Tesseracts and Quantum Leaps

2010-07-14T13:41:00.004-05:00

My friend Spencer Smith is working on a very brave project for his Thesis and I wanted to share it with as many people as possible - check it out and help him out by contributing or by sharing this with your friends. If you disagree with it, then just keep it to yourself because the negativity isn't welcome here and will get you nowhere. People need to share their stories.

Here's the Facebook link:
http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=140586219292320#!/group.php?gid=140586219292320&ref=mf

Here's the link to the blog:
http://queerperspectives.blogspot.com/

2010-07-13T11:07:00.001-05:00

Tears streaming gently down your face
I stare hidden in the shadows
You know not that I can see you
Yet I see and cry my pain
Help I cannot offer
And help, from me, you will not take
So I sit in painful silence
Heart breaking at every tear
I wish for just to help you
To be trusted with your thoughts
I don’t ask for you to love me
For I know now that’s too much to ask
My tears are my reminder
Of the pain I hold inside
My sobs are my reminder
Of the emotions I can’t escape
You say that no one likes you
You say that no one cares
I’d give everything for you
But you don’t see me standing here
You look right through me
Past my tears and past my pain
My sobs are never heard
And my cries are never noticed
I’ve learned to just ignore them
My feelings must not be real
These tears I cry
These pleas I make
All hidden within my walls
I see your tears and beg to help
But I’m pushed away again

Beautiful Disaster

2010-01-06T23:13:00.001-06:00

He drowns in his dreams
An exquisite extreme I know
He's as damned as he seems
And more heaven than a heart could hold
And if I try to save him
My whole world would cave in
It just ain't right
Lord, it just ain't right

Oh and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
He's such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and laughter
Lord, Would it be beautiful?
Or just a beautiful disaster

He's magic and myth
As strong as what I believe
A tragedy with
More damage than a soul should see
But do I try to change him
So hard not to blame him
Hold me tight
Hold me tight

Oh and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
He's such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com
Would it be beautiful?
Or just a beautiful disaster

I'm longing for love and the logical
But he's only happy, hysterical
I'm searching for some kind of miracle
Waited so long..
Waited So long.

He's soft to the touch
But frayed at the end he breaks
He's never enough
And still he's more than I can take
Oh and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful?
Or just a beautiful disaster

2009-11-19T00:06:00.001-06:00

Until I have the time to pen my own words I'll provide you with the genius of others.

Elephant by Damien Rice

"Well this has got to die
I said, this has got to stop
This has got to lie down
With someone else on top

Well, you can keep me pinned
It's easier to tease
But you can't paint an elephant
Quite as good as she

And she may cry like a baby
And she may drive me Crazy
'Cause I am lately lonely

So why'd you have to lie?
I take it I'm your crutch
The pillow in your pillow case
Is easier to touch

And when you think you've sinned
Do you fall upon your knees?
Or d'you sit within your picture?
Do you still forget the breeze?

And she may rise, if I sing you down
And she may wisely cling to the ground
Cause I am lately, horny
So why would she take me thorny?

What's the point of this song? Or even singing?
You've already gone, why am I clinging?
Well I could throw it out, and I could live without
And I could do it all for you
I could be strong
Tell me if you want me to lie
'Cause this has got to die

I said, this has got to stop
This has got to lie down, down
With someone else on top

You can both keep me pinned
'Cause it's easier to tease
But you can't make me happy
Quite as good as me

Well you know that's a lie"

2009-10-27T20:44:00.002-05:00

Fallen by Sarah McLachlan

2009-08-24T23:38:00.002-05:00

Heaven bent to take my hand
And lead me through the fire
Be the long awaited answer
To a long and painful fight

Truth be told I've tried my best
But somewhere along the way
I got caught up in all there was to offer
And the cost was so much more than I could bear

Though I've tried, I've fallen...
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so...

We all begin with good intent
Love was raw and young
We believed that we could change ourselves
The past could be undone
But we carry on our backs the burden
Time always reveals
The lonely light of morning
The wound that would not heal
It's the bitter taste of losing everything
That I have held so dear.

I've fallen...
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so...

Heaven bent to take my hand
Nowhere left to turn
I'm lost to those I thought were friends
To everyone I know
Oh they turned their heads embarrassed
Pretend that they don't see
But it's one missed step
You'll slip before you know it
And there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed

Though I've tried, I've fallen...
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so...

2009-04-15T02:30:00.000-05:00

Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do I’ll still feel you here ’til the moment I’m gone.

You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain.

[CHORUS]
Set me free, leave me be. I don’t want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I’m supposed to be.
But you’re on to me and all over me.

You loved me ’cause I’m fragile.
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone.

