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

Storm Mood

A cool breeze brushes past my face and dances in my hair. Drops of rain are falling in nonspecific patterns along the sidewalk. Hidden under the sweet sour smell of Milford's feedlot, the wind carries another smell, one so familiar and distinct and yet you have to stop and think to place it.

It is the smell of the ground unthawing, a shift in the wind, trees budding: spring.

The best part is still to come, following the arrival of this season of change, the clouds and the weather man are foretelling its arrival: a storm. They better not let me down. I could use a good storm. The intense build up of electric charges and tension in the air are exciting. I used to hate storms when I was younger but I have sense gotten over that fear and have developed a liking for them.

I can't wait to hear that roll of thunder that seems to linger in the distance, anticipation building from within. Sometimes this buildup brings false hope and empty promises while the storm remains distant. You almost give up hope. All of a sudden it is upon you, swooping down, taking you by surprise. The wind blows, rain beats against the rattling windows, and lightening bolts light up the sky. The feelings this meteorological phenomenon evokes are liberating, a symbol of mother nature letting go of built up anger. I empathize with her and in doing so release some of my own emotionally charged build up along the way.

I hope we get one soon... I am in the mood for that rush.

RW

Searching

Searching for wellness, searching for something to write about, searching for the motivation to continue doing work for the rest of the semester. I know I haven't found it, but maybe I will find it soon. I am tired, oh so tired. I hope there is more here than meets the eye.

Dustin

The State of Things

I've been a mess lately; letting stress seep into my senses. It immobilizes me to the point that all I do is sit in front of my computer, worried about how much I have to do: homework, projects, graduation announcements, job searching, and the list goes on. Such is my state that I have no clue what to do now.
This position leaves me awkwardly empty. I'm trying to keep up with it all, but nothing comes; therefore, nothing goes. I eat, sleep--which has also become disoriented--and go to class. The state that I've gotten myself into is no better than all the panic attacks I had before I became "well." At least then I had a purpose for it and ended up in the hospital.
Now what I've got are relapsing short-term memory problems, insecurity because of my memory and the feeling that if I don't get these sorted (and soon) that I'll burst.


Becca

Close to perfect.

It's Sunday. This is NASCAR day in the Barlean household. I am sitting in my living room in David City, NE appreciating the newness of the painted walls and feeling like a guest. My father lays on the dark brown leather couch, snoring. His thunderous snores reach all the way across the room and I wonder how my mom and brother put up with this. I know that it is annoying me. I can't say anything though. I don't live here. My mom is on Facebook. I know because she keeps mentioning things about my friends that I already know. She is a stalker, it is kind of cute but mostly annoying. My brother is watching YouTube videos I'm pretty sure. Though we all are silent, listening to the NASCAR race, we are together. And it is nice. I don't get to experience this very often. Now, Sunday NASCAR days involve the three of them, but not me. I am not here. I am out trying to be a grown up. When I was in high school... I would have thought that this day was pointless. I would have thought that we should have used it better. Played a game. But... now... I think that this relaxing, moment together is pretty close to perfect.

Back to the busy-ness

I've experienced one week my whole college career where I've had too much time on my hands. Now that I am done with basketball the days go by much slower. I started a yoga video and my lower back and rear are sore. I tried jogging but it's just so boring; I prefer to walk.
Yet, tomorrow morning that free time will once again be taken away from me. I will rise at 4 in the morning to begin a job until I move to a new place and leave Seward behind. I will rise at 4 to begin working at a little place called the Bakery. I am so excited. I doubt I will be saying that tomorrow.

WAS

Outside.

It's really hard for me to have the motivation to sit at my computer doing homework when it's so nice outside... :)

Cherry Tree

For some reason, I have found myself thinking about the cherry tree in the backyard of our house in Colorado. I've been gone almost four years, and I wonder what it is like now. Is it even still alive, or has it succumbed to old age?
I loved that tree. It was easy to climb, and so all us kids climbed it. I got so good that I would scale the branches in bare feet, a few times in a skirt (good thing the tree was in the backyard). The branches were arranged just right so that we could climb up and sit. So there were many times I brought a book into the tree with me and would sit there reading.
And of course, the cherries. These weren't the kind of cherries just picked off and eaten, although we did that, too. These were sour cherries, the ones for baking pies and cherry crisp. It was always amazing to me how the tree could make so many cherries. We never harvested them all, because the birds inevitably were the only harvesters that could reach the highest branches. There was one year, however, when we had the largest crop of cherries ever. Some robins had built a nest in our cherry tree and defended it against any other birds. They took their fill and we got the rest.
The process of pitting cherries is probably one of the most tedious I have ever experienced. When your parents set you down in a chair and say that you will be helping, there isn't really any way of getting out of it. As I got older, though, I could imagine the cherries being made into pies and desserts and that somehow made it more bearable.
So now, I am feeling this longing to pick cherries again, to feel the bark of the tree beneath my fingers. I can still see the oval shape of the leaves and their serrated edges, the small slivers of curly peeling bark, the fragrant white flowers. Someday when I have my own house, I will have my own orchard including, of course, a cherry tree... maybe two... or maybe three.
~Jessica

Reception

We were in Lincoln. You would think that there would not be a place in the city that cell phone reception for all three of our phones would vanish. Of course, the hotel we chose was the one black hole of cell phone bars. Not even the littlest peak wavered up and down. Nothing.
So when we came to my dorm room this morning and found two messages on the room phone and four missed calls on my cell phone I wasn't surprised. Not being able to get hold of my two brothers visiting or myself until after noon today I knew my parents were worried. My dad's worry would be light, practically considering all the reasons our phones would all be out. My mom however, amidst worried laughs admitted picturing us mugged and stuffed into a car trunk. Although I tease her about her worries, I understand. Losing three of four children at once would be beyond endurance. And I can sympathize, because every time my family is together without me, I worry. I panic that they will all be in a car wreck together and leave me alone. I worry that someone will break into the house and murder them. I've always had too much of an imagination. There's truth behind the fear, though, and learning to balance, to not let it overwhelm is hard.

