Bits for Sunday, March 30, 2008

I took a look at the content of my posts this week and my only topics were American Idol and the quality of the ply of toilet paper at my work. Needless to say, I don’t think I have much of anything deep or meaningful running through my brain right now. I could, however, use a laugh, so I dug into the annals of both my life and writing and found this, which I thought you might find humorous. I know this is a bit longer than I normally write to you…but hopefully you’ll find it worth the extra time…and certainly of more entertainment value than toilet paper. I wrote this my senior year of college and it was requested by my peers to be the paper I read at the senior reading. I’m not sure what that said about the overall quality of my work…but with a unanimous vote (and a very red face in parts) I read it anyway.

I’ve never cared much for doctors. When I was little, I didn’t like them because I got strep throat every winter, and the doctors always stuck those giant Q-Tips down my throat to get a culture. When I was in kindergarten, my strep throat infection spread so much they had to admit me to the hospital. And while there, I had my finger pricked for blood tests so often that I had no desire to ever repeat the experience. The last time I went to an actual doctor was in sixth grade when I fell off my bike and broke my leg. I decided at that moment in life I would avoid doctors at all costs in the future. And I have, for the most part…until last summer.

I came down with a minor sore throat while on vacation. I took aspirin and ignored it. That usually works. But on the eight-hour ride home, it got worse. It didn’t hurt to talk, but my throat closed so much that I could barely swallow. In fact, for the next two days I lived on ice cream, because it was the only thing I could swallow. My roommate at the time hadn’t been feeling well either, and one day she announced that she had been to the clinic, and she had strep. I cringed. I could see that whole kindergarten hospital experience about to be repeated.

“Did they weigh you at the clinic?” I asked her. I hate that about doctors.

“No.”

“Did they stick a giant Q-Tip down your throat?”

“No.”

“What exactly did they do?”

“They looked at my throat with the flashlight, said I had strep, gave me drugs, and sent me home.”

This was my kind of doctor’s appointment, I decided. No scales. No Q-Tip. Medicine. I was all for it. The next morning, I called my friend Cathy and asked her to drive me to the clinic. She called ahead and found out they had a long waiting list, so she called another clinic and made an appointment for me there. I figured one clinic was as good as the next, so I agreed to go. Big mistake.

I spent about fifteen minutes filling out paperwork when I got there. While I wrote, I watched the receptionist fill black and dark purple balloons with helium and decorate the back room of the clinic. I sincerely hoped she was decorating for an over-the-hill party and not a funeral.

At last a nurse came to get me. She was armed with a file newly created just for me. I didn’t want a file. I wanted medicine, and I wanted to go to bed. I was headed straight for the room on the right when that nurse said to me, “Stop here, hon.”

I hate it when strangers call me “hon.” I looked over to where she was pointing. Scales. I stopped right in front of them, just like she said. She never said to get on the scales, but apparently, from the look on her face, that was precisely what she wanted me to do. I got on, and while she fidgeted with the weight measurements with one hand, she pulled up the height measurement with the other.

“You’re 5’4”,” she announced. I panicked. I’ve been 5’6” for about four years now, and anyone who cannot accurately measure height should not have access to my medical records.

The nurse put me in the examining room and did all the temperature and blood pressure things. She told me to wait for the nurse practitioner, so I did as I was told. Pretty soon, the nurse practitioner walked in. She was wearing a sleeveless red dress and black heels. I thought, Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t you have a white coat or a badge or something that lets me know you have the authority to do what you are about to do? The woman opened up the file and began at the beginning.

“You have a sore throat today?”

“Uh-huh. And a little bit of an ear ache. My roommate just came home with strep.” I know you’re not supposed to suggest a diagnosis to doctors, but I just wanted to get this whole visit over and go to bed.

“So when was your last visit to the gynecologist?”

“Excuse me?”

“The gynecologist. I see that you’re twenty-one. You should go to the gynecologist when you’re eighteen and every two years after that until you’re thirty and then every year after that.”

“Oops.” What was I supposed to say? I’ll worry about that later. Now I have a sore throat. I’m not an anatomy expert, but I think she was worried about the wrong end of the body.

“It’s real easy, hon. We just take a tool and…” I quit listening. I didn’t even want to think about that right now. “…and we do offer that here. You need to think about having that done.”

She moved on. I was so glad.

“Are you sexually active?”

I almost got up and walked out at that point. What did it matter? I had a sore throat, and that was all I cared about. Instead of saying all that flooded into my mind at that moment, I simply replied, “No.”

