Clarity Among Confusion

Moving on

2008-04-22T10:58:00.000-07:00

It's taken me a few days to decide, but I have finally come to a conclusion: I'm moving.

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.)

My new site is http://clarityamongconfusion.wordpress.org. Please note the change and fix up your links!

Back on Terra Firma

2008-04-17T14:25:00.000-07:00

Flew 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.

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.

Death is taxes, and I'm ready for a vacation

2008-04-02T23:39:00.000-07:00

I 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.

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.

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.

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.

Shrinking me

2008-03-26T18:53:00.000-07:00

Does it say something about me that I really 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 Monday. 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?

BIts of brain

2008-02-20T18:46:00.000-08:00

There 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.

*sigh* It makes me miss Nashville.

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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.

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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.

********

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.

********

Books are meant to be read, not sit on your shelf at home. Remember that kids.

According to the paternity test...

2008-02-02T18:39:00.000-08:00

I was in Target this evening, and in the next aisle, I heard a father and daughter talking.

Little Girl: You're not really a daddy.
Dad: Really? I'm not?
Little Girl: No. Mommy says you're like a little kid.

I do not make these things up. I promise.

The night time is the write time

2008-02-02T14:56:00.000-08:00

I 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.

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.

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.

Long lost twin?

2008-01-28T10:16:00.000-08:00

I visited Calvary Shoreline this Sunday, making it three weeks in a row where I've been in church. Woot!

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.

Exiting the church, I turned to him.
Me: "Aren't you freezing in shorts?"
Shorts guy: "Oh no. My love of king and country keep me warm."
Me: *loud guffaw*

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.

Situational comedy

2008-01-24T18:57:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I do things that make me chuckle, although I think they are only amusing to me.

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.

I guess you had to be there...

Church Search 2008

2008-01-20T10:06:00.000-08:00

Over 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...)

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.

Let's do a study on my sad church history, shall we?

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.

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.

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.

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?

State of mind

2007-12-16T10:38:00.000-08:00

Current location: LAX (AKA Los Angeles International Airport; AKA HELL)
Currently feeling: A little sleepy, attempting to maintain calm among the crush of LaLa Land
Looking forward to: Spending time with my family for Christmas
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
Soundtrack in my ears: My Father is a Wandering Aramean, a sermon by Rob Bell

Long-lost cousins unite!

2007-12-09T22:05:00.000-08:00

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:

Friend: Mrs. Magoo, this is my friend Lauren.
Mrs. Magoo: So nice to meet you, Lauren. Aren't you the prettiest thing?
Me: Thanks, Mrs. Magoo. It's nice to meet you too.
Mrs. Magoo: Now, are you from around here? Do I know your mom and dad?
(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.)

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 you 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.

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.)

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.

Maybe there's something to this "Who's your family?" business after all.

Thank you, thank you, thank you

2007-11-27T22:46:00.000-08:00

I was bustling on my way to Bible study tonight, and as I passed by Gap, I happened to look up.

Can I just say God bless Gap for making their window ads ginormous. God bless them, every one.

A passing

2007-11-27T16:46:00.001-08:00

I'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.

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.

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.

My Christian legacy is influenced by that day over 60 years ago. I can't help but be grateful.

Downtown oasis

2007-11-14T00:28:00.001-08:00

I 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.

New place

2007-11-13T23:20:00.000-08:00

It'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.

I don't have any pictures yet, but as soon as my head stops spinning, I'll post some for your perusal.

Beauty booty

2007-11-05T09:33:00.001-08:00

Over 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.

I have recently discovered two shortcuts that have saved me time, and saved my face.

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.
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.

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.

Acceptance

2007-10-30T23:23:00.000-07:00

Tonight 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.

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.

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.

Late Bloomer

2007-10-28T20:59:00.000-07:00

Hi, my name is Lauren, and I'm addicted to The Office. (Hi Lauren.)

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.

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.

I busted a gut when Dwight delivered the Mussolini speech.

And you can't beat those moments when someone says something completely off the wall, and Jim gives the camera a look. Classic.

Wonder Dress

2007-10-23T22:33:00.000-07:00

The girls over at Good Girl Lit 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.

La Dress

A dive off the deep end

2007-10-14T16:34:00.000-07:00

My friend Mary wrote a nice bit about the reopening of McCarthy's, a local bar here in the Central Coast. I figured I would throw my two cents into the heap.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

2007-10-12T09:56:00.000-07:00

This 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:

(Don't worry, C. I didn't put up the really funny picture.

Answered prayers

2007-10-05T15:57:00.000-07:00

'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.

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.
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!
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.

I think that's it for now. Stay tuned for a moving essay about Mr. Rogers.

My point exactly

2007-10-03T23:13:00.000-07:00

Today 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:

"You should write a blog about that."

Doh.

War Eagle!

2007-09-30T18:39:00.000-07:00

WAR EAGLE, FLY DOWN THE FIELD!
EVER TO CONQUER, NEVER TO YEILD!
WAR EAGLE, FEARLESS AND TRUE,
FIGHT ON YOU ORANGE AND BLUE!
GO! GO! GO!

*realizes everyone is reading*

Sorry about that. Auburn beat No. 4-ranked Florida yesterday, and I'm still celebrating.

They get stuck, and they won't go away

2007-09-23T22:13:00.000-07:00

News Flash: I have officially become a "creepy guy magnet." *

I went to Downtown Brew to get my college football fix last Saturday. I must have looked like such a sports nerd. I had the Alabama-Georgia game on the screen in front of me, the stats from the Auburn-New Mexico State on my computer screen (thank you, DTB, for wireless internet!) and a head phone in one ear to catch the AU commentary. Yep. I am a complete football dork. But I currently do not have cable, nor will I in the near future, so I do what I have to do.

In this state, however, I am alluring to washed-up salesmen who have had one too many to drink. No really. This 30-year-old dude (He showed me his license because I didn't believe him) comes up out of nowhere and starts asking me all these questions about why I have a computer, and what am I watching, blah, blah, blah. And dang if I didn't let him keep talking. Maybe it's a signal of how desperate I am for someone to join me in my Saturday football craziness, but I let the guy chat. And chat. Then the Bame-UGA game went into overtime, and he said he was happy because he would get to hang out with me longer.

I think I've got to quit being nice to random guys.

* Batteries not included.

The case of the missing notebook

2007-09-22T10:35:00.000-07:00

My talent for losing things has reached its pinnacle. My photography notebook, with all my film, contact sheets and notes, has somehow disappeared. I have no clue where it has gone. All I know is that it was in my house yesterday afternoon, when I showed my roommate Cindy some pictures I had taken of her. From there I believe the little green devil migrated down the hall to Cindy's room with the rest of my stuff, because we had guests last night, and I was sleeping in her room. When I looked for it this morning, it was gone.

HOW in the name of all that is holy does this happen? I mean, it's not like I dropped my keys somewhere, or my cell phone. It's an average sized green notebook with pictures jammed into it. A little hard to miss. So much for going to class...instead I get to play Nancy Drew.

Well, grunt, grunt, hello to you too!

2007-09-19T13:06:00.000-07:00

For the last three weeks or so, I have been searching for a new house in San Luis Obispo. No, I'm not mad at my current roommates; we just have new staff coming in a couple of weeks, and we need a place for them. So far, the process has been painful and not very much fun, but I am trusting that God will bring something in His timing.

During this housing crisis, I have talked with just about every major property management company in town. There seems to be a common theme developing with all of them...There are some seriously disgruntled front desk workers in the realm of rentals. Here is a common exchange between me and the surly secretaries:
Me: Yes, I'm calling about 1234 Elm Street.
Surly Secretary: (silence)
Me: Is it still available for rent?
SS: *grunt* Um, I'm not sure.
Me: Oh, OK. Can you look it up for me, please?
SS: (With barely concealed resentment) I'll have to call you back.
*Phone slams*

Maybe it's just me, but the last time I checked, I'm renting something from you. Which should lend itself to courtesy being extended to interested renters, even if you do earn minor ducats at a thankless job in a college town. I'm just saying.

Serious red flag

2007-09-03T21:22:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you the tale of my recent endeavor in the dating world.

So, one day I was cruising the Craigslist, indulging in a pastime Mary and I find extremely diverting: Personal Ads Reading. There are generally some real winners on there. And by winners I mean dudes who say things like this: "I am open to all possibilities but I am picky. Not to say that I would not pick you. Maybe you wont pick me? It is your choice and mine also." Huh??

So I'm looking and laughing, and I pull up an ad that seems normal. Guy in my age range, says he's a Christian, etc. etc. I took a step out on a limb and actually dropped him a line. His responses seemed normal, and we had good conversation, so we eventually decided to meet up for coffee. He was a genuinely cool guy. He came over to my house the next day to watch a movie, and still all was well. He had some baggage, but whatever. We've all had our issues.

Then all these little red flags started popping up. He would text instead of calling me. Then I would hear nothing from him. He would ask these really intense questions, but we had only gone out twice. A couple of my friends met him and thought he was weird. Then came the coup de grace. We always have a gathering at my house on Wednesday nights, and all my friends come over and we cook dinner and hang out. My parents happened to be in town as well. I gave him a hug when he came in, but was running around talking to everyone who came because we had a lot more people than usual that night. Then my roommate Cindy spotted it. "Oh my gosh. What is that?" she said, pointing at his midsection. And there it was: a turkey claw attached to a belt buckle. Not like a fake metal turkey claw, but a real one.

Now, there are hunters in my family, and I love to fish, but my father and brother do not wear coonskin caps or snakeskin boots. And needless to say, my taste in men generally runs in the opposite direction from turkey claw belt buckles. Of course, my friends and roommates won't let me forget it. They asked me what in the world I was thinking. But have no fear, y'all. The belt buckle sealed it. I am back to being single for the next five years, until the next nut job comes out of the woodwork.

Bengay not included

2007-08-20T22:10:00.000-07:00

Today was one of the "knock you on your butt" variety. I'm still rubbing my tail bone.

I returned Saturday from Big Sky country (although it could have been renamed "Big Smoke" country with a forest fire 15 miles away.) I knew it was going to be a stretch to get everything done that needs doing before my parents arrive on Wednesday, btu all you can do is work as best you can and forget the rest. First on my agenda was looking at rental houses for my impending move to San Luis. It's hard enough trying to go into an empty apartment and see potential in the dark, furniture-less, lifeless living room, but I also have to compete for housing with Cal Poly students and Daddy's Money. Never attempt moving into a college town a week after fall classes start. It should only be executed by a trained professional....monkey, that is.

