...I've learned very important lessons.
1) "Might could" is proper phraseology when a given thing is a possibility. To my yankee ears, the term seems redundant, but I suppose these Lone Star Republicans know a thing or two about how to speak.
2) Cowboy boots are proper attire in any circumstances. A county commissioner who goes by the name of "Dude" was wearing them in a meeting yesterday with his dress pants and shirt. He blazenly refused to put on a tie, however.
3) Sometimes, stepping outside yourself and letting others help opens up a door for God to act. I came to Texas knowing nobody but the ladies I'd only spoken to on the phone. A short housing search came up wanting -- on my small budget, even the generally affordable housing of Brazoria County is out of reach. Even as I sent out my emails to local pastors requesting help, Pella, a long time resident of Angleton, did the same, but went one step beyond -- sending an email through the Gulf Coast Baptist Association. I have had three responses already. In addition, the current pastor at the church I grew up in called the pastor at the UMC down here, and I have two offers there as well -- one for the price of free. My efforts have gained nothing. And perhaps my first statement is not entirely true. God is not dependent upon the door being opened, but He waits for it, in anticipation of rewarding a heart that admits its lack of control. I would not have had -- and didn't have so many opportunities through my own efforts. But through His grace, and His blessings, I have more than enough.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
My housing search has not...
...been fruitful thus far. While there are affordable options here in Angleton, they are not so affordable as to fit within my tiny budget.
Therefore, I am asking for prayers, that I might find a place to spend the next year that won't leave me completely out in the cold financially....or alone.
Therefore, I am asking for prayers, that I might find a place to spend the next year that won't leave me completely out in the cold financially....or alone.
I still have primer...
...on my feet. Mostly on my toenails, and it would come off easily with a bit of nail polish remover, but the task of digging that bottle out from amongst the chaotic piles of my things is far too daunting to undertake tonight. It will eventually come off on its own, or, when I am more settled, I will get more ambitious as well.
When I left Ann Arbor on the 15th, there was some question as to when I would actually begin my service with AmeriCorps*VISTA down in Texas. We had not yet received the okay from the state office, and it was questionable whether we would have it before Wednesday, my estimated time of departure. Still, I spent Monday and Tuesday sorting through boxes and bags at my parents' house, preparing myself, so that "even if they email me with the okay at 4:00 Tuesday, I'll be ready to go."
By early Tuesday afternoon, I had nearly readied myself to not leave Michigan until sometime later. Lo and behold, true to my own inadvertent prediction, around 4:00 I checked my email to find that approval had been granted -- all systems were a go.
On Wednesday morning, I said goodbye to my parents and my fuzzball, got in my car, and left my parents' house for grand adventure. My first destination? Indianapolis, Indiana. The drive was uneventful, save for a mid-day migraine that blurred my vision and forced me to leave the road. By the time I found a gas station to buy pain reliever, my peripheral vision was beginning to return. The Tylenol lessened the dull ache in my temples, and I returned to my travels. I stopped once more to find a post office, and arrived in Westfield, Indiana just after 5:00, flowers and wedding book for Gina in hand. The visit was short, but enjoyable, and I got to see the ring that now graces her left hand.
Tuesday I took my time getting started. I finally hit the highway around 11:30am, having changed my destination from Memphis, TN to Birmingham, AL. Deciding that my cross-country roadtrip would not be complete without stopping for a few small adventures enroute. I stopped first at The Falls of the Ohio State Park, on the Indiana side of the Ohio River, just across from Louisville, KY. There I learned about the incredible number of fossils found at this one location, took a few photographs, and continued on my way.
As I drove through Kentucky, I began to see signs for the many caves scattered across the state. Most were in locations not convenient to my journey, but I set my mind to spelunking before the end of the day. Finally, I saw a sign for Mammoth Cave -- perhaps the most famous of them all -- and found it to be just five miles off the beaten path. So, when the opportunity presented itself, I excited the highway and began winding through the woods of Kentucky. When I saw a deer quietly nibbling its dinner along the road, I slammed on my brakes, then laughed at myself for becoming a city girl deterred by such a formerly common sight. After what seemed like far more than the 5 miles indicated, I parked my car, changed my shoes, and went inside. Not pausing at the desk to check the tour times, I headed for the bathroom. As I washed my hands, my phone rang -- my dad, checking up on me. I talked to him for little more than three minutes, then walked up to the desk to request a tour. Too bad for me -- I missed the last one by a total of seven minutes. The kind lady directed me to the historical entrance of the cave, where I could walk in far enough to get a feel for the cave, though not far enough for any actual exploring (or danger).
Lesson learned: spelunking is not for me. At the far gate, the sunlight that graced the opening several yards behind me was hard to come by. Through the open bars, I saw only pitch black, but I could feel the breeze of the cave winds and hear the cavey noises. And I freaked out. The adventurous part of myself wanted to linger there and soak it in. The coward within me edged back toward the safety of the stairs leading above ground. I wandered back toward the Visitor's Center, taking a path that climbed the hills through the woods, completing a half-mile or so hike that more than satisfied my curiosity and renewed my energy for the long drive still ahead.
