Thing Number 4 that Used to be Normal and Now is Not

Waking up and assuming it was going to be a sunny day.

For those of you who live in West Michigan, need I say more?

I actually remember first thinking about this when I lived in the DR and one random day when it was cool and rainy I was awash with a sense of excitement and joy. Yes, the clouds and rain actually put me in a good mood. Why? Because it reminded me of home.

I gave up checking the weather a few weeks ago when a clear pattern emerged: clouds and rain. And in breaking news, one of our Local Weather Experts just confirmed what we all sensed last month: we had a sunshine shortage.

But today is sunny, so that's nice.

Spoiler Alert

Yes, there are actually more than 3 Things that Used to be Normal but Now is (are?) Not. I'm not for listing long excuses for not blogging (okay...not true, I've been known to do it in the past), so here is a short list:

1. The school year started and I somehow neglected to remember how insane that makes life. Never again will I feel guilty about relaxing in the summer.

2. I am in the process of buying a house...in Holland. Never again will I say never. Er, wait...

So, I'll might start up the series again mañana because, as they say, siempre hay mañana.

Thing Number 3 that Used to be Normal and Now is Not

Having to clean up the dishes on the spot for fear of an ant (or larger Outside Thing) infestation.

I really am a fairly clean person and I have always enjoyed doing the dishes as it makes me feel like I have accomplished something. I have even been known to end up with some roommate issues because of my particularity of not leaving dirty dishes in the sink (some might call this particularity being a tad too Type A). However, this all came into handy when I moved to the DR and realized that even the Type B's were forced into Type A-ness when it came to dishes unless they wanted to serve as a film site for the Discovery Channel (seriously, I watched in amazement at the persistence, force and strength of an ant colony). Those buggers would find even the smallest crumb and invite others in for a party. I often kept flour (who knew ants like flour?) and cereal boxes in the freezer to kill the ants. And never, ever would I leave my counter looking like this after dinner:

Which is exactly what I did the other night as my friends and I moved to the front porch for drinks after dinner.

Interestingly enough, I think I am less Type A about the dishes than I was before I moved to the DR--simply for the sheer novelty of leaving something on the counter (even overnight!) and not find yourself under attack. Tracy, my first roommate in the DR, visited me last winter and also commented at one point, "isn't it great that you can leave food out without worrying about animals?" Freedom.

Sidenote: speaking of animals, we have one living in the house. Not a pet mind you, more of a squirrel or raccoon type (definitely qualifying as an Outside Thing) that woke me up at 6 am as it was scratching the sheet metal covering the living room vent. Critter Control comes tomorrow, no worries. I'm sure I'll sleep great tonight.

Thing Number 2 that Used to be Normal and Now is Not

Having to take your car into the shop if your horn is broken.

A few days ago I was riding in the car with some friends through one of many construction zones that currently exist in Holland. In the midst of a bit of mayhem, we found ourselves behind a car attempting to turn left, with a sign directly to the right of the car that clearly indicated that this was a no-no. Joel sat patiently and after a few seconds I couldn't help it and said, "Honk. Honk! This is your chance to use your horn!" He didn't honk. The car eventually turned and we went on our way.

When I first learned to drive in the DR people would jokingly say,"yeah, here you take your car in if your horn is broken." The thing is, it's not a joke. Driving without a horn in the DR is dangerous for everyone involved (including anyone in your car, anyone in another car, the 5 people on the moto next to you, and the cow wandering aimlessly down the street). At first, I found it annoying and, being the good Dutch West Michigander that I am, even rude. It didn't take long to realize: honk or die. Granted, there are times when the honk is perhaps overused--it was almost like it was a contest to see who could honk first when the light turned green to urge the cars to get on with it already (which always struck me as extremely ironic for a culture that doesn't seem to hurried about most things). As with other things, I adapted and realized that the horn really is a lovely (and practical) part of the car.

