Tonight I visited the Dive..

So. I don't think I've been surrounded by so many drunk people in my life. I think I need to shower.. for possibly days.. to remove the stench. Feeeeelin a little violated and disgusted with the male race in general. But I racked up 9 more reasons not to be that girl--the drunk one, Kitty. Entertaining at least. Now...homework?

Miles: today-2, total-6

Struggle: keeping gossip/hateful thoughts to myself

Joy: dancing--like a freak, not freak-dancing:)

math high

Wowza. It's been awhile since I've been up this late on a school night. I'm hesitant to call it invigorating, but for me it almost is (though I, of course, realize it can't be a habit or I'll collapse). It's nice and almost exciting being the only one awake on our floor. Here I am at my self-proclaimed "most productive hours of the day." And I did get a a sizable chunk of work out of the way here. More than that, however, nighttime is when I do my thinking. Not always my best thinking, but it's when my brain is going so fast I can hardly keep up. So while I may be nonsensical as the next person at 2am, I am, at least, ADHD, which I learned from Percy Jackson will keep me alive in battle..or something...

Anyway, really I'm here because I'm on a math high. Everyone gets "math high," right? I'm not just a freak. Really, think about it. Whether it's a first grader who finally gets the fact that 3+1 does in fact equal 4 (had to check that one), or you're in high school finding x..and etc. Math high is as good as it gets. It's that moment when it just clicks, and you feel like you've solved all the world's problems--the world can go on to live in peace and harmony forevermore. I did four problems tonight, which took me about two hours, and I currently can't think of any better way to spend my time. That, I realize, does make me a freak. But I figured it out! Your addition-struggling 1st grade self understands me, even if you don't.

So right now, I want more work! Somebody stop me please. I want papers and problems and a weekend full of learning. Freak. Freak. Freak. I will not feel this way in seven hours, trust me. Mm. Math high. Much love.

miles run: today-2, total-4

struggles: decisions. also, 5 months outdoors is a long time..kinda..this should be less on my mind

joys: math! also, progress on the friend front

God is Good

Today I was reminded, blatantly so, that God answers prayers, even the little guys.

Also, I had some sort of weird thing affecting my brain because today was a major goal-setting day. Healthy eating--we have a constitution, homework weekend--schedule is planned, possible marathon?? What is getting into me!

My fingers are blistery, that makes me glad.

I feel like dancin.

Good night, Wednesday. Hump day isn't so bad.

Miles run: 2 <-- it's a start, right?

Struggle: make friends without making fun

Joy: hymns and apples

You know when you have so much to do that you don't do anything except think about what to do and where to start...so much that nothing gets done at all? That was my Tuesday in a nutshell. Tomorrow, 'the coldest day in the last 30 days,' is also going to have to be the most productive day in the last 30 days.

also:

New Foods I've Tried

1. Orange

2. Walleye

3. Quesadilla

4. Sweet and spicy wings

5. Yogurt with fruit chunks

6. Sweet and sour pork

7. Italian green beans

8. Fetichini Supremo

9. Eggplant

10. Ravioli

11. Blackberries

12. Frog legs

13. Scallops

14. Perch

15. Kiwi

16. Broccoli

17. Lemon and pepper chicken breast

18. Rice with curry

today's struggle: judgement on those around me

today's joy: singing without structure

best week/night of my life

Here:

We were cold. We were wet. We were miserable. We were a group of people with little in common; varying ages, interests, family ties ,and friend groups separated our assembly church familiarities. The one thing we did share was the fact that the nine of us had spent the last four days of our lives struggling to survive the wrath of the so-called “beautiful” Boundary Waters of northern Minnesota. Expecting sun, we were poured on. Expecting splendor, we were tormented. Expecting relaxation, we fought for our lives. Now we came together on our last night, huddled together, dependent both on each other and the struggling flicker of the firelight for warmth, ready to share our stories.

We told our common stories first. We told of capsizing and whitecaps. We cringed remembering our nights avoiding hypothermia in the freezing rain, drenched in our sleeping bags and for the first time appreciating the comfort of a good pb&j. We told of getting lost, being found, and of the joy brought by a five minute break in the bleak clouds that had been our constant companion throughout the week. We told of singing endless songs and playing pointless games to pass time. We told heroic stories of “Canoe Olympics” and crazy antics that had us laughing at the time and brought us near hysterics now. We told the stories that had brought us together over the week--accounts of the events that had transformed us from a group of nine acquaintances into a single unit of confidantes, bonded by the love that comes only through truly life-changing experiences.