“I see here that you drink caffeine. Do you drink a lot?” She gave me that squinty I-hope-you-won’t-say-yes-but-I-think-you-will-look.

“Depends,” I answered. I was thinking, Lady, if you were going into your senior year of college with no clue about what you want to do when you grow up, working a full time job, and trying to keep good grades, you’d take in as much caffeine as is required each day to make your life bearable.
“Well,” she said, “you really shouldn’t have more than two glasses of caffeinated beverages a day, okaaaaaaay?” She talked to me like English was not my native language. I nodded. She never said what size glasses those two should be. I could drink two sixty-four ounce Mountain Dews and still be in her limit.

“So what did your grandparents die of?” I know I gave her a look on that one. I didn’t know I was going to have a full interview. She hadn’t even looked at my throat. I tried to think.

“I don’t know…cancer?”

“Mmmmm.” I figured I was due for a lecture on cancer exams now. “Which ones died of cancer?”

“I think my Dad’s Dad did. I don’t know. It was before my time. I think Dad’s Mom did, too.”

“Cancer of the what?”

“Colon?” At this point I was thinking, Pick a body part, any body part, hope it’s feasible to get cancer there, and be sure to avoid the throat. Well, she liked my answer so much, she wrote it down.

“And how about your Mom’s parents?”

“I think Grandpa died of…you know, I have no idea what he died of. He had a lot of things wrong with him. And Grandma had some strange disease that eventually made her heart stop beating.” After all, isn’t that what ultimately kills everyone?
“How are your parents?”

“Oh they’re fine.” In perfect health, I wanted to add. That is why I am here with a sore throat and they are at home with fine throats.
The lady finally got around to looking at my ears and throat. She called for a throat culture. I said with fear in my voice, “Is that, by chance, the giant Q-Tip?” She nodded.

The incompetent nurse returned to do the culture. “I’ll throw up,” I threatened.

“No you won’t.”

“I’m pretty sure I will.” I distinctly remember when I was in the hospital that time in kindergarten and I made such a threat, the nurses held my hand. They also talked loudly and tried to distract me so I’d forget the giant Q-Tip was playing Twister with my tonsils.
This lady apparently did not graduate from the same friendly institution. She just stuck a puke pan under my chin and said, “Here. In case you throw up.”

She did the throat culture, and I was so mad at her that I refused to throw up. She left for a while, and while she was gone, I made a solemn vow to never recommend this place to anyone, no matter how much I disliked them. The nurse came back a few minutes later and stuck a Polaroid camera in my face. “We take a picture of all our new patients on their first visits.”

You have to understand that I looked horrible. I had not brushed my hair. I was wearing no makeup. Not even zit concealer. My clothes were dirty because they were the only ones I could find that morning. This was not how I wanted to be remembered every time someone opened my file. She didn’t care. She took the picture anyway.

My favorite nurse left again and returned a few moments later. She handed me a giant sticker that showed a cartoon turtle with a thermometer in his mouth. It said, “I need some T.L.C.” I was slightly offended, so I said to her, “My boyfriend is 500 miles away from here right now. This is not going to help me.”

As a consolation prize, she stuck out three Dum-Dum suckers and said, “Pick a flavor!” I was thinking, What! I am twenty-one years old and you are giving me a sticker and a sucker?
The nurse practitioner returned in her red dress and black heels with five days of complimentary antibiotics and a prescription for the other five days. I took one look at those pills…they were the size of three aspirins put together! I could barely swallow water at that point, and she expected me to swallow those horse pills? I politely thanked her and left that examining area as fast as I could.

I left that clinic as fast as I could. I still have no idea why the nurse practitioner wore a sleeveless red dress and black heels instead of the traditional white coat. I don’t know why they were decorating the back room with black and purple balloons. But there is one thing I do know: next time I’m going to a real doctor!

One More Thing About the TP

What a week! Our busy season is officially upon us at work and the loss of my entire mind and sanity...extremely probable.

Because of this, the level of deep thoughts from my mind...minimal. The level of totally chaotic ramblings....well, expect it.

So today I had another toilet paper observation to tack onto the previous discussions found somewhere in a post below that I'm entirely too tired to link at this moment.

