"I have nothing to declare but my genius."

I considered saying these words from Oscar Wilde as I went through customs in London, but thought against it. It has been several weeks since I have posted on here, but I promise I have not been idle while I have been away. I shall now give you a short summary of the past three weeks of my life. I will attempt to be brief but I am warning you now: This will be the longest post in the history of the world.

Monday, February 28: I finally find a pair of frames I can cram my lenses into. Not being able to see is incredibly disorienting.

Tuesday, March 1: Write abstract for Communication Law paper after Optimist deadline.

Wednesday, March 2: Run around like mad preparing for trip. Stay up until 3 a.m. studying for Comm Law test, packing, etc.

Thursday, March 3: Go in at 7 a.m. for Comm Law test. Make high B, as expected. Not bad for 3 hours of sleep and not even reading half of the assigned readings. We all leave for DFW at about 9:45ish. Arrive at DFW, Robyn's parents take us to lunch at Wendy's, drop us off at airport. We are on the plane for 9 hours, arriving there Friday, 7 a.m. their time, 1 a.m. our time. I didn't sleep much and watched Ray and the end of The Incredibles. A baby was screaming near me, the person behind me smelled and the couple in front of me kept kissing and working on scrapbooking. Ray, by the way, should not have been nominated for Best Picture and only received the hype it did because Ray Charles died. I'll probably continue that argument later.

Friday, March 4: It is snowing in London, creating a slushiness on the ground that soaks through mine and Sarah's shoes and socks. We are in considerable pain. We see Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square and take a bus tour through the city seeing all the main sites. We are exhausted at this point and I fall asleep during it. I think I missed seeing the Tower of London. Oh well. Later in the evening, Sarah, Robyn and I attend Evensong at Westminster Abbey. We walk in a little late to the sounds of the boy's/men's choir singing hymns. Sitting in a 1,000-year-old building with monuments and memorials all around while reciting passages, etc., was unbelievable. The experience just felt sacred because of the surroundings. That night, the girls went to a pub and I had fish and chips. Thank God for ketchup because the food over there is bland as crap.

Saturday, March 5: After a slow start, we make it to the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. Sarah goes and does her own thing while the rest of us go tour Westminster Abbey. We took an audio tour that gave us this hand-held listening device so we could take our time. This was probably one of the coolest things we did and we spent over 2 hours walking through the Abbey. The history is out of control and it only reminded me of how we forget how young America really is. "Oh look, there's the tomb of Elizabeth I. Cool." "Wow, over here is Isaac Newton, and here we have Charles Darwin. Neat." My favorite part was Poet's Corner where I practically hyperventilated at all the names there. I kept looking for Wordsworth but couldn't find him. After the abbey, we went and rode the London Eye. It's the world's largest rotating thingamajigger and it's an impressive 20-minute ride. We went back, met up with Sarah at the hostel, and later me, Robyn and her tried to go see a musical. We weren't smart enough to anticipate it being sold out, so we grabbed coffee instead.

Sunday, March 6: Robyn and I head to Kensington Gardens and take pictures next to the Peter Pan statue and on one of the benches as seen in Finding Neverland. We decided the one we sat on was the one used in the movie because we felt Johnny Depp's presence. We also saw Kensington Palace where Princess Diana lived after her divorce until her death. Then we walked to Notting Hill and to Portobello Road. I haven't been mentioning how I had been having shoe/feet problems. From the first day when I got them soaked they had been hurting me. I only brought one pair of tennis shoes and they were thin and the ones that were soaked. Other than that I had ballerina shoes. So, I had to buy new shoes. This was an adventure, and Robyn wasn't too thrilled to be shopping with me, but I found a pair that are the brand Faith, so see kids, God provides. After shopping, we went to the British Library where we saw a copy of the Magna Carta, the Gutenberg Bible, lots of Beatles stuff, an original copy of Jane Austen's Persuasion manuscript on her writing desk, Handel's Messiah, Shakespeare stuff, you get the drift. Way cool.

