The Prince Charles Conspiracy

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.-Robert Frost

In the interest of time, this will be another short one, but a blog nonetheless. Currently, the parental figures are planning the daily events in the great city of Chicago, meaning little will be accomplished because it's already 9:30 am. The events of this past week have only proved that every family has its own quirks and psychopath aquaintences. Last night we were greeted by the friendly neighborhood lunatic who is being plotted against by none other than Prince Charles. This is a completely believable story, however, seeing as Prince William has been pursuing me for the past few years. The only difference between her predicament and mine is that Charles is stealing her great works (musicals, new font types, etc.) and William demands that I marry him. I know you can imagine just how troublesome this is, paparazzi documenting my every move and being cornered by a handsome, rich young man daily, but there's so little I can do about it. At least I don't get my tires slashed three times a week and all those other unfortunate events in this poor neighbor's life.
Ah, well, time for another photo shoot for yet another British tabloid. For those of you wondering about the background of these glamorous shots, the enormous grey mouse likes to be called Chuck E. Chuck, as in Charles...wow, maybe this lady really is telling the truth.
Your Prospective British Royalty,
Anna

Anna Begins

Now that I have reached my destination at a place I'd rather not call home, I finally had the chance to attempt to be vain by incorporating personal pictures into my blog; unfortunately my computer doesn't like photos, so we'll have to wait about another month unless some strange miracle cures this strange computer. In place of this, however, I'd like to bring attention to perhaps the greatest song ever written. Yes, finally, a song with my name in it! "Anna Begins" by the Counting Crows:

My friend assures me "it's all or nothing"
I am not worried- I am not overly concerned
My friend implores me " for one time only,
make an exception." I am not not worried
Wrap her up in a package of lies
Send her off to a coconut island
I am not worried - I am not overly concerned
with the status of my emotions
"oh", She says, "you're changing."
But we're always changing
It does not bother me to say this isn't love
Because if you don't want to talk about it then it isn't love
and I guess I'm going to have to live with that
but, I'm sure there's something in a shade of gray
or something in between
and I can always change my name if that's what you mean
My friend assures me "it's all or nothing`
But I am not really worried
I am not overly concerned
You try to tell yourself the things you try tell yourself to make
yourself forget
to make yourself forget
I am not worried
"If it's love" she said, "then we're gonna have to think about the
consequences"
cause she can't stop shaking and I can't stop touching her and.....
This time when kindness falls like rain
it washes her away and Anna begins to change her mind
"these seconds when I'm shaking leave me shuddering
for days" she says.
And I'm not ready for this sort of thing
But I'm not gonna break
And I'm not going to worry about it anymore
I'm not gonna bend. And I'm not gonna break and
I'm not gonna worry about it anymore
It seems like I should say "as long as this is love..."
But it's not all that easy so maybe I should just
snap her up in a butterfly net-
Pin her down on a photograph album
I am not worried
I've done this sort of thing before
But then I start to think about the consequences
Because I don't get no sleep in a quiet room and...
The time when kindness falls like rain
it washes me away and Anna begins change my mind
And every time she sneezes I believe it's love
and oh lord.... I'm not ready for this sort of thing
She's talking in her sleep-it's keeping me awake
And Anna begins to toss and turn
And every word is nonsense but I understand and
oh lord. I'm not ready for this sort of thing
Her kindness bangs a gong
It's moving me along and Anna begins to fade away
It's chasing me away. She disappears, and oh lord I'm not ready for this sort of thing

Change is so intriguing yet incredibly terrifying for most; I myself find it rather exhilerating to experience new and unusual places, people, feelings, etc. The idea of reinventing oneself seems a bit extreme in that it provokes some sort of multiple personality disorder, but experimenting with one's personal boundaries aids in the discovery of one's unique characteristics and abilities. It's been suggested that I attempt to rebel against 'the norm' that could also be known as my parents, but I think that would be the wrong motive for any revolution in my life. Doing something for the sake of rebelling is almost less of a challenge than doing something merely to become a better (or at least more interesting) person.
And so, by the request of Michael, I've decided to read Kate Chopin's "The Awakening" as my family and I make our biannual mecca to Chicago, which will begin tomorrow afternoon and end late Saturday morning. All this travelling may drive me absolutely insane, it seems as though I'm in a state of perpetual motion. I do find it enjoyable, yet at this current moment the thought of sitting in a car for about six hours tomorrow seems dreadful.
Your lovely traveller on life's path,
Anna

Hey, Did You Hear...

