Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Just because he looks like a mild-mannered reporter....

So here we are at the gas station, on the way back to my office after lunch. I am making Jeremiah talk to me while I am standing at the pump, because pumping gas is the Most Boring Thing Ever.

From my point of view:

Voice: *mumblemumblemumble*
Jeremiah: No, I can't do that.
Voice: *mumblemumble*
Jeremiah: Well, I'm gonna be gone in...[looks at the pump to see how much gas is already in the tank]...one minute, so no.
Voice: *mumble*
Jeremiah: I already told you no. [shrugs] Sorry.

This whole time, I am wondering who Jeremiah is talking to (but I stayed hidden behind the pump 'cause I'm a wus), and if they have weapons, and if they are about to break the weapons out, and if Jeremiah will have to use his martial arts training. (He holds the rank of second-degree black belt in TaeKwon-Do.) After the conversation is over, I see two teenagers walking away.

Jeremiah: Well, that's never happened before....

From Jeremiah's point of view:

Jeremiah: I saw two guys walking right towards me, and I switched on. I didn't know what I was going to have to do....

Teenager #1: Hey, can you run inside and pick me up a single malt?
Jeremiah: No, I can't do that.
Teenager #1: Wouldn't take you two minutes.
Jeremiah: Well, I'm gonna be gone in...[looks at the pump to see how much gas is already in the tank]...one minute, so no.
Teenager #1: Come on.
Jeremiah: I already told you no. [shrugs] Sorry.

This whole time, while Teenager #2 is looking shifty, as if he didn't expect the plan to work at all, Teenager #1 is trying to intimidate Jeremiah by not breaking eye contact. (Amanda, after hearing the story: Of all the people to try that with....) Jeremiah, of course, is staring right back at him. (Jeremiah, in his head: Two can play this.)

Back in the car, Jeremiah expresses his disappointment at not getting the opportunity to beat someone up....

Jeremiah: That was a rush. That was the closest I've ever come to having to use what I've learned. [pulls down the visor and opens the mirror] Do I look 21?

(Melissa, having heard the story: Um, no offense, but, no.
Amanda: He was the wrong person to ask on so many levels!)

All in all, it was the most exciting fuel purchase I ever made.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

The year draws to its close

For the past few Christmas seasons, I've thought I should send out one of those Christmas letters, or at least cards. Yeah. Still working on that. It turns out I have writer's block when it comes to updates. Also, it has been a crucible year, and I'm still too close to everything to put it all in perspective.

Almost. Because this is the perspective I do have: God has proven Himself again to be, as the hymn says, the joy that seekest me through pain. I can rail against His methods, but He knows what is best for me and what will bring the most glory to Himself, and I would not choose the easier, emptier way.

Abraham and Sarah spent years childless after being promised a son. The Israelites spent years in captivity after being promised a nation. David spent years running from Saul after being promised a kingdom. The world spent centuries waiting after being promised a redeemer. The son was born; the nation was founded; the kingdom was established; the Redeemer lives.

"How goes the world?"
"The world goes not well."
"But the Kingdom comes."


Hallelujah. May it be to me as You have said.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Work Wisdom

(Perhaps this post should be subtitled: You can come up with good analogies anywhere. But then I have analogies for just about every situation for which I have a theory, which is for just about every situation for which I have a quote, which is just about every situation.)



  • In the filing system of life, it’s always easier if you just spell it out.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Musing on infants

Jessie just posted about meeting a friend's baby. She posted a series of pictures.

It's amazing to think that once we were that small. At this time of year, of course, my thoughts turn more readily to the birth of Christ. If it's strange to think of ME once being that small (and I'm not all that large now), it's even stranger to think of Jesus being small. He who had seen the creation of the entire world opened His infant eyes for the first time to see a stable. He who could not even lift His own head had come to lift up our heads. He who couldn't do even one thing for Himself came to do everything for us.

Someday we'll be able to live in the glory of that knowledge always, instead of pushing it aside because it's too wonderful for us to comprehend every second of the here and now.

