Monday, February 28, 2005
Aside from my ravishing good looks and excellent sense of humor, my dear mother has now gifted me with a Flickr Pro account. As if the addiction wasn't bad enough.
Now I get UNLIMTED space and use of Flickr (so, I can add more than 100 photos, and more than the set amount of bandwidth usage...meaning I can stop resizing them all first....) and unlimted sets (having only 3 sets its just annoying).
It's her birthday tommorrow, so make sure to stop her on the street and give her a big kiss. She's a hottie.
In other news, I will soon get back to "real" blogging. In all honesty, the next few weeks are gonna be packed out with work on final term papers and such, but I'll try and be as good to you as possible. To keep you entertained (and for those of you already bored with my Flickr Love), I shall include one of these form info dealies, which has recently been passing around the Aussie constituent (including Amy and Mal) thanks to Tim, from what I gather. I always find them interesting.
Random 10 Albums Semi-Sorta Randomly pulled from my collection:
1. Eva Cassidy - Live at Blues Alley
2. The Normals - A Place Where You Belong
3. The Sundays - Blind
4. Nichole Nordeman - Woven and Spun
5. Indigo Girls - Retrospective
6. Counting Crows - This Desert Life
7. Further Seems Forever - The Moon is Down
8. The Last Five Years - Original Cast Recording
9. The Best of Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington
10. Common Children - Skywire
(Bonus...because there are more than 10 I want to add! And it's my blog, so I CAN. *Insert evil laugh here*)
11. So I Married an Axe Murderer - Soundtrack
12. Sister Hazel - Somewhere More Familiar
13. David Crowder Band - Can You Hear Us?
14. The Postal Service - Give Up
15. Over the Rhine - Ohio
What is the total amount of music files on your computer?
6.27 GB (Not nearly all my CDs have been copied onto files, though...)
The last CD you bought is: Underoath, "They're Only Chasing Safety"
Five songs that you often listen to or that mean a lot to you.
1. James Taylor - "Something in the Way She Moves" (Reminds me of driving in the rain with my mom....)
2. Steven Curtis Chapman - "Speechless" (Was essentially my "theme song" at the time I was busy getting ready to head off to The Doulos...)
3. Underoath - "Some Will Seek Forgiveness, Others Escape" (A recent favorite....an amazing reminder of God's grace and patience and power to change us, in light of our unfaithfulness and sinfulness....)
4. Waterdeep - "I'm Still Here" (Seems like my theme song of these final days here in Scotland....a longtime favorite song, though....)
5. Frou Frou - "Let Go" (Almost five months after first hearing this song, I still cannot stop listening to it....)
(For more of these songs, refer back to the "Music and Memory" post, from my March 19, 2003 archives.)
And as always, feel free to email me at email@example.com. I'm always encouraged by your emails. I got one from a guy named Jason the other day, the College Ministry Facilitator for the Diocese of the Armenian Church of America (Eastern). It was so very encouraging. Thanks, Jason...and Balie...and Christan....and Paul and Sonya.....and all of you lovely people who are so ncouraging to me. You are appreciated more than you can possibly imagine.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
I’m Still Here
by Don Chaffer
I went flying in a dream last night
Whenever I was scared, I took flight
It didn’t seem brave and it didn’t seem right
but it always seemed easier than puttin up a fight
And I’m almost gone
But I’m still here
Tell me a story that’ll make me feel
Something far flung but something real
Something that’s human but not depraved
Somebody endangered, but somebody still saved
When Joshua sat them children down
He said I ain’t no Moses but I ain’t no clown
And I know how that river’s wide
But if you follow me we’ll make it to the other side
And I’m almost there
But I’m still
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Yeah so....I added more photos from today to my Flickr account. Someone once told me it was addicitve, and I didn't understand why that was possible. But it is. What happens is, you start looking at people contacts....and then going to their contacts....and theirs....and so on and so forth. And you flip through, looking for "favorites" to mark, and groups to join and comments to make. It's crazy.
I still have papers to do.
Friday, February 25, 2005
I love it.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Holy Frickin Cow.
It's gonna be AWESOME.
P.S. I finally gave in to "The Man"* and have started using Flickr. (Displayed to your bottom right.) Now me and "The Man"* are gonna go celebrate with lunchtime pizza. Huzzah.
*Not to be confused with "Your Mom".
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
I ended up there on Sunday night. Awesome.
Because I sneezed.
Shut up, stop laughing, it was PAINFUL.
So I'm in the supermarket, sacking my groceries, and I sneeze. Well my left side ribs had been bothering me since Tuesday, and the doc had said it was just a "muscle problem". Well thanks, Captian Obvious. Along with this lovely little sneeze came a lovely little snap, which I both heard and felt. Yeah, that's what I call...the exact opposite of awesome. And it was one of my more painful experiences. Definitely the closest I've come to passing out. But I had groceries to sack, dammit, and I have my priorities.
I managed to get it together, and make it allt he way back out to the car where my flatmate Dave was waiting. I told him what happened, and that I might have to go to the hospital. A call to both my mother (who has broken her ribs before, I needed to know what happens in these circumstances) and to the 24-hr nurses line meant I ended up at the hospital Out-Of-Hours clinic. That doctor was awesome, actually, probably the best I've had under the NHS. He checked EVERYTHING. In the end, he told me two things happened: One, I had (had) a cough fracture in my rib. Two, when I sneezed, one of the inner muscles actually tore. That was the snap I felt. Lovely.
I'm not even really coughing much anymore. Or, hardly. How annoying. It's like my throat has not been informed of the fact I'm not only no longer really sick, but I'm certainly not sick enough to neccessitate violent coughing, causing frature, tearing, and near death experiences.
My cough did not get the memo.
This doc was wonderful enough to give me a shot of anti-inflammatories that helped out almost immediately. So the past two days I've spent mostly in bed, trying to figure out how to turn over without actually further injuring myself. The good news is, between that shot, and the pills (also anti-inflammatories) I'm doing much better. Thanks for asking. :) I'm shooting to be back at work tomorrow. I am no longer walking like an old lady. Making my bed proved to be a somewhat painful experience today. And the sneezes and many of the coughs are still painful, but there's no accompanying SNAPPING, which is good. Other than all that, I'm getting around and doing things okay. But of course I still stayed in bed most of today. Better safe than sorry, my mother said. Better lazy than....lust...ful......yeah, I got nothin.
So, laying in bed leaves little adventure to tell you about. I did have a great talk with Ruth's 85-year-old grandfather for a long while after church on Sunday. I'd love to tell you about that. Maybe I will. Then again, maybe I'll keep it to myself. It was just that nice.
Otherwise....I'm up to FOUR guys that various friends are trying to set me up with. It's kinda funny. It's a huge compliment, of course, that these friends think that I'm a great enough chick to line up with their good/best/friends/aquantances/busboys/flatmates/whathaveyou. Some are of course, looking more positive than others. It does, however, sorta feel like I'm watching a horse race or something, with all my friends (6 in all, since two of them are being recommended by "couple friends") jumping up and down in the stands, cheering on their horses:
"COME ON DOVER! MOVE YER BLOOMIN ASS!"
I envision it somewhat like Eddie Izzard does:
If you listen to a horse race on the radio you cannot tell how many horses are in it, because it’s like some weird drugs vision…..
“And its Cheeseblat, Cheeseblat, Small Incubator, Small Incubator on the outside, Cheeseblat, Small Incubator, LARGE HAIRNET, LARGE HAIRNET, Bit of Fish, Bit of Fish, Small Green Castle….Green….Elephant Banjo Player, Six Ton Dog, SIX TON DOG on the outside, Green Banjo Player, Six Ton Hairnet…Hairnet….fish…cheese….Six Ton Hairnet, Three Banjo Players, One Dog and a Spit.