Our tales slowly evolved from those of our week’s adventure to the epic of our lives. We told the stories that made us the people we are today. That night I heard stories and shared experiences that I could not have imagined these people were lugging around with them. Hardships and triumphs had fashioned the very being of my peers, and their testimonies were now shaping me. I now knew the fear of coming out of a coma and not recognizing the family around me. I now knew the heartache of being left forever by the one I loved. I now knew the joy welcoming a baby sister in the world. Years of struggle and exuberance were shared, and I grew not only in listening to those with me but by relaying my own experiences as well.

There is a certain fellowship that comes from story. There in the solace of the circle I knew these people trusted me. They trusted me not only to keep their confidence but to share my own. I knew in my soul that my stories were not falling on closed ears or deaf hearts. I felt the careful attention the circle shared, and there every trifling tidbit held value. The intimacy and simple appreciation of one another was tangible, and this was rooted in the fact that we were sharing freely of ourselves.

That night I learned the importance of story. There in my seven layers of cold and dripping clothing I felt the warmth that only story can bring. There surrounded by nothing but the vastness of nature and countless stars I felt that I was part of something bigger than myself, permanently linked to the world and people around me. That night we laughed until we cried, and we cried until we couldn’t help but laugh. That night everyone was important. Everyone had a story. And thanks to our week of shared misery and trials, we had new stories to share with the world.

thoughts thought and lessons learned on a saturday

12:32 is the perfect time for a cartwheel

God hates boyfriends.

Andrew Peterson is great--just great.

Tackling and being tackled, it's a science--the only science I've immediately enjoyed.

Where 95 are gathered together, God is there, and that's pretty special.

Teaching...and living really... is a lot more than just what you should be doing.

Life's only as awkward as you make it.

Sometimes people are thinking the same thing you are; you just gotta ask.

Biathletes are strange.

behind

New Foods I've Tried

1. Orange

2. Walleye

3. Quesadilla

4. Sweet and spicy wings

5. Yogurt with fruit chunks

6. Sweet and sour pork

7. Italian green beans

8. Fetichini Supremo

9. Eggplant

10. Ravioli

11. Blackberries

12. Frog legs

13. Scallops

14. Perch

15. Kiwi

It's a beautiful day to be a math major

Fridays of frost-your-owns, friends, conversation, twiddles, new jobs, Rubik's cube solving, and crossing things off calendars make for a wonderful finish to a seemingly endless week. Some sad things are coming untrue, and that's quite the start :)

gladness

Do what makes you glad. That is not as easy as it sounds. I mean, singing along with the radio makes me glad. However, I hate to study voice. Dinosaurs make me glad, but I detest science. Problem solving makes me glad, but I get frustrated when math gets tough. Kids make me glad, but I'm antsy. Being outside makes me glad, but I can't handle winter. Adventure makes me glad, but I hate change. Chocolate makes me glad, but it's "unhealthy." Friendship bracelets make me glad, but friends fail. Sports make me glad, but my muscles ache. Jesus makes me glad, but sometimes I know my side of the relationship is lacking.

I find often that I'm never just glad. I don't know how to simply be glad. There's always some worry, some rational thought that keeps me from being 100% filled with gladness. Contentment is hard to come by for me I guess. The grass is always greener, even when I'm basking in emerald shades of foliage.

Something to work on.

oop, is that a tear? damn. so close.

I am so sick of thinking! I am so tired of changing my mind every two minutes, and I cannot stand the fact that everything I believe to be true is mostly backward and definitely not as black and white as it seems. I just want to quit thinking. I want to know what is right. I want to know God's will for my life, and I want to go and do it. I'm not that smart. I can't make decisions on my own. I'm no good at change, I'm no good at any of it. I'm little. And I want to be little for a little longer. My brain hurts, my heart's sore, and my stomach feels icky. I just want to not think anymore.

Practicing my skills

This post is going to be about my frustration with EDU 230, Social Foundations of Education, and the Gustavus Education Department. I will attempt to relate my extreme abhorrence with the class and express my desire to glean real and useful knowledge during my four years here at GAC.