So yeah...I went to the first house. The lady there likes me, but she is trying to pressure me into taking the house two weeks before I want or need it. I'm not sure I'm biting. The second place I saw from the road, so I retrieved the key 15 minutes away, then went to have a look. Cute, but so small we ladies would require bunk beds to fit. Here's where the whole thing gets a little dicey. I locked the door after checking it all out, put the key in my pocket, then stopped by one more rental sign to check things out. I get back to the property management place, reach in pocket to pull out the key and get...air. And pocket lint. But no key. I scrounged through my car three times, but still no key. I went back to the places I visited (again, 15 minutes away,) no dice.

Now, I don't know what kind tricks the universe likes to play on you, but I think I'm a magnet for them. I mean, come on, if I had used the key, set it down somewhere at home, forgot to return it, then whoops, it's gone. But no, I looked, I locked, I put the key back where I kept it, and drove back to the starting point. And it's gone.

Please tell me I'm not alone in weird occurrences. Surely there's a phenomenon that explains why things like this always happen to me.

Boring me

2007-08-15T21:34:00.000-07:00

My brain usually works pretty well. I always used to have things to write about, but lately it seems someone gave my brain some ADD medication it didn't need. So now I'm all over the place, and I can never stay focused long enough to write anything longer than a paragraph. (Let me take a time out to say that I can't believe I've written this much so far...)

So here's a little brain drain to help me get out everything...maybe something interesting will come of it.

* I've been in Montana all week for a conference, and whatever conception I had off Montana, it did not involve sultry weather. But it's been pretty warm here, into the upper eighties and even nineties. They don't really have a need for air conditionin 90% of the year, so they don't have it. Enter us, on the two weeks of the year when it is needed. Lovely.
* A good solution to Montana heat is jumping in a freezing lake, so that's what we did.
* Through this experience, Cindy and I discovered that we are sorely out of shape. The three square meals they serve us here don't help, since we usually eat less and less frequently at home, depending on our degree of laziness. It's nice having people cook for you, but dag, I'd gain 20 pounds in a matter of months if I lived here.

Thus, my thoughts for the moment. Nothing exciting, but what to do?

Curses! Foiled again!

2007-08-10T15:47:00.000-07:00

I hate it when I have a list of things that need to get done before I leave town, and then I can't get half of them done because of some complication or another. My nice, controllable little world melts away quicker than the Wicked Witch of the West...(What a world, what a world...I'm melting!!) Not much I can do about it though, except grin and thank my lucky starts I had a few less things to do today.

Fun Day Truffle Shuffle

2007-07-20T11:22:00.000-07:00

It's Friday, and I haven't dropped a Truffle Shuffle on you in a while (for those who don't know, I ripped off the idea from this guy, and his list is always much cooler than mine.) In honor of our base's Fun Day, I give you the top ten songs on my iTunes Party Shuffle:

Homecoming, Green Day, American Idiot
Ghost of a Good Thing, Dashboard Confessional, A Mark, A Mission, A Brand, A Scar
Painting, Blindside, Silence
Red Fone, Taylor Sorensen, The Fill EP
A Day Late, Anberlin, Never Take Friendship Personal
Takk..., Sigur Ros, Takk...
So Alive, Ryan Adams, Rock N Roll
Stall Out, Mute Math, Mute Math
Counting 5-4-3-2-1, Thursday, A City By the Light Divided
Stay In the Shade, Jose Gonzalez, Veneer

I'm off to enjoy some Frisbee Golf and maybe even a little Ultimate with my coworkers. Yes, this is on a Friday. Yes, you have permission to be jealous of me and my mandatory once-a-month play day.

"I found God in the waiting room of the children's hospital..."

2007-07-13T11:39:00.000-07:00

I went to my first AA meeeting today. No, I do not have a problem. I went in support of a friend who is trying to get clean and sober. She's still debating on whether or not she wants to go into a program to get help, but at least she agreed to go to a meeting today. It was a little disheartening, because yesterday she was all set to go to the house and get clean, but after a night sleeping on our couch, she changed her mind.

I have to remind myself this is not for me to decide, and making her feel guilty isn't going to help her. She claims she has gotten sober on her own before, but we see where that got her: back living in a tent, stone drunk. Argh. It just makes me angry to watch someone destroy their life. When a 62-year-old makes decisions like a willful child, you know there's a problem.

Anyway, back to the meeting. It was a really diverse group of people: veteran addicts who were finally getting their act together, those who had done time in prison, and girls younger than me who should not have to be facing down their deamons this early in life. You could see some people were genuine, and they were truly getting it. Others were there because they were ordered by the court to attend. There was a decided difference between the two, and really, it made me want to walk around the room and shake people awake: "Do you realize what you are doing here? You're trying to take back your life. Pay attention!"

Finding my voice again

2007-07-10T01:45:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how much you can dig up on the Internets these days. A few days ago, I got to thinking about my college days, and started looking up old friends. Much to my surprise, I found one particular person I haven't spoken to since freshman year. It was odd, seeing a name there in black and white, clicking on a Website and finding the same sharp mind and undeniable talent you knew back then.

I sent an e-mail on a whim, and to my even greater surprise, I got a response. We keep writing back and forth, and oddly, this old friend has brought back some of the spark for writing that I used to have. I think I lost it somewhere along the way, between cynical reporters and dropping everything to run after a cause. I forgot what I do best, and why I do it. I've been struggling to get it back for some time now, and this seemingly random act has brought me full circle. Back to when I loved to write. Back to when I was young and stupid and believed I could do anything.

So K, if you're reading this, thank you for helping me even though you didn't know you were.

Live Ego

2007-07-05T10:36:00.000-07:00

Wow. Somebody has the guts to speak out against Live Earth.

The lead singer of Muse called it "Private Jets for Change." Makes you want to run out and buy a ticket to save the earth doesn't it? Ticket sales for the event have been slow, which indicates to me something I've long suspected: The American public is tired of being snookered. Perhaps we're coming to the realization that making change in the environment isn't about throwing pompous concerts and getting accolades, but making small changes in our everyday life.

We've been studying the book of Matthew at my weekly Bible study. The first half of Matthew 6 deals with how you should pray, fast and give. Not that Live Earth is operating on Biblical principles, but there are some things be drawn from it in a moral sense. There's a common motive in all three examples: Don't do things to get outward recognition, but do them so you will get a reward in heaven. Verse 3 says, "But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing." Sure, the concert will raise money for some fund to stop global warming (Although how many big beuracratic "charities" spend more money paying their chairman than helping the cause the represent?), but how much global warming could have been prevented by NOT having an event where thousands of tons of trash will be produced, thousands of vehicles will drive to said event and celebrity singers will jet in and out, producing more carbon which will be released into the air.

It just irks me to no end that a group of people sat down and put together this whole event without even a thought to the consequences. It shows Al Gore and his cronies to be at the height of ego-tripping arrogance. My advice to anyone who sees through this shallow attempt at recognition? Don't go to Live Earth. Stay home, and make changes in how you live. That is the only way change will take place. Big or small, it all starts with us.

Fourth of July Belly Flop

2007-07-04T23:18:00.000-07:00

I know it's the end of the day, but I couldn't resist putting together a very special July Fourth Truffle Shuffle, mainly inspired by Busy Mom. Just consider it the last belly flop in the pool on this wonderful holiday. It's twice as long since it's a holiday. Download, listen, enjoy. Repeat as needed for patriotic joy-ness.

Jesusland - Ben Folds
Jacksonville - Sufjan Stevens
American Baby - Dave Matthews Band
Moon Over the Freeway - The Ditty bops
Seven Nation Army - White Stripes
Dani California - Red Hot Chilli Peppers
Fat Bottomed Girls - Queen
Chicago - Sufjan Stevens
American Dream - Switchfoot
Halo - Foo Fighters
Signed, Sealed, Delivered - Stevie Wonder
Rusty Old American Dream - David Wilcox
Fireworks - Brave Saint Saturn
The Sound of Silence - Simon & Garfunkel
Beautiful Day - U2
I Need More Love - Robert Randolph
This Colorful World - Eliot Morris
Banana Pancakes - Jack Johnson
Do Miss America - Ryan Adams
American Idiot - Green Day

Addict

2007-07-04T00:51:00.000-07:00

I am addicted to this game. It's simple, it has pretty colors, and soothing music. Do not get started if you do not want to be addicted.

I feel pretty

2007-07-04T00:26:00.000-07:00

There are just some nights when you have the confidence. Tonight, I went out with Mary, Cindy, Rhiannon and Ruth to Frog & Peach. As usual, I was disgusted by all the Poly Dollies (Cal Poly chicks who dress up like whores to go out.) Me, I was in a T-shirt, flip-flops and my lucky hat, which I've had since high school. Anyway, I'm looking at all the girls in tube tops and heels, and I come to a realization - I do not feel the least bit insecure about going out just as I am, and I sort of feel sorry for these girls. Not that I am opposed to dressing up, but what kind of insecurity level must you have to spend two hours getting ready just to get a beer at F&P on a Tuesday?

I think all the the insecurity around me was making me extremely confident, or maybe I was just comfortable in my own skin. At any rate, I struck up a conversation with a cute guy, and while he was too young for me, he was still nice. I was flashing grins at guys to let me past the crowded innards of the bar. And strangely enough, I felt eyes on me in recognition. I still haven't quite deciphered what it all means, but thank the Jesus I am secure in who I am.

Home, sweet home, sweet home, sweet home

2007-06-29T11:28:00.000-07:00

My house is in chaos. Cindy, Cody and I are getting a new roommate, the incorrigible, wonderful Brandon, and that means that we have to have a room swap. Brandon and Cody are taking my room, which is the biggest (sigh), and I am moving into Cody's room. It should be an adventure trying to cram my packrat-ness into a 12x12 box (tiny closet not included).

I was sitting on my floor this morning, packing up the last few bits and bobs into paper bags for the move across the hall, sort of going on autopilot, since the total milage of the move is a total of a couple dozen feet. In the grand scheme of my life, this move is chump change. I started thinking about all the moves I have made in the last ten years, and it comes to somewhere around the neighborhood of 10 to 12. That's right, from college dorms to various apartments and houses, I have moved about 12 times.

