KenJa the NinJa.

Over the Rhine...

He visits at night.

I am a basket case right now. After a hard four days of meetings in which I do no actual production, I had a day an a half to myself to really get down to brass tacks and get something accomplished. I thought I did a pretty bang up job, myself, but I can't seem to get over this hump.

So does this hump ever go away? It seems like I forgot how to operate lately. I am so scared of everything. Let's drill this down. The times that I react the most and have the most anxiety are when some one seems to question my intelligence. Even when they have a right to. I don't get it. I just spaz out when some one tries to correct me. I feel so very justified in my right to be respected I completely lose it. I cannot figure this out. Scott says that the place where we react the strongest is where our idols live. What is this idol I have? It's certainly work related and It's certainly self-directed, so I know it's not me being over passionate about the truth of God. Is it that if you strip away my brain, and my wit away (the brain and the wit, consequently, have been negated quite effectively as of late, I am working with people who are so smart that it would appear I am only here to carry their stuff around, and the language barrier makes my jokes fall on dead ears.) I find that I am just standing here naked and everyone now knows there is really nothing special there. And my whole life is an orchestration to keep people from somehow figuring that out.

What if they find out?

Or worse... what if they already know?

Why don't I know that I am special? Why do I now, at 27 years of age have this all of a sudden identity crisis?

I have often thought of myself as a candy. Not unlike one of those Queen Anne chocolate covered cherries my Grandmother loves. Hard, cold, crunchy exterior and runny, drippy, gooey messy interior. That interior is the super sensitive me. The one that you can hurt very easily if I let you past the shell. The goo feels it can do nothing perfectly enough. The outside can't really do much. It feels it can't make a difference, it can't really be a catalyst for change because what if the exterior forgets its important job of keeping the goo at bay? Maybe I'm more like that little green nuclear/bio-terror weapon in "THE ROCK"...What if it leaked out and exploded on contact with the world? The world doesn't care for my tender interior. It has long shown me that.

Why the hell am I blogging this? Probably because you can't fix a problem and have others help you fix it if you don't put it out there. And I like analogies using the word 'goo'.

I am thinking that the operation I need to have is a re-distribution surgery to even out my density. I need to be more like a pumpkin. Still sweet and tender on the inside, but with a less damageable interior structure. More consistent. And that skin.. it still takes some work to get through but it's not as hard. Not as dark, and just a jigsaw away?

Oh to be a pumpkin! To have all that stringy gross stuff scooped out of you and a placed light inside that shines through and in spite of the vessel it's in. I desire to be a Gourd.

There it is.. that mushiness again. It's not about me.

It's not about me. How do we live with an outward focus, without disrespecting and hating the vessel we occupy? How do we love ourselves and see the way God sees, yet not become vain and obsessive? How do we not hate ourselves for not knowing the answers.

Monty says: "I think you out-think yourself" Probably true...but how do you stop?

Please answer in 1 million words or less. You know.. if you have answers.

Traveling Mercies...or lack thereof.

Hello friends, I'm writing from beautiful Basel, Switzerland.  It's not at all like I remember, not a yucky industrial city, but rather a small charming city on the banks of the Rhine.  I think I may have spelled that wrong. Too tired to check.

 

I left on Friday at 1:20 pm.  The very second I got in the air, the plane I was on to Atlanta was put in a holding pattern which caused me to miss my connecting flight to Zurich.  After waiting in line with a nice young Swiss man who missed his Zurich connection as well, for a few hours.  We both had "stand by" tickets on a flight to Paris leaving that night on Air France.  Had to wait on pins and needles while 499 other passengers boarded the Beluga-whale shaped plane to receive the very last seat.  I was lucky enough to make the flight but my traveling partner did not. Felt like one of those odd moments when you win a beauty pageant and you have to like feel a lot sorry for the runner up.  But you are really not that sorry. I was so glad I got on that plane.  Sorry Niklas. 

 

The flight to Paris was awful, that last seat I got on the plane was broken, the headrest wouldn't say up. French steward dude tried to help, but didn't really care.  Sat next to Erik the Snuggling German, and behind a South African shin banging seat recliner man.  Got to Paris and missed my connection to Zurich.  Not in small part thanks to mister between-terminals-bus-driver man who replaced a seeming competent bus driver and commenced his FIRST DAY ON THE JOB training.  Awesome.  Sorry Mademoiselle, your next flight will not leave until it is the perfect time to make you not want to take a train straight to Basel, but it will be delayed another two hours because we, are incompetent and can't make a flight land or take off on time.

 

Get to Zurich.  Luggage?  Hmm.  Didn't leave Atlanta.  That seems to be Americas fault, but I still blame France.  And Portugal.  Mostly because Portugese sounds nothing like Spanish so I couldn't fight with the lady who tried to butt in line infront of me in the "we lost our luggage line".   Hey lady, no espanol, no service.  And I had an hour train to catch after that.  So after 24 hours travelling I arrived in Basel and the crew met me at the station and took my carry on from me and graciously carried it the rest of the night.  We had some good food (for Europe) and a great night sleep in a pretty nice European hotel.  After two days in the same t-shirt and a move to a hotel that actually had internet... and a garden... and free cokes in said garden... I got my luggage back and then took a hot bath.  MMMMmmmmm.  Much better. 

 

Electical situation is good, only burned up my hair straightener thus far, and that is a sad causualty but I will find another... one that the power grid in Switzerland can handle.

 

Man I work with some smart people.  I tell you what.  I am blown away by the minds I'm with for these two weeks.  Couldn't ask for better road warriors.  The Swiss are strange, Deiter-like, nice, smart beautiful people.  Watches and trains and buses they do very well, air conditioning, not so much...

 

Pics when I get time. 

 

Linz

Blue and Fruit

Out of the blue I have to have a surgery.  I have just recently found out that I have three rather large fibroid tumors in my uterus.  They are about the size of grapefruits or something.  Good news is that this is fairly common and it shouldn't have any long term effect, they are benign but i do require an incision to remove them and I will have a 4-6 week recovery time.   I'm doing fine with this and am not in any discomfort or anything, just weirded out that I have three citrus fruits in my womb.  Mostly scared about missing that much work.  I'll be on short-term disability so finances and vacation time isn't the issue, it's more about being out of the saddle for that long. Ultimately God is driving the bus and I am more than safe in his hands, but still... I have fruit salad, and temporarily, no purpose.  Weird. 

 

You may be surprised that I'm blogging about this, but I'm fairly open with stuff like this and I think it's important to tell women to GET TO THE GIRL DOCTOR.  I hadn't gone in three years and I am regretting my squeamish-ness about this.  This is much more a big deal than my root canal...

 

Anyway this adventure isn't without a blog worthy story:

 

I am getting ready to get my MRI scan done to figure out how these babies are attached, and "the Dude" running the desk takes me back to a small lockerroom.  A. It was a Dude, I guess that isn't uncommon, but when getting your scrubs handed to you it's odd having a dude tell you what things to leave on and what to take off.  B. "The Dude" hands me a giant, blue.. PARACHUTE??? What IS this thing?  I swear it was 4X day at the hospital and these crazy blue paper scrubs were GI-NORMOUS!  If I had dropped my business card in them me and LITERALLY four our five of my closest friends could have been joining me in this free time-share of a pair of pants.  It was nutty.  The sillouette of me in these pants was so much like a ping-pong paddle on it's end I almost snapped a picture of it so I could blog it, but I didn't. (try to hide your disappointment)  C.  I walk back out of the dressing room with my sandals, my scrub top, and my hammer pants and Dude says to me, "You can have a seat back in the waiting room if you like."  I obediently slithered back toward the double doors that I walked through earlier, the other side of which were scads of fully clothed people reading magazines.  Then I stopped.  "You want me to go where?"  I am only still wearing 5% of the clothing that I came in here with and those people out there are not trained medical professionals.  Dude says "Well there a TV in there, but you can sit wherever you want."  Thanks.  I'll give up the TV.  Me and my blue paper tent are just fine here where there is no danger of givin' any octegenarian a free shot.  I was seriously wondering if I was being Punk'd.  Insane.

