update II

This morning at 3:30 I received a text from Lizzy saying that Isaac was hemorrhaging. Then at 6:30 I received another text saying that he was out of surgery. They took more of his color and his spleen. Isaac is back in the ICU. He is stable but on life support. After talking with Lizzy yesterday I am even more convinced that, while there are physical issues going on, this is a spiritual battle and it is God's battle to fight.

Please continue to lift the family up in your prayers.
Please continue to pray for God's victory over the evil one.
Please pray that God's peace that surpasses all understanding would fill the body and spirit of Isaac, as well as his family.

Thank you for all of your prayers.

from the front porch

I stand outside on the front porch and watch the snow mixed with rain fall sideways to the ground. The frigid wind whips through the trees and through my sweater and thin cotton pants. I tuck my fists into my armpits attempting to warm my fingers, as I gaze over the rooftops and grin and marvel at just how beautiful this scene is.

The temperature is below 40, there is snow and rain, it is windy, and I could not be happier with the weather.

update

Please continue to pray for Isaac Canales, Lizzy's father-in-law. He had emergency surgery to try and stabilize his kidneys [which have been failing] and his blood pressure [which has been dropping]. He is an incredible man of God who loves his family and his Father so much. Everyone, myself included, who knows him has an overwhelming sense that this is not his time to go. It feels very much like a spiritual battle that is manifesting itself in physical form. I know that can sound "woo-woo", please know I don't take the concept of spiritual warfare lightly.

Pray for physical and spiritual healing in Isaac Canales.
Pray that his body would start functioning like it is supposed to.
Pray that his blood pressure would stabilize.
Pray that his kidneys start to function, cleaning out the toxins that have built up inside of him.
Pray for his tired body that is working so hard.
Pray for his family who are emotionally as well as physically exhausted.
Pray that hope and peace would replace fear and doubt.
Pray that Isaac would feel only peace and hope.
Pray that Isaac would be able to rest.
Pray for Isaac's wife Ritha who is tired and does not want to lose her husband.
Pray for miracles that come only from God.
Please pray.

pray

The following is from a blog my cousin Lizzy posted this morning. Her father-in-law has been in the hospital with diverticulitis and kidney issues. Please pray for him and his family.
_________________
The bible says pray without ceasing.

Pray for Isaac who is in the hospital and not doing well.
Pray for his kidneys to improve.
Pray for the infection to subside.
Pray for all of my friends that are pregnant.
Pray for a job.
Pray for the future.
Pray for my cheerleaders who need so much more than a coach.
Pray for my mother in law who works without ceasing.
Pray for Dave's family who is afraid.
Pray for Miracles.
Pray for Judah James to keep gaining weight and get stronger.

1 Corinthians 13:12 (New Living Translation)
12 Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.
Praise for my home.
Praise for my husband.
Praise for opportunity.
Praise for a good pathology report for my dad.
Praise for new life in our family.
Praise for healthy babies and healthy moms.
Praise for the season.
Praise for the child that took the weight of the world on his shoulders and made everything somehow eventually ok.

relief

Slight GRE mishap MANAGED!

Here's the gist of what happened, after taking the GREs you enter the different school codes for the institutions to which you'd like ETS to send your scores. I [thought I] entered Portland State and the University of Oregon. Apparently [though I am NOT thoroughly convinced of this] I entered Portland State University and Oregon State University [yes, there is a difference]. I didn't realize this mistake until early Monday morning when I was making copies of my GRE scores to include with my applications. I said a few choice words [not pretty ones like "love" or "kittens" or "rainbows"] and then continued assembling my application packets.

Tuesday morning, at 6:05AM according to my cell phone, I called ETS intending to have a new set of official GRE scores sent to U of O as quickly as possible, and I was prepared to pay whatever I needed to. Because if my scores don't arrive at U of O by December 15, then they don't look at my application. They just throw it away--well, probably recycle it since it's Eugene.

My phone conversation with the very delightful [I know sarcasm is hard to read, but very delightful is DRIPPING with it] agent from ETS was frustrating, unhelpful and tear-inducing. I was told that ALL test scores, no matter what, take five to ten business days to arrive at the schools. Well, except of course for electronic GRE scores, but U of O doesn't accept those. [Oh gee, thanks for getting my hopes up.] So after my conversation with the terse agent, tears and a, "No thankyouverymuch I would NOT like to take a customer service survey!" I ordered a second set of scores and tried to calm down.

I called U of O [at 6:10AM] and asked the person from their psychology department who handles applications to please call me back as soon as possible. By noon she hadn't called back, so I called again. And again at 1:30PM. And again at 3:45PM. Then I emailed her.

And at around 4:00PM I got a wonderful email saying that because I included a photocopy of my results in my application they would be more than happy to accept my GRE scores after December 15, and would be glad to review my application to their program.