This, the body of my post will include the meat of my ideas. That is, it will include my major points and complaints with the program as described in the introduction of my post. EDU 230 is a joke. 50 minutes I spent today learning things I went over with 5th graders this January, except the 5th graders got a more worthwhile lecture. I cannot properly describe my frustration with the fact that I may learn absolutely nothing in this class for which I am paying a very substantial amount of money. And this is a 200 level class. As it stands now, I will be taking 3, 4, sometimes more classes of this nature ever term for the rest of my time here. I will not study abroad, I will not minor in anything that catches my interest, I may not even be able take much more math. This is me, annoyed. And that is what this post is about.

Now I will conclude by wrapping up my major ideas and relating back to the introduction of my post. There is little in my life currently which fills me with as much frustration as learning the so-called Social Foundations of Education. There is no point. And with that I will end my post.

The end.

Today, I miss my daddy

It was a dark and stormy night. I lay silent in my bed, counting the seconds between the flashes that filled my bedroom with light and the crashes that filled my ears with terror. I lay there still, too tired to move, yet too panic-stricken to close my eyes. My door creaked slowly open and the shadow of a large figure appeared on the wall above my bed. My head whipped towards the shadow’s owner, my startled heart beating staggeringly more quickly than before. I took a deep breath, relieved to see my dad peeking in, smile on his face.

“Hey, Pea,” he hissed, “you asleep?” I shook my head. “There’s quite a storm going on out there, want to watch?” I jumped out from under my Winnie-the-Pooh sheets before he could say another word. Any exhaustion I had felt moments prior had now left my body completely, and my dad and I walked hand in little hand through the house and out to the front step. “Careful not to wake Mom,” he warned. My six-year-old body was overcome with concurrent terror and excitement. Storm watching was one of my dad’s favorite activities, and he wanted to watch this one with me. I crawled awkwardly over his legs, plopped myself comfortably in his lap and smiled nervously at him. I began paying careful attention as he began to talk about cloud formations I didn’t understand and scientific explanations I didn’t care about, but soon I was drifting into the power of storm.

The sky shone an eerie green, and ominous clouds held threats that sent shivers down my spine. I hugged my purple pajamas tightly around my comparatively miniscule frame. We sat and watched the rain fall and dance on the pavement and squinted as the world light up around us for mere milliseconds at a time. “Smile,” my dad prodded, “God’s taking pictures.”

I put on my brave face for the storm. I firmly answered “No” when my dad asked me if I was ever the slightest bit scared. However, the thunder cracks never failed to startle and give me away--I jumped every time. My dad would laugh and pull me in tighter, and I knew that nothing could happen to me. I was safe in his arms.

I watched the storm with wonder as the epic battle of nature was fought before my eyes. Though, being the six-year-old that I was, I soon fought and lost my own battle with consciousness. I was scooped up, and as my dad laid me in my warm and inviting bed, I opened my eyes just long enough to grin and say, “Thank you.” I surrendered to sleep, willing and satisfied, no longer phased by the lights and sounds--the storm continually reminding me of its presence. It was a dark and stormy night, but there shielded by my dad’s strength, tucked under his assuredness, and wrapped up in his courage, I wasn’t scared any longer.

Meh. Politics.

Today in politics, which is quickly becoming my favorite class (go figure), we talked about truth. Truth with a capital T, Alisa said. And our discussion made me realize how timid I am to share my beliefs. I mean, that's relative. There are some people I fill to the brim with my naive opinions.. beside the point. I mean, I am--we are--so reluctant to say that people are wrong. We let everyone have their own truth, and we let everyone live in the place that says their truth is just as legitimate as anyone else's. But that simply isn't true. There is Truth, and it can be known. And what some people believe is Truth, is simply wrong. I believe that when two people argue, one or (often)both must be wrong wrong. And this is because there is an absolute Truth. I believe that that Truth is found in Jesus Christ, who literally is Truth--the Truth, the Way, the Life.

People are lazy. People live by tradition and by the teachings of other imperfect people. In this world, we must live by Truth. Sciences are universally accepted as Truth. Gravity makes things fall, everywhere. Just because my truth says that gravity doesn't exist does not make my truth as valid as someone else's. Gravity is True. We all believe in Truth when it pertains to science and facts. Why are the laws of human interactions different than the laws of Science? Truth is universal, like gravity. Truth exists.

But our society tells us that people must live as their truth tells them. There was not a single person in my 1030 politics class who refuted the idea that truth is relative, that it alters, people have their own truth. Another idea: "Truth is what people agree on." That's not True. I'm not one to believe that we're living in a world that knows what is True. We are imperfect creatures; we do not understand Truth. We ask questions and rarely understand the answers. And even when we do, we are often wrong, even when we all agree. And we are wrong not because it doesn't seem right or feel right, but because there is an answer which is 100% True.

