How secretive are we . . .
. . . really?
I wonder.
A bluff may have originated from poker, but it's carried far into the worst lies that separates couples, relationships, families . . .
It's just a secret, right?
No person can claim an emotionless state. And with those inbred emotions comes the truth. It's on your face. It's in your eyes. It's in your trembling lips.
It's no secret that I tend to steal lines from movies. Here's an appropriate one: "We're all less mysterious than we think we are."
Truth?
With deeper relationships comes a greater understanding of people, and what shields them: their emotions. With more observations of one's emotions, the greatest secrets are discovered.
Defense is one's worst strategy to guarding the truth. With defense comes a knowledge that something must be defended, and why defend the truth with "truth" when it is already truth?
But there's also another ingredient within the bowl: persuasion. Or rather, modes of persuasion. Dependent on the relationship, persuasion takes on many forms, some unusual, most usual.
I agree that one should know his opponent well, but I think one should know himself better. It's great to know your enemy's strengths and weaknesses, but it's far better to know your own and study them so your enemy is unable to discover yours.
Your greatest opponent is yourself. But you shouldn't keep that a secret.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
What Happens After Watching "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" . . .
The pathetic part is you actually sit there and wait. Yes, you sit there and talk to your phone and hope to God he’ll call.
Maybe only some of us were meant to be tortured.
It’s your ex. It’s your break-up. It’s your end. It’s your issue-that-seems-to-be-taking-over-your-mind-every-waking-moment-of every-waking-day.
Or something like that.
I have not found life to be horribly difficult. I will attest that I make much bigger deals out of things than need-be, but with an accurate, passive, look back, I realize that life has been quite rosier on my side than most.
With one exception.
Yes, that whole “getting-over” stage that it seems everyone refuses to talk openly about but everybody knows about after getting to know you in five minutes.
Or without the five-minute introduction.
Either way, most people will admit getting hit in the face sucks, but heartbreak—there is no comparison.
“Punch me in the face, I’ll bleed.”
Worked for Toby. But movies aren’t real-life.
Those who experience it, hate it. But those who experience remind others they’re not alone.
One man’s tears may be another man’s comfort.
It’s fortunate, it’s unfortunate.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this disease, it’s time. Time may not be an emotion savior, but it’s on your side. It lets you grieve. It’s available. It’s always giving more. It’s reminding you that tomorrow is waiting and that yesterday is over. It’s comforting.
Time is knocking again. Or maybe stepping on the pieces left. Time’s backside is reminding you that it’s not unlimited. It’s long, but certainly not forever.
Time, heartbreak. How much do we really know about these things? How much can twenty years really teach a person?
They teach you everything. They make you realize the sun isn’t always shining. Life isn’t that movie you’re watching, that song you’re hearing, or the game you’re playing.
Here’s what I say: take what you’ve experienced and run with it, not against it.
Time is short, heartbreak is long. You decide which one will change your life.
Maybe only some of us were meant to be tortured.
It’s your ex. It’s your break-up. It’s your end. It’s your issue-that-seems-to-be-taking-over-your-mind-every-waking-moment-of every-waking-day.
Or something like that.
I have not found life to be horribly difficult. I will attest that I make much bigger deals out of things than need-be, but with an accurate, passive, look back, I realize that life has been quite rosier on my side than most.
With one exception.
Yes, that whole “getting-over” stage that it seems everyone refuses to talk openly about but everybody knows about after getting to know you in five minutes.
Or without the five-minute introduction.
Either way, most people will admit getting hit in the face sucks, but heartbreak—there is no comparison.
“Punch me in the face, I’ll bleed.”
Worked for Toby. But movies aren’t real-life.
Those who experience it, hate it. But those who experience remind others they’re not alone.
One man’s tears may be another man’s comfort.
It’s fortunate, it’s unfortunate.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this disease, it’s time. Time may not be an emotion savior, but it’s on your side. It lets you grieve. It’s available. It’s always giving more. It’s reminding you that tomorrow is waiting and that yesterday is over. It’s comforting.
Time is knocking again. Or maybe stepping on the pieces left. Time’s backside is reminding you that it’s not unlimited. It’s long, but certainly not forever.
Time, heartbreak. How much do we really know about these things? How much can twenty years really teach a person?
They teach you everything. They make you realize the sun isn’t always shining. Life isn’t that movie you’re watching, that song you’re hearing, or the game you’re playing.