Monday, March 7: We head to Oxford. And if you thought we hadn't been having fun yet, you were wrong. We spend the day walking around the town, doing a little shopping, going through indoor markets. Robyn, Angela and I tour Christ Church, which was beautiful. We then go and eat at the Eagle and Child, the pub frequented by Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. This is where the s*** hits the fan. I have a jacket potato, which is really just a baked potato, and a Pepsi. But, across the pond when you order bacon on something, it doesn't come out like you'd think it would. They don't fry things all crispy like but rather don't finish cooking them. After we leave and start walking to the university park, my stomach begins to hurt and I have now concluded that it was food poisoning from my potato. Well anyways, we go to a park and then we head to the ACU Oxford houses and Angela figures out the code to get us in. We leave a note for Dee in his room and take advantage of the free internet. All this while my stomach has felt progressively worse. We start walking back to our nasty hostel and I feel sicker and sicker. Robyn and I get back a little after 7 p.m. and the others are right behind. About 7:30, in the middle of a conversation with Joey and Angela, I sprint to the bathroom and throw up. I will throw up about 9 times over the next 3 hours as I sit on the dirty floor of the bathroom, shivering and exhausted. Robyn and Sarah take turns sitting with me and holding my hair back. After a while, Sarah tried to get me to drink water and then flattened Coke, but I couldn't keep anything down. So, at a little after 11 p.m., she decides I need to go the hospital. She, Joey and I get there at 11:30 p.m. and I am there until 6:30 a.m. When they put the IV in my hand and started putting the saline in me because I was severely dehydrated, I was convulsing and almost delirious. Sarah was freaking out and for good reason. We at first thought we might have been overreacting, but when they were about to release me at 1:30 a.m., the doctor took my temperature and blood pressure. I had a fever and my blood pressure was fluctuating a lot, as well as my pulse. I think my pulse was 128 while I was lying down. So they put me in the observation ward. Sarah and Joey went home at 4:30 and Sarah came back. I had 3 bags of saline put in me through the course of the evening, which is 3 liters of fluid I believe. My friend, Andy, who is an EMT, said they normally only give that much fluid to severe trauma patients who are bleeding profusely. That's right, I'm awesome. My nurses Oliver and Sarah were very nice to me and called me 'love.' I also didn't have to pay for my visit.

Tuesday, March 8: We sleep for a little while and at about 10 a.m. Sarah goes and books our hostel room for another night and then went and bought groceries for me. We were supposed to be heading to Scotland, but I was too sick to travel. I was too sick to move, really. Our train tickets weren't refundable, either. Angela, Joey and Robyn pack up for Paris and go out to eat and to a park. Sarah and I crash. I will wake up periodically and go to the bathroom and nibble on the crackers Sarah bought for me and sip the water and power drinks she got as well. I was able to take medicine and my fever finally went down at about 5 p.m. when we both woke up. I was supposed to drink 3 liters of fluid but that didn't happen. Sarah did coach me, though, and I tried my best. I was in bed reading and not being happy about being sick, and went to bed before 10 p.m. Oh, and we are rooming with 3 American guys in their mid-20's who were funny but stunk up the room.

Wednesday, March 9: I take a shower for the first time since Sunday night and brush my teeth for the first time since Monday morning. I am able to walk around town a little bit but I get dizzy quickly. I also don't have much of an appetite. In the evening, when we were sitting on the floor of our room playing Nerts, Sarah and I couldn't help but laugh at how we were spending our spring break while the others were trampsing around Paris. Oh well. I seriously could not have survived without Sarah. She took care of me and took on the mother role when I needed it most. She trusted her instinct to take me to the hospital when the others thought she was overreacting, and it was the place I needed to be. My sickness put a huge damper on the middle of her break, but she kept going and worked to get me better. You never know if you can fully trust someone until you are put in this type of situation, and I know I could trust her with anything.

