A turbulent wind in my mind, a dream unrealized. Thoughts... my public exposure of my inner debates. Barrowdowners who find their way to this site (which as of now are few, I haven't linked it yet), this is Sophia's place... a place for exploring my faith and expressing my growls with life.
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The people who inspire me:
Joel
lindil and his "musings"
Lush
Tolkien
Dr. Stump
Alaklondewen
X
Garrett
CS Lewis
****
Aah, the amazement of just saying what you want...
Current state of:
Mind- cheerful
Health- crappy
Appearance- beyond neglected
Refrigerator- overflowing!
Computer- angsty
Life- On henceforth undiscovered planets only.
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Wednesday, July 02, 2003
Copy'n'Pasted specially for X!
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
Well, even since posting the last blog only an hour or so ago, I've spent much of my time in tears and generally dissatisfied with the state of my life in general my relationships in particular.
Currently I'm teary and alone.
I made up with Joel. God Bless Alaklondewen.
10:06 AM - add eprops - add comments - email it
Warning: No Amusement
I've been talking to people. And reading blogs. And feeling shallow. So, my usual silliness aside, a few serious thoughts. Being an internet-addicted, chatroom-obsessed, bored-of-work, only-nice-to-people-I-like person has been fun, it's been entertaining, it's been refreshing. But I'm tired of it. There are satisfying moments, there are things that make me smile and feel like a person who just knows more people than I did before. But those moments mostly reinforce the fact that most of them do something more substantive than I do.
I love talking to people. It's one of the first things that I told Joel when I first started to get to know him a year ago. I just love talking to people and finding out what they love and listening to them talk about it. I talked with one of those obnoxious "JESUS!" kids from the chatroom last night (Ulmo, if you're reading this, she had a major grudge, I stood up for you bunches ), but after we'd sorted through a few basic courtesy issues (read: look, I believe what you do, but there's no call to stuff it down people's throats and watch them choke...) we had a really good chat. I swapped email addresses with her, and hopefully we'll get to talk some more. She's really interested in postmodernism and theories of truth. She's really fascinated by the concept of a utopian society. She's a nice girl. I was enriched.
I talked to X the other night, not like I don't talk to her every night, but she's so fascinating when she starts talking about psychology and child development. She sent me pictures of babies, told me about the orphans in Romania. The kids are sad, but I couldn't help enjoying the conversation. That's what I miss about the friendships that I have right now. Most of them are really surface (Thank you, X). And I read Ulmo's blog. Refreshing. Maybe I'll change my background to blue and write about poetry and say nice things about people and make it all sound like it has some meaning. Maybe my blog will be refreshing then. Or maybe I'll change my background to yellow and write about my own bodily functions. Perhaps keeping any sort of a meaningful blog is as pointless as burra continually points out to me, as I'm obviously restraining myself from saying all the things that I want to say.
But I'm tired of being shallow and having silly friendships based around things like spelling errors and the Barrow-Downs. Yes, those things are a beginning, but I don't want them to be an end. And it's time to be me again. I've been on vacation for a long time, at least a year. But I need to get back to the way I know is right. I'm a Christian. Its time to be one again. *sighs* It's been a long time, and I don't think like I used to. I will never be picky about stupid pointless things like language and dress codes again. But you know, there's something that I'm missing, and I need to go back through and find it (Merendis will have to coach me on the crystal-on-a-string method again ). I miss my home and my church, but it's time to stop whining and find a new home here. I live here.
I want to call you guys by your real first names... show of hands?
And where is Orald? Wish he wouldn't stay away.
Sophia, the Currently Thoughtful and Melancholy
*cough* Best Musical in the world, below. Thank you for your attention.
Currently Playing
The Scarlet Pimpernel: Encore! (1998 Broadway Revival Cast)
By Frank Wildhorn, Nan Knighton
Where's the Girl, The Riddle
see related
8:21 AM - 2 eprops - 1 comment - email it
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
So after a long (er, three day...) absence from the world of Xanga, I have returned. I am now resolved not to be mad at anyone who doesn't know what's going on anymore. That includes Manardariel, but does not include Joel, who deserves beheading, and possibly other unpleasant fates.
Well, since I can't think of anything else of importance, those of you who haven't heard already, and even those of you who already have, here comes a rant on the idiocy and outright meanness of controlling people who are condescending and generally useless. Yes I am talking about Joel. I don't understand how he can make a fuss about who I feel like hanging out with, when he makes less than no effort to hang out with me himself. He won't go more than three minutes without alluding to his own overpowering hotness, how lucky I should feel to know him, and how undeserving of his attention I am. Why the FK do I put up with it?
