College

College. Every public school system's goal for its students. College. The 4 (or 5 or 6) greatest years of your life. College. The most effective means of gaining independence.

College is indeed great. Great as in huge, intense. Believe me, I love college. I enjoy the thrill and the excitement, the ease of meeting people, the football games, the freedom. But the problem is, those were the things I was told about that make college "great." Yeah, there were a few muttered comments about college classes, some falsely claiming to be easier than high school classes. Yes, I have three siblings who attended college and yes, I heard all of the roommate stories. Still, I entered college with a pair of drunk-stimulated goggles on.

Last time I visited home, I told my Momma that I had been in a comfort zone my entire life. Things were where I needed them. People were exactly where I needed them when I needed them. I expected college to be like my old life, just more fun. And it is more fun. But boy is it as different as peanut butter is from jelly. Everything is new, completely and utterly new. And if you've known me long enough, you know I like tradition. I only like change if I'm the one changing things. I like my old friends. I like my old church. I like my old house with my old bathroom and my old, twin-size, low to the group, non bunked bed. True, a few of my friends are at Knoxville and I love having Jordan nearby but it's still not the same.

Everything is unfamiliar. The city, the people, the weather, the structure, my classes and professors, the food, my sleep pattern or lack of. My entire life is so different and so new. I like new things...but not a lot of new things. Adjusting, scratch that, being tossed across the ocean into a whirlpool of new things isn't exactly in my Agenda book.

But I guess that's the problem. I have had an Agenda book since third grade, filled with organizational tools, straight lines, and inspirational quotes. My whole life has been pretty much structured, like a perfectly drafted building (please pardon the architecture analogies). My whole life until now has been a completed puzzle. As soon as my parents pulled up the driveway to what would be my new 3rd home (Art+Arch building is my 2nd home) known as Morrill Hall and popped the truck door open, the pieces to my life fell out. Clothes sprung out of overstuffed tubs as my family and I attempted to carry it 3 flights. Cardboard boxes gave in and contents spilled. Now, when I say my life fell out, I don't mean that my life fell apart. I simply mean that my perfect puzzle had been knocked off the table and 2000 pieces had disconnected. Disconnected so I can connect them. Now that I'm here, in this new place with these new people, I get to connect my own puzzle. It's my turn to start new.

Before my mother starts to dial my number and call me to tell me that I'm crazy, please understand me. I still have the same pieces. I still have the boarder pieces called my family. I still have the jagged pieces that hold everything together called Christ. I am not creating a new puzzle or a new picture. I'm not the one who keeps it together. It's just me, taking the pieces, examining them, piling similar ones together. It's me understanding what pieces I have and how they fit together. It is this experience called college that allows me to think for myself, that challenges me mentally, academically, socially, physically, and most importantly spiritually. This 2000 piece puzzle that I can attempt but not complete on my own. Without a Friend, without a Father, it will remain an unfinished rectangle of art with missing spots. Besides, I would lose pieces of my life if it weren't for a Friend to pick them up so I can clearly see them.

Thrift Findings: # 3

Orientation Outfit

     Well, typically my outfits are all thrift findings, but how can I resist an Anthropology sweater that my twin cousin Abbie Walter gave me?

      Not gonna lie, I was really nervous about UTK's Orientation. I may be friendly but that doesn't mean I'm not scared of meeting ENTIRELY new people. I swear. There were two, yes two, of 190 people that I knew of, not knew well. But there were a lot of attractive guys there. Like wheeew. Okay. Sooo being the Potter geek I am, I decided to wear my Time Turner (Hermione's way of getting into classes in Prisoner of Azkaban for those of you who are a little rusty on your H. Piddy trivia) hoping it would be a good "conversation starter." No. Luck. But it proved entertaining during the looooooong sessions about meal plans and textbook reservations.

Time Turner and Gladiator Shoes 

     After asking a few soon-to-be-UT friends what to wear to Orientation (thank you Sarah Minor), I decided to wear a skirt anyways. Was I afraid that I would be too dressed up? A little. But that's what I do. I wear skirts. A lot. We've been told to always be our true selves, so I figured I would make a "true first impression." In one of our small group sessions, we were asked how we wanted others to see us.  Nobody wants to be labeled, but we all do it anyway. After shifting through Friendly and Kind, I decided that Original was best. (I also mentioned that I was opinionated, not judgemental but that's for another post.) Moral of the blog? Try not to judge a unicorn by its wings but by its spirit.

