Communication Failure.

I think I may have told a woman at a bar that I was a lesbian yesterday evening. It was an accident, of course.
This woman kept telling me, in broken English, that I had lovely eyes, and that I must have lots and lots of boys who like me. It wasn't that clear, but I got the picture...more or less. She was also telling me to be really happy, and I wasn't feeling that. Anyway, I kept saying, "Thank you, but no, no boys; no boys for me," trying to communicate that, no, there are not a lot of guys who like me, but thank you for thinking so. Somewhere, something went wrong, because I think I communicated, 'no, I don't like boys, will you please dance with me?' Awkward dancing ensued. I was baffled until we left and I thought about it and realized: I told them I was a lesbian. I think they were lesbians.
It was all very, very awkward.

Yesterday was our last day in Honfleur. While the rest of our group headed out to spend the day at the beach in a nearby town called Deauville, I hung around Honfleur and went to lunch with my friend, Eric. We ate at a waterfront restaurant and ordered moules et frites: mussels and fries. We also enjoyed a bottle of Chardonnay, a much classier version of the week's earlier escapades, if you will. Then we grabbed some gelato and wandered through town one last time; it was really, really great.
Today we traveled to our house which is just outside of Paris. It's cramped and awkward and not an ideal situation, but we're in PARIS! Tomorrow we're visiting Versailles, and we'll hit the museums on Wednesday. Then we'll see the sites of the city on Thursday, and have most of Friday to explore as well. Three days hardly seems like enough time to see all of Paris, but I'll see what I can do. I'll conquer this city, no one worry ;)

Point du Hoc and Omaha Beach.

Last time I went to Europe, I visited Dachau, a concentration camp in Munich, a place of imprisonment. This time around, I visited Omaha Beach, a place of liberation. It didn't feel like that.
They paved the pathway to Omaha Beach. They brought order and peace and a path to the place where World War II began to end. There was no liberation at that beach today.
The waves quietly hammered away at the sand, but there was no military mission there today. The sun poked out from behind the clouds, then hid again, but I could only hear the sound of voices, not gunshots, today. Down the beach, umbrellas dotted the sand; this is where tourists come to remember, and to eat and tan.
They have an entire cemetery in Normandy, where the names of 10,000 dead are remembered individually on white stone crosses. They filled the fields with crosses, faceless names that stretched on for as far as I could see. World War II veterans paused by some crosses, tipped their hats, crossed their hearts. I wonder what they remember.
At Dachau, there is only one memorial to commemorate the loss of so many lives, a sign, a sculpture that says, "Never again."

Honfleur, Normandy

On Saturday, we made the move to Honfleur, a little harbor/marina in Normandy. We caught a train to Paris, and then a chartered bus to the town (much less stressful than a 6 car caravan, that's for sure!). It was a strangely relaxing travel day, until the "walk of shame." It was about a half mile walk through the town, pulling/carrying our luggage over cobblestone streets. So here's the picture: Blazing hot sun. 25 American students. Travel backpacks. Suitcases. Cobblestones. Complaints. I mean, give me a flag and call me a foreigner!
When we got to the house, my friends and I discovered that our bedroom is actually an attic, which means that we had to carry our bags three stories up a spiral staircase and then up a ladder. There is exactly one point in the room where I can stand at full height. I'm pretty sure I gave myself a mild concussion when I hit my head on a beam this morning.
My knowledge of French is not improving, but I have gotten really good at my single French phrase: "Bon jour! Je ne parle pas français..." Today, while poking around in a chocolate shop, a salesperson approached me. I whipped out my snappy phrase like an expert. Much to my dismay, she responded. I was so flustered that I stopped listening and didn't understand a word she said, although apparently she was telling me that, on the contrary, I seemed to speak very good French. I'll take that as a compliment, I suppose, but that's really the extent of my French speaking ability. I wish that I could just pick up the language on an immersion basis, like I did when I went to Germany, but it's hard to do without any knowledge of pronouns, conjugations, etc.
We'll be here for another week, so there's much more to come from Honfleur :) Tomorrow we're visiting the Bayeaux tapestries, Bastille Day is on July 14, and we're visiting the Normandy D-Day beaches sometime as well. It promises to be an eventful, exciting week!

Poulmarvezen.

