On Being Sick

There are some things that are strictly necessary when one is sick.

1. Tea. Though tea is traditionally taken in mugs (and a mug that one can wrap both one’s hands around is distinctly preferred), the tea should be prepared in buckets because by the week’s end, one will have drunk seas of camomile and honey and lemon.

2. A hoodie. Clearly, this is so that one can pull the sleeves up over ones hands and then cross one’s arms in the perfect posture of “I feel very sorry for myself right now.” It also keeps one warm when one feels irrationally cold.

3. Soup. The flavor of soup will certainly depending on how volatile one’s stomach is. This food choice is especially wonderful because it does not require chewing (which takes up valuable energy), and because it is nice and warm (see above).

4. Chapstick. My lips are always determined to feel as miserable as any given part of me. Headache = chapped lips. Cold=chapped lips. Stomach flu=chapped lips. Dehydrated=chapped lips. Chapped lip’s copy-cat complex=silliness.

5. Mama. She is entertaining, and intuitive, and actually likes staying home with her sick children. Even when her sick child is 21. <3

6. Kleenex with lotion in it. Because for whatever reason, my nose likes to get as chapped as my lips.

Of course, having a great book to read or a really good movie is super helpful too, but since you’ll just fall asleep in the middle of it anyway, I figured they weren’t essential. Particularly if Mama is there. Catching up with her is way more fun anyway. I’m pretty sure just feeling loved by her makes you get half-way well.

Anyway, it’s not as if you didn’t already know what makes being sick better, but I hope this made you smile.

P.S. Please don’t feel too sorry for me. If I was actually desperately sick, I wouldn’t have the energy to write this blog post. : ) (and Mama took good care of me last night. So actually, it’s okay to be a little jealous.

Not In My Job Descriptions

The world is a perilous place my friends. There are spiders in it.

You never know when you may be called upon for heroic action. I thought work was a very safe place. The only thing approaching to nature in our nice indoor little office is a lone plastic tree which we have affectionately named “the forest.” There is nothing here for spiders.

Nevertheless…someone wonderful brought a load of boxes to the office and set them on the couch. That person is very thoughtful, and we definitely needed the boxes, but when my hardworking office-mate Destiny went to grab a box she discovered a HORRIBLE spider. He was the very worst kind–the ones with legs that arch to excess over his head. He wasn’t tiny. He was brown. He was so scary.

Also, he had chosen his position strategically. He wasn’t on a solid surface, just waiting to be smacked. Nope. This little creep was on the very far edge of an open flap of the foldable box. He could skitter underneath the flap in no time, and if he wasn’t completely dead on first contact, he could easily be flung either backwards deep into the couch cushions (shudder), or forwards AT US (GAHHHHHH!).

So. Though I had jumped up from my desk and whipped off my pretty red flats to do battle, this plan of action was clearly destined for disaster. Therefore, Destiny and I stood huddled together in front of the box, appalled at the situation that had sprung upon us. She suggested taking the box outside and flicking the spider out into the great unknown. This sounded like a plan likely to get the spider far away from me in a short period of time, so I was game. : ) She grabbed the box by the flap furthest away from the awful brown nasty and proceeded down the hallway towards the front door of the building. I asked her to move the spider-side of the box closer to the opposite wall so I could run past her to open the door. “And please keep it from jumping on me,” I pleaded, rushing past.

I opened the first door and hid behind it while the box came through. Then Destiny backed through the next set of doors and set the box down outside.

“Now what?” she asked.

I whisked off my shoe again, glad that my earlier heroics wouldn’t be completely wasted. I snuck up behind the gross, scary, many-legged one and, ninja-like, dealt him a decisive blow. He flew off the box, which Destiny quickly snatched away from him (lest he get any outrageous ideas about hijacking it again) and we darted inside as swiftly as possible. (He definitely looked like the kind that jump. Very far.) We were not taking any chances.

Once we had three doors and a hallway in between him and us, we regrouped. I checked my pulse. Destiny sat down. We both thought about making our way down to the counseling offices at the other end of the hallway. That, however, would have led us past the front door, where our little stalker might have been waiting for us. So we decided to hide in our office until the end of our shifts and then go out the back door.

