The first weekend.

Starting Friday afternoon, I got to take part in an introduction weekend to Amsterdam.  Being as tired as I was starting off the weekend with mega twister (about 30 twister boards taped together with about 200 students) didn't seem like a great start.  However, our group bonded nearly instantly and we made a great time out of the games.

Each night as a group of about 20 international students, we went for an activity or two, dinner, and a night out on the town.  While the food tended to be less than fabulous, the activities included a canal tour, an improv comedy show similar to Who's Line is it Anyway, a guided tour of the city center, and ended with a photo scavenger hunt.  We pretty much went nonstop for 72 hours, which means I am currently about one step above comatose.

I have to admit, when I first found out that I'd be coming to Amsterdam this past March I was devastated.  Ideally we had planned to go to Edinburgh, Scotland, and Amsterdam was actually our last choice.  I didn't really know anything about the city besides weed, and I guess I had just had my heart set on the UK.  After the extensive tour taken this weekend, I have fallen deeply in love with Amsterdam.

The streets have so much character, 

the tilting canal houses tell a million stories, 

the whizzing and whirring of bicycles are the soundtrack to the fantasy tale told by the barely clad girls in shop windows of the Red Light District.  

The rain is sucky to say the least, but the grass is a shade of green unseen by my eyes back home.

I want to go into every shop we pass,

I want to ride my rusty, used, hand-brakeless bike over every inch of cobblestone alley,

I want to live in a canal house,

Pray to a hidden church in the middle of the 600 year old convent courtyard in the middle of downtown.

More to come later, as I have so many ideas running through my head that I can't seem to catalogue them all on my lack of slumber.  Thanks for reading, thanks for praying, and keep believing :)

A day in the life of a foreigner

Yesterday was a little vague, I’d like to give you some insight on some deeper concepts Amsterdam has offered these past few days. 

The food situation is… interesting to say the least.  Seeing as how we can’t speak Dutch, reading menus is problematic.  Some restaurants have an English version, but you have to ask for it.  Also, since we’re living in an apartment, we’re totally on our own for food.  No meal plan, no food court, no nothin’.  So far I’ve eaten French fries (frites), a cheeseburger (with a magical mystery sauce), and an authentic Italian Panini.  Tonight we were lucky enough to find a grocery store, where I bought a few staples: m&m’s, nutella, etc.

Oh yeah, so the grocery store.  They don’t really have carts, they have like carry baskets and then these baskets that have an extendable arm that you pull around similar to a suitcase.  All the labels are in Dutch, naturally, and the American items are about 10 times more expensive.  Reese’s Puffs for example were 9 euro, equivalent to like $11.  Holy shit.  So I gathered some milk, dutch special k (with chocolate obviously), loaf of bread, and nutella and headed to the 12 year old cashier.  As he scanned my items I realized there was no one to bag them at the end.  Okay, so I have to bag my own groceries, fair enough.  However, then when I ventured to the end of the lane, there were no bags to be found.  I politely asked the cashier for a bag and he handed me one about the size of those bags they put greeting cards in at Wal Mart.  For my basket full of items.  I frantically motioned over to Emily like, “What THE hell?!”  when she mouthed that we actually had to buy the grocery bags.  Yes, that’s right, you have to purchase your own grocery bags here in Amsterdam.  For about 20 cents a piece.  I quietly bought 2 bags and filled them with my things.  Absolutely flabbergasted.

What a concept though, buying plastic grocery bags.  I had somewhat noticed the green movement in pretty full swing here with the bike prominence and push for recycling, but man grocery bags!  Guess that’s an incentive to bring your own sacks though, I sure as heck am not trying to buy bags every time.

So, hows the money you ask?  Most everyone back home has asked about the cost difference between here and the states.  While I know the monetary difference is about $1.70 to 1 Euro, it honestly feels like I’m spending Monopoly money here.  It’s a different size, different color, and 1 and 2 Euros are coins.  Weird.  So honestly I’m probably blowing money left and right, but it doesn’t feel like I’m spending anything at all.  Probably not great.

