Thoughts on Profanity

Just in case anyone's new to this blog (and because I really like saying it anyway): I'm studying Creative Writing at the University of Iowa.  We're talking top creative writing program in the nation if not world.  We're talking every time I said I wanted to major in Creative Writing, everyone said "Oh, so you're going to the University of Iowa?"  We're talking the best of the best as far as education and Creative Writing can journey together.

But now that I'm here, I've noticed something incredibly disappointing that totally breaks the heart of this wanna-be wordsmith.  All of these people who are supposed to be so great with their words are completely incapable of making any point without the use of profanity.

Seriously, if you're a master of the English language, why is your most commonly used word the f-bomb?

(Side-note: 99% of the f-bomb instances that I hear are not even physically possible.  Do these highly educated people even know what the word means?)

Another disappointment I've had here (though not quite as strong as the previous and may be recanted with further experience in the program) is that undergrad Creative Writing classes appear to consist of sitting in a circle talking about writing with fellow undergrads and TAs (Teaching Assistants... Grad students, as in don't even have their masters yet).  Discussions, not lectures.  The idea is that the learning is done through "exploring ideas with your peers" and silly higher-education rubbish like that.  I had a TA last semester who, when a grammar question came up, said "I'm actually terrible at grammar."  Then why in the world am I paying a grand to take this class?!  I can talk about what makes stories good or bad with any of my friends educated or not who read, for Pete's sake!  I came here so that this awesome program could give me the tools (grammar being at the top of my list) to better use my craft, not to sit around saying "How do you feel about that?"

Ahem.  Anyway, where was I?  Oh yes, learning by talking about ideas.  So anyway, with this method, it seems that the point isn't to teach so much as to develop and learn to express my own methods and beliefs about how I handle writing.

It is with the support of these two disappointments that I bring you today's blog: How I feel about profanity, particularly in writing.

I know, that was a long introduction.  Thanks for bearing with me!

To start with, I do not curse.  I have said the D-word twice in my life.  When I'm singing a song with a curse word in it, I change the word.  I have many reasons for this.  It is not effective communication.  I believe that there are far better ways to use the English language.  The more you hear cuss words, the more likely you are to repeat them (I said both of my D-words "on accident" around the time I broke up with my ex who had no problem with curse words), and so I don't want my speech to be having that effect on those around me.  And cursing is actually highly addictive.  I have been told by people who have both cursed and smoked that it was easier to stop smoking than it was to start cursing.

But then I arrive at the question: How do I handle profanity in writing?

My first answer is "Don't do it."  It's bad enough to hear profanity, I don't want to make my readers see it.  I don't want to contribute to that vocabulary being visually ingrained in their minds.  And not only my readers' minds, I don't want to entertain that vocabulary in my own head.  Besides, how many words are in the English language?  I say again: if you're a scholar of English, you have an almost infinite pool of words and phrases to make your point, why is the f-bomb your favorite word?  THAT YOU DON'T EVEN USE CORRECTLY?!

Ahem.  Sorry.

I wrote a story for another class last semester that took place in a prison in a fictitious world.  One of the biggest things my workshop knocked it for was its lack of profanity.  They argued that prisoners would use profanity, a lot of it, in their dialogue.  I disagree with that particular workshop, a) because it took place in a fictitious world, and b) because mine was the only story all semester long (in both writing classes actually) that did not contain profanity, so their "expertise" on the tasteful use of curse words loses a lot of credibility for me.

But it does present a conundrum: Is there such a thing as "tasteful use" of profanity?  Is it okay to write a character who curses in his or her dialogue?  If a bad word is used in the correct context to give it its proper meaning, is it okay to say it?  (For example, the f-bomb in this absolutely epic slam poem.)

I still tend to lean towards "no," mostly for the reason that I don't want that addictive vocabulary in my own mind, and I don't want to shove it in my readers' faces.  This stand does limit some dialogue when I'm writing a character who would curse, but I can say "He cursed," or I can write an innocent character's reaction to his vocabulary.  I can use syntax to create some of the shock value that I can't get by not cursing.  And besides, a lot of my work is either faith-based (no cussing necessary there) or fantasy (cussing would be inconsistent with the world anyway).  So this attitude toward profanity serves me pretty well.  And besides my own writing, this stand also allows me to look at profanity in someone else's work without automatically scribbling it out or dismissing the entire piece because it has bad words and therefore must be a bad story or poem.