Hot-Tubbing, English Majors, Jeff Foxworthy and Play practice

So my sister is officially moved in to their new house in Seward...okay so they still have boxes that aren't unpacked but close enough, and now she keeps insisting I go over there and hot-tub with them, which would be fine if I actually had free time. This past week I had 3 papers due, a take-home test and a presentation. There wasn't a night that I went to bed before 2AM. Thursday I was up 'til 6. Mass craziness! Do any of you feel this way being English majors? I feel overloaded by all the reading and writing all the time. It gets boring and that sucks cause I used to love to read and write. Now it's like a chore and I don't like it.
Anyway, I'm writing my 3rd paper on being an English major. So far it's very Jeff Foxworthy,
- If you use Shakespeare’s words as a guide to your life...you may be an English major.
- If you are constantly correcting people’s grammar in a public setting...you may be an English major.
I have about 12 of those and while that is all good great grand and wonderful I'm completely stuck. My muse seems to have ran away. Perhaps I expect too much of her. Hopefully she'll be back soon. Since I was stuck and it was stop-and-go writing I moved on to the myths of being an English major. I only have about 7 of these.
- All English majors spend time reading books and drinking coffee in a coffee shop.
- False, not all of us like coffee, some of us prefer green tea.
But anyway, I have writer's block so if any of you guys have any ideas they will be welcomed!
Play practice with my kids is going well. We're going to be out of our books this week...or we better be cause we're running out of time. The play is May 3rd but they have a week off for Easter and then track meets and a field trip plus excluding weekends that's like 24 days...And I'm only out there like twice a week. We'll have to hit it hard these next few weeks.
That's all for now. I'm gonna relax before heading back to dodge.
-CK

What lays ahead

The future stresses me out. I have been frantically scrambling for weeks now, trying to find the perfect summer internship. I pray that God would lead me to where he wants me to be and have faith that he will provide, but my patience is running low. Patience is not my forte, it's quite the opposite in fact. I'm not good when dealing with uncertainty. I need to know what lays ahead. Ahh..the seemingly hopeless search continues...

My Home

I'm not sure if home is a place. For me, it's more of a feeling of right-ness, of happiness, of contentment.

My "home," the place where my parents and sisters live--is not my home anymore. I used to live there, it used to be my house--but it's not home.

Returning from spring break last night, seeing my boyfriend at the airport to pick me up--that was my home. It felt right. I was happy, I was content... and I knew everything would be all right.

Home

I slipped into my parents' room and let my eyes adjust to the dark before leaning down to where my mother laid and waking her with a hug. My dad was already up and I succumbed to the temptation of laying on his side of the bed. I placed my head between my mom's shoulder and cheek and laid there, unable to sleep. Unable to be content as the time until I needed to leave ticked away. Laying beside my mother drags my childish feelings and wants out of my core. I don't want to leave home, I want to sob and unreasonable fear seizes me. I love home.

Driving through the mountains, dusk

Night began her descent, like a curtain drawn closed in slow motion across the sky. She felt heavy on our faces as we drove.

We sang along with the radio, with the soft, moon-laced tones our speeches possess in the night, our voices silver once darkness has perched upon our lips.

I was in the mountains for the first time this past week and it was breathtaking. I want to go back.

Worship Observation

Okay, I don't mean to offend anybody by this post, but it was just something I observed today. I attended a non-denominational church this morning...this was a first time experience for me. Their service certainly had characteristics that were different from the type of worship I'm used to, but I just rolled with the punches.

Their service was very contemporary and included a band, clapping, frequent "Amen's" and "Hallelujah's", and a separate service for the children. Okay, so this is what I observed. Many people in the congregation were praising God with their hands held high in the air (which by the way is perfectly fine). These people appeared to be heavily caught up in the music and were swaying quite a bit. The funny thing was that as I glanced around the church at these people I noticed that the people they were with were standing rigid. The spouses of these hand-raisers almost seemed to be trying to appear unassociated with these people. A woman in front of me had her hands raised high, swaying to and fro, while frequently shouting "Amen," but her husband stood stiffly next to her looking off to the side. He seemed to be saying, "I don't have a clue who this woman standing next to me is?" This same situation could be seen throughout the church...I couldn't help but laugh to myself.

So that's my Sunday morning observation...again, I hope I didn't offend anybody.

Carson

Benchmark... complete

I got to be a nerd this weekend. I listened and analyzed research that others had spent countless hours preparing and then in turn had others do the same to me. Intellectually stimulating conversation, people conversing about new ideas, making suggestions about how a study could be improved. I sat back and soaked it all in. Realizing that this was my last chance to be in an environment like this. I'll be graduating soon and may not get to attend another conference in my field of study, or get another chance to present my very own research again.

And now it is done.

I have gone through and now am familiar with the process of completing a study, APA paper etc. I know the difference between dependent and independent variables, qualitative and quantitative, now if those darn statistics only made sense to me! The point is I am mourning in a way. Mourning the completion of a part of my college career. This was a huge milestone, a benchmark leading me to that cap and gown, crossing that stage. And now I'm done. This brings me one step closer. I remember looking forward to this day, about a year ago, wishing I was already done with my research. I didn't want to have to write chapters 4 and 5... now I am there, wishing that those chapters were not yet written.

RW

Georgia on my mind...

I've got Georgia on my mind.

Actually, I have Georgia and Florida on my mind.