What they SHOULD be doing is saying…
Brown horse…brown horse….slightly brown horse…black horse on the outside! Black horse, black horse, black horse and brown horse, black horse and brown horse…GREY horse….white horse….grey horse…BLUE HORSE ON THE OUTSIDE, BLUE HORSE FROM MAAAARS!
I figure, with FOUR of them, my chances are fairly good. But so far I'm getting some bad spelling, too much exclamation point usage, too little exclaimation point usage, hatred of phones, general dislike of IM, phobias of email, and my favorite, the acute fear of washing or bathing (ablutophobia).
So I mean, aside from all that, things are looking good.
Wish me luck. I'm cheering on White Horse.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.
(Props to Myles.)
Conversational Table Sharing
I really don’t think I am an easily annoyed person. One thing that does tend to annoy me, however, is when people try and talk to me when I am enjoying my solitude.
Some of the best (and worst) solitude can be found in crowds. Airplanes are the worst place for this annoying issue of people wanting to talk to you. So often, one just wants to grin and bear it and get to your destination. Headphones on, you are usually safe. And for the most part, the other people on the plane are thinking the same thing you are. Unfourtunately, Murphy’s Law says you’ll always sit by that one lady who is intent on a 9 hour conversation.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve met some incredible people on planes. Stuart, for example, between New Jersey and Glasgow, in love with writing, and writing about his love. Helen, too – a large black woman in love with Jesus, and the single most encouraging person I’ve ever known. And Sarah and Jason, two students from Baker College, doing mission work in Malaysia, on their way home. Sarah and I stayed up the whole “night” on the plane, chatting like old friends.
Then there’s the “sharing table” situation.
This happens fairly often to us folk who frequent small café’s, because there are only so many tables to go around. “May I sit here?” is something often heard.
Then, one of two things happen. They either want to talk to you, or they don’t.
If they don’t, you’re sorted. You can both sit and read your paper or edit or essay or smoke your cigarette or drink your coffee or do whatever it is you do.
If they do, it’s hard to tell what could happen.
And so, this happened to me on Saturday.
I was at Indebele again, at my favorite table – next to the radiator, but with a good view out of the window. I’d finished my soup, and went back to the counter to get my pot of tea.
Now, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice this guy when he came in. He was cute, in that incredibly normal kinda way, which tends to be the sorta guy I’m attracted to anyway. Well-dresssed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him putting up a club night poster on the wall with all the posters. I didn’t think much about it. He was just finishing his order and going to sit down when I walked up to the counter.
As I waited to be served (and I drooled over desserts I was determined not to buy), I hear “Excuse me?” behind me. I turn around to see Cute Well-Dressed Guy. “Do you mind if I sit at your table?” he asks. It was quite busy, and so it wasn’t surprising.
“Sure, no problem”, I said, enthusiastically, but not TOO enthusiastically, and I touch his arm like my grandmother does to the grocery baggers when she thanks them. This surprises me. It seems like quite a flirty thing to do – though I’ve never really through about it. Despite my ranting about George’s PA’s and what have you, I’m not really much of a flirt. It’s a gesture I often do to friends, both male and female, but never really to strangers. I decide this makes me either a whorish flirt, or too much like my grandmother. Or perhaps, a whorish grandmother.
It was only after I sat down that I observed there were plenty of other seats – a whole table, in fact – that he could have taken.
So, the first three minutes were awkward. My friends Adam and Peter would have enjoyed it immensely. Or pretended to. They were awkward because neither of us knew if this was going to be a “conversational” table sharing, or not.
Actually, no, that’s not fair. *I* was unsure. Looking back, he certainly wanted this to be a conversational table sharing.
I was (and am still) reading “Bird By Bird” by Anne Lamott, for the third time.
“What’s that you’re reading?” he starts with….
We discussed writing, and what we both do in work, and in hobby. He asks, and I tell him I’m a student in youthwork and theology, who moonlights as a writer. His name is Mark, and he’s a commercial property lawyer who moonlights as a deejay. (The lawyer part I could have guessed. The deejay part, I would not have.) He knew some of the guys from Idlewild, (which only came up because they’re on the cover of The List this week, which was sitting on the table.) We both live in Bruntsfield – I’m on Bruntsfield Gardens, and he’s on Viewforth Gardens. The “theology” part of my “youthwork and theology” is intriguing to him. He separates “religion” from “faith” in a way many evangelicals try to. Oddly enough, he is fascinated with religion and theology, yet doesn’t personally “really believe in anything”.
The topic of Dan Brown books comes up, leading to an overall discussion on the benefits and “unbenefits” of such books – they raise awareness, certainly, but they also speak a lot of falsehood, and people are suckers for anything. This conversation turns to one on world religions, which turns into one on churches and temples, Hinduism, Sihkism, Buddhism. I mentioned my experiences in Thailand and Myanmar, which leads to all sorts of questions from him about my time on the ship, and the places I’d seen. And what IS a missionary ship, anyway?
This world talk goes on for ages, til eventually we get on the topic of music, which is to be expected I guess. He says I’d love Departure Lounge (which I’ve actually heard of, despite not being a part of the Edinburgh club scene at ALL), which he deejays at. The next one isn’t til March 25th, apparently. The posted he’d put up was for Fourcorners – a jazz, funk, and “global beats” club happening in a few weeks.
As we talk, he takes a few minutes to flip through The List, at the Club sections. It is during this that, eyes down, he asks: “So…are you up to anything tonight?”.
It was kinda cute, really.
Oddly enough, I hardly DO ever have anything going on, but that night I had plans for dinner at my friend Benita’s. It relay this info to him. “Hmm…yeah.” He says. It’s hard to tell if he was sincerely disappointed, or if he was just making conversation. “Well, I suppose I should get back to…postering….”
At this point I was heading back to get another pot of tea. “Well then, I won’t ask if you want anything”, I said with a wink and a smile. (Minus the wink.)
“Yeah…”, he smiles, kinda shy. “Thanks, though….”
As he gets up, he reminds me of Departure Lounge. (I have to admit, I'm actually interested in going. I've been told by others it's a great club) I was honestly a little surprised he didn’t ask me to do something later in the week, but then, it makes sense to leave the ball in my court. That or I just completely misread the last hour of conversation, which also could have been the case. And of course, it’s just as well he didn’t, since the guy isn’t a Christian.
“Well, I’ll leave this with you…if you want to pop in….” He gets out a flyer for the Fourcorners night. “You can even use it for a bookmark.” He smiles, and places it on the book. “It’s really good to meet you. Michaela, right?”
“Yep. Mark….what’s your last name, Mark?” I offer the “goodbye” handshake. He takes it. And says his complicated last name which I don’t remember.
“That way, I can tell them I know the deejay, of course," I joke.
Visions of Rob Gordon flash in my head.
“Yep, sure can!.....See you around…..”
Sunday, February 20, 2005
The thing is, I've actually been doing a lot more LIVING than WRITING this week. And I've done a lot more writing on paper than I have on my blog. I keep jotting things down, with the intent on typing them out for you here, but so far I've barely really had the time. I've not been here at the flat much, to be honest. I've been catching up on college stuff. Me and a bunch of guys from college went out on Tuesday. Wednesday I took the afternoon off (in order to see the pound viewing of "Sideways" at the Cameo....A POUND! Every first showing! Every Wednesday! Why didn't I know about this earlier!?...), write some, and did some work that night. Tuesday, after college, I went for eats with Chris, and then stayed at the college til 9 or so in the library. Yesterday was work, and writing, and a night in with my elaborate lamb dinner and a movie, and today was study, writing, meeting folk, and going for dinner at my friend Benita's.
You know what? I've had an ENTIRELY good week. Like, a REALLY good week. Not one bad day! That never happens! It's so refreshing, after being sick for so long, and feeling cooped up in my flat and ready to jump out of my window. God's blessings have been extremely evident this week.