The down side of my attitude toward profanity: It's going to take me 3-4 more years to finish my degree here, with all of these Creative Writers whose favorite thing to do is fling about the f-bomb inappropriately.  This plants me very firmly in a minority of what could very possibly be one person in the entire Creative Writing department of the University of Iowa.

It's going to be a long 3-4 years.

While we're becoming better, smarter people by exchanging ideas instead of giving this poor, deprived, quazai-student the lectures she so deeply craves, what do you think about profanity in writing?

That "23 Things" Post...

So there's this blog post making its way all over Facebook Land.  It falls under the "Angsty Twenty-Something Single" genre and argues against getting married young.  Among other things, it accuses young couples of cowardice concerning facing the world without hiding behind a significant other, and then suggests that it's a far better idea to go "experience" the world, "explore religions," and not only date casually but also explore all the bases, if you know what I mean.

I'm a pro at this Angsty Twenty-Something Single stuff.  I know, I know, you're absolutely shocked, right?  So I clicked on the link that I assumed would give me either 23 distractions to help me deal with being single or 23 things to make a really adventurous bucket list (since mine consists largely of "get married and have kids" and I'm still waiting on that crucial first step of having a boyfriend in order to arrive at that end, my bucket list could use a bit of inspiration these days).

Instead, I get things like number 3: "Make out with a stranger."  Number 8: "Explore a new religion."  Number 11: "Date two people at once and see how long it takes to blow up in your face."  15: "Disappoint your parents."  20: "Hang out naked in front of a window."  22: "Be selfish."

Maybe I should've known that this wouldn't be my cup of tea when item number 10 was "cut your hair."

Basically, my fellow Angsty Twenty-Something Single is disillusioned towards marriage.  She makes this statement: "... the LGBTQ community isn't ruining the sanctity of marriage, the Kardashian family is," and I can't say I disagree with that sentiment.  At the risk of giving my fellow conservatives a heart attack: the Religious Right's argument that legalizing homosexual marriage defaces the value of marriage in a country where straight marriages only have a fifty-fifty shot smells rather hypocritical to me.  Number 7 on this blogger's list is: "Get a tattoo.  It's more permanent than marriage."  You can't deny it, that's a pretty valid point.

But her suggested alternative to marriage for us young people is to go ahead and recklessly explore all there is to be explored about life rather than letting the morals of an obsolete generation keep us from experiencing the world.

As I continue to practice dealing with my desire for a husband and a family of my own that just doesn't seem to be in God's outline for this chapter of my life, I don't think this alternative is what my Heavenly Father has in mind for me.

Among the handful of truths sprinkled into her post, this blogger mentions that twenty-three-year-olds don't know who they are yet, and need to explore who they are before they commit to marriage, and for some of us I think that's a good point.  But I'm not going to "find who I am" chasing cheap, short-term romances just for kicks and giggles.  I'm not going to "find who I am" by giving the universe the middle finger and doing whatever I feel like doing (or doing what I don't really feel like doing but the world thinks I should be doing... like making out with strangers and stuff).  I'm not going to "find who I am" hanging out naked in front of an open window, I'm just going to scar the residents in the next building for life.  And seriously, what in the world is the value of dating two people at once just to see how long it takes to blow up in your face?  I can't think of a single purpose that would serve!

I'm not going to find who I am by turning my back on God, the one thing that has been true and constant for all of my life.

I'll turn 23 in a few weeks, and I can bet that I'll still be single.  I can dream to the contrary, but reality dictates that I will still be single.  But rather than take the values and convictions that I've had my entire life and dump them out with the garbage, I'm going to chase the other half of the dream God's given me for my life: my writing.  I'm going to work on my patience chasing after this degree, and I WILL get my Bachelor's before my little brother does (if he vanishes his junior year of college, he may be tied up in my closet pending my graduation).

