Nooooo!

I have unfortunately stumbled across this website....and I. can't. stop. watching. It's a silly waste of my time but now that I'm 41917 seconds into it, I feel I'm too far gone and I must continue until it is complete!
This is a fair warning, that if you click her on this you may be here for a year. Now you want to know what it is.....don't you?

42118 seconds.

Beyond My Intellectual Capacity

So I have this big astronomy test on Thursday over nothing that particularly excites me, so instead of studying what is supposed to be on the exam, I watched a video by Louie Giglio titled, "How Great is Our God" and decided I should blog about it. He compares the rest of the galaxy in terms f the Earth being the size of a golf ball, in other words, everything I wish we were learning about in class!

This is now Earth. Imagine you on that Earth. You can't even make a pin prick small enough to represent one person!

After picturing our tiny selves on a small golf ball sized Earth, it only makes sense to compare that to the other bodies our the galaxy. Like the sun for instance, would be 15 feet in diameter next to our Earth. You can put 960 Earths in the Sun which would be like filling a school bus with golf balls! (Has your jaw dropped yet? Cause mine has.)

Louie talks about four main stars, the second being Betelgeuse. It is twice the size...not of the sun...but of the Earth's orbit AROUND the Sun! That would be like six Empire State Buildings stacked on top of each other. 22 trillion Earths could fit in there...you could fill a SUPER DOME with that many golf balls 3,000 times!

If Betelgeuse isn't large enough for you, then you have Mucephi. Its diameter would be 2 Golden Gate Bridges end to end...that's only the diameter! You could squeeze 2.7 QUADRILLION little Earths into this star.

He tries to help us grasp a quadrillion so he talks about how 1 million seconds ago would be 12 days ago...no biggie right? 1 billion seconds ago would be 1975...1 trillion we're now in 29700 BC.......1 quadrillion seconds ago is 30,000,800 years in the past! Holy wow!

Now onto Canis Majoris. I don't even need to go onto this one to explain how magnificently huge God is and how undeniably small we are, but I'll tell you just for kicks. In comparison to a golf ball, Canis Majoris would be the size of MOUNT EVEREST! That's almost 6 miles about sea level! You could fit 7 quadrillion Earths in into this star. Did you catch that? 7 QUADRILLION! That's enough to cover the state of Texas with golf balls...22 inches deep. Yep. That's right.

Now keep in mind how itty bitty we are and remember that this is only our galaxy...not to mention the other who knows how many galaxies that are out there.

God breathes stars into existence. There are no words.

Stairway to Fun!

It comes with the wait

Patience is something I struggle with and something that God is constantly testing me on. I guess he really wants me to learn this fruit of the spirit. I'm most definitely thankful for this, but it doesn't go without moments of frustration and loads of emotions. I happened to stumble upon this poem the other day and it came in perfect timing. God has a way of doing that.

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;

Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.

I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate ...

And the Master so gently said, “Wait.”

“Wait? you say wait?” my indignant reply.
“Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I’m claiming your Word.

“My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I’m needing a ‘yes’, a go-ahead sign,
Or even a ‘no’ to which I can resign.

“You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I’ve been asking, and this is my cry:
I’m weary of asking! I need a reply.”

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, “Wait.”
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, “So, I’m waiting for what?”

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine ...
and He tenderly said, “I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.

“I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You’d have what you want, but you wouldn’t know Me.
You’d not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You’d not know the power that I give to the faint.

“You’d not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You’d not learn to trust just by knowing I’m there.
You’d not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see.

“You’d never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you’d not know the depth of the beat of My heart.

“The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that’s beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.

“You’d never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I’m doing in you.

“So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait.”

-“Wait” by Russell Kelfer

Settled Place

Right now, I believe I have a right to be a little unsettled, a little stressed out and frustrated.

But I am not.

Maybe it is because I am sitting in a cafe with calming music in my headphones, eating a scone and a blended coffee, but I feel more at peace now than I have in a long time.

It is not just a temporary "this place is peaceful" kind of thing. I would more call it a settled peace. I feel like I could handle any situation right now, which probably means that I am being prepared to deal with something new and challenging, I guess. But I am OK with that too.

This settled peace, it is really very freeing. I watch out the window as a sheet of newspaper is tumbled in the wind, as tiny birds hop around beside a car in the parking lot picking at crumbs on the blacktop, and I am just watching. I am not analyzing or preparing the thought of these sights for anything, I am just watching and enjoying their separate beauties.

I am a little scared, I must admit, because I do feel as though I am being prepared for something. I have been put into this accepting state of mind and I am scared for whatever it is I must accept. Maybe I am over analyzing after all. Maybe I am just being blessed with this momentary peace and I should accept it as a blessing and nothing more.

It is hard, sometimes, to accept a free gift, isn't it?

Thoreau

I was looking over some of my Henry Thoreau quotes that I have written down over the years of reading his stuff. Not only do I love Thoreau even with his quirky, far out personality, but I am a huge fan of great quotes, and when you put the two together, it is a beautiful thing, so I wanted to share.

• I know where he’s going. He’s going where he’s supposed to go. So he can be where he’s supposed to be, at the time he’s supposed to be there. Why? So he’ll be liked. My God, a whole country of us who only want to be liked. But to be liked, you must never disagree. And if you never disagree, it’s like only breathing in and never breathing out! A man suffocates on courtesy.
• Retirement? What an absurd idea! Why spend the best part of your life earning money so that you can enjoy a questionable liberty during the least valuable part of it? Why work like a dog so you can pant for a moment or two before you die?
• Maybe to prove less is more. You see, I’m really very wealthy; I just don’t have any money, that’s all.
• If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.

Lament

My all time favorite Bible verse. When times are rough, I always look to this to help me get through.

God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits, to the woman who diligently seeks. It’s a good thing to quietly hope, quietly hope for help from God. It’s a good thing when you’re young to stick it out through the hard times. When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence. Bow in prayer. Don’t ask questions: Wait for hope to appear. Don’t run from trouble. Take it full-face. The “worst” is never the worst. Why? Because the Master won’t ever walk out and fail to return. If he works severely, he also works tenderly. His stockpiles of loyal love are immense. He takes no pleasure in making life hard, in throwing roadblocks in the way.
Lamentations 3:25-33

Looking Back

I wanted my blog to be a place where I could express myself and allow others to get to know me better and on a slightly different level. My blog, Recorded Thoughts, became more or less based off of one of my very first posts titled, “The Beauty of Simplicity.” As the title states, I prefer things done on a simpler scale and my blog is visible proof of this. I decided against adding all sorts of bright colors, gadgets and doodads to my page. Most of my entries were intentionally kept short, sweet and simple because I did not want my audience to lose interest and to so I cut right to the point and the base of my thought. Because of this, everything has a purpose in being there.

