.

Yep, I'm a knit-aholic. Actually, knitting is a very good stress-reliever. It also is a good way to stay focused when listening to sermons or lectures. It's difficult to fall asleep when you're knitting.

I learned at my grandparents house a few weeks ago and have been knitting like crazy ever since. So far, I began knitting a scarf, realized that scarf was totally messed up, took it out, and started over; began another scarf, finished knitting it, realized it was only about three feet long (after spending a good 45 minutes trying to "bind off" and messing it up in every possible way), took it out, and started over; completed the second scarf in a slightly longer fashion; began a new scarf that I might not actually have to undo since it appears to be the correct width and length so far; pulled out the first scarf yet again and started over because it was too wide and tight; and finally, I broke a knitting needle into three pieces.

There is a good chance that if you're reading this you will get some sort of knitted creation for Christmas (feel free to submit requests). Either that or a few of you will recieve scarves that I have knitted forty times. Either way, it's the thought that counts, right?

Or maybe I'll give people scarves...and then give them presents to apologize.

Chicago is Moody...and I love it :)

No Longer Frosh

You know you're not a freshman anymore when...



1. You know the exact prices of all your favorite snacks in the vending machine

2. You don't have to look at the numbers in the elevator to know what floor you're on because you're just used to the way it "feels"

3. You no longer practice anything your mother taught you about doing laudry

4. You can walk the tunnels with your eyes closed

5. You get cabin fever from being alone in your room for more than 30 minutes

6. You know what SDR, CPO, ASCII, GYROFAD, and GNIMOCEMOH stand for.

7. You are first in line for [iNfoRmal] because it really is that good

8. You no longer check your mail multiple times a day

9. You know when meal times are and what's going to be served



and best of all...



10. You can watch all the freshman freaking over (and staying up all night working on) their OT survey papers and think "I never have to do that again" :)

New Do!

I was inspired by Shannon's adorable new look so I thought I'd try something new myself. What do you think? I can't decide if I like it... but I would like to point out that I customized the colors of the boxes BEFORE I got the new layout. They matched all on their own!

The Power of Chocolate

I like food a lot. No, let me rephrase that. I LOVE food!
As I've been on the search to define myself, one of the things that's stood out is my love for food. Really, I should be a chef. In fact, if I'm ever forced to make something besides mac-and-cheese and instant oatmeal I probably will learn to love cooking. I will also weigh seven hundred pounds by the time I'm thirty-five. But I will be the happiest seven hundred pound woman in the world.
Food is probably one of strongest, if not the strongest, motivator in my life. A close second to that is sleep. Hardly anything can make me leave the comfort of my covers in the morning if I'm determined to stay there, but if someone utters the words, "chocolate chip pancakes," there is a battle inside me fiercer than two ladies fighting for the last pair of pumps on Black friday. Food usually wins. I will endure practically anything to get good food. I could have no interest in a meeting whatsoever but if I hear the word "refreshments" suddenly that meeting sounds oh-so-appealing! In fact, I don't know why I'm posting this on the internet because now people will know how to manipulate me into doing whatever they want! It's probably a really good thing no strangers ever offered me candy when I was a kid.
I've thought long and hard about this aspect of my personality and have come to the conclusion that I love food simply because it makes me happy. Food is associated with practically every good memory I have. Birthdays, weddings, graduations, recitals, family dinners, Sunday dinners, get togethers with friends, lunch in school, breakfasts with Dad, floor outings in college, Movie theaters, Baseball games, baby Showers, church events, family picnics, Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, Labor Day, carnivals, Halloween, etc, etc, etc! Really! Is there anything good that DOESN't involve food? Clearly food = happiness.
So while I know that staying healthy is important, and I've learned some tips to make sure I don't always eat too much (like don't keep candy in you dorm room), I've decided that eating food is great and I'm going to enjoy it!
As Truett Cathy says, "Food is essential to life. Therefore, make it good."

