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i am not my sin

2011-07-09T13:02:00.000-04:00

I am not my sin

what you are not

well, i did it. i came out of the closet. in front of 300 youth ministers from the greater bible belt area.

now, don't get your panties in a bunch- i'm not gay. but i do struggle like hell with it. this past tuesday we were in joplin missouri (home of FAG Bearing company, ironically enough) for the national youth leaders convention. and we decided that i'd put my testimony in the show. we do a skit called 'beat down' which talks about how people go forward at church for prayer and support, and often are met by harsh words or rumors, or even total lack of compassion once people find out what they are struggling with. it went well. afterwards i talked about my struggle with homosexuality. i mentioned that i feel as if the Lord came to me, held out a deck of cards, each representing a struggle, and i drew the homo card. it's no different than the anger card, or the gossip card, the bitterness card, the kleptomaniac card. it's just a card. but somehow in the church, it's viewed as the "ultimate" card. the one NO ONE wants, and NO ONE has IF they're a good christian.

i was able to talk briefly, and to be honest, i have no clue what i said. but people came up to me afterwards, thanking me for being so transparent. and really, that's the key i think. the problem is not the sin....it's the lack of transparency.

we are taught that sin makes us dirty, that sin makes us unlovable, it separates us from the Lord. i reject that theory now. because i am not my sin. again.... i am not my sin . keep reading that. it's crucial to our understanding of who we are.

and unfortunately we tend to associate our sin with ourselves. i used to use my sin as an identifier. yeah, i'm the token homo struggler. but using sin as an identifier makes us hold onto that sin. it keeps us bound to it. only when we can let that sin go, and know that sin is not who we are, we can move closer to the Lord- because we can finally see that we are loved by him.

one youth minister in particular came up to me, and said he needed to confess something to me. he was really struggling with lust- and felt like he needed to confess that to someone- and that he could trust me. we talked for a while. probably about 45 min. and one thing seemed apparent. he was really weighed down by guilt over his struggle and sin. he said he felt like he disappointed God. and then i got on my soap box.

i believe it's impossible to disappoint God. disappointment comes from letting someone down. and letting someone down can only happen if they are expecting something different. letting someone down is a surprise. it is unexpected. if you knew it was coming, you wouldn't be let down, because you wouldn't be surprised. you would be expecting it. -- so disappointment is born out of not knowing. it is born out of a surprise. and honestly, we cannot surprise God. there is nothing we can do that will surprise him. i picture myself wrapping up a gift for God with the intent to surprise him. and it'd be like me wrapping the gift with him watching me do it. he can't be surprised. he's omnipotent. he knows my struggles, he knows my actions, my thoughts, my intent, my downfalls, my failures, my successes. he knows me. so how can my sin surprise him? if it can't surprise him, it can't disappoint him. he already knows.

that is, of course, not to say that the Lord WANTS more from me. but does he expect it? i don't think so. he knows what i can handle and what i can't. he knows me. he knows. and he loves me anyway. and that's incredibly refreshing. to know he sees me and my sin as different things. to know he loves me in spite of myself, in spite of my screw ups. and if i cannot disappoint the Lord, what do i have to fear?

fear is not of the Lord. so if fear is keeping us back from him, it's not HIM keeping us back. it's us. it's the enemy. it's a lie.

anyway- tangents can abound from this post. feel free to see how deep the rabbit hole goes.

you are not your sin.

this is a test

2011-07-09T12:58:00.001-04:00

it is only a test.

Early winter blahs

2010-12-15T21:21:00.004-05:00

It's 3 days since the first real snow and already i'm feeling depressed. yes, it's true. depressed. why? no idea. might be the weather, or not having a job (i quit about 2 weeks ago - best AND worst choice i've had to make in a while) but i've determined that it is depression that keeps looming overhead, hovering just out of swatting range, a dark cloud trying to piss all over me. the daunting task of looking for employment in this economy is enough to make you want to punch your eyes out with a pencil. It's so very easy to allow my mind to wander into the spiraling abyss of "unemployment." it's not a good spiral. and i have to fight it at all costs.

I'm not gonna let it win though. i can't let it win. it's not who i am. so... how do i chase it away? here are the cures to my winter blahs:

1) Have a morning routine and stick to it
the sure fire way of staying under the oppression of depression is to stay in your sleepwear. get a schedule, a routine, and stick to it! depression tells you, "it's not worth it." but it ALWAYS is worth it. get up at the same time each day, have a list of "must do's" each day - not tasks, but rituals. like, first - get up, 2nd shower, third drink a cup of coffee, 4th read for 45 minutes, fifth begin your tasks for the day - and so on.

2) Work out
it's important to keep blood moving, not just for your physical health, but for mental and emotional health as well. active blood moves all those toxins and nasty mental chemicals around and eventually out. as much as i hate going to the gym (mostly cuz i'm a wussy and don't like the cold) i ALWAYS feel better after doing it. as i work out, i listen to podcasts (Bill Johnson is my go-to guy right now) so i can care for my mind and spirit as i beat my body into submission. sometimes i'll lift weights too - i hope to get into that more this winter - but mostly i'm sticking to cardio. let's lose the fat and move jostle the blood around a bit.

3) Keep the TV off
It's easy to get suckered into turning on that mindsuck we call daytime tv. luckily Oprah is almost done, so you've got no more excuses come 4pm. Just leave it off. you gain nothing, but you waste everything - especially time. so keep the tv off. read a book, turn on Pandora, write, wrap gifts, complete some chores, do a puzzle, play with your pet fix the sink, do SOMETHING but DO NOT turn on that tv. take the batteries out of the remote if necessary! avoid the black hole!

4) Have daily, weekly, and monthly goals
For me, i have a list of tasks that need to be completed. as they get finished, i wipe 'em off the dry erase board. quite the feeling of satisfaction there. Some days the only goal i have is to put deodorant on. and ya know what? some days that's an accomplishment! but the tasks, as tiring as they are, give some purpose to the hours.

5) Don't let junk food into the house
garbage in, garbage felt, garbage actualized. i'm not good at this, by any means, especially around the holidays, but i'm trying to look at something before it enters my mouth and ask myself, "is this going to help or hinder me 20 minutes from now?" (I type this as i'm shoveling peanut brittle into my mouth like it's my job). when hunger strikes - or what i presume is hunger, but is probably a gnawing emptiness inside of me, also manifesting as a form of depression - i'm trying to stuff myself with oatmeal, or popcorn (no butter) or veggies and hummus. sometimes it works, sometimes not, but i know that if it's not IN the house, i won't be tempted to eat it.

6) Play some music
with today's new technology, music can be found all over the place! lots of radio stations are online now, as are sites devoted to your own personal, customizable stations. USE 'EM! put on your favorite music, or do a music flashback to when you were 12 (Safety Dance, anyone?) and don't be afraid to move around. put on some upbeat tuneage and go to town! in fact, right now, i've got my Yo Gabba Gabba station playing on Pandora. fun, happy, quirky music - and i'm smiling already.

7) Set a timer for the internet
almost as bad as the tv, the internet is a timesuck like you wouldn't believe. it's easy to get lost and sidetracked and off down magic bunny trails. the suckage can be endless! facebook's gaming program alone is a black hole of death! so, keep your face to the computer screen down to a minimum, allowing for some fun, relaxing surfing, but call it quits when the timer goes "DING."

8) Get off the damn couch!
if you're going to work on the computer, make sure you've got a specific area set aside for just that. DON'T let your couch become your 'home office' or your 'surfing station.' let the couch be used for sitting and reading, for napping, for talking with friends and family. let it be a sacred space, unsullied by the presence of 'job hunting' online.

9) Meditate
focus on something daily; a thought, a verse, a song lyric, an image, something to steer your mind in the right direction. just sit still and use the power of imagination that's been all but beaten out of us as we've had to 'grow up.' 5 minutes can change your attitude about yourself quicker than an hour of watching Maury or Montel or Tyra. or even the Hoarders marathon. start with those 5 minutes a day, disciplining yourself to think on positive things. if the negative starts to creep in, simply take control back over your mind and choose what you allow your brain to focus on. it's YOUR brain and YOUR thoughts, that means YOU ultimately have control over what it things upon. when you imagine the positive things, it WILL make a difference in your outlook on yourself and life. you are what you think!

10) Notice something beautiful each day
this can be so difficult to do when your thoughts are constantly trying to shift into high gear straight into the pooper. but take a moment each day and find something in the world that's beautiful. take your eyes off of yourself and put them onto something else. turn outward instead of inward. noticing the beautiful things helps to remind your brain that you choose to be surrounded by beauty and not gloom and doom.

so- those are my 10 things that i'm trying to do from now on. i will most likely fail often, but it's okay. tomorrow is another day. in the immortal words of George:

"It's been a long cold lonely winter... it feels like years since it's been here.
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun. And I say it's alright."

here's to getting out from under the cloud and breaking thru!

repentance for my adultery

2010-09-28T09:25:00.011-04:00

so fresh revelation comes through an impartation of wisdom, and wisdom comes as a gift from the Lord, and you receive that gift by seeking the Lord's face, and seeking the Lord's face requires a pure heart, and a pure heart begins with repentance.

last night i started to repent. and for the first time, it didn't come out as a long list of "i'm sorry i did these things" because to me, that's always been what repentance was; just saying you're sorry and telling God you're turning away from them. but last night something different happened.

in our prayer group, we began to talk about how repentance is a catalyst for a fresh move of God, and it must begin with us, with me, that we can't wait for others to do it first and then ride in on their coat tails. it requires self to die, and repentance to begin. one thing we've been studying lately is the authority of God, and i'm recognizing that i have no clue what his authority really is. on top of that, i'm learning that he wants his bride to be a lover, not a wife. there's an intimate difference there, and i really have never understood that. but things began to fall into place a little bit last night while i was bawling my eyes out and snot was staining the carpet.

as we began to pray, to repent, i had to put myself in a place i've been before, a place that is very uncomfortable, and painful, and gut-wrenching. i had to go back into the place i made for myself the last time i nearly ruined my marriage, just a few years ago. my choices had sent me down a path away from my wife, and towards the voice of another. in the moment it seemed fine, like i could have both my wife and a lover. it seemed like i could 'get away with it' which is probably one of the most selfish things anyone could think.

during that very real time, once this adulterous action had been discovered, i was in turmoil and anguish for 2+ days, writhing around on the bed in our spare room, wanting to throw up, wanting to die, crying out for forgiveness, and trying desperately to feel the weight of my decisions, awaiting the decision of whether my marriage was over or not. i often have a tendency to disconnect my emotions from my circumstances (a coping mechanism i learned as a child- kept me safe, but unable to deeply feel - not a good trade off once i became an adult). i wanted to feel the weight of my choice, so as to impress upon my heart how much pain i cause my spouse, myself, and those around me. those 2+ days were hell. didn't eat, didn't sleep, kept trying to throw up but couldn't, didn't shower, didn't get out of bed, wrestling with the choices i'd made and recognizing how awful they were, and trying to guess, to foresee, the outcome of this event - and what i saw i didn't like, nor was i prepared to deal with. even now, thinking about that time, i want to die.

it was a long road out of that place, and we're still recovering, but my wife is loving and gracious and patient and forgiving and is willing to go thru hell for me (and i've often put her there). that time in my life was a significant moment because i truly felt the weight of my decisions to listen to another's voice, to let that other person woo me, tell me what i thought i wanted to hear, i let them promise me things, i let them lie to me and i ate it up as truth. i let my heart be taken captive by another, other than my wife. the weight of that decision was crushing- it was the first time repentance became real and even tangible, and it's a moment i will never forget.

so i put myself back in that place last night. i wanted to remember what it felt like to be sorry, to be weak, to finally recognize my fault, to remember what it feels like to grieve another. i knew this was to be a time of repentance between the Lord an i, so i began to visualize my list of "i'm sorry" statements. "I'm sorry i lost my temper," "I'm sorry i hated that person so much," "i'm sorry i lusted," and the list went on. mentally, i pictured myself back in that room, awaiting the fate of my marriage. physically, i was laying on the floor, head in my hands, trying to get comfortable, emotionally, i felt nothing.

this wasn't doing it. it wasn't working. these lists of "i'm sorrys" was just not cutting it. then, i began to understand WHAT i was repenting of when it was between my wife and myself. i had turned my gaze to another, i had sought another's approval, i had desired another's touch, i wanted to hear the voice of someone else.... and then i began to understand.

my mind started to reel as i lay there, i could see just how i'd been an adulterer to the Lord, and repentance started to flow.

my life has been one where i haven't believed the Lord. instead, i'll listen to the voice of another, who tells me what i want to hear. the voice of the stranger - so exciting and enticing! it sounds sexier, and more exciting, and more fulfilling. i often trust my thoughts and feelings over the truth of God's Word, i trust my experiences rather than His voice and truth, i listen to the foreigner's song that sings, "you can get away with it" and i step out from under God's authority. the voice is sweet and sultry and beckoning. it comes to me when i'm weak and it builds me up; but that building up is a rouse, a deck of cards. there is only a faint hint of truth, but it has no foundation. i listen to the voice that whispers to me, that tells me what i want to hear instead of what i need to hear. my repentance is for letting my ears wander, for allowing my heart yearn for a different voice, for not running into the arms of my Love for reassurance and acceptance and instead seeking comfort in the arms of a stranger.

I cried for 45 minutes. waves of pain and anguish, groanings and achings, and tears upon tears upon tears, my body convulsing on the ground. it felt as though i'd hurt the only one who ever loved me. the pain reached into my spirit, and it twisted and squeezed and wrenched. if i thought it had stopped, the Lord brought back yet another moment from my past that i had sought refuge in the arms of another. it was awful.

but then the most amazing thing began to occur. as i lay dying in my transgressions, and as i cried out for mercy and forgiveness... the Lord opened the door to the room where i wept and waited and writhed. He opened the door and came to me, looked me in the eye, and said, "I love you. I believe in you. And i forgive you... because i know you."

Instantly my burden was gone. instantly i began to laugh. instantly i knew what freedom was, what freedom IS, and my heart nearly exploded from my chest. the feeling of forgiveness, the feeling of acceptance, is something that no one but your Love can give. it is a gift of mercy that goes beyond all comprehension into the core of your creation. and when something goes that deep, it changes you.

I still can feel the weight of my adultery between He and i. but it's no longer oppressive. it is a reminder to me of where i've been, of where i've come from, and hopefully where i will never tread again. I am learning now to see him as my spouse, as the one whose voice is a comfort and is true.

The arms of another are always inviting - whether physically within your marriage, or spiritually between you and the Lord. the siren's song won't go away - it will be waiting around every corner, riding to you on the wind. it will sing when you are weakest and worn out, and feeling the lowest. but the blessing is this: the Lord is there, waiting and loving, ready to sit with you, connect with you, become intimate once again, and accept that repentance. He will not beat you over the head with your past, or force you back into his embrace, because He is so good, and so loving. He hates divorce because he hates being separated from those he loves. he hates the adultery, watching his Bride, his Beloved, slip into bed with another. He is a jealous God, and will fight for our love - but will always give us the choice.

not sure any of this post made sense to you. it did to me. and that's really why i had to write it. i want to remember this. i want to make it visible to myself. i want to go back and read it - especially when the songs of the enemy start to sound sweeter than those of my God. i want to remember that i have tried the affair and it ends in tragedy and unhappiness. i want to remember that the Lord is waiting there for me, with arms open, seeing past the hurt and deep into who i am. he wants to love me, hold me, whisper his secrets to me in the privacy of our room. he wants to adore me and be close to me, closer than the air i breathe. i want to remember to maintain my relationship with him, to seek him out in the morning, to give him the best part of my day. i want to immerse myself in his word so that it's the only voice i can hear, and his is the only face i seek. daily i will talk, daily i will connect, and daily i will grow more in love with Him. i want to remember that relationship is a 2-way street. just as i the marriage between my wife and i, so goes my relationship with the Lord. He is faithful to me, so because i love him, i will be faithful to him. and when i am unfaithful, my repentance will be deep, and real, and true. and as we grow more in love, my ear will tune to His voice alone. the suitors will all leave, or at least they will be drown out by the deep, authentic love that only the Father can extend

God IS Love. why would i settle for anything less?

changing my soundtrack

2010-09-01T18:51:00.003-04:00

"He is closer than the air i breathe; He loves me more than i do; He sees things i do not and from an entirely other perspective. how could i not trust Him?"

a lot has been taking place under the surface of life lately. it's nearly impossible to try and condense it down now, but it's nothing that others before me haven't already endured. this doesn't take away from its impact on my life, my psyche, and my attitude. and lately my attitude has been pretty crappy. it's easy to allow myself to slip into "reality" for a bit. the reality is financially we're barely above the poverty line; just high enough to not qualify for help, but low enough to not dig out of the hole. i'm sure many can relate. we're questioning the future, our purpose, our identity, our place in this walk. we are aggressively trying to push into the realm of having a family, we are seeking potentially new employment, anything really, that will afford us to pay our bills, which means we'd stop traveling so much as a ministry and start having that "normal" life everyone complains about, but we are foreigners of. we are beginning to take our lives into our own hands, to quit making excuses (for us and for God) and quit using the "ministry" scapegoat so frequently. we are taking steps to get our lives on track and take our dreams by force.

and each day we are met with an onslaught of opposition.

some would say it's the Lord trying to prevent us from doing something out of his will. i can't agree with that one since what we're pressing into is EXACTLY his will for his people: be fruitful and multiply. it's easy to pawn our misfortune off onto God, and we've done it for a long time even. but i'm done with that. i'm over it. i'm moving on to find the promise that he's laid before me. i'm seeking my inheritance with fervor and passion. because... why not?

life came to a head (again) the other day. the wife and i have been trying to figure out the maze of confusion called Adoption, and we're honing in on the path we feel like traveling down in this monstrous journey to grow our family. as you may or may not know, we've been trying to conceive our own children for the past 9 years with no success. there's nothing "wrong" with us per se, except my count is low, but there are plenty of healthy swimmers to get the job done. we've been told for multiple years by multiple different people, that we'll have children, but each month thus far, their words return empty. the hopelessness and confusion has eclipsed most of the past several years, and we're tired of being without a little pooper running around the house.

so we decided to adopt. we've always felt like we'd adopt, but we never thought we'd be adopting first. and let me tell you, it's a labyrinth of chaos.there are a billion different ins and outs to this adoption. lots of rules, laws, expenses, paperwork, documentation, proof, and a slew of other things that make adoption a daunting task. we feel like we are to adopt internationally, and we were feeling drawn to the country of Russia. having agreed on this (which was not an easy decision) we did the pre-application to be approved for adopting from Russia.

and we were denied.

confusion is nothing new to me. i've felt it a lot in life. as with the feeling of injustice and rage and disappointment. again, who hasn't felt these things? but to come to a difficult decision with your spouse and then to be told that your decision is invalid... well at this point in my life, it's no longer acceptable. i'm tired of life, of people, of circumstances saying "no" when my heart and dreams tell me yes. not trying to be selfish here, but i need to paint the picture of desperation and yearning that's forming in my inner world. i'm through playing games and being passed over. oh, did i mention the reason we were told no? we don't make enough money.

i've been playing that song for the past 15 years and it's old and busted. i've been doing ministry for all those years, and have, more often than not, we've had to pray our way into having enough money at the beginning of each month just to pay rent, let alone the other bills that are always there. granted, we've never missed a rent check, and never had collections coming to our door, but we want to live in abundance, so that we can give abundantly! currently, i wait tables at a restaurant that i fully believe in and stand behind, but patrons take a more conventional approach to food than our restaurant. so, on some days, like today, i make $30. some days it's more, some days it's less - but every day is a prayer for provision and income. every day is a crap shoot as to what i'll bring home. and the unpredictability of it is slowly making my mind melt. so it's time to change it. i am on the prowl for a new job, THE job, the one i was made for. AND it's gonna include a paycheck! at least it better. this hunt has been taking place for a while. i actually have a job in my sight, and better yet, it's with the same company that owns the restaurant, however the money is not there to make this job a reality yet. and i've been waiting 6 months for this job to come to fruition. as of today, it still has not. each week i wait for the money, the grants, the funding to be instated so i can start this very cool job that i'm stoked about, but so far.... nothing. so i wait.

the frustration of waiting is also a tiresome song that's been playing for far too long.

the day we heard the news we were denied due to lack of income, i almost came apart at the seams. i began to get violent, rageful. the anger and injustice and 'fed up-ness' of it all hit me hard. my wife was crying, and that broke the camel's back. she's shed enough tears - it's time for those to stop. i began the song i usually start to sing when i get so emotionally jacked up, and i started to swear at the Lord (again) and ask him the same questions of "why? when? how? where are you? why won't you? do you hate me?!?"

it's a cycle, a broken record, several broken records, that have been playing for the last several years. all these songs are getting old to me. the ones i hear from others, the ones i play to myself, the ones i sing at the Lord. it's time to change the station.

the next morning, after hearing the latest No in our growing list of "NO's," i decided to spend some time on our balcony and try to rest in the presence of God. nothing mystical here. just want to sit and invite him to sit with me, be aware of him around and in me, and not burden the moment with a long list of requests and gripes and rants and generic conversation that so easily turns into a simple and selfish one-way stream of words that us christians are so fond of creating. so i sat and waited, and breathed deep the morning air. i told the Lord i was there waiting and if he wanted to join, he could. we didn't have to talk, we could just sip our coffee together like friends do - no words holding them together, just the mutual love and peace of being near each other, in each other's presence.

and for a while.... nothing.

again, not a new sensation. it was okay. i wasn't sitting there to "get" anything out of it. i didn't expect a magic lightning bolt to rip through heaven and solve my problems, nor was i expecting for God to say anything, or do anything, or even show up. i was just being available and having a truly quiet time watching the sun rise and the squirrels run around the trees. it was nice. and quiet. and very relaxing. time, of course, keeps moving forward and i had to shower, get dressed, and go to work. i stood up from my chair and grabbed my coffee cup to go start my day, and that's when the thought hit me.

"He is closer than the air i breathe; He loves me more than i do; He sees things i do not and from an entirely other perspective. how could i not trust Him?"

this phrase didn't give me a job, or take away my debt, or give me a child, or even make me happy. but in that one moment, with coffee cup in hand, i started to gain a new viewpoint of my situation. i realized that the burden for me to bear is too much, and it's not mine to carry in the first place. i breathed in deep, knowing He was right here, is right here, and will continue to be right here.

that day, the songs playing in my head sounded different. some of them sounded old and worn out. outdated even. and i got rid of several of them. i don't need them anymore. i've got something else to listen to. it might not catch on for a while, and that's okay. it will. until then, i'll make a point to keep this new song going, put it on repeat, and let it drown out the others until they are no more, and the journey down this insane and unstable road i call my life will have a new soundtrack, that sounds an awful lot like a simple, deep breath.

40 days of birthing pains

2010-07-08T19:38:00.004-04:00

so we're on a 40 day fast. lemme tell you what... it sucks. immediately after starting this thing, all hell seems to break loose.

instantly it seems my world has gone completely nuts, that it's come undone. i feel like my brain is scratching to get out of my body, and that my thoughts are trying to lynch my soul. ever since this fast started, i feel like there are more questions than answers. it's a battle between head knowledge and heart knowledge - and i'm not sure who's winning right now.

i got an email the other day from a friend. it talks about this particular season on the jewish calendar as being the 'dire straits.' it's a time of pressing and squeezing, and barrenness and confusion, based on the scripture in Lamentations 1:3 "All her persecutors overtake her in dire straits." the email talks about how we can make it thru the narrow places, and in warring with our enemy of this age, we must learn how to occupy and possess what we've already been given. not only occupy and posses, but to continue possessing. we must be a people who settle for nothing less than the abundance the Lord has for us. however, there's always another war within the portion we've already been given.

this time period, the dire straits, was originally intended to be a time of celebration and joy. it was the day the Israelites entered the land of promise at Kadish Barnea. spies went into the land and brought back good fruit, giant fruit, for the people to taste. but because of the negative report of the ten spies, they chose the path of unbelief and refused to enter God's promise. because of that unbelief, the entire nation entered into a curse that persists to this day.

man oh man, do i feel like i'm in the dire straits. we've been told the land is ours, the fruit is ours, yet the enemy that's in our land and eating our fruit seem too huge. i feel like one of the 10 spies. i feel like turning my head and running. i feel like bitching and whining and complaining and cursing God and acting like a spoiled brat. it's bubbling to the surface and looking pretty messy and disgusting. right now my head and my heart are at war, and i think my head might be winning. it's telling me life is impossible, that the land is a lie, that the promises aren't true, that God is most definitely NOT in control. my heart tells me to trust in the Lord, and quit leaning on my own understanding (my thoughts, of course). my heart tells me the land is mine for the taking. my heart says it will be ok. my head is screaming at me like i'm an idiot.

i'm fasting from tv. i should be fasting from ALL media (including facebook and the other time wasters) but being without tv is doing the trick. my nights are quiet. uncomfortably so. i'm left with my thoughts, or a book i can't concentrate on BECAUSE of my thoughts, and my wife, who has patiently listened to my thoughts and shares in them, provides an ear, but not a solution. it's quite possibly killing my flesh right now that i can't turn off my brain - and i think that's the point.

i want to kill my flesh more - not even for spiritual reasons, but for strictly personal ones. i want to have mastery over my flesh, gain self control, make my body obey ME rather than the other way around. it should take orders from me, not the other way around. i should tell it when to eat, when to sleep, when to relax. my mind is stronger than my flesh, but my flesh has had much more freedom than my mind. it's like giving a 4 yr old sugar, and 20 minutes later trying to get him to sit still in silence with his hands folded in his lap. it just ain't wanting to happen. my mind is screaming all over the place, like a mother about to explode. all i want is some order, some cooperation, some peace, some direction. i just want a break.

yes, i'm in a dire strait. it sucks. but i know this pressing together, this squeezing, is pushing that out of me which shouldn't be in. it's like ripping a wart out of your big toe. it's there, it's grown, now you're trying to dig it out and it hurts like hell and it's messy and there's blood everywhere, and it's got no right to be there but it's made a home so it won't go away without a fight. and after picking and ripping and squeezing and clawing at it, the wart is dug out, the seed is displaced, but there's still healing to be done. this month will be purifying and painful. i don't know if i'll get closer to God or just end up really pissed off at him and thinking he's a big poop head. either way, i know this battle raging inside me is good for me. it's making me uncomfortable enough to move and take action and DO something.

the attack, not surprisingly, immediately came against my identity. why wouldn't it? it's the achilles heel of each man. if you know who you are, then you are a mountain- strong, mighty, immovable. if you don't, you're like a bug in a tornado - powerless, thrown around, disoriented. sadly right now i'm feeling like a bug and the wind is really whipping me. i thought i knew who i was, and all the rights it gave me, simply because i'm me, but apparently i didn't have it stuffed deep enough into my heart to take root. it was quickly ripped up and thrown away. daily i am hearing lies about myself, about my ability to be a man, about my masculinity, about my future and my ability to provide for my wife, about how i'm a failure and no good, and weak, and a coward, and overlooked and forgotten and a joke. yeah. i get that stuff daily.

i can see why the enemy uses identity as his primary weapon. it worked awesome with adam and eve - he made them question their identity as God's favorite. he made them think they weren't special enough, that God was holding out on them, that they somehow didn't measure up. it worked on them, for sure. and then along comes Jesus and the enemy tries the same tactic. he confronts the Christ right at the core of his identity. "IF you are the son of God..."
if you question your identity, you question your inheritance.

and if your inheritance is in question, then nothing has foundation. there is no promise, no guarantee, no solid ground. this 40 day fast is proving to me that i gotta get back into figuring out who i am. i've gotta make a stand and decide what side of identity i fall on. do i trust and believe what i feel? or do i trust and believe what scripture says?

i wish i could say the 'right' answer is the one i'm going to do. but i can't. i'll try, that's for sure. but this is a learning process and a squeezing time. i'm getting the bad seeds squeezed out of me. it's not as easy as "just read the bible, just believe what it says." but at the same time, it's exactly that easy. it's my choice. there's power in my choice. i can stand firm knowing that i HAVE a choice. making a choice, however, is a different story.

have i confused anyone yet? maybe. i've sure confused myself, i think. but i know what i want.

i want the monster fruit. i want what's been promised me. i want to reap what i've sown. i want freedom and joy and splendor and life. i want to believe that the 10 spies are wrong, and that my 2, my minority self, is right. i want to see the giants and scoff at them because they're not all they think they are. i want to inherit the land and eat its yield. after all, it's mine to eat.

i do have to fight for this fruit. i need to stake my claim in the land, and work the soil and uproot weeds. i need to get dirty and muddy and break my back with toil and get up at the ass crack of dawn to till the ground. this land is an inheritance, but it's not free. it's work.

so this 40 days of fasting... it sucks. it really does. but i'm trusting for a breakthrough, trusting the clouds will part and rain down on the dry land and seep into the seeds that have been planted and they begin to sprout up. i'm trusting that this dire strait is the birth pangs of new life, of new opportunity, of new vision. i don't mind being pressed in and squeezed through. i may cry along the way, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. it's where i draw my breath, where i receive my name, and begin walking into the promises made for me, unafraid of the giants in my way, confident that the inheritance is mine.

why? because i'm His son.

so watch this

2010-06-30T20:15:00.001-04:00

watch this 3 times in a row. i dare you!

(warning: some language)

a year? dang! that's not ok!

2010-06-27T18:05:00.004-04:00

yes. a whole year. not sure what to make of that actually. there's so much that needs to be said, but i don't have the words to say it. there's also a years worth of events and victories and failures and ups and downs and joy and sorrow and pain and struggle and life.
i've felt unable to write for a while (at least a year, obviously) and i believe the block is starting to lift; rather, i'm shoving hte block out of my way. there's stuff that needs to be said, stuff i've been collecting over the years in my tiny brain, and it's starting to seep out, little by little. now i need to format it and put it all in one place before it disappears.

truth is, i'm lazy. i'm distractible. i'm apathetic. i'm procrastination. and i'm convicted. it's time to shake off the wet blankets that are holding me down, keeping me comfortable (yet soggy) and begin to begin.

i've now read thru a majority of my blog over the past 6 or so years of its life. it's a smattering of non sequitur joy and pain, comedy and tragedy, banal banter and heart-exposed emotion. i'm not sure this is my outlet forever, but it most certainly has served a purpose. if anything, it's kept all my collection of ramblings from going away into space. will i continue writing? yes. in a blog format? who knows. maybe? i just don't have a clue. but i do know i am going to be more intentional with my words and time. i'm going to give myself over to the thoughts that are swirling in my head and begin to put pen to paper, or fingertip to plastic letter keys as it were.

my pastor has given us a book about fighting our lions - chasing down that which threatens us, wrestling it to the ground, and ripping its jaws apart - so it's time to stop running from my lion, turn, and wrestle that bitch to the ground. and it's going down hard. it's time to step out into some unknown territory and produce something that has been bottled up in me, waiting for release. it may work, it may not, but it's time to quit wondering and just do something. get moving! take a step! walk in a direction! ANY direction - just start to move!

there's some apprehension in starting to write again. i think it's from a place of fear. i'm afraid of what might come out. or that nothing will come out. or that what comes out is worth nothing. i'm afraid of what i'll write. it may have the power to undo some of myself - which could be a good or a bad thing. it's risky to share what's been going on in my world, my life, because it can open the door to attack and criticism and slander and on and on and on. but i think i'm thru fearing that. i think the need to write what's burdening my heart is outweighing the fears of the repercussions of what i write. plus, what i write will hopefully not be of me, but of the Lord. that way, if anyone has a beef with it, they can take it up with Him. sounds like a cop out maybe, but it's something to get me off my proverbial ass (i say 'proverbial' since it's actually going to set me right square ON my ass) and start doing something.

so here's to ripping apart the lion, and the battle scars that will be produced from the encounter. i hope the blood spatters everywhere!

babies a go-go

2009-06-15T23:32:00.001-04:00

so here we are, years later, and still no fetus to speak of. honestly, at this point, i'm ok with it. in all honesty - or at least that's what i tell myself. i'm not sure what's really changed for me. might be simply that we don't have a kid and i've got no other choice. it feels like babies are coming out of the woodworks nowadays. and here we sit with none... yet.

so as you may or may not know, we've been trying for over 7 years now. it's has been evil and messy and painful and disappointing and awful and depressing and stretching and growing and faith-building and challenging and hopeful and just a monster, epic journey.

i don't quite know if i've written much about this whole thing before (aside from the cursing and the ranting) but it's been a journey wrought with desperation and hope, and it feels a bit more epic than my basic words could explain. many years ago kat and i were prophesied over, and we were told specific words about the children we would bear and their purposes in the kingdom. it has felt very much like a struggle within the unseen for this birthing miracle to come to pass. we have had affirmation upon affirmation, but disappointment upon disappointment right on its heels.

if multiple people on multiple occasions speaking the same words to you about the monumental role your children will take for His glory weren't enough to sustain you thru testing and trials, the Lord has been bringing reinforcements into the mix. one is a story of hope. you can watch it here if you'd like. this sort of thing has been happening more and more lately.

the other week, kat was at home waiting for a repairman to come and fix the ceiling in the pantry of our new apartment. there was a leak, and it appeared the first rain we experienced- right over our tortilla chips and our flour. rain was running in thru the ceiling and we were not pleased. we went thru the necessary channels to get it repaired, and a week later a man was in our apartment cutting out the rotted roof. i was gone, kat was home alone so our neighbor jen came up to be another presence there. long story short, this ceiling repair guy ended up singing a song to my wife, a song about God's promises, about how he promised Abraham and Sarah a son, and they bore a son; about Zechariah and Elizabeth bearing John, the forerunner of Christ; about Joseph and Mary bringing God to earth at just the right time. it was a song about God's promises coming to fruition, even if it feels like they never will. his 2nd song was from the perspective of a baby, excited to be born, dreaming of the day he can see his mother's face.