[CHORUS]
Set me free, leave me be. I don’t want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I’m supposed to be.
But you’re on to me and all over me.

I live here on my knees as I try to make you see that you’re everything I think I need here on the ground.
But you’re neither friend nor foe though I can’t seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you’re keeping me down

Your keeping me down,
Your on to me, your on to me and all over
Something always brings me back to you
It never takes to long…

PostSecret secrets

2009-03-18T18:09:00.002-05:00

Here's the email that was sent in response to the picture:

-----Email Message-----
Sent: Monday, March 16, 2009 3:13 AM
Subject: I'm sorry I'm weird.

I wish you hadn't. I wanted to be the one alongside you when you figured it out.

My Junior Seminar paper

2008-09-10T23:06:00.001-05:00

A Stranger in the Midst:
A Look at Autism

You have a beautiful son who has all of his fingers and toes. He hears and sees. Walking and running are no problem. He looks like what every parents hopes for, the child with no obvious physical impairments. A few years go by and he is growing up so fast. Once he reaches the age where interaction with others and imaginative play should be the staples of his pastime, you notice that some things really are not quite what you thought they were. You start to realize that your son really does not talk as often as you have let yourself believe and that most of the things he has said are not original. He has been quoting you, people he has heard elsewhere or the television. He is not interacting with other children the way you expect him to. He seems to be completely absorbed in his own world. Eventually, after waiting and watching and hoping that things will change, you take him to a doctor and then on to therapists because you have been informed that your child has a form of autism.

Autism is a pervasive developmental disorder. These disorders are characterized by “severe impairment in several areas of development . . . or the presence of extremely odd behavior, interests, and activities (Halgin, p.347).” Autistic disorder follows the diagnostic criteria for a pervasive developmental disorder, but is more specifically characterized by “severe delay and dysfunction in communication, language, and social and cognitive development (Lund & Pelios).” Susan Folstein, in her article entitled Autism, states that the diagnostic criteria (according to the DSM-IV) require the presence of three features before the ages of four and five. The three features are failure to develop normal social interactions, no or abnormal development of language, and restricted range of interests and behaviors. A child with autism displays an inability to communicate effectively with those around him along with a lack of imaginative play and speech and an inability to display emotion or interest in others (Lund & Pelios). For the parents of a child with autism, emotional problems may arise when the child resists cuddling or seems to dislike being touched. A child with autism is typically content when in a familiar place and with a set routine; any change in the environment can cause intense discomfort and will often bring on events such as a tantrum. Social interaction is awkward and often painful. Children with autism develop an attachment for parents and caregivers later than most children develop and seem to have little to no interest in playing with other children. These symptoms can diminish as the child ages; however, they may still remain extremely awkward in social settings. Poor eye contact, persistence with one topic of conversation and the inability to produce small talk all add to the awkwardness of social interaction for an autistic person (Folstein).

A mother, Donna, writes in an online journal about her experiences raising a child with autism, the ins and outs of interaction with her children and the issues faced at school and with other people. She details the frustrations and hopes of watching her son deal with the social interactions that he must face and the awkwardness of not quite fitting in with his peers. Often the entries about watching her son grow mention the heartache at knowing that he wants social interaction but that he does not know the way to approach others and the fear that he will be cruelly treated or ignored. In this particular entry, she writes about driving past his school and seeing him on the playground with the other children:
“…he was standing all alone on one of the railroad ties that border the swing set area, not another child within twenty feet of him. A week ago, I saw a couple of other kids tugging at his coat -- I couldn't tell in the five-second view I got whether they were playing with him, teasing him, or worse … As heartened as I am on a daily basis by Archer's accomplishments, both social and academic, I live in fear that he will be taken advantage of by cruel kids. He doesn't understand the intricacies of social life -- he's inordinately excited by any attention paid to him by another child, although he doesn't have the skills to hold up his end -- and that makes him vulnerable to those who want to use him as a pawn in their own games … On the other end of the spectrum, I worry that his classmates, single-mindedly pursuing their own projects, will just ignore him. Even though he doesn't seem to mind it -- he'll just go into autism mode, humming and flapping his hands as he spins in circles -- the fact that he knows to be impressed and grateful when others do reach out to him makes me think that underneath the self-absorbed behaviors, he's lonely (Bowman, 2-15-08).”
Donna mentions several times throughout the entries her concerns that Archer will have a hard time making or keeping friends or that his lack of social concern or knowledge will keep him from being successful and happy in life. In a different entry, struggles are presented with the way Archer approaches conversations and the way he exists in his world and not others.
“ …most of his conversation consists of information about the temperature, the time, various street addresses where important people in his life reside, dates when crucial events will take place, and the relationship between all those numbers -- which collectively makes up the framework on which his happiness depends ...(Bowman, 8-13-07).”
These deficits are not language-based or a physical impairment. They are purely cognitive and have to do with the ability to pay attention to others and extend awareness outside of oneself. Being autistic is being self-obsessed. Not in the narcissistic sense, but rather in the inability to really understand another and the lack of knowledge to start that process.

