Clues

(I'm not sure which blog I'll mainly be using to post art on...)

These are a several of the clues I made for Adam's return home (see last post). Unfortunately, both our plans got very turned around by the time he got back, so it didn't go exactly how I wanted, but it all worked out in the end.

The original picture for one clue, which I made out of magazine cut-outs, tape, and the like.


This is what it looks like now. The middle piece on the top row is darker because I had it in the oven and my sister happened to make cookies without seeing it there. I had been sleeping so I was unable to save it, but it seemed to be okay anyways. Woot!

These are some of the other clues, not in any particular order.


This one you actually have to read in a mirror.

Re-Creative

(Yes, I posted this entry on my other blog, but it's such exciting news for me that I decided to post it on both blogs!)


(It didn't scan as well as I would have liked...but here it is!)

Just when I thought I lacked any creativity whatsoever anymore, or the modivation to stick to anything I start, I had this spark, an immediate urge to create. It came yesterday and so I took out some old carpet samples, and scrap materials from a sculpture piece I did last year, in an attempt to make something with them. I started working outside on the picnic table until the weather forced me to move indoors. There isn't much of a place for me to work at my house, as far as art projects go. No one comes home and sees my stuff as work in progress; they see it as a mess. So I spread my stuff on the island in the kitchen, a surface my dad really dislikes being cluttered with stuff. He wasn't home, which I took advantage of. When I reached the point of just not knowing what else to do with the little door piece I had created, I moved onto something else.

I had typed up some clues for a quest-like thing for Adam earilier in the evening, and so I went back to print and cut them out. I've made those... "quests," I guess I'll call them... before and always have so much fun thinking up clever ways to get from one clue to the next, even having some clues hidden online or with a friend or family member. The clues theselves can get quite involved, or at least I think they so (Adam's pretty good at figuring that stuff out). Typically, the clues are typed out or hand-written and most of the thought goes into where and how I am going to hide them. Last night, however, I thought it would be fun if I gave the appearance of the clues a little more attention. With this newly rekindled drive to create something, anything, I was willing to do it.

The very first clue I made was really what inspired me to make all of the clues specially. It started out slow as I tried to figure out what to do with it. Instead of leaving it in it's very straight forward, typed document look, I decided to cut out the lines of type and tape them onto calligraphy paper. Then I just started adding stuff, experimenting. Sometimes successfully, sometimes not.

Of course, the intriguing idea to do all this did not come until around nine or ten o' clock. So I ended up pulling an all-nighter, not wanting to lose the counter space, which I surely would by morning when my dad came home. But also because I was afraid that if I didn't keep going while I was in the zone, I would lose interest the next day. And I didn't want to lose the ideas that I had at only that moment, ideas I did not know how to write on paper because half of them were experimental on an as-I-went basis.

My favorite experiment was sort of an accidental discovery. Glue had not been working too well and was taking a lot of time. Normally, I would take the time to make it work if I had to, but as much as I was on a creative spree, I lacked the energy and, in turn, the patience. I grew achingly exhausted as the late hours of the night turned into the chilly, early morning hours. Anyways, the discovery I made happened when I had laid out the computer paper stips of text on top of the calligraphy paper how I wanted. I then attempted to apply the tape, but the static of the tape caused the strips to "jump" off the paper and cling to the tape before I had put it down. I was quite annoyed when it did that because I had to carefully pulled the strips off, which made them curly and harder to work with, and reposition them.

I think it was the second clue I worked on that the discovery happened. I found that when the text-covered, little strips were pulled away from the tape, they left behind a layer of ink, allowing the tape to act as a transparency, like the ones used for overhead projectors. And all I had to do was stick it to something, the text being visible, the tape not so much. I ended up using more tape than I thought I would when I started. The nice thing about it is that the original text was being removed from the paper completely, provided I was careful not to rip the tape away.

I'll try to get some images of the clues while I have the scanner available. But for now they are still hidden as Adam has not don't the quest yet. I'm just hoping he doesn't read this before then. These images, on the other hand, are the envelopes to the cards my dad got for my cousins' graduation party today. He asked me to write the names down and have everyone sign them, everyone being me and my two sisters. Eventually, I found myself doodling little designs in the corners. Then I broke out and just had fun with them, creating little scenes and characters.

Although I wasn't aiming to make masterpieces out of them, I felt the simple creativity of it was enough to be meditative or theraputic for me. I don't know how long I worked on them, but by the end, I had worked it out so that each envelope would match up with the other two. I thought it a shame to let them go without saving them in some way, so I used our scanner for the first time. I'm not sure it picked up the blue ink all that well, but you can still get the idea.





