As prayers are lifted from every corner of the world today for the survivors of the Paris attacks, the rescue workers and police making sure their people are safe, the soldiers guarding the city and the nation, and the politicians from every country deciding what to do next and how to protect their citizens, I want to take just a second to honor the selfless, vital service being rendered by the journalists there on the scene.
I may be studying to be a hearing scientist, but deep down in my heart, I will always wish I had become a journalist. The importance of news reporters' and photographers' work during times of crisis can never be overestimated - days like these are dominated by confusion and misinformation, and fear and terror are born of not knowing what is the truth. It is the journalists who selflessly run into the danger zone and discover the truth so they can get that information out - not only to the ordinary frightened survivors and onlookers, but even to the politicians and world leaders who need truth on which to base their next decisions.
May God guard and protect the men and women who are on the ground worldwide with paper, phone, laptop, iPad, recorder, microphone, or camera in hand, using their gifts of language and art to pierce the darkness of fear with the light of truth.
November 11, 2015
I reached a new level of nerdiness this week.
At exactly 4:27PM yesterday afternoon, if you lived in my town, you could have found me perched in a tall chair in a brightly lit third-floor laboratory, watching one of the older Ph.D. students dissecting an animal specimen to be mounted on microscope slides later ... not taking notes, or taking pictures for future reference; but instead, nonchalantly painting my fingernails bright orange with the assistance of an obligingly nearby fume hood.
Ah, grad school life. It's crazy.
~ Vicki
At exactly 4:27PM yesterday afternoon, if you lived in my town, you could have found me perched in a tall chair in a brightly lit third-floor laboratory, watching one of the older Ph.D. students dissecting an animal specimen to be mounted on microscope slides later ... not taking notes, or taking pictures for future reference; but instead, nonchalantly painting my fingernails bright orange with the assistance of an obligingly nearby fume hood.
Ah, grad school life. It's crazy.
~ Vicki
October 1, 2015
I have absolutely no idea what to do with this video; but I have to do something with it, so I am sharing it with you.
This is the very last song that the great Irish folk singer Liam Clancy ever performed in public, before his death a few short months later. The wonderful person who uploaded this video had the honor and privilege to be in the audience and witness this agonizingly beautiful and haunting moment. The music begins at 6:20.
This is the voice of a man who knows his life is drawing to a close. Liam Clancy knew his time was short, and he called this concert as a final farewell to the fans who had listened to his music for more than 40 years. He originally scheduled a full 2-hour concert; but he had pulmonary fibrosis, and his weakened heart and lungs could only hold out for about 40 minutes before he had to call it a day. I have listened to other recordings of Liam singing sad songs with great feeling - angry rebellion songs, moving love songs, songs about dementia and war and starvation. But I have never heard him - never heard anyone - sing like this before.
"The Parting Glass" is a traditional Irish song of parting - it talks lightheartedly about getting up and heading out into a cold storm while the others remain behind; but it is normally sung slowly, with the understanding that the parties might never see each other again. This was Liam Clancy's last goodbye, before he did step out into the cold storm of death with an unknown destination.
This isn't the kind of video that I could post up on Facebook, and few of my other friends enjoy Irish or folk music and would understand the significance of this video. It likely won't interest everyone who sees it here. But I think everyone, whether they know or care about Liam Clancy or not, should listen to the voice of a man walking toward the edge of the grave, and remember that our own time to go is coming faster than we think.
This is the very last song that the great Irish folk singer Liam Clancy ever performed in public, before his death a few short months later. The wonderful person who uploaded this video had the honor and privilege to be in the audience and witness this agonizingly beautiful and haunting moment. The music begins at 6:20.
This is the voice of a man who knows his life is drawing to a close. Liam Clancy knew his time was short, and he called this concert as a final farewell to the fans who had listened to his music for more than 40 years. He originally scheduled a full 2-hour concert; but he had pulmonary fibrosis, and his weakened heart and lungs could only hold out for about 40 minutes before he had to call it a day. I have listened to other recordings of Liam singing sad songs with great feeling - angry rebellion songs, moving love songs, songs about dementia and war and starvation. But I have never heard him - never heard anyone - sing like this before.
"The Parting Glass" is a traditional Irish song of parting - it talks lightheartedly about getting up and heading out into a cold storm while the others remain behind; but it is normally sung slowly, with the understanding that the parties might never see each other again. This was Liam Clancy's last goodbye, before he did step out into the cold storm of death with an unknown destination.
This isn't the kind of video that I could post up on Facebook, and few of my other friends enjoy Irish or folk music and would understand the significance of this video. It likely won't interest everyone who sees it here. But I think everyone, whether they know or care about Liam Clancy or not, should listen to the voice of a man walking toward the edge of the grave, and remember that our own time to go is coming faster than we think.
I gently rise, and I softly call:
Goodnight, and joy be with you all.
September 4, 2015
(So, this is basically my theme song. This is an awesome description of how I have lived my whole life and gotten to where I am today. The truthful, spiritual conclusion to all this is that God has worked masterfully in the life of a bumbling, clueless, usually very confused girl; and anything good that comes from my life, the credit goes to Him and Him alone.)
(Enjoy.)
(Enjoy.)
***
Make It Up
by Sam Tsui
Does it look like I've got everything under control?
