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Friday, August 22, 2008

My Thoughts on Love and Marriage and Other Trivial Things

This is something I wrote in an email, and thought I would share with you lovely people.

You know, the concept of arranged marriage has its high points. However, it all depends on how much you trust your parents. I trust my mom pretty well--she knows me, she knows what kind of person I am, and she believes that I deserve the best. To a certain degree, I don't trust myself. I'm really good at reading other people except when it comes to how they interact with me. Then I'm too trusting. I've told my triplet sister, Shelby, that she's picking out my husband for me.

But that's not the point. A person has to want to know the other person on a very deep level. I believe in being best friends with whoever you marry, because love does have its ups and downs. I adore the lovey dovey gooiness of novels myself, but the honest truth is that nobody is one hundred percent constant. When the love fades for a bit, the only thing keeping you in the marriage is the simple fact that you married your best friend. My parents divorced when I was eleven, and it had a profound impact on my life. I face dating and marriage very seriously, (I would never date anyone I couldn't see myself marrying) because I've determined two things.

A.) I will never marry anyone unless I get the fairy tale. No settling, no second bests. Full blown white horse.

B.) I will NEVER EVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES get a divorce, which means that that prince had better have a darn good sense of humor and a gentle heart for the days when he gets pissed off at me, which he will. Even fairy tales aren't perfect, and I know that I'm certainly no lady-fair-damsel-in-distress, as much as I'd like to kid myself into believing otherwise. I'm all too aware of my faults, and I don't expect the prince not to have some of his own. Hence the best friends part.But marriage is so much more than free sex and love and kisses--it's a uniting of souls. It's a blending of lives, for better or for worse. That's why I want to marry somebody who has seen me sick as a dog with a cold and dressed up to head out for dancing. THAT'S for better or for worse. I'll never have to put up a front or wear a mask in front of that person. They'll know me for me, and that's all I want.

My apologies for the rant. Just some things I've been thinking a lot about lately.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Back to School!

Hello, all you happy people!

Well, summer is officially over for the crowd over at Crichton College. You can probably hear the moaning in Ohio, *waves at Mrs. Sherry* but I ignore the moaning with which I do not participate. I was so glad to walk back into school and see my friends and my teachers and even those hated class schedules again! It feels good to have some order to my world, to know what I'm supposed to be doing and to feel in control of how I go about doing the things that I'm supposed to be doing.

Anyway, here are some updates from my neck of the woods:

1.) Mom got the job! We're all SO excited. She's terrified, of course, but that's just the normal terror that accompanies change. We really hope that this job will be everything we've always wanted for her. It's so exciting to see God's provision.

2.) Sad to say, my car decided to stop working on the first day of school. A new battery has been bought, but it still won't start. Pray it's just a bad battery lead, as my dear brother suspects. I can't afford anything more!

3.) This will come as a HUGE shock to you all, I'm sure, but I, Katie, am sheer evil at times. Yes, my friends, I admit my wickedness in this public place as a sign of my...um...regret.

You see, Shelby and I are being forced by time and the administration to take World Civilization 1. This is a freshman level class, which means several things. It means that the class is huge in the beginning and about a third of the size by the end because of all the people that have dropped/failed the class. It also means that the class has a lot of busy work, about which I am most certainly NOT excited. Still, it's the only "un-fun" class I'm taking this semester, so I had to bite the bullet and sign up. However, when the teacher had us all introduce ourselves, something became apparent very quickly.

The class, it seems, is full to the brim with jocks.

Let me lay this out on the table. I hate jocks. I feel absolutely no regret in admitting that jocks are very often the recipients of my utter disdain and loathing. I'm quite sure that there are some good, studious jocks out there that are just trying to pay for school. If you can play a sport and keep with your classes at the same time, more power to you! You have my respect. However, most jocks in the classroom are a nuisance at best and a pain in the as-terick at worst. They are content to float through the class and do the bare minimum of work while texting on their phones and bragging about their many conquests to people that could not be any less interested. They waste precious time.

This, obviously, is the age-old problem between nerds and jocks. I resent the fact that I bust my hiney in class and do all the work and come to all the classes and then the jocks get special treatment and make nearly the same grade I do when it all comes down to the end. As an example to show what Shelby and I were dealing with, I offer this little anecdote. We were asked by our professor to say what history classes we had taken. One baseball player stood up and made this highly intellectual statement: "Well, I took American and World history in high school. I think I took U.S. history, too."

