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qwertyoriginal
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Name: Lydia Erin
Country: United States
State: Illinois
Metro: Chicago
Birthday: 11/11/1985
Gender: Female
Interests: swing dancing, napping, going without shoes, laughing, blowing bubbles, stepping on acorns, looking at stars, smooshing pinecones, coloring, etymology, senses of humor, photography, poetry, admiring art, people, singing, sighing, different cultures, missions work, books-acquiring and consuming them, the One and Only Jesus. . .
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  lydiaeireann48
Member Since:
10/16/2004
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| I miss my roommate.
Come home, Jamie... :(
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| The boy and me.
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| This is my annual post about how bad I am at Xanga. In my effort to redeem myself as a subscriber (and no, I will not go Premium), I now present a hodge-podge of thoughts.
The other day I sat in my room after work listening only to the clock tick. No fan was on, no creaking floorboards downstairs, no music. Just me. And the clock. Then a car drove by outside and ruined the moment--the fleeting moment of the closest thing to complete silence I've experienced in a long, count it, long time. Why is that? Why are we enthralled by noise and repelled by silence? I suppose I shouldn't generalize, but at least in my life there's almost no opportunity to sit in silence without drifting into a doze. Maybe this is one reason prayer is so hard. Even in clock-ticking silence, my brain keeps flipping through the Rolodex of information gathered through the day, be it important (as in trying to remember to bring my Chicago Manual of Style to work tomorrow) or inconsequential (like unconsciously rattling off that ridiculous song Dan quoted on Facebook--no, Dan, I'm not mad at you).
Maybe I'll try to retreat into silence every so often. It feels good.
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Being home is a little bit hard. Most of my friends from high school are gone or busy or not really friends any more. The latter instance is mostly my fault, given that I am scared of getting to know people--or worse, letting them get to know me in a real sense. My sister and I are getting closer, though, which is definitely a good thing. We are six years apart, and though I've always expected her to be older than she is, we are reaching the point in our lives in which we have more in common than we did. Six years doesn't seem like a lot, but when you are graduating high school and your sister is in the beginning stages of middle school, there's a big disconnect.
Last year at Lisa's New Year's party, all of us wrote our resolutions out and exchanged them. I did that once a different year at a different party, and found out by the resolution I drew from the hat that I needed to lose 20 pounds and buy an electric shaver for my beard--I learned a lot about myself that day (I didn't know I had a beard, but apparently I needed electricity's assistance in shaving it). At this particular party, however, the resolution I picked up said, "This year, I resolve to laugh more, cry more, love more, and eat more pie." An apt resolution that ended up describing my year rather well, I think. Strange to have year-end reflections in June.
Until next time, probably 4 months from now (thus, I'm bad at Xanga).
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| I would just like to remind those who would care that Latin has diphthongs, and the phoneme as we know it "v" was not in use in Classical Latin, but rather gradually adjusted from the semivowel "w" or tense high back vowel "u" to the voiced labiodental fricative "v" in Modern Latin.
Yep, just had to get that out.
Thanks :)
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| Goin' East!!
Choir would appreciate your prayers as we go on this tour!
Have a lovely break! :)
Love,
Lydia Erin | | |
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