That is why I love looking for opportunities to honk here in the States (another reason I may need to move to bigger city). It's tricky since someone can basically almost kill you as they cut you off on a highway, or sit at a light for 10 seconds after it turns green and you look like the idiot (or jerk) if you honk (again, extremely ironic for a culture that seems hurried about most things). I remember my sister even telling me about a friend of hers who got a ticket for "obsessive use of the horn" upon honking hello to some friends on the street.

Cars come with horns for a reason...I think it's time we bring back the honk.

Image from free.foto.com

Introducing: Things that Used to be Normal and Now are Not

A few months ago when I was Spring Cleaning I discovered this:


A hole about the size of a dime in one of my screens. At first, I was quite consumed by this hole and had visions of all sorts of Outside Things making their merry way inside. And since another one of my screens was not quite in properly, there was at least two entry point for these Outside Things. I remember contemplating calling my neighbors down to help me pop the one screen back in and trying to find some duct tape to temporarily fix the hole. I was quite obsessed about it for a few of days.

And then, it dawned on me: I had lived five years of my life without screens in the Dominican Republic and didn’t think twice about it.

Granted, Outside Things in the DR didn’t include squirrels; but it did include lizards, flying ants, regular ants, cockroaches, rats, mosquitoes and little boys who took advantage of the wide slats of the window and managed to steal the car keys from my kitchen table which was a good five feet from the window. Having screens wouldn’t have stopped some of the Outside Things from getting in anyway, and since hardly anyone had screens it actually didn’t cross my mind to get them.

I often think of myself as having to figure out “how to live like an adult” twice in my life. Phase One happened in another country (I moved to the DR three weeks after graduating from college) and the second time is still underway (Phase Two started about four years ago upon moving back from living in the DR for five years). At first some of the differences were glaringly obvious, but now I don’t think too much about the differences. That is, until something like a dime sized hole in a screen causes me to stop and think about what my life was like in Phase One of becoming an adult.

Thus I have decided to start a mini-series of sorts: Things that Used to be Normal and Now are Not.

Some caveats about said series:

1. This is not an attempt to claim that one way is better than the other or even more “normal” than the other. For at some point in both Phases I have had things shift from “normal” to “abnormal” and vice versa (i.e. my first few weeks in the DR I probably did get the heebies that there weren’t any screens on the windows).
2. This is also not an attempt to pull the “back when I was a missionary we had to walk five miles for water—uphill both ways in the snow” (this obviously is not true because I lived in the Caribbean, and (most days) had running water).

Things that Used to be Normal and Now are Not is more for my own benefit as I have seen that thinking through the differences between my Phases of Adulthood explain a bit why I am the way I am about certain things. Moreover, thinking through these differences gives you one big fat perspective check. So, here’s to a new series…and I welcome anyone who has had a similar experience to share their own Thing that Used to be Normal but Now is Not.

I Heart My Honda

Lest you think after my last post that I play favorites in regards to my means of transportation, I thought I would dedicate a post to another love of my life: my Honda Accord. She may not be a beauty, but she’s gem.

Nope, that’s not dirt on the front bumper, nor is it dead bugs. Apparently some Hondas made in ’98 received a bum paint job. Just last week someone commented on it because they know someone else with the same problem and they suggested we start a group to file a class action suit. That sounds like a lot of work and, quite frankly, the peeling paint makes it easy for me to find my car in a parking lot.

I love my Honda because she drives like a champ despite her age, has some funky electrical quirks (I’ve always found quirky people endearing, so why not cars?) and she came with an old school car phone system, including the actual old phone that you can still charge up and play Snake on when you are stuck in traffic. What I may love most about my Honda, however, is how she is a tangible reminder of how God really does indeed provide exactly what we need (and even want).

The story goes like this:

I was living in the Dominican Republic and was on my 2nd vehicle, a little Toyota Tercel. The Tercel was also quite endearing after driving a ’74 Nissan Patrol that drove like a tractor (you turned it off by pulling a kill cord) and left you smelling like diesel anytime you rode in it because fumes would seep up through the floorboards. I loved the Tercel even after I had to have the engine rebuilt (a story of love, loss and enduring friendship despite a cracked oil pan resulting from said friend driving my car) and I loved it up until it was totaled on a mountain road as a drunk driver swerved into my lane. Which resulted in again not only dealing with police stations and Pokemon notebooks, but also insurance companies, car dealers and pervasive thoughts of “get me out of this country….now.”

