Work Was A Total Buzz-Kill Today

quitquitquitquitquitquitquitquitquitquit

I love it. Available here from EstaSketch.

Confusion

I've been considering grad school for about 2 years now. Almost exactly 2 years. 2 years ago this week, in fact. At some points the process has been fun and exciting, but I'd say mostly it's been real confusing. I haven't been able to decide on a school or program, and after about a year and a half of grappling with indecision, I decided to call the whole thing off. Indecision was giving way to panic and stress, and the toll on my well-being was just too high.

If you're heading in one direction for two years, then the road seemingly ends, you're left kind of standing around with one question running circles through your head: "Well, what now?" If you're like me, you may also throw some expletives in there. I'm talking words like "heck" and "freaking," and maybe even some saltier ones as well. Sailor speak. And I think that's ok. Sometimes the situation warrants it.

So, you go back and review the journey. Did you do something wrong? Did you miss a sign? Make a wrong decision somewhere? I've spent time these last 2 weeks being a little heartsick over a school I ruled out early on in this process. This is a great school in a great town with great people turning out great scholarship. I really admire it. I applied, I got accepted, I visited, I liked it, I...withdrew my application. Something just didn't feel right.

And today I sat, pouring over the school's latest newsletter when I should have been doing other things, and wondering if I made a wrong decision. This school is so great - why wasn't it the one for me? In some aspects it has most everything I was looking for in a school; why am I not there right now? I'm confused, y'all. Real confused. Perplexed. Flummoxed, even.

In these last days of Holy Week, before we get to the rejoicing that is Easter, I often try to focus my mind on the gravity and darkness of the 3 days preceding. I ask myself, "What were the disciples doing at this point? What were they feeling and thinking after witnessing the crucifixion, not yet knowing that resurrection was around the corner?" I think confusion is a fair guess, if not a total understatement. I bet they were thinking, "This wasn't supposed to happen! Our journey with Jesus wasn't supposed to end this way!"

Now, I'm not comparing, apples-to-apples, my grad school situation with the disciples' confusion over the horror of the crucifixion. No way, no how. But still, I was reminded today that confusion isn't an unfamiliar entity in the life of a Christian. We're not promised answers, and we don't always get them. I don't know what happened with my grad school process, and I don't know what's going to happen next for me. Times of confusion are a part of this life. But so, too, is the resurrection.

Looking forward to tomorrow...

Once Upon A Time...

In the days of yore, back back way back in the days of my youth, on St. Patrick's Day my mom would make corned beef and put green food coloring in my brother's and my milk. Green milk! We thought it was the coolest. Now the thought makes me gag. But it's a fond kind of gagging. Ah, sweet memories of youth.

On a related note, don't you think all grocery stores should have a mandatory sale on Lucky Charms for St. Patrick's Day? 'Cause I do. And I'm pretty sure St. Pat would agree with me. Dreaming of those magically delicious marshmallows...

By the way, I changed my name to Trixie Catherine O'Lowski (for today only) in hopes that Sean Connery would show up and sing me this song. No such luck (o' the Irish). Maybe next year!

PSA's

We interrupt our own study session to bring you these important public service announcements:

#1) Today is March 15th, aka the Ides of March, aka the day when Julius Caesar "bit it" (as they said in Roman times). Beware, beware, all ye Caesar-loving Shakespeare-reading superstitious types! Auspicious, indeed.

#2) Making your bed is a Good Thing. No really, yo' momma wasn't lying to you all those years. I myself have fought this basic house-keeping tenet for most of my life - why bother making it if I was only going to un-make it later? It was a noble protest in the name of efficiency (and certainly had nothing to do with laziness, nope). But today I was compelled to straighten out the twisted chaos of sheets & covers (could this be a metaphor for my current internal state? hmmm...), realign the pillows and set aright my bed in proper order. And I feel much better about life, myself, my weekend, the current state of world affairs in general, etc. Miraculous! You should try it. Probably you already do, because you are a civilized human being. But if you're a member of the efficiency camp like I was - seriously. Seriously. Cross over to the other side with me. You'll never look back.

Hopelessly Devoted

My mom says I need to find 1-2 things each day for which to be grateful. This is loving mom-speak for "Quit your friggin' whining already!" And I suppose she has a point.

Today, I wish to express my gratitude for Nature Valley's Sweet & Salty Peanut granola bars. I consume one of these delish snacky-snacks just about each weekday. Sometimes it is the highlight of my afternoon. But oh no - that is just too sad. I didn't say that. Still...they are quite good. You should try one! (I promise Nature Valley didn't pay me to write these words. They come straight from my heart.)

