Four years ago, as part of our university orientation class we had to make what is called a 50 by 50. Basically it's a bucket list of 50 things you want to accomplish by the time you turn 50. I never finished mine but on it was donate blood. I figured that would be one of those things I would do at 49 when my 50 by 50 resurfaced, unaccomplished. Well, I did at 49 but that was my donor number rather than my age.
Stephanie was sitting outside the caf on Tuesday trying to get people to sign up for appointments. I got "caught in the lunch rush" and didn't sign up. She caught me on the way out instead.
"Are you still thinking about donating?"
"Thinking about donating" was something I'd done for four years. The furthest I ever got was my first time: I got my mom to sign the permission form (I was 17) and signed up. Lo and behold in the two days between when I signed up and when my time came, I got a cold. I went by, talked to someone, and explained I had just a bit of a cold.
"We recommend you don't donate then because we don't want you to get any worser."
Yes, she said "worser." I cancelled my appointment and continued by day... cold free.
Another time I considered donating but I didn't weigh enough.
Then I went to Mexico... then Guatemala... then Costa Rica...
But now I'm one-year chloroquine-free (anti-malaria medicine that made me nauseous for nine weeks...), and I got bit by a dog. But even it if breaks the skin you're still eligible as long as the dog doesn't have rabies and the bite isn't inflammed or infected.
Ok, Moses, you're out of excuses.
I signed up for a time, told my roommates, and "ate healthy" for a day. I really have no idea what it means to "eat healthy," especially in a cafeteria, but I gave it my best shot. It apparently worked.
We had a few kinks: the once-over of doubt when I said I weigh more than 110 lbs, the lost stethoscope and blood pressure cuff, the woman vanishing on break while I was (giggling and) answering questions on the computer, and I had a very difficult time understanding the mumbled directions caked with a thick accent. Cattle herding.
As I was sitting there, needle in my arm, thinking. I thought about all of the germy surfaces surrounding me as blood poured from my vein. I realized that I have no memories of having blood drawn as a kid. None. I also thought about how mad Sarah got at me when she chose to read something I wrote while she was donating blood. "I'm in public with a needle in my arm, and I'm shouting, crying, and giggling. People keep asking if I'm ok, and it's all your fault!" I thought about my amazing roommates who called me exactly as I was struck with the needle. No, I didn't pass out!
All of this babbering to say: I finally did it! Another fear conquered! Another item crossed off the 50 by 50!
The goal for our blood drive was 90 units of blood. I was there two hours before it was supposed to close and we were barely halfway there, and the woman at the door was getting really nervous about coming in so low. Two hours later, they stopped taking walk-ins, but the existing line left them there for an extra hour. We raised 106 units! God is good!
If you're eligible to donate, there is a huge need right now. Check out The American Red Cross or your local blood center. Be a hero. Give an hour of your life to save three (lives that is).
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label roommate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label roommate. Show all posts
Friday, October 8, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
A Trip to the Police Station
I've never really cared for the administrative assistant at the police station. She's not as friendly as the officers. Maybe it was the smirk she gave me when I went in to report a missing hub cab a few years back. I don't know. I do know she did not earn herself any more points today.
I needed another key made for my roommate. They did not provide us with enough when we moved in, so we've had to get more made. 'Round these parts you do that at the police station. I walked in yesterday and was told the key-maker had left for the day. He would be back between 6 and noon today. I went back today a little before noon, and he was out on the grounds.
At first she began to take down my name (not even daring to repeat my last name to me but requesting I spell it), request, and a phone number. I did not get past the area code when she looked out the window and almost stood. She picked her Blackberry up off of the desk and radio-ed the officer.
Officer: Go ahead.
Secretary: Can you come in and help this little girl?
Woah. I glanced around to make sure she and I were the only ones in the room. Nope, no little girl had snuck in on my watch. I politely waited, but her words rang through my head.
"Help this little girl... help this little girl... help this little girl..."
Suddenly instead of a renter asking for a new key to be made, I felt like a child separated from her mother. That's where separated children are told to do, right? Seek help from police officers. I contemplated producing some tears just to accurately play the part.
Officer Larry came through the front door and stood in front of me, so close that if there had not been a wall and fake ficus behind me I would have stepped backwards to remove him from my large personal bubble. His eyes were the same level as mine, not bad for a little girl.
Officer Larry: What can I do for you?
I held up the key between our faces. I told him my request and gave my apartment number.
Officer: You already have a key.
Katie: My roommate needs one.
Officer: This for the front door?
Katie: Yes, sir.
When it doubt, throw in the "sir." It used to be so unnatural it sounded corny but after three years down South I have to remember to turn it off when I go home (and not say it to women...)
He took the key and walked away. I was not sure if I should follow or not, but I did since he was still talking to me.
Officer: I've already made a bucket full of keys for that front door.
Katie: You've made one, and we need one more.
I didn't blabber my spiel about the apartment housing six students and the school only providing four keys because I was interrupted by the Chief of Police.
