holy-days.

A belated-Merry Christmas and happy New Year's to whoever reads my blogs.



I'm buried in my bed under a pink blanket with a winter coat and my laptop. It's new year's eve today. It's the afternoon and I'm still in my bed. ...I really really miss my family. I miss the forced family times where my mom has us go around in a circle sharing one thing we appreciate about each family member. I remember last time when it was my turn to share I cried. I miss that I'm not waking up in my house with my siblings doing something interesting, my mom in the kitchen, and my dad in the basement. I miss how my mom would share about a missionary story or force us to watch a christian documentary and encourage us to strive for more.



I miss feeling forced to put up the Christmas tree by my little sister and my dad video-taping us as we pretend to be elizabeth bennett and mr. collins. I miss trying to buy my little sister things I know she wants because I want to gain her approval. I miss not knowing what to buy for the older sister because she has money to buy whatever she wants--but wanting to do something for her to know that she's loved. I miss hearing my brother playing the guitar and singing and then grabbing my guitar and trying to imitate.

Christmas was a time to remember Christ coming to earth as a gift to the world. So many people "celebrate" it--I wish they would celebrate it knowing and feeling the full depth and significance of what it indicates. This Christmas I went to a lot of gift exchanges, sang carols, missed family, but I don't think I truly bowed humbly to worship and thank Christ.

Yeah...I miss home. I feel lonely, but I know I am blessed.

In light of a new year I figured I should begin formulating resolutions.

hrmm..

1. be more decisive...if this is at all possible

2. be more happy

3. seek god first...in life, in the morning

4. sleep early, rise early

5. stop watching asian dramas to learn chinese and go out and talk to chinese people to learn chinese

6. communicate with people back home

7. be less awkward

8. uh...go running?

9. show love to people

10. write more music and find an outlet to play

5th grader writes: "uncontrolable love!"

My fifth grade boy keeps writing about love.

This week:

Uncontrolable Love!
Nice to see you again! I have a private question for you; did you find your true love? If yes then do you really love him, Ms. Cheung? I am not gossiping as you may think: this is an adult question! you think kids in this age you are suppose to be naive playing those hand-games! I am going to be your psychologist, trust me! Ask me questions and please call my cellphone number if any love questions, I am an expert! cell. -------00398 (he put a real number here).
I gave Emily a stamp with her name on it. Once you love someone voluntary then you'll get involuntary loving that person and make her/him happy.

chica suava ii.

[happenings].

One of my first entries on this blog was a creative experiment titled chica suava, entirely fictional of a girl feigning confidence then tripping on her stiletto. Perhaps it was a bad omen to write it...because this past Sunday I practically did everything, which was described in that small excerpt.

This past Sunday, I put particular effort in my appearance--which doesn't happen too often. It was the first time I had straightened my hair and put make-up on my face in maybe over a month. I felt very confident in my appearance...and perhaps too much so. I had a cute tan coat on, Donna vonFurstenburg bag, and fake Chanel sunglasses resting on the nearly non-existent bridge of my nose. I walked hurriedly and cutely knowing I was already late for church. Nearing the church building I saw a youth and cooly chatted and walked with him. Heading for the front door I peered at my reflection quickly in the glass and smiled. I was seriously feeling cute or something. As we walked into the building another teenage boy was waiting in the foyer. I pulled my sunglasses up pulling back my hair and flashed a nice smile. I lightly skipped up the stairs by myself feeling pretty. Then....WHAM. I tripped on my foot catapulting forward face down at the entrance of the sanctuary, and screamed, "O God!" LOL. I can't believe I screamed "O God!" tripping late into church.

giving light to my day.

Goodness, sometimes it's the littlest things that can brighten up your day. Today it was reading the journal of one of my fifth graders.
This fifth grader is one of the best dressed boys in the fifth grade.