Monday, December 19, 2005

Grazing Day

Today is one of our semi-annual "grazing days" here at work. Everybody brings food and we all gorge ourselves all day long. We leave feeling bad about ourselves but good about the tasty food. Mmmm...hypocrisy....

What I've eaten so far today:
  • A bowl of Cheerios (I always forget just how much food there is going to be here)
  • A piece of coffee cake
  • A handful of Chex Mix
  • A few handfuls of bell pepper slices, some with dip
  • A few cucumber slices, some with dip
  • A few Ranch-flavored Wheat Thins
  • A few Multi-Grain Wheat Thins with a garlic cheese spread
  • 10-15 cocktail sausages
  • A small piece of brownie
  • A small piece of a chocolate chip/butterscotch/graham cracker dessert


And, yes, all this before 1:00 in the afternoon. I'm sure the eating will continue.

What I am bringing to the Christmas party I'm attending tonight:

  • A sour cream coffee cake
  • A...sugar thingy with a name I can't remember
  • Chocolate-covered figs
  • A loaf of cranberry pecan bread

What all of this means:

  • Holy indigestion, Batman!

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

The next thing: Why fear the future when the future belongs only to God? | by Andree Seu (Dec. 3, 2005)

I bagged rice on a co-op line elbow-to-elbow with a peaceful woman who was the mother of five children and several foster children, and was involved in the pro-life movement. I asked how she did it, and to her credit she didn't brush off the question with feigned modesty, but said, "I do the next thing that needs to be done."

I have pondered that statement for years, the distillation of a lady's life of wisdom. Laurie is a Christian, so I know what lay unspoken in her answer: God is sovereign, and God is good. Indeed, it cannot be otherwise if one would simply "do the next thing that needs to be done."

First, if God were not in perfect control, Laurie would have to control all things, even every atom in the universe, to assure a desirable outcome. But she knows she cannot in fact control all things, not even the next two minutes, and so she concedes control to Him.

Second, she believes that the God who controls all things controls them for her good (Romans 8:28). On these twin pillars does her soul find rest.Laurie's Bible also contains commands, rules to live by. And so, what Laurie has done, evidently, is to divide life into two categories: the things she can and must do something about, and the things she cannot and must not, for they belong to God (Deuteronomy 29:29).

Mary the mother of Jesus was hep to that division of labor. She "did the next thing" during an awkward wedding moment. Being lousy at making water into wine, she turned to her Son and said, "They have no wine," then went on her merry way to do whatever it was she was able to do herself—folding tablecloths or stalling thirsty guests. Jesus, not one to turn down people who come to Him for help while acknowledging their own helplessness, performed the harder part.

Am I too busy these days? Discouraged over duties left undone? I will preach to myself that there is only one priority—the glory of God—and under that the several duties. When these come flying fast and thick, I will do triage and decide what should come "next." It's God's problem, not mine, to orchestrate the universe and make it all pan out.

Am I fearful? Fear is a focus on phantoms of the theoretical future. But the future is God's, not mine; mine is only the present moment. I am fearful because I'm thinking I have to live the rest of my life. But I don't. I only have to live the next five minutes. To me belongs obedience; to Him belongs outcomes.

We have so far discussed in general terms. But life does not throw up "general terms"; it throws up brutal concreteness: No one's been fed dinner; Aimee is having a sixth-grade crisis; the roof leaks; unread newspapers pile up like an indictment. I will review what I know of God, and do "the next thing." His job is making it all work.

Am I depressed? The concept of doing "the next thing" is just the ticket. Granted, I am far too weak to go on with life—but I can do a load of laundry. And after that I can make the kids breakfast. And after that I can pick up the phone and call a deacon for help on balancing that checkbook. One foot in front of the other: Do "the next thing."