Here’s what I say: take what you’ve experienced and run with it, not against it.
Time is short, heartbreak is long. You decide which one will change your life.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Applied and Non-Applied Smarts, According to Parents
I, for one, have sat back and laughed more than once at my parents. They're funny people, but they're funniest when they don't realize it.
I'm your typical A/B student. In high school, I was a straight A student who surprisingly picked up salutatorian in my twenty-seven student class.
That act won me my parent's approval - ya know, the look that says, "Wow, I raised a smart kid." That smile that's authentic. That nod exclaiming, "Excellent job!"
Those nods and looks are worth all the hard work, says me. But then once you work hard and make those strides, you might find yourself in a bind when you can't meet up to your once high expectations.
Another word for this could be "college."
*Sigh* yes.
Freshman year, well, I had no other choice BUT to meet those expectations. I didn't struggle since I was taking basic classes, and since I didn't have a very busy social life that year, grades were no problem.
But then sophomore year, reality hit in harder classes and more complicated relationships. My grades began to fall to levels that they had never hit before. I had never ever intended to view those things on my report card.
Suddenly the nods, the smiles, the looks weren't what they used to be. I wasn't the smartest kid anymore, and this, well, was a disappointment to someone who wanted to please her parents, at least in a round about way.
Now let me turn the tables for you. When it comes to academics, my grades, obviously turn my parents' heads one direction or another. But smarts includes more than academics . . .
You have the important things, like text-messaging, loading pictures from a digital camera onto the computer and putting them into files, fixing a printer, working a DVD player, making a picture slideshow, transferring pictures onto a CD . . .
Yeah. I love the generation gap + technological transformation. Those are my tools to proving my smarts. Actually, I don't really have to try.
My parents not only offered - but PAID - me for loading pictures onto a computer for a couple hours. Time equaled money, so I accepted it this time, but wow . . .
For the first time, maybe ever, some kids - in a technological sense - are outdoing their parents. Parents are going to their kids for help instead of vice versa. If there's a different time to live in, we certainly live in it.
I find it hilarious that I can work my butt off for all A's and maybe a B or two, but get the same kind of response from my parents for sending a text message or loading pictures.
I wonder why I don't get quite the same response when I exceed the monthly text limit . . .
I'm your typical A/B student. In high school, I was a straight A student who surprisingly picked up salutatorian in my twenty-seven student class.
That act won me my parent's approval - ya know, the look that says, "Wow, I raised a smart kid." That smile that's authentic. That nod exclaiming, "Excellent job!"
Those nods and looks are worth all the hard work, says me. But then once you work hard and make those strides, you might find yourself in a bind when you can't meet up to your once high expectations.
Another word for this could be "college."
*Sigh* yes.
Freshman year, well, I had no other choice BUT to meet those expectations. I didn't struggle since I was taking basic classes, and since I didn't have a very busy social life that year, grades were no problem.
But then sophomore year, reality hit in harder classes and more complicated relationships. My grades began to fall to levels that they had never hit before. I had never ever intended to view those things on my report card.
Suddenly the nods, the smiles, the looks weren't what they used to be. I wasn't the smartest kid anymore, and this, well, was a disappointment to someone who wanted to please her parents, at least in a round about way.
Now let me turn the tables for you. When it comes to academics, my grades, obviously turn my parents' heads one direction or another. But smarts includes more than academics . . .
You have the important things, like text-messaging, loading pictures from a digital camera onto the computer and putting them into files, fixing a printer, working a DVD player, making a picture slideshow, transferring pictures onto a CD . . .
Yeah. I love the generation gap + technological transformation. Those are my tools to proving my smarts. Actually, I don't really have to try.
My parents not only offered - but PAID - me for loading pictures onto a computer for a couple hours. Time equaled money, so I accepted it this time, but wow . . .
For the first time, maybe ever, some kids - in a technological sense - are outdoing their parents. Parents are going to their kids for help instead of vice versa. If there's a different time to live in, we certainly live in it.
I find it hilarious that I can work my butt off for all A's and maybe a B or two, but get the same kind of response from my parents for sending a text message or loading pictures.
I wonder why I don't get quite the same response when I exceed the monthly text limit . . .
Monday, November 24, 2008
The Then and Now
I go through these times where I have a million and one things I could do, but take time to do something I actually want to do.
