another day another dollar

Well today was a roller coaster. Up and down, but I think i ended up on top this time. Tomorrow is looking better, but I have taken steps to ensure my getting better.

As a side note, one of my commentators said that perhaps this was a hormonal shift rather than anything else. I disagree, as this has been going on for over a month now, plus I have been struggling with clinical depression for over 5 years now. For those of you who didn't know that, tah dah! I'm on a very light dosage of a generic antidepressant (basically zoloft), and take counseling when I feel I need it. This is a time where I feel it would be beneficial. Special thanks to a certain person who moved to Louisiana who knows who she is for helping me to pursue my demons when she was here. Furthermore I think counseling (since I get it for free at school...) is a good addition to any mental health mantra as its just one extra outlet. Like having a surge protector on your computer, just one extra way to prevent a major crash.

My frustrations the past week or so have simply been exacerbated by the absence of dear friends and the fact that I was so certain I had made leaps and bounds past the stage I am currently at. Last year was very challenging for me, but also very healing in the way that I conquered many of my body image issues and gained back the self confidence I had lost in the transition to the next stage in my life. This current 'backsliding' if you will infuriates me when I had worked so hard to surmount those roadblocks the first time. But I suppose the old addage must come into play, and I'll get back on the horse. Its when my own self-punishing nature comes into play that things become seemingly hopeless, for I conciously put myself away from anything pleasing or joyful merely to punish myself for my melancholy. This is my folly, one I find very hard not to feed. But I'm a work in progress, I suppose God intended it that way, else wise I most certainly wouldn't be me. And wouldn't that be a shame?

Onward friends, I must alert you to a horrifying bit of information. As some may know, I'm a closet anime fan. Well... alright, I'm not really closet at all. The point is I came upon a gruesome fan fiction the other day that was a crossover between Hannah Montana, Wizards of Waverly Place and Yu Yu Hakusho. This greatly alarmed me as I am quite the fan of the intrepid Spirit Detectives and to mix thier likes with that of ....bleh... disney channel... is too sinful for words. I implore all of my like minded compatriots to join with me in a giant outcry against distasteful fanfiction on all the web. Please, for the sake of the children...



Meanwhile, back at the ranch.... I've never really had the opportunity to write that phrase, you know? I'd like to let everyone know my opinion regarding Sarah Palin. I don't like her as a candidate. I have many reasons, in fact I wrote a whole paper on the subject, but mainly my personal opinion is that she is an atrocious public speaker and can't handle an interview with Katie Couric for land's sake! The woman stumbled though foreign policy as if foreign policy itself was constituted in her mind by the fact that she can see russia from her state on a clear day. Who cares?! She also kept falling back to her main points with little to no supporting evidence or examples. I'm picky, there are even professors I love to death whom I can't stand to watch speak because they have certain ticks that bother the heck out of me. For instance, one of my current professors in my cap class is absolutely brilliant, has a vocabulary that makes me drool (being the bibliophile I am). However, he has tha habit of peppering every other words with um or uh. Now, granted I'm not the best public speaker in the land by anymeans, but I can say it still greatly detracts from my attention.

However, the reason I'm not voting for McCain/Palin isn't because Palin sucks at interviews, no my friends, its for principles far deeper. Palin/McCain are against abortion in all cases, even in rape and incest. I am a strong believer in an individual's right to choose in such a personal matter. I don't believe any government should be able to take your control over your own body. I also don't believe the government has the right to decide whom a marriage can be between. Marriage is a matter of religion in my mind, and I think the only thing the government should be giving to ANYONE, two men, two women, one man one woman, hermaphrodites, whatever, is a civil union with whatever tax benefits are currently attached to the word marriage. It is not wrong to be gay, lesbian, bisexual, transexual etc. I think god cares for us all equally, and if you are so inclined to be attracted to someone who is not of the norm, so be it and god bless you for at least being who you are. It is those who are not true to themselves that irk the heck out of me. I also think that if McCain and Palin are going to invoke so much patriotism into thier speeches and such, they need to go back and look at what the framers of the constitution originally intended, and that was a small central government and states that do not rely on the federal government for every move. I also, after being involved with the IEA/NEA, various school districts and directly working with youth education in this state, cannot stand to have the No Child Left Behind Act continue to be upheld by a McCain/Palin administration. I have seen the havoc this has wrought on so many educators and resolve that should I ever end up in a position to speak out against more than I already have, I shall pursue it to no end.

Finally, I would like to address the idea of McCain/Palin as how myself and many of my affiliates feel. Bush to McCain would not be a change or reform in D.C. It would simply be a shift in who holds the reins. I see nothing but furthering the travails that our country has been involved in. I mourn now for the day they see election, for my rights will easily die with the sunrise.

I am an independant moderate, who thought she was a republican, until she saw the underbelly of republican politics in Illinois. I am a woman, young and true and idyllic in thought, hardened in the head, but not yet in the heart. I am a cynic, who hopes against hope. I am innocent, and wish to fight as such until corruption swallows me up, despite the teasing and catcalls of an older, more seasoned generation. I am inexperienced and unknowing but aware of what I lack.

Thus, I am forever yours,


The Lady in Black

very very very very depressed

have no idea why

stay far far away from me please

what scares me most is there is no reasoning for this, it came on so fast and I don't know why. Nothing has happened, by all rights I should be happy, but I am somewhere between wanting to hurt myself and cry. I laid in bed for over 8 hours today waiting for a phone call I knew wasn't going to come.

One half of me can think rationally, the other half is completely controlled by my emotions, it is rash, often violent and quick to see-saw between absolute despair and total, unchecked rage. My self-punishing nature is in full force.

The people I love, stay far away from me. I am much too unstable right now.

Blah blah blah...

So....
hmm....

nothing unusual to report.


Today was rainy... might have a job soon... tired...






oh and uh.... I heart my ninja! :)

Scarily accurate Numerology thingamabob on my name... (Just for kicks...)

Rebecca Jo Luke

There are 13 letters in your name.
Those 13 letters total to 48
There are 6 vowels and 7 consonants in your name.

What your first name means:

Hebrew

Female

Variant of Rebekah: Captivating; knotted cord.

Your number is: 3

The characteristics of #3 are: Expression, verbalization, socialization, the arts, the joy of living.

The expression or destiny for #3:
An Expression of 3 produces a quest for destiny with words along a variety of lines that may include writing, speaking, singing, acting or teaching; our entertainers, writers, litigators, teachers, salesmen, and composers. You also have the destiny to sell yourself or sell just about any product that comes along. You are imaginative in your presentation, and you may have creative talents in the arts, although these are more likely to be latent. You are an optimistic person that seems ever enthusiastic about life and living. You are friendly, loving and social, and people like you because you are charming and such a good conversationalist. Your ability to communicate may often inspire others. It is your role in life to inspire and motivate; to raise the spirits of those around you.

The negative side of number 3 Expression is superficiality. You may tend to scatter your forces and simply be too easygoing. It is advisable for the negative 3 to avoid dwelling on trivial matters, especially gossip.

Your Soul Urge number is: 7

A Soul Urge number of 7 means:
With a number 7 Soul Urge you are very fond of reading, and retreating to periods of being alone and away from the disruptions of the outer world. You like to dream and develop you idealistic understandings, to study and analyze, to gain knowledge and wisdom. You may be too laid back and withdrawn to really succeed in the business world, and you will be much more comfortable in circumstances that are tolerant of your reserve, your analytical approach, and your desire to use your mind rather than your physical being.

You are very timid around people that you don't know very well, so much so at times that casual conversation and social situations can be strained. You tend to repress your emotions to the extend that some people have a good bit of difficult understanding you. You tend to be very selective with friends and you don't easily adapt to new environments or to new people very quickly.

