T-minus 993 Hours

I attempted to buy my plane ticket last night. I kept having an orange box pop up telling me I was doing stuff wrong, and after about the third time, my dad told me to stop so that I wasn't paying for the entire youth group to go to Paraguay. Oops. As far as I know, it didn't go through. The prices have gone down since the last time I checked. They went down about $100. This is a good thing.

I also got to talk to the missionary's wife last night. She's excited about me coming to Lambare, and we talked for about 45 minutes about what I do and do not need to pack. We also talked about my living arrangements. At this point, there are two possibilities. I will either be living in an apartment with a young couple who lived in NYC for a while, speak some English, and are expecting a baby in September, or I will be living with two girls down there. I will stay with the Birs for the first few days that I'm there. I'm supposed to email them my itinerary as soon as I get it, so that I'm not stranded at the airport in Asuncion. This would not be fun.

I'm flying Continental, I've decided, because they're cheaper (Thank you, Jesus) and because I get a free carry-on and free first suitcase, as well as a personal item in addition to my carry-on (laptop case, purse, etc.). The luggage gods have smiled upon me.

It has just started to hit that in about a month, I will have friends that will not speak English. My English friends will be in another hemisphere. I'm not going to have my multicolored, awesome bedding set. I'm not going to have my parents. And, as I was informed last night, my home will not have interwebz. Nooo! I can, of course, go to the church and use their internet, but still. I have a feeling keeping up with Grey's Anatomy is going to be a pain.

In 993 hours, I will be getting on a plane to Houston. Then, I will fly overnight to Argentina. In 42 days, I will be in Paraguay.

Dear God, help me.

A Minor Miracle

Maybe it's not a check made out for the rest of the money that I need, but I have found a better deal on airfare than I had previously assumed. Originally, the cost was going to be $1600 or $1700 to fly on Delta (yuck) and probably go through Brazil, not Argentina. Today, I was doing some random browsing and came across a deal that will allow me to go on Delta for about $1200 and Continental for about $1300. Both through Buenos Aires.

Maybe it's not something huge. But it's something that's a much needed boost for my faith for at least one more day.

I'm Ready To Get Out of This Place

I just looked at the school calendar, and I have twenty school days left in this awesome school. *gag* Nineteen if you don't count senior skip day. Which the counting of senior skip day would be a bit redundent, now, wouldn't it? Because it's not a school day if you aren't there. Is it? No.
The great thing is that my last week of school will be full of half days. I graduate from the career center on May 29. Then, a month from tomorrow, I graduate from here for good. Words cannot express how awesome that is.

However, at the same time, I'm willing time to stop. I have seven weeks left in the country. Maybe. I have seven weeks to get the money I need. I would be lying if I said that my faith wasn't taking a huge hit right now. I did what I was supposed to, now where is the provision? I'm ready to go there. I really am. After  I took the AP Exam yesterday, I felt like, "Okay, my Spanish education is complete. Can I please go do something with it?" But, at this point, if it isn't going to work out, I just wish I knew so that I could go find a job and get my license, to get money because I already missed the deadline to go to college this Fall. I must say that I'm not thrilled about that. I don't want to have given up a semester of college for nothing. The thought just irks me.

I know I'm supposed to have more faith than this. I know that I know what I'm supposed to do and God will provide and all of the other things that I get sick of people telling me because I hear it a million times and it's still not happening. I know it, already. This just isn't something that I can wait until the last minute to be fulfilled and I am getting very scared. I wish I knew what I was doing wrong.

Senior Snack, Lack of Commencing, and Other Miscellanious Assortment

I didn't get commencement speaker.

I didn't even get a recall, like six of the eighteen of the people. I pretended like I didn't care, but in all honesty, did not take that well at all. I was a little crushed, which I felt dumb for, because in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter. But I was. I'm better with it now, still semi-distraught, but much better than on Tuesday when I actually found out. That was no fun at all. Today, Mr.Tuel, the librarian and one of the judges for the contest, came up to me and said that he was, for what it was worth, very sorry that he didn't have better news about the commencement speech. This proceeded to make me feel all choked up again. Not good times.

I have one more grand decision to make towards high school. I now have to decide what my senior snack is going to be. What is the senior snack? Well, I'm glad you asked. As I have mentioned many times before, on Tuesdays and Thursdays there is great delicious goodness in the library workroom as Mrs.Fritz is a baking machine. She makes cakes, pies, cheesecakes, crisps, root beer floats, bean dip, cheese dip, various other mexican dishes, and today she made peanut butter brownies with chocolate ganache.