I rest my case.

It was this disdain toward jocks, though, that caused my actions today. One of the jocks in class was being particularly obnoxious. He kept interrupting the teacher, shouting out comments, and trying to get all of the dancers' phone numbers. He, my friends, was country, loud, and irritating. Finally, he was regaling the class about why he does not wear undershirts because he's swollen. (?) It was at this point that my true nature reared its ugly head. Before I could think about it or stop it, I turned to him in front of the whole class and stated, "I thought it was your head that was swollen."

There was a deep, penetrating silence.

Then snorts of laughter. My friend Rachel was looking at me with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth. I decided then that it would be in my best interest to turn around and sit quietly like the good little nerd I was. The best part was that the jock didn't even get it! He said, "Oh, I wear like, uh, a size six, seven hat." Insert my rolling eyes here.

Hrumph. Served him right anyway.

Forgive me, O Lord, for my quick tongue. But I doubt even Jesus would have sat quietly in His seat while some guy talked about his swollen armpits.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

(Hi.)

I feel pathetically miserable for even typing all this, but I simply can't help myself. I'm just feeling a teense bit depressed at the moment. I really have no room to complain about absolutely anything, honestly. I have the most fabulous family anyone can ask for, I have more material possessions than I will ever deserve, I have teachers that I'm looking forward to seeing again in a few weeks, and I have a God that will NEVER let me fall. I don't forget any of this, truly, especially when I'm a teense bit depressed. I think I remember it more when I'm a teense bit depressed, because then I'm ashamed for being a teense bit depressed.

I just wish I had some semblance of control over anything at all.

Most of the time when I'm confronted with bad situations, I just stick my head in the sand and pretend ignorance. Sand in your ears really isn't so bad, honestly. Still, what I would really prefer is to know, for sure, that everything will be all right in the end. One side of me says that I'm twenty years old. I'm young, healthy, intelligent, and I have my whole life ahead of me. The other side is watching my mom struggle, the world crumble, and it seems like I can see my whole life stretched out before me like a lonely road.

I just wish I knew what was going to happen.

I just wish that I knew that this enormous desire to have a family, to be loved and love in return isn't going to be wasted.

I just wish that my mom could be happy and get all the things that she deserves to have.




I think I maybe need a hug.

I promise, the melodrama will be gone by tomorrow. There are just times when you have to write something out, and you want to write it where people will see. I love you people SO MUCH. You have absolutely no idea how much I'm grateful for your presences in my life. God has always blessed me with the people He places around me, so please remember that YOU are heaven sent.

And now that I'm despising myself for even writing this in the first place, I think I'm going to go clean house or something to just keep myself busy. Too bad that I've already done all the laundry.

Too funny not to share...

How To Install A Home Security System In The South ===================================================
1. Go to a secondhand store and buy a pair of men's used size 14-16 work boots.
2. Place them on your front porch, along with a copy of Guns and Ammo Magazine.
3. Put a few giant dog dishes next to the boots and magazines.
4. Leave a note on your door that reads: Hey Bubba, Me, Big Jim, Duke and Slim went for more ammunition.Back in an hour. Don't mess with the pit bulls - they attacked the mailman this morning and messed him up real bad. I don't think Killer took part in it but it was hard to tell from all the blood. Anyway, I locked all four of 'em in the house.
Better wait outside.
"Cooter"

Monday, August 4, 2008

Proclamation to the Troops

I ask all of my much beloved readers out there to please be in prayer for the Queen Mother. There are things going on in her life right now that reek of God's divine plan, which means that what's going on is abrupt and difficult, but also, regrettably, necessary. In between family and job issues, my most coolest of all mothers just needs two things right now: hugs and prayer. If you would be so kind, give her the first when you see her and the latter all the time. I don't understand how I was blessed enough to be born to my mom, but I know that I want to see her get the absolute best in life. She's been dealt crummy hands enough. "If two or more gather together and pray..." Please, everyone, pray with me that this most fabulous of women is given blessings beyond her wildest dreams and a peace that surpasses all understanding. You will have my eternal thanks for everything you do, as you already have my loyalty and respect for all that you have done in my family in the past.