How to Catch a Chipmunk

When I was a kid, I caught chipmunks. No seriously.

Oh, I did normal stuff like play soccer and piano and hang out with my friends.

But when a friend came over to my house, sometimes we would catch chipmunks. Are you picturing a couple of third graders running around trying to catch the little critters with our hands? Nope, that didn't happen. We had much more—ahem—civilized methods.

If you want to catch a chipmunk, all you need is 6 things:

1. A chipmunk to catch

2. A trash can

3. A rope

4. An enthusiastic friend who doesn't think you're crazy

5. Bird seed

6. A high place

So I would put the trash can on its side and then place some bird seed near the bottom. Then I tied a rope to the handle of the trash can (it has to have a handle; I forgot to mention that) and brought the other end of the rope up to the high place and handed it to my friend. Thus, she could sit up there in the fort and yank the rope, instantly pulling the trash can upright once an unsuspecting chipmunk crawled inside in search of food.

Often the person holding the rope was too high to see inside the trash can, so I would sit somewhere across the way, perhaps on the porch, and watch the chipmunks like a hawk. I'd signal my friend to pull the rope when the chipmunk was in the right place.

I was a patient kid, at least sometimes. I'd sit there for quite some time if necessary, but usually it didn't take the chipmunks long to discover the treat in the bottom of the fallen trash can. Sometimes I would signal my friend too early, and the chipmunk would escape. But if I waited until the little creature was all the way at the end of the trash can, it worked every time.

What did we do with them once we caught them? Nothing, really. We'd just go look at them up close. But not too close though, because they'd usually be jumping like crazy trying to get out. They never could, but we didn't want to hurt them, so we'd always let them go in a few minutes. 

The ones we caught must not have been that traumatized, because sometimes they'd crawl right back into the trash can a few minutes later for another snack.

We also used to feed squirrels peanuts out the back door. They'd crawl up the screen door and knock on the window if we didn't respond fast enough. But that's an entirely different story. And so is that squirrel that was stuck in our chimney once. Yeah.

Twenty Candles?!

I'm turning 20 next month.

Not 13. Not 16. Not even 18.

I'm turning TWENTY. I can't believe it. I mean, where has the time gone?

20 is:
     - 1/5 of 100
     - halfway to 40
     - 10 years away from 30
     - one year away from 21

So, 20. That means I won't be a teenager anymore. Does that mean I have to stop riding my scooter, eating too much ice cream, and laughing at things no one else thinks are funny?

I certainly hope not.

When I hear someone say that they haven't seen their sibling or friend or whatever in 12 or 13 years, that seems crazy. That's over half of my life. I used to think a year was a REALLY long time. Now I have several friends that I really only get to hang out with twice per year, if that. The older you get, the faster time goes. The adults aren't lying when they say that; it's really true.

But anyway, I digress. The big two-oh birthday is coming up. Since I have a summer birthday, I have always been home or at least with family for my birthday. Every year. But this summer, I'm working as a camp counselor in western NY, so for the first time in 20 years, I won't be home for my own birthday.

So weird.

One of Those Days

They say that hindsight is 20/20 vision. So all those mistakes we've made? Basically, it's saying that we can easily look into the past and see all the dumb stuff we've done and think about what we should have done instead.

OR we could think of the past in a different way.

Think about something unpleasant that you had to go through. Maybe it still affects you; maybe you wish you never had to go through it. But that's just it. You got through it. You're done with whatever that is, and you have new things to deal with now.

My point is, whatever issues you're dealing with right now, eventually you'll conquer them. Who knows how it will happen, but eventually you'll get through it.

Picture yourself looking back at your current situation from days, months, years in the future. What do you see? Well, something in the past, something that doesn't seem nearly as daunting as it did while you were in the middle of it.

In other words (or pictures):

All of us have days like this every once in a while:

They also say that "Every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back."  So when you're running down the track, don't always worry about the hurdles you will have to jump. Occasionally look over your shoulder at how far you've come.

Or, just look at this picture:

Haha... isn't that great? You'd better be laughing... or... or... okay, I know I have a weird sense of humor, but I find this hilarious.

But seriously. Don't let the bad days get you down!

