Well, I guess this makes it official

First of all, I’m back!  I have almost completed my first round of chaos.  The research proposal is in, as is the homework, and the test I was supposed to take today was moved to Thursday.  I have already studied for it, so anything beyond what I have done will be less pressured, which is nice. 

Now, in my last post, I mentioned an internship I am applying for.  After the class I am currently sitting in, I am going to print out my updated resume and hand in my application, which means that I am done considering applying for this internship and now I am really doing it.  There’s something scarily final about turning in an application; it means that it is actually in writing somewhere that I have decided to pursue the path the application takes me.

So what is this path, you may ask?  Well, I am currently applying for the Arizona State Legislative Internship Program.  For an entire semester, I would work with state representatives, committees, and maybe even the Supreme Court or the Governor.  I would not be getting coffee or running errands.  I could work as a liaison, or present information to different groups in legislature.  I would be expected to research and write.  And, I would even get paid; not only is my tuition waived for the semester, but I am paid $4,200 for my work.  While this may not be a lot of money for four months, quite a bit of it could just be saved.  Plus, I would still receive federal aid in the form of grants, which could also be squirreled away.

So what’s the catch?  Well…it’s…in Phoenix.  And I can not commute from Tucson every day.  That means that I would have to live for a semester in Phoenix.  Since the internship is full-time, I could not transfer to another store, so I would have to either take a leave of absence or quit my job, and I am not sure if I can take a leave of absence due to the $4,200 I am being paid. 

I would have to move away from my husband, my immediate family and most of my friends (I have extended family and a few friends who are going to school in Phoenix, so I wouldn’t be completely alone).  It would also mean temporarily leaving youth ministry, and leaving my awesome, brave, smart, sweet students for four months.  Four months!  That may not seem like a lot of time, but so much can happen in that period of time.  I would miss everyone terribly, especially Nason.  I would miss our late night drinks and conversations.  I would miss hiking and gardening with him.  It’s a scary thought, to leave everything behind for a semester, but the opportunities and adventures that this internship  would provide are too good to pass up.

I’m getting ahead of myself here.  After all, I still have to make it through two rounds of interviews.  However, I can not help but think that it’s actually happening.

 

This will be my one post this week…

So…this week is pretty much my first week af madness this semester.  Here are the things I have to do in the next few days:

• Write a research project proposal, including a literature review
• Finish my homework for my english class
• Study for an exam in Criminal Justice
• Turn in my application for an internship next semester (along with letters of recommendation, an unofficial transcript, and a personal statement)
• Read, read, and read some more

And this is just for school.  This week I am working a day more than I normally do, still have to get my lesson together for tomorrow night’s Bible study, pull together a band for this Sunday, and have to grocery shop.  Whew!

Needless to say, I am swamped.  Please forgive me for not writing until sometime next week, when my exam is finished and my homework is done!

 

Are you confused? Me too.

today, as I was driving home from work, I decided to check the mail.  However, that proved to be problematic.  You see, when I pulled up to my mailbox, I was shocked to discover that it was missing.

Well that’s odd, I thought, as I quickly scanned the rest of the row to be sure that, yes, it was my mailbox that was gone, instead of some poor soul farther down the road.  But, it was indeed missing.  Upon further investigation, I found it.

In a cholla cactus.

Several yelps of pain and cactus spines in my leg later, I retrieved our mailbox, and I attempted to put it back on the pole.  Of course, it didn’t fit back on-the entire bottom was twisted up so when it finally did go back on the pole, it slumped to the side.  It was pathetic looking, really, and I knew that if I left it there it would simply fall off again and disappear-maybe even for good.  I didn’t know what to do.

So I took it home.

...I don't even know what to say.

Many questions are left unanswered.  Was it vandalism, or was it an act of God?  Why was ours the only missing mailbox?  Why our mailbox?  Where is our mail?  Did we even get mail today?  I fear that this mystery will never be solved, so the only question I should be concerning myself with is what are we going to do with the old mailbox?

I say we put it to a vote.  Should we blow it up?  Throw it away?  Keep it in our home?  What do you think we should do with it?