Most every entry I did, I began with a photo that I liked or intrigued me and worked backwards by writing about what it made me think of or feel, ultimately my thoughts on the photo. Therefore I decided to call my blog “Recorded Thoughts.” I knew from the beginning of the semester that this way of writing was what I wanted to do. To some readers, what I write may come across more personal because I blog about what has been on my mind that day or at that moment. Usually whether or not it bears a little bit of my soul, I will write it down. I am not ashamed. I wanted it to be more informative to let those who follow my blog will have a better understanding of who I am and catch a glimpse of what goes on in my head throughout the day.

Since the people who read my blog probably do not know me very well, I wanted to create one that would allow for people to understand who I am a little better, not just through my words and thoughts, but through the other modes of communication. I wanted to add some of my favorite songs, even though I find that they regularly change, not only to share with those who choose to read my blog some wonderful songs but because music is such a large part of me. So much so that I decided to devote my first blog entry on the topic. I posted two videos to have a change of pace and venture out from posting just pictures. They just so happen to combine both electronic and audio because they deal with music. One is a live performance by one of my favorite artists, Justin King, and the other is a music video that I found on iTunes’ free download of the week that I fell in love with and had to share.

Although I covered all of the different modes of communication, the majority of my blog consisted of writing and photos, which in all reality is what a blog should really contain. Even so, I could have used more electronic sources, or at the very least a wider variety of videos that show more things that interest me or that I enjoy besides music to go along with what my profile says, “I have an enthusiasm for life and a love for the world and all that it holds.” Overall I am pleased with the way that my blog turned out and the way that it portrays me.

Looking back at the beginning of the semester and I remember how terrified I was at the thought of trying to find time to write 24,000 words on top of the weekly posts and regular assignments and on top of all of that, my other classes. Not only am I happy that I was able to reach that number but I must admit that I enjoyed doing it, something I never thought I would say. Maybe even enough to keep up with it once the year comes to an end.

Where Has All of the Time Gone?

I can barely believe it…there are only twelve days. I am going to be a freshman here at Iowa State University for twelve more days, at the very most. Where in the world did all the time go?!?! I still remember the summer before going away to college like it was last week. I was having pre-college homesickness. I was so scared to leave the comforts of home: no more homemade meals, no more free laundry, no more car, no more bed on the ground, no more Italian cappuccinos. I was not sure what I was getting myself into.

I had wanted to move out and do my own thing all year long, and now that it was finally time to go, I was not ready. I felt like a bride before her wedding, always having nightmarish dreams about being that freshman with the map on campus at the end of the year, or having the hellish roommate, or accidentally shrinking all of my clothes in the laundry. I must admit that I cried profusely the night before I left. Although I would be leaving all of the comforts of home, I think the real reason was because I was leaving my boyfriend at the time behind and I was scared of what was going to happen to us once I left. Cheesy, I know, but it is the truth.

I look back at that time and I cannot help but laugh at the fact that I was so scared of coming here because I see that I had nothing to worry about. I was fortunate enough to know enough people who had gone here previous year(s) to show me around campus or other freshman who were willing to go around with me to search out where all of my classes were for the semester, my roommate is now one of my best friends, and after completing my first load of laundry in an unfamiliar place I was pleased to see that nothing shrunk.

I am really not ready to go back home for the summer. All of my friends are here now. It is going to be so strange not waking up to them and going to sleep to them, eating homemade meals with my family again, and fewer spontaneous late night activities. I am undeniably going to miss them all. I know I am blessed to have been surrounded with such marvelous people, but I want to be selfish and keep them all with me all of the time instead of them going back to their respective homes all over the world.

I have decided that three months is too long being apart. I would much rather be with my buddies than work a nine to five job filing silly papers. So what about the money, I am sure that I would make do, somehow. I have come to terms that this is an unrealistic plan if I hope to live in my house this summer.

Even though this year has not officially been completed, I am already looking forward to the beginning of next year. There are so many new opportunities, circumstances and challenges to face and look forward to.

Although my high school romance ended the first month of being away at college, it has brought only better things. Not only has it allowed for a year of personal growth, new friendships and the broadening of my taste buds, but I have in turn found myself a fabulous guy that any girl would dream of dating. But now instead of getting a fresh Italian cappuccino made especially for me every morning, I have someone special who will drink them with me for now.
Life is good.

So no more minutes. Let us count moments—moments that wedge themselves between days and weeks and rainfalls.

Secret Treasure

It has been one of my dreams to accidentally find a secret box containing something that was hidden in a secret spot of sorts. What started this somewhat strange fascination of mine was the movie Amelie that I watched when I was twelve years old. First off, it was a bad choice of a movie for a twelve year old to watch, let alone one to watch with the whole family. I would not recommend it. Besides the point, Amelie is in the bathroom of her apartment when she hears the shocking news that Princess Diana was killed in a car accident. Out of her horror, Amelie drops her perfume bottle which in turn knocks loose a tile in her bathroom under the sink. She bends over to clean up the mess and notices that the tile was loose and reaches her hand into the opening to pull out a small tin. She opens it to find the memorabilia of a young boy who lived in her apartment years earlier. She decides that she wants to track down the owner of the box and return it to him. How cool would that be?!?!?

If I were to ever find a secret treasure like that, I would really want to keep this little treasure, but I think in the end, the curiosity of who the owner is would get the best of me and I would want to know who this person is and the reason they put the specific things in their container. Why those items? What sentimental value did they have for them when they originally picked them? What does it mean to them now?

As sad as it is, I have come to realize that the chances of me ever coming across a secret crevice that holds the burial place for someone’s memorabilia are incredibly slim. Maybe if I tap all of the tiles in every bathroom attempting to find a hollow one or stick my hand into every hole I find in a tree or dig up my entire backyard will I come across one. Sadly, it will most likely always be in vain.

Although I most likely will never find one, I have highly considered making one and leaving it behind somewhere for someone else to find many years down the road. Maybe they will come looking for me, maybe they will not, but at least someone else will get to live out my little dream...and that's all that matters.

A Taste of Poetry

I was in a poetry mood today and I felt the need to write down some of my favorite poems by one of my favorite poets, Czeslaw Milosz. He has such a way with words.
I wish I could write so beautifully…

Love
Love means to learn to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
For you are only one thing among many.
And whoever sees that way heals his heart,
Without knowing it, from various ills.
A bird and a tree say to him: Friend.