Have I totally messed up my life? Fine, make a list. Here are the things I cannot do: I cannot turn back the clock, I cannot cork up sinful words once spoken, I cannot take back squandered opportunities in career or love. But here are things I can do: I can start from today—with today's time, today's skills, today's health, today's grace. I can do this trusting, even at this stage of the game, that God is still sovereign and still good. And faith, come to think of it, is the whole enchilada.

The lady at the co-op was a well-placed prophet. And said it more succinctly than this writer could.

Copyright © 2005 WORLD Magazine December 17, 2005, Vol. 20, No. 49
http://www.worldmag.com/subscriber/

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Long set-up to the quote of the day

At work we were talking about fundraisers involving bread, and how you could just buy a loaf and rip chunks off it and eat it like that, and the following conversation ensued.

Me: It’s like you’re reverting back to Anglo-Saxons or something.

Les: A loaf of bread in one hand, a drumstick in the other, I’m all set.

Tobin: Dragging your wife around by the hair....

Me: I think you’re going a little too far back.

Tobin: Hey, you have the perfect length of hair for that!

Me: *“watch it” glare*

And here it is, the Quote of the Day:

Tobin: You need to get yourself an Anglo-Saxon!

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Icicle-Bane

Monday night I returned to my apartment to find that it had sprung a leak. This has happened before. In the winter, icicles build up, ice gets on my wall unit air conditioner, and (so the theory goes) this is why water seeps in through the unit into my apartment.

Being the resourceful superhero that I am, I jumped into action. Pink chair to move! Done! Towels! Done! Large bowl to catch water! Done! Shovel! Done!

"Shovel?" you may ask.

"Oh, yes," I may respond.

I covered Apollo to save him from drafts, I put my coat and my boots on to save me from pneumonia (after moving my mat so that I could step right onto that with my wet boots), and I went out onto the balcony, armed with a shovel and only ALMOST shutting the door because of the ancestral legends of the danger of being trapped out on a balcony, especially in winter. I proceeded to knock icicles off the gutter and off the air conditioner. I also shoveled my balcony. I could hear my back muscles the next day. They were asking, "Why were we used for shoveling when we live on the third floor of an apartment building?"

Last night I repeated the icicle-clearing portion of the performance. I forgot to cover Apollo, and it turns out that he was less bothered by the cold than by the sight of me out on the balcony swinging around a shovel and making things fall from the roof, all the while wearing my scary winter coat, which he knows has it in for me.

I think I got hit in the forehead by a piece of icicle. There is just a little spot where it is tender. I am rather afraid of icicles. Often the icicles over the entrances will grow to be--well, they must be at least 8 feet long and a full foot around. I always find myself wondering what would happen if they suddenly fell while I was walking into the building (I don't usually wonder about this while walking out, because I can't see them as easily then). If I ever get hit by a large icicle and die, I hope somebody sues my apartment complex for not maintaining their gutters properly and therefore being guilty of negligent homicide.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Current favorite TV show: Smallville

Current favorite relationship: Clark Kent & Lois Lane

Current favorite quote related to the above:

Lois: I'm glad you made the team, Clark, but why be a conformist? At least with the whole farm boy plaid thing, as lame as it is, it completely belongs to you.

*pause*

Clark: In the future, let's restrict our conversations to "hello" and "goodbye."

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

How do these things happen?

Somehow I became part of the committee referred to below....

Thank you all for your willingness to participate on the web committee. I’m looking forward to working with everyone on developing unity with our web sites and improving our intranet site.

As a team some of our goals will be:

Sharing web information with end users in your departments and others on the committee.
Forming ideas for insidegt.com (intranet site).
Aiding in the design of your department web site.
Creating unity with G&T web sites.

Each web site will be approved by all committee members. I will be meeting with each one of you to get your ideas for your department and Insidegt.com before you meet with the developer.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

A Brief Manifesto

Because I have an opinion for every situation for which I have a quote.

"Turkey Day."

[Pinteresque pause]

I can understand this from people who deny that we have anyone to give thanks to, because we got here by ourselves and we are the captains of our souls and all that.

