Happy Monday Morning!!
I usually hate Mondays, but so far this one's alright. I guess this past weekend was such insanity that a bit of routine is welcome.
Friday night was the sleepover some of us put together as a sort of last-splash-with-her-girls for Joy before her wedding. No, not the bachelorette party. That's something entirely unrelated. We ate cookies (*snort*), played Just Dance (3!!!), goofed off with some highlighters and my blacklight, watched our favorite movie, and got about four hours of sleep. Typical us-girls sleepover, but kind of perfect.
Next morning mom picked up me (and Isabel, whose mom said she could only come Friday night if she found somewhere to stay Saturday night) and took us to the church for an Epic Cleaning Session. Came back to the house, napped, cut the grass, finished choreographing the Christmas dance, watched Doctor Who, woohoo.
Sunday. Ugh. Church in the morning with all it's insanity (plus helping in the kids' Sunday School Class. I got to work with Noah, though, so it was all okay). Then all-day dance practice for aforementioned Christmas dance (What Child is This, MercyMe), with eleven girls ages seven-fifteen. Soreness. In. Bones.
Sunday night= babysitting for Women's Bible Study, Men's Bible Study, and New Members class, all at once. Eight kids: An eight-year-old girl, three five-year-old boys, Noah (nine years old, but also blind, so, yeah), Emmy (three, but mentally about thirty), and a nine-month-old. All in our church's nursery. A movie going, a bunch of crayons, my cell phone for Noah, some blocks and a couple plastic trolls for the boys, a stuffed puppy for Emmy, and utter chaos. But the baby makes it all okay. She is absolutely the most precious thing on the planet. Just old enough that I'm not scared to hold her for fear I'll break her, but to little to cause trouble. Kind of awkward, though. Last night one of the kids asked if she was mine. I'm like . . . No. Just no. *heebie-jeebie-shiver-shake*
So I came home exhausted, and sore, but it was a brilliant, happy kind of exhaustion.
Aaaand now I'm rewarding myself for surviving this past weekend with a little bit of delicious first-schoolday-of-the-week procrastination. Killed some braincells on my favorite rabid fandom blogs; one for Doctor Who and one for Sherlock. I'm so glad there are people more obsessed than I am to make fanart and gifs and catch hilarious parallels so that slightly-less-obsessed people can waste time on tumblr looking at them.
I really need to stay out of the BBC Sherlock fandom, though. It is NOT helping my story. Actually, it's brought on a rather vicious attack of writer's block. Too much with the crazy fans *ahem* "shipping" the concept of John and Sherlock as the, erm, odd couple, if you catch my drift. It tends to get inside your head, which is very distracting when you're trying to write YOUR John and YOUR Sherlock as, well, nothing of the sort. And besides, trying to write this:

With a brain full of this: (seriously, click the pic, it gets better)

Just. Doesn't. Work.
Ugh. Wish me luck.
Have a great day!
~Ella

A Deliriously Delicious Crossing of Fandoms

Mmmmmm. Ready for this?

Hamlet:

Doctor Who:

Yummy:
(Yeah, everybody knows about this one, but anyway):

Sherlock Holmes:

Sherlock Holmes:

Doctor Who:

Scrumptious:
(Sherlock, The Doctor, and Papa Moffat)


Sherlock Holmes:

Hamlet

(just refreshing your memory):

Now for the truly delectable coincidence:

Huzzah for Fangirling all over Blogger!!!

Another Day, Another Paper

Maybe I shouldn't get into the habit of posting school assignments here, but oh well. This project was to watch a movie version of Hamlet and "discuss staging." Feel free to ignore this post.

For this assignment, I watched the 2009 made-for-television version of the Royal Shakespeare Company's 2008 stage rendition of Hamlet. My decision was entirely based on the fact that it starred David Tennant, a personal favorite actor of mine; but I wound up enjoying it for much more than just that.

The movie seems particularly suited to the analysis that is being asked of me, as it deviates from and concurs with the original in very interesting ways.

The costuming is modern. Bernardo and Marcellus wear police uniforms; Horatio wears a sports jacket. This provides sort of a new medium to work with; allowing the creators to use modern conceptions of dress to mold and form the viewer's opinion of a character. For instance, Hamlet begins the movie in a simple black suit and tie suited to his mourning; but as he descends into his 'madness,' he dons a slightly over-sized novelty t-shirt and worn jeans.

The setting is present-day as well, as far as that Claudius's political lackeys tend to wear blue-tooth devices, characters ride in cars rather than carriages, and everyone carries hand-guns instead of swords. This also provides for an artistically pleasing but highly distracting switch of camera angles from third-person omniscient to a crackly, grayscale security camera at various angles near the ceiling. It did play into the plot in a minor way, though. In Act 2, Scene two, just before one of Hamlet's soliloquies, all of the other characters leave the room. We switch to the security camera; the actor scans the room, spots the camera, rips it off the wall, and throws it out the window. The prince's next line, “Now I am alone,” takes on an entirely new meaning.

The use of Hamlet's soliloquies bears mentioning. They were very well delivered, which speaks volumes of Tennant's acting ability. Also, a number of them he delivered into a small camcorder, adding a kind of a vlog-type feel that makes more sense to a modern mind than the actor pacing around and talking to himself.

The original dialogue was left mostly intact; with a very few minor adjustments. Here and there an archaic word would be exchanged for it's modern counterpart. Lines were cut out of some very long, repetitive descriptions and soliloquies. A few scenes were rearranged for the sake of clarity, with great success. As a whole, it stayed very true to the original.

The biggest difference was in stage direction and acting style. Either the scripts we read today leave a good deal of movement to the imagination, or the actors on the stage at the Globe Theatre stood very still, delivering their lines with minimal motion or physical communication. In the version I watched, actors and actresses move around comfortably, embrace, add little hand gestures and such; making the whole thing seem much more natural. These things also helps interpret meaning and portray a character's personality when the language is obscure; and add new, fresh meaning to the dialogue. The scene when Laertes takes his leave of his sister Ophelia and their father Polonius towards the beginning of the play is a good example of this. When Polonius begins to give his parting advice to his son. By Laertes' and Ophelia's manner, a rolling of eyes, a chiming in in unison with their father here and there, we understand that Polonius's long-winded counsel is familiar, frequent, and repetitive. Without changing the lines, the scene takes on a kind sarcasm and hijinks that makes it easier to understand.

The actors themselves add by their acting, as must needs be, their own new take on the characters. Horatio becomes gruff but lovable, further affirming my positive opinion of him. Polonius looses all that is sinister and becomes wise, foolish, doddering, comical, and dear. Gertrude shows real remorse that almost makes us forgive her. Rosencratz and Guildenstern are gullible, unintelligent, and overarchingly effeminate, which almost makes them interesting. Ophelia overacts, turning one of my favorite characters from the play into something utterly insufferable. I responded to most of her lines by pressing the mute button on my remote. David Tennant adds some of his signature charm and quirk and playfulness, his quick, jumpy ways and his dark edge to the title character, really bringing Prince Hamlet to life.

There was a bit of dirtiness added that I didn't see as necessary, though I suppose movie-makers see it as an attempt to appeal to a modern audience. The play-within-a-play was rather vulgar, with one of the clowns wearing a tasteless pair of novelty boxers. When Ophelia lost her mind, I was blindsided by her suddenly and needlessly ripping off her dress. These things really don't add to the play at all, rather cheapen it.

With the exception of Ophelia, the casting was excellent, boasting a couple of well-known names. Using celebrity actors, however, has a downside. Their work may be truly brilliant, but for many viewers, their past roles eclipse their current, making the play more difficult to follow. If, in your mind, you can only think of what was supposed to be dastardly Claudius as Jean-Luc Picard, it is unarguably more difficult to take the character seriously. If you think you hear The Doctor speaking every third time Hamlet opens his mouth, it is sure to be a distraction.

In conclusion, changing things like setting and dress, and acting style to something a modern viewer finds more familiar makes the play more accessible to him or her while still preserving the beauty of William Shakespeare's high, grand, gorgeous language. My twelve-year-old brother sat and watched the three-hour movie with me. He has never read Shakespeare, and has always expressed the heart-breaking, “Because it is Shakespeare, it is therefore boring,” opinion that seems so prevalent among today's youth. However, the setting was so familiar, the acting so clear, that he followed quite well and enjoyed it thoroughly.

