stories about nothing and everything

i need to STOP dreaming about soda…(SPOILER ALERT: if you haven’t seen black swan and want to, don’t read this.)

i think my no soda for a year resolution is slowly driving me insane.
this is the fifth night in a row that my dreams have had to do with my wanting to drink soda but am not supposed to.
[if you’re easily disturbed or just want to keep liking me, run away fast. i don’t have normal dreams and usually don’t tell people about them for this reason…]

so i was at the oscars with the cast of glee, doing a giant puzzle(in this room with white walls, and the puzzle was this giant 3D maze that we could crawl through when we were done. chris colfer had stolen it from jk rowling’s basement) and i was asking every star that i saw if i could have a hug, then i left cuz jk rowling called us to let us know she was on her way to kill us.

i doubt if there really is a big ballet studio across the street from the kodak theater in hollywood(that’s where the oscars are…if you didn’t know), but i had apparently started ballet again with one of my friends from school(SO random b/c i’ve only had maybe three conversations with her), and she meets me outside and says we’re late and gonna get fired or something. so we go to mcdonalds, and we went in the bathroom and she busted the mirror and smashed my face into all the glass on the floor, and while i was bleeding to death, she sat and drank a whole two liter of dr pepper in like ten seconds and dumped the last few drops on my face cuz she didn’t have any salt to put on me.(and even in my dreams, i’m always finding something funny in any situation; i kept trying to lick off what i could, but couldn’t reach anything, and couldn’t stop laughing about it.)

somehow or another i “wake up”(i think i was having a dream within a dream) in the parking lot of the gas station near my house and i’m not dying anymore, and one of my guy friends comes and takes me back to school, and i wake up(for real for real wake up) in my bed at school.(which makes things way more confusing b/c that made it feel for a minute like it really happened)
funny thing is, i can totally psychologically pick this one apart. every single piece makes sense to me. except for the mcdonalds bathroom, and the puzzle(the rest is of course due to my falling asleep craving dr pepper while contemplating the oscars and whether natalie portman will win for black swan(in which she’s a ballerina who stabs a girl in a mirror), and both ciu people i had just been with an hour before i went to sleep. and at elizabeth’s house i was looking at this old magazine with jk rowling on the front of it.)

i would have so much fun in therapy. i could terrify any shrink with this stuff.
[just kidding. i just watched the  trailer again and don’t know why anyone would ever watch this movie or why i had wanted to for a minute.]

stories about school

a different kind of homesick.

missing home here, and missing home anywhere else are such different things; it’s not a life crippling, crying every night, “GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW I WANNA GO HOME” kinda feel, it’s more of a “man i love my life, but why does it have to be so full that i can’t step out of it for a night to sit in my kitchen and tell my mom about it” kind.(the first i’ve actually only felt in charleston, i usually don’t even have the second in most places)
this must be what it feels like to be my friends from far away who only see their families at christmas and summer time. and now that i think of it, it must drive them crazy to hear me whine about how i haven’t been home since last weekend. sorry yall. =[
i’m so thankful for ciu. this, not charleston, is THE perfect distance from home.


pure joy, part two.

1. jumping/running/throwing yourself in the mud, all for the sake of catching a ball coming at your face.
2. hermeneutics.
3. pasta night.(i can’t believe i never tried it until this semester. who knew something that amazing could come out of the caf?)
4. being sore and exhausted. (a sick kind of joy that i can’t really explain…but i do feel really accomplished right now. maybe that’s it.)
5. doing scary new things. (i’ve heard that’s healthy.)
6. ciu.
7. feeling encouraged.
8. being part of something.
9. peanut butter straight from the jar.
10. the feeling of never wanting to go home.(it means i’m loving it here more than usual when i feel like that)
11. kenyan accents.(they always sound happy.)

stories about memories

goodbye 2010.

(this was written december 30th. i somehow never published it until now when i found it in my drafts.)