"In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us." —Romans 8:37

Blog-athon

Blogs are pretty cool. As I said in this post, I like reading people's blogs to get an idea of their perspectives on life. People have been blogging officially since approximately 1994. However, I've noticed a recent increase in the number of my friends who have created blogs.

One of my favorite blogs is Jane's. She's so creative, and her posts are always interesting.
I also like Sam's blog. It has some pretty sweet photography!
Also Laura's writing. She has some great stories and insights!
And Brian's blog. He's hilarious, and plus he's got some really good artwork.
Oh, and Amber's blog. She is witty and smart. I love her writing!

Some of my friends have recently started writing blogs, and I'm enjoying reading their posts!

Maria's Musings
Lambs Among Wolves

There are definitely others, but those are the ones that I'm thinking of right now. You should definitely read some of their stuff!

As a sidenote:

Isn't that adorable? Kittens are so cute.

Melted Barbies?

My sister Katie and I look out for each other. She's always had my best interest at heart, even when we were really young.

Of course, there were times when I deliberately took the bigger half of the Pop-Tart. (No, my mom would not let me eat whole Pop-Tarts until I was like 10.) There were times when Katie threw carrots at me. (Okay, she still does that on occasion.)

One day, back when my sister was 6 or 7, and I was 4 or 5, we were sitting at our little kiddie table in the kitchen eating lunch. I'm pretty sure we had sandwiches. I remember that there was a bag of Barbecue chips between us, and occasionally I'd reach my little hand into the bag and eat some chips.

Katie noticed something I didn't.

We were running out of chips.

Katie really liked Barbeque chips. She probably couldn't think of any other way to get me to stop eating them, so she asked me, "Do you know how they make these chips?"

(This conversation is probably not word-for-word since it happened a long time ago.)

I shook my head. I didn't know how they made Barbecue chips. But Katie knew lots of stuff. So I listened.

She leaned over the table and looked at me earnestly.

"Well, it makes sense. They're called BARBEcue chips. They use MELTED BARBIES to make them."

I believed her, and I was horrified. How could people do that!? What a terrible thing! "What? Well, I don't want to eat anymore of them!" I declared.

Katie finished the chips.

She did tell me later that she'd made up the whole melted-Barbie deal. After my initial shock, I thought it was pretty funny. I still can't believe I believed that. Fail.

What If

Awhile ago I wrote the post "What if No One Ever Slept?" I sometimes think about the world as it is now and wonder what it would be like if it were different.

What if your pets could talk to you?

What if people could fly?

What if some people were born with green, blue, or purple hair?

What if no one ever died?

What if you had a third arm?

What if cows took over the world?

What if time travel were possible?

What if you could fan a book's pages once and learn everything within it?

What if we could all read each other's minds?

What if no one ever aged past 25?

What if you were kidnapped by aliens?

What if you could yell loud enough for anyone in the world to hear you?

What if newborn babies could talk?

What if we could see more colors in the color spectrum?

What if teachers and doctors were paid as much as professional athletes?

Wut iff ev-ry werd wuz spelled like it sownds?

What if you could run forever without getting tired?

What if you never forgot anything?

What if no one ever lied?

What if the characters in a movie escaped into the real world?

What if nightmares came true?

What if we didn't have eyebrows?

WHAT IF?

"The Past is the Future With the Lights Turned On"

I want to you to imagine something with me for a moment. Just close your eyes and think. (Well, I suppose you don’t have to close your eyes, because then you wouldn’t be able to read this post.)

Imagine that one of your siblings asked if they could talk with you. For argument’s sake, you say “sure.” Then, said sibling proceeds to tell you, quite seriously, that he believes that, thinks he is required to, and plans on, saving the planet from an alien attack. 

Is it a younger sibling? Perhaps you would pat them on the head and say, “Of course you will.” Is it an older sibling? Your response might be more like: “The funny farm is just two towns over…”

But seriously. What if it happened for real? What if your sibling really was telling the truth, and you believed them? Let’s look at two extremes. You could excommunicate him. Team up against him with your other siblings and throw him out of the house. Or, you could commit yourself to his cause, ask what you can do to help, and tell others about it. Sounds more like a movie than real life. But things like this have happened.