I also attribute this to my finally getting enough sleep. Aside from tonight, and Monday night (due to a phone call from Cameron, that's my defense...) I've gotten to bed at a reasonable hour on a regular basis - despite being in relative constant annoying pain from rather severely yet inexplicably injuring my rib cage on Tuesday night. (Aaron asked if it was a "makeout incident". I said no, but that I'm going to start telling people it is, just because it sounds more interesting.) I even went to bed before 11pm on Wed night, meaning I got eight hours of sleep before college the next day. That CERTAINLY never happens. It helps a lot, I think. And though it's been cold, it's been a lot more sunny, which of course helps my mood enormously.
Anyway, so here are a few photos of the past week, just random stuff. Perhaps tomorrow, I'll type up some of that stuff I have written...if I feel like slacking off those papers I should be getting done....
Peace, Love and Pinot Grigio,
P.S. For those whom I owe emails to, I PROMISE you will get one tomorrow. I have not written back simply because I really haven't been here. You are all still great. Speaking of emails - Balie, where did you GO?!
It doesn't matter WHAT Dani does, she's ALWAYS hot.
Behold! The Creme Egg! I refused to go out that night, until David and Abe promised there would be creme eggs. Then Abe nearly denied me the creme egg. I prevailed. I succeeded in the getting of the creme egg. And there was much rejoicing.
Self-taken photo of/by Abraham. Yep. Looks like a monkey. There is no denying.
Paul and Abraham stole my camera for a while and took a bunch of shots. So one of them too this one. I didn't like it at the time, but on second viewing, it's not so bad. Way to go, Abe. Or Paul.
AJ gets excited about phones.
The best thing about this photo is how inadvertently funny Peter is, in relation to Dani, who is trying to be. Peter actually looks like some sort of cartoon in this photo. Maybe it's just me.
From the bathroom in Indebele (South African cafe), my recent favorite writing haunt.
Tuesday was Superhero Day at college. Some of us Youth Min students decided on our own to start random dress up days. I didn't vote for Superhero Day, but I took the lazy route anyway as Toilet Roll Girl. L-R: My cohort, Chris as Toilet Boy, Fi as Cat Girl, and Paul as that guy with a bullseye on his head, I forget.
Friday, February 18, 2005
The Trinity in Jazz Piano
"Did I tell you about he Dr. John concert?" Allan asked me today at lunch. Allan had asked me if I wanted the extra ticket to the Dr. John show a few weeks back, knowing I have an exceptional taste in jazz music, of course. I wasn't able to go, though, because I went to D.C. instead.
"No! You never did! How was it?"
"Amazing. I can understand the Trinity more, because of his music..."
Allan went on to explain that Dr. John was able to play two different rhythms at the same time, on the piano. He said he could better understand how the Father and the Son were the same, and yet different....different notes, making the same music....
(Never mind that there really shoulda been THREE rhythms, for the analogy to be fully effective, eh? ;) )
Why do we not look for God in the arts? I've been thinking so much about the arts, and Christians in the arts these days, and the fingerprint of God in so many areas of culture. The church once owned and created and produced all of the world's best music. Paintings were worship on canvas, and the best of architecture stood pointing towards the sky, in dedication and reverence and creative passion centred upon a building of worship. Writers wrote not only to better expain the unfathomable grace and love of God, but to allow his Word to be better understood by common man. We forget the first book to come off a printing press was a Bible.
Perhaps the better question is why do we as Christians hide our creativity in our "holy huddles" and God ghetto?
Perhaps we need to change our mindset of ministry and mission.
"It's time for believers to confidently carry their faith with them into the marketplace so that our very culture feels the difference." - Bob Briner (Roaring Lambs)
Thursday, February 17, 2005
I'm sorry about the continual short posts. For days, I've actually sincerely been way too busy (or too tired...) to sit down and tell you about why I've been so busy! Ah, it's been fun, though.
Will tell you about my recent party antics soon!
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
And for more good ol' fashioned fun-timey.....
More Tiny and Mr. Duk!
Because we need more puppet-punching on children's TV shows.
(Later on, when Mr. Duk and Tiny are with Tom Felton [of Harry Potter fame] and Dannii Minogue.)
Duk: We’d like to thank Tom, and also Dannii.
Tiny: Did you have a nice time guys?
Tom (Felton): Yes.
Danni: OK, well we’ve only got one horse (to sit on) so Tom we’re going to give you a baked ham.
Tiny: A baked ham? (Duk hands a fake leg of ham to Tom.)
(Tiny and Duk then sing their song and Tom claps at the end!)
Monday, February 14, 2005
Happy Valentines Day.
"My new pick up line is..
'Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?...Because it looks like you landed on your face.'"
And don't just skim it today.
Let love be genuine.
Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good.
Love one another with brotherly affection.
Out do one another in showing honor.
Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord.
Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.
Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.
Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.
Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.
Live in harmony with one another.
Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly.
Never be conceited.
Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all.
If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.
Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord." To the contrary, "if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head."
Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
In honor of Valentine's Day....
Upon recommendation (thanks to Paul and Sonya), I watched Orange County the other night, only 2 short years after I originally tried to.
And, I mean, I'm not one for celebrity crushes or anything, but I'll make an exception for Colin:
I mean, PLUS, I'd get to have Tom Hanks around for our family Christmases and Thanksgivings and school plays and Little League games.
So, you know, that's a bonus.
P.S. I promise, Cameron, that will be the first and last time I will mention the V-D word today. Hmm, that sounded differently in my head.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Last night, I dreamt that me and my ex-boyfriend Jonathan were on some secret mission to do something. (If I told you, it wouldn't be secret, would it?) And in the dream, after the ladder-climbing and the jumping off cliffs, me and Jon and the group of people we were with walk up over this hill, and the view was this amazing scene of hills and trees in shades of blues and greens that I don't think actually exist. I always knew I dreamt in color, but never before have I woke up with such a vivid memory of the colors. The colors were so bright, and so memorable, that they made me completely forget the rest of the details of the scene. I remember the blues and the greens and the hills, and that was all.
And then my flatmate started banging the doors in the kitchen and living room, and I was not happy.
Well since you asked….
Yes, I DID have a great night!
But FIRST of all, go check out Cameron’s “Philly Trip Part Two”. And if you really need a reason, it’ll tell you more of the part I didn’t get to about the Philly trip. (I could say “yet”, but let’s face it, I may never get back to telling you about it. Especially not now that Cameron already blogged about it.) If you need another reason, there are pictures. And if you need ANOTHER reason, stuff it, I don’t need to go to see it that badly.
Back to my night.
Tonight I took Natalie, one of my Penicuik kids, to a mission focus event at Charlotte Chapel, because George Verwer was speaking. (For those who don’t know, George is the founder of Operation Mobilization – I was a missionary with OM on the Doulos for 18 months, after high school.)Oh, and because Natalie is awesome. It was a really incredible night, actually. I’ve heard George speak at least 3 or 4 times, and this was definitely the most listenable ever! Not that he’s not listenable…he just usually tends to speak on about 18 different topics at once (he says the Bible does that too, and he’s mostly right), and it's hard to keep up. I’ve learned not to take notes. But this was great! He was also at his funniest. I love when he just tells stories. He told us about meeting his wife.
Drena worked behind the counter at some store or something, while he was at Moody Bible College and his first words to her were “I don’t suppose you want to be a missionary, do you?” Which I thought was class. “She didn’t fall in love with me then,” he tells us. On their fist date, he shows up, and says: “I don’t know if anything is gonna to happen between us, but I’m just saying, I’m going to be a missionary, so if you end up with me, you’re probably going to get eaten by cannibals in New Guiena.” I thought that was a pretty smooth line, but George goes on to say: “Yeah, she didn’t fall in love with me that time, either.” Apparently, the third time, he thought he’d go for the ultimate test, so he shows up with all his laundry, refers to Ephesians 5:22 (“Don’t let them read the rest of the chapter, though!”), and asks her to do it. And she did. And she kept doing his laundry for 45 years. Awwww.
