You guys seem to suck at this game, so I'm giving you one last hint. After this, I'm cutting you off.

Clue #6: Seek out the three that have the key.

I had to make the last one rhyme. Seemed more epic and final that way. Good luck all.

Clue #5: The truth is in the facts. Four unfortunate facts so far, at least.

Clue #4: I'm a creature of habit.

Clue #3: I'm quite fond of codes, especially the cipher named after a particular Roman politician.

Clue #2: Uif Vogpsuvobuf Gbdut pg Cfjoh bo Fbsuimjoh

Clue #1: The Jinxed Truths of Existing as a Humanoid Lifeform

Dear Reader(s),

Let me skip all unnecessary eloquence and cut to the chase. This blog is tired. I will no longer be posting here. No, I will not be posting the address to my new one. If you want to read, you're going to have to work for it. Every Friday for the rest of the month I'll post clues as to the title of my new blog. Prove to know me as well as you think, and it may pay off with some better reading material.

Happy hunting,

DK

Discuss

You should know by now, of course, my vote.

Have you ever had a friend that was so close, fighting never seemed to be an option? It sounds foolish, I know, but it happens to me more often than naught. Unfortunately, one such friendship is coming into question.

I have, since we met, considered this guy my long-lost older brother. We clicked easily, and I have always looked up to him. Lately, however, he's been saying and doing a lot of things that have really made me rethink my opinion of him. What's frustrating is, because we've never fought before, I haven't the slightest idea how to react to his sudden outburst towards me. I'm at a complete loss.

He wants to talk today, but it honestly reminded me of my dad announcing the need for a family meeting to discuss the mysteriously broken window (second grade).

Dear readers, where am I without your witty quips via blog-comment?

Things that have gone wrong in the passed two weeks:

1) Didn't get cast in the next theatrical production on campus.
2) My baptism isn't being recognized by a few key members of my family (my dad).
3) Really, really sick...during finals no less...
4) Sinking feeling I won't be the one receiving the Com. Arts Conference scholarship, despite my great need (one of my favorite profs told me she wanted to hand me a brush the entire presentation).
5) Guy friend (we'll call him...Collins) wants to visit me over winter break, despite my hints against it, deeming it inappropriate, and attempting to explain that even the closest of my guy friends wouldn't do so.
6) Haven't heard back from my home church about doing my practicum there. I need to know by Friday, otherwise I have no practicum for this year.


And yet, somehow, I've been feeling the most joy I've felt in a long time. This isn't to say I've been unhappy, but this state of complete calm despite disappointments, frustrations, and Mucinex DM, is refreshing. So despite the above six, they've been quite overshadowed by these six:

1) Elizabeth checking in on me every few hours to make sure I haven't died in bed.
2) Being Chase's first go-to when his Transformer is stuck in robot-mode.
3) Overhearing someone who made the cast tell a professor that I was their favorite Cheshire Cat out of those who auditioned.
4) Grandma's. Pumpkin. Cheesecake.
5) Fanny's level-headedness and honesty.
6) The staff at Dunkin' Donuts on 31.

Had a dream I was in a trio-dance with some bluesy-Norah Jones song in a smaller version of chapel. All rehearsals went well until the day of the performance, when I forgot my costume and jazz shoes. My brain would cook this up in the middle of the night. Oy vey.

Waking up with swollen eyes is no good. Glasses day today. RA retreat couldn't come at a more perfect time.

"You sit there in your heartache,
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
save you from your old ways.
You play forgiveness.
Watch it now ... here he comes!

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus,
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined when you were young..."

-When You Were Young by The Killers



Told Willoughby we couldn't be friends anymore. Was becoming too exhausting, being that emotionless for his sake. Exploded. That happened around eight. Lord knows what'll happen now.

Lot of God-things happening lately. Woke up yesterday to the following text:

"Good morning! Don't let anyone or anything let you feel anything less than beautiful as a bearer of God's image this morning."

This is from someone I never hear from. Dazed from sleep and pleasantly confused, I plopped down at my computer, only to be greeted with yet another unexpected message, longer in length than the text...longer than most letters I receive, actually...explaining how my testimony given at my baptism on Sunday, and the later conversation with a mutual friend had really impacted him. He's an exchange student, only here for a semester. Home country doesn't really acknowledge Christianity as good or bad. They simply don't talk about it.