For "He who would love life And see good days, Let him refrain his tongue from evil, And his lips from speaking deceit." 1Peter 3:10

In my opinion, people talk entirely too much. There are even those who repeat themselves to the same group within the exact same discussion; this is one of the worst annoyances ever. All this talk is the reason for all the rumors and gossip that spread like wildfire: the incessant need to talk is always hindered by the lack of topics for conversation. Since we inherently find interest in other people's lives, talk takes a dangerous direction when someone begins making assumptions. That reminds me of my favorite saying I first heard from an old German teacher, "When you assume, it makes an ass out of you and me." We would always giggle after her recitation of this, mainly because she was a sweet and fairly old lady saying the word "ass", but after actually listening to that you realize that it's so true. How much truth really comes out of simply assuming that your conclusions are true when you have not actually found any tangible evidence?
Imagine if scientists published all their hypotheses as facts; people would start believing that the world really is flat or that pigs really can fly. How absurd is that? It's probably worse than claiming to know something about a person when you really are not sure. It's just repulsing to hear rumor after rumor about various people, most of which are more than likely untrue. As interesting as these stories can be, they just disgust me because I'd rather not know that "these two people are together a lot, so they must like each other" or any other hearsay. All the ridiculous claims made by people are only good for ruining others' reputations. I realize this topic is more for juveniles who still cannot get past the gender barrier, but males and females can be friends with each other without dating. Wow, that's possibly more scandalous than anything you could ever come up with, isn't it? No, not really, it's just a fact.
Praying for the end of finals,
Anna

River Adventures

Ah, final exams, what could be better? Truthfully, I think I've had more fun this past week than I have any other week I've been attending school! All the freedom from having no classes or exams until this morning has stirred up feelings of ecstacy. Most of the stress has alleviated now that my classes are over and all that remains are the dreaded final exams. It's so relieving, however, to have time for spontaneous trips to the river or play ultimate frisbee or just be with friends you won't see until next year.


Texas weather being amazingly tropical for December, I spent both yesterday and today in the sun by two different rivers. Yesterday I left my room to study for my anatomy final, but was distracted by Derek and Collin. We ended up throwing a frisbee around and inviting more people to come join us, ultimately crushing my intentions of studying. Not that any extra time spent studying anatomy would have improved my knowledge on this incredibly difficult subject. Studying is highly overrated; I never studied, much less remembered the dates, for my tests in high school and managed to maintain an impressive GPA each year. I think everyone in college will agree with me when I say that some classes are just too demanding.
After my test this morning, another sense of euphoria set in. After experimenting with blogging add-ons and lunch with Michael, a trip to a different river followed. Corrie, Michael, and I went to Five Mile Dam, possibly the most interesting place in all of San Marcos. And with that, I think I should probably end because any attempt to recount that event would leave us all stunned.
As always, your procrastinator,
Anna

"I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint." Jeremiah 31:25

Carry Me Back To Ol' Virginie

In 1607 the first American settlers landed in Jamestown, VA; this marked the beginning of civilization as we know it. As a non-Virginia native, I admit that I know way too much about this one state than I ever expected to. The state, however, is arguably one of the most historically rich as well as the most beautiful. Autumn was my favorite season because leaves would adorn every tree in bright hues of yellow, orange, and red. Winter brought blankets of snow and ice-covered foliage, with the occasional snow storm. Spring and summer were equally awesome; flowers flooded each front yard and the grass would return to a brilliant green. Indeed, we did have seasons, unlike certain other places in which I've resided.

