An old favorite.

“The thing still seemed impossible. But gradually something happened to him which had happened to him only twice before in his life. It happened once while he was trying to make up his mind to do a very dangerous job in the last war. It had happened again while he was screwing his resolution to go and see a certain man in London and make to him an excessively embarrassing confession which justice demanded. In both cases the thing had seemed a sheer impossibility: he had not thought but known that, being what he was, he was psychologically incapable of doing it; and then, without any apparent movement of the will, as objective and unemotional as the reading on a dial, there had arisen before him, with perfect certitude, the knowledge ‘about this time tomorrow you will have done the impossible.’ The same thing happened now. His fear, his shame, his love, all his arguments, were not altered in the least. The thing was neither more nor less dreadful than it had been before. The only difference was that he knew– almost as a historical proposition– that it was going to be done. He might beg, weep, or rebel– might curse or adore– sing like a martyr or blaspheme like a devil. It made not the slightest difference. The thing was to be done.”

So let’s skip all of my regrets of not having written in a few months and get right to the good part.

Back-story: I’m support-raising this summer and taking 5 independent online Bible classes and can’t seem to find a good, quiet place to get some letters and studying done.

So I’m at the library, and things seem to be going PERFECT. No one knows me there, and if they do, they don’t care. There’s a large desk where I can plug in my computer, connect to wireless, spread out my books and papers, and not bother anyone.

On my left, there are two teen-aged girls tutoring two younger girls in math. On my right are children’s DVD’s. In front of me is the main desk, and behind me is this black dude with a brief case. Are you with me?

Suddenly, this woman. lol This woman in a blue shirt. Long, curly brown hair, heavy-set. She starts talking REALLY loud to the librarian at the front desk. The teenagers start laughing at her a little bit. It goes on for a long time, and finally the guy behind me is like “SSSSSSH!” I sneak a peek at her over my cubicle, and she yells out, “Thank God you’re not MY roommate! Hahahaha!” I turn around and look at the guy behind me and laugh a little bit to ease the rising tension in his demeanor. He relaxes a little and says to me and everyone else around, “I don’t think she has an inside voice.” He sighs and goes back to work. Blue shirt calms down a little bit for a while.

Then I notice this guy. He looks around my age. He takes his son over to the DVD’s and says

“Hey! You like CHOO CHOOS! You wanna CHOO CHOO MOVIE??! ” Kid says, “Oh I LOVE CHOO CHOO!”

Dad says, “You love CHOO CHOO?” GOOD!

Kid: I LOVE CHOO CHOO!

Dad: You LOVE CHOO CHOO??
Kid: Yeah. I love dem.

Dad: It makes me so happy that you love CHOO CHOO.

Me: *Sigh* Me, too.

Kid: I love CHOO CHOO.

Me: Oh my gosh.

Dad: Let’s go home and watch CHOO CHOO, okay!?

Kid: I LOVE CHOO CHOO!

Finally, when those two split, Blue shirt lady is at it again. By this time, the math kids have given up. They have gone. Blue shirt is walking all around and finally tells a lady that is helping her kid pick out a DVD, “HA! Thank God I’m not YOUR roommate!” and walks away. Mom lady looks at her and says, “What?”

“Thank God you’re not her roommate,” I relayed.

The lady stopped and looked around confused, and then angry. She goes, “Really??” under her breath. Black dude and I realize in that moment that Blue shirt did not know mom lady. He yells after Mom, “She’s CUCKOO! She’s CRAZY!” I start packing up my things, finally surrenduring to circumstance. I turn around to face the man with the briefcase. “Well, it’s been real.” But lo. He wants to chat.

“Hey. You know, if she just said that to the wrong person, she could get hurt,” he said.

“Yeah, well it’s times like these that I’m glad we don’t live in NYC or something. Then she’d really be in danger.”

“Seriously. That’s where I’m from.”

“I figured.”

“Where I come from, people wait all year for someone to act like that so they can use it as an excuse to mess them up.”

“Heh, yeah. Well, I gotta go. I’ll be seein ya…I…”

Brief case guy’s not done.

“You know, I was under the impression that libraries were supposed to be quiet.”

