the rose of kiev

One final paper down, one to go. And what am I doing? Stringing popcorn for the first time and learning that egg nog tastes better with a splash of bacardi. What a marvelous night. After such a strange couple of weeks, I was filled with such happiness tonight. My roommates and I, we bought our Christmas tree tonight and had Decemberfest. Now the monthly 'fest is a time-honored tradition, begun in October of 2006 the month after I moved into the ministry house. Chan came tearing up to the attic of the house (the first one I lived in for three short months) screeching "OKTOBERFEST!!" at the top of her lungs. Coming cautiously downstairs after the invasion, Carrie and Chandra met everyone in the kitchen with autumn-flavored beer; it was a good night. And every month now, they try to have a 'fest, announced the same way each time. After our newest month-old roommate Claire texted us and told us that a friend of hers was able to get us a free tree, all seven of us straggle...

So it's been a weird week for me, as a writer. When I call myself a writer, I mean that in a professionally amateur sense. I have never made a dime from the thousands of pages I've written, nor have I tried to. I simply mean "writer" in the sense that it is a need, a building tension and pressure that requires daily outlet of some sort. It is my way of organizing myself, of knowing myself. If it's not written down, it's forgotten and I cannot learn from it. So I'm always writing. As a writer, it has been a weird week. I am in that awkward transition between journals, which to me is like moving to a new house. I don't know where anything is in this new journal, I left some stuff behind in the move and have to keep going back and forth, and it's not really home yet. It's going from the buzz of being mere pages from the completion to the barrier of a lot of bare pages to fill all over again. That, and my other important journal was left behind in ...

So one of the things that Dave and I do is argue about is the definition of words. Most of the time the way it'll come up is that I will try to use a big word while talking to him and he'll narrow his eyes to slits and accuse me of using it incorrectly or making it up entirely. You'd think that myself being the Journalism major and he being the Mechanical Engineering major I'd win most if not all of the time. However, I would be lying if I told you that. He kicks my ass more often than not. A while back I used the word "fastidious", and narrowing those pretty green eyes suspiciously he proclaimed that I had used it incorrectly. Affronted, I told him that I have come across it more than once in a book and the context was always used to refer to extreme cleanliness, as in "her kitchen was always fastidiously kept" referring to its extreme lack of bacteria. However, he insisted that it was a much more general term and as the argument continued we were f...

Expect me to be blogging more now that I have here, cradled in my lap, my cousin's old Apple laptop (cue angel choir). After exactly one year of independence (I moved out on September 17th 2006) with an old mutt desktop that never really got to have a prime time of life before it passed it, I now have a damn good computer. Brian, since he just bought a newer better computer, deigned to give me his old laptop. I couldn't care how old it is as long as it does what I need it to, and man does this baby get the job done and more. I don't know how to handle all this sudden access to the internet. Introductory ramble aside, let me get to the real point of this blog - to catch you up on other things far more important. For starters: Let it be known that on September the second two-thousand-and-seven on the bench on walkway number eleven-thirty-seven at Holden Beach, North Carolina David McCray told me he loved me for the first time in words. That's just the kind of thing that d...

A lot can happen in a month. Things like moving into a new beautiful house. Things like getting my hair cut shorter than I've ever had it before. Things like bringing up that awesomely weighty "M" word. Yeah. Things like that. A lot has changed in a month, my address (again) for example, but on the other hand you'd really have to look closely to see what changes are taking place. They're subtle - so subtle that I find myself relying on comparison and restrospect to see the place I'm at now. I've become more mature, more responsible. But on the flip side of that coin I'm more vulnerable, and sillier with my roommates. Dave and I are having more conversations that are difficult or emotional. But then again I've never been more grateful than now for our relationship and its balance. I've been falling out of the Tree of Life Bible class homework habits and am starting to fall in love with God's written word. I've never before woken up so ma...

Let me tell you the story of the pictures. My digital camera is a hand-me-down. I have no problem with that - at least 50% of my wardrobe came from the thrift store and I'll brag about it whenever given the chance. The only time I have problems with it is when it shows its age. See, my little Canon Powershot S110 first came out in 2001, so my baby is six years old. And sometimes she can't help but show the stretch marks and crow's feet. I deliberately brought the software and connector cable for my camera down to Florida with me, having every intention of unloading my pictures onto the internet as soon as my memory card filled up. Which doesn't take long, because it's only got memory enough for 60 snapshots. So here I am, half-way through my vacation with no memory left for the second half, and naturally I try to unload the camera. Well, an hour later, I realize it can't be done. I brought the wrong disc and it took an hour to just figure that out. Dashing off w...

