The Truth

   Whether you love God already, or you aren't sure about what to think, or you don't believe in God at all... watch this. It's a little bit slow at the beginning, but it is the Truth.

   If you want to know about Jesus Christ, and His plan for us, here it is in a very short version. And it's beautiful. Because He is beautiful.

 
   Jesus Christ overwhelms me. I never want to stop being overwhelmed, amazed, and humbled by the Truth... and God Almighty will never stop doing that and so much more for me, and for anyone who asks Him.

   It is my prayer, and my deepest desire, that you know how much Jesus loves you. No matter what you've done, no matter who you are, and no matter what you will do, He will always love you. He is waiting for you with open arms and more love than you could ever imagine.

   "The Lord is not slack concerning His promise, as some men count slackness; but is long-suffering toward us, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance."  ~2 Peter 3:9

   Want to know more? Message me! I'd love to talk about it, and get you a Bible so that you can read God's word for yourself and see that it is true.

Loony Luna

   Once again, spontaneity has played a leading role in a decision for me. I was going to a costume party dressed as Luna Lovegood, from Harry Potter. You know, this one:

   

   The one who always wears very quirky clothes, like this:

   "It's going to be so fun!" squealed the Optimist.

   "Pull yourself together. It's a costume, for pity's sake," retorted the Pessimist, who was selecting a very drab, ordinary outfit for the day.

   "No, no, no," said the Optimist, "You're not wearing that. We need to be quirky, you know. We'll get some funky clothes, and hair dye, and--"

   "Hair dye!?" the Pessimist shrieked, pulling a hat onto her head protectively, "No way!"

   "Relax. It's temporary."

   The Pessimist muttered to herself as she shuffled off to pull her hair back in a very ordinary way. 

   Later.... 

   "You promised it would be temporary! Why do I ever trust you?" the Pessimist cried.

   "Well... they didn't have any temporary stuff. But don't worry, it looks nice and it only lasts a couple of months." 

   "I did not agree to this."

   "But it's perfect for the character! Just watch!" 

   .... and with that, the Optimist transformed from this:

   Into this:

 The Pessimist said nothing, eyeing the purple tights with disgust.

First Impressions

   First impressions. They are, as it happens, important. They shouldn't be, not really I mean. The first time you meet someone, you are making a snap judgement. We all do it, admit it.

   You don't agree? Think about it. You see a girl in the grocery store wearing her pajamas. She has her hair pulled up in a messy bun, and she's wearing sneakers. What do you think about her? What do you assume about who she is? And that guy who walks past you, or rather, swaggers past you, with his hat on backwards and a cloud of Axe Body Spray floating along with him, what about him? What about that lady you see with her kids, with her hair disheveled as she tells little Jimmy (for the millionth time), "No,"?

   We all make assumptions, and if you are anything like me, they are usually wrong. Tragically, I'm no Sherlock Holmes, and I guessing that you aren't either. You can't look at someone and know their life's story...so why, oh why do we try so hard?

   You may be wondering what brought this on... never fear, my faithful readers, I will bore you with that story. :)

   So, on my first day of printmaking class, for whatever reason, I decided to wear a skirt. I like skirts. They make me feel pretty, and sometimes you just need to wear a skirt and feel feminine in this world that is constantly removing the femininity of women and replacing it with some strange non-gender-associated thing. Now, on a side note, please don't get me wrong about this.
 
   I have no problem with women working or voting or getting educations... obviously, I appreciate both these things and others. However, I find myself longing for the days of chivalry. The days when men were men and women were women and each respected the other. The men were gentlemen (or at least, it was more expected for them to be so). They held doors for ladies and didn't try to treat them like "one of the guys", because they realized that they weren't. And ladies did their part, being kind, gracious, and, yes, feminine. I sometimes feel that I've been born into the wrong decade. Then, I remind myself that sin has always been around, no matter what disguise it robed itself in. Anyways... back to the present and the topic of first impressions.

   On the first day of class, I wore my adorable jean skirt. Super cute. I wore a v-neck t-shirt (very modest and not at all low cut), a grey cardigan sweater (which same made me feel very old-fashioned, yay!), stockings, and black flats. I pulled my hair back into a bun.