Here's a quick rundown of what we have been up to in France.
After we arrived at Poulmarvezen, the farm in Brittany, we settled into a quick routine. Every morning we have our first class, Foundations of French Liberalism, from 9 to 11, with breakfast - fresh baked baguettes, fruit, yogurt, and French press - beforehand. From 11 to 1 p.m. we have a break, during which we eat lunch and relax. The second class, Social Darwinism, is from 1 to 3 p.m., and after class we have free time. At the farm, we were mostly relegated to chilling and sunbathing by the pool. However, I spent a good amount of time reading :)
On that note, my ultimate disappointment is that I can't download any books to my eReader while I'm here, because Barnes and Noble won't let me download them outside of the United States. I knew I couldn't use the wireless feature, but I thought I could still download an eBook to my computer and connect to my Nook from the laptop. I guess not. Apparently I'll be making a few books last for several weeks...
Unlike most people, I've actually enjoyed what we've been learning here. I thought I would fall asleep during class, but I love the philosophy behind the writers. In Foundations, we're working through Pascal's Pensees, and what he says about happiness (rather, the pursuit of it) has really struck me. I've been thinking and reflecting about it a lot. In Social Darwinism, we're reading Nietzsche, which is a little unnerving. Nietzsche's philosophy has frightening implications, as it turns out.
Basically, the last week has been really laid-back and relaxing for everyone as we've bonded and gotten to know one another. It's been interesting, but worthwhile.

More to come later, friends. Au revoir pour maintenant!

One at a time.

So many untold stories and I have only been in France for a week.
I guess I'll start at the beginning and try to catch myself up with subsequent blog posts over the next few days.
First things first: We arrived. And we waited.

The trip began at 4:30 a.m. at Portland International Airport (PDX and, if you didn't know, the 'X' is for 'international.' And there's a reason the code for Sea-Tac International Airport is SEA. Anyway, that was our conversation on the way to the airport...) and Alyssa and I were a little scared that our first flight was a on a propeller plane, but we ultimately arrived at Charles de Gaulle (CDG, which doesn't follow the 'X' pattern either, and I don't know why, because there's no dirty word spelled by CDX. I don't know) at 8:30 a.m. Paris time, which is 9 hours ahead of Seattle time.
Alyssa and I found Dr. Davis and the group without trouble, but it quickly found us: The three vans we had reserved to transport us from CDG to our farm in NW France didn't exist. So we waited. And waited. Gradually, they were able to rent us 6 vehicles. We left the airport at 2 p.m. Then, we made the mistake of following a GPS navigation system for directions, which led us straight into the heart of downtown Paris in rush hour traffic...and European drivers don't drive like Seattle drivers, friends. Imagine the worst driver you know, then multiply him or her by a thousand. Then put him or her on a motorcycle. That's how it was. Getting out of Paris took 2 hours.
But the driving trouble didn't end there! No, no, no ;) The 7 hour drive to our farm didn't end until 1 a.m., when we finally arrived. All in all, Alyssa and I were traveling for almost 40 hours. I have seen the worst that travel has to offer and emerged victorious.

Check back later for a post on the last week - a more detailed update about life in France, and my experience so far. I wish I could write to all of you individually, but hopefully keeping in touch via blog is good enough.

It's been a long time.

Well, it's been a long time since I blogged. I guess my confession should come as no surprise, then: I'm really bad at blogging. I guess I'm good at blogging when I actually do it, but I'm bad at getting to that point.
But no matter - here I am, blogging. And a lot has happened...so much so that I would rather just say "a lot has happened" and leave it at that.
Looking forward, then:
I quit my job on Sunday. I am unemployed.
In three days, I will board a plane and fly to France, where I will spend five weeks taking two political science classes from one of my SPU professors. More importantly, I'll be in France.
After those five weeks are up, I'll fly to Germany (just bought my plane ticket this morning!) to spend two weeks with my dear friend, Isi, whom I met when I participated in a German-American exchange in 2007. France will be wonderful, yes, but I'm stupid-excited to go back to Germany!
I will return to the U.S. on August 23, just in time to spend a few weeks recovering from a relaxing European vacation before launching into my position as editor-in-chief of The Falcon newspaper at SPU. Not a daunting task at all.
Then it's a year of school and Falcon-ing and writing and praying for the next step.
Basically, the next year is pretty well mapped out, but I don't have a clue what I'm going to do after that. Strangely enough, that's what I'm looking forward to.

Happier (3).

They tell me I will never make much money, as if money was somehow related to happiness.

Happer (2)

You threatened that we wouldn't be friends anymore, as if I had anything to lose when you left.

Happier.

They told me I was very beautiful, as if that was supposed to make me happy.

Things On My Mind.

Change is good. And exciting. And terrifying.
What about the money?
Does the money matter?
I can do this.
I am going to throw up now.
Do I want this?
I want this.
Do I really want this?
lksajflfjwondfadfnsdalskfjsljfsafj.
What?

colon, parenthesis.