Then he wants to use himself and things

So that they stand in the glow of ripeness.

It doesn't matter whether he knows what he serves:

Who serves best doesn't always understand.

One More Contradiction

Did I fulfill what I had to, here, on earth?

I was a guest in a house under white clouds

Where rivers flow and grasses renew themselves.

So what if I were called, if I was hardly aware.

The next time early I would search for wisdom.I

would not pretend I could be just like the others:

Only evil and suffering come from that.

Renouncing, I would choose the fate of obedience.

I would suppress my wolf’s eye and greedy throat.

A resident of some cloister floating in the air

With a view on the cities glowing below,

Or onto a stream, a bridge and old cedars,

I would give myself to one task only.

Which then, however, could not be accomplished.

So Little

I said so little.

Days were short.

Short days.

Short nights.

Short years.

I said so little.

I couldn't keep up.

My heart grew weary

From joy,

Despair,

Ardor,

Hope.

The jaws of Leviathan

Were closing upon me.

Naked, I lay on the shores

Of desert islands.

The white whale of the world

Hauled me down to its pit.

And now I don't know

What in all that was real.

Incantation

Human reason is beautiful and invincible.

No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping of books,

No sentence of banishment can prevail against it.

It establishes the universal ideas in language,

And guides our hand so we write Truth and Justice

With capital letters, lie and oppression with small.

It puts what should be above things as they are,

Is an enemy of despair and a friend of hope.

It does not know Jew from Greek or slave from master,

Giving us the estate of the world to manage.

It saves austere and transparent phrases

From the filthy discord of tortured words.

It says that everything is new under the sun,

Opens the congealed fist of the past.

Beautiful and very young are Philo-Sophia

And poetry, her ally in the service of the good.

As late as yesterday Nature celebrated their birth,

The news was brought to the mountains by a unicorn and an echo.

Their friendship will be glorious, their time has no limit.

Their enemies have delivered themselves to destruction.

To Raja Rao

Raja, I wish I knew

the cause of that malady.

For years I could not accept

the place I was in.

I felt I should be somewhere else.

A city, trees, human voices

lacked the quality of presence.

I would live by the hope of moving on.

Somewhere else there was a city of real presence,

of real trees and voices and friendship and love.

Link, if you wish, my peculiar case

(on the border of schizophrenia)

to the messianic hope

of my civilization.

Ill at ease in the tyranny, ill at ease in the republic,

in the one I longed for freedom, in the other for the end of corruption.

Building in my mind a permanent polis

forever deprived of aimless bustle.

I learned at last to say: this is my home,

here, before the glowing coal of ocean sunsets,

on the shore which faces the shores of your Asia,

in a great republic, moderately corrupt.

Raja, this did not cure me

of my guilt and shame.

A shame of failing to be

what I should have been.

The image of myself

grows gigantic on the wall

and against it

my miserable shadow.

That's how I came to believe

in Original Sin

which is nothing but the first

victory of the ego.

Tormented by my ego, deluded by it I

give you, as you see, a ready argument.

I hear you saying that liberation is possible

and that Socratic wisdom

is identical with your guru's.

No, Raja, I must start from what I am. I

am those monsters which visit my dreams

and reveal to me my hidden essence.

If I am sick, there is no proof whatsoever

that man is a healthy creature.

Greece had to lose, her pure consciousness

had to make our agony only more acute.

We needed God loving us in our weakness

and not in the glory of beatitude.

No help, Raja, my part is agony,

struggle, abjection, self-love, and self-hate,

prayer for the Kingdom

and reading Pascal.

The HoliDay That Ruined Everything

Our class discussion about how we found out Santa Claus was not real made me recall my own story and I felt the need to do a little blogging about it.

The Christmas holiday season was always, and still is, the ultimate time of year. Not only was I able to see family I would rarely see, eat delicious food and get all sorts of presents, it was the same time for my birthday…which really only meant more presents and a cool party to me. I would begin making my “Christmas Wish List” months in advance. After every commercial break I would be writing down a new toy to my list. Some years it would grow to be a few pages long. I knew full well that I would never get everything on my list, especially a dog which happened to be the first thing on the list every year, but since my parents were allergic, I knew they were high hopes, but regardless I put it down hoping that maybe one year they were feeling extra generous and loving and would reconsider. They never did.

What I loved almost more than the big gifts, were the small little surprises I would find in my stocking Christmas morning. Usually I would have an idea of what was under the tree because they were all mostly picked from my list, but my stocking always carried the unexpected gadgets and doodads and different flavored lip glosses. As soon as I woke up I would skid down the hallway nearly missing the door from my speed and barely skim the top of the stairs to the basement and to the fireplace where my beloved stocking would usually rest on the hearth because it was too weighed down with goodies to hang.

One Christmas morning when I was six years old, I woke up exceptionally early but the adrenaline from realizing it was finally Christmas morning kept me from realizing that the sun had yet to rise. So as I did every Christmas morning, I shot out of bed and down the hall almost missing the staircase and flew down the stairs to the basement, but as soon as I hit the last step I heard something that put me in a shock of joy. “It must be SANTA! SANTA IS IN MY BASEMENT!!!” I stepped down the last stair oh so quietly to be sure I would not scare him off and maybe take with him my gadgets and doodads and different flavored lip glosses. To my utter horror, there was no fat man in a bulging red suit with a massive toy bag draping over his shoulder, it was my mom in her blue pajamas with a Wal-Mart sack sagging from her forearm. I was mortified and did not know what to do. I stood there for what seemed like five minutes trying to register the thought that my mom was the one who had been filling my stocking all of these years, not jolly ol’ Santa Claus.

I finally snuck back up the stairs and back to my bed with a quarter of the enthusiasm I had coming down. I lay in my bed, finally able to make out what had just happened and I began to cry. I cried myself to sleep that night, all because of a silly make believe character, used to make me believe it was possible to reach every house in a matter of hours, no longer existed in my little six year old world. I was crushed. But I got over it, thankfully.

My mom still does not have a clue that the reason I do not believe in Santa Claus is because of her. I doubt I will ever tell her. I think she would be heartbroken to find out that she was the reason I cried myself to sleep that one, sad, Christmas morning. Either that or she would laugh…but I will never know.

