It's a snow day after all...

Bitterness would equal completely gone if my classes had been cancelled earlier like I had wanted them to be, but as far as school days go, it wasn't so bad.  Sure, I had a take-home test to turn in and got a butt-load of homework assigned for that one class alone, and sure I had a quiz over the correct uses of por and para, but all of my classes let out early and this is what I got to walk home/drive home in! 

Please note Mr. Tumnus over there with his SHSU umbrella.  He hangs around Evans all the time (I actually have a class with him, but don't tell the paparazzi). 

I did not know until now how much snow can accumulate on a hoodie.  This is nothing compared to what I looked like by the time I got to the library.  I was a Sam Houston Snowball.

I am thankful beyond words for my (GREEN AND WHITE POLKA-DOTTED) rain-boots!

...---"""---...

I like (me gusta) when class ends early, Yoplait yogurt, warm feet, and reading in bed on cold, wet days.

I don't like (no me gusta) walking through the cold rain when it should be a snow day, homework, cold toes, finishing good books, and people who don't get sarcasm (okay, I like the person, just not their sense of humor...)

This post is sponsored by Dr. Koeninger who let class out early.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to finish Haveloc.

I'm going to make this short and -- .

No, really, I am.  I promise.  This is not going to be a long post.

I'm tired.  I should either be sleeping or studying, but who has the mental capacity to do either of those at 11:42pm?  Not me.  I'm too sleepy to concentrate on not my native language and too full of thoughts to actually sleep.  But I don't want to share any of those thoughts with you.  I just wanted to complain about my predicament.

IT HAD BETTER DAD-GUM SNOW TOMORROW.

Come on, SHSU!  Cancel those classes.  You can do it!  I believe in you!

What's going to happen if East Texas continues to have snowy-ish winters?  Will the state quit cancelling school for them?  Oh, dear.

BUT PLEASE, STATE, GIVE US TOMORROW!

How about this: You be Sir Gawain and I'll be Penelope. That's called a metaphor.

Everyone who knows me well knows that I infinitely prefer a well told shoot 'em up movie to the latest chick flick.  I'll take Bond, James Bond over What Women Want any day, especially if he's Sean Connery or Daniel Craig.  (From Monte Carlo with Love, anyone?   I tried.)  Also, if there's a combination of action and sci-fi, or action and, say, Middle Earth, I'll be there in two seconds flat.  That being said, I am also more than a little obsessed with Jane Austen.  I know, it doesn't make sense to me, either. (Well, it has to do with words, so it kind of does make sense...)

I had to preface this post with that paragraph.  Something inside of me insists on rebelling against pink, overly-priced purses, and froo-frooness (speaking of words...).  I've had to face the facts a long time ago.  I am only just now learning what to do with my hair, my nails will probably never be more than just presentable, and I really don't know that much about fashion except as it pertains to me and what I feel I look good in.  My favorite color is green, my second favorite is orange, and though I find the romanticism of Win a Date with Tad Hamilton adequate on a surface level, what I really long for is a gun (cross-bow/sword/nun-chucks), a mission, and someone to execute it with.  I really think this is what all women want.

But I am not going to get lost on a rabbit trail of how women are not the adventure itself but a partner in the adventure.  (For more wisdom and insight into that idea and more, read Captivating.) Well, maybe I am, but not in the way most of you (my old and new small group girls and those friends who have been around long enough to hear me rant) have heard before.  Because today, I had a revelation.

I feel sort of silly writing this.  I feel silly because this is the second time the Lord has shown me something through a CHICK FLICK.

I have wanted to re-watch the movie Kate and Leopold for several weeks now, and I haven't had time to do it.  This morning I had an empty apartment and took some sabbath time (see previous blog post).  The revelations I had during it were more like reminders than anything.  Maybe even more like exhortations.  Maybe it was a wake-up call.  I don't know.  How about I just tell you already?

Do you know the premise of Kate and Leopold?  You should watch it.  It nicely combines science fiction and love story, and after watching it for only the third time ever, I noticed deeper channels that I doubt even the writers and directors fully understand.

