POST 50!! WOOT! :)
Wow, so many posts... what have I been talking about all this time?! :D Whatever it is I hope it gets more exciting as life goes on, & I hope I learn to type better too... ;)
Today was kind of fun & eventful & full of good stuff to write about, so I shall write about it--novel idea, I know, but I thought I'd give it a whirl!
The church I attend has a yearly Christmas tradition--actually, we have lots of them, but specifically the choir has a really beautiful tradition of singing something called a "Christmas Cantata" every year one or two Sundays before Christmas.
According to the Oxford Dictionary (as found online anyway) a cantata is "a medium-length narrative piece of music for voices with instrumental accompaniment, typically with solos, chorus, and orchestra". The word's origins are 18th century Italian. (I felt obligated to look this up when I went to write about the cantata & suddenly realized that I didn't even know what that word meant...)
Apt description for what happened this morning... mostly. There were no solos--not sure why we abstained this year, but they've been there in the past--and our "orchestra" consisted of one extremely talented pianist (seriously, this lady has some awesome skills with a piano!), but other than that it fits.
I mention all of this because I'm in the choir that performed this morning, and we've been rehearsing since September... and it was so beautiful! I don't really sing solo in front of people much--it took three years of voice lessons and a wonderful singing partner for me to muster the courage to sing a duet in college--but if I'm harmonizing in a group it's another story. My range is such that either alto or soprano is easy for me, but when I joined the choir it was lacking altos, so alto I am. We had so many fun parts to sing, it really is a fantastic experience to be a part of such an event as a choir cantata...
That was the main event of the day. Then my sisters & their broods came over to Mum & Dad's place for Sunday lunch (another tradition). I played "SlapJack" with the kids--well, we played some twisted version of that game, I think when I was teaching them my brain combined "SlapJack" and some other game that I can't remember the name of... but in any case, the hybrid that resulted is really fun, and we played all afternoon until their mums came out of the living room to drag the kiddos away.
Then we got snowed in! Well, probably not really, but this evening's church got canceled, and no one really wanted to go anywhere anyway. Instead we stayed home & watched "The Santa Clause 2" (we already watched the first one last week, number 3 will be following up sometime before Christmas, I'm sure!).
So yeah, that's what's been happening... Did I mention we sang in robes? Not my preference, but I'm the young pup of the choir & apparently robes are "in" for choirs that sing cantatas... they're kind of a hunter green, and we had a bright red... actually, I'm not sure what they're called. Sashes? They hung around our necks, were red, and had a gold "Star of Bethlehem"esque embroidered on one side.
But the robes, they zipped up in the front, yeah? Only this morning, while we're getting them on RIGHT BEFORE we go up front, mine decides it's not going to. I'm seriously struggling with it for a solid two minutes, then a guyfriend walks over, sees I'm having trouble, and decides to help me out. Sure enough, first try, he can zip it up all the way--no problem.
I felt like a five year old that couldn't get my coat zipped. Not that I wasn't grateful--but I'm pretty sure my face was as red as that neck-sash-thing... (plague on the day I started blushing!)
But oh well. Such humour is the stuff of life. Where would I get my stories if things like that didn't happen? :)
Monday, December 13, 2010
Saturday, December 11, 2010
To draw, you must close your eyes and sing. --Picasso
I like drawing. I like singing too...
Wow, it's been a while since I've posted on here... a whole, what, four days now? Yikes, sorry about that everyone! May I beg your indulgence & we can hope together that such a travesty will never occur again? (I like that word, "travesty", it's a cool word...)
First order of business: welcome new follower! I know it's kind of ... well, it's a little ... bah, I lost the word I was looking for. I don't want to use "obsessive", because that's not quite what I mean, but it will have to do for now. But that's kind of how I feel when I find myself rejoicing over every new follower. :) Followers: you make me feel all warm & fuzzy inside, like a reassurance that someone actually reads these ramblings I have the audacity to call writing. :D I love you all! And I hope to never leave you bored with what I write!
So let's see, I haven't posted since the 7th, today is the 11th (as of 48 minutes ago...), that makes 4 days I haven't written about. What's been going on in my life?
Well, I have a confession to make. I have spent more of those four days playing games than I ever want to admit. One of my faults is that I tend to be a slightly obsessive person--especially when it comes to stupid, time-sucking Facebook games. I found two a couple of days ago that have proved to be veritable crack-dens. (Does that phrase make sense? Does it have to? You get my point, right? ... Hello?) I shan't name names, but I'm fearful of what they mean for my future.
My rational/pessimistic self tells me that I'm still in the denial phase of addiction, while the rest of myself tells me that I'm a better manager of my time now, and can allow myself to indulge in a couple of frivolous moments. The mind needs an outlet to unwind with! Besides, I haven't actually played them THAT much, just 10 more minutes then I'll go to bed...
But no worries, I will not post pictures, updates of how such games are progressing, or any other such nonsense on either Facebook or this blog (I seize up every time I have to type that word... :P). I am properly ashamed of my... non-addiction... ;)
Anyhoo, enough about games, what else shall I write about tonight, hmmm...
I had a dream the other night that was rather entertaining--it was my first venture into the realm of cognizant dreams! At least, I think that's what they're called.
I was dreaming that I was in a large city, I don't remember exactly what happened--I think something happened that should have hurt/killed me, but I escaped unscathed--but I was suddenly confronted with the thought "oh, this is a dream, that's all right then." Then, "Wait, this is a dream, that means I can do whatever I want--I'm in control!!"
Brief historical segue: I had heard of cognizant dreams twice before this occurrence, which is how I thought to enter into one... I think. Once was when a friend of mine told me about his; he would shrink or grow objects with a mere sweep of his hands. The other was in a book I read, a boy therein could control his dreams and he went flying in them every night.
I opted with the choice of flying. :) I found myself soaring above the city, the clouds, and swooping wherever I chose. Oddly enough though, my flight tended to wobble--as if my mind (as per usual in my dreamstate) tended to wander, and my flight was only as steady as my thoughts.
After a while I got bored, so I landed & tried to think up something interesting to do. I conjured up a lion to ride on, then (ever preoccupied with the sky) I gave it a pair of magnificent white wings. We flew far (the lion was much steadier than I'd been alone), to Hawaii! The islands were much smaller in my dream, I could hop from one to the other. Also, they seemed to be populated by ancient Egyptians--but only a handful, due to the smallness of the islands. Upon landing I discovered that my lion had actually been one of these Egyptians, and there was a very interesting and magical feud taking place. Suddenly my dream was taking on a multiplicity of nuances--then I woke up.
As always, I don't even bother interpreting, but these things do make for fun stories! :)
I've been writing on scripts lately too--though deviating perhaps from the editing I'm supposed to be doing... A couple of entertaining ideas have popped up in conversation with a writer/director friend & I feel compelled to pursue them. To give you a glimpse of the idea: imagine what life would be like if we lived with a barter system. Now, imagine an actor going out to dinner. What do they pay with? Would they perform a monologue? Give the other patrons & the staff "dinner and a show"?
Now, what if two actors were going out to dinner at such a place? & both thought they were supposed to be paying, so they planned ahead with this restaurant? It could be funny... :)
Hmmm, I feel kind of sorry. Some major stuff in life has been happening in the last couple of days. There've been a crisis or two, a major meltdown, some rash calls made, a couple of huge decisions that turned out to be rather easy to make, and some other mental stuff that's been going on. All of that is partly the reason I actually haven't written anything here since that Day that will Live Forever in Infamy (incidentally, the day before my grandmother's anniversary to her second husband--she wanted to get married on Dec. 7th, but Dad & his brothers laughed her out of that idea, so she went with the 8th instead). Unfortunately I still can't write about most of it, because I'm either not done with it yet, or it's just not something I feel comfortable putting online for anyone to read.
Sorry all!
Wow, that's a bit of a downer. Let's end this post on a better note than that, shall we?
Something that happened today: My nephew is four years old, goes by the name Aaron (among others), and is an adorably sweet brat (don't worry, brat is a term of endearment in my family). He has an instinctive & uncanny ability to charm anyone with even a fraction of a heart--made of ice. I don't know how he does it, but I know he's going to be a heart-breaker in middle school. But today the little guy made a(nother) trip to the emergency room.
Mind you, I heard & I wasn't too worried. He's practically got his own room in there, I wouldn't be surprised if they knew him by sight. Especially since one of the last times he visited the esteemed medical community it was because he got a toilet seat stuck around his neck. Yep, he stuck his head through it, then couldn't get it off. It took two hours to complete a five-minute procedure (sawing through the seat) because that's how long it took the doctors to clear the room!
But today the operation was of a different kind. Today the prank was sticking a jellybean a smidge further up his nose than was retrievable. Oops!
See, nothing to worry about with him. :)
Wow, it's been a while since I've posted on here... a whole, what, four days now? Yikes, sorry about that everyone! May I beg your indulgence & we can hope together that such a travesty will never occur again? (I like that word, "travesty", it's a cool word...)
First order of business: welcome new follower! I know it's kind of ... well, it's a little ... bah, I lost the word I was looking for. I don't want to use "obsessive", because that's not quite what I mean, but it will have to do for now. But that's kind of how I feel when I find myself rejoicing over every new follower. :) Followers: you make me feel all warm & fuzzy inside, like a reassurance that someone actually reads these ramblings I have the audacity to call writing. :D I love you all! And I hope to never leave you bored with what I write!
So let's see, I haven't posted since the 7th, today is the 11th (as of 48 minutes ago...), that makes 4 days I haven't written about. What's been going on in my life?
Well, I have a confession to make. I have spent more of those four days playing games than I ever want to admit. One of my faults is that I tend to be a slightly obsessive person--especially when it comes to stupid, time-sucking Facebook games. I found two a couple of days ago that have proved to be veritable crack-dens. (Does that phrase make sense? Does it have to? You get my point, right? ... Hello?) I shan't name names, but I'm fearful of what they mean for my future.
My rational/pessimistic self tells me that I'm still in the denial phase of addiction, while the rest of myself tells me that I'm a better manager of my time now, and can allow myself to indulge in a couple of frivolous moments. The mind needs an outlet to unwind with! Besides, I haven't actually played them THAT much, just 10 more minutes then I'll go to bed...
But no worries, I will not post pictures, updates of how such games are progressing, or any other such nonsense on either Facebook or this blog (I seize up every time I have to type that word... :P). I am properly ashamed of my... non-addiction... ;)
Anyhoo, enough about games, what else shall I write about tonight, hmmm...
I had a dream the other night that was rather entertaining--it was my first venture into the realm of cognizant dreams! At least, I think that's what they're called.
I was dreaming that I was in a large city, I don't remember exactly what happened--I think something happened that should have hurt/killed me, but I escaped unscathed--but I was suddenly confronted with the thought "oh, this is a dream, that's all right then." Then, "Wait, this is a dream, that means I can do whatever I want--I'm in control!!"
Brief historical segue: I had heard of cognizant dreams twice before this occurrence, which is how I thought to enter into one... I think. Once was when a friend of mine told me about his; he would shrink or grow objects with a mere sweep of his hands. The other was in a book I read, a boy therein could control his dreams and he went flying in them every night.
I opted with the choice of flying. :) I found myself soaring above the city, the clouds, and swooping wherever I chose. Oddly enough though, my flight tended to wobble--as if my mind (as per usual in my dreamstate) tended to wander, and my flight was only as steady as my thoughts.
After a while I got bored, so I landed & tried to think up something interesting to do. I conjured up a lion to ride on, then (ever preoccupied with the sky) I gave it a pair of magnificent white wings. We flew far (the lion was much steadier than I'd been alone), to Hawaii! The islands were much smaller in my dream, I could hop from one to the other. Also, they seemed to be populated by ancient Egyptians--but only a handful, due to the smallness of the islands. Upon landing I discovered that my lion had actually been one of these Egyptians, and there was a very interesting and magical feud taking place. Suddenly my dream was taking on a multiplicity of nuances--then I woke up.
As always, I don't even bother interpreting, but these things do make for fun stories! :)
I've been writing on scripts lately too--though deviating perhaps from the editing I'm supposed to be doing... A couple of entertaining ideas have popped up in conversation with a writer/director friend & I feel compelled to pursue them. To give you a glimpse of the idea: imagine what life would be like if we lived with a barter system. Now, imagine an actor going out to dinner. What do they pay with? Would they perform a monologue? Give the other patrons & the staff "dinner and a show"?
Now, what if two actors were going out to dinner at such a place? & both thought they were supposed to be paying, so they planned ahead with this restaurant? It could be funny... :)
Hmmm, I feel kind of sorry. Some major stuff in life has been happening in the last couple of days. There've been a crisis or two, a major meltdown, some rash calls made, a couple of huge decisions that turned out to be rather easy to make, and some other mental stuff that's been going on. All of that is partly the reason I actually haven't written anything here since that Day that will Live Forever in Infamy (incidentally, the day before my grandmother's anniversary to her second husband--she wanted to get married on Dec. 7th, but Dad & his brothers laughed her out of that idea, so she went with the 8th instead). Unfortunately I still can't write about most of it, because I'm either not done with it yet, or it's just not something I feel comfortable putting online for anyone to read.
Sorry all!
Wow, that's a bit of a downer. Let's end this post on a better note than that, shall we?
Something that happened today: My nephew is four years old, goes by the name Aaron (among others), and is an adorably sweet brat (don't worry, brat is a term of endearment in my family). He has an instinctive & uncanny ability to charm anyone with even a fraction of a heart--made of ice. I don't know how he does it, but I know he's going to be a heart-breaker in middle school. But today the little guy made a(nother) trip to the emergency room.
Mind you, I heard & I wasn't too worried. He's practically got his own room in there, I wouldn't be surprised if they knew him by sight. Especially since one of the last times he visited the esteemed medical community it was because he got a toilet seat stuck around his neck. Yep, he stuck his head through it, then couldn't get it off. It took two hours to complete a five-minute procedure (sawing through the seat) because that's how long it took the doctors to clear the room!
But today the operation was of a different kind. Today the prank was sticking a jellybean a smidge further up his nose than was retrievable. Oops!
See, nothing to worry about with him. :)
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Watch out for those falling houses
Especially if you like red shoes... or silver slippers... ;)
So I haven't been here in a couple of days, and there's good reason for it! I do actually have something worth writing about... ish... hopefully? I suppose if you're reading you must think it's possible at least. :D
One reason was because I was editing a script... The title is still in the works, but it's a 10 minute work I did back in my sophomore year for playwrighting class. It was the final, and each student was given a "commission" (this just meant we actually had parameters to stay in--we didn't actually get paid... I wish!) to write for. Our professor tried to give each of us something that would push us outside our norm that we'd been writing in all that semester. Here's the one I was given:
"RACHEL... YOU MUST WRITE A PLAY ABOUT A GUY AND A GIRL WHO ARE IN THE SAME APARTMENT BUILDING WITH NO LOVE PROSPECTS...THEY ARE TOO ODD FOR ANYONE AND ONE NIGHT THEY REALIZE IT AND DECIDE TO MAKE OTHER DECISIONS ABOUT THEIR LIVES..HOWEVER THERE IS NOT TO BE ANY LOVING JESTER THAT DECIDES THE OUTCOME...MUST BE GRITTY WITH NO POLICEMEN AS CHARACTERS... NO DEATHS BUT NO DISNEY OR ROMANTIC LOVE COMEDY...DOES NOT WRAP UP NEATLY...OTHERS CHARACTERS CAN BE ADDED"
(By the by, the prof. emailed everything in all caps... not my doing!)
Guy & girl? No love prospects? Too odd for anyone? Decision making? No loving jesters, policemen, or death? No romance, comedy, or wrapping up neatly? Lots of grit?
Piece o' cake.
I wrote about a married couple. ;)
Did I mention we had a weekend to do this in?
No seriously, the assignment was emailed to us on Friday, it was due by 5pm the following Monday.
Yeah, some serious editing is needed. But It's coming along--& I kind of like it! It's been so much fun, getting back into script-writing. I'm currently working on stuff like developing distinct voices for the characters, fixing the ending, imbuing the script with some kind of purpose (not the kind of thing you worry about when writing it in 48 hours), and cutting extraneous lines... my wonderful editor told me my script was too wordy.. imagine, me? Write something too wordy? Noooo... what? :D I'll probably write later about how that goes...
Something else I've been doing is reading "God is Great, God is Good: Why Believing in God is Reasonable and Responsible" by William Lane Craig & Chad V. Meister.
Funny story... Since this is a philosophy book I wanted to take my time & kind of digest the material as I went, so I was reading a lot slower than I usually do. Suddenly I realized today (Monday) that the book is due back at the library on Thursday, and I haven't even reached the half-way point!!
Guess what I did all day today... booyah... :) Book is read, and I think I even retained most of what I read! Woot!
You may remember that I commented earlier about "god is not Great" by Christopher Hitchins. "God is Great, God is Good" was written as a refutation of Hitchins' book, and the rest of the claims being made by the movement commonly known as "New Atheism". The leaders of this movement are Christopher Hitchins, Richard Dawkins, and Sam Harris--all of whom are responded to in this compilation of essays.
Credentials abound among the authors of these essays--writers include leading thinkers in cosmology, astrophysics, biology, theology, and (of course) philosophy. I found it very easy to understand, helpful in its articulation, and written in an irenic spirit.