Skeleton Boy

One of my all time favorite things is to peek at the free iTunes songs or videos or whatever of the week. Usually I am not particularly lucky and iTunes will fail again at putting up another crappy band. I am in awe at how they consistently put up bad songs, artists and bands. No matter how sucky a song is, I always download it. I am not really certain as to why, but I do. Maybe because I hope that it will grow on me...? Who knows. I suppose to each his own. BUT once in a blue moon they come through. And when they deliver, people, they deliver. I have come across two of my now favorite bands because of this little gadget. They always leave me guessing and it always gives me a little something to look forward to the following week.

This is just one of the few hits I feel that iTunes has gotten spot on. I applaud you for this. The video is intriguing, mostly just the lead singers sporadic dancing and how they keep the little bits of paper out of their eyes, mouths and nostrils amazes me. I mostly just like the song.

Have a listen for yourself if you please.

The Best and Worst Decision

I was eating lunch the other day with a couple of my friends and we happened to look at one of the many “table tents” sitting in front of us. It was about poverty awareness week which intrigued me, so I read on. There were going to be numerous activities but the one that interested me most was a sleep out in front of the Campanile that night. My urge to be spontaneous overcame me once again. How often do you get to sleep outside on central campus in the middle of the week and in a cardboard box nonetheless while raising awareness for a good cause? Sounded like a pretty good idea to me so I asked my friends if they would maybe be up for a little campout and surprisingly they all said yes and rather quickly. I was energized by their speedy reaction and started asking all of my friends that I came into contact with if they would be up for joining us. Most of them said no, but I had a few excited yeses.

I was fully aware that there was still snow on the ground in some areas and that the ground was most likely going to be wet and cold, but nothing that a lot of layers and a cozy sleeping bag could not beat out. Not only was there snow, I had been up since six o’clock that morning and would have to be up and ready by 6:45 the next day, but I was not about to let the weather or sleepiness take away this once in a lifetime opportunity, so the plans continued.

The event technically started at three that afternoon, but we decided there was no way we were all going to sit by the Campanile all day and all night and so we went back to our rooms and were productive instead. More like being productive for what I was going to not be experiencing much of and slept for two hours then showered and got all geared up with three sweatshirts, my winter coat, warm socks, boots and my sleeping bag and headed out to meet with the rest of the crew at 11:30. The two guys that were going to be tagging along were only wearing a long sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt and tennis shoes with a towel as their sleeping materials. I offered to let them use my blankets that were back in my room, but they wanted to prove that they were real men and refused after they found out there was pink in the blanket (heaven forbid). I knew right away they were going to be sorry, but I decided not to say anything and to let them figure it out on their own time. They should know that the girl is always right. ;)

We trekked on over around midnight to find that most everyone had gone to sleep. We chatted with a girl who informed us that our cardboard box beds had been transformed into one massive cardboard mansion and that it was completely full. But she had a tarp! Shortly after we realized we could not fit all five of us on her feeble little blue tarp so we went with plan C…garbage bags. We ventured out about twenty yards from the cardboard mansion so we would not wake anyone and set up camp laying out thirteen even flimsier white garbage bags to separate us from the damp ground. My roommate Kara and I set pulled out our sleeping bags and the guys, Michael and Meng, their towels and flimsy blanket and got settled in for the night but not before talking for two hours or so and not to mention a little tree climbing and rabbit and raccoon chasing. None of us were used to going to bed much before one but the cold air held our senses at a peak. Finally around 2:30 or so, we all hit the hay and using my arm as my pillow and Kara as an extra source of heat and I think I gradually faded away trying to block out every thought of being cold and hoping sleep would make me forget.

Miraculously we all woke up simultaneously. With teeth chattering, Michael asked, “What’s the time? Is it almost 6 yet?” My hand ventured out of my sleeping bag to find my phone and it read 3:23. *@#!%#&@!!! We all started freaking out wondering how in the world it could only be 3:30. Poor Meng was about to get frostbite on his toes since he was only wearing one sock…which I still do not understand how someone could forget to put on the other…but he did. Mine were freezing and I was wearing wool socks and inside of a sleeping bag, I do not know how he made it even that long. At that point, we knew we were not going to make it all the way through the night lying outside under the stars, so we had to come up with a plan. Do we go all the way to our dorms, do we sleep on a bench in front of Carver where we had to be at 7 o’clock the next morning, or do we go hibernate in the MU for a couple of hours? We chose the latter.

We scrounged up all of our things and I noticed that my alarm clock had started crystallizing and my shoes were stiff from frost. I did not even bother rolling up my sleeping bag as I darted towards the MU. I just wanted to be in the warmth again. We found a space in the Sun Room and decided to make our new camp for the night on a few couches. I did not fully realize how cold I was until I could not stop shivering for thirty minutes after getting inside. I slept in all of the layers I had on while outside and inside of my sleeping bag and was just beginning to thaw out by the time I started to fade.

I am woken by a rustling bag followed by a loud crashing and colliding of bottles behind me. I was too scared to really look up to see who was in the room because I was afraid that if I made eye contact with whoever this was we would get kicked out and it was only 6 in the morning so I hid my face in my sleeping bag. The person then started vacuuming which made any hope of sleeping disappear. By this point I realized this person was the janitor and not an actual homeless man picking up pop bottles. He wanted to make sure we were awake and he did a very good job of it by deciding to vacuum around our heads. Finally he left and we all popped our heads out from under our assorted bedding in a daze not really sure what just happened or what to say to each other about what just happened, so we just laid our heads back down for another 45 minutes or so when my no longer crystallized clock gave us another rude awakening. I popped up quickly from my sleep and turned off my obnoxious alarm with surprising energy. Slowly the rest came to life and stared at me with their squinty eyes asking if 6:45 had really come, but this time with less optimism. I sadly had to inform them that this time it was so we packed up all of our things and headed out to Carver for a meeting.

We walked in with all of our gear and sleepy faces and immediately got interesting stares and questions. I think I told the story ten times in a matter of five minutes, but I did not particularly mind. The meeting finally started and I was surprisingly not feeling the effect of the lack of sleep the night before. I looked down the row to see how Kara, Michael and Meng were doing and they all three had their heads down on the table. I could not help but let out a little giggle. Although I was amazed that I did not do the head bob during the meeting, the sensation did not hold off much longer. As soon as I set foot in my 8 o’clock class, it was bad news. My eyes were closing and I was not even aware. I barely managed to make it to my 9 o’clock class before I went back to my room and took a two hour nap. It felt glorious and I was once again revived and able to reflect on the experience to its fullest.