Today, however was much better, as on the campus tour we were made aware of the food court (insert Hallelujah), I squeezed in a nap, and I was actually able to exchange my new phone number with some friends!  This weekend we have signed up for the International Student Introduction Days, where we will do various things in and around the city.  Very exciting.

For now the to-do list still goes on with finding a bike, registering for classes, loading my public transportation card, and buying trash bags.  We're definitely getting there, although I can't really tell if I'm actually mentally doing okay or if I'm just so freaking tired that I don't really give a shit about anything besides food and sleep.  Maybe at around the time my jet lag fatigue wears off I'll simultaneously feel more accustomed to my new home, but for now I shall finish my bread, nutella, and banana snack and head to bed early.

Miss you all,

Messie

Welkom

Good afternoon, America!  If you haven't heard, I made it across the pond to my quaint Amsterdamian apartment.  Uilenstede (pronounced owl-en-shted-a) is my new home for the next four months, a small collection of student apartments that house those who study at the VU (pronounced fvooo).

After a sleepless 7 and 1/2 hour flight, Emily and I arrived by bus to an afternoon full of information about our new home, a multitude of new accents (along with language barriers), and way way too much information to simply share all.  This being said, my plan tonight is to update you on what, to me, has been the most different from the states.  Any complaints you might find in this post should be taken as sarcasm, as I am trying to stay extremely optimistic, and realize things will eventually get easier.

After 24 hot, sleepless, and tear filled hours, as soon as I made it into my apartment all I could think was SHOWER.  However, this was extremely difficult seeing how I had no shower head...not to mention towels, shower shoes, or wash cloth.  What I did seem to have though in the corner of the sea-foam green tiled cube was a cold water running faucet.  Literally it was a faucet, and I managed to bathe my individual body parts with it for as long as my flesh could stand the needle-like sensation.  Okay, it wasn't THAT bad, but if you know me and my OCD with cleanliness you realize it was a little difficult.  And I'm sure you can imagine how clean I am today.... yuck.

So, Emily and I dealt with a stream of various feelings yesterday.  From sadness for leaving, to frustration with our rooming situation, to hunger from the lack of food, to extreme fatigue from the lack of sleep, we were basically one big, smelly, shit show.  Add one Heineken purchased LEGALLY from the pub down the road and I was essentially in a coma.  My weary soul passed out about 2 minutes into The Holiday.

This morning, after a warm welcome presentation at the university, we took a little walk around the town scoping out some restaurants, markets, and sights.  Now I shall simply list the vast differences I have noticed from my 48 hours of taking it all in:

1. The cars are smaller
2. The roads are skinnier
3. The biking
4. The amount of shrubbery
5. Everyone seems to say "Oh, I should have guessed" after I say I'm from the US
6. Everyone has a distinct smell
7. I have a distinct smell
8. No one seems to care about what they look like
9. The Cokes are smaller
10. There is almost always access to a pint of Ben & Jerry's (not just a pint of Heineken)

Alright so obviously there are about a million more things than this, but for my brains sake I'll save those for more in depth posts, I just wanted to give y'all a rundown on what Amsterdam has been like so far!  Aside from being overwhelmed, I am as I said still very excited and optimistic about what's in store for the months ahead.  It's kind of hard to see, via various social media, that life is still going on back in the states, just difficult for me to feel like I'm missing out; but I know that after the adjustment process I won't feel like I'm missing out on a thing.

Your prayers, emails, and even snail mail are always welcome, and appreciated!! My email address is jbmunn@butler.edu

if you're down to be a pen pal email or Facebook message me and I'll shoot you my snail mail address!!

Much love from Europe!  Afecheid!