I think Kristin was the one who left a comment about how the work bathrooms sometimes put in the TP so it comes out the wrong way. And today I made the following additional observation about work TP. The size of a full roll of work TP is similar to that of a car's tire. I guess they don't want to change it except every six months or so? I'm not sure. Anyway, the problem is that when the roll is full and you pull on it, it breaks off, leaving you with about an inch of TP...so you try again...and again...and again...and after while, you realize you have this fist full of TP shreds and the tire is still firmly affixed to the wall....because the TP is half-ply! It can't support its own weight until it's time to change the roll!

It is a very sad point, I do realize, that after an entire week of having said nothing other than chatter of Idol travesties...all I have to talk about now is toilet paper.

To that I just say, TGIF.

Top Ten

Hey Phats, guess what! I knew TWO songs tonight on Idol! That's more than in the last two weeks COMBINED!!! :) I thought you'd be proud.

* Ramiele - I actually liked the background vocals better than I liked her. Not sure that's a good thing for her, but way to go for them! I agreed with Randy (often, tonight, actually) that she was way off pitch several times.

* Jason - I spent the first half of the song getting over those EYES in that baby picture! I kind of lose the eyes in the dreds now, but when he was a baby and he was bald, you couldn't notice anything else! The second half of the song I spent wondering if he had an aversion to singing a whole song through in English...and alternately laughing because right before I watched Idol, I watched an episode of Friends where Phoebe and Monica were making fun of the way someone said "mo-bile" (in reference to a phone) and his "fragile" reminded me of that. So I'm actually not sure I paid enough attention to the song to know how well he really did.

* Syesha - You go, girl! That was just amazing. I still love her because I think she is one of only two or three in the whole thing who can already pull off the entire star quality factor. I thought she did a super job.

* Chikeze - I know his choice was not popular with the judges, but I actually liked the slower song. I do wish he and Simon would stop trying to outlast each other on arguments. That part gets old after while.

* Brooke - I loved it that she stopped and restarted because I think it made her real. I also love it when she plays the piano. It was 100 times better than last week, and I think she is definitely making a place for herself in music, whether or not she wins this.

* Michael - I really really loved it - and this was one of the two songs I knew. Song totally gets on my nerves, but I thought he did a great job with it and I loved watching the audience really get into it. I agreed with the judges that it was his best night ever.

* Carly - I liked the beginning, but I did NOT love the part where she tried to be a rocker. I was glad Simon agreed with that.

* David A. - I'm still a fan, but I really thought that it sounded like a high school talent show tonight. I was waiting for Simon to say that (since that's one of his commonly used descriptors) but he went the theme park route instead.

* Kristy Lee - Okay first let me say that I do think the song is an amazing song and I appreciate the respect it gives to our country. BUT. It's been played so much that I was not excited that she chose it. I would agree that it was her best, but not the best (by a long shot) that song has ever been performed. But since she'll get all the country music lovers' votes, it was good enough, I'm sure.

* David C. - I want this guy to win it. He's amazing and I loved what he did. Loved it. My favorite of the night.

Bottom 3? You know I never get this right. Um, Ramiele, Chikeze, Carly?

Game Night and Easter

Well, Cara and Phats beat the snot out of me in Dutch Blitz, but this is one of two rounds I did manage to win. I'm pointing to my empty card pile...I was so proud of that because you have no idea how good those two are at this game!

We played a new (to us anyway) game this time called Three for All. It was pretty fun, and Phats won the first round - so Cara posed as the loser.


And this was the Easter dress. I especially appreciate how you can STILL see my tan line (at the sock level) from last year. Good grief.

And Then Sometimes It Is

Okay so if you read about yesterday, this is the conclusion of the photo lab story. I wrestled with whether or not to say anything when I picked up my pictures today. The consumer part of me wanted to ask for some sort of compensation for stuff not being ready when they said it would be. The works-in-customer-service part of me didn't want to become that customer that creates the need for exceptions and checking with the manager and all that.

I was definitely not the poster child for filing a complaint. This is how it went. I approached the counter where a very nice and coherent-looking woman that I've never seen before was working. I said (while twisting my purse handle and looking down) "Um, I know that maybe there's nothing you can do about this, but for what it's worth, I came to get these last night when they were supposed to be ready well before closing time and they weren't done and while that might not be a big deal in the grand scheme, I didn't even get an apology or anything...and..." (at this pointed I decided to just stop rambling.

She said, "Well I heard they had paper jam problems last night. Do you want to check your pictures to see if they're okay?"

I said, "Well, I'm sure they're fine. It's just that I intended to send them out to someone and then I couldn't and..."