My first two years in Fairfax were spent finishing that torturous experience often referred to as elementary school. Being new and an unusual Californian, I never became close friends with anyone. This was the beginning of my shy streak because I was insecure without anyone to talk to. After graduating on to middle school, I could tell things were going to be good. Robinson Secondary School, home to the Rams and the most ghetto-wannabes, made my life so much happier. My first day in my first class (oh, how I loved math) I met an equally shy and awkward girl named Allison. This was the beginning of a potentially lifelong friendship, time permitting. I'd like to say that we were instantly best friends, but no, there was another girl named Audrey; however, she left a couple years later. Al and I became "siamese twins" even though we really don't look much alike. People ask if we're related, but the only explanation I can give is that we both have the same color hair. She's nearly six feet tall (wishing she was 5'4") while I'm in a 5'7" body (wishing I could be 6'); Al has a model-esque frame and I'm average, possibly stout, in comparison. Whereas I was the good student who made mostly A's, she was the girl who nearly failed seventh grade math. To most, it would appear that we had nothing in common, yet every time we're together it's like nothing has changed.


Six long and somewhat eventful years after that exciting first day, we graduated all too eagerly. It was a bittersweet moment for me because my dad had already left to begin work at a community college in a town near Dallas, TX. My last days in school were spent driving around with Allison, anticipating what was to come less than a week after graduation. We received our cap and gown, accepted our diplomas from the school that caused our incurable insanity, and partied until it was time for me to leave. Those last days were spent packing, both physically and emotionally. Boxes were being stuffed with everything we decided to take with us, and I was cramming in as much time as I could with my friends. I was so bitter about the move that I decided to attend James Madison University, two hours away from the home I knew.
I was very skeptical about the school, to be honest. First of all, about 80% of the students were emotionally high-strung girls who were all competing for the most attractive male they could find. I personally hated it for most of the first semester because I'm just not the stereotypical girly girl socialite. In November, I became friends with Ken, a ladiesman who was very easy-going and great to talk to. This friendship was possibly the only thing that kept me from becoming overwhelmed by all the estrogen and drama that consumed all of JMU. My second semester was unreal, and made me regret my decision to transfer. Over Christmas break I had made my final decision, that I was going to transfer to a school in Texas. Today, I don't know my reasoning, but I'm sure it was for the best.
It all began with a little chore called laundry. The whole year, I had been avoiding any personal attempts at washing my clothes. No, I was not the smelly kid you could tell was coming from a mile away, I simply visited people who were willing to do my laundry for me. In retrospect, this is probably the worst yet most ingenious thing I've ever done in my life. Up until mid-April, I had a great system going; then I came to the realization that I really needed to wash my clothes. So on a Friday night when nearly everyone had gone home, I took my huge load of clothes and put them into a washing machine. I was fairly nervous because this would by my first time doing laundry in my entire life. There happened to be a boy who was drying his clothes when I went down, so I told him about my anxiety. When I was folding my clothes later, I found two large socks that were obviously not mine; so I found this boy's room and returned his socks. This should be the end of the story, but no, we end up talking and he asks me to lunch. The last few weeks were confusing, to say the least. I had liked Ken, this boy Nabil was infatuated with me, and another boy (well, guy) named Jay also wanted to date me. The mere thought of something like this happening in a school that was mostly girls is preposterous! This JMU experience has left me struggling to figure out more about who I am because I had always convinced myself that I would be one of those girls to jump at the first chance of a dating relationship. I feel confident now that God will work everything out in His own time and I really shouldn't just date in attempt to fit in with the rest of society.
If only pictures could capture the beauty that lies in the great state of Virginia; it can only be experienced first-hand. Keeping in mind that I don't have any of my own photos, I'd like to share one last picture I found that's of the nation's capital. This is why my goal in life is to return to NOVA someday to live.
Your "Virginia is for lovers" fan,
Anna