 

So if you are a praying sort, I could use some prayer for this.  I am also leave for Switzerland on Friday for two weeks.  It's a work trip and I'm generally a dork, so stay tuned for good stories of Murl abroad.

 

I'm sure 4-6 weeks at home will be good fodder for this blog thing that I've all but abandoned.

 

I also have ripped out basement pictures to show you...ooh are you all tingly????
 

Love Joel

3: 9 Proclaim this among the nations:

Prepare for war!

Rouse the warriors!

Let all the fighting men draw near and attack.
10 Beat your plowshares into swords

and your pruning hooks into spears.

Let the weakling say,

"I am strong!"

Upon re-reading this whole passage..., it didn't mean what I thought it meant. But I do like what it does mean. I still like how it sounds.

I wanted this verse to say: "RISE UP MIGHTY WARRIORS!! BEAT YOUR RUSTY OLD BENT TOOLS INTO SPEARS AND FIGHT!!" "FIGHT AND USE WHAT EVER YOU HAVE LAYING AROUND! FIGHT AGAINST THE ENEMY" But that's really not what it says. It says fight how you will, bend your lame excuses into weapons but you are going to war with me over your wickedness and I'm gonna win. There is a bounty of evil that is to be harvested an judged.

11 Come quickly, all you nations from every side,
and assemble there.
Bring down your warriors, O LORD!
12 "Let the nations be roused;
let them advance into the Valley of Jehoshaphat,
for there I will sit
to judge all the nations on every side.
13 Swing the sickle, for the
harvest is ripe. Come, trample the grapes,
for the winepress is full
and the vats overflow—
so great is their wickedness!"
14 Multitudes, multitudes in the valley of
decision! For the day of the LORD is near
in the valley of decision.
15 The sun and moon will be darkened, and the
stars no longer shine.
16 The LORD will roar from Zion
and thunder from Jerusalem;
the earth and the sky will tremble.
But the LORD will be a refuge for his
people, a stronghold for the people of
Israel.

I was looking for something to pick us up. Not beat us down. Church is whiny lately. Everything is sadness. Everything is trial. And SO much so that it is depressing me a bit.

I am a wreck and so are my friends. Some of us are so hurting and broken and pathetic. We all know who Jesus is. If we knew healing would it be any different? Would we be whole-er? Do you ever look at someone else and say. That person is whole. Not really. I used to think those people existed, but I was very wrong. We are not capable. Does the surface of a person actually change when the heart is redeemed? It must. But you can't do it backwards. The heart must change first. Otherwise the surface works are pecked out by the black crows of criticism and the world. The world is aching and it needs it's Jesus. It's comfort. It's hope.

13Then Jesus said to them, "Don't you understand this parable? How then will you
understand any parable? 14The farmer sows the word. 15Some people are like seed
along the path, where the word is sown. As soon as they hear it, Satan comes and
takes away the word that was sown in them. 16Others, like seed sown on rocky
places, hear the word and at once receive it with joy. 17But since they have no
root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of
the word, they quickly fall away. 18Still others, like seed sown among thorns,
hear the word; 19but the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth and
the desires for other things come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful.
20Others, like seed sown on good soil, hear the word, accept it, and produce a
crop—thirty, sixty or even a hundred times what was sown."

Yeowsah. Just cut myself on a thorn.

Thoughts on messes.

I am in love. With a woman. My cleaning lady.


We'll call her Diane. Because that is her name. Folks... I know that it seems a little bit like cheating to get a cleaning lady, a little, shall we say.. extravagant? But TRRRUST me. This lady, for a measly 20bucks an hour makes my life easier. What's weirder, is that she seems to love doing it. I had her come over this past Tuesday and I was promising myself to not be one of those peeps who cleans their house before the cleaning lady comes over, but I couldn't help it.. I was straightening and fussing the night before like a goon. Didn't seem to matter, this gal came in, and it almost brought a tear to my eye to see THROUGH my glass shower doors once again. I didn't think it would ever be possible. I didn't think I could ever let Cary Murphy see my house ever again. But now, I'd let her eat off my shower doors. I'm not sure how that would work, maybe I'd spray someting jam-like on them and squeegee it onto some toast? Dunno. Anyway...it was one more task I got to take off my list of things to do that week. It totally freed me up to not feel guilty about not doing it again, and getting back to living life. I don't know if I'll become a regular or just get quick fixes once in awhile (is this how drug addicts start?) but I do know that it was SUCH a blessing WELL worth my time and money. May I suggest similar gifts to any and all moms out there for this upcoming holiday?

May I suggest not getting your hair dyed three times in one day? I hate my hair right now. For it to be my natural dirty blonde color ever again, I will need to Sinead it all off or let it grow striped-ly out. Two-tone Malone.

For those of you privy to the cleaning lady discussion, I had this post crafted before that conversation came up.. so don't think I'm beating this dead horse to a bloody pulp.

But do think that I am amazed and awed, humbled and happy to be clean.

I have finally done it.. lost the last retainer in my set of four. In less than six months I have lost six total pieces. One to a lawn mower, one to a church gymnasium, two to a random place I have yet to figure out, no make that three, and now, one to Qdoba. I'm a mess.

Why is that Lady Screaming?

A portion of one of my engineering drawings. Monty says: "Why is that Lady Screaming?"

Ramen Noodles

Great people go to my church. It's really cool. Props to Mary Schawacker. Cool lady. Makes the place run like a top.


"If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even ‘sinners’ lend to ‘sinners,’ expecting to be repaid in full. But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful."


Nice walk today with a most excellent companion.


Nice burning on the top of my red feet. I have been known to be allergic to certain types of carpet fibers... Which is nice. No more dancing and being silly for me!
The palms of my hands swelled up as well. Strange freaky freak-ness.


Nice Dinner and Movie company on Friday night. Fracture is a good flick, go see it. See if you can figure it out.

My brother shattered his personal best record this weekend at 474 YARDS. That's right. YARDS... that almost five football fields and thirty past his last PB.


I love my hammock. LOVE IT.


I love my yard. I love spring in St. Louis


Love love love.


Grace like Rain.

Guitar Playing Goat

Gray, quiet and tired and mean

Picking at a worried seam

I try to make you mad at me over the phone.

Red, eyes and fire and signs

I'm taken by a nursery rhyme

I want to make a ray of sunshine and never leave home

No amount of coffee, no amount of crying

No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine

No, nothing else will do

I've gotta have you, I've gotta have you.

The road gets cold, there's no spring in the middle this year

I'm the new chicken clucking open hearts and ears

Oh, such a prima donna, sorry for myself

But green, it is also summer

And I won't be warm till I'm lying in your arms

I see it all through a telescope: guitar, suitcase, and a warm coat

Lying in the back of the blue boat, humming a tune...

Lines from the Weepies are running through my head. As much as I wish that Jane wasn't so perfect at being my musical barometer, she is. I like a lot of the music she so graciously sends me. It feels like cheating. Like I didn't dig around fifty music festivals and find these diamonds in the rough, it almost feels like I'm not allowed to lay claim to the music that steals her heart as mine. But once you drive through the stiffling rain, broken wiper banging on something that it shouldn't be banging on, and find yourself flipping the arrowed buttons on the steering wheel to the tracks that sing YOUR life, you really cannot help yourself. They feel like an old college buddies, hugging your heart and letting you know...Hey girl, I been there... and I sang about it..and we danced to it.

"Sometimes rain that's needed falls, We float like two lovers in a painting by Chagall, All around is sky and blue town, Holding these flowers for a wedding gown, We live so high above the ground, satellites surround us.

