When I've found the right man, shouldn't the world make a bit more sense?
Shouldn't I feel more settled, because everything seems right, seems at peace?
--
If I like someone, and there are looming big questions, and these questions prompt deep, continued conversation, and it seems that these big questions must be resolved even before we kiss... Do all these big "issues" mean that I should not take time to become emotionally involved with him?
It's one in the morning, and I'm contemplative. I have no answers, and my intuition seems murky.
Post comments below please -
December 31, 2010
December 15, 2010
Personal value. Love. Orphanages in Ecuador. Sharing Jesus.
A recent letter I wrote to her -
---
I think it little coincidence that the day I choose to reply to you is the day I happen to read the chapter in Blue like Jazz about loving yourself.
"The key to everything rests in the ability to receive love... I had no peace. I was clingy, always wanting affection and approval."
It says that one cannot truly love others if they're not loving themselves. And the only way to really love yourself is to realize how God sees you, and how he loves you.
Who or what chooses my personal value?
Do I allow my mom or my boss or statistics or accomplishments or titles determine my worth? Do I let little nasty jabs from friends 10 years ago continue to fester, telling me I will not ever amount to anything?
Do I choose to allow my internal or immediate circumstances to determine my value? Of how much I accomplished that day or staying depressed in my overwhelmed state? What about my tremendous physical illness? Does the way I physically feel, and the medical diagnoses I have determine my value?
Somewhere in there I'm supposed to "hear" God. To know He exists. I know he exists. And to know he really really cares about ME - me. I don't know that he really cares about me. I know that he is good to me, that he has richly blessed me, that he has intervened on my behalf - But I don't know how this is personal on his end.
THANK YOU for caring.
 | |
| Merry Christmas! (It's 2 a.m. Be nice.) |
My blog just surpassed 10,000 views.
That's rather astonishing, to be frank. 4,800 individual people have visited my site.
I encourage you to comment on any blogs you read - your reflections are always welcome in my life!
And it makes me feel good. :)
Cheers and love,
-r
In Love (?)
I wrote this blog last summer.
But I wasn't emotionally ready to share it...
My heart is in a different place now. Further along on my path, I hope.
Please comment.
----
But I wasn't emotionally ready to share it...
My heart is in a different place now. Further along on my path, I hope.
Please comment.
----
Disorganized musings from a hurting girl
Love.
There is a man that I know.
I love him.
- It is nighttime. I sit on the second story deck in the dark as the rain pounds down hard, splashing back up on my face. -
He is perfect; yet he and I both know he is not perfect. In fact, a few times we discussed his weaknesses and faults. It was a good talk.
I haven't seen him in months. I don't know when I will see him again. And that's ok. But it... it's difficult.
He treasures me. He tells me he loves me, even after I dump out the words describing the things I like least about myself. He reassures me when I feel weak or confused. He knows when to hold me close. Except that we are not close. He is not with me, he cannot hold me, and I am left simply knowing that he would if he could.
I haven't written a song in almost ten years. But one night some months ago I wrote a song. Because I was hurting, and I wanted to tell him that he was foolish for not chasing me with all his being. It's the type of song with a fast beat and happy-sounding melody, but intense words calling for attention and agreement from both the audience and the foolish boy. I wrote the song lyrics in my journal. Some parts are scratched out because they didn't fit the tempo. And the pages are warped from all my crying while I wrote. I don't know when I'll be able to look at the song again.
- Tears trail down my chin and drip onto my hands. I wipe my nose and take a deep gulp of red wine, muffling my sob. -
I choose to not see him. We choose to not see each other, better said.
You see, we simply cannot be. We cannot be because, albeit an amazing connection, albeit we feed each other energy and feed off each other all while remaining independent, well, we cannot be because something is missing.
That knowing.
Love.
There is a man that I know.
I love him.
- It is nighttime. I sit on the second story deck in the dark as the rain pounds down hard, splashing back up on my face. -
He is perfect; yet he and I both know he is not perfect. In fact, a few times we discussed his weaknesses and faults. It was a good talk.
I haven't seen him in months. I don't know when I will see him again. And that's ok. But it... it's difficult.
He treasures me. He tells me he loves me, even after I dump out the words describing the things I like least about myself. He reassures me when I feel weak or confused. He knows when to hold me close. Except that we are not close. He is not with me, he cannot hold me, and I am left simply knowing that he would if he could.
I haven't written a song in almost ten years. But one night some months ago I wrote a song. Because I was hurting, and I wanted to tell him that he was foolish for not chasing me with all his being. It's the type of song with a fast beat and happy-sounding melody, but intense words calling for attention and agreement from both the audience and the foolish boy. I wrote the song lyrics in my journal. Some parts are scratched out because they didn't fit the tempo. And the pages are warped from all my crying while I wrote. I don't know when I'll be able to look at the song again.
- Tears trail down my chin and drip onto my hands. I wipe my nose and take a deep gulp of red wine, muffling my sob. -
I choose to not see him. We choose to not see each other, better said.
