Epic. Fail.

If you've talked to me in the last day or two (or if your Facebook homepage has given you any insight into my "status," aka "life," over said time period), you are most likely aware that I am now officially an epic failure. At life. Yeah.

Ok, so here at Indiana Wesleyan there is this lovely little class known affectionally as Fine Arts (think Art and Music Appreciation) that is a general education requirement for any and all students (I tried getting out of it by telling them I was morally opposed to looking at sculptures of naked people, but I didn't get very far). This course is notorious for being tough, although I suppose it really depends on the teacher. Anyways, I am in the art section, and we had our first test this last Tuesday. Being the nerd that I am, I studied. Hard. I studied for hours for this test, because I knew that it would most likely be hard, that's just the way it is. So Tuesday morning roles around, the class is at 9:25. I get up shortly after 7 and study more. Go to class; I'm nervous, but hey, I studied my tail off, and I'm generally a pretty good test-taker so I was determined to get through it. My prof hands out the test, and as the minutes go by, you can just feel the aura of disbelief, of shock, frustration, and despair descend over the classroom as we realize that we are taking an impossibly hard test. It was ridiculous. Yes, he had given us a study guide, but you wanna know how much good that study did? NOTTA! It was worthless, that's what. Know how much good all my hours of studying did? NONE! That was the most ridiculously impossible test I have ever seen, totally unfair (in my opinion). Afterward we had to go back into class to listen to him lecture some more; pretty sure I was giving him death glares the whole time.. and if you've ever received a death glare from me, well, actually you'd probably no longer be living, so never mind.

All right, since I know none of you started reading this with the intention of listening to me gripe and complain about my epic failure, so I will have pity and switch gears. 

So it snowed like six feet today, no joke. Besides being blinded as I walked to my 8:55 class by the massive snowflakes descending from the sky, I pretty much almost got ran over by the ambitious snow removal guys in their little tractors at least three different times. As cold as it was outside, I actually became quite contemplative. Now, the snow guys in their mini bulldozers can't do everything; sometimes, you're going to have to get the bottom of your jeans and possibly your socks wet and step in a little bit of snow (like when you're stepping from the sidewalk to the street, for example). If I waited for them to get rid of all that nasty white fluffy stuff, I would never have made it to the student center today, or 2/3 of my classes for that matter. It made me realize something:

For every great path in the snow, someone had to get their jeans wet and walk through it first.

I respect those kind of people, not just the ones that are willing to tramp through six inches of snow so the rest of us can carefully step in their footprints, but those who aren't afraid to go it alone, to get their feet wet while everyone else sticks to the familiar, the nicely worn path that presents little discomfort and requires little guts.

I want to be one of those.

And I'm over my epic failingness, by the way. I have accepted it, will take my grade as it comes, and will think happy thoughts instead of death glaring at my professor..who really is a pretty nice guy..

*Cough**Hack**..**Spit** repeat..

Maybe ya'll already know this, but being sick is kind of a drag..

I'm one of those weird people that always kind of wants to get sick, just so I can have an excuse to do absolutely nothing and sleep all day (I mean, when else do you get such amazing privileges?) I have the glitch (more of a psychological malfunction, really) where I absolutely cannot just sit and do nothing (yeah, sitting down and watching TV just to watch TV, doesn't happen); I always have to be doing something or moving around or I feel as if I'm wasting time. So logically, when I am sick and otherwise incapable of any kind of productivity whatsoever is the only time in my life where I can just relax, not do a stinkin' thing, and not feel bad about it.

But enough about me and my hermit lifestyle.

Wilbur Williams.

What can say about Wilbur? The name itself evokes an aura excitement, mystery, adventure, like Indiana Jones except with alliteration.

For those of you who are unaware, Wilbur Williams is pretty much the coolest guy ever. Period.

Wilbur is a 70-something year old professor here at IWU. He's been teaching since my dad was in diapers, and he is the favorite here. The favorite of everyone, even people who have never taken the guy's class, which I did (and he teaches Old Testament, by the way. This man's led more archaeological trips to Israel than most people make to the bathroom in year). He's got the voice of God (no joke) and the wisdom of Solomon (before the 750 wives). Kinda wish he'd adopt me..

And he's pretty much famous, too! The man has rubbed shoulders with more famous people then you'll find on Oceans 11, 12, and 13. Seriously, try googling "wilbur williams;" you'll even get pictures! (not that that's creeperish or anything...)

Needless to say, Wilbur Williams is my hero. Today, I was walking across campus to one of my classes (there was absolutely no one else around because I had to run back to my room to get something, so in a sense I was quite late). He was walking on the sidewalk a good distance away, paused, waited until I noticed him, and then waved. He waved! At me! Tell ya what, it pretty much made my day..

Not that I'm obsessed or anything. I just happen to think Wilbur Williams is the coolest thing since Wheel of Fortune.

Wheel of Fortune is my favorite show.

Darn New Year's Resolutions...

Well, I kind of put myself in somewhat of a conundrum with this one.

I happen to be one of those people that makes New Year's resolutions..usually more than one, and most often they aren't very thought out. So I guess I have a blog now..

Right now, this blog doesn't have a specific theme, so if you think this is just another one of those where the person has nothing better to do with their life than tell the whole world wide web their problems when what they really need is a therapist then...you're actually very wrong :P I couldn't care less if anybody read this, but I made a resolution, so I guess I'll write whether anybody ever sees this or not. I wrote it in my prayer journal, and since God and I are kinda tight, let's just say my conscience will eat away at me if I don't at least try.

Before I end this, I'd like to share a thought on Daniel (the one from the Bible :), compliments of Pastor Mike Welch of 12 Stone Church:

Daniel had lots of big ideals; some might say he lived in NeverNeverland. He was blameless, followed God's law down to the very last "thou shalt not eat... (WAFFLES..wouldn't that be sad). Anyway, he had big ideals, and you know how he lived? With bold actions. 

Big Ideal- God never falls.

Bold Action- Follow God in a fallen world.

example- tell the king of the greatest kingdom in the world that God's none too pleased with him and if he doesn't shape up, well, he might run into a few pothole's on the gravel road of life (in other words, flip his gourd and go Discovery Channel on the kingdom). The king could've said, "Off with his head!" and we'd probably be missing a few chapters in our Old Testament. 

So..do we have big ideals?

hmm...how's this for a big ideal- the saying goes "mind over matter," right? So I am just going to tell my mind that I'm actually very very tired, that my throat doesn't hurt, and that I will be asleep in 8-12 minutes.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Peace