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!

In

So I moved this week! I now live in my new place. It's great.

Some friends came over to help me move, and that was such a blessing. And my brother came to town to help too and he brought his truck, and I loved that. It took three trips over the span of several hours. I think that the presence of friends made me feel encouraged and made the whole experience much more positive. Thanks, Friends! I appreciated your help so much!

I ran out of time to repack my books so my boxes would be lighter. But I carried the 47-pounder myself, and it didn't kill me! Woo hoo! I was so tired the next day, though.

I like being here. What I notice most is that it is quiet - my television isn't on because there's no one else to turn it on, and there's no one upstairs "sharing" their television and conversation. (Actually I hardly hear my neighbours at all!) So I can read and do homework undistracted anywhere in my place, and I can just sit and enjoy the silence. How wonderful!

I still have a lot of unpacking and some rearranging to do. I need to go buy some more bookshelves. :0) And I still need to go back and clean my old place, and get the last few things out. It'll be nice when that is all finished.

At work I still find myself unconsciously scoping out moving boxes. Then I remember that the moving is done and it feels good.

Death by Moving

I packed a 47 pound box a few days ago. Not that it's a big box - it's medium sized, but it's full of textbooks and deceivingly heavy. But I figured it wasn't that bad. Then today I started taking some boxes over to my new place. I didn't get to that monster one, but the boxes I did move opened my eyes. These weren't heavy boxes, and I only had to climb 25 stairs with them, but it was really hard! I was sweating and out of breath and fearful about future moving efforts. What will I do with the heavy boxes of books? Moving will be the death of me. I'm going to have to try to repack some of those boxes to make them lighter. 'Cause I want to make it to the point where I enjoy living in my new place, not expire before that happens.

Downswing

Snapshots from my day:

Walking to pick my car up at the shop. Thinking about how enjoyable it is to wear boy pants, and how I would blog about that today. About how that's been the personal joke that's brought me much joy lately. :0) Boy pants are awesome!

Skipping chapel. Getting a late start on the day and then going to pick up more moving boxes at work instead.

Mediocre lunch time meeting. (Not as important to me as they used to be...)

Killing time and eating lunch (yay me!) at Wendy's with a good friend. Saving this in my memory bank of ordinary but important times from this, my final year at school.

So far so good.

Going to choir. Singing O Love That Will Not Let Me Go. Finding myself derailed, stability crashing down, issues arising. Not okay for the rest of the day.

Asked to pray at the end of sectional. Asking the section leader to choose someone else.

Standing in the hallway, crying with a friend, who was crying with/for me. Being honest.
"I fear that I will get lost."
"I fear that God's love will let me go."
"It's a beautiful song, but I hate it. And I hate it that I hate it."

Stopping another friend for a hug as we left school. Wishing I could stay there forever, in his safe arms, with his cheek on mine. Answering "I'm kinda grumpy" when he asked if I was alright. Not quite conveying the truth.

Crying on the drive home.

Considering the rest of the evening a write-off regarding anything productive. Popping in a movie that was guaranteed to make me cry more.

Crying at every email I received.
Crying at the movie.
Crying as I write this.

Going to bed with a touch of a headache from all the crying.

Thoughts:

So much for copacetic. So much for doing well.
It almost seems inevitable that I crash.
Bipolar? ...But the highs aren't high or often enough.

When I am not well and I solicit hugs from friends, it is not to give them something or simply to greet them but to try to draw strength and wholeness and wellbeing from them through the contact. I wonder if that's okay-ish...? It really doesn't work but I usually feel like it's worth a try. I wonder if other people do this too, and if some hugs I obliviously give actually involve a cry for wholeness...

I disagree with my own theology. It's one thing to logically and objectively consider doctrines, and another to assess them personally, compared to one's experience.
Where I find myself:
Total depravity? still no
Unconditional election? not sure...
Limited atonement? yes
Irresistable grace? pretty much
Perseverance of the saints? no
It makes me really sad how many things I don't believe anymore (not just related to TULIP).
I don't know how much longer I can stay...
Usually I just try not to think about it. I don't even know how to deal with it.

Those Friends who were there for me today, who I let be there for me, thank you. It didn't make it better, but your company was valuable to me. Thank you for crying with me and understanding. Thank you for the amazing hug. I needed you, and you were there.

Other friends, even those who are closer, more daily friends to me, I'm sorry that I didn't let you in today, and that you had to find out about my crisis on my blog. I just couldn't. For some reason sometimes it's easier to be honest with those who aren't quite so close.

I wonder how long this will last. I wonder if it's just a bad day, and if I'll even remember it next week if you bring it up. I'm sure I'll even out to meh (instead of the current tearfulness) soon enough.