Not to mention the "You can't", "I don't think you should", "I don't want you to" and "Please don't"s. Argh. Is it your business what I do? Really now? No. That's right.
Anyway, I was feeling very calmed about the whole thing, and was entirely ready to let it go, but then I made a good faith effort to talk to him yesterday. Argh. Everyone knows the awkward feeling where you have lots of things to say (read, yell) but nobody's really saying them? The conversation went about like this: "hi" "hi" "how have you been?" "Me? I'm fine, fine, you?" "Oh, I'm good" "how's work?" "well... it's ok, yup, it's ok." "well, bye then" "bye".
Dammit. I want him to apologize.
Eek, I just realized how much like a teenybopper blog entry this sounds. I am tempted to go back and erase it all and start over with something less... hormonal . But since I think letting people in on my thought processes is much more fun, I'll just change the subject now, putting a disclaimer on the last few paragraphs: WARNING ANGRY GIRL.
So last night, Beth stayed up with me, as she wasn't feeling sleepy and we were loud all night, regardless of Cindy sleeping in another room. It was super-fun, cause we made brownies (mmmm chocolate) and watched Indiana Jones (mmm young Harrison Ford) and I sang out loud in the chicken voice. That gave Beth a bit of a shock, as I don't think she's used to hearing a small cartoon character in my throat, but you know, people get used to it. I read some of the grave matters episodes out loud, because forcing people to hear things I think are funny is one of my greatest pastimes, and fortunately for me, she enjoyed it. However, she threatened to write in about me... so I'll be keeping an eye on her email privileges .
I am beyond rambling, and rather overusing the melodramatic italics today, so I'll let you all head back to your very nice lives. *bows*
Sophia, the Thunderiest of Thunder Mistresses
Currently Playing
Caedmons Call
By Caedmons Call
Center Aisle
see related
1:06 PM
Friday, June 20, 2003
Oh, I forgot, just for clarification...
I blame Phrim.
7:18 PM
Must write and detail to all of you what you want to know about the persons who make up the place I like to call Work (Not that any of you really want to know, but it just makes life simpler in the long run).
The Bosses:
Tim the Elder- Tim the Elder is my main boss, the head of the archives department, in which I am but a puny assistant staple puller. He's also my philosophy prof, and a master of particularly useless trivia (his specialty being various Mennonite denominations). He's incredibly lenient which results in non-travesties like my being paid to sit here and type this.
Dr. Root- Dr Root is my scariest boss, as he's in charge of the whole library. Not terribly scary right now, as I'm down in the basement and he's up in a nice comfy office. But the man's got power. Aside from authorizing our now and then library pizza parties, the only direct contact I have with him is when he approves the buying of more plastic coated paperclips (which are of course, the lifeblood of the archives).
Mark Root- Mark is Dr. Root's son, and what exactly he does is still beyond me. But he's a pretty fun guy, and I turn my timecard in on his desk every week, and I seem to end up getting paid regularly, so at least he's doing that right.
Tim the Younger- Tim the Younger is the least important and yet most intriguing boss. So he's a bit of a stalker and has been known to frighten me in past blog entries, but I'm really getting quite used to seeing his little face pop in every now and then. He's also the computer guy who doesn't actually fix computers, but somehow I seem to be the only one that notices that his office is down here in the dungeon, yet he's always upstairs near the wireless network transponder. Hmmm...
The Student Workers:
Naomi- Naomi's Romanian, a psych major, and she's really a sweetheart. One of those overwhelmingly sweet people in fact, who likes to pretend she's badass. Nobody is fooled.
Ruth- Ruth is famous for dating an ex-library worker we had dubbed "Scary-Kevin". And scary he was. Now she's just a cute shy little homeschooled girl who doesn't date anyone. She comes by my dungeon when she's bored or tired and chats with me and looks at my stalkery pictures of Downers and tells me how hot she thinks burra is. We have fun, Ruth and I.
Kelly- Kelly is an education major. Beyond that, she is largely a mystery to me.