But from Christians? Are you also too cheap or short-sighted to give thanks? Do you think you're being cute? It isn't cute. Words have meaning, and symbolism matters, and "Happy Turkey Day" reduces the one holiday I have any respect for to the same materialistic level as all the others.

I'm sure nobody I know who uses the phrase has thought about it yet. Or maybe they have and decided that it doesn't matter. Maybe this is what you deal with when you're one of those people who, as my pastor said Sunday night, "wear their feelings right under their skin." Not that I would know what that's like.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

I'm da man!

I just replaced my windshield wiper blades. Alone. With no assistance. Unaided. Turns out it's quite a rush doing something you didn't know you could do.

Dad: "You replaced your headlight, you replaced your wiper blades...what's next, rebuilding your whole engine?"

Could be, Dad. Could be.

Friday, November 18, 2005

Jibblyjibblyjibbly!!!!

This morning, moments after getting in, Amanda yelled, "Suzanne, don't move, it's going to kill you!!!"

"WHAT?!" I said calmly, jerking my feet off the floor and looking around down there.

She pointed at the wall above me. I turned around. We saw the creature from the monstrous unknown!

http://www.whatsthatbug.com/cent.html

Second picture down. Oh, yes. Except larger. And the legs always moving, moving, moving. And (apparently), antennae and beady eyes.

I say "apparently" because Amanda and I saw this thing and screamed, "Boy! We need a boy! TOBIN!!!"

Tobin is the boss. And a quality boss, as this incident shows. He came out and got on a desk. After a closer examination of the beast, he killed it and threw the carcass in the dumpster outside in case it came back from the undead to terrorize us again.

Through all of this, Amanda and I were taking turns hiding behind each other and squealing and shaking our hands/arms because we each had a severe case of the jibblies.

The hideousness of that creature will haunt my dreams....

Saturday, November 12, 2005

"Not daydreams--dreams."

Last night I dreamed I had papers due, but I didn't finish them. Then I dreamed I was driving somewhere and got lost, and that I had left my cell phone somewhere so I couldn't call anyone for directions, and I didn't know how to get back to the place with my cell phone, and I had somewhere I wanted to be and I arrived about 9 hours late, at which time the reason for being there was practically void anyway, and nobody else who was at the place I wanted to be had thought it was important enough to call me, because they didn't think it was important to have me there, and I kept waking up and thinking "it was just a dream" and then I would fall back to sleep and right back into the same dream. It probably didn't help that just before I went to bed last night I had finished watching an episode of Buffy: The Vampire Slayer in which nightmares became reality.

I am so tired...it's going to be an interesting day....

Friday, November 11, 2005

Defending Honor

Sometimes I wish I were married just so that I could defend men from the onslaughts of four out of five of the other women in this office, who are constantly complaining about how men are insensitive, unthinking idiots who are more trouble than they are worth. I want to say, "No, actually, men are just different, and I for one appreciate that very much, and it has been extraordinarily helpful to me in my personal growth, and I love the opportunity to see things from another perspective, and they might not always think enough but generally we think too much," etc., etc. But when I try they kind of look at me like, "Oh, you don't have a man of your own, you don't know."

For the record, I know some really awesome men. So I get really defensive when people make blanket negative statements about men. True, I have been guilty of throwing those around in the past myself, but I have come to realize that I was wrong.

Back off and/or get some perspective, bitter coworkers.

"T" as in "Tom," "V" as in "Victor"

Isn't it interesting how many letters sound the same over the phone? And isn't it interesting to hear what words are chosen to represent them? As soon as the woman I just spoke to said "'T' as in 'Tom,'" I knew exactly what was coming next.

One time we had a customer calling in to request a pattern sample, and the number for it was M621-something, and he said, "'M' as in 'Muratone,'" which is the name of the pattern, and it amazed us all because so few people use the word that the letter represents in order to explain what the letter is. (My syntax has been off all week. I apologize.)

