I was reaching my hand into the drawer to retrieve the measuring cups.  I was going to make crust for quiche and berry pie (yum on all counts).  I felt a sharp prick on my middle and ring finger and quickly drew my hand out of the drawer.  OUCH.  Blood was seeping from the two wounds.  It was pretty gross.  Long story short, I didn’t make the crust or the quiche or the pie.  Sad day.  Maybe tomorrow, if these bad boys are feeling better.

The culprits:

The ouchies:

I’m not sure what I’m doing once I’ve graduated; there’s a possibility that I’ll work with someone from our church who’s starting her own home daycare in June.  But that’s not really where my passion lies.  I still want to work with at-risk youth and their families.  Jason’s co-worker and I were having a discussion the other day on this very subject.  We decided that work needs to be done at ground-zero.  Children need to be given opportunities and support from the beginning.  This is especially true for children who live in inner cities or are born into poverty.  Their options are limited before they are even born and that greatly affects their future possibilities.   One of my classmates just did a presentation on the cradle to prison pipeline where children are born into circumstances that basically lead them straight behind bars.  There is something very wrong with that.  Communities need to come together and take care of their children.  Society needs to place higher priority on the well-being of the littlest citizens.  These children need people to stand up and fight for them, they need people to care and not just see their need but do something about it.  It’s great that the U.S. sends out so many missionaries to other third-world countries but we need more of focus on the third-world citizens living within our borders.  These are concerns near to my heart and they are what inspire me to get out there and make a difference in this broken world.

 It’s been a crazy October.  I had a lot of projects, papers and presentations due but now that I’ve turned them in and completed them, I feel like the semester is winding down.  We’ve had some great fellowship in the last month and lots of good times.  I know what my last semester of college is going to look like and life is moving along nicely.  I have five more weeks of this semester left (not including Thanksgiving break but including finals) and I’m so excited for the end. So.excited.  Today also marks our three month anniversary, we’ve been married for a quarter of a year!

Last night I went to check on a grade for a paper I turned in last week.  It said I had 27%.  Um, what?!  I have never even gotten close to getting such a terrible grade on anything, even in math.  I think of myself as a good student, I work hard and do well.  Plus, I’m an achiever, doing well is what I thrive on, what I do.  Failure is not an option.  So I cried as Jason kissed my face and told me it was probably a mistake.  Yeah, ok.  And the thoughts kept coming: was it because I had uploaded it a few hours after 5 pm?  Was the analysis really that awful?  What had I done wrong?

So then.

I talked to my teacher today.  She told me not to freak out before she had a chance to check it.  Perhaps she had entered the grade incorrectly.  No one got a 27% she told me.  So I calmed down and waited.  She emailed me later today to tell me that I got 27 out of 30 points.  The gradebook said it was worth 100 points.  So I got 90%.  Ka-chow.

dance like the breeze

write poetry that brings people to their knees

compose a ballad that moves people to tears

These fingers missed this flow, the writing and the spark that runs through the body as thought turns to written word.  Shiver and still.  Too much action in my brain.  I have more papers to write, more air to breathe and more life to live. Oh, well.

———-

I changed a tire by myself today (previously I had some kind of help).  The thu-thunk of the tire alerted me to the flat.  I thought I could make it home but had to pull over, turned on the hazards, pulled out the jack and tire iron.  It took about 20 minutes, my hands got dirty, my hair kept blowing in my face and the zooming cars scared me a bit.  But I did it.

Wonder what tomorrow’s adventure will be. . .

I’m thinking of pictures and what an interesting phenomenon they are.  It’s nice to capture moments but it’s also difficult if you weren’t involved in that moment to understand the background.  Even if I was involved in the taking of or being photographed, I wonder what I was thinking, what was assaulting my senses at the time.  It seems there’s always something to elude you.

I suck at letting things go.  Thoughts and the past often haunt me.  But maybe I want them to?

I don’t understand my own thoughts sometimes, why I feel the way I do.

Unknowingness frustrates me to no end.  Why must some people/things insist on being so mysterious?  Hmm?

There are too many songs out there.  I want to enjoy all the good ones.  But new ones are always invented and I’m not fast enough to catch them.

What would it be like if there was no concept of time?  What would happen to our society if suddenly technology collapsed?

Is it bad that I wish some people didn’t exist?  Don’t answer that.

I should go pick up Jason.

P.S. That’s not even the half of it.