"I am humbled in this city, There seems to be an endless sea of people like us, Wakeful dreamers, I pass them on the sunlit streets In our rooms filled with laughter, We make hope from every small disaster, Everybody says "you can't, you can't, you can't, don't try." Still everybody says that if they had the chance they'd fly like we do."

Just wow...

2006

2007

What a difference almost a year makes....Case, I'm glad we have taken turns each looking somewhat normal in each of these pics...

He Said.

He said to her in her foul, depressed, icky mood:
"I love you more when you are like this."
"How is that possible?" she asks.
He said.. "Because that's when you need it more."

Birth Pains and Hope

It is said that people should live more in the moment.

I don't think I'm one of those people. I think I live too much in the moment.

The sky is drizzly and cold grey like the scarf I'm knitting. My muscles are tight and knotted with tension of a soul that cannot find it's Jesus. Can not find it's peace.

Perhaps it really is the illusion that they say it is. That contentment is never really found. That mostly you get out of the creaky bed in the cold grey half-hour late morning and you put one foot gingerly on the creaky cold hard wood and you take another step...and another... take a shower, sing a little... let the hot water work out your knotted muscles and your sore, world weary back.

And you breathe and you laugh and pray and breathe and wander and waffle and you wonder about the point. You wonder if you are doing "it" right... whatever "it" is. I have never quite felt that I am doing "it" right. I think sometimes I wrongly live for what other people want, at other times I think I'm only living for myself. I am so terrified of not being perfect.

Ladies, let me be frank, is it so abnormal for a woman not to want to be a CEO? Check that... knowing ME is it weird that I don't want to be a CEO? I am not built for it. In my young life, by the worlds standards I am highly sucessful. Especially considering that if you have a roof over your head you are considered among the richest people in the world. I have a roof AND a basement. Granted it's a basement that has crushed pipes and drippy valves and a furnace that sounds like an old man, but still it is real estate nonetheless...

I'm built for knitting and cleaning and smiling. Giving grace and hanging pictures and making art and writing and mourning and dancing. I want hot glue guns and a garden, a swiffer vacuum and mini-muffins.

I do live in the moment, oh yes. So much so that those close to me think me a bit fickle...crying one minute, laughing at a commercial the next.

I feel my pains, I feel joys, I feel things that remind me that I'm, indeed, alive. But I am still in a prison of sorts. I give it different names, but it's bars are made of shame. Shame for not being ambitious enough. Shame for having an attitude that says "I just don't WANNA". But I will because I hafta! I think the elders are all right. About most things, really.

I do not like being told what to do. The times in my life where I show the least grace to people does not have to do with substance abuse, sexual immorality, abortions, homelessness, rage, greed, or wrath... to those sins I find my heart tender and compassionate.. my hate wells up and boils when I am condescended on. When people tell me what to do and how to do it like there is no other option I do not like it. Because I am certain that no human is ever right all the time... Not even me. I don't know why it irks me so, but it irks me like nothing else.

Proverbs 29:23
A man's pride brings him low, but a man of lowly spirit gains honor...

there seemes to be no sin in the bible that is more punished than pride...

I have enough of it...

Jeremiah 49:16
The terror you inspire and the pride of your heart have deceived you, you who live in the clefts of the rocks, who occupy the heights of the hill. Though you build your nest as high as the eagle's, from there I will bring you down," declares the LORD.

I care very little if I am judged by you or by any human court; indeed, I do not even judge myself. My conscience is clear, but that does not make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait till the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of men's hearts. At that time each will receive his praise from God.

I tremble.. who can stand?

Can I go where He went?

Hooray for:

Being wrapped in blankets and belly laughs on my front porch with wine and a backdrop of spice bushes and tulips.
Cowboy Boyd's Rasperry Chipotle Salsa.
Beautiful Upstate New York.
Trips to Chicago, Superdawg and the House of Blues.
Buildings that disappear into the clouds at night.
Seeing where my boy grew up. Seeing how he grew up.
Growing up.
DietCoke,DietCoke,DietCoke,DietCoke,DietCoke,DietCoke,DietCoke...
Margarita on the Rocks!
Mowing the front lawn.
Getting the Mini-Muffin recipe that I have been begging for for years and years, given to my by the folks who consider me the daughter they never had.
Liz visiting my church.
Angela eating my vegan nuggets.
Charlie Brown Christmas.
Huge wheels of cheese on the salad bar at dinner.
Humility. From Pastors, Associate Pastors, Boyfriends, and self.
Baby showers bring May flowers, and pens wrapped in flowers, and flower seeds, and cookies shaped like flowers.
Notorious D's Mom.
Easter.
A date for Forest Park.
Leviticus 8.
My boyfriend getting a sexy new ride.
My funny co-workers who actually get my jokes.
Jesus. Sweet Jesus. Whom I need to pour grace on me, whom I need to carry me, whom I need to teach me.
Al-be-coy-kee.

You are Indescribable

I must have blinked.  It feels like I got on a plane back in early March and it was snowing sideways, and this morning there was a beautiful tree outside my window in it's white blossomy robe.   When did this happen?  Where did winter go?

 

Last year I felt I was starting to thaw out at about this time.  This year feels just as significant, and even more so, yet I can't figure out the word that goes with it. 

 

I have much to say, much to praise, much to mourn.

 

But not today. 

 

Today I soak.

 

Three double oh.

My very second post ever was about one of my most favorite books. 'Gates of Fire' by Steven Pressfeld, depicting the 300 Spartans that held off the Massive Persian Army in a narrow mountain pass for three days.

I always thought it would make a great movie. And it did. I went and saw 300 with Monty and Duster and it was awesome. I guess it got bad reviews, and I was a little scared to see it but this is one of my favorite stories of all time and I felt they did a good job with it. Except for some perhaps unecessary skin.

Where is the honor? Where has honor gone?

Those men would have rather died than live with dishonor. Fires me up I tell ya.

Unbelievable. It's based on a comic book series that was based on a true event, the story portrayed had a little more mythological fantastical license, but the basic story is the same. I do not know why this particular story strikes such a chord with me...

Go see it.. it's good.

Since everyone else is....

Upon returning from vacation and checking blogs most have mentioned, in some form, their favorite college basketball team and their faring in the Madness. I have similar news. The Division III basketball world is already knee-deep into it's madness, and this year both the women AND men from Washington University are going to the Final Four!
This is awesome because it's the men's first time EVER to go, and it's the women's first time to go since I graduated in 2001. The women started this year 1-3 lost their starting point guard to a knee injury and have finished 29-5 overall in true Bear fashion. They have not been a dominate team, but they have found ways to win, and at this time of the year, I think that is more important. Read about them HERE I give my "Yeah Bears" salute. I'll be listening in "washed-up has-been" style this Friday at 6pm eastern on my computer if anyone is looking for me. I've been gone awhile and you all may have forgotten that I exist. I still live in the same house, I have just returned from a much-needed, very restful 10-day vacation. Ski and surf. I did nothing but eat, it seemed, so I have gained about 15 pounds which I look forward to sheding with the advent of spring and the resuming of competitive sports. I still love my long lost friends who I look forward to seeing with the termination of my sentence in Indiana-ville. (ONE MORE WEEK!!!) I still have a boyfriend whose parents I was visiting out in LA for a few days. He still lives here and will be back in a week as well. I have now officially had an IN-n-OUT burger, and have seen a sunset in La Jolla, got a massage in CO, did some skiing, saw some dear friends and took a spin through the Denver Art museum, ate lunch on a roof across from Coors field, and was then subsequently attacked with a debilitating case of the sniffles. I finally gave up and just jammed a tissue up my schnoz and left it there for the duration of the flight. Hey? I ask you, what is more embarrasing: that, or having your nose spontaneously and uncontrollably drip liquid on the magazine your seat mate is reading? Yeah...snot-wick it is. I hope you missed me, I missed you.
I lead a charmed life. Time to start a new season of it. I don't know what it will bring. I have no guarantees. I have a potential new project at work in the works.. (a LOCAL one!) and other than that... I do not know what lies ahead for me. The future is a blackened chicken sandwich... no.. er.. I mean a blackened hole of unknown-ness. I feel rested but scared, and hopeful yet terrified, and answers seem obvious yet impossible to carry out. I went to the retreat...I know God only sees the good, yet I feel he must be disappointed in me, in my selfishness. In spending an absurd amount of money on vacations and massages and movies, yet I didn't miss the little glimpses he left for me: the exit row seat on EVERY leg of every flight (even when I had a "B" boarding pass, the arrival of jane lee's delicious Christmas mix just before I am ready to get into the car for hopefully one last drive to Indiana...

