Books I Read in 2009

This will be long, but incomplete for sure.

Last January, I was starting my last semester of high school. That seems so long ago. I had to dig up my old Literature syllabus to remember what we read.

HIGH SCHOOL BOOKS

The Grand Inquisitor from The Brothers Karamazov, by Dostoevsky.

I want to read the whole book, but I'm still working through Anna Karenina, and I have a policy against reading two Russian novels simultaneously.

The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy

This short story was really what made me fall in love with Russian Lit. So simple, so powerful. It's online, so go read it.

Selections from British WWI Poets.

I remember "The Soldier" by Rupert Brooke and "Dulce et Decorum Est" by Wilfred Owen, because I wrote an essay contrasting them. I don't know if we read others...

Selected poems by Yeats

I remember "Sailing to Byzantium" and "The Second Coming." I have tucked both of them away in my file of works of Lit to return to with a more mature mind. I know I didn't get them.

The Metamorphosis by Kafka

Crazy. I felt like I was having a nightmare. But I want to read it again someday...

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot

I want to read more Eliot. The line "I have measured out my life with coffee spoons" has always stuck with me.

The Guest by Albert Camus

The main thing I remember about this week's assignment was that his name isn't pronounced anything like I thought it was. I also remember the story quite well, but I don't remember the point. Eek. I think senioritis must have sunk in right about then...

Letter from a Birmingham Jail by Martin Luther King, Jr.

Wow. Say what you want about MLK, but boy, he knew how to make sparks fly on a page. Great rhetoric.

Selections by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

I can't remember the titles. Oops.

"Men Have Forgotten" and "A World Split Apart" by Alexander Solzhenitsyn

I remember loving Solzhenitsyn, but I can't remember details.

As you can see, I gave into senioritis toward the end, not spending nearly enough time on those assignments. Otherwise, I could remember a bit more...

I don't think I read ANY pleasure books that semester, so once school ended, I majorly overdosed on books at the library. My friend gave me a notebook to log all the books I've read, and I ended up writing a one word opinion of each book after I read it. That was hard, but good for me. ;) And yes, I read kids' books. Unabashedly.

SUMMER 2009 BOOKS

Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge--schmaltzy

Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank---captivating
A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeleine L'Engle---clever
The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett---quirky
Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe---intriguing
Jacob Have I Loved by Katherine Paterson---depressing
Bread and Roses, Too by Katherine Paterson---cute
The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen---cliche
East by Edith Pattou---enjoyable
Ramona the Brave by Beverly Cleary--nostalgic
Ramona and Her Mother by Beverly Cleary---classic
Ramona Forever by Beverly Cleary---fun
The Prodigal God by Tim Keller---eyeopening
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams--goofy
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Shaffer and Barrows---charming
Before Green Gables by Budge Wilson---subpar
The Basic Eight by Daniel Handler---depraved
Wit by Margaret Edson---favorite
Adam by Ted Dekker--terrible
My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult---disappointing
A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini--compelling

And then, the first half of my freshman year of college, I read these books. I didn't do the one word summary, but I probably should've...

FRESHMAN JERUSALEM/NICEA TERM BOOKS

Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business by Neil Postman
Gorgias by Plato
How to Read a Book by Mortimer Adler
On Rhetoric: A Theory of Civic Discourse by Aristotle
City of God by St. Augustine
Institutes of the Christian Religion by John Calvin (We actually haven't finished the Institutes yet...)
On the Incarnation by St. Athanasius

Confessions by St. Augustine

A Manual for Writers of Research Papers, Theses, and Dissertations, Seventh Edition: Chicago Style for Students and Researches by Kate Turabian. (I couldn't handle the suspense in this one. A real page-turner, it was.)

A Rulebook for Arguments by Anthony Weston

Cicero: Rhetorica ad Herennium

Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesteron
A House for My Name: A Survey of the Old Testament by Peter Leithart
Christ, Baptism and the Lord's Supper: Recovering the Sacraments for Evangelical Worship by Leonard Vander Zee
Luther and Erasmus: Free Will and Salvation
The Christ of the Covenants by O. Palmer Robertson
The Teaching of the Church Regarding Baptism by Karl Barth
Understanding Dispensationalists by Vern Poythress

That's all I can remember...

Jiggity Jig

I'm home again! It's been great to spend the last few days with family again. I sorely missed our family get-togethers with my grandparents and the McGhans, so I was happy to have a weekend full of family.

