Guided by the candlelight in the eve.

Today was pretty spectacular! I FINALLY got caught up on my old blog posts – though I did not bother posting some of the ones that were supposed to be posted about a week ago – but, I got the previous three done anyway :)

My grandma, mom, and I went out to do some last minute Christmas grocery shopping… there isn’t anywhere to shop up here nearby.

So we headed up to the local IGA. There, I got my first taste of some local milk! Anyone who really knows me knows how much I LOVE chocolate milk! I really love it! That and chocolate covered strawberries. My heart melts.

Mountain Fresh Creamery

Check them out! Delish, as RR would say!

After that we made sandwiches and I snagged some homemade pickles.

Then, we got ready for Christmas Eve Service at Helen First Baptist Church in Helen, GA.

I love going to church! And I really like Rev. Jim Holmes. Fav quote of the night: “We marvel at the manger, but at the cross we are convicted.” How true! God touched my heart tonight and I feel ready to celebrate tomorrow.

After the service we piled into my grandparents truck and we looked at the Christmas lights in Helen!

Merry Christmas, y'all!!!

Here’s what I wore to the church service:

Green pendant necklace and cotton blossom dress from shopruche.com, tights from Hue, Lauren by Ralph Lauren sweater, Skechers heeled booties, and one ridiculous attitude ;)

We humble travellers of yore...

My mom and I are just arrived in White County, GA today! My favorite places to visit are in the Appalachian and Smokey Mountains!

 Crazy to head up anywhere in this three day block, but it’s what you do.

We stopped for Dunkin’ Donuts before hitting the interstate, as usual.

And this is what I wore:

White American Eagle sweater, Lolita T from Out of Print tees, skinny jeans, and black flats.

8 hours of fashionable, baby! Sort of…

I guess that I should have stopped at some point to take pictures, lol. I haven’t been very good about all of that.

Anyway, we get here and my grandparent’s dogs go bananas! They just get so excited about everything! Pics to come soon of my two girls!

My grandma Cook made us homemade Brunswick stew with her home grown carrots and potatoes! MMMMMMM!!!!

And this is what I see:

Mt Yonah :)

And this was my in-flight entertainment:

"Quite frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."

No joke.

Proof:

This was the weirdest part of our trip to the Cyclorama. Clark Gable as a dead UNION soldier… The story goes that before the cast of Gone With the Wind began filming, they were taken to the Atlanta Cyclorama to see a little bit of the history. Clark Gable made a joke about how he would the painting more beautiful and asked to be put into it. The thing is, he didn’t say it HAD to be in the painting portion of the Cyclorama. In the 1920’s a 30 ft deep diorama was added to create a 3D effect, and well… they added Clark Gable to the diorama as a union soldier, lol. Awesome!

The cyclorama – as an art form is centuries old and is kin to those lighted carousels that made light shapes dance around your dark room. It is the precursor to movies. A cyclorama is a 360° painting that immerses the patron in a special time or event. It encompasses you and you are swallowed by the silence and the overwhelming knowledge that your eyes cannot move fast enough to absorb all of the brush strokes.

My daddy went to the Atlanta Cyclorama - which is in Grant Park next to the Atlanta Zoo – when he was a little boy in the 70’s. It was much different when he went. It was so cool to have him tell me all of the differences between the before and the after. The Atlanta Cyclorama is an American Civil War Cyclorama and was completed in 1886. It depicts the battle of Atlanta… aka part of Sherman’s march to Atlanta. It is SOOO massive and there is such a nifty museum there about the Civil War that I highly recommend it. You’ve got to be sure to make it in time for a guided tour of the Cyclorama because you’ll miss the cool Jeopardy facts otherwise.

Here are some pictures that I wasn’t supposed to take, but of course did…

Emergency Exit... no lie!

Sherman bow-tie. My Grandpa Hutch grew up seeing this still around trees in the rural area of GA where he grew up.

After this, we went to Tanger Outlets at exit 221 off of I-85 SB. Maybe I-75SB… I can’t remember. It was pretty fun.

The Importance of Mezuzah

This is the Shema prayer; the one that is contained inside the Mezuzah

Mezuzah is Jewish for “door post” but it means the little boxes that Jews place on the door posts of their homes that contains the prayer.

In the Torah, God commands the Jewish people to hang mezuzot on their doorposts. Two Torah portions, Shema and Vehaya, include the verse: "And you shall inscribe these words upon the doorposts of your house and upon your gates."

