So today we had a reporting chapel.
This means that all of the missions trips that traveled abroad this past spring and winter present photos and stories of their trip to the auditorium full of students.
My team met an hour and a half early to talk about what we were going to say and how we could address Monica's absence in a way that honored her as well as the trip.
So that was rough.
It was, however, so nice to be with my team again.  My friends outside of the trip are pretty much at a loss in this situation, as they didn't know Monica or how she sculpted the trip for me.  So it was really great to be with them.
The presentation wasn't too exciting.  We all shook, I stared at my feet so as not to make eye contact with anyone in the audience (and start crying), and we sat down.
I keep expecting this to be over.  This weight and headache and exhaustion and aching. 
I keep thinking that after I leave New Hampshire, after I see people at school, after I meet with my team, after I do the reporting chapel...then it'll be over.
I think I know that Monica isn't coming back.  But these feelings, this indescribable grief, should be going away soon...right?
I thought I would feel better after this chapel for sure.  I saw my group, I talked with them and I cried with Rachel and we talked about Monica and we got up in front of the chapel and talked about Monica and yet I still can't think.  I'm still not hungry.  I'm still exhausted.  I'm still dizzy and shaky and my eyes still won't stop tearing.
On the other hand, I don't want to stop being devastated.  Losing Monica is a tragedy, and if I were to forget that, to get over that, then how much did she really mean to me?
Rachel told me tonight that she was praying with Monica a few days before she died and that Monica was asking Jesus to come back and take her home with him.
I know that she's in heaven, and I know that I'm supposed to be happy that she's with Jesus and that she's not suffering because I know that that's all she ever wanted, but I'm still so angry.
She was only eighteen.
My team is going to her wake tomorrow.  Then her funeral is Thursday morning at a Catholic church which is so bizarre to me because she really really doesn't like or believe in the Catholic church.  And then Friday is the Gordon memorial service.
This whole week is setting us up to say goodbye to Monica.
But what happens then?  No more Facebook statuses about her life, no more mention of her in emails or chapel and soon conversations.
I just really don't want Monica to disappear.  She was too good a person to have that happen to her.
I just miss her.

I feel like I can't breathe.  My chest hurts and my eyes hurt and I can't breathe.
This morning I woke up and wondered why my body felt so bad, and then I remembered.
Monica is dead.
How is this possible?  How is this real?

I met Monica last semester, as we were selected to be on the team to go to Northern Ireland through Gordon.  I had no idea what to make of her.  She was this little freshman that would look everyone in the eyes and ask them about themselves even if she had never met them.  She had no fear; as far as she was concerned, the world was her family.  She truly loved everyone.
I know when people die everyone says all these nice things about them and exaggerate all of their good qualities, but this was literally Monica.  These aren't aspects of her that I took for granted or just realized now that she's gone.  These are things that I noticed every single day I spent with her.
She was my closest friend on my trip to Ireland.  She was so wise and mature for eighteen, but such a goof ball at the same time.  On an afternoon shopping we decided to go up a cool glass elevator to the very top where there was this glass globe thing that overlooked the city.  About half way up in this glass elevator, we both remembered that we were terrified of heights and complete idiots for subjecting ourselves to this.  We laughed.  We took photos.

She was so friendly.  We went to a tourist shop after these photos were taken and she literally spoke to everyone that came within a three feet radius of her.  And not just hi, what's up; she asked them if they lived there and how their days were going and what part of Belfast they liked the best.
What most people are saying in conversation and on Facebook now about Monica is that she genuinely cared about people.  She never asked someone how they were unless she actually wanted to know.  She was so intentional, and so trusting in God.
We had so many discussions on the trip about God and life and death and what it means to trust in a God we can't see.  I would have never ever imagined that just over two months later, she would know all of the answers to the questions we were asking.  I can't believe this.
How do you move on from this?
My friend is gone.  I will never see her goofy grin or hear her laugh or ask her opinion ever again.  She texted me four days ago, and I never texted her back.  I'll never text her back.
How do you go back to your apartment, to your classes, to your job, knowing that Monica will never go to another class or see your apartment again or grow up?  How do you grow up when you know Monica won't?
How do you move on from something like this?
I think that the worst thing that can happen when someone you love dies is forgetting them.  I never want to forget Monica.  I haven't been able to stop being sad or trying not to cry or crying and I don't want this to go on forever but if I stop being sad, I stop remembering how much it hurts that she's not here.
I feel so bad for Kesha.
I'm at her house for break and I know she's sad too and I know me being sad makes her sad but I can't be happy.  I can't get over this.
What is the sense in living if it gets taken away so quickly?
How do you continue living your everyday life?
The most maddening thing about this whole situation is that Monica would know just what to say to me right now.

I miss her.

Last night I found out that my friend died.

I've read all of the articles and emails informing about the car accident and the drivers and they all say that it was Monica that died.

But I don't believe it.

I mean, I still have texts from her on my phone.
But they say she's gone.
This isn't real.

Back in Massachusetts, and here I was with all of my spring clothes from home, thinking the time was near to crack open the box of maxi dresses and flip flops.  I was hoping for a little sunshine, a little hope for an end to the days of freezing under six layers of clothing.