I'm quite happy about these few, recent little projects I've taken on, especially because it's on my own time and not deadline time. I hope this is not merely a passing creative bug.

Non-Meaty

My cat and dog are watching me eat a delicious burger, probably hoping I'll slide some their way. But I don't think they suspect it's veggie.

Losing My Inner Artist

Sometimes I feel like I've gotten this far for reasons that do not include skill or talent. Not even creativity. I used to be so creative when I was little, and I loved to doodle and draw all the time. I think my passion to create started the moment I was able to hold one of those big fat crayons that a little girl can barely wrap her hand around. That little girl, me, used to have a head full of ideas. Not really the kind that had been given deep thought. There were no hidden agendas back then. At least none that I can recall. They were simple things, but I still felt like I knew what I was doing. I had no rules to follow except those of nature, which I tried to the best of my ability to copy based on memory.

In kindergarden, I remember, the first thing we did was draw in our journal-type books. We could draw anything we wanted, but the teacher would call on some of us everyday to share with the class what we had drawn. The boy who sat across from me always scribbled these big blobs of color that, to me, didn't make sense because they didn't look like anything. I don't know if he was really trying or if he just wasn't intersted, but it doesn't really matter. It was kindergarden.

Anyways, I can recall this one time that teacher called on me to share. I had drawn something like a cat tripping over a rock, but explained that he'd be okay because cats land on their feet. I remember I had tried to make it look like a cat, pointed ears and whiskers and all. And there was another time when we were split up into groups to make up a story about three or four dinosaurs. Then we had to illustrate different scenes of the story to put on a long piece of paper. The paper was then rolled around a couple cardboard tubes and put in a box with a square cut in one side, so that when you turned the roll of paper, only one scene would show at a time and could transition to the next scene. I distinctly remember my groupmates' disosaurs looking like scribbley blobs. But I had wanted to do a "long neck" one that eats leaves. So I gave mine a long neck and four legs and drew a tree next to it. Okay, so maybe in my five or six year old mind that's what happened, so that's how I remember it. Maybe mine was a blob like everybody else's. But I was still using my imagination.

In recent years, I find that my imagination just isn't what it used to be. I will get this urge to create, but can't seem to get my modivation going. I don't feel particularly inpired by anything, and when I am, I don't know what to do with it, how to incorporate it into a piece.

When deadlines for classes are set, I force myself to come up with ideas. Those ideas never seem to strike me as anything special or creative. I usually don't start "feeling it" until I've carried out a decent looking piece that derived from the sketch my teacher and I thought would work best. I wish I could get into it from beginning to end. It's like I've lost the passion to do anything on my own anymore.

I started two paintings this summer -which is better than the last couple summers when I didn't do anything- but neither of them got very far. I had the final outcome in my head for each, but once I stopped what I was doing to take a "break," I wouldn't go back to it. Is it that I am too lazy to mix paint and set everything up again? I don't know.

Another thing is that it always seems like everyone else knows what they're doing. They have complete control over their pencil or conte or charcoal stick or whatever. I know my bigest challenge right now is learning to lighten up and not go over my lines so much. I think I've definitely improved the weight of my hand, working from the general to the specific. But I am still unsure of myself when it comes to my lines, my proportions. I see what I'm drawing and I know exactly what I have to do, but when it comes to doing it there is this thing that keeps me from doing it that way. I'm scared to mess up. I can't make distictions between what's a good artistic move and what's not. At least that's what I end up telling myself.

There are certain skills I am trying hard to work up to. Better technique. Smoother values. Texture. Pespective. Straight lines in general. Composition. I don't know specifically what it is that keeps me from being at the level of my fellow classmates, those select few who seem to be masters at everything they put their hand in. I think I am very close, just not quite there. I'm sure not carrying a sketchbook with me all the time has it's negative effects, and going this long without drawing can't be a good thing. I feel like such a fruad as an artist sometimes. Like I'm wasting the professors' time because I'll never be as good as my competition.

I used to look at the world around me with such an artistic eye, making trees look more blue than they really were or pulling out the purple in shadows or studying aerial perspective while on walks or runs. Now it seems I'm just itching to be inspired. But I know that I have to get out and make my own inspiration. I can't just expect it's going to happen in my living room. Not that that's impossible, but I guess that's more of a reactive approach than a proactive one, which I should be aiming for.

I think it's about time I call up the little girl inside me and set up a play date.

Unintended Eating Disorder?