He was so affected he apparently had dreams about both our testimonies. They weren't necessarily happy dreams, but he was so thankful...kept describing us as "amazing," "strong," and "brave. All this before 730 AM. Scheduled coffee with him to go over what he's thinking, see if the holy spirit can't sort through some of his questions.

Later, a friend I only see in class stopped by to work on a project over lunch, which started discussion that transitioned into story-telling, which Segway'd into my testimony once more, which got her to open up about a whole slew of things she was keeping pent up. Crazy-amazing, the look of relief and joy on her face after she was able to vent. Think we were both in awe after that conversation.

Willoughby's been acting boyfriend-y, which is incredibly discouraging, but maybe that's why God prompted everything that happened yesterday. Amazing how, just when I think I've been doing something wrong, God prompts a few messages of encouragement. Brilliant.



Song of the Day: You and I by Ingrid Michaelson

Today was gorgeous out. Laid out in the sun with Kev and Abby all day...attempting one of five papers due on Wednesday.



Things I Wanted to Do With This Day But Couldn't Due to Cruel Amounts of Papers:

1) Hike
2) Nap in the sun.
3) Go dancing
4) Learn "Blackbird" on guitar.
5) Make blueberry pancakes.
6) Read the Twelfth Night.
7) Go kayaking
8) Take pictures in the city.
9) Take an improvisational road trip.
10) Go horseback riding.
11) Climb a tree
12) Go camping
13) Write letters. A lot of letters.
14) Paint
15) Finish theater ideas I've had for years.
16) Perfect the fisherman's cable.
17) Make a bonfire out of my textbooks.

Song of the Day: Lovin's For Fools by Sarah Siskind

YMCA CAMP RUNSWITHSCISSORS* PROUDLY PRESENTS

“Deedee’s Summer”
a rather sunny Black Comedy

Character List:

Deedee: 20 year old teeming with brilliant ideas for humanity. Doomed from the start.

Leslie*: 30-something. Past choral instructor/current boss of Deedee. Once close with her pupil, now she struggles to find balance between friendship and respect in her camp director position.

Ruth*: Energetic 39 year old. Leslie’s best friend, Deedee’s past high school art teacher, now newly returned Australian camp director and current Runswithscissors activities coordinator.

Alicia*: Teen Leadership Program director. Just acquired 2nd grad teaching job after two years of student teaching. Energetic, spontaneous, and fun, she also tends to be rather frazzled, moody, and disorganized with her personal affairs. Determined to patch things up with her mother. Obsessed with the homeless.

Jenny*: Recent college grad and waterfront coordinator. Athletic, fun loving, and easy going. No drama here.

Jessie*: 21 year old, used to attend high school with Deedee, as well as perform alongside with her in plays, musicals, band, choir, and soccer. Current senior music-education major at UW-Stevens Point, and OLS instructor at camp. Bright, open-minded, and often told to quit being so damn angelic.

Rebecca*: 20 year old drama instructor at camp. Adopted from infancy from the Dominican Republic, recently accepted into a speech pathology program. Loud, social, with a knack for pop trivia, she tend to become self-conscious or lower her self-esteem where guys and body-image are concerned. Interested in Kyle.

Kyle*: 20 year old Junior math major. Sports and games instructor, as well as soccer coach to 5 year olds. Bred to be a playmate for his older brother, who was born paraplegic. Typical jock, yet somehow lovable, his attempts at revealing depth only appear to widen the puddle that is his mind. Referred to as “Little Brother” by Deedee, who is in return dubbed “Mom” by him. Requires a dictionary in order to converse with her. Admits to having no feelings for Rebecca, though continues to flirt with her relentlessly, despite constant chiding from “Mom.”

Josh*: Last year an assistant counselor, this 19 year old was one of few to be hired as full-time staff, as the nature instructor. Loud, often obnoxious, but generally liked. Often mistaken for Jewish because of his dark curly hair. Appears well-mannered until after hours, especially during Mario Kart, when his obscenities flow best. Incessant flirt, despite girlfriend.

