Esprit de l'escalier

http://www.thebricktestament.com/

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Does anyone want to come home with me? Even for a few days? I’m 22 and my parents still don’t like the idea of me driving home alone. But I really don’t want to pay for a plane ticket either (because by now, getting one this late in the game would cost me big-time).

Think about it…seriously. Beautiful San Francisco during spring break. You know all the beautiful people are going to be there (because, really, where else do beautiful people go?).

Com’on, all the cool kids are doing it.

Call me.

No. Really – I’m pretty sure I’m going to die (academically) this time.

So hungry…I should probably eat. I can’t think straight.

I don’t want to graduate. I’m scared.

There’s still so much to do.

Before tomorrow.

I’m scared.

bye.

Well, that little visit was very weird, but somehow…very insightful. Especially last night and this morning. It’s odd to me how people hold things inside for years at a time. And it’s amazing how God uses us to speak to one another in times of desperate need. I never ever thought that I could be used in such a way. Amazing, simply ‘maraveoso.’

Yo necessito practicar espaniol mas porque mi hablan muy mal. (ja ja)<--that's my spanish laugh)

I really really really need to study spanish again. I’d forgotten how extremely practical it is. Every other guest that came tonight could speak at least two languages. Could I? Nope. (well, a little…but that’s just from going to public school and mission trips.)
It’s sooooo weird to have Israel here. I can’t believe this! He remembers almost everything from five years ago. And so does his mom! Even she remembers me. She sent a gift with Israel for me. How sweet!
He brought pictures from the mission trip (well, the ones that I’m in) and oh my goodness – those took me back. I didn’t even realize he’d taken those pictures. Weird.
He’s grown up so much from five years ago – but he doesn’t seem to have changed a bit. He still seems like the same pastor-who-is-really-close-to-my-age Israel that he was when I briefly met him a long time ago.
He prayed for me today in spanish. I understood a little bit of it and I almost felt like crying. He knew what I needed prayer for.
I feel so bad that I can’t spend more time with him. He is staying for two extra days after his classes. I can’t even meet up with him until after 4 pm tomorrow. What is the poor guy going to do for an entire day? Hopefully I’ll be able to make it up to him on Sunday after church. Anyone want to join us for a day of shameless tourism? Give me a call. I’m serious.
Lord be with us this weekend. And more importantly – be with us during finals. Amen.

Israel comes over tomorrow! Ohmygosh, what in the world do you say to someone you haven’t seen in 5 years who suddenly shows back up in your life and comes all the way from Mexico to visit. Wow. (Well, he didn’t just come to visit me, he had some courses he was taking here for work.)
So we’re having a bunch of people over for dinner tomorrow night. Miranda is cooking homemade lasagna. I can’t wait, it’s going to be sooo good. We’re having the whole International Theme House join us. I love it! I feel so ethnic, ha-ha! Marvelous.
I have so much to get done before the weekend. Ahhhh! Saturday and Sunday are going to be insane!
Saturday Israel, Miranda and I are doing touristy stuff after I get off of work and finish with a C.S. Lewis study group. I can’t miss either of those, which is a bummer because it means we can’t hit downtown until around 4pm. Oh well, better late than never.

“Let me sing you a waltz, 

Out of my head, out of my thoughts…”

     Tonight was more proof that my taste in films is very much a unique-to-me thing. Perhaps I should stick to sharing only action movies. The kind you can talk through and never miss anything going on in the plot. ha-ha.

     Wow, what an interesting day.

     I chickened out in some opportunities today – but I was overly bold in others. I will confess the part I chickened out in. My presentation this morning was about what character I identified most with out of all the Lewis and MacDonald stories we’ve read this quarter. I chose Anodos from MacDonald’s “Phantastes.” As part of my presentation, I was going to read this poem I wrote. But I didn’t. Instead I babbled and shook like the temperature in the room was bellow zero. Anyhow, to make up for it…I’ll share now, the poem I was too afraid to share this morning.

Red w/ Rhythm

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Check it out: http://www.time.com/time/photoessays/women/

Hooray women, you are beautiful. Don’t ever forget that.

“We all know that art is not truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize truth, at least the truth that is given us to understand. The artist must know the manner whereby to convince others of the truthfulness of his lies.”

-Pablo Picasso

That was an insightful thought into the meaning of art – this is just a beautiful piece of fiction; from a story about a woman named Aileen, talking to her therapist, trying to get over the loss of her beloved cat, Bert.

“He had limited notes to communicate his needs,” she said. “He had his ‘food’ mew, and I’d follow him to his dish. He had his ‘out’ mew, and I’d follow him to the door. He had his ‘brush’ mew, and I’d go with him to the cupboard where his brush was kept. And then he had his existential mew, where I’d follow him vaguely around the house as he wandered in and out of rooms, not knowing exactly what or why,” (119).

-snippet from Lorrie Moore’s short story “Four Calling Birds, Three French Hens.”