Then I thought about the people I had seen in the hallway on our trip back to the office. There were definitely at least two grown men who had stuck their heads out of their offices to laugh at us in those treacherous moments. Oh brother. At least we lived. If that spider had eaten us (which definitely could have happened), they would have felt bad for the rest of their lives for not coming to save us while they had the chance..

Well, it’s almost time to go home. Pardon me while I run out the back.

Copiers Teach One to be Constant in Prayer

Copiers also resemble small children, in that, if you leave them even for a moment, they will do dangerous things, cram items where they do not belong, and generally turn everything upside-down and sidesways. Also, their insides are far more complicated than one could possibly have imagined, and therefore finding the root of any given problem is ludicrously difficult.
Hence the ceaseless prayer.

Overheard En Route to Church

Daddy (spying Perry’s ginormous purple purse–it’s as big as a beagle, and a black one almost as big): How many purses do you need, the Per?

Perry: Only one. This one’s (indicates the purple) mine, this one’s (the black) Mom’s.

Josh: Your one counts as three.

Perry: (still patiently) No, it counts as one.

Helen: My purse is bigger than Perry’s!

Meredith: My purse is bigger than Helen’s!

Josh: My backpack for TCC is smaller than Perry’s purse!

Perry: Well, you’re not prepared to conquer the world!

Journal Entry

We went back to Busch Gardens back in June, and here's what I had to say about it. :)

I sunburned my toes today.

And rode a carousel.

And ate praline cream ice cream in France

And rode with Mam on her first time down Griffon. Oh I haven't laughed so hard in ages. I couldn't breathe!

We (Daniel, Critter [my cousins] and I) named our carousel horses Blackie, Goldilocks-Fluffy, and Rolf respectively. Rolf was pitch black with bright blue eyes. He was quite striking.

It was a good day. So hot, but good. Oh, and now I have cool flip-flops with tread on the bottom and that cushion my feet. Quite a novel experience.

Whispering in Church

Last Sunday night Pastor Dave was reading some Old Testament blessings, and came to a section on children. He spent some moments emphasizing that children are a blessing and should be viewed that way. He cautioned the congregation to remember that just because something is a blessing, this does not mean that it should be one’s aim to get as much of it as possible. Daddy scanned down our family (which took up two rows this service), leaned over to Mama and whispered, “Oops.” : ) Unfortunately, most of us heard him, and the joke got passed along the whole row. : )

I’m afraid we’re a major distraction in church.

Curly

When one's hair is very curly (as mine most certainly is), humidity, and even rain are not distressing. In fact, the curls thrive with all that moisture in the air. My head is full of Insta-Curls: Just add Water! : D

However, when the weather goes from humid and rainy to windy to hot to weird (read: this week in VA Beach), my hair tries frantically to adapt. Unfortunately, this means that it tries to be straight (HA!) and curly at the same time. Translation: My curls stand straight out from my head. As in, perpendicularly.

We are unimpressed.

Psalm 154

A lament. A song of Sarah.

Why, O Laptop, will you not work?
I sit before thee and weep for my work is no more.
Why would you choose just now to cease thy blessings?
My life is bereft without you!
If you will turn your bright face towards me,
I will dance with joy and no longer call out imprecations at you.

O Lord, see my plight!
Take my computer in hand!
Do not allow it to gloat over me;
Rejoicing in its power over me it sneers and will not obey.

Rejuvenate it O Lord
and bring peace again to my heart.
If you do not arise on my behalf O God,
I will be forced to journey to the computer lab
and spend long lonely hours in desolation.

Save me O God,
in your mercy save me.

ohhh college...

It has been a long day when laying your head on the table during class looks genuinely cozy and you feel happier just thinking about it.

Why Working in An Office Is Hilarious

Short explanation: I’m entering data from an enormous stack of forms into excel today (among other things).

1. The last name Berg looks like Bug due to the excessive speed this person utilized when writing their name. And the fact that their last name was about to be Bug in Regent records from now on since they didn’t slow down to write clearly.