I was kind of proud what we had done, although we wimped out and slept inside of the MU, that was beside the point. We did it for a good cause and donated a few dollars to The Emergency Residence Project. But what was even more rewarding to me than that was that created closer friendships, a good story and some pretty amazing memories that will most likely stay with me for as long as I live as one of the stupidest yet best decisions of my college career.

Crown.

Justin King is one of my all time favorite artists. It does not necessarily matter if you care for acoustic music or not (although he does a variety of music), he still has unbelievable talent! I believe I have seen this video at least ten times and I am still in awe of how fabulous he is. I do not understand how so much talent can fit into one human being! If only I was this good...or ever could be this good. Pure beauty. His music and him. :)

So please, sit back, relax, and enjoy.

'Tis the Season.

Finally, the season of tennis is here! Well, sort of. Stupid Iowa weather…how I despise you so. I love hearing the sound of people hitting and having a good time in my “backyard” of Elm and how I often wish I was one of them. I did not think I would ever miss playing competitively, but I am finding more and more every day that I do not play, I do.

I was never that great of a tennis player, I mostly enjoyed the atmosphere that it presented. The game still allowed for some conversation and it still could make you sweat if you tried…which I did, most of the time. So many of my good friends played which was both a good thing and a bad thing. Good because I always had someone to play with and we were never that competitive but bad because when we were things could get tense and another reason is being girls, we like to talk, often more than playing. But whenever I wanted a solid game I would call up my dad. He was number two in men’s tennis in Muscatine so you knew you were looking for a good game when asking to hit around with him. I usually ended up leaving frustrated because I would always lose (of course!) but I secretly did not mind because I really did enjoy spending some quality time with him, however quickly he would beat me.

Now that I do not have my close friends or my dad to call whenever I have the urge to play, I can already feel the portion of my brain designated to tennis disappearing every day I am not out on the courts. It is sad! I want to play...but the snow poses a problem. Grrr.

Options Galore

I despise not knowing what I want to do with my future. I am not one to usually plan out my day to day tasks; I have a tendency just to do what I am feeling at the moment. I love spontaneity and being able to do things on a whim, I really do, and it is really not benefitting me in the decision process in any way. I just want to know! I find it sad that I really can’t say I know what I am passionate about, besides people that is, but there are sooo many different options and possibilities out there that have to do with people. I can’t even begin to create a list, go through it and see if any of them stand out to me. That would take years!

I have considered being a vet but decided against it because I do not like the thought of animals potentially dying in my care, I thought about having an art major but job findings are slim, then I looked into advertising and decided I did not like the thought of being manipulative, Spanish, but I was too scared to do the projects that I heard the other people had to do when they got into the upper level classes, communication studies, well, I am not really sure, just did not interest me, then fashion of some sort, but concluded it was a scene I did not really want to be a part of, then human resource management but I can’t see myself being stuck behind a desk or in an office most of my life, and now I have moved on to anthropology, but it is science based (I hate/suck at science) so we will see how long this one lasts me. Can’t I just be the travel channel lady and get paid to travel? That would be ideal. I feel like I have worn through most of my options at this point. I do not want to be picky but I do not want to be stuck with something I dislike. I think that is my greatest fear. Well, just be a stay at home mom you say…but I want a career, I want to be self-sustaining. Plus the fact I am not overly fond of children, at least not yet. Maybe when I am closer to being married will I reconsider, but definitely not at this stage in my life.

If someone were to come up to me tomorrow and asked me if I would like to look into my future to see where I will be in, let’s say ten years, I would say YES!!! You might be thinking, “well, where is the fun in that? Part of the fun of life is getting to those places.” I think it would be incredibly fascinating and helpful. Not only would it tell me where I would be professionally, but it would save me the heartache from looking into the wrong guys. Right? Who would not want that? But the chances of this occurring are not very likely, so I will keep trekking onwards and hope and pray God fills my heart with a passion so strong for something I can’t help but chase after.

Rollie Pollie's Escapade

I was taking a stroll a while back on a day much like today, simply enjoying the few moments I had to myself. I love the feeling of having the sun warmed smooth rock like surface beneath me, but this time around it was chilly, which meant one thing…rain. Before I knew it I heard the rain begin to fall from the large white masses above me. I scurried as quickly as my ten little legs could take me to the nearest building. It looked different than the rest with its foggy white walls and I became a little hesitant, but I despise the rain so I took the chance and squeezed through a hole towards the front. I cleaned the soot off of my back with a small leaf I found on the ground. Then I realized I found a leaf while inside of a building. “Well this is odd,” I thought to myself. I looked up to something completely unexpected, to something I had never before seen. Especially not inside a building! The outdoors was indoors. The place was coated in green life of all sorts. I looked twice to make sure I was not still outside by accident and sure enough I was not.

Out of pure curiosity of this new wonderland I was in, I ventured forth, slowly, taking in my surroundings. I heard water trickling around me and I was thankful to be out of the rain. But the water’s natural melody was not coming from outside but in front of me. “What is this place?!” I followed the noise which brought me to a lake. I made sure not to get too close as I am terrified of water. I continue to walk over a rock-like surface similar to the one outside that separated the two bodies of water when I heard voices. I did not want to be seen so I darted behind a shrubbery of sorts and waited for the voices to pass, but whoever it was decided to take their time. As I waited as quietly and patiently as I could, I failed to notice where exactly I had taken cover, directly next to the water! I started panicking. I knew if I left my cover I would be caught and I was more afraid of the thought of facing whatever was out there than staying put. I locked onto a small stem to be certain I was not going anywhere.

As the time slowly passed I surprisingly grew a little more comfortable with the thought of being so close to water, I was even able to look at it long enough to notice that there were things moving in it. I looked closer to see what they were. Low and behold they were fish! At least I was pretty sure they were, I had never been close enough to ever see for myself, but I have heard enough stories about them to have an educated guess. They were so brightly colored in contrast to the dead guck resting below them. I was mesmerized by what life they had; darting here and there, exploring what was around them as if they had never seen it before. One dashed behind a flower that had fallen from a plant above into the water but it was snagged on a rock and only half of it had gracefully found a home in the water. It danced with the fish as another glided behind it. I was beginning to feel drawn to the joy they seemed to be experiencing. I left my post in order to get a better view. My curiosity was overcoming my fear and I inched away from the edge of safety. I sat there, on a smooth, deep green colored leaf and stared in awe at what I had been missing out on my entire life. “I wouldn’t get too close if I were you,” came deep, wise voice on my left. Without noticing, I was only inches away from where the water meets the edge. Startled, I scampered backwards onto safe ground and looked to see who was talking to me. It was a snail. Its curlicue shell was once a pearly white but had now become a dull off-white from years of wear and tear, its body awkwardly coming out and slowly turning towards me and hoarsely said, “You can never be too careful around Boris,” then turned and parted ways leaving a gooey trail on the rock behind him. “What an odd fellow. Who is Boris?” I circled back to return to this new and exciting view only to stare into black, beady eyes warning me to stay away. I was so frightened I ran full speed back onto the smooth, rock-like surface not caring if the voices saw me in my frantic state and then back through the hole with which I entered.