I'm going to explore who I am in the eyes of my Creator, who created me to bear His image.  Why in the world would I want to recklessly try to reinvent what He has redeemed and declared beautiful?

I may not like being single, and honestly I'm not totally convinced yet that I ever will like being single, but I will spend this chapter of my life continuing to love God in my own, imperfect ways, and drinking in His perfect love for me.

Everyone's path is different.  Some people do get engaged before they're 23, and that's perfectly fine.  (And yet it's the Christians who are always cast as the judgmental ones... I guess no one ever told that to this fellow Angsty Twenty-Something Single friend of mine.)  I'm working on my own list of 23 things to do while I'm single, ranging from getting published to loving on my daycare kiddos.  If you're a fellow Angsty Twenty-Something Single, try coming up with 23 things you can do while your single that glorify the Author and Protector of your faith.  Trust Him with this season of your life.  He can make it into something infinitely more beautiful than anything you can make on your own.

Hello, 2014, Let's Be Friends!

Taken in Chicago in March of 2013... Aside from a shot of me sleeping and another of me playing flute with a really sloppy pony-tail wearing my hat backwards, this was the earliest 2013 pic I could find of myself :P

Taken December 30th in Nebraska... While burning materials pertaining to my Women in Islam class :D

~  * ~

Reflection is probably the biggest thing about New Years that makes it my favorite holiday.  It's a chance to stop, look back over the year, celebrate the good moments and move away from the bad ones, take stock of what I've learned and how I've grown.

A year ago from this moment, I was sitting in a drafty, cock-eyed living room a few blocks over with my family, reflecting on 2012.  Now, I'm hanging out in my bedroom--my level bedroom, with right angles and reliable heat--reflecting on 2013.

I'm not going to lie, it's been a long one.  I took a pretty awesome poetry class the first half of 2013.  I went to Chicago for the first time, and hopefully not the last.  As it turns out, I have a tiny hint of wanderlust after all.

Just a tiny one.

I moved over the summer, and it's amazing what a difference those few blocks made!  There's something to be said about living without bats and cockroaches!  I've been blessed with a new friend in my roommate, and even our cats get along!  (As I type this, my roommate's cat is hanging out in my doorway and Gracie is planning an ambush from the bathroom.)

2013 also held what has become known as The Semester from the Underworld.  After a brilliant plan to take a class over the summer went horribly wrong and I blatantly refused to drop a class against my better judgement, I spent a semester working full time, taking 9 credit hours, and not sleeping.  I will never do that again, but it did teach me a lot.  Probably one of the most important things it taught me was that Philippians 4:13 does not really mean "I can do whatever I want to because I'm a Christian and that makes me super-human with no limits."  Actually, that passage of scripture is Paul talking about being content with his circumstances, wherever God placed him.  Philippians 4:13 doesn't mean I can work full-time and take a full-class load and still be operating at peak efficiency and be a wonderful human being all at the same time because God's on my side.  (Actually, it turns out that running on coffee until it makes you throw up kind of makes you a worthless human being in some ways.)  Philippians 4:13 means I can be content living here in Iowa City doing what God's called me to do, no matter how long this degree takes.

Copy and paste that last sentence and hang on to it for me, I'm probably going to need it more than once in 2014.

In 2013, the second Hobbit movie came out.  I will bear the scar of its betrayal for the rest of my life, but it was awesome seeing it in theaters with friends!  Speaking of which, yes, I have friends!  Granted, one of them is moving away in a couple of weeks since this is a college town and that's what people around here do, and maintaining my social life still requires significantly more effort than it did in High School, but I have friends who stayed beside me and prayed for me and cared for me in 2013, friends who were Jesus with skin on to me in my darkest and most stubborn moments, friends who were still there when the wreckage that was left of me slid across that finish line after the Semester from the Underworld.  I love my friends!

I became an aunt in 2013!  If you count my Rent-A-Nephew back home, I became an aunt twice in 2013!  Aren't they cute?!

