So perhaps I'm turning into my mother.

I've bounced around a lot this year on my position on marriage. At some times I've felt very strongly that I do not want to get married, and at other times I've turned to goo at the thought of being the matriarch of Perfect American Nuclear Family. I guess I've thought a lot about it this year, and I can't say that I've necessarily reached a conclusion, but I certainly have learned a lot about myself.

For instance, I've learned that I am by nature a workaholic. I like to work. I really do. And sometimes I do it too often. I have a hard time saying no to extra shifts. Because I work so much, I don't have very much time spent at home, and when I am home, I don't want to do things I find trivial, such as housework, chores, cooking, homework, or spending time with my roommates. No, instead of those trivial things, I prefer to do things that certainly will last me a lifetime: check facebook, tweet, surf the web for music, lather, rinse, repeat.

Do you sense a problem here?

I'm working on it. Believe me. It's a struggle for me to actually make myself a meal, sit down, eat, and not rush off to work. Case in point: this video above. I worked tonight, picking up two extra shifts from a sick coworker (causing me to cancel plans with my roommates to make lamb shanks), and as I worked I thought of the yummy meal I wanted to make for myself when I got home. However, once home, all I wanted was to be fed and in bed. I didn't want to cook at all; I was too tired. So, I scrounged around for something tasty and ready to eat. (Let me tell you, it is annoying having no microwave... makes leftovers so much more difficult to figure out.) And I ended up with olives. A can of olives.

WHO THE HELL EATS A CAN OF OLIVES FOR DINNER?

I swear, I can't take care of myself. Which brings me back to my original thought, marriage. I think I need to get married because I need that constant reminder to take care of myself, and when I can't seem to manage that, I need someone to take care of me. My parents' kitchen has been and is to this day egalitarian: my mom and dad split dinner responsibilities fairly evenly. Both my parents work their asses off, so they're understanding of the other being too tired to cook. I so need that! There's this myth that women have to always cook. In the Watkins household, consider that myth busted. My mom worked just as hard as my dad, and there was never a gender/pride issue when it came to putting food on the table at dinnertime. (Especially with so many kids!)

Suppose that's another thing I've learned about myself: I, like my mother, am a career woman. I don't think I'll ever be content to be a housewife. Can't do it. I need to work. Even if I have a husband and five kids, I gotta work. (Haha especially if I have 5!) I guess that disqualifies me with at least half the single guys at my school, but I don't care. I briefly dated a guy at the beginning of the semester, and even though he said things to me like "I really respect your work ethic" I just couldn't believe him, because he was always complaining about being short on cash but very passive about seeking a job. What did he know about working 40 hours a week, including overnight shifts, while going to school? What did he know about rent and bills and groceries and budget and paychecks? Next to nothing. I just couldn't date him (well, for many other reasons as well) because there was no way he was going to connect with me on that level.

So here's my personals ad for Craigslist: SWF, HWP, workaholic, enjoys olives, ISO VGL, HWP, P, FS SM for LTR. (Oh the funny things you can find on the internet!) I'll let you know how that one turns out. Maybe I should swing back to my no-marriage-for-me stance.

The good news is, I'm only 21. I seriously don't need to have any answers at this point. Ideas, dreams, hopes, and reality checks are good enough for me for now. Enjoy the video. It's good to laugh at myself every once in a while.

For some reason they call it work.

On Sunday, sitting in the pew, I couldn't focus on the words spoken or the songs sung. I could only think of one thing: my patients.

My job is unique. I'm paid to take care of peoples' physical needs. But the more and more I'm in this job, the more I know it's so much more than a job. It's humanity.

It's so easy to think that I just show up and do stuff for eight hours and go home. I don't. The stupid, tiny, seemingly inconsequential activities of my job are the lifeline for my patients. When done haphazardly, I not only degrade their quality of life, I degrade them as human beings. I degrade their souls.

Even though my patients are in the last part of their lives; even though their bodies are broken, ready to go to a final rest; even though the world has in some ways forgotten them, I am seeing the image of God in these individuals. I am seeing their souls.

We are not bodies, we are souls.

God has entrusted me the care of these souls. Though I know not where they will be going to after their bodies have died, I am entrusted the keeping of these souls.

It is a blessed burden.

I think my heart has grown, nay come alive. When not caring, when not serving, parts of my heart lie dormant and rot away. I genuinely love my patients. It's a difference that long-term care makes. Hospitals are in and out; not so at my home. I have relationship. I have, in some ways, community. I have memories. Memories with persons who struggle to keep their own memories.

