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:: Monday, September 30, 2002 ::

"One of us needs to stick one's head in a bucket of ice water." (Hobbes)

Mondays are lousy. First of all, they herald a new week in which Not Enough will be accomplished. Secondly, is it ever easy to leave the weekend's freedom to procrastinate? Third, something about Mondays make professors silly, which in turn makes Bethany want to throw bowling balls. I was rescued from the verge of overwhelmed tears tonight by Eric. You should check it out... he might unMondify your day too!

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:: Bethany Bassett - 6:33 PM :: + ::
:: Sunday, September 29, 2002 ::
"Sing to me the song of the stars..." (Switchfoot)

It always astounds me the way "ordinary" people suddenly become all things bright and beautiful through the eyes of affection. I actually don't believe in such a thing as ordinary. Every person has a brilliance unique to him or herself... something amazing that no one else has in the same way. A little bit of love is the only thing needed to transfer "normal" into extraordinary.
How do so many married couples lose their sparkle, like candles burned down into committed ash? Why would life after the "I do" degenerate? Call me idealistic, unrealistic, naive -- and maybe I am -- but I think each day would be a beautiful opportunity to learn more about my spouse. And who wouldn't wake up smiling, validated by unconditional love? So I am growing more bohemian every day... I kind of think Jesus was a bohemian.
Maybe the problem in part is when people marry according to Things Held In Common. You can find commonalities with any living thing on the planet -- the queen of England, Jose down the street, the nearest amoeba -- but the long shelf-life comes with speaking the same language. Wait... what do I know? Maybe I should wait to have opinions on functional relationships, say, until I'm actually in one.
I have been out of bed only 3 hours today, and those were spent "lying" on our smallish couch. Utter unproductivity is crowding the airwaves... I hate being sick. It makes me feel like a blot upon the earth, a hindrance to the wellbeing of mankind, a disgrace to intelligent society. I sometimes wish I could be admitted to the hospital, just so I wouldn't feel so guilty for not being Superwoman.
Three-methuselajillion things to be done, pounding head hopefully still attached, when all I want to do is curl up with someone and just be.....
My words, plagiarized before their conception by Over the Rhine:
"And if you need my attention,
Be bizarre,
Feel free to ignore convention,
It's alright,
And if it's a matter of permission,
You can do me harm --
I wouldn't miss it for the world.
And if you call my name,
Call it again,
My mind's been known to wonder,
Call it again,
You know I've been waiting for this
Since God knows when --
I wouldn't miss it for the world."

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:: Bethany Bassett - 6:29 PM :: + ::
:: Saturday, September 28, 2002 ::
"What would you give to get away?" (Train)

I'm infatuated with driving in East Texas; blue and green and sun are so much more here.
The latest assignment in my social psych class is to do something against the "social norm" and turn the experience into a coherent paper. This is quite possibly the hardest assignment I have ever faced. I am a huge advocate of being spontaneous and crazy, but deviant behavior is something entirely... deviant. At the malicious suggestion of a friend, and with a rather scant supply of courage, I went shopping at the Tyler mall -- carrying an umbrella. It was hilarious how many people pretended nothing was out of the ordinary, even when I struck up conversations or asked them to hold the umbrella over my head. Maybe I should be deviant more often... I'm sure it builds character somehow.
What is the strangest thing you've ever done in public?

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:: Bethany Bassett - 4:16 PM :: + ::
:: Friday, September 27, 2002 ::
"In the end, it doesn't even matter..." (Linkin Park)