Write.
For some people, they use writing for venting, for comtemplation, for creativity, or just for sheer enjoyment.
I find myself in the latter group.
And in all the groups before it, as well.
It's funny - I could write about anything in the entire world. Actually, I have a list of things that interest me that I'm supposedly going to write about eventually, but right now, I just don't want to. I just want to . . .
Write.
I still remember last Thanksgiving. It was a pretty memorable one for me. The usual family came over (my one Uncle) and we had the usual Thanksgiving dinner with the usual five people. It's simple, it's traditional, it's just the way I like it.
But I'll never forget a certain conversation that I had with a friend. And now that I'm home this Thanksgiving, the conversation passes my mind and I think back to last year and how life was then.
THEN was when I was in a group. A clique. A whatever you want to call it. I wouldn't exactly call it a "clique" since it was "open" but why am I using all of these "quotation marks"?
THEN was when life had an ending. I saw life as a box, with walls. I knew what I wanted at the time, and nothing else seemed to matter.
THEN was when I was caught up in the moment . . . all the time. I was always caught up with what happened yesterday, and the homework for tomorrow always seemed to get itself done . . . just not well.
THEN was when I thought that life couldn't get any better or any worse, all at the same time. I thought I knew heartache, and I thought I knew love. And I think I sound like a drunk poet . . .
But then. . . was THEN. This is now.
Now's not Then's greatest friend. Actually, they don't even like each other. At least in my world.
Now I'm learning I don't know what's going to happen from today to tomorrow. And it excites me. I don't have all the answers, and it's a good feeling.
I'm learning to live outside of the box. Not the cliche, but the actual box that I built last year. Well, figurative speaking . . . unless, of course, I'm referring to the dorm . . .
Today, I write. I think. I imagine. I plan. And then I laugh when my plans don't turn out right. But what I plan for most of all, like my good, REAL LIFE friend DAN, is . . .
To be surprised.
Write.
For some people, they use writing for venting, for comtemplation, for creativity, or just for sheer enjoyment.
I find myself in the latter group.
And in all the groups before it, as well.
It's funny - I could write about anything in the entire world. Actually, I have a list of things that interest me that I'm supposedly going to write about eventually, but right now, I just don't want to. I just want to . . .
Write.
I still remember last Thanksgiving. It was a pretty memorable one for me. The usual family came over (my one Uncle) and we had the usual Thanksgiving dinner with the usual five people. It's simple, it's traditional, it's just the way I like it.
But I'll never forget a certain conversation that I had with a friend. And now that I'm home this Thanksgiving, the conversation passes my mind and I think back to last year and how life was then.
THEN was when I was in a group. A clique. A whatever you want to call it. I wouldn't exactly call it a "clique" since it was "open" but why am I using all of these "quotation marks"?
THEN was when life had an ending. I saw life as a box, with walls. I knew what I wanted at the time, and nothing else seemed to matter.
THEN was when I was caught up in the moment . . . all the time. I was always caught up with what happened yesterday, and the homework for tomorrow always seemed to get itself done . . . just not well.
THEN was when I thought that life couldn't get any better or any worse, all at the same time. I thought I knew heartache, and I thought I knew love. And I think I sound like a drunk poet . . .
But then. . . was THEN. This is now.
Now's not Then's greatest friend. Actually, they don't even like each other. At least in my world.
Now I'm learning I don't know what's going to happen from today to tomorrow. And it excites me. I don't have all the answers, and it's a good feeling.
I'm learning to live outside of the box. Not the cliche, but the actual box that I built last year. Well, figurative speaking . . . unless, of course, I'm referring to the dorm . . .
Today, I write. I think. I imagine. I plan. And then I laugh when my plans don't turn out right. But what I plan for most of all, like my good, REAL LIFE friend DAN, is . . .
To be surprised.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Thankful
So this Thanksgiving break is not going to be exactly as I'd plan.
Regardless, I am finding the most unexpected things to be thankful for.
I'm thankful for . . .
1 - Having pink eye last year.
I got pink eye a few days ago, and I happen to have left-over medication = no appointment, no wasted money, no extra medication.
2 - A messy house.
I'm shorter on money this year than I've ever been in my entire life. My parents offered to give me $50 for cleaning the entire house.
3 - Closed doors.
