#30. The amount of days in (some) months.

I wasn't sure where to begin, so I changed the colour of the font. That's somewhere, right?


Summer finally came! It's boiling hot and beautiful and sweaty. I know I'm probably the only one reveling in such disgusting weather. I'd rather have to drink a thousand ounces of water and pour it back out through my pores than have to wear a thousand layers and pay a thousand dollars for heat that should come naturally.

The downside is that coffee is uncomfortable. The upside is that wine is more comfortable.

The Family now knows that I'm poking around for a new job. They asked me what my Fall plans were and I couldn't lie about them. It seems they understand but they are also being kinder than normal, possibly in attempts to convince me to stay. It's unnecessary but twice appreciated. Once because it's allowed more convenient traveling for me. Twice because it's nice to feel like they now see my value in regards to my skill with the Kids. 

I spent half the day Saturday with Aviva, Ella's speech therapist whom I can now legitimately call my friend since we've seen each other on purpose outside working hours. We just walked about downtown Silver Spring where there's a farmer's/artisan's market each Saturday. I wish I made just a tad bit more money so I could buy my vegetables at a place like that. They look so much better than the supermarket's. 

But let's be real. I wish I made more than a tad bit more. I wish I made more thousands than my years of age. 

Y'all should read A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken. It's heartwarming and heart-wrenching and a true story. I bawled for essentially an entire chapter. I don't do that. Ever. 


I've decided that my mode d'emploi for reading will follow the pattern of fiction-nonfiction-fiction and so on. I need a break from reality in order to contemplate reality. I guess I should qualify the term "fiction" though...Blah. I just mean it's simply a story to be consumed by instead of an idea or historical event/person. Right now I'm reading Surprised by Hope by N.T. Wright. Next I will read The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. Then I WILL FINISH reading The Prophetic Imagination by Walter Brueggemann (if you already have a grounded knowledge of the true definition of prophecy and how that can be a creative/disruptive force in the world, so far I'd suggest skipping this book.) Then I will read The Coalwood Way: A Memoir  by Homer Hickam, highly recommended to me by James Hart.

Oh yeah, he's still around. A lot. Which I don't mind in the least. Indeed I'd mind if he weren't around a lot. Which flashed through my mind many times while we were driving to and inside the emergency room a week and a half ago. On our way back from visiting his hometown (read: attending a party, eating good food, watching fireworks, swimming a lot, seeing and feeling natural nature) he had an asthma attack and while he was focused on taking in and pushing out air, I was focused on making sure he didn't have a torrent of tears to fight through also. My mind knew he'd be fine because it's a routine thing hospitals handle, but my heart cried out to God to keep him alive and me from collapsing in fear. 


I'd not been so frightened in a very long time. This was an old kind of fear. It was the same brand of fear that, when cellphones first came out with all those health warnings, made me want to get my brain and heart as near to the phone as my mom's was so whatever radiation she was exposed to I would also get. I didn't want to be whole if she wasn't. I didn't want to lose her. It was nearly the same as the experience with Jim, different only in the lack of codependency shown by my health and happiness being determined by hers. I did not wish difficulty breathing on myself, but I would have taken it away from him and onto myself given the chance. I guess he's important to me or something...

Yes, he certainly is. He constantly reminds me who I really am just by expecting intelligent and silly conversation from me. I do hope he does not feel shortchanged by our interactions. 

All of the technologies are teetering on the edge of death for me. Computer overheats and smells like hotglue. Cellphone turns off randomly and often won't send or receive messages. Woo.

Anyway. I hope this makes up for my month-long absence. There's little else I could do about it.

#29. Hiatus.

Hey stranger.
It's been a while.

Here's the rundown:
I'm stressing myself out to the point of headaches on account of a few things, mainly money and loans.
The job search has slowed down mightily with the ending school year.
I'm looking into getting my master's in School Counseling.
I have an amazing group of friends, including ones that care enough to check on me when I write a really depressive post (Katie Rains) and enough to listen to my vocal explosion concerning a world of newness and fear without judgment, with simple advice (Lauren Brown).
I've felt really strange recently. Odd fatigue, headaches, feeling out-of-sync and drained.
I'm going to go ahead and assume these are signs of my need for a vacation.
How convenient. I have a week off next week because the Family is visiting Family in Canada.
I like colours. And spellings colours with a "u."

I can't seem to get through a book I've been trying to read for at least a month now. It has what should be an interesting premise, but it's really not well written for the most part. I feel like it would fare better as an essay instead of a book. The author explains simple ideas too much yet skips over complexities like he's playing hopscotch. I'm 50 pages in but only because I can't stand the thought of giving up on something that has such potential. 

I need to be surrounded by nature soon, with no pressure for achieving anything. Not hiking, not viewing. Just sitting or meandering. Maybe reading or writing. Maybe, yeah, napping. And without crowds, definitely without crowds. I also really need to jump in a lake or other natural body of water. I hate pools.

I also hate the high squeal of Lily's whine. I love her. I hate her whine. 