You set your status as punctuation to express emotion, but "colon, parenthesis" can be happy or sad.

Regret.

My greatest regret will be that I could never make you understand how much I loved you, and why I had to leave.

Heavy

Sometimes I can't find the right words to express everything I'm feeling, but even sitting here and searching - without the assurance I will ever be able to articulate it - is better than pretending I'm not feeling at all.

After all, what's the word that means 'I'm happy and I'm sad and I'm full and I'm empty and I'm alone and I'm content and I'm lonely and my heart is holding the universe and it's very, very heavy'?

Human.

One day.

One day we will talk and maybe work things out, but we'll never be the same. We'll be something different - not bad, just not the way it used to be.

One day, I promised myself that I would call you if I got that job, and I promised that I would apologize for all of those things I didn't do. I promised myself that I would call you and be the bigger person and put myself aside and ask to go back to being close. But time passes and I'm not the same person I was. You should know how that is.
I'm not the same person, and now I don't want that job anymore. Does that mean I never get to call you?
Maybe not, but you never call me, either.

Maybe you didn't burn the bridge, but you helped me build this wall.

The Answer.

What should we do with our lives? The answer, of course, is love.
Love deeply, love boldly, love always.
When you succeed, love those beneath you, because it shows that you have strength. So love humbly.
When you are defeated, love, because it shows that you have strength.
Do not seek justice, because you are not a judge. You can only love.
But when you find that you don’t have the strength to love, love yourself.
And when you feel that you could love the whole world, love your neighbor.
And when there is no one who deserves your love, love everyone.
And if it happens, in loving, that it causes you immense pain, continue. You’re doing it right.
And if you find that, in due time, the world pulls you apart from one another, do not abandon love, because love transcends time, distance and existence.
And when a friend betrays you, do not find it in your heart to act in anger. Act in love.
And if someone whom you love hurts you, forgive them. Even when revenge would be justified, forgive them, because this is love, that you should sacrifice yourself.
And if you find that words fail you, love can fill the silence.
And when you discover that love is not enough to make someone stay, love them more in their absence.
And even when you want to walk away, remain, because love means you never leave.
And when you feel that your heart is broken, love still, because love is the surest antidote.
And if you should feel that your heart can hold no more, love just a little, with the hope that you can fill someone else.
So act in love and it will not be easy. Act in love and you will still know loss. Act in love and you will encounter hate.
But act in love and it will never fail.

Both

There's a difference
Between "lonely" and "alone."
But sometimes I'm both.

I have learned

I have learned that I cannot make anyone do anything.
I have learned that my advice will not change someone's mind.
I have learned that, for many people, the right choice is whatever one they choose.
I have learned that people don't always want my thoughts as much as my support for their own.
I have learned that I do not have the power to persuade a heart set in stone.
I have learned that I can love someone and it will not be enough for them.
I have learned that I cannot make anyone stay.
I have learned that people run away when they get scared.
But I have also learned that sometimes they come back.

Forgiveness

is when you look past the pain someone has caused you and choose to love him or her instead.

Sometimes it's the only thing you can do.

Winter // Great minds

it’s all in your eyes;
this quarter has been so long
and you look so tired.

on an entirely unrelated note:
Maybe we've got it all backward, this society of ours, perpetuating the myth that great minds think alike, that we all have to have the same opinion in order to be right.
What a lie.
Great minds don't think alike.
Great minds think differently.
Great minds think for themselves.
Isn't that the point?
That's why there aren't many great minds, because that single task, to hold firm to one's convictions in the midst of a clamoring sea of dissent, is really, really hard.

Bench.

When I die, I want a bench. Some people want to burn out bright with lavish funerals or moving memorials, but I only want a bench that's dedicated to me. I don't care where, really, but maybe I'll think of a good place someday (hopefully I have a while before I have to choose). Somewhere where you can go and think. Somewhere you can go with a friend. Somewhere you can go by yourself.

Anyway, wherever that is, I just want a bench.
And on that bench, I want a plaque that says, "You are not alone."

Someday

Someday you will see
I was not the one who left;
You gave up on me.

http://www.resolveuganda.org/node/979

Congratulations. You did it, and I'm proud of you.
But I miss you.
And I still don't understand.

Dostoyevsky.

"I ask myself, 'What is hell?' And I answer thus: 'The suffering of being no longer able to love.'"

In the middle of "The Brothers Karamazov," Dostoyevsky takes a minor detour and explores the idea of hell, which he believes is a state of eternal inner torment. "I think that if there were material flames, truly people would be glad to have them," he writes, "for, as I fancy, in material torment they might forget, at least for a moment, their far more terrible spiritual torment [which is] within them."