SoCal Memories

Greetings from Los Angeles!
Last night was my first attempt at salsa dancing; it was exhilarating, but I'd rather leave the dance floor to all the more experienced (aka better) dancers! Had I taken lessons while I was living in California, I would probably have been more confident with my dancing skills (or lack thereof). We moved here so my father could get his PhD in something like linguistics, but I was young and to this day it probably makes no difference whether I know or not. LA is probably the most ghetto, polluted, yet interesting city in the world. Driving on the highway as a kid was fun because you got to see all the pretty colors on the side of the road. Yes, graffiti was rather attractive, especially at an age when I could neither comprehend the meaning of what a gang was nor understand the words I was reading. I imagine I asked my mother some innocent questions such as "mommy, what does s-h-i-t spell?"


I remember being at a bank one day, sniffing and prodding at the birds of paradise (shown above) and my mom telling me there was nothing in them. Out popped a butterfly, nearly flying up my nose, and I have not been the same since. Honestly, I should explain that I have had many 'close' encounters with insects in those days. One time at a birthday party I had a ladybug crawl down my dress, which was rather distressing. A year or two later, a spider did the same. I was left absolutely mortified by that particular experience. Now that my room is infested with ladybugs -we're so lucky- I'm happy to say that I conquered most of my fears.
Anyhow, my family and I moved twice while we were in LA. Since apartments were the most abundant housing option, we moved from one in the scary side of the city to a big town called South Pasadena. For those of you who watch the Rose Bowl, this is where all the action is. I participated in the creation of a couple floats in the three years we were in Cali and got to watch them on TV! I was also privileged to witness part of the Rodney King riot and a robbery while we still resided in the "bad part of town".
After moving to South Pas, my brother and I fell in love with a park called Garfield Park. Here we fought each other with huge bamboo sticks and supposedly met the editor of the Garfield comic strip. Ah, the many brushes we had with celebrity status. I really could have cared less, however, because I had my huge ladybug field and bamboo bushes. There were 'normal' park objects, like slides and swings, but running around was much more fun. Only if we got bored with beating each other over the head with bamboo twice as long as our bodies and wider than my two hands put together would we actually play on the playground. Now that I think of it, we were demented but imaginative children; we didn't even play on the playground equipment in the 'traditional' way. School in California is also nontraditional compared to the rest of the country. Of course, this was where I began school because my mom homeschooled me for kindergarten. I was the smartest kid in first grade, but probably the most popular as well. First grade marked a new era of liking boys and having about three best friends all at the same time.
California is well-known as the land of blonde bimbos, and I just have one response to that: "Dude, like duh! That's totally awesome and gnarly!" You pick up words really easily when you're young, so excuse my use of any of these ditzy words in the future. Most of my friends were blonde, most of the boys I liked were blond, and life was wonderful. We lived about an hour from a few beaches, which was awesome; we went to San Diego once, which was one of my best beach experiences ever. Natural disasters known as earthquakes occurred mostly while I was sleeping. I was only awake for the worst one after my mom woke me up, convinced that the sky was falling and we were all going to die. To this day, I ask her "why did you wake me up for the one that would make me the most afraid and none of the others?" It was really fun walking on shaky ground, I didn't understand what everyone was so scared of. Weather in Southern Cal was really great too, the coldest it ever got in LA was somewhere around 50; we did have four seasons though: summer, fall, summer, and summer. My sister was born in the 'fall' season of 1993. Not long after that, sibling rivalry was at its peak in my family. Since I was the oldest, I was blamed for everything that went wrong, as I'm sure all oldest siblings can identify with. Now that I'm out of the house I'm proud to say that I've passed that torch onto my brother, I feel redeemed for all the violence I was accused of on his behalf. He admits that it's worse to be the oldest, and I snicker. Indirect revenge is so sweet.
I have so many CA stories that I could recount if I had another few days, but next time we'll recap my nine years in NOVA (Northern Virginia, that is), including my exciting year at James Madison University (JMU, gooo dukes!)! I know, the suspense is killing me too.
Much love from your Cali girl,
Anna