Take Joseph for example. When he was young, he probably didn’t know that he was eventually going to save a myriad of people from the imminent famine of Egypt. He did, however, have several dreams which made him think that one day he would be a great ruler. 

He told his siblings. Not only were they upset, but they kidnapped him, threw him in a pit, told their father he was dead, and sold him into slavery. What supportive siblings!

What about Jesus of Nazareth? From the Bible, we can get the idea that his family supported his endeavors. Mary and Joseph aside, just think about Jesus’ siblings for a moment. The first one that comes to my mind is James, who was obviously only Jesus’ half-brother. The book of James, which [most believe that] Jesus’ half brother James wrote, begins with the words “James, a servant of God, and of the Lord Jesus Christ.” He is a servant of his own sibling? What a testimony! 

Jesus was presumably the oldest, so James grew up watching his older brother did. He had quite the example to follow. Did Jesus ever steal a cookie out of the cookie jar? Nope. Did He ever act disrespectfully towards Mary? Nope. Did He ever refuse to go to bed when he was supposed to? Of course not. If anyone would know that Jesus was perfect, it would be his very own sibling, who obviously decided to support His cause.

Joseph was sold into slavery, but eventually miraculously climbed the ladder and wound up as Pharaoh’s right hand man. By interpreting a dream, he saved countless people from starving in the coming seven year famine. He eventually forgave those who had persecuted him (his brothers) and was reunited with his father.

Jesus eventually died to forgive the sins of the whole world. Those who accept Him can avoid the imminent seven years of tribulation and instead be raptured into Heaven to spend eternity with God. As Jesus died, he cried out, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!” He forgave those who had murdered him. He was buried and rose from the dead three days later. He ascended into Heaven forty days after that and returned to his rightful place at the right hand of the King. He, too, was reunited with his Father.

Some people think of Joseph as the “Jesus of the Old Testament.” We can view it that way, but when I was thinking about it the other day, I thought of an entirely different lesson we can learn from it. About people.

Joseph’s father loved him, but his siblings hated him and betrayed him. Jesus’ earthly family loved Him, but his own people, the Israelites, rejected him. He was also betrayed by his “friend” Judas. Joseph and Jesus both had real friends and psuedo friends. But somehow, God’s plan still worked. It must have seemed horrible to the disciples when the heard of what Judas had done. It seemed to be his fault Jesus was killed! Perhaps God had a different way in mind for it to happen if Judas had not betrayed Jesus, but he did. And God’s plan still occurred. 

Joseph must have been horrified when his brothers turned on him. It must have seemed like the worst thing in the world. But when he became such a huge part of God’s plan and saved the lives of millions, I’m sure he wouldn’t change a moment of his past. Could God have accomplished this in another way? Sure He could have. He can do whatever He wants. But God works in myterious ways.

What is my point? My point is this: Family may not always be supportive. Friends may turn on you. God may seem to be far away. But there is always a light at the end of the tunnel—“Though the sorrow may last for the night, joy comes with the morning.” God’s plan will not be pushed aside. No matter what people say, just keep doing what is right.

A friend once said to me that “The past is just the future with the lights turned on.” And how true this is! Why can’t we see the future? Why doesn’t God ever just TELL us what He is doing? I think it is because he wants us to have faith in Him. If we could all just see the future, what kind of faith would that be? Faith is believing without seeing.

God is at work. No matter where you are in life, do not give up on God. He will never give up on you.

BMX, Broadway, and Blacksmiths

Everyone thinks they have the coolest friends.

I think my friends are the coolest, too, but they're also very talented. In fact, I have such a collection of talented friends it's kind of ridiculous.

One of my friends...

...speaks Chinese.

...created an app for Apple.

...is a blacksmith, good enough to be professional.

...speaks four languages.

...was a professional BMX competitor.

...is a published author.

...got a perfect score on the SAT.

...was a model.

...has been in a movie.

...has met the President (Okay, I guess that's not really a talent, but it's still cool.)

...can make a delicious meal out of four ingredients.

...got called back to broadway auditions.

Also, one of my best friend's cousins plays soccer for Manchester United. I feel like that should count.

And that's not all, either. But I'll have to brag about the rest of them in a different post since I can't think of any more right now.

What's my point? Well, do I have to have one? My friends are super awesome. That's all.