This is his journal entry:

Love!
Love is an adult word but it also occur in children. I love Emilyas many (or every) of my friend knew that I like Emily Hu and I have a sheet gossiping of the couples'places that they've won. Jack and Martina are the first place andEmily and I got 2nd place. Of course, it is a fake rumor and noone except for Jack knows.


HAaha. O man. This explains a lot. I just realized that they sit next to each other...I wonder who planned this.

fa piao.

I'm not sure if there's a good reason for the title for this entry, but as I opened this create-a-new-post-window I carefully unwrinkled a receipt for cell phone minutes. We collect all our receipts / fa piao's and tape them to sheets of paper and send it to HR to have our taxes reduced. It's funny how it works here. At home in the U.S. we get tax reductions for giving donations, and here we get tax deductions for spending on ourselves.

Thanksgiving.

There really are so many things to be thankful for. I know sometimes it's easy for me to look at what I lack...to feel the twangs of emptiness and envy toward those who have close family or significant others nearby. It's on the holidays when I feel it the most...the nostalgia. I seriously love my family too much...I'm madly in love with my family. At the same time, I rarely talk to them. When I do, it's as if we never parted...because I rush them and dismiss their sentiments unconscientiously. Only my family really knows the horrid sort of person that I am.

Anyhow, I've gotten off topic. I wanted to say that as much as I thought I didn't have anything great or significant to be thankful for other than the cliche food, shelter, and clothing, God sorta threw something at me in order to make me praise and thank him for who he is.
As I walked into the apartment for the churchy people Thanksgiving dinner, I tried hard not to let disappointment show on my face as I looked about at the unfamiliar faces of those who seemed old...or rather older than me. Then I spotted a familiar man, my brain registered the face but not a name. This was the Chinese man who I shared the reason for my faith in Christ with. This was the guy who knew nothing about Christ and wanted to know why I believed. This was the very guy that listened intently to every word that I said and read a Chinese book about Christianity that I had given him. I hadn't seen him since August, and here he was at a Christian Thanksgiving gathering. Later in the evening I approached him and asked him who invited him. With his broken English he told me who invited him, then he proceeded to thank me for the book I had given him and that he had started reading the Bible with some Christian friends. Gosh......that was sorta really neat. I really think he's been searching...and he's on the brink of accepting this faith. And I feel like somehow I was a little piece of this puzzle in building this bridge between him and God--somehow it gives some significance to my seemingly meaningless not so significant humdrum life. I exaggerate...but still it felt like a blessing to witness and a blessing worth thanking god for.

mm. thank you god. because truly. you're good.

thoughts and thing of the sort.

[thoughts].
My mind is swimming. I'm uncertain, unclear of what is wrong with me or the state I'm in. There is something empty or thoughtless in how I live. I lack discipline and clear purpose right now. More and more my personality is hardening...not in a cold sense but hardening like cementing into what it simply is. A number of time and years had been spent in attempt to mold and change what I was. I thought I could change who I was. I can't...or not really. I revert to the me who has and ever will be me. I hate that the me who is me is awkward. I can't talk to people I really want to get to know, and I cling to people who simply make me feel less awkward. There are certain people I admire...I can never know them, because perhaps I fear them. They trigger my uncertainty of self...and as awkwardly as I express my affection...it doesn't really show.

I'm quiet. I'm introverted. I really don't know how to build friendships and bridges with people that fate doesn't throw into my path--an inescapable pathway.
Will it change ever?

Currently I'm leading a small group of junior high girls and I feel horribly about it. I really don't know how to connect with them...I'm awkward though I shouldn't be. I'm the adult...but why do I feel like the awkward quiet seventh grader. I just never know what to say.

Yesterday I had a friend from Beijing come crash my place along with four other friends. They are wonderful...and I am wonderfully awkward. Not only do I not really know them...but I simply don't know how to contribute to conversation in general. They are wonderful outgoing people...what do I have to say to them? I don't know...because I have no experience in this. I run out of questions...my brain is slow. My mind is always going...but always thinks that none of the streams of thought are conversation appropriate. I'm overly mellow. I'm not very exciting. Actually these friends are still here and I've secluded myself in my room because I found myself awkwardly sitting there with nothing to say.
Er. awkward





the inescapable pathway?











