A Few Ode-to-WKU Letters...

A beautiful campus, located on top of the only hill in Bowling Green, KY.

Our school mascot. Supposedly, red blobs represent a "hill-topper."

Just saying "hilltoppers" did not prepare me for the breath-taking (literally) campus.

Dear WKU, School of "the Hill-Toppers",
   I know that you think that your steep hills and practically vertical stair cases are "good for my health" but in actuality I prefer life, not death.
     Sincerely,
       I'm Completely Out of Breath

Dear WKU,
   I know that as a student of your University I am considered a "hill-topper"; however, the truth of the matter is... I don't "top" hills. Heck, I can't even skip-to-my-lou.
     Sincerely,
      I Despise Walking On Up Campus

**Slight Dramatization**

 

Dear Subway on Campus,
   When I ask for extra napkins, I would appreciate it if you pretended NOT to know they were for mopping up my sweating face. It's your fault you are located at the top of the hill. Not mine.
     Sincerely,
Next Time I'll Pack My Own Lunch and Napkins

Dear Subway on Campus,
   Why didn't you tell me that you aren't the only Subway on campus, and that there was one closer to my office building??
     Sincerely,
       Slightly Peeved and Still Out of Breath

Dear Young and Slightly Vain Students,
    I know how inviting the grassy knoll in the middle of campus is, but it is not actually for you to lay sunbathing on.
     Sincerely,
I've Never Seen That Many Bikinis On Campus Before

Dear Lost Freshman,
    Please. When you are standing in between classrooms 110 and 109 -- don't ask me if I can help you find room 107 with a confused look on your face.
    Sincerely,
     Guess Who Is Unobservant?

A New 'First Day'

Today is the first "official" day of classes on the campus of Western Kentucky University, but it's not the same "first day of class" as it has been for the past 4 years.

I didn't go to prayer at 7:14 AM in the Curris Center at Murray State University. Instead, I prayed in my apartment. Instead of pacing in front of the same 4 potted plants that I have for years... I paced the three inches that the cord on my hair-straightner allowed me.

Breakfast was not in the T-room with all of my wonderful friends. Heck, I didn't even eat this morning -- I forgot (until now).

Parking was actually easier, and closer to my location (thanks to the gigantic parking structure in front of the Academic Complex building), and I was completely grateful for my $90 parking permit.

I'm not sitting at a desk that my thighs don't fit under in Sparks Hall (but don't get me wrong, I love that desk!) I'm sitting at a big-girl (that I am) desk with homework spread in front of me and nothing to work on besides that.

I'm not dirty-dishwater-blonde... I'm a red head.

I didn't wake up with 4 roommates in my house. One still sleeping, one eating cereal and doing her quiet time at the breakfast table, one leaning against the counter while she eats her breakfast, and the other thumping around upstairs. It was just me, and my cats (all outside, homeless, lonely ones) David and Calypso meowing outside my door for their morning chow.

I'm not carrying a backpack with all the books I could possibly need for homework and classes (in order to stay on campus without leaving), rather I'm carrying a highly fashionable and completely unlike me Vera Bradley bag with enough homework to complete 2 class assignments (which is oddly heavier than my back pack in Murray would be).

Today, Katie Gagel is not on Gmail to gab to about the latest happenings, my new red hair, the fact that I really want to fly, or that I'm still waiting for my Toms to come in the mail. Instead, she is most likely getting ready for bed... as it is around 10 PM Buson-Korea-time.

On the first day of classes... my classes aren't actually starting. Blackboard is up and running, giving me plenty to do, pages to write, and dozens of chapters to attempt to absorb; however, face-to-face classes don't start until September 10th. Shockingly enough, I will only meet a total of 6 times for each class. Yes, they are 4 hour classes... but six meetings seems so few compared to MWF and TR classes.

Tonight is the night that everyone in XA meets in the Red Zone? or Fresh Foods? (I can't remember) for dinner and meeting new people. We are not meeting in Winslop.