The love I have for my patients overwhelms me. Like in church on Sunday. It was all I could do to just sit and write down ever single name of my patients. When I wrote their names it wasn't just to look at the letters associated with a face. Every stroke of my pen, scribing their names, was an act of love. I could not shake the intense love I feel for them.

I don't remember the songs we sang or the words from the elders. I remember loving my patients.

So I'm crazy you say? I don't care. I have experienced pure love from souls who are hours away from being with Jesus.  Tell me when was the last time you had that.

My favorite patient. Her body is almost useless. She cannot live the life she once lived. Hell, she can't even talk. But she can love. When I look into her eyes, when she smiles her half-smile, when she touches my face, when she kisses my hand, my soul sings. I would forsake all the lovers of my youth for the affection of this woman. This decrepit, forgotten, dying woman. I will be happy when she is Home, but until then I will pour my heart out to love her soul.

87% of blogs are simply narcissisms. I'm definitely part of the majority.

It's amazing to me that you can see so many people on a daily basis and get to the end of the week and are wiped out. Here it is Friday night, the third week of school, and I've declined several tempting offers to socialize. I'm quite content to sit here, surf the web for music downloads, upload some photos to facebook, and possibly watch a  movie. I sound like a fuddy-duddy, no? Twenty-one years old and I'm as tired as my parents.

Let me paint a picture of my life at present, and perhaps you'll understand.

School has been beneficial. I started out the semester with 13 credits. I am now down to 6, and am okay with this. Yes, it is getting a little tiring, this conversation I have on an almost-daily basis: "Are you a new student?" "No, this is actually my fourth year." "Oh, are you a senior?" "No, I'm a sophomore and have no idea when I'll be a junior, let alone graduate." "What's your major?" "History." "What do you want to do with that?" "Graduate. Then go to nursing school." It seems like I'll never graduate sometimes. So I'm a little untraditional... so what? But I'm liking the two classes I'm taking, both in my majors. I'm glad I'm not taking four classes like I had originally planned, because I know I would have died.

Work. Is work. I'm at 32 hours a week. A blessing, yes, but probably the source of my near-constant fatigue. I've found that there's no such thing as an easy job. And when you think you're job is easy, you're probably not doing what you should be doing. It really comes down to making the decision, to do what you're supposed to do or be lazy and do whatever the flip you can get away with. It's so easy to take the lazy route, but I'm going to press on and do my job right. I just had my six month anniversary at my company yesterday. I'm pretty happy about that. My time at the facility I worked at last year lasted six and a half, so assuming I don't royally screw anything up too bad in the next couple weeks, I should outlive that job.

So there you have it. Work and school. They drain me. Plus, I feel that after a summer nearly void of any socialization with people my own age, going to school everyday and seeing everyone there for the last three weeks has been surprisingly exhausting. Almost as if I've oversocialized. I shall now resign to listening to music, downloading music, and writing songs that have been bouncing around inside my cranium.

An emo blog post with a bootleg vid of an indie chick. So Portland.

I'm really tired. It's only 11:02 a.m. Oi....

This is what the next four months will be like: Work at night, go home, shower, go to school for several hours, go home, sleep, wake up, and start it all again. Since school is less than two weeks away now, I'm trying to stay up as late as I would on any given school day, to get myself used to it. Since today is a Tuesday, and I'll have class until 10 on Tuesdays, I am just about to go to bed. Boy am I tired! This will be difficult, but I know the LORD with sustain me through this.

In addition to tired, I'm also feeling melancholy today. Last week someone died. I'm handling this better than I thought I'd be, but I'm still feeling emotions I didn't know I had. On Sunday I found out that the boy I in some ways consider to be my first love is engaged. To the girl that he chose over me when we were seventeen. I'm happy for them, I really am. Reading the engagement story she posted on facebook was painful for me, but necessary. It really showed me that we weren't meant to be. Still, I think back fondly to that cheesy high school dance and how I thought he was all I needed. I've grown so much since then, I'm so much stronger, and it's hard to believe I ever felt that way. Praise God for the things He has done in my life to show me how my life was meant to be so much different than I envisioned it at seventeen!

So I now resign to be for the "night" feeling tired and melancholy, and I will pray the LORD will take my mind off these things and allow me to focus on school. Two weeks of summer left, but I'm trying to cram it with homework. I really don't want to fall behind this semester... and getting As would be great too.

I should tell you that you were my first love.