Chief: You made a bucket full-a them? Now whatcha gonna do? Can your bucket hold one more?
Officer Larry: I guess so.
Katie: Thank you.
Officer Larry disappeared I stood in Chief's doorway waiting.
Chief: What are you up to today?
Katie: Causin' trouble.
Chief: Would you stop that?
Katie: What are you up to?
He looked down at his desk, knowing my eyes would follow and see his Subway sandwich and chips.
Katie: Eatin' lunch?
Chief: Yup.
Katie: All day?
Chief: Yup. You're like my wife. I'm sitting on the tractor and she says, "Are you going to cut the grass?" I want to say, "No, I'm just sitting here because I feel like it."
I contemplated telling him about how my dad and his neighbor-friends gather their matching orange tractors in the middle of the yard, rest their feet on the steering wheels, sit back, and enjoy a good beer and great company. But I remembered I'm in the South... and talking to a police chief. Crazy Northern Lutheran stories were probably unwelcome.
Instead, I should have asked to ride the segway. Chief might have actually said yes. Either that or he would have said, "Don't mistake my kindness for weakness." I'm not really sure.
I didn't get to find out because Officer Larry came back with two keys and sent this "little girl" on her way to find her own lunch to eat all day.
<>< Katie
I needed another key made for my roommate. They did not provide us with enough when we moved in, so we've had to get more made. 'Round these parts you do that at the police station. I walked in yesterday and was told the key-maker had left for the day. He would be back between 6 and noon today. I went back today a little before noon, and he was out on the grounds.
At first she began to take down my name (not even daring to repeat my last name to me but requesting I spell it), request, and a phone number. I did not get past the area code when she looked out the window and almost stood. She picked her Blackberry up off of the desk and radio-ed the officer.
Officer: Go ahead.
Secretary: Can you come in and help this little girl?
Woah. I glanced around to make sure she and I were the only ones in the room. Nope, no little girl had snuck in on my watch. I politely waited, but her words rang through my head.
"Help this little girl... help this little girl... help this little girl..."
Suddenly instead of a renter asking for a new key to be made, I felt like a child separated from her mother. That's where separated children are told to do, right? Seek help from police officers. I contemplated producing some tears just to accurately play the part.
Officer Larry came through the front door and stood in front of me, so close that if there had not been a wall and fake ficus behind me I would have stepped backwards to remove him from my large personal bubble. His eyes were the same level as mine, not bad for a little girl.
Officer Larry: What can I do for you?
I held up the key between our faces. I told him my request and gave my apartment number.
Officer: You already have a key.
Katie: My roommate needs one.
Officer: This for the front door?
Katie: Yes, sir.
When it doubt, throw in the "sir." It used to be so unnatural it sounded corny but after three years down South I have to remember to turn it off when I go home (and not say it to women...)
He took the key and walked away. I was not sure if I should follow or not, but I did since he was still talking to me.
Officer: I've already made a bucket full of keys for that front door.
Katie: You've made one, and we need one more.
I didn't blabber my spiel about the apartment housing six students and the school only providing four keys because I was interrupted by the Chief of Police.
Chief: You made a bucket full-a them? Now whatcha gonna do? Can your bucket hold one more?
Officer Larry: I guess so.
Katie: Thank you.
Officer Larry disappeared I stood in Chief's doorway waiting.
Chief: What are you up to today?
Katie: Causin' trouble.
Chief: Would you stop that?
Katie: What are you up to?
He looked down at his desk, knowing my eyes would follow and see his Subway sandwich and chips.
Katie: Eatin' lunch?
Chief: Yup.
Katie: All day?
Chief: Yup. You're like my wife. I'm sitting on the tractor and she says, "Are you going to cut the grass?" I want to say, "No, I'm just sitting here because I feel like it."
I contemplated telling him about how my dad and his neighbor-friends gather their matching orange tractors in the middle of the yard, rest their feet on the steering wheels, sit back, and enjoy a good beer and great company. But I remembered I'm in the South... and talking to a police chief. Crazy Northern Lutheran stories were probably unwelcome.
Instead, I should have asked to ride the segway. Chief might have actually said yes. Either that or he would have said, "Don't mistake my kindness for weakness." I'm not really sure.
I didn't get to find out because Officer Larry came back with two keys and sent this "little girl" on her way to find her own lunch to eat all day.
<>< Katie
Friday, February 5, 2010
Idiot Box
Apparently in Australian slang they call the television the Idiot Box. I might embrace this idea because I almost never watch tv. It was Thanksgiving before my roommate learned the tv in our room even worked. The only show I care about is House, and I haven't seen an episode since I was home a month ago. Ask me if I've seen a certain movie and the answer is almost always no. I don't watch TV and movies.
This afternoon, the tv was on and instead of retreating to my bedroom, I sat down on the futon, computer in hand, and began to blog. Like always, the television stole my attention and it was not long before I was enthralled by the Wife Swap episode where a strict Irish woman living in Pennsylvania exchanged lives with a more laid-back biker woman from Washington.