You see, we simply cannot be. We cannot be because, albeit an amazing connection, albeit we feed each other energy and feed off each other all while remaining independent, well, we cannot be because something is missing.
That knowing.
December 14, 2010
Easy: 60 seconds to write to our troops
(shameless copy-paste blog)
Note: I don't usually pass these along, but thought it was a worthwhile cause. It is not meant to imply that I agree with any of the conflicts we are currently engaged in, but that we do need to support our troops regardless of our personal opinion.
If you go to this web site, www.LetsSayThanks.com you can pick out a thank you card and Xerox will send it to a soldier that is serving overseas. You can't pick out who gets it, but it will go to a member of the armed services.
How AMAZING it would be if we could get everyone we know to send one!!! It is FREE and it only takes about 60 seconds. Wouldn't it be wonderful if the soldiers received a bunch of these? Whether you are for or against the war, our soldiers over there need to know we are behind them.
Please take the time and please take the time to pass it on for your friends to participate as well.
Cheers-
r
November 29, 2010
Reason # 25: Fantastic Christmas Gift IDEA!
This is the first email of two offering you a fantastic gift idea for Christmas.
Give your family a gift which will touch countless.
I encourage you to talk to your family about not giving gifts to one another, but instead supporting life-changing, soul-saving, hope-giving friends in China.
Matt, Hallie, and their delightful daughters live full time in China. They love, laugh, serve, cry, and sometimes suffer as everyone does while living abroad. I've known Matt for over a decade, and cannot highly enough vouch for his character.
They are really busy doing "really good things." I'm not allowed to share about most of what they do in a blog or email, but if you contact me, I would love to share more about their "endeavors." Their stories are more than entertaining and breathtaking - the way they give of their lives are sobering, profound, and entirely humbling.
Please FaceBook Share this... Button is located in the right column.
Why donate to this family? How will the money be spent?
As unconventional as it may sound, these workers need a car.
1. The work that they do requires safe transportation for people and materials. (Ask me for details.)
2. They have some employees that need to safely make trips to villages and other areas for trainings and meetings.
3. The amount of time that will be saved from not taking public transportation will will enable them to add about 10 full weeks of work next year.
4. Family needs - convenience, safety, weather, privacy, etc... Right now the four of them ride around on a large motorcycle.
5. They have recently been given permission to open a home outside of their city for orphaned/abandoned Children. A vehicle is a pivotal factor to move forward with that possibility.
As unconventional as it may sound, these workers need a car.
1. The work that they do requires safe transportation for people and materials. (Ask me for details.)
2. They have some employees that need to safely make trips to villages and other areas for trainings and meetings.
3. The amount of time that will be saved from not taking public transportation will will enable them to add about 10 full weeks of work next year.
4. Family needs - convenience, safety, weather, privacy, etc... Right now the four of them ride around on a large motorcycle.
5. They have recently been given permission to open a home outside of their city for orphaned/abandoned Children. A vehicle is a pivotal factor to move forward with that possibility.
They also have some local disabled community members making ornaments. They are gorgeous. And, unfortunately, already sold out!
 |
| Imagine navigating dark, rainy, dangerous roads in this! (See below) |
Here's a short video on their current transportation situation. I watched it and both smiled in amusement, and sighed realizing what a deep sacrifice they make daily as an act of love for the Chinese.
Check out Hallie's amazing blog
She mentions her struggle as a mom allowing her kids to ride on an unprotected motorcycle on the dangerous streets, the difficulties of being away from familiar Pacific NW, and general life moments in a foreign country.
Donate now.
I love you, and thank you for taking the time to consider the amazing servanthood of Matt and Hallie. They certainly covet your prayers!
Please FaceBook Share this... Button is located in the right column.
- Miss Rose
November 20, 2010
Bizarre web search...
I stalk you. Just an FYI. :)
Seriously, I review statistics of those who utilize my blog. It's helpful for me to see what entries are interesting to you, and what is interesting to the general public who finds me through web searches. I look at the first page people land on my blog, what pages they look at most, and what they enter into Google's search before finding me. It can also be amusing.
One such example:
Hmmmm. Well, I suppose the hot spring would be a lovely, natural setting to have sex. And there was a creepy old man watching Danyelle and I from the camper in the parking lot. Hot mom, knock loudly.
Seriously, I review statistics of those who utilize my blog. It's helpful for me to see what entries are interesting to you, and what is interesting to the general public who finds me through web searches. I look at the first page people land on my blog, what pages they look at most, and what they enter into Google's search before finding me. It can also be amusing.
One such example:
 | 11.16. | 21:54:24 | www.google.com | hot mom needs sex Ridgecrest ca | 2010/01/hot-water-springs-natural-escape.html |
Hmmmm. Well, I suppose the hot spring would be a lovely, natural setting to have sex. And there was a creepy old man watching Danyelle and I from the camper in the parking lot. Hot mom, knock loudly.
