I don't think I can be the only one to experience this.... Today I kept feeling that I wanted to be writing something, but that I didn't know what to write. I wrote 800-900 words (total) on a few separate things, just to be writing, but I wasn't really as into them as I've been sometimes. Even this post is feeling a little forced.
Revolutionary thought: writing is craft, and as such writing can be done even if it doesn't feel right.
Still, I'm feeling a strong need/desire for something that's hovering on the edge of my consciousness, and it's driving me crazy that I can't put it into words and make sense of it. Is this thing fiction? Is it non-fiction? Is it just an item I've left off one of my lists of things to do?
I get this feeling fairly often, actually. Fallout from something that wants doing but remains undone. Maybe it isn't even writer's blues at all. Maybe I just need to clean my bathtub.
Ah, well. While I'm trying to figure all that out, I guess can cross "new blog post" off my mental to-do list....
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
A future full of promise, a heart full of love; life full of God's blessings from heaven above.
See? Writing a wedding card isn't (as we say at my office) rocket surgery. There would be occupational hazards, I guess—spontaneous stomach sickness, eyestrain from too much rolling, brain turning to goo and draining out of your ears.
Wedding cards are the worst cards to shop for. Most feature sappy and/or sanctimonious sentiments, often phrased in truly atrocious "poetry" that pretends to rhyme but doesn't quite make it (see self-created example above, then take it down several levels).
Wedding cards are full of the rampant cultural fantasy that marriage is your ticket to a magical fairyland where bad things do not happen. From what I've heard, real marriages are a lot more like real life: you love people, but they get on your nerves sometimes; you love people, but you let them down sometimes. It can be fun and enriching, but it can also be confusing and frustrating.
I guess there may not be much of a market for wedding cards that say, "Congratulations as you embark on your journey together. Prepare for sharp turns, bad weather, and ambushes." So then why can't some of the cards be funny? Marriage is a serious choice, yes, but I don't think it has to be taken Quite So Seriously. Comedy, after all, rises most frequently from the unexpected, and there is something inherently ludicrous—and I mean that word in its joyful sense—in the intersection of male and female. (Praise be to the God who specializes in the joining of disparate elements!)
I bought two wedding cards today. They will probably end up either in a landfill or in the back corner of a closet.
I think I'm okay with that.
Wedding cards are the worst cards to shop for. Most feature sappy and/or sanctimonious sentiments, often phrased in truly atrocious "poetry" that pretends to rhyme but doesn't quite make it (see self-created example above, then take it down several levels).
Wedding cards are full of the rampant cultural fantasy that marriage is your ticket to a magical fairyland where bad things do not happen. From what I've heard, real marriages are a lot more like real life: you love people, but they get on your nerves sometimes; you love people, but you let them down sometimes. It can be fun and enriching, but it can also be confusing and frustrating.
I guess there may not be much of a market for wedding cards that say, "Congratulations as you embark on your journey together. Prepare for sharp turns, bad weather, and ambushes." So then why can't some of the cards be funny? Marriage is a serious choice, yes, but I don't think it has to be taken Quite So Seriously. Comedy, after all, rises most frequently from the unexpected, and there is something inherently ludicrous—and I mean that word in its joyful sense—in the intersection of male and female. (Praise be to the God who specializes in the joining of disparate elements!)
I bought two wedding cards today. They will probably end up either in a landfill or in the back corner of a closet.
I think I'm okay with that.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
You might be overdoing it if...
...your story includes a sentence like "Kate sighed and closed her hazel orbs."
Just call them "eyes." As soon as you use the word "orbs" to refer to eyes you've crossed over into melodrama, or something like it. Maybe just bad writing.
Also, don't bother to call out eye color at every turn. In real life, people don't usually pay that much attention to eye color. At least this sentence didn't talk about some character's "chocolate brown eyes," which is a huge warning sign that you have stumbled across a really sappy story. Personally, I would be weirded out if somebody looked at my eyes and thought about food. Who really ever wants to hear, "I'm so attracted to you...and also, your eyes remind me of chocolate...which kind of makes me hungry, now that I think of it"? When people look into my eyes, I would much rather they think about eyes.
This has been a public service announcement to any and all aspiring authors. Thank you.
Just call them "eyes." As soon as you use the word "orbs" to refer to eyes you've crossed over into melodrama, or something like it. Maybe just bad writing.
Also, don't bother to call out eye color at every turn. In real life, people don't usually pay that much attention to eye color. At least this sentence didn't talk about some character's "chocolate brown eyes," which is a huge warning sign that you have stumbled across a really sappy story. Personally, I would be weirded out if somebody looked at my eyes and thought about food. Who really ever wants to hear, "I'm so attracted to you...and also, your eyes remind me of chocolate...which kind of makes me hungry, now that I think of it"? When people look into my eyes, I would much rather they think about eyes.
