It's Finally Starting to Sink In

I am going to Uruguay.

It never really hit me until as of late.
Like, yesterday. And the day before. And the day before.
And today.
I am leaving the country in 15 days. For 5 months.
A foreign country. Far away.

And I am going.

I honestly don't remember why I chose Uruguay. It seems like a weird choice, looking back. I don't feel like I feel like I fit the 'boho/hippie/chill' vibe that I am sort of getting from Uruguay. I feel like I would fit in better with England. But that's because England isn't a ton different from the states. I mean, they obviously have their differences. Like weird words and beans on toast (Kate Nash) and discos and subways and constitutional monarchies and all of that jazz. They didn't actually have jazz, come to think of it. Anyway, I guess it would just be easier to go to England because it would be little effort on my part to do anything. I would fall into comfortability easily. But in Uruguay, it's going to take a lot more effort. I finished reading the Study Abroad books and one of them, Cross Cultural Servanthood, by Duane Elmer, was really good. It was a book primarily oriented towards missions, like hardcore missionary work, but I could see how it would be applicable to me going to Uruguay. I don't really get why the kids going to England or Germany had to read those books. I highly doubt they'll get culture shock like the people going to Uruguay. Unless you're that much of a country bumpkin. But who knows. Maybe they are. They can't look fear in the eyes (fear = Uruguay) and saw 'rawr. Come and getcha sum, fear." Which is what I realized I have done. Maybe not literally. But figuratively, yes, since I am leaving in 15 days and haven't backed out.

I guess what I'm primarily worried about is the cultural differences. And being sure I'm sensitive and not going to perform some awful social gaffe that will humiliate me and shame Uruguay, so that when I leave they'll ask me to never come back ever. Like, I want to build relationships with the people and connect with them in a way that was sort of hard for me to do in India or Thailand or Botswana. Knowing Spanish will make it easier too, but I'm still nervous that I think my Spanish is good but end up looking like a fool. I mean, I know I'm going there to learn it more and be better and more proficient, but hello. I've taken freaking Spanish since I was 13. I should be mildly proficient. So, I don't know. I guess that's why I am the most nervous.

I was going to write more about what I found out about the country, but I am exhausted. So I will write tomorrow.

paz.

Yea, About That...

So apparently my outburst last time I posted was definitely not necessary.
I was apparently really, really upset. I don't even remember the anger factor now. I was just really, really mad. And it was sort of irrational. I definitely was just writing my feelings and not really thinking through a lot of stuff through. I mean, I had good points, I guess, but I was just thinking about me and not where my family is coming from.

I am going to Uruguay. I have to get a 3.75 to stay at ACU. So I'm aiming for a 4.0. Let's see how this works out.
So now I can continue to read and do whatever about this trip. Which I have been slacking on excessively, even though I am leaving in 19 days and I feel as though I should be done with all of this by now, but whatever. I really should get cracking so I can finish in the next few days to show how responsible and on top of things I am to my parents so they'll let me go back to God's country sooner and get a last party in before I put my nose to the grindstone in getting some good grades. Preferably, a party in Lubbock. I really don't need to say more.

I realized that I can't focus and write this now. So, I'm just updating/apologizing for my ridiculousness.

K. That's all. Peace.

Caution: Very, Very Profane.

So I got my grades.
I did ok.
I guess.
I mean, it wasn't the greatest, and I was sort of dissappointed in some classes because I thought I would get an A and I didn't. So I'm rather upset about it. But I don't really think that there is anything I can do about it now.
But because of this one grade in a class I abhor, despite, and loathe with basically my entire body and soul; my entire being rages in emnity for this class, my maternal guardian is saying that I might have to either go back to ACU for the spring.

Or.

Stay home.

Um.
FUCK. THAT.

I absolutely REFUSE not to go to Uruguay. It's absolute bullshit that she's saying this.