2 songs, both about God's promises coming true, both songs dealing with issues we're in the midst of, and this stranger was just there to fix our leaks. after he sang, he went right back to fixing the ceiling. how amazing. how unreal.

then there's the time someone watched the video on hope (above) and got in contact with me, asking if they could send our contact info and story to their pastor. he has a history of praying for people to get pregnant and they do, within months. this pastor contacted me and offered to pray over kat and i. i didn't know where he lived, but was willing to drive wherever for this man to bless us. he lives in NY, and i said we lived in michigan. "michigan?" he says. "i'm headed there next weekend. i'll be near detroit." yes- of all the places to be traveling, he' comes to my back yard.

he spoke about kronos and kairos - how we will bear our children in kairos time, not kronos time. he spoke about the importance of remembering that kronos is not true time, but an image of time we've created. kronos is where we fret and stress and race. kairos time is more at ease, more flowing, and much more perfectly timed. kairos time does not speed us along- it nurtures us and carries us along for the journey. it is divine and divinely appointed. he prayed with authority and continues to lift us up in prayer, knowing that God has set something in motion - we are just waiting for kronos to catch up with kairos.

i was told once that God was going to bless me and make me a father once i am fathered. just a few weeks ago, our pastor asked if he could father me, take me under his wing and show me how to be a son. the words were identical.

kat and i have had dreams of being pregnant, of being parents, of having children. these are not the dreams brought on by the subconscious, but dreams that linger long after you wake. they are dreams that gnaw at your heart and ring true in your soul.

a few days ago, kat was struggling with this waiting period for children. she randomly flipped open a daily devotional book from the 1800's she'd picked up at a used bookstore. the lesson/devo she flipped to was about how God had to prepare Mary before she gave birth to the Messiah. she had to be made noble before the implantation. in order to raise up a warrior, a woman must be made noble first.

the struggle comes at the in between times. it comes during the dry days, the hurtful days, the days where we forget the promises, and instead of relying on God to be a God who keeps promises, we accuse him of forgetting his promises. in those in between days, weeks, months, years - the ones that aren't written about in the bible.

kat and i have, on several occasions, been referenced to Abraham and Sarah. while i'm not a fan of this comparison, i can see the beauty in it. they waited for YEARS for their offspring, and when it happened, their offspring was the beginning of God's people. what an honor! but what's not recorded is the struggle abe and sarah had during all those days prior to the promise coming to fruition. it doesn't talk about the days sarah felt worthless and forgotten as everyone around her was getting pregnant and popping out children like they're they Dugger family. it doesn't record the days and weeks and years of the faithful couple screaming, "it's not fair!" and shaking their fists at a God whose master plan includes so much hourly pain and torture and torment as this couple experienced. they grew old, they grew tired, and i can only imagine they grew bitter. bitterness that waxed and waned, depending on the season, depending on the circumstances, upon their company.

i have gone thru these emotions. i have shared them with my wife. there are times when it strikes her more. then times when i'm laid flat out in rage and anger and jealousy and frustration. there have been days i curse the Lord's torture (theologically i understand this isn't what it is, but it sure as hell feels like, well, hell). there have also been days where i'm overwhelmed with joy and excitement and anxiousness at what the Lord is doing and going to do. there are days i feel God is on the move in a mighty way in this situation, then there are others i feel as if he's forgotten that we're even here.

so here i am. here we are. everyone around us seems to be well on their way to getting their own reality baby show, and we are still without a child. i battle that feeling of envy on a daily basis. but i am learning that it's ok to battle. it's also ok to question God's plan, and to cry out in hurt and anguish. but i MUST remember the things that we've been told, the things HE is doing for us. it doesn't make the wanting or the pain or the feeling of injustice go away, but it somehow lends credibility to it.

this experience is now turning into something less than about having children, and more about whether or not i trust the Lord to deliver on what's been promised. it attacks the core of my being, and confronts my very basic thoughts about who God is and how he feels about me. it is cutting me to the marrow and bringing me to the crux of my faith. it's forcing me to dig into discovering who God is, and who i believe him to be - because those 2 things can be completely different.

so, i'm ok with not having a kid. and i can say that, and mean it as best i can tell, because i believe the Lord is working things out within me, within us, to prepare us, our basic foundations, to be a steady rock-solid platform for our children to stand upon and grow from. based on the wonders that have taken place in the foreshadowing of our children's birth, a rock solid faith will be necessary.

so until the promise comes to pass, i will dig into, and examine, who God says he is and who i say he is. and while it's true there have been records of children being conceived without the introduction of a male donator, i'll continue to do my part of the equation for baby production.

the latest update

2009-04-30T16:28:00.003-04:00

it has been quite a while since posting. i miss writing. but since i'm sitting here in a coffee shop with my laptop out, it seems like the thing to do. hold on, lemme get my glasses on.... ok better.

so here's what's going on - i am so astounded by all that's been happening as of late. not sure exactly how to quantify it, or really even describe all that's happening, but i know for one thing that God is pretty dang active right now. we've gone thru a period of quiet, and are now pretty full force into a season of "odd" things happening on a daily basis. we're getting words from the Lord, confirmations, blessings, divine moments, answered prayers- i can't really keep up. i'm trying to take it all in but it's difficult.

i'm really struggling right now, trying to figure out what exactly to say- but all i know is i need to start putting things down in writing. i'm pretty sure if i didn't start, i would question if it really happened, or possibly forget entirely. so, i'll try and recap the past several months into a paragraph or 2.

we started going to a church - not the church i'd have picked out for us, but it turns out it's perfect for us at the moment. we can see God's hand all over this place, and all over our coming there. we decided to leave the apt we were in cuz rent was so high- plus we wanted to start fresh and leave the past in the past. so we found on craigslist a tiny 1br pad for an unreal price, which would allow us to save money and pay off the massive debt we (sadly) accrued. we found this place at just the right time. the landlord put it up on craigslist that day, and had dropped the price by 200. we were first to call on it. the location was perfect, within walking distance to where we wanted to go. close to parks, trails, coffee shops, grocery stores- all walking distance.

for the move, the church (which we haven't really placed membership at yet officially) stepped up and helped in a huge way. dennis volunteered to help us move, don volunteered his van/trailer, we had family/friends come out of the woodwork to help. it was over in like a few hrs. so amazing! everything fit in the apt, ajax loves it, and our neighbors are a true godsend.

gabe and jen are fresh water to a dry desert. we are very much alike, and in similar places spiritually. already they've spurred us on more than is humanly possible. i can write for hours about that relationship, but i have a feeling i won't need to since they're lifelong, God-ordained friends. lots of fellowship shall ensue.

God's timing is very perfect. i need to remind myself of this. it's perfect. i am often disappointed by his slowness (in my eyes anyway) but i realize he has a better clue and purpose than i can understand.

pastor has invited me to be mentored by him. he has a group of guys that meet every other week with him. he's asked me to be a part of that. it could not be any more timely. it speaks into prophecies that have been a long time coming. it will be the fulfillment of a loooong suffering and bring healing/breakthru/knowledge/training just at the right time.

the Lord has been active and alive lately, after a period where i know he's been around, but have not felt like he's wanted to be there. i have often told kat that i've felt like the Lord and i were always in the same house, but we didn't really talk. i used to feel like he sat in the big comfy chair with his head hidden behind a newspaper or some other distraction. i felt his presence, like he was in the room but disinterested in interacting. now i'm feeling like he sits by our bed at night waiting for the sun to rise so he can smile on us and show us more cool shit! it's a good feeling.

overall, i'm just feeling a lot of promise. and a lot of hope. and a lot of passionate tension - the good kind. the kind that keeps you on the edge of your seat and helps you wake up in the mornings in a good mood.

um.... so yeah. that's life as of today. hopefully i'll be better about marking things on here. primarily for my own peace of mind and to get me back into the habit of writing. i miss it.

good things are afoot.

monday suckers are my favorite!

2009-01-12T20:32:00.006-05:00

so, it's been a while since posting, but today was SO great, i had to at least write something!
to help make ends meet, kat and i both have been working part-time as respite workers/helpers for people with physical/mental disabilities. our schedules are pretty set, each of us having about 3 or 4 clients a week. on mondays, kat takes care of a boy with hydrocephalus and i take care of a boy with downs and autism. kat's job on mondays is a bit more difficult. she has to meet her client at the bus and help get him off. he's in a wheelchair and has very little motor skills. she brings him inside, feeds him a bottle, changes his diaper, and lays him down for a nap. a few hours later, she gets him up, changes his diaper again, feeds him pureed food, and by that time, it's 6 and she's done.

i, on the other hand, get to pick up my client from school. his name is drew. drew has downs syndrome and some mild autism. he's a great kid and has really taken to me. we've started a tradition that when i come pick him up on mondays, i give him a sucker or 2. he loves suckers! who doesn't, right?

the first time i met drew, i was at his house. he's very shy and reserved. but upon introducing myself, he mumbled, "dat's my name too." and 5 minutes later he was sitting next to me on his couch, grabbing my hand, and interlocking fingers. it was pretty sweet. i guess him holding my hand is a comfort to him, because he does it all the time. i don't mind a bit.

so on mondays, i drive to drew's school and meet him in the hallway. when he sees me, he walks right over and grabs my hand. he grips it all the way to the car, and then again when we get to the bowling alley.

yes- every monday, i get to go bowling with special needs kids. there's about 25 of them, all arriving after school. you can hear when they enter the building because it's a bustle of coats, bowling shoes, fart jokes, belches, and a lot of laughter. they get into teams of 6, and after a few practice rounds, they all start trying to knock down some pins. there is one team, they call themselves the Stooges:

and they are actually pretty good. they manage to get down more pins than they get gutters. they are pretty high functioning and pretty cocky about their mad bowling skills.

this is charles in his lucky bowling outfit. he makes earrings. i bought kat a pair. for a dollar.

this is adam.

he's the self-appointed leader of the bunch.

he calls himself the captain of the ship.

nope. i'm not kidding.

that's a fake cigar he's got in his mouth. he's bought one for each of the guys on the Stooges team. and yes, the end lights up like a burning ember.

john, their teacher/coach, hands out a buck and a quarter for each of them, and there's a mad dash to the pop machine. some don't wait for john and they bring their own money for an extra sugar rush.

so, every monday i get to surround myself with these guys, and i LOVE it! they are so fun, so full of laughter, and such awesome sports! at first, when i was just starting this job, there wasn't a whole lot of interaction between me and the rest of the students. i was a stranger and they weren't sure what to think of me. but now, i have become their cheerleader.
there is one boy, dominick, who wouldn't give me the time of day. dominick has CP (cerebral palsy) and has a gimp hand and his knees lean in. he bowls by holding the ball in the palm of his good hand, steadying it with his gimp hand, then runs full speed and launches the ball with abandon towards the pins. and you know what? he's getting really good! when i was first starting there, i would watch him in particular because it amazed me how he never let his disability be a disability. instead, he learned how to use his disability to his advantage. he gains momentum by running/shuffling, and uses that force to get the ball to reach the pins. and he's got this interesting spin on the ball (no clue how he does it) but at the last 2 feet of the lane, the ball curves sharp right. for a while, dominick was always landing in the right gutter. so one day i suggested that he step a little bit to the left when he was running up for the launch. sure enough, he started knocking pins down. he was SO excited! mind you, his verbal skills are not too strong. you can't understand him most times because his mouth/tongue don't work like they should. he constantly has spit buildup in his mouth, and when he gets excited, it foams up. so when he started getting strikes, he would froth like a cappuccino maker! from that point on, dominick and i were friends. he would wait to make sure i was watching before he launched his ball. he'd high five me when he did good, he'd say "that close!" when he did bad. but every single time, he had a smile on his face.
another bowler, derek, part of the Stooges team, and i are becoming friends too. one day i mentioned to him that the way he bowls reminds me of how i bowl. he and i both slide up to the line, and don't have much of a swing to our arm. we both kinda shove the ball down the lane and it's pretty hit or miss for both of us. but one day, i mentioned this to derek and from then on, he watched to make sure i was watching him. when he got a strike, he'd run up and tell me. when he got 3 strikes, he was so proud, and you could see it on his face. he's a good kid, and he makes me laugh. secretly i keep hoping each game he'll beat adam, the self-appointed commander. more times than not, derek does!
then there is kaydeen. she bowls with the Stooges too. this poor girl is surrounded by 5 other guys, all of the belching and farting and there she is stuck in the middle of it. i started watching her too, because she, for the most part, goes under the radar compared to the Stooges. she's quiet, shy, and very sweet. and when she stands correctly, she's a pretty good bowler. she has no run towards the line. her motor skills are a bit lacking. so she stands at the line, bends at the waist, and allows the ball to pendulum swing until she's ready to release. she's improving for sure. she noticed me watching one day and smiled, then proceeded to bowl a strike. today, she asked me to tie her shoes in the sweetest voice.
then there is dan. he's about 4 foot 3, wears thick glasses and has downs. he's the quietest of the group (except for drew). when he sits on the chairs to get his bowling shoes on, his feet don't touch the ground. he brings along his cd player and listens to music in between frames to pump himself up. frequently we can't find dan. turns out he's in the bathroom. "he's downloading" say the Stooges. then they laugh and talk about how he always downloads at certain times every day, especially after he eats ketchup. john, their teacher, always buys several orders of fries from the grill there at the alley. with those fries comes the ketchup. and dan can be found eating just the ketchup, dipping his finger into the ketchup cup, then placing it quickly into his mouth. 20 minutes later, a round of downloading.
david and marty are twins. david isn't as proficient at bowling as marty is. so, marty's on the Stooges team, while david helps out jason and sueann - both of whom have CP pretty severely and are restricted to wheelchairs. he wheels them up to the line, places the ball ramp, seen here:

in front of them, and then helps them roll the ball down the ramp, sometimes connecting with pins, sometimes not. but every time that ball heads down the lane, there is anticipation and excitement. it's amazing how such a simple thing like rolling an 8 lb. ball can bring such joy.

so now you have a picture (several pictures) of what i see every monday. and this is what i'm really learning. every monday. i'm learning from these special needs students how to be human, to be loving, to be full of joy. they don't care what people think about them, or even if their clothes are matching or even fitting. they don't care about their bills or what's on tv tonight, or even what they'll have for dinner. they live in the moment, enjoying it and letting go. it's simple pleasures in life that make them laugh and smile. it's a fart that smells like death, or a call from one of their girlfriends, or a belch that's so loud it scares the person next to them. they laugh and howl at it all. bowling isn't about the competition, or even about doing better. it's a time of fellowship and fun, a time to encourage each other even when they suck at bowling.
i love mondays because they remind me to not take myself so seriously. they remind me that it's ok to not always be trying to do better than the person next to me, or even better than i did the day before. i get to live in the moment, and celebrate with those who celebrate. i get to laugh when others laugh. i get to have special moments that warm my heart and remind me that i am so utterly blessed beyond compare. the blessing is not that i'm healthy, physically and mentally, and able to care for myself, but i am blessed because i get to surround myself once a week with a part of God's creation that doesn't judge or condemn, but smiles and encourages and laughs. i am a weekly witness to joy and happiness and miracles and celebration. i am blessed because i get to be where most people fear to go. i get to see moments not many are willing to see. i am blessed because i am loved unconditionally. i am valued for simple reasons like being able to tie shoes, or make a joke, or give a high five.

so, i wanted to write this. maybe it will encourage you to smile at the little things in life, or to just enjoy the moment more. i wanted to make sure i put this in writing for those days in the future that will challenge me and get me down. i know i have tendencies to not laugh as much as i want to, and to take life more seriously than is required. this will be a reminder that even mondays are fun, if you let them be.

it's the simple things in life, like a sucker on bowling day, that brings value and worth to the moment.

yes, monday suckers are my favorite.

the obligatory post on political views

2008-10-30T17:16:00.002-04:00

so, my sister-in-law and i got into a mini-debate via email this past week. she's a right wing conservative, and i'm just disillusioned with the whole mess, but landing somewhere closer to the left wing than i was 4 years ago. much of the debate was sparked by the standard abortion issue. i am not a fan of debating the abortion issue mostly because within the circles i run, it's RED is RIGHT, and all others are pro-baby killing. for many conservative christians, their entire vote is based on this one hot topic. that bothers me. a lot. especially when not all the facts are there - and the facts they might have are skewed depending on the source of those facts.

so, i sent my sister an email with links to this website. mostly i wanted to make the point that there ARE christians who are NOT Reds. there are God-loving, God-fearing faith-filled folks who believe the liberal side is not as far off base as their christian community might tell them they are.

anyway, the debate stayed very civil and very light-hearted (hard to do when talking about abortion, i know). i forwarded my wife the emails (since it IS her sister i was talking to, and because i like to stir the waters a bit) and she suggested i blog what i wrote. so - here is my reply to my sis-in-law (whom i love and respect, just for the record).

the abortion issue isn't my main focus in an election year. i know it is for many, but for me it isn't the driving force. for some, maybe it's potty training their three year old! sidebar - we have friends who are going to potty train their 2-month old - i just said "good luck!" to 'em.

i believe each person will have to answer for their actions in this abortion debacle - doctors, nurses, pregnant women... and this is an issue of morality, not politics. the hard part for me is that this could all be a non-issue if doctors would just walk away from these opportunities. it takes 2 people to play a game. my anger and indignation is with them, that they continue to do something that turns a life into a paycheck - not with the political extremists to tout choice and rights over decency and life. no one is holding a gun to the docs' head, forcing them to mangle and scrape. no one is forcing the nurses to watch and help the tragedy. no one is forcing the women to go thru with it. this blood is on their hands. it is a choice they have made because they think they have rights, even tho a very wrong and horrific one, and we as humans really have no rights at all. "rights" isn't even a biblical concept.
should it be illegal to murder? absolutely! do i see abortion as murder? yes! does everyone? sadly no. they were not raised like i was, and have a different value system than i do. but the government is not the morality police. they shouldn't be morality police - then we'd be in a wold of hurt! we, the church, should be setting the tone of what this world's moral compass is. and guess what, it isn't government that's failed us - it's US that's failed us.

did you happen to read the "future letter" from Focus on the Family? they wrote a letter pre-dated for oct. 22, 2012 as an "i told you so" letter to prove obama is the antichrist and will bring about the moral degradation of our society - here's the link:

http://focusfamaction.edgeboss.net/download/focusfamaction/pdfs/10-22-08_2012letter.pdf

and yes, i followed links from the focus on the family site. it's legit.

kat and i read it last night and it made us pretty sad. mostly because of the huge biases and the massive amounts of fear-laced speculation and conjecture. this letter is pretty lowdown, dirty and harmful. in the letter, they reveal how the country COULD be different if the Dems were in the big house - but the way it's written, they infer that this is what WILL happen. it's this type of fear-mongering that not only has the country so divided, but it is instilling hate (quite the opposite of what we as christians are commanded to be) literally, fear and hate, for those who do not stand on the far right. it sets up those who read it (conservative christians) to believe the end of the world will come if there's a democrat in charge. christians have seen focus on the family as a reliable source and a moral compass - but this letter from them pushes it too far. their compass swung from morally north and went due south, deciding to play up fears and what if's, assuming that no democrat has a soul or conscience, and that the american people, especially christians, just sit back and have no thoughts or voices of their own and that government is just gonna railroad us all... AND it implies that God isn't bigger than the democratic party! they fear obama more than the Lord!

this letter shows me that even focus on the family has a political agenda and cannot be trusted just to give us the facts. they are now (and maybe always have been) slanted and biased, just like NPR is slanted and biased, just like Rush is slanted and biased.
sadly, there's no letter stating what COULD happen if the republicans controlled it all - but i guess we already know what happens then; war, terrorism, murder and violence, unemployment, big business tax breaks, government bailouts, foreclosures on homes, a recession and the 2nd great depression... you get the picture. this letter cemented my presidential vote (not my party vote) because i want to disassociate myself as far as i can from the people who wrote such a hate-filled letter, and then sent it out to people who trusted them and relied on them for truth. they peddled it as truth, and sadly it is a twisting of the truth - you know who else does that? hint - i play him on stage.

the letter got me mad - mad because these things HAVEN'T HAPPENED, but the intent of the letter is to predict they will. this just stirs up fear and with fear comes the fight or flight response. we lose our ability to think clearly and properly, and instead we rely on our adrenaline and preservation instinct. because of this letter, the writers are basically reducing its readers down to primitive animals (christian republicans aren't supposed to believe we evolved from apes, right? then why are they feeding us stuff that implies we're apes?), not the intelligent people God created them to be. we as christians shouldn't be living in fear with our heads in a hole in the dirt. when we do that, guess which parts of us are still exposed and vulnerable? yup - and here i thought christians were supposed to be anti-gay - but when we fear things and hide, we're leaving our targets wide open.
nice visual for ya there. hehe

all that to say, i am no longer afraid of the political future of this country. we, as a church and community of believers, can't be afraid of that future either. we can't live or even vote on the "what if" principles. letters written like the one from focus on the family, in essence, are saying our hope is in government, and not in the Lord. that seems pretty anti-christian to me.

so... what if obama is president?? well, then we as a church better step up and make sure WE have our act together, that WE are instilling morality and decency in our children, that WE take responsibility and stop blaming government control - because based on what focus on the family implies, if obama is president, all hell will break loose.

i want obama to be president because i want change. change in this country, and change in our church. i want the men and women of Christ to stand up and start taking responsibility for themselves and the choices they make - not the votes they cast. there is no responsibility in voting for someone because you cannot control their actions - the only one you can control is you. i want the church to teach truth, and then practice it. i want the church to love on others, and show love to those who don't deserve it. feed those who are hungry, clothe those who are naked, with no hidden agenda of getting them to place membership somewhere, or of saving their souls. i think the church needs to get knocked down a few pegs, realize that being RED doesn't mean being RIGHT, and instead get back to the laws laid down by the Lord as opposed to worrying so much about the government and what they might or might not do.

whew.

by the way- i respect you one million percent. politics or not, you're an amazing woman. i am not personally attacking you. i love you deeply and would never want to hurt you as a person or as family.

drewby

oh - and just for the record, jesus was a democrat. : )~ snicker snicker
(on most issues anyway)
and remember, you are not your political party's sin.

thoughts??

genesis 21.6

2008-07-10T02:07:00.010-04:00

the moment could not be any more perfect than it already is.

waves crashing upon the shore, misty rain hanging the air, a thickly clouded night set ablaze with streaks of lightning shooting across the sky, and keane wafting from my laptop's tiny speakers.

we're here in myrtle beach for a conference. for us, this night marks the end of our portion of the event. in 2 hours we get up and drive to an airport to board a plane which will eventually lead us back home. it's been a nice trip. seems a shame - we're right on the beach and nary a grain of sand has touched my feet. i was not in the mood to hit the shores, or even work on my sexy bronzy tan. no - much of my afternoons were spent on the phone, reading a book, or napping the sunlit hours away. it was nice.

tonight just makes it all the more perfect. there isn't much i love more than a massive thunderstorm. the only way to make it better is to have it over a large body of water. and the atlantic is large enough to call it good. i sit on our balcony and just stare at the horizon, or what i think is the horizon - it's too dark to tell. the occasional explosion of blue/white neon highlights the edge of the world, and for a moment i can see.

i can't explain the lightning's pattern, nor can i explain the beauty. i can't paint a word picture for you to explain how i feel or what i see. it's just something that IS. and i rest so comfortably and peacefully in it. i stare in awe, and wait with anticipation for the next brilliance to blaze overhead, unpredictable and exhilarating, and always taking my breath away just enough to make the anticipation worth it.

something else happened this week that i can't explain, but i think it falls somewhere among the beautiful and the mysterious.

kat talked from stage, for the first time, about a figurine she'd been give a few years back. please take a moment to read this if you're unfamiliar to that of with which i speak : scroll down to Hope Lifts

the thing is that any time we teach a class, and kat talks of this story of God's intimate awareness of his children and their struggles, we will undoubtedly get couples coming up to us afterwards - some trying to encourage us, some sharing their own hearts and past struggles with infertility, some just trying to be fixers and offering solutions (good intentions, poor approach). kat and i will listen to them, we will accept their hugs, we will accept their prayers, and accept their words and the heart in which they speak. some days it's incredibly draining to hear the stories, and others it's incredibly uplifting.

this moment of sharing proved results that were no different than expected. our personal reaction, however, was something none of us could expect.

like clockwork, as soon as we stepped off stage and got ready to pray, a woman was headed our way. tears were in her eyes, her nose was runny, and we braced ourselves for her story.

it was nothing out of the ordinary- very heartbreaking, of course, and all she wanted to do was encourage us not to give up hope. she expressed that she was going thru the same experiences, and that God would not disappoint. she hugged kat, hugged me, wiped her eyes, and she was gone.

kat and i simultaneously burst into laughter.

i didn't get it, and neither did she. we could not stop laughing. we meant no disrespect to the woman, nor were we slighting her story and experiences. ryan and laura were standing there, witnesses to our unexplained rudeness, totally confused as to why we were being such pricks. and neither of us had an answer to give them.

immediately after we settled down and stared blankly at each other, hoping we could elucidate what we were feeling and what just happened, we both thought 'abraham and sarah.'

we've repeatedly been reminded, either by the Lord or by other people, about abraham and sarah. they were old, they were told they'd have children, that they'd father a nation, and they laughed. how absurd to think they'd have anything to do with birthing a nation, let along having kids at their ripe old age. and yet it was the Lord who had the last laugh.

i don't know what it was this time that made us laugh, but i do know that for me, the laughter was out of a place of joy- not out of a place of disbelief. my laughter was not in mocking God, or in scoffing at his promises, but it seemed to lean more towards a confirmation to me that God is SO right on top of things, and he's totally all over this.

i guess maybe it reminded me of how i once felt, all a mess about not having what we wanted. but looking at it from the place where i am now (content, trusting, faith-filled, reassured, patient) i can see how that was me. and maybe it reminded me not of the pain i've felt, but of the joy that will make all the pain worth it someday. these tears this woman cried were tears of anguish and pity and pain. i know abraham and sarah cried the same tears, and even ran ahead of the Lord by exploring other means of conception (can anyone say ishmael? oops!). but it doesn't change the fact that the Lord promised them something - it was then their choice to believe or not believe.

i was overcome with joy when i laughed. i was feeling excitement and hope. i could only think, "i used to cry that hard, but i know i don't need to anymore." i kept thinking that maybe i'm just cracking up, but with each heart check, i realized that no, i wasn't cracking up - i was finally becoming complete. i was taking root to promise, and holding on like it was life.

it was mysterious. it was strangely peaceful and comfortable. i realize my words and explanation don't do the moment justice. but i saw that moment as a flash of God's bright blue/white neon, blazing across the sky. he illuminated a place in my heart that had originally been dark and rainy. it was now lit - and it was beautiful. i still stare at the Lord in awe, and i wait with anticipation for the next streak of brilliance to blow over me - unpredicted and exciting - and i am certain it will take my breath away once again. for the moment, i can see.

and all my anticipation will be worth it.

ant-sized steps

2008-07-04T10:23:00.002-04:00

it's been so so long since i've written anything down. part of this may be due to laziness, part of it to not making the time, part of it possibly to not wanting a record of how i've been feeling. to tell you the truth, i haven't really thought much about how i feel - and maybe that's why i haven't written anything. i don't know what to write. i'm out of touch with my own personal reality. i'm disconnected to the core of me. i've allowed the cares of the world to overstep their place, and i've surrendered myself to their tides. i am easily swayed emotionally these days. i can cry at the drop of a hat, or become enraged with a simple itch in my nose. my jaw is in a perpetual state of clench, and my brow is showing furrows that weren't there a year ago. i don't like this. i don't like showing my age - not because of the gray in my hair, but because of my attitude.

yeah- i've not allowed myself to fully feel or show joy as of late. some in part to circumstances and my willingness to allow them to control me and my emotions. but also because i've partly forgotten what joy truly is, or how to genuinely feel it - and i'm afraid that once i feel it, it will be ripped from me. i am in control mode, trying desperately to have some semblance of control in a chaotic world. if i were born 20 years later, i'd be a cutter right now. but instead i prefer flavored vodka and some trashy reality tv. instead of trying to control, i prefer to try and release, or just let go. having said that, i am recognizing that my desire to release is directly proportional to the amount of alcohol in my bloodstream. and i know this isn't healthy, nor wise since when i wake up from a night of 'letting go a bit,' i feel like shit, and the control has clamped back down in my brain and my jaw is clenched tighter than the night before.

oddly enough, through much of the past year or so, my faith has strengthened and my heart has been filled and revived more times than i can count. i have had more personal and spiritual growth in the last 12 months than i have in the past 12 years combined. is there a correlation here? i am joyless, yet deeper entrenched in my faith? it seems i'm missing something. shouldn't i be more free the deeper i dive into God? the more i learn to see his hand in the mix, the easier it should be to release it all to him.

but at times, my experiences are just the opposite. God shows up, takes care of me, of my situations, and then the next one comes along and i start freaking out. i clench my teeth and swear in my head, and then out loud. i make fists and start glaring at people. i find myself dropping deeper into a pit the more i begin to recognize the presence of the Lord.

i've learned that in an instant - literally an instant - a fun-filled day can turn to shit. and within that same day, anguish can turn back into laughing. my emotions have become a rollercoaster that i'm riding in the dark. i can't see the next turn, the next hill, the next drop, the next corkscrew - but i sure as hell feel it, along with every tiny bump and hitch in the track.

i think the main problem has been my damn emotions. i rely too much on them, i guess. i think most people do - especially in times of uncertainty. when you have no solid footing, you grasp at whatever is around you, and the next logical place to grip is at your heart. but it's true that things can change instantaneously. i'm trying to learn some self-control in the emotions department and quit throwing them in the ring with whatever situation is currently afoot. my emotions get a huge beating every time, and right when i think my opponent is about to be beaten, he tags out, and another fucker gets into the ring, ready to twist me into knots. i have to relearn my strategy, use new moves, reconfigure a game plan, but i haven't recovered yet from the previous fight. that part is exhausting.

the other day as i sat on the throne, trying to go to the bathroom (unsuccessfully, i might add, due to stress and my tightly puckered balloon knot), i saw an ant crawling aimlessly around my feet. tiny little ant, all alone in a giant world of cold tile, grout, scraps of toilet paper, and 2 giant feet ready to end his life on a whim. i watched this ant scurry around me. i didn't know what he was looking for. it certainly wasn't food because there wasn't any around. it seemed to be utterly confused, taking a few steps in one direction, then shifting to the opposite direction. wandering in a valley of mortar for a few steps, then venturing out onto the plane of taupe ceramic tile, only to feel exposed and vulnerable and lost, journeying back again to the safety of the crevices. i watched this tiny creature for a solid 5 minutes, trying to predict which way it would go (which i never predicted correctly), or where its final destination was. i saw this ant traverse about 6 or 7 tiles, always sticking in the same region of the floor. i looked at the vastness of the ground - how much more was out there for the tiny ant to cover - and i wondered what it would take to get the ant to veer off of the self-determined island it was walking, and to venture out to the unexplored tiles only a few inches away.

i'm not going to draw some intricate, holy parallel between the ant and me, or between my perspective and the Lord's perspective, but i am going to acknowledge that just like life, the course can change in an instant. the ant's wanderings were proof enough of that. just when it seemed to be going in a good direction, it would change its course. and i can also say that perspective is everything. from my vantage point, i could see so much more than the ant, see how many directions it could go, and what was out there for it to explore. but right here, and right now, it was somehow bound within these 6 or 7 tiles, and its direction changed instantaneously, even within the small space.

i think that's a little of what's going on with me. my direction is changing multiple times within the same hour, or even minute, and while there's a whole floor out there for me to walk across, i'm bound to these 6 or 7 tiles for one reason or another. given my emotional involvement on a moment by moment basis, it's no wonder i feel out of control. my situations change directions like that ant, and to react, my emotions try to keep up. but when my emotions are full in, they can't keep up. it's like trying to change the direction of a baseball once its left the pitcher's hand. i'm going full speed in one direction, then the situation changes and requires a complete shift in emotional direction. that jarring feeling can really fuck with your head and heart.

so what do i do? not be so emotionally involved? i'm not sure that's the answer. maybe i should keep my perspective open. maybe i could realize that even though my emotional direction changes like the wind, i am still in the same 6 or 7 tiles i was a second ago. my emotional shift doesn't need to be so drastic. my emotional change doesn't have to be so shockingly abrupt or extended. if i remember that from one moment to the next, things will continually change, then realizing the new emotion i begin to experience will eventually need to change, maybe that will make me less prone to hold onto that emotion so tightly. did i say that right?

i am tired of the extremes because they're exhausting me. each situation can still maintain/contain some semblance of joy. i don't have to abandon joy just because my situation went from good to shit in 2 minutes. there's still room for joy, or peace, or calm. maybe this will help even me out a bit. maybe i can roll with the punches a bit easier, and not feel like it's the end of the world every other day. possibly what i'm saying is that i can invest myself in my emotions (both good and bad ones), but when the need comes to change those emotions, i should be willing to let them go with ease, knowing full well i'll eventually end back up needing that emotion again, and that nothing lasts forever in regards to situations. my life is unstable, but i don't have to be. it's ok to not guard my feelings so tenaciously that it feels like i'm being ripped apart at every turn life throws at me. it's ok to feel joy, and not be so aggravated when the situation calls for another emotion, because eventually, i'll get back to joy.

the funny part is that even as i write this, my jaw is clenched and my brow is furrowed. i'm trying to let it all flow, let it go, and have joy in all situations. it's a new undertaking, and i need to make small steps, ant-sized steps.

oh, and about that ant...i didn't squish it when i left.

so i guess already i'm making a little progress.

resurrection

2008-07-04T10:17:00.003-04:00

it took jesus only 3 days.
apparently i'm a slow learner cuz it's taken me 1.5 years to come back from the dead.

yes. i'm going to try my hand at this again.

i miss it.

and i think i need it.

for a friend...

2007-02-04T02:08:00.000-05:00

Man on the Train: Hey, are you a dreamer?
Wiley: Yeah.
Man on the Train: I haven't seen too many around lately. Things have been tough lately for dreamers. They say dreaming is dead, no one does it anymore. It's not dead it's just that it's been forgotten, removed from our language. Nobody teaches it so nobody knows it exists. The dreamer is banished to obscurity. Well, I'm trying to change all that, and I hope you are too. By dreaming, every day. Dreaming with our hands and dreaming with our minds. Our planet is facing the greatest problems it's ever faced, ever. So whatever you do, don't be bored, this is absolutely the most exciting time we could have possibly hoped to be alive. And things are just starting

so funny, you'll puke!