As with most episodes, these two families were polar opposites. The Irish family spent all day running from activity to activity while the biker family spent their days riding bikes and jumping on bed. Swap the women and there's a problem.
The women want to convert their new families to be identical to the home they left behind while the fathers felt there was no problem with the original lifestyle and refused to change. While I enjoy seeing the way different families operate, this lack of open-mindedness and constant fighting was making me crabby. I don't need any more help getting crabby this week. The only thing stopping me from changing the channel was not knowing which remote goes to the TV and which is for the VCR--ok, DVD player--and the desire not to get up.
Ultimately, I'm glad I watched all the way through because both families were (eventually) able to admit their lifestyle was flawed. Face it, all lifestyles are flawed. Their willingness to see these flaws embrace change is was impressed me.
I don't like change. I don't do it well. Sometimes it's necessary. Since most of us are college students, the changes we need to make in our lives may not be the same as the families (eating dinner as a family at a table, fathers spending more time with the children, having more of a variety of activities in the kids' lives, less controlling mothers...)
That doesn't mean every thing's perfect. Do me a favor, try and find one flaw in your life and work on it. It won't be an instantaneous transformation, but work at it.
I'll try, too. Maybe I'll learn to embrace the idea that everyone else keeps telling me: I can be a poet. Or maybe not.
<>< Katie
Chris: We're going to get two subs and not eat them right away, but the two drinks we're going to drink right away because we don't want it to turn to ice.
Katie: Of course, drinks that turn to ice are never good.
Adam: You CAN make a science joke!
This afternoon, the tv was on and instead of retreating to my bedroom, I sat down on the futon, computer in hand, and began to blog. Like always, the television stole my attention and it was not long before I was enthralled by the Wife Swap episode where a strict Irish woman living in Pennsylvania exchanged lives with a more laid-back biker woman from Washington.
As with most episodes, these two families were polar opposites. The Irish family spent all day running from activity to activity while the biker family spent their days riding bikes and jumping on bed. Swap the women and there's a problem.
The women want to convert their new families to be identical to the home they left behind while the fathers felt there was no problem with the original lifestyle and refused to change. While I enjoy seeing the way different families operate, this lack of open-mindedness and constant fighting was making me crabby. I don't need any more help getting crabby this week. The only thing stopping me from changing the channel was not knowing which remote goes to the TV and which is for the VCR--ok, DVD player--and the desire not to get up.
Ultimately, I'm glad I watched all the way through because both families were (eventually) able to admit their lifestyle was flawed. Face it, all lifestyles are flawed. Their willingness to see these flaws embrace change is was impressed me.
I don't like change. I don't do it well. Sometimes it's necessary. Since most of us are college students, the changes we need to make in our lives may not be the same as the families (eating dinner as a family at a table, fathers spending more time with the children, having more of a variety of activities in the kids' lives, less controlling mothers...)
That doesn't mean every thing's perfect. Do me a favor, try and find one flaw in your life and work on it. It won't be an instantaneous transformation, but work at it.
I'll try, too. Maybe I'll learn to embrace the idea that everyone else keeps telling me: I can be a poet. Or maybe not.
<>< Katie
Chris: We're going to get two subs and not eat them right away, but the two drinks we're going to drink right away because we don't want it to turn to ice.
Katie: Of course, drinks that turn to ice are never good.
Adam: You CAN make a science joke!
Saturday, January 30, 2010
The Suite Life
The first and last time I bribe my suitemates to dinner by volunteering to drive in the snow...
Katie: Okay, girls, I'm going downstairs to get my laundry. When I come back we're going to dinner. Five minutes.
Elizabeth: We need ten minutes.
Katie: Be fast! I'm hungry, and I have a headache.
Nikki: I think Katie's just crabby because she hasn't blogged today.
Katie: I HAVE blogged today which you'd know if you ever read my blog.
Elizabeth: I think Katie should go blog again.
Katie: Seven minutes! You just wasted three sassin' me.
Twenty minutes later
Katie: Girls. Car. Now. Hungry. Headache. Remember?
Nikki: Go scrape the snow off; we'll wait here. Pull the car up right here on the sidewalk for us.
Katie: You want it on the second floor, too?
A few minutes later
Elizabeth: I'm wet!
Amy: KATIE!! Nikki hit me with a snowball.
Katie: Nikki, get in the car!
Amy: You need to drive me to the hospital.
Katie: I'm not driving you to the hospital.
Amy: But it hurt me!
Katie: Then you can borrow my bike, but this car is headed to the caf. Nikki Raye, get in the car!
Elizabeth: I'm cold, Roommate, close the door.
Nikki: I've hit two of my eight roommates with snowballs! No, I mean, two of my seven roommates. I'm going to get them all!
Amy: You're going to get yourself, too? There are only seven of us total.
Katie: Hit me with a snowball, and you're walking back from dinner.
At dinner
Amy: How's your headache?
