Quizzes and Controversial Dreams

( Quizzes Galore! )

( Random HP Pairing Thingy )

I'm sad I didn't get to go to Jessica's concert. Mom and Dad are off at dinner, and I don't know how to get to Goshen, and, even if I did, I wouldn't trust myself to drive there in my condition, ESPECIALLY considering what happened the LAST time I drove myself to an ESCO concert.

Apparently there was a guy that looked like Sirius that sat behind her.

I am suddenly amazed with the amount I have to do this week before I leave for Switzerland. I have vowed to fill at least 3 hours of musical set construction and 3 hours of NHS volunteering (though I would LIKE to fulfill all 6 of the musical set construction, and as many as possible for the NHS). I have a brunch and a dinner tomorrow, and Grama comes on Tuesday or Thursday for our pre-Christmas, and Papa and Jana are having dinner with us on Tuesday. We leave on Christmas Eve.

This leaves very little time for all of the things I really wanted to do with my vacation.

*Grumbles*

Yeah, I know, I really shouldn't complain, since I get to go to Switzerland.

I am almost done with The Poisonwood Bible. It was best until it switched into the sections that show them all later. Those are good, but a little less realistic, and not so consummate and consecutive as the others. I really like the book, though. I might just do it for my presentation. It was published in 1998.

It's unsettling, in a way. The way Kingsolver writes is just so . . . deep . . . or wise, or something, a sort of omnipotent edge that pushes me off-kilter a little bit.

I think it may have a lot to do with my deliriousness. I am still not getting better from this confounded cold. It gives me delirious dreams even when I'm not on Nyquil.

I rang bells for the Salvation Army today, through Rotary. I got two tubes of free wrapping paper and I was so confused by the church group that was handing them out that I almost forgot to thank them and must have looked utterly confused as I took them. The wrapping paper, though thoroughly unrelated the the Salvation Army, helped us out a lot, though; people felt obligated to donate when they received something free moments before.

They had attached little papers that advertised their church to each tube . . . something about how "God wrapped his gift to us," and then stated the second half of (one of) my favorite Bible verses (and one of the only ones I can give the actual name to: Luke, 2:9). "And she gave birth to her firstborn, a son, and she wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, for there was no room for them at the inn."

I don't know why I like it so much.

Everyone always gets so disturbed about my Mary dream. Mrs. Hook was like, "Have you talked to anyone about this?" when she heard just parts of it when I was going on about it in Creative Writing class.

Though I think it's pretty certain I'm not Mary. The dream was followed a few days later. So, if I wasn't just tripping on Nyquil or thinking about religion too much before I went to sleep, and God actually did choose me to be the next Mary, he sure turned me down . . . that was the worst period of my life . . . CHUNKS . . . he turned me down quite violently.

If God chooses you to be the vessel of the Messiah and then turns you down, are you damned to Hell?

I think it was just a dream.

Then again, maybe Joan of Arc was just high and Moses spend just a little too much time in the desert sun.

Talk about a Messiah complex.

I don't know that I've been to church since that. Maybe something weird will happen if I do.

Whoosh, I need to get some sleep, and stop reading deep things before bed. The Poisonwood Bible even gave me something trippy and depressing last night.

Quizzes and Controversial Dreams

( Quizzes Galore! )

( Random HP Pairing Thingy )

I'm sad I didn't get to go to Jessica's concert. Mom and Dad are off at dinner, and I don't know how to get to Goshen, and, even if I did, I wouldn't trust myself to drive there in my condition, ESPECIALLY considering what happened the LAST time I drove myself to an ESCO concert.

Apparently there was a guy that looked like Sirius that sat behind her.

I am suddenly amazed with the amount I have to do this week before I leave for Switzerland. I have vowed to fill at least 3 hours of musical set construction and 3 hours of NHS volunteering (though I would LIKE to fulfill all 6 of the musical set construction, and as many as possible for the NHS). I have a brunch and a dinner tomorrow, and Grama comes on Tuesday or Thursday for our pre-Christmas, and Papa and Jana are having dinner with us on Tuesday. We leave on Christmas Eve.

This leaves very little time for all of the things I really wanted to do with my vacation.

*Grumbles*

Yeah, I know, I really shouldn't complain, since I get to go to Switzerland.

I am almost done with The Poisonwood Bible. It was best until it switched into the sections that show them all later. Those are good, but a little less realistic, and not so consummate and consecutive as the others. I really like the book, though. I might just do it for my presentation. It was published in 1998.

It's unsettling, in a way. The way Kingsolver writes is just so . . . deep . . . or wise, or something, a sort of omnipotent edge that pushes me off-kilter a little bit.

I think it may have a lot to do with my deliriousness. I am still not getting better from this confounded cold. It gives me delirious dreams even when I'm not on Nyquil.

I rang bells for the Salvation Army today, through Rotary. I got two tubes of free wrapping paper and I was so confused by the church group that was handing them out that I almost forgot to thank them and must have looked utterly confused as I took them. The wrapping paper, though thoroughly unrelated the the Salvation Army, helped us out a lot, though; people felt obligated to donate when they received something free moments before.

They had attached little papers that advertised their church to each tube . . . something about how "God wrapped his gift to us," and then stated the second half of (one of) my favorite Bible verses (and one of the only ones I can give the actual name to: Luke, 2:9). "And she gave birth to her firstborn, a son, and she wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, for there was no room for them at the inn."

I don't know why I like it so much.

Everyone always gets so disturbed about my Mary dream. Mrs. Hook was like, "Have you talked to anyone about this?" when she heard just parts of it when I was going on about it in Creative Writing class.

Though I think it's pretty certain I'm not Mary. The dream was followed a few days later. So, if I wasn't just tripping on Nyquil or thinking about religion too much before I went to sleep, and God actually did choose me to be the next Mary, he sure turned me down . . . that was the worst period of my life . . . CHUNKS . . . he turned me down quite violently.

If God chooses you to be the vessel of the Messiah and then turns you down, are you damned to Hell?

I think it was just a dream.

Then again, maybe Joan of Arc was just high and Moses spend just a little too much time in the desert sun.

Talk about a Messiah complex.

I don't know that I've been to church since that. Maybe something weird will happen if I do.

Whoosh, I need to get some sleep, and stop reading deep things before bed. The Poisonwood Bible even gave me something trippy and depressing last night.