Christmas Eve Day

It was Christmas Eve day. I was at work. I worked from 5am-1pm. Our store manager, Deb, has a tradition. Every Christmas Eve day she cooks breakfast for all of the workers. Deb is an incredible cook, so naturally this is what we all had been talking about for several days. The breakfast tradition was so great that we had many people tell us that even though they had the day off, they were coming in for breakfast. My manager, and good friend, Becky, was one such person. Connie and I could handle everything without her, but she was going to come in to meet up with us during our lunch time, so we could all enjoy Christmas Eve day together. The time that was chosen was 9:30.
Around 8:45, we got a call from Becky saying she had errands she needed to run after we ate breakfast, so would we be able to eat at 9:00? Both Connie and I agreed, and we met Becky back there at 9:00.

The food was just as we had known it would be. There was tons of it laid out everywhere. There were 6 different kinds of eggs, there was sausage, bacon, cinnamon rolls, breads, multiple juices, and the hashbrowns, lots and lots and lots of hashbrowns. Deb knows that I like hash-browns, so as soon as she saw me, she waved me over and began heaping them on my plate. I didn’t say no. I had been waiting all morning for food, and they smelled incredible. I took some bacon, eggs, and joined Becky and Connie at the table. We were carrying on lively conversations with everyone who came in the break room. We were making jokes about how great it was that Shopko gave every single one of us tomorrow off. And when someone asked me how I was doing, I replied that I was great because it was Christmas eve day, and how could you be sad on Christmas eve day? I finished up my hash-browns to the great amusement of Deb, who told me to get my skinny self back in the adjoining room where the food was laid out, and get myself more hash-browns. I took orders for more drinks, and happily obliged.

I heard the page over the intercom. I hate that about myself now, I can’t help but listen to pages in any store. But the page was so normal “Deb call 451 please, Deb 451 thank you” We knew that 451 signaled an outside line, but no one thought anything of it. I was in the other room, and I could see from where I was pouring drinks Deb stand up and go to the phone that hung on the wall. My attention went back to the drinks. The next thing I knew she was yelling “Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God. No. No. No. No. It’s not true. Oh my God” She hit the wall near the phone, and yelled again. Both rooms became deathly silent. No one knew what to do. After the longest moments in my life, she hung up the phone, and turned to the people in the other room. She spoke, I could see her lips moving, but from where I was, I couldn’t hear what she said. And then suddenly, I heard shrieks from the other room. They were of differing pitches, sounds, words, but one thing was clear, everyone was hurting. I didn’t know what to do, should I walk back in the room with the drinks, or just stand awkwardly in the other room. I took the drinks and walked back in. If you could have seen these people’s faces when I left the room, and when I returned a few moments later, you would have been shocked. It was deathly silent in the room. But it wasn’t silent. People were moaning. One lady had her face on the table, and you could hear her sobs. Becky was sitting shaking her head back and forth, back and forth. Connie sat with a look of astonishment, no tears, no anger, just shock. Another lady sat and stared at the wall, silent tears streaming down her face. One of the men had pushed his food away, and sat staring at the table, no tears, but his hands were shaking. Deb was standing near the phone, her hands rubbing away the tears. But it was useless, her tears kept coming, I wondered why she even tried to wipe them away. I sat down, 3 drinks in my one hand, and a plate of hash-browns in the other. I sat in between Becky and Connie. No one said anything. I looked to Becky. I placed my hand on her shoulder, and she met my eyes. I almost recoiled. The look of pure pain in her eyes was unlike anything I had ever seen before. I asked the only words that could form in my mouth, “What happened” She just looked at me, she brought her hand around to rest on my shoulder. That might have been the most frightening gesture I’ve ever received. She was comforting me before she told me what was wrong. She said, “Joanne’s daughter and grandbaby were instantly killed in a car accident this morning. Joanne is on her way to the hospital, but they already told her that they’re both dead.”

