Self Disgust Runs Deep Then Pours Out

I owe you an apology. I have been bitter and arrogant and have refused to believe your change. I should not need proof of your change just because I am bruised by the old you. I know I need to tell you this either in person or by some other means, and I'm supposing I should go by the most embarrassing method.

Chances are you have no idea that I have despised you. It is even less likely you know the reasons why. I did not hate you solely because of your words. I hated you because you were my obsession. I hated you because I hated myself for obsessing over your attention, for idolizing you, and for objectifying you. I hate you because I so dearly hate myself. I think another reason I may hate you is because, yet again, I've connected you with her. I feel as though the underlying theme to all of my problems is her.

I'm sorry. I'd like to start over, if that's possible. But it probably isn't. We've never had anything in common to begin with. But regardless, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being unfair, for holding things against you, for not accepting you into the Family like I should have.

Please, Lord, break this obsession and take away my hatred, my bitterness which rots me. This is not who You've created me to be.

Starting to Lose Confidence Already

"Mediocrity is never going to work for you. It's funny you try, really; it really is. When you go a way different from everyone else, He will bring people to meet you there. I know you're lonely. Being a leader is lonely, and you're not even in a position of leadership; you're just trying to live your college life. People are always going to criticize you, to question you."

You probably don't remember, but you've said something like this to me before. I don't remember when or where or why, but I remember trying to draw something based on it. "You will never be the one to fit in," you said. "You'll be the one to create the molds."

Which is funny because as much as I've loved being unique and different, and as much as I've come to terms with being a loner, I've hated the fact that my life's purpose was merely being a teacher. Don't get me wrong, teachers are vastly important; without them I'd have no thirst for knowledge.

But I don't want to be just another teacher leading another boring, orthodox, predictable life.

So you're saying I am going to do something beyond belief, something crazy, and exciting, and probably life threatening? I'm ok with that, been ok with it ever since realizing my name - my name is my future - the lamb, the sacrifice on the altar. I'm ok with that (I think; I suppose I won't know until it happens) since it means I'll never be restless and I'll always spread life from my own core.

But what the crap am I supposed to be doing? I wish I had some idea how to prepare for it. I feel like I'll be knocked off balance because I'm inadequate. But I guess I'll always be inadequate next to You, eh? Whatever, but You know the deal. I don't want to have a family. Too much work, especially if You're planning on throwing me into the furnace. Why bring kids and a husband into it too? I can handle it with You; I'm a loner remember?

Well, if You'd give me a means to fight, a smaller scale battle to start with, I'd do it. I think. I'm awfully confident in my abilities to fight, but I'm just as worried about my ability to flake out.

Hope I don't suck at this.

Drowning Yet More Alive Than Ever

This is why no man should ever call me beautiful, why no one should even joke about it through the grapevine. Maybe once I stop fantasizing about it, overthinking it, You'll actually bring me to someone meaningful. I wonder if I had dated, had been called beautiful by my dates, my boyfriends, I'd stop overthinking the compliment. But then again, I've never been attractive enough to date. Many of the girls around me have, but I've usually been the comforter.

Which is fine, honestly. I realize that I do not have to be attractive outwardly because my life is not about that. The world might be about that, but I am not. I am allowed, however, to remind men and women alike of their beauty. And even if beauty has been called a feminine term, I feel it applies so deeply to men as well.

When I call a man beautiful, it is because I know his soul is pure and full of love and love is beautiful. I can't even describe it otherwise or explain what I mean by calling it beautiful. Beauty is pure, beyond skin, deep, permeating, soul enriching. You sink into its depths and come out alive, gulping air because you are joy, and thirst for life. You've tasted and you've seen and you can't come back because you'd rather choke on that richness than live meaninglessly - dead, for all intents and purposes.

I wish I had the words to describe myself tonight. I simply am not eloquent, even through my typing. Disappointing really.

Break Down

"I asked, 'When am I the most myself? No defenses, no anything, just my actual self.' Do you know what God said?"

"What?"

" 'When you are broken down and crying.' "

A wall goes up
automatic defense,
despite just asking what I'd be
without that.

I think of all the selves I have,
same adrenaline
rushing through my veins everytime I get a new
reaction, blasting, confusion on your face

You don't know me
who's just running this race
without a label without a plan
wondering 'is this just how it ends?'

No love, no respect
I can't give it on my own
Don't receive it, can't believe it
too much and I disown it

I see all these people with a love that is their own
and I break it, take it,
see this smile on my face?
believe it, hate it, hate me, hate this
I can't handle undeniable true bliss

Jealous. I want it for my own
but the burden is too heavy
and I can't bear to stand alone

I hate me for who I am
but I do not want to change
Because change equals effort
and I'm too much to blame
for everything I have to hold up
Standards too high and I'm just about to blow up

I can't handle being different,
being anything but me
but I know You're whispering
Trust You not me

Trust? Trust?
I can't handle it,
too much and I lose it
after raging on my own
inequities

pretty please
I won't get on my hands and knees
Too proud, too arrogant
You might as well get used to it

"Don't tell Me that you're tough,
don't tell Me that you're brave.
Don't tell Me that you're junk,
because that's not what I create.

I made you to glorify Me,
made you to honor Me completely.
I chisel and I take and you just like to talk,
Throw up walls, thinking that'll make Me stop.

I love you too much
to leave you just the way you are.
You don't deserve Me and you know it
but I love you with everything.

See these scars? Touch my hands
How do these make you feel?
Broken, shameful?

Good, now let Me finish you."

"It looks like we both gotta let our guard down."

A Christmas Story

I think I would give my right arm to have a warm blanket and a pillow. Just one pillow. I live in a sketchy part of town, someplace where the windows don't quite shut and the door hangs just a bit ajar. That wouldn't be so bad if it didn't get so cold at night during the winter. I sleep on the floor. My younger siblings need the mattress. Which is fine because I could sleep anywhere - if I had a pillow and a blanket.

Mom asks me what I want for Christmas this year. I would feel stupid asking her for a pillow and a blanket so instead I say, "Nothing". She presses me and instead I tell her I'll think about it. Then she asks Raymond and Celine and they go on and on and on about the toys they want for Christmas. "Mom and Dad can't get you everything you want," I scold. But Mom just waves me away and lets them have their fun making their lists.


Dad tells me we've been invited to a Christmas party. There will be games for the kids and a free lunch, even a visit from 'Mrs. Claus'. I'm surprised he evens wants to socialize with a bunch of other parents while the kids are doing whatever. (I don't plan on playing the stupid games; I am 12 after all, way too old for musical chairs and whatever else.) Mom must've talked him into it.


We're at the Christmas party, hosted by a bunch of kids who want to support the community. Cool cause, but I'm just not into it. Mrs. Claus has brought a bunch of presents, gifts I guess they are going to hand out to all the kids here. I'm expecting something stupid, like a game or a toy. Raymond and Celine are all psyched up for the gift giving. But before that they try to get me to play some of their games. I'm too old for kid stuff, I say, and they smile and leave me alone as they invite my siblings over instead.

After lunch they finally start giving out the gifts. I just want Ray and Cel to get their presents so we can leave. I hear Mrs. Claus call the names (Ray and Cel get exactly what they asked for - games and toys; so that's why Mom wanted to know what I wanted for Christmas.) and all of the sudden she calls mine. I'm confused, so confused I don't get up to claim my prize, so one of the volunteers brings it over. It's big, almost too hard to hold. I don't open it because she's called my name again. Suddenly I have three big packages and I keep looking around waiting for someone to say there's been a mistake.

My parents urge me to open them. I don't really want to because I know they are stupid presents and I don't really want anyone to scold me for being ungrateful and disappointed. Instead my siblings come over and yank the wrapping off for me. What I see stuns me.

A blanket. And two pillows. Not one but two. I'm so confused at my gifts. These are stupid, I try saying. But instead my voice cracks and I can't see. Why am I crying? So what if I would have had to sleep on the cold, hard floor? So what if absolutely adore the color purple - the exact shade of the pillows and the blanket? So what if someone somewhere knew exactly what I wanted?

Stop trying to put on a front, I hear inside my head. So instead I cuddle one pillow to my chest and I smile into it as my tears melt away.

Wounded For Our Transgressions

I often forget that battle weary soldiers are often drawn to veterans with the deepest battle scars. Hearing his testimony (however short it may have been) reminded me that I am not alone. He reminded me that we all fight. Some of us still wage war; some of us have conquered in victory.

Thank you. I admire your battle scars. And maybe one day, I too will be bold enough to showcase my own.

May His love heal your wounds, but may He leave the scars so you are always reminded of His rescue.

Remember Me?

The presentation began the way I remembered putting it together; but I never got the chance to finish it the way I intended. November 22. He would have been 23 that day.

I was in my favorite class, giving a presentation, on the birthday of my late cousin. The first slides went well. Then the third to last slide appeared. I had made an acrostic to summarize the five points of my presentation. I didn't remember spelling the acrostic the way it appeared on the slide.

T. O. M. M. Y. Tommy. The name of my late cousin.

I froze. I couldn't speak, my mouth dry like cotton, the wad caught in my throat. All I could remember was his death, his bloody head seeping brain fluid after the doctor pronounced he could no more to stop the concussion's swelling. It cut off his oxygen. Tommy died, shortly after such a painful birth into the world.

Suddenly these words echoed in my mind - "It should have been you. Tommy was full of promise. What promise do you have? None. You should be dead."

The last thing I remember was screaming, seeing red, then fading into black.


I woke up in a white room with padded walls. I couldn't move. My arms were bound to my body by something, but I couldn't even sit up or turn my head far enough to tell. A figure loomed into my vision.

"Wha- What?" I tried rasping. My voice was slurred and still dry. I must have been screaming for hours.

"You were proclaimed insane, D. Remember? No, probably not. You'll probably even forget this conversation." That voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't place who. The face was blocked by light and my eyes started to close again. "After the trial? You couldn't even appear in court. You were practically a vegetable." What? What was he saying?

