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Like a Really Fast Car

        So our in-class focus these last few weeks is on avoiding common writing errors like cliches. The problem is that cliches are so easy to use. For example, I was attempting to write a post about how fast life has been going by for me, and all I could think of were cliches like "in a flash" and "before you know it", etc. So I settled on "Like a Really Fast Car." I actually have some good details for it, though: where everything close to you is in focus and not really moving, but outside the car things are blurring by. That's how it's been for me lately. Time with Aubri and friends literally seems to crawl by (is she really getting bigger?!), but my pregnant friends went from size 0 to Maternity size 0 to too-big-for-Maternity in what seemed like a matter of seconds. I can't help but be amazed, because I remember how long my pregnancy took! It was one of those, "Are we there yet?" experiences.

     And there you have it: I am experiencing life like I'm in a really fast car. 

A Little "Me" Time

Question: Why do we always have to capitalize the important words in titles? I mean, wouldn't it be just as effective if we left the "A", "L", "M", and "T" lowercase? I tried it out when I wrote the title, but I had to go back and fix it because it just didn't look right.

Question: Why do cats bring gifts consisting of still-moving bugs. Seriously? And Lux acts all offended when I throw it out. Seriously. He stalks out of the room.

Question: Why do headaches always arrive when you're trying to relax? That's just inopportune. 

Question: Why is it hard to fall asleep in the middle of the night? I have never had any difficulty sleeping-- I never needed any sleep props like Johnathan does. I had no trouble turning off the thought machine and zoozing (yes, I made up that word-- it felt apt.) But now that I have to wake up to feed Aubri, I have the most difficult time falling back asleep. And then it's time to get up again!

 

Question: Grading papers is overrated. Okay, that's not a question, that's a statement. That's what we English teachers refer to as a declarative sentence. Question: why do we feel the need to label things like declarative sentences? When do we ever use these labels in real life? I was thinking this as I tried my damnedest to explain the difference between a linking verb and an active verb to my class. The definition in the book was no help. It said, "Linking verbs link the subject to the rest of the sentence." Seriously? You mean, linking verbs link stuff? 

A Little Beauty

I've always had a thing for stone amphitheaters. Not only do they evoke a sense of ancient-ness for me, they hold connotations of literature, art, community, and peace. My direct experiences with stone amphitheaters are limited-- playing on one as a kid, taking a group picture on one at a retreat, and listening to an orchestra on one when I was a little older. Still, I can't help but think of Greek tragedies and blankets and starry nights and friends and fireworks. These are the things I long for, and this picture captures them for a moment. To look at it, you wouldn't even think about how humid it is, or how many bugs are waiting to feast on your flesh. It just looks . . . nice. 

They Don't Make Mylar Balloons Like They Used To . . .

Above is the birthday balloon Johnathan bought me on November 4. 63 days later, it still has enough helium in it to float along the ceiling.

Despite this.

And this! Is it my imagination, or did Mylar's never last so long?

Weekend Part II

I've been meaning to post a part two for more than a week. I don't actually have the pictures figured out so I just gave an entirely new post the same title. This is in reference to next weekend, though, when my sister is meeting me in Maryland and we are going to my cousin's wedding in Connecticut. I am excited to travel through New England in the fall and will try to take plenty of pictures. I have been facing a lack of writing inspiration which rather bums me out. I like getting stuff out on this blog-- it is always cathartic. I think part of this writer's block has to do with a general lack of enumeration on my part. Life is the same: work, volleyball, home, homework, class, etc. Unfortunately, I have also been losing passion for Jesus fairly quickly as other things fill me up. What is odd is that I know I am dying inside and losing connection with everyone around me, but that doesn't spur me on all the time. Hmmm.

I did also ask my dad to come here for Thanksgiving. I am pretty sure he won't come, since he does not like to fly or go anywhere or do anything outside of his routine. My little sister, Katie, is coming however. She is taking the train from Atlanta, I think, although there is some concern how she will get from Rome to the train station. I am sure she'll get it figured out. From what I can tell, she likes her school but is frustrated with volleyball in general (of course, who isn't?)

Maybe I will return to blog some more soon!

Buying a Desk

We are converting our office into a fourth bedroom due to the fact that our house is a hostel. (No, seriously.) This means that we need to buy a new desk, since the one we have I've never really liked, er, I mean, since the one we have is too big to fit next to a bed. So one day we spent about an hour and a half in Office Max talking over the desk options. Of course, all of the really good desks require additional $200 pieces in order to complete the space (and since we're getting a smaller desk, we kind of need the additional pieces.) We finally decided not to buy anything that day. Today, we were back at Office Max. The desk we wanted was not in stock. (Too bad Johnathan dumped our old desk in a University dumpster already! And all of the stuff that was in the desk is now on the bed, so we really cannot delay!)

