2008 in Review: Part I

Here was the introduction to a blog post written in January:

"And now for my New Year's resolutions. I usually forget about these within a week and have fun looking back on them and laughing at myself at the next new year ("I said I would do what?"). But either way, they're too fun to resist. So, here are my goals for 2008 for anyone to see (and to hold me accountable too)"

I couldn't have been more right. Looking back at my resolutions, I squirmed a bit with embarrassment and definitely laughed at myself. Here were my "resolutions," followed by the true outcome...

Resolution #1: Run a marathon.
Reality: Plans to run the NY Marathon fell through, probably for the best, but I did run an 8 mile run for a non-profit org in November, which is a start.

Resolution #2: READ MORE.
Reality: Hmm... I did post a VERY AMBITIOUS list of books I hoped to read and/or reread this year. Sadly, the only two books from that list I read were Atonement by Ian McEwan and The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. I did, however, get to read some other good ones, like High Fidelity by Nick Hornby, that were unexpected but very worth while.

Resolution #3: Attack my scrapbooking box. I don't expect to be a master scrapbooker (in fact, I hope to never become a super scrapbooky person... it's just not me) but I need to at least sort through all that STUFF this year.
Reality: HA HA HA.

Resolution #4: Cut back on my "addictions" ... caffeine, gum, and chocolate.
Reality: Although moving to a country for 5 months that does not sell Vault Zero or sticks of Polar Ice gum does naturally help you cut back on those products, I developed new tastes and addictions. I instead discovered a love for lattes and Diet Coke, and ate Cadbury chocolate by the pound. And now that I'm back in the States, I'm chewing Polar Ice more than ever.

Resolution #5: Wear my retainer!
Reality: I think I actually improved in this category, but not as much as I'd hoped. Instead of wearing it the usual 4 times a year average, I might have broken in double digits... but definitely not more than 12 times.

Resolution #6: And, this one should be automatic, but I need to spend more time with God.
Reality: Yes, and no. England didn't exactly help my faith, but it did help me realize all the spiritual comforts of fellowship I take for granted. I also had the blessing of a Bible Study that was very beneficial while it lasted, but sadly, has had to dissolve since most of the members moved away.

Despite these shortcomings, I still feel drawn toward coming up with more goals for 2009. Maybe this time I'll just set the bar a lot lower. =)

of life, and death, and the life after death

The last thought I held in my mind as I fell asleep last night was that I just don't make any sense.

This isn't exactly a new revelation, just a thought that was confirmed in the light of some recent insights. Last night Zach and I went to see Fincher's "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button." The movie was pretty good, but definitely had it's faults which I won't get sidetracked into discussing here. But the point is, this movie brings up over and over the problem of aging, and death, and the fact that nothing ever lasts...

This got me thinking about, you guessed it, life, and death, and aging, and the sad reality that nothing on this earth lasts. And this is where I become confused and conflicted.

I believe in heaven, in redemption, in eternal life after this flawed existence, but for some reason, I still hang on to this life more dearly than I ever should. I feel like that truth that "nothing ever lasts" should come as a comfort, not a burden... This troubled life won't last forever; there is a new and perfect life to come. But it really doesn't. I don't know at what point in my life I stopped looking forward to heaven, but when I think about heaven now, I feel nothing. I have no dislike or fear of heaven, nothing that would ever make me not want to be there after this earthly life, but I don't have any desire for it either. It feels blasphemous to even say, but it's true.

I'm too attached to this life, too wrapped up in the beauty and tragedy of it all. It saddens and confuses me that we have the capacity to feel such pain and such passion in a life that is so temporary. It's not that I think this life is fantastic, or so purely happy that I just want to keep living forever. I am quite often hurt or jealous or unhappy. But all those moments of pain just make everything else more beautiful. And there is definitely a self-pitying component of my personality that doesn't mind any sort of suffering, because it just gives me an "excuse" to wallow, or lets me feel like my life is more dramatic than it actually is. Pathetic.

But this is where things start to get complicated... When I was a child, I used to pray that I would die before I got too old. I didn't want a long life. I was scared of being a very old person. The thought of having most of my life behind me scares me. So while I don't want to age, I also don't want this life to end.

It seems that what I like about this life is the combination and contrast of the happy and the sad. I appreciate the complexity; and at times I crave the drama. But what confuses me is that while I find a strange satisfaction in wallowing in unfortunate events, there are certain things in life that terrify me because they seem to involve quite a bit of pain or sadness. Marriage, for example. Obviously I haven't experienced it myself, but despite all the "happily ever after" goop I have been spoon fed by fairy tales, novels, and romantic comedies from age 2, I have seen enough examples of relationships gone bad (fictional and non) to leave me extremely pessimistic. I find myself asking, is marriage ever worth it? Didn't all those now divorced couples start out with the same emotions of love and optimism I feel now? In fact, sometimes my cowardice is so crippling I convince myself it would be better to never experience marriage, and therefore bypass any unnecessary risk of pain. But that seems to go against everything I've just said about myself, doesn't it?

What confuses me even more is that one of the reasons I'm skeptical about heaven is because, from my understanding of the scriptures, there will be no marriage in heaven. While the prospect of a temporary earthly marriage occasionally induces feelings of strong anxiety, the thought of no such eternal relationship deeply saddens me. What? How does this even make sense? The rate at which I switch back and forth between a hopeless romantic and a crippling pessimist baffles me. One moment I'm embracing life and everything about it, the next I want to shut myself off from any risk of feeling emotion. How does that work? And which is the true me?

At a point in the movie, as became a bit overwhelmed with sadness at Benjamin Button's predicament of growing younger while all those he loves are aging and dying, I remember thinking, "But this shouldn't bother me, I'm a Christian. I know that there's more than this life." But I couldn't help crying. I couldn't help feeling so burdened by the shortness of this earthly life, and sad that the reward of heaven is not as comforting as it should be.

boxing day

"Take it all down, Christmas is over
But do not despair, but rather be glad
We had a good year, now let's have another
Remembering all the good times that we had
Oh no more lights glistening
No more carols to sing
But Christmas, it makes way for spring
Though hearts of man are bitter in weather
As cold as the snow that falls from above
But just for one day we all came together
We showed the whole world that we know how to love
Oh no more lights glistening
No more carols to sing
But Christmas, it makes way for spring
Oh no more lights glistening
No more carols to sing
Christmas, it makes way for spring
Oh remember that Christmas, it makes way for spring..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEb3_du_5sk

Just thought I'd share my favorite Boxing Day song with anyone who's a bit sad that Christmas has passed.

white Christmas

Sometimes I still find the midwest a bit of a novelty. I grew up on a busy street with a fenced in yard. I was never allowed in the front yard alone as a child, not even to get the mail. We rarely spoke to our neighbors, partly because I'm not sure they all spoke English, let alone invited them in or had them over for supper. I didn't realize that kids still delivered newspapers--I thought that was something that only happened in the towns where Leave It to Beaver or Lassie took place. White Christmases were something I had only ever seen in the movies. 

