Rewind: Let's Take a Step Back

You know, we hear and confirm all the time that life is flying by at a million miles an hour and things are going by so fast that we never take the time to sit back and appreciate them. It’s so true. I’m only 24 and I know I’m constantly feeling like time is flying by and I won’t have enough of it to accomplish everything I’m called to do. I have A LOT to say about this, and will, in a future entry. There are so many things happening in my life at the moment; but I still need to get things all settled before I can go into depth about them here. But know that a long post will be coming in the next few weeks explaining so much about the past few months of my life. I know I’ve been conspicuously absent from this blog for so long now, and this has been the main reason. I’ve been dying to write so many things; but I need to make sure everything is settled in reality before I can divulge it all online. How terrible would it be to find something out about someone online rather than from them personally? So hold out just a little longer dear followers, I will fill you all in soon, I promise.

That aside, I’ve been looking back through my entries and I have several drafts written up that I’ve never posted. I edit and reedit my entries depending on what I’m saying and I end up not getting the chance to finish them sometimes. Then, life flies by, and I never go back to finish or post them. It’s a shame really; some are funny and interesting or have really great moments. At this point however, I’m going to do a really quick summary of a few of them so the gist can at least fall into the expansive abyss that is the web for random people to stumble upon. That, and I’m trying to wrap up a bunch of things I’ve left open and waiting for far too long.

A few were explaining my summer, beyond the identity crisis I went through, these entries were the fun stuff: travels, adventures, and sun! So here is the short version (all richness of detail extricated, which is unfortunate, but I suspect I don’t hold people’s interest much anyway, so why assist the process). After the semester ended, I went to DC with Kayla to visit my sister. We did all of the touristy things: monuments, museums, the works. I realized after all the times I had been to DC to help my sister move and graduate and everything in between, I still had never seen any of these. She moved back to PA in the middle of the summer, so that was my last chance with a free place to crash. Kayla and I returned to DC for a second visit several weeks later where we met up with some of my old friends from high school. We went out to the bars (Kayla and I, my sister and her friends, and my high school friends) and made new friends. Kayla and I got to go rock climbing with these friends the next day. I went hiking several times with Jeremiah as we got to know each other, become friends, and ultimately began dating. I became even closer with the VanScoten clan than I was and am continually blessed by their impact on my life. Kayla and I then took a kayaking trip down the Delaware River and paddled 80 miles in three days. That’s about a third of the entire length. The goal is to knock out the other two thirds in the future. Following that, Kayla and I went down to Nola for a few days and had an amazing time touring, biking, visiting Tulane, eating beignets, and so many things that would take pages more than I can spare to discuss here and now. It was a really eventful and life changing summer for sure. I’m so blessed for all of the opportunities I’ve had and can’t wait to see what else is in store for future summers.

I also had a draft that was about a great moment I had in church. I’m going to just cut and paste it below. Keep in mind it was probably about mid-summer that I actually wrote this, so it’s dated, but it was well expressed and when I read back through it I knew I wanted to make sure it did actually get posted at some point. So here goes:

“I had a really amazing moment in church probably a month or so ago now. The pastor asked all the women to place our hands on the men and pray over them for something specific that we were talking about in church that day. I placed my hand on the guy I was sitting with at the time but noticed another man in front of me with no women next to him. I admit I did hesitate, I'm not always the most outgoing in these areas, but I truly felt like I had to step up so I placed my other hand on this man's shoulder to pray over him as well. As pastor was praying I kept thinking about how my arm was starting to hurt because I was reaching out so far to be able to touch this man's shoulder. Almost as soon as I finished that thought I felt God telling me that sometimes it may be uncomfortable or even painful to reach out to others to touch them with God's love, but the joy of knowing you endured it to glorify Him is so amazingly wonderful. It was a big slap in the face for my missionary heart and definitely an arrow pointing me toward my appropriate future. The symbolism that God showed me in that instant was truly awesome. After service that man came up to me and shook my hand and thanked me several times. He said it meant so much to him and he felt so compelled to tell me how grateful he was. I know that was God's way of confirming what He had just planted in my heart.”

Even now, rereading this does great things in my spirit. God is just so awesome. This excerpt will also be very intriguing to keep in mind for when I am able to finally write the long post I mentioned at the start of this one. It was a powerful moment for me and I think these kinds of moments are crucial to share to uplift and encourage others.

There was one other draft in the battery of half-written thoughts on my page, but this one I think I will actually write, eventually. It has no real significance, but it just fun and interesting. I intend to get much more involved on this blog again in the next few months, so I’m sure it will be posted at some point. I guess at this point, that’s all I have for this post. Basically, I just wanted to address the things I had already drafted but never posted and put them out here in some form at least; and give anyone who actually reads this a heads up that I haven’t dropped off the planet and that big things are coming: a huge story about change and growth and a much more attentive writer to her blog. Big things are happening, don’t shy away from the greatness you’re called to! Until next time faithful readers, adieu!

Chapter 2: Moving On?