I saw Him in the fact that the condo we stayed in had amongst it's game collection a DELUXE edition of Scrabble, four willing and able participants, and a rocky mountain-ous view that God painted himself...just for me.

I saw Him in the sea lions and their adorable two-by-two waddlings as they sunned themselves on the sand.

I saw Him in the beautiful little four year old I had dinner with. We drew animals on her notepad for two hours.

I saw Him in the vastness of the ocean and in the hospitality of old and new friends.

I saw Him in the embrace of someone who knows me, really knows me, and somehow, someway, loves me still.

I saw Him in the tears.

Takin' a Break..

I am going to be in SoCal visiting for five days and then I'm going to be shooshing down the slopes for a few days in Colorado.

 

I need this...

 

I have been neglecting my blog but when I get back...look out!

 

Exodus 29, (click me...)

Catching Up

Snow fell. It silences and softens a crackly withered landscape. It forces you to be still a little bit. To breathe. To sigh. To smile and shrug your shoulders up a little bit.
Backed into a garage waiting for 21 to arrive. Silently, Prayerfully. Who is this guy?



I'm starting to know. It's terrifyingly exciting and dependable and secure all at the same time.



I'm starting to know less and less about more and more. And it's ok. No one likes a know it all. Like why is it better to sit in public and not hold the hand of the person you are crazy about? Surrounded by sullen married people in a restaurant both saddened and angered me. (no mom, not you and dad.. you two are anything but sullen). What was the point? Choose joy for pete's sake. Choose to be enamored, choose to have some fellowship. Choose to talk about more than dumb gross surface things. Cant we talk about the deep stuff? Why do we avoid community like the plague? Why do we pretend it's all we want when we do not really want it? There things we are carrying with us that we shouldn't carry alone.


There used to be a tirade here..but I decided it's not real.. I'm just looking for a softer place to land. Anyone?


I need to be more forgiving. More understanding. Lord have mercy.


I need to moisturize. Brisk Indiana winds have ripped off my skin cells by the trillion. Leaving a tight crunchy surface that threatens to start a fire on my polyester hotel 'comforter'. Anybody need a blade sharpened? Take my left heel...


I need to not be black headed anymore. My "caRcasian" scalp burned with the second dose of chemicals of the day. Not cool. Blond roots are not cool.



New boots are cool.



Talking to sweet wonderful Angela is cool. I think she was put on this earth so that I wouldn't be alone. To think a thought is to have her understand it, speak truth to it, and not judge it, all in the same turn. She is my dearest. She is my girl crush and I will shout it from the rooftops. I will ride my tooth bike to Indiana talking to her on the phone for the rest of my days. Seems unfair that I don't get more credit for appreciating her in the kingdom of God. You know.. because it's upside down and all. You get more brownie points for learning to like the un-likeable.. but Angie is so stinkin likeable she blows my heavenly handicap! Dirty!

The team got back together this weekend to celebrate one of the most shining examples of humanity that I know. I can't really put adequate words to Alia, how sweet, genuine and just angelically good that she is. She and her unborn baby 'Timalia' and her family were here this past weekend along with some others. It is always good times to reunite and remember one of the best functional groups of people that I have ever been a part of. Out of the blue, T-Raj came to the festivites Friday night with a most interesting and unexpected aura. Bubbly, happy, speaking of 'being in church' which thrills me, and raises a zillion questions that I can't ask.
Alia and I kinda have "mirrored" images of hair... nice part yes? I also forget how tall she it.. I was wearin flats, but she towers over me.. Don't be fooled.

AND Don't you ever count out a basketball team that is under Coach Nancy Fahey. A team which stated out the season 1-3 or something has blossomed into a contender in the UAA, after losing their starting point guard who was last years rookie of the year, and graduating their leading scorer from last year who dropped 23 a game! A team with two healthy seniors on it, a senior playing with a bionic shoulder and the rest, inexperienced sophomores. They went 2-0 this weekend and into sole possesion of first in the UAA. It's the halfway point and the road trips are infront of us, not behind us... so it's still early. But just goes to show you what an amazing program Washington University womens b-ball really is. Ok I may be a LITTLE biased. But this is the first time we've been underdogs. Which is a scary place to put us. Go ahead leave us out of the top 25 ranking for the first time in nine years... see what happens with that. See how that goes for ya. It's hoops time and I'm fired up.

This is Great...

Great weekend all in all. I gotta start off with something that made me laugh in that way that I do when I can't breathe.

I'm sitting on the bleachers watching the Wash U NYU game this past Sunday, all of a sudden, I see this long oblong thing out of the corner of my eye...rolling. Rolling exactly parallel to the court...rolling so fast. Then I see a sandy haired little boy chasing after the object I at first thought it was a cigar or something... The gal I was sitting with then identifies the object and exclaims: "Whoop, runaway hotdog!" Oh that thing was rollin' so fast, I don't know how it got going quite that fast.. but the kid had obviously dropped it. The kid chases it down, before it goes onto the court and scoops it up and slaps it into the bun. "Five Second Rule".

I wish you could have seen this hotdog. Rolled evenly in court dirt. It was awesome. Wash u has the best hotdogs.. they are much like the ones you could get at Busch Stadium.

I don't think this was quite as funny to anyone else.. but I was DYING. It was just rolling so fast... oh the runaway hotdog... I swear I'm sitting here laughing just thinking of it.

One Day More

Wow. What a difference a day makes. Just A day ago, I was not communicating well with my man, fighting with co-workers, feelin groggy, didn't drink a monster ('monster' being the new favorite low-cal low-carb energy bervage that some describe as liquid cocaine) lost two of three in a marathon volleyball match and mistook Phil Woods for my boyfriend on the phone... it was traumatic, don't ask.

Today started off with a Monster! (mmmm mama like...) Ended with all being right with the world again. In the space between, I : A. reconnected with one of my best grade school friends from Texas via the myspace world, B. Was so stinkin proud of my Monty on the radio today talking about how the parents of the Hornbeck boy are nuts for putting that kid on Oprah so soon after the trauma. C. Went to ON TAP and realized I have come a long LONG way in my struggle to see myself as beautiful. D. Received a free stay at the company condo! Woo Hoo. E. Got some fresh advice from a co-worker in the matters of life that matter. F. Got some good work done today. G. Read more Exodus. H. Resurrected my love for chicken parts with the advent of a new poppyseed dressing. Something I 've always loved about processed compressed breaded chicken matter slathered in the gooey sweetness of poppyseed sauce. Love it. It's strange and it's going to kill me on day, but I'll die happy.

I'm sure there were more good things. Many more. It is good when it takes more energy to count ones blessings than it does to count ones pains. Some will point and call me a Pollyanna. I will not care.

I will have joy. Just a smidge... on toast points. You must try one.

"Everybody Loves You?"

And other phrases that inspire neurosis....

"Bless your Heart"
"I very much like your dress, it does wonders for your figure"
"Has anyone ever told you that you remind them of Courtney Love?"

I thought I would have more of these...

Feel free to add your favorite non-complimentary compliment.

Tired

I'm tired of fighting.
I'm not made for it. But you, Lord, massive, mighty Lord, are in control.
I'm not made to pave my own way.. I'm not built for the war for truth. I'm quite certain I'm not even built for this world. I have tried to become that which life has required me to be.
I've tried hard to be the girl that can take care of herself. But time and time again, I fail miserably.
I try to obtain significance.