Wuv. Twue wuv.
He said it hasn’t been an easy marriage though. “Not long after we got married, she read the rest of Ephesians 5. Then I was in trouble!”
Remind me at some other point to tell you the story that ends in “Thank goodness the elephants don’t fly in this country!” because seriously, that was a funny one.
George also has a new guy each year that works as his personal assistant. If ever there was a job that would be completely crazy, it would be PA to George Verwer. The PA raises all his own support – plane tickets, living expenses, everything – to follow George around the world on speaking engagements. Despite George trying to “slow down”, since retiring as the head of OM last year, he has yet to actually slow down at all, which means about 300 speaking engagements a year, apparently.
The yearly PA guys are, if I remember right, Moody students or grads. And they always manage to be *hot*. Seriously.
When I was on the ship, we hosted the international team leaders meeting in Langkawi. During that week, George, along with Rick Hicks (President of OM USA) hosted a meeting for the USA OMers. At said meeting was George’s then PA, I think his name was Ben. And he was, of course, hot. I managed to finagle my way over to his side of the room, and into the conversation between Ben and a friend of mine. This is exactly how the conversation went:
Ben: “Hey! I’m Ben” *Ben sticks out hand for the handshake. Ben is not only hot, but friendly, and cheery!*
Mic: “Hey, I’m Ben! (*beat*) Michaela! I mean, I’m Michaela! Ha!”*Michaela dies, end scene*
Honestly. That’s the first and last time that has ever happened to me. It was just like a sitcom. He was even wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Shut up, we were on a tropical island and he was still hot. It was not unlike the Friends episodes in Barbados. Ben even kinda looked like Paul Rudd, but with curly hair. And I just made up that Paul Rudd part. I don’t really remember what he looks like, except that he was hot. But the rest was completely true, I said his name and he wore the shirt and everything.
Needless to say, Ben did not fall in love with me.
OK, let me preface this next bit by saying BEFORE the meeting, I saw my former flatmate. He didn’t see me, I didn’t think, but I didn’t turn around again, just in case. This was one of the weird ones, read my old blog entries. Anyway, so I saw him, and REALLY didn’t want to talk to him, because he was kinda weird. A nice guy and stuff, but weird. So when I stand up in the chapel after the meeting, I was glad when he was not within eyesight. Yay! I’ve managed to not talk to Weird Ex-Flatmate!
So I head down to the book table, because OM is great with book tables, they constantly give away free stuff. Plus, Hot PA was staffing the table. Obviously.
So I head downstairs, peruse the books (Is that the second time I’ve used that word on my blog this week? Someone check on that.), and to move in on Hot PA. I strategically place myself at table. He was shouting out the free offers occasionally, and I took him up on one, of course. Then I make my moooooves.
“So you’re Michael?” I say. (Go ahead and say it. Damn, I’m suave.)
“Yeah! Hey, what’s your name?” he asks. “I’m Michaela, nice to meet you… I put out my hand for a handshake.
He shakes the hand. Firm hand shake, always a good sign. I also managed to not say HIS name, which is ironic, because, you know, our names are quite similar. I mean, if I’m gonna mess up ANY names, it would be Michaela and Michael, wouldn’t it? Not BEN. Sheesh. But no, I’ve learned my flirting lesson!
I had the American accent going for me too.
He hands me one of George’s newsletters, and we start chatting. “I was on the Doulos for two years….”
“Oh really? That’s awesome!” (I told you they were cheery.) “Do you know ________” (I forget the name.)
“How about ________”
“No, (DAMMIT, STRIKE TWO!) but I left the ship in 2002, so…”
“Oh, so do you know….”
Other voice from out of nowhere: “Michaela!”
So, not only did I have to speak to Weird Ex-Flatmate, he TOTALLY CRAMPED MY STYLE with Hot PA! FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
I think it was my penance for not wanting to talk to Weird Ex-Flatmate. Had I talked to him earlier in the chapel, this would not have happened. I could have got my mack on and Hot PA and I could have gotten married and moved to Africa and made babies. But NOOOOOOO, there goes all that marrying and African-ing and baby making. All because of the Weird Ex-Flatmate.
A few minutes later, while I’m talking to WEFM, Hot PA shouts that he wanted to see all Youth Leaders (to give them a video). SWEET, I’m in again!
“Oh, that’s me,” I say, and stick out my hand for a video. He gives this funny little smile and shakes my hand again, which completely threw me off, but shut up, it was CUTE! And he was totally flirting! Maybe! Then, of course, he gives me the video. And then, of course, I had to go back to talking to WEFM, because going back to flirting with Hot PA is just plain obvious at that point. But for the record, Hot PA TOTALLY gave me The Look. Just so you know.
For the record, talking to WEFM was pretty good. He seemed somewhat less weird now, but then that could just be because we don’t have to live in the same flat anymore. But it was good to catch up. He tells me he still has one of my quote books that I lent him, which I’d totally forgotten about. (I have several.) But he really enjoys it, so I said he could keep it. Not that I’ll see him again to get the book anyway.
By the time WEFM was done talking to me, Hot PA was busy packing up, and then heading off into the night with George. There went my big chance!
That’s what I get for not being prepared for the joke-handshake. I coulda slipped him my number. And for not wanting to talk to the WEFM, of course.
Afterwards, I’m out at the bus stop, waiting for the number 16 bus. Ireland played Scotland at Murrayfield today (rugby), so the entire town was crazy. This group of guys cross the street, and are joking around and shouting and high-fiving each other (despite the fact they were Scotland supporters, and Scotland lost). As they get closer to where I was standing, I hear one of the guys: “High five!” he says to his friend. Friend high-fives. He jogs a few more steps. “Look! I’m gonna high-five this girl right here!”
Um, is he talking about me?
“Hey! High-five! Come on, put your hand up!”
Yeah, I guess he’s talking to me.
I had about one second to assess this situation.
To high-five stranger, or to not high-five stranger?
I high-fived, of course.
I felt slightly idiotic, but at least I didn’t feel rude or snobby, which was the other option.
Besides, the world needs more high-fives.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Kyle, Jim and Jake, 1999
For some reason, I got the urge tonight to look up (and in typical 2005-style, that means "Google") my friend Kyle. Kyle was one of my best friends in high school and middle school, a super-short Jewish kid, whose dad is a major reformed Judaism scholar. In 8th grade social studies, he sat one seat in front of me, and we used to pass notes through whoever that poor kid was in between us. That year, we were often asked if we were "going out". (Kyle liked me then, and possibly into high school, but as a good Christian girl, I could never date a nominally Jewish guy, even when I was 13.) We managed to get our "library aide" hour together our Senior year, which we routinely ditched for cigars and mexican food at Chevy's. (The Librarians seriously loved us, and would let us out for lunch with simply a call from mothers - mine was usually cool - and so long as we put away about four books.) We took a lot of naps in the back room, too, usually at the request of the librarians. ("Michaela, dear, you look tired. Are you coming down sick? You should take a snooze in the magazine hold.") They were awesome. Kyle and I had tons of fun that semester, let me assure you.
I knew Kyle went to Kansas State University, and had been playing in a band, which is funny, because I don't remember him being in any way musical in high school. Tonight, all I could further ascertain is that he still plays in a band. Has played in and with a few different local Kansas City bands since graduation, actually. I can't decide if this is somewhat sad. Why do people never leave home? Do they even want to? I wonder if Kyle, or the bands he's played with, have attempted this. Several of my high school friends were/are in bands, and good ones at that, and they never got out of Kansas City. For all my searching, however, I could never find his email address.
Not finding that email wasn't nearly as annoying as not remembering my friend Jake's last name.
