Spin

Finals week is starting to tumble in at a rapid pace. Too rapid. I'm scrambling around trying to get enough sleep and simoutaneously not fail school. Those are some of my favourite things: sleep and not failing school. I'm trying to piece together some "big life events" at the same time.

I'm a little overwhelmed, but I'm doing a decent job. I could definitely use some peace right now, though. And probably most of the things on that list. Finals tend to do that to a person. I want to buy a bike. A bicycle. Eventually a "bike" in the motorcycle way, but for now just one with pedals. I've been scouring Craigslist for one, even though I only have a very vague idea of what I need. I'm really excited about biking this summer. I haven't ridden a bike in about 2 years. I don't really know anything about biking. I'm trying to figure out where I'll live for 2 weeks this summer before my roommate and I can move into her apartment. I'm excited to spend this summer in the city. When I was a kid, my sister and I would always pretend to be grown ups. I would always pretend I lived in Chicago, and now I do. Lifelong dream fulfilled. I also always had about 17 adopted children, but we'll overlook that one.

In a way, we both ended up living our dreams. We always had a tendency to dream pretty big, too. She always wanted to travel the world. She's visiting Spain this summer, adding her 7th country to the list of places she's been. I'm staying in a city I've always adored this summer, and working 4+ jobs (shhhhh, I know I'm crazy), which is a very me thing to do. I'm excited for new experiences, and I'm excited for building on relationships I already have this summer. Em and I have been taking some pretty big steps lately. Getting ready for this summer has demanded quite a bit from both of us. Apartment hunting in Chicago is largely depressing and dissapointing. Trying to find said bicycle that I am obsessed with obtaining has been more stressful than I anticipated. I'm trying to decide how much is a reasonable food budget for a single girl who prefers to eat mostly fruits & vegetables. I'm trying to figure out how to manage the changes in my skin that come with growing up. I'm coming to terms with the idea that my clothing budget is rapidly shrinking. I'm thinking about buying a shower curtain and knives. I'm excited to live in the world, instead of the controlled environment called "dorms" and to be able to cook my own food. I have slight paranoia about the realization that I need a haircut and have gone to the same stylist for about 10 years, and have no idea how to go about finding one I like here. The little things about becoming an adult are the weirdest, I suppose. Ironically, one of the weirdest blessings for me in all of this is one of those things most would consider a curse. The tiny, cozy little studio apartment. I couldn't be more excited to run my life out of a tiny space. I've always wanted to live in a very small apartment. Em and I don't want to live in any one place for terribly long, at least not until we're substantially older, so buying is out of the question. Plus, even when I was a young teenager, I was set on living somewhere tiny. My mom teased me once after a friend told us of her tiny 3-room house in Africa because my eyes light up with delight at the idea of living in such a simple place. Plus, who really wants to clean a huge house? Oh wait... I'm a maid...

Good

I drank a Red Bull tonight for the first time in about 3 years. It was probably one of the worst decisions I've made in quite some time. I sat in the library with Em for about 3 hours while he worked on a massive theological paper. I vaugely worked on a paper (and when I say vaugely I mean it) and looked up things for our wedding, tapping him on the arm every few minutes to see what he thought of this or that.

Em is much more studious than I am. Most of the people I'm close to are more studious than I am. My sister is graduating college with honors in a few weeks. She's really great, on top of being smart. When she visits, people always think we're twins, which is a fun time. I'm not nearly as good of a student as she is, though. I've been thinking about art quite a bit. I am not really artistic. I tend to give people that impression, but I'm actually pretty terrible at most (if not all) creative sorts of things. I like art a lot, though. Soon after I became a Christian, when I was 14 and in the middle of writing my first novel (the first completed one) and thought I would end up being an editor some day, I started wrestling with the idea of evil in what I wrote. This was something that I and my writer friends talked about on a pretty regular basis. Things like, can I have a character swear if that is what the character would do? Or do I have to tone down the sin represented because I'm a Christian? This semester, this same idea was something that one of my professors discussed in class. I never really answered that question for myself until the past few days. I've recently garnered a fascination with the show Being Human (UK and US, I'm sort of a fan of both). The idea of the show is a vampire, a ghost, and a werewolf who live together in a house and attempt to appear human. It sounds cheesy, and I know a lot of people who really hated it, but I would actually reccomend it if you aren't terribly squeamish.