You don’t know Joanne. But I do. I know that Joanne has one daughter, Shannon. I know that Joanne was so proud of Shannon. I know that Joanne was so proud of the way that Shannon was working her way through night school. I know that that was the reason that Joanne encouraged me so many times to keep working through school, to never give up, to not quit, because she knew how hard it was for Shannon to go back. I know that after 7 years of marriage, of tests, of praying, of trying, Shannon and her husband Ed, happily announced that Shannon was pregnant. I know that Joanne announced excitedly over the intercom system that come June, she was going to be a Grandma. I know that Joanne would constantly ask me about the infant apparel clearance, she wanted the baby to have enough of everything. I know that Joanne went to Josh, her manager, and told him that he had to give her every Thursday off once the baby was born, that was her babysitting day. I know the day she got the call that the baby was coming, she could barely finish a sentence she was so excited. I know the day she came back to work after the baby was born, she brought her baby book that she was building for her granddaughter. I know the times she would bring in the baby on her day off so we could meet and play with her. And I know the day that Deb received that awful call. I know that in our local paper in their specialty “Baby’s 1st Christmas” they had a picture of Shannon and Ed’s little girl. I know that that same paper was the one that had pictures of the accident. I know all of those things, but you don’t.

I feel like I should have finishing thoughts. But I don’t. I’m not sure how I should finish this post.

I'm Back

I have been internet-less since Friday which is a lot harder than it sounds.
I wrote these all on different days and am just now getting a chance to post them.

The internet is a beautiful thing.

Happy New Year

Idealism

Do you have a friend that you enjoy because of a specific character quality of theirs?

I have a few friends like this. Most recently, I was thinking about a boy that I know. He is an enjoyable person to spend time with. I laugh at him, and he gets annoyed by me - we share a beautiful relationship. This friend's quality that I enjoy particularly is his idealism. He is possibly the most idealistic boy I know. The funny thing is that he is smart enough to realize that he shouldn't be idealistic, but he likes his idealism so much that he doesn't want to be realistic. I enjoy that about him. He is, however, almost ready to graduate, and will therefore be effectively taken out of my life. I am okay with that. We're not that great of friends, and we never communicate outside of college.

We have now come to my point; our last conversation centered around him growing up and sex. You see, he is in a relationship right now, a "perfect in every way except one" (his words) relationship. The only element that is lacking in this relationship is sex specifically that they're not having any. He explained how all of the little "issues" in their relationship would work themselves out once they were married and could have sex. I laughed at him, and he got annoyed by me - continuing our beautiful relationship. I have known him for 4 years now, and I know that he firmly believes every word he says.

Throughout our whole relationship, sex to him has been the unattainable, the end-all be-all, the pinnacle, the final frontier. And I began to wonder what he would be like...after. After he's married, after he's had sex, after he's fought with his wife. He's going to marry this girl, I would be genuinely surprised if he doesn't. So, let's say I run into him 5 years down the road, he is married and has a child. Will he be as idealistic about sex then as he is now? Would he still say that sex can solve any problem in a marriage/relationship? Or, will he have transferred his idealism to something else? Maybe the success of his child, his position at work, or his financial situation. Will that then become the unattainable? Or, will he lose his idealism? I told you he was smart, maybe once he decides that sex can't do it all, he'll become a bitter, cynical man angry at himself for grasping and reaching so long for something that has not given long-term fulfillment.

Reader, here is the horrible truth, I don't want to know how this story ends. I enjoy him as he is now, horribly idealistic about one thing. So, if you see him 5 years down the road, don't let me know how he turned out, I'm not sure I could handle any of the options.

Shock Value

I do not shock easily. Trust me. People have tried. I have a couple theories as to why this might be:
I have lived around a college campus my entire life. My very existence has been surrounded by college-age students who try to shock one another. Maybe it is because I have grown up around this, or maybe it is because I just don't shock easily, but now, being a college-age student, these feeble attempts at shocking seem to be even more, well, feeble.

