Weekends

My weekends at school seem to follow the same script. Saturday I get up, eat lunch spend about an hour (or so) reading for various classes – with Monday including English and Finance those two are the most popular weekend reading subjects.

Then I grab four quarters from my cup o’ change and head to the gym. I swipe my student ID, head to the indoor track and run 2-3 miles. After I finish running I rent a basketball, buy a Jagged Ice Powerade and select a basketball game going on that looks to include players around my skill level. I play two or three games before filling my now-empty bottle with water and going back to shower.

Then I flip open my laptop and begin working some more. Sometimes I write a paper for English or do homework problems for Finance. But more often than not I can be found Photoshopping flyers, mailbox quartersheets and ads to go into the newspapers for RHA. I also rapidly exchange emails with various contacts looking for sponsors, DJs and hosts for various events and activities. CDS has proved most easy to work with, while the Maneater is very reluctant about cutting student group discounts.

After that I grab a quick dinner and come back to either a short nap or I’ll collapse in the lounge and watch TV.

Sunday’s not much different except that instead of a physical workout, it’s replaced with a spiritual workout. Lunch is after church (usually with Chelsea, Mike and Katie) and more reading and corresponding follows that. Then I go through my usually monotonous week, only to arrive at the weekend 5 days later.

Moral of the story? I’m going to try to work in more spontaneous fun.

Busy

That one word pretty much sums up the first two weeks of the new semester. On top of fifteen hours and my duties as RHA’s Communications Coordinator I’ve added the tasks of creating a platform and campaigning for office. Which isn’t a walk in the park. I’ve had meetings with every sort of person imaginable the past two weeks.

Yesterday evening Justin, Greg and I paid a visit to the people that are catering out ball. Everything we sampled was absolutely phenomenal and it was hard to choose from seven entrees, a dozen side dishes and seven different desert options. We eventually settled on the sauteed chicken Parmesan, the roasted pork tenderloin and some sort of couscous vegetarian option just because we’re required to cater to the needs of the special. We added the sides of green beans and a twice-baked potato, followed by an American chocolate cake.

Tomorrow I have a lunch date with the advertising/publicity director for Campus Dining Services (CDS) to discuss how our organizations are going to split the advertising for the upcoming Iron Chef Mizzou to be held in Brady Commons on February 15. There will be five teams of three, paired up with a chef from one of the Campus Dining Facilities. They’ll follow the same basic format as the real Iron Chef. They’ll be given a secret ingredient and a certain amount of times to make at least 3 dishes to be judged by celebrity judges.

The election will be held from midnight to midnight on Thursday, February 15 and will be voted on electronically. Greg and I worked out our platform on Tuesday and I’ve begun drawing up rough drafts of possible campaign material. We’ve been collecting signature sheets of endorsement and can officially announce our candidacy on January 29. Slates must be announced by February 5, and while there have been whispers of other possible slates forming, no slate has been definitively agreed upon yet. While having multiple slates would validate the election, I wouldn’t mind running unopposed.

Why Are We At War Against Iraq?

Support our troops and give them praise for risking their lives…because they “didn’t close their blinds”…

Don’t close your blinds . . . . .

The following dialogue is from the story of a wife who served alongside her husband in the Gulf War, and whose son had just inquired as to the reasoning behind the current War in Iraq:

“The other day, my nine year old son wanted to know why we were at war…My husband looked at our son and then looked at me. My husband and I were in the
Army during the Gulf War and we would be honored to serve and defend our Country again today. I knew that my husband would give him a good explanation.
My husband thought for a few minutes and then told my son to go stand in our front living room window.

He said “Son, stand there and tell me what you see?”

“I see trees and cars and our neighbor’s houses.” he replied.

“OK, now I want you to pretend that our house and our yard is the United States of America and you are President Bush.”

Our son giggled and said “OK.”

“Now son, I want you to look out the window and pretend that every house and yard on this block is a different country” my husband said.

“OK Dad, I’m pretending.”
“Now I want you to stand there and look out the window and pretend you see Saddam coming out of his house with his wife, he has her by the hair and is
hitting her. You see her bleeding and crying. He hits her in the face, he throws her on the ground, then he starts to kick her to death.
Their children run out and are afraid to stop him, they are screaming and crying, they are watching this but do nothing because they are kids
and they are afraid of their father. You see all of this, son….what do you do?”

“Dad?”

“What do you do son?”

“I’d call the police, Dad.”

“OK. Pretend that the police are the United Nations. They take your call. They listen to what you know and saw but they refuse to help. What do you do
then son?”

“Dad………. but the police are supposed to help!” My son starts to whine.

“They don’t want to son, because they say that it is not their place or your place to get involved and that you should stay out of it,” my husband says.

“But Dad…he killed her!!” my son exclaims.
“I know he did…but the police tell you to stay out of it. Now I want you to look out that window and pretend you see our neighbor who you’re pretending
is Saddam turn around and do the same thing to his children.”

“Daddy…he kills them?”

