Ah, spring.

I’m spoiled rotten.

As I drove home from class earlier this week, I spotted daffodils growing alongside a nearby fence. I sported a wide grin that lasted as I drove the final couple of blocks home and climbed the stairs to my apartment.

I'm in love!

The next day, I noticed that my entire “neighborhood” (if you will) was covered in flowers. Daffodils had been planted in several locations, pansies were abundant and various other blooms popped up at random.

Isn't it charming?

Spring has come to Alabama. I’m thrilled. ๐Ÿ˜€

But wait – the story gets better! I went with a couple of guys to pick up my roommate from the airport last night. She had promised me some sort of surprise from California. All I knew was that it was fragile, so when she handed me a Starbucks bag, I was kind of confused.

“Open it,” she urged.

I pushed back the paper to find five bunches of daffodils. ๐Ÿ˜€ She’d purchased them that morning and carried them across the nation for me. How did I get such a great friend?!

Following some crazy rain dancing in the parking lot, I divided the flowers into a variety of vases. They’re now scattered about our apartment, and I beam whenever they catch my eye. The bunch that has opened the most so far is in my bedroom. ๐Ÿ™‚

Morning beauties

Oh, but you thought my flower-inspired ramblings ended there? No sir!

I took a walk to the mailbox a few minutes ago, because what I had to send wouldn’t fit in ours. Whoever thought I should have a digital camera just caused the world tons of trouble. (Thanks, Mom!) I’m sure that passers-by found me a bit strange as I sat in the road and on the sidewalk, capturing images of these flowers to bring smiles in days yet to come.

Ah… spring.

Sunshine

Nature, not nurture

Organization is a trait that I developed in rebellion to my family, not one that was inherited. As such, I wasn’t surprised when my 11 year old brother announced that he had lost the Starbucks card I sent him for his birthday. It’s family tradition!

Though his birthday was over two months ago, we were able to celebrate once again when he cleaned his room this evening. After my parents were satisfied with his efforts, I coaxed him into pulling on a pair of “long pants” and we climbed into the car. (I chose to overlook the fact that the gray fleece pants didn’t match his blue and orange plaid button down. He was clothed, at least.)

My father, youngest sister and I comprise the best musical taste in the family, I’m afraid. After Chad loudly protested the Dave Matthews Band selection that was trickling through my speakers, he proceeded to fill me in on all of the details of Pokemon that I’ve been missing. (Thank God for little brothers – what would I do without a detailed explanation of all of Pikachu’s opponents and compadres?)

I was offered a brief respite when my telephone jangled its cheerful funk tune. A cherished friend kept me company as I parked the car and followed my brother into the coffee shop. I attempted to update said friend on my past week’s events, but juggling that conversation, answering my brother’s questions and ordering my own drink proved difficult. The phone conversation came to an end after only twelve minutes with promise of more to follow. Chad and I settled into a table and opened our books before us. (This is a family trait I’ve gathered – we have bad habits of carrying reading material most everywhere!)

I didn’t get far in my book, but I did learn more than I could care to know about the Pokemon game guide Chad was reading. When he was ready to leave, we carried our books and drinks back to my car. At his insistence, I turned off the radio so we could sing Christmas carols. The four children of our family have been cursed with less than spectacular voices, but we belted out “Jingle Bells” acapella, just the same.

All that to say that after a whirlwind semester, my life is slowing down. The past four months have been filled with emotions and homework, with new friends and continued relationships. I’m always “growing up,” continually changing. Though I’m finally on break, I expect that to continue. ๐Ÿ™‚ More tales to follow in the days that come…

Holiday surprises

A glass of wine as I unwind… laughter and bathroom humor around Thanksgiving dinner… a mini shopping spree with Mom… an empty spot at the dinner table… 21 pages of history on my laptop… and an email announcing a professor’s death… a heart to heart with Dad… watching my brother play video games… running into old classmates from high school… Thanksgiving isn’t always what you’d expect it to be.

Be careful with me – Iโ€™m sensitive, and Iโ€™d like to stay that way

You wanna talk defense mechanisms? I’ve got ’em.

I like to think that I’ve progressed quite a bit in recent years, but I know they’re still there. It still doesn’t take much to rouse them.

For example, if I’m feeling insecure, you better watch out. I’m likely to turn sarcastic and perhaps even more competitive than usual in an effort to protect myself. If I’m afraid that you’re going to blow me off, I’ll probably put you in your place before you get the chance.

