1. Done working at Taco Time for the summer. Happiness! I liked my coworkers a lot but dealing with customers could be stressful. Note: be NICE to your fast-food workers. It's a tough job!
2. My parents and Jack dropped me off at school today. Only it wasn't a one day trip, it was a two day trip, and sharing a motel room with three adults and one 5-year-old is NOT fun. For one thing, we all went to bed really early. It started out with the three of us reading and Jack doing just about everything but lying quietly in bed. He was fussing about his blanket, complaining about the lights being on, asking to have his back rubbed, getting out of bed to get water, drinking a whole glass of water, asking how many pages I had left, asking if I would be done soon, and so on. About 8:30 Dad turned out his light and started trying to go to sleep. Mom did the same about 8:50. About 9:10 I switched to using a light wedge so we could turn out the other light because after almost an hour Jackson was still wide awake and talking. He didn't end up falling asleep until around 9:30 and I, out of sheer boredom, fell asleep about 9:50. Probably the earliest I've ever gone to bed for the night in over a year.
3. We stopped at a rest stop once. Rest stops are great. I love the ones where they have coffee and cocoa and cookies for free. Those are pretty much the best things ever. The one we went to this time didn't have food, but once a couple years ago we went to one and my mom asked me to get her a coffee from the little stand. I did so and while the lady got it for me, she informed me meaningfully that 'my husband says that drinking coffee stunts growth!' Uh.... awkward. I didn't feel like correcting the assumption that the coffee was meant for myself so I left without correcting her. I do drink coffee quite a bit now, but I'm done growing, so I'm probably safe now I should think. Unless coffee causes shrinking... now that I do not want to hear!
4. Classes start Wednesday! I'm excited to get some routine back in my life. Summer was great but very routine-less. I'm sure I'll be sitting in class dying sipping some coffee to keep awake in a few weeks and wishing I could go back to the good old 9-hours-of-sleep that I got routinely for the past three and a half months, but for now I'm almost looking forward to the homework and practicing.
5. Orchestra and lessons start next week! I love this part, so of course I can't wait. However I'm also a little nervous about doing a lot of playing because I've had pain in my arms, wrists, and hands for a few months now and taking this summer mostly off hasn't seemed to help substantially. So, if you could keep that in your prayers, I would greatly appreciate it! I know that God knows what he's doing in this situation, so I'm just trying to stay calm about it and not let worry cloud up this lovely semester. I don't have that many semesters left of college-- I'm one fourth finished already-- and I want to enjoy every bit that I can!
6. Six? That's it? Okay, so this idea of '7 Quick Takes' was taken from a couple other blogs I read, all written by Catholic homeschooling moms. Some of you are looking kind of confused now, wondering why I, a Presbyterian teenager, would find these blogs interesting, but hey, I helped raise my siblings and I'm kind of used to it. I like reading homeschooling stuff. I would spend hours as a 9th grader poring over the list and descriptions of classes offered at our homeschooling co-op, deciding what classes I would want my kids to eventually take. I'm also the kid who started a notebook of random things I wanted to remember as a mom. A couple items in that notebook were 'Zout is great for removing stains' and a list of chores appropriate for each age level. I also regularly devoured a homeschooling magazine that my mom got for several years. And when the teacher at co-op in 9th grade asked for a paper on a personal interest, yes, I chose homeschooling as my topic. I'm a little strange that way. So shoot me. But before you do that check out this: http://www.topmastersineducation.com/homeschooled/ I was too lazy to figure out how to make this an actual link, but copying and pasting is always an option. Maybe it'll help you understand. Maybe not... but regardless, it's kinda cool. And since I'm no longer 13 I don't think being fascinated with homeschooling is necessarily so odd anymore.
7. Friends and family are really the best. I was able to go to my home church this past Sunday for the first time in five or six weeks and was blessed to have several people greet me, hug me, and otherwise show that they cared I was there and were happy to see me. When I got to school today several of my friends showed great warmth in greeting me and I discovered a little gift from my mom in one of the boxes I unpacked. I mean, is feeling loved not the greatest feeling in the world to have? It makes me want to be careful this year. Now that I have friends at school, I'm afraid I'll just retreat into myself around others completely because I won't feel the need to make new friends. I guess I'll have to make sure I push myself out of my comfort zone when it comes to interacting with new people. Most of you know me fairly well, right? You know that I'm quiet and tend to keep to myself. My trainer at work would give me a hard time about that. When he said goodbye to me he said that I was 'the politest and quietest person' he'd ever met. That made me laugh but it's true that I'm quiet and reserved! I don't think there's any need for me to seek to actively change my personality but being friendly is something I can definitely work on!
