Striped.Towels

Moved!

2006-01-17T22:10:00.000-08:00

For those of you who don't know, I've moved to www.lukeamy.blogspot.com. You are welcome to our new blog!

I am Am, Am I am

2005-07-23T12:07:00.000-07:00

I was planning to spend the twenty-two minutes I have until I need to remove my Crest WhiteStrips and finish getting beautiful for work reading other people's blogs, posting comments, and otherwise catching up on the world outside Harry Potter.
But it seems that my (two) adoring fans are starved for a pointless, not-very-interesting, hyphen-riddled Amy story, and I'm not one to disappoint my fans.

Speaking of getting beautiful...I don't think I have enough dedication for this particular feat. The WhiteStrips box says something like "radiant teeth after seven days," but apparently that includes two treatments every day. Now, something you may not know about me is that I have very sensitive gums. Stab them with a pretzel, they hurt for a week. Brush them the wrong way, they bleed uncontrollably. Tell them a sad story, they use a whole box of tissues.* Anyway, I decided to take the safe route, doing one treatment a day for fourteen days. That's not bad, right? Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I am terrible at commitment. Fourteen days has stretched into, what is it now? five weeks? That's, umm, 35-ish days. That's a freakin' long time to not finish what I started!
So anyway, after today, I'll have two treatments left. Hopefully I'll get them done before Christmas.
By the way, if you're scoffing at my use of tooth-whitening product, thinking I've given in to societal pressure or am feeding the Walmart giant, you can just lay off, alright? There's a harrowing tale behind this, one involving a sad little girl with naturally yellow teeth and the evil dentist who condemned her to 12 long years of waiting. Besides, the Strips came from Target.

Other adventures in the Quest for Beauty series include:
Seven Days from Armpits to Underarms (and flaky white stuff on all my clothes)
I Was a Teenage Leper: how high-heel blisters changed my life
Confessions of a Color Junkie: an adventure in mixing
Orange-Faced Dreamer: why, in make-up, less really is more
and the old classic,
Never Cut Your Own Bangs

Of course, I'm turning in my two-weeks notice today, so, soon enough, I won't have to look good every day. Thank God for college.

*Note the use of hyperbole in this section (and in, generally, anything I write) in the use of descriptors like for a week, uncontrollably, and pretty much that whole last sentence. (I don't want anyone to think my teeth are falling out.)

2005-07-08T21:35:00.000-07:00

hee hee

Harry and Shirley and Boy, oh my!

2005-07-06T22:00:00.000-07:00

Well, it's official.
My life it pretty boring.

Yep. Boring.
I've been reading up on Uganda, just finished an excellent book called Dangerous Beauty by Mark Ross. He's an American safari guide living in Kenya, and while I'm sure my studious experiences will be quite different from what he described, it was still a great read that made me bouncing-up-and-down excited about next spring.

Speaking of over-excited, the new Harry Potter book comes out in 8 days, 23 hours, and 55 minutes. Yep. My life is that boring.

So...I, uh, cut my bangs today. I've been doing it myself since eighth grade, and, take it from me, you should never cut your own bangs. It only ends disasterously. It usually makes for a good laugh, though, if you're into that whole haha, I look a little like Boy George now because my jagged bangs only come to the middle of my forehead thing like I am. My mom kept telling me to curl them. I don't really see how making them poofy is going to help...

Yesterday, I read A Little Princess. You know, they made a Shirley Temple movie out of it; I think it was called "The Little Princess." Anyway, it was a nice way to fill the afternoon. Tomorrow, I'm tackling Treasure Island.

You'd think English majors like myself would want to read good, fulfilling literature during the summer break. You know, books with words over three syllables long. But, nope, not me! I read kids books, and tell myself that the ladies at the library probably just think I have a little sibling who likes to read. And who can't come to the library because he/she, um...can't...walk. I mean, that's what you'd think, right?

And I'm a storyteller, anyway. At competitions in high school, when there was a conflict between Ready Writing and Prose, I always chose to present my prose. It's much more fulfilling. So that's why I have to read children's books so much. Because of storytelling, of course.

Anyway, I think I might re-read Pride and Prejudice one of these days. I like that witty banter.

That's probably enough from me. I have a tendency to turn people to stone when I'm talking.
G'night.

pizza, homemade for dinner

2005-07-02T19:16:00.000-07:00

July doesn't just hit Texas. It bites its ear off.

P.S. Iron & Wine [our endless numbered days]
+ The White Stripes [elephant]
= My Summer [mood music]

Strawberries from the Farmer's Market: a sweet little break

2005-06-30T10:36:00.000-07:00

Reading everyone else's blog makes me feel slightly ashamed and much more privileged than I had realized. Now that I've found some hobbies-of-sorts, I really have nothing to complain about. I live with my mom, so while I don't get to hang out with her like I'd like to, I at least see her every day and can keep up with her life. I just spent four wonderful days traveling with Luke, during which we had a picnic at an outdoor ballet, bought a book and a cd, watched a movie with his mom, had an indoor bbq, and, like Neil Armstrong, took some small steps that felt like giant leaps in our relationship. I took my aunt Pam on a date to eat the Chinese food she was craving and to see "A Perfect Man," which was much better than we both expected it to be and quite enjoyable.
I'm making friends with the people at work. Since my store is women's clothing only (There's a hint for ya', David), there's no shortage of girl time in my life. I spend four hours every day discussing shoes and skirts and toenail polish. On Sunday, I spent six hours reorganizing the shoe room and dancing with one of my coworkers to the patriotic choir stationed right outside our store. And it was really fun. I laughed like she was one of my oldest friends, my favorite people. She makes me feel like she actually wants to hang out with me--weird, I know.
And--get this--I'm actually one of the top sales-people at work right now.

How funny. This is life as I always think it's supposed to be: plenty of time to myself, just enough money, good friends and family, activities on the weekends; and it's so unremarkable that I doubt I'll ever think of this when I scroll through my memories. God must know what He's doing when He gives us such extreme measures of joy and sorrow, along with these sweet little breaks of middle-of-the-road-ness. A little breathing time, so when the next big thing comes along, I'll be strong enough to take it.

8-Hour Top 10

2005-06-23T20:30:00.000-07:00

Today, I:
1. was hit on by Uncle Jessie from Full House
2. created an outfit for a fashion show
3. was hit on by a gaggle of teenage boys attempting to shoplift underwear
4. found my ideal engagement ring
5. ate a white-chocolate-Macadamia-nut cookie the consistency of oatmeal
6. conversed with a jewelry saleswoman about the ins and outs of nerd-dating
7. learned about Ugandan animals while sitting at a flower-shaped table on grass-printed tiles
8. cleaned fourteen mirrors
9. discussed callous shavers with a woman on smoke break
10. worked my first 8-hour shift

Un Annonce

2005-06-19T09:18:00.000-07:00

I have such an exciting news update for you today!
Oh Baby!
Top Stories:
Senior Cheerleading Captain Mendy Ivey named UCA All-Star Cheerleader
(but will always live in my memories as an overexuberant freshman when I was captain. There used to be a picture of me with my metal in the trophy case, but I think the cheer sponser eradicated all signs of me from the school the day after I graduated. I'd like to thank my grandpa and the good folks at North Texas e-news for the tip-off and photos. And congrats to "Poison Ivey" for sucking all the anti-cheerleader goodness out of the Sam Rayburn squad.)

Program "Hello" mysteriously disappears from Clark-vanEttinger family computer
(which sucks. And which is why I'm linking to full articles instead of just photos. Because it takes two years to download a program with this internet. Sigh. JBU computer/internet people, I salute you.)