First, I don't even remember my mom saying I had a GPA stronghold that determined me going to Uruguay. Well, if I think really hard, maybe. Mom, for the love of all that is holy, please don't make everything in my fucking life fucking circumstantial. Life happens. I won't do everything right. I will fuck up. There shouldn't always be such dire fucking consequences. Get over your fucking power trip and let me live my fucking life. I am not you. Quit trying to make it so.

Second, my family is so fucking concerned about money that they're flipping out, saying that I'm putting them in debt and basically making me feel like shit about it, and if I pull out of Uruguay now, they get no money back. None of it can be returned. That's a whole semester abroad that will be wasted because of one fucking C in a God-awful class. That is stupid. And foolish. And does not make any sense.

Third, the fucking polisci professor is going to Uruguay this spring. Hello. That is why I need to go this semester. Because I am a FUCKING POLITICAL SCIENCE MAJOR. Plus, I'm almost fluent in Spanish. I'll be fluent after my semester. I'll actually be able to communicate and do shit and whatever in Spanish. And then end up taking other languages and end up being whoever the fuck my dad believes me to be in his own little fucking dreamland. To take that away would be dumb.And I mean it's not like I'm going to Oxford. I already know how the western mind works and how to speak fucking English. I will get a TON out of this trip. Going back to Texas, or going back to Cali; pshh please. I know how they work. I know that Texas is amazing and the Californian are freaking commie hippies who smoke weed and lay down in opium fields. Nothing new.

just because of one.fucking.C.

RIDICULOUS!

Studying abroad is a HUGE opportunity that my mom wants to take away because of one grade. One grade. I am most certainly not staying home. I am most certainly fighting this to the grave. If I go down, it will be in a blaze of glory, like Napoleon. I was thinking about it and I definitely think my dad will pull through for me again, as he always does, because he really wants me to learn Spanish and crap. So that will be awesome. Hopefully. If he does. If I wasn't such a failure of a daughter maybe it'd be better and he'd get up in mom's bizz about it. I don't know. I lie, once again, in the balance of a power trip and a pushover.

I feel like the semester was a bit of a dud. There weren't really many classes I enjoyed. There was one. Got a fucking B. SO PISSED. What is wrong with me?! Why am I not fucking intelligent?? Was there a reason I was not granted like 8 more fucking IQ points?!? REALLY!?!?

Anyway. I just felt rather discouraged all semester. I guess it was so lame because the spiritual aspect diminished a lot. Like, I wasn't really plugged into a church, the life group I decided to go to didn't end up working out, I didn't go to KLF, and I didn't really go to Beltway either. So there wasn't a lot of spiritual stimulation. Which I think is part of the reason it was like that. Granted, there were good things. No doubt about it. I had an amazing roomate and amazing girls in my pod. I learned a lot about myself, it was a rather introspective semester. I think I matured a lot. I don't really know how that happened, because there weren't like super intense situations where I had to grow up. But I did. I feel calmer. I don't feel as sporadic. I don't, however, feel like my thought process is where it should be. I just think like a spaz. Like I don't have a coherent thought process. Which hinders me in so many ways. I seem like a retard when I talk to people and my writing is absolutely ridiculous for school papers and crap. I don't know. And I don't want to say 'I don't know.' I want to be able to identify why I feel a certain way and what made me feel that way and what appropriate action to take in order to correct or change my situation/feeling.

I also feel like any goal that I would have has gone away. Fighting justice in India, blood diamonds in Africa, they just seem so far off. It seems like I'll never be able to do stuff like that. Because I fail at school. And lack passion. and I didn't before. So now I don't know. I don't know what I want to do with my life at all. AT ALL. I know I want to go to the International realm, but doing what? I dunno. I have to make a living. I have to do something that benefits and helps people. But what? How? So many questions that need answers in the near future and no drive to get there.

It seemeth as though I am fuckedeth.

Ugh. I hate this. I cannot wait to be old so I can just tell people what to do because I have done it all. I can lord it over stupid 20 somethings and tell them, 'no. I'm right. I'm 60 fucking years old. Do what I say.'

In that vein, I have starting counting down for my 21st birthday. Weird sauce. I didn't think I would. But I guess it all depends where I am at that moment. Abilene? Lubbock? Cali? England?