I’ve just started reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and it really has me thinking. I think I’ve always believed in divine intervention. I don’t think I’ve always called it that; I don’t always now; but the concept has always existed to me. I’ve always thought that everything happens for a reason—good or bad—you’re meant to learn from certain things or they happen exactly when you need them to so you can learn something or take one step closer to fulfilling your ultimate potential. The reason I bring this up is because I bought this book years ago. It has been sitting on my shelf collecting dust and making friends with the dozens of other books I’ve purchased and pushed aside for the sake of schoolwork. I picked it up tonight out of what seemed to be sheer coincidence. I LOVE reading; I fall in love with the language and the imagery, the people, the places. They become real to me and I’m sad when I finish a book and have to say goodbye to the characters I had invested so much time in, so much that I feel as if they are friends who have moved away and I may never see again. I finished reading a series this evening and as always, a feeling of despair and loneliness crept over me at the loss of those friends and places. The easiest fix to this for me is grab something off the shelf and delve into the next universe and when I feel close enough to the characters and am sure they will still be around tomorrow to surprise me with their adventures, I can finally go to sleep. When I went to my shelves tonight I was looking for some fictional book I could drown myself in for the next few hours. I’ve mostly exhausted my fictional books apparently and those remaining were not catching my interest. There remained a few shelves of non-fictional books. These are not the textbook type books that come to mind when you hear “non-fiction” but rather real stories told by people who lived them. These kinds of books have intrigued me for a while now; as I’ve mentioned many times before, I love travel and I love to write. These books are basically people traveling for one reason or another and writing about their experiences and how they’ve grown and learned. I have books like this from China, India, Afghanistan, Mali, and on the list goes. I can’t completely say what made me choose this one, again I refer to the divine intervention thing here, but tonight, I picked up Eat, Pray, Love. I lent this to a friend right after I bought it and she loved it and said I would too, but life went on, one thing led to another, and you know the story. But tonight, I started reading it and I’m only about 30 pages in but it already has me looking at so many aspects of my life—how they are, how I want them to be. The author begins her tale by explaining the relational struggles and changes she is going through; I can certainly relate to that on several levels right now. She explains how she was “culturally a Christian, not theologically” which, I thought was a great way of describing that divide that Christians often point out in our society. She “opens a religious conversation” with God and her life, relationships, work, and travels go from there. Like I said, I’m not very far along yet, but I am certainly intrigued and invested already. She makes me want to get up and go. I’ve said in previous entries how I’m excited to get out and live my own life, how traveling is my biggest passion, how I’m dying to write. At several points already I’ve set the book down, looked around my room, and started planning to pack it up. I’ve already taken mental notes of certain characteristics and stylistics of writing that I would be interested in using for my own future works. I’ve certainly been thinking of how I’d love to travel to the places she talks about. (Again, I already wanted to travel everywhere, this has only made me rearrange the list a bit). I can already see it: my small house somewhere—my home base, a neighbor watching over it as I go off for a few weeks or months at a time—exploring remote areas of foreign nations, documenting all of the highs and lows of my visits, compiling each anecdote into some work to inspire others and instill passions within them as my favorite authors have done for me, coming home long enough to enjoy those close to me until I need to move again so I concoct another trip and head off.

Even now, I pause to collect my thoughts on where to go next with my writing here and I find myself evaluating my room again. I like where I’ve come from, what I’ve done so far, what I value, but there’s still something missing. There’s something inside me that’s urging—more like yelling in my soul—that I need to travel and write and get out of this small town and really do something. I mean no disrespect to my hometown or the people in it; it’s just not my calling. Growing up I always said I was going to move far away. I went through a short phase where I was afraid to move out of the wing of my family but events that followed obviously made that decision for me. But now, things are actually really good for my family; in the grand scheme of things they aren’t great, but for my family, this may honestly be the best they’ve ever been for me. I’m on my own, managing my own responsibilities—car, apartment, insurance, school, work, pets…all of these status symbols that I’m an adult in the U.S. but it’s not where I’m called. I’m not even necessarily talking about this from a religious standpoint—although I’ve noticed that they often (if not always) go hand in hand in my life. I think it’s partly because I just finished school this past week (for the summer that is); it doesn’t help that Conner is getting fixed so I’m car-less and stuck in the house for a few days—it leaves me far too much time to think (did I mention I don’t have cable or internet here either?) so all I do is read, listen to music, and think. I’m obviously not opposed to any of these; it just really gets me on tangents sometimes. I just wish I knew where I was going. If I could (which who knows, I may actually end up doing this for all I know) I would just start packing up my things here in this house. Pack up all the memories and put those into a pile to save and open to recount my life to my children someday; pack up all the things I would want to unpack when I actually find that house with the friendly neighbor to watch over it while I travel; and pack up all those things that I want with me in the here and now, the things that will traverse the globe with me and be mentioned for their participation in one crazy event or another. I want to be completely prepared so that when that door finally opens, that light points the way, I can up and go and just really live. I feel like I’m in limbo, biding my time and waiting to see what I’m supposed to do—I hate that. There is a quote from the movie “You’ve Got Mail” that caught my attention the first time I saw the movie as a child. Meg Ryan’s character is typing an email and says, “So many thing I see in life remind me of something I read in a book when, shouldn’t it be the other way around?” As much as I have been blessed with, I still feel like this is my life. I don’t want to live only in these other worlds, through other people. I’m here, I exist, I’m able. It’s time I started living these things myself.

I'm Seeing a Theme in My Life

Wow. There are so many different things that I want to talk about here but with school and life and everything else I have found it increasingly difficult to sit down and post on this thing. Now I look back and have maybe five different things that could have been full posts individually with more depth and meaning to all of them and unfortunately I will cram most, if not all, into one mere entry and never do them justice as I had originally intended.

I've written posts about this before in other blogs and while I always think it's semi-stupid and semi-funny to write about, there is still something behind the surface that is very important. Sadly, I am a Gleek. For those of you who have no idea what that is or are thinking of that weird spitting thing from under your tongue and are even more confused, let me help. A Gleek is someone who watches the show Glee and (unfortunately) gets too into it. Basically, Glee is a trashy show with so much ridiculous drama that I really can't stand it most times. However, as the title suggests, this is about a glee club: therefore, lots of singing. I get sucked into this stupid show all the time because of the great music they put out (mostly remakes, but they have dabbled in original works recently). So while the plot-lines drive me nuts, the music keeps me coming back. Every once in a while however, they come out with something pretty great. The episode I'm talking about is "Born This Way". The episode focuses on accepting the things you hate about yourself because you were born that way and are special for a reason. This culminates with a performance of "Born This Way" by Lady Gaga. I had never heard this song until then (I know, I live under a rock...named gradschool; and I know this episode isn't even the most current one, but I was behind due to traveling and schoolwork) but the song is really great. I just think the entire episode was really inspiring because there are songs throughout the entire episode and the way the chose the songs to mix with the theme was incredible. There was a mash up of "Unpretty" and "I Feel Pretty" that two girls were singing while the one was going to the doctor about getting plastic surgery. It was a very powerful few minutes to watch actually. The desire that young girls face to be something they think they're supposed to be mixed with the sadness of losing who you really are leaves you a little stunned as an audience. Not that this isn't a message we're seeing more frequently these days, but it was very tactfully done and I was moved by it. Ultimately, the entire episode was very inspiring and I thought it was worth mention here because it isn't often that these messages are portrayed to the masses by people they are actually interested in mimicking.