This has been a public service announcement to any and all aspiring authors. Thank you.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Foxhole Pagan
I say I believe in predestination and election, and I do. But when things get a little shaky, I start rationalizing. Maybe I messed up somewhere along the line, and that's why [fill in the blank]. Maybe I should be there instead of here, do this instead of that. Maybe my actions are of such cosmic importance that they can derail God's grander plans.
It looks ridiculous, doesn't it, printed out like that?
Tomorrow I will be going on my first outing with my church's newly incarnated Adopt-A-Block ministry. We'll be going door-to-door in the same 12 apartments every other week for the next 6 months, getting to know people, seeing how we can help them, living the Gospel before speaking it.
That's the plan, anyway. The thing is, the Gospel in my life is pretty messy. It's one thing to swoop in with carefully crafted words, making Jesus sound like the beautiful solution to all problems. But what about the fact that after 28 years of walking, I still trip over a short fuse and a low tolerance for the faults of others? What about the fear that speaking truth will lead to the unpleasantness of being disliked? What about the terror that somehow I will singlehandedly turn people away from this God I profess? If I really believed this stuff, really loved this Person, wouldn't my life and witness be...what? Neat? Simple? Easy?
I was thinking this morning of my motives for sharing God with others, and of how incredibly mixed they are, and these words from Paul came to mind: "What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed; and in this I rejoice." (Philippians 1:18)
And I was thinking just now of my incredible smallness, and the words of a more recent saint, Sara Groves, came to mind: "What do I know?" Her song counters the question "what" with "Who"--"from what I know of Him...."
I am scared of my own weakness. I will just have to rest in His strength. Which is not a triumphant declaration of faith so much as my only possible option.
After all, when it comes down to it, being as important as I tend to think I am is pretty horrifying.
It looks ridiculous, doesn't it, printed out like that?
Tomorrow I will be going on my first outing with my church's newly incarnated Adopt-A-Block ministry. We'll be going door-to-door in the same 12 apartments every other week for the next 6 months, getting to know people, seeing how we can help them, living the Gospel before speaking it.
That's the plan, anyway. The thing is, the Gospel in my life is pretty messy. It's one thing to swoop in with carefully crafted words, making Jesus sound like the beautiful solution to all problems. But what about the fact that after 28 years of walking, I still trip over a short fuse and a low tolerance for the faults of others? What about the fear that speaking truth will lead to the unpleasantness of being disliked? What about the terror that somehow I will singlehandedly turn people away from this God I profess? If I really believed this stuff, really loved this Person, wouldn't my life and witness be...what? Neat? Simple? Easy?
I was thinking this morning of my motives for sharing God with others, and of how incredibly mixed they are, and these words from Paul came to mind: "What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed; and in this I rejoice." (Philippians 1:18)
And I was thinking just now of my incredible smallness, and the words of a more recent saint, Sara Groves, came to mind: "What do I know?" Her song counters the question "what" with "Who"--"from what I know of Him...."
I am scared of my own weakness. I will just have to rest in His strength. Which is not a triumphant declaration of faith so much as my only possible option.
After all, when it comes down to it, being as important as I tend to think I am is pretty horrifying.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Top Three Star Trek Inventions I Wish Really Existed (in no particular order)
Transporters
Avoid construction; avoid long, boring solo drives…hey, avoid driving altogether. Far-flung family and friends become quickly and easily accessible.
Medical Tricorders
Instant, accurate diagnosis of most common ailments and injuries (such as, in a completely random example, ankle pain). Since medical tricorders can be difficult to read sometimes, I would settle for an LMH (Long-term Medical Hologram).
Food Replicators
No time-consuming cooking! Virtually no clean up! And easy access to well-rounded, healthy meals based on the recommendations of your medical tricorder (or LMH).
Avoid construction; avoid long, boring solo drives…hey, avoid driving altogether. Far-flung family and friends become quickly and easily accessible.
Medical Tricorders
Instant, accurate diagnosis of most common ailments and injuries (such as, in a completely random example, ankle pain). Since medical tricorders can be difficult to read sometimes, I would settle for an LMH (Long-term Medical Hologram).
Food Replicators
No time-consuming cooking! Virtually no clean up! And easy access to well-rounded, healthy meals based on the recommendations of your medical tricorder (or LMH).
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Lost
I need to organize better. At last count, I've lost several bills (found just past the due date), at least $20, a Metro ticket, three rings, one necklace, a CD, and an action figure. All within the last 25 years.
I have never taken the notion of losing things well. I was the kid having nightmares about misplacing library books. I had nightmares along the same vein about raging fires heading towards my house while I scrambled to save all of my dearest possessions (and there were a lot). I used to take all of my favorite toys (and there were a lot) into the basement during tornado warnings.
Now there are times when I imagine how much less clutter there would be if a fire did hit my place (sometime when Apollo and I were both gone, of course). How much less stuff I could get by with, really. And yet still, the memory of each and every lost possession I listed in the first paragraphs rankles, standing for a lapse of judgment and vigilance. Drop your guard for a second and something you take for granted is gone.