My third and final side trip for the day brought me into Nashville. I visited the city twice for high school mission trips, and once returning from spring break in 2006. Those experiences combined with its prime Southern location have earned the town a soft place in my heart, and I was excited to return to it. It seems, however, that my high opinion was, in part, correlated to the fact that I'd never actually driven within the city limits. After circling downtown once or twice, and finding nothing of real interest, I stopped off at a Kroger, where I got no more than vague suggestions and equally vague directions. Stopping off at hotel proved somewhat more fruitful, as the desk clerk provided a drawn map, and even parking suggestions. However, there must have been an event at the conference center, as signs at every lot declared a $5.00 fee for the privilege of parking there. I had no cash, and the bright lights of "NashVegas" had long since lost their appeal with my growing hunger and frustration. Finally I gave up my quest and began to search for the highway again, deciding that McDonalds would be better an option than this mess. Inadvertantly, however, I found myself in the Vanderbilt University area, a location I've described as "a quaint town within the city" in the past. There I found not only restaurants, but parking lots accompanying them. Hallelujah.
I had intended to drive all the way to Birmingham that night, but I didn't make it. Giving in to exhaustion, I stopped off in Decatur, AL, and spent the night in a pleasant little hotel. Friday morning, I started my day in Office Depot. Late the night before I checked my email and found out that I needed to print, complete, and fax a few forms to the AmeriCorps state office right away pronto. Mission accomplished -- ahead of schedule -- I drove the last hour into Birmingham. At 1:00 I had to be available to do the Oath of Service for AmeriCorps over the phone, and my arrival time didn't allow me to do much until then, so I drove through town. As Nashville was chaotic and unpleasant, Birmingham was peaceful and welcoming. There was parking at every turn, and I found a quaint coffee shop in which to have lunch.
If you are ever in the Birmingham downtown area, visit the Safari Cup. I recommend it to anyone, and hope that I'll have the opportunity to return some day. The decor was African-inspired, with many authentic pieces. The service was pleasant and the food delicious. I had a "salawich" called the Lion's Feast -- possibly the strangest, yet surprisingly wonderful meal I've ever had. After lunch and my swearing in, I hopped a couple of streets over to explore a little shop called "What's on Second?" -- a tiny story filled with everything imaginable, from political buttons promoting Walter Mondale to antique postcards to false teeth from the 40s and 50s. I spent an hour exploring, then headed across town to the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute, a living museum detailing the history of the local civil rights movement. I spent two and a half hours there. I was nearly at the end of the trail when an employee came through and announced the institutes's closing.
Black, white, blue, gray...this is a place that all people should visit, experience, and understand. It is essential to comprehending what it means to be an american, and to be human. It chronicled the fight for not just equal opportunity, but equal standing -- to be treated not as a lesser being, but as a person of character and worth. Birmingham is a city that defies stereotypes, but it hasn't done it without blood, sweat, and tears. It was only through the efforts and perseverance of brave men, women, and children, some of whom sacrificed their lives for the cause. Every death, every lynching, every ounce of cruelty simply spurred them on, giving fuel to the hope that drove them.
I left Birmingham still in awe, and headed toward New Orleans. It was later than I had planned, and it got dark quickly. I saw nothing of Mississippi but the stars, and they certainly were bright and extravagant. Exhausted, I pulled into Slidell, Louisiana to find a place to sleep.
Lesson learned: Stay away from New Orleans if its the same month as Mardi Gras, let alone the weekend beforehand. I paid far too much for a hotel room that was nice...but not that nice. Then I was woken by a pair of drunk guys stumbling home at two am. When I woke, I readied quickly, got my breakfast, and left the area. Though it added both time and miles to my trip, I drove south and looped through New Orleans. The drive across Lake Ponchartrain was beautiful. The rest of the city seemed to be nothing special, but I didn't get out of the car to explore either.
Saturday was my last day of the journey, and I puddle jumped my way across Louisiana and into Texas, where I was greeted by a rainstorm. I paused for just a moment to gather tourist materials at the Texas Welcome Center, but I was just a couple of hours from "home," and I couldn't wait to get there. After a slight mishap in Houston that involved terrifying highways and incomplete directions, I pulled into Angleton, TX, tired yet relieved to bring an end to my long journey.
When I left Ann Arbor on the 15th, there was some question as to when I would actually begin my service with AmeriCorps*VISTA down in Texas. We had not yet received the okay from the state office, and it was questionable whether we would have it before Wednesday, my estimated time of departure. Still, I spent Monday and Tuesday sorting through boxes and bags at my parents' house, preparing myself, so that "even if they email me with the okay at 4:00 Tuesday, I'll be ready to go."
By early Tuesday afternoon, I had nearly readied myself to not leave Michigan until sometime later. Lo and behold, true to my own inadvertent prediction, around 4:00 I checked my email to find that approval had been granted -- all systems were a go.
On Wednesday morning, I said goodbye to my parents and my fuzzball, got in my car, and left my parents' house for grand adventure. My first destination? Indianapolis, Indiana. The drive was uneventful, save for a mid-day migraine that blurred my vision and forced me to leave the road. By the time I found a gas station to buy pain reliever, my peripheral vision was beginning to return. The Tylenol lessened the dull ache in my temples, and I returned to my travels. I stopped once more to find a post office, and arrived in Westfield, Indiana just after 5:00, flowers and wedding book for Gina in hand. The visit was short, but enjoyable, and I got to see the ring that now graces her left hand.