(I saw that quote on the wall of a Chick-Fil-A.I don't know where or when.)

Who are you?

Identity - the state or fact of remaining the same one or ones, as under varying aspects or conditions.

If someone asked you who you are what would you say? Probably your name, but say they ask what defines you. What would you say? How do people describe you?

"She's artistic," "He's really nice," "She's beautiful," "He smells bad."

For most of my life the answer to that question has been "she's an athlete." Since before I can remember I have played sports. From mini-league soccer to in-house basketball to high school teams. I've always played sports and I've never questioned that. It's just what I do. However, in recent years I've started to question this aspect of my identity. Why am I an athlete? Do I want to be an athlete?

The questioning came to a climax this year. For the first time in my life I chose not to play a sport, specifically basketball. Frankly, I'm scared to death. Since middle school I have been a basketball player, that's how people know me. It gives people something to talk about when they meet me. Guys will come up to me and ask how basketball's going, even if we barely know each other. It's a point of connection. It's a place where I know I will be accepted.

.

But recently it's as though God has been pointing out this weakness in my life. I am so dependent on sports, on being an athlete, that I don't know who I am without them. God is drawing me towards Him, asking me to find my identity in Him. I'm excited, but nervous at the same time. What if I don't like who I am apart from basketball? What if other people don't like me? Who am I?

For the next nine months I will be on a journey to discover who I am. Hopefully I will be able to write about it as I learn, and hopefully I will discover that I am someone I can live with. For better or for worse, here I go!

So, what have I learned so far? It's been about two weeks since I decided not to play basketball. So far I've learned:

1. I am a girl. I know that seems obvious, but I've discovered that I like being a girl. I love the color pink and wearing dresses and decorating my room with flowers and buying new clothes. I'm not a tom-boy and I'm not a valley girl, I'm just a girl. And I enjoy that fact.

2. I like creating things. I love writing stories, making decorations for my room and announcement posters for the girls on my floor, making up songs on the piano, and making things out of cardboard.

3. I am a Christian. I read the Bible, I go to church, I volunteer for Awana, I pray.

4. I am a wishy-washy Jesus follower. I want to follow Jesus and have an intimate relationship with him, but more times than not I do what I want instead of obeying him. I tend to put him last instead of first on my priority list, finishing all my other tasks before spending time with him.

Total Tally: 3 good, 1 bad

Music: The universal language...well, that and sports.

I believe that music is one of God's greatest gifts to His creation. I mean, really, where would we be without music? There would be no musicals, no concerts, no bands, no worship songs, no radios, no mp3s, no singing in the rain or gettin' jiggy wit it. No lullabies, no pianos or guitars, no Phantom of the Opera, no Jackson 5, no prom, no awkward middle school dances, no blasting the music with your windows down, no disco, and certainly no shawty fire burnin' on the dance floor.

Ok, so maybe the world wouldn't be too bad without some of those things...

But there would definitely be a huge hole missing from the world without music. No matter how picky you are about which style/band/artist/genre of music you like, there is something out there for everyone. I mean, even if you can't find anything you like you can write your own!

Although I understand that certain types of music aren't for everyone, I don't think I will ever understand people who limit themselves to one type of music, or one artist or band. I know that there are limitless possibilities as far as music goes, but I generally believe that I have a pretty diverse taste for music. I can listen to practically anything and enjoy it! I mean anything! I wouldn't have it any other way.

Limiting yourself to one kind of music is like choosing to eat only cheesecake. Although cheesecake is a delicious dessert, a person would miss out on the fabulousness of ice cream sundaes, cookies, cake, pie, candy, and everything else sweet! Eating cheesecake would make you happy alright, but not when compared to a life filled with eating brownies and ice cream with whipped cream, chocolate syrup and a big, red juicy cherry on top IN ADDITION to the cheesecake!! Granted, you might be a little fatter... but I'm taking this analogy too far. And I'm getting hungry.