 

Pressed for Time

I was almost late to class today.  I didn’t oversleep, nor was I stuck in traffic.  I was rushed to get to school today because I spent time with my husband.

The mornings at our home usually consist of us waking up at different times and going about our business, separate from one another.  Before we head off to our days, we simply leave with a hug and a kiss and a “have a good day, love you.”  While most mornings it makes sense (typically I wake up either earlier or later than Nason, depending on my schedule that day), it is lonely sometimes.  Often I wish we could just spend the whole morning together, like we became accustomed to doing on Wednesdays this summer.  I miss that.

So this morning he blew off his bike ride and I sacrificed my leisurely morning routine to lay in bed together and hang out.  We talked and cuddled, and just enjoyed being together for about 40 minutes.  That is, before I looked at the clock and realized that I was probably going to be late.  After that we lapsed back into the routine.  But that short time…well, it was the perfect start to the day. 

I sincerely wish we could start all of our days like that.  Someday we probably will.  But until then, I’ll take what I can get.  Because when we get it, it’s wonderful.

 

I Cried

Most of the time the store I work at is filled with pretty cool people.  They are smart, opinionated, and interesting.  They bring their kids (who are adorable) and joke about their weekend.

But then there are the people who are cruel, and impatient, and rude.  Like today.

I was working at a register today when a man came through my line.  He didn’t acknowledge the fact I said hello, to start.  Then he entered his pin wrong.  When I told him that he needed to swipe his card again he looked at me as though I had uttered some sort of profanity.  He had a problem with one of the screens.  I tried to help him, and he yelled at me.  He left in a huff, and I tried to get on with my day, even trying to laugh him off as another grumpy old man.

The woman behind him didn’t see it that way.  She shook her head and angrily said that he shouldn’t have treated me that way.  She told me to hang in there.  And I started crying, because she was right.

I can not stand it when people speak cruelly to one another.  So often we do not think of how the words we say can hurt somebody, and too often when we are hurt we put up our protective armor, distancing ourselves from the problem.  Sometimes I wonder about the disconnection that plagues our 21st century lives.  While often I think it is due in part to the abundance of alternative communication outlets, like Facebook and text, I think the reason we disconnect in the first place is to make it easier to put on a brave face to the world.  The world makes it not okay to be sensitive and emotional, as though these are things that make you less of a person (something that I have always been plagued with).  So we try to make it hurt less.  We put up our walls and hang out in the fortress of our mind, rather than come right out and say when something is the matter.

The thing that has always bothered me is, does putting on a brave face really ever solve anything?  If no one ever raises the issue, whether it be impatience or injustice, does it really ever work itself out?  Perhaps it does some of the time, but not as often as I would like to think.

Or perhaps he was just a grumpy old man.

 

Fall 2010: initial thoughts

Last Tuesday was the first day of my senior year.  It’s a funny feeling, being almost done with such a major part of my schooling.  I don’t feel like a senior-it’s hard to believe that my undergraduate journey is almost at an end.  I think I learned quite a bit, although perhaps not as much as I would have liked.  This is the first semester I am not taking nay Psychology classes, and that feels pretty odd.  Instead, three of my classes are for my minor, Sociology, and two are ‘filler classes’ (that being classes I am taking to maintain my full time status).  Anyway, here are my thoughts on the semester after my first week of classes:

All of my instructors actually know what they are doing!  This is wonderful, since I have had many instructors in the past who, while they may be experts in their field, should not have been teaching.  I have had teachers who were terribly disorganized, or did not kow how to interact with students, or it was difficult to get hold of them.  At any rate, this semester should be one that is free of lost emails, date changes for tests, and misinformation.  A few of my professors even have extensive personal experience in the area they tech, like my Criminal Justice Administration professor, who used to be a police officer. 

The biggest thing I am worried about is all of the reading.  All of my classes require at least a chapter a week, and several of them want two chapters, plus supplementary reading.  My course in Women’s Studies is the worst.  The instructor expects us to read no more than two articles for every class meeting (typically the articles are 30+ pages long).  While I am an excellent reader, and I enjoy it, I am still worried about getting behind due to the sheer amount of it all.