The Shema (Deuteronomy 6:4-9) begins with "Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One." The Shema reminds us that God is always present in our lives, and that we should keep God's words constantly in our minds and in our hearts. The Shema tells us that one way to do this is by writing them on the doorposts of our house. Vehaya (Deuteronomy 11:13-21) assures us of God's compensation if we fulfill his commandments (mitzvot).

 


 

This first day -  which I actually managed to take a pic of – dark wash skinny jeans (American Eagle Outfitters), grey long sleeve shirt(old Old Navy), and a beautiful ¾ sleeve cropped hunter green chunky cable knit sweater that I scored for 50% off from LOFT by Ann Taylor, and cognac boots.

I threw Dubrovnik some love with the Kuzek tote bag that I purchased while I was there over the Summer.

On Monday we visited the Breman Jewish Heritage and Holocaust Museum

Here are some photos of what I found most touching:

This is a quote from Rev Martin Niemmoeller

A map of the camps. FYI you can't even see them all from this photo. I had to back up WAY too far to get the whole thing.

These two were reunited/ met in a Displaced Persons Camp after WWII and camp liberation

This is a poem written by a survivor who lives in Atlanta. It was written during the war. A moving and portral of fear.

 I never take pictures of persons being murdered for personal reasons. Aside from that, I do not feel that it is all that proper to the memory of the dead. For it to be exhibited in a museum for people to understand the gravity of the actions that were carried out in WWII, I find it almost necessary. I cry every time that I get to that part of WWII Holocaust museums. I cannot control myself. It is so heart wrenching for me to see the smiles on the Einsatzgrueppen’s faces while they malicious and unreasonably murder and massacre innocent persons. The fear that races in the victims’ eyes; this I cannot stand.

In the Holocaust class that I took over this past semester with Dr. Gellately, he said to us something that I agree with: “War liberates a people like liberty cannot.” In war time, certain new “freedoms” and powers are granted to different persons. In what peace-time country would the annihilation of the Jewish population be allowed? None. Not really. Granted there are things that have happened in peace-time countries, Pogroms, but nothing like the systematic murder of the Jews. It is truly shocking the things that happen.

 If you find yourself incapable of reading a whole book about it, try Maus,the comic book by Art Spiegelman. I highly recommend it. It’s a true story about his father. His father and his mother survived the Holocaust.

I also highly recommend the museum. Not only does one gain the enlightenment of the Holocaust, one is also able to see inside Jewish life, especially that of the Atlanta Jewish population.

For dinner we went to Truva on 60 International Andrew BLVD. If ever you are in Atlanta, go! It was SOOOOO good and very similar to some of the foods that I ate while I was in Bosnia i Herzegovina and Croatia. Being a Turkish restaurant, they have Turkish nationals. Our waiter was AWESOME!!! He was born in Bosnia and then grew up from the age of five onward in Turkey. I assume it was because of the Balkan war of the 90’s, but I didn’t ask. He spoke so highly of Istanbul! I am so excited about visiting there someday soon!

Here’s what I ate:

chicken breast stuffed with rice and pistachios and dates with a Tarragon sauce

Our waiter informed me that it was a palace dish in Turkey and was reserved for the Princess. I loved hearing the story behind the DELICIOUS meal that I had. My daddy and I shared this weird cheese dessert that is a very traditional dessert of Turkey. It was unbelievable! I can’t wait to go back and try something else from their menu! Yummy!!!

AND it did NOT escape that Kim Jong Il died yesterday. P.S. pray for N. Korea.
On our way back from Dinner we found some interesting art along the way...

Why someone would make stickers of this, I don't know. But, it gave us a good laugh. 

To Atlanta, We march!

My daddy and I are total American Civil War buffs! And just plain history fanatics.

I was so excited about this because… well… it’s travel. And I haven’t been on vacay with my dad in just about forever! Even if I had to share it with his new girlfriend.

This is what I packed: basics. It was only two days, but I still managed to pack quite a bit of clothes.

I wore on the road: black jeggings, nautical ¾ length sleeve shirt, chambray button down belted at the waist, cognac knee high boots.

I can’t wait to get out and explore my second fav Georgia city.

When we got into town I was shocked and saddened to see so vividly the homeless population. It was so cold outside and the group that we saw was so young. I could barely stand it! I have never felt so thankful for my life. I have never been confronted with this mass population of people before. I was so un nerved and slightly afraid of them. Apparently Atlanta has quite the homeless population. I come from a small town and even in Tallahassee, there is not a homeless population like that.