2007-01-17T19:21:00.001-05:00

a touchy-feely anniversary

2006-12-30T00:09:00.000-05:00

10 years.

it doesn't honestly feel like it's been that long, but it has. this past december 22 we celebrated 10 years of marriage with a day at the spa. nothing says "i love you" quite like being rubbed and touched by a total stranger. but i figured it'd be a nice treat - something we'd not usually do for ourselves. so we had our appointments set: me, a back massage at 9am and a back wax at 10. kat, a hair appointment at 10, and a pedicure at 11. following our morning of pampering, we'd get some lunch, do some last minute shopping, grab some coffee, and give each other our christmas presents.

so as the sun crept up, so did we. i've never had a professional massage before, and i was truly looking forward to the tension melting away as someone kneaded my knots into oblivion. i was supposed to be at the spa 15 minutes prior to my appointment to fill out paperwork and whatnot and of course we were running slightly late. not the most relaxing way to begin a day of relaxing spa treatments.

upon arrival (only 5 minutes late) i'm ushered through a large oak door, back into the exclusive spa side of the building. i'm handed an off-white waffled terrycloth robe and pair of tube socks and escorted to the gentlemen's changing room. as the young 20-something begins to walk away, i sheepishly ask, "so...underwear? no underwear?" she turns and smiles, "whichever you're comfortable with." and with a flip of her hair she walks away, leaving me alone with my robe.

the pressure was on. underwear? no underwear? is it appropriate? what do i do? i was the only man in the building, let alone in the changing room, so i had no one to go to for guidance. as i took my clothes off and hung them in the locker, i decide to go sans undies, reasoning that if i'm gonna spend this much money for a massage, i want to experience all there is to experience, including the freedom of being, well - free.

i slip out of my attire, slip into my robe and socks, and await my masseur. flipping idly thru a magazine next to my waiting chair, mindful of crossing my legs and giving an eyeful to the woman sitting in her robe across from me, i am soon greeted by kristen and her tiny hands of magic.

kristen leads me back down a serene hallway to a room that emanated the scent of lavender and wax, the mellow tones of a bad native american new-age cd falling from speakers hidden in the ceiling, and the trickle of a tiny desktop waterfall which instantly made me have to pee. kristen turns to me, pulls back the covers of the massage table and instructs me to slip out of my robe, that i can leave my undergarments and socks on, or take them off, to slide under the covers and she'd return shortly.

as the door closes, i disrobe and hang my covering on the back of the door. now the dilemma about socks. should i leave them on? if i leave my feet covered, but leave my johnson uncovered, is that sending mixed signals? doesn't that put me in the same category as flashers and perverts? but if i take my socks off, what if my feet get cold? i can't relax if my feet are cold, and then i've just instantly wasted the money for this massage, all because of cold feet. at this point i'm wishing to God i'd left my underwear on.

with socks still in place, i slide under the sheets, face down on the padded table, and adjust my unit to a comfortable position. a moment later and kristen comes back in, ready to begin. she folds the blanket down so the top of my ass crack is on display, and i feel her edge the blanket up just a little higher, as if she was doing a quick but discrete boxer check, and finding me without, she decides to cover the crack back up. i felt uncomfortable. and suddenly i felt like i had to fart. oh Lord in heaven, please don't let me fart. i am begging with all that is in me - don't let me toot. my anus clamped shut like a gator on a monkey and i kept praying.

she begins to rub my shoulders, my back, my neck, and soon i don't care one bit that i'm naked as a jay bird. it was amazingly soothing, my face pressed deep into that donut pillow that hangs off the end of massage tables, my mouth open and drool starting to drip from my lower lip. within 5 minutes of this, i was totally comfortable, enjoying the touch, enjoying the elbows grinding into my back knots. kristen worked my upper and lower back, each side of my spine, my shoulders, my arms, hands, palms, and forearms. she slowly rolled the blanket up over my back, the warmth of the electric blanket relaxing me more and more, and she focused exclusively on my neck. i felt awesome as i laid there a few minutes. kristen walks to the far end of the table, reaches up and slips my socks off my feet and i lay completely naked, completely relaxed. then i felt the covers move.

along my right side, i feel a breeze. i realize my right ass cheek is exposed. as is my entire right leg. she's tucked the blanket around the inside of my thigh, keeping my junk concealed, my crack barely hidden by the edge of the blanket. i feel kristen's fingers start to rub the back of my thigh. not expecting this lower region massage i was totally taken off guard. her hands run up and down, each pass along the inside of my thigh coming inches from happyland. i was holding my breath and clenching my trap door tight, knowing i'd damn well better not let one slip now. she moved down to the calf, the ankle, the foot and i began to relax.

once she finished with the right leg, she recovered the right side of my body, moved to the left side, and began the same process of exposure. only then did i remember that i hang left. as she tucked the blanket under and around the inside of my thigh, i tried to block the image of her trying to nudge my protuberance out of her way. she began working up my left leg, starting with my foot, followed by the ankle and calf, and then right up there into the great unknown. her hands ran up and down, massaging the inner thigh, and some very interesting things started happening to my body, which i'm sure was explained to you one day back in 6th grade health class.

i think it was a combination of my state of muscular relaxation, the scent of lavender in the air, the lotion all over my body, the warm blankets, all mixed with the unexpected, semi-rough manhandling (womanhandling?) my body was getting right in the tender zone, and the mere fact i was naked, hanging left, and millimeters from being felt up. it was like a high school band trip all over again. soon enough, the flag was at half mast.

she ended this pleasure/torture, covered me back up and i breathed a sigh of relief. kristen stood at my left, leaned over my body, and whispered to me, "i'm going to lift the blanket up. at that time, scoot down and flip over onto your back." without hesitation, she draped herself over me to reach the edge of the blanket and raised it up high in front of her face. i was met with a rush of cold air, and a freeing feeling of being on a nude beach in late may. i flipped over, now almost at 3/4 mast, and prayed to God in heaven that she'd leave some extra blanket bunched up right in my groin region, just to mask my manifestation a bit.

no such luck.

she laid the blanket back over me and turned to grab a pillow to place under the back of my knees. as she turned, i took a glance down the outline of my body to see how evident the evidence was. no question about it; i was pointing left and it showed. screw worrying about passing gas, THIS was now the focus of my prayer.

kristen started with my right side, rolling the blanket back so my hip bone, a bit of man hair, and left leg were exposed. she started massaging my right thigh, and i began to concentrate. my attention shifted from the bulge below my belt to mentally forcing my blood to flow to the other extremities of my body, the ones that wouldn't show so much.

my anxiety, and my man mast, fell as she went further south, away from my bullseye. i tried to reassure myself that she was a professional, that this sort of thing happened all the time, that maybe she didn't even notice my mound. i was starting to relax, to go soft, to enjoy the massage again, and i realized i could now return to praying that i wouldn't pass gas.

then she moved to the left leg. rolling the sheet back from my leg, i realized that i was still pointing left. how was she gonna make this happen gracefully? my hipbone had a friend resting on it, and as she began rolling the fabric back, i noticed she tactfully shifted me with the help of the blanket. i was now strategically pointed a bit south instead of due east.

as kristen worked from my foot up to my ankle up to my calf, my body turned on me. as those fingers inched closer to my thigh, my blood was rushing to the same region to meet them. sure enough, as her hands began to work the inner part of flesh, my pet monster decided to say hello. i was at about 80% and i felt a light breeze. apparently i was poking out from the blankets. and just as i poked out, i felt a finger or two poke back.

she grazed me.

i don't know if it was knuckle, finger, thumb, back of the hand, whether it was intentional, unintentional, who cares. all i know is i got tipped on my 10 year anniversary. instantly i wanted to laugh, but i held my composure as she finished trying to maneuver past my pal. this didn't so much turn me on as make me think "is she gonna tell her friends about this? cuz i sure as hell am!"

for the next 10 minutes, my lower body remained covered (thank God) as kristen placed a warm eye pillow over my peepers and began massaging the top of my head. i was in a full-toothed grin by this point, knowing full well that she and i were now more than just acquaintances - we made it to first base.

a few minutes later, kristen instructed me to wait as long as i wanted, and when i was ready, i could get dressed, and then she left. i laid there a few minutes, relaxing, laughing, trying not to be embarrassed, thankful i didn't fart. as i wrapped back up into my robe and stepped outside into the hall, i was awkwardly met by kristen, and two other female staff whom she was talking to. i felt like i caught them off guard, because as i stepped into the hall, they seemed to get quiet, and seemed to blush just slightly. or maybe that was just my imagination. kristen handed me a glass of water, and smiled. instantly i got self-consious and assumed i knew their entire conversation. in my mind, their hallway conversation went something like:

"you should have seen this guy i just rubbed down."
"yeah? what happened?"
"he popped wood on me!"
"yeah?? and???"
"so worth it!" as she holds aloft her hands, displaying ample space between them.
*big grins all around*

i wondered when i'd get to share this with kath, knowing she'd laugh hard (no pun) and i headed into my waxing appointment with tatiana, the tiny russian sadist - which was without incident i might add. following my session , i took a shower to cool off and gain my composure. as i walked out of the gentlemen's changing room, i see kath sitting in the waiting area, in her off-white waffled terrycloth robe and white tube socks, sipping tea and awaiting her pedicure. i grinned huge and then sat next to her to tell the touching tale.

she laughed. hard.

as kath went to get her toes done, i got up to leave the spa and run a few errands. as i stood to go, i caught a glimpse of kristen again, walking away with another client. i thanked her and smiled, and maybe it was just my imagination, but i swear she smiled back at me with that "i-know-what-you've-got" grin. i blushed and turned to leave. as i did, i seemed to feel the gaze of each staff member fall on me, trying to see thru my clothes, trying to undress me with their eyes, and i swear i heard whispers and a few gasps.

or maybe it was just my imagination.

all i want for xmas...

2006-12-19T23:51:00.000-05:00

might be too late, but here's my list.

drewsmith's Wish List by drewsmith

most beautiful

2006-12-02T00:28:00.000-05:00

you know the show will be good...

2006-11-08T05:52:00.000-05:00

there have been many firsts in my life. first kiss, first auto accident, first love, first broken bone, first sip of wine, first time out of the country.

here's a recent addition:

i had a sponsor offer to smoke a bowl with me.

praise God.

an early winter, an early thaw

2006-09-21T21:38:00.000-04:00

A giant funk has come over me as of late. not too sure what has caused it. it could be the incredible upheaval our worlds are going thru, or perhaps the instability of my day to day life. we've been going thru some pretty insane things (zero of which are world-shattering; it's been like that movie "a series of unfortunate events" minus the 'unfortunate' part - just one thing after another with no respite in between) and i think it's taking a toll on me. i'm feeling creatively dead inside- hence the lack of postings as of late. and i guess that's ok for the time being. i do hope it passes soon.

it feels like my heart, my creative spirit, is already in the middle of winter, frozen in place. it's not that my heart is cold, i'd call it a grey 'blah,' the winter doldrums, more than anything. but i know this is a phase, a season, and won't last forever.

we drove out to syracuse ny last weekend. if you've ever been to syracuse, you know the drive is not exactly scenic, nor is it comfortable, nor is it cheap. we spent a total of $45 on toll roads in the state of new york alone. that's a bit high, i'd say. but we paid it anyway.

i awoke friday morning, and i do mean morning - 7am morning - of last week to the sound of rain pelting down on the roof of the bus. it was dreary and soothing and somehow comforting, but i had no time to fall back asleep to its rhythm. instead, i had to drive. we were just outside buffalo and had to be in syracuse in a few hours. there was little time to spare. so i hopped out of bunk and began to try and wake myself up a bit. and after a bowl of cocoa pebbles growing soggy in soy milk i poured a pot of coffee down my throat and started heading east.

it was quiet that morning which was nice. everyone was still asleep until about 9 am when eden woke up and dragged her mother out of bed as well. they sat on the couch behind me, watching the WonderPets, as i focused on the road in front of me, barely visible thru a blurry, bug-smeared, rain-spattered windshield. i had turned on some great 80's music on our sirius radio system - somehow perfect for a morning like this.

after tv time ended, eden started coming up to the front of the bus and talking to me. she's a pretty articulate 2.5 yr old, but still not the easiest to understand while going down the highway at a jaunty 68 mph. so i asked if she wanted to come sit up front with me. she got strapped into the copilot's position, her tiny feet not able to reach past the edge of the seat, and she stared in awe and wonder at the rain streaking along the window to her right.

there we sat in silence for a few miles, her eyes glazing over, not knowing whether to focus on the raindrops or the cows in the field. she looked over at me and smiled. "is that where they grow corn?" she asks. i look to my right and see a corn field. "yup- that's the place." she seemed content with herself.

"dew, i wanna listen to a sim-fee"

"a what?"

"a sim-fee!"

"um, i'm so sorry- what do you want?"

"a SIM FEE!- please?"

i taught eden about music one afternoon as we sat in a car together, the local public radio station belting out some top 40 tune from about 200 years ago. she asked me what we were listening to and i told her a symphony. the resulting words from her lips were - sim fee.

"no no- say sim"

"sim"

"phone"

"pone"

"knee"

"DEE!"

"close enough. now say it all together."

"SIMFEE!"

perfect.

i have no clue how little minds work. what amazes me is the retention they have for things. the other week eden reminded me of when aunt kassy went in the room and got a tattoo before she was born, and i was hungry and eden was hungry, and we went to get food together. once i was able to piece together what she was saying and finally understood what she was talking about. the whole 'before she was born' thing was throwing me. but as i processed what this tiny mouth was saying, i realized she was absolutely correct. kathlene had gone to get a tattoo, and we took eden along. during that time, eden and i got hungry so we walked to steak and shake and shared a plate of fries, as well as a strawberry milkshake. i was getting hung up on this 'before she was born' thing until it hit me; kathlene's tattoo, when translated, reads something like "the land you were from before you were born." obviously that was a sticking point for a 2 yr old.

"OOH! you wanna hear a symphony!"

"yeth!"

i turn the sirius radio to the classical stations and let the music fill the cab of the truck. eden was content now, sucking her thumb, playing with her pony tail, looking out the window at the passing hills and corn and horses and cars. after a moment or two, she turns to me, points out the window, and in a tiny excited voice proclaims,

"i see a castle!"

"a what??"

the rain had lightened up a bit, almost now down to a spotty drizzle. there was nothing out the window except a field and some big rocks, maybe a tree or two.

"i see a castle!"

"um...i don't see anything out there eden. where do you see it?"

"in the simfee!!"

it caught me off guard. she's seeing invisible things in a song- and then i look at the radio display to see what piece was on -

Tchaikovsky: Sleeping Beauty

"you see a castle in the music?"

"yeah. and a pwincess!"

just then, the sun broke thru the clouds, setting the verdant ground ablaze with color, radiant against a backdrop of darkened wet sky, the red and yellow and orange of a prematurely changing tree dancing lightly in the breeze, its image reflected in a still pond, and that block of ice inside my chest that often passes for a heart thawed enough to remind me its winter is almost done.

when good quilters go bad

2006-08-02T00:36:00.000-04:00

so we were in arizona last week for a conference on the campus of NAU in Flagstaff. it was a lovely campus, with a great little downtown within walking distance. honestly, it was one of the greatest places on earth that week as the temperature didn't go over 90 the entire time. must have had something to do with the location being nestled below a mountain or something. anyway, we were having a great time fighting the crowd to get into the cafeteria on campus for lunch. not only was there a youth convention going on, but we shared the campus with a volleyball camp, a bunch of men in kilts blowing bagpipes, and a quilters camp. quite an odd assortment.

one afternoon at lunch, i filled my plate with french fries and sauntered over to the ketchup and mustard station to squirt on the condiments to make my meal complete. there i was, freshly showered, in a new shirt i had picked up in town, feeling good, enjoying the day, looking forward to a tasty lunch of french fries, cottage cheese, and orange jell-o, and i step up to apply the lycopene-laden substance to my starchy, fried entree.

a salt-and-pepper haired woman with gelatinous pink lipstick walked up next to me, looking to be in her mid 60's, carrying her tray of food, her teal, oversized t-shirt displaying some witty saying which professed her quilting obsession to all who took the time to read her chest (sadly, i did read her chest- that's how i know what it said. don't ask me why i looked at her chest in the first place because i have no believable answer to that question), and she began to pump out the mustard. i politely smiled, said hello, and she raised her head up to peer at me with robin's egg blue eyes hidden behind sizable, archaic glasses.

"what are you wearing?" she asked me. this caught me off guard. how did she know i had a new t-shirt on? i had just gotten it so it was new to me, but she would have no way of knowing this tidbit of trivia. i quickly scrutinized the front of myself to check for a price tag peeking out from somewhere, or perhaps a size sticker left over from the store. my eyes made a slow path back up to hers and my face must have given away my confusion. she rolled her eyes behind her bulky frames and asked me again, "what are you wearing?"

"clothes?" i reply.

"no- what's that smell?" she switched from spurting mustard to ketchup.

"ohh- my cologne, i guess." i explained.

"ugh, it smells awful!" she turns and walks away.

...

"Well," i retort, "thank you very much for making me feel so good about myself today! i appreciate you!"

maybe not the most stunning comeback, but at least i said something. and, with a room full of church kids watching me, i think this was a wise choice compared to what i COULD have said- none of which would have been fit to utter in the presence of minors.

thank you Jesus for controlling my tongue. i do pray she gets a knot in her blind stitch, just once, and she thinks of me.

dutch addiction

2006-07-30T19:51:00.000-04:00

so, i must tell you all about the greatest drink i've found on the road. it's the Sugar Free Von Dutch Energy Drink - and today i hit the mother load!

coffee can get a little tiresome after a few pots (plus it'll give you the squirts if you're not careful), so for extra zip, i pound down a Sugar Free Von Dutch Energy Drink. packed with vitamins B2, B3, B5, B6 and B12, taurine, caffeine, glucuronolactone and inositol it's a tangy meal in a can! and at only 10 calories per serving, it's gentle on the waistline too!

the problem is that i can't always find these tasty liquid meals in a can. so far the only place i can spot them on a regular basis is at a Flying J. and unfortunately, the Sugar Free Von Dutch Energy Drink tends to be a bit more scarce than the standard, sugar-loaded Von Dutch Energy Drink. and i'm just not willing to put that much liquid sugar in my body at one time. so when i find the Sugar Free Von Dutch Energy Drink i tend to stock up.

my first experience trying the Sugar Free Von Dutch Energy Drink was a few months ago when they were on sale 2/ $3. i bought 2 and ended up drinking them both that night. well, this stuff is like crack for me i guess. i needed more. now. but the 2/ $3 sale was for a limited time and quickly the price went up to $2.29 a can. with me living on a budget, i cried a little inside at only purchasing one at a time.

we just left the Flying J in nowheresville missouri and i decided to bite the bullet and buy 4 for the rest of the summer. knowing the price would amount to almost $10, i walked up to the counter and grimaced as Linda, the Flying J cashier, rang them up. and then, jesus smiled on me.

"458 please." my ears deceived me, i'm sure. i handed her a $20 and sure enough, i got $15 back. i got my receipt back and it said:

Sugar Free Von Dutch Energy Drink 2/$2.29

OH JOY!!

i gave jamie a 5$ and said, "pick me up 4 more please! and make sure you go to Linda. she's giving these away at a great price!"

before we leave, i might run back in and get a few more. i've already finished my first and i've got 4 more days of travel to go.

i am so happy. thank you Sugar Free Von Dutch Energy Drink. thank you for bringing joy to my imbibing experience!

a plea for prayers

2006-07-19T23:33:00.000-04:00

i've put off blogging for a little while. my reasons? i don't really know. it hasn't been intentional. i guess i just haven't felt like writing much. there haven't been too many of those funny, quirky stories to tell as one might hope. and to be perfectly honest, it's been one struggle after another. not much fun in reading about that now, is there?

and this post won't be too much fun either. but i do hope it will be fruitful.

the Lord has been really talking to be about healing. not the 'smack you on the forehead' healing, but the type that's much less showy and much more personal, important, and life-saving. God has been placing several people into my life and the common thread that holds them together in my mind and heart is that they are ill. not the sniffles type of ill. the type that kills. the type that sounds like breast cancer, and extreme jaundice in a newborn. it sounds like the type of illness that if you don't wake up within 24 hours from your coma, you will never open your eyes again.

in talking about healing, i know i'm opening myself up to some mysticism and some ridicule. i'm exposing a side of faith that isn't talked about much outside of sunday morning when the announcement guy runs down the checklist of prayer requests for the sick and shut-ins. i am speaking into uncharted territory (personally) and opening up great opportunity for debates. but i need your help right now. actually- i don't necessarily need help, but i covet your prayers, whether you believe in healing or not.

there have been about 4 or 5 people specifically that i've been lifting up in prayer on a daily, and sometimes hourly basis. i'm not one to be praying much. i don't do the 5 am marathon prayer session for our nation, my family, my job, my finances (although maybe i should start doing that) but when the mood strikes to pray, by george i start throwing those prayers up as far and fast as my feeble faith will send them. i've had some great drives across missouri - somehow those miles flew by as my heart poured out for people far away from me. i have wept openly about some of the life situations these people are in; at the unfairness of it, at the pain and heartache an illness is causing, at the idea of not having them around anymore.

so far, i have been witness to some amazing recoveries. i have been blessed to hear how God is taking the worst situations and is healing the people i love. the prayers haven't stopped however. they will continue. but i am asking for your prayers for one person in particular. his name is Adam.

over the past few months, i've talked to adam on a nightly basis, sometimes until the wee hours of the morning. it started when i learned he had suffered a minor stroke on may 7th. this stroke didn't paralyze him, but it did affect his speech and memory quite a bit, as well as mess up his motor skills and coordination. i began speaking with him just over a week after this massive stroke. i'd call him every night, and he'd read to me. this was to re-engage parts of his brain that had been toyed with by the stroke, as well as begin jogging his memories of the past. the problem with his memory is that he had forgotten a lot of things. he had no memory of his best friend dying in a car accident last summer, or of his favorite grandfather dying just over a year ago. he didn't know what day it was ever - kept thinking it was the 7th of May, a sunday, and he had to order flowers for mother's day. he kept trying to "crawl out" of his head, and we learned this to mean he felt trapped inside his brain, his words not coming out like they used to. he felt lost inside of his own body, unable to speak properly, remember properly, think or act properly.

the reason this stroke came on was because he has a rare bone marrow disease. i can't remember the name, but he'll tell you all about it. he's very intelligent, by the way - 4.0 from U of M, double major in something impressive (wish i could remember right now). but this bone marrow disease will slowly begin turning his marrow to scar tissue. his marrow will produce an over-abundance of white blood cells, while at the same time produce very weak and too few red blood cells. this causes 2 types of damage. one, the white blood cells clog up his arteries, which cause blockages at crucial points in his body, like in his brain where the over-abundance of white cells create pressure on the brain, making his brain do odd things. and 2, the blockages are forcing his heart to beat harder to push the blood along, causing his heart to enlarge because it's working so hard, causing high blood pressure, which in turn puts him at a higher risk for heart attacks and strokes, which is also increased by the weak red blood cells not being able to carry O2 to the brain and other vital organs. On top of this, his liver is failing since it's trying so hard to clean out the blood. currently his liver is at 60% from what i understand.

I found out yesterday that because of the lack of O2 to his brain, there is cerebeller degeneration ( http://www.ninds.nih.gov/disorders/cerebellar_degeneration/cerebellar_degeneration.htm ) which is irreversible. on top of this, his parents have now determined to split up. they just told him today. by the way, did i mention he's only 24?

this guy has been thru a lot in his life- more than you or i - and has had life shit on him for as long as he can remember. so now is a perfect time to start praying specifically for him.

i'm petitioning you all, each who reads this, friend, family or stranger, to pray for the following:

* a reversal in the brain degeneration. i know you can't grow back brain cells, but i also believe in a God who is bigger than science and the laws that govern it. pray against this brain loss and for complete healing of his mind. doctors have said he will have lost the ability to do basic things like dress himself and brush his teeth, as well as lose memories, both short and long term, and eventually the brain will forget how to cause his organs to work, resulting in death, all of this within 6 to 8 months. pray against this with every fiber you have.

* a total healing of his blood. pray the white cell count would return to normal (around 16k - currently he's at about 1 million) allowing the blood to circulate easier. also that his red cells would become stronger and better able to carry O2 to his organs

* pray that his bone marrow disease would be cured. there is currently no cure other than a marrow transplant, and so far no matches have been found, but then again, God is bigger than that.

* pray his liver would be healed, heart would return to normal size, and his high blood pressure would disappear.

* pray for his family. this is all taking a toll on them - especially his mom and dad. as irony would have it, adam's dad is a heart doctor, and his mom is a neurologist. the 2 main organs they study for a living and here is their oldest son, suffering from disorders of both. it just sucks.

Now, you may be tempted to pray for God's will in this situation. i am asking that instead you petition God for what it is you (and i) want- that is total healing. head to toe, total health. the parable in the scripture of the woman who kept going before the judge, petitioning him, and eventually the judge relented and granted her request. i am gripping onto this parable, trusting that God not only is good, but he cares, and he desired good things for his people.

it's easy to get caught up in an idea of odds and stats, medical opinions, tests, biopsies, medication and forget that we serve a God who created all of those things. he can bend things at will- make dead bones rise up, cause the sun to stand still, shake the mountains, part the sea, turn water to wine - and so with that, i ask you to come before the Lord, remind Him of his promises, of His power, and of His ability to turn even the worst situations over to bring Himself glory. Pray that the healing power of Jesus would fill Adam's room, that Adam would encounter a living God, and that this young man's life would become an incredible testimony for the power that is God. trust me, his life is one that movies are made about- and having the Lord come in, intervene and heal...it would make an amazing and powerful testimony, kicking Death right square in the nuggets!

Thank you in advance for your prayers. i know you don't know this guy, but please allow his pain to sink into your heart, and let his name be on your mind. this is a war and it's not gonna be over for a while. so i am asking a lot of you by keeping him in prayer for so long. i will do my best to update as often as new information comes along.

well, let's see what God's gonna do now. anybody with me?

stories from camp

2006-06-21T00:30:00.000-04:00

that's right. this week we're at a camp. a sports camp. just picture it. me...at a camp...for sports. sure, it's a christian camp and we're here to provide the morning devo time *which by the way is at SEVEN A.M.! even God isn't up then!* but the entire day is devoted to playing sports. it still doesn't compute in my brain as to how we got here. yet here we are. day 2. and already i want to go home.

not trying to be negative, just saying i detest camp. i had awful experiences with summer camp when i was a child. absolutely horrid. heck, not just when i was a child, but also when i was in high school and college.

there were many times we went to camps for the summer when i traveled with a singing group. examples of the nightmares there include having an allergic reaction to some type of plant or weed, not being able to breath, then grabbing a huge leaf to blow my nose on, only to discover the leaf i was trying to clear my nose into was the very thing that was giving me the allergic reaction in the first place. imagine pollen shooting up my already stuffed nose, and me gagging to breathe, while snot and pollen oozed down the back of my throat, choking me on its descent. i had to shower for an hour, literally, to try and clear up my nose enough to breath and shake that feeling of drowning in my own mucus.

another camp story involves me being a counselor one summer as a favor to my church. i was under the age of 18, so i got put in charge of the 3rd and 4th graders. not a good age in my opinion. little did i know that one kid who showed up was sick with the stomach flu. in a cabin of 10 kids, stomach flu tends to spread pretty quickly. and, of course, for 2 nights straight, the kitchen decided to serve pasta dishes for dinner. the first night spaghetti, the second, lasagna. have you ever tried to clean up half digested spaghetti from between the floor boards of an already moldy, dirty, decrepit old cabin at 2am? i have. oh yes, i have.

I can recall moments from my youth being forced to play dodgeball at summer camp. i was the target most of the time. apparently everyone on the other team were mentally linked like the borg, and they all aimed for the same person, me, and the same location on the person, my head. i didn't have many kids my own age that went to my church, and the ones that did go to my church were all girls, so when church camp time came, i was the only boy in my cabin who knew me. add to that me being the only kid in my cabin who hadn't hit puberty yet, and being forced to shower in a concrete, spider infested, no hot water, community shower room with no separators between shower heads. that concept still eludes me. why, for the love of God do they have community showers in a church camp? are they TRYING to promote shame, embarrassment, and/or homosexual lust? i'm just asking.

well i'm trying to make the best of my time here. i truly am. i'm trying to have a positive attitude. i'm trying to interact with the kids. i'm trying to be available if they have questions, or need someone to sit with them during lunch. i'm trying to be the best me i can be. but it's getting difficult.

tonight the camp did Fear Factor and they called me up to participate. junior high boys LOVE this fear factor stuff, and since i was assigned to help facilitate a group of jr. high boys, (come back jesus, please) i figured i'd be wise to participate in this. what was my challenge? eat a diaper full of shit.

it wasn't actual shit, but it sure looked and smelled like it. they took liverwurst, sauerkraut, mustard, strained peas, sardines, and one other mystery ingredient, blended it all up, and placed it in a diaper. i gotta tell you...it was pretty life-like. the challenge, of course, was to eat what was in the diaper without puking. staff versus the students. i think 2 of the students threw up, and one of the staff threw up a little too. but she kept it in her mouth.

but here's the kick in the crotch of this week's camp experience so far.

as you may or may not know, i've been on some herbs that are meant to cleanse my colon from the inside out. when i take these pills, i am sure to be in need of a bathroom soon after. that being said, typically the first place i search out is the nearest restroom facility. i look for a comfy, cozy spot somewhere far removed from kids, adults, distractions, so i can relieve myself in peace. as many times as necessary. which, while on these pills, is somewhere around 5 to 6 times a day, depending on how many i take. the more i take, the more i poop.

the bathrooms at camp are never pretty. i think that's a general rule they set up in the design phase of any camp. it seems they ask themselves, "what's the most uncomfortable way we can set this bathroom up in order to not only gross out every person who steps in here, but also make it one of the most embarrassing experiences of their life?" and the main bathroom in the dorm we're staying in is no different.

there are no urinals in the men's bathroom. just 2 stalls. 2 stalls with toilets that were put in crooked. now, if you know my pet peeves, you know i'm kind of a perfectionist when it comes to lining things up. it's one of my anal qualities. so when sitting askew on the throne, i am filled with angst and disgruntlement- not a pretty picture for sure. ok, so there are no urinals, only 2 crooked toilets, so i'm sure you can imagine that with over 120 kids having access to these commodes, many of them have not been properly trained as to raising the toilet seat, and just as many of those who don't raise the lid, also have very poor aim.

now, if you actually get a chance to sit down on these toilets when they're clean, you're doing good. mind you, i search out the cleanest of the 2 at least five times a day. i'm getting to be a pro here. i've almost completely marked my territory now.

oh- i forgot to mention something to you. these toilet stalls...they don't have doors. oh no, a door would afford you too much privacy apparently. in leu of a door, they place a shower curtain. that's right, a thin sheet of plastic or cloth (depending on which stall you enter) separating you and all your business from whomever decides to enter while you're unloading your heavy burdens.

during one of my trips to this most humiliating of rooms, i chose stall number one, the cloth stall. it's a nice dark navy blue color that you can see out of from behind it slightly when the bathroom lights are on, but no one can see in. it's raised off the floor about 5 inches, so if you're looking for an open john, you can spy someone else's shoes poking out if that one is occupied. if you're on the pot, you can see someone approaching and brace yourself. and this was now my predicament.

i'm sitting there, minding my own business, doing my business, when i hear an old man with a phlegm problem walk in. he's about 70, dirty white hair cut in a loose crew cut, massive beer gut, wide suspenders holding up his denim cut-off shorts, white mid-calf socks encasing his feet, which are nestled in some of those old man corduroy slippers. he had a stained light blue tee shirt on that was wearing thin with years of abuse, and he moved like his hips were bothering him; more of a waddle than a walk. i discover later his name is Benny and he's the camp maintenance guy. he's been there for over 40 years. and it shows.

i can see, through my curtain, Benny shuffle up to my stall and bend over slightly, looking under the shower curtain for any signs of toes to signal "occupied" - i wiggled my toes and even managed to shuffle my feet and make a sniffle-cough noise so he'd know he wasn't alone in the room. he took 3 more steps to the next stall, the one with the open plastic shower curtain, unzipped, and strained to get the flow going, his prostate refusing to relax.

a few trickles, then a bit of a stream. i start to feel a little sorry for this guy. i'd hate to not be able to pee when i needed to. he finishes and flushes, and i see him start to shuffle past me, on his way out the door. i faux-sniffle again, to reassure him i was still there, and i watch as his eyes look at the shower curtain that is separating him and i. just a thin sheet of material protects me from an old man's prying eyes.

he makes a reaching motion for the curtain, and i cough slightly, clear my throat, to make sure he knows this stall is occupied, my heart pounding with fear of exposure, my lungs freeze up. i guess he got the picture, because i then see him start to move forward again, past me, on his way out, his slippered feet shuffling. i start to breathe again, feeling confident this near encounter was now complete.

that's when i notice he's walking back. apparently his curiosity was to be satisfied. he needed to kill the proverbial cat. so he takes one step backwards, and my life went into slow motion.

his right hand reached out, thick, sausage-like fingers stretched out for the fabric, the shower curtain, my protector, barrier and shield. before i could utter another sound, he found the edge of the material, and threw it aside, as if he was trying to bust in on two kids making out. alas, no one was making out except my ass cheeks and the white porcelain ring they sat upon. my hand reached up to hold the edge of the curtain in place, but i was too late. it moved to one side and Benny's head peered in. and our eyes met.

his eyes got as large as canadian bacon behind his thick rimmed glasses, and my eyes shot back a glare of hatred mixed with intolerance and embarrassment. "oh..um...uhh...mm...sss...sorry" he muttered under his breath, and i responded, "yeah..."

so so much could have been said in that moment, and all i could mutter was "yeah?" how lame am i!! i should have been better prepared for this moment. it was bound to happen. i could have said, "what's up you perv?!" or "it's true, there's someone in here," or "you satisfied yet?" or even "take a picture, it'll last longer" and all i managed to get out was ... yeah. i guess i figured he'd gotten the hint that someone was in there, given the fact that he saw my toes sticking out from the blue curtain, heard me cough, sniffle, and shuffle my feet.

Benny has not looked at me again this week. each time i see him, he hangs his head down and avoids my gaze. i'm glad of that. the one place you should NOT be sticking your nose where it doesn't belong is in a bathroom stall at a camp. maybe he's retarded. maybe he gets into the whole bathroom scene. maybe i was in 'his stall' and he wanted to punish me. whatever the reason, i now want to hold in my excrement for the rest of the week, just to avoid a situation like this from happening again.

and to think moments before, my anal retentiveness was bad enough when i learned the toilets weren't set straight. now i gotta worry about clenching shut for another 2 days. jesus, give me strength.

i think i might cut back on the pills.

has it been this long?

2006-06-17T02:17:00.000-04:00

well, judging by the last post, it's been damn near forever since i told anyone what was going on.

and unfortunately this post isn't gonna be much help. it's not that i haven't had anything going on. in fact, almost too much is going on. and that might be the reason i haven't had much to say. it gets all clogged up.

i'd like to fill you all in on the past month, but it will take forever. maybe i'll start in the next update (hopefully sooner than later). but until then, enjoy a copy of the email i got today. it might just spark some interesting discussion around the dinner table for you tonight.

i'll post more soon. i promise!

From: xidrew@onetimeblind.org
Subject: sup uncle
Date: June 15, 2006 10:35:55 PM GMT-04:00
To: drew@onetimeblind.org
Reply-To: xidrew@onetimeblind.org

'Call us today'

1'2'0'6-984-4433

24 hours a day, 7 days a week including Sundays and Holidays

Chat Later

That farmer is not missing reading..
i need to get a pedicure. my feet smell and itch.
Don't you hate running carelessly?.
She has disliked cooking for a day or two..
But this is where you come in: Between now and November, you, the American people, you can reject the tired, old, hateful, negative politics of the past. And instead you can embrace the politics of hope, the politics of what's possible because this is America, where everything is possible..
today i need to goto the store. .
Have you already loved sleeping?.
Joseph doesn't dislike praying carelessly..
Mr. Hanson isn't practicing working..
Does Joe hate laughing over there?.
Betty Sue wasn't enjoying working..
John was enjoying sleeping near the tree..
And what were the results? Let me tell you some stories:.
Don't you frequently dislike shaving?.
I am enjoying eating in the river..
Doesn't Suzanne like skiing among the trees?.