Abnormalities in language are also a major factor in the social awkwardness that defines autism. Approximately a third of autistic children will never develop speech past the occasional word and will never attempt to learn another form of communication. The other two thirds of autistic children develop speech, usually after age four, but in a varying range. The amount of speech can range from phrases to relatively normal speech in structure (Folstein). Seen repeatedly throughout autistic speech is a characteristic called echolalia, which involves repeating words or phrases heard in conversation. This happens when the child does not understand what was said but is capable of repeating it. A child with a less severe case of autism may be able to use language effectively but is still unable to maintain a conversation exchange that would be considered normal. With this disorder, those who do develop communication skills are highly unlikely to initiate a conversation or remain involved in conversation for an extended period. Characteristics of autistic speech extending past echolalia involve monotone voice, odd rhythm, unusual rate or pitch and may often confuse pronouns such as I and you (Halgin, pg.349). In addition to these, nonverbal gestures are often lacking. These gestures can include “pointing, nodding, and shaking the head with respect to questions and normative eye contact (Lund & Pelios).” According to Folstein, pragmatics is the most constant and even defining abnormality of language in autism. Pragmatics is the social aspect of language, such as showing an interest in others’ thoughts and opinions, coordinating eye contact and speech and knowing how to take turns in a conversation. For the autistic person, speech is used to communicate needs or provide information, not to chat or socialize.

Communicating with a child who is autistic presents several problems in that listening and speaking are often issues and are key points for interaction. Language is used to exchange information, yes, but it also used to build relationships. When conversing with others, we have to be very aware of the direction of the conversation and which topics follow and which do not. Donna details some of Archer’s problems with communication due to his autism, stating that he can’t “separate relevant details from irrelevant ones (Bowman, 8-13-07).”
“It's that ability to intuitively discriminate among the various facts, objects, and symbols in our environment that makes it possible to share a common world with people in communication. And it's exactly that that autistic individuals have to learn step by step, rather than understanding through the usual socialization processes. Until they do, the world that makes sense to them is going to be made up of stuff that doesn't make sense to us, and vice versa. In the final analysis, that's the difference that keeps autistic people locked in their own world -- the trait that gave them their name, from the Greek for “self” (Bowman, 8-13-07).”

The third diagnostic feature of autism is restricted range of interests and behaviors. Someone with autism may have only one or two fixed interests in which they are intensely engrossed. This fascination often leads to the exclusion of anything else, and makes conversation and education difficult. They may be interested in the parts of an object, moving objects; or in conversation, they may be intensely preoccupied by one specific subject, such as baseball or cars. Autistic savant syndrome is a variant of autism where the individual has an extraordinary skill, such as mathematical or musical abilities. Routines and schedules are of the utmost importance and changing or disturbing any part of a ritual or routine can precipitate uproar (Halgin, pg.349). Other behavioral oddities are abnormalities in cognition, sensory experiences, and motor capabilities and tendencies. Abnormality in cognition is perceived as performance on intelligence testing. Reports show that about 75% of autistic children have IQs below 70, but unlike mental retardation, intelligence is not impaired in all domains. A common disability in autism is the inability to see the whole instead of the parts (Folstein). Sensory abnormalities, along with motor abnormalities, are presented through the child’s withdrawal from touch (of several forms) and through odd gesturing and facial expressions. An autistic child is usually unwilling to cuddle with a parent and has odd gesturing such as “excessive hand flapping, body rocking, eye gazing . . . tantrums, aggression and self-injury (Lund & Pelios).” Often the sensory abnormalities will lead to evasion of touch, even reaching to clothing. Certain fabrics may be abrasive and an autistic individual may even go through a phase of wanting to wear nothing at all. There is also sensitivity to loud noises and an extreme sensitivity to heat. One of the more dangerous aspects of this sensory abnormality is that the autistic individual may not process pain in the usual way or does not understand the concept of going to someone else for comfort. These abnormalities often further remove those living with autism from society.