BIG, HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF.

I actually received the email just after I received two text messages from Lizzy:
"Oh Lord you know me. You formed me in the secret place. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely. You know my going out and my coming in."
"You know the plans I have for you..."

So, I might still get to be a Duck after all.

lists [part deux]

TO DO:
Mail envelopes
Fix minor GRE score mishap

DONE:
Final versions of personal statements
Final versions of cover letters
Printed cover letters
Printed personal statements
Printed resumes
Application form for PSU
Application form for U of O
Stuffed, addressed, sealed, and ready to be mailed application packets

NUMBER OF TIMES I REPRINTED MY:
PSU cover letter [2]
My O of O cover letter [1]
PSU personal statement [2]
Resume [1]
Second page of PSU application [1]

THANKFUL FOR:
Heather's fantastic editing skills and answers to all questions grad school and application related, and our three hour v.c.o.c. on Saturday
Lizzy's amazing editing skills and the steady stream of texts that get me through my banal work days, and for WOD.FAM.CHOC.SOD
Erica's constant encouragement and inspiration
The encouragement of friends and family who remind me that I am smart even when I can't form coherent sentences
Stephenie Meyer for the mental, intellectual, and emotional escape

lists

TO DO:
Make final edits on personal statements
Complete cover letters
Fill out applications
Stuff envelopes
Seal envelopes
Mail envelopes

I AM:
Unmotivated
Hungry
Cold
Thirsty
Housesitting
Glad I bought this green sweatshirt



I WANT:
A soynog latte
Hot chocolate
Warm hands
Finished grad school applications

THIS POST WAS INSPIRED BY:
Sarah Swanson-Dexel [I always love her lists]
Cold hands
The prospect of completion

mush

My brain is mush.

nerves

Nervous.

Nervous.

Nervous.

Three things left to do:
1. Finish my personal statement.
2. Write a cover letter for each application.
3. Fill out the basic application for each school.

It seems so basic, and yet I'm scared shitless. I worry about writers block. I worry that I should have gone to get lunch before finding the perfect spot in a coffee shop that is the perfect blend of noise, people watching, and espresso. I worry about being worried. I worry that, even with verses reminding me NOT to worry tattooed on my body, I won't be able to stop.

Perhaps all I need is a deep breath of fresh air, my headphones, and the peace that comes with reminding myself to, "be at rest once more, O my soul, for the LORD has been good to you."

this is a story about a girl named lucky*

I don't know how I got so lucky. I don't know how I ended up with so many amazing friends. Sometimes I feel like I'm being greedy, like I've taken all the legos so I can build the most amazing house and now none of the other kids have enough to build even a simple lego car.

I am, of course, too selfish to actually give any of them up. And can't imagine my life without a single one of them. And just when I think I've reached my quota, that I've maxed out my friend limit, another person finds their way into my heart over nothing more than a simple cup of coffee or a conversation about swim team and philosophy.

I really don't know how I got so lucky, but I do know that I am forever thankful for each of these amazing people. My life would not be the same without you. I would not be who I am without each and every one of you.

*Oh Britney...

beauty on the bridge

One of the things I love about Portland it its bridges. I love coming around the curve on I-5, just after I-405 splits off and takes you over the Fremont Bridge, and you can see all the bridges lined up, ready to take you from the east side of the Willamette to the west.

This morning on the bus, even before seeing the Fremont, Broadway, Steel, Burnside, Morrison, Hawthorne, Marquam, and Ross Island Bridges lined up like a welcoming committee, ready to wish me a lovely day in Portland, I happened to look up as we crossed the Columbia River via the Interstate Bridge from Washington to Oregon. Through the green I-beams I could see the silhouette of Mt. Hood back lit by this morning's sunrise. It left me speechless, not that I'm one to chat up folks on the bus, but you get the idea. I wanted to stop the bus. I wanted to ask every rider to put away their books, morning sudoku, daily crossword or paper and just LOOK. I wanted to remind them to take a deep breath and forget about what was ahead and simply enjoy the subtle changes in the pinks and oranges, to appreciate the contrast between the dark navy of the mountain and the clouds and the rich golds, pinks and blues.

As the bus rounded that favorite corner of my and proceeded along the east side of the Willamette to the Marquam Bridge I found myself searching for one last glimpse of the mountain, one last reminder that today was about more than my to-do list. But the sky was dark, and the clouds that had framed the mountain now shielded it, making me all the more grateful for the short time I was allowed to enjoy something so jaw-droppingly, mouth-shuttingly, totally-forget-your-morning-routiningly beautiful.

personal statement

I sit, winter sunlight streaming through the windows, at Ground, the closest place with wi-fi to Glenwood, Washington. I am here to write my personal statement. I arrived with the goal of a first draft, no more than 500 words, that sums up:
Me
My areas of research interest
The faculty with whom I am interested in working

I have all the necessary tools for a successful day of writing:
Headphones [currently playing my most recent purchase from iTunes]
A cup of coffee [with free refills]
Glasses [for tired eyes that squint in concentration]



Here goes nothing....

ome*

No intentional plot spoilers, especially if you've read the book. That said, read at your own risk.



