senior apathy

The Sanchez family is thoroughly stressed out. Jon has been spending his week first at a massive education job fair then suffering the mixed blessing of being called back for an interview. I have been working full days, early mornings, late nights. I have a first draft of a paper due Monday, which I have two pages of research to contribute. Really two pages of scripture references that need to be researched. We need a break but are instead looking ahead to one last month of school work. The beginning of May will signal our release from a year of us both being in school, a year that is showing its wear.

My senior year of college I had multiple conversations with my rooommate Becca about being apathetic. Overachievers our whole lives, we were both trying to the learn the skill of second best. We weren't good at it and were better at convincing ourselves we didn't care anymore. On finals week, with most everything else done, I woke up early every morning to read philosophy. The class was studies on epistemology, the study of knowing or how we are able to know. I had arranged to take the class credit/no credit so earning a good grade wasn't really an option. I just needed to pass. Still I woke up early and read and prepared.

And now, I can't get myself to research. I talk about the paper I'm working on. I think about it. I can't get myself to sit down and do the work, though. I want to ask of my professor what Max on "Rushmore" asked the principal. "Couldn't we let me just slide by, for old time's sake?" I want to be done with seminary. I want to come home from work and not have one more nagging responsibility. I think I would be content with being a really good part time housewife. Part time because with no babies I have to keep my day job. For a while there I was getting pretty good at delegating chores to myself.

I guess I need to remain hopeful. I told Jon we would eventually look back on these years as the best. He disagreed. Our best years, he said, will come when we are dead. There will be good things in all of these years: school, church, kids, jobs, retirement. But the best is yet to come beyond it all. So I am stressed. I am struggling and I'm hopeful. Still, I could use a little kick in the pants. Get back to work, Lynette. You're not going to get an A in blogging.

easter monday

This morning I ate a few bites of a fabulous brownie concoction and found myself saying, "He is risen indeed." Why else would I be eating sweets on a Monday? Now that Lent is officially over, I can take a few minutes to reflect. And to be honest it was kind of lame. At least, I was pretty lame about it this year. Giving up sweets for the third year running didn't prove to be a great challenge. It was the positive aspects, the adding somethings, that sucked. I did minimal reflecting and writing and reading. But it was good to see some resurrection hope in the past week. I got to have three conversations about ministry with three different people with whom I am in ministry. I read the Bible some and prayed some. I did much of what Travis did in his latest post, confessing I've been a bad friend. And it was so sweet to have a prayer rise out of me, which I have not earnestly prayed for four years. Having breathed a sigh I heard myself says, "Overwhelm us...with Your love." I learned that prayer when I was attending Westminster Chapel in London my junior year of college. I had since forgotten it and it came as a surprise from my own lips. And it has been my hope these past couple of days that God can reteach me and remind me of his love and work in my life.

This week is Spring Break at the Sanchez house. Jon has commenced the week long event by bidding for and winning a top loading NES + 8 games and cleaning kit on Ebay. He wanted me to tell you. I'm getting odds and ends done, thinking about teaching 3-year-olds about the Church, and heading to work in about half an hour (because the coffee grinder is not going to deep clean itself).

Season Finale

I haven't been studying. I have been watching a lot of TV. Jon and I just finished the sixth disc and last episode of "Freaks and Geeks." When I queued the first disc on netflix, I was relying on the opinion of someone at work who said I would enjoy it. Well, they had either said I would enjoy it or snottily rebuked me for not having seen it yet. But my initial tie to the show comes from Kim Kolnik, a friend from high school. She had actually auditioned to be in the show while down in Chicago. From what I heard the people in line for the auditions were more freak than the show required. So, I suppose I've been wanting to watch this series for roughly nine years. Sheesh.
Going into it I expected a mix between "The Wonder Years" and "My So-Called Life." I was determined to like it, so that when the third disc left Jon and I completely disappointed, I sabotaged our plan to stop watching by continuing to queue disc after disc. Oops. I was immediately aware that what Wonder Year and My So-Called Life had as a crucial element was entirely lacking here. There was not introductory or continuing monologue in the episodes, so instead of getting into main character, Lindsay's head we only see her reacting without much thought. There are slight moments with her brother and boyfriend when she begins to open up, talking about the death of her grandmother as the motivation for her spiral into freakdom, but she quickly cuts herself off. It was as if the writers had only gone so far to plan her behavioral actions and had not looked into her motivations. So she ends up shrugging a lot and saying, "I don't know...blah blah, teenager." And the scene falls flat. In the first few episodes I kept saying, I need to hear what she's thinking. I want a narrator telling me what is going on.

