Can I just say that I really want to be a lion now? It's a rough life--the potential for pride exile, being pushed around by a player male lion who doubles as your protector, and having to catch your own food--but I would be a lion. How sweet would that be?
Ever since I went to Kenya this past summer, I've developed a rather unhealthy obsession with elephants and lions. Elephants are just plain awesome and the day Disney makes a documentary about elephants will be one of the happiest days of my life. But Disney has made a documentary about lions. My first encounter with these magnificent creatures was when I saw two lionesses lounging on these two trees. They were stunningly beautiful and amazingly powerful. They scared the heck out of me, but I was completely rapt with them. Then, my last morning in the country of Kenya, I saw two more lionesses and, gasp, two cubs who were wrestling with each other. The moms were watching us wearily but were also keeping a keen eye on their vulnerable little ones. It was so, so cool.
Then African Cats came out. And my life was made.
I won't ruin it for you (ha, yeah right, as if anyone reads this anyway), but you'll probably be disappointed in the way that some of the lion drama turns out. I was. Warning: good guys don't always win. But any Maximum Ride fans will be slightly amused at the parallels in the lion world and in the book world. If you have no clue what I'm talking about, don't worry about it. I'm just embracing and flaunting my nerdiness. But really, it is a powerful story about real dangers of a world that humans can't possibly understand, even with the help of Disney. The cycles of the African savannah and the circle of life (one of the many things "The Lion King" nailed as pertaining to the life of a lion) are amazingly portrayed and I am awestruck by how brutal but beautiful they are.
The cheetah part was cool too. The speed of those creatures is mind-blowing. And they're just beautiful animals.
Though rough and rather terrifying, I still want to be a lion over a cheetah. I would rather travel in a pride than fly solo. Or run solo, rather. Meh, you know what I mean.
Well, it's 1:40 in the morning. I should go to bed. Curse you, late night/early morning writing urge!
Lions>humans. I mean really, you try jumping a wildebeest with your fingernails and let me know how that works out.
No, I don't need you to point out that lions don't have thumbs and, though we can't kill a wildebeest with our bare hands, they can't do x, y, and z that we can.
I just think lions are really awesome. If you want to get me a pet one, I wouldn't oppose.
Okay, I'm done. For real now.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Me. As of 4/29/2011.
I am a nineteen year old girl who enjoys a lot of little things in life. Little known artists, books, pro baseball and college football, narrating my life in my brain, mumbling to myself, forgetting things, being scared easily, taking too-long showers, forgetting to finish making my bed, watching old seasons of ER, and freaking out because the 3D flower on my shirt scares me sometimes are all parts of my life. I'm the kind of girl who lives for rainy days. I love lightning and thunder. I love yawning. My friend and I are constantly in battle to determine how girly I am (it's to the point where I get excited when I get girl points). I'm obsessed with middle schoolers. One of my students I teach taught me a turtle dance and so now I tell everyone about it. I need to read my Bible more. I sing too loudly too often. And I am a terrible singer. I've eaten ice cream every day this week. My new favorite drink at Sonic is a strawberry sprite. I'm obsessed with my church. If you asked me to name 10 Rangers, I could with almost no hesitation. I feel like I repeat myself a lot. I get easily distracted but have somehow never been diagnosed with ADD. My dad and I are the only ones in our family who don't have that condition. It annoys my mom how goofy my brother and I are together but we both know she'll miss it next year. I wear my emotions on my sleeve. Sometimes I can't take a joke. I'll cry when the last Harry Potter movie comes out. Fred dying just went too far, JK Rowling. Whenever I type in "Parachute" to my iTunes search bar, the song "Yellow" by Coldplay comes up because it was on the album titled "Parachute" but I'm just looking for the band. I'm so excited for college. I love weddings. I'm not ready to get married or anything, but I just really love weddings. Rhinestones are tacky. Sometimes, you can tell exactly what I'm thinking or feeling. Other times, I can hide it. I have a tendency to mask myself. Middle school was the worst time period in my life. My grandfather died on May 9th, 2009. I miss him dearly. My grandmother is one of the funniest people I know. When my dad informed me that TCU's baseball team beat the "little Aggies", I not-so-kindly reminded him which school he was about to start giving money to. Thanks, and gig 'em. Writing is the anecdote to life. I hate poetry. It's too cryptic. Blood and guts don't bother me, but bones freak me out. One of my favorite songs from Pine Cove is "Oh them lions they can eat my body but they can't (SLINKY!) swallow up my soul/they keep on trying to crash my party but they can't (SLINKY!) get control/no way baby/no way baby/no way baby." My ab work out comes from laughing. I will need serious motivation to work out at A&M. I hate math and it hates me. Getting a Mac was one of the best decisions of my life, right after becoming a Christian. "Hamilton" was my iPod password for a while. Yes, as in Josh Hamilton. Don't judge me. I love Twitter. It's so entertaining. I applied to a scholarship in January and was supposed to have heard back by February 26th. I still haven't heard back. This has no paragraph breaks. My last piano recital ever is in 15 days. I'm on page 96 and word 36,050 in The Ghost Kids. Wowzers.
There's still so much more stuff to write about, but it's 12:42 in the morning and, therefore, time for bed.
There's still so much more stuff to write about, but it's 12:42 in the morning and, therefore, time for bed.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
The anvil has been removed from my chest.
Yep, I am officially done with Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment. I had a great Easter. Toby Turner had a 7 minute video blog today. It's currently storming outside. Tomorrow I get to hand in an essay. My bed is really comfortable. It's a decent hour. I'm wearing a t-shirt representing one of my favorite singers. Tomorrow is the only day this week I have to be at school before 11:30. The Rangers swept Kansas City this weekend.
Yeah, you could say that I am a very happy girl right now.
A VERY HAPPY GIRL.
Right now, in this moment, I could stay happily. I don't have any major stress (for the moment) and this week will be incredibly chill. I am so content.
I realize that I'm not really saying anything of substance right now. I just thought you should know that I'm in a good place emotionally and spiritually. God has been so good. It takes a crazy, stressful, and overwhelming week to remind you how blessed you truly are. And when you sit back and look at your finished work, you feel satisfied. When you hear the rumble of thunder, you feel comfortable. When you listen to one of your favorite songs, you feel great.
When you read those last three sentences, you feel a a judgement coming on about how corny I am.
Don't judge me.
This is what happens when I've been freaking out from writing a seven page essay and I finish it: complete nonsense.
So, good night. Sorry you had to read my terrible ramblings about nothing. Welcome to my life.
Yeah, you could say that I am a very happy girl right now.
A VERY HAPPY GIRL.
Right now, in this moment, I could stay happily. I don't have any major stress (for the moment) and this week will be incredibly chill. I am so content.
I realize that I'm not really saying anything of substance right now. I just thought you should know that I'm in a good place emotionally and spiritually. God has been so good. It takes a crazy, stressful, and overwhelming week to remind you how blessed you truly are. And when you sit back and look at your finished work, you feel satisfied. When you hear the rumble of thunder, you feel comfortable. When you listen to one of your favorite songs, you feel great.
When you read those last three sentences, you feel a a judgement coming on about how corny I am.
Don't judge me.
This is what happens when I've been freaking out from writing a seven page essay and I finish it: complete nonsense.
So, good night. Sorry you had to read my terrible ramblings about nothing. Welcome to my life.
Friday, April 22, 2011
The Resurrection
I wrote part two of the epic love story last year in 2010 and am now, because it is in season, putting it up on the blog instead of keeping it on the FB. "The Crucifixion" was written before I saw The Passion. I have no words to describe what I felt when I saw that. Shocking, I know. But anyway, if you haven't seen that movie, I would highly recommend it. It's traumatizing but so...eye-opening. Very stunning and very graphic. Anyway, I'm going to put up part 2 of the story. Of our story of redemption and life.
"The next day [the day after Jesus' death], one of the chief priests and the Pharisees went to Pilate. 'Sir,' they said, 'we remember that while he was still alive that the deciever said, 'After three days I will rise again.' So give the order for the tomb to be made secure until the third day. Otherwise, his disciples may come and steal the body and tell the people that he has been raised from the dead. This last deception will be worse than the first. 'Take a guard,' Pilate answered. 'Go, make the tomb as secure as you know how.' So they went and made the tomb secure by putting a seal on the stone and posting a guard." Matthew 27:62-65. So, there you have it. One large boulder over the tomb of the "deciever". Check! Pretty sure that thing was HUGE and took several men to move it. And, I mean, that probably wouldn't be a problem for the disciples because they probably could get enough man power to move it, but since there was a guard stationed there who could call for backup? Hmm, might be a significantly more difficult task of stealing the body. Something that the disciples weren't planning on doing anyway. But something that I just noticed in the passage is that the Pharisees still, STILL, called Jesus "the deciever". WHAT THE HECK. Like, was the storm, splitting tapestry, and earthquake not enough to prove that Jesus was the Son of the Living God? They were stubborn little suckers, those teachers of the law were. Jeez that just irritates me to pieces! How can they still not believe that Jesus was who He said He was? Anyway, just a little Biblical/historical angst there for ya.
