tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-135483852024-03-12T21:02:29.645-07:00Clarity Among ConfusionIlluminating the darkness, shining light on the places that need it most.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.comBlogger176125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-34893500719131973432008-04-22T10:58:00.000-07:002008-04-22T11:04:42.975-07:00Moving onIt's taken me a few days to decide, but I have finally come to a conclusion: I'm moving. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />No, not physically. I'm moving my blog. It's been fun these last couple of years on Blogger, but I've discovered Wordpress and I think it fits my needs better. So, farewell to Blogger and hello Wordpress. All my posts have been moved over (it's a lot easier than it sounds) and when you visit the new site, you'll find my very first blog there! More changes are coming as soon as I can get my graphic designer in motion. (Yes, I have a secret graphic designer. Everyone should have a friend who can do such things.)<br /><br />My new site is <a href="http://clarityamongconfusion.wordpress.com">http://clarityamongconfusion.wordpress.org</a>. Please note the change and fix up your links!Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-73788228122638653382008-04-17T14:25:00.000-07:002008-04-17T15:55:53.515-07:00Back on Terra FirmaFlew there and back again, now I'm spit back out in the land of fruits and nuts...and warm weather and glorious spring veggies...YUM! My time in England was incredible. I got to see old friends, and made some new ones. I explored Camden, which I love, and visited some old tourist sites I love. <br /><br />My favorite moments were when Jessica and I stumbled across some cool corner of the city, and we just stopped to soak it in. InSpiral Cafe in Camden served up tea and a veggie buffet, and The Old Blue Last offered us her best Saturday night crowd. If only I was called to work in England...*sigh* No use in worrying about it, though, since I know that I am called to California. But England will always be my "second country" so to speak. It has been since I was 17, on my very first visit with my French teacher.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-59211404407907149432008-04-02T23:39:00.000-07:002008-04-03T01:18:34.616-07:00Death is taxes, and I'm ready for a vacationI just helped put 13 missionary students and three staff on an airplane headed to Southeast Asia. I'm tired. I can't find anyone who can do my taxes by Saturday, and I'm leaving the country on Monday. So I used TurboTax. Please God, I pray I did it right. On a happier note, God supplied the money I needed to pay my taxes, which is a huge weight off my mind.<br /><br />By the way, I, the Queen of Travel Planning, who has trouble being separated from her guide book and maps, has done precious little planning for this England trip. Jessica, who is traveling with me, and has a similar disease, has done no planning to speak of either. The only things on our agenda so far: Camden Market, British Museum, Burn Service at St. Alban's, Fifteen (Jamie Oliver's restaurant, and our one blowout food event. Can you say, "Hello sandwiches!") Don't get me wrong. We plan on doing plenty, particularly the free museums; we just aren't sure what we will be in the mood for. We also get the feeling that God has some spontaneous things for us on this trip, so we want to leave space for Him to work. I kind of like the fact that we are leaving things so wide open. My brain is fried, and planning properly requires brain power, so I am more than willing to lay aside my OCD trip planning and embrace spontaneity for once. Perhaps after a couple of days at Holmsted, traipsing through the countryside and enjoying the pub at the crossroads, I'll feel more up to it. <br /><br />Also, I am determined to fit all of my belongings into a "carry-on" size Samsonite, which I will check, and a small duffel I will take on the plane. Usually, my Girl Scout sense of being prepared for all occasions means that I pack a large suitcase and overpack for the plane as well. Maybe I'm changing my ways. Or maybe I realize getting from Heathrow to Gatwick, then later up to London, is no piece of cake when you have enough luggage for three people. <br /><br />At any rate, I am looking forward to the eight hours on a plane. It will be my first "slug moment" since January. I can't wait to delve into "Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers," and watch all the movies I haven't rented because it would be a waste of money to spend money on such drivel, but secretly want to see anyway. After that, I'll take a Tylenol PM, prop myself up against the window, and sleep until we touch down in the land my heart loves. Ah. Bliss.