Unusual Joy

All of the following are real quotes from one person's mouth.

•  "We should eat eight of the elderly because then we wouldn't have to go buy more prizes."
• "Ohh!  Ambulance parking.  We could park there.  Bob, turn on your lights!" [Bob drives a minivan]
• "Men don't have hair."
• "I want to eat my words because I didn't have breakfast, and I'm hungry."
• "AH!  You just decapitated me again."
• "I had a dream last night that I actually behaved at youth group.  Thank goodness it was only a dream!"
• "There are dominoes in my shorts!"
• "Look!  That tree is moving.  Oh, wait, the bus is moving."
• "Naked!  Hehehe Silly!  Plethora, giggle, tomatoes." [This was a text message sent to the wrong person]
• "Ew!  Rick Warren!"
• "What does 'nagivet' mean?"
• "ATHANASIAN CREED!  Exploring His manhood?  Oh!  This creed is dirty!"
• "That's why I make out with Katie: she goes to seminary next week."  [That is what we heard.  What she really said was: "That's why I hang out with Katie: she leaves for school next week."]
• "I don't need caffeine.  I'm pre-caffeinated."

Who REALLY says these kinds of things?

The same girl who was on the jumbotron speaking whale...

One of my anonymous readers... Melissa Joy Noel.

She's been begging me for a birthday blog for years, and I'm really not sure what to say to the girl who threw herself a 19th birthday party at the city pool.  We played with shaving cream and silly string on the playground...

I think for her birthday I will donate blood because I'm eligible for the first time ever.  Then I'll give her the information pamphlet.  I can just hear her reading it, "Definition of sexual content... AHHHH!!! ... whether or not a hmmmhmmm is used... EWWWW!!!"

I love Melissa.  She brings unusual joy into my life.  Selflessness, a strange sense of humor, and silly string.  What more does a person really need?

<>< Katie

One Year Ago Today

I don't think I'll ever forget my last night in Costa Rica.  I lived there for a month taking Spanish classes and living with a tico family.  My final night, a big group of us went out to dinner.  My host parents, my host aunt  and family, one of my classmates, and myself.  We went to a restaurant that serves all of the food on one plate and you kind of grab the food and eat it with your fingers.  Yeah, not a germ-o-phobe's favorite restaurant.  Top if off with the fact that I felt like crap and it was not a pleasant night.  (I blame the chloroquine...next time I might take my chances with malaria).  I tried to eat but really had no appetite.  To distract myself from the nausea on the ride back, I started making a mental list of all of the memories/ stories/ things I'd learned that I wanted to share with Sra. Wright, my high school Spanish teacher.  Learning a language is one of those things you remember learning every detail, at least for me.  There were so many things I wanted to talk to her about, so I decided I was going to make a list on the plane ride back.

When made it home safely (that's actually a big surprise), and I stood in the family room contemplating checking my email one last night or waiting until I got back to the States.  I decided to go for it.  It'd be quick and then I'd go to bed and pray I was feeling better in the morning.  Well, it wasn't as quick as I had wanted it to be.  In fact, I learned that on the plane I'd be writing a different letter to Sra. Wright.  One she would never receive.  She'd passed away two days earlier.

The plane ride back was a roller coaster.  Sitting behind me on the plane was not just a student from my high school but someone that graduated with me... took Spanish with me.  I asked him if he'd heard and he said, "Yeah, it's a bummer."  A woman dies and you say a bummer?  That's worse than when I told a professor I was in a car accident on a way to her event and she said bummer.

I regretted not visiting Sra. Wright all of those times I'd visited my Alma Mater.  She'd asked about me, but I never made it down to see her.  I regretted not going in the one week I was home before leaving for Costa Rica.  (Again, I blame the chloroquine... nine weeks of nasty pink pills meant nine weeks of feeling nasty).  It helped me to know she hadn't been at school that day, but it didn't help much.  I regretted not emailing her to tell her I was still using my Spanish and going to Costa Rica to learn more.  I regretted not thanking her for taking the time to teach me.  I regretted not being able to look her in the eye the last time we spoke.  Her jaundice grossed me out.  I'd known she was sick, but I never knew she was that sick.  The word "cancer" was never shared, at least not with me.

I'll be honest, she was never my favorite teacher.  I was disappointed when I saw her name on my schedule for the fourth consecutive year.  In fact, there were many days I'd "Go to my locker" and get distracted by friends who had a free period; at least once a week I'd hear, "Katie, go back to Spanish."  However, even the teachers we don't always appreciate leave lasting impacts on our lives, especially when you see them every day for four years.

Earlier this week, my sister Christina asked me to explain the difference between "por" and "para."  I never get those two right, but I explained it to her the same way Sra. Wright explained it to me countless times.  In fact, one day in class the example we were doing was a post card written to a teacher years after Spanish class thanking the teacher for teaching the difference between por and para.  Sra Wright kind of laughed, "Please don't ever send me a post card thanking me for teaching you the difference between por and para.  Por and para can't be taught... they must just be learned."  That didn't stop her from trying.