"After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. The angel said to the women, 'Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay...So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly, Jesus met them. 'Greetings,' he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him." Matthew 28:1-9. A few things that make me kind of laugh about this passage. First of all, I think it's funny that Matthew specifies Mary Magdalene and then just calls the other woman "the othe Mary." Ha, funny. And then Jesus says "Greetings!" to them. For some reason, that strikes me as very Star Trek-ish. I've never seen anything related to Star Trek, but I just feel like they would say something like "Greetings". Okay, so personal moment here. My grandfather died last May. He's buried in this cemetry in Henrietta, TX with, like, the majority of my mom's side of the family. I've visited the site twice. Anyway, say next time I go over there and these...beings appear and are like "Uh, Linley, your grandfather? Yeah, he actually just rose from the dead. Go tell your family." Pretty sure I'd FLIP OUT. Like, seriously? Whaaaat? The crazy part is that it would be so much more epic because, frankly, my grandfather didn't take on the sin of the world when he died. He died of a heartattack, but that's irrelevant. The fact that the women were approached by angels who scared these two Roman guards so badly that they were like dead men and told them that their savior was alive is RIDICULOUS. And then they see Him!! Mind. Blown.
So, I won't quote the next part, but basically the guards who "were like dead men" wake up and go tell their commanding officer or whoever and the lead guy is like "uhh, just say that his disciples came and stole him in the night and the governor will be satisfied and you won't get in trouble." Brilliantly concieved plan, isn't it? Gotta love those Romans! But that kind of hurt Jesus' cause because for those who didn't see Him think that his body was just stolen. Something to ponder...
"Then the eleven [Judas hung himself] disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, 'All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28:16-20. Dude, I love that passage. It's called The Great Commission and it should be every Christian's life verse. Jesus came back from the dead, he was DEAD, to give the disciples, to give the world, this mission. The guy who has control over the earth and the heavens gave us this mission. Crazy. And my favorite part is when Jesus says that He is "surely" with us until the "very end of the age." Don't you just love that? For me, it's such a comfort. I mean, I'm going to Kenya this summer. It's kind of freaking me out, on a bunch of different levels. But the knowledge that He will be with me when I'm across the Atlantic in a place that I've never been to before is such a relief, espeically if you're kind of a worry-wart like me. But I don't have to go to another continent for Him to be with me. Heck, I could be in my room and He's with me. You're looking for protection? You've found your shield.
Raising from the dead isn't something light and fluffy. He was DEAD. No pulse. Flat-lined. Guarded in a tomb with a huge boulder in front of it. And yet...Well, I don't think I have to reiterate how awesome that is. In the words of one of my favorite songs, "You are stronger, you are stronger; sin is broken, You have saved me. It is written, Christ is risen. Jesus, You are Lord of all!"
Christ died for YOU.
Live. For. Him.
"The next day [the day after Jesus' death], one of the chief priests and the Pharisees went to Pilate. 'Sir,' they said, 'we remember that while he was still alive that the deciever said, 'After three days I will rise again.' So give the order for the tomb to be made secure until the third day. Otherwise, his disciples may come and steal the body and tell the people that he has been raised from the dead. This last deception will be worse than the first. 'Take a guard,' Pilate answered. 'Go, make the tomb as secure as you know how.' So they went and made the tomb secure by putting a seal on the stone and posting a guard." Matthew 27:62-65. So, there you have it. One large boulder over the tomb of the "deciever". Check! Pretty sure that thing was HUGE and took several men to move it. And, I mean, that probably wouldn't be a problem for the disciples because they probably could get enough man power to move it, but since there was a guard stationed there who could call for backup? Hmm, might be a significantly more difficult task of stealing the body. Something that the disciples weren't planning on doing anyway. But something that I just noticed in the passage is that the Pharisees still, STILL, called Jesus "the deciever". WHAT THE HECK. Like, was the storm, splitting tapestry, and earthquake not enough to prove that Jesus was the Son of the Living God? They were stubborn little suckers, those teachers of the law were. Jeez that just irritates me to pieces! How can they still not believe that Jesus was who He said He was? Anyway, just a little Biblical/historical angst there for ya.
"After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. The angel said to the women, 'Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay...So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly, Jesus met them. 'Greetings,' he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him." Matthew 28:1-9. A few things that make me kind of laugh about this passage. First of all, I think it's funny that Matthew specifies Mary Magdalene and then just calls the other woman "the othe Mary." Ha, funny. And then Jesus says "Greetings!" to them. For some reason, that strikes me as very Star Trek-ish. I've never seen anything related to Star Trek, but I just feel like they would say something like "Greetings". Okay, so personal moment here. My grandfather died last May. He's buried in this cemetry in Henrietta, TX with, like, the majority of my mom's side of the family. I've visited the site twice. Anyway, say next time I go over there and these...beings appear and are like "Uh, Linley, your grandfather? Yeah, he actually just rose from the dead. Go tell your family." Pretty sure I'd FLIP OUT. Like, seriously? Whaaaat? The crazy part is that it would be so much more epic because, frankly, my grandfather didn't take on the sin of the world when he died. He died of a heartattack, but that's irrelevant. The fact that the women were approached by angels who scared these two Roman guards so badly that they were like dead men and told them that their savior was alive is RIDICULOUS. And then they see Him!! Mind. Blown.
So, I won't quote the next part, but basically the guards who "were like dead men" wake up and go tell their commanding officer or whoever and the lead guy is like "uhh, just say that his disciples came and stole him in the night and the governor will be satisfied and you won't get in trouble." Brilliantly concieved plan, isn't it? Gotta love those Romans! But that kind of hurt Jesus' cause because for those who didn't see Him think that his body was just stolen. Something to ponder...
"Then the eleven [Judas hung himself] disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, 'All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28:16-20. Dude, I love that passage. It's called The Great Commission and it should be every Christian's life verse. Jesus came back from the dead, he was DEAD, to give the disciples, to give the world, this mission. The guy who has control over the earth and the heavens gave us this mission. Crazy. And my favorite part is when Jesus says that He is "surely" with us until the "very end of the age." Don't you just love that? For me, it's such a comfort. I mean, I'm going to Kenya this summer. It's kind of freaking me out, on a bunch of different levels. But the knowledge that He will be with me when I'm across the Atlantic in a place that I've never been to before is such a relief, espeically if you're kind of a worry-wart like me. But I don't have to go to another continent for Him to be with me. Heck, I could be in my room and He's with me. You're looking for protection? You've found your shield.
Raising from the dead isn't something light and fluffy. He was DEAD. No pulse. Flat-lined. Guarded in a tomb with a huge boulder in front of it. And yet...Well, I don't think I have to reiterate how awesome that is. In the words of one of my favorite songs, "You are stronger, you are stronger; sin is broken, You have saved me. It is written, Christ is risen. Jesus, You are Lord of all!"
Christ died for YOU.
Live. For. Him.
The Crucifixion
So, I wrote this 2 years ago about the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Surprisingly, it isn't terrible writing and I just decided to post it up on the old blog instead of letting it waste away on Facebook. Don't judge 17-year-old Linley's writing. And here's the death of our Lord put in my terms.
"'What should I do, then, with Jesus who is called Christ?' Pilate asked. They answered, 'Crucify him!' 'Why? What crime has he committed?' But they shouted all the louder 'Crucify him!'." This, from Matthew 27:22-23, obviously, is when Pilate and Jesus are before the masses. The masses heard about Jesus and all he promised. His promises to them (and us) were like promising me a giant Reeses cup, one that never ended and was always tasty, and then me going, "NO! GO DIE!!". Pilate, poor dude, doesn't know what the heck to do with Jesus: a reaction Jesus probably got quite a bit. The teachers of the law and the religious leaders had bewitched them [the massive crowd in Jerusalem] into thinking that Jesus was just an impostor. So, as we all know, when Jesus is put onto the stand, the crowds want him gone. Pilate just can't ignore them; they're his people and he is obligated to heed to them. So, he agrees to kill Jesus. When I really think about it, I can't help but sort of feel bad for Pilate. He was stuck between THE rock and a bunch of blood thisty citizens. He chose the one that was less catastrophic for him, which is common human nature. Save yourself; if this guy is who he says he is, then he can save himself, right? Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that, buddy. Let us continue...
"They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head...They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to be crucified." Matthew 27: 28-31. What Matthew fails to mention is the terrible whipping that they did to Jesus, so much so that he was unrecognizable and that his insides were on the outside. Later, when He was on he cross, people walked by and continued to make fun of him, like mean kids on the playground. He was crucified between two criminals, which is further shame. Okay, confession time for me. If these jerks were doing this to me, I would've sprung into action mode, kicking and screaming and yelling and punching those stupid guards right in their already ugly faces. But this is yet another reason why God did not choose me to be his ultimate sacrifice. Can you even imagine what Jesus was feeling and thinking right now? I don't know that I want to know. And He did this willingly, for me. For you. For everyone on this messed up planet. Imagine the most annoying person at school or work. Jesus died for them. Imagine Hitler. Jesus died for him. Imagine the Taliban. Jesus died for them. That thought is so crazy for me that I can't grasp it. But we are told that nothing compares to the love of God and the crucifixion is the prime example of this. On with the story...
"From the sixth hour until the ninth hour, darkness came over the land. About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice 'Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?' which mens 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?'" Matthew 27:45-46. Okay, the ADD part of me was like "He was calling for a South American animal (ei "lama" which made me think of "llama")?" but then I sobered up and was like "Wow, I'm stupid". Anyway. How many of us have ever cried that? (The whole why-have-you-forsaken me, not the llama/lama part). Or something like that? I'm sure we had a good reason, but imagine how pathetic we sound compared to what Jesus was going through. He was NAILED to rough wood, bleeding, suffocating, dying a horrible death and we're freaking out because, what? We got a bad grade on a test? Our life isn't picture perfect? Newsflash: our lives will never be perfect. Yes, God wants us to cry out to him. I have used that priviledge so many times it's ridiculous. I've laid on my bed, crying my eyes out because I'm stressed about something. Jesus had the weight of the world on his shoulders and I have the weight of geometry. But Jesus had so many motives for going up on that cross. Yeah, to save us all was definitely one of them. But also, I think, to show that it was okay to cry out to God; that He'll listen, no matter how stupid our problems may seem. Okay, here comes one of my favorite parts of the story. Here goes...