.................I need a vacation.
I'm tired in my bones and in my brain and in my heart. A nap doesn't fix that. A good long vacation, someplace cool and sparsely populated, pretty scenery and leisure time would. I wish.
Life is pretty crazy right now, if you hadn't guessed. School is taking up most of my brain. Finally finished Hamlet, though I still have to write a paper on it and watch a movie version. David Tennant just did a version though, so that's okay. ;)
Stressing over dance stuff, because I'm a ditz and I can never remember to schedule preschooler practices for a Wednesday night before Wednesday actually rolls around, so the widdles aren't getting the practice they need; and 'cause there's a practice scheduled on November sixth for the thirteen people involved in the Christmas dance. Problem there? I still haven't choreographed the stupid thing. It's just plain not working. No Joy to work with, can't work with Corrinne to save me because she doesn't focus and she gets intimidated trying to choreograph with me. The song doesn't lend itself to the number of people who want to be in it, but I've already advertised what song we're doing and GAH!! Lol. :)
And then there's Sherlock. Not that that's adding to the stress. Actually, I think it's partly keeping me sane. Reading Sherlock books and researching Sherlock timelines and working on the fanfiction-esque story I'm writing about Sherlock. It's hush-hush, though, 'cause I'm seriously serious about publishing it, possibly for the first time in my life. I'm not even gonna post the title here, because thus far I'm the only person on the internet to have the idea and I want it to stay that way. And there's my muse, Benedict Cumberbatch playing Sherlock Holmes on the new BBC series, where Sherlock is a tech-savvy, nicotine-patch-using darling. How darling? This darling. And this and this and this and this and this darling. You'll want to mute that last one, as it's set to irritating music. But anyway.
But all of (school, dance, Sherlock, writing, etc.) that is just hiding or distracting from or in the background of what's really bothering me.
It's this God thing. I know, isn't it always a God thing with me?
It all comes from this deep conviction that American Christianity and the American Church just . . . isn't working. We aren't really doing the job we were given to do. Everything is over-complicated and compartmentalized and tainted with the consumerism of the culture around us. We've gotten too far away from what the Church, the Bride of Christ, was originally supposed to be.
And every time I'm at my church, I don't have rest. I want to be AnYwHeRe else.
And any time I'm in worship, well, it's complicated. I keep getting this weird feeling like something's off. And I keep thinking of this one Bible verse, where God tells the Israelites that he doesn't want their sacrifices, he wants their obedience.
So I'm starting to think that maybe this is God getting me ready for something Radical. That He's got a calling for my life that has something to do with doing church and Christianity differently that what has come to be expected.
And my parents are really enthralled with ideas like home church; anything that's more real, more like Christ than a multi-million dollar building and Sunday mornings.
And then I started reading Ezekiel. First few chapters, the parts about God calling Ezekiel. I might as well quote it here:
Ezekiel 2 “Stand up, son of man,” said the voice. “I want to speak with you.” ² The Spirit came into me as he spoke, and he set me on my feet. I listened carefully to his words. ³ “Son of man,” he said, “I am sending you to the nation of Israel, a rebellious nation that has rebelled against me. They and their ancestors have been rebelling against me to this very day. ⁴ They are a stubborn and hard-hearted people. But I am sending you to say to them, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says!’ ⁵ And whether they listen or refuse to listen—for remember, they are rebels—at least they will know they have had a prophet among them.
⁶ “Son of man, do not fear them or their words. Don’t be afraid even though their threats surround you like nettles and briers and stinging scorpions. Do not be dismayed by their dark scowls, even though they are rebels. ⁷ You must give them my messages whether they listen or not. But they won’t listen, for they are completely rebellious! ⁸ Son of man, listen to what I say to you. Do not join them in their rebellion. Open your mouth, and eat what I give you.”
⁹ Then I looked and saw a hand reaching out to me. It held a scroll, ¹⁰ which he unrolled. And I saw that both sides were covered with funeral songs, words of sorrow, and pronouncements of doom.

Ezekiel 3

¹ The voice said to me, “Son of man, eat what I am giving you—eat this scroll! Then go and give its message to the people of Israel.” ² So I opened my mouth, and he fed me the scroll. ³ “Fill your stomach with this,” he said. And when I ate it, it tasted as sweet as honey in my mouth.
⁴ Then he said, “Son of man, go to the people of Israel and give them my messages. ⁵ I am not sending you to a foreign people whose language you cannot understand. ⁶⁷ But the people of Israel won’t listen to you any more than they listen to me! For the whole lot of them are hard-hearted and stubborn. ⁸ But look, I have made you as obstinate and hard-hearted as they are. ⁹ I have made your forehead as hard as the hardest rock! So don’t be afraid of them or fear their angry looks, even though they are rebels.” No, I am not sending you to people with strange and difficult speech. If I did, they would listen!
¹⁰ Then he added, “Son of man, let all my words sink deep into your own heart first. Listen to them carefully for yourself. ¹¹ Then go to your people in exile and say to them, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says!’ Do this whether they listen to you or not.”
¹² Then the Spirit lifted me up, and I heard a loud rumbling sound behind me. (May the glory of the Lord be praised in his place!)^{[a] 13} It was the sound of the wings of the living beings as they brushed against each other and the rumbling of their wheels beneath them.
¹⁴ The Spirit lifted me up and took me away. I went in bitterness and turmoil, but the Lord’s hold on me was strong...., ¹⁷ “Son of man, I have appointed you as a watchman for Israel. Whenever you receive a message from me, warn people immediately. ¹⁸ If I warn the wicked, saying, ‘You are under the penalty of death,’ but you fail to deliver the warning, they will die in their sins. And I will hold you responsible for their deaths. ¹⁹ If you warn them and they refuse to repent and keep on sinning, they will die in their sins. But you will have saved yourself because you obeyed me.
²⁰ “If righteous people turn away from their righteous behavior and ignore the obstacles I put in their way, they will die. And if you do not warn them, they will die in their sins. None of their righteous acts will be remembered, and I will hold you responsible for their deaths. ²¹ But if you warn righteous people not to sin and they listen to you and do not sin, they will live, and you will have saved yourself, too.”
So yeah. Not that I'm a prophet or whatever. But it feels suspiciously like God is saying something to me through these passages. I'm praying and searching, and a bit distracted. Trying to figure this whole thing out. Isn't that what life is about?

A Paper Written for School on the Topic of my Most Recent Literary Crush

So many remember Sherlock Holmes as first love. For some literally, for others merely literarily. The tall thin man with the hooked nose and this long fingers pressed together, eyes closed in thought. The quivering energy and the dizzying intellect. The dark, almost sinister, man we don't really understand, as seen by the friendly, commonplace man we know completely. And it's not just that we know him, it's that we are him. When it comes to Holmes, we are all simply Watson. We see the Man through a mist of myth and mystery. The living thing becomes the stuff of legend.

Why are we so enthralled with Sherlock Holmes? Where does he fit into our psyche? We do not identify with him, which is usually the basis of a truly great character. Quite the opposite, really. We are drawn to him because he is so foreign to us. All of his darkness and enigma and untouchability is what makes us love him.

There is a whole class of characters like him. From Jay Gatsby to The Doctor to Dr. Gregory House, we are compelled and enthralled (and in love) with what we do not understand. Which makes sense when you think about it. Why else would mystery novels (and movies, and television series) be so overwhelmingly popular. How else did Agatha Christie publish 66 mystery novels and 14 short story collections during her lifetime? Why are there more than 175 Nancy Drew novels and over three-hundred devoted to The Hardy Boys? Not to forget our Sherlock Holmes. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's short stories and novels about the detective are some of the most beloved, the most remembered, the most retold, and the most reinvented of all time. It's something we all, as human beings, have in common. To put it simply, we love a good mystery.

This is why plots like that of Doyle's “The Red-Headed League” fascinate us. Information is doled out to us in measured, teasing doses, stringing us along viciously. Yet willingly, obediently even, we eat it up, hungry for more. Through Doctor Watson's blind eyes, we see the same things Holmes does, but we understand nothing until we are told. We are frightened, what is coming? We are waiting in the dark with Watson, comforted by the presence of his revolver, straining to hear anything beyond the breathing of our companions, wracking our brains to attempt to understand what it is we are waiting for. We are disturbed at Holmes' description of the criminal, we wonder how it is he knows of him. We wait, holding our breath in childlike faith for the brilliant detective to reveal all to us. Then, to hear the name of the culprit, to learn how Sherlock solved the mystery. We realize how blind we truly were! How could we have not seen, how did we not also figure out the truth?