Relapse

I used to shop as a way of coping with stress. I hate to admit, I did it a little bit today. Mind you, I bought things I needed (mostly), but when all is bought and brought home, those stressors are still there. Buying the kitchen stuff and backpack and porch table did not change my circumstances.

And now, an explanation for my absence. (Not that I owe it to anyone... I have a life, yo!) My last post was March 14. On March 9 I had two job interviews, one of which landed me a job almost immediately. On March 17 I was officially hired at an assisted living facility in Southeast Portland, specifically working in the Alzheimer's unit as a caregiver. No, it's not a CNA position, but at that point I knew I had to take it; I had no other choice, and I'm not that dense to not see it was straight from God! I started out doing two swing shifts and one noc (that is, night, or graveyard) shift a week. On April 15 (less than one month!) I was offered to train as a med aide, which was a promotion of sorts. I trained as a med aide on the noc shift, and for a while only worked on med aide shift every once in a while, then once a week, then filling in for some vacancies, and at the beginning of July (well, when I got back from California) I was finally given a set full-time schedule. I work the same four nights a week, with weekends free to boot! Also, after being there three months I became eligible for health and dental insurance. My mom is so proud of me for that! Haha. It's almost $50 out of every paycheck... oi!

The LORD has greatly blessed me. His Providence is astonishing, never ceasing to amaze me. He has shown me this year that He will always give me exactly what I need, exactly when I need it, and will always enable me to do exactly what He wants me to do. I've been so stinkin' blessed with a wonderful church family, especially in my cell group, and other friends in Portland who lift me up and demonstrate to me that I am not alone.

Also, I moved. I was so blessed to live with some friends from Multnomah when I first moved to Portland. They really helped me out, giving me a place to live, charging me a very small amount for rent, and encouraging me as I worked on getting myself established in Portland. After a few months, some of my own feelings of my living situation coincided with an invitation from two friends from my cell group to move in with them. I knew almost right away that it was right move. It was actually only three houses down the street! I'm very, very, very, very, very happy in my new house. My housemates are great, and I know it's what's best for me. The LORD provides! God is good all the time! All the time, God is good!

I went to California in July, but that's a post for another day. I'm currently listening to Taylor Swift, my summer obsession. I'm going to take a nap before work tonight. Have a good day, o three readers, you!

Writing

I believe I'm a good writer--when inspiration strikes.  When the proper inspiration has appeared, I have written poems, essays, short stories, emails, and blog posts that really satisfy me.  Even in homework assignments, I've written some good stuff.

Maybe you don't agree.  Well, I really don't care.  My writing makes me happy.  And I know it makes God happy.  Beyond that I seek to please no one.

I pray I may keep that tenacity this fall.  I will be taking Multnomah's most difficult and stressful class, Advanced Writing with Professor Pothen.  I can't decide what intimidates me more: the on-average 10-15 page paper, or the professor.  The prompt of the paper is simply this: Write about that which you can't not write.  I've been thinking about this prompt for the last two months.  I don't want to force a topic, because I know it will show.  I will do my best writing if I indeed follow the prompt.  But what can I not not write about?

I'll examine what I have written about.  This surely should show me what matters enough to me to write down my thoughts.  Much of my blog has been devoted to updating the reader on the goings-on of my life.  La-dee-dah, not writing my Pothen paper of the bildungsroman I have been witness to.  (Well, I'm sure that whatever topic I choose will have something to do with some life experiences.)  Other posts have regarded my experiences with depression and a myriad of issues that accompany it.  I sometimes feel I could write ten papers on such issues!  I remember a particular blog I wrote in December of 2005, my senior year of high school.  I was expressing my disgruntlement with the commercialization of Christmas.  Then I got on the subject, somehow, of how Christians just pay lip service and really don't mean anything we profess with our lips, because our actions don't match.  It was actually a milestone in the development of my faith.  It was probably the first time I examined the Church and came to a conclusion that was not rosy.

There is an ever-dynamic list of possible topics.  They will most certainly be vomited onto this blog.

I'm in a hyper-linking kind of mood.

My friend Brandon reminded me today that I am behind in blogging.  I've got some good blogs knocking around in this brain of mine.  Perhaps it is time to spill some of that bloggy goodness out.

Yesterday I made PostSecrets.  They turned out quite well, and today I sent them!  This was exciting, because though I have made one before I've never sent one.  Yeay!