"You went berserk and killed someone, D. You wouldn't stop screaming, crying, shaking. You were tried insane and you were declared insane. Where else did you expect to end up?"

What?! No, I would never- but even as he was telling it, I remembered. I remembered seeing my dead cousin, remembered trying to claw away from him. I grabbed something, something sharp. I remember plunging it into his chest, hoping somehow that would finally destroy the terrible hold his memory had on me.

Then I had faded back into reality. One of my own classmates. I'd killed him. He'd been married, a hopeful graduate with a job lined up after getting his degree. His wife, another classmate, screamed and cried, falling to her knees. Then I screamed and cried too.

What happened to me?

Perspective

I choked over it today. She asked me if I was going on a mission's trip. Lindz mentioned she wasn't and my face darkened. I almost cried over it. My voice wavered and I was off guard to You (just like I was when You used my testimony at youth). Which means it's back...

This stupid passion is growing again. But You're perfecting it. I know that now.

She almost cried when I asked her what disappointed her most. She was selfless. She's been given so much, she said, that it hurts when she sees that her friends have so little. She wasn't disappointed that she wasn't fulfilling her potential. Because she knows already that it's not about her.

Wow. I want that. Maybe. I ask You for things than ask You to take them away. I asked for transparency today, and it was well. I almost told Lindz. But not yet. She will know about me, my past, my sin, my chains -now broken- that will always be a part of my story. She may run.
But I think she'll be supportive.

I am finding friendship again.

I think she is tortured. I remember sobbing over her when our floor met for Spiritual Emphasis Week. I remember screaming into my fist, trying to draw blood just to prove that she did not have to endure pain alone. From that moment, I knew I'd be there.

But of this she is unaware. Because I cannot share this depth unless I share my own.

I must stop recoiling at his face and his name. I must stop shoving him away because I think of her. He is not her. She is not him. He probably doesn't even remember. In fact, this hatred is selfish. I am bruised because I did not protect her, because I stabbed her in the back. Because I am not strong. I am selfish.

What can I do to release her? Perhaps she is released, but she too will forever be a part of my story.

As I sit here in this chair, wishing for anything

Why am I always angry with You at night? What gives? I'm freaking out over here because I can't control my spending. Ever. This is why no one should give me access to anything ever. I will use it and abuse and go buck wild crazy. I'm PISSED that I can't get a grip on my spending because it means that I'll never get a grip on anything else. GOD, I'm so useless!

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO BE DOING?! You've taken writing from me, You haven't called me to anything even though everyone else and their mother here has heard You. What about me?! Aren't I good for something?! ...Please? I'll serve soup in a kitchen all my life if You want me to.

Just call me. Call me and don't take it back. Stop doing that, please. Stop letting my imagination run frantic if none of it matters.

I don't want Your heart either. I hate sobbing over anything. And when You sob... I can't breathe. My throat closes up and I want to vomit. I want to do something but You only show me the problem, never the solution.

I will never forget that Senior Trip. Ever. I will never forget crying against the wall when she was sobbing on the floor, broken by her abortion and her confusing relationship. I will never forget when he was drunk out of his mind, but he was sobbing too because he was never the friend he wanted to be. I will never forget how no one else felt it. Instead they all gossiped. "I guess it's true", "Sounds like it is. I mean why else would he..."

I will never forget how angry I was in that moment. How much I wanted to scream at all of them. "You know nothing! Shut up shut up shut up!"

I'll never forget how I knew nothing too. How I let her beat the crap out of her best friend and I just stood there and watched, assuming she deserved it. How immature and stupid and utterly sickening I am.

I have forgotten his callousness. I hope I will not speak to him again and it will all flood back into me. Maybe I should forget him too. Go our own ways. We were never best friends. Just friends. Hardly acquaintances. Sharing interests but never any depth.

I stiffen at his presence. I purposely avoid eye contact. I cannot re-filter him.

I pretend that I am fine because I have no possible way to say all of this to anyone. But I am honest. Or trying to be. Such a conditional word. To be truly honest, would I not have to explain everything to them? From the earliest days I can remember, to my broken relationships, to my gluttony, to my lust, to my thoughts of suicide, to my regrets, to my hatred, to my apathy, to my selfishness, and all that is in between.

And who has time for that much stuff? Not even I do.

All at Once it Comes

I think we most often forget who we belong to. I think I forget that I am not my own and I am not my parents'. I have no dreams or aspirations because I am an empty vessel. I am blank, not even a mirror for others to see themselves.

Those are the Empaths, and I realized why I was not one. I am blank. I will either tell you what you want to hear or I will tell you the opposite. I am not an Empath because I do not dwell on the depressions and brokenness of others. I will remember them in prayer and I will feel compassion and a brief moment of being in their position, but I will not feel sick for days.

I am empty, blank, and I reflect only what I can muster up. Generally I am without emotion. Usually I am a failure at being a friend because I know so little of social etiquette and true depth because of my broken relationships. I leave my friends in the dust. I fail them, I know. I will yell, scream, roll my eyes, passive aggressively ignore them, and all other things.

I know one such Empath who read me like a book, which I hated. I hate when other people know what I'm thinking. But I suppose that is a form of pride. I hate being an open book and I hate trying to purposely impart my feelings. My communication is so horrific that I do not communicate myself to anyone and I come off as proud or uncaring when I am genuinely not.

I've lost relationships. And because I've lost them, I feel You will ask me to cut off more. So why get attached? Why bother? Why have dreams and aspirations when You will demand my whole heart, then rip them from me?

This is why I love nothing other than the obvious. This is why I am a Learner; I will thirst for everything so You can't possibly hold it all back. I challenge You because I hate what you put me through.

This is why I am Paul. This is why I will not be called to marriage nor to children. And suddenly Aya's point of view makes a world of sense. Not that that would've mattered considering her history with reciprocated crushes. (Not that that is a bad thing, though I have come to the conclusion that I am green with envy whenever someone mentions a crush. I am harsh to break their dreams because mine have been so broken and I can't stand to see someone else with as much happiness as I want and deserve.)

As though I deserve anything. Ever. Not even life. I deserve death. Which is why I think I am finally ok with dying without accomplishing anything. Everyone wants to go out with a bang, make this huge impact. But no one realizes that it is in fact their arrogance that makes them want to impact so many. Who says You've called us to it? Who says You've called me to something bigger than me? That's not accurate. Your Kingdom is much bigger than me, whether I save one person or one hundred thousand. (There it goes again - "I", "me", like I'm the one who changes another's heart.)

I've also realize that I am a social invalid because of my pride. I do not risk anything to be friendly and I do not risk myself to join in something outside of my clique. I do not risk being awkward or honest or transparent because I am afraid of someone seeing me as less than what I show myself to be.

Even as I type this post, it has become all about me me me. And there are so many others who need prayer or support or encouragement. So I apologize for not being there as a support. I am sorry I stood by when you needed me or wanted me to say something. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I gloss over your heart's greatest aches. I am sorry.

WhatisthisIdon'teven-

I've been noticing something over the past couple of weeks. Ever since I made the decision to stop being passionate about anything, I have, in fact, stopped being passionate about anything.

Crazy, right?

I feel like Clara Barton. I did a report on her back in the 5th grade and I still remember one specific point I made about her character and personality. She lived to please people. Her parents wanted her to be a school teacher; being too shy to speak up, she did. She was good at it too. Then she got into nursing and that was her career passion.

I feel like I'm not really supposed to be an English teacher. Some days I can picture it and other days I realize just how much I abuse the language, trip over my words, misinterpret books, never read between the lines, mess up every sentence I want to communicate, and how incredibly and annoyingly introverted I am. I'm too afraid to do anything ever.

UGH.

Sometimes I feel like I'm in my element when I'm up in that booth, typing out lyrics, and switching system checks. But then I realize just how incredibly little I know and how utterly futile it is to attempt to advance up the ranks. I don't belong in a higher rank. I have no ear for music, thus cannot sound check. Ever. Unless that's something you can learn, which I doubt. I'm disparagingly shakey and thus cannot hold a camera. My lack of intelligence and knack frustrates me.

I hate that I know nothing. It's so weird coming from a school where I had a reputation as the smart kid, the jerk, kind of the top dog (thanks to ASB). Here I'm in a whole other gene pool of talent and leadership and I realize that I wasn't even a leader or talented to begin with! I was with a bunch of other people who depicted me that way.

Everyone here can sing, play an instrument, draw or paint, is a leader of something, or is otherwise known. I've got nothing tangible or obvious. Maybe there's something buried way down in there, I don't know. I'm a frickin' junior and I have no time to impact anybody; I can't even impact myself! Maybe if I were a freshman I could work up the ranks, but now I'm barely legal, two years ahead of myself, and about to start a career.

This is crazy.

And another thing (see how much I ramble!? I had a whole different point for starting this blog entry) I am starting to remember how stupidly pointless stuff is. Like dating. Sorry, but it's stupid. You don't have time for that! You're in frickin' college! STOP THE FRICKIN FLIRTING YOU IMBECILES! You have papers to write and tests to study for. You have a career you're training in. Thank GOD I've chosen Paul's lifetime committment. Way simplier that way and a lot less drama.

Not that THAT matters because I can't do ANYTHING for Your frickin' kingdom! Come ON! You shot down Haiti! What else am I supposed to do?! Donate some stuff to a homeless shelter. Yeah, how fulfilling that is. Maybe for a day or two until it's over. Then I'm just as hopelessly vacant as ever. UGH I'm really frustrated with You. Again. (We fight a lot don't we? Ugh, whatever, I need it as motivation for supporting my faith.)

Thank You it's Friday. Almost.

I can't think about anything else to rant about so...here.

OH no wait. WHY DO I KEEP THINKING ABOUT DAN AND SICI?! I'm done with Sici; I know You're not throwing me back in there no matter how much I think about how unsaved she is. I did what I could and I screwed up royally. Everytime I see Dan I think of Sici and THAT'S starting to really piss me off. My perspective of him is colored, I know. Because I keep thinking of every promise I broke to Sici. And I can't get him through a new filter.