Amy finally allowed to wear jeans to work
(because she finally bought some from her place of employment. WoooHooo!! Who cares if they have little gold sparklies on the pocket and tent-like bell bottoms? They're too long--I have to roll 'em up anyway... And they go oh-so-well with my new work-related "Nerds are Cute" screen-printed T in black and pink (permanently on sale for $10 each when you buy two or more), and they sure beat wearing skirts everyday. Oh yeah. I'm wearin' jeans today. Who's still a tomboy? I'm still a tomboy. Even though it may seem hidden in some dark, forgotten corner of my being, crowded out by all the camis, stilletos, and metallic handbags, even though I haven't climbed a tree since that one Emily and I got stuck in, even though I've always sucked at baseball, I am still a tomboy, and I will wear jeans to work! Rar!!

um...i'm done now.)

Melissa Earle calls Amy on the telephone
(You might remember Melissa from the cover of the summer 2005 issue of the John Brown Bulitten...bulliten...bulliton...bulletin...crap, how do you spell it? Bulletin? Anyway, she's in Detroit right now, I think, so it was quite exciting to receive a call. Speaking of the ol' JBB, Israel and I are on page...4-ish...in very small photos. Exciting, eh?)

Amy decides news-writing is not the life for her
(I am much better suited to lunch-eating and, maybe later, some clothes-selling. I'm sure you'd all agree.)

There. Wasn't that exciting?

I've got astomachache

2005-06-16T18:12:00.000-07:00

I hate criticism.
I do! I always have. I think it's one of the worst things in the world.
I mean, I like instruction. Education. Re-alignment. Even punishment.
But who ever wants to be criticised?

I'm feeling a lot lately the way I felt those nights in third grade when Dad stuffed his wallet in his khaki pocket and turned out of the room as I came in, leaving his Chapstick behind on the dresser where I had to stand on tip-toe to use it and smell it and know that he was coming back because he always did, and, besides, he couldn't leave his Chapstick. But it was scary going to sleep, because his snores weren't there to ward off robbers and creeps and give me salty doses of air when I had an asthma attack.

It's silly the way I go cold inside every time I hear strained voices from the living room, grinding my lips and slipping Chapstick from my pocket, the blue kind now, not black, so I don't smell Nebraska residue in my pocket, on my toothbrush.

Like I know what I'm supposed to be doing, anyway. Like any of us know what we're supposed to be doing. Half purple napkins, half black, stripping plastic bodies in the window and ordering a frappucino because it's on the commercials.

They're laughing now, talking about Zulus. I think that Chinese food has a trick, turns to pool balls in your stomach after an hour and gives you abs, trying to hold it in to look good in your artfully-torn jeans.

There's a stuffed astronaut sitting on a toy computer on top of the desk where I'm sitting. An oversized picture of my mother is perched over its face. It's wearing psychedelic color-changing fabric.
Mom, you are out of this world.

Aha, aha. Aha ha ha.

Lovely

2005-06-07T21:54:00.000-07:00

Inspired by the Watch-King, David of Dillards, I realized that love was made for you and me, so we should all have a share in it. I think everyone should make a love montage and we can hang a photo quilt on my wall next year.
Anyway, in keeping with David's theme, here I am with my new work clothes (products of the best shopping day of my life):

Cool shoes, eh?
P.S. You should all enlarge the photo so you can see my amazing letter artwork.
Love,
Amy

If Beauty is Pain, Fashion is Hell

2005-06-04T15:22:00.000-07:00

Picture this:
You're standing near the entrance of a high-fashion boutique in the mall, blinking out at the brilliantly white Saks Fifth Avenue across the tiled floor. A young woman walks in brandishing a tube-top/mini-sweater/nothing at all and says, "I'm graduating tomorrow/I'm meeting my boyfriend's dad/I'm a sixty-year-old trying to look twenty-five, and I need an outfit to match this. What should I wear?" Given said article of clothing (or lack thereof), very limited information about the upcoming event, and your first impression of the customer, it is now your responsibility to create an entire outfit (including jacket, shoes, handbag, and accessories) from the contents of this store. Oh, and by the way, you must ensure that the customer remembers your name all the way up to the cashier's desk, or you won't meet your quota.
Ready? Go.

Sounds a bit fun, right? A little hectic, maybe, but fun nonetheless...
Except that the you in this situation is actually me, at my new job, where I barely know the difference between houndstooth and a tunic, muchless the layout of the store and whether that dress runs small or large! And I think it's safe to say that I don't have a very firm grasp of Standard Fashion Etiquette...we can all attest to that...

But it is a bit fun. Once I got over the ideas that I wasn't that behind the trends, that cute clothes can be found for under $20, and that boutiques stock shoes big enough to fit my wide, sturdy feet, I did okay. Bruce discovered me--a great wet lump under the heavy afghan on the couch--after my embarrassing orientation, and listened to me blubber about how horrible it was being the tallest, most ogre-like girl in the store when I thought I was short, wearing out-of-date clothes and owning nothing I was supposed to sell, and longing for a Nerd Job at Barnes and Noble. He did a very good job. He had all the right reactions in all the right places: soothing, outraged, bolstering, and ultimately telling me it was okay to quit right after you're hired.

But, ha ha!, I bought two pairs of sequined shoes, paired them with a vintage skirt, and fought my way through my very first shift on the floor (yesterday). I have to admit, I had a really good time. I wasn't expecting people to ask for entire outfits, but I bought a fashion magazine on the way home (required homework from the manager) and am going shopping tomorrow...I think I'll make it.

I am glad it's only a summer job, though. There's no way I can afford to buy new clothes every month when the trends change.

One Completely Normal Post, made to order

2005-05-26T09:26:00.000-07:00

Dani and I were chatting the other night as we lay in bed, unable to sleep, and the topic of blogs and bloggery surfaced (it was Dani's first time to post in a very long time, as I'm sure you know if you keep up with these vanEttinger-type sites). Anywho, we decided that I only post when I'm bored or emotional, and I suppose that can make for some rather exhausting reading.

So, in an effort to not exhaust any readers who would happen to stumble across my site, Here is One Non-bored, Non-emotional, completely coherent, 11:30 in the morning post, for your enjoyment:

(Amy sits for a moment, wondering what to write about.)

So I finished a new book the other day--A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, by Dave Eggers--one of those award-winning, best-seller types that cost thirteen dollars and ended up not really having a point. Well, I suppose it had some sort of point...I don't think I read nearly as critically when I'm not required to discuss anything I read (hooray for summer!). But it was mostly like spending a couple months inside someone else's head, except it was someone from our generation, so all the thoughts were the same as everyone else's in our generation. You know, weird death-related thoughts, doubting yourself at every turn, the urgent need to have sex, and how to care for your eight-year-old brother now that your parents are both dead. Just the normal, everyday stuff...actually, the kind of stuff I see in people who are experiencing depression, especially the heightened self-consciousness. So, in a nutshell, this book is an interesting, but rather exhausting, several-hundred-page trip into the mind of a depressed twenty-something. What fun.

Now I'm working my way through the Harry Potter series for the third time, in great expectation of the new book coming out July 17th (Yip! yip!).

Before I close this completely normal post, I'd like to say that my cats are very strange. Young Toby has recently developed an obsession with the 747-sized cockroaches living in our garage, and has therefore been trying to open the door himself. It's quite amusing: He scratches his way up the door until he's standing on tip-toe (or the nearest cat equivalent...umm...paw-point) and then reaches his arms way up, stretching his back against the wood until he's a fuzzy white stripe on the wall, and then bats at the very bottom of the doorknob. It's kind of sad, really, when you think about it. He tries it several times, then meows pitiously and scratches at the bottom corner while we all sit and laugh at him.

Good story, eh? Wait 'til you hear about Suki!

From the Trenches, in a sense

2005-05-22T11:05:00.000-07:00

I'm ready for Heaven.
I mean, I don't particularly want to die anytime soon, but it sure would be great to have all the questions answered, or at least not matter anymore...
We started a new phase in the Great Hurst Church Hunt today (an epic, four-year adventure began by my mom and continued by her progeny), the new phase being marked by my searching for a summer church. Today's chapter: Life Fellowship. Mom says she should have guessed it from the dove in their icon, but we didn't realize until about half-way through the singing. This is a hardcore Pentecostal church. I've never been to a Pentecostal church before...