Meh. This is rambly and muddled and really makes no sense. But since I was too concerned with offending people and telling them they were wrong, I said nothing about Truth today..and I was bugged. I'm the first to point out my own naivety.I don't get any of this stuff Grey areas are real for me, for all people. But that's only cause we're human. . I know Jesus. And he is Truth. And the closer I stay to Him, the closer I am to finding what is True.

sleepy

I'm up at 3:14. I'm not sleeping. And I'm blogging. Because I am anxious. I do not want it to be tomorrow. And I know because my mommy and daddy taught me in car rides that sleeping helps you take shortcuts til tomorrow. And then there's no stopping my busy day. I'm not nearly organized or capable enough to have all these busy days running so close together. But I really need to sleep. So here comes my shortcut. Goodnight.

I'm tired enough to admit I'm wrong

You know what I'm really bad at? Being wrong. I mean, I'm really awesome at it actually. I'm wrong all the time. I'm just, awful at admitting, accepting, learning from, and moving on after wrong. And all the other crap that goes along with that. When I'm arguing or even just discussing, I twist things that have no merit into a nonsensical yet sometimes plausible argument, and then I dig in. And I stand my ground. I am not wrong. Ever. It's part of my competitive-ness flaw thing. My issue now is, what happens when I know I'm wrong, very wrong, and the wrongness has to be admitted? What happens when the nonsense I twist up doesn't turn out plausible, after, of course, I've already dug in and stood my ground? How do I take a step back?

Cause today I actually learned several things. The first is that I was wrong about the Circus. And when I create and co-direct a Circus and solve world hunger doing so, mine will be different--I will not wear face paint. Two others are more important. Any after that I'm too tired to remember and record them. But all of them included me being wrong. And all of them included me therefore not knowing where to go thereafter.

the day single people hate and the rest shouldn't need

I hate Valentine's Day. There are actually few things I hate with more passion or vigor. Valentine's Day. Icky. I make the same face every time someone talks about it. It's like love threw up today. It's so so so tacky. Cupid's ugly. Red and pink clash. The yucky love stuff makes me barf. I just really, really hate it.

Don't get me wrong. I'm a romantic--hopelessly so. I want nothing more than to be swept off my feet by a beautiful man on horseback. Someone should work on that. I hate Valentine's Day because it ruins love for me. It ruins romance. I hate the fact that my dad says he "can't forget to buy mom flowers on Sunday." Yuck. Valentine's Day creates chores for people who are supposedly in "love." Tell me you love me on a Thursday. Tell me I'm beautiful on a day other than when Hallmark makes you feel guilty for doing anything but doting. That's why I'm a hopeless romantic in the first place.

Today, I'm making cookies, eating ice cream, and watching a chick flick. I will fully enjoy this holiday the same way I cope with the other depressing days in my life. Happy S.A.D., world.

highs for the week.

This week, my teachers taught me:

- Math is bullshit

- Democracy doesn't work

- How to train a wife

- I can get sexy pictures for free

- Physicists are crackheads

This is the kind of knowledge for which I'm paying over $100 a lecture.

numbers. are. awesome.

{ { } } <------- THAT is a "1." How cool is that!

Kelseytime

Kelseytime, is good time. If I've learned nothing else so far at college, it is how to be content while alone. I've always been so concerned about who I am with other people, as though their definition of my worth was the only one that mattered. I loved it, don't get me wrong. I loved pleasing people, so much that I pissed some people if only to gain the favor one. I put the contentment of others above my own sanity, and at times it blew up in my face. So this is one thing for which I am thankful this year. I've learned about myself. I got so sad in the beginning of first semester, when I had few friends and had more alone time than I knew how to handle. I constantly had that icky feeling in the pit of my stomach. That no-one-likes-me, why-does-everyone-have-something-to-do-but-me, how-long-will-I-live-without-friends feeling. I felt that feeling to be completely legitimate, while silly. I spent the last two years of high school constantly surrounded by people I loved, people I knew how to make happy, and therefore I was happy. College was a whole new ballgame; I had no one to make truly happy, and therefore I was miserable. What I've learned in these amazingly short five months is that I don't need to constantly be surrounded by others to be happy. I've learned to take a step back from being so busy. While I still love the buzz of friends, and I'll never be a homebody, I've learned to enjoy the simple time when I'm alone in my room or running in the arb or studying in the library. It's good to take a step back. It's healthy. It helps me to better asses situations. It helps me avoid the things that blow up in my face. Or, at least a few of them. Naps are okay. Reading is great. Sometimes you can do what you want to do and not worry about who is disappointed you're not out with the group--really they won't even notice you're gone. So today I am thankful for Kelseytime. Cause it's going to save my sanity my final four months of my freshman year.

turning over a new leaf?