The next thing I wanted to mention was something that has been running around in the back of my mind...I guess for a few years now actually, and in terms of it being immediately on my mind it comes and goes at select moments. Recently (I think maybe two weeks ago now) was one of those moments, although it was shorter-lived this time than most, probably because I've been so overwhelmed with the end of this semester. Many of you may know that I've played around with the idea of being a missionary for a while. I continuously try to see where God is ultimately leading me and I'm sure I pretend to hear certain things that I don't because I'm human and I don't want my world turned upside down like God calls it to be. Anyway, I've always known I was built to travel--I wouldn't have this built in passion for it, no known allergies, and no fear/dislike/sickness from planes or boats if it wasn't something I was meant to do in my life. Nathan always told us to look at what we had in our hands and not compare ourselves to others--this is one of those things I'm sure is in my hand for a reason. The thing is though, I'm not sure if I'm meant to be flitting off to Africa or elsewhere to start a ministry. I've always felt like more of a speaker, friend, and role-model more so than a minister or pastor. So this has led me to question where I'm supposed to be then. Growing up, while I would have to say my biggest passion has always been travel, the second thing I would say is writing. It has taken many forms throughout my life, but I can't remember not liking to write in some way shape or form: poems, short stories, attempted novels, blogs, and so many more, I love it all. So my thought was maybe there is something I'm supposed to do with writing and use that to travel and speak worldwide. I don't know for sure yet, I'm trying to see where I'm led without letting my personal wants to influence things, but I think that would be a really cool and amazing use of my life. Another thing I've been feeling very strongly about is my age. I'm young, and I think that is something I'm supposed to take advantage of. It started out almost as a gimmick for school--I'm impressive and worth your time because I finished undergrad early--by now I'm 23 and almost done with my PhD. This becomes a really mixed bag though. I am very proud of my accomplishments--but what do I have to be proud about? I need to be pulled down a peg or two sometimes because I let these accomplishments mean too much to me. However, I have gotten a lot of respect and admiration from my accomplishments, and while that can easily fall back into the pride problem, my point here is that it got me thinking. If people have come to respect me and look up to me because of my accomplishments in comparison to my age, shouldn't I be using that to glorify God? I've had a good deal of time to think about this and I'm sure that I'm supposed to use my age to influence people. The question is when? Where? I know each and every day should be used to glorify God and show Him to others, but I truly feel called to be going somewhere and doing it more openly than just acting in accordance with His word. This is where I get stuck and I fear not figuring it out soon enough and then, I'm no longer this young age-meant to influence a certain generation or group. I'm curious though, about this blog specifically. This may be a gateway to something I don't see yet. I couldn't even tell you the reason I started this specific blog, it was a very spur of the moment decision for me. And I've never held a blog quite as regularly as this one. Nor have I gotten as much feedback from seemingly random people about what I've written than I have with this blog. So maybe this is just the first door I need to walk through to get to the ultimate goal. I still don't know, like I said, I'm still looking for direction, but I'm slowly putting pieces together and I know there has to be something going on under the surface here.

It's hard sometimes to keep your eyes on God and trust that what you're hearing is form Him and not a manipulation of many other things in life. But there are certain moments, when you have no doubts, none whatsoever, that you have been blessed and that God was holding you in that moment. There is no way to describe the feeling of peace and excitement that comes with 100% knowing God's touch; this weekend was one of those moments. A great friend of mine, Kayla, ran a marathon yesterday. I know she was really nervous and psyching herself out the whole time: she had completed a marathon years earlier, and when she attempted another, she ultimately dropped out. This has been plaguing her ever since and it has been killing me to watch her torture herself with it. The only thing that could help her overcome was to complete another one: so the gauntlet was thrown and yesterday was her day for personal redemption. I had no doubts that she could do it but I knew she would get into her head and start psyching herself out so I was worried for her. Apparently, around mile 12 she ended up feeling sick, plus having pain, and of course, the mental psyche-out had begun. I could have cried when she ran passed us at one point, I didn't want her to torture herself for something I knew she was more than capable of doing. We caught up with her at another point where I had decided I would run a few blocks with her to see if I could get her spirits up a bit. Worth a shot right? That was where God stepped in. And while I had fleeting moments of knowing He was there (partially because my "Team Kayla" shirt was decked out in scripture, partially because a lot of runners commented about how great the shirt was, and partially for other reasons soon to come), I didn't put too much thought into it until after. To make a long story short, I ran 8 miles, in jeans, after not having done any real athletic activity in about two months. I went with Kayla from mile 17 to 25 and she was definitely in better spirits when I left her than when I joined her. Rhi, Kayla's roommate, caught up with us right at 25 and took her the rest of the way in. There was blessing after blessing in that hour-ish time. And so many things that are a slap in the face that duh! God knows what's going on and has had it planned forever. Case in point (silly as it may sound): I haven't worn sneakers in months, even with the cold Binghamton weather, I've been wearing flip flops because I'm in rebellion against the cold and demanding nice weather. So, any ideas as to why I wore sneakers to that race? In Delaware-a place significantly warmer than Binghamton. Top that off with the fact that I had actually brought my running sneakers instead of my other ones. Small, stupid even, but a pretty big coincidence if you ask me (and I've said before, I don't really believe in coincidences anymore). But like I was saying, God did so many things in that time: I have a recurring hip problem from running on pavement in high school; I have never run 8 consecutive miles in my life; I haven't run at all in about two months; I have a really sore side from Friday, so even walking at times during the weekend hurt a little; I was wearing tight, denim jeans. And yet- the whole time I ran I felt no pain, no discomfort, and all else considered, no exhaustion. God held me so I could jabber on about nonsense and try to distract Kayla and lift her spirits. God lifted her spirits through me-I was used by God-that's so cool! I'll never be so excited about being used by anyone, haha. I called it quits at mile 25 and right as I told Kayla to push on, and felt terrible about sending her off alone, I looked up and bam! There's Rhi, heading right to her to take over where I had to stop. Rhi even said afterward that she never planned to come that far up the course, one thing led to another and it just kind of happened. Not only did Kayla complete her race and completely conquer all of the bad memories from the last one, but she didn't walk once during this race-a brand new accomplishment for her! I'm so, so proud of her for getting through the day. And I'm beyond excited about all of the blessings that were poured on us during that race; retrospectively it's all just so amazing to see how the pieces so perfectly fit together. It was definitely one of those moments I will always look back on and feel God's presence and blessings.

