I love guac.

I got back about 1:00 this morning from a very quick trip to Sioux Falls for the YoungLife Mission Community Weekend. It was great. I good time of training, fellowship, worship...very refreshing. But also a little stressful, because the trip was kind of the kickoff for the next 3 months of my life...which are going to be just nuts. Very exciting, but pretty much insane. From now until the beginning of July, I literally have something going on every weekend, including the Lammies (some of you know what that is...for the rest of you, I'll post some pictures after next weekend...it's pretty much the biggest thing to hit Rapid since...the Olive Garden...haha. And I get to plan it. It's a real good time) a choir concert, graduation, two weddings, and being out of town four times...a grand total of 31 days. So now I kick it into high gear...which, when it comes down to it, I really love. High gear is my comfort zone. Which brings me back to the YoungLife retreat. The theme of the weekend was "One True Thing." We talked about putting aside everything we chase after...absolutely everything...to seek the face of God. About really boiling it down to what matters, and what doesn't. About Mary and Martha, in Luke 10:40something. If you struggle with an addiction to a full schedule, like I do, that short little story is a real kick in the pants. Go read it. It was a good way for me to head into these next couple of months. And with that, I need to go, because I'm housesitting, and if I don't head out now, I'm going to have some really antsy dogs on my hands. I'm out. Take care.

Ireland. In May.

In honor of the three-days past St. Patrick's Day, I have decided to plan a trip to Ireland in May. Seriously. I'm going to Ireland. In May.

Okay. You got me. I'm not just going because it's St. Patrick's Day. Also I want to celebrate the color green. And what better place to do that than Ireland in May?

What. You don't believe me? Geesh. How many legit reasons does a girl have to have to plan a trip to Ireland in May? Well, believe it or not, I'm going, and I'll show you some pictures when I get back. Promise.

I Don't Need Shoes: Thoughts on the Epidemic of Materialsim

I don't need shoes. I don't need shoes, because I just ordered a pair of custom molded Birkenstock clogs (perhaps the best shoe ever created) from work, and hardly had to pay anything for them - one of the perks of working for a podiatrist. I don't need shoes, because I have at least 32 pairs in my closet - most of which I never wear. I don't need shoes.

I just want shoes.

And so, here I sit, at midnight. Online. Shoe shopping for shoes I don't need, and definitely don't need to be spending money on at this particular time in my life. So I'm not even really shopping to buy. I'm shopping to covet, which is worse. I just look at all the shoes I could be buying, and grow increasingly discontent with the 32 plus pairs of shoes I already have to choose from. It's ridiculous.

Our culture is partly to blame. We live in America in the 21st century. Everyone wants to make a buck, and the media is no moron. Marketing gurus have expertly tapped into brainwashability of our generation and spoon fed us the "can'tlivewithoutit" lie. Electronics, cars, clothes - you name it, we want it. On the other hand, humans (i.e. you and me) are mostly to blame. People are greedy, by nature. We just want stuff. We want to keep up with the Joneses...to have what they have, and then some. It's no new thing. I mean, heck - look at King Solomon. If you want to talk about someone who had alot of stuff...that guy had everything. So whether it's kingdoms or cows or shoes, people have always wanted to hoard stuff, and lots of it.

So, anyway, on the same website where I found the shoes I now think I just have to have, (but never would have know I had to have, had I not been shoe shopping tonight) I ran across a sticker. It reads "Protect me from what I want." Brilliant. I want to buy it, and put it on my wallet, to curb my frivilous spending habits...perhaps it would be a deterent to keep me from buying stuff I don't need. Interesting though, that they want $6.75, plus shipping and handling for the sticker.

I have a bad case of wanderlust...

Now playing in theater #1 (i.e. the family room) "My Little Bro and His Two Best Friends Road-Trip to Cali Last Summer: The Complete Documentary." They went to Zion, Yosemite, Grand Canyon, Lake Meade, and Golden Gate Bridge National Parks. They were on the road for two weeks. My senior road trip consisted of Steph and AJ and I spending 5 days in a little cabin at Rafter J Bar campground in Hill City. We were on the road for...oh, about 25 minutes, each way.

