HEALTH

1. Drink plenty of water

2. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a beggar


3. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants


4. Live with the 3 E’s — Energy, Enthusiasm and Empathy


5. Make time to pray and read your Bible daily


6. Play more games


7. Read more books than you did in 2009

8. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day


9. Sleep for 7 hours
a night

10. Take a 10-30 minutes walk daily. And while you walk, smile.

A study in contrasts:

Things I did last week Monday:

~woke up early

~crammed for a 10:15am final exam

~took a final exam

~ate lunch while studying for the second final exam of the day

~took another final exam

~ate dinner 

~studied for the other 6 exams I had to take that week

~laid in bed for hours, disturbingly awake, my brain buzzing with information

~finally fell asleep, exhausted and filled with dread for the coming days

Things I intend to do this week Monday:

~sleep in late

~go for a run

~eat a leisurely breakfast

~go to the library and pick out a few good novels 

~meet up with friends for lunch

~wander around Target in search of some new flip flops

~cook dinner for my parents

~attend my little sister's choir concert

~read my new library book until my eyes won't stay open any more

~drift off to sleep with a smile on my face

P.S. Here is a picture of my new house. Yes, I realize it's pink. Yes, the neighbors probably all laugh at us behind our backs. Yes, I am completely smitten with it. And yes, these beautiful tulips popped up out of the earth all on their own, right next to the front steps. Lovely, aren't they? They even match. 

Heebie-Jeebies

Brook found this little guy's cousin in our trash can this evening. 

"Kaaaate!"

"Yeah, Brook?"

"There's a weird bug in the garbage can."

So I went over to have a look (along with Amanda, who happened to be visiting), and the creepy-crawly thing was clinging to the liner, flexing its spindly legs in waves as it tried to get out.

"What is it?" she asked, peering into the can as if it contained a severed human limb or something equally horrifying.

"It's a little alien." I said, examining it. "Or a centipede."

"Gross." she said, wiggling her shoulders in that strange way you do when you imagine something creepy scurrying up your back. 

"Stand back. I'll be the man of this household and get rid of it." I said boldly, grabbing a paper towel. But as soon as I approached the bucket to bravely dispose of the little sucker, Brook threw in a nausea-inducing comment.

"Good. Because I hate that crunching feeling of killing bugs."

I swallowed hard, imagining how all those legs would flail and snap between my fingers. Suddenly I was not so keen on my original plan. Especially when I got closer and the insect looked up at me with those beady little eyes. 

A chill shot up my spine, and I strategized an alternate plan of attack. Folding up the paper towel into a sturdy roll, I decided to flick it down into the bottom of the trash and simply bring the whole business outside to the bin. With Brook watching over my shoulder, I hesitantly moved to push the spindly bug off of its perch. But to my horror, instead of falling down, the creeper grabbed onto my paper-towel-flicker-thingy with several of its many legs.

I panicked. 

Screeching, I dropped the whole thing like it was on fire (thankfully, into the bag), and slammed the cover down, dancing away from the trash can with accompanying hoots and hollers of mixed surprise and disgust. This caused a very similar reaction in Brook, who shrieked just as loudly as I, recommencing her previous "get it off! get it off!" motion, plus a few hops away from the trash for good measure. 

After this moment of purely irrational behavior, we dissolved into hysterical laughter, and I moved back toward the garbage can to finish the job. Unfortunately, when I opened the lid I discovered that the multi-legged insect had begun to ascend the side once more. Knowing that I had to act quickly, I ripped the bag from the can, cinched up the opening, and sprinted out to the bin by our garage. I hurled the whole mess, bug and all, down into the big green can, and turned to cheer my victory. 

It was at that moment that Brook's two dogs caught up with me. 

I didn't get totally taken down by the ecstatic canines, but that's only due to the unusually large amount of adrenaline coursing thru my bloodstream, giving me momentarily-heightened reflexes. Winne and Jackson attacked me with excitement for a good 60 seconds before I could convince them that the ordeal was over, and I'd conquered the vile bug. All the while, Brook laughed from the safety of the kitchen. 

Give me a moldy human head in a bucket any day. I can handle that. But creepy-crawly bugs with too many legs? No thanks.

I said this wouldn't happen.

But it did. 

I have been shamefully absent from this blog for far, FAR to long! 

My deepest apologies, friends and readers, who have not gotten their "Kate's Little Adventures" fix for the past few weeks. I know it must have been rough on you. It has not been smooth sailing on this end either, believe me.

Now that I have confessed my guilt, I shall entertain you with a brief update regarding my biggest news of late; my new living arrangements!