John Paul- John Paul is unique. He's a double major in history and philosophy, and he is the nephew of Tim the Elder. Like his Uncle Tim, JP is an absolute sponge for useless facts. He is also a machine-like worker, who never talks and has a toothbrushing fixation. However, to paint a slightly different picture of the creature we know as JohnPaul (who hates being called JP, but mostly I can't resist anyway), he also has a cutting sense of humor, looks exactly like Prince William, and is often very companionable if you can catch him in a talking mood. Yet added to all this, he delights in catching me slacking and does it often, and he always makes me feel like an idiot, though I'm sure I don't know why. So the verdict is not yet in on JP. Updates coming as they are reported.
Jeff- Supposedly there's a creature called Jeff working here. I've not seen him, yet, methinks he's rather late for work.
Well, as this is all I'm planning to write for today, I hope you found this little tutorial enlightening, and I further hope that you laughed. We are ridiculous people around here, of course.
Sophia
Currently Playing:
The Bends
By Radiohead
Fake Plastic Trees
7:30 PM
A Much Needed Update:
Originally posted: Friday, June 20, 2003
Sarie Sarie Quite Contrary, how does your garden grow?
Angst Angst everywhere and not a drop to drink! (dammit)
Yes, it's been a real interesting day, beginning with a sore throat and a migraine, followed by a chat with my mother, and wrapped up beautifully by a fight with some RPGs and turmoil in the chatroom. Why do I bother with these things? Ack, because I love my Flekkies... :-p
But it was truly a rewarding day, involving a lovely chat with Bruce, which lifts my spirits immesurably, and another with Orald. Not quite as fun as exchanging weird stories with burra, but almost.
Note to the unenlightened:
I am the queen of the unenlightened, therefore, it follows logically that I will nearly always use nicks in talking about the flekkies, as most of their real names I don't even know. And those I do know, I don't use. Is Sophia down a rung or two on the Flekkie ladder of fame? Yes. But it will clear up in a month or two I'm sure.
Current exercises: Chasing Joel as though I'll someday get him (pfft), Making a mad attempt at keeping up with Pio in RPG posting quality, frequency, and complexity (another completely vain endeavor), and attempting to work at least 20 hours this week in spite of the migraines which are becoming constant. Why am I doomed to failure whenever I try anything? :-p And why, oh why does Beren-freakin-87 persist in calling me Sara in the public chat? I may be Sara, but that's really none of his business.
I am the queen of scowling, stomping, and kicking things. Watch out tresspassers.
Currently Reading: The Ultimate Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy
Originally Posted: Wednesday, June 18, 2003
Vogon Poetry in Motion
Aaah, the life of a girl who has to work 10.5 hours in the archives all at once. The brains of said girl scramble faster than the old "your brain on drugs" commercials. *steps back and watches her brains sizzling on the back burner* Oooh, wah! I hope I never see another file folder or paperclip ever again!
So an old lady has come in to help out. She's a nice old lady, name's Lois, and she's been all over the entire world. Couldn't believe the places she's been. She comes in wearing some watch from avon, with her hair looking like she has it set once a week and doesn't wash in between, in one of those granny blouses and matching skirt, and talks about her time in Russia and the Dominican Republic, and China. This is one girl who's jaw dropped open with sheer envy.
List of things in the package my mom sent (I my mom):
Cheez-its
Goldfish crackers
Pepperidge Farm Cookies
Tuna Fish
Real live blueberry jam from Maine!!!!
Pineapple
Mandarin Oranges
and a bunch of other stuff... up to and including TicTacs...
A very good day, made truly great by the advent of tictacs. *A sigh of Contentment...*
Currently Watching: Star Wars - Episode I, The Phantom Menace (Widescreen Edition)
Originally Posted: Tuesday, June 17, 2003
Well, here I am, starting a blog on Xanga, when I already have one on blogspot. If you would like to visit the ole site (which I am quite fond of, and will henceforth be updating at the same time as I do this one) the address is http://aturbulentwind.blogspot.com . Going there is highly recommended if you want to get a feel for what I typically put up here.
As for what I've done of late, today I took a sick day, and had the great adventure of staying online all day. It's something I do rather regularly, so it's ceased to be terribly exciting. But still, I sometimes find it rewarding.
Yesterday, yesterday on the other hand, was an adventure of the highest order. I went as a chaperone with a kids group to Cedar Point ("America's Roller Coast"). However irresponsible college students may be, married couples who pretend to be chaperones to get a cheap vacation are indefinately worse. Not only did they leave a kid in a rest area, they insisted on speeding, pouted and threw a fit when the group said they were leaving, and let "Makeout Couple" wander off by themselves. Now what "Makeout Couple" do on their own time is one thing, but I do not want Park officials finding them doing whatever the heck they do behind a rollercoaster...