Now, don't get me wrong. We had some good times on that "camping" trip. We biked the Mikelson Trail, fished in Sheridan Lake, fought alot about who had the better outdoor cooking skills, purchased my most prized material possession at a antique/junk shop (a 7 foot suit of armour - $200) and played cards with campground maintenance boys. But still - road trip? I commuted farther to school three days a week last semester.

"Why," you may ask, "the downscaled trip?" And here is the answer. Because AJ and Steph and I are girls. That's why, if I remember correctly. There was a bit of financial limit, as well, but I'm pretty sure that even if we had had extra money, our parents wouldn't have let us take off. Of course, they were just looking out for us. Which is probably good, since we had (read: I have) a tendency to think that I'm invincible. And when I have daughters, I probably won't let them head for California with their friends when they are 18 either. Nonetheless, I don't think I've entirely gotten over that whole situation yet. I still resent my parents for it...just a teeny tiny bit. Which is my explanation for why I wake up every morning and have to remind myself that I have responsibilites and commitments and bills to pay, and can't just run off on little jaunts here and there.

I really shouldn't be worrying about it right now, though. I'll be out and about plenty over the next couple of months. But as of this minute, I'm just itching to go somewhere. How about Disneyworld? Or New Mexico? Boston? Patience Marci, patience.

Silly me, I thought it might be Spring!

Snow angels. Snow forts. Snow cones. Snow men. Snow day???? Could we be so lucky? Nah. It's only been snowing ALL DAY. I mean, heck, we've only got some 18 inches of heavy, slushy white stuff. Us South Dakotan's are hardy folk. It takes at least 36 inches to slow us down. Well, work or no work, it's gorgeous out there.

So anyway, last night, Nick and I went to the "Slow Roasted Songwriters 2006" show at the Dahl. Basically, it was a 3 1/2 hour conglomeration of the "best of" Dunn Bro's weekly open mic, with a fabulous jam session of sorts as the finale. One heck of a good time, if I do say so myself. My personal favorite was Amanda Conway, an incredibly talented young songwriter/guitarplayer/musician. She's fantastic...and has a cute new haircut, to boot. I swear, I'd think she was great even if I hadn't know her since she was 12. If you ever get a chance to hear her play, don't miss it. (Shameless plug...I know.)

I used to go to stuff like this all the time, back in the day. Back before I was trying to actually graduate from college. I had forgotten how much I missed live music, the local arts scene, and all the intruiging people that come with the package. I had forgetten how, when I was about 19, I wanted more than anything to be a crazy guitar playing chick. Funny how you can want something very badly, but you have to prioritize and other things you want a little more float to the top of the list. Huh. Well, that's my pensive thought for the evening. I'd have more, but I'm surrounded by people, and having a hard time writing and not watching the evening news. So with that, I'm out.

You unlearn something old every day.

Hi. I'm back.

I apologize for my absence. I've been trying to figure out how life works for people who have routines, and I've pretty much determined that that's not something you can learn. Either you're a routine person, or you're not. I'm not. I'm not making that transition well this semester. As you may have noticed, I even tried giving up my 2 a.m. journaling habit, but it's been all in vain. I still can't get on a normal schedule.

I wish I could say that I've returned after all this time with some large amount of wisdom, but really all I've learned in the least few weeks is that I have even less figured out than I thought I did. Which wasn't much to begin with. This isn't a bad thing, necessarily. Not knowing anything. It's got it's perks. It teaches you to be humble. It teaches you to trust other people. Scary. It teaches you that God is sovereign, and He's under no obligation to let you in on his immeadiate plan if he doesn't want to. He can do whatever He wants, and He's still righteous and perfect.

Yep. That, kids, is all I've got.

Whoohoo!

Beautiful, white, perfect, glorious SNOW! (It's about time...I was beginning to forget that I live in the midwest) It hasn't stopped coming down since last night. They closed the clinic at 3:30 and told us we'd most likely have the day off tomorrow. Ahhh. Simply beautiful. What more could you possible ask for? Okay, well maybe one thing: the peruvian beanie that I ordered from REI. It's not going to be here until next week, probably after the snow has all melted. Ah well, even that can't ruin my snow-evening. I'm going to go roll around in it for a while. Bye.

Roadtrip!

Em and I are headed down to Denver for the weekend to get her dress fitted, shop for bridesmaid dresses, eat at Sonic, and just generally run amuck (on a budget.) I'll talk to you kids in a few days. Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone.