Katie: Annoying enough that I've decided to name it: Amy Nikki Elizabeth.
Elizabeth: Why am I last?
Katie: Because you took my car keys. Give them back or we're all walking, and I have no problem walking in snow.
Elizabeth: [giggling] I don't have them!
Katie: I don't know which one of you has them at the present moment, but I know all three of you are equally guilty.
After dinner
Elizabeth: ["whispering" from the passenger seat to the back seat] Hey, Nikki, did you ever talk to Tony about that thing?
Nikki: Huh?
Elizabeth: You know! Amy, I think you were there, too.
Katie: Why are you trying to talk in code if Nikki and Amy were both there? Clearly you're trying to hide your secret from me. I'm a bit more perceptive than you've given me credit for being, thank you very much.
Nikki: Katie, let's just say things happen in our apartment that you wouldn't approve of.
Katie: Well, as long as they don't happen in, what bedroom am I? C! As long as they don't happen in C.
Amy: Well, there were two men in there...
[all three burst out laughing]
Katie: Stop breathing; you're fogging up the windshield.
Nikki: Oh, Kax. Hey! So I finally registared on the Wii today and it asked me if I was your friend. I sat there for a minute and thought before I decided to click yes.
Katie: You are not my friend right now.
Nikki: I'm sorry I hit you with that snowball.
Katie: No you're not but I forgive you.
Nikki: You're right: I'm not. [evil Nikki cackel]
Just before bed when I emerged from my bedroom for the first time in a few hours
Adam: Katie, were you doing your thing in there that whole time?
I gave him a confused look. Where I'm from, we always say "Mom, Puke did his thing" to mean "the cat threw up," and no, I did not vomit.
Allyson: Blogging.
Katie: Oh, no. I was writing.
Adam gave me a face that said, "There's a difference?" Silly science major.
This was last night. We walked tonight. Who knew it could take twenty minutes to walk less than a mile...
<>< Katie
Katie: Okay, girls, I'm going downstairs to get my laundry. When I come back we're going to dinner. Five minutes.
Elizabeth: We need ten minutes.
Katie: Be fast! I'm hungry, and I have a headache.
Nikki: I think Katie's just crabby because she hasn't blogged today.
Katie: I HAVE blogged today which you'd know if you ever read my blog.
Elizabeth: I think Katie should go blog again.
Katie: Seven minutes! You just wasted three sassin' me.
Twenty minutes later
Katie: Girls. Car. Now. Hungry. Headache. Remember?
Nikki: Go scrape the snow off; we'll wait here. Pull the car up right here on the sidewalk for us.
Katie: You want it on the second floor, too?
A few minutes later
Elizabeth: I'm wet!
Amy: KATIE!! Nikki hit me with a snowball.
Katie: Nikki, get in the car!
Amy: You need to drive me to the hospital.
Katie: I'm not driving you to the hospital.
Amy: But it hurt me!
Katie: Then you can borrow my bike, but this car is headed to the caf. Nikki Raye, get in the car!
Elizabeth: I'm cold, Roommate, close the door.
Nikki: I've hit two of my eight roommates with snowballs! No, I mean, two of my seven roommates. I'm going to get them all!
Amy: You're going to get yourself, too? There are only seven of us total.
Katie: Hit me with a snowball, and you're walking back from dinner.
At dinner
Amy: How's your headache?
Katie: Annoying enough that I've decided to name it: Amy Nikki Elizabeth.
Elizabeth: Why am I last?
Katie: Because you took my car keys. Give them back or we're all walking, and I have no problem walking in snow.
Elizabeth: [giggling] I don't have them!
Katie: I don't know which one of you has them at the present moment, but I know all three of you are equally guilty.
After dinner
Elizabeth: ["whispering" from the passenger seat to the back seat] Hey, Nikki, did you ever talk to Tony about that thing?
Nikki: Huh?
Elizabeth: You know! Amy, I think you were there, too.
Katie: Why are you trying to talk in code if Nikki and Amy were both there? Clearly you're trying to hide your secret from me. I'm a bit more perceptive than you've given me credit for being, thank you very much.
Nikki: Katie, let's just say things happen in our apartment that you wouldn't approve of.
Katie: Well, as long as they don't happen in, what bedroom am I? C! As long as they don't happen in C.
Amy: Well, there were two men in there...
[all three burst out laughing]
Katie: Stop breathing; you're fogging up the windshield.
Nikki: Oh, Kax. Hey! So I finally registared on the Wii today and it asked me if I was your friend. I sat there for a minute and thought before I decided to click yes.
Katie: You are not my friend right now.
Nikki: I'm sorry I hit you with that snowball.
Katie: No you're not but I forgive you.
Nikki: You're right: I'm not. [evil Nikki cackel]
Just before bed when I emerged from my bedroom for the first time in a few hours
Adam: Katie, were you doing your thing in there that whole time?
I gave him a confused look. Where I'm from, we always say "Mom, Puke did his thing" to mean "the cat threw up," and no, I did not vomit.
