1. Having an address now in Scotland makes it feel more like home.
2. Waiting to fill out paperwork stresses me out. I like paperwork, and I like having it done months in advance.
3. Changing my last name is going to be legally very difficult. If I'm not legally Lori McFarlane, am I still able to sign cheques as her?
3.5. What do I put on my visa application? Lori Arnold or Lori McFarlane? Does it have to match my passport and plane ticket?
4. Dieting in the last months of living in this blessed restaurant-ridden country is getting to be a chore.
4.5. I shouldn't say "months", since it's only one full month and some weeks away.
5. Getting married for me means giving up a lot more than it does for the average couple. Giving up an awesome job, a country, all my belongings, my family and friends, and the joy of opening real wedding presents is a lot.
5.5. Not to mention cornbread and okra.
6. Shipping the few belongings I hold dear and cherished is beginning to look impossible. Unless God sends me $800-1000 in the mail within the next few weeks. Which He's perfectly able to do, though He may choose not to.
7. Intended for Pleasure is not as dirty as I hoped. I suppose one cannot expect dirty out of a Christian marriage book, but with a subtitle like "Sex Technique and Sexual Fulfillment", it wasn't outrageous to hope.
Friday, July 30, 2004
Thursday, July 29, 2004
Roller Rink
Daniel White was the cutest boy in the whole school. Granted that in a school of only a couple hundred K-12, it's not really a huge feat to be the cutest boy. And I'm not sure if the opinion of a fifth grader even counted. But to me, a skinny, monkey-armed, greasy-haired nine year old, he was certainly more handsome than any boy I'd ever seen. He was so popular, he played Matthew in the school's production of Anne of Green Gables, he was dark-haired and had the nicest smile of all the high schoolers.
I pined away for Daniel all year. Even though other crushes certainly existed, none were as fantastic as Daniel. I just knew that if only Daniel knew me, he'd fall in love with me-- and maybe he'd hold my hand!
Daniel was always so nice to me. He knew my older brother, so he sort of knew me. He knew my name and would say hi to me the few times I would be passing through the high school halls on my way to art or choir. All my friends were sure he liked me back. I jumped to any occasion that my teacher would need an errand run down to the high school halls. When I could get away with it, I used the high school girls bathroom in hopes that one of the girls would tell me Daniel has been talking about me. I waited patiently for this boy all year. Any minute, I knew it was coming. The romance of a lifetime.
As the school year neared the close, I became anxious. Surely he'd forget all about me if a whole long summer went by without seeing me. At the end of the year, the whole school took a field trip to the roller rink. Naturally this was very exciting, Daniel or no. But the fact that Daniel would be there made it all the more exciting. I loved to skate, and I was a pretty fast skater, too. I loved doing the limbo, and the hokey pokey, and all the races. But most of all, I loved the couple skate. When the DJ lowered the lights, turned on the disco ball and called over the speaker "Ladies and gentlemen, its time to find that special someone" I decided it was now or never. I skated right up to Daniel and asked if he would couple skate with me. Daniel, with his sweet smile and black hair, leaned forward, hands resting on his knees and looked at me. Kindly he said, "Well, how about this. I am fifteen and you are about ten. Since I'm still a little too old for you, how about we wait until you are fifteen and I am twenty? I'd love to couple skate with you then. Is it a deal?" My face broke out into a huge smile. "Sure!" He ruffled my hair, and I skated off happily, dreaming of being fifteen and Daniel being twenty and us couple skating, hand in hand, forever.
I couple skated with my best friend as I told her all about mine and Daniel's plans for the future.
I pined away for Daniel all year. Even though other crushes certainly existed, none were as fantastic as Daniel. I just knew that if only Daniel knew me, he'd fall in love with me-- and maybe he'd hold my hand!
Daniel was always so nice to me. He knew my older brother, so he sort of knew me. He knew my name and would say hi to me the few times I would be passing through the high school halls on my way to art or choir. All my friends were sure he liked me back. I jumped to any occasion that my teacher would need an errand run down to the high school halls. When I could get away with it, I used the high school girls bathroom in hopes that one of the girls would tell me Daniel has been talking about me. I waited patiently for this boy all year. Any minute, I knew it was coming. The romance of a lifetime.