Coincidence? Or something else....

I was in a bit of a funk last weekend. You know those days. Worrying about my future. School. A job. Finances. Going abroad. An apartment. More tuition debt. Decision making. Conflicting summer Younglife/job/camp/church commitments. Friends. Relationships. Friendlationships. Being envious. Insecure. Not trusting God at all. Not trusting anyone. Self pity. Self loathing. Self righteousness. Just plain negative all around, and not even kicking myself to quit being that way, but rather content in my self-centered wallowing.

Sunday morning, I rolled out of bed and stepped on an envelope. Saturday's mail that someone had tossed into my room. The envolope was hand-addressed. We all know that if it's hand-addressed it's not a bill or a credit card ap or the Sierra Club asking for money. If someone took the time to actually write out your name and address it's got to be something good, right?

So I open the envelope and inside is a half-sheet of paper with a hand-written note that says this:

"He is it. He is all there is. And you are His. He is worthy of your praise. Worthy of all honor and praise. And you know that. It's not about paying rent. Or grad school vs. Greece vs. Africa. Or even the man you may or may not marry. It's really just all about Him. And on the days you feel like it, and on the days you don't, lift your hands and voice and heart to Him. It's all you can do when you can't do anything else. Bless the name of the Lord. You have vowed yourself to Him. He has you forever, and there's nothing you can do about it. Nothing you can do. So let Him love you, and bless His name."

So I'm a little taken aback. And quite confused. I pick up the envelope again. How odd. It was my handwriting. The return address is the camp in North Dakota where I spent two weeks with teenagers last July. I had completely forgotten that we had written letters to ourselves one night at camp. We addressed them and sealed them and the camp director promised to mail them several months later. After we had forgotten all about them. When we least expected it. When we were needing some encouragement. Like on a Sunday morning in January, when we're in a bit of a funk.

Nothing in particular...

Natalie just posted 100 interesting things about herself on her website. I read them all and thought, "Well now, that's a novel idea. I think I'll do the same." And then I realized that I'm feeling too lazy right now to do that, and instead I'm more in the mood to just write little comments about each of her 100 things. While it might spur lively webversation between her and I, it would probably prove to be rather boring for the rest of you, most of whom probably don't know Natalie.

So, in other news... I'm going attempt to make it to power-yoga again at 5:30 tomorrow morning. Don't be deceived. I know that the phrase "5:30am power yoga" evokes certain mental images of self-disciplined, pulled-together, trim and toned morning women with, what appears to be, a lack of ribs (how else do bend like that?). Such is not the case. Not my case, at least. That is the image I would like to live up to, but really, I'm just a wannabe. I barely drag myself out of bed at 4:50am one morning per week, and stumble into class, half-conscious. By the last 10 minutes of class, the cool-down period, when you lie in corpse pose and "clear your mind of worries and tension," I'm either struggling to stay awake, or just getting started prioritizing my worries and tensions for the day.

Last Thursday the instructor said, "Close your eyes, and go to wherever you want to be." So I took myself to Greece. I was sitting in the sunshine, among red potted geraniums on the roof-top patio of my whitewashed, blue-shuttered house stacked with hundreds of other matching houses on the side of a hill in a dense, car-free island village, looking out over blue seas. It was eutopic for about three and a half seconds. And then I thought, "Why am I here? How am I paying for this gorgeous little house? If I'm blowing all my money, just kicking it here on the Mediterranean, how am I going to pay for grad school? Am I going to go grad school? When? Should I be in school now? Shouldn't I at least be working? This is far too perfect to be responsible. Should I even be here? Did everyone at home think I shouldn't be here? Was this a bad idea? Should I have stayed in Rapid? Is my little sister mad that I bailed on my middle-school girls just when she became a middleschool girl? Who took my job at the clinic? Will I get my job back if I go home? Do I need it back? Do I miss home? What if something happens to my grandparents while I'm out of the country? What if something happens to anyone while I'm out of the country? "

So I came back to poweryoga at the gym in Rapid, because going to work was suddenly not seeming like a stressful activity at all. So, see? I'm not what you think of when you think of "5:30am poweryoga." Not at all. If I can do it, so can you. Except that I maybe can't do it tomorrow. It's almost midnight. I'm out. Night.