"And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment, the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life...When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified and exclaimed 'Surely he was the Son of God!'" Matthew 27:50-54. I LOVE that part of the story. So, here's my interpretation of the guards. They see this massive curtain rip in half, completely and totally. An earthquake shakes everyone and rocks literally split. Holy people lived again, almost as a foreshadowing for Jesus. And they freaked out. Like, "oh, crap, we just killed the Son of the living God". I mean, how do you respond to that? "Whoops!"? Yeah. I kind of wish I could go back and smack them all on the forehead and go "Duh, you idiots! He wasn't lying!". The guards' reactions still crack me up, which I find ironic, seeing as Jesus just, you know, DIED. What, were the other miracles not enough for ya, buddy? But I think I know why I ridicule the guards so much. Because I might have been feeling the same way. I don't know if I would've believed Jesus right off the bat. I'd like to say I would, but I'm not so sure. Though it's funny to say ''Wow, those guards were stupid", it's kind of a wake up call. Like, wake up, buttercup! Would you have believed Jesus? Maybe, maybe not. That's up for you to decide.
Jesus died. For us. Because we needed it. And, to put it bluntly, if Jesus didn't go through all this stuff, we'd be going to hell. But God was not going to let His people be punished without having a chance to try to be redeemed. Christ was the redemption.
"'What should I do, then, with Jesus who is called Christ?' Pilate asked. They answered, 'Crucify him!' 'Why? What crime has he committed?' But they shouted all the louder 'Crucify him!'." This, from Matthew 27:22-23, obviously, is when Pilate and Jesus are before the masses. The masses heard about Jesus and all he promised. His promises to them (and us) were like promising me a giant Reeses cup, one that never ended and was always tasty, and then me going, "NO! GO DIE!!". Pilate, poor dude, doesn't know what the heck to do with Jesus: a reaction Jesus probably got quite a bit. The teachers of the law and the religious leaders had bewitched them [the massive crowd in Jerusalem] into thinking that Jesus was just an impostor. So, as we all know, when Jesus is put onto the stand, the crowds want him gone. Pilate just can't ignore them; they're his people and he is obligated to heed to them. So, he agrees to kill Jesus. When I really think about it, I can't help but sort of feel bad for Pilate. He was stuck between THE rock and a bunch of blood thisty citizens. He chose the one that was less catastrophic for him, which is common human nature. Save yourself; if this guy is who he says he is, then he can save himself, right? Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that, buddy. Let us continue...
"They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head...They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to be crucified." Matthew 27: 28-31. What Matthew fails to mention is the terrible whipping that they did to Jesus, so much so that he was unrecognizable and that his insides were on the outside. Later, when He was on he cross, people walked by and continued to make fun of him, like mean kids on the playground. He was crucified between two criminals, which is further shame. Okay, confession time for me. If these jerks were doing this to me, I would've sprung into action mode, kicking and screaming and yelling and punching those stupid guards right in their already ugly faces. But this is yet another reason why God did not choose me to be his ultimate sacrifice. Can you even imagine what Jesus was feeling and thinking right now? I don't know that I want to know. And He did this willingly, for me. For you. For everyone on this messed up planet. Imagine the most annoying person at school or work. Jesus died for them. Imagine Hitler. Jesus died for him. Imagine the Taliban. Jesus died for them. That thought is so crazy for me that I can't grasp it. But we are told that nothing compares to the love of God and the crucifixion is the prime example of this. On with the story...
"From the sixth hour until the ninth hour, darkness came over the land. About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice 'Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?' which mens 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?'" Matthew 27:45-46. Okay, the ADD part of me was like "He was calling for a South American animal (ei "lama" which made me think of "llama")?" but then I sobered up and was like "Wow, I'm stupid". Anyway. How many of us have ever cried that? (The whole why-have-you-forsaken me, not the llama/lama part). Or something like that? I'm sure we had a good reason, but imagine how pathetic we sound compared to what Jesus was going through. He was NAILED to rough wood, bleeding, suffocating, dying a horrible death and we're freaking out because, what? We got a bad grade on a test? Our life isn't picture perfect? Newsflash: our lives will never be perfect. Yes, God wants us to cry out to him. I have used that priviledge so many times it's ridiculous. I've laid on my bed, crying my eyes out because I'm stressed about something. Jesus had the weight of the world on his shoulders and I have the weight of geometry. But Jesus had so many motives for going up on that cross. Yeah, to save us all was definitely one of them. But also, I think, to show that it was okay to cry out to God; that He'll listen, no matter how stupid our problems may seem. Okay, here comes one of my favorite parts of the story. Here goes...
"And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment, the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life...When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified and exclaimed 'Surely he was the Son of God!'" Matthew 27:50-54. I LOVE that part of the story. So, here's my interpretation of the guards. They see this massive curtain rip in half, completely and totally. An earthquake shakes everyone and rocks literally split. Holy people lived again, almost as a foreshadowing for Jesus. And they freaked out. Like, "oh, crap, we just killed the Son of the living God". I mean, how do you respond to that? "Whoops!"? Yeah. I kind of wish I could go back and smack them all on the forehead and go "Duh, you idiots! He wasn't lying!". The guards' reactions still crack me up, which I find ironic, seeing as Jesus just, you know, DIED. What, were the other miracles not enough for ya, buddy? But I think I know why I ridicule the guards so much. Because I might have been feeling the same way. I don't know if I would've believed Jesus right off the bat. I'd like to say I would, but I'm not so sure. Though it's funny to say ''Wow, those guards were stupid", it's kind of a wake up call. Like, wake up, buttercup! Would you have believed Jesus? Maybe, maybe not. That's up for you to decide.
Jesus died. For us. Because we needed it. And, to put it bluntly, if Jesus didn't go through all this stuff, we'd be going to hell. But God was not going to let His people be punished without having a chance to try to be redeemed. Christ was the redemption.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Uncoordinated person on a tightrope.
I've been really negative lately. And I apologize. Right now in my life, a whole lot of good is happening but so is a whole lot of bad. Everything is kind of rolling into one big, confusing snowball that's coming down the hill. It's not a question of if it will hit me, because it will. The question is what side it will hit me on: the good or the bad.
So here's a list.
Goodness.
1. I graduate in 33 days.
2. Parachute just released a new song that I'm obsessed with. "Kiss Me Slowly". Check it out.
3. Friend angst is over.
4. I have friends who will tell me what I'm doing is stupid and stop me.
5. I have a new car that has tan interior (very important when you're senior parking spot faces west).
6. School is starting to close up shop. Slowly but surely.
7. I'm not taking any AP tests and it feels fantastic.
8. I've become friends with people I wouldn't expect myself to be friends with.
9. The Rangers are rocking it. Generally.
10. Almost all of my college friends are coming home this weekend.
11. "African Cats" is coming out on Friday. Thank you, Disney.
12. A&M is so close.
13. I can almost taste summer.
14. The forecast shows 6 days of rain. This thrills me. I love rain.
15. Crime and Punishment is almost done.
16. I'm almost done applying to scholarships.
17. I get to go to the Matt Wertz/Ben Rector concert on Saturday with two of my favorite people.
18. The local A&M club offered me an interview for a scholarship.
19. My students at the middle school I teach at are more hilarious by the day.
Badness.
1. Rangers lost miserably to the Angels last night. I'm just pretending it didn't happen.
2. My teachers are just barely beginning to recognize that I checked out 5 months ago.
3. No books are coming out soon.
4. I don't have time for any books.
5. I have to write a monster essay for my English class about Crime and Punishment.
6. I probably won't be exempt from my math final. I'd have to make a 97 this six weeks. Not gonna happen.
7. Suddenly, I have a small army of zits on my forehead.
8. I had a fight with a friend.
9. Parachute's album isn't coming out until May. Angst.
10. School is attempting to take over my life.
11. AP English is stressing me out. So are scholarships.
12. I haven't been able to write much.
13. The whole "friends-wanting-to-come-to-my-piano-recital" deal hasn't been resolved yet. I still say that they aren't coming. They still say that they are.
14. I'm so exhausted.
Anyway, those are all the things I'm dealing with right now. In no particular order, really.
"Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn form Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." Matthew 11:28-29.
"Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you." Psalm 55:22
"Love is here/Love is now/Love is pouring from His hands/From His brow/Love is near/It satisfies/Streams of mercy flowing from His side/Cause love is here." --"Love is Here" by: Tenth Avenue North.
So here's a list.
Goodness.
1. I graduate in 33 days.
2. Parachute just released a new song that I'm obsessed with. "Kiss Me Slowly". Check it out.
3. Friend angst is over.
4. I have friends who will tell me what I'm doing is stupid and stop me.
5. I have a new car that has tan interior (very important when you're senior parking spot faces west).
6. School is starting to close up shop. Slowly but surely.
7. I'm not taking any AP tests and it feels fantastic.
8. I've become friends with people I wouldn't expect myself to be friends with.
9. The Rangers are rocking it. Generally.
10. Almost all of my college friends are coming home this weekend.
11. "African Cats" is coming out on Friday. Thank you, Disney.