The same idea didn't stop her from trying to teach us the difference between "ser" and "estar" either. Remembering this brought tears to my eyes.  She said, "Estar is used with changing things.  The soup is hot- estar.  Today I'm sad- estar.  The one I don't really understand is death.  To me, death isn't a temporary thing but the Spanish use estar."

Death isn't a temporary thing.  Life is the temporary thing.  How do we spend it?  Running a million miles an hour too busy to notice the little moments or investing in children and teaching them something they have the capabilities to use for the rest of their life?  Being too stuck up to laugh at yourself or stopping class to remark about the "delightful aroma" of fart in the room before leaving and locking your students in it?  Do you put up with their "Senora, how do you say (insert some super random word here like "lipgloss" or "headphones" or "@")" or do you cut off their fun?

Thank you, Sra. Wright, for taking the time to teach us the difference between "por" and "para" but, more importantly, thank you for taking the time to invest in us.  To show us we can do it even when we don't think it's possible.  In the words of the Celine Dion song sung at Sra. Wright's funeral, "You gave me wings and I could fly/ you touched my hand I could touch the sky/ I lost my faith you gave it back to me/ you said no star was out of reach... you saw the best there was in me..."

Muchas gracias.

<>< Katie

Movie Review: Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium

It's not a big secret: I collect quotes. Silly quotes, serious quote, life-changing quotes, awkward quotes, words of wisdom, and down right ridiculous... They're written everywhere: in the middle of notes of class, on post-it notes littering my room, in the margins of books, in my email, on my hand, on my blog... They really should all be in my Writer's Notebook, but they aren't. Instead I have them all saved in a powerpoint attached with photos for your (my?) viewing pleasure. Well, "had" might be a better choice of words; the powerpoint disappeared with my thumb drive. I've come up with many of them like "the plotline of Acts looks like an EKG" (you would, Natalie) and "I wish my name ended in an 'A'" (Melissa). Unfortunately, some other quotes have been lost forever. To combat this tragic loss, I am slowly rebuilding my quotes collection. Here is the latest addition: 

"I've been introduced many times in my life and that was the most... recent." - Mark

Actually, that one is about six hours outdated now. My real newest quote is:

"All stories, even our favorites, must come to an end. This allows for new stories to begin."

It's one of the opening lines to Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium.  I'm not a big movie-watcher because finding an entertaining, enjoyable, clean, not super-sappy movie is an almost impossible task.  I own literally ten movies (I just counted; eighteen if you include VeggieTales).  However, I found a good one that will be added to my personal collection next time I'm brave enough to peruse the vicious $5 bin at Wal-mart.

The other day Andy, Elizabeth, and I (all of us at least 20) popped in Mr. Magorium and were completely enthralled.  Sure, the movie is aimed at kids but it's great for parents, too.  It's shallow enough for a child to play but deep enough for an elephant to drown (a professor once said that about the Gospel of John).

Basic plot summary: legendary owner of a magical toy store dies and his heir has to decide if she wants to continue the tradition or close up shop.

Except it's a whole lot deeper than that.  This movie includes themes like peacefully accepting death, making the most life, and beliving in oneself.  Honestly, a movie that begins with a great quote about stories can hardly be bad.  "All stories, even our favorites, must come to an end. This allows for new stories to begin." Wow. 

I don't give a lot of movie recommendations, but I highly recommend you go watch this movie.

<>< Katie

Lost: Thumb (Drive)

You know those songs you haven't heard in five or ten years? The ones that you forgot about? The ones that when they reappear become your favorite all over again? That's where this Relient K song fits into my life. I heard it earlier in the semester when Keith and friends sang it at chapel. I fell in love with it all over again and began singing it almost constantly! I don't have it on a CD and I can't find it online, but I make Andy serenade me every time I see him. Much to Amy's chagrin, he taught me to sing it myself.

"Technically I didn't teach her to sing it. She was singing it already. I just taught her to sing it correctly. Would you rather I let her sing it incorrectly next time?"

Never underestimate my Jesus. You're telling me that there's no hope; I'm tellin' you you're wrong. Never underestimate my Jesus. When the world around you crumbles: He will be strong; He will be strong.

Well, I was very grateful for his teaching me correctly because on Wednesday I lost my thumb drive (jump drive, flash drive, life, pick your term of choice). Like I've already mentioned, I eat computers so it wasn't a big surprise when my beloved blue side kicked walked out of my life. However, that doesn't make it fair or pleasant.

You're telling me that there's no hope; I'm telling you you're wrong.

Right. Hope is not gone. My thumb drive is gone. Along with it the latest drafts of my novel, my completed powerpoint for Monday's class presentation, my resume, my collection of crazy quotes, and I don't want to know what else. Of course, my first instinct was to blog about my catastrophic loss. I couldn't. Thanks, Lent. My life is missing and I can't even use my favorite coping mechanism! Yesterday was not a pleasant day.