Jesus.. if only I believed that you are my sole source of significance.

If I could only convince the world that I AM significant because of you. If only they would recognize your blood on me.

If only I found everyone else in my life as significant as YOU find them to be.

Come, Already! My heart is heavy. It's work to carry it around in my chest. Feels as if I've been given an x-ray apron and instructions to run. If I didn't have this stupid heart, it would be easier. Oh yes easier.

Is it wrong to be so sensitive?

I think PMS kicks my ass every month and I'm suprised by it every time.

Pillar of Pants.

Hello all,

I have been inspired to take an inventory by many things this blustery evening. I am inspired by reading Christmas blogs, and Christmas e-mails from people I haven't heard from in ages. Also inspired by reading the bible and praying this evening with Tim on the phone. Nothing I like better than pointing and snickering at the patriarchs only to realize that, we too, are hopeless broken pieces of creation. Nothing better thing than finding those truths in the crinkly pages of scripture with someone you care about very much. At any rate, it's time for the year end inventory. Not to be confused with the year-end 'pant' inventory I did today after finally washing every single article of clothing that I own. (I have two plaid pairs, two navy pairs, two long black pairs, two corduroy pairs, one sizzly red pair, two brown pairs, one olive green pair, two khaki pair, two pinstriped pair and two grey pair. Not counting jeans, Capri's and gauchos, I think that's a mighty solid inventory.) The patriarchs measured wealth in goats and sheep and cattle. I think pants are a suitable modern equivalent. That means, I am one blessed cookie. These aren't ordinary pants either.. they are extra long for my 6'2" frame mind you, so I consider myself extra blessed that they even exist in such abundance. Praise God. And I'm so not even being irreverent about that.

"And God said to Lindsey... let the pants come two by two into your closet that is only one cubit by a half cubit in size... "

Anyway.. I have a lot of pants. Which is necessary in my line of work. Construction liaisons can't really wear skirts and be taken seriously, or climb ladders, or scaffolds..(Mom, close your eyes..I don't climb anything dangerous.....and I certainly don't walk around on the roof amongst gaping holes that don't have guardrails...no really).

This is the year Monty moved here. He moved here to meet me. We can't figure out any other reason why he came here, but I am very glad he did. I guess it was also to see the Cards win a World Series... but I think that isn't even a distance second place to him.

So..... in the name of inventory. You've waited a year for it. and here it is without further adieu... the "Best" List of 2006,

Best New Marriages: Dee Dee and Shaun, Phil and Becca, Pat and Katie, Anne and Jim, Daniel and Nicole, Of Course Markus and Annie.

Best New Babies: Dan and Caroline, Blazer and Rachel, Sweeney and uh.. Sweeney, Soon to be Stiles and Shearman..High Honorable Mention to Niece Reese (not really a baby and not really my niece, but precious and wonderful just the same as a 2 year old First Cousin Once Removed).

Best Wedding Reception: Pat and Katie (most because I actually had a date that wasn't ashamed of my dance moves and because it had Scott Sauls gettin' jiggy wit it).

Best Use of Aluminum Foil: This.

Best Honor Received By A Friend: Liz and her amazing work for the black rep which won her beau coup props in the ad community and even more of my adoration... if that is possible. Best Shortening of a Church Name: "Greentree Community Church in Webster Groves" to "Riverside Church".

Best 70th birthday party: My Grandma Merrill's Luau.

Best Boyfriend Ever: Eoin Timothy Montemayor (a.k.a. my diamond in the rough).

Best Grassroots Community Movement: The Thursday nite girls crew at Llwelyns in WG. Whoop Ass, Pub Burgers and Plant Men, Oh My!!

Best Present*: Amy and I going to see the musical Annie at the Fox (*which was my '05 Christmas present).

Best Sermon at Riverside: All of them.

Best Corrective Procedure: Me getting in and out of braces in six months and for *much* less than the price of a small vehicle.

Worst Corrective Procedure: Root Canal.

Saddest but Most "Feel Good" Goodbye: Casey to Chi-town.

Happiest Goodbye: Me to my snaggle tooth (see aforesaid corrective procedure).

Biggest Tragesty (which effectively combines the words "tragedy" and "travesty" into one most heinous word..) \The fact that I haven't been skiing in two years now...Mama ain't happy.

Time that I almost peed my pants: Hanging out at Forsythes with Nick Shea, Casey, Nate, Liz and Dusty. That night was full of spunk.

Best CRB hire: Heather Jobson, awesome.

Best Pool Lessons: Dave and Busters, circa July-ish.

Best Concert: Over the Rhine TWICE once at Cornerstone with Jesse and Ange, and once in St. Louis when I was still trying to pretend I wasn't dating Tim.

Best New Hair Color: Mine going from it's natural dishwater *eh* dark boring blond.. to "PA-ZOW" smokin' hot brunette.

Best Weekend Activity: Grabbing a friend, Liz or Ange, (even Abby on the phone once...) and walking around Forest Park in it's entirety. Two and a half hours of walking. Great for the gams, great for the relationships. Such good, special, de-toxifying times.

Best Random Holiday Gift: Dad giving me a "labor day" present and buying me a snazzy-on sale refubished PUSH mower! Yesssss. Still runs like a top, Dad.

Best night in Downtown St. Louis: The time I went to Mike Shannon's with Monty for the first time, and the night the Cards won the Series. The latter was definitely a plethora of images but the most vivid was a guy running around yelling into his phone very matter-of-factly.."That's a WORLD title, baby.. that's a WORLD title!" I saw the same guy 20 minutes later talking to no one in particular still saying the same thing..."That's a WORLD title, baby.. a WORLD title". St. Louisans LOVE their Cardinals.

Best On Site Assignment: Terre Haute Indiana. Well at least it's a drive, not a flight every week, and at at least it's six months and not six years. At least I got some invaluable experience and got a native guy hired to take my place already so I didn't get stuck out here.

Best Compliment by a Boss: Lindsey, you are a F*&^ing All-Star.

Best Present I Bought Myself: Arrested Developement Season Three: Oh LMAO funny.. Sitting alone in my hotel room laughing out loud.

This year has been one of great reflection, and re-education. It was necessary, but I hope this next year is light on the contemplative and heavy on the action, as I'm ready to get off dead center, and ready to do some shakin... ready to rise up and lay my crown at his wounded feet. I'm ready to jump into life with two feet and ready to grow up some more, and give back some more of the bountiful care that my Savior gives me. Ready to do more little things that matter and not worrying about doing it perfectly, but rather, just worrying about doing it. 'Cause sitting with someone in a nursing home even if you have nothing to say.. and even if she can't hear you anyway..is better than not sitting in a nursing home visiting someone. Ready to be less of a "processor" and more of a "doer" (thank you, TM). I need to be better to my family. I've been such a sucky member of my amazing fam.

Little Miss Sunshine... go rent it.. so good. Such a sweet movie. (thank you LF)

The Bible. Read it again, for the first time. You will see things you didn't see before... I guarantee it. And I guarantee you will be blessed by the evidence of the invisible hand of the very present God in the lives of the people on the pages. You will be awed and amazed and terrified and humbled by the story of the idiots that belong to the Merciful, Mighty God.

And Jacob marked it with a pillar.. he poured out a drink offering and anointed it with oil...because God spoke to him there.

And so... with great joy.. I mark this end of 2006.

(Thanks JC)

Murly Christmas

I have a week off from Indiana, and I already spent a wonderful weekend with my family for Christmas.  This year, for some odd reason, my immediate family decided to open our gifts the day before Christmas Eve.  That meant that Christmas Day was for SLEEPING IN!!!  That equals best Christmas Day ever.  Dinner that day was grilled cheese sandwiches, not even copious ones.  We almost had to use heels, and we definitely had to dip into the cheddar, which, we all know doesn't hold a candle to the melty goodness of velveeta...Then we watched Pirates 2.  I don't care what anyone says, I liked it.  It was an impossible movie to do a sequel to, and I thought it was fabulous.  Can't wait for number three.