I love these colors

     Alright enough schpel (made it up. no idea what it means.) about stereotypes. Outfit. I must thank Abby Wellman for going to the Goodwill with me even though she left her phone and her wallet at home, twice. I picked this skirt because of its rich color and subtle texture. You may not be able to tell from the picture, but it's stitched with dots and flowers. I tucked in a chocolate brown tank and pulled on my burnt orange sweater (I refuse to wear electric orange unless it's running attire). Lastly, I slide on my gladiator shoes (they're in the picture this time for those of you who wanted to see them in the first post.) I pretty much wear those shoes with everything. Besides running shorts. That's tacky.

Because self takes are only good for self esteem

That's it for now. Hasta luego chicas!

~Joanna~

Thrift Findings: # 2 

Thrift store skirt. Garage sale top. Discounted scarf from Stein Mart. Unintentional angry face. 

Transition to Fashion

     Last summer I spent 4 weeks camping, missioning, and hiking; this summer so far has proved, well, less eventful. Sooo I need a little something to occupy my time (when I'm not "cleaning my room, checking out dorm dodats, working, etc.). I thought about writing a poem or an essay once a day but the idea made me...hungry. I don't need to be hungry. Anyway. I was checking out other blogs and a considerable amount were fashion. I like fashion. I like writing. Ah! Fashion blog=genius.
     Yes, I will still write poems and little "insightful wonderings," but honestly, sticking up a picture and writing 3 sentences takes less time than writing a poem (especially when you can't finish it until 2 in the mornin').

     Here it goes!

Thrift Findings: #1

Some of you may be thinking, Hmmm where have I seen this before? Well, there it was, hangin' on a rack at ze thrift. Turns out it's from Target. Personally, I don't love Target just because the quality sucks (at least that Mossimo brand does (besides how do you SAY that name?)) . Although, I saw it at ze thrift and it was 7 bucks (more than I would normally spend but the tag still remained intact). Sooo I checked the tag. XL. Alrighty, I may not be a S or even a M sometimes but goodness, this dress fits me perfectly and it's an XL. I can't imagine what a S would had been for this dress. Then again, maybe it was originally a shirt. Anywho. So I bought my little shirt/dress thingy and I wrapped my "gladiator" belt (graciously given to me from my Jordan friend Ruwada) around it and paired it with my "gladiator sandals with no shiny, gaudy madeleines (had to spellcheck that word)." I slid on my very real, very prescriped glasses. (I'm not a hipster and I'm not a poser. I just liked the glasses, oh tay?) Lastly, I pushed in my light as a feather feathered earrings from Miss Emily and put on my bronze bracelet that I found on a dock years ago. 

Please comment and please share your ideas on what you would had done with the dress or rather you even liked it. 

Hasta luego chicas! 

A Feeling, Undefined

‘twas love at first sight?

Me thinks not.

Ah! but a Feeling nonetheless!

A whirl of butterflies in the tum?

Nay, a flutter of one,

perhaps.

Or ‘twas lust?

Not in the least.

Ah! but a Feeling nonetheless!

A locking gaze in the eyes?

A twinkle,

perchance.

Or ‘twas absolute adoration?

Not quite so.

Ah! but a Feeling nonetheless!

An admirable embrace?

A touch of the hand,

by chance.

A lose for words?

Indeed!

Ah! But a Feeling nonetheless!

Haters Gonna Hate: So Don't Hate Yourself

Ugly. Fat. Flawed. Flat. Plain.