Right about this time I remember talking with Jen and Scott who had left the DR and moved back to North Carolina. I remember Jen telling me about their transition back and all the details that went with moving a family back to the States after 10 years overseas. And I remember being a bit covetous when she told me that they were driving a Honda Accord that her brother had sold to them dirt-cheap after driving it for business (I don’t know much about cars but know enough to know that “highway miles” is supposed to elicit an “ahh” along with a nod of approval). In fact, I vividly remember thinking to myself, “Oh, that sounds nice. Maybe someday I’ll live in the States again and if I do I hope that I get to drive a Honda Accord” (said in a dreamy, longing voice, most likely punctuated with a sigh).

Fast forward three years: I’ve just moved back to the States after 5 years in the DR. Scott and Jen drove up to Michigan from North Carolina to attend the wedding of mutual friends. Scott and Jen were asking me what the transition had been like so far and I mention this, that and the other thing including the fact that I was anxious to have my own transport again. Scott looks at me and says, “Would you want to buy this car?”

“This car” was the very Honda Accord that I had pined for three years earlier. I mean literally it was the same car. True story. Why yes, yes I did want to buy that car. So, I also got a steal of a deal and it has been the smoothest car relationship I’ve ever had: four years and going strong.

I remember reading Richard Foster’s book Freedom of Simplicity the very first summer I spent in the DR. Great book….challenging book. One of the things he encourages is to pray about things before you buy them to see if God will provide what you need before you buy it. Now, I am pretty sure he was referring especially to major purchases and I remember thinking, “that seems like a good idea….buuuut, so like, how long do you have to wait? How much advance notice do you need to give God? Should I pray before I buy my groceries? Does it “work” best if you give God specifics or just a general idea of what you are looking for?”

I think about this every time I think of my car. I almost felt like I needed to pull an OT move and rename the Honda “el-something-or-another-cool-sounding-in-Hebrew” (roughly translated: God Provides) because I really do believe that God desires to provide for us. And I really do believe that we muck it up not only for ourselves, but also for others, when we get anxious, greedy and impatient when it comes to our needs/wants. And while I don’t believe that there is some magic formula to how it works, I do believe it has a whole lot to do with perspective and patience as well as some intentional sorting through needs versus wants.

I Heart My Honda.

And, as cheesy as the next sentence I am about to write is, I Heart My Honda because it reminds me that God Hearts Me (and yes, if I could figure out how to embed the chorus of Our God is an Awesome God or Shine, Jesus Shine into this post I would).

Bicycle Girl

This is one of the loves of my life: my red bike.





I love it because it is red. I love its practical and savvy milk crate (that makes me feel a bit rebellious as a misuse it). I love it because it saves me money on gas. And I love that it was found at a garage sale.

Living a half mile from my office I truly have zero excuse not to walk or bike to work. This has been great for me because I can be quick to buy into excuses, and there is something about not driving every day that makes me feel healthier. While some of this is perhaps due to the fact that not driving means that I am more active, I know there is more to it than that. After days of not driving anywhwere I feel more connected…to myself, to the earth, to my neighborhood and community…it just feels right, like it’s the way it is supposed to be.

A few weeks ago I was introduced to a neighbor who lives around the corner and down the block. Upon being introduced she gave me the “I’m-trying-to-place-you-and-will-work-it-out-in-my-head-before-resorting-to-ask-you” look. After a few seconds she exclaimed, “Oh! Are you Bicycle Girl?”

Little did she know that she had just issued me the best compliment I had received all summer.

View From My Desk

This is what I look at when I sit down at the desk in my office:
A bulletin board full of faces and places I love...quotes to challenge and inspire...and little bits of love and encouragement from the faces and places I love.