As the school year neared the close, I became anxious. Surely he'd forget all about me if a whole long summer went by without seeing me. At the end of the year, the whole school took a field trip to the roller rink. Naturally this was very exciting, Daniel or no. But the fact that Daniel would be there made it all the more exciting. I loved to skate, and I was a pretty fast skater, too. I loved doing the limbo, and the hokey pokey, and all the races. But most of all, I loved the couple skate. When the DJ lowered the lights, turned on the disco ball and called over the speaker "Ladies and gentlemen, its time to find that special someone" I decided it was now or never. I skated right up to Daniel and asked if he would couple skate with me. Daniel, with his sweet smile and black hair, leaned forward, hands resting on his knees and looked at me. Kindly he said, "Well, how about this. I am fifteen and you are about ten. Since I'm still a little too old for you, how about we wait until you are fifteen and I am twenty? I'd love to couple skate with you then. Is it a deal?" My face broke out into a huge smile. "Sure!" He ruffled my hair, and I skated off happily, dreaming of being fifteen and Daniel being twenty and us couple skating, hand in hand, forever.
I couple skated with my best friend as I told her all about mine and Daniel's plans for the future.
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
A Story
In eighth grade I stopped eating. I can't really remember what started it. I came back from a summer long mission trip to Pakistan, and I was skinny as a rail. I got lots of "Oh my gosh you are so skinny!" Usually not in a flattering way, but more out of shock. Still I must've liked being noticed. I've always liked being noticed. That must be what started it. For nine months (a school year) I barely ate. I might have had a chocolate chip cookie here and there or a few spoonfuls of corn at dinner to appease my mother, but that was pretty much it. For the most part, I dodged dinner time with my family, insisting I wasn't hungry, and dodged cafeteria lunch insisting I had no money. A friend might offer me her french fries, and I'd eat a couple. And that was my meal for the day.
Inside I knew I wasn't fat, and even deeper inside I knew what I was doing. Deep down I knew I was trying to become anorexic. In the quietest deepest part of my soul I knew this. I knew that I would get noticed eventually, and someone would pay attention to me-- preferably my mom or dad. I never would've admitted any of this to myself for that would've shed light on my supreme selfishness. But in my heart I knew that if I had a serious eating disorder, someone would have to care for me and pay attention to me. Someone would feel sorry for me actually. Not that my parents didn't care about me, or pay attention to me. But I had a bad case of middle-child syndrome and felt my parents never took me seriously. I was desperate for affection, and I wanted them to see how lost and alone I was. I wrote lots of poetry that year about death, suicide, murder, abortion-- all things dark and bloody. I stashed these artifacts in my pajama drawer, hoping I'd die and my broken heart would be discovered. Hoping I'd make everyone pay for what they'd done to my heart. Death seemed to me a just vengeance.
Nearing the end of the school year, one of my friends commented that I never ate. Another piped in that they noticed that, too. I just shrugged and said, "I'm just not usually hungry." They glanced at each other, obviously not buying it. They offered me their lunches. I insisted I didn't want it. They insisted on taking me to the office. On the way to the office, one of the school counselors saw me and commented, "My, Lori, you have lost a lot of weight!" I loved the way that sounded.
In the office, my friends told the receptionist that I wasn't eating, and that I hadn't been eating for a long time. I don't remember anything about being in the office, and this might be because my friends told me afterward that I had fainted. Since I can't remember fainting, I can't remember if this is true. But this is what I was told, so perhaps I did. I was sent to the counselor's office after being checked over by the school nurse. I remember having to show her my body-- my skinny, ribby body that I thought looked so cool and so attractive. I loved that I didn't even have to suck in to see my ribs poking out. I didn't so much like being told that wasn't right.
The counselor took me into her office alone and talked to me. She asked me how long this had been going on, and if I felt fat and other such questions. It was in that room that I faced the reality of what I had been doing to myself. It felt a lot stupider then. I realized that I had succeeded in hurting myself and it was more serious than I had realized. In that office, I was forced to admit to myself that I had been doing it on purpose, and I was embarrassed. The counselor called my mom and had me picked up from school.
In the car, I desperately wanted to talk to my mom about it. I wanted to blurt out all the feelings I had, I wanted to explain why I'd done this, I wanted to cry and have her hug me and tell me it was going to be alright. But my mom didn't talk about it. She told me it was nothing to be upset about, and that I was fine. She didn't take it seriously. She didn't take me seriously. We never talked about it again.
