Amazing Grace

It's funny that I can spend my whole day at the computer, via my job, and then want to come home and stare at it again while I write. 

It's like when I would get home from a 4 hour long art class and want to get out my sketch pad as soon as I returned. 

Tonight, I have the urge to understand grace. 

To soak in it. 

To spill it out. 

To pick it up again. 

To (honestly) question it. 

To at least try and understand it. 

To hold it in my hand for a split second and investigate...and study it.

Tonight I got dinner with a good friend. After I left I was prompted to think, 'Why does she care about me?'  

As I walked back to my car, for some reason I kept asking myself why? What motivates us to care? Coffee dates here, e-mails there, but why?

It's really an incredible thing when you take a second and count the amount of people that have asked you how your day was. Or the amount of times a friend remembered a seemingly meaningless detail in a story you told a month ago. 

I'm convinced these things come into play because of Grace...most importantly matter because of Grace.

I like to think about heaven. 

A lot. 

And that ultimately, Heaven will exist in a retrospect kind of way. It will undo the bad that has happened in life on earth...reaching back to our heartache on Earth and actively playing out and showing us how it was meant to be. I'm not asking for a theological debate here, but if I were God, who made something extremely beautiful like the Earth and everything within it, and some hairy bags of water (that's us) pretty much came a long and ruined it...the  first thing I would want to do when they returned home would be to walk with them and show them how beautiful everything was meant to be. Not just the landscape without pollution, or the animals without cages...but everything. 

That God would show us how every relationship that went wrong on Earth was meant to play out and ultimately bring us closer to Him. Or every idea that was grand and excellent on Earth that encompassed so much good but that we couldn't carry out...eventually carried out in Heaven...dislplaying exactly why we thought it was good in the first place. 

For me, that idea of Heaven means a lot. 

I'm only 22 years old and have seen a lot of heartache the world holds. 

Divorce. 

Deceitful men. 

Deceitful women. 

Women selling their bodies. 

High school kids literally dying to find something worth living for. 

While reaching into our Earthly life, I believe Heaven will somewhat resemble a perfect functioning organism. It won't just lay there, it will work. It will function. It will move. It will grow and it will be efficient...incredibly efficient....everything done and carried out will be worth it. 

Within Heaven, we will still have to work through things, figure things out, but within this process, I believe that God's perfection and pure righteousness is sowed, allowing us to reap with Him all of the glory at the end of our toil. 

THIS, I believe is grace. 

Where you have done nothing yet reap everything...and what you reap is incredibly good. 

I don't like the idea of seeing Grace as it being something offered and then because of that vision, displaying it onward toward others....I like that idea that whatever you offer towards others...no matter what it was brought on by.... somehow it turns out worthy. 

Like a question to a friend about their day...

You didn't ask because of Grace, it was made meaningful because of Grace. 

Actively working through you was this idea that that question 'How was your day?' was always meant to carry real, honest, genuineness, and when what was intended is carried out....THAT is when you see and experience Grace. 

Once you begin to understand that Grace is not what motivates you, but instead is what makes what you do worth it...

You begin to ask more and more of those questions....

"How was your day?" 

"How are you?" 

When you are not merely motivated to just ask, you begin to look forward to the outcome...you desire the same significance those questions, or things, or relationships were created for in the first place. 

Grace at least for me, is not what gets me out of bed in the morning....instead, its what helps me go to sleep at night...knowing that in some retrospective, functioning, incredible, mystifying way, what I did was worthy that day....when it really shouldn't have been. 

Incredible this thing, Grace. 

Absolutely mystifying. 

....along with His peace, God's Grace does transcend ALL understanding...

Columbia's Catherine

The other day, I asked God to reveal more of his beauty to me. Whether it be witnessing a kind gesture from a stranger, or an amazing sunrise on the way to work

....little by little He has been faithful in this request.

She doesn't necessarily fit into a "box"....so I won't even try to fully describe her in words that would attempt to do so, but what I can say about my friend Catherine, is that she is a faithful, committed and a steadfast friend.... not only to me but to the rest of Columbia.

Before Meredith and I headed off to work last Friday, we decided to say our fair-wells to Catherine at Lakota (a coffee shop) where Catherine has worked for the last 4 years, because the next day she and her sister were moving to D.C. Little did Meredith and I know, that the rest of Columbia would be there that morning too, bright and early, ready to reminisce, say good-byes, and wish well their favorite barista in all of Columbia.