Oh. Dear. Lord.

Delish.

So, apparently, she only has three seniors working in the library this semester, me and two guys in the third period (I'm in second). So, she's going to make whatever we want for our last day as a senior. This is going to be tough.

I have not yet picked the teacher whom I will honor at commencement, but I now have it narrowed down to three. Good for me.

Two months from today, I will be in Paraguay. Two months from yesterday, I will get on the plane. In addition, it looks like I may have to pick cost effectiveness over enjoyment. I have always wanted to go to Buenos Aires, Argentina. I have been stoked about that for the past several months, because I would have a layover there. However, in order to have a layover there, and not in Sao Paolo,Brazil, it is about $100 extra. This $100 isn't a lot, but as I'm struggling for funds anyway, it may be a bigger deal than I thought. I'm not thrilled about this, but I have to do what I have to do. I currently have enough for my ticket, but once I get there, I won't be able to live or eat. Huzzah.

And in other news, a poll released today said the following: How would you grade President Barack Obama's performance thus far? The majority of respondents gave him either an F (71%) or an A+ (14%).(It's from here.) That's nice. And overwhelming.

Practicing and Preaching

There's a lot of teaching going on this week with me.

Let's work backwards so that my clever tie-in looks seamless, shall we?

Thursday I teach an actual lesson to my special ed kids. With a computer. God help me. That should be fun.

Yesterday, I gave my senior presentation over genetic screening. It went very well and everyone seemed to enjoy it. Maybe that's because they got to stare down Ethan Hawke on a big screen for ten minutes while watching Gattaca. That is pretty awesome. But, it went well, with lots of controversy and debate, leading to some pretty gruesome suggestions for what should be done. It was interesting, but I really hope that most of those guys never become genetic researchers. You don't even want to know.

Sunday was my first time teaching this week. It was a surprise and I had five minutes to plan a lesson. I wasn't sure exactly how long the lesson was supposed to go, so I finished way early. I had a lot of fun with it, and other than a visitor from school deciding to rip on me for my lesson being boring and my talking way too fast (for which Cerri proceeded to rip him a new one), people seemed to like it.

I must admit, however, that I feel very hypocritical after teaching that lesson. I was talking about people's plans versus God's plans and how God's plan is always going to work out how he wants it. I'm not really feeling as much faith as I was telling them to have, to be honest. Not as much at all.

Two months tomorrow is the day that I've been planning to leave for Paraguay. My faith in God in regards to that is, quite frankly, running very thin. I don't know what to do anymore. I barely have enough money for my plane ticket right now. I need to get at least $3500 to Foreign Missions before I go. $3500 in two months. And if I only raise that much, the likelihood of me being able to stay in Paraguay for that whole six months is very low. I think. I'm not sure. The donations are coming in very slowly, if at all. I sent out an ungodly number of letters this time around and got $120. At this point, even if I were to put all of my money that I have save with this money that I have raised, it still wouldn't be enough. I'll be very honest. I have my doubts about this. I'm trying to trust God, but at the same time, I'm getting irritated that after I've done everything he's said, I still don't have the resources to do what he told me to do.

I know I need to practice what I preached, but it's getting really tight.

Issues

I sent out about a third to a half of my second mailing today. I still have a stack of letters that need to go out, but don't have envelopes, signatures, or pledge forms. I'm trying to think of ways to make more money. Fundraiser-wise that is. It's really hard because right now the youth group is doing fundraisers for Youth Congress. That's not helping me all that much. People usually serve food after church or do bake sales. But I can't bake and don't even know where to start on serving food after church. I don't know who to ask for help, because I have a feeling that if I ask for help via youth group, I will get the following response-

"Well, you have to understand that we're raising money for our own thing right now and that people don't usually even show up for that. So, I don't think it will work."

Personally, I don't think it would work either. But it would be nice to have a starting point.

The hat selling does not go well. I would like to try and sell them on Easter Sunday at church, when everyone and their mother will be there, but I don't know if I'll be allowed to do so. I may also ask if something can be put in the bulletin about me still selling them. If I don't sell them, I may try to open an eBay store to sell them. Hopefully that would go better.

Things Of Note

I recommend reading this post by Mrs. Lemon. Because immaturity makes me chuckle, as does the comment that I left.

Is it bad that sometimes I make myself laugh?

---------------------------------------------------

Today, I realized that I am a moron.

