In Which I Learn Not to Volunteer

We have new youth pastors coming to the old church. This is great and wonderful, and I thought I would be helpful and help prepare for their arrival. Especially when I peeked into their office and saw that it was a complete wreck. I was at church for the afternoon anyway, until my mother was done work and could drive me home, so I decided to spend my time there doing my part and beginning to clear out the spaces. It's just wrong to come into that kind of mess at your new job. That was on Tuesday.

We just finished the first day of painting today, Thursday.

Somehow, three hours of moving computer parts has morphed into a four (or, gulp, five) day project mainly spearheaded by myself.

That'll teach me to volunteer.

Conflicting feelings

I'm excited about school in the fall and for my new job as a temp worker (sort of. Temp work=well-paid dullness), there are things here that sometimes shadow that.

I don't like posting about things that involve people other than myself who I know (i.e. my friends). So I haven't written about things like one of my best friends moving to Minnesota in a few weeks, or how another (former?) best friend's been shutting me out. I appreciate the friends I have, but sometimes my joy in them is dimmed by how I'm losing, in two different ways, relationships that I cherish.

I wish I could write something telling and eloquent, something that would somehow make sense of it. But there is nothing to make sense of; everything passes and changes; it is what it is. It's a bitter pill to swallow and I have no words to express it.

Great news and the reclamation of my soul

We got back from the two day registration/orientation session at University of Pittsburgh last night. Let me just say that I am extremely excited! Here are the classes I'm taking:

1. Intro to Islamic Civilization
2. Arabic 1
3. Observational Astronomy
4. Into to Economics
5. Japanese 3

I was disappointed that a course on Tolkien and Lewis was closed--but you can't have everything. I'll also be advocating my way into Japanese 4 if it's at all possible. That was the only part of the session that wasn't great--meeting with the head of the Japanese Department. He's a very nice, sweet, and stubborn old gentleman. He agreed to let me take third year Japanese; however, he didn't test me at all to see where my actual level is. I tried to show my ability as best I could; but when I gave him my textbook, saying that I should be done it by the time the fall term begins, he wouldn't even look at the table of contents--even though he said that he didn't know the textbook at all. He also refused to look at an essay I had brought to show him or speak to me at length in Japanese, although he refused in a very genteel way. Actually rather Japanese, now that I think about it.

I went down to the bookstore and flipped through the third year textbook and was dismayed to see that it's all grammar and so on that I learned last year! Since I'm still determined to proceed in Japanese, I'll probably need to be on this professor's good graces, so I decided not to push my luck aggravating him. But that doesn't mean I won't go to the teacher before classes start and beg her to test me and see if it's at all possible I could move up. My mother keeps telling me to be my own advocate--something I admit that I sometimes have problems with--and this is important enough to me that I'll be listening to her.

The second great thing that happened was that I found out today that I was accepted into Honors Housing! I am really excited: not only will I be surrounded by a group of students with a lower likelihood of being drunk party-ers, the actual building that houses the Honors Community is nicer than the one that most freshman get :). Also, it's a smaller environment, which is great for me. Pitt is a huge university, which can be pretty intimidating.

The third great thing is that I decided not to become a knife salesman. It was one of those things where I needed a job, but then after thinking about it for twenty four sort of sinking feeling filled hours, I decided I didn't need one that badly. The thought of giving a sales pitch makes my stomach knot. But getting the job did give me the confidence I needed to start calling around again. I have a job interview today and two tomorrow, so I think I'm pretty much assured of getting gainful employment. It probably won't pay as much as the Cutco thing, but I won't be miserable doing it. But more on that later.

Oh, and one last good thing? Pirates of the Caribbean, tonight! I highly doubt it'll be as good as the first one--the second definitely wasn't--but it does promise to be amusing. Perhaps even highly amusing. I'll let y'all know.

Having Officially Received Employment

10:30 AM: receive letter containing "SUMMER EMPLOYMENT OPPORTUNITY!!"
10:45 AM: schedule interview
5:00 PM: enter interview
7:30 PM: leave with job

Let me just say Praise God because I needed work, and was getting really discouraged with the lack of progress in that respect. Twelve hours ago this wasn't even on my radar; I was dreading having to submit to a dreary retail check-out existence.

So I'll be...selling knives?! Yes, I have received that time honored college job as a Cutco salesman. Although less boring than asking if you wanted fries with that, it's also definitely more terrifying. As in, extremely. As in, you have to start with people you know, and that's the scariest bit. Give a sales pitch? Me?

I've definitely got to see this.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot...

...Or leg, as the case may be. I informed the internet of my grand exercise plan a few days too soon. The following day I set off on my little one-mile loop; around half way through, I was doing well and pleased with myself until realized to my dismay that my leg was hurting. Not just hurting: burning. And not both legs, but just below the knee on the right leg (which is the area of the leg where I tore the lining of the muscle two years ago and was in physical therapy for for three months last years). By the time I made it home I was limping more than I had since last October (the last time it was really bothering me). That was a week ago. Although after resting it all night it was usable the next day, we made an appointment with the sports medicine doctor anyway.

Verdict: come back in two weeks after you've had an MRI. And no running in the meantime.

I'm kind of feeling guilty now because between this that and the other thing I'll have been to various doctors, eye doctors, dentists, and associated assorted medical personnel seven times by the time the month is over. That's a lot of co-pays, hours in waiting rooms, and gas...

Five Months Remembrance

Two little girls play crazy Barbie games in a room with a white painted floor with multicolored splashes. Suddenly a knock on the door comes.
"Who is it?" they call.
"Special Delivery!" comes the answer, and suppressing giggles the girls rush to hold the door closed. It rattles and the voice calls again, "Special Delivery! Open up!"
They wait in breathless silence and then finally open the door to peer out into the hallway.
"SHARK ATTACK!" and the girls are chased back into the room in a pile of shrieks and giggles.


Ten years later and five months ago that safe world crumbled. It seems like yesterday and yet an eternity ago that my friend's dad went to his eternal home. In brief flashes, the bright and cheery weather seems almost mocking that he won't be able to go out bike riding in it. Every time I panic that I've lost my house key there is a background of sadness that he won't be there across the street to lend me their spare. And as my friend and I start getting ready now to leave home, it's hard that he isn't here to be proud of her.

I didn't know what to say then and I don't know what to say now. Life goes on, but it's not the same.