November 18, 2010
It's been a year since... Musings on my alternative life choices
(Written 12/09/09. I'll give you a current-day update in two weeks.)
It's been a year since I quit my job, packed my personal items and stored them in the attic, and went to a third world country without knowing a soul.
This was one of the most difficult efforts of my life.
I was not scared of Ecuador, but scared to quit my life back in America. Aren't we supposed to get a decently paying job and keep it, especially in this economy? Aren't we supposed to pay down our student loans as quickly as possible? And what about the spouse??? I'm getting older, and the purple veins on my legs are appearing in startling numbers. When will I find a man to purpose myself toward? I long for this!
---
Today I danced around in my lawn. The grass was frosty, you see, and I've not crunched frosty grass in about 16 months. I miss the feeling of the crinkle of the grass under a bit of my weight, and then the sound and movement of the blanket of grass sinking in as I fully step down. I start to tear up because this is a precious moment to me. I am living the Oregon life. I miss these things.
I am happy. I am working temp jobs, helping friends with their personal issues, visiting people who need a friend. I am planning trips to Oklahoma, California, and Phoenix. I am freezing cold. (This does not make me happy at all. In fact, I rather despise it. Anyone want to go play in the snow? I need to ASAP!)
And while I am fairly happy, I am also... confused. Feeling alone. Hurting over a man that I adore but cannot be with. On a separate note, I do not sleep well and am often tired and do not know how to resolve the issue. I am so thankful to have the opportunity to help my grandparents, and thankful for the income, but I consider my bank accounts to still be meager. I have spoken with so many of my friends, and they resoundingly are struggling with the same issues as I: knowing our life purpose, finding the "right" mate, sorting through confused values and ideals, and deciding who they are and how they fit into mankind's messy world.
---
I am physically cold in Oregon.
I do not know very much about myself nor the world, but I know that I dislike being cold. I know if I stay in Salem now, I may stay in Salem forever. Combining these two pieces of information causes me to conclude that I need to move out of Salem now. I am only here to see my family for the holidays, and to catch up with my dearest friends.
It's been a year since I quit my job, packed my personal items and stored them in the attic, and went to a third world country without knowing a soul.
This was one of the most difficult efforts of my life.
I was not scared of Ecuador, but scared to quit my life back in America. Aren't we supposed to get a decently paying job and keep it, especially in this economy? Aren't we supposed to pay down our student loans as quickly as possible? And what about the spouse??? I'm getting older, and the purple veins on my legs are appearing in startling numbers. When will I find a man to purpose myself toward? I long for this!
---
Today I danced around in my lawn. The grass was frosty, you see, and I've not crunched frosty grass in about 16 months. I miss the feeling of the crinkle of the grass under a bit of my weight, and then the sound and movement of the blanket of grass sinking in as I fully step down. I start to tear up because this is a precious moment to me. I am living the Oregon life. I miss these things.
I am happy. I am working temp jobs, helping friends with their personal issues, visiting people who need a friend. I am planning trips to Oklahoma, California, and Phoenix. I am freezing cold. (This does not make me happy at all. In fact, I rather despise it. Anyone want to go play in the snow? I need to ASAP!)
And while I am fairly happy, I am also... confused. Feeling alone. Hurting over a man that I adore but cannot be with. On a separate note, I do not sleep well and am often tired and do not know how to resolve the issue. I am so thankful to have the opportunity to help my grandparents, and thankful for the income, but I consider my bank accounts to still be meager. I have spoken with so many of my friends, and they resoundingly are struggling with the same issues as I: knowing our life purpose, finding the "right" mate, sorting through confused values and ideals, and deciding who they are and how they fit into mankind's messy world.
---
I am physically cold in Oregon.
I do not know very much about myself nor the world, but I know that I dislike being cold. I know if I stay in Salem now, I may stay in Salem forever. Combining these two pieces of information causes me to conclude that I need to move out of Salem now. I am only here to see my family for the holidays, and to catch up with my dearest friends.
November 7, 2010
$1,000 birthday checks
Not the birthday check I'd hoped for, but precisely the birthday check I'd hoped for.
Cheers to the grace of God, my own careful fiscal responsibility, and Dave Ramsey. Lovely!
I have two student loans, and the one with the university (5.0% interest) only has $1,651 left and WILL be paid off in 2011!
Note: This does mean I closed my savings account earmarked for travel and pushed all the cash straight toward this loan. And I won't be taking any vacations soon. Except a moment of sunshine in the spring (Budget of $500.)
Cheers to the grace of God, my own careful fiscal responsibility, and Dave Ramsey. Lovely!
I have two student loans, and the one with the university (5.0% interest) only has $1,651 left and WILL be paid off in 2011!
Note: This does mean I closed my savings account earmarked for travel and pushed all the cash straight toward this loan. And I won't be taking any vacations soon. Except a moment of sunshine in the spring (Budget of $500.)
November 4, 2010
Oregonian day: Minto Brown, countryside, friends, minimalism
(4/8/10)
I had an amazing day in Oregon today.