But don't take my word for it. Read it for yourself! Anyone who considers themselves a thinker should do so, if for no other reason than because it presents a very articulate & well-reasoned viewpoint that should at least be considered. Atheists should read it, because these are the kinds of arguments being posited against the proclaimed leaders of the day. Christians should read it because these are articulations of your faith! If you haven't thought about the issues raised in this book, you should! & trying to be able to answer such questions intelligently is a duty we have when defending the faith.
So yeah, that's what I've been up to for the last couple of days. :)
Before I go, one last thing! I've noticed that my directing style is vastly different when I'm directing children than it was when I was directing college-age actors. Namely, I never sit down. I'm constantly going to the back of the room to see if they're loud enough, running to the front to answer a question, jumping onstage to show an actor how-to, even dashing up to the sound guy--after two hours I was sore & exhausted! I have no idea how the kids' energy held up, but I have the sneaking suspicion they weren't half as tired as I was.
I managed to keep their attention almost the whole time though--without losing my voice! :) & rehearsal was fantastic!
I'm so glad it's almost over... & so sad.
So I haven't been here in a couple of days, and there's good reason for it! I do actually have something worth writing about... ish... hopefully? I suppose if you're reading you must think it's possible at least. :D
One reason was because I was editing a script... The title is still in the works, but it's a 10 minute work I did back in my sophomore year for playwrighting class. It was the final, and each student was given a "commission" (this just meant we actually had parameters to stay in--we didn't actually get paid... I wish!) to write for. Our professor tried to give each of us something that would push us outside our norm that we'd been writing in all that semester. Here's the one I was given:
"RACHEL... YOU MUST WRITE A PLAY ABOUT A GUY AND A GIRL WHO ARE IN THE SAME APARTMENT BUILDING WITH NO LOVE PROSPECTS...THEY ARE TOO ODD FOR ANYONE AND ONE NIGHT THEY REALIZE IT AND DECIDE TO MAKE OTHER DECISIONS ABOUT THEIR LIVES..HOWEVER THERE IS NOT TO BE ANY LOVING JESTER THAT DECIDES THE OUTCOME...MUST BE GRITTY WITH NO POLICEMEN AS CHARACTERS... NO DEATHS BUT NO DISNEY OR ROMANTIC LOVE COMEDY...DOES NOT WRAP UP NEATLY...OTHERS CHARACTERS CAN BE ADDED"
(By the by, the prof. emailed everything in all caps... not my doing!)
Guy & girl? No love prospects? Too odd for anyone? Decision making? No loving jesters, policemen, or death? No romance, comedy, or wrapping up neatly? Lots of grit?
Piece o' cake.
I wrote about a married couple. ;)
Did I mention we had a weekend to do this in?
No seriously, the assignment was emailed to us on Friday, it was due by 5pm the following Monday.
Yeah, some serious editing is needed. But It's coming along--& I kind of like it! It's been so much fun, getting back into script-writing. I'm currently working on stuff like developing distinct voices for the characters, fixing the ending, imbuing the script with some kind of purpose (not the kind of thing you worry about when writing it in 48 hours), and cutting extraneous lines... my wonderful editor told me my script was too wordy.. imagine, me? Write something too wordy? Noooo... what? :D I'll probably write later about how that goes...
Something else I've been doing is reading "God is Great, God is Good: Why Believing in God is Reasonable and Responsible" by William Lane Craig & Chad V. Meister.
Funny story... Since this is a philosophy book I wanted to take my time & kind of digest the material as I went, so I was reading a lot slower than I usually do. Suddenly I realized today (Monday) that the book is due back at the library on Thursday, and I haven't even reached the half-way point!!
Guess what I did all day today... booyah... :) Book is read, and I think I even retained most of what I read! Woot!
You may remember that I commented earlier about "god is not Great" by Christopher Hitchins. "God is Great, God is Good" was written as a refutation of Hitchins' book, and the rest of the claims being made by the movement commonly known as "New Atheism". The leaders of this movement are Christopher Hitchins, Richard Dawkins, and Sam Harris--all of whom are responded to in this compilation of essays.
Credentials abound among the authors of these essays--writers include leading thinkers in cosmology, astrophysics, biology, theology, and (of course) philosophy. I found it very easy to understand, helpful in its articulation, and written in an irenic spirit.
But don't take my word for it. Read it for yourself! Anyone who considers themselves a thinker should do so, if for no other reason than because it presents a very articulate & well-reasoned viewpoint that should at least be considered. Atheists should read it, because these are the kinds of arguments being posited against the proclaimed leaders of the day. Christians should read it because these are articulations of your faith! If you haven't thought about the issues raised in this book, you should! & trying to be able to answer such questions intelligently is a duty we have when defending the faith.
So yeah, that's what I've been up to for the last couple of days. :)
Before I go, one last thing! I've noticed that my directing style is vastly different when I'm directing children than it was when I was directing college-age actors. Namely, I never sit down. I'm constantly going to the back of the room to see if they're loud enough, running to the front to answer a question, jumping onstage to show an actor how-to, even dashing up to the sound guy--after two hours I was sore & exhausted! I have no idea how the kids' energy held up, but I have the sneaking suspicion they weren't half as tired as I was.
I managed to keep their attention almost the whole time though--without losing my voice! :) & rehearsal was fantastic!
I'm so glad it's almost over... & so sad.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
I don't suffer from insanity... I enjoy every minute of it!
The first snow of the season to stick is upon us--with gusto! :)
I may hate being cold, but I love snow. It's so beautiful, tragic, and peaceful. My thought is that is the weather is going to be cold enough to support snow, it should have the decency to look pretty too--and too cold for snow is far too cold to be allowed!
But the snow itself is absolutely enchanting, especially at night. The facets of the snowflakes catch every gleam of light from both moon and stars, or from any light nearby, and reflect it a hundredfold back into the crisp night air. The shadows that chance to play upon the surface of such a luminous substance are of a different quality than the average darkness; they are deeper, and seem to hide more within them. Edges are sharper, at least the edges between light & dark are--however, the outlines of everything else are oddly blurred, gentled even. Snow seems to bring with it a quiet, every sound is absorbed, softened, and returned to the ears less harsh than it otherwise would have been.
Yet, behind this beauty is a danger, and a sorrow. The lifespan of a single snowflake is so very short--but each is an individual; once it has departed it can never again be seen. A fresh snowfall welcomes into its embrace all who live within its realm, but such an embrace should be returned but briefly. If the enchantress tempts the unwary, they may well fall into a sleep that they never awaken from.
Anyhoo... random musings about snow. :)
I may hate being cold, but I love snow. It's so beautiful, tragic, and peaceful. My thought is that is the weather is going to be cold enough to support snow, it should have the decency to look pretty too--and too cold for snow is far too cold to be allowed!
But the snow itself is absolutely enchanting, especially at night. The facets of the snowflakes catch every gleam of light from both moon and stars, or from any light nearby, and reflect it a hundredfold back into the crisp night air. The shadows that chance to play upon the surface of such a luminous substance are of a different quality than the average darkness; they are deeper, and seem to hide more within them. Edges are sharper, at least the edges between light & dark are--however, the outlines of everything else are oddly blurred, gentled even. Snow seems to bring with it a quiet, every sound is absorbed, softened, and returned to the ears less harsh than it otherwise would have been.
Yet, behind this beauty is a danger, and a sorrow. The lifespan of a single snowflake is so very short--but each is an individual; once it has departed it can never again be seen. A fresh snowfall welcomes into its embrace all who live within its realm, but such an embrace should be returned but briefly. If the enchantress tempts the unwary, they may well fall into a sleep that they never awaken from.
Anyhoo... random musings about snow. :)
Friday, December 3, 2010
Cleverly Disguised as a Responsible Adult
Alright fine, maybe my disguise isn't so clever... :P It seems like it's rather easy to see through, hm... :D
I discovered--or rather, I reaffirmed--something about myself today. I am not a "scrappy" person. And I don't mean the kind of scrappy that picks/wins fights (I haven't had the opportunity to test that one), I mean the kind that stamps, cuts, punches, and glitters all kinds of cool stuff & makes scrapbooks & cards & the like out of it in some mystical & mysterious manner. I am not one of them.
I can do many things that are deemed "artistic"... I can paint, draw, sketch (is there a difference there?), sing, act, write, poemize, and all sorts of other things. But for some strange reason the sight of all the crafty tools used for making epic home-made cards that defy anyone to call them home-made--for all my creativity I simply draw a blank. Not that it's not cool to look at, there's all kinds of nifty gadgets invented for the sole purpose of glittering, cutting, making shapes in paper, and such. I just can't think of anything to do with them.
I was reawakened to this quirk about myself at a church ladies scrappy... thing... that occurred this evening. I originally didn't even want to go (what am I going to do there?), but my dear Mum was organizing the shindig, and told me that 1) there would be plenty of stuff for me to be able to get by without bringing anything (not being a scrapper, I have zip supplies for it--it's expensive!!), 2) both of my sisters & my niece would be in attendance, so we could all have a nice "girls' night" (this elevates the shindig to the status of FAMILY stuff, and FAMILY stuff is IMPORTANT and missing such an IMPORTANT event is considered a travesty, even if the Mum DID say "you don't really have to go"...ha), and 3) that I didn't have to go, but she really wanted me to try it out (aka "you have no reason not to come, if you don't show there will be trouble"--you know that look & tone? Yep, it was there...).
I love my Mum, & cherish our close relationship. So I did the right thing & went! ;) And she was very gracious about the whole thing. After wandering around aimlessly in a vain attempt to stimulate some semblance of inspiration, I told her I was bored & going home. She just smiled & said ok! So I promptly fled the premises, leaving all of those dear, wonderful, crazy creative people to their paperworkings. :)
On a separate note, the last couple of days have been refreshingly vibrant. I've been going through a bit of a slump for the last couple of weeks, but in the last two or three days that seems to have been washed away. I love times like this; I feel more productive, happy, closer to God, more of a joy to those around me--it's like everything in life has a new depth of color I couldn't see before.
I don't know how long it will last, but I'm enjoying it to the fullest while it's here!
One of my new/temporary favorite songs (they're always temporarily my favorite... don't think about that one too hard...) is the one that was performed last on the most recent episode of Glee (please don't hate me, yes I watch that show). It's called "Dog Days Are Over", and was originally performed by Florence and the Machine. The interpretations of the lyrics are many & varied, ranging from her grandmother's suicide to escaping an abusive relationship.
My personal opinion on dissecting art is that art is like a frog. So much can be learned from observation, but if you start cutting it to pieces it's dead & not coming back for you. So as far as this song goes, I love it, it means something to me, you should listen to it! I have no idea what it "really" means, or what the artist "originally intended". If you want to know that, look elsewhere. :)
I think one of my favorite lines is the first: "Happiness hit her like a train on a track"... call me sadistic, but the picture makes me smile... :) I think it's because I've been there, but it might just be because I'm a bit of a bad person sometimes... you pick! :)
Anyhoo, typing the correct spelling for words is getting more difficult, as is forming sentences, so I'm heading away for now. Later all!
I discovered--or rather, I reaffirmed--something about myself today. I am not a "scrappy" person. And I don't mean the kind of scrappy that picks/wins fights (I haven't had the opportunity to test that one), I mean the kind that stamps, cuts, punches, and glitters all kinds of cool stuff & makes scrapbooks & cards & the like out of it in some mystical & mysterious manner. I am not one of them.
I can do many things that are deemed "artistic"... I can paint, draw, sketch (is there a difference there?), sing, act, write, poemize, and all sorts of other things. But for some strange reason the sight of all the crafty tools used for making epic home-made cards that defy anyone to call them home-made--for all my creativity I simply draw a blank. Not that it's not cool to look at, there's all kinds of nifty gadgets invented for the sole purpose of glittering, cutting, making shapes in paper, and such. I just can't think of anything to do with them.
I was reawakened to this quirk about myself at a church ladies scrappy... thing... that occurred this evening. I originally didn't even want to go (what am I going to do there?), but my dear Mum was organizing the shindig, and told me that 1) there would be plenty of stuff for me to be able to get by without bringing anything (not being a scrapper, I have zip supplies for it--it's expensive!!), 2) both of my sisters & my niece would be in attendance, so we could all have a nice "girls' night" (this elevates the shindig to the status of FAMILY stuff, and FAMILY stuff is IMPORTANT and missing such an IMPORTANT event is considered a travesty, even if the Mum DID say "you don't really have to go"...ha), and 3) that I didn't have to go, but she really wanted me to try it out (aka "you have no reason not to come, if you don't show there will be trouble"--you know that look & tone? Yep, it was there...).
I love my Mum, & cherish our close relationship. So I did the right thing & went! ;) And she was very gracious about the whole thing. After wandering around aimlessly in a vain attempt to stimulate some semblance of inspiration, I told her I was bored & going home. She just smiled & said ok! So I promptly fled the premises, leaving all of those dear, wonderful, crazy creative people to their paperworkings. :)
On a separate note, the last couple of days have been refreshingly vibrant. I've been going through a bit of a slump for the last couple of weeks, but in the last two or three days that seems to have been washed away. I love times like this; I feel more productive, happy, closer to God, more of a joy to those around me--it's like everything in life has a new depth of color I couldn't see before.
I don't know how long it will last, but I'm enjoying it to the fullest while it's here!
One of my new/temporary favorite songs (they're always temporarily my favorite... don't think about that one too hard...) is the one that was performed last on the most recent episode of Glee (please don't hate me, yes I watch that show). It's called "Dog Days Are Over", and was originally performed by Florence and the Machine. The interpretations of the lyrics are many & varied, ranging from her grandmother's suicide to escaping an abusive relationship.
My personal opinion on dissecting art is that art is like a frog. So much can be learned from observation, but if you start cutting it to pieces it's dead & not coming back for you. So as far as this song goes, I love it, it means something to me, you should listen to it! I have no idea what it "really" means, or what the artist "originally intended". If you want to know that, look elsewhere. :)
I think one of my favorite lines is the first: "Happiness hit her like a train on a track"... call me sadistic, but the picture makes me smile... :) I think it's because I've been there, but it might just be because I'm a bit of a bad person sometimes... you pick! :)
Anyhoo, typing the correct spelling for words is getting more difficult, as is forming sentences, so I'm heading away for now. Later all!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Mess with me. When I become a ghost I'll hide your keys; who will be laughing then?
Hehehe... I just like the sentiment behind this one... :) I also think it would be fun to make someone think they're going crazy by randomly relocating their keys when they're not looking... mwahaha!
Something I saw on a commercial today & have to comment on: NBC has these spots that they do that talk about safety, health, peaceful family relationships, etc. The spot I saw was on diabetes. Now please don't misunderstand me, I have a family history of blood sugar mishaps & problems, and desire to be fully aware of my own risks & responsibilities in this area, & would encourage others to do the same.
However, I have to take issue with something said on the spot I saw...
After stating the number of people in the USA who have diabetes, the spokesperson then made the claim that 1 out of every four people with diabetes don't even know they have it.
... Really? How do you know that?
I mean seriously, let's think about this for a moment here: How does one take a poll on something like that?
"Do you have diabetes: yes or no"
If you have diabetes and know about it, you say yes & fall into that ... however many it was the person said.
If you check no, then either you really don't have diabetes, or you do & just don't know it yet... But how do the pollsters know which one you are?
If THEY know you have diabetes, and know you DON'T know, wouldn't the responsible thing be to tell you about it? But then you're no longer one of the ones who have it but don't know. If they don't tell you, that's just mean, but you're one of the statistics.
If that's the case, those pollsters are truly terrible to just not tell people so they can tell you how many people have diabetes but don't know it... wait a minute, that doesn't even make sense...
Are they just guesstimating? But then wouldn't the responsible thing have been to say that "it is estimated that one in every four people with diabetes doesn't even know they have it", instead of stating such a thing as fact?
This really is something I'm having difficulty figuring out: where did those numbers come from?! Seriously, if you know of any way they could've got these stats, let me know--I'm curious! (And while curiosity may have killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back!) I'm still trying to puzzle it out...
Yep. That's what's on my mind at the moment...
Something else on my mind lately has been the study my pastor is leading on Wednesday nights. It's from a book called "UnChristian" (I'm still trying to get my hands on it to read, I hear it's at the library) & it's about how the rest of the world views the Christian religion--specifically how people between the ages of 16 & 29 see it.
Now, I know I'm no expert on how people outside the church see her. But I like to think I might know something about how people of my generation think--maybe moreso perhaps than the rest of the people in there, considering that they're all old enough to have people my age as their kids. I keep quiet in there mostly, everyone else has a lot to say & I like listening... :)
The topic of tonight was homosexuality.
According to the book, most people of my generation see the church as haters of gays & lesbians, & find the judgment received by these people at the hands of the church to be harsh & undeniably ... um... 'kay, I'm not sure what word I was going to use there, sorry... that one got away from me...
But you get the idea, yeah? A Christian is generally assumed to be a ... well, a gay-hater, and I can't really say that's an untrue assumption in lots of cases. Too many cases.
But it's odd, there were a couple of people at the study tonight that seemed in complete denial of that fact--how could they view us that way?! they said, in shock and dismay. All I could think was, really? A bunch of Southern Baptists, we have probably the worst reputation when it comes to being "haters" out of all the Protestant Christians, and not without reason. No, I don't think any of the people (okay, I don't think MOST of the people) in that room tonight would abuse a gay person verbally, physically, or even slightly. But... we're talking about reputations here, and we're affiliated with some pretty terrible people--whether we want to be or not. They've called themselves Christians--some of them are, I don't doubt it--and they've abused & hated the homosexual community. To sit back & wonder why someone would accuse me of the same if they know what church I go to is to wander around life with a set of blinders on, closing my eyes to the unpleasantness that is the legacy left by the church through the ages. To do such is nothing but a hindrance in working for the Kingdom. To be effective means to go through life with eyes wide open, seeing the truth & acknowledging the past failures for what they are.