One never knows...

Carthartic Sauce

I don't think I realized how cathartic this was, writing crap down.
But it is.
So that's rather exciting.
I have many thoughts that have surfaced within the past few days. None of them very pressing, just stuff that I have been thinking about. I guess since my blog is supposed to be about Uruguay I will start there.

I get really frustrated with these websites because they basically all say the same information. Geographic size, population, state capital, national language, national religion. Yes. Ok. 68,000 square miles. 1.34 million. Montevideo. Spanish. Catholicism. Yes. Ok. Good to know. But that's not what I want to know. I want to know the ins and the outs, the good clubs, the fun bars, the interesting people. The potential adventures that await me. But then I realized I am an idiot for thinking google could tell me that. Montevideo will tell me that. So I must wait. 27 more days.
At least the US and Uruguay are cool with each other.

I've been getting really nervous about this trip. Like, uber terrified. It's for so long. And so far away. I hope I don't get homesick. And I hope that I don't miss people too much. And I hope I do well in my classes and stuff. It's just a lot of fear of the unknown. I'm ready to just do this ish, even though I am not packed and I have no idea what I need or anything like that. And I'm so scared about money. I want to have enough but I don't think that I will, so I'm going to have to resort to selling drugs or something. Which I have slight reservations about. Because it's illegal. And damaging.

I just realized I need to get ready to leave to pick up the maternal unit.
Butttt. Food for thought.

Crazy people. How does Jesus see them?

Ohh The Joys of Having Infinite Amounts of Time on My Hands...

So maybe this blog won't all be about Uruguay. But I think it might, it just isn't now because I am not actually in Uruguay. So, until then, it's going to be my thoughts. Well actally I'm sure it's going to hold my thoughts in Uruguay as well, but since I originally said that I was going to make this a travel blog, and as of right now, it's not, it is going to be an outlet for my thoughts and frustrations and whatever. Maybe some dreams. Who knows.

I've been driving around a lot since I got home and I must say that there is nothing that makes me happier than driving around in Newport Beach. 17th Street and Harbor Boulevard freaking make me smile as I drive around, blasting Michael Jackson or some country song or 'Tik Tok' or something like that. I was driving around OCC and I was thinking about all of the fun times I've had with my best friend, like açai bowls during a break in our History class from hell. Or getting Boba and sitting in the parking lot talking our senior year while I was texting a boyyyyy ;) Or that one time we got creeped on when we were singing Michael Jackson at the top of our lungs. Or that other time we drove alllllll the way up the street looking for hookers, but to our dismay, did not find any. I remember all of the good times we had and all of the laughter that was shared on these streets. We got each other. We listened. We understood. We laughed. A LOT. And I just think about it, even though I love Texas and I wish every day that I could be back in the land of salt, oil, and ethnocentricism, I love these streets. These are the places I grew up and figured out, at the bare minimum, who I was, who I want to be, and who I am becoming. I feel as though all of the places my feet will tread will have some kind of impact like that, but the initial steps of discovery were made here. And I cannot forget those. At the same time I don't have many other ones to remember, but I think these, as my first and formative years, will hold a special place to me. Texas cannot replace them. India cannot replace them. Africa cannot replace them. And I don't think Uruguay can either. Yet each has formed me. Each has changed me and my heart, has brought about new experience that I would not have received another way. So with this, I must take my gained experiences and embrace what each of them was and is, and not wish I had grown and experienced other things and places.




As far as things on the Uruguay front go, I have no so much as googled a single, solitary thing. Let's start now.

*CIA World Factbooks Uruguay*
Well. That was sufficiently unhelpful. I now know that Uruguay is full of white, spanish speaking Catholics. Jolly good. I know am so much more informed about my impending home.

This must take more investigating.
Since, apparently, Uruguay is a mystery in my writing.

I'm basically psyched out of my pants for this adventure.

Bring it life. Bringggg ittttt.