Archer, as Donna writes, is obsessed with numbers. It is the numbers and sequences in his world that make everything okay. For Archer, numbers, times, sequencing and patterns are fascinating. She mentions in an entry that when Archer is asked a question, he will respond, but it is his answer that is intriguing. He will often answer with numbers relevant to the question, but indirectly (Bowman, 9-7-07). Even from early childhood, Archer was interested in numbers:
“Ever since we can remember, he's kept time with his hands (flashing his private number signs at breakneck speed) while watching videos, singing songs in church, or just running around the house … he got so attached to the therapist's stopwatch whenever testing was being done that he insisted on seeing it at all times. We finally got him weaned off of it to the extent that he gets a timer from the supply closet when he arrives, sets it for 50 minutes, then leaves it outside the room so he's not constantly interrupting the scheduled activities to check on it (Bowman, 9-7-07).”
When raising a child with autism, a constant anxiety is how the child will eventually fit into society and if they will find a suitable job and be able to take care of themselves. Naturally, with the obsessive behaviors of autistic individuals, this is a well-founded concern. Logically, Archer would need to find a job that allowed to him to keep a well-defined schedule and an environment that allowed for working with numbers or time. Finding gainful employment is something that every parent wishes for their children and is one of the things that drive parents to push their children through school and into higher education. Finding gainful employment that is socially acceptable and fits within the world of an autistic individual is something that their parents can hope for and help them achieve, but there is great anxiety and worry that comes with it (Bowman, 9-7-07).

Children and adults with autism face unique challenges. Every child attending school or someone working at an office has to face the gamut of finding new friends, but for the person with autism, that can be almost the impossible. Making friends and finding a niche in a place of employment or even recreation is difficult because social situations are awkward and hard to navigate. Without the knowledge for rules of engagement and the awareness to follow those rules, it's hard to interact with others in a way that leads to friendship and companionship. Donna mentions this fear for her son in her journal, speaking about the excitement Archer gets from interaction with others but the inability to initiate that himself:
“What friendship will mean for Archer as he grows older, I don't know. For now, it's enough that he knows that there is someone who takes care of him, someone who will seek him out for whatever reason. He barely speaks to other children or meets their eyes, although the light in his face when other children speak to him is overwhelming (Bowman, 8-28-07).”

America has evolved into a society that focuses more on the individual needs rather than the community as a unit in the day-to-day grind. For being such an individualistic society, however, we very much value conformity and “norms.” We have our image of the ideal person. We’ve set our limited range of acceptance for lifestyle and personality. To deviate too far from that norm removes you from the throes of society and forces the unlucky different to the very edge of contact and a sense of belonging. Thankfully, there is a continuum for this “edge.” Those who are different can become the standard, those who we look up to, aspire to be. Unfortunately, the other end is more common. These are the ones who receive looks of disdain or unease, are avoided in public, and often have only a few friends, if any. The socially awkward adult. The extreme nerd in high school or the kid obsessed with only one subject. The kid that won’t talk to others or the neighbor next door whose interests are too eccentric. Sadly, there is often more genius and ability at this end of the spectrum than the world will likely have the opportunity to know. We are too afraid of “different” and what it might mean.

“Archer's making great progress, but I get most excited when he's able to connect what other people are talking about (or a story in a book) to something that's already slotted into meaning in his life. He may not be focusing on the piece of information that's significant in my world, but he's attending enough to my world to want to build a bridge between the two. And he's got to start where he is -- with his numbers, times, mazes, and complicated processes for transforming them into each other -- and find a way to translate. When that happens, I see his joy. Another piece has fallen into place for him, and he loves more than anything that sense of the world organizing itself from chaos to meaning. My greatest hope for him is that he finds a way to live in the details he loves ... I have confidence that he can negotiate enough of our world to make his way into and out of those details as required, but I'd rather that he be able to work inside the world that makes the most sense to him, and not have to spend most of his waking hours translating in a foreign land (Bowman, 8-13-07).”

Works Cited

Bowman, Donna. Union, Trueheart and Courtesy. http://uniontrueheart.blogspot.com/**

Folstein, Susan E. Autism. International Review of Psychiatry, 11 269-277. 2001

Halgin, Richard P. & Whitbourne, Susan Krauss. Abnormal Psychology. Clinical Perspectives on Psychological Disorders (5th Ed.) New York, NY: 2007

Lund, Stein K. & Pelios, Lillian V. A Selective Overview of Issues on Classification, Causation, and Early Intensive Behavioral Intervention for Autism. Behavior Modification, 25, No. 5, 678-697. 2001

**All material drawn from journal entries were used with permission from the author. Dates of entries used are in citations.

2008-04-17T01:36:00.002-05:00

The game:
1. Grab the nearest book to you.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.

Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman (a rather wonderful book)

It ended up being page 124, because 123 was at the beginning of a chapter, and you know how that goes.