Hoping your Labor Day was a good one!
Monday, September 2, 2013
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Flashback to the Past, duh duh duh DUH....
Perfectionism is something I've had on my mind a lot lately.
At school, I thought about it because I play violin; and this summer I am thinking about it because I have a job.
About 18 months ago, I had a "God moment." You know those moments? When you have a break-through and it seems like God is speaking right to you. And it's so cool and you almost get goosebumps and you know everything will be okay.
18 months ago (or 19... you do the math-- no, definitely 19) was the December of my senior year of high school, and it was at a rather stressful point in my life. So much happened that year-- at the time, I had a concert in nine days in which I was soloing with an orchestra, auditions at colleges in several weeks, and my senior violin recital in exactly six months. I took out that stress in crying. (As my violin recital came up, I almost cried at every violin lesson for about a month beforehand, for absolutely no reason at all (cuz my teacher is AWESOME) except for the stress.) I really don't cry that much, but senior year was the exception. So it was December 1st, 2011, it was a Wednesday evening, I had just had a busy day and gotten home, and as I sat down after putting away the homework or whatever I was doing, I felt suddenly overwhelmed with frustration and sadness and self-criticism. I was mad at myself. I didn't feel good enough at anything-- I couldn't play the violin well enough, and then somehow my dissatisfaction with my violinistic capabilities took over everything else and I wasn't a good enough daughter, sister, or friend. I just felt dissatisfied with myself as a human being. So I sat on my bed and had a good cry.
I am a perfectionist in some regards, as you may have noticed.
Perfectionism is almost required to be a good violinist, because you have to train yourself to be your own harshest critic in order to push yourself to play the best you can. That's all well and good except you feel lousy when you don't meet your standards, which is, for me anyway, most of the time.
But perfectionism regarding... yourself? Your life?
Anyways, I finished my cry and opened up my devotional, "My Utmost for His Highest" by Oswald Chambers. I flipped to the page for December 1st and read this:
The way we continually talk about our own inability is an insult to the Creator. The deploring of our own incompetence is a slander against God for having overlooked us.
That jolted me a bit. Okay, God, I thought. I get it. Yeah, I guess that's true.
Feeling a bit startled but not immensely comforted I opened my Bible. That quote was blunt and to the point and I was reeling a bit from the realization that I had just been insulting and slandering the Lord of the Universe.
I don't just open my Bible and read at random; I usually work my way through a book or a passage, taking several days. For some reason I chose 1st Corinthians and started reading at the beginning. I came to verses 7-9:
Therefore you do not lack any spiritual gift as you eagerly wait for our Lord Jesus Christ to be revealed. He will keep you strong to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God, who has called you into fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, is faithful.
You do not lack.
Strong to the end.
You will be blameless.
God... is faithful.
Wow.
That was a God-moment.
I can't help being a perfectionist to some extent. And in some measure I think perfectionism is useful-- it's good to have high standards for yourself, right?
But my worth is not dependent on how well I play in string lab. My worth is not dependent on how well I ring up tacos and burritos. My worth is not dependent on if I was in a sweet or sour mood this morning.
It's really not.
My worth is based on who I am, not what I am doing.
A daughter of the King.
At school, I thought about it because I play violin; and this summer I am thinking about it because I have a job.
About 18 months ago, I had a "God moment." You know those moments? When you have a break-through and it seems like God is speaking right to you. And it's so cool and you almost get goosebumps and you know everything will be okay.
