The Birthday Bash in AZ a few weeks ago. Emily put 26 candles on the cake - 3 for Maddie, 23 for me. There was so much heat, I thought our faces would be singed. But it was fun.

Today was a Remarkable Day

I'm not usually into using the work 'remarkable.' I think it's pretty lame. But let me tell you why my day has been (so far) remarkable.

3 am - wide awake with an attack of the itchies
4:30 am - still awake, decide to shower to pass the time and wash away the itchiness
5:15 am - lay down, start praying for everyone I can imagine
7:30 am - alarm goes off, I turn it off thinking to myself, "I already took a shower today, I can lay here for 5 more minutes."
8:22 am - sit up in bed, look at my alarm clock, and start to panic. Reason for panic is that I'm supposed to be at the bus stop in 7 minutes, and it is at least 7 minutes from our house
9:30 am - computer class with an instructor who is, let's face it, a T.A. who doesn't want to be there. I believe this proceeded from his mouth, "I'm really not a morning person, so this is not that great." Thanks for sharing. Remind me to put that in the subject line of my late assignment - I'm not exactly a morning person, so I knew you'd understand and let this slide.
1:07 pm - swim to the bus stop on campus, soaked jeans up to my knees, soaked notes and important papers in my bag, also wearing a white t-shirt with a scary Native American face on it (Go Missessinewa!) that continues to transform into transparency as I miss the 1:05 pm bus and have to wait for 20 more minutes in the torrential downpour.
1:34 pm - bus driver declares over the crackling speaker that we have to "stop at the bus station to GET ANOTHER BUS," but not to worry because we'll be on our way "as soon as possible."
1:38 pm - transfer at the bus station through the rain from one bus to another, which happens to have touchy brakes, as indicated by the bruises on my left shoulder
1:43 pm - exit said bus 1/4 of a mile from my house and trek through the horizontal rain (somethings do not change anywhere in Indiana), with my drooping, sopping jeans, my sloshing shoes, and my soaked notes.

Oh, what a day! What a remarkable day.

I came across some great quotes. Here they are.

But I was wondering where the wind was trying to take me
overnight, if I never did resist, and
what strange breezes make a sailor want to
let it come to this,
with lines untied, slipping through my fist.
~ John Eldredge


Sometimes I wake, and lo, I have forgot,
And drifted out upon an ebbing sea!
My soul that was at rest now resteth not,
For I am with myself and not with thee;
Truth seems a blind moon in a glaring morn,
Where nothing is but sick-heart vanity.
~ George Herbert, "Diary of an Old Soul"


We have the power either of withstanding the spring, and sinking back into the cosmic winter, or of going on into these "high mid-summer pomps" in which our leader, the Son of Man, already dwells, and to which he is calling us. It remains with us to follow or not, to die in this winter, or to go on into that spring and that summer.
~ C. S. Lewis, "The Grand Miracle" (emphasis added)

The things you manage to forget

Do you ever watch a movie again that you haven't seen in years, and all you remember is that you loved it?

Last night, Bertie and I watched Swing Kids. The few scenes I could remember from it were the very beginning, a death, and a box of ashes. I could remember the feeling of watching it - the poignancy.

I was near tears a few times - friends split by delusions and secrets. And at the end, I was on the verge - until the last 5 minutes.

All I have to say is - what were the writers thinking? How did the director and producer let that get by?

Katie, Bertie and I were actually laughing in the last scene because it was so ridiculous.

"Swing Heil!" Give me a break. No one would say that. That would never happen.

I could not believe that I failed to remember the ridiculousness of the last scene. Never again. Maybe next time I'll just skip that last bit. Chances are good.

Very few things can top 1) dead bugs all over the carpet and a few live ones roaming the same area, and 2) flies buzzing your hair as you study, your food as you eat, and your face as you sit unassumingly reading in the corner.

Damn it all!

I moved. I have a new home. I love it.

My room is huge. The house is spacious. My roommates are spectacular.

The one problem we have is called NO Internet. Which is a downfall, but bless her heart, Bertie has been working on it since last Friday, and it's really stressing her out. We're getting some of the computer-smart friends to come and have a look. One of them has already quit. But there is still hope.

My house is a good 50 minute walk from the Main library where I will be 3 days of the week (so far). It's a fun jaunt, well, if the heat isn't too intense. And I like the idea of getting almost 4 miles of exercise in without even thinking about it. Public transportation is free for me as a student, and that is another plus. I haven't used it yet, but I plan to, when the weather is bad.

This city is gorgeous. And I'm very much excited about what this year holds - I have no idea what that would be, but it can only be good things, with maybe a few unfortunate ones.

I'll post pictures of the house when I get the chance - probably at Labor Day.

Master's Degree, Here I Come!

Transitions

I hate change, generally. Change has been the hardest thing in my life to deal with. Not that I'm alone in the world with this problem, I'm just stating the fact. I suck at change.