I'm going to sleep. Wake me when I stop feeling angry.

Denial

I've known for a week or so now that I can't go to Haiti. Because I'm not a Sci-Tech major. And that wasn't such a big deal. I figured, I'll see if CrossWalk is going to host a non-major trip to Haiti. If not, I'd go straight to Convoy. Things look increasingly complicated on all fronts.

And now I'm wondering if I am called at all.

It's not the struggle, I'm worried about. I'd be fine with that if I hadn't been in Essential Christianity today.

Apparently being called depends on other people advocating ways to achieve your call.

No big deal, right? Until my professor mentioned a student he'd had who felt called to be a doctor. But after six years of trying to apply to medical school, he gave up. It wasn't working. Because although he'd done everything right, everyone else slammed the door.

At first I was thinking he didn't try hard enough. Then I got worried. What if God purposely kept the doors shut? What if He had in fact called him to something, but the student had confused it or muddled it by his own desires? I'm noticing that a lot here; dreams of nursing only to be called to make the tough decision to switch majors to missions. "But God, I can nurse in foreign countries. This is what I want."

"No."

I've watched girls here sob over crushed passions. I'm wondering if that'll be me too.

This is why I try not to love anything. If I do, I fear it'll be taken away. That's part of why I don't want him. I have a deep, unnerving fear that you will destroy me if you take him. That's why I'm so bothered by this dream I had last night. A dream of massacre in Haiti. A dream where we weren't there to stop it, but sobbing in each other's arms as we watched the live footage played on the news. I fear you will take away everything dear to me.

I'd call You cruel if I didn't think there was a much bigger picture I was missing. Blind faith, they call it.

Then I suppose it's the blind leading the blind.

Blurb

"What a useless thing," he said. "People are so predictable. Life is one circle. Birth, love, death. Throw in some abuse and somehow these people get compassion. What's wrong with this picture?"

"The compassion, sir," he replied. "Abuse should equal turning away from God, not to him."

"Exactly. So why isn't it working with her?"

Because I've got her safely in hand.

Does GO = Stay...?

Friday Chapel Service held a special surprise for me.

Crosswalk was announcing where they were headed for missions trips this year.

I had no idea they were doing this today; I thought I was waiting for Tuesday for the make or break moment of my current existence. As I walked into the chapel, Crosswalk member were handing each student a blue card, listing each of their services - children's ministry, community service, and, of course, missions.

My heart sank when I couldn't find it on the list. And then...there it was. Towards the bottom. A Spring Break missions trip held by the Science-Tech Department. I started shouting and jumping up and down, trying not to freak out but probably failing miserably.

I marked the box and circled it over and over and decked it out with stars - Haiti.

Now, they mentioned it was a medical based trip, which shouldn't be a problem. I'm not in the Sci-Tech Dep. but I don't think you're bound by restrictions of major, nor whether you are aspiring to be a neurosurgeon or not (though I did instantly consider Fiji and Bo, so shoutout to you Mr. I'mma-get-married-in-the-next-eight-months).

Regardless, I'll be at the meeting on Tuesday to ask said -potentially stupid- questions.

I was talking to the folks about this today when I phoned home. I told them that instead of taking the academic trip to Greece, I would go to Haiti because "As corny as this sounds," I said, "I feel my life's purpose is to go to Haiti."

Pause. Quickly I amended to, "At least once."

But the reality of the statement hit me. What if I am supposed to go?

And stay?

Tell me, Send me, GO

I've got to get there. I've got to go. Please please PLEASE be on the list for CrossWalk's missions trips. Waiting until, what, the 14th? Come ON, I can't wait that long.

If you're not on the list, I'm going to Convoy directly. I'm going this year. If I don't go this year... Ugh, man, no, Lord, please. I finally have some semblance of passion in my life and if I let it die...

I have some inkling of my purpose, something greater outside of these four walls, this however-small-big-whatever square footage, outside of this life. Please.

No, I don't care about him. He'll come whenever You want him there. He's lost much meaning to me now that I've exhausted the idea. Don't let him come back. Keep him out of mind until then. I don't want him to be referenced, I don't want to think of him, I don't want to hear talk of him. I want to stop thinking every one I meet could be him or lead me to him.

I want to stop obsessing.

I want to go. That's the most important thing to me now. Well, other than You, obviously. I need a physical reminder. I was going to draw their flag, but go figure it's the most complicated thing ever. Maybe just their motto...? Some memorabilia somewhere? (Like people here would carry- ...Hm. Maybe I could hit up Amazon. Or more locally, get deeper into the recesses of the Thrift Store. Speaking of, kickin' dress, Lord.)

Off to find a physical source of inspiration.

Much love, God Bless,
EPD

(P.S. Got any prayer requests? Even leaving an "unspoken" in the comments is perfectly fine.)

Darkness Overtakes

Perhaps you'd think much of me, or perhaps you'd think very little.

I am the wallflower.

Perhaps you'd call me strange, or perhaps you'd never care.

I am the one who hides.

Perhaps you'd find me beautiful...But what point is there in beauty?

I am the monster.

Perhaps my obsession takes a new form.

Then I'd be alone.

Perhaps you'd pity me or hate me.

Perhaps you'd love me or leave me.

Perhaps I'll never find you. Perhaps it doesn't matter.

Perhaps I have never in fact changed. Perhaps "I am who I am".

Perhaps I am alone here. Perhaps everything is superficial or what is real isn't or what isn't real is. Perhaps I know nothing and perhaps I find knowledge, to do what with?, nothing. What good is anything or nothing?

Perhaps I am no longer as unique as I thought. Perhaps I have no dreams or aspirations because I am stupid, weak, and useless. Perhaps everything is a lie and I can't tell up from down.

I don't think I'll be transformed. Because everytime I am, I never stick. I lose myself and that shouldn't terrify me but it does. Because all I have is me (whatever that means). I lost You and that sucks. I don't listen anymore because I'm too terrified of my own shadow. Why am I so ridiculously weak? Why am I so stupid? Why am I so...disappointed?

Ortberg, I seek answers in your book. Spirit...Spirit, I know you're upset with me. But I-

Stop. Stop the excuses. Stop the walls and the lies. What happened to transparency?

I lost it when my bleeding brokenness scabbed over. I lost feeling in my life and it's strange because I know why I want to do everything the world has to offer and why I want to devour color and beauty.

Because I'm empty. I'm so lost. I think that all the knowledge I can master will fulfill me. I think that if I could just live in a world of color, of beauty, if I experience everything there is to experience, I'll be happy. I'll have lived life to the fullest.

But it won't matter. I won't be remotely satisfied. That's why I've lost aspiration and dreaming. Because what's the use? What's the use in dressing up or playing with creativity? Nothing. I'm surrounded by people I'm already starting to love but I can't break free. I can't get out of this uncomfortably socially awkward box I've put myself in.

I'm so lost. I keep trying to hide from my emotions, from these feelings, because why should they matter? I think I'm trying to recover my self-importance. Back home I had positions and power and authority. Here I'm no one. The slate's wiped clean, but I have nothing to show for it. I'll just fade into the background. Because, really, how important am I? I'm not. I'm not worth recognizing or knowing. I'll be one of the one hundred girls here with the same name and no one will be able to distinguish me from any other.

I've lost myself. And I'm not sure I want to find me. I'm actually rather terrified of responsibility and obligation. I fear commitment. Actually, I think that's why I'll never find you. Because if I did, I wouldn't commit to you. I can hardly commit to my own family or my own Creator. How could I commit to a stranger? I've built you up in my mind. You aren't real. You don't exist. You'll hurt me. And I'll want to manipulate you.

I've forgotten how dark I can be. How I can twist and pull and scheme. I'll do that. Just like I've done to everyone else... I'm underhanded and selfish. I know why I'll never find you.

Because I'm ugly, inside and out. I'm grotesque and hideous. I'm a beast. I sneer with wicked eyes and gnash my fangs in thirst for blood. I will want to hurt you.

It's best we never meet.

The College Update

OK. It only took me a week to get to this so I'll be brief/detailed/organized/everywhere. Thursday we flew out at 6:30AM on Allegiant. Lo and behold, three hours later, I'm introduced to Jessica, a returning student to Evangel, who was sitting just behind me. She's rooming with Randall, a fantastic basketball player from a rival high school. We exchange numbers and part ways.

We get to the hotel my dad booked and are disappointed to learn that the owner is not so friendly. And there's bugs EVERYWHERE (ok, not really, but there were six flies and one creeper mantis thing just chillin' above my head). We move rooms and the bugs are less but still around.

Bright side, that owner is the exception to the general congeniality here. EVERYONE is nice. It's insane. Such a dramatic change of pace. For example, we went to WalMart to buy crap for my room (like a mini-fridge) and my dad asks the cashier how she's doing. She replies that she's doing great, where my dad says, "You can't be; you're working."

"But I've got Jesus in my heart," she says, "so why wouldn't I be great?"

DUDE! I'm living here permanently.

Ok that was a lie. Maybe. I dunno. I can't imagine living back home after I've been there all my life. Whatever, not the point of this post.

So Friday we move in. I have no roommate, which sucks since she's the third one I've chased out, but it's equally awesome because I have an entire room to myself. So lots of set up and "launch" (basically orientation) activities later, I spend my first night in my new home. Lovely, especially since I didn't get any sleep the night before with my parents the chainsaw snorers.

Saturday I was on my own because I had Launch activities all day, then Sunday I ate my last meal with my parents before they dipped out. I miss them like crazy, but less in a homesick way and more in a "Man they do everything for me; they deserve a break from me" kind of way. And they are always a phone call away.