I had a freak-out moment today. I'm already freaking out about my money, and then, when typing up another batch of fundraising letters to send out, I printed about twelve with the date January 24, 2009. From my first mailing. Oops.

I then had another freak-out moment when I couldn't find my account/project number to track my funds on the division's website.

I should probably look in obvious places.

Observe.

Do you note the little "Proj" at the bottom left corner? On the most obvious place on earth. The actual donation form.

That's a little dumb of me.

Weight Off of My Shoulders

I finally got a lot of things taken care of today. For about an hour this afternoon, I was rotating between calling Kent State and the Paraguayan Consulate in New York City. I'm trying to work around being out of the country when housing applications are due. The application for Spring 2010 was finally put up on the website, so that's filled out and applied for. The residential department says that they'll call me back within the next few days. The college situation is starting to shape up.

The situation with the consulate went much better this time around. I got the answers I needed and got an application. Apparently it only takes 24-48 hours to get a visa, which is a lot less complex than I thought it would be. I send an email to the Birs last night asking about some of the details that I will need for the application. I need to track down my ID, which I've lost, and my passport photos, and then I'll be able to get my visa.

I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't freaking out about my fundraising. I still don't even have enough for my plane ticket and I'm leaving in two months. I need $7250 and only have about $1300.  A plane ticket is $1800, plus the UPCI headquarters has to have half of my budget. I'm going to try to send another batch of fundraising letters to churches. I'm really starting to get scared about that.

So, on the note, don't forget the little fundraising button on the sidebar.

My presentation from the church is here , too.

Random, Unorganized Friday Thoughts

I think that sometimes in an average work week or school week, you have to get all the bad out at once and things then go back to normal. For example, Monday and Tuesday were very blah days; I was really tired, not motivated, but still the day wasn't that bad. Wednesday outright sucked. I mean just sucked beyond all reason. I rarely actually start crying in between classes- note I said actually start rather than feel like- but I did on Wednesday. It was horrible.

But after the crappiness that was Wednesday, things really calmed down. I haven't had a good day, per se, yet, but things have been calm. I got a new layout for the blog for those of you who say that red hurts your eyes. But my comments don't show up. I have emailed an expert in blog layoutage and hopefully will have the ability for you to send me nastygrams again shortly.

There are doughnuts in the library today. Two boxes. It's like torture trying to pick just one to be considerate of the bajillions of people who don't work in here, yet mooch. It's great fun. Of course, the moochers are teachers, and if I were a teacher and had to put up with myself, I would most likely mooch the occasional doughnut for sanity preservation purpose, as well. Why? Because I hate teaching anything above the first grade. I can't decide whether third graders or eighth graders are worse, though. Third graders have just really started to whine and complain and be sick of school, so it's really drawn out and annoying. Eighth graders have become proficient at the activity of whining, yet there is an end in sight for them to get out of this place, so they usually won't be so bad. Unless, of course, you have a repeat of my middle childhood placement, where you have children throwing other kids across the room into desks and walls. It's great fun, really. It's bad when half of the days that you're sitting in your placement you think, "Man, I really wish I was back at the low-income preschool getting peed on."

I really miss that placement. I loved that preschool.

Speaking of which, the poor teacher with whom I worked has to now work with a cheerleader from the teacher academy. I had begged to go back there, but it didn't work out so well. Poor Michelle. Poor kids. I found this out yesterday. But, apparently she has the morning class rather than the afternoon class that I had, so my kids will still be my kids. I think I am going to try to go back for the end of the year. Teacher academy gets out two weeks before my school. I think that would be too fun.

My commencement speech is still going nowhere. I'm stuck and threw out my old idea and am starting from scratch. It has to be done by April 15th for English, six copies have to go to the library by the 17th, and auditions are on the 20th. Along with all of that, I have a senior project to do by April 27th, because I was stupid and decided to go first because that would get it out of the way.

Idiot.

As if that were not enough, I also need to call the consulate, get my plane tickets(hopefully I'll have enough after my presentation on Sunday), and get my visa. In order to get my visa, I need to find out what my address is going to be when I'm in Paraguay. I have not gotten that far yet, needless to say. I'm feeling the pressure. I am leaving in less than three months. That is one of the most terrifying things on earth.

I haven't called Kent State about loopholes to the housing and application yet, either. Nobody has their Spring applications up yet. It's horribly frustrating.

Much like a diet, the second you decide something for sure, you immediately start questioning yourself. Ever since I thought, "Hey, I'm going to be a teacher!", I've been like, "Ummm....are you sure about that? You really, really, really like wedding gowns. Ooooohhh....Vera Wang...."That's always nice. I love self-doubt. It gives me the warm fuzzies.