The entire world is discouraged tonight. Friday night, teeming with wanderers... Finding out that grades are not analogous to studying, that time and relationships don't always equate, that no amount of wishing can stop bullets from entering the man down the street...
I wish I could cheer everyone up. I am, after all, responsible for the world. However, I just had 4 cups of IHOP coffee with butter-pecan syrup -- twice as many as usually knock me out. Moving through molasses with weak knees and heavy eyes... Please smile, if only because someone loves you.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 11:25 PM :: + ::
:: Thursday, September 26, 2002 ::
"Anything can happen." (Querida)
Today was very ambiguous. I walked to class with Burns, so the first two things I heard this morning were "Hi Bethany!" and "Today is Stupid Thursday!" Yes, indeed. My 12:00 class strangely lost priority to naptime, and then Querider and I invaded Wal-Mart, Tuesday Morning, Target, and... um, Wal-Mart.
I had Plans for Later, but alas, these counted chickens did not hatch. Instead, I found myself answering the phone for Common Grounds after it had been ringing for 5 minutes.
Me: Hello?
Lady: Finally! I need to place an order.
Me: I'm sorry, but Common Grounds doesn't open until 8.
Lady: I don't want to have to call back! Just take my order.
Me: I don't even work here, Ma'am, and like I said...
Lady: Just write it down.
Me: I don't work here, but you can call back at 8.
Lady: That is so very late. That is much too late!
Me: I'm sorry Ma'am, I didn't make the rules.
Lady: How ridiculous. Why would I want to call back if it takes you so long to pick up?
Me: That's because I don't...
[Dial tone]
What would life be if not for weird and unexpected moments? Here's hoping for today's speedy exit and for a good surprise tomorrow.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 9:54 PM :: + ::
:: Wednesday, September 25, 2002 ::
"Life's just a waste of our time..." (Jack Johnson)

College is making me stupid.
"Of making many books there is no end,
And much study is wearisome to the flesh." ~Ecc. 12:12

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:: Bethany Bassett - 7:24 PM :: + ::
:: Tuesday, September 24, 2002 ::
"I hate to [blog] you in the middle of dinner..." (Alanis)

The Rules:
1. Read the 3 poems listed below. Understanding optional.
2. Put your creative genius to work by matching poems to poets.
3. Options are: Querida Stafford, Bethany Smith, and Edgar Allan Poe.
4. Comment with your guess, but ONLY if....
5. You include a poem of your own writing.
Let the games begin!

~*~*~*~*~
Once upon a midnight dreary,
While I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious
Volume of forgotten lore--
While I nodded, nearly napping,
Suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping,
Rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered,
"Tapping at my chamber door--
Only this and nothing more."
(Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!")

~*~*~*~*~

~*~*~*~*~
Who can measure the worth
Of an exquisite delusion?
Only a dream,
A precious nonentity,
Softer than sleep,
Softly unreal.
Slipping into enchantment,
Falling in love with words
And worlds and kindred spirits
Beyond the realm of hope.
Divine coquetry intermixed with
So many sighs and tear-stained joys;
Wishes being discovered
On a star too bright to believe.
You are delight and disappointment,
Discovery and daydreams,
The reason for wishful thinking,
Radiant, sweet despair.
Countless times I have crawled
Into the shelter of your words,
Beautiful, stark,
Untainted by what's common.
You awoke my head,
You awoke my senses,
You awoke whatever quiet place
So much life was hidden away.
If only you knew my inspiration
Is engraved with the image of your soul.
Smile that unfolds the edges
Of something too deep to touch,
On a face I dared not dream
I could even hope to see.
Kindness imprinted in eyes
I've read so many times before.
You are beautiful,
So beautiful,
Made for life and love,
But transcending them both.
I know you more than you know;
I love you more than I know.
I blew a kiss to divinest dreams;
Oh, but will it come to you?

~*~*~*~*~

~*~*~*~*~
You don't know me,
You don't live my life,
You don't wear these shoes,
Or cry these tears,
So you don't know me.
I never wanted to change the world,
Just you --
Make you love me,
Let you hold me
Like you always did in my head,
Where you always were.
I've got all these great love songs
Running through my head,
And I have no idea why any are there;
But suddenly I realize
That none of them reminds me of you.
And these words,
They're streaming from my fingers
Before I can arrange them intelligibly in my head.
And it's freeing,
And it's exhilarating,
And it's peaceful,
And it's tragic.
Because suddenly, quite suddenly,
I don't miss loving you anymore.
The oddest thing is that
It doesn't even feel odd
To not be warmed by the thought of your smile,
To not be me, the girl who loves that guy,
To not be me, the child who cries herself to sleep every night,
To not feel that the whole of me belongs to you.
Suddenly there is just me,
And my pen and my paper and the re-runs on TV,
And I don't feel like I'm missing anything special
Just cause you're not here;
Because suddenly, quite suddenly,
Just me is just fine.