1. in two days, i will have lived in 3 decades, 2 centuries and 2 millenniums all before turning 20. (i know most people think that happened this year, but this was NOT a new decade, just like the year 2000 didn’t start a new millennium)

2. i think this is the first year since maybe ninth grade that movies have not run my life. i didn’t even keep a list, and i probably saw less than 30 anyways. while i still love them and appreciate them and would still write reviews if i had the time(or the money to still have netflix), my life doesn’t revolve around them anymore, and i like it that way.

3. i’ve had another “best summer of my life.” i’ve said that the past three summers, but i really have meant it every time. instead of burning out a little each year, i love it more each year. and somehow the staff has been awesomer every year too.

4. transferring to ciu was probably one of the the best decisions i ever made, not just this year, but ever. i’ve already gone on about this enough in other posts, so you can read more about it there. God so knew what he was doing when he let me fail out of csu.

5. so much has changed. i’ve lost people. i’ve found new ones. God has kept growing me, some in more painful ways than others. but who said change was easy?

6. i learned how to like school, a little too well probably. another God thing. (i never used to be such a workaholic)

7. this year’s ridge haven was by far the best retreat i had ever been on, including all the fall retreats too. i should have known it would be the last of its kind, but at the time, all i could do was look forward to the next one.

8. i’ve always hated having my birthday at camp, since in ’08 and ’09 they were two of the worst birthdays i’d ever had, but this was the most special one i’ve had probably in my whole life, not just that i’ve had at camp. the only thing missing was scott. or any of my family for that matter. i’m only 19, i’m too young to have a family-less birthday yet.

5 best days of the year:
  1. march 8th.(the best day ever)
  2. july 10th.(carowinds with camp people)
  3. august 18th.(moving into ciu)
  4. september 11th.(the beach trip)
  5. november 12-13th.(our hall retreat)

5 worst days of the year:
  1. august 20th(the day beth left)
  2. october 25th(i’m not talking about it)
  3. october 22-24th(midtown retreat. ruined my semester.)
  4. i’m not good enough
  5. at being negative. it was a good year. =]

rambles on ciu sports · stories about school

me and sam gamgee and sports analogies(mike thompson would be proud).

remember how i’m making myself read lord of the rings since i never have?(see my “to do list for 2011” post)
and i really do mean MAKING myself. these things are more boring now than they were when i tried them in eighth grade. so i’m reading just one chapter a day.
yesterday i was thinking about the litter of gerbils i had that i gave lord of the rings names to, and then i was thinking about the hobbits and comparing them to my friends, and then i tried to think which one i was. easy choice.
i am sam. sam i am…and the dr seuss quotes end there, promise. i’m not at all a leader, but i’m an eager and fiercely loyal follower. sam would never let anyone hurt frodo, but he’s not always defensive of himself; i take all kinds of crap from everyone, but i’ll take on anybody who dares try anything on any of my friends. i’m like a lap dog and a pit bull in one. i’ll do anything for people i care about, but then when somebody tries to mess things up, you see how mean i can get. just like sam may seem like kind of a coward, but if he had to die to save the other three hobbits, i’m sure he would.
and instead of being the person doing big things that people notice, i’d rather protect the people doing the important things. i’m a supporter and an encourager and a listener, not a planner or a doer or a [major]speaker. if having people’s back was a spiritual gift, that would be mine.
i realized i’m this way in pretty much all sports too.
in football, i don’t even know the name for what i did(they called me a running back, but i NEVER touched the ball the entire game. running backs get to catch the ball and run. i’m not bitter…), but i like being that person that stands with the quarterback and blocks anybody who gets through the o-line.
in dodgeball i’d rather grab the balls and throw them to everyone else than be the one throwing or catching. (my team called me their golden retriever)
in soccer, even though i suck at every possible thing, i like being goalie(even when i was six and played on a team, but they would never let me do it)because, besides my whole liking to protect things thing, i also hate running, i suck at kicking, i love to watch the game and can do that while “playing”, and if my reflexes didn’t suck so bad, i would probably be really good at it(i can always judge exactly where the ball is gonna go, i just usually can’t jump to that place fast enough). i don’t like being the one scoring the goals; i LOVE stopping the other team from scoring so that my team can score. taking the glory from the bad guys and giving it to my friends. i do the job everyone hates so that they can do the job they love.
and with my most favoritest ultimate frisbee, which is the only sport besides softball that i’m really really good at, i’m still best at defense, even though i do like catching and throwing and running in that case.
i wish i could think of a softball/baseball analogy, but i love everything about it. i’m perfectly happy to play any position, and besides, everyone bats a few times(unless you’re a pitcher in the american league of course) and everyone plays in the field a few innings(again, unless you’re a designated hitter in the american league, then you take the pitcher’s spot at bat and never play defense), so it’s not like there’s much choice. this is why it’s my favorite sport, you get to do everything, even if you’re better at one than another.
i drifted way off topic and now all i can think about is how i bad i wanna go play baseball, so…my point? i think it was something like this: i don’t like the lord of the rings books, i’m a lot like sam gamgee, “fiercely loyal” doesn’t even come close to what i am, i’m a goalie because i like taking care of people, and i love baseball a lot. the end.
does anyone at ciu play? =]

