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Sunday, May 04, 2003 Open Letter to All Clergy When presiding over the communion service, please do not refer to the red stuff as "wine" when it is really just grape juice. It gets my hopes up. Yours Truly, Michaela M. Forbes We Ain't Got No Place to Go...Let's Go To The Punk Rawk Show!
(L-R) Chris, John, Paul, Me, Katy... It has recently occured to me that I haven’t filled you guys in on last Tuesday's crazy action. Now, I realize I could lose some major cool points in the bloggin world for this, but hey, 'tis my life. I make no apologies. The other week, my friend Paul (upside down, in the blue shirt above) asks if I want to come along to a show at King Tut's, a pretty popular venue in Glasgow. “Who’s playing?” “Poison the Well.” Well, to be honest, I’d never heard of them. “What are they like?” “Hardcore.” “Okay, I’ll go.” “Really?” “Sure. Did you ask Katy? We’ve been trying to find a reason to go to King Tut’s….” So, soon enough, a whole load of us at college who have never heard of this band find ourselves shelving out £8 for them. And it was daaaaang good fun. The other week, after camp, my friends and I looked at each other and realized, like it or not, we now have formed a “group”, consisting of myself, Paul, John and Katy. This is by no means exclusive, we usually hang out with other people from our (small) class. But c’mon…there are people you click with. And these are my people. It was encouraging, especially after my “I have no friends” funk the other week. So all of us sign up, along with our friends Chris and Chris, Katy’s friend Catriona, and three of Paul’s friends. And we had a game plan. You know, we aren’t really that hardcore. (Couldn’t have guessed, eh?) So we decided to play the part for the night. For a good couple of hours after classes on Tuesday, we dressed up in our hardcore best, complete with black and purple makeup and ballpoint pen and henna tattoos (including, collectively: a giraffe, a robin, a dagger, 2 fish, and many random designs. I did "Poison 'Da Well" on Katy's arm, along with a "poison" bottle. I attempted a well, but....it ended up looking like something that should not be tattooed on an arm. And we ran out of time to do the dead rat instead. Drat.). We are SO hardcore. Results are shown above. It was a flipping amazing night. King Tuts is tiny, which makes it great. As weird as we looked on the street (John: “I’m gonna get my ass kicked before the end of the night, aren’t I?”) We actually fit right in at the show. I’m not really keen on “screamer” bands, but there’s nothing like blowing your eardrums out, overly-“cool” lighting and stage movements and sweat to take you right back to high school, baby. At the end of the night, Katy and John came to my flat in Edinburgh and we stayed up and talked til 4:30am… Its times like these I know I’ll miss when I’m old, married, and popping out babies. I’m so hardcore. Saturday, May 03, 2003 Marry Me. Now girls...I ask you: Is there ANYTHING cuter than a really hot guy who is great with kids? Especially little girls....I think I've seen more hot dads/uncles/big brothers this month than in my entire life. One of them picking his girl up and swingin her around, making her fly....another playing catch in the park.....another picking flowers with her...... Insert audible sigh here. Friday, May 02, 2003 The new haircut. Its not as lesbian-esque as originally thought. I'm actually thinking I might like it.
My friend Dave says: "Verrry...how you say?...rachel leigh cook in josie and the pussycats" I'm okay with that. Curiosities. 1.) Most flats/apartments full of guys (or, 3 guys and one girl, as in my case) use those little colored magnetic letters on the fridge to write things like: "Beer." or "We like boobies" or "More beer". Not mine. Instead, thanks to one of my flatmates (I don't know who, but I have my suspicions...), ours currently reads: "Eva Peron." WHA?! (Note: Its 10:30 on a Friday....two of the three are already in bed. Eeeesh.) 2.) Today I'm in line at the bank (wow, don't I sound grown up?!) watching the most beautiful little girl. She was beautiful, but a little hyper, running amok while her mom argued something at the teller window. Suddenly, the girl stops, looks at the teenage girl in front of me, intently for a moment, before lifting up her sweater halfway to point to it and announce: "BELLY!!!!!!!!!" How great is that? I wanna be three years old again. Conversation Me: "Is this haircut going to make me look like a lesbian?" My curiously straight male hairdresser: "Naw." The end: LYING JERKFACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (okay, its not THAT bad.......) Thursday, May 01, 2003 Interpretation "I could fancy you. I could totally fancy you." (For non-Brits, "fancy" is a better, and more precise way of saying "LIKE like".) So the question remains. WHAT THE HECK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?! Monday, April 28, 2003 The Me Series, Two In case you were wondering, my first kiss occured on November 17th, 8 days after my 20th birthday, 2001, on....you ready for this....The Poop Deck. I'm not joking. P.S. Tom Sizemore is the most underrated actor in Hollywood. Freakin genius. You'll all be happy to know Chris does not have SARS. :) I'm still coughing my brains out though. I hate finding blogs cooler than mine. This isn't hard, though. Sunday, April 27, 2003 How do you spell "paranoid"? S-A-R-S So GUESS WHAT!? My flatmate just pops his head in to tell me that he's going though to Falkirk to see the doctor. He's been coughing, like me. "Yeah," I say with a chuckle, "maybe you have SARS." "That's what they are checking for." WHAT?! Keep in mind: Chris just came back from vacation in Toronto. "Why are you going now?" (Its Sunday, 10:30pm) "They want to check me tonight." Pause. "Get the hell outta my room!!!!!" (Not that it matters. We spent most of the day together. We live in the same flat. If he has it, I have it.) I *am* actually somewhat worried. So, you can pray for that if you want. Saturday, April 26, 2003 I am not your female dog.