How else can we grow & love?
Well, I hafta run. I have a properties list to email! :) Yay directing/managing! :) G'night all!
Something I saw on a commercial today & have to comment on: NBC has these spots that they do that talk about safety, health, peaceful family relationships, etc. The spot I saw was on diabetes. Now please don't misunderstand me, I have a family history of blood sugar mishaps & problems, and desire to be fully aware of my own risks & responsibilities in this area, & would encourage others to do the same.
However, I have to take issue with something said on the spot I saw...
After stating the number of people in the USA who have diabetes, the spokesperson then made the claim that 1 out of every four people with diabetes don't even know they have it.
... Really? How do you know that?
I mean seriously, let's think about this for a moment here: How does one take a poll on something like that?
"Do you have diabetes: yes or no"
If you have diabetes and know about it, you say yes & fall into that ... however many it was the person said.
If you check no, then either you really don't have diabetes, or you do & just don't know it yet... But how do the pollsters know which one you are?
If THEY know you have diabetes, and know you DON'T know, wouldn't the responsible thing be to tell you about it? But then you're no longer one of the ones who have it but don't know. If they don't tell you, that's just mean, but you're one of the statistics.
If that's the case, those pollsters are truly terrible to just not tell people so they can tell you how many people have diabetes but don't know it... wait a minute, that doesn't even make sense...
Are they just guesstimating? But then wouldn't the responsible thing have been to say that "it is estimated that one in every four people with diabetes doesn't even know they have it", instead of stating such a thing as fact?
This really is something I'm having difficulty figuring out: where did those numbers come from?! Seriously, if you know of any way they could've got these stats, let me know--I'm curious! (And while curiosity may have killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back!) I'm still trying to puzzle it out...
Yep. That's what's on my mind at the moment...
Something else on my mind lately has been the study my pastor is leading on Wednesday nights. It's from a book called "UnChristian" (I'm still trying to get my hands on it to read, I hear it's at the library) & it's about how the rest of the world views the Christian religion--specifically how people between the ages of 16 & 29 see it.
Now, I know I'm no expert on how people outside the church see her. But I like to think I might know something about how people of my generation think--maybe moreso perhaps than the rest of the people in there, considering that they're all old enough to have people my age as their kids. I keep quiet in there mostly, everyone else has a lot to say & I like listening... :)
The topic of tonight was homosexuality.
According to the book, most people of my generation see the church as haters of gays & lesbians, & find the judgment received by these people at the hands of the church to be harsh & undeniably ... um... 'kay, I'm not sure what word I was going to use there, sorry... that one got away from me...
But you get the idea, yeah? A Christian is generally assumed to be a ... well, a gay-hater, and I can't really say that's an untrue assumption in lots of cases. Too many cases.
But it's odd, there were a couple of people at the study tonight that seemed in complete denial of that fact--how could they view us that way?! they said, in shock and dismay. All I could think was, really? A bunch of Southern Baptists, we have probably the worst reputation when it comes to being "haters" out of all the Protestant Christians, and not without reason. No, I don't think any of the people (okay, I don't think MOST of the people) in that room tonight would abuse a gay person verbally, physically, or even slightly. But... we're talking about reputations here, and we're affiliated with some pretty terrible people--whether we want to be or not. They've called themselves Christians--some of them are, I don't doubt it--and they've abused & hated the homosexual community. To sit back & wonder why someone would accuse me of the same if they know what church I go to is to wander around life with a set of blinders on, closing my eyes to the unpleasantness that is the legacy left by the church through the ages. To do such is nothing but a hindrance in working for the Kingdom. To be effective means to go through life with eyes wide open, seeing the truth & acknowledging the past failures for what they are.
How else can we grow & love?
Well, I hafta run. I have a properties list to email! :) Yay directing/managing! :) G'night all!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Life is short, read fast.
Lots has happened over the last couple of days... I confess, I got rather distracted from writing on here... :) Okay, so not really *lots*, but I've thought of (and remembered! miracle of miracles!) a lot to write about, so it seems like more has happened than really has.
Lets see, thing number one...
I recently (yesterday? the day before? eh, "recently" is close enough) re-read all of the posts I've posted here, and noticed a running trend: I tend to write a lot about how I can't remember/think of anything to write, but I write about that when all else fails. This strikes me as a rather lame habit to get into, and I shall attempt to refrain from such practices hereafter. I make no promises to that effect, mind you, but I shall put forth my best effort! (I'm haunted by the voice of Yoda: "Do, or do not. There is no "try". Yeah? well... It's my blog & I'll try if I want to! :P So there!) Thanks to those of you who bore through them--hopefully there are better times to come! :) Other than that, it was rather entertaining to go back through them & remember.
I've thought of another good reason for keeping a blog! It came to me Sunday after church. I've mainly been posting because I think it's a good practice as a writer to keep myself disciplined in some kind of writing on a regular basis. (Hopefully this discipline will progress to more structured/profitable writing, but one step at a time.) I think another good reason for keeping this will be to be able to say all of those things I usually keep bottled inside.
Don't worry, I'm not talking about using this as a rant-haven--I wouldn't do that to you, or to myself. It's irritating enough realizing that I have a rant, let alone listening to it. I have no desire to put others through that & try to apologize to those who are willing to listen when I do. No, what I'm talking about is something more like the following.
In class on Sunday we were discussing... 'kay, I'll be honest, I don't really remember what the main lesson was. But the discussion turned toward the affection Paul felt for the Church in Rome, and how the Church is supposed to feel for each other & take care of each other. The list Paul made sounded challenging to me, but (with Christ) doable. I was about to pipe up & say something, but another person in class beat me to it & said that she could easily imagine herself feeling such things (like sacrificial love) for her children or family, but couldn't see herself giving, say, her life, for a stranger. One thing led to another, one person after another spoke over/before me, and, before I knew it, what I had to say no longer pertained to the discussion. But it stuck with me, and has been running through my head ever since. Knowing me & stuff like this, it'll likely just stick around until I get it out somehow. So, here we are!
So often today I hear it, I see it, and I feel the pressure to find "that special someone". It's all over, the church, the media, music, movies, books, friends, family, this idea seems to have permeated the culture of today. I can't really say that's strange or unexpected--but hey, I'm a single chica, and I'm still loving life here!
One of my favorite class periods in Senior Year Experience last year was when Dr. Bob spoke on relationships--and on singleness. So often in the church singleness seems to be set aside as merely a waiting game. God will being you your "other half" soon, just be patient & wait for the right one--or, if you're the more adventurous type, get out there & find them!
But what if there's more to it then that. What if being single is not the same thing as being alone? My classmate brought up a valid point--for a mother & a wife it's easy to imagine giving your life for your husband or children, but hard to imagine being that willing to die for a stranger.
I would posit that for someone unattached to a significant other, such a thing is easier to imagine--giving one's own life for a stranger, I mean. I speak only from my own limited experience, and from what I've been told by others. However, Paul writes that if you have the strength to remain pure while being single, such is the course of preference. In such a state we are better able to serve God, being able to focus more completely on Him and not being distracted by the responsibilities of a family. My heart's main attachment is of another world, so I hold less tightly to my life here. If the Kingdom could be best served by my death, I honestly think I would be able--willing, even, to give it freely. If I were to gain a romantic interest however, I think my life would seem more precious, I would find more to live for here.
Not that that's a bad thing, being single is not for the faint of heart... ;) God knows, I've wished for more than I will ever tell while still in this form. But, I've seen how much I can do while going without. I'm not lacking my other half, I am one person, whole & complete. My heart is undivided in its object of affection--and because of that, I am learning to love others more completely.
Louisa May Alcott wrote in her book "Eight Cousins" something to the effect of this: old maid aunties and bachelor uncles were put in this world for a purpose, to receive and nurture the affections of those children whose parents are too busy to do such themselves. This precious love would otherwise often be left without a recipient, and would wither away to nothing.
This is what I want to do. I don't want to fritter away my time waiting for a prince charming that might not (probably doesn't) even exist. What a waste! I want--and am pretty certain God wants too--to use what I've been given. And I've been given the gift, the blessing, of being "single".
Single, but never alone. Never unloved, and never--never never!--unloving.
Yep, that's been running around in my head for a while. Some other things that have been running include:
I watched more anime than I ever should've in the last couple of days... and as a result I'm going on strike from it. :P Who ever introduced me to that stuff anyway?! The really irritating thing about it is--at least with the stuff I was watching--you can't even do anything else and watch it at the same time! No, complete attention must be devoted to reading the subtitles! Ah well, at least they only come in 22 minute bits...
Today I began the day with--not a schedule! Instead I have a to-do list with a bunch of deadlines (real ones too, not just self-imposed! Be impressed, that's right, I live in the real world!). So when my plans got shot by other things happening I was able to end the day (rather, will be able to end the day... later) guilt-free! Some of the stuff was accomplished, I will be able to accomplish the rest. Huzzah no guilt! I'm always more productive when I have less baggage to carry. :)
That which threw my plans was actually my nephew coming over today! The 4yrold, Aaron, had a date with "Grammy" today, to decorate the Christmas tree. I helped, and "Poppy" sat nearby reading his book--and laughing at us discreetly, I'm sure. :) The tree looks far less bare than it did this morning, and far more cheerful. It was kind of interesting, some of those ornaments are older than I am! They were got on my parents' first tour in Germany, I was had during the second. German ornaments are so very ... wonderful! :)
After decorating the tree, Dad (Poppy) and I had fun wrestling with Aaron. He would no sooner be "rescued" by one of us than we would have him squealing for help from the other. At one point we were playing tug-of-war with him, he laughed uproariously the whole time, of course. :D
Anyhoo, I should be heading off to bed. This whole not-being-nocturnal thing is only barely working, so I'm going to try sleeping at night & seeing if that helps. Sweet dreams!
Lets see, thing number one...
I recently (yesterday? the day before? eh, "recently" is close enough) re-read all of the posts I've posted here, and noticed a running trend: I tend to write a lot about how I can't remember/think of anything to write, but I write about that when all else fails. This strikes me as a rather lame habit to get into, and I shall attempt to refrain from such practices hereafter. I make no promises to that effect, mind you, but I shall put forth my best effort! (I'm haunted by the voice of Yoda: "Do, or do not. There is no "try". Yeah? well... It's my blog & I'll try if I want to! :P So there!) Thanks to those of you who bore through them--hopefully there are better times to come! :) Other than that, it was rather entertaining to go back through them & remember.
I've thought of another good reason for keeping a blog! It came to me Sunday after church. I've mainly been posting because I think it's a good practice as a writer to keep myself disciplined in some kind of writing on a regular basis. (Hopefully this discipline will progress to more structured/profitable writing, but one step at a time.) I think another good reason for keeping this will be to be able to say all of those things I usually keep bottled inside.
Don't worry, I'm not talking about using this as a rant-haven--I wouldn't do that to you, or to myself. It's irritating enough realizing that I have a rant, let alone listening to it. I have no desire to put others through that & try to apologize to those who are willing to listen when I do. No, what I'm talking about is something more like the following.
In class on Sunday we were discussing... 'kay, I'll be honest, I don't really remember what the main lesson was. But the discussion turned toward the affection Paul felt for the Church in Rome, and how the Church is supposed to feel for each other & take care of each other. The list Paul made sounded challenging to me, but (with Christ) doable. I was about to pipe up & say something, but another person in class beat me to it & said that she could easily imagine herself feeling such things (like sacrificial love) for her children or family, but couldn't see herself giving, say, her life, for a stranger. One thing led to another, one person after another spoke over/before me, and, before I knew it, what I had to say no longer pertained to the discussion. But it stuck with me, and has been running through my head ever since. Knowing me & stuff like this, it'll likely just stick around until I get it out somehow. So, here we are!
So often today I hear it, I see it, and I feel the pressure to find "that special someone". It's all over, the church, the media, music, movies, books, friends, family, this idea seems to have permeated the culture of today. I can't really say that's strange or unexpected--but hey, I'm a single chica, and I'm still loving life here!
One of my favorite class periods in Senior Year Experience last year was when Dr. Bob spoke on relationships--and on singleness. So often in the church singleness seems to be set aside as merely a waiting game. God will being you your "other half" soon, just be patient & wait for the right one--or, if you're the more adventurous type, get out there & find them!
But what if there's more to it then that. What if being single is not the same thing as being alone? My classmate brought up a valid point--for a mother & a wife it's easy to imagine giving your life for your husband or children, but hard to imagine being that willing to die for a stranger.
I would posit that for someone unattached to a significant other, such a thing is easier to imagine--giving one's own life for a stranger, I mean. I speak only from my own limited experience, and from what I've been told by others. However, Paul writes that if you have the strength to remain pure while being single, such is the course of preference. In such a state we are better able to serve God, being able to focus more completely on Him and not being distracted by the responsibilities of a family. My heart's main attachment is of another world, so I hold less tightly to my life here. If the Kingdom could be best served by my death, I honestly think I would be able--willing, even, to give it freely. If I were to gain a romantic interest however, I think my life would seem more precious, I would find more to live for here.
Not that that's a bad thing, being single is not for the faint of heart... ;) God knows, I've wished for more than I will ever tell while still in this form. But, I've seen how much I can do while going without. I'm not lacking my other half, I am one person, whole & complete. My heart is undivided in its object of affection--and because of that, I am learning to love others more completely.
Louisa May Alcott wrote in her book "Eight Cousins" something to the effect of this: old maid aunties and bachelor uncles were put in this world for a purpose, to receive and nurture the affections of those children whose parents are too busy to do such themselves. This precious love would otherwise often be left without a recipient, and would wither away to nothing.
This is what I want to do. I don't want to fritter away my time waiting for a prince charming that might not (probably doesn't) even exist. What a waste! I want--and am pretty certain God wants too--to use what I've been given. And I've been given the gift, the blessing, of being "single".
Single, but never alone. Never unloved, and never--never never!--unloving.
Yep, that's been running around in my head for a while. Some other things that have been running include:
I watched more anime than I ever should've in the last couple of days... and as a result I'm going on strike from it. :P Who ever introduced me to that stuff anyway?! The really irritating thing about it is--at least with the stuff I was watching--you can't even do anything else and watch it at the same time! No, complete attention must be devoted to reading the subtitles! Ah well, at least they only come in 22 minute bits...
Today I began the day with--not a schedule! Instead I have a to-do list with a bunch of deadlines (real ones too, not just self-imposed! Be impressed, that's right, I live in the real world!). So when my plans got shot by other things happening I was able to end the day (rather, will be able to end the day... later) guilt-free! Some of the stuff was accomplished, I will be able to accomplish the rest. Huzzah no guilt! I'm always more productive when I have less baggage to carry. :)
That which threw my plans was actually my nephew coming over today! The 4yrold, Aaron, had a date with "Grammy" today, to decorate the Christmas tree. I helped, and "Poppy" sat nearby reading his book--and laughing at us discreetly, I'm sure. :) The tree looks far less bare than it did this morning, and far more cheerful. It was kind of interesting, some of those ornaments are older than I am! They were got on my parents' first tour in Germany, I was had during the second. German ornaments are so very ... wonderful! :)
After decorating the tree, Dad (Poppy) and I had fun wrestling with Aaron. He would no sooner be "rescued" by one of us than we would have him squealing for help from the other. At one point we were playing tug-of-war with him, he laughed uproariously the whole time, of course. :D
Anyhoo, I should be heading off to bed. This whole not-being-nocturnal thing is only barely working, so I'm going to try sleeping at night & seeing if that helps. Sweet dreams!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
I think; therefore, I am dangerous.
Speaking of thinking, I've been doing a lot of that lately. The process of trying to get my internal clock tweaked back into some semblance of ... well, as close to normalcy as I ever get... it's a process that has involved a lot of lying awake in bed trying to quiet my thoughts. In the process that whirlwind I call a mind has been visiting some very interesting topics lately. I get the idea that if only I could think on that level all the time I would soon have no troubles in life. But the mundane distracts and irritates, focus is lost, and life is more interesting.
It makes me think of story plots. Whenever someone uninitiated to the ways of storytelling watches a movie or reads a book & says "but wouldn't it have been simpler for so&so to do such&such instead?" Sure, but there would have been no story worth telling had they done so. Is it sad that I console myself about real life that way sometimes? Yeah, life would have been easier if I had done that or hadn't done this, but think of the great stories I would've missed out on living! :)
Am I a writer or what? :P Plotting: it's my life.
But anyhoo, I was speaking of sleepless nights and thoughtfilled silence (yes, I know thoughtfilled isn't a word, but thoughtful doesn't mean that anymore so :P).
One of the things I find myself doing at night is having conversations with people. I don't know how many people do this--I've heard everything from "oh yeah, I do that too, all the time!" to "you do what?! That's crazy!" So take your pick. But my inner dialogues often take the form of an imagined conversation between myself and an acquaintance--who exactly changes depending on the topic of conversation, but still. I try to have them answer as close to their personality as I can... sometimes that makes for interesting encounters with the person later, I've accidentally been very angry with a friend before because of how the imagined conversation went, only to have to remind myself when I met them later that such a conversation never actually happened, so I really shouldn't be angry at them.