~*~*~*~*~

The End.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 4:24 PM :: + ::
:: Sunday, September 22, 2002 ::
"Suppose I said..." (John Mayer)

Have you ever known something was wrong, but not been able to wrap years of analyses around it?
"I am on my best behavior..."

Have you ever let little things grow too high, too fast, and choke you out...
"And there are times I lose my worried mind..."

...when you most wanted to be yourself?
"Would you want me when I'm not myself?"

Have you ever hated the juxtaposition of dreams and reality, not seeing the difference, but knowing it exists?
"Wait it out while I am someone else?"

Have you ever loved something forbidden, then realized forbidden is a state of mind?
"Suppose I said you're my saving grace?"

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:: Bethany Bassett - 3:22 PM :: + ::
:: Saturday, September 21, 2002 ::
"Something infinitely interesting..." (Incubus)

This is frightening and wonderful. Knock yourselves out.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 11:16 AM :: + ::
:: Friday, September 20, 2002 ::
"Sitting still as stone, watching..." (DMB)

"One day we might see,
Doing not a thing,
Breathing just to breathe,
We might find some reason."

The weather is delicious today, light and fresh and smiling. It smells exactly like it did when I first came to LU. So much has happened since then.
Nostalgia reminds me that I am less of a person. Sensations become more cluttered the older I grow, more loaded with memories and regrets and so much imbedded in the ghost of Bethanys past. I need new memories, something to redeem the stray touch of breeze, something to turn the fragrance of grass under bare feet into a warehouse of beautiful thoughts.
It's impossible not to feel anticipation on days like today, when blue is overwhelmed by sky. The thrill of autumn is tingling in my veins. I wish I could be part of the Outdoors. Yellow butterflies and healthy leaves and so very much life to be lived...
"Rushing around seems what's wrong with the world;
Don't lose the dreams inside your head."

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:: Bethany Bassett - 1:22 PM :: + ::
"Look at this big-eyed fish..." (DMB)

Today, you should definitely relieve stress.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 8:54 AM :: + ::
:: Thursday, September 19, 2002 ::
"I figure I can describe it since I have a choice in the matter..." (Alanis Morissette)

Would you hold pinkies with me?
Would you mind too many piercings, all my little rebellions?
Would you run through the sprinklers for the fun of disobeying convention?
Would you stay up to 4 a.m. just to talk?
Would you love children, devote your life to making lives beautiful?
Would you watch chick flicks, even though they're, you know, chick flicks?
Would you smile first thing in the morning?
Would you understand me, even when I made no sense?
Would you encourage me?
Would you let me be addicted to the concept of romance?
Would you think in 4-D?
Would you be spontaneous, but consistent above all?
Would your jaw drop and your eyes light up when I glided down a staircase?
Would you play with my hair without being asked?
Would you kiss my eyelids while I slept?
Would you save me from initiative?
Would you help me cook dinner, start a food fight?
Would you pray for me when I didn't know?
Would you sweep me off my feet?
Would you read me to sleep when I was sick?
Would you always put your socks in the laundry basket?
Would you take me to feed the ducks?
Would you hug me when I cried?
Would you hug me as you drifted off to sleep?
Would you hug me if we had just fought?
Would you redeem this tired notion of love?

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:: Bethany Bassett - 9:03 AM :: + ::
:: Wednesday, September 18, 2002 ::
"Maybe she's just pieces of me you've never seen..." (Tori Amos)

I skipped 2 classes today and feel so very devious. I love how soft my hair is... it's like consolation for being up much too late for the second night in a row. I approve heartily of the big, red "Education Victim" poster on our wall, a crazed face with a pencil stuck through the brain. Self-portrait?
I wish I was a college-brochure student today. I want to wear black shoes and new jeans, and lovingly carry the textbooks I can't stand to imprison in my backpack. I want to sit on jeweled grass in a cluster of equally-pretty men and women, fresh and rosy from learning. I want to wear blue and gold, cheering in perfect unison with the rest of our campus at a basketball game. I want to decorate my dorm entirely from a Container Store catalogue. Mmmm, I love the idea behind higher education.
My thoughts on the stark reality are something more like this: "Hate school. Hate hate. Why do we need to know this? Why? More homework... as if I didn't have enough to do already. Maybe our bodies are supposed to produce their own crack so that we can fulfill our professors' expectations and live without sleep. Hate."
I am not pessimistic, really. Life without the Stuff is breezy and beautiful. I just can't help thinking that this sporadic stress is not what God intended... (Ecc. 2:23-24)