Anyway, I would just like to challenge any people out there who have become set in their ways in the realm of music to branch out and try something new. You never know what might surprise you. But in the meantime, if you can't bring yourself to break out of your well-worn rut, just take time to thank God for the opportunity to put your hands together, slide to the left, mash potatoes, shake it all about, doci-doe, get down tonight, shake your groove thing, play that funky music, and walk it by yourself. After all, where would the world be without them?

Unfathomable Love

Working at a camp is one of the best and worst experiences in life. Or, at least in my life so far.

First of all, I love camp! It's so much fun playing games and being absolutely goofy and screaming at the top of my lungs. I love my fellow counselors and I love my campers! I'm getting to play games, teach, and tell kids all about God's love all at the same time, and I'm getting paid!! Sometimes it almost seems wrong to be paid to have such an awesome experience.

At the same time, camp is one of the most difficult and heart-breaking experiences of my life. I spend a week getting to know my girls and learning to love them for who God created them to be but as that happens, the girls open up and share about their lives... sometimes on purpose, sometimes more subtly. These poor girls have gone through insanely painful, horrible things and have to live life just like any other child.

What breaks my heart the most though is that I've been experiencing a little piece of God's love for us. I got to speak with the girls all week about God's love and how incredible it is to have a relationship with Him. It was awesome and some of the girls now know Jesus as their Savior but at the same time, some of the girls couldn't accept God's love in light of the pain they'd experienced. I felt like a mother with a sick child who refused to take medicine. I know that only God can heal wounds that deep but the girls saw God as the culprit. It was so difficult to see them resist the only solution to their heartache.

I found myself wishing that I could take their pain for them and let them have a relationship with God in my place. I guess that's a bit of what Jesus felt when he came to die for us. He saw us in our pitiful state, blinded by our pain, and He came to take that pain away.

Thank you God, for teaching me in this way. Let the girls know how much you love them and teach them to turn to you in the midst of their pain. Thank you for your immeasurable love!

Sand Monsters

Remember these days?When a trip to the beach meant covering every inch of your body with sand?It didn't matter that it was messy, it was just fun!Well, I went to the beach a few days ago with my nieces and spent the first few minutes acting like an adult and trying to keep just my feet in the sand. Then I saw this:and then I remembered how it felt to be little. When I did not care about about being messy or getting sand stuck on me and being uncomfortable. Then a little voiced asked me to play in the sand with her. I said yes.

It was so much fun, I didn't care that I had sand stuck all over me and wet pants the rest of the day. It's such a shame that we grow up and miss out on so much. If you get a chance this summer, I hope you'll hang out with a little kid and remember what it's like to have innocent, unashamed, messy, silly fun!

I Hope You're Hungry!

What can I say? The child is a born saleswoman!

I want some strawberries.

Heaven on Earth

Crashing waves, that salt water smell, the breeze...

Can I just say that I love this place?

God really knew what he was doing with this scene...the colors are so perfect!

A place of love...

Quality family time...

And the boardwalk!!!

God's creation, family, tanning, and shopping all in the same place!

Can life get any better? I submit that it cannot!

The best dessert place in the world doesn't hurt either...

(Oh, gelato...I've missed you my old friend!)

As annoying as the sand can be,

this place is just wonderful!

By Your Plan

You are God Alone

Phillips, Craig, and Dean

~

You are not a god

Created by human hands

You are not a god

Dependant on any mortal man

You are not a god

In need of anything we can give

By Your plan, that’s just the way it is

~

You are God alone

From before time began

You were on Your throne

You are God alone

And right now

In the good times and bad

You are on Your throne

You are God alone

~

You’re the only God

Whose power none can contend

You’re the only God

Whose name and praise will never end

You’re the only God

Who’s worthy of everything we can give

You are God

And that’s just the way it is

~

You are God alone

From before time began

You were on Your throne

You are God alone

And right now

In the good times and bad

You are on Your throne

You are God alone

~

Unchangeable

Unshakable

Unstoppable

That’s what You are

~

Enjoy Heaven Jack,

we will all miss you and can't wait to see you again.