2. Adults who have illegible handwriting. (Dear human being, didn’t you want me to be able to read this? Isn’t that why you wrote it down?)

3. When the perpetrator checks the “other” box and proceeds to handwrite in exactly one of the options already provided in their multiple choice.

4. Also, when they check a box and then write beside it exactly the opposite information. (Example: Question: Are you receiving financial aid? Box checked: Yes. Info beside it: I have never received a loan or scholarship for this university.”)

5. Incredible last names. Names that you can’t believe actually exist. Oh how they lighten up my day. Like Bug. Or Starcruiser.

6. Going through stock photos. For example, when this cheery employee searched “gold seal” somehow the website saw fit to return images of terriers, grass, skulls, hot air balloons and silver and sapphire rings. I’m sorry Dean’s List students. Your congratulatory letter might have to settle for a gold star.

The Myriad Joys of Residence Halls

Odds are, if you live in a Residence hall, you live under other people. This was the case last year. Catherine and I lived under two gentlemen who I am sure are perfectly nice people. The noises that they made while living above us, however, were simply unbelievable. One night, there was a cacophony of sound that had us convinced that the ceiling would shortly be united with the floor, squishing us between. When the plaster remained intact, we began speculating what on EARTH could have caused that noise.

Here are some guesses:

• Sam and James were holding hands and simultaneously jumping off the counter to the ground
• They were dropping sequoias.
• They were bowling, using a concrete culvert as the ball.
• One of them had a stroke while doing yoga.
• and our favorite: They owned a pet mastodon (which, if you didn’t know, was a prehistoric and especially large variety of woolly mammoth.)

What do your neighbors sound like? And if Sam or James are somehow reading this…what were you doing up there?

It's snowing, snowing, snowing :D

Which brings up all kinds of ethical issues:
1. Do I go out in the snow and still run all the errands I need to run for class tonight (risking my life with the terrible VA drivers) or do I bank on class being canceled (risking my life where my grade is concerned)?
2. Should I beg God for class to be canceled when my final presentation is tonight (which we are ready for, by the way and our group is most excellent) and it is worth 20% of my grade and this is our last class?
3. Can I be supremely happy about this snow even though it may mean that some of my friend’s flights are delayed/canceled?
Gosh, being a grown up can take all the fun out of this.
Oh wait,
no it can’t!
It’s snowing! It’s snowing! It’s snowing! tra la la la la : ) *twirls in office chair with delight*

Ohhh, the RA ..well you know (Part III)

As I said earlier, we weren’t two speedbumps into our trip before Bingo was asking Bossman “Are we there yet?”
Lolli piped up, “LumLove is breathing my air! Make him stop breathing my air!” Then she turned around and caught the Intimidator’s eye. Her eyes flashing merriment, she turned to the front seat, “Intimidator is looking at me! He’s looking at me!”
Intimidator can hold his own against such childishness. “If you would keep your eyes forward, you wouldn’t know! Besides, I wasn’t looking at you.”
This car trip had many special moments...or quarter hours. For example, LumLove started telling us about his sketchy family history. I think this discussion branched from a chat about nature versus nurture. Let me just say that if genes have much to do with moral makeup, LumLove might be the next super pirate. Did you know he is related not only to the mafia, but to terrorists and even King Edward Longshanks (have you seen Braveheart? No, he wasn’t the good guy in that movie). The behavioral intervention team has been notified of his antecedents. : )
We listened to a great deal of music in our four hours to the metropolis. LumLove, Captain and Lolli all took turns being DJ. By the end of the trip the only requirement really was that we needed to be able to listen to the whole thing. LumLove’s favorite thing is to play about a minute and a half of any given song before he moves on.
The only CD that we listened to on multiple occasions was the soundtrack to the skit we would need to perform early the next morning. The clip of the skit is attached to the bottom of this post. Believe you me, it is worth your time. I have hilarious friends. Just imagine for a moment the brainstorming that went on in order to produce this masterpiece! : )
http://www.facebook.com/#!/video/video.php?v=466629265848

Ohhh the RA Conference Was So Much Fun (Part II)