There was something special about the past two days. Last night I was running late on the way to a graduation party in Westerville with Dana after a quick fuel-up and some beef jerky. It was a beautiful June evening and we had Barenaked Ladies cranked up, and as I gasped at the sight of the sparkling water in the dam before us, Dana shouted "DETOUR!" and took a sharp left into the dam park's parking lot. Walking to the near edge of the construction, we looked down in awe at the monstrous stream of water gushing from the concrete side into a calm shallow pool with tiny herons floating in it. Walking back, I glanced to the side of the path on the other side of the guard rails and saw hundreds of little wild daisies. And since daisies are my favorite flowers, I went scrambling over the railing to pick some, skirt and heels and everything. Dana followed me over, and as I plucked a blade of grass to tie around my bouquet she leaned against the guard rail and began to make a d...

I've started the good habit of getting outside and going for a jog every other morning, and boy can I tell you what a world of difference it makes for the rest of my day. In using more energy early in the day, for some reason I feel like I have more of it later in the evening. I love it. Since I took my last final and the Red Cross sucked out a pint of my blood yesterday, I just went for a walk this morning. And every morning I realize how much I love where I live, especially because every street is drenched with the signs of summer. Crossing a bridge on Indianola I noticed the steps that go down into Glen Echo park and, heck I don't have anything to do today, so on a whim I went down, away from the traffic and the early humidity. Wow. The things God makes for us. Dark green light was everywhere as the sun filtered through the leaves onto the gravel path and I was overwhelmed with that summer morning scent - you know, that sweet smell of evaporating dew and cool bark? Immediate...

I think I know part of why I haven't been writing lately. And it's going to sound like a lame excuse - probably because that's exactly what it is. While I'm on the internet often enough to write something, I choose not to because I can't think of what I want to write. I want to write something that was important or funny to me, an anecdote that has a good ending. But I don't feel like my stories have endings - I feel like I'm in the middle of all of them. I could tell you about how the summer, AKA shorts season, has made me want to swear an oath of pants for the rest of my life. I'll get questionable compliments from middle-aged balding men who saw me walk to work in said shorts and have this smile on that just assures me oh-so-sweetly that they're thinking of me in those shorts right at that moment. Or Lenny who rides the bus the same time as me on Thursdays and begins every conversation with questions about my workout routine, until he shows me his...

I am tired but I am good. So, Easter Sunday my mother had a miscarriage. A couple days later I went to a funeral of a friend of the family. And then this past Sunday I had to rush out of work crying and and get myself up to Akron to visit my grandfather, now in the hospital for the third time this past month, this time for blood clots in his lungs. Yeah, the emotional fuel tank? Definetely riding on "E" right now. The good thing about bad news though - when the good news does come, it's just that much sweeter, that much more noticable. Like the doctors tumbling into the roiling mass of family in my grandfather's hospital room 5 minutes before I left to let us all know that his prognosis is good and they had a method of treatment in mind. After 24 hours of my grandmother's micromanagement and my uncle bickering with his mother about where I slept at the house (oddly enough, I played a very little role in that discussion) and the everlasting waiting game that is hos...

This past Saturday was wonderful. I watched the April snow over a bowl of the best granola the Short North has to offer. Covering the fresh pieces of pear with yogurt, I reveled in the morning. Tricia and Lisa drove down to spend some time with me before Tricia headed back west to college and California, and I loved every moment of my time with them. They sang outloud in the car together, harmonizing, and I closed my eyes and listened to them, trying to memorize the warmth of their voices. I spend such infrequent time with them. And then I spent time with Dave. After attending to some gun business (specifically the upper receiver for his AR-15 parts kit, not that that means a thing to you) we drove to Easton and spent a wintry April day ice skating at the Chiller. Much to our surprise, we didn't spend a majority of the time sprawled on the ice or collecting nasty bruises, but did ourselves proud. Dave did have a pretty good wipe-out trying to take a turn too sharp and fast, and as ...