(I'm good at faking it)
The ice is getting thin, but I'm the only one who knows
I'm only making it up
On the way,
Just play it cool and take it day by day
Do what I can, and if they ask me, I say
"Hey no big deal, I got it all worked out"
I've got a little confession
I don't know what I'm doing
But if you want, you can play along
Maybe I'll wake
To find that I went and blew it
But 'til I do, I'll keep going strong
I make it up as I go, oh oh oh
I make it up as I go, oh oh oh
Still haven't gotten it wrong
Don't got no master plan, I don't got nothing at all
(Please don't think less of me)
The chips are in the air, I cross my fingers when they fall
And make the best of each
Hand I get played,
Stay on my toes and take it day by day
Do what I can, and if they ask me, I say,
"Hey no big deal, I got it all worked out"
I've got a little confession
I don't know what I'm doing
But if you want, you can play along
Maybe I'll wake
To find that I went and blew it
But 'til I do, I'll keep going strong
I make it up as I go, oh oh oh
I make it up as I go, oh oh oh
Still haven't gotten it wrong
And I won't stop 'til I can
See the dead end with my own eyes
I've got a lot to prove, oh
And if I do get stuck,
I'll just wait for better luck
And if it never comes, I'll make it up
I've got a little confession
I don't know what I'm doing
But if you want, you can play along
Maybe I'll wake
To find that I went and blew it
But 'til I do, I'll keep going strong
I make it up as I go, oh oh oh
I make it up as I go, oh oh oh
Still haven't gotten it wrong,
Going strong, I make it up, make it up
I make it up as I go, oh oh oh
I make it up as I go, oh oh oh
Still haven't gotten it wrong
August 17, 2015
PRAYER TO PROTECT LIFE
from Prayerbook.com
Loving God, I thank you for the gift of life you gave and continue to give to me and to all of us. Merciful God, I ask your pardon and forgiveness for my own failure and the failure of all people to respect and foster all forms of life in our universe.
Gracious God, I pray that with your grace, I and all people will reverence, protect, and promote all life and that we will be especially sensitive to the life of the unborn, the abused, the neglected, the disabled, and the elderly.
I pray, too, that all who make decisions about life in any form will do so with wisdom, love, and courage. Living God, I praise and glorify you as Father, Source of all life, as Son, Savior of our lives, and as Spirit, Sanctifier of our lives. Amen.
August 7, 2015
This is my little cactus.
I'm not quite sure what his name is, but it's something like Charlie or Sunny or something cute like that. He's a tough little guy. I don't do a very good job raising him, because I'm not very good at raising plants, but he hangs on and keeps that happy little flower blooming even when I forget to water him or leave him in a shady place for too long.
I love him.
August 3, 2015
I was feeling so overwhelmed and discouraged this evening when God reminded me of this song:
I don't have to tackle all of my life changes in one big sword-swing effort. They will all unfold slowly, like a flower. Life is mostly made up of small moments and small steps; and the only step I need to focus on right now is the next one.
Tonight, my next step is to clean up my mess of books and papers on the couch and go to bed before it gets too late.
I started to list tomorrow's next steps, but I'm not even going to do that. Tomorrow will take care of itself.
Goodnight, my sisters.
I don't have to tackle all of my life changes in one big sword-swing effort. They will all unfold slowly, like a flower. Life is mostly made up of small moments and small steps; and the only step I need to focus on right now is the next one.
Tonight, my next step is to clean up my mess of books and papers on the couch and go to bed before it gets too late.
I started to list tomorrow's next steps, but I'm not even going to do that. Tomorrow will take care of itself.
Goodnight, my sisters.
July 8, 2015
I have been trying so hard to focus my head on writing and blog-designing lately - not to mention reading scholarly journals, studying MATLAB tutorials, finishing my craft projects, and honestly just about anything helpful and productive - and I'm really struggling to do anything but slump in a chair and stare at mind-jellying stuff on the Internet! There are things to write about and take pictures of; but I just can't seem to muster the concentration and motivation to discipline myself to do it! :-(
*Sigh* Life is good - work is good; I only have a few weeks left before starting grad school; I'm working a little with my mentor professor and learning a lot; and I've been doing wonderful things like starting cross-stitch samplers and reading Louis L'Amour novels. It's been raining in my part of the Midwest for weeks, meaning lots of Beatrix-Potter, foresty-smelling days - I wish I could somehow capture a smell and post it here, don't you? There's nothing like the smell of woods in the rain, and I'd love to share my trees with you. :-)
I'm hoping to be doing some more traveling, personally and for work, very soon - I'll try to take more pictures to share with you!
And I really am still hoping to launch a new blog before the end of the summer - I'm pretty settled on the content theme, and am tinkering with the design, trying to get it just the way I want it - misty, peaceful, with just a tiny edge of funny sarcasm. Content-wise, most of the posts are still going to be mainly day-in-the-life stories; but instead of the inner theme of the blog being my own turbulent thoughts, I'm going to talk more about my experiences as a grad student - what I do in classes and clinic, how I grow, and what things I learn about being a successful student and future clinician. There aren't very many blogs about grad school, probably because most grad students are so sick of writing that keeping a blog would be just too much; so as my backup plan, I'm learning about taking better photos, and I hope to save up and buy a nicer camera at the end of the summer, so I can post photos when words fail me. :-) And there are a few other things I'd like to do with it, too. So I do have ideas, even if I've been struggling to enact them!!
What about you? Is summer treating you well? What smells are the sun and rain and wind bringing out in your part of the world? What have you learned, what are you trying that's new?
~ Vicki
*Sigh* Life is good - work is good; I only have a few weeks left before starting grad school; I'm working a little with my mentor professor and learning a lot; and I've been doing wonderful things like starting cross-stitch samplers and reading Louis L'Amour novels. It's been raining in my part of the Midwest for weeks, meaning lots of Beatrix-Potter, foresty-smelling days - I wish I could somehow capture a smell and post it here, don't you? There's nothing like the smell of woods in the rain, and I'd love to share my trees with you. :-)
I'm hoping to be doing some more traveling, personally and for work, very soon - I'll try to take more pictures to share with you!
And I really am still hoping to launch a new blog before the end of the summer - I'm pretty settled on the content theme, and am tinkering with the design, trying to get it just the way I want it - misty, peaceful, with just a tiny edge of funny sarcasm. Content-wise, most of the posts are still going to be mainly day-in-the-life stories; but instead of the inner theme of the blog being my own turbulent thoughts, I'm going to talk more about my experiences as a grad student - what I do in classes and clinic, how I grow, and what things I learn about being a successful student and future clinician. There aren't very many blogs about grad school, probably because most grad students are so sick of writing that keeping a blog would be just too much; so as my backup plan, I'm learning about taking better photos, and I hope to save up and buy a nicer camera at the end of the summer, so I can post photos when words fail me. :-) And there are a few other things I'd like to do with it, too. So I do have ideas, even if I've been struggling to enact them!!