Today I spent the day with a new-ish friend Anna.  We both went to Multnomah together my freshman year before she transferred to Azusa Pacific in Los Angeles.  But actually, we never really ever talked at all when we were at Multnomah together.  My only memory of Anna is this: She wore a really kick-ass Sleeping Beauty shirt.  I really liked it, and thought to myself "I need to be friend with this girl, simply so I can borrow that shirt."  Seriously, she wore it a lot, and every time she did, I had this thought.  After a while, I did start to feel guilty; I mean, use someone for a stinkin' t-shirt?  Yeah.  Anyway, we never talked that year.  At some point we became friends on facebook.  The irony is that our friendship stemmed from facebook.  We talked back and forth a bit, and now have hung out twice since I moved back to Portland.  So, it was nice to spend time with my new-ish friend Anna, and I look forward to seeing where this friendship goes.

After Anna and I crashed Zichterman's Hebrews through Revelation class, we sat outside to enjoy the rare Portland sunshine (that Anna totally brought with her from L.A.).  Our friend Brandon approached us and our conversation turned to blogs (a favorite topic, as we all are bloggers) and B$ (that's B-money for your uneducated folk) caused me to remember my lack of updates.  I told him that I've got approximately three blogs that I'm mentally working on.

Then Anna and I went to Burgerville and got the most delicious Rosemary Shoestring Potatoes (yum!) and shakes.  Throughout the day I was taking pictures with my Canon AE-1, and I look forward to how they turn out.  I got a lot of people shots.  I like taking advantage of our sunny days because I really don't know much about light.

That's about all I did today.  I like being on Spring Break.  Now I'll try to systematize my thoughts for future blogs.

(I Struggle With) Forward Motion

So, I really want to blog.  But, I really need to do a rather large amount of history homework.

Compromise: I will do history until 11, then blog before my newly-self-imposed bedtime of midnight.

Ciao.

*fin

In less than one hour, I will turn twenty-one years old.  Though I have looked forward to this passing for many years, as I sit here typing to you, I am scared shitless.

Okay, that was a dramatic statement.  Perhaps not scared shitless, but part of me feels like I am on the edge of a precipice; I am aware of my potential--and necessity--to do something big.  The only question is, will this big thing be for my betterment or for my demise?  At this moment I am aware that I am no longer capable of living a neutral life.  I am on either the extreme of surrendering myself to God or enslaving myself to my selfish desires.

I've talked a lot in the last year about growing up and not being a child anymore.  Talk, talk, talk.  I'm a big talker.  Now is the time to be a doer.  Perhaps this is where my initial statement of fear stems from.  I'm afraid of... not satisfying every teensy desire that crosses my mind, not living for myself, thinking things out a lot more than I'd like to... doing the hard work.  I suppose this exposes what an easily distracted, small, remiss person I am.  It's time to rise above that.

No, I can't do it on my own.  Lord, fill me with your Spirit, make me steadfast, and may I learn to love your Word.

This will be my first birthday spent away from my family.  Yes, I'm going home this weekend, but this is the first February 18 that I will not be in the loving arms of my mother, father, and siblings.  It's not that I feel alone, I just suddenly realize that this life is mine.  I moved to Portland to be my own independent person, and here I have it.  I finally got what I wanted.  Separation from my family.  I am left with a slightly raw feeling in my heart which causes me to examine what I am living for now that I can no longer live for my family.  The lens through which I now view the world is not dictated by Mom, Dad, my brothers, or my sisters.  I still love them, yes.  Perhaps too much--a sin of idolatry I have been guilty of for years.  I feel the Lord is now finally pulling that from me, allowing me to live a life completely my own... and yet, a life not meant for me.

And here I stand on this precipice.  This is the life of Caroline.  What does it stand for?  What does it witness?  Will it crumble, as a weak wall on a fault, or will it thrive, infecting the very air it touches?

Quick Update

1. Rachel Anna Dial is my best friend in the entire world.

2. As is Katherine Michelle Dial.

3. My housemates are awesome.

4. DeDe and I decided to put moving in together on hold indefinitely.  It's just not going to work out for either of us at the time.  Fortunately this decision was quite mutual so we're still friends!

5. The house I'm in now is now my permanent residence.  Yeay!  To celebrate this, Rachel and I went out on Saturday and bought bookshelves for my room.  They're wonderful.

6. Told you this would be a quick update.

Poor College Student Discovery #78-b

When the box of Rice-a-Roni says to let it cool for a minute before you shove it in your mouth, do so.

Poor College Student Discovery #78

I've been buying boxes of macaroni and cheese.  The good stuff (Kraft) is the yummiest, but I only buy it when it's on sale for a dollar.  The store brand is usually a dollar, but on sale it can go for $0.75.  It is certainly more filling than the Kraft stuff, but not as tasty.