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:: Bethany Bassett - 2:32 AM :: + ::
:: Tuesday, September 17, 2002 ::
"Lock all the doors and turn out the lights..." (John Mayer)

Why do I analyze so much? (And yes, I fully realize the irony in that question.) Why do most of my conversations never actually take place? Why do most relationship stages play out in my brain? And why the hell am I always left to pick all things existing and non from the atomsphere? My encoding filters are spent from working overtime basically my whole life.
I wish I had an off-switch. I wish I could sit back and greet Life As It Comes with a cheery smile and lemonade. There's no fun in situations when I've already lived every possible outcome...
"The volume's down,
Blue lights are dancing around,
And still I can't seem to find
The quiet inside my mind."

In other news, I am a walking anomaly tonight [this morning]. Picture a bright orange "Rusty" t-shirt, Christmas-flavored plaid pants, and fuzzy leopard-print slippers. Yes.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 3:16 AM :: + ::
:: Monday, September 16, 2002 ::
"ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING" (My t-shirt, with a bulldog wearing sunglasses)

Crap. Sometimes one word can describe one's expectations for a day, and today, that word is Crap. Just when life is at its height of busyness, a jillion new things pop their shiny heads around the corner.
"Bethany, I need you to come fill out some forms before your next class."
"Bethany, we need you to set up a meeting for us ASAP."
"Bethany, you're going to be at the football game tonight, right?"
"Bethany, you're going to be at band practice tonight, right?"
"Bethany, go check your CPO; I put some papers in there for you to look over."
"Bethany, I'm home sick and need you to teach my class this afternoon."
"Bethany, you'll need to go get 3 signatures before lunch so we can process this form."
"Bethany, you'll be able to finish critiquing the last 15 papers before class today, right?"
::sound of air rapidly departing balloon::
"Hey hey, I will [hopefully] survive..."

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:: Bethany Bassett - 1:03 PM :: + ::
:: Sunday, September 15, 2002 ::
"Come on in..." (Coldplay)

"I've gotta tell you
What a state i'm in
I've gotta tell you in my loudest tone
That I started looking for a warning sign
When the truth is I miss you
Yeah the truth is that i miss you so."

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:: Bethany Bassett - 8:53 PM :: + ::
"In the blur of serenity, where did everything get lost?" (Nine Inch Nails)

I visited a new church today... *sigh*
Pastor asking in a solemn voice, "Is the kingdom of God better because you're in it? What kind of witness are you being? Which Jesus are you following -- the real one, or the one you've created?" I get the impression we are all supposed to feel ashamed, flooded with conviction over our requisite lukewarmness. Pastor continues, "I know these are tough questions, but Jesus wouldn't ask you any easier ones. Are you enhancing the kingdom or inhibiting it? Take a look inside, and I think you'll find the answer. ::shakes head sadly::"
So now I feel guilty for not feeling guilty. I know how deeply I love God. I know how I try to live every moment for Him. I know I haven't reached the nirvana-land of perfect Christianity, but I'm doing my best. Should I still feel convicted when the pastor "tsk-tsk"s?
One thing that bothers me is the way so many pastors preach time and time again on how you can't be lukewarm, how you can't give God only part of yourself, how you should have led more people to Christ, etc, etc, ad nauseum. Apologies for the psych talk, but I think preaching about that keeps the congregation at that place of uncertainty.
What if pastors quit making people doubt their own faith? What if sermons were meat rather than skim milk? What if people were learning about God's heart rather than their own failings? What if they were discovering ways to live their beliefs rather than wallowing in doubtful guilt? What if pastors would lead their congregations somewhere rather than pinning them into weak Christianity?
So many church members, looking up at the Reverend General with gullibility in their eyes, thinking, "Oh yes, I must be lukewarm, oh yes, I guess I probably made up my own Jesus too. God, help me not do that anymore." At least not until the next sermon.
Focusing on the negative is the worst way to reach the positive. Looking down never helped anyone climb upward. Why should we search inside ourselves for the solution to things far beyond us? Why should we focus on ourselves, our actions, our shortcomings? How will that help us live for God? Hebrews 12 says something, if I recall, about "looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith."
Please, pastors, don't try to keep us as infant Christians, so convinced of our inabilities that we can't grow. Help us focus instead on God, pushing onward, refusing to look back and wallow in the ways we didn't measure up.
Oh heavens. Can I not just listen to a sermon without arguing?