I love you!

$0.37 for a Cure!

Recently I've developed a condition that my friend and I have decided to call "Chronic Blinking Disorder" or "blinking" for short. I'm not quite sure what causes it, but from conversations with others I've realized that it's a pretty common illness. Blinking usually occurs early in the morning, but can sometimes occur during mid-day naps. What is blinking? Well, let me give you an example of blinking, that will be easier than trying to explain it.
Picture this:
Before going to bed at night, you set your alarm for the time you wish to get up, let's say 7am for this example. If you're like me, that means setting three alarms: one at 7:oo, one at 7:02, and one at 7:04 ... just to make sure. In the morning, 7:00 rolls around and your alarm selfishly drags you out of dreamland. You hit the snooze button for another two minutes. You settle back onto your pillow and consider that your bed is the most comfortable place in the world. Then it's 7:02 and once again you hit the snooze for another two minutes. This usually results in some crazy but enjoyable dream about putting shaving cream in your hair, or shouting at the top of your lungs that no one has any idea how hard it is to be a closet. Finally, it's 7:04 and the alarm sounds. You hit the 'off ' button, let out a deep sigh and think, "ugh. ok. time to get up!" Then you blink and it's suddenly 10:30.
This has happened to me that past three days in a row. It also happened last Sunday. I've dealt with CBD before, but this is getting ridiculous! I don't even understand how it's possible to sleep this much! Fortunately, besides missing a class there haven't been any serious consequences, but it's still rather annoying! If anyone has a cure for this despicable disease, I would be willing to pay anyth...I mean, twenty dolla...uh, that is, maybe a buc...well, I have some change in my pocket...

Famous People Keep Journals

Did you ever write in a diary as a little kid?

Do you write in one now?

Have you ever completely filled out a notebook?

Have you ever gone back and read something you wrote five, ten, or maybe more years ago?

If you answered no to any of these questions, I have to offer my sympathies.

Today I completed what I think is my sixth, possibly seventh, diary/prayer journal. And I just have to say that it is one of the most exciting things! To completely fill a notebook gives you such an amazing sense of accomplishment! I mean, how many people can say that they've filled an ENTIRE journal? How many people can say they've filled several ENTIRE journals? Ok, probably a lot, but how many people that I've met have told me that they've filled out an ENTIRE journal? None! So for me, completing a journal is a pretty special occasion.

Filling out a journal in its entirety gives me immense satisfaction, but even if you're an accomplished human being with plenty of other things to bring you satisfaction, I seriously recommend writing in a journal/diary. A lot of people start stressing just at the mention of the word journal because they can't keep up with the mountainous task of writing about their lives EVERY day! I mean really, who has something to write about every day? Unless you're an explorer in the jungles of Africa or an under cover CIA agent, who really has a life so exciting that it's worth writing about every day? Not me! That's for certain! (Unless I really am an undercover agent... dun dun dah-nah!!)

That said, journaling can be really beneficial for everyday Joe Schmoes!

For one, journaling helps those, like myself, who have the memory capacity of a gnat by keeping track of important events in our lives! I love going back to my old journals and remembering how I felt when my niece was just born and what it felt like to be a freshman in high school! There is no WAY I would remember those things as well if I hadn't written them down!

Reason number two: Journaling helps you cope with difficult emotions and hard times. I have a tendency to pretend my less enjoyable emotions just don't exist! I mean after all, I can just pass off those emotions as something I ate or the product of not getting enough sleep. When I write them down, however, they become real. I can't deny their existence and I have to deal with them. This sounds awful, I know, but it's good because then the emotions don't stay bottled up inside; they come out where I can look at them, pray about them, and put them in their proper place! It's like therapy, only it doesn't cost you your first born child.