Tuesday I took my time getting started. I finally hit the highway around 11:30am, having changed my destination from Memphis, TN to Birmingham, AL. Deciding that my cross-country roadtrip would not be complete without stopping for a few small adventures enroute. I stopped first at The Falls of the Ohio State Park, on the Indiana side of the Ohio River, just across from Louisville, KY. There I learned about the incredible number of fossils found at this one location, took a few photographs, and continued on my way.
As I drove through Kentucky, I began to see signs for the many caves scattered across the state. Most were in locations not convenient to my journey, but I set my mind to spelunking before the end of the day. Finally, I saw a sign for Mammoth Cave -- perhaps the most famous of them all -- and found it to be just five miles off the beaten path. So, when the opportunity presented itself, I excited the highway and began winding through the woods of Kentucky. When I saw a deer quietly nibbling its dinner along the road, I slammed on my brakes, then laughed at myself for becoming a city girl deterred by such a formerly common sight. After what seemed like far more than the 5 miles indicated, I parked my car, changed my shoes, and went inside. Not pausing at the desk to check the tour times, I headed for the bathroom. As I washed my hands, my phone rang -- my dad, checking up on me. I talked to him for little more than three minutes, then walked up to the desk to request a tour. Too bad for me -- I missed the last one by a total of seven minutes. The kind lady directed me to the historical entrance of the cave, where I could walk in far enough to get a feel for the cave, though not far enough for any actual exploring (or danger).
Lesson learned: spelunking is not for me. At the far gate, the sunlight that graced the opening several yards behind me was hard to come by. Through the open bars, I saw only pitch black, but I could feel the breeze of the cave winds and hear the cavey noises. And I freaked out. The adventurous part of myself wanted to linger there and soak it in. The coward within me edged back toward the safety of the stairs leading above ground. I wandered back toward the Visitor's Center, taking a path that climbed the hills through the woods, completing a half-mile or so hike that more than satisfied my curiosity and renewed my energy for the long drive still ahead.
My third and final side trip for the day brought me into Nashville. I visited the city twice for high school mission trips, and once returning from spring break in 2006. Those experiences combined with its prime Southern location have earned the town a soft place in my heart, and I was excited to return to it. It seems, however, that my high opinion was, in part, correlated to the fact that I'd never actually driven within the city limits. After circling downtown once or twice, and finding nothing of real interest, I stopped off at a Kroger, where I got no more than vague suggestions and equally vague directions. Stopping off at hotel proved somewhat more fruitful, as the desk clerk provided a drawn map, and even parking suggestions. However, there must have been an event at the conference center, as signs at every lot declared a $5.00 fee for the privilege of parking there. I had no cash, and the bright lights of "NashVegas" had long since lost their appeal with my growing hunger and frustration. Finally I gave up my quest and began to search for the highway again, deciding that McDonalds would be better an option than this mess. Inadvertantly, however, I found myself in the Vanderbilt University area, a location I've described as "a quaint town within the city" in the past. There I found not only restaurants, but parking lots accompanying them. Hallelujah.
I had intended to drive all the way to Birmingham that night, but I didn't make it. Giving in to exhaustion, I stopped off in Decatur, AL, and spent the night in a pleasant little hotel. Friday morning, I started my day in Office Depot. Late the night before I checked my email and found out that I needed to print, complete, and fax a few forms to the AmeriCorps state office right away pronto. Mission accomplished -- ahead of schedule -- I drove the last hour into Birmingham. At 1:00 I had to be available to do the Oath of Service for AmeriCorps over the phone, and my arrival time didn't allow me to do much until then, so I drove through town. As Nashville was chaotic and unpleasant, Birmingham was peaceful and welcoming. There was parking at every turn, and I found a quaint coffee shop in which to have lunch.
If you are ever in the Birmingham downtown area, visit the Safari Cup. I recommend it to anyone, and hope that I'll have the opportunity to return some day. The decor was African-inspired, with many authentic pieces. The service was pleasant and the food delicious. I had a "salawich" called the Lion's Feast -- possibly the strangest, yet surprisingly wonderful meal I've ever had. After lunch and my swearing in, I hopped a couple of streets over to explore a little shop called "What's on Second?" -- a tiny story filled with everything imaginable, from political buttons promoting Walter Mondale to antique postcards to false teeth from the 40s and 50s. I spent an hour exploring, then headed across town to the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute, a living museum detailing the history of the local civil rights movement. I spent two and a half hours there. I was nearly at the end of the trail when an employee came through and announced the institutes's closing.
Black, white, blue, gray...this is a place that all people should visit, experience, and understand. It is essential to comprehending what it means to be an american, and to be human. It chronicled the fight for not just equal opportunity, but equal standing -- to be treated not as a lesser being, but as a person of character and worth. Birmingham is a city that defies stereotypes, but it hasn't done it without blood, sweat, and tears. It was only through the efforts and perseverance of brave men, women, and children, some of whom sacrificed their lives for the cause. Every death, every lynching, every ounce of cruelty simply spurred them on, giving fuel to the hope that drove them.
I left Birmingham still in awe, and headed toward New Orleans. It was later than I had planned, and it got dark quickly. I saw nothing of Mississippi but the stars, and they certainly were bright and extravagant. Exhausted, I pulled into Slidell, Louisiana to find a place to sleep.