What about you? Is summer treating you well? What smells are the sun and rain and wind bringing out in your part of the world? What have you learned, what are you trying that's new?
~ Vicki
June 4, 2015
I am forcing myself to sit down, put my hands, to the keyboard, and write.
I don't feel like writing - I've done plenty of it already today. I sent 26 emails today, 11 yesterday, and 39 the day before - not to mention the countless instant messages and verbal conversations that fill up the few minutes of each day that aren't spent staring at a screen. My fingers fly on that keyboard, spewing forth overly friendly greetings, gently phrased orders, requests for information, and reassurances of cooperation. Hour after hour after hour.
When I get home, it's very difficult to write the things I want to write. My fiction has suffered badly - I painfully choked out three pages' worth of a scenario from a book I've wanted to write for several months, but by the end of the third page, I had degenerated into boring, predictable dialogue and unnecessarily detailed descriptions. Unusual for me. My blogging is also suffering - as I mentioned on Sunshine and Shadow, I really am planning new things for both of my blogs, but part of my absence is also due to plain old writer's block.
I'm getting quicker and more skilled every day at business communication - rapidly choosing the best phrase from an arsenal of variants on "please" and "thank you", in order to put together the magic combination of words to get what I need from overworked executives and stressed students. My ability to communicate has never served me better - even my supervisor defers to me in matters that require smooth, ingratiating language and a perky tone of voice. Yet because this kind of communication requires so little creativity, I worry that my actual writing ability is suffering. My storytelling ability is atrophying.
Soon I'll be in grad school - again, doing all the writing I can possibly handle. But again, a very different kind of writing than fiction. I wonder if it will serve me better, or if it will take me even further away from my hope of publishing a novel someday?
I don't feel like writing - I've done plenty of it already today. I sent 26 emails today, 11 yesterday, and 39 the day before - not to mention the countless instant messages and verbal conversations that fill up the few minutes of each day that aren't spent staring at a screen. My fingers fly on that keyboard, spewing forth overly friendly greetings, gently phrased orders, requests for information, and reassurances of cooperation. Hour after hour after hour.
When I get home, it's very difficult to write the things I want to write. My fiction has suffered badly - I painfully choked out three pages' worth of a scenario from a book I've wanted to write for several months, but by the end of the third page, I had degenerated into boring, predictable dialogue and unnecessarily detailed descriptions. Unusual for me. My blogging is also suffering - as I mentioned on Sunshine and Shadow, I really am planning new things for both of my blogs, but part of my absence is also due to plain old writer's block.
I'm getting quicker and more skilled every day at business communication - rapidly choosing the best phrase from an arsenal of variants on "please" and "thank you", in order to put together the magic combination of words to get what I need from overworked executives and stressed students. My ability to communicate has never served me better - even my supervisor defers to me in matters that require smooth, ingratiating language and a perky tone of voice. Yet because this kind of communication requires so little creativity, I worry that my actual writing ability is suffering. My storytelling ability is atrophying.
Soon I'll be in grad school - again, doing all the writing I can possibly handle. But again, a very different kind of writing than fiction. I wonder if it will serve me better, or if it will take me even further away from my hope of publishing a novel someday?
May 6, 2015
This.
This is terribly important:
I will be writing more about this in the days to come.
Also, there are flowers blooming and warm sunshine, and my heart is feeling a bit better. Thank you so much for bearing with me and for your encouragement - it's not nice of me to come and dump on you, but you are so patient with my bad moods and melodrama. I am very tired and have a lot of things to figure out, and don't have much energy to figure them; but I need to be like Peter and trust that, if I sink in the waves, Jesus will stretch out His hand and lift me back up. Thank you for reminding me that He will.
I also need to learn how to find more balance in my life. All day, I try really hard to be extremely sugary-sweet and happy with all of my coworkers and clients; so by the time I get home, my "happy tank" is completely drained and my "sad tank" is completely full, and I have to watch or listen to something - or just be, myself - sad or melancholy in order to bring things back into a balance. I need to learn how to constructively express some of my negativity during the day, so I have some reserves of positivity left for my family and blog in the evening. :-)
And now I need to grab a few precious hours of sleep before doing it all again tomorrow ... beautiful adulthood!! I can't wait to jump back into grad school and get a few more years' reprieve!
Hugs!!
Vicki
This is terribly important:
 |
| From Pinterest |
I will be writing more about this in the days to come.
Also, there are flowers blooming and warm sunshine, and my heart is feeling a bit better. Thank you so much for bearing with me and for your encouragement - it's not nice of me to come and dump on you, but you are so patient with my bad moods and melodrama. I am very tired and have a lot of things to figure out, and don't have much energy to figure them; but I need to be like Peter and trust that, if I sink in the waves, Jesus will stretch out His hand and lift me back up. Thank you for reminding me that He will.
I also need to learn how to find more balance in my life. All day, I try really hard to be extremely sugary-sweet and happy with all of my coworkers and clients; so by the time I get home, my "happy tank" is completely drained and my "sad tank" is completely full, and I have to watch or listen to something - or just be, myself - sad or melancholy in order to bring things back into a balance. I need to learn how to constructively express some of my negativity during the day, so I have some reserves of positivity left for my family and blog in the evening. :-)
And now I need to grab a few precious hours of sleep before doing it all again tomorrow ... beautiful adulthood!! I can't wait to jump back into grad school and get a few more years' reprieve!
Hugs!!
Vicki
May 2, 2015
It's good, I guess, if the waves drive me to cry out to God instead of someone or something else; but having been through a very dark time that I believe was depression once already, I'm terrified that it could happen again. And this is just about the worst time it could happen again - not with grad school and so many big changes coming up in the fall. How will I dive into my studies with enthusiasm and determination if I am certain that they're all futile and wasted anyway?
If depression does come again, it will be my fault. That's what's the most difficult thing of all. If it comes, it will be because I was self-indulgent, and didn't make myself get off my seat and deny myself and go do the things. It will be because I sat and hated myself intensely for two hours while playing online historical doll costume games, instead of channeling the hatred to kick myself off the computer and go make or draw or knit or write or bake something. It will be because I let it happen.
That's what frightens me most of all.