Tomorrow I move away, probably for the last time. Hopefully, my junk won't ever again be piled to the ceiling in my parents' guest room and my tiny room here at home will have more than a single pathway to the door. The next step - after a year and a half of school - is Arizona. So home in R--, is not really an option any more.

I'm moving to a beautiful house in a residential area, only 2 miles from campus - close enough to walk, far enough away from the noise. I'll have a little over a week to get settled before classes. And I have no idea what to expect from life this year. It's scary.

Everytime I leave home to live somewhere new, I wonder to myself: Will I be able to handle this? Will this be the breaking point? I guess it's a good thing I have so much self-confidence.

But I'm excited in my own sort of way. I love packing and unpacking - making everything fit perfectly. At least I have that to look forward to.

So long hometown. I'll visit, but I don't plan to stay forever. I turned out alright, so thanks for that, I guess.

I know that I talk about Maddie a lot, but there is a good reason.

She's amazing, and sweet and funny, and God bless her, she's beautiful.

A few nights ago, after a long, tedious day sitting at her dad's office because there was nowhere else to go, she finished dinner and got up from the table saying, "Daddy, can I get you anything?" When he didn't hear her, she stated it again, more clearly, "Do you need anything Daddy?"

Now, as she approaches her 3rd birthday, she is realizing that most other kids have friends. She craves social interaction - which I've never understood - but you can read it on her face whenever we're in public and see cousins, friends, and siblings together. She would give the shirt off her back if she thought it would make her a friend. Sometimes she says to her mom, "I just want a friend, Mommy. A little girl to play with." It's heartbreaking.

She's enrolled in an art class and a dance class this fall, I think they last for 6 weeks each. Hopefully she'll meet some friends there that she can start having play dates and parties with.

As for she and I, we'll continue to dance to her videotapes (which really mean cassette tapes from my childhood that I brought to her) and play with playdough and make up stories, because we're birthday buddies. Tonight, we celebrate (one of her favorite words - celebrate) our September birthdays.

Happy Birthday, Baby.

The first person I saw today in the library was a woman in a black skirt, white t-shirt, and black tennis shoes. Her thick, wavy red hair was bouncing along with her as she headed briskly for the pay phone - out the door directly behind me.

Something was off. I couldn't figure out what it was. I had only seen her for a moment...and yet...there was something. I just couldn't lay my finger on it.

She came back in after using the phone and walked past. I saw her three more times before I realized what it was.

In the 6 inch gap between her long black flowy skirt and her black tennis shoes her legs were showing. And they were hairy. Not hairy like mine usually are, since I'm not known to be the world's most frequent leg-shaver - but hairy in the sense that she doesn't shave her legs. That she hasn't ever shaved her legs.

And I was both disgusted and happy for her in the same breath. Disgusted because her legs looked masculine. Happy because she could live her life as she wanted and wear skirts in public without being ashamed. That takes courage and individuality.

I'm certainly not going to start up that habit, however.

New Family

When Evan gets married in November, he's joining a new family. This is a photo taken from the Gottschalk-Kubala Meet-and-Greet that took place in July at my cousin Brian's house in Indy. Emily has a very good-looking family and luckily we had a very pleasant 9 hours of games, lots of eating, and getting to know each other.

Emily and Evan are in the back - blue and green shirts, respectively. Her parents are beside Ev and her brothers and sister are kind of surrounding her.

Weekdays

Tell me what is so spectacular about life.

You work 5 days a week, if you're lucky, to provide for yourself or your family. The weekends are only 2 days long, and really, let's face it, we spend our Sundays dreading the start of work on Monday.

I never do fun things during the week. The evenings are strictly meant for recouping from working all day and taking care of other things around the house. I guess it's a complex left over from grade school when we weren't allowed to "go out" on school nights, whatever that meant at age twelve.

Last night, I made an exception. I only wish I'd done it earlier in the summer, so I could have known the joys of relaxing during the week.

I visited an old friend. Went for a Motorcycle ride. Spent the evening catching up on life, reconnecting with someone my age (which rarely happens, especially during the week).

When I got home, there was a message from my almost-3-year-old niece. When I called her back, we talked for a half hour, remembering fun things we've done together over the last year and a half. (I'm totally not making this up-she remembers that far back.)

And even though I stayed up later than I should have talking to her, it was the best night I can remember this summer.

There is something beautiful and sacred about reconnecting with people you love. It's a life force all its own.

Why don't I ever remember that?

Today's Lesson in Librarianship

Today's lesson involves job etiquette when dealing with patrons.

If someone begins talking about ear inserts that allow people to communicate directly into your brain and read your thoughts and then says, "You have them, too, don't you. [more of an accusation than a question]. You can read my thoughts right now," put on your most charming smile and say..."I'm sorry, you mistook the library for the psych ward of the hospital."

No, don't say that. But after thinking it, maintain a vacant smile only - no laughing permitted - and shake your head.

Do NOT feed the fire, as it were, by admitting, yes, you do have those inserts and you communicate with extraterrestrials.

I never would have believed the crap that librarians put up with.
The above is a true story.