12. A&M is so close.
13. I can almost taste summer.
14. The forecast shows 6 days of rain. This thrills me. I love rain.
15. Crime and Punishment is almost done.
16. I'm almost done applying to scholarships.
17. I get to go to the Matt Wertz/Ben Rector concert on Saturday with two of my favorite people.
18. The local A&M club offered me an interview for a scholarship.
19. My students at the middle school I teach at are more hilarious by the day.
Badness.
1. Rangers lost miserably to the Angels last night. I'm just pretending it didn't happen.
2. My teachers are just barely beginning to recognize that I checked out 5 months ago.
3. No books are coming out soon.
4. I don't have time for any books.
5. I have to write a monster essay for my English class about Crime and Punishment.
6. I probably won't be exempt from my math final. I'd have to make a 97 this six weeks. Not gonna happen.
7. Suddenly, I have a small army of zits on my forehead.
8. I had a fight with a friend.
9. Parachute's album isn't coming out until May. Angst.
10. School is attempting to take over my life.
11. AP English is stressing me out. So are scholarships.
12. I haven't been able to write much.
13. The whole "friends-wanting-to-come-to-my-piano-recital" deal hasn't been resolved yet. I still say that they aren't coming. They still say that they are.
14. I'm so exhausted.
Anyway, those are all the things I'm dealing with right now. In no particular order, really.
"Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn form Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." Matthew 11:28-29.
"Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you." Psalm 55:22
"Love is here/Love is now/Love is pouring from His hands/From His brow/Love is near/It satisfies/Streams of mercy flowing from His side/Cause love is here." --"Love is Here" by: Tenth Avenue North.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Car surprises...both pleasant and unpleasant
My dad bought a 2004 red Nissan Maxima in the tail end of 2004. It was destined to be my car.
And so it was. I learned to drive in Max the Maxima. It was a great car with great gas mileage, great handling, and a great stereo system with a 6 CD holder. Easy to find in a parking lot because of it's redness and easy to gun it on the highway, I had an attachment to Max. I mean, how could I not? It was my first car and I will always remember it as such.
But this morning, my dad took to the dealership to get my seat fixed (because it wouldn't move forward or backward) and to change the light in my blinker because it had gone out. What we heard from the Nissan place, though, was that...
1. The frame was broken which cost about $1,800
2. To fix the seat and all that wiring was $1,700
3. Should I want to get my broken sunroof fixed, that would've been another $500.
The car, after 7 years, was now worth about $9,000ish. Did we want to pay slightly under half of that to keep the car? Not really. So we found a red 2008 Altima (which is a bit smaller than the Maxima but still in the same family) for a great deal.
I drove it off the lot after three hours of wandering around the dealership and watching my dad wheel and deal with the salesman. We got everything out of Max that we needed and put it all in my new car. No one was really anticipating us buying a car that day. I certainly wasn't. Neither of my parents were. But now we have a new car. Well, new/used car. New to me.
Not going to lie, I was a little weepy as I drove away with Max in my rearview mirror. In a weird, man-like way, I was attached to my first car in a way that I never knew I was. The person who buys that car used will love it. I will miss my little baby car.
But I am excited to drive my new Altima. His name is Alejandro. And Alejandro and I are looking for a good country station, so if you know of any, let me know.
And so it was. I learned to drive in Max the Maxima. It was a great car with great gas mileage, great handling, and a great stereo system with a 6 CD holder. Easy to find in a parking lot because of it's redness and easy to gun it on the highway, I had an attachment to Max. I mean, how could I not? It was my first car and I will always remember it as such.
But this morning, my dad took to the dealership to get my seat fixed (because it wouldn't move forward or backward) and to change the light in my blinker because it had gone out. What we heard from the Nissan place, though, was that...
1. The frame was broken which cost about $1,800
2. To fix the seat and all that wiring was $1,700
3. Should I want to get my broken sunroof fixed, that would've been another $500.
The car, after 7 years, was now worth about $9,000ish. Did we want to pay slightly under half of that to keep the car? Not really. So we found a red 2008 Altima (which is a bit smaller than the Maxima but still in the same family) for a great deal.
I drove it off the lot after three hours of wandering around the dealership and watching my dad wheel and deal with the salesman. We got everything out of Max that we needed and put it all in my new car. No one was really anticipating us buying a car that day. I certainly wasn't. Neither of my parents were. But now we have a new car. Well, new/used car. New to me.
Not going to lie, I was a little weepy as I drove away with Max in my rearview mirror. In a weird, man-like way, I was attached to my first car in a way that I never knew I was. The person who buys that car used will love it. I will miss my little baby car.
But I am excited to drive my new Altima. His name is Alejandro. And Alejandro and I are looking for a good country station, so if you know of any, let me know.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Too much tumbling around in my noggin right now.
Right. See the title of this post to know what I'll be ranting about. Or just writing about. In detail. In a rant-like fashion. Anyway.
1. Piano recital. Okay, angst. So crafty forms of trickery (and my inability to pay attention to facts during a conversation) has led to the discovery of where the venue for the recital will be. And after many arguments between Ben and me, we have not reached a conclusion. Anticlimactic, I know. But I don't want them there because I know that I'll royally screw up in front of them, thus ruining my senior recital. However, Ben's argument is that he wants to come support a friend and that he genuinely wants to watch me play. Despite my protests. And my desires. And my better judgement. Should I think it's sweet that my friends want to be bored out of their brains to support me or annoyed by the fact that they won't take no for an answer? Color me conflicted.
2. Josh Hamilton. If you've read my bloggy blog before, you know how intensely in love I am with him. He was injured on Thursday because the stupid 3rd base coach told him to run home when it was a terrible idea. Now he's out for 6-8 weeks. When I told my yankee-fan prom date (yeah, I slow danced with a yankees fan. It's as gross as it sounds.) that, he said "Woo-hoo! Hamilton's out :)". I could've cheerfully punched him in the face. That was Tuesday. I have been shunning him since then. Maybe I'm acting like a 12 year old, but I don't really care. You insult my boy, you insult me.
3. Graduation parties. So many parties. So little time.
4. iPhone 4. I was supposed to get it in March. Then I was supposed to get it this week. Now I'm not getting it until June. Sweet.
5. Senioritis. It's killing me. For real. I have no motivation for anything pertaining to high school right now. Or probably ever again.
6. Scholarships. I need 4 letters of recommendation by next Tuesday at the latest. I need to write 3 essays. I need to not procrastinate so much. I need to stop blogging and write an essay.
Okay. I'm done. I feel better now.
1. Piano recital. Okay, angst. So crafty forms of trickery (and my inability to pay attention to facts during a conversation) has led to the discovery of where the venue for the recital will be. And after many arguments between Ben and me, we have not reached a conclusion. Anticlimactic, I know. But I don't want them there because I know that I'll royally screw up in front of them, thus ruining my senior recital. However, Ben's argument is that he wants to come support a friend and that he genuinely wants to watch me play. Despite my protests. And my desires. And my better judgement. Should I think it's sweet that my friends want to be bored out of their brains to support me or annoyed by the fact that they won't take no for an answer? Color me conflicted.
2. Josh Hamilton. If you've read my bloggy blog before, you know how intensely in love I am with him. He was injured on Thursday because the stupid 3rd base coach told him to run home when it was a terrible idea. Now he's out for 6-8 weeks. When I told my yankee-fan prom date (yeah, I slow danced with a yankees fan. It's as gross as it sounds.) that, he said "Woo-hoo! Hamilton's out :)". I could've cheerfully punched him in the face. That was Tuesday. I have been shunning him since then. Maybe I'm acting like a 12 year old, but I don't really care. You insult my boy, you insult me.
3. Graduation parties. So many parties. So little time.
4. iPhone 4. I was supposed to get it in March. Then I was supposed to get it this week. Now I'm not getting it until June. Sweet.
5. Senioritis. It's killing me. For real. I have no motivation for anything pertaining to high school right now. Or probably ever again.
6. Scholarships. I need 4 letters of recommendation by next Tuesday at the latest. I need to write 3 essays. I need to not procrastinate so much. I need to stop blogging and write an essay.
Okay. I'm done. I feel better now.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Piano.
This is my last year for piano ever.
I've been playing and taking lessons since I was in second grade--so just over 10 years now. Many, many times I've wanted to quit. Practicing has never been enjoyable; it's always been a chore. Very rarely do I just sit down and break out in song. To be completely honest, there are really only 3 songs I've ever genuinely enjoyed playing. One of which was a Disney song. Thank you, Aladdin.
My last recital piece is called "River Flows in You" by this Japanese piano aficionado named Yiruma. He's a boss. I had to cut out a whole page because the song is just too much for me to learn in two months. Piano has never been "my thing". That would go to writing. But there's something about being at home by yourself and letting your fingers fly over the keys. "River Flows in You" can make a person do that.
The song is really pretty. I'm excited to play it and hopefully memorize it. That'd be a cool thing to take to college, even if it wouldn't be the whole song. Don't tell my mom, but I think I am going to miss my Baby Grand when I go to A&M--they just have the little church choir pianos where I'm probably living. Bummer.
But the worst part about piano has been the recitals. An hour and a half of kids playing 30 second to five minute songs. It's been fairly awful for everyone involved. This year, however, some of my friends have decided that they want to come. Yeah, not a chance. I'm in the recital and even I get ridiculously bored. I can't even imagine how they would do. Yikes. So, on the off chance that any of y'all are reading this, you are most certainly not coming to the recital.
