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SupergirlEmzel
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Name: Emily
Location: Eugene, Oregon, United States
Birthday: 7/6/1990
Gender: Female
Interests: Generally, interesting things. Specifically, Dreams, Dr. Pepper, Badminton, Watching people, Making movies, and unlike 99.5% of Mennonite girls in America, not coffee or scrap-booking.
Expertise: Storytelling, untangling slinkys, twisting people's minds
Occupation: Theoneanonly Mennonite actress
Message: message me
MSN: supergirlemzel@hotmail.com
Member Since:
7/17/2005
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| Today I was sitting in my bedroom wearing a wedding dress and a pink hat when a man and a woman walked up and peeked in my bedroom windows. The man looked in the left window and the woman looked in the right window. "It's really trashed," said the woman. At least that's what it sounded like. So I haven't had time to organize my bedroom yet. Why couldn't you have looked in the living room windows if you had to waltz up and look in my windows at all? And then when they'd finished looking they walked off and casually said to each other, "there's someone living there."
Um, yeah.
The other day Jessica brought me two wedding dresses that they couldn't sell at the thrift store. One had big black stains on the front and the other had a broken zipper.
I was able to wash the stains off, but I left the fabric a little worn and discolored from all the scrubbing. Ah well, it's fine for a costume, and besides being a couple inches too long it fits me perfectly.
The dress with the broken zipper is way too big. But it has lots of ruffles and lace and I'm sure I'll find something fun to do with it.
My scooter has this alarm that goes off if someone tries to steal it. But the wind sets it off. So I walk out of walmart today, and there's this walmart employee sitting on the bicycle rack who informs me that my scooter alarm has been going off.
Sigh.
The good thing about my new place is that it's easy to get to walmart. The bad thing is that it's much harder to get to the library. And apparently people like to look in my windows.
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| So much I could post about. But I don't want to post about it. I'm not sure why Perhaps I'm tired of talking about sickness And whether I feel better or worse here or there or in between And what I'm gonna do about it So instead I'll talk about random things like.... Wikipedia. I can spend hours on wikipedia. It is so interesting. My latest obsession is clicking on the "random article" button over and over again. Our waiter at Pizza Hut today was so interesting. His favorite word was "outstanding." It is hard to describe what made him so interesting. Why don't you go to the Pizza Hut in Canon City and find out for yourself? My sister Amy is the most amazing sister ever. She sent all kinds of awesome stuff over with Mom, from pink fuzzy slippers to notebooks to clothes. It was...outstanding. At Pizza Hut today I spilled a large amount of water into my lap. Thankfully, being Colorado and all, it dried rather quickly. An ant just crawled up my arm. Hopefully sometime soon I'll actually feel like posting. | | |
| Sickness seems to be filling up my days. Sickness and feelings of "why am I sick in Colorado?" and "I should be cleaning my house, but....ugh" and "Oh great, I have to call in sick...again" and many such similar not so fun feelings.
I was so lonely last night that I called Knepps up and asked if I could hang out at their place for the evening, despite feeling sick. Of course they said they'd be delighted and they'd come pick me up, because they're just that nice. I rushed around to get ready, cause I was still in pajamas, being sick and all.
A car pulled up. Were they here already? Feet pounded up the stairs. "Emily?" a voice called.
I opened my door. And there was Brenda, part-time thrifty part-time school teacher, with a vase in her hand.
A vase containing three red roses.
"These are from me and God," she said. "I don't know what you're going through. I don't know if you need flowers because you're having a bad day or to celebrate a good day, but God told me I was supposed to bring you flowers."
It was so beautiful.
She left then, and I continued to frantically dress and comb my hair. Turns out there was no need to do it frantically, as Knepps still weren't here, so I sat down and read the card. This is what it said:
Emily,
...may God surround you with His PEACE that passes all understanding.
If you're at all like me, you've probably wondered why you can't just be healthy again. You're tired of watching your diet, and looking out for mold in the house. Well, I want you to know you've inspired me a lot. Your optimistic view of life is very encouraging, thank you. May God give you rest, as you continue to trust Him.
I love you girl.
Praying for you
-Brenda D.
"And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."
Philippians 4:7
I cannot tell you how encouraging it was. I went off to Knepps with a happy feeling in my heart.
After I got home I was thinking, again, about all the things I need to do, wondering how on earth I'm going to get them done.
Then I looked at my red roses.
"God sent me roses," I thought, "he really is in control after all, huh?" And as the peace of God which passes all understanding filled me, I fell asleep.
This morning I woke up feeling horrible. I called in sick....again. Oh great. Where is my life headed, really?
Then I glanced up at my roses.
God is in control, after all.
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| You can get so confused
that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place…
…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.
Only I'm not waiting for a pot to boil of a wig of curls, I'm waiting around for my Mom to come and fix everything, I'm waiting until I move into a different house, I'm waiting until I feel better, but in the meantime I'm just...waiting.
Meanwhile, I have some good news. I stuck a little toy frog to the top of my computer screen with yellow sticky tack. It looks cute.
(The poem, btw, is from Dr. Seuss' "Oh the Places You'll Go")
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