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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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....

Christmas gift ideas for the linguist who has everything

http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/086516472X/ref=sib_dp_pt/104-4397925-5586330#reader-page

http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/0865164207/ref=sib_dp_pt/104-9031017-5439150#reader-link

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0865165556/104-9031017-5439150?v=glance&n=283155&%5Fencoding=UTF8&v=glance

"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....

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.'"

"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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.