Yes, of course the book was better than the movie.

That said, THE MOVIE WAS WONDERFUL! Everyone was standing outside in the freezing Northwest night air with books in hand. Some were wrapped up in blankets, others, like myself, appeared to have been so excited about getting to the theatre that they forgot their coats and gloves. [Oops.] Once they let us inside, at 9:45, I began to thaw as I passed the time by rereading New Moon, chatting occasionally with my neighbors about our opinions on who was best for Bella [EDWARD, duh], our favorite book from the saga, and, of course, the casting choices. I was able to get to my favorite chapter in New Moon [20: Volterra] just as the lights dimmed and the screen readjusted to the appropriate size for something other than multitudinous versions of the same message, "You're at a movie, don't use your phone!"

Let me break, briefly, from the Twilight love and say that the new trailer for Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince was delightful, but I still begrudge the decision to wait on the release of the movie simply for profit's sake.

And then...the production company's logo fills the screen, fades and the voice-over begins.... I thought Catherine Hardwicke did a wonderful job capturing the awkward way in which Bella and Edward's relationship evolves. While I think Edward and Bella, and the rest of the characters for that matter, look different for each person as they find themselves engrossed in the pages of Stephanie Meyer's novels, the casting was believable and...good. I was pleasantly surprised. I think my biggest disappointment in the casting department was the Cullen's house. It is described as, “painted a soft, faded white, three stories tall, rectangular and well proportioned,” with a, “deep porch that wrap[s] around the first story.” Bella guesses it is a hundred years old and characterizes it as, “timeless, graceful.” The house they chose was beautiful, but almost the antithesis of Bella's description in everything but the openness and exceptional number of windows.

It was a wonderful way to spend an evening turned very early morning. I loved the scenic shout-outs to places that I see on a semi-frequent basis [Haystack Rock, Multnomah Falls and the Columbia River Gorge to name a few]. I loved that the sweetly chaste relationship between Edward and Bella [mostly] survived Hollywood. I loved it, all of it, including the tired eyes that greeted me in the mirror this morning.



*Oh My Edward

obsessed

Okay. I admit it. I'm a little obsessed with The Twilight Saga. I know, I know, me and every other 14 year old, and of course all the Twilight Moms. I've read the books. I'm working my way through the saga for a second time having finally gotten the first book back from my Sister. You also may have noticed that I have a little counter on my blog. Yes, I do realize that it's set to EST. Whatever. I don't even care. I can add three hours even in the midst of my excitement.

And I'm going to the midnight showing tonight.

seagulls

Whenever it's stormy on the Oregon coast you can tell because the seagulls decide to make their home further inland. I used to get annoyed because they'd fly everywhere, dig through the trash cans and I was always worried they'd poop on my head [because my sister Clare had seagulls poop on her twice in one day years ago]. Now the sound of seagulls elicits a different response. I hear their squawking and it tugs at my heart just a little. I am reminded of walks down the the village with BFF, cups of coffee from Toot's warming our wind chilled hands. I think of early morning runs with Mat Karney in my ears and the sunrise along East Cliff to encourage me and keep me company. I'm not so worried that they'll poop on my head any more either, but I think that has to do more with familiarity and less to do with statistical probability.

come down to the water

Over a year ago a friend introduced me, through brief and thought provoking quotes posted on MySpace pages and as signature lines at the ends of emails, to the beautiful words of Annie Dillard. I will confess that I have yet to read an entire book or essay of hers. Regardless of that fact I still manage to catch snippets of her insightful observations of the world around us. This morning I picked up Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, a Father's Day gift I gave my dad this year. The corner of page 10 was bent, and I turned to see what Annie had to say. Half way through page 11 I stumbled upon something that resonated with me and with the drive I made to and from White Salmon yesterday.

"At the time of Lewis and Clark, setting the prairies on fire was a well-know signal that meant, 'Come down to the water.' It was an extravagant gesture, but we can't do less. If the landscape reveals one certainty, it is that the extravagant gesture is the very stuff of creation. After the one extravagant gesture of creation in the first place, the universe has continued to deal exclusively in extravagances, flinging intricacies and colossi down aeons of emptiness, heaping profusions on profligacies with ever-fresh vigor. The whole show has been on fire from the word go. I come down to the water to cool my eyes, but everywhere I go I see fire; that which isn't flint is tinder, and the whole world sparks and flames."






Doesn't that just...leave you speechless?

Doesn't that just make you want to run outside and take everything in!?

