Tuesday. This is Tuesday. Not Thursday.

A new semester begins, and, as I've always said, as long as there is God and coffee, life is good!

Well, I've always wanted to say that, anyway.

Now, here is the part where I hit the fast-forward button so you all don't have to read through any incessant whinings and grumblings about not getting any respect about not going to college: pffffffftttttttttyyyyyyyyyyssssssssllllllllllllllllllllltheyjustdon'tunderstandjjjjjjjjjjjrrrrrrrllllllllccccccciIamreallydoingthingsdfdjjjjjjjjjjjjjttttttttdddddddddddslslsllslslsllllllliiiuuuuuuandtheycanjustgetoveritkjkjkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkjjjjjjjhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmaybeIshouldjustgetoverthemtttttttllllllwwwwwwhhhhchangemymentalityvvvvvmmmmmqqqqoooooppppptttttttttbetterpersonjjjjjjjttttttlllllllllnkkkkkknotdoinganythingdifferentkklllleeeooootppppppccvccccdddddddddddohgoodgrief.

Now, with that behind me, I would like to say I am going to start blogging more. For real this time. For real real this time. For REAL real reall this time!!!

Look, I'll start right this moment (Jessica, you are already blogging) (shh, be quiet, I'm blogging!!):

This bright, sunny, beautiful morning, I rose out of bed with a shout of glee, for life is beautiful, just like the sunshine. However, when I really woke up, it was dark still. The Beatles CD that has been sitting in my CD player/clock alarm for the past two weeks woke me up AGAIN, reminding me I had stayed up too late AGAIN. I fell back asleep for 20 minutes, woke up on my own accord and remembered that I wanted to be awake. To read and drink coffee.

Thrown out of bed by this delicious prospect (which never ceases to be the best thing EVER to do upon first waking up), I dashed to the coffee maker, ground my favorite dark French roast from Trader Joe's, turned the pot on, and went back into my room for Kiss and my fuzzy blanket. The coffee brewed, I poured myself a cup, and snuggled up with my doggie to read. I am trying to read this book slower than I really want to, because I don't want to start a new book until Thursday when we leave for the beach. Soooooo I have to stop being obsessed with what happens next. Wow, the first time in my life I want to be slow at reading. Weirdness.

I worked out some, ate breakfast, and made up my mind to blog. Which is what I am doing now.

Somehow I had gotten into my head that all of my blog entries must contain deep philosophy, theology, or something else of that nature, so I guess that, along with not having a ton of time...

If my mother gets hit by a car going 55 mph because she is standing in the middle of the road talking to somebody who was driving by, then I am going to be very angry at her for doing something she would have told me not to. Humph.

....caused me to not write much at all. And still, this entry does not seem complete without philosophy. So! I will make a little list of philosophical musings (aka plaguing questions and chin-stroking thoughts) on my mind recently, and maybe I'll pick one to elaborate on in a later entry:

1. Why do people think they have the right to give anybody and everybody advice? Especially if they barely know that person...and they don't know they whole story? I meet new people all the time who ask me what I am doing with my life. I begin to tell them, and then the immediately solicit advice that I never asked for and don't want to hear. I don't care if I'm having a bad attitude.....okay, fine.

Better attitude thoughts:

2. God opens doors only at the moments when they are supposed to be opened. Not a moment before. There's no need for them just to stand open. But if I come to a door and it's closed, I just need to keep moving down the corridor of life till I come to another open one, right?

3. God puts us through pain to draw us closer to him and make us more fit for heaven. Bad things happen so he can mold us for the betterment of ourselves for this world and the next. It's all in his plans. God can stop Satan, but sometimes he sees that if he lets Satan have his way, God can use it for much better good than if God never let it happen.

4. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. He doesn't do this for no reason, and he doesn't do it cruelly. He doesn't give us a glimpse or a teaser at something wonderful and then snatch it out from under our noses. That is what I thought this verse meant for a long, long time. But that isn't what it means at all. There is a time for everything. There was a time, almost 4 years, in fact, where God let me swim. I swam three days a week, and I swam meets. I won races. I had a wonderful time, found a hobby I love, stayed in shape, made some of the greatest friends in the universe, developed a good competitive spirit, discovered an interest in health and fitness, figured out my siblings and I have a magical genetic bent towards swimming (thus getting my entire family involved on the team), among other things. Most importantly, the whole experience made me grow closer to God. Had I never joined swim team, I might be in an awful place now, because even at 15 I was heading down a rotten banana peel path full of rebellion and hatred.

But, like I said, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. I'm officially aged out of competition now. I'm too busy to attend more than one practice a week. I won't get to see my friends as often. I'll get slow. I will pray I don't get fat (even though I continue to work out at home, I need that swimming cardio). But now is not the time in my life to swim several days a week and compete. That time has passed. And, while it makes me sad, God has other plans for me now, and that is comforting.

Do not worry, dear readers (if you're still out there after a very long break). I will soon get back into my this-is-what-happened-today-and-this-is-what-I've-been-thinking-lately blogging mode. It will take practice and perseverence, but it shall come about. After all, if I can't do it now, you'll never hear how Oregon goes.

So long (hopefully not very long)!

~Jessica

Warning: This Post Contains Trouting Thoughts

For those of you who know what I mean by trouting, have your nice reflective chuckle and then sip your decaffeinated coffee and read on.  For those of you who wonder why I am referring to fish on my blog when I do not particularly like fishing and would not be able to tell whether I was eating a catfish or a flounder were I served one of the two at the local seafood joint, 'tis your loss you didn't read my blog in the early days.  Oh, yes, it's been a while.....do not go back and read post number one.  It is probably boring and contains nothing about trouting.  Just stick with me here.

So I was feeling rather frustrated today, as I have been for about two weeks now.  Okay, frustrated is not the right word.  More like....um....troubled.  Or...er...oh, what is that word I always think of when I see a Gothic person?  It's on the tip of my tongue.  Oh, yes!  Conflicted.  I have felt quite conflicted for an estimated 10,000,000 reasons, all of which I couldn't put my finger on.  Many of them would come to mind, and I would get quite distraught over one thing before another thing would come up, and then another, and another, and pretty soon my head would be bustling with so much commotion that left my head and for a while my mainstream thought processes all took place in my esophagus (it wasn't very comfortable there, either, but it was better than my brain...and I wouldn't dare step near my heart, as it was surely much worse).  All of that to say that today I finally decided to stop putting off writing all that was in my brain down on paper, which is the only way I am able to keep anything straight and stay sane ("sane" probably being arguable to some people, but I am not asking those some peoples' opinions at this moment).  So, this entry took an hour and 45 minutes and was eleven pages long, which surprisingly did not top the record 14-page long journal entry of June, 2007 (and it wasn't even very interesting, but instead detailed three days worth of happenings, including the first meet of the season that the Seahawks won, a little meaningless piece about un-visiting with people, and the time when Sarah and I decided to start a trend of sitting on the black line on the pool deck).  Keep in mind that I do not have the pretty little diary that most girls have.  I just use 10 1/2 by 8 inch 1-subject spiral bound notebooks (they are good for long journal entries).  

AnyHOOness, I sorted through all my problems (looking back I now see that my handwriting is smaller than it was a year and a half ago, so that means that this entry probably would have been 14 pages had I written bigger), drew lots of conclusions, said lots of prayers, and I feel 97% better!  Now, as I was writing I started getting on the subject about how, in the course of my short life, I have come to know a few exceptional guys who have walked into my life just long enough for me to stop being annoyed with them and start wishing they would stick around more, and then they seem to just waltz back out just as daintily as they came.  (NOTE:  if you are a current/long-time guy friend of mine reading this, then I am probably not talking about you.  However, I beg you not to feel insulted.  I just take you for granted, that is all *winks*.)  