1. Minto Brown Park. I went to this 900 acre park on an overcast, 55 degree day. It was lovely. As long as I'm back in the USA, I'm attempting to do All Things Oregon. I'm doing well fulfilling this goal given that I've not walked around Minto Brown in at least 10 years.
It was drizzling. The birds were singing. The blossoming trees had laden the air with sweet fragrance. The joggers all said hello in a kind tone. The ground was sodden from our intense rain. And it was wonderful.
I wandered with Jesse, a friend from McNary High. We met Mary, a lovely woman who enjoys birding. She shared her telescope with us, and I practiced the art of digiscoping, which means taking a close-up digital photo using a telescope. Check out all her binoculars and cameras!
The herring made a gorgeous subject.
Thanks, God, Jesse, Jeff the Biker, Mista Herron, and Miss Mary the Birder!
2. Courtney H's house in the countryside.
I recently got rid of over half my wardrobe. My friend Courtney helped me with decision making.
Tables turned: I drove out to her place near Monitor, Oregon. Her farm house is actually quite quaint. In the middle of nothing. And the 30 minute drive there is calming as I watched the snow-capped hills just in front of me, and the roads curved around local farmers, including that of Mallory's Dairy - The dairy providing the milk I mentioned earlier which is just miles from my house. We ate a crock pot dinner with chicken raised on her farm. YUM!
Check out this sweater: She actually won this "ugly Christmas sweater" at a party. Time to give it up, Court. (Fortunately she did not fight me on this decision.)
We sorted through about half her clothing, and got rid of 91 items. YAY! It's an effort to rid yourself of the familiar, the comfortable, and the useful. But is it something you really need? Probably not.
I left a bottle of wine and a bag of chocolate at her house as motivation for me to come back soon. Our next sorting date is set for next Wednesday... CHEERS!
I had an amazing day in Oregon today.
1. Minto Brown Park. I went to this 900 acre park on an overcast, 55 degree day. It was lovely. As long as I'm back in the USA, I'm attempting to do All Things Oregon. I'm doing well fulfilling this goal given that I've not walked around Minto Brown in at least 10 years.
It was drizzling. The birds were singing. The blossoming trees had laden the air with sweet fragrance. The joggers all said hello in a kind tone. The ground was sodden from our intense rain. And it was wonderful.
I wandered with Jesse, a friend from McNary High. We met Mary, a lovely woman who enjoys birding. She shared her telescope with us, and I practiced the art of digiscoping, which means taking a close-up digital photo using a telescope. Check out all her binoculars and cameras!
The herring made a gorgeous subject.
Thanks, God, Jesse, Jeff the Biker, Mista Herron, and Miss Mary the Birder!
2. Courtney H's house in the countryside.
I recently got rid of over half my wardrobe. My friend Courtney helped me with decision making.
Tables turned: I drove out to her place near Monitor, Oregon. Her farm house is actually quite quaint. In the middle of nothing. And the 30 minute drive there is calming as I watched the snow-capped hills just in front of me, and the roads curved around local farmers, including that of Mallory's Dairy - The dairy providing the milk I mentioned earlier which is just miles from my house. We ate a crock pot dinner with chicken raised on her farm. YUM!
Check out this sweater: She actually won this "ugly Christmas sweater" at a party. Time to give it up, Court. (Fortunately she did not fight me on this decision.)
We sorted through about half her clothing, and got rid of 91 items. YAY! It's an effort to rid yourself of the familiar, the comfortable, and the useful. But is it something you really need? Probably not.
I left a bottle of wine and a bag of chocolate at her house as motivation for me to come back soon. Our next sorting date is set for next Wednesday... CHEERS!
October 25, 2010
October 19, 2010
Summer bliss in Oregon
 |
| The Hess farm. Burns, Oregon. |
 |
| Camp Alamo. Little North Fork, Oregon. |
8 Days of my most recent adventure*
4 Days with my good friend Courtney ranching in the highlands of Oregon
4 Days with CouchSurfers Travis, Loren, and Eric at Camp Alamo living in a tent on the Little North Fork River
 | |
| Courtney and Molly |
 |
| Travis, Eric, & Loren |
7 Times Courtney allowed me to drive the ATV to check on cattle, operate the irrigation for the alfalfa field, and dork around
6 Mornings I did not set my alarm clock
5 Nights I consumed alcohol (I typically have a drink once every month or two)
4 Fresh eggs eaten from the hens at Camp Alamo
4 Days without electricity
4 Days drinking only river water.
4 Days spent reading about my recent medical diagnosis. Camp Alamo gave me time to be alone during the daytime and focus on learning and healing.
