Goodbye.

Dear 2010,

Hey old friend. There's so much I could say about you. You were the second semester of my sophomore year, when I grew and developed in Christ as never before. I went to the prayer tent for the first time while you were around, and AMI, too. I was a Mini-O's referee with you, and I got to be in Kevin's family group for the SECOND YEAR IN A ROW with you. That was one of my biggest 2010 triumphs. Actually, let's make a list of my top three 2010 triumphs.

MY TOP THREE 2010 TRIUMPHS

1. Growth in Christ.

2. Jon and Cami's GLORIOUS UNION.

3. Being in Kevin's family group AGAIN.

There is some bad news, though, buddy. With you, I had the most stressful semester I have ever had to suffer through. Now, don't worry, I'm not blaming it on you. We got through it and it's over now. But it's because of this last semester that I'm all too ready to say goodbye to you. We had fun while it lasted, and I want you to know that I learned a lot from you even during those difficult times. I think it's time for a highlight reel. And when I say reel, know that I just mean another list, with lots of colors and things.

THE 2010 HIGHLIGHT REEL-LIST (Blue for SUPERGLUE!!!)

1. The Class of 2010. I was and still am madly in love with almost all of you. Just so you know, when I really like people it is impossible for them to escape my feelings, so...we're in this forever.

2. Class of 2013. I didn't start talking to you guys much until 2010, and even though things were and are still rocky sometimes, I really value each friendship I've made.

3. WELCOMING. I love welcoming. I will do it every SINGLE year. It is one of my favorite things.

4. College House Alumni Ambassadors. Dude, we had some mad good times, even though for some reason I was always busy with non-CHAA stuff. For the life of me, I cannot remember what it was. Oh hey, it may have been GCC. Hahahaha, oh my. Anyway, remember that time we met all of these super awesome old people who were related to half of the people we knew in real life and were really great at having conversations and also knew GRACE KELLY PRE-PRINCESS OF MONACO? Oh my gosh.

5. The PRAYER TENT. Listen...I love you. I was so devastated when you didn't show up this semester. I hope to see you again in 2011, you awesome thing, you.

6. AMI. Wow. You helped grow me so much in so many ways. I made friends with some people and strengthened friendships with other people, but most importantly I grew so much in my relationship with God. This was great, but made even more so by the fact that I had to go back home afterwards. I needed that booster.

7. Moving in early. This seriously has to happen every year. There is nothing better than sitting around with friends with no classes to show up to. Every.single.year.

8. SUPERGLUE. Oh, hi there, love of my life. I don't think I need to say much here, since I say it everywhere else. We are forever.

9. Gregory, muahahahahaha. I honestly believe that we are some of the most awesome people alive. People scoff at us because they don't know where we are and because Gregory looks like a prison, but you know what? If people don't know where we are then they obviously aren't cool enough to have been given a reason to come to us. Also, if Gregory is a prison, it is friggin' Azkaban, because it's full of B.A. witches and wizards.

10. The special speakers at GCC. So cool.

There isn't much more I can say besides goodbye. I'll do what it takes to improve on the 2010 Tavi, and you...will go down in history.

Random Thought At Weird Time In Odd Place.

Going to church doesn't make me a Christian any more than wearing a #23 Bulls jersey made Michael Jordan Michael.Jordan. Being a Christian and being a mind-melting basketball player weren't things that just happened. They were things that we grew into and became. I have to work every day to keep my relationship with Christ strong, and MJ had to work every day to keep his skills from fading. Going to church or wearing the jersey doesn't make us what we are, it just tells you who we are.

Selfishness Christmas List-Amended At Will

1) I want to spend money without getting poorer.

2) I want to eat delicious things without getting fatter.

3) I want to hang out over studying without getting dumber.

4) I want someone who adores me enough to take me to all of those places I can't afford. Basically >Applebee's, hahaha.

5) I want to go see Mary Poppins on Broadway, and I want parquet seats. I also want her umbrella so that I can fly away whenever I want to.

6) I want a family with one of each parent and siblings that obey and get along without destroying everything in their paths.

7) I want to be completely irresponsible.

In Which You See The Ugliness Within

I feel like my attitudes have been pretty bad recently. Between classes, RDP, and GCC, I have no idea what’s happening to my life half the time. I don’t know what my grades are going to look like at the end of this semester, but conservative estimates all read “extraordinarily mediocre.” I don’t know if I’m going to keep trying to double major, which means I don’t know what I’m actually going to major in and I have no idea what to tell my mother if what I wind up with isn’t totally legit. Not to diss anyone, but if I come home with a major in Comparative Literature, my mother will die. Also, I like books, but I don’t think I’m too huge a fan of literature, so that’s not a real plan anyway. I’m stressed because if my GPA some drops below a 3.0, I might not be able to do study abroad stuff. I basically have no wiggle room, and I’m worried and scared. Everyone else I know and live with is doing fine in their respective places, and yet I’m struggling to do basic things. I think I’m just going to take five classes next semester. Heck, maybe I’ll just take four and grant myself a recovery period from all of this horror. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed at the state of things (I’m not flunking or anything, but the state of things by Penn standards) and I just want to sit down and cry for a minute. My heart feels all knotted.

RDP’s gallery got finished up, but between the actual opening of the gallery and all of the marketing type stuff, my attitude toward that grew worse as well. I woke up early on two separate days to go pick up poles because no one else was available-fine, whatever. I taped and posted the building signs by myself, but that’s my own deal because I just didn’t feel like waiting for the other two members of the marketing team to free up when I could just as easily do it alone, albeit with a lot of internal griping. It was all of the remaining stuff that’s irritated me. I keep forgetting to pick up the signs, which means that they are most likely totally destroyed by now, because they will have been removed and thrown away. They won’t be happy about that. I won’t really know what to tell them other than I’m human and I’m not the only human on the marketing team. We also got our poles taken down for us, because one member of the team responded that she would take care of it and then didn’t. Every time I think about RDP stuff, I just feel weary, even though I love the group itself. It’s interesting, it’s fun, and I’ve met some very nice people. Maybe I’m just not responsible enough to handle being in an actual position. That’s on me, too. But even though I recognize that everything is basically my fault, I can’t stop feeling like I want to blame everyone else. Maybe that’s just a human thing, too. *sigh*.

When it comes to GCC, I think I’ve made it pretty clear to almost anyone in my life that GCC and, within GCC, family group, are my favorite things. I’ve grown so much at GCC and continue to grow, and Lord knows I spend the majority of my time doing things with and for GCC and that I’m thrilled to do it. But my attitude is, again, super horrible, because so many times recently I feel so bitter toward certain people, even though I know I have nothing to feel proud in and therefore nothing about me warrants pat-on-the-back type behavior or anything. Nonetheless, I sometimes just struggle to do things for the sake of doing them for God’s glory, and not for the sake of being appreciated by anyone or loved any more by anyone. I think a large part of me loves family group for the people, which is fine sometimes but I think in my case is turning out to be a bad thing, because I’m so worried all the time about whether or not they like me. Unfortunately, one of my least favorite feelings is that of liking someone more than they like me. It’s happening with all three of my family group leaders. I think Jenn likes me more now, so that’s gratifying, but I’m always wondering how I can make her like me more. I adore Little Boots and I’m inclined to believe that the feelings are almost mutual. As long as I continue to profess my fondness for Joseph Gordon-Levitt we should be okay on a superficial level. Kevin’s been my family group leader for a year and a half now, but lightning strike me if don’t constantly worry that I’m just a pain in the neck. Everyone knows that Kevin’s one of my favorite people. I’m working on scaling that back, because the more important I make people, the more I want to be important, too, but you can’t demand the same things from everybody you demand from yourself. With the other actual members of Superglue I’m far more secure. I adore Jihae. I’m so glad that we’re in Superglue together and that we’re friends now. I also have the lovely Petal, who’s so awesomely affectionate that I don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about being loved by her. For everyone else, we’re all at pretty level ground. We don’t know each other very well, so our feelings about each other are pretty much equal. As far as Cruz and Benjie are concerned, I know them from outside of GCC and I’m secure in the aspects of our friendship that don’t concern God, but the rest is all stuff I’ll need to make a conscious effort to develop.