We decided to spend a lot of money on the desk we did select. And then we were going to get an additional piece which was also a lot of money. Fortunately for us, that piece was not in stock. Hurrah! We're getting a new desk!

And Now, Free Association with Rachel . . .

Husband and I have finished painting our living room and kitchen. We got rid a few items of furniture-- a couch and a chair, and bought a new, really big chair that can fit two people. This now bring the total pieces of furniture that we have paid for to three-- a couch, a mattress, and this new item!

I think we are also getting another roommate. So then our house will be full again-- all three bedrooms taken. Ooooh, and I've been having strange dreams lately-- the most disturbing was of a scorpion being on my bed (we're in Virginia-- who thinks of scorpions?!) and a gargantuan black widow on the inside lip of the bedskirt. [Shiver.] Since then the subject of spiders and even scorpions has come up at least three times in my house.

My cat was getting a little nuts when we were painting. Who knew that cats were so sensitive? But when we began moving things around, he started creeping and darting and is still jumping at loud noises.

I've been talking to my sister a lot, too, who is having a bit of a time adjusting to her new surroundings. At least Rome, GA, has a Starbucks, though. She can't really ask for more.

Something Remembered

This picture is of the church I grew up in-- pre-Virginia, pre-Sandals, and pre-Hope CRC. It was the church my dad was raised in, it had its part in founding Ontario Christian Schools where both my parents attended high school, and we left in 1996 when they seceded from the Christian Reformed Denomination.

       Looking back, I can't imagine what spurred my parents to do this, since this was the only church my dad had ever attended. We shopped around churches for awhile-- I specifically remember the CRC in Norco because the pastor told a story about french fries. We finally landed at  Hope Community in Riverside, where my aunt and uncle had attended before they moved to Montana. My dad's Sunday attendance quickly dropped to twice a month, then once a month, and then major holidays. It's really hard for my dad to make new friends, and he thought the music was ridiculous, and they didn't have a pastor, yet.

      But I was remembering this morning how involved my dad really was at our old church. Pastor Rand even nominated him to be on the hospitality committee! Picture the farmer with the pitchfork in that old painting of the farmer and his wife-- and that's my dad. He's gruff, he's stoic, he's quiet, and he's rough. But what better person to head the hospitality committee than someone who hates new places? I can still see my dad ranting about how Pastor Rand did it on purpose. But that was the best two years at church I can remember-- we had ice cream socials (all the ice cream a kid could want!) and we had picnics in the park. And now I realize how incredibly sad it is that we let debates about theology ruin that. . .

      

"Mama Day" and Reality

My roommate Danielle is Haitian, although she grew up in America and only lived in Haiti briefly. Nevertheless, she heard enough stories and experienced enough of the effects of voodoo that I think she can get angry about our (American Christians') lack of sensitivity to spiritual warfare.

We were discussing the spiritual gifts the other day-- particularly those which many Baptists believe have "passed away." I don't know how we got there, but we started discussing her background. I remembered how a year ago I was finishing up Gloria Naylor's novel Mama Day and telling her about the book. She shivered at some of the parts I described and explained, "I can read or watch pretty much anything-- Harry Potter, Rush Hour, etc.,-- but books like this, where it's real, truly bother me. I don't know if that book is something I can read." [The novel is a strange love story with parts that focus on the hereditary "voodoo" powers of Mama Day and her rival, Ruby]

So I asked her about it. She started by explaining that Haitians dedicated the country to Satan when they received their freedom (in a gruesome way, as she tells it). In Haiti, "Catholicism" might be synonymous with "voodoo", and one of their last national leaders was on a hunt for 2000 human hearts in order to rededicate the country to Satan. According to Danielle, people were disappearing left and right until he was kicked out of office.

Even though I feel more and more horrified every time I think about it, now I know what to pray for. I hope, if you care, this helps! It's not just poverty and strife that afflict this country-- it's spiritual warfare!

On Friends and Meaning

I think that with the advent of Myspace and Facebook the meaning of the word "friend" will be forever different. I was talking with my former roommate Tyler, and asked if what we were listening to (we were in the car) was Todd Agnew. "Yep. Hey, he's my friend, you know."

"Really, how'd you meet him?"

"Oh, I didn't meet him. He's my friend on MySpace."

Huh. Weird.

So my co-worker Faith has a picture of Michael Tait in her cubicle, and yesterday I asked her about him.
"Yeah, we're friends."

I smiled-- this type of thing I understood, now!-- "On Facebook or MySpace?"

"Oh, um. Both, I guess. But I meant that we were actually friends. Like we know each other."

Huh.

Oh, and while we're on the subject of the changeable nature of the English language, has anyone noticed the new verbs out there that are related to these networks? Two days ago, a girl I knew facebooked me to see if I was going to Jerry' funeral, and Johnathan was myspaced by his friend Sean to remind him about their lunch meeting.

This is why I love English. And frankly, I don't know how dictionaries keep up.