But here's the part that breaks me. The people who suffer in hell are so wicked that, to take their torment from them would only increase their unhappiness. "For though the righteous would forgive them from paradise, seeing their torments, [...] loving them boundlessly, would only increase their torments, for they would arouse in them an even stronger flame of thirst for reciprocal, active, and grateful love, which is no longer possible."

Love deeply, people.
No wonder I can't sleep at night, reading things like this.

1 a.m.

and the moon is high,
which means I've stayed up too late,
and my paper still isn't written,
and I'm listening to good music,
which I used to think was terrible music,
and it's cathartic,
which means I have a heavy heart,
and I can't stop thinking about it,
which means I don't know what's wrong,
and I feel too much,
but that's how I was made.
And, at 1 a.m., that's okay, too.

Time

Time can hold us back;
Whole lives play out in moments,
And we all have years.

[I'm a little obsessed with haiku right now. I don't like them, but they're the only poetry I've mastered. Sometimes structure is nice.]

Anyway, time seems to be the one thing of which I cannot get enough, these days. There is so much going on that I can't even begin to fathom how close it is. When I do, though, I don't like the view.

Day. By. Day.
Hour by hour.
Home tomorrow.

Secret

I have one great fear:
I won’t find a heart with room
To hold all of me.

I want to hike today.

I want to be here instead of where I am.
I want to breathe the air of freedom.
I want to stand in awe again.
I want to be back in this moment in time.
I want to realize its significance.
I want to never let it go.

I want your friendship back.

You are the Sun.

This is what I ask / For all my days / That I may / Never look away, never look away / Captivated by you / I am captivated by you / May my life be one unbroken gaze / Fixed upon Your beauty / Fixed upon the beauty of Your face.

As Christians, the Bible calls us to fix our eyes upon Jesus and never look away. But we do. We focus our gaze upon Him, but we’re distracted as the things of the world – friends, work, school, love, possessions – vie for our attention. And we look away.

Looking back at my past experiences, I’ve always thought it was strange that I would choose to focus on the things of the world instead of on the glory of God. I’ve been confused as to what allure these things hold when I have the promise of perfect love fulfilled in Christ Jesus.

Yet, as I sing this song, this answer comes.

As humans, it is our natural tendency to want to look at the sun. There is so much power in the sun, and so much about it we do not know. We shade our eyes, squint a little, and raise our gaze – just for a second – before we blink and look away. We can never focus on it for more than a moment, though it is rarely because something else grabs our attention. There is no plant, no creature, no single thing on earth that possesses as much mystery as the sun.

We look away from the sun because it is too bright. The sun, after all, can blind us in only seconds. So much mystery. So much power.

Just as my eyes are not made to stare into the bright light of the sun, I look away because I never feel worthy to look upon the Son of God without lowering my gaze. It’s so hard to look at Him and not feel insignificant. It’s so hard to see His radiance and not feel unclean. It’s so hard to raise my eyes and adjust to the Light.

It is impossible for a human to stare at the Son.

But He is the light by which everything is illuminated. He reveals that the diamonds I hold near are just pebbles in the light of his glory; these tangible treasures contain nothing I desire. They are dull and ugly and worthless.

And when I see things in this light, I cannot help but rightly turn my eyes upon Jesus. He is the only thing I see, and He is so glorious. So majestic. So radiant. So bright – the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

And even though it hurts my eyes, I would rather go blind than ever look away.

Things that happened recently.

- Not blogging.
- Signed a contract to go to France.
- Got a new car.
- Drove car to Olympia.
- Named car "Ardys."
- Drove Ardys to Tacoma for a super sketch concert.
- Schmoozed with senators.
- Sat five feet away from the Governor.
- Laughed when above mentioned Senator made jokes during Governor's speech.
- Drove back from Olympia.
- Went to Film Fest.
- Decided I should blog again.

Will do.

Irony.

I finally invested in some new jeans - a smaller size that fits, right?
False. Still too big.
Also, it WOULD be eating disorders awareness week.

Awkward.

I apologize, musicians.

To all of the musicians at SPU,
I apologize. I must admit: I have been judging you, spreading rumors that you're all rather untalented. And out of tune. And off key. And hipster. And whiny.
Lately, though, you have been systematically proving me wrong. Thank you.
Love,
Melissa

This weekend was SPU's annual Talent Show, which I missed last year but will absolutely never miss again. The acts were phenomenal - like taking the best of all our open mics, campus concerts, and student bands and letting them loose on the stage for four hours (which was the only down side). I am honestly in awe of the amazing artists we have here at SPU, from bands covering Bon Jovi to one student who composed his song, complete with a string quartet and horns (it should be noted that he won last year - as a freshman). Outside of the fact that it ran for four hours, it was the best show I've seen in a long time, worth way more than the $5 I paid for entry. And the best part? These are people I know. I see these people in Gwinn, in class, in my dorm, and walking around campus. And they're really talented.
Clearly, I possess no talent as great as these people. So I'm going to shut up and apologize for making fun of their Indie music.
For the most part.