Indian Summer

Driving in the car this afternoon, my mom and I began reminiscing this summer.  While we both agreed that the thought of summer ending literally made us nauseas, I could honestly say that this summer has probably been the best I've ever had.  I had so many awesome opportunities, made a multitude of unforgettable memories (and new friends), and really went out with a bang before my long awaited journey across the pond.  So this post goes out to all the fun-loving friends who made this season one for the books, cheers!

The first couple weeks of my summer were spent in good ol' Monticello, before I headed back to sublease with some of my sorority sisters back at BU.  My dear friend Brooke and I got to have a few days of fun before we parted ways... she took an opportunity to work at Universal Studios in Orlando... (and I thought I had a sick summer).  Anyways, we spent the last few lazy days of May going for walks, playing Just Dance 3, and taking a trip up to the Indiana Dunes on a perfect sunny day.

During June I kind of let my YOLO outlook take over my financial responsibilities by going out to some great concerts at a pretty sweet outdoor venue in Noblesville.  With many wonderful people in tow, we jammed with Brad Paisley, The Band Perry, Toby Keith, and Zac Brown Band to name a few.  The INSANE heat didn't keep us from tailgating or enjoying ourselves one bit, I mean come on... you do only live once, right?

 Reppin' the DG at Brad Paisley!

Sweating up a storm at Toby Keith!

Just missing Lindsey and Drew at ZBB!

My sublease in Indy this summer was spent with some fabulous ladies, especially my darling roommate, Lindsey!  Before she jet setted off to London for most of July we made some memories of our own rocking the football team in a case race, holding down the fort on our own only to end up with a house full of 20 people and some speakers we never managed to get rid of, and thanks to her I made some hilarious, genuine, free-spirited new friends.  

Lindsey, me, and the infamous pigtails I will never live down.

Bunch of yahoos enjoying the sun at our friend Ethan's lake house.

At the end of June, instead of hanging around BU for the infamous weekend of Midsummer, I took a Megabus up to the Windy City to visit my favorite Chi O girl, Maddie.  We stayed in a little place downtown, shopped the Magnificent Mile, had some INCREDIBLE Chicago-style pizza, and enjoyed a million hearty laughs and secrets.  

Maddie and I enjoying some laughs at a popular destination in Chi-town, Dick's Last Resort.

This summer also brought 2 weddings between 4 of the kindest, most genuine people I have met.  All, I might add because of Butler.  In June, my best friend Emily's brother married a wonderful gal, and Emily and I relished in the pre-wedded bliss at the rehearsal dinner.

Then a few weeks later, another amazing couple tied the knot while I had the pleasure of sharing scripture at the ceremony.  I danced the night away at their Pinterest-esque reception with some fabulous people, once again forced to beat the heat, but looking back, I don't think we would have had it any other way.

Post wedding Pre reception photo op with Brady and Lauren

Wildo and I making use of the photo booth

This fantastic summer also held some incredible milestones in the family unit, as my not-so-baby cousin graduated high school, my brother John showed his first pig in the county fair, and I ended my "reign" as the 2nd Runner Up to Miss White County in July.  Let me tell ya, nothing makes you feel old like sitting through someone's high school graduation ceremony when you realize yours was 2 years ago.

I knew since my last day of summer '11 that I just couldn't last another stuck in Monticello, and I wouldn't take back one moment of work, class, naptime, lake day, trip to the drive in, or midnight snack binge.  I am so grateful for the opportunities I have had this summer, so incredibly ecstatic about the semester ahead.  God Bless everyone I got to spend time with this summer, I can't wait to come back and do it again :)

Write this down.

Once upon a time there was a young girl who didn't have a clue what she wanted to do with her life after college.  She had dreams floating around in her noggin', but wasn't quite sure where to find them.  She was good in school, getting bad marks only for her distinctively carrying voice.  

In her teens she would find old journals that had been dabbled in, but never thoroughly completed.  She wouldn't admit her adoration for writing until her college years, through making an earnest effort to keep up with her journals, and posting her thoughts to her peers in a more public forum.  