Not exactly the way that I wanted to start off the trip.

But with the Breman Jewish Heritage and Holocaust museum and the Atlanta Cyclorama coming up, I couldn’t help but get over it and move on.

 I’ve got such an amazing life <3 God bless your travels my little nomads!

like breathing under water

My brain feels like total and absolute butter!

I’ve also just returned from some ridiculous speed shopping with my dear friend Amanda!! AKA. You know what you want and you just drop by the store to grab a few sizes, try them on, and buy. It’s how I work. She also sort of talks me into things and I talk her into things… I should probably just go it alone from now on, lol. JK Amanda.

And, at around 6:00 PM tonight, I finished my last final for this semester! HU-FREAKING-ZZAH!!! All three in one day makes an interesting study  life, but a fast resolution to the stress.

This semester was brutal… and it’s pretty much all German’s fault. Literally, this whole semester has felt like breathing under water. Just barely making it to the surface for a little bit of air, but panicking the whole time because you know it’s about to get worse. That’s my semester in a metaphor… but now that I can breathe, I feel like I can look forward to my last semester and a half of classes and feel like maybe, just maybe, I can live out all those little fantasies that I had before I ever left home. AHHHHH!!! Church, working out, being awesome! I look forward to focusing on my future rather than on passing German.

And after three weeks of drugging myself to sleep to shut up the anxiety, three all-nighters – two pulled consecutively – and feeling like a stressed-out, spazzed-out, high-strung failure bordering on mental and emotional collapse… to say that I am relieved is an absolute understatement. But, enough about that… because now comes the ever sitting-on-pins-and-needles-experience of waiting for official grades to be posted! Geeze! Worst part of the whole experience.

I feel pretty strongly about my German final, and I’m pulling for two B’s, one A, and a C. Not my usual grades of 4.0 across the board, but seemingly pretty standard performance here. But, I’m  glad that German is over!!!

Happy studying for the rest of you!!!

This was my morning's status: True Story

Don't take the Holocaust and German language in the same semester...
You'll end up dreaming about being arrested, freed by the Allies, and walking past Hitler a few times. All the while debating what to make for your brother for dinner bc the frontier lady cooked so many wonderful dishes on her open fire stove. Clearly, it's going to be a long day....

 

Doing exactly what got me into this pinch...

That's right. I've gotten sick TWICE over an exam! I am so thouroughly freaked out that I have been making intimate with the porcelin thrown - face first.

I have never experienced anything like this before. And honestly, I can't believe it... I am so freaked out about my German 3 final that I am literally SICK over it!
Shouldn't there be rules against this kind of stuff?

Sure: but according to FSU's policies only if I have FOUR exams within a 24-hour period. Not if I have three exams back-to-back. Nope, that's completely tolerable!
FAIL!

So, for the past two days I have been writing essays - which are part of my exams - and I am NOT complaining that my super awesome History department professors are so chill for giving us these take-home essays, but seriously!

THE ENTIREITY OF MY FUTURE ACADEMIC CAREER HANGS IN THE BALANCE OF PASSING MY DREADED GERMAN 3 FINAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's why I am getting sick! So, I have a new game plan: Write for 40mins. Study German for 15-20min. Repeat.

But the reason that I'm in this mess is that I have been taking my time with the essays, thinking all the while, "Essays never take me more than a few hours... a day and a half at most to get all three done." NICHT!

I need my vacay with my daddy and my vacay with my mommy and a run and a good night's sleep. Bitte schoen!

Just remember - unlike I fail to do - that you are not measured by how well you can speak German. Your worth lies in the eyes of God and in how much you are loved by those around you :)

Advice from Split, Croatia

When I was travelling by myself in Croatia after my study-abroad 2 week program ended, I went to Split for the last part of my solo week.

PICTURES AT THE END. READ FOR THE REWARD.

I was eating dinner at Hotel Peristil’s own restaurant and it was dead. Where the hungry people were, I do not know! A young – and attractive waitor – was just sitting and I was just sitting and we weren’t talking. That’s weird for people over there. He started talking to me. We must have talked for at least 3 hours. He shared with me SO much about the culture in those hours than all the studying in the world could have done. It was amazing. I discovered how much alike people are. How everyone in the world worries about how their government is changing and so on. How they work, how the economic crisis isn’t just in the US – dimwitted, I know.

He told me all about how the businesses have declined and how foreigners are all worried about how much they are spending, when only a few short years ago, that would have been the farthest thing from their minds.

Yeah, the world is a lot crappier than it used to be.