What Happened to Scooter Girl?

I miss my scooter.

I used to have one... but it died.

Okay, I'm not sure if you understand. I should start from the beginning. You see, I loved my scooter. For the first two thirds of my sophomore year, it was not uncommon for me to ride my scooter EVERYWHERE.

To class.

To chapel.

To meals.

Down hills.

Up hills.

Down ramps.

Inside buildings.

No seriously. I even took it up the elevator and then scootered down the hall to class.

Or, I used to anyway, but I'll get to that in a minute.

Lots of people called me Scooter Girl. I would go out for joy rides just past curfew when most people were back in the dorms.

I really like going down the big hill all the way from the gym to the chapel. Ordinarily it would take at least ten minutes to walk from one to the other... I can make it in two minutes on my scooter.

I really liked having it, because I got everywhere faster. I was seldom late.

Pretty much nothing stopped me from scootering:

Rain? I could scooter one-handed and hold an umbrella. I could scooter and drink coffee or eat ice cream. I could talk on the phone.

I couldn't really do any normal scooter tricks on it, and I didn't really try to because it was SO old. I got it at a yard sale when I was 8. I'm 19. So that means the thing is at least 11 years old. Pretty legit.

In spite of my scooter's age, I still let people ride it around occasionally, especially in the student center. Perfect strangers would come up to me acting like they'd never seen one before and ask if they could ride my scooter. Well, yes... sure. I just asked them not to do tricks, because I didn't want them to break it.

One time I saw a bunch of junior high school boys on campus riding around on their skateboards. I was scootering by, so I shouted, "Hey! What happened to your handle bars!?" They thought it was hilarious. Actually, I thought it was kind of lame, but I'm glad they found it entertaining.

So before my scooter's untimely death, the only thing that really stopped me from scootering was when someone decided to "borrow" it without asking. It became a joke between me and about forty people who thought it was absolutely hilarious to hide my scooter if I left it sitting around. LOTS of people took it at one time or another, hiding it behind doors, next to plants, behind desks, or simply scootering away on it.

One of my friends always put it in the elevator when I left it outside the cafeteria. One time he took it in the cafeteria with him.

This was probably one of the better scooter-stealing pranks:

In case you can't tell, it's Saran wrapped to the pole. Yeah. I laughed.

Sigh. Well, I guess I'd better get to it. On a day in March, a day that will live in infamy (even though I can't remember the exact date), I was riding my scooter up a hill, trying to go fast because I was late to class. I felt a *clunk* and I knew something was wrong. The *clunk* was followed by a *clink* and I knew something had fallen off my scooter.

Whatever it was, I couldn't find it. When I stopped, I picked up my scooter to assess the damages.

The back wheel fell off.

THE WHEEL FELL OFF.

I was very upset. I had lost one of the screws holding the wheel on (and I couldn't find it!), and despite my attempts to find something to replace it, I can't. I've had several people fix the scooter for me in the past, but this time I think it's beyond repair.

My scooter has seen its last days. Am I still Scooter Girl? I would like to think so. My birthday is coming up. Yes, yes. Before you even ask—I DID ask for a scooter for my 20th birthday.

And I shall be very disappointed if I don't get one.

The End of the World

In case you haven't heard, the world is actually ending on Saturday.

Awkward silence.

Okay, you don't actually believe that, do you? That a few men on earth could ascertain what the God of the universe is going to do?

Let's get one thing straight:

"But the day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone."
-Matthew 24:36

That says it all, really. To be honest, it COULD happen on Saturday. It will happen whenever God wants it to happen. But it my personal opinion—and believe me, I could be completely wrong—it won't happen Saturday, just because God will show His sovereignty once again by proving to Man that he cannot predict God's actions. But just a thought.

Be ready, people.

"For you yourselves know full well that the day of the Lord will come just like a thief in the night."
-1 Thessalonians 5:2

Prepare your hearts and get right with God. Many of us might imagine Jesus coming when we are old and gray, old enough to sit in rocking chairs by the window, watching the sky for His return. That may be the case, but when He returns, not EVERYONE will be old and gray. You just never know.

What would you do tomorrow, on Friday, if you knew that it was your last day to live on this earth?

