Kansas

Alright, so I've lived in many different places.
I've experienced many different cultures.
I've tasted many different foods.
I've lived in many different climates, but the one that annoys me the most is Kansas' weather.

So today is the first day of December.  The first day of December, remember that.  Christmas plans are in the works and Christmas music echoes down the hall.  Decorations are appearing around every corner and daily the rumor of Christmas gifts is whispered.  The night is lit up by lights attached to the edges of houses.  But one thing is just off today.

It smells like Spring outside.

Yup, Spring.  Birds are freaking out, their tweeting is deafening in the parking lot just outside my dorm.  The weather is a balmy 66 with light clouds and a slightly moist feeling just to keep you cool, it's not humid though.  We just put up our Christmas tree in the dorm.  I don't think Kansas knows that its supposed to be wintertime about now.

I currently have my window open because its that nice outside.  My cacti are sitting in the windowsill, I'm hoping they will absorb all they can before winter actually comes... if it does.  This is the time when you are supposed to go out and sit around a campfire for warmth, not stare at the ground wondering if the grass is going to become green again.

Kansas, you are just a little messed up sometimes.

There is nothing so great as the feeling of being loved.

Thanksgiving break is here and life is calming down slowly.  Sure, things still happen and life still throws its curves, but I get to spend some days eating, laughing, and lounging.

Being home is always great for me because I have a little dog there.  She, being banished from the dorms, lives with my parents.  She does crazy things while I am away like grow her hair long and sleep with all sorts of people. I have to get her back into shape whenever I return.

She has taken to me fast, like usual, and even sits on my lap as I type.  Her haircut is currently half through.  Her white fur is long and curly except for two spots.  Her head is shaved down close and her little feet are also; this gives her a very "I'm fat and I know it" look. Once I have completed the cutting process she will look like the young, toned show dog quality that she is.
But for now, I just like to pick her up, squish my face into her side and enjoy the cotton feel that it offers.

I feel accomplished every time I come home as a wiggling and tripping dog comes barreling through the hallway trying to be the first one to greet me.  Minutes are spent as I try to give her the attention I think she deserves for such a display of affection.  Sounds echo throughout the hard linoleum floor of our kitchen as she tries to be the closest to me while I hug, laugh and reconnect with my family.  It takes at least a day before she calms down, but I revel in it the whole time.
It is a joy to be always accepted and sought out, no matter what life is throwing around.

Dreams

What is the deal with dreams?
Are they the real final frontier?  Not the deep sea, not space, but dreams.
Is it a hopeless area of study because nothing is concrete?

Dreams are the mystery that I constantly try to unfold.  I don't sleep because I'm tired, I sleep so I can dream.  Nights go by without a single idea coming to the front of my mind but then I can have several nights in a row where dream after dream fly through my every moment.  They are so fantastical, I cannot hate them.  Even when I have a horror movie style of a dream, I still wake up exhilarated and curious; this is usually because of one reason.

I remember one of the scariest recent ones was a parody of the Woman in Black trailer (Its a slightly dated dream).
I was exploring this old black house with many dusty rooms.  Somewhere in the house there were rooms in which I knew there were people needing to be saved, so I searched and searched.  My sister appeared with me and as I found someone I sent them outside to my sister who would comfort them in any way she knew how.  After saving several people I became aware that someone was watching me and she hated what I was doing.
I began to watch around every corner and even glance behind me several times, the only thing I ever saw was a shadow of black but what I heard sent chills down my spine.  A laugh full of evil and hatred would crash down the hallways and grow louder as it echoed in the rooms.  I became petrified at times, unable to move anything or think beyond that single sound.  But people still needed me; if they had been living in this horrifying place all this time I could handle it a few hours to save all that I could.
The woman realized that I wasn't going to stop with just a few shows, so she prepared her next move.  I was on the basement floor when I heard my sister's voice calling me from a room a little ways off.  She said she had found someone who desperately needed my help.  Instead of questioning why she was inside the house I quickly rushed to the room.  I saw someone standing by a small window dressed all in black and then, she vanished with a screeching laugh that chilled every cell in my body.  It was THAT room.  The room where SHE lived.
Still searching for someone who might be in trouble, I glanced at the bed.  Thats when things started to get real crazy. My feet were suddenly glued to the floor and my eyes saw a sight that was meant to scare the last bit of courage right out of my heart.  The bed sheets suddenly lifted up and started flying around the room.
Strangely enough, a peace settled over me.
A peace.  In this room.  The room where all evil came to rot, I found peace.
All of the sudden,the window was bright and my mind relaxed.  My real life started invading this dream and my belief in Christ and his saving power wrapped me up.  I felt the strength of one greater than a woman in black and I stared down at the flying sheets with eyes too full of peace to care.  They wouldn't and couldn't hurt me in any way, for God was with me in that dream.