Gr. So, the long and short of it being that I spent mucho dinero on a trip in which I had no fun and babysat the adults much more than the children.
New Resolution: Don't go to amusement parks without a hot boy to win a giant stuffed Animal (Muppet) for me.
Currently Playing: Coldplay- Parachutes - Spies
3:59 AM
Thursday, June 12, 2003
John Paul update:
John Paul is the weirdest creature on the planet. Perfectly content to sit in silence until the time is right, this creature of the twilight has an uncanny knack for catching me in compromising situations. For example, playing snood. He's a creature of habit, moving cautiously through the library, carefully avoiding anything that looks human. He's thoroughly uncomfortable forced to sit in a room with me, but yet, the routine of blindly pulling staples seems to agree with him. He does, however, get distinctly irritated when Tim the Younger (not my boss- the computer fixing guy) pokes his head in to say hi to me as usual. *Dear Heavens, let him not be in love with me...* I think it violates JP's work ethic. Who would name their kid after a pope anyway? No wonder he's a little out of it. Probably thinks he's infallible.
2:24 AM
Sunday, June 08, 2003
The Scent of Simbelmyne
It's been rather a while since I was last sighted around here. Odd, since I'm usually the only moving creature sighted around here. Since then I've achieved my lifelong goal of acquiring a Personal Title on the Downs Forum. Time to pick a new lifetime goal I suppose. Updates in the rather boring life of Sophia include the following:
1) The unwelcome addition of three roommates to my cozy home. (One being red haired, Hawaiian, and NOT a musician. However, she thinks she is one, and I've thus far not been able to persuade her otherwise. As we speak I can hear her clumsy guitar playing and very off key falsetto singing. I might die.)
2) The addition of one John Paul to the archives staff. Expect an entire article about my first day with John Paul. The adventure begins Monday.
3) The discovery that I in fact adore rollercoasters. This was shocking news to say the least, though I'm quite thrilled about it.
So of late I've spent a disproportionate amount of time escaping. First there's escaping from Cindy, who always wants to look over my shoulder as I happily play scrabble, or breathe on me with her unpleasantly scented breath. Then there's escaping from Tim (*coughbosscough*), because if I hold still long enough he's bound to talk my ear off, and then when would I have an opportunity to read Harry Potter instead of doing archive work? If I'm not going to be doing archive work either way, I'd much rather be reading good ole HP than talking to Tim about whether or not Seminar in Gender Issues is going to be a productive class. (IT IS NOT)
Department War: or the story of Gender Issues
Why does the psych department hate us? Why do we hate the psych department? I can't answer that question with any certainty. I'm reasonably sure, however, that any self respecting psych major at Bethel would be able to BS an answer in a split second. Why? Because for some inexplicable reason the psych department hasn't caught on to postmodernism yet. They still think the answer to everything must be black and white. So we throw together a psych prof who terrifies the living daylights out of all students who know what they're talking about, and a philosophy prof who is the most idealistic man on the planet. This can only be a recipe for disaster. Tim (yes, boss = prof) makes a valiant attempt to lead us in an honest subjective discussion about the difference between the genders and why it's there and whether it will ever not be there. This is all well and good, until Tim begins his usual ramblings, most likely involving Jamaica or how best to use shocking words like "penis" in a conservative christian classroom setting. Then the psych majors will claim us. Discussions of objective proof and scientific experimentation will take over. They'll never stop to question their objectivity or the nature of proof. That's the way it is in their textbooks after all. And in the end, we all turn in neatly typed papers in flawless APA format (all beginning with "Running Head:" as all good papers should, of course), which are judged on our ability to comprehend and regurgitate certain ideas, with no regard as to how we think, argue, and express ourselves. Hell is like a psychology course, I think.
5:23 PM
Tuesday, May 27, 2003
Recieved a very very nice message. My life, which has not been easy recently, has just been made better.
The amount of Christian Downers that are out there floating around sending me very encouraging pms is amazing. I truly appreciate these people, cause there's really not much I'm getting out of anywhere else. The list, which currently is partial includes:
Diamond
Iarwain
the phantom
Helen
Alaklondewen
lindil
*sighs* no wonder I'm addicted to that place.