No real complaints about this bulletin board. It was a bit of a labor of love to get it covered with a fabric remnant I found (and though it was a steal of a deal, I still wish I had splurged the extra 50 cents for another piece) and it gives me a place to stare when I am procrastinating this, that and the other thing.

What I have been wondering lately, however, is when do you take things down from the bulletin board and replace them with other things? As I have stared a lot at this sucker this summer (summer has a knack for allowing me to perfect my procrastinating skills) I have simply been wondering what I might want to replace. But then, what do you do with the things you take down? Throw them away?

I some of the same thoughts when it comes to framed pictures. I love, love the pictures I have in my apartment but some of them are o.l.d. and I have some new pictures that I would love to put up but don't want boatloads of frames around my house and can't bear to take down some of the old ones.

One thing I wonder is if the resistance to changing these things is part of wanting things to stay the same. And since I have been in a bit of a mindset of "I Liked Things Better the Way They Were Before" for oh about...an entire year now...maybe it makes sense that I don't want to change some things. But let's get real: I don't really like snow and it is summer. The cut-out snowflake could easily go.

Lest you think I search for a deeper meaning behind everything I do/think, I also readily acknowledge that part of the "resistance" to changing these things might be better known by another term: laziness. And, I realize that if this is the extent of my problems (knowing when to put up new pictures), it means I'm having a pretty good day. Meanwhile, if you see something you would like (note: I refuse to part with the large, naked Barbie on the chaise lounge) let me know...it might help solve my dilemma.

Fitting In

This summer I have spent Monday mornings hanging out with this little lady:


Harper Lain Schoon Tanis…soon to become one of the World’s Greatest Women.

Last week I was heading to the park to meet my friend Elizabeth for a “play date.” In the six short blocks to the park I managed to have a bit of an identity crisis. It started as I pushed the stroller across the street in front a cute guy in a car and realized, “he thinks I’m a mom.” Which then turned into, “I’m meeting a friend my age (who really is a mom) for a play date. This could be my life….a mom.” As I neared the park and saw a Mom Pack (similar to a Wolf Pack, but slightly less vicious) standing watch over their children playing I developed sudden anxiety because I hadn’t yet put sunscreen on Harper. I imagined the Mom Pack watching me and thinking, “what kind of mother is she?!?” Wait. I’m not a mother. I’m a baby-sitter. A 31-year-old baby-sitter. It wasn’t quite noon but I was definitely ready for a drink.

I’ve been re-reading some of my favorite books lately and just finished Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I first read it when I went to Africa. As I read it again I became even more convinced that we could (should) be great friends. She eloquently explains part of the reasoning for the quick onset of my identity crisis (which, to be quite frank, happens more often than I’d like to admit as a single woman in her thirties in this lovely Midwestern town).

“To create a family with a spouse is one of the most fundamental ways a person can find continuity and meaning in America (or any) society. I rediscover this truth every time I go to a big reunion of my mother’s family in Minnesota and I see how everyone is held so reassuringly in their positions over the years. First you are a child, then you are a teenager, then you are a young married person, then you are a parent, then you are retired, then you are a grandparent—at every stage you know who you are, you know that your duty is and you know where to sit at the reunion. Until at last you are sitting with the ninety-year-olds in the shade, watching over your progeny with satisfaction. Who are you? No problem—you’re the person who created all this. The satisfaction of this knowledge is immediate, and moreover, it’s universally recognized. How many people have I heard claim their children as their greatest accomplishment and comfort of their lives? It’s the thing they can always lean on during a metaphysical crisis, or a moment of doubt about their relevancy—If I have done nothing else in this life, then at least I have raised my children well.

But what if, either by chose or by reluctant necessity, you end up not participating in this comforting cycle of family and continuity? What if you step out? Where do you sit at the reunion? How do you mark time’s passage without the fear that you’ve just frittered away your time on earth without being relevant? You’ll need to find another purpose, another measure by which to judge whether or not you have been a successful human being. I love children, but what if I don’t have any? What kind of person does that make me?” (Eat, Pray, Love, 95).

