Goodbye

The semester is over...this blog will most likely die off with it. Farewell to you, my classmates and professor...many of which I will never encounter again. God's blessings on your endeavors.

The Wonders of NyQuil

Earlier this week I came down with a cold. It sucked...big deal, I know. The worst part was not being able to get a good nights sleep after feeling miserable all day. Then I found my new best friends...the 'Quils...first names Day and Ny...they are so dependable. They always made me feel better. I made myself laugh though because I came to think of DayQuil as some type of energy formula. I thought, if I take DayQuil at night will it help me stay up late and get some work done? Likewise, I came to see NyQuil as some type of poison apple that as soon as I consumed it I would pass out. I made sure to have my contacts out, my pajamas on, and fully reclined before taking a dose. One night I took some NyQuil while sitting at my computer and I swear it made my legs fall asleep. I quickly scrambled up to my bed before the medicine took hold of my entire body. I don't think I understand how it works....but however it works, I'm likin' it.

-Carson

Done with School--Time to Work

"She's like a ticking clock."--Jason Bateman (Juno)

I have absolutely no plans for the future. Graduation is drawing ever nearer, and I have ... well (will have) a piece of paper that states my degree. Rest assured, I'm looking for work, but nothing ... and I mean nothing has given me any success. Scared Shitless is what it should say, but I haven't got time for that. Never do.

In fact, the scared part of me has never been allowed out. It settles next to the stressed, nervous, anxious and panicked. My Dad has been the cause of that. It's not bad; in fact, if he hadn't have been there pushing me, I would've fallen and not made it as far as I am today.
We talked about a week ago, where he "panicked for" me. Somebody has to do it, right?

Oh, I'm plenty worried, but I also have the assurance that God will be there for me. I'm not trying to be "churchy," but on the whole knowing that He has my back helps.

-Becca

The 'good ol' days'

So last week Concordia's Wind Ensemble had a concert. And it was very good. They even played the Pirates of the Caribbean theme... which was very well done. But it brought me back to the thoughts I have about 'the good ol' days' and how people wish they would come back.
Why do we make pirates of the days of old seem so cool? Honestly, I would never want to be one. To be on a ship for months without end. And then to have lice and fleas. Of course, depending on how long one was out at sea, scurvey would probably affect you. And then you have to have these dangerous fights, where if you get shot in the leg, it's likely it will get infected with gangrene and have to be cut off - without anesthesia, only a bullet to bite on and a little whiskey to pull you through.
And what about the pirates we have now? We're not applauding their actions because they're pirates, trying to bring back the good times of pillaging on the high seas. In fact, we worry for the hostages and their families. That's the exact same thing that people felt back when. So why would anyone want to say, "I'd love to be a pirate" ?
And then there's people who say they'd love to have lived in the 18th or 19th century. Sure, it would be nice to go to those fancy balls. But would that really be worth the likelihood of dying of cholera or scarlet fever or smallpox? Or, for women, the high probability of dying during childbirth? How about if you got sick, even with just a short-term flu? You would get a nice session of bloodletting with leeches. And personally, as a female, I would hate that all I could do is sit around and sew, gossip, and wear a corset that is rearranging the organs in my abdomen and not allowing me to breathe.
I'm sure there were interesting things in the past. But you could never make me live there. I'm sure the future might be better, too, and people from the future will not understand how we lived the way we do. But I prefer now, the 21st century. Not everything is perfect, but it's better than before. I'll just read about the past, enjoy the present, and take in the future day by day.
~Jessica

Birthday

As you go through another year of life, do your really gain any more experience or knowledge based on age alone?

As I turn 20, will I experience some monumental event that will make me more mature or wise?

Can our age determine our youth or our wisdom?

It makes me wonder if age really is "nothing but a number." Maybe we should count age on experiences rather than by years.

---Austin B.

Sister

I never have had a sister, and honestly never wanted one. With three older brothers I must have liked being the only girl. Even when I wanted a younger sibling, I always wanted it to be a boy. I'm not sure I understood (-stand) the sister-sister bond. Brother-brother I get from watching mine interact, and sister-brother I know even more intimately. But sister-sister I am only aquainted with. I think, however, and this may be too bold of me, that I am beginning to understand it more through my own relationships with my friends. I have friends close enough that I never worry about losing the relationship, even when fighting and arguing. Even when I want to hit them for being so irritating, I love them. Sisters may think I'm off the mark. Maybe being sisters is completely different. I wouldn't know.

NCIS dilemma...dillema...??

I've been watching a lot of crime shows lately and have noticed a pattern. I'd tell you but I don't want to ruin crime shows for you. I think I'm a junkie. And I really need sleep. I've watched two discs of NCIS in the past like... I don't remember, I started some time this afternoon. I've been netflixing them since I only own the first season and now I'm mid-season four. Ziva just fell in love with this dude with radiation poisoning who was dying but the episode ended and it didn't say if he died or not. Now I've got to put in the next disc. I seriously have issues.
I can't decide who's my favorite chick. I mean clearly out of the guys it's gotta be Dinozzo. He's hysterical. A bit obnoxious at times but his constant movie references I find charming. Plus he has no real competition. I guess Gibbs is awesome so maybe he has a chance but he's always like building a boat in his basement and like he quit and now he's back and he's started a new boat. I'm really confused on how he got rid of the one he was building last season before he "retired." Like how do you get something that big out of your basement? Sadly McGee has no chance. He kinda weirds me out a little.
So here' the dillema. Pretty sure I didn't spell that right. I really like Kate cause Kate was awesome and I own season one so I'm a little bias but Ziva is also seriously kickass. I have problems choosing who's my favorite and Abby is wicked awesome as well. Plus Pauley Perrette is a very cool singer. But each of them are seriously awesome in their own ways. Abby is just like completely out there with all the tattoos and the black, Kate had her sarcasm and quick wit and then Ziva is Mossad and can kick anyone's ass she wants to. Plus she speaks like 8 languages and her version of American idioms are much better than ours. "American idioms drive me up the hall."
I think I really need sleep. Clearly being half asleep will not help me in this dillema. dilemma? dilemme? none of those look right and I'm too lazy too check. or to tired. Okay, i'm out. Hope you guys are having a fun weekend! -CK

Rainy Weather

I love rain... sometime in my life I would like to live in Washington state... Going days without sun would be ok, people say I'm crazy for this. Don't get me wrong, I love nice, sunny days, once in awhile...

On My Mind At The Moment

Seven more days of classes and then finals. This school year has gone by so fast, and so much has happened in that time. A lot of good and a lot of bad has taken place. For the most part, I'm glad to leave my junior year behind me, though. Anything to do with college these last couple semesters has just amounted to a lot of stress and little to see for it. What kept me going was improv, the one acts I directed, and good friends. Oh, and living off campus made it a lot easier, too.

The only stress factors I have now are getting through my classes, doing well on my finals, and finding a summer job. That last part has been a chore for me ever since I got back from Spring Break. I've submitted eight applications. Out of that, one place gave me an interview [but didn't give me the job] and another told me today to call back in a couple weeks. If push comes to shove, I may be forced to spend the summer with my parents so I can work in Kansas City [if I can even find work there]. As much as I'd enjoy being with friends there for four months, I don't think I can survive my parents that long. It'll be my last desperate option if I don't find work here.

Speaking of Kansas City, I'm not sure when I'll be stopping by for a visit next. The most likely time would seem to be around the weekend of Memorial Day, but you never know when I might find the time and/or occasion to make it down there...

..and to back track to the subject of the One Acts, I just posted the video of the One Act I wrote and directed for this past weekend: The Interview. If you missed out on seeing it, or just want to see it again, its at the bottom of this blog entry.

Oh, and one thing I am completely excited for is moving from my apartment to a house Dustin and I are renting for the next year. Dad is loaning me his truck in a week so I can move my stuff [furniture doesn't fit so well in a Corolla]. It'll be busy and hectic, but I'll enjoy it.

Anyways, that's about all I have to say. The end.