First off, Leopold is from 1876, and Kate is one of us 21st century women.  Through an interesting series of events, Leopold enters Kate's life, and this is what he shows her: gentlemanliness.  Not the simpering, cordial small talk kind of gentlemanliness.  I'm talking respect, honor, graciousness and courage.  The whole chivalric shebang.  He honors her simply because she is a woman; he honors her when she has done nothing otherwise to earn it. In fact, her primary behavior discourages it.  He is the first man to ascribe this kind of intrinsic value to her, and it changes her.  Basically, there is something divinely right about being what the Lord had in mind for us to be, both men and women.  Watch the movie with this in mind and I think you'll see what I'm talking about.

The second and significantly less pronounced is the state of the nurse at the mental hospital where the character responsible for this time-travel is trapped.  As he fervently explains what he knows to be true, her desire for something spectacular, for the existence of something grand and exciting, for...adventure, is evident on her face.  Clearly she has been trapped in her "there IS nothing more than this provincial life" way of thinking, and he sets her free.  Is there anyone who cannot relate to that? And is it sappy and quasi-TV preacher of me to say that it was kind of...beautiful?  Yeah, it probably is.  But, oh well.

That's the whole gist of it.  That is how my morning was spent.  I was being reminded of the Sacred Romance (which also happens to be a book title), of whom I am called to be, and what real men look like through a chick flick.

Hello, real life!

"Coool iiit..." "Chilled."

SOOOOoooo we've been talking a lot this semester about the sabbath and what that means.  Interestingly enough, my friend Tamara has also talked about this on her blog, too.  Coincidence?  I think not!  I think that when God is trying to teach us something, he doesn't limit His communication to one mode or method.

Twice in the (amazing) resource group I am a part of we have discussed this topic.  I like it so much that I decided to chunk around some ideas about it with my small group girls, too.

The primary point I want to make is that God rested on the seventh day not because He needed to but in order to, as Lindsey, one of my brilliant girls put it, set the example for us. Exodus 20:8-11 NIV:

⁸ "Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. ⁹ Six days you shall labor and do all your work, ¹⁰ but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. ¹¹ For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.

  It's pretty simple and straightforward, right? But also kind of mind-bottling, right?  He knew that one day people would live in a culture in which rest is looked down on and business and work glorified.  Notice that in these verses He focuses not on the six days full of labor, but on the rest.  In a sermon we listened to that I can't remember the name of, the man suggested this was because the sabbath--rest--is the key to labor.  I agree with him.  This is an excerpt from an email Eli S and the rest of my campus pastors got from Winkie Pratney when he asked for his thoughts on the sabbath:

Nerves don't break down, they just tell the truth. Nervous breakdowns mean that people are pushed to more than they can cope, and that even good stress becomes bad stress. Muscles cannot be stressed to build them without a break - - - a rest in between reps. But Sabbath was made for man and not man for the Sabbath. Unlike God we do not have an infinite source of power, wisdom and creativity in ourselves. Even Jesus told the disciples to rest. God took a break because He knew we would try to copy Him and eventually die young without a break in our excitement to get more done. While too much sleep brings poverty, not enough rest can take you out of the war completely.

 And now, another point.  What the heck IS a sabbath these days?  Certainly its not a puritanical sit-up-straight-don't-smile and think-only-about-God day.  Winkie and the sermon we listened to suggested that on our sabbath days (because there is no longer a universal day of rest.  Sundays are especially not sabbaths for those involved in Sunday church ministries) we should take a break from what we normally do.  For example, if you spend all week working out your mind, it might be nice to do some kind of mindless task with your body.  I have it on good authority that Eli Gautreaux spends his sabbaths making knives because it's not something he has to think deeply about or be relational with... not gonna lie, that kind of freaks me out....  But you get the idea, right?  Do something to refresh your mind.  Do something that will also refresh your spirit and draw you closer to the Lord, because really, that's where we're going to find the most satisfying rest.