Really, I guess you could call it a two-hour-long Quaker service: the man with oil running down his nose quaking at the altar; the wheelchair-bound boy's arms quaking as he lowered himself to the ground to pray; and me, quaking in my little blue high-heels while the preacher roared around the room, lips quivering as he sprayed holy foam on the microphone cover. He has been healed himself, used to be carried into church and laid on the floor but now he's not lying, now he's wild and jumping on the benches and leaning on your shoulder while he preaches and red-faced passionate, bellowing so quickly that he might as well speaking in tongues.
And the couple who came to dedicate their baby and were given roses, a red for the man, who protects and creates his family through his strong red blood, a white for the woman, who is pure and holy and her baby's best friend, and a bunch of baby's breath for the baby, because he is innocent until such time as he should commit some sin-in-God's-sight, and then we hope he finds the purity that comes in Christ, just like this little flower.
But the strangest part of the whole morning for me was seeing Ms. Havisham, right there in the front pew, wearing her Pink Embroidered Formal and putting her hands together over her head like she was about to dive into the Holy Spirit...and mom leaning over to whisper that that was the one making out behind the church as we pulled into our visitor's parking spot.
And, gee, I don't know what to believe during school, when everyone sits quietly and talks about Descartes, and breaks the life-style covenant because it's stupid or it doesn't apply to me, and Jesus speaks to us through our text books...
In the middle of that service, at some point, I realized that even that beautiful simple Christianity of Children that I thought was the ideal is threaded with doctrine and denomination, and it comes out in whether I tell you to close your eyes and clasp your hands when you pray or look around with your hands out, in whether you're baptized at one or eleven or not at all, and in what your crayoned pictures of Heaven contain.
Oy! I understand why people give up, sometimes, on this whole business.

Not to mention I'm probably going to end up working at some clothing store at the mall... (Oh, woe is me!)

Italy, in a smooth and shiny nutshell covered with decorative macaroni

2005-01-24T23:45:00.000-08:00

So, I should definitely be in bed right now. I am totally exhausted. Really.
But I recieved an email from a certain Linda Wyman Person regarding a rather urgent interview for an Advocate article about Italy. (Woah. That was quite the sentence.) So anyway, I've been up for the past hour putting entirely too much thought into my e-response, and I thought I would post it
here
for you to read.
Because...well...I think it's slightly amusing. And, looking at it from a journalistic point of view, it's total crap and probably won't be used much (if at all) in the article.
So here it is.
Oh, and she asked three questions, which is why I seem to be responding to three invisible voices.

So, what am I looking forward to? Wow...I don't know. Rome seems like one of those places that I have this fairy-tale image of, so I don't even know what to expect when I get there. I'm really excited about actually experiencing all the things I've studied about--seeing the Colloseum and the Forum and all the artwork. But I think even more than that, I want to get to know Italy. I mean, how often in my life am I going to get to hang out in the seat of western civilization with a bunch of college kids and very little money? That just doesn't happen every day! I want to sit down and chat with waiters and street vendors and train conductors, to understand how they see the world. I feel like I've been reading commentary about Rome my whole life, and now I'm going to have a conversation with it. It's very exciting.
What first interested me in the trip: I want to live in Italy. I can't explain it; I'm drawn to the place. And studying it in class made me love it even more, because I have a deeper understanding of its history and culture. So when I found out about the trip, I immediately added it to my long list of Wishful Thoughts and Hair-braned Schemes. But I firmly believe that God gives us our desires for a reason, and through a series of really accurate and timely coincidences, I was made able to go. It's kind of bizarre, actually. I still can't believe I'm going.
And how will going to Italy help me? I fully plan to be so overwhelmed by exquisite architecture, art, and food, that my eyeballs ache in their sockets and I become an expert in everything. Ha! Just kidding. But really, I expect to come back with a more concrete grasp of why civilization is the way it is, a deeper understanding of the way societies relate to each other, and, if nothing else, an intimate relationship with some phenomenal pieces of art and literature.

Please forgive my ridiculous use of adjectives and adverbs--Did I mention I'm excited?
Hope this helps,
Amy

Oh, and in other way exciting news, did I mention, like, two months ago that one of my poems (specifically the one entitled "For Italy") is going to be published in an anthology-type-publication at some-point-in-the-near-future, assuming the offer I got was authentic and not some malicious attempt to steal my identity and my muse? Well, I should have. Cause, you know, it's true.

And, umm, I just reread my email and it's really not that funny. It's actually kind of stupid, and I'm a little embarassed that I sent it to said Linda Wyman Person. But I guess that's what she gets for conducting interviews with exhausted individuals at 2:00 in the morning when they should be in bed. Tut tut.

On being very uptight, and the delicious taste of Cheescake

2004-12-01T13:38:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about life, and God, and about my relationships with each of those things.
And...so far, I've discovered that...it's all pretty paradoxical.

When I was little, Dani and I had this unashamed obsession with bugs. We kept bug boxes and earthworm farms and supplied sand fleas with lots of nutritious flesh for their little tummies...
And one day in pre-school or Kindergarten, I found three roly-polies during recess, and wanted to take them home to show my family. Now, being the clever and environmentally-conscious four-year-old that I was, I decided the best solution was to keep the bugs closed up in my hand until the end of the day, when I would expose them to their new friends, namely, my mom and dad. So, I did... For the rest of the day, I did my work and carried on my conversations with my hand gripped tightly around my three prized roly-polies, ignoring cramps, and sweat, and the intense desire to use my right hand, until class finally ended, and we were released to our parents. Now, I don't remember what it is I did that day--whether I colored, or learned to spell the word "car", or ate graham crackers with my left hand--but I distinctly remember walking into the parking lot with my parent, and opening my hand to show them my treasure, and it not being there.
I couldn't understand it...At recess, I had put three roly-polies in my palm, and then I hadn't opened my hand all day, but now, all that was there were three little...orange spots.... The roly-polies were gone...
And I had a terrible, empty feeling of loss.

So now the weather is finally chilling, and there are piles of leaves all over campus, and I have this compulsion to make all my schoolwork perfect and A-worthy... And I feel like I've discovered this precious jewel of time, and I've crammed it into my hand and am gripping it so tightly that it could never possibly escape. Even though everything else I do, I do with one hand, it's okay, because I know I've got something precious hidden away in my little fist.
And I have this fear that one day, when I'm finally free and uncommited and bursting to share my treasure with someone, I'll open my hand and discover that it's gone...That the only thing left is a dim spot...

So tonight, I'm going to a Christmas party. And after dinner, maybe I'll climb a tree. And later, I'm going to clean my room and open the window, and do my homework because I love learning and I want to speak French, and not to keep my scholarship or to please my parents or to achieve anything. Simply because...roly-polies don't live forever.

And now...

2004-10-06T23:48:00.000-07:00

Hooray! A spoof of the most frightening thing ever!
All great things (like David) must be mocked...

Ah, yes, rust. Orgasmic.

2004-09-09T08:26:00.000-07:00

Today I bring you the most frightening thing ever.
That is all.

2004-08-13T20:59:00.000-07:00

I just found out that my roommate isn't coming back this year.
And I owe $2500 more than I expected to.

I don't really understand.

Declaration of Dependence

2004-08-11T14:04:00.000-07:00

I'm in a heedlessly happy mood today.
While in Times Square one day, Luke and I stopped in at Virgin Records to give in to our "I'm on vacation and I haven't had a new cd in a long time so I should get one now even though I shouldn't spend the money" urges. While wandering through the Christian music section (don't groan. it's not all bad.) I discovered a Matthew West cd watching me, waiting patiently to be purchased. Now, I had no idea who Matthew West was, but there was a clown on the cover, so I bought it anyway. It's called Happy. And I'm listening to it right now.