Sitting at the bar, Mere and I just watched her do what she has for the past couple of years. Meticulously scrape off extra foam from a latte or wipe down a counter, nothing TOO mind blowing. However, it was during this time that the most beautiful conversations began to flow from our side of the bar and into her "office."

"Catherine, do you remember the time we first met and you challenged my knowledge of music...like if I knew who Dean Martin or Bing Crosby were?" an older man inquired holding a newspaper up to his face.

He asked her without even needing to look at her... knowing she would faithfully respond... in some way.

She smiled and kept working...never offering him a defined answer.

He was still pleased with her choice of response.

More and more memories of customers' "first time meeting Catherine" spilled out over that counter, as Mere and I just sat there. In the beauty. In the memories. We were somewhat speechless.

What a beautiful thing it is when you see that it is someone's faithfulness that dictates the nature of a friendship....that dictates the feeling in the atmosphere. Not necessarily the kindness, or the humor, or the wisdom.... not saying Catherine does NOT embody these things....(however, she can be sassy sometimes)...but that it is the faithfulness to a place, or to a people, or to a job, that will be missed the most.

I am reminded of God's beauty and faithfulness in my own life from telling this story. His showing up when asked. His responding in interesting ways; ways that sometimes are not clear...but are nonetheless there. His serving me time and time again. His acknowledgement of my presence and meeting me where I was at.

I have no doubt that her knowledge of random musicians as well as film directors will be missed by some in Columbia.

As well as her ability to maintain some caffeine addictions.

But it will be her faithfulness, to events, to people, to ideas, to customers....that I will miss the most.

Psalm 89:2,8 "I will declare that your love stands firm forever, that you established your faithfulness in heaven itself. Oh Lord, God Almighty, who is like you? You are mighty, O Lord, and your faithfulness surrounds you."

We All Sprint for Ice Cream.

Growing up, do you remember those summers that were filled with that creepy lullabye music the ice cream truck would blare? Or did you ever experience that sheer panic while frantically searching the couch cushions for enough money?

I do. Like it was yesterday.

My fastest mile time growing up was around 10 minutes (#porkinforkin) but I'm sure that if someone told me ice cream was waiting at the end...it would have been at LEAST 9 1/2.

Ice cream was what made summer....summer.

Luckily, I work for a company that regonizes this fact, and that is why EVERY Friday afternoon in the summertime, we are offered FREE ice cream. While this suggests we are still young at heart around here, we sure don't act like it when the announcement to "come and get it" is made over the intercom. My co-workers usually finish writing their E-mails, pick up their desk a bit, and even initiate further discussions about how this or that meeting went while they mosey down the hall and up the stairs towards the afternoon's treat.

That's right, I said mosey.

But not I. Ohhhhh nooooo. Not I.

Let me take you back to the first Friday of this summer, before I knew this was the seasonal tradition where I worked.

The only reason the receptionist Georgia (the sweetest lady alive) usually makes intercom announcements for the entire company is when there is a call on someones line, or a visitor upstairs..... and that's about it.

However, this Friday she interrupted my mundane data entry and said there were delicious chocolate milkshakes waiting for everyone in the conference room upstairs.

"WHAT?!" I said aloud.

"Is this a dream?" I thought to myself.

The final, sobering thought to run through my mind was was..... "I'm down stairs and my free delicious treat is a long way away"

Before Sweet Georgia could even begin to finish her sentence about the ice cream, I pushed my rollie chair so hard beneath me it slammed into the wall behind me (the same wall I share with the VP of Sports Operations of course) and began making my mad dash up the stairs. As I sprinted past the "higher-ups" offices....all of which have glass walls by the way....one by one I heard each of them busting into laughter.


Not at ALL concernced with their perception of me, I was the first to reach the conference room and geographically the furthest away.

Successs.

After picking up my chocolate milkshake, out of breath I tried to casually make my way back to my desk.


However, it wasn't that easy.


As I mosied past each office that I had earlier sprinted past, these were the comments that started seeping out behind those glass walls...

"Who knew she could run so fast?"


"Wasn't she wearing heals?"


