Early Lang Syne

This year comes to a close. Soon it will be my first blog-iversary. We've laughed we've cried, we've been anonymously spammed. It's been a good year. I've needed this outlet very much.

I picture December as an old tired man, limping wearily along the calendar, taunting the children about the promise of Christmas break, and dragging down the rest of us with his lack of innocence and the cold brittle temperatures of his bones. He goes to sleep earlier and earlier everyday, depriving us of Vitamin D, and sending us into a reflective, depressive wintery state. He's had a full life, twelve months of joy and of sorrow. But Twenty Oh Five is tired and wants to call it quits. We all feel it.

Hang in there everybody, you only get one crack at the rest of December, Twenty Oh Five. And the '06 baby, while virginal and pure, he too, is just another old man in the making. Don't let this '05 old man get crotchity on you.

Or as I would say to Willie! Corchity.

Thinking about Thanks

I know it's well past T-givin. But I got to thinking about saying Grace before meals. Actually, I just got to thinking about the train made of cans. And I was just thinking about how much work got put into that silly thing. And how honestly glad I am that people got food. People who maybe wouldn't have gotten some that day if the train hadn't come together like it did. If we had dropped out, 2000 cans of pork and beans would still be sitting in a Schnucks warehouse somewhere. I wondered if those peeps were thankful (you know for all 'my' hard work). Bleck. Then in a millisecond, as light often comes, I was repulsed by the thought. I thought of how few times I bend my head, or still my heart to thank God for the meals I eat. I mean sure my paycheck feels like I earn it and buy things with it out of my very own strength, but when thirteen hurricanes hit the US, try to use that paycheck to buy a good tomato? Yeah good luck with that. It is an illusion, how independent we think we are of the good grace of God. I mean have you savored the little cherry tomatoes that you can get at Sams? Oh my word! They are like candy. Little oblong spheres of joy. I eat them by the handful, in a salad, or just, yeah by the handful. It's too good for words. In a season, a whole crop is gone. Or, in the blink of an eye, gas is 5 dollars an ounce. In an instant, the 401K you spent your whole life pouring into, gets shot to smithereens. For what? Investing in the security that you thought you had. Failing to praise the maker for what you had while you had it.

I say that not to sound self-righteous. I realize that I can get preachy sometimes, but know that I'm only speaking to myself in this venue. I do not trust Him a good deal of the time, and I certainly don't thank Him. Like the women at the shelter the other night, when the lasangna took a half hour more to cook, thereby postponing their regularly scheduled dinner. From some it was taps on the counter. "What is going on here?" "When will it be ready?" "What's the hold up?" We got untrusting prideful stares from women who had been out in the cold all day long, starving. Some where so hard, and indignant toward the good-intentioned hands that wanted to feed them. But some ladies were sweet. "Oh boy that food sure does look good over there...y'all are gooood cooks! Thank you so much." So weird to see such an obvious example of how God must see us as he tries to bless us. So crushing. I am so demanding, so impatient, yet I feel so entitled sometimes.

I laugh as I picture myself tapping on God's counter going.. "Isn't he ready yet?" "Where is my husband?" "Everyone else has eaten already" God (who I picture as Luke from Gilmore Girls in this analogy) says "We'll he's still frozen, and your still prideful, indignant and hard. Trust me, you don't want him now. You'll get salmonella. I am the cook here. You gonna trust me? Are you? And don't use cell phones in my diner!"

"Umm yeah. I guess. Those tomatoes you made....those are looking pretty good over there... Lordy, you are a good slow cook, a giant spiritual Crock Pot."

Rains, Pours Yadda Yadda Yadda.....

Just when you think you have your spiritual life sort of in a place where it is going to stay for awhile, your practical life (for lack of a better word) goes to pot.
Number one, my sewer backed up on me. Pipes are supposed to slope to the street. Mine don't.
Number two, my garage door opener gears are stripped.
Number three, my furnace sounds like an old man.
Number four, I need my oil changed and literally haven't had time to get it done in the last three weeks.
Number Five, My check engine light is on, washer fluid is filled, and my headlight is out. (I count those all as one, I suppose).
Number six, I stuck a can of diet cherry coke in my purse this morning on my way out the door to church. I forgot about it, and came back to the house and set it on my bed. It sprung a leak, soaked my densely-written-in-purple-ink 'to do' list, stained my bedspread purple and ruined my phone.
Number Seven, I can't wash my bedspread or any of my monster mountain of clothes because my washing machine is broken. Thats makes two broken washers in the last year.
(And my roomie gets to add a minor car accident to her list of annoyances, as the house related ones affect her too.)