When I ran into a professor in the social work department today, I did not say "Dr. Chakradhar!! It's so good to see you again! How was your summer!? Have you made your rag rug yet?" Instead, I say "Hi. I'm Savannah, the new GA. You met me at orientation but I have no idea what your name is, can you remind me?" This awkward introduction is followed by an even more awkward handshake... I firmly grip is hand and shake it, then release and pull back too quickly. This causes the professor, who is still gripping my hand, to jerk forward. I guess this point should have said "today, awkward situations still happen to me."

Today I'm the lost-and-need-a-campus-map, befuddled and new person who can't answer any questions that come on the phone because I don't know any answers.

Yes, all of these things are new and different.... But a couple things remain the same.

Jesus still has His hand on my back, pushing forward to talk to the new student who came in the office to drop off papers, telling her how much I like her Bieber glasses.

When I realize that, while today is such a different "first day" than what I have had for the past four years, it's just as great, exciting and filled with new opportunities... He nods His head and smiles (I'm sure of it).

When I begin to feel stressed, panicked and overwhelmed with my schedule, He gently reminds me He is in control as He changes my schedule, my internship, and gives me a job where I can do homework.

When I feel lonely, He surrounds me and tells me something sweet.

When I find a picture of bird silhouette on a background of old lace and pressed flowers... I still squeal with delight and show the person closest to me.

It's a new day, with a big change. But it's the same me, the same source of joy, and I am still blessed and surrounded by good things.

It's worth it. Watch it.

Lamo. I know.

I know it's lame. But I can't help it.
1. I'm addicted to lists... so if I see one that I could fill out, I turn to my blog.
2. I don't have too much time to sit and write a creative post about life, Jesus, or wooden spatulas.
3. I don't remember to sit and write a creative post.
4. I read my Aunt's blog daily. It's two minutes of sliding down in my chair so my back is all slouchy and comfy, wishing that I lived in Duluth and that I had the cleverness, wit, beauty, wisdom and poetic writing rythm that my lovely Aunt does.

So I know, it's lame... but all of my (two and a half) posts that I have written lately (in the past year) are mostly responses to my Aunt's blog. Oh well. Here'goes.
Here is my list of ABC's.

Age: 22. Thankfully, this is the year that I remember this. For some odd reason it was impossible to remember, last year, that I was 21.

Bed Size: Twin. But I'm pretty sure I could stretch out on a California king all by myself. I'll need that someday (soon) when I have a job and a Golden, Malamute and Akita sharing it with me. *leap of excitement*

Chore You Hate: Folding laundry. I don't do it. I try, I make promises, I write in my journal, I pray... and nothing. It doesn't happen. I hate it. So instead, it sits in a heap on my floor. Which is fine. Someday I'll have a closet, and I'll be hanging everything up. Underwear, bra's, my Sunday best, pajamas, scarves, everything. Nothing will be in a drawer.
Pah! Silly!! Drawers are for scrapbooking material and dog toys.

Dogs: Future dogs: Golden Retriever, Malamute and Akita. Throw in a good loyal mutt too.

Essential Start of Your Day: An extra hour of sleep.

Favorite Color: Turquoise, Grey-blue, Mossy Green, Browns... Pretty much anything you would find in the life of a wood elf.

Gold or Silver: Either. But I like tarnished, old, antique metals. If it's too bright -- Yuck.


Height: 5’10″, unfortunately... since I seem to be taller than 99% of guys I know. According to the all-trustworthy Wikipidia, the average height of males aged 20-29 in America is 5'10''. It's a lie. It's all a lie.


Instruments You Play(ed): Psaltry, Penny Whistle, Mountain Dulcimer.

Job Title: Unpaid, temporary full-time social work intern.


Kids: I'm simply a babysitter. I currently sit on Isaiah (2), Mark Andrew (2) and Siler (3).


Live: Murray, KY. Soon to be Duluth. Yes, I know, it's cold.... but trust me.... when the word "Duluth" is not only chosen for you by some random "findyourspot.com" website but is THEN sung in Veggie Tale songs... you know it's a sign from God.   *wink, wink*

Mom’s Name: Christine Mary, Marmie, Momsy, Mutha, Mimsy, Mom, Moo Moo. (totally kidding about the Mom part).