Would you finally tell that person you know is not a Christian about Jesus? Would you go apologize to your estranged family? Would you finally tell the man or woman you have loved for years your true feelings? Would you find everyone you love and care about and spend as much time with them as you could? Would you yell His gospel in the streets?

There's a reason they say to live each day as if it were your last: because it could be.

Just be ready, my friends.

The Napkin Eater

"You're Becca—as in Becca the Napkin-eater?" Yes, my mom actually said that to my friend Becca when they met for the the first time a month or so ago.

That's because I had told my mom the napkin story, something that occurred months before but that had gone down in history.

Becca laughed good-naturedly and acknowledged that yes, she was the Napkin-eater. After this, I explained that my mom was among the people to whom I told this story.

You see, my friends like pranks. A LOT. I could tell you plenty of good ones involving lots of toilet paper, assailants, the police, and potatoes. But this one happened in the lunchroom when five or six of us were eating dinner with Becca.

It was a day for sandwiches. If Becca had not chosen a sandwich that day, she would have not made history the way she did on that unsuspecting day.

Also, it's important to note that recently there had been quite a prank battle between Becca and one of my other friends, Brian.

Becca left the table for a moment to go get more food or a drink or something, and she made the mistake of leaving her sandwich sitting on the table. I'm fairly certain the whole napkin thing was Brian's idea.

WHAT IF... we put a napkin in Becca's sandwich? Would she notice?

So we did it! We tore a napkin into a small enough square and then proceeded to squawk at Brian to hurry up and put the napkin square on the sandwich, because Becca was on her way back.

She didn't suspect a thing. We all laughed uncontrollably (I'm afraid I was most of the problem in that area), and we were very reluctant to explain what the problem was.

Still, Becca wasn't suspicious. My friends and I tried not to watch too closely as Becca reached for her sandwich.

I noticed with horror that the napkin was still kind of sticking out of the sandwich. She'd see it for sure.

But she didn't. She grabbed that sandwich and brought it to her mouth.

We waited.

I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.

And at last she took a bite. No surprise or concern etched itself on her face. In fact, it could have been the best sandwich in the world.

We all had huge smiles, and I burst into laughter again. But all of this did not alarm Becca. She calmly ate every bite of the sandwich, totally unaware that she'd just consumed a whole square of napkin.

We didn't tell her. Not until months later, anyway. It was one day at the cafeteria table, and someone spilled the beans. She wasn't mad.

The best part was when she demanded, "How many people knew that I ate a napkin before I knew!?"

More than 15 people raised their hands. And those were just the people at the table.

We sent packages of napkins to her in the college post office box for days.

And occasionally when my friends and I have a food party, I point to the napkins and say, "Becca snacks."

I love the fact that my friends are good sports.

This was legendary.

The Girl and the Dehydrated Grapes

Preschool was a slightly harrowing experience for me. I was only four, and I was expected to...what—stand in lines, put toys away properly, sit on the correct piece of masking tape on the floor, and get along with 15 or 16 other four-year-olds. This could be challenging at times.

However, everyone would agree that snack time was the best. Everyone sat—mostly quietly—at our impossibly small tables and chairs. Everyone got along. NO ONE could possibly be upset during snack time.

Or so I thought.

Every day during snack time this one little girl with chin-length dark brown hair and chestnut brown eyes would throw a fit. One day I made the mistake of sitting at her table, and I found out why she acted this way.

She opened her lunch box and pulled out a small box of Sun-Maid raisins, and her whole countenance fell. She slammed the box onto the table and stood up. She leaned over the table, looking at me imploringly. "I hate raisins!" she declared.

I looked at her questioningly. My expression said: 'Um, okay?'

Her expression became more desperate, and she repeated emphatically, as if I had not understood her the first time, "I. Hate. RAISINS!"

At this point I was a little frightened.

She continued. "Every day I open my lunch box. And what is it? RAISINS! Every time! I hate them!"

I was probably considering moving to another table, but the kid next to me had the presence of mind to say something logical. He probably went on to study differential equations. "If you hate them so much, why don't you just ask for something else?" he suggested matter-of-factly.

However, this girl was not reasonable. Her eyes grew wide, as if neither of us had even listened to her. "I hate raisins! I hate them! Every time it's RAISINS!"