So to recap....
I can't wash anything, call anyone, drive anywhere, park in my garage, or spend any money because I haven't got the roto-rooter bill yet. I don't even know where to start.

In spite of all this, I'm in very good spirits, as I said, I am spiritually feeling pretty good. Presents are all wrapped, baking is done. Work is good. Listened to a ton of Beth Moore this week, got my shipment of her cd's in the mail, and they are as ever, so great! I had the pleasure of dinner and a chick flick (Pride and Predjudice) with a very good friend of mine Friday night. It was the perfect girl nite. Very encouraging discussion, and good times.

I'm also in good spirits because I got to work at the Grace and Peace women's homeless shelter last nite, and it was very humbling. I feel so overwhelmed sometimes with the amount of hard stories there are. I have a roof over my head, a family that loves me, a great job and food on my table. Life is ridiculously good. The trick is deciding that it would still be ridiculously good even if I didn't have those things. Jesus said "I am the bread" and in Him we have life and breath and our being, the rest of it, Maximus, is shadows and dust. Concretely, I'm not sure how that works, but in my spirit, I know it is true, because there are times when I have indeed had everything, and it wasn't enough. So it stands to reason that if all I had was Jesus and nothing else, that it would somehow, inexplicably, be enough.

In the meantime. I'm not ignoring your calls. Thank God the internet still works.

Sometimes Beth Says it Best

"I can say without stuttering that in my 45 years of living I have NEVER had a man be as mean to me as women have been...

Now I've had them be stupid, Amen?"

30 days

I have Buddy from Charles in Charge to thank for my ineptitude in remembering the rhyme for the months.

In one episode, Buddy screws something up thinking that there are only 30 days in August, and proves it by matter of factly reciting the following:

30 Days hath September, April, August and November....

As a result, that rhyme does not work for me. For I have to sit and think which month then replaces August. It's quite a dilemma. I like a good mnemonic device, but damn it Buddy you've ruined me.

How we spend our days...

Is in essence, how we spend our days.

So how have I spent my days? Sometimes I censor details in the interest of being interesting. Most of the time even when I do that I'm not very interesting NO it's TRUE. Smiling to myself as I recall many a blather recorded on this webarena that has the appeal of a piece of dryer lint.

More lint you say? Ok then...just for you.

Anyway. I'm in a small group now at church. I've been terrified of vulnerable community as of late, but this is going rather well. Doing life with folks IS a good thing. Don't kid yourself. We need people. No man is an island.

Also starting to hang out with kiddos in sunday school which we don't want to call sunday school but have yet to give it a better name. I like kids. I used to think the junior high ones were from a different scary planet (I thought that even when I was one) but I do like them, and they are very cool. Maybe I'll have some after all. Excited about investing in them more.

Work has been going very well, it's the perfect mixture at the moment of interesting, challenging, monotonous work and I love being there. I really do. How many people can honestly say THAT? I leave for Syracuse on Thursday of this week, and if any of you are in the greater Syracuse area, my colleague is meeting our client for dinner... I guess I am too. That made no sense.

Volleyball double header tomorrow nite. How I love volleyball. Insert gushies here about the heart leaps and soul smiles that come with a double header championship game.

Annie! won a thousand bucks on the radio. Sheesh. If it's Williams related, it doesn't even suprise me anymore....

FUNNY. A gal in my small group told the funniest story tonite. She works as some sort of teachers aid (sorry not exactly sure what she does) works with little kids and interacts with some hilarious parents. Isn't there some joke about parenting being one of those things anybody with a pulse is allowed to do, but we require licenses for fishing? If it's not, it should be.
I digress... A parent at her school brought a cake in for her sons birthday. My friend (I'll call her "Cary") says to her "Wow this icing is really good, it's not at all like store bought icing" to which the mom replies: "Oh it isn't just any old store bought cake! It's from Derbers." Cary has never heard of this place, and it equating it with a Straubs, or a whole foods, or something exotic. Shocked that Cary had never heard of Derbergs, they have this giant country club-esque discussion about where Cary shops and why she doesn't know this place. "Schnucks? Pshaw... it's soooooo much nicer than Schnucks. Seriously." Finally, after painful agony, and what seemed like hours, it comes to light that the lady is indeed trying to say DIERBERGS.