Thursday, March 10: We head back to London. We sleep and so we don't get there and get checked into our hotel in Piccadilly Circus (a real bed and shower!) until the afternoon. Sarah is supposed to meet Robyn at an airport because she was flying in early from Paris. So I decide to go and see Les Miserables at the Queen's Theatre by myself. I felt bad because I was the one who had seen it and Robyn and Sarah didn't get to go. But, I felt justified because of my crappy week. So I go the the theatre and Sarah goes to get Robyn, only when she gets there she learns there has been a type of strike among air traffic controllers and flights were cancelled. Robyn has a great story to tell, but basically she gets help from a variety of people who get her on a train and a plane back to London. She misses our Friday flight though but gets on the Saturday flight with the rest of the crew.

Friday, March 11: I leave bright and early for the airport. Our flight leaves at 10:30 a.m. their time, so I arrive at about 1:30 p.m. our time. I didn't sleep any on the plane and watched The Incredibles, Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, and Closer. Very large Russians (or something, I didn't recognize the accent) sat behind me and the women kept hitting my chair. At first, she sat slouched down with her knees in the back of the chair, not permitting me to adjust my seat at all. But ha! She got up to go to the bathroom and boy did I move my seat back quickly. She kept kicking me and moving around. I just wanted to be back in America. Talk about being confused. Robyn has contacted her family and so they knew I was coming. I called Mrs. King and she was on her way. She and her other daughter, Allison, took me to Chili's to eat and then I stopped by her work with her. All this time my body is about to fall apart. I still have not recovered fully and am very pale, and I had started to feel sick on the plane. So I go home with them and stay up until about 6 p.m. and then crash. I wake up at 3 a.m. to go the bathroom and then sleep until 8 a.m. They took care of me, fed me, washed my nasty clothes, etc. I had missed home and parents a lot during the trip (being sick will do it to you), so they were a great comfort.

Saturday, March 12: The others came in that afternoon and we headed back to Abilene. I go and get burritos at La Popular (crap I had missed American food) and crash.

Sunday, March 13: Church and procrastination.

Monday, March 14: I write a 12-page paper on Harry Potter for my short course that was due that day.

Tuesday, March 15: I spend 10 hours working on my Electronic Publishing Web site storyboard.

Wednesday, March 16: Finish storyboard, totally about 16 hours. Luckily, my Comm Law paper deadline was moved back.

Thursday, March 17: Have the paper and stuff to deal with.

Friday-Sunday: Exhausted. Sleep until 1:30 on Saturday and don't do any work. Fortunately, the Comm Law paper deadline was extended again.

And so here I am. This has taken my an hour to write (with the break for a phone conversation with Daniel). The trip was quite an experience and not one I will easily forget. I don't regret any part of it though. Yes, our communication was not at it's best and we all got on each other's nerves at one point or another. But that's life. I was still in Europe and got to see some amazing things. Hopefully one day I will go back and get to spend more time there.

You can see photos of mine at my Shutterfly account here. You should know my e-mail, and my password is my screenname.

Cheers.

london calling

I'm in the UK. For those who have a Spring Break, have fun and be safe. I'll fill you in on my awesome trip when I come back.

I always knew I should have been British

Random quizzes to take when you should be studying for midterms/writing Comm Law abstracts...


In my not so humble opinion, you, of course, belong
in the Picture of Dorian Gray, and do not try
to deny it. You belong in the fashionable
circles of Victorian London where exotic
tastes, a double life, decadence, wit and a
hypocritical belief in moral betterment make
you a home. You belong where the witty
apothegms of Lords, the silly moralities of
matrons, the blinding high of opium, and the
beauty of visual arts mingle to form one
convoluted world.


Which Classic Novel do You Belong In?
brought to you by Quizilla

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.

The Surreal Life

I remember last semester when a group of 8 girls stood outside Campus Life after a meeting with Wayne Barnard and Mike Spell. We were brainstorming ideas of what we would do if we actually recharted TKG, one of which was getting new jerseys and wearing them in Chapel. I couldn't believe it was we all sat in Section H of Moody today while heads turned and people pointed, all wondering what we were doing. Courtney summed it up when she called it surreal. It's been a good week and getting the jerseys was exciting. It just felt very unifying. This semester is bringing a lot of transition for the club, but I know that things will work out.