I was reminded of this particular idiosyncracy earlier this week. I don’t know why, but sometimes I talk a big talk. I’m little miss trash talker during the football season (and frequently out of season!) You better watch what you say about Alabama or Florida State football around me, because I’m not going to take it lying down.

Still, sometimes I grow tired of this little charade. Scrappy though I may be, I’m a girl. I hope never to be “just one of the guys,” though that’s a fear I harbor when it comes to talking ball with the boys.

Football, therefore, can pull out those defenses I still harbor. I don’t like to be wrong, and I don’t like to be out talked in a mud slinging session. I should bow out gracefully like the little girl I still am. Instead, I’ll work my feminine wiles or my football knowledge for all they’re worth (or worse still, a deadly combination of the two!)

I’m a mish-mash of idiosyncracies. Some find that lovable; others find it annoying. Take your pick.

Memories #3

(Inspired in part by Heather’s post of the day – which I highly recommend you read, by the way.)

Top Ten College Memories: Memory #10

We sat around the dining room table, our formal attire a humorous juxtaposition to our bare feet and plans to spend an evening in. These are the evenings a young woman remembers – applying make up and curling hair alongside three roommates ensures a good time, regardless of the occassion. Paula, Alison, and I had selected gowns that we felt were appropriate for the evening’s activities. Not one to be left out, Heather donned similar attire. As the sun set over our forested neighborhood, we worked together, both in getting dolled up and in the kitchen.

We solved the corn chowder problem (too runny? add flour!) just before our guests began to arrive. Four gentlemen joined us, decked out in an array of garments ranging from a run-of-the-mill suit and tie to an ascot (with a cane as an additional accessory) to a turban. This colorful cast of characters sat down to dine at the same dining room table that had hosted countless bottles of make up moments before.

Breaking bread with brothers and sisters is always a treat, but the fun truly began as the eight of us moved into the living room. It was there that we ceased to be CJ, Heather, Paula, Alison, Philip, Jesse, Andy, and Scott. We resumed new roles for the next hour, assigned to us from a cardboard box bearing the name “Alfred Hitchcock” and the promise of a mysterious night of fun. Andy – or should I say, Dr. Lees – narrated as Catherine and Mary (played by Paula and I) were eliminated from the game by a murderous Brit. We victims proved to be the only ones able to successfully solve the case (Heather, as the bitter midwife, killed us off in a jealous rage).

The laughter continued in a rousing game of Psychiatrist. When the girls acted as our cat Emma and the boys as our dog Tessa in one round, Heather dissolved into laughter. Our impressions of the animals were apparently so good that she guessed immediately who we were. (Philip was on all fours beside me at the sliding glass door. Confusion led him to playing the part of Emma, though it wasn’t his assigned role. Our interplay was still so convincing that it led to Heather’s accurate guess.)

My ability to laugh at myself was tested in a later round. ๐Ÿ™‚ All seven “actors” were assigned the role of imitating yours truly. The noise in that room nearly reached a level that only Tessa could detect as everyone imitated me in their best shrill voices. I laughed so hard that I could barely stay in character – and I am me!

Later, we sat around the television while Hitchcock’s Rear Window played. The dark room and the comfortable atmosphere lulled most of us to sleep while the video quietly rolled on. Truly, my friends, these are days to remember.

Let the phone ring, letโ€™s go back to sleep

As reported to a friend via email half an hour ago…

If I were to look in the mirror right now, I’d see a face still surrounded by bedhead. My unmade bed is covered with roughly thirty articles detailing the contributions of weblogs to journalism and thoughts on media ownership. A plastic cup, empty save for the ring of OJ that graces its bottom, sits on my nightstand. A pile of highlighted and otherwise marked up articles is growing beside my bed. This is my Tuesday morning. (It’s a beautiful world.)

Friends come in the least-expected forms

I miss having regular conversations with Heather, who I consider one of my very best friends. Now that we both have cable modems, we keep in touch fairly regularly in spite of the five hundred miles between us. I love reading her blog to see what random thoughts are on her mind, but it’s only a weak substitute for the late night conversations (and early morning conversations, and over-BBQ-at-Sonny’s conversations, and in-front-of-the-TV conversations, and driving-in-the-little-red-pickup conversations…) we used to have so often.

