our roommate days are numbered

Tiffany is moving away on Saturday.

creed

"Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs. We are, and must be, one and all, burdened with faults in this world: but the time will soon come when, I trust, we shall put them off in putting off our corruptible bodies: when debasement and sin will fall from us with this cumbrous frame of flesh, and only the spark of the spirit will remain, -the impalpable principle of light and thought, pure as when it left the Creator to inspire the creature. I hold another creed, which no one ever taught me, and which I seldom mention; but in which I take delight, and to which I cling: for it extends hope to all: it makes Eternity a rest- a mighty home, not a terror and an abyss. Besides, with this creed, I can so clearly distinguish between the criminal and his crime; I can so sincerely forgive the first while I abhor the last: with this creed revenge never worries my heart, degradation never too deeply disgusts me, injustice never crushes me too low: I live in calm, looking to the end."

Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

for the love

Megan: "Bethany, I thought about it for a long time. I really only have one serious life regret, and that is--"

Me: "That we fought so much when we were growing up, right? It's mine too."

Megan: "That's not it."

I love her deeply

Currently listening to Sufjan Stevens

hmm...

Last night Ryan and I were praying over our new friend Aaron. We were all three standing outside, at night, in a parking lot, under a tree.

We had our eyes closed for quite a while and when we finished and looked up, Ryan had a PRAYING MANTIS on his NECK. This thing was the length of my middle finger.

For serious.

Ryan was completely unaware of this and started talking vibrantly about how excited he was to see God’s work in Aaron’s life and what a great time of prayer we just had. I was the first to notice the beastly insect about to kill my friend, so naturally I say in a very seriously low voice “Ryan…don’t move” as I walk toward him with my nalgene raised above my head and the look of death in my eye.

Ryan had an amazing expression on his face because he had NO IDEA what was going on. I wish I could describe it.

I knocked the evil spindly creature off his head with no injury to his cranium.

SUCCESS!!

Then Aaron and I explained to Ryan what happened, and he proceeded to freak out and run away from his spot under the tree after I had already taken care of the problem.
Hellooooo…

Ryan ripped off his hoodie and insisted on finding the praying mantis. Then he got all worried because he couldn’t find the praying mantis. Such a boy thing to do, I say. It’s over. I saved your life. Let’s go home.

And then…I feel a tingling sensation on my neck.

“Guys….is there something--?”

I couldn’t even finish before those two boys screamed like little girls and ran away from me.

They ran away from me!

Of course it’s the evil praying mantis, on MY NECK this time and I had to SAVE MYSELF because the boys ran away! I knocked the little devil off my hair and this time we found him and glared at him on the concrete for a while and dared him to jump on us again.
Then Ryan doubled over and laughed harder than I’ve ever seen him laugh.

“It was a praying mantis…while we were praying…”

The irony.

Can't steal happiness

Have a good weekend, friends!

Currently listening to the Ting Tings.

la musique

This is Lakes.

I'm such a freaking girl

I have another paper due on Thursday. It's an interpersonal communications case study. My job is to find any movie clip that depicts any two people interacting and analyze it enough to fill up 8 pages double spaced in 12 point font.
Fine.
But do I start straight in to work on the paper? No. I pick the sweetest, cheesiest scene I can possibly find and watch it over and over, sighing and smiling.
Enjoy.

les reves

Ok friends, I had the craziest dream the other night. I'm sure you will find it amusing:

I was in charge of house-sitting a mansion in the middle of a lovely prairie with a stream running through the back yard. It's full of windows and sun-light and baby grand pianos and walk-in closets full of beautiful silks. And in this house is a ruling fat cat. Very fat.
And I'm not a cat person.
But, in the interest of enjoying myself in this beautiful getaway, I decide to befriend the cat. Well, the cat took well to me and never left me alone. He was a very needy fat cat and I always found him right next to me because there were no doors in this mansion to separate me from the feline.
One day I left the mansion to go out shopping, but the deal was that I had to take the cat with me wherever I went. So I put the cat on a leash and walked downtown. That's what you do with cats, right? So I'm power-walking down the busy street, and this cat is just not having it. It's walking slow and I'm basically dragging the cat. I think it occured to me at some point here that it was not nice to drag cats by a leash hooked to their collars, but I've only ever had dogs (with big, thick necks), and you can reason with a dog, people. You can look a dog in the eye and tell them they need to shape up and walk faster and they will. Cats won't.
Anyway, I had all these clothes to try on at ATC and some pretty, jeweled headband in a dressing room, with me and the fat cat, when the cat laid on the floor and died.
It just died.
I didn't make any move to kill it, I didn't want it to die! But I suppose it had been slowly choking during our whole walk downtown and decided to just give up on life right there in the dressing room.
Then, as I was inwardly panicking about what I was going to do, a resurrected cat rolled out of the dead cat and stood up and stared at me. This cat wasn't fat. It was the perfect version of the dead cat, and my beautiful jeweled headband had turned into a magic collar round its neck that gave it back its life.

