I got an e-mail informing me that this was the weekend at Kennedy Space Center where all the Floridians get in free if they bring a food item for the food drive. The normal rates for KSC are ridiculous, but definitely worth a can of corn. ;)

The last two years, I've tagged along with David and Leah, because they're just nice like that, and I have to admit that instead of writing Rhetoric and Lordship papers this weekend, I would have much preferred to be walking around sunny FL with them eating Dippin' Dots and watching 3-D movies about space. I miss you, Johnsons! :)

But I actually ended up having a fascinating discussion about space and eternity with one of my roomies yesterday as we munched on fries from Jack-in-the-Box (creepiest fast food mascot ever), so I celebrated space weekend in my own special way. ;)

Speaking of fast food, I've heard rumors that Chick-Fil-A is opening up in Boise. That's about six hours away from me, but hey--it's a start. I think they should get rid of the disturbing Jack-in-the-Box here in town and stick in a place with non-creepy mascots...like cows who wear signboards. Nobody's scared of them--they can't even spell!

Puer est!

Aunt Tara. Yeah, I like the sound of that. I can’t wait to hear my little nephew squeal it whenever I visit him . . . as long as he’s squealing out of excitement, not terror.

But I'm jumping ahead of myself. The poor kid's still unnamed and unborn. I'll let him delay learning my name until he's ex utero, but once the doctor slaps his little rear, I expect him to start working on the T sound. I've heard that's a hard one for kids.

Oh, funny story....I was chatting with Uncle Tomas on Facebook this afternoon. At one point, he wrote, "Yeah, I can’t wait to hold my little niece in my arms.”

Wait, what?

I’m not going to lie. I actually entertained the notion that David and Leah had told everyone that it was a girl except me, since I was predicting that it was a girl all along. (NOTE: Predicting a girl is not the same thing as exclusively desiring a girl. Mmkay? Mmkay.)

Around the time that I realized that Leah would never do such a cruel thing, Tomas helpfully typed “JK” into the chatbox. Phew. I wasn’t misinformed.

I'm thinking that maybe ignorance was bliss, however. Now I'm plagued with the desire to rush out and buy every bit of baby boy paraphernalia in this solar system. I think I need to go visit my personal banker Rachel. Maybe she can give me some helpful little financial pamphlet written for aunts who want to blow their life savings on onesies embroidered with bugs and firetrucks.

Don't let me down, Rachel.

The cost of higher education...

Last week at declamation, we all read another section of our papers. In my narratio, I referenced a 19th-century idea concerning higher education for women. Basically, this Harvard medical professor came up with the theory that women couldn't handle the rigors of a liberal arts education. Their brains would become overstressed which would harm their ovaries, and they'd be barren for life.

And no, I couldn't read that without laughing.

The assignment for this week's declamation is nice and simple. We have to give a book or movie review. I looked back over my reading log to see what I'd read this summer and was reminded of my newest favorite play: W;t (also published under Wit, but the semi-colon is a major part of the story, so I think it should be kept in). This assignment isn't due for a few days, but I needed a break from reading, so I sat down to write. First, I tried to summarize the play. A pedantic woman spends her entire life in the academic world and discovers at the age of 50 that she has cancer. Ovarian cancer.

Then it hit me. I can't review this play at declamations. No way. After last week's declamation, I can just imagine everyone sitting there thinking, "Why is that one short girl in our class always talking about educated women and their ovaries?"

So, yeah. I nixed that idea.

Sometime I'll post a review of W;t on here...but right now, I need to come up with another book or movie to review. I thought about Captivating, but I've already technically written a review of it on Facebook, and I also don't want to always be harping on views of women in Christian circles, no matter how wrong they are.

Maybe I can review Amelia Bedelia. Or Ramona Quimby, Age Eight. I don't think ovaries play a big part in either of those books.

And that is the final time that I'll write the word "ovaries" on this blog. Promise.

Because I'm sure you all care about my hair...

I was reading Proverbs 16:31 a few nights ago . . . "Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life."

Yesterday, while brushing my hair, I discovered that I have moved two more strands in the direction of a righteous life.

Yeah, I'm trying to ignore the possibility that I just got really rotten hair genes from my parents. These aren't the first gray hairs I've found. I used to just yank them out, but I've stopped that. I'd rather end up like my mom (gray at 30) than my dad (bald at 30).

Uh-oh. That reminds me of something else I read in the Bible...the story about the two she-bears gobbling up forty-two kids because they called Elijah "bald head."

That story totally freaked me out as a kid, because I once told my father than his hair didn't fall OUT, it fell IN and clogged his brain. (Do you remember that, Dad?)

I didn't understand. Everyone laughed when Buddy said it to the bald guy on The Dick van Dyke Show! Life Lesson #780: don't repeat everything you hear on TV.

Also, stay away from she-bears.

Wow.

I just realized that my blog is still set to FL time. Aha, so that's why I've been reprimanded for staying up too late! No worries, Grandma and Aunt Suzanne; I don't make a habit of going to bed at 2:30AM. I learned Week 3 that it's just not worth it. I'd rather get up early than stay up late. At this point, my dad is saying, "Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter?" No worries, Father. One look at my room right now, and you'd know it's me.

So yeah, you can pray for my roommate. . .