This whole post has no coherence and no underlying theme. It’s just a general mash-up of everything I’ve been feeling recently that I needed an outlet for. I’m such a needy, desperate person. From school, I need these grades and from RDP I need breathing room and from GCC and the people in it I’m desperate for love. And in all of this crap that I can feel suffocating me from time to time, I have the little pocket of oxygen that is Jesus Christ. How sad is it that He’s just the little pocket? I just need more air and I don’t know how to get it. It’s not like I’m not trying. I am trying, but nothing is good enough. I try really hard in classes and I can’t break past a particular grade barrier. I try to do my best in RDP but I just can’t prioritize it over school and GCC. I try to so hard to make the people at GCC love me but I’m so needy that it never feels like enough. And then I try to make my oxygen pockets of Christ larger, but it’s like I fail all the time. Sometimes I try to envision my future and all I can see is sadness and loneliness, albeit with a Bible in hand. If my life feels so frenetic now, what’ll become of me later? I try to have joy and happiness all of the time, but inevitably I end up back here again—insecure and sad, a hopeless little girl who barely counts as a developed human being. To top it all off, it’s Thanksgiving. I didn’t even think to write first about things I’m thankful for. *sigh*

Show me a way out.

Thanks for this.

All of a sudden, this happens. It doesn't really have anything to do with me, apart from the responsibility I have as your sister in Christ to attempt to help you with this. I'm not supposed to know. How can I bring this up? Should I? If I do this and you get angry, you'll tell them, they'll tell her, she'll get furious. I'll be on my own. My mom will ask questions. It'll get back to everyone else. I'll alienate family members on both sides of the division. All in the name of helping you when you don't want help. Why am I agonizing over this? Because He put me in this position. Am I being tested? This sucks. I'll be losing so much if this goes horribly. I need faith. I need to focus on the intangible. I'm supposed to leave everything behind for His sake, right? But this still sucks. Why did He pick me for this? I was just starting to be happy with everything. I was feeling peace. Why did He give it to me just to take it away? I can't ask anyone about this, not really. And by asking one person, I feel like I had to give up so much of myself. Now, because of what I've shared, they know more about me than I intended to share for a good long while. Honestly, couldn't you struggle with something else? Couldn't you be someone else? Couldn't I just take the "not my problem" approach to this without feeling like a horrible representative of Christ? I'll be praying.

Show me a way out.

He's Up To Something

This is from a while ago, but I still wanted to write about it.

I skipped class. Whoops, sorry! Okay, not that sorry. It was History of Chinese Civilization, and I had all of this other stuff to do, and I was more productive during that time than I would have been in class, that's for sure. Solitaire, I'm looking at you. So, yeah, my regret is limited. Before I went back to Gregory to revel in academia, I ate lunch in Houston with some friends from my hall that I ran into. At first everything was pretty standard for a conversation with Gregory people. Weird, oddly pointless despite the intellectual footholds people were using for arguments--no big deal. But all of a sudden, my friend K. was like, "I just realized now how much life really sucks." And one of our other friends was like, "Well, yeah." But this wasn't just a moment where someone gets annoyed because they didn't get something that they wanted, or because they just missed out on something, or whatever. This chick was straight up having a mini existential crisis right next to me. "Life sucks, and it never gets any better." I..just sat there. I had a bunch of different thoughts going through my head, but I didn't know how to attempt comforting this friend without sounding preachy. I know why I'm here, maybe not specifically, but I know Someone who has a plan for me. How am I supposed to share this with my friends in a way that won't make them want to run away from me? The more I think about it, the more I start to wonder if I should have just told her anyway. Everyone in Gregory that knows me knows that I'm a Christian, so it's not like it'd be this out-of-the-box thing for me to say. I think that if it had just been the two of us, I would have, but it wasn't just the two of us, so I guess I'll never know. Anyway, I'm kind of worried about this friend. I've heard of a few people this year who have had to just leave because they can't handle the pressure of Penn anymore, and all of them have been sophomores. I don't want her to have to do that; I mean, if she needs to, then by all means. But I really want to try to help her, you know? So, if you read this, give me some advice, please? ^^ Thanks.

I Love You.

Recently, certain things have prompted me to really examine my personality. These things include people commenting on how outgoing I am or on how many friends I have or how happy I am, but nothing forced me to actually think on all of these things together until Priscila informed me that I was going to be sharing my testimony for welcoming. Maybe to some of you sharing isn't such a big deal, but as I've already pointed out, sharing is not my favorite thing. When it comes to my testimony, I'm averse to sharing because it requires me to (however briefly) mention the status of my family and also dredges up bits and pieces of my past (not a k-drama melodramatic past or anything, but still. Stuff that contributed to my make-up. Foundational Octavia business.). After that bomb was dropped, I spent the rest of the week thinking about how to present my testimony. Would I sort of gloss it over with a quickie version, or would I try to be open? Again, some of you may have been super quick with that decision, but I really had to work to convince myself that being open with welcoming was a good thing and that it was going to be okay. When I started to think about my testimony I realized that everything was pretty short. Thinking back, there are a few things I didn't mention that maybe I could have (should have?). Regardless, I decided to sort of supplement the basic "and then I got saved" bit of my testimony with a way that God has actually been working in my life. This finally brings me back to what I was talking about at the beginning of this post.

Every time someone tells me how outgoing I am or comments on my friendly/outgoing/whatever personality, I mentally do a bit of a double-take. It's not like I try to be mean or anything--I do try to be nice to everyone. But people sometimes bring it up like it's...more than expected? I'm not sure exactly what I mean by that, but I'm just going to go on. I was talking to a couple of the sisters a couple weeks ago, and in response to one of the things we were talking about one of them said, " I just don't understand why with your personality this is hard for you." And I was like, what the heck? What personality? And then I felt like I needed to procure a little piece of information that hinted at what a broken mess I really am on the inside. I don't know if anyone happened to see a few of my gchat statuses last week, but the general idea was "Everyone thinks I'm that version of myself so...am I?" Because now literally everyone thinks that I'm a friendly, happy, outgoing person who loves everyone, and I wasn't quite sure if I saw myself that way. I've had problems loving people in the past. Constant rejection will do that to a person. It wasn't just direct rejection like boy stuff, though there was plenty of that. As much as I tried to deny or ignore it, my parents' assorted divorces and remarriages have effectively wreaked havoc with my psyche, along with other family related drama. I used to really struggle with loving people because I knew I couldn't guarantee that they would always love me back. Whether I did a good job of hiding it or not, I was a heartbroken child for a really long time. Despite all that, God somehow changed my life while I wasn't looking. My family situation hasn't much improved, and as previously stated on this blog there are not, nor have there ever been any boys, but regardless God made me happy. He restored my capacity to love people, and He gave it back to me stronger than it had ever been (though a certain Wharton personality quiz will argue that I'm still limited in my capacity to love and be loved--screw Wharton).

Thanks to welcoming and that crazy, domineering, loving Priscila, I was finally able to understand a bit more of the prayer I got all the way back during AMI. All of this time I've continued to believe that I'm a broken person, and probably parts of me still are. But rejection just isn't my identity, at least not anymore. God was working in ways I hadn't even realized until now (whoa, I just started crying a little), and He made His love my identity. I'm just a little overwhelmed, because I've gone all this time thinking, Oh, God's made me a little more mature, a little happier. I didn't recognize myself when I first looked at myself during my testimony soul-searching time. I didn't recognize that He completely overhauled my entire personality and turned me into someone He can use. I've gone from not being able to really like anybody to desperately wanting to love everybody, regardless of whether or not they'll ever love me back. I'm definitely not perfect at it--I'm still extraordinarily insecure as to whether or not people really care about me, and the more I care about somebody the more insecure I am. Just ask Priscila how often I remind her to pay attention to me/love me/etc. It's only half-joking. In the case of some people in my class, I have trouble trying to reach out to them because I feel like they don't like me. I'm not a perfect love machine. But wow...am I better.

I know sometimes I digressed a bit, but...whatever.

Ugh, Ew, Boys, Get Them Away From Me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As if I don't have enough to worry about, you know? I have six classes worth of work to do, I have meetings, I have commitments all the way up to HERE, and still. STILL, my roommates cannot let go of this boy thing. They just don't understand all of the different directions I'm coming from with this, and instead choose to just plug their ears and la-la-la me out of the room so that they can get back to plotting my future without my input. The worst part is, it isn't just them! There's this creepy unspoken expectation that 2013 will follow the previous class's example and explode into a dating frenzy. There are my friends from PFP who creepily remember my time limit for boy consideration. People from my church and school back home could NOT stop asking me over the summer if I had met anyone special during my first year. My family...oh gosh, let me just give them bullet points.