Recently, I was planning on doing Covance to earn extra money for college and a few other things. Unfortunately, I can't because the only study available for me to do has been closed. I, however, can't meet the requirements:
*Be healthy NOW- I have a cold and pink eye
*No allergies to medication - I have a supposed allergy to penicillin
*Be healthy during the study - I get my wisdom teeth pulled five days before the opening day.
So some things are not meant to be. I miss out on more disappointment by not going to the screening date and finding out I can't participate. I'll also get to enjoy my break longer.
4 - Failed attempts.
I couldn't think of a better word. This refers back to my attempt for Covance. Although I can't participate, I am seeing an allergist over break to find out whether I have an allergy to penicillin or not. I never would have considered doing this if I hadn't attempted Covance. If I'm not allergic, I'll be able to participate in future studies.
5 - Friends to share Thanksgiving with.
For those of you who know me, you know that I don't have a big family. My biggest Thanksgiving celebration has included 5 people. This year, we're going over to a friend's house who already has 6 people. I've always wondered what the big celebrations were like, and it looks like I'll get to find out this year.
6 - Jeans.
The world takes these for granted. Going home over the break means I get to wear jeans! How I've missed them . . .
I'm thankful for more than these, but this year is making me especially thankful because circumstances are certainly not what I wish they were.
Regardless, I am finding the most unexpected things to be thankful for.
I'm thankful for . . .
1 - Having pink eye last year.
I got pink eye a few days ago, and I happen to have left-over medication = no appointment, no wasted money, no extra medication.
2 - A messy house.
I'm shorter on money this year than I've ever been in my entire life. My parents offered to give me $50 for cleaning the entire house.
3 - Closed doors.
Recently, I was planning on doing Covance to earn extra money for college and a few other things. Unfortunately, I can't because the only study available for me to do has been closed. I, however, can't meet the requirements:
*Be healthy NOW- I have a cold and pink eye
*No allergies to medication - I have a supposed allergy to penicillin
*Be healthy during the study - I get my wisdom teeth pulled five days before the opening day.
So some things are not meant to be. I miss out on more disappointment by not going to the screening date and finding out I can't participate. I'll also get to enjoy my break longer.
4 - Failed attempts.
I couldn't think of a better word. This refers back to my attempt for Covance. Although I can't participate, I am seeing an allergist over break to find out whether I have an allergy to penicillin or not. I never would have considered doing this if I hadn't attempted Covance. If I'm not allergic, I'll be able to participate in future studies.
5 - Friends to share Thanksgiving with.
For those of you who know me, you know that I don't have a big family. My biggest Thanksgiving celebration has included 5 people. This year, we're going over to a friend's house who already has 6 people. I've always wondered what the big celebrations were like, and it looks like I'll get to find out this year.
6 - Jeans.
The world takes these for granted. Going home over the break means I get to wear jeans! How I've missed them . . .
I'm thankful for more than these, but this year is making me especially thankful because circumstances are certainly not what I wish they were.
Somedays we forget
To look around us
Somedays we can't see
The joy that surrounds us
So caught up inside ourselves
We take when we should give.
So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be.
And on this day we hope for
What we still can't see.
It's up to us to be the change
And even though we all can still do more
There's so much to be thankful for.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Lovers Not So Lovely
Never in my life have I seen something so incredibly . . . twisted,
Bipolar, turned-around, out-of-place, horribly fake yet horribly realistic all at the same freaking time!
My Best Friend's Wedding.
So I'm new to this - I'm guessing 80's - Julia Roberts chickflick. Though, I don't know if this movie actually completes the qualifications for a chickflick.
Whatever your rules are for chickflicks, follow them. But when I classify a typical chickflick - er, the newly-named "romantic comedy" (because what romantic story doesn't have some element of humor?) - I usually end 'em with the dude ending up with the chick in the end. I mean, obviously, what would every desperate Lori Wick-reading single American woman who prides herself on the predictable happily-ever-after-ending do if your favorite romantic comedy's Romeo and Juliet never shared that million dollar smooch that made you flashback to your first kiss?
I'm not sure what I'd do. This virgin lips still enjoys Never Been Kissed since it still applies. Drew and I could have been good friends if she weren't acting.
**Let me take a moment for a few disclaimers for those offended/confused/or scoffing at my multiple mixed metaphors:
Two disclaimers for Miss (or Mrs.?) Wick: This is not a bash to her, I'm simply not a fan of romance novels, nor does reading Lori Wick make you desperate).