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:: Bethany Bassett - 2:39 PM :: + ::
:: Friday, September 13, 2002 ::
"So much to say, so much to say, so much to say..." (DMB)

Today, your job is to leave a highly random and insightful comment with no correlation to this blog entry whatsoever.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 7:49 PM :: + ::
:: Thursday, September 12, 2002 ::
"Celebrate we will, because life is short but sweet for certain..." (DMB)

My last entry was yesterday's sentiments, which should probably have never been unearthed. Today has been light and flavorful... not enough to intoxicate, but sufficient for sunlit walks, breeze stirring Herbal Essenced hair. I'm going to drop one of the offending classes; I can feel the stress melting.
At the bidding of Dr. Sheafer, our entire Social Psych class of 20-something took a ride in the new elevator (yeah, at the same time). The experience was frightening and hilarious and exhilarating, particularly when the elevator broke. So maybe I do love psychology.
Today's the perfect day for lying on the floor, watching sunlight rush through the blinds and flirt with our Wall 'o Hats...... for playing flag football with black war-paint and pigtails...... for soaking in Dave Matthews with peanut-butter-fudge ice cream...... for knowing that I could hug the world if only my arms were a little longer.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 3:51 PM :: + ::
"There's no such thing as the real world..." (John)

I had a rather depressing revelation the other day in Spanish class. Professor Seeger asked, "¿A qué hora es tu clase favorita?" I couldn't answer. I don't like any of my classes this year.
I am an entirely visual learner; I learn next to nothing when I'm only hearing information. The lecture format is the worst possible for me. However, all my classes this semester consist solely of professors droning on and on and on. And on. It amazes me how very long 80 minutes can be when sitting in a chalk-colored classroom listening to irrelevant information that never ends.
I'm always tempted to run out screaming, "I can't take this anymore! I refuse to be a victim of education any longer! End, oppression! Open, prison gates! Let me learn and grow and discover, but good heavens, please don't make me go to class!"
One professor in particular is obviously wooed by the sound of his own voice. After talking for 1-1/2 hours about something we will never use, how can he possibly wonder why we are all asleep? Without fail, I leave his classes with the firm conviction I have been wasting my time. I do not want to turn into the man, so I will never get anything out of his classes. I am constantly asking, "Why do I need to know this?" In his lectures, I am constantly answering, "I don't."
"Blessed is the man who, having nothing to say, abstains from giving wordy evidence of the fact." ~George Eliot (props to Dan for also using this quote this week... more people should be aware of it.

My dream is to spend the rest of my life helping people; thus, my major is psychology. However, the useful things I'm learning are far outweighed by all the psychobabble and meaningless/ridiculous theories being taught. Why spend 3 sessions on proximal processes of development? When am I ever going to use it in this life?
So much stating the obvious... agonizing hours of study to confuse ourselves over issues of common sense. [blatant stereotype] Psychologists are so stupid. [/blatant stereotype] What, pray tell, is the point in comparing 15 theories on why victims of tragedy often exhibit sadness? I want to learn practical ways to help people. Apparently, such is not the aim of psychology.
I want to be a petroleum engineer. I want to be a neuro-surgeon. I want to be a politician. I want to be an archeologist. I want to be a cowboy, baby!
Thanks for letting me vent.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 7:49 AM :: + ::
:: Wednesday, September 11, 2002 ::
"Pardon me while I burst into flames..." (Incubus)

So, it's September 11. The day for the resurgence of fad patriotism. The day for renewed outbursts against the Muslims. The day to patronize victims of the WTC, not out of love, but out of duty. The day for countless people to pray for the sole reason that they're "supposed to." It is, after all, the one-year anniversary.
Will some people's prayers be sincere? Sure they will. But that doesn't make their motivation any more noble. I'm cringing to think of how many millions America will spend today on memorial services. I would have admired LeTourneau so much more if it had sent the money spent on 2500 balloons to a relief fund for Afghanistan. It's almost like the lives of the WTC victims were given so that we could have another excuse for a holiday, another excuse to feel self-righteous, another excuse to feel good as we link arms and sing, "God bless America..."
No, I'm not going to chapel today either.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 7:28 AM :: + ::
:: Tuesday, September 10, 2002 ::
"Waves roll in my thoughts..." (Pearl Jam)

This blog inspired by Unquerida's questions:
"What is your biggest fear..."