The negative traits of the 7 include becoming too much the introvert and isolated from others.

Your Inner Dream number is: 5

An Inner Dream number of 5 means:
You dream of being totally free and unrestrained by responsibility. You see yourself conversing and mingling with the natives in many nations, living for adventure and life experiences. You imagine what you might accomplished.

Rough draft of an epiphany snatched out of the dusty dirty air onboard a school bus full of screaming children.

So, I must relate the reasonings of this blog. I work at a children's summer activity day camp. I deal with children daily and am pretty much used to all they can come up with. However, this morning I walked in and was told two parents had been in and were seriously concerned due to the fact that two of our campers had been involved in sexually harassing other children. The incident that was related to me that most concerned me was that a younger child (about 5 years old) had heard two fourth grade boys talking about raping a girl. The younger child went home and asked his parents what the word 'rape' meant. Needless to say this a very serious situation. These two boys are basically brainwashed. They say that sports are for 'wussies' and that guns, knives and violence are cool. They are very knowledgeable about wars, but also think that everyone from the middle east is a terrorist and that if you are not a republican you are a bad person. So most of my day was spent brooding over the future of my youthful charges and whether they would care about changing our world for the better. Now those who know me best (Though you be few in number) know that when I become this pensive I often turn back to my roots as a writer . Today was no different. So in the back of a bus in a haze of children's voices, asphalt dust and afternoon rays I penned these few lines. True, tis awfully rough draft, and somewhat 'corny' but what do you expect? All I had to look at was cornfields anyway...

Man of the street
Living in a box with nothing to eat
Asks a rich man walking by:
Could you spare a quarter
for a man a little poorer
than yourself?
Times are tough
The world is rough
Can you feel what I'm saying man?
I'm down on my luck.

Rich man walks on by
So secure in his mind:

I wouldn't know
Wouldn't know
The state of things from down below
I've got a house on a hill, money in the bank
a six-figure pay check and gas in the tank.
Sure your life is unfair,
but tell me mister, why should I care?

In a far away country
On the edge of the sea
Same rich man
on a different street
watches a mother and daughter in a bakery.
As he starts to pay his fee
the woman grabs his hand
and voices her plea:

I never had a chance
Not for a sec
Denied an education
because of my sex.
I can't learn so I can't earn.
And I'll never be free.
But I look at my daughter
and in her I see
the hope of my nation
Do you know what I mean?

The rich man can only shake his head.

I wouldn't know.
Wouldn't know
The state of things from down below.
I've got a house on a hill and money in the bank,
an education from Harvard and gas in the tank.
You say your life is unfair,
But tell me miss, why should I care?

Same rich man, same business trip.
Spots a skinny little boy with blood on his knees

The boy runs up and begs for money as he cries:

My mother has too many mouths to feed

So I must dig through the trash

To find something to eat.

My belly is empty and I’m so hungry,

Please sir, can you help me?

The rich man shrugs:

I wouldn’t know

Wouldn’t know.

The state of things from down below,

I’ve got a house on a hill and money in the bank

Food on my table and gas in my tank.

You say your life is unfair,

But tell me little boy, why should I care?

Different man on a different street,

Sees a little girl so shy and sweet

Decides to ask her if she believes in love

She answers:

I wouldn’t know

Wouldn’t know

My daddy lives in this house on a hill.
He’s addicted to money

As my mother is to pills.

Love’s just something

I hear in fairy tales.

So I couldn’t tell you mister

I just wouldn’t know.

Someone else's writing from a Runner's World discussion board post..

This was posted on Runner's World.com discussion board. This post spoke to me and completely reflects some advice I was recently given. I wish to share it so that others who also posses this 'disease' may be cured. You have no idea what it is like to equate worth with beauty and the havoc it wreaks upon your mind until you have run until you have bled, beaten yourself for doing your best and felt shame for allowing tears to fall when you are hurt. I say a prayer for all of us who suffer from ourselves, our society and the fear and pain projected onto us simply because we are not perfect.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

One of my close friends is walking precariously close to the edge and I am afraid that any warning I shout or any abrupt move I make to reach out to her will startle her and cause her to tumble.

My friend is one of those girls. By this, I mean she is so startlingly beautiful that people do a double take just to make sure they don't know her from some magazine. She is fit (a great runner) and sexy and fresh and stunning. She stands out in a crowd. Usually women like this are off-putting to other women, that old jealousy thing, but something about my friend makes her beauty a magnet instead of repellent. Initially it might be a bizarre form of curiosity, like, is this woman really equally pretty on the inside? Once you realize that her beauty goes all the way through, curiosity turns into comfort and there you are. Lucky to be in her good company.

Except for one, hopefully short-lived, problem.

She doesn't see herself this way. Someone said something negative to her that should have come off in the wash, but it stuck. It somehow set off a chain reaction of other long-buried mines of doubt and delusion. And now it's like someone has replaced her mirror with a circus fun house mirror and she can't see anything clearly anymore.

Everyone can relate. It's like the sad hostility, the PMS feeling of trying on ten different things while trying to get ready to go somewhere, all of them insufficient and stifling. Everything feels unflattering, but the only useful thing to change is our perspective, not our outfit. But no one can hear that when they are in their closet with their clothes in a heap, clock ticking, time to go or else be late.

I run with my friend, listen to her, pray with her, pray for her. But I can't make her see herself the way everyone else sees her, especially God. Why do we do this with our beauty? We stuff it, warp it, minimize it, starve it, berate it, and then wonder where it goes. I know that she will one day be a 70 year old woman who comes across a photograph of herself from this era and she will weep as though seeing this woman for the very first time. She will weep for time lost, for days spent worrying about nothing and time spent chasing something that she possessed all along.

And so here I stand, on the periphery of my friend's sadness. I wish I could use my creativity for her healing...paint her, sketch her, describe her with words, illuminate her from the inside out, so that she could finally see. Or run with her, so far and so fast that everything false would be burned as fuel.

Our culture breeds such insecurity, it runs rampant across our femininty, taking hostages in its wake. Let's run counter to it, circle 'round the other way, surprise it, take our people back.

Perfection is overrated. It's a difficult thing for a perfectionist to say, especially when you look at yourself in the mirror and can't find anything beautiful or lovely about yourself. It's a war waged daily, the struggle to confirm we are worth something, anything at all. Truth is, lame as it sounds, the only weapon to combat such a battle is to look at ourselves and past those around us. Love who you are, and others will love you back. It may take a while to find the right people to love you, but they're out there alright. They're out there.



See you later Space Cowboy....


Lady in Black

A good day.

I am mildly content right now. Tis a very nice feeling to know that you are 'kinda a big deal' to certain individuals on this earth. I enjoy just having fun occasionally. It's very nice indeed.

Yesterday I had a grand time with a certain ninja guitarist who shall remain nameless. We hiked in Lincoln Memorial Gardens for a good part of the morning. I love hiking, but unfortunately this meant we had to stay on these little trail/path things, which rather defeats the purpose of exploring, but oh well. Following this, we went to Starbucks where we witnessed a man of intriguing raiment. This gentleman of four and twenty was dressed in a black t-shirt with a construction company logo, tight blue jean capris with a clip on chain that stretched past his knee, a backwards baseball cap crested with white preppy girl's sunglasses and to top it all off, the piece de resistance, bright pink crocs. This man may have been very nice, but his attire was very humorous to my companion and I.

The rest of the day was filled with sitting in the rose garden at Washington Park beneath a large tree listening to the deftly woven threads of music that emanated from guitar and voice of my charming consort. I haven't the foggiest how much time was spent on a park bench just chatting or joking. But I am sure I do not care anyway. After all, deep conversation is most entertaining when it comes from the wood scented lusty melody of an afternoon fading into dusk.