"Adventures in Academia"-Episode #326

A little brain teaser for you problem solving types.

Facts:
#1) You are five credits short of receiving a bachelors degree from State University A
#2) You are currently registered for two classes at State University A
#3) You wish to drop both classes at State University A due to scheduling and commuting conflicts, and instead...
#4) You wish to enroll in two correspondence classes from State University B (referred to State University B distance education enrollment and application website)
#5) To drop all SU-A classes, you must officially un-enroll as a student at SU-A (referred to Dawn in the registrars office)
#6) You may not graduate from a university from which you have unenrolled (referred to Pam in enrollment office)
#7) You may not drop or add any SU-A classes because you have a block on your WebAdvisor (online registration, bill paying, etc.) because you did not pay your tuition for the two classes you do not intend to take but were not able to drop because you have not filled out an "un-enrollment application" for SU-A (referred to Candice in financial services office, who referred to Dawn in registars office who referred to Pam in enrollment office who referred back to Dawn in registrars office)
#8) To take classes from any other university but A your final semester, you must have written permission from the dean of the college of your major (referred to Holly in College of Arts and Sciences, who referred to Dawn in regisrars office)
#9) SU-B may not enroll you in any classes because of the WebAdvisor block (referred to "Student Help Line" at SU-B, referred to Pam in enrollment)
#10) Apparently Pam, Candice, Dawn, Holly and SU-B are forbidden to communicate directly
#11) The official drop/add day is Thursday. You have less than 48 hours to solve this problem.

Your education hangs in the balance. If you succeed, you walk in May and receive your college diploma. If you fail, you go to jail (i.e., another "extra" semester at Black Hills State.) Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Best of luck to all of you.

Two beautiful things:

#1) Last Sunday I went for a walk in the woods on this mountain bike trail that takes you kind of south of the monastary and branches off in about 8 different directions. I was meandering along and stumbled upon a lone Christmas tree - all decked out in tinsel and garland and handmade ornaments. A little worse for wear, but still hanging in there in the middle of January, in the middle of the woods.

#2) Yesterday I was second-hand shopping with Emily. We were scrounging for costume jewelry and whatever else struck our fancy at the Cornerstone Thrift Store. The place has little funding and just moved in some shelving units donated from another store that closed recently. All the shoes are now nicely paired up on shelves that are labeled "Non Fiction," "Romance," and "Novels."

I guess you could say I'm easily amused. Perhaps that means I'm simple minded. Regardless, I think I've got an advantage over people who don't care.

I regret to inform you...I am a closet pacifist.

I'm not typically a combative person. I don't like conflict, especially with people I love, and I've discovered that one of the best ways to avoid conflict is to keep your mouth shut when you disagree with people. This not always right, easy, healthy, or honest, but it keeps people happy. So if peaceful, relatively shallow relationships are what you're going for, it gets the job done. Unfortunately, despite my natural inclinations, I strongly desire to be honest and sincere and do the right thing - which can often lead to tumultous, though much deeper, relationships.

I have a professor who makes this statement: "Relationships create roles. Roles create responsibilities." (I tried to disprove this theory for quite a while, and hurt my mom very much in the process. I've since realized he's right. Unless we are hermits, we inherantly have inescapable relational responsibilities.) These responsibilities sometimes require us to openly counter the opinions or actions of the people we care about the most - (sometimes responsibility just sucks) not because they are just stupid, or because we are always right, but because sometimes we can just see things from a different perspective, or are the only ones who will buck up and tell them the truth.

Solomon said in Proverbs that wounds from a friend are better than kisses from an enemy. So. that's my self-motivating essay for the week. I figured that if I published it somewhere, I would feel more obligated to act accordingly.

That's all. Thanks.