So I'm waiting at the stop light for the little green walking man to light up, in those few seconds when both the man is red and the stoplight. At the stoplight sits a Mercedes. As the light turns, the creepy/gross looking driver (creepy+Mercedes-Benz=drug dealer) gives me a long "look" and pounds on the gas. What the hizzy? Does he think this is impressive? More importantly, does he think I'm gonna go chasing after the car?! (Photo by L. Brandon Stone) The Me Series : One
A lot of my best memories from high school happened at the 24-hour Denny's on 291 in Independence, Missouri. Its a bit of a sacred place for me and my friend Julia....we even try to not go there if we are not with each other. Many a night was spent there: Hashed Browns for me, Smothered, Covered and Doubled for me...she would get some sort of combo meal and order crispy bacon which I would eat since she's veggie. The Bottomless Cup of Coffee always tastes better after midnight, seasoned with heartfelt talks about guys and what we wanted to do with our lives, hopes and dreams and prayers. And no matter what anyone tell you, we did NOT listen to Phil Collins in Julia's car on the way home. Scout's honor*** Michaela (***And by "did not listen" I really mean we reveled in our secret love affair with the balding drummer of Genesis. I can't dance.)  Me.
As a "launch" of sorts to the new "about" page I'm working on, I figure I'll be doing a little series about me...memories and stories and tidbits. I've been doing a lot of writing too, so I may start a page of that stuff, if you're interested and if I have the time. Hope you enjoy. :) Thursday, April 24, 2003 Katy, John and Me. And Charlie the Fish.
Hey. I'm feeling a whole lot better. Thanks so much for your emails and prayers and comments. Yes, even you Meg and Matt. :) Dang I love all you guys! Thanks for continuing to visit. Actually, I had quite the jump in hits since this last post. You must all be telling your friends about my great depressing posts. Keep em comin, folks. I'll be here all week. Don't forget to tip your waitresses. Sunday, April 20, 2003
The Unexpected Post. Disclaimer: If this post shocks you, or you think its too personal....tough. I don't really care. I got out of bed with every intention on going to church. I even dressed up, seeing as its Easter and all. It was a cold and grey morning, much more suited to the Saturday rather than Sunday of the Easter Weekend. But I made my way to church anyway. Somewhere along Marchmont Crescent, my desperate and lonely prayers I’d begun as I walked out the door turned to tears welling up in my eyes and that familiar sick feeling in my stomach. So I kept walking. I ended up making my way through Middle Meadow Walk, towards the city center, til I found myself in a Starbucks I didn’t expect to be open.I had only £1.47 on me and no bank card. I ordered the £1.45 small cup of coffee, and I spill my empty heart onto paper. If I’m being honest, I’ve been out of sorts for probably months now. You had no idea, did you? My relationship with God has become like one of those marriages where the husband lavishes gifts on the wife, but she can’t feel his love. She knows he loves her. Even whispers it to her in the middle of the night, when all is quiet. But she can’t feel it. Or maybe she just can’t believe it. I simply feel worthless. And this is not a plea to sign my comments and tell me how much you love and adore me. I’m simply telling you the truth. Despite the fact that I know this truth is infested with lies. Here’s the deal. I’m always second place. The last time I felt like I was a priority to anyone was November 17th, 2001. And that lasted about a week and a half before I was proven wrong. (Or six months. Depends….) I’m not the first person that anyone calls with news. No one waits in expectation for the nest time they’ll see me, awaiting that heart-skipping-a-beat feeling. No one sits across the table at the coffeeshop, leaning in as close as they can to read as much as possible into eyes that they know they could never hope to be able to fully understand. Because no one wants to. No one makes me mix tapes of songs that remind them of me. No one bought me flowers today. And I know I’m supposed to find my hope and comfort and salvation in Christ alone. But feelings and faith do not always see eye to eye. The Normal Post 1. Tip from a poor college student: Instead of buying the Caramel Machiatto at Starbucks, get a Café Misto (1/2 coffee, 1/2 milk) with a shot of caramel. Its also nearly 1/2 the price. 2. At Starbucks, while putting too much sugar in my coffee (finally! Lent is over!) I caught a glimpse of a crumpled page of high-level algabraic equations in the trash bin. I left quickly before my allergic reaction to math kicked in and thanked the good Lord above that I left all that my first semester of Senior Year when I failed Trig. (I have no regrets. It was simply not meant to be.) 3. This is the second time I’ve seen them…the old – and by old, I mean ancient – Indian couple, walking hand in hand on a Sunday afternoon. 80 years later, a walking (albiet barely) testament to arranged marriages, I’m sure. 4. I blog because I’m too poor for a real hobby, like kayaking. Al is my hero. He fixed my blog. Go visit him at ALZCO. He's got da net smarts. :) The good news: I added an "about me" page there to the left. There isn't too much on it yet The bad news: I have no idea what the hell happened to the bottom of my blog. (Scroll down.) I'm gonna have to get someone with net smarts to fix it. Grrr. Sorry. Saturday, April 19, 2003 The Highlands.