Today my day was spent wrangling 35 head of children ranging in ages from calves to half grown cattle. Feeding and occupying such a range of ages is often difficult to do, and very tiresome if one doesn't have the patience. I normally posses such patience, but sometimes this store can be exhausted by the infidels of the playground: tiny terrorists who are repeat offenders before my bench. Fortunately one of the heads of this terrorist cell is off to Church camp tomorrow, meaning that the attacks of hitting, kicking, tattling and throwing rocks shall subside for now.


Alas, tis time for me to part dear reader. I am on a mission to obtain a 'rockin' little body' so I can run in the Turkey Trot 5k this fall. So I must go out and train, as well as procure vittles.





See you space cowboy...

Well, there goes the ball game...

Things I have (re)discovered since being home:

• I have no privacy
• Things don't change
• Always remember to be on your toes
• You MUST have a reason for anything you do. (I.e., Going somewhere, wanting something, doing anything etc.)
• People don't give a care
• Money is all that matters.

I feel like an absolute convenience case, and I hate being isolated, which is what I am again.

This sucks.



Now, for a slightly positive praise:


Thank goodness for slightly more regular sleep and food. I still have trouble sleeping, but I am back to my usual grazing. I eat little bits throughout the day rather than sit down and eat a full meal. Some say its better to eat that way, my mother frowns on it. Oh well.

The bad news is I fear for my weight now more than ever. I think about my weight a lot. Trying to maintain it at a healthy level is a constant worry.

Also on the brightside is that I have a job that is supposed to give me about 40 hours a week now. However, though I was considering getting another job, my mother is really pushing me to get a job for weekends or nights. I was already considering this, but I feel indignant at this coercion. I've never been anything but hardworking and 'picking up a few extra hours' for me will more than likely mean further isolating me from any semblance of a social life. I feel like that my life is meant to be comprised of work and school and that is it. Perhaps so...

Nonetheless, I am going to find my own way, or at least try to. I don't care if i struggle, that's what makes life worth while.



Dear Lord, thank you for the good, the bad and the in-between. Because without it Lord, life would just be so boring.








Cheers mate,


Your Lady in Black

So....


Do you know what happens when you mix bleach and ammonia?


...

.....
...........



Don't try it.

I feel neglected, used, like a piece of trash. I despise this.

I want to push away people I know care about me very much, but my mind continues to think of all the ways they could hate me and hurt me.

I am an object, something to be used and thrown away.

I don't want to be around anybody, I want them to go away and leave me alone to hurt by myself in my room in the dark. I just crawl into the farthest corner of my bed and turn off all the lights and pretend someone is there to hug me and take care of me. But no one's really there.

And no one wants to be around someone who is always negative and depressed. But I can't stop it, and I refuse to continue constructing artificial happiness. I hate that more than I hate anything, the fake happiness.

I want to know what I've done wrong. I know I'm very sorry for what I've done, I must be if this is my punishment. I'm tired of waking up almost screaming or on the edge of tears I don't dare ever let fall. I'm tired of being strong all the time, of being on top of things. Can't someone else be the hope please? If only just for a little while?






love in return, that is all that I ask... - Labeau

Overflowing Random Praise

God is amazing. He gave me:

• incredible friends

• the gift of life (cause one without the other is just no fun)

• an extraordinary boyfriend/ninja/guitarist
• spectacular speaking and writing skills
• love of leadership and service
• a sense of honor
• an affection for learning
• really cool, albeit strange, blue eyes
• a fully functional, awesome fleshy thing they call a body
• scholarships. Enough said.
• Ability to live on my own
• the ability to care about other people and their happiness
• Challenges to keep me interested
• books. Again, enough said.
  
• good, conventional, conservative taste in fashion.
  
• a job/money
• admiration of young and old
  
• Ability to rise above all challenges
• emotional and mental maturity
• Concern for all humanity
• good health
• access to the internet and a laptop!!!
• Indiana Jones
• 4-H
• light
• darkness
• birds at evening
• soft, warm blankets
• Road trips
• rainy afternoons
• flashlight tag at dusk
• State Fair days... enough said.
  
• NASCAR
  
• 
  

I can't list everything... cause I'm thankful for everything.

The good, the bad and the inbetween.... cause goodness, otherwise life would be so boring!




amen, amen... baby, amen!





See you later Space Cowboy

Menu for a Picnic

When I was younger, I used to day dream about planning grand parties or gala events. I am a bit of a little organizer I'm afraid, and it was always fun to do when I wasn't questing for Aztec gold or playing Lieutenant in an underground federation of government rebels in my backyard.

I would often sit thinking about the sort of dishes I would serve or the decor or the guest list or the occasion itself. I've always been fond of formal events (not proms or dances like in High School, bleh... those aren't formal at all...). I enjoy awards dinners, and would have loved being a debutante or some such. I guess I like the pomp and circumstance of it all.... well that and the fact that I own some very elegant clothing I hardly ever get to wear and I often crave an excuse. I'll admit, dressing up in some classy black or red dress or even business wear makes me feel much better about my body image. Why? Well... It definitely gives me an air of extra confidence, expertise and authority along with the fact that I don't look half bad at all if I do say so myself.

But I suppose I'm getting off track. You see it's simply such beautiful weather I have the strong urge to make a picnic dinner for my friends. I know exactly what I'd make too. I have this strange domesticity to me, you see. I can sew, cook, clean and get just about any stain you mention out of your clothing. My mother combined with my experience in the 4-H program has taught me much about the culinary arts, not to mention the fact that my father hunts and I can prepare most game you care to mention. So for sure I'd make some honey chicken tenders, made in the oven but they taste like they've been fried because of the trick of adding 1/4 cup of vegetable oil to the breading. The breading itself is actually cornflakes, Italian bread crumbs and 2 tablespoons of honey. To go with that, I'd make my Aunt Hazel's clover leaf rolls (Shameless 4-H symbolism...) that are so fluffy and light its nearly a crime to put any butter on them, not that you'd want to anyway. Then I'd have havarti, amish cheddar (the only way to go), edam and gouda cheese with pieces of venison summer sausage set out with grape tomatoes and olives (black of course, who eats the green ones? Ick..) for people to just take as they please. Now, I also have a great fondness for spring greens in my salad. Baby spinach is good and all... but nothing can beat lots of baby argulua, baby butter lettuces, endive, radicchio with the off brand low fat italian dressing from Shop n' Save...mmmmmmmmm.... Don't ask. For dessert... well... I'm always partial to jonathon apples and loads of fresh apricots, grapes and cherry tomatoes (for my guests, I abhor tomatoes personally...) Of course, for those who prefer something with a little more weight to it.... I will of course provide my mother's famed devil's food creme cupcakes.

But where to have a picnic? Well, about two years ago my 4-H club went tubing on Lake Springfield (for those of you aqquainted with the... toxicity of our lovely local lake, ... you may understand the apprehension in such an act...) and had a picnic lunch. It was my first time ever swimming in a lake and my first time ever going tubing. It was very enjoyable, but I especially enjoyed the spot we had because there were many trees, a little point that jutted out into the water really. You could walk out onto the tip of the peninsula and look down and tell how deep it was from the dark color of the water. It would have been nice to go fishing too.

I would like very much to gather all those I consider a friend and give them a splendid picnic in this nice weather. I would like to feed them good food, play around until it gets dark and then jam on guitar around the fire at dusk.

That's so cliched.... good lord. But truth is, I haven't been able to do that much at all... in fact I can count the occasions where I've done such a thing on one finger. But I love doing things for people, and dash it all, that would be fun! Of course, it's no Charity Ball, or awards dinner, or business luncheon I like to dress up for on occasion, but I can honestly say it'd be just as memorable.