In closing, how the flip biscuit did this happen? The two things aren't even related. Good grief.

Embassy Crisis

I tried calling the Paraguayan embassy this morning. It didn't go well at all. The lady who answered the phone was speaking in Spanish, and was extremely rude to me. I would have tried to speak in Spanish, but that probably would have been even more disastrous.

So, she started speaking in English. But was really rude again and told me that she couldn't help me with the visa information and to call the Bureau of Consular Affairs. I got no number or anything to call them with. So, I had just spent five minutes trying to get answers and in the end, I got absolutely nothing and was incredibly frustrated.

I emailed the missionary, pretty much just drawing out, "I don't have any idea what I'm doing and want to shoot myself, please help me now!" for three paragraphs. Thankfully, I got a quick response from the missionaries, telling me to calm down and that everything was okay. The embassy is apparently usually rude to Americans and I'm just supposed to take it with a grain of salt. I'm going to get my ninety day visa, and then they will take me to Argentina to renew my visa for another ninety days because I'll only be there for six months, so it's all going to work out alright.

I'm so glad I have understanding people to work with.

Reason #3456 That Growing Up Is Surreal

There are some things that just don't feel right about being a grown-up.

When did people in my age bracket start getting married? I can't imagine marrying myself off right now. Would I like a realtionship? Sure. But married? Now? No thanks.

I went on Facebook today and saw that a guy that I used to be really good friends with got married. I have no idea when he got married and only noticed it because someone left a comment with, "Whoa, when did you get married?" He's 19. Back when I was newly broken up with, I used to talk to this guy every night on AOL. He's a sweet guy and his new wife is extremely lucky. It's just weird thinking that this guy is married now and his wife is younger than me. He's a few months older than me.

In a couple of months, one of my other friends is getting married. Right after camp, right before I leave for Paraguay. Left and right, people my age or within a two or three year radius of me are getting married or into serious relationships. Why? When did I become old enough for this to happen?

For once, I'm really not harping on the idea that I'm an "old maid". I just baffled by the fact that I can now legally have the option to do this, should some unwitting male come along and be smitten by yours truly. Which I don't foresee in the immediate future.

My friends and I should be grown ups. I shouldn't being looking at their registries and talking about colors. I want to go back to the sandbox, please.

Shameless Advertising Plug

Okay, I'm going to do a shameless plug here. On March 28th, our church is having an Arts and Crafts Fair. There will be booths with people with all kinds of cool stuff to sell, and you should come check it out.

Here's the plug. First of all, there will be an Easter Basket auction, and the proceeds of this will go towards my trip to Paraguay, thanks to Sis.Potter's generosity. Also, the picture you see here is a hat that my grandma made. I will have at least eleven of these, and will either be selling or auctioning them off, as well. I have a bunch of different colors and there are both denim and silk hats. They are awesome. The picture doesn't do it justice.

So, if you can, please show up and buy something. Even if it's not for me. Or just show up and have fun.It's worth your while. I promise.

Seeking Guidance

I had a very long discussion with my (extremely confused) guidance counselor this afternoon regarding my whole Kent State issue.

A quick word about my counselor. The poor lady deserves a free ticket to heaven for what she's put up with for the past four years. I would pop in about once per week with something about college or a class or something and she would always find some way to fix it. She found a loophole to let me do the career center and the local college, she sorted out the situation with my stalker sophomore year, and I don't even want to talk about how many schedules she's rearranged for me because the class was too easy/hard/boring/tedious. I'm pretty sure that the rule that they started this year about schedule finalization after the first week of August has to do with me. It amazes me that after four years she hasn't seen me coming down the hallway, boarded up her office door, screaming, "Duck and cover! She's here! No! I rebuke thee!"

So, anyway, today I went down and there was about a ten-minute-wait to get into the office. This is not uncommon. Even kids who don't have Mrs.Earnest as their counselor go see her because she's that awesome, and the others....well, are not. So, after hanging with my freshman's mom, who now works in the office, for a few minutes, which caused me to get in trouble and have to sit down, I finally got into the office to whine about my latest problem.

The advice I received was to call KSU (again) and ask them if they could make an exception, allowing me to write in a date for the housing application (my big worry) that wasn't actually there. Also, to explain thoroughly that I was going to be out of the country, because apparently, a girl who went on an exchange program to India this year is getting more money because she's going out of the country. I was also told to try to keep e-mail correspondence with admissions because I can't exactly call them in Paraguay (that's a completely different issue all together. Another blog on that later.) So, hopefully, by next week, I will have this entire mess straightened out with the college and can focus on getting plane tickets.