Jake and I were really close friends for about two years of high school. We had an acting class together, sat together, and always picked each other to partner with for scenes. We were both pretty good actors too, so we were the teacher's pet team (not hard in a class of idiots who took the class thinking it would be the easy GPA booster...even if they were right). Jake was raised in the RLDS ("Reorganized Latter Day Saints") church, and Christianity and such truck was a favorite topic of ours. He was always about thisclose to believing, but couldn't get over the hump of doubt. He asked me to the prom my Junior year, and I turned him down. To this day, I wish I'd have gone with him. He told me he was bisexual after he broke up with his girlfriend Jennifer (which probably fed my choice to not go to prom with him), but I think this had more to do with his confusion over his older brother being gay. He liked me for a long time, and I was never quite sure what to do with that. What does it mean when a bisexual guy likes you? Does that mean I'm masculine? (This has happened to me two or three times, so I don't know what THAT says about me.) He made me laugh much harder than most all my high school friends. Some of my best memories of high school involve Jake.
Jake was by far the best guiarist I've ever known in my life. And I've known a fair number of guitarists. This kid was a 17-year-old Eric Clapton, and I'm not at all, even remotely, joking. I remember hours of phone conversations, him going crazy on the electric in the background, while still talking to me. He was one of those guys who was crazy-brilliant....so brilliant, with so much talent, that it was almost inevitable that it would drive him completely mad.
Senior year, I won the lead role of Annie in our production of "The Miracle Worker". Jake won the role of Captain Keller, which is essentially the male lead, although not opposite me. Jake was sitting behind me that semseter in Psychology class, and we celebrated with our group of friends - all drama/debate nerds - in the back of class by mercilessly mocking our Psychology teacher, who was boinking the French teacher. And he was an idiot. Who am I kidding, we made fun of him all the time, celebration or not. But Jake and I were stoked to be spending the next 8 weeks after school in practice together, reliving our Junior year theatre class. He drove me home after rehearsals in his red Probe, and we'd listen to the Foo Fighters, and sing along to Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody".
And then Jake quit the play.
Jake's excuse then was that he needed to work because he needed the money. If I remember correctly, he was working at a house-cleaning company. The cast was confused as to why he couldn't put the work off for another 4 weeks (we were halfway through rehearsals). I was upset that my friend quit. I suspected, and still suspect, it had more to do with a crowd he was hanging out with more often outside of school, and with drugs and alcohol. But I don't know that for sure.
Jim was the guy that took Jake's place. Jim is an entirely different story. He was about 6 foot tall, and 350lbs. He liked me since freshman year. He twice grabbed my ass. The second time it happened, I pointed a finger at him, got about 3 inches from his face and firmly told him that if he ever did that again, he would live to regret it. I was shaking inside, but it worked. He never touched me again. He wrote poetry in French class, and let me read it. It was actually really good. He was continually heartbroken over watching his father die of a heart attack when he was 12. It was the only reason, he said, that he couldn't believe in God. A loving God would not have allowed his father to die, and most certainly would not have allowed him to die in front of his 12-year-old son. Jim used to ask me out almost weekly in French class. I finally said I'd go out with him if he came with me once to Student Life, my Christian youth group. He refused. Ass grabbing and all, I probably always considered him a friend, even when he was an idiot.
I was pissed off that Jim was the guy who had to carry me (flung over his shoulder) down from a second-story window on stage, on a ladder. In the best of circumstances, this is scary as hell. It is worse when the guy has twice grabbed your ass. Looking back, Jim was probably much more qualified to do so, even if he DID almost drop me on my head several times. He also refrained from the touching of the ass, as far as I can remember. Jake was probably 150lbs or something, I don't know. I think he could carry me down, but it wasn't easy for him. Either way, I'd have preferred Jake to Jim. So this made me even less happy that Jake quit.
Over the course of our Senior year, Jake and I stopped talking, and stopped calling as much. Aside from what I suspect were the enticements of those friends outside of school, his new girlfriend disliked me, I think because she knew he used to like me. (This has happened to me way too much. ) So that'll put a damper on things too.
After graduation, I never heard from him again. My friend Mary and I met up in 2002 to catch up. We were both friends of Jake. She said last she'd heard, he'd been working at KCI Airport, and had a nervous breakdown at work, which resulted in him ripping a phone out of a wall, and him losing his job there. After that, she heard he was moving to Seattle, where his brother was, to pursue music. We always knew he was too brillant to stay sane very long.
And that's all we know. So I thought I should look him up tonight.
And then I realized I couldn't remember Jake's last name.
I still can't. I've been thinking for hours, and I can't remember the last name of one of my closest friends in high school. I can remember the tiniest details of Jake - I remember what his house looked like, what the inside of his car looked like - and I can't remember his last name. If you would have told me five years ago that I'd forget Jake's last name by the year 2005, I'd have looked at you and told you, point-blank, that you were wrong. And yet, here we are, with a Jake with no last name.
Even worse, the picture that comes into my head when I think of him is not one of our good times in the car singing Bohemian Rhapsody or of talking about God in the hallways while we should have been praciticing our parts in The Glass Menagerie for our theatre class. The common memory I associate with him is not a memory at all - it is an imagined picture in my head of him ripping a phone out of a wall at the airport. And I wasn't even there for that.
How many last names of current friends am I gonna forget by 2010?
And where did Jake go?
Friday, February 11, 2005
So today I discovered....
"Tiny and Mr. Duk's Huge Show"
This is seriously pretty much the best British children's program EVER. I can't really begin to describe it, so I'll let the BBC tell you:
Tiny and Mr Duk, who made their names on The Saturday Show, have been allowed back on CBBC with their very own show.
Tiny, the intellectually-challenged giant hamster, and Mr Duk present a brand new game show where they cause their unique brand of chaos.
There are two teams led by captains Joe Pasquale and CBBC's Kirsten O'Brien.
Each team is joined by an unsuspecting celebrity guest whom Tiny and Mr Duk capture at the beginning of each show.
The celebrities are taken to the studios and made to take part in the show which requires them to play games dressed as giant flamingos, throw ridiculous objects at each other and generally put up with the nonsense from these two mad puppets.
Joining Tiny and Mr Duk will be Nora the Scorer who announces the scores and generally adds to the mayhem!
Tiny and Mr Duk's Huge Show is a CBBC production.
Nora the Scorer is a favorite character of mine. She's about 60, overweight, and wears a lot of pink and feathers, and a tiara. Example: "Nora the Scorer, tell us the scores!" "Man United with 9,3,5,321135235 tied with Liverpool 01746135623.....in the last minutes of....." "Nora! Wrong scores!"
Today, the prize given to the winning team was a werewolf.
'And remember, Kirsten, werewolves eat barns, coins, socks and garden peas."
It is my day off.
I have spent an embarrassing amount of time in front of the computer and/or TV today, doing nothing.
I mean, I suppose that’s kinda the point of “days off”, but there are definitely things I needed to do. Like, dishes. And…laundry. And studying. And I just didn’t care. I kinda still don’t. I feel only slightly guilty that I didn’t do anything useful today. One day closer to death, and did I waste it? That sort of thing.
You know when you feel so much that you just stop feeling things? At least, I think that’s what this is, it’s kinda hard to tell. I’m not BAD, I’m just blaaaaaaaaah. I miss home. And I know I write a post about home probably every 3 months or so. (Right? Can someone get me some stats on that?) But I hate to break tradition. So here I go again.
Today was sunny, so that was a plus. But I had no money (and I mean that in it’s truest sense) to go out and enjoy it, and it was too cold to actually stay *outside* and enjoy it. And it’s still February, which means the days are still short. The daylight was gone before I could finish a breath. And then it’s dark again. Some friends of mine have pondered whether we have some sort of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Paul says I need one of those sunlamps. I dunno though. I think that we keep coming up with all these names for all these syndromes and disorders, just to give us some definition….if we can define it, if we can name it, we have some form of control over this thing that we feel has control over us. Which is not to say they aren’t valid or real. But perhaps overused. Sure, Scotland is grey and rainy. But there is a larger reality, and these things combine to make very real issues, larger than the weather.
