Equality Ride

For those of you who do not know what happened on the campus of Lee University last week, a group of activists on a freedom ride stopped by. They said that they were fighting for civil rights. They said that they were following in the tradition of the freedom rides of the 60's and the 70's. They were a group of gay and lesbian students traveling across the United States asking Christian colleges and military schools to remove the homosexual clause from their handouts and rules. If you want to know more about them, they have a pretty well organized website, www.equalityride.com.
I don't have a problem with what they are doing. I don't agree with them. But, I recognize their right to have their own point of view and to broadcast it all they want. However, I do have a problem with their attitude. According to Dr. Conn, when they first approached him, they asked for public forum. It has been my experience with Dr. Conn and the majority of the staff at Lee University that they take a pretty liberal view on most topics. They allow for varying opinions and will grant those varying platforms a soapbox, if they want it. He only asks that they maintain a public discourse, meaning that both sides of the argument are presented. ER did not wish to have a public discourse. They were not willing to discuss their beliefs with others who may not agree with them. So, as a result, Dr. Conn would not allow them any public forum. This is what the students were told from the start. (http://www.leeuniversity.edu/info/news/news-article.asp?newsid=3323)
From my point of view, it was a pretty boring two days. They weren't any public demonstrations. I actually was kind of hoping to talk to a member of ER, but they pretty much ignored me as I walked into chapel. They didn't come into any of my classes. The only real issue was that some close-minded resident of lovely Cleveland spraypainted "fags-mobile" in hot pink paint on the side of their bus. Fabulous.
Well, I thought it went off without a hitch, but today, I read the online journals about their visit to Lee. I found myself getting angrier and angrier. First, they have an article saying that on Wednesday night, Dr. Conn told them they were not allowed any public forum. This surprised them because he had previously said they would be allowed one. No, he didn't. He's been telling us from the beginning that they wouldn't be allowed a public forum. Then, they refer to those of us that do not agree with them as close minded and lacking the Love of Christ. Well, that just flat out pisses me off. I am far from close-minded. I accept their right to practice whatever way of life they choose. I do not agree with it. I'm not grossed out by LGBT's. I admit that I don't understand it, but that's why I was looking forward to ER's arrival. I wanted to hear what they had to say.
As for lacking in the Love of Christ, they are so wrong. Maybe I'm not the best example of Christ's Love, but I know plenty of people on this campus that personify it. I think a reexamination of Christ's Love may be in order. Jesus ate with sinners and publicans, but he did not agree with them. He did not accept them. He commanded that they rise above their sin. That's really what He's asking us all to do. He wants us to shed out dirtiness and become clean, become better, become useable.

Language Purism

This blog will not be about language purism at all. Want to know why? Because I don't know anything about language purism. But, I have a paper due at 7:45 in the morning that is supposed to be about language purism. Actually, it's just a rough draft. Why do I have to write a rough draft? I passed English 110. I already proved that I am capable of writing a paper. Why do I have to turn in a test paper first? I don't know.
I am so over school. Can I just say that? I don't think it's fun. I don't think it's a good experience. I'm done. Emotionally, philosophically, physically, and in every other way, but technically. I am totally spent. I don't think I could learn anything else if I tried. And the truth is, I don't think I'm going to try. I think I may be ready to commit educational suicide. If you know what that means, then my guess is you are in the same boat as me. The rest of you who are saying, "oh my God, what is she talking about? Should we be concerned? Should we call her parents? Is there a doctor in the house?" Do not call a doctor, and for God's sake, do not call my mom. Someday you will be in the same boat. Trust me.
One last thing, does anyone know where I could buy a paper? Seriously, I've lost all moral fiber when it comes to my education. Fortunately, I'm broke.

Doctor, I think she has an acute case of senioritis.

