Time Flies?

Anna's been out of the U.S. for the entire semester with the Guatemala crosscultural. I feel like I haven't seen her in a long time, and I can't wait for her to return home. Yet, when I hear about the Middle East Cross Cultural, and that they are coming back in a week--the same thing, I barely think they have been gone at all. This may or may not have anything to do with the fact that I'm not emotionally close to anyone on that Cross Cultural, whereas I am close to Anna, Stacy, and somewhat to several others that are on the trip. So I guess that the time flies for those you don't think about.

Same thought, different people. There are several YES teams--Albania and Venezuela, I think--that are finishing up at the end of April. In fact, they will be debriefing with me when I enter training. Their time has flown. All of a sudden, the end of the semester is a week and a half away, and there is so much to show for it, but there is so much that is still shifting--still insecure--and I am shifting and insecure as well.
I think what I'm referring to are the different things going on this summer, and where I'm going to be with all of these, and if they are going to work out. One thought--I'm going to New York, and I'm over halfway funded. I know when I'm going into training, and I know when I'm arriving in New York, but I only have a little of an idea of what I will be doing. Also, I'm signed up to earn service learning credit hours for the three months I will be there.

The issue there is that I've been in communication with the woman in charge for almost the entire semester, and I feel like everything has been moving at snail speed, and I wish it was all clarified, and I knew which professor would be my mentor, and what type of reading I should be pursuing to satisfy that portion of the contract.
I've finally made a decision about my major, which makes life take a completely different path. I'm excited about this because suddenly there is a defined path with a street named "Grace --->" and I know which way to turn. I know that there is passion in this area. I know this because I could do these things for no money and be satisfied--I'm doing it now, paying for it.  This is like music for me. People are my other music, they challenge me to do different things, to try harder keys and progressions, and write different words. This is why I want to train in the field of Social Work. And I know this time is going to fly as well. Soon all of these classes are going to be satisfied, and I'm going to be shipped back to Washington D.C. for my senior practicum, and then onward, to another city, to do what God has glistened my life with. Love others.

We watched "The Count of Monte Cristo" after we got home from the game. I remember reading through the book--same title-- by Alexander Dumas, in eighth grade, and showing Casey the name of the author for his own entertainment. I remember reading it and loving it, though the Count chooses revenge--even over love and those begging for forgiveness. But while watching the movie, I also recalled how long it had been since I'd read the book. Five long years. Years of change, growth, Maturity. It's time to read "the Count" again.
It's interesting to me how we can become so enveloped into things we are interested in. They take our minds--imaginations-- and run with them, skipping through ideas, and dreams. The shiny facade of movies do that exactly. They stimulate our brains--but only to what we can follow within the story.
I'm a commenter. I think of things in the storyline that I find interesting, or funny, or relevant to something that it reminds me of, and I make it known. And I'm more likely to do it with someone that I know well. I've been reminded of this by Zach, and before, I actually wasn't aware that I was a commenter. It's something Dad does too--whenever he and Mom attend a church service that they are not involved in, he sits next to her, and during the sermon, he whispers his comments into her ear. It drives my mom crazy. So it's completely insane that I didn't know that I did this--unless it doesn't annoy Zach. Which I probably will end up asking him.. But I became aware of this tonight, while we were watching the movie, because Jess was sitting next to me, and she said, "Grace, if you whisper in my ear one more time.." Oops. Didn't mean to annoy you.  In relevance to what I've been talking about, this movie flew by, and before we knew it, it was ten to one, and I was still wide awake (probably due to the slight amount of mystery coffee that I added to my hot soy cocoa before I joined the movie clan).
Something to think about. I don't like wasting things, and of all of these, I hate wasting time. That being said, I hate the idea of missing out on things that are happening. For example, this summer, I'm not going to be able to work at Camp Luz. I'm not going to meet the new campers, whether Mini or Youth, or work with the new staff, and become a better facilitator. I'm going to miss it a lot, and miss the trusting deep friendships that occur only in that type of situation. But I also know that my time is not going to be wasted, and before I know it, I'm going to be leaving a new set of friends behind in NYC to come back to EMU, and stability and love. All of these things that I will also be leaving behind in NYC, and in D.C., and in Wauseon, and in Streetsboro. And eventually, EMU will be left behind. This too shall pass.
This time. And I don't want to waste it. Which brings me to my next point.
I see how some people are in need of a fix-a drug to make them open, or happy, or easy-to make their life worth living. But I don't--I can't stand the idea of being so wasted that you can't remember what happened. I can't stand the idea of spending so much money on drinks that you can't pay for the taxi home. I can't imagine being so drunk that you can't stand up straight or see where you are going. I've experienced fun with people--insane laughter, slap happy moments, and sleepless nights. And I remember them. Because I wanted to. And if these things are meant to happen, they will, and for me, I will try to make them remembered, because I don't want to have to worry that I'll ever do something I will regret.
I feel as if when I reach the age of twenty one, I will drink alcohol. But I will only do so if it is something I can enjoy. I hope that it will not become something social and something that I do to show how adventurous I am (this could be a weakness). I hope that I drink because I like the taste, and not for a buzz and a feeling. I hope that money I spend will be in moderation, as will the amount I consume.
I want to remember all that I've done and all that I've experienced. Time not remembered is time wasted, no matter what anyone tries to say.