Shoo a sista is laughin.

My brother's TV debut came and went, and was awesome. He did well. Fun times. Had all of his buddies over to watch it at home, and they are so funny. He is one of the few people I know who has great relationships with his high school buddies still. It's nice. All my high school friends all moved away. (Understandably so).

I realize I need to talk with my roomate about this incredibly weird conversation we had about Christmas decor. We were talking about whether or not we get a tree this year. I'm thinking automatically "I can't really afford a good artificial one this year". And I totally dismissed the possiblity of putting up an actual tree. I'm a dork. That is totally what we should do. Here I was denying my capitalist pagan roots....

Side note, I had a friend in college who was jewish, who decorated a tree as a part of their traditional... tradition. They called it a Hanukkah bush (sp?). I think that's great.

I also had another friend in college. That made two.

I love tea. Especially green tea. Especially mint green tea. With one sweet and low packet. Oh yes, tasty. I've been to Kayak's twice in the last week after having never been there before. I had a delicious cup with my dear friend Angela, and then tonite stopped in for another before small group. And I have a rant about Washington University. I park in the Kayak lot. That has giant signs that say "retail parking only" I think to myself, 'I'm a retail person! I can park here!" I was in there less than five minutes, and I come out to a lovely yellow pain in my arse of a wupd parking ticket for the expired meter at 7pm. Are you serious? Can WU really commandeer a parking lot? Kayaks is a public establishment, I don' t have to be from WU to go there, and it's not even technically on campus... don't get me started. Wu can't have ANY MORE OF MY MONEY. I threw it away with flair. I hate WUPD. Their little yellow attempts at control....

On the flip side, in the good little piece of paper catergory, I got some coupons to First Watch today. Buy one get one free for any entree. Anyone want to get treated? I can hook you up. Call me we'll do lunch.

I saw a machine on video at work today that has a vision system that picks up catheters from a random loose spaghette-like pile, and using robots, threads them into a shape, and then seals them up in a package, that is way more intersting and unique than it sounds, I promise. Take my nerd-word for it.

All in all. Feeling good about life. Things are rather splendid.

Linty Murl out.

Oh Love that will not let me go.

A story I found, may be an urban legend, it's from a source quoting a source:

It is the story told of a pregnant young woman who prematurely gave birth to her first child. The doctors quickly observed major problems. After many surgeries and procedures, the couple rejoiced at their child’s restoration. In the last procedure, the oxygen tube was mistakenly disconnected for several minutes and the baby’s brain was deprived of oxygen, leaving her blind and unable to hear, speak, or walk. After hearing the news, the couple’s pastor rushed to the hospital to find the young mother holding her baby, singing to her. He said, “I am here but I don’t know what to say.” And the mother replied, “It’s okay. We are doing fine.” Caught off guard, the pastor asked how this could be in the midst of such pain. She said, “I have been thinking of a scene which has given me comfort. I picture a huge stadium with thousands of people and a platform in the middle. I see God on the platform holding this baby girl and saying ‘Who will take this one? She will never walk, never see, and never speak. She will never be able to return love to anyone. She will cost you everything you have and you will get very little in return. Who will take this baby?’ I see myself standing up in the back row and coming forward saying ‘I will take her. I will make her mine.’” The amazed pastor asked how she could have such peace. The woman said, “In my mind I think of the same stadium with thousands of people and the same platform. This time God stands on the platform holding my hand and saying ‘Who will take this woman? She is rude, arrogant, selfish, greedy, worldly and self-absorbed. She is ungrateful for all she has and will never love as she ought.’ About this time I see Jesus stand on the back row and move forward, saying, ‘I will take her. I will make her mine.’”

O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

(Sing that last part with a kitchy oompa-loompa beat. Rinse. Repeat)

Homestar Dusty is an Exceptional Televised Athlete

Whoops, I got the first time wrong, see correction in red for Sunday!
He won 5th place recently at the Pinnacle "Exceptional Driving" competition in Laughlin, Nevada. (And no that's not "wow you have no wrecks AND no parking tickets") That's Golf. Where not necessarly longest ball, but longest, most accurate ball wins. And Dusty got 5th out of 128 other amateur long drivers. Which gives him pro status, puts some cash in his pocket, and gets his mug on TV.
November 25 @3:30 - 4:30 PM on ESPN2.
November 27 @ 1:30 - 2:30 PM (CST) on ESPN.