I finally calmed down enough to realize I must have been in there for hours as the rain had passed and the warmth was beginning to reappear beneath me. I continued on my way reminiscing of the time I almost overcome my fear of the water and I was pleased.

Comida Comida

Holy buckets I like food. Good food that is. Not necessarily the food here at Iowa State. I will give it some credit though…I have had some tasty things, but it is still nothing comparable to good ol’ home cooking. I almost picked a college that was ranked second in the nation for its top quality food because I love it so much and I was quite frankly a little nervous about how I would make it at a big college university’s mass produced grub, but I am getting by. I must say that I am incredibly spoiled because my mother is an amazing cook with Italian being her specialty of course. Bolognese, pasta e lenticchie, pasta e piselli, pasta e fagioli, braciole and risotto of all shorts just to name a few of my favorites. I have been so fortunate as to have someone who will always have a warm, well-balanced and scrumptious meal prepared for us by the time dinner comes around. She was even willing to make a random assortment of snacks for when I still lived at home. I miss it incredibly.

I am sad to say that I did not learn the ways of my mother until towards the end of my senior year in high school when I finally realized that I was going to be living on my own and would need to know how to cook. Unfortunately I have not been able to put this little bit of knowledge to use at all considering the lack of a stove, oven or even a sink in my residence hall. But oh how I wish I could cook. Even right now at 10:23 pm.

I went on a little recipe scavenger hunt online last night which was probably a bad idea. I saw numerous recipes that looked delicious and I am dying to try them out…but I can’t. It sucks even more knowing that I can't possibly get anything that i looked at in any of the dining centers or most likely any of the restaurants around Ames although I have not tried them all out yet so I can't say for certain. And what sucks even more than that is the fact that I kept accidentally stumbling upon recipes that dealt with chocolate. I gave up chocolate for lent and I have been craving it for the past couple of weeks. It must be God's way of testing me.

I am looking forward to the day when I finally own my own kitchen, however junky or small it is, just as long as I can prepare a little something to satisfy my hungry and adventurous belly.

The Vicious Cycle

Today has been an interesting day of sorts. To start things off, I was only able to get about three hours of sleep because I really wanted and need to get a good grade in my anthropology class since there are only two exams all semester so I stayed up until the wee hours studying for that along with another exam for Spanish.

I was hoping to do some studying in my eight o’clock health and nutrition class this morning to refresh my brain a little before my anthropology exam at nine since I do not have to worry about missing anything in that class because nothing ever happens and I do not have to pay attention because she does not give exams. Perfect. When I approached the classroom at 7:56 this morning, I notice the lights were off. I thought, “Well this is odd. I checked my email this morning and it did not say anything about not having class.” I opened the door just to double check and I see that the class is full, so I venture in farther to try and figure out an explanation as to why the lights are off. I see my professor and I immediately understand and then I start to laugh. She is standing at the front of the lecture hall dressed in all black, including a black cape tied around her neck, face painted white, hair slicked straight back and also whitened. Behind her the PowerPoint reads, “Blood, blood pressure, and protecting the blood.” Eerie, dark music starts to play and a light shines on her face casting shadows as if she was about to tell a scary story. She throws her arms up and her cape flies up with them. She starts talking in a crazy accent. I sit down, my mouth agape and in awe with the fact that she actually came to class dressed as a vampire. I could not help but wonder what her husband thinks when he sees his wife dressing up to go to work like that, or seeing the faces of the passerby’s as she drives to work. The thoughts and expressions probably were not much different than the ones in that classroom. I thought maybe the lights would come back on once class actually started, but nope, it was dark all hour which made studying difficult and staying awake difficult. I realized I was not the only one struggling keeping my eyes open, a good quarter of the students were dozing. I had an occasional chuckle when she would slip out of the accent and then realize a few sentences later that she fell out of character and it would sporadically start back into the stereotypical vampire accent overdramatizing it and then it would begin to fizzle out again. Towards the end of class I was beginning to get pre-test jitters. This was a big one and I really did not want to mess it up. I packed up my things early and snuck out a minute early so I could beat the crowd.

On my way over to Kildee I was giving myself mini quizzes recalling what I stayed up late studying for. I am not sure what my anthropology professor was thinking when he decided he wanted to test us over thirteen chapters out of sixteen total in the textbook, which is over 77% of the book and amounts to 330 pages, no study guide, review session or curve. “Just take a stab at it, I am sure you will be fine if you study a little bit every night”…WHAT?! That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard! He is going to narrow thirteen chapters into fifty questions, how am I supposed to even know what to study? Stressful. What are we going to even talk about for the second half of the semester? The TA’s hand start handing out the exams five minutes early and I take a deep breath, pull out a fresh mechanical pencil and begin. I immediately start panicking. Of course I would not study the stuff that would actually end up on the test, so I take an educated guess as they always say and start filling in the bubbles praying that I picked the “best” answer. But only twenty-five out of the fifty are multiple choice. Now I have to fill in the blank for thirteen chapters of vocabulary without a word bank. Ugh. Then there are short answer questions regarding a few anthropological sites out of the twenty we studies and we have to tell why they are important to anthropology’s research. Eek! Then we have to fill in a chart listing off all of the species in a certain category of monkeys and where each of them live in the world. Shoot me. I could have slept three extra hours and my grade would probably not be any different. Frustration. So I treated myself to a latte.

Reflective Essay-Week 7

In the article “You’re Short, Besides!” author Sucheng Chan tells her story of what life has been like being handicapped due to having pneumonia and polio as a child. She grew up in a country and in a home where her disability was often looked down upon because it was often believed that she must have led a sinful and destructive life in her previous lives or that it was a result of her father’s rambunctious behavior as a young man. The search to find a school that would accept her was almost as difficult as finding the money to pay for the American school she ended up attending along with the cost of hiring an “amah” who would take care of her while at school. She excelled at school and was the star of her class. When moving to different countries, Chan notices the difference in the way different cultures will react to her disability. Her life has its shares of troubles and trials but that never held her back.