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-14109669458323991132008-03-26T18:53:00.000-07:002008-03-26T19:05:10.643-07:00Shrinking meDoes it say something about me that I <I>really</I> look forward to a visit with my counselor? I mean, literally, I skip out the door, down the steps and hop in my car when it's time to go. And this is at 9 a.m. On a <I>Monday</I>. Honest. That's like a record for me, I think. I started thinking about this yesterday, because I've been going for over a month now, and things have been going really well. I'm tackling something new just about every session, spending time each week working on the issues we talk about, and thinking of methods I can use to free myself from my old junk. But here's my problem: I'm thinking that pretty soon all the things I went to counseling for in the first place are going to be dealt with, and I'll have no reason to go back. I've really enjoyed having someone to listen to me, and I love figuring things out. I don't want to quit, even though I'm on the road to recovery. Which begs the question: Can you get addicted to counseling?Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-77806336506760308512008-02-20T18:46:00.000-08:002008-02-20T19:11:09.210-08:00BIts of brainThere is no escaping it: I am in love with Ryan Adams. Well maybe I love his music. Yeah, not in love. Just love his art. Anyway, I went to see him in Santa Barbara a few weeks ago with my friend Jess, and she was so amazing as to get me a live bootleg of the show. Bliss. Petulant child he may be, but Adams was so put together on stage. The band was on, and when the audience let him, he navigated the show and gave folks what they came for. I am thankful for Jess and her brother, who are directly responsible for me getting to see cool shows in California. It's a little more complicated to get to said shows, because no one really comes to SLO. You have to travel to Santa Barbara, San Francisco or LA to see anything not local. <br /><br />*sigh* It makes me miss Nashville.<br /><br />********<br /><br />I'm listening to David Bazan, formerly of Pedro the Lion. I'm liking one I'm hearing, although it's taking me a little while to get used to it. It's folk rock with pop sensibilities. Well, half of it anyway. It's five songs done pop style, the redone acoustic. I feel slightly ripped off that there's not more material, but I do like the songs. I recommend it. But not more than Easy Tiger. <br /><br />********<br /><br />Onetruth Clothing is closing up shop after 10 years. I remember going to Cornerstone a couple of years and seeing their booth, but I didn't know much about it. I tended to buy CD's by the handful, and sort of missed the whole thing. Then I moved to the Central Coast and learned more about this amazing company and what they stand for. Really, a very cool group of people, headed up by a guy with his heart in the right place. Visit them at www.onetruth.com, check out the designs, and maybe purchase something as they close the book on their ministry. <br /><br />********<br /><br />I made curried butternut squash soup tonight. Oh dear. That. Was. Amazing. I will be making this stuff by the bucketload in the near future. <br /><br />********<br /><br />Books are meant to be read, not sit on your shelf at home. Remember that kids.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-3212373534315002722008-02-02T18:39:00.000-08:002008-02-02T18:42:43.663-08:00According to the paternity test...I was in Target this evening, and in the next aisle, I heard a father and daughter talking.<br /><br />Little Girl: You're not really a daddy.<br />Dad: Really? I'm not?<br />Little Girl: No. Mommy says you're like a little kid.<br /><br />I do not make these things up. I promise.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-74965753361200094452008-02-02T14:56:00.000-08:002008-02-02T15:08:23.100-08:00The night time is the write timeI recently e-mailed an old friend of mine (Hi K!) and we've been in this conversation about Ryan Adams and other randomness. Really randomness. Although K and I lost touch for a good long while (How long has been K? Eight years?), we still jabber away as if we were still hanging out back in our maudlin university days. There are always those people who bring out the best in us, and K inspires me to write my little heart out, the likes of which hasn't happened much since I quit my writing job two years ago. Maybe it's the whacked out way he writes. Or the fact that he acts as if I am a competent writer....heh. Whatever, it's helping me. Loads. <br /><br />Which brings me to the point: The two of us have been mulling over doing some writing together to see what might come out. If you've read my anecdotes on this blog, then you know what this could mean. Utter, chaotic fun! Yay! And K is a much better writer than me. Really. Could be epic.<br /><br />Now I just have to figure out when I'm going to do said writing. The middle of the night? Cause at the moment, that's about all the time I have with DTS going on right now.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-56177689372496972942008-01-28T10:16:00.000-08:002008-01-28T10:26:04.819-08:00Long lost twin?I visited Calvary Shoreline this Sunday, making it three weeks in a row where I've been in church. Woot!