And I'm his sister. Which makes ME cool.

Right?

Guys?

Hey wait up...

It's that time again....

That's right. At long last. This blogs humble beginnings chronicled many points of the 2004-05 Washington University Women's basketball season. I know that no one else cares about this.

But that is why this is my blog. I can put whatever I want on here. If Mark Williams can blog only monthly and put pictures of giant octoblerones on his, then I can certainly plug the red and green.

Enough apologies.

This weekend, the gals opened up the '05-'06 season in typical fashion, two games, two wins. They have some freshmen that need to learn the system still, and overall they looked pretty weak on D, but that will come. Anytime you beat DePauw by more than ten, you are doing alright. Wash U also beat the former national champions, Milikin, (who are still ranked number one in most polls) in a scrimmage a few weeks ago. So they are showing great promise.

This picture I posted is one of my favorites in print from my era. It's my classmate Tasha Rodgers, arguably the best athlete to come through the program, and my assistant coach, the giant teddy bear that is Coach Cochran, or as we affectionately referred to him "BC". They are celebrating after our second National Championship, Tasha had 23 points.

I, on the other hand, had a turnover that made the other teams highlight video. It was played over and over again during the broadcast of the tournament selection show the next year with the whole team and all our families in attendance. (They still gave me a ring).

Good times ;)

Yeah Bears.

Eaten Alive by Wolverines or the Garage.

I stole this from the blog of Scott Adams the Dilbert guy. This imagery made me laugh out loud.

"Today I am whacked out on pain killers because yesterday I had surgery to correct my deviated septum. I didn’t ask a lot of questions about the procedure but I can deduce most of the details based on the way I feel today. Apparently doctors shove a starving wolverine into one nostril, where it scratches and eats until it hits brain. Then they pull him out by his tail. Nurses stop the bleeding by packing each nostril with a queen size mattress that is carefully wrapped around a wino."

Not much else to report.

But I was held hostage by my garage door today. It got off kilter in the tracks somehow. And it did, like a rat looking for a cheeto in a maze, take me a few minutes to get out. It was really cold, and it was morning. You know I rarely have anything brilliant going on upstairs before noon anyway, and couple that with my poor circulation and lower than normal body temperature..It must have been how cavemen felt. So after tapping the door three times with my car, it sprung open and a genie popped out.

Several times I almost thought it was going to be a real issue, like "I have to call into work, I"m going to be stuck in my garage forever." until the inner voice of calm that is Murl says "This is a garage. You are not trapped without food or water in an elevator or something even relatively small. And the side door still works. The people-sized one."

I could explain my attempts at getting out of this contraption, but it would be snoozerific. So I will spare you. Lets just say I learned a lot about my garage door. And about how you can't prop it up with a garden rake. And how I'm glad there weren't small dogs or children around when I tried to prop it up with a garden rake.

Funniest part may be when I eventually did get out of the garage, out of habit I hit the button and it closed. I backed out of the driveway and by the time i reached the street (read BIG time delay) I finally noticed that it had worked.

I was cold.

Change and Closure

So I had lunch with my old arch nemesis today. Some of you heard me talk about her and our struggle to coexist peacefully at our office back in the day when our noses sat thirty-five inches away from each other in the tiny office we used to share. We were both proud and stubborn, and so wanting to "fix" the other one in "christian love" that we beat ourselves senseless.

We sat in that room together for almost a year. Polishing. Annoying. Irritating. Ignoring. Sometimes crying. It was awful. A terribly painful and long experience for me and I know for her as well.

I am not a morning person. She actually tried to talk to me before noon. She is a minute detail person. I am a big-picture dynamics person. She stuck her neck out. I buried mine in the sand. She had this sinus thing that drove me crazy, said "Rum" instead of "Room"and well, I'm sure I did somethin.

But we both call ourselves Christians. This means we tried. We really tried to submit and to yield and to give in and give up and let the other one have the honor, only something would always stir our competitive spirits toward one another. We tried and prayed together and shared and stuggled to see eye to eye.

To summarize. Girls are just crazy. Especially girls who feel they still have worth to prove.