And yes, Captain Obvious, these are in no way healthy for me.  But when you have no income and bills to pay, food is the first thing to get cut from your budget.

On Friday I was filling my basket with my usual macaroni and cheese (yes, seventy-five cents a box!), a red tag boasting "$1.00" caught my eyes.  I walked a few paces to the left of the macaroni and saw that it was Rice-a-Roni.  "Sweet.  This has more flavor variety than the usual mac, plus it's rice, so it's probably better than bleached starchy nutrientless store brand pasta."  Plus, it was a dollar.  My new gold standard on whether or not I am spending my money well is whether or not I can get a meal for a dollar.  I got five boxes, very satisfied with my purchase.

I made my Rice-a-Roni tonight.  It's a slightly longer process than mac-n-cheese, but it also involved no draining water.  Score.  When my delicious broccoli au gratin was done, I served it up into a dish.  What?  What's this I see?  There's still a ton in the skillet!  Can this be?  I just got two meals out of one box!  I actually put up leftovers!  Not only is it delicious, and healthy(er), but there's enough to make two meals.

I am so blessed to see how, around every corner, the Lord is just providing for me in ridiculous ways.  I can't even begin to count the ways He's provided, and the only appropriate response I can think of is to give Him thanks and to continue to trust Him.

Entertaining Angels

Well, now's as good a time as any to update the old bloggeroo.  You may be wondering one or more of the following: Where are you living?  Where are you working?  How is school?  I am still living with Rachel and Emily, and I'm settling in quite well.  I'll be here at least until the end of the month.  Deeds and I are still looking for a place, as her lease ran up on Jan. 31... I actually haven't talked to her since last week, so as far as I know she's keeping her stuff at a friend's place and couch surfing.  We're supposedly looking for sublets (read: no credit-check) on Craiglist.  Mom, please refrain from freaking out.  Or telling Dad.  Ha.  I'm not working.  I have dropped off over twenty applications and resumes to many employers.  I had two interviews yesterday that went really well.  One restaurant G.M. said he really liked me, was very impressed, and will put my application and resume at the top of the pile, signed by him... but they're not hiring until maybe March.  The other restaurant gave me two interviews, told me they're probably hiring soon, though they wouldn't be able to offer me too many hours.  I'm still waiting to hear from them; it sounded like they needed to decide if I would be a good hire.  I had another interview today at a clothing store; the store manager forgot to show up so his wife interviewed me.  I'll probably be called in again so he can do it for real.  Thanks for costing me the $2 bus fare.  Hello, unemployed?  The search ensues....  School is great.  I'm really enjoying my Spanish class at Portland Community College.  It's a nice sigh of relief to not be in a hyper-Christian environment.  I really love learning Spanish, and I really love the class I'm in, and I really really really love taking the bus a half-hour each way.  No, seriously.  My Multnomah class is going quite well.  I finished my first assigned reading and met with Dr. Scalberg yesterday.  I was pleased to find that he really enjoyed by review!  "Good review.  You captured the essence of the book's purpose.  Prof. Eccles would be pleased."  Wow, well, gee!  Thanks, mister!  My next reading is about the Indians.  In the library today, picking up the book, I got a little too interested in the topic and came home with eight extra books!  Hey, I can't help it that this incredibly interesting (and not to mention vital!) topic in our history was deprived of me growing up.  I am determined to shed the notions of Indians that were ingrained in me as a child; I must seek out the truth for myself.

Not much else to update you on, I suppose.  My birthday is in two weeks, and I will finally be 21.  Don't know what I'll do.  I have no money, so I should choose to go out with friends who will want to treat me, no?  Hehe.  The movie Coraline comes out this weekend, so maybe I'll go to a 21+ theatre on my birthday to see it.  The weekend after my birthday I am going home to be with family.  I need to see my godmother, who shares my birthday, and Laura and I want to go to the new Snoqualmie Casino, because neither of us have been to a casino.  I doubt either of our parents would give us even a $20 for fun money, and since neither of us have even the slightest to spare (seriously, an Americano is a once-a-week splurge), it's looking like we'll be there for the scenery.  And to say we went to the new Snoqualmie Casino, of course.  Bob Saget is performing that Saturday, and I really want to go, but again, no moolah.  Alas, it will still be a good birthday, just doing what Laura and I do best.

Wow, I just spent an entire paragraph talking about my birthday.  Somebody shoot me, please?