Responsible.

Today was a turning point in my academic career: I skipped class, because I decided I could accomplish more if I didn't sit in the lecture. Of course, I'm blogging while class is in session, so take that as you will. But really - I never skip class.
So in the hour I've had since class started, I have done a load of laundry, made coffee, cozied into my bed with Immanuel Kant and G.W.F. Hegel, and read my little heart out. I wrote a page of reflection on my reading, got clothes out of the dryer, read the new issue of the newspaper, and started to blog.
I've done more in one hour than I would ever accomplish while sitting in class, wishing I wasn't there.
Shoot. Even when I'm being irresponsible, I'm responsible.

[to]Day.

This morning I woke up at 5:05 a.m.
I clocked on at work at 5:30 a.m.
Overslept, much?
Regardless, work was good; weekends are very similar to days off, because there's no morning rush in Fremont without all of the weekday business people. I got paid to make a few drinks, take out the trash once, and read The Stranger. And I got off work at noon. Perfect.

Earlier, I started working on an article about last night's benefit concert for Haiti. I attended the concert. I did my research. I had my quotes. Yet, I couldn't tell the story.
This was one of the most difficult articles I've had to write this year, and I didn't like that feeling - but it was a good feeling, too. It was a challenge, because, for the first time, I didn't feel like the story was entirely mine to tell.
Weird.
We'll see how that turns out, I guess :)

I'm going to Mars Hill tomorrow. So excited to go back!

Wordle.

So my friend, Morgann, took my last blog post and ran it through this site called Wordle.net - so cool!

It basically made my night!
I say "basically" because this Wordle business was topped by an AWESOME benefit concert for Haiti tonight. These girls heard about the Haiti earthquake, then said, "How can we respond?" Their answer? "Well, we go to SPU and we have a house, so we said, 'Let's have a concert,' because that's what we do at SPU."
The response was amazing. They had three artists/bands play (2 of which were SPU students) and they just charged $3 for entry. Over 100 people crowded into their living room - which is not built for 100 people, I'll add - and they raised over $500 to donate to Haiti.
It's basically a huge testimony to the power of God and each of us using the talents we have. What an eye-opener.

My God is Mighty to Save.

My God can rebuild Haiti; I am not hopeless. My God can overcome this destruction; I will rejoice.
When tragedy occurs, it is so easy to ask questions. It is hard to accept that we do not always get answers. When we’re broken, it is easy to give up on God. It is hard to trust Him. When we’re devastated, it is easy to blame God. It is more difficult to praise Him.
Most of all, it seems impossible to believe in a God who would let this happen.
But isn’t that what we always do? We blame God for tragedy, for an unhappy ending, for sitting idly by while we are destroyed. This is the human condition; we always come in at the tragedy and fail to see that this is a love story still playing itself out.
This tragedy isn’t the end. Destruction never has the final say. All the power of darkness can never extinguish the unwavering promise of Light.
This has always been a romance between our wandering human hearts and a God who is faithful to the promises of His word. He promised that He would never leave us. If we feel abandoned, we can only blame our lack of faith in his promise. If we feel hopeless, only
He promises life. He promises rebirth. He promises rebuilding. He promises redemption.
Yes, there can be redemption through this pain, because God is mighty to save.
It’s hard to see right now. The news only shows the images of grief and loss and sadness, but in the distance, I know many Haitians gather every night to worship God, to glorify Him in the midst of their loss.
They are not hopeless. Neither am I.

Starting over.

Every time I start to keep a blog, it inevitably gets pushed to the back of my mind, shoved under the ever-growing pile of other things to do. School. Work. Falcon. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
I realized that I don't really remember much of what happened last quarter. Sure, I remember that it happened, but I don't know what I did with my time, because I wasn't having fun. I wasn't hanging out with friends. I wasn't laughing.
Last quarter was terrible, so bad that it made me consider transferring to UW.
I want winter to be different. I cannot say how successful I'll be in this attempt, but that's my goal. I know what to expect from my schedule, and I know - I really know - that I can handle whatever life throws my way.
I don't want to look back at college and see four years of papers and classwork and miserable memories. I've done that before and, in the rear view mirror, high school looks exactly like what lies ahead.