The last time I was weighed at the doctor, at the end of June, I was down from 121 to 109. I didn't really know why there was such a decrease. I hadn't consciously changed my diet or anything. Honestly (and sadly), my summer has been spent mostly on the computer. Part of the reason is that I'm taking an online class, which I put a lot of time into. Other than that, I just haven't had much to do. I don't have a job this summer, and I don't usually have a vehicle available to go anywhere with because my sisters and dad all work during the day. And most of my friends have jobs during the week so I don't really see them. When the weekend comes, I am with Adam. That usually means I am in Rocky Hill with him. Even when we stay in Wolcott, there are errands to be done and decisions to be made about where and when to do things together. On occassion, there are family events and such. So weekends are extremely busy while weekdays are extremely uneventful.

I guess the only time I really eat a lot is when I'm Adam or friends or family. When I'm by myself, I get caught up in whatever it is I'm doing without paying much attention to time or what my body needs, unless it is in need of the bathroom. But I actually got really scared the other day. I was at Adam's house on a weekday, but there was no one home during the day. I was working on my online course, and just writing a lot in a notebook, things on my mind that needed to be sorted out.

I did get up to get a cup of yogurt for breakfast, but that was it until Adam came home at about 4:00. Even then we didn't eat right away. We both wanted to take showers before his friends came over to discuss the canoeing trip coming up. We decided I would go first. I felt very light-headed in the shower, with this strange feeling of weakness in my entire body. But I made it out okay. When I weighed myself on the bathroom scale, it read 104. I really wanted to get some food in me.

While Adam was in the shower, I started making tomato soup on the stove. I had a pudding or yogurt or something to eat while I was waiting for the soup to be ready, all the while feeling weaker and weaker as I stirred. His parents came home. They were in the kitchen talking about Desnise's bee sting. I was listening politely. Then the feeling of ligh-headedness and weakness became overwhelming. I felt faint. All I could think of to do was sit down because I could barely stand.

At first Tim thought I was just being silly and asked if I was melting. But when they saw my hanging head weakly shake back and forth, they realized something was wrong. I was slowly gasping for air. I felt so tired. When asked what was wrong, I managed to communicate to them that I felt really light-headed and dizzy. Denise ran to get a cold washcloth for my neck. Tim stayed with his hand on my back. I was reassured I'd be okay and they insisted I just stay sitting for a while. Denise took care of the soup for me.

When Adam came out shortly after and saw me sitting on the floor, he picked me up and brought me to a chair at the kitchen table. He told me I had to eat something. I couldn't even lift my head off the kitchen table, though. It seemed like all of my energy had escaped me. Upon seeing my disposition, Adam carried me to his bed and laid me down to rest. When he brought the soup in for me, I had trouble sitting up by myself, so he lifted me against some pillows and used a plasic drawer kind of thing as a makeshift table for my legs. I was barely able to lift the spoon to my lips, but was finally eating again. I finished two bowls of tomato soup and some of a slice of potato bread.

I couldn't really eat anything solid because I had had my wisdom teeth removed several days prior. I kind of blamed that for my lack of eating more. I had gotten tired of yogurt and pudding and applesauce. But it's really no excuse for not eating. I want to get better about eating more. I have to stop "forgetting" to eat and start remembering to take care of myself.

I think the way I've been spending my summer days has made me very lazy to the point where I'm not doing that. Wow, that's really lazy! How can I not eat? I pee when I have to. Might as well eat, too. I don't consider myself anorexic, but I don't want to become like that, even if I don't mean to.

It's kind of strange. Most girls, I would think, would be happy about weighing less. But I don't care about my weight in the sense of wanting to look a certain way; I just want to be a healthy weight. In this case, I want to get back upto the weight I used to be, around 120. It's kind of funny that I want to gain weight and Adam wants to lose weight.

My Clever Pets

I should be writing the paper and doing the discussion board topic, but I just realized how awesome my pets are.

My dog, Ruby, is so cool! She learned how to open the sliding screen door to the backyard. So she can let herself in or out. She hasn't quite gotten the hang of shutting it behind her, but it's still cool that she can open it. She first started opening it by the giant hole in the bottom of the screen, but now she just nudges the frame with her nose.

My cat, Rumpel, learned how to use the hole to his advantage, too. When he wants to come in or go out, he squeezes through it.

The other cat, Rogue, figured out how to open pretty much any door in the house by clawing at it with her "hand." She used to only be able to do it if the door was cracked ever so slightly, but now she can do it if the door isn't latched all the way. Sometimes I'll think the door is completely shut, so when she tries to open it I don't think she will. But no. She gets it open anyway.

My pets rock!