This is mystery. The question, the agonizing wait, the build in suspense, the revelation. Exposition, rising action, climax, denouement. Inching towards edge of our seat, relaxing again. This is why we love Sherlock Holmes.

So there's a reason I don't post links to my blog on my facebook. There's a reason I don't advertise the fact that I blog. There's a reason I'm okay with not knowing any of the people that follow my blog. Except for Joy and Reese, and my Dad, and that one guy from my youth group.
It's a very good reason too. Sometimes I forget how good. But on nights like last night, I can't help but remember.

Sponsoring a Compassion International child shouldn't cause drama, but it does. It's my job to collect the money, and I find myself getting walked all over by people who think they can do it better than I can. I didn't want the job in the first place, I took it because no one else would. And now I really. Really. Want out.

An ego the size of Texas a leader does not make. Throwing out hints to the teacher's questions during youth group 'cause you're too good to answer them yourself does not a leader make. A friend. A mentor. A good example. Loving the kids younger than yourself. Making yourself available and accessible to them. Giving them a leg up in their walk with Christ, showing them your walk with Christ, giving good advice. That makes a leader. And brother? (Yeah, I know he won't read this, but I'm saying it anyway). The young men, the boys in our youth group NEED!!! that. Not whatever it is you think you're doing.

Some Wednesdays, I come home from church so tired. So very, very tired.

chemistry

It's crazy! How often my chemistry curriculum winds up sounding terribly romantic.
Take today for instance, "On the other hand, when strong bonds are formed, a lot of energy is released."
It's been like that throughout the entire course, usually when talking about chemical bonds.
And there's so much beauty in a Lewis structure, in looking at exactly how one element binds to another.
How can anyone look at the world around us, how can a high schooler taking chemistry, let alone a real scientist, say there is no God?
When there is order and beauty and romance to be found in this world, on an atomic level?
I'm just saying......

So last night, I got to go see Joy at her school. What? I hadn't covered that yet? Oops. So, yeah, my bestie is a college freshman. I would have already lost my mind without her here at home if it weren't for facebook, and the fact that her college is about forty-five minutes away.
Joy wanted me to hear the praise band, so last night, Reese (with Joy's older brother in tow) picked me up and took me to the school for "unchapel." Though, I'm still not sure what the difference is between unchapel and chapel.
There was the torrential downpour on the way there. Like, seriously, couldn't see the lines on the road, couldn't see the car in front of us, ugh. I thought we were gonna die. But, we survived. And then we got really . . . really . . . really . . . REALLY!!!!! wet. Attempting to get from the car to Joy's dorm room to meet up with her and her fiance (Wait, I didn't cover that either? Stupid life making it hard to blog. Yeah, they're engaged. Eeep!! :) And btw, guess who's the maid of honor . . .).We had umbrellas, but they don't really help when the rain is coming sideways and the puddles are three feet deep. And then we had to make it from the dorm to the auditorium. We gave up on the umbrellas and embraced the fact that . . . we were just going to have to be wet. Laughed at the guys and their insanity. Us girls walked super-slow to sneak in some catching-up time. It was great.
But anyway, I got to hear the praise band, and the speaker. It was an awesome time of worship. And of all the reasons I miss my best friend, I hadn't realized that one of them was that I miss worshiping with her! And being incredibly irreverent during the most serious of speakers. Don't get me wrong, we listen for sure, but there are always moments when they'll say something, that only me and Joy would find hysterically funny, and we're just gone.
Got to see her dorm room too, which was fun; and meet the roommate for all of twenty seconds, which was awkward; and hang out with Joy, Reese, Joy's brother, and Joy's fiance, all at the same time, which is always uproariously hilarious.
And there was the whole God-thing. Seems like these days, no matter what I'm doing, there's a percentage of my brain that just going, "Okay, God. What's next. High school is almost over, where are You taking me?" Last night, that percentage was pretty high.
The heavens didn't part (unless you count the scary lightening), God didn't strike me blind and give me a new name, I didn't have a vision or an out-of-body experience. But I did walk away, a little chastised, and with this one thought, that I might as well share with you:
Nothing is impossible for God. No, really, Luke 1:37 "For nothing is impossible with God."
What have you been been telling God is impossible? What problem has been too big to conquer? What hope have you shied away from, scared of getting hurt? What dream has been to scary to admit, even to yourself. I know mine! Maybe we even do it without thinking about it, just subconsciously adopting an attitude that God can do anything . . . except this one thing. So here's the challenge: surrender it to Him, and see what He does with it.

And then there's today. Kill myself attempting to get caught up in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, apply for more college scholarships, look at more college websites, Chemistry, double on Spanish for skipping yesterday, attempt to finish choreographing the preschooler's dance (Jimmy Needham, Just a Heartbeat) that I was supposed to start having practices for two weeks ago, pick a version of Do You Hear What I Hear for the Christmas Eve service (yes, it's early, but these things tend to get away from me), and attempt to find time to watch Howl's Moving Castle.
But the weather is really, really, really gorgeous, so it's all gonna be okay.
Have a great day, everybody!!
~Ella





Oh yeah. One more thought. Turbbit.












See? Turbbit.

...It Begins

"It" being senior year. Yeah.
Other than it being a huge deal, it's really . . . nothing. British Lit=piece of cake. Really, really, really yummy cake. Spanish=switching languages mid-high school career probably isn't smart, but it makes more sense than the French I was never going to use. And, switching from French to Spanish isn't that bad, switch a few pronunciations and gender-specific nouns and you're good to go. Geometry=*yawn*. End of story. And if physics is as fun this year as chemistry was last year, then no biggie.
So the actual actions of senior year aren't a big deal.
What is is the general idea of it. Ella, high school senior. Something about that . . . insanity!! And it might help if I had the FIRST idea, WHATSOEVER what happens after graduation. Mleh.
And then there's the whole thing of spending every day with my head in books again. Miss math one day, double up the next. Try to have English done before the kids are ready for lunch in front of the television (. . . Dick Van Dyke show this week . . . ugh.) Try to get my head around algebra problems. The same algebra problems as four months ago, coincidentally. I didn't quite finish my text book last year, so I'm stuck doing them. Again. Now. I'm starting to wonder if this is how Frodo felt when he came back to the Shire. "It doesn't matter that you been on adventures and saved the world and met elves and dwarves and men and wizards. Live in your house. Eat cheese, and smoked meats. Go down to the pub. Eat chips, watch telly." Whoops. Sorry. Slipped into Doctor Who there a bit. But anyway. I went halfway across the country this summer. I got a taste of how I want to live. I met a ministry that is . . . incredible. That I'm called to. I ministered to little Spanish-speaking children in apartment complexes in Texas. I met some of the . . . most incredible people on the planet. I co-directed a county-wide dance camp, twenty-five students, four teachers, five days. I lead Bible studies about God's love with two different age groups . . . and learned more than I taught. I got up at six o'clock every morning with Corinne (who stayed with us through the camp) to study God's word together. Girls (and their parents) from other churches who are fighting to get dance groups established were encouraged and equipped. And the Friday night presentation? Was beyond amazing. Exhilarating. The girls did awesome, I was sooo proud of them. All of the presentations came together beautifully, and you could really see how much they had learned over the course of the week. And, me and Joy's "secret side-goal" happened too. See, where we live, racial unity really isn't something that happens a lot. I'm trying to be delicate, please don't misunderstand me or be offended. As for myself personally, I think racial prejudice is disgusting. Vomitous. But it exists, on both sides, where I come from. And that week? Girls of all colors came together on even ground, and had a great time together. And their parents all came out Friday night to see what they had learned. Our sanctuary was full, and multicultural. It was beautiful. And it confirms my long-held belief, that the way to fix the problems of this world is to look to, to prevent them in, the next generation. Get the kids, and the adults will follow.
I've watched God do truly amazing things this summer.
And now I'm sitting on my couch. Reading Beowulf. Doing Algebra. I concede with my intellect that these things are important. But that doesn't mean I'm not overwhelmingly bored.
God's working on me, though. This morning, he really convicted me. That this year, this time, is where He has called me NOW. Only He knows what He has for the future, but it's my job to live for Him here and now. Which means doing algebra, physics, and youth group on Wednesdays, cheerfully as though for the Lord.
Dear readers, wish me luck.
~Ella

Oh, goodness...

