Word-Freeze, Brain-Block, Cover letter-Conundrum

Usually, dear reader, as you have doubtless surmised, I do not have difficulty in stringing a series of words together. Granted, I often string too many words together, but it could never be argued that I can't produce a sentence.

Well, that is until I start writing cover letters.

I'm an epic failure at writing cover letters.

I have all my jobs listed, organized from least to most desirable. I updated my resume, I've contacted various hospitals, and I've done a detailed search of 27 different websites in order to gather all desirable jobs into my collection. What an organized, professional life I lead!

Until it comes to cover letters.

My goal is four today and four tomorrow, and at least four every week until a job is obtained.

How hard could it be to boil down years and years of work into a one-page word document with an appropriately polite heading "Dear sirs,"?

Very hard.

I've currently consumed two cups of coffee, opened three different word documents, caught up on a variety of e-mails, all of which have done nothing to actually get me a job.

My cover letter currently reads:

To whom it may concern:

I've worked hard.

I will work hard.

Hire me.

Please.

Sincerely, Me

Clearly it needs some work...

So, next time you see me, dear reader, ask me in a stern voice (it will only work if you're stern), "C., did you finish your cover letters?" And if I hem and haw about color-coded decision-making charts, you slam your fist down on that table and say,

"C! WRITE THOSE COVER LETTERS. NOW!"

I would appreciate it.

Thanks.

And there was great rejoicing... hurrah!

Well, after more fuss and hullabaloo than is caused by a state visit from the Queen of England, I've finally been granted permission to take four days off and travel to NYC.

It's not a pleasure trip.

It's a job-hunting trip.

And I'm scared out of my mind... and excited beyond belief!




Is there a job for lil' ol' me in all that glorious, glittering (grimy, gritty) city?

Dear Me,

Please stop being sick all the time. It is exhausting and not fun.

If you could please be healthy-ish for just one week, I would appreciate it.

Sincerely,

Yourself.

Selfish, Single, or Satisfied?

My life, despite sundry Monday morning Facebook updates, is wonderful. I love where I am, I love how I'm growing, I love what I'm working on, I love my job, my family, my school, and my future.

But today, curled up on my couch (which I also love), sipping coffee with a friend, (who is in love with her current life), we began to question our contentment.

Part of what I love about my life is my singleness. I love, love, LOVE it! My mother, noting my recent increase in peace and joy, asked my father if I had the "gift of singleness." (Whatever that means...) I have always been the girl who loves looking at wedding magazines, planning out color combos, and imagining a Prince Charming with impossibly conflicting cockiness and compassion. But recently, within the past several years, I've noticed a decrease in my wedding planning and in increase in peaceful contentment.

Not a bad thing, right?

Eh, I'm not so sure.

This afternoon, cradling a steaming cup o' joe, I asked why I was so content. Polaroid, quick snap of holiness would seem to show that I'm resting with perfect contentment in God's plan for my life, trusting without reservation that all the plans He ordained for me are good and glorious.

But I'm sorry. I've been around the "sin block" enough times in my short 24 years to know that if the choice is between my behaving perfectly, or some deeper, sinful motive... then it's probably the sin, not my "perfection," which is the answer.

I think I might be selfish.

Don't chuckle. I know I'm selfish, but I'm talking about being selfishly single.

Being single is easier than being a couple.

Don't roll your eyes at me, lonely damsel on a couch or sex-deprived single man fighting temptation. It is. For me. I don't have to consult with anyone, I don't have to check in with anyone. I don't have to plan my future with someone else, I don't have to rearrange that future for someone else. I get to do what I want to do, when I want to do it. I can sell my house, take a new job, move out of state, plan my next vacation-- all on my own.

I am on my own.

Sure, sometimes it's lonely. Sure, sometimes the thought of no children, no spouse for the rest of my life turns me a pale shade of blue. Sure, I want to register for hand towels and glass bowls like the rest of them. (I mean, come on! Have you been in Pottery Barn?) I remember playing "bride" when I was four. (The groom is now married with two children.) Sure, it sounds wonderful. But something in the back of my mind is nagging...

What if Prince Charming, complete with motorcycle and Porsche shows up, with his rugged chiseled jaw, impossibly hilarious (yet tasteful) sense of humor, and his life on scorching fire for God?

Would I say "yes"?