I've just discovered that my nostrils are crooked.

My sister comes home today. I'm excited. I love my sister.

I have decided and declared to the world at large that, this year, I am going to be myself.
I will no longer care if people disagree with me, think I am naive, silly, annoying, or immature, or don't understand me. I will not let cynicism or speculation destroy what I believe in, and if I am thought foolish or inappropriate, good for me!
I will dance in the quad, because I am a dancer. I will sing off key, because I love it. I will climb trees, hang out with little kids, play loud music, and hug a lot, just because I want to.
I will use prepositions at the end of my sentences if I want to, and I will show my Grammar teacher that I can handle his silly little Junior-level course.
I will get enough sleep, I will pray with my roommate, and I will let myself fall in love.
Think you can stop me?
Go ahead and try!
The joy of the Lord is my strength. Therefore, I will be joyful.

a Story, a Summary, and a Disco Astronaut

2004-08-09T21:34:00.000-07:00

Hello dear friends.

I have much to tell you, and no idea where to start.
Hmm...perhaps we may begin with an unrelated item of news and praise to God for His faithfulness.

Luke and I arrived home from NJ yesterday and stayed the night at Bruce's. Now, I always pray for Luke as he is driving away from me--that God would protect him and keep him safe from harm--but sometimes the prayers seem more fervent than normal. This morning, as Luke pulled out of our driveway in the newly rebuilt car he's driven for exactly one week, embarking on his fledgling journey from Bruce's house to Telephone, I prayed passionately. One sentence, the same four words I always say, but whispered fiercely with my knees drawn to my chest.

But I am boring. Let me get to the point. Luke was still in the thick of the metroplex, driving in the center of a six-lane highway, when his hood eluded its safety latch, flew up on it's hinges, and shattered his windshield. By God's grace Luke made it to the shoulder without an accident, but his hood was bent and wouldn't shut, and nobody was stopping to help.... Long story short, a pickup-driving Christian sporting long hair and holey jeans leant Luke a cell phone and some bungee cords, with the instructions to "pay it forward." He crawled the rest of the way home at 45 mph while tiny shards of glass rained down at every dip and pothole. He's safe and injury-free (excepting the little pieces of glass stuck in his skin), but his car will most likely require some pricey repairs before school.
Ugh...it makes me shudder to think about it.

In other news...
I've been compiling a list in my head of things I wanted to tell you, faithful reader, and, lo and behold, an opportunity presents itself. In accordance with the previous sentence, I bring you

Amy's Top 11 Summer Lessons

1. There are few things so delicious as welcome cleverness and strawberry kiwi sparkling water.
2. Fear is perhaps the most salient motivating factor in my life, triumphing even over passion, joyfulness, comfort, honesty, and often, God's will.
3. Sometimes I feel like a whitewashed tomb, or a cup washed by a Pharisee.
defiled, disgusting, impure, and undeserving.
4. I am worth much more than I think I am.
5. Scripture is power, nourishment, a face life, an attitude adjustment, a slap in the face, and a warm place to sleep.
6. Texas makes breathing easier.
7. I am not a disappointment.
8. The point of having money is to spend it.
9. I have my dad's eyes, my mom's body, and an unfortunate blend of their senses of humor.
10. People who expect life to be orderly are fools. Being imperfect, and loving imperfect people, is a messy business.
11. I will become even more undignified than this.

2004-07-25T09:25:00.000-07:00

Well, goodbye all. Have a pleasant few weeks.

An Appeasement

2004-07-23T21:46:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: This post was written early in the morning after being locked up in Bruce's house all week. The views and opinions expressed in this post, while accurate, are not necessarily comprehensible. By reading this post, you, the reader, agree that Amy, the writer, will not be held responsible for any misunderstandings, miscommunications, confusions, etc., that may occur.

First, I must apologize to all of my anxious readers (especially you, Cade).
My attentions were, in fact, captured and held mercilessly captive by my, as you so aptly call him, "silly boy toy." But only for one week. Then the SBT left for South Dakota on a mission trip with my grandpa (how fair is that?) and I returned to Hurst to celebrate the arrival of my favorite biological sibling.

Now you might be wondering what I've been doing for the past week that has kept me from posting, and I have two excuses ready for you: One, that every time I got on the internet, I was attacked by Vicious Scholarship Guilt and couldn't allow myself to "waste time" blogging; and Two, that I really didn't have anything interesting to say.

That was quite a long sentence, eh?

Anyway, I got on the computer tonight to write my four scholarship essays that I must have done by Sunday noon, but I'm feeling talkative, and a bit lonely, so I thought, "What they hey! (I don't know that I actually thought this phrase, but it seems to fit here, does it not?) I'll post on my blog!"

So here I am.

---for lack of an appropriate introduction (and because I hate writing introductions), I'm simply going to make a bar across the page, so you'll know the subject is about to change drastically---

My family is haunting me.
I don't really know what's going on with me.... I think all the negative emotions I ignored/suppressed while I was at camp have welled up inside me and are trying to escape.
I don't know that any of you have ever experienced me when I'm very hyper and very bored, but I have these explosive little outbursts where I jump around and yell/sing/dance/make faces. And now, I feel the same way a lot, but instead of funny happy feelings, I get angry. I want to stand up and scream at people and blame all of life's problems on them, and beat them about the face with throw pillows. And I don't really know why.

Luke and I went shopping last week, and we got lost in Plano on the way, and normally I love getting lost, but...for some reason I just burst out crying and curled up in a ball and started babbling about my family, and we had to go get a smoothie to make me manageable again.

I feel like I'm just kind of...stumbling back and forth between all these different places, and none of them really feel like home. And I have this weird tension like every thing I do is to make someone else happy, and I'm not that kind of person, am I?

incidentally, my fashion has changed a bit. I think I've grown up a little... I'm not so afraid of wearing spaghetti strap or low-cut shirts, and I bought some neck scarves and a floppy straw hat... If you think I was strange before...Ha! You just wait.

That's another thing that's been brought to my attention lately...again. Am I really that different? Cause I don't feel like I'm that weird, but apparently I am.
Not that I really mind.
It's just a good thing to know, don't you think?

I think perhaps I just have too much free time. I think that sitting around watching trash on television and reading books like Narnia and Crime and Punishment and feeling guilty about what I'm not doing isn't really the best thing for my feeble, hypochondraical mind. (I just made up that word. Isn't it a good, pleasing word? Say it. See how it fills your mouth and stretches every part of it, and then sits poised on the end of your tongue, waiting to dive off into your sentence? Lovely. Just lovely.)

Anyway, I'm leaving for New Jersey on Sunday, which I guess is Tomorrow. I can't say that it snuck up on me. It's more that it crept straight at me for a very long time, staring me right in the face so that I couldn't avoid seeing it, but it was covered in a veil, or better yet, a shroud, so I had no idea what it was actually going to look like. Yeah, something like that. Heh. And I must say, I'm experiencing a lot of emotions about this coming trip to my dad's, most of them negative, and once again, I'm not sure why.

Oy. I should stop complaining, or spilling, or whatever it is I'm doing. I should go write a scholarship essay.

A Short Outburst

2004-07-09T21:14:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow, I get to see my boyfriend.

Can I please just express the joy and anticipation that are mine? And to think, after one more seemingly minor seperation of only 8 days, he'll be going to my school...living in the same state as me...in the same square mile, no less!

Ah, what fascinating and emotion-riddled circumstances we sometimes find ourselves in....

Haha! Boredome Stirkes Again! (and unintentionally mispells a great many words)

2004-07-09T13:51:00.000-07:00

Ah, hello!

And how is your summer going?
Mine is swimming along splendidly, despite the fact that I am not actually swimming at this time, and that I'm not sure whether summers can, in fact, swim.