Jim and I went frolfing on Sunday. Frisbee golfing. I'm better-than-I-expected-to-be at it. He's pretty good! Our next distinctly athletic plan is a tennis match. It'll be the opposite scenario then.

We ate at Five Guys after our 27-hole game and split a Mint Chocolate Chip Klondike bar. We've pretty much decided to counter healthy with unhealthy/nonsensical on a usual basis.

#28. Precisely.

This was the Goodreads quote of the day a couple days ago.

"The thing that makes you exceptional, if you are at all, is inevitably that which must also make you lonely." -Lorraine Hansberry

I've known for a while that I'm different, unusual. In Christianese, set apart. I am. God sees me, sees me. He's chosen me for some task, some life, some identity. I've no idea what task or what life. I've an idea of the identity. I feel different, distant from almost everyone I've ever known. Readers, you'll know if you're one of the exceptions. 

I feel alone a lot. Well, more like misunderstood and discounted. Overpriced. Undervalued. Plain out used. I've felt the unfortunate kind of grey for a long time. 

Grey is my favorite color. It complements everything, and yes, I mean complements. It can be warm or cool, the focus or the background. But people tend to make assumptions about it. Grey is not (always) morose or foreboding or practical. Grey is not (always) cold, unfeeling, uncomfortable. 

The same assumptions come with my name and demeanor for some, for about half of my acquaintances I'd think. I am a lot of things. I am not one-sided. 

I am feeling a bit gloomy and forlorn today. I feel alone in my convictions about what church is. I feel alone in my youthful discernment. I feel doubted and cheapened because of my employment and lifestyle and again, my youth. 

But I don't know what it is that makes me exceptional, not really. I have my guesses. I am insightful. I see people clearly. I know what I believe and why. I know Who I believe. My heart longs for truth and real beauty and honest goodness. Some other things probably. 

But it doesn't feel like that adds up to "exceptional."  Does it?

#27. The Oddest Thing.

I have a job interview in the morning!   !!!

It's with a Montessori school in D.C. and I'd be a teacher's assistant in their year-round program. The Montessori philosophy of learning and teaching is very close to what I want to have in a community center one day: curiosity-driven and individually-decided. Working with very tiny-ones aging somewhere around kindergarten. That's a new field for me and I'm looking forward to adding those skills to my belt o' knowledge. I was going to say "belt o' weapons" but considering recent events...better not.

Even though I just did. 

I ran my second-ever 5k on Saturday afternoon. It happened to also be my second-ever Color Run, this time in Baltimore. Who knew that city was only 50 minutes from me anyway? Crazy. I ran the whole thing and was definitely not Caucasian when it was over. I would've looked more at home on Pandora (Avatar, anyone? Anyone? Love that movie. Don't care if it's a revamp of Pocahontas because I like that one too.)

Jim and I saw "The Great Gatsby" on Saturday also. I liked it. Not enough to see it again soon, but that's fairly much attributed to it holding true to the book. Don't expect happy. Don't expect good human beings. Expect chaos and glorious colors and motions and music. Leonardo DiCaprio was perfectly attractive and grotesque in the title role. Tobey Maguire's persistent on-screen awkwardness did him a favor in his depiction of Nick Carraway. Depth of character was on the minds of the correct few people. 

We sat on a bench in the park talking until it got too chilly. Repeat on Sunday evening, after which we watched the tail end of the Survivor finale. Malcolm should've made it to the end and won everything but Cochran deserved it as well, on different merits. 

Sunday was a do-nothing day. I read almost an entire Harry Potter book. I sat. I listened to the Yo-Yo Ma station on Pandora (this time the radio website, not the planet) and relaxed. Time was irrelevant and that was beautiful. 

And Jim said "fixin' to" and that was priceless and proof that the South wins life.

The oddest thing happened to me Friday morning. I woke up. I know I was awake. God told me something insightful and clear. I started reveling in it and celebrating the communication. And then...it left. It just left. How does that happen? One second I know know KNOW and the next it was taken from me. It frustrated me all day. I eventually decided that if He wants me to remember or hear it again, He'll make that happen. I kept asking for revelation with no opening-of-doors in answer. I do hope He speaks again soon.

#26. Nothing, really.

It's been, what, three or four days since my last post?

Loads of earth-shattering occurrences have occurred. 

Not really.

Well, I did ride a ferry for the first time ever today. That counts, right? I even drove my car onto it. 

The job search is on and poppin'. I've sent out somewhere around 7 emails containing resumés and cover letters and pleas for employment. But I'd be lying to you if I said I felt hopeful about any of them in particular. 

I'm entering that phase (again) where I forget how much I love talking with kids and playing with them and having the opportunity to make wise decisions affecting them. I forget that my ideas are valid and more than that, good.

I remember camp life like it's a different reality. In some ways it was (is.) I don't think I want it back. I want the freedom, passion, and challenge of it back. I want those people geographically near me again, even though I think this time of separation is necessary. I have learned about who I am apart from the predetermined definitions of Stacy that come along with first, second, third, and fourth summers at Look Up.

I now know that I am, in truth, myself. Who I became in the context of my past is who I sincerely am. No pretext, no façade.