May 1, 2015
I wish you could be chilling here on the couch with me tonight, watching Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World!
Of course, then you'd have to see me with my scraggly wet hair up in curlers ... and my Tim Hawkins Jackwagon tee ... barefoot ... with my blue tooth-whitening trays stuffed in my mouth ... and painting my nails Barbie pink.
Yeah, maybe it's better for you to just stay where you are tonight. ;-)
Hugs!!! I hope you're doing well and enjoying this beautiful weather! All of the trees in my town are bursting into flower, filling campus with sweet fragrances and fairylike walks. I'll post pictures of them soon!
Have a wonderful evening, dear sisters!
~ Vicki
Of course, then you'd have to see me with my scraggly wet hair up in curlers ... and my Tim Hawkins Jackwagon tee ... barefoot ... with my blue tooth-whitening trays stuffed in my mouth ... and painting my nails Barbie pink.
Yeah, maybe it's better for you to just stay where you are tonight. ;-)
Hugs!!! I hope you're doing well and enjoying this beautiful weather! All of the trees in my town are bursting into flower, filling campus with sweet fragrances and fairylike walks. I'll post pictures of them soon!
Have a wonderful evening, dear sisters!
~ Vicki
April 22, 2015
I was going to post something ridiculously fangirlish about how Josh Groban has gray in his beard and it makes me love him more than ever ... and how if he ever accepts Christ, I shall immediately set out on a no-holds-barred cross-country voyage to grab him and marry him on the spot ...
... but yeah, you don't want to read that.
So instead, I invite you to jump under my fuzzy blanket with me and listen to his beautiful voice in this beautiful song, and let it brighten your evening a bit. :-)
... but yeah, you don't want to read that.
So instead, I invite you to jump under my fuzzy blanket with me and listen to his beautiful voice in this beautiful song, and let it brighten your evening a bit. :-)
March 15, 2015
Spring work clothes shopping list:
To keep me on track, so I don't go blow my paycheck on fluffy dresses and band tees instead of things I can actually wear ...
Striped and floral cardigans
Skinny (NOT tight) career pants
* In a color?? This would be a leap for me, but it would sure open up outfit possibilities!!
Structured, non-knit tanks and tees, print and solid
Floral tank dresses that are neat, but fit loosely enough to be comfortable
Colored and brown flats
Statement jewelry
April 6, 2015
I haven't been reading or writing much lately, but I've been making some pretty decent music videos:
I hope you had a wonderfully blessed Resurrection Sunday with your families!! I'll try to get back online soon!
Hugs,
Vicki
I hope you had a wonderfully blessed Resurrection Sunday with your families!! I'll try to get back online soon!
Hugs,
Vicki
March 9, 2015
If you're in need of a little joy in your life, how about watching Weird Al Yankovic sing "Yoda" with a choir of children who have autism?
I'm doing something later this week that should, Lord willing, yield some lovely photos if I do it right ... I'll keep you posted! :-)
~ Vicki
I'm doing something later this week that should, Lord willing, yield some lovely photos if I do it right ... I'll keep you posted! :-)
~ Vicki
March 6, 2015
I'm home this morning, chillin' with my homie conjunctivitis.
I have no idea what "homie" even means, that just sounded hysterical.
I'm in a very good mood because the sun is finally shining here today ... I took the dog out this morning in a T-shirt due to his aging leaky bladder not being able to wait until I got a coat; and while the -10F wind chill definitely did bite, I could still feel the sun's warmth and it was glorious.
And there was a bird singing in my neighbor's yard!! Not a winter bird chirping while he poked around in the snow, but a spring bird - it had a cascading sort of call, so I think it could have been a lark or a finch. I can't wait for spring to come!!
I've been thinking a little about the purpose of this blog lately ... not reconsidering it, more like trying to sharpen and clarify it. I originally designed this blog to be less of an emotional dumping place than "Sunshine and Shadow," and more of a daily chronicle of things I did and saw. Because I tend to belabor my "Sunshine" posts so badly, though (sometimes taking several weeks just to write one post), I'm finding my "Captain's Log" posts drifting away from what I did that day and toward becoming a daily sound bite of my thoughts. Which is okay, I guess; but it's not what I originally wanted for this blog.
So I'm not going to overthink things and force my daily entries to become activity records if they really want to be emotional vents; but I am going to try to broaden them a bit and talk more about the world outside my own pitiful little head. Like, for example, posting this morning about the birds outside and the coffee in my big mug and the swollen painfulness of my poor pink eyes, rather than emoting about the powerful post on prayer that I just read and how bad it's making me feel about myself and my walk with Christ. That is a topic for "Sunshine." Because, as we all know, that blog is really more about the shadows than the sunshine anyway. :-) The joys of a gloomy personality.
I'm going to shut off all my technology now and see if I can spend an entire morning without listening to music or looking at Facebook. Wish me luck!!
Love,
Vicki
I have no idea what "homie" even means, that just sounded hysterical.
I'm in a very good mood because the sun is finally shining here today ... I took the dog out this morning in a T-shirt due to his aging leaky bladder not being able to wait until I got a coat; and while the -10F wind chill definitely did bite, I could still feel the sun's warmth and it was glorious.
And there was a bird singing in my neighbor's yard!! Not a winter bird chirping while he poked around in the snow, but a spring bird - it had a cascading sort of call, so I think it could have been a lark or a finch. I can't wait for spring to come!!
***
I've been thinking a little about the purpose of this blog lately ... not reconsidering it, more like trying to sharpen and clarify it. I originally designed this blog to be less of an emotional dumping place than "Sunshine and Shadow," and more of a daily chronicle of things I did and saw. Because I tend to belabor my "Sunshine" posts so badly, though (sometimes taking several weeks just to write one post), I'm finding my "Captain's Log" posts drifting away from what I did that day and toward becoming a daily sound bite of my thoughts. Which is okay, I guess; but it's not what I originally wanted for this blog.
