Wipe the Sleep

Funny the things you can procrastinate even over a break from school.

Good to know the desire to put things off will not end come May. Not so good is that I'm actively choosing, with every word I write on this post, to continue putting off the preliminary proposal I promised Dr. Rigelhaupt before Monday.

It's really not a big deal. Clearly it's not graded and I'll have it come Monday morning. It's the most informal paper ever. The first of many assignments revolving around the 1927 flood of the Mississippi to come. I hereby declare, upon my word of honor, that my posts will not revolve around the same topic. You should just know that if random words like levees, runoffs, and delta pop in here without warning as if I suffer writer's tourettes, that's just the thesis talking. I mean no offense.

It seems to have become the 6th of January with no real warning. If you don't count the poppers and the kazoos and my obnoxious repetition of auld lang syne. (a song that I still don't understand and phrase.org is zero help with. I do appreciate its reference to a Smith favorite-- the "cup of kindness.").

I had entertained the idea of participating in NaBloPoMo-- a post a day for the month of January-- but clearly that got away from me. I blame George W. Bush's Decision Points and the company of Noelle who obliged my wish to visit Barnes and Noble. Also Mom and Dad who gave me the gift card. Tsk.

Katie texted me the other day to express her dismay that graduation was yet four months away. "End college" were her words (she likes to be quoted accurately... I don't know what that is about). It sort of feels like this semester is one big 'o long finals week. It is, after all, the final semester. During finals, for me, there is but one goal: finish the task that is immediately before me. Which is hard because, from my perspective, I know that there is so much more to do than what is directly ahead. Also it's hard to get motivated to do my best on the very next exam because mostly the end is so near I can smell it.

Thus, I get where Katie's coming from. As with exams-- when I can't start studying for France until Spain is out of the way-- it's just impossible to start with summer (more dramatically viewed as the rest of our lives) until this spring is over. Unlike Katie, however, I'm more inclined to take solace in that fact and rest in the false refuge that this spring offers from the (yes I am taking the dramatic route here) rest of my life.

That, friends, is procrastination at its finest (this post is a near second). And it's worse than scholastic procrastination--it's life. The scary part is that if I let procrastination rule my every day in the small stuff (read: school) it's going to start reflecting in my attitude towards the big stuff (read: life) and soon I'll be that person that says "yeah I'll do something, I'll have that relationship with God, I'll be that friend." But, having become a professional procrastinator, I'll put it off. Dangerous part of this scenario: papers have deadlines, tests have dates-- but few people get to know the final hours they have to cram in the volunteering and relationship-building. Probably a good thing, nice going on that one, God, because then people like me would put the real life work off for the final days, weeks, maybe even months (if we felt ourselves really generous). Not only does he probably think* he, being God, deserves more than that but there's almost certainly an aspect of that we should be getting much more out of all of this than either a.) putting off the stuff that matters or b.) anticipating the next phase so ardently that I fool myself into thinking that then and only then can I be of significance.

*I do not mean to suggest a great familiarity with the mind of God, just a very shallow knowledge of what he's expressed himself in his word.

side note: I really love sitting at Chic-fil-A (did you know that Louie Giglio's dad designed the "C" in the logo? Thank you, Em) with this middle-aged couple sharing ice cream. Not with me. Just with each other. I'm only watching. Which now sounds creepy. I just like seeing people on a date, especially those whose relationship has been around the sun a few times.

another side note: have you ever noticed how downright impossible it is to find a good version of "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms"? I have to give it to the producers of True Grit, there seems to be a severe shortage of artists who strike the balance between the appalachian twang and the gospel choir soul, but I refuse to believe that Iris deMent's nails on a chalkboard was the best they could do. I'll forgive them, though, per their great use of Carter Burwell's score, which is based on the hymn.

The not-so-subliminal message of this side note is that you should see True Grit if you have not. (If you have seen the movie, you might have picked up on my purposeful lack of contraction there as a sort of homage to Jeff Bridges). (While I have a track record of choosing who I want to win on the annual Oscar ballot with Jill, as opposed to actually predicting who will win, I believe Jeff has a good chance on both counts this year. Plus, I like a feel-good story and should Jeff win for best leading actor, he'll be the first to win twice consecutively. Oprah will be all over this, I'm sure).

I stayed at Emily's house last night because, as Jilly lovingly pointed out, I am a nomad this Christmas. Also because I love her and she reads things about nasty diseases to me while I share selections of political memoirs and we call this "fun." It's forever.