I have never in my life not wanted to be somewhere so bad. I hate Cleveland. I hate Lee. I hate going to class. I hate going to Walmart. I hate Bradly Square Mall. I hate not having a real job. I hate homework. I hate writing papers. I hate spring break.
All week, I have been attempting to "catch up." I have a ton of homework. I did get a considerable amount done, but not all of it. And, then Emily told me that our linguistics rough draft is due on Thursday. Holy suck. I actually find linguistics terribly interesting and, in another life, might consider pursuing it on the graduate level. But, to write a paper about something I don't really know anything about yet, is not an appealing proposition. I have so much reading to do, so much writing to do. I also live in constant fear that I might fail spanish.
I am so bored. I am bored, bored, bored. I am bored with school. I don't want to read one more anthropologist who died before my mom was born. I don't want to write one more paper. I don't want to conjugate one more verb. I am done. But, if I am not doing homework, I have nothing else to do. I am broke. And even if I wasn't broke, there isn't anything to do here. Especially this week, since everyone was gone. I don't even have cable.
On top of all that, I'm having this peculiar problem. I can't sleep. I'll be so tired, but then when I go to bed, I can't sleep. It's annoying. I think I'm done complaining. But, I do think I have the worst case of senioritis ever. I may actually be diagnosable. And that's my semi-professional opinion.
I'm spent.

That Elusive Twenty Dollar Bill...

Okay, so a lot of people have been asking me what happened yesterday, so I decided to write a blog about. So, the rent is due today, but I was going to pay it yesterday. But, you know, when you get money out of an ATM, you can't ask for exactly the amount you need. So, I had to go above the amount I needed. I had to go over by like eighteen dollars because you have to request the amount in increments of twenty dollars. Well, you know how they work. So, I decided to go to Chik-fil-a and get some sweet tea so I could break the twenty and make life a little easier. So, me and my roommate are in the drive-thru, listening to sunny 92.3, and being silly. I had the twenty dollar bill in my hand and I was playing with it. And, then....
It happened.
The twenty dollar bill slipped down inside my car door.
I asked the two lips that hold the window to hold my twenty for a second. You know, I just needed to get something. So, I said, to the lips that hold the window, "will you please hold this for a second." They said, "oh, sure, no problem. We hold the window all the time, of course we can hold that twenty dollar bill." But, they did not. They failed. They let go.
Luckily, I had some more cash, or we would have been in trouble. But, we were both laughing so hard we were crying. The guy in the drive thru must have thought we were absolutely insane.
Then, we got home, and looked inside the door and Jessie said she could see it. So, we got a hanger, stretched it out, and stuck some gum on the end of it. It didn't work. Then we took the gum off and fashioned a little hook out of the hanger. Man, if only we had had the foresight to punch a hole in the bill that would've worked. Then, Kevin came over and he tried to take the door apart. Well, that started to look like it might be bad. I was afraid we were going to break the door and then it would cost more than twenty dollars to fix it.
So, today, I think we will try a vacuum. We might also try to fashion giant tweezers out of a hanger and see if that works. If it doesn't, then, when I sell my car, I'm just going to see it for twenty dollars more than it's worth, no matter what. But, for now, that twenty dollar bill is just laying at the bottom of my door taunting me, laughing at me.

Hands and Feet

So, as I am a senior for the second year in a row, I am familiar with senioritis. I no longer care about my gpa or what grades I get in any particular class. For, as my good friend reminded me so recently, c's get degrees. I am sick of writing papers, and I am so over exams. I don't mind skipping class. I won't lose any sleep over it. The semesters have become these never ending blocks of time. I can spot a freshman from a mile away, actually, I think I can smell them by now. I know what times to go to Walmart or the PCSU or even the business office to avoid people, and that's generally when I go. Yeah, I know all about senioritis, or so I thought.
I didn't think about another symptom of senioritis. It's when you break out in hives because people keep asking you what you are going to do with your degree or what you are going to when you graduate. Most of the time, I'm content answering honestly. I don't know what I'm going to do. I can give you my plans for the next year or so, but honestly, my future is something that I'm not completely sure of. I just don't know what road I'm going to take and where that road will eventually lead me. I just don't know. But, today, when I got into my car, Audio Adrenaline was playing. It's the Underdog cd. I don't know why it was in my changer, but it popped up and I was pretty excited. They were one of my favorites when I was in high school. Anyway, the song that was playing was Hands and Feet.
I started thinking that all God has asked me to do was to be his hands and his feet. God can't (or won't, take whatever theological standpoint you will, this is a blog) be here on this earth. He can't physically touch people, he can't hand them a glass of water, or help them build a church. But, we can. I'm no preacher. Sure, I can jump up on a soapbox every once in a while, but that is definitely not my calling. But, I can reach people with the message of Jesus just by handing them a cup of water. I don't know if I'm making any sense. But, from now on, when someone asks me what are you going to do with that degree (which admittedly it is a strange combination), I'm going to tell them that I am going to be His hands and feet. I'm serious, people. I'm not trying to be cute or super spiritual. This song really resonated with me today. I am going to be His hands and feet. I want to reach people in a really practical way. I want to clothe them, feed them, hold them, love them. I really want to be His hands and feet.