Most people probably cannot relate to Chan’s condition and the struggles that she goes through daily, but through her very descriptive language you feel as if you can be a part of her story whether you are that small girl asking why that person is in a wheelchair or are the one who has befriended someone with a disability. She wants to make the story as real to the reader as possible. She also does this through the organization of her article. The chronological order of mini autobiography is effective and only makes sense. It allows her story to naturally progress in such a way so her audience can easily follow.

Through her persistence and life examples, Chan comes across as being a very strong willed and adamant character. She does not want to be pitied simply because she cannot walk like everyone else. Her tone contains a tinge of bitterness. She dislikes that no matter where she seems to go, people do not know how to treat her and respond to her handicap, even her friends and a professor whom she admires. People go about it a number of ways, making fun of her disability, asking what happened out of curiosity, ignore it entirely and say she is capable of things she knows she is not. She is real and vulnerable to the audience.

Chan’s use of imagery, organization and tone all play a large role in making her paper an affective one. Her strong use of emotions and the pictures it provides draws in her audience while the organization keeps them reading a naturally flowing article. Although her tone may not be the most uplifting, it undoubtedly adds to the imagery and the gives a better representation of what Chan goes through on a regular basis.

The Thoughts That Fill Your Mind at Night

I find it so incredibly frustrating when there are nights that you just cannot fall asleep. You know you have to because you have to wake up early the next morning and there are a lot of things on your “to do list” and you need the sleep in order to successfully accomplish all of them, but that is the very thing that keeps you from drifting off effortlessly into a deep slumber. WHY?! It is always those incredibly important nights that you need your rest the most that you are incapable of dosing off because you are left worrying about how you did on that Spanish exam, your big presentation in speech that is coming up at ten the next day, if so-and-so likes you, wondering if you should buy that cute shirt you saw at Urban Outfitters the other day, if you should have really eaten that delicious but incredibly greasy piece of pizza at dinner (the answer clearly being yes), going through the list of things you need to buy during your next Wal-Mart trip, count on your fingers how many hours you have left to sleep, accidentally start humming a song you heard in the bathroom while getting ready for bed. Then you realize that you have to go to the bathroom. You let out a sigh of frustration because you know that as soon as you get back to bed the process is going to start over again. You can no longer ignore the pressure that is building up and so you awkwardly climb out of bed and make your way to the toilet trying not to wake up your roommate. You are finally back to the warmth of your bed ready to start from square one.

Genius

I love this song by itself, but I feel the video makes it that much better. It is such a simple idea, but it is executed phenomenally and is very tastefully done. I am most surprised at the pure thought of how incredibly long it must have taken to shoot with the thousands of the individual shots compiled into a music video...impressive. My favorite part is when she is in the "water" and playing with the "fish." So cute and creative. I really do not have a whole lot to say about this, mostly I just wanted to share its awesomeness with you.

Warmth

I can barely wait for the days where you can wear your flip flops and not have to look at the weather channel to see if it will be warm enough, where you can slip into your favorite dress and not have to hide its loveliness with a jacket. When you can finally study outside or roll around in the grass, your choice. When the shade is actually comforting and does not feel like death. When you can hear the pitter-patter of the rain tapping on your roof and windows inviting you to enjoy its goodness and not have to tromp through the bitterness of snow. When you can stay out late to stare up at the stars and not feel as if you are so distant, when the sun tenderly wakes you up by wrapping its warmth around you and stays out late in the day to play. What joy the warmth brings its way.

Boo moody Iowa.

City Life

Big cities intrigue me. There is so much to do and see. Life would never get old. I used to live in or extremely close to big cities such as Naples, Italy (a little over three million people), a suburb of Chicago called Wheaton (around 55,000 with Chicago bordering three million) and then a suburb of Denver called Littleton (close to 41,000 and Denver having approximately 555,000). Then I was moved to Muscatine, Iowa breaking the barriers at a whopping 22,000 people. That just so happens to be the place where I spent most of my life. *sigh*

I have always loved going to visit my family because they live near the big cities and we never run out of activities and there is always something new to see and experience whether that be a neat little antique store tucked away in a building or a homeless man singing and playing his accordion at the corner of a busy intersection. But people-watching is by far my favorite thing to do in the city. Just seeing the variety of people that fill the city and listening to all of the different languages that emerge is almost as good as eating carrot cake. If something is close to beating carrot cake’s greatness, it has to be something pretty spectacular. That is how much I love the city.

The hum of constant cars and the rumbling of trains passing by beings happiness to my heart. The busy traffic does not bother me. It kind of brings a little rush when you are trying to figure your way through downtown while weaving in and out of cars. I find it a stress reliever to lay on your horn for a good long minute at the stopped traffic ahead of you even though you know it will not do anything to help hurry things up. Oh the little joys of living in the big city, yet I chose to come to Iowa State. Sometimes I do not understand myself.

101 Things I Will Do Before I Die

One day I will…

Travel to all fifty states by the time I am fifty years old
Go white water rafting
Go mountain climbing
Travel to every continent (yes, even Antarctica)
See Conan O’Brien live
Ride a camel
Lay in a poppy field all day long
Backpack across Spain
Go across America in a hot air balloon
Go on a safari
Be on The Amazing Race with my sister
Get backstage passes for my favorite band
Open my own coffee shop
Go to a big time fashion show
Go parasailing
Learn sign language
Live in a loft in a big city
Get a meaningful tattoo
Discover a keepsake box/time capsule
Create my own signature scent
Have a piece of my art shown in a museum
Have one of my poems published
Be an extra in a movie
Ride an elephant
Milk a cow
Go skinny dipping
Create my own personal mission statement and follow it (revising it from time to time)
Travel India by train
Take a dip into a fountain
Write an anonymous letter attach it to a large check and give it to a worthwhile organization
Graffiti something beautiful
Live in a house boat
Stay in an ice hotel (http://travel.msn.com//Guides/MSNTravelSlideShow.aspx?cp-documentid=918831&GT1=41000)
Write a personal letter, leave it in a book at the library and look for it twenty years later
Play chess until I beat someone I should not, then quit forever
Witness a tennis match at Wimbledon
Experience weightlessness
See the Mona Lisa
Try fencing
Learn all of the “love languages”
Learn to belly dance
Learn to play guitar better
Go paragliding
Go zorbing (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ljbOmNX7x0)
Fly through the Bermuda Triangle and live to tell about it
Witness ancient cave art
See the seven wonders of the world
Learn to juggle
Have a star named after me
Have a room in my house devoted to books
Be in the Guinness Book of World Records
Help build a Habitat for Humanity home
Join Peace Corps
Invent something
Attend a Super Bowl game
Drink the sunset
Live a life without regrets
Have a duck as a pet
Have an eclectic collection of things
Trace my ancestry
Send my parents on their dream vacation
Visit Stonehenge
See the pyramids
Go to Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade
Learn to break a board with my bare hands
Travel to the moon with Virgin Galactic (http://www.virgingalactic.com/flash.html?language=english)
Ride in a submarine
See the wreckage of the Titanic
Be turned into a piece of art
Grow a Bonsai Tree
Create a home with an inviting, joyous, comfortable and loving atmosphere
Adopt a child (there are a lot of kids already…why add to it?)
Become financially savvy
Splurge on a one of a kind piece of art
Conquer fear of singing in front of an audience
Have a street named after me
Take up gourmet cooking
Learn origami
Learn how to perform magic tricks
Create a mindmovie
Swim in the largest swimming pool in Chile
Learn a little Tae Kwon Do
Become a Yoga master
Perfect snow skiing
Write a children’s book
Do a book’s illustrations
Go whale watching
See the Northern Lights
Do the Polar Bear Plunge
Walk across Abbey Road
Visit a “real” blues bar in Chicago
Participate in Carnival Parade in Brazil
Bathe in the Ganges