And I may have mentioned some of these before.
Sorry if I repeat myself.
I miss home. America home. I miss my family, I miss the way Missouri smells. I desperately miss my car, I miss being able to get in it and just keep driving, when I need to.
I hate that my friends – my girl friends, the ones I can call at 2am, and they would be over with Ben and Jerry’s and wine within the hour – I hate that they are so so far away. I hate that it feels like everyone I have a real and authentic connection with lives across the Atlantic. I hate that I just feel like I don’t want to read the Bible, or spend time with God, I just don’t seem to care either way. And I think that’s worse.
But see, half the time, I don’t HATE it. The feeling can’t be as strong as hate. It’s still just…blaaah. I just realize it is part of the problem.
Don’t get me wrong. I am appreciative – very much – of much of my life. I realize that I sound like a complainer. I do love Scotland. It’s a beautiful and amazing place. I’m just ready to leave. I am beyond appreciative of those friends I do have, near or far, who are supporting me as best as they can. (You know who you are.) I am thankful that I am well fed, that I have a nice place to live, that I can get a higher education.
But *knowing* all these things cannot change how I *feel*, which is basically nothing.
I just need to get out of here, honestly.
Five months seems a very long time.
And our Christmas tree is still up. I’m not sure what to think about that.
“Is it so wrong to want a little human contact?!?” --Tracy from "Six Feet Under"
Thursday, February 10, 2005
And when you use my referral, it helps me out.
I dunno about you, but I honestly really want *both* of these.
I'm excited about the new Sproul Bible. And it's ESV!
By the way, be sure and check out Monergism, and Monergism Books. They is good peoples.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
So a few weeks ago, I was investigating the old books that my college library was giving away, and I picked up one of the oldest Christian marriage and relationship books I’ve seen, open it up there to investigate the ancient (yet probably mostly relevant) advice. Out falls a letter, which appears to be nearly as old as the book. It was fascinating. I wasn’t sure whether I should post it, but I’ve blanked the names, and there are really no distinguishing statements to identify the writer. I left most all the misspellings and errors as they were in the letter. The blank is when I couldn't read the words.
1130pm Sunday ‘After the fall’
My Dearest M-
I want to be free, from sin, self, and all disobedient acts. I want to live for God, as long as I live. The “Waiting on God” chapter, “keeping His ways” has left me with no doubt that I must press on. I must not stop or take a second look at the view below.
“We are a thousand miles apart”, you said. If that is so, how come and when did we come apart? No, M-, I believe that we fit together. We were brought together! I want to believe that God will bring us together. “You have my heart-if you want it”, you said to me. You can’t now take it away? See S.of Songs 8:6-7.
Q. Are we out of God’s will? Off the path? Disobedient? Willful? A. Yes, most certainly, without-a-doubt,we, I went way way off!!!
God made many promises, can he brake a promise? Can God change his mind? Yes he can, and does too. So can M- and S- change? Yes they can, and do. We are only fallen people-in a fallen world , sad, but, true. I cannot trust in anything (not even you, M-) but I can trust God. (I cannot trust myself – for that matter either.) God has promised me/us, so many things. Our father , has!!! M-? Have you forgotten them already? Or do the promises no longer count? (Why?) because we broke our promises?!??
That does not seem fair, “life is not fair” some said. I don’t believe that God is anything but righteous and fair. I do know that we can be unrighteous and unfair! I am sorry, M- I can’t say much by way of accepting that our love, our being one – two halfs, belonging – is all over – never, never, never. xxxxx I believe in grace!!! God’s grace (?) – is sufficient in our weakness! (sin)
I do admit to being a little – a lot different from you, in terms of experience and knowledge of life, but our harmony, our compatibility need not be less sure. I believe that you are wounded, deeply hurt, and wounded, please let me help, I love you, M-, and I care, I want to helo, I can help to heal, (you know?) I want to please God, above all else. God’s plan and purpose, to _____ and live in peace. His peace.
“Jesus said, peace I give to you, My peace, not the worlds. M-, I respect your need for the right to choose! (The choice is not S- v. God. No I believe the choice is we fight, don’t let the devil rob us of joy, peace, happiness) We get up, dust ourselves down and fight. I hope I pray that what God brought together, and gracefully gave us, will not be sacrificed on a false alter. An alter which stands for a quick way out, a final and simple change, savage but final and effective.
If God is for us, please don’t choose against us! Let God be God in our relationship, we have got his word. I/we broke ours, I fell and stumbled, I sinned, please don’t cut out my heart, M-, don’t hate me!
I am just a sad pathetic – fool. Human, week, vulnerable. I know that I failed, and blew it! The whole of my world, is of no value, I care not for anyone as much as I care for you, and yet I hurt you so (!?).
(I care for you, so I will let you go. If that is what you want!) I will pray for us and trust in God for us.
You/I am not mindless choiceless robots. I realize that you have a choice. You can choose to go-it-alone, but if God has given you a S-, please take him back, let God work out the details in his time. The Lord, our Father, knows best. I don’t know much but I know this – I love you, M-.
Either I am going crazy or I will not learn! I cannot love without God’s blessing, you are His blessing! If, not, I don’t want to have anything to do with worldly things, all I want is God in fellowship with me. Even though I love you, if God was to say “Give M- up”, I would/will do it.
I will wait for God to speak…
Then I will know, all things work together for good….YES….”I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten, their blood guilt which I have not pardoned, I will pardon! Joel 2:25 & 3:21
Please don’t say it’s over, just because of our disobedience. If we have failed we must repent, and press on. M-, sweet M- again, I say, don’t let Satan rob us of our love, let us be compassionate and forgiving to each other. Let us run from sin, but not from each other, because God has brought us together to destroy that, would be a worse sin, an evil – if God has brought us together we must never part – save to seek his face and I will ----
So many things come to mind when I read this letter. My first thought, honestly, was how flawed this man’s theology was, and how much it affected his relationships and emotions. Goes to show how vitally important theology and doctrine really is in the life of a Christian.
What is your first thought when you read the letter?
And if it’s “Michaela shouldn’t have posted this”, that’s okay too.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
OK, so I'm wondering....
WHY can't I watch my movies at off-shore oil rigs?!
What if I want to go oil rigging?
This upsets me.
In other news, when I was on the bus yesterday, we passed a guy right outside of the city dressed entirely like The Edge from The Joshua Tree era. Hat, suit, guitar case and all.
I'm fairly sure it wasn't really The Edge though.
Monday, February 07, 2005
The One Where Mic, Kirk and Aaron Go To Krispy Kreme.
My gosh, this story is taking forever.
So by the time the ball was done, my feet were actually swollen, they were so wrecked. And this, even when I’d twice taken off my shoes and hidden them. (There were groupings of women all over the room sitting and rubbing their feeting, hiding their shoes in the fabric decorations around the place. When I took mine off and hid mine, an older lady says to me: “Join the club, sister!”) But alas, the night was young, as we’d planned on meeting up with Aaron after midnight, to hit up the closest Krispy Kreme at Dupont Circle. (For those of you who know about Dupont Circle….go ahead and chuckle.) After many complicated phone calls, we finally meet up with Aaron on the escalators at one of the metro stations. It was a kinda surreal moment. Of all my “internet friends”, Aaron is the one who’s face and phone voice never really matched up in my head. So FINALLY putting them together was kinda…weird? But made sense? You know? Of course you don’t, you haven’t talked to him. Never mind.
It was great to hang out with both the guys, and not just because I had a guy on each arm, and not just because my feet were KILLING me and I really needed to lean on them. Besides ALL that, they are both really fun guys.
And then we found out the Krispy Kreme was shut.
NICE JOB, KIRK! WHERE WE GONNA GET DONUTS NOW?! GOSH!!!