just a thought.


continued from my earlier facebook status.
i get pretty angry anytime i see a commercial or a poster or anything about kids being hurt or abused or neglected or kidnapped or anything else other than being hugged and given candy(although, scott pointed out that pedophiles do that too, but you know what i mean). i was talking to a bunch of people the other day about our evangelism classes and how a lot of us(me included among the worst) are freaked out of our minds at the thought of having to go out and evangelize three people in order to pass the class. so i was praying last night for God to change my attitude and give me more of a willingness to get out of my stupid way-too-small comfort zone and show some people why life is worth living.
then as the words “lost people” came out of my mouth(or my head, but since i was TALKING, in my head, it still makes sense. i digress), something clicked and my mind went to the missing kids posters.
i realized that i get more upset over these kids than i do when i think about people who are lost, as in really really lost.
yes, the innocent little kids needing to get back home is serious, but all kinds of people with empty lives is bigger. and it should matter more than anything else.
so while i’m still feeling totally inadequate and underqualified(which i’m sure most everyone else in my class is too), i’m not terrified anymore, and i’m willing. that’s pretty much the point of the class anyways, to teach us, so i figure it won’t be so hard soon. and now, i WANT to learn. i think it’s okay to be scared. as long as it doesn’t stop me.

stories about camp


i was reading the syllabus for english, and thinking about how much i do. not. want. to retake this class, and i was thinking about mr jones at csu(he SUCKED. if you’re a freshman there right now, take that class from harris, i beg you)and how much he drilled the concept of theme into our heads. and asked us to think of so many different themes from everything we read when most of them didn’t even fit into the story(although, i’m really dense about literature, so they probably all worked and i just didn’t get it), and somehow i started thinking about camp…how DID i get there? whatever. camp. theme. it’s 1 am, quit laughing at me.
so then i was thinking how each of my summers was different from the others.(it’s still hard to believe there’s only been three) they all dragged on and seemed like they’d never end, the second one especially(not that this was ever a bad thing), and they all changed my life in some way, but they all had their different big, major, overarching THEMES going on(see mr jones, i did NOT deserve that D. i totally got the point even if all my papers were like 4 lines short).

2008 was overwhelming, crazy, eye opening…so many things. i was so, so young, and had no idea what i was getting into. i was finally living this dream that i’d had since middle school, and it was nothing like i expected, but in all the best ways. i remember my first first week, when elizabeth told me that i was an adult at camp, and i would be learning a lot. it was a scary thought, being an adult at sixteen. and on top of all that, having my view of camp shaken, turned inside out, the whole summer was just a blur. that year was all about learning. the little things, like how to make a slushie and how to turn on the fan in cabin 7(to this day, you still have to turn it all the way to the right and then back one notch), or the bigger things, like how to survive when people bail on you, how to let go of those who do, how to love even the most difficult kids, and how to be that person that a little girl will remember for the rest of her life.