The Interview

-Josh

"The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas"

I went to rent a few movies Friday afternoon, must've just been as the schools were dismissing for the day. This boy came in, he was probably 10? just guessing, I'm not very good at that - but he was young! And he asked for a movie, but I couldn't hear the title of it. The owner/worker at the rental place really questioned him renting this particular movie, asking him if he knew what the movie was about. She continued on saying it's a very graphic movie and that it is intense, especially for a boy his age. He just told her he was intrigued by "this stuff."All the while, I'm wondering what the heck this kid is trying to rent. He leaves and I go on my search for a good movie. A few minutes later, this guy - I'm assuming it was his Dad - came in looking for him. The little boy had told this man to meet him at the video store so they could go home. The video owner/worker tells this man the same thing she tells the boy. By this time, my curiosity has gotten the best of me and after the man leaves I ask her what movie he rented - "The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas." Made me curious that I wanted to see it, but it was rented so I couldn't, probably for the best... but the owner gave me a synopsis of the movie... I'm not going to spoil it for those of you who may enjoy this type of movie, but it's one that would give me nightmares. With this movie being about WW II and the concentration camps, the owner/worker was floored by this boy being "interested" in this stuff, almost to the point of being concerned about this boy when he becomes an adult. My guess is they're learning it in school... I remember when I was probably about his age I loved to read information on Anne Frank's family... This post really doesn't have much point other then that I think it's amazing how much a student can get intrigued to go rent a movie on a Friday night about what he's probably studying in school... granted the movie is probably horrid, it's still learning. And if it wasn't school that intrigued him in this stuff... then I wonder what it was...

History

What's so great about History?

I'm not sure. But I like it.

There's something about learning about the past that interests me.

Maybe it's because I find it as a way to learn from past experiences.
Maybe it's because I like living vicariously through it.
Maybe it's because I wish I could jump back in the past.
Maybe this is an essay.

I don't know.

---Austin B.

It Is [Nearly] Finished

I can hardly believe it: the One Acts are over and we're left with two weeks of classes and then finals. The semester has gone by so fast. I'm not really complaining, though. The highlight of it was directing two One Acts, and now that I'm through with that, I'm ready for the end to be here. I want to just move from the apartment to the house and have a job secured for the next several months [as of this post, Old Chicago has not called me back]. However, I still have some obstacles to get over before May comes around. Several tests, unfinished projects, and preparing for the final IMPROVables show of the year will keep me busy until finals week.

-Josh

Stress

Lately I 've been so stressed that I'm rendered immobile. I've been sitting here for hours with a blank page in front of my face, thinking that I need to write something. I can't though, can write nothing meaningful or eye-catching. They're just words ... words that look/sound and--for all senses and purposes--are terrible. There's nothing more for it, but to take the process up again tomorrow ... more accurately, later today.

I'm extremely displeased when stressed. Somehow it has an effect on everything in my life. I can't function properly, feel as if I need to cry every time a hat is dropped. Do you know how many hats are dropped per second? Me neither.

I'm done. Done with making a small dent in my seemingly mountainous pile of crap. Oh, and I've deadline too! Graduation is in days. I have no job, a limited number of prospects, a mother who's breathing down my neck ... thank God for friends who understand that this isn't as easy as one feels it should be.

Becca

Leaving me

In just a week's time I will no longer technically be known as the president. Big deal, right? I'll be ok moving on, letting go of responsibility, no problem! If only it were that simple.

Over the past few years I have been this person, identified by many because of this role. Now I leave this role behind and as I do, I feel a part of me is being left also. I feel like an idiot blogging about this because not everyone may understand. Do you get it? Do you know what it feels like to have put so much of yourself into something that it becomes an extension of who you are? It thrives when you give it attention and energy.

Three years ago someone walked up to me and told me to run for office... looking back, that decission was life-changing. I gave so much, but feel like I could have given more. This regret is not healthy for me. I should focus on what I did do and helped accomplish, but that regret, that nagging feeling is there pointing it's crooked finger at me telling me I should have done more things, given more of myself. If I would have done this would there be any of ME left? I will need me in the future, because when I leave here I can't leave all of me behind.

RW

The sounds I'll never hear again...

Sometimes, I hear sounds and I wonder if I will ever hear them again...

Before I get into that though, I want to say this: I am only 21 years old, but I sometimes feel much older. Sometimes kids that are only 4 years younger than me stare at me like I am crazy because I talk about a time when we didn't have the Internet at my house. When I recall a time when our cell phone was the size of a real phone. When I laugh at the idea of buying tapes for music. It is simply mind boggling to me to think about how quickly things change today. It makes me wonder what will be different in a few years.

I am sitting in the quiet office right now and in the next room I hear the shrill spinning of an electric pencil sharpener. It takes me back to a time when we only used hand crank pencil sharpeners. When there would be a whole line of 3-foot-tall 3rd graders standing in attention, waiting to use the little silver machine. The sound of grinding wood echoing through the classroom. Now everyone uses electric sharpeners. How long before mechanical pencils completely take over and there is no such thing as a No. 2 anymore? Then even electric models will be cast aside like over washed clothes and unloved Barbie dolls.

What else is becoming obsolete? What other noises do you NEVER hear anymore? The obnoxious dial up of the Internet? We hated that sound, but now, in its absence... do we feel the same? What about way a crank telephone clicks? Or a train sounds? Or even the way a car sounds? Yes, they even have cars that run silently. How long before that is the norm and the low rumble of an engine fades into the distance...?

Technology is so great. But what is it replacing...? Is there anything we will miss in 50 years and be too old to remember? Will turning up my hearing aid in 50 years even do me any good, or will I simply hear the silence of a perfectly tuned out world? I guess I'll just have to wait and see...

naught but this and that

These posts are becoming harder and harder to complete. I know part of it is the longing I have to be finished with this stage of my schooling, and part because I am growing more weary as the days slowly ebb by. I feel like I lack the will to complete such onerous and arduous tasks as the end of the semester holds.
About all that holds my interest for more than a few eye-blinks is reading. By losing myself in someone else's world the other tasks do not seem manageable, but something changes. Maybe it provides me with the break I need, maybe the story inspires me to trudge along, maybe the characters begin to rub off on me and I feel that I can go on. I don't know which it is. What I do know is that this post is at an end and 'A Clash of Kings' by George R. R. Martin is being picked up once again

Dustin

confusion and frustration

Yay for sleeping in! Saturday night church is awesome like that.
So the play is quickly approaching as is the end of the semester. I have kind of a slow week this week but then next week it will be crazy. Hopefully I'll work ahead this week, but I'm really doubting it.
I still have no idea what I want to do for a job this summer. Everyone keeps asking me but I don't have an answer. I dunno if I wanna stay in Geneva or Lincoln or Seward... I don't know what I want to do - maybe work in a library or I just don't know. I'm confused and I'm tired of people asking because it just makes me feel like a failure. I don't even know where to start. I'm ready for the semester to be over but then again I'm not.
That's all for today. -CK

The Final Count

This is it, we are down to the final count of the semester, and here's the thing...I am going to die.  I think it might be by suffocation of text books or possibly by multiple paper cuts.  I haven't decided yet which is worse yet, but due to the amount of work that I have to do at the moment I'm seriously thinking that option A would be better then having to do all the things that are currently stacking up on my desk.  

If I could have anything in the world right now, it would be that life would pause for just a few seconds so that I could take a breath, sit down, and not do anything if only just for awhile.  I would like to continue on, but as the stack of papers begin to teeter quite dangerously next to me, I think I might need to stop and move away. If I am not in class on Monday, you may correctly assume that I am dead and are cordially invited to my funeral.  Lunch provided

The End of Sticky Notes

I spent part of my Easter break downloading new applications for my computer. I went browsing online for various free downloads that I thought looked like fun. I found some free photo editing software, a program that allows you to create slideshows of pictures with music, and some video editing software. However, perhaps my favorite new download came from Google, of course. It's called the Google Desktop. It essentially is a sidebar present on the screen that allows you to add various applications to it for easy access at all times. You can get buttons that immediately direct you to a dictionary, email, news summaries, youtube, etc. I also have a repeating miniature slideshow of all my photos in this sidebar.

However, perhaps my favorite part of Google Desktop is a thing called scratch pad. It essentially is a to-do-list right there on my desktop. I pretty much have sticky notes all over my desk, but now that I have this new application I can just combine them all onto one. AND I don't have to worry about losing this one...unless my computer crashes. Now I realize there have been similar features on most computers for some time, but to be honest, nobody has ever taught me how to use them. Google Desktop makes it so easy. The only disadvantage is that my daunting to-do-list is continually staring me in the face whenever I use my computer. Maybe I'll actually get stuff done now. In fact, one of the notes on my list says "Post CNF Blog"...which I'm doing right now (never mind that it's a few days late).

-Carson

parents

My parents are here.

Two worlds collide.