A Simple Waiting

Just waiting for Kaylee to get home from work. Emily is at the family computer, typing away. She is waiting, too. The three of us will be meeting our dad at Ruby Tuesday this evening for a family dinner out. It's been a while, and I'm looking forward to it. I do wish I had known about it sooner, for just about an hour or two ago, I made macaroni and cheese for myself. I'm still pretty full. But I don't need to be hungry to spend time with them.

Kaylee's home now. We have a fly problem. Swatter time!

[Correction: We went to Olive Garden]

Desert

The desert is dry and hot and uncomfortable. That is, for someone as human as I it is. I feel thirsty. I can see the heat rising off the sand in the distance. It plays tricks on the eyes. It tries to deceive unsuspecting travelers, who are lost and can not seem to find their way back to civilization. Were they not so susceptible to these hallucinations, they might not be stranded. I am one of them. I find I have passed the same cactus at least four times. I try not to walk in circles but the desert is having her way. At night, she is so cold. I shiver under the moon. What else is there to do but wait for the rain every day? Such a long way off it seems.

But a pillar of cloud and fire is set before me. I marks my steps and leads the way. He is taking me to water. He is taking me to safety. He is taking me to the place where it will rain for days. He will not be angry that I was lost in the desert, but will greet me with opened arms and proclaim my return. He is love. He is my love. And he is in me and with me and for me. Someday, He will lead me to the place where my thirst will be forever quenched, and the water on my lips will be delicious.

The desert is a wonderful place to wait. How much sweeter will be the day I come out of such a place!

My 100th Post

HIV/AIDS has become such a huge epidemic. No, I'd rather say it's a pandemic because it's worldwide. If you are wondering what sparked this topic, I'll let you know that I am taking an online course about AIDS and epidemics. I've been looking at charts and graphs and reading up on the history of a lot of diseases, especially HIV and AIDS. It turns out that HIV infection is a HUGE problem and it's getting worse. True, there are not as many deaths from AIDS as there used to be, but the rate at which people are infected with the virus itself continues each year. In the 90's, it peaked. Now there is a consistent average of 40,000 NEW cases each year. And it's estimated that... I think it was something like 20-ish percent to 30-ish (again just an estimate)... Well, anyways, there are still a lot of people walking around who are infected but have no idea that they are.

And I'm curious. With all that we know about STD's and stuff, how could anyone not question every sex partner they have about his or her sexual and medical history? And if you are sexually active, how could you not get tested? You could be walking around with something that could ruin someone else's life! Is it really worth the one night of pleasure? Would you really trade that for a life threatening disease that you must live with?

And what can be done to stop it? I was originally playing with the idea that it could be made illegal to have unprotected sex if you have been officially diagnosed as being infected. I mean, it should be your responsibility to tell someone you are about to have sex with that you have an STD, instead of hiding it. Again, that's someone's life in your hands. But then there's the first ammendment. Shoot, I looked all over for it, but could find it. Anyways, the first amendment is that we have the right to live, speak, etc. However, they only apply to individual persons as long as they are not conflicting with someone else's rights.

For instance, murder. Murder is against the law because it conflicts with someone else's rights: the right to live! So if you KNOW you have a lethal STD and do not tell your partner, and you have sexual intercourse anyways, is that not a form of murder? Sure, the partner should have been smart enough to ask, but you are just as responsible. And what about drivers who are responsible for an accident and the person in the other car dies? Yes, they go to jail for man-slaughter. Of course, it was an accident! They didn't mean to spill their coffee in their lap and take their eyes of the road for that one second. They didn't know the light had tuned red... whatever. You see my point? Something so out of someone's control is still classified as a form of murder... and they didn't even know about it.

And what's the deal with accessory to murder? Just means you knew what was happening and didn't say anything... basically. Or that you helped but were not committing the act itself. An example I found online was that if someone were driving with friends in the car, and he suddenly pulled out a gun and shot someone in another car, the police would most likely charge everyone in the car with murder.

So maybe you're thinking, "Well, HIV doesn't kill right away. So it's not murder."

What about attempted murder? Poisoning? Ever see The Sixth Sense? How they caught that woman on tape poisoning that little kid over time through meals? (sorry if i just spoiled that for anyone) The point is, even though the kid was dying slowly from his illness, it was because she had been killing him slowly. So what if she had poisoned him just once and it did kill him slowly still? What's the difference between that and having sex with someone who doesn't know you have HIV when you do know? Is there a difference? You are risking passing something to them that will probably take years off of their life, which conflicts with their right to live. WOuld that not be an act of attemted murder, if not, even an accessory (if you wanted to blame it on the virus itself)?

