Friday, December 19, 2008

Yes, Books are Heavy

Today I moved out of my college dorm. Packing was interesting. I found a lot of things in my room that I didn't know I had. Most of these previously unknown items materialized in the form of old M&M's packages, one sock, and several bags of Twizzlers. There was also the ten dollar bill, but I won't mention that.

Besides all that, I sold my books for ridiculously cheap prices at the bookstore. It's so hard parting with books. My life consisted of them for the past few months, and now someone else's life will consist of them. It's interesting.

At any rate, I was trying to carry the books that I kept (the larger ones that I actually rented) down four flights of stairs. Yes, I live on the forth floor, and there is no elevator. I decided to put the multiple pounds of books into a flimsy grocery sack. I then proceeded to carry it down the stairs along with a suitcase and several other item-filled grocery sacks.

I made it to the bottom of the stairs and had to stop, because it felt like the bag with the books was breaking. I didn't want to put down the rest of my bags, because I didn't feel like I could lift them again. I still had a ways to walk to my car, and I couldn't open the door of the building.

Then this random guy came along from behind me. He just kind of appeared, and said the best words ever:

"Hey miss, let me carry that for you."

He was so nice, and carried that ridiculously heavy sack all the way to the car, and tried to talk to me too. On one hand, I was worried he was a serial killer or something, and would steal my car. On the other, I thought that all guys should be like him.

But anyway, that is all. Nothing else happened. So why am I talking about this?

It's the little things in life that matters. I will remember that random guy for quite some time. If you see someone who needs help, just help them.

Because, yes, books are heavy. I figured that out today.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Ignore the Flames Billowing out of the Oven

Well, I just remembered that I have a blog, and I thought I would update it, just so I can sit back, feel smart, and tell myself I have an updated blog.

As some of you may or may not know, my mom is in the hospital (and has been for 16 days now), so life has been interesting as of late. Rather interesting indeed. It means I need to do all the cooking (Katherine would set the house on fire). It is rather adventurous, as witnessed by the story which is chroniclized below.

Yesterday, I was making this incredible chicken dish I found in my amazing Cooking with Four Ingredients cookbook. I was making the chicken, and it was cooking in the oven sitting in a sauce of French Onion soup, soy sauce, and sour cream (it actually was really good). I went to get it out of the oven, and my linguine began to boil over. Startled, I dropped one end of the chicken dish into the oven, causing the sauce in it to spill out into the oven. Odd, grey, smoke-like air began to rush out of the oven. In fact, I believe it was smoke.

Actually, I nearly started a fire.

If you know me at all, you may or may not know I love cooking and baking. Now, however, I can truly say I almost caught something on fire. A rush of pride, of course, accompanies that statement.

All great chefs have caught something on fire. Right?


Wednesday, October 31, 2007


And so, dear readers, here we are again, with an entire post ahead of us. I actually have a topic I would like to discuss, simply because it is not discussed very often. I shall open with some literature by one of my favorite authors, Edith Wharton. The excerpt itself is from one of her short stories, The Valley of Childish Things:

A man once married a charming young person who agreed with him on every question. At first they were very happy, for the man thought his wife the most interesting companion he had ever met, and they spent their days telling each other what wonderful people they were. But by and by the man began to find his wife rather tiresome. Wherever he went she insisted upon going; whatever he did, she was sure to tell him that it would have been better to do the opposite; and moreover, it gradually dawned upon him that his friends had never thought so highly of her as he did. Having made this discovery, he naturally felt justified in regarding himself as the aggrieved party; she took the same view of her situation, and their life was one of incessant recrimination.
Finally, after years spent in violent quarrels and short-lived reconciliations, the man grew weary, and decided to divorce his wife.
He engaged an able lawyer, who assured him that he would have no difficulty in obtaining a divorce; but to his surprise, the judge refused to grant it.
"But -- " said the man, and he began to recapitulate his injuries.
"That's all very true," said the judge, "and nothing would be easier than for you to obtain a divorce if you had only married another person."
"What do you mean by another person?" asked the man in astonishment.
"Well," replied the judge, "it appears that you inadvertently married yourself; that is a union no court has the power to dissolve."
"Oh, said the man; and he was secretly glad, for in his heart he was already longing to make it up again with his wife.

Now, I firmly believe Edith Wharton just discovered the secret to many of America's failed marriages. Let us examine the main points of the story.

1. The man in the story married his wife because he thought she was an "interesting companion."
2. The man tired of his wife once the thrill of marrying her was gone.
3. He then tried to rid himself of his wife.
4. The man in question actually married himself, according to the wise judge.

The major problem of the man was that he entered into a self-centered relationship. By marrying someone who made him feel good about himself ("they spent their days telling each other what wonderful people they were"), he married out of pure self-centeredness.

This is the major problem of today's relationships. Guy/girl "dating" relationships nowadays tend to be wholly self-centered; they make both the parties involved feel good about themselves. I'll even admit myself that being in a relationship is exciting. In a relationship, one tends to spend time wrapped up in a cozy, sharp blanket of emotional belonging, giggling with friends (well, if you're on the female side, lol), and thinking of the thrill of being with the other person.

When that thrill is gone, what is that relationship built upon? Nothing. That is why it fails; it has no foundation.

And, thus, what is that foundation? God (I'll wager you didn't see that coming, lol). So many people in relationships rely on the other person to make them feel happy, to make them feel loved, to make them feel wanted. But God can supply all that. If one does not first rely upon and trust God, one can never love properly. I am firm in my conviction of this.

That is one reason why I strive to build my relationship with God. We must know His perfect, selfless love before we can ever love others. When people ask why I currently don't date, that is what I tell them. I am growing in my relationship with God. I think dating would disract me from that, but that is another story altogether. At any rate, too many of today's dating relationships are based on self, and not God.

That thought concludes this post. I want to devote some posts to dating and the like, simply because it is rarely discussed (especially in homeschool circles). :-) And so, until we meet again, dear reader, goodbye.

(hehe. Being dramatic is fun. Oh, and please post comments. What do you think about dating?)

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Oh, hello. Welcome to my blog, where the reader shall experience thought-provoking tales, classical literature, and manical ramblings. I wholeheartedly wish that you will enjoy them as much as I do.

Now, you may or may not be wondering about two things. If you are wondering about them, I shall expound on them. If you were not, well, then I shall expound on them anyway.

"A dream within a dream" and "pilgrim soul" are two phrases that come from my two favorite poems in all the world. The former is by Edgar A. Poe; the latter, W.B Yeats.

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

I will wager you guessed that poem was by Poe. It is, in fact, one of two poems of his that I love. And now for When You are Old by Yeats:

WHEN you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

Yes, for some, love seems to hide among a crowd of stars.

I <3 poetry.