Today I want to be small. I don't want to be intimidating. I want someone to realize that I need protection, that the confident exterior isn't always, or even usually, what it seems. I want to be seen and loved by the same non-related person. I want to be fragile. I want to be feminine.
I want it all and I don't want to have to do anything to get it. I don't want to have an in-depth discussion of what I'm eating and how "I really shouldn't..." I don't want to wear tight or low shirts. I don't want tips at Sonic based on my ass. I don't want to wear stilettos to 7:30 am Western Civ. I don't want to spend my time straightening and then curling my hair.
I want it to be okay to be hungry and to eat, rather than being congratulated on avoiding food. Most of the time I want to wear a hoodie, jeans, and flip-flops and I want to wear my hair in a pony-tail. I want to lay in the grass and look at the night sky rather than picking out my outfit for the next day. I want someone to see that as beautiful.
And I don't just want this for me. I want Mia Hamm and Marilyn Monroe to be considered feminine. I don't want the girls at Kelsey's school to have to "eat water" at lunch to be desirable.
And, in light of all this, tonight I'm wanting Christ to come back in a kneeling, weeping, pleading kind of way.

I want to sit in the rain (light drizzle really), eat food from Olive Garden, and have great life conversation. Would anyone like to join me?

Yesterday was quite possibly the most productive day of my life.
7:28- wake up and panic
7:29-run across campus
7:30-arrive in class (on time!)
10:00- get out of class, skip chapel to do my statistics homework
11:30-Statistics class, during which I wrote a card to a friend for her b-day.
12:45-leave class
now the times get a little blurred but I
-talked to a career development guy, told him what I want to do, and what I'm thinking I want to change my major to. He said something extremely helpful like, "yeah. that sounds good." Thanks for your time.
-talked to the advisor for the Youth Ministry major. I told him that I don't want to be a youth minister but I want to minister to youth, and asked if youth ministry is where I should be. He was much more interesting and exciting, and said something helpful like, "yeah. that sounds good." Thanks for your time.
-watched a few minutes of the Madrid v. Ukraine football game. (some guys were watching in the lounge and I couldn't help but stop. Guys, don't look at me like that; I'm not here trying to impress you by appearing interested. I'm here to watch the game.)
-filled out the "Change of Major" form turned it in to Biblical Studies division and the registrar.
-asked why a) I still have freshman status on my profile, and b) why my Capernwray credits aren't on there, to which I found out they don't have my transcript, and therefore have no record of my ever being there. ALSO found out that I could get up to 16 hours of credit!!! And, on top of that, the Youth Ministry major requires and internship which I'm pretty sure I've already done. That'd be another 9 hours. Hip Hip Hooray ( I hope.)
-emailed Capernwray for a transcript.
-went to Barnes & Noble and read 60 pages of The Cost of Discipleship by Dietrich Bonheoffer. Then I picked up another book on the way out called Reviving Ophelia. It's all about teenage girls. It said that 1 in 5 teenage girls is dieting, and 1 in 8 has an eating disorder. The book was written ten years ago. I can't imagine what those stats are like now.
Can't wait to find out about credit transfers. I may be out of here by December 2006!

I'm drinking orange juice that tastes like airplane orange juice, eating artificially colored "soft & tasty" frosted sugar cookies, and I'm reflecting on the recent observation that life happens...sometimes even in Arkansas. That's very good news.

I have a friend. It's official. We discussed it. Her name is Pamela. Pamela is good for me, and I don't think I'll be too horrible of an influence on her either. She's a 21 year old sophomore. She came to JBU for her freshman year, then spent one year in an intense discipleship program, and then the next year working as the intern for the program. We talked about culture shock (even though her program was in the States) and daydreams, movies and music, regrets and fears, different kinds of people and which type we are. I've known her approximately one week. She asks great questions and thinks great thoughts. She says stupid and genius things, sometimes in the same sentence. She asked me if I like Garden State, after which we proceeded to discuss the beauty of it, and life, and love. She studied in my room today, then I left for class, then she took a nap in my bed. She can walk up to people she doesn't know and talk to them. She's comfortable. You know the type? We talked about that too. I told her why I'm not like that. I told her what's going through my head. My mental illnesses. I told her that I can't believe that people love me, that they would want to be my friend, that they would want me to come up and talk to them even though I don't know them. That kind of thing has never crossed her mind. That's good. That kind of thing needs to cross my mind less. We talked about cars. She said I'm a Jeep kind of girl, with no prompting. I almost cried.
Pamela doesn't suck at all.
Another non-sucky thing in life is that I think I found a church that asks "Why" questions and teaches the Bible. It's only been one Sunday, but I will return. It's interesting that there are about 800 churches per square mile here and the one that I like is a good 40 minutes away. Oh well. I'd rather do that than listen to football-history-of-the-world sermons like the last church I visited.

I'm writing and sitting in a big, comfy chair in the back corner of Barnes and Noble. It's freezing cold outside. Not too far away is a mid-thirty-ish, barefoot, overweight man reading The Ultimate Guide to the Mysteries of Harry Potter. That's a bit...disconcerting. I came here to study, and study I shall, but the notebook in which I'm writing the first draft of this blog is brand new and I would hate to taint the very first blank page with something as vile as Biology. So Pine Cove review it is:

I suppose you couldn't have memories without senses, but the amount of emotion that can be attached to a place, a song, a smell, is remarkable. Hundreds of memories from high school, then 6 more incredible weeks spent at that camp. Every time I go back I sit on a picnic table, (it's an essential part of the Pine Cove experience) and, as much as is mentally, emotionally, spiritually possible I relive it all. The weekend was fantastic and horrible.
I love mid-school girls; I love high school girls. I got to hang out with both. I got to dance and sing, and talk with friends. I learned to juggle...sort of. I didn't do homework. I didn't work. I sat. But I would be lying if I said it was all happy-go-lucky though.

PC is one of the places I feel most alive but it's also one of the places where I compare myself to others most intensely. There were four women in particular (the director's wife, the assistant director's wife, the full-time man's fiance, and the full-time woman) that I looked at and thought about how much more like them I'd like to be, and how much less like me I'd like to be. There were those moments, (well, to be honest, they were a lot longer than moments) when I chose to really believe that if I laughed, talked, dressed, looked, acted more like her then life would be better and easier. If I _______...then someone would love me.
Ok that's about all the vulnerability/transparency I can handle for one day. Actually that may be it forever. I may never blog or write ever again.

I'm pathetic. I really should blog more than I do.
This week I was home for fall break and I:
-saw Garden State with my dad, and loved it just as much as the first time I saw it.
-registered to vote.
-bought my car, switched the title over, got my own insurance, making the 'Stang officially mine.
-had a ridiculous amount of coffee with friends.
-was bored.
-did no homework.
-went to the chiropractor.
Now I'm back at school and I need a nap. Instead I have to work...Cherry-limeade anyone?