the new addition to my face

i kind of left you guys hanging after that last post--sorry about that. i actually began this post a week ago, but never got back to it. this one is going to be a kind of summation of the last couple of weeks. in short, i decided to stay in the architecture program, and even though the financial frustrations are pretty great, the alternative (putting off school for another year, finding a job that will hire me for a year and pay enough for me to live and pay bills, etc.) seemed really unappealing. so here i am, and i have to say that i love denver and colorado more and more all the time. the only things lacking are the people i wish i could have by my side and a church that i feel really challenges me in my relationship with jesus. this last point is the thing i want to discuss most.

pathways
i have visited a church here in denver called pathways twice, tonight being the second time. it is similar in some ways to the grove: they meet on sunday nights, it's made up of mostly white 20-30-somethings, and would be classified as "contemporary", i suppose. there are some things about it that i like. i like the similar format, but it would almost be better to switch to something so different from the grove because i find myself more often than not weighing everything against the grove. they have a social justice ministry group that meets regularly, though i'm not exactly sure what they do outside of providing for the needs of refugees in our country, which is great, don't misunderstand me. the downside is that, despite the "good feeling" i get about the staff and mission of the church, there seems to be no life/passion/enthusiasm in the body. they have a decent list of ways to get "involved", but on Sunday nights, it feels like i'm the only one singing in the congregation. this church has another campus a little further south that meets in the morning. i may check that out and see if it's just the people at this service. i also want to find out more about this social justice ministry.

church in the city
this one could be my favorite thus far. it's totally different from anything i've ever attended. the compstons and i went last week together. the two things that attracted me to it were the fact that they have a group called "heart for africa" and the church originally started as a homeless outreach ministry, which if you've been reading my blog, is a large need in denver. it was essentially a black gospel style church in it's worship. there were people in the congregation from every racial, socioeconomic background, and as a complete contrast to what i found at pathways, everyone was clearly excited to be worshiping jesus--clapping, dancing, etc. kristen and i were really excited, until the pastor got up. it was the worst let down. he didn't seem to fit with the rest of the church. he spoke on peace, but instead of preaching out of the word, he mostly shared anecdotes and famous quotes by famous people. it was really sad. i was ready for someone to get up there and rip the word apart and let it come alive for people. his redeeming feature was that he was a messianic jew from the bronx, and at the close of the service, he sang a blessing in hebrew. it was one of the coolest things i've ever heard.

origins
last sunday night, i visited origins with the compstons again. they meet on sunday nights in boulder. it was more similar to the grove than even pathways, but i think after encountering the diversity, clear outreach and passion that morning at church in the city, i was a little deflated. it seems like a really awesome church. i have nothing really bad to say about it, except that yet again, the pastor didn't really teach fully from scripture. really the only thing that i wasn't excited about was the fact that it's in boulder, which means it's 45 minutes away from me. that will be really hard for me, but there are several people that live in broomfield, where the compstons live, so there might actually be a community group that meets there. one thing that was really exciting was that this college guy from CU made an announcement about a group they started last year committed to seeing the end of child prostitution in their lifetime. it was like the voice of God came down on a cloud and said "Here, Kristen, meet some people that love Jesus and are passionate about the exact same causes." that was really neat. kristen went to a meeting about it last week, and i think she was really encouraged by it.

as it stands, i'm not sure about churches, but there are more that i haven't even looked into yet. on another note, i spent all last weekend with the compstons. i spent the night there friday and saturday. it was a great time. yesterday, we did a six mile hike up deer mountain in rocky mountain national park, and it reminded all of us how out of shape we are. i spent the night with them last night, and then we spent the majority of today laying around and eating, recovering from our rigorous exercise the day before. life is good. i'm hanging stuff on my walls this weekend, and i promise pictures of my apartment are coming, meredith! for now, i'm including pictures below of the new addition to my face. farewell!

feeling a little nervous...

yikes!

kristen held my hand through the whole thing!