Overall, I think this will be an exciting semester.  I know that it will be difficult , especially since this is my first semester taking Sociology courses, but I know I’ll make it through, and will be a better student and a more informed person for it.  I’ll keep posting about school throughout the semester!

 

So this is What Happened…

My glasses broke last Thursday. 

I don’t mean they lost a screw, or the lens popped out, or even the earpieces twisted.  I mean they snapped in half right down the middle.  How, you may ask?  I cleaned them.  I had the glasses in my hand, and was drying the lenses with a towel, and they broke across the nosepiece.  I stood there for a minute and stared at them dumbly, as though expecting them to say, “just kidding!” and magically fixed themselves. 

When that didn’t happen, I started to panic.  

See, I have terrible vision.  By terrible I mean I can not longer make out the big E at the top of the chart anymore-I know what it is, and I know that it is there, but it just looks like a big blob now.  Yes, my vision is that bad.  So when my glasses broke I thought for sure that I would not be able to find my way around…well, anywhere, let alone to an eye doctor.  I called my mom and told her what happened, and then I called my insurance company to find out if I was covered.  That’s how Nason found me-in tears on the phone with some poor fellow from VSP, clutching my glasses.  That night we had to be somewhere, so Nason taped them for me.  they were very ugly and embarrassing, but it was the best either of us could do at the time (which, by the way, I was incredibly grateful for).  My mom lent me her pair of glasses for the next day, so I could get to work and then to the eye doctor. 

That afternoon, after work, I went to the mall and ran around trying to make a same day appointment at one of the optical places.  I finally managed to get an appointment at Eyemasters, and after I got my new prescription (slightly higher than before-yikes I’m blind!) Nason met me there to help pick out some new glasses.  

Now, the thing I love about shopping with Nason is that he is incredibly honest.  I am not being sarcastic at all when I say this.  Nason will tell me if something doesn’t look right, and then that way I don’t walk around all day with, say, my shirt inside out, or mismatched clothes.  It is something I genuinely appreciate about him.  This honesty was something I desperately needed when it came time to pick out new glasses.  I mean, they will be sitting on my face every day for at least a year; they have to look nice.  So this is how it went: 

Me: “What do you think of these?” 

Nason: “…they make you look weird.” 

Me: ”Really?  I kind of like them.” 

Nason: “Well…they don’t look bad, just big/weird/flashy.” 

Finally, I found a pair that I loved, and that Nason said weren’t as “bad as some of the others.”  I know they are similar to my old pair, but I loved my old pair, so that’s okay. 

I thought a side-by-side would be nice. It's blurry because I tried to take the picture with my glasses off. My vision actually is that bad.

 So, I can see again.  Thank goodness.

UPDATE: It was pointed out to me that I didn’t have a picture posted!  I took one and then forgot to upload it…thanks for the good catch Stephanie

 

So This Happened

Forgive me for not completing my series on Whitetail, but…something came up.

To be continued…

 

Whitetail, Part 2: The Prank ‘War’

Note: if you haven’t already, you may want to read part 1 first.

When I last left off Nason and I made it back safely to the campground after a truly amazing hike.  By the time we got back more people had started to show up, and everywhere we turned we saw new faces that were not there when we had arrived.  Several of those faces belonged to our students, and we spent some time hanging out with them.  Now, some of our students thought it would be a good idea to prank Nason and I.  While we were getting a fire going, a few of them went up to their ‘fort’ (a pretty cool rocky place up the same hill where we were camping).  A little while later I was walking up to my tent and I saw them.

Ben: “Hey, Rachel, like our fort?”

One of the culprits

 

Me: “Yeah, that’s pretty sweet!”

Ben: “Do you like your tent?”

Me: “I think we found an awesome place…oh.”

They had flattened it.  The poles were still in the tent, but it was laying flat on the ground.  I shook my head, got what I needed, and showed Nason.

“I’m going to kill them” was his response.

