a long stream. of consciousness.

Thursday: We’re all reallll excited. Twenty-five of us get around to leaving the church at about 3:30, headed toward ATL to pick up Greg Taylor, the manliest man I know. Somehow we spend tons of time looking for a walmart to buy gas, and going anywhere but where we need to be going. At 10:30 we finally pick up Greg, and everyone makes a tunnel for him to run under. We like Greg a lot. We’re also very ready to get some sleep. The next stop is the Original Chic-fil-a, just outside Atlanta. The self-appointed welcome wagon man schools us on a brief history of this Dwarf House establishment also known as the center of the universe. Yes, they serve hamburgers here. Odd? Yes. Better? Apparently so. Our time-management skills are less than perfect. Another few hours, and we’re nearing our cabin in South Carolina. The mountain roads are an obstacle, and even Rob Fyke can’t quite get it right. We also see a really creepy old ambulance, talk of vampires and scary things ensue. Time of arrival at the cabin is 4:15 am. 

Friday: After a quick nap, we’re on the road again, this time to the Chattoga River. Yeah, white water! And no one died! It was. so. much. fun. I’ve even got a few battle wounds. I fell out of the raft once, and even drifted down river a bit to rescue my paddle. Head up, feet up! The guides stop us occasionally for swims to see a waterfall or jump off of rocks or slide through holes. I’m pretty clumsy today. I fall a lot on slippery rocks at first. It’s called acceptance. No serious injuries.

 Slip one. small, yet, annoying.

 Slip two, three, etc..

Total time spent on river: about six hours. 
We all really need the thirty-minute ferry, and forty-minute bus ride back for napping.
Our cabin isn’t that far away, so the van sends the mini bus ahead to it while we stop for groceries at walmart. More napping in the van, while a few go inside. 3 HOURS LATER, we make it back to the cabin. Again, we crossed the bermuda triangle or something. Ridiculous. Later, we have group time, lead by Greg, and some worship, lead by Ty and Casey and Edward. Beautiful. Insightful. Appreciated
Time for manly ghost stories with Greg and s’mores around the fire. Ashley screams about a bug at the opportune/tense point in the story, and it scares everyone. Hilarious.
“Now, get some sleep, we’ve got a big day ahead of us.” –Casey, acting like a dad.

Saturday: Again with this time-management issue. We don’t leave early enough, so we don’t make it to fodac to volunteer. After one ride (the best ride) at Six Flags, some lightning shows up and everyone has to get out of the water. Sometimes things just don’t work out. 

Did you know that the original P.F. Chang’s was designed to have the waiter decide what food you eat? Even at the bar, you don’t order your own drink. Interesting, and more fun.

The van is so good for napping. We stay the night back in Hotlanta at a youth center. Another group session. Another story. Good all around.

Sunday: 6:30 am. session for very sleepy people. Despite the lack of sleep, the weekend has been very refreshing. I’m able to put words on some recurring themes in my life. Less soul noise.

Home around 5. Shark Week at 8. This week will be incredible, unless, of course, you are bored from living every week like it’s Shark Week.

To wrap this up, I feel refreshed. I needed things from this trip. I can put a name on some recurring themes in my life, and I’m less lost than I’ve been in a while. This is probably the most important thing from the trip, but it’s not taking up much room. Simplicity. Sincerity. These are new priorities.

Word count: 650

purp

One time, I got a macbook and didn’t leave my house all day long until about 5 o’clock. I think I’m okay with this.
I’ve yet to write Jenny a letter at camp. Not only have I neglected to write her, but I have also stated said neglect numerous times and done nothing to remedy the situation. It’s becoming quite hilarious. 
On a lighter note, I’ve finally watched Bottle Rocket, and the rafting trip is fast approaching. How exciting :) Also, I’ve been mentally preparing myself for Shark Week. Hell yeah.
I’m very sleepy.
This has almost no purpose.

July 31, 2008. The one-year anniversary of the bests night of my life. Oh, what to do to celebrate?

practical

i know a girl who’s pretty good at making to do lists. it might not be actual skill that separates her, but the fact that she actually writes out her goals for the day, and refers to it throughout. impressive. practical. time to sort out all the little things running around in my head.

not yet taken care of–
1. bank business
2. write letters to camping friends
3. feed mom’s cats, check mom’s mail, have party at absent mom’s house
4. take okra to grandma
5. possibly change my fall semester schedule?
6. finish painting for judah/utah
7. finish that book for wellspring
8. finish secret book
9. re-read harry potter and the deathly hallows, seriously.
10. find a sensible copy of sense and sensibility

you may own a pt cruiser, but only jesus can walk on water.

everyone’s thinking it, so i’ll just address the situation.
i’ve seen more pt cruisers than i’d like to have seen lately. 
(honestly, wood panneling yesterday. and the day before–how uncalled for.)
furthermore, i get the feeling that these drivers think that they’re better than everyone else, some higher class of people. we’ve all seen them stop too long at four-ways so that everyone can gawk at their pt cruiser glory.
don’t be fooled. it’s a rotten attitude fit for dream land.
in reality, a pt cruiser owner puts his pants on one leg at the time just like everyone else, if not more slowly. so just calm down, big-ring-wearing, talking-on-the-phone-while-driving-making-the-road-a-danger-zone, stupid-license-plate-buying, tool.
don’t even get me started on cars that try to look like pt cruisers.

foot note: i’m filling my life with a lot of noise. soul noise. i should probably paint soon, regain quietness/wisdom.