Lumberjacks

So, yeah. Moved and settled in. I didn't have the reaction I expected to. This is a good thing.

Living in the Spanish house. I expect my Spanish to improve a bit. Everyone's really nice. I think we'll get a long and it will be a good house. I'm missing the mandatory meeting tomorrow because I have to go down to Baltimore and record. Not too excited about that. I don't mind, but I just don't feel like driving to Baltimore.

I didn't go to church today. I wanted to and I feel bad for not doing so, but I feel if I'm going to go somewhere I need to plan where I'm going ahead of time. Good news is, though, that my attitude towards church (or should I say churches) is changing. Not necessarily my thoughts, but my attitude. Meaning while I still may think flaky theology kills growth, cold modernism kills joy, and the best way to be slain in the spirit is to be convicted of your sin (and the best response is to repent and do it no more, and perhaps you should do this in the privacy of your home, unless of course you're confessing your sin), I'm not so sure being negative about particular churches or about church in general is a good way to go.

That isn't to say we couldn't stand to clean up our houses of worship.

Anyway...

The Honors picnic--where were the drinks? I was really, really thirsty.

(Yeah, so I deleted a bunch of stuff here. It was getting really personal. Sorry. And now I'm teasing you by telling you I deleted it.)

But the day ended well, and that was good. Whit and I tried to sing The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow, but we couldn't remember the words. We witnessed the demonstration of a vibrating alarm. Something about lumberjacks.

I'm back at school and I'm blogging. Aren't you excited? (I need to go back to putting up poems and stories and the like...)

Not a poem

(Wow, this thing is getting updated.)

The number of possibilities (we're talking about the future here) is sheerly frightening. When possibility becomes choice, then it becomes exciting. We have not reached exciting yet.

I hear the movement of a clock.

I don't want to go back to school. Scratch that. I don't want to move back on campus. I mean, if I do my math right, adding up all the parts, then I should at least come out with a positive number, something above zero, but it's just not happening.

Maybe it's just transition woes (see! there's the optimist in me speaking!). Maybe I need to actually start packing. Maybe I actually need to do things, like, I don't know, buying school supplies. But I think that requires motivation.

In other news...

I finished four measures of my dulcimer arrangement of "All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands." Like you care.

Maybe next time I'll have a poem or a story up or something. Maybe not.