God.  That is why my dreams are so wonderful. Why every night I look forward to what adventure and situation will come next.  I know in the real world who is most powerful and in my dreams it is the same way. I have been able to pray in my dreams before and they immediately change.
I don't mean to sound preachy by this, but I want you to know that is my conclusion on dreams.  The Final frontier.

Surprise!

Traipsing into work today I failed to notice one key thing.

I walked into the main room and greeted the secretary and the head of the department who were having an impromptu meeting.  Feeling slightly out of place I quickly stepped my way to the back room where I clock in.  I checked the shared student board, as I waited for the machine to warm up, for any notes my fellow workers might leave for me. All that remained was a schedule for who brings in candy when, a sheet that stated different titles that are also their job (for example: a mother mothers), a creatively designed layout of the office (it looks very similar to clue and we have begun putting together a little copycat game), and a note saying different rules to remember while working there.  I had seen them before so I didn't even spend three seconds looking.

I clocked in and waltzed out of the back ready to face the responsibilities of my day, but truly my mind was on a movie that I am going to see later tonight.  After doing my everyday duties (checking the trash and emptying it, turning off the coffee pots, re-stocking the printer room), I asked the secretary what I could do for her.

Her voice flitted about as she arranged her thoughts into something I could understand and in the midst of this I zoned out.  Not that I didn't hear her, she essentially told me "nothing today", it's just that something else had caught my attention that was far more interesting than the extra unneeded dozen of words.  There was something tickling my hair.

Strange as that may sound, it makes sense.  It was like a breeze was tousling one section of my hair.  As politely as I could while the secretary talked, I tried to lightly brush my bangs out of my face and flip my head so the air wouldn't distract my any more.  Instead, I noticed the increasing annoyance of the continued something in my hair.  Now, thinking it is a leaf, I combed my fingers gently through my unruly hair and I felt it.

Rough, thin and much too small to be a whole leaf, I combed my fingers again through my hair to try and find it and pull it out.  Thinking now that the secretary must have noticed my behavior, I excused myself to try and pull out this leaf in my hair.  Walking over to the trash can she suddenly says three words that scare the life out of me.

"ITS A WASP!"

Then the next sound... the sound of a very angry wasp buzzing right next to my left ear. My life flashed before my eyes and every single moment that I had been stung before rushed to the very front.  Breathing fast I quickly lean way over, praying the wasp will just fall out of my hair.  The buzzing grows louder.  The secretary rushes over and tries to scoop it out of my hair with a sheet of paper. What a sight to see and sound to hear if you had walked in at that moment.

I was leaning way over, head almost touching my knee. The kind secretary was trying to get the wasp out without angering it any more and all the while I am walking away from my left side, thinking in my panic that somehow I could still get away from the evil creature.  She followed diligently as I moved farther and farther from her.  The buzzing only growing louder and louder.  I'm not sure what I spoke, only that it was frantic and probably very high-pitched.  I know the secretary tried to reassure me several times that she was doing her best but the many words floated to deaf ears. I could't focus on anything but my most basic thoughts: get away, get away, get away.

...
Somehow, the wasp flew free and the manly head of the department came strutting in and killed it with one good swat.  I escaped without a sting, but I'm pretty sure I will never be able to run my fingers through my hair again this week without a momentary panic of it being a wasp...

Ever had that moment?

That moment when you just want to find a corner and hide in it.  Maybe find a wall and become one of it's many paper flowers.  Or even just reverse time so that embarrassing thing you did could be stopped before it happens?