I just read over about the last six months of posts, and I realized a couple of things

A) I basically say the same thing over and over. Why do you guys put up with me?

B) I'm really a different person than that chick who was posting here a while back.

But anyway...

We've got VBS behind us, which is always a relief. Love it, wouldn't miss it for the world, really really glad it only comes once a year. Basically the same deal as last year, crew-leading first-and-second graders with Joy, 'cept our new friend Reese joined the team too. Well, not so new, I suppose. Since Christmas-ish. Remember the New Years Eve post? Well, yeah. But anyway, the kids were brilliant, like they always are. I love that age group!! They're still so sweet, and they still have that great attitude that they loose in favor of "coolness" around the time they turn ten.

Also, same deal as last year with playing a psycho part in a bunch of skits only small children would enjoy. This year, I was a star named Sparkle. Sparkle loves to sparkle and sing for Father God. See what I mean? Except this year, it wasn't craziness with Joy and the not-really-but-kind-of-friend-person-thing we got to work with last year. It was craziness with Joy's . . . crowd? Can you call it that. This bunch of really close (and really older than me) people that hang out at her house all the time. Her, her (twenty-two? I think?) older brother Al, her (increda-goofy, but increda-good for her, I definitely approve) boyfriend Mark, Reese (who's twenty-five), and Reese's mom Donna. I had a decidedly less than perfect attitude going into it, but I was pleasantly surprised. Still get the third-wheel feeling (new, and not fun, but bearable) feeling around Joy and Mark, but as a whole, it was really really fun. Reese is single too, so we pick on them together. Lol. But Reese is a really good friend too. And, Al decided I exist. I mean, he's always been nice to me, but with some decided distance there. Last week he treated me pretty much like he treats his other female friends, so less awkwardness there. And, of course, there's Joy. My best friend on the whole planet, don't know what I'd do without her, Joy. So it was really okay.

What else interesting has happened lately? Oh!! There was that whole thing with Stephen. Yikes. Can I post about that here?

So, I don't know if I've said it before, but a while back (okay, more recently than I wish), I really liked him. Maybe you could tell that from how I've talked about him. What you haven't been able to tell was how bad he hurt me. When you care about somebody, they have this ability to either help or hinder your self-esteem. He chose hinder. I understand not liking me back, that's just a fact of life. But he took it too far, and treated me badly. And it's like I said to, well, I forget who, but if somebody treats you like nothing for long enough? You start to, almost, believe it.

That might be the number one thing God did with me on that trip. He healed me. He cleaned every last remnant of the jerk out of my heart, and he used the guys on the trip, who treated me like a lady deserves to be treated, and like a friend, to remind me of my worth. More on them later.

But then I got home. Of course nothing had changed, I hadn't expected it to. I was willing to just let it go. Then during worship last Sunday, God just wouldn't let me go. It was like He was seriously there poking me, saying, "I don't care if you're over it, you can't just let a brother get away with that." I knew I had to call him out.

It was the scariest, hardest, saddest thing I ever had to do. After worship, he always goes to get a drink of water. So I bolted out of service, waited for him to come out, and called his name. I asked him if I could talk to him for a minute, I dragged him into the youth room. And I told him everything. I told him I didn't have the words to say to him, and that I was asking God to give them to me. I asked him what I've ever done to deserve the way he treated me, I told him I was OOOVVVEEERRRr him. I admitted to him that he had hurt me, and I told him that the next time a girl likes him, he needs to deal with it differently. I told him I loved him as a brother in Christ. I told him I just wanted to be normal again.

He wouldn't admit he'd ever treated me any differently than any other human being. He made excuses. He tried to defend himself. And no matter how mad I was at him, I didn't yell at him. I wasn't ugly. I went to him in love, I kept my patience. And when I'd said everything I had to say and he started to leave, I asked if I could shake his hand. He's the sort of person who takes a handshake seriously. And he shook my hand. Which, I think, means that no matter how much he disagrees with what I said, he heard me, and he had some shred of respect for me by the end of it. It was a truce.

After he left, I near about fell apart. Thank God (no, I'm actually being serious. Thank God.) Joy came out then to get a drink of water. So I dragged her into the bathroom and told her everything. She was proud of me. My mom was proud of me. His sister, my friend Corinne, was proud of me. I think his dad is even proud of me. He keeps giving me these funny grins.

But you know what? I think more than any of them, I'm proud of me. He didn't beat me. I did what God wanted me to do. I did it boldly, and by His strength, I did it well. It was so much more than hard for me, but I did it. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And I think that's all the big stuff that's happened over the last few weeks. We did get invites to our dance camp out to the area churches, waiting on return on those. Looking forward, this week is downtime and helping mom finish the canning-freezing-pickling from the garden. Next week is, Lord willing, Exalt dance camp. Another week off, then our dance camp. Wish us luck!!!!!!

By the way, I'm home from Dallas. Have been for a week, actually. I suppose I could've mentioned that before the spazz attack about chinchillas.

I won't be posting all the minutiae here, because everybody here, can also go here, to my Dallas-specific blog.

However, my readers here get a better, more in-depth, more honest version of life than readers over there, because most of those readers actually know me, and aren't Joy or my parents. So, in the next little bit, look out for a couple posts about things I don't want to advertise to my entire church body, or my grandparents, or my whole facebook friends list, or people who actually WENT ON the trip, or etc.

Love always to my awesome readers!!!!

~Ella

I show Corinne and Andrew this video of a chinchilla who enjoys being poked.

Andrew asks: Aren't chinchilla's edible?

My answer? This and this.

Hope you find this as funny as I did. Though, you probably won't.

I love the internet....

So I've been putting off blogging because I have nothing new to say. A Decidedly Better Attitude than last time (remember? a couple posts ago? The Stuff? lol.)

Life consists of:

School. Attempting to finish algebra, catching up in chem., fighting to maintain a passing grade in French, and being hopelessly ahead in history (the Civil War, oddly enough). Quit Bible a while back, as the Crazy Heretic was only serving to cause me to sin, by considering murdering him. Gave up on literature, seeing as how I've already read more books this year than most kids read in their entire high school careers. Getting ready for the *gulp* SATs. I just keep telling myself I can take them again next year.

Dallas. As in, missions trip to. Raising money, making plans, figuring out flights. If you aren't reading my trip blog, To Dallas (and Beyond?), then I should tell you that Mama and Daddy decided to buy my plane ticket. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still waiting on my "encouragement rep" to get back with me on last minute plans, packing lists, and such.

Aaand, last but not least. Actually, most, possibly. Dance camp. I don't think a day goes by that I don't get something accomplished for it, but I'm not stressin' about it anymore. I got a purple accordion folder, a clipboard, a planning meeting or two, and some perspective. Everything's gonna be alright. And I can't tell you how incredibly psyched I am. I know that it should feel like work, but every minute I spend on it feels like, I don't know, fun? We did finally decide to add a "primary" class, so our ages now run from six through eighteen. Eeep!!! My (incredibly talented dancer, daughter of my incredibly talented aunt and mentor) cousin keeps joking about coming. I don't think she actually gets how much that terrifies me. And it's possible that she's not actually kidding.

And, that's about it. Sorry for the recap!

~Ella

Doctor Whoooooo.

Yes, folks, if you didn't already know, Saturday night was the season premier. Or, if you're like us, don't have tv, and wait for it to hit iTunes, Sunday was the premier. Either way, it happened. As you may've guessed, I'm a bit of a fan. Okay, a big fan. Okay, I'm kind of obsessed. Lol.

But for right now, I could just about kill the entire crew. From the head writer, to Matt Smith himself, to the smallest errand-runner on the set. Because they killed the Doctor. In the first episode.

It's possible that my dear friend Joy has already said it best, so I just might quote her article on it in it's entirety here.

"No matter how much you know that you know that you KNOW something can't be right or real in Doctor Who, there's always that little seed of fear.

You know the actors have signed contracts for the next three seasons. You KNOW that head writers wouldn't commit career suicide that way. You KNOWKNOWKNOW!!!! that something like that happening doesn't match up with the preview for the season or the interviews that have come out or the pictures that have been leaked from filming.

