Movie Recommendation

Slumdog Millionaire. 

Un. Real. [Thank you, Brooke.]

I hope your heart sings "Auld Lang Syne," tomorrow. I'll be the one humming over the words I don't know.

A New Perspective

A full day has passed, and my heart is still pulsating faster than normal. Yesterday, I found myself mere miles from home, but seeing the dark countryside anew... on my side in a ditch in my Honda. It's funny, how you can travel life's roads over and over, and then be forced to look from a new perspective.

Traveling down County Road S, the car conceded to the ice, fishtailed, did a 180, then spilled over sideways into the ditch. I was pummeled with my purse, CDs, my SLR, little patters of gum packets, and the uncomfortable weight of gravity. After the motion ceased, I could see smoke in the windy air, and I was hoping it was just the exhaust pipe. Looking out the windshield, I saw packed un-white snow, and hazy icedrops illuminated by headlights. I don't remember details of the conversation I had with Andrew, but I know he kept me calm in the certainly uncomfortable situation. And then, a pair of pants with reflective tape on the cuffs appeared. Shawn, a fireman on his way home from a call came to my rescue. The passenger side door was heavy and frozen shut, but with some push and pull, we opened the door. As I climbed the seats to the outside, I could hear the snow shift under the car; it sounded like glass splintering. Shawn waited with me while my parents and the sheriff came. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the bottom of my car.

Life is precious. And sometimes we don't see how precious it is until we look at it from another perspective. I am thankful for Andrew, for being there for me and keeping me calm; for Shawn, for stopping to pull me out; for the kind sheriff, who was completely understanding; for my parents, for being there immediately and helping me deal with the logistics and legalities; for the towing crew; and for God's protective hand. My car is a bit battered, but I am completely unharmed. As my dad told me, "We can deal with bent metal." I walked away, with nothing more than shock.

I think it was a jolt I needed. In all honestly, I haven't been doing much preparation for the gift that is arriving tomorrow: Jesus. Pastor Hays tonight talked about how Jesus was wrapped in swaddling clothes. Apparently, because journeys in those days were so difficult, many people didn't make it round-trip. Under their clothes, they would wear swaddling clothes, ultimately so that if they died, they would have cloth to wrap the body. A new perspective: Jesus, wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in the manger, who was prepared to die for us from the beginning. 

The shock wore off during the service tonight, and my mind was flooded with thoughts of the Crossroads accident, my scary ice-hap, and people that I love. Tears were let loose. I was broken knowing that I was spared, and I am saved.

Thank you, God. 

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Life Quotes

If you're headed for a life that's only involved with making money and you hope to find satisfaction somewhere else, you're headed for a lot of trouble. And whatever replaces vodka after you're 45 is what you're going to be doing.

—Richard Avedon

Getting Ready

Bought the 13 The Musical soundtrack today, mainly because I can't get the songs out of my head. I figured if they are going to stay there, I should at least know the right words. There's a song entitled, "Getting Ready," and while listening, it hit me. 

I am ready. 

I have a job, a ticket, an apartment with a great roommate, a church, a small group, and friends to hug when I arrive. I am so incredibly blessed. 

I will be off of Facebook for this winter. I don't think it will be the easiest thing, especially with the distance, but I am somewhat excited for the challenge, and hopefully, the opportunity to be less dependent on it. Please email me if you are bored, lonely, need to vent, whatever! [lindsmeyer@gmail.com]

Quick movie recommendation: Sabrina. It is magical.

I hope you enjoy this holiday season with your family and friends.

Things I Like About Napoleon

Went to New York recently, and was fortunate enough to see 13: The Musical. A bunch of talented young people, singing about the woes of middle school. I think everyone hated seventh grade; I know I did. Girls were cutthroat, and we were all so utterly awkward. The majority of the plot happens to be set in Appleton, Indiana. Check out these lyrics to "The Lamest Place in the World."

Down the road there's a Dairy Queen

Up the block there's a Wal-Mart

There's a place you can accessorize your pets

A school, a tree, a couple of churches

And no matter how hard anybody searches

That's about as thrilling as this dumb-ass village gets

It's the lamest place in the world

But it just got a little bit better...

I couldn't help but smirk at the Napoleon irony. I think, more than ever, I am enjoying my winter break in Napoleon; it only took four years to get to this point! I have gone from downright hating it, to making cracks about it, to being depressed about it, to near acceptance. It's easy to look at the Christmas season as nostalgic, and see your life not match up to the movies. I can see myself looking into the window of a happy family on a picturesque wintry evening, like Kevin from Home Alone, seeing all the differences rather than the blessings. Our lives aren't completely choreographed, and I am thankful. I am thankful for all of the quirks, and inside jokes, and even thankful for Napoleon. Who knows if I would appreciate the opportunities I have, if I would have grown up somewhere else. Every opportunity seems exotic and special, and Napoleon is the perfect reminder of that.

Here are a few things I have thought about, since I have been here this week, things that I love about Napoleon:

—Walking into the smell of the house you grew up in

—Feeling tall at the bathroom sink

—Lipstick stains on the bedroom carpet, immortalizing fourth grade

—No expectations; wear a t-shirt and jeans, and you're one of the group.

—Driving on ground so flat, Columbus would be convinced, for miles and miles

—The broad sunsets.

—The sun on a field of morning snow.

—Dumb birds who haven't migrated at the bird feeder.

—The 40 minute drive to Toledo, perfect amount of time to sleep or think.