I had one of those yesterday.
We had a university testing day, no one had to attend classes.  All I had to do was take a test that everyone in my university has to also take.  I finished that in the morning and had the rest of the day to do whatever (I ended up watching Hamlet. The one with Mel Gibson with a strange short hair cut).  After the movie ended and I finished my responsibilities (working and all that), I had a few moments to do nothing.

Those moments are a good thing and a bad thing.  This time it was a bad thing.
I turned on my candle warmer that sits a few feet away from the futon we have in our room.  I turned my dinosaur laptop on and walked around for a good five minutes before it changed from the "Window's" screen with that strange, curvy four colored representation of a window. I sat around searching the endless internet for a while, finding nothing.

My roommate and I talked for a while and it was decided.  Road Trip!  I clicked the option to turn off my dinosaur and waited another five minutes before it said "Are you sure?"  After closing the monster and trying to hide it behind anything I walked over to my candle on the candle warmer.

It was halfway melted.  This is always slightly disappointing because the nice smell of the vanilla candle doesn't really waft through the room  unless the hot wax is allowed to escape into the free air.  In an attempt to free the warm wax I started using my fingernails to scratch a hole into the hard wax on top.
Shavings came away at first and when I got closer to the warm wax it started squishing around.  I hadn't finished getting ready to leave yet so I left it to put my shoes on and such.
When I came back I was happy to see a small puddle of wax oozing out of the hole I had created.  Excited, I started to push on the hard wax to cause more warm wax to come out.

This is the moment when I would go back and stop myself.

When the wax didn't budge at all, I used my other hand too, pushing harder to try and get the warm wax out all the while thinking that i wanted the vanilla smell to circulate better.  Disaster stuck right then.  The hard wax suddenly whooshed into the warm wax causing a volcano to erupt and burn everything in it's path; this included my hands.

I spent the next few minutes listening to my roommate laugh uncontrollably while I frantically tried to clean up fast-cooling wax from the carpet, the shelf and the bookend; ignoring my hands in the process.

I woke up this morning to find blisters on my fingers.
Writing today is going to feel just dandy.

Fall

This weekend was the fall break that we have in our fall semester.  I was very excited as this week crawled towards the elusive weekend.  Class by class I watched the time, barely paying attention to what the content was.  I got so lazy that I didn't even do the homework for my classes.  It is at this time, when the weekend is over, that I am regretting this decision.

Break was amazing though. I was able to tease my sister with comments about little shared jokes that we have created thanks to the intimacy of our sibling relationship.  I laughed with my parents as they joked about their lives, it is common to hear them joke about how my father is the head of the household but he refers to my mother as "boss".  We have spent many hours laughing about this.  My grandmother even came and spent the weekend with my family. This was all perfectly alright because I was able to score 5 loaves of banana bread, a dozen homemade biscuits, two jars of jelly (one of them is zuccini jelly....), and a Tupperware container of stew out of the deal.

I also was reunited with my little spastic dog Frosting.  She is a white Maltese-poodle mix who has the smarts of the poodle with the teasing nature of the maltese. It has become her habit to come up to any newcomer, beg mercilessly, run away, and repeat.  For me, she comes to my feet and the minute I reach down to pet her she rolls over and waits impatiently for my hand to arrive.  She follows me around and jumps onto my leg if I stand still too long without giving her attention.  I realize the spoiled nature that I am encouraging every time I reach down to pet her, but when I only see her once every few months I find it hard to resist.

It breaks my heart every time I have to leave for Frosting becomes even more attached to my side.  She even gets so irate that she will walk backwards in front of me, trying to stop me from packing and taking my stuff out to the car.  Today when I was walking towards the door to leave she came and circled my feet as I moved, trying to halt my progress.  I think she has learned that my visits are few and far between, and each time Frosting becomes a little more persistent that I should stay.  Or at least take her with me.

How/where/when do you read?

I have spoken to my sister many times about this question for we both have different styles of reading.  We both share a library (this has proved somewhat difficult while I am away at college), and we are often reading the same books.  Unfortunately, this means we are also often waiting for the other one to finish.  It is during these times that I especially pester my sister.