Being in my old home (Maryland, parents, my dad's church) is always really strange. I am a different person here than I am there, so the conflict of two different people being alive in the same little body is always kind of hard to handle. Now, my old home has come to my new home, and I'm forced to confront the inconsistency.

Will it always seem like I'm living on the edges of something new, but still dragging the old along behind me?

words of inspiration

Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great. - Mark Twain· Great works are performed, not by strength, but by perseverance. – Samuel Johnson· Lose what you cannot keep- to gain what you cannot lose – Jim Elliot · The first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: Decide what you want. – Ben Stein · We can only learn to love by loving. – Iris Murdoch · Courage is not simply one of the virtues but the form of every virtue at the testing point, which means at the point of highest reality. – C.S. Lewis · The person who has no opinion will seldom be wrong. – Anonymous · I will not condemn you for what you did yesterday, if you do it right today – Sheldon S. Maye · Making the simple complicated is commonplace; making the complicated simple, awesomely simple, that’s creativity. – Charles Mingus · Fear isn't an excuse to come to a standstill. It's the impetus to step up and strike. – Anonymous · If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude. Don't complain. - Maya Angelou · All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them. - Walt Disney · Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe.  - Saint Augustine · I am America (and so can you!) – Stephen Colbert · I never knew how to worship until I knew how to love. - Henry Ward Beecher · There is a wisdom of the head, and a wisdom of the heart. - Charles Dickens · I honestly think it is better to be a failure at something you love than to be a success at something you hate. - George Burns · Strong lives are motivated by dynamic purposes. ·

aeu

A Day in the Life

"And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." Beatles lyrics always make me feel very philisophical. They inspire deep and critical thinking inside my head.

As a senior who is graduating in less than four weeks (*SOB*), I've been thinking about "the end" a lot. I'm scared poopless. What I fear the most is losing the ability to see all my friends every day and whenever I want. My life is primarily focused on friendship--always has been--because friends help you get through life. Families cause problems and you can't always get away from them; you can't choose your family; school stresses you out. But friends, you get to choose them. With friends, nothing is really obligatory. Maybe for some people their friends cause obligations. But I've become good at choosing friends who don't make you do anything. We're friends because we have a mutual desire to be friends--no obligation. Makes you wanna stick around them.

Anyway, friends get me through life. They distract me, they make me laugh, they make me feel good about myself, they comfort me, they keep me company. I love friends. I don't think that my friends really know how much I appreciate them all. Some more than others--but that's a given.

I've never been happier than during my four years at Concordia. I believe that not only did I get away from my family, but I was held in the arms of the friend that is Concordia. As a whole, Concordia is my favorite 'person.' Everyone here is wonderful--and not just my close friends. I consider my professors to be friends; strangers are friendly; faculty and staff are the greatest people ever.

Why would anyone ever want to leave?

I've moved a couple times. Once from California the summer before 8th grade, when I was 12 years old and then I 'moved' to Nebraska from Texas to attend Concordia. Both those times I lost touch with people I saw all the time. When I moved to Texas, I was excited. I didn't realize how rough it'd be and how truly far away I was from everyone I knew. It eventually hit me hard. Then I moved on...got to high school and met GREAT people at my Lutheran High School. Once again, teachers were friends, I had great friends, loved sports and coaches, etc. I didn't think anything could be better than high school.

Then I arrived at Concordia. After the first week I forgot all about anything I had ever done before and anyone I'd ever met before. I was consumed by the life force of Concordia. I was meeting wonderful new people every day, I was surrounded by people CONSTANTLY. The only time I had time to myself was when I was asleep--and I still had my awesome roommate sleeping below me. My room was swarming will hallmates all the time. I was out and about with my best friend every day and night. Things haven't slowed down ever since. I CONSTANTLY meet new people. Even this semester--my last one--I've met new people and become close to them...and closer to people I already new. Every year I lose friends, or just lose our closeness--either by my choice or theirs (I assume that if it's not my choice, it can only be their's). I should be used to having friends, changing friends, losing contact, etc. This is not the first time I've moved somewhere. I can do it. I just love CU SO much. Honestly. It's so great here.

I just sent an application to a real job. I held my breath as I clicked the "send" button. I'd like this job...but I have an opportunity to work at CUNE for the summer...and I want to take that. I might have an opportunity to continue working at CUNE in the marketing department AFTER the summer and I'd like nothing more...but it's still all up in the air. That's the only downside. What if I get offered a job by the company I just applied to? It would be smart to chose that over waiting around to see if Concordia has a job for me....but...seriously...I would LOVE to work at CU!!!! Small dream job, before park ranger, dolphin trainer, island caretaker, personal trainer, etc.

We'll see!

PS: Why don't more people take advantage of the colored fonts on this thing?I feel like the only one...which is ok. I like to be unique. ;) (Or in the words of Coach Olson, "one of a kind.")

Fair

Another five spots on her liver, the beginning of tumors. Really? REALLY? I thought things were going well! Why does she have to go through this again? It really put a damper on the whole Easter weekend, but I guess if you are going to get this kind of news there isn't a better time. You hear the bad and then are reassured of eternal life through Christ's resurrection. But seriously.

SERIOUSLY?! Hasn't she been through enough? Surgery, radiation, chemo... I just want to scream. Life is NOT fair.

It's not fair that mom has to continually deal with this.
It's not fair that I'm the one she confides in- her CHILD.
It's not fair that she may be dying.
It's not fair that I might not get to have her around for some important things in my life- i.e. marriage, kids and LIFE!

As I dwell in my self-centered ponderings I think about what this is doing to her, what it must feel like to hear these things and think about the possibility of death...

I don't want to think about it. I want to be done with this, but it's just starting again for her...
another type of chemo,
another cycle of mood swings,
tears and side effects.

It's not over yet.

RW

Happy Easter!

My brother goes to UNO and attends King of Kings on Sundays for church. He loves it there, granted it isn't always my favorite style of worship, I enjoy it sometimes. He wanted us as a family to attend their Easter service because it was talked about for weeks in church. For those of you who don't know and didn't hear the radio/see the tv ads, this isn't a small service - they rent out the Qwest Center in Omaha... yah, it's huge. I think the tv stations today said there were around 6,500 people there, they were aiming for 10,000. The sermon was really good - "Admit One" - it talked about admitting our sins and how Christ has freed us. The music was good, although I didn't know half the songs. I just wonder how many people came to that service for their first church service ever... it was the largest service (obviously) in the metro area, which I think caused some envy from other churches based on comments on the news stories online... envy on an Easter service. This type of service isn't for everyone, which is why it's good that there were other services for some to attend. Looking back, I would go again on another Easter if the opportunity is there...

What I want to be...

I have never wanted to be older. Even now, I would gladly return to being five, not to do things differently, but simply to repeat my childhood. I loved spending days with my mom, playing picture bingo and watching Lamb Chops.
In kindergarten my teacher had the class draw what they wanted to be when they grew up. I honestly could not think of anything. I never went through various stages of "what I want to be". I could never imagine myself grown up.
Now I know my goal, know what I am going to do. I want to get into pharmacy school. I still cannot imagine myself being a pharmacist, though. Being a pharmacist means being an adult and I cannot picture or desire it.

Easter Break

This weekend was Easter break. It is nice to be home with my family. Alicia is with me and it is funny to sort of see my family through her eyes. Instead of looking at my family the way I always do, in an overcast light, I observe them in the way that I would a stranger. I can see their flaws and their personality traits, I can see the things that people see; the things that I used to think were crazy and now I realize are just funny. It's like suddenly seeing clearly after looking through a kaleidoscope for years.

They are really truly colorful people. Each of them is unique and hilarious in their own way. I feel like our family could be traveling comedians. We each have our own sense of humor, slightly similar to each others. Sarcastic. Pick on each other constantly (in a loving way, of course). The best kind of funny, to us... maybe not to everyone else. I think they are all hilarious, though my mother told Alicia that she didn't think that my dad was very funny. I always get his jokes. I think that we are too similar. Like father like daughter I suppose.

It's funny to me, to realize that in high school I felt so embarrassed by some things that they did when my friends were around. Now I appreciate them more than ever. Like a fine wine... they have gotten better with time.

I don't know if Alicia has had fun here in David City: Population 2,500. But I know that I have, I enjoy the time with my three favorite people.