Shakespeare disclaimer: Romeo and Juliet are probably the worst examples for lovers in today's chickflicks, but everyone knows who I'm talking about. Just keep lying to yourself - they never killed themselves - Shakespeare was out of his mind!**
Back to My Best Friend's Wedding. First, let's start off with the typical chickflick elements:
*Yes, the beginning follows the quite typical chickflick format: Said boy and said girl used to like each other.
*Add in the jealousy elements, the tricks/lies the one plays and tells because she's in love with the dude. And don't forget that of course the two main people are best friends from the beginning. Very typical.
And now for some seriously ridiculous, unrealistic parts:
*Was anyone else questioning WHY THE HECK Cameron Diaz was playing little miss good girl? That one was interesting. And I doubt many see an 8-year age difference between Diaz and Roberts.
*Best friend man (his name escapes me, so we'll call him Mike) is seriously bipolar. From calling Roberts "beautiful," to complimenting her on her body in little clothing, to wanting to spend the day before his wedding with another woman ONLY with Roberts convinces you that Mike's real love is Roberts.
*George, the gay guy, has gay aspects, but part of the time, he appears straight. For example, when he flies out to see Roberts, [sorry for mixing character and actor names together], they both lie down next to each other. This causes the viewer to almost see THOSE two together.
The sole realistic moment of the movie:
*Here comes Mr. Bipolar. Once Roberts confesses her love after seriously making some horrible choices - all the while, you're screaming at the TV to make her stop, but you're also empathizing with her, cheering her on, because let's face it, who's a huge Cameron Diaz fan? - Mike still ends up marrying Diaz!
*It gets worse when at the wedding, Roberts eyes the groom the entire time. You're waiting for that ONE moment that you wait for in every chickflick you've ever watched. You don't care if the wedding is canceled, ruined, or crashed - you just want to see the right two people together. Besides, Diaz is made out to be somewhat a wuss that can't keep her mouth shut and holds few similarities with the man she's supposed to marry.
*And in the end, the very bittersweet end, I wanted to throw food at the TV, give a standing ovation, go in the corner and cry, and sit dazed, in front of the monitor - all at the same time. Roberts never gets the man of her dreams, and with this action, I refused to dubb My Best Friend's Wedding a chickflick, because it has broken my one rule for a chickflick.
I must give a little credit to whom it is due. George in the end gives a delicious string of words while he's on the phone with Roberts. Moments later, he sweeps her off her feet and depression for a dance to woo away all the complicated pain.
I could never rate this movie, however; I'm left with too many mixed feelings.
If I could take ONE thing away from this movie, I'd say this: Thank God my best friend is the same sex as me.
Bipolar, turned-around, out-of-place, horribly fake yet horribly realistic all at the same freaking time!
My Best Friend's Wedding.
So I'm new to this - I'm guessing 80's - Julia Roberts chickflick. Though, I don't know if this movie actually completes the qualifications for a chickflick.
Whatever your rules are for chickflicks, follow them. But when I classify a typical chickflick - er, the newly-named "romantic comedy" (because what romantic story doesn't have some element of humor?) - I usually end 'em with the dude ending up with the chick in the end. I mean, obviously, what would every desperate Lori Wick-reading single American woman who prides herself on the predictable happily-ever-after-ending do if your favorite romantic comedy's Romeo and Juliet never shared that million dollar smooch that made you flashback to your first kiss?
I'm not sure what I'd do. This virgin lips still enjoys Never Been Kissed since it still applies. Drew and I could have been good friends if she weren't acting.
**Let me take a moment for a few disclaimers for those offended/confused/or scoffing at my multiple mixed metaphors:
Two disclaimers for Miss (or Mrs.?) Wick: This is not a bash to her, I'm simply not a fan of romance novels, nor does reading Lori Wick make you desperate).
Shakespeare disclaimer: Romeo and Juliet are probably the worst examples for lovers in today's chickflicks, but everyone knows who I'm talking about. Just keep lying to yourself - they never killed themselves - Shakespeare was out of his mind!**
Back to My Best Friend's Wedding. First, let's start off with the typical chickflick elements:
*Yes, the beginning follows the quite typical chickflick format: Said boy and said girl used to like each other.