Feeding people is an amazing thing. The U.N sends food to third world countries and disaster zones all the time. Something about food is a bonding experience. That someone else, could give you something good to eat, merely because they wish to further strengthen and honor the bond they have with you. In the case of the U.N., that bond is the bond of a brotherhood of human beings(Mind you, that's a highly idealized reasoning). The desire to see someone else, simply because you share the same blood and bone beneath all that flesh of different color or mind of different thought. The dinner table is the great equalizer. Where all can come together and be filled, physically and mentally.

I have great admiration for the Chinese people. They never ask "How are you?" They ask "Fàn chī guò le ma? " which translates as "Have you eaten?" They want to know if you've eaten, so they can feed you more if they can. Food = happiness in many countries where food is scarce. And because of this, all the food is put in the middle of the table and shared. Shared sustenance and shared happiness, shared thoughts over food: politics, news of the day, musings and ideas.

I wonder if we made all the people in power, no matter whether it be government or a business or, heck... even school boards (!) I wonder if we made them eat dinner together while they hold their meetings if that would improve the communication or level of empathy between sides. Hmm... what if they held trials during dinner? Wow... the defense would always win if the defendant and his lawyer were talking to the jury while they were eating dessert... Just kidding!


Well I suppose that's enough musing for today. If you can't tell I was a little hungry while writing this myself, so I think it's time for some pretzels or something to tide me over.


Hey, Hey good lookin'
What ya got cookin'?
How's about cookin' something up with me?




See you later Space Cowboy...

I wonder what the birds sound like somewhere else, in other countries. I love the birds of evening here. My home shall always be Illinois, the plowed earth against the hues of an evening sky: orange, shades of magenta and deep purple fading. Black trees against a midnight blue in the distance as I hear my familiar midwestern birds. The black capped chickadees have thier strange phoebe call and my mourning doves of the late evening with their lovely cooing. Then there is the crackling caw of my big burly guardians in the murders of crows hanging about the fields. The great lilting honk that rises in an almost questioning tone if you listen long enough comes from the Greater Canadian geese found throughout campus and the field hunts of my childhood. But also in the evening you have the wonderful fiesty fighting sounds of twittering juncos that always make me feel like I could go on an adventure in the woods. Perhaps I could become Sam Gribley once again and find a great old hemlock tree to live in, eh? That would be the life... I've always wanted a pet falcon.

Speaking of birds of prey, there happen to be two or three owls that live on campus, as you can tell because the trees are 'whitewashed' where they have been roosting. Plus it is always easy to tell an owl call (especially the widespread Great Horned Owl) by the always recognizable 'hoooo...hooo". If we had barned owls it would scare the bejeezies out of you because it is a screeching call like some demonized dragon in minature form... right scary sounding it is if you aren't expecting it.


Well... I'll continue my discourse on birds later... but I do wonder....


what does evening sound like somewhere else?

My Prewriting for my CAP Interdisciplinary Research Project.

*Warning!* The following prewriting is inherently unorganized, random and may be offensive to some readers. DO NOT attempt to read thinking there is some point.


START:

So immediately when I saw this paragraph from the prompt :

Assignment Description:

This linked project has several parts which will span the final weeks of the course. The Interdisciplinary Research Project (IRP) is a collaborative assignment on a selected theme from the topics in CAP 121. Based on your research topic and interests, you will be teamed with 2-3 colleagues with which you will work closely for the remainder of the semester. The class schedule details the time allotted for each phase of the project. In selecting a research topic, consider what you have learned about the Multiculturalism and its influence on American culture, politics, and values. Here is a list of broad themes to guide you in choosing a topic:

Immigration and Assimilation

Media and Cultural Representations

Belief and Spirituality

Gender and Sexuality

The last part grabbed me and said… ohhh… you could go for broke and really ask some solid questions about sexuality since we dealt with it earlier in the class when reading the Toni Morrison novel. You could ask what is the concept of virginity look like in America today? And what is its meaning and value? What is it that historically makes it wrong for women not to be virgins but men shouldn’t be ones. And what about what is virginity and how the term has changed. Then you could turn that around and ask those questions of African American females and how that affects their 'worth' in society, considered they already have two strikes of being 'black' and 'female'....

Orrrrr… if I didn’t totally want to go for shock and awe considering I do have to make a presentation on this and I may not want to be that gutsy, I could always go for the Belief and Spirituality card by asking questions like (and since I am ‘highly encouraged’ but not required to connect this to my previous assignments *grroowwwlll*) …. Lost it.. stupid distracting side discussions in class...

Ok… so what about looking at the multiculturalism of Barack Obama (Half black/half white anybody?) and seeing how that affects his popularity between whites and blacks in his voting base…. Plus the fact that he has Hussien in his name… that whole thing… and he’s a Christian… he’s one walking contradiction. Charming man though, god love him…he claims he’s not too many years far removed from middle class America as he and his wife were once struggling law students themselves… not long off at least… but I feel that excuse dosen’t cut it because of the fact that true middle/working class Americans mostly haven’t gone to college, let alone law school…. Difference there that’s huge… but whatever.. Oh... and there's the fact that he was raised by his white grandmother... how did that atmosphere/environment affect how he is seen by black voters?

Multiculturalism and its influence on American culture, politics, and values.:

Straight from the prompt… hmm.. You know I really think Barack could be an icon for that statement, use him as a magnifying glass...but perhaps not…it’s so clichéd….and I do hate being clichéd… But then.. I suppose a lot of people could be used in a similar fashion to look at such an idea…

They want me to use the image I used for my VRA to continue where I’m going with this project… ick.. no fun… don’t want to do it! Bill Bojangles Robinson and African American Film History doesn’t speak multiculturalism to me... I suppose it could... but I'm not feeling it right now. I feel like I could do more with this.

"Constructed Blackness"

8 Mile: Main character is more accepted among black community than white community. But then that cannot be argued in a way because of the ‘White Trash’ moniker

Malcolm x

Spike Lee’s Bamboozled.

School Days Spike Lee’s

The Boondocks

Is Black race…. Or is it a ‘state of mind’? Is Black how you act, how you talk, how you dress,etc. or is it your history, the color of your skin, your ancestry?

How white males construct ‘blackness’ in order to confirm their manhood.

Look at sales of ‘rap brands’ i.e. music, clothing etc. and sales in suburbia or to white consumers

Ex. Eminem is more black than some actual ‘black’ people I know.

Black individuals ‘acting white’ and their acceptance in the black community.

And that folks is my prewriting thus far...


Special thanks to one very cool and talented former Professor for his advice and help in locating sources and giving some much needed life to my ideas for my CAP project... You are incredibly helpful and I bow before thy greatness.



See you later Space Cowboy...

I need to get out of my house.

I need to get out of my house. Spring break has simply proven once again that I need only spend a few days, let alone hours with my family before I start to regress from confident individual to subservient daughter once again. I'm tired of this. I'm sincerely thinking of getting an apartment on campus from June 1 to July 29 according to housing contracts. By the time that contract would be up I would be living on the fair grounds anyway in time for state fair and after State Fair I would return to live in the new dorms (grrr). One thing is for sure however, when I wake up this morning and start asking questions in my head again (Why can't you be in a good mood for once? Why do you have to guilt me into everything? Why can't you trust me? Why can't you be kind to one another? Why do you have to make me feel bad about my body?) That's when I realized, you were right. When I'm away, I try to pretend its ok. That its no big deal: they are my family and I need time with them. That's true. But not enough time to make me regress to less and more unstable of a person than I was before. That's what Spring Break has done, and this is getting ridiculous. I won't stand for insults, I won't stand for this ridicule and I'm tired of my views meaning nothing unless they agree with what is standard in this house. I won't do it any longer. I've never done anything wrong, I've always been very good. My wall is literally, littered with awards, I'm paying for college on my own, and I always do as I'm told. Well now I'm realizing that quite a bit of my obedience to my family is what has me unhappy. Because what makes me happy is markedly different from what makes each of them happy.