Another year has gone by and my novel is still incomplete, but I did write three short stories in 2013.  I took two writing classes at the University of Iowa.  They were entry level classes, so nothing really fancy shmancy, and the only things I "learned" were the ideas that I contemplated and formed for myself about how I personally handle writing, but I did have some valuable experiences in class (one of the three workshops all semester was valuable at least).  Progress is progress, and I'm one year closer to being a published author!  (Not that I know when that is or anything, I just know I'm closer is all!)

Also very important to my writing career: On November 5, 2013, I MET TED DEKKER!!!

Not only did I get a hug and an autographed copy of Outlaw, but I also touched his chest!  AND he told me I was beautiful!  *squeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!*

Ahem.  Anyway...

I have three friends who are now engaged, and beyond my inauguration into aunt-hood I have two more friends who are pregnant, and this of course isn't counting all of those acquaintances and old friends and friends of friends and such whose life events somehow show up on my Facebook news feed all the time.  2013 has come and gone, leaving nothing of the sort for me, not even any interests.

Well, except for this guy:

But he cheated on me with an elf that Tolkien didn't even write and therefore doesn't exist, so I'm just back to wishing this guy wasn't already taken:

So I'll keep working on figuring out some positive points of being single.  I can't really think of very many right now, but I'm pretty sure they're out there.  Besides, the one that I do usually remember is a powerful one: this is what God wants for me right now.  So I'll keep truckin'.  I'll keep learning how to draw closer and closer to my First Love, my true Knight in Shining Armour, my Prince of Peace who's so much more than charming.  I'll keep letting Him teach me who I am, and keep learning how to be content where He's placed me, and how to enjoy being the me that He created.  All that sounds a whole lot fluffier than it feels, but that's the lesson that 2013 has taught me, and it's what I will carry with me into 2014.

A year ago, I wrote that 2013 was looking a lot like 2012: more work, more school, more time in Iowa City.  And sitting where I am now, 2014 looks painfully similar to 2013: more work, more school, more time in Iowa City.  While I was picking out classes for this upcoming semester, I calculated out how long this was going to take me at the current rate.  Depending upon whether or not I find a way to pull off studying abroad for six weeks at some point, I will be here, doing this, for 3-4 more years.  But there was a song I once loved by Avalon that went something to the effect of: "I don't wanna go somewhere / If I know that You're not there ... 'Cuz my heart needs to be where You are."

I could make a whole bunch of resolutions to try to make it feel like I'm gonna be a better person and come a long way in 2014.  I could say I'm going to study the Bible more, I'm going to read more, I'm going to write more, I could even set quantifiable goals because who doesn't like concrete thresholds with which to rub your own failure in your face with?  But I don't think I'm going to.  Instead, 2014: God's put us together, and I know He has plans for both of us that are better than any of my own ideas.  What do you say we just be friends?

Just Keep Swimming

I must begin this blog post with this image, because a) it's fitting, and b) Dory is awesome!

Now, back to the blog post!

I recently (okay, it's been a little over a month ago) went on a camping trip with my family and church family back home.  We were swimming in the lake and there was this buoy waaaaaay out in the lake.  I have no idea how far it was, but it was pretty far!  Not to mention I'm totally not a very good swimmer anyway.  I mean, I can tread water 'til the cows come home, but stuff like special strokes and swimming fast and that kind of thing?  Beyond me!

My little brother spent some time on a swim team, and he decided that he was going to see if he could swim all the way out to the buoy and back.  When he started this endeavor, he passed my mom and I.  She kind of did this little half-hearted following thing, torn between letting him explore his abilities and not wanting him to go that far and drown because he was too tired to swim back, and I stayed with her because, hey, I wanted to hang out with my mommy!  Well, at some undisclosed point in time, we ended up following him.  All the way to the buoy.

On the way back, both of them had to stop once or twice and just float for a minute, but I just kept going--not because I was trying to beat them or anything, but because I was afraid of not making progress.  Being that far away from where your feet can touch the ground, especially as an inexperienced swimmer, is kinda risky, so I wanted to keep moving and get back as soon as I could.

But when I made it back, I was almost sad it was over!  I had proven to myself that I could do something I doubted my abilities in, and that intense swim was actually strangely mentally relaxing.  Besides, getting out of the water was stinkin' cold!  So when my sister-in-law and a church friend decided they wanted to try, I decided to go with them too!  So ultimately, I made this crazy swim that I wasn't positive I was capable of twice!