Never under estimate my Jesus.

I'm a creature of habit. I use the same bathroom stall, I aim for the same computer in the lab, I sit in the same section of caf, so retracing my steps isn't hard. Especially since I can narrow it down to two hours from when I had it last to when I noticed it was missing. Retracing my steps was easy: computer lab (yes, I ejected it), copy room, three different professors' offices, bathroom, and the caf. That's it. The professors haven't seen it, the secretaries haven't seen it, the police haven't seen it, the caf woman hasn't seen it. No one has seen it. It's vanished into the dark abyss!

"Maybe you flushed it," Elizabeth suggested. That doesn't help.

When the world around you crumbles: He will be strong; He will be strong.

"CARL! Why are his hands gone?!" Screamed the llama in the disturbing video Andy and Dr. Z showed me on Tuesday. Well, my hands are gone; just my thumb. Drive. Most things I lost can be replaced with an earlier version... except the quotes list. Sure, it's just for fun but gosh can it make me laugh. I could use a laugh right now.

<>< Katie

PS: If you see a blue, rubbery thumb drive that says, "Katie" when you plug it in: it's mine. Yes, the one that almost never leaves my computer

Holding History in my Hands

I kind of want to just see how many days in a row I can update my blog. Posting comments might encourage me to be more diligent.

I don't remember where I read this, but I read it within the last few days. It said, "Everyday, do something you don't want to do." I had to read it twice before I really understood it. Everyday, do something you don't want to do. Some days I just don't want to get up in the morning. Other days, I don't want to clean. Today was both of those days.

I awoke this morning to "Moving Day" at my grandparents house. No one was really moving, but the furniture was. It's hard to sleep when someone's carrying beds and dressers down the hall and stairs right next to your room anywhere much less in an old farmhouse where the floor squeaks if you look at it. Then--go figure--they need something out of your room. It's hard to keep four dogs out and ten people quiet anywhere, but it's even harder at my grandparents'.

The men loaded the furniture into trucks and the women decided we should take the opportunity to go through some boxes. After all, we were all there, and the boxes needed to be moved anyway. It was a job no one really wanted to do but desperately had to be done! My grandmother is a pack-rat, and it seems whenever someone passes away, she gets their stuff. She has all of her mother's stuff, all of her friend Ruth's stuff, and some of other miscellaneous friends' stuff. As a result, my grandparents' five-bedroom farmhouse, barn, and garage are FULL! Someone had to sleep on the floor last night. Not because there weren't enough beds, but because we couldn't GET to all of the beds. Every room in their house is a fire hazard.

We started going through boxes. Ruth's stuff has the least sentimental value, takes up the most space, and has been sitting un-touched for the most years (because we don't know what's in there), so it was a good place to start. We went through a plethora of old boxes and each of us came home with an item or two. Then, a truck load when to Good Will. We even made sure the truck left and everything wasn't piled back into the house, too! (We're getting smarter in our old age).

There were some cool items. Like a WWI military pin that my cousin snatched up before I could claim. A plethora of handkerchiefs we gave to a friend. My mom got a martini shaker. My aunt found a pretty crystal vase. My sisters took necklaces, books, and bent-out-of-shape rings. I wasn't so excited about Ruth's stuff, although I did find a fun-colored kitchen set I'm storing at my grandparents' house until I have an apartment.

I was more excited about the fact that Grandma let me go through her books and see if there was anything in there I wanted. After all, I am an English major. She'd already gotten rid of a lot of them (yay for Grandma!), and she wanted to rid of the rest before we came back at Thanksgiving. I'd already read most of the titles and searched for a good book to read on other visits, but this time I was searching with a different intention.

I only pulled out a few books. A dictionary of quotable definitions from 1970. Grandma was sooooo excited that I wanted it. I'll have to add "reading the dictionary" to my interests on facebook... haha.

I asked Grandma if I could have her hymnal. It was a confirmation gift given to her by her parents in 1952! She said I couldn't take it today, but at some point, yes, I could have it. I pray maybe she'll read it, though the chances are unlikely.

One of my coolest finds for the day was actually in Ruth's stuff. It's a medical book from 1912. It's well-loved, even though all of the pages are still in tact. Even though I know it's really out-dated, and I don't really plan on reading it, it's still something cool to have. How many people have books from before World War One? Not to mention one where it's very easy to note changes and technological advancements since then! I just felt like it was something that shouldn't be lost in the house (or the piles for Good Will). If you ever want to know the 1912 treatment for something, let me know! :-)

Even though cleaning anyone's house does not sound like a fun job and was not on my list of things to do today: it was well worth it! There are only six words that seem appropriate for the hard work done today:
"Well done good and faithful servant."

Ok, maybe a little sac-religious, but it works!

Sorry, this is a really long, pointless post, but thanks for reading!

In Christ
<>< Katie

"His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!'" Matthew 25:21