But that fear will always be there. Because the writers are JUST that crazy. The plot line is absolutely THAT unpredictable. The possibility is ALWAYS there that everything you thought you knew about this show could be turned upside down. So you sit there, and you tell yourself, 'Of course not. Moffat isn't that stupid. He's a later version, killed so that the earlier one can do things right where HE messed up.' You think, 'This isn't for REAL. This is another scare, like the marriage thing. Or the Jenny thing. It's gotta be less than it looks like.'

But you still feel like crying as that timelord body floats out onto a lake in Utah, burning bright in its funeral pyre. A small part of you is just about ready to give up hope on fictional humanity, shrivel up, and die.

D: Swear to me. On something important.

A: ..........fish fingers and custard.

D: My life in your hands, Amelia Pond.

D: And, Doctor Song, you've got that face again.

R: What face?

D: The one that says 'He's incredibly hot when he's clever.'

R: ...*chuckles* This is my normal face.

D: Yes, it is.

Have I mentioned how much I usually believe Moffat deserves to die for his evil ability to leave off on a cliffhanger?"

So, yeah. Incredibly frustrating. This week, waiting for the next episode, might not be fun, but it's always good to know that another episode is just around the corner.

Toodles!

*takes a deep breath*

Well, thank heavens that's over. Craziest weekend EvEr.

Friday night was the Secret Church simulcast. David Platt, who wrote That Book, Radical, is the pastor of a church in Birmingham, Alabama. And this church puts on this event called Secret Church. Basically, they take about seven hours on a Friday night, have some very simple worship, and study the word. Dive down as deep as they can. It's about learning to identify with our brothers and sisters who live in persecution for their faith, all over the world. And my youth group congregated on our youth pastor's living room floor to watch it via simulcast. Fifty thousand people, all over the world, watching the same thing, learning the same things from God's Word, at the same time. Each Secret Church event focuses on a different area of the persecuted church, and Friday night's was India. Fifty thousand believers, brothers and sisters in Christ, praying the same thing at the same time, that God would move amongst the believers in India. Can you imagine? If the prayers of a righteous man availeth much, how about the prayers of fifty thousand? Incredible.

Of course, seven hours is a long time, and one in the morning is extremely late. Corinne and Isabel fell asleep. Tabby turned into a turtle . . . . not sure about that one. And Stephen? Well, he got that "You are keeping me awake, therefore I hate you." scowl on his face. Lol.

Got home around two Saturday morning, took a bit of a nap, got up, went to church for kid's choir practice.

Came home, cut the grass, did other preparation-ey things. And then it was Sunday morning. Hope your Easter/Resurrection Sunday/whatever you want to call it was blessed. We presented our dance in the 'sunrise' service, to the song Lead Me To The Cross, by the Newsboys. The real Newsboys, not Tait and friends. Anyway. It would've been great if I hadn't Tripped. Yes, folks, went down on my knees, stepped on the hem of my skirt, tripped.

Other than that, it was awesome, the girls did great, etc.

Helped with the kids Easter cantata type thing in the late service. Sat in a corner on the stage during their rendition of I Can Only Imagine, to hand the little soloist her microphone at the right time. Skittered up on stage to stand behind Noah, the little boy in our children's ministry who just so happens to be blind, hold his hands, and lead him through the (crazy fun) motions to Take it All. It was kind of awesome. Noah just has this outlook on life that's . . . refreshing.

Then WAM (worship art's ministry) practice, with the same kids, working with them on their hip-hop piece as a help to Mom. They're coming along so well with that one. It's so cute!!!

Came home, took a shower (dance, kids dance, more kids dance. How many people come home from Sunday-church sweaty?), went to Nikki and Dawn's for the annual Easter egg hunt. This year, all of us from Riley and up hid so that the four littlest cousins could hunt. Then us "big kids" or, "old people," depending on who you ask, had an awesome scavenger hunt, at the end of which lurked some candy and an iTunes gift card. I love growing up. :D

Went to Nana and Papaw's for a visit. Ate leftover ham. Then Riley started really not feeling good (went to the doctor this morning, sinus/ear infection) and we went home.

Watched the PREMIER OF DOCTOR WHO, SEASON SIX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hehehe, but that's a story for another post.

Have a good day!!

So I owe y'all an apology. That post yesterday was moopy, whiney, and not a great testimony. I'm not a-gonna take it down, 'cause that would be even lamer, but I am going to apologize for it. My attitude wasn't great, and I'm sorry for that.

I guess it all ties back to the fact that I'm not perfect. Not that I ever claimed to be, but I usually try better than that. God's not finished with me yet. But that's still no excuse for a lack of peace and a bad attitude.

So, forgive me?

~Ella

The Stuff

...for all that I'm not a huuuge Francesca Battistelli fan, if you've heard her new song the stuff, you might have an idea of how life is for Ella right now. If you haven't heard it, check it out here. And now, you get it. :D "Might not be what I would choose, but this is the stuff you use."

Okay, so it's not all that bad. But it's . . . something.

So saturday was the church giveaway, which wasn't such a big deal, aside from being at the church at eight in the morning. On a Saturday. An hour before I'd like to be up, at least. But I'm just whining. Then thrift storing for skirts for the Easter dance. Which is on Easter. Which is THIS Sunday. With Mom and Joy. And like, none of the people we were shopping for were able to go shopping with us, so it was all up to us. Which, as irritating as that sounds, was really a good thing, because when we all go shopping together, we fight, throw tantrums, and act like divas. :/

Then came home and planned for the DANCE CAMP. Which, we're actually going. The pastor approved the idea of me and Joy leading it, so we had a sit down and worked out a schedule that didn't require us to clone ourselves. We don't get to eat lunch, but we'll get everything done.

Sunday was church, which was kind of . . . not good. You know how sometimes the vibe is just different? Well, it was one of those days. I thought, between all of us girls, somebody was gonna die. But, I did turn in Compassion money to the lady whose bank account we're using for it, and only had to loan it three dollars of my own money besides my personal contribution to the fund to do it. Then church got out, one of the dance group girl's mom pulled me aside and got on me for not giving her enough information early enough. One of my friends pulled me aside AGAIN to ask me a question that was ABSOLUTELY not a major deal, and between it all, we didn't get the prayer time we really needed.

Sunday night would've been great, except for this one little kid who is driving me nutty. She's two. Terrible, terrible two.

Came home, slept, was woken up at quarter-to-eight by Corinne, texting to ask me if I was coming to Otherband practice today. I wanted to. I asked Mom. She said no, I had to do school, and my priorities were mixed up, because school should come first. We fought, blah, blah, blah.

Couldn't find my STUPID!!! Rosetta Stone headset, so it took me about an hour to get started in French, which I haven't done all year. Corinne called and said that the skirt I bought her makes her look like a "prairie girl." A.) I have no clue what that means. B.) It's just gonna have to be good enough. C.) If anybody else gives me bad new today, I JUST MIGHT SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday is a youth event. Which makes the dance girls coming over to tie-dye a shirt to wear in the dance extremely difficult, because the event runs 'til one in the morning. So, if we pull it off, everybody comes back to my house, we get up at an ungodly hour the next morning, tie-dye, skitter to the church for "practice" for the kids Easter program, where everybody's parents will pick them up. Come home, eventually untie and wash tie-dyes, bring them to the SUNRISE service the next morning, give them to their recipients. Who will change into them in the fifteen minutes we'll have to get ready for our dance. Somebody's is bound to not fit, and somebody is bound to hate theirs.

Then go to my cousins after church for the annual Easter Egg Hunt, which got old about six years ago, and is always awkward.

And on top of everything, there's this one stupid idiot. Who keeps popping up in my head, doing stupid things, breaking my concentration, and bringing me down.

Somewhere in all of this, I have to find time to send out MORE support letters for Dallas, hope to dear-merciful-heavens I get donations by the due-date of MAY SECOND, pick songs for dance camp, write a Bible study for dance camp, and try like anything not to kill anybody.

THIS IS THE STUFF THAT DRIVES ME CRAZY, THIS IS THE STUFF, SOMEONE SAVE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To Dallas (and Beyond?)

Howdy! Just figured I'd let y'all, my beloved blog followers, know that I've set up another blog, on another account, under a different name, about the missions trip I'm going on. It's mainly for the friends, family, and church family who're gonna wanna keep up with the whole deal. I'm gonna post there about the prep/fundraising process, then post by SMS after I leave.