Nicknames: Scooter, Snoop dogg, Scoot, Van, Savvy, Vannah, Sav, and Flowing Grasslands. (Flowing Grasslands is a new one. Thanks Chad!)

Overnight Hospital Stays: Nope.

Pet Peeve: When people chew with your mouth open. Yes, it's understandable if I can hear you crunching on carrots, but I should not be able to hear pudding slopping around in your mouth.    
OH! And noise at night. That's annoying.

Quote From a Movie: (after being seasick) "Carrots!? Why is it always carrots?? I didn't even eat carrots!!" - Milo, Disney's Atlantis

Right or Left handed: Right. But a new years resolution since the time I was, eh... 10? was to right with both hands.


Siblings:  Mr. Eric Townley and my adopted sister, Ms. Jennifer Lofland. She's the runt of the family.


Time You Wake Up: 7:00. Prayer meeting starts at 7:14. Needless to say... sometimes I wear yesterdays makeup.

Underwear: I'm a strong believer.

Veggie You Dislike: Beets. Cooked carrots. Peas.


What Makes You Run Late: A Martha Stewart Magazine. Or Youtube videos.

X-Rays You Have Had: Fingers, Ankles (each one several times), Knees, Teeth, Dorsal Fin.
     I'm sorry folks. I am in a really sarcastic and stupid mood. Sigh.

Yummy Food You Make: Creamy chicken enchiladas. Panini's. Vegetable Tempura.

Zoo Animal You Like Best: Bats and sting rays... all though, I really don't like the zoo. I haven't gone since I was probably 12... but still. I'd rather see animals on Discovery Channel being tracked through the jungle, rather than through iron bars.

I love how that ended on a really serious note.

Goodbye.

They were all one in a million...

In a recent post on my Aunt's blog she wrote about all of her grandparents, sharing a word she associated with each of them. I thought this was a wonderful idea, so instead of posting a lengthy reply on her blog, I am writing my response here.

First of all, before I begin, it is important for you to know two things: 1) My chosen words will most likely be associated with my favorite memory of them.... 2) I have a lot of grandparents.

Grandpa Sooter: Bread. Every time that I have visited my grandpa, he immediately took me to the store to buy two things -- sweet sticky cereal, such as cookie crisps (which were not allowed at home) and bread to feed the seagulls with. If I went and spent a week with him, it was highly possible that we went every other day to go feed the seagulls. We would take our loaf of bread, drive down to the beach and spend the day running from the waves, building sandcastles, lecturing him about where to or not to throw his cigar butts, and throwing bits of junky bread to hungry, greedy, and overly obnoxious seagulls. I always tried to feed the little runt of a seagull, maybe the one that had an injured foot or seemed to be missing a feather, and he always made an effort to toss a piece of bread to the top-dog of the flock (which always was a very proud and beautiful bird). It was always my favorite day spent with him...

Grandma Dorothy: Beautiful. Now my grandma is possibly the fairest of them all, without a doubt, but what I am referring to is the perfume Beautiful, by Estee Lauder. Where I am working now, there is a woman that comes in every Monday and Friday (to take part in Wii bowling) who wears this same perfume. Every time I speak to her, I tear up and sigh with longing to hop on a plane to California to see my beautiful grandma. The reason I associate this to her is not just because its the perfume she has always worn, but because every time that I have gone to visit her I have returned with something doused in that smell. If I remember correctly, the last time I was with my grandma, I returned home with a gorgeously fluffy and ridiculously soft bathrobe... I still have it and I can still smell her perfume. It's this perfume that always starts the memories of total laughter, playing the game Trouble at the dining room table, and counting pennies. These are the best memories a girl could have. I could write a book with them.