OH! Friday I met my best friend here so far. (Actually, she's tied with everyone else, hahaha). I wore my DeathNote bag to my Launch group meeting, she approached me to compliment it, we talked over anime and spool knitting (a spool knitter?! YES!) and hit it off right away. She's from an insanely small school like me, k-12, with the same weird teacher stereotypes I got back home. Lindsay is a graphic arts major (legit).

I also met several girls in my part of the hall (I'm on the third floor by the way, meaning my parents and I had to lug everything up here. No, there isn't an elevator, stop asking.) One is Gennee, a nursing major, with a vibrant personality. She's so sweet and her older sis is the RA on the second floor. (Her sis Kattee is also a knitter. Dude, everyone knits/crochets here! So stoked) Their mom was a riot; she really knows how to schmooze and extract the right info. (She's the reason I knew who to talk to at the Meet with Your Faculty event.)

Speaking of, I meet everyone and their mother in the Education and Humanities Departments. Ok, not everyone, but enough people. I had to switch advisers because apparently being an English Education major means you're a Humanities kid, not an Education one.

Ooookaaaay? Whatever, not important. Except I did have to drop a class. When I'd already rented the book from chegg.com. But that's ok since I have Young Adult Literature now. And I'm psyched. Met the teacher already (who's also an advisor) and he is so cool. WE'RE READING THE GIVER! Ahem. Sorry, had to- AND HOLES! ...I'm a sucker for youth literature I guess.

But yes. I don't think I'll declare a second major or minor or anything yet. The way I see it, I'm probably going to do my Master's program here as well, so I think I'll be able to crank out any other majors/minors I want. I don't know if they have a doctorate program though. I'll have to ask.

Met my suitemate who's nice if not awkward (because I suck at social interaction, especially after we've already talked basics over Facebook, what else do I mention?). Met another floor mate (who's in the opposite side of the hall) named Elly. She's a transfer too. A Journalism major. Epiiic. OH did I mention this place has it's own TV and radio stations? No? Well they do. And I hope Elly gets involved there.

And there's Nikki, who is sooooooo adorable. I love her! She's always saying hi to me and being enthusiastic. Man, I love this place! Oh, and I didn't have shampoo the other night, so I visited a neighbor, kindly asked if I could borrow some, and Olivia gave me a travel size conditioner and shampoo. How nice! I'd've been like, "Um...what?" Again, socially retarded.

What else, what else? There was this dude Caleb who was cool. And this girl Allegra. Javi, Tobi, Chris, and Abbey. All those guys were with me at our AC dinner. They were hilarious and awesome and really on fire.

Speaking of, they were all talking about their passions and I just sat there. I had no idea what I was passion about. I've lost my fire somewhere and I'm going to get it back. Though that's going to be a trying process. Lots of genuine worship, reading, prayer, outreaching, etc. I'm falling back into that apathetic place.

Speaking of (I say that a lot, haha), The Lord's Table is doing alright. I haven't lost weight but I feel lighter in certain places. I couldn't wear a pair of glasses often because my face was too fat and the frames bothered the sides of my head. I'm wearing them right now and I feel fine. And the three rolls on my stomach are starting to morph into two. HOOSHAH! Praise You, Lord!

This part is a tad graphic/uncomfortable, so skip if you'd like. Ugh, I want to get into a workout regiment, but I'm not going to until I heal up my crazy chaffing rash. Went to the nurse today and she thinks it's a yeast infection going down my thighs. That's gross. A yeast infection is already disgusting (especially right now; it's staining all of my underwear like crazy! I'm like a leaky faucet! She said that's probably because I'm ovulating and the antibiotics I was taking for my ear infection killed off good bacteria, which is making the yeast RAMPANT). She gave me a prescription for one pill that should clear it up in a couple days. And she wants me to use my last Monistat dose on my legs (Monistat is this cream you have to use for three days as an OTC treatment for yeast infections. Two guesses on where you inject the cream.)

Ok, graphic part over. I got a ride from my Launch Leader Dodi(who is so funny and terrified to drive) to Walgreen's and got some stuff. I've been using my debit card like crazy! Mostly for books though. Ugh, books. I'm such an idiot. On my Student Portal, there's a button you can click to view your books for your classes. Me being an idiot, I didn't cross reference those with my schedule. Turns out my Essential Christianity class didn't even show on that list. So all the sudden I get the online syllabus for the class and WOOSH! I need five more books.

What?! And the bill ran me $91. Lame. Oh, and I needed 11 individual books for Young Adult Lit. Which wasn't terrible since they were all under five bucks.

Um, ok, what else? I saw my second potential roommate in the Humanities Department, but I forgot to introduce myself. Oh, and everyone from home has a doppelganger here. No lie.

Ok, well that's about it for now. Maybe I'll edit this to include more detail or more organization. But don't hold your breath. Classes start tomorrow so we'll see what happens.

Much love and God Bless,
EPD

Last Youth 8-18-10

Tonight was crazy. The Lord was in it and it was incredible. Everything came together. Jimmy told me last week that I'm giving my testimony -apparently an instant obedience to the Holy Spirit- and the second he says that, I hear, "You're talking about your slavery to masturbation and your relationship with you-know-who."

Oh. Eff.

It was one thing to tell a couple of people about my testimony. It's another to tell everyone in my youth group.

So I'm praying pretty much all week for words from the Spirit. We get into worship tonight and Jimmy starts talking about freedom - interesting since I'm taking about my past slavery. Then Andy -an alumnus who's going to my same college- talks about the freedom you have in going to a Christian college. Then I start talking (well, not me, but Spirit) about my freedom, how I wouldn't be free if my good friend hadn't led me to the settingcaptivesfree.com website and how I wouldn't be free if my King didn't die in my place. Now I start tearing up -out of NOWHERE mind you- because I talk about how I was the one that hurt him but He loved me enough to die for me anyways.

Love. Love is a powerful motivation. "We love because He first loved us." (1 John 4:19) And I love so many people. They have all made such a huge impact in my life and love them for all they do for me.

I just want to take the time to shout out everyone who has made my LIFE tonight. To all of my small group girls - Alexa, Brittany, Kahlia, Sara, Alexis, and Anna. I love each and every one of you and I hate that I'm leaving you. But you guys are in good hands with Brittany. I already wrote everything fantastic about each of you and I gave them to all of you. I could go on and on and on about you guys. Gosh, I love you guys so much. Alexis, your cake is fantastic. I could eat it all the time if cake had no bad nutritional value. ;P

Grace, Sarah, and Heather, ya'll are getting your own dedications later (not sure when since everything is getting crazy at my house).

Andrea, you and I have gotten in fights, but we always seem to have each other's backs. Thank you for all of your fabulous-ness. I still remember volleyball Senior Night, the best Senior Night ever ;).

Bo, why the heck don't we talk more?! This changes now. Imma hit you up on Facebook more so when I get back we'll already be in the habit of talking to each other all the time. You don't know this, but I crazy admire you. Also, that was so nice of you to say that youth would be missing something without me. Thank you.

Daniel, dude you are my brother. I know you hate me and I'm obnoxious and blah, but I really really want to know you more. I want to be there for you. I know there are some issues with us, but I hope we can work past that. You have potential. Don't waste it.

Matt, oh man, you're fourteen! You always make me laugh and I just love your carefree, playful, easygoing attitude. I just love you, man, plain and simple. I will always be able to lift you ;) Do everything to glorify the Lord and you will be running strong.

Doreen, you are the voice amongst the noise. You say want you mean and I can go to you for some seriously tough love. I still remember your words about my lack of control in anything because it's all in God's hands. (You wrote that on my Facebook Birthday note.)

Danielle aka Danny, the most adorable girl I know! We don't know each other well, but I'd like to know you more. You have spunk, charm, and you are surprisingly outgoing. I love that you give your opinion no matter what. Honesty is refreshing; don't lose who you are.

Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. Oh for crying in the night the frito bandito is on the run. I have so enjoyed having you as a youth pastor. You are real and alive and open. Thank you so so so much for giving me the opportunity to speak tonight. You keep everyone going with your sense of humor. I love how everything can roll off your back.

Marcus, a year. A whole year with you and Russ. Oh man. Apple fritters all the way. I'm going to miss you guys up there. I loved our random conversations and how we always picked on each other. You are amazingly gifted and I love your Tri House group. More gospel rap PLEASE! (Though I never got to your house for tri tip...) If you ever need something media related, please don't hesitate to call/text/Facebook. And thanks for saying that new guy has such big shoes to fill. That was very kind (though untrue).

Michelle, you have always welcomed me with open arms and I thank you so much for that. You are so easy to talk to. You have fed me and consoled me and I thank you again for your refreshing, calming nature. I can't wait to talk to you more!

Carolyn, you know why you're on here :). You will get your own dedication later as well.

Danny, you better kick some serious tail on Student Council. I'm totally serious on my offer - call me whenever. I'll probably give you some obvious advice or I might not have much to give, but I would not mind being involved in the school community process. Let me know when St. Baldrick's is happening again. Maybe I really will shave my head this time...

To everyone - I LOVE ALL OF YOU! I'm going to miss small group and youth group so much. Today I really felt sad to be leaving. A part of me cried out to stay. But have no fear, you will have all forgotten me by Thanksgiving break ;)

Oh and to the prayer group that was in the Spirit to intercede for my man and I to meet... Can't wait to see what happens, ahahaha.

I love you guys. See you soon!

A Revelation from Malcolm in the Middle

I was watching Malcolm in the Middle today. It was the episode where Lois and Hal (the parents) have a pregnancy scare; it's mostly a flashback episode based on Lois's pregnancies with Francis, Reese, Malcolm, and Dewey.

What struck me the most was the ending scene. Lois is about to give birth to Dewey in her backyard (there was a chemistry set incident, thanks to Malcolm, which kept the family from getting back into the house to find the car keys) when she and Hal are fighting. Lois finally says that she can't have another kid if their relationship would continue to suffer like it had been since Francis's birth a couple years earlier. So she says, "Here's what we'll do. I want you to tell me three, no, five, no, SEVEN things about me that you love and I have to believe every one of them."

