Two things will happen this week that will impact our future. So, if you're the praying type, now's probably a good time to pray for us.
I hope I hope I hope that I can write a good post explaining more soon. We'll see ...
Sunday, April 30, 2006
random favorites
I tried to post a show and tell yesterday from the library, but even those computers don't handle change very well, and TWO completely froze up. Sadly. I have a show and tell planned, though, and as soon as I'm at a computer that was made in this millineum, I'll post it. Until then, here are a few favorites for you. See if, after reading each one, you aren't tempted to say, well, that's random.
favorite phrase: My mom has a brochure for a workshop entitled "Prisms of Place." Prisms of Place - I love the idea of picking up a place, turning it in the light, seeing it differently. What a well-written phrase. The workshop will probably be completely mundane - Prisms of Place is probably a computer program that automatically writes multiple choice comprehension questions, or something. Even so, I love the name. Plus, the brochure has a picture of a huge tree on the front. Even better.
favorite character from a book: I once read a book of Valerie's called "Eddie's Bastard." In it was a character named Annie, who was the main character's best childhood friend. I love Annie. I think about her all the time (still, and I bet I read this book four years ago). That sweet girl - so smart and so trapped, and nobody knew. Even the main character (was his name Billy?), who knew enough to help her, was naive. He saved her life, but she hated him for it, for what he saw and for needing him to save her at all. Annie is a complex character planted in a simplistic book that is otherwise full of stereotypes and hyperboles (think Paul Bunyan, dialed down). In retrospect, maybe the book was always really about Annie. Maybe the male characters were intentionally flat, so that she would stand out. Sweet Annie ...
favorite album: You might laugh at this, but I LOVE Switchfoot's Beautiful Letdown. Actually, I love about five songs on it. Every three or four months, it will be the only CD in my car for weeks. I listen to those songs over and over and never get tired of them, even though I don't particularly like his voice and it isn't the type of music I usually enjoy. Go figure. My favorite line from my favorite random album is: "We are a beautiful letdown, painfully uncool. The church of the drop-outs, the losers, the sinners, the failures, and the fools. What a beautiful letdown. Are we salt in the wound? Let us sing one true tune. I don't belong here ..."
favorite TV show: American Justice. It has become my habit to be at home before 5 pm every day, so that I can see the day's justice (or injustice, as it were). Yesterday I was actually yelling to the host (and whoever happened to be in the living room while I was watching) about the inconsistencies of the American judicial system. I knew they were going to convict that guy! Just because you're unfriendly doesn't mean you're a murderer! Don't worry; his conviction was overturned.
favorite food: Spinach. I bet you didn't know that about me, did you? When I am home alone for dinner, I almost always eat spinach and cheese omelets. Yum. And do you know how good spinach is for you? SO good.
favorite quote from the book I just finished: About ten minutes ago, I finished reading "The Rapture of Canaan" (I know books should be italicized, but I just can't talk the computer into it. And I'm already pushing my luck by blogging at all) by Sheri Reynolds. It was good - not The Best Book Ever, but definitely worth reading. I liked the rhythm - it reads like folk music. Anyway. Here's my favorite quote from it.
"All the time that I was growing and my baby was growing within me, all that time that I spent alone, I prayed that God would show himself to me, would come visit and help me strangle the lonely.
"He came to me in a thousand ways. Sometimes he came like a lamb for me to cuddle and nurse. Sometimes he sat on my bed and beat out hymns on the bottoms of my feet. Sometimes he rode in on the wind, his curly hair long and thick as mine, blown all over his head so that I was almost sure he was a woman, and he'd pull up my dress and put his mouth on my stomach and talk to the baby.
"Sometimes he came like a thief in the night. Sometimes he wore lipstick. Sometimes he sent James."
Beautiful.
favorite phrase: My mom has a brochure for a workshop entitled "Prisms of Place." Prisms of Place - I love the idea of picking up a place, turning it in the light, seeing it differently. What a well-written phrase. The workshop will probably be completely mundane - Prisms of Place is probably a computer program that automatically writes multiple choice comprehension questions, or something. Even so, I love the name. Plus, the brochure has a picture of a huge tree on the front. Even better.
favorite character from a book: I once read a book of Valerie's called "Eddie's Bastard." In it was a character named Annie, who was the main character's best childhood friend. I love Annie. I think about her all the time (still, and I bet I read this book four years ago). That sweet girl - so smart and so trapped, and nobody knew. Even the main character (was his name Billy?), who knew enough to help her, was naive. He saved her life, but she hated him for it, for what he saw and for needing him to save her at all. Annie is a complex character planted in a simplistic book that is otherwise full of stereotypes and hyperboles (think Paul Bunyan, dialed down). In retrospect, maybe the book was always really about Annie. Maybe the male characters were intentionally flat, so that she would stand out. Sweet Annie ...
favorite album: You might laugh at this, but I LOVE Switchfoot's Beautiful Letdown. Actually, I love about five songs on it. Every three or four months, it will be the only CD in my car for weeks. I listen to those songs over and over and never get tired of them, even though I don't particularly like his voice and it isn't the type of music I usually enjoy. Go figure. My favorite line from my favorite random album is: "We are a beautiful letdown, painfully uncool. The church of the drop-outs, the losers, the sinners, the failures, and the fools. What a beautiful letdown. Are we salt in the wound? Let us sing one true tune. I don't belong here ..."
favorite TV show: American Justice. It has become my habit to be at home before 5 pm every day, so that I can see the day's justice (or injustice, as it were). Yesterday I was actually yelling to the host (and whoever happened to be in the living room while I was watching) about the inconsistencies of the American judicial system. I knew they were going to convict that guy! Just because you're unfriendly doesn't mean you're a murderer! Don't worry; his conviction was overturned.
favorite food: Spinach. I bet you didn't know that about me, did you? When I am home alone for dinner, I almost always eat spinach and cheese omelets. Yum. And do you know how good spinach is for you? SO good.
favorite quote from the book I just finished: About ten minutes ago, I finished reading "The Rapture of Canaan" (I know books should be italicized, but I just can't talk the computer into it. And I'm already pushing my luck by blogging at all) by Sheri Reynolds. It was good - not The Best Book Ever, but definitely worth reading. I liked the rhythm - it reads like folk music. Anyway. Here's my favorite quote from it.