There were a few other things I wanted to bring up in this entry but I think I'll save them for another time since they aren't as in-keeping with the theme I've managed to build here. So I guess I'll just finish this up by saying never doubt that God has you in the palm of His hand; and when you least expect it, He'll show you how much he loves you and let me tell you-it's really overwhelming, but worth every second of pain, anxiety, or sorrow you've dealt with. He is awesome.

Rambling Pensiveness

I've had a lot on my mind lately. I feel like I'm in a state of transitions and I'm not sure what they all mean, let alone what they all are. I guess I'll start with school transitions. I've got two weeks left in my second year of grad school. Honestly, there are a lot of times that I'm surprised I made it this far. Some of you may know the internal struggles I've gone through from just about day 1 since I started. I've had issues being up here in just about every realm of life, yet somehow I've managed to stay in my program (probably out of sheer unwillingness to give up-a blessing and a curse I suppose, but I have no doubts I'm made this way for a reason). Anyway, while finishing my second year may not seem like any big deal, to me it's pretty huge. I only have one semester of classes left after this before working solo on my dissertation. Granted there are still many hurdles before I get to that point, but my class load, the last classes I will ever have to take in my life (that's a wonderful thought!) are mere months from being completed. The real world for me kind of starts there. I will need to manage my own time to complete my dissertation, find funding, and hopefully, find a job while I'm writing or at least set one up for when I graduate. It's weird to me to be in this place. I certainly feel more like an adult than I ever have in my life, but it's still weird to take that step back, look at yourself, and try to figure out how you actually because this real person. I am being ridiculously inarticulate and frankly, cheesy about this, but again I find myself unable to really express what's going on in my head. Along with starting my final semester of classes in a few short months, I will also be living in a new apartment. No, I don't know where yet, but my roommate and I know that living next to our ridiculously loud neighbors is certainly not conducive to schoolwork, let alone dissertation writing. Hopefully, in a few months time, we will be living in a nice place outside of all the noise that is Binghamton, with a backyard to relax in.

In terms of jobs, I have been free of the restaurant a few short weeks and it has been wonderful. However, this also means I will need a new job for the summer to pay the bills. I have a possibility lined up and it would actually be quite ideal if it works out. My main goals for this summer are to get a first draft of my prospectus completed, do some research toward my dissertation, get back in shape, and have some fun time with friends. The job I am hoping pulls through is to work the desk at the gym I currently attend. This job would actually make all of my summer goals more than possible. While sitting at the desk I will have plenty of time to research and write. I will get a free membership to the gym for the summer and it seems like I have some good resources to switch shifts for the few days I want to hang out with my friends. Plus, having this job would obviously allow me to pay for my apartment, car, phone, and all the other materialistic crap that we undoubtably "need" being brought up in the U.S.

That last statement is obviously something else that has been on my mind. I love technology; being brought up in my generation it's hard not to. Yet for all of the "stuff" I have, I've been growing to kind of hate it. As much as I love playing on Facebook and obviously I enjoy writing in my blog and so many other things, I hate being so connected to everything. This is part of what came to pass in Romania. Obviously, no cell phone, very limited internet, nothing going on it that sense. I miss that. I kind of hate my blackberry right now. If I could, I'd get a crappy, first generation cell phone and keep it off unless there was an emergency--you know, the reason why cell phones originally became popular--not to be engulfed by emails, texts, Facebook notifications, tweets, and I don't even know what else. I love Conner, especially since I got the title in the mail (I own my first car, so cool!) but I'm dying to be able to ride my bike to school rather than driving everywhere (and if the stupid weather in Binghamton didn't suck, I could actually do that). Even now as I'm typing this (which like I mentioned, I realize is a bit hypocritical since I'm on a computer, posting a blog and complaining about being too connected) I have to stop to check all of the emails that just came to my phone. If I had my way, I would pick one way to be this connected and say screw the rest. Let me have my blog I'll be just fine traveling, working, and doing whatever else minus the phone, the emails, the texts, Facebook, and the like. Again, I know I'm being hypocritical because I live in the U.S. and I will continue to play on Facebook and text all of my friends, but I'm so annoyed at it all and at myself for enabling it to continue. I joke with a lot of my friends about this but maybe one day I really will just become a hermit and only come out of my little hole to travel before ducking back inside.

Along with these transitions in school and adulthood and the like, I feel like I'm finally transitioning out of my past. While I realize there are billions of people who have had much worse lives than I will ever have, I've had a pretty trying 23 years so far (if you know me well enough you obviously know the big points, if you don't maybe one day I'll decide to talk about some of them here-no guarantees). There have been some events and some people that have been weighing me down for years and as hard as I've tried to move past them, there always seems to be that tether that's able to drag me right back down when I least expect it. But I think being away from PA for a while now has helped me to finally realize what I let myself get sucked into. Ultimately, there is only so much that you can do in life and for me to try to please everyone and pretend like everything is fine will never happen. Acceptance and growth. I'm sure I will upset people in the future and it will seem like I have no regard for people's feelings but at this point I really need to do what's best for me and what I feel I'm called to do. There are people in your life who mean well and ultimately make things worse; if it's insensitive to make the choice not to go under then fine; I'm a jerk. It's something I'll have to live with at this point because I can't keep worrying every single day about things that are in the past. I can't control my past but I can control my future, and I choose to move forward and live a life that will make me as happy as I can be here on earth.