• Mom: "So, how is [insert name here] doing?" Me: "Ew/Taken/Gay." Basically, my mother will just be thrilled if I tell her that I've found someone likable/available/straight, let alone if I start dating him.
• Dad #1: "Hey, how are the boys down there? Are you beating them off with a stick? When can I meet your boyfriends?" Yes, he pluralizes. Listening to him is just awful, since I feel like I'm behind the curve here and should have already had multiple romantic entanglements. Whoops.
• Dad #2: "So...Tave...any guys down there that you uh, might be interested in?" Oh, Dad #2. Just so heartbreakingly expectant. Maybe one of these days, Dad #2.
• Ari: "FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, will you just start DATING already?! What the heck are you waiting for?! You're surrounded by all of these hot college guys!!! Tell them I'm almost eighteen." Omgosh, ew. I seriously fear for her after this year.
• Tydra (my aunt): "You're so Puritanical." This is basically her opinion of pretty much everything that I do(n't do).
• Grannie Rie: "Any nice boys down there?" Painfully hopeful!!! Oh, how I would be thrilled to present her with great-grandchildren, but further down the road and in wedlock.

I feel like ever since I've gotten back, the pressure has increased EXPONENTIALLY. Melanie and Ama have taken on madly stalk-tacular duties to hunt down a boy they've decided is perfect for me. Even my sister is calling me up to demand that I present her with nieces and nephews (oh heavens, she is going to be such a problem). The worst part of ALL, though, is that my own stupid organs have started to BETRAY ME. MY HEART HAS STARTED BEATING AND I AM SORELY DISPLEASED.

Let's not get excited. It is not beating for anyone in particular. It is just overcome with early (or late) spring fever. I am getting out my Tylenol. My roommates, if they read this, will probably die of joy. They'll use this as an opportunity to shove me in the direction of nameless-boy-that-is-nice-and-whatever. That isn't what I want.

Honestly, I still don't think that I'm ready for the kind of guy that I think God wants me to be with, which is what makes things harder. My Grinch sized heart has grown a size or some such crap, but there is no room for it. I cannot put it anywhere. So now I am all emotional but smart enough to realize that I'm probably still not ready, and everything is just a hodge-podge in my brain. I mean, I'm praying that maybe God will be like, "Oh, surprise!!! You're ready!" but I don't want to trick myself, you know? Because I don't think God goes, "LOL, jk." Any of those moments would have been brought on by my own willingness to deceive myself and then getting called out by God. My roommates (and really, along with my sister they are the primary offenders) are just like, "It's okay, just have a crush on somebody at least. Please, Octavia. PLEASE." They don't understand why I don't want crushes. To me, crushing on somebody is just another way to make yourself vulnerable, and if there's one thing I don't like being, it's vulnerable. I try to be vulnerable where God is concerned, but in all other areas I try to be a freaking brick house. It starts with, "Oh, Timmy is so cute and nice, perhaps I will just try to hang around him more often," and then turns into, "Oh, I saw Timmy today and he was so great I really like him," and ends with either "Oh, crap, Timmy started dating Tammy," or "Oh, crap, I kind of like Timmy but he found out, does not like me, and is now avoiding my like I am carrying malaria." I don't want that. Nobody wants that. I'm not going to open myself up to that until I've decided that I've found someone darn well worth it. Ama is also a bit of an advocate for the Date for Fun Party, but I'm most definitely not trying to do that, either. I've waited this long, so dagnabbit what I'm waiting for is going to be important. I'm not going to trivialize it.

I feel a bit weird posting about boys, but since so many people KEEP ON FREAKING ASKING, I figure this is a good way to sort of put this out there. Also, I feel like sometimes people think that because of my general enthusiasm for talking to people that I don't have many other feelings besides "I like talking and everything else," so I like using the blog to prove that I have a brain and other functioning organs .

Just a snippet stream of consciousness

tiredclassesstressedstupidughboysroommatesoutofcontrolwhatthehecksegwaydiningplanaskaboutstreamersaskaboutdoublemajoringdon'tforgetanytingcleanroomgotothegymbeprettykeeptryingdon'tEATthatomgoshcalmomdon'tstresspayforticketfixschedulelose50eitherwayDON'TPANICdon'tpressthespacebarhahahait'sactuallynottoohotinhereineedtosleepineedmoneyineedtoberichsothaticantakecareofeverybodyelseiampressurediwantapizzalunchableWITHPEPPERONIidon'twanttheonewithjustcheesegoshineedtobuythingsineedthingsthatdon'tcostmoneyineedmoneyineedtextbooksineedtobesuperangryatthisprofessorbutican'the'ssofunnyandniceandyouknowwhatitreallyistimeforsleep.

Grrarrggghhhhhuuuggghhh *weep*

I really enjoy college. Honestly, I do. I'm thrilled to the high heavens that my textbooks just came in today and I've started reading one of them and I have all of these (most likely short-lived) aspirations to be the BEST STUDENT EVER, and I want classes to start soon. That being said, I pretty much want classes to start so that I'm busy. Being busy takes my mind off of the fact that I'm feeling heinously displaced, despite starting my second year. I don't know if I can explain this properly, but I'll try. I feel like coming back to Penn for my sophomore year has been almost the same as coming for my freshman year. I feel so anxious, and I'm like, HOW WILL I MAKE FRIENDS??? And I'm so worried that I'm going to end up slouching in a corner somewhere because I'm too afraid to talk to people and that my roommates won't like me and that I'm going to be some sort of heartbroken social pariah. But everything's fine. I have nothing to stress about really, but I'm stressing about everything. For real, I was thinking earlier, maybe I should have a notebook to write notes in while I actually read, even though I'll be taking notes during class. And then I remembered that I pretty much don't have notebooks (though I think I have a couple in storage). And then my heart almost stopped and I almost wanted to cry. That isn't healthy! I don't know what's wrong. It's worst when I'm tired. When I'm up in the morning and running all over with Melanie and Ama and Victoria, everything's great. I'm like, phew, I have friends. But when I stop moving I start to get really insecure and worried about everything, and I'm like, checking my email to find out about GCC and RDP and working and classes and I remember something I was supposed to do and I feel so FREAKING HOT in this non air-conditioned place and my room is making me feel like crap because I don't know how I'm going to make everything fit and this nugget of anxiety/insanity builds up in my chest until I finally call my Mom. Because on top of everything I am also homesick, which is just lovely after all of the time I spent counting down the weeks until I was back at school. Thinking about hanging out with GCC calms me down, because I'm like, Oh, phew, God is there. But God is here, too. I just have to really believe that and talk to Him and not blame my environment for my attitudes (because I really hate it when people do that). But there you go. I'm anxious and stressed and homesick and it makes me wanna curl up somewhere and feel sorry for myself and maybe cry a little. But it's too hot to really do much curling up in Gregory. I'd have to go somewhere else. Still.

I'm Not Really That Deep

I can't keep having meaningful moments every day. Besides, with what you all know of my trust issues, do you really think I'd share everything anyway? Precisely. But I did want to give some sort of update into my life even though nothing too humongous is going on. This is:

THE WEEKLY RUNDOWN!!! (Exclamation points added in hopes that their presence will retroactively make the week more exciting than it actually was.)