But then I moved here, to Eau Claire, Wisconsin. I've lived here for six years, but it still manages to catch me off guard and charm me. 

Today, for example... When I put on a hat and mitten to go shovel the snow off the front driveway, I felt like I had walked out into a Norman Rockwell painting, or the Charlie Brown Christmas special, or one of those little collectible Christmas villages middle aged women collect and arrange on their living room tables for the winter. The visiting grandkids of the elderly couple across the street were playing in the snow with their golden retriever puppy. They had skis attached to their feet and were clumsily making their way to the park across the street with their mother. As their dog, Tango, ran up to greet me, slipping and snuffling, they waved to me, calling out "How are you?" and "Beautiful day, isn't it? Merry Christmas!"

Even after six years of negative temperatures, vehicles rusted by salt, potholes, and humid summers riddled with gnats... Wisconsin still manages to surprise and charm me.

about growing up

This could be the very minute
I'm aware I'm alive
All these places feel like home

With a name I'd never chosen
I can make my first steps
As a child of 25

-Snow Patrol, 'Chocolate'

For the first time, I feel like I'm growing up. Well, perhaps that's not entirely true, I've felt little moments of maturing before... the day my mom took me bra shopping for the first time, getting my first credit card bill in the mail, getting my driver's license. But the distinction is, for the first time, these changes aren't necessarily against my will (just picture little Danielle being led through the bra section at JCPenny's, crying at the unavoidable tragedy of growing toward 'womanhood'). For once, I feel okay with maturing, with becoming an "adult." 

If a biography were to be written about me (hah!), this chapter in my life would be the 'coming of age' chapter. Sure, generally coming of age movies feature kids around the high school age, but I'm just a little slow in this department. Maybe it just took me longer than most to realize that Peter Pan isn't real, and that aging is inevitable. I was never one of those kids that couldn't wait to be a 'big girl' or 'adult' or whatever... at least not to my memory. I was the girl who cried when she got her first period and used to pray to die before she got too old. Pathetic? Cowardly? Quite. But now I'm slowing getting the picture. I'm aware more than ever of my own selfishness, my own immaturity. I'm realizing that resisting being an 'adult' just hurts those around me. It's just selfish. I need to grow up.

And while I'm still weak to resist the urge to hide when neighbors are over (find a book, hide in the bathroom, nobody's going to question your presence in there for awhile), I still watch Wishbone whenever it's on TV, I still sit upside down on the couch when I want, and I still think 'woman' is a scary and old sounding word, I think I'm finally growing up. Yay, I guess? It's not something I'm necessarily thrilled about, but it's something that I know needs to happen, and it's something I actually want to happen... most of the time. =)

sleepwalking

So I'm up cleaning my room, and my sister, who was asleep just minutes ago, shuffles into my doorway looking confused.

Blinking in the light, she says, "Hi."

"What's up?"

She seems confused. I ask her what she's doing up.

"The phone conversation said I needed to be up," she replies. I have to ask her to repeat this about 3 times before I can actually understand what she is muttering.

"The phone conversation? What phone conversation?"

"The one we just had," she replies. I haven't talked to her all day, and she hasn't been on the phone at all in the last couple hours. And then she walks back to her bed without another word, and is now asleep again.

This isn't unusual at all. In fact, it's one of the more tame encounters I've had with my sister's habitual sleepwalking affliction. Just thought I'd write it down before I forgot...

yeah, about that...

My extremely genuine desire to not be late for an entire week kicked off this morning with a big fat FAIL.

This morning I slept through three alarms (well, turned off both my cell phone alarms and my alarm clock alarm in my dreams) and woke up an hour behind schedule. This resulted in me bribing my sister to drive me to school so that I wouldn't be late for my 8 am (which I definitely couldn't miss cause it was all review for a test tomorrow). Wow, pure talent right there.

At least I was exactly on time today, and class technically hadn't started yet when I strolled in (I was the last one in though). The guy I share a table with laughed at me. But tomorrow, test day, I shall be early!

And shut up Zach, you hypocrite.

re-tardy

It's always been a family joke that if you want my dad to show up to anything on time, you need to tell him it starts at least an hour before it actually does. Once, when my dad was in college, he phoned his sister to ask what time the family was gathering (it was someone's birthday or something). She told him 1:30 pm. He arrived at 3:30 pm, and was frustrated to discover that no guests had actually arrived yet. Turns out the party wasn't supposed to start until 4 pm, but his sister knew him too well, and he was actually early for once.

Stuff like that about your parents is funny until you realize that you're turning into the same person. Today is the third time I've skipped my first hour class, simply because I was running late. I didn't sleep through class completely or forget to set an alarm or anything (actually, I did forget, come to think of it, but that wasn't the problem this morning), I just couldn't get my act together in time and left the house minutes later than I should have. Rather than walking in to class 8 minutes late, I skipped it all together. I hate being late. I hate walking late into a class so much, I'd generally rather just skip it. Yet, despite how frustrated I get with being late, I can't break the cycle. I just can't seem to get out of bed that 5 or 10 minutes early, which is really all I need to get to school on time. How pathetic is that?

I have been the last one into just about every class this semester, but it's got to stop. Here's my new challenge. Over the next week, I will not be late for my 8 am class (baby steps here). From tomorrow until next Friday, I will show up every day, and I will show up at least on time, preferably 5 minutes early. Hmm. We'll see how this goes...

love is...

Love is a many splendored thing... so they say.

What does that even mean? Seriously. I don't even know what to think of that phrase. I don't get it.

And that's what I thought about today... but made no progress. 

The end.

