Let's Get Reflective

So yesterday we had to take pipe cleaners and make something that represented how we see God everyday. This is what I made. "why?" you ask. Well, here's why. I made two people (engaging in a side-hug of course. I mean are we Christians or are we Christians?) and I did that because lately I've been seeing God as my comforter.

At first I thought this task was sort of impossible because I see God so many different ways at any given point in my day, but this is the most prevalent way as of late. When I'm in school, I'm in school. I give everything I have. I think about Iago in the shower, and I dream about Charles Dickens at night. Consequently, being out of school kind of made me feel at a loss. Almost unneeded. I had no tasks to complete; no one was waiting on me to finish something and turn it in. What was I supposed to be doing?! Then there's Fall. Forget knowing where I'm going, I don't even know what direction I'm supposed to turn my foot for my next step. And then this summer. Going to camp where the catch phrase is "flexible" (not literally) and not knowing who will be there, or who my students will be, or what I'm going to encounter on site.

But as I was given this project and I started to reflect on what's been happening in my life, I realized I'm pretty much all caught up on processing, and I'm not really afraid or worried about any of the unknowns in my life. God is my comforter even though I never cried out to Him in desperation for one. He has protected me from fear and anxiety, and given me opportunity to focus on His glory and my purpose (which is a little redundant of me to say, but true). No, I am not in the least worried about what I''m going to say June 7th when my first campers get here. And no, I am not upset or troubled in the least about July 28th-ish when I end up back in central Alabama with absolutely no plans. My God is in control, and he comforts me when I don't have the answers. It reminds me of one of my favorite Psalms.

Psalm 62:5-8 "My soul, wait in silence for God only, For my hope is from Him.

He only is my rock and my salvation, My stronghold; I shall not be shaken.

On God my salvation and my glory rest; The rock of my strength, my refuge is in God. Trust in Him at all times, O people; Pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us.

Bet you didn't expect all that from pipe-cleaners, now did you?

Desert Island

I love this game.

If I were on a desert island and I could only bring:

3 books, they would be

• Bible. It's living, how can you tire of it?
• Anna Karenina, so much to analyze
• Complete works of Jane Austen, she's a genius

2 movies, they would be

• An Education, so beautiful and heart-breaking and amazing
• Peter Pan, original Disney, it will always be my favorite

1 nonessential treat, it would be

• Chapstick, an endless supply of, lest I die and I'd probably make my own toothbrush because I would never survive without one.

And you?

Skeptical

Last summer I met some super amazing people. It was a hard summer. I cried, I hurt, I wanted to die at least once, but it was so rewarding, and if I could relive it, I would. It is for this reason that I am torn about working camp again this summer. I know I'm going to love my new staff and have just as much fun, but I don't know how that's even possible. I'm not going to dwell on it because then I'll start missing my FUGE09, but I am curious about a few things.

Will they completely love an awkward family photo like we did?

Will they think Flarp is the funniest like we did?

Will they be able to rock a fro, rollar blades, and American flag shorts in one photo like this?

Or even just love America like we did? Live the dream.

Will they think Wild Sweet Orange is the best like Miss Alice and I did?

Will they think paper party is the worst like Baby Nick and I did?

Will they be okay with me speaking "site baby" English like Jakobi and I did?

Will they think a crazy praise is the weirdest like we did?

Get ready FUGE 2010. You've got big shoes to fill.

Secret Saturday Lives On

I know I have neglected you faithful few, so to make up this secret Saturday is going to be saturated. Fasten your seat belts. :]

I'll be honest. Sometimes I'm needy. Sometimes I talk to myself, sing to myself, and yell at other people when myself is the only one who can hear. I used to have a list. And not just of boyfriend qualifications, but of careers and places to live and names for babies that P.S. I am terrified about having. I like the Winter and I love it when it rains. I hate having to repeat myself, but I love when people can communicate with their eyes. I forever want country music to get out of my life, and I am sometimes gangster in my car with Ice Ice Baby and Run DMC. Every now and then I cry, but mostly my cheeks just hurt from smiling. My hair gets stuck in my seatbelt and car door a lot, and brushing my teeth is one of my favorite things to do. Ever. I'm just a girl, but I don't think that's a bad thing at all.