Before you get too concerned: I am not really having a crisis over whether I want to have children right now or not (I don't); nor am I about to take any drastic measures to fit more comfortably in this culture as a 31-year-old woman. But I have been giving a lot of thought lately to where I “fit” here as most of my contemporaries are in the Mom Pack or at least not having to give thought to whether they should or should not take a date with them to a wedding. Granted, I have been trying to find where I "fit" ever since I moved back from the Dominican Republic 4 years ago…and though there have been moments where I’ve thought that I had found my niche, life keeps on keeping on and I am forced to find new niche.

Thankfully, I have good people in my life to encourage me and remind me that I am indeed a normal person and that I am not (despite my mind’s best attempts to convince myself at times) going to end up a crazy woman with lots of cats and almost-completed-cross-word-puzzles lying around my apartment.

Though...at least then people (myself included) would know then where I fit: in the Crazy Aunt category. Again, as my should-be-friend puts it:

"Last summer, my five-year-old niece had a little friend over to my sister’s house to play. I asked the child when her birthday was. She told me it was January 25.

"Uh-oh!" I said. “You’re an Aquarius! I’ve dated enough Aquarians to know that they are trouble.”

Both the five-year-olds looked at me with bewilderment and a bit of fearful uncertainty. I had a sudden horrifying image of the woman I might become if I’m not careful: Crazy Aunt Liz. The divorceé in the muumuu with dyed orange hair who doesn’t eat dairy but smokes menthols, who’s always just coming back form her astrology cruise or breaking up with her aroma-therapist boyfriend, who reads the Tarot cards of kindergarteners and says things like, “Bring Aunty Liz another wine cooler, baby, and I’ll let you wear my mood ring…” (Eat, Pray, Love,96).

Ahhh...that's funny to me. And, I have always wanted a mood ring...

Spring Cleaning Season is Finally Over

For some reason this year Spring Cleaning seemed like a good idea. Not exactly sure why (as my mother pointed out, "I have no idea where you learned that"). And, after spending 4 hours on the first (and smallest) room turns out that Spring Cleaning was more fun to think about doing than to actually do. It sounded like a really good idea in my head the last few weeks of the school year when all I wanted to do was something that made me feel like I actually accomplished something. I would sit at my desk and dream up a plan for cleaning...would it be smarter to take it room by room? Or should I wipe/dust all the baseboards at once?

In the end I went with the room by room strategy. There was a moment of Spring Cleaning Truth early on in the venture when I looked down into a vent. You should understand that I live in an older home so the vent is really a large hole in the floor with a wooden slatted cover. While it isn't an endless abyss, it easily could be a hiding place for a small child. As I looked down and saw a cat toy (there hasn't been a cat in the apartment for 2 years) and some other random objects I realized I had a choice: to really Spring Clean or not. I seriously paused for a good bit staring at the vent and then, somewhat proud and annoyed with myself at the same time, took the time to take off the slats and clean out the vent.

I won't bore you with the rest of my Spring Cleaning adventure that spanned about a month and at one point caused a friend to ask me, "Kate, do I need to do an intervention?" Throughout the month, however, I kept thinking about staring down into that vent (especially when I was at similar breaking points: do I clean behind the stove too??) and wondering what it was that compelled me in that moment with the vent to truly Spring Clean. Because, truth be told, there were other moments along the way that I chose the alternative (i.e., while I did move the stove, I didn't even bother with the top of the kitchen cabinets and I am well over thinking it would be a good idea to clean my screens).

In one of my new Favorite Books of All Time it says: "true religion is radical; it cuts to the root (radix is Latin for root). It moves us beyond our "private I" and into reality. Jesus seems to be saying in the Sermon on the Mount that our inner attitudes and states are the real sources of our problems. We need to root out the problems at that level. He says not only that you must not kill but that you must not even harbor hateful anger. He begins with the necessity of a pure heart (Matthew 5:8) and knows that the outer will follow. Too often we force the outer and the inner remains like a cancer" (Richard Rohr,Everything Belongs).