<br /><br />It was a particularly cold and windy day. As in, so windy I could have sworn I saw a cow fly past, and was almost knocked on my rear twice while trying to get to the church door. (Note to self: Never wear heels when the weather calls for cold, rain and wind. Much harder to dash from car to church.) After service, I wound up walking behind a guy who was wearing shorts and sandals. Shorts and sandals! Really! Oh, you Californians. Afraid to admit when the weather is too cold for beach wear.<br /><br />Exiting the church, I turned to him. <br />Me: "Aren't you freezing in shorts?" <br />Shorts guy: "Oh no. My love of king and country keep me warm."<br />Me: *loud guffaw*<br /><br />I think I frightened him with my, um, unique laugh, but I don't care who you are, that's funny right there. I think I may have found my male counterpart, because that's exactly the kind of randomness that would come out of my own mouth.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-42446658729949615742008-01-24T18:57:00.000-08:002008-01-24T19:42:04.902-08:00Situational comedySometimes I do things that make me chuckle, although I think they are only amusing to me.<br /><br />Take Tuesday, for example. I was headed to Bible study, which was just around the corner. I'm trying to walk more, since I now live near downtown. Of course, it's been like the second coming of The Flood this week in SLO, so I would have been justified if I had taken my car down the street. But I'm trying to be good, so I bundled up in hoodie, coat and thick shoes, and started walking. Before I left the house, I grabbed a spoon and dug into my roommate's cookie dough in the fridge (shhh...don't tell her.) So I'm trudging along in the rain, munching on cookie dough. I finished by the time I reached the street, but what to do with the spoon? To top it off, I couldn't find my friend's house, so there I am, wandering up and down the street, looking for this house with a spoon in my hand. <br /><br />I guess you had to be there...Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-54416493024505143752008-01-20T10:06:00.000-08:002008-01-20T10:34:58.341-08:00Church Search 2008Over the holiday, I committed to my mother that I would start looking for a church home in January. Yikes. Why did I do that? Oh wait, I know why: 1. It's important to be a part of a church family. 2. My mother has hounded me for months, saying that my Tuesday night Bible study is not adequate to fill my need for fellowship with the Christian body. (She's half right...)<br /><br />Unfortunately, I am really, really bad at this "church search" thing. I've lived three different places, and I always struggle to find a church. In fact, I'm much more apt to continue going to a church I'm not all that crazy about just to avoid a continued tedious search. I am horribly impatient like that. And lazy. Also, I like a stable core of people around me, and if I already have that elsewhere, then it's difficult to see the reasoning behind making myself uncomfortable at a church where I don't know anyone and I don't feel welcome. For those that know me, I'm not shy. I have no problem walking up and introducing myself to people, but church people, in light of my experiences, can be less friendly than the outside world. That is sad. <br /><br />Let's do a study on my sad church history, shall we? <br /><br />Scenario #1: My church in university was Baptist, and the college minister was pretty legalistic. He was a cool guy, but he was a bit like a bull in a china shop when it came to grace. I stayed because I made friends there, but ultimately, I got to the point where I disliked being there and felt like people were judging me. And I wasn't even really a bad gal. I just needed a touch of guidance and some accountability, not a straitjacket.<br /><br />Scenario #2: In Nashville, I somehow wound up at the megachurch, maybe because I was impressed by the flash and bang of the worship. And, ahem, the famous people. Sad, I know. I felt like I grew OK there. I was super involved in the young adults ministry, and actually coordinated events. Then our leader left, the church hired someone new, and no one asked the current leadership team to help work with the new group. What's funny is God had told me to leave the church, but I kept sticking around because I didn't want to start over. Then we lost our leader. To put one final nail in the coffin, I went to the missions pastor, saying I was interested in doing missions, and he asked me, with barely concealed annoyance, "Well, what do you want me to do?" Bingo. I was out.<br /><br />I got it right after that. I found the church I should have been in all along, and to be honest, I still miss everyone there terribly. I wish I could have carried the whole lot of them in my suitcase, and set up a nice church on one of the hillsides outside of San Luis Obispo. Looking back, I am amazed I still even attend church, let alone do mission work. It's just more evidence that God is gracious and merciful, and He never lets us down.