the luckiest girl in the world

I might sound a little depressed the next few weeks. Or maybe I already have been sounding that way. There is something scary about leaving a job (or in my case, internship) and have nothing in place for "next" in your life. It also seems a little out of the ordinary, because the most popular question I get when I tell people about the end of the internship is, "What's next?"

What indeed.

This weekend was a beautiful time home, if not a little stressful. Moving back anywhere is difficult; moving back into an established home is even more so. There is something that is comforting about going to the kitchen and knowing exactly where everything is, knowing that it has been that way for the bast 20 some years of my life. Comfort in the little things.
And when I really need a break I can now drive 15 minutes down the road and hang out with the love of my life, Brooks. He is my friend's 8-month old and I love him to pieces. I was there visiting this weekend and, after picking him up from his nap, said to him, "Oh I could just take you home with me!" I was also telling him about the surprise birthday party we were having for my sister and told him he could be my date. He was just babbling happily, like babies do, and out of the blue his mom says, "Take him!"
I think my mouth hit the floor. "Don't tease me!" I said to her. I began feeling this consuming joy at the thought of spending the afternoon/evening with this little bundle of cuteness. After thoroughly convincing me she wasn't kidding and after getting the appropriate approval, his bag was packed, his car seat base placed securely in my car and we were off! I couldn't believe my good fortune! I sat with him in the back of my parent's car on the way to the party and couldn't stop staring at him. He was quite the hit of the party and everybody got a chance to play with him. After a relaxing tubby, he was bundled in his pajamas, said goodbye to everyone...and promptly fell asleep 2 seconds after he was strapped in his car seat.
I loved spending time with my Little Man! And if me being unemployed for the next few weeks (... I hope... ) means I get to spend more time with him? I guess I'm okay with that.

Welcom to the Bat Cave II: Night Battle

After the drama that was my Friday, I was overjoyed to head home for the weekend. I came home to a house full of kids (well, only the two) and got a HUGE hug from a newly 5 year old little girl. We also had the same earrings on, which tickled her to no end. I got to snuggled my Little Man and suddenly, all was right with the world. I had movie night with my friend; we FINALLY got around to seeing "Voyage of the Dawn Treader" together. I fell asleep through some of it, but I think I was forgiven.
Saturday was a busy day around-the-house day. Laundry, some TV time (MI-5 is my new favourite), shopping trip with mom and a birthday party for Miss 5 Year Old.
Sunday was more eventful than I would have wanted. Minor car repairs to Stella needed to happen. My dad is the superhero of the weekend for calming me down and helping me fix her. (He did a lot of the work, but if it needs to be fixed again, I can totally do it.) The night ended with a beautiful baptism at church. Y'all know how much I love days that end in baptism.
Monday was busy. Breakfast at my friend's house, a trip to see my grandparents, and dinner with the family--all of the family. Leaving to head back to town was hard, harder than I thought. The plan was to get on the road, make it home, get to bed early and head into work on my last day early & refreshed.

Monday night did not go according to plan.

I got back into town around 10pm with every intention of showering the day off and heading to bed before 10.30pm.

That did not happen.

I was still kind of paranoid about the bat that was in my apartment on Friday. Mostly because we (me and the Game Commission guy, Kevin) couldn't find it. I was cool if the thing turned up dead when I got home from the weekend, but still wasn't really looking forward to dealing with a dead bat first thing when I walked in the door. As I'm bringing my bags back into the apartment, I slowly open the bathroom door (where we had trapped it) and took a look around. I didn't see it so I left the door to the bathroom open. I sat at the table to take care of some paper work and while I'm there, minding my own business, I feel this presence fly into the room and out of it again. "Stop it!" I told myself. "You are just freaking out. Maybe it's just a stink bug." Why I always think it's a stink bug, I have no idea. I waited, not daring to look up, and then went about my business. When it happened again, I started freaking out a little. A grabbed my phone and saw in the reflection on the screen that, yes indeed, that dang bat was still flying around my apartment.

I called Game Commission, but they were closed and no officers were on duty. Thanks guys.