 

More Later.. .My body is still digesting the pile of food it ate this week...not enough juices to write....

--
Hey YOU want G-mail?  I can hook you up...
 

Counting Crows.

The trees are heavy with crows. Saturated...I can't even begin to assign a number..thousands? Yes it's thousands. A dark fluid cloud of 58,000 crows plague the city.  Like a scene from a Hitchcock movie, they swarm in a giant amoeba above the tree tops, snagging on the thick branches now and again.    I crane my neck to the front of the window of the truck to see them circling overhead.  The black long arms of the cloud seem to be performing an incantation rite above the cauldron that is Terre Haute.  Aimlessly, they wander, purposeless, dark and strange.

 

I understand that feeling sometimes, my friends.

 

More Shrapnel from my Brain Cloud.

Black Hair Dye, yipes.

Awkward Situations.

Rainy Indiana

Madly in Love

Tripped and Fell over a Rug that was advertising safety in the workplace

Feeling stupid at work

Feeling pretty good at work

Feeling pretty cold at work

Miss my best friends.

Houlihans, Kayaks, Kaldis whatever.

Miss my Missouri Life

Still stuck in Indiana for awhile.

Brother is the best guy on earth, no kiddin.

TM is up there too.

No two guys would I rather have in my man-rig.

Christmas is merry.

Vmars was not on TV last night.

Who else is NOT a fan of Hayley Duff?? what the heck.. you're all "Vote for Summer" and all of a sudden you get to host an award show with Reverend Camden? Pshaw.. as if.

Bible Study teleconferences with TM, unbelievable.

God is so big.

Artie... heh. Heheeheh. HAAHAHA. We all have had imaginary friends, haven't we?

"DO not be afraid, Abram..I am your sheild. Your very great reward." (even though you lied about your wife being your sister twice i am the LORD and I will use you anyway..)

Proof of me being the biggest losesr: Retainers, badges, powercords, alarmclocks, phone chargers, phone numbers, sewer checks, receipts,

Willie and Annie prankin me on the day of Willie's birf. Not fair.. but funny.

Miss volleyball, because I need a vetrinarian.. because my pythons are SICK.

I can't even type that with a straight face.

I wonder how people really see me. I know the way I see me is so distorted.

I wonder how God sees me. My twisted mind says no one could possibly see the good, my sinful nature says the truly bad isn't that bad... how far from the truth.

Beth Moore reunion is new and not a rerun? How can that be?

I wonder if I will ever live as simply and as freely as Jesus would want me to? For my sake, not only his.

I wonder if I will ever make a good mom. I'm so selfish.

I wonder if I will ever trim my toenails again. I'm going for a Guiness over here.

I wonder if JL knows what an idiot she is, what a gold mine she has. Had? Has? who knows.

I wonder if anyone really eats the pickles at the chinese buffet in Terre Haute that are in the big vat inconveniently located next to the cottage cheese compartment... ahem... ew.

I wonder if anyone reads me anymore. I've become sparse.

Biggest Losers is on.. Crying. Slightly comforting to know that in order to lose 50% of my body weight, I would have to chop a leg off. Even thought I eat the sausage biscuits at the Drury Inn breakfast buffet with no shame.

Hotel comforters... can they even be classifed as such?

If you are reading this and you are in Missouri..or Illinois, or Pennsylvania, or California, or Texas, or Minnesota, or Washington....chances are I miss you.

Take Another Very Painful Vote...

What is the WORST part about finding the retainers (that you thought were thrown away by a cleaning lady at the Drury Inn) neatly tucked in the least likely place, the retainer case, that is actually in your purse.

 

A.  You are out 100 bucks.

B.  You had to cancel a perfectly good dentist appointment, miss work, and drive thru an ice storm to get said retainers made.

or

C.  You are just a complete and TOTAL idiot.

 

Oh the horror.
 

Take a Vote

If you leave your retainers in your hotel room on a paper plate on your unmade bed, and the housekeeper throws them away... who should be held responsible for replacing them?

 

A.  You are an Idiot.  Cough up the dough.

B.  You are entitled to some sort of re-imbursement.

 

OR

 

C.   Other (Please specify).

 

BTW, "You" is "me'. 

 

 

Murl's Anatomy

Hello all. For those of you I haven't spoken with in awhile... I took a mini-unscheduled vacation. To the hospital.

Last tuesday I had the stomach flu. I was becoming a pretty good shot, vomiting into the tub while sitting on the toilet, when I decided I needed some help. So my CLIENT came back to my hotel and took me to the ER. Where I was given some fluids and some nausea meds that WIPED me out. So my mom and my Monty drove out to Terre Haute to take me home. Before they arrived I was given fluids so they could get a urine sample. I had been too dehydrated before to give one, so they had to wait a little while. I finally had stopped, ahem, ejecting things, long enough to fall into a drug-induced coma. But apparantly I was getting too comfortable. A bald, giant, earring clad nurse bursts in, wakes me from a good REM sleep flips the light on and demands a sample. I wasn't moving fast enough for him yet, so he unhooks my fluid bag, throws it on the bed and wheels me out the door to the bathroom...which was less than 5 feet from my room. It was so disturbing, like coming out of the womb must have felt. I was cold, disorented, nauseous and surrounded by people in scrubs. He really wanted this sample.. maybe for himself.. maybe he was trying to play football and needed a clean one? Who knows. I asked him if I could have a pink tray before I left the bed.. and he said "What? Oh sure, but.. we refer to those as 'pukin-buckets'!"

Lovely.

I finally was discharged and rode home. The next day and a half I spent in a coma and the world just passed by without me. I didn't answer any e-mail or go to work so I ended up with six impromptu days off, and it was wonderful and tomorrow it will be horrible, but for now, for a few more hours it is still wonderful.

Thanksgiving turned into a mini-vacation and I got to visit a ton of folks. Closest to my heart being my good friend Coralea and her baby boys who I hadn't seen in YEARS. But the oldest son remembered me and both boys were so adorable and loving. Most kids I'm around are shy and not so quick to warm up to strangers, but these two didn't have that problem, I think it is an environmental thing. Check out these cuties!

Shards of Skull... the name of my new cover band...if I had a cover band...

Many tings.
My roomate Katie's weddin. Much belated post on the week-ago event... but Indiana happens.


Anywho. Great time. Ended up being a mini-DR reunion special.. Tons of old familiar wonderful faces.. speaking of faces.. This was my super-slick trick on Markus and JRo...


So super... so slick...so unnoticed.. so captured for-ever on film...




Willie!'s attempt at revenge didn't fare so well, totally knew he was there, and captured the pit stain for-ever on film.... :)


In other Katie and Patrick wedding related news... I "hosted" a part of the wedding party at my place, which would have been fantastic... except I picked that weekend to have my sewer pipes replaced in the front yard. In a deft flash of brilliance and planning skill, I had a bobcat and several savory characters in my front yard, a giant truck blocking my drive, seven women in the house and a pile of poo in my basement.

Got that cabled out after the fact and find to my horror, that the bobcat and his band of merry men did not unclog my clot, didn't straighten my sewer... didn't really help my problem. My problem may be under the house, where no man can go...

So stay tuned for the continuing saga of my money pit. I'm sure it will be blog-worthy.

Thankfully, Tim helped me clean up before when went and saw The Departed.. which by far gets my vote as best use of skull shards in a dramatic action film. Loved Leo in that one.. Hate Leo in everything else..

This week I blew a tire on the rented Jeep Liberty.

Good thing I had some good ole' boys there to help me change the tire.. It was a cold, rainy, bone-chilling, frosty windy, not warm 'Cheeseburgers in Paradise' parking lot in lovely urban-sprawling Terre Haute.