I know this is one more manifestation of my tendency to carry the world on my shoulders. "You've lost something, and it's all your fault; you could have paid more attention, you utterly horrible person; why should anybody trust you with anything if you can't take care of it?" And I know I have way too much stuff, and that if I kept better organized with the things I have they would be less likely to become the things I had. But my heart aches over the lost things, anyway.
The parable of the missing coin shows quite a knowledge of people.
I have never taken the notion of losing things well. I was the kid having nightmares about misplacing library books. I had nightmares along the same vein about raging fires heading towards my house while I scrambled to save all of my dearest possessions (and there were a lot). I used to take all of my favorite toys (and there were a lot) into the basement during tornado warnings.
Now there are times when I imagine how much less clutter there would be if a fire did hit my place (sometime when Apollo and I were both gone, of course). How much less stuff I could get by with, really. And yet still, the memory of each and every lost possession I listed in the first paragraphs rankles, standing for a lapse of judgment and vigilance. Drop your guard for a second and something you take for granted is gone.
I know this is one more manifestation of my tendency to carry the world on my shoulders. "You've lost something, and it's all your fault; you could have paid more attention, you utterly horrible person; why should anybody trust you with anything if you can't take care of it?" And I know I have way too much stuff, and that if I kept better organized with the things I have they would be less likely to become the things I had. But my heart aches over the lost things, anyway.
The parable of the missing coin shows quite a knowledge of people.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Greatest Hits
Kerri has already explained this, but for those of you who don't read both our blogs, I'm going to explain it again.
At some point during our travels, Angie, Kerri, and I (Lost fans all) came up with the idea of doing a European tour "greatest hits" list. I realized soon after voicing how cool I thought this idea was that I am not the sort of person who finds it easy to narrow anything down that far. (The other girls took 400-600 pictures. I took over 1200. I have been through them three times to narrow them down to a highlights reel and still have 870.)
So I am copping out by doing my five top fives.
Five Favorite Sights with Fictional Associations
5. Lacock Abbey, where many scenes of Hogwarts were filmed.
4. The back of the house from The Sound of Music, a building interesting enough in its own right for Kerri and I to start snapping pictures of it before the guide told us it was part of the tour.
3. Balliol College, alma mater of the beloved Lord Peter Wimsey. It was closed to visitors but open to those with a special request, and I fortunately know a real live person who is an alumnus, so I got to go in and look around and take pictures for both of us. (Thanks, Ken!)
2. The bust of Mr. Darcy at Chatsworth, the house used as Pemberly in the Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice.
1. The Sherlock Holmes museum, fully furnished in classic Victorian style and dripping with Holmes ambience, down to the in-character actor (or WAS he an actor?) who told the curious Angie he had worked there for over a hundred years. Also features some rather eerie waxworks (sorry, "eerie waxworks" is redundant).
Five Nicest People (or groups of people)
5. The woman at the hotel in Salzburg who was so helpful she called the tour company for us before we asked.
4. The people on the bus to Oxford who volunteered all sorts of information. (Elderly woman: "This is the famous Maudlin Bridge." Elderly man next to her: "Spelled 'Magdalen.'"; Woman sitting behind us who overheard us what stop we should pick: "Just get off the bus when I do. [a moment later] Now!")
3. The businessmen from India who took turns sitting with us on an overcrowded train from Vienna to Salzburg. One of them almost mistook us for English because our vowels weren't as drawn out as he expected from Americans.
2. The Spanish guy at the internet café who asked Kerri for help on his résumé. She was referring him to me just as I was springing forward, glad to be doing something besides waiting for a computer. I gave him helpful advice such as "You don't want to have a smiley face in your purpose statement," and then as he left I got a big grin and two thumbs up in exchange for a simple "Bueno suerte."
1. Ahmed and his older brother, the pair in front of us in line for the Eiffel Tower. They made standing in line for 45 minutes fun, and we were such pals by the time we got up to the ticket counter that they just went to the second level, as we were doing, instead of all the way up to the third, as they had been planning. Later we ran into them on the street, and so had the fun of meeting someone we knew in Paris.
Five Oddest or Most Unhelpful People (or groups)
5. The French (all stereotypes need perpetuating, right?).
4. The people of Austria were odd in that we were seemingly invisible to them. They would walk right into us, or not move for us. One time Angie dropped a suitcase on somebody's foot (accidentally). I still don't think the person reacted.
3. The UK immigration blokes were odd, too. One of them looked at me as though I might be a terrorist after I split off from my group to get into a shorter queue (that's English for "line") and the other seemed suspicious that an engineer (Kerri) and a governess (Angie) could be friends.
2. A man from the hotel in Paris sold us to another hotel after running us through the streets with no help beyond taking what was obviously the smallest and lightest piece of luggage from the person best equipped to deal with both her luggage AND cobblestone streets.
1. Two out of four men we talked to at our last hotel were clueless, incompetent, and seemingly not particularly concerned with our specific needs. (Yes, we have an extra person; no, we don't want to pay for a whole other room. Yes, we do want sheets for the couch; no, we don't care if that's good for your job, we just want to sleep.)