Later that evening, after I distracted them by starting a game of Egyptian Ratscrew, we formulated our revenge.  We wanted something simple, yet effective.  We couldn’t get all four of the students back that were there, but we came up with a plan to prank two of them-the two I personally suspect were behind the whole thing.  The two boys were sleeping in the same tent, apart from parents and siblings, so the opportunity was perfect.  We were going to do the same thing they did to us-the only difference was, we were going to do it while they were inside the tent.

Early the next morning we woke up (Nason and I are early risers when we’re camping anyway).  We walked down the hill and got a fire going.  He and I were some of the first people up that morning; there was no sign of the boys yet, which meant they were more than likely still asleep.  Slowly we crept over to where they were sleeping, and Nason quietly untied the strings that kept the front upright.  We each took a side, and on the count of three, we yanked the poles out of their slots. 

And it didn’t fall.

There was rustling inside the tent-they were waking up!  Frantically I tried to push the tent over, and then I looked and saw that Nason had already run away.  So I followed suit.  At that point the two guys were awake and probably confused.  We took our places by the fire and tried to act innocent, but they had seen us.  Although their tent didn’t fall, it looked pretty funny. 

Later they tried to get us back again, but all they did was take the rain fly off of the tent and tape my pillow to a tree.  I feel like that wasn’t really in the same spirit as the two initial pranks, so we laughed about it and packed up our stuff to prevent any further retaliation.  It was pretty fun, and although we weren’t able to prank the two girls that flattened our tent (one of their fathers suggested a cold bucket of water, but Nason thought that was pretty mean and wouldn’t help me), we managed to come out even in the end.

Check in tomorrow for part 3!

 

Whitetail, Part 1: Off the Beaten Path

This past weekend was the Whitetail picnic-an annual tradition at my church-where we move the entire church up to Mt. Lemmon, hold a service, have a picnic, and hang out together as a church family.  Last year they started renting the Whitetail campground the day before, so people could camp overnight and then attend service the next morning.  This is where we were this weekend-camping on Mt. Lemmon, surrounded by beauty and friends, enjoying one last trip before school starts again.  And, it was quite a trip.  It was such a cool trip, in fact, that I’m going to write about it in three parts, because I came back with some pretty fun stories.  So this is part one.

Nason and I got to the campground a little before the check in time (1:00).  We drove around and took some pictures, then headed back.  We were some of the first people there, so we had our pick of camp sites.  Of course, we didn’t camp on a camp site-that would have been silly.  We wanted adventure, we wanted to risk getting eaten by bears, so camping on one of the sites wasn’t an option.  Instead, we walked up a nearby hill and found a spot overlooking everything.  It was beautiful.  We set up our tent in record time and then turned to each other.

“So…you still want to hike?”

“Yeah, let’s do it!”

So we went hiking.  Now, the hiking was much like the tent pitching-we wanted adventure.  So, rather than find a trail, we made our own. 

We started by visiting the hill where Nason proposed to me two years ago (yes, it was at the Whitetail picnic two years ago), and we spent some time there reflecting on the past two years.  Proposal Hill is just as beautiful as I remember it-the sunlight filtering through the trees, the stillness, the fantastic view of the forest below-it is a wonderful spot, and it is where I want to camp next year.  We looked ahead, and saw another hill, so we hiked to it to see what we could see.  And it was even more beautiful than Proposal Hill!  It was higher than the previous hill, so it had a better view, and what a view it was!  Nason joked that this was where he should have proposed, so I named it The Hill Where Nason Didn’t Propose (not the most creative name, but it fit).

From there we went downhill, and came across this field.  I was feeling silly and wanted to frolic through it, but in addition to all of the neat plant life, there were a lot of sharp rocks, so we opted not to.  Nason wanted a picture by a tree we thought was very small, but when he walked towards it we discovered that it was much larger than anticipated!  It still made for a good picture, though.

That was our turning point, so we headed back after taking some more pictures.  The hike back up the Hill Where Nason Didn’t Propose was very steep, so we were out of breath by the time we made it to the top.  The next hill was easier, and then we were back, tired but happy.  Overall Nason said we probably hiked about 2 miles, and it took us a couple of hours (keep in mind, it was all uphill and downhill).  It was perfect day for hiking, and I’m glad we took advantage of it!

Check back tomorrow for Part 2: The Prank War!