I decided to assist the future math genius in his endeavors. "Well, it does make sense. How is your mom going to know you don't like raisins if you don't tell her? Maybe if you let her know, she'll give you something else... like crackers or something." I held up my own crackers, but then lowered then again, thinking better of it. I didn't want her getting any ideas.

"But I hate raisins!" she protested nonsensically. She groaned loudly and opened her red and yellow raisin box. She ate them begrudgingly, her face becoming more twisted with frustration with each consumed raisin.

I was just remembering this, the little girl and her dehydrated grapes. (That's all raisins really are you know.) But anyway, I digress. I was thinking about how she just shouted the same thing over and over again, refusing to listen to reason. It didn't matter how many times she told us she hated raisins; neither of us could do anything about it. In reality, she was just preaching to the choir.

I think sometimes that's the way we are with God. We worry, we're unhappy, we get frustrated... and what do we do? We just keep worrying and being unhappy and frustrated! If that little girl had talked to her mom, I'm sure her mom would have given her something else to eat for snack. If we talk to God about what's going on, He's going to give us an answer. It might be "wait," but at least it'll be an answer.

Besides, God wants us to talk to Him. That's what prayer is for.

"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you." — Matthew 7:7

The Aflack Salesman

This is a true story. About the first time I ever met a real, live Aflack insurance salesman.

I was in the office of a magazine in Lexington. I had an assignment that required me to observe a magazine office and its occupants for four consecutive hours. John, the executive editor, a few writers for the magazine, and I had spent the last two hours or so chatting about random things. Turns out John was from the same area of the country as I, and we had a lot in common. By the end of the day, he had me practicing my golf swing with his club.

I edited some articles because I had nothing better to do and because they asked me to. And then the business manager left. So I sat at her desk, which just happened to be the first thing one would see if he walked into the office.

There I sat, typing away on my laptop. I was wearing professional-looking clothes, so I probably looked like I worked there.

That's when he came into the office. He had brown hair, a nice-looking suit, and was probably about 30. He looked kind of nervous. Since I was the first person he saw, he approached my desk, swallowed, and spoke. He asked if this magazine would be interested in Aflack Insurance.

I opened my mouth to say that I was actually just visiting, and I was probably the wrong person to ask.

John interrupted with a wave of his hand. "No, no, he said. Go on—she makes all the decisions around here."

Bewildered, I glanced at John. I figured I might as well play along, so I sat back and looked at the salesman expectantly. He cleared his throat and began again, a short spiel about his company and why I should choose Aflack.

I said, "Well, I don't think I'll consider it unless you're willing to imitate the Aflack duck."

He looked taken aback. "What?"

I blinked. "The Aflack duck. I want you to imitate the Aflack duck."

The salesman looked at me for a moment to be certain I was serious. "Well, okay."

He cleared his throat. "Aflack," he said in a nasal-ish voice that carried a distinct similarity to the duck in all the Aflack commercials.

That won him an appreciative laugh. I clapped my hands together. "Well, that was pretty good!" I said.

John laughed, too. He looked at the salesman. "Thank you, but we're not interested."

I smiled. "Have a nice day!"

The salesman stared at me for a second, and I wondered if anything like this had ever happened to him before. He walked backward, finding the doorknob with his hand. "Uh, you, too! Goodbye!"

As soon as the door closed, John laughed hysterically. He thought it was great.

Several hours later, he asked if I'd like to intern at this magazine. I said I'd consider it.

What if No One Ever Slept?

What? What do I mean what if no one ever slept? That's crazy, right? Well, it's just a hypothetical question. I've stayed up all night. The whole day after I always have trouble thinking straight and often trip over things. But I'm not talking about people staying up all night. I'm talking about what if people didn't NEED to sleep.

Now, for argument's sake, let's just say it never got dark outside either. The sun shines 24/7. Would we still have days? Weeks? How would anyone tell time? No one would ever say "see you tomorrow" or "I'm too tired to talk to you" or "sleep on it." Would people plan things in hours? "I'll come over in 16 hours." That would be weird, wouldn't it?

Now, if people don't need to sleep, we can only assume that they also never get tired. So what? Would people who needed money simply work constantly and never go home? Would people work the 20 hour shift instead of the 8 or 12?