So I'm not going to overthink things and force my daily entries to become activity records if they really want to be emotional vents; but I am going to try to broaden them a bit and talk more about the world outside my own pitiful little head. Like, for example, posting this morning about the birds outside and the coffee in my big mug and the swollen painfulness of my poor pink eyes, rather than emoting about the powerful post on prayer that I just read and how bad it's making me feel about myself and my walk with Christ. That is a topic for "Sunshine." Because, as we all know, that blog is really more about the shadows than the sunshine anyway. :-) The joys of a gloomy personality.
***
I'm going to shut off all my technology now and see if I can spend an entire morning without listening to music or looking at Facebook. Wish me luck!!
Love,
Vicki
March 3, 2015
Instead of feeling, there is a great void.
I want to feel something. Please, let me feel something besides the shaky, sick, dead feelings of stress. Please make me cry. Please make me laugh. You can even make me so angry that I want to knock you down. That's fine. Just please, please, help me feel something.
I'm drowning in fake laughter, fake prayers, fake music, fake conversations. Fake clothes, if there can be such a thing, because they hide my real hippie-poet self under a polished veneer of professionalism and confidence. Everything is sterile, lifeless, monotonous, impotent. Pixels. My world is made of pixels and paper.
Please, just touch my hand. Hit me. Hug me. Shove me. I don't really care, just someone, please, touch me and wake me up and make the world real again.
***
I'm discovering, again, that I really don't handle stress well. You remember how in Jane Eyre, Mr. Rochester remarks that he has to take care of Jane because her body doesn't handle strong emotions well, and she gets sick? Well, I certainly don't claim to be a fragile poet like Jane Eyre, but I do know that my body is easily overwhelmed by stress. Between deadlines, less-than-stellar performance reviews, malfunctioning technology, long hours, and travel, I'm getting terribly worn-out and sick. I have some kind of low-grade infection that has hung around my eyes and nose since December; this week I've had vague muscle aches and nausea and exhaustion that even high doses of caffeine don't help. It's stress. I'm not sick; it's just stress.
I'm so afraid that this is "adulthood." That being "grown up" means getting stuck in these trackless wastes of bland, emotionless, predictable days.
Get up. Put on uncomfortable business-casual clothes. Go sit in an uncomfortable chair and stare at a boring spreadsheet or Word document or Skype video for 8 or 9 hours. Come home. Eat last night's leftovers. Watch some stupid show on the History Channel or PBS until you're falling asleep in your chair. Put on your threadbare pajamas and drag yourself into bed - and sleep 5 or 6 hours until your alarm goes off and you do it all again. And again. And again.
And then you die.
Does no one feel emotions in this strange middle-class adult world? How do they putter through their days so calmly and stably? Are they truly content with these plodding, level, safe, peaceful days? Or are they all pressing their boiling geysers of emotion down into hermetically sealed compartments of their hearts, too?
What could we do with the world if we were just allowed to feel?
February 27, 2015
She's a bombshell blonde
Wired up to detonate
And I'm James Bond
Live to die another day
"Bombshell Blonde" | Owl City
I really need to cut back on my caffeine ... I had a horrible hour this morning where my daily 10:57AM caffeine rush happened to coincide with my tiny-dieting-breakfast blood sugar crash ... still haven't fully recovered. I think I'll have tea tomorrow.
Just got home a little while ago from an awesome performance by one of the theater troupes at my university ... they all did a fantastic job and I had a great time!
Thanks also to Katherine Sophia for reminding me last night that Jesus' public ministry didn't begin until He was 30 ... that helped me a lot. I try to remind myself that there's really no such thing as being "on time" or "behind" or "ahead" in life, since each life has its own timing in God's plan and no one can say when is the right time for another person to reach a certain milestone; but it does get difficult sometimes to be moving at such a dramatically different pace than my peers. Maybe they said the same things about Jesus. :-) I like to think He was still living at home and helping His earthly parents with His younger siblings, too.
And yikes, it's almost 1:30 in the morning! I'd better head for bed!!!
February 25, 2015
I've been busy this week exploring the different levels of "tired". That word seems pretty straightforward, but it isn't.
There's the tiredness that means you sink happily into your cozy chair at the end of a good day's work, and feel the softness cradle your weary bones. There's the tiredness that means that you crawl into bed early, just ahead of the final insistent wave of sleep. There's the tiredness that means you need to push away everything and everyone for an hour or two, and lose yourself in a book or a movie or something that gives your mind rest from the thousand pressing questions of the day.
And then there's the tiredness that means you wander aimlessly into the middle of the kitchen, see the hamper overflowing with clothes and the sink overflowing with dishes, flap your hands frantically in the air, and start to cry.
Yeah.
It's difficult to see the changes that mean I'm getting older. The little sag in my cheeks and chin, the ugly belly fat that seems more and more ineradicable, the ever more persistent crick in my neck. And most noticeably, the waning ability to stay up until 2AM and still function normally the next day.
I'm moving quickly toward 30 ... past my physical prime, into the years of tiredness and aches and pains. I'm really struggling with this. Some women's beauty just gets fuller, riper, and more mature as they approach 30. But I can see my skin getting paler and duller, my eyes getting wrinkled and sad, and my shape getting lumpier and doughier. Especially when I keep trying to start movies at midnight like a college student.
I haven't done enough to be approaching this age. I haven't borne any children, finished any worthwhile work, or completed any significant projects. My life is slipping away and I have nothing to show for it.
I'm moving quickly toward 30 ... past my physical prime, into the years of tiredness and aches and pains. I'm really struggling with this. Some women's beauty just gets fuller, riper, and more mature as they approach 30. But I can see my skin getting paler and duller, my eyes getting wrinkled and sad, and my shape getting lumpier and doughier. Especially when I keep trying to start movies at midnight like a college student.
I haven't done enough to be approaching this age. I haven't borne any children, finished any worthwhile work, or completed any significant projects. My life is slipping away and I have nothing to show for it.
February 17, 2015
It's another bad dream
Poison in my bloodstream
I'm dyin' but I can't scream
Will you show me the way?
~ "Wolf Bite" | Owl City
I am so fascinated by, and in awe of, people who are suited to a nice, quiet, "average" life and are truly content in it. People who can appreciate the joyful service in emptying the dishwasher, or who genuinely take pleasure in things like trying a new recipe, building a sturdy bookshelf, redecorating the house, or tinkering with the car. As in, they truly enjoy these tasks, without trying to find some lofty meaning behind them or sending their brain off on a melodrama while their hands work their tasks.