"All the time that I was growing and my baby was growing within me, all that time that I spent alone, I prayed that God would show himself to me, would come visit and help me strangle the lonely.
"He came to me in a thousand ways. Sometimes he came like a lamb for me to cuddle and nurse. Sometimes he sat on my bed and beat out hymns on the bottoms of my feet. Sometimes he rode in on the wind, his curly hair long and thick as mine, blown all over his head so that I was almost sure he was a woman, and he'd pull up my dress and put his mouth on my stomach and talk to the baby.
"Sometimes he came like a thief in the night. Sometimes he wore lipstick. Sometimes he sent James."
Beautiful.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Saturday, April 22, 2006
thoughts on the woman at the well
Have you ever watched somebody fall in love? When it's YOU, you're so enraptured that you really can't see it, but watching the process from a distance is educational. One thing I've observed: Love makes people brave. When you fall in love, nothing else matters except that this amazing person also thinks that you are amazing, and that knowledge gives people the strength to do what they couldn't do before. And whether you stay there or not, the experience marks a person. You can't go back to seeing the world the way you did before you fell in love.
I have been thinking lately about Jesus' conversation with the woman at the well (John 4). I have read it over and over, feeling as though I'm on the cusp of a deeper understanding that, so far, has eluded me. Even so, I love the respect that Jesus showed the woman. Not only did he tell her who she was, he also discussed theology with her. I wonder, before that day, had any man ever discussed anything important with her? Did her ex-husbands ever know she had an opinion? Before that day, had she ever talked to a man that she didn't hate or fear? The Pharisees couldn't squeeze an argument out of him. Every question was either returned or answered in riddle. But this woman, despised for her race, gender, and lifestyle, became Jesus' confidant.
The Pharisees were looking for a politician, and the disciples wanted a rebellion. Jesus befuddled them both. He healed the sick, fed the hungry, told stories, respected women. Nobody got what they wanted, but everyone had what they needed, if they were willing to accept it. Only the desperate were willing. Jesus came to turn the world on its ear, and I love him for it.
And, like the Samaritan woman, that love changes me.
I have been thinking lately about Jesus' conversation with the woman at the well (John 4). I have read it over and over, feeling as though I'm on the cusp of a deeper understanding that, so far, has eluded me. Even so, I love the respect that Jesus showed the woman. Not only did he tell her who she was, he also discussed theology with her. I wonder, before that day, had any man ever discussed anything important with her? Did her ex-husbands ever know she had an opinion? Before that day, had she ever talked to a man that she didn't hate or fear? The Pharisees couldn't squeeze an argument out of him. Every question was either returned or answered in riddle. But this woman, despised for her race, gender, and lifestyle, became Jesus' confidant.
The Pharisees were looking for a politician, and the disciples wanted a rebellion. Jesus befuddled them both. He healed the sick, fed the hungry, told stories, respected women. Nobody got what they wanted, but everyone had what they needed, if they were willing to accept it. Only the desperate were willing. Jesus came to turn the world on its ear, and I love him for it.
And, like the Samaritan woman, that love changes me.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
tagged
So I PASS on the Six Weird Things (who wants to hear about my weirdness? Plus, anything that's actually weird I would not post publicly, so let's skip the formality). But I need a good filler - like Mary, there are things in my life that I don't want publicly recorded, and those things are currently taking up brainspace usually reserved for blogging - so I'm going to do the life survey instead.
1. What is your idea of perfect happiness?
70 degrees in the sunshine with a cup of coffee and nowhere to be.
2. What is your greatest fear?
Desertion. Second place would be snakes.
3. Which living person do you most admire and why?
I admire my mom's dignity. I admire Stephanie's loyalty. Amanda's thoughtfulness. Mikkee's strength. Brian's hunger. Laurie's tenacity. I could keep going ...
4. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
I am a bad communicator. The more excited I am about what you're saying, the more likely I am to interrupt you. I'M SORRY.
5. What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Cruelty.
6. What has been your most embarrassing moment?
As if I would tell you.
7. What vehicles do you own?
Well ... I own a Honda Civic. But that's not so interesting ... my parents, on the other hand, own FIVE CARS, which is more entertaining than a Honda.
8. What is your greatest extravagance?
I live a middle class lifestyle. Most of my time is spent on extravagance.
9. What is your most treasured possession?
My pictures.
10. Where would you like to live?
I want to be where I am more than I want to live in a particular place. So, here.
11. What makes you depressed?
Mistreated children.
12. What do you most dislike about your appearance?
If I tell you, then the next time you see me you'll notice and think, she's right. That's not so appealing. So I think I'll keep that to myself.
13. Who would play you in a movie of your life?
Probably some normal looking maternal figure like Sally Field.
14. What is your most unappealing habit?
I tend to clean in spurts. It drives Brian/ roommates crazy.
15. What is your favorite smell?
Coffee. Vanilla, because it smells like home. Cinnamon.
16. What is your favorite word?
Redemption. Restoration.
17. What is your favorite book?
Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?
18. What is your fancy dress costume of choice?
Um ... I have only one outfit. I wear jeans and cotton shirts and sandals. Count on it.
19. Radiator or air conditioning?
Are you asking me to choose? I'm a middle class American. I don't have to choose.
20. Cat or dog?
Dog.
21. Is it better to give or to receive?
I agree with Janet - you can't have one without the other.
22. What is your guiltiest pleasure?
Avoiding salaried career-type work.
23. To whom would you most like to say sorry and why?
I think I'm all caught up.
24. What or who is the greatest love of your life?
You already know ...