I want to be radical. And I want to want to do the work it takes do so. I think that one of the things that can be so discouraging about it is that there is always something to be rooted out. I am someone who wants to get things done (quickly if possible) and cross it off the list (for good). What I am learning, however, is to be patient with myself...patient with others...to remember that while my screens may still be filthy, I did clean the dang vents and perhaps next spring (please tell me there isn't such a thing as Fall Cleaning??) I will do the opposite.

Welcome to My Brain

I truly did have intentions on starting to blog more regularly…apparently, however, I haven’t been able to muster up the discipline to do so. I think I also got a bit discouraged when I read in some article somewhere that some woman somewhere makes more money than me annually simply from blogging. Normally I am one who is up for any type of friendly competition, but for some reason rather than light a fire under my butt it just made me think, “really???” And that “really???” thought turned into “damn, she must have some super insightful/witty/intelligent things to say in order to make that much money,” which turned into, “damn, I wish I had more insightful/witty/intelligent things to say in order to make that much money from blogging,” which probably led me to drink a beer or eat a cookie cookies to try to muster up some more insightful/witty/intelligent things to say.

I think I thought of some. But the work of trying get those thoughts into printed form seemed like a bit too much work. Like I said, what I really need to muster up is some discipline.

Besides the lack of discipline is the fact that I have a fast brain. Now I’m not trying to toot my own horn (though I did kick butt in 3rd grade ‘speed math’ competitions, which made up for being picked last for most PE events…well, almost made up for), it simply is a fact: the only thing my body manages to do quickly is think. Again, these thoughts aren’t necessarily all insightful/witty/intelligent. For example, the other night I was sitting at an outdoor concert under this h-u-g-e white tent and at one point my thoughts drifted from wondering why the tent was so huge, to wondering what on earth I would ever want embroidered, to wondering why I always think of that Rick Moran movie Honey I Shrunk the Kids! when I stare at the grass, to wondering if I ever really want kids, to wondering if my now divorced parents ended up buying burial plots next each other and if so what happens with that now, to wondering what kind of chemicals were in the treats that Joel bought at the party store, to thinking that the concert was much more enjoyable now because of said treats. And this was probably all within 15 seconds.

See, I don’t necessarily stay on one thought too long. Wellll, that’s not entirely true. There do seem to be some thoughts in my life that—despite all my best efforts—have outstayed there welcome. The point is, however, that I have had many thoughts of relatively insightful/witty/intelligent things to write since my last post but before I get a chance to write them I am on to something else.

But I am determined to become more disciplined. And to realize that not every blog needs to be super insightful/witty/intelligent (I once simply posted a picture from a menu for crying out loud!) because the reality is that I am never going to become a self-employed blogger.

So here’s to yet another attempt to become more disciplined…which I’ll get to it as soon as I bake some more cookies.

A New Reason to Invest in a Thigh Master

If you have been wondering where you stuff all that fear and anger that you think you have gotten rid of, you might want to check your thighs. I was at my first “neuro-skeletal-muscular-structuring” appointment yesterday (think slightly-less-than-relaxing massage with the intent of straightening your body) and after having my body assessed (always fun) she was beginning to work on my ‘structure.’ I won’t bore you with all the nuances of what is off with my body but as she was working on my quadriceps she inserted this tidbit: our thigh muscles are where we store the emotions of fear and anger. Interesting. She went on to say that I shouldn’t be surprised if I felt “off” later in the day, perhaps like I was PMSing. She then told me of someone who had had this done and came back the next day and said, “I don’t know what it was, but for some reason last night all I wanted to do find you and kill you.” Interesting. Thus, she likes to give the disclaimer before one might feel that way.

