"There was solidarity."

Spring Quarter is shaping up to be interesting. Interesting, well, that's vague, but nothing else really sums it up quite like that. It seems I have one professor every quarter who is terribly intimidating, and they turn out to be incredibly dear to me. Monday I walked into my World Lit class to encounter a tall skinny woman with a German accent. I couldn't say exactly why she was intimidating, but today I realized it is because she never looks at anything. Moreover, she inspects things. Instead of looking at me when I'm blabbering about how revealing the bottom of page 16 is, she is inspecting me.

She's no less intimidating than Monday, but I think I like her already. She loves African lit particularly, I think that helps. Her face morphs into a brilliant excitement when a good discussion unravels, and I'm starting to like the fact that her eyes have never just glazed over something for the roughly four hours I've been in her presence.

Seems as though everything I was reading before the quarter started must be put on hold until summer. We're going to be racing through books in World Lit, and I have a good deal of work before me in Philosophy. I'm taking another Geology course because, as it turns out, I enjoy Geology, in addition to a needed sequence requirement.

One book I cannot put down regardless of my class work is The New Friars by Scott Bessenecker. I would recommend it to anyone whose heart the Lord tugs at for impoverished brothers and sisters. If you were moved by Claiborne's The Irresistible Revolution, I can't imagine not being moved by this as well. It contains more detailed insight into the problem of poverty, and overviews some different organizations and people whom our Savior has used for His work among the poor.

Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembga, a novel I'm reading for World Literature, is a compelling read as well. Delves into the effects of Colonialism in Africa, gender roles in traditional African society, and women in education.

"These were complex, dangerous thoughts that I was stirring up, not the kind that you can ponder safely but the kind that become autonomous and malignant if you let them." p.39

"It was almost like a wedding with music and movement pulsing through the night to make your skin crawl and tingle, your armpits prickle, your body impatient to be up and concerned with the beat." p.42

"First you took his tongue so that he could not speak to me and now you have taken everything, taken everything for good." p.54

Yesterday at work I had to stop doing things for a second to write down this stream of images and thoughts that pounced into my mind as soon as the song, It's Beginning To Get To Me by Snow Patrol came on. Reminded me of:
Green. Of rushing water and holding on to a branch and freedom. Of adventuring and of so fast. Then of the sun beginning its journey downward and bare feet and now the Westerville lights are on. Don't step on gravel.

My favorite part is the last bit. If you think that is an oddity, you should see the rest of what my brain produces...

Apparently the Eyes Open album came out when it was warm outside.

Lately during my forays into the beautiful streets of surrounding areas, destination target heart rate, my mind is a boggle of confusion about the future. It is such a blessing that my future is in the Lord's hands. I control nothing. I just want to continually let Him have it all, because my immense confusion about my desire to call the slums my abode and what in the world is going to come of me once I graduate with a major in the college of Humanities...is overwhelming when I think of it in terms of self-control. I love taking things over and not sharing control. I love making plans.

But most, I love it when my foolish plans are thrown into the nearest garbage can [or recycled if best] to make room for His Divine blueprints.


He always saves us from ourselves.

"Turns out, she's actually pretty short." Grant on a Disney Princess

"Drove to Chicago..."

Early in the morning I will depart for Chicago with Jackie and Grant. I feel compelled to note that Jackie and I are not taking a spare change of clothes, or much else for that matter. We will be there through Thursday morning. I think I'm sleeping on Eva's floor, but I'm not certain. In all actuality, it might be Grant's floor, though since I think he is moving into someone's basement in the city... floor room might be sparse. Maybe the floor of someone one of our friends knows. Or any floor we are permitted to slumber upon. We are going to explore parts of the city we've not seen before, and become acquainted with Grant's future campus [read: Moody]. We are going to pray. We are going to hopefully drink mint tea. We will most likely sing often and learn some.

I realize this is only a few days, and our sacrifices may seem small, but I'm looking forward to the simplicity of it all.

I reckon we'll have a jolly good time. Pray for our safe travels if you think of us in your stillness, or if you think of us in your hustle-bustle. Whichever.

Rosie & Co.

"And I sang a song her mother sang to her
And it goes something about paper dolls and what men prefer
Something about the cross and how her Jesus died for her."

I can't wait to listen to more of Rosie Thomas/Sufjan/Denison Witmer together. These Friends Of Mine provides serious reason to believe that making music with friends>making music solo.

[I took a train all the way to Brooklyn Heights...]
[I have much farther to go]
[I'm not sure where that is]

Seek His joy in times of waiting, He is so perfect, so good, so adventurous.

He has much farther to lead.
I have much farther to follow.