Aside from the fact that he thought it was weird that I was travelling alone, he told something about myself:

I am time-obsessed.

He reminded me that time is yours. And it’s up to you how you spend it. But, he said, Americans have lost this amazing ability to use time. Time uses us.

It was then that I noticed that the whole time that I was talking to him, I was checking my clock! WTF!? I thought… I am on vacation and I have nowhere to be, and no time constraints, I don’t have to be up early. What am I doing? I immediately put my phone far away from me so that I couldn’t see the time. And we continued to talk.

The best thing he told me the whole night was this:

Whatever you have to do, will be waiting for you when you get to it.

I so wish that this were true… they have work ethic, but they take it easy. They don’t bust themselves up by the time that they are 45 trying to do everything on Monday so they can do everything on Tuesday.

This isn’t a race… it is life.

So just slow the freak down when you can. Enjoy yourself. Don’t make yourself haggard and wretched inside just so you can have everything checked off.

Take it slow.

Take long lunches with friends. Walk slowly on your way back from class and take deep breaths and smile as you look up to the sky and try not to feel so sad doing it.

Yeah, I know, we all have schedules, but screw it every once in a while. Like he said, “It’ll be waiting for you.”

I mean, I spent a whole day walking around Zagreb’s up-town basically lost. I was looking for ONE thing in particular and essentially ended up losing a whole day… but it’s ok. I met some AMAZING people.

Look what you can miss if you don’t take time.

A little window on the streets of Zagreb. I would have missed it if I hadn't looked up. Take time to look up.

After a day of being lost, you can feel like a master of the streets once you figure it out and finally find what you've been looking for (Zagreb).

A real Croatian Baseball game... I think that's what it was. I watched it for a bit then moved on the the Archaelogical museum. Take your time getting to where you're going. Enjoy the unique things that you find along the way. (Split)

Sometimes getting lost reveals something that you would have never seen (canopy in Split)

Take the time to look and admire (Market in Split)

Zagreb. Just take a moment to look back to make sure you didn't miss anything.

Is it possible to die from finals?

Seriously? I think that I might... from actual exhaustion...
you know? the kind that you read about in old westerns and tragic stories of the like?
That kind. Not so much the kind where you give up, but the kind where people look over you and shake their heads - or look at you like their hair is too heavy on one side of their heads - and say with regret, "Poor thing worked herself plum to death..."
That kind of thing.
I'm probably being tragically poetic or overly dramatic, but that plaguing combo of feeling sick, pulling all-nighters, and feeling more than beyond ready to be done gets to a student after a while.
Enough of all that:
Here are some new blogs that I have discovered with the help of other blogs
Kendi Everyday
It's adorable!
Girl With Curves
She posseses amazing fashion.

Check them out as I try and keep it together and pass German 3... God help me!

I've got Georgia on my mind... again.

This is the place that I need to be in right now!

And how could you blame me? It's gorgeous here!

And my heart so desperatley wants to feel the freedom that I feel when I am in the Appalachian Mountians of NE Georgia... how much longer?!?!?!?!? Oh, please let the end come as if on the feet of Mercury.

You date an illiterate girl.

I came across this little epitaph a while ago and felt it was important enough to share on my blog:

– You Should Date An Illiterate Girl, Charles Warnke
"Don’t date a girl who reads because girls who read are the storytellers. You with the Joyce, you with the Nabokov, you with the Woolf. You there in the library, on the platform of the metro, you in the corner of the café, you in the window of your room. You, who make my life so god damned difficult. The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not. But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than I am. You will not accept the life that I told of at the beginning of this piece. You will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being storied. So out with you, girl who reads. Take the next southbound train and take your Hemingway with you. I hate you. I really, really, really hate you."

Well laid plans.

I sometimes scare myself with how excited I get over travelling... I mean look at this:

This is what I did during my distracted time... I planned out outfits for my Winter vacay.
I'm so excited to get started on packing to go have mini adventures... sort of adventures.
My dad and I are going to Atlanta and my mom and I are going to Cleveland/ Dahlonega, GA to visit my grandparents. I'm just so excited to be chilled to the bone everyday and have my mits - literally - around a hot cup of chai tea :)

I've been sheepishly buying up new basics left and right, icluding a new pair of cognac boots that should fit my wider calfed leg :) Plus, I got 20% off.