Things which might be of interest to you (or might be of no interest at all) are as follows:

1. I am finished with camp, and have been for...six days now. I've spent the aforementioned days in Hurst, TX, enjoying traditional summer activities such as TV watching, book reading, and the gaining back of all weight I might have lost/the softening of all muscle I might have gained during my time at Sports Camp.

2. I went to the library yesterday. It's a marvelous place, don't you think? Really, how often does one have the opportunity to surround oneself with hundreds, nay, thousands of pieces of literature in book format and on cassette, and then take those books home for at least two weeks completely free of charge? No really. How often?

3. I've blazed/torn/less destructive word meaning "moved quickly" through the Chronicles of Narnia, and had just arrived at the title page for The Silver Chair when I detoured to my current library-book-fling, Lemony Snicket: The Unauthorized Autobiography. Having never read any of Mr. Snicket's other books, I have absolutely no idea what is going on, but am entertained nonetheless.

4. I'm a little bored.

5. I've discovered that Target actually has some pleasing artwork for the purchasing, and if I had had thirty dollars I was itching to spend, I would now be the proud owner of a framed pianist and jazz singer. Alas, my morals interfered and I decided that those poor framed people were worth much more than thirty dollars, so I bought a decoupage clown instead. Everyone knows clowns are worthless.

6. My most bizarre forms of humor have been liberated from the depths of my soul and allowed to frolic freely up the dark and perilous path to my mouth. A great many have emerged dusty and slightly mangled from their long and hard-fought quest for freedom, but generally speaking the forms are all very pleased to feel useful once again.

Emotional Update

2004-06-24T12:07:00.000-07:00

I'm homesick.
But I don't want to leave.
Torn. That's what I am. Torn.
We only have like ten more days. I'm sad.

Conglomeration (just cause I like that word)

2004-06-15T09:50:00.000-07:00

Hello all.
Well, new week, new campers. And I'm ready for lunch.

I've got ten-year-olds this time, and man, are they cute. I think next week I'll take seven-year-old boys. Sounds good, eh?

I just forgot what I was going to say. Curses.

RAR!

So I did some of the ropes course yesterday. It was terrifying, but I'm so proud of myself and thankful that God writes his words on our hearts...There was a moment when I'd climbed up a thirty foot pole and was trying to stand up on it, knowing I'd have to jump off, when the only thing that kept me going was, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (thanks, Grandpa).
Have you noticed the change in my grammar? Ha!

Oooh, one of the leadership guys working here is intelligent and uses big words and makes the camp videos and the like! Yippee for intelligent conversation (maybe at some point in the future when we have...free time...and no kids...ha.).

Umm, so I almost caused a wreck the other day. I was standing out on the road in a sarape, a rain coat, a yellow afro, and a leopard-print cap, oh, and green socks, with a boy dressed similarly, and one of the cars slowed down a little too much...went in the wrong lane...a truck swerved off the road, almost hit a stop sign...it was exciting.

Well, poo (it's tempting to say a bad word like c**p cause I know I can on here). I still don't remember what I was going to say.
But I have to go.
It's time for FUAGNEM (fired up and going nuts every minute).

Have a nice week!
Am

Job 37

2004-06-08T12:51:00.000-07:00

Hello Friends!
I heard that most of you have stopped posting, at least for a while, and I must admit I'm kind of glad... I was feeling a little out of the loop (and tempted to skip the rest of the afternoon to read your blogs).
Last week was amazing. Thanks for your prayers--three of our girls accepted Christ (two in my BB) and two rededicated. They had tons of questions, and I think I encouraged their curiosity a little too much...I'll probably get angry letters from their parents.
This week, the whole camp seems older. I have 11, 12, and 13 year-olds, and they are so challenging. I have to constantly keep myself in check because they try my patience so much. I'm learning to love them, though, so I think it'll be a good week.

So here's an exciting piece of random news...
My co-coach Valerie went to high school with all of my friends from San Antonio. I looked through her yearbook the other day and saw them all...it was weird.

I'm sorry that I don't have anything humorous or very interesting to say. Maybe when I catch up on my sleep, and my sickness goes away, and I'm no longer "Mom for a Week" or "Jesus in Tennis Shoes," maybe then I'll have something for you.

Until then, please pray for me, and I will pray for you as you travel/work/study/sit around.
Drenched but Flexible,
Amy

Message in a Bottle

2004-06-01T08:28:00.000-07:00

Surprise!
Internet Access!
The camp directors set up a computer in a back room for us to use during our time off, and seeing as how I have time off today...
So...camp is great. Hot. Tiring. But great. It doesn't give me any opportunities to sit around and ponder the state of the world or my own life--it's a nice break. Teaching Gym/Cheer/Dance is really hard (Laugh all you want to! We cram more into seven days than all of the other sports here! And golf shouldn't even count as a sport!).

Since I know you're all dying to see what camp is like, I bring you The Great T Bar M Summer Camp Journal, complete with sound bites and pictures. Enjoy muchly.

I'm in a cabin called Cut-N-Shoot with two other coaches and eleven 8- and 9-year-old girls. They're really funny...everything is so extreme to them. "We don't get to go to the Blob Pool til 3:00? I'm going to die!!"

Yesterday in my Batter's Box (small group Bible Study with the girls), one of them asked me what the Old Testament is about. Heh...so...I told 'em about the Israelites (they wanted to know why some people hate Jews now, and what the difference is between us and them), and about sacrifices (they wanted to know why sacrifice was necessary...), and then about how Jesus fulfilled all of that ("So if Jesus hadn't died, we'd still have to kill sheep?"), and it was amazing. You should all say a prayer for my three BB girls.

Well, I'm gonna go. I'm not supposed to take a long time on this, and I'd kind of like to rummage around in your blogs...

Have a pleasant day!
And keep checking my blog if you're interested in hearing about camp stuff at all. I'm not sure when I'll be posting.

I'll never let go, Blog. I'll never let go.

2004-05-19T16:31:00.000-07:00

Well, this is the end.
The last post. The final goodbye. The ultimate entry.
Until July.
Unless I get on later tonight and post again.
Or next weekend, when I'm home for 12 hours.

I'm pleased to announce that I found a cowboy hat and boots in the most unlikely place (Luke's stepdad's closet), and while neither fit me, at least they exist.
I spent the morning/early afternoon packing entirely too much stuff, and I am thoroughly exhausted.

It still doesn't seem real to me that tomorrow I'll be by San Antonio teaching camp. Maybe it's one of those things that doesn't seem real until it's over. Let's hope so.

Well, I'm sorry this is such a boring and pointless post. Perhaps after dinner I'll be running a little more smoothly and be able to write something more interesting. But right now my cousin wants the computer, so I shall submit.

Have a nice summer!
Amy

Pillow Talk

2004-05-18T00:00:00.000-07:00

Right, right.
That too.

It has occurred to me that I might just be exposing too much of my strangeness in this here blog. I think I did a pretty good job containing it through most of the year (read: I had no outlet for it beyond mid-afternoon study breaks with Jessa, and not many of you were present for those), but now, with all this free time and unlimited cyberspace, not to mention the almost guaranteed audience, I find myself passionately confident in my own weirdness. Perhaps this is a bad thing, but I do not think it will cease.

My cousins have arrived. I am very tired, but addicted to you, and once committed...

Today I bought most of my pirate costume. It's truly amazing to me the things one can find in a room full of other people's castoffs. I even discovered some dirty jokes buried in a pile of hangers by the dressing room (One should always wash one's hands after leaving Goodwill.). Alas, the search for Amy-sized cowboy boots and a non-ridiculous cowboy hat has not been fruitful, but if anyone is looking for a purple, polka-dotted crop top, I know of a particularly vibrant one that needs a good home.

Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment. Today, I guess, by this time. I must have a physical. What an interesting phrase: "to have a physical." Passive, or possessive. hmm.

Ah, yes, I believe it's time for everybody's favorite segment:
In other news,
I'm sure you'll all be overjoyed to see that certain inactive members of my links list (most notably Mikal and Jessa) have now become full-fledged bloggers, and that the one with whom I share much DNA has also been added to the esteemed list.