[la musica]

senses: and a sense of being over blessed.

"What would you rather lose, your hearing or your vision?" Monica W asked this question this summer whenever she was bored and each time I'd answer, 'my vision'; I'd still respond the same. As I began losing vision in my left eye this past week, this question kept resounding in my mind.

Sounds are my solace and refuge. Last night a friend read to me; two nights prior a friend and I jammed on our guitars--I did these things with eyes closed, and sometimes you just close your eyes to appreciate what sound can offer.

- - -
When I was a child I'd walk around my house with a blanket over my head at night attempting to walk back to my bedroom without looking. I thought if I were blind, would I be able to get around?

Though I have my right eye, I've found it difficult to use in bright lighting. My right doesn't like to open if my left doesn't open. Outdoors in daylight is the worst; I walk outside and my eyes wince at the brightness, so I walk with both eyes closed opening once in a while to make sure I don't trip. I walk out of my apartment building and count my steps down the sidewalk to see if I could manage ever being blind.

I am extremely blessed. I have two eyes, two ears, two legs, two arms...and so much more. Have you ever just thanked God for the ability to hear and listen to the soul fulfilling sounds of music? Have you ever thanked God for the blessing of taste buds to taste the salty-sweet-spicy-sour-bitter-wonder of food.

As my eye was being injected with antibiotics I felt the blessing and curse of feeling. As the pain of a needle being inserted in my eye surged through my body, I held tightly to the comforting hand of a woman I didn't even know very well. Pain sucks, but hugs and the moments when someone just holds you simply feed your soul.

Right now, I just feel amazingly blessed. My eye seems to be recovering, and my music is playing as I type with this one eye. I know I am loved.

I woke up yesterday, and my favorite pizza-flavored PRETZ sticks were sitting beside me with a note telling me that a jelly drink awaited me in the fridge. and oh my goodness....I love snackage!....and I loveee jelly drinks! I love jello!

The door rang, and a neighbor brought me a can of soup and a room key to use her phone to call my family. Before noon, I got a phone call with an offer to bring me lunch. Then I received another call to order anything I'd like to eat. At noon, the principal and vice principal arrived with my lunch and said a prayer for me.
I am truly deeply blessed.
MAD blessed.
Madly loved.
much too blessed.

small significance.

To think that such a minute speck on my eye would cause me such trauma. I woke up yesterday morning thinking the swollenness and pain of the previous day would have subsided, but it did not. I stared in the mirror at the white blotch in an off-centered part of the black portion of my eye. I poked at it and realized it was fixed and determined not to move. I cried. This thing is growing and I'm going to be blind. I went to the hospital yesterday morning. The nice doctor told me it was an ulcer on my cornea. I cried. Heck, what do I know about ulcers? I don't.

The rest of yesterday it just seemed to get worse. Pain, swollenness, headaches, and somehow body aches. I usually just deal with pain. It honestly wasn't as bad as walking on two sprained ankles, but the foreboding possibility of having permanent loss perhaps made it more painful. I went back to a different hospital, because I had no idea how to use the four different bottles of written-in-Chinese-perscriptions. The lady-doctor told me to triple the dosage because my eye was pretty bad--quite comforting. She patched up my eye and told me to get rest and wake up in the morning and reapply the drops. Quite humorous I assure you....is the image of me with a patched up eye walking sleepily around the sketchy streets of Shanghai. I went to bed and woke up this morning. I unpatched my eye. Less pain..maybe my eye is better. My eye appeared to be glued shut. I used some hot water to remove all the gooiness.

White. All I see is white. My left eye currently...is literally blind. It can't see a thing. No color, no blurs. I stare up close at the mirror. With my right eye I see that my left eye has the shape of an eye. White and a black circle in the center, but with my left, I see nothing. I see white...and tints of white...shadows. It's quite strange. Something I've never really exeperienced.