• Monday: I journeyed into downtown Chicago with 2013's very own Sunny Kang. It was great; we totally did the tourist thing. Even after Sunny's digital camera battery ran out, we weren't going to let that stop us from serious selca-ing (yeah, that's right, I just casually dropped some non-English slang into a sentence). We stopped in a Walgreen's on the magnificent mile and bought some disposables! Which I still need to have developed, btdubs, so I'll have to do that first thing tomorrow since I leave on Sunday!!! I also went out with two of my friends from home later that night and saw the mind-numbing Eat, Pray, Love. I wanted to kill myself both during and after the movie. I should have killed myself beforehand and spared my brain the viewing. Nearly three hours of my life, wasted. Eat, Pray, Shoot Me.
• Tuesday: I spent until the wee hours of Tuesday morning taking down my braids, stopping to sleep at 4 am when I had dismantled my entire head and had combed out my hair. I snagged six hours of sleep and then woke up to finish the job. First, I took pictures, since I did promise. The first set of pictures were with my large, relatively straighter afro. Then I washed my hair with some serious business black people shampoo and conditioner and took more pictures with the smaller, curlier afro. All of these pictures are on Facebook for your viewing pleasure, as you will never, ever get to see me without braids in person. I'm not even going to apologize for that. The rest of Tuesday was spent bumming around until it was time for my appointment. Gigi, the woman I've been going to for the past couple of years, is a wicked fast braider but often schedules appointments right on top of each other so that you're waiting at least an hour before she even starts on you. She didn't disappoint on Tuesday. I was late, practically on purpose since I expected the sitting, and even after all that. Still with the sitting. Yeesh. I read a book and a half, tried to play my Nintendo DS, nodded off, and participated eagerly in Wheel of Fortune. I also watched the most of an episode of Wipeout I ever have, and it was hilarious. The Smackwall...HAHAHA.
• Wednesday: Well, something happened on Wednesday, but what was it? Oh, the great phone hunt. My sister and I have been trying to get new phones, and finally we decided on the phone and what have you, but ordering online didn't work. I needed to go to some store and verify my identity or some crap like that. So then we do that, but we can't get any of the discounts at the store. Turns out AT&T authorized retailers are franchised out like Subways or whatever, so that was just a super frustrating five hour long experience, arguing with salespeople and then schlepping all over the place in search of the phones we wanted. The store in the mall FIVE MINUTES AWAY from our house agreed to give us all of the discounts, but they haven't gotten the phones yet. A salesperson named Kelly promised me they'd be in tomorrow afternoon. We shall see.
  
• Thursday: I did a great deal of packing and laundry on Thursday. The phones hadn't come in, which I know because I called and asked.*Sigh*. I don't remember anything else of note happening on this day. I am running out of money, I think, was a thought that went through my head. Should I have worked this week, was the next thought, but I promptly laughed it out the door and slammed it shut and bolted it and forbid it reentry.
• Friday: That's today, so yeah. Did some more packing and singing to my Grooveshark playlist. My mom came home in the middle of the day to drop of my sister and told me that she had given our daycamp boss what for, which greatly pleased me because I have never been fond of that man. He manages to make everything all about himself, unless it comes to taking responsibility in which case he deflects like nuts. And then, this one time, the 3-5 year age group was on a field trip at this place that had paddle boats. All of my kids were like, Wheeennnnn can we go to the boats, Miss Tavi, and finally we made it to the boats, and the line was astronomical. So we're waiting and waiting and the daycamp boss man gets in line with us ahead of like, two families. And I was like, Um...? And tried to shoot meaningful glances and the people he had just jumped, and he was just sort of, Ho hum. Oh, I'm getting so annoyed just thinking about this next bit. He puts his son IN FRONT OF MY KIDS. Who had been waiting, so patiently, and they were being so well-behaved even though it was like a million degrees. And I was like, EXCUSE ME? But not, because he had the power to fire me, and I was just giving him very disapproving looks. I am so glad I am never working there again, because now if he ticks me off I can just say so. I have no respect for that dude. Sorry if I'm disappointing anyone. Anyway, that was a huge digression. Basically, my mom came back with Ari and brought me a salad, which was great because I was wondering what I could make to eat out of three Hershey kisses, a cheese stick, and some butterscotch candies. Nothing delicious or healthy, I can tell you that. Okay...maybe delicious. Then my mom reminded me that I had to turn in my work key, and I was like, Oh crap, because I totes did not remember where I'd left that thing. So instead of bumming around at home while my sister went to her last ever high school orientation, I went, too, so that I could search our car for it. Our car is a straight up disaster, so this is more serious than it sounds. BUT I FOUND IT, hallelujah, Lord be praised. I was starting to work my way up to getting stressed. I also won a raffle at this new brainy store that opened up in Woodfield mall, so I got a free board game. It's the junior version, and the guy behind the counter wouldn't let me upgrade it, which irked me, but whatever. It still seems fun. And it was free, so really, who am I to complain? On the way back home I texted furiously with Ama, who is fed up with our BFFLS Jing and Bryant (and I don't blame her; those boys need replacing) and has also been plotting something nefarious with our other roommate Melanie. She still won't tell me what it is, but I have only bad feelings about this. They never want to convince me to do anything like, I don't know, save kittens or something. It's always, Octavia, go date some boys. Octavia, let's all get matching tattoos in the future. Hah! I don't think so.

TTFN.

This Post Is Of Next to No Significance.

I started writing this blog because I wanted to make public some of the things I was experiencing in both my Christian walk and my regular life. I mean, obviously those two things should be one thing, but I think you understand what it is I'm trying to say so I'm going to stop rationalizing that statement now. Anyway, I was talking to a 2013 sister about how hard it is to be genuinely open with people, at least for me. On My Yay was, I think, a pretty decent first step, but it's easier to be open across the internet when people can't see your eyes or listen to the tone of your voice or note your body language a la Lie to Me. When I'm face to face with people, I have to work to want to share with them. I don't know if it was my time at Satan's Darlings Elementary, or a natural byproduct of my dysfunctional family life, but I don't want to be open with anyone. Of course, most normal people won't be open right away, but honestly, it takes me an abnormally long time to be comfortable sharing with a person. Sure, I did it (to a point) in family group and I do it (to a point) with the other 2013 sisters, but I'll always manage to stop just short of truly opening up. I (and the other 2013 girl totally concurred) have this idea that everyone else has his life sorted out, and that my life is absolute wreckage in comparison. I don't want to share with people because I feel in my heart that once they know what really goes on inside of my head and in the rest of my life, those people will feel so burdened by the mess I am that they will run in the opposite direction. Emotionally secure I am not. Too many times I have been abandoned (and I won't open up about it because it's just too much [Oh, gosh, see? But I just can't.]) for me to trust that anyone can see all that I really am and not go away or shut me out. Here would typically be inserted the upswing of this post, that part that goes, "And so I see that God is the only one who truly accepts me just as I am, and He will never leave me nor forsake me. Amen, hallelujah." All of that is true; all of that's great. For this particular post, though, I'm not just concerned about my relationship with God, though, of course, that's a priority. I'm concerned about my ability to truly fellowship with other believers. When I'm talking to anyone I really want to have fun and be chill and just talk. Talking's fun. Talking is one of my favorite things to do. But I really start to clam up when the time rolls around to start talking about our feelings and crap. I can't just be like, I feel so awful because of what's happening here, because then I'm vulnerable. But being vulnerable is supposed to be a good thing when it comes to the Christian family, right? Except I hate it and I want no part of it. Then I get that expectant look and I share but it's always a modified version of what's really going on, or it's something that'll get people to move along rather than what's actually going on. Trust issues, that's what that is. But what do I do? Push through it, I guess. Share without regard to the risks. Ugh, I hate it. I want no part of it. But I guess I'll do it.

Even So, Amen.

One of the first things that hit and stuck with me from the book of Revelation came right at the first chapter. This is, of course, before John starts to recount all of the doom and gloom that's headed Earth's way after God opens up His can of Butt-Whup. John is winding up to share the vision God gave to Him; he's already seen everything that's coming. He knows exactly what God is bringing down on His creation, and this is what he says: "Behold, he cometh with clouds; and every eye shall see him, and they also which pierced him: and all kindreds of the earth shall wail because of him. Even so, Amen." (Revelation 1:7, KJV).

I mean, really? Even so, Amen? I have a hard enough time dealing with my comparatively minor problems without feeling put upon or miserable, and John sees the end of the world in a vision and says, "Even so, Amen." I still haven't forgotten that verse, that phrase at the end has started to become something that I repeat under my breath when things start to get crazy. Praise has been one of the areas in my Christian walk that I've struggled with the most. I made some serious progress with this during/after AMI, when I really started working on remembering that I'm singing and praying and worshiping a God who hears me. When I praise God, I shouldn't just be talking to myself, or trying to hit all of the high notes, or hoping for a song I like better to come up next. When I'm praising God it should be all about God and how much I owe Him and how much I love Him/should love Him/am trying to love Him. Not long after this verse got lodged in my heart, I started actually listening to all of this Hillsong music Jessie burned me a while back. Not that I hadn't been listening to it before, Jessie, just that I would turn it on and start multi-tasking, which I realize probably isn't a good idea, but there you go. Anyway, my focus was still on "Even so, Amen." I was going through the songs and stopped on one I hadn't remembered hearing before, at least not for a long time. Anyone who's reading this has probably heard of it, but my experience with CCM has been extremely limited, so pardon my ignorance. It was Desert Song by Hillsong. I honestly couldn't believe how well the lyrics fit into my current convictions. All of my life, in every season, You are still God, I have a reason to sing. I have a reason to worship. Come on, now. That couldn't have been much closer to "Even so, Amen" if they had freaking plagiarized John.