Later,
Velma Love

excuse me waiter, there's a fly in my drink

2006-05-19T00:14:00.000-04:00

life has been busy as of late. i'm sure you surmised that with the absence of posts. i've decided to at least give you all an update so you can finally breathe again. it's springtime in michigan which means only one thing: more cold weather. i want spring to arrive in all its glory. i yearn to sit outside and listen to the frogs, the crickets, the hum of the earth in its growth. i like to relax in the summer eve. sip a drink, listen to music, enjoy the night sky. so i decided tonight to set up camp outside in the freshly shorn backyard.

i did some much needed landscaping yesterday. the weeds were as high as an elephant's eye and it was time to do some yard work. armed with my one year old weed wacker (officially called a trimmer/edger, just so you don't embarrass yourself by going into home depot and asking for a wacker), i blazed a trail in our 15 x 20 foot fenced-in yard. it went well, with only a minor asthma/allergy attack. a quick shower and benadryl took care of that in about an hour. my plan was to use the spring and summer months enjoying my tiny little crabgrass and dandelion utopia. it's the only land i own, so why not use it?

tonight i had some time to kill (got tired of watching tv - can you imagine?!) and i need to get some writing done. so i set up shop outside. a folding chair, an end table, a lamp, cigar, lighter, and laptop accompany me and a nice chilled glass of vodka out into the brisk spring air. i find a patch of level ground and set up camp. my laptop is open, light is plugged in (via extension cord), i blaze up, and start the itunes.

and then it starts to rain.

i kid you not. i wasn't out there for 4 minutes before my cigar made hissing noises with each falling drop. i run inside and grab a tarp and a book to read. the tarp goes over the laptop (for obvious reasons) and the book is now open. might as well get in some good reading while i ride out this drizzle.

the drizzle comes down a bit harder. the book is getting wet. the pages keep getting streaked with water. i unfurl the tarp and try to hide under it, letting it protect me, the laptop, lamp, and furniture. this isn't working so well. the cigar smoke has nowhere to go, and i'm not very comfortable with a tarp resting on my head. i get a brilliant idea. why not make a lean-to?

i run the laptop back inside (rain and a new laptop don't mix so good) and hunt in my basement for some bungee cords. i find 2 that are meant to be attachments to my Chuck Norris endorsed TotalGym which i've neglected for too long, and also grab an old luggage strap (just in case) and run back upstairs and outside. i find a few nails in the fence and attach the tarp, bending the nails up to secure the grommets. the bungees attach to the remaining corners. one runs to another section of fence, and the other attaches to the luggage strap, which runs to the sliding door handle. i scurry the chair, lamp, table, cigar, vodka, and book underneath, and my set up looks like this:

i'm crafty! i gets around!

ok, so i spend about an hour freezing my ass off, trying to read a book and keep cigar smoke out of my eyes. the legs of my chair are sinking into the dirt which has become slightly moist (i hate that word) as it's the only place in our tiny yard that has ever been tilled (the garden used to be there 3 years ago). i'm stuck in this corner of our tiny yard because this is the only section of fence that has nails in it, and i'm too lazy to search the abyss of our basement to find more nails AND hammer to make additional 'hooks' for what ends up being a shoddy lean-to anyway. one nail keeps letting go of the grommet and so i improvise yet again and grab one of those tomato ladders - you know, the wire cone type devices that you stab over your tomato plant so the tomatoes have something to rest on while they grow - and shove it over the fence post, placing the grommet over a spire.

the wind keeps picking up, the cigar smoke keeps getting blown in my eyes, and my toes start to go numb. my chair sinks lower and lower, and i go to take a drink...

there's a mosquito in my vodka.

damn.

i'm now sitting in my warm, dry kitchen, sipping freshly pressed coffee. i can feel my fingers and toes, my jacket emits the aroma of earthy tobacco, and there's no danger of electrocution. it's not as noble, but it's much more comfortable.

have no pity on me, dear ones. i enjoyed this night, even if it wasn't what i intended it to be.

hell, at least you get a post out of it! : )

stupid cats

2006-04-09T14:15:00.000-04:00

we have new pets. very unwanted pets.

a few days ago we saw a cat running back and forth in our back yard. mind you, i loathe cats. partly due to allergies, mostly because they're arrogant. i'm not a violent person by any means, but we have strays running amok in our neighborhood. i guess that's the price you pay for cheap housing. seriously, animal control is called monthly to try and rid our community for these furry, balloon-knotted, arrogant, shit-filled pests.
ever since we moved in here 7 years ago (7 years?? holy crap it's time to leave!) we've had an issue with certain cats mistaking our front flowerbed as a litter box. we come home from a trip, or even from across the parking lot, and discover the bastard cats have struck again, leaving us a little turd present in the flowerbed next to the steps, so every time you walk up to the front door, you're assaulted with the visual of a shit lump staring back at you. it's quite aggravating. especially in winter. because the shit freezes, and gets locked into the permafrost, and ends up being the only space in michigan that snow never covers, so for 6 months, you're stuck with seeing frozen cat logs peering up at you. one year i got so angry i laid out a bowl of anti-freeze. i think it worked for a while, but every time we walked in the house, my wife would glare at me and say something like, "i hope you're happy! poisoning innocent cats!" and you know what? i was happy. very happy. no cats, no poop, no problems. but the rest of the household said i was too cruel, so i had to get rid of the anti-freeze.
over the past 3 years, i've tried to get creative in making our flowerbed feel less like a litterbox. i'd heard that cats are particular about what they step on. if their feet feel uncomfortable, they won't walk somewhere. so when we started buying live trees for christmas, i started taking the tree trimmings and laying them in the flowerbed, hoping the pine needles would puncture the paws of those blasted cats and they'd limp away, never to return. it worked for a little while, until one cat found a path through all the branches, and expressed his displeasure with me in the only 2 inch square not covered by pine.
then the cats got nasty. they started dragging the pine branches out of the flowerbed. they started fighting late at night under our window. they started having cat sex under our window. loud cat sex.

and now... they raise their young in my backyard.

two days ago we saw this mangy-ass cat parading across our backyard. i'm very familiar with this cat. i've kicked it once or twice, hit it with a shoe, and nailed it with a rock. but the cat comes back. this cat deserves anti-freeze. it deserves tire marks across its skull. it is not a good cat.
so it saunters across out backyard and slides under our fence, and i run to get a shoe in case it decides to return. as i get to the door and slide it open, shoe in hand, the cat had come back into the yard, this time carrying in its mouth a ball of fur. it sees me, and runs quick under my outdoor grill.

i'm stunned. the ball of fur was indistinguishable as the cat ran. all i could think was, "oh sweet, we got rats now too!" but it turned out i was wrong. we don't have rats. we have more cats. 3 more by the looks of it. this damn cat gave birth in our backyard! 3 kittens; 2 all black and one some ugly tabby orange and white color. i went to get the anti-freeze and Kat yelled at me. these kittens were huddled up under our grill cover, on top of a rubbermaid tub. their eyes not even open yet, their little mouths just yawning, mewing, tiny tongues licking, little legs stretching.

my heart melted just a little.

what is it about cats that drive me to murder, but kittens warm the cockles of my heart? they're so tiny and fragile and cute and not stuck up and not parading with their balloon-knot ass up in the air for all the world to see. it was sweet. we all had a moment. then i went back inside, letting the weight of this new litter of kittens living in my backyard set in. this means we will have 3 more cats that call this place home. 3 more cats to poop in our flowerbed. 3 more cats to have sex outside our window and get in fights and leave trails of blood at 4 am across our porch. 3 more cats that will come back here and give birth to another set of cats. and the cycle will continue.

i went out today to check on the kittens. the tabby colored one is dead i think. it wasn't moving at all. the two black ones were trying to cuddle up to it. ugh. so sad. i feel just a bit of sorrow. to imagine that momma cat coming back to my grill cover, trying to get her little one to feed, its lifeless head just tilting back and forth from the nudge of its mother, trying to coax it to latch on, the other kittens instinctively trying to huddle around it to keep it warm. and you know what?

the only thing i keep thinking is, "i'm gonna have to clean that carcass up."

stupid cats.

smokes, coffee and me

2006-03-30T21:20:00.000-05:00

there are few moments of true happiness and clarity in my life. not that i don't experience these things often, but rarely do i experience them and at the same time recognize they are happening at that moment. kind of like lucid dreaming. rare are the moments when in the actual dream i realize i'm dreaming. i dream nightly, and when i awake i know i've been dreaming and can recount the dreams to some extent. but to realize while within the dream that i am dreaming is next to unheard of for me.
i think it's similar with moments of bliss in this life. often i don't know i'm having them until after they're over. but tonight is an exception. tonight i am strangely aware, acutely focused, and pleased beyond typical daily living.
i'm sitting outside one of my favorite local coffee haunts, sipping strong black coffee, smoking a cigar, listening to my favorite tunes, and enjoying the first good night of spring i can remember in recent history.
i'm working tonight, slaving away at a book that seems impossible at best to finish, let alone be taken as credible by the masses. i'm at a mental block, with no idea how to move past it besides just pressing on. but before i press on, i walk to clear my head. strolling along the quaint town of Plymouth, i head over to a cigar shop to pick up a nice stogie to enjoy this brisk spring eve. as i enter the shop, the aroma of tobacco fills my nose and i smile. i step into the walk-in humidor and am hit with the wetness in the air and the rush of excitement of finding a good smoke.
i am by no means an aficionado but i have learned how to enjoy the peace in a good long Dominican burning at the end of my lips. the smell, the flavor, the smoke wafting around in my mouth before i exhale, the warmth of the ember, the faint orange glow in the darkness. it's pleasurable to say the least.
i walk in and stare at the rows and rows of tobacco, looking at the rings, the price, the names, the ratings, and i get almost overwhelmed by it all. being on a somewhat tight budget, i settle for a $4 Mayorga from, what the ring says, Nicaragua. it's dark yet mild, with a good draw and pleasing flavor. after cutting the tip and being handed a box of wood matches, i head back to the coffee shop 2 blocks away, wetting the end and enjoying the scent, eager with anticipation.
after filling up my mug with some black Costa Rican joe, i step outside with my laptop, and this is where you find me now. the light breeze carries the wisps of smoke westward, and my mouth is tingling with a mixture of heat, flavor and leaf. the coffee coats my tongue with an added flavor, and my fingers chill in the night air.

ah yes, thank God, spring is here, bringing new life, new joys, new scents, flavors and experiences.
and hopefully a resurgence of creativity, clarity and happiness at the simple things in life.

a four dollar smoke and a mug of joe, good tunes and a light breeze.

this is life. simple pleasures are the best.

thank you God. i'm happy.

ancient chinese secret

2006-03-28T02:01:00.000-05:00

a mighty interesting weekend, if i do say so myself. we did a salvation army event and as usual, they were over the top kind to us. i can't grasp how giving these army people can be. it is a beautiful thing. we were in norfolk (pronounced 'ner-fuck' by the locals) virginia right next to a cornucopia of eateries and stores. honestly, within 100 yards was an Outback, Hooters, Jillians, Crocodile Rock, Bar, Have a Nice Day Cafe, Joe's Crab Shack, plus other lesser known food court type eateries including a sushi place, some gyro place, a sbarro knock off, and about 7 others. i've never seen so many food joints all under one roof. there were also a few stores, including a Dollar store, a tiny Sundries store, jewelry, all things Nascar, virginian nicknacks and bric-a-brack, and an Herbal store.
the Herbal store peaked my interest, so i wandered over to see what there was to see. i'm always a bit interested as to what herbs i should be taking in order to, ahem, beef up my sperm count. not quite the most comfortable question to ask the stranger behind the counter. it's kinda like buying your first pack of rubbers. it just feels so wrong and naughty, but your intentions are good and noble. i always seem to be able to shake the uncomfortableness of asking what herb will boost my load simply by remembering 1) they don't know me, 2) they don't honestly care, and 3) i've been been thru a lot dealing with my boys...so it takes a lot to embarrass me now in regards to my nuts and what they produce. plus, if it's gonna help us get pregnant, i can handle some humiliation.
so, i ask this guy if he knows of an herb that will increase sperm count and volume/production. he says, as a matter of fact, he's got the perfect thing:
Shou Wu Chih. he says guys come in and buy 6 bottles a week. apparently this stuff is supposed to replenish what you expend when ya have sex. supposedly it increases the volume and production of the little swimmers.

so i bought 3 bottles.

then i tried it.

ugh. the flavor is somewhere around soy sauce mixed with cheap vodka, then lightly sweetened with moldy sugar. the taste makes you sick and intoxicated at the same time. in fact, i think it's partially made using some form of alcohol and infused roots of something. i dunno.
according to the box, each bottle contains 2 servings of this tonic, each serving being one cup. so...the first time i try it, i drink an entire cup. 20 minutes later, my face is flush, my eyes start crossing, and i start slurring my words a little. later in the day, i read online that the serving size is just 3 tablespoons 3x a day. a bit less than the cup i slammed down earlier!

currently i'm trying to find out what exactly i can mix this stuff with in order to make it taste less nasty. coffee isn't too bad, and orange juice is ok. i think i'm gonna start just doing shots of the stuff, like tequila or jagermeister. we'll discover whether or not this stuff is worth it eventually. i think i need to go back in for a sperm count soon. it's been about a year.

so, there ya go. for the next several months i have 3 bottles of ancient chinese elixir to suck down. i'll let ya know how it goes. maybe if you're lucky, i'll take a picture!

or maybe not. we'll see.

the car died again

2006-03-25T18:48:00.000-05:00

not complaining...just informing.

my car is now sitting at American Transmission in Plymouth. very sad. i got a call today from Bob (a friendly car guy who talks to me like we're best friends) who said he'd have to get into the trans to run some tests to determine exactly what is wrong. the cost just for the test is about $400. yes, that's right, 400 bones just to get up into the trans. that doesn't include repairs. very sad.
so we are carless at the moment. luckily we're out of town on a gig so we don't have need for it. but come monday, we're back in need.
the final cost i do not know. won't know probably until it's fixed. yeah...fixed. got no other options at the moment but to fix it.

funny...5 months ago i had 5 vehicles sitting outside my home. today i have none. quite funny, if i may say.

by the way, a special thanks to my great friends who have contributed to another round of car repairs for us. thanks you 2. you're the best!

any other contributions will gladly be accepted via paypal (drew@onetimeblind.org), cash, check, money order, gift cards, raw gold, precious gems, and new transmissions.

and ya know what? i'm still smiling.

*edit*
just got a call today from bob. looks like the total damage will be somewheres around 992$ and change. not awful....could be worse....but still more than we'd planned.
and so far, thru the love of some great friends, we're up to 700$ now. only 292$ left to find. that's pretty amazing.

God provides.

*2nd edit*
the email addy for paypal is drew@onetimeblind.org - yeah, ORG - my bad. thanks

spam makes me laugh

2006-03-09T22:26:00.000-05:00

here's 2 that i recently received, cut and pasted straight out of the email and posted for you to see. read and enjoy!

From: "edison"
Date: Tue Mar 7, 2006 11:40:25 PM America/Detroit
To: "Meson"
Subject:

Yo Meson,

Listen up, Joel told me on Friday that ur partner been not satified about u
lately. I can help with that. Visit here www.gtdqxf.org/xz/. I've been using
them for a couple months now and nothing but great things for them.

of the novel by explaining the reasons why Edmond Dantés seeks revenge.
Most of this exploitation occurs during Edmond’s convers.

ation with Abbé Faria while imprisoned in Château D’If. Through their
conversation, Edmond discovers who plotted his imprisonmen.eyes’ key feature
is their “gigantic” size, which produces an image of towering dominance. The
faceless eyes lack identity, yet “yellow spectacles” comma.

Talk to ya later
purdy

From: "Aggie"
Date: Sat Mar 4, 2006 8:08:30 PM America/Detroit
To: "Duene"
Subject: ru2 small

Heya Duene,

Make happy ur girlfriend now and end hearing complaints in the room. Don't
be anymore about ur unit, I'm not. http://au.geocities.com/wilmer_pepper/.
See what other are saying.

even to save Scout's life. Even after he saves her life, he is scared,
although he does not run away once he knows she i. a “bad” person. After
further examination she seems to draw feelings of sympathy and pity. The
feelings originate from the fact that she contains some of

hope this was helpful
Aggie

such a wonderful use of Cliffsnotes! by the way, that's "The Count of Monte Cristo" and what would appear to be "To Kill a Mockingbird." you know spam, whether it be fine literature or how to increase your splooge factor, it's all about higher education.

returning home

2006-03-06T18:07:00.000-05:00

just flew in from Arizona. to update you on the rest of the trip would take too long. suffice it to say it was an excellent venture. i, however, did NOT get to smoke a stogie or drink scotch. i shall survive.
the return flight we almost missed ended up being interesting as well. not too much to report on except the woman i sat next to was a bit...unsettled. we had B boarding passes for our return trek home, but because we made a Starbucks run before the airport, we arrived a bit late. our flight departed at 9.35 and we didn't arrive at the airport until 8.35. normally that's not too bad, but today i guess everyone and their brother wanted to fly SWA. the line inside looked like Cedar Point, and outside there were about 50 people lined up along the curb. we waited and waited. the clock said 9.08 when we finally got up to the skycap. we flashed him a $20 and he was determined to get our luggage on the plane. by 9.15 we were in the airport and funneling our way thru security. i try to make security as painless as possible for myself. i wear no belt, no change in the pockets, my shoes are metal-less, i am a speed demon when going thru the detector. and let me tell ya, the fine folks at TSA in phoenix are awesome. friendly, happy, pleasant, attentive and just an all around pleasure to be wanded by.
i almost threw a stink because the TSA guy said i needed to run my shoes thru the x-ray even though i assured him they wouldn't set off the detector. he didn't care. he said that the only shoes they let go thru are flip flops (make a mental note of that for the next time you fly and don't want to walk thru shoeless). i said my shoes are fine and he said the soles were thick enough to require that i run them thru the x-ray.
typically when i encounter this situation, i just get irked. but this man, this 47 year old man with a bushy black mustache and coke bottle glasses, really handled it well. he wasn't overly demanding, he explained to me that he understood my frustration and agreed that the whole thing was dumb. he reminded me of the now infamous shoe bomber guy from a few years back and said i needed to blame that idiot for making this a requirement. he apologized for making me do this, and then thanked me for complying. and so off came my shoes. as i walked thru and grumbled a little, he again thanked me for my patience and for taking off my shoes and wished me a pleasant flight. and you know what? i was ok with the whole situation afterwards. it was something in the way he acknowledged my frustration and admitted this procedure is pretty much a waste of time that made me ok with taking off the shoes. he didn't demand it of me, he didn't pull a power trip on me or threaten to haul my ass of to jail if i dind't comply with federal aviation regulations. i liked him and wanted to give him a hug after he put up with my selfish stupid-ass attitude. but i was late for a flight so i had to jet.
we were supposed to be in boarding group B, but due to our tardiness, we were now the last few poeple to board the plane. and of course you know what that means...feeling like an idiot looking for a seat. and ya know what? it was every bit as painful as i wrote about earlier. people buried their heads in magazines, in pillows feigning sleep, doing whatever they could do to not make eye contact with the person desperately seeking an empty seat. of course by this time the only seats available were center seats, so the only thing you can do is look for an empty center that's not flanked by very large people. i picked one between two older women. i likes me some older women. usually i can charm them just enough to make the flight a pleasant one without making it a non-stop talk fest. the woman to my right was sweet, older, maybe late 60's, and held tightly to her quilted purse made from calico fabric and a rooster applique. the woman to my left had artificially dark hair, a red velour track jacket on, and khaki pants. she looked at first glance to be about 40 or so, but when i looked at her face i realized it was an illusion. she had to be about 70 or 75. she avoided eye contact with me and acted a bit unnatural and uncomfortable. after i sat down, she pulled out a Buddhist magazine and started reading. i tried not to read over her shoulder, but i found my eyes wandering. i just wondered how much could be written about meditation. i caught a few article headlines including one about a yogi who feels like he's surfing when he meditates and like he's meditating when he's surfing. there was something else written by a college girl whose name was Anna but her enlightened friends called her Bear Sun of the Morning Heart or something like that. i wanted to talk to this woman, maybe learn what she's reading about, get to know more of the meditation culture, but every time i turned in her direction or even appeared interested in what she was reading, i got the cold shoulder and a slight murmur from her.
throughout the flight she seemed not at peace at all. for all her articles on meditation and the Zen way to peace, i thought she'd be able to settle down, get comfortable, and clear her mind. but instead she just kept shifting around, muttering under her breath, giving hte flight attendants the evil eye when they asked if she wanted a beverage, and generally was just awkward. i figured the magazine was something a friend might have gotten for her to introduce the Buddhist way. but after finishing one entire magazine cover to cover, she pulled out another. then another. it seemed she was way into this stuff but couldn't find any peace at all.
about 3/4 of the way thru the flight, i needed to pee. bad. but it seemed my zen friend had gotten comfortable for a few moments, so i didn't want to disturb her. i held it in for a painfully long time. to take my mind off the pain, i tried to drown it out with some music which quickly send me drifting in between sleep and awake. and once when i opened my eyes and glanced over at the woman, she was desperately trying to get comfortable again...by attempting the lotus position. not an easy position to do. especially on a plane. especially at age 70 while wearing red velour and Keds.
upon beginning our descent into hell, i mean detroit, the woman on my right and i begin to strike up a friendly conversation about the benefits of phoenix over michigan. she has a son in phoenix whom she was visiting for the past few days, and as we descended thru the clouds and into the gray crap weather that is detroit i could see her eyes remembering how much she loved the warmth of the desert. she still loved michigan, just not the cold. i said i'd love to move to colorado someday and live at the foot of a mountain. she agreed, and then mentioned she has a son in colorado too who loves it there. i talked about how beautiful it is there, and how the people seem nicer and more kind in colorado. must be the mountain air, she says. and i mention how i enjoy it there, and how fun it is to meet even the odd people of colorado. "yes," she says, "there are some odd people in colorado. but...there are some odd people wherever you go." and with that, she leans slightly forward, looks past me, and seemes to reference with a nod of her head the woman sitting to my left. "yup," i hear her say, "odd ones just about everywhere."

SWA and some cheap scotch

2006-03-04T23:36:00.000-05:00

ok, we'll get it out in the open right now. i have an issue with Southwest. i'm just not a fan. i'm sitting here, hovering somewhere over the mid-west on my way to Phoenix, and i just can't get over how much i do not like to fly this airline. maybe i'm a snob, maybe i'm too stuck up. but this airline seems to lure a certain behavior out of people. it feels like whenever we're flying SWA out of Detroit, i'm inundated with people who seem to have lost all manners and courtesy. and that includes the flight staff.
as you all know, i'm a guy who keeps to himself. i don't talk to people i don't know. it's a part of my introversion. it's who God made me to be. or maybe it's a carry-over from the rules of growing up; don't talk to strangers. i'm not rude or unfriendly, i'm just quiet and non-engaging. i don't talk to people while standing in line, or while seated on a plane, except to say "excuse me" when trying to squeeze by. it seems, however, i typically have a billboard smacked across my forehead that seems to say, "Talk To Me. It Makes Me Uncomfortable." because generally it happens.

today has been uneventful in that regard, save for the unnaturally red haired woman trying to figure out if we were standing in line. she asks, "are you standing in line?" i kind of thought that question to be ignorant, since in fact, we all were standing in a line, one person after another. when people are arranged in that fashion, it generally implies a line has formed. but i digress.

my big beef with SWA is that i feel like cattle. i am not a fan of having to fight for a seat, or watch other people fight for a seat. i like assigned seating. there's more comfort in it, more security. we were fortunate enough to be a part of the A boarding group. lucky us, our seats were not difficult to obtain. after getting settled in, and listening to the B group gripe about having to walk all the way to the back of the plane to get their seats, you can see the C group wandering down the center aisle with doe eyes, a look of confusion and hopelessness, as well as just being generally lost. i feel the emotions they portray, standing there, gazing toward the back of the plane, hoping someone will stand up and say, "come sit with me." but that never happens. generally, if you're in the C boarding group, you're screwed. the only seats left will be the center seats between two people who, judging by the glare in their eyes, don't want you sitting next to them. it makes you feel like it's YOUR fault you have to sit down.
i've been in that C group, and it's kind of like being picked last for kickball. you feel retarded and self-conscious. you feel like you're no good, that everyone hates you, and you have no friends at all. the people in seats D and F get perturbed when the only seat left on the plane is seat E, sandwiched right between them. since they were in boarding group A and B, they've already settled in, pulled out their books or in-flight magazines, buckled their seatbelt, and settled in like a bear ready for winter. they throw eye daggers at you, frickin' laser beams shoot out their minds towards you, making you feel like a moron when you have to ask, "is this seat taken?"
if you are lucky enough to be in boarding group A or B, you then have the pleasure of getting slapped in the head or shoulder by every person in group C who walks by you on their quest for a seat. i can't tell you how many times i've gotten a random ass planted into my face, or been unapologetically hit on the shoulder by an old man's crotch, or someone's computer bag or backpack. the loud gaggle of teenage girls who are so excited to be going anywhere, the business man and woman who yell to each other across the aisle about the business report that's due in 2 weeks, the obnoxious semi-hammered sports fans on their way to the 'big game,' the mother of four, all in tow, screaming at her kids to sit down and shut up when really the only thing that's disturbing the plane is her yelling so much.

it seems like people don't act dignified on Southwest. i'm not asking for people to be all hoity-toity , i'm just wanting people to not step onto a 4 hour flight smelling like stale cigarettes and remnants of some beverage they drank and then promptly brought back up. i'm just wanting people to not sing so loudly when they hear a great song on their iPod, which no one else can hear. i'm just wanting people to say please, say excuse me, and not use the back of my chair as a lift assist when they need to get up and use the bathroom. that's what your arm rests are for.

but i think the thing i dislike the most is the southwest staff. it's never like you see in the commercials or on the SWA show "Airline" on Bravo. on the show everyone is kind, and genuine, not condescending, eager to help and always giving you the benefit of the doubt. but that's not reality. at least not reality for the SWA staff at DTW. i can't fault them for being like they are. they put up with people all day every day who refuse to act with any dignity. I know it's their job to put up with these folks, but i think it's taking away a bit of each of their souls as the air miles pass by. but the issue for me here is the extremes in flight attendants i seem to encounter on SWA. we either see the incredibly jovial, joking, fooling around, it's-a-party-in-the-sky flight attendant who wants to do karaoke on board, or the rigid, drill sergeant, i-have-power-so-don't-fuck-with-me flight attendant who seems to have an inferiority complex and must take steps to feel superior. the first one makes me feel like i'm on a circus flight to hell and the second makes me feel like i'm on my way there and i've just met my tour guide.
i've flown enough in my life to know what's important and what isn't important on a flight. i generally know the rules, i know what the 'dings' mean during taxiing and departing and arriving, i know the safety instructions, where my exits are, how to put on my oxygen mask in case of pressure loss, and i even know what beverages are served on which airline. and so now i come to the bane of my flying experience today.
there are 3 attendants on board, 2 men and a woman. as we get ready for taxiing i begin putting my iPod away since i was in boarding group A, i'd been sitting there listening to music for about 20 minutes as everyone else came aboard. but it's time to taxi so i pause my music and wait for it to go to sleep. a flight attendant walks by and, spying the lit screen demands i turn it off immediately. honestly he said, "you need to turn that off right now." ok, i understand that all portable electronic devices are to be turned off at taxi and take-off, and i also understand the reasoning for it (by the way, it's because they don't want anything distracting you during take off so if an emergency happens, you're prepared for action- it has nothing to do with radio waves or interfering with the instrument readings) but is it too much to ask for him to nicely ask me to shut it off? or to say, "thanks for turning that off," or "make sure that's off by the time we take-off, ok?" i mean, why demand something from me that's already happening and is of little consequence to life? it really upset me. yeah- stupid thing to get upset about. but i was upset.
maybe it's me. maybe i put off the vibe that says, "treat me like an idiot because i deserve it." i'm not sure. but it really ticked me off.
so now we come to another trivial thing that really enraged me. here we are, on the plane, 700 miles in, and i'm thinking about how nice it will be tonight when i'm at my hotel room and can finally smoke my cigar. it'll be about 80 degrees when we get there. perfect night to sit outside and enjoy the stogie. and then i get a bright idea. what better to go with a great smoke than a nice scotch? i have 4 southwest drink coupons in my bag and figure now is a great time to cash in by getting a tiny bottle of scotch. unfortunately, it's Dewars...which is pretty cruddy, but it's free and better than nothing. i take my coupons back to flight attendant #1 and ask for a Dewars. he takes my coupons, reaches down to get the tiny bottle of scotch, and proceeds to open it and ask what i'd like it with. "oh, nothing." i reply. "i'm really wanting to save it for later."
and here's where it all went downhill.
"oh no, you can't do that," he says to me- which i know isn't true.
"huh? why not?"
"because i can't serve this with the lid still on."
"i'm sorry. i guess i don't understand. why can't i save this?"
"what do you mean, 'save it?'"
i ponder the absurdity of this question, and the situation, for a moment. and then flight attendant #2 shows up. they confer for a bit, and the liquor nazis both ask me what i'm saving it for.
"well, i want to take it and drink it later, at my hotel." i reply.
"no, oh no you can't do that."

giant uncomfortable pause. i look at them, trying to wrap my brain around what they're saying. see, i would have accepted their statement as fact IF i hadn't already known differently. i've done this many times on southwest flights with nary an issue. i'd use my coupons, get my mini bottle of booze, and put them directly into my bag to save for after our gig, or some other appropriate time. i've done this with scotch, irish whiskey, vodka, even the little bottles of wine. so i say,
"but i don't want it now. i want it later."
"no, you can't do that."
"why not?"
"because i'm not allowed to serve liquor with the cap still on."

huh?? what does that mean? i understand you can't serve liquor with the cap on, cuz no liquor would come out of the little bottle if the cap was still on. that's the whole point of a cap! we're now at a stand still. they can't back down now. i think if it was just flight attendant #1 it would have quickly blown over and he'd have handed it off and said, "i'm not supposed to do this, but here ya go." but now there was attendant #2 there as well, and HE'S the one who demanded the iPod be turned off. we already didn't see eye to eye, already bad blood between us. flight attendant #1 is holding the opened bottle of Dewars, flight attendant #2 is, what appears to be, snarling at me, and there's an old woman walking up to use the lavatory.

"well, i'm sorry but i don't want to drink it now."
"yup, that's a problem now, isn't it?"

flight attendant #1 reaches back to #2, grabs the drink coupons from him, and hands them back to me without another word. and i return to my seat.

yes. it's stupid. yes. it's lame. i'm not complaining about it. i'm just questioning why it has to happen. i don't see the point.

the old man sitting in the seat behind me just pulled on the back of my chair to help hoist himself up, grabbing and pulling my hair in the process. no apology, no acknowledgement of a mistake, nothing.

i think i'm going to take a nap and dream of being on a Northwest flight. or maybe United or Delta. oh what dreams may come.

so...life seems pretty good.

2006-03-02T00:35:00.000-05:00

so...life seems pretty good. i've been mildly sick lately, but that seems to be leaving. apparently it transferred to ajax though. he's been ill for the past week. odd to say about a rabbit, but i've been incredibly worried about the little fucker. he's had a ball of something in his stomach, or stuck somewhere along the digestive tract. he wasn't pooping or eating for about 5 days. upon further investigation online, it seems he's had a 'hairball' which apparently is common, but inaccurate. rabbits don't get 'hairballs' but instead just get stuff clogged in their large intestines and can't seem to get it out. this makes them not only sick, but they stop eating their pellets and stop drinking. so the risk is mostly from dehydration.
the cure seemed to be either a trip to the vet, or an attempt to hydrate thru food. we opted for the food route. after a quick run to meijer and a $10 produce bill, we chopped up some parsley, kale, mustard greens, cabbage, apples, oranges, pears and kiwi and prayed it would work. and apparently...it did. things are moving along a lot better for the little guy. it's a good thing.
as for me, my next few weeks and even months will be filled with a lot of sitting on my ass and typing. i got deadlines comin' out the wazoo and i pray the muses will deliver on time. looking forward to days and days at a few local coffee haunts for some needed ambience and inspiration.
this weekend is arizona. i'm looking forward to a triple-triple animal/protein style, chocolate shake and fries at In-n-Out. it's a rare treat and i'm VERY excited. ahhh the simple things.

travelin' blues

2006-02-18T11:28:00.000-05:00

so, on our road trip down to cinci we encountered many many traffic issues. but one in particular burns my buttons. here we are, 4 of us, crammed into a little white honda, and suddenly we encounter a traffic jam. now, you know me and traffic jams. it just makes me enraged. i seriously have an issue with being on a freeway and not being free. the intent on a freeway is to go, to get there, to reach your destination. and so it grates against the very fiber of my being when we sit still on asphalt instead of whizzing down the road at 80 mph (the way life is intended to be lived).
so we encounter traffic and spend about an hour creeping along at 2 mph for about 45 minutes. there comes a time along 75 southbound that the left lane turns into an exit only ramp. we reached this point, just north of dayton ohio, while in the middle of this traffic cluster fuck, and tried to merge over into the right hand lane of traffic, also creeping along at 2 mph. the cars in our exit only lane was speeding ahead because people were exiting. we, however, did not want to exit. we wanted to merge right. but no cars were letting us in.
now, i can understand frustration while on the road and stuck in traffic. i can understand the anger and rage that has built up by now at the lack of movement. i also understand the desire to zoom ahead and get the car up to 4 or even 6 mph whenever a tiny space opens up in front of you. but c'mon now...is it REALLY that necessary to keep other cars from coming in when they need to?
now, i've been there before. i've seen some joker jackass whizz past me at what seemed like 87 mph in the lane no one is supposed to be in. i've seen the jerk try to squeeze in at the last second. and at those moments, i've been a little heartless and cruel. i've said my obscenities and used my gestures. i can be a jerk as well. but for people who are trapped in a wrong lane, who aren't speeding down the road just to get ahead of everyone stuck in traffic, i'm generally kind. but based on this sole experience, i'd surmise i was the only kind one in the world.
after trying to nudge our way into the right hand lane, we came upon a black honda spaced about 5 feet in front of a green mini van. it seemed to be the perfect spot to squeeze in and so we try. we signal that we're coming over (because there's really nowhere else to go) and proceed to gently (at 2 mph) maneuver the front of the car in between the rear of the honda and the engine of the mini van. out of the corner of my eye, as i sit in the passenger seat, i see the green bumper zoom up next to us, closing off any thought of entering this now narrowing gap between cars. mind you, this is all happening in slow motion, because we're only traveling at...that's right...2 mph.
so, our blinker on, our gap narrowed, the green mini van becoming a thorn in our side, we continue to try and move into what little open space there is. our green mini van friend all the while is pretending we don't exist and that what he's doing is just obeying the laws of the road. he's a bit past being a middle aged man, his aqua-net haired wife seated next to him, both of them staring straight forward. he's wearing what looks to be a tan 'members only' jacket, a navy blue, green, red, yellow and white plaid button up shirt, and a white v-neck undershirt. how do i know this? he's inches from my window. how can you not notice?
we, in the car, are shocked at this man's gall against us. he has no reason to hate us except that we don't want to exit at this off ramp. apparently that was enough to enrage him to rudeness. there i was, literally inches from his car, from his side mirror, and i looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes. and you know what he did? nothing. he ignored me. he ignored us. he sat there, stone faced, facing forward, inching closer to our car, unafraid of hitting us at 2 mph. he was unrelenting, unwilling to budge, unwilling to help, to assist, unwilling to even look at us or acknowledge someone 4 INCHES FROM HIS WINDOW!

if you ignore it long enough...it goes away.

eventually we did go away. we gave up trying to enter into this spot. but not before i rolled down my window. my window, right next to his, my line of sight right up into his personal space. i roll it down, thinking what all i could say at this point. what would i say to make this man remember that there are other people in the world trying to get to a place? what could i say to make this man realize it wasn't our fault there was a traffic jam and to quit silently blaming us? what could i say to show this man his blank stare forward wasn't doing the world any favors? what could i say?
the first thing that came to mind was, "hey...mind if we cut in?" followed by, "dude, seriously, what's your problem? we're right here!" followed by, "hey...hey you...bitter old guy...does it really have to be this difficult for you to be nice to another human being?" followed by, "wow...tough old guy in a mini van...i bet your wife is thinking, 'thank God i married THIS guy because he's so strong and forceful! i got me a real winner here!'"
but i never got to say those things. as my window came down and my hand reached out to tap on his green mini van, ryan gave up the fight. he lost this battle of wills. he sped forward about 17 cars and found someone to let him in with no problem at all. we all rolled down our window and stuck a friendly hand out to wave at this wonderful person who graciously let us scoot in front of him, while going 2 mph.
we were still stuck in traffic for another 20 minutes, but that didn't quite matter as much. we were in the right lane now, free from the worry and stress of an impending off ramp we couldn't escape. we were safe and secure in our lane of slow moving, aggravated, frustrated, claustrophobic auto drivers. we may have lost that one battle, but i guess we won the war. see...we were ahead of that green mini van. the very thing he didn't want happening. we were further along than he was, we got thru the accident (oh yeah, that was the reason for the traffic jam in the first place- some tanker tipped over i guess) first, and were able to accelerate to a jaunty 70 mph first. we kept an eye out for our nemesis in green, but apparently we were an entire time zone ahead of this bitter butt, because we never saw him again.
but before we made it all the way thru, while we still sat in traffic, there was a small part of me that wanted to get out of the car, run back to his green mini van and smug expression of self-satisfaction for vanquishing his personal foe, and say, "oh yeah? well...we're STILL in front of YOU! how you like DEM APPLES?"

so...to mr. green mini van driver out there on I-75 somewhere...