I was chatting with my mom on the phone the other day about my possible move to start a new community house later this year, and she was saying how thankful she was that she wasn't going to be around when I moved this time. I started to protest that I have moved on my own, but then I checked myself. Leave it to my elephant memory to forget that my mother has helped in at least half of those moves. One in particular that I remember (and I'm sure my mom will never forget!) involved climbing two sets of long stairs to get to my new third story apartment. My mother claimed she would never move me again. Not that I blame her. I don't like to move me. My aforementioned affinity for stuff makes it slow goings to move.

I've gotten more efficient at packing over the years, though, which helps. You learn what needs to be organized, and what can be thrown into so many plastic grocery sacks until you can sort through it at a later date. Start packing in advance. A promised pizza dinner goes a long way to convincing your guy friends to help you move your stuff. Keep track of important papers. No, really. Start packing well in advance. Be prepared to shell out a small fortune just to get started in a new place, particularly when your last roommate owned all of the dinnerware, cooking utensils, media equipment, etc.

It can all be very daunting. But when you finally sit on your new couch and start making plans to enjoy your new neighborhood, I think it's worth it.

Welcome back...

2007-06-19T23:12:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, I lived in Nashville, Tenn., and I was a happy girl. I used to meet with a bunch of sound guys and random folks at the Flying Saucer in Nashville every Monday. Beers would be drank, life would be hashed out. It was a motley crew, to be sure, but it was full of life and liveliness, and I loved it. And then I had to leave. If there was one thing I miss about Nashville, it would probably be those Monday nights at the Saucer, because I knew people were being real, and we were a community. When i left, I felt like a piece of me was going away. I have wanted those times back so badly. I've thought about them often since I've moved here, wondering when the moment would come - that moment when I find the life in a place that makes me want to stay.

I found it tonight on the porch. I went to some friends' house, where they have a Bible study on the porch of their apartment complex. The group of people assembled there was one of the most diverse I've been a part of since I've moved to the Central Coast. The porch held marginal Catholics, strong believers, questioners, those jaded by the church - even a so-called missionary, although she lives in the States. ;0) We all shared a few beers and discussed the Bible. Sometimes loudly, other times with quiet conviction. There were moments of questioning, wondering how God can be so wrathful...and gracious. Emotions ran the gamut, but I can say without a doubt all of us walked away a little closer to God than when we came in. It was the most honest time I've had since moving here, and I appreciated it so deeply, I can't even describe. I felt as if I got back my Saucer nights and then some. Welcome back, life! I've missed you.

Born and bred

2007-06-11T12:08:00.000-07:00

I've been home visiting my family for the last week, and I must say that there are aspects of the South that I miss. My mother and I had lunch today with a lady she has been friends with since college. Probably one of her first adult friendships, actually, those friendships that go beyond the childish bonds of who went to school with, and who was at church. The two of them have drifted in and out of contact over the years, but when they get together, it's as if they never quit being friends. This lady is quintessentially Southern...and Greek, for that matter. That comes with living near the ocean. She has a self-deprecating, homespun humor that had me laughing the whole time we were at lunch.

I like the idea of Southern friendships. They are comfortable and warm, and usually come about because we are willing to open up our lives to each other more quickly than in other places in the country. It is our open-ness that defines us and draws us closer. Of course, we have our moments. A well placed "Bless your heart," is enough to put someone in their place in a nanosecond...or longer, depending on what type of Southerner has spoken it. These things can take time, you know, when words pour out like molasses. Heh... sometimes I don't wonder if we are more like the Pringles of Anne of Avonlea fame: "The Pringles have always quarreled a great deal among themselves. But we're always polite in public."

Out of my time home, I have decided that the Southern wisdom and tradition of friendship needs to be preserved in some way. I'm thinking of writing a book of sorts, with quotes, short stories, maybe even some recipes. Because what is a Southern woman without her recipes? I don't live here anymore, but since I've moved away, I feel like I have gained some perspective. I'm one foot in, and one foot out, making the it the perfect observation deck to take in all the rare and wonderful gems of the Southern lexicon.

A funny thing happened...

2007-05-25T00:57:00.000-07:00

So, I was standing in the Minneapolis airport, and I hear a little voice filter through the fog of 36 hours of travel:

"NPR. I hate NPR. I want to take NPR and throw it in the trash."

I heard this, and I thought, "Mary would be appalled."

Apparently, her mommy only listened to NPR in the car, which annoyed this little girl to no end. The funny thing was, the mom TOTALLY looked like an NPR Mom, complete with shoulder length bob haircut, long-sleeve T-shirt probably purchased from REI, and dark khaki walking shorts. Then NPR Dad arrived, with khaki pants and some sort of green safari shirt with sleeves that roll up and button. Poor kid. She was seven, and she already knew her parents were those parents; the ones who send nutritious snacks instead of cupcakes to class for birthday parties, and believes toy guns are evil incarnate. I broke in at this point and told the little girl that I didn't like the news at her age either, but that I did now. I told her it was important to know about the world, because then you can help people. I think she bought it, because she liked the idea that I had been to Africa.

And I know that the tag says this post was written sometime after midnight the day I returned. I can't sleep because my head is stuffed with snot, and my ears never quite popped after we landed in San Jose. Which makes for a lousy evening.

Over and out

2007-05-01T22:58:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm out. I leave for Rwanda tomorrow morning, and I'll be gone for three weeks. Wish me luck, and pray for me while I'm gone!

A Nate Update

2007-04-26T10:28:00.000-07:00

I forgot to call Nate, the homeless guy who came to our family dinner last week, until the last minute. But I decided it was still better to call and check on him and be late, than to not check on him at all. When he answered the phone, he said, "Guess what? I'm in Ohio!" That had me grinning from ear to ear. He said he had driven cross country with only a little car trouble, and he was back living with his mom. And I knew that was exactly where he's supposed to be. I signed off with a promise to call him after my return from Rwanda (where I am headed in six days...YIKES!) and got off the phone contemplating all God has done for this man in the last few weeks.

Going from homeless to having a home, going to a place where he can safely lower his blood pressure, back to a place where church matters. All Jesus' work through a couple of willing vessels.

A postie for the folksies

2007-04-26T10:23:00.000-07:00

OK all you Alabama and Tennessee people who have been wondering where it is that I live, here it is. Chez Oceano, home of me, Cindy and Cody, along with whoever shows up at our door. A few mornings ago it was Bert, a homeless guy who knows a lot about flowers and Shakespeare. Last night, it was a random variety of friends for Family Dinner. With that, I give you...my home, in all it's technicolor glory:

This is my room...in a decidedly clean state. Don't even think that this is normal. Because we all know it's not.

This is my kitchen with super-sticky cabinets, uneven countertops and sometimes-working stove (If you knock it just right...). The girls in the photo are superheroes Katie and Crystal, who helped us clean our house when we first moved in.

And finally, our living room, which is often filled with people. Most of the things you see here were given to us, or bought very cheaply. We now have a world map on the wall, and a picture of New York.

So there you go. Click the comment button below and leave me a message if you want!

Truffle Shuffle

2007-04-23T18:57:00.000-07:00

I stole this idea from this cool guy Newton Dominey who lives back in Nashville and makes good music. With that premise aside, I present my Monday Truffle Shuffle! (the first ten songs to scroll through in iTunes Party Shuffle....great fun....).

Evaline by Nickel Creek
Yesterday Tomorrow by Denison Witmer
The Simple Life by Sherwood
Your Redneck Past by Ben Folds
When in Rome by Nickel Creek
Cuckoo Spitting Blood by Anathallo
I Will Try by Eliot Morris
At the Cross by Hillsong
One Last "Woo-Hoo!" for the Pullman by Sufjan Stevens
Down Towards the Healing by Lovedrug

Hands and feet

2007-04-19T10:07:00.000-07:00

Every Wednesday, my house hosts a dinner for friends in the community. As of late, it's been getting sort of clique-y. Everyone who comes has been coming basically since the beginning, and by the end of the night, they get really loud and boisterous. Which is fine, until you remember we do this for ministry purposes, and any outsiders who might join our group are intimidated by the crazy group that assembles in our living room. (/end rant)

That being said, I am really happy to say that Nate, the guy we met at the pier on Monday, came to Family Dinner last night! We filled him up with spaghetti (not my recipe, my friend Mary's) and salad from our garden and strawberry/rhubarb pie. He talked trucks with Cody and at the end of the night, we prayed that his blood pressure would go down so he could stay and work. If he doesn't, he's going back to Ohio to be with his mom. Which, when I think about it, isn't such a bad idea, since he is currently living on the beach. What's a little snow when you're homeless, right? But he wants to stay here, so we prayed that God would heal him. We sent him on his way with the leftover spaghetti (there was just enough for one serving, wouldn't you know?) and promises to call later this week and see how his blood pressure is doing.

And me? I feel as if I'm really living, for the first time in a long time. I'm doing something so practical, anyone could do it, but something so deeply spiritual I can't describe it. All those years of talking about being Jesus' hands and feet...only now am I actually living it out.

The way back

2007-04-17T12:00:00.000-07:00

Sometimes one little decision can change the course of our life, but more often than not it's a series of choices that lead us to our current position. Yesterday, a group of us went out to talk to people around the Pismo Beach pier. When we got there, my friend Val immediately points and says, "I want to talk to THAT guy." She was pointing to a large black man sitting near the end of the boardwalk. I was thinking, 'This will last about five seconds while he chews our heads off for talking to him about God.' I couldn't have been more wrong. Nate was a big teddy bear of a guy who was terribly lonely.

At first, he brushed us off, saying he respected all religions, that his momma back in Ohio went to church, etc. Then Val dropped the bomb: "Out of all the people here, I felt like God was telling me to come talk to you." "Really?" was the response. Val asked if there was anything crazy going on in his life, and man, it was like someone turned on the water faucet. He began to gush out his sorrows: he has a job, but right now he's on 'vacation' because his blood pressure is up and he can't work. Normally he sleeps in a hotel when he's driving the truck for work, but since he's off right now, he's homeless, sleeping on the beach in Avila. He left his son back in Ohio and most of his family. He has a brother here, but doesn't like to mooch. On he went. All these little decisions...all leading him to a bench in Pismo Beach, where he met two girls who combined weigh less than he does, telling him that God loves him, that he is worth something.

Eventually, he took a breath, and we invited him to come to dinner Wednesday night. Jeremy arrived at this point, and offered him a place to sleep. He refused, but there was something in him that wanted to say yes. So I hope I get to meet Nate again, to keep showing him that in spite of all the bad decisions he has made in his life, he's worthy of God's love.

