I'm back

I just don't have much to say yet.

El hombre de super

I´m alive and well in Guatemala. It´s currently their WINTER, which is to say it rains most days off and on and drops down to say 60 degrees. At any rate, I went with my family tonight to the movies to see Superman, in spanish. This was hilarious because I felt like I was watching a really lame telenovela (Spanish soap opera) where the spanish was dubbed over. It´s moments like this when I love Lost in Translation so much more.

There are so many things here I miss. I´ll spare you too much detail, you might puke from the poetry running in my veins. I am contenta to say the least. And it is such exhiliration to actually think all day in spanish.

I am even more excited to start my new job come August. I´ll be doing quite a bit of family therapy in spanish. To all of you in the english world, take a little siesta for your heart´s sake.
-Con carino

from one old soul to another

when i left my last job at the non-profit my wise friend gave me his own copy of his favorite Henri Nouwen book saying, "Books are like old friends, and I want you to have this one." the book was Cry for Mercy. All you grad school friends that read this will remember that our program seemed dedicated to two main people, our own Adam and Eve so to speak. everything we learned seemed to stem from these two individuals: "the great saint" henri nouwen, and the mysterious fran white.

at any rate, i'm just now beginning the book mentioned above. i'm leaving for central america on wednesday for a research team-thing i'm a part of so reading material is priority upon preparation. the book is a book of prayers written while visiting a monastery. the first portion begins with this tid bit of thought:

There is so much fear in us. Fear of people, fear of God and much raw, undefined, free-floating anxiety. I wonder if fear is not our main obstsacle to prayer. When we enter in the presence of God and start to sense that huge reservoir of fear in us, we want to run away into the many distractions which our busy world offers us so abundantly. But we should not be afraid of our fears. We can confront them, give words to them and lead them into the presence of him who says: "Do not be afraid, it is I." Our inclination is to show our Lord only what we feel comfortable with. But the more we dare to reveal our whole trembling self in him, the more we will be able to sense that his love, which is perfect love, casts out all our fears.

I'm not going to lie, I'm a little afraid about what's going on in the middle east right now. My great friend amanda said it's something we should be praying hard about. I don't know why I hadn't thought of that, but I have been ever since we spoke. God help us.

Bono was right: Sometimes you can't make it on your own.

i got a job . i'll tell you more about it later.

guardedness not love is my folly: elizabeth meets bonita

i woke up at 3am the other morning for no reason at all. after trying to go back to sleep with no success i decided to finish reading Pride and Prejudice. now that it's over, i can't stop talking about it. just be glad you aren't reading my REAL journal. then you'd really be annoyed. i'll spare you too many details. as for Jane Austen, here is one of my favorite parts:

“It may perhaps be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely-a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better shew more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.”

i've never been one for romantic books or movies. once you've seen one you've read them all. but now that i'm in my second quarter of life (!! tee hee he) i'm suppose to grow out of certain patterns right? so i'm trying to expand my horizons. but jane austen is classic, so i'm not exactly moving anywhere near Danielle Steele.

I can’t stop thinking about how roles mess people up. I have this theory that people fit into some kind of role in our lives and outside of this role we don’t know how to make sense of them. So typically we assume people to fill a certain set of behaviors, and outside of that we have little permission for them to roam. These behaviors evoke specific feelings and thoughts in us that we become comfortable with and thus are established to be the norm for how we view and perceive this person.

So your “best girl friend” is always just “one of the guys” she’s never date-able, that guy from church who sets up the chairs is just the-boring-shy-mechanic who never has much to say, your family friend’s daughter is the girl you’ve always had family vacations with so she’s too familiar to be interesting, the new guy at dance swing night is just the typical polo/khaki/loafers w/tassels guy who couldn’t be very exciting or adventurous, etc. It’s endless, for one reason or another we don’t give love a chance. . .

I think it would be a good exercise for us all to consider allowing people to change. To give people the chance to be something different from time to time and maybe we’d be a bit surprised by what we'd discover.

The thing about Mr. Darcy is that Elizabeth thought he was an ass. She kept convincing herself that he was and doing her best NOT to fall in love with him. Why is it that we're so afraid of the things we want the most??

"Because people like to say 'Salsa'!"

My roomies and I went to El Jardin for a birthday dinner. This is the scrapbook of the night.














This was take 13 During the fun. We couldn't get a full pic of us all in the dumb little screen. The table next to us was embarressed on our behalf.

Back at our Home. I gave my 26 yr old
speech about how grateful I am
for my roomates and how much I am
inspired by their continual devotion of faith.

Motorcycle Diaries on Birthday Eve

To get the festivities started off right, I went with my good friend for a motorcycle ride. I'd been asking him for a while to take me because it seems that Chicago would be so impressive on a bike.

We've been waiting for the best time and figured my birthday would be supreme. My only request was that we not go 100 mph and that he take me down Lake Shore Drive to see the skyline.


The summer in Chicago is really amazing. It gets hot no doubt, but not the sorta hot that makes you want to rip your skin off because the sun is squelching skin burns off the dashboard of your car (411: I'm referring to Houston here).
If you notice, I'm wearing a jean jacket and a long sleeve button down cowgirl shirt because at sunset it gets cool plus on a bike you feel the temp more.

We started off going North on Lake Shore from the Wrigley area. I was watching everyone at the marina and soccer fields-so fun! Then we connected to Sheridan Rd which runs through Evanston and on up to the Northern outskirts of Chicago-land.

Evanston is where Northwestern Univ. is, pretty much a beautiful area. Everything is so green and well kept and the houses quite impressive. It was a blast. We drove pretty far north, up to where Chicago's Ravinia music festival is held. We stopped to see the lake from a Look-out point up north.

The drive back we went all the way South on Lake Shore driving through the city, passed Grant Park and down to the infamous Lower Wacker which is one of my favorite mysteries of the Loop area! The city is so beautiful, at sunset when all the buildings are just lighting up and everyone is outside. Helmet hair is SO worth it.

the British are to blame

Sometimes when I most need rejuvenation, I find myself rediscovering the beauty in the Sermon on the Mount. I wish I could superimpose the lines of text like lyrics that scroll across the scenery of my day reminding me of so much peace and hope. I dare say that the secret of life lies within those lessons.
"Look at the birds, the lilies of the field . . . how much more are you loved? Knock and it will be opened. Rest. Sacrifices of fasting. . . what is done in secret, your father will reward. Store up treasures, where moth will not destroy."

Whenever you're feeling homesick, and you're on your period, don't fly home for 48 hours to get your fix. What you'll get instead is that same feeling of going to a restaurant and (just after ordering) the table next to you gets their food which looks just like what you're really craving. And you suddenly realize perhaps you should have asked for this other entree. . . But you let your order stand, and at least for next time, you know what looks good.

What I'm trying to say is that I sincerely missed home. And once I got there, I realized why.

I'm going to start blaming Jane Austen for all of this. Ever since I started reading Pride and Prejudice I've had all these changes of heart.

Itch

my birthday is next week. i'm considering leaving town. but then again, a weekend in chicago holds most anything i could want from anywhere else. feel free to begin mailing all presents so as to be delivered on time.