Every girl hears these words. Every girl has been stabbed by these lies. The problem is, not every girl knows these are lies. Culture has nailed in these "ever present" (haha Robin) lies so much, covered them up with pounds of foundation, and smeared them with layers of mascara that they seem to be true. They're the lies on the surface.
     Many people wonder today how Hitler came to power, how he was able to bring so much hatred. There's a quote that goes like this: "If you repeat a lie often enough, it becomes the truth."
     For decades, society has been telling girls (and boys) that they're not good enough, they're not pretty or skinny enough. One. Giant. Big. FAT. Lie. Images of make-up plastered, 6 foot tall, size negative two girls in paper thin bikins fill the pages of magazines. The ideal "hot girls." These girls may be attractive, they mean be sexy, they may be beautiful, but are they the only pretty ones?
     Do girls have to be skinny to be beautiful? Do they have to have "flawless" skin in order for someone to call them pretty? (Who's flawless when we've all sinned, anyway?) Do they need exotic facial features or full chests? We all KNOW the answer is no, but do we BELIEVE so?
     There are hundreds of quotes about inner beauty and confidence. Then how come there are anorexics, bulimics, sucidials, and obsessive plastic surgery patients? BECAUSE NOBODY'S PERFECT. But that's okay. 100% okay. (110% to those who think that makes sense.) The only human to ever be perfect was Jesus, and I guarantee you He did not have flawless skin. But He had a perfect heart and perfect obedience and perfect faith. And because Jesus IS perfect, we don't have to be. We never will be. Jesus took our flaws, our scars, and our wrinkles, and He bonded them around His inwardly perfect body and He shed. Isn't that beautiful? Doesn't that sound like the greatest, most wonderful four letter word? Doesn't that sound like LOVE? (If you were thinking of "food" you're wrong, although that's a great word, but we'll discuss that later.)
     Strangely, a lot of people cringe at the word love. They assume love always means a relationship between two people. They think love is out to harm them.
          "Love is patient. Love is kind.  It does not envy. It does not boast. It keeps no record of wrong."
     It keeps no record of wrong. It keeps NO record of wrong!
     You're thinking: Hold on, how did we get from lies to love? I'll tell you. If we love ourselves, then we love who we are. If we love who we are, then we love our bodies. Now notice that in the verse that it says "Love does not boast." When I say we should love ourselves and our bodies I do not mean that we should become prideful beings. To love oneself is to know no one is perfect (except Jesus) and to be confident in oneself, inside and outside. If we cannot be confident with our insides, how can we be confident with our outsides? We can't. When we're not confident, we're not sure. When we're not sure, we start to believe the lies.
     Okay. Back to the lies. Now you know why we believe the lies. So what do we do with them? Throw them out the window and into the dumpster! Yay! Unfortunately, it's not that easy. Why not? Because we're girls. Girls overanalyze. A lot. Someone could tell us we're pretty over and over but we'll never believe it...until we believe in ourselves. I, for one, have struggled with this for many, many years. Some of you may know that when I was six years old, I had a seizure that did not affect my body but did affect my learning ability. I was much slower at learning my ABC's and time tables than my classmates. But they didn't know. So they laughed. And it hurt. It hurt so much that I grew very shy. I didn't say a whole lot. It didn't help that I was chubby either. There was and is nothing wrong with being chubby, but I thought so. I believed the lie. All through elementary and middle school, I listened to those nasty comments. But something happened in 2008. I stopped believing the lies and starting seeing the truth. The truth that Jesus truly loves me as I am and that He made me beautifully. I begun to love myself. I stopped caring what others thought. I became myself. And when I did, I made more friends and I even lost weight after joining Cross Country. Now I would had never joined the XC team if I hadn't had confidence in myself and faith in Christ. I would had believed the lies that said I wasn't good enough or skinny enough to be running with these speedy people. But I believed the Truth instead. I believed that I was good enough, that I was strong enough, that I mattered.
     But even now, I'm not "skinny" like the models in Cosmo girl. I don't think I ever will be, and I don't care to either. I don't want to cover my face with gobs of make-up. I don't want to hide behind a facade. There's nothing wrong with a little make-up. It brings out our best features , but only when we use it to brighten rather than darken and cover. I don't care if I'm flat chested or double D because they're gonna sag someday anyway. It's what's underneath those that matter. No one's going to care who was the prettiest or who was the most the athletic or the most intelligent. They're going to remember the girl whose confident, who loves herself as much as she loves others, who knows she's beautiful, inside and out. Because when you smile on the inside, it shows on the outside and that's more beautiful than a pair of boobs, a flat stomach, an acne-free face, or a nice body. Love yourself because you're loved by Him who made you beautifully.