Let's run a test though, shall we? I'm going to put the vague location of the recital on here and see if they pester me about the place and whatnot.
Northlake.
This will be my little experiment.
I'll keep you posted, readers. And please, do not show up at the recital. Spare those 2 hours of your life for something more productive, like underwater basket weaving.
I've been playing and taking lessons since I was in second grade--so just over 10 years now. Many, many times I've wanted to quit. Practicing has never been enjoyable; it's always been a chore. Very rarely do I just sit down and break out in song. To be completely honest, there are really only 3 songs I've ever genuinely enjoyed playing. One of which was a Disney song. Thank you, Aladdin.
My last recital piece is called "River Flows in You" by this Japanese piano aficionado named Yiruma. He's a boss. I had to cut out a whole page because the song is just too much for me to learn in two months. Piano has never been "my thing". That would go to writing. But there's something about being at home by yourself and letting your fingers fly over the keys. "River Flows in You" can make a person do that.
The song is really pretty. I'm excited to play it and hopefully memorize it. That'd be a cool thing to take to college, even if it wouldn't be the whole song. Don't tell my mom, but I think I am going to miss my Baby Grand when I go to A&M--they just have the little church choir pianos where I'm probably living. Bummer.
But the worst part about piano has been the recitals. An hour and a half of kids playing 30 second to five minute songs. It's been fairly awful for everyone involved. This year, however, some of my friends have decided that they want to come. Yeah, not a chance. I'm in the recital and even I get ridiculously bored. I can't even imagine how they would do. Yikes. So, on the off chance that any of y'all are reading this, you are most certainly not coming to the recital.
Let's run a test though, shall we? I'm going to put the vague location of the recital on here and see if they pester me about the place and whatnot.
Northlake.
This will be my little experiment.
I'll keep you posted, readers. And please, do not show up at the recital. Spare those 2 hours of your life for something more productive, like underwater basket weaving.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
PROM.
Oh man. What an epic night. Here's how it all went down...
I'll fast-forward through the boring stuff (hair, makeup, having my brother zip my dress because my mom couldn't...). Long story short, I found over 20 bobby pins and had fake hair because I don't have enough of my own. My makeup was an adventure, but it looked great when it was all said and done (thanks Mom!). And my dress likes to be temperamental so when my dad wasn't available, Tanner had the pleasure of zipping my dress up for me.
Then we all went to Landon's to meet up and exchange corsages and boutonnieres. My exchange with Anthony was fairly awkward (we almost forgot his boutonniere at home...yikes) but hilarious because it was so awkward. Then my mom had to pin it on for him because I didn't know how. And my dad said "Now, you're not going to slow dance with Linley are you?" To which Anthony had no clue how to respond. So I jumped in and said that he better dance with me.
After meeting up, we went to take pictures at a local park. Lots and lots of pictures. It was great fun but my heels kept sinking into the sand/dirt/whatever that stuff was. Yes, I tripped. I mean really. I'm in heels on uneven ground and am a generally clumsy person. It happened.
Then it was the adventure to dinner. A limo was super expensive, so we opted for just carpooling, which ended up being a blast and a better idea, seeing as someone left their ID at home...in Flower Mound. As for the restaurant...apparently, in Dallas, there are two restaurants named Perry's within a five minute radius of each other. Whoever the idiot was who planned that ought to be knocked silly. Anyways, after taking several side roads and crossed the highway twice, we ended up at the correct restaurant (thanks to the nice hostess at the first Perry's for directions!) with a room to ourselves. Then about twenty minutes later, the other two couples showed up and dinner was on! We had a blast and the food was delicious (if not very expensive). The bathrooms had built in TVs, so every once in awhile I'd run and check the score of the Rangers game. Call me obsessed.
After dinner, it was PROM TIME! After getting slightly lost from the restaurant to the dance (thanks for driving, Ben!!), we made it to the Dallas Trade Market. I saw my English teacher as I walked in, which was fairly awkward, and checked in. We then claimed a table, the girls took their shoes off, and hit the dance floor for the next 2 1/2 hours. Poor Ben was on crutches, but he entertained everyone by using them as guitars and microphones and the like. And his date, Lizzy, (who is pretty much the most awesome person ever) was really cool about it and it looked like they had a blast. Yes, Anthony and I danced. It was fun and a little awkward (as slow dancing with one of your best friends normally is) but I'm glad we danced. And that my dad didn't scare him too much from the conversation earlier.
At 12:30 superlatives were announced. I failed at succeeding. The fortune was wrong. So maybe some other high award is in my future, but I'm not putting any bets on that. The Korean star won, just like I'd predicted. Gotta love that gut intuition.
We left shortly thereafter. Ben's car was a tad cramped seeing as we had Anthony in the front and then Lizzy, Lizzy's brother, and me all in the back. What an adventure. He dropped Anthony and I off at Landon's (who had left earlier) and he went to go take Lizzy home. After changing and taking the 20+ bobby pins out of my hair, along with the fake hair, we decided that we needed to go to Wal-Mart to get a $5 movie. Ben met us there and we got some janky movie called "Joy Ride". It was a thriller about some trucker who goes nuts when these guys pull a prank on him. I hated every minute of it. After the movie, Ben played the guitar and everyone slowly but surely fell asleep all around the living room.
But here's what we discovered in the morning...
1. Anthony snores. Very loudly. I woke him up this morning by a gentle slap on the face. And, of course, he was right next to me all night.
2. I move around a lot when I sleep. No one notices I move until after I've moved though, apparently.
3. Ben and Anthony told me I talked in my sleep and at first I believed them. Then Ben said that I said "Ben is SO hot" and I stopped believing them. Nice.
4. My hair does not stay curly. When I woke up, it was as straight as it normally was. But I still had a bunch of hairspray in it.
5. Apparently, Anthony flipped out when he saw that his arm was right above my head sometime in the night because he thought if my dad saw that, Anthony was a goner.
6. According to Ben, I'm a sleep diva. He reports that when he got up to go to the bathroom, I spread out and got in both of our spaces. When he nudged me, I curled back up. But really! I have a queen bed that I sleep in every night--how can I not be a sleep diva?
Anyways, we ate breakfast the next morning and then packed up to go. When I got home, I promptly uploaded all pictures to Facebook and crashed for the next 7 hours. A blissful, snoring-less sleep. Thank you very much.
All-in-all, an amazing prom. I'd give it an 8 out of 10. What a great night.
Next stop...GRADUATION.
I'll fast-forward through the boring stuff (hair, makeup, having my brother zip my dress because my mom couldn't...). Long story short, I found over 20 bobby pins and had fake hair because I don't have enough of my own. My makeup was an adventure, but it looked great when it was all said and done (thanks Mom!). And my dress likes to be temperamental so when my dad wasn't available, Tanner had the pleasure of zipping my dress up for me.
Then we all went to Landon's to meet up and exchange corsages and boutonnieres. My exchange with Anthony was fairly awkward (we almost forgot his boutonniere at home...yikes) but hilarious because it was so awkward. Then my mom had to pin it on for him because I didn't know how. And my dad said "Now, you're not going to slow dance with Linley are you?" To which Anthony had no clue how to respond. So I jumped in and said that he better dance with me.
After meeting up, we went to take pictures at a local park. Lots and lots of pictures. It was great fun but my heels kept sinking into the sand/dirt/whatever that stuff was. Yes, I tripped. I mean really. I'm in heels on uneven ground and am a generally clumsy person. It happened.
Then it was the adventure to dinner. A limo was super expensive, so we opted for just carpooling, which ended up being a blast and a better idea, seeing as someone left their ID at home...in Flower Mound. As for the restaurant...apparently, in Dallas, there are two restaurants named Perry's within a five minute radius of each other. Whoever the idiot was who planned that ought to be knocked silly. Anyways, after taking several side roads and crossed the highway twice, we ended up at the correct restaurant (thanks to the nice hostess at the first Perry's for directions!) with a room to ourselves. Then about twenty minutes later, the other two couples showed up and dinner was on! We had a blast and the food was delicious (if not very expensive). The bathrooms had built in TVs, so every once in awhile I'd run and check the score of the Rangers game. Call me obsessed.
After dinner, it was PROM TIME! After getting slightly lost from the restaurant to the dance (thanks for driving, Ben!!), we made it to the Dallas Trade Market. I saw my English teacher as I walked in, which was fairly awkward, and checked in. We then claimed a table, the girls took their shoes off, and hit the dance floor for the next 2 1/2 hours. Poor Ben was on crutches, but he entertained everyone by using them as guitars and microphones and the like. And his date, Lizzy, (who is pretty much the most awesome person ever) was really cool about it and it looked like they had a blast. Yes, Anthony and I danced. It was fun and a little awkward (as slow dancing with one of your best friends normally is) but I'm glad we danced. And that my dad didn't scare him too much from the conversation earlier.
At 12:30 superlatives were announced. I failed at succeeding. The fortune was wrong. So maybe some other high award is in my future, but I'm not putting any bets on that. The Korean star won, just like I'd predicted. Gotta love that gut intuition.