Inside I knew I wasn't fat, and even deeper inside I knew what I was doing. Deep down I knew I was trying to become anorexic. In the quietest deepest part of my soul I knew this. I knew that I would get noticed eventually, and someone would pay attention to me-- preferably my mom or dad. I never would've admitted any of this to myself for that would've shed light on my supreme selfishness. But in my heart I knew that if I had a serious eating disorder, someone would have to care for me and pay attention to me. Someone would feel sorry for me actually. Not that my parents didn't care about me, or pay attention to me. But I had a bad case of middle-child syndrome and felt my parents never took me seriously. I was desperate for affection, and I wanted them to see how lost and alone I was. I wrote lots of poetry that year about death, suicide, murder, abortion-- all things dark and bloody. I stashed these artifacts in my pajama drawer, hoping I'd die and my broken heart would be discovered. Hoping I'd make everyone pay for what they'd done to my heart. Death seemed to me a just vengeance.
Nearing the end of the school year, one of my friends commented that I never ate. Another piped in that they noticed that, too. I just shrugged and said, "I'm just not usually hungry." They glanced at each other, obviously not buying it. They offered me their lunches. I insisted I didn't want it. They insisted on taking me to the office. On the way to the office, one of the school counselors saw me and commented, "My, Lori, you have lost a lot of weight!" I loved the way that sounded.
In the office, my friends told the receptionist that I wasn't eating, and that I hadn't been eating for a long time. I don't remember anything about being in the office, and this might be because my friends told me afterward that I had fainted. Since I can't remember fainting, I can't remember if this is true. But this is what I was told, so perhaps I did. I was sent to the counselor's office after being checked over by the school nurse. I remember having to show her my body-- my skinny, ribby body that I thought looked so cool and so attractive. I loved that I didn't even have to suck in to see my ribs poking out. I didn't so much like being told that wasn't right.
The counselor took me into her office alone and talked to me. She asked me how long this had been going on, and if I felt fat and other such questions. It was in that room that I faced the reality of what I had been doing to myself. It felt a lot stupider then. I realized that I had succeeded in hurting myself and it was more serious than I had realized. In that office, I was forced to admit to myself that I had been doing it on purpose, and I was embarrassed. The counselor called my mom and had me picked up from school.
In the car, I desperately wanted to talk to my mom about it. I wanted to blurt out all the feelings I had, I wanted to explain why I'd done this, I wanted to cry and have her hug me and tell me it was going to be alright. But my mom didn't talk about it. She told me it was nothing to be upset about, and that I was fine. She didn't take it seriously. She didn't take me seriously. We never talked about it again.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Pre-marital Counseling
Tomorrow is our 6th and final session of counseling with my pastor.
Tomorrow, therefore, is "the sex talk".
GAH!!! (Runs away)
Tomorrow, therefore, is "the sex talk".
GAH!!! (Runs away)
Monday, July 26, 2004
Poems
Ok, a little dorky, but...
I've set up a poetry blog. I am unsure as of right now if I should add comments to it. As much as I'd like people's feedback, I'm not so sure if that is what I want my poetry blog to be. I think I'd be antsy to know people's opinions, but on the other hand, really, how many people are even gonna read it all that often? So we'll see. Anyway, I've posted two poems to start off with. I hope you enjoy. I'll try to post poems regularly.
I have to admit, I typically roll my eyes at such things as "poetry blogs" because generally I hate poetry. *Grins. That's what makes me such a great poet, I suppose. But you judge for yourselves. And if I decide to enable comments, then you shall be free to share your judgments with me.
And this concludes my advertisement. I probably will bring up my poetry blog only seldomly, as I do not expect many people to be terribly interested. It is more for me to get back into the swing of writing than for boring my meager blogging audience.
Thank you for your time.
*EDIT: Comments enabled.
I've set up a poetry blog. I am unsure as of right now if I should add comments to it. As much as I'd like people's feedback, I'm not so sure if that is what I want my poetry blog to be. I think I'd be antsy to know people's opinions, but on the other hand, really, how many people are even gonna read it all that often? So we'll see. Anyway, I've posted two poems to start off with. I hope you enjoy. I'll try to post poems regularly.
I have to admit, I typically roll my eyes at such things as "poetry blogs" because generally I hate poetry. *Grins. That's what makes me such a great poet, I suppose. But you judge for yourselves. And if I decide to enable comments, then you shall be free to share your judgments with me.