Well, as any smart people would do at 2am, we all took the Metro to Kirk’s car and drove out to frickin no-mans-land, where Aaron’s hotel was, which was just down the street from a Krispy Kreme. The good news was that it was open. The bad news was that there were no “HOT AND NOW” donuts. (Man…I come all the way from Scotland…and I get jacked….) But we enjoyed the donuts muchly. Donuts and Dave Barnes in DC….a lovely evening, if I do say so myself. There are some pictures of us at KK that Aaron took, but I have yet to see them. (Helllooooo Aaron. Hook us up with the pictures, yo.
And so, I ended up in bed at 4:30am, after soaking my aching feet, knowing I’d have to be up at 9am to meet Aaron in town to hang out while Kirk was at work. Hey, when you only have a few days in a place, you want to fit in as much as possible.
Oh, and I actually took photos of the blisters on my feet, they were so outrageous. But you don’t want to see those, they’re just for my mother. But then, I haven’t shown her them either. So nevermind.
The next morning, Kirk drove me into a nearby Metro station, where I took the Metro and met Aaron in town. We’d made the genius decision to visit The International Spy Museum. (We originally thought we’d visit a few monuments and such around town, but we ran out of time.)
At the ISM, you buy your tickets for a certain time block. We hadn’t eaten yet, so booked it for 1pm so we could catch lunch.
While we’re waiting in line, we’re looking at the prices, and see that you get a discount for being a part of the “intelligence community”. Now, of course we all know this means like, CIA, FBI, military intel, that kinda stuff. I dared Aaron to tell the chick that he was just really smart, and so deserved to get the discount. I think I told him I’d give him a dollar. He says he’s gonna do it.
So we were at two desks next to each other, ordering our tickets, and the following conversation ensues next to me:
Aaron: “Ummm….I’m actually a member of MENSA…..does that entitle me to the intelligence community discount?”
(*Michaela desperately stifles a laugh*)
Desk Lady: “Yes, it does….Do you have your card, sir?”
(*Michaela thinks: WHAT? That can’t count!*)
Aaron: “Hmm…umm….no, actually….(looking through wallet)….I don’t think I have it with me…”
Desk Lady: “I’m sorry sir, you have to have your card with you.”
Aaron: “No problem! That’s cool….just an adult ticket then….”
(*Mic and Aaron walk away with their tickets*)
Michaela: “That was cheating. MENSA? Not the same as just telling them you’re smart.”
Aaron: “Hey, it almost worked….”
So I cried twice today at the Super Bowl.....
BEFORE THE GAME EVEN STARTED!!!!!
Charlie Daniels and blind kids....damn.....those'll get me EVERY FRICKIN TIME.
Excuse me....I need a tissue......
I'm such a sap.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Seriously kids, I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.
This seedy guy keeps IMing* me every few months, rampantly hitting on me. Each time goes as it did tonight. I was sure I blocked him, but apparently not....
[02:22] vipejc: long time no chat
[02:23] vipejc: did umis me?
[02:23] vipejc: u miss
[02:23] MVDoulos: Hmmm
[02:23] vipejc: be honest
[02:23] MVDoulos: In fact, I totally forget who you are. If I'm being honest. :)
[02:24] vipejc: its nice to know im appreciated lol but i greatly appreciate your honesty
[02:24] MVDoulos: I forget things ALL the time
[02:24] MVDoulos: My own mother, for example
[02:24] vipejc: would u like me to attempt to refresh your memory?
[02:24] vipejc: lol
[02:25] vipejc: nice to know
[02:25] MVDoulos: Yes I think you'll have to, though I have my suspicions
[02:25] vipejc: tis i erick the prince charming who wants to possibly sweep u off your feet
[02:25] MVDoulos: riiiiight
[02:25] vipejc: lol lady im not a perv
[02:26] vipejc: right what?
[02:26] MVDoulos: prince charming
[02:26] vipejc: thats me
[02:26] vipejc: u called?
[02:26] MVDoulos: no, actually...I didn't....
[02:27] vipejc: lol must be my imagination huh
[02:28] vipejc: are u still single?
[02:28] MVDoulos: Yes I am
[02:29] vipejc: u dont know it but i really am a prince charming as proven
[02:30] vipejc: i could type anything so i would prefer that u learn the truth for yourself
[02:30] vipejc: im not here to waste our time
[02:31] MVDoulos: Does this approach usually work for you?
[02:31] vipejc: yes constantly
[02:32] vipejc: if it didnt i wouldnt use it
[02:33] vipejc: love is not a game to me
[02:34] MVDoulos: obviously.
[02:34] MVDoulos: So...
[02:34] MVDoulos: If it works CONSTANTLY...
[02:34] MVDoulos: Why do you keep having to use it?
[02:34] MVDoulos: I mean, wouldn't that mean one lady would want to stick around....
[02:34] MVDoulos: Therefore...you wouldn't have to use it so much?
[02:35] vipejc: this is me
[02:35] vipejc: i am being sincere
[02:35] vipejc: i speak from the heart
[02:37] vipejc: three ladies have fallen madly in love with me during over first phone conversation
[02:37] MVDoulos: Wow. Yes, obviously they were mad.
[02:37] vipejc: they pressure me
[02:37] MVDoulos: And so that's when you break up with them?
[02:37] vipejc: think what u will
[02:37] vipejc: no never
[02:38] vipejc: i am not commited to a single one of them
[02:38] MVDoulos: Obviously.
[02:38] vipejc: i am not a player
[02:38] MVDoulos: Those two sentences don't agree, friend.
[02:38] vipejc: i am not involved with any of these women in a lover capacity
[02:38] MVDoulos: Do you ever ask out REAL women? In REAL life? Not internet life?
[02:39] vipejc: yes
[02:39] MVDoulos: How's that goin for ya?
[02:39] vipejc: not good
[02:40] MVDoulos: <---shocked.
[02:40] vipejc: i cannot find my ms right locally so i am expanding my search globally
[02:40] vipejc: no
[02:40] MVDoulos: Genius.
[02:40] MVDoulos: Do you even know my name?
[02:40] vipejc: no u never disclosed it
[02:40] vipejc: do u remember mine?
[02:41] MVDoulos: Wow, I'm smarter than I thought.
[02:41] MVDoulos: I doubt I ever asked yours.
[02:41] vipejc: actually u did a few times
[02:41] MVDoulos: Hmm. I guess that leaves....me not caring enough to remember, I'm sorry.
[02:41] vipejc: why are u acting foolish
[02:42] MVDoulos: Because you're hitting on me.
[02:42] vipejc: i can undoubtedly put a permanent end to your man search yet u are being distant
[02:42] MVDoulos: Wow.
[02:42] vipejc: lol no im not
[02:42] MVDoulos: Undoubtedly.......
[02:42] vipejc: i am trying to get better aquatinted with u
[02:43] MVDoulos: OK, I'm going to go to bed now. I hope you are successful in your global search for Ms. Right. I'm afraid that I'm Ms. Wrong.
[02:43] vipejc: we dont know that
[02:43] vipejc: only time will tell
[02:44] MVDoulos: "We" might not, but "I" do. And your time is up, I'm sorry. Goodnight!
[02:44] vipejc: its our loss
[02:44] MVDoulos: Indeed. Our. Loss.
[02:44] vipejc: i am the best there is was and ever will be dont believe me then try me
[02:45] vipejc: u are very foolish
[02:45] MVDoulos: lol
[02:45] MVDoulos: Goodnight.
[02:45] vipejc: prince charming knocks and u ignore
[02:45] *** "vipejc" signed off at Sun Feb 06 02:45:26 2005.
....And that's when I blocked him.
I really really wanted someone here to laugh with. It appears these men ACTUALLY exist. It took an awful lot to not be a complete jerk to him. Or carry on for more humor. But I don't have the patience.