The list of basics that I purchased for the new season are:
a chambray shirt - finally - from ON.com
a Grey Pointellete pull-over sweater from GAP.com
a few shirts from both stores

My next move is to purchase a few pairs of tights and to make this adorable faux fur sweater vest from this tutorial:
http://www.adventuresindressmaking.com/search/label/tutorial

P.S. her site is full of awesome

I also have an oder coming in from Ruche (shopruche.com) that includes a few pieces of jewellery and an adorable ruffle infinity scarf in green as seen here from their new lookbook.

Now that I feel all updated and stylish, I have no need to fret the cold of my judgement.

What Fashion Stores Really Tell Us.

I love clothes. I love shopping for clothes. But more oft, I find it frustrating and sometimes degrading to my self-esteem.

Clothing stores - at least the ones that have the fashion that I like the most like UO, Zara, H&M, etc, etc. - tell me that unless I am a size 12, I don't belong in their stores.

Take Zara for example. A blog that I follow (http://the-other-emily.blogspot.com/) got me interested in the store and I went online today to see what they had. I loved loved loved their jeans... but I could only have them if I were a size 12. Otherwise I was left with one option: these ugly acid wash straight leg jeans...

It's moments like these that I feel like an absolute outsider. Like I am some how not good enough to wear their clothes.
And then it occured to me: Fashion stores are like elite clubs. Only if you're good enough can you get in.
I don't know. Maybe I'm being too sensitive... maybe I'm feeling vulnerable from years of being picked on and feeling fat.

But I still feel that fashion is the ultimate hypocrite. It tells women to be strong, fun, fearless, and sexy. And at the same time tells women that if they aren't thin enough, rich enough, pretty enough, or resemble people that were just liberated from a death camp then you can't be all of the things that fashion is trying to teach you to be.

Total FAIL.

From my fruitless research in the microfilms yesterday...

Georgia on my mind...

Oh, Georgia! How I long to be in the safety of your memories. How I long to be in the security of care-free days. Georgia call to me, call for me, take me in your arms! <3

Why can't December 14th arrive... TOMORROW?!?!?! I am so desperate to see the bare trees with black limbs scraping the blue-gray sky. I want to hear nothing but the wind sweeping through the mountains. The sharp chill of the mountain air is what my lungs long to be filled with.

There is something about the Appalachian mountains that just drives my spirit into a frenzy... maybe it's fact that my family has been vacationing in the White/Habersham/Lumpkin county region of Northeast Georgia for as long as I can remember, maybe it's the family heritage that I have in Georgia... or maybe it's just the magic of the mountains. How could it be otherwise? I always feel so right with the world when I am in Georgia. Every now and again my insecurities sweep through my mind and dampen my spirits, but then I go into the woods and all is again right in my heart.

It is only November 5th and already my mind is thinking on what I need to pack, what outfits will suit both my Ocala travels and my Georgia travels, and what I need to buy... i.e. new tights and jeans since I am still stuck in the size 16 of haunting horror. I just can't wait to be out this damned city named Tallahassee... my feelings towards this city is another blog post entirely...

Keep traveling - in mind, soul, and body.

Biblophile

Even though I have been drowning in a sea of unrelenting school work, I still cannot keep my mind from wandering two months two months into the future where I will be free of German and in the great state of Georgia! I love it there. Last year it snowed. I took so many pictures of a sparse covering of white loveliness I was so excited!
I have problem when I go anywhere that my books are not; I try to take them all with me. I have been learning to pack lighter because I get made fun of for how much I take with me... most of the mass being books and shoes. How can you ever take just one?! And I'm always reading more than one book at a time: different books for different moods. Words are like music to me. I have to be in the mood to deal with turmoil and war and emotional distress and happiness and gaiety and love. I have to be in the mood to be in Russia with Anna, I have to be in the mood to be with Ernest in Paris, I have to be in the mood to think with Ayn. I am an emotional being and I want the things that I do and surround myself with to reflect how I am feeling.

The only problem is I am trying to find the one book that I will begin and finish this winter break. I am a slow reader with a proliferation of books that have perfect spines and unbent pages. So who am I going to go with?!? Who will come with me? Will it be Rosamond Lehmann? Joyce? Tolstoy? Austen? Auden? Rand? Hemmingway? Fitzgerald? WHO WILL I TAKE?! It is oft too much to bear. I am like a mother unable to pick a favorite... (But I am leaning towards Lehmann's The Weather in the Streets)

Just because you're a thin woman doesn't mean that your life is any better than an overweight woman.