Gee, I want a Bolthouse Farms coffee drink right now!!  *resists temptation to jump in the car and go to the store*

So I started wondering, "why does it always happen to me?"  Well, it does, because I am me and as far as I know, I am the only one that anything happens to.  Aside from that shortsighted observation....um, anyways.  So the "nearly ideal" guy comes into my life.  I think, "wow, he is....everything I could have ever hoped for!"  The guy plays the piano, loves to read Charles Dickens, will talk philosophy with me, is mature, is family-oriented, shares the same ambitions as I do, wants a life I want, wants to homeschool his kids, makes me feel safe.....what more could I ask for?  So I get a little seed for the guy and I plant it in my heart, and a little plant grows for this guy.  It's not love, exactly.  I think it is a sense of completion that I long for that feels fulfilled by this guy.  So the plant grows and grows and then something happens.  Contact is lost somehow, or I just get forgotten, and it's like the plant is ripped off from its base.  The problem is, the roots are still there and  they are deep.  And once I finally finish digging the roots out, there is a hole and a lot of dirt gone where the plant used to be.  And the hole aches in an empty kind of way.  I get confused because something that was there is suddenly gone.  It's like he died, but not really.  When someone dies they are gone from this earth but they are still in your heart.  The only thing left of this guy is his hole in my heart.  And suddenly I wish I had never known him.  After a while I get used to the hole, but I can still feel it.  

So then I start feeling insecure and wondering if something is the matter with me, and conclude that I am nowhere near anybody's "near ideal" of a wife.  Because if I was, then these wonderful guys would be a little more desperate to have me around, right?  Hmph.  Well, it's not like that mattered before, right?  So why should it matter now?  (don't you just hate it when insecure feelings creep up on you when you wish they wouldn't?)  So I ignored that idea, and then immediately got another epiphany--what if I am only perfect for one guy?

O-M-G-!-!-!

What a concept, eh?  Why didn't I think of that before?  Here I was, suddenly wishing lots of guys would be in love with me for some stupid reason (the stupid reason being for my wishing, not for why the guys would like me), and all along how could I have not seen that that isn't the way it should be anyways?

So (in my journal, in the last paragraph on page 8 of the entry) I decided to pose the question to myself so as to make my point perfectly clear, "What would I rather be?  Seemingly perfect to several guys who all pursue me but none of whom may be the right one, for actually perfect for one guy?"  

Really and truly?  The second one.  I mean, with me and my female runaway romantic imagination and all, I can't help but look at the latter option and sigh, thinking, "how sweet!"  I mean, sure...anybody wants to be loved, adored, and respected by multiple members of the opposite sex.  But I like to think I have a soul mate out there, and that he and I are perfect for one another, even if neither of us seems like the ideal to anyone else.  And you know what?  Less hearts get broken that way!  

Plus, I am not all of who I will be in the next two-to-five years when I hope to be married.  I will grow a lot in that period, and while my personality will mostly stay the same, I am sure I will go through a lot that changes me.  My childishness and selfishness will get chiseled off, and the experiences I will have will "potentialize" me and make me into a fuller version of myself.  I am not perfect for someone right now, but I will be one day.  *dwells on that happy thought*

Love and Peace or Else,

~Jessica            

   

I Feel Rejuvenated!!

So yesterday I went to Wake Tech for my British Literature class. Most of you should know that I have a lot of fun in that class, so you can imagine my great and terrible disappointment when we (Elizabeth B. and me, that is) walked around the corner and there was nobody waiting in front of the classroom. A couple friends walking from the door of the classroom informed Elizabeth and me that the class was cancelled, but to sign the role on the door before leaving. With a great reluctance that only Elizabeth seemed to understand, I drearily signed my name and then stared off into the distance, wondering what to do for the next hour and a half. I was still in quite a slump that I had gotten into Monday morning (the same one that caused me to slackishly skip the morning and then the evening Masters swim practices), so by this time I had officially concluded it was not a Monday thing, but just a "thing" brought upon by some unknown source which cause un-productivity and feelings of meaningless and slight depression...as well as a lack of motivation. I can hear you all going, "Oh...that kind of slump...is 'slump' even the right word?"


Yes, that kind...and I don't know. That's why I'm hearing you all asking whether slump is the right word.