Now again, these are just thoughts. I just think there needs to be improvement in how we are attacking this issue as more and more people are being infected with this deadly virus, and some who do not even know they are infected.

So if you are reading this, and if you are sexually active, PLEASE go get tested. Even if you and your partner have never had sex with anyone else before, you never know. Or if you are sexually active with multiple partners, GO GET TESTED OFTEN! Probably after every partner would be good. And you don't only owe it to yourself to get tested, but to those who you may have sex with in the future. And always ask your partner about their sexual and medical history. If they don't know whether or not they have anything because they haven't gotten tested, DON'T HAVE SEX WITH THEM!!! Especially if they have had sex with other people before. Encourage them to get tested.

Oh, and ladies, birth control pills or patches will NOT protect you from STD's. Either use a condom or don't have sex at all if you don't know his history. Seriously, (and this goes for guys, too) you may be totally turned on and stimulated, but it'll be worth giving up rather than finding out later that you have HIV or another STD, and that you probably gave it to five other people.

WHAT THE HECK!!! Is the world's addiction to sex going to be what does it in?

(This was a very long and aggravated rant. Sorry, I just want the world to be a better place. It just seems that if people could just keep their pants on long enough to ask the right questions, we would be a lot better off.)

wiggly worms

wiggly worms in and out
i thought i had an assignment due tomorrow
but i'm so ahead that i thought i was behind
now there's time for rest
none for worrying
my love is outside mowing the lawn
what fun that must be with heat rash
i don't hear the mower now
he must be done
hooray hoorah
i can't wait to cuddle up
and we will nap peacefully
i squished the wiggly worms

Pickles

I hate pickles.

Starving... One is a choice; One is not

If I am hungry, then I can eat. I can eat if I choose to. There is no worry in my mind that I may not be able to eat tomorrow. Because I am just that fortunate, that blessed. To live in the United States of America, to have come from a middle-class family, and to have grown up not knowing the feeling of starvation... well, I've just been thinking about that. I know how I feel when I have not had much to eat in a day. But I can't even imagine what it must be like to go for days without eating.

And there's something else I don't understand. These people who have the opportunity to eat, but choose not to because they want to be skinnier. It's one thing to fast for health or spiritual reasons, but starving yourself to fit into some tiny box of society's idea of what is beautiful or "sexy" is sad. Not to say that people who do this to themselves are bad people. I feel really sorry for them. I wish there was a way to let them all know that they are beautiful, no matter what the world says, and that they are loved just the way they are. And I wish they knew that starving themselves is hurting the people around them.

Pulled

So today was not quite an unproductive day. I sorted through my Facebook friends list, removing the people I either didn't know or that I really met only once and never talk to. I wasn't doing it to be mean or anything. Anyways...

In addition to the productiveness, I had to go pick up my sister, Emily, and her friend from school. Before I left, I lugged a big box of old computer text books to the truck. I somehow managed to lift the whole thing over the side and into the bed, but it was a bit of a strain. Why was I putting those books in the truck? Because my other sister, Kaylee, asked me this morning if I could bring them to the library to donate them. The computer company she works for no longer has a use for them. So I sleepily said I would, as I was still in bed when she asked. I didn't know how big the box was at the time.

So I decide to bring the books to the library on the way back from picking up the girls, since it was right on the way. In the school parking lot, I had to sqeeze through two parked cars that were nearly blocking my way to the pick-up area. It was quite frustrating because I was blocking someone who was parked in an actual parking spot. The two selfishly parked cars left just enough room for one car at a time to get by. Now there I was with this big pickup truck. I started to attempt the squeeze (and I was going to HAVE to get through if I wanted to turn around to exit) until two cars on the other side moved to get out through the small space. So I had to back up, being watchful of the many students that were heading to their cars. I was quite nervous when those two cars maneuvered between the selfish-cars and around the truck, and impressed when they came out successful. When I saw that there were no other cars coming through, and that the selfish-cars showed no signs of moving anytime soon, I carefully squeezed my beast of a vehicle through as well. Relief! But honestly! Why can't people just be more thoughtful when they park? I like knowing that if I park somewhere, other cars will still have plenty of room to get by. *sigh* Whatever...