The Days are Marching On

I'm glad to see the end of the semester approaching. It's so close I can make out its distinct shape and stride. If I could run and meet it halfway, I would have done it long ago. Alas, I am tethered by responsibilty and time to stay put. The tether is made up of several things, many of which occur Friday. I have a test first thing that morning, followed by a couple more classes, my parents' arrival to see the One Acts, a job interview at Old Chicago in Lincoln, and then the opening night of the One Acts. Any down time I may have will be taken up by keeping my parents busy so they don't get antsy or weigh me down with rapid fire questions that won't cease until something else grabs their or my attention. Fortunately, they won't be staying the entire weekend, so I won't be completely insane by this time next week.

One week from now, if I get the job at Old Chicago, I should be relieved of stress for the most part. Finals week never really gets to me, and I'll be moving from my apartment to a house a few blocks north that same week. I honestly don't like moving, but when I'm in a new space that I get to arrange, rearrange, and decorate...well, I am in one of my little 'happy places.'

Rest of Semester = trying to survive
Summer = income, relaxation, worry-free bliss

-Josh

St. Louis

This glorious Easter weekend I took a trip - a blast from the past if you will. I decided to take a spur of the moment trip with my friend Phil back to his home in Fulton, Missouri, which is close to St. Louis. Over the weekend, we actually went into St. Louis to watch a Cardinals game and meet up with a friend.

Being a native to Missouri, St. Louis in particular, returning is sort of an interesting experience. I moved away from St. Louis when I was roughly twelve years old - at the beginning of junior high. I grew up with St. Louis - it was all I'd ever known for most of my childhood.

I usually return annually to the Gateway to the West, but each time I'm struck with the same sense of nostalgia, the same sense of longing for the past.

I never really got an opportunity to build a lot of solid friendships while I was in grade school. I definitely had best friends and sleepovers and all that good stuff, but none of the relationships or friendships that I formed then are still existent today.

I visit all the old sites - the houses, the food joints, the schools, the ball fields - but my memory is void of friendships, of experiences. I remember the places, and I remember how much I liked this or that and how much I loved someplace or another, but I can't remember why.

My longing comes not only from wishing that I had gathered more friendships and experiences from my time St. Louis, but it also comes from my longing to know why it still has such a powerful effect on me. Sure, it was where I was born. Sure, I spent my childhood there. But why does that matter so much?

---Austin B.

Tea-bagging? Seriously?

Okay, gotta say, remind me again why I'm a Republican? Tea-bagging? Seriously? Who came up with that? I get the protests but sending tea-bags to DC? Bizarreness. Found this video - Rachel Maddow just cracks me up anyway. She kind of reminds me a bit of Dr. Ashby. Gotta say my favorite part is around 2:07. I don't think I could keep a straight face either.

"Well who wouldn't want to tea-bag John McCain?" *takes camera off Rachel who's about to completely lose it* I like that every time she appears to be losing it they put Ana on full-screen.
Is it bad that I'm really not surprised David Vitter is all over this?
-CK

Hello, Blog- it's been awhile. How have you been?

Okay, now onto the real subject matter. I was really happy with how my final essay turned out. It was acutally a big surprise. But, I was looking through some class notes the other day and found a writing exercise we did that I liked. I forgot to include it in my essay and I am disappointed. SO. I'm going to put it here.

The questions were, Why hold onto all that? Where can I put it down?
It's not even mine to hold anymore, or his. It's out there, somewhere, eluding capture, a wild beast I've yet to tame. And should I even try? The only way to reign it in, little by very little, is to write.

Irony

I don't have class until after 10 on Mondays, but I got up at 7:45. Why, you may ask? This weekend the Nebraska Collegiate Media Association Conference was held up at Wayne college. A few members of the Sower staff were honored with awards at this ceremony. However, none of the honorees from Concordia decided to attend under the advisement of Prof. Ohlman. He said it wasn't worth driving the distance for this award ceremony. I now understand why...

So I met a man from the NCMA this morning at 8 because he was supposed to drop off our awards that we weren't present to accept on Saturday. I was very appreciative of this man taking the time to come by Concordia's campus on his way to work at Doane. However, as he pulled out our awards I noticed that our students names were spelled wrong. I had noticed that these names were spelled incorrectly a couple weeks ago when we received notice of our winnings. I sent them several emails correcting the mistake and they assured me it would be taken care of. It wasn't.

Now, I don't mean to whine, but I just kind it somewhat ironic that a journalism association has trouble spelling correctly. I'm just glad we didn't drive up to Wayne to accept awards that were printed with our names spelled incorrectly. That would have been irritating. The man apologized and said they will reprint them and mail them out. He's the one who noticed the mistake; I probably wouldn't have said anything. I appreciated him taking time coming out to Concordia so we didn't have to waste ours driving to some second-rate journalism competition. Rant over.

Wake up

I woke up this weekend to realize that my time at Concordia is dwindling down to just a few short weeks. These weeks are packed with school, internship, work and life. I feel like I need to make a list for myself of everything I want to do before I graduate because once May comes I'm done.

Done. Finished. Four years of my life. Gone. So much has happened. I feel like my life is a constant essay, being written by the day. Sometimes I wish I could take a break and have someone else write it for me. If that were the case I would take a vacation, maybe to Brazil? I have always loved to listen to people speaking Portuguese. Then I could find a very attractive Brazilian man to take me dancing. His name would probably be Marcelo (which according to familyberry.com was one of the most popular names in Brazil in 1980).

Where did Brazil come in? I think my mind just doesn't want to realize what is going on, that yet again I will have to say goodbye to people that I care about. It's just another place I have lived. Maybe I'm just tired of having to start anew or maybe I am stuck in this cycle. I like my life, where I have been and I am excited to see what is next. Now that it is past midnight I believe there are now only 33 days till graduation (I'll check Emily's facebook to make sure). For now I know I need to focus on the here and now and stop thinking of Marcelo and his ability to move so gracefully across the dance floor.

RW

High school to college

Yesterday was my sister's junior prom. I got to see her all dressed up, and my dad and I drove with her into Lincoln to drop her off at her friend's house, where a big group of them were meeting and then going to dinner and the dance from there. It was interesting to watch the kids, see them all dressed nice and having fun together. Sometimes they were really silly, acting just like, well, high schoolers. Sometimes I just wanted to roll my eyes.

I think back to when I was that age, those high school years. I did enjoy my it, spending time with friends and doing all those high school activities. I was probably a silly high school girl, just like my sister. I have tons of memories from those years. I wouldn't trade those years for anything.

But you couldn't pay me enough to make me want to go back to high school. I don't know how I made it work, eight classes every day with homework for each every night, going to bed at 12:30 or 1 and getting up at 6 or 6:15. And you all know how it was... the cliques that existed, the gossip, the 'high school drama.' It just seems so... unimportant now. For some reason college just seems so much better, my classes are all interesting and more 'valuable' as I see it, and although some 'drama' still exists in the gossip chain, I tend more towards the apathetic side of things. Maybe it's just the growing up that happens in college that does this. I never want to go back to high school, but I did enjoy it at the time.

Sometimes my sister says or does things that I think are so 'high school' and ridiculous. Sometimes I want to say to her how silly she is, how 'high school' it is. But I don't, because I realize she should cherish these times. The high school time won't last too long, she'll be in college soon. I wonder if she will think the same thing about high school that I do now?
~Jessica

I'm Not Going Home for Easter

Easter is approaching, and as a lot of people are heading home for the four day weekend later this week, I'm left wondering why. My hometown is less than four hours away, and yet I don't think its worth the drive for a four day weekend. I guess it has to do with the importance people put on togetherness with family around holidays like Easter. It has never seemed that important or special to me. Sure, it commemorates a very important day for us Christians, but I don't see why I should be with family for the commemoration. When I am with my parents for Easter, we'll go to church together that Sunday and possibly go out to eat. That's it. It's nothing different from any other Sunday with my parents other than the possibility of going to a restaurant to eat. Totally not worth the gas or seven hour round trip.

What about the church services leading up to Easter Sunday? Dad never goes to those and I rarely have. Mom has typically just gone herself and not hassled either of us about going, although there have been occasions that she got me to go to Good Friday service. I wasn't even aware of Maunday Thursday until I was in high school.

So, I ask you: are you going home for Easter break and why?
-Josh

Simple

There is something about being alone that is comforting to me. The other week I was sitting in the Marketing office and I was the only one at work. Thank you President Friedrich for having a budget meeting. The usual hum of the women working and phones ringing was missing and the replacement noise was soft. Quiet typing echoed from my keyboard. Occasionally the switchboard rang and I answered. I directed their calls away from there. Turned down the noise.