Sometimes I wish I had the guts to have these conversations in reality, instead of just in my head. It's easy to speak my mind there--kind of hard not to, actually--but in reality? Psh, who knows what the person will actually say in response? It's ... terrifying, sometimes.
Wow I ramble a lot... I would apologize, but if you're reading this I suppose you already knew this & decided to read the blog anyway, hm? :)
I really don't like that word, "blog", it's so... it doesn't taste right. :P But this is ground I've already covered--onward! To knew & unexplored territory!
Have you ever considered how very dangerous it is to not think? We are told often how dangerous thinking can be--this is why when a totalitarian government--be it a group of people or a dictator--(I really like dashes, I never really thought about that before...:)takes over the first things to be brought under government control is the press and the arts. These things encourage people to think through things for themselves, and are dangerous to the new regime unless they feed the people thoughts that the government approves.
I think this may also be why the Church & the arts have had such a tumultuous past. Religion too is a threat to totalitarian governments, but not necessarily because it encourages independent thinking--more because it encourages loyalties to a different place than the government. But I digress, back to arts & Church.
Artists I've met & admired say they pursue truth, they seek to discover & present truth in whatever form they find it, that they may show it to any and all who wish to see it. As an artist that follows Christ I don't feel threatened by this because I think in terms of "all truth is God's truth". Even artists that do not know Him can reveal truths about His nature by their work, because everything that is actual truth comes from Him. So I believe.
If this is the case why has the Church felt so threatened by the arts in certain times in history?
I suppose, if we--and by "we" I include both artists & church-folk--were honest with ourselves in examining this, it could be thought that those periods of history when the arts--especially theatre--and the church were most at odds were a result of one (or both) of two things.
1. Artists ceased to seek truth and instead sought to shock, to push the envelope for the sake of merely pushing the envelope. They ceased to desire to be the ambassadors of truth to the masses, and instead wished only to serve themselves and their ambitions. This would lead to followers of truth rejecting what they had to say, because they no longer spoke truth--or is they did, the truth was not the focus of the work, but merely a tool with which to shock & horrify.
2. The church no longer desired to hear truth. Such times in history are frequent, unfortunately, and artists were not the only ones to suffer the wrath of the church at these times. Anyone who spoke truth contrary to the "acceptable truths" of the church and her leaders were subject to persecution. I wish it were otherwise, but if the Church today is to learn anything from the past it must be faced unflinchingly.
But I must leave off my ramblings here, my battery dieth & must go to find it an outlet. Happy thinking!
It makes me think of story plots. Whenever someone uninitiated to the ways of storytelling watches a movie or reads a book & says "but wouldn't it have been simpler for so&so to do such&such instead?" Sure, but there would have been no story worth telling had they done so. Is it sad that I console myself about real life that way sometimes? Yeah, life would have been easier if I had done that or hadn't done this, but think of the great stories I would've missed out on living! :)
Am I a writer or what? :P Plotting: it's my life.
But anyhoo, I was speaking of sleepless nights and thoughtfilled silence (yes, I know thoughtfilled isn't a word, but thoughtful doesn't mean that anymore so :P).
One of the things I find myself doing at night is having conversations with people. I don't know how many people do this--I've heard everything from "oh yeah, I do that too, all the time!" to "you do what?! That's crazy!" So take your pick. But my inner dialogues often take the form of an imagined conversation between myself and an acquaintance--who exactly changes depending on the topic of conversation, but still. I try to have them answer as close to their personality as I can... sometimes that makes for interesting encounters with the person later, I've accidentally been very angry with a friend before because of how the imagined conversation went, only to have to remind myself when I met them later that such a conversation never actually happened, so I really shouldn't be angry at them.
Sometimes I wish I had the guts to have these conversations in reality, instead of just in my head. It's easy to speak my mind there--kind of hard not to, actually--but in reality? Psh, who knows what the person will actually say in response? It's ... terrifying, sometimes.
Wow I ramble a lot... I would apologize, but if you're reading this I suppose you already knew this & decided to read the blog anyway, hm? :)
I really don't like that word, "blog", it's so... it doesn't taste right. :P But this is ground I've already covered--onward! To knew & unexplored territory!
Have you ever considered how very dangerous it is to not think? We are told often how dangerous thinking can be--this is why when a totalitarian government--be it a group of people or a dictator--(I really like dashes, I never really thought about that before...:)takes over the first things to be brought under government control is the press and the arts. These things encourage people to think through things for themselves, and are dangerous to the new regime unless they feed the people thoughts that the government approves.
I think this may also be why the Church & the arts have had such a tumultuous past. Religion too is a threat to totalitarian governments, but not necessarily because it encourages independent thinking--more because it encourages loyalties to a different place than the government. But I digress, back to arts & Church.
Artists I've met & admired say they pursue truth, they seek to discover & present truth in whatever form they find it, that they may show it to any and all who wish to see it. As an artist that follows Christ I don't feel threatened by this because I think in terms of "all truth is God's truth". Even artists that do not know Him can reveal truths about His nature by their work, because everything that is actual truth comes from Him. So I believe.
If this is the case why has the Church felt so threatened by the arts in certain times in history?
I suppose, if we--and by "we" I include both artists & church-folk--were honest with ourselves in examining this, it could be thought that those periods of history when the arts--especially theatre--and the church were most at odds were a result of one (or both) of two things.
1. Artists ceased to seek truth and instead sought to shock, to push the envelope for the sake of merely pushing the envelope. They ceased to desire to be the ambassadors of truth to the masses, and instead wished only to serve themselves and their ambitions. This would lead to followers of truth rejecting what they had to say, because they no longer spoke truth--or is they did, the truth was not the focus of the work, but merely a tool with which to shock & horrify.
2. The church no longer desired to hear truth. Such times in history are frequent, unfortunately, and artists were not the only ones to suffer the wrath of the church at these times. Anyone who spoke truth contrary to the "acceptable truths" of the church and her leaders were subject to persecution. I wish it were otherwise, but if the Church today is to learn anything from the past it must be faced unflinchingly.
But I must leave off my ramblings here, my battery dieth & must go to find it an outlet. Happy thinking!
If you put on flip-flops you're saying, "Hope I don't get chased today!"
I don't actually wear flip-flops myself... I don't want to take the pain necessary to develop that callus between the two toes needed to wear them comfortably.
It's the day after Thanksgiving, does that mean it's the Christmas season yet? I can sing Christmas songs without getting yelled at now, right? :)
For those of you who actually went out shopping on Black Friday, you're crazy & I'll pray for you... ;) I confess, I was not one of the masses mobbing the shops today. I remained at home, where we didn't put up our Christmas tree yet. I'm not entirely sure why, I think the day just got away from us. Story of my life.
Hey guess what y'all--this blog now has (officially) THREE FOLLOWERS! That's right, shout out to the new follower, you are noticed & much loved! :) <3
I played cards today for the first time in a long while. Mum & Dad & I went over to my sister's again for dinner tonight (leftovers from yesterday remade into new wonderfulness), and my niece coaxed some of us into playing "Liar" (known to some as Bull-S@$*), but the mothers didn't like us calling each other liars, so we yelled "poppycock!" instead... :)
Which, incidentally, sounds a lot like what we had for dinner. Have you ever had poppakosh? I have no idea if that's how it's spelled, but my sister's friend (the chef tonight) said that it's spelled as it sounds, & that's how it sounded to me... It's a Polish dish, made from shredded turkey/chicken, and a dumplingesque noodle, with a reddish sauce that has sour cream in it--unless you're me or my dad, in which case it's just a reddish sauce. I found it rather bland, but still very palatable.
Also, my Mum amuses me a lot sometimes. She has this computer game she likes playing anytime she gets a spare moment with the laptop (theirs, not mine); it's called Zuma, perhaps you've heard of it? In any case, she plays it enough that she's taken to trying to beat her own high scores. After one level she was so proud of the score she got that she took a picture of the screen with her cell phone & had to show it to me later that day. I admit, she showed it to me & at first I said "what am I looking for?" Then she told me what it was & all I could do was shake my head at her.
I wanted to make a random comment about what people say about my generation & technology... but I appear to have reached that hour when typing becomes more difficult & thoughts cease to appear in word form. So, I think I'll sign off here.
Sweet dreams all!
It's the day after Thanksgiving, does that mean it's the Christmas season yet? I can sing Christmas songs without getting yelled at now, right? :)
For those of you who actually went out shopping on Black Friday, you're crazy & I'll pray for you... ;) I confess, I was not one of the masses mobbing the shops today. I remained at home, where we didn't put up our Christmas tree yet. I'm not entirely sure why, I think the day just got away from us. Story of my life.
Hey guess what y'all--this blog now has (officially) THREE FOLLOWERS! That's right, shout out to the new follower, you are noticed & much loved! :) <3
I played cards today for the first time in a long while. Mum & Dad & I went over to my sister's again for dinner tonight (leftovers from yesterday remade into new wonderfulness), and my niece coaxed some of us into playing "Liar" (known to some as Bull-S@$*), but the mothers didn't like us calling each other liars, so we yelled "poppycock!" instead... :)
Which, incidentally, sounds a lot like what we had for dinner. Have you ever had poppakosh? I have no idea if that's how it's spelled, but my sister's friend (the chef tonight) said that it's spelled as it sounds, & that's how it sounded to me... It's a Polish dish, made from shredded turkey/chicken, and a dumplingesque noodle, with a reddish sauce that has sour cream in it--unless you're me or my dad, in which case it's just a reddish sauce. I found it rather bland, but still very palatable.
Also, my Mum amuses me a lot sometimes. She has this computer game she likes playing anytime she gets a spare moment with the laptop (theirs, not mine); it's called Zuma, perhaps you've heard of it? In any case, she plays it enough that she's taken to trying to beat her own high scores. After one level she was so proud of the score she got that she took a picture of the screen with her cell phone & had to show it to me later that day. I admit, she showed it to me & at first I said "what am I looking for?" Then she told me what it was & all I could do was shake my head at her.
I wanted to make a random comment about what people say about my generation & technology... but I appear to have reached that hour when typing becomes more difficult & thoughts cease to appear in word form. So, I think I'll sign off here.
Sweet dreams all!
Friday, November 26, 2010
CAREFUL: I use big words...
In case you haven't figured this out already, I've been using certain of my flair collection on Facebook to provide titles for these posts... original? Nope. But they can be very entertaining, & I think it's such a shame that my flair collection would simply go to waste otherwise. ;)
Today is/was Thanksgiving! Just in case you didn't catch that earlier, I thought you might appreciate being made aware.
It's interesting really. A whole day out of the year set aside to ... be thankful. To be grateful? But, why?
In the "National Thanksgiving Proclamation", as cited to George Washington & found at http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/National_Thanksgiving_Proclamation (that's right, I just cited a wiki, but it's okay because this isn't a scholarly work ;) the purpose of Thanksgiving is "a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness."
Awesome, yeah? A whole day set aside to give thanks & praise God for all the blessings He has & continues to give us as individuals, families, and a nation.
At least, that's what it was then. But what is it now?
I suppose for a follower of Christ, for those who acknowledge a higher power that blesses, it is a day to be thankful. But suppose the celebrator does not acknowledge a higher power in need of thanking? What then is being thanked on this holiday?
I suppose it could simply be an acknowledging of those blessings, regardless of the source, or perhaps independent of the source is a better phrasing... A day to sort of cultivate a "count your blessings" mentality, beneficial to the happy & prosperous living of everyday life... Maybe? That seems to make sense.
But I thank God.
For the family I live with, and live away from, and the love I bear them both.
For the friends near and far, and the multiplicity of ways I communicate with them.
For theatre, in all its forms, and the truth it strives to express.
For writing, in its many varied faces, and the freedom it brings my soul.
For my church families, in every place, and the kindred love we bear each other.
For the Church, "she may be a whore, but she's still my mother!" and I love her.
For painting, and the beauty in each brushstroke.
For music I make & that which I hear and the heartsong it gives voice to.
For health and youth, and that it won't last forever.
For Pumpkin pie, green bean casserole, cranberry fluff, and turkey.
For candles melting wax, and crayons that decorate green bottles.
For sleeping in a bed, under warm covers, with a teddy bear.
For heaters! Yay warmth!!
For the first snow... and that it didn't stick yet.
For shiny.
For laughter.
For tears.
For dreams.
For books.
For boots and trench coats.
For defenestration.
For spellcheck and that little red line under my words.
For freedom.
For liberty.
For grace.
For mercy.
For hope.
Most of all, for love. That's really what I couldn't do without, and it's what it all comes down to.
Thank you, Father-God, Lord of my heart, Love of my Life, Creator of every Good, and my Friend, for showing me this wild Love.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Today is/was Thanksgiving! Just in case you didn't catch that earlier, I thought you might appreciate being made aware.
It's interesting really. A whole day out of the year set aside to ... be thankful. To be grateful? But, why?
In the "National Thanksgiving Proclamation", as cited to George Washington & found at http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/National_Thanksgiving_Proclamation (that's right, I just cited a wiki, but it's okay because this isn't a scholarly work ;) the purpose of Thanksgiving is "a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness."
Awesome, yeah? A whole day set aside to give thanks & praise God for all the blessings He has & continues to give us as individuals, families, and a nation.
At least, that's what it was then. But what is it now?
I suppose for a follower of Christ, for those who acknowledge a higher power that blesses, it is a day to be thankful. But suppose the celebrator does not acknowledge a higher power in need of thanking? What then is being thanked on this holiday?
I suppose it could simply be an acknowledging of those blessings, regardless of the source, or perhaps independent of the source is a better phrasing... A day to sort of cultivate a "count your blessings" mentality, beneficial to the happy & prosperous living of everyday life... Maybe? That seems to make sense.
But I thank God.
For the family I live with, and live away from, and the love I bear them both.
For the friends near and far, and the multiplicity of ways I communicate with them.
For theatre, in all its forms, and the truth it strives to express.
For writing, in its many varied faces, and the freedom it brings my soul.
For my church families, in every place, and the kindred love we bear each other.
For the Church, "she may be a whore, but she's still my mother!" and I love her.
For painting, and the beauty in each brushstroke.
For music I make & that which I hear and the heartsong it gives voice to.
For health and youth, and that it won't last forever.
For Pumpkin pie, green bean casserole, cranberry fluff, and turkey.
For candles melting wax, and crayons that decorate green bottles.
For sleeping in a bed, under warm covers, with a teddy bear.
For heaters! Yay warmth!!
For the first snow... and that it didn't stick yet.
For shiny.
For laughter.
For tears.
For dreams.
For books.
For boots and trench coats.
For defenestration.
For spellcheck and that little red line under my words.
For freedom.
For liberty.
For grace.
For mercy.
For hope.
Most of all, for love. That's really what I couldn't do without, and it's what it all comes down to.
Thank you, Father-God, Lord of my heart, Love of my Life, Creator of every Good, and my Friend, for showing me this wild Love.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain.
I just have to share something that made me laugh (silently) a lot today...
Actual conversation I overheard between my niece & nephew (13 & 9 respectively, & yes, they're siblings):
Aiden: Oooow!! What'd you bite me for?!
Bailey: What are you talking about?
Aiden: YOU BIT ME!! Why'd you bite me?!
Bailey: 'Cause you sat on my face!
Aiden: You didn't have to bite me!
Sorry Aiden, I kinda have to side with Bailey on this one, sitting on a face is asking to get bit. :)
Also, I was going through some of the stuff I kept from playwrighting class, and stumbled upon a sort of "autobiography" we were asked to write. It was never graded, & it's a first draft, but it does save time on trying to fill in details later... :) Unfortunately it's a first draft, & I don't really care enough to edit something like this, so here it is in its roughest form. Have fun! :)
Actual conversation I overheard between my niece & nephew (13 & 9 respectively, & yes, they're siblings):
Aiden: Oooow!! What'd you bite me for?!
Bailey: What are you talking about?
Aiden: YOU BIT ME!! Why'd you bite me?!
Bailey: 'Cause you sat on my face!
Aiden: You didn't have to bite me!
Sorry Aiden, I kinda have to side with Bailey on this one, sitting on a face is asking to get bit. :)
Also, I was going through some of the stuff I kept from playwrighting class, and stumbled upon a sort of "autobiography" we were asked to write. It was never graded, & it's a first draft, but it does save time on trying to fill in details later... :) Unfortunately it's a first draft, & I don't really care enough to edit something like this, so here it is in its roughest form. Have fun! :)
I was born on March 9, 1988 on a rather small military base in Stuttgart, West Germany. This birth began a life full of irony in multiple ways. From the first snow to revenging my mother on an irritating doctor, my earliest infancy was filled with entertaining stories.
“What, are you teething?” I asked my friend, Matt, as he sat nursing his jaw against a cold bottle of water.
His girlfriend spoke for him, “Yes, poor guy!”
I asked if it was his wisdom teeth and—true to the dynamic of my group of friends—this innocent phrase had the three of us in a completely different topic before I could blink.
“You should write this bit about the wisdom teeth down!” Amanda said, returning to the topic that started the conversation.
“Yeah, that would make a good bridge between past and present.”
My time in Germany was very short. My family moved to Virginia when I was six months old, then spent another two years in Germany beginning when I was three. So I am afraid that I really cannot share anything from personal experience about German culture, all of my stories being from my interaction with the other military kids.
“Are you okay?” Amanda laughed as I made a disgusted face.