Sophia
2:23 AM
Monday, May 26, 2003
I want to bring this old post back to the top. Just so that I can think about it harder, and consider:
from 4/23/03-
I go looking for mysticism, a God who moves my emotions. I go looking for structure, I crave discipline. Personal contact between my Lord and I is at an all time low. My friends are converting to Catholicism at an amazing rate. The temptation for me is incredible. I want to fly to a place of ritual and mystery, an evocative haven where my God can be God and I am free to not understand. Where repetition enhances faith and there is glory in liturgy. I want my religion with candles and incense and confessions. I want to be secluded from the world in some tower, some Julian-of-Norwich fantasy, me and Christ, alone at last.
Why do I want this so badly? This isn't me, it isn't my east coast- protestant- nondenom. faith of childhood. Am I wanting to coddle myself in the arms of structure and guidance, is this a refusal to mature? I want it to be real, the "dark night of the soul" (St. John of the Cross anyone?) may be a growing time, but oh I want to grow out of this one. I am tired of doubting myself, tired of waking up every morning and finding assent to be so effortless, but belief so hard. I am tired of complacency and tired of effort. Where has my joy gone?
This has been how I've felt for a very long time. The light at the end of the tunnel is bright, but from this deep in, it's hard to tell whether I'm really seeing it or whether it's my frustrated eyes playing tricks in the dark. Please, may it this time be real!
4:04 AM
Sunday, May 25, 2003
And So it Begins...
So this book... I finally understand. At least understanding is beginning to form somewhere in me. I don't really entirely know what's going on, but there's a feeling of relief that's building up with every page that I turn. Let me quote myself, from Apr. 24:
I am so frustrated, I just can't do it! I have tried so hard...
the more I know the less I seem to understand
and I can't make myself feel...
It's been so long since I've felt anything besides spiritual despair.
It's late at night, and I'm trying to write deep posts on my spiritual
life and why I don't have one.
So what do I do? Lord? what do I do? I can't even pray...
I don't even have the attention span to pray...
pray without ceasing my butt.
I've tried thinking my way out, I've tried gratitude, I've tried
inspirational reading, I've tried devotionals, conversation, worship...
I've tried shocking my way out, tried outright rebellion.
Dammit! I'm dry! I'm so dry.
Why am I so burned out? I can't articulate this relief I'm finding. But I've realized something precious. Worship, prayer, isn't something I do. It's something Christ does for me. I don't have to do it, I don't have to keep trying and trying and finding myself back at my pitiful beginnings. I don't have to keep worrying about why I can't express myself to God in language that says what I feel. Christ is my intercessor. He's there to not only bring God to me, but to step in for me where I lack entirely, his submission is my submission, and his righteousness mine. How could I not have found this before.
The realization is so vast. I can barely comprehend it. Christ didn't make a way for me to get to God and then leave me to follow that way on my own. Christ is the way for me to get to God, he is the way! I could dance.
Here's the book (Worship, Community, and the Triune God of Grace), and here's the wonderful person who lent it to me (Joel-- and no, the girl in the picture is not me). I heartily advise that anyone looking for something different, something real, something personal grab this.
Sophia
7:55 PM
Saturday, May 24, 2003
Today has been filled with thoughts. Masses of them in fact. Joel's lent me this book on trinitarian theology. I really can't afford this kind of mental quest, because I know I'll get sucked in and never escape from it. Still haven't resolved the last crisis I got myself into, just burned out on the whole idea.
So this book is full of terminology. And just like in an ASL class, they don't explain complicated looking signs, they just repeat them over and over again, as though that somehow will cause you to understand. The one bit of terminology this books feels like repeating ad nauseum is as follows: "Worship is the gift of participating through the Spirit in the incarnate Son's communion with the Father". Can you define participating through the Spirit in the incarnate Son's communion with the Father?? I for one have no concept of what that means... absolutely none. There is nothing in the realm of my experience or imagination that remotely corresponds to it, and I absolutely don't know what on earth he means by it. And instead of telling me, he just says it a zillion times in every passage. Grr, theologians! I'm going to hang it all up and embrace Fideism here.
So I spend the night wrapped in Joel's blanket. This sounds odd, I know, but it is entirely due to the fact that Ms. Macho (me) figured summer in Indiana would be nothing compared to winter in Maine, and packed up all but one of her blankets for storage. It's proved a mistake, and so now I must borrow. And borrow I've done. It's only an added bonus that it's delightfully man scented- for the time being at least.
