Well I'm becoming more familiar with html and I was able to create and label some links for y'all. If you know any other good websites worthy of recognition, let me know & I'll put them up. Still haven't figured out how to move my Archives box over to the left so the text box isn't so squished. Oh well...

There is nothing quite so refreshing as an inspirational time of worship!

Day after day life goes on as normal. But what is "normal"? Why are we as Americans so obsessed with a concept we do not fully understand or even know how to define? In any case, "they" (whoever "they" are) tell us that life goes on as normal. And time slips by like grains of sand through a child's fingers. When suddenly, out of nowhere, it hits you. It always happens when you least expect it; it's always when you think you're going to be fine. But you turn around and BAM! it just smacks you in the face. Suddenly you are confronted with all that you have tried to leave behind and everything that you want so hard to forget. But you can't forget it. At best you can ignore the feelings, but then the memories only appear all the more vividly in your dreams. Everything inside of you that has been held down and pushed away gushes out in one swift instant. And there's nothing you can do to stop it. It all happens so suddenly that you don't even realize what is taking over your being until it is too late. In a moment it passes, but that moment is a lifetime. And you will not be the same. You are left aching, wanting, somehow less than what you were just a moment ago. No words will fix the problem. No medicine can heal the pain. There is no magic cure for a broken heart.

i thank You God by e. e. cummings

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;
and for everything
which is natural which is infinite
which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;
this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:
and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

I love French class! It's so funny. My Prof., Mme. Trammell is a very laid-back kind of teacher. Plus, she lets us do cool stuff. Today, for example, we sang a rousing chorus of a Quebec drinking song. It was quite hilarious. Reminds me of the good ol' days when Dad used to make us listen to Quebec Public Radio on the way to church every Sunday. Whenever Mme. Trammell finds a word or phrase that is incorrect and most of us are using it, she will write it on the board and then scribble it out with her chalk. She will then procede to draw us a nice picture (I drew a replica on "paint" but I'm not talented enough to know how to get it to appear on my website). The picture is an oval face. For eyes she puts two big Vs. There are horns on top of the head and two more Vs under the chin with 3 drops falling from them. At this point her face gets all scrunched up and she procedes to tell us (in French of course) that she is an evil vampire and that if she ever catches us using that phrase again, then she'll suck the blood from our necks. It's quite a comical scene to watch, and needless to say, it usually works. I love French class!

Ecc 1:14 I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.
Grove City college prides itself on its beautiful college. The main Quad in front of Rockwell is forbidden to walk on. Rockwell Hall of Science is itself a scary building--it looks like the perfect set for a Harry Potter movie. But the legend goes that there is a sniper on the tower ready to shoot down any student who dares tread on the "sacred soil". Anyway, the point is, GCC is very proud of that grass. So proud that they have decided to spread a nice layer of manure over it to help it recover from the dry summer they experienced here. So think of me as I try to get through my studying. It is too stuffy to keep the windows closed, so I must endure the poignant aroma of cow poop wafting in. The entire campus smells like a cow field. A bit much? I think so. Personally I'll take brown grass over manure any day!

the world reacts

I AM by me (1-3-01)
I am an ever-changing contradiction.
I wonder what will happen when I am not young.
I hear soft whispers of the soul.
I see the beauty of life that others overlook.
I just want to be liked, but
I don't always like myself.
I am an ever-changing contradiction.
I pretend that I have all the confidence in the world.
I feel like I have none.
I touch a piece of heaven when I pray.
I worry about what others think of me.
I cry over the cruelness of mankind, yet
I find that all too often I just don't care.
I am an ever-changing contradiction.
I understand that not everyone will like the way I am.
I believe that true beauty is from within.
I dream of living in lands far away.
I try to stop and enjoy the little things in life.
I hope to one day find my place in life, but
I often wonder if I will.
I am an ever-changing contradiction.

Fall is slowly but surely pushing its way through the thick, humid wall of summer. It has become progressively colder here as the weeks drift by. But it wasn't until this morning that I really realized that fall may finally be bursting out, much like a butterfly from a cocoon.
There is an oak tree right outside my window, and I love to peer through its green canopy into the surrounding area. This morning as I absently gazed out, I noticed something different. It didn't hit me right away, but eventually it dawned on me that the branch I was staring at was not a lush, waxy green. Rather it was a bleached-out tangerine with tips of flourescent yellow. It is as if that one branch decided to rebel and pretty soon I know it will spread like wildfire. Falling into the comfort of conformity, most every leaf here will join in this new fad. Eventually they will follow their friends in suicidal ecstacy as they tumble toward the harsh, cold ground. They will all be trampled, their cause long forgotten, save by the few--the very few--those who are still young enough (whether by age or by the heart) to remember the beauty of that free spirit. And I was here to witness the beginning of this rebellion.

There is a train that runs through this town every morning at 4am. How do I know this, you ask? Well, you see my window faces the "main street" of town, which is where the train track passes through. Being a typical small PA town, there isn't even enough traffic to put in much for crossing guards & lights. Instead, the trains blare their very very loud horns for the duration of the time it takes them to pass through Grove City. These horns are so loud, that it is pointless to try to listen to music or talk to the person standing next to you. I would say we probably get close to a dozen trains passing by in any given 24-hour period. But every night at midnight and 4am I am lulled to sleep by the gentle music of the train's horn. You gotta love PA! (and yes, that was sarcasm)

My parents like to send random interesting newspaper clippings or comic strips when they send me snail mail. This week they sent me a clipping from USA Today regarding a Top Ten list for college students. According to the survey, Education Majors are most likely to bring their stuffed animals with them to college. (The other 9 were Criminal Justice, Medicine, Business Admin., Communications, and Computer Sci.). I guess us Education Majors are just in touch with our inner childhood a bit more than the rest. I personally brought three stuffed animals with me, including George the Leopard, who I sleep with every night. There are quite a few Ele. Ed. Majors on my hall, and all of them have stuffed animals too. Maybe it's a girl thing. Anyone have any stuffed animal stories? There must be a traumatic washing machine story out there somewhere...

I have been at college for 23 days now, and I am beginning to feel like I really am at home here. It is more work than I could have ever imagined, but at the same time I love it. I am learning about topics that interest me and preparing to become what I have always wanted to be: a teacher. But there is still that part of me that is so scared to grow up and face the "real world"--the part of me that wishes that I could go back to the days when I was just a little girl, playing in the yard, enjoying the cool breeze of the "peppermint wind".
Where the Sidewalk Endsby Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

Well, I was debating what to write about for the first post, and after much deliberation, I decided to write about Alphonso.
Alphonso is a very close friend to both my roommate and I. The window in our room has 3 tall sections, and the outer two have screens so that we can open them and enjoy fresh air. In the bottom left corner of the middle window pane is where Alphonso lives. He is a brown spider a little less than an inch long. I named the spider on our window Alphonso because, well, I'm weird like that. He has a nice little web house in my side of the window, and his thin web porch extends across our middle window pane. I noticed Alphonso the day I arrived. I leaned over my desk and gently tapped on the window to see if he was friendly. Being the timid type, he quickly scurried to his corner with his head facing the wall. Eventually we became close friends, and he has learned to put up with my incessant tapping. In any case, he makes a good listener (even if I don't talk to him all that much). *laughs* and don't worry, a little brown spider is not the only friend I've made here! More to follow soon...