"Forkin, that was incredible."


Glad that my sanity was NOT one of the things audibly being called into question, I sat back at my desk, laughed at myself, and went back to work


.....not regretting for a single second letting my co-workers know exaclty how I felt about dairy products.

Why? Because for the rest of the day, I left 3 grown men laughing histarically.

I LOVE ice cream. And like when I was a child, I ran to get it.

Forgetting about professionalism, I simply did what God created me to do....

to sprint after these things that give me joy.


and because of that decision, I unintentionally left others in the same type of wake God leaves us in all the time...... one that is filled with random, illogical laughter and.....joy.


Sprint after the things that give you joy and let those around you see and experience you doing so.....it will reveal the Lord to others in ways you never thought.


Please take my unprofessional word for it.


Isaiah 55:12.

No frills, just church.

"Where two or more gather...He is there with us."

Simple. Delightful.

Where two or more gather...He is there.

No frills. No requirements. He's there.

This past weekend for Easter, I visisted family in Quincy, IL. A small small town where everyone knows everyone...and for the most part, everyone enjoys everyone.

My uncle is a firefighter, and works on most holidays. So there are church services for Christmas and Easter held at the local firestation so these men and their families can attend. As was the case for this Sunday's Easter Mass.

I've seen many beautiful churches in my life.

Cathedrals downtown with high rising ceilings and stained glass.

Churches with mountains in the background.

Churches with large stages and flat screens.

I think I prefer the firestation.

As we entered we passed all the firetrucks lined up outside (in order to make room for us in the interior) and gathered with about 50 other people in a somewhat dark, hollowed out, garage.

I can't even describe to you how beautiful the scene was.

We sat in fold-up chairs and listened as the engaging priest walked up and down the only isle asking questions to what looked like his friends and brothers...rather than a congregation.

Every once and a while the intercom to the station would blare...an unfortunate event played out... and the firemen rushed out the door and attended to other's neeeds.

A little girl hit her head.

An unconcious male found near the street.

The priest was interrupted numerous times with these announcements...and we would stop and pray for those people.

Then the lesson would continue.

It was messy.

The transitions between readings and songs were not flawless.

The woman playing the piano's voice was screetchy.

Children in the back had no child-care to attend, so noises would echo off the wall and interrupt the hymns.

Real messy.

At one point, my mother actually hit her head on funnel system of some sort that was hanging down from the ceiling above her chair.

Real people.

For once I felt like the church I was at was an accurate representation of the people that gathered within it.

Messy but beautiful.

as simple as "Where two or more are gathered...I am there"


You know what else was really beautiful?

I relied on the Scripture, the Holy Spirit, the Body of Christ alone to change my heart.

Not the music.

Not the asthetic of the building.

Not the sereness.

Just the simple things.

The needed things.

That is all.


"If we build to please ourselves, we are building on the sand; If we build for the love of God, we are building on the Rock."- Oswald Chambers

Beatiful, Scandalous, Nightmares.

It's been a long time.

A really long time.

We'll skip the silly intro about the reasons for my absence...I just like sharing ideas. Does there need to be a regularity to my sharing?

No.

Not in my mind.


Something I have been struggling with lately has been how I respond to sin in my life, and is feeling guilty AFTER I have repented, God-given or an extension of the Devil's work?

In my Bible study we are currently discussing Hebrews, and last night we revisted a passage I had been to many times about how Jesus suffered through EVERY temptation so that He could CONQUER every type of sin that followed.

After rememebering that Jesus had gone through every temptation, I discovered that he went through, and conquered, the temptation to feel worldly guilt as well

...exactly what I had been struggling with.

There is a BIG difference between Godly-guilt, and Worldy-guilt.

"God's guilt" (often "conviction") comes before the repentence, before one recognizes their flesh had got the best of them.

The guilt that remains AFTER I say sorry, is given to me by the world...by the Devil...and tells me:

"I should have known better" "My reputation is marred" "People will look at me badly now"....

and other bullshit like that.

Last night when I realized that God doesnt call for that guilt I carry around after I repent...I was elated.

I felt a freedom I haven't in a while.

After a long night of great discussion (both at Bible Study and Addison's that followed), I laid in my bed exhausted

....and extremely happy.

