Spring Break's here (insert excited face). I have to say I wasn't prepared for it. I could've stayed in High Point for at least a couple more weeks. Isn't that weird? Last year I couldn't get home fast enough and now, I'm homesick for High Point. It's a different experience when you don't want to be home. Don't get me wrong... I love seeing my supportive family, but when I come home (and not really wanting to at that) I really just want the ultimate atmosphere to just relax and hang out with my fam, maybe hit the salon for a hair cut (I still don't know what I'm doing with it). But since I've been home, well my dad is never home since he's working the outage at the power plant and my mom is having pre-menstruation problems, you know, depression, thinking she has no friends, complaining, just being overall grumpy all the time. Which is really unfortunate because her life is amazing, I just wish God would open her eyes to help her see that more. And... I know God calls me to be grateful for the things I have - but I can't help but feel a little depressed whenever I come home. I just have bad memories stored in this house. I hated moving around, I always felt like I didn't fit in in middle and some of high school, I didn't have the most supportive family at the time and I was still in the middle of my dance training, aka anorexia-ville. I went through alchohol and smoking and making bad choices with my friends on this street. I stole my sister's clothing when she was gone. All these things... they all happened while I was living here. I feel like one of God's criterion for my colleges was that it was reasonably far from my home. I know now that Canada and Oxford (the places I was thinking of at the time) were a little extreme and He never wanted me that far away, but during my senior year I was blindsided by my more unsavory moments in Lusby and getting eons of space between me and my family was all I could think about. It stinks that God lets those feelings surface, that I allow them to come around and knock me off my feet when I least expect it. Sometimes, when I do something seemingly miniscule, like walking into the dark laundry room or just getting into my childhood bed at night, I get the worst, almost revolting feelings towards this house and my past. It sucks. A lot. Regardless... you know, God calls us to make the best of these situations, to learn and be stronger because of them, and I guess I'll have to. :o)
In other news!
CRU's first formal is coming up a week or two after we get back from break and Britt and I are heading it up, amazing! We really haven't had time to organize much, it being the hectic weeks before break with midterms and projects and all that but I can't wait to get back and start working on it. Being a CRU leader is amazing. Sometimes daunting, like when we have prayer and I feel like I'm being called to speak aloud, but it's such a weakness of mine that I always bite my tongue. Or being vocal about ideas. Hopefully these things are just jitters and they'll abate themselves before long, after we've grown closer as a group. Hopefully! I'm so, so hopeful about this.
Aaaand that's it. When I cut my hair I'll update.
Listening to: my last.fm personal radio station
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