I got into town on Christmas Eve. I was looking for some harp music in the dining room when I heard the front door open and a very familiar voice sing out, "TARA!" It was Laura, with Jason tagging along behind. I knew at that point that I was home.

As we pulled into the church parking lot for our Christmas Eve service, I saw my grandparents getting out of their car. I begged my dad to stop the car right there, so I could jump out and give them a huge hug. It's great to be back with them again.

I was given a lovely welcome back from everyone at church. It was wonderful to receive all the hugs--and teasing--that I missed during the school year. A couple people at church have been so kind and sending me little cards and such during the school year. It's been a huge encouragement to me, so I was glad to be able to give those people hugs and thank them in person. :)

Everyone gathered at the McGhans for Christmas Day. I remember when I was little, I thought it was so unfair that we always had Christmas at their house because I didn't like having to pack up my presents to show them. I have since gotten over myself. Also, this year my most interesting present is easily transportable. Stefan gave it to me, telling me that it was something to help me when I'm stressed...

I thought it was a whisk, and was wondering if perhaps Stefan had been researching the benefits of beating eggs to relieve stress. Think of how productive that would be! I'd become the Omelet Queen every finals week. I could bring souffles to my professors!

But it wasn't a whisk. (I'm not going to abandon the egg-beating method! I think I'm on to something...)

It's actually a head massager, and it feels divine. Stefan, I forgive you for breaking our "not exchanging gifts" pact.

It turns out I had a gift for Stefan, too. I had bought my dad "Notes From the Tilt-a-Whirl," which is one of the best books I've read . . . I was going to qualify that with a time period such as "this year" or "lately," but I decided it doesn't need to be qualified. It's one of the best books I've read, period. It turns out that my dad had already bought the book, so I gave it to Stef instead. I gave it to Leah for her birthday in November, so I think my family should have a Tilt-a-Whirl book club. The only one who doesn't own a copy is me. Ironic.

On Boxing Day (that's so much quainter than "the day after Christmas"), we spent some time with our friends from Orlando. We played Balderdash, and somehow nobody was convinced that in Apple Valley, California, it is illegal for ducks to poop on the apples. Hmph.

That night, we had another family get-together at my grandparents' house. My grandma crocheted me a hat for Christmas, and I am almost excited to get back to freezing Moscow just so I can wear it.

(Not really. I love my hat, but I don't miss the cold. It's in the 60's right now...absolutely delightful! I love being able to wear short sleeves, I love that my breath is invisible again, and I love that I can go to the beach later this week!)

Today, we had a baby shower for Leah and Seth at church. The ladies at church did a fantastic job decorating. I'd forgotten how cute baby boy stuff can be! As I sat with my sister, watching her opening gifts and writing down what she'd received, something felt eerily familiar.

And then I remembered. A year and a half ago, I was sitting in the same spot, writing down her wedding gifts. How quickly that time has gone! It's so wonderful to see how God pours out His blessings on us.

I absolutely can't wait for Seth to get here! I talk to him whenever I get the chance, and my hands are well-acquainted with my sister's adorably rounded stomach. I'm sad that I won't be able to see him until Spring Break (about a month after his due date), but I'm grateful that I won't have to wait until summer.

Whew. It's been a busy weekend. It has finally quieted down somewhat, so I made a list of things to accomplish during break. It's 133 words long, and I haven't finished yet. One of the items reads "Get sufficient sleep," but I'm afraid that fulfilling that goal will exclude the possibility of accomplishing the others. Oh well.

Not dead, just resting...

This blog post is dedicated to my father, who just texted me and told me to update. Hi, Dad. You might be my only reader at this point, but you're worth it.

Since I last updated, I have flown cross-country, spent Thanksgiving in GA, flown back cross-country, finished out my second term of school, and flown cross-country again. I am sick of airline food. Or at least I would be if I got any. Anyway, I'm here in GA with Leah and David right now, but we're driving down to FL tomorrow.

I've had a lot of fun with the Johnsons. One night, we went to a crazy fondue place called Dante's Down the Hatch. I felt like I was eating in the middle of a Disney ride. There was a pirate ship to my left, crocodiles swimming around it, and wax figures of Mark Twain and Einstein leering over my shoulder. Dante himself visited our table and we chatted with him for awhile...he told my sister that he would be happy to deliver her child, and that we could eat free if they named him Dante. Somehow, I think they are turning down the offer.