Well, after I get money for them, that is. (Please direct your attention to the upper left hand corner. Particularly, the donate button. That's right. I'm begging for money. Deal with it.)

Oh Goody

And just as things were getting easier and looking up for me, I had to go and look up the Guarani language.

The idea of not knowning Guarani has freaked me out ever since I found out that Paraguay had two languages. But frequently I was comforted with "Oh, it's okay. I'm sure that it and Spanish are relatively similar.

Iñaña kuriju!

Which happens to mean "bad anaconda" because I can't find the Guarani word for, "What are you talking about, you stupid, idiotic, imbecile!?"

Guarani! Is! Nothing! Like! Spanish!

Commence with new panic attack.

What? You think I'm exaggerating? Look at this and tell me if this is remotely like Spanish.

I'm A Good Person

I have a big hole in my arm. Hurrah!

I gave blood today, apparently saving three lives in the process, supposing that I don't have AIDS, Hep, or Malaria. Then I just wasted a morning jabbing a needle in my left arm and then eating cookies.

What am I saying? Cookies are never a waste.

Neither is cake.

(That was for Dad. The rest of you probably don't get it, and I really don't care.)

This morning, I went up to my freshman-now-sophomore, Emily, and said, "I may not be in class today!"

"Why?"

So, I quote the blood drive slogan. "I'm giving the gift of life!"

"Errr....is this a roundabout way of telling me that you're pregnant."

Note to self: Write letter to Red Cross telling them to rethink blood drive slogan.

So, anyway. My appointment was set for 8:45, but they told us to be there 15 minutes early. Why is this? So that we could wait and freak out longer.

Rachel and I decided to do our good deed at the same time, so we signed up for the same time slot. After vigorous questioning such as-

"Do you have [disease I can't pronounce which melts your brain]?"

Nope.

"Are you a prostitute?"

Not that I know of....

"Do you have AIDS?"

I really hope not.

Also, the nice lady informed me that if I fly through Ciudad del Este (butchering the name in the process) on my way to Paraguay, I should be wary because it's a Malaria danger zone. 

Thank you, lady.

Rachel and I got out of there at around the same time, and were placed on the gurney things at about the same time at adjacent stations. This would have been nice, as we were in talking distance, but the music was blaring so I couldn't hear anything that far away.

It also struck me as ironic that they were blaring music in the library. Mr.Tuel looked about ready to have a coronary.

So, Rachel starts freaking out when they get ready to stick her, so she calls our Sr.Soc teacher, whom she's really close to, to come over and sit with her while they stick her. When they are getting ready to stick me, I feel a little queasy, and so the guy stops. I assure him that it's just nerves and that he should go ahead and just stick me. But no. He undoes the BP cuff and calls his supervisor.

"She's not pale, just nervous. Stick her."

See, I could have told you that? And you wouldn't have had to tack on those extra ten minutes to the hour and a half that I've been here.

So, he puts the iodine on my arm, and I think of one thing to tell him, which is not to tell me when he puts the needle in, because it will freak me out, which I am a little bit already. A girl from my Spanish class, Danielle, goes, "Rebecca, tell me about your Sr.Soc paper, and don't think about the needle." So she talked to me through the whole thing, even though she finished donating blood about two minutes into them draining my blood. It was really nice of her.

And I didn't pass out!

P.S. The needles are hugenormous.

Also, I have a cool lime green wrap bandaid. It adds to my outfit.

Even though we got stuck within seconds of each other, I got done with my donation about three minutes before Rachel. Because I have blood like the Flash and her's is wimpy. Anyway, I hung with her until she got done, and asked her how she was doing. "Great!", she says, marveling at the fact that she didn't pass out. And then she stands up. And immediately sits back down in the relaxation and snack corner. We ate some cookies and drank some Pepsi, and then Rachel, looking very pale, needed to go down the hall. The supervisor made sure that someone went with her, which was probably a good thing because the next time I saw her was coming in through the side door in a wheelchair being pushed by a nurse.

She apparently passed out on the way out of the restroom. So, they sat her back down, made her eat some chocolate, and she passed out again. After a few minutes, she insisted on going back to class, and the grudgingly let her, but only if someone went with her. We're in the same class, so I went. I went back and got her bookbag and stuff, which I'm pretty sure blew the "no-heavy-lifiting" rule out of the water, and then she went home, skipping out on her placement for the day, which is unfortunate as today is our last day in the placement. (See my tears? Really. I'm so sad to leave my middle schoolers....or something.) So, being the good friend that I am, I called our Teacher Academy teacher for her and dropped in on her mentor teacher to let them know that she wouldn't be in today.