It's amazing how clear and easy it was to think. It's hard to have clouded thoughts when the "sky" is so blank. Like a new canvas. My thoughts flowed freely and creatively. I had a moment to stop and digest the last few hours. Assess the future. Wonder about the past.

I wondered about what the world would look like if there was more of this unknown activity: silence. If the cars stopped honking and the phones stopped ringing and high schoolers un-budded their ears. If everyone listened. If everyone took a moment to slowly inhale and close their eyes.

Sometimes, it is said that technology has opened the eyes of the world. I wonder, though, how much farther open they would be if technology was on the back burner. I know technology is necessary. I love it, in fact. My name is Emily and I am addicted to technology. Yes, I check my email 10 times a day. Yes I have a blog and a twitter and a facebook and a myspace. Yes. Yes. Yes.

BUT. There is the off occasion that I see the world in silence. That I notice the simplicity of a moment without so much movement. I wonder... how much more could I see?

Where has time gone?

It's always so weird when you think of a random memory and then consider how long it has been since you thought that memory. It's so scary to think that I am going to graduate next year and as cliche as it sounds I remember moving in to this place like it was yesterday. I hate it when I find myself wishing away days and nights just so I can get to a certain time in my life in which I will probably be wishing away those days and nights so I can get to the next phase. Time is so important but it is the thing that I take for granted most. Can you relate?

H.F.

Muse

I love the name of our blog: "Submerged Truth: Musings of English 328." Submerged truth is a deep thing to think about (no pun intended). I love the word musing. Musings. To muse. A muse.

Muse. n.
Greek Mythology: Any of the nine daughters of Mnemosyne and Zeus, each of whom presided over a different art or science.
A guiding spirit.
A source of inspiration.
A poet.

I am need of a muse for my life. I need inspiration. I need something to inspire some direction, some desire, some excitement. I feel like I have to inspire myself--and I'm terrible at self-inspiration. In college, I'm inspired to get 'okay' grades to keep my scholarships. In high school I was inspired to practice hard by my basketball/volleyball coach.

Sometimes I have truly inspiring thoughts. But the inspiration doesn't last long. It fizzles. Sometimes I'm inspired by something someone says. For example, last night I was chatting with a friend on Facebook. He told me that if I feel so passionate about a certain thing, that I should DO something about it, rather than sit and think about it. So I did. For the first time in a long time, I actually started 'doing.' Maybe, from now on, I should 'do' whatever I feel inspired to do, instead of just thinking about it and imagine what it would be like. I need to keep the inspiration lit in myself once it happens, no matter how it happens.

I hate that I need intense passion to get me interested in 'doing'. I hate that I let myself get in the way of my own dreams and ambitions. It's really starting to get on my nerves. It annoys me when people have higher expectations for me than I have for myself. I'm just living life, trying to survive but I should be actively 'doing', making a difference, being utterly awesome.

My goal in life: be utterly awesome. My inspiration: What would Jesus do?

Alicia "Passionate" Foley

R.I.P.

Rest in Peace: Thomas Antony Zachman (TAZ), you were pretty annoying and not many people liked you but you killed a lot of zombies, this drink is for you.

I will admit it I am a geek. Last night in a D&D-esque Pen and Paper role playing game (All Flesh Must Be Eaten), my character died. At least one other person was sad to see him go, the rest not so much because my character (accidentally and inadvertently) killed off the other characters or slighted them in some way. It is just a game but it is sad to see something you have worked on go down in flames (or a barrage of shot from a shotgun blast); something that everyone enjoyed, laughed at, and had fun with. And while I am sure my next character will be entertaining (I mean who doesn't find a Catholic priest trying to make people facing a zombie apocalypse (zombocalypse) go through confession/absolution funny...anyone...am I alone here?) it won't be the same nieve sense of adventure that has driven the story forward thus far.

TAZ: Hey, I brought you a present!
BROW-BROW: What is it?
TAZ: It's a zombie with a satellite dish strapped to its hands. I got it for you since you tried to kill me earlier.
BROW-BROW: Brow-Brow like! Where did you find it? And how did you get it in the back of your truck?

So here's to you TAZ, your memory and sense of adventure will live on in our campaign to rid Seward of Zombies.

Dustin

I just can't get you out of my head...

So, I find that every time we karaoke I get the most bizarre songs stuck in my head and they last for days. This is probably because we sing bizarre songs most of the time. This time it is "The Loco-motion" by Kylie Minogue. I've wanted to sing that one since I saw the video this summer so I guess it's really my fault. What do you guys do when you get songs stuck in your heads? Mine refuse to leave my head until they are replaced by another. For instance, "The Loco-motion" has just replaced "Pop Muzik" by M. We did "Carrieoke" for my 21st and my friend sang it. After that I couldn't stop singing it and actually taught it to my niece and nephew. I'm pretty sure my sister and brother-in-law hate it now since all the kids do when I come over is sing it. It's cute though.
Anyway, just for your pleasure, here's the awesome Kylie Minogue version of the song.
-CK

Getting Along

This has been a subject of great sensitivity for me: my relationship with my mother. We don't get along, you see.

My brothers and sister say that we're so much alike that we can't find a level of agreement. I disagree, but I can say this: I am the person I am today, because of my mother. Without the ability to see her mistakes, I would have no way to learn from them. The piss-off-ed-ness of our qualms help me reflect on how I want to live my life, instead of becoming something like the monstrosity of that woman.

The part of my Dad that comes inside of me is the reflectiveness of the situation. I can take perspective on my own life and where it's headed. If I don't like it, then I change myself, which is no easy feat but necessary. It's important to have that quality in order to know where we stand with ourselves, God and our fellow man.

I slip into habits of the past selves. Let's face it; I'm a sinner. On the whole though, I've made great strides.

Back to the mother thing: I think the good thing about that is I haven't given up yet.

Becca

Time

It's 1:45 now and it will soon be 1:46.

Time is an entity that is constantly slipping away from us. Time can never be gained, only lost.

Time has such a high priority in our society today. Being "on time" shows politeness, good manners, and respect.

I think that so many people wish there were more hours in the day and more time to do this or that. But will we ever be truly satisfied with time? Even if it was a 32 hour day, would we not simply yearn for a 40 hour day?

Time will never be enough. Time cannot always mend all things. Time cannot ever leave one truly fulfilled.

It's now 1:51 and it will soon be 1:52.

---Austin Beckman

A Mirror of Change

Most of us experience some degree of change in our lives. Currently, many of us deal with the aspect of our high school relationships changing. Others deal with current family members and close friends changing. Some may find change in a major, a transfer, or a love found or lost. It is interesting - maybe even insightful, to be a spectator of this change. We can analyze the choices of others and, to a certain extent, empathize with those experiencing change.

Often times, I wish I was able to see the change in my own life. I'd like to see how I've changed since age 5 to age 10 to age 15 to age 20 - and I'm not just talking about physically. How has my brain changed? How has my decision making, my morals, my standards, my thought process in general changed over the last 15 years? It is for this reason that I wish I had a type of mirror to experience this change first hand. What insights are to be gained from seeing yourself in that kind of light?

--- Austin Beckman

Dependability

I was on internet forever last Sunday, trying to figure out something to blog. I kept rereading what has been blogged and well, nothing came to me. I can't really say that I have anything to blog about this week, either... so this is kind of random. I've been noticing lately how when certain people hang out with certain people they change. That sounds confusing, but I don't know how to say it any other way. I'm probably the same way, I just don't see it unless it's pointed out to me. It just amazes me how much impact one person can have on another person, good or bad. How they act, how they hold themselves, what they wear, when they talk on the phone, who they text, etc... Maybe it's because I try to be independent that this dependability that people have on each other can drive me insane, but I don't know...

Patience

Patience is a virtue. Well, clearly this is one virtue that I do not possess in the least. I work at a tanning salon. It's Friday night and normally I would be able to get off early but people are still rolling in at 9:42. Why in the world do you need to tan at this hour on a FRIDAY NIGHT?! You can't possibly wait to get skin cancer until tomorrow?

I've never been patient. It used to be something that I denied, but now I will freely admit to it, I have zero patience. Whether it is waiting for something good or bad, it makes no difference. I work for what I want and I want it now. Did I mention that I'm quit stubborn too? That was probably a given.

-SRH

Forgetting Again

I have a difficult time remembering to blog. This is the third week in a row I have been late. (I probably shouldn't be broadcasting that fact, but oh well...)

Part of the difficulty lies in the time-- by Sunday at 4. Maybe it's the fact that it's 4pm, and nothing else is ever due at that time. 3, maybe 5, but never 4.