When I got back and after I'd gotten out and relaxed a little, I was seriously considering doing it a third time, but my Dad and the other friend talked me out of it.  When it was time to climb on the motorcycle later, I was glad they did!  But even though I was pretty sore and really tired, I honestly think I could have made it a third time if I had to, because there was a point in that swim where you understand that if you give up, if you decide you're just too tired and stop swimming, you drown and you die.  Sure, you can float for a while if you need to, but roll with me for a second:

That swim is a lot like how this semester is going over.

This week is a pretty good week (as demonstrated by the fact that I can stop long enough to write this blog post), but there are two or three nights most weeks where sleep doesn't really happen in excess of three hours.  I'm always doing homework (ALWAYS!), every moment of my life is ear-marked for something.  When I was in high school, a friend and I used to laugh at how crazy our lives were during finals week because we had our lives planned out down to what we were going to study every hour of every day, but it's not so funny now that that's seriously how my life works all the time at the moment!  I got off work 45 minutes early the other day by surprise, and I almost didn't know what to do with myself!  I could have found somewhere to get some extra studying done, but instead I decided to go ahead and stop my my apartment (in the middle of the day?!?!?!) and actually be a girl and do stuff like doing my hair and *gasp* putting on make-up!  Craziness!

But it's do or die, and without having done this semester, I would never know whether or not I can do this.

And there's that crazy part of my mind that's saying, "Let's do it again next semester!"

I'll probably be able to talk myself out of this one.  This is the first time since moving that I've actually looked forward to a break in the school year!  But at the same time, this degree is taking me a very long time, and dropping back down to one class in the bigger picture almost reminds me of stopping to float in the lake.

I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it though.  Right now, I have homework to do!

Just keep swimming!

The Semester from the Underworld

I have a confession to make: I am petrified of this semester!

I "took" a course over the summer.  The theory was that it would give me something to do to make the dark abyss of summer break a little easier to deal with, since I really struggle during breaks.  In doing so, the thought was that I could knock out the one Gen Ed requirement that my Metro degree lacked.  A win-win situation, right?

The only option I had to meet both of these goals was an online class (strike 1) entitled "Women in Islam in the Middle East" (strike 2), consisting of a slew of reading that, whenever I eventually motivated myself to do it, made me ridiculously angry at the injustice towards Islamic women and I'm not even a feminist! (Strike 3.  I'm out.)  The course was so packed and intensive that it came with the option of taking a grade of incomplete and using another semester to finish it.  After my laptop finally died from an injury sustained in my October car crash and I was without computer access for a week and lost all hope of ever catching up to make the summer deadline, I went ahead and gave up and took the alternative route.

This was after I made the decision to go ahead and see if I could handle 2 classes at the same time while working full time.

Meaning I suddenly find myself juggling three classes while working full time.

With this week having been the first week of class, I have already started off on the wrong foot.  There was some hard-core crazy drama that went down this week that is now resolved, but was incredibly stressful, and me being "assertive" really feels more like being a jerk.  Then there was meeting half a jazillion new people which happens at the beginning of any new school year.  I had to talk in front of both of my new classes.  I'm still dealing with the bank to replace my debit card from when my wallet was stolen two weeks ago.  I got a call from Biolife saying that my protein test came back low and I have to go in to be retested and can't donate for at least two weeks.  There are some changes going down at my campus ministry that are great and wonderful and awesome changes, but are also kind of scary for this introvert whose comfort zone has already been obliterated in every other aspect of her life this week.

And then I have come to the conclusion that undergraduate creative writing students apparently don't actually write, they talk about writing.  Seriously, I've been waiting to take writing classes so I can write and get feedback on my writing and let my writing speak for me and all that jazz.  I've been waiting to experience workshops for literally years!  Now that I'm finally here though, both of my professors are being super gentle about it.  "I know it can be really scary, but I promise this will be a safe and respectful place to share your work.  You won't be graded on the quality of your writing, so long as you put forth good effort."  So I'm in college for creative writing, and my writing won't be taken any more seriously than it did in high school.  Sweet.  Then it turns out, I'm only going to be workshopped a total of three times this semester...

