Check me out.. right down the middle...

Your Political Profile:

Overall: 55% Conservative, 45% Liberal

Social Issues: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal

Personal Responsibility: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal

Fiscal Issues: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal

Ethics: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal

Defense and Crime: 75% Conservative, 25% Liberal

How Liberal Or Conservative Are You?

Hooray for Summer.

Watering little green plants in the yard.
Steamy black driveway basketball.
Strawberries and front porch sittin'.
Driving the boat with Uncle Bob, and canteloupe.
My dad's electric blue luau swim trunks that he swears are "just shorts".

Been awhile since I blogged, I've been slacking a little bit as of late. There are some reasons for that.

I have been really busy at work. Working way too many hours and trying to get some stuff done there, and it's sucked the life out of me. I gotta knock it off.

I met a boy. More on that later. This one has potential of being a keeper, but if nothing else, has restored my faith in men. So he is getting some Murl time. Prayers, good.

A bible study is starting at the house. About 20 thirsty girls are getting together to do some BETH MOORE. (OH MAN is that EXCITING!!! You have no idea.. really.) We are doing "Breaking Free" and I am so pumped. I am craving scripture lately and I'm craving some community like this, all girls, all of us really ready for something, for God to do some amazing things in our lives, all of us ready to be free from something. I really can't describe how excited I am to be apart of this. The thought of being a part of a group of gals who are thrilled about having the blocks removed that keep them from experiencing the weight of the love and mercy and peace of God. Shivers. I need this. My spiritual mouth is watering.

I got bit in the face by a dog this weekend. So if you see me, and I look like a prize fighter, that's why.

Hallelujah

"The baffled King composes..."

This song is in my head. It stuck into my head the very first time I heard it as the background music on a West Wing funeral. I hadn't realized what an amazing song it really was until it showed up again on janely's Christmas mix. (Everyone needs Christmas in May).

I have it on constant repeat and I can't get the achingly beautiful haunting voice of Jeff Buckley out of my head.... So to the internet I go.. looking for info on this song and to my dismay, I'm no musical scout, it's been covered 44 times to be exact and it was written in '84.

But it's still a good song...

It's amazing really, the blend of sorrow and joy. They are truly inseparable.

Sunday, as I listened to Susan recount the grief and beauty of her life, and her husbands death, and raising her two boys alone, I started to understand the cold and broken Hallelujah.

I understand, maybe am only beginning to understand, the beauty and the true goodness of the holes in our lives. The God shaped holes.

Paul wasn't an ass when he said "Rejoice" in suffering. He wasn't an ass, because he WAS in prison and rejoicing... and because he KNEW what was ahead. He did know why the thorns weren't removed. He did know why he was allowed to hurt. Because it was only for a time. Because he had seen the prize that was waiting, and everything else was dimmer by comparison. Because his hurt was purposeful, because it was for the sake of spreading the news of an epic love gone wrong, with the possibility of becoming right.

"The minor fall and the major lift... "

So often we take Paul's words and others like his, to mean "suck it up" or "be happy" about this event that has caused you pain. Don't shed a tear, become hard, become strong...

Wrong.

Cry, weep, break... let Him lift your head. Because God cries with us, He cried when he was here. We do not come to know Him in the blessing, but in the breaking. That is why a good God lets bad things happen to good people.

Doctors smack a baby to open it's lungs so that it will cry and be able to breathe, or it will die.

It seems too simple and profound written down. It's much more confusing in the realm of reality. It's much harder to see the good, loving and purposeful movement of a God who IS all knowing, all loving and all crazy about us when the rains come. When your husband dies, when your friends get cancer, when you lose your job, when your wife leaves you, when you are lonely, when you are starving. But we must recall that Jesus knew all these times too, and in the incredibly observant simply put words of my adamant brother...

"Jesus' suffering only helped his case"...

'Birds out of the nest.

Finally went to a game at New Busch.
I had free tix from the real estate man. (My realtor is, DA MAN by the way. Anyone need a realtor.. please don't hesitate to contact me for Mister B.J. Sonderman's info. He's awesome and I went to high school with him...Rockstar.)

Anywho. I'm a little dissappointed in the Stadium. I liked it overall and I didn't want to take a hammer to it or anything, but I miss Old Busch.. with it's ... roundness. It's closed in-ness. From section 329 you can't see the left fielder, and the blazin' sun is in your eye until the top of the fourth, but overall, it's a happy place. Take my view with a grain of salt considering I'm the girl that didn't want a new car because she was so attached to her '92 Pontiac Bonneville whose wheels were falling off. What? It only had 156K on it! C'mon. I loved that car. (I was constantly running into curbs and breaking the fog lights, so it always had an "eyes-poked-out" quality to it.)

And I loved Busch stadium. At least the hotdogs are the same. That would have been a real travesty*.

On the weekend agenda: First big tournament this weekend for b-ball (in Bellevegas no doubt..) Markus and Annie! make the switch from MH to WG. (whoop whoop), and Jeff Stiles is a year older. (Horppy Borthday, Coach Z).

I'm feeling a little better physically, thanks for the prayers.

(Authors note: I did not have a hot dog last night, I had nachos... but the sentiment still applies)

Rough Week

It's been a rough week.