H A - H A

enjoy your ride

ok- here's the update

2006-02-09T17:53:00.000-05:00

well, the past week and a half have been amazingly good to me. granted, i rarely got to shower, got poor sleep, had to get up early almost every day, never had internet access, and stressed to the point of an ulcer at the loss of my power cord, but the 11 days we were gone were fantastic ones.
we had a few shows here and there. our first was at our manager's home church. oddly enough, everyone was petrified of us coming in. apparently, we caused a controversy because we weren't the preacher. someone other than the preacher was going to preach. to some, i guess, this is an issue. we caused a stir in the henhouse, as it were. but after the sunday morning show, it was all fine. people were genuinely happy. not only happy, but a few were even touched. amazing what happens when we allow ourselves to be pushed beyond our comfort a bit.
the next day was spent in meetings in joplin, missouri. long story short, we're helping to write a program for junior high students. the meeting was good, also did some video shoots for the program that will be played a year from now AT the conference we'll be at. looks like i can't change my hair for a while. i'm starting to like the faux hawk.
the next day was meetings. i say 'meetings' but it was actually just one meeting. a very long meeting. but a good one nonetheless. later that night i drove to the KCI airport to pick up a friend, and on the way i had some great phone convo with a buddy of mine who i get to see this weekend. wheeee!!
wed-sat morning are pretty much a blur. long story short (too late) we were at a drama conference *shudder* - preparing to teach a few classes (history of drama and arts in the church- much more exciting than the name implies- and birthright Q&A), do a few skits in the main sessions, and finally to perform birthright again. we first did this last june or so, and it was less than stellar. in fact, it made me want to bash my own face in with a staple gun. but this time it went much smoother, much less stress, much easier, much calmer...and overall was an amazing experience. putting on a production like this takes a lot out of ya. not the actual performance, but everything working up to it. the planning, rehearsing, cues, lighting, programming, etc. i was a bit stressed, but hopefully handled myself well. the night of the event, and it was amazing. all the work was worth it. amazingly enough, i was even able to step off the stage and join the audience in experiencing part of it. and i found myself worshipping like i haven't in a long while.
the only hitch...a facilities manager with an ego trip. he had very little power, but what power he DID have, he abused. he really wasn't willing to help make this event a success. but that's how some people are. no matter how much good you're trying to do, they decide to hold onto whatever authority they have and use it as an identity, refusing to bend, yield, or even smile. but so be it. it's on his head, not mine.
we were asked to do a final skit to close out the event. it was honestly an honor for us. we did 'live in me' - some of you know, some of you don't. but it's a skit we love to do. it's fun, funny, and still cuts to the heart of our walk with Christ. apparently the attendees loved it too. multiple people asking for a script (now on our website) and when we explained we don't really use a script...they were taken aback.
ooh- one fun thing. we did a skit the first day called 'help' that we haven't performed since Darryl was with us (a few yrs ago). we had a difficult time trying to re-write the skit for 4 people and even came to the place of almost backing out of doing it. but, since we committed to doing it, we struggled thru with determination to make it work. 5 min before we went on stage, we talked thru the skit and prayed we wouldn't look like idiots. and ya know what? it was frickin hilarious! i wish i could explain how funny it was, but i myself had a hard time not laughing while our 'improv' skit grew into something bigger than ourselves.
overall, the feeling we walked away with was one of validation. after all, this was the first time we'd ever been to a drama conference, let alone performed at one. we were a bit nervous, never having been around other people who were actually IN to drama, and made a living at it. these people had degrees in theater, had studied it, had made their life's work about it...and yet they not only appreciated what we did, but were touched, moved, and encouraged. it's one thing to be validated by other christians, but to be validated by peers...it somehow makes it more powerful.
the days following were filled with travel, some sleep, multiple set up and tear downs, a sunday service, a superbowl party that was more a time for friends to catch up than actually watch a game (which sucked ass, i might add- stupid steelers), a public school show on monday, and outreach event later that night, and a two day drive home.

so, here it is thursday. i have so much to do today. i'm leaving again tomorrow night to spend the evening with some friends in holland (you know who you are) and see other friends perform (you know who you are) and stay up late, drink coffee, laugh, and maybe sleep for a few minutes.

bah...i'll sleep when i die.

oh, also, say some prayers of healing for the mother of a friend of mine. bobby's mom is sick. if you have the gift of healing...start praying. she's stable...but still sick. oh, and if you're interested, throw a prayer up about me meeting up with some folks at mars hill. trying to make some connections over there. not sure what will come of it, but i've felt led to at least knock on their door.

love you all.

again...my computer is a hamster

2006-02-06T15:50:00.000-05:00

it ate the young.

last night i spent about 45 min updating all my lovely readers about the past week +, and it all got deleted.

i was sad.

to sum it up, life is fucking awesome!!

talk to you soon--

me

adventures in better health

2006-01-11T20:53:00.000-05:00

post #75. that's a new record for me.

ok, so as most of you know, i suffer from what is known as a 'gluten intolerance' - similar to a dairy intolerance except no magic pill to take to make it less bad. if i eat wheat, i have bad smells come out of me. so i can only eat certain types of bread - namely those not made with wheat. the good news, no bad smells. the bad news, way way expensive and hard to find.
hard to find, that is, unless you are located near a health food store. such as Better Health. we discovered this store somewhat by accident a few months ago. and upon first entry, it was like i'd walked straight into the gates of heaven! the sliding doors parted and i was met with a rush of wholesome smells, a veritable cornucopia of fresh vegetation, colors so bright they were in hi-def. i found rows and rows of gluten-free foods, including, but not limited to; donuts, bagels, breadsticks, pasta, pound cake, cookies, pretzels, crackers. the list just goes on and on.
today, just a few hours ago, i had to make a stop in to pick up some bread. we'd found a fantastic, and reasonably priced loaf of light tapioca bread. at about 3.19$ a loaf, it's a bargain. i also got some donuts (it's been a few years since i got to taste a sweet ring of dough- and wouldn't you know i tried warming the first one up in the microwave a bit, and i left it in too long and it turned hard as a brick, and i didn't care, and i ate it anyway, and i burned my tongue on the maple icing that had started bubbling and melting) and some great granola-type bars made entirely out of nuts. they are amzingly good. and at 7.89$ for a dozen, i expect nothing but pure oral orgasm from them.
so i go in and start looking for my products. i walk thru the bread aisle, and it seems to look like it's been picked over. limited selections, loafs strewn about, more empty shelf than stocked shelf. it looked like the after-christmas aisle at walmart in May. and i see no light tapioca loafs anywhere. none. zero. now mind you, typically i don't talk to people in the store. it's just a rule i've made for myself. i don't ask questions, don't make a scene. i'm an independant shopper. if it's not there, i'll do without. just don't make me talk to anyone. let me shop, let me be.
but this was different. this was no ordinary trip to the supermarket. i needed this bread. it's not frozen bread like all the rest. it's fresh, and light, and tasty, and good to eat with roast beef. it's the closest thing to bread i've found so far. so...i go up to the espresso/wheat grass juice bar which was right next to where all the bread was supposed to be, and ask the woman behind the counter for some help.

and here's where it all goes wrong.

This woman, Linda, as her nametag reads, is the type of woman who would pronounce her name "Leeen-dahhh," showing a lot of teeth in the process. her long, straight, dirty blond hair fell to her butt, which was packed into a pair of acid wash jeans, which were tucked into some black suede pseudo-boots. a dangling purple crystal hung from her pink turtlenecked neck, with dreamcatcher earrings swishing back and forth, her bracelets tinkling lightly, her rings clicking together with each finger movement. she spoke to me in a spacey sort of way, the way you'd expect someone who hasn't eaten anything but hallucinogenic mushrooms - organic, of course - for the past week.

i asked, "can you help me maybe? i'm looking for some light tapioca bread, and i don't see any here on the shelf. do you have any in stock, or know of anyone who could go look?"

Leeen-dahhh looks at me, and replies, "hmmm, oh my, mmmm, hmmm, who could answer that...ummm, hmmm, well have you tried Exekiel bread in the frozen bread section?"

"no," i reply, "i've never tried it because it's wheat based. i have a gluten intolerance."

"oh i see," she breathes."well, maybe you could try the Ezekiel bread. it's what i eat."
"no, really. i'm just looking for tapioca bread. the light tapioca bread. it should be here on the shelf." and i walk over to the shelf and point to an empty space.
"oh, oh....right." Her bracelets clink and tink as her hand goes up to her chin. "and you don't see it here?" she looks at the 4 loaves of bread on the shelf, mystically staring at each one. "well, i'd suggest the Ezekiel bread. it's what i eat. and i can't eat gluten either. i eat for my blood type which is B+ and i can't eat gluten. dr. d'adamo's changed my life because now i only eat for my blood type. have you tried the Ezekiel bread?"
"um...no. no i haven't tried the Ezekiel bread. i'd like some tapioca bread though." help me God.
"ahhh, um..." she looks up and sees a man walkin towards her. "ooh, Dan can help. I have to go juice my grass." and Leeen-dahhh is gone.

a man of slightly below average height walks towards me. he's wearing a Better Health ballcap, a leather biker jacket, jeans, black sneakers, various gold necklaces of various widths and lengths supporting various charms which i refused to stare at long enough to register mentally what they were miniatures of, and some really awful cologne. His face is kind, eyes hidden behind rimless glasses, and he sports a salt and pepper goatee, which is more salt than pepper. his hair pokes out from under his ballcap in a curly ponytail, depserately trying to recapture days gone by, and not doing such a swell job. dan seemed generally happy, slightly flamboyant, and as he made eye contact with me, i noticed a little grin appear on his face, and his eyes gave me the once, then twice over.
"what can i do for you?" dan asks me, with a hint of double entendre in his tone.
"i'm looking for the light tapioca bread."
"really? well, i just had a guy in here earlier today looking for the same product. how about that. i ordered a whole case just for him. it'll be in on friday. you want a case?"
"um, no....i just want one loaf of light tapioca bread please. i have a gluten intolerance."
"have you tried Ezekiel bread?"
"no. no i haven't. but maybe i should someday. i hear it's great."
"oh yeah, that stuff is amazing. c'mon back here." dan motions me to follow him down the freezer aisle where the frozen breads sit like chilled rocks. "look at all we got here. we got lots of breads for you. some donuts, and bagels too. ooh, this hemp bread is amazing. and this sunflower bread is great too."
i ask, "doesn't this have wheat in it?"
"oh sure. some of it does. but not gluten. if you eat the wheat that's sprouted, there's no gluten in it."

ok, i'm not one to doubt people, but so far in this journey of gluten-free living, i've read nothing about this 'sprouting' he speaks of. and i'm a bit leery of spending 5$ on a loaf of hemp bread that may give me the runs, but won't get me high. still, i will research it. who knows, maybe it's true. but that's not the point of this story. as big dan and i walk back up towards the front of the store, he says to me,

"lemme show you something. check this out." Dan pulls his wallet out of his back pocket. a black leather wallet, thick with plastic and paper contents. and, one latex item. yes, one latex condom inside his wallet. how do i know? the outline is imprinted in the dark leather, giving me the impression it hasn't been removed in a number of years. he pulls it out, holds it condom ring side up for a moment, making sure i see it (yeah- it was obvious he was trying to show me something), then he opens the wallet and pulls out his drivers license.
"take a look at this" and he shoves his plastic michigan id into my face. "look at that picture of me. that was me only a year ago."
i stared, slightly confused, eyes still unable to focus, at a tiny image of a very unhappy, overweight, balding man. "i weighed 212 a year ago." he snatched the drivers license back and said, "guess how old i am. go ahead, guess."

how did i get here? how did i get into a situation. i tell myself, "aim rediculously low."

"42," i say, "44 tops. not a day over that." wow, i am now the king of liars.
"i'm 53!!"
"wow, that's amazing," i offer. "how'd you do it?"
"wheat grass. i started drinking wheat grass. ya know, if you want, i'd be happy to tell you more about the benefits of a shot of wheat grass everyday. just come in anytime. if you come, i'll come. we'll suit up and get down to business."
at this point in the conversation, i got a little confused as to if he was still talking about wheat grass.
"i can teach you how to detox your body. i could really teach you a lot of things, show you how to treat your body right. you just let me know and i'd be happy to do whatever i can for you. "

i started to feel dirty at this point.

"ok," i replied nervously. "thank you so much for your help. i appreciate it. this is a great store and it's awesome i can find so many things in one place."
"well, i look forward to having you come back. it was a pleasure meeting you. now, if you'll excuse me, i have to go juice my grass."

note to self, never, ever, ever talk to people in the store.

by the way, i settled for a loaf of light rice bread.

it better be worth it.

"and i think to myself, what a wonderful world"

2006-01-04T19:48:00.000-05:00

i've decided today. i'm happy. i am. i am a happy person. at least i want to portray that more.

i've never feel like the "new year" finally arriving really held any significanc, but for some reason, this year is different. it feels different already. maybe it's the 48 degree weather we're having. maybe it's the smell of spring in the air. a faux scent, as spring won't arrive for a few months stil, but a scent nonetheless. and it brings me joy.

i tend to disagree with the idea of new years resolutions, but i'm determined to make a few. not becuse it's the thing to do, but because these i can truly keep and they will alter my life. i'm going to be more happy. more positive. i'm going to work out (i'd say "work out more" but that would imply that i work out in the first place). i'm not going to allow my burdens to drag me down. in fact, i'm going to reject burdens. instead of seeing things as burdens, they will now be opportunities for God to provide (perspective, my friends...it's all perspective), i'm going to love more, i'm going to enjoy life more, especially the little things, i'm going to listen to more music and let it fill me up to overwhelming capacities, i'm going to create, i'm going to listen more, sleep better, be more productive, and wake up without a grumble because i'm breathing and i have so so many people in my life who love me. what more do i need?

the dawning of january 1, 2006 carried with it a new wind, a new fire, a new breath. i can't explain, but it felt like the entire world breathed a sigh of relief when the hour hand passed 12 in each respective time zone, and the rocks and trees and winds could breathe freely again after a year of holding it in. i watched a pathetic (if you watched it, you know how pathetic it was) newscast of the new year's celebration in times square on fox news. it was pathetic and almost hurtful. and honestly, how can it be much else after a year like 2005 was? but this year i saw something i'd never seen before. they showed video clips of new years celebrations across the globe. in sydney they had fireworks, in some place in china or japan they banged a giant bell in some temple. scene after scene was filled with people happy, truly happy, to ring in the new year. it reminded me that we've all had a hard year. it felt as if a wave of freshness swept from the east to the west, each hour bringing a new cleansing wind across the world, wiping it clean. i can't explain, but i awoke with a lighter feel, as if i stepped out of ragged clothes that had become so familiar and caked with dirt and mud and grime that i didn't know how heavy they weighed on me until i shed them.

we still don't have any money, per se, but we are being provided for. not only are we being provided for (an answer to many prayers) but there seems to be hope on the horizon. maybe not financially, but for sure emotionally and spiritually and physically. and really...what is financial security? it's just security in something that will burn up. and if something as primitive as fire can take it all away, then why put so much hope in it?
sure, there's frustration without it, but a lack of funds it should never be a burden. money isn't THAT important. lots of people across the world live without it. so why should i feel i should be any different?
as for the job thing...we're a bit undecided, but not really. mostly because getting a job would require spending time doing something temporary for money that is temporary. come june or so, we're looking really good show-wise and income-wise. it's a quick fix for a long term problem. we'd rather have a long term fix to a quick problem. on the horizon is many opportunities for us as a company, as actors, and as ministers- so why not pour our energy into that? our bills can go unpaid for a few weeks. in the meantime, we shall be emptying ourselves out into art. and honestly, that's WAY more fulfilling. creating items, products, tools that will help generate income will help us in the long-term, even if the short term is tight.

on the horizon is curriculum to go with our dvd, an epcd, a full length cd full of hymns set to the acappella stylings of us, 2 (maybe more) books, a new dvd, grant proposals, new skits- hopefully many, and a boatload of new venues and opportunities to minister. the future looks bright. put on your shades.

so, until further notice, we are suspending the job hunt. if a job is needed, i know i at least can acquire one quickly. i have multiple options. but until i need to strap on the waist apron again, i shall be emptying myself into books and skits and new indescribable creations.

yeah. there's something good about this new year.

i got this email from a friend tonight:

2005-12-12T03:28:00.000-05:00

I found it....

It's by Paul though...

This is how it reads in the new living translation,
but you have the reference now so you can look it up
in your red letterless bible.

2 Timothy 2:11-13

This is a true saying:

If we die with him,
we will also live with him.

If we endure hardship,
we will reign with him.
If we deny him,
he will deny us.

If we are unfaithful,
he remains faithful,
for he cannot deny himself.

And again that's 2 Timothy 2:11-13

I don't really believe that God holds back on things
that his people really need. I do know that life, is
described as 'hard' over and over again, especially in
the bible...as I was trying to find this verse
tonight, (I was really sure it was in psalm so it took
me awhile to find it) I read through alot of David's
whining...and different warnings on how our hearts
will hurt in living the way we were meant to live. I
know that doesn't necessarily help anything...but at
least you know the hurt, and questioning part is right
on...that things to some extent are supposed to work
this way. We also know, whether we always acknowledge
it or not, that God does provide...not the facts, but
he provides. 'Provide' is such a sucky christianese
word...it works though.

Anyway...I'm going to bed now. I love you, and I hope
you have rent tomorrow...or for whenever you need it.

thanks jo- does my heart good.

p.s. don't let the shimmy get out of control. bad things happen when you shimmy carelessly.

sans $$

2005-12-09T00:56:00.000-05:00

i'm not sure what's going on. i really have no clue. and maybe admitting you're clueless is the first step in actually receiving a clue. it's been an emotional month so far. i haven't blogged much because i'm honestly not too sure what to say. my life seems much like a horror film, except no one is dying (yet, thank God). wait, maybe not a horror film. maybe more like that uncomfortable feeling you get while watching Meet the Parents. it's just painful to watch, and you just pray to God the poor guy would get a break at some point. and yet, he never does.
it's that pain, that agony, of the situations that i'm feeling within my own life. i honestly don't want a pity party, and i'm not trying to throw one. it's just that...shit, i sound foolish even saying it...i thought life wouldn't be this difficult.
i guess a part of me was relying quite heavily on how i thought life was supposed to work. i thought i was supposed to follow the calling God placed for me on my life (namely, this drama stuff) and the Lord would blaze a trail for me, cutting a path to the goal- -by the way, i don't even know what the goal is anymore- -and he'd take care of my every need.
i know, i know, very naive.
i think i may have had a very limited and faiery tale view of God when i got into this whole game of life. i saw God as more of a transaction. IF i'm good, and do what i'm told, THEN i get what i want. isn't that the way it is supposed to be??

here's the thing...i'm doing what i'm told (as far as i can tell) and yet i'm still not getting what i want. of course, what is it i really want??
i struggle here. immediately? i want- no, need some income. seriously folks...it's pretty bad. i know most of you who read this (and you know who you are) are in the same boat. and i'm not sure if that makes it better or worse. i'm pretty sure worse. it is just feeling as if God, whom we know owns it ALL, just isn't being too generous when it comes to the financial side of things. and that hurts a little. i shall not go into how much it hurts, because i'm sure you all have been there.
the hard part is the questioning. why is money so tight? i'm not asking for riches beyond measure, just enough money to cover rent and heat and gas. i'm not asking for a new house or new tv, just enough to help out those who need help too. it seems then that God doesn't care. that he isn't willing ot meet our needs financially. and then, i go down the path to thinking that i'm being selfish for needing money, that my life should be more...i don't know... esoteric and lofty than to need money. i start to rationalize my need for money away by saying things like "God may not be providing financially, but he's making up for it in spiritual wisom!" which in a way is true, but spiritual wisdom isn't going to pay our electricity bill. it makes me start to question my faith, whether or not God cares for me, whether i'm doing something wrong and God is punishing me. i am flooded by questions, and instead of helping, or making me go deeper into God, they end up making me more confused and i wrestle for sleep and peace and joy and hope.

so what to do? what do you do when the job the Lord has called you to hasn't been able to make payroll for 3 months? what do you do when the Lord sends hundreds of people up to you to tell you to keep doing what you're doing because you're changing millions of hearts, but yet the money is not there to keep it going? it's so terrifying to know you're not released from a job or calling, but yet that job/calling isn't able to meet your needs financially. or its own needs.
i'm sorry to bitch and moan. i know many of you are right there with us. it's just getting painfully hard to continue trying to serve God the way he's called us to serve him. it makes me start to think thoughts i don't feel comfortable thinking. i start qonering if what i'm doing even matters; if it matters to God or even to other people. if it matters then where is the help and support? prayer support is great, but what about the financial backing to go with it? where are those people? they've got to be out there, but yet for some reason, none of them have had us on their hearts. and that hurts too.

the only thing i have left to do is trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding. those words sound like utter foolish talk to me at the moment. it's christianese and it doesnt help. but i have no other option. i must must continue on. i must trust that God is God, that he hears me, sees me, that he cares for me, that he loves me. He is my father, and i know there is nothing a true father won't do for his child. so here i sit on my couch, waiting for my daddy to help me, to save me, to rescue me. i will plant my feet in the only words i have to stand on, and i will continue to love him, serve him, pray to him, and plead for his help and mercy.

please God, be quick. rent is due tomorrow.

oh- and i need to make an additional thought here. i'm noticing my last post again, and how i was a total ass where i say "bring it on God, i'm ready to believe" - dang...what a foolish thing to say!

ugh...is it all related? yes? no? i don't know.

babies, faith and sadism

2005-11-26T12:54:00.000-05:00

i think i had a meltdown the other day. ok, time to be totally transparent. i kinda want to share.

so this whole not-having-a-baby thing is killing me slowly. day by day, a piece of me is being tortured and mashed up. i don't know what to do with that. i don't exactly know how to handle it. i am at an odd place in my life right now, i think. mostly because i have a massive amount of faith, yet also no faith at all.
it feels like there is only one (1) thing that is keeping me from going insane. there is one (1) promise, one (1) truth, one (1) hope i am trying desperately to grind my feet into. Psalm 37.4 - "Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart."
This is no easy task, but with every ounce of my will, i'm trying to live this scripture. i'm trying depserately to be delighted simply with God...but wow...it's hard. i am gripping this scripture like it's my lifeline, holding onto it for my very breath. and i honestly DO belive it. i truly DO belive the Lord is going to give me the desires of my heart, which at this point is simply to have a child(ren) of my (our) own. it seems simple enough, don't you think? people are getting pregnant left and right, many of them not even wanting to.
so daily i am thinking this verse, with the promise of God sticking firmly in my head. it is centering to me. it grounds me. and that's a really good thing. it's the only thing i can hold on to here.
there have been dreams, visions, words of confirmation - from God, scripture, friends, strangers- ALL of which proclaim that we will have children, and they will be ass-kickers. i try depserately to hold onto this; to hold onto the reminders and promises that do not come from me, but from others. i remind myself that God can do what he wants to do, when he wants to do it. i remind myself that God loves me, cares about me, knows me by name, is invested in me personally, and hasn't forgotten me.

but doubt is SO strong! so powerful. i wrestle with this, like we all do, and it makes me feel so pathetic and insecure and ignorant. i am bombarded with thoughts that i am forgotten, that this MIGHT NOT happen, that everything i've heard in the past could be false. i am reminded of this daily by other people, by my own thoughts, by my own history. it makes sense that all i've been told could be made up, fabricated just to make me feel better, to give me a false hope. it makes sense that others will be blessed with a child, but i will not- due to some higher cause or some esoteric bullshit meant to inflate my pain to saint-like status, like i'm a martyr for the childless of the world.

i can't live like that. i can't live with my mind in 2 spots. i can't believe 2 things like this. oddly enough, on the day of thanksgiving, the day i am reminded to be thankful for what i have been given, i had a mental crisis. i was forced to face 2 options; belive a promise that may never come true, or belive the reality i'm living that could prove to be false.
i play mental visualization games a lot. can i picture the future? can i picture having a child of my own? can i picture my wife pregnant? can i picture raising something, caring for something, protecting something so fragile and beautiful? it's like i'm trying to gaze into a crystal ball, into my mind, into the future, to see which road of belief i should take. and i can't do it.
i don't know how else to explain this crossroads except i had to decide whether my belief in God was real or not.

mentally i compared the God of the bible with the God of my life thus far. were they the same? did the God of scripture ever promise something yet fail to deliver? did he sadistically toy with his people's emotions? did he offer one thing yet provide another? Christ asks the question, what father would give his son a rock when he asks for bread? or a snake when he asks for fish? If we here on earth know how to give good gifts, how much more will our Father in heaven give us gifts when we ask?! (mt 7.9-11)
i MUST hold this near my heart.

Here's the thing: people are afraid to fully invest themselves. we leave an escape, a way out, a failsafe button. we like to leave a tiny bit of doubt in our minds, just enough to cover our asses in case we're wrong. when i tell people we're going to have a child naturally, the look at me and say, "well, and if he doesn't, that's ok too."
and if he doesn't? what the fuck does that mean??
IF God IS God, then he WILL! because that's what he said he'd do for us.
and even now, there is doubt. like somehow saying "IF...THEN" when referring to God will somehow make God's wrath turn on you and he'll spite you, just because he can, because of your pride and arrogance. i'm tired of that escape. i'm tired of living with a way out. i want to fully invest myself in something, throw my whole heart in there. if it gets ripped to shreds, oh well. but it's being torn in 2 anyway by living with this doubt. my escape has been "God is God, and he can do whatever he wants to do- regardless of what he promises his children." and THAT, my friends, is contrary to scripture. THAT has been my 'out' to save me from being disappointed with God. could it be that the thing i've been disappointed with and by in the past isn't God, but instead it's the nagging escape plan wanting so badly to be used?

in my real life, my working life, here's what i see: i see a father with his daughter every day. and when that daughter asks for something, her father gives it to her with a smile. if the gift is good, she receives it, and he is happy to give. there are times when timing plays a factor, but when the time is right, the father lavishes gifts on his daughter. he beams with happiness at her joy in receiving the simplest gift. and he is HAPPY to give!

how much greater is God?!

so, is this the God i believe in? or will i believe in a God who offers fish, but gives a snake instead? is my God a God of love or of sadism? i'm not going to believe my God is both anymore. i'm going to live fully engaged in one belief of God. i'm not going to give myself an 'out' any longer by saying, "God can do what he wants, and i'm ok with it if he hurts me." because that is not a God of love. a God of torture is not a God of love, and i'm afraid i've confused the 2 for far too long.

does any of this make sense? i feel like i'm rambling, and maybe i am. and maybe this goes beyond just wanting children. maybe it goes into my entire faith structure and belief system. maybe i'm rounding a corner in my life, in my walk of faith. maybe deciding to live without an escape plan is just the thing i need. it will lighten my load, make my faith walk more simplistic, more like a child. maybe i should quit listening to the shits who remind me that i might never have children (and one of those 'shits' is me). and maybe, just maybe, i should take the bible at its word.

bring it on God, i'm ready to believe.

free coffee, rainbows, and penises- what more could you want?

2005-11-14T00:02:00.000-05:00

this tv show is pathetic. category 7: the end of the world, i think it's called. so overly dramatic, trying to cause some panic amongst us non-critical thinkers. so asinine.

enough of that. now, on to something a bit more believable.

i went to church today.

ok- maybe not as believable. but still true.

i went to a church meeting in a coffee house. yes. a coffee house. Relevant Church, meeting at 10.30 sunday morning at the 4 Seasons Internet Cafe'. it truly IS cheaper than a movie, AND there's free coffee!

so, found this place online and decided to try it out. i scoped the locale the day before, found the coffee shop to be inviting, but incredibly small for a church service. very intimate.
i walked in, fearing the worst (being bum-rushed by a ton of exceedingly happy uber Christians running towards me, ready to pump my hand for oil, and slap a nametag upon my breast, alerting my presence to the other exceedingly happy uber Christians, ready to save my soul before they know my name - which, of course, would be emblazoned across my breast). this, thank God, did not happen.
instead, i walk in, and immediately see a familiar face. a friend whom i haven't seen in over a year was standing about 20 feet away, sipping free coffee and chatting away. he did a double take, not sure it was really me, then mouthing the words, "is that drew?" i was instantly happy.
So, praise God, scott sat next to me. his wife Cheryl, a few rows forward, was running power point. a praise and worship band was set up, and within a few minutes, they began.
it was fine. played one song which i love. non-typical song, one that isn't played much, and isn't written by Tomlin or Redman (praise Him). it brought back many great memories, some beautiful moments with God, and softened my steely heart just a bit.
the most interesting part, however, was the lesson. they're doing a series on John Ortberg's book, "God is closer than you think." As you know, i'm not one for fad Christian books. they played a video for the small group study that went along with the book. and i was afraid. pretty cheesy, if i may say.
but then he said something that caught my ear. and here's the thrust of my blog.

in Gen 9.13 we read of God's covenant with noah. a rainbow in the sky. when the rainbow shines, God remembers his promise that a flood will never again wipe out life from the planet. In gen 17.10, we read of God's covenant with Abraham. he got circumcision.

let's see- a rainbow or circumcision. you choose.

regardless, each is a covenant. one, for all the world to see, set high in the sky. the other, not quite for everyone to see, and not quite so high. Ortberg goes on to talk about having 'rainbow' days - those days that the Lord does some amazing things, makes himself incredibly evident to us. I was hoping he would then launch into how some days we have 'circumcision' days. however, he did not.
but i did.

It makes sense that we have rainbow days. it's those moments we almost live for. those moments when it's evident for all to see that God is active, alive, he's making a mark, clear and unmistakable. we long for those moments, those times that reaffirm our faith and reassure us we're not forgotten. but these days are few and far between. that's what makes rainbows so special.

i truly believe we have circumcision days as well. these are the days that cut into us, the days that are incredibly personal, private. these days leave a mark on us. they're not fun at all. but they change us. These days don't happen every day either, thank God, because they are painful ones. but we walk away with a lasting covenant. one that will not go away or fade.

and, there are just some days that nothing seems to happen. days where we completely forget the covenants were even made. it's the days where we get wrapped up in our own life, in our own circumstances. and we sometimes even forget there IS a God. these days make us numb, keep us wandering in the desert. they seem endless.

i know this is a bit lengthy, and you can easily let your mind travel back in time to places you've either seen color in the sky or felt the cut of a knife. but i do hope that the next time you see a rainbow, or look between your legs, you are reminded of promises God has made you.

someone tell me I'M not the crazy one here!