People like this may think they're not "special," but trust me, as a twitchy, disengaged person who lives her whole life waiting for some vague Adventure somewhere just around the riverbend, you are very special. Being able to truly pay attention to the details of your home project is special. It makes your work better and more reliable. Noticing the details in whether the flowers should be on this end of the bookshelf or that end is special. It makes your home cheerier. Truly investing yourself in the little things that keep our homes and businesses and entire society running, and truly living those things rather than just enduring them, is special.
I barely notice the muddy boot lying in the middle of the hall; I step over it (this really happened this evening, true story) and run to grab my computer or my book or my camera to continue whatever fantasy story I've been unraveling in my head all day. I sit red-faced in teleconferences, listening to executives laughing about the funny typos they found in my FINAL DRAFT WHICH I HAD SUBMITTED FOR FINAL APPROVAL, probably because I was listening to Rick Astley at the time or dreaming up a music video. I walk run out the door late every morning because I was up late the night before (just like I am tonight), listening to bad 80's rock ballads and writing dramatic comments on people's Facebook pages.
Solid, hardworking people like to pretend that we floaty, absent-minded people are something special, probably just because literature tends to portray us that way. But please believe me when I say that there is so much more value in the "little" things you actually do, than the "big" things I just sit on the couch and think about. And most of us know it, if we're honest. We cocoon ourselves in this little bubble of feeling "special" and "unique," but the reality is that most of us are just lazy, selfish, apathetic, and short-sighted.
Please feel free to give us a kick in the pants when our Anne Shirley-ing interrupts your good solid Gilbert Blythe-ing. Turns out we Annes need a little more reality than we think we do.
February 16, 2015
I really never saw myself as the runnin' kind
I'm just a digital brat with an insect mind
~ "Sci-Fi Kid" | Blitzen Trapper
I genuinely can't believe it's still Monday! What a busy day this was! "Vicki, take care of this ... Vicki, make a note of that ... Vicki, check on this for me ... go ask Vicki, she'll help you out ... Vicki, could you spearhead this, please? ... Vicki, make sure this gets done, please and thanks ... Vicki, please track this down and let me know what you find ... Vicki, send me a message as soon as you complete those edits ..."
...
I am incredibly grateful to work as assistant to a supervisor whom I've known for three years and whom I greatly admire and feel honored to work with. I'm also incredibly grateful that he trusts me to complete jobs accurately, graciously, and on time. With trust, of course, comes responsibility. And I feel very ... trusted ... so far this week. :-) It'll be nice to come in and know exactly what I have waiting for me, though - I much prefer coming in and getting right to work, over coming in and having to drift around waiting for something to do. It's interesting - when I'm at work, I hate to be idle; I have to be busy. And yet, when I'm at home, I hate to be busy; I much prefer to be idle. Go figure ...
***
And you tell me that you find it hard to grow
Well, I know, I know, I know
And you tell me that you've many seeds to sow
Well, I know, I know, I know ...
~ "Fool's Overture" | Roger Hodgson (Supertramp)
I had an interesting encounter this evening ... I was sitting on a bench, eating a very messy Middle Eastern sandwich whose proper name I forget, scrubbing mayonnaise off my face with my wrist while scrolling through Facebook with my elbow; when a very young, very lost Chinese boy came up to me and asked directions to another hall on campus.
I told him how to get where he was going, and he nodded and said he understood; after which he asked hopefully if I was a freshman, like him. I laughed and mentally blessed him and said no, I had just graduated. He asked if I liked it here. I said yes, I did, and asked if he liked it here.
A conversation unfolded ... he had only been here for a few weeks; his paperwork was all confused and he didn't know how long he would even get to stay, but he liked it here and didn't want to leave; he wanted to learn about American culture and civics; he was under a lot of pressure from his parents to choose the "correct" major; he envied me for having four younger siblings, as he was, of course, an only child. He shared his fear that his education would be interrupted and he would be older than everyone else when he finally got into his groove; and so I shared my unconventional educational story with him, and his face lit up with relief as he asked me about how I felt (old), whether I still had friends (yes), if I still felt accepted (absolutely), and so on. I could see fears and questions calming as I talked about my life as a 26-year-old undergraduate and he realized it wasn't as bad as he had thought.
Heather joined us at that point, and since we were leaving anyway, I offered to walk with him to where he was going. He accepted happily, I think more because he was eager to have someone to talk with than because he needed help ... on the way we talked about the cold weather, the campus food, and how to orient himself to the campus landmarks in case he got lost. When we got to the building he needed, we made sure he knew which classroom he was going to, then we said goodbye. He reached out for a handshake. I gave him a hug instead and told him to take care of himself.
I know I'll never see him again.
There are so many lonely little guys and girls on campus ... I've thought about this abstractly many times, but it's different when you get to talk with one of them and hear his life's story, his goals, his fears, and his hopes. There wouldn't have been any way to ask to check in on him without being creepy and weird; but I think I'd like to get more involved at the international student center on campus and see if I can make life a little less lonely and scary for these students who are so far away from their homes and families.
***
Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow
Praise Him, all creatures here below
Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Amen
~ Doxology | Traditional Hymn
Father God, please lead me to a body of believers who follow you with their whole hearts, truly loving one another and reaching out in love and care to the world around them ... make me a worthy Christian to join such a group of believers ... help me keep the needs of my family in mind, and not make things difficult for them ... and keep my heart soft, not shunning the company of my brothers and sisters because of shyness or pride or laziness or apathy.
February 15, 2015
I was super encouraged by this little blog post from John Piper's blog this evening, "Communing with Christ on a Crazy Day." The post offered some concrete, practical tips for how to stay connected with and relying on God even in days when we can't fit in our regular devotions; but I really liked how it encouraged us to maintain a spirit of devotion and dependence throughout the day, regardless of whether we've read our normal Bible reading or not. I know that the days when I don't get my devotions completely done are rarely because of an actual schedule anomaly as much as they are because of my own laziness (staying up until 3AM the night before, or sleeping in an extra half-hour in the morning), so I don't feel quite justified in taking advantage of most of those tips; but I was definitely very encouraged by the overall message of taking small Bible snippets and thinking about God's truth throughout the day.