“Yeah,” I set my coffee cup down. “It was just the dregs.”
The conversation drifted to coffee, then to chocolate, then off onto another seemingly random topic that was somehow connected to everything we had discussed. Finally, being typical college students, we found ourselves talking about classes.
“There are two people in this class that aren’t in the other class, and two people in that class that aren’t in the first class,” Amanda explained.
I laughed and said, “That sounds like all of my theatre classes!”
Amanda told us about another of her English classes. “I meant to write ‘Spring Break’, but he was talking about ducks and I ended up writing ‘Spring Duck’!”
Matt turned to me. “You should write about the ducks,” he directed.
“Write about the ducks that jump twenty feet out of the trees and bounce!”
I laughed and bent over my notebook once more.
When I was five years old, my father received orders for us to move stateside once more. So off my parents, sisters, and I went to Minnesota. We only stayed in Minnesota for a short time though, to say hello to my mother’s family. From there we progressed to New York State.
I remember that I loved New York as a child, but my parents told me later that it was one of the less pleasant duty stations we lived at. Yet, for me, West Point, New York is where most of my early childhood memories formed.
Matt and Amanda have gone now. Such is life for college students: socializing squeezed into the midst of classes, homework, and (for some) rehearsals—or vice versa, for some. I look around me at the other students in the coffee-shop and see that they, like me, all have a book, laptop, notebook, or all three held in front of them while they break their fast.
I waved as my RA entered Sufficient Grounds, and she walked over to say hello. She’s a very easy person to talk to, especially because she makes a point to befriend the girls in her hall. Our conversation wandered from my finger and its recovery to Christmas Break. Then she said goodbye as she went to find her own table at which to study.
We lived in two different houses in New York. Then my family bid farewell to the state entirely when we made the four-day move to New Mexico. I was eight when we began living in the desert, and ten when my father retired and we moved to Minnesota for another short layover. From there we went to Texas, a state I learned to call home. I made many friends there, and grew into a maturity that marks the passing of childhood for some, and the beginning of new knowledge for others. Yet, we could not stay, and in my freshman year of high school my family moved to Illinois.
I never loved Illinois, and the feeling was mutual in most cases. So I was only too glad to come to Bethel College and begin life anew as a college student.
Sitting by myself in this coffee-shop, I listen to the ambient sounds and reflect. My life has been short thus far, but full, and I have many stories I love to tell. This love for storytelling, combined with my love of writing and theatre has led me to enroll in a playwriting class this semester. Thinking of this class and others, I wonder what new stories the upcoming months will bring. This thought makes me smile as I don my coat and walk into the snow.
Anyways, yep. That's the post for today. Have a grand Thanksgiving all! :)
"And they lived happily ever after.".......................................114
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Never put a sock in a toaster
Just in case you should be contemplating that, don't do it!
It strikes me that this whole act of "blogging" (I dislike that it is called that, it's such a ... well, the word itself is unimaginative & ugly. *sigh* Dumb English language...) is really rather amusing.
I was reading some of The Diary of Anne Frank today, and in one of her first entries she remarks on how unlikely it is that anyone will ever read--or be prone to want to read--what she has to write. Yet, years later, her diary has been published, translated into many other languages, adapted for screen & stage, and has a museum in her honor. People still speak of what she wrote (as I'm doing now), yet she never thought they would even be interested in what she has to say. A strange kind of occurrence, yeah?
How different is blogging from that? Instead of being quiet & unassuming, writing merely for the catharsis of it, every person that posts knows on some level that they post it online knowing--or hoping--that it will be read.
Is it possible to write for others and for one's own catharsis as well?
I sure hope so. :) If not I fear I've been wasting my time.
I've heard it said that to be a writer only one thing is necessary: to wake up in the morning and want nothing more than to write. I don't know how true this is, but it's what has kept me journaling for years, & part of what led to my blogging. It's what kept me scribbling away long after I thought "This is such rubbish, no one will ever want to read this!"
Being involved in theatre, I've heard more times than I can count "know your audience". I have to confess though, when I write I don't really do so for the audience. I do it for myself, for the unburdening of my soul to the page. Then if anyone wants to read it, well, some of it anyway, they can take whatever comes.
Even for writing plays, including that "commissioned" 10-minute that was the final for playwrighting class, I don't really think I wrote for an audience. I wrote knowing certain parameters must needs be met, and knowing certain people would read it, but that's not really the why of writing it.
Perhaps writing isn't even something done for enjoyment. Perhaps it is something done because it's what I was created to do. It is my reasonable act of worship, my living sacrifice, that part of myself that is an integral to being me as ... as my soul.
On a metaphysical level, would I still be myself if I did not write? Of course I would, I've gone days without writing before. But at some level there was still that yearning for putting words to the page. Perhaps that's it: would I still be myself if I did not want to write? I've never wanted to not want to write. I've never really considered the second order volition with regards to writing before. But I don't really remember there being a time when that desire, that itch, was not present.
Strange stuff, this blogging thingummy. It's almost like journaling, except I know with relative certainty that someone will be reading this soon. Yet, I'm almost as free with words here as I am when I know the thoughts I pen are for no other eyes than my own. Is this transparency? Or simply picking the right topic? I'll have to think about that one for a bit.
"For a dreamer, night's the only time of day."
Also: apparently "journaling" and "playwriting" are not real words, but "thingummy" is. Go figure.
It strikes me that this whole act of "blogging" (I dislike that it is called that, it's such a ... well, the word itself is unimaginative & ugly. *sigh* Dumb English language...) is really rather amusing.
I was reading some of The Diary of Anne Frank today, and in one of her first entries she remarks on how unlikely it is that anyone will ever read--or be prone to want to read--what she has to write. Yet, years later, her diary has been published, translated into many other languages, adapted for screen & stage, and has a museum in her honor. People still speak of what she wrote (as I'm doing now), yet she never thought they would even be interested in what she has to say. A strange kind of occurrence, yeah?
How different is blogging from that? Instead of being quiet & unassuming, writing merely for the catharsis of it, every person that posts knows on some level that they post it online knowing--or hoping--that it will be read.
Is it possible to write for others and for one's own catharsis as well?
I sure hope so. :) If not I fear I've been wasting my time.
I've heard it said that to be a writer only one thing is necessary: to wake up in the morning and want nothing more than to write. I don't know how true this is, but it's what has kept me journaling for years, & part of what led to my blogging. It's what kept me scribbling away long after I thought "This is such rubbish, no one will ever want to read this!"
Being involved in theatre, I've heard more times than I can count "know your audience". I have to confess though, when I write I don't really do so for the audience. I do it for myself, for the unburdening of my soul to the page. Then if anyone wants to read it, well, some of it anyway, they can take whatever comes.
Even for writing plays, including that "commissioned" 10-minute that was the final for playwrighting class, I don't really think I wrote for an audience. I wrote knowing certain parameters must needs be met, and knowing certain people would read it, but that's not really the why of writing it.
Perhaps writing isn't even something done for enjoyment. Perhaps it is something done because it's what I was created to do. It is my reasonable act of worship, my living sacrifice, that part of myself that is an integral to being me as ... as my soul.
On a metaphysical level, would I still be myself if I did not write? Of course I would, I've gone days without writing before. But at some level there was still that yearning for putting words to the page. Perhaps that's it: would I still be myself if I did not want to write? I've never wanted to not want to write. I've never really considered the second order volition with regards to writing before. But I don't really remember there being a time when that desire, that itch, was not present.
Strange stuff, this blogging thingummy. It's almost like journaling, except I know with relative certainty that someone will be reading this soon. Yet, I'm almost as free with words here as I am when I know the thoughts I pen are for no other eyes than my own. Is this transparency? Or simply picking the right topic? I'll have to think about that one for a bit.
"For a dreamer, night's the only time of day."
Also: apparently "journaling" and "playwriting" are not real words, but "thingummy" is. Go figure.
Monday, November 22, 2010
"To Live, to Live will be a great Adventure" --Peter Pan
Cloudy, but warm--that's the kind of weather I can live with, & I love it! it's all gloomy, but comfortable, and mysterious.
After all, "Sad is happy, for deep people." :) Thank you Sally Sparrow.
It's Thanksgiving week! And I find myself with every evening this week left completely free of any scheduled activities. Actually, the only "scheduled" thing I have to do this week is dinner with the family on Thursday. I may go mad, we'll see. If I do, I'll keep you updated. ;)
But seriously, it's so crazy, not having anything scheduled to do. For the four years of my college career I had almost literally to plot out every hour because there was so much that needed to get done and so little time that was not already committed. Now there's no less that needs to get done, but no schedule that goes with it. Is this being an adult?
I was talking with a good friend about something like this, & how I feel like I'm failing at life because I can't manage to multi-task without a schedule--but I also fail and keeping a schedule. He gave me some advice that I've been chewing on ever since: "direct your show, and stage manage your life". I proceeded to tell him that the only way I'd managed to stage manage as well as I did had been because I'd scheduled even those rare hours in my day that weren't taken by classes, rehearsals, work, church, and other things. Then he told how wrong I was to think that was going to work anymore.
So my instincts were correct--scrap the schedule & work from a to-do list. I was also delighted to hear him call all those forms stage managers use "busy-work". I didn't even know half of them existed, & didn't have time to make them even if I'd known of them, & had felt very discouraged when they were shown to me. But it's okay now, because I didn't really need them anyway. :)
I guess we'll try something new this week. Well, not new, exactly, just a different method of doing the same thing. Wasn't it Einstein that said something to the effect of "Insanity: doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results." ?
Yep. Trying something new. Woot. :) & Going crazy, that should be fun too.
I keep stalling because I have that nagging feeling that says "you were going to write something else too", but I can't quite remember what it was... That seems to be happening a lot lately, I think I may suck at this whole blogger thing, but oh well. I haven't lost either follower yet... ;)
Well, on more thing, then if that idea hasn't returned by then I'll just go.
One of my haunts that has wifi is McDonald's. There's a corner table for two behind a pillar thing that provides a lovely illusion of privacy, and I try to take up as little space as possible when I'm there for interwebs instead of food or people. To follow the rules I get a Dr. Pepper & sit back there listening to music & using the interwebs until my battery dies (my one complaint is the lack of any electrical outlet in the accessible part of the building). Naturally, I don't want to bother others with my music, so I wear headphones/earbuds/whatever. But I usually wear them in such a fashion that I can still hear what's going on around me--the importance of situational awareness having been drummed into my head from a young age.
But apparently this presence of headphones offended one the older gentlemen, who grumbled to his friend something about "younger folks", "wifi or something", and "can't hear a thing through those earphones". I looked over at him, looked him in the eye, smiled & shook my head. He looked a bit startled, then I re-immersed myself in whatever I'd been reading.
Nope, whatever it was didn't show. Ah well, maybe next time I'll have the presence of mind to jot it down before it flits away.
"Hamlet: the original Emo." ................................116
After all, "Sad is happy, for deep people." :) Thank you Sally Sparrow.
It's Thanksgiving week! And I find myself with every evening this week left completely free of any scheduled activities. Actually, the only "scheduled" thing I have to do this week is dinner with the family on Thursday. I may go mad, we'll see. If I do, I'll keep you updated. ;)
But seriously, it's so crazy, not having anything scheduled to do. For the four years of my college career I had almost literally to plot out every hour because there was so much that needed to get done and so little time that was not already committed. Now there's no less that needs to get done, but no schedule that goes with it. Is this being an adult?
I was talking with a good friend about something like this, & how I feel like I'm failing at life because I can't manage to multi-task without a schedule--but I also fail and keeping a schedule. He gave me some advice that I've been chewing on ever since: "direct your show, and stage manage your life". I proceeded to tell him that the only way I'd managed to stage manage as well as I did had been because I'd scheduled even those rare hours in my day that weren't taken by classes, rehearsals, work, church, and other things. Then he told how wrong I was to think that was going to work anymore.
So my instincts were correct--scrap the schedule & work from a to-do list. I was also delighted to hear him call all those forms stage managers use "busy-work". I didn't even know half of them existed, & didn't have time to make them even if I'd known of them, & had felt very discouraged when they were shown to me. But it's okay now, because I didn't really need them anyway. :)
I guess we'll try something new this week. Well, not new, exactly, just a different method of doing the same thing. Wasn't it Einstein that said something to the effect of "Insanity: doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results." ?
Yep. Trying something new. Woot. :) & Going crazy, that should be fun too.
I keep stalling because I have that nagging feeling that says "you were going to write something else too", but I can't quite remember what it was... That seems to be happening a lot lately, I think I may suck at this whole blogger thing, but oh well. I haven't lost either follower yet... ;)
Well, on more thing, then if that idea hasn't returned by then I'll just go.
One of my haunts that has wifi is McDonald's. There's a corner table for two behind a pillar thing that provides a lovely illusion of privacy, and I try to take up as little space as possible when I'm there for interwebs instead of food or people. To follow the rules I get a Dr. Pepper & sit back there listening to music & using the interwebs until my battery dies (my one complaint is the lack of any electrical outlet in the accessible part of the building). Naturally, I don't want to bother others with my music, so I wear headphones/earbuds/whatever. But I usually wear them in such a fashion that I can still hear what's going on around me--the importance of situational awareness having been drummed into my head from a young age.
But apparently this presence of headphones offended one the older gentlemen, who grumbled to his friend something about "younger folks", "wifi or something", and "can't hear a thing through those earphones". I looked over at him, looked him in the eye, smiled & shook my head. He looked a bit startled, then I re-immersed myself in whatever I'd been reading.
Nope, whatever it was didn't show. Ah well, maybe next time I'll have the presence of mind to jot it down before it flits away.
"Hamlet: the original Emo." ................................116
Saturday, November 20, 2010
"Death: the #1 killer in the USA... tell your friends" 117
So Lily the Felon's Daughter closed last night. It always seems like such a shame to me, so much work for 2 shows. Ah well.
Monty had a blue mustache. It was kind of hysterical. :) And no worries, nothing broke, and no one fell off the stage! I think it was our best show yet.
I just wish I could have fully appreciated the post-show "glow/high", whatever you want to call it. But I was... distracted... by some problems going on elsewhere that I was made aware of, but couldn't actually do anything about. For the sake of diplomacy, that's all I'm saying here, at least until I can speak to the people responsible & fix this.
Unfortunately that can't happen until tomorrow, and I keep getting wound up & angry over it. I had a bit of a meltdown this afternoon. Grrrbah. Mom & I talked about it, & we agreed that it would be best if I got over the angries today, so they won't interfere tomorrow. I tend to cry when I get angry, and that tends to make people stop seeing me as a rational adult & reduce me to the status of a 7-year-old. Darn my tear ducts! With knitting needles! ;)
But hey, Thanksgiving is this week! Woot! Church is having their feast tomorrow--and I do not use the term "feast" in jest, we really do serve it up in style--or at least in quantity! :D
Oh, & I found out that my being a writer may not be as much of a fluke as I formally thought it was... Apparently Dad was a bit of a writer once upon a time. :) I never would have guessed! Mom said her mum was too, but she only used her talent for scathing remarks to people... May that never be the sole use of my talents!
Today was my nephew's birthday party (one of them, it's tradition in my family for everyone to get at least three, usually with a different group each time), and we went to an arcadish place called "Jupiter's". It was fun... I mostly played Guitar Hero--I rock, by the way, Guitar Hero says so & it never lies. ;) It's so weird to think of the kid as being as old as he is, I remember--but I'm making myself feel older than I ought. Hehehe...
Well, my battery's dying, & I should skedaddle. Enjoy the cloudy days!
"Therapy is expensive. Popping bubblewrap is cheap. You choose."
Monty had a blue mustache. It was kind of hysterical. :) And no worries, nothing broke, and no one fell off the stage! I think it was our best show yet.
I just wish I could have fully appreciated the post-show "glow/high", whatever you want to call it. But I was... distracted... by some problems going on elsewhere that I was made aware of, but couldn't actually do anything about. For the sake of diplomacy, that's all I'm saying here, at least until I can speak to the people responsible & fix this.
Unfortunately that can't happen until tomorrow, and I keep getting wound up & angry over it. I had a bit of a meltdown this afternoon. Grrrbah. Mom & I talked about it, & we agreed that it would be best if I got over the angries today, so they won't interfere tomorrow. I tend to cry when I get angry, and that tends to make people stop seeing me as a rational adult & reduce me to the status of a 7-year-old. Darn my tear ducts! With knitting needles! ;)
But hey, Thanksgiving is this week! Woot! Church is having their feast tomorrow--and I do not use the term "feast" in jest, we really do serve it up in style--or at least in quantity! :D
Oh, & I found out that my being a writer may not be as much of a fluke as I formally thought it was... Apparently Dad was a bit of a writer once upon a time. :) I never would have guessed! Mom said her mum was too, but she only used her talent for scathing remarks to people... May that never be the sole use of my talents!
Today was my nephew's birthday party (one of them, it's tradition in my family for everyone to get at least three, usually with a different group each time), and we went to an arcadish place called "Jupiter's". It was fun... I mostly played Guitar Hero--I rock, by the way, Guitar Hero says so & it never lies. ;) It's so weird to think of the kid as being as old as he is, I remember--but I'm making myself feel older than I ought. Hehehe...
Well, my battery's dying, & I should skedaddle. Enjoy the cloudy days!
"Therapy is expensive. Popping bubblewrap is cheap. You choose."