Two in one day...that's serious

I actually have some really serious decisions in front of me this week. It would take a while to explain fully, about as long as the RTD story below, but I am seriously considering dropping out of the program and deferring for a year due to financial obstacles and constraints. Please pray for me this week as I research my options and assess the situation. Pray that I will have wisdom and peace. Thanks!

these shoes weren't made for walking

subtitled: a chronicle of my travels around denver via the rtd bus system and the troubles therein

If anyone can make sense of the picture above for me, that would be great! Thus far, I haven't managed the bus system with much grace or intelligence, essentially the RTD MAN has me down. I can't read the little bus maps they hand out at the stations to save my life. I think the numbers are scheduled times that the bus stops at each stop, but why don't they have a colon, which would be a clear indicator of time?? This has been a really humbling experience for someone with fairly good directional skills and map-reading skills. I pride myself on being an excellent navigator! I haven't gotten lost in Denver yet, but I can't figure this mass transportation system out!

It all started on the first day of my workshop when, all prepared like a good little school girl, I sat down on the NW corner of the intersection of Grant and 12th Ave, right where the RTD trip planner told me to, to wait for the #10 bus, looking the perfect picture of a 13 year old at the bus stop on the first day of school, complete with backpack, giant art bag and lunch bag. I waited for 10 minutes wondering why there was no bench or sign marking the bus stop. Then the #10 pulled up at the stoplight across 12th from me, so guessing I had chosen the wrong corner, I ran across and, when he didn't open the doors for me, banged on the glass. He seemed completely annoyed but let me on anyway. As he pulled through the light I realized why he was annoyed. He was stopped at a red light; the bus stop was actually on the other side of the intersection. But as we pulled away, I soon felt uneast about the fact that we were heading in the wrong direction, east, away from downtown and the school. I got up and asked if this was the only #10 bus. He said there were many and asked where I needed to go. I told him and he informed me that I needed to get off at the next stop and cross the street to get on the #10 heading west. On the correct bus, headed in the correct direction, I realized that i hadn't actually been sitting at a bus stop at all; I had been on the Grant side of 12th and Grant and the stop was on the 12th side. That was Day 1.

Later that week, after staying late in studio, I went to my usual stop to catch the #10 home. I waited a long time and finally decided that the bus must take a different route after normal hours. So I walked the 25 minutes home, and the #10 passed me on my way. So now I know that the #10 is always the bus that I need to take to go to and from studio and home. Then I tried to figure out which bus to take from the actual campus (the architecture building is not on campus) by asking the bus drivers which route I needed. No one seemed to know. I'm not sure exactly why they work for RTD if they don't know the system, but one driver seemed to think he could get me close to my apartment. Once at the stop he told me to take, I had to walk 9 blocks home. I probably should have just walked from campus.

Which brings me to today. This afternoon, I sat out at 12th & Grant on the convenient bench provided by the city that I have now discovered. 15 minutes passed, and the bus hadn't come. I realized that with 9 minutes until class time for my first day of studio, I couldn't risk waiting any longer. So I walked. It sucked. I was wearing my little gold Greek goddess sandals (which I now never want to wear again) and formed large blisters on the balls and heels of both feet. I actually don't walk now; I waddle. Then, on my way home today, I stood up to get off at my stop and the driver didn't stop. I figred he just didn't see me stand up in time to stop, so I stood behind him, and he drove through the next stop. I now know that if there is no one waiting at a stop, the driver will not stop unless someone pulls the cord. So, I waddled the three unnecessary blocks home. Some day soon I will write a post to you all informing you that I have mastered the RTD. Until then, I'm wearing tennis shoes.

Okay, I'm ready to come home now...

I had a really fantastic weekend and close to my week. After a four-day workshop Monday through Thursday, which ended in a really encouraging critique, I went to Boulder with the Compstons for Steve's birthday Thursday night. We had dinner and then hung out at their new apartment, where I ended up spending the night. Then early Friday morning, I picked up my dear friend Polly from the airport. Friday and Saturday were great days for us to catch up on life, explore Denver and Boulder a little, get my nose pierced (yeah, I got my nose pierced finally after four years of wanting it; pictures will soon follow), and cook awesome food. Saturday night, the Compstons, Polly and Lindsay Porter (one of Polly's best friends and a girl who will be starting at Denver seminary soon- yay!) and myself all hung out here in my little one bedroom. Poor Stephen. One guy, four girls--yikes!