Finally, and most importantly, journaling helps you realize God's work in your life. There are times in life when it just seems like God doesn't care any more, or that life is just crazy beyond hope. But those are the times when I can look back at my old journals and see how God's been working. Just recently I was struggling with something and I read back in my old journal and realized that I had been through something very similar before that I had forgotten! As I read my own words I realized that God was still teaching me through this difficult time, and I even found some verses written there that reminded me of God's loving faithfulness. Knowing that God hadn't failed me then helped me trust that he is still here for me now!

So, if you've never kept a journal/diary, I would definitely recommend it! You don't have to be a spy or an explorer to have something to write about and, contrary to popular belief, you don't have to write every day to experience the benefits of writing a record of your life!

And if all else fails, you can always tell your friends that you're famous. After all, why else would there be a book written about you?

Brilliant Blue!

I am not a city girl. I grew up very happily in the shelter of suburbia and wouldn't trade it for anything. However, being in the city is giving me a new perspective on things.

For example, the skyline is becoming one of my favorite things to see. Now, it's not always easy to see it with the psychotic weather here, but when it isn't raining, snowing, or covered in fog, that means that the sky is the most brilliant, delightful blue I have ever seen, unhindered by a single cloud. Every now and then, God decides to grace the city with his beauty and I look up and just want to stare and stare and stare. I don't know what it is, but somehow when I see the bright sun exposing all the buildings against the pure blue sky, I just have to take a deep breath of the crisp, clean air and smile.

Close browser. Make face time.

Have you seen those new Dentyne Ice adds? I've decided I really, really like them. Here's why:

I like Facebook. In fact, I'm a big fan. I love sharing pictures with people and keeping in touch with my friends' daily lives, even when I don't have time or the opportunity to chat with them on the phone. In fact, I recently gave a speech on the positive effects Facebook can have on friendships (if used correctly, of course). HOWEVER, I have a pet peeve when it comes to Facebook. A major pet peeve. It's not just with Facebook either. It applies to text messaging also.

I find it quite annoying when people use Facebook/texting as a substitute for actual conversations when I see them frequently!

It's one thing if a friend from another state wants to chat using Facebook/texting because, well, sometimes talking on the phone is just more difficult. I mean first you call the person, leave a message, they call you back, you call them back, you finally get in touch and then the signal's bad and you can barely here them, etc, etc. However, if you live less than a block from someone, or in the same building, just have face-to-face conversations!! For me, Facebook/texting has always been for short, necessary messages or occasional conversations with friends or relatives who I don't see often. But when a friend who I see daily, or at least a couple times a week, constantly uses Facebook/texting for self-disclosure, I find it very awkward and think it makes face-to-face interaction more uncomfortable.

Because of Facebook/texting people feel more free to share things they wouldn't otherwise share because they would not be comfortable sharing in person. I have come to realize that if you don't feel comfortable saying something face-to-face, you probably shouldn't say it through Facebook/texting either. Chances are, if you feel awkward about saying it, the other person will feel awkward hearing it because you do not know each other well enough yet.

Unfortunately, as I've realized this fault in other people, I am painfully aware that I do the same thing. So, in spite of my support of Facebook, I'm simply going to have to buck up and make face-to-face contact. But hey, that's how true friendships are made anyway! So, as Dentyne Ice says,

"Close Browser. Make Face Time."

Stress Management

Life is full of stressful situations. As work, obligations, appointments, chores, and duties become a mountain of threatening doom, it is easy to despair and feel hopeless about the future. If you find yourself daydreaming about natural disasters ("ya know, if a tornado hit town right about now...") or personal injury ("no one could blame me for not finishing this if I just happened to accidentally break my leg right now...") or nationwide crises ("If the country broke into mass chaos right now, no one would care about this stupid..."), then I can relate. I try desperately not to worry too much about stuff. I mean after all, most of the things I stress about won't matter in 20 years (actually, besides marriage and kids, I'm not sure what WILL matter in 20 years). So, to deal with stress I've come up with some Temporary Stress Reducers, known as TSRs. Simply try one of these beauties and you will forget your stress in NO time! I've found these ten to be the most effective for me:

1. Eat Chocolate.

2. Watch TV (especially The Office, it's practically like being at work anyway!)

3. Eat Chocolate cookies.

4. Check Facebook (I'm keeping in touch with friends! that's important! What kind of inconsiderate friend would I be if I didn't even know which new bumper sticker my friend is using to express the passions of her heart?)