Jesusland

2007-04-12T15:30:00.000-07:00

When I first heard this song, I cringed. I squirmed. But then I started to listen to the words. Prophetic? Ben Folds? Yes, I think so. I try so hard to justify who I am, where I came from, what I do on a regular basis, but the more I read the Bible, the more I can't deny we don't always get it right here in America. And I'm doing what I can to make a change.

If I'm not mistaken, the very large brown house in the middle of the video is the one that sits on Franklin Road in Brentwood.

P.S. If this video makes you angry, then it garnered the proper reaction. What can you do about it? Change your ways.

A familiar sound

2007-03-19T10:07:00.000-07:00

Do you remember music time in kindergarten? The teacher would hand out semi-musical objects of all shapes and sizes. Some got sticks (actually most got sticks in Alabama because they were the cheapest...), and if you were lucky, you got a toy drum or the ever-coveted triangle. *cue chorus of angels* And there was this one instrument that was a hollowed out piece of wood with a handle on it that you would hit with a stick. It made a hollow, clear sound, and it was always my favorite...if I couldn't have the triangle.

Well, I'm sitting in my house, and I just heard a tapping that sounded just like that hollowed out instrument. But instead of taking me back to kindergarten, it took me to Southeast Asia. Food vendors on the street will tap on a hollow wooden object to let people know they are coming. Sort of like the ice cream man without "The Entertainer." It struck me as odd to hear such a sound here in suburban California, but there it was, calling me back to other lands.

Now with more melted rock!

2007-03-01T16:42:00.000-08:00

I was in the grocery store yesterday, walking down the cake aisle. I was ready to move on with my three bags of cornbread mix and get home, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw the word 'LAVA.' I don't know about you, but when I see a word like that on the baking aisle, curiosity gets the best of me. I turned back, and sure enough, there was molten lava cake, with requisite chocolatey center. But what really caught me was the banner emblazoned on the front: "Now with 20% more lava!"

Riiiiight.

Wherever the river takes you

2007-02-27T11:14:00.000-08:00

I'm a plan maker, people. I make plans. I set times and I get things done. So imagine my chagrin last Saturday when my plans didn't pan out the way I originally designed them. My friend Kara and I went to L.A. to make an Ikea run. If you don't know what Ikea is, I'm sorry. It's a magical land of joy and wonder...and joyness. It's spectacular! OK, so it's a home furnishingas store. But it also has every household item known to man under one roof. You can't beat that with a stick. Anyway, I had a plan to get there by 11, make my purchases, and be back in San Luis Obispo at 6:30 for sushi.

So, we're on our way to Ikea, and nature calls right around Ventura. We make a quick stop, then head back to the 101. Unfortunately, you can never get back onto the highway the way you got off in the first place (ah, the joys of California) so I started driving through downtown Ventura to the next 101 entrance. Fate intervened a minute later when Kara spotted a used bike shop. Kara is wild about used bikes, so we stopped. K dashed from the car to peruse the cycling goodness. The lady there pulled out a cheap bike, and Kara was contemplating making the purchase so she would have something to ride around Pismo Beach. I figured I had better make sure we had room for it, so I went to the truck to move some things around. Only I didn't have my keys. They were sitting in the driver's seat. WITH THE DOOR LOCKED. So our 10 minute bike stop stretched to an hour and a half.

I was all kinds of ticked off at myself. My plans for the day were shattered to bits. By the time the locksmith came, however, I knew why we had been there. In the parking lot, there was a Fillipino couple handing out drinks and snacks to riders who came through on a charity bike race. Talking to them was as close to Indonesia as I may get for a while. It brought back good memories, talking to the short man with the quiet demeanor and laughing eyes. I saw Kara open up to people from a different culture, which is something new, since she has never been outside the United States. It's all preparation as she gets ready to go to Africa next month. Good times.

The day continued to veer out of reach of my control. All that Ikea goodness took longer to navigate than I expected. then Kara called her friend DC, who met us for sushi. By that point, I knew I had to let go and go where the river took me. Which, with DC, meant Amoeba Music in Hollywood, one of the biggest music stores on the West Coast. We didn't make it back to the Central Coast until 11 at night, but the adventure was well worth it.

Much-needed insomnia

2007-02-19T05:45:00.000-08:00

Normally when my head hits the pillow, I am out cold for the night. Tonight, or rather, last night, I began thinking about Rwanda, where I will be travelling in a few months. I thought about the 800,000 killed there in 1994, mostly by machetes and spears, or by drowning in rivers. That was only in the first three months. Then the counter-attack began, and the only statistics that changed was the tribe doing the killing, and the tribe doing the dying. I thought about the orphans left and those who are permanently maimed, not just physically, but spiritually.

Then I ask, 'Oh God, how could we let this happen?' There will be no sleep for me tonight.

Hey you! Be quiet!

2007-02-13T20:32:00.000-08:00

Silence. Solitude. Two words that DO NOT describe me in any shape or form. Which made today's Silence and Solitude Day a little rough. The object was to spend time talking to God, sitting in silence, journaling, and reading the Bible for five hours. Oh dear Jesus, I prayed, help me out here. I think I did OK, although around 2 o'clock, me, Val and Joel, the speaker for DTS this week, started sauntering toward each other and ended up in conversation. A quick check confirmed that we were all extraverts, obviously in need of "recharging" before plunging into our final hour of silence. I must say that the view, no matter where you stood, was spectacular. There were a couple of spots I would love to hike when I have more time...and when I'm not asked to be quiet for long periods of time.

Landed

2007-01-30T10:10:00.000-08:00

I made it. I landed, crawling on my belly, on the sands of the Western shore. And let me tell you, it is a strange place indeed.

One of the first things my new roommates and I noticed (they're Canadian) is that there are quite a few socially awkward people living in the Central Coast of California. Even when you've been introduced by someone you have in common, they don't know what to say, so they sort of gawk at you awkwardly while you try to drum up something to say. Very nice. I guess in Nashville, it's all about who you know, so you never miss the opportunity to meet people.

Second, I may be in the running for the Sketchiest Neighbors title....although it will be a tough race since Rachel over at Charming Accounts of Tediousness lived next door to a pervert/swinger/sketchwad landlord. Nevermind. I'm a distant second. But so far the neighbors have stared at us creepily through their blinds, and sat with one foot hanging out the door frame, but not actually on the porch. There are lots of toys in the front yard, but no signs of children. Oh, and imagine my surprise when I opened the curtains on my window, and there on the fence sat this creepy plastic pony covered in grime. It was a gray day, and there was definitely a "Watcher in the Woods" vibe.

The house we're living in leaves a lot to be desired, and it cost us a lot more than a house in that condition should, but that's the Central Coast for you. You could invest in a beach shack, and the rent would still be over $800. I'm just happy to be here, and happy to get started in the ministry I came to do.

Don't trip

2007-01-23T20:26:00.000-08:00

I tell you what. That was one amazing hole in the ground.

Ugh...snow

2007-01-22T06:40:00.000-08:00

I've made it over halfway across the country to Albuquerque, New Mexico. Yesterday's drive from Dallas was a killer, complete with snow plows, gobs of dirt and stretches of road that were completely iced over. The crazy bit: I didn't slide once.

The road is calling my name

2007-01-17T20:40:00.000-08:00

It's 10:55 p.m., the night before my big move to California. My SUV is loaded down in the garage, complete with bike rack and Big Blue (my Townie) strapped to the back. It's been a good six months living with my folks, but it is definitely time to get on the road.

Tonight we hit Guido's, my favorite Mobile restaurant (it's massively good Italian and seafood; I highly recommend the duck with whiskey sauce.....wait....). Then we came home and my dad, AKA, The PackMaster, started shoving things in my car. Originally, my parents wanted me to look like I was "on vacation," but we all could have predicted how that would turn out. The saddest part of the evening was leaving all my books in their nice little crates for my mom to mail later. The funniest part of the night was watching my dad strap Big Blue to the car. Let's just say that because of his innate packing skills, he likes things to be perfect. So when the bike is strapped and bungeed to the car, it's still not ready. You have turn it upside down to make it even more stable. The re-bungee and strap. Voila! Now the tire is sticking up above the roof. Now what?

So get ready to hear from me this week as I get started on my road trip West. No telling what I might see!

Awakening

2007-01-16T20:42:00.000-08:00

"Awakening" by Switchfoot

Face down with the LA curbside endings
With the ones and zeros.
Downtown was the perfect place to hide.
The first star that I saw last night was a headlight
Of a man-made sky, but man- made never made our dreams collide,
Collide.

Here we are now with the falling sky and the rain,
We're awakening
Here we are now with our desperate youth and the pain,
We're awakening
Maybe it's called ambition, you've been talking in your sleep
About a dream, we're awakening

Last week found me living for nothing but deadlines,
With my dead beat sky but, this town doesn't look the same tonight
These dreams started singing to me out of nowhere
And in all my life I don't know if I've ever felt so alive,
Alive

I want to wake up kicking and screaming
I want to wake up kicking and screaming
I want a heart that I know is beating,
It's beating,
I'm bleeding
I want to wake up kicking and screaming
I want to live like I know what I'm leaving
I want a heart that I know is beating,
It's beating... it's beating...
I'm bleeding

Someone hand me my scepter

2007-01-15T16:35:00.000-08:00

Since when did I become the organizing queen? I am up to my eyeballs in old high school photographs, dishes and newspapers, all in preparation of moving to California. I'm not usually one to put things into nice little coordinated boxes a la Martha Stewart, but I can only fit so much in the Escape, and now my dad is saying he would much rather make it look like I was "on vacation" rather than "The Clampetts." I guess now is as good a time as any to get things into some semblance of order. The biggest revelation so far is that I had boxes tucked away that had nothing in them. Oh wait, add "worth keeping" to that. I opened one box, proceeded to pull out a couple of things I hadn't seen in ages ("Hey! I've been looking for that metal Auburn vanity plate for ages!") and put everything else in the charity pile. Sadly, this is a box I have had since COLLEGE, and I have toted it to about five different houses. And all this time, I could have thrown this stuff away and made room for my kewpie doll collection...

A yarn tale

2006-12-22T07:15:00.000-08:00

Last year, I taught myself to knit. (Yep, ain't I crafty?) I decided that there would be plenty of downtime to whip up some scarves and such. Of course, as soon as we got to sunny, humid Indonesia, I put that stuff away, because who can think about knitting wooly stuff when it's 90 degrees outside.