Lesson learned: Stay away from New Orleans if its the same month as Mardi Gras, let alone the weekend beforehand. I paid far too much for a hotel room that was nice...but not that nice. Then I was woken by a pair of drunk guys stumbling home at two am. When I woke, I readied quickly, got my breakfast, and left the area. Though it added both time and miles to my trip, I drove south and looped through New Orleans. The drive across Lake Ponchartrain was beautiful. The rest of the city seemed to be nothing special, but I didn't get out of the car to explore either.
Saturday was my last day of the journey, and I puddle jumped my way across Louisiana and into Texas, where I was greeted by a rainstorm. I paused for just a moment to gather tourist materials at the Texas Welcome Center, but I was just a couple of hours from "home," and I couldn't wait to get there. After a slight mishap in Houston that involved terrifying highways and incomplete directions, I pulled into Angleton, TX, tired yet relieved to bring an end to my long journey.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
One week ago, I...
...had a job, and an apartment in a hip town in Southern Michigan. My walls were orange and green, I was part of a strong church and various ministries within it.
Today, I'm unemployed and quasi-homeless (yes, mom, I know I'm always welcome at your house). The walls of my former apartment are painted white (badly, I might add). I'm unattached to any faith body, and I'm currently sitting in Indianapolis, wrapped up in borrowed blankets before I rev myself up to continue my long journey to Southern...Texas.
Lessons learned:
1) Oil-based paint is the most wretched substance known to mankind.
2) Packing up a whole apartment takes ages longer than packing up a dorm room.
3) My mom rocks.
4) I'm capable of a lot more than I believe sometimes.
Shout out to my one reader, Ms. Gina, who is recently engaged and wants me to be her maybe-sometimes-maid of honor. Haha. It'd be my pleasure, and I'd even be happy to share duties with someone who's actually in-state. ;)
It's 8:36 in the A.M. and I need to pack up and ship out. Memphis, TN tonight!
Today, I'm unemployed and quasi-homeless (yes, mom, I know I'm always welcome at your house). The walls of my former apartment are painted white (badly, I might add). I'm unattached to any faith body, and I'm currently sitting in Indianapolis, wrapped up in borrowed blankets before I rev myself up to continue my long journey to Southern...Texas.
Lessons learned:
1) Oil-based paint is the most wretched substance known to mankind.
2) Packing up a whole apartment takes ages longer than packing up a dorm room.
3) My mom rocks.
4) I'm capable of a lot more than I believe sometimes.
Shout out to my one reader, Ms. Gina, who is recently engaged and wants me to be her maybe-sometimes-maid of honor. Haha. It'd be my pleasure, and I'd even be happy to share duties with someone who's actually in-state. ;)
It's 8:36 in the A.M. and I need to pack up and ship out. Memphis, TN tonight!
Friday, February 13, 2009
This world...
...is lost and broken, and today I'm sorely reminded of it.
Tears filled my eyes as I read the story of a young woman who lost her father to the fires of Australia, even as the rest of her family fought for their own lives. Australian police have charged a man for arson -- the potential 300 human deaths and thousands of other casualties in that nation can be attributed to an act of man. Despite my own convictions regarding the death penalty, I felt the desire for vengeance -- for justice -- well up against this man.
CNN reported yet another plane crash, the latest in a rash of questionable air safety. This time, 50 people perished -- crew, passengers, and the resident of the home the aircraft crashed into. One victim was the widow of a 9/11 victim, traveling to Buffalo to continue the humanitarian work she started after he died.
Yesterday, I clicked on a link that took me to the website of a single woman who, determined to have many children, recently gave birth to 8 babies. They join the 6 children she already has at home. Every child in that family was born not out of love, but out of a selfish ambition to be a mom--an ambition that now leads her to ask for donations to support her large test-tube family, as she has "no clear source of income" according to all reports.
My heart is broken for the families of Australia, for those left behind by the tragedy in Buffalo, and for the numerous children of this California woman. My prayers are lifted for them, but even that doesn't seem enough.
Tears filled my eyes as I read the story of a young woman who lost her father to the fires of Australia, even as the rest of her family fought for their own lives. Australian police have charged a man for arson -- the potential 300 human deaths and thousands of other casualties in that nation can be attributed to an act of man. Despite my own convictions regarding the death penalty, I felt the desire for vengeance -- for justice -- well up against this man.
CNN reported yet another plane crash, the latest in a rash of questionable air safety. This time, 50 people perished -- crew, passengers, and the resident of the home the aircraft crashed into. One victim was the widow of a 9/11 victim, traveling to Buffalo to continue the humanitarian work she started after he died.
Yesterday, I clicked on a link that took me to the website of a single woman who, determined to have many children, recently gave birth to 8 babies. They join the 6 children she already has at home. Every child in that family was born not out of love, but out of a selfish ambition to be a mom--an ambition that now leads her to ask for donations to support her large test-tube family, as she has "no clear source of income" according to all reports.
My heart is broken for the families of Australia, for those left behind by the tragedy in Buffalo, and for the numerous children of this California woman. My prayers are lifted for them, but even that doesn't seem enough.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Smelling like a chimney is...
..the worst feeling in the world. I'm an anti-fan of smoking cigarettes, and particularly in public places. If you want to rot out your lungs with tar, then have at it. But don't subject me to the same unwilling punishment.