Today was another quiet weekend day. I felt quite sad and irritated for much of it, thanks to my lovely feminine hormones; but I did get a chance to take a drive with my parents and youngest brother during the late afternoon, and it was just a beautiful day:
I've been trying, in the last few days, to rediscover some ways to be creative during the evenings and weekends. My excusable habit during my undergraduate studies of coming home from a long day and vegging out in front of Farm Heroes Saga for an hour or so is not quite as excusable anymore, now that I have no homework and many more hours of free time to myself. I did wrestle myself down and read a chapter or two of Jane Eyre last night, as I mentioned; today I began crocheting the first few rows of a lightweight mohair scarf for spring, and I've been putting quite a few hours' work into my music video hobby these past couple of weeks, as well. My hope is to make myself read and crochet and do things with my hands for longer stretches of time, and try to wean myself off of Internet games and habits that waste time and give nothing in return.
And now I'd better head for bed - I have two important meetings tomorrow, and unfortunately, it's not as socially acceptable to fall asleep in staff meetings as it was to fall asleep in class. ;-)
Have a wonderful night's sleep, and may the Lord shower blessings on your Mondays tomorrow!!
Hugs,
Vicki
Today was another quiet weekend day. I felt quite sad and irritated for much of it, thanks to my lovely feminine hormones; but I did get a chance to take a drive with my parents and youngest brother during the late afternoon, and it was just a beautiful day:
I've been trying, in the last few days, to rediscover some ways to be creative during the evenings and weekends. My excusable habit during my undergraduate studies of coming home from a long day and vegging out in front of Farm Heroes Saga for an hour or so is not quite as excusable anymore, now that I have no homework and many more hours of free time to myself. I did wrestle myself down and read a chapter or two of Jane Eyre last night, as I mentioned; today I began crocheting the first few rows of a lightweight mohair scarf for spring, and I've been putting quite a few hours' work into my music video hobby these past couple of weeks, as well. My hope is to make myself read and crochet and do things with my hands for longer stretches of time, and try to wean myself off of Internet games and habits that waste time and give nothing in return.
And now I'd better head for bed - I have two important meetings tomorrow, and unfortunately, it's not as socially acceptable to fall asleep in staff meetings as it was to fall asleep in class. ;-)
Have a wonderful night's sleep, and may the Lord shower blessings on your Mondays tomorrow!!
Hugs,
Vicki
February 14, 2015
Wowww, that last post was poorly timed ... I genuinely didn't even realize I was spewing my crotchety thoughts right before VALENTINE'S DAY. *cue sarcastic trumpet riff*
Today was a lovely Valentine's Day. I spent half an hour catching up on my year-long Bible reading plan this morning, then ventured out into the Arctic blizzard winds to buy some little gifts for my mom and sister and stop at the discount bakery outlet with my mom. After getting home and thawing a bit, we all ordered Chinese takeout and had a fun lunch/dinner/whatever-you-call-the-meal-when-you-didn't-eat-breakfast-until-11AM. After lunch I tinkered with some of the music videos I'm making, and which are quite promising, if I may say so; I read Jane Eyre while I ate my dinner of toast and oatmeal, then I watched all of my favorite Saturday night shows while finishing crocheting Dan a pair of slippers (and giggling over Sims jokes on Pinterest). Now I'm about to read my evening devotions and head for bed.
I'm not at all upset or jealous of anyone on this Valentine's Day. It's a day for celebrating love; and I'm surrounded by more love than I could ever comprehend, beginning with the love of God and going on down the list. My prayer is, in fact, that I would learn not to be afraid of loving and being loved - in friend and family relationships too, but especially in potential romantic ones. I want to let go of all the hurtful, self-protecting ideas about men that have formed a little crust around my heart, and see them as just fellow human beings and friends to get to know. Some of the ideas I mean are the ones the media propagates, like portraying men as dangerous and lustful; and on the flip side, some of them are from the anti-dating movement, the man-made regulations about exactly how to modestly speak to a man and keep such-and-such a distance between us and so forth. If I met a nice man who was afraid to talk to me because he either thought I was a gold-digger, or because he was afraid of saying or doing something immodest, I would be very sad and hurt. I'm just a thoughtful, quirky, sensitive, lazy human being who happens to be a woman. I want to see men as unique, interesting, individually special and complex human beings who just happen to be men, and therefore not be afraid or shielding myself when I talk with them.
So on this Valentine's Day, I celebrate and thank the Lord for love. For the love of my wonderful family, for the love of my beautiful friends at college, for the love of the new friends I'm making at work and the old friends from long ago who still care for me from afar, and for the love of my future husband, wherever and whatever he is doing on this day. And most beautifully and importantly, for the Lover of my soul, the God-Man who literally gave up everything to save my life. For this, the tears of blood and the lashed back and the torn hands and feet - THIS is love.
Today was a lovely Valentine's Day. I spent half an hour catching up on my year-long Bible reading plan this morning, then ventured out into the Arctic blizzard winds to buy some little gifts for my mom and sister and stop at the discount bakery outlet with my mom. After getting home and thawing a bit, we all ordered Chinese takeout and had a fun lunch/dinner/whatever-you-call-the-meal-when-you-didn't-eat-breakfast-until-11AM. After lunch I tinkered with some of the music videos I'm making, and which are quite promising, if I may say so; I read Jane Eyre while I ate my dinner of toast and oatmeal, then I watched all of my favorite Saturday night shows while finishing crocheting Dan a pair of slippers (and giggling over Sims jokes on Pinterest). Now I'm about to read my evening devotions and head for bed.