But now I'm back in the relative cool of the United States - as if it really gets cold in Mobile - and I got the itch to knit again. (I think that was a pun.) Thankfully, I haven't lost my skill. But here's my problem: as of right now, the only thing I know how to make is a scarf, and I'm a little intimidated by the idea of jumping into a grander project. I'm nost scared of the yarn, per se, more like I know that if I get into it and I get frustrated by a sweater sleeve or a mitten thumb, I'll chuck the whole thing out the door and the poor sweater or mitten will remain unknitted. Not to mention losing all the money I would spend on yarn to make such a thing.

So I guess I'll be sticking to the good ole basic scarf for now. Unintimidating, and comforting.

Grinchy girl

2006-12-21T09:34:00.000-08:00

There's something about this year that's making me extremely Grinch-esque about all things Christmas. Not the shopping part, because I can always get down with some shopping. I think it's something to do with the fact that people remove their brain after Thanksgiving and don't put it back in until sometime around New Year's. It's like Attack of the Pod People or something.

On a completely different note, little to nothing has been done to finish seperation of all my stuff. I haven't gotten to the fun part yet, which is going through my stacks of CD's and putting them in their appropriate books. It's always fun to find albums that you haven't listened to in a while, not because you're sick of them, but because they've been buried under a mound of stuff.

Can I just move to California already?

Notes of holiday cheer

2006-12-17T10:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Lady in Hillsboro Village,
Yes, the lady who gabbed on her cell phone while the light was green is a complete moron, but honking your horn for more than 30 seconds probably isn't necessary to alert her to that fact.

Dear Truck Owner who Parked Four Inches from My Bumper,
You deserved the European-style de-parking job I did to your vehicle. And by the way, you were in a no parking zone. I was not.

That's why they call it a dark room

2006-12-14T20:09:00.000-08:00

There's nothing better than listening to my best friend Kara singing off key in her storage closet turned dark room. I think all that darkness has gone to her head.

The buffet is open

2006-12-13T20:30:00.000-08:00

My mother just walked out the front door to yell at the three deer in our front yard that have been eating her pansies. I mean, carrying on a conversation with renegade deer. As if the deer are going to go, "Oh, sorry Mrs. Nelson. We were unaware that you wanted to keep the pansies. We thought they were placed there for our consumption." Funniest. Thing. Ever.

A holiday performance for you

2006-12-12T18:09:00.000-08:00

Don't say I never gave you anything. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

The parting of the stuff

2006-12-11T20:47:00.000-08:00

I have a lot of stuff. For the past few days, I have been going through everything I have collected over my 27 years - which at the moment happily resides in my parents' garage. I find myself laughing over old photographs and memories, all the while swiftly dividing the wheat from the chaff, so to speak. The biggest task was separating my books. Oh my gosh, the books. I had six crates of books, easily, and then I kept finding other books among my other boxes. I've got the number down to about half, mainly of classics with a few contemporary titles thrown in. Of course, it created one of those moments where you start making ridiculous promises that as soon as you get everything set up in your new place, you're going to read some of the more neglected tomes that you forgot you had. Poppycock! Won't happen. But I can still pretend, can't I?

The part of all the moving that bugged me the most was going through large boxes, and finding only two or three items worth keeping. One box in particular has been with me since college, and it's a pretty whopping big box. I retained a total of three items from that container. Which means I have been lugging this huge box from place to place, up three flights of stairs, down to a basement apartment, and all along, I didn't need any of it. Talk about dead weight. Kind of disgusts me to think about it.

In the end, I feel good about releasing myself from some of my "stuff." There's no way I would have fit it in my Ford Escape, but even if I could, would I really need it? I'm starting fresh in California, and there is some baggage, both literal and figurative, that I want to leave behind.

A conversation in heaven

2006-12-09T08:36:00.000-08:00

"It was all a snare. Ink and catgut and paint were necessary down there, but they are also dangerous stimulants. Every poet and musician and artist, but for Grace, is drawn away from love of the thing he tells, to love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell, they cannot be interested in God at all but only in what they say about Him. For it doesn't stop at being interested in paint, you know. They sink lower - become interested in their own personalities and then in nothing but their own reputations."
- C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce

As an artist, do you ever get to this point? It's like you look around, and suddenly you are off center. You've taken to admiring how you write something instead of wondering over the very thing you are writing about. Or you play a piece of music to technical perfection, forgetting that you used to play for the sheer enjoyment and sound an instrument makes, no matter what you sounded like. Thankfully, in moments like that, I shake myself and refocus. I pray I never sink to the point of forgetting where my gifts come from and why I write.

Tree fix

2006-12-01T21:18:00.000-08:00

Could I be any more nerdy? I employed my knowledge watching Neil the Florist decorate our house tree for years, and made the trees (TWO!) at work look pretty. I'm not really artistic, kids, my mom just never lets me decorate the tree at home anymore, so I have to get my thrills elsewhere. The occasion was made even more joyous by one large pre-lit tree. Because who wants to walk away from tree decorating with severe lacerations?

Here's an exchange I had with one of the girls at work while I was decorating a music inspired tree---
Employee doing inventory: Ugh...I can't stand artificial trees.
Me: Well, practically speaking, it's probably best to have a fake one in the office.
Employee: (seeing me wrap lights around the 3-foot tree) Putting lights on the Christmas tree is the worst part. I hate doing that.
Me: Well, that is what's so great about a pre-lit tree.
Employee: But I hate fake trees.

I could see this was going nowhere and quietly backed out of the conversation.

Life abundant

2006-11-27T09:31:00.000-08:00

I was flipping through the television channels yesterday, enjoying the glut of bad holiday movies when I came across A Walk to Remember with Mandy Moore and some other dude. I had heard it was a good movie, so I settled in to watch. Sure, it seems wholesome, but there was one glaring thing that bugged me the whole time I watched it. Mandy Moore's character, who happens to be a Christian, is portrayed as a repressed, mealy-mouthed, bookworm do-gooder who wears shapeless dresses and no makeup. Ew, ew, ew. It made me sick to think that Christians are portrayed in this manner. Not that there aren't plenty of folks who help enforce Hollywood's view of those who put their faith in Christ, but last time I checked, Christ came so that we might have life, and have it more abundantly. So what does it say about Christians when we are portrayed as lifeless? There was one scene that I loved in that movie. The scene where the girl is in the play, and she's got some makeup and a nice dress on for the part she's playing. But it's not about either of those. It's when she gets up and sings a song (a beautiful rendition of Switchfoot's Only Hope.) For a moment, there's a glimmer of what she could be, before it fades back to gray.

Some of the way we're portrayed is our own fault. We have held grudges and acted gracelessly toward those who need grace. We put strictures on ourselves and others, and we make a list of things we should and shouldn't do. It becomes a burden on our shoulders, a weight around our necks. There are things we shouldn't do, but but when we love God, obedience becomes an outpouring of our love. I would love to say A Walk to Remember is a bad representation of Christians, but it's closer to the truth in some than I would like to admit.

The most wonderful time of the year

2006-11-24T19:46:00.000-08:00

The day after Thanksgiving free-for-all is over, and now our sights are set on "the most wonderful time of the year." Sadly, the fact that we kick off the season of our Savior's birth with a shopping glutton tells you where the priorites are in our country. In a world where bank buildings outnumber churches, that shouldn't besurprising. It's easy to get caught up in everything and miss the point of the most special time of the year.

As you start pulling out Christmas ornaments and making mulled cider, I want to encourage you to take some time for reflection. Turn OFF the television, curl up in your favorite chair with only the Christmas tree lit, and think about the year. Thank God for the blessings he has given you over the last 12 months, and don't be afraid to ask for direction for the future. Breathe. Think about good times. And remember.

It's great to be a Auburn tigger

2006-11-21T08:15:00.000-08:00

I spent a good portion of Saturday standing next to an 8-year-old at the Auburn game. I taught my young protegee some Auburn cheers and explained the finer points of football to him. It was totally worth it when I saw the note on my desk this morning:

Dear Lauren, Thanks for the cheers. It's great to be a Auburn tigger. I had a fantstic time at the Iron bowl last night. See next time. from Luke

You can't beat that with a stick.

Hooray for pomegranates!

2006-11-14T14:01:00.000-08:00

It's pomegranate season, people! If you're one of the many who have not tried nature's little jewels of wondrousness, get thee to Fresh Market, post haste! But Lauren, you say, I haven’t the foggiest how to attack this odd, red fruit. (My friend, a definite foodie, said this to me just the other night.)

Well, I'm here to help. I have only recently discovered them myself, and I looked them up on the Internet to see how to attack. I found various methods, but I liked this one best:

1. Cut out the spiky top.
2. If you look at the pomegranate from the top, it has the vague shape of a stop sign. Make a 1/4 inch cut between each set of "corners" from the top to the base, making sections, like you would do an orange.
3. Stick your thumbs into the hole on top, and pull apart the sections.
4. Carefully (the juice stains) break off the red arils, or seeds, into a bowl.
5. Eat them by the handful, and as an extra treat, refrigerate them before eating.

If you want to get fancy with recipes, go here.

Christmas explosion!!!

2006-11-12T20:12:00.000-08:00

What's the one time of year when people can use enough glitter to choke a horse and spend a ton of money on velvet ribbon? No, not gay Cousin Fred's birthday party...Christmas! And wouldn't you know it, today I got to go with my mom to a local florist, where in the grand tradition of the season, the place got the "Santa threw up on me...now what?" treatment. Every square inch of the store was covered in Christmas decorations, centerpieces, Christmas trees, parachuting Santas, even a mini tree made out of feathers. Yup, feathers.

I must say that my inner goblin was whispering things in my ear, and it was all I could do to hold in the smirks and snickers as women walked toward the counter with nutcrackers made of present boxes and candle arrangements with plastic poinsettias (did I spell that right?) tied to the bottom. Aack! The meaner version of myself wanted to scream, "You're not really going to put that on the dining room table for all your relatives to see, are you?" But I kept my mouth shut, for my mother's sake.

I will say this though: my mom has great taste. She gets her tree decorated by one of the guys at the shop every year, so she had everything picked out all ready and pulled from the shelves in advance. Granted, alone, some of the stuff she picks out looks like ugly on a stick - a glittery mass of twigs with some crystal berries attached - but when it all goes up on the tree and you turn on the lights, it looks great. So, for the ladies in the shop, maybe if they put it at just the right angle under good lighting, the sparkles will outshine that ugly plaid ribbon...

Here's to a happy beginning to another holiday season!