   Now, this sort of outfit is pretty much stereotypical "Homeschool Wear"... which, being homeschooled, isn't a problem for me. However, "Homeschool Wear" brings with it (of course) the rest of the assumptions about homeschoolers. You know what they are: Homeschool kids don't have friends, have absolutely no media input, are incredibly sheltered, and have no social skills. That's what they say, anyways.

   I don't know who "they" are, but I'm pretty sure that most of the time, "they" are wrong. And in this instance, they most certainly are.

   I will not spend this entire blog talking about the many stupid things people say to homeschoolers ("Do you ever... like... meet people?" ... "Why yes, I've just met you, haven't I?"), but I will comment on how hugely first impressions can impact you.

   The class immediately caught onto my "conservative Christian homeschooler" vibe... though, mostly, it was my instructor. The Greenie, as I now dub him, is usually nice, but I get the feeling that, had I come into the first class wearing a 100% recycled-from-elephant poop and chicken feathers sweatshirt, had my hair flying frizzy and a la naturale, while I was sipping my healthy veggie juice from my eco-friendly cup... he might have viewed me differently.

   I'm not really offended by this, because I've realized that I don't care, but it's interesting the way people look at me when I look the part of a homeschooler. You can tell a lot about what a person is thinking from their eyes.

   Anyways, this whole thing just reminded me of how wrong first impressions can be. I'm homeschooled, Christian, conservative, and proud of it... but unlike the stereotypes, I have friends, social skills, and media input (for better or worse, haha).

   It just makes me wonder... how many times a day do I misjudge people?

   Do I really want to know?

Here We Go Again

   I'm taking a printmaking class. Yes, yes, I know what you must be thinking: "Here she goes again." And as that thought swirls around in your mind, I have to admit that you have a point.

   It is true that most of the things in my life happen either on a whim or because I don't know what I'm doing. Writing? It sounded like a good idea. Painting? I was bored and trying something new. Judo? I wanted to be a ninja, and so I found a ninja class. Japanese Language class? I needed another class and everything else was basically full. Dance? I just... like it. And of course, the most surprising thing: aviation.

   You may well wonder why my interest in aviation was surprising. Well, all throughout my childhood I was afraid of basically everything, including ladders and heights. So, when I announced that my dream job involves cruising around the wild blue yonder, it came as a bit of a shock to my friends and family. I still remember when I told my Mom about it... *cue flashback music*


   "Hey look. You want to learn to fly?" I said, as we passed the local airport with its sign proclaiming: "Learn To Fly!" to passersby.

   She laughed.

   "I actually kinda think that would be cool."

   Her eyes were huge, and, as she turned to look at me, they stated quite clearly, "Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?"

   Anyways... after the initial surprise was over, she became (as always) very supportive. Though she still clings firmly to her belief that any aircraft with less that eight seats is a rattling, flying death-trap.
 
   "She may have a point," said the Pessimist.

   "But, (as a dear friend once pointed out to me), if I it is my time to die, then I will certainly do it. It might as well happen in an exciting way. ...That was a misquote, but the basic idea is still there as it was told me, and I have not forgotten it," returned the Optimist, gazing wistfully up at the clear blue sky.

   The Pessimist rolled her eyes and said, "You're going to kill me some day."

   Anyways. All of that to say that I am taking a printmaking class. I wasn't entirely sure what that would entail until I went, but it sounds pretty spiffy.

   My Instructor is a semi-greasy, well-tattooed, bearded hippie. And he's a pretty funny guy. In other words, his class will be fun and relaxed.

  The Optimist simply beamed as she was told about the copper plates she would use and the wood that she could carve into a reusable picture, "I'll be an illustrator! Just like they used to do... making monotypes and carvings and plates to print. Just think what I can do with a Victorian era theme. Imagine the illustrations based on Sherlock Holmes stories!"

   "I can't wait," yawned the Pessimist, "Another exhibition of your inner geek. Because that is just what the world needs."

   But the sarcasm was lost on the Optimist.

Tae Kwon Do! ... Or Not

   I was pretty excited about starting Tae Kwon Do next week at school... until I got an email from some lady who called herself "Master ---(insert name here)".