Let me back up. I have spent the last 10 days in Florida (and driving between there and here) on Spring Break. One word describes this trip: awesome. Now, let me tell you, the beach was awesome. Sunny, relaxing, and totally what this about-to-graduate senior needed. I loved every second of the trip. However, I don't want to talk about Florida. I expected Florida to be beautiful and amazing.

I did not, however, expect Georgia to be anything like it was. You know those horrible stereotypes that are so easy to give? I assigned one to Georgia many years ago. The stereotype was something like this: boonies. hillbillies. hicks. ugly. boring. never want to go there.

I found myself driving through Georgia on the way to Florida and being taken aback by its beauty. I mean, wow. It all started in Atlanta as we drove up to the city and exclaimed something along the lines of "where are we? this is beautiful!" I have never been so attracted to a city before. It was like emerald city, but more bluish than green. I immediately wanted to live there. This city, was possibly overshadowed by the beautiful surroundings. The rolling hills and lush vegetation was brilliant. I enjoyed every bit of it.

Returning to Nebraska was, for the first time in my life, a little bit of a let down.

Emily

Forgetfulness

I realize that I forget on several occasions to post for this class, so Spring BReak has somewhat allowed me to catch up.  I wonder where my forgetfulness comes from because I have come to believe that it is a hereditary trait.  It must be from my mother's side because my father is the least forgetful person I know.  It's ok though because although I lose things all the times I always manage to find them.  I tend to joke a lot that I'm catholic because the patron saint of finding things seems to like me a lot.  Allow an example.  I bought this amazing digital cameral my Senior year of high school.  It was pretty and pink and made this great noise when it turned on.  And then I lost it.

I should have freaked out but by this time I had excepted the fact that I lose things and that they eventually find them.  9 months later I did.  It was underneath my seat in my car, a place that I never look.  Unfortunately I never seem to remember to blog and there is no way to find it.  I guess I'll have to take a leaf out of my dad's book and start putting it down on a calendar.  But you know what would probably happen, I would lose the calendar.

Here is how it is.

As I sit here munching on nerds and thinking about how I gave up sweets for lent and as I try to count how many times I have slipped up I suddenly come to the obvious conclusion that I am extremely weak. I have prided myself on being "strong" my whole life. I can do more push-ups than any girl I know and I have been known to go on ten mile runs in dangerous weather. How can I not resist the notevenmyfavorite candy in front of me? Suddenly always searching for the quickest way out of homework makes me slow and stupid instead of strong, fast and clever. Suddenly my not keeping in touch with old friends reminds me that I am a weak and awful friend instead of a strong independent woman. How can I not resist one thousandth of all the food the good Lord has given us for 40 days and He can die on the cross and live a PERFECT life and I am a helpless cause. Thank you Jesus, for taking this weak sinful body I call my own, and forgiving it and loving it. 

I won't be seeing you

There are small pleasures in life that I find extremely pleasurable.  One is when you have an actual excuse for missing school.  Whether it be a sickness or a field trip, there is some joy in knowing that you are not where you are suppose to be.  I am suppose to be back at school right now.  I am suppose to be doing my laundry and preparing for Monday classes.  Instead I find myself typing at my computer with John and Kate Plus Eight in the background and in the state of Colorado.  

Yes, I will not be seeing you on monday.  Instead I will be swishing down the slopes of Winter Park.  Actually swishing is not the right word.  Crashing would probably be better due to the fact that I fall all the time.  If I come back with a broken leg now you won't be surprised.  

Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without

So there's been a lot of talk lately about some recession that's apparently happening? Just kidding, I do read the news and I am familiar with the financial situation. And I just thought the other day about how well-prepared I am for this thing, unlike some people in this nation may be.

You see, now there's this craze about being frugal. Strange why it was never that way before. Why is it that when something is in short supply we realize how much we took it for granted, how much we wasted it? Like how much we want rain in a drought, or how nice it would be for it to snow when it's been cold and dry all winter without a flake? And now, people are coming up short on money and wondering why they didn't spend it in a wiser way before.

Saving money in my family is like a game, a trick. Why buy the brand-name drug when the off-brand one has the same constituents for the same pain relief, yet at a cheaper price? Why go buy a new car from the carlot which will depreciate the moment you drive it off, when you can get a used one that lasts you for the next twelve years? Why buy the new outfit in the store when you can get it in a second-hand store cheaper and looking just as good after running it through the washing machine? Why go to the hairdresser when your mom can cut your hair for free? In fact, the way we've saved on everything my whole life, one might think there has been a recession throughout the whole of my lifetime and before that. Garage sales, thrift stores and hand-me-down clothes are just the beginning of my 'lifestory' of frugality. This is at least a third-generation lifestyle. With both sets of grandparents living through the Depression, and my parents being the children of such people, our style of saving every penny has continued for years.

The sad thing about this recession that we're having is that the people who really know how to survive it are almost gone. Those who lived through the Great Depression - making clothes out of flour sacks and standing in line for whatever minimum wage job they could find - they are almost all gone. My grandma lived through that time, on a farm in Iowa, when not only money was a problem but where the dust storms also raged. Somehow they were able to keep the farm. I think she is one of the people who will have the easiest times making it through this relatively minor (in comparison) recession. One of my favorite things she says is: "Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without." Times like this really remind us what the difference is in the definitions of 'wants' and 'needs.'

I think these times are going to help us remember what is of true value, teach us a little lesson about the consequences of materialism, and perhaps we will all emerge on the other end of this recession a little wiser about what really matters.