Haha, no. I promise it's not as bad as it was at home . . . but that's probably just because I have less stuff out here. ;)

Anyway. Moving on. I love Fridays. Thursday nights are usually filled with frantic studying and minor freak-outs in preparation for Friday, but Fridays themselves are fantastic. Latin recitations are hilarious, Lordship recitations are amazing, declamations are usually interesting, and Disputatio is just fun.

Actually, Disputatio was jaw-droppingly amazing today. If I didn't believe in the sovereignty of God, I would have to conclude that the speakers had somehow managed to peek into the deep, dark recesses of my soul and had specifically constructed a talk designed to target everything I've struggled with in the past five weeks.

That's not the first time something like that has happened out here, but it was definitely the most obvious. All I had to do was make eye contact with my roommate across the room. No words were necessary. She understood everything I was communicating. (It roughly translates to, "Oh my goodness, can you believe this is happening? How did they know? Were they hiding behind a bush when we had that conversation? Isn't God amazing?")

Yes, my eyes are talkative.

For those burning with curiosity, the lecture was on pride, humility, and comparing yourself to others. I'm guilty. Oh. So. Guilty.

So yes. I have been convicted by so much in the past few weeks, and that makes me happy.

You know what also makes me happy? Sleep.

Why do I end every blog post talking about sleep? Methinks I need to come up with more creative ways to signal the end of my post. I know!

The End.

Salmo 150

Harvest Ball

I think the feeling a girl gets after a night of dancing should be encapsulated and sold as happy pills.

I have been really stressed out this weekend. I probably should be right now, but I'm not. I'm still on my dancing high. That dancing probably worked off a few dozen freeze pops, too. Not that I eat a lot of freeze pops or anything. Cough.

Church is tomorrow, which means I have to wake up in time to go. Heh, I should get to bed.

For Dad...

Propositio

The idea that Christian daughters may not attend college is a misapplication of Biblical headship.

Confirmatio

Headship is defined as “authority” or “leadership,” and the Bible is quite clear that a father is the head of his daughter. However, in some Christian circles, the definition of Biblical headship has been wrongly narrowed to mean that a daughter can only be under her father’s authority if she lives in his house. Though some daughters may desire to formally continue their education outside their home, this narrow view of headship forces them to squelch those desires and label them as feministic and rebellious. However, the authority structure does not crumble the moment a young daughter steps outside her father’s house. A daughter can still recognize her father as her authority, even if thousands of miles separate them. This is because submission is primarily a matter of attitude, not location.

Part of a father’s responsibility as the head of a household is to ensure that his children grow into responsible, godly adults. If a daughter’s God-given talents would be best developed outside the home, a father should give his blessing to her pursuits, trusting that she is the kind of daughter who would not abuse her liberty.

9/11

A couple of my friends and I had the "Where were you on 9/11?" conversation today. Do you suppose people in the 1870's talked about where they were when they found out President Lincoln had been assassinated? It just seems like every generation has that one tragic moment that unites them all.

Like my sister, I was also doing my Saxon math lesson. I remember my mom getting a phone call from one of her friends. My mom turned on the TV, so I knew it must be important. Then she started crying, and I knew it was really a big deal.

Strangely enough, those were the two things that initially helped me grasp the seriousness of everything. I had heard about terrorist attacks in the news before, and I didn't understand why this one was such a big deal. I'd never been to NY or seen the World Trade Center, so it didn't feel like they were attacking home. I was ten years old, and probably still thought that FL was the entire United States. It wasn't until later that I realized the gravity of the attack.

The next night, we had Kids' Night at our church, and I remember one girl insisting that the tourists had attacked.

Oh, the blissful ignorance of youth...sometimes I wish I could go back to the days when I had to have evil explained to me.

Keep all the families who've lost loved ones in your prayers. Anniversaries are hard.

Rhetoric...

I have written two pages of text for a 250-word assignment, and I'm still not sure what I'm saying. It's like having a closet full of clothes and NOTHING to wear. Which, come to mention it, is another problem I have...

Anyway. I have to finish this portion of my paper by tomorrow (and read it to everyone...), so I should go organize my thoughts. My dad has been a tremendous help making sure that I don't say anything heretical or mean-spirited, so thanks goes to him for letting me talk through everything with him last Sunday afternoon.

And also thanks to him for understanding that Biblical headship and a daughter living 2924.6 miles away from home are not always mutually exclusive. I don't have to live in his physical presence to be part of his household...and I am attempting to prove that in my paper. Hopefully, it works...

Oink.

I feel fine now; I just sound like an old man when I laugh. Yeah, I know--I must be back to normal then, right?

However, it seems like everyone else is sick, sick, sick. The freshmen ended up getting Labor Day off, since we only have one class that day, and our teacher was sick. Multiple students are sick at our school, and the university right across the state line has 2000 students with swine flu symptoms. Not good.

So...you prayed me back to health; you can do the same for the whole city. Thanks. ;)

Cough, cough...

I was hoping I could magically bypass all sicknesses for the next four academic years. That didn't work out so well.

Something seems to be going around. I have a sore throat and possibly a very low fever. Maybe this is just my body revolting against me for not getting enough sleep last night. Thursday nights are always really stressful, so I need to plan better in the future. Going to bed at 2am and still having to wake up at 7am to finish your reading is not a good idea, especially when you have to take school pictures the next day. Here's hoping they crop me out...

I came home from pictures and just crashed. That's right people; I actually took a nap. I got up, ate dinner, and now I'm planning to go back to bed. Unfortunately, there's a party I'd really like to go to tonight, but I think I just need to rest tonight...