Allyson: Blogging.
Katie: Oh, no. I was writing.
Adam gave me a face that said, "There's a difference?" Silly science major.
This was last night. We walked tonight. Who knew it could take twenty minutes to walk less than a mile...
<>< Katie
Friday, January 22, 2010
Freudian Slips
I am a writer. I love words. That doesn't mean words always love me. In fact, sometimes I think I speak really awkwardly. I don't always think before words come flying through my mouth, or I think too late to fix the bad statement. Just for laughs, this are my latest Freudian slips...
Last night, Adam called Allyson and I played secretary. I told him she was unavailable at the moment and I would have her call him when she became available again. Confused, Adam hung up. I made an effort to defend my moderately odd way of beating around the bush: I was not going to tell Adam that his girlfriend was in the shower. Face it, most people shower naked. While I like to think Adam isn't going to leap into the gutter, I wanted to protect Allyson from an awkward situation and took the humiliation on myself when I tried to explain. It came out poorly as I announced to my busy living room filled with a co-ed audience, "Some girls don't like to talk about showering with guys."
As we were leaving the bowling alley on Sunday, I told Josh I had to go because my group was mobilizing. Except it kind of got mixed up with "group is moving" and sounded shockingly southern as it came out, "My groupe is movilizing." Later, I was laughing to myself about how badly that conversation could have ended and I told my friends (all female) what had happened. Well, when I tried to say "groupe is movilizing" I messed it up worse and said, "My grope is boobilizing." Yeah, that was the worse case scenario I had envisioned in my head. It's going to be a long time before they let me live this one down.
Amy asked me to send a text message on her phone. Well, she uses T9 and I don't. I much prefer to type out every individual letter of the words and I can do it rather quickly. In fact, more quickly than I could have using T9. I tried to type, "We are coming" but it ended up, "Bacon accountant."
It's no wonder my roommates like to make fun of me: I'm an easy target. :-)
I'd love to hear about your Freudian slips. Or I suppose you can remind me of some of my other ones because, well, I have a lot of them. :-)
Learning to laugh at myself,
<>< Katie
Last night, Adam called Allyson and I played secretary. I told him she was unavailable at the moment and I would have her call him when she became available again. Confused, Adam hung up. I made an effort to defend my moderately odd way of beating around the bush: I was not going to tell Adam that his girlfriend was in the shower. Face it, most people shower naked. While I like to think Adam isn't going to leap into the gutter, I wanted to protect Allyson from an awkward situation and took the humiliation on myself when I tried to explain. It came out poorly as I announced to my busy living room filled with a co-ed audience, "Some girls don't like to talk about showering with guys."
As we were leaving the bowling alley on Sunday, I told Josh I had to go because my group was mobilizing. Except it kind of got mixed up with "group is moving" and sounded shockingly southern as it came out, "My groupe is movilizing." Later, I was laughing to myself about how badly that conversation could have ended and I told my friends (all female) what had happened. Well, when I tried to say "groupe is movilizing" I messed it up worse and said, "My grope is boobilizing." Yeah, that was the worse case scenario I had envisioned in my head. It's going to be a long time before they let me live this one down.
Amy asked me to send a text message on her phone. Well, she uses T9 and I don't. I much prefer to type out every individual letter of the words and I can do it rather quickly. In fact, more quickly than I could have using T9. I tried to type, "We are coming" but it ended up, "Bacon accountant."
It's no wonder my roommates like to make fun of me: I'm an easy target. :-)
I'd love to hear about your Freudian slips. Or I suppose you can remind me of some of my other ones because, well, I have a lot of them. :-)
Learning to laugh at myself,
<>< Katie
PS: I composed this blog this morning and then had a great slip this afternoon. Nikki and I work for the same department and our latest project requires us to spend long hours in Dr. T's office. Today, as we were sitting there working, I looked at her and said, "Nikki, all of our Nikki-Katie time is in Dr. T's office. We're nerdy enough to do that." Well, she heard, "Nikki, all of our Nikki-Katie time is in Dr. T's office. We're dirty enough to do that."
Monday, January 11, 2010
Él es grande
Well, I've finally finished scrapbooking Guatemala! Phew! That was job! Approximately sixty pages in a month (on top of Christmas and other bizarre family somethings :-)). Ok, minus the page with my roommates because it's going to take a lot of laughter to explain why Heather in the shower could hold hands with Caitlin in bed.
Today I was making a short list of things didn't make the cut and fit into the scrapbook.
- "Ok, let's see if my suitcase closes. I took out some socks, but I put in some chickens and a hammock." Oh, Heather. This can go on the Guate-mate page.
- "Él es grande."
When Neal was playing basketball with a Guatemalan woman she kept saying "Él es grande; él es grande." This literally translates to, "He is big; he is big."
When I wrote this I used a capital "É" since it's the beginning of a sentence but that made me stop and think.
"Él es grande."