~Jessica

Abigail Marie Kimbrough

So I have a new niece, yay! And I shall call her Abby. Anyway, this makes 7 - 4 nieces, 3 nephews. My sister Cindy - the oldest (17 years older) has 2 kids, My brother Mark (15 years older) now has 3 and my sister Sarah (11 years older) has 2. Now everyone is looking at me. I work with kids on a daily basis however, I don't plan on having any of my own. I enjoy being able to hang out with them and play with them and then I get to send them home. I like being able to sleep at night and eat when I want and being on my own. People don't understand that. They say I'm good with kids and should be a teacher. I say, no kids, especially not now. I already have 13 to deal with.
I can't believe this week went by so fast. It's already Sunday! Today I get to finish my laundry and head back to Dodge. Ugh. I hate Dodge.
-CK

Illocutionary Existence

The only blog I pay attention to (other than this one of course) is: http://fish.blogs.nytimes.com/ Stanley Fish. After reading this weeks disquisition I was left wanting. I found the erudition on neoliberalism disengaging. I really didn't (and still don't) care about some meaningless label that always falls short of the object/person/policy it is applied to.

This got me thinking about how we perceive the existence of others. Obviously, we don't view others' existence in the same way we view our existence, let alone that we view someone's existence in the same way she does. For me, it seems the existence of others is validated through our speech. We say/think words to describe others; we label them. And by our words they come into existence. I mean, I am sure that on some existential level everyone 'exists,' but that person comes into existence or being for us at the moment we give words to describe them.

I guess there are a number of applications: I don't have the same 'labels' for objects that Stanley Fish does, therefore I don't really relate to, or have the ability to label something neoliberal. This also points to the importance of God being known to us in words. Jesus even asked his disciples in Mark 8:27 "Who do people say I am?" We label Him 'God' or 'Messiah' or a whole host of other names. Each points to a small portion of truth but neglects others. The closest thing we have to understanding God (IMHO) is from the accout of the Exodus where God refers to himself as 'I am.' We are still working out what 'I am' means.

Dustin

TV

Besides sports, I don't really get to watch a lot of TV. It seems like I don't have time or, at least, I say I don't. This week, beyond a few small assignments, I had virtually nothing to do for a couple of days on my Spring Break. The last time I watched TV avidly was in high school, namely my freshman and sophomore years.

I think it's pretty amazing what you find on TV these days. VH1 is pretty funny. Beyond "For the Love of Ray J", "Rock of Love", and "A Shot at Love", are there any other shows on that channel where normal people aren't trying to hook up with celebrities? It's also sort of funny to think that several of the celebrities are on their second and third seasons of the show, meaning that their rock of love crumbled, and that their shot at love quickly rimmed out.

Ok, and then, don't laugh...I was watching Dancing With the Stars and the last contestant is this girl who got dumped on the bachelor like three days earlier or something.

Wow.

It seemed like I couldn't get away from these people who think that they can find love through a TV show. I mean, even though the celebrities that they are pursuing are attractive, successful people, what's wrong with finding someone without the aid of some type of media - internet, phone, or TV. To me, those people are a little desperate. Any type of relationship that you could form through media seems very superficial anyways.

Now, I know upon meeting someone, the physique of the opposite sex is what we all see first. No one can argue that. But, usually when we are attracted to someone physically, we soon after meet that person...in person, we talk to them...in person, we laugh with them...in person - none of that overused lol cyber lingo. A relationship...in person...is real. We all know about the many online predators, married cheaters, and downright scum that exist in our cyber society today. Yet, why do so many take the risk in developing relationships with people who they have never seen or associated with...in person?

I guess that a "media relationship" is less pressure. You never have to face the person. And hey, if it doesn't work out, at least you don't have to deal with the in person break up. I think that these relationships are pretty sissy-esque. Even though a profile picture usually gives one a good idea of what the other looks like, a profile picture serves as a mask. A mask that tries to hide the true person behind the picture of you looking your best. The medium of communication - the computer, phone, etc. serves as a mask.

Online dating sites are said to bring people together. According to e-Harmony, everyone who joins their site is getting married soon after. e-Harmony is a joke. If I ever join that site, please punch me in the face. Seriuosly. My apologies if you, indeed, are a member, but if you are, let me ask you this: Why? Why do you feel that you need to resort to the Internet as your way to meet people? Do you feel incapable of meeting and developing a relationship with someone in person?

I wish someone could give me an honest answer. But until then, I'll make my hypothesis. I'll gander that these people are a little insecure, lacking self-confidence, and lonely.

That's the best Dr. Phil impersonation I'll ever do.

Look, I'm a little insecure, lacking self-confidence, and lonely too, but let's look at the positives. I have friends, Jesus loves me, and I get lucky enough to talk to an attractive woman every once in awhile. Now, I know some people aren't satisfied with that optimism. But I beg of those people, don't be satisfied with an online e-Harmony account where you occasionally get a message from a desperate, horny, less than average individual.

Be satisfied with being lonely, for now. Wait on the right person to come into your life...in reality - none of this virtual crap. There are about 6 billion people in this world. One of them is bound to cross your path eventually...in person.

---Austin

Using Language

I spent this weekend with my best friend and her family. Her three year old is one of the most vocal I've ever seen with complete sentences and utterly precious expressions. Conversations were fluent.

What amazed me most this weekend in these conversations was the consistency of this phrase: "What is the magic word?"

Of course, this three year old would always answer with "Please!"

The wordsmith inside of me kept thinking about this call and response and the use of the word "magic." Is part of our problem today that we, these generations of Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers watchers, have set apart politeness from common, ordinary language? Why does politeness have to imply magic? Why does it get a special place, separate from that of the rest of the words that we use?

It made me think about what is perpetuated when certain kinds of language are moved into a different space, outside of normal and everyday.

What a "Spring" break...