<br /><br />On a different note, does anyone else have the problem of getting their brain stuck on one thing for long periods of time? Any remedies for that?Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-24041812451339267762007-12-16T10:38:00.000-08:002007-12-16T10:51:17.040-08:00State of mindCurrent location: LAX (AKA Los Angeles International Airport; AKA HELL)<br />Currently feeling: A little sleepy, attempting to maintain calm among the crush of LaLa Land<br />Looking forward to: Spending time with my family for Christmas<br />Not looking forward to: Feeling sad about my grandmother not being around for Christmas, people asking me when I'm going to find a nice man to marry<br />Soundtrack in my ears: My Father is a Wandering Aramean, a sermon by Rob BellScoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-34207420470914295792007-12-09T22:05:00.000-08:002007-12-09T22:26:58.993-08:00Long-lost cousins unite!In the South, family is life. Who you are related to and how is an important right of passage that all Southerners must go through every time they are introduced to a random passing stranger. Usually the conversation goes something like this:<br /><br />Friend: Mrs. Magoo, this is my friend Lauren.<br />Mrs. Magoo: So nice to meet you, Lauren. Aren't you the prettiest thing? <br />Me: Thanks, Mrs. Magoo. It's nice to meet you too. <br />Mrs. Magoo: Now, are you from around here? Do I know your mom and dad?<br />(To be followed by a liturgy of my family history until we establish a connection, or find that we are indeed strangers in this world.)<br /><br />The latter rarely happens in a small town. Especially when you have seven uncles, one aunt and approximately 20 cousins on one side of the family, and the other side features a patriarch who built many of the houses in town. So we often move on to, "Oh, you look just like your mother did when I knew her back in 1970-something when we were working at the library together..." You get used to this, and then you proceed to do it to everyone <em>you</em> meet, and tradition of family is carried through into Southern eternity (which, by the way, is a lot longer than average eternity.) This is not a bad thing. It's just very interesting to observe.<br /><br />Anyway, when I announced that I was moving to California (almost an unheard of practice in Lower Alabama,) member's of my father's side of the family began to say things along the lines of, "Oh, your second and third cousins live out in California," as if I was going to run into them on US-101 during a Sunday drive. I simply smiled and nodded, as if I would really ever meet this long-lost branch of my family (my granny's brothers' and sisters' children, to get specific...all nine of them.)<br /><br />Well folks, I'm here to tell you that miracles do happen. I'm visiting some of said long-lost relatives this weekend. No, I didn't happen across them at the grocery store; my mom keeps in touch with one of cousins she particularly likes, and that sweet lady Claudia told my mom that she would like to meet me. So I got the number from my mom, called up Claudia, and planned a visit to Southern California. Strangely enough, it was my granny's spirit of adventure that was passed on to me through the gene pool that led me to do something so unorthodox. Now I'm surrounded by a great aunt, second and third cousins, and they all eerily give off the same Garner family traits that I see in my dad and my uncles, my cousins, my brother...and me. And even though they are four hours away, there's a comforting feeling knowing that within driving range are a batch of people that act like me, think like me and love me. <br /><br />Maybe there's something to this "Who's your family?" business after all.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-16733830825746814862007-11-27T22:46:00.000-08:002007-11-27T22:52:02.915-08:00Thank you, thank you, thank youI was bustling on my way to Bible study tonight, and as I passed by Gap, I happened to look up. <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1Vb4FiOQDvE/R00P4N9dOJI/AAAAAAAAADs/4gtrtoZzYWI/s1600-h/final-john.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1Vb4FiOQDvE/R00P4N9dOJI/AAAAAAAAADs/4gtrtoZzYWI/s320/final-john.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137780208394123410" /></a><br /><br />Can I just say God bless Gap for making their window ads ginormous. God bless them, every one.