What kept Jon and I watching were, respectively, the geeks and Lindsay's relationship with lanky drummer, Nick. Jon wasn't a geek in high school. At least I don't think. He played football, after all. But he liked how that thought, interacted with each other, spent their time. The geeks recalled for me why I love working with junior highers. So terribly awkward and for that so lovable. As for Nick, it was the absolute commitment of a high school crush. Again, the awkwardness, but more so how genuinely he went after her. How he fumbled and then a bit how she used his devotion while remaining undecided. More shrugs and small bits of dialogue from Lindsay again show the weakness of her character. At the same time I spent time in high school being that girl, using some poor teenage boy's devotion to my advantage=self-esteem and smashing pumpkins tickets. I have since repented.

There were very few episodes that were strong in plot, and in the end it was the cast of quirky characters whom we loved. After the finale, we discussed who we would miss and how we were curious to see how some would end up. I suggested "Freaks and Geeks: The Technical College Years," but concluded that all's well that ends awkwardly.

The funny part is, I really didn't enjoy high school. I spent the end of it waiting for college. I figured I'd have more intelligent conversations in college. I would learn about whatever I wanted and finally be in charge of my own education. Partially true. Nonetheless, I ate up this series with all the high school cliques and cliches. And I think it was mostly because they were people I wanted to relate to and be around. Partly it was TV and not homework.

Chain Mail

When I was in elementary school a friend invited me into this chain mail...let's call it enterprise. It was a well developed system where you are invited in and subsequently have to send postcards to five or so different people. If you know me, you know I have a hard time remembering my childhood, so most of these facts could be wrong. Anyway, you send five postcards and end up getting like 25 back from all over the country. I agreed to do it and lazily sent out the cards. I didn't write much on them and didn't bother to get cool postcards to send. This backfired on me when I began receiving postcards from all over, cool postcards with little stories about who the people were and what they did. I guess I didn't quite understand the excitement and openness with which one should pursue such an endeavor. Since then I've denied access into an underwear chain mail and some sort of bread in a bag chain (sorry Katie). But today I may redeem myself just a little.

Brandon Barker was kind enough to tag me in something called 123, Meme. Here's the rules:

123 Meme Rules: (1) Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more. No cheating! (2) Turn to page 123. (3) Find the first 5 sentences. (4) Post the next 3 sentences. (5) Tag 5 people.

Here's what I found:

Once a work has been cited in full, subsequent references to it should be shortened in form. These forms are fully discussed and illustrated in 8.84-96.
BOOKS
First, Full Reference
8.23 With some exceptions, such references to legal, classical, and biblical works and to certain classes of public documents (see chapter 12), information in notes citing a published work for the first time is given in the sequence indicated in 8.24-5.

8.24 For a book, the first, full reference should include the following information in the order shown:
Name of author(s)
Title and (if any) subtitle
Name of Editor, compiler, or translator, if any
Number or name of edition, if other than first
Name of series in which book appears, if any, with volume or number in the series
Facts of publication, consisting of
Place of publication
Name of publishing agency
Date of publication
Page number(s) of the specific citation

Wow. That was horribly boring and taken from A Manual for Writers of Term Papers, Theses, and Dissertations by Kate L. Turabian. You kind of wish you hadn't tagged me, huh, Brandon? Or that my computer wasn't in the dining room, while most books are kept in the living room. Interesting books, too. It does go to show that I'm still a graduate student, even though I'm barely working on my papers. A couple interesting facts about this book and its relationship to my studies: For one class this was the only assigned reading, and we were assigned portions of it to read. Come on profession, you're not kidding anyone. Also, in the seminary a couple professors have the bad habit to calling the author, Katie. Her name is Kate and more so Kate L. Turabian. Just another subtle hint of the chauvinism that is prevalent in my school. To our own fault, Jon and I have called the same author Turbabeian.

As for tagging 5 people. I'll go with: Sarah Albertson, the Tramels (that's four people really, but I would be interested in what Ivy is reading), Tim Ryder, Allison Jackson, and Andrea Schmidt (because she has all but abandoned her blog but is always reading).

Lenten Posting

Where to begin.* It's just about halfway through Lent. My intention was to post quite frequently as I fasted and added different things to my life during lent, Lenten Life. For the third year, Jon and I are giving up sweets. After pancake day I gave our friend Danny our half used bottle of Nutella. Jon gives up sweets because I do. He also gave up video games and anything video game related and added reading through the Bible. I was meant to add reflecting in the form of journaling and letter writing and possibly blogging. Instead I have added 30 Rock Season 1 and fasted from research for my class. Bah. Not the Lent I had planned. One thing we're trying is the breaking of the fast on Sundays. Until now I have felt like this is cheating. I don't think good Catholics do it. But our pastor seemed to be promoting it, so we've been taking full advantage. I made devil's food cupcakes with ganache two weeks ago and a key lime pie this past Sunday. As well as giving me a chance to expand my baking knowledge, the Sunday break is also a tangible celebration of the Resurrection and a superficial piece of hope during the week. "This week's been hard, but Sunday's coming."