Five Unexpected Things
5. Laughing hysterically with Angie over some slight picking on Kerri.
4. Being in Leicester Square during the world premiere of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
3. Swaying all day (and into the next night) after our sleeper train ride from Salzburg to Paris.
2. Tasting an anchovy.
1. Being thrown totally off schedule due to a major traffic jam and finding myself thinking calmly, "We did our best, and it didn't work, and God has something else planned for us, so it's all okay."
Five Things That Were Planned That I Had Never Done Before
5. Asked somebody next to me on a plane to switch seats with a friend of mine.
4. Used an ATM.
3. Checked into and out of hotels.
2. Spent the night on a sleeper train.
1. Drove on the left side of the road, on the right side of the car (the latter was more confusing).
At some point during our travels, Angie, Kerri, and I (Lost fans all) came up with the idea of doing a European tour "greatest hits" list. I realized soon after voicing how cool I thought this idea was that I am not the sort of person who finds it easy to narrow anything down that far. (The other girls took 400-600 pictures. I took over 1200. I have been through them three times to narrow them down to a highlights reel and still have 870.)
So I am copping out by doing my five top fives.
Five Favorite Sights with Fictional Associations
5. Lacock Abbey, where many scenes of Hogwarts were filmed.
4. The back of the house from The Sound of Music, a building interesting enough in its own right for Kerri and I to start snapping pictures of it before the guide told us it was part of the tour.
3. Balliol College, alma mater of the beloved Lord Peter Wimsey. It was closed to visitors but open to those with a special request, and I fortunately know a real live person who is an alumnus, so I got to go in and look around and take pictures for both of us. (Thanks, Ken!)
2. The bust of Mr. Darcy at Chatsworth, the house used as Pemberly in the Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice.
1. The Sherlock Holmes museum, fully furnished in classic Victorian style and dripping with Holmes ambience, down to the in-character actor (or WAS he an actor?) who told the curious Angie he had worked there for over a hundred years. Also features some rather eerie waxworks (sorry, "eerie waxworks" is redundant).
Five Nicest People (or groups of people)
5. The woman at the hotel in Salzburg who was so helpful she called the tour company for us before we asked.
4. The people on the bus to Oxford who volunteered all sorts of information. (Elderly woman: "This is the famous Maudlin Bridge." Elderly man next to her: "Spelled 'Magdalen.'"; Woman sitting behind us who overheard us what stop we should pick: "Just get off the bus when I do. [a moment later] Now!")
3. The businessmen from India who took turns sitting with us on an overcrowded train from Vienna to Salzburg. One of them almost mistook us for English because our vowels weren't as drawn out as he expected from Americans.
2. The Spanish guy at the internet café who asked Kerri for help on his résumé. She was referring him to me just as I was springing forward, glad to be doing something besides waiting for a computer. I gave him helpful advice such as "You don't want to have a smiley face in your purpose statement," and then as he left I got a big grin and two thumbs up in exchange for a simple "Bueno suerte."
1. Ahmed and his older brother, the pair in front of us in line for the Eiffel Tower. They made standing in line for 45 minutes fun, and we were such pals by the time we got up to the ticket counter that they just went to the second level, as we were doing, instead of all the way up to the third, as they had been planning. Later we ran into them on the street, and so had the fun of meeting someone we knew in Paris.
Five Oddest or Most Unhelpful People (or groups)
5. The French (all stereotypes need perpetuating, right?).
4. The people of Austria were odd in that we were seemingly invisible to them. They would walk right into us, or not move for us. One time Angie dropped a suitcase on somebody's foot (accidentally). I still don't think the person reacted.
3. The UK immigration blokes were odd, too. One of them looked at me as though I might be a terrorist after I split off from my group to get into a shorter queue (that's English for "line") and the other seemed suspicious that an engineer (Kerri) and a governess (Angie) could be friends.
2. A man from the hotel in Paris sold us to another hotel after running us through the streets with no help beyond taking what was obviously the smallest and lightest piece of luggage from the person best equipped to deal with both her luggage AND cobblestone streets.
1. Two out of four men we talked to at our last hotel were clueless, incompetent, and seemingly not particularly concerned with our specific needs. (Yes, we have an extra person; no, we don't want to pay for a whole other room. Yes, we do want sheets for the couch; no, we don't care if that's good for your job, we just want to sleep.)
Five Unexpected Things
5. Laughing hysterically with Angie over some slight picking on Kerri.
4. Being in Leicester Square during the world premiere of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
3. Swaying all day (and into the next night) after our sleeper train ride from Salzburg to Paris.
2. Tasting an anchovy.
1. Being thrown totally off schedule due to a major traffic jam and finding myself thinking calmly, "We did our best, and it didn't work, and God has something else planned for us, so it's all okay."