Friday, November 19, 2010
"When life hands you lemons make grapejuice. Then sit back and watch the world wonder how you did it." 118
I hate it when this happens.
For the past day or two I've been without the blag-o-blag, mainly because the interwebs in my room decided to take a vacation. But I kept thinking of things to write about, funny anecdotes, jokes, interesting experiences--you know, the stuff one would normally write about if they write like me. But I get to the library, start up the lappy, and what comes to mind?
Nada.
But no fear, in the time it took to write that paragraph I've remembered some of what I wanted to write about. :)
Last night was opening night! We only broke three things... :)
First casualty: the curtain rod. For those who aren't familiar with the space, we're performing in a mansion, and the room chosen is this beautiful & huge hallway, separated from this conservatoryish area by a wall of glass-paned doors on the side that we're using for a backstage space. It's an alleyway setup, and for an entrance/exit a set of the doors was opened, a set of stairs installed, and a curtain hung from a curtain rod to mask the area. In his enthusiasm, our dear Monty was a little too vigorous in flinging open the curtains, and snapped that rod like a twig. The rest of the first act was passed by our director in holding the middle of the rod up with a long pole, and by actors in trying not to run into the director in our comings & goings. No worries though, it was fixed in intermission!
Second casualty: The desk. Well, the knob of the desk, really. There's a particular scene in which the villain sneaks in & steals the money from the desk (I hope I haven't ruined the show for you--the villain did it! Hahaha!). Well, he was a smidge too excited about it, because he ended up ripping the knob right off the drawer, and he had to open it from the sides instead.
Third casualty: the box. Same actor, same scene, moments after #2. His energy was still a bit too high, apparently, because after prying open the desk he took out the box from whence he was to lift the dough, and yanked the lid clear off its hinges. This made it a bit difficult for the heroine later when she was supposed to take the box out & be unaware of the money's disappearance...
Hopefully tonight we'll break legs instead of other things...
Oh! & I almost fell off the stage in my last scene. There's a bit of a gap between the stage and the wall... and I found it when I tried letting someone into the parlor... thankfully I found the wall as well though, so I wasn't casualty #4.
Yep. In other news: my nephew's birthday was also yesterday, & his party is tomorrow. Woot! :) I get to go too! :D
Also, tonight I'm leaving my SM in charge of Christmas Musical rehearsal. Hopefully by the time tonight is done everyone will have their lines memorized... or be at least a little more familiar with them.
Well, I hafta go get dinner & makeupped & all that. Ciao!
For the past day or two I've been without the blag-o-blag, mainly because the interwebs in my room decided to take a vacation. But I kept thinking of things to write about, funny anecdotes, jokes, interesting experiences--you know, the stuff one would normally write about if they write like me. But I get to the library, start up the lappy, and what comes to mind?
Nada.
But no fear, in the time it took to write that paragraph I've remembered some of what I wanted to write about. :)
Last night was opening night! We only broke three things... :)
First casualty: the curtain rod. For those who aren't familiar with the space, we're performing in a mansion, and the room chosen is this beautiful & huge hallway, separated from this conservatoryish area by a wall of glass-paned doors on the side that we're using for a backstage space. It's an alleyway setup, and for an entrance/exit a set of the doors was opened, a set of stairs installed, and a curtain hung from a curtain rod to mask the area. In his enthusiasm, our dear Monty was a little too vigorous in flinging open the curtains, and snapped that rod like a twig. The rest of the first act was passed by our director in holding the middle of the rod up with a long pole, and by actors in trying not to run into the director in our comings & goings. No worries though, it was fixed in intermission!
Second casualty: The desk. Well, the knob of the desk, really. There's a particular scene in which the villain sneaks in & steals the money from the desk (I hope I haven't ruined the show for you--the villain did it! Hahaha!). Well, he was a smidge too excited about it, because he ended up ripping the knob right off the drawer, and he had to open it from the sides instead.
Third casualty: the box. Same actor, same scene, moments after #2. His energy was still a bit too high, apparently, because after prying open the desk he took out the box from whence he was to lift the dough, and yanked the lid clear off its hinges. This made it a bit difficult for the heroine later when she was supposed to take the box out & be unaware of the money's disappearance...
Hopefully tonight we'll break legs instead of other things...
Oh! & I almost fell off the stage in my last scene. There's a bit of a gap between the stage and the wall... and I found it when I tried letting someone into the parlor... thankfully I found the wall as well though, so I wasn't casualty #4.
Yep. In other news: my nephew's birthday was also yesterday, & his party is tomorrow. Woot! :) I get to go too! :D
Also, tonight I'm leaving my SM in charge of Christmas Musical rehearsal. Hopefully by the time tonight is done everyone will have their lines memorized... or be at least a little more familiar with them.
Well, I hafta go get dinner & makeupped & all that. Ciao!
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
It was a nice idea...
That lovely scheduled plan I went to the trouble of thinking through for today?
Yeah, so it didn't happen. It kind of got rearranged.
A few times.
By noon.
:P
A well, the best laid plans of mice & men... If you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans.
Forget plans, I think I like to-do lists better.
Well, dinner & rehearsal are still happening. So is writing probably.
I wish I were hanging out with friends tonight. I miss you all so much. <3
"Do what you love and you will find someone who loves the same thing. Don't look for love, beg for love, or suffer for love. Just live."
"Friends are like potatoes: if you eat them, they die."
119
Yeah, so it didn't happen. It kind of got rearranged.
A few times.
By noon.
:P
A well, the best laid plans of mice & men... If you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans.
Forget plans, I think I like to-do lists better.
Well, dinner & rehearsal are still happening. So is writing probably.
I wish I were hanging out with friends tonight. I miss you all so much. <3
"Do what you love and you will find someone who loves the same thing. Don't look for love, beg for love, or suffer for love. Just live."
"Friends are like potatoes: if you eat them, they die."
119
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Twice in one day! What's going on?!
Aaaah!
Hehehe... So I thought maybe if I post this I'd be more likely to actually follow through with it. You all have to hold me to this tomorrow list thingummy, 'kay? :)
Let's see... when to start the day...
We'll say 8am. Not too drastic, but plenty early enough. So I'll awake at 8, give myself 2 hours in which I am going to go through the arduous process of becoming a human being, then get into the real work of the day.
What have I got so far...
8am--wake up
8-10--transform into human being
The work of the day is mainly concerned with my room & assisting it in a metamorphasis from disaster incarnate to a clean living space with sealed windows & the ability to use a space heater. (Nothing like a lack of heat to motivate, yeah?) So how long does that last... I'll give it until 3pm.
8am--wake up
8-10--humanize self
10am-3pm (w/ 1hour lunch break)--cleaning
Then I need some solid interwebs time, so we'll say an hour for that...
8am--arise! Thou sluggard!
8-10--It's alive! I think... well, it's getting there.
10am-3pm (d'you think they know about second breakfasts?)--Scour the uncharted territories
3-4--Wifi time at the local of my choosing on the whim to be found then
Then there's actual scheduled stuff that happens, helping at church w/ dinner, getting ready for the show, rehearsal... Oh! I almost forgot, I have to find the Allerton House somewhere in there... Better allot an hour for that, I have a tendency to get lost easily...
8am--pry myself out of my coffin...
8-10--...with the assistance of coffee...
10am-2pm--do battle with mine enemies the riffraff of mine territories
2-3--locate Allerton House, go!
3-4--interwebs hunting!
4-6--help w/ church dinner
6-6:45--make ready for the evening's antics
6:45-7--in transit to the anticsness
7-9--Making a scene... or an act... or two. Yeah rehearsal!
9-10:30ish--familia ness
10:30-whenever--writing! :)
Of course, the last two might not happen, depending on if I find anything else to occupy my time with. But that's likely what will happen.
Maybe with a little self-imposed structure I'll actually be able to accomplish something tomorrow. I'll let you know then, regardless of the actual results!
... Of course, I'm kind of hoping they'll be good ones... :) I do get irritated when I don't get anything done.
"Not all who wander are lost" ~J.R.R. Tolkien.... .....................120 :)
Hehehe... So I thought maybe if I post this I'd be more likely to actually follow through with it. You all have to hold me to this tomorrow list thingummy, 'kay? :)
Let's see... when to start the day...
We'll say 8am. Not too drastic, but plenty early enough. So I'll awake at 8, give myself 2 hours in which I am going to go through the arduous process of becoming a human being, then get into the real work of the day.
What have I got so far...
8am--wake up
8-10--transform into human being
The work of the day is mainly concerned with my room & assisting it in a metamorphasis from disaster incarnate to a clean living space with sealed windows & the ability to use a space heater. (Nothing like a lack of heat to motivate, yeah?) So how long does that last... I'll give it until 3pm.
8am--wake up
8-10--humanize self
10am-3pm (w/ 1hour lunch break)--cleaning
Then I need some solid interwebs time, so we'll say an hour for that...
8am--arise! Thou sluggard!
8-10--It's alive! I think... well, it's getting there.
10am-3pm (d'you think they know about second breakfasts?)--Scour the uncharted territories
3-4--Wifi time at the local of my choosing on the whim to be found then
Then there's actual scheduled stuff that happens, helping at church w/ dinner, getting ready for the show, rehearsal... Oh! I almost forgot, I have to find the Allerton House somewhere in there... Better allot an hour for that, I have a tendency to get lost easily...
8am--pry myself out of my coffin...
8-10--...with the assistance of coffee...
10am-2pm--do battle with mine enemies the riffraff of mine territories
2-3--locate Allerton House, go!
3-4--interwebs hunting!
4-6--help w/ church dinner
6-6:45--make ready for the evening's antics
6:45-7--in transit to the anticsness
7-9--Making a scene... or an act... or two. Yeah rehearsal!
9-10:30ish--familia ness
10:30-whenever--writing! :)
Of course, the last two might not happen, depending on if I find anything else to occupy my time with. But that's likely what will happen.
Maybe with a little self-imposed structure I'll actually be able to accomplish something tomorrow. I'll let you know then, regardless of the actual results!
... Of course, I'm kind of hoping they'll be good ones... :) I do get irritated when I don't get anything done.
"Not all who wander are lost" ~J.R.R. Tolkien.... .....................120 :)
Tiny Marshmallows
One of my favorite ways to stay warm: Hot chocolate, with just a dash of instant coffee for flavoring, & a mound of marshmallows on top. Yay marshmallows!
SO let's see, what's new... hmm....
It's show-week for the MTA's Lily the Felon's Daughter, and wife, and niece, and would-be girlfriend... hehehe... everyone in that family ends up being a felon by the end... Okay, maybe not technically, but almost!
So yeah, show-week, and I'm not going to make it to the rehearsal for The Present is the Future--the kids' Christmas musical--on Friday, because I'll be performing. It'll be fine though, I'm leaving my fantastic Stage Manager in charge, and she'll be grand. :)
Also, reading a new book! God is Great, God is Good: Why Believing in God is Reasonable and Responsible by Chad V. Meister (my philosophy prof. at Bethel) and William Lane Craig--edited and partially written by them, actually. It's actually a compilation of essays by various leading thinkers in cosmology, astrophysics, biology, theology, and philosophy--all written in response to the New Atheism movement and its leaders. So far it's very interesting, but I plan to read more from both sides before drawing conclusions.
Hmmm...
I feel like I should be writing something, but I'm not sure what that something is... So many possibilities, so many ideas, so little structure...
The things I shouldbe doing right now are staring me full in the face... the problem? I don't want to do them. I want to do other things... like write. But writing isn't on my list of things I should be doing, so I don't actually write (well, okay, I write here... does that count?), I just think about writing & am distracted from doing what I should be doing... Whew, vicious circle, hm?
Either way, nothing's getting done.
What I need is structure, a schedule, even if it can't be routine. A time for everything, and everything in its time...
Tonight, after rehearsal, I'm scheduling every minute of tomorrow. Maybe that will help. I'll let you know tomorrow how well I kept it... ;)
I feel like lots of time tomorrow will be cleaning... my room is a disaster area! And writing, I want to write, I miss it!
Maybe tomorrow will also include going somewhere with a reliable wifi connection, instead of the spottiness I get in my room if I sit in a certain place holding my laptop just right. :P
Well, I think that's all for now. Maybe I'll be able to post this today... if the wireless let's me back on.
"Be a Fruit Loop in a world full of Cheerios"
SO let's see, what's new... hmm....
It's show-week for the MTA's Lily the Felon's Daughter, and wife, and niece, and would-be girlfriend... hehehe... everyone in that family ends up being a felon by the end... Okay, maybe not technically, but almost!
So yeah, show-week, and I'm not going to make it to the rehearsal for The Present is the Future--the kids' Christmas musical--on Friday, because I'll be performing. It'll be fine though, I'm leaving my fantastic Stage Manager in charge, and she'll be grand. :)
Also, reading a new book! God is Great, God is Good: Why Believing in God is Reasonable and Responsible by Chad V. Meister (my philosophy prof. at Bethel) and William Lane Craig--edited and partially written by them, actually. It's actually a compilation of essays by various leading thinkers in cosmology, astrophysics, biology, theology, and philosophy--all written in response to the New Atheism movement and its leaders. So far it's very interesting, but I plan to read more from both sides before drawing conclusions.
Hmmm...
I feel like I should be writing something, but I'm not sure what that something is... So many possibilities, so many ideas, so little structure...
The things I shouldbe doing right now are staring me full in the face... the problem? I don't want to do them. I want to do other things... like write. But writing isn't on my list of things I should be doing, so I don't actually write (well, okay, I write here... does that count?), I just think about writing & am distracted from doing what I should be doing... Whew, vicious circle, hm?
Either way, nothing's getting done.
What I need is structure, a schedule, even if it can't be routine. A time for everything, and everything in its time...
Tonight, after rehearsal, I'm scheduling every minute of tomorrow. Maybe that will help. I'll let you know tomorrow how well I kept it... ;)
I feel like lots of time tomorrow will be cleaning... my room is a disaster area! And writing, I want to write, I miss it!
Maybe tomorrow will also include going somewhere with a reliable wifi connection, instead of the spottiness I get in my room if I sit in a certain place holding my laptop just right. :P
Well, I think that's all for now. Maybe I'll be able to post this today... if the wireless let's me back on.
"Be a Fruit Loop in a world full of Cheerios"
Monday, November 15, 2010
Two Followers!! :)
Huzzah! There are two people officially "following" my blog now! :)
So here I am in Indiana, visiting my alma mater (it still feels weird calling Bethel that...) & all the people here. The occasion of the visit was the phenomenal show I saw last night. And it was truly amazing!
I love theatre, especially the kind done simply for the sake of improving one's own ability to create truly good art. And last night's production was amazing. The first act, a show called Second Chance, was directed by my friend Veronica (the first show performed as a part of the regular season having been directed by a student @ Bethel College!). It was a portrayal of two friends, ages 63 & 68, and their interactions of a particular evening. The actresses, mind you, were both 19. Every one did a grand job though, the acting was very believable, the director remained true to the story (I was very proud of her in that she tried to reign in her comedic tendencies & go instead for true-to-life), the design was simple, but effective. And the story left me thinking, and I will likely be chewing on the themes for some time to come! :)
The second act was Zoo Story, written by Edward Albee & directed by Derrick. Again, everything from the writing, the acting, the directing, to the designs and operating were done very well. I will be thinking about this one for a while as well. The whole story left me deep in thought & I was held in thrall for the whole show.
~~~~~~
'Kay, sorry all, I didn't actually get to publish that before I left Indiana... I was a bit busy. ;)
But to continue, I confess, the show was really fantastic, but it was only part of the reason for going to visit Indiana. The people were really the main attraction! And it was so very wonderful, getting to see friends again. It was... more refreshing than I know how to say.
It was rather interesting to examine a couple of things about my friendships while there... Different people interact so differently sometimes, especially when there's deep affection present. I would die for any one of the people I saw while up there, but no two people are the same--nor is the way I show love to them. I suppose that my new-found "obsession" with this subject has kind of heightened my awareness of its manifestations around me. It was kind of funny, noticing such things.
Love is a poke in the arm,
It's a mischievous grin shot in your general direction, letting you know that something has been done,
It's taking your phone.
Love is a hug between friends that makes the rest of the room fade away,
And it's the rest of the room laughing at how funny and cute that hug is.
Love is a grandpa quietly slipping an envelope of money into your hand and not taking no for an answer,
It's dinner every Sunday afternoon without fail,
And a special bowl of potatoes, set aside.
Love is dinner paid for by friends
Twice,
And an uneaten peanut-butter and jelly sandwich on the passenger seat.
Love is driving four hours to see a show,
and staying to see the director.
Love is talking over dinner,
And laughing over nothing, anything, and everything.
Love is a sympathetic arm around a shoulder,
A shoulder to cry to,
And a box of tissues, placed before it was known they'd be needed.
Love is a walk in the rain,
Not going anywhere,
But just glad for the person walking next to you.
Love is creeping in to bed at 4am
And finding a place to snuggle between two friends who are camping out on the floor with you.
Love is a dance,
And it's one with two index fingers pointed at the ceiling.
Love is scream,
And getting bowled over by a friend who's happy to see you.
Love is watching someone practice their first kiss,
And not laughing at them--but waiting to laugh with them,
And telling them about your own.
Love is a brother,
And when he hugs me I come up to his armpit.
Love is waving a hand in the face,
And punching in the arm.
Love is watching them walk away,
And smiling because I understand why they do,
And it's so very adorable.
Love is an apology
For an offense that had been forgotten already.