And then came the famous, "Let me check with the manager." Rats. I became that person.

But it worked out. The manager gave them to me for half price.

And to top it all off - front row parking. AND I managed to locate my OWN car this time.

Sometimes it Just isn't Your Day

This morning I was actually RELIEVED for the alarm to sound. That's never good on a Monday. I'm not sure what I ate or drank (or didn't eat or drink) before bedtime last night that led to this, but I had entire night packed full of the most awful dreams. I kept waking up and I would go back to sleep thinking that waking up would solve the problem...but no. I'd have more dreams.

I went to the shower to discover that the shower head which has been working fine since I fixed it on Saturday...has in fact, unfixed itself. I didn't have time to mess with it, so I tossed all my showering stuff in a towel and carted it to the other bathroom. It's been a while since I used that shower and it turns out that the water actually pelts you as it comes out of the shower head. I did not appreciate the pelting of hot water after so little sleep.

The day at work actually went fairly well - another scary thing. Whenever you have a Monday (when you're down two people at work, no less) that is actually GOOD during office hours and BAD off the clock? That's not a good sign.

Anyway, so I came home, decided for once in my life to exercise early instead of after I'd completely run out of energy, changed into my workout clothes, climbed onto the elliptical...

Batteries are dead.

Fortunately I remembered that I also had pictures to drop off to the photo lab, so I changed back into the non-workout clothes, drove to Wal mart, dropped off the pictures with 40 minutes to spare before they stopped processing for the night and came home. I figured I would go back in an hour, pick up the pictures along with the batteries, come home, exercise, and still be done early. While I waited, I redid a scrapbook page (finished it over the weekend...a baby page...and today I got the birth announcement in the mail, so of course I had to include that), and then back in the car I went.

I arrived at the photo lab to find the "Here's the envelopes if you want to drop off pictures" display out and the lab guy cleaning equipment at the back. I've played this game before. I re-read the posted hours which said "lab open until 9 pm, last drop off of pictures one hour before closing." So I stood there. I'm fairly certain he saw me a couple of times before he actually acknowledged me. He hunted around for my pictures, couldn't find them, hunted some more...finally discovered my request ticket on the printer. With no apology, he told me that they hadn't "come through" until he'd shut down the equipment for the night. When had I come in? I said, "An hour ago...and I omitted the part where he watched me put in my order at the little computer.

I guess I'll see what kind of fighting mood I'm in tomorrow. I have my "this is not a receipt" that clearly states my photos will be ready for pickup at 8:21 pm TODAY. So, Cara, if you're reading this, THIS is why you don't have an email full of pictures from game night. They're not DONE YET.

At this point, I had to wonder...why do I continue to put myself through the Wal Mart hassle?

I used to take all my pictures to CVS, but I began to have problems with them chopping off random (and sometimes necessary) parts of my pictures, so I stopped.

Then I went to Wal-Greens, but the last straw there was at Christmas when they printed all 125 of my Christmas card pictures in some really bad quality and then gave me a bit of hassle over fixing them at no charge.

So for all of this, I have concluded that I will welcome the arrival of Meijer in town...perhaps I will enjoy their photo lab?

And just as a bit of polish on my evening...I walked out into the parking lot, still rather steamed over my picture fiasco, strolled confidently toward my car, and as I nearly approached the driver's door, I hit the remote lock...and definitely heard the car BEHIND me unlock. Woops. I was headed straight for my car's twin. I did an embarrassing about-face and slid into my car before anyone (that I could see) saw me.

Perhaps tomorrow will be better?

Easter Pageant Pictures

My Sunday post is two posts down...but since I talked about the Easter Pageant, I thought I would post a few pictures I have.

This was the part that was happening on stage when I was sneaking out the side during the Hallelujah chorus (that will make sense if you read the post below) - so I didn't see it for many years. Once I switched roles, I got to sneak a peek (supposed to be "sleeping" while this happened) and watch it. The tomb always fascinated me because there was some sort of screen over the entrance, so the person inside always looked...not like a person. It gave that "angel" thing more of a real feeling.

Oh Mom would not be amused to know I have posted this, so don't tell her, okay? This was a picture...probably from when I was about a fifth grader (judging from the hair) of our "Pilgrim Family 3." The Pageant took place in a coliseum and the whole basketball floor was the "stage" - along with an actual stage at the end of it. Because we were so far away from the crowd (who sat in the bleachers), we had to wear heavy makeup so we didn't look washed out. After the Pageant on Sunday morning, we would rush home and have to scrub all the makeup off our faces, hands, and legs (anything that showed had to be made up) and then start over getting ready for church. I was usually finding traces of makeup even after several showers. That stuff stayed around forever!