I'll blog here too, because you guys get a slightly different, slightly less "people who know me and AREN'T Joy" version of the story. I'll be editing myself over there. But anyway. Here goes nothin'.

Be sure and check out To Dallas (and Beyond?)

Have a great day! Catchya later!

...dizzy...

I love it when my state of mind changes ten times before I actually get around to the blog post I plan to write.

This morning, I was playing the whole "Yeah, I'm the big adult person," game; this afternoon I was being the peculiar brand of CrAzY I am when it's just me and my mum. And now tonight? I'm that kind of quiet I only get when I'm reminded of my insufficiencies.

So the tone you get on this post might be a little . . . mixed up. Bear with me.

Spent the night at Nana's (with the sibs . . . and the little cousins) so Mom and Dad could go out-of-town for their anniversary. Not that we couldn't've stayed here at home . . . grandma's . . . whatever. We just decided not to.

Watched the Lion King (yes, again) with my cousins. Hail hadn't seen it yet, and she loved it.

Came home, went to the laundromat with mom 'cause the drain field's still messed up. There was insanity, and feathers. Lots and lots of feathers.

Then "otherband" practice at the church, which we were late for, and went a particular kind of bad that I just don't want to talk about. Period.

So, yeah, crazy day, dizzy day, ready for bed. 'Night, all!

Compassion

com·pas·sion [kuhm-pash-uhn] –noun

1. a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune,

accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering.

So my youth group has decided to sponsor a child through Compassion International. Myself and a friend are in charge of choosing a child, and then collecting the money from our fellow youth members after that.

And I'm sitting here, poring over face after face after face, looking at boys and girls, of all ages between thirteen and seventeen, orphaned or in AIDS-affected areas or with special needs. And I'm sitting here crying, because we have to choose just one. And I feel so guilty, looking at the specific stories and needs of each, and trying to choose one with our group in mind. How can I take it upon myself to choose who to help, when they all need it?

I know I don't have very many readers on here, but you guys? These kids need our help. Compassion's got a great thing going. It's so easy to sign up, and thirty-eight dollars a month? We can do that. Get your youth group, get your family, get a few friends, and let's do this!

Really?

Because that's what I'm saying to my life right now. Really? I mean, really?

Dallas. That one word can mostly sum up what's going on in my head. Well, that plus another couple, but more on that later. This summer, I'm (HOPEFULLY!!!!!) going on a two-week missions trip. To Dallas Texas. Now, not only is Dallas the furthest from home I've EVER been, it'll also be the longest amount of time I've been away from my family. I'm seventeen, so you wouldn't think that'd be too terribly big a deal, but, well, it is.

But I'm So Incredibly Excited. I don't think I've been more than an hour without thinking about it since I decided to go. At Acquire the Fire (whoops, kinda skipped that part. Again, more later), they introduced us to this group called Global Expeditions. They're mission is taking students all over the country and all over the worlds to serve God. In Dallas, we'll be helping in homeless shelters and soup kitchens, volunteering at church plants in apartment complexes, and helping with (*gasp*) Vacation Bible Schools. :D Fingers crossed I get accepted for the trip, and that I can get the funds up.

Dance Camp. Second thing on the brain. Nope, not the camp I went to last year. That part's already settled. Me, Joy, Corinne, and a few others from the group at church are definitely going.

The un-settled part is this new . . . thing . . . that the pastor wants to do. He wants our church to have a dance camp for our area, and he wants us (Me, Joy, my parents, and the dance group's adult mentor) to figure it out. And the adult mentor wants me to do it, with Joy's help. And I'm like, "Come again? Whadjya say? 'Cause I don't think I heard ya right."

I mean, my super-dancer extraordinaire aunt puts on a dance camp every summer, and it takes all she has to pull it off. True, ours would be considerably smaller scale, but, um, yeah.

But, anyway, that's DEFINITELY!!! not a definite yet, so I'm trying to put it out of my mind, and, for that matter, not tell anybody about it. Oops. (Good thing nobody reads my blog!)

Other thing (and this is slight), is the band Red. Yes, thaaat Red. The band I'd love to hate, and kind of really hate that I love. Stephen had the bright idea ('cause him and Andrew are all tight and stuff now) to lend all his Red cds to my little brother to download them onto our computer. There's so much it won't even all fit on my iPod. This=Ella's brain is broket.

Oh, yeah, and Friday starts the Screnzy. That's right, folks, Script Frenzy '11 starts This Friday!! But then, that's really not that big a deal.

What is a big deal is that Mom and Dad are going out of town for the weekend, and dropping us at Nana and Papaw's Friday around noon. I therefore have to get my three-ish pages done before we leave, since it's my turn to go first this year. I will then pass the torch to Joy, who will write on day two, and so on.

And now I'd best be going. Andrew wants the computer. Probably to listen to/work on playing some of aforementioned new music. Yay.

Au revoir!

Okay. Sorry for the random post last night. Do you ever have one of those moments, where it just feels too awesome not the capture? Well, I had one last night. I was sitting on Corinne's couch, watching her, Anne, and Riley play Rock Band on the Playstation. Andrew and Stephen were in the next room listening to their (loud, metal) music, taking turns playing their iPods in the speakers, and talking about music. And all of our parents were in the room with the instruments, rocking out to some kind of eighties music and having entirely too much fun. And I'm like, you know? God's really blessed me with some awesome friends. Family, is more like it, I guess.

Church this morning was preeettyyyy spectacular too, although it was slightly trippy without Joy. She's staying the weekend with a friend. But I got to teach the first-fourth graders (boys and girls) a hip-hop dance to the MaryMary song, Shackles. And they did awesome. Even the fourth grade boys, who are already way too "cool" to do something like dance. I guess hip-hop is acceptable in their book.

Lol. Remember when I said Ella doesn't hip-hop? I guess God had something to say about that, huh?

It's such a blessing to watch these little ones worship. Last week, the younger half of the dance group (all girls) shared a piece they'd been working on for a long time, the Newsboys song In Wonder. The youngest girl involved was three, and the oldest (if you count twirling a streamer at the end to add tension/energy) was seventeen-year-old Joy.

See, last week was our church's annual "Night of Praise." Read: the praise band plays about a zillion and one songs, and the dance group shared our two, for a night of intense praise-and-worship.

And intense is just about the word for it. God showed up, and he showed off. And at the very start, one of the little-littles (who was in In Wonder) just couldn't stand still. While we're all singing, she's just down in front groovin', 'cause she doesn't know to curtail her worship yet. But it didn't stay with the littles. They're so contagious, everybody caught it. Even stupid Ella, standing on the stage with her stupid microphone, in her stupid position as back-up singer. After two years standing on that stupid (alright, I'll stop!) stage, I figured out how to just let go and worship my God in front of the crowd.

Aaaaaand, it was just in time for me to quit. That's right, folks, Ella (and Joy) are leaving the praise band. It's just time. I'll miss it, but it's time. And besides, now we have that much more energy to devote to the dance group.

Speaking of, the other song we shared last week was the one that Corinne choreographed to While You Were Sleeping by Casting Crowns. I was so excited for her to get to share that, I know it's a big step for her. It was a great piece, and she did a great job teaching it.

And now, everybody, I'd best be going. Sunday afternoon . . . stuff (including, but not limited to, a horrendous room that needs cleaning) to do. Catchya later!! :)

Not sure i've ever had this much fun. Hangin with Corine, Stephen & their fam. Rock band, jammin, and listenin to music. :D more later.

Hola, mi amigos. How's everybody this fiiine morning?
I've been better. Up late last night, headache this morning, blech.
It's been a while since I've been on, I guess I just haven't been in the mood. Still not, really. Way too much to do. But you know me and procrastinating.
So New Years Eve was epic. Not as epic as last year's youth group lock-in at the church, but . . . yeah. Wea ll went over to Joy's house. There was quite a group, actually. Her family, her grandparents, her uncle, her uncle's . . . friend? Donna (who goes to our church), Donna's daughter Reese, Joy's brother Al's girlfriend, and her friend/Joy's friend/their family's friend Kim.
I got forcibly convinced to stay the night, at the exact last minute. Like, as my parents were going out the door, so last minute, no-toothbrush sleepover.
Ella doesn't do spontaneous. Sorry folks, she just doesn't. Spontaneous with four 20+ year-olds? Eeeeven worse. See, Reese is twenty-five. She was the one doing most of the forcible convincing, and stayed the night too. Then Kim and Alexis (Al's girlfriend) stayed till about two-ish, so of course Al hung out too. So there was shy, keeps-to-herself, only sixteen little Ella hanging out with all of these big, adult-ish people . . . and Joy. Joy who's a whole heck of a lot more comfortable with that crowd than I am. We played about five games of twister, and two or three of human knot. It was wacky, man.
New Years day was, of course, the big annual airsoft war, which translates to sitting in Josh's sun room, looking out over the back yard, watching my brotheres and other guy folk shoot each other with pieces of plastic. Woohoo.

