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    I GOT INTO FAU!!!!!!

    That’s part of the reason why I didn’t post for two days. I was so busy riding my emotional high that I couldn’t stop to sit and write. Let alone be witty. Normally, my wit floweth long and deep, but when I got the letter in the mail the only thing flowing in my head were the lyrics to “Oh How I Love Jesus” and “The Car Song” by The Cat Empire. The second song was playing in my head because my sister bought it for me and it’s freakin’ catchy. If you have some time, you should look it up on youtube. While you’re at it, you should also look up “Rhapsody in Blue.” Who doesn’t love “Rhapsody in Blue”?

    Communists, that’s who.

    What was I talking about?


    Let me tell you about the day I found out about FAU. It was equal parts glorious and frustrating.

    On Monday, after worrying and worrying and stressing and worrying some more, I finally gave the matter up to God. I was at the end of my rope, close to tears over everything, I was nauseated at the mere mention of food, and I basically wanted to spend my whole day running because when I’m mentally standing on the edge of a knife, I have to run to feel close to normal. That morning, before going into work, I finally looked God in the eye and said, “Ok, I’m done worrying about this. I can’t take it anymore. Here. You take this and do what you want with it. You see what I’ve done with it.”

    I let go.

    I threw myself off the edge and I trusted that I would fall into faith.

    Who by worrying can add a moment to her life?

    The whole day at work I tried my hardest not to think about FAU, but when things got quiet my mind immediately went there. I thought about getting let down again. I thought about another year in the waiting. I thought about never accomplishing any of the dreams that I’ve had since I was five and discovered those lovely little things called “books.” When those thoughts started popping into my head, I had to say to God again, “Take it! I suck at holding onto this thing!” I probably said that about 5 million times. Give or take. Not like I was keeping track or anything.

    That would be crazy.

    And I’m 100% sane.


   Anyway, that evening, I went for a run and felt normal. Have I mentioned how much I love running? I really love running. True, sometimes I feel like I’m going to die, but when I hit my stride, I could run for days. Ok, probably not days, but at least an hour and a half.  That day I ran 5.55 miles. The only reason I stopped was because it was close to 7 and I was starting to feel hungry. Unfortunately, I’m one of those people who will choose food over exercise. I’ve accepted this fact about myself. You should too.

    My running high didn’t last very long because as soon as I stepped off the treadmill I discovered that I’d twisted, bent, or pulled something in my leg because the second I put serious weight on my right leg it said, “You have got to be kidding me.” That killed my runner’s high. That and the fact that I then had to walk up a flight of stairs with my bad leg. Half way up the stairs I considered chopping off my bum leg and eating it for sustenance until the security guards found me and hauled me to my car. I tend to go for the extremes when I’m feeling any sort of pain.

    I finally made it to my car, leg intact, and by then, the thoughts had started again. I could literally feel a brazen little devil on my shoulder whispering every doubt imaginable into my ear. I wanted to flick him off, but my runner’s high had failed me and I hadn’t the strength. After about ten minutes of crippling anxiety, I finally said, “ENOUGH!” and beat the crap out of that little punk. I concentrated on Jesus and him and me reading “Pride and Prejudice” (which is his favorite Jane Austen fyi) and then I felt better.

     Twenty minutes later, I was pulling into my drive way. The mailbox stood there like a sentry guarding the door to my future, or, you know, my letter from FAU. I stopped, opened it, and the letter was sitting on top. Suddenly, inexplicably, every doubt and fear and stress and tear that had been hounding me faded, and I just knew that I’d gotten in. At that moment, I couldn’t think of anything negative. This monstrous joy swelled inside of my ribcage threatening to send me flying into the stratosphere like a hot air balloon. Don’t ask me why, in my drive way, still sitting in a pool of my own sweat, I felt peace. Perhaps God had planned it that way. (He does enjoy the unique and unexpected.) As soon as I opened the letter, I saw those words that I’d been waiting all year to read: “we are pleased to inform you…”

    Now that I’m on the other side, I feel extremely silly for having worried myself sick over this. How many times did I blog about how anxious I was over grad school? Crap, this blog was started because I didn’t know what to do without grad school. Have I mentioned that I really like school? That’s why I want to be a college professor. Dr. Byng has been the dream for almost four years now. Of course if I get married I might have to change my name. Or I could just lie to my husband, claim I’ve changed my name, and secretly live as Dr. Byng. Dr. Byng and Mrs. Hyde.


    Let this be a subtle reminder to you all: don’t worry, be happy.  Whether or not you believe in God or any kind of high power, your life is not some spasmodic conglomeration of meaningless occurrences. Even though I don’t understand the why or how behind it, I know there was a reason for my getting into FAU this year and not last. God wanted me where He wanted me for a reason. Now He’s moving me for a new reason. I’m one thread in a tapestry and no matter how hard I try, I can’t see the entire pattern. All I can do is trust the hand that placed me be the best freakin’ thread I can be.