Revamp '09

So I haven't really touched this blog for about 600 years. But the up-and-coming events in the life of little ol' me have inspired me to pick up and keep on' a movin' on the blogfront. I definitely feel way cooler when I blog, like I am competent member of the generation that knows how to do everything and thinks that their voice should be heard now matter what, when, in actuality, a little Asian Values could do us some good, valuing the community over the individual. Get some ish done.

Anyway. This is now going to be a travel blog. Because, in t-minus 30 days, I will be making my way town to a little country called Uruguay for a semester. I'm pretty pumped, I cannot tell a lie. Though I am thoroughly terrified because it is a lot farther and a lot less common than going to a European country. Or just staying home. I know nothing about Uruguay. Nothing at all. Except that it's in South America. And that they speak Spanish. And drink Mate. And cozy up next to Brazil. But other than that, nothing. I know nothing of the people, food, traditions, cultures, or any of that nonsense. I am anxious to learn, giving that I will be living there for the next five months, and ought to develop some competency in the place that I will be living. Though I don't know how much you can learn in 5 months. The first 5 months I spend in Texas were such a culture shock I nearly cried every day. It's only been after a year and a half that I'm actually understanding stuff, and asking less questions, but just accepting and realizing the mindset of a Texan. That is it what it is, and it's what hey do, so, deal with it. Though I do want to go back to what made the Texans the way they are. Or the Uruguayans they way they are. Or the Swedish. Or Polish. Whoever.

I don't know how much actual traveling I will be doing, per se. I know that I will be visiting Buenos Aires, Argentina, Iguaçu Falls, Brazil, and some other places, but I will primarily be in Montevideo, because that is where I am studying (thus, the Study Abroad title of the program in which I have enrolled.) But I guess the whole experience of not living in the states/going to school in the stats/being in the states is something rather worthy to blog about. I think I'm going to keep this under wraps until I actually leave, because there are certain people I don't want to know I'm leaving until we get certain business *cough* squared away. Sooo yea. And plus it won't even be interesting until I leave. It will just be me going "woo I'm pumped!" or "I don't know how I am going to take 2 suitcases for 5 months!" or "wtf did I decide to do this?" Because I have a feeling that is what a lot of it is going to be. Including lots of CIA World Factbook, Wikipedia, and LOTS of googling of cheap Latin American airfaire. And of course, a lot of ridiculous, majorly illegal ways of making money so that I can pay for this trip without may family having to sell the house.

I often get frustrated with my parents and my decision to study in Latin America. My mom acts like I'm going off to live with tribal people of the Amazon, when I'm going to the capital of one of the more stable Latin American countries. She won't visit me because she doesn't know anything and makes stupid jokes about doing laundry in rivers and crap like that. And I go ...really mom. Really now. It's just so dumb because she's narrow-minded about it. It's not that hard to use google. Look up the country yourself. Or better yet, go there. Getcho' self another stamp on yo' passport. Except my mom is going to India in January, which makes me insanely jealous because it's only my lif egoal to go back to that beautiful, beautiful land and try and find pieces of my heart so deeply embedded into the soil and sand of Kanyakumari that it would take a lifetime to find it all. And that'd be ok with me.

I know I'm going on a tangent, but this is my blog. I do what I want.
I recently have been thinking a lot about blood diamonds. Like, a lot. I.e. my facebook profile picture. It's allll about the blood diamonds. And I don't know why. I hope it's something I will eventually start caring about/doing something about a lot, instead of just a phase. Because it's a big problem.

I know that if i Justkeep going I am going to turn into a raving loony, and we certainly don't want more of that than there already is. So. I am going to bed.

Says to myself: Goodnight, and Goodluck.

My heart.

I recently received an email from someone in India that I met, asking for support.

And it struck me. I don't know why.
What he was asking for was amounts of money that I do not have and I cannot make.
I was wondering if I just stepped out in faith, if God would provide that money.
But I shrink back in fear at that thought. Which shames me.

As I read the email, 'Time and Confusion' was playing by Anberlin. And it's one of those sort of thinking songs, where thoughts are a little easier to process.