   In this email, the peppy "Master" told us that we would need to sign a health release, buy a uniform, and... wait for it....

   Get a mouth guard.

   "A mouth guard? Really!?" screamed the Optimist, "She must be kidding."

   "She isn't," muttered the Pessimist, seriously dissatisfied with the turn of events.

   "But...but..." the Optimist whimpered pitifully, "All I was looking for was some good exercise and spiffy ninja moves. This sounds more like--"

   "Like signing up to have someone kick you in the face and throw you around every week? No way," the Pessimist rolled her eyes, "I always thought that Tae Kwon Do was such a gentle sport."

   "You did?" asked the Optimist.

   ...

   "No."

   "Oh," she said, "Do I have to take this class?"

   "You have plenty of credits, and you were only taking Tae Kwon Do because you could. I think 'fun' was the word you used to describe what you were expecting."

   "Was it?" asked the Optimist, perking up a bit, "You know, my dear alter ego? I can be really dense sometimes."

   "Tell me about it," said the Pessimist, as she removed Tae Kwon Do from the schedule.

   The Optimist sighed and said, "I wonder if there's another class that would be fun instead..."

   The Pessimist simply glared at her, "Or you could spend the term being shockingly academic and continue exercising at home."

   "There's always that," she said.

Sin

   "Do you want to commit a sin?" he asked.

   "Uh...what?"

   "Do you want to commit a sin?" he repeated.

   "What???"

   "How far are you on the homework?"

   I shook my head, "I'll help you if you want, but I'm not going to give you my answers."

   He laughed and made light of it and moved on.

  "Did he really just say that?" the Optimist inside my head asked, "That was such a stark attempt to cheat on this class."

   "Yep. And you knew it was coming," said the Pessimist, "What more can you expect in an immoral world?"

 ...Well, I have to admit that I have the tendency to expect a good deal from it.

  To my mind, cheating isn't an option and morality is something that I imagine is a commonly known part of life. While I have always known that we live in a twisted world, it still sometimes catches me off guard. I mean really, what kind of world do we live in?

  Since when is it acceptable to cheat and slack off? Since when is it right to flirt with everything that happens to be the opposite sex? Since when is getting drunk the best way a person can think of to spend their long-awaited week-ends? Since when should a girl be made fun of for sticking to her beliefs...for being "straight-laced" as some put it (though I think that that phrase is a little weird, considering that the opposite would be what, "shabby-laced")? This seriously happened to me (same guy, too).

   He kept hanging around and talking and I was alright with being friends. I made it clear throughout our conversations that I am a Christian. He made it clear that he wasn't. But he kept sticking around, so I figured that maybe he didn't really get my point. He started to ask about getting together in the future. He asked for my number.

 "You just want to be friends, right?" I asked. Hey, don't judge. It's an awkward question, so I saw no reason to make it more awkward by dancing around the issue.

 He, however, did just that. He danced a full tap routine around it and then said something like, "I don't meet the requirements."

 In that conversation, I told him quite pointedly that I won't date anyone who is not a Christian. Jesus Christ is the reason for my life, and the man that I marry simply has to share my love of God with me. Without God, life is a humorless joke, and a marriage without God would be the same.

 The next time I saw him, he gave me a hard time for being "naive" and started to teach me about how dating works.

 "If a guy asks for your number, he isn't your boyfriend," he said, in his most patronizing voice.

 "I know," I said, getting pretty peeved.

 ... sigh.

 I know I'm naive, but hey, at least I make sure I know where I stand with people. I'd rather come off as naive than to lead a guy on who might think that difference of religion is the same as difference of book or movie preference.

 And anyways, the good thing is this: even if I am awkward and blunt about things and "straight-laced"... that probably means that whoever I marry will be "straight-laced", honest, and able to accept me in all of my weird naivety.

 So, to all of my fellow young, Christian women out there who are trying to live their lives the way God wants (despite the many pitfalls and ridiculous short-comings we are all plagued with), keep it up!

 Be naive... be Pure.

 Wait for the right guy, and who cares what the wrong guys think? After all, as Amy said in Little Women, "You don't need scores of suitors. You only need one, if he's the right one."