Sigh.

o wondrous love that will not let me go

i cling to you with all my strength and soul

yet if my hold should ever fail

this wondrous love will never let me go

?

Word of the Day: Copacetic

Copacetic: fine, completely satisfactory, okay. (www.dictionary.com)

A guy I used to work with introduced me to this word. I like it.
I wonder, though, how cheery the connotation is. If I say, "Things are copacetic," will it sound like, "Everything's so wonderful!!" or like, "Things are alright."?
Currently I am doing well. Maybe tomorrow if someone asks how I am, I will answer, "Copacetic!" with a smile, and start to spread this word of the day.

Decisions

I've had a couple of decisions come up lately. School-related things. In the big picture they're really not a big deal, but I'm not sure what to choose, and I need to decide really quickly. So I thought that writing might help me process.

The first decision is regarding choir and singing. I probably enjoy it more than I realize, but one problem that I have is that I really don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what is good and what is wrong in singing and it would probably be good for me to receive some personal teaching. I've thought about taking voice lessons, and if I am ever going to do so it should be at a time when I am singing regularily so I can use what I learn - like now, while I am in choir. But the thought really really scares me. It took a lot of effort for me to indicate my interest to my choir director, who's offering voice lessons through the school. He got back to me with a not-so-eager response because I don't want to do it for credit (I don't want to pay more, do a recital, or do a jury for credits I don't need, but it makes it a little trickier for him). Now I don't know if I should pursue this anyways, or just take the easy path and let it pass by. I guess I don't have to take voice lessons from this guy - other teachers wouldn't care so much whether I do it for credit or not.

The second decision I am facing pertains to classes. I have a conflict between two things I want to take this year: Greek and World Civ. (Interestingly enough, these were both classes that I was excited about not taking when I didn't think I was finishing my degree.) I have to take World Civ: it's required for my degree. And I love history, and the Prof seems great. We're talking about Egypt, Greece and Rome in the first semester and I think that will be really interesting. I want to take Greek: I excelled at it last year and that was so affirming, and I would love to learn more. I could even see my future in Greek - when I looked into seminary programs (for fun and possible long-term plans) what really caught my eye was the Masters programs with concentrations in Biblical Languages, the ones that would qualify me to be a Greek teacher.
Both classes are on the schedule at 8:15 on Mondays and Wednesdays. I've known about this scheduling conflict since the Spring and I've done what I can to resolve it. The Prof and the Registrar suggested that I just register for both courses, and Greek (being a small class) would get moved to a time convenient for everyone. When I saw the same schedule, unchanged, come out this fall, I was disappointed and thought this would mean I couldn't take Greek, since World Civ was required for me and Greek was merely an unneeded elective. But the Prof told me we'd just try to hold the class at a different time, regardless of what the schedule says.
It turns out that couldn't be; there is no other time that works for everyone. So the Registrar and Dean are offering me a deal: they will allow me to be exempted from World Civ so that I can be available to take Greek. World Civ 1 will no longer be a requirement for me. I didn't expect to face this choice! I expected that if I could only take one, Greek would have to go, no question. Now that I have to decide, I don't know what I want! (Another factor that complicates matters slightly is that fact that I have already purchased textbooks for World Civ, they were expensive, and I've started hilighting them...)
I will probably choose Greek, it just feels funny to let go of what I thought was a given (World Civ).
I could always take World Civ by correspondance, and I could do that at any time; it wouldn't have to be now since they say I don't need it anymore and it would just be for learning purposes. I was kinda looking forward to taking them both at the same time though - to learn about ancient Greece while learning Greek. But it would save me money to drop a class. But it would be hassle to drop down to part time. But it would give me more time for my thesis, and for visiting and coffee!

Sigh. I don't know what to do with my own life.

Update 09/10/07 I chose Greek. And I think I'm choosing voice lessons from a different teacher.

Party On

So once I move, I plan on actually having people over to my house. No one comes over to where I currently live because I'm not proud to be here and my place is always a disaster (and my roommate was always sleeping on the couch, which made it kinda awkward to have guests), but hopefully that will all change. Here are a list of some social affairs I hope to host:

a Moving Party?
a Housewarming Party
a Blitz Night
a Homework Party
a Thesis Party
a Knitting Party
a Tea Party (please, come over and help me drink all the tea I own)
a Dinner Parties (assuming/hoping I start cooking again)
a Movie Night (hmm, but all I have is VHS...)
- Foot Spa Party
a Chocolate Fountain Party
a Cream Puff Party (that's for you, Danaya)
a Ice Cream Party (perhaps even Ice Cream Making Party)
a Sleepover?

There's the possibility that I will get lonely because I won't have a roommate, so I invite you guys to come and keep me company and be my part-time roommates!

P.S. Those of you who live far away, I miss you!