People are Dumb, Vol. I

I recently bought a hair straightener. Go me. I feel a little more grown up, like I've somehow graduated into a new level of adulthood, or at least womanhood (yikes). I was slightly bothered, however, by the extensive manual that accompanied my new straightener. I would not have expected it to require pages and pages of warnings and directions. But, people are dumb. Very dumb. Here are a few of my favorite warnings regarding the use of Walgreen's cheapest hair straightener:

• Do not use while bathing or in a shower.
• This appliance should not be used by, on, or near children or individuals with certain disabilities.
• Do not place in, or drop into water or other liquid.
• This straightening iron is hot when in use.
• Do not let eyes or bare skin touch heated surfaces.
• Never use while sleeping. (my personal favorite)

Oh world, you are just hopeless.

blog brain

For some reason, the recent lack of blogs leaking from my brain has got me down. When I can't write, as in, I just can't seem to produce words, it makes me incredibly sad. And when I simply don't write, I get itchy. I get restless. I get distracted. It's like there's too many ideas clogging up my brain, and I need to fish a few out to make everything a little clearer. Give the other thoughts still in there some room to grow.

It's not that I haven't been inspired by anything lately. Not at all. I've come to observe that I think in blogs, if that makes sense. Something I observe or learn strikes me as profound or ironic, and immediately that single thought expands and grows within my brain, gradually taking shape. Usually I will be obsessed with some theme or thought for days or weeks at a time, rehearsing it over and over in my head, until I have an entire sermon ready to be written. And these topics, these blogs, gather in my brain like burdens until I can finally publish them, either on this blog or in a more private format.

These past few weeks at least half a dozen such thoughts have been stagnating in my brain, waiting for me to finally put them to words. So like I said, it's not that I haven't had content, it's just that I simply haven't had the time or state of mind to sit down and write. How sad.

I want to write again, and more often, and I'm going to. I'm determined.

I feel much better already.

my identity?

This has been going through my mind a lot lately, so to finish processing it, I’ve got to write about it.

We have a desire to ‘find ourselves.’ We have this natural tendency to want to understand who we are and what makes us unique. Why? I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense, but we do it. Or at least I do it.

But the devil knows this too, and he’s tricky.

There are relatively few things that I think are constant about my personality. Unfortunately, most of the reoccurring traits are my faults or weaknesses. There are certain things I struggle with, certain traits I’m not proud of that I know I should make an effort to expel. But deep, deep down, if I was to be completely honest with myself, I don’t want to change those failures. Why not? Because I define myself by them—they are part of my identity… and one of the only consistent elements of my identity. Changing them would mean performing a major remodel to the fragile image of myself I’ve tried to construct over the past 20 years.

But that’s pretty messed up. I need to define myself by who I am in Christ, not by my failures.

so happy together (me + caffeine)

I was doing so well weaning myself off of my caffeine addiction, but I've officially crashed. After being inspired by Beth's blog over at Wake. Work. Rinse. Repeat., I decided that my crush on caffeine was unhealthy and it was high time I moved on to better sources of energy, like sleep. I was going strong for about two weeks, treating myself to a caffeinated beverage only once every few days and feeling great. However, last weekend at the 20s & 30s retreat near St. Louis, the combination of getting no sleep, needing to stay alert during hours of sitting and listening, and suddenly having access to a constant supply of free caffeine was all too tempting, and one drink every 3 days instantly become at least 3 drinks per day. Needless to say, ever since then the morning coffee has been flowing and I'm right back where I was a few weeks ago. Days like today, when I'm actually at home all day (joy!), it's especially tempting to keep refilling the mug from the thermos pot and add my favorite ingredients--a tablespoon of plain cocoa powder, vanilla soy milk, and vanilla caramel creamer. Mmmm. Hooray for fake, headache inducing, dehydrating energy in a cup. And just like that I'm back in my typical, ridiculous summer frame of mind: Who needs sleep? Not me! Sleep is such a waste of time! Look at all the cool things I could be doing other than sleeping! I'll never sleep again! Mwahaha! I'm invincible!

Oh, the crazy things caffeine and sleep deprivation do to me. Sorry for all those who actually have to be around me during these trying times. =)

baked beans

I had baked beans on toast and a fried egg for breakfast this morning, and I felt English. I miss England today. 

That's all for this morning. Perhaps I'll write something more insightful later.

Me vs. AC

Seriously. Summer is for warm weather. Summer is for short sleeves. Summer is for sandals. Do we all agree? Good.

Then TELL ME WHY the computer lab that I work in is currently 50 degrees! UGH.

I feel like an idiot every morning when I bike to work in the heat, carrying a sweatshirt. But I know that if I don't, after twenty minutes has passed I will be sitting at my desk shivering in the super chilled office.

It just seems so ridiculous to be colder during the summer than during the winter.

Okay, venting session over. =)

Mmm books

Awhile back I posted the following reading list for this year...

Reading List for 2008

To Reread
Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien
Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Watership Down by Richard Adams
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

To Finish
Fade by Robert Cormier
Atonement by Ian McEwan
Mere Christianity by CS Lewis

To Read
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
Animal Farm by George Orwell
The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby
Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer
Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk

Wow, I must have been CRAZY. How I'm supposed to finish all those books in a year is beyond me. I mean sure, if this was my gradeschool self when all I made time for was reading, I could do it. But really? Now? Anyways, the point of this is not to wallow in self-pity about my schedule, but to just sort of update that list now that the year is half way over.

I can actually check a few items off that list...

Books I have read in 2008 as of July 22:

• The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath - This book is fascinating. I recommend it to anyone who thinks they would enjoy living in the brain of a woman while she goes crazy.
• High Fidelity by Nick Hornby - Saw the movie, loved the movie, then found the book--loved it. This book, more than just about any other, makes me want to be a writer. It's one of those books you read and wish you had written it. 
• Atonement by Ian McEwan -  Saw the movie in the middle of reading this book. This author can spend 3 pages describing a single thought or sigh. Beautifully devastating.
• The L-Shaped Room by Lynne Reid Banks - bought this for 1 euro in a bookstore in Germany
• Twilight by Stephenie Meyer - yeah, yeah, I know... someone in England told me to read this and I bought into all the hype and gave it a chance, heh
  
• Outlaws of Sherwood by Robin McKinley - reread this... childhood favorite. I love Robin Hood.
  

Right now I'm slowly but surely hacking my way through As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner. Ugh. But it's a book I'll have to read anyways this coming fall for a class called Representations of the Dead, so I might as well get a head start. 