Flush out bad music

2006-11-11T08:32:00.000-08:00

So, apparently someone on ESPN Radio's Dan Patrick Show is into good music. I heard the intro to Anberlin's Paper Thin Hymn on the show the other day. The Anberlin boys aren't what I would call completely obscure, but they aren't in the mainstream either, unless I've missed something on pop radio...which is highly likely. To me, it smacks of what is so prevalent today: anyone, anywhere can get their hands on music that isn't playing on the local rock station.

There's a good and a bad side to this. Good unknown artists have a chance to get recognized, and in places like Nashville, good unsigned bands are everywhere. They deserve a chance to be heard. On the other hand, it also means any schmoe with a computer can flood their music out everywhere. I get at least five add requests a week from bands on Myspace. I sometimes listen out of curiosity, and I would say I'd have to get three weeks' worth of requests to find one that was worth my time. I'm tempted to write every last one of them an e-mail telling them what I think about their so-called music, but I'm too nice to rail about their ca-ca offerings to the music toilet. There's one thing to be said for working to improve your band's sound and developing as artists. Just don't put yourselves out there until someone besides your mom says that you don't blow. In fact, make sure you have at least 100 strangers tell you what you are doing is good before peddling yourself to the public at large, and save me the trouble of deleting you.

Big 100

2006-11-09T14:21:00.001-08:00

Break out the party favors! It's my 100th blog!! Since it took me so long to get to the century mark, I shouldn't feel so proud, but I do!! We're going to devote this one to the soon-ending football season.

Auburn has two games remaining on the regular season schedule, and they are a couple of doozies. Georgia comes to town for the oldest rivlary in the South. 110th meeting takes place Saturday. If you want to know how deep the football runs at Auburn, the school itself has been around for 150. Football came along as soon as there were more students than cows. The second game is the mother of all rivalries, the Iron Bowl, pitting Auburn against the hated snobs at Alabama. Auburn has played little brother for many years, but the Tide has turned so to speak. Alabama has had some heavy NCAA sanctions dropped on them, and they can't get out of the past long enough to hire a coach who will create a new tradition. Well, I take that back. Apparently, their new tradition is losing.

I've discovered that I am becoming a split personality during football season. One side of me is an all-or-nothing sort of fan. I want Auburn to win all their games, every year. I think a lot of Auburn fans are starting to expect wins, which in a way is a good thing. In the past, we haven't been a high-powered program expected to compete at the highest level every season. In fact, when I started at Auburn in 1998, we were downright terrible. By 2001, we were an up-and-comer, beating No. 1 Florida by a field goal and tearing down the goalposts. This year when we upset the Gators, we did no such thing. We knew we could win. On the other hand of this, we're creating a monster if we think we can keep this pace every year in the SEC. I would hate to see us have a couple of down years and fire a very good coach. In a profession like coaching, it's a revolving door. One of the things that can really help a program is stability, a chance to learn the program and get some cohesive properties going.

The other part of me is pure journalist. I'm watching teams with a much more objective eye. Thankfully, I haven't reached the level of cynicism found in some of my older, more bitter coworkers, but I am seeing the chinks in the armour and being more realistic about a team's chances. With this reporter side also comes a mid-season hatred of all things football. Even before Auburn lost to Arkansas, I was fed up with the season. I had read one too many columns, picked out one too many stats. So I left the whole lot for dead for a few days until I had some time to refocus.

So now I take my two personalities into the final games of the year. I think both of them are going to miss the pad popping when it's gone. I suppose I can watch some NFL. *sigh* Now that's a different beast all together...

Another round?

2006-11-02T20:34:00.000-08:00

I was at Wings sports bar in Birmingham tonight for the West Virginia-Louisville game, and some guy comes up and asks what I'm drinking. There's an empty Corona bottle on the bar, but I simple deadpan, 'Water,' crack a smirk, and go back to watching the game. I've been covering volleyball for two days straight and have no desire for witty repartee with strangers at a bar. Does that make me a jerk? Maybe.

The volleyball is over, and tomorrow I move on to Auburn on the second leg of Sports Reporter Road Trip '06. However, I'm thinking of making a side trip. Copeland is playing in Nashville to release their new album tomorrow night, and I'm thinking of driving up for the show. I have the day off, so it's feasible, but then I still have to drive to Auburn Saturday morning early. And with traffic flowing from B'ham to the game in Auburn, it's always a longer trip than you expect. Why, Copeland? Why couldn't you wait two weeks? Oh well...there's always Cornerstone.

Louisville, Nashville, Knoxville, Omerback...

2006-10-29T19:34:00.000-08:00

I've been everywhere, man. I've been everywhere, man. Crossed the deserts bare,
man. I've breathed the mountain air, man. Travel...I've had my share, man. I've
been everywhere.
Thanks for the intro, Johnny. And quite spot on at that...well, at least in the southern portion of the US. I went to Nashville last weekend for a wedding, and Montgomery yesterday for a state volleyball tournament. Then Tuesday night I travel to Pelham for the larger state volleyball tournament. I'll scramble around following various volleyball squads with their crazy chants and time-consuming rituals, and hopefully crown at least one Mobile champion. Friday I have the day off to drive to Auburn for the Arkansas State game on Saturday. I'm debating, but I may drive through Atlanta for some shopping. Never pass up a chance for shopping, I say. Then on to the scintillating football action on Saturday, followed by another three hour trip home. Keep in mind that I am driving all the way to California in two months. I like to think of myself as 'well-travelled,' but maybe 'glutton for punishment' is the more appropriate term.

A quote, Part II

2006-10-13T22:12:00.000-07:00

So, about that quote that I put up earlier...I think I have it figured out. Well, maybe not figured out, but I have grasped some part of it, enough to piece some things together. The beginning of healing for myself, perhaps?

To start, I'll get gut-level honest and say that I don't always feel very wanted. More in a social and opposite-gender sort of way, not so much in a family way. I am loud, opinionated, with a propensity to boss people around, so often I don't feel like I'm at the top of everybody's love list. And I've been damaged because of it. Some of it comes from real childhood hurts, another part from feeling rejected by guys. The rest is just lies that Satan feeds me on top of everything else to keep me from feeling freedom.

In three days' time, I will have been single for four years straight. Sure, I've had a few dates here and there, but never any second dates. If that doesn't add to feeling really great about yourself, I don't know what will. All that to say, within this time, I have been prideful and haughty, trying to tell myself and others that I am OK with being alone. God has revealed this sin in my life. And I've been wrong. In a word, I've been broken.

Which brings me to the quote: "Healing comes to the broken places first." Now that I have admitted where I am and have begun to lay bare everything that has caused this twisted, mangled mess in my life, God can begin the healing process. He will heal those spots where I most need it.

And then, something miraculous will happen. Things that I didn't know needed fixing will start to right themselves. Other places in my heart will strengthen because of the newfound strength of a once-weak place. Healing will come to parts that were not even broken in my mind. I guess ultimately, we are all broken people, no matter what we believe to the contrary. When we acknowledge those places, though, God is able to work and craft us even more closely to His image.

A quote

2006-10-10T09:48:00.000-07:00

"Healing comes to the broken places first." - OneTruth Clothing

This statement comes from a T-shirt. I'm still trying to figure this one out.

My new wheels

2006-10-09T14:17:00.000-07:00

I got a new toy. I can't wait to get off work so I can take it around the block. It reminds me of the blue Footloose bike I had when I was kid. Minus the banana seat. Plus 21 speeds. Feel free to get nostalgic. Just don't drool on my bike.

Does that scooter come in paisley?

2006-10-05T14:46:00.000-07:00

I swear, you can only find something like this in the South. I was driving along Airport Boulevard the other day (AKA the world's largest parking lot), when I turn to my right and see the following sign:

M&S

Four-Wheelers, Go-Carts, and Scooters

Furniture, Home Decor and Silk Flowers

Because Mom always wanted a go-cart to accent the wood panelling in the living room.

Sickly girl groove

2006-09-26T19:44:00.000-07:00

Sickness Day Two. Pulled out the movies today. My brain is feeling less like mush and the sharpness returning. Well, not like it was ever there or anything. Probably should have spent off time focusing on finding an answer to world hunger or other useful items, but just couldn't bring myself to do it. Tomorrow I will rise from my bed and make it to work. It's a bit of a relief. I don't know how people sit around all day in their pajamas. It just makes me even more tired.

Is there such a thing as an automatic band? A group that you know is going to give you a hit no matter what they put out? I think of Red Hot Chilli Peppers and Foo Fighters in that category. They're unique enough not to put out the same thing every album, but they stay within the bounds of what is considered popular. I would put U2 in that category as well, but then we must remember the disaster that was Pop. I dunno. Maybe I'm just predictable. I bought the new Chilli Peppers today, and of course, am jamming out to it as we speak. Flea adds that crazy funk sound, and you can't help but do a little in-chair groove session while you type.

Skull stuffing

2006-09-25T10:30:00.000-07:00

It feels like my head is stuffed with socks this morning. The annual sinus infection has arrived! Really, it's like tax season. You know it's coming, you have to deal with it, but you just pray that somehow you'll get a letter in the mail saying you have received immunity for the year. Oh well. I'm spending the day writing this blog (which I haven't done in ages, except to talk about football) and folding clothes...as you may notice, both of these are not exactly in the category of 'strenuous.'

New topic. It's strange living in Alabama. I forgot how...how...normal it could be. People are so normal, they have jobs at banks and insurance companies. And they wear sensible, no-nonsense clothes. They talk about the local school system and the new house they bought in their nice, stable neighborhood. It's driving me absolutely bonkers. In Nashville, even the lowliest box boy had some dream of being a musician or producer. People met at coffee shops and talked about bands no one has heard of and world issues, even they had normal 9-to-5 jobs. They tussled and tugged with life a little more, and went out on a limb. They wore cool clothes and took risks to get where they were. I miss it so much.

Now, there's nothing wrong with being normal. It would be great to live out a normal life in a little hometown an have a house and raise the kiddies, but I just don't think that's the place where I am called to be. Sometimes I feel like an outsider among the normal people, because they don't take weird and embrace it along with the normal. They think everyone wants to fit in and look like conservative clones. It's just not going to happen. I want to be who I am, and if that scares some people, so be it. Maybe they will learn how to walk a little further from the conventional and discover something new.

This weekend was bonkers

2006-09-18T15:18:00.000-07:00

I spent most of Saturday glued to the couch, minus the couple of pre-game hours I spent at the beach with my buddy DB. We encountered the Beer Nazi at the grocery store, who almost thwarted our efforts to get beer. (I look like I’m under 21? I’m flattered sir. Now give me my damn beer!) With our friend Danimal’s mad channel surfing skills, we viewed no less than eight games between timeouts and commercial breaks. My braaaaaaaaiiiin is frrriiiiiiiied.