2005-11-03T13:39:00.000-05:00

i haven't posted in a while. been pretty busy as of late. and not just physically busy, like running around. but also emotionally and mentally. so much going on, so much to think about. most of it is good and not too strenuous, but it is time consuming. i've been in the midst of working on several writing projects as of late, and the last thing i've had on my mind is writing for myself, on here.
i'm at an impass in writing for the other things...so maybe i need to dabble here for a bit, and share with you all a story that needs to be told.

ok, so last friday i'm at the doctor's office. the urologist. mind you, have never seen anyone else my age in this place. they deal mostly with prostate problems. i say mostly because that's what the patients in there seem to be going thru. the old men with enlarged ears can't sit comfortably in the waiting room. and each time one of them goes thru the door to get a probe done, the nurse always asks, "do you think you can give me a urine sample today?"
I myself was begging to give a sample. it was 11 am and i got up late, leaving me no time to unload my bladder. it's always fun to pee in a cup, but never fun when you've been holding your urine in overnight. the force at which the urine came out almost drove the plastic cup out of my hands.
I meet with my doctor, talk about results from this test and that test. everything looks normal and fine. blah blah blah. so, i leave the office and go out to my car. sitting in the car, i make a phone call. as i'm talking on the phone, i see a blue Ford Focus, with a plastic american flag hanging out the window, drive up and park kitty-corner to my car, facing me. it contained two old people. very old people. with corrective lenses, the purple-grey hair, the yam colored polyester pants, cardigan sweater, and white velcro shoes. the husband (we'll call him Harold), driving the car, got out and hobbled in towards the building. his wife (she shall be Enid), wearing some type of sunglass insert, just sat in the passenger seat and waited patiently for her lover to return. i kept talking on my cell phone.
a few moments go by, and Enid starts to get out of the car. she slowly opens the door, stands up, and goes to get in the back seat. I find this rather odd, so i start to watch a little closer. Enid doesn't get in the back seat. instead, she pulls out two plastic grocery bags filled with trash. and i do mean filled. they're tied in a knot at the top, and bulging out in all directions. Enid closes her car door, and walks towards me. i can't tell if she's looking at me or not, because her sunglass insert is blocking me from clearly seeing her eyes. but i'm sure we made eye contact at some point.
Enid proceeds to walk in front of my car, to the car on my left. she stands behind that car, bends over, and proceeds to stuff one of the bags of trash underneath the vehicle. i rub my eyes in disbelief. she then stands back up, walks around the car, passing right next to my window, bends down when she reaches the other end of the car, and stuffs the second bag of trash under it. i hang up the phone.Enid now is walking back to her vehicle, head high, orthopedic shoes scuffing the pavement.

ok, you know me. you know i'm not one for much conflict. you know i respect my elders. but this is unacceptable. this 90-some-odd woman just shoved trash under a stranger's automobile, and was about to get in her car and pretend nothing happened. i don't care how old you are... that's just not acceptable.

i get out of the car and say, "Excuse me," to Enid. she continues to shuffle towards the Focus. "Excuse me, ma'am. Is everything alright?" Still i'm ignored. "Ma'am, um...hey you!" Enid turns around. "Hey, um...what are you doing?" i ask.
she shrugs her shoulders and says, "what do you mean?"
"you just put bags of trash underneath this car."
"no, i didn't"
shock and horror creep onto my face. "excuse me?"
"no i didn't. those aren't mine."
"ma'am, i watched you take these out of your car."
"no, no. someone put them by MY car and i just moved them."
shock and anger creep onto my face. "no. you pulled them out of the back seat."
"no i didn't."
shock and rage. deep breaths, drew. deep breaths.

ok...you know know me. and you know i love old ladies to death and flirt with them mercilessly. but THIS is has crossed the line. this old woman is lying to my face! not only is she lying, but she's refusing to back down once caught in her lie! she's refusing to admit any responsibility. this moment instantly turned into something more than just a few bags of trash under a car.

"hey, listen," i say, "i saw you pull these out of your car, you walk over here, and stuff them underneath this car. Why?"
"they're not mine."
"c'mon lady. are you serious?" Enid turns away to go back to her car. i look around to see if there's some hidden camera capturing all this, maybe Ashton Kutcher hiding in a parked van getting ready to tell me i've been Punk'd. i walk to the car with the trash under it and pull the bags out.
"excuse me, but you forgot these." i walk up to her and hold the bags of trash out. "how's about you take YOUR trash and throw them away?"
"no," she says. "i can't. i live in an apartment."
WTF?!?!
"listen lady, there's a trash can right up there by the front door. i know you can walk. so take your trash and put it where it belongs!"
"no, it won't fit in the garbage." and Enid turned her back.
"fine." i say."i'd be happy to take your trash out for you and throw it away, thank you for asking for help." this is a moment from the twilight zone, i swear! I walk past Enid and look in her back seat. there are THREE more bags of trash just sitting in there!!
"hey, want me to take care of the REST of the trash you got here? looks like someone put it inside your car and not just next to it!"
"no no," she mumbled.
"c'mon please. let me take it. it's not heavy at all. in fact, it's pretty light! so light, i'm sure you could even have done this!"
"no, it's fine right there."
"ok," i say. "i'll be back in a second. i'm just going to this trash can that's 30 steps away to throw out your trash."

I walk to the garbage can and stuff her two bags of trash in. closing the lid, i walk back to my car, get in, and sit for a moment. Enid is back inside her car, sitting there, as if nothing ever happened. no thank you, no nod of the head, nothing. I resume my phone call and see Harold walk out of the building. this ought to be good, i think.
Harold got in, started the blue Ford Focus up, and prepared to leave. i put the phone down and stared at Enid. she was sitting in the passenger seat, just as Harold had left her, as if nothing happened. would she tell him? would he be mad and try to beat me up? i'm pretty sure i can take him. he's over 90 years old. i've got a good chance.
they pull out of the parking space, and i look at Enid, sitting there, actually looking smug. I wave to her. a big, happy, friendly wave good-bye, and her head turns upward and to the side. she's ignoring me, blowing me off, pretending she doesn't see me! the blue Ford Focus with the plastic american flag drives away. and i am alone in the parking lot, wondering...did that just happen?

where to start

2005-10-23T23:45:00.000-04:00

it's been a long long time since i put anything into this blog. anything substantial anyway.

just not much to say. but TONS of stuff going on:
painted the living room, cleaned, rearranged furniture, got paint on ajax, cleaned up worms, painted the fence, cut down weeds, cutt shelves, watched tv, froze my ass off at a band competition, payed late fees for movies and library books, babysat eden twice, driven all over the east side, laughed at South Park, cleaned the house again, got stuck in traffic, talked to friends, caught up on life and faith, no reading though, but lots of tv, met with many friends whom i miss, ate chinese, started drinking more water, resisted tobacco, shaved my head with a #2 guard, then wished i had done a mohawk first, eaten a few too many plates of chili cheese fries, sat thru meetings ad nauseum, got new vitamins, cleaned up a mini flood in our basement, got road rage a few times too many, made runs to 7-11 for big gulps, made phone calls to doctors, got mad at doctors, took a walk in the park, cleaned ajax's cage, twice, worked out once, read a magazine and liked it, got spotted at home depot, and a few other things.

now, to bed.

hopefully some of these things will spark some creativity in me.

it's shit like this that makes me not want to be a Christian

2005-10-07T12:59:00.000-04:00

Got this as an email forward today. please shoot whoever started it:

The Resume of Jesus Christ

Address:Ephesians 1:20
Phone:Romans 10:13
Website:The Bible. Keywords: Christ, Lord, Savior and Jesus

Hello. My name is Jesus -The Christ. Many call me Lord! I've sent you my resume because I'm seeking the top management position in your heart. Please consider my accomplishments as set forth in my resume.

Qualifications
• I founded the earth and established the heavens, (See Proverbs 3:19)
• I formed man from the dust of the ground, (See Genesis 2:7)
• I breathed into man the breath of life, (See Genesis 2:7)
• I redeemed man from the curse of the law, (See Galatians 3:13)
• The blessings of the Abrahamic Covenant comes upon your life through me, (See Galatians 3:14)

Occupational Background
• I've only had one employer, (See Luke 2:49).
• I've never been tardy, absent, disobedient, slothful or disrespectful.
• My employer has nothing but rave reviews for me, (See Matthew 3:15-17)

Skills Work Experiences
• Some of my skills and work experiences include: empowering the poor to be poor no more, healing the brokenhearted, setting the captives free, healing the sick, restoring sight to the blind and setting at liberty them that are bruised, (See Luke 4:18).
• I am a Wonderful Counselor, (See Isaiah 9:6). People who listen to me shall dwell safely and shall not fear evil, (See Proverbs 1:33).
• Most importantly, I have the authority, ability and power to cleanse you of your sins, (See I John 1:7-9)

Educational Background
• I encompass the entire breadth and length of knowledge, wisdom and understanding, (See Proverbs 2:6).
• In me are hid all of the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, (See Colossians 2:3).
• My Word is so powerful; it has been described as being a lamp unto your feet and a lamp unto your path, (See Psalms 119:105).
• I can even tell you all of the secrets of your heart, (See Psalms 44:21).

Major Accomplishments
• I was an active participant in the greatest Summit Meeting of all times, (See Genesis 1:26).
• I laid down my life so that you may live, (See II Corinthians 5:15).
• I defeated the archenemy of God and mankind and made a show of them openly, (See Colossians 2:15).
• I've miraculously fed the poor, healed the sick and raised the dead!
• There are many more major accomplishments, too many to mention here. You can read them on my website, which is located at: www dot - the BIBLE. You don't need an Internet connection or computer to access my website.

References
• Believers and followers worldwide will testify to my divine healings, salvation, deliverance, miracles, restoration and supernatural guidance

In Summation
Now that you've read my resume, I'm confident that I'm the only candidate uniquely qualified to fill this vital position in your heart. In summation, I will properly direct your paths, (See Proverbs 3:5-6), and lead you into everlasting life, (See John 6:47). When can I start? Time is of the essence, (See Hebrews 3:15).

Send this resume to everyone you know, you never know who may have an opening! Thanks for your help and may God bless you!

my computer is a hamster

2005-10-04T13:48:00.000-04:00

some days life just rips a hole in your heart for no apparent reason. today, it's not so much a hole as a gash the size of a grapefruit that's now having salt poured into it.

so i come back to my hotel room last night to find my computer has shut down. i knew the battery power was low, but it didn't just go to sleep like it normally does. it shut down. and shut down hard. i didn't think too much of it at that late hour, so i just plugged it in, allowed it to start charging, then fell into a deep sleep on the bed.
this morning, just a few moments ago, i opened my computer up. and when it failed to 'wake up' i remembered that last night it had shut down instead of simply gone to sleep. that's when panic set in.

you see, i had been writing for about 4 hours yesterday. it was a part of my heart there on the screen. it dove deeply into some parts of my heart and told the secrets of me. it was a work in progress, probably one that had no end and would perpetually be in a state of progress. it sat on my desktop, cursor ready to spell out my thoughts in letters. somehow i was under the impression that this was not the last time i'd see this page. i believed my computer felt as strongly about what i'd written, as i did. like somehow my laptop had a part in creating this amalgamation of letters and words and punctuation, and that this freshly typed piece was the answer to all the problems in the world. i believed my computer felt the same way i did about it, and instinctively my computer would guard this with its life. that it would care for it and protect it like a mother to her child.
when my laptop started back up, this piece of me was no longer around. it had been erased. vanished without a trace. i felt betrayal in my very core. how could my computer do this to me? how could it simply delete something it knows i've spent hours on? how could it erase this thing, this journey of words, that it had a hand in creating? my computer did treat this like a mother/child relationship, only my computer was more like a mother hamster and this written piece its new baby. and in some bizarre, sick, perverse reality that lives within the animal kingdom, the mother turned on its young, devouring it, cannibalizing it, and then continued to live and breathe with no hint of remorse.
an unsympathetic person would say, "well, you should have saved as you typed." and they're probably right. but seriously, how often do you expect your computer to completely die instead of go into sleep mode like it does every other damn time? why isn't there some sort of fail safe option or something written into the program to prevent such a tragedy?

to me they say, "that will learn you to save as you go." and to them i'd say, "and hamsters aren't supposed to eat their young."

know what i love?

2005-09-23T01:52:00.000-04:00

kinkos.

wait? what's that? do you smell it? could it be?? yes...YES...i smell sarcasm!!

kinkos sucks big donky schlong. and they like it. a lot.

on a different note. know what else i like?

bots who make comments to my blog.

the end.

dreams and diarrhea

2005-09-16T09:37:00.000-04:00

i can't sleep. don't really know why. was driving for what feels like the past year, but ends up amounting to about 12 hours behind a wheel. that's a long time. we're in a Wal-mart parking lot somewhere near Erie PA on our way to a tiny town in NY state. it's 8 am and raining outside, thunder and lightning and the whole shebang.
i tried to fall asleep around 4 am, and succeeded for a short time, only to be awoken by either a dream of vampires or the sound of someone in the bunkroom snoring. and it seems the combination of those two things that is preventing me from returning to sleep. so i guess that means i'm supposed to waste some time telling you all about it.
the vampire dream was kinda creepy. it wasn't a dream about vampires per se, but more of a dream of a story about vampires that i seemed to be reading in my sleep. the setting was a town called Even Here, and it seemed to be overshadowed by some curse, a la Stephen King, complete with the undead roaming the streets, flying thru the night sky, and feasting on the fear of their victims. as i in my slumber read this book about this town, the words on the pages in front of my eyes began to morph into a visual representation of what i was reading. the last thing i remember is a large gathering of shadows in the sky which turned into a pale face with blood red lips and sharp fangs. as the face rushed towards me i awoke with a slight jump, and a vague remembrance of shutting the book of my dreams, and was left with a lingering feeling of bony fingers creeping around my neck. the only noise was my beating heart, which sounded incredibly loud, but probably only to me, and the quick snores of the stranger named Bill laying across from me in the next bunk.
ah bill.
it's odd meeting new people on the road. sometimes it's very difficult. i'm not sure how much time to invest in this person since, in all likelihood, this will be the only time i ever see him. 3 days worth of polite conversation about not much. i don't want to be rude, and i want to make him as comfortable as possible while he's here. but i don't really want to invest much into this weekend relationship either.
we already had an awkward moment. this morning, at about 3, after i got done driving, i sat down to watch cartoons for a bit before climbing into my bunk. upon our arrival in the parking lot, two people awoke; laura and bill. laura isn't so coherent when she first wakes up, especially when all she wants to do is pee. so she goes and pees and i watch cartoons. bill walks out of the bunkroom after laura goes back in, and somehow bill is wide awake. he is still wearing the clothes he had on the night before. the only suggestion that he'd been sleeping at all is the blindfold he still has on his head. he looks at me, and i kinda look at him, and he sort of stands there, while i try and watch cartoons. we exchange the small talk, which deals mostly with the night so far, and i learn he's not been sleeping so well. apparently he's got gas. already we've exchanged too much information for only a 3 day relationship. he proceeds to tell me that Burger King and he are not getting along, and he thinks he's about to give birth to their love child. he asks me the policy for the use of the bathroom on the bus. i can see in his face that he's in pain.
i'm faced with a dilemma here. generally, the rule for the bus is no pooping. ever. ever. pooping on a bus is poor form. it lingers. it sits in a tank underneath you, where you eat, where you sleep. it stays until we take the bus to a dump station, where it all gets dumped. but the dilemma here is that this guy is new. he's just met us not 8 hours ago, and it's always uncomfortable being the new guy. that type of uncomfortable is magnified exponentially when faced with bowel issues in a foreign land. i'm faced with a choice here. i can allow him to be uncomfortable, to the point of pain and internal damage, and tell him that there is no pooping on the bus. ever. ever. because it's poor form. because it lingers. i could then tell him he's welcome to walk over to Wal-mart, see if they're open, which i already know they're not, and relieve himself there, or in the parking lot, or by the curb, or across the street behind some bushes, in the rain. another option is to drive about a mile away to where the only gas station that's open is located, let him out, and just sit and wait while he does his grunting and pushing, wait for him to eliminate the King, then drive back to Wal-mart and hope he doesn't have round 2. option three is to just say, "hey, dump away."
here we are, two total strangers, faced with the very uncomfortable issue of gastrointestinal pain, and i realize at this moment, i have complete control. i am his master, he is my bitch. i can make this as awful for him as i want. i can let my sadistic tendencies slip out at this early hour, i can make him hold it in, make him really regret ever eating with the King, to the point where toxins would seep back into his body and cause some sort of internal poisoning. i can teach him a lesson about how bad this food is for him and how he must promise me he'll never eat there again before i allow him to release. i can humiliate this man whom i barely know, whom i will only know for 3 days of my entire life. i can provide for him a story he would tell others he knew, those 'most embarrassing moment' stories that he'd look back on with shame and humiliation. i am in control of his destiny, i am all powerful, i am a god!

then i hear my voice say, "hey, dump away."

WHAT?! what am i thinking? what am i saying?! in one moment, an instant, this man now controls me! i am allowing him the upper hand. he now has the power play. he controls not only me, but everyone else on this bus as well. i have handed this bus over to him on a sliver platter by giving him permission to defecate. he's the only one with that permission! he's the only one with privileges here. he's now the King, and we are now just lowly peons and surfs left to shovel his shit out of our castle.

i watch him walk into our tiny bathroom, shut the door, then i turn the tv volume up, to hopefully spare myself from hearing the noises that are about to commence, and to let him know that i know he's about to make a lot of noise, and i'm trying not to listen. my mind is reeling at this point. i try to focus on tv, but my head keeps going back to "hey, dump away" and i'm mentally kicking myself. i know it was probably the right thing to do for this guy, to make him feel more comfortable (as if there is any possible way a total stranger battling liquid poo can feel comfortable in a situation like this) to somehow make this less awkward for him. but i can't help instinctively holding my breath, and then only taking small sips of air, cautiously, warily, awaiting a strong pungent odor to rip my face apart.
a few minutes later, he emerges victorious. i nod at him, thinking he'll just go back to bed, try and rest, try and forget this happened. instead he watches tv with me for a bit, asking me what i was watching, feigning interest, until suddenly he says, "ohp...here we go...round two." oh sweet God in heaven no.
back into the loo he goes, and i now start punching myself for "hey, dump away." how could i have been so caring for this stranger? he means nothing to me! it's a 3 day relationship only, i didn't want to get this involved with him. i didn't intend for any of this to happen. i didn't want to be the one to go over the do's and don'ts of travel bathroom etiquette with this man. i didn't want to be the one to tell him what he could or couldn't do. hell, i didn't want to know about his gas pains, or what he ate tonight, and most of all, how it smells coming out. those things should be reserved for a more intimate relationship, one that will last longer than the life of a tsetse fly, unlike this one.

this all happened before i fell asleep and woke back up again. this all happened at 3 in the morning. it's now after 9, i'm anxious to sleep, people are starting to wake up, and bill has used the pooper twice more.

i think i somehow created a monster.

- part 1 and 2

2005-09-13T11:56:00.000-04:00

pt. 1

for the past 14 hours, my iTunes has been spitting out a streaming radio station called "Totally Acappella" which i happened to stumble upon late last night whilst iChatting with a dear friend of mine. upon further investigation, and about 2 minutes of listening to this streaming station, i was able to deduce this station was created with the express interest of the non-instrumental church of christ constituency in mind. it is all acappella, all the time.
i sat for about 2 hours and listened, relating to my friend, who i cajoled into listening on her iTunes as well, all there is to know about the tiny community of believers who still hold steadfast to the belief that acappella music is the only TRUE worship music. all that instrumental stuff is somehow lacking in spirituality and God's blessing. as the songs would pop on, i'd giggle to myself and reminisce of days in my past when i thought acappella music was the cat's ass. and to be honest, there were still some songs that made me smile, and even sing along. i would smile as i'd see the listings of the artists, see who's singing this version of "Revive Us, O Lord" and remember when i met this or that person, remember performing with them about 10 years ago at a youth rally, remember dating one of them, remember befriending one of them. just so many memories.
i was trying to explain to my friend over iChat how acappella music is its own mini subculture, born out of the church of Christ, my roots, and how it has become a dividing point between brothers and sisters.
I am sitting here, still listening to the station and "Wonderful Words of Life" is playing, as sung by the Dallas Christian Adult Concert Choir, and i feel a little sad inside.
the sadness comes from a few different places i think. maybe it's all the same place. i can't really tell. but a few things come to mind for me about this throwback to my roots.
one side of me is so happy to reconnect with this. it's pleasant to relive some college memories, to relive some really good emotions, to hear songs sung that i used to sing, that i grew up on. it's good to know a few people whom i've known for years are still out there, they're still singing, and based on the tracks being played, they're putting out some really good stuff.
we've started singing more in our shows. it's been a good thing, and has been getting a lot of great response. i had mentioned that to us, our singing was no big deal because we grew up singing like this, 4 part acappella harmony. i'm starting to grasp however, that not everyone has heard this type of singing before. i personally take it for granted because the tradition of our religious background says that only voices are used to praise God with. my friend asked me if i thought all tradition was bad, and i had to say no, it isn't all bad. the good is that tradition can bring us back to our roots, reconnect us with something ancient. the bad part is that the thing that is ancient can sometimes be rotten.
in the churches of christ, the tradition to sing without instruments can, and has, become religion, dogma, law, and identity for many christians. the thought of instruments being used to praise God with is abhorrent. and i'm not sure if the reasoning is biblical or personal. i know the verses that speak of just using voice to praise God, but i also know the verses, which far outnumber the vocal ones, about praising God with all instrumentation.
this leads to the other side of me which is angry and bitter and hurt, but maybe not as strongly as those words suggest. i struggle deeply knowing there are christians out there who would rather condemn people to hell than praise God with an instrument. somehow there is a belief that instruments are a one way ticket to hell, but judging people is our God-given right. i hurt inside because i've been in that place. i've been the judger and the judgee.
i struggle inside because sometimes the acappella music that is being played is just absolute crap. i mean, it sounds awful. but because it's sans instruments, it must be pleasing to God. i struggle because it's so easy to get comfortable in our shells of safety that we're never pushed to take our talents further, go deeper, created more. i hear so many sorry renditions of instrumental praise songs that have been de-instrumentalized so they can be 'more pleasing' to God, but they're sung so poorly that it's difficult for me to believe God finds it more pleasing.
i am not sure i'm doing justice to my anger or hurt, or the feeling of injustice i feel. and that's probably ok. my words can be venom, and i don't want that.
the truth is, i do love acappella music. i love to hear the super tight harmonies, and each individual part being sung so that i can pick it out in a piece. it can truly send chills down your spine. but what i hate is when it's done poorly. it's muddy, flat, out of tune, cheesy, self-righteous. i hate when we cheapen a song by making it acappella, not because it will enhance the meaning of the song, but to make it acceptable in a church of christ worship service.

not sure where this is all headed. i'm still listening to the station. some songs make me mad, others make me smile. i've written a few friends whose music i heard played on here (they are the groups who do acappella music well) and look forward to hearing more of them.

pt. 2

i've thought some more about all this.

i think my frustration comes down to a larger battle waging war in the church. good art versus bad art; good drama versus bad drama; good acappella music versus bad acappella music; good lighting, sound, production versus bad lighting, sound, production. i get irate when things pass for "good enough" in the church setting. and i guess i take it personally.
the other day i was watching tv and flipped onto a video of the drama portion of a certain christian event that travels around the country to minister to teens. this drama was absolutely horrid. it was contrived, weak, unrealistic, unbelievable...even Kat thought it was bad, and she never complains about other people using their gifts for God. but this. this was just bad drama. and i take bad drama personally, because when i see it, it means i just have to work THAT much harder! i feel like i need to prove to people that drama doesn't have to be crappy! especially christian drama!!
we had a rough weekend. long story short, we encountered a lot of mediocre stuff, all being done in the name of Jesus. and honestly, i think that's a slap in His face. i don't want to complain too much right now, because i've done enough of that so far. but it irks me when an event is not set up for success. no planning, no care or concern for lighting or sound, no thought as to what the kids might get into. these are all nitpicky things, but it's what i have to deal with every time we go out for a gig. it's the little things like hiring a guy to do lighting for a stage show, who's only lit bands or done mood lighting for dj's. we try to explain that the lights should be pointed at our faces, so people can see our faces, see the expressions on our faces, and he proceeds to reset the lights so the beams hit us directly in our crotch and our faces are in shadow. that's not setting up for success.
or how about playing a music video during changeover from praise and worship to us. great enough idea. play a video, let the kids enjoy that, while we reset the stage. super, sounds awesome. so, who's idea is it to play a video from the latest Women of Faith conference? 7 women in slacks and high volume hair singing about happy Jesus. yeah...that'll for sure hold the 15 year old's attention!
how about we have 400 junior high kids play dodgeball for an hour, then shuffle them into a tiny room with no windows or fans, so they can jump around for praise and worship, then when they're dehydrated, have them sit and listen to a drama group for 45 minutes. let's also make sure the a/c isn't working, ok?
then, we'll have the drama group tear down most of their equipment and take it to another location, set up, and do a 45 minute show at 10.30 at night for kids who came to see a battle of the bands competition, have no need or interest in God, and would rather should lewd comments at the girls on stage rather than have any type of religious message presented to them.
what happened to setting up an event for success? when did this kind of thing become acceptable for the church? why does there seem to be such lack of thought?
maybe i feel like i'm fighting an uphill battle. a battle against mediocrity, against complacency, against hard headedness and closed mindedness. maybe i feel like it's not paying off at all. like the efforts of my life are futile. there are moments when i know what i'm doing makes a difference. there are moments that change the lives of people. but when those things happen, it feels so much like they are nullified by some other obstacle, some other crappy representation of Jesus. and i feel like we're knocked back down to the ground floor again. each journey out feels like starting up a mountain again. same mountain, same obstacles, just a different day.

it gets tiring. i get tired of fighting the same battles. i get tired of knowing people are still wrapped up in a debate whether instrumental music is good or bad, from God or the devil. i feel like we, as a whole, as a body, should be past all this by now. i feel like we've got to get over our cliche Jesus rallies and invite-your-friends-to-church Sundays. when are we going to stop selling jesus as the next big product that will change your life, and instead just LIVE him? when will people be drawn to God not because the church is giving away a free car and all you have to do is be there to win, but instead they are drawn simply because they smell the aroma of Him on us?

hmmm....i guess my head is full of a lot. upon reading this, i see no real common theme. i go from acappella singing to traditions to good/bad art to poor event planning. the only theme i can see is that i'm ready for some major revival/reform in the christian world. i pray to God it happens soon.

when it rains...

2005-08-31T12:18:00.000-04:00

so, another bitch session. this one may have damaging effects on me though. i've been asleep for the past 18 hours. maybe 20. i don't really know.
the last thing i did was get back from the mechanics, who informed me that my head gaskets are ready to go. there's a leak in them somewhere, allowing oil to flow into the cooling system, and the coolant to flow out the tailpipe. to fix this, it will be about 2000$. this repair is on our GOOD car. we still have 2 others that are in horrid shape.
i say horrid. but not horrid shapre really. just in a position where the cost to fix them is more than the worth of the car. on top of that, we are without funds to fix any of the vehicles. money is tight. no surprise there. it is for everyone who reads this blog. we're all in the same place financially.
so, i have 3 cars that are going to explode at any moment.
yesterday, while writing a blog about "blue like jazz" my computer had a meltdown. kernel panic, i believe it's called. right as i was about to upload this damn blog i had worked on for about 45 minutes, the screen freezes up, goes gray, and a box pops up, filled with warnings in all different languages. the kernel panic box. meaning something went wrong. so my data was lost. not all my data, which has happened before, but just the unsaved data. on top of that, my battery dies on me. so i can't restart the dang computer because it doesn't have enough juice.
added to all this stress, i had to give another semen analysis and have a urinalysis at the hospital yesterday. it's just very depressing to have to keep going thru all this, with no apparent answers in site. i got the results back, and nothing is changing. in fact, i think my count is lower than before. on top of that, there's a white blood cell count in my urine, which is abnormal. upon doing research via the web (which obviously makes me an expert now) that's usually a sign of prostatitis. not sure what that means, but it's not good. probably not life threatening, but still not what would be considered 'healthy'.
throw onto all of this a massive sinus infection that NO amount of drugs have been able to wipe out, and add on a nice helping of gas prices going thru the roof, when money is already incredibly tight ...

i went to bed to escape.

it was happier in my dream world.

some days i wish i could live there.

what time is it?

2005-08-19T18:12:00.000-04:00

it's been an odd few days, or maybe weeks, i can't tell the difference anymore. time seems to move on its own accord, giving no points of reference as it ages, the dark and light don't seem to make much difference.
there has been a blanket of sorts thrown over me. i can't quite put my finger on where the blanket came from, or why it's there, but i know it feels like fuzzy. it's the type of fuzzy that wraps around you, touches you everywhere at once, making your skin overload with sensation; so overloaded that it begins to shut down. the fuzzy is a good feeling at first, but soon becomes almost numbing. it is soft and warm and cozy, but over too much time, it becomes a deprivation chamber.
somehow that's the best way to describe the passing of time as of late. i can't measure it in days, or hours, or events, but merely acknowledge that it was there, and has gone somewhere else.
i think i've accomplished things. but if you ask me what i've done, i can't tell you with certainty. i have the impression that my days have not been wasted, but yet that i haven't lived life to the fullest. it's been a period of 'om' - a time of nothingness, but somehow filled with everything.

we've been living in the bus lately, down here, further south than is smart during the summer months. florida, georgia, alabama, the air thick with wet, full of hot. we're staying in a state park, surrounded by moss-dripping trees and spiders the size of hamsters, giving the illusion of having magically transported ourselves to some distant land far away from civilization, but in reality the 18-hole golf course and new condominium development are just on the other side of that line of brush and bramble.
it's been a nice quiet time as of late. no pressure, no schedules, no agendas. just a chance to sit back and allow time to wash over us. it's good to give ourselves a chance to do nothing. granted, we have done things, but the difference seems to be we weren't scheduled to do them. we did them in our own time.
but i can't live like this forever. i'm ready to get back to life, to deadlines, demands, civilization. i have enjoyed this moment to do nothing, but i want the other life back. it's more stable, believe it or not. i need a schedule. i like to have deadlines.
hell, i don't have THAT much to do in normal life. maybe it's not the due dates, but more the waking life schedule that seems to happen simply because the rest of the world runs by the clock.
it seems the schedule i'm forced to keep is one set by other people. if i could go to the post office at 1.30 in the morning, i'd be a happy man- but unfortunately not all of society runs on my time schedule. there are moments i wish everything was 24hr convenience. but if that were so, i'd have no reason to get out of bed before 4pm.
it's this real life deadline stuff that brings me motivation throughout the day back at home. wanting to be first or at least 11th in line at the DMV is reason enough to get up and start the day at 8am. being able to go into the bank and get cash for all the pennies i've collected is why i'd get up by 10. Scheduling a doctor appointment before 9 is a good thing for me. otherwise, why get up?

i've enjoyed my time in the bus, in the world of timelessness. but i can tell how detrimental it is for me. it puts me into a lazy coma- one i can never escape on my own. maybe that's who i really am; a lazy coma loving man who eats too much sugar. But i want more than that. i want a schedule, a purpose, a time crunch to make me wake up and live.

oh, who am i kidding? we're not leaving till tomorrow. i'm going back to bed.

Deuce Biga-pain-in-my-ass-o

2005-08-12T00:01:00.000-04:00

for the love of God, PLEASE!!! Get this movie into theaters NOW, so it can go right to DVD in a WEEK, so i don't have to listen to these inane, asinine, and insulting previews any longer!

UGH!! it haunts my dreams!

"aww, deucie"

/urp

and while i'm on the topic, who the hell decided a SEQUEL was a GOOD IDEA?!

someone skin them, scalp them, shoot them...NOW!

colorado surreality

2005-08-08T01:58:00.000-04:00

so- the past few weeks have been a flurry of activity, emotion, and events peppered with hours of nothingness. those hours of void are usually the times i'm behind the wheel at 3.32 in the morning, hauling ass across Nebraska, hoping my diet coke and twizzlers are enough to keep me awake.

we've covered a lot of places this past week alone. in fact, a week ago we were in pennsylvania enjoying the nerd expo, and within a week, we've driven across 14 state lines and covered over 3000 miles.

the week was seasoned with moments of grief, frustration, exhaustion and futility as well as joy, rapture, unity and pure bliss. i shall briefly go thru the awful part to get to the fun stuff.

our drive train broke. yeah- it blew out. right as we left wal-mart's parking lot. we're moving our beast of a vehicle to head back to Colorado State to perform. just as we turned a corner we hear a giant KA-WHAMO and stop dead in our tracks. with cuss words already emanating from my lips, we jump out to see a piece of our undercarriage laying against the pavement. bits of metal were strewn about and an acrid smell wafted thru our noses. the good news of all this (if you can call it that) is it was just the drive train, and not the transmission. Lord knows i've had enough trans problems in my life *i.e. Boomin' Granny Car, 1986 Honda Accord Hatchback* so when we realized it was JUST the drive train, a slight sigh of relief issued forth. barely audible, mind you, but it was there.

we proceeded to push, yes, push our bus out of the intersection we were now blocking and back into the parking lot. amidst this, we had several cars pull up behind us, while in motion backwards, and sit there, staring at this behemoth auto rolling slowly towards them. idiots.

eventually, the tow truck came and hauled us away, and we were assured it would be fixed soon enough.
three days later, it was fixed. this put us in a predicament since it wasn't ready in time to keep us on schedule to get back to the larger chicago area to deposit matt so he could drive to a wedding on saturday. so, matt and his girlfriend caught a flight to chicago, leaving just ryan and i to traverse the many miles back to toledo. not an ideal situation, but we managed. we're survivors, ain't nothin' gonna break'a my stride, ain't nothin' gonna hold me down...oh no! i got to keep on movin'!

now that the ugly is out of the way, let me say i had a fantastic time in colorado, despite the rain, cold, endless walking, and lack of a bank close by. imagine that, a college campus and no banks within walking distance. just atm's strewn about. not helpful when one needs change.

the best part of the week was getting a chance to drive down to Longmont to see some friends. the Lukasiewicz family will kill you with cuteness! check them out here to get the complete bio of this amazing group. 8, count them, 8 kids plus mom, dad, and occasionally grandma Jean. well, we'd met Danika a few years prior at a show, and thru the grace of God, we've kept in touch with them all. it is truly a treat to get to see them perform. and that was our goal for the day we visited Longmont.

however, we didn't quite realize that their venue was at the Red Hat Society of Longmont's meeting. we walked into the hotel ballroom, aurally greeted by the sounds of fiddles and sweet voices singing, and visually by an amalgamation of red and purple, which created somewhat of a 'throw up' look. if you're unaware of what exactly the Red Hat Society is, please take a moment to investigate for yourself. who knows, you might even want to join!

the concert lasted for about an hour, with an amazing demonstration of fiddle playing, sugary sweetness, props, costumes, and a plethora of red hatted divas swooning and singing along. here's a few pictures for your amusement:

danika, taylor, ty, roni, tim, chase, travis, and tori (try saying that 5 times fast)

ty on upright

workin' in a coal mine

travis and his woman

'nuff said

so, it's late, and we just got home tonight. i'm tired, but wanted to update you and hopefully bring a smile to your face. this roller coaster ride has been unexpected and surprising. now, i hope to sleep it off.

God has a sense of humor

2005-07-31T16:01:00.000-04:00

ok- i know i bitched and moaned about my day, about the venue, the band, speaker, haircut, expensive shitty coffee, etc- but i swear to you, this saturday made it ALL worth it!

check this out:

that's right folks- this saturday at the venue we had a genuine comic book and toy expo, complete with star wars nerds dressed in full regalia (as you can see), also including Butch Patrick (of the munsters fame) and the Soup Nazi!

not only that, but right next door to the comic book and toy expo was a computer expo! tons of computers, computer cables, computer books, computer programs, computer monitors, computer keyboards, all things computers!

i'm telling you, this day was a nerd's wet dream! i've never seen so many men who live at home with their parents in one place before!

yes- i'm sure i am going to hell for mocking these people ruthlessly. but c'mon... you KNOW God the Almighty gets a laugh out of them too. true, he's not really mocking them- he's enjoying their... uniqueness. he's celebrating their quirks. so that's what i'm doing too. i'm enjoying, reveling in, and appreciating the uniqueness and quirkiness of the patrons of the comic book and toy expo, and the computer expo.

