Punctuation

There are some punctuation questions that I just can't find answers to. Here's the one I remember right now: DOES PUNCTUATION GO INSIDE OR OUTSIDE OF QUOTATION MARKS?

Sometimes it's easy, like when someone's talking. "I'm going to the store," she said. Comma definately inside the quotation mark.

But then there's other cases, such as when I put quotation marks around the word for some sort of emphasis or to mark it as some sort of jargon. He's with his "girlfriend". ?

What about when the quotation marks mark a title? Like, Have you read the poem "The Chimneysweep"? Surely not: Have you read the poem "The Chimneysweep?" No, actually, they both look dumb.

And the grammar books don't seem to address this matter! Whatever will I do? However will I know? Bah!

Dating?

Today's conversation:
her: So, I feel awkward asking this... but... are you dating that guy from the meat department?
me: No, we're just friends.
her: Oh okay, it's just that I always see you guys talking.
me: I really enjoy our friendship, but I'm not looking for a relationship at all. Still, I can't help but wonder how much we can hang out before we're basically just dating...

It's that age old When Harry Met Sally question: Can men and women really just be friends, or does the pull towards a relationship always get in the way?

And what does dating even mean? Time spent together regularly? A DTR talk where you agree to the titles "boyfriend" and "girlfriend"? Plans of marriage and a future together?
My Mom says if you're not kissing, you're probably not dating. Okay.

It's a confusing world.

Visit

My brother came over for dinner tonight. He was passing through town, and he stopped in to hang out and eat with me. I cooked stroganoff, and he liked it. :0) As he left, I thanked him for coming and said, "I like cooking for you," and he replied, "I like it when you cook for me too!" It was a nice exchange.

Wedding

I really missed you tonight, Jeff. I know I only knew you for one night, but this night reminded me of that one, I'm wearing the same dress, and I missed the attention I got from you. I missed dancing together apart from the crowd so much - exclusivity - for fast songs as well as slow ones. Fast dances where although we weren't touching, we were in each other's space. How I got closer and closer with every slow dance. How they commented that we were "falling in love over here". Tonight I got a little bit of attention, but nothing as consistent as what you gave me. I missed you.

You told me you'd call, even though I didn't give you my number. I knew you could get ahold of it. They told me that in the aftermath although you were very interested in me, you ended up getting back together with your ex. It's probably better that way; I understand that. I'm not actually looking for a relationship. And just your attention for one night sent me on a bit of a moral downswing... I'd hate to see what further contact would do. But still, on nights of dancing at weddings, I miss having an admirer.

I hope you are happy with her. To that end, I hope you don't think about me. But I still think about you.

******

Are weddings always a meat market? Is it okay to want that attention from the opposite sex? Do us singles always go with attraction in mind, wondering who's already taken and who's fair game? I don't think I like this, even though I see it in myself as much as in everyone else. I found myself thinking that it would be helpful to clearly lay out just how available everyone is, so you wouldn't make anyone angry by accidentally dancing with her boyfriend, and so you wouldn't have to have the awkward conversation that expresses more interest than curiosity. But then I realized that that would make it even more of a matchmaking scene... So I guess it's best to just hope you're interpreting the clues correctly.

As much as I don't like the mindset of singles at weddings, I have to admit that it's fun. I enjoy it so much more as a single person than I did when I had a boyfriend. And I wonder whether the married people miss that thrill.

Does anyone actually have the story: "Well, we met at a wedding..."?

******

The wedding was beautiful, and creative, and I saw elements of both the bride and groom in it. And I have so much hope for this couple - they're both really neat people, the type who have good heads on their shoulders, and I trust them not to be naive. Plus, I think I feel good about this relationship because I got to see it develop. I knew them both separately before they started building a relationship, I awkwardly said to them "Aw, you guys should be friends!" right about the time they started dating, I had a couple of relationship talks with the bride as things got more serious, and now I got invited to the wedding!

It was strange being at a wedding where I can say more about my friendship with the groom than with the bride. He's been an unexpectedly good friend to me at some important times, and thus someone I have called upon when I've needed a friend; and although her and I are also friends, that doesn't seem to be as exceptional to me. That started to worry me throughout the day... And I wonder how to place appropriate boundaries on these friendships in the future.