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-90795468403391021982007-11-27T16:46:00.001-08:002007-11-27T17:06:34.114-08:00A passingI've been trying to write for a week now, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. My grandmother died (or as we in the South say, "passed away") last week, and I had to make an unexpected trip home to be with my family before Thanksgiving. It's been hard on me, admitting that my grandmother is gone, and that life keeps moving forward, and that we are all inevitably headed to the same fate. <br /><br />Not that I grudge my grandmother's passing. She has lived with Parkinson's Disease for ten years, and she was ready to" go be with Jesus," as she would say. She is no longer suffering, and Grandmother Elsie has a new body that isn't stooped. She can let forth her girly giggle and not have it obstructed by her face that had become a mask of no expression. She's free, and she leaves all of us here with a little piece of selfishness in our hearts, wanting her back, but a little bit of relief as well, knowing that she is much better off. <br /><br />I was thinking of memories of my grandmother during the funeral. I used to sit at the kitchen counter and drink "hot tea" while she listened to Dr. James Dobson. Oh, how I loathed the old fashioned organ music and the somber voice. Now days, I am thankful for the spiritual legacy she left my family. At nine years old, my grandmother realized that she needed to be in church. Her parents never took her, but she decided she was going to get up, get dressed and go. Until illness set in, and even after, she hardly ever missed a Sunday. <br /><br />My Christian legacy is influenced by that day over 60 years ago. I can't help but be grateful.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-69430295891074143422007-11-14T00:28:00.001-08:002007-11-14T00:53:00.628-08:00Downtown oasisI just moved to a new neighborhood, but already I have a favorite spot. Coffee shops always seem to be my social hub, no matter where I end up living, and Linnea's Cafe has all I could ask for in a coffee shop: good drinks, yummy treats, and wireless internet. These three things alone mean that I could dwell there for an indefinite amount of time (read: all day, to escape my housemates) and be good to go. My favorite bit of Linnea's is the back patio. It's a little oasis in the middle of downtown. There's a pond where some goldfish live, and a vine-covered arbor in case you need a cool place to sit. Which I could have used today, while I was sunburning down in Pismo. (75 and sunny on the Central Coast right now. Take that, suckas!) I've made several trips to the cafe already, since it's a convenient four-odd blocks away. We are internet-less at the moment, so I go to use the free goodness...well, that's only partly true. Thank you, nameless neighbors who didn't password protect their wireless modem. Anyway, when the neighbor's connection is unavailable, I saunter down the road. Jeez, i love living downtown.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-27810725377714130322007-11-13T23:20:00.000-08:002007-11-14T00:27:53.870-08:00New placeIt's been a little while since I've written, but I've been busy, so lay off. hehe... totally kidding. I have been busy, though. We finally got a place to live in San Luis Obispo, and all my time has been taking up with moving in and setting up. After much calculation, I figured out that this was my 13th move in 10 years. Thankfully, no bad luck followed me. It's been really good, and between me and my new roommate Shells, we could outfit three houses. So we're set. We have nice neighbors in our little apartment complex too, and I can't wait to get to know some of them better.<br /><br />I don't have any pictures yet, but as soon as my head stops spinning, I'll post some for your perusal.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-69821272323424201042007-11-05T09:33:00.001-08:002007-11-05T09:52:53.474-08:00Beauty bootyOver at Good Girl Lit, they have tagged their readers to give up their best beauty secrets. Actually, I'm a sucker for all things beauty, even though I don't have the money to go out and spend a ton on beauty supplies. I make an exception when it comes to keeping my complexion clear. For years, I used the Clinique three-step system: wash, toner, moisturizer. My problem is I am l-a-z-y when it comes to washing my face, and would sometimes skip a step in the name of speed or sleep.<br /><br />I have recently discovered two shortcuts that have saved me time, and saved my face. <br /><br />1. Cosmedicine Healthy Cleanse - It's a face wash and toner in one; plus, it removes eye and face makeup. You shake it up so it's nice and foamy, then scrub away. <br />2. Murad Correcting Moisturizer - I have light rosacea, and this green-tinted moisturizer keeps me from looking like I am eternally sunburned or overheated. The SPF 15 is an added bonus, and another step eliminated from my beauty regime. <br /><br />Both of these can be purchased at Sephora, and while they are expensive, they are comparable in price when compared to the three steps of the Clinique system.