Second.

I didn't completely forget about this thing. I did forget the password (no worries, I set it this time so my computer remembers it for me). It's been not quite a month since my last post. I think this is going pretty well so far.

What can I tell you that will hold your attention? Maybe that I've decided to not care how professional (or not) my eventual career looks on paper? Or that I'm not doing the wisest thing (through practical eyes) about my graduate school decision? Fine. I'll start with those.

Side note: I hate that when you push tab, even in a text box, it moves the cursor to the next text box. Why shouldn't it just tab like a normal document? Oh, the extravagantly simple things that bug us nowadays.

I'ma try to get into Clemson University for graduate school (cheers all 'round, except from my mom). BUT, not into a residential program. I would if they offer this major residentially, but they don't, so I'm not. It's an online Master's in Youth Development Leadership. I looked up the courses for it (all 36 credit hours worth) and fell in love with the idea. I'm fairly certain I popped my hip out of joint I fell so hard. The classes are about the very things I'm passionate about: how to help teenagers make better decisions, how to help them grow up healthy, even how to write grant proposals to be able to fund programs. Perfect. Only it's not 'practical' because even though it's through Clemson, some employers still don't like the online part. And all I really want to do as a career is hang out with teens and pre-teens. If I can get paid for that, it's even better. A camp or group home atmosphere would be ideal, and this degree would be beneficial in either of those fields, neither of which appears 'professional.' I've been warned against this course of action by one of my favorite professors, but he's not me, though I admire his intelligence and heart very much.

[Special thanks to Jes Billet for waking me up to what I had given up on during a one-hour happen-stance conversation in the Tilley Center last week. She and I have the same heart for teens-n-such. She's wonderful. Know her if you can.]

Any other news? I finally got those Chaco's. Never fear Teva dears, you will still be worn on occasion. Probably in the mud though. I'm currently stretched to a 12 gauge earring and will go up to a 10 next month. My phone is dying and alerting me of this every 5 minutes. I have 2 weeks until Spring Break (whose only benefits are the opportunity to read a book/write a report and work on the blanket I've been crocheting for months now. And the possibility of seeing Anna Beth, whom I will live with should I get into Clemson).

All these pictures you see in my posts and my background, God has blessed me with the equipment and ability to take. I hope you like them. I do. PSYC 430 with Dr. Scott is possibly the most chill class to have ever existed. Just so you know. You're welcome. Have a good day, loves. Because for once, I've had a good week.

First

I don’t really know why I started this blog. I’ve done this before: found someone else’s, said “Hey, that sounds like a good idea! Why don’t I start one?”, started one, then fade out quickly into oblivion, leaving my faithful and eager readers dying to know what the next chapter in my life holds. Okay, so maybe the last part isn’t quite true. I fail. Not epic fail, but just fail. Too many things have become ‘epic’ or ‘awesome,’ but that’s another blog (that I’m going to skimp out on probably).
Right now I’m enjoying some swing music, wishing there were a swing outside my dorm I could sit in, or perhaps a hammock. It is warm today; even this chill-getter could wear her Teva’s comfortably. (I’m desperately trying to find some cheap Chaco’s but don’t tell them that.) But again, that’s not the point I’m trying to make.
I hate it when the obvious strikes me, especially when it strikes me through music that is cleverly using a cliche to eat at my soul. The Wedding (my new favorite band) has a CD out called ‘Polarity’ on which there’s a song called ‘This One’s for You’ in which there’s a line that says, “You gotta get, get over yourself a little to see the grass is green.” I hate that. But I love it. They make it work somehow, and it stuck in my head for days, until God accomplished through it what He had intended to. He cut with that rusty old cliche to my heart (it may well be infected now) and told me to (wo)man up.
I’ve been just sitting here complaining, not outrightly, but in my head(heart) about Liberty University and how I don’t really want to be here, or really be anywhere but with those few people I love dearly and understand from where my passions come because they have them too. I’ve also got it set in my head that I deserve to be somewhere academically better than LU. This is the first semester that I will be challenged to any great extent (assuming this semester does challenge me) and that frustrates me, since I’m a junior. The biggest fight I’ve fought while here at LU hasn’t been in the classroom, it’s been in my heart, against bitterness and pride. That’s why the song ate/is eating at me. Because even though it’s winter in Virginia, the grass is green, and has been for quite some time.
Life doesn’t suck for me. That’s a blessing. I will get out of undergrad school with less than $20,000 of debt. That’s a blessing, considering the alternatives and my family’s finances as well as mine personally. I have a 4.0 GPA. That’s a blessing. I was able to live a dream last summer (as cheesy and childlike as that sounds). That’s a blessing. I ate lunch and dinner today. That’s a double blessing. I was able to take a shower today. That’s a double blessing too (for me, and those around me). I know how to read and write. I have a car. I lack nothing that I absolutely need, and have more than I need. People are out there that love me even through my stupid pride and blindness, which led me to tell you about that GPA up there. I have potential still to be found and filled. I know what love is, in all its forms (maybe not fully in motherhood or romance, but I’ve at least tasted those). I can see color, smell smells, taste tastes, hear sounds, feel feelings, and touch things. I am at perhaps one of the most unique accredited universities in the world (which might be why God put me here). I learn from world-famous professors. I am graduating from LU May 2010, finishing in 3 years. I have the ability to dream/hope/plan/listen/follow/run/think/smile/dance/jump/roll down hills/climb on roofs/make messes...And all these things are blessings from my Adonai.
Here’s the thing. My pride gets in the way of all this. Notice how I kept saying “I...”? Yeah, that should say, “God has given me..” But it doesn’t. That’s really the one characteristic that I cannot keep a handle on. Pride. I wish I could shoot it in the R. (I think that would correlate to its jugular).
Everything is good here. Could it be better? Shoot cheah it could. But it could be crazy times worse, so I will thank God for what He has given me and move on, hopefully leaving Stacy Grump McGrumpy behind. (yeah I’m lame, wat y’ gon’ do ‘bout it, son?) Yeah, I just went there. And I’m staying. [Dag, she means business yo]

This is starting to get ridiculous so I’ma head out. Also, if this went any longer, no one would read it, assuming you’re not caught up in the hype about A.D.D. and haven’t stopped reading already. [This one thing I will not give up yet: my critical attitude toward ADD and ADHD, not just yet. Not without more conclusive research on upbringing styles and media influences.]