I came home for break - a much needed break. Last night when my Grandpa came over to do chores, he mentioned the weather was supposed to get bad, I attempted to tune that out. I somewhat pay attention to the weather, in Nebraska you almost have to try considering that one minute it can be sunny and nice and the next minute it is freezing and snowing. This morning, I got up to go to work at about 6:30 a.m. and noticed the nicely glazed deck and driveway, found out my Mom had a late start (she's a paraprofessional for 1st grade). Therefore, I decided I wasn't going to work until later, went back to bed for about half an hour until I heard three loud beeps. When I came out of my room, I found my mom scrounging to find a flashlight... we had lost power. By this time, neither of us could go back to sleep and my Dad needed electricity to finish milking the dairy cows. As he hooked up the generator, we watched them (my Dad and Grandpa) ice skate across the place - not joking, they couldn't take actual steps. My Dad would go for the grassy areas of the place since they weren't quite as slick. We watched the cars go by, thinking one of them may have been in our ditch at one time due to the amount of barking the dogs were doing. School was canceled, our lights came back on (we were without power for about two hours) and right now we're waiting for the electricity to go off again, not knowing when we'll get it back. The power lines are being weighed down quite heavily with ice right now and there definitely isn't any traffic. So I figured I better blog now... just in case we don't have electricity for a few days. I keep thinking back to when this happened in Omaha a few years ago and some people went weeks without electricity.... hoping that doesn't happen here!! See you all in a week!

Break

Why is it that when break is looming near by, every little bit of stress seems to be magnified? I don't have any more to do than usual, but each little assignment seems to be weighing me down and I can only focus on the freedom that I know is only a few days away. Procrastination increases, focus deteriorates, and I can't help but let my mind wander to the relaxation and endless basking in the sun that I know will be mine in only a few days. I can almost feel the sun rays beating down on my skin as I lounge poolside. Pretty soon it will be time to go shower and check out the tan lines that are forming. I'll have a nice dinner, perhaps seafood, and then get ready for an evening out on the town. No school. No stress. A full week of freedom. If it only it were here now...

SRH

Reunion

This weekend I felt old.  I got together with the girls who lived on my freshman hall, well at least those who are still at Concordia.  We looked back to that crazy time in our lives when we were all making adjustments and adapting to the college lifestyle.  We had some crazy things happen like a toilet exploding, causing a flood, a girl on our hall (who is no longer here) had several seizures, someone superglued a pop can to their hand (purposefully we think), ovens exploding, dressing up like homeless people, and the list can go on and on.  We even made a few phone calls to girls who have left, but with whom we still keep in contact.  

It is crazy to see how much we have changed, and grown apart with some and closer with others. 

One of the girls surprised us by bringing the golden toilet that we had used to raise funds for "Katrina Relief"... which made quite the impression on campus, let me tell you!  

Looking back isn't a bad thing, it can often be fun, just as our little reunion was.  It did however, make me realize how much time has gone by and how quickly.  I am not saying I would like to stay here, I know it is time for me to leave, to move on.  At the same time, a part of me wants to stay where it is safe, where I know people and I am familiar with how things work.  In just a matter of months I will leave this sanctuary and enter a new type of living, which makes a part of me want to run.

RW

Echoing

To 328:
One of the joys of teaching is feeling awe towards a group of people with whom you share learning space. I know, I feel, I understand how you've all done something "hard" with your essays this second time around. As I read through most of them yesterday, I found myself nodding and underlining and getting lost in good reading ways. I echo what some other of your colleagues have said -- that we've learned as we've shared in ways we didn't know we could.

The big sister in me wants to hug you and say thank you and tell you how proud I am for going "there," wherever there has been for you. It takes much risk and much vulnerability to try something new or to revisit something old. With this second round of essays, you've created a community of writers with every word, with every tear, with every powerful moment on that page. You remind me of the importance of risk, of the fear that blank page holds over us and the sigh it releases when filled. I thank you for the reminder. I thank you for the awe. It carries me today.

~LZH

Hard Stuff

I was in awe of the essays that I read this weekend. I think they have been so honest and true that the author's "truth" has been uncovered. Touching on these hard topics so eloquently has allowed me to see things in a new way. Not in a judgemental way, but in an honest with myself way. I want to tell the writers who wrote for the large workshops this week, great job! I am so inspired by your strength and courage. I laughed and cried with your stories!

Hannah

Meditation on Heaven

So this post is what I wanted to write last week, but didn't, in part because we had to write the alphabet post, and in part because I didn't know if I could write it at that time. But strangely, this writing thing isn't so bad, I'm actually (shockingly) beginning to really appreciate the art for myself. But don't take that too far... I still have a hardcore scientific writing style that can never be altered, even after several English Composition classes.

I went home last weekend, like every weekend, to do my laundry. But this time, it was different. The early morning and midday phone calls alerted us to the fact that my grandma had been in the hospital since Tuesday, and the afternoon phone call informed us that she passed away. It wasn't quite the way I had expected to spend my weekend, but it happened anyway. It was so strange, sitting in church last weekend, and the pastor prayed for us, the family in mourning. I realized, oh, yeah, that's our family. Weird, that's not supposed to be us.

I don't want to drag out any sympathy from you. I am still a little sad, but, as in the deaths I have previously experienced, I never dwell on them. I can't, because I know they are in heaven with the Savior. In fact, that makes me a little bit envious, because they get to be in heaven, sin-free and with God, while I have to continue on this earth.

There's a lot of stuff I'd still like to do with my life. I have the next four years to get my veterinary medicine doctorate, I'd like to get married and have kids, I'd love to travel, I'd love to go overseas on mission trips. But strangely, if I learned tomorrow that I had cancer, I think I could give all these up for the trip home to heaven. I get really excited when I think about going to vet school next fall, but the thought of heaven makes me even more joyful. Sometimes I just can't wait to get there. But apparently God still needs me on this earth, so I'll do whatever His will is in the meantime. It makes me think of that verse Paul wrote to the Philippians (1:21): "To live is Christ, to die is gain." I guess I'll just see what God's plan for me is as He unravels the future in front of me.