2009 was the hardest. there are some weeks that i don’t even like to read my journals from, because i don’t like to remember how i felt about them. (yes, it was that bad, and yes, i do write in that much detail.) it was a summer full of change, and i wasn’t ready for it. (ironically, this year i was totally braced for big shocks like that, and it was the first year that no one had jumped ship in the middle) i was still somewhat in camper mode, as much as i’d grown the first summer. see, the kids don’t ever quite understand that no one stays at camp forever. people grow up, graduate, or get “big girl jobs” and even the ones who totally love it have to leave one day. (except for me. when i’m 50 and have grandkids i’ll still be the awesomest cabin leader ever. [kidding.]) i had made camp all about the staff. yes i loved the campers to death, but once certain people were gone, it was like i totally forgot how to do my job. or rather, i forgot how to love it. and at the end of that summer, i was really leaning towards not coming back. (that didn’t last for long. just like i can’t stay mad at scott for more than a few days, i can’t hate camp for long either.) that summer was like a metaphor for my whole life. when things change, or people leave, i shut down. i make my life about the people in it, and not about Who’s running it. (and i didn’t even realize that until spring. it was late february before i even started the application, and it wasn’t because i’d been lazy and putting it off, it made me sad to look at it. but that’s a different story for a different post) that summer was about change. it took me a while to realize how much good all of it did.

2010…i’m not even sure of one repeating idea yet. it was the most different, the most dramatic, the most rewarding, and the best. but my attitude was so much different this year. i came in accepting so many things. instead of fighting them, i realized that there were certain things that were just part of camp.
there will always be drama. girls are like beta fish: stick 30 of them together for ten weeks, and eventually we’ll start fighting. that’s not quite the best analogy since we do love each other and the fish don’t, but whatever. instead of wondering why stuff went on, i just tried to stay out of what i could and make the best of what i couldn’t.
every summer will be different. different staff makes for a different dynamic. i’ve always gotten excited every year about the new staff that will be coming in, but mostly because i just like meeting new people anywhere i go. this year i couldn’t wait to see what each new person would bring to the table, how we would all work together. instead of complaining that it wasn’t the same as other years, i expected it and for that, i loved it.
i can’t settle on a word to describe 2010. i guess, the results of and my reactions to the changes that happened in ’09. but that still doesn’t sound right.
137 days until a new one begins. and i have a feeling, this will be the most different of all. but i’m still excited for it. God has always managed to show up, and the less i have to expect, the bigger surprise He’s got. i’m so ready to see it.

parts of my whole story.


little known facts:
1. i miss dance more than anything.
2. i sincerely thought at one point that i was good at it.
3. i’ve always wished that i could sing, but that’s one thing i don’t even pretend to be good at. it doesn’t bother me much, but just like running or math, it’s one of those handy little talents that i sit and think about now and then.
(that one, i don’t think anybody knew. anybody. not even leighanne or beth or scott or lauren, or anyone else who has a good number of my deep dark secrets.)
4. i really do appreciate mrs debbie for a lot of things, as much as i act like i hate her. (i don’t hate her, i just hate how my best was never good enough for her and that she didn’t believe in me or have any respect for my feelings)

i love glee.

i was watching the episode where artie wants to be a dancer. now, glee always makes me miss dancing, since they do that a lot you know, but since this episode is all about dreams and a little bit about dance(it’s one of my favorites, after the one where mercedes has to lose 10 pounds and starts starving herself and quinn talks some sense into her. quinn’s my favorite too. but i digress), it triggers a lot of crap in my head.

i first heard of ballet magnificat about two years after i started dance. this was probably the highest point of my “career”; a great year had just come to a close, i was skipping a level(first nail in the coffin, but you know that story), and everything was going great. so when mrs debbie told us all about this amazing legit professional company that was all about using dance to glorify God, i was excited, but it was kind of an illusive concept since i hadn’t seen them yet. the next february, we went to one of their weekend workshops. the first night they perform for us, then the next two days we take classes from them, and if we’re lucky we get to talk to them some.