LumLove has long, long arms. As he tried to fold himself comfortably for the sweet ride home on the front row, he ended up lying flat on his back. He would extend said limbs and his fingers would brush the ceiling of the van, apparently providing him with vast enjoyment. The other boys, (not Bossman, who was driving or Captain, who was keeping Bossman company) were zonked out further back in the van. The girls were peacefully enjoying the dark car, after the constant stimulation and activity of the conference. As LumLove’s fingers walked around the ceiling, they stumbled across the light and flicked it on. He yoaned (yell-groaned) horribly and switched it off. A great cry of protest rose from all corners of the van.
Having a bright light suddenly switch on in front of your face is an unpleasant sensation bound to produce disgruntled reactions. These were found in abundance. “LumLove! Stop it!” “What are you doing?” “Ahhggh! Stop! LumLove! Please, don’t do that again!” and such like were heard simultaneously. His hand dropped and all the awake members of the vehicle laughed.
Seconds later, he did it again! Switching on the light, he made that awful noise, and the poor boys started stirring. Barkie decided to take the matter in hand.
“Seriously, LumLove, you do that one more time and I will dump my water bottle on you!” She shook the container in question,affirming to him that there was, indeed, plenty enough liquid to make the next 3 hours of the car ride rather miserable for him.
He sat straight up, “Barkie, if you do that to me…” he searched his vocabulary for a proper way to express his indignation,”it’s going to take a long time for me to forgive you!”
I started laughing. “Well then, don’t turn the light on silly!”
Barkie and LumLove exchanged glares. Mutually assured destruction had been established. Lolli was laughing, though she too had been vocal in instructing LumLove to quit his shenanigans with the blinding light.
He lay back down and the moment passed. Everyone settled down and got quiet again. His fingers started ambling along the ceiling. The texture must be therapeutic to the fingertips or something. I don’t know.
“LumLove,” Barkie said warningly, “those fingers of yours are getting awfully close…”
yep. Two seconds later, the light switched on, the dying cow noise was heard, and Barkie was over it. “Seriously LumLove? Seriously? I’m going to dump my water bottle on you!” She shook it violently near his face.
Thinking of the hardworking boys trying to sleep, I said meaningfully, “My waterbottle’s fuller than hers is.”
Lolli joined in, “Yeah, and I’ll spit on you!”
LumLove was really grossed out at this point (and I was in tears with laughter), “Agh, Lolli. Trashy. That’s just trashy. It must be the Georgia coming out in you.”
Bingo came out of a dead sleep to defend his native land. “LumLove,” was he said, but the tone of his voice indicated rather clearly that Lum would do well to change the topic of discussion.
Once I could breathe again, I found my notebook and wrote all this down. You see, the reason all of this is so funny is that we are such responsible, professional individuals who love each other dearly. Also, we are all at least 19. You would think we would have it together by now. But, nope. Not at all.
Dear Bossman, you deserve a medal. That’s all.

Ohhhhh the RA Conference Was So Much Fun! (Part I)