So yeah, that's one of the things on my heart these days. Remembering to praise God no matter what's happening, which gets really difficult sometimes and never really gets easy, does it? There are other things that are up in my head/heart. I haven't been blogging regularly, so instead of my typical verb diarrhea I've got this uncomfortable verbal constipation. Give me time. It'll all come out. Hahaha, scatological references. That was straight up the most disgusting analogy I've ever used. I'm kind of proud of it.

...Eh?

I am honestly a little puzzled by what I am seeing right now. The kids are napping, as is usual for this time of the day, and I am watching a show on Hulu (also usual). Today is one of the lucky days where I got to choose whether or not I wanted the long-form commercial or the short commercials butting into my viewing. I picked long-form, obvs. Anyway, I muted the commercial because they tend to be louder than the actual show and I didn't want to wake up my kids, and then I was like, Dude. This commercial makes no sense. The commercial is for something called Tom's of Maine. They keep showing the side of the packaging, like, ingredient information, and then lots of people smiling. Then sometimes there are shots of people picking up garbage. There's a picture of a tube of toothpaste putting the toothpaste on a brush, and the word 'Honest' is next to it. If you use this toothpaste, people will think you have an honest smile. If you wear this deodorant, you will want to perform community service. Oh, hey, the word 'Human.' This moisturizer was made for humans. Or contains bits of human. It's impossible to tell with the screen on mute.

I have murder on my mind. But not in a creepy way.

I'm reading my way through my library's Agatha Christie section. I straight up adore this woman. On my iTunes I have a whole bunch of Agatha Christie murder mystery podcasts, and one 8+ hour audiobook. Audiobooks are the bomb. I like to listen to things while I sleep, so I turn on the audiobook and fall asleep to that. The next night I skip forward like, twenty minutes and then keep listening. I wonder how long it'll take me to finish the darn thing. Oh, hey, my kids are starting to wake up. The audacity they have, not being sleepy anymore. Laters.

Improv

Hiii!!! I know, it's been forever since I blog posted. I'm going to try to do better about it; just blog about my day and about random things without trying to seem alternately funny or profound. Honestly, though, I just sort of crashed internally after my NBT experience. My summer since then has been a struggle to regain my footing, spiritually speaking. Even not spiritually speaking, my summer has been a bit of a fail. I had all of these plans for what I wanted to accomplish, and this marvelous little vision of the Tavi I would be at the end of the summer, and I haven't gotten anywhere. I made slight improvements in some places, but nothing near like what I had hoped. I do think, though, that although on the outside I haven't gotten any better, on the inside I've definitely made some developments as a person. Working with the kids, even though I love to whine about them, has been great. I've learned a lot from them and I've been provoked to thought even by the littlest things they do. I've picked up a few books to read and learned some new things and new mindsets. When I get back to school and classes, I have confidence that I'll be capable of some serious butt-whupping.

I'm a little distracted right now. My kids are napping and I have an episode of The Gates playing on Hulu. So, while I've been typing up there, I have all of this vampire vs. werewolf + succubi and witch drama pumping into my ears. I wonder if it's a small sign that I'm growing up that I like the adult storylines on The Gates better than the high school storylines. To be honest, even when I was in high school I was never very appreciative of its drama, but it all seems even more ridiculous to me now. Instead, I'm all up in here like, Duuuude, Claire cannot keep hunting with Christian behind Dylan's back, because hello, what about their kill-able human daughter Emily? Devon is so evil and yet, slightly sympathetic. I hope she gets her revenge but she better not mess with the vampire family that I have decided is my favorite. That Vanessa woman is a liar. Drama! Lol, this show is pretty fun. If it were all about vampires, I would be sorely displeased, but this is closer to being the bastard child of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Desperate Housewives than Vampire Diaries meets Twilight, and thank goodness. If I have to sit through any more insipid vampire romance, I'm going to decapitate someone. Most likely Robert Pattinson. Sparkly twit. I know, I know, he's doing a job. Like I care.

Recently, I've been watching a lot of movies. I love movies, not even gonna pretend otherwise. I love movies and I love previews, and I've spent more money this summer on going to movies than on anything else (clothes/food/whatever). And omgosh! Sorry, things on The Gates just got mad intense! Christian wanted to turn Claire but Dylan did and now Claire and Dylan are married but Christian is trying to blackmail Claire into being with him but Claire's all, listen...I love Dylan. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! OMGOSH!!! Oh no, HE DIDN'T!!! I'm not even going to tell you, because you should just go watch The Gates and then we can all talk about it back at Penn. Listen, I need to go devote my full attention to all this. I'll blog again tomorrow, or at least I'll try. Bye!

Tired.

I give up. I can't do this. I don't have the strength of will. I will learn to grow content with being ugly and with being by myself. Somebody's got to do it, I suppose, as an example of how not to be, right? Fine. Whatever. Screw everything.

Eenie Meenie Miney Mo, Should I Stay or Should I Go, and other answered questions.

How I spent my time yesterday night depended on what I decided to follow--the sneaking suspicion I had for what God wanted of me or my own personal crusade for acceptance. The day camp that I work at is attached to a church, and every summer this week-long event called NBT takes place. NBT stands for Neighborhood Bible Time, and right at the beginning of the summer, hordes of exorbitantly cheerful male evangelists descend upon the place to start preparing. There are activities and services for kids from every age group, from pre-school through high school. Part of the deal I struck with my mother that allows me to go to a different church on Sundays (for the sake of my spiritual growth) mandates that I have to attend at least one service regularly, and I picked Wednesdays. This Wednesday was right in the middle of NBT. I went, but for adults there isn't much to do other than help out. My old Bible Quizzing coach is the NBT coordinator, and he said it'd be great if I could just chill with the teens and help out with the girls. You'd honestly have to drop by to understand why they'd be needing help. Bethel is a predominantly white, extraordinarily straitlaced, relatively quiet place, and the bus ministry they run brings in predominantly black, most likely ghetto, pretty freaking loud group. During NBT, the numbers swell and, for the teens, being white means you're now in the racial minority. Pastor Koontz didn't say as much, but he probably thought it'd be easier for me (black, yo) to deal with the rowdier girls than someone else. There are a few reasons why this isn't necessarily true, but I digress. The point is, I helped out. I didn't play any of the games, but I struck up conversations with girls that refused to play and opted to stand on the fringes of the action. During the service portion, I was assigned the role of counselor. Bethel's really big on keeping apples with apples, as in girls with girls, etc. If any girls came forward with questions, or if any girls wanted to talk about how be saved, I was there for that. Wednesday night, I didn't do a single thing. I went out of the room with a couple of other people, but there was only one girl and someone else took her aside. Basically, I was off work early. My mom and my siblings were done, too, so we left not too long after that. I saw Pastor Koontz as we were leaving, and told him I was debating about whether or not I should come back on Thursday. At Charlene's church, the place I've been going almost every Sunday that I've been home, there's a college-age Bible study type gathering every Thursday, and I have yet to attend one. All week I had been planning on going that Thursday, since it was close enough to walk and I had walked the route before anyway. After Wednesday, though, I felt torn. Should I go to AFC (the church) or should I stay to help out with NBT? Pastor Koontz just told me to pray about it, and that neither option was a bad one. I went to sleep feeling pretty certain that God wanted me at NBT, but after I woke up in the morning I started to convince myself that it would be okay if I went to AFC. My rationalizations included It would be good to get to know people better and It's a Bible study thing, so I'd be learning about God anyway. Whatever I said to try to convince myself, I couldn't help feeling that I was angling for AFC for the sake of people. My constant drive to win over everybody was at work, and no matter how I tried to justify going I couldn't shake the notion that I was up to no good. This pretty much lasted all day. I knew going to NBT would be the right choice, but I didn't want to give up the idea of befriending more people at AFC. As silly as it sounds, I feel like I need to invest double-time into AFC people if I'm going to make any friends, for various reasons. To me, it's a legitimate concern. I was still agonizing over it after my kids woke up from nap time, and I tale of woe-d my dilemma to Miss Lupi. I haven't mentioned this before, but that woman is a prayer warrior like no one you have ever seen. It is her answer to everything, from bug bites and lost keys to impending divorces and deaths in the family. She listened to my whining for a grand total of three seconds before saying, "Pray about it, lady. Let's pray now." After we prayed, "Now just wait. God will tell you." And every time I thought about NBT, I was pretty sure God was telling me. So, with some reluctance, I'll admit, I stayed after work to help out with NBT again. I felt more useless on Thursday than I did on Wednesday. There weren't too many girls talking or willing to talk to me on the sidelines of the games, and I ended up reading inside of the building, in the air conditioning and away from the mosquitoes that were making meals out of my legs. When the teens came back into the building for the service, I sat down in a chair by some girls who seemed likely to talk. This is the deal--if you sit next to talkers and you aren't talking, they notice. They notice even more if you're talking notes, and they care what you're doing if you offer to share your Bible, etc. A glance or two when the girls started getting louder was all it took. Those NBT evangelists are wasting time with some of their more heavy-handed approaches. Again, I'm getting off track. The point was, I sat in the service and listened and took notes. Great. Then, when the service ended, the evangelist asked if there was anyone in the room who wanted to know how they could be sure they were going to heaven. One guy very vocally made it known that he was curious. I didn't see his face, but I liked him. The cool thing about the bus kids is that they're most straight shooters. They say exactly what they think. After he said he wanted to know, a bunch of other kids felt comfortable enough to raise their hands and head to the back of the room. That was my cue, so I got up and followed, my Bible in tow. Turned out that this time there were enough girls for me to counsel. There was, in fact, a surplus! I headed to a quieter location with two girls. Qarie and Dymond were their names. Dymond had been one of the talkers I hadn't sat next to, and Qarie was a quieter, smaller girl I hadn't even noticed until then. They both had a lot of questions to ask me, and we spent a long time just sort of going over things. What sin was and how God felt about sin, how they thought it was possible to get to heaven, what they thought being a Christian meant. I was really careful while I was talking to them, because something I hate is when I feel like people are being bullied or coerced into Christianity. It's an important decision that everyone needs to make, yes, but that everyone needs to make for themselves. If they don't make the choice themselves, it's meaningless.I'll go ahead and skip to the end of the conversation (if you want painstaking detail you can email me or something) and let you know the AWESOME news. Both Qarie and Dymond accepted Christ. It was my first time ever leading anyone to that point, and I had to pretend to be all cool while I was really crying inside (and maybe tearing a little outside). I got their emails and, in Qarie's case, Facebook so that I could contact them later to see how they have been doing. I've actually got their addresses now so that I can drop by their homes to see how they've been doing. I felt so blessed by the two of them, but the overwhelming feeling I had was that God wanted me to be there. I'm sure that Qarie and Dymond would have gotten saved regardless of my involvement, but I felt blessed on another level knowing that God had used me. I was all inwardly emotional. I told Pastor Koontz and his wife, and they couldn't have been more overjoyed for Qarie/Dymond or for me. God bless 'em, haha. In the end, I wound up feeling that I had actually walked in God's will for my life. It was, I'll tell you, quite incredible.