I looked up to my celing and told my God outloud, "I love you...and you are the best....THE BEST...I don't want another God...I know you are THE one..."

I then outstretched my arm...let God hold it for a second. And with a smile I drifted asleep.

I felt like the luckiest girl in the world at that moment.
My sin was conquered
....my guilt taken away.
I was reminded for the night the beauty of it all...and peace was on its way.

Needless to say the devil was pissed.

Ulterly fuming.

The hand of guilt that he extended to me so long was ripped away by my Savior....and he hated that.....

So later that night, in my dreams he let me know exactly how he felt about me...and once again tried throwing some guilt my direction to see if I wanted another taste.

Last night I had a nightmare where I watched myself fall into every type of temptation.

Lust
Lying
Fear
Anxiety
Anger
Hate
....even murder.

I watched myself fight with friends.
I watched myself murder because of jealousy.
I watched myself lie.
I watched myself cheat.
I watched myself lust.

I woke up several times during the dream and begged God to let me go back to sleep and NOT keep dreaming of these things..

but that didn't happen.

Every time I returned to sleep, I returned to a new sin I was taking part in.

When I woke up for the final time, well before my alarm at 6:45,...I was SHOCKED.

Shocked at the mere fact that the Devil would even attempt to make me feel guilt again.

....even if it was my actions from a dream that ushered in the guilt.

After laying in my bed, realizing how utterly ridiculous the attempt from the devil was, I realized God was with me in that moment as well (like he always is)

While the Devil was trying to get me to turn back to a pattern of guilt after repentance through this dream, God was showing me everything I had died to when Jesus died.

God was walking me through what my life would be without Jesus.

God was making Hebrews 2:18 "Because He himself suffered through every temptation, he is able to help those who are being tempted"...... come to life.

As I lay in my bed, shocked at whirling thoughts and emotions I had...God was asking me...

"Do you beleive you were capable of this?"
"Do you understand Jesus walked through this?"
"Do you beleive all of this died in you when My Son died?"

I cried.


.....all the way to work

...and am crying in the tiny cubicle I sit in as I write this now.

How beautiful that God revealed the darkest parts of my soul in a dream...only to remind me that guilt from any of these is not from Him

...that the death that all these bring no longer seeks MY name.

...the hounds of death can no longer track my scent.

....the cancer of death no longer invades my cells.


A temptation from the devil in a dream, that slowly turned into a reminder from God.


A

Beautiful

Nightmare

Owl Eyes

So I'll skip the whole "I'm back routine."

I believe I need more blog in my life. 

I will just get straight into a ridiculous story told in complete stream of consciousness. 

Enjoy. 

I'm taking a Themes in Literature class. I signed up not knowing that we would have to read 9 novels throughout the semester, and when I found out I was somewhat excited...and then I remembered I love to read until someone tells me I HAVE to. Once it becomes an assignment the procrastination sets in, the imagination falls away, the enjoyment fades. However, I can say that I have successfully read 4 of the required novels....

.......out of the 6 we are supposed to have read by now ; ) 

Anywho...

My teacher is as wide as he is tall, or is as tall as he his wide...however that saying goes, and wears large, circular spectacles that magnify his eyes to about 3x their size. I've also noticed how long-winded he is. I swear he can speak for 10 minutes without inhaling, as well as without me knowing what on earth he is talking about. He laughs at his own jokes longer than anyone should, and looks terribly embarrassed every time he realizes it. 

During his lectures, I'll be honest, I facebook, G-chat, E-mail, shop, text, read, draw. This is one of my sketches: 

Moral of the story: I do anything but listen to this poor old man. 

The other day, running late to my psych class, I started booking it. Right before I reached the building I saw him walking out. I don't know why I looked up to acknowledge him (there are about 25 kids in the class and I sit in the back with my nose in my Mac the whole hour)...I knew he wouldn't recognize me. 

But before I could lift my head from the wet ground to potentially meet his gaze, I heard a "why hello..."

Shocked, my head snapped up and there starring at me were two large, beautiful blue eyes..seasoned with wrinkles and gentleness. His eyelashes batted, I could probably count how many there were due to the magnification of his glasses. He was delighted. 

I believe he knows I don't listen to him...he has to. The whole class has to. 

And instead of greeting me with an authoritative err, or a condescending gaze he met me with a joy. 

a contentment. 