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-14832270068528977832007-10-30T23:23:00.000-07:002007-10-31T00:15:02.611-07:00AcceptanceTonight was Porch Night, which is a gathering of people who come together to dicuss the Bible on a porch. It's an unorthodox group, to be sure. Not all of us are Christians, and none of us have it together, and we don't pretend to. Some weeks it is utterly painful to come and hang with it and dig deep and not come up with Sunday School answers. Other weeks, the presence of God rests on us, and though we might be struggling with the deeper issues of faith, it just works. <br /><br />Tonight was one of those nights. One of the guys who is not a Christian really struggles to reconcile Jesus, really cool guy, to miracle worker and savior. He believes that the miracles mentioned in the Bible are figures of speech, that they didn't really happen the way they are portrayed. He is a very analytical person who needs tangible eveidence. He's a scientist, a facts man. Several people in our group keep explaining that it's not just about facts, but faith. Many of us have seen miracles and other signs that God is real. Not that it makes us special. God has spoken to us in some way, and for whatever reason, we picked up on it and received it.<br /><br />We ended up praying for this guy tonight, that his stomach, which has bothered him for years, would be miraculously healed. I don't know if God will choose to speak to him this way, but I pray that God does speak to him, that his eyes will be opened. In the meanwhile, we'll keep loving on him, this amazing brother of The Porch.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-81308515249651404892007-10-28T20:59:00.000-07:002007-10-28T22:18:05.692-07:00Late BloomerHi, my name is Lauren, and I'm addicted to The Office. (Hi Lauren.)<br /><br />So, I don't have cable TV. And I quit watching network television sometime back when Friends and Seinfeld went off the air. But not long ago, I was in Los Angeles visiting an old friend, and she was watching The Office when I got to her hotel room. My stomach was hurting I laughed so hard.<br /><br />Then my roomie C brought home Season Two of The Office. C is responsible for many of my addictions (So You Think You Can Dance and The Office) and I am responsible for hers (Ticket to Ride.) I have devoured two discs thus far. <br /><br />I busted a gut when Dwight delivered the Mussolini speech. <br /><br />And you can't beat those moments when someone says something completely off the wall, and Jim gives the camera a look. Classic. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1Vb4FiOQDvE/RyVswMdyapI/AAAAAAAAADk/ekJvijWa2L8/s1600-h/jimface.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1Vb4FiOQDvE/RyVswMdyapI/AAAAAAAAADk/ekJvijWa2L8/s320/jimface.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126623326066862738" /></a>Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-75076845246138315982007-10-23T22:33:00.000-07:002007-10-23T22:57:15.612-07:00Wonder DressThe girls over at <A HREF="http://goodgirllit.blogspot.com">Good Girl Lit</A> asked their readers to tell about their favorite piece of clothing. Normally I would say something common like jeans, but I just bought this awesome dress from Fossil. I haven't worn it with a shirt underneath yet, because it's still warm in California, but it will work all year round. It hits my curves well and the skirt is not too full, so I don't look five months along. All I have to say is thank yoooouuuuu, Fossil. Maybe this post is shallow, but we all have something in our closet that we love because it makes us look and feel good. <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1Vb4FiOQDvE/Rx7cTuMVZeI/AAAAAAAAADU/rvW1K9BRTv0/s1600-h/WC4732075_main.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1Vb4FiOQDvE/Rx7cTuMVZeI/AAAAAAAAADU/rvW1K9BRTv0/s320/WC4732075_main.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124775657369593314" /></a><br /><center>La Dress</center>Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-52451427183367533072007-10-14T16:34:00.000-07:002007-10-14T17:11:08.376-07:00A dive off the deep endMy friend Mary wrote a nice bit about the reopening of <A HREF="http://maryedworld.blogspot.com/">McCarthy's</A>, a local bar here in the Central Coast. I figured I would throw my two cents into the heap.<br /><br />McCarthy's was the very first bar I visited when I first came to San Luis Obispo. The original location was super small, and crammed with people. A little tight, maybe, but you expect that. Due to the lovely California no-smoking-in-public-buildings law, however, it was smoke free, which is all a girl could ask for. I was amused to see people's faces when I told them Mary had taken me to McCarthy's. Inevitably, there was the upturned noses and the disbelief that I had been to that "dive bar." Even now that it has opened up in a newer, nicer location, resplendent with a patio and nice restrooms, people are still turning up their nose. <br /><br />Apparently, these people have never been to Alabama. Dive bar takes on a whole new meaning. Let's see if I can define for you the typical college bar in Auburn, AL. The venerable War Eagle Supper Club has lived by this motto for more than 30 years: "Cold beer, hot rock, expect no mercy." And indeed, you'll get no mercy here. The shows are amazing, but so is the line to get inside and the line to the ladies room. Which, by the way, qualifies as an adventure unto itself. Until they were recently removed to comply with fire codes, band T-shirts also hung from the rafters. Every surface is sticky, or graffitied, or both. And this is where I spent many a Saturday night after an Auburn victory, strutting in my finest and dancing along to the Velcro Pygmies. <br /><br />Or take the Strutting Duck, for example. Often referred to as a redneck bar, it's a great place to go play pool if you want to escape the crowds way out on Wire Road. If you can stand the smoke-filled atmosphere, linoleum floors and ag students in boots with Skoal rings in their back pocket.