There are still so many other things I've been thinking about. I think if I continued to talk about them all this entry would end up being obscenely long. I don't want to make anyone have to read that much. Which, apparently, is quite a few people: in the last four days I've had more people come up to me and talk to me about my blog than I ever knew even knew of its existence. I'm a little shocked to know that many people actually read this stupid thing (I say stupid because I'm obviously still a bit resentful to technology, hypocritical as I'm being right now). So for all of you who have revealed yourselves as readers (and the others who they must have found out from, who I still don't know who they are) thanks for checking out my random ponderings, ramblings, rants, joys, and so on. It's cool to know that anyone at as is interested in anything I have to say. Which has been another thing on my mind actually, the lack of value of what I have to say in the grand scheme of things, but I'll save that rant for another time. For now, I'll just say that as much as I feel like I've figured out about myself and my life recently, I still feel like I'm ultimately so lost. It's the old, for every door that closes two open in its place thing. There are so many doors open in front of me. While there are some I obviously will be going through, there are so many more that leave me wondering what's next. Maybe I'll never know; it's all part of life, but every now and again I get very pensive and rambling is my only outlet. This entry probably doesn't even make much sense, it has basically been a stream of consciousness anyway. So my apologies for those of you trudging through this thing hoping for some sort of revelation; I don't know if you really got anything out of it at all; I'm not even sure I did, but talking in circles helps me clear my head (ironic as that is). Next time I'll make sure I've got a more straightforward message to convey. As straightforward as anything is in life these days anyway.

A Whole New World

There are no words to describe how amazing our trip to Romania was. I will truly never be able to fully explain how much we did, how real our experiences were, and how much the trip affected me as a person. All I can say is, I learned so many things about the country, the world, my friends, and myself.

I'm not sure what any of us were expecting on this trip (any of us being myself and the guys, Diana obviously had a better idea than us) but what we experienced was exponentially outside of our imaginations. The day we started traveling was long to say the least. I got up and drove to Binghamton to pick up Francis and drove back to Saylorsburg to park at my mom's house. Steve and his brother met us there to drive the three of us to Newark Airport. We met up with Diana there and boarded our first flight. It was a long flight, filled with poor attempts to sleep and lots of stupid jokes (although the migraine I had for most of that flight did not make that leg of the trip very pleasant at all). From there we had a three hour layover in London. We sat down in a cafe and had some tea and food while we waited, chatting away the hours, enjoying each others' company and anticipating the rest of the trip. Finally, we boarded our second flight (which was over in a heartbeat considering we all passed out until they said "Welcome to Budapest"). We got a car to the train station where we met up with Diana's cousin, Paul. He has lived in Hungary for the past 12 years and he took the day to show us all of the monuments possible. We hopped train after tram after bus. We never would have seen as much as we did or even chanced any public transit without him. If you are my friend on Facebook you can get an idea of just how much we saw considering I have an entire photo album from just this day. Keep in mind, we only spent 6 hours in Budapest and the 104 photos I have online are only the ones I pulled out to post; there are so many more. After a long afternoon in Hungary, we boarded our train to take us to Romania. Again, laughing and jokes all around, keeping each other awake so we wouldn't miss our stop, getting delayed by customs and police people. Finally crossing the border and meeting Diana's dad. We made it to their home after midnight and Diana's mom and dad were both more than ready to feed us our first traditional Romanian meal. Three or four courses later, so stuffed we could barely think straight, we finally made our way to our beds. It was a ridiculously long 48 hours, but well worth every second. We were greeted with traditional Romanian Polinka (a strong, home-made liquor that is served with every meal--yes, breakfast too), warm hugs and happy faces, and a place to stay, where saying we felt welcome is the understatement of my life.

We woke the next day to another several course meal. Then there was the pig. Diana's parents prepared to have a traditional pig for us to eat. They killed and butchered it right there at the house and we had wonderful steaks and sausages and so much more for the remainder of our trip. I chose not to watch the initial stages (which the guys loved to tease me about). In retrospect it was very cool and the food was great, I just am not capable of forming any kind of attachment to an animal if I know I am going to eat it. We drove around Santana (Diana's town) a bit with her dad. We saw what the town had to offer and spent the day relaxing around her house. Her house by the way, was very cool. Her backyard is probably one of the most peaceful places I've ever had the pleasure of relaxing in. We met her niece, Maia. She was very cute but very afraid of us at first. She certainly came around later in the week, but it took a while for her to stop associating us with the dead pig. Diana got her hair done which took a while; so Steve, Francis, and I were dropped off at a restaurant where we had a drink and just talked about random things before we set off roaming around Santana ourselves. We walked for a few hours just enjoying the peacefulness and admiring everyday life in Romania (and how welcomed we were by the Branduse family). We finally met back up with Diana before heading back home to eat some tasty pork. We went out for a bit that evening into Arad, the city about 30 minutes from her home. We saw monuments, visited Diana's past, had ice cream, played in the park, and just had memorable experience after memorable experience. That night ended with the knowledge that we would be getting up before dawn the next day to head out on our Romanian roadtrip. Diana's dad was going to drive us clear across the country, making a big circle so we could see everything the country had to offer. Do you ever get these opportunities in real life? It was all so surreal.

Bright and early we piled ourselves into the family car. Diana in the front, obviously so she could talk with her dad, and Francis, Steve, and me in the back. I can't even tell you how many hours we spent in the backseat over those two days, but in the long run it was a really great time and I will hold those memories for a lifetime. We got to see the sunrise over the mountains as we drove. We saw historical landmarks, heard old Romanian legends, stopped for traditional foods, and got first hand experience of the craziness that is Romanian driving and traffic. We made it all the way to Bucharest, the capital city, where we had a driving tour as we tried to escape the traffic. We made it out of the city and found ourselves in another town where we stopped to find a hotel for the night. We had a nice fish dinner and then went back to the hotel for some drinks. We hung out basically all night just laughing and talking; again, so many memories that I can't even begin to explain them or how much fun I had.

The next morning we headed back out to continue our journey. We drove through the Carpathian Mountains, which were some of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. We stopped to take photos at the tops of some of the mountains and the feeling of peace was just indescribable. We saw more monuments to battles, monasteries, cheese, sheep, flowers, churches, and even more beautiful mountain scenery. We made our way to Dracula's castle, which was unfortunately closed, but still so cool. And hey, just another excuse to go back soon! We did a little shopping and went through a haunted house (thank you Francis). It was a fun experience for us as a group though, considering none of us made it out of that thing without screaming. Then we got in the car and made the last (very long) leg of our journey back to Diana's house. I think we arrived around 2/2:30am aka we passed out quick.