Just happy to see a familiar face on a rainy day I guess. 

Or maybe glad that in his old age he recognized a student, one whose face he rarely saw due to the amount of my class attendance. 

 

I don't know exactly how to describe it, but I knew that one look he gave me, was one I never gave to him...ever. I was never joyful to see his fragile body somewhat limp to the desk. I was never excited to acknowledge his presence in the room. 

We are called to repent not because of worldly guilt, or fear of God, but because of the kindness God grants us. (Romans 2:4) 

Thanks owl eyes for the kind greeting. 

I'll try to make it to class and pay attention from now on. : )  

what the....??

I have a crush on everyone. 

you might be next. 

watch out. 

ps. I'm not going to med school anymore...I'm going to own a dance studio with my best friend. 

yay for switching majors every week. 

I'm sort of kidding...just kidding I'm really kidding. 

just kidding...

Cream? Sugar? Sin?

No use crying over spilled coffee right?...yah thats what I thought too until my geography class yesterday. 

Now I know what you're thinking and no, I did not spill my coffee in front of my entire class and then start crying...(although I could probably create a whole blog about my coffee mishaps)...but ANYWAYS...

My geography teacher is great. He's a little kid who gets dressed up in "big kid" clothes everyday and talks about prevailing wind patterns and GPS systems like they're the cool new Transformers being sold at Toys R Us. He loves his job, and if there's one thing that makes waking up at the butt crack of dawn worth it, its to see someone do what they love...ANYWAYS...

The other day, before class had officially began, my teacher was telling a story. His flailing arm motions, whenever he tells a story, resemble the swirling atmosphere he always talks about and normally keep me pretty entertained...but something else had caught my eye that day...

his Starbucks cup at the edge of his desk was hanging on for dear life.

His computer cord was plugged into the wall right next to his morning brew and the cord had made a perfect noose around the bottom of the little cup. As the story went on, his arms kept flailing, tightening the loop and slowly pulling the poor cup to its death. 

My gaze would shift from him to the cup, him to the cup, him to the cup. 

I looked around to see if anyone else could see this catastrophic scene about to take place, but nope...I was all alone...it was up to me to yell out...to warn...to stop the cup from....

too late. 

The room fills with the aroma of Pikes Place...and the large puddle that lay on the floor, clearly reflects my professors' red cheeks. 

 guilt. 

I had coffee too that morning... I thought I said two splenda and no Sin...I was mistaken. 

I may have a pretty good idea as to what some of you may be thinking. "Alex, its not a big deal, you weren't sinning by not speaking up." "It's a cup of coffee...not someone about to be hit by a car." 

Yeah yeah yeah, that's not my point. 

My point is that in day to day life their are these small events that play out and occur only because of our sinful nature. I'm not talking about a sin here, I'm talking about Sin in general. Yes, there are these moments in my life where I sin, break a commandment, do something that rightfully deserves repentance...and then there are these other moments (like the coffee incident) that frustrate me because they are just a part of who I am. I'm writing about this seemingly unimportant, "not a big deal", event, because it's not often that I remember that at my core, at the center of my heart, I am sinful. That day in class, I remembered that it was my nature to not speak out....and I hate that. 

For me personally, I think that recognizing this nature, this part of me that I cannot change no matter how hard I try, is recognizing an essential reason for Christ's death. 

Now let me take another whack at what some others might be saying, "Thinking this way places more attention on this sin rather than the grace of God." 

Being a Christian for a while now, I think that its important that I learn to recognize this other part of sin...not the overt sin that others see and it brings me to my knees, but the nature of this sin, or these events that look harmless and really shouldn't be a big deal...but events that would nonetheless play out differently if I weren't "sinful." 

 Christ's blood covers what we recognize as outward sin as well as what we don't. 

and now a random note about how C.J Mahaney and I think this sin works...free of charge:

It never comes in the front door and announces, "Honey I'm home." It distracts. Attacks. And then provides complimentary guilt. Every great general in history has known that an indirect attack works better than one towards an enemy's front lines. Why? Because an indirect attack blows past the conscience's defense and the possibility of doing the right thing goes unseen. 

sucktown...

I saw the coffee. 

I saw the teacher. 

My sinful nature, unfortunately didn't create the option.   