Farewell Larry

Today we found out that our beloved school president Larry has been asked by the board to leave his position. I guess his direction for the school conflicted with theirs, and the board members are the ones who are really in charge. And the students are left largely in the dark to mourn the loss.

I feel like this is ultimately unfair to Larry and his family. He had dreamed about this job for years. He left a secure life in BC and relocated his family here when we offered him the presidency of our school. Now merely ten months later, we're asking him to move on. Withdrawing the dream. I feel like we are an awful institution to have done this to him. They say he took the news so graciously, possibly entertaining mutual feelings about the difference in direction, and even praying blessing upon the board and the school before he left. But it makes me so sad to imagine the conversation when he got home - breaking the news to his wife, to his daughter, to their friends and family. His employment with us is already over. We didn't get to say goodbye.

I loved Larry. That feeling was common among the students. He paid attention to us and made us feel valued. He'd often be found in the lounge playing pool with the guys, and he always had a kind greeting as he passed you in the hall. He was so friendly and personable. One time last year after a weekend of choir concerts, a friend invited him to hang out at A&W with us - and he came! And he treated us! And he stayed for quite a while, and we had a fun conversation! That's when he told us that we could address him however we were comfortable, and if we wanted to call him Larry, we could call him Larry. He had been there when I spoke in chapel, and he told me that he really appreciated what I had to say. He came to our last concert last year in Lethbridge and he met my Grandma, and he came to our first concert this year and met my Mom (he was eager to - when I told him she was there he said "Will I get to meet her?"). He even offered to help me move - at work one day a month and a bit ago, his wife came through my till and asked me how I was doing and how school was going. I told her about how I was feeling busy with moving. A few minutes later Larry came up to me and asked if I needed help moving. This was after the moving was already finished, but I was so touched by his offer. I was so touched by his warmth. I often told people about how wonderful he is. We were blessed to have Larry.

As sad as this news is, and as much as I didn't expect it, neither did I find it shocking. I think I'm getting used to school-related loss. It started when Melody was laid off several years ago. That was such an upsetting shock. Then after all the stress of the potential merger, President Dirks left (although we were nervous about the resulting instability, we didn't really miss him). We lost a lot of other staff after that too. Then last year Lucas and Henric left. I cried so much when Lucas announced in chapel that he was leaving us (and not just moist eyes and a pressure in the chest, but tears streaming down my face and ragged breathing). I loved Lucas. And then Henric announced he was moving away to support his wife in her goals, and although I wasn't close to Henric, I cried for all those whose hearts were breaking, I cried when his voice broke with tears, and I cried more for the loss of Lucas. I think that surprise and finality are the two aspects that hurt the most. Today I shed some tears for the finality regarding Larry, but I've learned not to be surprised.

Farewell Larry. You have been loved and you will be missed. May God make better dreams come true.

Friends

I finished watching Friends tonight. Season 10, episode 17. Nostalgic.

I wonder if the title seemed dumb when it first came out: Friends? But it's provided the possiblity for fun comments. "I bought more Friends today!" "My Friends are in your car?" hehe.

I liked seeing Rachel grow up from a ditzy Daddy's girl who can't do laundry and can barely hold down a coffee shop job to a strong confident woman at the top of the fashion industry. Because Joey was typically so shallow, I loved the times when we got to see depth and kindness in him - like when he proposes to Phoebe (and then Rachel) when he discovers she's pregnant. I liked seeing Monica & Chandler's marriage and how they both have freedom to be themselves within the relationship. I like the episodes that a friend previewed for me. "Haven't you read Flowers for Algernon?" "Oh de feuf!"

I've been watching the Friends DVD sets over the past ten months. It's been nice to have something to come home to this year after work or school. But as I've gotten to the last few seasons and I've noticed this appreciation, I've realized that when my involvement in their lives is over I'd have to focus on my own life.

I think that for them it was all built on proximity. If they all lived far apart it would have been much different. They never phone each other to make plans for the next week - they just walk across the hall into each other's apartments, or down the street to the coffee shop where they know someone will be hanging out (and where they never get accused of loitering or asked to leave). My life's not like that. And I don't know if it could be like that. My friends are not my neighbours. I don't have common areas, and I feel awkward about dropping by and making myself at home at someone else's place. I don't really tend to make the sort of friendships where we spend all our time together. My friends come from a variety of groups, and I like time alone. As I've come to recognize that, I've come to realize that's okay. I think.