I called my mom. She told me to call the family that I babysit and ask to crash on their couch. As much as I felt strange asking to do that, I did not want to have to deal with the bat that night. So I called and the dad, David, answered the phone. I explained the situation to him and asked for some sympathy. His wife has started feeling achy, (yikes!) so he was hesitant about letting me come over, but he did offer to help. He gave some suggestions (open doors and windows) and told me to call when I had it taken care of.

After opening some windows, I went into my bathroom armed with a broom and fry pan. I did take a moment to snap a picture of this bugger. He must have gotten bigger over the weekend because I did NOT remember him being that big. Anyway, the closer I got to it (perched on the sash on the bathroom window), the more I thought, "Oh my word--this broom is NOT long enough! If I get anywhere close to brushing it down or if I actually do, it might land right on my head!" Now it might not have been that bad, but when a bat has been in your bathrobe, any contact or thought of more contact with the creatures makes ya a little crazy about NOT having them anywhere near your skin. So the chicken in me just bumps the blinds with the broom, causing the bat to fly out into the dinning room and perch on the sash of one of the bay windows...right next to the OPEN window. Why he didn't fly out is still a mystery to me. Miss Chicken nudged the blinds with the broom again to help him "find" the open window. She also took a swing at him with the broom when he got a little to close to her. (She might have nicked him. He might have sorta run into the fridge...)

In all of this confusion, the bat ends up on my table, spread eagle. Not moving. Did I get it? I didn't think I hit it that hard. I watch it a few moments and it doesn't move. Just to be safe, I put the fry pan over it and weigh it down with a few dozen mugs. I was thinking about just leaving it there until morning when David called. He laughed when I told him I had it trapped under the fry pan. He laughed when I told him I was just going to leave it until the morning. He asked if i wanted him to come over and help me get it out of the apartment. I said yes, if you don't mind too much and thank you.

He was over in a few minutes and we started making a plan. We both had that nervous laugh of trying to make light of the situation but at the same time being freaked about dealing with a bat in close quarters. David slipped some cardboard under the pan and we took it outside. (We? Who am I kidding? David. I stood there with a broom "just in case" the bugger got out from under the pan. I also opened and closed doors on the way out. David actually held the cardboard and the pan with the bat.) David kind of tossed the whole mess onto a patch of grass and we both waited to see what the bat would do. When nothing happened, David nudged the bat with the broom and after a few failed attempts, the bat hopped around and flew off into the night.

David and I were then able to relax and proceeded to exchanged bat stories. The frying pan ended up in the trash (sorry, Sonya) and after thanking David profusely, went in to bed.

I'm still super jumpy. Birds now freak me out. The fan in my room last night rustled my sheets in such a way that made me jump up and turn a light on, just to make sure it wasn't a bat. I've had enough of this "nature" stuff. I won't even tell you about the spider who was a cousin to Shelob that was in my tub yesterday morning. ::Shudder::

Here's hoping it's the last bat I will see. Ever.

Or, at least for the next few weeks...

See? Big bat. I can hardly even look at this picture...It freaks me out!

Welcome to the Bat Cave

Today is my second to last day of work.
I was excited to get to work today. I have things I want to finish, people I want to see. Basically, I have a life.
But seeing as how this is me, things did not go according to plan.
It starts with last night - a babysitting gig. All in all, a most delightful way to spend my evening. We read books, played Go-Fish, snuggled and laughed a lot. (This 5 year old understands sarcasm more than most adults. When asked how school was, he didn't respond. I said, "Did you even go today??" His response? "No, I was sick. Cough Cough." I mean really? How many 5 year old's do YOU know that can think that quickly on their feet and then laugh because he knows he was joking??? Priceless!)
I didn't get home so late, but it had been a long day with some tearful goodbye's. We had a retirement party and I was on the set up/tear down committee and, well, it was just a long day. I fell asleep drinking tea last night. That's how tired I was.
So I wake up, early, before my alarm (not to mention the 2 AM wake-up from the storm last night), get a shower and start my day. In between the getting out of the shower in a towel, putting a robe on and getting ready, I noticed a scratchy something on my back. Going through the list of things it might be in my head (as I knew there were no tags on my towel or even in my robe) I settled on the disgusting idea that it might be a stink bug. Ew. I loose the robe and grab a mirror to check my back. No stink bug. I pick up my robe to shake it out so I can flush it. No stink bug. What in the world--
BAT!
Yes, ladies and gents, there was a bat in my robe. AGAINST MY SKIN!
I screamed like a little girl, but only for a little. I was so tired, emotionally & physically, that I just didn't have it in me. After many phone calls, thankful prayers that ALL of my clothes weren't in the bathroom and a quick covert op into the bathroom to retrieve my contacts so I could see, I went to the hospital to make sure there wasn't a puncture or scratch on my back.
Thankfully the doc said it looked good and that I would be fine. (The alternative was no less than 6 shots TODAY with many follow up shots in the next 2-14 days. Double Ew.)
Currently, I'm in my kitchen gathering up the courage to go back in my bathroom to finish getting ready. To everyone who saw me this morning without make up, hair done or (sorry!) teeth brushed, I am sorry.
Happy second to last day of work to me...