“Yes son, he does. What do you do?”

“Well, if the police don’t want to help, I will go and ask my next door neighbor to help me stop him.” our son says.

“Son, our next door neighbor sees what is happening and refuses to get involved as well. He refuses to open the door and help you stop him,”
my husband says.

“But Dad, I NEED help!!! I can’t stop him by myself!!”

“WHAT DO YOU DO SON?” Our son starts to cry.

“OK, no one wants to help you, the man across the street saw you ask for help and saw that no one would help you stop him. He stands taller and puffs
out his chest. Guess what he does next son?”

“What Daddy?”

“He walks across the street to the old ladies house and breaks down her door and drags her out, steals all her stuff and sets her house on fire and
then..he kills her. He turns around and sees you standing in the window and laughs at you. WHAT DO YOU DO?”

“Daddy…”

“WHAT DO YOU DO?” Our son is crying and he looks down and he whispers, “I’d close the blinds, Daddy.”

My husband looks at our son with tears in his eyes and asks him. “Why?”

“Because Daddy…..the police are supposed to help people who needs them…and they won’t help…. You always say that neighbors are supposed to
HELP neighbors, but they won’t help either…they won’t help me stop him…I’m afraid….I can’t do it by myself Daddy…..I can’t look out my window
and just watch him do all these terrible things and…and…..do nothing…so….I’m just going to close the blinds…. so I can’t see what he’s doing
……..and I’m going to pretend that it is not happening.”

I start to cry My husband looks at our nine year old son standing in the window, looking pitiful and ashamed at his answers to my husband’s questions
and he says… “Son”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Open the blinds because that man…. he’s at your front door… “WHAT DO YOU DO?”

My son looks at his father, anger and defiance in his eyes. He balls up his tiny fists and looks his father square in the eyes, without hesitation
he says: “I’LL DEFEND MY FAMILY DAD!! I’M NOT GONNA LET HIM HURT MOMMY OR MY SISTER, DAD!!! I’M GONNA FIGHT HIM, DAD, I’M GONNA FIGHT HIM!!!!!”

I see a tear roll down my husband’s cheek and he grabs our son to his chest and hugs him tight, and says… “It’s too late to fight him, he’s too
strong and he’s already at YOUR front door son…..you should have stopped him BEFORE he killed his wife, and his children and the old lady across
the way. You have to do what’s right, even if you have to do it alone, before it’s too late.” my husband whispers.

THAT scenario I just gave you is WHY we are at war with Iraq. When good men stand by and let evil happen, THAT is the greatest atrocity in the world.”

Back In Missouri

Christmas break is over for me. I arrived back on campus on Sunday night, but that’s a story for later.

Sunday morning, the lower floor of the new building opened, and as impressive as the steeple is, the facilities downstairs are unbelievable. The choir room is massive and the youth suite is definitely much more modern-era than the facilities I grew up around. Parkway’s youth center consisted of one trailer out back of the church with two couches that smelled like pee, eight folding chairs that no longer folded and the wonderful aroma of small animals that crawled under the trailer and routinely died. But the new phase is great for the future of the JCBC youth group. Cool stuff always attracts people and that’s the first goal of any youth group. Add in an awesome youth minister like Jim Walls and the youth group can’t really go anywhere but up.

After church Sunday morning, I went to the airport and boarded my flight to St. Louis. The flight was extremely turbulent, although we landed in Missouri about 15 minutes ahead of schedule, allowing me to get a ride into Columbia an hour earlier. There was about a foot of snow on the ground and it was pouring rain as I arrived back on campus. So I was glad to get up to my room and get warm and dry. I got out my key and promptly put it in the lock and it only went in halfway. I pushed it and it still didn’t go in, so I dumped my bag in Darz’ room and went down to the front desk to get a spare key. That one didn’t go in either so I had to wait 45 minutes for the “Emergency Facilities & Maintenance Team” to arrive and fix the lock. So after an hour back on campus, I got into my room.

Monday was MLK Day, so I slept in until 10 o’clock, grabbed some lunch then headed to the gym. I spent about an hour shooting around, then joined in a basketball game and we played for three hours or so. I grabbed a Powerade then did some light running to cool down.

Tuesday was my first day of classes, and this semester will see Tuesday being my easiest day. I have only two classes, Media Communication (TR, 11.00-11.50) and Business Management (TR, 12.30-1.45). So Tuesdays will allow me to sleep in a little and finish by two. Tomorrow will see me in a English class (MWF, 10.00-10.50) Geography (MWF, 12.00-12.50) and Finance (MWF, 2.00-2.50). I’m looking forward to all of my classes this semester and we’ll see how the GPA responds to that enthusiasm.

Tomorrow features a return to RHA and Comedy Wars, two of my favorite after school activities here. I got to bed by 11.30 last night instead of 1 or 2 so I’m more refreshed than I’ve been in awhile.

I’ll update more later, and other than my daily prayers for Uncle Tom, that’s about it for now.