25. Which living person do you most despise and why?
I have the hardest time with people who have hurt people that I love.
26. Have you ever said “I love you” without meaning it?
I don't think so.
27. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
"So" "..." "Anyway" "Good times"
28. What has been your biggest disappointment?
That there are no guarantees.
29. What is your greatest regret?
I would have enjoyed having an English degree.
30. When and where were you happiest?
PHS, Auburn, Nashville.
31. When did you last cry, and why?
Last week. Over things beyond my control.
32. How do you relax?
West Wing relaxes me (seems like an oxymoron, doesn't it?). So does sitting on the back porch. So does talking to a friend.
33. What single thing would improve the quality of your life?
Not needing a single thing to improve my quality of life.
34. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Peace.
35. What keeps you awake at night?
Not much. I usually collapse into bed ... Most of the time, I've already fallen asleep on the couch and wake up just enough to get to the bed.
36. What song would you like played at your funeral?
The Love of God, by Rich Mullins.
37. How would you like to be remembered?
As someone who loved well.
38. What is the most important lesson life has taught you?
There is a season for everything.
1. What is your idea of perfect happiness?
70 degrees in the sunshine with a cup of coffee and nowhere to be.
2. What is your greatest fear?
Desertion. Second place would be snakes.
3. Which living person do you most admire and why?
I admire my mom's dignity. I admire Stephanie's loyalty. Amanda's thoughtfulness. Mikkee's strength. Brian's hunger. Laurie's tenacity. I could keep going ...
4. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
I am a bad communicator. The more excited I am about what you're saying, the more likely I am to interrupt you. I'M SORRY.
5. What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Cruelty.
6. What has been your most embarrassing moment?
As if I would tell you.
7. What vehicles do you own?
Well ... I own a Honda Civic. But that's not so interesting ... my parents, on the other hand, own FIVE CARS, which is more entertaining than a Honda.
8. What is your greatest extravagance?
I live a middle class lifestyle. Most of my time is spent on extravagance.
9. What is your most treasured possession?
My pictures.
10. Where would you like to live?
I want to be where I am more than I want to live in a particular place. So, here.
11. What makes you depressed?
Mistreated children.
12. What do you most dislike about your appearance?
If I tell you, then the next time you see me you'll notice and think, she's right. That's not so appealing. So I think I'll keep that to myself.
13. Who would play you in a movie of your life?
Probably some normal looking maternal figure like Sally Field.
14. What is your most unappealing habit?
I tend to clean in spurts. It drives Brian/ roommates crazy.
15. What is your favorite smell?
Coffee. Vanilla, because it smells like home. Cinnamon.
16. What is your favorite word?
Redemption. Restoration.
17. What is your favorite book?
Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?
18. What is your fancy dress costume of choice?
Um ... I have only one outfit. I wear jeans and cotton shirts and sandals. Count on it.
19. Radiator or air conditioning?
Are you asking me to choose? I'm a middle class American. I don't have to choose.
20. Cat or dog?
Dog.
21. Is it better to give or to receive?
I agree with Janet - you can't have one without the other.
22. What is your guiltiest pleasure?
Avoiding salaried career-type work.
23. To whom would you most like to say sorry and why?
I think I'm all caught up.
24. What or who is the greatest love of your life?
You already know ...
25. Which living person do you most despise and why?
I have the hardest time with people who have hurt people that I love.
26. Have you ever said “I love you” without meaning it?
I don't think so.
27. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
"So" "..." "Anyway" "Good times"
28. What has been your biggest disappointment?
That there are no guarantees.
29. What is your greatest regret?
I would have enjoyed having an English degree.
30. When and where were you happiest?
PHS, Auburn, Nashville.
31. When did you last cry, and why?
Last week. Over things beyond my control.
32. How do you relax?
West Wing relaxes me (seems like an oxymoron, doesn't it?). So does sitting on the back porch. So does talking to a friend.
33. What single thing would improve the quality of your life?
Not needing a single thing to improve my quality of life.
34. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Peace.
35. What keeps you awake at night?
Not much. I usually collapse into bed ... Most of the time, I've already fallen asleep on the couch and wake up just enough to get to the bed.
36. What song would you like played at your funeral?
The Love of God, by Rich Mullins.
37. How would you like to be remembered?
As someone who loved well.
38. What is the most important lesson life has taught you?
There is a season for everything.
it's getting hot in here
Best Coffee Story Ever:
I made a bea-u-ti-ful drink today, if I do say so myself. It was sixteen ounces of vanilla caramel whipped cream goodness, and the lady was so pleased when she received it that she
a. ordered another
b. told me my drink looked sexy, and
c. tipped me a dollar.
Wow.
Now that's a drink, friends.
I made a bea-u-ti-ful drink today, if I do say so myself. It was sixteen ounces of vanilla caramel whipped cream goodness, and the lady was so pleased when she received it that she
a. ordered another
b. told me my drink looked sexy, and
c. tipped me a dollar.
Wow.
Now that's a drink, friends.
Friday, April 14, 2006
4-14-06
Hope is the thing with feathers
the flutters in the soul
it sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all. - ED (from the memory of SG - please forgive any inconsistencies)
This Good Friday, Hope has been on my mind. Happy Easter to you all. Happy death and life, everybody ...
the flutters in the soul
it sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all. - ED (from the memory of SG - please forgive any inconsistencies)
This Good Friday, Hope has been on my mind. Happy Easter to you all. Happy death and life, everybody ...
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Odds and Ends
Ready?
1. BUF wrote about community a few days ago, in which she said that it is easier to be isolated than to be honest. I've said this to her, but I'll say it again: even the fact that you're being honest about being uncomfortable is its own form of community. Even in this, you're doing the very thing you're afraid of doing. Just a thought.