Gratitude

This week is proving to be a difficult one. Not simply physically demanding (it is VERY hard to go to work when the sun is out, you know it's going to be a beautiful day AND you have to spend it all indoors) but emotionally as well.
It started with graduation this past Sunday. As I listened to their names be called and watched "my graduates" walk across the stage to receive their diplomas, I was filled with a strange sense of pride. They were students I knew, I had talked with about school, both undergrad and graduate level. Study abroad, travel. Books and assignments. The value of starting a paper on time, understanding how a paper can be "basically done" days before it is due and the familiarity of starting a paper the night before the due date. I had hugged these students, cried with them, encouraged them, listened to them rant and blow off steam. These were my students and I was proud of them.
I looked over the crowd after the ceremony and realized that I could have helped some of them, was sure I helped some of them pass senior year. The idea struck me as odd and strange. For a moment, they all felt like mine. But as I continued to consider this thought, I knew they wouldn't see it that way. I was simply the librarian (ok, intern) who helped them get started, find a book, do the research, fix citations. The little things that got them their A. But you know? I don't mind. Not one bit.
Being at that graduation reminded me so much of my own. I didn't mention much on this blog last year about it--it was such a blur! It was interesting to see how similar and dissimilar they were. For one, Gettysburg holds graduation outside - rain or shine. I like that. Graduation happens on the green between Musselman Library and Pennsylvania Hall. The best seats are the cheap seats: sitting or standing on the steps of the library. One more reason to love Musselman! Another tradition they have is something they call the Stole of Gratitude. It is a simple blue stole with "Class of 2011" printed on it and all the graduates wear one for the ceremony. One of the last things they are charged with before being dismissed is to carry on the tradition of the college by gifting their stole to the person --faculty, staff, parent, friend, mentor -- who inspired them, supported them, loved them, encouraged them, and pushed them to do their best at Gettysburg College. This small token spoke to my heart (and reminds me a little of foot washing. Anyone else??). It whispered to me, "Who would you give your stole of gratitude to?" And honestly? There isn't one person I could give it to without offending many. Names and faces come to mind; where one springs up, three take its place. I was astonished when I realized just how many people it takes to keep me encouraged, to keep me sane.
Astonished and humbled.

Broken Umbrellas, Spilled Coffee, Blind Spots - and a little hope

Today was better than yesterday. And for that I am thankful.
Yesterday started with a broken umbrella, spilled coffee, and, well -- let's just say a failure to comprehend labels on my clothing. Yeah. Good day.
This morning, I stuck my mascara brush in my eye, resulting in a big black blob on my contact lens. Not a brilliant thing to do, but truly a much better boo-boo for my morning than yesterday.
But back to the problem of not being able to see out of one eye. What do I do? All of of the rest of my eye make up was already applied and removing the contact to clean it, well that would just ruin that work! I tried to cry, attempted to put eye drops in and eventually got all the mascara out of my eye ball. Phew. I will be so glad to get this contact out and cleaned properly tonight!
I stumbled on something today from The Village Church. Before you run away, assuming I will once again be singing the praises of Matt Chandler, this isn't about him. (But he DID just finish up a sermon series on Habakkuk that is AWESOME and there is a short Q&A video he did here. Oops. I guess that was...well, never mind.)
I found this video testimony from a guy called Nick Stevens.
(One of these days, I will learn how to embed a video. Today is not that day.)
I don't know Nick. He doesn't know me. But it seems we are close to the same part of the path of Christian living. Here is something he says at the end of the video that spoke to my heart today.