We also went to Centennial Olympic Park to look at lights and ice-skate, but we decided it wasn't worth it to wait in line for hours to skate on an incredibly tiny, Zamboni-less rink, so we just walked around.

Today, we watched a precious little neighbor boy while his brother was born. David and Leah were great substitute parents, so I know they'll do a great job with Seth. (Because I was really worried before....haha). Speaking of little Seth, I got to feel him hiccough the other day. It was amazing...he's so active. I can't wait until he's born, especially after spending the morning with such a sweet little boy. I want a nephew!

I'm sure there is more I could say, but my brain is a bit foggy right now. I've been sleeping for 11-12 hours a night, which makes me lethargic all day long. I've been blaming it on jet lag, but I'm not sure how much longer that excuse will hold out. I think I just need to stop being lazy and find something to occupy my days while school's out.

Blood

I'm not sure that I'll ever live down pressuring my cousin to give blood with me at Key West. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and I forced him to come with me--we'd do it together, and wouldn't it be fun? Who cares that we're on vacation in the Keys? Let's go save lives!

Long story short, since I was getting over a cold, they didn't want my blood, so he had to go through it all by himself. I've always felt guilty that he wasn't able to enjoy that day of his vacation, and ever since then, I've been determined to give blood. So yesterday I did.

The bus was parked right outside the school, and I went in around an hour and fifteen minutes before my next class, figuring that would give me enough time.

First, my blood pressure and pulse were too high. Grr. No one would have known I was nervous if that stupid blood pressure machine hadn't tattled on me. Why don't they just call them "lie-detectors"?

So, after being forced to admit that I was in fact a wee bit nervous, I was given a few minutes to calm down. I went to my mental happy place, and passed the test the second time. Yay.

I settled back on the table and started chatting with Jose, the blood-letter-outer. (And that's a technical term...) He asked if I was nervous. I gave up the charade. Yes, Jose. I am nervous. Help me.

He proceeded to tell me that he was actually a homeless man yesterday, and that he had a sign reading, "WILL WORK FOR FOOD," and these people gave him this job...and he'd never done this before, but he watched some training videos, so it would probably be okay.

I felt better. Really. He then began the search for my vein. It was not hard to find. I apparently inherited my mom's veins. Doctors love them. Edward Cullen would, too...but thankfully, he does not exist, the creeper.

The needle went in, and all was well...for about three minutes. But then I started to feel really light-headed. Jose was not impressed. He exclaimed, "Tara, no! You haven't given me even 200 mL of blood. You're not fainting now! Tell me about Florida."

I started talking about beaches, and the dizziness went away. Mind over matter--that's what Jose said.

Unfortunately, the wooziness was a recurring enemy. At one point, I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. I looked over and saw concern plastered on Jose's face. He ran over and grabbed my hand and yelled, "Doctor, I'm losing her!" He wasn't trying to be funny that time, but even in my woozy state of mind, I found it hilarious. Good grief, Jose! I'm fainting, but I'm pretty sure that I'll wake up again!

I think I was the only calm one. Everyone surrounded me. I was given apple juice and ice packs, and all the while, Jose was coaching me to not succumb to the fainting. He kept murmuring "Stay with me!"

I desperately wanted to just faint. It was so tempting. I begged him to let me just close my eyes, but he forbid it and made me talk to him. Some sweet older lady named Georgia was rubbing my hand.

I looked up at her and said...."So, tell me about yourself."

She looked amused and began to tell me about her grandkids. I don't remember a word she said, but I just wanted someone else to be talking. I was getting stressed out because they kept asking questions that I could not form intelligent answers to. (Things like "What is your hometown famous for?" and "What type of trees do you have in your backyard?" To be honest, I have a hard time answering those questions even now...)

And then, I started to sing the ABC's. I have no idea why, and I'm really embarrassed about it now. What's worse is that I only made it to "G," because I couldn't remember what came next.

It must have helped though, because I somehow came back to life. I was later told that my lips were white and that the color slowly drained back into my face. I would have liked to see that. I imagine that it was like Aslan breathing on the stone animals. ;)

I was forced to cough loudly and deeply so as to get more blood to my brain. Jose told me I sounded like I had hairballs and that I needed coughing lessons. Eventually, I was able to sit up. Georgia gave me a cookie and they finally let me go, but not without escorts to make sure I didn't collapse on the ground.