More Memories

This picture shows the cymbal girls dancing through the lines of harpists. I always loved this part of the pageant, because it was so fun to watch the crowd. I would sit just to the right of all the guys in the lower part of the picture, and I would always turn my attention to the people in the bleachers across from me. Those who hadn't seen the production before had no idea how loud those cymbals were going to be when they crashed...and they'd all jump and then try to look around as though it hadn't startled them. Very funny. I sat right in front of the orchestra during that part, so I got the full ear-brunt of the cymbal crash. The cymbals they used for this song were enormous and for many years, the lady who played them was this itty bitty petite lady...actually about the same size as the cymbals. I had no idea how she could manage them, but did she ever!

I'm actually in this one...that's me there on the step in the pink costume and white head piece. This was the part where the Christus (that was what they called the man who played Jesus in the Pageant) blessed the children. I don't remember much about this part because pretty much by the time I was old enough to have Pageant memories, I was too tall to be in the blessing scene.


I was probably about 22 or so the first time I ever saw this scene, and it mesmerized me once I saw it in full costume and makeup. For the first 20 or so years I was in the Pageant, the role I played was offstage during the Last Supper scene, so I never saw it. But in college, I switched roles and got to stay out on the floor the entire time, so I was laying down on the floor with a perfect shot of this amazing scene. The curtain went up and the Christus and all the disciples were perfectly still in the pose of the famous painting. They'd break the pose to do the Last Supper and then go back into the pose as the curtain went down.

Back in the "good" days of the Pageant, this cross-bearing scene was always really powerful because the director would ask the crowd to get all riled up and fight against the line of soldiers holding them back. When the lady who directed for many years had to stop and someone else took her place, this part never had quite as much power behind it.

This is actually a postcard that they made one year...and our family is on it! It is obviously quite an old picture, because I'm that little girl in pink being held by her father right next to the soldier. Mom is the one in yellow beside us. I was always most nervous during this part because the whole room was dark except for the lights right over the stage - and it would get so hot up there. I always figured if I'd ever be likely to pass out, it would happen right at this moment.

Bits for Sunday, March 23, 2008

Happy Easter! I noticed just a moment ago that giant snowflakes are flitting about outside…seems inappropriate for Easter Sunday, but I’m just thankful they waited until nightfall and that the day itself was filled with beautiful sunshine, even if the temps were a bit on the frigid side.

I know I’ve written something to this effect before (probably every year) but Easter still just doesn’t feel the same to me since the Easter Pageant ceased to exist a few years ago. This morning’s newspaper had an editorial that said in closing, “Perhaps the performance has gone through its own Good Friday and its resurrection waits.” I’ll admit, I’m skeptical. I doubt it will ever return, and if it does, and it’s altered (a.k.a. scaled down) in any way from the way I knew it for twenty-something years, it will be tough to see. But that just comes from a girl who resists change.

Last night, as I sat propped up in bed, bawling my fool head off over my week-old Biggest Loser tape, I glanced at the clock, which glared a red 1:45 a.m. and found myself very thankful that I didn’t have to be out of bed in an hour and fifteen minutes to head for a rousing round of freezing makeup. That was always my least favorite part…the forcing myself to go to bed at 9 or 10 the night before Easter and then tossing and turning while I watched the clock propel forward…and then that nasty alarm sounding, and I could only hope to stay awake enough to drive coherently.

But even with the sunrise service and its cold, cold four a.m. makeup call, I loved the Pageant, and I miss it. I thought about watching the DVD of it last night just for posterity’s sake, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I like to watch it…but somehow watching it this weekend…the weekend that it should have been…I just couldn’t do it.

This morning when I finally responded to the blaring of the alarm (I always know it’s time to actually pay attention to it when the cats become annoyed at the snoozing and stand over my head to wake me up), I was so excited to see the sunshine peeking around the edges of the blinds. I knew it would be ten times colder than it looked…and I shivered just thinking about the sleeveless dress and strappy sandals…but hey. Not my fault Easter showed up so early this year!