Because being single is easy. There are no problems to solve, no fights to be had, no conflicts to resolve. There are no tandem plans to be made, money to be haggled over, and pet peeves to battle.

It's just me. And God. And I'm liking that right now...

So, do I trust God with this? Yes, part of me does. Part of me loves what He's doing and teaching. But the other part of me likes it because I don't have to share the space heater and no one tells me I can't go to Vegas in April.

So, while I'm here, I'm not "waiting" for some as yet unknown Mr. Perfect to come and rescue me from my singleness. No, I'm growing, I'm moving, I'm trying with every once of my being to destroy the selfish tendencies which love to run my life. I don't really know if I'm succeeding. All I can pray is that I'm "bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God," so "that [I] may live a life worthy of the Lord and may please him in every way."*

Hmm... I guess we won't know until Mr. Chiseled-jaw shows up.

But until then... I'm a selfishly, satisfied single. Bring on Vegas.




*Colossians 1:10

sparkles
twisting cotton
sugar glaze

wet kisses
biting scratches
soft brushes

snow...

Old MacDonald... had a pig!

So, on the way home from church on Wednesday, Julie-Bop and my mom got to talking. They had been learning the different names for baby animals and their mothers. Julie wiggles in her car-seat and says,

"I'm a baby pig! I'm a piglet!"

My mother smiles. "Yes! Yes you are, good job, Baby Piglet."

Julie's not done,

"And if I'm a piglet, that means you're a SOW! Oink, oink!"


My mother learned that there are some animal/parent combos that maybe you shouldn't teach your children...

January 2010, in review

Instead of the much-mocked, yet sadly typical status of New Year's resolutions, come the 2nd week of the year, I've decided to give my goals a fighting chance this year. To do so I established four "biggie" goals, and then outlined on a spread sheet the smaller steps (month by month) that it will take for me to reach those goals by the end of 2010. I am beyond tired at my constant, "Well, maybe someday..." attitude towards personal growth. No. No someday. Only today.

In order to create my own accountability (and necessary guilt-trigger), I've decided to post the status of my resolutions month by month.


1. Demonstrate an increase in humility and a decrease in selfishness in my relationships with God and others.
January's Goal: Call two people (anyone!) every week to check on how they're doing. (I know it sounds crazy, but I generally hate the phone and cringe at the thought of calling... but yet I still want to know how people are doing!) Meet with people, at least once a week to check up/maintain friendships. (Once again, a little lame, but school and my selfish "recharge" time often steals these delightful, truly enjoyable moments from my weeks.)
Success Rate: I completed both aspects of this goal with 100% accuracy, not missing a single phone call/meeting.
Changes/modification for February: I had the same goal in February, but I think I'm going to up the ante since I had such a high success rate (and enjoyed the phone calls/meetings so very much!).

2. Achieve a lifestyle that demonstrates good stewardship of my body.
January's Goal: Drink 100 oz. of water each day. Exercise two times/week.
Success Rate: abysmal. I completed 100 oz. goal maybe 5 times max. I only exercised 2x/week for the past two weeks. Shocking 50% accuracy for exercise. Horrible. No reason for this.
Changes/modifications for February: Drinking 100 oz. is completely impractical for most days, and I'm glad it's not February's goal. I'm now going to try to hit the gym 3x/week (failure is not an option!), and instead of a water goal, I want to eat 5-7 servings of fresh fruits and vegetables every day. Because of this, I think a food journal will be important. I want to keep one daily. I already have an amazing moleskin notebook...

3. Achieve with excellence the next steps in my career path.
January's Goal: Update/post resume. Complete all clinic paperwork before it was due.
Success Rate: I posted my resume. I've since received a horrible amount of annoying people calling, and calling, and calling offering me weird, under-paying Monster.com jobs. But hey, I did what I was supposed to, right? I also completed my paperwork before its deadlines. Challenging, but not impossible, and definitely more rewarding than working against the clock. 100% success all round. Whoo-hoo! (Anyone surprised that this priority is doing just fine in the goals? Yeah, I didn't think so...)
Changes/modifications for February: NONE!