Okay...so I fear blindness. but maybe I'm not really going blind...maybe it's just the drops getting to work, and my body getting to work to repair itself. I suppose we shall see. Perhaps I'm overdramatizing all this, because I really have no idea what is going on. Maybe this all is quite normal. Anyhow...I'm glad I get to account this experience. I can't imagine how it is for people with serious permanent physical loss. There is also that fear that people will look at you differently. The initial pity and babying, extra care from people is nice at first...but do people see you normally still? Having one eye is never as attractive as having two eyes...and I can recall thinking people with one glass eye as being sort of creepy. God forgive me for how I've thought of other people and judged them.

So now...I'm waiting.

happier note.

I just realized that I made my blog public and that I only wrote in this blog most recently when I wasn't quite cheery. So in order to achieve some sort of balance I will account happy and quite normal happenings in a less emo manner.

Soo October break passed and it was quite exciting. Exciting in that I experienced a mix of highs and lows.

Lowlights: giving all my money to a skin/spa/facial/massage place half-heartedly
bloody toe
getting shooed out of a music store
all the people on the street chasing me and grabbing my arm trying to sell me things


Highlights: leading worship at Encounter retreat and rocking out
leading "making melodies" at Encounter
hanging with my small group
go-carting at the F1 race track!
the first guitar shop!
xiao long bao place with pretty buildings
one entire day reading
smothees
riding a bike through shanghai for the first time.



Oh and this weekend I went to this incredible 5th grader birthday party. It was all you could eat hot pot at one of the most expensive high class hot pot restaurants in shanghai that overlooks the bund (water/skyline). THere was a chocolate fondue fountain with marshmallows, and we even began roasting marshmallows on the hotpot flames. THere was a game of bingo followed by birthday group ice skating at the rink next door. muchos fun. I got to skate with some of my fifth graders! So much more fun than teaching them.


K, muchos hombre.

sophie's world

"Long before the child learns to talk properly--and long before it learns to think philosophically--the world will have become a habit."

I sometimes wonder if I'm living my life thoughtlessly, repeating my humdrum routine, day in and day out.

I was reading Sophie's World(a novel narrated by a young girl exploring philosophy. quite strange but captivating), and it triggered some introspection. I haven't had much time to stop and think about my life and life in general. There's something ominous, something scarey about living life like a habit. There's an innate desire to live life like an adventure, venturing toward the unknown. I'm afraid of being stuck doing something, day in and day out dispassionately. So now I'm questioning my role teaching in this school on this side of the world. I thought I'd might like it, but why do I feel so exhausted everyday? If someone were to ask me if I enjoyed teaching, I might have to honestly reply with uncertain hesitation and hesitation itself implies some hidden truth. If I decided not to come back after this year would I regret and miss it? Or would I simply stay because staying is easier once life is habit and allow myself to feel uncertain.

Happenings.
I'm a wuss. I really don't know how to be firm. I wonder if somehow my past contributes to how I am in this matter. Why don't I know how to confront people? Why do I fear conflict when it's needed? Why do I just say "yes, whatever" all the time!! I once told a friend that my older sister was too nice and would never say no to anyone. I said that I worried about her. He replied by saying that I was the same way, and I didn't want to believe it. It wasn't until recently that I realized that this was completely true. I don't know how to be honest to myself. Everything is always okay. Nothing is ever wrong.

I got convinced to spend nearly all the money at this spa like skin or something facial place because they made it so hard to say no, and for some reaon I couldn't figure out why I kept saying okay. I said okay as tears streamed down my face. Why, steph? Why did you say Okay?
I don't really want to go out to eat, but someone will ask and I'll say "Okay" with a really enthusiastic face. Someone will say something mean or offensive and I'll be hurt....they'll apologize and I just say "oh that's okay, I didn't mind," when really it did hurt or when I'm still bothered. Why do I do this?