5. Eat Chocolate ice cream.

6. Type in (random word).blogspot.com and try to find anything amusing or interesting. (This is for really desperate situations. Like when you've been avoiding the dishes for so long that you don't look at them anymore. They're so creepy when they stare at you like that!..and start following you around...and wearing your clothes...and asking for money...and taking up too much room on the couch...and...)

7. Eat Chocolate cake.

8. Clean. Specifically organizing my sock drawer... or my paper clips...whichever need is most pressing at the time.

9. Drink Hot Chocolate.

10. Write inane blogs about absolutely nothing important.

These methods are sure-fire ways of forgetting about all that annoying stress in your life! Although, they do make the "reality crash" at the end feel a bit more weighty. And I can't say I've ever gotten any useful information out of a blog I found randomly online, or from any of those conversations with my dishes... maybe it's best just to take it like a man and deal with all the stressful things! Rub some dirt in it and get back in there! Grab the bull by the horns! Buy a plane ticket for Bermuda! Run away to white sandy beaches and warm sun! Never think about anything ever again except when to roll over to get the perfect tan!

Sigh... or maybe I could just get back to work!

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words...Right?

For many people, communication can be stressful. For an introverted person, conversation can seem intrusive or simply exhausting. For an insecure person, conversations lead to worry and paranoia. For the average person, talking to a stranger tends to be at least a little awkward.

Although I definitely have an introverted/insecure/average side, I generally find that I can communicate without too much difficulty. However, a recent trip overseas showed me how difficult communication can be when you don't speak the same language. I don't think I've ever said, "Can you say that again?" so much in my life! It didn't take me long to learn that words are completely useless if the other person does not speak my language.

Pictures, on the other hand, are universal. When you show someone a picture of a mountain (generally speaking), they know it is a mountain, whether they call it that or not. That's why we invented stick figures and road sign symbols - so that everyone can understand them! At least... that's what I thought. After spending two weeks overseas, I learned that even pictures can sometimes be a mystery!

Example #1

At first glance, it appears this little man is stretching. Could this be a No Yoga Zone?

Maybe he's waving... this is a Friendly People Zone!

No... He's break dancing! or Disco! It's a Disco Dance Room!

Well, in context (the bathroom) it quickly became clear that this man is falling. It's a sign to warn you to be careful not to slip. Ok, that made sense, especially when we saw that the shower and bathroom were actually the same. (The shower head was on the wall next to the toilet) Under these circumstances your floor could get pretty slick. Plus, you might add, the picture is simply there to help. The words are there for a reason, I just couldn't understand them. So, ok. Maybe I was the only problem with this picture.

Example #2

This sign was a bit more difficult to decifer.

Clearly, it means ATTENTION! But why, I have no idea.

The context is this: a wall. a large wall with other walls nearby, in a park.

For some reason, it is necessary to pay attention to this wall.

Yet however long I looked I could not figure out why this wall was so important over the others.

Maybe it's structurally unstable, or maybe it's to help plows navigate in the winter.

Surely there is an explanation for this!

Maybe this is just a problem with interpretation...maybe I'm just not observant enough and I missed an obvious reason for this sign.

However, THIS one, I'm convinced, is an absolute mystery!
Example #3:

What is the meaning of this sign?!?!

After much deliberation and consultation with friends and family, these were the conclusions we came to:

No blowing up cars,

No making smores on the roof of your car,

No shooting flame throwers out your sunroof,

No firecrackers on the roof of your car,

OR

Blasting Zone: Wear a helmet

Clearly, sometimes words are just necessary!