Easter Sunday at church is always fun…the one time a year that even those who vehemently resist dressing up might actually surprise everyone. And then there’s all these boys – from the month old baby to the 10 year old – sporting ties and vests, and probably hating every minute of it. During donut time, I was holding Liam (who is almost two) and he proceeded to pitch a tiny fit, which his father and I tried to quickly stop…and once he stopped kicking, I noticed his poor tie had started to come undone all around his collar. So while he half-glared at me for spoiling his fun, I was trying to poke the edges of the tie back into his collar…thinking that for all the annoyances of dresses and heels, sometimes guys have it so much worse. Even 2 year olds.

I spent too long hovering in the donut room with Liam and slid into church just as service was beginning. Bad mistake to make on Easter Sunday. One of two Sundays a year that the sanctuary is always packed, and I pick that Sunday to show up late. Of course the first couple of rows had seats to spare, but I prefer the back, so I spotted the first open aisle and sat down. In someone’s family pew. Woops. During the prayer, I scooted across the aisle to sit with some friends who had saved me a seat (but I didn’t see them), and that was when my little “Easter Pageant moment” hit.

I’d noticed that the sanctuary was quite dark when I came in. (Hunting seats goes much easier in the light.) The lights were dimmed and the windows were covered…mysterious, but certainly it lent itself to atmosphere. After I slid into the pew across the way during prayer, I noticed it seemed lighter. While it was a relief to have someone to sit with on Easter – I doubted it would actually create that much of a lighter feeling in my mind. So I peeked. The lights in the sanctuary were on, the cross at the front was lit up, and the last covering on the outside window was being removed…and suddenly it really felt like Easter.

And that was what brought me back to the Pageant days. Because for as exhausting as it was to get up at 3 for makeup at 4, it was always so nice to sneak out the side door of the building (to beat the crowds) as the Hallelujah chorus played – loudly – and walk out into full-fledged sunlight. That made it Easter.

So even though the day was different from the Easters I knew and loved, it was still a good day. And someday, I’m just sure of it, I’ll find a new tradition. It can’t replace the original one, but it can definitely fill a void.

The Commercial Wal-Mart

Today was my "no" day. I have one of those every month. I don't make plans with anyone...I don't schedule any appointments...I don't even have to do my hair if I don't feel like it. It's just a day to rest up and do whatever I want...or not do anything and not feel guilty about it.

So today I read half a book...did a couple of scrapbook pages...made some little bird nest things (from chocolate and chow mein noodles) for the family Easter lunch tomorrow...talked on the phone...watched some TV...exercised...fixed the shower head so it would work better...sorted pictures...

And somewhere in the middle of all that, I saw the Wal-Mart commercial. Three times. A happy little tune played while all these chipper looking checkout people happily scanned items and bagged them and smiled lovingly at one another across the cash registers. The lines were refreshingly short and just as they started to get too long (too long being over two carts waiting), more eager employees rushed to open new lanes, sporting big smiles as they welcomed weary shoppers to their aisle.

WHERE IS THIS WAL MART? I want to shop there.

Good Old 14A

Lori, I did that just for you. :)

I cannot tell you how HAPPY I am to see the sun peeking up over the side of the building outside my window! I was getting pretty weary of rain and had hoped for this beautiful first day of spring, we'd get to see the sun even for a second. Not being one who watches weather forecasts, I have no idea if it plans to stay for the entire day, but I'm glad it showed up for the occasion.

So happy first day of spring...and for those of you who are confused about the Good Old 14A title, that's a line from an Andy Griffith show. The choir was singing the song "Welcome Sweet Springtime" - and Barney couldn't sing on key. But he was so excited to be in the choir that he wanted to keep practicing the song, which was number "Good Old 14A."

Lori and I are Andy fans...and once upon a time faced off in an Andy Trivia game.

I lost.

Badly.

Top Eleven

Jaye, I hope you got to see the show tonight so you can tell me what you thought - maybe we agreed?

* Amanda - This week I gave up and turned on the captions early. It's a good thing I did because once again I understood only about 20% of what she said. Having said that, I think it was the best SHE has ever done, and I liked the presence of energy that has been lacking before. I thought she connected with the audience better this time than ever before.

* Kristy Lee - Well, her low notes sounded really off key to me. I'm not the greatest detector of pitch, but several times I wondered if she was way off or if it was supposed to sound like that. I agreed with the judges that she just tried to play it way safe. And I'm still laughing about her comment to Simon.

* David A. - Phats, I'm sorry, I know that he annoys you, but I just loved him. I was so happy for him that he remembered all his words and redeemed himself from last week. I thought it was beautiful and it was probably my favorite of the night.