So after I got the girls, we stopped at the library so I could drop off the books. Again, I had to lift the heavy box of them out of the bed. I couldn't do it on the first try, so I had to take some out and set them on the edge. Then once I had the box on the edge I put them back in. I slowly made my way to the door, struggling to carry the weight. Luckily there were handles on the side of the box, but eventually my fingers felt as though they might fall off. I tried to mentally get over the pain, telling myself that I was used to carrying heavy things at school and that this was no different. But this was heavier than most things I carry at school, even heavier than all the glass stuff I've had to carry. As I approached the door, I realized I was going to have no way of opening it. That is, until I saw the automatic door button. I pushed it and both the first and second door opened for me.

I set the books down on the front counter and explained that the books were for donation. The two women working talked between themselves about whether or not they were taking donations. Looking back on it, it's kind of funny. The fact that I had books to donate seemed to be a very serious matter. They went to check with, who I assumed was, the head librarian. I suppose working at a library can't be all that exciting (unless you are that into books, I guess) and for something out of the ordinary to happen, no matter how small, is more of an issue than one would think.

They went to a room behind the counter to talk to... I think they said her name was Karen. The wall between me and them was made of glass of some kind, and so I watched them discuss the issue. Judging by the expressions on their faces, and [Karen]'s slow and wary head movements, it did, indeed, seem to be a big deal. [Karen] came out to the counter, looking at me, then the box of books, then at me again. I almost felt like I was some unstable crazy person who might go off if these books were not donated. She said that they were not taking donations, but asked what they were, the whole time having a very concerned look on her face. I explained that my sister had asked me to bring them to be donated, and that they were from the company she worked for. That was really the extent of my knowledge about these books. She asked me what year they were, which sort of aggrivated me, having just explained that they were my sisters and I really didn't know anything else about them. So I said I didn't know, again saying that my sister asked me to bring them. She looked at the dates of a couple and explained they were too old to be used, and said they were garbage.

I didn't really care. I just wanted to leave, not being concerned with what happened to the stupid books. A simple yes or no would have sufficed. Eventually, I lugged the box back out to the truck. SO HEAVY!!! I totally pulled something...

Skills To Possess When Trying To Avoid the Inevitable

Oh, happy little blog of mine, you seem so lonely.


There are plenty of other things I could/should be doing right now, but I've let a lot of blogging opportunities pass me by recently. So I am taking this time out of my morning to grab hold of this one.

Aunt Bethy was over the house yesterday with her new baby, and my cousin, Adam. (Yes, my new baby cousin has the same name as my fiance. Fun?) My dad is paying her to clean the house. So while she was cleaning, I was playing with Adam. He had been moved from the walker to a towel on the floor. I sat down and interacted with him. I think he's about five or six months old (or maybe it's three...I dunno), so there was only so much I could do. Although, perhaps the limits of playing were greater than what I thought, but I don't really know a lot about babies, so I kept it simple. Lift baby up and bring him down gently. He seemed to get a kick out of that. Take his hands and pull him to a stand, then let him back to the floor. He seemed to like that, too. I did these things for a while until he started to cry. Aunt Bethy explained that sometimes babies get over-stimulated and start to cry. So she said to just give him a toy and leave him alone for a bit. Sure enough, he settled down after I did as she said.

Later, she changed his diaper. I watched. I've never changed a diaper in my life. Not because I think it's gross; I've just never had to, nor have I had the opportunity to learn. It was nice to talk to Aunt Bethy though. She offered useful information about having kids for the first time, like how nothing prepares you for giving birth, but it's still not as bad as some people make it out to be. I'm sure I'll still be nervous, but it was reassuring to hear her side. She also said how it's unfortunate that these days they don't really teach girls how to raise kids or to handle babies. Rather, these days they teach you only how to be independent as a woman and that you don't need a man, which is true to some degree. But there are so many girls who have no idea how to deal with kids.

I am one of those girls. I grew up in a home of two parents and two sisters. My sisters and I are all close in age. My aunt grew up with two parents and seven siblings! The older siblings got plenty of experience changing diapers and taking care of kids because the younger siblings were a LOT younger. Their dad was working three jobs to support the family, while their mom stayed at home until the older kids were old enough to take care of the little ones. Then she went to work, too. So most of the kids grew up knowing about hard work and raising kids and working together as a family. There was none of that "be independent and take care of yourself" mind set. But they were learning to be independent while working together and serving each other, knowing the importance of hard work and love. Oh, and there were four boys and four girls, all nicely mixed in age. (girl, boy, boy, girl, girl, boy, girl, boy)

Okay, so that was then. That was a crazy big family. This is now. Families don't usually get that big anymore. But I do find it interesting that, although society today promotes female independence without men at all in the picture (unless negatively so), and the idea that it's okay to have as much sex as you want outside of marriage as long as you're having fun, there are now thousands of teenage girls and young women who are getting pregnant and have no idea how to raise a child on their own. I mean, you can promote do-it-yourself women independence all you like, and even neglect to teach young girls and teens about birth and taking care of a baby and all that Home Ec stuff (I guess because it implies that women only have one role to play and that role is being a stay-at-home mom).