I was watching an episode a few days ago and I was just completely grossed out. And that's why I like it. See, I wasn't particularly grossed out by the images, but by the idea of what was going on. It was showing sin (though not calling it sin) and the idea behind it was that these sinful actions were entirely disgusting. The characters who live entrenched in sin are portrayed as disgusting beings, not as witty or sugar-coated. One of the driving ideas behind the show is that everyone is completely depraved; humans and monsters alike. As I was watching it, I realized how horrified I was by the sins that were being portrayed. Not just in one instance, but throughout. Everything from lying, to sexual immorality, to murder, to completely grey areas were displayed quite accurately. In response, I had this incredible moment where I realized that all the disgust I felt toward the characters on the show is exactly the response I should have to sin. I realized that in that moment, my complete abhorence of sin was probably the most Godly reaction I've ever had toward any sort of film - most of all Christian films. I think that matters. I think it matters that art can cause me to hate sin. I think that idea should affect the way that I write. It should affect the way I doodle on my notes for the one class I use paper in. It should affect the way I look at art. More than that, I think that realization about the depravity of sin (and, in turn, me) should affect every part of my life. I'm bad at endings, and I'm working on that, but the Red Bull is wearing off. Please pardon the lack of paragraphs. They were originally there, I promise. Somehow they became lost in between me typing and posting and they refuse to come back.

Ancient

Here's the deal. I really like to write. I mostly just like throwing up whatever happens to be in my brain onto paper. That is to say, don't expect anything great from me. My writing skills are still about what they were when I was 15. Granted, I had written two novels by that time, but no one ever said they were good (they weren't). I also have a larger vocabulary now, though I'm convinced my spelling has declined. Mostly, this is just me talking about my life, things I do, things I learn, and all that fun stuff.

I turned 20 last month, and I am fairly certain everything is downhill from here. I was babysitting a few days ago and the 3-year-old I watch hopped onto my lap, looked at me for a moment, and then observed, "Why do you look so bad?" I'd forgotten to put on makeup. I explained that I was very tired. She frowned and proceeded to tell me I looked old. She was right. I could have easily passed for ten years older that day. It was a weird experience. Even on little sleep, I used to look my age. Even without makeup, I used to not look like I'd weathered a battle. I also recently discovered my first grey hair.

Now, I'm not actually that upset that I look old some days.After almost a year and a half of being sick, I've finally got my body mostly under control, but I still have the dark circles under my eyes and weak muscles to testify to my illness. It's odd that 3 years ago, I didn't give a thought to my health and I existed almost entirely off of marshmallow cream and Kool-Aid. Over the past year, there were days I wasn't able to stand. There were days I legitimately believed I would die before I made it to 20. I went from being terrified of needles to lying on one of those weird doctor's office beds making suggestions on which arm the nurse draw blood from.

Anyways, I read this a few days ago and have been thinking about it ever since. I've been thinking about time and what it is and what it means, and what I'm doing with mine. Because more than most people my age, I have a pretty decent idea of how fragile that time is. I'm not really sure where I stand with time right now. There are things that I'm really glad I'm doing, and feel like I'm stewarding my time well. In a job interview a few weeks ago, I told my interviewer that I saw good time management as an integral part of following Christ. She looked confused, and I wasn't really sure how to explain it any better, so I probably didn't. Sometimes I get really awkward about things and just quit making sense. That wasn't an attribute of myself I wanted to display in that interview. Anyways, I think the point is that there's more to life than just existing. There's more to time than passing through it. There's more to growing old then memories and people that break your heart. If every second doesn't matter, then none do. And that's me, being presumptuous.