Also this week I received the latest copy of ACU Today with my article in it. That was exciting as well and I felt pretty proud. I was reading an interview with the Alumnus of the Year, David Leeson, pulitzer prize-winning photojournalist and JMC alum, and appreciated what he had to say. He mentioned Comm Law and how hard it was but also how necessary, and I liked that I am tied with him somehow through the JMC department and the classes we take. I like how it ends and wanted to post it here.

"We all have a mission in life; we can all make a difference. You don't have to have a camera around your neck to make a difference in life. Ultimately, your personal life is a reflection of the evidence of God within you, or the lack thereof.

"I tell people all the time: It's a wonderful thing to be 47 years old and be able to say, 'I was used by God. It was not what I wanted to do but what He wanted to do.'

"And don't think for a minute that a Christian education doesn't help establish that fundamental concept in your life."

Hooray for fun jerseys. 

I can see down her throat. Our jerseys came in! 

"The Russian Revolution cries: Workers of the World! Awake! Rise! Put down your enemy and mine!"

So, this guy who wrote into the Optimist about me said my column (although he called it an article, which it isn't, dumbass) was unoriginal and a poor excuse for an opinion piece. He suggested I maintain higher standards for the Optimist instead of "parroting half-baked liberal media biases." Two other people wrote me telling me I am biased, especially for citing CNN and The New York Times.

OK. I will no longer ever make an opinion in my opinion columns. I apologize for polarizing everyone who doesn't completely agree with me. It is my fault you misunderstand me.

:)

shoulda been a cowboy

With weeks in between each post, I always have too much to write about. I shall try and recap.

Hooray for the Fort Worth Stockshow and Rodeo and a fun weekend with Robyn. I think I need me a cowboy. He'll come in handy in case there is heavy lifting to be done, or if a calf gets in the road they can tackle it and tie its legs together. Or maybe if there is a stray bull they can ride it.

The King family took care of me and fed me well. I was in a constant state of being full. They know me as the 'Sarah who looks like Courtney,' even though we look nothing alike. Her dad called me Stacy at one point though, and then her mom introduced me as Susan later on. I went with them to a family reunion in celebration of an aunt and uncle's 50th wedding anniversary. Robyn then introduced me to her relatives as various other S-names, such as Stephanie and Samantha. She also told her ex-Marine grandfather that I am enlisting in the Marines and know the Marine hymn by heart. He then asked me to sing "From the Halls of Montezuma..." Those Kings are kidders.

You should look at my way-cool Rodeo pictures here. You know my e-mail, and my username is sahee628.

Last week, as I was driving back to school from HEB, I got turned around on a side street and ended up in the "ghetto" of Abilene. Amidst square houses with chipped paint and cars on cement blocks in the yard, I saw a small animal hobbling down the middle of the street. I slowed down and pulled over to see a three-legged chihuahua coming my way. I think it was one of the saddest things I've ever seen.

Most recent purchase off iTunes: Kelly Clarkson, Breakaway. Don't be ashamed, Justin, it's a great song and it's freaking catchy. I think if I listed off all the songs I have purchased on iTunes, most of you would decide not to be my friend. But hey, they make me happy.

Current reading: Terrify No More by Gary Haugen.

When I went into the Optimist office today, Jaci asked me about my weekend, trying to get a feel for my mood. Apparently, I can be scary sometimes and it is easier on everyone if I'm in a good mood and not stressed out. Funny and true. I will try and not scare you anymore, Jaci. I promise.

I think I have underappreciated my awesome roommate. Last night we had a good talk and I was reminded of what a strong person she is, as well as an amazing resource when I need to talk about life and spirituality. I have also been reminded of what a good friend Justin is. Last week was hell, and when I was practically in tears from stress and lack of sleep, he was there to give me a big hug and talk. I like my friends.

my life is a sitcom

Last week was probably one of the most stressful first weeks of a semester I've ever experienced. Hopefully, the rest of the year will be different but the beginning did not bode well.