Next time we have to spell out a word over the phone, let's start using words and names that nobody else uses as helpful aids. Imagine how entertained the customer service person you are speaking to will be when you say "'T' as in 'Troglodyte,' 'V' as in 'Vermicious.'"

Thursday, November 10, 2005

"I decided I don't like her. She's too real."

The above was a friend's semi-joking comment after she listened to my copy of Most of It Is True. We both agreed that when we listened to the CD it was hard to fight off the impulse to look around to see if anyone else knew that Rachel Zylstra was reading our minds and then singing about what we were thinking and feeling.

For anyone reading this who doesn't already know who Rachel Zylstra is, hearing that she is a fabulous singer-songwriter doesn't really go far enough. Go to CDBaby.com and order her CD, which is currently out of stock because it's so great, but will hopefully be back in stock for you soon. In the meantime, go to her website (www.rachelzylstra.com) and find out more about her...you can even download songs and song clips.

Go now.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Fine, I guess, unless you're actually asking, in which case the answer is gonna be longer....

"How are you" is possibly the most awkward question in the English language. Certainly the most awkward question likely to be encountered on a regular basis. I hate that question. I want people to clarify.

Example 1: How are you? By which I mean, "Hi, I haven't seen you for a while, but I don't really care about you at all because we weren't ever really friends, so please don't answer the question unless you use a meaningless response like 'Fine.'"

Example 2: How are you? By which I mean, "I am in fact concerned about you, but only on a surface level, so I just want to make sure that no one you know has died lately and/or you aren't two seconds from suicide."

Example 3: How are you? By which I mean, "I care deeply about you as a person and I really want to know, and even if it takes you hours and you start crying while you're trying to explain, I won't be glancing at my watch and wondering why I bothered asking how you are, because I honestly do care a lot."

Without this sort of clarification, there tends to be an awkward pause while I try to decide how the questioner intended the question, and then I answer hesitantly while I ponder whether there is a difference between lying and adhering to social convention.

I need a better response to the question. Any ideas?

Thursday, October 27, 2005

A Place for Dreams

Today a friend from church quoted our pastor: "I'm not going to tell you to follow your dreams, because you are followers of Christ, and you may have to give up your dreams to serve Him."

Now, far be it from me to argue semantics with my pastor (ha! my pastor is the sort who would love to argue semantics with me, or anyone else). But that statement can only be partly true, must only be partly true.

If we're talking, "Suzanne, follow your dream of [insert something Suzanne wants out of this life], and follow it hard, 'cause you deserve it"—clearly that can't be true. But—argh, what am I trying to say....

I think God wants us to dream of Him. That's what I'm trying to say.

I think all the frustrated dreams of my poor pathetic heart are all pointing to Him, all screaming, "Can't you see this earthly thing will not satisfy you like He will," all breaking in my hands like the battered reed. And the greatest frustration of my life is that I keep dreaming of things other than Him, and that hurts me because I want to be so much more than this, so much worthier of Him. I can't be. I can never be worthy of Him. Sometimes I see that for what it is, the amazing measure of His boundless love in granting worthiness to the worthless. But sometimes I really, really just want to be able to bring something to Him. And I know that's me being selfish, and here comes the cycle again.

I want my dreams to be of and for and to Him, always. I want to stop being so consumed with myself and by my own petty interests. I want to escape the shallow longings of this earth and only want what God WANTS me to want. But...does that mean I can't want anything until it's approved by a divine sign? How do I know if what I want is acceptable or if it is an idol? WHERE ARE THE MANUALS FOR THIS????

I don't know what all of that looks like, or what I'm doing here, or if I'm supposed to be doing/thinking/feeling something else and just being as slow as Balaam about it. I guess not being comfortable here can be taken as a good sign, right? Right? Good grief. A hyper-analytical person should not live alone.

Oh, God, I'm so tired of being encased in myself. Show me the things I need to know and lead me to the places I need to be.