P.S. This one isn't confusing, just amusing!

This was on the window of our tour bus:

ATTENTION Single College Men!

Tonight I witnessed one of the most beautiful sights in the world: a soon-to-be bride in her wedding dress. In the midst of my excitement for my friend and admiring the absolutely stunning dress I felt a slight pang of compassion for the single college male.
This is only my freshman year of college, but I have had the privilege of witnessing two girls on my floor get engaged (well, not witnessing, but hearing the stories right after it happened). The one girl is engaged to a Romanian man. For his proposal, he blindfolded her one night and led her to a place that his friends had prepared for the romantic occasion. In this large room, his friends had set up THOUSANDS of tea-lights in the shape of a giant heart and he carried her into the middle to propose. When she removed the blindfold, her eyes met with the most stunningly romantic sight a girl could want for her engagement. The girls on our dorm floor sighed for hours just at the thought of it!
However, I was not going to let my expectations be raised by a foreign proposal (as my friend claims, Romanians are the most romantic people in the world, but then again, I think she's a little biased). After all, in Romania an engagement is almost as binding a the marriage itself. in America, it's really awful if someone breaks off an engagement. In Romania, you just don't. So, naturally, you can't expect the same effort from an American guy, right?
Well, that brings me to the second engagement. This couple just started dating a few months ago, but they have been friends for a while. In addition, the guy is heading to Iraq for a year but got to see his lovely lady one last time before his departure. Naturally, they went sky diving!! Thousands of feet in the air, as they plummeted to the ground, he asked her to marry him. Maybe not classic romantic, but still AMAZING! I don't think she will ever meet another girl who can tell a story like that! Then, just to top off the amazing with a touch of sweetness, they went engagement ring shopping and picked out the ring together the next day. (They had never talked about marriage before then, so he didn't know what ring to get. Instead, when they landed he gave her a beautiful band that was inscribed in Hebrew, which has all sorts of adorable romantic significance that I do not have time to explain here).
All that to say, my thoughts begin to imagine what will happen when the next girl finds her man on one knee. Who knows what incredible feat he may attempt! This has stirred in my heart a compassion for single college guys who hope to marry someday. My word of advice is this: Guys, if you have a girl, PROPOSE! QUICK! Before she gets any more ideas! And if you don't have a girl, find one SOON! And be aware that you may have to build her a house, or take her to Hawaii, or mine the diamond with your bare hands BEFORE she says yes.



P.S. Picture from Syllipsi Photography - syllipsiphoto.com - They're awesome! Check them out!

One Point for the Feminists

I am definitely not a feminist. I often roll my eyes at those females who INSIST that they can do anything a guy can do. I have no problem letting guys be the strong ones and carry all the heavy things and do the hard manual labor. In fact, I am always impressed when a guy notices me struggling with something and offers to help or, even better, to carry it for me. What can I say? I was raised by a Daddy who is always a gentleman and who trained my awesome older brother to be a gentleman as well! So, I love it when I meet other gentlemen who open doors and carry heavy things for me!

All that aside, I have recently found that there is one place where my femininity falls by the wayside and I find myself trying to out-do the guys around me: the weight room. For some reason, everything in me wants to be able to see a guy lifting weights and say (to a nearby female, I would never rob a man of his masculinity by saying this to his face) "I can lift more than that!" Weight lifting in its essence is a rather masculine thing to do, so I guess that explains this strange, yet persistent, urge to beat a guy at his own game.

Fortunately for the males in the weight room (and to the relief of my feminine side), I have been unable to attain this goal. Occasionally, I will see a guy lifting less than I do, but before the boasting words of triumph can leave my mouth I realize that he's doing twice as many repetitions, or, as happened one time, he is only using one leg where I use both. The beast within continues to wait in anticipation, but my hopes are not quite as high as they once were.