The last book that we really had trouble with this was when I bought The Hunger Games (and later the other two).  I had been holding out against the masses of my college mates who were demanding that I read them when finally, right before Christmas break, I paid for it.  I had, of course, already finished the book before I left school; I had finished it the day I bought it.  So, we had no reading issues on that one, but when she accumulated the second book she claimed it for herself first.  So what did I do?

We have a reading couch in our family.  It's not technically for that reason but my sister, my father, and I all sit in one spot on one couch to read...  This couch is right in the front room, beside the dining room, and a hallway away from the kitchen and the bedrooms of me and my sister.  This couch is centrally located based on everything in the upstairs section of our house.  This is what I did: every time I walked by this couch with her sitting on it I asked a variant of "done yet?"  Several "Finished yet"s, and a few moments of "can I read it now?"  This effectively annoyed her to no end, causing her to lose her place or forget where she was reading. Sometimes I caused her to need to re-read sections over again as she tried in vain to ignore my continued pleading based on her lack of response.  Keep in mind, I do this out of love and, she gets me back more often than I get to tease her.

Now down to my answer of the above question: I read books once for plot.  Then I read them for character. Then I read them for side notes.  Then I read them for hidden sidelines.  And eventually, I read them again because I forgot all the details of the plot.  This is where I get my joy in reading.  To read a story once is not enough!  I want to understand a story fully, and for some reason my brain can't do this in one reading.  This is where my sister teases me mercilessly.  Always on the first time through I can't seem to remember names of characters. I can explain everything they have done and every part of their personality but my mind refuses to remember their name (I know, it's strange even to me).  So I hear questions like "who did this, huh?"  "Remember that person's name?"  All while she has a hold of the book so I can't cheat...  unfair.

This is just a part of the love and bond that we share, linked with reading.

The Poor Life

You know all those complaints about being poor in college.  Everyone's excuse for not having something they need is "but I'm just a poor college student so I don't have ______." I am guilty of using this phrase myself.  And who can doubt that this is true?

Oh bologna. Living in college is about choices.  Big ones like: Mac or PC?
Okay, that's not such a life changing decision.  How about Business major or Biology major?  On campus student or off campus?  Buy a car or buy another semester of classes?

Unfortunately, we are all still kids!  I don't care what the government says or what society says about becoming an adult, I truly believe we are still kids.  What do I know of living in the real world?  I have my meals, my friends, my job, my bank, and my classes all within walking distance.  What do I know of taxes and owning a house, running a business or cooking for a family?  I'm still a kid.  We are still kids.
This is why we get into trouble.  This is why we are poor, we haven't made enough of our own mistakes yet to learn that they are mistakes.  We still have our childish desires; I don't want to buy that book, I want to buy that movie trilogy that just came out in a DVD box set!  I don't like this old phone, I'm going to buy the new Iphone5 because it is so cool!  Look! Touch screen!
Who has taught us life skills?  If we are blessed, out parents teach us what they know and they prepare us as best they can for what is to come.  But society doesn't help a lick; society takes advantage of our inexperience.

Need money kids?  Have a credit card!  Have one already? Here is five more on us, just to be safe.  It will help you build your credit, so use it often!
Kids, you are an adult now, all those things your parents wouldn't let you have are now yours to buy!  Here we'll do you a favor and mark them up ten dollars and then say they are on sale 10% off! What a bargain!
Oh child, you don't have any fashion sense do you?  Here, come on over to our store, we have the best back to school clothes available just for you.

And who looks out for us: the small, vulnerable section of society?  No one, we are adults now.  Isn't it great!  All our life, so far, we dream about being in the real world and now that we are, well...
So we make our adult decisions, live our adult life, and be an adult.  We make mistakes, we learn from them (or don't), and we deal with the consequences.  That is truly what college is about.

So enjoy your Iphones if you must, your just-came-out laptops, your parties, your shopping trips, and your late-night food extravaganzas; but be wise about it. Please?

Is there anything special you usually request at a restaurant?