So I'm going to try. Because I'm tired of being this way: sad, self-concious, sometimes lonely and sometimes violent on myself. I honestly do want to get better and be happy. I just have to stick with my choices, be bold and deal with what heck comes down on me as a result.


Carry on.


See you Space Cowboy....

WHAT THE HECK? (And random attempt to add photo to blog)

Alright, as some of you may know I have had many struggles with my weight and nutrition recently. College is not a place where it is easy to be healthy, even for a 'somewhat health nut' like me. Roughly 3 minutes ago I just weighed myself and found myself to be 123.6 pounds. I try to weigh myself every week or every other week. Last time I weighed myself I was 129 pounds. A while back I went from weighing 125 to 121 in about 3 days. I know its normal for a person's weight to fluctuate and all, especially women, but this is just getting ridiculous. I eat like a bird when I do eat, can't focus well and have become mildly dehydrated which means its hard for me to wear contacts and after I work out I usually end up vomiting any water I have drank. Plus I am trying very hard to get myself rehydrated again and its just not happening that fast, if at all.

I am taking 17 credit hours this semester and I took 18 credit hours last semester. I think this overloading on top of all of what I am already involved in and committed to in my life has me very stressed, unable to focus and produce the quality of work I am famous for, and has definetly affected my health. Now, since neither of my parents went to college and I had no idea what to expect coming into the University, you'd think my advisor would help me out.

Uh-Uh.

I got nothing from my advisor. A sheet of paper and was told to pick out classes from here and here. That helped a lot.....*sarcasm*. If someone had told me what was normal for a class load would have helped. I was under the impression that because I am an honors student it is expected to take the full load. Apparently not. I'm just seriously disappointed with my experiences thus far and am mortified I might lose my scholarship from CAP. I'm getting two tutors, one for spanish and another for math, but they cannot meet with me until after midterms. I've been trying to study more, but between trying to get to class, doctor appointments, taking care of things at home, homework, doing laundry and keeping things picked up, my commitments with U of I Extension, finding time to eat, finding a way to sleep in this forsaken little white box of death they call a dorm room, I'm having a tough time. If I could get into a town house or apartment I would, unfortunately CAP Honors makes me stay in this place another semester.

*Sigh*


Complaining brought to you courtesy of my big fat mouth...


I've just got to keep trooping along I guess and pray for the best. Thankfully I know that God and good friends always have my back.


See you Space Cowboy...





Oh, and okay..... this is a special announcement made just for a certain person who knows who he is: I, the Lady in Black, do confess that I am not really politically conservative. I am actually more moderate with leftist leanings and fiscal conservatism. Happy? .... yeah.... I know you're smiling.... and you can just stop that right now......

I think I'm going crazy seriously. To stand to look at oneself is an amazing feat so few can attest to truly accomplishing.

Writing in college? No... not really...

The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun. - Ecclesiastes 1:9

Ah, how sad it is that this verse rings true. I am working on my 'Writing in Discipline' paper for CAP and I am continually given the advice to 'paraphrase' my sources and it just seems to me that all these silly papers do is make us paraphrase. Where is the new ideas? The fresh look, the gathering evidence to come to our own conclusions at? It's like a book report for land's sakes! I want to know what is the point of college writing if it seems like all we do is research and never present an actual valid, original viewpoint. I see none of this. When do the CAP students stop writing book reports and start actually writing?


If I sound frustrated, it is because I am.

There truly is no new thing under the sun, but even more so in college writing. We are simply reproducing and representing works others have already done, and done much better may I add. *sigh* Give me research to do, give me a history or a bookreport or an overview to do if you want me to. But DO NOT call it writing, darn it. Don't call it that, because that's not what it is. It's regurgitating information that has existed, will exist and continues to exist... how blase...






*sits in corner hugging knees rocking back and forth*

"Hug me."




See you Space Cowboy...

Some old roleplaying stuff.... the introduction of a character I loved...

So this is some old role playing I did with a couple friends from National 4-H Congress. I was inspired/challenged to play a villain on an RPG board. Here's the background for the story:

The Story

After years of pollution, all life on Earth was either forced underground or died. Running low on all life support supplies, humanity gathered together what they could, and in a desparate attempt to stay alive, fled the planet in a single, great ship.

After crashlanding on an eerily Earth-like planet, the remaining population stayed together for survival. But, as humans are, they refused to give up the technology they had.

Over the years, the population spread, building new and greater cities. Brilliant minds duplicated and improved the technology brought from Earth, making high tech life-support and super-food - and weapons as well. And humanity, too busy with themselves, overlooked everything else.

Hidden away, there were other things. From Earth, things had hidden on the ship, mutations and ancient life forms. On the new planet, other things had lived for ages, and now watched. Things humanity had thought only to be in storybooks.

How wrong they were.

Some of humanity has realized they aren't alone. But most won't believe that things are creeping in...

Information

Centuries have past since the crash, long enough that Earth is now no more than a tale of old. Unlike in the past, humanity is not reaching skyward, but focusing instead on those places they have colonized. Despite the years, most of the planet remains uncharted, though recent decades have brought about explorers - many of whom disapear, and are forgotten.

Numerous other races exist, most out somewhere in the wilderness, some walking about the cities like any human would. Many have their own ways, and their own technologies, but it is mostly humans who push the mass use of machinery.

Now here's the part I wrote :



Atlantis. The city of dreams. The city of peace. A peaceful life, where all could grow and prosper without the hanging tide of gluttony and greed that had swept the planet. Freedom. Prosperity. Safety for all who cross its threshold.

How quaint.

Michael wore a tiny grin behind his menu. He was sitting in a classy French restaurant that was frequented by the well-to-do of the city. Watching the other patrons as they dined in the soft light of candles, he was thinking about what had this city all abuzz. Atlantis. His smug grin grew wider at the thought of it. Atlantis was supposed to be a place of sanctuary for all non-humans, a place of rebirth for thier races so that they may live in thier own city in peace with the new human race. He scoffed mentally at this idea.


Really. Such fools. How could it be possible to live peacfully with such... vermin. Without their precious machines, thier command of their digital aresnals, humans would fall so easily...

The soft glows of the candles glittered off the silverware on the immaculate white table cloth and seemed to accent the tender strains of a piano in the background. Michael looked to the night sky through the glass next to him. The stars seemed so dim with all the smog and trash those vermin had produced. But soon all this would come to an end. Atlantis would come to be, but it would be under HIS command. A place of peace, indeed, but only after eliminating the competition.

The piano music seemed to fade as the blood pounded through Michael's ears. The plan would work yes... the ancient ways were still alive.... and the humans had forgotten what little they knew of the true sciences. The sciences of the elements, the alchemy that would soon shut down thier world. Yes. A blight would fall upon the human race, and the ancient races would once again rule the planet.

The city of Atlantis will be consencrated with the blood of humans...

Michael calmed as the waiter walked up, and flashed him a classic friendly smile.

"Sir, what is your pleasure for this evening?"

"The braised scallops and julliened garden vegetables." Michael answered, scanning the menu languidly.

"Very good sir, and to drink?"

"I believe a bordeaux is in order, I am celebrating a recent business victory."

"Yes, sir. Congratulations sir. I'll have it brought right to your table."