I was 15 minutes late for class and totally missed a quiz. Oops.

But now I can cross "give blood" off my list of things to do before I die. Now, I just need to go to Africa, get married, and have kids.

Only, I think I'm going to add another thing to my list. "Give blood without looking like a wimp." I'm such a loser.

Break

Saturdays during break are marvelous. For the first time in a long time, I didn't have to set an alarm, and none of my roommates are here, so without anything to wake me up, my body happily gorged itself on sleep. Yum.

When I finally did get up, I spent most of the afternoon cleaning my room. It's nice to be able to kick off a new term feeling organized, even though that feeling will likely deteriorate by Week 3.

Though my day was surprisingly productive, it made me very thankful that my friend convinced me to come home with her for most of the break. Spending most of the break alone in my basement would have be lonely, and to avoid getting all introspective and gloomy as I'm apt to do when left to my own devices, I would probably have distracted myself with stupid sitcoms all week. Or I would have done school, which could be considered equally as wrong, because breaks are for relaxing.

So, instead, I went to Washington where I met M's family. They have fourteen kids, so it was a lot of fun. One night, we were watching TV, and three children climbed into my lap. One eventually toddled off because the other two kept elbowing her, and one of the others fell asleep in my arms. It was good for my soul, which has been child-starved for the past nine weeks. I miss the church kiddos back home...

When we weren't hanging out with her family, M and I went shopping, watched a hockey game, went sight-seeing around Seattle, and visited this adorable little Bavarian town on our way home, where we both indulged our German sides with sauerkraut-laden bratwurst slathered in horseradish and brown-ale mustard with salt and vinegar chips on the side.

In other news, my sinuses are all cleared out . . .

I feel like our Seattle trip deserves a post all of it's own, but I need to get up early tomorrow, so that will have to wait for another time. Probably tomorrow.

I miss and love you all...and today, I especially miss my harp and the tabebuia tree in our yard. Don't ask me why I miss those two things specifically. All I know is that I would be thrilled if someone sent me a care package containing either (or both) of those items. I would also be really impressed, and I would probably feel guilty about the shipping costs.

Shopping

I was talking to my dad the other day, and he said that he was looking at my pictures on Facebook, and he noticed that I wasn't wearing as many clothes as the other girls. At first, I thought this was a fatherly exhortation on modesty, and I was very confused. Then I realized that he was just telling me that I have stretched my native Floridian wardrobe long enough, and I needed to go shopping for things like coats and sweaters. Duly noted, Dad.

I've been trying to shop as much as I can during break. Right now I'm in Seattle (a friend from school invited me to her place), but before I left home (a word which here means "the place I live in Idaho"), my roommates and I exhausted Moscow's shopping possibilities.

And now, a bunch of stories about me shopping, because that is basically the only thing I've done all weekend.

~~~~

I went to Wal*Mart looking for a pair of black tights. Last time I wore my current pair, I felt my toes poking through them and decided that they were on their last leg. (Oh c'mon, that's clever...) The only tights Wal*Mart carried in my size were turquoise, tie-dyed, and sparkly. Um, no. I decided to mosey over to the girls' section, and I found the biggest size they make for girls. They were a dollar cheaper, too. When I tried them on at home, however, they were a bit too short. I was about to feel sad, but then a smile crept over my face because this is the first time I can ever remember being too tall for something to fit. I should shop in the kids' section more often. I think my self-esteem would improve.