The Windy City

Today, I'd like to begin a narration of my life. I had intended to write little biographies on other people, but now that Michael has introduced me to the world of flickr, I cannot resist my desire to create a little "picture book".
I was born in a town not five minutes from the great city of Chicago. As you can imagine, life in this midwestern locale is one of the best situations imaginable. I spent my first five years growing up in a nice home, attending an immaculate church full of people, and playing with all the neighbor kids or friends from church. One boy from church was my best friend, and I declared him my future husband at age four. Needless to say, I remained a girl in a boy's world. Coincidentally, most of the children I played with were all boys, so it was not an unusual transition when my brother was born. I was almost four years old at the time, and ecstatic about his arrival. Like many brother-sister relationships, however, there have been some rough spots; but while we lived in Chicago, Erik and I enjoyed running around together. I enjoyed playing dressup, and included him every time. If I had this pictures, you would get to see the torture I put him through (ballerina costume, clown nose, etc.), but this element of my life will be left to the imagination...for now.

In case any of you are wondering, the Cubs/White Sox issue is phenomenal. And if you couldn't tell by the colors, I'm a big Cubs fan. I know, they haven't won a World Series in some thousands of years, but it's all about the spirit of the team. Let's also not forget the Bulls and Michael Jordan! Out of all things I miss about Chicago though would have to be the snow. In less than two weeks I'll hopefully get to experience snow once more. Who doesn't love frozen water crystals that fall from the sky? I really shouldn't complain, I have a white Christmas almost every year because Chicago is the place to be for the holidays! Yes, Chicago is arguably the best city in America.


Anyhow, it's a bit late for me seeing as I have an ultimate frisbee game to play in about nine hours. And in the spirit of not studying for exams, I plan on not touching any textbooks for the entire day - possibly the entire week! Stay tuned for LA next!
Your cultured midwestern traveler,
Anna

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls...this next one may be a little too graphic for you,
As an attempt to distract my obsessive thoughts on snow, I would like to instead write about a truly great man of this century. Some call him the next James Dean, while others insist that he will be this generation's Nietsche, and still others compare him to the Greek god Adonis. Michael Warren Rice is truly an amazing character, indeed. For those of you reading who have not had the utter privilege of meeting him, Michael is by far the most impressive (dare I say, perfect) human to have walked the earth. When God created this ruggedly handsome being, He definitely broke the mold. The mere presence of him brings so much joy; his acknowledging and conversing with you, however, can make you weak in your knees.


Not only is he strikingly gorgeous and charming, Mr. Rice is a true intellectual genius. For even the most educated, including Leonardo Da Vinci and Albert Einstein, discussions with Michael can be mind-blowing. Take, for instance, a personal conversation about the two main male characters of "Felicity". Jessie, the beautiful female version of Michael, and I both believe that Noel is the more attractive of the two while Michael insists that we will eventually like Ben more. Ben is the outgoing, brooding blond who Felicity left Stanford to follow; he is also, according to Jessie, my male counterpart. Each Felicity night, conversation on the issue of which guy is more attractive is initiated. This is possibly the most intellectually stimulating argument I have ever had with someone. Now, for those of you who have doubts after reading this, I will seriously say that philisophical debates with Mr. Rice, mainly on the topic of existentialism, do leave you in awe of his intellect.
One of the most attractive attributes of Michael Rice, in my opinion, is his aversion to human beings of the male persuasion. This characteristic humors me because in this way we are mirror opposites. Whereas he dislikes Y chromosomes, I find comfort in them. His need to present himself in a cleanly manner at all times is somewhat of a denial of his masculinity, which is both admirable and amusing at the same time. If it were not for a recent misunderstanding between Grace and myself, I would currently say that I love Michael Rice; however, people might take this the wrong way, so I will end my vainglorious blog by attempting to express my feelings more properly. (Yes, Michael, I know you love the use of that word!) Michael Warren Rice, Mr. Ruggedly Handsome, I admire and respect you.
Your slightly exaggerating 'Chicagoan',
Anna