2. MEchelle has been talking about the Gospel of Judas, and about whether or not Judas was "set up" by Jesus to be the betrayer. The conversation (in the realworld, if not in blogdom) meandered into Pharoah and Romans and why God would harden someone's heart, etc ... here are my thoughts: It is out of line with the character of Jesus to set someone else up as the fall guy. That does not line up with anything we know about him, from either Scripture or experience. It's more likely that Jesus was prophesying, and was telling Judas what was going to happen. Since none of us has actually read the manuscript, none of us really knows ... Also, in the rest of Scripture, Jesus let people be. If they wanted to walk away, they could. If they wanted to follow, they did. He never forced anyone into anything. Rather, I think Jesus drew out what was already within a person (I think the enemy does the same thing). We know from the canonized Scriptures that Judas was stealing money from the community purse. So nobody had to convince Judas to be greedy or deceptive. He already was. That's my two cents worth ..
3. A short update on life in a coffee shop: Let's just say, for argument's sake, that there are two types of workers. There are kayakers and there are canoers. Kayakers like to work alone - give them their little oar and the water, and they'll paddle away. They may flip or they may not, but either way, they don't want anyone else's help. Then there are canoers (I am SUCH a canoer). They're looking at what's good for the boat, how to best maneuver without anyone else falling out. They're calling out commands to each other, they're alerting one another of rocks, and they see the water from a collective perspective. Here's the story of my life: I am a CLASSIC AUTOMATIC CANOER. Any of you that has ever had to complete a task with me will see this, I am sure. I look at the whole. I work on my part, but I'm never just looking at what I'm doing - I'm always seeing how what I'm doing is affecting someone else. And this is all fine and good. Except. I naively assume everyone else is a canoer. And, because of this, kayakers HATE me. They think I'm bossy and overbearing. Maybe I am - but I'm assuming they're going to boss me around too. I'm not trying to be in charge, I'm trying to get the job done. I work with two kayakers right now, and THEY HATE ME. It makes for a fun eight hours, let me tell you. But, all is well. After all, it's just coffee.
4. If I had a dollar for every person I see from my high school while at work, I could quit making coffee.
5. A Public Service Announcement: On April 24, the Wetumpka Public Library will be closed in observance of Confederate Memorial Day. That's all I have to say about that.
1. BUF wrote about community a few days ago, in which she said that it is easier to be isolated than to be honest. I've said this to her, but I'll say it again: even the fact that you're being honest about being uncomfortable is its own form of community. Even in this, you're doing the very thing you're afraid of doing. Just a thought.
2. MEchelle has been talking about the Gospel of Judas, and about whether or not Judas was "set up" by Jesus to be the betrayer. The conversation (in the realworld, if not in blogdom) meandered into Pharoah and Romans and why God would harden someone's heart, etc ... here are my thoughts: It is out of line with the character of Jesus to set someone else up as the fall guy. That does not line up with anything we know about him, from either Scripture or experience. It's more likely that Jesus was prophesying, and was telling Judas what was going to happen. Since none of us has actually read the manuscript, none of us really knows ... Also, in the rest of Scripture, Jesus let people be. If they wanted to walk away, they could. If they wanted to follow, they did. He never forced anyone into anything. Rather, I think Jesus drew out what was already within a person (I think the enemy does the same thing). We know from the canonized Scriptures that Judas was stealing money from the community purse. So nobody had to convince Judas to be greedy or deceptive. He already was. That's my two cents worth ..
3. A short update on life in a coffee shop: Let's just say, for argument's sake, that there are two types of workers. There are kayakers and there are canoers. Kayakers like to work alone - give them their little oar and the water, and they'll paddle away. They may flip or they may not, but either way, they don't want anyone else's help. Then there are canoers (I am SUCH a canoer). They're looking at what's good for the boat, how to best maneuver without anyone else falling out. They're calling out commands to each other, they're alerting one another of rocks, and they see the water from a collective perspective. Here's the story of my life: I am a CLASSIC AUTOMATIC CANOER. Any of you that has ever had to complete a task with me will see this, I am sure. I look at the whole. I work on my part, but I'm never just looking at what I'm doing - I'm always seeing how what I'm doing is affecting someone else. And this is all fine and good. Except. I naively assume everyone else is a canoer. And, because of this, kayakers HATE me. They think I'm bossy and overbearing. Maybe I am - but I'm assuming they're going to boss me around too. I'm not trying to be in charge, I'm trying to get the job done. I work with two kayakers right now, and THEY HATE ME. It makes for a fun eight hours, let me tell you. But, all is well. After all, it's just coffee.
4. If I had a dollar for every person I see from my high school while at work, I could quit making coffee.
5. A Public Service Announcement: On April 24, the Wetumpka Public Library will be closed in observance of Confederate Memorial Day. That's all I have to say about that.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Paper Plate Awards
The following post is a complete indulgence into private jokes and personal life. It has nothing to do with Jesus, religion, literature, art, politics, or culture. You will definitely read at least a few of these and think, what is THAT supposed to mean? It's a weak post. I'll admit it. It's ok - I want to do it anyway.
Also - I HAVE THE WORST MEMORY EVER. EVER EVER EVER. So there's no way this will be a complete list. If you should read this and think, wow. I'm not listed. Shows how much she thinks about me - if that is what you think, STOP THAT THOUGHT. All that it means is that I am an official dufushead and there's no way I'll write down everything I meant to say the first go around. So, rather than assume that I forgot because I didn't care, you should send me an email that says - Yo! Dufushead! You forgot me!
Ok, enough already. Let's get on with it.
Anybody ever heard of Paper Plate Awards? The children's program at the Lake used to use them. Every year people received Paper Plate Awards, marking their most memorable moment at camp that summer - Most Likely to Throw Up Spaghetti, Most Likely to Be Covered in Green Glitter, The Group Mom Award, The Fewest Showers per Week Award - important things like that. I'm giving out my own blogversion of Paper Plate Awards today. Except that we all know I'm not very good at being funny. If I stumble into something witty, we'll accept it for the fluke that it is ... these will probably become more serious than I intend for them to be. But that's ok, too. I just want to do it.