"We have a sitchen in the kitchuation..." -Jacob

Springing ahead tonight/today. This year, I cannot afford to be conquered by daylight savings time. In fact, I've mentally outlined my day for tomorrow, including the new time and the "would-be" time so that I will be awake and showered on time, two dogs and three cats will be fed on their biological clocks, and I will have enough time to put gas in my car and maybe read some anthro before church with the 'rents, followed by church+.

Meanwhile, great discussion tonight with great people about time and phenomenology on the whole. Also, any discussion of Kierkegaard at length is typically appreciated by this girl.

Good-night. [Sneak up on DST before it sneaks up on you.]

I mean it

If you have any of the following printers, and want free cartridges (one black, also three individual cyan/magenta/yellow) tell me:

EPSON
C64/C66/C84/C86/CX4600/CX6400/CX6600

I don't have an Epson anymore, but I'd hate to throw them away, seriously, just take them from me.

[EDIT]: Home found for lost cartridges.

Silly harmony

I realize that this and the previous few entries have been rather lacking in thought, but nonetheless I feel this in particular should be noted. I just hula-hooped in my kitchen for an extensive period of time. Sometimes I think I have better things to do than hula-hoop in my kitchen, while contemplating the piece of art containing a parrot made out of painted pebbles on my wall and its neighboring homemade kite. I scarcely do. I cannot explain this, it is a phenomena recently born within me, but I insist you take my word for it.

One cannot remain so serious and grave while hula-hooping. Perhaps this is why. The Source of joy must not go unnoticed in instances like these.

"He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: Praise Him."
[my brother-man Gerard]

Gerard would perhaps wince at this [though I could probably present a fairly decent argument that hula-hooping is an abstract form of his beloved sprung rhythm], but I think the beauty of hula-hooping amongst appliances while looking at goofy art is past change. Praise Him.

hmm...

I can only hope it is acceptable to eat Chinese food while writing a paper on African literature. Where is kola and palm-wine when you need it...

"I love puffy paint, I used to have a drawer full of it."

Always make sure your roommate has a decent supply of puffy paint before signing a lease. You never know when an impromptu craft session will need to take place. Life has to stop for crafts, sometimes.

[EDIT: A helpful thing is when said roommate in possession of puffy paint has a boyfriend who, upon noticing your frustration with a certain research paper, offers to bring you "your favorite thing, anything."]

no sweat

My beautiful small group girls are so much fun and truly delight in the Lord, such a blessing.
I just applied for a passport.
Been looking into sweatshops all morning-- I tell you, it doesn't take much to get me seriously interested in reading an article or website, and then they have links that are interesting, and those pages have links full of perspective and information I'm curious about, and so on and so forth.

I should really consider providing links to things. I've no quick way of doing this, as the simple html for links that used to be memorized is no longer stored up there in my brain, or rather, I am no longer able to pull it from the stacks. If the brain were a library, it would be as if I deleted the card without item records or without creating a LibHas statement. The information may be there, but I'm just searching for hypertext markup language and results are indicating it is not being stored here (my brain). Enough of this.

My pile of research is beckoning, so I'm going to try to pry myself away from my sweatshop findings.

"When you wake up, if you're very lucky, you'll be in Utah."

Please listen to this if you have about twenty-six minutes. It sounds like a long time, but if you're near things to do, like knitting, card making, cleaning or folding clothes then you're just being told a story while you are productive!

http://audio.thisamericanlife.org/podcast/307.mp3

If you love the Russian mind, or the misery of life, or adventure, then listen to this (Act One). Also take note of how the journalist narrating sounds frighteningly like Luke Opplinger. That makes things a little more interesting.


Just in case you absolutely cannot hear the story enriched by the Russian accent and Luke O voice, here are some fantastic quotes:

Alex: "I was even singing a song walking, and the birds were screaming something to me, and I'm like "yeah!" you know, I made it!"

Alex: "I was thinking, 'how in the hell did I get myself into this situation?' I never believed that something like this could happen in New York City, you know, in such a huge city that you could see sky scrapers like ten miles away, and the other side you can die looking at them. You know? And also I got a little mad at the city of New York, you know, like I could understand if they just had like one pay phone there, or at least, I don't know, like a button to press, to know that you're there, you know?"
[In reference to being on a nearby island]

Alex: "I like badgers for the same reason probably I like the state of Utah, where I never was, you know? It's like, something that has some kind of uh, what's it called, like a secret or it's hiding or it's like they attract me in the way that they might be hiding something cool from me."

Alex: "I think if I was a boring person and stayed at home all the time and be like a nerd I would never get into this situation so I think this happened uh, strictly because I was with the right people, at the right time, in the right situation, you know?"
Narrator: "Think about that. Every step of the way, by almost any measure, Alex could not have been more wrong. It takes a special kind of grace to turn that into 'right time, right place'"