The waiter scurried off, leaving Michael eyeing the man's jugular with heavy lidded eyes. He could almost taste the man's blood, and yet he must eat like the other patrons to keep up appearances. Michael sighed and watched the stars. The waiter's blood would not satisfy him, anyway. He was like all the other humans on this planet, a mixed breed. One who was a descendant of the true humans from earth that had interbred with the strikingly brilliant and human-like inhabitants of this new planet they had colonized. No, the waiter's blood would be bland, not with the exciting metallic taste that a TRUE human's blood had. It was a true human that he must use to create his atlantis, this Michale knew... for otherwise, his kingdom would fall as fast as he would create it.

"Your wine, sir." The waiter had returned, carrying a chilled bottle of red bourdeax in a white towel. The waiter showed Michael the label before being given a nod to uncork the bottle and pour the man a glass of the wine.

"Will that be all sir?" the waiter asked, as Michael sipped a taste from the wineglass.

"Yes, thank you." Michael said, barely lifting his eyes. The waiter nodded and scuttled off. Michael stared at the wine in his glass for a moment through heavy lidded eyes.

Red. Blood red. Like the streets of my city will be when I use the blood of a human to purify this world.

He stared out into the starry night sky again, and began to contemplate the waxing moon. But where was Michael to find a full-blooded human? Not one of these mixed breed mutts that were only slightly better than the original vermin. His plan would not work without the proper... ingredients.

The moon was waxing. Soon it would be full, and his plan could begin. His needed human blood was near, young and fresh. He had even used his alchemical knowledge to pluck it from times gone by.

A black bird flew by the window, bringing Michael out of his reverie. There were others, he knew. Searching for his city, and what they thought it should be. But he would decieve them until it was too late. Until they were already citizens of his realm, and it was too late to escape. Too late for so many of the vermin.

Michael sipped his red wine, staring at the moon.

The time is near...

He gave a fanged grin to the luminous orb above him, and prepared to leave.[/i]

A discourse on public speaking

“The Emiquon Project near Havana, Illinois is the largest wetlands restoration project since the Florida Everglades. It should be noticed that the nearby Chataka…that is, the nearby Chautauqua Wildlife Reserve…”

The harsh lights shine down on me as I grip the black lectern like a lifeline. I stand stock still in a momentary mortification of my mispronunciation. This must be what a deer in the headlights feels likes: caught in a situation that could cost it everything. I can feel a single bead of sweat roll down my face as I realize my faux pas. Shocked at my own mistake, I race through the rest of my notes as my mouth trips even more and my voice becomes garbled.

It was one mistake that began the crumble. During an important public speaking competition at the State Fair, I stumbled over my words and sped through the rest of the speech. For months now, I had slaved over, scrutinized, written and rewritten my material and now all seemed in vain. I am a perfectionist by nature, and such an amateur mistake for a two-year competitor was disgraceful. Shamefully, I exited the stage sure that I had failed and ruined any chance I had had for the coveted title of Champion. Later in the day, I received the remarks my judge had written during the discourse of my presentation. The most prominent was this: “Come out from behind the podium. You hide yourself back there. You started out so well, but lost all your confidence once you started to speed up. Slow down, and be confident. You are in control.”

I remember staring at the words for several minutes; it seemed both an edict of death and an issued challenge. It was true: I had failed to garner the title of Champion. However this wasn’t the end. I would be back next year, and I would be ready to conquer. Before anything was to happen, though, I would need to learn to be more comfortable on stage.

At first, I paced like a caged wild animal, unable to master the artful glide of a true master orator. My motions were erratic and nervous without the hulk of a lectern or podium to shield me from the obtrusive gaze of my listeners. During this time of dissatisfaction with my own performance, I looked at professional speakers such as Josh Shipp, Byron Garrett, and Keith Patterson to study their own techniques in order to develop a style all my own. Gradually, I began to fall into the rhythm of speaking. I kept at an even pace and learned to match my emotions with my tone of voice and rate of movement. I honed my skills by taking a course at a local college and continued to test myself by speaking in front of audiences large and small. Finally, I deemed myself ready to once again compete.

A deep breath. I take a single moment to calm my heartbeat before launching out into the unknown. Eyes of the untamable audience stare back at me as I rise from my seat to take center stage. It is fearful exhilaration that I feel as I loose a tumultuous jig of words, painting emotion and fact upon the hearts of my listeners. Their ears belong to me, their eyes are fixed upon my figure as I look straight back at them, pausing a moment to let my words sink even deeper before plunging home the harpoon of my purpose. I combine poise with passion. I am in control as I leave my spectators with one last jewel of knowledge and glance of finality as the applause follows me down from the spotlight.

How corny can I be? I can be cornier... trust me... this was an essay I used for a writing portfolio, its so crappy... stupid word limits....

What was I thinking? My entrance essay for UIS CAP Scholars....

As a rapid-fire intellectual and an individual of deep convictions, my educational and professional futures have always been of great concern. Throughout the years I have endeavored to participate in activities and events that have helped me to grow as a leader and scholar so that I may become a more informed and accomplished student. In selecting my career path, I wish not only to excel, but also to have the chance to continue to use the skills that I have cultivated. Thus, it is my desire to pursue a major in the area of legal studies in order to fully take advantage of these leadership skills and my proficiency in communicating my ideas through the spoken and written word.

However, this is not to say legal studies are the only area of education I wish to receive.

Rather, I would like to engage in discussion and inquiries in various other subjects as well. I fancy myself a bit of a ‘renaissance’ woman. I have always tried to be a very well rounded individual by pursing opportunities and interests in a wide variety of areas. These interests have included everything from Civil War history to clay sculpting, running to ballroom dancing, poetry to the culinary arts, civil engineering, environmental issues and beyond. Perhaps this is why I have often found myself contemplating the Capital Honors Scholar’s Program. This program offers me a chance to have a broad understanding of the world around me while still pursuing the core elements of a legal studies major. I find the collaborative learning environment offered by the CAP Scholar’s Program both intriguing and challenging: a quality I value highly in all of my intellectual experiences.

By combining areas of curriculum that directly relate to my major and also that connect to this ever-changing world of ours, I hope to receive an education that will train me to be an adaptable and open-minded adult. I fully believe that the University of Illinois at Springfield can not only provide me with the tools necessary to succeed in the legal field but also help to carry my aspirations for leadership and scholarship to new heights.

Stuck in Stats...

So I'm sitting here waiting to get my notebook back from my statistics class... very depressing... I always blank on math tests.. It's not my strongest subject at all. My weakest really... It's because I KNOW I am not good at math that I have the problem of blanking. Despite spending the previous hour and a half studying my notes to make sure I would not blank.

Ah well. Gotta keep going I guess. My goal for this semester is all A's. How do I intend to achieve that? By becoming the study Nazi I once was. This is difficult to accomplish living in the dorms, or even on campus. Nothing is conducive to studying. The dorm room is the little white box of death... how is it that I spend most of my time there then? I haven't the foggiest.


My dear friend JTF is planning his escape to Argentina, this leaves me very downhearted as this means I will be unable to accompany him and take full advantage of my mediocre Spanish skills. ...

It's very cold out, ice just covers the sidewalks. On the way into the building I am in now I nearly avoided landing on my face for fault of the ice. I'm tired of winter... oh so tired. I need sunlight, I need rain, I need green grass, I need opportunities to do things OUTSIDE!!! Oh how I love outside. Hiking, running, walking, frisbee, biking, setting off explosives.... ahhh... Soon too in February the sport of champions: NASCAR shall soon return. ALL HAIL! Carl Edwards is the man!!!