I must say, the rest of the day I did feel somewhat irritable. I wondered if it was just a matter of self-fulfilling prophecy. But then again, I have felt somewhat irritable the past few days so it wasn’t anything too particularly out of the ordinary. And I have been trying to pinpoint exactly what it is that has been off, so to be able to blame it on tbe fear and anger that had been hiding in my thighs was somewhat of a relief. Like when you get your period and think, “ohhhh, that’s why I’ve been so funky.” I realize to those who don’t have this monthly luxury this may seem odd—I mean you should see it coming, right? Doesn’t this happen every four (or so) weeks?? Yet, and I don’t know why, for some reason it can be like a monthly memory lapse. What I do know is that it is usually such a relief to be able to pinpoint what the heck was the culprit of the ability to shift from inconsolable sadness to inconceivable rage in a split second (note: lest you think it a good idea to suggest to someone they might be suffering from a monthly memory lapse, think again. This is only appropriate if you too are capable of PMS).

The point is this: sometimes it is nice to have a concrete reason as to why you feel the way you do. And while my current reason is perhaps counterproductive in some ways, today I am perfectly content to place the blame on my thighs. And yeah, yeah, yeah, I have taken enough counseling courses over the years and been in enough counseling to know that the real work is trying to figure out why my thighs had some fear and anger to begin with. At this point, however it has been more fun to ponder why it is your thighs that store these particular emotions. Really, of all the emotions to be stored in your thighs, how funny is it that it’s these two? I’m guessing (unfortunately) for most women, it wouldn’t be quite fitting to have your thighs store contentment and happiness.

So the next time you are feeling extra anxious or angry and are looking for a reason why, you might want to consider dusting off your old ThighMaster or doing some squats followed by some stretches, and then you will and least have the option of blaming it on your thighs.

And We're Back

I’ve decided to stop simply giving lip service to the fact that I want to work on my writing and actually do something about it. The reasons I stopped blogging a while back are vast, but that was then and this is now. To ease back into it I thought I would give a synopsis of what has been happening in my life via a compilation of my Facebook statuses. Warning: it is by no means grammatically correct and chronologically works its way backwards to my very first status. So if you are more Team Smart than Team Fun this might bother you, as it is somewhat counterintuitive to a proper update to start with the latest news and I am all over the map with capitalization.

That being said…here is a window the past year and a half of my life in Facebook Status Form.