Other happenings.
My older sister is in a relationship. I think it's her first relationship, but honestly, what do I know. I wish she would talk to me more, but then again I barely talk to anyone at home at this point. Everyone is busy, and I am busy.
I was talking to K and said that I didn't know what I was doing with my life. He said that meant I was going to get married soon. I laughed and told him I'd be the last of anyone I knew to get married. I still hold to this. I can see my friends getting married. I can see each of my siblings getting married. I've got issues. My ego is too big. I think I'm special or something. I'm not succeptible to normal human happenings.

Faith
I have faith. I don't know why, but I do. I cling to it because it makes me secure. It gives me reason. I have doubts but I hav faith. I wish my faith was stronger. Strong enough to move a mountain. Strong enough to be contagious. Regretfully, my faith is flimsy.

another day in the life of a fifth grade teacher.

Yes. Yet another day. I'm the sort of person who would have been fired within the first month of working somewhere. No matter where I've ever been, I ALWAYS get into some sort of trouble. I'm irresponsible, disorganized, and absent minded. I was never meant to be launched into the normal work world. I think I was made to be the starved artist on the street--playing whatever songs she feels at whim and whenever. Hours and rules are nonexistent in the daydream world of mine.
I dream and hope too much. I don't actually do anything about it. I need to get to some open mics next week when we have break.

My kids have issues but I don't have a good enough memory to remember which kids need to have extra help or dentention.

I have one girl who is ultra-complicated. Her name is Jie. She is a compulsive liar, disrespectful, and too smart for her age. She has this factual information but not the developed maturity to use it properly. She manipulates her parents and her classmates--and calls them names that they can't understand. Her favorite author is Dan Brown--she's quite scarey

purpose.faith.trust.relationships.

[thoughts]
It's funny, extremely funny, but not. I think it's funny that I'm sitting in China and that I'm no longer a student and in fact, I'm a teacher. It hasn't fully hit me. I still feel like I'm in a dream. Sometimes I think that I will be that older woman with an identity crisis when she realizes she really is old. I still refuse to believe that I'm old. I feel way too young, and I know I act it. People always think I'm in high school. Goodness.

Reflecting on my current life, I'm riding on a flat plain. Depression and loneliness has yet to hit me, and I'm just waiting for it. (For some reason I always expect it to come eventually because I believe it is needed in the pattern of life to balance a person). I haven't had extreme elation for extended periods either--well other than the times I've been able to do worship, the time I played for the faculty, and playing at the mall....

Honestly, sometimes I think I'm getting dumber. My depth is rising up to sea-level bringing me into a shallow state--in fact, maybe it's not just shallowness but complete lack of thought (some call this air-headedness). I'm too busy, too tired, too spaced out to think. I had never been a reader nor a watcher of television and such, but I realized that those things which I've been running to when work is done have been keeping me from thinking. They allow me to escape my thoughts and mind into a fictional reality where my brain sits like a blob of mush--flattening and flattening. It's strange to think that reading keeps me from thinking...but for me...it keeps me from thinking about the important things in life I feel as if I've been overlooking. eh, and I suppose this could also be due to my choice of reading material. Though...I have been rather impressed by the authors of these shallow books. They are able to write depth into a fictional character laying out motivations and the ugliness of humanity. I think the shallowness of the characters have been rubbing off on me...

You know, it's quite sad. I realize I escape to my books and dramas because these created experiences take me through emotions I can't feel on my own. I scream in delight when I sense love. I bawl my eyes when my heart aches with the pain of a character's hurt. I start to deeply desire my books or soaps, being anxious to get back to my apartment and lay out on my bed with my book or laptop.

Relationships with people have been interesting. So I'm 22, and by now I should have myself figured out. I should understand how I interact with people, but sometimes it's confusing. I'm still learning about myself through how I interact with people. The person I see most now is Didi. I feel as if there is little depth to our friendship and perhaps it's because she doesn't share the same faith. She's been living on my floor for the past month, and though most people think it's amazing that I would put up with a person on my floor for so long--I tell people I'm okay with it. It's actually a good and bad thing. I don't mind her there. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. I've realized I like it when people are dependent on me. I've always been friends with the people no one else wanted to hang out with or people who were just simply very different from me. I was raised to do this. .