So, yeah, just felt like writing about books for some reason. If anybody's reading this at home and thinks to themself, 'Hey, I'm inspired, I should go read a book,' here is my suggestion:

THE ROAD by Cormac McCarthy

I believe that they're actually making this into a movie in November, so this is the perfect time to pick up this incredible read. I can't describe it. It's unlike anything else I've ever read. Just give it a chance.

Insomnia, by choice

It's almost 1 am and I was just trying to fall asleep. Well, actually to be honest, trying isn't exactly the right word. I work tomorrow morning, my eyes are killing, and I know I should be sleeping. But instead I get out my laptop, turn it on, and here I am, sitting on my sheets, watching the lightning storm outside my window, and blogging. 

I'm not sure why, but once summer rolls around, I hate sleeping. It just feels like such a waste of precious time. During the school year, it's all I can think about and all I want to do. But during vacation, I'll stay up for hours watching movies or Seinfeld and X-Files reruns or browsing the internet or cleaning my room or anything, simply because I don't want to sleep. And even when I get tired, I rarely get very sleepy, and eventually have to make myself head to bed because I know it's the wise choice. It's not like I can sleep in either. Even if I don't have something scheduled the next morning, once 9 or 9:30 rolls around I can't sleep any later with a clean conscience--I once again feel as though I'm wasting the day. I rarely am able to nap for the same reasons--I just feel as though I'm going to miss out on something. No matter how tired I've been, I think I've only been able to actually fall asleep in a nap twice in the past 6 months. 

So here I lay, staring at a blank dark ceiling, not wanting to sleep. It's just such a waste of my time. Oh well, maybe I'll have a good dream tonight. 

This is America

This blog is quite behind schedule, but I was going through all the unpublished drafts in my queue of blogs and found this one from a couple weeks ago. Just thought I'd share...

Since my arrival in the States, my feelings toward the USA have been somewhat conflicted. I guess the word I'm looking for is disenchanted. After 5 months of being around people who isolated and exaggerated every flaw and negative stereotype of Americans at every chance, it rubbed off on me. I came home to find that perhaps the criticism was more true than I remembered.

Celebrating the fourth of July was therefore not something I was looking forward to with any exceptional passion, but it ended up being the best thing for me. I spent the day in Colorado with my family and the Kolb family, picnicking on a grass field with thousands of other Americans, most dressed head to toe in red, white & blue, listening to orchestras play America the Beautiful and shoot off cannons during the 1812 Overture, and watching skydivers and fireworks fill the sky.

There was something about lying on the grass, watching fireworks synchronized to the song 'I'm Already There' (complete with recorded messages to loved ones overseas) and crying along with thousands of other people that just brought me peace with this country like nothing else has been able to. And I realized, say what you will, this is America too. Sure, we have flaws, plenty, but there is much to love about this country too.

Enjoy some photos I took that day... some snapshots of America.

Fourth of July picnic

Oh Uncle Sam

Couldn't resist this picture... and yes that is a cannon on the table.

Colorado.

home?

I'm sitting in my bed, in my boxers and t-shirt, in my lovely cluttered room, staring out at the oh so familiar view of the park and lamp post. But it still doesn't feel like home. I don't really know where my home is now. It's difficult to describe exactly how it feels to be here. I feel somehow incomplete, and sometimes I think I felt more at home in my dorm room in Winchester than I do right now in my own room of 6 years with my family sleeping in the rooms around me. But I don't think it's my room's fault. I feel like I've somehow betrayed it. I've gone away and changed and now that I return, we no longer fit together perfectly anymore. If I feel like my room is judging me for changing. If my room judges me, I can't imagine how I'll feel when I start seeing people and hanging out with friends again. And I'm scared.

a little poem for my Tuesday morning

I'm in the publishing mood.... I wrote this poem a few months ago about one of my best friends, Jesse, who died when we were little (3rd grade). Sort of written from the perspective of my third grade self.

Our third grade
Jesse, do you have hair now, or will you be bald forever?
Do you sit on God's lap and sing
I am Jesus Little Lamb
like I imagine?

Jesse, I remember swinging through the tanbark playground,
pretending we were knights.
I was Ivanhoe and you were Wamba the jester, sometimes King Richard,
the lion-hearted.
My pet was a mountain lion, and yours was an octopus, 
which you put on our heads to make us squeal.

Then you came to school on crutches, bundled in layers in a California
fall. Jesse, do you still need blankets in heaven or does God
keep it just the right temperature?

I always knew you were closer to heaven than us,
none of my other friends were bald.
Your blue eyes grew deeper and darker, like a turtle shrinking
into its shell, and your skin
became white and clear with purple spaghetti veins.
Jesse's going to be with Jesus soon,
Mama told me, over
and over, but I knew. 
We both knew, Jesse and I. 
I am Jesus Little Lamb 
he sang, bundled on the couch on his last 
good day. Little lamb. 

That night the phone rang and mama answered, but I already 
knew. Hallelujah.
But mama just sat at the table and cried over her papers, rubbing
her eyes underneath her glasses.
Mama, don't cry. You are the one
who told me not to cry when it happened. 
I thought this was what we wanted. I thought 
we wanted Jesse to be with Jesus.
Why are you crying?

Jesse, I tried to cry like everyone else. I hope you won't be mad at me 
when I tell you I couldn't find any
tears to give you. 
Even though we'd never play the 
make-Mitchell-smell-Jesse's-tuna-sandwich game 
again, I was happy
because you were happy, little lamb.

Sometimes I imagine your invisible octopus friend is sitting on my head, and I 
think that in heaven, you are playing our games with the angels. 

I guess I miss some things

Yes, yes, I know. My semester here is quickly coming to an end. But please, I'm sort of in denial here, so let's pretend I still have a lot of time here in Winchester.

But while I wait for The Office to download so I can watch the latest episode, I think I'll make a list of some of the stuff I do miss about good old Wisconsin. I'm not going to include my family, my friends, my church, MY CAT, etc, because that's automatic... sort of on a different level. Here are the little things I miss that make me not so sad to leave England:

1. Vault Zero. Mmmm, the refreshing taste with a lovely caffeine kick. I've been having to drink Diet Coke way too much lately.
2. Family Video. Oh how I miss hopping in my mini-van and cruising down the street to Family Video at 11:30 pm to rent some $1 movies for the night. It's been really tricky to watch movies here, since the only place we can really rent them is the limited selection at the campus library.
3. The fact that things are open late. There is something comforting (yet semi-disturbing) about the fact that at any time in Eau Claire, I could buy food. Or go shopping. Or whatever. Here, most stores close at about 6 and the only place in town that serves food after 11:30 pm is the kebab shop out by the train station (heh I was just there last night, delicious chips and cheese).
4. Taco Bell. Or Burrachos. Or Chipotle. Basically, I've had no Mexican food since I arrived. Sadness.
5. Sharing a bathroom with only one other person (Emily) instead of sharing one toilet with about 6.
6. Being able to wear sweatpants outside of my dorm room without feeling well awkward and stared at. I wonder what would happen if I went into town here in my pajamas.... scandalous.

this is your life

Yesterday morning I put on some music I hadn't listened to in awhile, but this time I listened to the words.