We left shortly thereafter. Ben's car was a tad cramped seeing as we had Anthony in the front and then Lizzy, Lizzy's brother, and me all in the back. What an adventure. He dropped Anthony and I off at Landon's (who had left earlier) and he went to go take Lizzy home. After changing and taking the 20+ bobby pins out of my hair, along with the fake hair, we decided that we needed to go to Wal-Mart to get a $5 movie. Ben met us there and we got some janky movie called "Joy Ride". It was a thriller about some trucker who goes nuts when these guys pull a prank on him. I hated every minute of it. After the movie, Ben played the guitar and everyone slowly but surely fell asleep all around the living room.
But here's what we discovered in the morning...
1. Anthony snores. Very loudly. I woke him up this morning by a gentle slap on the face. And, of course, he was right next to me all night.
2. I move around a lot when I sleep. No one notices I move until after I've moved though, apparently.
3. Ben and Anthony told me I talked in my sleep and at first I believed them. Then Ben said that I said "Ben is SO hot" and I stopped believing them. Nice.
4. My hair does not stay curly. When I woke up, it was as straight as it normally was. But I still had a bunch of hairspray in it.
5. Apparently, Anthony flipped out when he saw that his arm was right above my head sometime in the night because he thought if my dad saw that, Anthony was a goner.
6. According to Ben, I'm a sleep diva. He reports that when he got up to go to the bathroom, I spread out and got in both of our spaces. When he nudged me, I curled back up. But really! I have a queen bed that I sleep in every night--how can I not be a sleep diva?
Anyways, we ate breakfast the next morning and then packed up to go. When I got home, I promptly uploaded all pictures to Facebook and crashed for the next 7 hours. A blissful, snoring-less sleep. Thank you very much.
All-in-all, an amazing prom. I'd give it an 8 out of 10. What a great night.
Next stop...GRADUATION.
Friday, April 8, 2011
T-minus 17 hours (and counting)
Right, so prom is tomorrow.
I REPEAT. PROM IS TOMORROW.
And the good news is that...
1. My nails are all done and look pretty (silver!)
2. I have all my jewelry and everything flows
3. I have a clutch to keep my phone, ID, ticket, camera, money, and lip gloss in. And maybe a few bobby pins.
4. I know the official plans
5. I have a hair appointment and my mom is doing my makeup
6. I know where we're taking pictures
7. I have ordered the boutonniere
8. My dress has been hemmed to perfection
9. After-prom plans have been officially set
So all of this is good! The not-necesssarily-good-but-certainly-not-bad news now:
1. I still don't know everyone in our group.
2. I need fake hair because I don't have enough normal hair.
3. I cut myself shaving. Okay, that's straight up bad news. Youchers.
4. Tomorrow is going to be 91 degrees with humidity and windy. Awesome.
The good definitely outweighs the bad. So that's comforting. Overall, I think it'll be a pretty great night. I'm so excited.
Last thing...
Today I went to Panda Express and they gave us fortune cookies. Now, I am not superstitious by any means whatsoever. I ignore black cats, I throw spilled salt in the trashcan, and walking under ladders does not bother me, nor does Friday the 13th (my birthday is sometimes on Friday the 13th...no fear!) freak me out.
Now, I've been about 90% sure that this other girl will win the superlative I was nominated for since I saw her on the ballot. She's some Korean superstar and in beauty pageants and really smart. She's got this thing in the bag. But today I get a fortune that says "You will be awarded a great honor". I don't know that winning a class award is "great honor" but I like the sound of it. It gives me hope. But I'm still tentatively half on the rug--I do not want to fall on my face if it's pulled out from under me.
Part of me thinks that this is God's "don't doubt yourself!" encouraging piece of love He's giving me before prom.
Most of me thinks that it's an insignificant coincidence.
So we'll see.
Again, I'll keep you posted.
I REPEAT. PROM IS TOMORROW.
And the good news is that...
1. My nails are all done and look pretty (silver!)
2. I have all my jewelry and everything flows
3. I have a clutch to keep my phone, ID, ticket, camera, money, and lip gloss in. And maybe a few bobby pins.
4. I know the official plans
5. I have a hair appointment and my mom is doing my makeup
6. I know where we're taking pictures
7. I have ordered the boutonniere
8. My dress has been hemmed to perfection
9. After-prom plans have been officially set
So all of this is good! The not-necesssarily-good-but-certainly-not-bad news now:
1. I still don't know everyone in our group.
2. I need fake hair because I don't have enough normal hair.
3. I cut myself shaving. Okay, that's straight up bad news. Youchers.
4. Tomorrow is going to be 91 degrees with humidity and windy. Awesome.
The good definitely outweighs the bad. So that's comforting. Overall, I think it'll be a pretty great night. I'm so excited.
Last thing...
Today I went to Panda Express and they gave us fortune cookies. Now, I am not superstitious by any means whatsoever. I ignore black cats, I throw spilled salt in the trashcan, and walking under ladders does not bother me, nor does Friday the 13th (my birthday is sometimes on Friday the 13th...no fear!) freak me out.
Now, I've been about 90% sure that this other girl will win the superlative I was nominated for since I saw her on the ballot. She's some Korean superstar and in beauty pageants and really smart. She's got this thing in the bag. But today I get a fortune that says "You will be awarded a great honor". I don't know that winning a class award is "great honor" but I like the sound of it. It gives me hope. But I'm still tentatively half on the rug--I do not want to fall on my face if it's pulled out from under me.
Part of me thinks that this is God's "don't doubt yourself!" encouraging piece of love He's giving me before prom.
Most of me thinks that it's an insignificant coincidence.
So we'll see.
Again, I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Oh, hey God.
So I'm a middle school leader at my church. Every Wednesday night, I show up at around 5:45 to eat dinner and greet middle school students as they come in for our Wednesday night activities, called 180. I love it. It's a blast. And those kids aren't the only ones who learn something from coming to middle school 180--I get stuff out of the talks by Jason and Chris (hey guys) too.
Alright, so last night Jason read and talked about Philippians 1:1-12. That passage is basically Paul telling the church at Phillipi that he misses them and is constantly praying for and loving them. He is ridiculously joyful in this passage--Paul had some serious Jesus juice in him.
After reading the passage, Jason told us to close our eyes and think of one person who wasn't our best friend or in our family to really love and pray for. I chose a girl who I lead in Bible study and sort of disciple. I guess that's what I call it. Her name is Joy. In fact, she'll probably read this post. So, hey kid. Love you.
Anyway, I prayed for Joy. I thanked the Lord for her beauty and her laughter and her love. I prayed that she would be mindful of others at all times. I said that I loved her about a million times. She's hard to read, but I think that's why I love talking to her. You never know what you're going to get from Joy and that's exactly how it's supposed to be. God makes no mistakes.
Fast forward to today. I'm watching American Idol and talking to my parents about graduation stuff (a whole different ball game) when my phone vibrates. And lo and behold, it's Joy. Here's the conversation:
Joy: Hey! I just thought I would tell u that I read ur blog! I got up at 3 this morning because I was sick. I thought of things to do and remembered u had a blog! I am just texting u to say it was great! I loved reading it! You are a great writer and I hope to read more soon! Luv ya! <3
Of all the chaos that's been going on in my life (hello AP English), this was kind of an unspoken prayer answered. I didn't know I needed this, but I did. As usual, God knew exactly what I needed and how it should come. This was absolutely of "Yes, Joy was the right person to pray for" confirmation.
Crazy. CRAZY. God works in mysterious and powerful ways. He knows what is best for us when we don't. He knows we need water when we don't know we're thirsty. He knows we need love when we don't feel lonely. He's got it down.
My spiritual life has been put on the back-burner for the past month. Life suddenly felt like I'd been thrown in a washing machine set to "high power wash". Things just got crazy. Things are still crazy. Things won't stop being crazy until I graduate...in 41 days (and counting).
What do I have to say to that? Bring it. Bring it, senior year. Because though I can't handle it, I have a God who can. And He's constantly putting people in my life who will remind me of Him.
BRING IT ON.
"You are good, you are good
When there's nothing good in me
You are love, you are love
On display for all to see
You are light, you are light
When the darkness closes in
You are hope, you are hope
You have covered all my sin
You are peace you are peace
When my fear is crippling
You are true you are true
Even in my wandering
You are joy you are joy
You're the reason that I sing
You are life you are life
Even death has lost it's sting."
--Forever Reign
Alright, so last night Jason read and talked about Philippians 1:1-12. That passage is basically Paul telling the church at Phillipi that he misses them and is constantly praying for and loving them. He is ridiculously joyful in this passage--Paul had some serious Jesus juice in him.
After reading the passage, Jason told us to close our eyes and think of one person who wasn't our best friend or in our family to really love and pray for. I chose a girl who I lead in Bible study and sort of disciple. I guess that's what I call it. Her name is Joy. In fact, she'll probably read this post. So, hey kid. Love you.
Anyway, I prayed for Joy. I thanked the Lord for her beauty and her laughter and her love. I prayed that she would be mindful of others at all times. I said that I loved her about a million times. She's hard to read, but I think that's why I love talking to her. You never know what you're going to get from Joy and that's exactly how it's supposed to be. God makes no mistakes.
Fast forward to today. I'm watching American Idol and talking to my parents about graduation stuff (a whole different ball game) when my phone vibrates. And lo and behold, it's Joy. Here's the conversation:
Joy: Hey! I just thought I would tell u that I read ur blog! I got up at 3 this morning because I was sick. I thought of things to do and remembered u had a blog! I am just texting u to say it was great! I loved reading it! You are a great writer and I hope to read more soon! Luv ya! <3
Of all the chaos that's been going on in my life (hello AP English), this was kind of an unspoken prayer answered. I didn't know I needed this, but I did. As usual, God knew exactly what I needed and how it should come. This was absolutely of "Yes, Joy was the right person to pray for" confirmation.
