whitney dziurawiec

This is my third or fourth time trying to write again. You see, I’ve been thinking too much lately, and my jaw is beginning to tense up. Each time I try, I stare at the page and a half I’ve written, and erase the unorganized vomit of feelings and emotions I’ve attempted at putting into words. It seems they’re better at floating around in my head. And so I erase it and stare at the blank screen in front of me, struck by the fact that I feel like I’m staring into blank white right now in real life. Waiting for the story to continue, for the words to be written; God, I just want to know what happens. Back to the computer. I think I find symbolism too easily. There were a few good lines I wrote, a few good things I pointed out. But it was a mess, and I don’t like posting messes. I like them clean. I like them figured out. I like some flow. I’m not a perfectionist, but when it comes to writing, I can be a little over-critical of myself. And then I sigh and get off. I’ll try aga...

I’m sitting in my room, avoiding the heap of clean clothes strewn all over my floor. And the different types of underwear I’ve been contemplating to wear under my bridesmaid dress. You can’t wear the tight ones, because you’ll get a muffin top. Pretty bridesmaids don’t have muffin tops. And lacy ones will mark you as the slut. Not that I’m completely against that, but I don’t do one –night stands (or the good-girl version: one-night dances). No, I don’t just dance with you. I ask you to be my friend on facebook, then make you spend hundreds of dollars after calling me every day to come see me over spring break, and then dump you the second day of your visit to me. That’s what I do. I’m that bridesmaid. And that’s why I’m not the one getting married this weekend. So these clothes & I. We are having a staredown, and they’re winning because I’m ignoring them. I have this habit of never packing before midnight. It’s bad luck to pack before midnight, didn’t you know? See, I wa...

There is tornadic weather stirring, and I am not talking about outside. Blown away by winds of confusion & emotions; my heart is ready for the wind to die down. The tornado sirens in my head are giving me a headache and making my jaw tense up. And the tornado of people that came into Red Mango after their precious college world series game, thinking they can use eight sample cups. Do you know what happens when you misuse the sample cups, Mr. “I-think-I’m-so-cool-I am-going-to-ask-the-Red-Mango-worker-out-using-her-first-name-because-she-has-a-name-tag-even-though-I-can’t-drive-yet”? Well what happens is that the boss makes one of the workers stand there, welcoming everyone like an awkward idiot offering two samples per person so that the cup usage is no longer exploited. It was fun denying sample cups to the brats whose parents pay for them to go to every game of the series, I will admit. I love how He knows what I need. Last night I had a random skype chat with a random fri...

It’s a Sunday at 1:30 in the afternoon, and I’m sitting in bed in my pajamas. I visited Bedside Baptist Church this morning, and I am not ashamed. I am ashamed, however, that my busyness made me completely forget that Father’s Day is today. I tried to make up for it by a really good prayer at lunch but it felt vastly insufficient. Daughter fail. Yesterday I drove the awful route back from Lemars, Iowa. Normally driving for two hours through the Midwest is torture enough. Whitney, you know you have to take another route, a longer route, home because of the flooding. Oh. So my good father printed me out directions with maps for every exit and merge. He explained the route to me twice before I left. It will take a lot longer, but it’s the best way. I remember asking him if I could go a different way that was faster. Someone told me that I could do it that way. Whitney, I guess you can do whatever you want. But the way I told you is the best way, I know it is. I sighed an...

I have a big pet peeve right now. In the past few weeks, I’ve heard many friends proclaim “God is good” with smiles on their faces. Which should be good, right? It should cause me to praise with them and celebrate with them. But…I am annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that their statement of God’s goodness comes in the same breath after saying what good things are happening in their lives. “I didn’t fail my class, God is so good.” Really? Is the immensity and incomprehensibility of God’s vast goodness riding on whether you fail a class or not? Maybe it’s just that I’m not impressed. It’s easy to say God is good when you’re happy. Just the other night I was thinking to myself, “I love my friends, I love my job, I’m excited for SBA next year. God is so good.” God is really good when life is good. Like my friend who gets to move into an apartment with her sister, or my friend who’s getting married soon. Life is good, God is good. We say it in the same breath. When we get exactly what we...

It’s one of those I don’t feel like doing anything nights. Except eating. I could eat us out of house and home, so I’m staying in my room. I’m listening to optimistic songs and they’re oddly helping. Next is Christmas music. Or bed. I could really just go to sleep. I just read this passage, and it keeps blowing my mind. 31 When the LORD saw that Leah was not loved, he enabled her to conceive, but Rachel remained childless. 32 Leah became pregnant and gave birth to a son. She named him Reuben, [ b ] for she said, “It is because the LORD has seen my misery. Surely my husband will love me now.” 33 She conceived again, and when she gave birth to a son she said, “Because the LORD heard that I am not loved, he gave me this one too.” So she named him Simeon. [ c ] 34 Again she conceived, and when she gave birth to a son she said, “Now at last my husband will become attached to me, because I have borne him three sons.” So he was named Levi. [ d ] 35 She conceived again, and...