"This is your life, are you who you want to be?"*

Those words don't sound cliche at all anymore, and they struck me so much I felt like I could cry. I've always interpreted those words to mean something along the lines of, "Are you following all your dreams and turning into the cool person you dreamed you'd be as a kid?" but right now they mean something slightly different to me. They're saying, "Stop. Look at yourself. Are you okay with how you are right now? Look at the choices you make. Is this how you want to live? Are you proud of yourself? Is this how you want others to see you?"

You might not be doing anything wrong, but what are you doing right? What are you doing for God? Is this really who you want to be?
Probably not.

So what am I going to do about it?


*"This is Your Life" by Switchfoot on The Beautiful Meltdown

unknown

[Some thoughts I've wanted to get off my chest for a long time, and now I've finally found a way.]

When my friend Janie came back from seeing the Anne Frank house in Amsterdam, she told me that the exhibit basically ended with Anne's father saying that he thought he and Anne were close, but that after reading her diary after her death turns out she had emotions much more deep and complex than he realized. He concluded that no father really knows their daughter.

Two things hit me after hearing that. First of all, what a depressing thought. Perhaps my apprehensions about being a mother stem primarily from this fear of not being able to actually know my own children (or them not knowing me?). And secondly, and more importantly, perhaps this idea is what prevents me from writing. I'm not scared of the world reading about my most personal and complex thoughts--I'm scared to let my father read them. My father, mother, sister, friends, professors, pastors, blah blah blah--all those people who think they know who I am. I'm scared of writing and revealing exactly what I think and the extent of who I am. I hate the thought of someone reading a blog or anything I write and being ashamed or embarrassed at the revelation of my thoughts because they realize they don't know me.

It's not that I live my life outwardly as a different person. It's just that all the complexities and insecurities and conflicts within could never be simultaneously and accurately portrayed to those around us. We see others as having fairly limited personalities, and know others also expect certain characteristics from us. This simplification process is comforting. It allows us to feel like we 'really know' someone else. But actually, we all have characteristics we promote simply because we know that's the personality others expect from us, even if we admit we're technically capable of just about any personality or emotion. It's just too unsettling to look at everyone around you, including yourself, in that light.

But whenever I read books anymore I can't help wondering "What does their mother think when she reads this?" or, if I know the author has children, "What do their kids think?" If I read the writings of my mother, would I squirm awkwardly to delve so deeply into the complexity of her psyche, her pain, her hopes. Would I feel closer to her, or perhaps further, knowing that the mother I "knew" and loved was only the tip of the iceberg of her self, and that her range of thoughts and insecurities was just as wide as mine? Isn't it easier, more comforting, to instead allow ourselves to believe that we know our parents, we know our friends, than to be confronted with the disturbing reality that we really can't know anybody? Not truly?

And now, back to my point earlier, perhaps this is what discourages me from writing... and why most of my blogs don't get posted without major cuts and edits, if I post them at all. It's not that I have nothing to say, I have plenty. It's not that nobody would read it, I'm sure there are some friends or family or whoever who would. It's more that I don't want anyone to feel betrayed. If I wrote a novel someday, and poured my heart into it, would my father read it and think sadly, "I don't know my own daughter?"


[Okay, now back to writing my papers.]

A list from my childhood

What is it about being human that makes us nostalgic for our childhood? Or maybe it's just part of being alive, and dogs and oak trees wish they were puppies and innocent little acorns once again. Today Jenny and I visited the truly enchanting gardens of a old Prussian Palace (in Potsdam, outisde of Berlin). A steady drizzle fell on our umbrellas as we walked along, stepping around the deepest puddles and navigating through hedges and over bridges. Some weather is simply conducive to dwelling on the past, and in the midst of what felt like our own 'secret garden,' the topic inevitably fell on the much more magical days of our youth--anything from those gradeschool book order catalogues to Birthday parties. The topics discussed, combined with the general magnificence of our surroundings, made me homesick--not for my house is Wisconsin, but for comfort of being myself again, 10 or so years ago.

I dwell on my childhood quite often, but today the scenery triggered someone I had not thought of for sometime--one of the first book characters I fell in love with, 'Dickon' (at least I think that's how you spelled his name). Okay, so maybe 'fell in love with' is a strong term, but looking back, just like I had a crush on Dimitri from the cartoon Anastasia or Thomas from Pocahontas or whatever kids movie, I felt sure that if I were to meet Dickon, from Secret Garden, in real life, I would fall for him too.

So then in my mind, I tried to think of other fictional guys that had the same effect on my childhood self. After Dickon, I'll admit I'd have to add Nat Eaton from The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Rab Silsbee from Johnny Tremain, Robin from the Outlaws of Sherwood, and more I just can't remember. Oh those were the days. Those good old days when I would hide under the living room table or in the bathtub reading when we had company over cause I didn't want to be bothered talking to adults and I'd much rather finish my book.

It's funny that when you're little, all anyone does is try to make you think about the future. 'What will you be when you grow up?' Well, I guess they still ask that question (and I still don't know, but that's a whole blog in itself). And now that I'm older, all I do is talk about my childhood and mourn the absense of my imagination.

That reminds me. Today as Jenny and I toured the impressive estate, we also gushed about Pride and Prejudice and all those Jane Austen type stories with lords and ladies and carriages and large manors and hunting parties. I mentioned how much I wanted to go watch Pride and Prejudice and Jenny added that curling up on the couch in a big quilt and watching those movies sounded amazing just then. Awhile later, Jenny commented that it was funny that when we were at home watching P&P, we would talk about how amazing it would be to visit those places. And now that we were actually there, all we wanted was to be at home, watching the movies. Go figure.

Yay Friday Five

I watched the film High Fidelity for the first time last night (oh John Cusack), and am now extremely inspired to create a top five list (if you haven't seen it, the characters in this movie are making top five lists constantly, mostly about music).