And this concludes my advertisement. I probably will bring up my poetry blog only seldomly, as I do not expect many people to be terribly interested. It is more for me to get back into the swing of writing than for boring my meager blogging audience.
Thank you for your time.
*EDIT: Comments enabled.
Hello people,
I haven't posted in a while, I know. And Lori is getting upset, so I'll make a quick note before she gets home and I call her, so she'll be happy with me ;).
Well, my new job is easy, which is good and bad, since it means it also gets boring. But I'm being entrusted to check other people's work already, so I must be doing something right.
TMI (Teen Missions International) are here right now. That's the organisation that Lori was with when I first met her. They are fun kids, but a lot more divisive than any I've ever seen before. Usually there are around three big groups, but this year there are lots of little groups. The leaders aren't doing much to remedy the situation (like busting their ass for pairing off), so it's unlikely to get better.
This year the annoying young one is a girl.
This year everyone is breaking the rules. Kissing left, right and centre, pairing off, drinking, blablabla. Not a good year. ;).
I haven't posted in a while, I know. And Lori is getting upset, so I'll make a quick note before she gets home and I call her, so she'll be happy with me ;).
Well, my new job is easy, which is good and bad, since it means it also gets boring. But I'm being entrusted to check other people's work already, so I must be doing something right.
TMI (Teen Missions International) are here right now. That's the organisation that Lori was with when I first met her. They are fun kids, but a lot more divisive than any I've ever seen before. Usually there are around three big groups, but this year there are lots of little groups. The leaders aren't doing much to remedy the situation (like busting their ass for pairing off), so it's unlikely to get better.
This year the annoying young one is a girl.
This year everyone is breaking the rules. Kissing left, right and centre, pairing off, drinking, blablabla. Not a good year. ;).
Gotta. kill. forty. minutes...
I went into my math test this afternoon nearly in tears, praying that God would spare me and give me a D- anything but an F. I've not made an F the entire time I've been in college... I can't even comprehend what that would do to my grade if I made an F. Does that mean you automatically fail the class? I don't know, I've never made an F before.
I took the test, double checked every single answer and turned it in, feeling resigned.
And somehow I got an A. My first math A! Jesus is so good.
In other news:
I want to make a website like this. This is mega-super-adorable cute.
I went into my math test this afternoon nearly in tears, praying that God would spare me and give me a D- anything but an F. I've not made an F the entire time I've been in college... I can't even comprehend what that would do to my grade if I made an F. Does that mean you automatically fail the class? I don't know, I've never made an F before.
I took the test, double checked every single answer and turned it in, feeling resigned.
And somehow I got an A. My first math A! Jesus is so good.
In other news:
I want to make a website like this. This is mega-super-adorable cute.
Friday, July 23, 2004
Tartan Troubles and Bridesmaid Dress Blues
Scott, you need to post...
I have a headache. I've had it for almost a week now.
My bridesmaids' dresses came in yesterday. They are a slightly wrong color of red. But I guess it doesn't matter. The colors for my wedding are all shited anyway- the boys couldn't get the McFarlane black-and-white in time (no comment on the fact that they could've been fitted sooner) so now my wedding will be the wrong shade of red and hunter green/blue/red/purple as they opted for the McFarlane hunting. Which is fine. The hunting tartan is certainly better than the others for a nice occasion. But my wedding is gonna look like Christmas now...
(I sure like to call our wedding MY wedding a lot. I suppose it's because I'm planning it all alone. If I ask Scott for imput, his imput is almost always "Uh auh." )
I made a delicious low fat chocolate cake last night. It is delightful. Weightwatchers. It is so dense and full of flavor and a tiny slice (2 points!) is more than enough to hit the spot. Oooh, I ought to top it with drizzling strawberries....
I'm getting married in 56 days. My heart can barely stand this loneliness. 56 days may not sound like much, but it is really too long. On the bright side though, I'll see him in 49. That sounds so much better.
I miss my mommy and daddy. I think I'll go see them next weekend.
I'm selling a bike, a computer, and a car. Any takers? (Taylor, you can still totally have first dibs on the computer if you still want it *wink. That is if you can still get a good one out of your parents for graduation.)
Hasta.
I have a headache. I've had it for almost a week now.
My bridesmaids' dresses came in yesterday. They are a slightly wrong color of red. But I guess it doesn't matter. The colors for my wedding are all shited anyway- the boys couldn't get the McFarlane black-and-white in time (no comment on the fact that they could've been fitted sooner) so now my wedding will be the wrong shade of red and hunter green/blue/red/purple as they opted for the McFarlane hunting. Which is fine. The hunting tartan is certainly better than the others for a nice occasion. But my wedding is gonna look like Christmas now...