Love is a two-minute car ride,
Taken just to catch up on life in general,
And to be in each others company.
Love is chatting about nothing in particular,
But merely being glad to be in the same room while it's happening.
Love is a sympathetic ear,
A warm smile,
And a delighted laugh.
Love is going to church on less sleep than should have happened,
And staying awake the whole time.
Love is sitting on the back row,
Because of who else is sitting there,
And getting just a little distracted from the sermon.
Love is a look,
That says more than words could ever dream of expressing,
And speaks to a place far closer in the heart.
Love is beautiful.
So yeah, that was my trip. :)
So here I am in Indiana, visiting my alma mater (it still feels weird calling Bethel that...) & all the people here. The occasion of the visit was the phenomenal show I saw last night. And it was truly amazing!
I love theatre, especially the kind done simply for the sake of improving one's own ability to create truly good art. And last night's production was amazing. The first act, a show called Second Chance, was directed by my friend Veronica (the first show performed as a part of the regular season having been directed by a student @ Bethel College!). It was a portrayal of two friends, ages 63 & 68, and their interactions of a particular evening. The actresses, mind you, were both 19. Every one did a grand job though, the acting was very believable, the director remained true to the story (I was very proud of her in that she tried to reign in her comedic tendencies & go instead for true-to-life), the design was simple, but effective. And the story left me thinking, and I will likely be chewing on the themes for some time to come! :)
The second act was Zoo Story, written by Edward Albee & directed by Derrick. Again, everything from the writing, the acting, the directing, to the designs and operating were done very well. I will be thinking about this one for a while as well. The whole story left me deep in thought & I was held in thrall for the whole show.
~~~~~~
'Kay, sorry all, I didn't actually get to publish that before I left Indiana... I was a bit busy. ;)
But to continue, I confess, the show was really fantastic, but it was only part of the reason for going to visit Indiana. The people were really the main attraction! And it was so very wonderful, getting to see friends again. It was... more refreshing than I know how to say.
It was rather interesting to examine a couple of things about my friendships while there... Different people interact so differently sometimes, especially when there's deep affection present. I would die for any one of the people I saw while up there, but no two people are the same--nor is the way I show love to them. I suppose that my new-found "obsession" with this subject has kind of heightened my awareness of its manifestations around me. It was kind of funny, noticing such things.
Love is a poke in the arm,
It's a mischievous grin shot in your general direction, letting you know that something has been done,
It's taking your phone.
Love is a hug between friends that makes the rest of the room fade away,
And it's the rest of the room laughing at how funny and cute that hug is.
Love is a grandpa quietly slipping an envelope of money into your hand and not taking no for an answer,
It's dinner every Sunday afternoon without fail,
And a special bowl of potatoes, set aside.
Love is dinner paid for by friends
Twice,
And an uneaten peanut-butter and jelly sandwich on the passenger seat.
Love is driving four hours to see a show,
and staying to see the director.
Love is talking over dinner,
And laughing over nothing, anything, and everything.
Love is a sympathetic arm around a shoulder,
A shoulder to cry to,
And a box of tissues, placed before it was known they'd be needed.
Love is a walk in the rain,
Not going anywhere,
But just glad for the person walking next to you.
Love is creeping in to bed at 4am
And finding a place to snuggle between two friends who are camping out on the floor with you.
Love is a dance,
And it's one with two index fingers pointed at the ceiling.
Love is scream,
And getting bowled over by a friend who's happy to see you.
Love is watching someone practice their first kiss,
And not laughing at them--but waiting to laugh with them,
And telling them about your own.
Love is a brother,
And when he hugs me I come up to his armpit.
Love is waving a hand in the face,
And punching in the arm.
Love is watching them walk away,
And smiling because I understand why they do,
And it's so very adorable.
Love is an apology
For an offense that had been forgotten already.
Love is a two-minute car ride,
Taken just to catch up on life in general,
And to be in each others company.
Love is chatting about nothing in particular,
But merely being glad to be in the same room while it's happening.
Love is a sympathetic ear,
A warm smile,
And a delighted laugh.
Love is going to church on less sleep than should have happened,
And staying awake the whole time.
Love is sitting on the back row,
Because of who else is sitting there,
And getting just a little distracted from the sermon.
Love is a look,
That says more than words could ever dream of expressing,
And speaks to a place far closer in the heart.
Love is beautiful.
So yeah, that was my trip. :)
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Post Number 31! Woot!!
So, life is delightfully sunshiny today. :)
It might help that the weather is warm enough for me to be comfortable in a t-shirt...
And my car is fixed & back & drivable...
And I'm going to see a show this Saturday... hehehe... :)
You know you love theatre when you're willing to drive 4 hours to see a couple of one acts... ;)
Okay, so it might be a little more than the show that's pulling me. Maybe. Possibly.
Did you know that November has another name amongst the writing community? It's also called NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. The idea is that writers across the country (continent? world? idk) spend this one particular month dedicated to "pull[ing] that novel outta that sock drawer!" ("Title of Show" anyone?). The goal is to write 175 pages/50,000 words between November 1 & November 30. No editing allowed! Otherwise no writing happens, or not enough anyway.
The problem is that I remembered about it on the 8th... already a whole week behind!
And I still haven't started...
But hey, nothing ventured nothing gained! Let the noveling (that sounds slightly dirty... :\ sorry!) commence!
Also, something else might get in the way...
I sense a research paper brewing.
Do you realize the injustice of this? I thought my days of research papering were behind me!! I'm graduated, shouldn't I at least make it to a master's program before I start on that again?
Ah well, I'm actually getting the idea I'll enjoy this. I could just stop at researching the topic, and be content with just knowing the info... but where's the fun in that? I feel like I have to document the research I do... is that a symptom of having been in school for all my life? Does that impulse ever go away?
Oh right, the topic is New Atheism. Right now the book I've read is the one I spoke of earlier by Hitchins, but I'm still digging through that one & taking notes. There's a whole host of others I found on the subject... but still need to get my hands on.
As soon as I get any moneys, I'm off to B&N. Maybe I'll put them on my Christmas list... hehehe... I can see it now, asking my sisters for a copy of The God Delusion, that wouldn't raise any eyebrows... ;)
If I do write a paper, or a novel, or both, look forward to some excerpts being posted. In the meantime though, I ought to go home & file some of those loose papers... there's some info in there I need for a job application & I've been avoiding the task. Time to get off my bum & go do it.
Ta ta! :)
It might help that the weather is warm enough for me to be comfortable in a t-shirt...
And my car is fixed & back & drivable...
And I'm going to see a show this Saturday... hehehe... :)
You know you love theatre when you're willing to drive 4 hours to see a couple of one acts... ;)
Okay, so it might be a little more than the show that's pulling me. Maybe. Possibly.
Did you know that November has another name amongst the writing community? It's also called NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. The idea is that writers across the country (continent? world? idk) spend this one particular month dedicated to "pull[ing] that novel outta that sock drawer!" ("Title of Show" anyone?). The goal is to write 175 pages/50,000 words between November 1 & November 30. No editing allowed! Otherwise no writing happens, or not enough anyway.
The problem is that I remembered about it on the 8th... already a whole week behind!
And I still haven't started...
But hey, nothing ventured nothing gained! Let the noveling (that sounds slightly dirty... :\ sorry!) commence!
Also, something else might get in the way...
I sense a research paper brewing.
Do you realize the injustice of this? I thought my days of research papering were behind me!! I'm graduated, shouldn't I at least make it to a master's program before I start on that again?
Ah well, I'm actually getting the idea I'll enjoy this. I could just stop at researching the topic, and be content with just knowing the info... but where's the fun in that? I feel like I have to document the research I do... is that a symptom of having been in school for all my life? Does that impulse ever go away?
Oh right, the topic is New Atheism. Right now the book I've read is the one I spoke of earlier by Hitchins, but I'm still digging through that one & taking notes. There's a whole host of others I found on the subject... but still need to get my hands on.
As soon as I get any moneys, I'm off to B&N. Maybe I'll put them on my Christmas list... hehehe... I can see it now, asking my sisters for a copy of The God Delusion, that wouldn't raise any eyebrows... ;)
If I do write a paper, or a novel, or both, look forward to some excerpts being posted. In the meantime though, I ought to go home & file some of those loose papers... there's some info in there I need for a job application & I've been avoiding the task. Time to get off my bum & go do it.
Ta ta! :)
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Frog!
At least, so says one of my stray socks... I really ought to put that away... hm...
It's been an interesting weekend. I can't really quite say why it's been interesting, but it has. I find myself filling with a kind of quiet desperation. Life cannot continue on the course it's been taking--something will snap if it does, and I don't really want to wait around to find out what that something is going to be.
In other news: I found a wi-fi hotspot in my room! Huzzah! There's no real telling how long it will remain accessible, & I can only access it by sitting in a certain chair in a certain way in a certain spot in the room, but that's a lot easier than running to the library. Especially since the library isn't open at this hour. And since my car is still out of commission.
Yeah, it was the bearing on the left front wheel. Those of you reading this that pray, please pray for my car!
Also, the yard sale is over & done with, & nobody died! Huzzah! Yes, there was actually some doubt that would be the outcome at a couple of tense moments before the end drew nigh, but fear not! All are alive & sound! Well, mostly... ;)
I read White Fang and The Call of the Wild today, and noticed something for the first time. Did you know that Jack London was very much influenced in his writing by Nietzsche? I didn't either, until reading them this last time. I finally made the connection after reading something else by London in a philosophy class about "Nietzsche & the Novelist", and only today made the connection between that book & the Jack London that wrote White Fang... I'm a little slow sometimes, I admit it. But still, it's an intriguing thought...
I find myself at a slight loss for words at the moment, but I'm trying to write something--anything. My Mum, in one of her well-meaning lectures, told me that discipline (especially in writing) was something I am very lacking in. Since that was one of the original purposes in creating this blog, I figured I should apply myself more, yeah?
'Course, now I run into the problem at hand: What do I write about when all that fills my mind is a dull buzzing noise?
Apparently I write about not being able to write & other rambling stories. Well, why not. At least I'm writing something. Perhaps with practice I'll be able to come up with something more... interesting. In the meantime, "dear readers", I'm sorry for the drivel you have to endure. Props to you!
Maybe I'll start posting some of those writing exercises I've read... hmm...
But not tonight. Sweet dreams, all!
It's been an interesting weekend. I can't really quite say why it's been interesting, but it has. I find myself filling with a kind of quiet desperation. Life cannot continue on the course it's been taking--something will snap if it does, and I don't really want to wait around to find out what that something is going to be.
In other news: I found a wi-fi hotspot in my room! Huzzah! There's no real telling how long it will remain accessible, & I can only access it by sitting in a certain chair in a certain way in a certain spot in the room, but that's a lot easier than running to the library. Especially since the library isn't open at this hour. And since my car is still out of commission.
Yeah, it was the bearing on the left front wheel. Those of you reading this that pray, please pray for my car!
Also, the yard sale is over & done with, & nobody died! Huzzah! Yes, there was actually some doubt that would be the outcome at a couple of tense moments before the end drew nigh, but fear not! All are alive & sound! Well, mostly... ;)
I read White Fang and The Call of the Wild today, and noticed something for the first time. Did you know that Jack London was very much influenced in his writing by Nietzsche? I didn't either, until reading them this last time. I finally made the connection after reading something else by London in a philosophy class about "Nietzsche & the Novelist", and only today made the connection between that book & the Jack London that wrote White Fang... I'm a little slow sometimes, I admit it. But still, it's an intriguing thought...
I find myself at a slight loss for words at the moment, but I'm trying to write something--anything. My Mum, in one of her well-meaning lectures, told me that discipline (especially in writing) was something I am very lacking in. Since that was one of the original purposes in creating this blog, I figured I should apply myself more, yeah?
'Course, now I run into the problem at hand: What do I write about when all that fills my mind is a dull buzzing noise?
Apparently I write about not being able to write & other rambling stories. Well, why not. At least I'm writing something. Perhaps with practice I'll be able to come up with something more... interesting. In the meantime, "dear readers", I'm sorry for the drivel you have to endure. Props to you!
Maybe I'll start posting some of those writing exercises I've read... hmm...
But not tonight. Sweet dreams, all!
Friday, November 5, 2010
Sad Day :(
Alas! My poor Liffey Fairfarren (my car) had to be taken to the car doctors this morning. Note: she had to be taken, as in not driven, but towed. Her left front tire started screaming at me, so Dad & I took her in today & anxiously await the diagnosis & treatment on Monday.
Okay, so I'm a little attached to my vehicle, deal with it.
Then there's the yard-sale... oh boy. I love my family, I really really do. Honest! But sometimes... ah well.
It's turning into one of those weekends. Sometimes I wish...
Half finished sentences, half whispered dreams,
Barely daring to finish the thought.
Some tiny part of me sometimes seems
Terrified of not being caught.
A song has been running through my head lately that seems rather apt for the feeling at hand, & I'd like to share some lyrics:
"If you're going through hell,
Keep on going, don't slow down
If you're scared don't show it.
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there.
If you're going through hell
Keep on moving, face that fire
Walk right through it
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there."
~Rodney Atkins, "If You're Going Through Hell"
So yeah. That's where today is for now. Hasta.
Okay, so I'm a little attached to my vehicle, deal with it.
Then there's the yard-sale... oh boy. I love my family, I really really do. Honest! But sometimes... ah well.
It's turning into one of those weekends. Sometimes I wish...
Half finished sentences, half whispered dreams,
Barely daring to finish the thought.
Some tiny part of me sometimes seems
Terrified of not being caught.
A song has been running through my head lately that seems rather apt for the feeling at hand, & I'd like to share some lyrics:
"If you're going through hell,
Keep on going, don't slow down
If you're scared don't show it.
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there.
If you're going through hell
Keep on moving, face that fire
Walk right through it
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there."
~Rodney Atkins, "If You're Going Through Hell"
So yeah. That's where today is for now. Hasta.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Slightly serious... ish... maybe... ?
Oops, sorry all, that one got away from me too early & shall have to be attempted again later. Sorry about the fake-out!
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Who feels like rambling?
I do! I do! :)
Do I really have anything to say? Well, no I suppose I don't. But then again, that's never really stopped me before, has it now? :P
D'you ever have one of those days when you feel tense, just waiting for something to happen? Like you know something is going to happen, you're just not terribly sure what it is, or when it's going to happen, but there's an air of waiting all around you?
Today's not one of those days.
It's just another day. I know, no day is ordinary, it's only the way you live within it that is ordinary or not. But today really feels like it's a dampener on anything extraordinary happening in my life.
And it's election day, go figure. Shows how much I care about politics, hm?
Maybe I should go wreak havoc in protest.
I rediscovered a series I used to read when I was little, I think they gave me the inspiration for what I want to be like when I get older. "Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle" is the name of the series, written by Betty MacDonald. They were written in the 1950s, but are still surprisingly relevant. I would recommend them to anyone, and highly!
Hm, I think I'll tell a bit more about Tom now, if you're not interested you can stop reading here.
Let's see, I told you all about Tom, but I didn't say where he lived. He lived with his grandfather in the middle of a large city. Well, not right in the middle, but definitely not on the outskirts. They lived in a flat in one of the not-so-run-down parts of the city, and there was a theatre just down the street. In this place Tom grew to be very clever, but also very quiet. He learned to keep his mouth shut & his ears open, and in this manner learned far more about life and people than any boy of his age is ever expected to know. I suspect that his grandfather knew precisely how much Tom had learned, but the old man never called attention to it.
Well, now my battery really is dying, so I'll bid adieu for now.
Do I really have anything to say? Well, no I suppose I don't. But then again, that's never really stopped me before, has it now? :P
D'you ever have one of those days when you feel tense, just waiting for something to happen? Like you know something is going to happen, you're just not terribly sure what it is, or when it's going to happen, but there's an air of waiting all around you?
Today's not one of those days.
It's just another day. I know, no day is ordinary, it's only the way you live within it that is ordinary or not. But today really feels like it's a dampener on anything extraordinary happening in my life.
And it's election day, go figure. Shows how much I care about politics, hm?
Maybe I should go wreak havoc in protest.
I rediscovered a series I used to read when I was little, I think they gave me the inspiration for what I want to be like when I get older. "Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle" is the name of the series, written by Betty MacDonald. They were written in the 1950s, but are still surprisingly relevant. I would recommend them to anyone, and highly!
Hm, I think I'll tell a bit more about Tom now, if you're not interested you can stop reading here.
Let's see, I told you all about Tom, but I didn't say where he lived. He lived with his grandfather in the middle of a large city. Well, not right in the middle, but definitely not on the outskirts. They lived in a flat in one of the not-so-run-down parts of the city, and there was a theatre just down the street. In this place Tom grew to be very clever, but also very quiet. He learned to keep his mouth shut & his ears open, and in this manner learned far more about life and people than any boy of his age is ever expected to know. I suspect that his grandfather knew precisely how much Tom had learned, but the old man never called attention to it.
Well, now my battery really is dying, so I'll bid adieu for now.
Monday, November 1, 2010
"That Might be the Death of Me"
So I've been reading a book lately that has had my mind in a turmoil: "god is not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything" by Christopher Hitchins.
DISCLAIMER: I'm on chapter 10 of 19, & this is only the first read, anything I write at this point is first-blush impression only. :)
Hitchins raises many fascinating and valid points, and has challenged me to delve further into the research that has been laying all too dormant of late. However, I find his style of writing to be... rather irritating.