So, in the spirit of High Fidelity, my (CURRENT) top five favorite albums...

Little explanation... I do not in any way claim to be very knowledgeable about music, so there are obviously many outstanding albums out there that I have never heard before, or have heard too recently to be sure about. The albums listed below are those CDs that I not only find outstanding, but more importantly for one reason or another cannot get sick of. I've listened to them countless times and still love them. These are NOT the top five best albums out there, simply the five I can't get enough of.

5. Mae's The Everglow
4. Relient K's MmHmm
3. Matchbox Twenty's More than You Think You Are
2. Death Cab for Cutie's Transatlanticism
1. Brand New's The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me

Honorable mentions: The Best of Simon & Garfunkel, Ok Go's Oh No (too soon), Brand New's Your Favourite Weapon and Deja Entendu, Avril Lavigne's Under My Skin (can't believe I'm admitting that), and Jimmy Eat World's Futures and many more

Wow, that was painful. So many beautiful things to leave off. =(

"Jude Law and a Semester Abroad"

I'm singing along to Brand New's "Your Favourite Weapon," which means one thing--I am angry. Angry and frustrated. I haven't really experienced much culture shock with regards to England and the people, but I have definitely had my share of confusion and frustration with this school. I guess I can't talk for the entire English school system, but let me tell you, this school is frustrating. None of the offices can answer your question the first time around, they usually send you to a different building, different office, until you've gone around the entire campus looking for an answer to a simple question, like "What is my address here?" (and by the way, I've gotten about three different answers to that question, all of which are valid, I think). Everybody, students and professors, think they're so busy, but really, this is nothing compared to the work we have to do at Eau Claire. Up until now, when the deadlines are actually approaching, I've felt like I've been on vacation, and my brain is seriously turning to goo in my head. I'm waiting for it to dribble out through my ears any day now. I can't even focus on cleaning my room, let alone writing one of the five papers that are due right after break.

Just today, my professor started explaining the first assessment (each class has two assignments in the semester which your entire grade is based upon) which is due in about five weeks and receiving a bunch of dumb questions, of course, most of them repeating things she had just explained. There was an entire option that she didn't even mention, however, so my friend Janie and I thought we'd just ask her after class about the option (listed on the syllabus, mind you) of making a video or a website instead of writing just an essay. When we went up to ask her, she acted flustered and annoyed, telling us that she couldn't teach us how to use that technology and that we'd be on our own (and might I add we didn't ask for her to teach us that). She then went on to tell us that we were making her late for her meeting, that "this is what office hours are for," that if we wanted to do this we would need to meet with her and have a lengthy conversation, that she was really busy that week, and that we should have talked to her about this earlier. She said a lot more I can't remember, but every thing she said basically sent the message that we were being very inconsiderate to her and her busy schedule to bring up this project, and that we were inconveniencing her by wanting to do this type of project, even though she listed it on her own syllabus as an option. She was so short with us and so demeaning that I still feel upset.

And it wasn't just this class, it's been other classes and professors too. I feel like the moment I open my mouth, I'm slapping a stereotype on my forehead. It's as if people respect me when I'm silent, but as soon as I start speaking and they realize by my accent that I'm American, I've lost a lot of credibility in their eyes. This was confirmed to me this afternoon in my America from the Perspective of Britain class that all Americans are required to take. Today we examined the "stupid American" stereotype to try to figure out why most British people automatically associate Americans with stupidity. Our professor (whom I respect a lot, please don't assume that I'm frustrated with everyone here) suggested that it's not simply about the fact that they think President Bush is an idiot, but that simply by looking at the television shows that we export, it's not very surprising--South Park, My Name is Earl, and others (can't remember them all, but there was more). Many people associate us with stupidity, perhaps consciously, perhaps unconsciously, but either way, it does make things difficult. It's interesting though--I don't necessarily blame people for seeing our country as a whole as stupid, based on the information they receive. But I forget that their opinion of the USA can directly affect their opinion of me. I guess I naively assumed that they'd judge me individually, but that's not always the case. I am a stupid American. A stupid, lazy, consumerist, arrogant American.

Wow, I covered a lot of territory with this blog. What started out as frustration with a teacher kind of evolved into a lament for the stupid stereotype of my nation. Yikes. I do feel better though. I do want to add, that despite all of this, I am still thoroughly enjoying my time here. Issues like this don't arise constantly, but moments like these do hit every once in awhile and cause me to stop and reflect on the bigger picture. Here are a couple videos music videos that deal with these issues. The first is from an American punk rock band that sort of satirizes the lack of awareness of most Americans, and the second is from a UK artist criticizing consumerism (especially USA). And finally, a very embarrassing collection of interviews that aired on an Australian news channel. This is the video they actually played at my study abroad orientation. Although this video could have been editing easily, the main point is that this is what other countries are watching and using to shape their opinion of America. So scary.

NOFX "Franco Un-American"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LzpTmcq7nBg

Adam Freeland (UK artist) "We Want Your Souls"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvwK-3cQ6gE

"Stupid Americans" - Australian news clip
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJuNgBkloFE

My new talent

So if I've learned one thing so far on this semester abroad about myself, it is that I am a master in the skill of acquiring crap. Seriously, I should get some sort of award. I've only been here for a month and already my dorm room, which I share with no one, is full. Full of crap. I don't even know how that happened. The first weekend I was here, it felt so empty and bare. I had a suitcase and a backpack, and everything unpacked hung neatly in my closet or sat peacefully on my bookshelf or folded just right in my drawer, allowing me to slide the empty suitcases under my bed. Perfect, right? Well now, my desk, my bookshelves, the top of my bookshelf, my entire bulletin board, the top of my dresser, and my floor are significantly covered with stuff. I don't even know where to begin in the sorting process. And I don't have any good method for organizing--no desk drawers, no handy boxes, no little compartments, so things mostly sit in stacks and random piles all over the place. I've been saving my bottles to clean out and cut the tops off to use for pencil containers and such, but it actually just makes everything look trashier instead of more organized. Seriously, what is my problem? How did this happen? How do things populate so quickly? Unbelievable. Anyways, room inspections are tomorrow so I've got to get back to the whole cleaning/tidying up process, but just thought I'd vent for a moment, about myself, and my talent for gathering crap. Cheers.

OSCARS!

I know it's been quite awhile since I posted here, but I've been a bit side-tracked with the whole England thing, so my apologies. But today being such a special day, I figured I had to make a few quick comments.