Kate Davelaar…

... love really does win.... loves that KST loves spam.... 100.... moves to click her ruby shoes.... flinging spring.... no meal is complete without dessert.... loves her friends.... is excited to sleep in my sleeping bag tonight...in the Pine Grove.... is pretty proud to be the first one at the committee meeting this morning. that never happens.... loves that I just heard a piece on NPR about Kelly Clarkson.... wishes Winter would just give up already... has never been too particularly fond of jelly beans... is thinking of her friends in CO... thinks the multiplication factor in the scoring is ridiculous.... who knew a milk frother would really make the mornings that much better?... mac attack!... is back on top.... the 'year of the concert' keeps getting better and better... loves the madness.... is still in love with the DR.... is going to pico escondido for a week...you should come visit.... is drinking hot beverages all day long... so many things to love about march!... woke up this morning and smiled at the rising sun... isn't sure if she was just rained on or snowed on... thinks the kates' hour is the happiest.... would like a donut in honor of fat tuesday.... can't stop thinking about slumdog millionaire.... has a vague recollection of being tan.... troubleshoots.... somehow manages to over/underestimate people at the same time... is only happy in the sun... keeps losing her favorite winter hats.... 70s and sunny, here I come... was just given a kitchen aid...reinforcing: best week ever.... best week ever... found her sense of humor.... welcomes 09gonnabefine... heading to dublin to welcome the new year by kicking butt in nertz.... is getting a lesson in banket making.... for some reason has really been into listening to 104.5 lately.... is going to spend most of the day in the kitchen and couldn't be happier about that.... is thankful for the Schoon-Tanis internet cafe.... is about to get reinspired by Sydney Bristow... needs a beach—one that comes with palm trees.... hopes.... had her computer stolen from her kitchen table. No joke.... misses many things: summer included.... wait wait don't tell me... it's a sunshine day.... about this time every week remembers how long Tuesdays are... may have just shoveled more leaves than snow.... fruit basket upset.... highly doubts her car battery is going to make it through the winter... going to head back north where it is ironically a touch warmer... will someday own a cello again.... just remembered that she is not very good at maneuvering in the snow... is watching her nephew take out his sugar-high on the basketball hoop... is required to be judgmental tonight... can't believe how nice it is outside right now.... has assembled her own transition team.... is going to stop being a canary in the kitchen—as soon as someone can explain what that even means.... is thankful that the noro-days are accumulating faster than the snow... norovirus is a close second to a national holiday... viva la vida.... www.givestudio.com.... dreams really do come true.... appreciates really right answers.... should not have looked at the 10 day forecast.... could use some change she can believe in.... is not going to miss you like a child misses their blanket because that would be ridiculous.... is tired.... is trying to read too many books at once... rocky mountain high... finds it slightly ironic that she is trading a weekend of 70s and sunny for 50s and rainy... thanks the Cubs for reminding her that some things in life do stay the same... go cubs go... finally figured out what to get elizabeth for her birthday... can't decide who she is more thankful for: Jon Stewart or Tina Fey.... loves her bike, even though it just ruined her new jeans... fue a la playa y ahora está feliz... is trying her best to be an adult... tulipanes.org... is finally reading the Sunday paper.... is in need of a deck of cards. First person to bring one to the Keppel House wins…something.... flew over to tanzania a year ago today... might end up drinking too much coffee today... loves her job, even on Labor Day.... thinks Barack might have a crush on her since he sends her so many emails... is way more productive when it is cloudy... wants everyone to go eat at the new taqueria on 16th st.... being quite excited to paint, may have eaten lunch way too quickly... august? how did that happen...... wishes someone could explain the logic behind the new setup at Meijer... act your age not your shoe size... is getting things done.... thought she was pretty handy, until almost electrocuting herself... has finally been stimulated by George W.... wishes her windows at home were shut.... for the record, has never lived in New York.... is sitting in her new office... is thrilled to be as old as Ben & Jerry's... is baffled by our postal system... accidently bought 100 stamps and now that she actually needs one has no clue where they are... is considering a career in customer service... is going to the zoo... saw a woman walking her two parrots. don't worry, they were on leashes... is thrilled to be sitting in her new apartment... is a Reverend (with a capital R)... go Cubs go...... graduated.... is graduating.... does anyone out there know anything about redaction criticism?... go cubs go.... is jealous of Kathy S-T... is writing a paper. or, at least trying to... 3 years later is still failing to adjust to cooking with an electric stove...go Cubs go.... is slightly excited about presidente, flipflops and palm trees... is going to the Dominican Republic manana.... is so sick of shoveling... you know it's bad when you are looking forward to it being 30 degrees later in the week.... learned today that my ability to procrastinate has reached a whole new level... was actually considering living in Michigan after graduation...until stepping outside an hour ago... slept better before becoming convinced that yes, yes we can... loves that today is both super and fat... YES WE CAN... thinks if you make less than $6000 in a year you shouldn't have to file tax returns... is a nicer person when the sun is shining... is completely comfortable with the fact that she drives like an old lady in the snow....hopes everyone is aware of what has been going down in Kenya this past week.... is trying to solve the deadly combination of fleece jackets and dog hair.... just discovered the difference a high-speed internet connection can make uploading photos... realized it can be just as hard to run errands in the States...especially during the yuletide.... is thinking there might be something living in her stomach... is not looking forward to having to wear boots instead of flip-flops in about 24 hours from now... is still trying to figure out what makes running errands in developing countries so difficult... is wondering why turkey eggs don't receive a lot of hype... is trying to avoid going up and down stairs after hiking for 16 hours yesterday... is hoping that she doesn't get blisters from her new hiking boots... is thinking she has reached her limit on how many cups of chai and pieces of meat she can eat in one day... is wondering if anyone was going to tell her that she spelled 'signing' wrong or if people really thought she was somewhere in Africa "singing" up for Facebook... is still wondering if singing up for Facebook was a good idea.