My grandma had an amazingly strong faith, one of the things that I really remember best about her, and often I wish I could have the same. Her confirmation verse was 1 Timothy 6:12: "Fight the good fight for the faith. Keep holding on to eternal life, to which you were called and about which you gave a good testimony in front of many witnesses." She really did that on earth, and she was faithful to Christ, and now lives in eternity, like Christ promises in Revelation 2:10: "Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you the crown of life." I guess that's what we all have to do until we reach our time to go to heaven. Life is not easy, but Christ has equipped us to fight sin, death, and the devil. And He plans to reward our faithfulness with the gift of eternity.

I thought about this today when I was in church, as we sang one of my favorite hymns. It made me think about death, about life, about how this world is challenging but there is no comparison to the future life. It covers everything that I believe, and nothing can have power over the triumph of Christ brought to us through baptism and faith. I'll leave you with the lyrics.

God's own child, I gladly say it: I am baptized into Christ!
He, because I could not pay it, Gave my full redemption price.
Do I need earth's treasure many?
I have one worth more than any
That brought me salvation free Lasting to eternity!

Sin, disturb my soul no longer: I am baptized into Christ!
I have comfort even stronger: Jesus' cleansing sacrifice.
Should a guilty conscience seize me
Since my Baptism did release me
In a dear forgiving flood, Sprinkling me with Jesus' blood?

Satan, hear this proclamation: I am baptized into Christ!
Drop your ugly accusation, I am not so soon enticed.
Now that to the font I've traveled,
All your might has come unraveled,
And, against your tyranny, God, my Lord, unites with me!

Death, you cannot end my gladness: I am baptized into Christ!
When I die, I leave all sadness To inherit paradise!
Though I lie in dust and ashes
Faith's assurance brightly flashes:
Baptism has the strength divine To make life immortal mine.

There is nothing worth comparing To this lifelong comfort sure!
Open-eyed my grave is staring: Even there I'll sleep secure.
Though my flesh awaits its raising,
Still my soul continues praising:
I am baptized into Christ; I'm a child of paradise!
(LSB 594)

~Jessica

In Mourning

I am currently in mourning. I went through my Facebook profile and deleted all the funny things off of it because I realized I have to be a grownup now. I am writing a story for the Sower about Facebook and how it can really impact your job search because employers occasionally search a job applicant’s web page and make judgments. Now, it is sad… I know some things look bad and I understand that part of growing up is being professional, etc. But my profile is just so boring now! It’s sad.

Mostly I will miss the quotes from my friends on my quotes page. I know some of them were mildly inappropriate, but I really liked them a lot. They made me happy because they were so funny. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to get judged because I thought something my friends said was funny, but still. So, in memorandum, here are a few quotes from my Facebook quotes page I will miss:

“I forgot how UGLY you were!!!” ---A common quote that Alicia says to me when I wear my glasses… don’t worry I started this.

“Don’t sweat the small stuff, everything is small stuff!... Unless you knock up a girl. Then you are out of luck.” ---Carson’s advice to me.

“OMG whose toothbrush is this!?!?!” ---Elaine, my roommate, while brushing her teeth…

“If we go to that Creek restaurant, I am wearing my corn shirt!!!” –my dad, very excitedly, while on vacation

“This is what 20 years of wearing glasses did to me… I think I’m invincible!” –Alicia, a new contact wearer, after poking herself in the eye.

There are so many more!!! And I can’t remember them…. Already!... luckily, I saved them in my room. ☺

you're the inspiration

Lately I have been thinking about where we get our inspiration. Sometimes it seems as if it comes to me all at once, a torrent ideas and emotions filling me until I must write or drown. At other times, it seems as though I have to crawl for every inch of ground I get in my essay. Each word is a battle struggling against a foe who is just a little bit stronger and a little bit quicker, yet somehow you manage to overpower the foe for just long enough to get the next word. Then: back to the same struggle.

I am not naive enough to think that all of us go through the exact same process when writing, but I am curious as to how we get the ideas we do. Do our experiences somehow push us toward certain writing, or do we put labels on our experiences?

Some would probably say it is a cop out but, I don't know that I have an answer for my dilemma, because sometimes it seems as though it is one way and sometimes the other. So Eng 328ers I am wondering where you fall on this certain issue. Perhaps as a group we can come to some sort of understanding. Perhaps we can encircle truth and gaze briefly upon its light.

Dustin

Phony Lightning

Okay, this is going to make me sound a little weird and crazy, but whatever. I live in Jonathan dorm and many times when I walk out the side door of the building (facing the west) I see a flash of light in the sky to the west. I don't know what it is, but it intrigues me.

The first few months of school I thought it was a flash of lightning. I always got really excited. A few times I even stood there for a minute or so...waiting to see more lightning. None came. I have always loved storms so after seeing this flash I would get excited in anticipation of the storm. However, I was always disappointed when no storm came rolling in.

At some point I came to realize that it was not lighting, but rather some type of reflection from the lights inside the dorm, bouncing off the glass of the door when I opened it, into the sky. I don't know how it works and I've tried to recreate this phenomenon, but it seems like it can be repeated in a short amount of time. For example, sometimes after this flash of light appears I go back inside and let the door shut. I then go back outside trying to recreate the flash, but it never works.

I'm only writing this because I saw the flash again last night. Every time it happens I get excited for a brief second, but then realize that it is not lightning, but rather some unexplainable phenomenon. Does anybody have any suggestions as to what it may be? Has anyone else seen it? Am I just crazy?

