Tuesday, September 28, 2010

French Bread or Curly Fries?



Apparently when I french braid my hair, "it's so golden, that it looks like French bread, that's so good, I could just rip it off her head and eat it." That's what a couple of my girlfriends told me someone said about me. I just laughed. I've heard people say my hair looks like a carrot, or a tomotoe, or a pumpkin, but a loaf of bread? That one cracked me up. So last night after work, I took a shower and blow dried my hair just enough for Cassie to put some curlers in it... bad idea. I'm suffering from lack of sleep at this very moment. I don't know how you're suppose to sleep on those things! And in the morning I woke up and Cassie came to my room to take them out of my hair and laugh... I just know she knew what it was going to look like! She unrolled them and... BAM! There were my locks, bouncy and curly, but definitely so short it looked liked I'd cut my hair and I had a mullet. Yesiree, it was bad. I've been thinking of the right words to describe it all day, and I think I'd have to say it looks like a hurricane came, hit my head and never left. Today what did I get called? "Karalee fries" like "Curly fries"... special, I know. Wow. What a day.

P.S. The bread in the picture is actually Cardamon bread, it's braided and we actually eat this every Christmas... I guess I kind of see the resemblance now...

Friday, September 17, 2010

A Plantiful Life Lesson


Once upon a time, I told a story. It went like this:
I have this plant that sits on my window sill. See, the side facing the sun is healthy, and growing taller, brighter and greener. But the side facing my room is wilty, and almost falling completely over in defeat. Every morning I rotate it so the side that's prospering and recieving all the nourishment from the sun can share in the droopy dark side. It's the plants life cycle. In order for the plant to survive I have to remember to turn it around everyday. You see, as long as we're pointed toward the Son, we'll make it.

Slumber Party


We stayed up until 1 AM last night. We were all done with R.A. work, but we couldn't sleep because that's the rules at a slumber party. We're all tired, but you don't want to be the first one to fall into unconscious sleep, so we felt the need to stay up and talk like girls do at slumber parties. We talked about boys, we wrote warm fuzzies, we told stories, we played hot or not with the Like it Looks, and then we played dress up changing hairstyles, picking out clothes, and trying on each pair of my clip on earings trying to decide our favorite. Of course we hadn't done any homework all day and we knew that's what we SHOULD have been doing. But Senioritis has kicked in early, and for now all that matters is slumber parties.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

blowing bubbles in the rain

It rained today. It's week of prayer this week. After tonights meeting Cassie and I walked over to Pastor Fred's car climbed in the back trunk and waited for the chance to scare the bjibes out of him. It was dark. Cassie called her mom. Her mom told us about the waffles with blueberries she was eating. Our mouths were watering, it was torture. And we were jealous. We sat in the car for 30 min waiting for Pastor Fred to get in his car and drive home. We got a phone call from Anisha. She said we were missing the R.A. meeting right now and we needed to head back. We climbed over the seat... lights on, skirts coming up and all. We walked back to the dorm in the rain. I told Cassie about the day in 4th grade when I talked back to the teacher. I was crying and walking away from her. I remember it clearly, she told me sternly, "Young lady if you take one more step I'm sending you to the principal's office." I took one more step and turned around, tears flowing down my face. I've always been a trouble making kid. I use to like to get into fights. I always got into trouble, but not really bad trouble. But at the same time, I've always been the teachers pet. Go figure. I realized that tonight. In the rain. That's apart of who I am. From my past, and too the present. I still am. I'm glad I'm starting to figure this out. Now I can just keep blowing bubbles for the rest of my life. And that's how I feel about that.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Spark







Seniors Survival was not at all like I expected. It was a lot of time spent sitting on a log listening to the prophecies of Revelation. We learned how to survive in the wilderness. It was bonding in groups of A, B, or C, but not so much as a whole, as a class. People kept saying how they never expected it to happen the way it did. It was so much better and the presence of God was all around them. I remember one kid clearly saying how he had never imagined it to be this way, he thought it was going to be like a pathfinder outing, not nearly as powerful as it was for him. I absolutely LOVE hearing those words come from his mouth, it was probably one of my big highlights from the trip, but really. Why couldn't my experience be the same? I felt hardly any connection to God at all. Like the wires to heaven had been cut off. I thought that would be impossible with people seeing and feeling God left and right. And there I am, in the middle of the crowd with nothing. Empty. How can you be in the presence of God and not feel it or know it, but catch glimpses into the lives of others where God dwells. When is it my turn? I want it desperately, but it's just not there. We learned what wild plants we could eat, we learned about first aid, we built forts, and fires. My group won the contest on who could build the fastest fire, I've had lots of practice in that area. Where's the fire I was suppose to bring back to campus? I only have a few days left to get a clear answer. I feel rushed, I need an answer now. I'm so desperate, if only for a spark.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Under The Big Disco Ball


Tonight I took my girls out onto the middle of the football field for worship. A few of the girls weren't very thrilled about the idea of taking time to go do something different. They were stressing about all the homework and things they had to do when they got back to the dorm, and they "just didn't have time to do this." It was dark. But the stars provided enough light to see a shadow on each girls face as we sat together in a circle, singing praises to our King. We finished with "The Blood" and each girl went around the circle telling when they felt the closest to God and why. A few girls skipped, but I was pretty happy with the amount of girls willing to share. One of the girls broke down as she told us about her parents divorce and how she had prayed to God that they would get back together but they never did. God found a way to see her through the rainy days. When we were finished sharing I prayed. One of my favorite girls on my hall, a good friend turned to me and whispered, "Can we talk after this." "Yeah," I replied. The girls just sat there until I sent them on there way back to the dorm. We stood to our feet and I saw the tears in her eyes, and I knew God was there. She looked at me and told me how empty she felt. No one else knew what she was carrying around, but tonight she really felt God's presence. She said she had so many emotions wrapped up inside that she couldn't let go of them in order to maintain her sense of strength. She felt so far away from God. I hugged her and comforted her as tears streamed down my face. "You want to know a secret?" I said. "I feel almost the same way." We continued talking all the way back to the dorm. I walked into the deans office with red eyes and told the deans, "Tonight was a good night."