"So she waits for him, not impatiently, passing the time with a book. Some time later, perhaps on the following day, he arrives, they lock arms, walk to the gardens, stroll by the groupings of tulips, roses, martagon lilies, alpine columbines, sit on a white cedar bench for an unmeasurable time. Evening comes, marked by a change in the light, a reddening of the sky. The man and woman follow a winding path of small white stones to a restaurant on a hill. Have they been together a lifetime, or only a moment? Who can say?"

Had that specific book not been the closest one to me, the next closest in proximity is "Fat! So? Because you don't have to apologize for your size!" by Marilyn Wann. An inspirational book share with me by a dear friend. You should read it. If nothing else, it is very much amusing.

Alleluia by Ralph Manuel

2008-04-03T19:43:00.005-05:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AmPACnd8KbQ&feature=related

The best recording of this song is by St. Olaf's choir, but all of their recordings are purchase only. You can sample, but not link. The reason I'm sharing is because we're singing this song for our choir concert (April 17 @ 7:30 in Reynolds - be there) and it is one of my favorite songs that we're doing. This will sound a little harsh, but we will sound better than this choir. You should come hear us! Here's the list of pieces we're performing:

Galop by Ken Berg

“Aria” by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685 - 1750)/Arr. Swingle
from the Orchestral Suite in D Major
Percussion: Dr. Paige Rose
String Bass: Andrew Stinson

Can-Can by Jacques Offenbach (1819 - 1880)/Arr. Eschliman
from the “Overture” to Orpheus in the Underworld

Alleluia by Ralph Manuel

Banquet Fugue by John Rutter (b. 1945)
from The Reluctant Dragon

Solfeggio by Arvo Pärt (b. 1935)

Contrapunto bestiale alla mente by Adriano Banchieri (1568 - 1634)

Feller from Fortune Traditional/Arr. Harry Somers (1925 - 1999)
From 5 Songs of the Newfoundland Outports

Peter Gunn by Henry Mancini (1924 - 1994)/Arr. Funk

You should check out the songs as best as you can. Some of them are pretty awesome. Two of the pieces are written for instruments and have been arranged for voices, such as the Aria and the Peter Gunn piece. We're going to have a lot of fun and I'd absolutely love it if people I know were there.

Here are a few more links to great songs we're doing

Feller From Fortune
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jAPxJbPC9Xs

This is a great performance of this song, but they gave no life and no character to the song, and trust me, this is our showpiece (well, one of them) ;)

Okay, I tried to find others . . . but I'd really rather you just attend the concert. It's only an hour or two of your life. And it's spend enjoying music, which enriches the soul. You should come.

XKCD comic - Far Away

2008-03-23T12:22:00.005-05:00

An actual blog is forthcoming. I'll most likely type while on the long ride to Tyler, TX (when I'm not driving, that is) and then post once we get there. We'll see.

2008-02-29T15:14:00.002-06:00

This was posted on an online-forum that I'm a part of for school. I thought I'd share, because it was amazingly beautiful. Enjoy.

"A Few Early Thoughts
February 27, 2008

Some say we go through life like bumper cars, meeting and greeting, seeing then leaving. I prefer a comparison to multitudes of molecules, macro and micro. We all reveal our affinities and phobias sooner or later. Many reactions occur simply as transformations of life's vibrations. Entropic displacements of nobles and violence along paths of laws and numbers we stand alone.

So where is God?

There's a flicker in my eyes when I ask this. It causes a nervous itch in most people, I have witnessed. An often unwitnessed testament is the pressure billowing from the heart. That pressure which keeps us inflated can be felt when one is mindful.

Life. Blood and Breath.

There is what we can see. Perhaps better said, there is what we can feel. Sight simply captures light bouncing among forms. However, as I lift the shield to block the blow of my enemy's sword, I feel it as an extension of my arm. I feel myself become more massive with a new center. I feel forever pass before the blow is received.

I see you next to me sitting, not making contact. Yet I feel your presence. Breathing nearly inaudibly you, a beautiful pattern of molecules, sit thumbing through leaves of concepts. You exhale internal interactions. I inhale our closeness and feel a non-sexual intimacy.

Molecules.

Beyond molecules I may soon find when the shield fails to intercept the blade. Beyond energy when my pounding heart overwhelms the pain. Once again I am mindful—mindful of my weakening breath, of my vigorous blood flow, of my imminent future. Bonds of familiarity are severed with that sword. Memories of odd intimacy begin to fade. I forget why I was fighting this slayer. Just a few moments ago he was my mirror image. Physically, we faced the other on a fruitless field. Beyond that, we had both seen the wonders of human animation, both considered abstract observations, and both failed to quite understand this momentary hatred between us. At that moment I was him and he was me.

It is difficult to imagine ignition of the soul, much less so the cessation of that flame. Uniformly so, both happen. What remains?

