33 Weeks

I came to the realization that I only have 33 weeks left as a student.

That is, in 33 weeks, I'll be all on my own. For only 33 more weeks will it be okay for me not to have a job or a husband. After that, it's all over. I'll have to get one of the two. :)

As of now, I will be jobless, homeless, foodless, and directionless in just 232 days. This puts a whole new twist on how I think of my life. As I enjoyed my canned tuna for dinner, I began to think about the fact that I'm not always going to have money for things like food if I don't have a job.

I'm hoping that's not really how it will work. Maybe the parents will let me live with them or help me out with food. Hopefully they won't let me starve. But really and truly, hopefully I'll get a job!

I was looking at the Fall job fair participants today and was completely overwhelmed with qualifications and resumes... and on and on and on. How in the world am I going to ever get a job?

Being a Human Resources major doesn't help anything either, because we work on problems like: to hire 60 sales people, you'll need 1747 applicants to apply in order to narrow it down and get the candidate you want. That is, the company would need about 32 applicants in order to hire one person, and that's just a regular sales associate position. I'm not sure if I'm talking HR jargon or not, but what I'm saying is that it's pretty darn hard to get a good job.

At job fairs, recruiters talk to hundreds of students. They might offer 30 interviews, and then narrow those interviews down to five people, then down to one or two job offers.

My human resources major might actually be hurting me because I know way too much about recruiting. I'm already nervous about the job fair that is over a week away. Oh, we also study the unemplyoment statistics. Those are pretty darn high as well. I have a higher chance of being unemployed than being employed.

Things are looking pretty grim for my near future.

help! i only have 33 weeks!

(I chose this picture to bring memories of happy times)

Looking Forward to Fall!

We just have 3 more days until Fall 2010!

I have never said that Fall is my favorite time of the year because I hate that it means that Winter is on its way. But, winter signs aside, Fall is my favorite! (At least right now it is. Once it's March, Spring will be my favorite. Winter will never be my favorite, though.)

Anyways, I was just thinking about a few things that I'm looking forward to:

Chocolate chip pumpkin cookies
                  They are super easy, 3 ingredients, stir, and bake!
Apple Cider

Lots of kinds of really good apples

Bon fires

Cardigan sweaters

Falling leaves

Crisp air, crunchy leaves, clear skies

Pumpkin spice lattes

Fall decorations

And lastly, soup!

How to get rid of a burn scar

If you read my blog at all, you know that I am accident prone--never serious accidents, but just awkward, embarrassing accidents. Roller skating accidents, accidently-too-short hair cuts, almost airplane accidents, you know what I mean. You might be surprised to know that I don't have many scars from my accidents.

But, this summer, I was unloading my suitcase from the back of the bus and received a nice burn on my leg from the tailpipe. It didn't hurt too bad for too long, and I was fine, but I'm left with an ugly scar on my leg.

Backstory--I have always been proud of my scarless legs. Never playing a sport in my life and always being too scared to take big risks, I haven't had too many chances to get scars. I have one scar on my left knee from when I was 4 playing at my dad's hardware store and falling on a gravel hill. Daddy had told me not to go up the gravel hill and I trekked on up anyways. I fell half way up (I've never been the most coordinated person). By the time I got down the hill, the blood was on my sock and it was unbelievably traumatizing. (I had to put a band aid on it, which was my idea of a nightmare as a child because I was terrified of anything medical related.) Maybe that was the day that I started never breaking rules that involved my safety. I still have the scar to look back on and always remember breaking Daddy's rules.

I had a cyst removed in 7th grade, but I went to a plastic surgeon (and got put to sleep because I was chicken) so that I didn't have a scar. It's on my back, so I'm actually not sure if I have a scar from that, but I don't think I do.

So anyways, back to the story. In May I burnt my leg, but I had no idea that I was going to have this 2 inch dark scar spot on my leg from it, or else I would have tried to figure out how to get rid of it. Now, 4 months later, it still looks the way it did 2 weeks after it happened. Bummer!

Last Friday I was straightening my hair with a flat iron, and somehow it burnt my arm. I have no idea how it happened, but I sure did feel it! The flat iron touched the skin on my arm where it's super tender, the part that never gets tan and is really soft. Needless to say, it bubbled up really fast and stung for a while, but I left for dinner without treating it. (I should have learned about that after my bee sting that still hurts because I didn't treat it with ice or anything. The stinger finally came out last week, two weeks after I got stung.)