Slipping into comfort, mediocrity, conventionality, the norm, etc. Not doing the things I dream about. Passing opportunities by. Listening only to practicality. Growing old. Looking back on relationships with more regret than joy.
"...and how can you go about making you its biggest fear?"

I'm naturally intimidating. Grrrrrr...
By the way, two wonderful friends fixed Toby yesterday for free. God is good.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 7:13 AM :: + ::
:: Monday, September 09, 2002 ::
"The troubles of my heart have enlarged..." (Ps. 25:17)

I had many adventures tonight with my car. Toby began to clunk uproariously and then kaputed. I feel rather like a Mommy whose only child is unexplainably and spastically ill. However, God is good -- I could have been by myself, but Eliot and Querida were with me and helped to push Toby out of the road. He could have broken in a busy intersection, but the evil happened on a country road, practically empty at 8:20 p.m. We could have been stranded in a terrible, ghetto part of town, but we were able to leave the car in the well-lit parking lot of a Christian nursing home, the workers of which offered to keep watch until I could come back. We are all ok, and that's what matters most.
I called Dad to let him know, and he nonchalantly told me about Mom's car breaking down and my brother's truck being broadsided on Friday. Both Mom and Zach are fine, but I'm convinced Dad should not drive the van for awhile. After hearing all the vehicular troubles and realizing that 10-20 hours of work had just been added to my schedule, I was bordering on the overwhelmed. However, what do I have to be upset about? God has yet to forget about me or let me down. Life would be too mundane without having to occasionally question whether or not I'll survive, right?
"Oh, I could sing unending songs
Of how You saved my soul;
Well, I could dance a thousand miles
Because of Your great love..." ~Delirious?

I'll wax philosophical one of these days, but tonight, you got a piece of Life According to Bethany. Frightening? Bewildering? Stay tuned for reader responses...

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:: Bethany Bassett - 12:55 AM :: + ::
:: Saturday, September 07, 2002 ::
"No hello, and no goodbye..." (Nick Drake)

Spent this evening at my old roommate's wedding reception. Perhaps it's just me, but it is rather disillusioning to see friends united to each other in holy matrimony. I was there when Laura and Jesse met, and I've had pretty direct contact with their romantic journey all along. However, "I can't believe they're married!" keeps repeating in my head like a scratched CD. I can't believe they're married.
Was lovely to see Laura in her dress, and the new band of gold on Jesse's finger, but the most enjoyable aspects of the evening were the car trips to and from Nacogdoches. Someone suggested the game "Girl Talk," in which a question is posed and all group members must answer as fully as possible. Thus ensued 2+ hours of interesting, meaningful conversation. It made me re-realize the importance of listening and the value of friends who I may not know very well yet.
Tomorrow you should come up with an interesting question and pose it to every person you see. Then listen.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 11:42 PM :: + ::
:: Friday, September 06, 2002 ::
"Wish I could with all my might
Grab the stars in the night..." (Bob Schneider... just for you, Querida)


The latter half of my day was good, but this morning was more entertaining. For others, at least.
I schlumped around campus with a sweatshirt, red nose, and pocket full of vitamin C's. My quiet time got substituted with a fitful nap, and I had to skip two classes for fear of my head exploding onto my classmates... Me being Bethany Smith and possessing a whole separate conscience for productivity, I felt horrid. At the most schlumpish moment, a well-meaning photographer immortalized me walking in front of a prestigious dorm. Great.
I'm pretty sure all this was a result of me going to bed early last night (11:18... I know!). After nearly 8 hours of sleep, I ended up disjointed, disgruntled, and dysfunctional. And rather diseased. Back to my 5.5 hour regimen.
Oh, and speaking of numbers, I had 8 meetings today. I am tempted to rant about the typical purpose of such meetings (doubtful), the length of such meetings (agonizing), and the outcome of such meetings (nothing), but my typing energy would be better spent over Social Psychology.
"Falling asleep to the sound of silence..." -- I mean, "Hooray for work!"