Per Tradition

 Not the prettiest picture(s) of me, but Momma dictates a picture of me on the first day of school.  Always.  Who am I to say no to Momma?

Also, I've been listening to Garth Brooks today.

DeDe and I went today to put in our application for the apartment at Kateri Park I wrote about yesterday, and someone applied before us, and they wouldn't have another unit available for another month.  Awesome.  So tomorrow, we are getting up at the "butt-crack of dawn... like, 11:00" (DeDe's words) to go to apartments all day.  Also awesome.  By the way, when I'm saying "awesome" I really mean "not awesome".

I'm clearly not going to get through all my mountains of paperwork to get a CNA 1 Endorsement in Oregon before, I dunno, my money runs out, so I've decided that tomorrow will also be a day for me to apply for jobs as well as apartments.  For some reason Target keeps on popping into my head.  I don't know why, but what the heck, why not?  It may just come down to picking a street and going door-to-door asking for applications.  I'll take almost anything at this point.

Spent the evening with an old friend.  We read, talked, shared stories, and made delicious tuna sandwiches.

That's about all for now.

A Quick Update

I'm sick.  Cold, probably.

This morning I got up at 5:30 to go to the bathroom and blacked out, waking up with my face on the bathroom floor.

I'm not yet registered for class at PCC, even though the quarter began yesterday.  This is because I only want to take Spanish 102, but PCC has not yet received my Green River transcript, indicating I have taken the prerequisite Spanish 101.  I'm going to go to class tomorrow anyway and explain the situation to the teacher, and tell him that I'll register as soon as I'm able.  It probably doesn't help that I didn't go to the class on Monday (it's a Monday Wednesday class) because I was sick.  Okay, so I'll be a little behind.

I'm unemployed.  This needs to change.

Dede and I went to look at some apartments today.  We found one that we're going to apply for tomorrow.  Funny enough, it's right next to Kateri Park.  Kateri Park is an apartment complex that serves as a refugee resettlement program through Catholic Charities.  This is where I volunteered for a semester back in freshman year for a student ministry requirement.  The funny thing is, I had been praying and asking the Lord if I should go back there and do more work there.  If I were to move into this apartment, it would be impossible to not be a part of the Kateri Park community!

Other than that, nothing too new.

Sick.  Unemployed.  Unschooled.  These things need to change.

Bookshelf = Window

I've made it to Portland!  I'm in my basement bedroom, or Bat Cave, as Rachel calls it.  My furniture consists of the dresser I brought down, a desk that I'm borrowing from the house, a borrowed lamp, and a borrowed mattress.  (The borrowed elements will not follow me to the new apartment... Craigslist much?)

I don't have a digital camera to give you an instant view of my place.  But I will describe to you the books on my desk.  I was not able to bring all of my books, as I desired, so I grabbed the ones I knew I'd want that would fit into a large canvas tote.

Hymnal

The American People (history text from Spring quarter at Green River)

Dangerous Surrender by Kay Warren (DON'T you dare prejudge and think that since she's from a megachurch and that her husband is Rick Warren that it's just a fluff book. I heard her speak at Urbana '06 on this topic and it was powerful.)

The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey

Hebrew Grammar by Weingreen (I want to brush up on it before I retake it in the Fall... I really do not want to fail!)

The Declaration of Independence and Other Great Documents of American History (yes I am that nerdy)

Don't Waste Your Life by John Piper

Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community by Wendell Berry

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine

The Shack by William P. Young

The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne (which reminds me, I need to get books by Jim Wallace)

The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan

Get Happy: The Life of Judy Garland by Gerald Clarke (Christmas gift from Ian... I'm enjoying it, though it is depressing at times)

Twilight by Stephenie Meyer (sister is making me, plus I felt the movie, though strong in plot, lacked in character development, which I have heard will be present in the book)

Systematic Theology by Wayne Grudhem

On top of the books is propped a Scripture I collaged a year ago: 2 Corinthians 10:3-6  Beside the books is my photo album from my trip to Washington, D.C. in March, and next to that is a small stack of magazines.  I feel naked without magazines!  But score, I got new issues of my three favorite (Relevant, Smithsonian, and Real Simple) right before I left.

On the wall in front of my desk are two calendars.  One is a Grey's Anatomy calendar from my sister.  The other is in Spanish and is from a Catholic cemetery.  I love it because it's all in Spanish and every day list which saint's day it is, plus there is Scripture thrown in all over.  It's awesome.

I took a picture of me on my computer this morning before I left for a wedding.  Again, I can't figure out how to position the photo.  Agh.