Monday, October 24, 2005

A Song

This song has been going through my head almost all morning. Strangely or not, I think it fits how I've been feeling this year pretty well. It's from one of the Fraggle Rock episodes I watched with my parents this weekend (Fraggle Rock being quite possibly the most loved TV show from my childhood), and it is described in the show as "an old Fraggle ballad."


"Here to There"
~~~~~
I'm always here. I'm never there.
I'm never, ever anywhere.
Excepting here, 'cause here is where I'm in.
~
But when I go from here to there,
My here comes with me everywhere,
'Till there is here, and here is where I've been.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

World Withdrawal

I've often wanted to start the world's first Protestant abbey. There is something greatly appealing about the idea of sequestering myself away from everything and everyone. Stay away from people, and they/I won't get hurt. Take a vow of silence, and I won't have to make so many apologies.

Then I remember this annoying passage (Luke 6:32-35):

"If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners in order to receive back the same amount.

"But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men."

So being content when I don't want anything, and trusting God when I know what's going on, and loving people I understand, and not verbally insulting people because I'm not talking to them.... That all turns out to be easy, and hiding away from the confusion and the struggling and the frustration turns out to be escapism.

On the really high plus side, God is kind to ungrateful and evil people. This is extremely consoling. Because without His kindness, our pathetic attempts would just remain pathetic attempts. With it, He gives us the unbelievable kindness of letting some people see Him when they look at us instead of seeing how completely flawed we are on our own.

"In the world, but not of the world." Hard to put into practice, but well worth practicing.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

The Order of Things

I was realizing recently that I check blogs in a particular way. I don't just go straight down my Favorites list. I mix it up, usually starting with the least likely to be updated and moving to the most likely. I think that says something about me as a person. As does the fact that I have seriously considered re-ordering my Favorites list so that I can go straight down. And the fact that I just re-ordered the list so that the Calvin blogs I check are all grouped together, and the blogs from my church friends are all grouped together. Maybe what it says about me is: "Working at a library for three years as a teenager proves to be a formative experience."

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Virtual Hanging Out

As Karl first pointed out, being part of the blogosphere feels like hanging out with people I don't get to see often. It can feel like alienation from people I see every week, under the "right" circumstances, but it is definitely a sort of connection with the people I don't see every week. Which would include most of the people who read this blog.

A long, long time ago in a home far, far away (or so it seems), my father and I were having a pre-college discussion. He said that the next four years would be some of the best and most memorable years in my life, and that I would form connections with the people I met there that would be different from any other connections I would ever form in my life because of 4 years of shared environment and experience. (At the time, of course, I rather thought he was just trying to cheer me up.)

I enjoy having a medium like the internet to keep the connections from existing solely in memory.

Or in more casual terms....

It's been fun hanging out with all of you recently.

Monday, October 10, 2005

Torn

It is difficult to be human, bound to a single place and a single time, when you wish to be in many places at once and to have all the time you want in which to be there.

I like working with my church youth group. I feel I should be working with my church youth group. And there is the (selfish?) side of me that enjoys being enjoyed, that enjoys the sort of popularity of youth leadership.

I also like my friends, and many of them gather in groups on Sunday nights when college group isn't meeting.

*sigh*

I am human. Now I am bound even as I am torn. Someday I won't have to choose from the things I love--they will all be in one place, with one purpose.

The tricky bit is finding the way to live in the meanwhile.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Virtually Friends

I now have 12 blogs I check regularly. Crazy. I'm sure some of you check more than that.

I enjoy reading all of these blogs, but I wonder if all of this blogging really makes us closer. I know that it has in the past actually made me feel alienated--as though people were reading about my life and never feeling a need to enter into it.

Don't assume you know what is going on in someone's life because you are reading their blog. Writing is not called a craft for nothing.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Alligator Shoes