A new favorite quote:
" My candle burns at both ends, it will not last the night; but, ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--it gives a lovely light!"
- Edna St. Vicent Millay
2:23 AM
Friday, May 23, 2003
Gar! (<- my word of the week) Groceries are ungodly expensive. But I suppose I can handle that, as much of what I do lately is apparently ungodly. I spent thirty bucks on some salad, some cheese, two frozen pizzas, some popsicles and other random small objects. Why the heck is it so expensive (aside from the fact that I like expensive popsicles)?
So my serious musings on life, which this site was intended to portray, seem to have gone rather awry. This is likely due to the fact that I rarely muse on anything serious now. It seems that my entire life is dedicated to the worthless perusal of missionary personnel files. Other than knowing some very scandalous denominational gossip, this doesn't do a whole lot for the state of my brain. Lately I've felt mushy between the ears to say the least. Unfortunately as I'm due for a long academic career (PhD bound), that brain's rather important to my ultimate success. I should really keep it in better shape. Wouldn't want it to have a heart attack or something.
So to rectify this brain-fat trend, I'm going to embark on a serious reading regimen. I should read a bit of Tolkien of course, for otherwise I wouldn't be worthy of the title of Barrowdowner, which hopefully I still deserve. But other than that, I should also be perusing a bit of theology. Joel (see the infamous list) has lent me a book on Trinitarian theology that I hope will inspire some sort of intellectual quest that sadly, won't have any effect on my complacent present state, but might jolt my brain out of it's numbness. Hopefully something will, as I'd hate to go back into a philosophy course this fall with no reading more strenuous than my own RPG posts. *shudders*
My mother's feeling really down. If I have any non-readers out there, do keep her in prayers. Her family's taking a ridiculous beating of late. Nanna died in March, and mum's not feeling real good about that (you blame her?), and then a few weeks ago, her uncle, Bill keeled over in his car. The last of her remaining family's gone as her dad died when I was ten. All the land around our house has been in the family for years, but now Bill's wife will have it and likely there'll be a housing development put in. My beautiful fields and woods and trees. Gar, how dare they build houses on my paradise? But Mum's upset, and she should be. Don't know what to do about it. I'm too far away to be much comfort.
I want a dog. Unfortunately I live on a college campus, so this longing is likely to be unfulfilled for a while yet. But if I can't have a boy to lie across my lap and mutter sweet drunken phrases, then a dog would be the second best thing. Loyal and cosy, yet it can't talk your ear off. I'd like a dog. Anyhow, that's all for the mad ramblings tonight (as I'm off to wrap myself in Joel's man-scented blanket and hopefully get a little sleep- Gar, I wish the smell would stay on it longer. Perhaps I could give it back and ask him to sleep with it a bit?) ah, yes- but the mad ramblings, expect more tomorrow.
Sophia
3:07 AM
Thursday, May 22, 2003
What a wonderfully goofy picture of me. I love it. Wanted to put it right on the page, but unfortunately, it simply won't go. It seems I have to pay lots of money for that kind of service. *Sniffs* There's always later, when I'm rich, famous, and write interesting enough things in here that I dare leak the link out to a person or two. LOL
12:33 AM
Wednesday, May 21, 2003
Gar, what a horrible couple of days it's been. I've done crap work and I'm feeling so guilty about not doing it better. *sighs heavily* For those of you who aren't reading this who don't know, I work in my college's library as an archival assistant. Although slack-off is a better term for what I've done in the last couple of days. Besides browsing the downs I've also done a fair amount of chit chatting, planned an RPG proposal, made an elaborate slideshow screensaver, and entered lyrics for a Beatles CD into my computer. Not to mention sleeping an hour on Monday. No wonder I feel like crap about my job! I don't do it. And as proof positive of that, I got caught on the Downs at work and overheard a serious conversation about it. Nobody said anything to me, and later I had an amiable chat with my boss, and he didn't mention it, so I suppose I'm alright. But still, this was how I felt about it.
My granparents were here last night, which was super nice, and they left me a little of this. I was quite pleased about that... But as though on cue, just to lower my spirits I checked my Barrow-Downs Private Messages, and alas, there was a lovely note from a moderator warning me to keep it on topic. This is what lowers your spirits?! You ask incredulously. But yes, in fact, it makes me feel like scum. I have very few pastimes or interests at the moment, and one of them is The Downs. Considering I pay far more attention to what's happening on their forum than I do to what's happening in my real life, this PM business was quite a blow. Gar, and I try so hard to write valuable things... really I do. The inequality of it rather peeves me. I'd like to point out that there are people that make a lifetime habit of posting off topically and never do anything but chat, and I get a PM about it?! *sighs* I hope they sent one to some of the others.