(Ironically, I don't mind hookah. Yes, it's bad for you in mass quantities, but the approach is different, and it smells good.)
Siew and I went to Ann Arbor's Circus Bar for some high-quality Bluegrass. The hippies were out in droves, but the bluegrass was sorely lacking. It was a little disappointing, but I enjoyed the substitute music nonetheless. I really felt overdressed in my belted outfit and heels. Jeans and dreds would have been more appropriate. The bar itself is quirky, which I appreciate, but a little creepy at the same time. I might have nightmares about the clown hanging from the ceiling. It seems like it'd be a cool place to relax, if there are a few less people around.
We stayed for a couple of hours...long enough to overhear a conversation regarding one gentleman's moustache (grown out for a '70s porn party...no joke), sip one vodka & cranberry juice (after dropping the lime slice on the floor...sad day), and discuss the plummeting attractiveness of a man who, although talented, decided to sing some falsetto-y jamaican jams (he was white, and bearded...and cute until he opened his mouth). I started to crash a little after midnight, so Siew dutifully took me home, where I discarded my smoky duds, ignored my smeared eyeliner, and climbed into bed.
Despite the 1:00am bedtime, I feel surprisingly good today, and am pleased by that. The achiness of waking from a short slumber has long since been replaced by a generally chipper demeanor. My motivation is a little lacking--a situation I can't really afford to indulge, as I have just one day remaining and a week's work to accomplish here.
Which means...I should probably stop blogging and get to work. I hope y'all know I'm wrinkling my nose at that idea.
(Ironically, I don't mind hookah. Yes, it's bad for you in mass quantities, but the approach is different, and it smells good.)
Siew and I went to Ann Arbor's Circus Bar for some high-quality Bluegrass. The hippies were out in droves, but the bluegrass was sorely lacking. It was a little disappointing, but I enjoyed the substitute music nonetheless. I really felt overdressed in my belted outfit and heels. Jeans and dreds would have been more appropriate. The bar itself is quirky, which I appreciate, but a little creepy at the same time. I might have nightmares about the clown hanging from the ceiling. It seems like it'd be a cool place to relax, if there are a few less people around.
We stayed for a couple of hours...long enough to overhear a conversation regarding one gentleman's moustache (grown out for a '70s porn party...no joke), sip one vodka & cranberry juice (after dropping the lime slice on the floor...sad day), and discuss the plummeting attractiveness of a man who, although talented, decided to sing some falsetto-y jamaican jams (he was white, and bearded...and cute until he opened his mouth). I started to crash a little after midnight, so Siew dutifully took me home, where I discarded my smoky duds, ignored my smeared eyeliner, and climbed into bed.
Despite the 1:00am bedtime, I feel surprisingly good today, and am pleased by that. The achiness of waking from a short slumber has long since been replaced by a generally chipper demeanor. My motivation is a little lacking--a situation I can't really afford to indulge, as I have just one day remaining and a week's work to accomplish here.
Which means...I should probably stop blogging and get to work. I hope y'all know I'm wrinkling my nose at that idea.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
I need a tip on...
...how to survive the next few sleep-deprived days.
One night and I'm already on the cranky tired end of things. How did I survive college? I never slept more than 6 hours a night!
One night and I'm already on the cranky tired end of things. How did I survive college? I never slept more than 6 hours a night!
Today's magic number is...
...1,225.86.
It's the number of dollars I owe CitiCard. To some, the amount may raise an eyebrow of concern. But consider this: on January 1, 2009, I owed Madre just over $4,200.00, and Citi had me for somewhere around $4,600. I've often joked that CitiBank was my Rumplestiltskin -- between my credit card and my student loans, any claims on my first-born child were theirs.
The creepy little man may not quite be vanquished, but he's withering away and won't be staking his claim. Today, my non-educational debt totals just $1,225.86. If I hadn't woken up at 6:30 after going to bed at 12:00ish, I'd kick up my heels and do a leprechaun dance around my imaginary pot of gold. Due to my sleep-deprived crankiness, I'll be keeping my happy dance internal. My apologies if you were looking forward to it.
It's the number of dollars I owe CitiCard. To some, the amount may raise an eyebrow of concern. But consider this: on January 1, 2009, I owed Madre just over $4,200.00, and Citi had me for somewhere around $4,600. I've often joked that CitiBank was my Rumplestiltskin -- between my credit card and my student loans, any claims on my first-born child were theirs.
The creepy little man may not quite be vanquished, but he's withering away and won't be staking his claim. Today, my non-educational debt totals just $1,225.86. If I hadn't woken up at 6:30 after going to bed at 12:00ish, I'd kick up my heels and do a leprechaun dance around my imaginary pot of gold. Due to my sleep-deprived crankiness, I'll be keeping my happy dance internal. My apologies if you were looking forward to it.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
I was thinking about...
...the Dixie Chicks song "Wide Open Spaces" this morning. It popped into my head and caught me by surprise. I'm not normally a fan of country, but there are certain songs for certain times, and this is one of those.
Who doesn't know what I'm talking about?
Who's never left home, who's never struck out?