But I'm inclined to believe that I can't remember because it's Sunday.

There's something about Sundays... and you would think that because I'm doing a mad dash to remember all of the other homework I would recall blogging... but no.

Maybe that's what planners are for.

AEM

Don't jump on it

I have started reading the Harry Potter series. I am a little late in this trend, yes, but I do things on my own time. I don't like going along with the crowd. If there is something that people are super excited about and I already don't love it, chances are I'll avoid that something at all costs. Example, the Twilight series that had everyone, including some very close friends, all excited... not me. I have not read any of them, nor do I plan on it. Maybe in 20 years after the vampire-crazed teens have settled down, but not anytime soon.

I have often questioned why I do this. Even last night I was sharing a discussion about this with someone else who has a similar pattern of behavior and thinking. We both really don't know why we don't like to follow the crowd when it comes to these pop culture fads. Instead of doing something because everyone else does it, I would rather like something, develop an understanding, then go along with it.

Example: Sex and the City. I really like the show and have further developed a liking over the years so of course when the movie came out I was very excited. I saw it twice in theaters, which is something I usually don't do. I didn't just jump on the bandwagon because everyone was doing it.

RW

Last Essay

With this last essay I'm finding it harder to explain my thoughts. I'm realizing I still don't really understand how I feel about past events. I'm also toeing the line of what's mine to tell. Since the only three people will be reading it I don't feel as conflicted but still.... if I do share this with the subject someday, I don't want them to be angry about what I said. I'm trying to avoid letting this knowledge censor or alter what needs to be said, but it's hard. I want to give the truth but I don't want full disclosure. I want both and but I think complete truth only comes through full disclosure. I don't know. I just am realizing that this may be my hard writing. Because I don't want to write it.

Cyberspace Creeper

so I just got an email from some creepy old man today. he invited me to be his facebook friend...so I cautiously checked out his profile only to find that we are already friends. what? when did this happen...and why? so i began snooping around his profile a little bit and what i found thoroughly creeped me out.

this guy is probably in his 60's but almost all of his photos are of him with college age guys. um, can you say weird? in lots of his photos he's drinking and apparently "hanging" with these college students. he also appears to update his status all the time...what type of old man does that? what's up with this guy?

i checked to see what friends we have in common and i was surprised to see that we have several...there are many other concordia students who are friends with this guy. i then proceded to ask a few of them if they knew who he was..not one of them could give me a satisfying answer.

so i decided to ask this guy via email how we knew each other. i didn't want to come off as rude in case if he was some type of scholarship donor or something, but judging from his photos i'd definitely reject that possibility. so now i'm just waiting for a response. if i don't get one by tomorrow some time you can bet i will be deleting and blocking him from my facebook account for good.

now i hate to scream "pedophile" too soon but....WATCH OUT! THIS GUY MIGHT BE A PERVERT!

-cms-

"The end is built into the beginning..."

I am finishing up watching the film Synecdoche, New York, it shows how the life of a director becomes caught up, enmeshed, and a part of the play he is directing. The line between 'reality' and 'play' become obviously blurred. I think it is the same way when we encounter a text (in the broadest sense: a play, novel, song, movie, person, etc). We see a part of ourselves in the text and thus our being is a microcosm of the text (the poetic device synecdoche come to mind here [ironically]) and at the same time a part of the text and at the same time apart from the text. This allows us a unique view on a text and on ourselves.

One of the most intriguing quotations is: "The end is built into the beginning" We see buildings built that are made to come down quickly. And I wonder if life is the same way. We are born and all we know is trust; we cannot do anything for ourself. And when we die it is the same way, because all the way to death we can only do one thing: trust. Trust we will take another breath. Trust that our words will be heard. Trust that for some cosmic reason we don't fall over dead. It is so built into us that we scarcely notice its presence. Since we never know when the end will be every moment is filled with trust, every moment is always a beginning.

Dustin

Burnout

Everyone reacts to stress differently, and because of this there is no single way to alleviate stress. Sure, there are techniques that have been developed to cope, but they don't work for everyone and even for those they do work for, these techniques will vary in how well they work with different individuals. Actually, there IS one way to eliminate stress that works for everyone, but it isn't always the simplest or the most viable: removing the stressor[s] in question.

I can handle stress well enough to a certain degree, usually when there are only a couple stressful factors and they aren't that pressing [at least in my mind]. However, important matters that build upon one another will send me spiraling down quick. At first I'll be frustrated and edgy, but the way I function doesn't really change much. Once the stress settles in for the long haul, I become apathetic and just look for the quickest viable way to get rid of it. Lately, this has meant rethinking my educational and career goals for the next five to ten years. That actually has added new stress to the old stress thats been hanging around my mind, but its stress I can handle a lot easier than the stressor I'm fighting with now.

I know I'm being vague, but that's because my last blog covered most of the details. This is just kind of a foreword for it that didn't get written until after the last blog [if that makes sense].

-Josh

Paper #3, English Major

So I'm writing paper #3 about being an English major. It's becoming increasingly long. I'm actually quite surprised. Most of my inspiration is coming from Garrison Keillor and finding random big and important sounding words online. It should be interesting but I seriously hope people tear it apart. I'm actually somewhat excited about the large group thing. There are other English majors in the class and I'm aware this paper totally sucks so I'm hoping it dies a hard and painful death. I've felt that way about a lot of papers I've written lately. Oh well, the semester is almost over.
Next semester will be awesome. I don't start on Monday/Wed/Fri til 2:10. Yay! and then night class on Mondays. Tuesdays might suck cause I have 4 classes. I'm just confused. I met up with my advisor and then Ed from the registrars office - he's pretty much awesome - and we figured it out. I have to take 2 more English classes and then 1 more Sociology class to get my major in English and minor is Sociology. Everything else is electives. I have to take 31 more credits. So I'm bad at math but that leaves me with what like 22 more credits? I'll take GS 401, that'll take care of 3 more so I have 19 credits to fill with electives. I don't want to take electives! What kind of electives should I even take? So I filled up the extra stuff with random psych classes even though I really don't care that much about psych classes. I'm just confused about life and writing the 3rd paper about being an English major isn't helping. It just points out that if you're not getting a major in English to teach it then you really have no other purpose in doing it. I don't want to teach! And seriously, majoring in English is making me hate reading and writing. Ugh. Oh well, no early class tomorrow, yay for Thurber! So I'm sleeping in or I'm staying home tonight and will drive back there tomorrow at noon.
-CK

Impatience

Right now I am super impatient for the future.
It's around this time of year that I get really sick of the weather getting below freezing, because I just want it to be warm enough for me to plant the garden. And I have this yearning anxiety to dig in the dirt, pulling up weeds and putting in new plants, to get the dark, rich earth stuck beneath my fingernails. When I hold up my hands and see fingernails with black tips, I know that spring has truly arrived.
But it's also for graduation. I am a little sad to leave Concordia and all my friends, as this place has had a wonderful impact on my life. But I am so eager to start vet school I can hardly contain myself. I am absolutely sure that when I start school and have all the hard classes and homework, I will be wishing it was still summer . But I am totally ready to move on with my life right now. I guess I have quite a case of senioritis, only I'm not looking forward to time off of school I'm looking forward to more school. Bring it on!!
~Jessica

Making up for lost time...

I have to write three posts in a row because I have quit doing homework and am insanely behind in this class. Senioritis is catching up to me in a bad way.

I'm hoping this post might be long/awesome enough to make up for missing two.

Anyway, I'd like to share a little about my Spring Break this year. I drove down to southern Florida with Emily to stay at my grandpa's condo with him and his wife Phyllis.

My grandpa is such an interesting character. He's old (obviously), has a potty mouth, and is VERY funny. I think he's also a little racist. Or very racist.

This was the greatest week of my year so far. Emily and I lived like retired people in 21-year-old bodies. We went to farmers' markets, ate fresh fruit and veggies every day with homemade meals cooked by Phyllis. We ate ice cream almost every day. We laid on the beach, sunning ourselves with all the old men in Speedos. We sat by and swam in the pools adjacent to the condos with all the old people staying there for "the season".

The first full day we were there, we went out with Grandpa, Phyllis, one of my grandpa's brothers and his wife. My great uncle Dan informed us that the old people are called "Opes" and that old people who can use handicapped parking (like my grandpa because of his lung-issues) are called "Crispy Critters".