So, after I got this email, I was thinking about India. I was thinking about the people and who I was. And what it all meant. If I was supposed to go back there. If it really is my passion.

It has to be, right? What else would there be? What else would God want me to do?
Why am I so scared to ask? What would be so wrong with aligning myself with the plans of the creator of the universe? Nothing. Duh. It'd be the most retarded thing ever not to do. And yet I cannot let go of India.

But I don't feel like I should. Nor should I let go of Africa. But nothing seems to be happening. I don't feel the overwhelming love for them as I did a few years ago.

But then again, I have sort of fallen into apathy. About my major, career choice, my passions, likes, dislikes, everything. I mean, I like things, and I'm not going around riddled with depression, but nothing like that seems important. Then, I ask myself the question, "Lauren, what is important to you?" And right now, I respond to myself, "Nothing really."

Which is terrifying.
Because I know I am a passionate person. I love things. I have never been one to be like "oh, it's ok." I've always had an opinion. And now, even with politics, my major, it's just kind of apathy with a dash of me knowing what is right, but not really caring.

This is so DUMB. Why, whyyy am I so apathetic?
It makes me crazy.
I was hoping that a mission trip would cure the apathy, but that's not really possible at the moment.
I don't know what will.

Jesus probably will.
I guess I should give that a shot.


Right now I'm listening to 'Taste' by the Josh Abbott Band. Favorite country song ever. Pretty explicit, but hey. Country music singers can get away with most everything. Ha.
It makes me think about Texas, and how I will be heading back to that blessed land in about to weeks. I'm really excited. I can't wait to see everyone and have lots of rain and get back into studying and learning and figuring out life. Now that I think about it, if you work at a college, it's just one great, big science experiment. Semi-teenagers and semi-adults interacting on a daily basis with varied amounts of sleep, school credits, and self-esteem. Definitely would be a fascinating thing to watch.

I am definitely excited to see what is in store for this year. : )

There Has To Be Something in the Air...

This place is seriously the greatest.
I don't really know what it is that makes me love it so much.
But I do.
I honestly am having issues with going home.
But then I ask myself what it really is about Texas that I love, and I can't really put my finger on it.
Maybe it's the wide open skies and sunsets that are breathtaking every single night.
Maybe it's the fact that I have been introduced to wonderful things like lakes, 'queso', access roads (actually, those aren't wonderful), and southern (Texan) accents.
Maybe it's the cowboys.
Maybe it's the home cooking.
Maybe it's the fact that I have struck out on my own here, that I am slowly becoming more and more of who I want to be with an amazing group of people to help me understand that and to struggle, grow, laugh, and cry, and learn with.
Maybe there is just an inexplicable awesomeness about Texas that only Texans understand and all of those that are lucky enough to land here for a moment will spend the rest of our time here trying to understand.
I probably will end up moving here. And living here.

Boys Suck. Life Sucks. And I'm Worried about Swine Flu.

So I recently have been receiving treatment from the guys that I know that I do not like. Call me old fashioned, but I feel as though boys are supposed to have a certain amount of propriety in order to be considered gentlemen. Which a lot of them aren't, according to me.

And I might be a terribly critical judge, but there are many things that make a boy immediately lose gentleman points. Recently, I have had friends do various things to me that make me step back and look at the types of people they are, honestly.

My friend kicked me in the butt the other day. Actually, now that I think about it, my butt has been a main attraction on several occasions. And THAT is not ok. I don't know how I have portrayed that it is. Because it's NOT. If anyone ever does that to me, they WILL not date me. They are officially off my list indefinitely. Why is that ok? Honestly? Who does that? It's legitimately the creepiest, grossest thing in the universe. How have I let people know that's ok? I probably have been a little too lax in letting people know it's ok, because I don't like it. I mean, should I throw a fit every time it happens? What would people think? They'd not touch my butt. But should I care what people think? I dont know. I do know that if I ever told my father of this, there would definitely be a problem for those boys. I guess I need to be a little more assertive. Ha. A joke. I laugh.

Anyway.