“Well I guess this one’s an exception.” lol

I go over to the DVDs to see if they’ve got anything besides Alfred Hitchcock, Star Trek, and Miss Marple movies, and there’s Blue shirt’s kid. He runs right into me, appologizes, then says, (I’m not making this up) “MOM! Can we check out One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest!?” I will not go into the fact that this film is not for kids. It’s barely even for me.

I run over to briefcase guy and exclaim, “They’re checking out ’One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’! How ironic! Just thought you’d like to know!”

Returning my excitement he replied, “The librarian just told me she’s a ‘regular’ here! What the heck!”

We had a good laugh then said our goodbyes. And that’s why I got NO work done at the library today.

A couple of weeks ago, some of us packed up some blankets and mattresses to go sleeping under the stars one last time together before we part ways for the summer. Our favorite spot is a landmark called “Pretty Place.”

For those of you that aren’t cheering at the very mention of its name, Pretty Place is a stone chapel that was carved out the side of a mountain. We like to climb out on its ledge and sing and tell stories all night, then watch the sun rise the following morning. On my last time following through with this precious tradition, I couldn’t shake a heavy sadness that made me feel I would never have moments like these after leaving Clemson.

God has called me to move on to Fayetteville, Arkansas, and preparing for that has been scary and painful and just plain out of my comfort zone!

So there I was, waiting for the sun to rise. Now. When you are sitting on that rock in Pretty Place, let me make two things clear to you.

One. During the night, you cannot see anything but the sparkling city lights to the right, and of course the moon.

I remember sitting there almost wishing that the sun would not rise so that the last camping trip would not be over so soon. Imagine! Wishing for a sunrise never to come! I stared at the glittering town below, the stars in the sky, the moon. I didn’t want that to go away because I would never see it like this anymore. I’m moving away from Pretty Place.

I always have this creepy imposing desire to make time stand still. I told myself that I was being awkward and needed to just enjoy the morning like everyone else, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want the sun to rise! I didn’t!

Two. When the sun finally shows its first flame on the left, it illuminates the entire valley, revealing a view with tons more depth, distance, and best of all, colors! As soon as this landscape was revealed, I felt even sillier for wishing it wouldn’t come. Now I could see how high up we were. I could see all the little hills and trees, and the sky turned all kinds of beautiful!

God designed my personality to be very passionate and appreciative of every moment I spent with those I love. I know this. I come from a very emotional family and am easily the most nostalgic, sentimental girl you will ever meet. However, sometimes I think Satan uses that to make me fear the loss of the stars so much that I miss the sunrise. Arkansas is the next part of my life. For all I know, the things I’ve learned in Clemson are merely the basics. Don’t get me wrong. Stars are breathtaking, and the night lights are mesmerizing. But there’s so much depth in my life that I can’t see yet, and I know it. Perhaps God is bursting at the seams to ignite the sunrise in my life, and all I can think of is trying to freeze time. How shameful.

I don’t know if any of you struggle with “moving on,” but I fear it very much. God revealed to me at Pretty Place that life is far too beautiful to waste time on those sorts of anxieties when all He wants to do is show you a brighter, more profound exquisiteness than the one before. Class of 2009 [and Erin], let’s pwn this year! That’s what He’s saying, I bet. ^_^

This is the city to the right I was telling you about! Suzy took this photo. Well done, Sue!

Now imagine this. Plus INFINITY more watts of prettiness!!!Praise the Lord that the sunrises anyway.

*Sigh*

Sometimes I do dishes simply because it’s one less thing I have to wait and pray about.

Lol I wish. It would definitely get the most hits on YouTube. So here’s the rundown of my Thanksgiving. I’m going to be as brief as possible. My sister Erica, best friend Christine and I head out to Charleston to help with that Feed the homeless thing. Exboyfriend is there. I talk to a homeless guy that says he knows Tupac’s mama and Oprah. Younger homeless guy starts getting too friendly so I decide it’s time to be going. We rush home to eat. Good food. Mom’s retarded chihuahua finds ALL the turkey grease dad dumped out in the yard and gobbles it down. Diarrhea all over my room. It stinks. I sleep on the couch to avoid the sick dog doo doo smell. Clemson SPANKS USC (yay!) Erica and I watch “Snoopy Come Home,” and it once again touches my heart. That evening, after having burned scented candles in my room all day, I look forward to sleeping in my fancy bed mom got me AFTER I moved out. (Go figure that one out.) Mom comes in at like 3 am or something, flips the light on, and starts scrubbing the floor again and ranting about how dad DEFINITELY poisoned Ralphy on purpose with the turkey grease out in the field. Next thing I remember she calls me to get up around 6:45 am for church. *Sigh* We had a nice time at church, mom and dad treat me to lunch and tank of gas. (Yay again!) I head back to my house in Clemson. And that’s how it all went down. Mmhm.