Not really knowing whats ahead of me. Not knowing what God has in store. And even some days, just not feeling his presence in my day to day life. But I am thankful for ... the right understanding of God so I can press into Him in times where, even tomorrow, I'm not sure what's next, or even what's in store.

~ Nick Stevens

Maybe this will bless you. Maybe it won't. But for me, knowing that another believer miles away is struggling with this but has found a way to, as Matt says at The Village, "press into God" even on the days of doubt? It gives me hope.

Finals Week/ Final Weeks

We are in Finals Week here at the college. They run a Sunday to Saturday schedule which really confuses me, but anyway, here we are. The last week or so has been total madness in the library. Every desk is taken, every computer desk full. The printer is constantly pumping out papers, last minute research and, probably, summer vacation plans. Laptops and cell phones are plugged into every available outlet, and sometimes even the unavailable ones. (The photocopier is usually the thing that gets unplugged. Poor old dinosaur.) Piles of books and paper everywhere. It's a madhouse.

As busy as the library is, the campus has been pretty quiet. With the warm weather, people have been out of doors soaking up the sunshine, laughing, ignoring the work they needed to do. But this week, everyone is in study mode. Nose to the grindstone and all that.

And for some reason, I've been feeling sentimental. Maybe some of it is remembering that a year ago, I graduated. (I still have trouble believing I did it. And that I gave a speech to a bazillion people, too.) I've been trying to chat with all the student workers I've gotten to know over the past year. I find it hard to believe (even about myself) that I've made such friends over one year. There is J. who works in my office. She is a marathon runner and always has extraordinarily nice things to say about me. She can lift my spirits on a horrible day. E., J., M., and A. who all work in Interlibrary Loan. I've gone to dance recitals like a proud mama, harassed them like a sister, talked & giggled about boys like a girlfriend, checked up on their school work like teacher and just...sorta fell in love with them. I can't even finish--there are so many people I might not see again and it hurts to think of it.

And then I remember, I'm almost done too.

::gulp::

the thing about Christian living

The more I learn about this thing called Christian life, the more I think I have it all wrong, and have had it wrong for years. After being a Christian for 16 years, I think I thought I would have the basics down. Or, you know, not feel so fish-out-of-water-y most of the time. I'm not sure what I really thought it was all about. Probably about being perfect and shiny. A model Christian to show up & shame all the other lesser Christians out there (also, ask about my humility). All of that sounds like it is still based on a 6 or 7 year-old child's understanding of Jesus.

But yesterday, as I prayed and talked with a close friend, I had the smallest thought maybe I had it wrong. There I was again, struggling with the same fear and doubt of the future. The unsettling uncertainty of what life brings, and "Can't God just give me a hint as to what is next? Just a tiny glimmer of things to come?" My friend looked at me and smiled. She didn't scold me for not trusting or tell me to "just have faith." She looked me in the eye and said, "Has He ever let you down in the past? Hasn't He always provided for you?" Through my tears I sheepishly said that Yes, He always had provided. "It's that step of faith," she continued, "that He asks you to take. You don't have to have all the details figured out. You don't even have to know what direction to step in. Just step out in faith. He will take care of the rest. He owns cattle on a thousand hills, right?" (This is her favorite thing to point out to me and I love it. She prayed this for me a lot when I was trying to work all my England plans out. She's prayed this prayer a lot for herself and her family, too.) Again, I agreed with her and remembered the times God has provided for me financially. Finally, she reminded me of the "eleventh hour God" that He sometimes chooses to be to teach us faith and dependence. And, again, I knew this to be true. She didn't tell me anything I hadn't heard before, but it was everything I needed to hear again to remind me of God's faithfulness.

After intense moments of doubt like this, I usually feel like I've let God down by not trusting Him enough. This yesterday? Yesterday I felt encouraged. And then I realized that maybe it's not about getting it right the first time (or second or third). Maybe it's not about being perfect or shiny. Maybe it's about knowing where to go, knowing who to talk to (and who to listen to) and listening to instructions over and over again until it sinks in.