It was so fun to have deep meaningful conversations with Polly again and to have so many people in my apartment as opposed to just me. Polly left early this morning and Lindsay and walked and explored from one end of the 16th St mall to the other. All-in-all, a really fun weekend. So, what's with the sad title?? Well, I checked my email at 4 this afternoon, and my dad had emailed me pictures from when they were here that I hadn't looked at yet. I completely forgot that he had documented my "goodbyes" at my last Grovefest. When I opened it and saw the picture of Adam and Mere first, I lost it. I cried and cried as I scrolled through those pictures, missing my friends, missing my boyfriend, missing Fayetteville, missing the Grove. It felt like the scene in "Big" when Tom Hanks' best friend drops him off in that temporary apartment and all he can hear is gunfire and ambulances, and he just lays on the bed and cries. Okay, it's not that bad, but I do hear a lot of sirens. And there are more than just a few sketchy characters in my neighborhood. I just want Shelli and Gennie and Meredith to show up on my doorstep and never leave!!! And I want Whitney to come back from Tibet, and I want Adam and James and Justin and Stu and everyone else at the Grove to move to the Denver area. Do you think we can make all that work?? Then we can truly have the much-anticipated (at least by the Compstons and myself) Grove West church plant. It'll be fantastic--at least in my mind!

I can't call Mere or Gennie or anyone in Fayetteville because you're all at church right now. And Kristen and Stephen are hanging out with her parents. And I've already cried on the phone with Adam once, and I'm pretty sure he's at church too. So, I'm blogging. Maybe I'll end by saying thanks because for someone to feel this sad about leaving a place means that there were lots of people there that made it feel like home. I miss you guys. I love you. I'm crying again. Crap! If you're looking for a really fun/kind of shady place to visit, there's a blow-up mattress and good food waiting for you at 1180 Sherman St. #106 Denver, Colorado 80203. Come on by!

ps- Shelli, I need more of that face in my life!

Mile (High) Stones

I've been in my new apartment since Tuesday, and my parents left this morning. I think I was ready for them to go, not because I don't like hanging out with them, but just because I needed to feel like I was getting settled in my apartment. I needed to feel like I was making something my own, just the way I want it. They were amazing. We got so much done this week in the way of things that need to happen before I start my workshop on Monday. They helped me do everything. They covered all expenses. I'm extremely grateful and humbled. We hardly unpacked any boxes, but I got my Colorado plates (and my dad even put them on for me), my Colorado driver's license (it's only a paper one right now, the real one will be mailed soon), my city parking tag that enables me to park in any unmetered zones in my neighborhood of Capitol Hill (probably about 25 square blocks). I emphasize unmetered because I already got a ticket; I thought with my parking tag I could park anywhere, even meters. Idiot! But that's right. I'm officially a resident of the state of Colorado; I even registered to vote (be proud John). That's more than I ever did in Arkansas, even though Fayetteville became my home. We also watched the Rockies get killed by the Cubs this week, and we purchased some really awesome furniture, since I didn't own anything.

I live two blocks south of the Capitol building. You can see it straight at the end of Sherman St. when you step out my apartment door. I have to admit it's freaking awesome and scary and sad all at the same time. It's actually always been a dream of mine to move to a big city after I graduated from college, all by myself, where I don't know anyone. Well, I did it. Right now it's as lonely as I thought it would be, but hidden in that loneliness is the idea that I'm starting out new, making my own way, taking risks. It's all very exciting!

My apartment is awesome. It's not without it's quirks, but I love it! My bedroom closet smells like a dead grandmother; I occasionally lose water pressure for no apparent reason; my kitchen is about the same size as Stephen and Kristen's at their soon-to-be old apartment, and the toilet sometimes growls like it's hungry and drains all the water from it, reminding me of Gennie's childhood fear that the toilet wanted to eat her poop. It's a small one-bedroom with old wood floors, no air conditioning, furnace heaters, and an unusually large amount of storage space. This afternoon I worked on unpacking and got the kitchen, bathroom and most of the living room settled. I promise pictures will come soon; I just don't have a digital camera. I'm old-school.

