Wednesday, May 12, 2010

A momentous day

I met Justin on August 23rd, 2007. Justin disagrees with me. He says that we actually met in July a few weeks earlier at the Allen County Fair. The sad truth, however, is that I don't remember meeting him at all. I remember being at the fair that day. I was with a group of friends. He says that he was there with his family. He tells me our friend Cody introduced us. He says that he thought that I was dating one of the boys in the group. (This isn't terribly surprising to hear. I knew that one of the boys liked me. And that he had a girlfriend. And that he would be perfectly willing to cheat on her. With me. Believe me once I found out that last part I told him to get lost. But I didn't know that yet. All I knew was that Cody was standing around talking to some person for forever and that I was getting antsy.)

That, Justin says, is the first time we met. I believe him. Because, to be honest, I have a terrible memory. And he's always right about these types of things. Except for the rare once a year occasion where I'm actually right about something. But seriously, saying that he's wrong once a year? That's an exaggeration. It's probably more like once a decade. Except I haven't known him for a decade. I haven't even known him for three years yet. I've known him just long enough to be sure of the fact that he's hardly ever wrong. And that's a fact. Sadly though, this story of mine must start in August of 2007 because that's where I remember things from.

Anyway, August 23rd, 2007. It was the start of a new semester of school. I was only taking on class this semester and it was choir. I had had an internship over the summer in my field of interest and had left it badly disillusioned. I promptly dropped out of all my classes and swore off school until I could decide on a new degree. Except that I couldn't bear the idea of quitting choir. Choir that I loved passionately. Never mind that I don't have a good enough voice to ever be a professional musician. Choir was my passion. Standing in a crowd, surrounded my sopranos, singing four, five or at times up to eight part harmony. Realizing I couldn't stand the idea of not attempting to hit high notes multiple times a week I quickly reenrolled.

As for August 23rd, however, I was doing nothing. I wasn't working that day nor did I have any classes. So I did what any normal 20 year old girl would do. I got dressed and hung out at school all afternoon with my friends. One of the christian groups, InterVarsity on campus was having a party in the science mall and some of my friends were helping. Little did I know that this christian group would soon sucker me in and absorb my life. They had gotten some of those blow up games and set them up. One of them was a game where two people stood on platforms, hit each other with padded sticks, and tried to knock each other off. It was on this game that I first saw Justin.

He was fighting the staff worker for IV, Nick Johnson. I don't remember who won. I think it was probably Justin because, well, it's Justin. The festivities continued throughout the afternoon and there was a meeting in the evening that I attended as a matter of course. We had an icecream eating contest among other things. When the meeting was over everyone went out to eat. Except me. There was leftover icecream and I was bound and determined to get that stuff into my freezer. Luckily, I succeeded.

That my friends, was when I met Justin. I don't think I spoke a single word to him the entire day. But you better believe that I remembered him. That time.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Gratitude. Or the lack thereof.

So Monday morning, I cleaned the fish bowl. Shouldn't have been a big deal. Shouldn't being the keyword here. It was a big deal. To start off with there is the fish. Now I know not all fish are the same but mine takes the cake. He is the most hormonal, moody fish I've ever met. If anything I'd swear he's going through puberty. Except I think he already did that. Sometime about ten minutes after he hatched. But I might be mistaken. 

First, I couldn't get him out of the bowl. He was bound and determined to stay right there. He was happy where he was, nasty disgusting water and all, thank you very much! I eventually got him out of the bowl and into his VERY temporary home. He hated it. He moped. He wined. He floated in my bright orange mixing bowl and refused to move. I talked to him. I tried to feed him. All the while scrubbing the five months of accumulated fish poo out of his bowl. And off his rocks. And off his plants. 

Finally I had his bowl all sparkling and clean. I picked up my little green net and prepared to scoop the poor wretched little fish out of the orange monstrosity and put him back in his own happy little home. But what does the little bugger do? The instant my net hits the water he jumps. I don't mean jumps a little. Or jumps to the side. Or to avoid the net. Well, he successfully managed that. But he jumped out of the bowl. And onto the counter. 

When I try to scoop him off the counter? He flops away again. As if he was content to stay on the counter. My second try, I get him up and into his fresh clean bowl. And then the ungrateful wretch just slowly sank to the bottom and sat there. Like the lump that he is. No happy swimming. To appreciation for all my hard work. He just sat there hiding behind his plants. Twenty minutes later and after much bribing coaxing on my part he finally came out. 

He's been swimming peacefully enough this afternoon, although he hasn't quite forgiven me for the trauma I inflicted on him. No worries though! He'll come crying to his mama soon enough. I just better make sure I keep my little green net well out of sight!

Ah... Relaxation

This past Wednesday at 10am, I set down my pen and breathed a huge sigh of relief. I had done it! I had successfully completed all of my finals. I went home. I sat down on the couch with my book. I sat around in my pajamas all day. I went to the mall. I slept the morning away. It was wonderful. It was glorious. It was boring.

It's true. I got bored. What does this say about me if I can't enjoy three days of laziness? The fact of the matter though is I hate to sit around and do nothing. So what do I do on a bright, sunny, crisp morning? I clean my house. Frankly by last week I had begun cleaning things. Last week was just the beginning though. This week, this week is the real deal. I stuck my toes in to test the water and it was fine.

So far today I have;
1. Scrubbed out the fish bowl (more on that in a later post).

2. Scrubbed out the oven (okay it's not totally clean yet. I don't have any oven cleaner on hand and boy, do I need it! I honestly have no idea the last time the oven was cleaned. I've lived here for two years. And I've never cleaned it. And yes it was dirty when I moved in.).

3. Scrubbed the paint off my toenails and applied new (man, have I been doing a lot of scrubbing today!).

4. Read one chapter in a fascinating but incredibly heavy book entitled Red Families v. Blue Families by Naomi Cahn and June Carbone (I'm quite enthralled so far. I'm interested to see what conclusions they reach).

5. The dishes three times (breakfast dishes, my lunch dishes, and all the the bowls I used while clean up after the fish).

6. Four loads of laundry (a never ending chore to be sure but I made a dent).

7. Connected my computer to my printer... again (I have so many fun recipes to print!)

8. Sat down and began this post.

It's been a productive day so far and the best thing about it? I've loved every minute of it. I love cleaning and organizing. I love turning up my music and seeing how much I can get down and how quickly. I love being busy and having my hands and mind occupied.

On the bright side, summer classes start on Monday and then I'll have more than enough to keep myself occupied!