that friday night was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. besides making ruth one of my favorite books of the bible(i’ve read it at least ten times since then, i’d never studied it much before that), i saw what i could be, what i wanted to be. i saw how selfish i’d been in how i saw dance. i didn’t care what place God had in it. all i cared about was feeling important. (note, at this time it hadn’t become a nightmare. that started soon after this)

everything changed. i decided that one day i would be one of them. i would do what i loved and i’d do it for Jesus. what could be better?

for about a month, i was on a high. i let the comments about my weight and my short attention span and overall failure-ness bounce right off me. i didn’t have to be good enough for her. i just had to one day be good enough for them. that was the dream.

that was stupid. true, she said it much more harshly than necessary, but mrs debbie was telling the truth. i didn’t have the talent. i had passion, and i wanted it more than anything in the world, but despite what the movies say, wanting things isn’t enough. i just wasn’t, good.

i’ve only recently come to terms with that. sometimes i’ve wondered if quitting all together was a good decision, what life would be like right now if i’d gone someplace else after my days at footnotes ended. but i don’t think finding another studio after we moved would have helped. a new teacher might have undone some of the damage(corrected my belief that i was fat before it was too deeply ingrained to ever get out, maybe convinced me that i’m not an idiot or a failure), but there’s no point in sugar coating it: i didn’t suck, but i wasn’t great. and that’s okay. there’s other things i’m good at, and they’re a lot more important than having a stable arabesque.

i have a ballet magnificat poster that i got at that first workshop. i had a bunch of the dancers sign it, and they all put their favorite verses on it. i used to have it on my ceiling above my bed. while i cried to God at night after a hard class, asking why i was struggling so much, why no one could see how hard i was trying, i would look at that poster and dream of the day where all that would matter was that i loved Jesus and just wanted to live psalm 149:3 forever. now, that poster is hidden in my closet. it means something so different, so much darker. it doesn’t make me feel good like it did before. i look at it, and i hear my 5 least favorite words echoing in my mind. i see dreams that will never happen, i feel like i don’t matter, i start crying and look around for her to be asking what’s wrong with me and telling me to get up and go on, and if nothing else, i just feel fat and lazy for not being able to do anything i used to. but i can’t bring myself to tear the poster up or burn it; first of all because i paid for it, but mostly because i know that ballet mag was the thing that kept me going. if it weren’t for that ridiculous dream of mine, i would have quit long before i did. i’d be so much more messed up than i am. i would have had nothing to convince me that all the degrading things i heard all day weren’t true. i don’t know what i would be like right now. as stupid as i was to believe i would be one of them someday, i’ll always be glad for what i learned from them. plus, it’s just a pretty picture. it’d be sad to see that on fire.

afraid to remember. terrified to forget.

i really don’t care that i failed as a dancer. i was determined not to mention camp in this post, but i feel like i have to so that the two people that are reading this(no one ever does) won’t think i sit around feeling like a failure all the time. camp is where my purpose and calling is. i’m serving God there like i never did at footnotes. i’m there for all the right reasons and i love everything about it. i’m completely happy with how my life has turned out.

but it would still be nice to be able to dance around my kitchen while i wait for my hot pockets to cook.

stories about memories

just dance. it’s gonna be okay.

how many times did i tell myself that in my 4 and half years?

it was my answer for everything. it was my comfort.

just dance.

i’m pretty sure i loved it.

even though in a lot of ways, it ruined my life. i didn’t care then, but it did.

i never got out of the habit of pointing my feet when i walk(that’s why i bounce. i don’t put my heels on the ground enough.) that isn’t really a bad thing that came of it, but it is a result.

my knee still daily hurts me from the time i popped it backwards and refused to stop dancing on it.

i still assume that everyone thinks i’m stupid.(and it really hurts when people say “wait, you have ADD?” like it’s a shock. you at least pretend that you thought there was another explanation.)

i’ve never lost the idea that i need to lose weight, and i haven’t felt skinny a day since i was fourteen.

it will always be hard to see myself making it anywhere in life.

every day all of that was driven into my head. i quote:

“you say you think you’ll be in ballet magnificat one day? well sorry, you’re never gonna make it.” *turns and goes back to teaching the class which she just humiliated me in front of*

[in front of everyone as always] “things will be a lot harder for you if you don’t start losing weight, your legs are getting bulky. professional companies don’t want football players.”