And you should know that I need to practice what I'm preaching!  It's so easy to say and so hard to do!  It's more complicated than it should be because, well, because of stupid sin.  What this looks like for me:  If I want to make my sabbath be Friday, then I need to make sure that by the time Friday comes around I have been diligent in my work so that I can take a break (and I'm a procrastinator deluxe..well, a recovering procrastinator deluxe.  I should give God some credit for ameliorating my character even though I have a long way to go).  And then, on Friday, I need to be intentional with my time.  It's tempting to lie around all day watching mindless TV and never make any plans (I hate making plans, by the way.  plans stress me a little), but honestly, when that day is over (I've spent many days like this) I always feel like I have wasted my time and I really don't feel that refreshed.  I do, however, need some veg in front of the TV time.  Ideally, I think I would feel most refreshed if I knew I could sleep in, veg in some way, and then spend some time alone with God and go on a walk or do something physical but not strenuous and taxing.

Wow this turned out to be waaaaay longer than I ever thought it would and I don't even have pictures!  But, I warned you back when I began this blog that my rants might go on forever (probably because I don't like planning things, especially writing).

You should check out my title inspiration (and also this quote from the inspiration) and then watch this corresponding video.  Trust me on this, it will make your life better.

Valentimes is serious times... + lots of random links :)

Can I just say that I am soooo thankful for the way I was raised?  (Why yes, yes I can, because this is MY blog.)  I am very thankful for the way I was raised.  My parents are so stinkin' awesome it's ridiculous.  For instance, I have ALWAYS enjoyed Valentines day.  You wanna know why?  Because in my family it was never just about one's significant other.  It was about everyone you loved.  Besides that, it was a like a mini Easter because we all got candy from everybody, and even occasionally a present.  (The Craig family loves any excuse to have a holiday celebration.) So, when I think of Valentines, I don't think of smooches with boyfriends (ew, gross), or bunches of red roses, or even sappy chic flics (Braveheart, anyone?).  I also don't get angry that I don't have (and never have had) a Valentine.  (Okay, maybe a little annoyed...)

Now, please don't think I am being all high and mighty since the rest of the single world tends to feel differently than I.  I totally understand your bitterness because, dang it, that is the propaganda that Hallmark and their constitients (this is a quote that I didn't misspell, btw) have been shoving into our brains since we were old enough to watch TV.  The only reason I escaped is because my mom would spread out the red, pink, and white construction paper, hand out glue, and chunk some stickers, glitter, candy, and markers our way.  Then my brothers, sister, and I would get crackin' on making those cards.  Boy howdy did we make some awesome ones!  They weren't just the piece-of-paper-folded-in-half kind, either.  Usually we got creative with making pop-ups, heart-shaped flaps with messages underneath, and paper pockets full of (chocolate) candy.  Our cards were veritable labyrinths of Valentinian delight.

Okay, maybe I have gone through a few bitter stages.  I should be honest and say that I haven't been a jolly Happy Couples Day enjoyer every single year, but for the most part I have had fun.  Especially when I get to be with mi familia.  

I didn't get to be with my actual, blood related family on Valentines this year, but I did have a pretty sweet adventure with some sisters of mine at Sam.  My day began with pancakes a la Johnna, and then we snuggled up with Sophie (her miniature schnauzer) and spent the day with Mr. Darcy, a la Colin Firth.  If you're single on Valentines, this is in no way pathetic, I assure you.  No margaritas or wine coolers were involved and there was only one dog and no cats.  Just pancakes and some chicken fricassee, which I cooked!  Yes ma'am/sirree-bob that's right.  I cooked something that called for things like "Fines Herbes" and "mace."  The website is totally awesome and I will be going there often. Johnna spruced things up with some fried pickles and iced tea and was my moral support during the ordeal of new recipe making.


Later, six of us from my resource group, plus baby Shane, went to Houston for yummy Vietnamese food.  Next time I am getting Pho because Mandy's was appetizing and fun.  There was a jungle of tantalizing green things (including fresh basil leaves) and a steamy bowl of soup. Then she mixed them... 

This has changed the way I think about soup:

We wanted to go to a really authentic place but we got there and discovered it was closed (sad faces, please).  Instead we went to a cool place called Kim Son which turned out to be kind of delicious and rife with funny waiters.  The only drawback was that we were in the direct line of the front door which faced north.  This would not have been a big deal if a super windy cold front had not been blowing through with hurricane force.  