4. Go to EUROPE!
January's Goal: This is (clearly) a fun goal! This month I was supposed to work 20-30 hours/week and update my passport.
Success Rate: I worked as much as I could, but I kept falling slightly short of 20 hours/week. Something about full-time student and 20 hours of clinic kept messing with my goal. I also didn't update my passport, but that was more of a money thing than anything else... It's been bumped back to February.
Changes/modifications for February: I probably won't book plane tickets (as originally planned) in February. It's too early to know if this is feasible. But the working goal still stands. I'll just squeeze in hours wherever I can!

Additional Goal (this category is for things that I want to do, but don't think they require an entire year's-worth of work)...
January's Goal: Post on the blog 3x/week.
Success Rate: Look back through, dear reader! I achieved this goal! It was a delightfully fun project as well. I think this habit will stick. I have such fun sharing my ups, downs and daily anecdotes with you all. I hope you have a wonderful time reading.
Changes/modifications for February: This goal changes every month, which is part of its charm. February's goal is to clean at least 4x/week. I started this goal just this past week. It may be a little tricky, but I love the pristine living situation!

Well, it wasn't a brilliant month, but not too shabby either. All in all, I believe it's been a passable January. Onto to February! May that distinctly gloomy month provide shining success goal-wise.

I love, love, LOVE the sun!

“Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air…”
(Ralph Waldo Emerson)

A dream is a wish your heart makes...

Please don't gag at the corny title.

Thanks.

Okay, so last night I had an incredibly vivid dream. Usually exhaustion prevents my remembering any dreams, but recently I've caught up on my sleep debt, and dreams like this last one are real enough to make me cry.

My parents burst upon us with the news that they were, in fact going to adopt another baby. A little boy. From Vietnam. (At this point in time, Julie pouted, "I don't wants a boy. I wants a girl!") At a family dinner they showed us his picture, his cute spiky hair going all over the place, stating his name was "Caden."

Because of work restrictions, Dad was unable to go with Mom to get him, but my cute, perky mother (pictured in my dream with her fabulous new hair cut) was only mildly daunted. Anything was worth it for her baby boy.

In my dream we stood there. Waiting. At the airport. And there, down the concourse, just like when I had first met my dear little "Bops," I saw them coming. I was laughing and crying, cuddling the newest addition to our family. Caden was looking at all of us with wide, sober eyes (as anyone would do upon first meeting our loud, boisterous family). His skin was soft. His eyes were dark. And in the corners of his expressions lurked an impishness just waiting for love to blossom.



And then I woke up.

But I remembered, all over again, the tears, the joy, the almost painful feeling of love that comes from letting a new little one into your family. Nothing can compare to the love that I feel for my darling little Julie Bop. Our family was empty before she came.

Maybe someday I'll adopt "Caden."

My heart misses him already...

Meditation for Monday

For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written:
"I will destroy the wisdom of the wise;
the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate."
Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?


Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: "Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.


(I Corinthians 1:18-20, 26-31)


**follow-up post to come...

BLAH.

Today I just want to pout. Be discontent. Disgruntled. I think I'm at a constant low-grade angry. Nothing violent enough to inflict bodily harm on the people around me, but definitely enough to make smiling less enjoyable. Usually such moods are quickly evaporated, returning only at rare intervals. However, such an outlook has hovered in the corners of my life (occasionally taking center stage) for longer than usual.

I'm blaming this recent episode of grumpiness on the complete lack of sun. I am sun-dependent. I'm sure there's a verse somewhere that says "Rejoice in the Lord always, (except when you live in the midwest and don't see the sun for 53 consecutive days...)."

Perhaps I should just publish a list of topics to be avoided until the sun re-appears. Here we go: the price of gas, bills, my current shopping hiatus, boyfriends, your love of fish/vacations/country music. Please also don't mention: spring break, promotions, raises, or how great it is to be out of school. Avoid politics, make-up brands, and controversial doctrine. The following are also off limits: any brewing love interests, your projected tax refund, how cute your new puppy is, how it's strange I'm still single, why good chocolate is so hard to find, and how your pet goldfish died.

I just can't handle it right now.

Thanks.

Address concerns to me once again.... after the sun comes back.

Dear Ice,

I wanted to use this opportunity to express my appreciation for the thin, dangerous layer of frosting you laid down over Lafayette this morning. While it made a morning gym trip more treacherous than is typically expected, I am willing to forgive that fault because of the delightful two-hour delay which all public schools felt the necessity to utilize (despite the relative safety of the roads).

