Addiction

Addiction (noun): the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, such as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma. (From dictionary.com)

I've never had a substance addiction (other than a slight one to caffeine that affects the typical college student). However, I do know that "addictions" and obsessions are dangerous in my life. Usually it revolves around some movie, TV show, or other pop culture phenomena. My latest addiction: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

I know what you're thinking right now: "Wait, you're addicted to a television show that has been over for 7 years?" The truth is, yes, I am. Well, was up until I finished the seventh and final season of Buffy yesterday. The source of this problem is two-fold: too much time on my hands since I don't have studying to do and Netflix Instant. All seven season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are available instantly on Netflix, and what has made it easier has been the Roku player that allows me to now watch these instant movies on my TV.

Now don't get me wrong, I've thoroughly enjoyed the 100 or so hours I've spent with Buffy, Giles, Willow, Xander, and the rest of the Scoobies. However, within the past two days alone, I watched the entire seventh season of this show. This equates to having accomplished and done almost nothing else. What do I have to show for it? An ability to connect to people over an old cult classic? Perhaps. More immediate effects have been strange dreams about super strength fighting skills and sexy, non-sparkling vampires. Also, I have a feeling that during the next week I will be going through Buffy withdrawal, and adding "y" to just about any word to make it an adjective.

All in all, I know that I have spent too much time watching Buffy on Netflix. Maybe it could have been better if it was more spread out and I didn't watch 5+ episodes in one day. All that I know now is that I have more time to be more productive. More time to practice French for my oral exam on Friday, more time with God in the Word and in prayer, more time to spend getting to know people better and building into their lives.

And also time to get addicted to a new television show...

In my lifetime...

Inspired by a vlog from Kristina Horner: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_ufhex2AsI.

In my lifetime, I want to:

1. Write a book and get it published.

2. Be fluent in French.

3. Learn a third language.

4. Visit six of the seven continents.

5. Go on a missions trip (at least a short-term one).

6. Live in a state other than Michigan, at least for a little while.

7. Write my own recipes and compile them into my own cookbook.

8. Be a a part of seeing someone come to Christ, discipling them, and seeing them disciple others.

9. Get a Masters and a PhD.

10. Make a difference in students' lives.

Transitions

I'm at a strange point in my life where I seem to have been caught in between two life stages: college and the real world. I graduated in December, but right now I'm just working until I begin my student teaching in the fall. (My university's student teaching program is a full year that happens after graduation and the achievement of a bachelor's degree.) I'm in a state of liminality. Liminality is the uncomfortable condition of being caught betwixt and between (as discussed in Victor Turner's The Anthropology of Performance).

While I do often feel uncomfortable about this situation in which I seem to not be moving forward, I also want to enjoy it. First of all, as a future teacher, this is one of the few periods in my life where I will not have to be constantly working and planning. Also, this is my last chance to spend time with college friends. There have been a lot more opportunities presenting themselves to just have fun, like concerts and other once-in-a-lifetime type of events. Yet, I always go back to thinking about the future. Where will I be 2 years from now? Will I be teaching in another state? Will I get a chance to travel? Will I be dating?

During my freshman year of college, I wrote an essay that compared a refugee's memoir with my own experiences of feeling "displaced." It is a strange thing to go back to that essay about how I no longer felt at home anywhere and realize that I've changed so much since then. For one, I do feel at home at MSU: the university has been the center of my life for almost 5 years. I wrote in the essay (entitled "Nowhere") that "I have yet to discover where exactly my heart lies, because I am in the middle of two places. My home is “now here” and “nowhere” at the same time." I am about to enter this physical liminality soon, while now I am still dealing with a metaphysical liminality, or a temporal liminality as it were. Yet, God comforts me.

“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well. -Luke 12:27-31