It's not real. The roommates almost never fight. Feelings rarely get hurt. Rachel's life hardly changes after she becomes a mother. They never miss things because they have to work.

Still, they're more than just friends. They're family. They spend Thanksgiving together; they attend each other's parents' anniversary parties and family funerals. They drop by for breakfast and they take each other to the hospital.

I had a conversation with a friend last night where we said that we kinda feel like our little group is family. We've made it through seven years of friendship, and as we look far into the future we see holiday visits and brother-in-law-esque relationships with each other's husbands. But... will it actually turn out that way? Already it's more of a long-distance-family feel than a daily-family kind of thing. Will we stay close and grow closer, or will we drift apart? Are we... family?

Even for them it doesn't last. Monica and Chandler move to the suburbs, changing everything. (I hope I didn't ruin that for anyone.) Friends leave. The end. Although... in real life it's not the end when friends leave - but neither is it the same, and neither is it better.

My real-life community won't be like this fictional one. But they inspire me to ask the question: Is mine enough?

Not Alone

Our choir standing arrangement got switched around at some of our concerts last weekend, and a good friend of mine got moved across the choir to stand beside me one night. She is someone who values authenticity and draws that out in others, and we relate to each other in what goes on beneath the surface. Having her beside me allowed me to approach God more truly through the concert, because I wasn't alone and I wasn't just surrounded with mere acquaintances (nice though they are). I really had the sense that she was there in worship with me - that as I approached God she was walking beside me. It was comforting to know that there was a hand to grab if I needed it, that if I was not well that was okay, and that someone else was sharing this experience.

A few weeks ago in Montana we were asked to share what lies beneath the surface of our lives during our community time. Much of the group already knew the flavor of what I would say, but it was a surprise to some of them (I wish I had caught their faces but I was looking elsewhere). I said that I have a depression problem and that's had big implications for my spiritual life, but I don't know how to interpret them - I don't know if backsliding my way to hell, or if I am just looking at an unrecognized face of maturity. I admitted that I can't say that I love God anymore, and the thought of intimacy with Him makes me very uncomfortable. The person sitting beside me, a guest on our retreat, responded graciously and prayed for me, and I valued his words and the picture of community that they contained so much. He suggested that perhaps God is so close that I don't recognize Him, and offered his opinion that I am going in the direction of maturity, not decline. He prayed that I would be released from the need to love God, for they as a community would love Him for me. He said that they as a community would hope for me. It was so beautiful.

This depth of community seems so rare to me. A place where we would actually be honest, and where we would bear each other's needs... I feel like there is the (unfulfilled) potential for such community at school, but I fear that when I am finished school and my life contains only the work world, I will be cut off from that potential. Seeing a glimpse of amazing community also critiques some of the other communities that I live in. Those friends that I have fun with won't love God on my behalf. I guess that's okay, but not sufficient.

Tired

I like being a student. I like having an excuse not to work full-time, and in fact, that's one of the reasons I went back to school. I've told them that my availability is limited to Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. But unfortunately, there are a lot of things that come up on the weekends that I want to take part in and that conflict with work. Last weekend it was the Montana trip; this weekend coming up is Choir Mini Tour, and there are other choir concerts and an upcoming wedding I've had to take time off for. I feel guilty when I have to ask for more time off on top of my already limited work week. So I try to provide them other days instead. Plus, I need the money, so I don't want to give up too many shifts.

About a month ago I went through my calendar for the whole semester and booked off all the time I'd need. I offered to pick up shifts to replace those I was giving up for the Montana trip, but when I looked ahead to this week I wasn't sure how busy and tired I would be, so I didn't offer any replacement days even though I requested the weekend off for Mini Tour. Then last week when they started to put together the schedule they asked if I would be willing to work any extra shifts. Last week I felt like everything was under control and I was doing fine, so I told them that sure, I could work some weekdays this week.

Now here we are. I'm not sure how things changed so fast, but I am exhausted and grumpy, and the extra shifts I took seem to be a direct cause of that. On Monday I woke up just angry that it was morning and that I couldn't sleep more and that I couldn't come home from class and take a nap because I had to go to work. (Seriously, I left the house yelling under my breath, "Stupid flipping morning!!) Today I was completely demotivated for everything, skipped out on my evening plans, and took a three and a half hour nap after choir. My outline for my thesis is due next week and I haven't even settled on a topic yet. Neither have I done my Greek homework for tomorrow morning.