And this cat could talk and told the world of how I made it suffer when it only wanted to love me and I rotted in jail for cat abuse.

There it is.


Currently listening to Brooke Fraser

Oh my Morgan

In the spirit of procrastination (I have yet to finish my rhetorical criticism paper), and my deep devotion for Morgan, I simply MUST republish a blog she wrote about herself a few days ago.
If you don't know Morgan, I'd be delighted to introduce you. She's the best, most beautiful 5 foot 11, mystery race friend any girl could ever ask for. And she's a major celebrity in India.

Here's some things she knows for sure about herself:

• On my tombstone, I want this description of a delicious FairTrade coffee that we got from Trader Joes: "Bright, Sweet, and mildly Nutty."
  
• If I get married, at my wedding rehersal:
  --Everyone will walk down to aisle to the original Oompa-Lumpa song.
  --I will deliver the "Maiwage" (marriage) speech off Princess Bride.
  --At the real wedding, I'll come down the aisle to "I am the rose"...you don't know it, I'm sure. But there's this great climax where the doors will fling open and BOOM, BABY! There I'll be. I'll sing it for you sometime.
  
• I won't have pets, probably. Except maaaaybe goats. And then I'd milk them and make cheese.


• Whatever I do long-term, it will involve public speaking, world travel, writing, and counteracting social injustice. Passionately.


• And many more things. But that's all that comes to mind at the moment.
  

Another reason to love Morgan: she sent me this postcard from India.

Currently listening to O.A.R.

"He has paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us in the deepest, most inexorable sense of the word."

-C.S. Lewis, Problem of Pain

:(

Friends, it's a sad day to be a grown-up.
I just put myself on a budget.

La Musique

There's big news in the life of my music library.
Two of my all-time favorite artists released new albums and I bought them on the same day.
Ready?




Jars of Clay. It's a 5 song EP. Three of tracks are brand new, of those "Closer" is my favorite--altogether lovely and jam-worthy. They have a remix of "Flood (new rain)", which has fit the Kansas City weather quite well in these last few days. They also have a remixed version of "Love Song for a Savior" which is so sweet it just makes me cry. So good.



Then we have Patty. Bless her. This album has 16 live tracks, and proves her genius because she's one of those few great artists who sound better live than recorded.
I still think her music is therapy.









Since when am I a music critic? Time to quit.
Check out my adorable parents down below!

26 years

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Your love for each other means more to me than anything in life ever could.

I love you both, studly and lovely.

Joyeuse Anniversaire

Today is my half birthday.
Not a big deal to most people, but due to a (now) hilarious childhood experience, I remember it each year.
When I was growing up, I spent one birthday in the United States. I was 6, turning 7. My missionary parents were on furlough and we happend to be at my grandparent's house on March the 10th, my birthday. Major deal to me. I have 10 cousins, so they all came over and Mimi got me a cake and candles and balloons and gifts. Very American-girl thing to do and I relished feeling celebrated in the typical American way.

As I remember it, the lights were switched off and the candles were lit and my family was singing to me, when my little cousin started crying, because since she was born on September 10th, my birthday was her half birthday and no one cared about her enough to wish her "happy half-birthday" or get her a cake and presents, and she was miserable.

So, to remedy the situation, someone cut my cake in half, put some candles on it and we then sang "Happy Half Birthday" to her and she got some of my balloons. This totally rained on my little parade and I pouted for the rest of my birthday over not getting all the attention at my party.
Ha!

Dear young man standing at a busy intersection by the plaza, wearing dress slacks and tailored wool sweater with stylish leather shoes, listening to an ipod and holding a cardboard sign reading "help for the homeless" on one side and "i'm too sexy for the streets" on the other;

NOIWILLNOTGIVEYOUMONEY!!!

What I learned at school today

When you subconsciously choose the handicapped bathroom stall over the regular one because it's easier to turn around with your purse still on your shoulder...

It's time for a smaller purse.