Hal struggles to figure out seven things he loves about his wife (the first few of them being ridiculous, such as "I love how your toes all look like they came from other people") before he really gets the ball rolling. Then the two start confessing how much they love each other and want to share their lives with each other and would never trade that for anything.

And as I watched this scene, I cried, because it was one of the realist, rawest things I could think of that would make a relationship shine. The fact that the two of them realized they needed to fix their relationship, then sat down and brought back the reasons they loved each other was so honest. Then I thought, I want that - to be able to fight, sit down, and bring up exactly what's wrong, how we fix it, then remember that no matter what, we can find and remember things to love about each other.

Honesty. Truth. Real. Genuine.

Much love and God Bless,
EPD

The Lord's Table

I completed Way of Purity on the settingcaptivesfree.com website and moved onto The Lord's Table. This course is to break bad eating habits. I overeat and eat when I'm bored. Today was Day 3.

The first day was about getting your motivations for taking the course right - glorifying the Lord. Day 2 was about why we eat when we aren't hungry, usually because we want to satisfy ourselves because of a spiritual reason or we feel empty.

Day 3 was feasting on the Lord (i.e. getting into the Word and praying and listening to His voice) to satisfy those desires we got into on Day 2; basically it was to replace the bad eating habits with the good habit of getting into God's presence.

This program has me on an eating plan. Two actually. Eat only when your tummy growls. Then there's the meal plan consisting of liquid, half, normal, and fast days. Liquid days you drink liquids all day except for your last meal. Half days you eat half portions of what you'd normally eat (like if I usually eat three cookies, I only eat one and a half on a half day). Normal days are normal and fast days are no food. Instead of eating at meal times we pray.

Today's a normal day (day one was a half day, day two was liquids day -which I really enjoyed). Tomorrow is my fast day. The program recommends starting the fast day the evening before until the evening of (so tonight after dinner I don't eat, sleep, and I fast until tomorrow evening).

Each week there's two normal days, two half days, two liquid days, and one fast day. No days are back to back (i.e. today and tomorrow can't be normal days, but today and Thursday can be).

I have a mentor in this program, which is awesome, since I didn't get one for Way of Purity. My mentor is fantastic and I'm excited to get advice from my mentor.

Hopefully more to update.

With love and God Bless,
EPD

Identity: Part 1...?

Today was the first time I wasn't afraid to see you. Today I actually loved you - not romantically nor was it perverted, but it was God's love. Spirit was active in my heart, connecting me to Daddy so I was connected by the heart.

Love.

I can't fix our relationship. I'm human and I'll fall; as much as I want to love you and show you what the Lord has done in my life, a bad influence takes hold much more than a good influence would. The demons would come at me again. I'd lose Spirit and I won't do that. Not when He's the love of my life. Not when He's my best friend.

Spirit. The Holy Spirit. I've heard His voice so clearly recently. I can't see Him, but I often imagine the typical angelic appearance - pale skin, blond hair, and blue eyes. He's bright and vibrant. He connects me to Daddy, gives me words, intercedes when my words and prayers fail (as they so often do). Spirit produces virtues in me, the same characteristics Jesus exemplified.

Papa. My relationship with my earthly father is off and on. Recently we've been getting along very well. When we don't, the Lord's been expanding my wisdom, telling me what went wrong and why. When I feel spurned or lost or unable to speak, I cry to my Daddy. He comforts me and stays beside me. He created the world, yet He loves little ol' me. Astounding.

Jesus. My Savior, my brother, my friend. He risked everything for me, depended wholly on Papa, and died in my place. I nailed Him to that cross, I spit in His face, I beat Him and whipped Him and pounded those thorns onto His head. But He took it. He didn't strike me down, didn't even fight to save Himself. He gave Himself up for the very person who tortured Him - me.

The demons. Many demons tempt me off and on. I've just completed a course on settingcaptivesfree.com to fend off Masturbation and Sexual Immorality - remnants of our time together. Now I'm committed to fighting Gluttony at the same site.

Even though we can't be friends, I think He can use me to love you from afar. Maybe. Or perhaps our time together is truly over and I did all I could to show you Truth.

But I'll never forget when I confessed I wanted to kill myself, when the IM died, and you kept calling and calling until I answered so we could talk it through. That's one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me.

Hour of Need

Hour of Need

Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise.
Jeremiah 17:14

I am your healer, your joy, your Lord. You bid Me, your Lord, come. Did you not know that I am here? With noiseless footfall I draw near to you.
Your hour of need is the moment of My coming.
Could you know My love, could you measure My longing to help, you would know that I need no agonized pleading.
Your need is My call.
(Taken from 365 One-Minute Devotions: God Calling)

Firm Part 2

I knew this would happen. I saw a message in my inbox, knew it was you (I hate that we're still mentally connected like that), and sighed. I knew you'd ask to open up communication lines.

But I can't. I won't. I won't go back to that. You say we've both grown up and grown past that. I've grown past it, but I don't want to put myself in that position again. I was obsessed with you. I remember sobbing my heart out because I missed one phone call from you after not hearing from you in a week. That's not healthy. That isn't ok.

Even seeing that message in my inbox set my adrenaline rushing. My heart pounds, and everything freezes. It was the same way when we were friends. I'd hear the phone ring and rush to answer. I'd see an email from you and curse my Internet for not loading quickly enough.

We know each other as well as ever. You suggested that you were curious now that our lives have gone their separate ways. I've been wondering what you've been up to for ages and I keep praying for you wherever you are. Your talent is impeccable and I hope you're doing things with it. I'm as boring as ever so ... (Of course, my King is not yours, so that's a huge rift already; you can't feel my joy, and that sucks. I wish you could.)

Ugh. And now I'm considering Adam again. I hate the loyalty card he played; what use is loyalty if you're loyal to the wrong thing? The bright side is I think I've finally forgiven him for blowing me off when I confessed to considering suicide.

And I wish I had the nerve to casually bring you up while talking to Lana or Thomas. How useless, not to mention pathetic. She's well aware of my rawness with you; we try not to bring you up. I'm terrified Thomas will stab me because of the whole thing, but he hasn't yet. He was so loyal to you... He loved you. He barely opens up to me.

And you didn't even do what I asked you to! Geez, my last request to you and you - But then again, I wasn't very clear. We said a lot that day, we've written a lot to each other (and our fight is so extensive I can't even remember the sequential order; all I know is I started it), written about each other, deleted/hidden comments (something else that extraordinarily pissed me off about you; I explicitly told you NOT to bring Lana into this), and whatever else.

Though there is one thing that I really want to know. Awhile ago you mentioned you were trying to find help for me. I'd like to know what you were talking about. I would've loved therapy; a bit late now -praise the Lord for getting me over it- but I appreciate the gesture. Though it was my fault. Lana knows about this too, but again, awkward much?

Maybe you'll say I dwell too much on the past. But it's hard to remember my rollercoaster with you, my two depressing years of high school, my isolation, my self-loathing, and willingly say, sure I'll go back to that.

I don't think I'll reply back.

*Names changed to protect the innocent.
**Subject to deletion.

Happy Frickin Birthday

I am an emotional wreck right now.

My friend, Erin, celebrated her birthday yesterday with a sleepover (her real birthday is today). She invited several friends over to her house to eat cake and have fun and swim, then left the invite open ended for a sleepover. I wasn't able to make the festivities, so I opted to spend the night. Surprisingly I remembered all of the girls in the group and they welcomed me rather warmly, despite the fact we haven't see each other in over a year (and we're only acquaintances). They are a beautiful group and I wish I could've hung out with them more often.

At about 4PM today, Liz steals Cathy's seat on the couch. Cathy and Erin start torturing her to get her to give up the seat (stuff like singing really high pitched, hitting buzzers, turning up the volume on the TV, spraying Liz with water, etc.). Melissa, Mary, and I decide to leave the room and not get involved (i.e. neutral Switzerland style) while the torture continues.

Then all of the sudden Liz, Cathy, and Erin start screaming at each other and make their way towards our side of the house. The three of us realize that this has become way more than a seat on the couch - there's some deeper issues coming out here. Doors get slammed, Liz runs off, Erin chases her down. Melissa finally gets Mary and me out of the house to the backyard to escape the screaming fight. I call my mom so she can get me the heck away from this madness.

Liz has left and Erin and Cathy meet us outside. Then Liz's older sister Patty shows up. The first words out her mouth to Cathy? "How can you call yourself a Christian?"

Oh. God. Help.

The ish has just hit the fan and Mary, Melissa, and I are stuck between the inaccessible gate from the back to the front yard and the door back inside since the fight between Erin -stepping in to defend Cathy- and Patty is happening in front of it. Erin kicks Patty out and that's the end of that. Supposedly Liz is breaking off her friendship with Erin and Cathy, and Patty seems to be in favor of that idea.

I'm pretty much at a loss for words. I've been trying to pray but all I'm getting out is "Lord, please." Maybe more to come/update.

*Names have been changed.

America's Got Talent 8-3-10

Alright, people. Tonight was the last quarter-finals round for America's Got Talent. Out of the 48 contestants the judges sent on from Vegas to Hollywood, only sixteen are moving on into the semi-finals. For the past four weeks, the forty-eight contestants were split into four groups of twelve. I didn't see last week's contestants, not that it mattered because none of them mattered to me and I don't even know who went on, but this week's was jam friggin packed.

The first two acts (Da Maniacs and NU Covenant respectively) didn't appeal to me much. Just another dance group and another singing group. Both didn't do that well. Act number three was Anna and Patryk (sick way to spell that, dude). The young dance duo kicked serious butt with a hip hop tap rendition of "Candy Man". Verrrry good.

Act four was also fantastic - Lindsey Stirling. She plays the violin. And hip hop dances. At the same time. Epic? I think so. However, when she dances she tends to lose her beat count on the violin, resulting in a lot of missed notes. But she rocks crazy hard. As much as I'd like to see her again, I'd love to see her improve her act and make a huge comeback.