Wow. I think I'm exhausting.
I don't blame you.
Leave.

Oh, wait, don't leave yet. I have something really valuable to say.
Read My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok. It's good stuff.
Okay.
Now leave.

Lunch or Something Like It

2004-05-16T19:30:00.000-07:00

Happy Sunday, all.
Today I bring you a gift, and good tidings of great joy that shall be for all people.

The gift:
Readerville.com, a site proprieted by Karen Templer, Luke's aunt, and peopled by intelligent bookworms like yourself, who's main goal in life is to read fine literature and then make fun of other people's interpretations of it.

The good tidings:
Today is Sunday. Tomorrow I drive down to Fort Worth with my sister to collect my cousins from the airport (and to do a little shopping at the big thrift stores). On Wednesday evening, we journey back to FW, spend a lovely night with my stepdad, and Thursday morning marks the beginning of my camp experience. Do you know what that means for you, dear friend? No more daily posting from Amy. No more silly jokes, no more rambling updates, no more third person. I'll probably squeeze in one post when I dart back home for graduation, but who knows whether or not I will have internet access at camp? Not I, Not I.

It is on this sad note that I leave you, at least for tonight.
Adieu, auf Wiedersehen, Syonara, وَدَاع, Goodbye.

Night Wind and that whore Helen

2004-05-15T08:17:00.000-07:00

Well, I made it through five stanzas and was quite proud of myself, but then I realized that the poem wasn't very good and probably not worth finishing.
So...umm..if you have any recommendations for stanza six or even the envoy, you should let me know. I probably won't work on it again until I get very bored (so we'll say this afternoon).

Today is a day for making my own decisions.
Luke is watching/umpiring baseball games all day and will not be available for entertainment purposes until at least 6:30 this evening.
I think I shall take a trip into town and peruse Wal-Mart and Goodwill for fun things like cowboy boots, eye-patches, and a "parrot" for my shoulder (I think I'll get a rubber chicken. Kids like that sort of thing.).

So, I've been making a mental list (in my head) of the things I've noticed over the past week (since coming home), and I am now going to share it with you (whether you like it or not):
1. Somebody on the way to town bought longhorn cattle. We don't get much of that around here. It was probably some rich guy from Dallas who moved out here to become a rancher. (I would like everyone to know that, even as I insulted the city slickers, I spelled bought, "baught"; some, "sum"; and spelled, "spelt". Isn't that sad? See what Telephone does to your mind??)
2. My family doesn't order me around anymore. They don't ask where I'm going, although I usually tell them anyway, or what time I'll be back. Grandma even thanked me yesterday for letting her know where I was going. It's like...I'm an adult, living in my parent's/grandparents' house without paying rent or doing chores beyond what I volunteer to do. It's weird.
3. My best friend from high school is no longer my best friend. Jordan and Luke and I went to the movies last night (Jo has finally rebelled enough to stay out til 1 without mom's expressed permission), and she's very different from me. We've always been different, but now we're really different. She has a pink plastic purse and a $50 coin purse, and she listens to Usher and checks out boys all the time.... I keep a $5 wallet in my back pocket and listen to Cake and Bob Dylan, and while Jo and I did have a good time whispering about the boys in the movie (short leather skirts, long dirty hair...as Luke put it, lots of "manflesh"), I kind of felt like I was the mentor college girl hanging out with my little buddy...except buddy has senioritis.
We had a nice talk on the way home about Predestination, though. Heh.
4. Theme songs are stupid. I discovered this on my own the other day while watching A Wedding Story, but it's been cemented in my mind by Brian's fun little post. (D-d-d-danger out to find you...)
5. Movie Gallery is selling all of their old movies!!!! They're getting rid of every movie released before 1980, and even some after that! Luke and I were aghast (aghast!) when we asked if they had Philadelphia Story and they laughed! We spent almost an hour looking through all the movies for sale, and found such classics as Fame, Big, Fried Green Tomatoes, and Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure! What, I ask you, is wrong with this picture??
6. I don't love baseball as much as Luke does.

Alright, so that's not the whole list, but it's good enough. Long enough, anyway, to sufficiently bore your jobless summer brain.
Have a nice afternoon!
Oh, one more:
7. "Aghast" is not in the Blogger dictionary, and the suggested spelling of "Ted's" is "teats".

A Note to Faithful Readers

2004-05-14T09:04:00.000-07:00

Today, I was going to tell you a story.
Then I decided to make it a sestina.
I'm not quite sure what I was thinking, except maybe that I have lots of free time, that it's not yet noon, and that this story is too good for prose.
I apologize for not having anything interesting to say, but I leave you in hopeful expectation for good things to come. Except I don't promise they'll be good.

Rar...stupid last stanza...causing all sorts of problems...like...writer's block.

The Last Batter...ai

2004-05-12T22:59:00.000-07:00

Tonight, Luke and I said goodbye to the world of high school baseball. It ended gracefully, and we commemorated it well. As Luke said, "It was a good death."

Stolen Kisses

2004-05-12T11:16:00.000-07:00

High school life makes morality come into sharp focus. Everything I do here is evaluated on how people will respond to it, what other people might think, or what I, as a responsible adult, should do.
It doesn't suit me.

I went to my old high school today to have an Italian lunch with Luke's food science class. Afterwards, I visited my old UIL coach and some friends in her class, until I was called in to see the Principal and reprimanded for wandering the halls and not checking in at the office. It's funny how he made me feel guilty for visiting my friends, and let me know that while lunch is a good excuse (since I was invited), pure visiting is not. He escorted me back down to say goodbye, reminded me how much he likes me, and walked me back to the end of the hallway.

Is it wrong of me to roll down the windows and drive fast in my grandparents' old Gran Torino, just because it's fun and because I want people to see me and say, "There's ol' Bill and Alta's granddaughter. She never did fit here."? Is it bad that I turn off the headlights before I pull into our yard because I don't want to be scolded for keeping Luke up til one on a school night? Does it make me rebellious or simply childish that I buy big, thick bars of chocolate that I don't really want, just because everything in my house is Fat-Free/No Sugar Added?

I know I'm supposed to be grown-up and responsible, and I totally see what they're trying to teach me.... So why do I keep resisting?

Update from an Idle Mind

2004-05-11T17:49:00.000-07:00

Well, whatdya know. The game was called on account of rain. Lightening, really, because baseball players don't mind a little rain. They do, however, mind death, usually. So I got to spend three hours with Luke's family eating enchiladas and some really good cake, and trying to find the place where my humor meets theirs, while Luke practiced for a game that was not to be.
At least, not until tomorrow at 5.
I think I'll actually go read a book now.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program...

2004-05-11T11:05:00.000-07:00

Muahahaha. Muahahahaha! Ha! Haha! Buuaaahahahaha!

I don't think the weather can make up its mind. My plan is unfolding nicely. Texas is so bizarre; one minute it's raining, and the next minute the sun is too bright and the cold rain is steaming off the vehicles in my yard. Soon I will have the whole state confused! Man, am I confused. I don't even know whether I should wear shorts or a sweater! Haha! I have succeeded in terrorizing an entire small independent nation at the southern end of the United States with only my mind powers and my High-Tech Really Confusing Weather-Maker Machine, which I like to call my HTRCWMM, or Hetrocwam! Muahaha! Silly little fools.

In other news,
It gives me great pleasure to announce the results of the Texas State UIL Academics Competition: For Headline Writing, coming in at fifth place, Mr. Luke Templer! In the Computer Science division, once again coming in at fifth, Luke Templer!! Luke is surrounded by his teammates in places four and six, and...what's this, what's this? First place team!! Oh, can you believe it, My Boyfriend is on the best Computer Science team in the state! Haha. With my brain and his...brain, we could take over!