To find a dream and a life of their own
A place in the clouds, a foundation of stone
Many precede and many will follow
A young girl's dreams no longer hollow
It takes the shape of a place out west
But what it holds for her, she hasn't yet guessed
She needs wide open spaces
Room to make her big mistakes
She needs new faces
She knows the highest stakes
She traveled this road as a child
Wide-eyed and grinning, she never tired
But now she won't be coming back with the rest
If these are life's lessons, she'll take this test
She needs wide open spaces
Room to make her big mistakes
She needs new faces
She knows the highest stakes
She knows the highest stakes
As her folks drive away, her dad yells, "Check the Oil"
Her mom stares out the window and says, "I'm a leavin' my girl"
She says, "It didn't seem like that long ago"
When she stood there and let her own folks know
She needed wide open spaces
Room to make her big mistakes
She needs new faces
She knows the highest stakes
She knows the highest stakes
she Knows the highest stakes
she Knows the highest stakes
she Knows the highest stakes
I'm debating whether to start a new blog to keep my Michigan friends and family updated on what's happening over the next year. I know a lot of them are curious about what I'll be doing down in Texas.
The idea of juggling multiple blogs, and especially while also keeping a personal journal is a daunting task. I'm not sure I'm interesting enough for it. And Blogger, though it's easy to use, doesn't offer a function to determine the privacy level of a post. So my journal here is open for the whole world. If I even attach a secondary blog to my account, those folks will have the potential of stumbling across here. Which, I suppose, isn't such a horrible idea. I mean, if I didn't want something out there, I should keep it off the internet completely. But I like this blog being somewhat under the radar. My following of one is good.
Perhaps, though, I should just open this one to the world, and then keep my private thoughts for phone calls and bound pages.
Who doesn't know what I'm talking about?
Who's never left home, who's never struck out?
To find a dream and a life of their own
A place in the clouds, a foundation of stone
Many precede and many will follow
A young girl's dreams no longer hollow
It takes the shape of a place out west
But what it holds for her, she hasn't yet guessed
She needs wide open spaces
Room to make her big mistakes
She needs new faces
She knows the highest stakes
She traveled this road as a child
Wide-eyed and grinning, she never tired
But now she won't be coming back with the rest
If these are life's lessons, she'll take this test
She needs wide open spaces
Room to make her big mistakes
She needs new faces
She knows the highest stakes
She knows the highest stakes
As her folks drive away, her dad yells, "Check the Oil"
Her mom stares out the window and says, "I'm a leavin' my girl"
She says, "It didn't seem like that long ago"
When she stood there and let her own folks know
She needed wide open spaces
Room to make her big mistakes
She needs new faces
She knows the highest stakes
She knows the highest stakes
she Knows the highest stakes
she Knows the highest stakes
she Knows the highest stakes
I'm debating whether to start a new blog to keep my Michigan friends and family updated on what's happening over the next year. I know a lot of them are curious about what I'll be doing down in Texas.
The idea of juggling multiple blogs, and especially while also keeping a personal journal is a daunting task. I'm not sure I'm interesting enough for it. And Blogger, though it's easy to use, doesn't offer a function to determine the privacy level of a post. So my journal here is open for the whole world. If I even attach a secondary blog to my account, those folks will have the potential of stumbling across here. Which, I suppose, isn't such a horrible idea. I mean, if I didn't want something out there, I should keep it off the internet completely. But I like this blog being somewhat under the radar. My following of one is good.
Perhaps, though, I should just open this one to the world, and then keep my private thoughts for phone calls and bound pages.
Monday, February 9, 2009
I packed up...
...my books this weekend, and then did two loads of laundry, which are now sitting in baskets on my floor.
Other than sorting through a mess of financial files, that's all I've done so far to pack. I leave Saturday. I've got a gazillion things to do....but packing up the place you've settled into for over a year when you still have a week to live there is a daunting task. What makes it even more complicated is the fact that a large portion of my things will be going to West Branch, while only the necessaries and a few extras are heading to Brazoria for a year with me.
I have a little time before Bible study tonight. Other than baking a Wacky cake (which I've been craving for weeks and now, thanks to Gina, I have the cocoa to make), I have no plans for that time other than cleaning up.
On a completely random note...waddle is a funny word. Try it out. Say it out loud. Do it. Waddle. Waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle. WADDLE! Waddle? Waddlewaddle.
Other than sorting through a mess of financial files, that's all I've done so far to pack. I leave Saturday. I've got a gazillion things to do....but packing up the place you've settled into for over a year when you still have a week to live there is a daunting task. What makes it even more complicated is the fact that a large portion of my things will be going to West Branch, while only the necessaries and a few extras are heading to Brazoria for a year with me.
I have a little time before Bible study tonight. Other than baking a Wacky cake (which I've been craving for weeks and now, thanks to Gina, I have the cocoa to make), I have no plans for that time other than cleaning up.
On a completely random note...waddle is a funny word. Try it out. Say it out loud. Do it. Waddle. Waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle. WADDLE! Waddle? Waddlewaddle.
Friday, February 6, 2009
I'm moving...
...to Texas!! Yesterday I was offered an AmeriCorps*VISTA position in Brazoria County, Texas, working with the Long-Term Disaster Relief Committee.
As long as the state office approves it, I'll be leaving on February 18th for a long roadtrip down to the Gulf Coast (24 hours of driving time). I'll be there for a year.
A whole year. This is crazy!!