* Michael - I didn't know the song, but I was scared for him when he started singing after I heard him say he'd picked a long song and tried to pick out the best parts. That can't be good. I thought he was off pitch a few times too. It was really funny that Paula made the big deal about the monitors and then he wasn't wearing any!

* Brooke - Oh bless her heart; I still just love her to pieces but she seemed so NERVOUS! I hated that for her. It wasn't nearly as good as she can do, but I still love her and I do appreciate her choice to at least try something different.

* David C. - I just love him (sorry Phats, I know his hair bugs you). The voice box thing (or whatever they called it) was fun, I thought, and I love it when he uses the guitar too. I like it that he's trying to show people (much as Amanda said she was doing) what they would get if they came to one of his concerts.

* Carly - Well, I tried. I really tried again to like her. This week I determined that if I had closed my eyes, I probably would have loved the song, because her voice sounded great. But once again, bottom line, she scares me. Watching her scares me.

* Jason - Oh so corny. He was a charming cutie (Jaye) but so corny. I thought half the time he had almost an apologetic look on his face...like he was sorry we had to watch/listen to that. I agreed that it was awkward.

* Syesha - She's BAAAAAACK! I loved it. I really hope that she doesn't follow in the Haley/Katharine footsteps of relying on looks to step up votes, because she is way better than that. But I loved her song.

* Chikeze - CONFUSED ME. I agreed with the judges that he had multiple singing personalities up there. I would just get used to one style and he'd switch. That's a lot of change for a minute thirty of music. I was with Simon about the harmonica, too.

* Ramiele - Way better than last week. Definitely more fun. But not my favorite of the night.

Bottom 3? I would say Kristy Lee, Michael, Brooke, Chikeze, and Ramiele could all be in danger of the bottom 3. If I were picking, I'd put Kristy Lee and Chikeze in for sure, and I can't decide between Michael and Brooke for the third spot. (Both Michael and Brooke deserve to stay, ultimately.) My pick for elimination would be Kristy Lee.

Bits for Sunday, March 16, 2008

This week I went to a poetry reading. Yes, you read that right. Poetry. For those of you who attend my church and were present on the famous “bachelorette” night – you will recall that I said out loud that I am not a poet. Can’t write it, can barely understand it, and retained my honor scholarship despite that class in college only through the immense grace and mercy of my professor.

Nevertheless, I went to a poetry reading this week. The poet, Susanna Childress, was in college with me – actually a year behind me in school. She was one of those writers that made all the English and writing professors tingle with joy because she was so good. To say she has a gift is an understatement. She knows how to properly use words that I’m still sounding out. She can do things with her writing craft (probably with little effort) that I couldn’t even begin to understand after having a four year degree in the subject.

Yet the thing I loved about Susanna was that she was a real and fun friend. There were many writers in my classes who intimidated me profusely when we had to participate in the dreaded peer-editing exercises. They handed me the next great American literature fresh off their printer, and I handed them what felt like the next draft of a Berenstein Bear book. And Susanna was the one that intimidated me most because I was so afraid that she would be bored with what I wrote…and I would be too stupid to understand what she wrote. But those fears were in my mind only, and she was always so much fun in and out of class. Full of life and personality, she had a way of easing my fear of her intelligence and ability.

Well, Susanna has since graduated…and graduated again with a master’s degree…and graduated again with a doctorate…and gotten married…and published a book of poetry…and currently she’s a guest professor at a college in Michigan.

So you can well imagine why, as I drove the few blocks from my house to the reading, I was secretly hoping she might not remember me and if she did remember me, I fervently hoped she wouldn’t ask what I was doing these days. So little has changed for me since I knew her before that I had to make sure I wore something to the reading that I didn’t own in college…I at least wanted her to know I’d purchased a new outfit here and there!

I arrived at the reading, which was filled with college students who were required to go to such things…and I remembered those days for me. Oh how I love being out of school! I walked in and amazingly enough, she spotted me before I even saw her! She ran right up and gave me a hug…so much for remaining anonymous.

The evening began, and she took her place behind the microphone and began reading from her book, and I began trying to decipher such words as convivial, fricatives, parsimonious, and stratagem. She promised during one poem that I would be able to catch a glimpse of some sort of rhyme…but truly, the only rhyme I’m smart enough to follow is in the style of Dr. Seuss. And Susanna doesn’t write about green eggs and ham, or Horton hearing a Who.