<br /><br />And if you got a sandwich craving in the middle of your 2 a.m. cram session, there was Momma Goldberg's. More a deli than a bar, it still hosted tons of frat boys filling up on Momma's Love sandwiches and swilling beer. *A moment's pause to contemplate the joy that is a steamed sammy from Momma G's...mmmm* The walls are a jumbled collection of old Auburn schedule posters for everything from football to swimming, signed photographs of old Auburn players, and newspapers touting victories from the 1980's. Everyone fights for chairs to place around the rickety formica tables, and the place boasts at least three TV's so as not to miss any of the post-game action. It's a block from Jordan-Hare Stadium, making it a prime spot to congregate after the game.<br /><br />These and others were the places I thrived on, the villages where I would meet up with buddies and listen to good music, debate the latest wins and losses, and maybe dance with a good-looking guy from the swim team. And every last one of them where 10 times more "divey" than McCarthy's. <br /><br />But you know, McC's definitely is a kindred spirit. Maybe that's why I liked it when I first walked inside. I recognized the same village mentality, the mix and flow that is the local spot. Old and young mixed with the tough looking dudes smoking in the courtyard. Beer in a can, and Guiness for the Irish inside us. And I can't help but smile.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-9428053328496594592007-10-12T09:56:00.000-07:002007-10-12T10:01:52.884-07:00This is a shoutout to my roomies. I am so thankful for their wisdom when I am in over my head. They help me do photo shoots, they make me laugh, and they put up with me even when my room looks like I was conducting World War III, and then a tornado blew through. And they do things like this:<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1Vb4FiOQDvE/Rw-oEyQFZgI/AAAAAAAAADM/8d3ITGACKwY/s1600-h/IMG_2738.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1Vb4FiOQDvE/Rw-oEyQFZgI/AAAAAAAAADM/8d3ITGACKwY/s320/IMG_2738.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120496101505721858" /></a><br /><br />(Don't worry, C. I didn't put up the <i>really</I> funny picture.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-8920319457603475602007-10-05T15:57:00.000-07:002007-10-05T16:07:15.712-07:00Answered prayers'Round these parts, my brain is feeling a bit like it is in a blender stuck on "frappe." But I can't complain, because God is good. I have a couple of answered prayers and updates in the middle of all the nuttiness.<br /><br />Update #1 - After searching for a place to live for two months, with numerous changes to the number of roommates who would moving in, when they would be moving in, etc., we have a place to live. It's not in San Luis Obispo, but at the moment, SLO housing is difficult to come by. So as a compromise, me and the ladies will be moving to a house just off the 101 in Grover Beach. This couple that used to work at the YWAM base here are moving to Colorado, and they needed someone to take over their lease. <br />Update #2 - The same family that gave us a place to live is giving us most of their furniture! So I now have a couch, an end table, two ugly lamps, one tall floor lamp and some other random goodness. Yay, yay, yay!<br />Update #3 - For those who live in the Nashville area, I will be coming for a visit from October 16-22. If you want to see me, please, please e-mail or call me. I have the same number I had in Nashville. <br /><br />I think that's it for now. Stay tuned for a moving essay about Mr. Rogers.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-77576432206933992682007-10-03T23:13:00.000-07:002007-10-03T23:17:26.468-07:00My point exactlyToday my roommate found out something about someone on their Myspace that she didn't previously know. She was in our kitchen, ranting about how the world no longer has normal conversations. My brilliant comment from the living room:<br /><br />"You should write a blog about that."<br /><br />Doh.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13548385.post-66717075330357265512007-09-30T18:39:00.000-07:002007-09-30T18:52:08.823-07:00War Eagle!WAR EAGLE, FLY DOWN THE FIELD!<br />EVER TO CONQUER, NEVER TO YEILD!<br />WAR EAGLE, FEARLESS AND TRUE,<br />FIGHT ON YOU ORANGE AND BLUE!<br />GO! GO! GO!<br /><br />*realizes everyone is reading*<br /><br />Sorry about that. Auburn beat No. 4-ranked Florida yesterday, and I'm still celebrating.Scoobyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18195331734139242067noreply@blogger.com0