As long as the state office approves it, I'll be leaving on February 18th for a long roadtrip down to the Gulf Coast (24 hours of driving time). I'll be there for a year.
A whole year. This is crazy!!
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Tonight I made it through...
...interview number three. I kept a popsicle on stand-by to keep my throat smooth. They, of course, offered the information that only serves to make every interviewee nervous: "We have several other candidates that we're interviewing."
I have my preferences, of course. At this point, I want the Texas position. But I'd be happy with any offers, of the three. The hard part is now sitting and waiting for someone to call.
I have my preferences, of course. At this point, I want the Texas position. But I'd be happy with any offers, of the three. The hard part is now sitting and waiting for someone to call.
I should have paid attention...
...on Sunday when I felt the first inclinations that I was coming down with something. I ignored the signs, and on Monday I had a sinus headache all day. By the evening, it had turned into a fever that lasted throughout the night and into the next day.
I missed work yesterday, and though I'm there today, I probably shouldn't be. I still feel crummy, and I'm coughing and sneezing and spreading my germs like candy at a parade. I have my second Texas interview this evening, and I don't want to be all groggy and gross for it...I think this position is where I want to spend the next year.
Urgh.
I missed work yesterday, and though I'm there today, I probably shouldn't be. I still feel crummy, and I'm coughing and sneezing and spreading my germs like candy at a parade. I have my second Texas interview this evening, and I don't want to be all groggy and gross for it...I think this position is where I want to spend the next year.
Urgh.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Every day I'm amazed...
...that this is real. Today, I resigned my position (effective the 13th), and despite my fears about a knock-down, all-out brawl, it was fine. Even pleasant. My parents will be coming this weekend to collect my bed and kitty, and then I'll clean up and paint and do my thing for another week.
Jess' status on gchat this morning sums up my current state: "There is no security in what God is doing; only security in Who He is." I don't know for sure where I'll be in two weeks...all I know is that He told me to go with Him, and I certainly can't resist such an offer!
Jess' status on gchat this morning sums up my current state: "There is no security in what God is doing; only security in Who He is." I don't know for sure where I'll be in two weeks...all I know is that He told me to go with Him, and I certainly can't resist such an offer!
Sunday, February 1, 2009
I need something...
...to divert my attention. This has been going around Facebook, and I've been tagged in numerous notes. I like the idea of telling 25 things about yourself, but not so much the idea of tagging others and demanding they do the same. So these are my 25 facts:
1. When I was little I told my mom that I hated our house. Afterward, I had recurring nightmares of it burning. The nightmares stopped when we moved.
2. I get restless if I live in one place for more than a year. I think it has something to do with the fact that I moved 6 times before the age of 10.
3. I believe in marriage because of my parents. They were divorced for four years, then reconciled and remarried. They're still together 15 years later, and they're happy.
4. I love to debate. I hate confrontation. If you become combative, I'll walk away.
5. I've had my cat for thirteen years. Without fail, she comes to cuddle with me when I cry.
6. I slip into a Southern drawl when I'm tired. It gets worse the more sleepy I am.
7. When I'm angry, I get quiet, but push me too far and you'll get an earful.
8. I refuse to be limited by other people's expectations. If you tell me I can't do something, I'll find a way to prove you wrong.
9. When I was really little, I used to throw an afghan over my head, stick my fingers through the holes, and transform into the "cuddle monster," but for a long time I hated to be touched. My friend Ann played a lot bigger part in "popping my bubble" than she will ever know, and I'm eternally grateful.
10. I don't regret any decisions I've made in life. There are some things I'd do differently now, but I wouldn't know that if I hadn't messed it up the first time.
11. I believe that the poor have the most to teach about joy and wealth. I want to spend a year (at least) in a 3rd world country learning from them.
12. When I look at a pedestrian crossing sign, I see a figure dancing, not walking.
13. I am no less of a Christian because I chose not to vote Republican. I firmly believe in separation of church and state. You can't change the hearts by changing the laws. You can, however, fix the economy.
14. I'm turning in my letter of resignation from my job tomorrow morning, and I've applied to the AmeriCorps*VISTA program. I'm more excited about it than anybody could know.
15. I bought a new sewing machine in December, but sent it back and bought a new fuel pump instead. I cried.
16. When I was nine I skied into a fence, broke my leg, and spent nearly three months in a cast. I pretty much blame my dad. He didn't teach me how to stop.
17. Most of my pet peeves involve improper use of the English language, but putting the toilet paper backwards on the roll also ranks pretty high.
18. I think Asian babies are the most adorable children on the planet.
19. For the first time in my life, I'm content being single. And all the things I've wanted (big family, fall wedding, etc) seem like secondary hopes at the moment.
20. My parents are some of the most generous, humble people I know, and I love them for it.
21. I have a terrible time finishing the projects I start. I simply get distracted in the middle by my next big idea.
22. Music is beautiful; lyrics are influential. I choose my music carefully based upon that fact.
23. I don't watch TV, and I find the addiction people have to certain shows sad.
24. I'm pretty much a little kid. Little things make me happy, I laugh a lot, and the world still amazes me. If I ever lose that, I think I will have lost myself.
25. I believe in heaven, I believe in hell, and I believe my afterlife elevator would only go down if not for Jesus. I wish my life was a better representation of that belief.