*Add in the jealousy elements, the tricks/lies the one plays and tells because she's in love with the dude. And don't forget that of course the two main people are best friends from the beginning. Very typical.
And now for some seriously ridiculous, unrealistic parts:
*Was anyone else questioning WHY THE HECK Cameron Diaz was playing little miss good girl? That one was interesting. And I doubt many see an 8-year age difference between Diaz and Roberts.
*Best friend man (his name escapes me, so we'll call him Mike) is seriously bipolar. From calling Roberts "beautiful," to complimenting her on her body in little clothing, to wanting to spend the day before his wedding with another woman ONLY with Roberts convinces you that Mike's real love is Roberts.
*George, the gay guy, has gay aspects, but part of the time, he appears straight. For example, when he flies out to see Roberts, [sorry for mixing character and actor names together], they both lie down next to each other. This causes the viewer to almost see THOSE two together.
The sole realistic moment of the movie:
*Here comes Mr. Bipolar. Once Roberts confesses her love after seriously making some horrible choices - all the while, you're screaming at the TV to make her stop, but you're also empathizing with her, cheering her on, because let's face it, who's a huge Cameron Diaz fan? - Mike still ends up marrying Diaz!
*It gets worse when at the wedding, Roberts eyes the groom the entire time. You're waiting for that ONE moment that you wait for in every chickflick you've ever watched. You don't care if the wedding is canceled, ruined, or crashed - you just want to see the right two people together. Besides, Diaz is made out to be somewhat a wuss that can't keep her mouth shut and holds few similarities with the man she's supposed to marry.
*And in the end, the very bittersweet end, I wanted to throw food at the TV, give a standing ovation, go in the corner and cry, and sit dazed, in front of the monitor - all at the same time. Roberts never gets the man of her dreams, and with this action, I refused to dubb My Best Friend's Wedding a chickflick, because it has broken my one rule for a chickflick.
I must give a little credit to whom it is due. George in the end gives a delicious string of words while he's on the phone with Roberts. Moments later, he sweeps her off her feet and depression for a dance to woo away all the complicated pain.
I could never rate this movie, however; I'm left with too many mixed feelings.
If I could take ONE thing away from this movie, I'd say this: Thank God my best friend is the same sex as me.
This Christian College Student's Learned . . .
Living is a learning experience . . .
Especially at college.
I love thinking back to before I came to college. College, then, seemed like a big, scary world, where I would never be able to keep up.
Now I'm trying to keep up with college.
College kind of runs away with one thing, then another. First, ya gotta have that one crush. Yes, on that one person everyone else is crushing on. Then after you've grown up from that, you fall for your best-opposite-sex-best-friend. THEN you realize that you're Julia Roberts from My Best Friend's Wedding, take a semester off from all dating . . . and unfortunately, or maybe only occasionally, start the whole process over . . . unless you learn from your "mistakes." You've now decided that it's time to grow up, be mature, find a real man or woman.
Best advice I've heard so far: Don't settle. Opportunities don't end at Baptist Bible College. ESPECIALLY when the boy or girl pool is under 500 each, save the ones already taken.
Then there's the academics. Yes, that one part you wish you could go to college and not have to deal with, yet simultaneously the MAIN reason you came to college. I love how that works out. Freshman year, you're diligent - or the complete oppostite. You're usually one extreme or the other. This usually depends on how social you become in the first few weeks. I joined the nerds that year. And yes, my grades were good.
By sophomore year, you're either "seriously" dating that first lucky person, or you're looking. You make fun of the freshman. Why? Because you can. You're not that freshman that used to get labled as . . . FRESHMAN! So while you were a freshman, frustrated out of your mind for getting made fun of for your freshmanness - and yes, you knew you had that - you take advantage of EVERY situation to play jokes on your freshman roommate. Plus, you're a sophomore, the o-so wise one.
You still take naps as a sophomore. Maybe not quite daily like you did freshman year, but you find the time. This college thing isn't that bad after all. Why do those ridiculous upperclassman always complain anyways? Plus, you have to take time for Walmart's guitar hero and your group of 6 friends.
Junior year hits you. What's a nap? The dean's list actually requires you to WORK to earn it. Every weekend isn't party time. A job is no longer a money machine, it's a necessity. But your freshman roommate . . . you don't mind so much. You find out from all of your classes that you're not-so-wise afterall, and while your freshman roommate sleeps 2 hours a day and your sophomore roommate is crying over the boy from last week, you're remembering that you're at college TO LEARN!