Alright, I'm done playing. For now.
Luke's baseball team co-won district, and their first playoff game is today. I'm going to pick up his little sister and take her to their grandparents' house for dinner with Luke's family, without Luke. It should be interesting...

My dog is chasing gnats around. Haha...he just caught one. Yes! My new Animal Stupidity System is up and running! Luke's baseball bat, together with my HTRCWMM and my ASS, could make us the rulers of the free world before week's end!

oh my gosh...i need something constructive to do with my time.

Ah! A visitor!

2004-05-10T11:40:00.000-07:00

Hello! Welcome to my spacious and color-coordinated internet home, newly refurbished for your convenience. Notice the links to your right, there, and the comments feature at the bottom of this message.
Can I get you some coffee? Perhaps some mixed nuts?

Lamentations

2004-05-08T13:13:00.000-07:00

Ah yes, I remember this sitting around, watching TV, and eating all afternoon. This having nothing important to do. This hanging out with my grandparents because everyone else is out of town.
I think they call it summer.

I'd like to go swimming.
Maybe I'll read a book and wander about my house.
Dani, it's pretty boring without you. Wanna go to WalMart?

Friends are Friends Forever

2004-05-07T21:51:00.000-07:00

Well.
Here I am, back in Texas.
Surprisingly enough, coming home for weekends or even for spring break is completely different than coming home for the summer. At Easter, I thought it was all very charming and relaxing, getting to walk barefoot in my yard and chase my dog and laugh at my grandparents who just keep getting weirder. But now I think I understand why Dani made those painful frustrated noises so often last summer...

My grandma had to go rummage through Grandpa's pockets for keys (and I had to flip through two sets and a drawer full of them), just so I could come get on the computer. (For those of you who don't know, our computer lives in the shed. Half of the shed is the "office" or what we like to call "Grandpa's House", and the other half is a storage room for dog food, Grandpa's hidden sodas, and spare insects.) To my great pleasure, I discovered that Grandpa has invested in an enormous silver and black monitor and made all the text HUGE because he can't see very well. I don't want to change it because he'll think something's wrong with the computer, but it kind of messes with my head...

Anyway,
I don't want to sound totally negative. I mean, I'm really happy to see my grandparents and Bruce (my stepdad), and Mom and I had a good time today, but I'm glad I won't be here all summer. I think I would explode.

In other news, we've decided to hold off on going to see the doctor. I mean, I have to go get a physical for camp, but we're not going to ask about meds.
I'm not bad enough to forfeit my genius.

woah...the computer just started to defrag all on its own...neat.

So I know this post is already too long and boring, but I'm still going to tell you about something only mildly interesting that happened today! You can skip this if you want, but then I'll have to kill you.
Ah, nevermind.
Let's just say it involves four sandwiches, loud rock music, a middle-aged woman, an unsightly birthmark, a man with a staring problem, and a monster truck. And me doing my best twelve-year-old voice.

On that note, I'm going to bed. Or at least to my room, which is soon to be not-my-room. Tomorrow, I shall open the van doors and let my life spill out of them, and then go to Wal-Mart to make a copy of the office key.

Goodnight.

PS- Though it's hard to let you go, in the Father's hands we know that a lifetime's not too long to live as friends.

I'm On My Way (from Misery to Happiness today...ahuh ahuh ahuh ahuh)

2004-05-07T07:30:00.000-07:00

Hello. My name is Amy, and I am done.
Done with exams.
Freshman year? Done.
Sleeping on Up New? Done!
Getting up for an 8:00 class? Praise God, that's done, too.

I think I shall celebrate by taking a shower and packing up the rest of my stuff.

(On a parenthetical note, I would just like to say what a pleasure it's been getting to know you all. I'm looking forward to next semester when we'll have classes together (some of us, anyway). I really am going to miss you, even if I'm not that sad about leaving, and I think you should all send me letters, cards, and ponies over the summer to keep our friendships alive. Yeah, that sounds good to me.)

(But you don't really care for music, do ya?)

(I just realized as I was sitting here, staring out the window, how different it really is going to be next year when Luke's here. Gee...)

(It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah...)

Anyway, I need to go.
Have a fabulous summer.

This post is done.

Pretty Pink Ribbon

2004-05-06T11:59:00.000-07:00

Once again, I should be packing right now.
It's funny...I don't really feel sad about leaving. It is kind of sad that I'm leaving just as I'm finally making friends, but I'm really excited about my summer. It should be a great adventure. As for my friends, everyone will be back in three months tan and full of summertime anyway, and I know it'll be good to get a break from Mayfield and the constant mess and activity (Ha! I'm sure camp and New York will be so much better!).

I looked up my books for next fall today. Seven textbooks and a set of CD's, and if I get them all used it'll only set me back $388.50! That's pretty much half of what I'll make this summer.
But I'm not worried.

I got my Discipleship and Evangelism final back today. It was an abrupt reminder of my ignorance, especially in Theology.... It's really strange to me that there're all these things I don't even know about--that I don't realize matter at all--and my Christianity is already way too deep for me to comprehend. Apparently there are big things I need to know if I'm going to be a good discipler and not just confuse people, but I don't know what they are or where I'm supposed to learn them.

I indulged myself and packed away my books this morning. It was lovely: books satisfy me. I love the way they feel, the way they smell, the sound the pages make when you flip through them...they make me think of deep armchairs and good drinks and fireplaces and the ocean and big windows...and magical forests with pixies and vampires.
But now that that's over, I have no motivation to pack anything else, like clothes (*scoff*).
Alas, I must, and so I shall.

PS- If any of you are going to be in the Austin/San Antonio area on a Saturday night in June, you should call me. We could hang out, and talk about the state of the world over chocolate milk and pizza.

2004-05-05T19:47:00.000-07:00

Oh, by the way, happy Cinco de Mayo. If we were in Mexico, we'd be dancing.

Giving Up

2004-05-05T19:40:00.000-07:00

I'm supposed to be packing.
I decided that tonight was the perfect night for packing, and pulled out all of my stuff so I could begin...
Then I got a series of phone calls (from my friend Mikal, my mom, Luke...my old self...) and found a huge stash of pictures from high school that's been living under Jessa's bed all year, and here I find myself, sitting at the computer, longing for something to do that doesn't involve packing away my life.
Any takers?

PS- I'm tired of searching for book and song titles that fit my posts. I'm giving up. I know you're very sad (because you totally realized I was doing that).

Hole in my Head (I'm stretching on this one...)

2004-05-04T15:15:00.000-07:00

It has occured to me that I am a post junkie (I don't know how to spell this word, so I've decided to alternate spellings throughout my post).
I think I'm a post junkie in the way I was an AIM junky, but I've slaughtered AIM on this computer and have not yet found a way to revive it...so perhaps posting has simply filled a void in my life--that large, dark, empty space that echoes coldly when I click my little icon and the message pops up, "AIM service cannot be reached."
So, to make myself feel better and like I actually have a social life, I sit in my room on someone else's computer and write dull things on the internet.
Hm.
A man just walked past my door.

Is it Thursday night? Is it the weekend? Is it Tuesday morning?
No!
And it's even FINALS WEEK!!! We're in the middle of perma-quiet hours with absolutely no distractions and there's a man walking down my hallway!

Anyway,
It's sad to me that I spent all afternoon in the quad "doing homework," and I thought that the best use of the half-hour I had before dinner would be to write a pointless post about posting.
Oy.

I think I got sunburned again (I never know whether it's sunburned or sunburnt...or whether that's even a word...I'd like to point out how attrocious my spelling and grammar are tonight. I think it's because of the sunburn).

Boy.
I'm going to dinner.

And, umm, I want you all to know that a smilax is an ornamental plant related to the asparagus.

As Long as You Love Me

2004-05-03T17:32:00.000-07:00

So I don't know whether it's pathetic or not that I make it a point to post every day. Maybe it's just a reflection of my lazy, uneventful life.