The fifth act was Doogie Horner. Now I love comedy, but I feel that since comics have their own show Last Comic Standing, I'm not keen about sending him on.

Now, act six. Rudi Macaggi is one of those danger acts, kind of in the realm of sword swallower and fire thrower. Except he does crazy circus/acrobatic stunts like, oh, standing on his head on a tower of wine/glasses like in the pic. Today, he decided to FREAK ME AND EVERYONE ELSE OUT ON PURPOSE by doing a handstand on two vertical concrete blocks over a buzzing saw blade, then pushing over the blocks and driving his head inches above the saw. Everyone thought he fell, everyone tripped out, I cried a little, but it was a brilliant strategic move.

Acts six and seven were singers (Taylor Mathews, who I didn't watch and Mary Ellen, who's kind of a joke of the show). Mathews is probably a hit with the ladies, so I am a bit concerned that he'll go on. Mary Ellen...aye. She's hilarious, but definitely not the winner of this show.

Ah yes; ArcAttack, act number nine. The entire audience had to move outside to a stage built just for their performance since it would've blown every fuse in the studio in Hollywood. With a fascinating rendition of "Iron Man", and a hint of Infamous the video game, ArcAttack utilizes electricity in their performance. They make all of their props, instruments included, to conduct electricity, much like those weird shock globes that change colors.

Ohhhhhhh my favorite performance of the night - act ten. I am erratically in love with Prince Poppycock for two reasons. One, I loooooove his fashion sense. I want his clothes. And wigs. And makeup. Two, his voice is beautiful. I have never loved opera so much. Weirdly enough, I've not exposed myself to much opera outside of the hint of it we get from Phantom of the Opera. If I had this guy's CD, opera would be a new, mostly listened to genre on my iPod.


Act eleven (geez back to back to back here on favorites) was Murray the magician. I couldn't find a good pic of him performing any of his illusions, but tonight's was astounding. In his earlier qualifying round, Murray managed to make a Ferrari appear. Tonight, he made the classic girl in a cage turn into a tiger. Then made the girl reappear twenty or so feet away at the judges' table.

Act twelve was yet another dance act, Strikers All Stars. As you might notice, I don't like dance acts for the same reason I'm not big on comedians or singers in America's Got Talent - dancers have their own show, So You Think You Can Dance(though group acts don't apply there). Singers have the same issue though, since American Idol is also soloists only.

Seven of my ten votes went to Prince Poppycock; the other three went to Rudi Macaggi, since I fear he may have been lost in the insanity of the second half of the talents. This episode is by far the hardest I've had to predict. Out of the four contestants that go on, America's votes pick three, and the judges pick the last. I feel Murray and ArcAttack will certainly go on from votes. I think Rudi will too. Prince Poppycock had better, or I will cry. I'm hoping if America didn't vote for him, then the judges will see he's got the best talent out of the remaining talents.

We'll see tomorroooooow!

What're your talents?

Much Love, God Bless!
EPD

Wedding Themes

(Picture taken from http://media.animegalleries.net/albums/userpics/152498/fire%20bird.jpg?=123)
(Picture taken from http://www.pricelesspixs.net/odds%20and%20ends/Mexican%20Bird%20of%20Paradise-after4.jpg)
I was reading up on wedding info from a magazine in Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I saw this gorgeous "peacock passion" themed display as a reception table centerpiece and I thought, I'd like something like that at my wedding. I had already considered having red and gold colors and maybe something Broadway themed.
But then I got to thinking about floral arrangements. I love Mexican Birds of Paradise - by far my favorite flower. And then I considered the phoenix. Pretty sweet right? Maybe I could redesign that peacock display as a phoenix centerpiece...

Family Judgments

My parents and I got together today, mostly to discuss my move coming up, when it came up about my father's plan to win the Megabucks Lottery. I know, everyone and their mother wants to win the lottery (something my Papa has made quite clear to my father). But my dad's got this plan to get the family together in one big plot of land and start up businesses and donate to the ministry. Fantastic ideas, I think.

Then things got judgmental.

My dad made a mention of who's the most spiritual in our family. And I thought, why does that matter? We can't judge people based on their spirituality. Their strength in the Lord should be celebrated, yes, but why put down everyone else who doesn't measure up in our family? I have an aunt who's a Mormon. That religion kind of made my father say, I don't want her in our family group.

What? C'mon, really? Just because of her religion? How arrogant. Not to mention, that line of thinking is what makes people hate Christians so much (i.e. the Crusades anyone?). Then he mentioned that the real reason he didn't want her in our family establishment was because she'd hurt my mom. Again, kind of a dumb reason. Bright side was my mom said she's moved past all that with my aunt so my father said that if we did hit the Megabucks, then he would certainly allow her to live in our group. Another thing that bothered me about this, however, was my dad's always held that against my aunt.

Come again? Really? You've been married to my mother for 20 years and you haven't let it go that she and my aunt had kind of a rocky relationship back in their teens / young adult life? I guess I understand a bit; experiences like that color your perspective of people. But I can't imagine holding something like that against someone for so long. Though he did mention it wasn't a burning hatred, just something that kind of stayed with him and irked him.

Sigh. Can't choose your family, but you can learn from them. And if you can't figure out how to love them, try harder.

With love and God's blessings,
EPD

Identity: Prologue...?

We all live in a world that is constantly torn asunder by two spiritual forces. To put them plainly, they are good and evil. To name them correctly, they are the Creator of the universe, the Savior of mankind, and the Spirit of counseling versus the Ruler of the air, the Killer, Thief, Destroyer, and his lackeys.

Yeah, I'm talking the Lord and Satan.

Satan's got better things to do than attack me personally, and since he's not omnipresent like the Lord, he sends his lackeys for me. Several come at me on and off. There's Self-Doubt, Sexual Immorality, Depression, Apathy, Bitterness, and Discouragement. All of them are liars, just like their master.

Recently I was battling Sexual Immorality in the form of Idle Thoughts, Masturbation, and Pornography. A good friend of mine shared her story with me and hooked me into settingcaptivesfree.com. The program's free, online, and lasts 60 days, a good number since supposedly it takes 40 days to break a habit and 20 to form a new one. More on that later

Even before this rampant streak of Sexual Deviousness, I was struggling with Identity. I didn't know me and I often isolated myself from others because I didn't think I was worthy of friends. I thought I should fade into the background. I figured I didn't matter in the grand scheme of things -which while that is true, I'll get more into that later too- and I shouldn't have to find myself in my friends. So I switched cliques frequently.

But I had one friend, a best friend, someone I loved like a sister.

But I screwed everything up.

It's a shame so many people think Sexual Immorality and Identity tie together so well. As humans, we are constantly searching, forever curious. You see, there's this satisfaction we need to find somewhere, but we have no idea where or even what we're looking for. So we have sex. We drink. We do drugs. We change our personality or our look to fit in.

We lose our Identity. We don't know ourselves, but we're too afraid to know who we are. So we hide, use, abuse, break, build, create, lose, and gain. But for what? We're too afraid to look beneath the surface. Humans have a knack for rationalizing everything. Maybe it's something inherent; maybe it's learned. Either way, we know what's wrong and what's right; we know truth. But we don't want to admit that we know what we know because knowledge is power. True, raw power like that ironically comes with consequences unknown. And if there's one more thing humans do well, it's fear what we don't know or perhaps what we can't understand.

So we do what we do without thinking. If we stop to think, everything we know and do is a lie. And we know this all too well. All the better to coast through life using and abusing and hoping to just get by. But we refuse to acknowledge why.

Humans are mystery even to themselves. All the easier for demons to get in.

*May be edited/deleted

CHG Lost in Las Vegas Book Review

Preview as Listed on Back Cover:

{Mix six teenage girls and one '60s fashion icon (retired, of course) in an old Victorian-era boarding home. Add boys and dating, a little high-school angst, and throw in a Kate Spade bag or two...and you've got the Carter House Girls, Melody Carlson's new chick lit series for young adults!}

In a whirlwind, DJ accepts "lonely" Taylor's invitation to join her mom's tour in Las Vegas during Christmas break. DJ soon discovers that the unsupervised Taylor is focused on one thing only - partying with a capital "P". She's invited Eliza too, and DJ is quickly overwhelmed by the behavior of the wild duo. Desperate, she calls on Casey for help and prays for a miracle before Taylor self-destructs.

The Story (SPOILERS!):

Before everyone dips out for Christmas break -where DJ is stuck with her grandmother since she's not going to be her stepmom's built in babysitter during the holidays- the girls get ready for the Winter Ball. As most teenage girls do, the Carter House girls have their respective dates ask them and shop for the perfect dresses. DJ and Connor end up going together as friends, but DJ shoots Haley an email to let her know that, just so she's aware of this from DJ herself.

DJ finds the perfect red dress, Rhiannon makes the most fantastic green mismatch patterned dress, Casey dawns a Madonna, punk rock look, Eliza has a white princess gown, Kriti stays true to her Indian heritage in a belly dance styled dress, and Taylor breaks the suggested Winter Ball dress code of red, green, or white, and wears black. The guys have rented a suite in the hotel where the dance will be held and a party is likely to ensue. Of course, the Fearsome Foursome (Bradford, Rhiannon, DJ, and Connor) aren't interested and a funny little bit of justice in the form of vomit in the rented Hummer limo dampers the drunks' moods. Anyways, the dance is fabulous for the foursome and the drinkers don't slink home till later that evening/earlier that morning, of course with immense hangovers.

Finals come and go and winter break is on for the girls and the rest of the students. Eliza is heading back to her southern home state until she and her parents dip out to Paris, Kriti's going back to New York to meet with some relatives from India, Casey's going home to California, Rhiannon's heading up north to stay with her aunt and her mother -who's been released from rehab under her aunt's care- and Taylor is touring with her famous jazz singer of a mother Eva Perez. Connor is going up to Montana for some intense snowboarding, so DJ is stuck in town with her grandmother and General Harding.