I think the problem with most comments designed to bring shock value, is that they tend to be centered around standards:

Such as:
"I would let my girls wear slits, but only in 2 or 3 of their skirts"

"I go to the movies while I'm at school but don't tell anyone"

"My two favorite movies are Braveheart, and Hitch so that should show you how loose I am in my movie standards"

"I think when my children are older, I will, if they're with someone, let them go into a Tommy Hilfiger store"

"Sometimes, I don't vote Republican"

"I have nothing against any forms, of any types, of any kinds, of any genres, of music. *pause* That means I listen to CCM"

These comments do absolutely nothing for me (except lower the amount of respect I give to that person). I sit there and wait for them to realize how stupid they sound. I sit there and wait for them to realize that I am not going to argue that with them. I sit there and wait for them to realize that no one cares about their stupid comment. But no matter how long I sit there and wait all I ever get is ....

"Bet you weren't expecting that, huh now where you?"

"Oops, did I just say that? Oh well. Don't tell anyone"

"Sorry if I shocked you."

Each one is equally horrible in its own right, and equally pathetic in its own way. Although the middle one is the most used (especially in a Christian College campus), the last one might be the most personally offensive to me.

I just wish I could say, "Trust me - you aren't shocking me".

I say all of this to say that recently I was shocked by something someone said.
Completely, 100%, all-out, totally, amazingly, and disgustingly shocked.
What they said had nothing to do with standards, it had nothing to do with gossip, movies, or doctrine. None of those above phrases were mentioned. None of that stupidity was there. Maybe that was my problem? Because I knew that this person wasn't stupid, I wasn't worried about hearing any of those above phrases. Maybe that's why I was shocked. When they said the 2 or 3 sentences, I became horribly offended, and shocked. They were so serious, they were so very serious.
I was disgusted with how they treated this issue.

And yes, I was also shocked. I still am shocked. I look back at it and am in awe that any human being would say that, but worse than saying it, they would believe it.

Why am I shocked?

Meet me...21 days from now

It's that time of year.....

...when finals and projects pile up. No matter how well you plan, this has always been, and will always be crunch time.

...when sleep becomes nothing more than a sweet, distant memory.

...when I can't remember for the life of me why I chose retail as my current profession. Seriously, I have no idea.

...when I realize that no matter how many great ideas I have for Christmas presents, I will never have enough money to fulfill them all.

...when you don't hear from me.

You read that last one and you felt like protesting. You wanted to say, "Joanna, we never hear from you now as it is. And that is true. But here is what you do not understand:

Out of 100% of my time.
50% is spent on school.
40% on work.
3% on sleep.
1% on family.
1% on food.
1% on football.
1% on friend interaction. (Because at this point, all we're doing is e-mailing, and texting, and quick conversations. Nothing real)
3% on personal pleasure (books, movies, music, surfing the web, blogging....)

But now that it is crunch time. This is the new list:

85% on school.
10% on work.
1% on Christmas present thinking, shopping.
1% on football, playoffs, important articles
2% on Christmas programs. (Church -2 nights. School -2 nights. Family - 2 weekends.)
1% on sleep and food.

Do you see my dilemma? You have quite simply been cut out of the picture for the next 20 days of my life.

But 20 days from now, ah sweet, blessed relief. The world will be a perfect place, my mind will be at rest. I shall relax, and hopefully sleep in.
But before that, I have so incredibly much to do that I should not be sitting here telling you about it.

Have a great next 20 days of your life.

I will endeavor to survive the next 20 days of my life.

As I know that this post will give you great sadness, I leave you with a promise: 21 days from now, I will post. It may be just one sentence, but it will be there - just as long as I am still here.

See you 21 days from now.

That's right - my life is better than yours

Seriously, you have no idea.

I could write out a long explanation of everything that has happened to me in the past week. I could talk to you for hours about all of the papers, tests, quizzes, and more papers that I turned in, and or took early. But I won't. All you need to know is that it was all worth it. Tomorrow, I leave for choir tour. While I am on that choir tour, I want you to bear in mind that EVERYTHING that I miss, I have already made up (with the exception of 1 test). Yes, that is correct. I have made up a whole week of school early. I feel pretty good about myself. I am utterly exhausted. My brain has not been able to function on anything other than schoolwork for the past week and a half. But it doesn't even matter anymore - I'm missing a whole week of school.