Before I get into the weekend’s main event, let me point out Matt Zemek’s Weekly Affirmations. Scroll to the middle of the page and put on your logic hat. Thoz hoo canot spel properlee or or who cain’t put tugether uh compleet sentence nead not appli. http://cfn.scout.com/2/557922.html And he’s right SEC fans, you’ve got to watch the West Coast during OOC play to get a better overview of college football. That should be a new slogan - Be a good SEC fan: Watch Oklahoma get screwed.

Auburn-LSU. Where, where, where do I begin?
1. Freaking crazy defense. I love SEC games like this. I did not love the conservative approach that Auburn and LSU took with the offense. LSU ramped up their efforts late in the fourth, but I think if either team had moved beyond the basic playbook, they could have mustered a little more math in the box score.
2. People are talking about 186 yards vs. 309 yards of total offense, and asking how LSU could have lost on the score board, but won in offensive numbers. The answer lies in the last couple of drives when LSU was in desparation mode. 40-60 yards came from that last-ditch passing effort. Meanwhile, LSU’s running backs came up with 16 yards apiece. You may have no cake!
3. Both calls that were considered controversial in this game were ruled correct by the SEC. The most questionable was a bang-bang play, and could have fallen either way. The fact remains that LSU failed to get things done early on. It’s over and done with, and next year, some other strange happening will add to the oddball legacy that is the Auburn-LSU rivalry.

Florida and Tennessee played a great game Saturday night, but in spite of the win with Chris Leak at the helm, I was much more impressed with the Winn - DeShawn Winn, that is. He’s going to prove to be a problem for teams later in the year.

Oklahoma got messed over by bad instant replay review, but it should have never reached the point where the blown call was an issue. The Sooners blew their lead like a kid with a dollar bill in 7-11.

I think most people can say that they saw the blow up of Notre Dame coming. They struggled with Georgia Tech, they looked flat early against Penn State then woke up. Michigan was ready for this game. I was watching GameDay Saturday morning, and they had Charlie Weis wired up for one of the segments. He’s talking to his players, and one statement he kept using really stood out to me: ‘They think we’re soft. They think we’re soft. Hmm...maybe coach has a crystal ball? But I’ll still be rooting for Notre Dame to beat USC. Because I’m a big fat homer. And I don’t want to see the SEC get left out in the cold on another NC game.

Quick Jabs
An ode to Ole Miss (in haiku form)
You messed up big time
Fire Ed Orgeron right now
Before things get worse

Baby Bowden defeats Daddy Bowden. Use the patented Matt Zemek Logic Chain to figure out stupid it was for Miami to stomp on the Louisville logo. Go.

I figured USC would defeat Nebraska on Saturday, but I didn't figure that USC would look so flat. I can't figure out why people are so high on them. Sure, they have reloaded, but I think they are much more vulnerable than they look. They haven't really played anyone yet. Arkansas is looking haggard after a cloooose game with Vandy. If you believe the theory about needing to play at least three games before you really how a team is going to shake out in the grand scheme of things, then I'd wait a week before passing judgement on USC. Anyone want to take the bet on Oregon, Cal and Notre Dame's chances of handing the Trojans a defeat later in the season? That's a season-ending triple play that could fell the giant. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

Kirk Herbstreit trapped in the booth with the 'Burger Saturday night + snoozer of a game = *$%#!&**.
Speaking of California, the next time GameDay goes that far west, they need to either make special concessions and move the show up one hour, or send an injection of SEC/Ohio State/other rabid fan bases to the site to show those kids how to party.

Update on an SEC player: The much-loved, much-maligned (depending on who you rooted for) David Pollack broke a vertebra in his neck over the weekend. He’s in my thoughts and prayers.

I’m out like Notre Dame in the national title race.

Tuesday Morning College Football Lovefest

2006-09-05T11:23:00.000-07:00

Normally this will be the Monday Morning College Football Lovefest, but it was Labor Day and I'm lazy, so cut me some slack.

On with the rant...
I am tired, tired, tired of listening to the pitter-patter of little feet as media types nationwide run after the USC bandwagon that they fell off of after last season's "Texas Spanking." Most of them have just recovered from their tumble from the Cal cart, and yet they still chase after a team that defeated a MIDDLE-TIER SEC program. If that. Without McFadden to run the ground game, they were struggling to break in a quarterback. The hallmark of SEC play is the running back, and Arkansas' was absent Saturday.

By the way, why in the world didn't Robert and Casey help out Mitch Mustain, who took their spot? The middle of a game is no time to pout like a third-grader who got picked last for kickball. It's about winning as a team, even if you're the third-string QB or the water boy. Everyone has to do their part.

Auburn did just as I predicted: come out looking sluggish, only to wake up in the second half and look like the Auburn they are expected to be. you have to be feeling confident about John Vauhgn after making four of five field goals. Gets rid of last season's bugaboo in Baton Rouge. The offensive line played well, but they had better not pat themselves on the back too quickly. Misissippi State wouldn't be able to take on Wazzu in a head-to-head, but make no mistake, they have a nasty defense, and they'll bring everything they can if they see any kind of weakness.

Even though they won, I am giddy happy about Alabama's performance Saturday. It took a last-second interception to prevent a comeback. Cllllllllassic.

I'm still debating on how I feel about the clock changes. Columnists so far are acting like it's the end of the world that the timer rules have been changed. But like all new things, we change, we adjust. Coaches figure out how to make the most of the time they have. Players trot themselves out on the field a little faster. While everyone is complaining about the shorter games and miscues that have happened so far, there are some pluses. The speedier format gives NFL hopefuls more training on managing the clock. Short games means more football watching for all. Fans can see more games. Better yet, pollsters can see more games. And we want those guys who take the fate of all Division I programs in their hands with a single vote to make the right decisions, right? Am I right? But like I said, I'm not sold on it just yet. I'll wait till seasons end to make that judgement.

Until next week, when there's a little less talk and a lot more action.

Smells like football

2006-08-31T14:53:00.000-07:00

Holy spandex, Batman!! It's time for another football season. I am so geeked for the season, I'm going to watch Mississippi take on South Carolina in a scintillating Thursday-night royal rumble. Se-xy! As long as it's decent competition, though, I don't care. I can't get enough. The smell of fresh cut grass, sweat, hot dogs and contraband liquor, that's my crack in the fall. Even the cynical-est of the cynical can't deny its power. By the way, that award goes to a senior writer in my department. Even if he says it's just a game, I see the twinkle in his eye while he's editing the football-laden pages. You can't deny the draw and drama of football.

My Auburn Tigers have gotten a lot of preseason hype, but I'm loathe to believe anything the media writes...and I'm in the media. I read it, take it for what it's worth, and wait until the season starts so I can get a real idea of what the team looks like. And some of it, you can't predict, which is why I love college football. A couple of bad calls, and a ball bouncing the wrong way, and that's ball game, no matter how good your team has been predicted to be.

Did I mention I'm back writing for a newspaper? As, get this, an intern! About three years too late, but whatever. I'm kind of glad I'm back in the sports game, even if it is only for a few months. Being a sports writer puts you on the inside; the other day I interviewed a top-tier SEC coach, and an athletic director of a major university...in one day. Needless to say, guys drool over my job. Although in my experience, they are less likely to drool over female sports reporters who tread their "turf" and know more about the team than they do. Oh well. I'll just have to find a guy who's only a casual fan: enough interest to want to watch games with me, but not so interested that he feels threatened by my sports knowledge. A musician perhaps?

New and improved

2006-08-19T10:38:00.000-07:00

Thank you, thank you Blogger! For months I have wanted to change some of the colors and fonts on my page, and finally, you give a gift to those of us who are computer challenged. I immediately signed over to Blogger Beta when it popped up on my dashboard, and now I've got a new site with a splash of fancy color. I love it!

Now back to your regularly scheduled blog...

Reason #235

2006-08-17T20:12:00.000-07:00

I love my Mac. I really do. And I found out recently when my laptop decided it didn't like capital letters anymore, that I love the Mac Support office. I don't think I could have been more pleased with the service I received. Of course, there's the mandatory automated voice when you first get on the line, but even that guy is nice. And I only had to press one button and say a couple of words. The wait was less than five minutes, then a nice guy who actually spoke English came on the line. My part was ordered and sent on its way. It arrived overnight. One little glitch. They sent me a desktop keyboard, and I have a laptop. No problem. I talked to another nice guy today, and the correct part is on the way. May even be here tomorrow.

I've dealt with other companies and their support service, and I've never gotten help like I did at Mac. Just one more reason why the extra money you pay for a Mac is worth every cent and then some.

Brain scramble

2006-08-14T09:08:00.000-07:00

Good Monday to you, these are my thoughts for the day. I'm a little bit out of it, but if any of you asks me if I have a case of "The Mondays," I might go over the deep end.

* Have you ever run into someone who breaks so many rules that you were tempted to vote them off the planet? That woman was in line at the bank last week during my lunch break. Problem 1: She was Suburban Mom in her oversized Suburban. Her license plate reads "HLFDZN." Problem 2: She was on her cell phone. In the end, all of this would have been forgivable, until she drove off with pod that transports your money through a tube and into the bank. That's right, drove off with it. I mean, it's one thing to accidentally take a pen when you go, but the whole pod?!?! Being the next one in line, I was at a loss. I don't think they keep spare pods lying around to send to you. So I drive around the building and get in a different, longer line. I was not a happy girl. Then Suburban Mommy reappears, going into a lane that's not open, and attempting to give back the pod. Keep in mind, the lane was closed. By the time she figured out what was going on, I was finished.

* I'm such an iTunes nerd. I was thinking this morning, if I had a soundtrack to my life, what would be on it? That's no easy task. You need a good theme song, something timeless that isn't going to go out of style. It's got to hold some depth. Then the accent songs, at least one instrumental piece, some oldies for flashbacks, a loud, energetic song for the climactic scene, and some unknown bands to round out the indie-quality of the flick. I'm gonna spend some time thinking about this, then come back with a list. I'm open to suggestions, so leave a comment!

you mean they actually have music?