What if we change the "Él" to mean God instead of Neal?
"Él es grande; Él es grande."
He's big; He's big.
God is big. Dios es grande.
Never forget that.
<>< Katie
PS. Spell-check doesn't like this post. Do you like it?
Today I was making a short list of things didn't make the cut and fit into the scrapbook.
- "Ok, let's see if my suitcase closes. I took out some socks, but I put in some chickens and a hammock." Oh, Heather. This can go on the Guate-mate page.
- "Él es grande."
When Neal was playing basketball with a Guatemalan woman she kept saying "Él es grande; él es grande." This literally translates to, "He is big; he is big."
When I wrote this I used a capital "É" since it's the beginning of a sentence but that made me stop and think.
"Él es grande."
What if we change the "Él" to mean God instead of Neal?
"Él es grande; Él es grande."
He's big; He's big.
God is big. Dios es grande.
Never forget that.
<>< Katie
PS. Spell-check doesn't like this post. Do you like it?
Thursday, October 22, 2009
"Yeah, You're all I want."
Even though she's not here, my roommate's computer is playing music. Since I'm only half-listening and half-enjoying it, I haven't gotten up to turn it off yet. One of the songs that just played was "Everything" by Lifehouse.
My freshman year, my FOCUS team did the famous Lifehouse Skit...I'd like to note that this was before the Lifehouse skit was cool... we made it cool. Just kidding. Sort of.
Anyway. It's been several years since I've prayed/practiced/performed that skit, but when I heard it begin to play, my world stopped. I mentally took my place on the stage and envisioned us creating temptations to seperate one of us from Christ. As the music speeds up, the temptations gather in closer to challenge and fight with the girl as she gropes for Christ. When this part began to play, I started to fight. I could feel the pushing and shoving from my focus siblings as we struggled to push down our protagonist. I saw the bruises on her knees from falling. I could smell the coffee-soda-water mix we used for alcohol. I was there on that stage with the bright lights as we pushed away from Christ. Remembering that ultimately He would slam the temptations down and dance with His beloved again.
Think about a time when you strayed from Christ. Think about a time when you (intentionally, unintentionally, successfully, or unsuccessfully) contributed to someone else's stumbling. Remember the awesomeness of dancing with your Abba Father. Take His hand and don't look back.
<>< Katie
My freshman year, my FOCUS team did the famous Lifehouse Skit...I'd like to note that this was before the Lifehouse skit was cool... we made it cool. Just kidding. Sort of.
Anyway. It's been several years since I've prayed/practiced/performed that skit, but when I heard it begin to play, my world stopped. I mentally took my place on the stage and envisioned us creating temptations to seperate one of us from Christ. As the music speeds up, the temptations gather in closer to challenge and fight with the girl as she gropes for Christ. When this part began to play, I started to fight. I could feel the pushing and shoving from my focus siblings as we struggled to push down our protagonist. I saw the bruises on her knees from falling. I could smell the coffee-soda-water mix we used for alcohol. I was there on that stage with the bright lights as we pushed away from Christ. Remembering that ultimately He would slam the temptations down and dance with His beloved again.
Think about a time when you strayed from Christ. Think about a time when you (intentionally, unintentionally, successfully, or unsuccessfully) contributed to someone else's stumbling. Remember the awesomeness of dancing with your Abba Father. Take His hand and don't look back.
<>< Katie
Sunday, January 11, 2009
God's Sense of Humor
My friend Amber took the Praxis yesterday morning. Since this story involves two Amber's, we'll call the Amber taking the Praxis "Roommate" even though she's not my roommate anymore. We'll call the other Amber "Amber". (Their last names start with the same letter, too, so sorry for the confusion!)
On Friday, we were driving around and Roommate said she needed to get to bed early because she was taking the Praxis the next day and she was really worried about it. Amber asked the time of the Praxis and said she'd pray for Roommate. She even said she'd get up at 7:30 in the morning (Praxis time) and pray for an hour.
"I'll pray for you tonight," I said implying that I would be praying for Roommate but refused to get my lazy rear-end out of bed at 7:30 to pray for her... We laughed about that and went on with the evening.
Well, Saturday morning I woke up at 7:30, Praxis time.
"Wow, you're funny," I said sarcastically to God (I say that to Him all the time... it's kind of become our inside joke, I guess :-)), said a little prayer for Roommate and rolled over and went back to sleep. An hour later, I woke up again. It was Praxis ending time, I said another little prayer for Roommate, rolled over and went back to sleep. A little over an hour later, I woke up again. "God, it's not Praxis time anymore, would You just let me sleep?" I groaned, said another little prayer and went back to sleep. An hour later I woke up AGAIN. "This isn't funny anymore!" Said another little prayer and went back to sleep.
In talking to Roommate today, the times I woke up where when she was doing something important. Arriving at the testing location, taking the test, leaving, arriving home again, etc. We both got a good laugh out of God's sense of humor. He's clearly paying attention if He's waking me up at exact times following my half-joking comment the night before.