I haven't stayed up this late, or this awake in a long time. I can finally say that I'm done with whatever illness ailed me, and that I am rather blessed to be filled with energy to do things with people. That time where I couldn't do anything because I was so tired was rather deteriorating to my mental state, and now I feel beautiful and happy, and I am really content. And now, I am going to church tomorrow. Thus I should sleep for a part of that, es verdad?

I'm going to tell it like it is.

I found a new way for my wacked up sleep schedule to deal with itself.
I'm knitting a blanket.
I watched Casino Royale.
But it really doesn't help that the homies are watching something on the TV like it's the afternoon.
My stomach would have shot me dead if it had a gun today. Not sure what the anger's all about, but it's been hustling my comfort for the past seven hours. Eating should be fun, not cramping my style.
I'm not too bad at beer pong.
Or making peanut butter brownies.
But really it's the company that matters, not the food (which was great) or the drinks (but some people just drink tea.)
Yesterday I picked up a cell phone off the sidewalk that Christa located and put it in a bowl of rice. Today I hooked it up to my charger (because I'm awesome, and I have an identical charger), and located a parent, texted them, and am going to give it back on Monday.
I sent a box of goodies to Africa today. I hope and pray that Fetsum taped the box enough that the goodies will make it to Senegal unscathed.
I hate my tummy. It feels like I'm getting the flu all over again.
Maybe I am.
And in that case, I shouldn't be around people, which I inevitably am.
It's 3:00AM. I should go to bed. I should also think about dumpster diving.
The reason I don't drink alcohol, besides the fact that I'm eighteen, is that I don't want to gain weight. I don't run or swim as much as some people. And I've seen what it does to some girls.
Another reason I didn't drink tonight is because those bottles of gin in the freezer are quite intimidating.
If I ever drink, I want it to be a good drink. Not some weird concoction that makes me want to throw up.
Whatever.
Yep.
Casino Royale.
Why is alcohol the reason for so many parties? I need some Tums. But that is because of the Unidentified Food Object that my stomach is holding a mutiny for. Not because of the peanut butter brownies that were made at one in the morning.
MaiTri was a great time for me, other than the stomach ache. I feel like I connect better everytime I'm there. Dang it for the metro closing at midnight and it being cold.
Jess thinks my Streetsboro Soccer shirt is a bit aggressive.

Because I know what I want

With college comes dean's list, work-study, all-nighters, and cafeteria food.

There's also beer, cigarettes, parties, boys, and cops. 

Don't forget that side.

I went to my first ever drinking party, my first weekend on campus. My girl Alisha was going with Marsha and Carina, and I decided to come and my dear roomie Andrea decided last minute as well.

We walked to a parking lot where we met some guys who showed us the way to the house the party was. It was pretty close to the campus. The people who lived in the house, for the most part, go to EMU.

There was jungle juice and and a keg of beer in the basement. We were offered whichever we wanted. I, being the person I am, asked if I could have water. And I did. I drank water the entire time I was there. It was fun playing Rummy with some of the guys and Alisha and Andrea, and also fun watching the game of beer pong. 

I saw some people I knew, and also some I didn't know.

There was one girl who was thin, and was easily drunk from what she had. She was just over friendly and smiling a lot. One of the guys that I met on the first day was there, and was having issues standing up, he was so drunk.

I got into an interesting discussion with two Chris's. The older Chris was trying to teach the younger Chris how to talk to girls. But the things that I heard from the older Chris's perspective were pretty accurate.

Boys are polite to girls even when they are drunk.

Except for the swearing. I always forget that when people are put in a completely different atmosphere than you first know them in, that they can be completely different. Thus, there was no problem for the girls that were with me to let it all out. 

With the guys drunk, it was just, "F--- this," and "F--- that!" 

But I am from Streetsboro, where people use that language sober. At least I think they're sober. 

Everyone freaked and ran out the back of the house around 11:45 because some cops stopped by. The girls bolted, and Andrea and I walked slowly away. Then we sat outside for five minutes or so. After that, we decided to walk back to campus. 

Finally, two of the guys from the party were back on campus, but still drunk and wanted to go back to the party, but wanted to be driven.

I volunteered to drive them. I drove the one guy's truck and then drove it back to campus. Even on the ride over, they were paranoid and goofy. Drunk.

I don't plan on drinking. I don't want to lose control of who I am around other people. It's important to me. I went to the party because it was a great social situation. Even though there was alcohol involved, I kept myself clear.