About midway through the break, DJ gets a call from Taylor, asking her to come stay with her and her mother in Vegas. DJ gets permission from Mrs. Carter to go, but snow storms keep her stuck in the airport for another day. Finally getting into Vegas, DJ is directed to the penthouse suite of the Mandalay Bay where she meet Mrs. Eva Perez, Taylor's mother. She's delighted that DJ has decided to join them for Christmas and she hopes that DJ will be a good influence on Taylor.

Not wanting to be Taylor's babysitter, but wanting to be a good friend, DJ finds it difficult for a happy medium when Taylor's always drinking or flirting with guys at their cabana. (There's cabanas in Vegas?) Aside from that, Taylor, in a moment of weakness, invited Eliza for a couple of days, when she was afraid DJ wouldn't show. Now the party duo are constantly clubbing and drinking. DJ finds that all of this is too much for her and desperately tries to reschedule her return flight date. The airport can only manage to get her home a couple days after Christmas.

Luckily, Eliza is only staying in Vegas for a couple of days. However, after Eliza leaves the club she and Taylor were frequenting for her red eye flight, DJ gets Taylor kicked out of the club after she's been drinking herself silly alone, something DJ doesn't want to escalate into anything dangerous. Taylor doesn't seem to remember this, though she does sleep through half the next day.

After accidentally winning a slots game for $500, DJ decides to spend the money on Christmas gifts for Taylor and her mother. She buys Taylor a glass-blown clown figurine, Mrs. Perez a beautiful glass blown bowl, both of them Christmas cards, and a bouquet of poinsettias delivered to the suite. That evening -Christmas Eve- the girls see Mrs. Perez's show especially done for Christmas. But of course, Taylor spoils the evening by dragging DJ to the Gin Rummy club and gives DJ fake I.D. as a Christmas present. After more drinking and a God send fire alarm, DJ gets Taylor back to their suite in one piece only about an hour after entering the club.

Christmas morning, DJ goes for a swim at their cabana and meets a rather handsome guy at the

pool reading his Bible. He introduces himself as Terrence. The two exchange numbers, and DJ is hopeful at meeting a new Christian friend in Vegas. Upon DJ's return to the suite, she and Mrs. Perez have a bit of a chat, revealing that Mrs. Perez is well aware of Taylor's drinking habits.

Taylor finally wakes from her hangover slump, but she accuses DJ of being a bad friend because she didn't cover for her in front of her mother. Later that evening, Taylor wants to go clubbing yet again, but DJ reaches breaking point and just cries while silently praying for an intervention.

After laying it out there about Taylor's accusations and her inability to be a good friend herself, DJ demands to know why Taylor does what she does, why she wants to self-destruct. Taylor slinks into the couch and starts talking, something the reader nor DJ expected.

The story starts with Taylor's best friend Jessalyn dying from leukemia at age 12. When her friend died, Taylor felt part of her died too. Taylor's grandmother -a strong Christian woman- insisted Taylor not be angry with God for what happened. But then her grandmother died from a stroke. Her father was lashing out because of his mother's death, and Mrs. Perez was always on tour, so Taylor was alone. Since Jessalyn, Taylor's never been able to make another friend that became that close. There was one girl -Ilsa- who was also close with Jessalyn that makes friends with Taylor over their shared memories of their late friend. Ilsa sets Taylor up with her older friend Brent - Taylor's first date at age 15.

But he rapes her.

Turns out Brent had tried the same thing with Ilsa the year before, but she escaped it somehow. Some friend Ilsa was to set Taylor up without any warning whatsoever. Worse, back at school, Brent told everyone that they'd had sex, that Taylor had wanted it and asked for it. So of course, her reputation as a slut started. Ilsa stopped being friends with Taylor and treated her like garbage.

A bit overwhelmed and not sure how to proceed, DJ calls up Terrence. The three of them meet up and Terrence recommends a rehab clinic in L.A. to Taylor. DJ is stunned and not sure if this is some kind of cult set up. However, DJ becomes a bit more at ease when she realizes how much Taylor wants to go through with this. The two say goodbye to Terrence after getting the details, and return to the suite to tell Mrs. Perez what's happening.

Taylor begs DJ to come with her to see her into the rehab center. The two go on Mrs. Perez's tour bus, Taylor walks into the building, and DJ sobs as the bus pulls her away back to Vegas. The Lord has answered her prayers to help Taylor; now DJ can only hope this clinic is what it claims to be, and not some cult thing.

Personal Reflections and Opinions:

AHHH! Yay yay yay yay! I'm psyched for Taylor to go into rehab and I hope upon hope that it sticks. DJ is a fantastic friend for continuing to push past Taylor's emotional walls to establish an insanely deep connection.

Side note, the back preview is a tad misleading. I'm pretty sure the publisher/editor/whoever meant to say that DJ would call on Rhiannon for help, since Casey wasn't much help whenever she called. In fact Casey had her own problems to deal with back home with her parents constantly arguing over Christmas.

Anyways, this book was criticized for being inaccurate, but I can't say I care that much. The point was the story, the friendship between Taylor and DJ, and the intervention of the Lord. Names of places are interchangeable; God's not.

When Taylor said she was raped, I had to set the book down. The phrase resonated in my heart and I cried. I had no idea that was coming. I had considered it, but I figured that would be a result of Taylor's self-destruction through her clubbing and drinking. And the fact that her friend set her up for it was infuriating. What a horrible thing to do! Then treating Taylor like the slut reputation she'd unnecessarily gained? Ugh! Now I think it's all coming together. Taylor acts that way because she figures after her previous experience that it wouldn't matter what she did, she'd still get pegged with that rep. Wow.

I hope that after rehab, Taylor and her mother can repair their relationship. Her mother obviously cares about Taylor, but she's a bit like Mrs. Carter - unsure of how to handle anything this serious.

Man, this story is coming together crazy well and I need to get my hands on the last three books of the series. The next book, first chapter preview leads me to hope for what I've been asking for the past five books-

KRITI! DJ makes a comment about how the girls should reach out to her more so... here's to hoping!

God Bless and Happy Reading,

EPD

New Series Ideas...?

(Picture taken from http://www.fashion-conscience.com/media/catalog/product)

I think I was inspired by the Spirit to write something very personal in an exaggerated, fictional, spiritual setting.

My life.

There were three books at first, but I think it would make more sense to write four. The first is my life up to now, where I am with the Lord, my identity in Him, my journey through the Setting Captives Free website, my relationships, etc.

The next one would be inspired by my engagement relationship, which I assume won't come to fruition for quite some time. The temptations in dating, the learning process, the counseling, etc.

Book three would be our marriage over the years. The struggles, the fights, not feeling love for each other, the good times, and especially the bad.

The last book would be about our children. How we decide to raise them, what paths they take, their struggles for independence, and stubbornness to ignore our advice.

The running theme for all four in the series would be temptation. I was thinking of personifying temptation, as that seems more relatable, but it also gives you a person to hate, instead of looking out for where temptation hits in real life. The first demon is identity, the second is premarital sex, the third is stress and doubt, the last is the fight for our children's souls.

The spiritual battles take place in more of a physical place than they do in the mind (though it could be argued that the physical place is in fact symbolic for the mental battlefield).

We'll see what happens. If it is inspired by the Lord, then I guess it's good to go. As of yet, I'm not very confident in my writing for a legitimate series after what happened with the others.

Hopefully more to come.

God Bless, and Happy Sunday :)

EPD

Firm

Today was fantastic. I went swimming, I saw Inception again, and I got to hang out with my friends. Then I started isolating myself - as I usually do when I am around people for too long -and stopped talking so I could drift away into my thoughts.

It was dark. I have an affinity for darkness, a part of me that is so fascinated with evil, with a villain that is diabolical. I grin when I think of such a character and suddenly twisted seems beautiful. In my mind, anyways. I'm sure in reality if I met such a person, I'd be terrified.

But go figure that when I started to smile at these thoughts of chaos...

you added me on Facebook.

Your name doesn't terrify me anymore so much as it surprised me today. We've made amends, and I made you a stupid promise, one I didn't realize I wouldn't be able to keep. So I know why you added me - you wanted me to have an access to you, an open door, just in case you wanted to drop me a line. Or you wanted us to rekindle our friendship.

But we can't. I denied your request. Accepting it would've only over-excited you, then the reality of things would disappoint you. We can't be friends, not even online. Why bother? We're still too entwined, too over-ecstatic to see a reply or an update. It would only end up the way it did before.

I will fail you. Over. And over. You will hate me, and I almost wish you did now. Having you hate me would be cathartic because I knew the way our relationship turned out was my fault. At least this way we live separate lives. If we became friends again, our relationship would only fall back on what it was before. You was said that I called our friendship impure - that's because it was. I loved you in a way I shouldn't have. I loved you for the wrong reasons. Being friends with you again will only bring all of that back.

While I have let go of what happened to us in the past, I can't forget it. We can't move past it. Sure, that's not who I am now, but I can't go back to it and assume I'm better than it. Sure, you've changed; you're undoubtedly stronger now.

But my love for you was twisted. And I can't disentangle those thoughts from new ones. I'm sorry.

*Subject to deletion

CHG Viva Vermont Book Review

Preview as Listed on the Back Cover:

{Mix six teenage girls and one '60s fashion icon (retired, of course) in an old Victorian-era boarding home. Add boys and dating, a little high-school angst, and throw in a Kate Spade bag or two...and you've got the Carter House Girls, Melody Carlson's new chick lit series for young adults!}

Winter is coming, and Mrs. Carter treats the girls to a weekend trip to General Harding's luxurious Vermont ski lodge. Naturally, she has no idea that Taylor has invited some guys to follow them - boys who have a different type of adventure in mind.

As usual, Mrs. Carter does not pay close attention to the girls' activities. When a dinner outing and small accident keep he away overnight, DJ, Eliza, Taylor, Kriti, Rhiannon, and Casey are quickly in over their heads. As a party gets completely out of hand, only God's help can get the Carter House girls out of this gigantic mess.