You Know You Wanna Know

Oh, I was sad when I woke up this morning. Monday. Yeah, I remember what I said before about not living for the weekends and trying to find joy in present moments during the weekdays. But I may not have the strength of character for that level of positivity this morning. Allow me to recap my weekend for you. Humor me - I’m dwelling in the past to avoid fully facing Monday.

My one goal for Saturday: do copious amounts of school work! To ensure an early start and remove any temptation for sleeping in, I made an 8a.m. appointment at the (24/7/365) Apple store. My iPod has been talking back to me lately with dirty crackly static; something needed to be done. At 7:50a.m. I was up, out, and strolling from the subway through the streets of midtown, quiet and near-empty at that time on a Saturday. As I neared the Apple store I passed the studio where CBS’ Early Show was taping; Chris Wagge (looking quite camera-ready) was standing in the window reviewing some notes. I gave a longing look to the SE corner of Central Park across the street, shrouded in mist – no time for a park-walk today – and descended beneath the street into the happy world of Apple technology. 30 minutes and 1 brand new iPod later (God bless warranties!) I emerged.

By 9am I was sitting happy, coffee in hand, at a window seat in Café Pick Me Up. I beat the rain there, and spent three hours dry, cozy, and immersed in OT theology. Good times. By noon my little brain just couldn’t take any more, though, so I swam home through the monsoon and took a break for lunch. The rest of the day was spent with my books. Dreary. But productive.

Sunday started well with church. I showed up on time for the opening music (oops, that doesn’t happen all the time) and during a song entitled “Great I AM,” CJL passed me a note with I AM written in Hebrew. Good stuff – I focused better on that God of ours, holding his name, written, in my hand. Then a guest preacher told it like it is with words that made us laugh while making me think a little more seriously about outreach than I normally do. Thanks, Reverend Doctor, for the kick towards boldness.

I spent a sunny afternoon with BethL & friends – coffee, good conversation, and a cute baby. Sweet. Afterwards BL and I had a wander through the Village and passed Chris March, a newly-discovered coffee shop, and an extraordinarily large Great Dane, though not necessarily in that order. I whiled away some evening hours with my dear Scrabble Friend – she made me Tension Tamer tea (you know I need that), told me stories of her amazing life and let me beat her at our game of Scrabble (even after I withheld a mega-point-garnering play of the word “whore” ‘cause I just wasn’t sure that was appropriate).

So Sunday was a good Sabbath play-day, following Saturday’s academic fight. And thus we turn to Monday. Current circumstances being what they are, I’m reluctant but ready (I guess) to deal with my attitude towards them. Luckily I have some help… “You restore my soul.” Here goes…

Stevie Nicks Has Nothing to Do With This

Fellow bloggers, do you ever reach a point where there is just so much you’re not saying on your blog, that you don’t quite know where/how to begin saying things again? I have a couple un-finished posts meant to tackle big issues, but they’re staying unfinished for the time being. And I had a somewhat pivotal weekend, with emotions and travel and people, but I’m not quite ready to tackle that either. And it wouldn’t make much sense anyways, perhaps, in light of all you don’t know about what preceded it (i.e. those dang unfinished posts).

Since it’s Friday, and since I have to start somewhere/somehow, and since I’ve seemingly jumped on society’s ADHD train and can’t be counted on for sustained concentration, here are some little random notas to tell you:

How I’ve been sitting very, very still all week to avoid moving my neck and experiencing that icky, gasping pain that is – well, the pain in my neck.

How I lost my driver’s license at O’Hare this weekend, but I’m totally fine about it because a) I don’t drive, and b) I lost it sometime after getting through security (whew), c) this kinda thing usually doesn’t happen to me, so the rarity makes it tolerable, and d) my license picture had me looking like a terrified refugee, circa 1890, so I wasn’t too pained to part with it. If I find a free 5 minutes in the next couple days, I’m going to meditate all over how losing my license is a plummy metaphor for losing my identity and how this plays so exactly into the theme of this past weekend. Yep.

How I can’t believe we’re Springing Forward this weekend, because didn’t we just Fall Back? And while I’ve been keen to notice the lengthening daylight each afternoon, I’m still real loath to let go of winter. Stay, cold, stay! I’m not done with you. Spring can wait.

How I may be sixty years late to the table, but I think Frank Lloyd Wright is real cool. At least, his work is cool. I hear the man behind the work was kind of a jerk, though. Bummer.

How I may be a hundred years late to the table, but I think Mark Twain is the shiz-bomb (as they say). If it’s possible to have a crush on a man who passed away in 1910, then consider me crushed.

How I have a paper to write this weekend, and more assigned reading than I care to admit to myself (denial just feels better), but nonetheless I am still quite-so-very happy that it is Friday. Here’s wishing peace and wholeness for your weekend ahead!