As for me, I'm slightly woozy and was a little nauseous earlier, but overall, I'm okay. I have an audition at three o'clock for Pillow Talk and then a reception at Kent State for admitted students. Hooray!

And I didn't pass out.

In Which A Lot Of Snow Falls And I Try Not To Embezzle

There is a lot of snow. As you can see. The White Death has befallen us, and, as goes snow/natural disaster/weekend/any other day I don't have school tradition, I'm at Dawn's. Like, the second that they called the White Death, Dawn texted me and asked if I was coming over, as usual. I did. The picture was taken from my bedroom window this morning. The picture doesn't even do the white badness justice. The snowflakes are gargantuan and falling really fast. We're on a Level 2 Snow Advisory at the moment, and they, because Jesus loves me, cancelled my Business Law class tonight at COTC.

In addition to this beauty, you will be glad to know that now the interwebs believe that I will become an old maid. I got a special offer from Match.com in my email yesterday, titled "Your love may already be waiting". That was nice of them, especially when ramping up on my favorite holiday.

I'm so glad that I have their blessing to look. Because that is all that has been standing between me and the plethora of men that think that I am one hot babe. Allow me to take one big sigh of relief.

*sigh*

Thanks.

Anyway, as for the Paraguay update, as I'm sure you want, I sent out twenty-four letters to Ohio churches this weekend. They were very well versed if I do say so myself, and I'm really hoping that something will come of them. If not, that's okay. Well, not okay, but I'm sure that God will provide some other way. But after licking twenty-four envelopes, I would hope to get a few shekels. I'm doing a presentation at our church in March, and I'll show that clip about the school and tactfully beg for money, which seems to me like an oxymoron. I really do hate asking people money, you know, outside of my parents. And even with that, while I had a job, I tried not to. Someone asked me this weekend, after I put on Facebook that I had sent out my fundraising letters, if I was sending out individual requests, but to be honest, I really don't think I can justify doing that. If people come to me and tell me that they want to contribute, then that's one thing. If I do a wide fundraising thing, like to a whole church, I don't have a problem with that,either, because I'm not putting people on the spot, asking them specifically for money. Especially in this economy. I don't want to pressure people into giving me money by sending them an individual letter like the sample that Headquarters sent me. It just seemed tacky to me. Maybe I'm just touchy. Who knows. I really just don't want to resort to the individual donor thing.

Off of the soapbox.

I made a withdrawal from savings yesterday. A painful, painful withdrawal because I didn't want to cash the contribution check that I received from one of the churches, before I even sent out the letters. I'm not quite sure of the protocol for all of that yet, so I didn't want to cash it or put it in savings for the trip, spend it on my passport, and then find out I was supposed to do something else and it look like I was embezzling. I'm pretty sure that would effectively end my short stent as a missionary-wannabe. So, I pulled the money for my passport out of my savings from the dreadful summer. It was like watching an old friend leave.

Hopefully, this week I will get my passport pictures and the application in the mail. Then I can book my ticket to Argentina and Paraguay. And have a breakdown again because I've done something else that solidifies my leaving.

P.S. Much love to Mrs.Lemon for this.

Too Much Random Crap For A Title

I got my first contribution check yesterday in the mail. I was about ecstatic. We are officially on a roll. Woot! And the letters haven't even gone out yet, people! I still haven't printed them off. Darn it.

I have, however, printed off my passport application. That contribution check will be paying for that passport and visa, thankyouverymuch. Now all I need to do is go get a picture that doesn't make me look fat. Which may be a challenge.

Speaking of my fatness, I am now successfully in week two of working out. I've actually stuck to it. Although I really hate fitness videos. They're all skinny people. All perky. All wearing *shudder* pink. Ew. And on this video, there's only one guy and he's old. Really old. Also, a stick thin woman who "just had a baby", and a girl who the star of the show says is "modifying the routine for less intensity". What she's really saying is, "Dude, you're a wimp." Also, after two weeks of the thirty minute, two mile walk, they say we're ready for the three mile walk. Yeah. We so aren't. The two mile kills us.

I also filled out my very first tax return and I'm getting money back. Woohoo! Now the question is do I spend it on Spanish books or clothes? Either way, it's going towards something that is going with me to Paraguay. I'm thinking splitsies will work. But who knows, really?