I hectically tried to get internship applications together, spending several hours on Wednesday running around campus and bugging professors for recommendation letters. I mailed the applications second-day mail, costing about $30. I was in such a frenzied state that after I mailed them, I got confused about whether I mailed the right letters from my professors to the right organization. After already harassing the people in the mailing center about prices and delivery dates, I went back and had them open up my package so I could make sure the correct letter was in it. It was. I had left most of my Arts page to be written until that night, which is not a smart idea. That is why the page isn't very good. But while I was working on all my Optimist stuff I ran home to try and tape West Wing, only to discover that I couldn't. My VCR is hooked up with my cable, so in order to tape something using my rabbit ears, I would have to rewire everything. I was not happy. Being in the office until 1:30 in the morning 3 days into the schoolyear is not my idea of a good time. I'll just keep telling myself that things will get better.

I went and saw In Good Company this afternoon with Jaci and need to get a start on my page so I don't end up going crazy and producing crap like last week. At the theater, I was again reminded why I hate Abilene: since it was a holiday, Century Theatres, which already does not provide student ticket prices, stops the matinee price for movies at 2 p.m. I was pissed. I only had $6 and had to use my laundry quarters. I told the lady behind the glass this. She didn't care. Jaci was nice enough to give me extra quarters so I can wash my jeans and socks. However, the bureaucratic bastards at Century must be stopped! First not giving us discounts even though we're poor college students and then making us pay more on holidays? Death to them all!

On a completely different topic and note, please keep the families at Highland affected by the car accident yesterday in your prayers. You can read about it here, and post a comment of encouragement on Mike Cope's blog here. These children are so young.

Hygiene is important

I went to the store today and returned a tube of toothpaste. I had bought Crest Fresh Mint on accident. I don't like the way it tastes. So I went and exchanged it for Cool Mint. Does this mean I have issues?

It's the first day of the semester and I am already slightly overwhelmed and stressed. I would have time to fit everything in if only I didn't have to go to class.

Dreaming about Spring Break will get me through...

What's so wrong with elitism?

I bought an $8 rabbit-ear antennae tonight and was able to watch The West Wing. That was $8 well spent, my friend.

The heat is broken in my apartment. It's 30 degrees outside and the thermostat is reading it's about 55 degrees or so in here. It is a wee bit chilly, my friend.

After making quite a journey to get a new tire for Jeff's car yesterday when he had a flat, ultimately opting to purchase a used one from a certain Jesus Moreno in a tire junk yard off Treadaway, the new-to-Jeff tire went flat this morning. While using an old jack to lift the car this afternoon in the WPAC parking lot, a cowboy type stopped by to offer a hand. I later found out he had stopped to help me out of chivalry. I had been standing watching Jeff try and use the jack, and the guy thought Jeff was helping me with my car. Face it, Jeff; I'm cuter than you. Jeff went along with this charade in order to get the guy's help. I had walked away from the car to talk to my aunt on the way to her car, and the guy left before I could thank him. He probably thought I was rude for not talking to him in the first place, him thinking it was my car and my tire, and me thinking since it wasn't my car to stay out of the mess. He was nice and kind of cute and obviously handy with automobiles. Oh well. Maybe I will see him again and can thank him.

Exasperated was the word for the day. Listening to inane conversations about the movie Chocolat, which I happen to both own and like, nearly led me and Jeff to either kill ourselves or our classmates. I am now convinced I have a civic duty as Arts Editor to help people think about movies differently and definitely more critically. I do not think the movie is entirely about indulgence versus abstinence but more about judgment, measuring what good really is and learning to take the plank out of your own eye. I also don't like trying to find theological meaning in everything, analyzing it to death and deciding if it fits into our Christian principles. I don't think that is healthy or fair to you, the art or the artist.

I am going to bury myself under blankets and hope I don't freeze to death in the night.