Can't...focus...on...schoolwork 

no matter how old you are, you can always relive that certain feeling of inadequacy epitomized in those dreadful years known as middle school

We had our first club social tonight, Kappa Krush. Our theme was "I Love the '90s: Kappas Strike Back." I went crazy at St. Vincent's thrift store this afternoon and bought a bluejean skirt, white turtleneck, embroidered floral vest and navy flats. I looked like a 3rd grade math teacher and I thought it was fun. I thought the Krush was going to be fun. Well, as it turned out, the '90s struck back.

I didn't have much communication with my date, Jake, and he showed up looking much more normal than I did. He also talked with Jeff more than he did with me. Some people were dressed up more than others, but it was OK. I guess. Things went a little slow after we ate, and some played with dodgeballs in the gym. Then we watched Napoleon Dynamite, which is still funny, but during which about half of our crowd left. Then we circled up and sang our somewhat-embarrassing club song. Then we stood around and talked. Then it happened.

I was standing around, minding my own business, talking with Courtney, Jeff and Jake. Suddenly, I was hit in the face with a dodgeball. This wasn't just a bump off of my forehead. No. Smack dab in the middle of my face, knocking my glasses off and breaking them. My frames snapped (but not in half) and one of my lenses popped out. The girl who had kicked the ball in my direction with the force of a gladiator came running over to see if I was OK. I remember getting hit in the head with volleyballs in middle school gym and back then I had to try and play it cool. I really wasn't able to do that this time and yes, I started to cry. I did so in front of Jake (who will probably delete my number out of his cell phone now with good reason) and everyone. Our theme was about going back to the '90s when we were young and insecure, and it couldn't have been more appropriate for the situation.

Jake and Jeff made an exit not too long after that. I tried to drive home but nearly ran into a fence, so I waited around and Courtney drove me back. Hopefully, someone will drive me to Eyemasters or somewhere tomorrow so I can try and get my glasses fixed or get new frames, all before Wednesday because I'm freaking leaving the country on Thursday. Maybe I could just stay in Europe and create a new identity. Hmm...

So now I sit here, leaning very close to the screen and typing away on a Friday night. I hate the '90s.

the sound of silence

I came out of my room yesterday at 1 p.m. (I slept for almost 13 hours. Thank you Sing Song/Lectureship) and heard a delightful baseline coming from upstairs. "That's it!" I thought. I called the offices of the company that runs my apartment complex and filed a complaint. About 10 minutes later, the girl I had talked to on the phone was at our place and came in to hear the noise level. She agreed it was unnecessary and went upstairs, knocked on their door and gave them a citation. The music was turned off. I have not heard it since. I better not hear it or else I know who I am calling. I don't know when I turned into a 50-year-old who wants quiet, but I did and I'm not looking back.

I bought Amy Grant's Heart in Motion at Hastings the other night for $3.24. I like reliving my 5th grade years when I had the cassette and rocked out to it on my walkman. I think I also listened to it on a boom box in the bathroom while I showered. I remember all the words to Galileo and Baby Baby. Ah, good times. I bought it after I ate dinner at Abuelo's with Northside people and it was great to see Adam again. I had a flood of memories and emotions I hadn't thought about in a while, but it was good. I don't know why the age of 16 seems like a lifetime ago, but it does.

My Comm Law professor commented on my red prom dress today. I told you I don't have any privacy. I guess that one's my fault though.

A certain Students' Association Executive Officer coughtylercough told a certain class senator, who probably deserved it, to shut the hell up and go screw himself in the SA office today. Really can't believe he did it, but he is now one of my favorite people.

I forgot to post about this, but I was accepted as an intern in Washington, D.C., for this summer and I am so excited. I applied thinking it was a long shot but I made it. If any of you know someone who lives in the D.C./Arlington area who would like to have me live with them this summer, feel free to pass the information along.

In one week, I will be about to board a plane at DFW to London. We'll see if I come back.