The molecules are borrowed. The dwellings are mutated patterns of tendency and opportunity. Ignoring the sentimental heart, what becomes of the situations that influence the rhythms of the heart? Do Shakespeare’s tragedies speak to our truest fear—that love is doomed? From any of this can we gather any palpable evidence in our quest to find God?

I leave you with these thoughts on this early morning."

I'll be back at some point this weekend to actually post.

Jen

2007-11-03T00:16:00.000-05:00

She fears him, and will always ask
What fated her to choose him;
She meets in his engaging mask
All reason to refuse him.
But what she meets and what she fears
Are less than are the downward years,
Drawn slowly to the foamless weirs
Of age, were she to lose him.

Between a blurred sagacity
That once had power to sound him,
And Love, that will not let him be
The Judas that she found him,
Her pride assuages her almost
As if it were alone the cost--
He sees that he will not be lost,
And waits, and looks around him.

A sense of ocean and old trees
Envelops and allures him;
Tradition, touching all he sees,
Beguiles and reassures him.
And all her doubts of what he says
Are dimmed by what she knows of days,
Till even Prejudice delays
And fades, and she secures him.

The falling leaf inaugurates
The reign of her confusion;
The pounding wave reverberates
The dirge of her illusion.
And Home, where passion lived and died,
Becomes a place where she can hide,
While all the town and harbor side
Vibrate with her seclusion.

We tell you, tapping on our brows,
The story as it should be,
As if the story of a house
Were told, or ever could be.
We'll have no kindly veil between
Her visions and those we have seen--
As if we guessed what hers have been,
Or what they are or would be.

Meanwhile we do no harm, for they
That with a god have striven,
Not hearing much of what we say,
Take what the god has given.
Though like waves breaking it may be,
Or like a changed familiar tree,
Or like a stairway to the sea,
Where down the blind are driven.

2007-09-29T03:56:00.002-05:00

SHE GOT TO GO HOME!!!

She isn't necessarily better, but she made a good argument (against her doctor's wishes, of course) that she wasn't getting any better at the hospital and she was miserable - so why not go home where she's comfortable? So he let her go. She already feels better, just being at home. So I'm going home tomorrow night and we're gonna make purses and spend some time together. I'm glad she's feeling better, I just hope she actually gets better.

Anyway. Wanted to share the happy news!! :) Off to sleep now.

2007-09-28T01:10:00.000-05:00

I need a hug. A big, long, it's-okay-you're-safe, enveloping HUG. It has been a rough two weeks and, if we're being perfectly honest, it isn't getting better this next week. I know I'll be okay and I know that I will make it because I have an amazing Father who takes care of me and I know that I've been give an amazing network of friends and family that love and support me. But I really need a hug. And the two people that can make me feel safe and comforted like that aren't here. One's in Sherwood and I'll get to see him this weekend, so that's a major plus. The other, though . . . well, he's just not here right now. And won't be for a while. And there's circumstances. Eh.

I should be writing my lab report for Biology about now. I've gotten some of it done . . . and by some of it, I mean not much at all.

My mom is still in the hospital - it's been a week now. Here's the thing: this is routine for me and my family. This, however, never makes it easier. I've become a pro, however, at fooling myself and everyone around me that it doesn't freak me out and that I can go throughout my day without worrying. IT'S A LIE. A huge lie. It scares the crap out of me. Every time my dad calls (while she's in the hospital) I'm worried that he's going to tell me she's gotten worse or they've found something awful or some such other thing. The rational part of me knows this isn't what's going to happen about 99% of the time . . . but it happens. Not very often, thank God. They (well, really, me) have made me paranoid. If my dad calls at an odd time or several times in a short span, I immediately think it has to do with my mother and that they're rushing her off to the ER again. It's sad. What's worse is that my mom being in the hospital makes our relationship absolutely wonderful. I call her at least once a day, usually two or three times, to check on her and make sure she's okay. My patience with her is 100x more than it normally is and I'll answer just about any question and talk to her about anything and everything. My relationship with my mother should not be dependent on her health. What kind of daughter am I? I love my mom, I do. She's an amazing woman and one of the most people-focused humans I've ever met. She'd give you every single thing out of our house if you needed it. I've watched her try. It's so easy for her to know people and I don't know anyone that doesn't like her (we're not talking about annoyed, that's a different subject). But there is something about this woman that gave birth to me that irritates the living daylights out of me. I adore her and I'd do anything for her, but I can't seem to control my temper when it comes to her. And I hate it. I shouldn't be so angry toward her and I don't know what's wrong with me! I tell people that her being in the hospital is normal now and that I'm fine, really, and that she's okay. She's not okay. She's a really, really sick woman and I'm scared to death that I'm going to lose her in the next year or two and that she won't be around anymore. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her. I know it will happen some day, but I don't want that day to be soon. I want that day to be 20, 30 years down the road when I'm married and I have kids and she's seen them growing up and they get to know their grandmother. I hate that she's so sick and that most of it can't be fixed because she did it herself by not controlling her diabetes and taking care of herself. I don't like her being in pain and constantly ill. She's so miserable most of the time, but you don't know it because she won't admit it to most people. I'm so proud of her for finally listening to the doctors and me and my dad - for changing her lifestyle (a big change, too) and making a huge effort to start living a healthy life. She's done such a good job and I so wish that it would fix the damage she's done, but it won't. Her lifestyle change will basically just keep her alive longer, it can't fix the damage she's done in the 14 years of not controlling her diabetes. I'm so grateful the doctors got her attention, though. Because she wouldn't listen to me and I'd given up . . .