Rewind to her years of off and on diary qualms and insert one interesting 18th birthday gift from her father.

This journal went unused until May 16, 2010, five months after receiving it, when she decided to use it as a way to write letters to people she couldn't find the courage to tell how she felt.  Whether confessions about her wrong doings, honest feelings she was scared to reveal, or cries for help from dear ones she could no longer reach in the physical world, she would use these pages as an outlet for her troubled soul.

Today, while she has discovered perhaps a few of the secrets to life that she knew not before, the journal still stands as a beacon of refuge when the world can at times be too much for her to handle.  

Which brings us to this moment.  22 days from the biggest leap of faith she will ever take.  And she doesn't know where else to turn.  These ever so often moments of distress sometimes lead her to look back to old entries, and see perhaps how her prayers had been answered from past despair.  

The following letter, while perhaps not changing the mood, put her in a more solemn, calm mindset.  Being able to have a way to reach out to her lost uncle, Brian.

5/16/10 11:30 PM

Dear Uncle Brian,

Did you know I loved you?  Did you know you were my favorite uncle?  Did you know that I wonder what my life would be like if you hadn't been taken from it?  Could you have been there for me?  Would you have supported me when it seemed that everyone else didn't?  Could you have kept them grounded?  I wish you could meet me now.  would you be proud of my mediocre grades and lack of motivation, even though they aren't perfect or matched with strong athletics and beauty?  

Now that I have been thinking about your passing, I realize how hard it was on our family, but is it ok for me to feel this way though I never REALLY had a relationship with you?  I wish I could know you.  Do you watch over me?  I wish everyone could see that I am so completely confused and really need to sort through all of these troubles.  

Will you help me?

I love you.

The remaining pages contain prayers, letters, and angsty rants of a teenage girl.  All of which have one thing in common: confusion.

She was confused about who she was.

Where she fit in the world.

Why she was the way she was.

Who her friends were.

Who her friends weren't.

How long heartbreak would last.

Why heartbreak happened to her.

What to do with her life and her talents.

What her talents were.

Why everyone cared what she did with the rest of her life.

If only she would have been able to see what so many people constantly tried to tell her.

To surround herself with those who made her happy, those who she didn't feel like she needed to make happy; and that someone, someday would help her realize that she needn't be so concerned about the world around her, but who was right in front of her.

I've Got Your Back

I've changed a lot since high school.  Everyone has.  I'm a firm believer that college changes people.  But not necessarily in a bad way.  I am so much more independent and confident than the girl I was three years ago, which comes from living on my own, making my own decisions, and finding out who I am in the midst of 4,000 young adults. 

Ironically, I've also always been one who hates change.  I didn't want to move from my childhood home, I didn't want to no longer be the only child, I couldn't handle my high school boyfriend leaving for college... and he didn't even move out.  Some might say I have some anxiety issues.  I might be one of those people.  But one thing that hasn't changed about my personality is my heart.

Alright so we all know I am a desperately hopeless romantic.  My heart melts when couples hold hands, I don't let myself be content until everyone around me is happy, and I wear my heart on my sleeve.  

I'm one of those ones who cares too much.  Like I was the kid who cried when I made someone else cry on the playground because I felt so guilty for hurting their feelings, or whatever it was.  I just get my feelings hurt too easily.  Where does the title tie into this?  Selfishness.

Sure, everyone can be selfish.  I personally am usually selfish when it comes to my family.  I tend to forget about the wants my brothers might have and sometimes throw my little tantrums when things don't go my way around the house.  But with friends (please tell me if this is inaccurate so I don't look like a total ass hole) I really try to put others first.  You know to keep the peace, keep my friends, and because I pretty much just go along with things to assure I'm not left out (honestly I'm not as big of a follower as that just sounded).