The boys I have talked to recently have gotten on my nerves because they think it's ok to talk about everything under the sun regarding girls. Every.thing. Which is gross. I had talking about that stuff anyway, under any circumstance except, you know, in my dorm or with my best friend or whatever. Any other time it's just not appropriate. And I don't know why people don't see or understand that. I HATE talking about it. I know that no one reads this, but I don't even want to write about it here. Because that is how much I hate talking about it excluding a few situations. People always ask "What about when you get married? You're not going to talk about it??" And I think that is a legitimately stupid question. My husband will figure it out. I'm sure we will talk about it. But just for conversation? Hell naww.

Someone asked about my thong.
Someone asked about Mr. Asian.
Someone kicked me in the butt.
I've been called a bitch and a ho (jokingly) more times than I can count.

Is this ok? I don't know why it would. But it seems as though I treat it like it's a big deal, people freak out and think I'm ridiculous. I am NOT ridiculous. I don't want to be treated like some common girl. I'm not. Some people want to be treated like that, that's fine, great for them. Well, not really, that sucks. But still. Honestly? Who told YOU it was ok to disprespect me? Y'all are supposed to be southerners. i.e. respectful. And maybe I was playing into the sterotype. Or maybe what I initially thought was wrong. Or maybe all southerners are posers.

Who knows.

This blog has been in the making for about 10 years.

New one!

Gettin' Creative..

I don't really know what I do this. I don't have a cause or anything. At least as of now. My life right now consists of studying, drama, getting this one boy to like me, and gaining weight. It's super boring and not interesting. I just realized that my description of my life is scarily accurate to what my life was in high school.

Dear Lord, please, do not let that be the case.

I guess I can do this because I can be mean to the people directly around me and not have them have any idea. But if they ever find out about it that would be the absolute end to my life EVER.

Again, high school.

This is dumb. I feel like life should be so much more...especially now. It has been more, I guess. It is different than high school. I'm not at home. I have to do everything myself. I have to study when I need to (which is now, but whatever) and make decisions about how I conduct myself and crap like that. But I thought people were supposed to be different. But no, my school apparently compiled all of the high school drama queens in one place i.e. my hall.

They are so frustrating because I feel so different from them. I feel like an alien. I guess it makes sense though, they're all from the same state, all from really small towns, I don't think that many of them have traveled internationally. And I'm different. I'm not from here. I've seen things. But is that necessarily a qualification for me to be so different? Because we're all girls. We all have some of the same DNA that makes us obnoxious and bitchy or whatever. So is it a real difference? Or am I imagining things?

Show them a picture of those in Darfur or the prostitutes of India and I highly doubt that they would see the tragedy of it. They would have to ask about the tragedy, I suppose, but I highly doubt it would affect them like it'd affect me or people who care about Darfur. And it's frustrating. Really frustrating.

25 more random facts about me.

So this was really fun on facebook.
And I now have more facts to share.

1. I have 4 scars on my feet all from different types of shoes.

2. My motto is "beauty is pain."

3. Dunkin' Donuts should be shared with the entire U.S. Not just the east. But then again that's like sharing In-N-Out with everyone. And THAT is not going to happen.

4. I don't like iced drinks. But I've had 2 in this past month.

5. I remember I wrote somewhere that there's never a day that I don't think about Africa or India. I was thinking about it and actually wondering if that was true, and I think it is, at least about India. I don't think there's been a day since I have been there that India hasn't passed through my head. I hope to be wrecked for that country and devote the rest of my life to its healing through justice.

6. I do not know where I stand on feminism, although I hate it in its most recent context.

7. Sometimes I think God will punish me for my vanity.

8. I have a thing for a younger guy who knows I like him and chooses to lead me on and break my heart.

9. I could not love my church family more.

10. One of my biggest pet peeves is waiting to sit in my seat on an airplane once I'm on the plane.

11. I am trying to be more intentional about my friends. I'm tired of having friends in my life I can't count on.

12. Sometimes I wonder if the fact that I'm extremely loyal hurts me.

13. I kind of want to dabble in the liberal world and be someone totally different from who I am, like getting dreads and getting a lip ring and believing everything Audrey Lourde says and moving to Seattle. But I don't think that's me. But I don't know what is.