I do not try to hide how insecure and weak I feel most days. It just takes some insight for others to be able to see it because I don't put it on display either. [I still wrestle constantly with the thought that I am nothing special, that I am ordinary in the most plain sense, and that those who see me don't truly see me. Once they do, they'll leave and move on to other (prettier/smarter/funnier/more spontaneous/prettier) people.]

Imagine how that fear winds itself in seemingly indestructible ways throughout my relationship with Jim. It's a fight, a real fight, for me to believe him and to believe the sincerity, honesty, and integrity of his actions and words. I absolutely hate that. He doesn't deserve my selfish doubt. 

We went hiking today. It was lovely and good. 

#25. The end of a quarter.

I didn't just survive this weekend. I thoroughly enjoyed every moment after the first.

The first moment was nervous and shaky and heart-poundy.

[In case you've forgotten, I met Jim's parents (and one set of neighbors) this weekend.]

If I described it as anything besides both needed and good I'd be cheapening the experience with flowery language. I needed a couple of days of unscheduled (semi)activity with easygoing people. Would my natural leanings have taken me southward to Lauren and Ben and Chris and Matt and Travis and Katie and Laura and Ryan and Nathan and his Laura and Jamal and Andrew Sims and hannaH and Emily and Lacey and Kevin and their Ones and everyone else to whom my heart is so intricately tied? Yes. But I was surprised at how comfortable I felt so soon after having met Mr. and Mrs. Hart. 

Jim told me later that they were trying very hard to make me feel at home. It worked.

He also told me that his parents must have talked about me coming to visit. Otherwise those same neighbors would have stayed for dinner when asked instead of going back across the road. Bonus: they overtly approved of me and have since asked when I'll be returning to that neck of the woods.

And woods they are. I never would have pictured anywhere in Maryland looking like that and seeming so similar to where I grew up and where I've lived. It doesn't feel the same though. I will never hesitate to say that you can literally feel the South. You know when you're there and you know when you've left. 

I expressed a couple of my fears to Jim, and I should have known how quickly he would speak to quell them. I needed him to know, to really know, that I am not entirely secure all the time. That I am broken but being mended. I get scared a lot. Fear tends to have the face of apathy, unrighteous anger, false hurt, or simply pretending I am uncertain about a situation. 

For instance: Apathy is ruling my school applications. I'm afraid of not getting accepted (again) or worse, getting accepted and not being able to pay for it.

I've chosen my two writing sample submissions. I need to reread them and edit them. I'm afraid they aren't up to standard. I wrote them in 2010. I think I'd write differently now, but even if I wrote something else, there's no grading system to tell me how well I've done or what improvements are needed. Drs. Volk and Jennings aren't here to alternate praise with criticism.

There's loads more I could say about the weekend. I don't want to. I will however say that if you get a chance to watch Life of Pi, do it. It's lovely.

I will also say that I can't get one of my conversations from Wedding Weekend out of my head. Chris Hunt, if you read this, you should know how deeply I respect you as my first AP, an encourager of my growth, and as a friend. Having you express trust in my judgments and decisions (in my personal life and as they pertained to the wedding) has provided a lift to my spirit recently. Thank you, sincerely.

Happy Tuesday y'all. 

#24. Conveniently, 24.

I turned 24 on Monday. It was probably the least flat-out celebrating I've done in ever. I was mostly recovering and driving and recovering and recovering.


This weekend was Wedding Weekend. Lindsey Gahan is now Lindsey Black and Andrew has a wife. They are individually lovely, fervently in love, and lovely together. They bring out the tenderness and courage in one another, or rather, they enhance it. 

Now I have some tenderness in my shoulders thanks to the knots that've formed from self-imposed stress. I don't think I took a full breath on Sunday until around 10pm, at which point I was asked what it was like to be having a drink with one of my campers. Calm down. He's now my former co-worker and primarily my close friend. 

There are spans of a couple hours that I don't even remember. Even on Saturday. We truly did hit the ground runnin'. 

Oh yes, we. Jim and I. He got put to work almost immediately. Fortunately he was a good sport about it, and his willingness to serve had the added effect of making a deep impression on everyone. Plus he's funny and clever and outgoing and quirky and smart and handsome and tall. Plus (or minus) he came attached to me. He fit in so well there, loved camp's scenery and people, and loved downtown Greenville as soon as he saw it. We decided that it was designed for relaxation and walked through Falls Park before heading an ugly amount of hours north.

He passed the Look Up test. Extravagantly. I was urged again and again to keep him. I reckon I will, if I'm lucky. 

It was brilliantly and poignantly satisfying to see each of my framily (and family) members. I love them more dearly than I can ever express. What a thing it is to know and be known. 

Leftover information:
Job interview Friday morning.
Non-specific plans to go hiking with Aviva (Ella's speech therapist) and her precious baby Maya and her friend Danica. 
Going to meet Jim's family and friends this weekend. 
I have rice, black beans, and green beans as my food supply at the moment. That's it.
I need to go grocery shopping. 
I want the Summer. Soon.
Jim now knows about this space of mind-expression. Poor guy.
I already miss y'all.