Today was a real good one

Well, it started oddly.
I woke up to lightning and thunder at 4.30 am and couldn't go back to sleep. So I decided the most logical thing to do at that time would be to bake a pie for Sharon. I mean, I bought the stuff to make it. It's her favorite. I'm trying not to be a sucky roommate. Why NOT bake a pie at 5 am?
Then my pie baking was interrupted by a frantic call from work. They were out of a crucial ingredient needed to make a signature menu item. So I threw on yesterday's clothes and hauled it all over God's creation in record time to fetch what needed fetching and made sure the good people got their breakfast by 7 am. Supergirl? check.
Next, I battled early morning rush hour traffic in the rain for an hour and finally made it to Broadway early for a little Savior-lovin' before I met with some beautiful ladies.
The day slowed over coffee, chatter, smiles, and appreciation for vulnerability.

And then we headed over to Jerusalem Cafe and I may have eaten my body weight in hummus.

Back at work at 2pm, and the little ones were more precious than usual. Or maybe it's just that it was a slow rainy monday and I got to focus on how precious they were, instead of frantically running around like I usually do. I just love their faces.
"Bethany, do you think I should play soccer this year?", "Where should I go to college?", "How am I gonna figure out how to be a good leader?", "Can I have a hug?", "Where's this?", "Where's that?", "Can you fix it?", "How does this work?", "What'd I do wrong?", and the staple:
"I NEED YOU RIGHT NOW!"

Ugh. Eat my heart out.

The dinner party is tomorrow night at our place. Please come.



currently listening to The Weepies, Hideaway.

amen!

I had the best conversation with a stranger today. I looooooove good conversations with interesting strangers, by the way.
I was at Jiffy Lube getting my oil changed. I know I know, you're thinking "she's the kind of person I hate in strange waiting rooms", BUT, this guy started talking to me first. This time.

He was a Jewish man from Ethiopia. SO COOL! And, he might have been the smartest person I've talked to in a long time. I found out by the end of the conversation that he had 3 degrees in history, archaeology, and religion.
We started talking about Christianity and Judaism and missions and America and the Old Covenant and Jesus and I just loved it. He told me all kinds of things about the 12 tribes of Israel and the ancient Roman and Greek empires, and THEN he started breaking down for me how all the different denominations were born and the reformation, all of which made perfect sense when he explained it but I don't think I could spit it back out.
Then he said this:
"Everyone now believes something different, their own version of how to live for God. But religion was not always so complicated. Jesus was not a philosopher, he just did as his father said."
Thank you, Mr. Ethiopian wise man.

prettiness

Can you BELIEVE the beautiful goodness I got for $10 at the river market this morning?
Let me elaborate:

• 1 cluster of grapes
• 5 limes
• 4 plums
• 3 tomatoes
• 5 bananas
• 1 red pepper
• 1 bundle of fresh basil
• the most beautiful fall flowers ever in the world

TEN DOLLARS

come with me next week!

Morgan: "I have the best idea! We should wake up early and ride our bikes through Johnson Park! Then make coffee and go to city market, then come back to the condo and eat our fruit."

Me: "That sounds so perfect! My bike has a flat, though. But I could probably get it fixed before Saturday."

Morgan: "That's ok. I don't have a bike anyways."

i still hate palm trees

It was cold yesterday, and wet.
I sat at a red light behind a car with Florida plates and the oranges and blossoms made me think of the groves next to my parent's house. How long since I've been there? Christmas? It's warm there right now. The sun is shining.
But that's ok. I'll be fine right here.
I've been feeling guilty over my lack of nostalgia for home. But then, Venice isn't really home, so I should give it up. We are just fine without each other.
But I do wish I could hug my mother. Or watch my dad laugh till he turns purple and quits breathing, like he does at the dinner table when I say something he thinks is hysterical. Or watch my baby brother play football.
I miss our living room. But not my bedroom. I miss Ms. Higgs. But not my school friends.
That's not normal.
The deal is, I'm made of different stuff now. Going back to Venice is a bad dream because everyone thinks I still am who I used to be. Not that I was bad, just young and so very unsure of myself. I have a really hard time being who I want to be in that small, slow, rich town. Nothing challenges me there.
I have a true friend from Venice who moved here a couple of months ago. She sat at my kitchen table with me the other night and we ate together. It's sweet to have her in my life again, but it's also jarring that someone knows my history. I guess because as long as anyone remembers what I used to be, that version is still alive somehow.

I resent Florida. For molding me into someone who could be shattered so easily. There's nothing left of that little beach girl. Give me mountains to climb.

oh my morgan

Two respectable young ladies

plus ice cream

and a late night drive

equals?