Carson

Spring Break

It's that long-awaited first break of the semester. The plans of finally catching up on homework and sleep have been occupying your thoughts when you are still awake at 3 a.m., just starting to read about gender theory. Even though it's merely a few hours until you must awake and drag your feet into class you must finish.

Or do you?

Wouldn't it just be nice to crawl into bed under the warm blankets and rest your weary head on a soft pillow and drift into gender-theory-free dreams? After all, you'll have more time come Saturday morning after a wondrous morning of sleeping until noon...

Or will you?

Unexpected Connections

I know this is my second post in a one-post period, but I feel its an important one to make concerning this class. LZH, feel free to count this one for next week, even though I'll probably do another one at the end of the week.

I like it when people take off their masks and reveal who they are, what they've gone through in life, and are true to themselves and me. This doesn't always lead me to like the person, and sometimes it makes me like the person even less because of how they tell their story. However, it allows me to connect with them on a level that makes me realize how alone we really aren't.

This came to my mind now because of a few essays written by some of my classmates I had to read for class today. Something I had to do became something I was glad to have done. I connected with each one of their essays, each one telling stories I could relate to on a very personal level. I shared something with all of them, people I've known for awhile but never really interacted with. After reading their essays, I wish I had gotten to know them better in the time I've known them...even become good friends with them. What was strange to me was that while all their topics dealt with family and self in some manner, they all had different issues that separated them...but I felt extremely connected with all of them because I had been through many of the same things. I won't name the people or issues for the sake of their privacy, and therefore I won't go into how I connected with them specifically. Their writings have inspired me to explore my own issues in writing soon. Honestly, I'd like to do it now, but other responsibilities concerning college life hold me back from it now. When I do, I will share it. I don't expect ya'll to read it all, or even any of it, but I need to tell it all in one piece and just knowing its out there for people to read will be therapeudic.

Its a good feeling when you find and appreciate the benefits of a class. I haven't really had that feeling in a very long time.

-Josh

Wild Wild West

This title has nothing to do with my blog. It's just the song I'm listening to. :)

I have conflicting feelings at the moment. They're about a lot of things, but the biggest conflict is time. I'm really excited about Spring Break now that I have awesome plans and money to fulfill these plans (in Florida!!) but it means that when we get back the semester is half over. Seeing as how I have no post-graduation plans and that I'm not ready to leave all my friends, I'm dreading it. The worst part, honestly, will be the fact that my friends will be all spread out. I'll still have quite a few staying at Concordia (either for a 5th year or because they're underclassmen), and the others graduating with me will be spreading out all over the world. I love having everyone within a 2 mile radius of where I live. I've come to appreciate small-town life--which I never thought would happen. I live in a bigger city and I always thought that was where I was meant to be--in the cities. After almost four years here, I've realized that it's the people that make it awesome. Who cares where you live as long as you have great people to be with?

I shouldn't be worried. I'm a social person. I make friends easily. Every year at Concordia I've made new friends and hung out with a huge variety of people. Even this year, I'm constantly making new friends and finding new people to be with. I just love my Concordia family more than anything in the world. And I'm afraid of losing contact with people here. I know that we can try to keep in touch. I'm pretty good and keeping relationships with people long-distance...but it never fails that our relationship just is never the same. We talk--but there are huge gaps between when we talk. We visit--but there are even bigger gaps between visits. It's not the same as living near each other and communicating constantly. The transition from high school/home to college was so easy. I was very scared then, though. I know I can survive this next transition. I just know that Concordia is the best place I've ever been/lived and why change something that's so great?

It's weird that I have these feelings. It makes me sound like I'm not ready to "grow up", and in a sense, I'm not. But I've been mature for most of my life. I'm the kid in my family who grew up the fastest and took care of my responsibilities. I feel like now I'm reverting. I want the carefree life of a teenager. I don't want a stuffy 9-5 job where I'm indoors, stuck under fluorescent lights all day, then I trudge back to my home to my cats, tired because of the lameness of my job. I want a life where I'm out and about all day, meeting people, building relationships, enjoying the beauty of the outdoors.

This is a topic I keep coming back to...but it's because it's the biggest thing in my life at the moment. What I'm failing to do and why this makes my stomach churn when I think about it is because I'm not putting it into God's hands. I always forget that he has a plan and he won't let my life become dull or utterly miserable if I follow His will.

But what in the world is his will?? Have I missed it already? How does he let me know what it is? Text messaging? Highly doubtful. What if I've already screwed it up because I've wasted any little talent that he gave me to strive toward my goals?? I should have tried harder at my academics in college. I should have focused more on my faith and building it up instead of ignoring it and doubting it. I should have had a job since freshman year and been saving so I'm not cast to the streets because I'm too poor upon graduation.

I shouldn't have been lazy in my academics. This is my major college regret. I started out in college as a Biology major because I wanted to be a veterinarian or work in a zoo or train dolphins (most of which I still want to do!) but I took General Chemistry my freshman year. I got a C-, it was a four-credit class, took lots of work, and I did the minimum. Because of this low grade, and another in another four-credit class, it sunk my GPA. The rest of my college career has consisted of taking classes that I know I can get A's and B's in easily so that I can keep my scholarships so that I can stay in college, here at Concordia. This means I changed my major to communications and played around with a Business major. Those classes were too challenging for my minimal effort so I dropped that into a minor...which I then dropped last semester even though I only needed one more class...but it was too hard. I dropped the class which meant dropping the minor. Now I'm finally ending up with a Communications major and a marketing minor. I love communications, especially marketing...but I'm just not sure I'm built for a corporate job.