The creepy part is, while you find yourself disgusted by the younger ones, you see yourself in them just last year or the year before. Maybe that's why I don't mind the underclassman so much. (Disclaimer to those I've complained to about the freshman!)
And you know what ONE thing that's been consistent throughout each year, empty refrigerator, bare portfolio, ripped bookbag, holy wallet, I-just-need-to-drive-somewhere-to-get-alone-but-am-driven-mad-by-all-the-khaki-pant-wearing-college-students?
Wal-mart.
Welcome to Christian College.
Especially at college.
I love thinking back to before I came to college. College, then, seemed like a big, scary world, where I would never be able to keep up.
Now I'm trying to keep up with college.
College kind of runs away with one thing, then another. First, ya gotta have that one crush. Yes, on that one person everyone else is crushing on. Then after you've grown up from that, you fall for your best-opposite-sex-best-friend. THEN you realize that you're Julia Roberts from My Best Friend's Wedding, take a semester off from all dating . . . and unfortunately, or maybe only occasionally, start the whole process over . . . unless you learn from your "mistakes." You've now decided that it's time to grow up, be mature, find a real man or woman.
Best advice I've heard so far: Don't settle. Opportunities don't end at Baptist Bible College. ESPECIALLY when the boy or girl pool is under 500 each, save the ones already taken.
Then there's the academics. Yes, that one part you wish you could go to college and not have to deal with, yet simultaneously the MAIN reason you came to college. I love how that works out. Freshman year, you're diligent - or the complete oppostite. You're usually one extreme or the other. This usually depends on how social you become in the first few weeks. I joined the nerds that year. And yes, my grades were good.
By sophomore year, you're either "seriously" dating that first lucky person, or you're looking. You make fun of the freshman. Why? Because you can. You're not that freshman that used to get labled as . . . FRESHMAN! So while you were a freshman, frustrated out of your mind for getting made fun of for your freshmanness - and yes, you knew you had that - you take advantage of EVERY situation to play jokes on your freshman roommate. Plus, you're a sophomore, the o-so wise one.
You still take naps as a sophomore. Maybe not quite daily like you did freshman year, but you find the time. This college thing isn't that bad after all. Why do those ridiculous upperclassman always complain anyways? Plus, you have to take time for Walmart's guitar hero and your group of 6 friends.
Junior year hits you. What's a nap? The dean's list actually requires you to WORK to earn it. Every weekend isn't party time. A job is no longer a money machine, it's a necessity. But your freshman roommate . . . you don't mind so much. You find out from all of your classes that you're not-so-wise afterall, and while your freshman roommate sleeps 2 hours a day and your sophomore roommate is crying over the boy from last week, you're remembering that you're at college TO LEARN!
The creepy part is, while you find yourself disgusted by the younger ones, you see yourself in them just last year or the year before. Maybe that's why I don't mind the underclassman so much. (Disclaimer to those I've complained to about the freshman!)
And you know what ONE thing that's been consistent throughout each year, empty refrigerator, bare portfolio, ripped bookbag, holy wallet, I-just-need-to-drive-somewhere-to-get-alone-but-am-driven-mad-by-all-the-khaki-pant-wearing-college-students?
Wal-mart.
Welcome to Christian College.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Relationships BEFORE Religion
Unfortunately, I have to write a business paper for my advanced writing class. (Why does this class currently seem to affect my blog posts?)
So . . . I chose to write my paper on my high school. There was just this HUGE new project that was just completed before the beginning of this semester.
While I researched, I somehow found this website (http://www.dailyherald.com/story/?id=221965) that was posting a picture of the finished product (the add-on of the school), with a description of all the things included in the building: the new coffee shop, the 3-court gym, the 12 new classrooms, etc. We're talking several thousand square feet of building! 300,000 to be exact. Incredible.
I read the article, found it rather boring but relevant for my next assignment, and then I came to the end where people could comment. Then again, who actually comments on articles involving a "Bethel Baptist Church"? Evidently, several people fooled me.
The comments and people's opinions were far more interesting than the article itself. One guy called the church a "mega-mall-church." Like that's what every church wants to hear. There were a couple of Christians who commented with Scripture as well as an atheist who threw in his opinion. The conversation/argument/debate/commenting was quite eye-opening to how people perceive something as simple as an article about new buildings within a church as a huge problem. People take things very far in one direction or the other. Who woulda thought a theological (or not so theological) discussion would start over a church building?