And. Now that I've released all that. I should go finish (start) my lab report.

Ciao!
Jen

2007-09-08T02:48:00.001-05:00

Well I've had one interesting evening. I got all dolled up for the fun of it, which really was a lot of fun, and I had absolutely nothing to do. Sad times, no? SO. My friend, Callie, and I went over to a friend-of-a-friend's room (Jeremy's friend, Garret) to watch Hot Fuzz. I swear there was about 2o people there. We couldn't even open the door all the way because we had so many couches, chairs and people. Pretty sure that's a fire code violation, but, eh. There were four RAs there (including myself) and what makes this funny is that we got in trouble, not once, but twice. For noise. Tabor didn't even say anything about the amount of people in the room, just the noise. It was fun, though, and turns out Hot Fuzz is a really good movie. Really funny.

Anyway, that ended, so Callie and I decided that we were going to a party to check on one of her residents. We finally find the place we're going and realize that there is a TON of alcohol there, so we very quickly leave (um, our jobs are in serious jeopardy if we're caught anywhere near alcohol and with knowledge of it). So we start trying to figure out what to do and find out that the Sig Eps are having a party. Long story short, I went a party at a frat house tonight. I think I can officially say I'm a college student now. Not really, but it was fun. Not too terribly exciting, but I was amused for a while. There wasn't alcohol (in the open, anyway) and they had the UCAPD at the party keeping an eye on stuff. It was fun, I didn't stay long, though. I went to the fountain and just sat there with my feet in for a while. It was really nice and I'm glad I went and just had some peace for a while.

I'm off to bed now, though. I gotta be at the Student Center by 8:15 a.m. because we're helping with a clean-up project in LR tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. Go CircleK!!

You Belong to Me by Jason Wade

2007-09-07T19:37:00.000-05:00

So it's been a while. About two weeks worth of while. I'm back, though! A lot of stuff has happened between then and now, and I'm pretty much just gonna let that stuff be. A quick summary, however:

- RA training is intense. "Behind Closed Doors" is some of the most intense training I think I'll probably ever go through, unless I decide to join the military, and that's not gonna happen. They have us walk into situations with the bare minimum of information and confront said situation. These situations were colleague conflict, residents drinking, roommate conflict (hate crime), residents drinking/partying, possible rape/sexual assault (bloody scene, let me tell ya), and suicide (all you knew was an alarm clock was going off). Yeah.

- Classes are intense. Well, Neuroscience is intense. Sign language rocks my socks off so much I just wear flip flops. First aid is incredibly easy, and so is Biology. Honors, well, Honors is a buttload of reading, but it's fun reading. I'm learning about Ancient Rome. Heck. Yes.

- My residents are absolutely amazing. Really, I love them all dearly and they make my life happy (for now). My staff, some of the most wonderful people in the world and I am so incredibly grateful to God for allowing me this opportunity and placing me where He did. He definitely knows what He's doing.