(I sure like to call our wedding MY wedding a lot. I suppose it's because I'm planning it all alone. If I ask Scott for imput, his imput is almost always "Uh auh." )
I made a delicious low fat chocolate cake last night. It is delightful. Weightwatchers. It is so dense and full of flavor and a tiny slice (2 points!) is more than enough to hit the spot. Oooh, I ought to top it with drizzling strawberries....
I'm getting married in 56 days. My heart can barely stand this loneliness. 56 days may not sound like much, but it is really too long. On the bright side though, I'll see him in 49. That sounds so much better.
I miss my mommy and daddy. I think I'll go see them next weekend.
I'm selling a bike, a computer, and a car. Any takers? (Taylor, you can still totally have first dibs on the computer if you still want it *wink. That is if you can still get a good one out of your parents for graduation.)
Hasta.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Lori-dar for today calls for sunny skies...
Man, things quieted down fast around here.
I've been getting lots of response cards back in the mail. It's a fun thing. Everyday learning that someone new is coming to the wedding. It's exciting. This weekend I'm taking bridal portraits. I have some tiny wedding errands to run this week. I love our wedding!
This morning I did some more Mormon research. Christians believe that there is only one God, and He is made up of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, but is still only one. (This is the trinity.) Mormons believe that God is actually three Gods, distinctly three but "lone in purpose." Here are a list of Mormon verses (mostly out of the Book of Mormon but a few from the Doctrines & Covenants) that state the opposite, that God is indeed one God, not three. Alma 11:25-31, Alma 11:35, Alma 11:44, Mormon 7:7, Ether 2:8, 2 Nephi 31:21, 3 Nephi 11:27, 3 Nephi 11:36, and D&C 20:27-29. As 1 John 5:7 states, "For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one." It seems to me that the Book of Mormon agrees. So why are Mormons preaching something contrary not only to the Bible, but even to their own sources?
Let's see, anything else exciting? Not really. I imagine you did not find any of the above exciting either. It's probably just me. I'm quite the lame-o.
My hair, by the way, looks quite nice today.
My mother is buying me lingerie.
I've eaten 8 points today. 'Bout to make it 11.
I want you all to know Jesus.
I want to know him better myself.
I've been getting lots of response cards back in the mail. It's a fun thing. Everyday learning that someone new is coming to the wedding. It's exciting. This weekend I'm taking bridal portraits. I have some tiny wedding errands to run this week. I love our wedding!
This morning I did some more Mormon research. Christians believe that there is only one God, and He is made up of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, but is still only one. (This is the trinity.) Mormons believe that God is actually three Gods, distinctly three but "lone in purpose." Here are a list of Mormon verses (mostly out of the Book of Mormon but a few from the Doctrines & Covenants) that state the opposite, that God is indeed one God, not three. Alma 11:25-31, Alma 11:35, Alma 11:44, Mormon 7:7, Ether 2:8, 2 Nephi 31:21, 3 Nephi 11:27, 3 Nephi 11:36, and D&C 20:27-29. As 1 John 5:7 states, "For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one." It seems to me that the Book of Mormon agrees. So why are Mormons preaching something contrary not only to the Bible, but even to their own sources?
Let's see, anything else exciting? Not really. I imagine you did not find any of the above exciting either. It's probably just me. I'm quite the lame-o.
My hair, by the way, looks quite nice today.
My mother is buying me lingerie.
I've eaten 8 points today. 'Bout to make it 11.
I want you all to know Jesus.
I want to know him better myself.
Sunday, July 18, 2004
It's been a good weekend.
I made our figurines for the wedding cake.
And Scott sent me an Ice Bat for sort of our anniversary. (It was really just for no reason. But then we realized that our one year is in a week so it sort of works.)
Ok, and by the way, the new "user friendly" blogger format is pissing me off. Ok.
I love Scott. He's about to be my husband. Shoop!
I made our figurines for the wedding cake.
And Scott sent me an Ice Bat for sort of our anniversary. (It was really just for no reason. But then we realized that our one year is in a week so it sort of works.)
Ok, and by the way, the new "user friendly" blogger format is pissing me off. Ok.
I love Scott. He's about to be my husband. Shoop!
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