While I'm not too incredibly intrigued by cartography or other mapping devices, geography class has already taught me something useful. 

Thanks Mr. Palmer....

ps. I owe you a coffee. 

bench warmers

Hello?

Is anybody in here? 

Man...I feel like I'm in a Sabrina the Teenage Witch episode and I've just crawled into my computer..

 

Cobwebs are everywhere...

It feels good to be back though. While I haven't done my spring cleaning yet, this place needs a little livening up so I have a thought...

I think its good to feel "out of your league." 

There is some imaginary league out there. I'm sure you've heard of it. It's favorite sayings are, "you're not what we're looking for..." "sorry, but you don't have what it takes" "who told you you could do this?" or simply "please leave." 

BUT what is this league anyway? Who made it? It totally exists but why? Who the heck is in charge? I want answers. 

Let me share an example.

I have a friend who is extremely intelligent. She just exudes confidence and makes all those that encounter her feel the same. Along with being intelligent, I would classify her as an optimist. Always making an awkward situation funny, or finding an excuse at any time in the day to dance, she seeks the best in most situations. She wants to be a high school biology teacher and is taking a very challenging chemistry class this semester. Today was her first day in the class, and over an extremely large tub of cookie dough, she told me how she felt completely out of her league.

 

Here's why. 

The professor of the class, lacking the creativity to think of an interesting ice breaker, asked the students to go around and say their major. She told me that while the other wannabe Darwins and Newtons talked of their pre-medical aspirations and engineering dreams, she with the only education major, felt like a complete "juvenile" and out of her league. 

I'm experiencing an oxymoron of feelings right now. I'm upset that she feels this way but excited. 

Here's some others that I'm sure have felt out of their league. 

Einstein: 

* had immense speech problems when he was younger

* clashed with most of his professors and resented the school regimen 

* forged a doctors note (for good reason) but still...

* after graduating college he had trouble finding a job, and it took him two years to finally 

   do so. 

* divorced 

 

Stephen Hawking: 

* attended St. Albans High School for girls 

* was noted to have extremely poor study habits 

* divorced 

* has Lou Gehrig's disease

King David: 

* Saul wanted to kill him 

* hooks up with Bathsheba...another man's wife

* had a war vs. his son who died as a result

Abraham Lincoln: 

* known by prominent people from the east as the "baboon" due to his height and large ears

* had only two years of formal schooling 

* his wife bankrupted him 

* had severe depression 

Here's the C team lady's and gentlemen...

Screw being "in the league." 

brighter in here already...

Sometimes I feel like Dory

 fish....

Do you know why they bump into the glass all the time?

...just like Dory, their memory only lasts for two seconds.

They forget they're in a tank...seperated by this wall....this constant blockade that's always mocking..."nope" "not today" "try again in two seconds please"...and then once again...

 BAM! 

....Reminded that things cannot be the way you wish they are every two seconds. 

I am like a little Dory.

I constantly desire to make God human.

I constantly want to place Him amongst just another one of my peers. 

I constantly and selfishly want to treat Him similar to everything and anything else in my life.

I constantly demand that He act in ways I understand or recognize. 

I constantly forget that He is not like me...not like us. 

I know He's not human.

I know His ways are not my ways...but only for a little while.

...and then I'm reminded.

once again I've forgotten that I've forgotten. 

But like Dory, I'll just keep swimming...and forgetting...and swimming and forgetting...and the cycle will repeat many times...until my memory begins to improve...begins to lengthen...begins to be restored. 

Then I'll finally reach the place I was created for...where I always remember and never forget 

no more barriers....no more reminding...

just glory...

...just keep swimming

...just keep swimming...

...just keep swimming... swimming...swimming...

couch=community

I'm currently writing this in one of the most amazing places ever....the leather couch in memorial. If you haven't let your buns experience this ocean of comfort (i don't even know what that means but it sounds nice) then you need to. 

I've seem to have found that these couches do not only produce a prime napping environment...they produce a lovely community and here's what I mean:

Have you ever sat on one end of the couch and then someone else came and sat at the other? I mean instantly you learn so much about that person and share a connection...like how you both prefer to sit on the amazing leather couch rather than the bad, patterned, poop brown chairs that surround it. Or how you both aren't afraid to choose comfort over the risk of falling asleep when you are supposed to be doing something productive.