And, that's about it! Ttfn. :)

Heya from the arctic circle...or maybe that's just me. It certainly feels like it. We're under, eee, I don't know, ten inches of snow? Maybe a foot. Two years in a row we've had major snowfall, and, according to my grandmother, only the second time in thirty-nine years there's been snow on Christmas day. Guess it's one for the books.
Last Thursday was a blog-worthy event, I think. It was the Christmas gathering at Grandma's house/here at home (one and the same, remember?) with Mom's side of the family. I could probably come up with something snarky and clever there, probably a play on the lyrics to that old song about "Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother's house we go..." but I'm not really in the mood.
Anyway, Thursday, food was prepared (including my macaroni bites, but more on that later), then around six, my aunt and uncle, and my cousins Nikki and Dawn, showed up for presents and dinner. Pretty standard family Christmas goings-on.
But there was a twist. See, my grandmother has an . . . odd sense of humor. She got each of the six of us grandkids a pacifier. Like, rubber-and-plastic, babies-suck-on-them, pacifier. Weird thing the first.
We were each also given fire-engine red tube socks with jingle-bells and ribbons pinned to the toes. Weird thing the second.
We were then, thanks to a note in each of our gifts, lead on a chase after a final gift to share. Brown glass bottles of root beer, hidden in the trunk of her sedan. Weird thing the third, and, I suppose, the final.
So, somewhere, there's a picture in a camera of me, my three little siblings, and two little cousins sitting on the ground with our knees up to our chins, the better to show off our socks, with pacifiers in our mouths, and holding suspicious-looking brown glass bottles. I love my family.
I asked my aunt, who took the picture, to post it on Facebook so that I could get it, and my (eleven-year-old) cousin Nikki automatically said, "NO! I have friends on Facebook."
My (also eleven-year-old) brother, wasn't even still in the room. We were all eating his dust, and the socks and the pacifier lying on the ground.
So to my cousin, I said, "You'd be so much cooler if you just rocked the uncool-ness."
To which her mother replied, "Listen to your cousin!!"
And it occurred to me. I didn't used to be like that. I was the one shaking in my boots because I was petrified of doing anything embarrassing. I asked my mom when that had happened. When I had become okay with being myself. She didn't remember either. But, I guess it happened. :) Good to know.
Friday was, obviously, Christmas eve. My stomach tied itself up in knots, and refused to come untied. Solely because Friday night was the Christmas eve service, which meant our Christmas dance. Oh, was I nervous. Less about the three-minute dance itself, and more because of everything I had to remember and accomplish and such beforehand.
It went off without a hitch, though. Well, that's not entirely true. We couldn't find the belts, so the other girls wound up in pieces of curtain leftover from the live nativity, we didn't realize until the last minute that they would need slips, so we had to call someone and have them bring them, and we never did get the stage rearranged like we needed to, so nobody could see me from the neck down, but as far as stuff that really matters, it was perfect.
Saturday was, even more obviously, Christmas day. Typical Christmas morning, plus Grandma, Grandpa, and my Grandpa's sister, who was staying with us. So, we felt kind of . . . on display, but it was really okay. Aaaand my mommy got me my favoritest movie everrrrs. Whispers of the Heart, I've talked about it before. So, now Netflix can have their copy back.
And she got me knitting needles. For years, she and Daddy have been bugging me to learn how, and I've always told them that if somebody bought me some needles and a book, I'd learn. So she finally broke down and bought me a pair of knitting needles. Learning has been a bit harder than anticipated, but I'll get it, eventually.
Saturday night, we went to Nana's house for Christmas there. That part's always among my favorites. Somehow, it just doesn't feel like Christmas until we've celebrated it with my Dad's side of the family. Things always seem to, I don't know, matter more there. Like, before we opened presents, we all shared one thing that had been a blessing to us this Christmas. And it was all really serious, Like the families you read about in books and email forwards. But maybe that sounds a little dramatic. I'm not sure what I'm trying to describe here, but all I know is, I love my family.
Christmas time with Dad's family always makes it that much easier to remember that there's a part missing. Holidays are always the time we miss his sister (my Aunt Becky) and her family the most. They were just home last summer, but it still feels like it's been an eternity. Papaw got her and my cousin Cara on Skype later in the evening, but that's just not the same. It's like, "I know in my head that I'm talking to you, but it still feels suspiciously like talking to a computer screen." Which, besides making me feel slightly schizophrenic, makes it awkward.
Since Christmas, life has been kick back, chill out, watch movies, work on my knitting, and so on. I adore Christmas vacation.
This afternoon, we're set to go see Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Being a HuGe fan of the book, I'm a little wary. I'll let you know.
Ttfn!! :)

Weeee wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas. We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy New Year!!!!!

Well, kiddies, it's almost there. Less than a week until that favorite day of the year for young and old.
For once, I'm done with my shopping already. Well, kind of done. I was done, and then I decided to grow my list. I've been blessed this season, and I want to let that blessing keep right on going.
That slightly crazy hustle-and-bustle is going on all around me. It turns out Mom and Riley are allergic to the Christmas tree, so we're ditching it and putting up Grandma and Papa's artificial one today. Gotta hit the library to finish picking up my sources for my research paper on the effects of censorship on society, or something like that. Headed out to Dance Outfitters some time this week to pick up a couple skirts for the Christmas dance. Gotta hit Sam's Club for food for the family Christmas party, need to pop in at the Christian Bookstore to finish up some last minute shopping. I'll probably help Mom do all her Christmas baking today, or at least this week. Some time before Friday I need to make about three billion recipes of gingerbread biscotti, as that's what I'm giving all the adults in my life for Christmas.
I need to spend some serious time on inkpop this next couple weeks, finishing up some long overdue swaps and getting ready to promote my NaNoWriMo project. Need to finish editing said NaNoWriMo project, as I already have several people waiting on it. Oh, and on the subject of inkpop, I had something pretty cool happen to me, but I'll get back to that.
Also thinking of transferring all of my original poetry/song lyrics to a notebook, so that they'll all be together. Weighing the convenience of having them all in one place against the pain in the butt of transcribing them. It would take hours.
Christmas with Mom's side of the family here at home on Thursday. Christmas Eve (complete with Christmas dance, and the live nativity) Friday. And then it's . . . CHRISTMAS!!!!!! *Takes a deep breath,* Yikes. That's a lot.
In other news, the kittens have got to go. Mom and Dad (and the grandparents) are getting far too frustrated with their . . . everything. So us kids have to choose one of our precious babies, and find good homes for the other two. Joy wants one, still looking for a spot for the third...
Yesterday was the children's Christmas program at church. Every single one of them did an absolutely brilliant job. From the regular, Kindergarten-fourth grade kids who did the singing and the talking, to Anne and her friend, who danced to one of the songs, to the little preschoolers who did the nativity scene.
It was kind of interesting, playing a part in the behind-the-scenes part of the play. Seems like all my life, I've been on that stage. But now that I'm older, and with Mom as the director, I got a chance to glimpse the other half.
I sank more than twenty-four hours into making two sets of angel wings out of jewelry wire, gold pipe cleaners, tulle, and white feathers. And they wound up looking awesome, if I do say so myself.
Joy and me choreographed and taught the dance to Anne and her friend. And I really was so proud of the both of them. They did a phenomenal time.
My poor mother invested so much of herself into the whole shabang that she's utterly exhausted today. Between the shouting, the allergies, the weather, and the cold, she has next to no voice left. Poor her.
And now, with all of this left to do, I should probably quit procrastinating and get a mooooove on. Talk to you soon. Hope you and yours have a fantastic, blessed, beautiful, happy Christmas. Don't forget the reason for the season, and the manger that rested in the shadow of a cross, and the God who made himself flesh, came to us as an infant, and lived a sinless life to die an outcast's death, to take on the sin of the world. Jesus Christ is the reason for this season, and for every season, and for every breath.
So, as always, my question to you is, do ya know him?