I'm starting to get more comfortable with myself and just acting like my silly self around people. I used to always be intimidated by people, afraid of their opinion and afraid to break from my quiet awkward shell. But...some people still make me feel awkward. I revert to my 13 year old timid self. I'm trying to figure out what it is about certain people. Certain coworkers, older women, guys my age, Caucasians....is there a pattern or is it mere circumstance? For all my past internships I was much too overly shy with my bosses and I hugely regret that..but goodness I had no idea how to get over that...it was always so awkward. .


Sometimes I attempt to be friendly and smile at people and in reality my face isn't doing quite what I would like it to do. People sometimes ask me why I gave them that weird look. Sometimes as I'm walking outside I practice smiling and greeting invisible people so when an actual person comes by my smile looks less awkward. I'm strange.

So just what am I doing here. Does this entry have a point? Does my being here have a point? I never seem to know but I always want an answer to this question. Perhaps there is such thing as destiny or divine planning. Sometimes I pretend these things are real, although deep down I'm a cynic.

I've got two me's in conflict. The highly cynical me and the "I just want to be happy" me. The cynical me hates being ignorant and pretends not to be naive. The cynical me does not believe that things have reason or purpose and does not trust that feelings can substantiate reason for decisions or merely making statements. The cynical me is highly judgmental, overly cautious, and resolve-less. The cynical me illegitimizes spiritual and emotional experiences and attributes them to natural responses not destiny or purpose. The cynical me scares people and makes people feel defensive. The cynical me doesn't necessarily want people to like me but to see me as intelligent, as different, and not like everyone else. The cynical me is afraid to be looked down upon and has a pride issue. The cynical me pretends to be a realist.

The "I just want to be happy" me sees that people like happy people and wants to be liked. The IJWTBH me cares about what other people think and knows that people like silly people that don't intimidate them. The IJWTBH me wants to believe in things like destiny, fate, purpose because those things are simply beautiful. The IJWTBH takes doubts that are too strong and shoves them to the side because they're ugly and unattractive, and that me wants to just believe in the ideals. The IJWTBH me pretends to be an idealist.

Lately I've been caught in the latter me, but the former me wants badly to come out. The former me was the me in early college--but it was pretty miserable being that me. I've always believed in balance--that many extremes are bad and balance is needed. Like these 2 selves...somewhere there's a healthy middle ground. I wonder if I'll ever find it.

K I really should get real work done now. peace.

beauty.

[thoughts]
It's warm. It's beautiful. I love you, Spring.

Yesterday, I wore a skirt. It was white & flowy and paired with black & white knotted kitten heels.

I find it strange how in one day, I can feel both pretty and repulsive. I have difficulty putting effort into how I look in fear that I won't look pretty despite the effort. What will people think? ...gosh, how pathetic, that girl looks like she tried and she still looks gross...
I used to get ready in the morning, intentionally trying to look like I didn't try to look nice. I wanted to look like my appearance was effortless. The irony is in the fact that I was self-conscious of looking like I was self-conscious.

Who am I looking nice for?--the strange passer-byer?, the boy who ushers at the front door?, the pretty girls that make me feel uncomfortable?, or me and for confidence sake?

Have you ever wondered why certain people are so beautiful, but when you look at a picture of them you realize that they by no means have the beauty as is defined by society? They have a beauty that comes from their smiles. They have a beauty that comes from a joy that they exude. Some people have beauty that comes from mannerisms. Some people have beauty that comes from personality. Some people have beauty that comes from their intellect, talent, or heart.

It's not wrong to desire admiration, love, and confidence.
But I believe that we've placed an over-emphasis on a beauty that is only skin-deep. I think beauty should be pursued wholistically--taking into account all of the things above.

speaking of vision...