Two days in a row I'm going to bed before midnight. Happy new semester!

Welcome back to school, Kelsey; you're screwed.

I love St. Peter. I really do. I enjoy learning and going to class and having a regular schedule. I'm just sitting here reveling in the fact that I'm not at home watching a movie with my 16th cup of tea on the day. Not that I didn't love that; I'm just glad to be home.

BUT. As excited I am to start the new semester, I'm also getting very, very nervous about several things. This is going to be a very trying, very busy semester. All of my classes, save Tai Chi, call themselves "time intensive." Meaning after I slack off tonight I will have no choice but to work my behind off every day for about four months. I guess I'm finally in college.

I'm already pretty backwards this term. Of my 4 real "academically-driven" classes, I am tremendously excited for one, looking forward to two, and dreading the last. What's wrong with this is that the one for which I'm excited, I have absolutely no interest in the material. It's a poly-sci class, and I can't stand politics. Thinking about it makes me cringe. However, the 50 minutes I spent in the class today were the most entertaining minutes I've spent in a classroom. Screwy. Also, the class I'm dreading is the one for which I technically should have the most interest...seeing as it's my current major. However, this education class is going to fill me right up to the brim with busy work and useless information from a teacher I can't respect or even understand. It's interesting how much difference the teacher makes in my loving or loathing a class. Which, I guess is a reason why I feel so strongly led to be one. Teachers matter. But really, my worst teacher, as far a I can tell, is teaching me how to become a teacher? This is one of the few instances where I don't quite find the humor in the irony. I'm going to have trouble finding patience this semester.

So first day back summary: Interesting classes will be the academic death of mean and awful classes will result in the termination enjoyment of education...happy as a clam yet royally screwed... eh. I'm optimistic :)

broke

Yesterday, I spent more on my own personal pleasure than I think I have in my entire life. Like..over 8 Christmases worth. But I bought music and sunshine. So that's fun. I just can't spend any money on myself for about 4 years. I even avoided Target last night. This is for real.

Posts from Hodagland: This one's a doozy

New Foods I've Tried

1. Orange

2. Walleye

3. Quesadilla

4. Sweet and spicy wings

5. Yogurt with fruit chunks

6. Sweet and sour pork

7. Italian green beans

8. Fetichini Supremo

9. Eggplant

10. Ravioli

11. Blackberries

12. Frog legs

13. Scallops

14. Perch

Posts from Hodagland: Thursday, the 4th--snooping

Tonight, my grandpa is in bed yet again hours before my brain will allow me to lie down, so I've decided to go exploring.

Whilst Snooping, things that made me "lol"

-A "Nixon Now" pin

- Gold bond shoe inserts

-Chicken candle holders

- The oldest harmonica on the planet

- Instruction manual for "You new Argus C-3, the world's first choice of all 35 mm camera"

- The camera itself-- fricken wild

- Many (3) unused, engraved door-knockers

-Pictures of my dad from when he was a total stud

- Snakeskin purses

-Patterns for some of the most interesting clothing I have ever seen

- One giant magnifying glass

- 60 year old high school diploma

- Wrestling Uniform??

And this was all in the first room...

Posts from Hodagland: Thursday the 4th--good people

I don't give the people here enough credit. I hate coming here. I really do. I dread it more and more each time. But these are good people. My grandpa: who cheats his diabetic diet to help me finish an entire pizza and steal candy from his "secret visitor stash, my uncle: who can turn any and every situation into the funniest thing I've ever heard, my aunt: who every day can find reason to exclaim, "Kels, the Lord is good!" These are good people.

Posts from Hodagland: Wednesday, the 3rd-- 11 pm

I just found a box. In it is literally decades of my grandpa's old sermons and notes. It's like a gold mine. His handwriting is tiny and cramped, but what I can make out is amazing. He was a brilliant, brilliant man. Truly. I've been strengthened tonight, reading words I've heard many times before--yet it's different knowing that the man who complains of the news reporters talking too fast is the same man who wrote them and who fervently believed them to be true.

Tonight my grandpa taught me:

-Pride, not meekness is the thing to be feared

-Praying hands are full hands

-The Christian religion is a religion of Joy!