Got a few more pages done on the ol' book o'dreams, and man, am I excited.
Apparently Luke appreciates my dreams, because tonight I received this amazing link from him (look, I'm actually posting a link on my blog!!) as a Finals Week Present.
Enjoy.

In other news,
Matt is amazing, and I give him props (when did I start giving props?) for being brave and learning his lesson while sitting out in the quad all afternoon thinking about his reticence.
My mom read my blog today, and told me she was going to comment but was afraid her sarcasm wouldn't come across well. Is that not the most amazing thing ever? I told her that I love her and she should definitely comment anyway, because sarcasm is food for my soul.

Ha, bet you thought I was serious there, when I said "sarcasm is food for my soul." I wasn't; I was just kidding!

Umm...right, I was telling news.
So my mom got a new job (YIP!) in Fort Worth and it doesn't start 'til June, which means she can drive me back and forth between Telephone and camp this summer and I don't have to die!! Let's hear it for not-death!
Oh! And I fixed the computer today! Me!!
(I'm using lots of exclamation points tonight. I think I need to calm down.)

So it's 8:18 PM, and as you can see, I have nothing to do tonight. A little bored, I am. I mean, there's that whole English II Exam tomorrow, but after Econ, what's a silly English exam, you know?
Plus Jessa and I are getting up at five to go running naked, so I think I'll be nice and refreshed for some early-morning study time.
And I just had this mental image of my mom reading this tomorrow and going "*scoff* Amy...!" That's alright Mom. I've heard your college stories... (just kidding!)

Wow, well, on that note, I'm going to go...umm...wander around campus, or something.
And, uhh...you should reply...and...give me some ideas of what to write about tomorrow.

PS (which stands for PostScript)--I just think you all should know that my heel potato, after singing Tool until I became too depressed to move, hummed the Blue Danube for most of the evening. To my joy, it just recently switched to a lovely ballad by a certain boy band which shall remain nameless, but who's song occupies the Number Three Spot on The Exhaustive List of Worst Song Lyrics Ever (as compiled by my sister the expert and me).
Now aren't you glad I told you that? Isn't your life richer?

But in all seriousness...
My RA's dog ran over tonight and randomly sat on my knee, leaving behind a foul-smelling green smear. I'm still wearing it if you'd like to experience its joys.

Really. That's the end.

let's call the whole thing off

2004-05-02T11:12:00.000-07:00

Hello faithful readers.
Today I was going to bring you the story I wrote for Dani yesterday, but unfortunately I have no idea how to do that without putting it on a website, and while I know JBU provides webspace for us, I don't know how to get there (much less how to do anything once I'm there).
I'm thinking maybe I could email the story out with a background of kittens and a Michael W. Smith song playing on the great internet synthesizer, and it would be a lot more effective anyway.

Last night, in a burst of creativity and boredom, I started pasting pictures and words and the like into a little book I got at the women's retreat. I only finished the cover and two pages, but I've christened it "Visions: a book of big daydreams", halfway because those were the words I had available, and the other half because I'm filling it with neat pictures, quotes, words I love, ticket stubs, and card fragments from my year, and it just seemed appropriate.
But it, among other things, has me thinking about...why we turn out the way we do--you know, that old question about how much of who we are is environmental and how much is hereditary.
And I have a question.

How do we know that the things we call diseases are actually bad?
I mean...people with autism and down syndrome are deficient in certain areas of life, but generally they seem to have extraordinary abilities in other areas. I don't really know much about it, so if I'm wrong, please correct me, but I've heard that people with down syndrome are some of the most loving, unselfish people, and that certain kinds of autism yield amazing math or memorization skills...so...what if God makes people "diseased" to make them extraordinary?
I mean...I don't know...I know my logic sounds a little skewed...
People who are super-intelligent tend to have poor social skills, but we don't try to medicate them or "fix" them, at least not to the extent we try to fix other conditions that make people inept in some way. What if God cursed us with mental illness to give us something better?
It just seems to me that we're cranking out nothing but crap art and music and dance because nobody's depressed anymore...nobody's schizophrenic or obsessive compulsive...we're just manufacturing this homogeneous, boring world, and the more we "cure", the more we lose.

To quote the song playing right now, which fits in that I-will-make-you-fit-what-I'm-discussing way, "You say oyster, and I say erster--I'm not gonna stop eatin' ersters just 'cause you say oyster!"

But I'm tired of this train of thought, and my head is beginning to complain for being misused.
You should tell me your thoughts on this. If an individual is suffering from something that makes them genius, is it better to fix it or encourage it? Is society better off completely normal, balanced, and stable, or is it worth it to sacrifice people to their misery if it produces something amazing?

To close, I'd just like to say that you say pajamas, and I say pajamas. Sugar, what's the problem?

2004-05-01T10:54:00.000-07:00

By the way, happy May Day. If we were in Hawaii, we'd be dancing.

Strawberry Fields Forever

2004-05-01T10:36:00.000-07:00

So I really did bring you comments this time...I hope.
David told me the other day that blogs are for posting interesting websites and the like, while livejournals are for..well...journaling.
So I feel a little like I should be giving you all fascinating things to look at, but...not enough to make me do it.
In fact, I don't even have anything fascinating to say.

Today it's raining, and I'm feeling very empty. Quiet, I suppose you could call it, or mellow. But I think it's more empty.
Jessa's listening to country music, and a sad, whining voice is singing about love while Jessa pulls her pictures off the closet doors. (Alright, time for headphones.)
It's so weird to think that this year is almost over...that nine months ago I was terrified of leaving Luke for so long, and crying because I felt like the only kid who's parents didn't stay to take them out for dinner and I didn't have a fork to eat my sai men...so weird. I still feel a bit like I'm wandering down the hallways blinking back tears and calling, "Does anyone have a fork I can borrow?"

War of the Worlds

2004-04-30T11:52:00.000-07:00

Today I bring you (all one of you interested readers) a new feature: Comments!
Let's hear it for Brian who provides wonderful things for me to rip from him, like SquawkBox. *cheers*
And as if that wasn't exciting enough, I kind of understand this whole html template thing now.

So lately I've been trying to figure out how to blend these two seemingly opposed sides of myself... Actually, come to think of it, there are like...eight opposing sides of myself. Hm. Maybe I should become a schizophrenic.
Anywho, I think that CheerleaderAmy has made a valiant effort to survive through lazy afternoon N*Sync dance parties with my lovely roommate, but apparently it's shocking to almost everyone else I know that I spent six years of my life doing this. And now a new fear has arisen: that I'll spend half my summer with excited sports-type people teaching young children to be just like the girls in that picture, and the intelligent, if somewhat cynical and rude, part of myself will either rebel and frighten away my first-graders or I'll discover it sometime next year, emaciated and bitter, hiding in a corner of my mind muttering curses.

Of course, I'm also teaching dance, and that at least is some connection between Esperanza and Veda.
(If you don't understand that reference, which I assume most of you don't, then...umm...read a book about mythological creatures, written by..umm...me. It'll all make more sense then.)

Well, I think this post has gone on long enough, don't you?
I leave you with this, most frightening of all things, and a sad caricature of my life.

Hello.

2004-04-29T21:08:00.000-07:00

Wow, so...this is the most amazing thing ever.
Why, you ask?
Let me tell you.
Reason Number One: Blogs are ridiculous. I have never wanted a blog.
Reason Number Two: For some reason, this is very exciting.
and other reasons...
but I'm tired of that list now, and I shall move on to other things.
I'm doing this in the hope that I'll have internet access at camp, and knowing that I'll only be able to use AIM for something like three weeks the entire summer, so I thought it'd be good to have a simple way of communicating with my vast fan base. And because Jessa promised me she would read it.
I also think my mom will really enjoy it, because how exciting would it be to just load a web page and be instantly connected to your daughter's life? So exciting. And I know these things.
So, Welcome, welcome to my lovely orange webpage, appropriately titled StripedTowels--enjoy your stay.