18 months ago (or 19... you do the math-- no, definitely 19) was the December of my senior year of high school, and it was at a rather stressful point in my life. So much happened that year-- at the time, I had a concert in nine days in which I was soloing with an orchestra, auditions at colleges in several weeks, and my senior violin recital in exactly six months. I took out that stress in crying. (As my violin recital came up, I almost cried at every violin lesson for about a month beforehand, for absolutely no reason at all (cuz my teacher is AWESOME) except for the stress.) I really don't cry that much, but senior year was the exception. So it was December 1st, 2011, it was a Wednesday evening, I had just had a busy day and gotten home, and as I sat down after putting away the homework or whatever I was doing, I felt suddenly overwhelmed with frustration and sadness and self-criticism. I was mad at myself. I didn't feel good enough at anything-- I couldn't play the violin well enough, and then somehow my dissatisfaction with my violinistic capabilities took over everything else and I wasn't a good enough daughter, sister, or friend. I just felt dissatisfied with myself as a human being. So I sat on my bed and had a good cry.
I am a perfectionist in some regards, as you may have noticed.
Perfectionism is almost required to be a good violinist, because you have to train yourself to be your own harshest critic in order to push yourself to play the best you can. That's all well and good except you feel lousy when you don't meet your standards, which is, for me anyway, most of the time.
But perfectionism regarding... yourself? Your life?
Anyways, I finished my cry and opened up my devotional, "My Utmost for His Highest" by Oswald Chambers. I flipped to the page for December 1st and read this:
The way we continually talk about our own inability is an insult to the Creator. The deploring of our own incompetence is a slander against God for having overlooked us.
That jolted me a bit. Okay, God, I thought. I get it. Yeah, I guess that's true.
Feeling a bit startled but not immensely comforted I opened my Bible. That quote was blunt and to the point and I was reeling a bit from the realization that I had just been insulting and slandering the Lord of the Universe.
I don't just open my Bible and read at random; I usually work my way through a book or a passage, taking several days. For some reason I chose 1st Corinthians and started reading at the beginning. I came to verses 7-9:
Therefore you do not lack any spiritual gift as you eagerly wait for our Lord Jesus Christ to be revealed. He will keep you strong to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God, who has called you into fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, is faithful.
You do not lack.
Strong to the end.
You will be blameless.
God... is faithful.
Wow.
That was a God-moment.
I can't help being a perfectionist to some extent. And in some measure I think perfectionism is useful-- it's good to have high standards for yourself, right?
But my worth is not dependent on how well I play in string lab. My worth is not dependent on how well I ring up tacos and burritos. My worth is not dependent on if I was in a sweet or sour mood this morning.
It's really not.
My worth is based on who I am, not what I am doing.
A daughter of the King.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Update on Life
People ask me how my first year of college went. Lots of people ask. My family. My friends. People from church whom I know slightly but not well. It's like senior year of high school, only not quite as bad. Many of you remember that. All year long well meaning people ask, "So, what are your plans? Are you working? Are you going to school? Where are you going to school? What are you going to study?" And you can't be provoked because you do the exact same thing to all your friends and anyway, it's nice that people care about your life and want to take the time to talk to you. But all the same, it becomes exhausting answering the same question all the time. That was how senior year of high school was for me. And now that I'm back from college for the summer, the questions begin again, this time people wanting to know how the first year of school was. And again, you appreciate the questions because they care about you and again, you're doing the same thing to all your friends but it does grow monotonous after awhile.
Point made.
Anyway, my first year of school was amazing. I think it has been the best year of my life so far. Don't get me wrong, because I've had a great life anyway. I have a great family and I loved being home-schooled and I loved playing violin and orchestra and had a great church, but college is a completely different story and I love how everything is different. I love living in a dorm where I'm somewhat independent but still feel safe and cared for by the RAs and RD and all the adults who work so hard to make sure that you aren't dying or anything. (When you read as many murder mysteries or watch as many episodes of Monk as I have you start appreciating having lots of people close by in case you ever are in an emergency.) I love moving around from building to building all day and not being in my room all the time. I love seeing my friends everyday. I love classes and my profs. I love late nights in the Music Building, sitting in the empty hallway outside the practice rooms and talking to one or more of my friends. Often those conversations end up with me laughing so hard at something not very funny that I can't breathe for a couple minutes. Awkward. But still great.
Yes, college life is pretty great and I'm looking forward to going back in several weeks.