We eventually moved out of the same office before I stapled my earlobes shut. She eventually followed God's calling to plant a church out in Seattle near her in-laws. I jokingly told people God took her to Seattle for me. I was kinda relieved, to be honest. Maybe overjoyed was the word. I loved her. I really did. But I didn't like her very much. Now, still working for our company, she flys into the office to do work sometimes. The first time I saw her I didn't know how I would react. We were not friends. We were more than that. It's so weird.

So we kept saying that we needed to get together and catch up when she was in town. Usually when we got together it was one of two things. Her condescending on me. Me feeling my usually-dormant national champion competitive spirit rise up, or worse, us gossiping about anyone and everyone we could in the office. You know, in that crappy way that Christians sometimes do...

Today's lunch started out like any other. We were discussing some drama and what the cures are and why everyone is so negative all the time. Getting rather personal in some instances. And we ordered food at Bread Co and I felt the Spirit say gently "Linz, don't do this. Don't let her do this either she doesn't want that." I, ignored it, and started back in when she sat down, but she interrupted me mid-slander and called herself out and said, "Hey that was kinda gossipy wasn't it? I probably shared too much there. I'm sorry."

What? Who are you and what did you do with my arch nemesis? I'd never heard her call herself out before on that stuff. Especially when it was so heavily me too. It was awesome. I agreed and told her I had been thinking the same thing. We went on to have the best, most refreshing discussion about what God is doing in her life, and her marriage, and her heart. I told her about my new found grace (like cornflakes? "Taste it again, for the first time"). In her, I saw a woman maturing, still struggling to forget her old names, but one who was at PEACE. I used to think she put on this earth soley to get on my nerves. But now, I saw her as Beautiful. It was amazing. God gave me eyes. And I hope she saw what I now am... a person who is so consumed presently with believing who she is in Christ that no longer feels the need to compete and to strive to be liked or respected by her or anyone else.

We talked about the other doors she was closing in St. Louis and how it was timely, because she wasn't really going to be around the office in the forseable future, and maybe never again. It was like God came to lunch with us and said, "Hello Poppets. Not a single second of that time I made you spend together was in vain. Nor will any second anywhere else be wasted, because you are mine. "

Like a real live episode of 'Father Knows Best'.

Anyway. She also spoke of some things in her life that gave me thrills of joy to hear, and I told her how I was falling in love with Jesus again. I never thought we would ever be here. I never thought that she would change or that I would let her.

I'm not sure who bent more. I used to care who got that credit. But now I realize, that since we met in a mid-point at all, it means that it doesn' t really matter who bent more, because we got there. Got to this sparsely-inhabited land called "Unity". The credit really isn't ours to claim anyway.

God, in his mercy, ties up every loose end. Bottles every tear, only gives you what you can handle and will force you into situations that make NO worldly sense, that are strictly for Kingdom gain. I don't know how this story will glorify God really , because no one really knows it, but I pray it serves as a reminder of how intricately and SLOWLY he sometimes sanctifies us. This is over the course of 4 years, which in reality, is light speed, but I'm overjoyed at the moment. For the balm that God is pouring on my ripped and wounded places, for removal of old thorns in my side, and for his mysterious weave of 'coincidences' to glorify himself and bless the crap out of me. For freedom to love without condition.

I have tasted. The Lord is good. Hope that doesn't smack of Christian-ese. I'd rip out my heart and take a picture of it, if it could help you see what drives the words.

I THOUGHT I could!!!

We won a blue ribbon!! Well kids, the train that we built out of 2000+ cans of tuna, pork and beans, and pineapple is a winner. It got judged today at the St. Louis Mills mall, and won "Best Use of Labels". If you are in the area and want to see it, it's by the glow in the dark putt-putt place. There is still an award at large for Peoples Choice, so if you are there between now and November 17th, drop a vote for this little guy.
Chinese Dragon won jurors favorite which is sort of equivalent to "best in show". So the way i figure it, we got second ;). Hooray!
Here are some others that were there:
Chinese Dragon

Oscar the Grouch













Rosie the Riveter

Hungry Hungry Hippo:

Joy.

Yeah that's it.

Joy.

Oh yeah, and don't see Jarhead... unless you were a marine. Then see it and let me know if it's real. And if it's real...

Gross.

Call My Name.