Suddenly it occurred to me as I looked out into the Tobacco-haze that there was a McDonald's up the street and that they had coffee. Good coffee. I suggested this to Elizabeth and she said that perhaps we should go to this other place instead...which has a name that I cannot remember, but it's very like Starbucks. And, preferring the coffee-shop environment to the very plastic-feeling environment at McDonald's, I agreed.


While we were there we got to talking (okay, we were already talking, but once we sat down we started talking about something else) about slumps. Apparently she had been in one, too. So we talked, and decided that the best way to get out of it was to actually do something (a little altering of advice from a couple of Bible studies, the book of Revelations, and Dr. Laura played a little part). So we got our school stuff and made a decision to work on it. So we started discussing Beowulf, and then a friend from Elizabeth's sculpture class came in and we talked a while with her...and then we had to go. But when we got up, everything was different. All that talking about slumps and making official decisions to DO something and not be in them anymore.........made all the difference. We felt great!!!

That morning I had driven with a straight face, staring straight ahead, with the windows cracked and the music on, but not very high. I was bored, and wanted nothing better than to be rid of my brain so I could just stop thinking altogether. After the coffee shop, I rolled the windows all the way down, blasted my music (Nickel Creek, for the record), and completely rocked out. I had to set cruise control so I wouldn't go too fast.....

The rest of my day was spent relatively well. Instead of being in a fog I was Claritin Clear, in a great big bubble of happiness, bouncing around, smiling and singing and feeling so amazingly joyful that I couldn't imagine going back to being in such a funk. Lesse...I wrote a blog for the Quotes Only blog, looked up squash recipes, decided to make up my own recipe instead, went squash-shopping, picked up Marck, Hannah, and Noah from swim (in the mean time speaking for a brief moment to the rest of my homies), came home, experimented with the squash, ate said experiments, decided they were good, but to not put so much sugar on them next time, made a video with Marck, worked on my Beowulf composition (it's sounding better since I'm out of that darned mood and can actually think straight), sat around outside with no point whatsoever but didn't mind, and cleaned up the kitchen. I feel absolutely fantastic.

And there's water polo tomorrow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, I do believe there's such a thing as over-use of exclaimation points. What are you trying to say?

A Tale of a Tuesday Morning

YES...I know it's Thursday now. And this will have to actually be short because somehow in the process of playing the guitar I sprained my left pinky finger, and it hurts exceedingly terrible. Okay, that was a bad attempt at being descriptive. Nonetheless, if any q's, a's, or z's are missing from my narrative, you know why.

So Tuesday morning, I was rendered Groggy Beyond Repair. After I had driven out of the driveway only to be almost run over by a car speeding up the hill and around the curve (we don't really have an ideal location for our driveway), I made up my mind that in order to prevent any more accidents, I must get some coffee. Sure, I had already had one cup, but that was 3 1/2 hours before I had gotten in the car! So I was off to Starbucks.

I walked in quickly, wanting to get out of the humidity as soon as possible. You must understand, humidity does abhorable things to my hair. I will not go into detail...you'll see for yourself sooner or later. So I shuffled over to the cash register, and a blonde woman with freckles and plastic-rimmed glasses said to me "Hiiii-ya, what can I get you this morning?!?!?!" in a very valley-girl sort of accent, in a very hyper fashion. It seemed innocent enough...typical Starbuckian behavior.

I said, "I'll take a grande caramel latte with whip and drizzle."
Before I could get past the grande caramel latte part, however, she said, "Grande caramel latteeeeeee, good choice!!!"

So I tried to repeat myself, "With whip and drizzle, please..."

Before I could get past saying "whip" again, she exclaimed, "With whip, oh, awesome!! Would you like drizzle on that too at no extra charge?"

"Yes," I muttered, attempting to act pleasant.

"Alright, that will be *insert actual price that I cannot remember here*."