[thoughts]
Coincidentally, or perhaps not, I was reading a devotional this morning that described a scene. You are driving in a storm, the wind and rain is pretty treacherous, but you're driving cautiously. You look down to your radio to change the station, and in that moment you have driven up on to a curb and hit a mailbox. What this was paralleling was that in our spiritual lives we've learned to face the storms, we've learned and know how to meneuver our way, but it isn't the storms that screw us over, it is when we take our eyes off the road. The driving scenario is oddly very reflective of my driving and recalls a many instances--namely, rear-ending while on the phone. And I realize in my spiritual life, the distractions and misdirection of my eyes lead to my downfall.

I had taken my eyes off the vision--so mesmorized by the bright lights on the radio, the interior, the materialism, the immediate affection, that I've driven into a pit. How can I keep my eyes from seeing, or rather focusing on the shallow, interior, and bring my eyes to see further out, deeper, more meaningfully, at things of true value?

Jesus, I confess even now that my eyes are on me. I've got a horrible case of near-sightedness.

I realize that keeping your eyes on Jesus, does not mean you do not see the things that immediately surround you in the closer environment, but instead he shows you, perhaps like a mirror, how the things around you really are and shows you a reflection of yourself. Perhaps it's like a filter, a better way of seeing life, through the eyes of a man who lived out of love, selflesness, and compassion.

How can I challenge myself each day to look out, and look at things through Him?

[turn your eyes upon jesus. look forward, on his wonderful face. and the things of this world will grow strangely dim. in the light of his glory and grace.]

pick me up.

[thoughts]
I changed the first entry of this blog today; it's labeled [an introduction]. Reason for the change? Actually, I changed the intro, deleted a bunch of entries, and edited some of the ones that remain. And it was because I wanted to write, but everything that was already written here kept me from writing. I saw myself being unreal and embarassingly so. The inconsistency was troubling. How am I to talk about my faith and struggles when the previous writings were a fake filter of frustration?

Today is Wednesday, and I'm sitting in Lane Student Center typing away while waiting for a group meeting to occur. Today was like any other day. I woke up after having fallen asleep with my dinner, laptop, and papers all on my bed. Half-consciously, at 8am, I lifted my head and with a stressed voice I said "Oh crap," then I lay back down and slept. I don't actually remember why I did that, but I remember doing it. Perhaps for a split second I thought I was late to leave for class, but I wasn't.

I had written a note on facebook a couple nights ago...two nights ago?...about a missionary that came to cbcgl. My mother had heard him speak and pestered me nonstop to hear him speak, convinced it would give me vision. My mom was right. I half-believed her.

We are so apt to live life blindly, and I realize, sometimes we like to, but truthfully, we cannot do so forever. Without vision, we begin to lose purpose, and when the things we rely on fail us we lose complete sense of self and sense of security.
I admit, hand raised, I've been living blindly. I strive and live for things, and I don't even know why. I worked so hard to get a spiffy resume, thinking I could get a spiffy job, so that I can live in a spiffy house, and have spiffy clothes--and then maybe get a spiffy man. Screw the spiffyness. Gosh, I've fallen in so deep. I'm in so deep, and I don't know what to do. I'm trying really hard to get out. I plugged myself into a church, I plugged myself into ministries, I plugged myself into church leadership, and I even agreed to go overseas--though unsure if that was God's will. Gosh, but I'm still stuck. My brain has been set to a mode, a train of thought, a gear that seems locked in place. I'm selfish. I'm so materialistic and self-conscious that I admit this is my weakness. I want to be adored, admired--or at least think that I have the potential to be.

I used to think that I could give up everything and be a missionary if God asked me to. What happened? The thought of being somewhere without plumbing irks me. The thought of not having electricity frightens me--because, oh my gosh, I wouldn't be able to plug in my hair straightener. Ironically, my shallowness is drowning me. God, pick me up.