I need to stop picking up shifts at work. Of the last ten days, I've worked seven of them and had class on seven of them. Even though my semester is a bit slack, that's too much. No wonder I'm tired and overwhelmed.

I wrote this so that in a couple weeks, after I've forgotten about how I feel this week and when they ask if I can pick up shifts again, I'll have a reminder to help me to say no.

The "S" Word

We held a communion service today. Paul says not to take of the bread and cup in an unworthy manner, so communion always causes me a lot of anxiety because I have no idea where I am. Today I sensed I should participate (and then I was told to participate). Still, it was a time of instability for me. I approached, and as I dipped the bread in the juice the chalice bearer quietly declared something along the lines of, "The blood of Christ, shed to show His great, great love for you, Michelle." This was the hardest thing that I need to hear most, and I returned to my seat crying. The emotional stress allowed the thought, "I want to die." My one hope or goal for this weekend was no suicidal thoughts, so this brought a flood of tears, frustration and despair.

One night she shared that the word "suicidal" has been descriptive of her for the last couple years. She has imagined her death and considered how it could be accomplished. What has kept her from acting on it is fear that she would not be remembered and therefore her life has been insignificant, and the knowledge of the pain that this would cause her friends.

This isn't the first time. This isn't the worst time. It tends to happen to me more, and more strongly, when I'm on trips. (That's why I articulated that goal for this trip.) My first choir tour was the worst. I was at the end of a relationship gone bad, finishing a difficult semester, part of a ministry where I didn't feel valued, and in an utterly unhealthy place. I sat on the bus day after day feeling utterly ill emotionally while the thoughts rolled over me like waves that I was defenseless against. At one point I articulated it, though it was hard to choke out, "Every day I want to die."
My last trip to Montreal was pretty bad too. I faced discouragements and insensitivities, and when I cried I found that tears would be accompanied by thoughts that welcomed death. This happened on half the days of the trip, and to be honest it scared me.

She told us about an amazing sense of peace and joy and desire for life God had granted her, and she explained this in the context that she usually feels a bit suicidal, not enjoying life. At the time, I couldn't imagine what it would be like to live that way. (That has changed.)

I have noticed that my default response to stress and conflict is a desire to escape, and death would be the ultimate escape. A wish for death would come almost automatically as a response to situations I didn't want to be in. Everything seemed so awful, and fixing everything that is wrong just seemed too impossible.

Thankfully, for me it has only ever gone as far as thoughts. I have never planned anything, never carried anything out. I think I've always been able to say that although I'm experiencing these thoughts, I won't act on them. I have hope that I never will.

She has attempted suicide seven times. Long ago, in her former life, but still a part of her story. She told me that through all the suicidal thoughts, her rational intention was never to end her life, but the pain just became too much to bear. Now she says she's concerned about me...

I used to have an anti-suicide plan. Years ago, when I acknowledged my depression but had only seen suicidal feelings as a possibility on the horizon. The plan was, if I ever "became suicidal", to call up one of the friends I worked with, guys whose lives I valued, and take them with me to see an out-of-town friend - someone who was wise and strong enough to handle my unwellness and who would pray with me and let me cry. Someone I wasn't afraid to burden.

That plan is a thing of the past rather than the present. For one thing, I'm not in touch with any of those people anymore. And I've realized that I wasn't very clear on when I would put that plan into action - at the first thought or at the first attempt? Plus, I've been able to see more clearly what a gigantic burden that would be to place on someone, and I've had doubts about whether my plan would actually fix anything.

As a child, every night she would cry herself to sleep asking God to take her life.

I hate it that the word "suicidal" covers such a broad range of meanings, from fighting occational "I want to die" thoughts, to carrying out a plan to end one's life. I don't think they all belong in the same category at all, and if I could change our vocabulary to include a scale of terms I would. I think the word tends to connote the more extreme end (since the noun "suicide" refers to the completed act), and to me it seems to imply "reckless" as well. Then when the term "suicidal" is used to discuss the more mild end of the spectrum, it carries more weight and fear than is necessary.

(Although, as I adamantly declare that thoughts of death are way less concerning than suicide attempts, I wonder if I am deceiving myself. Maybe they are classed together because one leads to the other... That hasn't been my experience... yet... and there are countless others would never do anything about their suicidal feelings, but I can't deny that for some people wishes for death are merely a preview of actions. Darn. Am I just being naive? Or is it hopeful?)