Agh, I really ought to break this Barrowdowns addiction before it breaks me. I sent them money today, and I'd like to send more. This is terribly unfortunate. I certainly don't have spare money just laying around asking to be donated. In fact, I could use a little more of it. But, it's done now, and I barely regret it, so... :D
10:14 PM
Sunday, May 18, 2003
Well, after my serious crisis of last month, I'm less than pleased to announce that I have returned (not without some remorse) to my previous complacent ways. I irritate myself in my halfheartedness, but alack, if a speeding truck an inch from my face can't shake me out of it, I may be doomed.
I've set up housekeeping in a convenient little place, cosy, ant filled, and rather empty owing to my total lack of furniture, but still nice. I call it my "hut" an apt description, and I'm slowly watching the inevitable transfer of all my Tolkien books from my desk in the bedroom to the floor beside my computer. It's happening as we speak- *insert creepy music here*.
But aside from the ants and the mushy floor around the toilet in the bathroom, and the fact that if I don't do the dishes soon I'll be eating with my hands; things are going rather well, and I quite like my humble abode. My bedroom is a tiny little hole off the living room, it's peaceful enough, if Peeve doesn't set up too much of a racket (Peeve being my most loyal subject, a fish).
12:05 AM
Monday, May 05, 2003
Aaah, too long too long since I've been here. The Barrowdowns, the place where I seem to live lately has been taking up all my time in fits of drunken online madness. What I really think about this remains comfortably undetermined. I don't know if I've ever felt this popular (which is super sad). But it's so nice, I can flirt, I can talk like I know what I'm talking about, and my Private Message Box fills up with newcomers asking me for advice. *sighs* I am addicted.
I wish I could make a poll on here... or rather, I wish I knew how to make a poll on here. I'd quiz all my non-readers about which person I should add to my "people who inspire me" list. Your choices are Alaklondewen, Annunfuiniel, The Saucepan Man, Fin, Lush (whose fun rampages on her blog inspired my comparatively tame one) and Mithadan. Perhaps all of them deserve a spot... hm... *rubs chin reflectively*
10:20 PM
Thursday, April 24, 2003
Aah shit!
Talk about a day... In Chicago, wandering aimlessly around Navy Pier for a few hours. Caught a Shakespeare play (to be referred to henceforth as Shkspr) at the theater. It's coincidentally Shkspr's birthday. And so I get on the college bus, head back... Wham! theres a friggin semi an inch from the window where my face was. An inch. I was nearly truck paint. *shuddering from head to toe*
And so, in the soul-searching conversation that always follows a near death experience, I analyzed my need for mysticism. I'm a critic, I think, I analyze, I'm analyzing now. I can't respect God until I understand him. I can't physically let go of my mental need for knowledge and certainty enough to achieve that mystery, that faith and ritual. I can't let my emotions loose on a quest I can't logically back up. I can't respect myself or God if I can't know truth. I want to have my mystery, but to be able to justify it, I want to feel rational believing it. I don't have any use for the subjective. I want to have all that stuff I talked about yesterday, all those nice feelings, the emotion, the wonder. I can't allow it... this is fairly upsetting to me.
Dammit, I'm swearing in a post about God. All I've wanted to do all day is curse, and it's working out nicely for me, opportunity after opportunity presents itself.
I am so frustrated, I just can't do it! I have tried so hard... the more I know the less I seem to understand and I can't make myself feel... It's been so long since I've felt anything besides spiritual despair. It's late at night, and I'm trying to write deep posts on my spiritual life and why I don't have one.
So what do I do? Lord? what do I do? I can't even pray... I don't even have the attention span to pray... pray without ceasing my butt. I've tried thinking my way out, I've tried gratitude, I've tried inspirational reading, I've tried devotionals, conversation, worship... I've tried shocking my way out, tried outright rebellion. Dammit! I'm dry! I'm so dry. there's a knot in my throat the size of a baseball, why can't I even cry?
Hungry I run to you
For I know
You satisfy....
I am empty but I know
Your love, does not run dry...
So I wait, for you....
So I wait, for you....
Still waiting. Come, Lord Jesus, come..
1:53 AM
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