Anyhow, as much as I enjoyed reading the conversation, I was bothered by how close-minded people are. I think witnessing is great, and I'm not downplaying anyone's actions or words, but it did hit me with a thought: witnessing to someone you know nothing about and claiming that you have all the answers is . . . well, not pointless, but really counterproductive.
How can you expect to reap results when you've never even a met a person? Whether it's religion, or the last presidential election, or some debate you're having with a person, it's hard to get someone to value your opinion when you know nothing about that person. There are NUMEROUS REASONS people have their beliefs, their convictions, and their opinions (Well, I'm talking educated, logical-thinking people).
My point is, it's great to share truth (or according to most, what your idea of what truth is), but you can't expect people to easily with you right away, or even side at all with you when you haven't established a relationship with them.
I know I'm sticking on the more spiritual side of things, but this idea of pushing your ideas on people before getting to know them was even evident in one of my dorm society meetings. A couple of girls were giving testimonies about different girls in jail that they had been mentoring. They wanted to share the Bible with them, but they wanted to get to know them before talking about religion. Common theme? Establish a relationship before sharing the Bible.
Yes, God wants His Word shared with others--it should be the Christian's main life goal--but shoving it down someone's throat (even in a way in which it seems respectful or kind), may not always be received so kindly by the recipient when he or she has opposing views. (Disclaimer--this is not to say that the people in the Daily Herald article were "shoving it down someone's throat.")
Solid relationships with people (whether casual or close) need to be established before the average person will be open to your opinions on beliefs, whether they we spiritual, political, or of some other importance.
So . . . I chose to write my paper on my high school. There was just this HUGE new project that was just completed before the beginning of this semester.
While I researched, I somehow found this website (http://www.dailyherald.com/story/?id=221965) that was posting a picture of the finished product (the add-on of the school), with a description of all the things included in the building: the new coffee shop, the 3-court gym, the 12 new classrooms, etc. We're talking several thousand square feet of building! 300,000 to be exact. Incredible.
I read the article, found it rather boring but relevant for my next assignment, and then I came to the end where people could comment. Then again, who actually comments on articles involving a "Bethel Baptist Church"? Evidently, several people fooled me.
The comments and people's opinions were far more interesting than the article itself. One guy called the church a "mega-mall-church." Like that's what every church wants to hear. There were a couple of Christians who commented with Scripture as well as an atheist who threw in his opinion. The conversation/argument/debate/commenting was quite eye-opening to how people perceive something as simple as an article about new buildings within a church as a huge problem. People take things very far in one direction or the other. Who woulda thought a theological (or not so theological) discussion would start over a church building?
Anyhow, as much as I enjoyed reading the conversation, I was bothered by how close-minded people are. I think witnessing is great, and I'm not downplaying anyone's actions or words, but it did hit me with a thought: witnessing to someone you know nothing about and claiming that you have all the answers is . . . well, not pointless, but really counterproductive.
How can you expect to reap results when you've never even a met a person? Whether it's religion, or the last presidential election, or some debate you're having with a person, it's hard to get someone to value your opinion when you know nothing about that person. There are NUMEROUS REASONS people have their beliefs, their convictions, and their opinions (Well, I'm talking educated, logical-thinking people).
My point is, it's great to share truth (or according to most, what your idea of what truth is), but you can't expect people to easily with you right away, or even side at all with you when you haven't established a relationship with them.
I know I'm sticking on the more spiritual side of things, but this idea of pushing your ideas on people before getting to know them was even evident in one of my dorm society meetings. A couple of girls were giving testimonies about different girls in jail that they had been mentoring. They wanted to share the Bible with them, but they wanted to get to know them before talking about religion. Common theme? Establish a relationship before sharing the Bible.
Yes, God wants His Word shared with others--it should be the Christian's main life goal--but shoving it down someone's throat (even in a way in which it seems respectful or kind), may not always be received so kindly by the recipient when he or she has opposing views. (Disclaimer--this is not to say that the people in the Daily Herald article were "shoving it down someone's throat.")
Solid relationships with people (whether casual or close) need to be established before the average person will be open to your opinions on beliefs, whether they we spiritual, political, or of some other importance.
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