Both active bloggers and blog commenters have been considered for this post. If you comment privately (via email, rather than the "comment" section), you are at risk of being mentioned. However, I promise not to mention anything that you have not said publicly ... I won't just start making announcements today. Also, we have several newbies among us. I must say that you're at a disadvantage among the constituents of the Paper Plate committee (which would be ME), because, well, your blogging personality just isn't completely formed yet. But Paper Plate Awards are given based on merit, not just annually, so all is not lost.
So here it is. If you'd like to visualize, picture sitting at Barley's right now (which is the best pizza place ever, and a favorite celebratory spot of the band&co in Asheville, NC, for those who've never been). Some are drinking beer, most are eating really good pizza, everybody's talking over each other, it's great fun. And now I'm handing out some awfully cute glittered and markered paper plates, just for you ...
Elizabeth wins the Most Elusive Blogger Plate. She kind of pops in and out of blogdom ... in real life, Elizabeth also wins the Diligence and Hard Work Plate. Because that's just the kind of girl she is ...
Mary wins the Most Likely to Illicit a Response Plate. Sometimes I'm laughing, sometimes I'm cussing, sometimes I'm nodding in agreement - but I can't read anything Mary has written and remain passive. This plate would also translate well into real life. In real life, Mary also wins the Distributor of Cool Music Plate.
Lane wins the Creator of Most Blogs Plate. I think Lane intends to launch his business just so he can afford his own bloggy habit. Lane was also considered for the Most Trouble Created by a Blog Plate. In real life, Lane would win a plate for Best Maintainer of Mystique. I swear I've known you for ten years and still couldn't describe you to a stranger ... that's saying something.
Valerie wins the Storytelling plate for the episode In Which A Very Strange Man Slept Under Her House. Beautiful. In real life, Valerie would win the Most Random Plate. My all-time favorite Valerie story is one you all know. I have about fifteen people eating chili in my living room while I'm trying to decide if my sister has eloped, or is lying dead in a ditch somewhere. I'm also trying very hard not to hyperventilate, when Valerie calls to say, "Are you watching the cooking channel?" This is what I mean.
Heather wins the Most Honest Blogger Plate. Heather is always open, even when being honest means that she is not on the cool side of the argument. This is also true for her in real life. So her real life plate and her blogger plate are the same.
Allison wins the Coolest Pictures on Blog Plate. I loved the wysteria picture ... she's got a hundred more where that came from; you should ask her to show them sometime. In real life, she wins the Sister Plate. Whatever that means.
BUF wins the Most Original Blog Idea plate. Seriously - two people who've known each other FOREVER and now live two very different lives, writing a blog together - now that's good television, friends. In real life, Janet wins the Brilliant, Unpredictable but Not Out of Character Plate, and Carrie wins the Most Sincere Plate. Whenever I live in the same place as my stuff, I'll post some old pictures of you two. It'll be fun.
Until a few weeks ago, Nick would have won the Plate for Least Likely to Post What's Really on My Mind. That's not a criticism, I'm just sayin' ... But recently, Nick's shared more, so that's no longer his plate. Instead, Nick wins a West Wing Plate, just because we share an inordinate love for the show. In real life, Nick also wins a Loyalty plate. And he wins the You Think You Know a Guy Until You Spend an Hour With His Wife, and Then You Think, Wow, I'm So Impressed Plate. Not that I ever doubted you, Nick, but still ...
Since Nick has opened up, Laurie wins the Plate for Least Likely to Say What's Really On My Mind. In real life, her plate would be this: There's a line in Isaac and Ishmael (Season 3, Episode 1 of the West Wing) where Donna says of Josh, "Watch how he simultaneously puts me down and makes my point." I hope I'm not putting her down, but Laurie is the person with whom I'm most likely to disagree face to face, but turn around and make the point to someone else that I just argued against with her. I'm not sure what that says about either of us, but it's true. Can you make that into a phrase that would fit on a plate? I guess we'll call it the Isaac and Ishmael Plate.
Brian wins the Diligent Observer Plate. Ya'll - he reads every blog every day, but he rarely comments, and blogs with even less frequency. Go figure.
As for the commenters ...
Mikkee wins the Plate for Most Likely to Say, "I KNOW!" and "ME TOO!"
Georgia's Mom wins the Plate for Most Likely to Call With a Thought About My Blog. She's also most likely to say, "What are you talking about?" And this is what I love about her ...
Cindy is Most Likely to Send an Email that Would Be a Great Post On Its Own. If only we could convince her to start her own blog.
My mom - who made an appearance here, briefly, before submerging back into the 7th grade - is Most Likely To Comment in Spanish. And, just so you know, she really could write a good blog.
Linda, Amanda, and Erika all win the Plate for Most Likely to Comment in Spurts. Which is a good thing ... it's nice to know that there are still people alive who have something to do besides read these silly things all day long ...
Speaking of -
I'm going to go be in the sunshine. Enjoy your Plates and your pizza and your Saturday, and, above all else, Blog On.
Also - I HAVE THE WORST MEMORY EVER. EVER EVER EVER. So there's no way this will be a complete list. If you should read this and think, wow. I'm not listed. Shows how much she thinks about me - if that is what you think, STOP THAT THOUGHT. All that it means is that I am an official dufushead and there's no way I'll write down everything I meant to say the first go around. So, rather than assume that I forgot because I didn't care, you should send me an email that says - Yo! Dufushead! You forgot me!
Ok, enough already. Let's get on with it.
Anybody ever heard of Paper Plate Awards? The children's program at the Lake used to use them. Every year people received Paper Plate Awards, marking their most memorable moment at camp that summer - Most Likely to Throw Up Spaghetti, Most Likely to Be Covered in Green Glitter, The Group Mom Award, The Fewest Showers per Week Award - important things like that. I'm giving out my own blogversion of Paper Plate Awards today. Except that we all know I'm not very good at being funny. If I stumble into something witty, we'll accept it for the fluke that it is ... these will probably become more serious than I intend for them to be. But that's ok, too. I just want to do it.