The Neverending Story is my all time favorite movie. It was the first movie that I cried for joy in. You know at the end when Atreyu is riding through the field on Artax, and the music is playing. Man I just started blubbering and couldn't stop. I'm like 4. "Mom why am I crying and not sad?"

It stayed with me. Another quote that stayed with me throughout my life is this one:

Engywook: Next is the Magic Mirror Gate. Atreyu will have to look his true self in the face.

Falcor: So? That shouldn't be so hard.

Engywook: Oh, that's what everyone thinks! But kind people find out that they are cruel. Brave men find out that they are really cowards! Confronted by their true selves, most men run away, screaming!

The existance of the whole world of Fantasia hinged on whether or not this Empress got a new name.

Childlike Empress: "Born of the Word, the children of man, Or humans as they're sometimes called, Have had the gift of giving names. Ever since our worlds
began."

This flick is full of spirtual parallels. I thought of this the other night when Mike was speaking at Damascus Road. He talked about a very odd exchange in the Bible when Jacob was wrestling with God. I never really understood it until I looked, really looked (or, rather, Mike looked) at what was being said:

27 The man asked him, "What is your name?"
"Jacob," he answered.
28 Then the man said, "Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome."

What is the deal? How cryptic! The key is what the name Jacob means. It means "he who deceives". I was reading this back story on a recent trip and I could NOT for the life of me figure out what was going on. Jacob and Esau. Fighting inside the womb.

Esau is an idiot. He sells his birthright to second born Jacob for a bowl of stew. But then Jacob steals his fathers blessing by dressing up like a goat to trick his blind father into thinking that he is the hairy red headed brother Esau. It's like a hebrew soap opera. But then Jacob in the end gets the blessing from God and from his father and all the marbles. Why? He cheated! It's not fair.

That's right. It's not.

That, I think, is the point. Jacob says "I will not let you go until you bless me". God says "What is your name?" And Jacob, exhausted from the fight, ashamed and beaten says "'The one who deceives'. That's my name. That's who I am."

But God says no. He says. "Your name will no longer be that, it will be "Israel" because you have struggled with God and men and overcome. I no longer see you as the deceiver that you were."

A new name. God gives us a new name after he beats us. After we cry uncle. We get to shed our old skin. Our old name. And it's beautiful defeat. Our hip is out of socket, and we walk with a limp from now on. But we have a new name. And we must not take it in vain.

But doesn't it drive you crazy? It's totally backwards. God wins. He takes the championship belt and the crown of roses and the robe with his name on it, and walks over to your corner and puts it on your head, and around your waist, and across your shoulders and carries you out to the shouts of the crowd to your astonishment and shock at first, then to your delight.

What is the name I used to have? Slut. Coward. Cheat. Lazy. What is my new name? Beloved. Forgiven. Daughter. Sister. Bride. He tells me again in Hosea. And again in Isaiah. And again in Romans. And again and again and again.

But we have an accuser who seeks to assist us in reminding us of our old names. Much like the thing in the Neverending Story:

G'mork: Fantasia has no boundaries.
Atreyu: That's not true. You're lying.
G'mork: Foolish boy. Don't you know anything about Fantasia? It's the world of human fantasy. Every part, every creature of it, is a piece of the dreams and hopes of mankind. Therefore, it has no boundaries.
Atreyu: But why is Fantasia dying then?
G'mork: Because people have begun to lose their hopes and forget their dreams, so the Nothing grows stronger.
Atreyu: What is the Nothing?
G'mork: It's the emptiness that's left. It's like a despair, destroying this world. And I have been trying to help it.
Atreyu: But why?
G'mork: Because people who have no hopes are easy to control. And whoever has ontrol has... the power!
Atreyu: Who are you really?
G'mork: I am the servant of the power behind the Nothing. I was sent to kill the only one who could have stopped the Nothing. I lost him in the Swamps of Sadness. His ame was Atreyu.

But Atreyu got through the Magic Mirror Gate. And past the Sphinx, whose eyes stay closed, until someone who does not feel his own worth tries to pass by.

Add this movie to my list of stuff I want.

Stuff I want*

I know this is weird, but I've never really had a list this long or expensive before. Thought I'd let you in on this:

1. Gas powered Leaf Blower
2. Digital Camera
3. A cheap fixer for my "HP" ipod.
4. Socks. Fun ones. Big ones.
5. A bathroom in my basement.
6. A volleyball court in my back yard.
7. Not another dish in my kitchen
8. The West Wing season 5!!!!!
9. Square One TV. In any viewable shape or form. DVD. VHS.
10. Braces.
11. A big fat power washer.
12. A new haircut with blonde in it.
13. A sugar daddy to purchase all of these things.