“one of three things is going on, either you aren’t trying, you don’t care, or you’re just an idiot.”(what else was i supposed to assume? i was killing myself trying, and i cared about it more than anything in the world. that was when it clicked.)

[she never was one for discretion, see. always in the middle of class, always where people were listening and looking at me, always when there wasn’t time for me to retaliate. solid strategy, i’ll give her that.]

and so it continued, those were how they were said the first times. she always worded them a little differently every day. but that was the gist.

i remember in january the year we moved, she kept me back after class and said it seemed like my attitude was changing, and did i even still enjoy dancing.


you think i come in here every day to do something i hate?

i didn’t say that. i just nodded and asked “can i go?”. i was too busy fighting tears to make bigger words come out.

and really. i wasn’t in denial. of COURSE i loved dancing. i still do today.

struggling to do everything i was asked to when i had tendonitis in both knees and being called lazy because i couldn’t do it, is not dancing. being told in front of all your friends that you’re getting fat and need to “be careful”(and you know, even after i lost 12 pounds over freshmen year, i doubt if she would have noticed), is not dancing. being pulled out of a piece and standing on the side posing, watching my friends do what i love, is not dancing. and trying your hardest every single day, while hearing the words “you’re not good enough” in all possible forms and fashions, is not, was not, and never will be, dancing.

but that was as close as i was allowed. like a donkey with a carrot hanging in its face. i settled for following the carrot instead of eating it.

yes, i love to dance. always have and always will. i just didn’t love what i did for the last year and a half of my days at that place.

the fact that they called it “moving for christ ministry” makes me laugh. mrs debbie was moving to make her studio look good, and that’s what she tried to force us to do.

and really, i wasn’t moving for Christ either. it was about me. i did it because i loved it, and i loved it for all the wrong reasons.

once it was taken away from me, i realized that. and i’m so different now. if i still lived near there, i would go back, and i doubt i would care where she put me or how she treated me. i really would be doing it for Jesus. i think that’s why i’ve been missing it more lately. i know so much more what worship means, and all that time, that’s what i could have been doing instead of feeling sorry for myself.

i remember one day last march, at cru we sang how deep the father’s love( back in the day, it was one of my favorites that we did. there was no dancing so i got to be in it the whole time). i tried to remember the signs to it, and suddenly i couldn’t stop crying. later that night i went back to my room and went through every dance i ever learned and could barely remember a thing. it’s like i forgot everything i wasted four years learning.

although, i can get some pretty good things out of it, looking back.

at the time my only friends were the people i spent 20 hours a week with. we got through it together. some of them weren’t always the nicest people in the world, but i got one or two real friends out of it.

then there were of course ballet magnificat workshops. i got to go to two of them and one other time we went and saw them when they came to columbia. they never failed to amaze me. my favorite part was the end, when the audience claps for them, and they look up and clap for Jesus. every single one of them is legit. i learned so much from them. they are what moving for Christ should have been. and i wanted so bad to be a part of that. apparently i didn’t have what it took.

and there’s the constant reminder of everything that happened in those years, that i always have with me. that’s where i got the necklace that i refuse to take off. and i haven’t. i’ve had it on since june 15, 2007. and it’s served its purpose well. every time i look at it, i remember. anytime you see me playing with it in my hands when i’m bored, i’m trying not to let myself forget.

i don’t always like remembering. but i don’t ever want to forget.


to do list for 2011…

1. learn to pray.
i know this sounds like something a 5 year old would say, but i’ve never been talented at this. prayer is a tough thing for us ADD afflicted people, we think too fast. but i’m gonna try real hard this year.