This Tuesday: Places Frogs Should Not Be and Kids Say the Darndest Things

First, may I just say that this day has gone by super quickly? I am not complaining even a little bit, because I will get to eat faster. I have this craving for spicy food right now. Spicy food and Korean food, but the only way I'm getting Korean food is back in Philly so I'll just have to settle for now. No lie, the first weekend that I'm back at Penn I'm taking Melanie and we're just going to eat our way across campus. I'm talking Koreana, Ocean Harbor, Pod. So many places and so little time, but because it is Melanie we will eat at all of those places in one day and then she will drag me out to get something else. I cannot wait. Anyway, today has been a good work day. My kids have been extra lovable and even the twins have been quite good today.

Places Frogs Should Not Be:

Everything was fine and dandy as I helped some of my fours put on their sunscreen and told them to wait by the door. Our classroom has one door that leads to the rest of the building and one door that leads to the playground. My kids are clustered by the door, being kids, whatever. I open the door and start my little speech about holding the railing and not pushing (those steps are freaking dangerous-looking, no lie), and that's when I see something...dangling...I took a closer look and this is what I saw.

THERE SHOULD NOT BE A FROG THERE, and I guess God thought the same thing when He terminated its existence. Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, etc. I cannot even believe that I took that picture. I feel so unclean. Mrs. Bridgers and Miss Lupi tried to take pictures on their phones, but I accidentally screwed up Mrs. Bridgers' and Lupi forgot to save hers. Who cares? Who wants to save that memory anyway? I wouldn't bother posting it except it's already been seared into my brain, and I relished the opportunity to unleash the image on the world. After we brought our kids in, Mrs. Bridgers started reading them a story involving animals, in which the mother animal commands her children to do something, and they do it. Example: "Quack!" said their mother. "We quack!" said her three. And they quacked on the river that lead to the sea. Or some such business resembling that. There was a part about a frog, and Mrs. Bridgers started laughing as she read, just remembering that awful crushed amphibian. The best part was the book. "Croak!" said the mother. "We croak!" said her frogs. For those of you who are slower on the uptake, croak=die and dead=that frog you just saw up there. Heh heh heh. Ewwwwwwww.

Kids Say the Darndest Things:

After Mrs. Bridgers finished reading to the kids, she got them to make animals noises, name their favorite animals, etc. Then she started asking, what do dogs eat? What do cats eat? and so on. Obviously we're hearing the standard, "Bones" "fish" "bread" stuff, but then she asks what lions eat, to which little Shreya responded, "FLESH! They eat smaller animals!"

FLEEEESSSSHHHHH!!!

Hahahahaahahaha, zomgosh.

Prayer Eureka (may they be plentiful)

At church on Sunday, just as the worship band started up on the first song, I had a miniature prayer epiphany. I was just voicing (veerrrry quietly) how merciful God is, and how He keeps forgiving and loving me even though I am a constant disappointment. Next thing you know, freaking "Eureka." Some background, if I may. Ever since God gave me the head's up that my psychological rejection-based issues are not in His plans for me, I've been frustrated over how I'm supposed to respond to that. I mean, I get it, I'm in control of my own responses, and therefore I need to have a godly, loving response to pretty much anything people throw at me, but come on. People trample all over the remnants of my heart and self-esteem and the first words out of my mouth should be, "Oh, that felt awesome, do it some more!"? I'm thinking no. God, on the other hand, is thinking something along the lines of "get over it." Not quite so harshly, I'm sure, but you get my meaning. Here was my line of reasoning (have you ever realized how quickly your brain works sometimes? you think an entire paragraph and it's only been five seconds): I'm a Christian, and I am supposed to be like Christ. Hence the name--Christian=little Christ. Christ is God, what with that whole 3-in-1 Trinity business He/They have going on. Since I'm supposed to be like Christ, I'm pretty much also supposed to be like God. God keeps welcoming me back, forgiving me, and loving me despite the countless times that I've disappointed Him, hurt Him, and rejected Him. Therefore, I should keep forgiving people and loving people no matter how many times they disappoint, hurt, and reject me. I should always be willing to welcome them back. Well, it took me long enough, eh? It seems to me that this was another one of those cases where I knew about this forgiveness business but didn't really know it in the sense that I was putting it into active practice in my life. Not that I'm saying I'll be able to just get over everything right.this.second, but at least now I feel as though I've got a User's Guide to Godly Feelings, or some such business.

I'll take every blessing I can get.

That's why I've decided to buckle down and read through the book of Revelation. I'm sure most Christians have read it all the way through plenty of times by now, but I can't remember if I ever did. Since right at the beginning John gives a heads up that anyone who reads Revelation and obeys will be blessed, I'm in. Not that one should need blessing incentive to read through a certain part of the Bible--it's just that I don't like the thought of the world ending. I'm already braced for the rebuke finger, but honestly it isn't necessary. I know what's wrong with me. I guess I could write a lengthy blog post about all of that, and maybe as I read through Revelation I'll elaborate more every couple of chapters or something. On another note:

It's really good to have God here when apart from Him I mostly feel by myself. AMI really strengthened this part of me again, and the summer may have been more unbearable without its influence.

Critics agree--Miss Tavi is "absolutely lovable!", "fun for the whole family!", and worthy of "FIVE STARS!"

After my naptime post yesterday, I sense that there may be a bit of hesitation over whether or not children love me or are terrified of me. Succumbing to my desperate need for your affections, I have decided to write this post, featuring kids who, as a matter of fact, adore me. In your face!