Post-grad

Here's what I know about what I'm doing with my life.

And, done.

Graduation!

This is it; it's GRADUATION! what?! I have no idea how I got here, but here, I certainly am. I'm super excited, but kind of nervous now. Not because I'm graduating, but because in my minute long walk across stage (that's right an entire minute) I plan on waving, having at least 2 hair flips, and winking between 3 and 4 times. That's a lot of activity for one walk. And I have to pull it off because I already demonstrated my walk to at least 5 people, and prepared another 12 for my upper body antics. If you'd like to see this happen, you can watch here (I'll be the one wearing the black)

saturdays aren't ever secret anymore.

I only feel comfortable sharing this secret because I know that none of the sweet people who actually read my blog will use it against me, at least I hope not. I mean, if you did, there's something seriously wrong with you... But this week's secret is, I am afraid of knives. Like for real, legitimately scared of them. I think it probably links back to a traumatic experience I once had. Picture it. Freshman year. 2006. There I was, nerdy, overachieving, 17 year old Jenna in dire need of opening a $90 graphing calculator (that I would never end up using in class) for my 9:25 precalculus class. I understand that it's necessary to package children's toys securely so that no parts are missing, and no one chokes without parental consent, but calculators? Come On! So here I am, fighting intensely with plastic strong enough to anger the Hulk (if he were to battle plastic...you get the point), sweat drops breaking out on my forehead because clearly if I don't have this calculator for class, I. will. fail. So I call my friend Kimberly (another overachiever who happens to be studying on campus) and she says, "oh, I have my pocketknife; you can come use it."

aside: Dear innocent Jenna, don't go. Just go to class and write your problems down with your pencil. You will pass the class without the calculator, and you will never use calculus again. Love, future Jenna who only uses math to calculate sale discounts

Now, this pink swiss army knife of doom looked innocent enough, but alas, it was secretly evil. I started sawing-away from my body mind you- and the plastic didn't do anything. So I applied more force. As you may have already inferred, Math/not my thing, so it never actually occurred to me that if I added force, it would increase something else. Like the chances of me dying. So the knife cut and slipped through the plastic and into my thumb. It was surreal. I could see a huge gap in my hand, but it didn't hurt. I thought, "I am going to be late for class. Sigghhhhhhhh" Then 2 seconds later, my blood was pouring everywhere. 5 stitches later, I had a half-opened calculator, my first absence in college, and wounded pride. I fought the pocketknife of doom, and it won. And it wasn't even my enemy! The calculator was what I wanted to take down! So fast forward 4 years, and knives make me a little nervous. I try not to show it, because it's kind of dramatic and weird, but today when I was cutting cantaloupe, I cut my finger, so for the next little bit I think I'm going to confine myself to sporks.

Moral of the story? AUM doesn't clean their bathrooms daily. My thumb blood was in the hall for a week. ewwwwwwww.

Another secret, I've joined this endeavor, and it's pretty cool. Lots of cool people with excessive amounts of talent. You should visit often.

Studypalooza?

I got distracted while using Spark Notes to distract me from my real studying. Here's what I found:

Tips For Graduation.

Ways to make your pictures with family count...

And ways to make your tassel useful.

The whole slide show is hysterical. Or maybe I'm just overwhelmed and under rested. Either way, you can find it here.

Shakespeare paper of doom

Here's what I encounter during finals week:


"If we rule out clairvoyance, it is a mystery irretrievably beyond the plucking out. And the tacit corollary, as we said, seems to be that other minds than Ham- let's, being equally unique and invisible, are equally enigmatic; and all attempts to penetrate them equally reduced to a futile indirection."


-pages and pages of this sort of stuff that I have to read and reread at least 5 times before I understand it, and another 4 times before I figure out where to plug it into my paper. Consequently there will be no Secret Saturday today. You may thank Hamlet for that.