One of the first few days we were in Florida with Billis (our combined name for Bill and Phyllis), they took us to a flea market of sorts. It was indoors and lovely. They even had 15-minute tooth-whitening. We knew we were in for a good week when Grandpa said that he asked the man at the tooth-whitening booth if he could just leave his teeth and come back. "They're like stars. They come out at night!" he said of his dentures. I think he creeped the tooth-whitening guy out. Emily and I were amused.

My grandpa is addicted to Wal-Mart. He never lives very far from one and usually makes a trip a day, unless he doesn't leave the house. Even Phyllis has fallen for Wal-Mart. She told Emily and me that she got a haircut at Wal-Mart and that it was the best haircut of her life. Bill's comment on Wal-Mart was: "This is better than land-ho--it's Wal-Mart ho!"

Bill is also addicted to hard candies...or candy in general. He used to smoke for most of his life. He quit when I was a kid and ever since I think he's been addicted to sucking on candy instead of cigarettes. However, a new development in this addiction is a certain kind of cough drops. When Phyllis brought this up, Bill's witty argument included the phrase "You go to your church and I'll go to mine!" They argued over the addiction, Phyllis calling him out, "You see?! He's addicted!" with Bill replying, "I'm really cutting back." We learned not to mention his addiction again because he could argue you to death and could not see any harm in eating cough drops when he wasn't sick. I guess he coughs more than a normal non-sick person because of his lung cancer...so maybe we'll give it to him. :)

Bill and Phyllis liked to give us lots of life advice. I think that when you hit a certain age, or are just older than someone else, you really feel that you have a right to dispense all your worldly knowledge on the younguns. Bill's wisedom included the following:
--"Summer only comes once a year!!"
--"Better not have any ice cream... might have a stroke!!"
--"SHIT HAPPENS!" (This was actually in reference to the fact that he went out in public without rubbing in all the sunscreen he put on his face and Phyllis getting on his case.)
--"Wanna stop biting your nails? Put some horse shit on them!!!"
--"Modesty is Godliness..." (We had a hard time believing this one because right after he said it, he shrugged his shoulders like he didn't really know what he was saying.)
--"If you can climb 300 feet in the air and carry a pack on your back THEN you are set for life." (This was in reference about getting work with a wind turbine company.)
--"So many pitfalls in life... you just gotta take them one at a time." (This wisedom nugget came after he didn't get a nap all day.)
--After watching a commercial about prostate problems, and having a discussion about the fact that I don't have a prostate, Bill said "If you DO have one, you can make some money! Lots of opportunities there!"

Grandpa also likes to insult people. Most of the insults come while he's driving. He's a scary driver. When he gets behind the wheel, you just have to pray that your seatbelt works and that he won't make anyone too mad. While we were watching tons of political television in the afternoons and early evenings every day, Bill commented on a speech given by President Obama. Obama stuttered a little bit while talking and Grandpa yells at the TV, "STOP STUTTERING YOU SONOFABITCH! When he starts stuttering you know it's all going down the shitter." He told Emily and me that Marco Islanders have "as many manners as an alleycat." Phyllis and Sophie (Dan's wife) said that when the two are together, they make life for waiters and other service workers hell. Sometimes they can't show their faces together at a restaurant after they go together. Dan said that he just says to Bill, "I have plenty of friends. I don't need any more, do you?" And Bill will say, "No. I just want my food." when a waiter tries to make small talk with the Foley men.

Something my grandpa and I have in common is our need for food. If we get hungry, we get cranky and angry. When we eat, we scarf before it's gone. We love food and get sad if we're too full to enjoy something that's still available.

When Bill is offended, he comes up with great phrases to communicate his true feelings. An example: "You trying to confuse me!? Get your calendar out chief! You're talking to the man who runs stuff!" This was directed to one of his brothers over the phone. My favorite example is: "I'm like a wounded elephant!!!" He said this after he told me that I left my breakfast bowl on the table and he had to take care of it. The man is a tad dramatic. :)

Bill is really good at quoting other people, though we usually don't know what he's talking about. One example of this is when he was talking about something Phyllis' aunt once said: "'You get back up there or I'll lick you!' That snot didn't have a prayer. She had a tissue AND a tongue!"

This trip to Naples over Spring Break has made me realize that it might be fun to be an old person. You can say what you want, chill all day. Watch some TV, go to bed early. Maybe watch some great National Geographic VHSs, read in the living room or sunroom all day. It's a good life.

Spring Cleaning

With Windex in one hand and 409 in the other, I was armed and prepared.  My roommate went on A Cappella tour, leaving me with a messy, but empty room, one in need of some Spring cleaning.  I try to keep the room in somewhat of a clean state, but with the end of the year approaching and the projects beginning to pile up, having a clean room became a back-burner issue.  Clothes were scattered on the floor, dust had collected in every place, and the bathroom was considered a disaster zone.  

I attacked the room with ferocity.  I sweept under the bed, in the closet, under the desk.  I wiped down every service, i organized all the shelves, and i did all the laundry that had pilled up.  And three hours later I collapsed on the crumb free futon and breathed in the scent of clean linen Fabreeze.  It was finished.  

There's a sense of satisfaction in looking around and seeing everything in it's place.  But at the same time, sitting here alone in my room, it looks a little empty now, having a not lived in feeling to it.  Like this is the show room they bring potential students to see.  Spring cleaning is a good thing to do once in a while and I'm glad I did it, but i think i'm going to go throw some clothes on the ground.  Maybe that will make it feel right in here.

A job...

So, on Thursday afternoon I had a job interview with Concordia Publishing House. First of all, this is the job that I have wanted since about January. I first saw the ad and thought it sounded perfect, but it called for 2-3 years of experience. I didn't figure it was worth apply for because I wouldn't have a chance at getting. Then Dr. Gernant recommended that I apply for the job anyway, so I did. When they called I was ecstatic. So, on Thursday I had my interview and it went really well! I hoped with all hope that I would at the very least get a face to face interview. So, when I woke up on Friday and found an email waiting in my inbox saying that my interview was excellent and they wanted a second interview, I basically jumped up and down for 30 minutes.

Now, I am coming to the realization that 1) I have an interview and 2) I have a distinct chance at actually getting this job that I was so covetous of. This opens up a whole lot of new fears and questions. The biggest fear: what if I don't get the job? The second biggest fear: what if I do? If I don't... what will I do? There aren't many other options presenting themselves right now. Plus, I really really really want this job. And what if I do get the job? I will have to move to St. Louis! That's so scary. I have lived in NE for, well, ever.

It's so scary. But, I am praying and preparing for this job interview so hard. I want it despite how scary it is. Which must mean it is worth it. I have always felt that anything worth doing isn't going to be easy. This wouldn't be easy... but it would be so fun and so worth it. I can NOT wait for my interview and I cannot wait to find out how it goes!!

The real in reality.

I'm a big fan of reality tv. I love the drama and everything that goes into but there are some shows that I just do not understand. The shows like, "rock of love" or "tila tequila," and even "the bachelor." These shows where people claim they are honestly trying to find love..um, ok? If you can't find someone in real life, what makes you think you will actually find someone on a television show that isn't in it just for the fame and glory? The people on these shows are crazy and the idea behind them is even worse. As much as I enjoy a good reality show, hardly anything on reality tv is actually real.

SRH

A few things to ponder...

There's a difference between saying things are okay and things actually being okay.

It's taken me awhile, but I've realized my family is not perfect.

The world is black and white; people blur the lines to make it gray.

Friendliness does not = friends.

I spent my 21st birthday in bed, sick--and that really was okay.

Facebook really is just a stylized way to stalk people.

You can fool your mind, but you can't fool your body.

True friends are more difficult to come by then you realize.

-AEM

I Can Tell By His Stutter...

I can tell by his stutter that I intimidate him. I know this is going to make me sound terrible, but here it goes anyways. One of my former co-workers at the movie theater I worked at the last few summers has a stutter. He's a really friendly, conversational guy so I feel bad for him that he has to struggle with this impediment. His stutter tends to get really bad when he's nervous or anxious.

When I return to the theater to see a movie I frequently see him there working so I usually talk with him for awhile. I've noticed that when he talks to me his stutter becomes increasingly more obvious. He gets to the point where the conversation literally comes to a stand still because his stammering won't allow words to continue flowing from his mouth. I stand there, pretending that I don't notice. I smile and continue to nod my head in understanding. I think to myself, "I think he must get nervous around me." This never happens! Do I intimidate him? And I noticed it doesn't get bad around everyone. Once, while standing in his line he was speaking with a customer perfectly fine, but as soon as he started to talk to me the stutter became obvious. I guess I am a senior in college and he's a senior in high school so it might seem like a big deal to him that I'm talking to him. However, while working together, age never really seemed to matter.