Nostalgia and Growing Pains

So, today, on the way to work, I was fooling around with my cd player, and what should fill my speakers, but the sounds of some old school John Mayer. Okay, maybe he's not that old school, but I think I bought that cd in high school. Well, I started feeling a little nostalgic. I was thinking about highschool and all the wonderful things that come along with it (sense the sarcasm), and how much I have changed since then. Just the other day, Crystal was saying that even if we could turn back time and go back to high school, it would be completely different. And it would, if I could relive that part of my life, knowing what I know now, nothing would be the same. But, if I could relive that part of my life, and I changed everything I did back then, what would my life be like now. I believe that some of those lessons were just too invaluable to give up just for the sake of the avoidance of a few pains. Plus, I could never give up Washington DC, Tyndale, and that one time we snowboarded.
But, even as I was reminiscing, I started to think about how I am looking forward to moving forward. Living with my parents now is no picnic. Man, there are a lot of people in that house. I hate my job with such a burning passion, that I feel it may be straight from the devil. I used to love that job. I used to really love that job, a lot. Now, I struggle to make it through the eight hours I have to sit behind that desk. And, while I am scared crapless about life after graduation, I am really looking forward to walking across that stage. I have no idea what's in store for me, but I know that I am outgrowing that person I used to be. I think that I have more than just come out of my shell, but I broke that thing wide open.

My Wonderful Afternoon

So, this is what happened to me today. It was noon and I was hungry, but, of course, I don't have any food in my apartment, so I decided to go to Subway. I didn't get my cell phone because Subway is like a block from my apartment. My cats have developed this habit of running out the door when you open it, so I was trying to keep them in the apartment and lock the door at the same time. So, guess what I forgot, yep, my keys. And I did manage to lock my door. Well, I didn't have my phone, so I decided to walk down to the gas station and call my roommate from the payphone. She didn't answer. I walked back to my apartment and I heard my neighbors in their apartment, so I knocked (actually, I had to knock like three times). We share a laundry room and I was hoping we had left the door unlocked, as we so often do. We had not. (Let me just interject that my neighbor was not very concerned about my plight. She didn't offer to let me use her phone or anything.) So, I sat on the porch for about a half an hour waiting for my roommate. I guess she didn't get my voicemail. I figured she was at her boyfriend's, so I started walking. It's a pretty long walk, probably a mile or two, maybe more. But, I didn't have anything else to do. So, I walked all the way to his apartment, only to find that they weren't there. Then, I had to walk all the way back home. Sure I could have called someone else, but I didn't have my phone, and the payphone had already eaten all my change, and I never memorize anybody's numbers anymore. So, I walk all the way back to my apartment. I'm still hungry and really thirsty, and I could have walked to Subway, but now I'm tired of walking, so I take a nap in my car. After I woke up, it was starting to get cold, so I decided to wait in the hallway of my building. My roommate has to come home soon because her car is here and she has to go to work. By this time it's like 4pm. My neighbor (not the same one as before, but her roommate) comes home and asks me what's wrong. She does let me use her phone and I call my roommate's boyfriend and he says shes in the fitting room, in Chattanooga. But, they are leaving as soon as Jessie buys the jeans, so I only have another half an hour to hang out in the freezing cold hallway. The good news was that I had left the television on so I at least had something to listen to. The bad news was that it was a Trading Spaces I had already seen twice. Finally, my roommate comes home and apoligizes profusely for not answering the phone the first time, but she has this thing about not answering numbers she doesn't recognize and she didn't want to check her voicemail because she was afraid it was work. Obviously, it's not her fault, I should have just gotten my keys. So, I spent an entire afternoon being locked out of my apartment, and no, it was not fun.