Five Things That Were Planned That I Had Never Done Before
5. Asked somebody next to me on a plane to switch seats with a friend of mine.
4. Used an ATM.
3. Checked into and out of hotels.
2. Spent the night on a sleeper train.
1. Drove on the left side of the road, on the right side of the car (the latter was more confusing).
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Ten Best Things About Being Back Home
(in no particular order)
- My parents meeting me at the airport (a total surprise to me)
- Welcome home voicemail
- My own shower
- My own bed
- A cranky-yet-pleased Apollo
- No more exchange rate math
- No more lugging everything I own on the whole continent around with me
- Cell phone service
- Easy and convenient access to drinking water
- Driver's wheel on the left side
Trip details forthcoming....
Friday, June 22, 2007
Are you kidding me?
I don't know which is the most surreal....
- My apartment is the cleanest it has been in weeks. Possibly months.
- I am totally packed and almost completely ready (physically) for my mega-trip.
- The mere fact that this trip is going to happen.
I feel very small and young. Definitely not the sort of person to be heading off on her own for one leg of a trip before meeting up with another person only slightly older than myself for the second leg, and ANOTHER person only slightly older than both of the first two of us for the majority of the trip.
I am 28. We have put a lot of planning into this. We will have fun.
I'm feeling bad about leaving my bird for 12 days, but he will be fine.
I already miss my parents and my brother (Jeremiah will be in Mexico next week; we're world travelers), but it isn't like they live in the same town as I do. It is sort of like we talk every day, though, so that will be different. No cell phone and no internet for 12 days. It's like a fast.
My next post will have pictures from Europe. How crazy is that?
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Mainly on the plains?
In Spain, maybe. I was checking the weather report for while we're in Europe and almost EVERY DAY shows a good chance of some form of precipitation.
This made me laugh. I am glad I bought a travel umbrella and a poncho.
This made me laugh. I am glad I bought a travel umbrella and a poncho.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
A Song for Me and My Dad
I heard part of a much-loved Paul Simon song called "Father and Daughter" on my way home tonight. It's a song about a father who is always there for his daughter, and who looks out for her, and who believes in her. So even though it was me and not my dad who first heard this song, I still kind of think of it as our song, because it reminds me of him. He always tells me I can handle things on my own, but is always ready to offer advice and assistance when I ask him for it, and I have never doubted that the chorus of this song is true of my dad, and that the vice versa of that line is true, too.
I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
Who loved his daughter more than I love you
Happy Father's Day, Dad! Thanks for loving me and showing it in a bazillion different ways. I love you, too.
Next week in Vienna
Bizarre, yet true: if all goes as we've planned, next week Kerri and Angie and I will be in Vienna, probably taking pictures of feet. ;) Several months of frantic planning (okay, frantic mostly on my part), of research, of collecting possessions and possible luggage choices into little piles, and it's practically here.
This will be the first major trip I've taken without an adult. Visiting Rachel in Manhattan didn't count. Going to Austin for Sabrina's wedding didn't count. Visiting Kerri in Denver didn't count. Those were Friendly Visits. This is a Major Vacation, with hotels and trains and foreign currency and languages other than English. Not that I'm anxious.
Ha ha! No, seriously, I am indeed worried about this trip. I'm worried about the planes. I'm worried about the trains. I'm worried about the automobiles. I'm worried about John Candy...oh, wait...sorry, got on the wrong track. I'm worried about missing important deadlines. I'm worried I've set too many deadlines and that I won't enjoy the trip. I'm worried I'll show up at church in jeans and get dirty looks.
This morning the Sunday School teacher was talking about the relation of fear and faith. He talked about holy reverence, and then he said something like, "But it's also okay to hold on to God because you're so scared about doing anything else." Which is what, in the practical realm, I am doing for this trip. And I know that He has surprises there for me, and even if they're scary at the time, they will end up being really great things.
So, enough with what I'm scared about. I'm not just scared, I'm excited, too. (Maybe all great endeavors come with both.) I'm excited about spending a week with Kerri, a kindred spirit who enjoys most of the same things I do and can also calm me down when I'm getting too worked up about something. I'm excited about seeing places in England I've never seen before. I'm excited about being able to say that I drove successfully on the wrong...I mean, left side of the road. I'm excited about taking trains, especially the sleeper car between Salzburg and Vienna. I'm excited that my packing is pretty much done. I'm excited about my beautiful little trip journal that Lisa bought for me. I'm excited that I'm up on the church prayer list for this Friday, the day before I leave, and that church snacks for adults are ending this June so I won't have to arrange someone to bring cookies in for me when I'm gone. I'm excited about all the other "small" providences that I will witness over the course of the next several weeks.
Next Sunday, I'll be in Vienna. Wow.
This will be the first major trip I've taken without an adult. Visiting Rachel in Manhattan didn't count. Going to Austin for Sabrina's wedding didn't count. Visiting Kerri in Denver didn't count. Those were Friendly Visits. This is a Major Vacation, with hotels and trains and foreign currency and languages other than English. Not that I'm anxious.
Ha ha! No, seriously, I am indeed worried about this trip. I'm worried about the planes. I'm worried about the trains. I'm worried about the automobiles. I'm worried about John Candy...oh, wait...sorry, got on the wrong track. I'm worried about missing important deadlines. I'm worried I've set too many deadlines and that I won't enjoy the trip. I'm worried I'll show up at church in jeans and get dirty looks.