Yes, I am a sucker for the Oscars. I wasn't always, but ever since high school and I started to become obsessed with movies (actually, ever since Lord of the Rings started getting nominated for stuff), it's meant a lot more to me. Amanda, Jenny, and I would have our cute little Oscar slumber parties at my house and I would fill out those little sheets with all the nominees and check who I wanted to win each award. But unfortunately this year the Oscars will have to be watched on my laptop in my dorm room alone at 1 am. But, chin up (probably my new favorite phrase the English like to use), I can still babble about the Oscars on my blog and make a couple silly top five lists for fun. So, in reflection of a great year of movies, here are, in my opinion, some of the best and worst of the year:

First of all, although I was able to see 35 of the movies released in 2007, there were still a good 26 I missed out on (I'm going with the official list of eligible movies the Academy has on their site). Here are the top movies I regret not being able to see this year (not in order):

Rocket Science
Into the Wild
Grace is Gone
Control
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
The Namesake
Away from Her
There Will Be Blood
The Wind that Shakes the Barley
Zodiac

Favorite Movies of 2007 (none of these lists are in order, really)
Juno
Atonement
300
Rescue Dawn
Becoming Jane

Worst Movies of 2007
Because I Said So
Catch and Release
Evening
Gracie
In the Land of Women

My Personal Oscars (of the movies I've seen):
Best Picture: Can't decide... the best/most well made movie of 2007 was No Country for Old Men, but my personal favorites were Juno and Atonement
Best Actor: Christian Bale in Rescue Dawn
Best Actress: Ellen Page in Juno
Best Director: Joe Wright for Atonement (not even nominated--ridiculous!)
Best Score: Atonement by Dario Marianelli
Best Original Screenplay: Diablo Cody for Juno

Well, anyways, it's almost midnight here in England, so I'm going to take a quick nap before the show starts. Best wishes to all of the artists nominated tonight. =)

last minute cramming

Update: I leave tomorrow. TOMORROW. Oh my.

In light of my quickly approaching departure from American culture, I've been doing a little cramming lately. Tonight we had a full Thanksgiving spread for supper, I had a burrito for lunch, and I'm up late watching X-Files ("Paper Hearts" episode). I love this show. A zillion thanks to Phil for introducing me to Mulder and Scully.

And on another note, this may be the last time I type from American soil for awhile. I'll pick up again sometime next week, and will definitely be typing in a British accent. Until then, cheers.

Also, here's the address for my travel blog, incase anyone missed it:
http://acrossthepond-dr.blogspot.com/

on a rainy monday

It's finally starting to sink in that I'm leaving for England this Friday... and that I'm not coming back until June. Crazy. It's been planned for so long that I've accepted it without really giving it too much thought. But now that suddenly I have just a few days left sleeping in my bed, in this house, in this country, it's all sinking it. Yikes!
I will miss my sister's graduation, my friend's wedding, an entire rugby season, and so many other things. I think that is what's getting to me and making me feel a little panicked--I'm cool with leaving so soon, I just keep forgetting how long I'll actually be there. I'm not too worried about getting homesick though... but I will miss my cat.

Tonight I went out to eat with my ILHS classmates as a sort of goodbye thing. My lovely friends Dani and Amanda bought me an umbrella (perfect for England!), a photo album, and a box of "international" chocolates. Oh, and today was also significant because I finally bought my backpack for Europe--one of those big backpacking backpacks that makes me want to go climb a mountain or something outdoorsy. I can't wait to start packing.

Side note... today it rained. I love the rain, especially after so much snow. Rain makes the whole world so much more enchanting, especially the misty rain that's settling in on Eau Claire right now. Oh beautiful. Thanks God.

Friday 5: Movie characters... who would I be?

So, in order to satisfy my compulsive desire for making lists, I've decided to create a regular outlet--the Friday Five. Oh so clever. So basically, a new top five list every week. Yes, this is quite indulgent, but I'm pretty excited about this. And, to start things off, this week shall be...

If I could be any movie character, who would I be?

Now, this was much more difficult than I anticipated... mostly because every time I think of a ridiculously cool character (Wolverine, Jason Bourne, Bruce Wayne, any of the Spartans from 300, etc...) I realize that they are not actually very happy people. Or they die. Who would actually want to be Batman? So depressing. So, anyways, here you go.

5. Juno (Juno) - She's sarcastic, witty and clever, plays guitar and dates Paulie Bleeker. And she has a hamburger phone.
4. Marty McFly (Back to the Future) - He travels through time, rocks out to Johnny B Goode on stage, and saves the day.
3. Elizabeth Bennet (Pride and Prejudice) - She's clever, ahead of her time, makes fun of people, and marries Mr. Darcy.
2. *TIE* Eowyn (Lord of the Rings) or Mulan (Mulan) - This is a tie since both of these are really similar. They both disguise themselves as men, go to war, bring down the biggest bad guy (the Witch King and the chief Hun) and go home to marry the love of their life and be awesome for the rest of their lives. Just fantastic.
1. Robin Hood (all versions of Robin Hood movies) - Need I explain? He's an outlaw, a leader, the best archer, a savior, and he constantly outsmarts his enemy and gets to camp out in the woods with his best friends and the love of his life. And, when he dies, he becomes a legend. Pretty sweet.

Honorable mentions: Cosmo Brown (Singing in the Rain), Dana Scully (X-Files), Princess Leia (Star Wars), Sam Spade (The Maltese Falcon), Tyler Durden (Fight Club), Maximus (Gladiator)

So, if anyone reads this and feels inspired, comment with your list. =)

reading list for 2008

I'm feeling very inspired at 4 am, so here's an ambitious reading list for 2008 (ambitious considering I sadly haven't read all that much since high school)... Suggestions welcome!

Reading List for 2008

To Reread
Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien
Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Watership Down by Richard Adams
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

To Finish
Fade by Robert Cormier
Atonement by Ian McEwan
Mere Christianity by CS Lewis

To Read
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
Animal Farm by George Orwell
The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby
Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer
Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk

just gushing

I finally got the chance to see my two most anticipated movies of 2007, Juno and Atonement. And, amazingly, they both pretty much stood up to my expectations. I had two incredibly different experiences with them, though...

Juno, after a rough start, completely won my heart and by the end I just wanted to give the entire movie a hug. I saw it with three girlfriends and we left the packed theatre with whimsical grins and immediately began gushing about the movie. We quoted the moments that made us laugh or made us cry (sometimes both) as we wandered through the slushy parking lot, throwing jelly beans at each others' mouths.