Oh, and then there's the post nap experience that is just phenomenal....

 I have found that every time that I have woken up from a nap on one of these couches, and look up at someone in the surrounding area (looking like a baby who just came out of the womb)...someone will either always smile...or just glance quickly at me...and its in that small moment that you can almost hear them say "long day? yah, me too" or "how was your nap?" or "you've got a little a drool on your shoulder but its okay..." 

I say we get rid of chairs...

that is all.

thinking about words again...

I had quite the romantic day today....

didn't go on a date

didn't get flowers

didn't smooch

instead....

I had breakfast at Ernie's. 

I met two friends this morning at Ernie's diner... it was early and I was tired...and confused at why a 9 oclock breakfast at Ernie's was necessary when I didn't have class until 11. 

But then I was pleasantly surprised...by everything...the weather...the random topics of conversation...my attention span at 9 in the morning...

When thinking about this morning the only word that could come to my mind was romantic. 

I don't know why. 

....Mac's dictionary describes romantic using the words "mystery" and "love." 

I mean I knew I was going to Ernie's, knew that I was going at 9, and knew who I was meeting...but I guess the fact that I'm thinking about this whole thing sixteen hours later means that it must have been the slightest bit mystifying....or mysterious in one way or another...and I love it. 

So there you go...mystery and love....because of breakfast at Ernie's.

Ok so Nicholas Sparks won't include my morning at Ernie's in his next novel...

But if you really think about it...most days, if you're not omniscient or soulless, are quite romantic.

lies

Something really sad happened in my chemistry lab the other day....or actually to my lab partner....

She was telling me about her dreams of becoming a surgeon and different medical missions she had been on with her uncle, and that surgery was the field where her heart really was....and then she started talking about her heart....

She said to me, "My biggest struggle in becoming a doctor will always be the size of my heart...". 

I've never seen someone have a heart attack...until wednesday when she said this. 

Right then and there...I could tell something was attacking her heart...telling it to shrink...threatening that it would hold her back from her real potential. 

LIES! 

Yes, Theresa (that's her name) and I might be the only ones blubbering in the waiting room or sealing our stitches with tears...but how much more will a heart beat mean to us? Or a breath? Or a twitch?.... If you ask me, I would want a doctor who holds these things sacred...wouldn't you? 

I've been thinking about drama a lot lately. The word...its meaning...its many connotations...Why is it when we hear the word drama we think of crap, or gossip, or sucky days, or that one time Heath asked you out through a note that said circle "yes" or "no" but it was really a mean joke from some girls that didn't like your overalls that day and then you had to call your brother from the office while you were faking a stomach ache so that he could come pick you up?!!

ahem...anyways...

 Why is it that when we go on trips we don't want "any drama"? I mean someone on that trip could be walking on the beach and find a sweet note in a bottle from someone who was shipwrecked...that's fricken awesome....but nonetheless dramatic... 

and what about when Jesus walked around here....dramatic right?...think about if it wasn't....or if he didn't stir anybody or anything up?

food for thought?

except no food...

sorry that was deceptive of me...

and now this post is looking a little dramatic...

no wait....

lks;lgksd;lk cslkLK:LKG:LK!!! l:LGK:LGKDLKGS !!! GLKD:LKGSKELKMFLMFL:!!!!!!!

....yes there we go....

candid apologies

First off I would like to apologize...I believe that I have neither the wit nor outrageous original thoughts to have a blog (Liz I wish I could see your face)....But I shall try!

Ok...hhmmm lets see...

OH! lets start with this outrageously large picture of me. (I am sorry about that as well)...this lovely candid was taken in a subway station in Paris. While Liz and I were backpacking through out Europe last summer she became frighteningly intrigued with taking candid food photos of myself. In this picture, although you can't see it, I am holding gourmet chocolate (that came from a vending machine...) in my hand. First this picture frenzy was funny...yah yah we laughed at the various unattractive candid photos (of me)...and then these "funny" moments hit a plateau...and they started looking like this....

As you can see...no longer do I express a playful curiosity for my sister's new interest....now....I'm borderline concerned...and a witttllltle angnwee....I believe this picture of me was tagged as "grumpy gills." 

Alas, my first blog. 

How do you end this thing?

the end?

sure..