I'm not at all upset or jealous of anyone on this Valentine's Day. It's a day for celebrating love; and I'm surrounded by more love than I could ever comprehend, beginning with the love of God and going on down the list. My prayer is, in fact, that I would learn not to be afraid of loving and being loved - in friend and family relationships too, but especially in potential romantic ones. I want to let go of all the hurtful, self-protecting ideas about men that have formed a little crust around my heart, and see them as just fellow human beings and friends to get to know. Some of the ideas I mean are the ones the media propagates, like portraying men as dangerous and lustful; and on the flip side, some of them are from the anti-dating movement, the man-made regulations about exactly how to modestly speak to a man and keep such-and-such a distance between us and so forth. If I met a nice man who was afraid to talk to me because he either thought I was a gold-digger, or because he was afraid of saying or doing something immodest, I would be very sad and hurt. I'm just a thoughtful, quirky, sensitive, lazy human being who happens to be a woman. I want to see men as unique, interesting, individually special and complex human beings who just happen to be men, and therefore not be afraid or shielding myself when I talk with them.
So on this Valentine's Day, I celebrate and thank the Lord for love. For the love of my wonderful family, for the love of my beautiful friends at college, for the love of the new friends I'm making at work and the old friends from long ago who still care for me from afar, and for the love of my future husband, wherever and whatever he is doing on this day. And most beautifully and importantly, for the Lover of my soul, the God-Man who literally gave up everything to save my life. For this, the tears of blood and the lashed back and the torn hands and feet - THIS is love.
February 13, 2015
Okay, here's the thing about love songs. I was talking with a friend today about our favorite music, and I mentioned that my favorites tend not to be love songs. She was so completely shocked that I could tell I wouldn't get anywhere if I tried to explain myself; but I would feel so much better if I explained.
Hugs,
Vicki
- Firstly, the radio is so saturated with love songs that I just get tired of them sometimes. Really, listen to almost any station that plays music with words, and you'll be hearing 98% love songs all the time.
- Secondly, when it comes to love songs, it's all been done before. Seriously. You or I could wake up tomorrow and, with a little bit of luck and some good rhyming ability, we could hit YouTube and become Internet sensations with the next hit love song. It's easy. You start with a heavy base of "you're beautiful"; mix in a healthy dose of "I need you", "I want you", and "I can't live without you"; and finish with "marry me" if you want to appeal to the older crowd, or "let's get together tonight" if you want to appeal to the younger crowd; and you've got it. You're done. In contrast, it takes a lot more thought and depth to write about other emotions like joy, grief, frustration, anger, or pride.
- In that same vein, doesn't anyone ever get tired of writing about love? Of course it's a wonderful thing; but there are so many other life-changing things to write songs about. Why not write about war - why not write about the suffering of the children in Syria and Ukraine? What about race relations in the U.S.? Why not write songs like they did back in the 60's about getting along and supporting each other? Why not write about what it's like for a new immigrant to come to the United States? Or about the importance of the family? Or about the beauty of young people's dreams and aspirations?
I understand that people do indeed write these kinds of songs; and they tend to be my favorites. We've heard a thousand times in song that love is about butterflies, desire, pride, wonder, etc. etc. etc., but love (which actually just means the first stages of romance, not true, long-lasting, sacrificial love) is only one small part of the overall spectrum of human experience. Is it the only part of life that deserves to be put to song?
Hugs,
Vicki
January 22, 2015
Well, I was wrong - life hasn't been any calmer this week. It's been one of those weeks where I laugh during the day and say cheerfully, "yeah, it's been kind of a crazy day!"; but then I come home and sit by myself in the middle of a dark room with my head low over my knees singing "Hunter's Moon."
I'm pretty sure I'm doing something wrong. I'm not delegating, or I'm working too slowly so I don't get things done, or I'm doing too many things at once ... I'm not quite sure what I'm doing wrong. I go through this phase in pretty much every job I work; but sometimes I settle in and find my groove, and sometimes I don't. In my last office job, I settled in nicely and found a comfortable routine. In my kitchen and childcare jobs, I never did. (There was a lot of lonely singing back then, too.)
Part of it is also that I'm a supervisor now, and that stresses me. I always thought I wanted to be the "idea" person in charge of everybody else, so I could run things my way; and indeed I am that way when I'm working on school projects or things in my area of expertise. But when I'm handed someone else's rulebook and told to make sure everybody under me is following the correct procedures and protocols, I get very stressed. Right now, the only person immediately over me is one of the top-level administrators, because I'm that person's assistant; so while I have peers I can consult with, and while I can take the big questions to my administrator, I often don't have anyone to go to with my little everyday questions, like "do you think this will get where it needs to go if I mail it in the morning?", or "how should we group the levels of the new filing system?", or even "where does this thing even GO??".
Officey stuff. Humph.
I'd better get a few paltry hours of sleep to help me keep the ship afloat one more day ... O weekend, I hail thy approach with the greatest of joy and exaltation!!
Have a wonderful evening, my sisters!
Love,
Vicki
 |
| Yeah, kind of like that. But darker. Alone. And singing. |
I'm pretty sure I'm doing something wrong. I'm not delegating, or I'm working too slowly so I don't get things done, or I'm doing too many things at once ... I'm not quite sure what I'm doing wrong. I go through this phase in pretty much every job I work; but sometimes I settle in and find my groove, and sometimes I don't. In my last office job, I settled in nicely and found a comfortable routine. In my kitchen and childcare jobs, I never did. (There was a lot of lonely singing back then, too.)
Part of it is also that I'm a supervisor now, and that stresses me. I always thought I wanted to be the "idea" person in charge of everybody else, so I could run things my way; and indeed I am that way when I'm working on school projects or things in my area of expertise. But when I'm handed someone else's rulebook and told to make sure everybody under me is following the correct procedures and protocols, I get very stressed. Right now, the only person immediately over me is one of the top-level administrators, because I'm that person's assistant; so while I have peers I can consult with, and while I can take the big questions to my administrator, I often don't have anyone to go to with my little everyday questions, like "do you think this will get where it needs to go if I mail it in the morning?", or "how should we group the levels of the new filing system?", or even "where does this thing even GO??".
Officey stuff. Humph.
I'd better get a few paltry hours of sleep to help me keep the ship afloat one more day ... O weekend, I hail thy approach with the greatest of joy and exaltation!!
Have a wonderful evening, my sisters!
Love,
Vicki
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