14. Recently it was confirmed in my states and federal class that I AM a conservative. And that I know why. Woop.

15. I miss Heather Marie Klindworth and Tabitha Marie Holcomb like crazy and wish they could be here with me. They are two people I love unconditionally and I know they love me back.

16. I wish I had more willpower to be anorexic.

17. I will never be a photographer. Even though I have a natural eye.

18 . Until last week I did not realize the profundity that females have on males in the physical sense. It's very powerful.

19. I wish that if I prayed for 9 more IQ points, they would come.

20. I would be really happy if my roomate stopped treating me like crap.

21. I would be so much more confident if I was good at sports.

22. I'm only competitive when it comes to nerd things. Like states and capitals.

23. I recommend that everyone befriend at least one foreigner in their life, if not more. You learn so much and it really changes your perspective on a lot of things.

24. I miss my mom a lot.

25. Lyrics have become increasingly important to me.

Venting My Frustration

I just want to let you know something.

YES.
I DO like you.
And I don't know why you have to be a punk-ass about it.
Truly.
I don't know why you act like you might like me, or might not.
It makes me absolutely crazy that you can't just act like a normal human being.
Because I do like you.
I think you are cute.
Your smile is my favorite type of smile.
I want to get to know you, but that won't be POSSIBLE
given that you are NEVER around and you NEVER talk to me.
What gives?
Like, honestly?
Don't act like a effing Cassanova to me if you don't mean anything by it.
Because it will just make me sad.
BECAUSE I DO LIKE YOU.
GET IT?

The Nations.

I always get goosebumps when I hear the word 'nations.' I could not tell you why. Every time it's in a song or every time I hear it or say it or anything I get chills. Weird.

The reason I'm writing this is because I was thinking about worship. I was thinking about church, and how we all were worshiping, and as I was worshiping I thought that this was only one group of people that worship. As I realized that I was in Texas, singing in English, there are so, so many other passionate churches all around the world, singing. I'm still getting goosebumps thinking. I thought about those crazy long church services in India, where the people are so content with sitting and worshiping and singing and drinking in Jesus, or the underground church in China, where the sense of urgency to lead people to the Lord are driving the citizens to endure torture from the government, to the passionate, loud, vibrant churches in Latin American countries, like Peru or Mexico. I think of all sorts of other countries that worship, no matter how few Christians there are, Zimbabwe, Sweden, Latvia, and how they all speak their native languages, how they all cry out to their God and praise him in each of their languages. It gives me such a peace and a cool picture to know that God knows all of their cries, their prayers, their requests, be it in Latvian, Chinese, Tamil, Hindi, Bengali, Spanish, or Swedish, or whatever it is. God knows it all. In each language he knows the nuance and the little things, the slang and those words that cannot be translated. I don't know why, but this picture that God can know EACH Chinese or Indian or Latvian individually, he understands and loves them each. Each faith is different. He knows it all. There are cultures under God, but he knows them all. It's diversity and unity in one. It's personal and community in one. Only God is big enough to do that, to know all and one at the same time.
God is good.

Really Right Now.

I have a confession.

I wish I smoked.

I really, really do.

Thankfully, I was granted a modicum of common sense and will never ever proceed to inhale death, but there is something I really, really like about it. I can't explain what I think is so alluring about it but sadly, it's something that I could see myself doing. It just seems mysterious and contemplative, brooding and something that could take up my time. I think it would detract from my extreme ADD tendencies so that I could focus and actually be a productive human being.

I wonder if we still had no idea of the health risks of smoking if more people would do it. The only reason, it seems like now, is utterly appalling, is because of all of the damage it causes in someone's respiratory system. If no one knew that I totally would be smoking. Because I wouldn't know. And neither would anyone else.

I can see myself smoking. In the sexy way. Not the gross crackhead/chainsmoker way.

Really. Why do I talk?