So, I had two giftcards that looked exactly the same. I thought that I had marked one with a "B" because it was from Barb, and left the one from Elayna without any markings on it, so I could remember which one had more money on it. Alas, all I could find was one blank and one with a number "2" on the front. Being really really really sleepy as stated before, I concluded that the one from Barb was the one with nothing written on it, even though I had gotten the one from her second, so naturally I would have written number "2" on it.

I gave the lady the blank card, and she scanned it, looked at the screen for a second, and then started rambling on about something. I'm sure I looked at her quite confusedly, and perhaps I was the one in the wrong because I was not fully awake. But she kept saying, "You owe, like, two dollars and eighty-seven cents on your card."

I blinked cluelessly.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" She asked, still in valley girl mode.

"Uh...no," I confessed.

"I scanned your card, and now you, like, owe, like, two dollars and eighty-seven cents on it," she repeated, handing the card back to me.

"Oh..." I nodded. And then, being sleepy, as usual, I just handed her the $50 bill I had in my wallet, instead of reaching in for the other Starbucks card. Somehow in that moment I had also acquired the notion that Barb had given me a card with only $1 on it, instead of the actual $15.

Because of the fifty, it took her a long time to make change. In that lengthy moment, I finally put two and two together and realized I had used the wrong card. She gave me my change and said that momentarily my drink would b up.

I threw the old card away and waited what seemed like an eternity for my drink, which the Valley Girl Coffee Lady also made, while talking to all her co-workers about who-knows-what, in that same accent. The only good thing about it was that she wasn't paying her entire attention to what she was doing, and gave me a LOT of whipped cream.

That was my only consolation.

I sped out of the shop with my drink, drove around the shopping center a couple times searching for an exit facing in the direction I wanted to go, and finally sped on out of there to school. To calm my rage (rather, a constant rolling of my eyes--so I'm not sure how I got there in one piece), I was able to find a parking spot fairly quickly that WASN'T in Alaska.

This morning I went to the same shopping center, but instead of the main Starbucks, I went to the one inside Harris Teeter. What wonderful reasonable people work there!! Well, the barista didn't give me SO much whipped cream...but to actually deal with a sane race made that a minor setback.

And I found an even closer parking space this morning... :D

The Little Conference – Day Two

1. I drank 3 cups of coffee
2. It’s spelled “Andrew Pudewa”, not “Andrew Pudawa”
3. He gave a GREAT keynote speech which I will probably blog more about on a later date after I’ve read some things he recommended people to during the speech by John Taylor Gatto
4. I never saw the really nice, sweet guy named Will again…it was very sad
5. I concluded I wanted to go into the wilderness to find myself and breech the path into adulthood
6. My parents concluded that they were not going to let me do this
7. *very large sigh on the account of item #6*
8. There was this annoying guy who kept staring at me and started pathetically tossing a football around very near me while his brother helped another family load up their van (which he was supposed to be doing), and we loaded up ours. I made a point to not give him the slightest satisfaction of having any of my attention (aside from noticing how annoying he was in the first place).
9. My mom and I actually TALKED to THE Andrew Pudewa
10. I went to a session on distance education and now I’m not sure AGAIN what I want to do with myself…AAAARRRRRGGGGGG!!!!!! (puts away pirate hat, sword, and eye patch hastily and looks around as if nothing happened)
11. As we were leaving…guess who I saw!!! Keith and Kristen Getty, just walking around!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
12. Oh, and I saw Josh C., too…he and I said “Hi” and “see you at water polo”
13. Some random kid said I should do gymnastics in the Olympics
14. I avoided my urge to tell him that having not done gymnastics for 12 years and being 5’ 8” didn’t really qualify me for doing that
15. We went to Kabuki Steakhouse for dinner
16. It was yummy, but some lady kept complaining about the freshness of her pickled ginger, and left.
17. We declared her a Sushi Diva
18. We went to Target for dog food and I looked at the clothes longingly
19. I went outside to sing with the crickets……this song (click "more info" on the sidebar for the lyrics), among a few of my own…
20. I fell asleep on the deck of the office
21. I woke up, freezing, grabbed my guitar, went inside, and went to bed

Well, it was a nice day…