We slept in the next morning. When we finally got up it was just to be a relaxing day at home. Something that I thought was very cool: we ended up borrowing some of the neighbors' bikes and the four of us took a bike ride around Santana. We stopped to have a drink and chill, then back on the bikes for a bit. It sounds so simple, maybe even boring, but there was just something about it. Doing something so home-ish in a foreign country, I'm not describing this well at all, but there is just something so cool about that to me. Maia came back over and we had all fully bonded by now. We played and watched her laugh and enjoyed the simple pleasures of it. We ended up going to a Shepard 's field to see the sheep with her. The Shepard was very nice and fed us homemade meat and cheese (as if we could have eaten any more food with the vast amounts being pushed at us every few hours). He thought I spoke Romanian very well (for the little I know) and I thought that was really cool. We brought Maia home and then the four of us hung out for a while. The next morning would be Easter, so at midnight, Diana's church has a ceremony where you light candles and circle the church three times before a service. We went and it was definitely an experience. We lit our candles, made our rounds, listened to them speak outside, and when the service started we decided to leave. We obviously wouldn't have understood it anyway and it apparently would have gone well into the morning; so we made the walk home, stargazing the whole way.

Happy Easter! The next morning we got up to a traditional Romanian Easter breakfast including colored eggs which we cracked on each others' eggs (a tradition in that region of the world). We spent another day playing with Maia, relaxing in Diana's backyard, and eating full traditional meals. Today we had lamb instead of pork (for lunch at least). After a long relaxing day, we left for town to go to a traditional Romanian Ball. There was a band and traditional dancing (although the clothing was all modern). The four of us took a shot at dancing--there are no words to describe how funny we must have looked. We met some new people, at least Steve and Francis certainly did, and had a good night laughing and dancing. We did dance a lot considering we didn't know the steps well, but it was all part of the experience and just a fun new thing we tried. It was night for some good girl talk between Diana and I while the boys had some "girl talk" of their own, ha.

We woke up on Monday, and piled back in the car. We drove to Timisoara, a city about an hour from Santana. We learned about the history of the 1989 revolution and saw where it all began. We walked around Victory Square and did most of our souvenir shopping. We came back to Santana to enjoy our last evening in the company of our amazing hosts. After more food and relaxing, Diana's parents went to bed and the four of us spent the night reminiscing and talking about life. Then we put on a movie and passed out.

We woke up late on the morning we had to leave. Go figure, considering we (at least Steve and I) were up until 3 or so and we had to leave by 7. But we got ourselves together, ate our last Romanian meal, said goodbye to Diana's mom, and headed out. Diana's dad drove us back to Arad where we got a car to take us to the airport in Budapest. We made our final goodbyes and took the several hour car ride. We got to the airport, boarded our plane, and were off. Two and a half hours later we were back in London, waiting for our next flight. Finally, we were over the Atlantic and then, back in Newark. My mom picked us up and took us to her house where Conner (my pick-up) was waiting. We drove back to Binghamton with a brief stop in Scranton for food (who knew, eating crazy amounts of meals all week and without them we were finally hungry). We ended up getting back to our apartments around 2 or 3am. It was a total of 26 hours of travel for us; all to leave a place we had grown to love so quickly and return to Binghamton, the fourth most depressing place to live in the U.S. (no, I'm not kidding, look it up).

I know I keep repeating this, but I can't help it: there really are no words to describe this trip. All I've managed to do here is give a relatively chronological account of events. But there are so many other things: the hospitality, the food, the experiences, the conversations, the knowledge, the serenity, the joy, the living, the history, the traditions, the scenery, the uniqueness, the weather, the reality, the people, the music, the driving, the stars, the memories, the infinite number of things I could continue to list here but won't. I think I came back from this trip a different person; not completely, maybe not even noticeably, but something in me is different from this trip, even if I can't exactly explain what it is to other people. All I know is that when I bought my plane ticket a month ago, I never in a million years would have expected this trip to be what it was. I feel so blessed to have been given this opportunity and I'm so glad that the group of people I went with worked so well together. We never fought (beyond the married couple bickering of Francis and Diana, but that's always happening) and I think we all came back much closer friends than we started. I can only hope my future travels are half of what I experienced in the past week. So here's to you Romania, for everything you gave to us and for the memories we will always share; Noroc!

Chapter 1: The Future

I’ve been very pensive lately. I’m not sure why exactly. I think it has to do with having the last week off (granted I spent 90% of it in bed with the flu). But I spent a good bit of time discussing the future and I’m now both excited and nervous and so many other things that the only word I can use is pensive.

I think I’ll start out with the one future event that I am completely sure of how I feel about it. I am going to Romania in just over two weeks. I booked my flight yesterday and I am so excited. My friend grew up there and we have been discussing the possibility of going to visit her family and it has finally come to fruition courtesy of travelzoo’s cheap flights. In a last minute decision, a few other friends decided to come as well; so now there are a total of four of us going for a week. I have never been to Eastern Europe and I am going to hit at least two countries while I am there (we are flying into Hungary and visiting that area as well as spending time in Romania). We will have a fluent tour guide, a free place to stay, and so many good times that I just can’t wait. My desire for travel is always looming and while I’ve been lucky enough to do a decent bit of traveling so far these past twelve months, I haven’t been out of the country for several years. I realize that this sounds like a really snobby, yuppie comment but I’ve said it many times before: travel is my biggest passion. The fact that I can escape school for a week and go traveling to new and exciting places with natives is so thrilling it’s beyond describable to me. I’ve had this feeling in my chest when it comes to traveling for most of my life and I have still not found a coherent way to describe it. I’m sure you’ll catch scattered attempts in this blog to describe this feeling as time passes but I can guarantee I’ll never do it justice.