So here's the bad part. I truly have sympathy for this kid, I do. However, I must admit, I get a little ego boost every time his stutter pops up in our conversation because I know he's anxious. My confidence gets a boost knowing that a high school kid is intimidated by me. I know, I'm pathetic and for that I apologize. This is simply an observation that I found intriguing.

Carson

Questioning Where To Go In Life

Lately I've been contemplating my career path. When I graduated high school, I could think of nothing else to do with my life than become a pastor. The amount of support and advice I've received, especially from my home congregation, was almost overwhelming. Once you announce your intent of becoming a man of the cloth, you become a sort of celebrity in their eyes. People I didn't know, never even spoke to, all of a sudden knew my name and wanted to speak with me on friendly terms. Had I pursued any other path, I'm certain I would've remained nothing more than a blip on their radars.

I was confident of my ability and determination then. When I decided that God was calling me into the ministry, I had no clue how long I'd have to study for it, what all I would have to go through for it, and what trials lay before me during the process. Once I discovered the length of time I would be required to study and part of what I would have to go through in those years, I remained determined. High school hadn't prepared me for this path, and neither did my community college the few months I spent there. How could they? Both were secular schools, and in the four years I spent at my high school I had no idea I would feel that moved to go into the ministry. I hadn't the time to prepare myself for it, not when I was expected to immediately thrust myself into college once I had that high school diploma in hand.

Truth is, I never had any idea what I wanted to do with my life until a month before I graduated from Shawnee Mission North. Before that, I was enrolled at UNL to major in advertising, which I am more than certain now that I would have dropped that major after a semester. My parents had it put into my mind from the moment I could comprehend the communication process that I was going to college and there was no two ways about it. They never guided me in any direction as to what I should do, though. The only guidance they gave me was what they didn't want me to do. My mother always told me that her and my father suffered their government jobs just so I could have a career different from theirs. If either one didn't respect a certain career path, they would shoot the idea down the moment I suggested it. I had to go to college, but they'd be damned if I didn't do something practical.

I felt inspired by God to become a pastor a little over a month before I was to graduate high school. I couldn't bring myself to actually speak to my parents about it because they would lose part of the deposit they had already paid to UNL and it wasn't a practical career path financially. I wrote my mother a note, and while she was actually very pleased about it, I told her that she should tell my father. Days later he told me to keep my mind open to other career paths, that I shouldn't be set in this one quite yet. To this day he has never shown any support of my path into the ministry. I think he's just glad that I'm in college.

I haven't questioned my path into ministry until this semester...not seriously, at least. I've just forged blindly ahead, determined to show that a guy like me was just as worthy of the job as any other guy in the pre-seminary program. My first two years in college, I kept a very respectable GPA and suffered few blows to my determination. Once my junior year began this last Fall, all that changed. In the first month, an uncle, a neighbor, and my one surviving grandfather all died. Depression set in, and my grades reflected it. However, I was determined that I would use the winter break to rejuvinate myself and that I would come back with a positive outlook and the determination to push on. I did, but it lasted only a short while. My productivity outside the classroom is practically non-existent, unless it involves theater. Since this will obviously lead to low grades, my stress level and frustration with myself is at an all time high. I've lost sight of my career goal and all I can see are the classes and the five more years I have to fight through to reach that goal.

I still believe that I God had called me into the ministry three years ago, but what I do question now is my ability to survive the rest of the process. Hell, I'm barely afloat now. I'm sick of the education process. I'm sick of the stress that I can't handle and therefore ignore so I don't become a nervous wreck. After the trainwreck that was my last Hebrew test, I began seriously contemplating leaving Concordia so I could have time to explore what I should do with my life. I'm 21....nearly 22....and I have less of an idea what I want to do in life than what I did at 18.

What's keeping me here is how close I am to my bachelor's degree in communications [with the emphasis in performance arts, no less]. I am one class away from securing that degree. I've come too far to come away with nothing. What's questionable now is whether or not I stick with the pre-seminary program. I am doing well in Greek, or well enough, anyways. Hebrew will be the deciding factor whether my path in pre-sem ends soon or continues on. If I pass this semester, I will continue on. If I fail, I'll drop the program. Unless I want to spend a whole extra year as a part-time student just for Hebrew, failing it now will be the nail in the coffin. I still wouldn't rule out the seminary. It would definitely be an option later on in life. I just wouldn't be on the fast track there anymore.

There are only two things that frighten me about the idea of dropping the pre-sem program. For starters, I have no idea what I would do with a degree in communications that wouldn't feel like slow death. Secondly, I don't know how to tell my parents that I'm even thinking about it. All they see is the financial investment they've put in and how impractical it would be for me to change paths now. Their philosophy [or at least my mother's...my father has never made his philosophy clear to me] is to just suck it up and push on. She has found a way to ignore stress, frustration, and any other emotions that slow a typical person down...she can, and will, forge ahead. I managed to do that before I came to college, but I can't handle it any longer. As alike as my parents and I are on the exterior, on the interior we couldn't be much more different. That's caused much of my stress and frustration in the last few years, which is a whole new story to tell some other time.

I'm tired. Confused. Stressed. Frustrated. Sick of all the shit I've had to drag myself through. I just want to live life again. I want to just worry about getting to work each day, doing my job to deserve the paycheck at the end of the week to pay the bills, and enjoy people. I miss enjoying people. There's too much solidarity in college and I want out.

-Josh

WOW

If you’ve ever watched the WE channel, then you’ve probably seen one of their more popular shows, “Platinum Weddings.”.”  If you haven’t I’ll give you the run down.  A couple drops around half a million dollars to have the wedding of their dreams.  The television audience is there when they pick out the cake for the wedding, the venue, the dress and all other accessories.  And as this couple hands over more money for one day then most people make in a lifetime, the audience gets to “ohh” and “ahh” or gag depending on their point of view. 

They sip on 34’ Champaign, have meals crafted form some of the finest chefs, and throw back custom drinks while made at an ice bar.  Their reception hall has several kinds of lighting, LED dance floors, and some even go all the way and have a fireworks display.  I can only sit here with my mouth wide open during this whole ordeal amazed at the detail and the amount of time and effort people put into these extravaganzas. 

If you have the money to put on that kind of event and that’s where you want to spend it all then that’s great…I just ask that you remember me when filling out the invitations. 

 

AEU

love has really strong forearms

Physical strength is often most illustrious in the muscles and veins of a body builder, whose bi, tri, and quadriceps bulge beyound normalcy. Rarely is strength noticed in the smooth, flat shape of the forearm.

Have you ever been caught in the grip of someone with powerful forearms? Trying to break free is not only useless, it's painful.

Power in this form is quiet, not prominent or boastful in any way. But undeniably strong.

There is love with really strong forearms and I'm done trying to escape it.

KEW

Why I Write

Someone asked me why a college girl would write. Maybe I should stick to partying and exploiting myself, sleeping in and working out when I need to, wearing sweats to class and heels to the house party and write but only for homework, only so I can blend with the bland apathetic pack of hung over wastes . 

One day I met a girl who told me whenever she was in a group of males she felt she couldn't get a word in. She was intimidated and feared sharing her opinions. She still had opinions, even if they weren't heard.

I saw another young girl on television. Her bony body perplexed phD Phil and he literally listed reasons why the worried controlling couple's kid was starving herself. The youth had no say in her life. She didn't get to make the choices in this parent dictatorship. She wasn't heard. She had opinions but they weren't heard.

I sat in class with the pompous teacher. The one with fancy degrees and a mywayorthehighway manner. I had opinions on the matters he placed in front of me. I was not heard.

When I write, you don't see age. When I write, my gender will not be so apparent. When I write I have control. Did you ask me why a college girl writes? I think it's because I have a story. I think it's because I have opinions.

Hannah

Quotes

I always see that Virginia Woolf quote appear when I log into this blog.

It's a very nice sounding quote, don't get me wrong. But, the more I think about it, the more I doubt she was the first one to say that. She was just the first to make the idea sound nice.

I wonder how many times one of us, an ordinary person, says something profound that never appears as the theme for a blog or as the quote of the day on a website.

Props to Virginia Woolf for getting published, but what about all of the more meaningful quotes out there that have gone unpublished - that have gone unheard - all because we're not yet published authors? I think that is the true "submerged truth."

---AB