I remember the alligator shoes
and the kid in pink and blue
and Mr. Johnson's hair was terribly messy
and the boy across the aisle
winked at me when I flashed my best smile
you know he dresses so classy
The above is the chorus from a song I used to listen to as a kid. I was thinking about it today because it is still sadly true that it is ridiculously easy for me to get distracted during a worship service. I am distracted by thoughts of the past and by thoughts of the future. I am distracted by plans for lunch and mental lists of chores. I am distracted by wondering if I am forcing myself into some artificial "worship state." This morning I was most distracted by people sitting next to me, behind me, and several rows back. Just their presence in the space was distracting.
Corporate worship would be easier without the "corporate" part of it. If corporate worship meant each person entering their own isolated Worship Box, it would be less distracting.
It also would be less, far less, of what God means it to be. If we can't worship God without worrying about what our neighbors around us think of us or of how we worship, then how can we worship in Christian unity? How can we be the Body of Christ and be segmented by divisive thoughts even as we gather to worship God?
Worship is hard work. It takes a lot of concentration, and a lot of meditation, and a lot of heart preparation. And I am glad for a mediator Who intercepts my prayers, my songs, and my thoughts--from the days when I am disoriented and confused as well as from the days when I am prepared--and presents them all as perfect before God.
When it comes down to it, we are the unified Body of Christ because of Christ Himself. We are free to worship because the Holy Spirit within us gives us the desire to worship.
It is a liberating truth. And a focusing one.

Friday, September 30, 2005

"But soft ye now, the fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered."

I am going to see Hamlet tonight. I have never seen it onstage. I am quite, quite excited. Nay, say rather that my English/theatre-major soul sings within me at the very thought of such sport as this!

*sigh of geeky happiness*

I feel I am learning again (and I may have to learn it over and over throughout my life, but another thing I am learning is not to borrow trouble from the future)...well, I am not learning about how not to insert parenthetical comments. I cling to my parenthetical comments. Once more, then, with feeling....

I feel I am learning again how to be happy as me. ("Somebody who isn't too cool to believe it's okay to be just me.") I am a short geeky excitable wordsmith, and while I make a lousy hot athletic laconic person, I make an unbelievably good short geeky excitable wordsmith. ("I went looking for my ideals outside myself, and found that the things nearest and dearest to my heart were right here.")

Are you ever just really happy to be you? Not because of anything on the outside, but because of the inside? Have you ever been doing something you really enjoy and experienced an almost circular joy in that enjoyment? Do you ever laugh out loud when you are completely alone, or (for example) sit in your car smiling like a fool because it's just you and God, and you are sublimely satisfied with that?

I don't feel like that every day, but I think it's getting better all the time (and so are my mad quoting skills...Trudy: "How do you do that? I like quotes, too, but I can't remember every one I've ever heard."). And when I do feel that way....

Wow.

It's quite the rush.

6.5 more hours until curtain!!!!

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Care a little, why don't you?

It irritates me when people don't make any effort to understand my interests. (It used to irritate me when people didn't share those interests, so I have progressed.) I am far more likely to be VERY interested in something than just casually interested, far more likely to say "I LOVE that!" than "Ah, it's okay, I guess." My interests are a part of me, and if people don't even give them the benefit of a second glance, it bothers me.

For example, I greatly enjoy carpooling. One of the things I like about it is getting to experience the music of others. I like to hear what sort of music comes from their CD/MP3 player, cassette deck, or favorite radio station. (My earliest memory of this sort of thing is being over at the duplex, down in Morgan's room with Karl and Morgan and Cathy, and hearing the new version of "Smooth Criminal," because, as Karl said, "I feel a need to educate you musically every time you come.") I appreciate the opportunity to share in something that in some sense belongs to the other person/people with me. So when I'm driving, and it's my music playing, and somebody says, "No, we're not listening to this song...change it, change it," it feels like a rejection to me. I have to fight to remember that not everyone would see it like that.

It's because I feel this strongly about this issue that I work hard to respect the interests of others, and even to understand why they are interested. In the case of very good friends, I want to be interested, too. Classic example: trying to care about sports. On my own, I do not care. But when presented with a friend who is passionate about hockey/tennis/football/etc., I try to learn about it and to understand why it fascinates them so much.

