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| It's a sad day, Xanga.
I've relocated.
My New Blog
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| Despite the plenty of years I've been practicing Christianity and sometimes going to church and even more rarely praying, I've come to the staggering conclusion that so-called experiences with God are hard to come by. Maybe they knock on my locked door often, but once I look through the peephole, I turn down Regina Spektor and convince myself that they're convinced that the now-silent room is empty.
Not that God is predictable or anything, but these days all I know about him is that he likes Wednesdays, which is advantageous for me because I do too. The presence of God seems to dissolve in the pews, but I can always count on him to be lying comfortably on the porch swing - feet up, back horizontal, a book open to page 242 but his eyes closed. There's a sliver in time where shirts deserve to be off and honesty demands attention and thunderstorms fail to disappoint. Sloppy sandwiches seem to go hand-in-hand with free, unbridled laughter, mugs of piping-hot tea with transparency, cozy blankets with dreaming about the possibilities of the unknown.
Wednesdays. A friendly neighborhood reminder that we all have a past, a present and a question mark with lines dying to be colored outside of by our rebellious, hopeful fingers. An indication that love still exists and that everyone has a story they're dying to get off their chest and that I'm dying to be understood. There's still hope. | | |
| In a few hours I will leave for the great city of Philadelphia, where I
will reunite with older sisters and old friends. I need to clear my
head.
For your entertainment (like the store), this happened at the Messiah
College Switchboard at approximately 12:40 pm on Friday, September 21,
2007.
Me: Messiah College, this is Jeff, how can I help you?
Lady: (stunned silence)
Me: Messiah College, this is Je-
Lady: (In an accent, maybe Russian) Do you have ze vires for ze teeth?
Me: Excuse me?
Lady: Ze vires for ze teeth, do you have them?
Me: The wires for the teeth?
Lady: Yes.
Me: This is Messiah College.
Lady: Oh.
Me:
Lady: So you no have ze vires for ze teeth.
Me: No, I'm afraid that we don't.
Lady: Why not?
Me: This is a college.
Lady: Oh! Where?
Me: We're located in central Pennsylvania.
Lady: I know.
Me: Oh, ok.
Lady: So, you no have ze vires for ze teeth?
Me: No.
Lady:
Me:
::click::
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| There's this girl at Messiah who, in her early twenties, consistently reminds me of my sister Lindsey when she was ten years old and playing dressup with tacky hats and ubiquitous denim. Part of me wonders if this stage of life is just a phase in Messiah girl's life, or if this is a continuous identity that she assumes daily. Sometimes I roll my eyes at the upright people who are regularly consistent and change infrequently, mostly because I'm jealous and think phrases like "be yourself" are not applicable to me.
In other news, you might be intrigued to know that I saw a beast with seven heads last night at Messiah (meaning that I thought that the transformer fire that turned a midnight sky a shade of sky blue and produced a miniature earthquake meant that the end times were here). Also, my last sister will be getting married this weekend, which means there will be much discussion over my virtually motionless romantic radar. I will also hug estranged family members and meet new ones, all of whom I will lie to when I tell them how much I miss them and how I will try to visit more often. | | |
| Chris, a childhood friend, died from brain cancer seven years ago. It's incredibly strange, because we were never best friends but he still haunts me in my dreams and reminds me to appreciate my time here. I never realize how much I miss him until I do. With no warning, days become unbearably difficult and I can't focus on my trivial tasks because I picture him laying in a hospital bed, hooked up to modern technology, fighting for his life, which he lost six months after the death of his mother.
Today has been hard. | | |
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