Several ideas popped into my head the other day. Things I would like to do this summer include attending a blues festival, going on a road trip with my amazing friends and picking up a second job so I can afford an apartment on campus instead of living in the depraved white box that is my dorm room. The blues festival is something I've always felt would be a lot of fun, I enjoy music and the culture of blues usually includes really really good barbecue, thus it's a can't miss sort of opportunity. The road trip is for the reason that last time I went on a road trip with JTF and Chelsea we had an absolute blast, although part of it was because it was for 4-H. Great fun. Finally, second job has many benefits: more money, more money, more money.


A Kudos now... sort of: I've actually maintained eating two meals a day for three days now! Yay!! I have a somewhat normal eating pattern now! It does kind of bother me though, because I sort of freak about gaining weight. Those that read this and know me will tell me I am crazy, but I worry about those sorts of things. This is why I am a running addict when in season, for which I am looking longingly towards February.


I bought some crayons a while back and still have yet to use them. I think I will tonight. I bought crayons because coloring calms me down when I'm upset. It's a very calming, childish sort of activity. I'm not an artist at all so most of my drawings are kindergarten quality, but hey, who cares?

My name is...

explorer, adventurer, scientist, philosopher, passionate,
protector, guardian, fierce, loyal, curious, playful, GREEN.


The Lieutenant, fearless leader. Black beret on my head at a jaunty angle, glint in my blue eyes just daring you to take me on, that smirk... bring on the challenge.

Tearing into the darkness, finding the unknown.


Hat pulled down over my eyes, arms behind my head, sleeping on a tree branch, legs dangling down, swaying in the breeze. Afternoon sunlight dappling the green leaves, dirt roads and adventures to be had. Two from a book, and one in my head.


Are we ever really what we want to be? Is it ever possible to attain that?

The person from the day dreams, the novels and books. The adventurer, the leader, the darkly confident, virtuoso of so many tales told by the dim shine of dusty shafts of light from the afternoon sun?

Honor and chivalry are all but dead, save only, only inside my head.

Ah how reticent and also how outspoken is the heart.

But is the heart the head? And which controls best for what needs to be said?

What am I saying? Whence have I gone?

To tell you the truth, I really don't know.
To write well is not always to what I can aspire


So only read this post if you so desire.

A Tribute to My Four Best Friends.

I've neglected to put this on my blog before because I feel it is not up to my standards and is not a true reflection of how much these people mean to me. I have never had very many friends, largely due to the fact that I was very isolated as a child. I have always been exceedingly shy, very anti-social and lack confidence in social situations. As I became older, some took this shyness for arrogance and it further crippled my self image. I found solace in my faith, books, my unending appetite for knowledge and sometimes self damnation. It is through the people that I profile below that I have become the person I am today. They rescued me from a place in my own mind and helped me to 'Make the Best Better' not only for myself, but for others. They taught me to be a leader, they taught me to be a friend, and they taught me how wonderful it is to reach out and help someone else, even if only by the tiniest most insignificant gesture. To me, they mean the world. So here they are: my four best friends.


First up:

Chelsea Gerberding
Dean of Corruption
Black Hole of Rationality
The Phoenix...

I can remember the instant I first met Chelsea, it was during the Illinois Leadership Convention. My first ILC that I attended, she was on the planning committee. I will never forget pressing the button on the elevator at the Chancellor hotel, waiting patiently as the doors open and seeing Chelsea. Chelsea on a luggage cart wearing a cape. Super Chelsea she was, and Super Chelsea she is. I watched her, not knowing she was from my county, but loving her verve and glib tounge throughout the conference. Later, at County 4-H Show, I had my nose pressed against the glass of the Illini room waiting to be allowed inside for my international foods judging. There she was again! She was serving as a superintendant, and called me inside the large, cold room teeming with projects, and she talked with me briefly. I cannot remember the content of the conversation, but remember being so happy that she remembered me from ILC. Later, as I began attending Federation meetings, I became better acquainted with Chelsea and her role as a leader in the 4-H program and as an extraordinary individual. I remember after meeting her, always searching for her projects at County 4-H show: the honey from her family's hives and the artfully decorated glass Coca-Cola bottles. I felt special finding her projects, proud to know her, and idolizing her as an older and successful leader in a program I already knew and loved. She was the one who encouraged me to come Federation meetings, and eventually to join the State Youth Leadership Team, now my second family. Chelsea is an incredible person. Not only is it her 'fault' that I know 99.9 percent of my other friends, and all the rest of my best friends, she has always encouraged me to be better, and more importantly: happier. It is Chelsea who would coax me out into the open, hound my mother into letting me see movies with her or pal around with the boys. She was the one who came up with the idea that I was in a 'corruption school' of sorts by being with her and the boys, and each one of them was a certain professor of some crazy wild subject.

Chelsea is the one who showed me leadership is not only a wonderful way to give back, and not only am I very gifted with leading, but it is very FUN for me to do so. Chelsea has shown me FUN is not a bad word, and how FUN can make life worth living. Chelsea took me under her wing when so many people walked on by. She's the one who tolerated a quiet, nervous, sometimes seemingly uppity girl nobody knew and turned me into the joyful, playful little trickster fox I am now. She saved me from myself: from becoming one very sorrowful, mournful and depressing person. She kept me from being alone in the dark. Chelsea, you saved my life.


Then there's Josh Frank
Professor of Insanity Indoctrination
Sultry Kangaroo Boy
He-Who-Does-Not-Fall-Over
Tiger One

I think I connect the best mentally with Josh than my other friends. When I first met him I discovered we received the exact same ACT score. He was very quiet and reserved at first, just as I traditionally am around those I do not know. He is an intriguing young man. Josh is very introspective. If you ever happen to patronize the divinity that is his bloggage, take a look around. He has the innate ability to analyze like a true green and find connections to all other aspects of life. Josh is also a restless soul. He is bound and determined to make it around the world on a motorcycle, writing for a living perhaps. At one point he wanted to go live in Argentina for a while, a dream I wholeheartedly support as long as I get to come too! :)

But seriously, Josh is an incredible friend. He has always been one to strike up a conversation via IM when I'm having a bad day, and sit and rationalize everything out with me. He's very hopeful, a sort of cynical optimist if you will. I know, I know.. those two words are contradictory, but if you knew Josh you'd understand. What's also amazing about him is the fact that he is so varied in his talents, I consider him a renaissance man in his own right. After all, can you say you know Kiafaru Jitsu, play guitar, drive a stick shift, read obscure literature and understand it (!), make your own wine/beer, skilled artist and writer as well as a very capable leader and worker. Plus, he inherently CANNOT lose his balance. He is like a giant cat! I try and push him over and he just won't FALL. My friends and I say Josh doesn't fall, he hops at funny angles. He tolerates me most wonderfully. I have an odd fascination with tormenting Josh. You see, every time someone says or does something I find slightly embarrassing, annoying, or good naturedly malicious, I end up hitting him or some such. That's right, Chelsea can steal my phone from me or tease me. But who gets whacked upside the head? Josh, of course. I feel bad for it afterwards most times, but I just can't help it it seems. He's a convenient target. Lately, I have also become enamored of his shoelaces, again, something I haven't the foggiest idea about. I try to steal them constantly, or just plain rough house with him. He is very fun to torment, and Josh always allows me to attempt to strangle, push or sit on him with little more than a bemused smile and usually feeble attempt to defend himself. I think the relationship we have is similar to that of myself and my cousins. Very similar in fact... Also it is important to note that the destruction of the earth will be either my fault or his, we're not sure who's going to get there first...

Josh is always there for me. When I am facing a problem and I need someone intelligent and logical to help me analyze every bit while still managing to offer that comforting shoulder all my friends have. He is the quiet, reserved me in the form of a guy. He's like that very similar twin brother that somehow always knows what I am thinking. Josh always makes me look on the bright side when things look grim, he always gives this quiet strength to me that I never knew was there. Josh makes me laugh, but more importantly, he helps me laugh at myself and not be ashamed of it afterwards. Josh is my colleague, a fellow player in the game of life and my dear friend. Josh, you saved my life.