For the burn--someone told me to put ice on it, someone told me to put butter on it, someone told me cold water, and someone said whatever I do, do not put ice on it. I never really did anything because I never figured out what to do. I'm still wondering what to do for it. I read something that says vitamin E oil doesn't work and that it's just a myth. I read something about silicon strips, and something saying to rub it with olive oil.

So, who knows? The internet has way too many contradicting answers to: how to get rid of a burn scar.

No one ever comments on my blog, but I'm open for suggestions via comment, email, facebook, or in person! I'll share with you if I get any feedback. I can't have 2 scars in one summer when I have only had one in twenty-one years.

The burn didn't even really hurt bad, it just looks nasty. It's brown and in a nice L shape with bubbles. I'm hoping I don't sound like a diva. I think I probably do, but this is a life-long-lasting issue I'm talking about.

I'm happy to be blogging again, y'all. I had a minor leave of absence because of back to school business. I really want to blog more regularly now! I have high hopes, so we will see. The Vols lost yesterday, but not too bad. It's been a fun weekend, and I'm excited about a not-too-busy week!

Go Vols!

The Tennessee Florida game is tomorrow! 

Go Vols!!!

College Professors

Just had to add to the last story, I told you that while I was riding in the police car, the class that I was supposed to be in was having a quiz. I got to class 20 minutes late and so after class, I told the professor what had happened. He told me to shoot him an email and that he would not count the quiz in my grade.

That evening, I wrote him a nice, punctuated email that I read three times before sending to check and make sure it sounded alright.

This is what I got in reply from him:

And that was all. No words, no signature, no nothing, just a picture.

It made me laugh out loud.

I just wonder where he got it from. Does he have that saved on his computer? Did he take the time to go on the internet and find a picture? 

He's funny. 

He is a marketing professor, and the last class that I had, he said something about a promotional sale around the time of the non-denominational winter festival. I don't know where he comes up with these things. 

The thumb is mostly better, still a little bruised. Who knew stings left bruises? Maybe I should have iced it sooner than 7 hours later. 

My First Ride in a Police Car

As of 2:08 pm today, I have one chubby thumb.

I was late to class because I thought it started at 2:40 for I don't know what reason, but I realized at 1:54 that class started at 2:10. I rushed to campus, found an excellent parking spot and began the trek to class. Sweaty, tired, and very oblivious, I crossed an intersection as soon as the walk light turned white.

It was all a blur, but I felt a bug on my thumb (random place) and I brushed it away. OUCH!!! There was a stinger in my hand. A very large one. Mind you, I was in the middle of a big intersection and had to keep walking. My eyes welled up with tears as soon as I got to the other side of the road and was not able to get the stinger out as it was still stinging me.

Right then, I looked up to see two policemen who were pulling someone over. By this time I was definitely crying, standing still on the sidewalk, and I couldn't get the dang stinger out of my thumb with just one hand. I didn't know anyone around and they all looked pretty busy because class was starting in 2 minutes.  The policeman asked me if I was okay. I must have looked pretty desperate. Crying, standing still, alone, in the middle of classes changing.

Pictures on the UTPD website. They are intense. The ones I saw were actually in a car though!

This is embarrassing, but I was practically bawling and told him about the stinger and asked if he could try to get it out. Without replying to me, he immediately told the other policeman to abort the citation and that they had to get me to the clinic. ....What?!? He didn't even try to get the stinger out himself. (That guy getting the ticket lucked out!)

He went and opened the back door to the POLICE CAR and told me to get in. In front of all of the people on the sidewalk, I put my backpack in the backseat and got in. He told the other policeman to hurry with his business, opened the window between the front and back so that I could get some air conditioner back there. He kind of fanned me as he explained that he knew I was probably hot. By the way, did you know that police cars have hard plastic seats and absolutely no leg room? I told him I was sorry for being a baby and that he really didn't have to do this, but he insisted that it looked like it hurt. I did have a stinger sticking in my thumb, so I guess it did look painful.

So anyways, he turns the lights on and does a little whoop whoop siren sound as he pulls a U-turn in the middle of traffic on across a 5 lane road. I was looking forward as I hoped that no one I knew would see me in the back of the car. He wasn't being discrete about it either. Lights, sirens, the whole 9 yards!