 |
| ATV drivin' at dusk - it's time to move the linear! |
 |
| When I wake up at Camp Alamo, I see... |
3 Barbed wire slices on my legs
3 Times the fishies in the river tried to eat me (Little fishies. Big nibbles. It scared me.)
2 Mornings woken up by the obnoxiously noisy chicken
2 Baths under the stars in the Little North Fork (With Dr. Bronner's soap so as to not kill the fishies)
2 Times I washed camp dishes in the river
2 Times I picked wild blackberries
2 Bullets I shot at rabbits
 |
| Rabbit hunting via headlights. |
 |
| What a gorgeous fence! |
1 Barbed wire gate Courtney and I mended
1 Shower taken (at a friend's house)
1 Bottle of Ron Soleris gifted to me by Ed, a man with more life experience than I will ever achieve
1 Meal not prepared at home. And I'm proud to say it.
1 Chicken coup I mended
1 Cow I herded
1 Gate Courtney and I built
1 Dog infatuated with licking my elbow. Thanks, Molly! (Yuck.)
 | |||
| Closing the pipe |
0 Rabbits I caught when I went night hunting. Courtney said there must have been a coyote that scared them away before I arrived. I still had a lot of fun. But it's still too bad I missed - The BBQ was ready to go!
0 Times I washed my hair (Yuck again.)
0 Days with running potable water
0 Times I wished I were back at my cozy cute home in Salem.
 |
| Ed's prize horses |
*Cost:
$50 in gas
$20 purchasing lunch for Courtney and I
$0 spent on everything else.
 |
| Santiam Forest - elegantly displayed years after a fire. |
 | |
| AMAZING dinner at Camp Alamo |
 |
| The center of much debate |
 |
| The alfalfa linear water irrigation |
 |
| High desert flowers |
 |
| A farmer's sunset |
 |
| Jessica Akers, formerly Adaria Fashion. A great friend from the past. |
 | |
| I love Oregon :) Only here do you find such a hat in a convenience store! |
October 12, 2010
Chilean miners: Rescue and Salvation
I am overwhelmed. I am overwhelmed by the spiritual and national unity of the Chileans.
As I write this, I watch live video feed of the rescue of 33 Chilean miners.
They have been underground for 69 days. The first 17 days were spent with no food or contact with the outside world, except two days' emergency food rations.
Look at the Chilean Ministry of Mining's Flickr photo stream here.
I, with the world, tear up while I watch the first decent of the pod with Manuel González, a paramedic, be lowered thousands of feet to reach the miners. The engineers and political figures gather around the mine shaft, singing the Chilean national anthem with gusto.
The families have gathered under a huge tent. They pray with all their might, and a man stands and preaches the salvation of Jesus Christ, Bible in hand. They fervently desperately seek God as the provider of their family member's safety.
While he is lowered, President Piñera gives a loud thanks to the workers and family men, and then says that all the credit really goes to the miners and, ultimately, God. I am grateful to speak Spanish - I would be completely unaware of the entire situation and incapable of experiencing the true complexity of the ongoing actions.
Such powerful irony. The national anthem translates to:
Sweet fatherland, accept the vows
With which Chile swore at your altars:
Either the tomb will be of the free
Or the refuge against oppression
And it is precisely this tomb that the miners sit in of which is named el refugio, "the refuge."
7:36 PST: The rescue worker reaches the bottom of the shaft.
The President watches the live video feed of González as the men hug and cheer. Most of the men are shirtless, which is justified in the 90+ degree heat and high humidity. The President quietly focuses inward and prays, then crossing himself (Catholic.) This private moment touches me. I watch a man who is so focused, who is at peace, who is comfortable with himself and his position of leadership, and I must respect him.
7:54: The President asks, "How are we doing?" González replies, "Excelente!"
The Chilean flag is hung next to the pod at the bottom of the shaft. Finally, the pod lifts with its first miner cramped inside.
8:10: A police alarm sounds. The pod is seconds from the surface. I tear up as his son Byron explodes into weeping and hysterics as the pod surfaces. Florencio Avalos is the first miner to arrive, safe, happy, and surprisingly functional.
As I write this, I watch live video feed of the rescue of 33 Chilean miners.
They have been underground for 69 days. The first 17 days were spent with no food or contact with the outside world, except two days' emergency food rations.
Look at the Chilean Ministry of Mining's Flickr photo stream here.
I, with the world, tear up while I watch the first decent of the pod with Manuel González, a paramedic, be lowered thousands of feet to reach the miners. The engineers and political figures gather around the mine shaft, singing the Chilean national anthem with gusto.
The families have gathered under a huge tent. They pray with all their might, and a man stands and preaches the salvation of Jesus Christ, Bible in hand. They fervently desperately seek God as the provider of their family member's safety.
While he is lowered, President Piñera gives a loud thanks to the workers and family men, and then says that all the credit really goes to the miners and, ultimately, God. I am grateful to speak Spanish - I would be completely unaware of the entire situation and incapable of experiencing the true complexity of the ongoing actions.
Such powerful irony. The national anthem translates to:
Sweet fatherland, accept the vows
With which Chile swore at your altars:
Either the tomb will be of the free
Or the refuge against oppression
And it is precisely this tomb that the miners sit in of which is named el refugio, "the refuge."