First, let me confess. Part of my irritation may be due to the comment on one of my favorite authors of all time & someone I consider a mentor to my writing, C. S. Lewis. Pg. 7 states "some religious apology... is dreary and absurd--here one cannot avoid naming C. S. Lewis." So, I may be biased. I shall try to remember this & give the benefit of the doubt. No one likes having their heroes called absurd, even in less blatant terms than that. But I'll get over it. ;)
All the same, it was rather disconcerting to realize while I was reading today that part of my discomfort was due to the not-so-subtle message Hitchins has been sending that anyone who still believes in God is ignorant & unintelligent. Not that Christian's haven't been just as guilty of this transgression as Hitchins, but I don't really respect them either. If a writer of philosophy wants my respect, persuade me without insulting me. Apparently Hitchins doesn't consider this method worthwhile, which is regrettable. I would find his arguments far easier to focus on if I wasn't constantly made aware of the fact that he considers myself to be a backwards non-intellect.
But, before I write more on this, more reading is necessary. I dislike making hasty judgments, so I'll stop here.
In other news: my dog looks like she's been gnawed on by rats--at least, as far as her coat of fur goes. My folks took the scissors to her on Saturday & cut off all her mattes--which left very little. While I was at school no one seemed to think of brushing the poor thing, & there was no point to me doing so once I got back--the damage was already done. But now we're starting again!
Poor dog. :)
Also, who's looking forward to no more political ads!! Me! :) Happy election, all!
DISCLAIMER: I'm on chapter 10 of 19, & this is only the first read, anything I write at this point is first-blush impression only. :)
Hitchins raises many fascinating and valid points, and has challenged me to delve further into the research that has been laying all too dormant of late. However, I find his style of writing to be... rather irritating.
First, let me confess. Part of my irritation may be due to the comment on one of my favorite authors of all time & someone I consider a mentor to my writing, C. S. Lewis. Pg. 7 states "some religious apology... is dreary and absurd--here one cannot avoid naming C. S. Lewis." So, I may be biased. I shall try to remember this & give the benefit of the doubt. No one likes having their heroes called absurd, even in less blatant terms than that. But I'll get over it. ;)
All the same, it was rather disconcerting to realize while I was reading today that part of my discomfort was due to the not-so-subtle message Hitchins has been sending that anyone who still believes in God is ignorant & unintelligent. Not that Christian's haven't been just as guilty of this transgression as Hitchins, but I don't really respect them either. If a writer of philosophy wants my respect, persuade me without insulting me. Apparently Hitchins doesn't consider this method worthwhile, which is regrettable. I would find his arguments far easier to focus on if I wasn't constantly made aware of the fact that he considers myself to be a backwards non-intellect.
But, before I write more on this, more reading is necessary. I dislike making hasty judgments, so I'll stop here.
In other news: my dog looks like she's been gnawed on by rats--at least, as far as her coat of fur goes. My folks took the scissors to her on Saturday & cut off all her mattes--which left very little. While I was at school no one seemed to think of brushing the poor thing, & there was no point to me doing so once I got back--the damage was already done. But now we're starting again!
Poor dog. :)
Also, who's looking forward to no more political ads!! Me! :) Happy election, all!
Friday, October 29, 2010
That shiny bright stuff that flashes in a thunderstorm...
Yep, I totally forgot how to spell it, so I went for the alternative instead. What's your point? Hmm?
I feel like I've been harping on love lately, but it's kind of been intriguing me, so I'll continue to write on what intrigues me. Besides, harps sound lovely, right?
But then comes the strange position I find myself in, what's left to write? Not to say that I've already written everything I have to say about it, but rather that so much has been written about it already, what's left to say?
Next time I'm in a poetic muse I shall attempt a poem around the line "love does not force, and force does not yield." It was already in one of my others, but I'd like to expand on the idea.
Love hopes, it dreams, it supports and holds,
Love whispers and shouts, it makes cowards bold.
Love is strangely demure, it pursues without taking,
Strangely strong, the heart never stops breaking.
Bah, I'd better stop forcing it, before disaster happens.... Still, it's something to keep in mind.
But still, what a crazy phenomenon this love is.
I had someone tell me lately that humans invented God to give a name to that third voice in the head, the "conscience", that the voice being named "God" was just another one in the head.
I've been turning this idea over in my head ever since, chewing on it, if you will. It sounds like a very plausible theory, but being a Christ follower makes one or two things more difficult to reconcile with this than I can... wow, no idea where that sentence was heading, sorry folks. Let's just say that I can't reconcile that idea with what actually happens in my head.
Elaboration! :)
For one, there are a lot more than three voices in my head. Maybe it's because I'm a writer & an actor, but I listen to a lot of characters in there, and I've never bothered to count how many there are, but there's a lot more than three. However, having heard that still small Voice a few times, I can say with assurance that there is something Different about that Voice.
Having spent a number of years trying to listen to God, and trying to shape myself to His will, I've learned a couple of things about distinguishing His Voice from the cacophony of others in my head. One of the more telling signs that it really is God talking & not just myself is that He's a lot more persistent. It sounds trivial, I know, but you others who try to hear Him may know, it can be hard to tell when He's the one talking sometimes! But unlike all the other voices, He doesn't go away if He wants me to do or say something. There were a couple of occasions where the Voice just wouldn't go away, so I found myself going & doing what It told me to just because He wouldn't shut up about it!
Another difference is the things this Voice says. All the other voices, be they characters or manifestations of my own will, are generally consistent with what I know myself to be like in personality & knowledge. But this Voice will urge me to do something I see no reason to do, or It may tell me to say things I would usually never say. If I do & say these things the results are usually amazing, though sometimes I don't get to see the result. If I don't, the mundane is generally left uninterrupted. But the thing here that triggers obedience to this particular Voice is when it tells me to do something so utterly out of my comfort zone, or so out of the ordinary. I would never come up with these ideas! Sometimes no one I know would. But there they are, spoken of by that Voice.
Sometimes it's annoying, I admit. Like when I'm faced with huge arguments against my God--something I've been training & preparing for the majority of my life. But instead of reminding me of the arguments I know I've learned, this Voice wipes them all from my mind, and instead tells me "This isn't the time for that, just listen. No no, you heard me, just be quiet & listen." Then I get all confused and the Voice just smiles at me and says "you mean you don't trust Me by now? Come on, I'll tell you why, but this important, you need to hear this."
So yeah, I'm not positing this as any kind of elegant defense for Christianity, please don't confuse this for that. This is just what's been going through my head for a while, & consequently spilled out into type.
Do with it what you will.
I feel like I've been harping on love lately, but it's kind of been intriguing me, so I'll continue to write on what intrigues me. Besides, harps sound lovely, right?
But then comes the strange position I find myself in, what's left to write? Not to say that I've already written everything I have to say about it, but rather that so much has been written about it already, what's left to say?
Next time I'm in a poetic muse I shall attempt a poem around the line "love does not force, and force does not yield." It was already in one of my others, but I'd like to expand on the idea.
Love hopes, it dreams, it supports and holds,
Love whispers and shouts, it makes cowards bold.
Love is strangely demure, it pursues without taking,
Strangely strong, the heart never stops breaking.
Bah, I'd better stop forcing it, before disaster happens.... Still, it's something to keep in mind.
But still, what a crazy phenomenon this love is.
I had someone tell me lately that humans invented God to give a name to that third voice in the head, the "conscience", that the voice being named "God" was just another one in the head.
I've been turning this idea over in my head ever since, chewing on it, if you will. It sounds like a very plausible theory, but being a Christ follower makes one or two things more difficult to reconcile with this than I can... wow, no idea where that sentence was heading, sorry folks. Let's just say that I can't reconcile that idea with what actually happens in my head.
Elaboration! :)
For one, there are a lot more than three voices in my head. Maybe it's because I'm a writer & an actor, but I listen to a lot of characters in there, and I've never bothered to count how many there are, but there's a lot more than three. However, having heard that still small Voice a few times, I can say with assurance that there is something Different about that Voice.
Having spent a number of years trying to listen to God, and trying to shape myself to His will, I've learned a couple of things about distinguishing His Voice from the cacophony of others in my head. One of the more telling signs that it really is God talking & not just myself is that He's a lot more persistent. It sounds trivial, I know, but you others who try to hear Him may know, it can be hard to tell when He's the one talking sometimes! But unlike all the other voices, He doesn't go away if He wants me to do or say something. There were a couple of occasions where the Voice just wouldn't go away, so I found myself going & doing what It told me to just because He wouldn't shut up about it!
Another difference is the things this Voice says. All the other voices, be they characters or manifestations of my own will, are generally consistent with what I know myself to be like in personality & knowledge. But this Voice will urge me to do something I see no reason to do, or It may tell me to say things I would usually never say. If I do & say these things the results are usually amazing, though sometimes I don't get to see the result. If I don't, the mundane is generally left uninterrupted. But the thing here that triggers obedience to this particular Voice is when it tells me to do something so utterly out of my comfort zone, or so out of the ordinary. I would never come up with these ideas! Sometimes no one I know would. But there they are, spoken of by that Voice.
Sometimes it's annoying, I admit. Like when I'm faced with huge arguments against my God--something I've been training & preparing for the majority of my life. But instead of reminding me of the arguments I know I've learned, this Voice wipes them all from my mind, and instead tells me "This isn't the time for that, just listen. No no, you heard me, just be quiet & listen." Then I get all confused and the Voice just smiles at me and says "you mean you don't trust Me by now? Come on, I'll tell you why, but this important, you need to hear this."
So yeah, I'm not positing this as any kind of elegant defense for Christianity, please don't confuse this for that. This is just what's been going through my head for a while, & consequently spilled out into type.
Do with it what you will.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
One of those Days...
Yep, here I am again, typing away about nonsense... seriously living up to the title I picked for this blog... I'm never sure if that's a good thing or not, but I'm going to act like it is until someone proves differently... ;)
What do I usually write about here? I'll have to go back & check, because I'm having trouble remembering... I want to write, but I don't know what to write about. Heck, I can't even remember what I usually write about! Maybe it's time for that idea I had a while ago, yes, I think I'll try that...
Once upon a time, long long ago, in a place that is far, far away
There lived a small boy. Now when I say he was a small boy I do not mean that he was overly tiny, though he was rather short for his age--which was about 10. The boy was pale-skinned under his multitude of freckles, and had hair that was strawberry-blond. His nose was a little bit of a thing, and slightly turned up at the end. His mouth was very somber and not at all prone to smiling--though when he did the result was delightful.
His eyes, you ask? What about his eyes? Well now, they were a tad peculiar. They weren't really green, though they seemed so at times. They were not really blue, but they looked like it when the boy was happy. Nor were they completely grey, brown, purple, or any other really definable color. Grey would probably be the closest that describes their colour, but ... well, it simply doesn't fit. The boy's eyes were every color, and no color at all.
What is his name? What, haven't I told you yet? Oh goodness, how ridiculous of me! The boy's name was Tom. At least, that's what we will call him for the sake of sanity. You see, his full name was Thomason Patrick Julius Gerard Brodine Carlton. But we'll just call him Tom, if you don't mind.
Well, now that you know Tom, allow me to continue...
Next time, that is, because it's now time for me to go. :) Bye!
What do I usually write about here? I'll have to go back & check, because I'm having trouble remembering... I want to write, but I don't know what to write about. Heck, I can't even remember what I usually write about! Maybe it's time for that idea I had a while ago, yes, I think I'll try that...
Once upon a time, long long ago, in a place that is far, far away
There lived a small boy. Now when I say he was a small boy I do not mean that he was overly tiny, though he was rather short for his age--which was about 10. The boy was pale-skinned under his multitude of freckles, and had hair that was strawberry-blond. His nose was a little bit of a thing, and slightly turned up at the end. His mouth was very somber and not at all prone to smiling--though when he did the result was delightful.
His eyes, you ask? What about his eyes? Well now, they were a tad peculiar. They weren't really green, though they seemed so at times. They were not really blue, but they looked like it when the boy was happy. Nor were they completely grey, brown, purple, or any other really definable color. Grey would probably be the closest that describes their colour, but ... well, it simply doesn't fit. The boy's eyes were every color, and no color at all.
What is his name? What, haven't I told you yet? Oh goodness, how ridiculous of me! The boy's name was Tom. At least, that's what we will call him for the sake of sanity. You see, his full name was Thomason Patrick Julius Gerard Brodine Carlton. But we'll just call him Tom, if you don't mind.
Well, now that you know Tom, allow me to continue...
Next time, that is, because it's now time for me to go. :) Bye!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Good 'N Cold
That's what my Dr. Pepper is telling me right now... Not sure I want to follow its example...
So I read "Howl's Moving Castle" yesterday--it's by Diana Wynne Jones (absolutely amazing middle name, by the way, who came up with that one? Props to them!), and it was a really fun read! A friend of mine introduced it to me by way of showing the movie, and while the two are rather dissimilar neither is really ruined by the other, so that's all well & good. The friend said that I reminded him of Sophie, the protaganist in the story, & I understand why now. I think we would get along very well--though I doubt anyone else would be happy about it... :D But I wanted to comment briefly on something I think was really remarkable about this story: it is mostly about an old woman. Most sci-fi is about people in the prime of their life, or immortal people frozen in the prime of their life. In this story Sophie is bespelled by a witch to become a 90ish woman, and she remains that way for the majority of the story. It gave the whole thing a refreshing flavour, something new, and I rather enjoyed it. I think I'll try some more of Diana Wynne Jones... Especially since I have a library card again... :)
I hate it when this happens... I think of so many things that I want to write about, but I get here to my blog & sit down to actually write something & one of two things happens. 1. I completely forget everything I was excited about writing until it's time to leave or 2. I realize that if I actually put that into writing there are certain people that may read it that will most certainly not take it the way it's intended & it will come back to bite me hard. :P Today it's the former. Bah.
So I guess I'll write about something else. I've got a few minutes, so I can afford to just ramble for a bit until something comes to mind.
Oh wait! I remember!!
Yesterday I was told, again, that I think too much. I find this extremely ironic, mainly because the person who told me this yesterday & the other person who has told me this most often in life are two people who probably hate each other's guts & would despise the thought of agreeing about anything. Yet here they are, both telling me I think too much.
Well, maybe I do. But I would far rather be accused of that than be guilty of not thinking enough. In my estimation, over-analysis is a far lesser sin than that of thoughtlessness.
I heard a chapel speaker say once something to the effect of "if that comment went over your head, then perhaps it's not the comment's height you should worry about so much as the stature of your head." I laugh because it's true....
Sorry if this sounds bitter. It's one of those phrases that I've heard a lot in life, mostly yanking me back to earth when I go flying off into wonder at how a seemingly lifeless seed is transformed into a huge tree, or how the dance of the stars is mirrored by the swirling of an atom. I try to share my wonder & get in return "you think too much". I know yesterday's comment wasn't meant that way, but it brought back some... interesting... memories.
So yeah, think too much, do I? If only I knew how to type a raspberry... FIE upon thee!! :P
That's all for now. I'm off to think some more.
So I read "Howl's Moving Castle" yesterday--it's by Diana Wynne Jones (absolutely amazing middle name, by the way, who came up with that one? Props to them!), and it was a really fun read! A friend of mine introduced it to me by way of showing the movie, and while the two are rather dissimilar neither is really ruined by the other, so that's all well & good. The friend said that I reminded him of Sophie, the protaganist in the story, & I understand why now. I think we would get along very well--though I doubt anyone else would be happy about it... :D But I wanted to comment briefly on something I think was really remarkable about this story: it is mostly about an old woman. Most sci-fi is about people in the prime of their life, or immortal people frozen in the prime of their life. In this story Sophie is bespelled by a witch to become a 90ish woman, and she remains that way for the majority of the story. It gave the whole thing a refreshing flavour, something new, and I rather enjoyed it. I think I'll try some more of Diana Wynne Jones... Especially since I have a library card again... :)
I hate it when this happens... I think of so many things that I want to write about, but I get here to my blog & sit down to actually write something & one of two things happens. 1. I completely forget everything I was excited about writing until it's time to leave or 2. I realize that if I actually put that into writing there are certain people that may read it that will most certainly not take it the way it's intended & it will come back to bite me hard. :P Today it's the former. Bah.
So I guess I'll write about something else. I've got a few minutes, so I can afford to just ramble for a bit until something comes to mind.
Oh wait! I remember!!
Yesterday I was told, again, that I think too much. I find this extremely ironic, mainly because the person who told me this yesterday & the other person who has told me this most often in life are two people who probably hate each other's guts & would despise the thought of agreeing about anything. Yet here they are, both telling me I think too much.
Well, maybe I do. But I would far rather be accused of that than be guilty of not thinking enough. In my estimation, over-analysis is a far lesser sin than that of thoughtlessness.
I heard a chapel speaker say once something to the effect of "if that comment went over your head, then perhaps it's not the comment's height you should worry about so much as the stature of your head." I laugh because it's true....
Sorry if this sounds bitter. It's one of those phrases that I've heard a lot in life, mostly yanking me back to earth when I go flying off into wonder at how a seemingly lifeless seed is transformed into a huge tree, or how the dance of the stars is mirrored by the swirling of an atom. I try to share my wonder & get in return "you think too much". I know yesterday's comment wasn't meant that way, but it brought back some... interesting... memories.
So yeah, think too much, do I? If only I knew how to type a raspberry... FIE upon thee!! :P
That's all for now. I'm off to think some more.
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