While working parents of school-age children scramble for alternative care, and children watch too much "Spongebob Squarepants," I get to avoid clinic and revel in my latest book/Bible study while sipping hot, black chai tea. I appreciate your willingness to expand my morning leisure time from the designated 15 minutes to a more desirable 45.

My soon-to-be finished laundry also appreciates the extra attention, and sends its best regards.

Love-love,

C

Do you ever have clear, crystalized moments when you suddenly realize how others see you?

And that their view may be more accurate than your own?

I'm tired of talking about relationships... but I'll talk about them one last time.

I am completely done the obsession the college age bracket has regarding relationships and dating. I know all the justifications, "Well, I'm at that time in my life." and "This is very important to me right now." etc., etc. But I hope that I never become one of those individuals who confines my topics of interest solely to the items that are "very important to me right now." Eighty-year olds are at the time in their lives when hip replacements are "very important," but let's be honest, it's not attractive when a twenty-year old only talk about boys, or when an eighty-year old only talks about hip replacements. Such a narrow breadth of interest confines you to a narrow point of view, which leads to a narrow life, narrow joy, narrow personality, narrow growth.

God forbid I become that stunted, hip-replacement eighty year old...

This Sunday I was handed a very well-researched packet of information regarding dating. I'm not even going to go into the titles: "Counsel for the Concerned Single" (am I supposed to be concerned!?!), and "The Case for Early Marriage" (which I didn't finish because I'm pretty, gosh-darn sure it would have told me that I needed to be married four years ago), etc.

The people who wrote and compiled this information are wise, intelligent, loving individuals. I am so thankful for the interest they are taking in shaping this aspect of individuals' lives, but as I thumbed through yet another compilation of "dating advice" (to add to my already rich library of authors kissing all sorts of stuff goodbye), I became frustrated.

Why is this such a point of interest? Look at the Bible. How many verses deal with dating. (Yeah, that's right, count them.) Now look at the percentage of Christian literature that deals with dating. (Hmm, interesting, right?) Now look at how many verses deal with, well, I don't know, say-- gluttony. What percentage of Christian literature looks at that aspect of Christian life? (Yeah, interesting, right?)*

Why are we Christians, in a culture ridden with so many other issues of importance (abortion, gluttony, divisiveness, hatred, etc., etc.) concerned with dating? As far as I can tell, God doesn't really seem to care how you find your spouse, provided that you're both growing and godly.** Hmm...

Perhaps instead of fixating on how to get married, we should instead fixate on, oh gosh, I don't know: growing to be more like Christ, abolishing sinful habits, developing fruits of the Spirit, practicing transparent fellowship with other believers, bringing glory to God through the beauty of the Gospel instead of trying to hash-out minute details of: when you can see a person of the opposite sex (not at night, God forbid!), who else should be there, how long you have to "get to know someone as a friend" before you can ask her out on an "intentional meeting to define our relationship," etc.

I'm over it! It's ridiculous! For crying out loud-- Grow to become more like Christ! Stop trying to find that perfect, pin-point of contrived "holiness" which the latest dating book tells you will help you find your Prince Charming (or Lady Fair). Good grief!

Maybe I should write a book: "Date And Get Over It, You Christians." Actually, that's a good idea...

Here's my dating book:

Don't sin.

Get married.

The End.


Pithy. It'll be a best seller because it has the words "Date" and "Christians" in the title.

I'm done. My relationship-related blog rants are over. (For the time being.) I'm just so completely exhausted with the entire topic. It's starting to nauseate me from its sheer insipidity.

Tomorrow I'll discuss something less horrifying, like pandemics or athlete's feet...




*A cursory overview by this author found more than 15 Bible references to indulgence/gluttony and none regarding dating...
** In the Bible there are accounts of people who married reformed prostitutes, persons they had never seen before, people who cheated on them, etc.

Story of my (boardgaming) life...

This is me incoherent and in love with nineteenth century vocabulary...

I'm just tired.

Tired of the same academic hoops I've been jumping through for the past six years. Tired of weekends that consist of studying and really, really long Sundays at church functions. Tired of everyone else leaving town, and me still being here. Tired of bills, dishes, but still feeling like I'm in seventh grade. Tired of well-meaning people telling me I need to get married, and then other well-meaning people telling me that I'll never get married. Tired of being sick half of the week.

Tired of having nothing legitimate at all to be tired of.

Tired of my own selfish griping in the midst of comforts, and family, and love.