But will be up to my ears in class discussions.

This is not what I had in mind.

It's Labor Day weekend now, and I am currently taking 24 hours to stay home and recover from the beating my poor, introverted self has taken the last two weeks.  This also includes organizing my life and trying to remember how to juggle more than one class at a time... I haven't done that in two years!  When these 24 hours are up and my life is organized, I will go to the grocery store... And then probably return for some more recovery time.  Basically, I am going to have a lot of respect for my poor, battered comfort zone for a couple of days.

Because on Tuesday, I'll go back to work, I'll have class again on Wednesday, and my comfort zone will once again mean absolutely nothing.  Which, you know, I suppose doesn't have to be a bad thing.  You don't learn and grow as a person in your comfort zone.  God doesn't show up in as huge and amazing ways within the confines of your comfort zone.  You can break free of false limits and find your real ones when you leave your comfort zone.  It's just that my comfort zone is... You know, comfy!

I know I have lots of prayer warriors who read this blog, and I really don't thank you guys enough for how much you pray for me!  I don't directly ask for prayer very often, in part because I know you guys always have me covered anyway :)  But this semester, please pray for some rockin' time management skills, that I can juggle everything this semester.  Pray for courage as I face all of these challenges that lie outside of the parameters of my typical personality.  My original goal for this semester was to get better at connecting with people and making friendships that can bring other people closer to God, and while at the moment that's the last thing I really want to focus on, I know that it's still something God can teach me to do even in the midst of a chaotic semester.  And please pray that God shows up in huge and amazing ways this semester, that all of this craziness glorifies Him and brings me closer to Him.  The Lord is my refuge and my strength, an ever present help in trouble.  Even if I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, I will fear no evil.  I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.

Welcome to the Semester from the Underworld.

Introducing Kaycee's Library!

In light of finally organizing all of my books after my recent move, I have finally decided to share my reading interests with the world wide web!  Let me take this opportunity to show you some images of this inspiration:

Poetry :)

Tolkien :D

I don't have a thing for Ted Dekker and Frank Peretti at all! :D

BOOKS!!! XD  *crazy, maniacal laughter!*

Good writers are also readers, it's as simple as that.  Not to mention that books are just about the safest and most beneficial addiction ever, right?  Hence: My library.  Some day, it will actually be a library instead of books crammed wherever they'll fit on bowing shelves.  Hopefully, like the great aunt's library from the movie Inkheart, complete with the cozy window seat.  That's my dream anyway.

And besides, everyone is always asking me what I like to read, and while the line "I could no sooner choose a favorite star in the heavens" from the movie Ever After is an appropriate response, it would be cool to have a central place with all of my favorite reading delights :)

Thus, my electronic library has been born!

The fiction section is listed in alphabetical order by the author's last name.  I'm a fan of the old saying, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all," so you'll only find good books on this list!  I do have books in my physical library that I have simply to expose myself to different kinds of writers, and there are some of these authors that, chances are, you'll never see in my online library that actually are in my physical library *coughcough Danielle Steele cough Stephanie Myers coughcough* ahem.

I do however need to take a moment to shock the world: Not all works of fiction are G rated.  If that isn't the shocking part, this is: I read some such books!  Thus, I shall utilize the Little Brother Test.  My little brother is 16 with a passion to remain pure in the midst of a public high school, much like me when I was 16, and sometimes that requires carefully choosing not to plant some things in the imagination.  Therefore, if I wouldn't want my little brother reading it, I'll add a little heads up to it in the library.

Of course, this is a huge undertaking, so please understand that this library is still under construction.  I'll try to periodically post reminders to check it out!  I'm also hoping to add a poetry section and a movie section later on!  Then when it's all caught up, I can post reviews of various books, poets, and movies with links to my library.  So you know there will be more fun and exciting things to find there!

Thanks for tagging along on this little adventure of mine!  I hope you enjoy!