*of course this list is material, foolish and mostly said in jest...i have all i need, and then some....
**and "Knowing is half the battle" and other good moral redemptive stuff.

It's the MOST wonderful day of the year!

That's right.

The day where we gain an hour. Oh joy. That's sixty whole more minutes to do whatever it is you want to do . I was once asked what my favorite holiday is (I'm sure it was by Casey at a South City diner nite) and my unequivical answer was this day. This is literally better than Christmas for me. AND THIS daylight savings day was better than most.





Today I defeated a fear. A long standing childhood fear.

Of the riding lawn mower.

When I was about 11 I jumped off of one and ran screaming into the house. I am startled very easily, and incredibly gun shy, so loud noises tend to set me off, and the whir of the giant rotating blades skeered the begeezus out of me. I was up and outta there faster than a long tailed cat in a roomful of rockin chairs. Now, in my adulthood, I see them putt along at all of 3 mph and this fear has seemed rather silly. But I had never overcome this, or needed to.

But today... I was victorious. After figuring out the mystery of operation, (Amy, I attribute ignition success to my "myst" honed skills. ) I rode around the yard about thirty times. It was liberating. I definitely called like three people, including my roomate who was inside the house. It was fist-pumping amazing. Wow. I'm now a completely self-sufficient homeowner, no need to hire a lawn boy.

ALSO (as if this day could hold any more joy) I hung my two person hammock today. My mom procured a perfectly good one from Goodwill for 13 bucks. Two trips to Lowe's, four s-hooks and three feet of chain later...I am in hog heaven. I think if I died today, I'd say I lived a full and rewarding life, chock full of the blessings of God.

I'm very proud of me for the riding mulching I did today. I'm very happy and the rain held off today long enough for me to take a legitimate nap in my hammock and for me to plop a second person in it and talk about life. I'm very happy that I got to share this day with some people I love, and very happy that I went to Church today. For the first time in awhile, I truly worshipped, and there was an illustration using Sea Monkeys.

Put a couch back in the kitchen. A couchen... rather. And resurrected the tree people in art form. All in all. A great day.

I beat the mower. Huzzah!

Culprit Found!!

I can rest in peace.

Okay I give..again.

After a really humorous day of accusing everyone in my office of the aforementioned prank, the mysterious anonymous comment mystery has been solved. But this ghoster poster didn't commit the crime. Only messing with my head. It's not that hard to do.

Anyway this still leaves me with an unanswered bit of questions. WHO did this? And now, the pool of potentials has now re-expanded to included just about anyone.

To further increase the irony (this is probably a story, like a lot of my stories, that are only funny to me, so bear with) This morning. The heinous yellow chair is out at the curb for the trash pickup, and my roomate wakes up and notices that the chair is gone, but the trash hasn't come yet. Nice. Now either the perp came back and took the chair for further tomfoolery, or someone random now has themselves a *new* piece of furniture.

I should check my roof and the backyard to make sure it is indeed gone. But I fear this is a mystery that will remain a mystery for the ages.

But if you are out there, tell me who you are so I can properly give you your kudos for making me crazy.

And speaking of kudos, dish a few to Willie! for the pic. And no this wasn't the actual chair. But close in it's yellow-ness.

And it's chair-ness.

Murl out.

The Best Part of Waking Up............................... Is Soldiers in Your Cup

Or rather, the best part of coming home from a long week is finding a spattering of green army men and a rat-nasty yellow chair in your front yard, a door mat with a weird birdhouse on it, tinsel and signs saying "This Thanksgiving, Eat Chicken... *Heart* Tom Turkey" Hmm. Who are these people? And why have they not come forward? I do not understand. I have covered the obvious bases. Willie! is innocent. Casey was sick. Deana told me about seeing the chair before I got home (maybe that's a cover.. but I doubt it). The first gut reaction was DeeDee and Becky, cause I missed her birthday party... but they seem clueless too. Whoever you are you have had me. I am had. And I salute you publicly. Good game. Tell me who you are.