'twas a good day.

i feel like charlie brown here

2005-07-29T23:33:00.000-04:00

today, nay, this entire weekend has proved to be one of many giant challenges for me. so, sit back, get ready for a long-winded bitch session on my part.

we're in pennsylvania (there's your first hint at how evil life is treating me), the venue sucks - poor lighting (that is to say, our ankles were lit supremely well, but nothing else on stage above the knee could be seen), poor sound, lots of emotions going on since this is our first gig without tony, not to mention the speaker is not one of our favorites for various reasons, (if you know about the "2 nice-y" game we play to keep someone from putting down themselves, then this guy would be the poster child -- one can only handle so many jokes about being a "mega church" in one weekend, and you can handle even less of this guy preaching to people that Jesus loves them, right IN THE MIDDLE OF TELLING a "mega church" joke, discrediting any truth that might get thru to the audience, by putting himself down on stage over and over, ad nauseam, reminding us how fat he is), the venue set up has 400 kids, all sitting at round tables holding 8 to 10 jr or sr high students a piece.
now- honestly, most of what i mentioned is just me being a baby, whining about poor production and planning on the part of the folks that brought us in.
but this...this next bit really makes me feel like forces outside my control are out to kill me, or at least make me cry.

after the show last night, they had an after party of sorts for the kids. they had DDR, carnival games, and the "$5 challenge" which is actually a race to see who can down a cup of "something" that is mixed in a blender, poured into cups, passed out, and then thrown down your throat. and if you get it down first, you win, what else, $5. so i'm game of course. but i instruct them to leave out the crackers, cream of mushroom soup, and the oatmeal, due to diet restrictions. they then add blue hawaiian punch, maple syrup, vienna weenies, spinach, saurkraut, chili powder, corn, fruit cocktail, bbq baked beans, and more syrup. i, of course, won. the problem however, was that while downing the drink, i somehow closed off part of my throat and the mixture went up the back of my nose. i mean, chunky chili powder kraut in my sinuses. i didn't puke, but wish to God i had, because it just festered inside me. i wanted to die- but at least i had $5.
until the gurgles started. i spent about 45 min on the pot, squeeking out turds that smelled like evil.
now, onto this morning. the coffee maker in the hotel room is pretty pathetic, so this morning i go down to buy coffee for myself and kat. one americano + extra shot and a no foam latte. both no larger than 12 oz. the grand total? $9!! yes- 9 fucking dollars for 2 coffees. mind you, i'm so stunned that i PAY for it!
still recovering from the previous night, and trying not to swear (which was difficult because of the speaker talking yet again about his weight and how in the OT when the priests gave a sacrifice, the priests got the meat, and God got the fat, so he must be ultra pleasing to God cuz he's SO fat (which he's not, i might add), i try for an hour to shake this awful feeling that i just got rammed up the ass by the little old lady making coffee in the hotel lobby.
we do our show and i decide it's time to get my hair cut. so i go across the road to the mall and find a salon which looks reputable, put my name in and get to spend 45 minutes waiting. i fell asleep at the mall. i had set my phone alarm just in case, and as it went off, i opened my eyes to see myself surrounded by old people. lots of them. like 17. all parked around me, watching me, pointing at me. i wipe drool from my lip and go down to get some hairs cut.

"i like my hair just like this, it's just too heavy and a bit too long. i love it messy so i just want it trimmed up a bit."

apparently Holly didn't understand the word "trim" too well. i walked out of there with the hair on the back of my head completely gone. i mean, my hair tapers down to my skin. the "trim" had become a "chop" and i wanted to cut it all off when i walked out. i mean, it's not awful...but let's just say i walked into a room and Matt didn't recognize me. no one in the group did. yeah- it's a drastic change. more than i wanted.
i went into the bathroom at the food court to try and undo the damage she'd styled into my head. as i went into the bathroom, i was greeted by a foul smelling wall of odor. before attacking my hair i go to take a piss and end up getting urine all over my shorts due to backsplash from that oh so lovely angle of the urinal bowl and fragrance cake (which wasn't working to take away the smell). i go to wash up and finally adjust the hair when loud noises come from the stall behind me. loud chthonian noises. i look at the floor behind me and see gum wrappers, like 40 of them, scattered about some senior citizen's feet as he relieves himself of some bowel obstruction. while the noises were still coming forth, i see the door open and him start to walk out while he hikes up his pants, not chewing gum. i dunno. i was afraid to ask.

so, feel pity on me. just do it. i don't wallow in self pity TOO often. just allow me this moment, knowing full well it too shall pass.

just another day.

public service announcement

2005-07-26T16:47:00.000-04:00

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Thanks,
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thunderstorms

2005-07-23T20:02:00.000-04:00

we drove back home the other night from louisiana. from our last gig with tony as a part of our group. we stopped off in indy to visit a friend and ate like kings. lots of meat. mmm, meat. which is good, because i haven't had much protein lately. on the way out from indy we encountered some major thunderous activity. tons of lightning, filling the clouded sky with blue white strobe light. moments of being able to see, and then darkness again. i love the feeling of temporary blindness during a night storm. for a moment, instantly you see, your pupils narrowing, protecting your eyes from the blinding light, and just as fast as sight comes, it's dark again and your eyes go wacky trying to adjust, pupils dialating to capture any light left behind. just as they readjust to the darkness, you're hit again and are blinded for another instant, with only a faint memory of your surroundings.

i had called my mom on the way home and asked her to get online and check the weather for indy. the wind had started blowing rain in a horizontal direction, and when the clouds were illuminated, there seemed to be a greenish hue high above. she took a look and said, "oh honey, you're driving thru all sorts of shit! you're surrounded by a lot of red, and yellow, some orange, and green!" i couldn't help but chuckle at her forcast. if only the weathermen on tv explained the precipitation that way. "all of you in wayne county, be on the look out for a line of red headed your way. when it gets to you, cover your ass."

as we drove, i couldn't help but remember what it was like when i was a kid, watching the storm outside my window at home. i'd wait in anticipation for the lightning, hoping i'd be watching right when it struck the tree in front of our house, sending it up in flames. wouldn't that be a killer story for 'show and tell' the next day?

Storms have always facinated me. the raw power and magnitude of them are intoxicating. there were a line of twisters that ripped thru our neck of the woods last fall, and i tried to chase a few of them. there's something majestic about storms, even thought they are so incredibly dangerous.

little kids, pets, some adults, are terrified of storms, and i can see why. they're unpredictable and powerful and deadly. but as i watched the lightning flash outside on our drive home, i couldn't help but think about the parallels this storm has to my own life.

all around me, lightning going off like firecrackers, lighting up the sky, knowing that somewhere out there is the recipient of that other end of the bolt. somewhere over the horizon there's something burning due to the magnitude of heat generated in that flash. somewhere there's destruction being done. a storm is a powerful thing but at the same time, its beauty radiates just as strong.

i never fear storms. i never get so afraid that i have to cover my head. i'm not afraid to go out in them and experience them as personally as i can. because storms make you feel alive somehow. storms remind you that you're not in control. that you, at any moment, can get hit, rocked, nailed, set ablaze. but when you look up into the sky, seeing the clouds in three dimensions, back lit by electricity streaking thru the air, there is peace and serenity too.

it may be the same in life too. i am constantly going thru storms of my own. often the lightning is striking the very ground where i stand. and in those moments, i am freaked out beyond belief. i can feel the heat, the hair on my arms is singed. but when i gather my wits i am able to look and see the beauty surrounding me. the moments my world is supernaturally lit up and i see things in a new light.

one summer while we were in southern colorado, a thunderstorm rolled in. major heat lightning, not much rain, strong winds. i took our rental car for a drive, found a spot nestled in between two mountain ranges, parked the car and jumped onto the roof. i stood there, eyes gazing upward, and tried to predict where the next bolt of lightning was going to hit. this storm was encircling me, just above the mountain peaks. i was engulfed in electric fire from heaven. the mountains turning black in the shadow of the flash, and then instantly becoming granite brown when it disappeared. it was beautiful.

and as i type this, the storm clouds are rolling in. i pray there's lots of lightning.

i need to see life in a new light.

one step closer to metro

2005-07-17T15:22:00.000-04:00

i got my back waxed today.

ok, i'll wait for you to stop laughing.

still waiting...

still waiting...

ok. so we're here in pittsburg kansas for a while before we head to our next gig. there's a coffee shop here in town (it's the only one, mind you) which kat and i stopped at yesterday for our daily fix. upon entering it, we learned they also had a tanning salon and spa attached to it. great combo, eh? they used to also sell health food, but had stopped doing that a while ago (which is sad, cuz it was the only place in town to buy wheat free products). so we went there yesterday, saw a brochure for their body services, and saw that back waxing only cost $35. mind you, i've been searching for a place to give me a hairless back for a while. mostly they cost at least $50, if not more. so i jumped on a chance for a $35 wax job.

Dimitri was my waxer. he was from Russia, somewhere east of moscow, with a thick accent and bad hair. wearing sweat pants and a black polo, he asked me to strip off my top and roll my pants down a bit, so he could get to the small of my back. face down on the table, my head in that little circle pillow, he began to prep my back. and i gotta say, it felt great! back rub, hot towels, massage oils, and an Enigma mix tape playing in the background.

of course it was slightly uncomfortable, but i had to get over that pretty quick. we talked all about the benefits of waxing, getting a massage as body maintenance (there was some equation of getting a rub down to getting an oil change, and i couldn't help but have a stream of 'dip stick' jokes run thru my head). he told me about the wax product he was slathering on my shoulder blades and told me that Fabio was the spokesperson for this product. boy, that made me so much more comfortable.

he asked me all about my pain tolerance as he placed a strip across my back, pressing it into place, affixing my hair to it. he asked about my tattoos, if it hurt when i got them, and i couldn't remember if it had or not. with his spare hand pulling my skin taut, he ripped the first strip of cloth off my back. and i LOVED it!!

sure, it was painful, but not nearly what i thought it would be. it felt more like someone ripping a spare sweater off my body in the middle of summer. very freeing and liberating, with a rush of cool air to my skin. he asked on a scale of one to ten how much that hurt, and i had to say 4 or 5. apparently that was pretty low, because he seemed impressed. then we got to my upper back and shoulder blade area. the pain heightened to about an 8. he would rip a strip off, then press the place it had just left. he informed me that there are 5 receptors in the skin; hot, cold, pain, touch, and pressure. he said he was tricking my brain by confusing my skin- when the pain receptors started to get overloaded, he'd apply pressure, engaging those as well, somehow shorting out the pain. i'm thinking about trying that trick the next time i cut open my flesh or stub my big toe. somehow i doubt it will work.

but now, i am hair free. my shirt feels foreign to my back. an odd sensation, and i'm pretty sure my skin is working overtime trying to make heads or tails of this new sensation called 'cotton' that is now caressing it. overall, the experience was fantastic. yeah, it really was. dimitri said people can get addicted to waxing, and i believe him. it was not as humiliating or as painful as i'd imagined. nothing at all like that preview in "hitch" where kevin james is getting his back done.

but the best part of it all was when dimitri asked what i did. i said i travel for a living doing shows, and he got a little excited. he then asked, "oh, are you in the Chippendale's show? it comes thru joplin sometimes."

hmmm.

*grin*

i gave him 7 bucks tip.

"so, what'd you have for lunch? "

2005-07-15T20:39:00.000-04:00

"i had mexican food."
"cool. where'd you go?"
"oh, mexico."

yeah- i stopped over in mexico for a few hours last thursday. how often do you get to say that?

here's a few pics for you:

a sidestreet of the city of matamora- 102 in the shade

kid begging on the streets, playing some pretty kick ass tunes on his accordian

window display - kinda creepy

traveling companions buying $10 3-piece suits, and the local folks looking on with curiosity and possibly some disdain

and now pics of our time in San Antonio, which happened yesterday:

REMEMBER THE ALAMO!!

the wax museum's pet

"my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard"

my 'souvenir' picture

well - that's all for now. just pictures. maybe stories will follow later. but probably not.

do not drive into smoke

2005-07-10T16:57:00.000-04:00

i saw an armadillo on the side of the road today. its pink little legs sticking straight up into the air, fleshy underbelly bloating in the sun, the carcass gently rocking to and fro, moved by the backdraft of each passing semi. it was a sad, depressing sight to see. the armadillo, this time no match for the wheel that brought about its demise, is one of those amazing creatures that when you do get a chance to see it in the wild, you feel like you've been given special privilege to witness a miracle of creation.

it's exciting and beautiful to see wildlife in real life *meaning not on tv*. whenever i drive the bus at night, i am constantly on the lookout for deer on the side of the road, grazing nearby, unaware of the danger that lay just 15 feet to the left of them as i whiz by in 45,000 lbs of white metal and steel. to see deer grazing, or just standing there, staring at my headlights, is quite exciting. there's a rush of adrenaline, a power surge, like a game of russian roulette, not knowing if they'll stay their ground or jump out across the road, playing a real life version of Frogger with you.

oh, the beauty of getting to glimpse Nature herself; surprised, caught red-handed, as if she's about to steal a cookie from the jar and you happen to round the kitchen corner to witness her removing the lid and wrapping her hand around the last oatmeal raisin. you're stealing a moment from God, thrust into a room you were never meant to see. and then, as quickly as you came upon it, it's past. going 68 mph down the highway doesn't allow for much time to sit and soak in the beauty. and if you blink, you miss it entirely.

unfortunately, there is also the lesser side to seeing nature while driving. that's what i saw today. it's the dead armadillo on the side of the highway. dead raccoon, dead muskrat, dead dog, dead cat, dead deer. death has a way of making something beautiful and amazing look rather disturbing and unnatural. makes you shield your eyes. makes you feel not like you're privileged to see it, but rather being punished for sins you may or may not have done. it's an image burnt into your mind for some reason. maybe to haunt you in your dreams, or maybe to slowly numb you, one carcass at a time.

the moments of dead meat smattered on the road seem to have a lasting and stealth-like effect on me, desensitizing me to violence and carnage. maybe that's the intent. but it's doing something else, perhaps a byproduct of me being exposed to the yuck. it's allowing me to see in great detail, and cherish deeply, the moments of beauty i'm allowed to witness. it is providing me a true appreciation for the breaths of God manifested in natural art. picture perfect moments, too perfect to be made by human hands, meant just for me.

i have fallen in love with sunsets. the colors, the hues, the supernatural paint streaking across the horizon. sunsets have become my rainbow, a reminder to me that God is still there, in control, not forgotten me. and in moments i feel utterly lost and alone and helpless, i can look to the west and see a larger than life mural painted on the sky just for me and no one else. and i sit and watch the sun float lower, the colors blend and deepen, and my heart swells with humility and honor that the Lord would put on such a display of his love of creativity just for me. it is a moment between me and God, where he makes the horrors of life melt away and sits me down to put it all into perspective again. i sit for a moment, a minute, eternity, and when i blink or walk away, whichever comes first, and the spell is broken, i breathe deep and feel the Lord surround me.

Moments of fleeting beauty and awe would mean nothing without those horror images of bloody streaks on pavement to show me how dark it can get. not that i need reminding of how dark it can get. i live surrounded by darkness most of the time. but these visual reminders of decay versus beauty on the side of the road run a great parallel in my spiritual walk. i often put the car on cruise control and zone out for many miles at a time, occasionally noticing a mile marker go by, or seeing a billboard now and again. but these messes on the road always get my attention. they almost become overwhelming to me, bogging me down, and i start to fixate on the chunky slaughter covering the shoulder of my path.

and then i see something out of the corner of my eye, a brief glimpse of true beauty, something meant just for me, gone in a blink, and filling me again with the life and hope and awe i need to go a few more miles. it erases the deadness, reminds me to keep an eye out for beauty along the sidelines, urging me on, promising to reappear somewhere down the road, as long as i keep looking.

if i am unwilling to acknowledge the bloody death on the side of the road, i cannot appreciate the true beauty in life on the side of the road. if we are afraid of what's ugly and disgusting and vile, then we'll be afraid of what's beautiful and perfect and pure. it is the paradox of life. good cannot exist without evil. otherwise, good has no comparison with which to make it, by definition, good.

so, why do i fear the face of death? why do i fear that which is messy and bloody and vile? it can only mean that when i come thru it, when i pass by it, when i conquer it, i will appreciate life and beauty and joy that much more. it will deepen my thanksgiving and appreciation, my sense of peace and exquisiteness of the simplicity of life. it will bring me to a more intimate moment of communion with the Father.

along I-44 in oklahoma, there are signs posted at regular intervals that say "Do Not Drive Into Smoke" and i think "what an odd sign." i'm not really sure why they have signs up that say this. i see there are ditches on either side of the road, so maybe they're afraid that if we drive into the smoke, we'll somehow end up in a ditch, or worse yet, in the middle of the actual fire causing all the smoke. but if i don't drive into the smoke when there's smoke across the road, i won't go anywhere. i'll just sit there. i understand there's danger in the smoke, there's the unknown in the smoke. but waiting for us on this side of the smoke there is stagnancy. you go nowhere. just sit and wait for it to blow over. the ultimate goal should not be to avoid the smoke, but to make it thru, out the other side, and see what's waiting for you there.

so, why not drive into and thru the smoke? without ever finding yourself in the midst of being lost and disoriented, you never feel the joy of finally breaking free of the thick and stifling smokiness, and inhaling pure air once again. you cannot appreciate the openness and freedom without first being confined. you cannot appreciate beauty without first seeing that which is hideous. you cannot know safety unless you've been in danger.

so i watch the side of the road as i travel. there is so much to encounter; that which would make your stomach turn, and that which will make your heart leap. glimpses made just for you, and opportunities to pass thru the fires to see what's on the other side.

just after seeing the armadillo dead on the shoulder, i passed over a shallow creek. looking down into the water flowing lazily under me, i saw a crane near the water's edge. i saw it vividly, a sharp blue-gray contrast against the rusty red, mud-tinted water, its border made green by reeds and grass. the crane, alone and obviously unaware of my gaze, spread his wings and began to fly heavenward, allowing me to glimpse a moment in his life.

just an instant, a stolen moment. made just for me.

Boomin' Granny...back from the dead!

2005-07-07T15:08:00.000-04:00

a story to make your day better.

i had to move my car (spare car actually- doesn't run so well, due to some transmission problem) because there was a land crew coming in to survey the area. found out yesterday afternoon it had to be gone by 7am today. went to start it last night, and... nothing. tried to jump it for about an hr and still nothing. was gonna put it in neutral and roll it out of the way, but no luck. apparently the trans problems were locking the wheels up. so, last night at 1, i ran out to meijer to get a battery to install this morning, hopefully before 7. of course, i slept thru my alarm and awoke to men banging on my front door, upset my vehicle was still there.

so, i threw on a hat and some pants, and proceeded to embarrass myself by trying to change a car battery. mind you, i'm not too mechanically inclined, so it was a bit of a struggle. plus it's 7 am, and i don't usually function until at least 10, maybe 11. so, armed with some ratchets and no coffee, i try and change the battery on my 1989 delta 88.

i open the hood and, seeing the battery for the first time in daylight, realize that this is probably the first time the battery had ever needed to be changed. the bolt holding it down had rusted and nearly fused itself to the car. i search for the right size ratchet, not so simple when you have a box full of loose ratchet heads, repeating the mantra "lefty loosey, righty tighty" and i started getting my hands dirty. with no wd-40 in sight, i grab the next best thing: olive oil. slathering up the bolt, i manage to nearly break every knuckle on my left and right hands. all while being watched by the work crew and the maintenance crew for our complex. how fun is that?!

after about 45 minutes of struggle, i get the dead battery loose (and yes, i was torquing the wrong way! damn mantra!). meanwhile, the survey crew just looks on at me- can't tell if they're laughing, mocking, pissed, or a combination of all of the above. finally getting the new battery in place, i start connecting the positive wire. when it comes time for the negative, i can't find it anywhere. there is no sign of a black tipped cable- the very cable i'd removed from the dead battery only 5 minutes before. the work crew guy comes and helps look. mystified, he can't find it either. i'm very glad this man was looking for the damn cable with me, because otherwise people would think i had gone bonkers. there's no way a huge cable can just disappear from a car. but there we sat, dumbfounded and blind as bats. the man, owner of the survey company i believe, was incredibly nice, despite my inability to fix a car.

he smoked a cigar. not a good one- a very cheap one. but not the kind that actually smells nice and 'sweet.' no, no, this man picked stinky cigars to help wake him up. he was about 58, white hair, burly, white t-shirt, gold bracelet, gold watch, and reeking of rancid cheap cigar. he and i, stuck under a hood together, wasps flying around our heads (apparently, wasps find cars that sit for a while the perfect place to start a family and invite friends over for tea), him exhaling stinky cigar smoke into the engine, me trying not to inhale, and both of us looking as lost as tourists in tokyo.

13 minutes later, he sees it tucked up under the radiator. i put it on as quickly as possible, asking him all about the difference between asphalt and concrete, trying to keep his mind occupied, and off my ignorance.

i get the battery on and start the car with a beautiful rev of the engine. a wave of exhilaration washes over me at the accomplishment of putting a new battery into a car, and not having it blow up, catch on fire, or shoot battery acid into my face. i slide the gear shift into reverse and nothing happens. i begin to panic, and start shuffling it thru all the gears. Everyone is watching now, waiting for me to get my ass in gear (pun intended) and move my pathetic vehicle so they can do their job and get on with life.

it finally locks into drive- but i can't drive forward because all that's in front of me is my lawn and the work crew. after some cussing and more violent shifts of the gear stick, it finally catches in reverse. i floor it and almost take out another parked car. but, with my delta 88 firmly in a safe parking spot i turn it off, get out, and try to gather as much pride as i can muster. i walk past the work crew, head held high over my amazing abilities to use change a battery , gather my tools, and go back into the house, triumphant and victorious.

so that's my morning today before 10am.
hope that brightens your mood a bit.

now, i'm gonna go do something productive with my life. i feel a surge of invincibility.
: )~

well crap

2005-07-06T00:10:00.000-04:00

no milk in the house.

i'm hungry.

i got cocoa pebbles, though.

but no milk.

hmmm...i got coffee.

word of advice, don't substitute dark roast coffee for milk in cocoa pebbles.

the result is less than stellar.

*urp

why does my life seem to revolve around poo?

2005-06-25T17:04:00.000-04:00

ok, so here i am in downtown indianapolis, in the food court of the Circle Centre Mall, and it hits. i gotta go...right now! but this is the problem because i don't really want to defecate in the mall. in fact, i want to go back to my hotel room to take care of the business. but i can sense from the movement in my lower region that i don't have enough time to walk the 9 blocks to my hotel, not to mention trying to get up and down stairs and in and out of doors between here and there. so, i survey my options, which are limited, and decide the most effective place to unload would be between Fruttila Cafe and Cajun Grill Bayou Cafe in the public restroom there.

mind you, when i poo, it's a process. i'm not an 'in-and-out' kinda guy. i like to sit, to relax (which helps in the removal process), i take my time and i hate to be rushed. so, i walk into the mens room, armed only with my cell phone in hand, and look for an open door. i can see there are 4 stalls and 2 of them are empty. so i begin my quest for a suitable throne.

i walk right past the first stall, simply because it's next to the urinals, and i like to be a little more buried into the room than that. the first stall feels exposed somehow, even with walls all around it. it feels like the part of you that would get frostbite first if you were naked in a snowstorm; vulnerable and uncovered. so there's no possible way i can achieve that zen-like relaxation i need to make this venture a success.

stall two is occupied. i can tell from the door being closed, and not from peeking in thru the cracks. because that's just inappropriate to do. as i walk up to stall two, there's a flush and the door to stall three opens. a man walks out, obviously satisfied, and moves out of the stall hall. now his stall is open but it's not right to take another man's throne right after he vacates. at least let the seat cool down a bit first. so i move right past three to stall four.

stall four. that's where this story turns down the bad road. stall four is the stall that nightmares are made of. it's why janitors and custodians deserve a raise, promotion, and a key to the city. stall four is as foul as i can imagine. it's amazing to me, first of all, how any human can actually have this stuff come out of himself, let alone leave it there for someone else to clean up. whatever was at the bottom of that bowl was hefty enough to cause a major backup of some kind. must have been the first thing out of that person because there was a ton more floating in the water on top of the plug. you could tell the 'mad bomber' had tried to clean stuff up and had at least flushed once, maybe twice, because the water level had risen so high the contents were poking their proverbial heads out well above rim level. the scene was pure evil. toilet paper, wet and dry, filled the stall, on the floor, on the seat, on the walls, all over the place. and the smell...

stall three it is.

This stall will do. it is adequate for me and my business. the light pale yellow tile is soothing to the eye. the stall walls go all the way to the floor, sealing you off from your neighbors, giving you almost total privacy, and there is adequate amounts of toilet paper in the holder. i enter stall three, unbutton, bend and sit where the man's body heat was still lingering. i pull out my phone and begin to play Bejeweled as a means to take my mind off where i was, what i'd just seen in stall four, and relax my troubles right down the drain. so there's the scene. four stalls, two occupied, one inhabitable...and then the inevitable happens.

it's lunchtime, at a mall food court. guaranteed someone's gonna have to drop a load. so i'm sitting, waiting, and i see two tiny feet in velcro Spiderman sandals, belonging to some little boy, maybe 6 or 7, who has to pee but has never used the urinals before. he passes stall one, and must have felt the same exposed feeling i mentioned earlier, because he passed it by. he shuffles by stall two and three, and over to stall four. i wonder what will happen. the boy is smart enough to realize stall four is dangerous and not to be tampered with, so he turns to go back to stall one right as i hear another man come in and take his residency in stall one, leaving the boy high and dry in the stall hall. i see his feet outside my door and his feet look lost. they scuttle and turn, confused and helpless. and then they come over to me.

i see this little boy, just wanting a pot to piss in, peer into my stall thru the crack in the door. i keep playing Bejeweled and try to pretend i don't see him. try to pretend this isn't phasing me. try to pretend i'm in a happy place somewhere.

apparently he sees me, realizes i'm not imaginary and that i'm not planning on moving anytime soon, because he moves on to stall two and repeats the same process. and i'm sure the man in stall two was going thru the same mix of emotions for this little boy and his bursting bladder. but he, like i, was unwilling to relent the reign of his throne until the reign was truly over. little velcro Spiderman sandal boy went to the urinal in defeat. he has to grow up sometime.

just as i was starting to relax again, and not feeling sorry for velcro boy anymore, another pair of shoes walk by my stall. they walked slowly, determined. they almost stalk the stall. i felt threatened.

the pair of shoes pass me and turn into stall four. "what?!" i think. "no WAY is someone gonna go in there!" but they did. just then, stall one and two seem to vacate simultaneously. as if we're in an old western, and the new gunslinger in town, while drinking his drink at the bar, just mildly flirted with the mean outlaw's hooker, not knowing she was the mean outlaw's hooker, and the mean outlaw saw it happen and the patrons of the bar scatter like cockroaches in the daylight because they knew there was gonna be trouble and guns and bullets and death.

so there's two of us. me and him. stall three and stall four. and then i hear it. FLUUSHHH! it's the man in stall four. what the hell is he thinking?? is he trying to clear the bowl so HE can use it?! then...FLUUSHHH. FLUUSHHH a third time, but this one seemed a bit more desperate. i start to hear water hitting the floor. FLUUSHHH!!

splashes of water are now cascading onto the floor in stall four. i can hear it plainly. thank God the wall is there to keep me safe from the logs. i wonder, "is all of that shit hitting the floor too?" my question is soon answered when i see these little fingerling distributaries inch around the wall, heading right for my feet. mind you...i'm wearing flip flops here. i'm not protected by some fabric, rubber, canvas or socks. it's full exposure for me. as the water creeps around the wall, i see it carries with it some debris. not a lot, but enough. it floats on top of the water, like a surfboard, riding the wave to wherever it may beach. FLUUSHHH!! what is wrong with this guy?! if i'm getting hints of remnants flowing into my stall, his stall has to be flooded...and he's still in there!!

i begin to evacuate the premises. this is somewhat tricky for me. pooping is about quality time with myself. it's about allowing gravity to take control, about not forcing issues, about relaxing and opening up. the clean up process is just as crucial. it's about gentleness, kindness, thoroughness, cleanliness. i am not afraid of making the clean up process last longer than the actual elimination process. however, i have to compromise in this instance.

by now, the water around the throne is doo doo brown, my feet are on pointe, and i'm furiously wiping. i see this evil man from stall four walk past my stall and go to wash his hands. i do my best to remove all my afterglow and carefully stand up, not allowing my shorts to hit the floor in the process, keeping my feet in as dry a spot as they can find, and i zip, flush, and exit.

this man, this criminal flusher, is standing at the sink washing his hands furiously. and he's looking at me in the mirror. and i can almost see a hint of a smile on his face. like he knows what he did, he did it on purpose, and he'd do it again. how malicious! how evil! it's as if he came in with no intention of using the bathroom to drop off his waste, but instead he came deliberately to flood the Circle Centre Food Court bathroom, like some sick bloodthirsty terrorist, not caring who got messed up in the process. why does he keep looking at me?

i want to say something but i'm too embarrassed. he obviously knows what stall i was in. he obviously knows what he did. he obviously knows i know what he did. he knows where it all went when it hit the floor. i want to tell him he's an idiot for flushing a clogged toilet without the aid of a plunger, for ruining my quality time, for making me speed thru the wiping process. i want to ask him what the hell he was thinking. but i don't. i'm more of a pacifist than i let on. i like to pretend things never happened. why is this guy staring at me?! i gotta get out of this bathroom.

i'm creeped out so i leave. his eyes follow me all the way out the door. he's got the upper hand the whole time, but yet he's the one who screwed up. why does he have so much power over me?why do i feel like it's my fault? why do i feel like the dirty one? and why did he keep staring at me?

i get about thirty steps outside the restroom and it clicks into place.

he wasn't staring at me because he had the upper hand. he was staring because i didn't read the placard that says "for better hygiene, please wash your hands."

yeah. i forgot to wash. ugh. even the little velcro Spiderman sandal boy has enough sense to do that.

ah, just another moment in my life.

peace

2005-06-15T20:48:00.001-04:00

where is it? how can i find it? the Lord says it is found in Him. but i'm coming up empty. is it that i'm not looking hard enough? deep enough? long enough? my understanding of scripture is limited, but what i comprehend is that in Him is perfect peace; a sea calm as class; wind and waves...still.

so, am i not looking deep enough into Him? or is it that my comprehension is limited and immature?

maybe peace is what i'm dwelling in right now, only the form is different than what i desire. maybe it looks different than what i understand. maybe peace is not as foreign as i think, but rather its shape is what i don't recognize.
i have been taught that peace is when the cares and worries of my life are gone, i am resting, savoring the moment. i am not burdened or troubled, concerned or worried.
but perhaps that peace and the peace the Lord extends are 2 very different things. perhaps my peace is one of fairy tales told to children in Sunday school to get them to run after an unattainable goal. the peace i seek, that i chase for, can only come when i'm dead...i think.
perhaps the peace of God is the very thing i walk in every day. maybe it's me, just the way i am, burdened, busy, troubled, worried. except my hope is not set on me, on my ability, but on the Lord. that i do not look to myself to be rid of the troubles of the world, to find bliss in a bliss-free world. instead, in the midst of it all, my eye is fixed on Him. he grounds me, centers me, reminds me that He is God, no matter what. To know He is the one who is standing next to me. that He is in the midst of all this shit, and he whispers, "keep pressing on."
He says, "don't stop living. don't think it will all go away. instead, look into my eyes. see your face in mine. gaze into me and feel comfort, support, freedom, love, escape, feel me. in the midst of it all, in the chaos, in the fire, in the middle of life and all it throws at you, you will find peace. true peace, the peace that only comes from me. and it will pour around you, hold you, envelope you. that is true peace."

so, maybe i'm sitting in, surrounded by peace and i can't see it or feel it, because what i'm searching for is ultimately unattainable. maybe peace in its truest form is closer than i recognize. maybe it's in the moments where i catch a glimpse of myself in His eyes, the quick reminders, whispers, the impressions He sends my way. maybe i'm more at peace than i realize. maybe i know where it is. maybe i've found it. maybe...just maybe...it's been here all along, waiting to be noticed.

my jumblies

2005-06-13T23:43:00.000-04:00

i just ate a little over half a block of colby/jack cheese. not sure why.

i'm a bit jumbled today. lots of things going on currently; it's hard to put it all down into words because the things going on are physical, mental, emotional and spiritual. and the line between them is growing increasingly dim. wait...can something grow dim? 'grow' implies growth (obviously) and 'dim' implies dark. can something grow dark? maybe...if darkness can grow. can it? yeah, i guess it can.

what was i saying?

right, the line between things is growing dim. that is to say, the separation between them is growing dim. things are starting to cross over into each other. i'm affected on all levels. and these are the times i dread. i get no respite whatsoever. not only are the lines blurring for me, but for those going thru this with me as well.

we're on the road right now. 3 weeks. a lot will take place these 3 weeks. it will be the shortest and fastest weeks of our lives, and i have NO clue what the future looks like.

matt is trying to get his computer to 'voice recognize' - and from someone clueless as to what he's doing...it's incredibly comical. he's speaking "stuck, stuck, stuck, stuck, stuck" over and over (how ironic) to get it to recognize his voice. "please read the text in a natural and even tone," i hear coming from the front of the bus. "if you get stuck on a word the system will not accept, press 'skip a word' to proceed with training." he's speaking all this into a mic, and sounding quite funny. he's excited his computer will recognize his voice. i find it slightly eerie.

the past week has felt like an eternity. we've experienced some tragedy, some love, some laughter, some connection, some anger, some expectancy, some moments with the Lord, some moments in the desert.

i was blessed beyond words with events of this past week. a chance to sit and talk and just be. i also realized too late that life isn't stopping just because my life seems to halt. friends leave for vacation, and i feel foolish for not remembering when they were leaving, so i miss saying good-bye and feel like an idiot.

hehe- i'm watching laura shove her hand up a puppet's ass and talk to eden. it makes me smile. especially when her hand/mouth movement isn't matching up with her words. kinda awkward and warped, like a muppet on crack. but eden doesn't care one bit. she's giggling and rolling around like she doesn't have a worry in the world. oh, to be young again. but not 19 months. that's too young. oh- sidenote, eden pooped on the floor this morning. she had just got out of the tub, ran around a bit, squatted down to play with a toy, shat a log, then moved herself and the toy across the room. i told laura, "at least she didn't try to eat it." crazy kid.

i am blessed to be loved by so many people. and i think this is what i need to focus on in the coming weeks. i have some amazing folks in my life. those i hurt for, hurt with, those i dream about, cry for. my circle of friends is amazing, and i realize i take them for granted. it's not until i get to (re)connect with them that i discover how deeply i need them all. the good and the bad of traveling allows me a chance to be with people whom i love. unfortunately i can't meet with all of them at the same time. of course, if i did, my head would probably explode. or maybe my heart.

i look over at my wife, and she has tears in her eyes. they've been there for about 2 weeks now-- not because of anything i've done (thank God) but because of life and all it's handing us right now. very overwhelming. we make eye contact, and my eyes go moist as well. i love her so much and don't like to see her hurt. i am so glad we are going thru all this together, because i don't think i could do it alone. i was speaking with a friend of mine and said that marriage would be easy as pie if no other people were involved. just you and the one you love. i miss her and long for the day when, for a moment or 4, it's just the two of us, no other cares in the world.