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:: Bethany Bassett - 12:16 AM :: + ::
:: Wednesday, September 04, 2002 ::
"Maybe I got a problem, but that's not what I wanted to say..." (Elliot Smith)

I don't consider myself a poet by any stretch of the imagination. I love the emotion of poetry, but would never admit to writing it... Until I was inspired by Dr. Farrell's Bible class last fall. I probably earned great eternal rewards on those days when I was able to stay alert, much less pay attention. Many works of art (and kitsch) were byproducts of that class, including this semi-epic haiku (published here by popular demand):
~*~*~

Bible class is tough.
I’m reining in my horse of
Negativity.

I am very tired.
Bible class is time for sleep?
Unfortunately not.

Someone’s stomach is
Singing out a symphony,
Drowning Hobert’s voice.

My famous question –
Why do we have to know this?
God, help me be good.

Air conditioner
Drones above his senile voice.
Deliverance, please!

Ten long minutes left.
Jesus helps me to survive
When I think I won’t.

~*~*~


P.S. - The "Unfortunately not" line is meant to be read with slurred speech, so as to effectively ignore syllabic discrepancies.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 8:14 PM :: + ::
:: Tuesday, September 03, 2002 ::
"No ovaries, no opinion!"

So I've been all cheery and domestic tonight. I feel like I should be wearing a red-checkered dress, hair up in rag-curlers. Hanging curtains, installing light fixtures, trying to sweep like Cinderella (humming as I caress the floor with my broom and the dirt flies away in a chorus line)... I love to clean. My roommates love that I love to clean. I love that they love it. It's a good situation all around.
Oh, and those of you staying away due to our 90 degree inferno -- we have a brand new, fully functional A/C. Our characters will no longer be built through this particular tribulation, but at least we won't have to swelter any longer.
Roomie and I took a therapeutic trip to Goodwill earlier; for under $10, we got:
* Hawaiian shirt from the maternity section
* Blue and orange "Sugar" shirt with useless pocket on sleeve
* Matching "White Oak Roughnecks" tees (may I mention how much I enjoy being able to shop in the little boy's section?)
* "Southfork Ranch" t-shirt with 2 happy cows and 1 happy horse on the front. On the back are the words "hcnaR krofhtuoS" and the rear ends of said happy cows and happy horse.
* "East Texas Mule Riders Association" t-shirt
* Shirt with train motif - Front: "Conjunction Junction" Back: "What's your function?" (Being nerds, there was no resisting)
* "Air Jesus: The Ultimate High!" featuring Jesus slam-dunking the earth, robes streaming behind in mad oblivion
* Yellow t-shirt with words across the front: "This t-shirt is done in Braille - Please read gently" Note: It is generally against the natures of both Sarah and I to buy something like this, but could we possibly be expected to just leave it at Goodwill? Yeah, I didn't think so.
* 6 stoneware coffee mugs (so much cuter than it sounds)
* Large turquoise goblet with no purpose beyond entertainment
Next trip, we will actually splurge on the Most Hideous Dresses Conceived by Mortal Man, instead of just giggling over them. If everyone knew about Goodwill, I'm convinced that the counseling industry would fall dramatically. Nothing in the world is quite as exhilarating as spending pocket change on a treasure trove of other people's rejects.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 11:02 PM :: + ::
"Gravity, hypocrisy, and the perils of being in 3-D..." (Incubus)

For Your Information, my commenting system is experiencing TDs. If you need to vent, my inbox is waiting with arms wide open.

P.S. - So sorry for these last 2 entries. I promise that as soon as I get some sleep, I'll update properly. G'night mates...

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:: Bethany Bassett - 12:38 AM :: + ::
:: Sunday, September 01, 2002 ::
"Champagne supernova in the sky..." (Oasis)

Sleep is overrated.

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:: Bethany Bassett - 3:16 AM :: + ::

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