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