"if you happen to mispronounce a word that the system recognizes, do not worry about correcting it." "speech recognition is an exciting technology that promises to change the way we interact with computers in the future. this technology has been under development for more than three decades at university, corporate, and government research labs." "papayas are pleasant." go matt.

the cheese is starting to retaliate. curse you, kraft!

i'm a bit jumbled today. can you tell?

goodbye.

2005-06-08T00:47:00.000-04:00

today sucked.

we woke up late this morning, 8.54am, kat with her list, i with mine, a busy day planned for each of us. having only one car between us currently, plus it being a stick which she doesn't regularly drive, she'd asked me the night before to take her to a doctor's appointment at 9.30 the following day. so, that morning i wake up and immediately formulate a strategy for the day. my mental plan was to drop her off at the doctor, go to our office, only 10 min away from where i thought the appointment was going to be, get some stuff done, go back and pick her up, then both of us go back to the office to finish the work. that was my plan.

until i learned the truth.

her appointment was at a different doctor's office, 25 minutes away from our office, which allowed me zero time to get done what i needed to do. i learned this 5 minutes before having to be out the door (9.02 am) to be on time for said appointment. well, the time calculations were for the office i'd thought we were going to. the actual location was about 15 miles further away, meaning we'd have needed to leave earlir than it was. i, still wearing my sleeping clothes, which are really just the clothes i wore the day before because i'm too lazy to change, am sitting on the couch, fuming because she told me the wrong place. that screwed up my plan. plus...she was upstairs brushing her hair, primping, putting on her face; not at all concerned about time, or plans, or my needs. how dare she!

she bounds downstairs, looks at me sitting on the couch waiting for her to finish up and get the lead out of her arse, and says, "why didn't you make coffee?"

i grit my teeth.

we get in the car, each of us ticked at the other, me just having rolled out of bed and not fully awake yet, her dreading another doctor visit, and we get onto the expressway. 5 miles from our exit, we hit a traffic jam. i think i'm smart, so i devise an alternate route, a back roads route, that will get us to our destination, or at least keep us from sitting still in a damn jam. the time is 9.20 am.

every exit i had thought of as an 'alternate route' was closed due to construction. fucking construction season in michigan! it's like a plague; it's everywhere. we end up going 5 miles out of our way, putting the time at 9.29 am. kat is now pissed about being late, i'm pissed about the traffic jam (ultimate pet peeve) and we're both a bit pissed at each other. she gets more frustrated and says, "i'm just gonna reschedule!" and i'm thinking, "like hell you are!! you dragged me out of bed to take you, so you damn well better go!" i look at the gas gauge, and i see the light blinking. it's 9.32 am.

she calls to reschedule, i get pissed looking for gas. we are both at our boiling point. it's 9.34 am. i am convinced God hates me.

we call our friends to ask if they have an extra power adapter for kat's computer. it started shorting out last night, and the laptop survives only 9 minutes on its own. we need an adapter. they have one, and will leave it outside under their porch. they have a doctor's appointment to get an ultrasound (2 months pregnant) and are running late. we stop by their house, pick up the adapter, return home. 10.47 am.

then the phone rang, and time stood still.

our firends were calling. their doctor said she couldn't find the heartbeat. they were going to the hospital at 1.00 pm for more tests. we drive over there as fast as was legal. on the way there, our morning seemed to be forgotten. our rush, hurry, anger, frustration...it all went away, or rather, it popped.

somehow the bitterness i had over my plans being screwed up by my wife's lack of communication over which doctor's office we were headed to, seemed to dissipate. it became insignificant. the traffic jam left my mind. the fact i had to pay $2.29 for gas, it meant nothing now. trivial.

after arriving at their house and crying together, kat went with them to the hospital for more tests and confirmation, while i drove to the office to finish working on stuff i had to get done. the whole time i worked alone, my mind was buzzing with questions, doubts, obscenities, concern, anger, rage, sorrow, pain, remorse...it all blended around, swirrled inside my head. and the more i thought, the more it grew dark. the more it grew bleak. by the end of my tasks, i was ready to walk out on God. he wasn't holding up his end of the bargain here. and i wasn't gonna take it. it wasn't right, or fair, or even acceptable. didn't he care? where was he for them? for us? for that baby?

i called my wife while they were all at the hospital. i could hear the sorrow and tears in her voice. so sad. it hurts when someone you love hurts. and i love these people. they are family. and they hurt. so i hurt too.

the rest of the day was no longer for our use, no longer about us. it was for our friends. i stopped at the store, got some flowers and some ice cream, and met them at their home. tears were shed, hugs hugged, phone calls made, small talk, chit-chat, and silence. not uncomfortable silence. just silence.

it was as if there were no more tears to shed. at least, not tonight. it was no longer just about the pain and heartbreak they, and we, were going thru. it was now about being together when we need each other the most.

we all decided tonight to write a book on what NOT to say during times of pain and sorrow. i think the last chapter should be on what TO say...and the pages will be blank.

sometimes it's not a comforting word people need to hear. sometimes they just need you to be. be there. be present. be, and love, and hold, and be.

sometimes there is great peace in the silence.
sometimes even God shows up.

love you molly. good bye.

so much, yet so little

2005-05-31T15:32:00.000-04:00

it's been a bit since i last blogged. not sure why. maybe too much going on? or not enough? either way, i have a slot of time today, so here goes.

i pooped my pants last week.

yeah...for real. i was laying on the couch after having this amazing dump. it was one of those dumps that only attack when you're driving in the car, 15 miles away from the safety of your own restroom. i was headed back from the greater ann arbor area when the pain struck. mid-abdomen, hot poker, every nerve being ripped in half. my colon was pissed off at me and tired of being so full of shit. so it wanted to unleash its fury upon me. but i held in there like a trooper. my o-ring clenched tight, impenetrable.
so i'm speeding around corners, legs extended as straight as they would go and still allow me room to maneuver the clutch, gas and brake. you ever do that? you get the 'feeling' and your body instinctively goes rigid? like you're praying rigor mortis sets in immediately to petrify whatever it is trying to leak out of you. so my body is stiff and straight, trying to alleviate the intense pressure emanating from deep within. i'm swearing like i battle with Tourette's, which of course is a losing battle since swearing comes so natural to me.
i buzz thru our neighborhood at about 20 miles an hour, over speed bumps that launch me off asphalt, allowing my large intestines to feel like they're defying gravity. they, of course, are disappointed when we touch back down and the weightless dream is over. in fact, it's like waking up from a night terror; beads of sweat, heart racing, intense ill feelings, the need to scream, all of it washes over me.
i grind the gears trying to get this damn standard parked, emergency break ripped into place, hands claw to get out of the car, feet tripping with anticipation, fingers fumbling with keys, sweaty palm gripping the door knob, bursting into the house, mind reeling from the pressure, both emotional and physical, thumbs maneuvering the denim to just above the knees, quick turn, bend, unclench ...ahhhh!

a photo finish.

so, my abdomen is pulsating like a spider giving birth, heaving, pushing, expanding, contracting. all in all, quite satisfying if i may say. i shall now fast forward a few minutes, maybe 20.

i recline on the couch, wiped out, sipping a diet soda, watching tv and feeling quite content. the evils have left the building, and my body was at peace again. i had some gas pains, a little gurgle, the afterbirth as it were.

i flip the channel, sip a sip, and proceed to push. and within a heartbeat, i realized my gas was in fact not gas, but more of a liquid nature. and before i could reverse my action, i had unloaded my afterbirth into my jeans. yeah. you read right.

instantly i began laughing. what else can you do at that point?

it was wet, creamy, warm, and stinky. what the hell?? i haven't shat myself since i was about 6 or younger. and this wasn't one of those 'explosive diarrhea' moments. it was literally what i thought was a fart building up inside. totally preventable. and yet i downloaded into denim. how sexy.

i carefully walked upstairs and just got into the shower, stripped down, turned on the water, and laughed.

if you can't laugh at shit dribbling down your leg, what can you laugh at?

enjoy!

moment by moment

2005-05-21T16:37:00.000-04:00

it's odd how my life can seem so hectic, chaotic, mind and will cannot keep up. today is not one of those days.

i've been sitting on the couch, sipping fresh yukon roast, watching a digital slideshow of my friend's trip to england for the past 2.5 hrs. the sun is slowly slipping across the powder blue sky and i can see the shadows cast by our blinds inch across the carpet that desperately needs to be vacuumed. a breeze wafts thru the open front door, and ajax is asleep on the top step.

times like this make me want to rip my hair out.

i want to go, do, see, experience. i want to be somewhere, doing something. i want to be in las vegas, or new york, or atlanta, or anywhere. i want to walk around. i want sensory overload. i don't want to be sitting on my ass right now. i want to be approached by homeless people ranting about the jews and john denver.

and yet.

and yet. i can and must learn to sit.

sometimes i think i sit too much. my ass has fused to the fibers of the couch at times.
but maybe when the urge is so strong to get up and go, it's not what i'm supposed to be doing. maybe my job is to sit, to rest, to reflect, look deeper into this force, this drive to move, and discover what it's trying to tell me.

so, for now i will sit. and think. maybe read a bit. but later, i will explore. after i hear my silence.

what next?

2005-05-20T12:14:00.000-04:00

so- now i've got a problem.

how to top a story about beating off at the hospital?

THE MUSIC BATON, OF COURSE:

Total volume of music files on my computer: 6.75 GB.

The last CD I bought was:
"Medulla" by Bjork

Song playing right now:
"Woo Hoo" by 5.6.7.8's

Five songs I listen(ed) to a lot (recently):
1)"To Be Alone With You" Sufjan Stevens - Seven Swans
2)"Nightswimming" R.E.M. - Best of...
3)"So Far I Have Not Found The Science" Soul Coughing - El Oso
4)"Maybe It's Faith" Dividing the Plunder (ellery) - The Ordinary
5) entire album of Scott Loudon - untitled

Five people to whom I'm passing the baton:
well, i don't believe in forwards. so i am not passing. i'm dropping.

that's my entry.

by the way, i killed a raccoon last night with my car. i felt like a hero. then i almost threw up.

w00t!

tossing off

2005-05-10T17:05:00.000-04:00

yeah, i said it. tossing off. spanking the monkey. beating the meat.

that's how i got to start my day. in a hospital bathroom. not quite as exciting as your typical venture into self-pleasure. in fact, it was awful. not only could i use no lube, but i had old people pounding on the door, wanting to relieve their bowels or other such nonsense. didn't they know i was in the throes of carnal bliss?

today was my day to drop off a 'sample' of my semen (by sample i mean the whole wad) for analysis. yeah- i'm gonna bare all with this entry. see, my count's low. not sure whether or not to be embarrased by that. i'm choosing not. it happens. and it sucks butt. as most of you know, we're trying to conceive, and after 4 yrs, still nada. kat's been to the doc, and all her plumbing is without leaks or clogs. so that leaves the ball in my court, so to speak.

about 7 or 8 months ago i had my first go at leaving a sample. this was quite...um...embarrassing. first of all, you have to know, they only take samples from 7.30 am (who the heck's gonna smack the pole at THAT hour?) to 11 am. on top of that, you must deliver your specimen within an hour of collection. the hospital is about 20 miles away, when traffic is good.

the first time i depositied, i chose to collect at home. in the bathroom. and yes, alone. and since i had to get there quick, i didn't even get time for a post coitus smoke. i jumped right in the car and sped away; my precious boys sitting beside me in the passenger seat, captured in a jar, concealed in a brown paper bag.

upon arrival, i felt rushed, fearing my seed was spoiling as i stood in line waiting to deliver my goods. i was pretty clueless as to what to do, what to say, where to go, what line to stand in. can't really just shout, "look out! step aside! hot man juice comin' thru!" and wouldn't you know it, every worker i had to talk to was female. not only female, but about 45 years old, probably someone's mother, and slightly hard of hearing so i had to say extra loud, "i'm here to drop off my sperm sample!"

this second time i opted to give of my gonads in the sanitary hospital restroom next to radiology. i had gone up to the receptionist, this time a younger woman (of course... another woman - don't men ever work the reception desk? somehow i'd feel much more comfortable, and less perverted, having a guy know what i'll be doing in the bathroom for the next 15 minutes) greeted me and offered me a container, to which i replied, "i brought my own," holding up my brown paper bag. "i just need someplace to deposit in privacy."

she directed me to the unisex restroom. i entered, turned the lock, and prayed to God it worked. nothing worse than getting caught with your pecker out of your pants in a hospital. try to explain THAT to the poor elderly woman who just wanted to empty her colostomy bag. well hey, at least she's in the right place when the image of me, pud in hand, sends her ticker into arrest.

after completion of the task at hand *ahem* i casually emerge, trying to be nonchalant and suave, hiding my bag full of goodies down by my side. ever notice that when you're trying to make something inconspicuous, like a paper bag containing a cup of semen, it makes more noise than a 727 coming in for landing, missing the runway, and exploding in a fireball of wreckage. i couldn't help but feel the weight of every eye from every female in the waiting room press into me as i step out of this bathroom. their gaze goes from the door opening, to my face, then down to my hand and the rustling paper present it holds. i can feel their disgust leap upon me, as if they could see thru the bathroom door like Superman and knew exactly how many whacks it took to get to the center of the tootsie pop.

so there i stand, at the receptionists desk again, waiting to hand off the swimmers (well, hopefully they're swimming- that remains to be determined) and i sheepishly hand my bag over the counter, trying my best to make light of this awkward situation. funny, but she didn't see it as amusing as i did. she politely asks if i have my name on it, and then proceeds to reach into the bag to retrieve the cause of the awkwardness, and i'm thinking, "dear God, don't pull it out HERE!" i remember that it was labeled and almost too urgently reply "yesyes!"

i wave good-bye to my spunk and quickly walk out the revolving door to my car. time to celebrate my deposit and wash down my slight humiliation with a trip to starbucks.

so, that was the start of my day. hope you enjoyed.

but not too much. you perv.

tim's coffee

2005-05-05T08:52:00.000-04:00

i'm getting the car detailed today. it's going back to its rightful owners this afternoon. i'd clean it myself, but i don't feel like doing it. so i dropped the car off half a Full House ago and walked over to Tim Hortons for a warm place to sit, wait, and waste time.

i honestly hate the coffee here at tim's. it tastes like warm dirt flavored with dishwater. i've found that at every tim hortons i've been in. at least they're consistent. as i walked in the door, the scent of fresh baked pastries filled my nostrils and made me begin cursing the gods of gluten. i miss bagels. i miss donuts even more.

so i get a small cup of hot dirt and a small iced cappuccino (surprisingly tasty- must be all the sugar. put enough sugar in anything, and it will taste good) and have a seat in a somewhat uncomfortable booth near the counter. i try to read, but can't. too many distractions. who'd ever have thought a 63-year-old man ordering a cup of coffee and apple fritter would grab my attention and keep me from burying myself in a book, the only friend i'll have for the next 4 hours while i wait for this car to be cleaned.

the word 'comfort' comes to mind. it's not really what i feel, but it's where my thought landed. that word is too warm, but it will have to do. for the past 10 minutes, i've watched as men and women, all over the age of 55, have shuffled in and been greeted with a smile by our friendly cashier, Ray; a middle aged balding man with a salt and pepper mustache, button nose, gold chain, and a warm smile. the beauty is that they all know Ray, and Ray knows them. He's got their coffee poured by the time they get up to the counter- just the right amount of cream, just the right amount of sugar, just the right amount of Splenda for the diabetic. He's got their bagel in the toaster, the cream cheese ready to spread. and it's not that he's THAT gifted, but it's just these people are regulars. they are daily visitors. they ask him how his vacation to vegas was. he smiles and says, "well, you still see me here. hehe, i guess not good enough," and they laugh as if they were friends. he says he owes them one more penny from the drawer, and they say, "keep it...for your next vegas trip. maybe it will bring you better luck."

there are about 7 people sitting around me, sipping coffee, eating a boston cream, wearing black dress socks with white tennis shoes and their favorite US Veterans baseball cap. some are talking to each other, about the best place to mall walk in the mornings. some are gazing out the window, stirring their half empty cup of joe. some are bickering with their spouse over whether or not they took their medication. all of them look like they're at peace. and i can't help but think Ray has something to do with that.

it's as if they've come home. a welcoming place to sit and talk, or not. a place to connect again, or just gaze out the window at the world as it passes. a reason to get out of bed in the mornings. i am by far the youngest person in here and i can't help but wonder: where's my home? where's my place?

i think what i'm feeling is not comfort but stability...or maybe uniformity. some things never change...like Ray. Like the mud in my cup. Like the smell of fresh baked donuts in the morning. Like the longing to have a place to come sit, stir, sip, and be.

fuck.
i just spilled my coffee.

peep into my psyche

2005-04-30T16:29:00.000-04:00

so, i've always had issues, but last night as i lay, trying to sleep, i got a glimpse into one of those 'shaping' moments in my life. i have always had this need, compulsion, this desire, this impulse to always have to know the name of the artist singing a song. if i was listening to the radio and i didn't know the name of the artist, i'd purposefully sit and wait for them to announce the artist, then try and commit it to memory. i am almost lustful to know the names of artists and their songs. here's why.

when i was in the last year of my junior high career, the advanced english class i was accepted into used unconventional test material for our weekly quizzes. these quizzes, administered faithfully on fridays, consisted of current events, random bits of information, useless facts, and anything that was said or referenced throughout the week. it was all fair game to be used as a quiz question. i recall one such quiz and in particular, one such question that began my journey into mild obsessive-compulsiveness.

our question was an aural one:
who sang this song? multiple choice: a) boston, b) kansas, c) asia, d) toto.

i picked b. i was wrong. i was the only one who was wrong. i felt incredibly humiliated. that day, i made a vow to never not know a song's artist.

today, i can't help but name the artist in my head when someone starts to hum a little ditty. "our house, in the middle of our street"...madness; "you can dance if you want to, you can leave your cares behind"...men without hats;"come on eileen, oh i swear at this moment you mean everything"...dexy's midnight runners; "could you take my picture, cuz i won't remember, yeah"... filter; "if i gave it all, if i traded it all away for one thing, just for one thing,"...finger 11.

i do have a problem when it comes to rap and r&b, as well as current radio pop favorites. they tend to all sound the same. that makes me sad, and somewhat unnerved. i can't tell beyonce' from lil' kim, or usher from 50 cent. i can't tell ashley from jessica from avril from mandy.

and maybe that's ok. maybe it's time i learn that retaining useless knowledge won't take away past humiliation. it won't make up for not knowing something back in 8th grade. that time in my life is over and done with. i'm not that nerdy kid who tried so hard to get picked for the science olympiad team that i memorized the periodic table in hopes i'd be asked onto the team. i never was, by the way. i guess some things are not meant to be.

like knowing the difference between lindsay lohan and hillary duff.

and honestly...is there a difference?

hmmm- what to say, what to say....

2005-04-21T01:53:00.000-04:00

um i got nuthin.

ever have one of those moments in life where you have lots to say, and yet nothing seems to come?

i think that's been me the last few weeks. i have much on my mind (most all of it good) and yet it seems to all be swirling around in my cranium with no thought of escaping. i guess it's making a cozy nest somewhere in my hippocampus. i'm sure it will make friends with the other useless bits of information stored up there.

tonight i talked with johanna about waves. sound and light waves. and how i wish i had a slinky to help explain the physics of it. i am contemplating adding more soy into my diet, and possibly into my routine of facial care. i am wondering if God considers it a sin to download music i get from the library- i mean, it's free to take out, as much as i want, as often as i want, so why not download it to itunes, then return it to the library so others can share in the goodness of rufus wainwright or pete yorn. we had lots of travel time the past 2 days, and i'm realizing that i'm a very prejudiced person. i'm prejudiced against stupid and ignorant people. especially truckers. and especially when they make themselves look idiotic by talking on the cb, flapping their yaps, and saying nothing but shit. i wonder why we tend to live in fear so often. why do i laugh so hard at some commercials, while others make me want to hurt small animals?

so, family guy is on now- the land of Petoria. i haven't ever seen this one, so i must watch. and also instruct johanna on the beauty of Adult Swim. ATHF on next. ah, the joy of learning...is there nothing sweeter?

GO TEAM VENTURE!!

i heart huckabees

2005-04-15T00:47:00.000-04:00

yes...yes i do.

not sure there is anything else to say.

except...

rent it.

what in ronald's name?!

2005-04-11T23:42:00.000-04:00

does this guy freak anyone else out?

seriously...what are they thinking over there in burgerland? i thought having hootie sing about rivers of ranch dressing flowing thru fields where fries grow like weeds, and brooke burke swinging away with a giant whopper in her palm was way way frightening. but this guy....*shudder*

i feel icky.

so...this is what fridays are like

2005-04-08T20:49:00.000-04:00

not on the road. not at work. bored out of my mind.

funny how that happens.

so i sit here, randomly surfing channels as well as websites. wanting to read, but too apathetic to pick up a book. want to drink coffee but too lazy to grind the beans. reminding myself to keep the laptop off my nuts- i hear it decreases sperm count. heat, or radiation or something.

joan of arcadia. not sure what to think.

so i'm gonna try to quit smoking. the problem is that i just really really like it. i like drawing toxic fumes into my lungs, feeling them scratch my insides. i like the smell on my fingers after i smoke- mildly like peanut butter. i like holding my breath, waiting for the buzz. i like the 'smoke break' that only smokers get. i like the click-flash of the lighter as it blazes up, inches in front of my eyes, giving me momentary blindness against the flame. the glow of the 'rette, amber orange, reflected in the windshield. i really like it.

but i'll try to quit.

or at least cut down a lot.

and now it's 9.02 on a friday night, and i await the return of my household...hopefully they'll have a movie with them. cuz this is just lame.

oh and on a final note...watch peter gabriel's 'growing up' tour dvd. he's truly a musical genius. i wept at his brilliance. i hope he's in heaven someday.

wow- that was fast

2005-04-05T15:38:00.000-04:00

so, it's been about a week since my last night at eve, and a week .5 since the photo shoot. needless to say i've been a bit busy.

the last night at eve was great. made some bank, spent it all frivolously on food and material posessions. went out drinking (celebrating) after work, had some lovely shots, a few things i don't recall ordering, and played pool till the lights in the bar came on. i even got eve to come out with us. and she bought me a shot of tequila. as she left the bar, i think i saw a tear trickle down her cold, hard cheek.

the following days after that were a blur. we went right on the road (which i'm still on) and spent our daylight savings hour in illinois.

wish i had more to report right now, but i currently am tapped out, and need to pee like a mofo.

oh, and i'd like to mention, i'm chillin' and illin' in the nati with some dear friends. just for a day. it's nice here.

thanks all who chimed in via the last post. tomi, you use vodka in place of the cold water, blaine, thanks for the shout out- hope to connect sometime and chat a bit. sonya and paul, i got nothin to post to y'all, cuz i'm sitting on your futon as i type this, so anything i'd type would take longer than me just saying it to you right now.

peace to my niggaz!

two weeks' notice and a tale of cold nipples

2005-03-22T13:38:00.000-05:00

yeah- it's done. i put in my notice sunday night. my final day at eve will be the 30th of this month.

here's some good news though. i talked with eve about it, and she said she'd like to have me be an 'on call' kind of person. that is, when i'm in town and available to work, i'd be welcome back. hazaah! that's actually a nice thing. the money is too good to totally walk away from, as are the people. but the shit we all gotta put up with is way too much to stick around for on a daily basis. plus, my schedule is just gonna get crazy in the next few months.

now, on to my nipples.

no really...get on to my nipples!
you, right now, get on 'em!!

you wuss.

so yesterday we had a photo shoot with michael wilson (www.michaelwilsonphotographer.com). i must say this man is unbelievably talented, amazing, cool, quirky, and just what you'd want in a photographer. he uses all old equipment (no digital photos for this man- he's a purist) and develops all his own film. i think he rolls his own film too.
we started off meeting at 10, then driving to an arboretum to check out the scene. they had an amazing conservatory which i consider one of the top 5 places to take a date in the middle of winter. a balmy moist 85 degrees inside, and some beautiful plant life. while this was a cool location, it was too verdant and busy. monday was 'free day' so every stay-at-home mom in ann arbor (which amounts to about 27- what woman doesn't want to have it all?) brought her children in to play in the plants. (funny thing here, i'm guessing on a monday, you can yell, "zoe, come here" and about 7 different children, all under the age of 6 will run up to you- each one wearing a 'custom made' overpriced winter hat with spikes and tassles sticking out the top, making the kid look like a midget court jester. ann arborites are so trendy and creative).

we left that location and headed off to downtown ann arbor. in kerrytown, right next to eve the restaurant, there is a shopping area, and in that shopping area there is a store called Vintage2Vogue. very cute store with lots of trendy furniture and overpriced knickknacks and bric-a-brac. very fun and creative. i had asked the day prior if they allowed photo shoots in there (they did) and when we called earlier in the day they said to come on in. when we got there, the manager offered us freedom in the store, as well as in the new location they're finishing up remodeling across the building. we took a jog over to the construction site...and michael wilson started to salivate.

all exposed brick for walls, wide open flat room extending over a full block- windows around the entire room. white pine polished floors, sleek lines from shelving, both set up against the wall and free standing, all natural wood. there was even a 'vibe' there. we spent a good 3 hours in that space. michael kept the shutter working and we started to get more comfortable with him (which wasn't very difficult at all). we exhausted all the light we could, used as much of the room as possible, and decided to try some outdoor shots.

by this time in the day, it was approximately 2.30pm. the sun had been behind clouds all day (which wasn't bad inside- gave a nice filtered soft light effect) but when you stepped outside, felt the lack of light combined with the brisk post-winter gusts of arctic air, you started praying to God for the fires of hell to appear in front of you- just so you could get warm.

we walked around outside a bit, stopped at several spots where michael saw some great wall or texture or color. there, we'd disrobe our coats and pose for the pretty pictures. needless to say, i was unwise in just wearing my tee shirt for the 'casual' shots. yeah- that's right- just a tee shirt. our journey took us all throughout the greater downtown ann arbor scene (complete with Greyhound bus station and parking garage). we were on foot around town for about 3 hours, bringing us back to the warmth of indoors at about 5.30 or 6 pm. at this time, michael had to get back home, and i needed heat. we said good bye to our new friend and headed for Starbucks. kelly was working and ended up giving us too much food and drink for too little money. while we sat and talked about the day, i fell asleep on the sofa.

so- that's been the past 2 days. the 2 before that included working at eve and a show in Livonia (local- how nice) and some awesome friends who came over for the night on saturday. it's nights like that one i wish i had a twin of me so i could sleep while i enjoyed the company of good people. time goes by too fast when you're with those you love, and time never ends when you are around those you loathe. thanks for the killer hats guys! kat's got her's on now.

now, i must shower. for i stink. not a lot- but just enough to call it stink.

when we get some proofs back from michael, i'll try and post some. look for my erect titties in the outdoor shots-you can cut fuckin granite with 'em!

anything more precious?

2005-03-18T00:34:00.000-05:00

yeah- he's cute. i mean, eden's ok ...but did you see that bunny?!

believing in God vs. believing God

2005-03-14T12:49:00.000-05:00

so, for focus time today, Laura had a killer one. i'm gonna try and recap it because i think it would do us all good. plus, i want to get it down somewhere so i can look back on it and remind myself.

she read from Mark 9 about the man whose son was possessed by an evil spirit. you know the story. the man asks jesus for help- "but if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us."
"'If you can'?" said jesus. "everything is possible for him who believes." Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"

here's the thing. this man believed IN God, but had a hard time BELIEVING God. it's easy to say, "yeah, God's real, he's alive, he's good, the bible's his word." but it's much more difficult to say, "i trust God at his word. his promises are for me."
because of this difficult time believing God, we tend to be a bit more timid in our prayer life; we shy away from the big risky prayers. we're fearful that either God will look foolish by not being able to fulfill our prayer requests or that we'll look foolish for even asking for such a thing.

here's an example. i want an exterra real bad. i mean, it's almost painful. is it a frivilous request? possibly. truth is, we're getting close to having 2 vehicles that are more dangerous than safe, and we've never really had a nice car. don't get me wrong, we're thankful for what we have, and it gets us by, but there's always that part of us that wants more than to 'just get by'.

here's the kicker- do i believe God will get it for me? see, i believe God can but will he? his word says he loves us, sees us as his children, cares for us. i've been taught all my life not to ask for the desires of my heart. why? i don't know. maybe because it is selfish? maybe because it's not important enough to ask of him? either way, i don't ask. fear of looking foolish, fear of being told no, fear of feeling like a faith-prayer failure, fear of God not being able to do it.

so my prayers are risk-free. ask for what you know he'll do. nothing too personal, nothing too big or important. just stick with the easy stuff, nothing too challenging- for me or for God.

but what kind of faith is that? faith based on works isn't faith at all. faith based on what i've seen in the past is no faith at all. faith without risk is no faith at all. the man in mark 9 had a basic faith- one that says God is real (otherwise he probably wouldn't have been asking Jesus for help) but not very powerful (hence his "if you can do anything" statement). how often do i fall into that trap, of knowing that God is real, in my life, a part of me, but not trusting Him.

i don't want to live that way any longer. i want a risk filled life! i want one that is a roller coaster. i want one that has to rely on God completely. there are many parts of my life that i try to control. i guess it is in those moments of complete helplessness (like the man whose son was possessed) that our faith is not only stretched, but forced to do something - if it's not growing, it's dying.

oh lord, help me overcome my unbelief. and give me an exterra. please.

is there anything more pathetic than the chicks on Elimidate?

2005-03-10T02:35:00.000-05:00

i'm serious! they're all catty and evil! keep making fun of each other! almost too stupid to watch. almost...

so, i've decided my time at eve will be coming to an end soon. i'm planning on turning in my 2 weeks' notice on or around april 1. today's meeting was utter bull shit. no other words for it. get this: for quite a while, from what i can tell, the lock on the Eurocave (that which houses our expensive wine) in the basement of the building where we store it, has been tampered with. the screws had been taken out, leaving the lock intact, but opening up the doors for all the world to enjoy. some expensive bottles of wine in there, too. we're talking excess of $400. so, it seems anyone with a phillips head screwdriver can get in. eve, of course, is still convinced it's one of us, the few remaining. she's convinced it's someone in the restaurant because money is still missing. i'd have to attribute that to poor book keeping. no surprise there. but ...eve's always right apparently.

so, as we get accused over and over of being thiefs, eve tells us that she needs to be able to trust us. fair enough- but trust goes 2 ways. and unfortunately, none of us trust her because she keeps threatening to fire us at any given moment. hard to trust an unstable boss like that. in fact, she fired someone today- because they couldn't come to the staff meeting. he had even called earlier to say he couldn't due to an emergency of some sort at his other job that he had to fix. this guy is one of the best workers we have. bends over backwards to help out, busts ass to make things go smooth. but apparently he's expendable. odd thing is another guy didn't show up either, but nothing will come of that. go figure.

so, i've had enough of it. the money is great, but it's not worth it anymore. my time will end soon. and now, it's time for bed.

thanks for the support. i'll keep you posted, still.

i can't think of a title

2005-03-08T14:54:00.000-05:00

so, it's almost 3 pm and i'm about to head off to work again. i get sick of blogging about work. but it seems like that's all that's going on in my life currently (i know this is untrue- but it feels that way). i think it's because i'm a man of the immediate. if you had asked me what was happening this weekend, i'd be able to jot down about a thousand different things, both good and bad. but now, the only thing on my mind is working in half an hr.

it's getting old. and to be honest, i'm not sure how much longer i'll have a job. i am half expecting to go into work today and discover that i've been scheduled for a weekend shift (which i've requested off for because we're in TN this weekend) and that will be the end of things. a part of me is praying to God for that to happen, the other part of me is praying it won't.

on a slightly brighter note, and not really dealing with the immediate, we (otb) are gonna get paid at the end of this month. the drought seems to be over - we hope. there are many exciting things on the horizon. and some not so exciting things. much prayer is needed for us, so i am sending out flares into the night sky to ask for coverage. too much to go into, but suffice it to say the Lord isn't really making his direction for us clear. we're sorta in limbo. many different levels of confusion abound for us. we know this year has exciting opportunities in it, and we believe the Lord will be made known thru us. we also have so much uncertainty about what/how/when/if, that our minds have begun to play many tricks on our faith. i have no clue how long the Lord plans on keeping us (otb) around- because it's feeling like the end is near, but am also sure he's not done with us yet. these 2 ideas are at war currently. i spent about 3 hrs of our drive home this weekend trying to figure out what i'd do if otb folded. and i came up with nothing. i can't see myself doing anything else other than this (i NEVER thought i'd say that!). it's so so difficult to see into the future, to catch a glimpse of how the fuck God is going to pull everything together.

i guess this is just another exercise in faith.

fall back

more later.

weekend and industry

2005-03-02T04:32:00.000-05:00

so, we had a trip down to SC. HHI SC to be exact. not a fan of that place. 'twas ok though. got some feedback from kids and they loved it. hard to believe that one of our oldest skits got a response from some kids. got an email about it today; the girl left the room crying and got rebaptized that night. kinda fancy, eh?

i did a radio interview this morning. that was interesting and fun. apparently some christian church in kansas has a radio show that's broadcast on am and fm across the midwest. funny, i ain't never heard of 'em. last week they contacted me and asked for an interview. i said sure, and now i'm famous.

now for the continuing saga of: Eve the Restaurant. i found out last night that travis was fired. this will mean diddly piss you most of you, but suffice it to say, he was the closest thing to a manager that we had. amazing server, bartender, administrator, wine steward, and all around great guy. he was fired because he did some stuff with the Micros system (point of sale system) to get ready for Industry Night- every tuesday evening from 11pm to 2am we have drink specials and it's marketed towards people in the food industry. apparently eve didn't like what travis did. apparently he doesn't have clearance to do anything on the micros anymore because there's a 'thief' still among us and we're all suspect.

so, this is pretty pissy news. industry night was his deal- he thought of it, planned it, made advertisements for it, and basically ran it. he was scheduled to be the bartender this evening. but, since he got fired... guess who had to do it? that's right- 'lil ol' me. so, after finishing my server shift, i switched superhero outfits and became bartenderman. it went ok. not great. not even good. but ok. i still can't see how people can drink manhattans or gin martinis. blech! but i had a forgiving clientel and i comped a lot of screwed up drinks. even made a fuzzy navel with grapefruit instead of orange juice. whoops!

it was fun though, because someone brought in a karaoke machine (we had a live dj last week) and most of the people who were there were either employees (off the clock) or friends of employees. much drunken singing was partaken by all. save me, of course. i actually drank nothing. too busy making makers mark manhattans.

i'm sure i have more to write about this. suffice it to say, i'm tired. but i made some bank this evening. oh - and the really fun thing is that we got travis to come in for industry night. eve was there too. the tension was felt all over the place- was practically dripping down the brick walls! we made travis feel loved though, in spite of icy daggers he got thrown at him via eve's evil eye.

ok, no mas. time to sleep and be at work again in 9 hrs. adios.