Go heli-skiing

Photograph an endangered species as a reminder of how fragile life is

Spend the night in a storied/historic hotel

Stand at the North or South Pole

Participate in the world’s largest water fight in Thailand

Witness Haley’s comet in 2062

Find the man of my dreams and marry him

Cross off everything on this list

Spontaneous

I love being spontaneous. I have had this itch to go and do something completely random and out of the blue for a few weeks now, until Wednesday night when this craving was quenched.

One of my very good friends, maybe even best friend, Kate, attends Wartburg College in Waverly, Iowa. Not being able to see her at least once a week like I am used to has been tough. We could literally laugh for hours and it did not have to be about anything in particular. We spent a lot of our time watching our favorite show, America’s Next Top Model together and talking about deep life journeys usually consisting of parents and guys during the commercial breaks. Now, about all of the interaction we have had has either been over the phone or through Facebook video messages. Kate has been able to visit me here at Iowa State a few times in order to meet all of my friends and see my puny dorm room, but I have never been there to see the place she now calls home and it was beginning to bother me. Good friends should not be separate for such a large amount of time.

I noticed on Facebook yesterday that her status was “getting ready for her last dance performance!” and a pesky little thought popped into my head. I’m going to go watch. One problem…I did not bring my car to college. I called up a good friend of mine, Valerie, who went to school with her and asked if she would maybe want to go watch Kate dance. Before I could even finish my sentence she agreed to go. It just so happens that she knows a lot of really nice people who own cars.

It was finally time to hit the road. We had our directions, IPod and good stories all lined up for the trip. After an hour and a half we reached our destination after driving past it twice not realizing that the campus is practically the size of my pinky nail. We passed a parking lot that housed a max of eighty cars but kept going thinking there would be one closer to the gym. Nope. That was it. We finally parked and sprinted across central campus due to the fact that it was five degrees and blowing like a mini tornado. I felt as if we were running through Narnia’s winter wonderland. When we reached the gym red faced and shivering we remembered that Wartburg has sky walks that connect all of their buildings, but we were glad we just made it there without the wind blowing us into a pile of snow.

We arrived just in time for the half time performance so we quickly mustered up three dollars each and slyly slipped into the student section trying not to give ourselves away. I had butterflies as if I was about to see my favorite band perform or a boy I have not seen for a long time. We giggled because we could not believe we were actually there. I was watching the clock tick down the last few minutes while watching to see if Kate would appear from the “dungeon” as it was cleverly labeled. Five…four…three...a small guy on the Wartburg team attempts to make a half-court shot but it comes two feet short and bounces into the crowd. Half time! The players clear the court and soon music starts playing. As the girls filed out and got into their starting poses, Valerie and I were holding onto each other like proud parents you see at every event with a camcorder and a button of their kid pinned to their chest. We spotted Kate but she had not yet seen us which prolonged our anxiety. She was a dancing pro, better than many of them who had been dancing for years, and then there is Kate who has not has never taken a lesson in her life. The performance was over and they started filing out towards the dungeon so Valerie and I stood up and yelled her name but she did not look, so we yelled it again. Still nothing. Again. And again. Finally she looked to see where this obnoxious noise was coming from and stopped in her tracks and stared for a good five seconds trying to figure out who we were. Then a dropped jaw followed by a huge smile. My favorite reaction to date.

After about five minutes she came out and charged us. We exchanged a few hugs, smiles and happy stories then headed to see her dorm. She could not get over the fact that we were actually there and that we got away with keeping it a surprise and ranted about how excited she was all of the way to her room. There we met her roommate and a few others were heading to Eucharis, Wartburg’s version of The Salt Company at Iowa State. It was dead. There were a lot of people but little life or growth among them. After the service was complete, Kate introduced us to her friends who consisted of mostly guys and you could tell they all wanted her. She is the one of the few friendly and outgoing girls there so they all flock to her. There was one guy in particular who came out of nowhere and introduced himself to us. I could tell he was trying to win us over and pass the best friend test but I could read right through him. He then proceeded to hug Kate, twice, and I wanted to punch him in the gut and tell him to get his hands off of her but I held back. Eventually we left and hung out with a few of her friends in one of their incredibly nice rooms and chatted about all sorts of odds and ends. She has such fun friends. The night came to an early end when Valerie started falling asleep on the couch so we drowsily walked back to Kate’s at one in the morning and got ready to hit the hay. We chatted in our temporary beds and drifted off to sleep.

I woke to the rhythmic buzzing of my phone and the sun seeping through the shades and onto my face. I rolled over fighting the thought of getting out from my toasty sleeping bag and changing out of my comfy pajamas, but I knew we had to depart. I poked Valerie with my index finger a few times to get her to open her eyes and thankfully it worked. We shuffled around her room trying to gather our things without disturbing anyone but unfortunately Kate is a light sleeper. She climbed down her ladder and joined in our effort to pack up. Once everything was folded and stuffed away in a bag we stood facing each other in a silent pause because we knew what followed was the dreaded goodbye. We hugged for a minute and thanked me for coming out to see her, even though it was for such a short amount of time. It meant a lot to her. We sadly waved goodbye and quietly shut the door behind us, hopped back into the car and headed back home to our everyday, routinized lives.