Both active bloggers and blog commenters have been considered for this post. If you comment privately (via email, rather than the "comment" section), you are at risk of being mentioned. However, I promise not to mention anything that you have not said publicly ... I won't just start making announcements today. Also, we have several newbies among us. I must say that you're at a disadvantage among the constituents of the Paper Plate committee (which would be ME), because, well, your blogging personality just isn't completely formed yet. But Paper Plate Awards are given based on merit, not just annually, so all is not lost.
So here it is. If you'd like to visualize, picture sitting at Barley's right now (which is the best pizza place ever, and a favorite celebratory spot of the band&co in Asheville, NC, for those who've never been). Some are drinking beer, most are eating really good pizza, everybody's talking over each other, it's great fun. And now I'm handing out some awfully cute glittered and markered paper plates, just for you ...
Elizabeth wins the Most Elusive Blogger Plate. She kind of pops in and out of blogdom ... in real life, Elizabeth also wins the Diligence and Hard Work Plate. Because that's just the kind of girl she is ...
Mary wins the Most Likely to Illicit a Response Plate. Sometimes I'm laughing, sometimes I'm cussing, sometimes I'm nodding in agreement - but I can't read anything Mary has written and remain passive. This plate would also translate well into real life. In real life, Mary also wins the Distributor of Cool Music Plate.
Lane wins the Creator of Most Blogs Plate. I think Lane intends to launch his business just so he can afford his own bloggy habit. Lane was also considered for the Most Trouble Created by a Blog Plate. In real life, Lane would win a plate for Best Maintainer of Mystique. I swear I've known you for ten years and still couldn't describe you to a stranger ... that's saying something.
Valerie wins the Storytelling plate for the episode In Which A Very Strange Man Slept Under Her House. Beautiful. In real life, Valerie would win the Most Random Plate. My all-time favorite Valerie story is one you all know. I have about fifteen people eating chili in my living room while I'm trying to decide if my sister has eloped, or is lying dead in a ditch somewhere. I'm also trying very hard not to hyperventilate, when Valerie calls to say, "Are you watching the cooking channel?" This is what I mean.
Heather wins the Most Honest Blogger Plate. Heather is always open, even when being honest means that she is not on the cool side of the argument. This is also true for her in real life. So her real life plate and her blogger plate are the same.
Allison wins the Coolest Pictures on Blog Plate. I loved the wysteria picture ... she's got a hundred more where that came from; you should ask her to show them sometime. In real life, she wins the Sister Plate. Whatever that means.
BUF wins the Most Original Blog Idea plate. Seriously - two people who've known each other FOREVER and now live two very different lives, writing a blog together - now that's good television, friends. In real life, Janet wins the Brilliant, Unpredictable but Not Out of Character Plate, and Carrie wins the Most Sincere Plate. Whenever I live in the same place as my stuff, I'll post some old pictures of you two. It'll be fun.
Until a few weeks ago, Nick would have won the Plate for Least Likely to Post What's Really on My Mind. That's not a criticism, I'm just sayin' ... But recently, Nick's shared more, so that's no longer his plate. Instead, Nick wins a West Wing Plate, just because we share an inordinate love for the show. In real life, Nick also wins a Loyalty plate. And he wins the You Think You Know a Guy Until You Spend an Hour With His Wife, and Then You Think, Wow, I'm So Impressed Plate. Not that I ever doubted you, Nick, but still ...
Since Nick has opened up, Laurie wins the Plate for Least Likely to Say What's Really On My Mind. In real life, her plate would be this: There's a line in Isaac and Ishmael (Season 3, Episode 1 of the West Wing) where Donna says of Josh, "Watch how he simultaneously puts me down and makes my point." I hope I'm not putting her down, but Laurie is the person with whom I'm most likely to disagree face to face, but turn around and make the point to someone else that I just argued against with her. I'm not sure what that says about either of us, but it's true. Can you make that into a phrase that would fit on a plate? I guess we'll call it the Isaac and Ishmael Plate.
Brian wins the Diligent Observer Plate. Ya'll - he reads every blog every day, but he rarely comments, and blogs with even less frequency. Go figure.
As for the commenters ...
Mikkee wins the Plate for Most Likely to Say, "I KNOW!" and "ME TOO!"
Georgia's Mom wins the Plate for Most Likely to Call With a Thought About My Blog. She's also most likely to say, "What are you talking about?" And this is what I love about her ...
Cindy is Most Likely to Send an Email that Would Be a Great Post On Its Own. If only we could convince her to start her own blog.
My mom - who made an appearance here, briefly, before submerging back into the 7th grade - is Most Likely To Comment in Spanish. And, just so you know, she really could write a good blog.
Linda, Amanda, and Erika all win the Plate for Most Likely to Comment in Spurts. Which is a good thing ... it's nice to know that there are still people alive who have something to do besides read these silly things all day long ...
Speaking of -
I'm going to go be in the sunshine. Enjoy your Plates and your pizza and your Saturday, and, above all else, Blog On.
Friday, April 07, 2006
thank you
(I'm so so so tired ... I have no business trying to write something coherent that is going to be published and heretofore retrieved by the general public. And yet, this is me, doing it anyway. So, for the typos and glaring inconsistencies you come across in this post, I offer my profound apologies. I just can't seem to stop myself. I seem destined to write this post and use verbose hyperboles along the way ...)
I have no idea why this week, of all weeks, I've been thinking about this song or this period of my life. But I've had "Thank You" by Alanis Morisette in my head for several days now. Mary mentioned a few weeks ago that sometimes a song can express our emotions better than we can ... it's true for me, too. It's like sometimes a song or a poem or a line from a movie or a story looks me in the face and says YOU. THIS IS WHO YOU ARE. And when they do, I cling to them ... There's some higher lesson here, about needing something outside of ourselves to identify us, but as I've said, I'm too tired to delve into such things. Instead, I'll share one of those times and songs with you ...