Always something I wonder when I'm gone for a week is if I'm missed. It's a silly thing to wonder, but it is at the core of my curiousity. Did anyone even know I was gone? I'm gone alot. It's becoming more frequent.

People can convince themselves of anything when they are trying to stand in a Southwest line. "That? That's not the line. Obviously only people who are standing UP can hold a place in line." Total abandonment of any rational thought or any consideration for fellow man. This guy also happened to be decked out from head to toe in Harley-Davidson gear. I'm just sayin.

Seriously, he thought he was going to cut infront of 12 people because they were not standing up. Wow. I was really nice, but WOW. That guy was seriously delusional. And I think he got away with it somehow. He turned a perfectly orderly line into a funnel of frenzy. Felt like it was wartime Russia and everyone was biting, kicking and grabbing for the last potato.

But my cause was upheld and the sweet man in the very front of the line let me infront of him after the evil chaos creator busted my chops and the chops of 7 sweet ladies from Nebraska.

And Molnar, I met Gary from BRI in that very same line if you are reading this. We chatted about you for a bit. It was eerie.

Also eerie is that upon wandering the strip in Vegas on a nite that we weren't scheduled to be there, going the absolute wrong way from where we were going, we ran smack into the Sullivans. SO very random. Shared three years of intense life on the b-ball team with their daughter and my folks spent three years with them in the stands. It brought tears to my eyes to see them so randomly. Randomly. Ha. As if anything is really random.

As if me asking God to show himself to me in the worldliest of places, among the worldiest of people, in my skeptical heart would go unanswered. By random conversations. By people talking about Jesus on the tee box much to the chagrin of everyone in the stands. By the woman sitting next to me on the plane reading "Dinner with a Perfect Stranger." By the beauty of his creation. By the lack of him, actually. The emptiness that is there when he is not. I could feel it. And it's cold, lonely, hard and sad but it feels normal, you know.. not sacred. You know when you have been in sacred moments. When you are on the octobery front porch sipping tea laughing talking with your girl crush and your favorite brother. When you have tears streaming down your face at the car wash on the phone to your best friend because you aren't sure of anything except for the fact that you don't know shit and a hand wax is way too expensive when there are starving people around. When you see that there are quite a handful of folks who could have "lawn art-ed" your house when you were gone and you find out that you were indeed missed. When you realize that you are sorta stealing this line of thinking from a book called Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell, but keep writing it just the same because it just rings true and I don't think he'd mind. I like the sacred moments.

Someone found a Starbucks part 2.

Yes.. I just wanted to update the update on a few things.

First. Snuggles is dead. Okay, he wasn't actually dead, but he was really close, he had stopped swimming...just to clear my conscious. He was a good fish. He lasted a year. Which, in my care, is a year longer than anyone thought he would last. I flushed him Monday morning October 17 at 11:05 am. Death at sea. In his last days he was surrounded by friends and wide-eyed onlookers, and quizzical looks. "What is wrong with him?" Some say fin rot. Some say a broken spirit. Some say a mini-fish stroke left him paralyzed on one side so that, at the end, he would struggle up to the surface, miss the food that I sprinkled, and listlessly float back to the turquoise rock bottom.

He was a good pet, even though you could never snuggle with him. He will be missed...

Sorta.


Two. We are here in Mesquite, NV for the Remax World Long drive competition. Dusty is in Group 1. You can follow him here live if you care. Dusty fought the good fight *shanked* one 326 yards. Time expired on his last ball because he picked up a mis-manufactured tee and couldn't get the ball to stay on it. Very hard to watch. But there were definitely guys hitting their best balls 326 yards. So he'll be back. I know he will be. Felt better as the day went on and some other well known guys were hitting OB on all six tries. A sport of luck. I think I will also try to be there next year. Overall, fun times in Mesquite Nevada, home of more golf courses than stop lights, and of the ridiculously cheap prime rib buffet.

Three. Just so you know where I get that thing where something stupid makes me laugh non-stop uncontrollably. It's from my mom. Oh man. Never in my life had I seen her laugh so hard. She would slow down and say "oh back spasm" and then start right back up again. Later she tells me it was a response to cut the tension of me trying to navigate my directionally challenged dad through the streets of Las Vegas. He was driving full speed and we A-Teamed it over a speed barricade (bump just doesn't seem to do this thing justice).

Anyway. Cards lose. Dusty lost. Good thing the scenery here is beautiful..