~~~~

I was trying on shoes at Ross when I heard someone call their mom to come over and look at something. The woman replied, "Well, I'm trying to get over there, but Tara's blocking the whole aisle!" I looked at her stupidly, trying to figure out how she knew my name. I was getting ready to apologize profusely (this lady did not sound happy), when I realized that this woman's daughter was also named Tara, and she was blocking the aisle more than I was. Ha.

~~~~

I found fleece pants at Old Navy (which incidentally was the worst purchase ever, because I want to live in them, and part of me dies every time I have to take them off and put on real clothes). Anyway, my roommate and I were waiting in line for a dressing room. We waited, and waited, and waited. All seven dressing rooms full. The dressing room attendant, whom I will call "Nick," just because I don't want to type out "dressing room attendant" all the time, tried to join our conversation about how frustrating shopping for pants is. I told him that since he was a guy, he had no right to complain about pants shopping, because all he had to do was find his waist size and his inseam. He then told me that his problem was finding jeans that were loose enough to fit his thighs, because "people in Idaho think that everyone has chicken legs!" As fascinating as the conversation was becoming, I was happy when a little girl sauntered out of the dressing room. At last! But no. She was sharing the room with her mother, who was still trying on clothes. Seconds later, a woman walked out of a different room and shut the door behind her. Nick walked over and knocked to make sure it was vacant. A man responded that he was almost through. (??)

At least three or four more people wandered out of various rooms in the next few minutes. But all of the rooms were still occupied. It was ridiculous. Nick was as bewildered as we were. I was convinced that there were secret passages ways in all the rooms that people were wandering in and out of.

I got so bored just waiting, so I handed my clothes to my roommate and drew with chalk on the floor. I drew one flower, and ta-da, a room was open. Life lesson: always try to have fun while you're waiting, because the second you start to enjoy yourself, it'll be your turn. I abandoned my chalk art, and took my clothes from my roommate so that she could scamper into the room before anyone butted in line.

Nick offered to hold my clothes while I continued drawing with chalk, but I think I was scaring away the children who were legitimately enjoying the chalk corner, so I declined. Nick then remarked that "my friend" had run into the room so fast that he hadn't even gotten her name. Suspicious that he just wanted to get to know my gorgeous roommate, I asked if he always asked for people's names. He said, "Yeah, we're supposed to ask, and then write it on this white board, so that we can be like, 'Stacey, how's it going in there?' or 'Joe, we have the next size up!'" Then he snickered. "Or, 'Mary Lou!' Haha! I actually had someone named Mary Lou come in today. I was like...wow. Okaaaay."

I snickered along with him, but my snicker was a devious one. Later, when a dressing room was finally freed up for me, he turned to me and asked what my name was.

I told him it was Mary Lou.

My blog is being stupid...

...otherwise I would post.

More later, when I have patience to actually figure out why the formatting is going bonkers.

Flight Announcements

My roommates showed me this skit the other day, and it cracked me up. Aunt Karen and Laura, I thought of you...I miss my Southern accent buddies!

Finals

I have my first oral exam tomorrow (Tuesday).

I've been skimming over all my notes and things I starred/underlined. Side-note: writing in books is no longer a cardinal sin in my eyes, but I still can't bring myself to highlight books. Study notes, yes. Books, no. Seeing beautiful words covered in neon ink makes me want to cry.

Not really.

Ok, really. But I hate admitting that, because it makes me sound like a snob.

Highlighters of the world, I don't look down on you for your decision to color every page of every book you're ever read with garish shades of ink. Just don't do it to my books (or anything you've borrowed from the library...), and we'll get along just fine.

Anyway . . . . I was going to tell you about finals. But now it's time for me to go to bed, because falling asleep during my oral final at 9am tomorrow morning is probably one of the worst things that could happen.

Actually, I can think of a lot worse things. Like failing. Or realizing I'd forgotten to wear pants that day. Or saying something totally heretical and accidentally attributing it to Calvin. Things like that.

Boy, I feel great now. I'm not worried about a thing. Ha.

Back to studying. I always forget what a genius Augustine was until I read what he wrote. Then it makes me want to crawl under a rock and never write or speak again because I will never be as awesome as him.

Finals

We have one final tomorrow, and then a bunch more next week. Eek.

I just want to pass, and I don't want to cry during any of oral exams. Given the comments I've heard from teachers and my history of being less than stoic under pressure, this may be a problem . . . and unfortunately, once my lower lip starts quivering, there's no going back.

I laugh whenever I remember how we gathered around my sister minutes before her wedding to pray for her. I got as far as, "Dear God, thank you for Leah..." and then I choked. I tried to compose myself, but it just wasn't happening. I didn't want to risk ruining my makeup five minutes before ceremony, so I just ended my very profound prayer there. At that point, Leah was probably wondering why she was letting me speak at the reception!

Anyway. I'm going to get back to studying. Tomorrow is going to be a rough day, but hey...I get to wear jeans and a sweatshirt to school for once. And behold, there was much rejoicing in Tara's closet. You have no idea how stoked I am that I don't have to hurt my brain tomorrow trying to come up with a warm outfit that doesn't break the dress code. Ahh, must go shopping for cold-weather dress clothes!