He was silent while I spoke at dinner, and later I told him I hoped I hadn't made him uncomfortable. He said no (and actually he was hoping his presence hadn't made me uncomfortable), and he added that the topic is something he can relate to.

My suggestion when I spoke in chapel was to tell someone about suicidal thoughts and feelings. I had once found that helpful - when I was on choir tour, my boyfriend-at-the-time made me tell him. That was the last thing I wanted to do, and I absolutely hated putting it into words. But after I told him (even though his response wasn't particularily helpful), I found that this torrent of thoughts lessened and largely went away.

But... since then, I haven't really taken my own advice. I know what a huge burden it would be to place on people, and I can't be oblivious to what their experience of this conversation would be. I don't know what I would expect people to do or say, and I'm not sure I would want their attempts at intervention. Even when I would want to tell someone, I don't know how to bring it up. "How are you today?" "Oh, suicidal, how 'bout you?"

He slept with a noose under his bed for six months.

Over the summer I had a strange revelation that has actually helped a lot. I realized that although I don't like my life, what I want is not death but oblivion. I don't particularly want to die, I just don't want to be anymore. Death isn't the end, it's the beginning of a whole new afterlife, something that holds a lot of uncertainty for me. I reminded myself of people like Job, who wished that they had never been born. And this reminded me of the director's cut of The Butterfly Effect, where Evan ends his life as he is being born to prevent future disaster and causes his mother such grief. I am sure that my birth and life have brought my Mom joy. Anyway, knowing that I don't actually want to die meant that I could truthfully answer those "I want to die" thoughts with, "No, actually I don't." That really helped, and I think it's a big part of what made these suicidal thoughts more rare lately.

His son committed suicide. He still mourns. That pain is what brought him to Christ.

I've come to the place where I am willing to identify myself as someone who has a problem with depression, and I'm not afraid to say that. But admitting that I have struggled with suicidal thoughts really scares and discomforts me. Right now I seem to be doing well on this front (excluding this morning), but I imagine this isn't the end of this struggle.

It's hard to post this. It's hard for you to know this about me. And I'm not sure if putting this up is the dumbest thing I've ever done.

Can I ask a favor? Don't be filled with worry for me. Like I just said, lately suicidal thoughts have been a surprising rarity and I don't think I would currently be described as "suicidal" in any way. I promise not to kill myself, and if everything gets worse, I promise to seek whatever help I need before it comes to that.

Now you know my secret...

Field Trip

This weekend those in my major are all going on a little retreat down to Montana to have some community time and to meet with a famous author in our field. And I'm nervous.

The reason I'm nervous is because we did this same trip last year, and it was a pretty negative experience. I think it kind of marked the end of the Golden Age of our community for me.

Last year I really anticipated this trip - I had really high hopes for it. I looked forward to spending significant time with all these people that I really valued, and I had the pleasant realization as we split up into separate vehicles that it didn't really matter to me who I sat with, because I liked everyone who was there. And I remember standing in the school foyer waiting to leave and telling my friend that I was just so excited about this trip. It was a giddy feeling. It was great. But it couldn't last - before the end of the day I'd taken an emotional downswing and lost that excitement.

As a result of that emotional crash, my heart felt so empty on this trip, and I felt so needy. I felt uncomfortable in the community. I don't know if it was truth or perception, but it seemed like one of my friends was avoiding me, and that hurt. On one of the nights, another friend and I saw a moon so beautiful that we had to just stop and gaze at it for quite a while - for her this was a powerful time of wonderment and worship; for me, all I could feel was that ache of emptiness.

The night before we left, I spent a long time making cookies to bring for snacks. I made three different kinds to satisfy all the different dietary needs our group has, and it was quite a feat considering all I had was a toaster oven. These cookies sat in one of the vehicles for the first half of our retreat - they didn't even get unpacked. This made me feel like the time and effort I put into making these cookies was just disregarded.