Allow a moment to decry the deterioration of the English language: The word "tired" does absolutely nothing to help you grasp the emotion that I am (for whatever reason) attempting to convey. We have, in our cheap education, literacy-starved culture, completely killed vocabulary. As a result, I have to grapple with phrase after phrase, trying to convey with only the word "tired" what I'm really, truly feeling.

But there's a better word.

And I'm going to use it, despite the fact that the use of such words usually allow me to be labeled as a "nerd," "geek," "bookworm," loser," and/or "pandering over-achiever." I don't care. If the word was in more common circulation, it would have allowed for a simple, one-lined blog post such as:


I'm suffering from ennui*.


And I think the cure is to go shopping.





*en·nui (ŏn-wē', ŏn'wē)
–noun
a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom.

Necessary Grappling with Inadequacy... Goals for 2010

I've been rather hesitant to post my 2010 goals to this blog, and although I believe such an exercise would induce an abstract version of accountability which might be good for me, my pride keeps rearing up. Goals, perforce, display inadequacy to the world. I don't like that.

But one of my goals is an increase in Christ-likeness through cultivating humility (which is a very difficult attribute to cultivate if you've ever tried...). So here are some of my goals for 2010:

1. Read a total of 4, non-fiction, Christian life and growth books.

I hate reading non-fiction, and I'm appalled that this is the case. However, most authors bore me halfway through their books as they start to repeat themselves over and over. Suggestions for excellent books in this genre appreciated.

2. Try at least one extreme sport and run a race.

I loathe, yet admire athleticism. 2010 is my year to become slightly more "athletic."

3. Find a job. In a major metropolis. Preferably NYC.

I graduate in August. It's time for real life to begin, and if it must start, I'd prefer that it start somewhere where I can shop for Burberry and visit art galleries on the weekends.

4. Go to Europe!

I've dreamed about it for the past 6 years. I tried to go after my senior year of college, but obstacles arose, and I didn't go. But that's not going to happen in 2010! I want so very, very badly to back-pack across that history laden continent for several weeks. It sounds amazing.

Goal #4 is probably the goal that will encourage most of the other goals to keep going. So if random pictures of Ireland, France, or Germany appear on this blog, just know that it's a rough day, and I'm existing on the hope of travel alone.

It's Thursday morning! Time to determine what percentile your expressive and receptive language occupies...

This semester i have the delightful task of a clinic placement at a certain (unnamed) elementary school in the area.

(Mild rant inserted before actual inspiration for this post): I have no desire to ever work in the schools. I did it for a semester after my undergraduate work, and have spent many additional hours in elementary schools while in graduate school. I cringe every time I walk in and see the gross inefficiency of time management that must needs come from trying to constantly corral 30 children. My very schedule oriented, to-do list focused person cannot fathom how it could possibly be adequate to turn a herd of children loose on a library for 27 minutes and call it "literacy". Elementary education friends, feel free to correct me. I'm sure there is much I don't know. But my skin still crawls whenever I see what I perceive as a flagrant abuse of educational time. (Note the emphasis on "perceive")

No hate mail due to that above paragraph, please.

This morning I was testing a young lady regarding her vocabulary, receptive and expressive language. She was hilarious.

One of the tests consisted of a picture. I would provide a cue and then the child would complete the sentence or story. Most pictures only require one-word, or at most one sentence answers. My dear little testee was too involved in the story to provide the expected short answer. For example:

(picture of John breaking a lamp and then of John talking to his mother)

Me: John was playing and broke his mother's yellow lamp. What is John saying to his mother?

Girl: Mmmm! He shouldna done dat! He say, "I sorry mom. I sorry." And she say, "John, you be bad! You's broke my fadorite lamp. I gonna give you a whippin'." And den John get a whippin, and it not be good. He shouldna done dat...


And so it continued.

There was nothing in the answer key to appropriately score her answers.

I completed an hour of testing without laughing. I deserve an award...

Over 1.5 million new titles are published every year...

Perhaps somewhere in that vast compilation, there might be room for a humble missive from yours truly...



Hope springs eternal.

Forgive this short post, but I just finished writing 33 pages of essays for comprehensive exams and my word quota for the day is completely depleted.

This depletion could be due to the fact that I procrastinated atrociously on these exams. The majority of these 33 pages were written within the past 72 hours. Oops...