The Ultimate Crime

   So, maybe it's just because I've seen too many cop shows and sci-fi movies, but my brain works in what might be considered abnormal ways. My imagination can run a bit rampant when it is fueled by too many strange books, stories, or movies... or even just ideas planted here and there along the way. In my defence, my friend has agreed with my about the theory I will now share with you.

   My theory is this: Nighttime in a corn maze is one of the best settings imaginable for a grisly, blood-chilling, headline-making, horror movie-esque crime.

   You may be wondering what caused this realization. That's understandable... I mean, it isn't really the sort of thing that just pops into one's mind for no reason at all. But don't worry. I had a reason.

   Tonight, I went to the corn maze with my friend and a group of her friends. Queue rabbit trail: Is it weird that most of the parties I go to are comprised of people I don't know? Not that it's a problem, I actually enjoy it. Meeting new people can be a fantastic and fun time. Or it can be incredibly awkward and embarrassing (I'm okay. I don't want to talk about it. My therapist has it under control). But really, despite the odd disaster here and there, I like it. And people say I'm not adventurous. Anywho, where was I? Ah, yes, the corn maze.

   Let me set the mood for you....

   The night was dark and the chill air stretched still and silent over the land. Small tufts of clouds drifted over the thin, yellow sliver of a moon which hung timid and low in the sky. The corn field lay covered in a coating of eerie white fog. Not a sound was to be heard from within, not so much as a rustling of leaves in the wind or  a drop of rain splattering on the ground. Hired hands moved quickly about their work, a heavy silence lingering as they moved in and out of the shadows.

   Yeah, so it was kinda like that as we made our slippery way out to the maze tonight. As we walked past the flaming torches that lit the entrance to the maze, the title "Children of the Corn" flitted briefly through my mind. Wait, isn't that some terrible kind of horror movie that I've heard of somewhere? I chose to ignore that thought and for a little while, I felt like Harry Potter on his quest to find the Goblet of Fire. Except not. But you know, I'm a nerd and I have the ability to imagine that things are way more awesome than they really are.

   After trudging around for awhile enjoying the cool night air and the company of these friendly strangers, I decided that the maze wasn't too creepy. I mean, I wouldn't want to be alone in the maze, but I was having fun as things were. Then we decided to play a game. The first step in this game was for one person to run off by themselves into the maze and eventually the others would scatter out and find them. The person left alone at the end, of course, would lose.

   While this game sounded fun, I imagined that I might get a bit creeped out if people began to disappear from behind me and I ended up alone. To stave off that eventuality, I decided to volunteer to be the one who ran off alone in the beginning and ended up with a crowd of people by the end. This all sounded like a good plan in my mind.

   I wandered for awhile around the maze, slipping and sliding my way along (and entirely unsure of where I was) until I reached a clearing and waited as instructed. It was a bit eerie, being all alone. At first, I distracted myself by admiring the airplanes flying by on their way in or out of the nearby airport. I have to say, they were really quite impressive and pretty as they soared in and out of the ghostly clouds all lit up. Nerd moment: It was a little bit like being in Star Trek and watching the Enterprise take off. Except not as awesome. But it was pretty spiffy.

   After a little bit, my situation began to sink in. The corn maze is a perfect place for a horrible crime to be committed. It's dark, so the victim wouldn't see their danger until it were to late. It's a maze, so it's unlikely that they could find their way out in time. It's a Halloween type thing, so nobody would be disturbed to hear screaming. It's muddy, so running would be difficult. And it's a maze, so who knows when the evidence would be found. Creepy right?

   So there I stood, just waiting for the hunchbacked farmer in red plaid and overalls to squelch his way out of the many corn maze paths with an axe swinging at his side. That's when one of our group showed up and told me how eerie she thought this place was. I agreed. And I was happy that she was there and that she wasn't a plaid-wearing, mud-squelching, axe-murdering farmer.

   Anyways, so that's what I think about corn mazes. I hope you enjoy that thought next time you visit your local corn maze. Just kidding, enjoy yourself. I did; I had a great time. Corn mazes are fun! .... so long as no one with murderous intentions is around.