So I woke up to an empty house because big people have real jobs and they were long gone. So I took the time to thoroughly get ready, complete with plucking and moisturizing. And tunes. After the newest glee soundtrack (courtesy of Noelle and Creepy Chris) ran its course (and I belted my soul out to their version of Celine's "River Deep, Mountain High"), a song came on that I remembered from the freshman days of getting ready for outings/sneaking away with the gang in Ruby/not so diligently studying in a given location. Noelle gave the music to me on their way through to Texas and I'd totally forgotten it. The chorus sums up my approach to this new year we have on our hands:

You gotta get up and get the dirt off your shoulder
Wake up and wipe that sleep from your eye
So you won't waste away your life
Break off from the things that hold you
Grab your stuff and head right through the door
And get ready for so much more

-Jake Smith, "Get Up"

2010 was a lot of things.

It started with Emily taking skating lessons (with a man who may or may not be the infamous Alex's dad)

I loved the job (and taking advantage of the slippery floors for some friendly competition)

We celebrated Sarah's birthday (and last semester with us)

I had more fun in Charlottesville than I could've anticipated

There was the blizzard (and Ashley's unmatched love of snow ;-*)

Had a hilarious bunch of interns

Began to love DC (as in experience it) the way I wanted to all along

Watched another class graduate

Kathlean continued to help with the kiddos

Loved Easter

Became the recipient of the Yates' generous hospitality

I "adopted" Zaida

Went "mudyacking" with Gillian

and learned that she has a legitimate fear of dying of thirst

Roadtripped with Katie

2010 was 30 years for them

Sarah got married

Luke and Steph moved

Sarah was there for that (and then she CAME to Arkansas!)

But seriously, I loved my job.

Got to see a wonder of the world.

and this:

Mom and Co. redid my room as a surprise while I was away

I also returned to such an exciting family reunion of sorts

Noelle came for a vacation

Kidzcamp rocked my socks off

You may have heard of a little thing called Truett

I got to babysit like the good 'ole days ('cept for they were older) (also I sported a good many freckles)

Jackson "took a blow to [his] sensitives"

T came on with it

We had our first (and not last) 931 shindig of senior year

My friends were awesome

I just needed to include this one because I love these girls

Noelle was a bachelorette

then she wasn't.

Bess continued to make delicious baked things. (Dina said "she says she likes to bake her feelings. Which is fine, except for I live with her and I do NOT need to eat her feelings.")

The Smiths came to Washington

Then the other Smiths

Solomon!

Got more interns

Leo turned one.

Freshmans (distinguished from the collective and generic "freshmen") 2011!

Truett went house-hunting with C-Pap and Tutu

I got to travel to Atlanta for school

Mam-ma got to meet her late husband's namesake

We celebrated Christmas right!

Peterso finished!

We said goodbye to 4 Beeson Ct.

Dad changed jobs

Amanda Berry Dumas got married

(yes, that's as in Sarah Berry)

I got to hang with these kids

Celebrated Christmas with these kids

and these.

Dad got a hair dryer for Christmas

(that's a joke)

We moved into our home in Fayetteville

(yes, she knows she wouldn't *actually* be able to help him should he fall. It just helped)

Truett and co. came for that, too-- as a pleasant surprise!

These knuckleheads helped ring in the new year

as did these.

Mom and I helped Dad decorate his office

and did a lot of reading and lounging in our new hearth room. Errrr.

That. As they say. Is that.

It was good. I hope I've convinced you (with a sickening amount of pictures) that out of many things, life was good in 2010. But 2010 was a lot of things. And despite all pictorial evidence to the contrary, it was disturbing. My heart was stirred by many things I've seen and even what I haven't seen. Also what I heard.

What it was stirred to remains to be seen.

What I know is that he who calls me is faithful. I also know that my answer cannot be put off. Not this day, not the next.

This is the year of "to be." Because, as Sarah Holljes reminded me in a conversation last night, one year has the power to transform. Well, God does. The year is just a convenient time frame.

Also because I'm learning the real significance in being who I be-- no one else. Less persuaded by circumstance or affected by opinion. Swayed only by the plumb line that is the voice and word of God. (Consequently, "who I be" is not a hater).

L'annee d'etre. It has a ring.

So does this verse that Mom threw out there as a potential verse of the year for me:

"Let not mercy and truth forsake you;

bind them around your neck,

write them on the tablet of your heart,

and so find favor and high esteem

in the sight of God and man."

-Proverbs 3:3-4

I really couldn't dream better circumstances for myself going into 2011.

But I can sure conjure up a vision of a better heart, a better attitude, a better friend, a better servant, a better steward.

So if circumstances have been a dream, I want you to know that I'm awake. I see better. And I am wiping the sleep from my rested eyes to "grab my stuff, get out the door, and get ready for so much more."

To be.