7:36 PST: The rescue worker reaches the bottom of the shaft.
The President watches the live video feed of González as the men hug and cheer. Most of the men are shirtless, which is justified in the 90+ degree heat and high humidity. The President quietly focuses inward and prays, then crossing himself (Catholic.) This private moment touches me. I watch a man who is so focused, who is at peace, who is comfortable with himself and his position of leadership, and I must respect him.
7:54: The President asks, "How are we doing?" González replies, "Excelente!"
The Chilean flag is hung next to the pod at the bottom of the shaft. Finally, the pod lifts with its first miner cramped inside.
8:10: A police alarm sounds. The pod is seconds from the surface. I tear up as his son Byron explodes into weeping and hysterics as the pod surfaces. Florencio Avalos is the first miner to arrive, safe, happy, and surprisingly functional.
October 11, 2010
Fall 2010: Back to School*
(Note: I took my first exam on 10/19. I earned 97.5%, best in class!)
I have a zit on my chin.
I have dishes from five separate meals in my room. I ate three of the meals while studying today.
I spent four and one-half hours studying today - filling out my workbook, listening to recorded conversations, re-writing four pages of daily writing assignments, watching pseudo-lame, outdated short videos, and loving wordreference.com, translate.google.com, and results of web searches for "ser estar exercises."
I purchased a student parking permit.
I am trying to preserve the integrity of my text books by making copies of the workbook pages so I can sell them back to the bookstore as "new" if I decide they are not ultimately useful.
I dreamed I did not finish my homework on time.
I did not finish my homework on time.
I text a classmate, Joaquin Aguilar, to ask if class is canceled because it's Columbus Day.
I pick at my pimple while I study. (Today I put burn jell on it to numb it so I would stop picking at it. It worked.)
I think too much about what I wear to school.**
I still need to affix my parking permit on my rear window.
I am a student.
* I attend Chemeketa Community College, a local junior college on Lancaster in Salem, Oregon. It is precisely 1.1 miles from my home. (What a blessing!)
** I attend every class in black slacks, nice shoes, a dressy shirt, lipstick, and hair in good order. The other students are either a bit trendy in skinny jeans and crisp white shirts with scarves, or, the majority, wear frumpy clothes that emanate one of the "I don't care / I'm broke / I have no personality / I am still hung over" attitudes. I dress the way I do because I believe my effort put forth and my attitude in class are reflected in my appearance. I immediately dress down when I return home :)
I have a zit on my chin.
I have dishes from five separate meals in my room. I ate three of the meals while studying today.
I spent four and one-half hours studying today - filling out my workbook, listening to recorded conversations, re-writing four pages of daily writing assignments, watching pseudo-lame, outdated short videos, and loving wordreference.com, translate.google.com, and results of web searches for "ser estar exercises."
I purchased a student parking permit.
I am trying to preserve the integrity of my text books by making copies of the workbook pages so I can sell them back to the bookstore as "new" if I decide they are not ultimately useful.
I dreamed I did not finish my homework on time.
I did not finish my homework on time.
I text a classmate, Joaquin Aguilar, to ask if class is canceled because it's Columbus Day.
I pick at my pimple while I study. (Today I put burn jell on it to numb it so I would stop picking at it. It worked.)
I think too much about what I wear to school.**
I still need to affix my parking permit on my rear window.
I am a student.
* I attend Chemeketa Community College, a local junior college on Lancaster in Salem, Oregon. It is precisely 1.1 miles from my home. (What a blessing!)
** I attend every class in black slacks, nice shoes, a dressy shirt, lipstick, and hair in good order. The other students are either a bit trendy in skinny jeans and crisp white shirts with scarves, or, the majority, wear frumpy clothes that emanate one of the "I don't care / I'm broke / I have no personality / I am still hung over" attitudes. I dress the way I do because I believe my effort put forth and my attitude in class are reflected in my appearance. I immediately dress down when I return home :)
October 10, 2010
Hokku at my desk
I choose quiet life
Rhythm, spontaneity
I love my lifestyle.
A silent bedroom
Life needing my attention
My heart feels alone.
Yet all said and done
Unaccompanied moments
to share with a man.
Rhythm, spontaneity
I love my lifestyle.
A silent bedroom
Life needing my attention
My heart feels alone.
Yet all said and done
Unaccompanied moments
to share with a man.
August 27, 2010
My Bike Adventures in Oregon (+MS150 Wrap-Up & Bike Accident Pics)
Howdy!A quick blog including photos of my summer bike rides, a pic of my nasty bike accident and my healed knee, as well as a concluding update on my 2010 MS150 bike ride.
This year I pedaled 86 miles to fundraise for the local Multiple Sclerosis Society. You helped me raise $1,345, giving me a four year total of over $12,500!
Why do I do it? My friends have MS. They're normal people - a friend from high school, a mentor at church, my gynecologist, and a former boyfriend. You probably have friends with MS as well.
 | |
| I only wonder what or who created this path. (East of Salem, OR) |
I rode with hundreds of friends through the Willamette Valley and the Columbia Gorge. We camped in Mt. Hood Community College's soccer field, ate, laughed, and pedaled our bikes a long way.