2006-08-04T20:00:00.000-07:00

oh, if you could only see me now. i am currently crouched on the curb in front of the orange beach public library, being so damn literal with my laptop in my lap, stealing some internet waves to power my computer. i scraped my ankle on the sidewalk which feels oh soo good. now that's devotion people.

i was a little worried when i first moved to mobile, that i would be bored to tears for a lack of music and things to do. the last few days have brought some revelations, thank the lord. i got my hair did, which always makes a girl feel good. while i was in the chair, my hairdresser informed me that i should listen to 92 zew, a local radio station i thought was reserved for oldies. apparently the format has changed, and it now sounds something like nashville's lightning 100. now, honestly, there's no way they could match lightning, but anything besides the teenybopper crap that's all over the radio. the first time i turned on the zoo, they were playing death cab for cutie. i was sold. then my hairdresser informs me that there is also a really good music venue downtown called soul kitchen. elliott morris is playing there this month, and g. love rounds out the month. excellent. granted, they still have eighties cover bands, and the velcro pygmies play there, but at least there are some shows worth seeing. the saenger sometimes gets some good shows like nickel creek. so i am beginning to see that while it's no nashville, i can survive mobile for at least six months. no surprise shows at the basement with chris thile playing bach. but i'll survive.

thank heavens for my friend kara, who got me a ticket to the sufjan stevens show in nashville. i will be there. oh yes, i will be there.

I shall not whine

2006-08-04T09:29:00.000-07:00

Umm....I'm going to the beach. Again. For the third time in three weeks. I know, I shouldn't rub it in, but after three weeks out of a regular routine and living out of my suitcase (which I STILL haven't unpacked from California four weeks ago) it gets a little tired. But it is the beach, so...MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I get to go to the beach, and you don't. NYAAA!

Peace.

Wading through fan-dom

2006-08-02T13:19:00.000-07:00

When you're a sports writer, you're supposed to avoid choosing sides. I only covered high school, though, and thereby had secret favorites. Mainly that was due to coaches who gave me good quotes and cooperated whenever there was a story to write. It's easy to like a good story line.

Choosing your pro teams is a sight more mystic and complicated. Sometimes I envy people who grew up in Boston or Atlanta, where they have a handful of teams built in to root for. Living in a non-pro team city does have its perks. You've got an open field. You can put as much (or as little) thought into it as you want. Some people opt to support the nearest team, which is all fine and good...except when you consider that the New Orleans Saints were the teams nearest to Mobile when I was growing up. That's just asking to wear a brown bag on your head.

The first team I ever cheered for was the Atlanta Braves. I know, sounds totally bandwagon, and thus in violation of The Sports Guy's 20 Rules for Being a Sports Fan. But when you throw in the fact that I have watched the Braves since the Dale Murphy Days (capitalized because Dale was the only good thing about that team), it gives legitamacy to my sports fan-dom. I still like them, because win or lose, they do a hell of a job getting homegrown talent, most recently Jeff Francoeur and Brian McCann. By the way, if you don't read Bill Simmons, The Sports Guy, you need to. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll go crosseyed trying to figure out his logic.

The other three teams I support came from my move to Nashville. The Titans were a given, considering their underdog status at the time. They've since fizzled and are trying to rebuild off of an atrociously bad decision to stack the cap a couple of years ago in order to get a ring before Steve McNair's knees ground down to a pile of white dust. But I'll keep supporting them, no matter what. Although I am waiting for the news that Pacman Jones has knocked over a convenience store.

I have never been a hockey follower, but after I heard owner Craig Leipold talk about how he wanted to build up the Nashville Predators over a period of time, I was impressed. Even before the new NHL, Leipold said he refused to go out and get big stars just to be super competitive right away. Instead, he opted to build talent from within and stay within a modest budget. Then after the strike, when the Preds finally had the money and opportunity to go snag a big fish, they didn't mamby pamby around, they got the biggest fish they could find in Paul Kariya. Leipold and Co. pushed the family atmosphere of Nashville and the chance to be the biggest star on a little team. Bingo.

My NBA team, the Memphis Grizzlies, was adopted after my buddy Matty took me to a game. Matty is a video guy for the Grizz, and his enthusiasm had me convinced. My English Premier League team (which I picked while living in England) also came from a friend. I watched some Liverpool games with my Brit friend Hannah, and I was sold.

Now I'm faced with a bit of a dilemna. I'm moving to the West Coast. I'm thinking about picking up another baseball team to go along with the Braves. I know, sacrilege, but I think a lot of West Coast teams get screwed because no one can stay up that late to watch their games. Plus, I'm within three hours of Los Angeles. I've always liked the Dodgers, but they are in the National League. Maybe the Angels. I know, it's in violation of the Fan Code mentioned above, but I've always been one to break the rules.

Little things mean a lot

2006-08-02T11:12:00.000-07:00

You know how sometimes you make a vow to do something, only to get caught up in something else only a few weeks later? I realized today that I have been sorely amiss when it comes to a decision I made when I was in England. Thanks to one of the speakers at Holmsted, I came to a deeper realization and conviction about our wasteful way of life in the 21st century. I decided then and there that I wanted to clean up my act and try to be more responsible with how I treated the earth.

God never intended the earth to become our own personal trash dump. He wants us to preserve our environment. That's what the Bible is talking about when it says that Adam was to rule over the earth and subdue it. When we think about ruling, often we get images of a world power crushing everything in his or her path, ransacking and raping the earth. *ahem* I'm not even going to go there. But when you really think about what ruling should be, what it truly means to be responsible for the decisions of a nation, or in this case, the entire world, it changes you. Good rulers make good decisions that benefit the whole, even if they are inconvenient and costly of our time and energy. That was the conclusion I drew in England, but of course, now convenience has gotten in the way of that promise.

Then I read this blog today, which got me started thinking about the environment, and how we should relate to it as the church and as humans. I made a decision to get back to doing the little things to save our planet. Starting at the grocery store.

It's like we have ESPN or something

2006-08-02T06:33:00.000-07:00

My Mom just called me. She wanted to make sure I was up for work. Then she says, "I was up praying for you at 3 a.m. The Lord showed me that you are dealing with lonliness and all sorts of things." Which is proof that you can't hide from God...because He'll tell your mother or a friend, and they'll be praying for you.

Reclaiming my life...as if I ever had one

2006-08-01T20:55:00.000-07:00

Today I was reading on a old friend's blog that we spend most of our time viewing life through a screen...whether it's television, computer, whatever. It's completely true, not disagreeing at all. But I think it sparked something inside of me. Since I got back from Indonesia, I have been gorging myself on television and Internet access. I would go so far as to say that I've developed a bit of an addiciton, to the abandonment of everything else I love (writing, reading, studying the Bible, etc.) Part of it is a bit of loneliness, wanting to feel a connection with someone, anyone. My parents spend most of their time at the beach, which leaves me here at home trying to fill that time between work and bed time with something to stave off the loneliness. When I should be embracing the time I have.

So here's the deal. Tomorrow I start reducing my incessant TV and Internet habits. I'm not making any promises my first day out, since I do work in front of a computer for six hours a day. Besides, Project Runway, the one show on TV that I actually set aside time to watch every week, comes on tomorrow. Can't miss that. So we'll start easy. Let the purge begin.

i heart the beach

2006-07-20T19:58:00.000-07:00

all i want to do right now is sit on the swing at my beach house and just stare at the water. sitting there makes me recall summers past where i would sit until late at night, a warm, light breeze wrapping around me so wonderful i would ache with something like longing. what for? at the time, i had no idea. but now i think it was something to the effect of, 'i want to be somewhere i fit, somewhere i make sense to the people around me.'

eight years later, i am much more comfortable in my skin. i like who i am, and what i do, and i am actually living out the adventures i was waiting for all those years ago. i don't think i'm fully understood, especially now that my views have changed beyond the scope of your typical conservative southern family. but i'm okay with not being understood. i'm still working out some things in my own head about what i believe and where i stand. the important thing is always seeking, never settling for a complacent view and striving to know yourself and knowing where god wants you.

Buzzing

2006-07-18T08:15:00.000-07:00

This morning there's a buzzing in my head, and I can't quite get it out. It's like there's a bee that's tapping on all the available surfaces inside. The only thing I can think to do is go by points.

* I was upset the other day when I heard about the tsunami. I can't be certain, but I think it is near one of the villages where we worked on Java. This kid Oki and his dad lived near the ocean, and all I can think of is that they might not have anything left. The Indonesia team that I was a part of has swung into action to figure out a way to get money there. I know the thoughts that came to mind when Anne sent an e-mail suggesting we sendd money directly to YWAM Indo: tent houses that were falling apart, only 10% of the aid money actually getting in the hands of Indonesians. I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do yet in that quarter, but I'm thinking up a plan.

* You know when you do something in your head that sounds so offbeat and quirky, you just do it without thinking about the consequences. I made the mistake of picking out cookies and Goldfish for breakfast. Ugh.

* A friend I made recently rescued a man who was trying to commit suicide by jumping off a bridge. He was just visiting Nashville for the summer, and was scheduled to leave on a flight the next day. He could have called 911 and the guy would have been hauled off to a hospital. But this guy talked him down, got a friend to come pick them up and took him to the hospital, where he waited as long as he could before a doctor explained there was nothing he could do until the guy sobered up. People often talk about being Jesus to people, but this is really living it.

know thy self

2006-07-14T15:00:00.000-07:00

what are you trying to show me god? the last few weeks, i have come to doubt my ability as a writer, but more importantly, my place as a christian. i feel like a shallow representation of myself, and a total phony. the person that i lay before the world, is that me, or is that the public face that i have a tendency to put on so people see me as the good little church girl, the missionary? i pretend to be deep, but am i really? what lies in the path of truth and what is actually the path of truth are two different things. we can follow the one and cross paths with what might be right, but we’ve gotten off the actual trail. inside me, there’s a twisting of skin and flesh and bone going on that’s terribly painful, but i have to face it. i’ve got to shoulder it, right? or maybe not. i’m learning that there’s something sure and certain about releasing your cares into god’s hands.

one thing i am thankful for right now is friends who tell the truth. we get this inaccurate view of ourselves, and we start acting fake. then these incredible friends nail us. and it’s not because they want to rub our faults in our face; on the contrary, we’ve helped them a million times and they only know to do the the same for us, being completely honest and helping us along until we can stand again. we limp along together and beg for god’s mercy on our weakness. and he is more than willing to give it. the more i see of god and the world, the more i know my need for him. and the more i know he needs me in the world to be a beacon for the lost, not some high and mighty lighthouse, though. more like someone with a flashlight, who was stumbling around in the dark and got thrown this lifeline, this beam of light, and has now been charged with helping others find their way out as well.