-I can trust the Heart of Him who has not failed me yet

-We are in danger of restricting our kindness to our thoughts and words--the fruit of the Spirit is active kindness

- Christmas changed Everything

-Fellowship: we all need soul company

- Love of our fellow men flows from love toward God

-Renew your commitment daily!

-This is your war

-You have a friend who loves you--he is your friend, not your master

-Peter did not deny Jesus on his teachings, but he denied his fellowship

-God accepts us.

-He succeeded when we failed

-Let not our hearts be troubled

-God's love is amazing

-A prisoner of love gives himself into bonds

-Xt says: Give me your sins--they are mine

I stole this notecard--

Let not your Heart Be Troubled:

You can Keep Your Poise in a World of Panic-- John 14:27

You can Get Strength when you need it-- Luke 22:43

You can Cry Yourself Out of the Depths of Sin-- Luke 22: 61, 62

You can Find Truth in a Bewildered Age--John 18: 37b, 38a

You can Gaze beyond the Things you See-- Matthew 26: 64b

You can Profit by the Cross you Bear-- Mark 15:21

There's more on that one--but I can keep it by my bed versus on my blog. It's been an eye-opening (for lack of a better word) hour or so with this little box. I've been reminded to thank God for the honor of being his dearly loved child and that I can live in confidence for I know my Keeper and Savior. Tonight I've gotten just a glimpse of who my grandpa was, who he continues to be today, and I've seen a man of God. I've seen a man who touched the lives of many and who touched me in particular tonight. Tonight I am reminded what it looks like when the Lord's love consumes a life.

So tonight I ask, as my grandpa did:

May his misery be my mercy,

his death, my deliverance,

his love, my life.

Posts from Hodagland: Wednesday, the 3rd.

It's 8:29. Which means Grandpa's been in bed long enough to be in REM and I'm finding way to entertain myself. I really haven't done all that much today. I drove 4 hours and 6 minutes exactly, which was surprisingly enjoyable. I thought very little and jammed much. A morning and tank of gas well spent as far as I can tell. Since I've been here in the house the Kock's built, literally, I've watched TV, slept, ate frog legs, and watched more TV. Needless to say it's been quite the eventful visit.

My grandpa's a cool dude. He's sarcastic and he gets a kick out of watching you figure out his wit. His walls are covered in African souvenirs--gifts from chiefs and other knick-knacks, he tells me. It's clear he's touched a lot of people with his life.

But he's lonely. In fact I've never seen a lonelier man. He constantly of how quite the hose is, how quiet his life is.

He sits in his same chair all day, everyday, watching TV he can't hear just to have somehting to do. He laughs at himself when he tells me that he spends more time in bed than he does awake. He cares not to open his mail and says they can come and put him in jail if they get mad he's not paying bills. He can't believe his album of retirement pictures are already 15 years old, yet his age makes him constantly tired and weary.

So I'm sitting here wondering how it switches. How do you go from zealous preacher, father of five plus a congregation to a placid hermit whose best friend is his television? And once you make that switch, what keeps you going?

I wish I had more to say to him.

At this point, why sleep?

I'm behind on posting. I have to learn this dang song. And I'm really just not all that tired. Good morning, Saturday.

bumskies

I'm trying to figure out if I lost...

that's not something we should have to fight about

It sucks. Fighting. Cause usually it does little good. Sometimes, and let me stress the conditionality of sometimes, there is a winner, and there is a loser. Sometimes, issues are seemingly resolved. However, always, and let me stress the concrete nature of the word always, feelings are hurt, grudges are formed, and minds are left unchanged. Because fights stem from senses of pride and feelings of mistreatment and hatred.

Most times, fighting makes us forget why we loved each other in the first place, and why we should be doing everything we can to get that back. Most times, it only makes us remember other grudges, other times we've been hurt.

A lot of times, fighting's the only way we communicate. And that, that sucks.

dance.

there's nothin better than a personal session. i love an empty house :)

this is most certainly true

So I just spent over an hour driving home from St. Paul. What I've come to find true: 1) Snow sucks in cities. It there must be snow, let it be in the country or some place we can enjoy it. We should plan our cities that way. 2) I hate cars. And traffic. People become dicks when they get behind the wheel. 3) I have very, very little patience. But I have more patience than most people in rush hour. 4) 35 W is the worst highway ever built.

gahhh

WHY CAN'T I SLEEP!!??