This afternoon was the first time I've felt sad. I dropped my parents off at the airport, held it together and then called Kristen to find out that she was hanging out with most of my favorite women in Fayetteville. I had a momentary tear session while I read a card from Mere-Mere, and then decided proactively that I would go for a run instead of crawling into my bed and crying. So, I ran (or walked, really), which brings me to Denver culture shock.

A few things have been a little different here. Some I can get used to; some will be difficult. Our first day in town, we went to campus to work out my loans, and came across 30 or so homeless guys hanging out at the soup kitchen set up on one of the sidewalks on campus. I have seen so many homeless people since being here. I mean, I was used to it in Memphis, but it's been a while since I've been around it and sadly it's much worse than Memphis here. Behind my apartment, there are three dumpsters and several more along the length of the alleyway that runs the full length of the block. Not a day has passed that I haven't seen and/or heard people digging through them. It's heart-breaking. I'm hoping to get involved with some organization here that works with homeless. I just can't walk by every day and not do anything. I actually live on the first floor in the apartment at the very back of the building, so the alley runs right behind my apartment. My bedroom and kitchen windows look out onto it. At night, it is really obnoxiously noisy.

I love this city though. Driving around the last few days has made me really excited about where I've relocated to. There are so many neat areas around town that are like little mini communities, especially the area I live in. Right now I'm sitting in a local micro-brewery/restaurant enjoying a stout beer and using the free wireless internet provided by the city of Denver on the 16th St. Mall. It's much like Pearl St. in Boulder, a pedestrian-only street with shops and restaurants lining each side, but it feels a little more commercialized. They're doing their next tapping at this brewery (I don't even really know what that means) on August 16, Stephen's birthday. Maybe the Compston's and I can come here to celebrate?? A couple of things you can pray for me: a bubbly, friendly girl (even if she's not a believer) and no creeper guys in my studio class (actually, if you could pray for a creeper-free zone in my apartment and at school, that would be great). Also, pray that I find a church to get plugged into, one in which I can find intimate community. Thanks! Please, send me an email! I would love to hear from my beloved friends, wherever they are! I miss you all and love you so!

Now I'm going home to make some jambalaya and watch a movie!

Miss Adventured

subtitled, "Have Some Reading Material, Mr. Compston"

Okay, so I haven't posted in over two months; I've picked up on the less-than-subtle hints. The last three months have been a definitive whirlwind--full of building new relationships, investing in old ones, finishing up chapters, preparing to begin new ones, packing, boxes, saying goodbye in stages, weddings and lots and lots of traveling. Most everyone who reads my blog (or used to, I should say) is pretty intimately connected to the details in between.

As someone who hasn't exactly felt "stable" in the physical sense in about 8 months, I've been thinking alot about the idea of home and the need for a sense of place. Living with the Davises was really interesting at times and mostly alot of fun, but it was a really temporary place that I of course never felt settled in. Since the Hirschy's wedding, I've been living out of my car and a couple of suitcases. During the recent trip I just returned from, everyone kept talking about looking forward to sleeping in their own bed. That sounded great to me, too, only I don't have my own bed. I haven't slept in my own bed since I moved out of the duplex with my lovely roomies.

I say all of this to say this: even though moving to Denver means saying goodbye to the people (outside of my family and s couple good friends) I love most in this world, I'm looking forward to the new place, new beginning and the chance to finally settle in for a while. I'm going to have my own bed. I'm going to have my own kitchen. I'm not going to have a roommate--alright, that part sucks. Here I go! Please, come visit me.

On a complete sidenote, I'm going to Rogers today with Adam to eat lunch with Lonnie and check out one of his jobs he's working on. For any of you that know Adam's stepdad, it's going to be a really good time. I'm pretty excited about it. Stay tuned for some tales from afar (about my trip, that is; I promised some posts about my travels).