With all that said, there are definitely benefits to being home again. I'm able to sleep in. Oh blissful day. You know what one of the worst feelings in the world is? It's that moment when your cell phone alarm goes off at 6:15 in the morning (or 6:30, 6:46, 7:00, 7:15, or 7:30, depending on the day) and you are wrenched from your blissful oblivion and the room is chilly and dark and your bed is so warm and you're still so tired and you can't think of anything happening that day that seems worth the effort of getting out of that bed. But because you're a responsible individual you know you need to get up so you stagger down off of your bunk bed and grab your bathrobe in the dark room and head out to the shower, bleary-eyed and unable to say anything friendly to anyone who happens to be in the bathroom. Usually I can manage to say something coherent if it's someone I know but I'm never able to smile. Or because you're a not-so-responsible individual and you don't have a class to get up for, just a practicing date with your violin, you turn that alarm off and feel the depression of getting up hit you and close your eyes for another 45 minutes and then feel like a slug when you do get up for not being productive.
I swear early-morning-can't-get-out-of-bed-depression is the worst feeling in the world.
So, off of that tangent, I do love being able to sleep in. I also love hanging out with my family, especially my mom, and cuddling with my little bro and having long skype dates with my bestie. And it's great to earn some money.
Ah yes, money.
So I have a job. It's at Taco Time. I love it and hate it. It's not a bad job. My coworkers and managers are nice. Most of the customers, or 'guests' as we often call them, are nice too. The bad part about it is that in a 5 or 8 hour shift there are so many opportunities to make mistakes. And being the perfectionist I am, making mistakes depresses me.
Perfectionism is a good topic for another time, however.
So, there's a long update on my first year at school and my summer, all wrapped up in one. And maybe I'll share some of my favorite pictures or something next time, but I probably won't because they are all on Facebook for you to see anyway.
Point made.
Anyway, my first year of school was amazing. I think it has been the best year of my life so far. Don't get me wrong, because I've had a great life anyway. I have a great family and I loved being home-schooled and I loved playing violin and orchestra and had a great church, but college is a completely different story and I love how everything is different. I love living in a dorm where I'm somewhat independent but still feel safe and cared for by the RAs and RD and all the adults who work so hard to make sure that you aren't dying or anything. (When you read as many murder mysteries or watch as many episodes of Monk as I have you start appreciating having lots of people close by in case you ever are in an emergency.) I love moving around from building to building all day and not being in my room all the time. I love seeing my friends everyday. I love classes and my profs. I love late nights in the Music Building, sitting in the empty hallway outside the practice rooms and talking to one or more of my friends. Often those conversations end up with me laughing so hard at something not very funny that I can't breathe for a couple minutes. Awkward. But still great.
Yes, college life is pretty great and I'm looking forward to going back in several weeks.
With all that said, there are definitely benefits to being home again. I'm able to sleep in. Oh blissful day. You know what one of the worst feelings in the world is? It's that moment when your cell phone alarm goes off at 6:15 in the morning (or 6:30, 6:46, 7:00, 7:15, or 7:30, depending on the day) and you are wrenched from your blissful oblivion and the room is chilly and dark and your bed is so warm and you're still so tired and you can't think of anything happening that day that seems worth the effort of getting out of that bed. But because you're a responsible individual you know you need to get up so you stagger down off of your bunk bed and grab your bathrobe in the dark room and head out to the shower, bleary-eyed and unable to say anything friendly to anyone who happens to be in the bathroom. Usually I can manage to say something coherent if it's someone I know but I'm never able to smile. Or because you're a not-so-responsible individual and you don't have a class to get up for, just a practicing date with your violin, you turn that alarm off and feel the depression of getting up hit you and close your eyes for another 45 minutes and then feel like a slug when you do get up for not being productive.
I swear early-morning-can't-get-out-of-bed-depression is the worst feeling in the world.
So, off of that tangent, I do love being able to sleep in. I also love hanging out with my family, especially my mom, and cuddling with my little bro and having long skype dates with my bestie. And it's great to earn some money.
Ah yes, money.
So I have a job. It's at Taco Time. I love it and hate it. It's not a bad job. My coworkers and managers are nice. Most of the customers, or 'guests' as we often call them, are nice too. The bad part about it is that in a 5 or 8 hour shift there are so many opportunities to make mistakes. And being the perfectionist I am, making mistakes depresses me.
Perfectionism is a good topic for another time, however.
So, there's a long update on my first year at school and my summer, all wrapped up in one. And maybe I'll share some of my favorite pictures or something next time, but I probably won't because they are all on Facebook for you to see anyway.
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