While we were planning this trip, I had asked if we might have a chance to go to a Bath & Body Works since we would be in the States and we don't have those in Canada. I was told that yes, we would make time to do that, so I turned around and told my Mom about that and got a whole list of things she wanted me to pick up for her (she was so excited). But the afternoon we planned to do this on started to run away with us. Most people either had to or wanted to go back to the place we were staying, so we headed back there with the possiblity of going to Bath and Body Works after dropping the others off. As we drove, one of our guests who was in the vehicle with me said, "You know you're not going, right? There's not enough time; they'll be closed." Her "prediction of doom" (I know the language is strong, but those are the words that accompany the memory) made me so sad. I felt like I had been promised, and in turn I had promised my Mom. It hurt that it looked like I wouldn't get to do what was important to me. I stared out the side window, blinking away tears and trying to convince myself that "I have value here, I have value in this group, I have value," because that belief was really being threatened. And although it turned out that we did go to Bath & Body Works, that didn't erase the pain of the earlier tears.

It also hurt to see conflict within our group and the pain that caused my friends. In particular, one of my friends felt disliked by the head of our major. When the time came to load the vehicles and drive home we wanted to switch up the seating arrangement and sit with different people, but our leader refused. My friend believed this was because she did not want her in her vehicle. This really hurt her, and it hurt me too. I would hope for more from our leader. A few days later my friend was asked to leave our major, which caused much pain and awfulness in our community.

Upon returning, some of the guests we brought on our retreat with us, staff from the school, wrote negative reports about the trip. They claimed it was unnecessary and insignificant. That criticism and the resulting defensiveness were really hard.

Other friends who were on this trip last year have other painful memories, but their overall experience was pretty positive. For me, although there were positives (deepening friendships, our night of encouragement), they are overshadowed by the negatives.

So I look forward to this year's retreat with trepidation. Honestly, it's probably not going to be as bad as I fear (I'm not even sure what specifically I fear...) and it can't be as bad as last year. Most of those triggers are no longer around, and I am coming at it with a completely different attitude. You can't disappoint me when I already expect the worst - it can only go up from here.

Thanksgiving

I'm afraid to be fundamentally thankful. I don't mean expressing appreciation to people; I'm talking about an attitude of deep thankfulness directed to God for the good things He has given. It scares me. I've noticed a pattern in my life of losing things soon after I have praised God for them. I saw this years ago, and I've been reminded of it lately. I remember noticing times in my life when I've been doing really well, praising God with gladness, and then immanently falling into a downswing. This week I articulated how I'm really thankful for my car, and within a few hours my car was overheating again (and I thought we'd fixed that...). It's not a good lesson to learn and maybe it's superstitious, but I can't convince myself that the two things (thanking and losing) aren't connected. It's really hard when the act of realizing you enjoy something and expressing gratitude is the act that seems to push that good thing away.

Maybe I should take everything for granted, not notice that I am thankful for anything, not notice that anything blesses my life, and possibly be able to keep what is good. Is it better to have blessings without recognizing them, or to know the goodness of the things in your life and then lose them? Loss hurts, especially when you valued what you have lost.

Sigh, but maybe it's more virtuous to be a grateful person, even if the things you value constantly slip through your fingers.

New Pet

I find myself thinking of things on strings as pets on leashes. Kites and vacuums and that sort of thing.

My Mom came to visit today and she brought me a new pet, to replace the one that died. I'm so excited. I have such a good Mom. (She has really wanted a new one for herself, but she bought me one instead. I am touched.) And this is a pet that I don't have to clean up after - in fact, he cleans up after me!

Welcome to the family, Vacuum Buddy.

Fearing "Alone With"

I hate conflict. I would rather pretend everything is okay and avoid the issues.

In the final months of my relationship with my last boyfriend, I found myself afraid to spend one-on-one time with him. Not that I was afraid of him per se, but at that point there were so many problems in our relationship that I was afraid that if we spent time alone together, those issues would come up and we would have to acknowledge them. These hard conversations would leave me crying for hours, and us no closer to solutions. But if other people were always around we could put on a good face and pretend things were okay, and I prefered that.

Now I notice myself feeling this way about God. I'm afraid to spend time alone with Him because so much is wrong. I don't know how to fix it, and I don't see what He's doing about it. I am afraid that encountering Him will just cause me unbearable pain, on top of the already uncomfortable situation. I don't remember ever knowing these difficult conversations to bring more healing than pain. So I go for pretense and avoidance, which allow me to function.

Perhaps I value functioning too much? I guess God desires brokenness. But how much does He require? Fifteen minutes of brokenness causes me two days of un-well-ness, and if I cry too much I may just cry forever and ever and I can't do that.