*Aaron and I decided that the term "IMing" is horrible. We need to come up with a new name for it. Any suggestions?
Is there ANYONE who still doesn't have Gmail that wants it?
Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org if you do.
I have invites coming out the whazzooo.
It's kinda painful.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Prom for Grown-Ups
Hmmm.Yes. I’m almost through being sick. For the most part, I’m okay. But I still have a good deal of snot, and it likes running down my throat, but only really between the hours of 11pm and 9am, meaning I can get to sleep about 9am. I’m not kidding, each night I’m up coughing more than I have since I was probably 6. Ruth commented that she didn’t think it possible for someone to cough that badly, and that long. (But when you think about it, can someone cough GOODLY? Probably not.) This would maybe be better if I was still really and truly sick, so I could continue to wallow in the misery, but this way, it’s just annoying. It just means I can’t sleep. And that’s not a good thing.
So back to the Ball stuff, even though that was two weeks ago now. Mark is getting anxious at the fact that I haven’t gotten to HIS part yet (see last post’s comments). So I better get on that.
I think we were actually at the ball part. After the fish and chips and Fox News.
Now, Kirk gave me about an hour to get ready. I thought this would be plenty of time. (It takes me maybe 20 minutes to get ready in the morning, for a normal day, if I’m not distracted.) But due to complications derived from my hellish shoes, toenails (the green paint would not have matched) and fake tan (I bailed on that altogether), I was going a little mad. This was also complicated by the fact that random women started showing up at April’s apartment. They’re pretty and probably sing in a worship band somewhere - I don’t know, I didn’t ask. As I’m squeezing myself into my armor for the night, Girl A giggles a bit, and tells me that April said that if she (Girl A) came over a little early (they were all going to a Bible Study later, apparently) that she could see what I’m wearing to the ball, and help me get ready and “live vicariously through my ball experience”. Within minutes of Girl B showing up, Girl B tells me that Girl A called to tell her that if she (Girl B) came over a little early, she ALSO could see what I was wearing to the ball, help me get ready and “live vicariously through my ball experience.”
This made me feel rather famous and/or important.
The girls tell me how jealous they are of me, and how THEY should have had the balls to invite themselves to go with Kirk. Except I’m fairly sure they didn’t say “balls”, because blonde girls on worship teams don’t say those words. But that, too, made me feel famous and/or important.
So Kirk shows up, and we’re both lookin smooth, and after Kirk asks three times: “You ready, Mic?”, we are indeed ready to go.
We drive to the Metro station, where for unknown reasons, there is a large group of high school students waiting around. They all look at me and Kirk, because we’re dressed all fancy like, and whisper. Again, I feel famous. And slightly silly, because we’re this dressy and getting onto the Metro.
As we get closer to the city, though, a few more people board the train, dressed for the ball. Instead of feeling less silly, I think we all just feel silly TOGETHER.
Now, I knew I should not have worn the shoes that I bought. But you know, they were on sale. And they were pretty much the only ones I could find to match. So I was determined to make them work. This was stupid. I realized this quickly, as I was trapsing through the city centre, trying to find the Conference Centre. If I remember correctly, I think we had to go through two security checks on the way in. The second one involving a metal detector. Now, since my ENTIRE bodice was lined with wire for support, of COURSE a girl is gonna set off the metal detector. I handed my bag to the TSA man and he hands it back with a smile and says: “Nice purse.” I must have made a confused look, because he said: “It’s small. Easy for me!” Ah. Right.
So we go in, and find the World’s Largest Coatcheck. Seriously, Kirk and I had never seen anything like it. A kid could get lost in there and have a good time.
We head down the escalators and see a line waiting in front of a big….thing. They are taking photos in front of it. Come to find out, it is photo background for the Inaugural Ball. Like…just like they have at proms. This one was only slightly more “proper”. And patriotic.
I should not have been surprised, then, when we walked into the actual ballroom to see the entire right side lined with photographers and those backgrounds….where you could actually order SETS of your photos. (The one outside was apparently for those with their own cameras.)
Yep, you’re right, kids. This was just like Prom. Except with booze. And two dance floors. And 7500 people. And some really important people. And (slightly) less grinding.
Not long after we arrived, the Prez showed up, said a few words, danced with his wife one of what I’m sure was at least 10 dances that evening, in the different ballrooms. We were standing fairly near the cameras, but no one reported seeing us on TV, dammit.
Kirk and I had a really excellent time. We wished we’d started dancing much earlier in the evening (but then, it took us a while to get enough juice in our system to loosen up….Kirk is hilarious after a few glasses of wine…). We were busy schmoozing our way to the top, however. We spent a good amount of time with Parney and his wife Jaymie. Jaymie was my new Best Friend of the Night, and we had a great time. An increasingly good time the more wine she had, actually. She’s just a lovely woman, and they are a really fun couple.
And now…I’m gonna close this up again tonight, because it’s already long. And its really late here. Or, early.
Don’t worry, Mark….We’re getting to your part soon.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Once in a while, these things happen to me.
So this girl I only know as Balie left a comment on my last post, telling me she likes reading my words. I didn’t recognize her name, so I followed the link to her LiveJournal blog.
Then, a horrible thing happened.
I realized, this girl is way cooler than me.
Or, she’s funnier, at least. Which means she probably is cooler, I just don’t personally know her. Her blog is both funny, and succinct, and that beats the hell out of my blog. She tells good stories, without taking years, like I do. And when she's not trying to be funny, she's just a really good writer. I mean seriously, this is….serious. What happens when people figure this out and go start reading her? I mean, I’ll never get a well-paying job again. My family might disown me, and I most certainly will never find a life-mate. I must make plans to make sure no one ever reads her blog.
And she's the only blogger I've known to ever post about Pillsbury Orange Rolls, which are one of my all-time favorite foods, but I shouldn't tell you that, because it will reveal how far back on her blog I've actually read, which is somewhat embarrassing. (I never EVER go back and read people's archives. EVER.)
Oh, and she's an amazing photographer.
Crap, now I sound like a stalker.
In other news…I’ve gotten to that point, again. The point at which I am in the middle of some grand (usually travel) story, and I still have much to tell, but its taking so long that even *I* get bored with it, so I can safely assume others are as well. My Amsterdam trip posed a similar problem. This is complicated by the fact that since I’ve been sick for so long, I now have a wholeheckuvalotta work to catch up on, both for college and placement, so I have, in theory, less time. (By the way, my goal this weekend is to get my exegesis paper done. You guys have to make sure I actually do this. I was meaning to last weekend and instead I ended up coughing my brains out to the point of tears.) And I mean, I’m still sick. I’m still coughing a lot, and my voice is still crappy, but Cameron says I’m now at least understandable on the phone, so that’s a good sign. And I slept through the night for the first time in about a week last night. (That makes me sound like a 4-week-old baby.) The bad part of that is that I allowed myself then to sleep for about 12 hours, meaning I’m not as tired as I need to be right now….um about 4 hours before I need to be awake again. Bummer.
So yeah anyway, I’ll get back to the DC trip though, because it was just starting to get good. I have yet to tell you about the actual ball (aka Prom for Grown-ups) and my most excellent time in Philly with Christiana and Cameron.
I think I just pulled a leg muscle due to a coughing fit. No, really.
Anyway. Stay groovy, my friends, and whatever you do, don’t start reading Balie’s blog, dammit.
P.S. On a side note, one of my best friends from high school youth group sent me a link to a blog of another of my best friends from high school youth group today. (We're all still good friends....we all spent an evening together not long ago drinking a few beers and watching Napoleon Dynamite.) On said blog was posted photos of this friend's arse after having a cyst/boil/thing removed from it. Friend is not only hairy, but also rather large. I tell you this because this is probably on my Top Five Things I Never Ever Wanted To See....and today I saw it. So I thought you would want to know about such a landmark event in my life. It was disgusting. And no, you don't want me to post the link.