We talked about their job and about their busy week and the nice policeman told me about how he would much rather help me out than give someone a citation. Anyways, we arrived in front of the health clinic, he got out and opened my door. At first I thought he was being polite, and then I realized that I didn't even have a door handle inside that cage. If my thumb hadn't been in so much pain, I probably would have been claustrophobic.

Anyways, Geo came to the clinic and picked me up soon after and drove me to class. So sweet! I got to class 20 minutes late. The whole ordeal from getting my thumb stung in an intersection to the police car ride to walking back into class only took 22 minutes!  I went to class and learned that I had missed a quiz. I told the professor what had happened and he was nice enough to not count it against me.

I forgot to put ice or tobacco or whatever you do to stings to take the sting out. So, my thumb is currently 105 degrees, red, and swollen.

Moral to the story, be on the lookout for bees/wasps/hornets/whatever it was, in intersections on busy roads in the city. And be sure to cover up your thumbs! And if you don't want a ride in a police car, never ask a policeman for medical help. They clearly have no idea what to do.


On a more positive note, I got my hair cut today and it's nothing dramatic. So thankful!

Also, I never wrote about the Haiti trip. It was great and very rough. More to come later hopefully! I hit the ground running when I got home and this has been the first week that I've been able to breathe.

The Cross

I just wrote a short little paper on The Cross and I thought I'd share. It's something I've posted about on here before, but I've added some thoughts to it.

Isaiah 53 hits me really hard every time I read it. I changed the we’s to I’s and it really put it into perspective for me. Here are a couple of the verses.

“He was despised and rejected—a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. I turned my back on him and looked the other way. He was despised, and I did not care. Yet it was my weaknesses he carried;
it was my sorrows that weighed him down. But he was pierced for my rebellion,
crushed for my sins.
He was beaten so I could be whole.
He was whipped so I could be healed. I, like a sheep, have strayed away.
I have left God’s paths to follow my own.
Yet the Lord laid on him
the sins of us all. Unjustly condemned, he was led away. When he sees all that is accomplished by his anguish, he will be satisfied. And because of his experience, my righteous servant will make it possible for many to be counted righteous, for he will bear all their sins.”

Christ loves me so much that He went through all of this just for me. Yes, His death was horrible and beyond anything I can even fathom. But I often forget, he endured pain his entire life. It wasn't just one day. It was an entire lifetime. I go through small trials and get down. I get sick for a few months and think my life is ending. I have had times when I thought God didn't like me because someone gave me a terrible terrible haircut and I got my eyebrow skin waxed off in the same month. Or He must not like me because I have to live in a cute little house alone for an entire... summer. But, I mean, really?? God's own perfect Son went through these same things. Well He didn't have to get his eyebrows waxed every single month. But, His trials were much worse, to say the least.

Why in the world should I think that I wouldn't go through any trials if Christ, God's own son, the only perfect being to ever live, suffered more than I can imagine? Like, if I think that little bit of wax ripping off my skin is painful, how much worse would a big leather strip with sharp objects in it ripping off my back be? And that wouldn't even be for my benefit (thinner eyebrows). 

So many times, I look at things totally wrong. I know I don't understand what is going on-- what God’s plan is. He's teaching me to just trust Him. But it's so hard. It's so hard to see the big picture when I'm focusing on myself and my happiness. Then I realize--the thing that's wrong with all of my thinking is the I's. It's not about me. It's about Christ... and then me after Him. He has it all under control. He knows what He's doing in order to advance His Kingdom. I just have to trust Him. I can't worry about it simply because I can do nothing to help the situation. Bad things happen, but Christ went through much worse and He is there for me to rely on and for me to talk to about it. I know what I am striving for, and Christ will get me there in His perfect timing.

Verse 11 of that passage says, “When he sees all that is accomplished by his anguish, he will be satisfied. And because of his experience, my righteous servant will make it possible for many to be counted righteous, for he will bear all their sins.” What an awesome gift I have been given! I am counted righteous (that's a big deal!) because of Christ’s anguish and suffering on the Cross.

My prayer as I think about the Cross is that I wouldn’t forget this gift and how much it means to me. I am nothing of worth without the Cross. I hope that I will remember why I’m here—my life is not for me or my reputation or my enjoyment, but for Him and His glory.  I am overwhelmed by my Savior’s love for me. I almost can’t believe how much He suffered for me only because He loves me. I pray that I will be moved by His love each and every day to advance His kingdom.