So I’m back. Its been such an amazing/hard/incredible/confusing/good week. The SU camp consisted of 17 ten and eleven year olds, the leaders were all from my youthwork class at college. It was so great to be with some of my best friends…..we actually grew a lot closer over the week. Late nights, after the kids went to bed, we stayed up to play cards and the After Eights Game and have tea and give and get back rubs and watch the Thundercats movie! (Oh man, I miss the Thundercats!) I drove there with Katy and John, two of my best friends from college. We stopped at this amazing little tea shop in Pitlochery and just reveled in the amazing weather. The WHOLE week had the most beautiful weather, actually. Very NON Scotland! And yes, the Highlands are as beautiful as everyone says. We did a hike/game around the Loch and the sun was burning in the upper 70’s…but you could still see snow on the mountains. I miss it already. The kids were mental….but we definitely saw a change in some of them by the end of the week. Yesterday, me and John and Katy took our time travelling back. We stayed in Aviemore (where the camp was) for a while. John has a crazy passion for fishing, so we stopped at a place there and had an hour or so to fly fish. Well, he did. He taught me….though I kinda sucked. Katy knew how but wasn’t too great either. He caught a 3 lb trout and gave it to me and Katy and we split it. I’ll post some pictures of it soon. ;) We ate outside at a pub…these AMAZING burgers….and sat in the sun and talked out all the scary movies we’ve seen. We got ice cream and talked about relationships. We drove to Dundee to John’s flat, where he gutted the fish for us and we talked some more over tea. Katy drove me to the train station, and we only had about 10 minutes to talk. We talked more in depth in that ten minutes than we had all week…despite some good talks. It was surprisingly hard to end the week. I think maybe it was more hard to end that amazing day. But…for a lot of reasons…there is pain mixed with joy and confusion and…… Friday, April 11, 2003
Hey kids.... Just to let you know, I'll be gone all this week, at a youth camp in the north of Scotland. Should be AWESOME!!! So, while I'm gone, you guys go check out some of the groovy blogs I have over there to the right side. (Hint: Go read Cozart's posting of "Beautiful Girl", and his talk about the rain....or some amazing words at Truth Becomes Lies....or Katy's thoughts on looking for light at Fallible.com... Just for a start. Thanks for continuing to visit........ Michaela In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends. - Martin Luther King, Jr Tuesday, April 08, 2003
One thing that has always facinated me is older married couples. I look at all of them and say….what was it that brought these two together all those years ago? What was the spark that they saw in each others eyes? Was that spark ever there? My course tutor, Ken, has a picture of his wife on his desk. Its blown up, just a candid of her. It must be from the early 80s, and she looks all of 20 years old. Her eyes are big, biting her nails, at a luau-type thing….. And today I met her. She’s still very pretty, just older. Straight short hair has replaced long curly hair. But her eyes are the same. I have to wonder, when pictures are taken of me….whose desk will today’s picture be sitting on tommorrow? Sunday, April 06, 2003 "The world is an abnormal world. Because of the Fall, it is not what God meant it to be. There are many things in this world which grieve, but we must face them down. We never have the luxury of acting in a merely utopian way. Utopian schemes in this fallen world have always brought tragedy. The Bible is never utopian. Authentically biblical morality, and not a non-Christian and romantic counterfeit, demands that people have our prayers — but not only our prayers. From my own study of Scripture I would say that to refuse to do what I can for those who are under the power of oppressors is nothing less than the failure of Christian love. . . . This is why I am not a pacifist. Pacifism in this poor fallen world in which we live — this lost world — means that we desert the people who need the greatest help." -Francis Schaeffer- [For More...] Is It Right To Fight? The war and Christian thought Giving Up. I understand that excuses mean everything, and that the answers aren’t readily available. I’m sorry that I expect too much from people, and that I give too much of myself away. That’s probably what I’m most sorry about. And I give up. "I am exausted and completely crushed. My groans come from an anguished heart. You know what I long for, Lord, You hear my every sigh." Ps 38:8-9 |
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"In the city you will find that the poor and the broken are often much, much more open to the idea of Gospel grace and much more dedicated to its practical outworkings than you are." (Tim Keller) | |