Technology = No privacy

So, Daniel pointed out to me yesterday that I am quite the famous person. Have you ever googled yourself? I've done it with my name and I can find things about me, usually from the Optimist. I can also get a few pictures from my church's Web site to appear. But I always search using google. Well Daniel searched my name using the yahoo browser and a scary thing happened. Click here to see almost my entire life story in pictures. Yes, that is what comes up when you type in my name on yahoo. These are the pictures from my senior slide show and for some reason, Malinda's dad (who puts the church's Web site together) put the pictures on there. So it's kind of creepy.

Also, my Comm Law professor reads this blog. The Optimist adviser and chair of the JMC department reads my away messages on instant messenger and comments on them. This is weird. I guess that is what I get for putting myself out in the tech world. People now know what I looked like as a baby and have seen the red dress I wore to my senior prom. I feel so violated.

Lines written in early Spring

I spent two hours today cleaning my bedroom and bathroom. We had the windows open on this delightful and warm day in West Texas and it was quite lovely. I think I had stuff growing in my shower. But all is well now and I feel quite domestic. I've been on a roll lately, cooking steak and scalloped potatoes just for the heck of it and now cleaning. Who wouldn't want to marry me, much less take me on a Valentine's date, I mean really?

Current listening: Keane, Hopes and Fears

I'd like to give a shout out to Justin Scott, recently home from running a marathon in Austin this morning. You threw up several times and had some trouble, but I can assure you that had it been me trying to run the race, I would have died. Seriously. So you have my upmost respect at your dedication and focus.

The neighbors above us are playing loud music again. This must stop or someone will die.

I leave for London in about 2 1/2 weeks and I can't hardly sit still I'm that excited. It's just getting through this week of Hell known as Sing Song and Lectureship, as well as various tests and projects. Then I'm home free, flying across the pond to experience a country I have always dreamed about going to. If you want souvenirs, speak now or forever hold your peace.

Looking forward to Daniel coming on Friday and bringing me LA presents...

bring it on

So, Lexi and I have started a turf war here at Aspen Place. We have new neighbors to the north who enjoy stomping around, playing loud music and turning the volume on movies up as loud as possible. Apparently, in the room above Lexi's, they were watching a movie Sunday night at about 1 a.m. and it was so loud, Lexi could here the dialogue word for word. She also heard the song Sweet Home Alabama. As much as she is a Lynyrd Skynyrd fan, it was not what she wanted to be lulled to sleep by. She put a pillow to her ear but even that didn't do the trick. The next morning she relayed her frustration to me and we devised a plan. What did we do last night close to 1 a.m.? We blared Sweet Home Alabama on Lexi's stereo and had ourselves a hoedown. That's right, we're vindictive. Don't come between us and a quite night's rest. I wonder if they will respond tonight...

An Ode to Mike Cope

As I sat in church this morning, I saw Mike Cope walk past me down the aisle pushing his youngest, Chris, now in a wheelchair after the accident. It was their first Sunday back, and though Chris went to class, the family didn't stay through the entire service. I couldn't help but think of the time I interviewed Mike last fall. We talked about Megan, since it was the 10th anniversary of her death, and he discussed the wheelchair he would push her in as he went running, training for various marathons and achieving things she would never be able to. And I was just struck seeing him today.

I have so much respect for him and his wife, Diane, and I really consider him my preacher, not the ones I grew up with back home. When he stops preaching I don't know what I'll do. I have learned a lot from him through his teachings on grief and what he learned from Megan's death.

But now I wanted to publish on here excerpts from the feature I wrote on him. It probably won't run because it will have to be rewritten now to consider the accident. Yes it's long; get over it. Here is the beginning and the end of it anyways:

In his office at Highland Church of Christ, Mike Cope sits staring up at a picture of himself and his smiling daughter, Megan, on the top of his bookcase. Concentrating on the young girl’s face, he tells of the last days of her life and the influence she had on everyone who met her.

He remembers one man who snuck into Megan’s deathbed and whispered the deepest secret of his life he'd never shared with anyone. Cope's throat tightens and his eyes fill with tears. He takes a sip of water from a Styrofoam cup and says a barely audible "I'm sorry. You asked. I haven’t thought about that one in a while."

A missionary in Uganda, once a student of Cope’s, sent him a fax after her death saying she had changed his life.