But in the end, it really doesn't matter what kind of life you have as a woman. You can be single and independent, fine. You can be in a relationship looking to get married. Or maybe you like being in a relationship without the thought of marriage, still having sex. I mean, jeez! Even I could call it quits on marriage and life a life of pleasure, independence, and fun. What matters though is that women are still women. Men are still men. "Boys have penises and girls have vaginas." Women are the ones who get pregnant. Men are the ones who just fertilize the egg.

No matter what the culture is, no matter what society says is good and bad, God's perfect design cannot be changed. It can be manipulated by evil, but never changed. And so whatever effort the world puts in to telling women not to bother learning the essentials of a typical housewife or mother, the truth is that someday all women will need to know to some degree what makes a baby tick or how to cook a meal. You just never know when the need will arise.

My ideal life as a woman:
To be established as a successful illustrator, having a job that I worked toward with only the help of God.
To be married to a good and honest Christian man who respects women and does not feel superior over them.
To make love with my husband, without having to work to find love from other places. (To think, an endless supply of intimacy, commitment, and pleasure, and all I had to do was play the game God's way! Sweet!)
To have learned how to cook and change a diaper.
To have three children.
To retire at the age of sixty-five or younger.
To live with Jesus for eternity in Heaven.

I am a woman. There are things I wish I had had learned but was never taught, things I really should know. Thanks a lot, World. Thanks for teaching me to be a "real" woman.

Spring 2007 GPA

So school's over again for the time being. We're getting into the summer now. It would seem I've been posting my GPA after each semester. So I guess this semester should be no different. 'Twas not as great a semester as the previous, but still much better than those of freshman year.

Spring 2007 GPA: 3.80
Overall GPA: 3.77

Not terrible. Not excellent. There is much room for improvement. And the funny thing... I got A's in my two least favorite classes, and A-'s in my three favorite classes. What does this tell me? That perhaps my priorities are not where they should be? Or maybe I'm just not putting enough effort into my priorities, especially my major. I'm quite disappointed in myself for not keeping up my level of quality in the drawing field. I've got to start getting more modivated, more gung-ho about my major. Hmmm...

Turkey Jerky

Right now I'm munching on some of the turkey jerkey one of Adam's co-workers made. It's quite good. I still don't know how I feel about it not being cooked, but I'll make an exception for the flavor and chewy goodness.

If anyone out there is wondering what I'm doing writing a blog entry when I should be working on my final projects for exam week, then you should know that I actually can not do anything at the moment. The photo studio is closed, the glass studio is closed, and I don't really have to study for art history until a few hours before the test. It kind of scares me actually that I'm not able to work on anything, especially when I have so much left to do. Although, besides taking this opportunity to type an entry and eat jerky, I could potentially start cleaning and packing for Tuesday. Ah, Tuesday. I can't wait to go home! Soon... soon.

Okay! Shower time!

Rings are for Hobbits

So I left you all in suspense, did I? Yes, I made it back home safely and the trip was great. I had an amazing experience throughout all of it. I've gotten back to school work and such since then.

And something wonderful happened yeaterday. No, I'm not talking about Easter. Although that, too, is a wonderful thing, the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. But something special happened to me and Adam.

We went to church in the morning, headed to a few other places, and then decided to get Subway for lunch. Adam took me to the grassy field near the sand pits. It was the same place he had taken me the day he told me he loved me. We had Subway then, too.

So we parked and had some deep and meaningful conversation while we ate lunch. Then he got out of the car and came around to my door and asked me to marry him. Well, that's the short version. And I basically said yes. So now we're engaged.

I've been telling people about it to share with them my joy. One of the questions that seems to come up the most is, "Where's the ring?" or "Why don't you have a ring?"

I must say that there are things more important to me than getting fancy jewelry.
But, Alyssa, it's significant!
Why? How is a little shiny thing going to make us more engaged than we already are? And I realized that it'd probably end up getting damaged or lost if I wore it in the shop. But even if I didn't have to work in the shop, I just don't want a ring. I'd rather we save his money for our future. I can't eat a ring, live in it, or sleep in it. It's just a piece of metal with something shiny on it.

Wedding rings are a little different, but for now, I don't need an engagement ring.

*edit- This is totally not to put down people who DO have engagement rings! This is just my view on having one, for me.