The Story (Spoiler Alert!):

Book four starts with Eliza being bitter about DJ winning homecoming queen. Eliza's that girl who insults you while being falsely sweet - a give and take style of rudeness. Anyways, this mean streak carries over in the fashion show, where although DJ is the only girl to make one run on the catwalk, she follows after Eliza. DJ, still injured but now walking with a cane and walking boot, crosses Eliza midway down the run when Eliza kicks DJ's cane from under her. DJ does a volleyball roll off the stage and crashes into several audience members. Taylor is furious about Eliza's actions, confronts her on stage, then slaps her. The two get into it until the girls manage to pull them apart. Mrs. Carter, emcee of the fashion show, is appalled, but recovers with her usual grace. Taylor brings DJ back to the runway and escorts her to complete her run.

After the fashion show, Eliza -probably with her parents' persuasion- apologizes to the Carter House for her rude display. Amends sort of made, General Harding -a good friend of Mrs. Carter's- announces that he'd like to invite the girls up to his ski resort in Vermont for the weekend in the near future.

October nears an end as the idea to throw a Halloween party at the Carter House is proposed then acted on. The girls are each to invite eight friends to the non-alcoholic costume party where Rhiannon and Casey will be using their creativity to give the Halloween party a typical ghostly graveyard theme. During this party, DJ notices that Connor has brought Haley along, the two now officially a couple since DJ and Connor's break up. Some time later, Connor approaches DJ, saying that he still likes her and that he misses her, but he doesn't want to hurt Haley. DJ doesn't want to hear it and blows him off, giving him no solution to the situation he's brought up.

The next day at the pool after school, DJ notices the girls from the swim team huddled around a crying Haley. DJ is irritated by their dirty looks, but she ignores it since she didn't do anything to deserve it. After her physical swim therapy, Connor calls DJ and mentions that he broke up with Haley earlier in the day. The two go out to eat and decide to remain just friends since they don't want anything like that vague near-sex scene to happen again.

Of course, girls are catty and ridiculous, so before DJ makes an attempt to talk to Haley about the break-up, Haley's friends on the swim team rag on DJ in the swim locker room as a "boyfriend stealer", "hypocrite", and "poison", as Bethany -the tough girl on the team- brands her. DJ decides that although she's being honest about her and Connor's platonic relationship, she's not going to bother trying to explain anything to them since they obviously don't want to listen.

As she leaves the locker room, the swim coach approaches DJ with an offer to join the swim team. DJ weighs the idea carefully, since she enjoys swimming, but doesn't want to incur the wrath of Haley's psychotic swim team friends. The coach points out that even as a recovering exercise, she's faster than some of the girls on the team, and it would keep her in shape for soccer in the season to come. Since she's been practicing so often anyways, he figures he could just bring her onto the team without much of a problem. So DJ decides to go for it and hopes to straighten things out with Haley.

Obviously, Haley's friends are not thrilled with this idea. Although DJ genuinely tries to play nice and listen to their instruction -since she hasn't swum competitively for years- Bethany and the other girls constantly put her down. In fact, as a "sign of solidarity for Haley", they all decide to boycott DJ at afternoon practices and wake up for early morning practices. This is a stupid idea, since it leaves DJ pretty much alone with the coach -aside from some of the swim guys who are a way bigger help than the girls were anyways- to improve her times.

Then Conner and DJ go out to eat only to run into Haley, Bethany, and Amy who don't listen to anything the two have to say to explain their friendship and hurl more insults. Yawn. (Sorry, I'll hold my opinions a little more closely to me until the personal reflection section.) More drama goes down at a school football game with more immature battering by Bethany "Bruiser".

Later that week is DJ's first swim meet where she pretty much blasts the competition out of the water (haha, pun). The only person DJ is second to is Haley. After the meet, a couple of girls are fed up with the drama and congratulate DJ, mentioning that waking up early for practice is ridiculous and they'll be back for afternoon practices.

Some more drama with Bethany and almost a beat down later, DJ leaves the meet with Taylor and Casey to go shopping for their upcoming ski trip at the general's cabin. After spending some time in the malls, DJ takes a break while Casey and Taylor hit up a couple more stores. While alone, DJ gets an anonymous hateful text message, which she suspects is from Bethany. After telling the girls, Taylor advises DJ to ignore them and they'll stop.

But they don't. Thirty-seven anonymous texts later, DJ is unsure what to do. As she and Connor talk it over, Connor mentions that Haley has an obsessive personality - OCD over controlling even the tiniest details in her life, even diagnosing her as an anorexic.

Later that evening, Taylor tells DJ that the general will be driving the girls up to his cabin in his fancy motor home on Friday after school. DJ says she can't go since she's got a swim meet after, but organizes a ride with Connor, since he and several other guys have been invited up to Harry's cabin in the same area.

DJ's been doing so well in swim that she's been set up in another relay team in the girls who have started talking to her again. At the meet, the relay team beats Haley's and their high school wins the entire meet - a first for their season. Immediately after, DJ takes off with Connor to ride up to Vermont.

However, just halfway through their ride up their, Connor's pickup breaks down, and the two hitchhike to the nearest town. Connor meets up with the local mechanic who says he can have the truck fixed up by nine that morning. DJ and Connor end up renting a room for the night from the woman who runs the bar in town. One bed and an overly awkward conversation later, DJ and Connor share the bed, but they prohibit any funny business.

The next morning the truck is up and running and the two complete their drive up to the general's cabin. The two meet up with the some of the other Carter girls and Harry's friends as they go boarding on the mountains. DJ confesses to Taylor that she and Connor had slept in the same bed last night, but Taylor being Taylor, she makes this out to be what it isn't. DJ teaches Rhiannon how to snowboard and when the two take a break at the lodge, they find Casey. Casey tells them she knows who's sending the texts - not Bethany Bruiser but Haley herself.

After dinner, the girls sneak out to meet the guys at the lodge for a party. Connor makes light of the fact that Taylor has told pretty much everyone about his and DJ's exaggerated night sleeping together. Irritated at the partying group, DJ, Connor, Rhiannon, and Bradford leave for the night. In the morning, it's obvious that the drinkers are suffering the consequences and are sleeping in to sleep off their hangovers. The foursome go out snowboarding and the wonder of God's creation in the mountains leads the group to sing worship songs and pray.

When the foursome returns to the cabin due to some bad weather, they engage in a rather enjoyable game day with Mrs. Carter and the general. Then Eliza pops up, saying as a thank-you, she's brought the general a $200 gift certificate to one of the restaurants at the lodge. Mrs. Carter and the general head out, and Eliza and Taylor start planning for a party. In an attempt to increase the party time before the general and Mrs. Carter get back, the two have sabotaged the general's motor home, causing it to break down for the night before a mechanic can come fix it, though no harm is done to the couple.

The party gets out of hand -much like the Halloween party did- and the fearsome foursome decide to split it up. DJ threatens to call the cops, making the partiers run like heck to Harry's cabin where the party will continue. After much clean up and restoration, Taylor heads back to the party, and Eliza comes out of her party crazed stupor, apologizing for it getting out of hand.

With the weekend passed, the general drives the girls back into town where cell phone service is restored as the Carter girls return to home sweet home. DJ gets a frantic call from Connor, explaining that Haley tried to kill herself by downing aspirin and she's in critical condition at the hospital. After getting dropped off at the hospital, DJ and Connor further discuss Haley's condition. DJ breaks into sobs, feeling as though this was all her fault. Connor further depresses her by mentioning that word got out about how he and DJ "slept together".

DJ runs into the bathroom, feeling sick herself, when she encounters Haley's mother. The two discuss Haley's condition, brought on by Haley's need for control and her significant ability to hide her feelings. Connor's told Haley's mom about everything, setting it all straight about his and DJ's platonic relationship, and she doesn't blame DJ, but herself.

Two days later, Haley comes to, and DJ finally gets to talking. They discuss Haley's OCD, her relationship with Connor, her suicide cry for attention, and everything else to wipe the slate clean. Haley seems to be doing better and the two decide to become friends again once Haley is out of the hospital.

Personal Reflections and Opinions:

Geez, what a book. As you could tell, I hated all the drama that went down between Haley's friends and DJ. I've been here, on all sides of it, so I think that's why it bothered me so much. If everyone frickin' communicated like mature adults, it wouldn't have ended with Haley trying to kill herself. As for those girls that finally thought this whole thing was stupid and befriended DJ, I can say I related to them the most.

Casey and Taylor have been getting a tad too close for comfort. Casey was making such progress with the help of DJ and Rhiannon, but Taylor seems to be dragging her into the party scene. And the sex scene. Ugh. Luckily, Casey seems to reconsider everything towards the end of the book.

Kriti has a boyfriend. Yeah, and I don't know who he is. I'm angry at this development. So. Angry. Oh, and since she and Eliza have been crazy buddy buddy, Eliza's dragged her into the drinking scene. Though Kriti didn't much appreciate the massive hangover, so I think she's going to stay clean for the time being.

Connor and DJ being friends is a move I didn't expect and I'm glad it happened. Too much pressure for the both of them. Obviously since it hadn't worked out before, they weren't ready to jump right back into it again, especially after the whole Haley insanity. That would have just been stupid.

Haley was being ridiculous, but I guess you can kind of blame it on her obsessive nature. When Connor called DJ to tell her Haley tried to kill herself, I froze up and got teary eyed. I was DJ in that moment and all I could think about was I should've tried harder to talk to her. As someone who's had friends consider suicide and considered it herself, this situation hit home for me. But then we find out it was really for attention and I was less attached to it. Regardless, Haley realized her mistake, that was she did was dumb, and I was just glad she was alive.

Phew. A lot goes on in these books. I own the next one, but no others past that, so it might be slow going to review six through eight.

Anyways, live life, love God, and don't let anything get you down.
Much love and God Bless,
EPD