Crazy. CRAZY. God works in mysterious and powerful ways. He knows what is best for us when we don't. He knows we need water when we don't know we're thirsty. He knows we need love when we don't feel lonely. He's got it down.
My spiritual life has been put on the back-burner for the past month. Life suddenly felt like I'd been thrown in a washing machine set to "high power wash". Things just got crazy. Things are still crazy. Things won't stop being crazy until I graduate...in 41 days (and counting).
What do I have to say to that? Bring it. Bring it, senior year. Because though I can't handle it, I have a God who can. And He's constantly putting people in my life who will remind me of Him.
BRING IT ON.
"You are good, you are good
When there's nothing good in me
You are love, you are love
On display for all to see
You are light, you are light
When the darkness closes in
You are hope, you are hope
You have covered all my sin
You are peace you are peace
When my fear is crippling
You are true you are true
Even in my wandering
You are joy you are joy
You're the reason that I sing
You are life you are life
Even death has lost it's sting."
--Forever Reign
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Time
I don't seem to have enough of it lately. Maybe because my time management skills are a zero on a scale of 1 to 10. I'm so low that I'm not even on the chart. Maybe because prom has snuck up on me even though I've been thinking about it since August. Maybe because I don't feel quite ready to be in college and am trying to take advantage of all the fun (though limited) things I can do at home.
Or maybe just because I'm an amazing procrastinator.
Yeah, I'm going to go with the latter on that one.
You see, I've known about how I need to read John Steinbeck's East of Eden since January. I've known that it is due tomorrow and that I have to write an essay over it. I have also known that it's 604 pages long. When did I start reading it? On Sunday.
For a book that I sort of liked but wouldn't have read it if I didn't have to, I've read about 150-200 pages a day since Sunday. Of course, I can finish a 400 pager in about a day if I have the time and desire and if I actually enjoy the book.
But I didn't have the desire. Nor, really, did I have the time. Seeing as I have to read just under 500 pages of Crime and Punishment by next Friday. Did I mention that I have prom on Saturday?
Needless to say, I've watched a maximum of 2 hours of TV this week and have crashed every night at around one in the morning. It's an unfortunate fact that this semester has been harder than the last semester. Which is so backwards I can't even stand it.
Moral of the story: I either need to manage my time better or not have crazy English teachers who assign us a ton of reading when the class of 2011 has officially checked out for good. With prom, senior skip day, senior parties, and graduation lurking just around the corner, it's amazing we can even stay in our seats for longer than ten minutes.
Time, right now, is working against me.
But the promise of only 42 more days of high school pushes me forward.
Get me out of here. Please?
Or maybe just because I'm an amazing procrastinator.
Yeah, I'm going to go with the latter on that one.
You see, I've known about how I need to read John Steinbeck's East of Eden since January. I've known that it is due tomorrow and that I have to write an essay over it. I have also known that it's 604 pages long. When did I start reading it? On Sunday.
For a book that I sort of liked but wouldn't have read it if I didn't have to, I've read about 150-200 pages a day since Sunday. Of course, I can finish a 400 pager in about a day if I have the time and desire and if I actually enjoy the book.
But I didn't have the desire. Nor, really, did I have the time. Seeing as I have to read just under 500 pages of Crime and Punishment by next Friday. Did I mention that I have prom on Saturday?
Needless to say, I've watched a maximum of 2 hours of TV this week and have crashed every night at around one in the morning. It's an unfortunate fact that this semester has been harder than the last semester. Which is so backwards I can't even stand it.
Moral of the story: I either need to manage my time better or not have crazy English teachers who assign us a ton of reading when the class of 2011 has officially checked out for good. With prom, senior skip day, senior parties, and graduation lurking just around the corner, it's amazing we can even stay in our seats for longer than ten minutes.
Time, right now, is working against me.
But the promise of only 42 more days of high school pushes me forward.
Get me out of here. Please?
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Gah.
I have to get to at least page 200 tonight in East of Eden.
I have to take notes over a reading about Congress because I have to make up a quiz that I missed on Friday.
I have to clean up my room.
I have a sunburn because I sat out and read for an hour and didn't put on sunscreen.
I have skin irritations because of my sunburn.
I have an overflow of things to write about in my book that I'm working on and no time to write
I have prom in 6 days.
I have no time for anything but I pretend like I do.
I have mastered the skill of procrastinating and paying the price for it.
I have become an intense Facebook creeper.
I have to get rid of some of those embarrassing pictures of myself on my photobooth app.
I have too many insignificant problems that are cropping up.
I have a mom who thankfully takes care of all my stuff as pertaining to senior parties and whatnot.
I have become addicted to Taylor Swift even though she hasn't been very helpful lately.
I have almost kicked the biting-my-nails habit.
I HAVE TO GO ACTUALLY DO WORK NOW. SO BYE.
I have to take notes over a reading about Congress because I have to make up a quiz that I missed on Friday.
I have to clean up my room.
I have a sunburn because I sat out and read for an hour and didn't put on sunscreen.
I have skin irritations because of my sunburn.
I have an overflow of things to write about in my book that I'm working on and no time to write
I have prom in 6 days.
I have no time for anything but I pretend like I do.
I have mastered the skill of procrastinating and paying the price for it.
I have become an intense Facebook creeper.
I have to get rid of some of those embarrassing pictures of myself on my photobooth app.
I have too many insignificant problems that are cropping up.
I have a mom who thankfully takes care of all my stuff as pertaining to senior parties and whatnot.
I have become addicted to Taylor Swift even though she hasn't been very helpful lately.
I have almost kicked the biting-my-nails habit.
I HAVE TO GO ACTUALLY DO WORK NOW. SO BYE.
Friday, April 1, 2011
EPIPHANY.
Ah-ha! I've figured it out! Everyone snap for me. I've done it.
I have officially figured out my absolute worst fear.
That's something to be proud of, right? Oh wait...no.
Today during Shattered Dreams, it really hit me what my worst fear was (no, it's not snakes or the dark or bugs). My worst fear is loss. Not death. Loss. There's a difference.
As a follower and believer of Jesus Christ, I have no reason to fear death. 1st Corinthians 15:55 asks "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" Because I have complete faith in my Lord and Savior, I should not be afraid to go to a place of total perfection. That's not to say that I want to die right this very minute, but I won't be scared of it.
Loss, however, is a different matter. They're closely related ("Sorry for your loss") but not the same. And I"m not talking the "Agh! I lost my phone!" kind of loss either. I'm talking the loss of a friend or family member--some to things worse than death, like betrayal or poor decisions. Something that rips you and that other person apart is what is so scary to me.
Or, even beyond that. A loss of security, a loss of familiarity, a loss of love. Frankly, any of those are worse than death.
Today, my high school experienced fictitious loss. But with the graphic display of this loss via death, I lost my trust with others. Now, I'm concerned about people that I know drink and what decisions they'll make. Did they see their friends acting dead today? Did they see the white sheets go over their heads? Did they see the hearses? Did they feel the heartache?
I also lost my sense of security on the road...at night. What if I'm a victim? What if I end up in the wrong place at the wrong time?
What if my parents get that phone call?
That's all I could think about tonight on my way home.
And it really freaks me out. A lot.
"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain for the old order of things has passed away. He who is seated on the throne said, 'I am making everything new!'" Revelation 21:4-5
I have officially figured out my absolute worst fear.
That's something to be proud of, right? Oh wait...no.
Today during Shattered Dreams, it really hit me what my worst fear was (no, it's not snakes or the dark or bugs). My worst fear is loss. Not death. Loss. There's a difference.
As a follower and believer of Jesus Christ, I have no reason to fear death. 1st Corinthians 15:55 asks "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" Because I have complete faith in my Lord and Savior, I should not be afraid to go to a place of total perfection. That's not to say that I want to die right this very minute, but I won't be scared of it.
Loss, however, is a different matter. They're closely related ("Sorry for your loss") but not the same. And I"m not talking the "Agh! I lost my phone!" kind of loss either. I'm talking the loss of a friend or family member--some to things worse than death, like betrayal or poor decisions. Something that rips you and that other person apart is what is so scary to me.
Or, even beyond that. A loss of security, a loss of familiarity, a loss of love. Frankly, any of those are worse than death.
Today, my high school experienced fictitious loss. But with the graphic display of this loss via death, I lost my trust with others. Now, I'm concerned about people that I know drink and what decisions they'll make. Did they see their friends acting dead today? Did they see the white sheets go over their heads? Did they see the hearses? Did they feel the heartache?
I also lost my sense of security on the road...at night. What if I'm a victim? What if I end up in the wrong place at the wrong time?
What if my parents get that phone call?
That's all I could think about tonight on my way home.
And it really freaks me out. A lot.
"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain for the old order of things has passed away. He who is seated on the throne said, 'I am making everything new!'" Revelation 21:4-5
How many drinks can you have till you're shattered?
Yes, that's probably copyright infringement on O.A.R.'s song "Shattered" but I felt it was appropriate for the day. No, this is absolutely not an April Fool's joke. I'm kind of pouring my heart out a little bit on this one, so please put on your serious pants and tone down the nuttiness for a minute.
Allow me to explain.
Every other year, my high school puts on this...scenario. It's a drinking and driving accident that has fatalities and injuries and emotional trauma. It's called "Shattered Dreams". Of course, it isn't "real" in the sense that people actually die or actually drive drunk. We don't want to get too accurate. But it felt so...realistic. Frighteningly realistic. So much so that I felt myself almost near tears.