Friend 1: "Oh, I can't wait to be pregnant. Obviously not now, but someday."

Friend 2: "I know, I am so excited about being pregnant someday.

Friend 3: "That movie made me want to be a mom."

Me (unspoken thoughts): "That movie made me want to make a movie. The pregnant thing didn't really cross my mind."

Either way, Juno was just so much fun. It was quirky and clever and emotional all at once. None of the characters fit a stereotype (except perhaps Rainn Wilson in the first 5 minutes) and the movie kept constantly surprising me. Just overall lovely. Go see it!

And then, Atonement. Atonement finally came to Eau Claire yesterday. I did not know what to expect, other than the trailer and the short portion of the beginning of the book (brilliant so far) that I have read. I went at 1:30, and because most everyone was busy or at work, I decided to go alone. I'd never gone to a movie alone before, but I loved it. And it was one of the best movie going experiences I'd ever had. The threatre was relatively empty (perhaps a scattered dozen others) and so the audience was respectfully silent. The movie progressed slowly, taking its time. At times it felt like it was building toward a beautiful epic moment, a climax of some sort, but then it would change unexpectedly and surprise me until I really had no idea how it would end. And let me tell you... I was decently moved by this movie throughout, but it wasn't until the last ten minutes that the emotional core of the movie is exposed and then I just cried. This movie is devastating yet beautiful. Just beautiful. Powerful.

The credits rolled on and the theatre emptied, leaving me alone to digest everything with the gorgeous soundtrack accompanying. Such a perfect moment... I was able to watch the entire credits with no one to distract me or bug me to leave. When they were done, I simply wandered out, walked silently to my car, turned the music off in my car and drove silently away. Thoughtful silence. I went home and downloaded the soundtrack on itunes right away (amazing), then just sat back and listened, still going through the movie in my mind.

And that is the story of two of my favorite movies of the year. Two totally different experiences, but both memorable in their own way. I love movies (just thought I'd throw that in case anybody missed that).

And the moral of the story is, go see Juno and Atonement. Also, as much as possible, go into Atonement knowing NOTHING (or as close to nothing as possible).

mossy thicket

I love the smell of fresh paint. Call me crazy, but I just love freshly painted rooms. Glorious smell. So anyways, this reflection is not completely random--I am currently repainting my room. I found a shade of green (with the beautiful name of "mossy thicket") and have painted 1 and 1/4 of my walls with it.Also, I should explain the murals (you can only see one of them there)... After I graduated 8th grade my family moved from California to Wisconsin. About a week before my first week of high school, I had the impulse to paint on my walls. So I got a ride down to Sherwin Williams, picked out two shades of gray and one shade of green, and went to town. The paintings you see are (prepare yourself for the true extent of my nerdy love for Lord of the Rings) the Argonath from FOTR (you can see them in the movies... those giant statues on either side of the river toward the end of the movie). Well, I decided to touch them up a bit with deeper values and all that good stuff. It's been fun. But my room is such a mess right now that I've been sleeping on the couch for the past week (my bed is covered in layers of stuff). Maybe I'll do a before and after picture, While You Were Out style, when I'm all done. =)

oh, snow... and 2008

This winter, I grew quite fond of snow. I'm not sure what brought about this change, but I'm glad. Life is better when you're not mad at the weather every day. It's not that I had a problem with snow itself--just what it meant. Snow means COLD weather; it means I'm in Wisconsin, and not California for winter; it means no rain for months; it means a weary and crusty white substance that overstays its welcome. This winter, however, is possibly the first time I haven't missed rain. I've been truly excited about the entire winter season. And I love this new excitement.

Emily (pictures above and below) and I went out the other morning to snap some potential senior pictures (her senior pictures, NOT mine) in a beautiful snow fall. I am so thrilled about how they turned out.

It was snowing for perhaps the fourth day in a row and was just absolutely enchanting outside. I really do love it when it's snowing.

And now for my New Year's resolutions. I usually forget about these within a week and have fun looking back on them and laughing at myself at the next new year ("I said I would do what?"). But either way, they're too fun to resist. So, here are my goals for 2008 for anyone to see (and to hold me accountable too):

1. Run a marathon. I'm trying to get into the NY marathon this fall with Jenny and Sara (Mountain View Sara). I'm terrified, but super pumped.

2. READ MORE. When I'm reading, I feel like the truest version of myself (if that makes sense). I need to set aside more time for just reading and writing and all those beautiful things.

3. Attack my scrapbooking box. For the past 8 years or so, I have collected photos, cute little scrapbooking things, ticket stubs, napkins, stickers, albums, postcards, blah blah blah, and they have accumulated into what is now a closet drawer, a giant under-the-bed storage thing, and another large closet storage container. And how many pages have I ever actually created? 2!Pathetic! I don't expect to be a master scrapbooker (in fact, I hope to never become a super scrapbooky person... it's just not me) but I need to at least sort through all that STUFF this year.

4. Cut back on my "addictions" ... caffeine, gum, and chocolate. I used to never drink soda (diet or regular) or coffee. Never. Not until the very end of high school when I discovered my secret soda passion--Vault Zero. Ugh! Now I am a caffeine addict who uses black tea and diet soda (and the occasional morning Vanilla Caramel creamer with coffee) to cure my headaches and chews 30-50 pieces of gum a week (and yes, I have counted).

[Hmm... running out of ideas, but 4 is not enough... I need 6... hmmm....ooh! I know!]

5. Wear my retainer! Sorry if this borders on gross, but I seriously need to start wearing my retainer again. I had any combination of braces/expander/head gear/temporary retainers/spacers/rubber bands for about 6 years of my life, and I do not want to go through that again. Sadly, once high school hit I got super lazy and only wear it about 3 times a year (when I feel really guilty all of a sudden and remember). So yeah, no excuses anymore!

6. And, this one should be automatic, but I need to spend more time with God. More prayer, more reading the Bible, more standing up for Him. And God, I really need your help with this (and with all of these actually).

Well, that's all for now. I know there's a million zillion things I need help with, but this is a good start. And, let me just add, I am SO excited for this year. 2008 (yay, an even numbered year!) will be SWEET: Winchester and Europe, Olympics, Shannon and Aaron's wedding, and all the other amazing things I don't know about yet that God's planning. Can't wait!