Whenever I go to a sit-down restaurant (which brings to mind something that others have told me is strange about myself, my family always calls places to go out to eat at, restaurants. They are therefore classified into fast-food restaurants or sit-down restaurants.. I guess that't not normal?), I sit down and check out the menu. It usually happens that I can't find a single thing that I would absolutely LOVE to eat; this could be from an indecisive nature or perhaps I am just too easygoing about what I like to eat.  I do like to order water; pop has lost all appeal for me anymore.  I personally think  its because I spent my teen years drinking every pop available until I cried carbonation and sugar. Anyways, I order water and if my father is with me, he orders limes (not lemons) with his water.  Its actually quite delicious, you should try it.
After ordering water, I try to pawn off half my meal with someone else and if I'm by myself, well, shed a tear for me.  If I am successful I let them order, if not I try to find something that would be delicious as leftovers (what can I say? I'm a poor college student and however many meals I can get out of this, the better!).  One rule that I always follow is never order anything with mushrooms.  I cannot stand the texture of mushrooms!  They are an awful, slimy food, and who wants to eat something classified as a fungus? Not me!  I do have to request that there are no green or red bell peppers in my food.  Its not that I don't like them (freshly cut with a little ranch is perfect!), its just that they don't like me; my throat will feel nice and raw and I will end up burping that oily flavor for the rest of the day.

Other than that, I simply proceed to order and eat.

Sometimes, the simplest things can brighten the whole day.

Today is yet another rainy day... sigh.  It's not that I don't like rain, I have many fond memories of racing Popsicle sticks down the curb while the rain gently patted my back as if to say, 'have fun my child, you are young and so you should enjoy life'.
On top of the rain, it is strangely cold; who let Fall come over?

The morning didn't start that bad, I woke up early.  I didn't do anything but glance at the window shade to get a sense of the hour by it's lightness.  I was immediately sure I was up too early.  I got ready for the day and somehow thought that shorts would be a good idea.  Sometimes, I amaze even myself.  After I walked upstairs I got a nice glimpse of what my day would be like: cold and windy.  After I raced across campus with my roommate, I sat in class thankful that I at least had grabbed a sweatshirt.
I sat there trying to stay awake while my enthusiastic professor tried to drill something into our brains.  I was too busy trying to not yawn.  When I did yawn it was usually at that moment that I knew I had to jerk myself awake, unfortunately my mind decided that I should make eye contact with the prof in order to do so.  I had quite a few awkward moments where my mouth was wide open as I made eye contact.  Needless to say, I was glad when that class was over.
The day never brightened but something in my schedule gave me a boost.  I was learning Shakespeare from a talented professor when he let us watch a movie.  Normally, that's when a person checks out.  I am not that person, I was immediately enthralled.  I spent the rest of the class period completely engaged in what we were learning.
After class I went about my duties (work and all that).  I was just finishing my office work when I realized it was raining outside...  So its now cold, windy, and rainy outside. I'm having great luck.  I walked out into the rain and realized that I still had another job to do.  Turning into the wind I walked to one of the farthest points from my dorm.  I arrived and the secretary welcomed me happily, it must have been a good day for her.  I accepted the paper she handed me and began to edit like a machine, but I couldn't!  I stared at the first sentence and read it again. Nothing.  I blinked a few times, tried to block out the world and tried again. This time I made it through the first paragraph before being halted once more.  It seemed my short burst to my attention span had run out.  I chatted a bit with some nearby students to clear my head momentarily and then tried reading again.  This time, it clicked in my head.
This guy was a good writer!  He didn't just tell me what happened, he showed me!  I couldn't stop reading then.  I drank each sentence in, searching for the meaning; I was always satisfied at the end.  When I finished,  I found the author himself and complimented him; I was truly impressed!  I cleared up the few questions he had and then went on my way.  Not entirely pleased with the day, but not displeased either.

I gathered my things and prepared to leave the library.  I glanced at the falling rain and was prepared to meet it when something else caught my eye.  There, at the door was a guy.  He had just approached the door himself and glanced back to see me.  I was still several steps away but nonetheless he opened the door and held it for me.
One thing.  One little thing and I was completely happy.  I smiled broadly at him and thanked the guy for his one little service.  I don't expect anything from this guy but it is nice to see men still have the decency to open a door for women.  He responded to my thanks and went on his way, probably thinking on other things again.
As for myself, I went walking in the rain with a smile on my face and a spring to my step.