Children would be straight up crazy. Parents would likely go insane with no break. They'd be awake ALL the time, as energetic as ever. They'd want food all the time. Food is another point. People would eat SO MUCH food. The norm would probably jump from three meals per day to five or six, which would give people another reason to work longer hours.

There would be no dreams and no nightmares. No moon and no stars. Campfires wouldn't be the same. There'd be no sleepovers or camping. Vacations would be weird. If you didn't want to spend the money, what's the point of even finding a hotel? Just drive forever. People could drive all the way across the country without even stopping.

What about Christmas? Poor Santa Claus would have a lot of trouble getting down that chimney without anyone noticing. And don't even get me started about the tooth fairy!

So does that mean at college we'd just have lockers? Since no one would have to sleep, dorm rooms would not be necessary. Staying up late would never be an excuse for a poorly executed assignment. Being burned out, maybe, but never because of tiredness. Students would simply spend large portions of their time preparing for tests, and I wouldn't have to hear so much about my bad habits staying up late to study.

I just think people would do way more work in general if they never got tired. This may not be a bad thing. But in some perspectives, it would. No one would ever slow down. What would this do to families? Logically we think we'd have more time to spend together, right? But if no one ever got tired, who's to say that anyone would come home for dinner? And if they did, would it be at the same time? If it never got dark, there'd be no reason to come home at a specific time. In fact, why would people even bother with houses? Maybe with children it would be necessary to have someplace to stay. But a single person between the ages of 18-40? They could just go back and forth between work, the library, the mall, restaurants, outside, stores... You get the idea.

I'm not exactly the poster child for sleeping enough. In fact, I frequently get between 3-5 hours of sleep because I study/work/run around so much. But I'm thankful for nighttime, for sleep, for rest, for community. It's there for a reason. And even if I don't always take advantage of it, at least I appreciate it.

A Direction

What is the direction of this blog? Does it have to have one? I've never blogged before, so I'm not sure.

One of the things I most enjoy about reading people's writing is the insight it gives regarding their personality or views on life. Even reading a research paper can reveal a lot about a person. Why do I read people's research papers? Well, usually because I'm checking them for grammar mistakes. I love editing and grammar—call me a nerd or whatever, but I do. Anyway, I digress. I often read people's research papers, reflection papers, scripts, and books. I have several friends who write books and send them to me. Yes, I enjoy the piece of writing itself, but I also like seeing the writer's perspective on things.

That's one of the reasons I got into blogging. I love reading what people are up to and how they feel about things. Random little stories, musings, and rants? I like reading them all. Just remember—everything you write on the internet is there forever, and you never know who's reading it. After that brief infomercial, let's move on.

Anyway, that's kind of why I decided to just write a random post for this update. What will my writing about learning about other people from their writing reveal about me? I'm not sure.

This is weird to me, since I used to have a blog before most people had blogs at all. Except it wasn't on the computer, and no one read it except me. So it wasn't really a blog; it was a journal. Now when I go back and read it, it kind of cracks me up. The things that were important to me then hardly seem to matter now. I've nearly forgotten that I had to wear a uniform every day to school from 7-12th grade. That my report cards were off-white, and I usually took 7 classes and 3 or 4 tutorials, so there were 11 or 12 grades on the thing. That I had two best friends in 5th grade who were very different and didn't know each other. That I had awesome birthday parties. That my cats weren't always lazy—they used to eat cheese and chase animals and climb our Christmas tree.

That's why I'm not sure what I want to write in this blog. I called it dream chaser because 1. It sounds cool. 2. I chase dreams. 3. I miss dreams.

3? I miss dreams? Yes, I don't dream anymore. Most "older" people will tell you that, but this fact is strange to me because of the frequency with which I used to remember my dreams. They say that everyone dreams—I guess now I just don't remember them.

I count it as a blessing to some extent, though, because that also means I don't have nightmares, either. I can't even remember the last time I had a real nightmare, and when I was little, I used to wake up sweating and terrified three or four nights per week.

