Small but Big

Snowflake now

But made to be a snowman

Rolling now

But made to press on

Silent now

But made to proclaim

Slow going

But still growing

Still knowing

There must be more than this

They say valleys lead to mountains

But that's assuming you will stay on the road

They say after the storm comes a calm

But that's assuming you will survive the storm

How do you stay grounded in this sea of knowledge

In a world that says

Your truth is your truth

And mine is mine

How do you keep yourself from the pattern of drifting

In and out of love and passion for God

There is an anchor for our faith

His name is Jesus

He is the Word of God

There is nothing more than Him

Word Up

via ggcem

Button

I spent a good 5 minutes trying to figure out how to turn on one these suckers:

I was writing my paper in a cubicle at Biola when the screen suddenly went blank... I frantically, and/but calmly traced the power plug and found out that the guy in the next cubicle had unplugged my line to plug in his laptop. I was like, "oh no you di'nt," with a growl but it came out like, "it's alright, good thing I saved right before" with a smile. Luckily, I really did save my paper, but unluckily, I didn't know how to turn the computer back on... My PC pride prevented me from asking anyone for help. Never surrender. I quickly realized that there was no mother brain (the standard computer tower for pc's). I never knew that was possible... an iScreen. So I began running my fingers all over the edges, the bottom, the top, in the back, but no luck (by this point, I had wiped all the dust off with my fingers. you're welcome). I even pressed and held down the big mac button in the front thinking it was a touch interface. Nothing. WTFrustration. So I finally reached back and swiveled the whole screen around and...

... are you serious. That button is embedded into the plastic like an ice cube in an iceberg. It's like trying to find that one special loose brick on a fireplace that opens up a hidden door that leads to a chamber of secrets. I am quite certain I unknowingly ran over the button with my finger multiple times when I went all TSA on it earlier. This ain't no iMac, this is an iSpy. "iSpy the audio jack! finally!"

Nevertheless, I'm writing this entry on the very same iSpy. We've overcome our differences, and I've found my new corner in the library.

Hm. It's been a good semester. It's the most amount of papers I've written for school in one semester/quarter. I feel like I haven't gotten any better at writing, instead I've only gotten better at pretending to have gotten better at writing. See, I could have just wrote, "write well," but I didn't because I wanted to pretend like I got better by using unnecessary, unconventional words and sentence structures... I lost me there.

But in the end, it's good to know that I love what I'm writing and learning. For example, the paper I turned into was a Meditative Project on Philippians 2:5-11. By the end of the 10 pages, I was convicted of the responsibility of having a humility that leads to the unity for the sake of the spiritual community looking to the joy in eternity in light of Christ's humility all for the Father's glory.

Now just one more paper left.

Let's go.

Cheetos

I love the hot ones.

In my younger days, I was so addicted that mom had to hide the bags from me so that I wouldn't eat them before dinner. It was my "cookie jar." I actually searched cabinets, kitchen drawers, closets, and even the garage, but she was good at hiding them... or I was bad at finding them. When I was finally allowed to have some ('some' as in, layout a napkin and mom pours couple pieces out) I would savor and treasure each piece by sucking the flavor dry to the point where I would not have to even take a bite. It was my crack-on-a-stick. The best part was the red fingers. mmm. Even after playing basketball or handball with that lumpy old dirty orange ball at recess that made my hands turn black and smell like sewage, I would make sure to clean off every and any red particle on my fingertips. hmm tastes like iron.

My flaming hot love for cheetos continued on through high school. When I realized that I could buy food at school, and that mom would never know what I had for snack time, I splurged on them like a pokemon splurges on rare candy. My usual 2 course snack in 9th grade was a bag of 99 cents hot cheetos (i just realized i don't have a 'cent' sign on my keyboard...) and a bottle of sprite for $1 or $1.50. I would make sure to buy it right before snack ended so I could have the whole bag all to myself during 3rd period AP Econ. People still asked for a piece or two, but compared to the floodgate of hungry pubescent hands at snack time this was a mere leak in the faucet. Man, I was so stingy smart. This one time some family friends came over and the two siblings each brought a bag of hot cheetI ate them all. Yes, even the children because they probably had hot cheetos in their system already.

In college, I matured and I grew up. Actually, the price matured and went up to $1.29. What's up with that? Messed up is what is up with that. And I barely had enough meal points to survive one school year so I had to cut back on junk food. Instead, I indulged on cheap (pronounced "chip") Korean chips, crackers, cookies, and... instant noodles. I even had instant dduk gook (rice cake). Mmhm. Can't get any better than that unless they make instant pho. Oh wait. I had those too! (btw, instant noodles are great stocking stuffers). But in the end, as much as I love Korean chips (the finger nail chips are my favorite), they can't make my mouth salivate like a $2.59 hot cheetos bag does. Word of the year: Self-control.

Wow. As I was typing in "hot cheetos" for my post label, it did an auto-complete, which means I already have a post dedicated to hot cheetos... that's kinda gluttonus maximus.

Finals week does wonders to my level of creativity. And by creativity I mean ADD.

But I don't believe in ADD.

I miss care packages...

...with hot cheetos.