Last time the healthy conclusion was breaking up...

undeserved, yet welcome at your table

in this house, yet all alone with you

i am free, yet held within your chamber

only in your presence...

That song makes me feel anxious and claustrophobic.

Random Thoughts

My vacuum cleaner is very sad. Like, pretty much dead. It still works well, it's just falling apart. The first problem I noticed was the plug - I'm not sure what happened but it got all pulled out of shape. One prong was twice as long as the other. I spent some time fiddling with it and got it to the point where I would dare to try plugging it in, but I think I was risking electrocution. It worked though, and I didn't get electrocuted! But then the place where the hose connects to the power nozzle pretty much fell apart, so I had to hold the vacuum cleaner together the whole time I was vacuuming today, just hoping enough suction power was getting through. It's an old vacuum, a hand-me-down, and I don't think it's even worth fixing. But I don't want to not own a vacuum in my new place, so I need to go vacuum shopping soon.

My car is also sad. Not as sad as my vacuum cleaner - it's not dead, but it's not healthy either. It keeps leaking coolant and overheating. Seriously, I refill it every second day. I need to find a time to take it in to the shop again. (Two weeks ago the shop told me they couldn't find any leaks though...) My shop used to be within walking distance from me, but now that I've moved it's not nearly as convenient. Darn.

I have been so tired lately. For the first few days I used the excuse of moving, but I don't know how long that can last. I have an impossibly hard time getting up in the mornings (although so far I've been able to do it on Greek days) even when I've gotten to bed at a reasonable time. And I've been grumpy. I'm starting to wonder if it's depression tiredness... I should be happy to be in a new place, and I am, but my emotions don't always match the circumstances.

I kinda feel like all I talk about is moving and living somewhere new. Sorry. But that's a central thing that's going on for me right now, especially since I'm not really settled yet and I'm still finishing up on the last place. In my thoughts, everything seems to relate back to moving. The past is a closed chapter because I've moved, the present is full of the chaos of moving, and the future will take place in the fresh start that moving provides me. Although the catalyst for me moving was a difficult one, it was for good and I am really glad to be in a new place.

Today a friend of mine taught one of the first-year classes at school. I made it to hear her, thanks to the wake-up/reminder phone call from another friend, and I was so grateful for that! She taught on the Sacred Pathways, and she did a great job. (Sacred Pathways are kind of a spiritual life personality test.) It was interesting to go through this again, to see how I've changed and how I've stayed the same since the last time I took it. I scored highest as a Contemplative - loving God through adoration. I think that was the same as last time, and it surprises me. I guess it tells you what you consider important more than what you are good at. Other pathways I scored highly on today: Ascetic (this probably often goes hand-in-hand with Contemplative because they both value solitude with God), Traditionalist (I love history and I think it can enrich today's worship), and Intellectual (this is the path that I currently pursue most).

Tomorrow I am going out for coffee with Lucas. Yay! We talked about doing this last spring when he was leaving. I'm glad it's happening. It's too easy to just lose people when your primary connection to them ends. It's funny though how life goes on as normal even after people are gone. As wonderful as he is, I'm not sure that I have really sensed his absence... Or maybe missing doesn't happen right away, but comes later. (Plus, my attention has been full of moving so far.)

Our first choir concert is on Sunday. We're supposed to have all the music for it memorized for our next rehearsal... and there's a lot I haven't looked at. A few weeks ago I felt so on top of my choir music, but I've let that slide. I guess I'll blame moving for this too. It will probably turn out fine anyways, but I feel like I can take a lot more pride in a performance when I have been prepared.

I guess I'll stop now, and go to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour. Goodnight!

Goals in my New Place

Having a new place to live kind of marks a new beginning. I don't have to be who I was or do what I have done previously. Here are some things I hope to see myself do in this new place:

a Have people over.
a Eat cereal.
a Eat supper.
a Drink milk.
- Do the dishes almost daily.
a Keep my bedroom tidy.
a Unpack all my books.
a Make the dining room walls look less bare.
- Go to bed early-ish, at least for the first while.
- Want to get up at a reasonable time in the morning.
a Take a bath.
a Enjoy my balcony.
a Do my homework.
a Watch only minimal television.
a Set up my Christmas tree (early December).
a Take down my Christmas tree and decorations by mid January.

Good luck, Michelle!