At this very moment I am seated at my desk in my new bedroom, which is in my new house, which is on my new street, which is, believe it or not, in my new neighborhood! (and the green grass grew all around, all around... Camp song reference. Sorry.) 

Yes, my room is a disaster of unpacked boxes and unwashed laundry. Yes, the main floor looks like an episode of "Hoarders" (Piles of rubbish intersected by little paths going from room to room). Yes, I will continue to ignore both issues until after finals next week. 

Honestly, I'm just happy to be HOME. After feeling displaced for months and months, my heart is full of joy every time I drive up to the little pink box that will be my residence for the next two years. You read that correctly. My house is PINK. I'll put up pictures after I clean up the rest of my life... after finals. Patience is a virtue.

In the meantime, here is a literary snapshot of why I love my new house:

This afternoon, while home for a quick lunch between classes, I sat outside in my HUGE backyard, basking in the Chicago sunshine and munching on some gluten-free toast smothered with almond butter. Closing my eyes, I leaned back and sighed, for what glory didst grace my ears but the sound of church-bells, tolling the hour. If that wasn't amazing enough, the heavenly peals continued on, playing the tunes to several familiar hymns, their tones ringing brightly thru the spring air. I was instantly transported back in time and space to a sunny courtyard in the Netherlands where the very same sounds floated thru the air from the high steeples of magnificent cathedrals. 

As if to add bass notes to this treble-symphony of bells and birds, the rumble of a passing train grew louder and louder, sounding its mournful wail and clacking in percussive waves across the tracks just a block from where I sat. 

"There's something mysterious and romantic about that sound." I thought as it faded into the distance. The bells ceased their chiming as well, leaving me alone with the birds and the sunshine once more, but the chorus of the afternoon kept playing in my head for many hours later. And I smiled, knowing that tomorrow afternoon I would get to hear that same symphony again. And again. And again. Because this is my backyard, at my house, on my street, in my neighborhood. 

God is good.

Reliving the Dream

I used to be in an amazing choir. 

Singing with The Capella of Calvin College was arguably one of the most defining aspects of my undergraduate experience, heck, my life in general. Most of the friends that I still keep in touch with from college sang with me in this amazing choir, sharing the ups and downs that come with participating in an elite musical ensemble. I learned a great deal from my esteemed conductor, whom I consider a mentor and a beloved friend, not only about making music but about living a life of humility, grace, and passion. And I was blessed to travel the world with these friends, competing on the international stage in Europe!

If you aren't catching on, I'll spell it out for you: I loved my time with Capella.

Tonight I had the opportunity to see them perform, and my love for the choir was rekindled once again. A friend and fellow former member of the choir drove down to Demotte, Indiana with me to see the choristers give an afternoon concert, and our 60-minute drive was well rewarded. 

The first half of the program was a delight. However, I was even more excited to hear the second half because the choir was singing a piece that we had performed two years ago in France, a personal favorite of mine. Watching those young people sing brought back countless memories. I could almost see myself standing in their places, surrounded by all my friends as in years past. I sighed, a sense of melancholy coming over me with the knowledge that I would never again have the opportunity to sing with this choir. However, I was still smiling when our conductor walked to the microphone to introduce my favorite piece, but I was utterly floored to hear the words that came out of his mouth.

To my astonishment, he extended an invitation to my friend and I to come up and sing the piece with the choir, even going so far as to announce our names from the stage! My jaw dropped, and I immediately lost all ability to produce saliva. Already a nice shade of pink, I managed to make my way up to the front and find a place at the end of a row without falling over. My legs were like jell-o, I was starting to sweat, and I couldn't stop grinning like an idiot. And to top it all off, I was breaking the number one rule of singing: I had gum in my mouth. Perfect, just perfect.

 The girl next to me opened her music, but I didn't even look at it. My eyes were glued to my conductor because I WAS TERRIFIED. Sure, I could have sung the piece in my sleep, but when I opened my mouth to come in with the first entrance, no sound came out. Not even a peep. I was still so completely unprepared to sing, so out of practice, so unused to the thrill of performing that my voice rebelled for a brief moment in pure protest.

"Ok, Self." I thought, trying to keep the panic from my face. "You've done this a million times. Just sing. This is SO not a big deal."

"Uh, It is TOO a big deal!" my Self replied. "It's been two long years, honey. Are you sure you've still got it?"

"Yes, I've still got it!" I boasted to my skeptical Self. "I'll show you, too. Just as soon as my voice decides to cooperate."

Thankfully, my hesitation only lasted a moment, and I was able to sing the piece with gusto and emotion, reliving so many glorious moments in the process. My conductor smiled at me wryly as we sang, probably just as surprised as I was that I could produce any quality sound after two long years away from his tutelage. But (as always) the end of the piece came too quickly, and I found myself back in my seat, breathless and sweating. 