Donald*: Was an AC with Josh. Kind, fun, but more reserved than the rest. Avid AC/DC fan. Often forgotten by the rest of the group. Teaches team building at Runswithscissors.

Josiah*: 20 years old, in the ROTC program at Northern Illinois University. Very kind, with an unexpected wit. Fervently in love with his girlfriend Liz, and guns. The corny dad of the staff, and biking instructor.

Bob*: Came to Runswithscissors as a junior counselor for a couple years, left to work for a summer, skipping his assistant counselor year. Hired as the archery instructor, despite his severe lack of knowledge in the field, as revealed in staff training. Tall and goofy, with a great love of comedy of the Python brand. Plays trumpet in two bands: on ska, another folk. Going to be a freshman for music education. Slapped Deedee on three different occasions during a Mario Kart tournament, when she beat him mercilessly. Terrible at serious conversation, but chastised Deedee for using the phrase “Amish Jew,” which he found offensive, despite his Catholic upbringing.

Barry*: Driver of the Blue Bus, which picked up Deedee, Jessie, Rebecca, and Josh, and their site campers. Like a really cool uncle that knows something about everything. Makes amazing coconut brownies and hands out cans of nacho cheese that his friend is trying to get rid of. Taught Deedee how to weld.

Ralph*: New Red Bus bus driver, which picks up Alicia, Bob, Kyle, Donald, and Josiah. Always greets people by name, even if he just saw them, which could be because he’s new, or just creepy. Constantly asks Deedee if she’s seen the new Transformers movie yet. She has not.

Sandy*: Camp secretary, and official pancake-flipper for Friday mornings. Just quit her job at the Holiday Inn to work at camp full-time. Constantly buys stuff (food) for the staff. Full of awesome, and energy abound, even as she nears 60.

Izzy*: AC, 17 years old. Neat freak, thinks the Beatles are overrated (much to Deedee’s chagrin), but still the best AC camp’s had in awhile.

Zack*: Deedee’s JC/AC last year. Despite the slight changes in the Teen Leadership program’s schedule, he still is often found hanging around the art room. Girl-crazy, big hugger, and typical future player.

Michael*: South Korean staying with his aunt and uncle for a few years to learn English. Comes to camp all summer. Favorite song: Boogaloo.

Elizabeth*: Cousin to Michael from South Korea as well, and stays with same relatives. Often placed in Deedee’s cabin group. Taught her how to say ladybug in Korean (moo-dang).

*Name changed for fear of lawsuit.

I often wonder if the men here are castrated as a prerequisite to be admitted into this school.

Just recently I have encountered too many situations in which I have to look at the man and be ashamed to call him my brother. There have been times when I have looked at my guy friends and had to ask them, "Where is your penis?"

I apologize if you find this vulgar, or you're a guy and you're reading this. I would not want your job for the life of me. I feel incredibly lucky to be free of the social demands men have; I've just never seen any of the implied "man's work" carried out. I could count the sincerely strong men I've met in my life maybe using both hands. And people wonder why I often lapse into heartless wench mode.

Yesterday while we were finishing up a game of pool, Willoughby said, what came to me as random, "I don't have enough balls for you."

To that I replied, "You could have." You just decided I wasn't worth the effort.

"To show pity is felt as a sign of contempt because one has clearly ceased to be an object of fear as soon as one is pitied."
~Friedrich Nietzsche

Yesterday I realized that dear Mr. Willoughby is entirely unneeded in my life. The epiphany came to me during a lunchtime we shared with some mutual friends. Discussion after discussion, I could not help but observe that every conversation was turned into a desperate attempt to gain the amusement and overall approval of our peers. The spectacle was, as a whole, quite exhausting. A few underhandedly sharp comments from my end and he quickly realized I had come to a conclusion about our relationship, and that it would probably take more energy than he would ever want to spend on a single person to gain my esteem once more. And now the only thing I feel for him is the one emotion we both loathe: pity.

The entirety of this affair was all at once taxing, empowering, and freeing. I'm quite glad it's found its end.