Oh gosh.

I don't think it was wise for me to start a blog. I have entirely too many thoughts and I feel like I need to write them all down. After that first blog it got me thinking about everything. Like peace. And poverty. And secrets. I have to write about it all now. I don't know what makes me think that I have all of these great thoughts. I don't. And yet there's something in me that wants to record them all. This is a lot faster than journaling, but there's something I like so much more about journaling than this. Which doesn't seem to appear to be true, since I blogged like 10 hours ago. I guess there are some things to be blogged and others to be journaled, and sometimes both.

As of this moment I have no time to relay the main streams of thought pulsing through my brain, but soon. Someday.

First. Blog. Ever.

I do not know why I was compelled to do this. I have no idea what a blog entails, or what I'm supposed to write here. I feel paranoid writing super personal information about myself because I don't want anyone aware of my thought patterns and feelings, but then I realize that that is crap because everyone is reading them for that exact purpose.

I had about a million thoughts to put down about 30 minutes ago, and now I have nothing to say. Actually, that is a lie. I something to say about everything. I am just debating whether to share all of this simply on my blog or on other modes of electronic communication. I suppose that I could use both and share on which one I feel most compelled, but then it doesn't feel as dedicated. It feels like I don't have enough thoughts to share. But is it better to have fewer better thoughts? Or just stupid ramblings about everything, but they're all different that I can put anywhere and everywhere? I know that as of right now, I have thoughts I want to share, but I want to put them other places. Maybe I could put them on walls in public places in New York city. Or between newspapers at a coffee shop. Musings. Thoughts. Dreams. Secrets.

For the second time I saw Slumdog Millionaire and I still cannot get over how awesome that movie is. I can't really explain why I like it so much. Perhaps because of India. But I still think I would have enjoyed the movie even if I wasn't going to be spending time in the future there. But I guess that because I know I could be there later that I enjoy watching somewhat something of my "future." Not that movies are an accurate picture, certainly not, but maybe there's a bit of truth in what I see. Movies portray truths not necessarily about cultures and group, or cities and businesses, but about people. The central, core traits of people are always portrayed, and their series of actions and thoughts and transformations are always the fascinating part. Or at least they sould be. I guess. That has nothing to do with anything. Moving on.

As I was watching the movie I was thinking about the culture of India. It is fantastically complex. The caste systems and languages and dialects and history and religions weave a web of distinction that is not easily untangled. India seems rather daunting in that regard. Currently I am befriending 2 chavos y una chava de Honduras. And even as friends, as people who are willing to explain to me anything and everything about their country, thanks to their intense and inspiring pride, I still am daunted by so much I have to learn from them about how they think, culturally, what is important, culturally, what matters, culturally, and soccer. And that's not including the people themselves, the individual. I feel like I have just stuck my foot into a marvelous quagmire of new understanding, and I don't feel like I can stop learning about it. Every day I learn something new and I every day I can see into someone else's world and perspective and I don't think I really realized how rewarding that was until now. Being around everyone that thinks the same and has the same understanding, sure, is easy, and is something that I don't have to think about and I understand immediately, but that isn't the only thing that will surround me. If I am to travel the world the American mind most definitely will not serve me well in a lot of places. I can retain who I am as an American and I am certainly proud of it, but that perspective will not help me connect with people or help me understand them.

I think, however, this understanding has been made easier in the fact that I understand Spanish. Now that I think about it language is a titanic entry way into a culture. But as I think about it, I can't really explain why. As I translate what I hear it's not different from anything I'd say to my friends about anything, and yet it's such an entry way. This is a epiphany I cannot explain and have now just began to think about.

This going back to India...I'm saying that if los catrachos are this fascinating and requiring of many questions and putting my curious nature into overdrive to, when I know people and their language, how much more will I have to engage myself in a people that are so complex with languages I don't understand? I am worried that I will not be able to break through and understand them, yet I am rather looking forward to the challenge of being part of a totally different world.

This has been an entirely too long of a blog. My thoughts, musings, pensamientos.

Peace.