—Pitch. Black. Night. Who knew that a street without streetlights could be so peaceful. 

—Cats curled up ontop of recycled newspapers, purring at an opened door.

—Stumbling upon memories, people re-earthed.

—WNDH. And the harum of old people who listen to it all day.

—A bedroom closet that holds doll clothes and years-worth of craft supplies.

—Knowing all the people in line with you at the post office, and ooh-ing because you have a letter for Switzerland

—Being identified as Janet Sigg's daughter at the bank

—Never having to fill out a deposit slip

—Smiles from people at church, just happy that you're home

Home Sweet Napoleon.

A [Fine] Frenzy

When you can't explain what's going on in your head and heart, you have license to steal others' attempts. 

Stitch in your knitted brow

And you don't know how

You're gonna get out

Crushed under heavy chest

Trying to catch your breath

But it always beats you by a step, all right now

Making the best of it

Playing the hand you get

You're not alone in this

There's hope for the hopeless

There's hope for the hopeless

There's hope

Cold in a summer breeze

Yeah, you're shivering

On your bended knee

Still, when your heart is sore

And the heavens pour

Like a willow bending with the storm you'll make it

...

—A Fine Frenzy

Oh God, lead me. My compass has been demagnetized.

gingerbread town.

Had the pleasure of dining with some Milford Navs staff tonight, and my summer in Colorado was cemented.  It was awesome to be invited into their home, a place with Christmas-y garland, homemade ornaments, and a roaring fireplace. When I have a family, I would like to roast marshmallows in the fireplace and make smores. At one point in my life I thought it would be cool to have a tree that was simply pristine, that I would probably decorate with white lights and beautiful beads and bows and riduculous put-togetherness, but I think I am to that point now that I just want my tree to look like love. To be covered in stupid glitter glue ornaments made in kindergarten. To be laughable but real and true. And I want a real tree, no more pulling it out of the attic and waiting a few days for it to settle and look like a real tree. 

Drove through Mariemont  on the way home, and that place in Christmas seriously looks like it is made out of gingerbread. I felt like if I would've rolled down my civic windows there would just be laughter floating amuck, and beautiful clouds of cold breath. I wanted to sit and soak up Mariemont. 

Headed now to the DAAP show. It is the end, and I can't believe it. I want afternoons filled with dozens of coffee dates in the last two days I am here. I want to skip/ace my German exam. I want to make sure I do not write off my mind into thinking that friendships must go on hiatus until April. I want comfort in knowing that relationships in Basel will still hold strong. Oh Christmas, fill me.

my fingers are stuck together.

In an effort to escape comp-ing for a few minutes, I am relaxing and getting my keyboard gluey in the process. 

Today was the last Crossroads service in a few months. Before Crossroads, I had never looked forward to church so much; this week, I was ready to go back to church on Wednesday. It has been almost 2 years since I starting going, and I still get tingly and excited to hear God speak to me there, to hear the twang of the bass guitar and to just feel like one essential ingredient in a hearty human stew. ICF here I come. I hope that my German class will pay off a little, and I will understand a bit more of the worship songs that I am singing. I am so thankful; thank you, God.

Steph, you have really been on my mind today. I found the photo album you made me for Hello Dolly, and my heart leapt up a little. I can hear you sing like it was yesterday. You were so supportive, even when I had to dress like a frickin' cake. I miss you... and I know there are a lot of others, too. Whaddaya know... "Elegance" just came on. 

God, I want you in the forefront of my brain's filing cabinet. I want to reference you first. Thanks for dealing with me.

refusal

It's a winter wonderland outside. I'm at my computer, surrounded by packaging comps and Depression timelines... yet I am engrossed by even other thought-patterns. The devil has me right where he wants me. I refuse to overanalyze, and sink into self-dug depths of despair. I can't go back there. I can't face that brick wall again, my scratched tally marks and the graffiti of anger. 

I seek refuge in You, God. I must. I need to place my hope and trust in you.

marshall plan

It's hell week for DAAP and I am getting more sleep than I have all quarter. It's bad when you start to fizzle right when you should be your strongest. My body is just begging me to wave the white flag and loosen the chains of sleep deprivation. And when I do cave, it's just a downward slope. How can sleep be bad, you ask, but somehow it is. 

The comforter, sheets, and the blanket on my bed have been in chaotic disarray since I came back from Thanksgiving. I balled them up in the corner so I would be motivated to work (there is no more terrible chore in my life than putting a bed together). I now sleep like a cat, on a pile of dishevelment, in one unified act of rebellion and failure. 

Thought a bit over break about Christmas music, and I am still pondering. We have hymns and psalms from the beginning, and then the 1950s wave (Mel Tormé, Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Bing, Johnny Mathis), songs that are still played 20 times a day, 50+ years after they were first sung. How are modern artists only peppering the Christmas music scene? When we are 70, are they still going to be playing those same songs? What about all the claymation movies? Are we going to establish any new Christmas staples?

My stomach hurts. I ate too much bacon, I think.

 I now retreat to my bed, and, in the words of megan, will try to execute the marshall plan.

procrastination

Back from Thanksgiving and wishing I was back in Napoleon. I have lost passion for school, I am ready to say my goodbyes and get that hurt over with; no matter how many co-ops I go on, it is still difficult to rip away from Cincinnati.

I'm tired, I have a full night ahead of me, and I really just want to stretch out in front of a fire, watch Casablanca, and fall asleep in someone's arms.