After dinner, we visited Daniel.  Wow.  Someday I will attempt to write a blog about what it's like to go and see this man.  He's sort of like a pastor, sort of like a prophet, but definitely full of the wisdom of the Lord.  He also happens to be very good friends with my campus pastors so I am pretty much excited about that.  Anyway, that is a story for a later date and an earlier hour.  My brain is tired (which will account for my repetition of words) and after talking so much about food, I am also a little hungry.  All this to say, my Valentines day was one of the best ever and I am so thankful that I got to spend it with so many people that I love.

Good night everyone!

Check out my title inspiration!

Hope you enjoyed that :)


Now check out my friend Tamara's blog because I love her to death and she is worth knowing about. Kthanks.

It's funny because it's true! (as said by my sometime Ukrainian friend, Max)

According to my dear, dear (and like-minded) friend, Leah, there is no limit to how many blogs I am allowed to post in one day, week, month year, etc.  I certainly don't want to come off as some desperate blogger noob, but today I have found myself with a little extra time and I am glad to know I am not breaking any posting etiquette.  Sadly, my free time is the result of a sinus infection that rends useful attentiveness powerless and leaves me with only the focusing abilities required for tasks that don't require much.  That means, frequent homework breaks for blogging and Sims playing!

Remember those days when we were little kids and responsibilities stopped when we were sick?  Yeah, me, too.  Lying on the couch with sole power of the remote, being waited on hand and foot by Mom or Dad, and all without guilt because there really was nothing we could do about it... (have you noticed yet that I am a fan of ellipses?)  Sadly, I can't enjoy being sick as much as I used to when I have several thousand (exaggeration) phonetic Spanish words to transcribe, due this afternoon.  There's always the chance I will feel too bad to go to class, though, right?  Not that I, a responsible, diligent college student, would ever HOPE not to have to go to class....

I am debating whether or not to relate humorous yet almost uncomfortably personal sickness details.  Like, how many tissues I probably go through in an hour and the finer points of Neti-potting (which I have not yet learned, incidentally).  But I suppose that uncomfortably personal details are socially acceptable through a medium by which I am willingly to tell my life to the vast, uncharted web of the wide world, or something like that...  People do it everyday.  However, people ≠ everyone.  Maybe I will just leave it up to the WWW (which is probably just three people at this point) to imagine how many tissues I use (but I will say it's probably in the neighborhood of 25+).

Man of the house, or new fridge art?

So here's a random story that might (or just as likely might not) interest you.  The other day two of my lovely roommates went to the computer lab before hopping over for some Tortilla Fresca (mmmm, love that cheesy, greasy goodness!).  While eating, my roommate leafed through her stack of papers and found that she had acquired something unexpected:

Yes, that's right. Tom Selleck. Needless to say, they both died laughing.  I didn't know anything about this until one night when we were having a somewhat serious discussion about life and she whipped it out saying "This is for you."

Seriousness=gone.  I certainly did not expect a black and white of Thomas Magnum to pop up out of nowhere.  Then I died laughing.

Mr. Selleck was given the place of honor on our fridge with a magnet caption of "I'm busy being really handsome." (but only because "good-looking" was not an option... maybe one daiye.)

I think I might start a series of distinguished gentlemen fridge art.  I think I'm feelin' some John Wayne next, maybe, what do you think?  

Yes.  Win.  Now the only difficulty is the caption.

P.S. the funerals will be held simultaneously and chocolate bouquets will be accepted, with very warm thanks, by the surviving roommate(s).

Adventures, in general and specific

I really believe I have read a great many of the right sort of books (the kind that make your brain bend backwards and do push-ups while also taking you outside of yourself)  and what I have learned from them (besides what not to do in a dragon's lair) is that we were all made to want adventure.  Think about that just a little, if you don't mind, because it will be fun and might be healthy for your brain.  Math problems aren't the only thing that make it exercise, you know.

Life is supposed to be an adventure made up of lots of adventures.  Have you ever noticed, though, that the trouble with adventures is that they're so hard to recognize?  While we're having them all we see is the hardship, the frustration, the little sleep, cold feet, fear, and uncertainty.  It's not until we're sitting on our couches safe, dry, and recovered, that we are able to look back and realize that the ordeal had actually been an adventure.  I doubt that Bilbo Baggins would have understood that's what he was on in The Hobbit if he had not been told so to begin with.  I have decided to take my cue from Gandalf, too.  Bad traffic, hectic schedules, running to class in the freezing rain... all these things are more bearable if I recognize them for what they are instead of the mundane annoyances the enemy tries to turn them into.