But the roster isn't finished yet, we've still got two more to go...

Jason Baker
Professor of Driving Way too Fast
My Asphalt Cowboy
Redneck Extraordinaire

Ahh Jason, my dear dear Cowboy. Jason and I first were acquainted at ILC my third year in attendance. I met both him and Brad (see next entry) when Chelsea spotted me in the hallway and called me over. She introduced them as fellow county 4-H members, and from then on the deal was sealed. We hung out as much as possible during ILC. A certain memory of sitting together at the banquet comes to mind, and burning the decorative sparkles on the table in the candles as well as a conversation that included myself being the female at the table with the fewest number of purses.

I cannot say we really hit it off though, until we went on Federation Trip. 4-H Federation Trip is held every year, so that members of the county can go on a 'mini vacation' together just to have fun. The year I went with Jason and Brad the group went to Current River in Missouri to go canoeing. It was a glorious trip that summer. Full of mud, mosquitoes, heat and lots of tipped canoes! I distinctly remember walking back towards the cabins with Jason, talking nonstop about cars, engines and NASCAR. Jason intrigued me, for what he thinks he lacks in book smarts, he more than makes up for with his practical knowledge of engines and scientific principles. He astounded me also with his deep moral convictions as well, for the long walk back to the cabin soon turned into a card game and later a conversation deep into the night on issues such as politics, morality, cars, trucks and careers. I thought it was great to find someone who respected my interests in what is considered a guy's hobby. I love to watch NASCAR and fast cars fascinate me. Plus all the silly little jokes and stories he knew as well as his good taste of 90's country and hard rock resounded with me as well. Now one of our favorite things to do is get on the internet and talk via microphone while I'm doing homework and he's chilling after class. Usually we end up playing songs we like off of youtube for each other, discussing the possibility of putting Lamborghini doors on my Sunfire or just talking about our days. Sometimes when I don't understand what he does at his school (being as he and Brad are both going into automotive fields) he takes the time to explain what nitrous systems are or how a dyno works. Other times we talk about politics or the environment. No matter what, when I'm with Jason I know I'll learn something new I never thought of before.

Jason is also very worrisome however. I don't think I've ever had the privilege of having a more concerned friend. Whenever I feel sick or tired he is the first to insist I go to bed or see a doctor, worried that it could be something worse or that I might be hurting. He's very caring in the way a redneck is, fiercely loyal to those he cares about while pretending it doesn't affect him: classic tough guy stance. I like to compare Jason to a golden retriever in this way. He's smart, protective, can learn anything in no time and appreciates the simple things in life. Jason is always willing to lend an ear to my problems. He's very good for discussing family issues with because his family and mine have similar attitudes. His caring nature and fun loving, 'good ol' boy' wildness have always made me crack a smile. Jason, you saved my life.

Brad Weber
Professor of Dirty Mindedness
Brad-The-Barney-Killer
Teddy Bear
Billy Bob

Brad and I met at ILC as well. We had a grand time there, for that is where he earned his inauspicious nickname of Brad-The-Barney-Killer. You see, the speaker we were listening to and had people listen to a clip of music and then tell their response to it. They played the Barney song and Brad said he felt like shooting something. Thus the legend of the Barney Killer was born. Brad is an interesting individual. He's very much the partier of our group. He loves to hang out with people, drive fast, and stay up late. He's also very cuddly though, an affectionate teddy bear if I've ever seen one. He may seem all rough and tough on the outside, but he's got that creamy warm center just like a fine piece of chocolate. I will never forget riding in his Crown Victoria to Wal-Mart during County 4-H Show Family Fun Night on the hunt for water balloons. I had never gone that fast in a vehicle before! Once we got to Wal-Mart we proceeded to hunt for water balloons and spongy pool toys to use as weapons. We had a grand time, raiding aisles and searching for the perfect 'weapons' of choice. Then we hopped back into the car and sped off towards the fairgrounds. It was Brad who mentioned "Josh" during a conversation in the car, and it was through his suggestion that I later met Josh and gained another great friend. Like Jason, Brad is also going into the automotive field. However, I've learned he has a great array of talents. Brad is an exceptionally good photographer, as I often admired his photos during County 4-H show. He was also a wonderful leader during 4-H Federation, for whenever the group started to argue or things came to a standstill, it was Brad who'd crack a joke to lighten the mood or offer a suggestion.

Brad is also very caring. When things get rough, you just can't help but want to cuddle up to him and pour your heart out. Brad is an excellent listener, but he gives great advice as well. He always teases me and pushes me to put a little bit more footloose and fancy free into my life. Brad is that big brother I never had. Brad, you saved my life.

* * *
Chelsea, Josh, Jason and Brad. You all saved my life in little ways you can't imagine. For talking to me, for laughing with me, for inviting me to hang out with you, for laughing at me when I do something stupid that you call cute, for listening to my trials and tribulations, for encouraging me when I'm up and when I'm down, for tolerating the rapid succession of annoying things I do throughout a daily basis, but most of all, for loving me as only you as my best friends can: Thank You. You saved my life.

60 degree weather in January?! Ahhhh!

Oh how blessed is this day?! 60 degrees in January? Illinois sure is screwy, no? It's not uncommon for people to walk around in hoodies, shorts and flipflops. I was once on the way to class on a chilly day in September. I had thought it was going to be 80 or upwards like it had been the previous week, so I had worn a light cotton skirt and blouse. Of course, it's like 45 out that day so I'm freezing. But that's not the point, as I'm walking to class another guy says Hi to me, I return the greeting and as we share an elevator we get into a conversation. Apparently he's from Russia, and he tells me that this weather we have right now, (45 degrees) is particularly warm for him. I laugh, and tell him the joke about the hoodies and flipflops. Unfortunately he gives me this strange look, and asks me what the he** is a flipflop. Sometimes I need to be more aware, no?

But on to more important things. Today was aaammaaazzziiinnggg. I walked outside this morning and almost moaned but for the great temperature. Simply phenomenal. So I hurried as fast as I could to finish all on my 'to do' list and get outside. I went for an incredible run outside on my traditional route through town. Radio blasting in my ears, heart pounding, going harder and faster until you just feel like collapsing sometimes. It is an indescribable feeling when I finally finish my circuit and near the road my house is on. From the green street sign to my drive way I try to go an all out sprint. Then once i hit the drive way, run up it while holding my breath until the third crack in the driveway. Why you may ask? This forces the heart to work harder. After that it's a very brief cool down walk/jog or a bike ride to bring my heart rate back down.

Instead of a walk/jog, I went on a bike ride today after my run. I went out out in the country along the back fields and stopped for a little while to listen to the wind over the remnants of cornstalks and leaves. Then I moved on with the gorgeous grey sky above me, whirring down and up a hill until I reached the train tracks over Brush Creek (pronounced crik). All over the guard rails are all sorts of graffiti and underneath the bridge the water sat rather than gently trickled like it did normally. The only noise was the distant hum of cars on the interstate a mile to my west and the steadily increasing whispering of the wind.

Just now we had some pretty intense weather. As the afternoon faded the wind picked up and a storm blew right in. I was excited for some rain, but we basically just got lots of thunder and lightning. At one point a tree in another yard split, that was exciting! But after that there was lightning and I heard something explode, it shook the house. Then the sirens started going off so we had to go down in the basement. Sounded pretty bad upstairs for a little while, but it didn't last long. So now I am sitting here listening to ambulances sporadicly come and go into and out of town. This has me slightly scared and very curious. Ah, a friend has just called me and told me someone's garage has burnt down.