HOWEVER, today I had an experience that temporarily satisfied the monster. I had just laid down on a bench to do sit-ups when I heard a guy say, "Woah, is that a bruise?" Noticing him staring at my knee, I figured he was talking to me and responded in the affirmative.

"How did that happen?" he asked.

"Oh, a girl fell on me at practice."

"Wow, I've never had a bruise like that!"

With those few words that guy made my day! Yes!!!!!! I had out-done a guy in the weight room! Granted, it had nothing to do with lifting weights, but that didn't matter to my exaltant little mind! I had won!

I don't know what I said after that, but I know that while I remained calm and indifferent on the outside, the beast was dancing for joy. Oh, the bliss of victory!

Tears, Toys, and Rope Trains

Today I helped out in the Nursey at church for the second time. I am still amazed that one room can contain so many one-year-olds. I counted today: there were 26 toddlers and nine helpers. On one hand, today went very well. The little boy last week who cried for a good 10 minutes before I finally got him interested in the slide, only cried for about 30 seconds this week and played happily the rest of the morning. That is, until he fell off a toy and bumped his head...right before his mom walked in to get him. *sigh* I tried to convince her that he had a great time, but I'm not too sure she believed me.

On the other hand, today's service was long and the kids knew it! I have never had so many toddlers ask me to pick them up before. For the most part, they were good and played nicely, but as soon as one set of parents showed up to collect their child they ALL wanted to leave! Other than a few who were still playing (the ones that I cleverly used as excuses to avoid the screaming masses), the entire class was crying and begging to be let out. As soon as one was distracted, another would start crying!

My favorite moment of the morning was when some of the leaders took six of the little ones for a "walk." They had a rope chain and had the kids hold onto it, then led them out into the hallway. I don't know what they expected to happen, but about ten minutes later all of them were in the class again and I overheard the one leader saying, "As soon as we got out the door they all let go of the rope and scattered in every direction!" My thoughts exactly. Oh well, live and learn! With toddlers, Sunday is always an adventure!

Candyland

Most people consider the game Candyland as a simple game for children. However, it is well known amongst Candyland experts that the game was originally a contact sport. The game first came to being in 1806 by a tribe of indigenous people in the rainforests of southern Brazil. The children of the tribe would make dyes out of different color leaves and each child would choose a different color with which to dye themselves. Then the group would pick one person to be the "caller." The Caller was usually a child not participating in the game who was totally oblivious to the actions of their peers. After painting themselves, the children would then sneak up on the Caller and tackle him or her all at once.

The Caller (who usually knew the rules of the game from previous experience) would have to chase the other children based on which color(s) of paint rubbed off on his or her skin during the tackling. The fleeing children had to find something matching the paint color on their skin to be "safe." That object would be considered "base." If the Caller managed to overpower and tackle one of the children before that child reached his or her base, that child would be "out" and the Caller could chase after another child (if they hadn't already reached their bases). Once all the children were safe, they would all wash off the dye and put on a new color.

The ultimate goal was to wear all the colors before anyone else. This could be difficult because the Caller can only chase those children whose dye came off on his or her skin. Thus, it was important to make a good tackle. If a child's dye did not come off on the Caller, that child could not change dyes and had to do the same color over again. Another rule that made the game more challenging was that if the Caller could pin one of his or her tacklers to the ground before the child could run, that child was automatically "out." Therefore, those children proficient in hard, quick tackling usually won the game. Extra colors were also awarded to those children with the most bruises at the end of each round. Those with life-threatening flesh wounds won automatically.

But as usual, the game eventually made its way north to America, where some over-zealous safety-conscious school board declared the game "unsafe for children." Instead they used the idea of colorful children running through an exciting forest to get all the colors to form a board game. This worked until halfway through the first game when one participant realized how easy it was to cheat. However, the school board decided dishonesty was all right as long as their children were free from physical ailments.

In the meantime, the members of the school board adapted the game into something they called "football" for adults, but they all eventaully taught it to their kids anyway. And that's how the revolution known as American Football began.