Beyond my impending trip to Romania, the next future event I suppose I can talk about is moving to New Orleans. I spent maybe 36 hours in nola during our road trip this summer and even then I was talking to people about moving there someday. When I went back on my birthday I solidified that idea to myself and started telling people that I wanted to move there when it was feasible. Feasible is approximately one year from now. Whoa. My initial reaction is to be so excited that I can finally start living a life fully my own. No more following a path more or less laid out for me, no more living where I have been more or less told to be, but really choosing my own life path. Where I want to go, what I want to do, no one around to fall back on or bail me out. That’s amazing! I’m mostly independent as it is but this is a whole new level of independence that I have been craving. Recently, and very unfortunately in terms of productivity for school things, I have been looking at real estate in the nola area. I want a good idea of what is available so that I can take a few trips down there, look at places to live, and start making deals to set everything up. The thing that has now started making me nervous is the location of New Orleans within the US. I’m not an idiot or naïve; I realize where hurricanes are and recognize the devastation that has been left behind from Katrina simply because of the geography of nola. While looking at this real estate however, I have had my first realizations of the reality of nature in that area. I’m not saying this is a deterrent for me to go; it just makes me a bit more nervous than I originally was. It’s hard coming to grips with all of the natural differences/dangers when you’re on an independence streak and just want to break out on your own. Like I said, not a full deterrent by any means, it just leaves a lingering nervousness where it used to be fully excitement. Something interesting however, is that I’ve talked to my dad briefly about some of these things and he actually was supportive and discussed options with me. He talked to me like this was a real possibility and gave me adult advice; it made me feel like a mature adult, a real “grown up;” and while my dad has always treated me like an adult, there was something different about this, and it made me feel really good about the entire situation. So while there is definitely way more excitement brewing in me about this than nervousness, the reality of the situation has definitely come out of the rose colored glasses I had unknowingly been wearing.

I had a few other things I wanted to talk about in this entry but it is already decently long, so I think I will save them for subsequent entries. I also feel like I haven’t really described things well in this entry and that I’ve been talking in circles. It doesn’t help that I’ve been writing while talking to people as well as having started and stopped writing several times before I finally got to this point. Regardless, I guess the main point here is just to convey my excitement for future events as well as to bring up the reality that is bearing down on me about the future. I promise my next entry will be more coherent and straightforward. Adieu!

Sunt incantata!

A Flashback: Nola

My birthday passed in January and this year was particularly awesome. After a month long roadtrip during the summer, I discovered that my favorite U.S. city was New Orleans. So, when I learned that there was going to be a book-release party (the final book in a series I have been following for five or six years), on my birthday, in New Orleans, it seemed like fate and I decided I was going to go. This was my first trip completely on my own, not meeting up with family when I landed, and I was excited for the ensuing adventure.

I spent the nights leading up to my departure rereading the four previous books so I would be reminded of all the subtle nuances within the plot. I "got up" at 3am to get ready to leave for the airport. "Getting up" in reality was setting down the book I was rereading because there was no sleep to be had that night. I was picked up by a friend, made the long drive to JFK, which is much nicer at that time of morning while it's still dark, I might add. I made my way through the airport, found my gate, boarded my plane and settled in for the flight. I am pretty sure the flight was full--besides the two other seats in my row; a great start. I did a little more reading and managed to sleep a little before touching down in Louisiana. I got a cab and was dropped off at the edge of the French Quarter; a video camera in hand and a bag on my back was all I needed and I was thrilled.

I spent the day exploring the quarter. Got a Po' Boy for lunch, bought a few souvenirs, relaxed in Jackson Square, and just basked in the vibe that is New Orleans. I was finally able to check into my hotel that afternoon where I rested up before heading out for a quick dinner and then a ghost and vampire tour. The tour was at night and our guide, the self-proclaimed "Scary Mary" was, well, a very un-scary old lady who took frequent swigs from a flask that none of us could tell quite where it

materialized from. But the tour was fun and showed another side of the Quarter than I hadn't seen; and if nothing else, I learned a lot of interesting history about the city. I had my first beignets from Cafe du Monde that night, and was more-than-pleasantly surprised to find that basically, a beignet is funnel cake in a different shape. Fantastic.

After finally having some time to sleep, I got up early and wandered to a cafe near the Mississippi River. I sat at the bar, chatting with Murry, the bartender, who was a Pittsburg-native and enjoyed telling me things I should see while I sympathized with him over the demanding servers he worked with. I spent my time enjoying the local band playing in the corner, people-watching, and chatting with people who were curious about all of the patches on my bag. I finally left and headed to Jackson Square where the first day's festivities were to start. The author had arranged a few activities for those who were coming to the release; and day one was a scavenger hunt through the Quarter. We were put into teams of ten. The ladies on my team and myself had a great time running through the streets trying to find the answers to our clues before our time was up. We didn't win, but considering our members came from Alabama, Northern Louisiana, Washington State, Pennsylvania, New York, Michigan, and a few other places, we think we did great; especially since the winning team had two nola locals in it. The whole point was for us to bond anyway and we certainly did that. We went out for dinner at Acme Oyster House, then wandered to the hotel where the release and signing was to occur to check everything out and hang out a bit longer. After several hours of enjoying our group's company, we parted ways for the evening. One of my group-mates was my age, and at midnight, she and I went out because I had just officially turned 23. We hung around on Bourbon Street with some of the others from the book group, and ultimately found our way to a club and enjoyed dancing until we were too tired to stay. We headed back to our hotels (making sure we each got back safe) and finally slept.

The next morning I was thrilled: my birthday! In nola! (For anyone who doesn't get the "nola" thing, it's just an acronym for New Orleans, LA). I got up and headed to Cafe du Monde. The ladies from my group had decided to have breakfast together (I told you we bonded quick). I actually had a reservation to eat at The Court of Two Sisters, a famous restaurant in the area, so I saw them for a few minutes before going my own way. My birthday breakfast was absolutely prefect. It was a buffet and my server was so excited to show me all of the things I had to try and what to mix how to eat it. Everything was great. I finally has some real southern grits! After I had eaten so much that I couldn't fit anything else, he came out with a piece of cake with a candle in it and had the band sing a nola version of "happy birthday" to me. Amazing. When I finally left there, a huge grin on my face, I met back up with the ladies and we spent a few hours shopping in the open markets, chatting, and enjoying the glorious warm weather (I was walking around in a t-shirt, knowing there was several inches of snow back home). After laying in some grass in Jackson Square, and finally finishing rereading all of the previous books, we made our way to the hotel for the book release. The line was crazy--but I blame this on the setup. We were on the second floor of the hotel; the signing room was at the end of the hall, but the rest of the hall was a normal floor--meaning rooms everywhere and very little space. The line wound its way up one

side of the hall, down the other, and wrapped back up the middle. This doesn't even count for all the people that took one look at the line and left to come back later. Two and a half hours later I finally had the book in my hands. Now the race was on: read all 600 pages before the Q and A section at noon the next day. Ready? Go!