This morning the Sunday School teacher was talking about the relation of fear and faith. He talked about holy reverence, and then he said something like, "But it's also okay to hold on to God because you're so scared about doing anything else." Which is what, in the practical realm, I am doing for this trip. And I know that He has surprises there for me, and even if they're scary at the time, they will end up being really great things.
So, enough with what I'm scared about. I'm not just scared, I'm excited, too. (Maybe all great endeavors come with both.) I'm excited about spending a week with Kerri, a kindred spirit who enjoys most of the same things I do and can also calm me down when I'm getting too worked up about something. I'm excited about seeing places in England I've never seen before. I'm excited about being able to say that I drove successfully on the wrong...I mean, left side of the road. I'm excited about taking trains, especially the sleeper car between Salzburg and Vienna. I'm excited that my packing is pretty much done. I'm excited about my beautiful little trip journal that Lisa bought for me. I'm excited that I'm up on the church prayer list for this Friday, the day before I leave, and that church snacks for adults are ending this June so I won't have to arrange someone to bring cookies in for me when I'm gone. I'm excited about all the other "small" providences that I will witness over the course of the next several weeks.
Next Sunday, I'll be in Vienna. Wow.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
My Life's Soundtrack, V.3
Jeremiah posted this on his page, and so now I'm posting it. A different version on almost every page blog I have. Because it was That Fun the first time.
RULES:
1. Open your music library
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every category, type the song that's playing
5. When you go the next category, press the next button (duh)
opening theme:
It’s Nice To Be With You – The Monkees
waking up:
Who Will Buy – from Oliver!
first day at school:
There’s a New Sound - Scooter (the Muppet)
shopping:
Spooky – The Classics IV
hanging with friends:
Sundays in September – Ruth’s Hat
first kiss:
Seven Wonders – Nickel Creek (not as good a song for this category as the title may imply)
birthday:
I Will Always Love You – Whitney Houston (how could you ever hate birthdays?)
party scene:
Sue Me – from Guys and Dolls
falling in love:
Trashin’ the Camp – Phil Collins & N’Sync
fight song:
The Circle of Life – from The Lion King, London cast version
breaking up:
By His Wounds – Wes King
prom:
Lady of Spain – The Amazing Marvin Suggs and His Muppaphone Players
college:
Getting Into You – Reliant K
life:
Holding Out for a Hero – Frou Frou
mental breakdown:
How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) – James Taylor
driving:
I’ve Got the World on a String – James Darren
flashback:
Achy Breaky Heart – The Chipmunks (quite a flashback band, truly)
getting back together:
He Lives In You - from The Lion King, London cast version
wedding:
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun – The Chippettes
honeymoon:
Never Say Die – Dixie Chicks
birth of child:
Delhi.com – from Monsoon Wedding
final battle:
The Longest Time – Billy Joel
death scene:
Suzy Q – Creedence Clearwater Revival
funeral song:
Into This Town – Rachel Zylstra
end credits:
Be Prepared - from The Lion King, London cast version
RULES:
1. Open your music library
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every category, type the song that's playing
5. When you go the next category, press the next button (duh)
opening theme:
It’s Nice To Be With You – The Monkees
waking up:
Who Will Buy – from Oliver!
first day at school:
There’s a New Sound - Scooter (the Muppet)
shopping:
Spooky – The Classics IV
hanging with friends:
Sundays in September – Ruth’s Hat
first kiss:
Seven Wonders – Nickel Creek (not as good a song for this category as the title may imply)
birthday:
I Will Always Love You – Whitney Houston (how could you ever hate birthdays?)
party scene:
Sue Me – from Guys and Dolls
falling in love:
Trashin’ the Camp – Phil Collins & N’Sync
fight song:
The Circle of Life – from The Lion King, London cast version
breaking up:
By His Wounds – Wes King
prom:
Lady of Spain – The Amazing Marvin Suggs and His Muppaphone Players
college:
Getting Into You – Reliant K
life:
Holding Out for a Hero – Frou Frou
mental breakdown:
How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) – James Taylor
driving:
I’ve Got the World on a String – James Darren
flashback:
Achy Breaky Heart – The Chipmunks (quite a flashback band, truly)
getting back together:
He Lives In You - from The Lion King, London cast version
wedding:
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun – The Chippettes
honeymoon:
Never Say Die – Dixie Chicks
birth of child:
Delhi.com – from Monsoon Wedding
final battle:
The Longest Time – Billy Joel
death scene:
Suzy Q – Creedence Clearwater Revival
funeral song:
Into This Town – Rachel Zylstra
end credits:
Be Prepared - from The Lion King, London cast version
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Why is it...
...that you can be thoroughly absorbed in feeding every wretched sensation and indulging every evil impulse you have, knowing full well that you'll regret it the next day if not sooner, and yet you just keep going? And go ahead and change all those pronouns to "I," because of course that's where I'm really going with this.