This Too Shall Pass

The last week of school is over. The stress of getting projects done on time has been reduced to nearly nothing. There are still a couple things waiting for me after spring break, but for now I shall not think of it. Now I must focus on the spring break trip to New Orleans. I leave tomorrow at 6pm. I'll carpool with a few people, meet at New Haven, and board a coach bus. Then we'll be on the road for about a day. That's a lot of travel time! Luckily, I had my experience with a long road trip over the winter break, so I think I'll be somewhat prepared for that.

I must admit, I am nervous. I'm not sure if it's a feeling that something bad is going to happen, or just that I'm uncertain of what to expect in an entirely different part of the country, where disaster has stuck and we are the ones going to help rebuild homes. What will happen to me? Will I get to see my loved ones again after this trip? What does the Lord have planned?

I shouldn't be scared or nervous. I am in the Lord's hands. But still... the human part of me knows this is a big risk in a lot of ways. The long journey down, the work days to come, new people to meet and live with for a week, and the journey home. One week. Seven days. A lot can happen in that time frame. What, I don't know. And that is what both excites me and frightens me.

Well, if anyone reads this... not to be morbid or anything, but...

If something happens to me:

Chelsea can have my art supplies and art books.
Emily and Kaylee... Well, I guess you can have whatever you want that's left. Like my room.
I don't really have much.
Mom and Dad can have whatever artwork they want.

Adam can have my guitars and Bibles... And is left already with my heart. Oh, and whatever money I have in my bank of america account can go to you.

Any other money laying around goes to Intervarsity.

Um... Any cd's I own can be given to... whoever. Adam I guess, and then make sure they get shared with others.

This laptop I'm using right now should be returned to Uncle Mike.

Dad can distribute the rest of my junk to the family, including Mom's.

I hope everyone's praying! I need it!

Pre-Stress Downtime

Right now blogging will be my small downtime before the stress of my busy weekend kicks in.

I've been captured by a song. It's a song I've listened to multiple times. And everytime I hear it I feel somewhat emotional. It's a song by Bethany Dillon, called "Beautiful." I think it speaks to the heart of every woman. As women, we often struggle with self-worth and self-image. We want to be loved, and we want to be beautiful. But most of us think we have very little to nothing beautiful about us. Some hide behind make-up, some wear revealing clothing, some dye their hair, some wear jewelry, some stop eating... the list goes on. There are many ways in which women are driven to create a beauty the world wants, when really, there is a beauty inside each and every one of us. And no, I don't mean just the inner beauty (though that is important, too). I am talking about actual, physical, visible beauty. Every girl, every woman, is a rose. It doesn't matter if you're tall, short, skinny, fat, blond, brunette, a red-head, with green eyes, brown eyes, blue eyes, dark skin, light skin, large breasts, small breasts, round butt, flat butt, muscles, or flab. Every single woman is a beauty to be admired.

Beautiful by Beathany Dillon:

I was so unique
Now I feel skin deep
I count on the make-up to cover it all
Crying myself to sleep cause I cannot keep their attention
I thought I could be strong
But it's killing me

Does someone hear my cry?
I'm dying for new life

I want to be beautiful
Make you stand in awe
Look inside my heart, and be amazed
I want to hear you say
Who I am is quite enough
Just want to be worthy of love
And beautiful

Sometimes I wish I was someone other than me
Fighting to make the mirror happy
Trying to find whatever is missing
Won't you help me back to glory

I want to be beautiful
Make you stand in awe
Look inside my heart, and be amazed
I want to hear you say
Who I am is quite enough
Just want to be worthy of love


You make me beautiful
You make me stand in awe
You step inside my heart, and I am amazed
I love to hear You say
Who I am is quite enough
You make me worthy of love and beautiful

Carrot Juice Fo REALZ!!!

Okay, so I just posted about 30 seconds ago. But Chelsea and I were discussing the idea of an all vegetable cleansing diet that would last three weeks. The idea appeals to me very much. I would be totally down with completely dumping the crap I normally eat to eat just healthy food. Chelsea's neighbors have done this diet before and claim they feel great after doing it. So... raw veggies for a week, juiced veggies for a week, and another week of raw veggies. Sounds exciting and challenging.

I also just had carrot juice for the first time tonight. I didn't think I would like it, but suprisingly, I really do! And it's pure carrot juice, nothing from concentrate, but 100% pure pressed. And what's even more exciting? Vitamin A: 700%. Great for the eyes! I think I would like to get a juicer someday, grow my own veggies, and live much healthier than I do now. That would be pretty sweet.

Go Veggies!