I have reserved this night for fun only.

I'm going to take a nap.
I'm going to go out to eat at my new favorite place to eat (more details coming soon)
I'm not going to pack at all. I'm a quick packer, I can do it all tomorrow.
I'm going to watch movies. Good movies.
I'm going to sleep in.
I'm going to relax - without once thinking about schoolwork.

I feel like I can breathe again. Sweet, sweet relief.


This should be good for you too, last choir tour I came out with 4 or 5 posts. I'm so very excited.

A Night at the Symphony (with apologies to the Marx Brothers)

I went to the symphony last night. To fully explain this post, we must start off with the background. I've split them up into 2 separate but equally important views.

Background view 1:
I was talking to a girl a few weeks ago. She is a Music Ed. major. I asked her what I thought was a very simple question, "Are you going to the symphony?" Her reaction, was not so simple. She recoiled, a look of disbelief came upon her face, she opened her mouth and the most shocked voice came out, "For entertainment?" She dragged out the word en--ter--tain--ment as if to accentuate that entertainment has 4 syllables, or maybe she was unsure of how to pronounce the word (each are valid options). I was surprised. I said, "You are a music major". She answered, "I'm not like that." I didn't press her to find out what "like that" meant, since I am assuming it meant listening to classical music of your own volition, or something equally stupid like that.
But now, in true Joanna form, I have re-thought this conversation. I wish I had not gone down the music major path, that path is weary, downtrodden, and most of the time (sister excluded) it doesn't deserve to be defended. I do wish, however, that I had gone down the entertainment path.

Background View 2:
In the past few weeks, I have been an unwilling observer/listener/half-participator of people's conversations about movies. Now, you know I like movies. We go over this on a regular basis. But you may not know this: I like movies so much, that I purposely do not talk about them with certain people.
And within one week, I have had 5 conversations about movies, 4 of which were with people that I don't talk about movies with, and only 1 out of those 5 was I was truly participating in.

[Note: When I am not participating in a movie conversation, I usually listen, and make sarcastic remarks about movies mentioned. I offer some good movies for people to watch, see how they are accepted/rejected, and then back down. Listen to people talk about actors/actresses and decide whether I will ever speak to this person again. I also tend to stay far away from recommending movies in groups. That doesn't follow the holy rules of recommendations (previous post). I usually listen more than I talk, laugh more than I should, and hear more than I ought.]

I promise you, I did not start these conversations. I did not want to hear these people talk about movies. But they did. And I heard it. And I thought about it. And here I am.

Conclusion:
The greatest problem in America (don't worry, I'm not starting another series) is our conception of entertainment. That conception is why people are stupid. It is why people don't read real books. It is why people have horrible movie choices. It is why people don't go to symphony concerts. It is why people can't converse about the election intelligently. (which, hallelujah is over). And it is why I don't talk to you.

We have such a weak view of entertainment. We hold books/music/movies to such a low standard. That standard is only a momentary amusement or enjoyment. That's all we're asking for out of our books/music/movies. And then, the few, rare, options that come across our path that are on a slightly higher plane, we appreciate them only because they make us feel wise. But that, right there is the problem. The real versions of books/music/movies don't make us feel wise, they actually make us wise.
True "entertainment" is not a diversion. It is a thought process.


You don't go to the Symphony for entertainment, you go because you need to be reminded of how powerful music is.

You don't read a book for entertainment, you read a book because you need to see characters come alive, you need to hear thoughts that you haven't thought before, you need to go where you haven't gone before.

You don't listen to music for entertainment, you listen to music, because at times, there is nothing else in the world more important to do.

You don't watch a movie for entertainment, you watch a movie because you need to learn.



It's not about entertainment, it's about education. And it's become clear that many people are sorely in need of one.