Greed and Christmas

Our generation is ruining society in a way no other has succeeded in doing. This is a very bold statement, but I write it nonetheless. We've made the world a greedier, more apprehensive place than it should ever be construed as. This morning I read an article suggesting that people in their thirties are more than likely single. Why, you ask? Because people are not willing to make a mistake, yet they are willing to live with and have children with people they are not fully committed to! What kind of crap is that? Being committed enough to raise children together, yet not sure enough that the relationship will last; this is why people aren't marrying anymore! This bothers me immensely, it's almost as enraging as the topic of abortion. Geez, just raise the kid, take responsibility for your stupid actions! Just because you did something wrong doesn't mean you have to kill an innocent life.
As Christmas approaches, greed becomes more prevalent. Americans' "wants" and "needs" are so interchangable. "I need another $10,ooo dress...I want this purse!" It's as if we haven't already accumulated enough useless objects from the past Christmases, as well as birthdays, anniversaries, and other miscellaneous excuses to give gifts. You'd think that we'd eventually run out of things to wish for, but production of new, supposedly better clothes, tools, computers, etc. continues to pique people's interests. Our survival really does not depend upon more efficient mechanical can-openers or television-radio-coolers.
Spend some time with your loved ones over the holidays, it's the best gift you could ever give them (plus it's better for the environment than those toys you'll be throwing away in a few months).
Your Christmas enthusiast,
Anna

Lost (not just and addicting TV show)

"If I'm a uterus here and my arms are the oviducts..." This is an analogy no one should ever use outside the realm of biology professors. Surprisingly, my current anatomy professor, Dr. Horne, is the first teacher I know of who has used his own body as a visualization of the menstrual cycle. To make things worse, he referred to it as the "ministral cycle". I am by no means comfortable when it comes to discussion on human reproduction, but today's lecture was possibly the most interesting of the entire semester. I recommend taking a course by this humorous old man if you ever get the chance, though you'd most likely have to be a health science major in order to benefit from any classes he teaches, which limits my success at recruitment.
Classes now seem extremely unimportant to me now, most likely because I am anticipating my Christmas break so much. Since today marks the first of December, I'd like to warn you that if you see me lost in thought in the next two weeks, it's more than likely that I'm thinking about either being home, Chicago, snow, or some combination of those. As much as I love the heat, snow is by far the most miraculous form of inclement weather. For any of you who have not experienced a good snow storm, which would be most of you native Texans, you are definitely missing out. I mean at least a foot of snow, not a half inch (one inch if you include the ice underneath); great Northern snow storms that would get southerners out of school for the rest of eternity due to the great shock value it would insue on their psyche. There's something deep inside me crying, "It's time for it to snow!" If you notice that I've stopped paying attention to you, just repeat "seventeen more days, you're almost there!" Just remember that this number will change tomorrow.
Moving from what one would normally consider "normal" leaves them a "stranger in a strange land". They are left outside their comfort zones; comfort knowing that it should snow in the winter, that summers should be hot and humid, for instance. As Christians, we are often left with a similar feeling that we are not where we should be, that there is another home for us. Psalm 119:19,"I am a stranger on earth; do not hide your commands from me." Why try to conform to the world? This is often tempting because people would much rather be comfortable and fit in than "special" or weird, but I for one would rather not stoop to the level of those many immoral people who walk the earth. Honestly, I hate fitting in with everyone else, normalcy is definitely overrated.
Today marks the last official bible study group meeting for those of us at Jackson and College Inn (as well as Marissa, both Amandas, Kim Estes...). Amanda Shelton will be graduating this month; she's going to be leaving us for a much more exciting future including missionary work and living in California. I will miss her very much, as she was the first person I met and engaged in meaningful conversation with at Cru at Texas State! I wish her good luck with all her future endeavors!
Your unusual and spastically distracted Northerner,
Anna