It doesn’t really matter how old you are apparently–when adults enter a van for a long car ride, they revert to their childhood. Instantly. As in, we weren’t past the second speed bump of our parking lot before 5-year-old syndrome set in.
I believe character sketches are in order. This is the RA Staff of the Regent Commons, the people with whom I just made a weekend getaway.
Bossman is our boss–overseeing two fantabulous buildings full of undergrad and grad students, single and married. He is hilarious, serious, Christ-like, and very skilled all at once. I cannot imagine a person better suited to his position…or managing us.
Jonnie Zucco is a girl with stunningly long blonde hair, quick wit, hilarious knack for imitations, and a fire burning in her bones. She fiercely loves, most especially Jesus. Absolutely awesome girl.
Bingo is from South Georgia, and he would be quick to add self-depricatingly that if you were listening to him speak, instead of reading my introduction, you would have observed that for yourself. : ) Though he is quiet, his depths of impishness are astounding. They only think he’s grown up enough to be a grad RA. Well, all right. He reads Russian Literature and Flannery O’Connor and likes it, so he has to be a little bit grown up. More grown than I, at any rate. Also, his understanding of Scripture continually convicts and comforts his classmates and anyone else who reads his blog. You’re a good man Bingo.
B Diddy is our resident gentle expert, who quietly knows how to do everything. He is a returning RA, and is known for wearing his snazzy Student Housing polo with his collar popped all. the. time.
I’m sort of doing this in age order. Also, I am using our nicknames. I thought I should tell you that lest you think poorly of the parents of these individuals. No, no one was cruel enough to name their son Bingo. We did. : )
The origin of the Intimidator’s name is uncertain. Some say it is because at the annual softball tournament, opponents are quaking in their cleats and high socks. (this is less noisy than when individuals quake in their boots, but still noticeable enough to gain attention). Others say it is because the mere sight of his briefcase stuffed with knowledge packed tomes (which he does read) frightens librarians, fellow students, and chiropractors alike. He is intense, but he forgets that he’s supposed to be serious more and more frequently of late, leading to disarming and hysterical results. We like our Intimidator. I think we’ll keep him around.
Barkie is short, happy, insanely creative, and has a magnetic personality that attracts not only her residents, but every member of the staff and the rest of campus too. She is a movie making machine, and her flyers can be spotted across the hall for their excellence and originality. She hates bad drivers (meaning anyone who didn’t grow up in New Jersey). You can’t make coffee dark enough for her and Trader Joes is her happy place. She lovvveeesss Jesus. She is the RA across the hall from me, and partnering with her is one of the best things that ever happened to me.
You guys know me. I’m an upperclassman girls RA, mischievous, think very hard about everything, and love watching people. I can’t dance and I love skits.
LumLove is stratospherically tall. 6′ 8” to be precise. He is long, and sentimental, and sings (his voice is mellow, happy, pleasant, and comforting), and plays the ukulele and is addicted to facebook. He doesn’t drink coffee and worries about everything. He is so smart and funny and practices doing the funniest things like fake snoring and making creeper faces. I LOVE LUM LOVE. He gets perfect grades, by the way, even though he procrastinates and stresses and is convinced that everything he’s ever written is the worst piece of English composition ever to be submitted via Blackboard. His freshman boys love him. And by love, I mean “thinks he’s the coolest thing in the world.” Possibly, because he is.
LumLove took a while to explain, so I’ll hurry up. :)
Captain earned his name by making the theme of his hall Sparta. He is a Cinema Television Student, and the film he co-wrote and produced has been submitted to the Sundance Film Festival. Crazy creative this man is. He has seen every movie ever, as well as most You Tube clips. He loves being the DJ for our RA get-togethers, and mimics trumpets to perfection. He therefore does so, frequently. He is dating…
Lolli! (finally). This girl is strong, talented, gorgeous red hair, petite, hysterically funny and deeply caring. She is a fabulous RA. The following story occurred during a semi-recent staff meeting. We were considering putting on a live Clue event (you know, the mystery board game), and were at that moment deep into potential weapons. Fun part about living on a college campus–no weapons allowed, making our event difficult to make believable. People were racking their brains for murderous legal items. One of Lolli’s suggestions (inspired, no doubt, by the controller sitting on the coffee table in front of her) was that the poor victim in question could have been slain by a remote control. Quick on the counter attack, LumLove asked sarcastically how on earth anyone could be killed by a remote control. Lolli had thought her suggestion through, however, “You cram it down their throat. C’mere, let me show you!”
Glo is the freshman girls RA right underneath my room. She is TEENY TINY and has a deadpan sense of humor like you wouldn’t believe. She loves glitter. Her hall is the international themed one, including both a lama and Central State Park. She’s a theatre student, and works her tail off as a YMCA employee as well. How this woman holds it all together, I have no idea. Somehow, she still finds time to shop online, and she’s always wearing one of her judicious purchases. She’s so pretty.
Deeeeeeep breath.
Now you know us. Welcome to the Regent Commons, home of the best RA staff currently in existence. Next post I’ll tell you about our juvenile and oh-so-funny adventures at the RA conference.
Love,
Sarah