It started out at around 9:45 in the morning where we were ushered into the big gym and shown a video put on by our broadcasting program. It began with just views around the hallway, of students milling about. Then it zoned in on the lacrosse team and how they had a big game that night. And, after the game, they were going to go to a friend's house for a party. The beer was overflowing. It was probably about 5-7 minutes of showing the party. Then it showed the groups leaving--all drunk--at different times. A group of four girls went to someone's house to talk. Another group of guys in a white SUV (four, plus one of their brothers and a friend of his) left to go to Whataburger. Then there was a crew of intensely drunk guys. There were four of them as well. They were in a black SUV.
You knew that the paths were going to cross again and that it was not going to be pretty. It was the suspense that was killing me. So in the last few seconds of the video, one of the girls, who had a boyfriend in the not-so-drunk Whataburger white car, got a phone call from the boyfriend. After small talk, the line just went dead. The screen went blank and you could hear the loud collision of cars. Then it ended.
Two policemen on motorcycles came in, sirens blaring, to the gym. A Grim Reaper (don't laugh) came in and just spun in a slow circle around the gym floor. Then he walked out with the motorcycle cops close behind.
Then we went outside to the parking lot and saw the crime scene.
At first, I was just thinking "Oh, this isn't going to be that bad. No big deal." I was so wrong. When my eyes cued in on the star lacrosse player laying face up and his arm flopped to the side, the guy who has a scholarship to Brown to play lacrosse, my stomach rolled. I don't know any of those guys in the accident really well, so it didn't hurt me as much as it could. But I was still very affected. Then I saw that there were two guys still in the white car, which was laying on it's side. One of the guys in the car I'd known since we were five years old. There were a few guys staggering out of the black car, cut up and woozy. One guy who had been in the white car had blood coming from his nose and on his shirt was just sitting with his head in his hands. There were three guys (including aforementioned lacrosse star) laying on the ground. One sat up wearily and lived.
Then the four girls came, screaming things like "Oh my God" and "What happened?". They were extremely convincing, running around the cars and checking to see who was there. That was when they began to acknowledge that the star was probably dead. One called the police. Another screamed her boyfriend's name--to which he didn't answer. He was still in the car, completely trapped. The other guys who were able to walk around were mostly just sitting or checking on their friends, begging them to answer, to wake up, to move. Something. Anything.
The sirens screamed, coming closer and flying into the parking lot.
After that, it was kind of a blur. Immediately, it was decided that the lacrosse star was dead. A white sheet was put over him and that sent the girls into crying...probably crying that was real. That was when my stomach tightened and started to hurt. The fact that I'd had a class with him last year and now he was laying in the parking lot with a white death sheet over him unnerved the heck out of me, even though I knew it was all an act. Then the EMTs and cops began to work on the guy with blood all over his face and put a brace on him. The younger brother was pronounced dead. The other guys were checked on for injuries and the girls kept crying.
The focus shifted to the guys in the car. The girl was screaming for her boyfriend as the top of the car was cut off. The boy I had known for the past fourteen years was put onto a gurney and I'm pretty sure he was the one who was Care Flighted. I might be wrong though. But then the last guy was being pulled out and he was announced dead. His girlfriend kept screaming his name through tears, saying that "He can't be dead" over and over. It was hard to hear and I didn't watch for the most part. She had sunk to her knees when he was pulled out.
At the end of it, there were five guys being tended to for minor injuries, three with sheets covering them, and two who had been taken by ambulance. The driver of the black car was arrested. Then the hearses came and put the dead onto gurneys and covered by that thick, dark blanket. The crying and screaming from the girls escalated until the boys were in the hearses and drove away. Then the girls drove off and we were dismissed to fourth period.
I can't lie--it was very intense for me. I didn't expect it to impact me so much, but I didn't have an appetite for the rest of the day, I was shaky (more so than usual), and I really didn't expect to think about it as much as I did. I was just very weirded out by thinking that people from my school had been killed.
Throughout the day, more people "died" because every 15 minutes, a teenager dies from an alcohol-related car wreck. My friends Taylor and Sarah died and I really felt those. Another friend almost cried while she was getting her white makeup on to show that she'd died.
It was surreal all day.
I know that no one actually died. I'm not that dumb or deft. But I'm an empathetic person. When those girls were crying, I felt like crying. That's just who I am. I've never felt the desire or need to drink and I don't know if I ever want to drink, even when I'm legally allowed to. But I'm hoping that this will make someone think twice about it.
And as one of the lines from the day said: the worst part about drinking and driving is the mourning after.
Allow me to explain.
Every other year, my high school puts on this...scenario. It's a drinking and driving accident that has fatalities and injuries and emotional trauma. It's called "Shattered Dreams". Of course, it isn't "real" in the sense that people actually die or actually drive drunk. We don't want to get too accurate. But it felt so...realistic. Frighteningly realistic. So much so that I felt myself almost near tears.
It started out at around 9:45 in the morning where we were ushered into the big gym and shown a video put on by our broadcasting program. It began with just views around the hallway, of students milling about. Then it zoned in on the lacrosse team and how they had a big game that night. And, after the game, they were going to go to a friend's house for a party. The beer was overflowing. It was probably about 5-7 minutes of showing the party. Then it showed the groups leaving--all drunk--at different times. A group of four girls went to someone's house to talk. Another group of guys in a white SUV (four, plus one of their brothers and a friend of his) left to go to Whataburger. Then there was a crew of intensely drunk guys. There were four of them as well. They were in a black SUV.
You knew that the paths were going to cross again and that it was not going to be pretty. It was the suspense that was killing me. So in the last few seconds of the video, one of the girls, who had a boyfriend in the not-so-drunk Whataburger white car, got a phone call from the boyfriend. After small talk, the line just went dead. The screen went blank and you could hear the loud collision of cars. Then it ended.
Two policemen on motorcycles came in, sirens blaring, to the gym. A Grim Reaper (don't laugh) came in and just spun in a slow circle around the gym floor. Then he walked out with the motorcycle cops close behind.
Then we went outside to the parking lot and saw the crime scene.
At first, I was just thinking "Oh, this isn't going to be that bad. No big deal." I was so wrong. When my eyes cued in on the star lacrosse player laying face up and his arm flopped to the side, the guy who has a scholarship to Brown to play lacrosse, my stomach rolled. I don't know any of those guys in the accident really well, so it didn't hurt me as much as it could. But I was still very affected. Then I saw that there were two guys still in the white car, which was laying on it's side. One of the guys in the car I'd known since we were five years old. There were a few guys staggering out of the black car, cut up and woozy. One guy who had been in the white car had blood coming from his nose and on his shirt was just sitting with his head in his hands. There were three guys (including aforementioned lacrosse star) laying on the ground. One sat up wearily and lived.
Then the four girls came, screaming things like "Oh my God" and "What happened?". They were extremely convincing, running around the cars and checking to see who was there. That was when they began to acknowledge that the star was probably dead. One called the police. Another screamed her boyfriend's name--to which he didn't answer. He was still in the car, completely trapped. The other guys who were able to walk around were mostly just sitting or checking on their friends, begging them to answer, to wake up, to move. Something. Anything.
The sirens screamed, coming closer and flying into the parking lot.
After that, it was kind of a blur. Immediately, it was decided that the lacrosse star was dead. A white sheet was put over him and that sent the girls into crying...probably crying that was real. That was when my stomach tightened and started to hurt. The fact that I'd had a class with him last year and now he was laying in the parking lot with a white death sheet over him unnerved the heck out of me, even though I knew it was all an act. Then the EMTs and cops began to work on the guy with blood all over his face and put a brace on him. The younger brother was pronounced dead. The other guys were checked on for injuries and the girls kept crying.
The focus shifted to the guys in the car. The girl was screaming for her boyfriend as the top of the car was cut off. The boy I had known for the past fourteen years was put onto a gurney and I'm pretty sure he was the one who was Care Flighted. I might be wrong though. But then the last guy was being pulled out and he was announced dead. His girlfriend kept screaming his name through tears, saying that "He can't be dead" over and over. It was hard to hear and I didn't watch for the most part. She had sunk to her knees when he was pulled out.
At the end of it, there were five guys being tended to for minor injuries, three with sheets covering them, and two who had been taken by ambulance. The driver of the black car was arrested. Then the hearses came and put the dead onto gurneys and covered by that thick, dark blanket. The crying and screaming from the girls escalated until the boys were in the hearses and drove away. Then the girls drove off and we were dismissed to fourth period.
I can't lie--it was very intense for me. I didn't expect it to impact me so much, but I didn't have an appetite for the rest of the day, I was shaky (more so than usual), and I really didn't expect to think about it as much as I did. I was just very weirded out by thinking that people from my school had been killed.
Throughout the day, more people "died" because every 15 minutes, a teenager dies from an alcohol-related car wreck. My friends Taylor and Sarah died and I really felt those. Another friend almost cried while she was getting her white makeup on to show that she'd died.
It was surreal all day.
I know that no one actually died. I'm not that dumb or deft. But I'm an empathetic person. When those girls were crying, I felt like crying. That's just who I am. I've never felt the desire or need to drink and I don't know if I ever want to drink, even when I'm legally allowed to. But I'm hoping that this will make someone think twice about it.
And as one of the lines from the day said: the worst part about drinking and driving is the mourning after.
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