I have a twitter, too. The reason for that is much clearer. "Melissa: So tired. Finally going to bed. #5:30am." So I can keep track of how little sleep I get, right? No, not really. But everyone uses twitter for one of three reasons: 1. To update the world about what's going on in their lives every 4 seconds. 2. To complain about EVERYTHING. 3. To spy on people. Or some combination of the three.

So what is the direction of this blog? Well, I'm going to relate it to something media comm: the discover-as-you-go approach. Like the making of a documentary. We'll see where this takes me.

“The World Keeps on Turning”

When the world keeps turning, and you’re watching the colors blur by

And you’re trying stay standing but they tell you to fly—

Remember time is a burning candle rapidly burning the wick,

And opportunities will leave you standing if you fail to be quick.

Toes at the edge, maelstrom of whirling angry lights below...

Don’t look behind; if not forward, where will you go?

And a voice whispers “Jump, there’s not a moment to lose!”

By you just stand there, watching the colorful hues.

Scenes from your life are all about you, some you love,

Some you don’t remember; others you’re ashamed of.

People from the old days replay sad scenes from past years,

But they don’t know your eyes are filled with tears.

“I should have warned you… you were supposed to know!”

But your shouts prevent nothing and are lost in the flow.

These memories are like watching a movie scene…

Because your shouts will change nothing on the screen.

Your toes grip the side, and your stomach gives a lurch.

It’s possible to hold on longer, to stay on this perch.

All this time you’ve been watching the colors fly…

But you haven’t turned around, and you don’t know why.

You whip your head to the left and look behind,

And your eyes grow wide with the nothing that you find

It’s dark, and black, and dead, and cold.

It’s quiet, and nothing, and no one, and old.

It’s your past, and you can’t go back there.

You turn back around and break the stare.

The world keeps on turning, and the colors fly by

And everyone in the world keeps whispering: “Fly.”

Gripping your fists at your sides and closing your eyes

You’re still sure that to go forward would be your demise.

The colors don’t stop their swirling and whipping…

Your feet start pushing forward and your body’s tipping.

With a final burst of energy, you decide to leap,

And in a moment you fall downwards like a dream in sleep.

The world spins because you run against it, and that’s why

You never have to fall if you just decide to fly.

I Was Legend

Yesterday I felt like Will Smith. I took a walk around Asbury’s campus, and it was dead silent. I didn’t see anyone I knew, and everything was absolutely still. The weather seemed unconcerned with this fact; it was 75 degrees and sunny, the light breeze carrying leading me up one hill and down the next. I saw a rabbit wandering about, and I avoided several (flocks?) of hornets that blocked my path. I would have killed some of the hornets with my shoe, just for disturbing my journey, but I didn’t want to stop.

Last year I dreaded leaving Asbury for the summer, and the past few weeks haven't been any different. I'm that weird kid who doesn't really want summer to come. However, while I was walking, something was different. Asbury was like a motionless puppet or a television turned off. There were no people, because almost everyone had left to accomplish something different over the summer. Even the people here were nowhere to be found and were off working on something new. The people make Asbury come to life, and right then, the university was asleep.

I didn't want to wake the campus, so I didn't make a sound. It was a little eerie, actually. I saw a few birds and even a rabbit, and at one point I expected to see a flock of antelope or a pack of lions. I was glad that I wasn't really Will Smith, and zombies were not, in fact, going to fly ravenously out of CPO to devour me, before shrinking away from the light and back into the shadows.

I went back to my dwelling place, satisfied with my short journey. Yes, I'll miss Asbury and everyone who goes there. But it will wait for us to return. Asbury will wait for me for more adventures in the fall. But now it's time for other travels. Until then, Asbury.

What hath God wrought?

I’m long-winded. Often while I’m wandering along my merry way, I think of something to say that exceeds the number of allowed characters for a tweet or facebook status, but doesn’t really merit a note.

When I’m writing a facebook status, the little message pops up that says, “I’m sorry. You are simply unable to consolidate your verbage down a feasible number of words for a normal facebook status. Would you like to make your idle ramblings into a note?”

The answer is usually no. So here, my friends, is my attempt at a blog.

I’ll muse about coincidences, funny experiences, dreams, and anything interesting that comes to mind. They call me scooter girl, grammar Nazi, and one with ridiculous laugh. I am all of those things. And now I have a blog.