Hebs is just one example of the friendships that play such an important role in my life – although she’s surely one of the best examples. I’ve always counted the people who are close to me among my greatest blessings, sometimes to a fault. I’m a perfectionist, you must know. Growing up, I also demanded that same perfection out of my friends, and I was let down when they (inevitably) failed. When Christ got ahold of my life, I found that I could rely on Him for that. Subsequently, my friendships have radically changed.

Those friends come from unexpected places. Heather and I lived across the hall from one another in the dorm at FSU. God is good – had we met in high school, we may never have become the friends we are today. ๐Ÿ™‚ (Heather was a basketball player and I was a cheerleader – if that doesn’t say it all, you know nothing about our high schools. ๐Ÿ˜‰ ) Alison is a vegan and a Gator fan. Jesse is a political enthusiast. Andy knows everyone on campus and is a laugh a minute. Sarah is a year and a half younger than me and from Virginia. Chrissy is a drama queen in Texas.

Wait a minute – how did those last two get in there? I’ve never lived in Virginia or Texas… in fact, I’ve spent no more than one week combined in those two states!

That’s the surprise, my friends. I’ve crossed into territory I never expected to grace. I have internet friends.

When my sister started lurking in an IRC chat room that centered around Lois & Clark in the mid-nineties, I teased her mercilessly. When my parents allowed her to fly to Colorado to meet a friend from this chatroom, I questioned their parental judgment. When I decided to live with a girl I met on the internet, I realized I owed Cristin an apology.

What my barely-younger sister learned in seventh grade, I have discovered post-college: not everyone on the internet is scary. This has become yet another place where I’ve formed unlikely friendships.

Had you told me ten months ago that I would have as many of these long-distance friendships as I do, I would’ve run in the other direction. When I first stumbled across the site that did it to me, I was looking for lyrics to a Caedmon’s Call song. I spotted the message board that the site hosted and poked around a bit, but refrained from posting. Everyone seemed to already know one another, and the conversations were just too much to jump into. (Little did I know!)

A month or two later, I came across the board again. I had moved to Jacksonville and needed a new hobby or two to keep me occupied. The board had recently crashed and restarted, so I jumped into the fray. I posted under a pseudonym, “Jeanie”, and I freaked out the first time someone asked if they could call me. (You people are weird, I thought.)

But little by little, I found these people to be trustworthy. After running into a couple of posters at a concert, I decided it would be okay to go to one of the “fan club” get togethers.

Slowly, those friendships grew to the point where I realized I was a part of a community of believers… on the internet. It’s not about the “fan club” where we met, but instead about the friendships that have developed. Nothing can replace “real life” friendships – it’s vital to have people in your daily life who hold you accountable and point you toward the Lord. But these friendships have been not only a supplement, they’ve been a blessing.

I hesitate to call many of these people “internet friends” anymore. Our friendships have thrived after meeting face-to-face, even though the world wide web if where they found their start. If I never signed on to that message board again, there are at least a handful of friends who would continue to IM me and ask what is happening in my life, who would e-mail me about their days, who would call to voice concerns about the struggles I’ve been having.

Apparently I’m not alone in these thoughts. Although I’ve been thinking about these words for over a week, it may seem that I’m merely jumping on the latest blogging bandwagon. On Oct. 14, David wrote, “It really is amazing how certain things can draw us together, even over great distances, and a true bond can be forged.” So true, my friend – so true.

(For what it’s worth, David is one of many people that I’ve met at these fan club meetings. Everyone who is listed on my links list is someone who I’ve hung out with, regardless of how I met them.)

Geof speculated on this subject after dinner at my apartment this weekend. His final words require little explanation: I would have never expected this, never sought this – but I’m certainly happy with the blessing.

I’ve never spoken to Tim, much less met him, but on Oct. 18 he made a point that I think is crucial.

The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that the whole internet thing is not that different to real life. Sometimes you meet people who pretend to be something they are not, and sometimes you get surprised by the fact that there is a lot more to them than you would have guessed. When it comes down to it, only time will tell. Secrets & idiosyncracies come out in the wash & people show their true colours sooner or later.

Indeed, these people have added themselves to my ever-growing circle of friends. Although they are still as far away (or farther) than “my girls” who have been so important to me over the past several years, knowing that there are that many more people who care is undeniably special. I don’t pretend to understand why God has provided me with so many long-distance friendships, but I am grateful nonetheless.


(Me and the “internet friend” who lives across the apartment from me – who knew that the web was the newest way to find a roommate?)