I love kids. I love how content they are with life; they can have no toys and become completely satiated with playing make believe. My RD has some family over for the week, and they brought their three kids and Great Dane Mango. So, with Chase, Alexa, and Sienna, there are a total of six. Right now they're playing "restaurant;" their laughter is enough to make me shut off my iTunes and become completely engrossed in their game.

"Okay, this is a different restaurant. Chase, you're sitting on this side."

"I want fish heads."

"Chase, that's not a drink. Would you like some lemonade?"

"Um...yes!"

"Pretend that on the last time, we paid a lot of money so we're really popular-"

"I want lemonade!"

"-and we're like movie stars and-"

"I want lemonade!"

"Okay Chase, what do you want to eat?"

"Fish heads!"

"I'll take that as a cheeseburger, Ellie, what do you want?"

"Parker, I want pizza!"

"We don't have pizza here Ellie, only cheese burgers and french fries."

"Don't be stupid, we can have whatever we want, we're movie stars."

"STUPID IS A BAD WORD!"

How I long for the days when calling someone stupid was the greatest upset of the day.

Willoughby contacted me today wanting to know what he could do to make us friends again. I told him to quit acting like the victim and left it at that. As some point he wants to come over and make crepes. I don't think he gets the fact that this whole process of being his friend again is difficult for me, after everything that happened. I feel taken advantage of; like I'm some for of entertainment that's best left misunderstood. Things are so much more black and white when left like that, right? If this annoys me so much, why do I oblige him?

Oy vey.

Creator or Terium

"I try not to have things look as if chance had brought them together, but as if they had a necessary bond between them." -Jean-Francois Miller

"The person we bend over backward for and the person that bends over backward for us are never the same...it's a timeless predicament." -Bethany Atchison


Are there ever times in which you wish you could like someone you didn't? Conversely, have you ever wished you could turn off your feelings for someone who has proven time...and time...and time again...that they didn't deserve them?

Honestly, the best way I can put this is: there is a Col. Christopher Brandon, and then there is a John Willoughby. This, of course, makes be the Marianne Dashwood. There have always been a Willoughby to my Brandon, faithfully paired since I ignorantly cannon-balled into the world of dating. And I fear that I will always be a Marianne.

I long to be an Elinor, have her patience, her selflessness, her grace...not to mention her fortune (Hugh Grant, are you kidding me?). And yet by the end of the book I find I miss Marianne's energy, her spunk, her unabashed honesty and passion...I think that's what makes me fear growing up. I'm afraid building up a poised front, biting my tongue and always keeping a graceful outward appearance will leave me drained, not to mention make me appear to be insipid and witless.

But what should I love more? Opportunities for sarcasm and and humor for my own gains, or the people it is generally inflicted upon? Should I consider the process of maturing a stifling of my own personality, or of my own selfishness? Despite Willoughby's continual wrong-doing, should I jump at the chance to be right, or lay down my pride regardless of their transgressions? From the beginning, could it not necessarily not be his fault fully, but mine for letting my guard down so easily, for letting my hope turn into expectancy, for not consulting the One who knows me best?

Who do I serve, God or myself?

Oh, all that I know there's nothing here to run from, and there, everybody here's got somebody to lean on.

Things Needed for a Perfect Birthday (in no specific order):

1) Successful softball home game (thank you Kristin)

2) My mother calling me at exactly 11:52 AM with "YOU ARE NOW OFFICIALLY BORN."

3) Long walk through old-people district in 68º weather/seeing old man on motorcycle with mohawk helmet in said district, and an equally long drive through town (no OP sightings)

4) Free Jamba

5) G-pa and G-ma Mac, for their intense gift-packing (honestly, how many rolls of tape did you use?) and musical voicemail featuring Grandma's beautiful voice, and Grandpa's monotone, 2-second involvement. Timeless.

6) (Fish tacos + Life cereal)/same meal = nirvana

7) Discussion about God that went beyond Bible quotes

8) Justin Spackman. On stage. In my dress.

9) Bethany allowing me to be ridiculously stubborn in waiting a good fifteen minutes in the car for my parking spot to reopen.

10) Walking in on Caitlyn, Christine (and cousins), Beth, and Eric blowing up balloons for my room, then being texted an hour later to let me know it was safe to come back up.


God has surely blessed me with every good thing. Thank you to everyone involved, mentioned or not.