In Christ,
<>< Katie
On Friday, we were driving around and Roommate said she needed to get to bed early because she was taking the Praxis the next day and she was really worried about it. Amber asked the time of the Praxis and said she'd pray for Roommate. She even said she'd get up at 7:30 in the morning (Praxis time) and pray for an hour.
"I'll pray for you tonight," I said implying that I would be praying for Roommate but refused to get my lazy rear-end out of bed at 7:30 to pray for her... We laughed about that and went on with the evening.
Well, Saturday morning I woke up at 7:30, Praxis time.
"Wow, you're funny," I said sarcastically to God (I say that to Him all the time... it's kind of become our inside joke, I guess :-)), said a little prayer for Roommate and rolled over and went back to sleep. An hour later, I woke up again. It was Praxis ending time, I said another little prayer for Roommate, rolled over and went back to sleep. A little over an hour later, I woke up again. "God, it's not Praxis time anymore, would You just let me sleep?" I groaned, said another little prayer and went back to sleep. An hour later I woke up AGAIN. "This isn't funny anymore!" Said another little prayer and went back to sleep.
In talking to Roommate today, the times I woke up where when she was doing something important. Arriving at the testing location, taking the test, leaving, arriving home again, etc. We both got a good laugh out of God's sense of humor. He's clearly paying attention if He's waking me up at exact times following my half-joking comment the night before.
In Christ,
<>< Katie
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Fully Restored
Fully Restored. That sounds like the title of a book. Nope, it's not; just googled it. Maybe someday it will be the title of a book. Can't you hear the big announcer dude going, "And now I present to you Fully Restored by Katie Ax?" Shhhhh, just let me dream big and don't remind me the big announcer dude does movies and sports... not so much books. :-)
Like many other college students, I live in a closet with a roommate. We have three outlets. One in the middle of the room that we share. It's fully with our clocks, bed lamps, fridge, microwave, etc. One on her side of the room that also has my stereo plugged in. At least for today. I'm thinking about moving it to my side of the room because it's kind of inconvenient. Even more inconvenient is the fact that my outlet up and fell off the wall. Just boom. Done. Dangling by two cords.
Fire hazard much? Yeah. We put in a work order for it twenty-four hours ago, and nothing has been done about it. I'm really quite frustrated because I have no tv, dvd player, printer, light, etc. Those things I can really live with out. But when my computer battery dies... or my cell phone? (Both of which died today, imagine that). I kind of feel like I'm living in ancient times over here without any power.
Did you fall off God's wall? Are you dangling by a few random strings? Guess what, He wants you to be fully restored. He's reaching out to you, calling for you, can you hear Him? Will you answer Him? Get plugged back in! (And be faster about it than maintenance is about our fire hazard).
After all, life without Christ is a fire hazard. Sure-fire way to the fire pits of hell. :-) (Ok, it's getting late. I really shouldn't blog late at night... instead I should sleep).
There's a church down the road that had written on their marquee: Eternal Fire Insurance. Available Free Inside". Or something like that.
Have a great night. Thanks for reading my ramblings... More deep thoughts coming soon... (Jesus is also coming soon... we'll see what happens first!)
<>< Katie
"They will throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." Matthew 13:42
Like many other college students, I live in a closet with a roommate. We have three outlets. One in the middle of the room that we share. It's fully with our clocks, bed lamps, fridge, microwave, etc. One on her side of the room that also has my stereo plugged in. At least for today. I'm thinking about moving it to my side of the room because it's kind of inconvenient. Even more inconvenient is the fact that my outlet up and fell off the wall. Just boom. Done. Dangling by two cords.
Fire hazard much? Yeah. We put in a work order for it twenty-four hours ago, and nothing has been done about it. I'm really quite frustrated because I have no tv, dvd player, printer, light, etc. Those things I can really live with out. But when my computer battery dies... or my cell phone? (Both of which died today, imagine that). I kind of feel like I'm living in ancient times over here without any power.
Did you fall off God's wall? Are you dangling by a few random strings? Guess what, He wants you to be fully restored. He's reaching out to you, calling for you, can you hear Him? Will you answer Him? Get plugged back in! (And be faster about it than maintenance is about our fire hazard).
After all, life without Christ is a fire hazard. Sure-fire way to the fire pits of hell. :-) (Ok, it's getting late. I really shouldn't blog late at night... instead I should sleep).
There's a church down the road that had written on their marquee: Eternal Fire Insurance. Available Free Inside". Or something like that.
Have a great night. Thanks for reading my ramblings... More deep thoughts coming soon... (Jesus is also coming soon... we'll see what happens first!)
<>< Katie
"They will throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." Matthew 13:42
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
To Be Loved
I'm back on campus after being gone for the summer. It's kind of weird because most people aren't back yet. My roommate won't be here until Sunday (which is really good because now I have until Sunday to find a place for all of my stuff!). I've seen a few of my friends and we've picked up as if we never left. It's been really great!