Of note.. the good old boy number one asks me where my jack is on the jeep.. since it's not mine, I do not know offhand. They take off on a 21 point inpection of the vehicle to locate said jack.

I look in the manual...The other female in the car says sarcastically under her breath... "Now Lindsey, why would you look in the manual?" I am the first jill to the jack.

O-E-yes!

Warning... Enginerd humor. Safe to say the whole room was crakin up when maybe the dearest little Indian Man on earth dropped the following bombs-o-funny. .

Structural Engineer: "We should put a note that says... Don't drill through beams...seems obvious, but I think it needs to be said."
Structural Engineer, disdainfully, on what scale to draw certain section in: "3/32 is a bastard scale".
Structural Engineer on which floors to pour: "Do the second first and then the first second."

Love that guy.

V Mars slips in the Murl ratings..

Before: After:

Yes.. Jim, Mark, basically I'm dissappointed with VMars after her big change to the CW. They took the best TV detective/comedy/drama and made it the O.C! The show started out with Veronica being a junior in high school with a big story line, great deeply developed characters.. from the gold-hearted motorcycle gang leader, to the confused sarcastic lovable bad boy, to the bumbling simple minded local sheriff who you love to hate, and taken it and scrubbed it of all it's unique-ness and turned it into a typical college drama. Shouldn't the writers have known from the examples of 90210 and Saved by the Bell, that you CAN'T transition a high school drama into a college one effectively... heck.. you can't even do it in real life. This season of VMars has turned Veronica into a jealous "girly-girl", had dropped or ignored HUGE plot lines (maybe because actors didn't return for this season.. but we are just left hanging on major parts of the story..like where is Duncan? Where is her mom? There is no emphasis on the relationship between her and Wallace.. (which is one of the best story lines, and relationships they had going). Ugh.. and NOW her Dad (who also constitutes one of the best Father-daughter acts of all time) is having an affair with a married woman. BOOOO, I say.. HISS BOO. Another example to follow many others of a show that had GREAT potential and was so different, turned into every other pop show on TV.

Yeah. I was scared to admit it.. but I'm not happy. I will say the first two seasons are some of the best work I've seen on TV, and this third season leaves me with an "eh" feeling.

Don't get me wrong.. it's still a good show.. it just used to be a great show.

And it make me sad.

Bold, Scandalous Hope

Ok. So I think I've had a revelation. Not one that I haven't had before... but somehow it seems to have more stick power, and less emotion driven as previous "yay-God-type" revelations. Ever since my bff Angela mentioned the lack of a "Bold Hope" driving back from Greenville, the ring of that phrase hasn't left my brain. There are so many reasons to be cynical. Countless reasons. It is absolutely justifiable to be hard, and cold and self-protective and to look out for number one. It really makes a lot of sense. Good advice from the 'wiser' older to the younger. Watch out for you, because no one else will. My spirit is crushed daily with the weight of this world, I stood at the polls today wanting to kick the booth over with angst for the lack of real solutions, I see the droves of homeless around Monty's loft and I want to get a bull horn and chant "GET A JOB" out the side of the car, but I also want to make them sandwiches, but I don't want them to mug me. (How awful am I?), I want to take the fowl mouthed people who yell at each other on the reality shows and I want to force them to watch video of themselves while tied to a chair, but I keep watching them while not tied to anything. I want all politicians put in a boxing ring in sumo suits with built in tasers and let them fight to the death. I want fat people to be thin, I want emaciated people to eat, I want the sick to be healed and I want wrong to be RIGHT. But how? It's overwhelming to the perfectionist in me that says ALL or NOTHING. But there is one BIG giant reason to be hopeful. And that reason is that God is at work. And the God of scripture DOES have power and has purpose and is all that is good and light in the world. It is all things worth forwarding in an e-mail that warm your heart, it's all things that are so beautiful, that stand out against the stark white cold hardness of the world we live in. They are often very small things. The diary of Anne Frank was a very small thing. Very small words from a little teenaged girl, in the midst of a hurricane of hate and tragedy. Those whispered words spoke much louder and lasted much longer than the Hilters did. The trials of Martin Luther King Jr. who was up against violence and hate whose voice now rings out victoriously in a world that more and more (I feel) sees people being judged by the content of their character. In a backyard example...I see men like Monty. He may be unpolished on the surface..the things he says make me cringe sometimes, he may have scary tattos, but his heart is one that is beautiful. He loves people who can't love him back. He loves people who have hurt him.. loves them radically, even monitarily and wouldn't imagine playing it any other way. He cares for people whose lives are messy, and he gets into the mess for them. He loves freely and often and doesn't count costs before deciding to love. He isn't ruled by fear. Period. He isn't concerned with appearances, says what he thinks and isn't afraid to be wrong. He feels things and isn't afraid to feel what he's feeling, fully and completely. Isn't afraid to chase after a girl who dumped him. Is isn't afraid of anything really..except God. Mmkey that was a mush-fest-over...sorry. With all of the examples I could give of the merits of hoping, of trying. I still I see people, including myself, plugging into a world that wont heal. It refuses medicine, it refuses love, it refuses to drink, it refuses to breathe. I get too smart for myself sometimes because i don't "see" God working. Or it seems better and smarter to play the odds that things are going to turn out badly, that people are going to hurt you and that life is going to dissappoint you terribly if you start getting this "hoping" notion into your head. Can we rise up? We are engaged in an epic battle (oh geez John Eldridge...) and it is a grand shame that i forget it so often, because I'm surrounded by smart people who don't believe. People I admire for their brains and talent, who can't see what I can see. And it, honestly, makes me feel a bit stupid. It makes the little girl in me stick her chin out and fold her arms and choke back hot angry tears. B-but he IS real. Why wont you see? Oh ok, to maintain the 'coolness' factor, I'll take my God down a notch. I'll what? Am I serious? I can do no such thing. May God not smite me. I can't because it isn't true. It shames me to say that these are my thoughts. I pound the nails in further. My revelation is this. It's ok to hope. It's the better deal. And I'm going to...damn it. Don't care who thinks I'm a Pollyanna. I don't care. I have reason for hope. I mean the Cardinals won a freakin' World Series this year... ANYTHING is possible... ;)

True Story.

My brothers hilariously inappropriate friend, Steve, sent Dusty this video he took on his phone.

This is in a long drive comptetition. Note this particular contestant's lack of shirt, shoes and the presence of the HOUSE ARREST anklet.

Oh yeah.

Riddle Me This..

How do you find exactly THREE white castle burger boxes in the abandoned fish tank in the backyard? One, maybe... I could see it accidentally getting blown in there from God knows where... but THREE? I'm thinking deliberate deposit of the crave cases into said water-laden fish tank. Oh yes.. someone..some late-night good-timer PURPOSELY used the abandoned fish tank in the backyard as their own personal trash-can... and WHY are they wandering out in my backyard??

I'm setting up cameras...
Crochety. party of one.

Go Crazy Folks!

Yeah Birds!

I DIDN'T JINX HIM!!

http://www.longdrivers.com/news/remax/102606.html

Un-believable, considering he didn't get out of round one last year...

I was trying to get to Vegas this weekend to see it myself.. but no tickets cheaper than donating my left kidney.

Probably just as well..

Keep your fingers crossed for my bro!!

Not to Jinx....

Saying "not to jinx" ensures no jinxing..

And I'm not superstitious anyway...

So I don't mind telling you that Dusty is in round 6 of 9 in the Remax World Long Drive Championship.

Boo-to-the-yah...

He knocked out the previous world champ...

How cool?

Too Long.

Who knew that Boston's Pizza had a wireless connection? Who knew that there was such a place as Boston's Pizza?

Long time no blog.

Life on the road has obstructed my ability to blog as of late.. and I’ve had some crummy internet connections in my hotels as of late as well. And lets just be honest… I’m spending some serious time being smitten with a certain someone. It’s a very good thing.