Fall 1998. I'm at Auburn, living with Amanda and two other girls in the apartment that had the blue carpet, the Jewish neighbors, and the HUGE bedrooms. I was dating (but not yet engaged to) Brian. I'm in school, I'm in love, I love my roommates, life is good. Except that my grandfather was dying. His was not the sudden gasp of death like my grandmother's, which came later - it was, rather, a series of lasts, and it was horrible to watch. And I was doing my best to avoid the horribleness of it - the death that was taking over his life - by just avoiding him and my grandmother as much as possible. It worked ok for me, but it wasn't very good for my family. My mom kept wanting me to see him at the nursing home, call my grandmother, come home more often - annoying responsible things like that. I kept not doing any of them.
I don't remember what made me give in, but I finally went to see him one weekend in the nursing home. It was all of the horribleness that I'd been trying to avoid, sitting in front of me, silliness invading my dignified grandfather's body. I don't remember what I did when I saw him (I probably cried. I bet I cried). What I remember is driving home, and hearing "Thank You," by Alanis Morisette. I heard the lines "How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out / How about not equating death with stopping" and felt a release. That was exactly what I needed to do - I needed to cry, because it was sad, but I already knew that death wasn't the end. I needed to be reminded of that. The song gave voice to my emotion that afternoon. I listened to it over and over, and cried the whole way home. When I think of losing my grandfather, I think of this moment first, not his actual death.
Thank you, Alanis Morisette.
How about getting off of these antibiotics
How about stopping eating when I'm filled up
How about them transparent dangling carrots
How about that ever elusive kudo
Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence
How about me not blaming you for everything
How about me enjoying the moment for once
How about how good it feels to finally forgive you
How about grieving it all one at a time
Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence
The moment I let go of it was
The moment I got more than I could handle
The moment I jumped off of it was
The moment I touched down
How about no longer being masochistic
How about remembering your divinity
How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out
How about not equating death with stopping
Thank you India
Thank you providence
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you nothingness
Thank you clarity
Thank you thank you silence
I have no idea why this week, of all weeks, I've been thinking about this song or this period of my life. But I've had "Thank You" by Alanis Morisette in my head for several days now. Mary mentioned a few weeks ago that sometimes a song can express our emotions better than we can ... it's true for me, too. It's like sometimes a song or a poem or a line from a movie or a story looks me in the face and says YOU. THIS IS WHO YOU ARE. And when they do, I cling to them ... There's some higher lesson here, about needing something outside of ourselves to identify us, but as I've said, I'm too tired to delve into such things. Instead, I'll share one of those times and songs with you ...
Fall 1998. I'm at Auburn, living with Amanda and two other girls in the apartment that had the blue carpet, the Jewish neighbors, and the HUGE bedrooms. I was dating (but not yet engaged to) Brian. I'm in school, I'm in love, I love my roommates, life is good. Except that my grandfather was dying. His was not the sudden gasp of death like my grandmother's, which came later - it was, rather, a series of lasts, and it was horrible to watch. And I was doing my best to avoid the horribleness of it - the death that was taking over his life - by just avoiding him and my grandmother as much as possible. It worked ok for me, but it wasn't very good for my family. My mom kept wanting me to see him at the nursing home, call my grandmother, come home more often - annoying responsible things like that. I kept not doing any of them.
I don't remember what made me give in, but I finally went to see him one weekend in the nursing home. It was all of the horribleness that I'd been trying to avoid, sitting in front of me, silliness invading my dignified grandfather's body. I don't remember what I did when I saw him (I probably cried. I bet I cried). What I remember is driving home, and hearing "Thank You," by Alanis Morisette. I heard the lines "How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out / How about not equating death with stopping" and felt a release. That was exactly what I needed to do - I needed to cry, because it was sad, but I already knew that death wasn't the end. I needed to be reminded of that. The song gave voice to my emotion that afternoon. I listened to it over and over, and cried the whole way home. When I think of losing my grandfather, I think of this moment first, not his actual death.
Thank you, Alanis Morisette.
How about getting off of these antibiotics
How about stopping eating when I'm filled up
How about them transparent dangling carrots
How about that ever elusive kudo
Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence
How about me not blaming you for everything
How about me enjoying the moment for once
How about how good it feels to finally forgive you
How about grieving it all one at a time
Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence
The moment I let go of it was
The moment I got more than I could handle
The moment I jumped off of it was
The moment I touched down
How about no longer being masochistic
How about remembering your divinity
How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out
How about not equating death with stopping
Thank you India
Thank you providence
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you nothingness
Thank you clarity
Thank you thank you silence
C
God, what a week. Amen.
Topics that have been covered have included, but are not limited to: purity, prayer, sex-drugs-and-rock-and-roll, Season 5 (Zoee lives!), money, future careers, fishing, religion, and wisdom.
I'm giving myself a C for the week. I'm not the best at balancing my time (hence my lack of involvement in the blogworld), so I get a D in that department. But good things have happened this week, that's an A. I haven't seen much of Brian, B-. Leaving me with a cumulative C. But it was definitely more than an average week.
It's ok. It's early in the year. I've got time to pull it up.
Topics that have been covered have included, but are not limited to: purity, prayer, sex-drugs-and-rock-and-roll, Season 5 (Zoee lives!), money, future careers, fishing, religion, and wisdom.
I'm giving myself a C for the week. I'm not the best at balancing my time (hence my lack of involvement in the blogworld), so I get a D in that department. But good things have happened this week, that's an A. I haven't seen much of Brian, B-. Leaving me with a cumulative C. But it was definitely more than an average week.
It's ok. It's early in the year. I've got time to pull it up.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
drum roll, please ...