The MS 150 was challenging, to state concisely. It was also fun, exhilarating, gorgeous, and a great time to be with fellow CouchSurfers. I am grateful that my fibromyalgia did not flare up and I was able to complete the ride with the aches and pains of any average out-of-shape person riding 86 miles. (ouch.)
The best part: riding down the curvy Historic Colombia River Highway at 33 mph while enjoying the woods. The other best part: You helped me raise $1,345 for local people suffering from multiple sclerosis. Thanks so much. I'll hit you up again in 2011 :)
 | |
| 2010 medal. I'm a winner, too! :) |
I trained with a Canadian archeologist Simon, a Latin DJ Beto, a great friend from church Jordan (Brubaker), Salem's bike club, and my old friend the BMX rider Chris. I clocked just over 100 miles, which is not nearly enough to consider myself in shape for this ride.
We biked through strawberry, poppy, wheat, and bean fields, to Mac's in Silverton and played a game of pool, in pouring down rain, dark of night, and intense sun, to my Mom's and to friends' houses, to Scio and Mt. Angel, past old red barns and country homes, and have enjoyed the succulent smells and intense sunset views of the Willamette countryside. I am blessed indeed.
Recently: I crashed my bike. On a flat road, biking really slow (thank God!) I wasn't holding the handlebars and twisted my body hard right. The bike followed. And my wound is healing nicely.
 | |
| My knee six weeks after the fact |
Warning: Graphic Photos of my bike wounds below. ----------------------------------------
.
August 19, 2010
Michael Foster is FOUND!
Thanks to all of you for your prayers.
Michael is back home with his very grateful parents.
Cheers,
- Miss Rose
Michael is back home with his very grateful parents.
Cheers,
- Miss Rose
August 11, 2010
When five men called me fat
It actually happened: Five men called me fat.
A rambling exposé of my thoughts on "fat."
(please comment!)
Crater Lake, Oregon. July 2010.
I was enjoying the gorgeous scene with my good friend Chris. We hiked down to the lake's surface through thick mosquito clouds. I wore more clothes than the warm temperature required to avoid being eaten by the pests.
When we arrived by the lake shore, we struck up conversation with five guys. They ate pot brownies at the rim and were more than goofy. Rather hysterical, I might say. They were in their 30s and from the East Coast. Every year they have their "man time" and go do something manly for a week. This year included bleaching their hair and growing Hulk mustaches.
I took off my pants (was still wearing shorts), took off my sweater (was still wearing a tank top) and wandered off to touch the water and take photographs while Chris and the boys joked around.
I returned to the jabbing of one man - "Soooo, you guys together or something?"
I took off my tank top and was left in my bikini top.
"Naaaah," I replied. I'd already worked out the response to this inevitable question knowing that the guys might come to my defense. "He won't propose. Said something about me being too fat."
The entire group of men busted up laughing. They got to know Chris well enough to know I must be joking. So much for trying to have a chivalrous man step up in my defense.
At that moment my world went a little hazy. The five guys began cracking fat jokes about me.
I am not fat. I am thin.
I weigh 120 pounds and am 5'7".
To be frank, I love my physical appearance. I have no complaints, and nothing about my body that I want to change.
The rest of this blog is quite difficult to articulate. Feel free to be offended if you want to.
I can't remember any of the boys' jokes. They were creative and "funny."
And yet even while the guys looked at me and each cracked their best joke, I inwardly cringed. "I'm not fat." "None of this is me," I told myself, trying to remind myself that what they said about my body was absolutely untrue.
I sat on a ledge and shot a few photos of them talking. They guy on the bench is indeed beginning to open his arms to demonstrate just how fat I am.
A rambling exposé of my thoughts on "fat."
(please comment!)
Crater Lake, Oregon. July 2010.
I was enjoying the gorgeous scene with my good friend Chris. We hiked down to the lake's surface through thick mosquito clouds. I wore more clothes than the warm temperature required to avoid being eaten by the pests.
When we arrived by the lake shore, we struck up conversation with five guys. They ate pot brownies at the rim and were more than goofy. Rather hysterical, I might say. They were in their 30s and from the East Coast. Every year they have their "man time" and go do something manly for a week. This year included bleaching their hair and growing Hulk mustaches.
I took off my pants (was still wearing shorts), took off my sweater (was still wearing a tank top) and wandered off to touch the water and take photographs while Chris and the boys joked around.
I returned to the jabbing of one man - "Soooo, you guys together or something?"
I took off my tank top and was left in my bikini top.
"Naaaah," I replied. I'd already worked out the response to this inevitable question knowing that the guys might come to my defense. "He won't propose. Said something about me being too fat."
The entire group of men busted up laughing. They got to know Chris well enough to know I must be joking. So much for trying to have a chivalrous man step up in my defense.