I'm getting plenty of teaching practice this week. Tonight, I worked with Rachol and Erica in Junior Youth helping them do their first five books of the bible. We're going to try to get them to know them all in order. They were out of control! But we did have fun, for the most part. Tomorrow, I'm doing an icebreaker lesson in the eighth grade language arts class, which I rather hate, thanks. The teacher is cool, but once again, the kids drive me insane. I'm dreading tomorrow a little bit.

Pray, saints, pray!

And so it begins..

I am in full fundraising swing at the moment. I have a letter drawn up to send out, added a tacky give-me-money-please button to my sidebar (By the way, I would like it very much if you took note of that. Or not. Whatevs.)

During the foreign missions report last night, all three people that I hadn't told yet found out that I'm leaving because they announced it while talking about what's going on in Paraguay. I think I'm pretty locked-in now, even if I wasn't before. I also emailed my Uncle Mike last night, asking him if he would be guardian of my estate for my brother and sister in the will, so that I don't have to pick which one of the two that I like better. He said he would and wanted to know when I was leaving. It was at this point that I realized that I forgot to tell him. Oh, snap.

Aunt Julie won't answer her phone/ texts. She should. (That's right, Aunt Julie, YOU!)

I'm a little scared about what Sis.Potter's great idea for fundraising is. It could be anything. Seriously. Anything. I'm not so much scared as very, very curious and a little nervous.

And I now have nothing else I can presently do to work on AIM. It's driving me a little crazy.

Me and Gideon

36 Gideon said to God, "If you will save Israel by my hand as you have promised-

37 look, I will place a wool fleece on the threshing floor. If there is dew only on the fleece and all the ground is dry, then I will know that you will save Israel by my hand, as you said."

38 And that is what happened. Gideon rose early the next day; he squeezed the fleece and wrung out the dew—a bowlful of water.


39 Then Gideon said to God, "Do not be angry with me. Let me make just one more request. Allow me one more test with the fleece. This time make the fleece dry and the ground covered with dew."

40 That night God did so. Only the fleece was dry; all the ground was covered with dew.

Judges 6:36-40, NIV

I was talking to Dawn today, and she brought up the story of Gideon, saying that it was a lot like what has transpired with me over the past six months. I started talking about this decision back in August, but I have never really told what motivated me without a shadow of a doubt to go to Paraguay.

Thursday night of youth camp was the first time that I had ever really felt that God was actually speak to me about something. A few months before camp, I had learned about the Next Steps program, and even blogged that I was going to apply. The doors never opened, and to be honest, the newness of the feeling was wearing off and I knew that I wasn't called to do that. However, I had been spending my entire summer in a little coffee shack, serving nasty, ungrateful customers, to save up money for this trip, that now I wasn't even sure that I was supposed to take. Talk about confusion.

Thursday was all about calling. The preacher preached until we were on our faces sobbing. Rachol got her calling that night and, of course had to tell me. I was so glad for her, but despite my joy that she now knew what she was supposed to do, I was really upset that she had learned what she was supposed to do, and I was even more confused than before. My calling had been "taken away", and I didn't know what was going on, and now she gets a shiny new calling? Unfair, much?

Consecration that night. Again, he talks about calling, and I'm starting to get the tiniest bit bitter, maybe even a little bit discouraged. Why do you keep throwing this in my face, God? Yes, I get you're talking to me, but could you at least explain to me what the muffin you're trying to tell me? For the love of cheese, really!

So, I did something risky. Something Gideon-like. I had no idea who Gideon was, but I was channeling him, nonetheless.

"God," I said, "You told me that I was supposed to go overseas. I'm working my butt off at this stupid job that I hate. I need to start college applications in a few months. You need to tell me what on earth is going on. I need an answer within 48 hours, or I'm throwing this thing out the window and doing what I want to do."

Did I mention that you should never test God like that, unless you really, really want to know what he's thinking?

I get a text less than 24 hours later. I'm sitting in my dorm, getting ready to go to choir practice, and my dad texts me from the Hispanic Outreach Picnic that the church is doing. He's talking to the Goodrums and they want me in Paraguay, like, yesterday.

That was fast. But maybe it was a fluke.

I get home at about 1 AM on Friday night. I go and talk to my mom who basically relays the entire conversation to me. The missionaries pretty much flat out read my mail. All that my mom said was that I had been thinking about doing a missions trip.