Now, as promised, I will relate my Saturday morning adventure:

While walking along a small, barely used highway (the state park was too crowded) we (my three friends and their dog) found a nice, wide trail.  Naturally, being adventurous women, we took the trail and left the road behind.  Who wouldn't?  It was a sunny day, but still everything managed to seem just the least bit creepy.  I mean, why was this trail here, anyway?  It was not fit for cars, it was not for power-lines (we crossed a power-line strip where the trees and underbrush was cleared away), it had no apparent purpose.  Then, in the distance, we saw a car.  We thought it might be a boat at first, but the closer we got, there was no doubt that it was a car.

Why was it there?  How did it get there?  How long had it been there?  Maybe there was a homeless man living in it.  Maybe we were about to walk up on a crime scene.  Maybe it was a crime scene with a homeless man who had a knife and we were about to get knifed to death...

Our imaginations went wild, happily so, as we approached it.  The dog loped along with us care-free, so we weren't really worried.  But our interest was piqued in a real way once we got to the car.  I'll show you why:

It was burned.  It had been torched.  The paint was gone, the metal had melted in some places...  Weird.  It had been there a while, too, because the ground around it had not been recently bothered by either traffic or fire.  I'm somewhat used to cars being dumped in the middle of nowhere--we have some family land out in west Texas that has several ancient vehicles resting in peace--but this was not like that at all.  This was deliberate destruction.

The only thing on it that was not burned beyond recognition (the license plate was empty) was this:

Curiouser and curiouser, right?  Doesn't it just make you want to know WHY this PORSCHE was out in the middle of nowhere, burned to death?  And we even had to cross a significantly sized ditch that no car of this caliber could cross, so, weird.

We decided that the most likely possibility is that it was stolen and then the person burned it to get rid of the evidence since selling it would only get them caught.  We also discussed that it could have been dumped out there because there was a body in the trunk.....

We checked.  There wasn't one.  (At least, not anymore...)

ANYway.  It just made me want to go all Nancy Drew on its hiney and figure it out, but of course I have not. What I have done is imagine all sorts of unlikely but interesting reasons why an expensive sports car met its untimely and unfortunate demise somewhere in the woods.

Once we determined that we could not determine anything else, we left and continued our walk in more inhabited areas.  Here's another picture from our trek for the heck of it:

Thanks for reading and please don't hesitate to share your ideas on the Porsche case, but make sure they're clever.  I don't want any downer-duh suggestions, please!

Babies in the bushes... (aka, ADVENTURE)

I am hardly ever not imagining something, thinking about something to imagine, writing something I have imagined, or getting involved in something someone else has imagined (books and movies). It's not really something I can control. Anyone who writes knows this is just what one gets stuck with, though it may be there at different intensities at different times of life.

This is one of the reasons I picked the majors that I did. Spanish and English majors do little else besides read other peoples stories and then write about them. Crazy idea for a degree, really, if you think about it. (You might think I'm joking, but last semester I had four literature classes, two in English and two in Spanish. Cool, but also not cool.)

All this to say, I get bored when I am walking to my car--drawback number one of no longer living a football field away from CHSS (football coach's kids always measure distance in football fields, btw). By the time I am walking to my car, my brain is MUCH to tired to think of stuff like life, so I amuse my poor mind with crazy scenarios. Like, what if, when I was walking to my car past the long row of bushes I happened to look down and see... Hmm, what? How about a baby. What then? Definitely nothing conventional like spending the rest of the day talking to police and medical personnel. The imagination has nothing to do with real life unless one wants it too. And who wants that? Not me after a day of bilinguality, that's for darn sure.

Anyway, that's just to get you started thinking. Sometimes I don't have to manufacture adventures. Sometimes I have real ones. I had one yesterday of Nancy Drew proportions. If I wrote that story I would call it... Well, actually I suck at titles, so I'll just tell the story and you can name it whatever you like.

My epic Nancy Drew Adventure will be posted soon!! Stay tuned.

Testing 1 2 3! I can post from my phone?!?! What is this, the 21st century?