At that moment my world went a little hazy. The five guys began cracking fat jokes about me.
I am not fat. I am thin.
I weigh 120 pounds and am 5'7".
To be frank, I love my physical appearance. I have no complaints, and nothing about my body that I want to change.
The rest of this blog is quite difficult to articulate. Feel free to be offended if you want to.
I can't remember any of the boys' jokes. They were creative and "funny."
And yet even while the guys looked at me and each cracked their best joke, I inwardly cringed. "I'm not fat." "None of this is me," I told myself, trying to remind myself that what they said about my body was absolutely untrue.
I sat on a ledge and shot a few photos of them talking. They guy on the bench is indeed beginning to open his arms to demonstrate just how fat I am.
August 10, 2010
Gardening Tip #7: Be Generous. (How generosity gave me Census beans.)
PHOTOS of my 2010 flower bouquets below!
Be generous.
It's a simple concept, but agonizingly difficult for me at times.
I'm infatuated with my flowers. I love how lush they are. And I do want to share them. But I hate cutting them. And I hate splitting root balls of overgrown flowers. I worry that my flower bed will look too thin. To be honest, I'm simply selfish.
News:
It often actually helps your plants to give part of the plant or flower bouquets to your friends!
Clipping mature flowers allows the plant to refocus its energy onto the younger flowers. (Note - the following varies on the specific plant!) The plant may become bushier and have more blossoms.
One of my favorite stories:
I was working for the US Census and was reassigned to visit a house who spoke Spanish.
Manuel, Marianela, Adrian and Bernardo (et. all) recently moved up from Anaheim, California. They are new homeowners, and had a rather bare yard. I knew I needed to split my huge daisy clumps, and offered to bring them some. Manuel was delighted. He proudly showed me his garden. They have two lots, and their veggie garden is expansive.
I asked him if he would kindly gift me a few bean plants. Opossums ate mine, and I was sad and wanted beans. He was more than happy to share.
Above is a photo of us next to the daisies. He split the single clump into 15 skinny clusters, and planted and staked them by his driveway. I about died when I saw it - I would have given him three times as many if I had any idea of his passion for the flower.
Below are the bean plants he gave me, and today's harvest.
The night I went to their house to take a photo of the daisies by the driveway I did not leave empty handed. Manuel went directly to his garden and dug up sweet onions, and cut fresh lettuce and squash. I mowed down Adrian for a few minutes to have him help me with a photograph. Batman decided to be photogenic and join in the fun.
I enjoyed a crisp and healthy dinner. Viva la Census.
That'll teach me to be generous!
feel free to comment with your gardening questions!
Gardening Tip #1: Out with the Old
Gardening Tip #2: Quality (Pruners Clippers)
Gardening Tip #3: Unfortunately time to weed
Gardening Tip #4: Hot pink rubber gloves
Gardening Tip #5: The perfect flower bouquet
Be generous.
It's a simple concept, but agonizingly difficult for me at times.
I'm infatuated with my flowers. I love how lush they are. And I do want to share them. But I hate cutting them. And I hate splitting root balls of overgrown flowers. I worry that my flower bed will look too thin. To be honest, I'm simply selfish.
News:
It often actually helps your plants to give part of the plant or flower bouquets to your friends!
Clipping mature flowers allows the plant to refocus its energy onto the younger flowers. (Note - the following varies on the specific plant!) The plant may become bushier and have more blossoms.
One of my favorite stories:
I was working for the US Census and was reassigned to visit a house who spoke Spanish.
Manuel, Marianela, Adrian and Bernardo (et. all) recently moved up from Anaheim, California. They are new homeowners, and had a rather bare yard. I knew I needed to split my huge daisy clumps, and offered to bring them some. Manuel was delighted. He proudly showed me his garden. They have two lots, and their veggie garden is expansive.
I asked him if he would kindly gift me a few bean plants. Opossums ate mine, and I was sad and wanted beans. He was more than happy to share.
Above is a photo of us next to the daisies. He split the single clump into 15 skinny clusters, and planted and staked them by his driveway. I about died when I saw it - I would have given him three times as many if I had any idea of his passion for the flower.
Below are the bean plants he gave me, and today's harvest.
The night I went to their house to take a photo of the daisies by the driveway I did not leave empty handed. Manuel went directly to his garden and dug up sweet onions, and cut fresh lettuce and squash. I mowed down Adrian for a few minutes to have him help me with a photograph. Batman decided to be photogenic and join in the fun.I enjoyed a crisp and healthy dinner. Viva la Census.
That'll teach me to be generous!
feel free to comment with your gardening questions!
________________________________________
Green Thumb ArchivesGardening Tip #1: Out with the Old
Gardening Tip #2: Quality (Pruners Clippers)
Gardening Tip #3: Unfortunately time to weed
Gardening Tip #4: Hot pink rubber gloves
Gardening Tip #5: The perfect flower bouquet
Gardening Tip #6: Get rid of Aphids naturally
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