2. have a quiet time in the 10 months out of the year that i’m not at camp.
again. really elementary things here. and actually this sounds really backward, as most people have a harder time finding time at camp to have God time(we get tired. we let the fact that we’re working for God all day long replace our devotion time. we write letters instead. there’s all kinds of excuses.[note: i’ve used each of these several times before, and i’ve had other people agree on them. i’m not pointing fingers.]) but for the most part, camp is where i feel closest to God. it feels more worth it to get up a half hour early there. outside camp, i don’t have the discipline or feel like there’s any point to it.
this isn’t good and i need to fix it.

3. figure out what God wants me to do outside camp.
now. camp is wonderful. camp is my favorite. i’m in 100% confidence that camp is where God wants me. at least for now. but it’s of course only in the summer. and not for the rest of my life. obviously, there’s something else out there that i’m supposed to be working towards or thinking about. but i have no idea what that is.
i think i miss camp so much when i’m away from it because there, i know i’m right in the middle of God’s will. every day i wake up and i do what i was made to do. and i go to sleep knowing i did something eternal. i’m happy there. that’s the place i feel the most alive.
i figure i’m missing something. there has to be something that God has in mind for my off season. i know camp is the big plan for now, but between summers, there’s gotta be something to fill that hole with. and i’m setting out to find it.
i’m watching jay leno right now. louise c.k is on there saying, if you’re 20, you definitely have never done anything for anybody. true enough, he’s just doing his job and being funny, so i’m not saying this because i’m offended, but i figured i should speak up. God has let me do so much already and i’m not even 20 yet. i am 1)freaked out of my mind cuz i just realized i’m almost there, 2) totally blessed cuz there are a lot of people who hadn’t made an impact who are well over 20, and 3)super excited at what God has up ahead, if when i’m still young and stupid i’ve been able to do all these little things for Him, what kind of big things must He have when i’m old and smart?
4. read all the lord of the rings books.
we’re shifting into the less serious ones now. anyways, i’ve read the hobbit, and i’ve seen all three movies, and i got about a third of the way into the fellowship of the ring, but i’ve never read them all the way through.

5. read persuasion by jane austen.
every time i watch the lake house, i tell myself i need to read this book, but i never have. (i actually got it for my kindle for pc app, then read the first chapter but then jamie wanted to go eat and i forgot to come back to it. that’s the closest i’ve come)

6. read jane eyre.
and this, i want to read every time i watch definitely maybe. i spend a lot more time watching movies then reading books, if you couldn’t tell.

7. watch at least 60 movies.
my old quota for the past few years was 120(10 a month, not so difficult) but after failing so miserably this year, i’ve had to come to terms with the fact that between not being home in the summer, to having to actually study now during the year, i just don’t have that much time anymore. stupid being-grown-up-ness. plus, with only 5 movies a month, i’ll have more time to write reviews of the few that i see, which is half the fun anyways.

8. work back up to where i can do a full split again.
being away from school doesn’t ever sit well with me, so to keep myself from dying of boredom i’ve gotten to where i’m pretty close already. i figure i may as well keep it up.

9. journal at least half as much as i do in the summer, the rest of the time.
seriously. i just have no motivation in the real world, unless it’s school related. but i like writing about my life where other people aren’t reading it. i like having something to go back to to remember things or see how i’ve grown since a certain point. i’m bad at holding things in my mind and much better at putting them on paper anyways.

10. record every minute i spend on facebook.
i hadn’t planned on actually committing to this, since that would mean i’d actually have to do it, and that scares me since i spend a LOT of time there, but i couldn’t stand not to have an even 10. so, i will be physically writing it down every time i get on and how long i was there for. whether i’m actually doing something quality(like writing substantial things on people’s walls for the purpose of keeping in touch, which is pretty much the point of facebook anyways), or mindlessly reading my news feed.
i’ve already been on for 27 minutes, and we aren’t even two hours into the year. this will probably be the most difficult one…