Speaking of God. The bullhorn guys have been here. If you know me at all, you know that this pisses me off more than just about anything. They're horrible and they just make Christianity so belligerent and hostile. Which, last time I checked, it isn't. Pretty sure Christ was all about loving people. Pretty sure he was against the Pharisees because they were belligerent hypocrites that talked the talked and flouted the walk. Anyway. I'll stay away from that soapbox, for now. Well, my blood pressure was relatively higher than normal that day because they just aggravate me, I had a Neuroscience test and I had a paper due for Honors. To make things worse, I noticed they've brought their kids with them this time and have the children holding anti-abortion signs (the ones with the aborted babies on them). So I go to class and my Honor's professor, Doug, gives me this grand idea of going and playing with the kid, getting him away from all the confrontation. Brilliant, no? So. I get out of class and I go sit rather peacefully on the steps of the chapel for a few minutes and I notice that my friends Aaron and Andrew are there. They come over, we chat for a bit and we all agree that we want the kid away from all these belligerent people (the students were starting to barrage the kid with questions). Well, we find out what his name is and call him over to come talk to us. His name is Silas, by the way, and he's TEN. So, pray that he realizes that this isn't the way to bring Jesus to the world/the world to Jesus. It was an absolutely amazing opportunity, though. For me. God gave me the chance to take a situation that makes me so incredibly angry and find a better way to deal with, a chance to make it a happy situation and use it for His glory and to show His love instead of my anger. It was wonderful. We asked him just about every question we could possibly think of - favorite food, what animal he would be, if he has a pet, brothers, sisters, what he likes to do, what sports he plays, what his favorite subject and so on. He was adorable and soo polite. Aaron taught him how to make paper airplanes and then they had contests to see whose plane flew the furthest. It was adorable and I'm so glad that God allowed me to be there. And I'm glad that He showed me a way to change my attitude and perspective. What a lesson.

Anyway. That's my happy story for the evening.

My funny story for the evening:
A friend of mine from high school came to see me for a bit this evening. A friend that I'm not very close to at all and that I don't really have a lot of respect for. But that's beside the point, well, actually, it's the end of it. Anyway. We go get coffee and chat for a bit and then he decides to ditch me for his freshmen buddy. Deciding that it doesn't matter if I'm an RA, he proceeds to tell me about how they're gonna go get drunk in this kid's room, which happens to be on campus in a residence hall. Um, hello, we live on a DRY campus in a DRY county and I'M AN RA. He talks to me about this for about ten minutes or so, I remind him that I'm an RA and he was like "Yeah, I know. So?" Well, I walk him to the building, get in, meet this kid that he's drinking with, and find out his name and all the pertinent info. I let 'em go off to his room talking about how they're gonna go get plastered. What they don't know, though, is that I have to report this. It's my JOB. Poor kid, he chose a bad friend who's retarded enough to tell an RA what they're about to do. So, I call the RA on duty and tell them everything I know, we look up the room number and now she's going to keep an eye out for alcohol and such. I figure if he's retarded enough to tell me, I can be mean enough to turn him in. Besides, drinking that much isn't good for you, especially when you're driving to LR a few hours later. Nope, I'm not letting it happen if I can stop it.

I'm working on my life right now, which, considering I'm in college, is probably to be expected. God and I are most definitely working through some issues. I'm reading Wild At Heart throughout these few weeks (yes, I know it's technically for boys, but that's stuff girls need to know, it doesn't work well if only guys know it). And let me tell ya. That book is absolutely amazing and I'm learning all about the stuff I've done wrong and the few things I've done right. I'm also working hard on reading my Bible every day. It's wonderful when I do, but it's so easy to rationalize why I "don't have time." Which is a load of crock. But, yeah. God and I are working on it. I've done some stuff lately that I'm pretty much kicking myself for and wondering where/when that side of me showed up. But it's cool, because now that I know it's there, I can battle it. My self-confidence/self-esteem is goin' up, which is a wonderful feeling and it is so incredibly comforting and empowering to know that God loves me sooo much no matter my mood or what I've done. He still wants me fully and completely and He thinks I am absolutely gorgeous.

Well, I think this is long enough for now. I think I just needed to write. It feels good to pour out my thoughts into something. I've missed it. Life is so beautiful. I love you guys.

Wait

2007-08-13T01:46:00.000-05:00

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried; Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied. I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate... and the Master so gently said,"Wait." "Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply. "Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!" Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard? By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.
My future and all to which I relate hangs in the balance and you tell me to Wait?" I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign. Or even a 'no,' to which I'll resign. You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe, We need but to ask, and we shall receive. Lord, I've been asking, and this is my cry: I'm weary of asking! I need a reply.
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate as my Master replied again, "Wait." So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut, and grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting...for what?" He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine... and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign. I could shake the heavens and darken the sun. I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.
I could give all you seek and pleased you would be. You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me. You'd not know the depth of My love for each saint. You'd not know the power that I give to the faint. You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair; you'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there. You'd not know the joy of resting in Me when darkness and silence are all you can see.
You'd never experience the fullness of love when the peace of My spirit descends like a dove. You would know that I give, and I save, for a start, But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart. The glow of My comfort late into the night, the faith that I give when you walk without sight. The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask From an infinite God who makes what you have last.
You'd never know should your pain quickly flee, what it means that My grace is sufficient for thee. Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true, but oh, the loss if I lost what I'm doing in you. So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see that the greatest of gifts is to truly know me. And though oft My answers seem terribly late, My most precious answer of all is still "WAIT".