So I have rather a Martha complex about interests. "I'm making a really good effort here, and you're just ignoring me!" I like a little quid pro quo. Especially when we're talking about something creative, really. I have had conversations in which I talked about writing poetry, or finishing a first draft of a children's book, in which people either say "That's nice," or just gloss over it. And it kind of makes me want to say, "Hello, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I've just shared something personal, something that I'm proud of, and you brushed me off. You've just rejected a part of my soul."

Really, that's what all this is about, isn't it? The desire for people to care about us deeply enough to share their interests with us AND to share ours, too. And I think part of the reason God made so many different kinds of people is to give us the opportunity to see His world in so many different kinds of ways.

So listen to your friends' strange music, and watch their war movies, and be intrigued by their creative expression. It will be a blessing for you and for them.

Monday, September 26, 2005

On Rest and How Little I Do It Properly

I shocked my coworkers today by telling them that I had taken all weekend to drink lots of fluids, sleep, and lie on the couch watching movies (grand total: 6). All of this after determining that my "allergy attack" was in fact a cold at about 3:30 on Friday afternoon. This was shocking to them because usually I carry on as normal until about two weeks after I should have gone to see a doctor.

I have difficulty resting. Not procrastinating—at procrastinating, I'm a Viking. But I am not stellar at the kind of resting where I am getting the proper amount of sleep or recuperating from illness. This despite the facts that A) I feel better about life, the universe, and everything after I've had a good night's sleep, B) I recover from illness faster when I rest, and C) it's not as though I am not resting because I am doing something of earth-shaking importance. Usually I'm instant messenging or sitting in somebody else's living room all night. I love doing these things, because I love being with and talking to my friends. I just need to learn how to manage my time so that I can do that AND sleep.

Which reminds me of a quote: "I don't sleep. I hate those little slices of death." ~~ Arnie Saknussan, where "Saknussan" is probably spelled very inaccurately, and whose first name probably isn't Arnie, from the movie that is definitely called Journey to the Center of the Earth

Not that I think sleep is a slice of death. But it sure seems like a waste of time, some days.

Friday, September 23, 2005

There is a reason all those online quizzes say I'm Hermione Granger....

I majored in English and theatre at Calvin. This would seem to indicate that my gifts lie in the realm of language and communication, an indication that has been substantiated in various ways over the years since Calvin. For someone who specializes in communication and presentation, though, I get into some very socially awkward situations. Ten minutes after I walk away from one of these situations, I come up with brilliant things I could have said, meaningful glances I could have given, or clever ways to have avoided the situation in the first place. When I'm in the situation, however, I am a bibbling idiot. (Or at least I feel like one...I am not always sure how others perceive me.)

One of the things I have realized that I enjoy about English and theatre is their predictability. If you are reading a book, your intuitions on characters and major plot points may quite often prove to be accurate. If you are acting from a script, you are using lines that someone else laid down for you. In books and plays, you can determine motivations by careful reading/viewing. Just by paying attention, you can know what the situation is and why. (Unless, I suppose, you are a fan of absurdist theatre. But even absurdist theatre is more comprehensible than some real people I have encountered.) I think most of my difficulties in dealing with people in general is that I come at them from this rather academic viewpoint—if we pay careful attention, we can know [fill in the blank].

Real life is not like books or plays. It can be horribly frustrating.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Now Open to the Public

I wanted to join in on the CTC blog ring. So. Here I am on the CTC blog ring. Allow me to make a few introductory remarks.

First off, you will note that my user name is Thursday. This is a reference to the fantastic Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforde. It's sort of a Hitchhiker's Guide for the literature-obsessed. You should all give it a try, if you haven't already. The first book in the series is The Eyre Affair.

Secondly, this is a blog, and introductory remarks don't have to take up much space at all. This whole post was just a not-so-elaborate ruse to promote the works of Jasper Fforde.