Every time I get on the computer I browse this site only for my links, thinking "I'll get around to writing on it, I just don't have the time right now." Halfway to math class, my thoughts decidedly not math-like, I realized that I will never blog if I never decide on at least one specific time to do it. So I've set a time for myself and I promise to write something AT LEAST once a week. Be sure you hold me to it, too. By the way, this April snow thing? Not liking it so much. And if my 20th birthday on the 30th of this month is white, someone owes me BIG time. ...And no, I don't count this as my one post of the week. This is merely a reminder to guilt me into writing something real later.

Now comes the obligatory sigh - FINALS ARE OVER. In a matter of moments a book that was so invaluable I could not have lived without became worth only what I can get at the bookstore for buybacks. I'm allowed to go outside and enjoy the warm Spring evening now and extricate my face from the pages of Greek history and the Italian Renaissance and other such old things. As of five minutes ago, my Spring Break began and it feels GOOD. Watch Ohio turn nasty on me just as soon as I can spend copious time outside - it's the way the weather here works. Oh well - if it does, it's a sign that there is other stuff I need to catch up on, even though all of it would be more enjoyable from my front porch, insane neighbor kids and all. For the first time I've been in school, the end of the quarter was rather bittersweet. Yesterday was my final for my theater class - the one we'd all been dreading, because it would be the last day we would all really be together. My life has change...

The weather on Friday made me realize I always wanted a porch. Not a house necessarily, but definetely a porch. It was the first real day of Spring, regardless of calendar timelines, and the neighbor kids were tearing across the front lawns, screaming and throwing footballs and doing stupid things involving skateboards and stairs as their mother lit a cigarette and watched. The sun was beginning to sink, but all the houses on the East side (my side) of the street are up on this hill that gives the front of our houses an extra wash of sun that's a special treat. I had a textbook open on my lap but I couldn't focus on it. I just loved the feeling of the sun on my face and watching the band boys across the street trickle out together to smoke and chill. There are at least 6 houses on my side of the street that are nearly identical in build - same hill, same height, same porches. If you sit and look on either side, the houses are so close that the porches all seem to run together i...

My days have never been packed so full, but also have I never felt so full of contentment as well. Lately it feels like all my days are nonstop and my house is merely a place for storing food and crashing for a few hours between days. Typically, as unorganized as I usually am, my schedule falls apart and there's not enough time for enough things; however, necessity has taught me a little discipline and when I'm busy now I just feel like I'm using all the time God gave me. Yesterday was one of those days. Out the door before 9 for the bus ride to school, I got to my first class early and studied. Then the hour between classes I rehearsed for a skit in theater with a guy whose partner had gone out of town, my rumbling stomach only pacified with a few pretzels. Then, during the mid-class smokers' break in my theater class (what is it about actors and cigarettes, anyways?) this girl in class starts talking to me. Really talking to me. My housewarming party a few weekends ag...

It's amazing what a month can do. Battling breezy negative-degree temperatures, I struggled my way to class this morning, frigid and tired and irritable. As I walked up the stairs to my morning class, triumphantly tugging my scarf with the air of one who has SURVIVED and done it 10 minutes earlier than usual, I head for the door but stop short at the threshold - a pink flyer on the door cordially informs me that class is cancelled for today, please be sure to read the required material. Figures. So now I'm in the library, taking a break from my desperate quarter-long game of catch-up. I'm making it sound too dramatic, but I do feel like a little kid walking hand-in-hand with dad, my strides just a little too short to keep up with his, every couple of steps forced to jog a little to catch-up. Yeah, I know, me and my legs are short so I should be used to this, but you know what I mean. I have to choose which times I want to hangout with my friends more and sacrafice the other...

Well, my thoroughly insane week has begun. Yesterday I woke up at nine and was packing boxes by ten. At the end of the day, after hours of boxing and even a few hours at work, I crashed in my bed in a different house I will soon learn to call home. The morning was a flurry of activity, more and more people coming upstairs and requesting more stuff to move because their pick-ups or cars could fit something else. All the boys helping us 3 girls move were patient and gracious and volunteered to be at our mercy as long as we requested their man muscles and man cars. Just before one'o'clock and shortly after the majority of my stuff had been carted from the house on Dayton Dave took me to work. All day I campaigned to my boss to please please let me go home early, it's not too busy up here, please please I'm trying to move today and you've already consciously overscheduled me on the first week of winter quarter please please don't add inhumanity to your long list of ...