And so it begins.

The second week of classes started with a nice jolt and yet I am unsatisfied.
I spent a summer debating with myself about one thing, do I take a piano class or private lessons.  Okay, so maybe this isn't such a big deal but I had a tough time deciding.  Perhaps a little more back story will help you understand.
I love to play the piano.  Period.  I have played the instrument for years. I started young with a very kind old lady who spent hours for many, many weeks trying to get me to keep my back straight and my wrists off of the piano.  I'm sure that my complaints were annoying at times, but she stuck with it bless her heart.  Then I moved and lost her wisdom.  I went through a period of many teachers who would teach me for a few weeks and decide that they had nothing new to teach me.  Of course, that made me feel good, but it did nothing to improve my skills.  After a few years, I gave up.  I played when I wanted to, but I didn't have any challenge so I didn't have anything to work at.  We eventually moved again and we had another chance, but by this time I was in the habit of not playing and I didn't want to start again.
Yet, something pulled me to the piano, its beauty and ability to sound like many parts at once called to me.  I began to play it all the time.  I played it when I needed space, I played it when I felt amazed but there was still one boundary... I had no idea how to make music on it, all I had was what music had been given to me over the years. Thus began my search for enlightenment.
I was a year or two away from college and my aunt taught me a few tricks about how to always make major chords.  I started trying to find those little tricks, but I didn't learn any more until I worked up the courage to take a piano class in college. Then I learned more than my brain could hold. I learned the circle of 5ths, I learned the rule about how to tell what key it is based on the clef and the sharps/flats.  I learned how to make minor chords with ease.  I was a learning machine!
Now, back to this summer.  Since I have learned so much in the piano classes, I still have a high probability of learning more in the next level of classes. But the next level of piano was known for focusing completely on a certain proficiency test to be certified for something or other that probably will never change your life.  Or I could spend $300+ for private piano lessons.  Mainly, I was debating whether the cost was worth it.  Long story short-I chose private piano.
And now why I am still unsatisfied: I haven't had a lesson yet.  I paid the money and was told to wait for an email telling me when I can start.  No email has arrived yet. I suppose that I am quite impatient... okay, I'm really impatient, its only been two weeks.

To summarize, I'm complaining.

Rain

So, yesterday was the first day of rain that us college students have experienced this year. I personally fought it most the day by wearing jackets and using an umbrella, yet I tried to enjoy it. I know that we probably won't get another rain the way this year has gone so far. Drought seems to be affecting everywhere except the hurricane-land in America. So as I walked from class to class I tried to smile and enjoy the cold, hard little bullets of water that hit my face.
As the day walked on I started to give up on the whole "let's stay dry" idea and simply put away my umbrella. The wind probably would have broken it anyways.  I went about my tasks with a cheery attitude. One of my tasks was getting a parking pass which was free before 4:00 pm yesterday.  Believe it or not I even enjoyed working.
However, by the time I had finished my duties for the day, I was perhaps slightly wound up.  I stood outside the office I work in and watched the rain beat the ground mercilessly.  It came in waves as the wind pushed it  to its own designs.  I suddenly had this loony idea... If I'm not worried about staying dry, why not enjoy the rain for all it's worth!  I glanced this way and that, no one was around.  Quickly I slipped off my flip-flops and hooked my keys onto the straps to keep them together.  Then with one last look around I took off.

There are times when running is just the right thing to do.  If you see an open field without cows in it and you know it hasn't been plowed yet, run through it!  Running like that for me, is the closest thing to being free.  I can escape the world with all its "progress" and go make my own way. To be running wherever you want without seen boundaries, its like a refreshing stretch that wakes you up after an hour or two of lecture.  This is what I felt yesterday.  I ran across campus barefoot and felt the small joy of release. Freedom.
By the time I reached my dorm I was soaking wet and quite cold, but I had a smile that barely fit my face.
Yesterday was a good day.