Is getting to feel so bloody sorry for myself ever worth the morning after? No. Do I resent that? Yes.
*sigh*
(I believe eternal life is a free gift from God, but I don't want to get to heaven and have anybody surprised to see me there. "You were a Christian all this time? For real? It was so hard to tell....")
Over the past year or so it seems I've lost an awful lot of certainty. This is good in that a lot of arrogance was simmering (and sometimes boiling) in that certainty. But it's kind of scary, too. My opinions seem, mostly, either unimportant outside of myself or Viciously Important. My motivations barely ever seem as pure as I used to think they were. I act with at least three or four different levels of intention, and what's that about?
I've been thinking that this is a new phase that will last forever, but really that is probably a ridiculous idea. Maybe what this is instead is a time of getting used to seeing in a new way, being freed from many a fancy and many a foolish notion.
Or as Burns was getting at, before you can de-louse, you have to know the lice are there.
Is getting to feel so bloody sorry for myself ever worth the morning after? No. Do I resent that? Yes.
*sigh*
(I believe eternal life is a free gift from God, but I don't want to get to heaven and have anybody surprised to see me there. "You were a Christian all this time? For real? It was so hard to tell....")
Over the past year or so it seems I've lost an awful lot of certainty. This is good in that a lot of arrogance was simmering (and sometimes boiling) in that certainty. But it's kind of scary, too. My opinions seem, mostly, either unimportant outside of myself or Viciously Important. My motivations barely ever seem as pure as I used to think they were. I act with at least three or four different levels of intention, and what's that about?
I've been thinking that this is a new phase that will last forever, but really that is probably a ridiculous idea. Maybe what this is instead is a time of getting used to seeing in a new way, being freed from many a fancy and many a foolish notion.
Or as Burns was getting at, before you can de-louse, you have to know the lice are there.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Self-sufficiency
Saturday I got an email about weird activity on a credit card. Since I did in fact have weird activity on that card, and since I have been increasingly frustrated with a number of things, and since I wasn't thinking, I clicked the link and GAVE OUT MY PERSONAL INFORMATION. Contact info, Social Security number...great. I'm an idiot. How many times have I warned people about telltale signs, and I fell for this like a total internet newbie. At least I wised up before they got my credit card number, too.
I found a list of recommended actions to take after you give out personal information, and it's long. So it can join my many other long lists of Things That Need Doing.
I am so sick of taking care of myself. I want a break. I want to go back to when my parents handled everything. I feel like the only person looking out for me is me, and I know that isn't true, which hasn't yet been making it feel better. And then there's the superstitious part of me that thinks that God is going to have my identity stolen to prove a point because I have been so unforgivably self-sufficient. And then there's the part of me that is still really, really fighting to take care of myself, because I don't trust anybody else to do it properly.
Clearly I can't do it properly either. Great.
I found a list of recommended actions to take after you give out personal information, and it's long. So it can join my many other long lists of Things That Need Doing.
I am so sick of taking care of myself. I want a break. I want to go back to when my parents handled everything. I feel like the only person looking out for me is me, and I know that isn't true, which hasn't yet been making it feel better. And then there's the superstitious part of me that thinks that God is going to have my identity stolen to prove a point because I have been so unforgivably self-sufficient. And then there's the part of me that is still really, really fighting to take care of myself, because I don't trust anybody else to do it properly.
Clearly I can't do it properly either. Great.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Finger Length Predicts SAT Performance
According to an article I found on Yahoo! News, having a ring finger that is longer than your index finger (or at least long compared to your index finger) indicated a higher exposure to testosterone in the womb. It is also supposed to indicate that you have good mathematical and spatial skills.
Naturally, since reading this article I've been staring at my hands for an inordinate amount of time. My ring and index fingers are just about level with each other. BUT a careful measurement with my tape measure (something I just thought of now) shows that my ring fingers are 1/16" longer than my index fingers.
Observation 1: Why, then, do I stare at stare at restaurant receipts for several minutes before finally coming up with the right amount for a tip?
Observation 2: On the other hand, this may explain a lot....
Observation 3: “Uh! I have more testosterone than estrogen!” -- Rachel Gesch, fall 1999
Naturally, since reading this article I've been staring at my hands for an inordinate amount of time. My ring and index fingers are just about level with each other. BUT a careful measurement with my tape measure (something I just thought of now) shows that my ring fingers are 1/16" longer than my index fingers.
Observation 1: Why, then, do I stare at stare at restaurant receipts for several minutes before finally coming up with the right amount for a tip?
Observation 2: On the other hand, this may explain a lot....
Observation 3: “Uh! I have more testosterone than estrogen!” -- Rachel Gesch, fall 1999
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
New every morning
Tonight it struck me how beautiful it is that "great is thy faithfulness" comes right in the middle of a book called Lamentations.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Snags and Reminders
I was very proud of myself this week. There I was, booking car, plane, train, and hotel reservations, making definite progress on this Europe trip. Then Saturday came and I found out I had gone over my credit limit. In my head, my credit card had a large enough limit to handle the costs of my trip. And it does. However, I have been booking trains and hotels for several people. That makes a difference.