Remember when you were little and you would examine everything? There's that picture of you from when you were three and you're squatting above the driveway with a rock inches from your nose. Or maybe your shoulder deep in grass with a leaf pinched between your chubby two year old fingers. Or you've got one of those cheap plastic magnifying glasses and you're examining a flower.

What happened? When did the extravagant intricacies of life become common place? When did I begin focusing on the center line and staying in my lane? Why did I stop pulling over to the side of the road so I could really stop and take in the beauty around me?

I have realized, after being back in the Pacific NW, how beautiful the leaves are as their changing colors marks the changing of the seasons. The leaves of the trees are these incredibly rich shades of gold, auburn, maroon, and orange. Some are all four and still manage to have a hint of green at the stem. How did I forget that leaves did this? It took removing myself from them for three years to reintroduce the response of profound amazement at their fantastical beauty.

And it's not just the leaves.

It.
Is.
Everywhere.

We just have to look, to notice the extravagances of creation, to notice that "the whole world is sparks and flames."

daydreams

I can still remember the first time I doodled my first name and someone else's last name. I was in my freshmen IB English class at Columbia River High School and my bird shaped / faced [ostrich / toucan] teacher was rambling on about...I don't know...english? Since that spring day in 1997 I've gone from being Mrs. Haley _______ to being Mrs. Haley Cloyd-_______ [or Mrs. Haley _______-Cloyd]. Two weeks ago I scrawled out the most exciting one of them all: Dr. Haley Cloyd. Not Dr. Haley ________ or Dr. Haley Cloyd-_______ [or Dr. Haley _______-Cloyd]. Simply Dr. Haley Cloyd. Me. Just as I am, at least in first and last name, and who I am aspiring to become, a doctor, a PhD.

The idea is terrifying and exhilarating. Walking through the campus of one of the schools to which I am applying today, I was struck by this thought: "Professor Cloyd, how long does our mid-term paper have to be?" My breath caught in my chest and I smiled remembering the response of a favorite college professor: "As long as it needs to be for you to make your point." The next thought almost made me trip: "Students will call me Dr. Cloyd."

I used to imagine altered daily routines that included another person,a husband--my husband. And while those daydreams still exist and still occur, these new dreams exist. Now I am playing out scenarios that involve office hours spent meeting with nervous undergrads and grading stacks of papers. I imagine observational studies and I find myself contemplating various areas of research interest. I make mental lists of academics I could partner with in my research. I imagine wearing [attractive, fashion forward] tweed jackets with trouser jeans and boots as I walk around the front of a lecture hall extolling the positives and negatives of behavioral psychology. I picture the shocked looks on the faces of my students as I regale them with tales of psychological experiments prior to the introduction of ethical standards and committees.

I am terrified because every day I am actively pursuing this dream.

I am exhilarated because every day I am actively pursuing this dream.

GREat

I just scheduled my GRE. My heart was beating so fast the entire time. I think I even got a little sweaty. I have decided to take it on a Friday, and I have decided to take that day off of work.

Did you know it costs $140 to take the GRE?! I know. Me either. I was a little shocked.

Is it worth it? Of course it is.

Here is an excerpt from an email I wrote to Rosemary a few weeks ago. It pretty accurately describes how this whole GRE / applying to grad school / pursuing my dreams experience feels for me:

"Studying for the GREs...sort of. I hate studying for tests that I don't want to take. I hate studying for tests that I don't want to take but know I HAVE to take even more. But the more I think about going back to school and the more I walk through the Portland State campus, which I do every day on my way to and from the bus to work, I get more and more excited about going back. Really what it all boils down to is being afraid. Yes. I am afraid of applying to grad school. Why? Because I want it so badly that I'm scared they will say no. Why would they say no? Because they get hundreds of applicants. Or at least more than their program can hold. So I am scared. And it feels a little like I'm at the edge of this amazing cliff looking down into the deepest most beautiful pool of water. All I want to do is jump in. It's hot up on the cliff and the water is so cool and inviting. But it's quite a distance from the cliff to the water, and I'm not sure I can jump. I go back and forth between being ready to jump, scared and screaming out of fear, excitement and exhilaration, and staying on the ledge, somewhat safe, but altogether annoyed with life on the ledge."

ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh

Just met with the head of the Applied Psychology Graduate Admissions Committee.

I was SO NERVOUS.

It went SO WELL. [So good?]

I'm all jittery and nervous, but in a much better way than I was before meeting with him.

Holy crap.

furious

There are plenty of things to get riled up about as the election draws near. I can't even begin to get into it because I will be here until November 4. At least. But here's what I know, this:



makes me furious.

And in case you want to know what other Alaskan women think about Sarah Barracuda, check out what another Alaskan I am so proud to call my dear friend has to say.

More rantin' later. You folks have a great weekend. Wink!