We'll start with Nina! I don't have a picture of her yet because every time I had my camera she wasn't around, but I'll come back later and add her in with an edit. Nina was a four year old when I started my first (and, admittedly, best) day camp summer. Nina was super spoiled, so sometimes I had to scold her or put her in timeout for various reasons, but she still loved me. Case in point: She still remembers my name and that I was her first day camp teacher. She drew me a little picture one day that I still keep in one of my Chinese language books, since Nina remembered that I was learning Chinese and would always toss Chinese words into her speech and then very nicely explain them to me. God bless her little heart.

This is Mayan!

Mayan was hyperactive and, on occasion, petulant. Between him and his best friend Dhanush, it was a frazzling summer. At one point I just started communicating with his parents who, consequently, also really like me, hahaha! Straight up, though, those are some of the best parents I have ever dealt with ever. Sometimes parents can be just terrible, but Mr. and Mrs. Mayan's Parents were just so. nice. Anyway, I saw his mother earlier this summer and she told me that Mayan had said I was HIS FAVORITE TEACHER, and that he thought he would get to be in my class again. Unfortunately, this was an untruth, as Mayan was now five. Cute, though, no? Even though I had to dole out the discipline, this tiny person still loves meee.

This is Arya!

One of my most cutest little triumphs, Arya liked me so much that she told her dad they had to get to day camp later, so that she wouldn't have to wait for me to come. She would, on occasion, tear up if she heard that I was not around, and I spent the entire month of July reminding her that I would be going to college in August. Literally, by the end of the month, all of my kids knew where I was heading. That didn't keep them from missing me, though! Inside of a care package my family sent while I was doing PFP was a handful of pictures drawn for me by my adorable little charges. I even talked to Arya on the phone and asked her how she was doing, and she said she was sad. I don't like it when kids are sad unless their sadness helps prove my point, so there you go.

This is Hime!

I am especially proud of this example, given that Hime's primary methods of communication take place through either Japanese or silence, neither of which I am very good at, as you all very well know. Hime has only been in my class for barely two weeks, and she already loves me. Proof? Is that what you are all clamoring for? Well, AHA.

That is the little note picture thing that Hime drew for me (and that is Hime sleeping on a cot you can just barely see at the edges of the pictures). She came in with her mother, and it was my first day back from AMI (Tuesday--I took off on Monday). Her mother explained the little card for me since, as I mentioned before, Hime and I do not speak a common language. Apparently, while I was gone for almost all of the week before, HIME WAS SO SAD! So she drew me this little note picture thing, and put sooooo many stickers in it (and you know how kids can be about stickers). After my effusive declarations of love for my new note picture bookmark thing, Hime gave me a hug FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME. Gaaah, she is so cute.We have even managed to eek out a few words of English between my persistence and her fondness for Silly Bands. When I am not quick enough to name the animal (or the shape, as apparently these silly bands (...ugh...) also come in a variety of shoes or modes of transportation), Hime tells me what they are. She comes in with a new crop every day! We are going to work on full sentences next! *EDIT* OMGOSH, HIME SPOKE A FULL SENTENCE TO ME!!! In a tiny little voice that I could just barely hear, Hime told me that she has a Barbie bike. Saints alive.

So, I hope that this post has managed to convince everybody that I am not a Nazi disciplinarian with zero capacity to love and be loved (though that evil Wharton quiz would argue differently). Look, evidence! Kids love me, and my own offspring will also love me, most likely. So hah. HAH, I say.

"I Want Grandchildren, But Not Too Early" and other reasons why discipline is important.

People have told me a couple of times that they think I would be a really strict mother, and I'm going to go ahead and say that they aren't wrong. I'll certainly do my best not to become an overprotective shrew, but for crying out loud, my offspring will be DISCIPLINED. I like children, but in small, obedient doses. After four straight summers being a day camp counselor (read: glorified babysitter) for a group of age fours, I'll admit that I now like children in larger, longer doses, but gosh darn it, I still like them obedient. Nothing is shaping my potential future motherhood more than this job. I'll tell you right now that I could not imagine working with somebody else's children for the rest of my life. I have mad respect for preschool education teachers and teachers in general, because the job of teaching just seems so stifling and monotonous to me. As I mentioned a bit earlier, this is my FOURTH. STRAIGHT. SUMMER. working as a four year old counselor. The first summer wasn't that bad, as I was working in tandem with a friend, but each subsequent summer I die a little inside, wondering how in the world I will be able to make it through three months of this. It is because of my innate dread of monotony and teaching that I worked to discover some silver linings.

1. The potential for cuteness:

Aww, just look at that adorable, guileless little face!!! So cute, Lizzie!!! Don't you just want to work with kids all of the time now, just you that you, too, can see cuddly little faces like the one before you? By my estimation, at least 75% of the day camp kids are cute. The rest of them are either older kids or too bad to be cute. We'll get to those subjects in a moment.

2. Money:

Oh, don't look at me that way just because I was being honest. All right, so I'm not making so much money that I can wipe my butt with the small bills, but I do work forty hours a week and money is money, right? Penn ain't cheap, people. This is probably the best job I could have, considering its relative ease and the slack we get cut here. Wanna take a ridiculous amount of time off? Whatever, it's your money. Let me know or find your own sub. Wanna show up fifteen minutes late sometimes because your siblings have lost the ability to function (oh, those are good days--it means they aren't talking much, either)? Whatever, it's your money. Don't do it too often. You work with four year olds? Just watch them. Say nice things to them, pinch their cheeks, give them high fives. Color next to them and they will be soooo happy. Oh, also, they nap for two hours a day, so you can just go ahead and DO ALL SORTS OF QUIET THINGS with that free time!!! Really, if I didn't dislike this job, I would love this job.

3. The best lessons in what to do/what not to do. For free! CORRECTION. For MONEY!!!

That was the last money joke, I promise. For real, though, after having observed four year olds for far too much of my existence, I know exactly how I plan on raising my descendants. I figure once I get them to age four, they'll have been pretty well trained at that point and obedience will come as naturally as breathing! Those kids will be my responsibility! One of the biggest things I've learned is that four year olds can barely think properly, as they are so young that their brains are probably still a bit mushy in some places (Honestly, this is probably a lie, as I know nothing about science and will not bother trying to verify this statement). Regardless, who is to blame when kids that should be terrific go terribly wrong? THEIR PARENTS. Some of the business we get up in here, honestly.

Lesson #1: No means no.

Meet Alyssa. I told her to smile, but she just held that pose until after I took the picture. Whatevs.

Me: Alyssa, do not eat your chips until you have eaten your sandwich.

Alyssa: *eyeballs me* *slowly brings chip to mouth*

Me: Alyssa, put that chip down and pick up your sandwich.

Alyssa: *opens mouth wider, begins to insert chip*

Me: Alyssa!

Alyssa: *lets chip hover uncertainly* [I imagine her internal dialogue went something like this--*brings chip to mouth* I want my chips. Will she let me eat the chips if I try hard enough?*opens mouth wider, begins to insert chip* I wonder if she will put me in timeout if I eat the chip...*lets chip hover uncertainly*.

Clearly, someone has gotten away with this sort of thing before. I agree that it's a trifle of an issue at this point, but it starts with "Alyssa, don't eat that chip" and turns into "Juliet, don't date that boy!" and we all know how that story ends.

Lesson #2: No hitting, unless Mommy/Daddy is doing it for disciplinary purposes.

Meet the twins, Abigail and Isabel. The caption for this picture is the direct quote, "Giddyup, giddyup, moo!"

Me: Isabel! Keep your hands to yourself! No hitting, no kicking, no pinching, do you understand me?

Isabel: *nods*

Ten minutes later

Me: Isabel! What did we just talk about? Go sit in timeout. *Later* Isabel, you need to keep your hands to yourself. You are hurting people, and you are not obeying. God is happy when we obey, so you need to start obeying.

Isabel: *nods*

Ten minutes later to her twin sister

Me: Abby! What did I just tell Isabel?! No hitting!

Abby: *squirms in what I have come to recognize as agreement*

Ten minutes later

Me: ABBY! What did I JUST SAY?

Abby: But Belle is going sloooow...

Me: *inner frustration* Go sit in timeout.

Repeat every.single.day.

This is especially annoying. I tried sending a note home for the parents, but they never responded and I'm not seeing any real improvement, so I'm not sure what's happening there. They're twins, so I'm sure stuff like that flies at home. The problem is that they've started pushing the other kids, and the other kids have started pushing each other, etc. I am very displeased, and I will soon have to start pulling out the big guns. Gretchen Shaleen. A lovely woman and every small child's worst fear, as she is quite loud and startles them if they are not prepared, and they rarely are. Once again, minor pushing seems like nothing when you're only four years old, but it starts off as "Isabel, stop picking on your sister" and turns into "Cain, stop picking on your brother." Oh, I declare, another familiar story with a familiar ending.