So that being said, I do appreciate being put first at least on people's radar of care.  Sorry, no such luck. I've learned through many experiences in my college career that sometimes people really just don't give a shit about anything other than themselves.  Sorry, that's harsh but seriously!

Maybe it's just our age group, maybe it's just the times (the media contributes a lot to everything this days), but I really struggle to surround myself with those with big, caring hearts, which is discouraging to say the least.

This being said, I have collection of wonderful friends who I know would do anything for me, who I love unconditionally and I know they do the same; so I don't want to step on anybody's toes.  I just want to put it out there that I don't think I'm the only girl who is hurt by others' lack of respect.  So maybe just think next time you're making a decision that might be affecting someone other than yourself, because it could really do some damage if you care to think about it.

Goin' to the Chapel

It should come as no surprise to you, if you know me at all, that I am a rather enthusiastic fan of weddings.  A wedding enthusiast if you will.  This being said, I very well may have used this title in the past, so my apologies if I'm showing redundancy.

Tomorrow is going to be a big day.  A woman very dear to me is tying the knot with her Butler sweetheart in a quaint Lutheran sanctuary lined with stained glass and rural charm, and I have the opportunity to share in the gospel with the guests a lovely section from Ephesians.

Ephesians 5:21-33 NIV

Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.  Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord.  For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior.  Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.  Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.  In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies.  He who loves his wife, loves himself.  After all, no one ever hated their own body, just as Christ does the church-- for we are members of his body.  "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh."  This is a profound mystery, but I am talking about Christ and the church.  However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.

Now for someone who is new to the submission talk in the Bible, these verses can be kind of challenging to wrap your mind around.  In our bible study this past year we delved into this concept pretty deeply, which I think is an important task to consider if you don't fully comprehend a Godly relationship.  To put it simply, God wants the man in a relationship to take after him, holding responsibility for providing for his wife and creating a safe, holy home for his family.  The husband should do these things as Christ does for us.  By his side, a woman should let her husband care for her, and create a well-rounded, Christian atmosphere for her family.  Again, with the work of God being her example.  Now, the husband and wife, side by side and loving God above all form the body of Christ.

So, I know this is still a lot to digest, but we can save the scripture dissection for another time.  The inspiration behind this post is how the bride has affected my life, and how my perspective on life and love is shifting thanks to her example.

The past year and a half or so have been a rollercoaster of love, infatuation, and heart break...and through it all I've gone from wedding obsessed, to ridin' solo, to trying to be the great girlfriend, to losing myself in trying to fit the mold. 

Yada yada yada.

& people keep telling me, you've got to stop looking, that it's going to happen when and how it's supposed to.  Well yeah, easy for you to say when you married your high school sweetheart.  & while I am trying so so so hard to let the plan run its course, I'm falling off the trail.  Thus, making myself feel as though I'm not even going to deserve whatever the big guy's got in store.

But seriously, my unstable emotions always get the best of me and when I'm waking up every morning from nightmares of failed relationships (pathetic, I know), crying over posted photos, and letting my imagination run wild I can't help but come to the conclusion the fairy tell ending just isn't in the cards for me.

Tonight though, as this matrimony is putting me into an optimistic sense of euphoria, I am going to make a promise to myself.  A promise to stop selling myself short, to pick back up my journal, and to remind my self why I deserve and want a Godly relationship.  I don't think I've lost my way, no, and I think it's important that I realize my heart is in a sort of danger of being tempted.  

So here's a love prayer:

God, 

Thank you for blessing this world with the lives of Shelbe and Joel.  Thank you for putting their example in my eyes, and for giving me the chance to be a part of this momentous occasion.  Be with the wedding party tomorrow, the families, and the congregation as we celebrate in your name.  Please continue to help me let go of the hurt in my past, the mistakes I have made, and the temptations I face.  Thank you for never giving up on me, even though I can't always feel it, I know you are always there.  

Amen.