But it's weird. This year I'm living in a new building and all that goes along with it. New hall. New room. New roommate. New hallmates. New RA. New ResTech (that reminds me: need to call her... haha). New air conditioner that keeps blowing on me. New just about everything.
I've only seen a handful of my friends because most people aren't back yet. Then there are the friends who aren't coming back. Some graduated. Some transferred. They're still not going to be here, and it's weird. I'm glad there are still people coming because right now I feel like there's a huge hole that needs to be filled! (Get your rear ends here, ladies!)
My parents have been stalling in leaving. I mistakenly allowed them to wander campus unchaperoned while I was in a training session. Luckily, most of the faculty are on a retreat right now so they aren't here to be interrogated. However, my parents went to talk to some people with a real purpose and they ran into the director of my sign choir. They talked to her for about ten minutes before she connected them with me. They said it was like a light bulb went on and she said,
"Oh, Katie! She's one of my girls!" I'm not one of the girls in her choir. I'm one of HER girls. :-) I've heard her refer to some other members in such a fashion, but never me. After all, there are thirty of us, can she really know us all? I figured I can be quiet, I probably slipped through the cracks. Nope, she knows us all. We're her girls. It's a pretty fun feeling.
Imagine what God says about us.
"Oh, Katie! She's one of my girls! I'm especially fond of her. I love her so much." It makes me smile just to think about it. :-)
One of His girls,
<>< Katie
"Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God." John 1:12
But it's weird. This year I'm living in a new building and all that goes along with it. New hall. New room. New roommate. New hallmates. New RA. New ResTech (that reminds me: need to call her... haha). New air conditioner that keeps blowing on me. New just about everything.
I've only seen a handful of my friends because most people aren't back yet. Then there are the friends who aren't coming back. Some graduated. Some transferred. They're still not going to be here, and it's weird. I'm glad there are still people coming because right now I feel like there's a huge hole that needs to be filled! (Get your rear ends here, ladies!)
My parents have been stalling in leaving. I mistakenly allowed them to wander campus unchaperoned while I was in a training session. Luckily, most of the faculty are on a retreat right now so they aren't here to be interrogated. However, my parents went to talk to some people with a real purpose and they ran into the director of my sign choir. They talked to her for about ten minutes before she connected them with me. They said it was like a light bulb went on and she said,
"Oh, Katie! She's one of my girls!" I'm not one of the girls in her choir. I'm one of HER girls. :-) I've heard her refer to some other members in such a fashion, but never me. After all, there are thirty of us, can she really know us all? I figured I can be quiet, I probably slipped through the cracks. Nope, she knows us all. We're her girls. It's a pretty fun feeling.
Imagine what God says about us.
"Oh, Katie! She's one of my girls! I'm especially fond of her. I love her so much." It makes me smile just to think about it. :-)
One of His girls,
<>< Katie
"Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God." John 1:12
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Light of the World
I had written a blog about garbage men and trash pickers, but it really had no point, so I deleted it and started over with something more useful. Then I wrote a second one but didn't like it either... so now we're on attempt three, I hope you like it!
God calls us to be a light to the world. I want to encourage you not to be like the light over the sink in my dorm room.
This light turns on quite slowly so you stand in a dark room for a minute or two before it finally decides it'll light up. Don't be slow to answer God's call, but trust in Him whether you understand it or not. (Chances are, normally it will be the latter).
This light randomly goes out. My roommate and I will be sitting there and all of the sudden the room gets darker. The first time it happened, we thought the light was broken and put in a work order. When the maintenance man came, the light turned on and worked fine. We were embarrassed and he had less work to do one day. Don't go out when you need God the most. Don't hide behind a bushel. Stand firm.
This light also has a tendency to flicker back on then off again. On again, off again. Do you always follow Christ or do you flicker in your obedience? Do you follow today, disobey tomorrow?
Ok, maybe one of the other two blogs I wrote this morning was better, but I'm not starting over again. Sorry all. I need a job.
<>< Katie
"I [Jesus] have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness." John 12:46
God calls us to be a light to the world. I want to encourage you not to be like the light over the sink in my dorm room.
This light turns on quite slowly so you stand in a dark room for a minute or two before it finally decides it'll light up. Don't be slow to answer God's call, but trust in Him whether you understand it or not. (Chances are, normally it will be the latter).
This light randomly goes out. My roommate and I will be sitting there and all of the sudden the room gets darker. The first time it happened, we thought the light was broken and put in a work order. When the maintenance man came, the light turned on and worked fine. We were embarrassed and he had less work to do one day. Don't go out when you need God the most. Don't hide behind a bushel. Stand firm.
This light also has a tendency to flicker back on then off again. On again, off again. Do you always follow Christ or do you flicker in your obedience? Do you follow today, disobey tomorrow?
Ok, maybe one of the other two blogs I wrote this morning was better, but I'm not starting over again. Sorry all. I need a job.
<>< Katie
"I [Jesus] have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness." John 12:46
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