“He was amazed at the way a child could grab his heart and teach him so much about Jesus without even being able to speak,” Cope said.

Another letter came from a lawyer in Arkansas.

“‘You taught me, you baptized me, but Megan is really the one that brought me to the Gospel because when I met her, I thought ‘Why am I trying to kill myself to be a partner by the age of 30, when here’s a child who is fully alive and full of love who doesn’t have any of these kinds of goals and aspirations in life?’’’

Nov. 21 was the 10th anniversary of 10-year-old Megan’s death. Megan was mentally handicapped but led a healthy and energetic life until the age of six when she had chicken pox and almost died from encephalitis, recovering but becoming more feeble. She died of aspiration pneumonia, which she had struggled with for several years.

Cope, in his 14th year preaching at Highland, wrote an article for Christian Standard magazine about her life, death and how his life was completely changed by them.

“In it I talked about how Megan is the most influential minister of the Gospel in my life, and when I say that I’m not exaggerating,” Cope said. “That frail little child for 10 years taught me more about the Gospel than any seminary professor I’ve ever had. She welcomed love even though she could never really speak much. She drew people in.”

Cope spoke at a Christian conference several weeks ago and afterward, he said a woman came up to him unable to speak. Eventually she hugged him and whispered “Megan changed my life.” She had been a speech therapist for Megan in Searcy, Ark., when Cope preached at the College church at Harding University for seven years. She said to him “I pray often that God will put in my kids something of what Megan had.”

“It’s so hard for us to remember that we’re jars of clay,” Cope said. “We want to pretend that we’re these wonderful vases that have been uniquely made and worth millions of dollars, but the truth is we are broken vessels, and with Megan there was never any doubt. She was mentally handicapped, and then when she got older, physically ill. But to this day, people tell me that she changed their life, which is funny for a little child who couldn’t even speak.”
...
Cope said he has spoken many times about what he learned about the Gospel through Megan’s life in that our culture places so much emphasis on external qualities, what he calls accidents of birth. He said society values what one’s IQ is, what they look like in a bikini and how fast they run the 40-yard dash.

“I’ve just tried to imagine ‘What would a culture be like that really values things of the heart, things you’re not just born with but things you’re developing?’” Cope said. “Christian character, what happens when you decide to follow the way of Christ. If culture valued things like compassion, forgiveness, unconditional love, then we wouldn’t have thought of Megan as retarded. We’d think of a lot of us as retarded. But, because we focus on the external things, we think she was the one with the problem.”

not cool

I just looked in the mirror and saw that I had stuff in my teeth that has been there for about 4 to 4 1/2 hours and no one said anything to me. For those of you who noticed I had stuff in my teeth and did not say anything to me, you are officially not my friend. I think it's better to be told and be temporarily embarrassed then to find out later by yourself and be really embarrassed.

I hate you all.

i was this close

Today had to have been one of the most depressing days of my life. After gearing myself up for snow, since the forecast had called for about 2-4 inches of it, I was saddened throughout the day as I kept looking at the sky for flurries of white, but to no avail. Curse you, weather forecasters. You filled my hopes. And they were deflated today. So sad.

When I went to the store to pick up my medicine, I stood in the express line behind an elderly man who caused a ruckus over a coupon. He was buying English muffins but found a coupon for pita bread. The cashier pointed this out to her, to which he indignantly replied that it wasn't his fault, the coupon was next to the muffins, they need to re-lable things, he's going over there right now, we'll see about this, etc. The exasperated cashier gave in, and that crazy old fool got away with it. What's with old people? Are we going to be able to get away with things like this when we're senile? He wasn't apologetic and didn't admit it was his mistake. He made it clear that it wasn't his. He turned and looked at me for recognition, and I gave him a "aw, how cute, you're old and insane" look. Maybe I should just act crazy and I can use wrong coupons for items at the store as well. Ah, to be old.

For Junior class Sing Song, some of our titles include Wham's Wake Me Up Before You Go Go, Meatloaf's I Would Do Anything For Love and Paula Abdul's Straight Up. I am excited. I also feel bad that my parents are paying to see it. It'll be an experience.