I won't lie to you...

it's been a tough weekend. A tough week. Even in the grand scheme of Marci things -my whole life - it's been one of the tougher ones. But through it, I have seen God's faithfulness, up close and personal. Just the way he sees our individual needs, in the moment, and meets them - meets us where we are...even if that's in the middle of the dark, or a bunch of crap, or our own self-loathing, it just blows my mind, every time. So anyway...what I started out today say was this: that if someone held a gun to my head and forced me to choose a theme song for my life...just one, I'd think I'd pick this one:

Blessed Be Your Name, by Matt Redman

Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be your name

Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name

Every blessing you pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord Blessed be your name

"The Night the Road Won" (or, "Marci's Jeep Fantasies Crushed")

I come to you this evening, humbled. A woman whose pride has been wounded. I have been known, at times, to boast of my night-time four-wheeling escapades. And I boast, because in this game, that I like to refer to as "Geo/Aveo vs. long-neglected Black Hills National Forest Logging Road," (or "500 lb., cheaply-made city vehicle with ridiculously small tires vs. 'is that really even a road? ' ") I always win. But tonight folks, tonight...the tables were turned. Tonight was the night the road won. We tried. We kept trucking along, valiantly, despite some very large rocks, very deep ruts (puddles deceptively covered with a thin layer of ice) and Andrea nearly hyperventilating because of my mad tree dodging skills. Two and a half hours, 42 miles, and 3 different attempted routes. Three impassible routes. One completely dead-ended, with tree's so thick only a skinny hiker could have gotten through. Another had some random, very hostile looking, tire-slasher contraption embedded in the dirt from tree to tree, across the trail (and yet, completely unmarked as private property or anything of the sort,) and the third ended at a small drop off with a 6 foot boulder at the bottom. No matter how determined I was, there was no way I could force the little Aveo could go any further. I accepted defeat, hung my head and (*sigh*) turned back. Not much to show for the night except a decent sized battle wound paint scratch on the drivers-side door, and probably a "slightly scuffed" under-carriage. Tomorrow, I intend on obtaining a map of Forest Service four-wheeling trails and old logging roads, so that I can see where I was and why exactly the stupid psuedo-roads didn't go anywhere. Seriously, roads that go nowhere? That's like very mean practical joke.

Well, we arrived back home safely. I don't want to sound like too sore of a loser, so I will add that it was a splendid adventure. Or at least I thought so. Andrea's a real trooper, but I think the evening took years off of her life. Kudos to her for tolerating my hair-brained schemes. With that, I'm out. Night.

The party's over.

Back to the daily grind. I love my job, but having time off makes me realize just how much fun NOT working can be. Ah well. Eating is great too, so as long as I feel that way about it, I'll keep working. It will also be good to have less time to spend money - an activity I've grown quite accustomed to in the last couple weeks. Well, I of course have plenty of amusing, clever, wise things to say tonight, but I must get a long to bed, so you'll all have to wait until a different time. Au revoir.

I'm exhausted. I've crammed as much Christmas-break, catch-'em-before-they're-gone, power-socializing in as possible. So many good friends came home and I desperately want to see them all before they go back to their respective schools, jobs, countries, etc. I have not succeeded entirely. There just wasn't enough time, and I leave tomorrow morning to go to Avon to visit my grandparents and 166 cousins, so there were a few people that I missed. Ah. Such is life.

It's been a good couple of days though. Yesterday AJ, Steph and I climbed Harney Peak. It was just magnificent. The weather was chilly and perfect and cloudless. It had been far too long since I'd been in the hills, and even longer since I'd hiked, (as I am reminded by my sore calves today,) so I was a very very happy girl to be out in the woods again. Following that I went to see King Kong with Nick and his family. Great movie. Monkies are just soooo cute! (Kidding! I'm kidding!!!!) I'd give it three thumbs up, if I had three thumbs. Thank goodness I don't, because that wouldn't be very attractive. Today I was supposed to have breakfast with a friend (whose name will go unmentioned, to protect the oversleepers.) She was unable to attend, so I unded up having coffee and bagels with Walt Whitman. Always a delight. Melissa and I had lunch at the Mediterranean restaraunt, (Mmmmm. Falafels.) and Nick and I had dinner at La Costa, so I've been eating multi-culturally. It's cheaper than a world tour.

Well, like I said, I'll be back on my grandparent's farm for a few days - eating, sleeping, eating, reading, eating, bungee jumping, eating, crocodile hunting, eating, gold mining, eating....

Until then, take care and stay out of trouble.

Our glorious tree, before we removed it from it's natural habitat.

...and to all, a good night.

You know life is good when your biggest dilemma is no milk for your Cap'n Crunch. No worries. I've got egg nog. Merry Christmas.