One thought I can't dislodge regarding Lent came to me while reading about the Passion week in the Gospels. I imagine Gethsemane was a private and familiar place of prayer for Jesus and his followers. This is where they gathered on his last night. It was here where Judas planted a kiss, a signal, on Jesus' cheek. From this place the ordeal began as they led Jesus away. I imagine a disciple coming back to that place after everything had gone down. Even after the resurrection, I imagine him walking in that place without being able to shake the violation it had undergone. Their private place of prayer was intruded and their leader seized. Gethsemane violated. I can't shake that sense of violated space. I don't think the resurrection could quite erase it for them. It's not about the safety of the place, but more the sense of relationship tied to the grove. When the crowd came to seize Jesus they took away the disciples' control over how they experienced that place. And I think for me it is less about application or relating it to my life, but more about sitting with the disciples and Jesus in that place and in those emotions. That a place is wrapped up in so much more than geographic location or function. But it carries with it experiences and emotions and relationships.

A couple weeks ago I finished a paper on the theme of rest in Psalm 95. It was by far more interesting that I had intended. The promised land is wrapped up in more than a deed to the land of Canaan. It carried with it the expectation and promise of the presence of God, the security from enemies, the end of slavery and captivity. And the land is synonymous with rest. For God to give the Israelites land meant a whole full life in the presence of God. And it got me thinking about working on a theology for refugees, those who must flee their land for matters beyond their control. Knowing the promises for rest and how closely they are tied to God giving the people their own land, what should the Christian community think about refugees. How should we interact with them and act on their behalf.

It got me thinking, which is what I need during this Lenten season. I'm moving quickly toward graduation and freedom from academia. I'll eventually need to figure out how I'm going to use these degrees. In the meantime you are invited over on Sundays for dessert.

*The photo is not meant to be overly emo. I had just returned from my first Ash Wednesday service where the inexperienced ash dabber made more of a unibrow than a cross on my forehead. In any case, you're not supposed to smile while wearing black and ashes and so I didn't.

Happy Pancake Day

Our 5th Annual Pancake Day celebration was a great success thanks to the Costco sized bag of pancake mix and the 30 guests who graced us with their presence. It was so great to have loads of people over from different parts of our lives. It was even better to be flipping pancakes and see friends from Church mingle with friends from school and have two different parts of our lives meet. This year we added doughnuts to the tradition from the best donut place in town--Annie's. If you couldn't make it there is always Cinco de Mayo to look forward to and in lest than a year there will be the 6th annual Pancake Day Party. Thanks again to our guests for making it such a great night.

Now that everything is cleaned up and I've had a good 9 1/2 hours of sleep, it's time for Lent to begin. This is the third year Jon and I are giving up sweets. This year I'm also adding journaling and writing letters as positive fasting (?). I'm looking forward to this time of reflection and sacrifice as I prepare for Good Friday and Easter. Have a Blessed Lent.

Fridays that Feel like Tuesdays that Feel like Sundays

Jon has a great joke about people who go on "cleanses." You know lemon juice and cayenne pepper and what not. They always seem to say, "Oh I feel so much better after my cleanse." Jon replies (fictionally because it's a joke and not an actual conversation), "Of course you feel good, you're eating again." I've read that a good dose of fiber and exercise will do the trick without the sting of lemon. As such, Jon and I have been on a bit of a health kick lately. We've been eating loads of salad and looking at the nutritional information on everything we eat. Before Jon came down with a cold this week we were walking regularly. Look at us, models of a healthy lifestyle. It could only go so far until I got the domestic urge to bake some cookies. So now we've got salad and cookies. A healthy balance in my opinion. You're welcome to stop by and claim your share of chocolate chip cookies. I know Jon owes our friend Andy cookie backpay for the rest of his life, due to his almost complete consumption of the cookies Andy's grandma express mailed him in college. That's a Sanchez story worth hearing. When you do make it over, it would be helpful if you had some motivational words for me. I've been severely slacking in my studies. I've got a rough draft of my first paper due Monday and nothing but theories floating around in my head. "What is the Hebrew word for rest?" It will be hard to convince my professor that I was researching the concept of rest in Psalm 95 by watching both series 1 and 2 of The Office (British Version). Maybe if I had taken a trip to Israel to survey the Holy Land, one possible definition for rest. Though it seems, no one is enjoying much rest these days over in Israel if that's what the Psalmist meant. And if I could muster up enough discipline I'd be convinced that I'd only truly rest once the paper was written. At least, I'd rest for a bit. As for now I'm letting things stew in my head in the hopes that something brilliant to pop out when I start putting words on the page. Wish me luck.