I don't want to wear suits. I don't want to wear dress pants and dress shirts. I want to wear jeans/shorts and t-shirts. I want to wear my fake-Converse everyday. I want to focus and deal with people and/or animals. Maybe I could teach kids about animals somehow. I don't know. I just don't know what to do.

Well, I truly wish this was a more interesting but it's what's on my mind. :) Next time I hope to have some interesting stories about spending a week at my grandpa's condo in FL with a bunch of old people on the beach.

Peace out.
Alicia

Love Songs

Last night I was driving back from Lincoln and heard a song on 98.1 called "Always the Love Songs," by Eli Young Band. They are a band based out of Texas, and having lived there for the last eight years, I've come to enjoy and follow their music quite adamantly. I've never heard them played on the radio anywhere but Texas, so I was pretty excited and happy that they are finally getting the national recognition that they deserve.

Anyways, the song itself, besides being extremely catchy, does a number of things for me. For one, it reminds me of Texas, of old friends, of past memories, of high school, of "love." It really got me wondering how many of the different songs that I know contain, within the words and music, memories of a lifetime. Music can be a powerful instrument, to put it lightly. It's amazing how many lyrics from songs back in the '90s are still imprinted in my mind. If only I could say the same about things I learned in school back then.

A second thing it did was make me think about love songs. Here comes the embarrassing part. I remember, when I was in junior high, hearing different love songs on the radio and thinking about that certain crush I had on this pretty girl in my math class. I remember wondering if I would one day, with the help of a miracle, be able to think about, or maybe even sing, that same song to my crush one day.

As the chorus goes:

It was always the love songs every time
Made everybody feel something inside
With the fire down low...held your girl real close
Made you wanna love the one you were with
Gave you the courage for that first kiss
It was the love songs
Always the love songs

Although, at the moment, I am questioning what "love" truly is and means, I cannot help but stop and think about how true those words of the chorus ring for me. Something about love songs, of your musical preference of course (i.e. rock, R&B, etc.), have a way of striking a chord in people. When I hear a love song, and definitely this song, I think of how I wish I could hear a love song and think of someone dear to me. Love songs, especially now, leave me wanting something more. Although, I have no one to share all of the radio's love songs with, I am able to wish, to wonder, to dream. And that is enough for me, for now.

---Austin

Open windows

I want rain.

As I child I loved thunderstorms. Not the kind that made the windows rattle but the kind that lit up the sky and had low rumbles. At night if it would be raining my mom would sneak into my room, open one window so we could hear the drops thudding against the grass and lay in bed with me until I fell asleep. Now, when I go home and it rains at night I still hope she'll sneak in and listen to the thunder with me. Sometimes she does and I enjoy the feeling of being little again, safe in my house even as the rain pours down outside.

OU

Family Reunion

So, every year for the last weekend of February we have our Everts family reunion since it is my grandma's birthday weekend. We usually go to Iowa, stay in a hotel for the weekend, hang out, and head home on Sunday. This year we moved it to Lincoln because it's easier for grandma this way. (We used to do it in Iowa cause we have relatives all over the place.) This was just this weekend and not surprisingly, half of our family wasn't there. Okay, grandma was just diagnosed with Alzheimer's and it's bad when she says, "This could be the last year." That's never a good sign, but I was kinda ticked cause I mean I get that people have lives but she could be right. As much as I don't want to agree with that statement she turned 87 and it's getting close. I spent the summer taking care of her and when I went back to school my cousin took over for me. I know what's going on in her head and I'm sad that more of us couldn't be there.
But I guess the weekend was still pretty fun. Grandma had 8 kids over a lot of amount of years so the cousins are all different ages. There are 21 of us and I am the 3rd youngest. We are all kind of in different age groups but there's a core group of 6 of us that usually come very year aged 11-25ish that hang out. We had a cousins night which we usually do all crammed into one room. It was fun stuff. We usually play alot of cards (poker with candy hearts and BS) watch lame tv, are really loud, and this year there was a lot of drinking involved since now 4 of us are over 21. We had a really nice room this year. Fridge, microwave, coffee maker, big tv, two comfy beds...
Anyway, I forgot my point...I think...I'm a little out of it we don't sleep a lot during these reunions. I think it was that people need to realize that there probably won't be very many more of these and they should make it a priority. It's not like they don't know when we're having it and can't schedule around it, every year it's the same weekend. I'm just confused. I miss the old days when everyone was there and we were all loud and got disturbance notices. We got thrown out of Valentino's for being too loud one year. And we used to have talent contests and two of my guy cousins would do a killer version of "The Perfect Cheer" from SNL. (They did it at my cousin's wedding as well in her cheerleading attire, that was a sight to see). But everyone would be there. It sucks that we're not as close as we used to be.

Farm Life

I live on a farm. People say I "forget" to tell them that... I don't know if I assume they know that or why I don't tell them. I'm not ashamed of living on a farm, I enjoy the farm life. Yet when I take home friends and we're driving down a gravel road, the question usually comes up... "Where are we going?" I've gotten used to living in Seward. Although, the lights coming in through my blinds at night, bother me. The noises outside my window, I'm still not used to and usually want to get up from bed to see what's going on. I'm not a typical "farm girl," though... I don't do chores outside, except mow the lawn. I know nothing about the dairy cows that we have, other then that my Dad has to do chores daily at 5:30 a.m. and 5:30 p.m. I couldn't tell you how big an acre is for the life of me, but I could tell you what a combine and tractor is and that we plant and later harvest soybeans, corn, and alfalfa. When I ask my Dad questions about the farm, I have to remind him to explain it in English to me, because even in English, I'll probably be nodding my head in agreement without understanding what he's really saying. Yet, I still love the farm life, it will always be where home is.
~LAB