Lesson #3: Respect your elders.

Meet the other Isabelle. Cute, right? Also bad, so there you go.

Mrs. Bridgers: No monkey bars! They are too big for you.

Isabelle: *proceeds to the monkey bars*

Mrs. Bridgers: Isabelle, no! Come here!

Isabelle: *stands there*

Mrs. Bridgers: Come here, Isabelle.

Isabelle: No!

Me: *Oooh, snap*

Mrs. Bridgers: *Retrieves Isabelle herself* We are not going on the monkey bars, do you understand me? Go play somewhere else.

Isabelle: No! *stomps foot* I want to play on the monkey bars!

She subsequently refused to sit in timeout, so I took her over to GRETCHEN SHALEEN. I can pretty much guarantee that my kids are going to be good at this one. One look at the Bray/Henry family and despite all of our other faults, respect to elders is heavily emphasized, with various accessories ranging from your standard belts and books, to new and interesting weapons such as flyswatters and the occasional tree branch if nothing else happens to be handy. I think this lesson is especially important, because it starts off as "Respect your elders or I will call the office and they will sent Gretchen Shaleen to you" and turns into "Respect your elders or I will call upon God and He will send two wild bears to maul you." I think everyone is familiar with the conclusion to this story as well.

In short, what child-rearing skills I didn't pick up from watching my younger brother and resolving that none of my sons will ever be nearly so ridiculous, I learned from summer day camp. I hope that this post has been informative, and that the things I have learned will be helpful to you as well as to me. Always remember, Train up your child in the way he should go, and he will have a longer life expectancy.

The next time I post about my kids I'll include cute picspams, okay?!

AMI = Adjusting My Identity

The AMI Revolution retreat was absolutely amazing, and I really want to write a post about it because I think writing it down will keep it straight for myself. I also want to share the experience with other people, assuming that other people actually stumble on over here. If you only want to read about the Revolution itself, skip to the middle because I'll probably have a lengthy lead-in.

When I finally met up with the rest of the GCC people headed to Atlanta, I felt genuinely relaxed for the first time in a while. I had really missed the Christian community thing being back at home, and under my breath I happily thanked God for the millionth time for bringing me to a place like GCC. Legit, I was happy to see everyone, even Jessie (hahaha, this is a joke, because in real life I actually love Jessie, get it?). I straight up pounced on Priscila (hilarious), and waited patiently for a Kevin that never came (devastating! gah! It's okay, he'll just have to be my family group leader in the fall). I was so excited to see everyone that I only slept like 1.5 cumulative hours on the trip down to Atlanta, a fact that everyone, especially JP, was thrilled to recount to any listening ear at JCA. People that I definitely did not know were like, Oh wait, I know your name. Didn't you like, not stop talking the entire way down here? Hah, Wrong. That is an untruth. I stopped talking for the 1.5 hours that I was asleep and the 3 hours that Sunny was busy calling Jabez "J-Bez", thanks so much.

The first day of AMI, we got our room assignments. Honestly, my roommates helped define AMI for me. Angela by being not at all put out by my wackness, Priscila by being a familiar presence and also limiting my contact with the opposite gender the entire weekend ("No boys except for ministry purposes!!! Don't talk to them!!!"), and Esther in a way that I'll explain later (P.S. God bless her for being the most adorable grown woman I have ever seen). To be honest, I think I must have been more tired than I realized, because even with my note-taking I only walked away with one thought after the Thursday night sermon, and that was making Christ my identity. I honestly don't remember much else without the help of my notes, and even they're a little sketchy. Regardless, that was the first thing I started praying for as a consequence of AMI: that I would make Christ my identity. For me, all of the other services just sort of fed into that initial idea, as well as other things that had been on my heart for a while. The message that Pastor Ulysses preached also really struck me because it went so perfectly with my life. I've mentioned before that I tend to compare myself with other people, mostly in ways that result in my being on the losing end. The other times that I make comparisons, though, I compare myself against people that I assume are weaker than I am, and that makes me feel stronger. I feel like I'm similar to Pastor Ulysses based on what he shared, which was that due to his fear of failure or fear of failing others, he compares himself to people in terms of service or morals so that he can make himself feel as though he's doing all right. He also addressed the fact that so many people lurk behind their environments as an excuse for their attitudes, and I while at the time I thought that that portion of the message didn't apply to me as much, it came into play later in the retreat. The second message of AMI contained more things that I was determined to address in my life, but it still had a core message that I added to my list: What is overflowing from my heart. Are you still reading this incredibly dry post? Remember that, it'll come back. The Friday night service was the lead-in to my real shake-up. It all really started during the worship. I was singing, but at the same time I couldn't help but notice the other people around me. I've never really been much of a clapper, or an emotion-shower in general. This is partially due to the way I was brought up in the church, partially due to the way I was brought up, and partially due to my general character (ooh, look at me focusing on my environment right there). I think that during that particular worship time I didn't sing much at all, I just prayed that God would fill me with His spirit the same way that other people seemed to be getting filled. I've been praying for a while that God would make Himself real to me, personally, and I think this was just another offshoot of that. Then there was the actual service. Pastor Sam preached on how we are God's children, not merely His servants. If we spend all of this time performing acts, hoping to improve our relationship with God based merely on performance, we're like canaries that have to flap their tiny little wings like, a freaking million times just to get off of the ground. If we wait upon the Lord, however, we'll soar like eagles. God's love is already there for us; He's already giving it to us and all we need to do is receive it. During the time of prayer, I pretty much just planted my face to the ground (not really literally, because I'm not very flexible, but you get the point) and tried to find out why I don't love God as much as I should. I held God up against my parents and against other people that I value and tried to convince myself of the obvious, that unlike any of these people, God won't hurt me or leave me or reject me. So why can't I just love Him more than I love these other people, more than I love people in general? One of the strongest things I felt was that I really need to spend more time in God's word and in prayer. I've gotten so much better about doing my devotions every day, but I know that I've started to settle into an attitude of complacency, of let's get this done so I can sleep. I thought back to how I am affected by the overflow of my heart, and that I can't love others if I don't love God. I took a minute to really pause and pray for the ability to love my family. My family situation is this whole gigantic can of worms that I really hate cracking open, but suffice it to say that I really find it difficult to act in a loving way toward most of my family members. I could blame it on a million things, but something that was reinforced in me from Pastor Ulysses' morning message was that I am responsible for my own responses. So I prayed to God that He would help me love my family despite the junk that goes down on a nearly daily basis. When I finally finished praying by myself, I got in line to be prayed for by Pastor Sam. Waiting in that line was one of the most stressful things ever. I was so anxious about what God would do, but eager at the same time. I had only been prayed over once before, so it was and still is one of those new things, you know? I don't think that I breathed regularly the entire time that I was waiting. When I finally got up there, it was completely worth it. I felt like Pastor Sam's prayer for me covered everything I had been feeling since even before the retreat. I'll go ahead and paraphrase, but he basically said that God was telling me that rejection (and a handful of other sad sounding words) was not my identity, but that He was my identity (ooooh, did you CATCH THAT?). He prayed that God would fill me with His anointing (thaaaank you, I wanted that), he prayed that I would know I am God's child, and he prayed that I would basically just be internally healed. Then he was finished, and I went right to the back of the room and just like, lost my mind for a minute there. I was so overwhelmed because I was like, GOD HEARD ME. I feel like I know all of these things about God, like, yes, He is there and yes, He is listening, but it was the first time in a really long time, if not in forever, that I really experienced it for myself. The rest of the retreat was just like, frosting on my Friday night cake. The Saturday morning service had Pastor Mark talking about how the Holy Spirit was like, a gift, and not an answer to morality, which was really a huge encouragement to me since I was trying so hard to be moral enough and good enough to be as Spirit-filled as other people that I know. Pastor Young preached on Sunday night, and it was a good message but totes def the same one from May 16, hahahahaha. It was the prayer time afterward that I really appreciated, where Esther prayed for me and really just confirmed everything that Pastor Sam had prayed for me as well, so I just felt really secure with what God wanted for me after I prayed with her.

This post is completely wack, in that it lacks coherence and there is a distinct shortage of wit happening. It's honest, at least, so I'll give myself points for that.