My apologies to the trees I will destroy in the future.
(I can't believe I just said that.)
(I can't believe I'm advocating the loss of forestry.)
I miss the feel and smell of paper. I knew it well once, and I want those in the future to know it well too.
So, whether or not anyone in the future has an interest in reading what I have to say, I am going to attempt to write, literally write, whatever I usually type. Because although the internet and computers may always be here, there's simply nothing like memories preserved in a physical form of some sort.
This idea was spurred by this post by Lacey Keigley, which spurred my heart to much sentimentalism and good heart-hurt. So thanks, Lacey, for all the hand cramps and pen purchases I may endure.
I also wish I took more pictures of people, instead of places and things. And that we still printed pictures. I want a photographer for my life. Who's up for it?
2.25.2011
2.04.2011
A Français Kind of Day
My adoration for the French language has been reawakened. Maybe because one of my girls is taking Spanish and I feel I must prove superior the language I spent 5 semesters of my life learning. But I do so love it.
But that only serves as an introduction to this post, which can be best described as une mise à jour: an update. Because of late I've only been writing about theories, things I like or dislike, etc. rather than what is actually happening in my life.
My bad, yo.
I'm still working at Tamassee DAR. Everything is pretty peaceful, until my co-Teaching Parent comes in on Wednesdays. The girls don't like her all that much, and it's pretty rough on the both of us. I don't know how to stand up for her when I don't completely agree with how she does things either, but I can't bear to hear the girls talk about her like they do. Two of my eight original girls have gone home (One for good, for the good; One possibly for good, but unfortunate). All of the girls have come to trust me, like me, respect me, and obey me...for the most part. They are human. So they say.
I'm still living in Central, SC, where I'd hoped to stay relatively warm through the winter. I'll blame it on this Southern Weather, 'cause it ain't happening. My relationship with my housemate has gotten better, so long as I don't turn the heat above a chilly 68º and use a lamp instead of the actual lights.
I'm still searching out a lot of things, like where I'll be spending the days of this upcoming sweet summertime and how to trust God actively with my heart. I've gotten much better about the latter of those. The former...is coming to a close. I'm about 85%-90% sure where I'll be, and it's a very familiar but frightening place. The frightening piece is new for me. And usually that means that something big is going to happen. I'm also starting to wonder if the other 10%-15% will be told me or if He's asking me to live that Life of Giant Leaps and just jump. One week to decide.
I've been listening to a lot of Baroque music and French talk radio on iTunes Radio lately. The Baroque is beautiful, calming, and helps with clarity. The French is beautiful, refreshing, and boosts my confidence in meager amounts because every now and again I know what they're talking about.
I've also gotten frustrated with my writing style. I try to be grammatically correct most of the time, I really do. In my writing anyway. But it's not me most of the time. Sometimes it is, don't get me wrong; but sometimes grammar steals my voice like laryngitis.
Bon nuit, mes amis et lecteurs fidèles. J'espère que ces mots vous trouvent bien.
Au revoir pour maintenant!
But that only serves as an introduction to this post, which can be best described as une mise à jour: an update. Because of late I've only been writing about theories, things I like or dislike, etc. rather than what is actually happening in my life.
My bad, yo.
I'm still working at Tamassee DAR. Everything is pretty peaceful, until my co-Teaching Parent comes in on Wednesdays. The girls don't like her all that much, and it's pretty rough on the both of us. I don't know how to stand up for her when I don't completely agree with how she does things either, but I can't bear to hear the girls talk about her like they do. Two of my eight original girls have gone home (One for good, for the good; One possibly for good, but unfortunate). All of the girls have come to trust me, like me, respect me, and obey me...for the most part. They are human. So they say.
I'm still living in Central, SC, where I'd hoped to stay relatively warm through the winter. I'll blame it on this Southern Weather, 'cause it ain't happening. My relationship with my housemate has gotten better, so long as I don't turn the heat above a chilly 68º and use a lamp instead of the actual lights.
I'm still searching out a lot of things, like where I'll be spending the days of this upcoming sweet summertime and how to trust God actively with my heart. I've gotten much better about the latter of those. The former...is coming to a close. I'm about 85%-90% sure where I'll be, and it's a very familiar but frightening place. The frightening piece is new for me. And usually that means that something big is going to happen. I'm also starting to wonder if the other 10%-15% will be told me or if He's asking me to live that Life of Giant Leaps and just jump. One week to decide.
I've been listening to a lot of Baroque music and French talk radio on iTunes Radio lately. The Baroque is beautiful, calming, and helps with clarity. The French is beautiful, refreshing, and boosts my confidence in meager amounts because every now and again I know what they're talking about.
I've also gotten frustrated with my writing style. I try to be grammatically correct most of the time, I really do. In my writing anyway. But it's not me most of the time. Sometimes it is, don't get me wrong; but sometimes grammar steals my voice like laryngitis.
Bon nuit, mes amis et lecteurs fidèles. J'espère que ces mots vous trouvent bien.
Au revoir pour maintenant!
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