I was watching a show on TV called "Supersize vs Superskinny" and an obese woman said something AMAZING!!! "Just because you're thin doesn't mean that your life is better than mine." How true? This show comes to the US from across the pond. where an average size is 12 US. Here, in the US, that is border line plus size!!! WTF AMERICA?!?!?! Since I was little, I have felt like a failure, ugly, unwanted, and as though I would never be able to be bautiful until I was stick thin like the popular girls in my school. Has I grown up in the UK, I may have turned out differently... just think, I would think that my size 14 sometimes 16 was beautiful. I would feel pretty BEAUTIFUL!!! I mean, one of the first things that I bought for my apartment was a weight scale... and I hate seeing it because I know that everytime that I step onto it, I will feel badly about myself. But without it, I won't face up to how my eating is affecting my health.
I know that I am beautiful because I am a child of God and even though I abuse food because of my weight and the feelings that have surrounding my weight because of food... every time that I walk around thin women I feel morbidly obese. What has American or mass media done to me? done to us?! My whole life I've felt held back because of my weight... I've been shy because I feel fat. I know that I need to lose about 60-50 pounds in order to be at my ideal weight for my height and age, but I wouldn't mind being back at my lightest weight which was 180. What's so wrong with a curvacious woman with meat on her bones? "No man wants to sleep with a snake." - A Land Remembered I'm ready to just be how genetics made me. I want to be like the French women are. They ask one question about their weight: "How do my jeans fit? Still comfy? Yes."
So buck up lovely ladies and don't feel like you have to be a size -5 just to be beautiful. Screw that! Life is too short and too precious to waste on being obsessed! Being concerned and watchful is permitted. But eat that piece of cake if you haven't had any sweeties all week. ENJOY YOUR LIFE!!! GOD GAVE IT TO YOU FOR A REASON.

It's hard to be on the outside looking in; especially when it's your dream.

That is how I have found myself feeling. Irrational, I know, but there my mind stays. I look at people laughing and having fun and doing things that I want to do while I am at the library or at home studying my life away... and I find myself thinking, "this most definitely is not the way that I planned for this to be going." Alas, there it is. And here I am living it... will fun ever find its way into my everyday routine or will I remain as I always have been? a lone girl with her books to keep her company when she begins to feel lonely.
I remember when I moved here, I fantasized about about all of the great people that I would meet and all of the fun that I would have and those fantasies are in stark contrast to the reality that I am now faced with living.
But here is to being positive. Here is to being patient that God will help me work it out. Here is to figuring it out before it is all over...

Excuse the absence

Please do... I know that I promised that I would have daily updates from my journal about my trip, but my normal life takes more of my time than I remembered it taking. Odd, isn't it? As soon as I catch up to my life, I'll be back to posting more stories and more photos and more experiences that will hopefully make you want to be an adventurer! <3

"A witch or sexy kitten are the only two options for women."

It's pretty much true. When the world looks at women - the only way that it knows how to: superficially - all that it sees are witches and sexy kittens. Could it be that Sex and the City, even for Christian women, is a fountain of truth? I don't mean to pose rhetorical questions to cyber space; but it begged to be asked. And then there are two types of women... cute and hot. Why are there no labels in the attractiveness like smart, funny, sweet, adventurous? Other descriptive words that don't include superficial qualities. This may be an undeveloped idea, but it's just a surface thought provoked by the Sex and the City movie. That's all.

Blood and Honey: the true story

 

The word Balkan comes from two Turkish words. Bal: honey  Kan: blood. And being in Mostar and in Sarajevo you would understand how fitting that name is. How truly it describes the region. Bosnia i Herzegovina is still filled with blood and honey. The people are sweet yet filled with pain. And the land is beautiful, but filled with the blood of its' people. If only you had been there to see it. Oh, I wish that words could make you feel what my eyes saw. I wish that these photos meant to you what they mean to me.

Everytime we (my class and me) went somewhere that I knew there had been conflict only 10-15 years prior to our arrival, I desperately searched the buildings and landscapes for signs of destruction: namely shell holes. I was forced to wonder during all of my searching if I was doing something wrong... looking for only the open wounds rather than looking for the signs of healing. I felt strangely fascinated by all of the wholes and then... I felt... guilty. Guilty for wanting to see it all and feeling vaguely disappointed about the covered and filled in holes. Should I be ashamed of myself? I'm not sure. Should I know how to feel all by myself?

It was an alien situation for me. I didn't want to see the destruction, but I did; I was happy to see the repair and the progress. It means that the city is healing - that the people are slowly learning to forget the pain. This is what I want to do with the life that God has given me.