PS: I’m now sitting warm in my lovely house now with candles lit, Christmas music, and the french toast my mom sent home with me. It’s tres cozy, and I just wanted someone to know how happy that makes me.

If you think I’m gonna post an election blog you’ve got another thing coming. You can just forget it. It’s so overdone and I think you already know good and well what’s up.

With love and hugs,

Erin

I’m at my home this weekend to vote, support raise, visit family, etc.

I had a meeting with some people that are even further from civilization than my parents, and their son had built a fort in the woods that he really wanted me to see. I told him I’d follow him out there if he promised it was not too far because I had to be going soon. He promised it was right on the edge of the woods, but I didn’t trust him because of past babysitting experiences…etc. He can be a sly one!

We trampled through his favorite mud bogging hole and entered the wooded area. I noticed that the woods here smell a bit different than Clemson woods and enjoyed remembering what it was like playing in the woods when I was a little girl. (Cause I did!!! I’m not too girly to do that contrary to popular belief!)

Anyway, I told him that we were getting pretty deep into the woods, and that it better be right ahead or I’m turning back. He said that is was. I said that it most certainly wasn’t because I didn’t see it. I followed after him as he answered, “Yes, it is, Erin. You just don’t know it because you’ve never seen it.” Sure enough, a super-cool shelter appeared right before my eyes as I nearly walked into the thing. Darn you, camoflage! >.<

As you know, it’s easy to get freaked out about the future. I do it at least two and a half times a day. Especially when you have to just follow someone blindly. You have no idea how long you have to wait or how far you have to go or how dirty you have to get. Sometimes God’s plan for you is about to explode any second, but you have no idea what it looks like cause you’ve never seen it. I want to tell anyone who reads this to keep following– even when the end is not in sight.

Nothing says “I really wanna recover from a cold before Friday’s campout” like cinnamon toast crunch and a good movie. So I picked an old classic that was actually the very first movie my mother ever took me to see in the theatre. The movie poster was pinned to my wall by my bed til I was like…7 or 13 or so.

You Guessed It.

So I thought this would be kind of a feel-good movie after a rough day, but I’m gonna be honest with you– I was kinda wrong. It’s 12:30 am and I gotta tell ya I’m left feeling a little disconcerted and rather shocked at the fact that Mom was completely fine with taking a three-year-old to this acid trip of a movie. (There’s this part when Charlie dreams he went to hell instead, and this satan-dog comes out and aaaw…I’m pretty sure he’ll haunt my dreams tonight). Stephen King has nothing on Don Bluth films and that’s all I have to say about that.

So here’s to hoping I feel better tomorrow.

PS: Say a prayer for my roommate. Her grandma died today.

In other news, today was also very important because I got a fan put in my bathroom. This sounds like it’s so not a big deal, but let me tell you why it is.

Do you see this?

One time, I found one of these growing in a crevice outside my tub. You see, there are no vents in my bathroom whatsoever. No central air, no fan, nothing. Everything stays damp all day. I know you don’t believe me, but just go with it. I couldn’t really believe it either, so I poked it, and plucked it out, and sure enough, a real life bathroom mushroom harvest all my own. Few days later, I come in to see that it has returned triumphantly, almost laughing at me. *Sigh* I decided at this point that I was kind of proud of this mushroom for God knows what reason and wanted to take a picture of it, but my roommate got rid of it while I was out of the room. I don’t know what she did to the thing, but it never grew back. And it probably never will cause our landlord had a fan put in today. Yaaaaay! Now do you see why I’m cheering?

PS: DO NOT JUDGE ME!!!! I am a really, really good house keeper!!! ASK ANYONE! My house is just extremely old, and I’m still learning its quirks. Mom, I really do clean it well. Trust me.