Grandpa Carlos: Refrigerator. This is the funniest memory that I have of any of my grandparents.... I remember going up to Grandma Bertha in the late afternoon and asking for a snack or a  cookie from one of the six sitting around the kitchen. As a good grandma should, she always shooed me out of the kitchen all the while "tsk"ing and "hmph"ing saying that I was going to ruin my dinner if I ate something now.... So I would go out to Grandpa Carlos' shop. Sitting a little bit away from the house was the ultimate man cave, complete with radio, tools, wood, dirt, and a refrigerator. From what I can remember, Grandma never set foot in his shed. She didn't care about tools and typically left him to fix such and stuff and create this and that in his beloved tool shed. Anyways, I would go out to his shed, tell him that I was hungry... What do you think he did? He opened up his refrigerator and let me pick out a snack. You would be shocked and amazed (some even horrified) at the display of eats he had. He had everything from cupcakes and cookies to Popsicles, ice cream and fudge. He had pudding and jello, soda and juice, Gatorade and yogurt. Everything a hungry (and disobedient) child could desire. So I would hop over grab a soda pop and maybe a Popsicle, and head over to my chair next to him. I would eat my Popsicle, and sigh in satisfaction when it didn't matter that I dripped my grape Popsicle on the wood-shavings covered floor. It was a child's dream place, and I'd give anything to go back to that.

Grandma Bertha: Now this one is hard.... I think of Grandma Bertha and I think of love, warmth, letters, hugs, cooking, and so much more. I honestly don't think that I can pick just one word, so let's go with two. Spiders and Homework. It makes me shake my head and chuckle out loud as I sit here getting ready to tell you of my mischievous behavior as a kid at my grandma's house. We all know that I really enjoy a good practical joke... and, unfortunately for Grandma, it all started at her house. Every morning while she was making Mexican chorizo and eggs in a skillet I would sneak into her room and place a plastic spider under the messed up covers on her bed. And everyone morning, she would go in to make her bed, find the gummy fake spider, and start yelling. She would find me peering around the door frame, squealing with laughter, and start chiding me half in English and half in Spanish. She would point her finger at me, and say "Do you want your Grandma to die of a heart attack? Do you want that blood on your hands??" and proceed to tell me how badly I had scared her. Now.... I don't know if I really did scare her or not, but it certainly was rewarding to have her scream like that. Which is why I continued to put spiders in her bed every day I spent with her, until my parents and I moved from California to Tennessee.
The second word, homework, will be a short story. Basically, when I would bring all of my homework (remember, I was home schooled) to my Grandma's house on the days that my Mom would work, I would take my homework sheets and stuff them under furniture. Spelling worksheets, social studies.... they all went under the kitchen hutch or her bedroom dresser. They were never found until after we moved to Tennessee. How convenient for me!

Grandpa Harold: Unfortunately, I don't have very many memories of my Grandpa Harold... although I have been taught and told so many wonderful things about him from my mom. I know that he was sweet, kind, gentle and an absolutely wonderful father, husband and grandpa. If I had to pick a word(s) to describe him, or to associate to him it would have to be something along the lines of Easter Egg. I remember one Easter, me and all the other cousins lounging in the living room while the moms, aunts and grandma were in the kitchen. I remember that Grandpa pulled me over to him, sat me on his knee and whispered to me the location of the prize Easter egg. This specific Easter egg had a $10 bill in it... and I distinctly remember my cousin Benjamin being adamant that he would be the first to find the golden egg. Obviously he wasn't, and I was.

Grandma Connie: Generosity, to the extreme. Again, I don't have many memories of my mother's side of the family... so I don't have as many memories of her mother and father as I do my other grandparents. Grandma Connie died soon after we had moved from California, and I have a hard time recalling too many memories of her. But I do know that I loved her, loved spending time in her house filled with rabbit decorations, and loved going "out on the town" with her. I remember her being sweet and loving, always hugging me and kissing me on the forehead... and I remember her always giving her time, her things (which little girls love, especially old perfume bottles), and taking me shopping for a special treat. Trips out with Grandma were always sweet, and made me feel like a grown-up. We would always go to a very special little local cafe, and browse around some local boutiques. She was even the one to buy me my first and only barbie doll.... and the first to start loving a driveway lined with flowers.