Two lost credit cards were followed by a rental car fiasco. Apparantly you can't rent a car without a credit card. I was almost calling a cab to drive me an hour to Woodstock IL, when God reminded me of the New York and Company mastercard that I had randomly stuck in my bag. I wasn't even going to activate it. I was going to cut it up and not use it, but for some reason I had it. I activated it, and drove away in a blue trail blazer. Weird how that works sometimes.

After a semi productive meeting, I drove back in the rain. Had a struggle with the toll booth. Don't ask.

On to Chicago O'Hare, the black hole of inefficiency. I wasn't scheduled to leave until 8:10, I got an earlier flight, but it changed gates three times, and was delayed several hours (still earlier than eight...).

I am feeling sick lately, and I can't seem to kick it, or to get it bad enough to actually slow me down. So if you are a praying sort, please send some up for my puny self. It's a thing where my body is exhausted and feels like it could keel over at any moment, but my brain is racing and wont slow down. I took Tylenol PM and woke up at 1AM, rather ticked that I was awake at such an hour after doping myself.

Saturday (in the midst of being uber productive) I lose my phone, and realize that I am a hopeless, hopeless case. This one wasn't totally my fault, a lady at the Home Depot stole my cart. I bent over to look at some plants and when i stood up it was gone. I shrugged and got another not realizing that she had made off with my phone. I missed hanging with my college roomie because of it, and was generally in a swampy mood. A surprisingly fun baby shower and a couple of eye-opening books later, I am feeling a little better.

I want so much, and I just have to wait for it. I have no choice...but to wait. And
I.
Am.
So.
Flawed. Forgetful. Absent minded. Sick. Human....

God has met me in the wait, in the sick, in the forgetfulness. I magically had a credit card. I recieved the others in the mail. I found the phone, before it rained. My fabulous family helped me with my yard. I planted some daisies and some other stuff. Then it rained. Perfectly.

I hadn't been to church in a couple of weeks, and it was starting to show. I went and was so blessed.. Blessed by daddies holding thier daughters in their arms and worshipping. They weren't the sitcom dads, burdened with their kids, bored with thier wives, they were real guys, in love with their families, crazy about their non-supermodel wives and they seemed that they couldn't be happier, that they didn't want to be anywhere else on a Sunday morning. I needed to see that. I have been wrong. I wept.

I don't know what he's doing with me right now. But if I know anything.. it's that my shit has a point.

Spam Haiku

Lately I've been getting interesting spam. It's like structured or something. The person and a weird subject line that has nothing to do with the message.

Lew Peters Braise
Gertie Baxter Shortcut Idiosyncratic
Christy Rodgers Octopi Badly

I almost like skimming it.

In 2nd grade Mrs. Butcher would always have us start our Monday writings off with "This weekend I..."

I think mine would have read like this:
"This weekend I went to eat supper at Angela's house. She is my friend. She made salsa. It was so good, it had corn, and beans, and avocados, and onions, and tomatoes in it. Her other friends were there. They have kids. They were sooooo cute. We laughed and laughed.

Then I went out to a bar in Dogtown for Cinco de Mayo. My friends were there. It took me awhile to find them. I found them. I left sad.

Saturday, I got up early. I met Bill, Rich, and Kyle for golf. It was cold and wet. But then it was nice. I played well. We ate hamburgers and drank beer. I won a prize. I went home after that and took a nap. My hair was wet after showering. When I woke up it stuck out in funny directions, but I didn't care. Deana called and we got dinner with our friends and saw a movie. It was a movie about gymnastics. It was very very good.

My friends came over to my house and played a game, but Anne fell asleep on the couch.

Sunday I slept through church because I felt bad. I got up and went to work. I went to my basketball game. We lost. It sucked.

Then I drove home. I need an oil change, and gas. I got the gas. Still need the oil change.

I ate fish with my family. My Aunt talked. My Aunt other cried. I love them very much. I love fish very much.

I lost my ATM card in the machine. It got shredded. I don't have my other credit card and last night I wrote my last check. I am a genius. A genius with no money. I've been bumming cash and eating stale graham crackers. Lindsey is stupid. Lindsey can't find things. Lindsey got a quality report back on a design she did saying that she didn't use commas in the appropriate places....

I BLAME YOU MRS. BUTCHER!!!

Actually...

Actually....The quote on the right hand side was first stated by Marianne Williamson in her book, Nelson Mandela did not say it. (Fabbs, this wasn't just for you.. several people try to tell me this) When I put it up there I actually looked it up and found several sources saying it is not Mandela's, including this one.

Actually... I love Square One TV. I wish they would come out on DVD. I think not only do I love the math, which was not very advanced in general, but I love the punny nature of the presenation of the math. For example, my brother's favorite music video "8 percent of my love". And the classic "Mathman" a video game based on "Pacman" . "Mathman...your mission is to eat ONLY prime numbers. Beware the notorious Mr. Glitch... He will EAT you if you are wrong.

Oh that is good stuff.

Actually... I'm thinking about going to an Over the Rhine show as a road trip. Anyone want to go with? Fort Wayne? Or Chicago? Or Nashville? I'm leaning toward Ft. Wayne 'cause it's a Saturday, and the Chicago show is on a Tuesday. And I'm leaning away from the Cornerstone trip, because... eh.