Well...it's now 11:38pm. I'm sufficiently distracted, and tomorrow is close at hand. Perhaps I should go to bed.
1. When I was little I told my mom that I hated our house. Afterward, I had recurring nightmares of it burning. The nightmares stopped when we moved.
2. I get restless if I live in one place for more than a year. I think it has something to do with the fact that I moved 6 times before the age of 10.
3. I believe in marriage because of my parents. They were divorced for four years, then reconciled and remarried. They're still together 15 years later, and they're happy.
4. I love to debate. I hate confrontation. If you become combative, I'll walk away.
5. I've had my cat for thirteen years. Without fail, she comes to cuddle with me when I cry.
6. I slip into a Southern drawl when I'm tired. It gets worse the more sleepy I am.
7. When I'm angry, I get quiet, but push me too far and you'll get an earful.
8. I refuse to be limited by other people's expectations. If you tell me I can't do something, I'll find a way to prove you wrong.
9. When I was really little, I used to throw an afghan over my head, stick my fingers through the holes, and transform into the "cuddle monster," but for a long time I hated to be touched. My friend Ann played a lot bigger part in "popping my bubble" than she will ever know, and I'm eternally grateful.
10. I don't regret any decisions I've made in life. There are some things I'd do differently now, but I wouldn't know that if I hadn't messed it up the first time.
11. I believe that the poor have the most to teach about joy and wealth. I want to spend a year (at least) in a 3rd world country learning from them.
12. When I look at a pedestrian crossing sign, I see a figure dancing, not walking.
13. I am no less of a Christian because I chose not to vote Republican. I firmly believe in separation of church and state. You can't change the hearts by changing the laws. You can, however, fix the economy.
14. I'm turning in my letter of resignation from my job tomorrow morning, and I've applied to the AmeriCorps*VISTA program. I'm more excited about it than anybody could know.
15. I bought a new sewing machine in December, but sent it back and bought a new fuel pump instead. I cried.
16. When I was nine I skied into a fence, broke my leg, and spent nearly three months in a cast. I pretty much blame my dad. He didn't teach me how to stop.
17. Most of my pet peeves involve improper use of the English language, but putting the toilet paper backwards on the roll also ranks pretty high.
18. I think Asian babies are the most adorable children on the planet.
19. For the first time in my life, I'm content being single. And all the things I've wanted (big family, fall wedding, etc) seem like secondary hopes at the moment.
20. My parents are some of the most generous, humble people I know, and I love them for it.
21. I have a terrible time finishing the projects I start. I simply get distracted in the middle by my next big idea.
22. Music is beautiful; lyrics are influential. I choose my music carefully based upon that fact.
23. I don't watch TV, and I find the addiction people have to certain shows sad.
24. I'm pretty much a little kid. Little things make me happy, I laugh a lot, and the world still amazes me. If I ever lose that, I think I will have lost myself.
25. I believe in heaven, I believe in hell, and I believe my afterlife elevator would only go down if not for Jesus. I wish my life was a better representation of that belief.
Well...it's now 11:38pm. I'm sufficiently distracted, and tomorrow is close at hand. Perhaps I should go to bed.
I'm pretty much terrified...
...about tomorrow morning. Please pray that I will be courteous and confident.
This is my life, and I'm taking charge of it.*
*Um, as much as that is possible. I mean, God has a really big part in it. I'm just taking charge as far as deciding to follow or ignore Him. Following tends to yield better results.
This is my life, and I'm taking charge of it.*
*Um, as much as that is possible. I mean, God has a really big part in it. I'm just taking charge as far as deciding to follow or ignore Him. Following tends to yield better results.
My mom gave me...
...the other half of my birthday present today. The first half was a deposit into my bank account. The other half was a bit more extravagant.
See, my wonderful parents have financed a lot for me over the past few years. But, having limited funds themselves, and desiring that I take responsibility for my own decisions, they also kept a running tally of these payments made on my behalf.
Over time, I've paid down about half the total amount, and in the past year I dutifully sent Madre a check every month.
Today, she told me that she is canceling the remainder of my debt: $4,205.42.
I started crying and could hardly speak. Even now, three hours later, I'm tearing up. Two weeks ago I had a $4,600 balance on my credit card and owed $4,200 to my parents in addition to my student loans (somewhere around $43,000 plus a lot of interest).
Today, my credit card is under $2,000. I owe my parents nothing. And while I won't be paying on the student loans for a year or so, the amount I pay off at the end of that year will equal far more than if I were paying monthly.
I don't deserve such grace.
See, my wonderful parents have financed a lot for me over the past few years. But, having limited funds themselves, and desiring that I take responsibility for my own decisions, they also kept a running tally of these payments made on my behalf.
Over time, I've paid down about half the total amount, and in the past year I dutifully sent Madre a check every month.
Today, she told me that she is canceling the remainder of my debt: $4,205.42.
I started crying and could hardly speak. Even now, three hours later, I'm tearing up. Two weeks ago I had a $4,600 balance on my credit card and owed $4,200 to my parents in addition to my student loans (somewhere around $43,000 plus a lot of interest).
Today, my credit card is under $2,000. I owe my parents nothing. And while I won't be paying on the student loans for a year or so, the amount I pay off at the end of that year will equal far more than if I were paying monthly.
I don't deserve such grace.