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Sleep- both the bane and joy of my life!

Am currently rushing to get an essay done.... again! Although this time it's a 'practice' essay which doesn't count for anything and, get this, is optional! Why would they do such a thing! I have little enough motivation to get work done as it is! But thought i'd feel bad if i didn't do it so here i am... Got back from a match (we lost, again!- though was pretty fun this time as we played a lot better), covered in mud from head to foot (literally), we were playing in a bog! At one stage i had to stand still until the whistle went and i sunk in and got stuck! = a lot of sliding and slipping over- great fun! Altho, having just conquered my washing i now have a pile of mud covered clothes to deal with...!

Anyhow, i got back, ate, had a shower and thought to myself i'd get my essay done and then go out with the team for the social... But before that i'd just lie down for a second... (it was 6:40)... at 10pm (!) i was woken by my friend asking whether i wanted to go down with her to where our social was... oops! So here i am, procrastinating, i call it a 'break from my essay', which i have to finish and hand in by tomorrow.... but all the time thinking- i don't actually have to do this... its optional!

Anyhow, i spose i should get on, if anyone has any views on Truffaut's film, Le Dernier Métro, and its portrayal of the occupation years, please do share your views!

Choices

I have been thinking quite a lot lately about choices, big ones but also small ones which seem hardly worth thinking about. But have realised is probably the small ones that make all the difference in the end when all put together…. Am not really making much sense… Anyhow, today read this which seems to sum up some of these choices and their consequences, made me think, it’s obvious from the outcome which is the best choice but if I were to look at my life now which would it seem like I wanted?? It amazes me how sometimes we know the right answer but is just so easy not to choose it! Anyhoo here it is, see what you think….

“Cursed is the strong one
who depends on mere humans,
Who thinks he can make it on muscle alone
and sets God aside as dead weight.
He’s like a tumbleweed on the prairie,
out of touch with the good earth.
He lives rootless and aimless
in a land where nothing grows.”

“But blessed is the man who trusts me, God,
the woman who sticks with God.
They’re like trees replanted in Eden,
putting down roots near the rivers-
Never a worry through the hottest of summers,
never dropping a leaf,
Serene and calm through droughts,
bearing fresh fruit every season.”

How cool would it be to be that second man…!

PS. Just to highlight my utter mankyness- since the ‘washing’ post I haven’t done anymore and have metre high piles of clothes… my wardrobe is almost empty now… so soon going to face a nervous breakdown trying to do this much in one go! Hehe! What a nightmare!

The Vision

Read this in a book I was leant, some of you may have read it, found this bit particularly challenging...

THE VISION

So this guy comes up to me and says "what's the vision? What's the big idea?" I open my mouth and words come out like this…
The vision?
The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.
The vision is an army of young people.
You see bones? I see an army.
And they are FREE from materialism.
They laugh at 9-5 little prisons.
They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday.
They wouldn't even notice.
They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won.
They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations.
They need no passport.. People write their addresses in
pencil and wonder at their strange existence.
They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying.
What is the vision?
The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. It makes children laugh and
adults angry. It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for
the stars. It scorns the good and strains for the best. It is dangerously pure.
Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation.
It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games.
This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.
A million times a day its soldiers
choose to loose
that they might one day win
the great 'Well done' of faithful sons and daughters.
Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don't
need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the
crowds chanting again and again: "COME ON!"
And this is the sound of the underground
The whisper of history in the making
Foundations shaking
Revolutionaries dreaming once again
Mystery is scheming in whispers
Conspiracy is breathing…
This is the sound of the underground
And the army is discipl(in)ed.
Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms.
The tattoo on their back boasts "for me to live is Christ and to die is gain".
Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes.
Winners.
Martyrs.
Who can stop them?
Can hormones hold them back?
Can failure succeed?
Can fear scare them or death kill them ?
And the generation prays
like a dying man
with groans beyond talking,
with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and
with great barrow loads of laughter!
Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.
Whatever it takes they will give:
Breaking the rules.
Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide.
Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs,
laughing at labels, fasting essentials.
The advertisers cannot mould them.
Hollywood cannot hold them.
Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the
cockerel cries.
They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive inside.
On the outside? They hardly care.
They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and
celebrate but never to hide.
Would they surrender their image or their popularity?
They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man
on death row - guilty as hell.
A throne for an electric chair.
With blood and sweat and many tears,
with sleepless nights and fruitless days, they pray as if it all depends on
God and live as if it all depends on them.
Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.)
Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with
Jesus.
Their words make demons scream in shopping centres.
Don't you hear them coming?
Herald the weirdo's!
Summon the losers and the freaks.
Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their
eyes.
They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains
are dwarfed by these children of another dimension.
Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream
of Eden.
And this vision will be. It will come to pass; it will come easily;
it will come soon.
How do I know? Because this is the longing of creation itself,
the groaning of the Spirit, the very dream of God.
My tomorrow is his today.
My distant hope is his 3D.
And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding,
bone-shaking great 'Amen!' from countless angels, from hero's of the faith,
from Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.
Guaranteed.
-Pete Greig//Dave Roberts

Trampy days!

I pray that I am never unemployed for any prolonged period of time once i leave uni! I would become the fattest, lazyest, most useless person in the world! Today, as i'm on reading week, i had no lectures but planned to get up early and get a good lot done on my essay... Instead i missed breakfast and ended up getting up at 11 and changing out of my pyjamas at 3pm! I had a cup of tea and haribo for breakfast and then later a whole load of doritos and dip....! I cant see the floor of my room, have written 357 more words of my essay and am contemplating going out to a club called tequila... However i feel i should stay in and redeem myself from a day of trampyness! Also i would like to place some blame on Cath for my lack of essay writing- how dare she give me a book to read when i'm meant to be concentrating on completing work for a deadline?! (it is a good book though, il give her that...)

P.S. Tiddy would laugh at me but i worry about the well-being of my teeth, i have just finished off my 2nd packet of haribo since last night!

i miss her!

I miss my little, big attitude sis....! I can't wait to act silly and hyper with her at easter!! And steal her clothes, and get told off for how little, or how i apply my makeup! And have someone to fetch a glass of water for me, hehe! Legend!

the wonders of washing...

I have come to the conclusion that the most difficult thing by far when coming to university is washing clothes... firstly you have to have the forethought of saving ridiculous amounts and combinations of 20p and 50p coins, then you have to have remembered to get washing powder (i have not as yet progressed onto the use of fabric conditioner aswel!) Then after at least half an hour of gathering the clothes spread accross your room you have to balance everything all the way to the washing room- at which point you realise you've forgotten your keys to it.... Once in their you have to figure out how you are going to separate them (having heard people talk about 'light' and 'dark' washes) and then the most complicated part of all i find: deciding how hot you should wash the clothes (i must admit im still completely clueless on this aspect) and which compartment the washing powder goes in (why are there 3??? I only have one thing to put in and have only ever heard of one other thing (conditioner) so what is the other one for and how are you meant to know which is which?!)....

Well there you go, that has been the trials of my morning... though far more interesting than the essay i was meant to be doing i feel i may start doing more handwashing... and am well aware of the fact i now have to walk into shops to get another 50p for the dryer in which im apparently not meant to put everything as things will shrink (though i don't know what) and again have to decide on a heat...!

My conclusion is that instead of all the 'essay writing skills' workshops and 'exam technique' ones which no one bothers with, they should put on some more useful ones like 'washing clothes' and for the self catered (i may starve next year!) a 'cooking' workshop....