First response: horror, even worse than the horror of being late returning a library book. Second response: panic--my entire trip was going to fall through, and the reservations I'd placed were all worthless, and we'd have to book new hotels at higher prices, and everybody was going to be so mad at me. Third response: Suzanne, you're supposed to have it more together than this!
Tonight at church the guest pastor preached on our weaknesses, and how God makes use of them to broadcast His strengths to us and to the watching world. I was sitting there, half paying attention and half trying to solve all the Europe problems in my head, and suddenly I thought: "Control freak."
Blast.
That one again.
Nowhere in all of yesterday's reactions to the news of the credit problem did I stop to pray about it. I mean, really. Pray about hotel reservations? Come on. God has bigger problems. This is one of those things I can handle this on my own. What does He even care?
The part of me that acknowledges that I'm not quite as independent as I act most times knows that He does care, even about relatively minor things. And this is relatively minor. This is not a scenario in which someone died (or even could have died) because I didn't do math properly.
So there's a wrench in my plans, and tomorrow I'm going to be working on getting it out. And on remembering that from an ultimate perspective, they're not really my plans, anyway.
First response: horror, even worse than the horror of being late returning a library book. Second response: panic--my entire trip was going to fall through, and the reservations I'd placed were all worthless, and we'd have to book new hotels at higher prices, and everybody was going to be so mad at me. Third response: Suzanne, you're supposed to have it more together than this!
Tonight at church the guest pastor preached on our weaknesses, and how God makes use of them to broadcast His strengths to us and to the watching world. I was sitting there, half paying attention and half trying to solve all the Europe problems in my head, and suddenly I thought: "Control freak."
Blast.
That one again.
Nowhere in all of yesterday's reactions to the news of the credit problem did I stop to pray about it. I mean, really. Pray about hotel reservations? Come on. God has bigger problems. This is one of those things I can handle this on my own. What does He even care?
The part of me that acknowledges that I'm not quite as independent as I act most times knows that He does care, even about relatively minor things. And this is relatively minor. This is not a scenario in which someone died (or even could have died) because I didn't do math properly.
So there's a wrench in my plans, and tomorrow I'm going to be working on getting it out. And on remembering that from an ultimate perspective, they're not really my plans, anyway.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Because I was curious about any other quiz trends....
And apparently there are none in Lost....
You are Jack. You are compassionate, heroic, and a bit of a martyr. You are brave and a natural leader. However, you shouldn't keep so much bottled up inside. You are so busy taking care of others that you have no time or energy to take care of yourself. Take a load off once in a while and play some golf with Hurley. You need to relax pretty soon or else you'll be no good for anyone anymore - including yourself!
Your polar opposite is: Shannon. You are similar to: Boone and Sayid.
The Which Lost Character Are You Test
Your results:
You are Mr. Eko
Click here to take the Lost Personality Quiz
What Lost Character Are You?
You are Jack!You are a kind and considerate soul, and always put others before you. Maybe you need to take some time out from helping others, andinstead help yourself.
Take this quiz!
Quizilla
Join
Make A Quiz More Quizzes Grab Code
Which Lost Character are you?
Your Score: Jack
You scored 58% kindness, 45% courage, 28% seedy past, and 48% secretiveness!
"We're not savages, Kate. Not yet."
You are Jack. You are compassionate, heroic, and a bit of a martyr. You are brave and a natural leader. However, you shouldn't keep so much bottled up inside. You are so busy taking care of others that you have no time or energy to take care of yourself. Take a load off once in a while and play some golf with Hurley. You need to relax pretty soon or else you'll be no good for anyone anymore - including yourself!
Your polar opposite is: Shannon. You are similar to: Boone and Sayid.
The Which Lost Character Are You Test
Your results:
You are Mr. Eko
| You are neither a leader nor a follower. You are a Bible reader and are motivated by God's will. Many people have respect for you. |
Click here to take the Lost Personality Quiz
 | You scored as Sawyer. You are Sawyer. Your raw sarcasm amuses everyone. You are rebellious and may even be onsidered a loner because of it. Your biggest mistake in life has been conforming to the ways of someone you despise.
Which "Lost" Character Personality are You? created with QuizFarm.com |
What Lost Character Are You?
You are Jack!You are a kind and considerate soul, and always put others before you. Maybe you need to take some time out from helping others, andinstead help yourself.
Take this quiz!
Quizilla
Join
Make A Quiz More Quizzes Grab Code
 | You scored as Kate. You are Kate! Even with your spotty past of bank robbery and trouble you are a known as a nice girl who loves adventure. You are one of the guys and will always volunteer to go exploring.
Which Lost Character Are You? created with QuizFarm.com |
Which Lost Character are you?
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
And because quizzes are addictive....
| You Are 20% Girly |
 And for you, that's probably the ultimate compliment. |
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