After the concert I fully intended to scold him for throwing us such a curveball, but when I finally got to talk to him, all I could do was thank him over and over for the opportunity to sing for him again. His reply: 

"Wow! I can't believe you've still got it!"

Neither can I, Dr. Navarro. Neither can I.

She's BAAAACK!

It's true, I have rejoined the land of the living (and the land of the blogging, for that matter).

I took my boards this past weekend, and while I have absolutely no idea how that whole thing will turn out "pass-wise," it feels great to have that weight off of my shoulders. The fact that I was at school, hunched over a desk, trying my darndest to remember obscure trivia about the human body for 10 hours may or may not have left me dazed, sore, and unable to feel my right index finger. For the life of me, I can't figure out what day it's supposed to be. It's amazing how the complete loss of a weekend can screw with your brain. It's been a time-warp kinda week.

In other news, we had a midterm exam on Wednesday. Yes, you read that correctly. The week after boards my jerk-face professor gave us a midterm. And just so you know, "jerk-face" is the very nicest name that I heard him called at school on Wednesday morning.

NEVERTHELESS, this too did pass. (No word yet on if I passed the midterm, but you catch my drift)

To continue the random nature of this post, I am taking an exercise class. And this is not just any exercise class. It's ZUMBA. 

Those of you who know what Zumba is are already laughing, for the mental image of yours truly participating in said activity is certainly hilarious, if not slightly disturbing. I assure you, I am just as awkward and uncoordinated as you imagine.

For those of you who do not know what Zumba is, let me try to help you picture this phenomenon. Think of the most painfully clumsy contestant on Dancing With The Stars (over age 40), dress her in yoga pants and a baggy t-shirt, throw on some Ricky Martin and try to teach her how to dance like J-Lo. That's Zumba, folks.

The truly funny part about this situation is that I didn't think it would be difficult. Honestly, I was expecting to waltz in there, one of the youngest, hippest kids at the park district, and shake my groove thing like a pro. FALSEHOOD, my friends. UTTER LIES. The moment the music started, it was as if the upper and lower halves of my body decided to sever all connections and go off in their own directions. I could barely follow the steps, much less coordinate my shoulders and arms with the instructor. I have a great sense of rhythm, really, I do. But this took every ounce of focus I possess just to make sure I wasn't going to elbow my neighbor in the face with my flailing and stumbling. All that, plus I was out of breath, sweating, and trying not to laugh out loud with my friends at the ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS picture we made.

Samba? Reggeton? Cha-Cha? I can barely polka. Who was I kidding? 

Our fabulous instructor assures us that we'll get better, that it's just about having fun and getting exercise, but I'm not going to quit my day job. All you dancers out there, brava. I hope you get the credit you're due, because this little girl sends you props upon props. 

"The most wasted of all days is one without laughter" ~ e e cummings

Attaining Perspective

So sorry that I've not been keeping up with this blog lately, but I'm up to my eyeballs in studying at the moment. I'll admit to feeling a range of emotions this past week: frustration, anxiety, boredom, and even a touch of despair. Sometimes I feel utterly and completely overwhelmed by the tasks set before me, and sometimes I wonder if it will be worth it in the end. But when I find myself plagued by doubts, I turn to this song, and it gives me comfort and perspective. Here are the lyrics, but I highly recommend taking a listen. It's sung by the phenomenal Brian Stokes Mitchell, written by Stephen Schwartz for the movie "Prince of Egypt."

A single thread in a tapestry
Through its color brightly shine
Can never see its purpose
In the pattern of the grand design

And the stone that sits on the very top
Of the mountain's mighty face
Does it think it's more important
Than the stones that form the base?

So how can you see what your life is worth
Or where your value lies?
You can never see through the eyes of man
You must look at your life

Look at your life through heaven's eyes

A lake of gold in the desert sand
Is less than a cool fresh spring
And to one lost sheep, a shepherd boy
Is greater than the richest king
If a man lose ev'rything he owns
Has he truly lost his worth?
Or is it the beginning 
Of a new and brighter birth?

So how do you measure the worth of a man
In wealth or strength or size?
In how much he gained or how much he gave?
The answer will come
The answer will come to him who tries
To look at his life through heaven's eyes

And that's why we share all we have with you
Though there's little to be found
When all you've got is nothing
There's a lot to go around

No life can escape being blown about
By the winds of change and chance
And though you never know all the steps
You must learn to join the dance
You must learn to join the dance

So how do you judge what a man is worth
By what he builds or buys?
You can never see with your eyes on earth
Look through heaven's eyes
Look at your life
Look at your life
Look at your life through heaven's eyes