But oh wait, then we got a snow day.

Today the public school district cancelled school, and Gordon cancelled morning classes.

This is great, but I'm so sick of snow.

Right now looks like a lovely mix of sleet and snow coming down outside of my window.

Ugh.

Just when I was starting to think the end of winter was near.

Freaking March.  Always the worst month.

But at least I have a day to apply for internships and do my mountains of homework.

Yay snow days...but please let this be the last one.

Say Goodnight, Gracie.

I knew this day would come, but I had hoped it wouldn't.
One of those things you push to the back of your mind, knowing the time is creeping nearer and nearer.
But it has come, and I need to accept it.
I've arrived at the last episode of Will & Grace.

Season 8, episode 23.
There it is, sitting in a tab on my internet browser, calling my name.
But I just can't do it.
It was nearly a year ago when Greg introduced me to Will & Grace, and I've been hooked ever since.
And it has taken me almost a year to get through all eight seasons.
It's the greatest show ever created.
And as soon as I finish that episode, it will be all over.

So so so sad.
But the good news is that in putting off the last episode, I've been re-watching the first season and realizing that I don't remember any of them!
Candida at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.
I suddenly identify so much with Kesha's constant need to watch and re-watch Friends.
I get it.
Anywho it's 1:35 in the morn aaaaaand I guess I should be sleeping or something.
I don't know why it's just so hard to sleep in my room in this house.
Tomorrow I'm venturing to Philadelphia to spend the night at my cousin, Tamarah's apartment.
I haven't seen Tamarah in a long time and I'm excited to catch up.
And then the next day I'm picking Kesh up from the bus stop and taking her back to my house!
Soooooo excited.
She'll understand me so much better after spending a few days with my family.
They're the greatest.
So so strange, but the greatest.
I'm going to try out this sleep thing now I suppose.
Goodnight, friends!

Spring break is upon us.
Meaning, I'm in Jersey.
Much has happened in the two days that I've been home, but possibly the greatest experience was seeing Oz the Great and Powerful in theatres today.
First of all, the movie was fabulous.  I was expecting it to be good (I mean, it's Disney) but the effects and the camera work and the colors were just so so great.
But the real treat was the theatre.  For all of the time that I lived in New Jersey, I went to the same ghetto movie theatre three minutes from my house.  It's my movie theatre.
Sometime between Christmas break and the last few weeks, the theatre was renovated and turned into the most amazing movie theatre ever.
I'm serious.
So instead of the typical stationary rows of seating, each person gets their own red leather armchair that automatically reclines with a footrest at the push of a button.  In fact, these are the chairs:

Aren't these sweet?!  So Homie, Heather, Lucia, and I went out to the movie and hopped in these and oh my goodness it was wonderful.  Also, the movie was in 3D so that was pretty awesome also.
But shoot.
Shoot.
I just can't handle how amazing this movie experience was.  Even Homeboy said he wants to start coming to movies every weekend.  He was exaggerating, but such a claim was a big deal.
It was so great.
Also, tomorrow I'm taking a blast from the past and working at a concert in Pennsylvania.
In high school I used to work pretty frequently with my mom for local christian concerts, and tomorrow I'm doing it again.
I haven't worked a concert in at least three years, and I'm super excited to go.  I have the greatest memories of meeting people and learning things about lighting and soundboards and instruments.
I'm excited.
I'm also really really tired and I'm pretty confident that half of this post is pretty incoherent.
But hey, I'm not gonna proof read anything (but really, do I ever?).
Time to snuggle up with some Will & Grace.
Goodnight, friends.

So pretty much everything about being a com major is awesome.  We make films, write stories, and have to watch movies for homework.  It's great.
However, there are a few downsides to 'doing film'.
One being the equipment.
We have beautiful cameras that we can check out at no cost (unless we break them, which you might as well give up right then and there since these things are worth half of tuition), but they are heavy.  And I live far away. 
Not even far, I mean Gordon is a small campus.  But from the arts building to my dorm is pretty much as spread out as you get at this school.  And when you're carrying all your film crap, going back to your room is a trek.  Not to mention the fact that you're never just carrying a camera.  Where there's a camera, there's a tripod.  Or a dolly.  Or a shoulder rig.  Or all three if you're getting fancy.  Then you have sound, which is probably a boom mic and zoom recorder, then lighting which is a massive case.
And then you have all of the fun accessories, like thirty pound sandbags and extension cords and bounce boards.
Which leaves you with a ton of heavy expensive equipment, and no chance in hell that you can make it up to your apartment carrying it.  So you have to leave enough time to get your car, load in gear, unload gear to apartment, park your car back in the furthest possible parking lot (because when are there ever spots near your apartment?) and walk to wherever you need to be.
Anywho so that's one setback to being a com major.
The second is the reason that I have all this time to rant about my concentration.
The software.
Again, we have the best software and I know that I'm really lucky to be able to use it whenever I need, but right now we are going on hour two of my reformatting my film clips so that they can be uploaded into Final Cut Pro.  Two hours for four clips.
I have six left.

So that's setback number two.
Other than that, a communications major is pretty much as good as it gets.
Happy Tuesday!