Mikkee got a promotion! She's been waiting for this FOREVER. So everyone say it with me - HOORAY FOR MIKKEE.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
on love and risk
There's been talk lately of Donald Miller's "Blue Like Jazz" (which actually needs to be italicized, but the computer isn't going to let me do it. What, with me just having tricked it and all, the computer is feeling a little peeved. So pretend that all book titles are appropriately labeled in this post, and we'll move on). This is my favorite part of the book, and it was actually used in the book as an excerpt from a play he wrote. Think Romeo and Juliet. Think about risk and love and the power of God and how God IS love, and enjoy ...
"What great gravity is this that drew my soul toward yours? What great force, that though I went falsely, went kicking, went disguising myself to earn your love, also disguised, to earn your keeping, your staying, rasped by a slowly revealed truth, the barter of my soul, the soul that I fear, the soul that I loathe, the soul that: if you will love, I will love. I will redeem you, if you will redeem me? Is this our purpose, you and I together to pacify each other, to lead each other toward the lie that we are good, that we are noble, that we need not redemption, save the one that you and I invented of our own clay?
I am not scared of you, my love, I am scared of me.
I went looking, I wrote out a list, I bled a poem of you. You were pretty, and my friends believed I was worthy of you. You were clever, but I was smarter, perhaps the only one smarter, the only one able to lead you. You see, my love, I did not love you, I loved me. And you were only a tool that I used to fix myself, to fool myself, to redeem myself. And though I have taught you to lay your lily hand in mine, I walk alone, for I cannot talk to you, lest you talk it back to me, lest I believe that I am not worthy, not deserving, not redeemed. Should I show you who I am, we may crumble.
I am not scared of you, my love, I am scared of me.
I want to be known and loved anyway. Can you do this? I trust by your easy breathing that you are human like me, that you are fallen like me, that you are lonely, like me. My love, do I know you? What is this great gravity that pulls us so painfully toward each other? Why do we not connect? Will we be forever in fleshing this out?
And how will we with words, narrow words, come into the knowing of each other? Is this God’s way of meriting grace, of teaching us of the labyrinth of His love for us, teaching us, in degrees, that which He is sacrificing to join ourselves to Him?
What great gravity is this that drew my heart toward yours? What is this that wants in me the want in you? Don’t we go at each other with yielded eyes, with cumbered hands and feet, with clunky tongues? This deed is unattainable! We cannot know each other!
I am quitting this thing, but not what you think. I am not going away.
I will give you this, my love, and I will not bargain or barter any longer. I will love you, as sure as He has loved me. I will discover what I can discover and though you remain a mystery, save God’s own knowledge, what I disclose of you I will keep in the warmest chamber of my heart, the very heart where God has stowed himself on me. And I will do this to my death, and to death it may bring me.
I will love you like God, because of God, mighted by the power of God. I will stop expecting your love, demanding your love, trading for your love, gaming for your love. I will simply love. I am giving myself to you, and tomorrow I will do it again.
God risked Himself on me. I will risk myself on you. And together, we will learn to love, and perhaps then, and only then, understand this gravity that drew God unto us."
"What great gravity is this that drew my soul toward yours? What great force, that though I went falsely, went kicking, went disguising myself to earn your love, also disguised, to earn your keeping, your staying, rasped by a slowly revealed truth, the barter of my soul, the soul that I fear, the soul that I loathe, the soul that: if you will love, I will love. I will redeem you, if you will redeem me? Is this our purpose, you and I together to pacify each other, to lead each other toward the lie that we are good, that we are noble, that we need not redemption, save the one that you and I invented of our own clay?
I am not scared of you, my love, I am scared of me.
I went looking, I wrote out a list, I bled a poem of you. You were pretty, and my friends believed I was worthy of you. You were clever, but I was smarter, perhaps the only one smarter, the only one able to lead you. You see, my love, I did not love you, I loved me. And you were only a tool that I used to fix myself, to fool myself, to redeem myself. And though I have taught you to lay your lily hand in mine, I walk alone, for I cannot talk to you, lest you talk it back to me, lest I believe that I am not worthy, not deserving, not redeemed. Should I show you who I am, we may crumble.
I am not scared of you, my love, I am scared of me.
I want to be known and loved anyway. Can you do this? I trust by your easy breathing that you are human like me, that you are fallen like me, that you are lonely, like me. My love, do I know you? What is this great gravity that pulls us so painfully toward each other? Why do we not connect? Will we be forever in fleshing this out?
And how will we with words, narrow words, come into the knowing of each other? Is this God’s way of meriting grace, of teaching us of the labyrinth of His love for us, teaching us, in degrees, that which He is sacrificing to join ourselves to Him?
What great gravity is this that drew my heart toward yours? What is this that wants in me the want in you? Don’t we go at each other with yielded eyes, with cumbered hands and feet, with clunky tongues? This deed is unattainable! We cannot know each other!
I am quitting this thing, but not what you think. I am not going away.
I will give you this, my love, and I will not bargain or barter any longer. I will love you, as sure as He has loved me. I will discover what I can discover and though you remain a mystery, save God’s own knowledge, what I disclose of you I will keep in the warmest chamber of my heart, the very heart where God has stowed himself on me. And I will do this to my death, and to death it may bring me.
I will love you like God, because of God, mighted by the power of God. I will stop expecting your love, demanding your love, trading for your love, gaming for your love. I will simply love. I am giving myself to you, and tomorrow I will do it again.
God risked Himself on me. I will risk myself on you. And together, we will learn to love, and perhaps then, and only then, understand this gravity that drew God unto us."
just a little miscallany
OH, but this computer is sssllllloooowwwwww .... I can hit the "connect" button, go to the restroom, get a drink, and sit back down before it connects to the internet. Plus, I had to TRICK the computer into letting me write this post. Using the internet in Slap-Out requires patience.
And? When you LIVE within thirty miles of your entire family (on both sides), every day feels like Thanksgiving. Just so you know ...
And? When you LIVE within thirty miles of your entire family (on both sides), every day feels like Thanksgiving. Just so you know ...
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