"Oh, she should come to Paraguay, she would love it there. She could come to our school, and teach, and oh, she would just love it."

What they didn't know was that I had already enrolled in Teacher Academy. And that I taught Sunday School. And that, oh yeah, I was taking AP Spanish.

"Is your daughter here?"

"No, she's at camp."

[Insert lightbulb]

"Was she there Thursday night?"

Scary?

"God spoke to me Thursday night. I wouldn't know your daughter if I saw her, and I don't know if I prayed with her or not, but God told me that someone got a calling that night. God called her. You tell her that God told me that Paraguay needs her."

He wrote 'Paraguay needs YOU' on a slip of paper with their cell number and their e-mail, and said that they would be basing out of the campgrounds for the next few weeks. I met with them, they gave me the DVDs about the school and the missionaries, and I've been emailing with Sis.Goodrum ever since then. She helped me edit my application and has become a great friend over the past six months, always asking me what's going on with school and such, and helping me with whatever I need to get ready to go.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

How does this relate to Gideon?

God gets me. He gets that I like to weasel my way out of even the slightest bit of adversity. I don't like change, and I need to be locked into something.

I took my letter and Partners In Missions slips to church today to show off. Almost everyone I showed them to asked me if they could take one of the slips home with them. Oh yeah, by the way, PIM slips are contribution pledges. Sis.Potter, who has been gung-ho for me going on this trip since the second I told her about it, was incredibly psyched about me getting my slips and is working on some secret project for the craft fair in March that will raise a lot of money for me. My world-traveling friend, Jacqueline, has a bunch of books with stuff to know before you pack to go overseas.

Yesterday, I was having a nervous breakdown, telling my friends and parents that I didn't think I was supposed to go to Paraguay anymore, because of all of the changes.

Gideon asked God for signs. He wanted to know that there was no grey area, no fine print to get him out of God's will for him. He did everything in his power to make sure that what God was telling him was in fact God. I have a feeling that he was probably a little weirded out about the idea of leading Israel to victory. And both times, God showed him that it was in fact him, without a doubt.

God gets that I will take the loopholes if I can get them. I will jump at any chance to say, "Well, you didn't specifically saaaaay......"

Seriously, just ask my parents.

So, he provides, quickly, and clearly, and without any loopholes to make sure that I get that I'm doing good and that I'm doing what I should do. He's awesome like that.

Oh yeah, by the way, Gideon comes out victorious in the end.

Keeping The Faith

I'm officially official now. I have been appointed to Paraguay.

Slight change, though, I'm only going for six months instead of a year, which may mean being able to go to college during the second semester rather than a year late. This is all good stuff.

However, upon the reception of my budget, paperwork, etc., I had the world's biggest freak-out.

The budget is around $2,500 more than my estimate, they have me living in an apartment rather than the Bible School dorm, and, oh yeah, did I mention that my time plan is off?

What is going on?

My mind flashed back to my family's situation about two years ago, when we went up north to pastor. The whole year was extremely confusing and tumultuous and not what we expected at all. It was really hard and a lot of it has been blocked out of my mind. So, why do I feel like I'm going through the same thing again?

I sobbed for a while, asking God why he couldn't just stick with the clear, original plan that he gave me at an altar in July. He had proven that he was calling me somewhere, giving me a specific calling to a dinky country that I had never heard of, so it must have been him. He had answered within the amount of time that I had begged him for. I had never had God speak to me so clearly, then, so where was he now? Why is it that after I followed after everything he asked me- saving up money working at the stupid coffee place, spending some of that money to send off the ridiculously long application to FMD, waiting and waiting forever to hear back, and offering to sacrifice a year of my time, putting off going to my first choice college and program to go to a very poor country and live- why is it that after I listen and do all of this stuff, that he decides to turn it upside down and be nowhere near where I am.

I can kind of imagine God sitting up in Heaven, listening to this, drumming him fingers, letting out a huge sigh, and going, "Dude, are you done, yet? Can I talk?"

Every step of the way, I've hit some kind of jam. It took me three months to fill out the application, I couldn't find my application fee money, FMD took a VERY long time answering, I got an acceptance letter the same day as I got a letter from Foreign Missions. The coffee place was horrible. Without fail, I've hit adversity through every tedious step of this process over the past six months. Why should the real stuff, the stuff that counts, be any different?

God brought me through every last part of this process. He has never failed me, and although sometimes he's seemed distant, he's never left me during this entire thing. He knows I'm a wimp and can't do it on my own. So, he helps me.

I just have to keep the faith.