Only… I feel as if I’ve left a club of sorts.. I feel as if I finally don’t get to be the one who knows what it feels like to be single. I hate that feeling. I hate knowing that people most dear to me now put me in a “them” category. Ugh. The sheer “Ugh”. Does it not count that I’d been exactly there for ten years previous?

I want to be like the Cary Murphy’s of the world. Cary Murphy, who last year, at her New Year’s Rockin’ Eve party noted I was one of the only people there without significant other to smooch and walked up to me and planted one fat on my cheek. She had no idea at the time how much that meant to me. As if she were almost saying… you know it’s great… and all, but not worth the heartache you make it… you don’t have to “be” anyone to be here with us… it was sweet.

That said, I’ve had some very good teachers on how to be a good fighter, a good receiver, and a good woman, so it’s nice to put those into practice in an actual, real-live relationship. He’s great. But he’s still just a guy.

He’s still not Jesus and will never be.

That said, I have a large text message bill.

In other news, I have elevated my golf game. Wow I shot an highly questionable 85 the other day. On the back 9 I shot at 39. That is absurd for me. It wouldn’t pass USGA scrutiny, but I was hittin the sticks.

Speaking of sticks. Dusty is in Vegas as we speak hitting his sticks, hopefully for some big money. Proud of my bro. He’s da man, the quintessential “Big Deal”.

Cardinals wins remind me of nostalgia of days past. When the Cards won the series in ’82 (saying “in ‘82” makes me sound like a sports bad-ass, yes?) Getting to see my dad jump straight up out of his lazy boy and clap his hands over his head and almost TOUCH THE CEILING made my three year old self much impressed. I mean… the CEILING was far far away to me then. When did world series tickets get to be like buying a small business? I went to the series in 2004 with my Dad on standing room only tickets and they weren’t quite so absurdly expensive. I dunno what happened there. But looks like I’ll be watchin’ from the couch this time.

Speaking of Tickets.. if anyone knows anyway to get USC vs. Notre Dame tickets and can assist me in getting said tickets.. I’ll… I’ll…. Be your best friend. Yeah.. move over Joaquin Phoenix.. the position will be filled.

I hit a possum on the way to Terre Haute this time. That makes my wildlife bloodletting streak go up by 50% in the last two months. I got a squirrel earlier this fall.

Someone told me that if the department responsible for clearing road kill ever went on strike we’d be knee deep in otter brains before Christmas.

Someone else who was not a native St. Louisan or a Cardinal fan told me that if the Arch fell over and crushed the stadium tomorrow, he wouldn’t bat an eye. Heh.

Does anybody remember the Carol Burnette Show?? Wow. I caught a glimpse of an infomercial peddling her collectors edition DVD’s for her show and I was just reminded of how funny that lady really is. Great gams too.

I’m going to buy them, or request them for Christmas or something. The DVD’s not the gams.

I became a statistic for the second time by running over my upper retainer with the lawn mower. Curse that Orthodontist for telling me that his adult patients NEVER lose their retainers.

Reaching way back in blog-history I would be CRAZY not to mention the TOOTH BIKE, Boneless Arm Roast Anniversary special, and horse-drawn carriages build from cornstalks. Thus IS Greenville Illi-noise.

Boo to the Yah.

The crazy hippy pirate praise band the Psalters were there. And they were fantastic. I danced. I danced with the wild abandon of someone who didn’t care who was watching.. I used to never care who was watching. Something changed. Not sure when, but regardless… I danced. In my bare feet in a carpeted almost “garage” in the middle of nowhere… where they had no tickets to purchase, and homemade snacks at the door. Oh memories of college. When shirts were flannel, and things were simpler, only we thought they were much more complicated. Hooray for being the oldest people in the room. Hooray for my two dear friends who make me laugh so hard and who have bacon wallets. YES BACON WALLETS. Oh man.

Stick that in yer bacon wallet and fry it.

Oh Thank Goodness

For the little church volleyball league I find myself playing in.

We play in a gym in a church, the gym behind the kitchen. It's carpeted. We pray before we play and large tattooed men in muscle shirts who love Jesus tell us about the ministry of the church and then we bang balls around in the name of Jesus.

It's even the marooney color of my church that I grew up playing basketball in. Felt weirdly good. Like I can't believe I forgot that this happens around the midwest, I can't believe I forgot. I'm so glad it still happens. After the too-cool-for-school days at washu, the snobby anti small town place for your mind to 'expand', I'm so glad we got to play with Josh, the mentally handicapped sixth man on the other team who never ever stopped smilling the entire time.

The small towners got it right.

On completely different note, I find it ODD that we cant end sentences with prepositions... sometimes there just isn't a better way to say it. Anybody with me? It seems completely arbitrary.

The Apple Picker

He says:
"That's great news".
"I called Adelaide today".

"Lives of Service".

Things are "Stupid Good".

I say things are stupid good.

Greetings from The Haute.

Many things have happened since we last posted.

I turned a year older. Twenty seven is delicious so far. Heard it described most perfectly by a sara of mine, "Old enough to be making decent money, and still young enough to not have old people responsibilities." Yeah, I'm down.

I now have a beaux. I'm not going to put much info up here about him. He's in the public eye (well, ear, rather) enough. But he's great, and great for me, and I'm very excited about this developement.

I have started week number in Terre Haute in 'Lindsey-style'. Hows that? By leaving the lights in my rental car on all night, requiring a member of the Hampton Inn housekeeping staff to jump my Ford Taurus. I was a half hour late to my first day of training, but that got worked out. I didn't miss anything and I now have a badge on a stringy bungee thing that I pull out and let snap back to my hip.

It's fantastic.

I have also already snagged a spot on a volleyball team for Monday nights in Terre Haute. Which is also fantastic.

On the way home I definitely drove by a semi-sized caged truck that was chock full of live chickens, not terribly unlike this one:


Only in Indiana.

Branson, Busch Stadium. Whatever.

"I got Shoji Tabuchi's Autograph!"













Who?

"Uhm...I mean So Taguchi's autograph.. "







Love, Love, Love you, Mom!.

Moving to "High Ground".

That is "Terre Haute"

Looks like I'm getting shipped off. I'll be living in Terre Haute, Indiana for the next 6 months of my life. I get to come home on weekends, no worries, the Lou will not be Murl-free ALL week long.

I'm actually rather excited about it. (Ask me in a few months what I think..). I'm mostly glad because life seems like it will slow down a bit. I get to focus back on one job and to take some evenings to rest more. I am welcoming that.

Not welcoming missing my volleyball night, or my small group night, but I'll survive, I suppose.

I'm still pretty tired. Was in Terre Haute, on Monday (there and back) then on Tuesday flew to KC, stayed up too late working, then got up way too early and sat through a 10-hour meeting.

In a word I'm nauseous-tired.

Had to give a presentation today infront of a lot of people that should have made me quite nervous. It went pretty well, and people actually stopped checking their e-mail when i was presenting. That was nice.

So there is a light at the end of this busy-tunnel, and good times, in a place where someone makes my bed for me everyday, which means my bed will actually get made everyday. This is something that I'm actually ready for.

"At this point in my life" Says Tracy Chapman.

Insert Clever Title Here

Crazyness. Life is a little nutty right now.

I can't begin to tell you how crunched I am at work. (Lindsey you always say that) NO it's TRUE. Too busy. Even my boss says so.

I'm frustrated in general. There is no curing it. I AM type A, Marc, you were right.

I get to this place where there are so many things to do that I cannot decide which priority is the most important. So I, a lot of times, just go limp and start cleaning my desk just so I feel like I've done something of value.

I am even too tired to try to put something on here that is worth reading.

Folks, I'm zapped, a little discouraged, a little sick, and am just not going to make any apology for it.

This is me right now.
With all the gusto of a bowl of oatmeal,

Linz

BLIMEY!

Oh sad day! Everyone's favorite man in khaki shorts died today at the prong of a giant stingray. In reverance I say of Steve Irwin: He was a beauty.