I think I ultimately slept for an hour and a half; and I still was 150 pages shy of finishing. I got to the Q and A at noon the next day and had a blast. I was talking to this one woman who was an English professor at a university up north (although I can't remember where anymore) and we chatted about the classes I teach and other things and it was really cool. The author answered all (well most-there were some things she couldn't say or she'd ruin future books) of our questions and I just couldn't help but love the community within the room. Most of the people didn't know each other but everyone had bonded through the journey that MacKayla "Mac" Lane, the main character, had faced through these five books. Her trials, pains, joys, doubts, fears, and achievements brought people from all over the country together; I love that about good books, it's like there's some kind of magic within the pages. It pulls you in; a new world full of possibilities. After the Q and A, the man who narrates the audio books (and is apparently well know/has won awards for doing so) read us a passage from the book which was great; it was really cool watching him take on the character and make it his own. Then there was a raffle and prizes given; and just like that, it was over. I left the hotel a little sad. The excitement and anticipation and everything was all in the past now. But I still had a few hours left and I was going to make the most of them. I spent the last hours of daylight lying in the Square and reading those last 150 pages. Then I finished buying gifts for people back home and grabbed some dinner to go. I went up to the edge of the Mississippi and ate. The stars were beautiful. There was a warm breeze on my face as I watched the boats come and go through the water and listened to the sounds of people and Jazz wafting through the streets at my back. I think I sat there for hours. I didn't want to leave. I knew the moment I went back to my hotel that was it. I would

get up in the morning, catch a plane, and be gone. So I sat. And sat. And sat. There is something calm and peaceful about the mixture of all those sounds all around you. It felt like another world. When I had finally said goodbye to the Crescent City, I made my final walk through the Quarter, heading to my hotel. I packed up my things and crawled into bed.

The next morning went so fast. I was up, checked out, in a cab, at the airport, and on a plane. I remember each moment distinctively; but they came and went in the snap of a finger. Goodbye nola. It was an amazing adventure and reading the chronological events here will never do justice to what the experience was like. I tell people all the time that there is just a "vibe" about the city that I love so much, and I really don't know how else to explain it. There's just a deep-rooted feeling of peace, excitement, anticipation, and adventure all wrapped up in that place for me. There's a history and a culture that will not be ignored; it seeps into your pores. The people are so friendly, nothing like the northeast. Even this doesn't do justice to the city; it's barely even a start. But I will get back there someday; and when that finally happens I will take another shot at explaining the magic that is New Orleans.

Part I: The Backstory.

For anyone who knows me personally, you know I have several blogs which hold several unique purposes. This is no different. The plan here is just to pass along things that are going on in my life and a little bit of explaining what goes on in my head (a scary thought I know, which is why it's only a "little bit"). I'm hoping to bring together some of the more exciting aspects of my life (travel and adventure) with the mundane yet necessary (and at times exciting in a nerdy sort of way) school and work things. I like to write so not only is this good practice, but I like to put my own artistic expression on things to show people how I see them. I make no guarantees on how often I'll post here. I'd like to whenever the mood strikes, yet the chaos of life will distract me I'm sure. So for anyone out there who cares enough to stalk me (become an official "follower" of my blog if you do-I'll feel good about myself, haha) my apologies in advance for the tireless hours you will waste waiting for a post from me that may never come--note the sarcastic tone.

For anyone who may not know me and stumbles upon this online here's the short version of my life (assuming I can actually tell any story in a "short" version--oh, you'll learn dear reader, just wait...) which I'm sure I will elaborate on parts of from time to time as things come up in future posts. I am currently 23 years old and in my second year of graduate school for my PhD in political science. The ultimate goal is to be a college professor. I should say, the real ultimate goal is travel; becoming a professor is just a means to the end (but one which I will enjoy in the process). That being said, travel is my biggest passion and I will go anywhere I have the chance. New Orleans is my favorite place in the U.S. and I plan to live there when school finally sets me free. I'm finally getting back into athletics like I used to be and it makes me a much happier person on so many levels. I have a B.A. in political science and French. I've been to a total of three continents (one of which is North America), eight countries (U.S. included), and (I think) 39 states. The goal: go everywhere. I realize the improbabilities (such as Antarctica, etc) but I'm still going to try to get to as many places as I can. I started going to church regularly when I was 17 and have a strong faith in Jesus Christ. My life has never been the same since I allowed Him to come into my life and He makes even the little things have meaning. I'm very open minded. Some people may not believe that after my previous declaration, but here's my advice on that: (and I say this from a political mind frame considering it's my field of study) whether you're a liberal or conservative you always hear about the "crazy extremists" on your side and the opposing. I'm willing to bet that you're annoyed that the general view of your party is based on those extremists and/or you're not sure why those extremists seem to be the most common portrayal when you're sure most people are far more moderate. Media exaggerates. War sells; peace doesn't. Basically, don't believe everything you hear. The "crazies" are not the majority. And not all people of true faith are judgmental and close-minded. So, the one request I make here is for anyone who comes upon this to show respect to me as I will to you and come here with an open mind. I welcome any and all comments or questions about anything I post, as long as you interact respectfully. Backtracking slightly, you may be wondering why I italicized "true faith" a few sentences earlier. This is a topic for a much longer post, but the basic gist is that there is a big difference between "religion" and "faith" and the world is full of hypocrites. Again, I stress not to judge a group of people by their outliers. I am currently working on campus teaching freshmen level writing courses as well as working as a server in a restaurant on the weekends. Yes, (un?)fortunate soul who stumbled here, this is the short version, and it's not even the tip of the iceberg; but, I won't go on. I think this is enough to get a feel for this author as a person so what follows may be a bit more comprehensible.

So here goes nothing: a new blog, soon to be full of random musings, pointless tales, rants, adventures, boredom, excitement, and so many other things. Good luck attempting to follow my thought patterns; I hope to hear from you as you read! Enjoy!