Hiiiiiiiiii...

Firrrrst off, I won. NaNoWriMo, that is. 50k in a month. Go me.
Oh, yeah, and I won that too. Inkpop writing contest. True, it was a random drawing, but still, I won. I never win stuff like that. But hey, four free books. Coolio.
Can you tell anything about my mood? I've usually used about ten exclamation marks and at least three smilies.
"You mean, all of you? Or just your neck?" Yay for Avatar.
Oh, my gosh. Did you see The Last Airbender movie? Lame anyway, but if you were a fan of the series, um, two words. Epic. Fail. Uvetar Uung. Bleh.
And speaking of movies, so I finally broke down and saw Where the Wild Things Are. That movie. Creeped. Me out. Officially. *shiver*
And there's that other movie. My favoritestest ever movieee. Being, Whispers of the Heart, Japanese anime, very cooool. Get a feel for it here or here. It's cool, you should see it. We watched it at Tabby's birthday party. Seems like all my friends have their birthdays at this time of the year. Tabby's so unique. She's an artist, but she doesn't know it. And everything we did at her party reflected that. We made dresses out of duct tape and newspaper, decorated gingerbread houses and cupcakes, and painted tote bags with puffy paint. Then a handful of us stayed overnight. So, typical craziness with my gurrls. Playing Just Dance (OMG, is that game fun.), watched Whispers of the Heart, and stayed up talking (about trucks, tattoos, and, of course, guys) looooonnnng past when we should've gone to bed.
The next morning (being a Sunday) was Utter Insanity. A truly beautiful exhibition of Murphy's Law. The van wouldn't start for Mom and Dad, so everything I had left in the back of it, so that it would come to church with them, got left at home. We were late, so, yeah. Umm, the girl I was supposed to work on a dance with during service didn't show. And, my microphone died in the middle of worship. I was about ready to curl up in the fetal position and die. But, of course, that wouldn't've been okay.
'Cause after service was all-day dance practice!!! Hahahahahahahaha. Ha.
Things are considerably easier now. God's in His heaven, and that is for sure. Mom and I had a long sit-down talk with a lady from church who's counsel we both value. We were hoping merely for advice, and our Lord saw fit to call her to take over the management of the dance ministry. So now me and Joy's only jobs are song-picking (and getting it approved by this lady), choreographing the song (and getting the motions approved by the same), and teaching it to the girls.
So, though we were all sore after seven hours straight dancing, but other than that, it was a brilliant practice, and all is going well, and pointing towards our next dance, the Christmas eve presentation of our rendition of Mary Did You Know, going just fine. Yayy!! :)
But for now, I had best be going. The hour grows late, and there really are other things I need to be accomplishing.
Ttfn! :)

November...

Sooo, hi. How are you?
It's...umm...been a while. Huh? What have I missed?
I've been kind of hiding from my blog in the hopes that it might help me finish my novel. November. NaNoWriMo. Blah. 43,406 words, give or take. I'm almost there!
But I've decided it was time, high time, to do a long-overdue blog post.
And now that I've gotten this far, I can't remember why on earth I needed to post. So, what's happened since my last post? Kind of everything, but I guess I'll...here we go. Wow. That's a lot.
~Seventies Night with the youth group. Put on a ridiculous costume to go hang out with my friends. We ate "seventies" junk food, played seventies trivia, watched an incredibly corny seventies "thriller" (read: Left Behind, plus a lame factor of ∞)
~Tori's birthday party. More junk food, hanging out, "dancing" (thank heavens it was just line dancing. I can handle the Cha Cha Slide and the Cupid Shuffle) with my dorky homeschool friends and some of Tori's not-dorky public school friends. It was something of a learning experience. Me and Joy were practically conducting research the whole time, remarking on the differences between home- and public- schoolers. It was funny. :)
~Church Harvest Festival. Painting hundreds upon hundreds (or at least it felt that way) of faces.
~NaNoWriMo. Already been covered.
~Taylor Swift's new cd came out. Which, kind of caused more of a stir than it should've. I'm a little disappointed, seeing as how she's not 100% "safe" for my little sister anymore. Heard Better than Revenge? :/
~Game Night. Basically, girls night out, plus our youth pastor. It was a crazy insane blast, but then, what do you expect with my crew?
~Corinne's birthday party. Pizza, caramel apples, a movie, popcorn, cake, ice cream, music, games, and an epicly fun bonfire. :)
~Family bonfire.
~Thanksgiving. Hope you had a good one!
And I think that's it. Now, back to the novel. TTFN!!! :)

Grrrrrr.....

Do you wanna know what's on my mind right now? Do you reallyyyyy? No, you don't. But I'm going to tell you anyway.

College. C-O-L-L-E-G-E. S-T-U-P-I-D. I might have logged more hours researching colleges, scholarships, majors, minors, financial aid, and location location locaaaation than I will in class time. Assuming I ever make it that far.

Woo. Hoo.

Howdy, pardner. How are ya?

So, I'm sitting here. My three favorite little pk's are here, along with their father. So, for me, it's a choice between hang out w/the adults (not gonna happen), hang out with the kids (lol), or hide. Take a wild guess which one I pick.

Aaaaand they found me. Continue staring at the screen, pretend they're not here, maybe they won't notice me. Lol.

Once I settle down to the computer, I have two choices. Either bug you again, which I've been doing entirely too often here lately (oh, and you, my readers, aren't the only ones I've been bugging. There's a funny story there, but hang on); or read the good-gravy-awful inkpop story I've promised to read. Judging by the fact that I'm writing, you can probably guess what I picked.

Anyway, that funny story. You know how you can set up sms with your Blogger account and post on the go? Pretty neat little feature. I just synced my phone to my account yesterday, and went to send my first post. Well. Apparently, some poor soul has a phone number that's one digit off from the Blogger number. Poor thing got my blog post in a text message. Didn't I feel like an idiot when, an hour later, I get a bewildered 'Who is this?' in reply. So I explained it, and they were gracious in not being annoyed. Maybe it happens all the time.

But, dear sir or madam, if you're reading this, I really, really do apologize.

I Like Speeching Words...

You wanna know two things that kinda suck? Strep throat and rain. Strep throat=throat pain, head pain, drop in motivation and appetite, and a tendency to get dizzy upon standing up. Okay, that last one might just be me. Rain=Not being able to go anywhere, backyard being under six inches of water (I've always wanted waterfront property...), car wrecks, and the like.

You know, my best friend from first and second grade texted me this morning and told me I should meet her at room 103. Pretty cool, right? One problem. We don't go to the same school. Heck, I don't even "go" to school. I think she got me confused with somebody else...

But anyway, rain and strep separately, are moopy. BUT! Rain and strep throat together, mean curling up on the couch with a blanket and something warm to drink, and a book/notebook/movie/etc. And, getting out of school. And, being able to use the computer in the morning, usually a no-no. Ohhh, yeah. I'm miserable.

I've got a bike, you can ride it if you like...little brothers listening to Pink Floyd...huzzah.

So, ever heard of FaithFreaks? It's a myspace/facebook wannabe for "Christians," that Joy's mum insisted she (Joy) and I make profiles on upwards of a year ago. Well, I decided seconds after creating the profile that I was never gonna use the site again. It's what some people would define as 'stupid.' But, just the other day, on a whim, I checked the site. After dealing with oodles of friend requests from people I've never heard of with friend lists of upwards of two-thousand, I poked around the site. Word vomited on the 'about me' section. I believe the words 'hippy' and 'Fox Mulder' showed up. Then I discovered, le gasp, a blog section. Decided to do a 'nonexistent' blog post. Nonexistent, in that, since I was never going to check the page again, and I didn't know ANYBODY on the site, it didn't matter what on earth I said. It was kinda fun. I might do a couple more.

Oh, and about aforementioned Mr. Mulder (the younger, and alive), I think he has officially earned the title 'Cool.' For a fairly good idea of what I mean, please see my earlier post on Matt Smith. What is it with my family and space aliens? My parents are always getting us hooked on strange shows about space aliens.

And now, friends, I had prooooobably better be going. Aux revoir! ;)