~  *  ~

Did I put enough links in this blog post?  Did you catch my subtle hints?  You should go check out my library!  Click here!!!

"It's so... Level!"

So it's been a couple of weeks now, but I wanted to report to the Internet community that I am no longer living in what we have so fondly come to know less as "The Coralville Cottage" and more as "The Dump!"  Not gonna lie, I really did love the place for most of the two years I lived there.  Let's take a trip down memory lane, shall we?

My bedroom on my first night in Iowa

The other side of my room that first night

Pre-moving in kitchen

Still not totally sure what was holding the place together!

Don't you love the concept of straight lines?!

One of my bat friends!  This was the first one... not the one that tried to assassinate me!  It should also be noted that, while packing up to leave the apartment, I found a dead bat in the mud room.  So happy to be living in a bat-free environment!!!

And an adorable picture of Gracie, for good measure!

This was the last straw!  I was cooking chicken, and I went to go check on it to suddenly find the handle only half attached to the oven.  This image was the moment where the Coralville Cottage lost its charm!

This guy is my "little" brother, and he was my hero!  I went home a week before the move, and he came back to Coralville with me to help me pack up before moving day!  I don't know what I would've done without him!

The plan was to pack both my library and my bags in one fell swoop... however I underestimated the volume of my library.  It worked for half of it!

Here's the other half!

One last picture of the outside of the place... Again, notice the awesome lines!

It echoed like crazy in there when it was empty!

The move was only a few blocks, but I'm living in an actual apartment complex now rather than the triplex type situation, and that part has its ups and downs.  The parking lot is nice as opposed to the gravel alley-way between two buildings (or rather, the parking lot will be nice as soon as the contractors quit tearing up the concrete and changing where we can park!).  They also spray for bugs once a month!  After two years of living with cockroaches, I'm pretty stoked about that part!  The noise is a down-side, Gracie and I keep hearing our neighbors which is a new phenomenon for us, and we also live between the railroad tracks and the police and fire stations.  There are also contractors on the roof outside our window yelling at each other in Spanish.

We also live on the third floor.  I'm not going to lie, living without stairs for two years probably spoiled me a bit!  However, I also live next door to a *drum roll, please* Laundry Facility!  Seriously, we are right next door to the laundry room!  Granted, it costs quarters, but no more scrambling to hand-wash work shirts on the weekends!

In addition to the laundry room, we also have a dishwasher!  Not to mention flat floors and right angles!  The new bathtub is smaller than my old one, but it's actually sealed into the wall, everything is level, and I can take a bubble bath without an audience of ants!

Gracie and I have also been enjoying the companionship of our new roommates!  My new roomie is super sweet, and I love just hanging out and chatting with her!  We have already eaten together a couple of times and enjoyed a chick-flick with another girl friend of ours, and I'm looking forward to at least two years with her!  The more we get to know each other, the more convinced I am that this was a match made in Heaven!

Gracie's adjustment has been slightly less seamless.  She also has to get used to a new roomie--a gray and white one with stunning green eyes named Kitty.  Both Gracie and Kitty have been only-cats for a while, so they're still working out what to think of each other.  My roomie and I joke that they are probably besties while we're gone during the day, even though there is a little hissing involved when we're home.  But Kitty has been rubbing off on Gracie a bit, Gracie now plays with toys (which she refused to do before, in favor of pony-tail holders and plastic bags tied in knots), and she's slowly starting to warm up to the idea of kitty treats (the ones that my roomie refers to as "glorified cat food").  She loves exploring, especially late at night of course.  I woke up this morning to find my roomie's Wii controller in the middle of my bedroom floor.  There have also been some surprises with Gracie's transition, ranging from the very first hiss I've ever heard out of her to her new discovery of drinking out of the toilet.  She's a crazy kitty, but that's why I love her!  And I think over all, both of us are much happier in our new home!

I'm still in the process of unpacking, so we've still got some boxes going on all over the place.  I would show you pictures, but most of them are up-and-down, and alas, I don't know how to make Blogger rotate them :(  But rest assured, it's a pretty awesome place!  God has provided yet again, and I'm ready to tackle this new chapter of my adventures here in Iowa City!