The reading ended and I had a minute or two to catch up with my friend…during which time she asked me the dreaded question of “So what have you been up to since college?” I took a deep breath and zoned in on the main accomplishment I could find – getting a house. She looked straight at me and said “Ohhhhhh I’m so jealous of that! I’m going to spend the next two years commuting every week between two states and teaching at two colleges. I would just love to have a house and settle down.”

Another one of those moments when I’m sure God was sitting there nodding and saying “See?? I try to tell you and you just don’t pay attention to Me.” Yes, yes. There I was, face to face with the published, doctorate-holding, happily-married friend of mine, and still there was something about life in Bekah-land that could hold some merit in her mind.

So I can’t write poetry. It’s okay. I made peace with that a long time ago. I’m perfectly satisfied to be able write the way I write. So I don’t have my doctorate. It’s okay. I probably have more gray hair than she does, but at least I came about it without the stress of writing a dissertation.

Before I left the reading, I purchased her book. She gets eleven cents a copy and I wanted to help the cause. I read through a few of the poems. I would have to do some serious studying to grasp even a fraction of their well-honed craft. But I am excited for her that she was able to publish this book and I’m glad to own a copy. And while she pursues teaching and publishing book number two, I’m going to enjoy my settled life in my (currently unsettled from cooking-clutter) house.

In the Footsteps of Jesus...

Back on January 1, I posted about the first of fifty "must read" (in my opinion) books. If I choose a new book every 2 1/2 months, at the end of a decade, I'll have a list of fifty books that I think everyone should read at some point in life. Today I bring you book #2. It's called In the Footsteps of Jesus: One Man's Journey Through the Life of Christ.

I happened upon this book in December 2007 during an impulsive shopping trip to a Christian discount bookstore. My hands were already tired of holding a very heavy shopping basket, but the store was going out of business and I just couldn’t pass up the deals as I walked the aisles. This was the very last book I tossed in – I found it hidden among other books of subject matter that didn’t interest me. I purchased it more out of curiosity than anything else, but I now count it as one of the most soul-changing purchases I ever made.

In 1993, a man named Regardt Van Den Bergh began filming a four-hour, word-for-word depiction of the Gospel of Matthew. Bruce Marchiano portrayed Jesus in Regardt’s film, and this book is his testimony of how that role forever changed not only his life, but the way he related to his Savior.

The closing words of the preface to the book, written by Bruce himself, say this: Lord Jesus, thank You that You know us so well, so specifically. Thank You that You know every heart, every dream, every hope, desire, and circumstance. O mighty God Jehovah, let not one of us walk away without a fresh look at You, a fresh touch from You, a fresh understanding of You. Father, I submit us all to be loved, to be held, to be embraced by You. To be filled with Your joy. To hear Your heart and taste the warmth of Your smile. In your precious name. Amen. (p. xii)
I experienced a bit of each part of that prayer as I read through Bruce’s book and underwent a transformation in the way I knew and related to Jesus. I’ve known Jesus all my life, and even though I had experienced His love and direct involvement in my life, there was still a side of me that related to Him as Someone Who was a bit unapproachable. But after reading Bruce’s interpretation of Jesus as He interacted with those whose lives He touched, I now approach my time with God in an entirely different way. A real way.

This book is filled with excerpts from Bruce’s journal, stories of specific scenes that touched his heart, the support of the cast and crew who enabled him (through prayer, encouragement, and Scripture reading) to complete this enormous task of quoting Jesus’ words in the book of Matthew verbatim. He shares the experiences of his life that shaped him to play this role and how those same experiences shaped him as a Christian; he also offers glimpses into the lives of the extras who thought they were just playing a filler-role in a movie, but ended up changed forever by their brush with the real Jesus through the filming of a Gospel. There are also pictures from the set to help explain the emotion in ways that even words cannot grasp.

Since this book was such a recent purchase, I’ve only read it through completely one time, but I am convinced that God’s blessing rests heavily on these pages. At the time I read it, I was also reading another book that started digging through my heart and revealing difficult things about me. Each night, I would read the tough book first and then I would reach for this one to find a bit of joy and comfort so that I would be able to sleep when I went to bed. And each time, the love and mercy of God that I so needed to find were waiting within the pages of Bruce’s story.

Here are some quotes from throughout the 218 page book:

He had no problem fully being who He fully was and fully living what He fully felt, every full moment of every full day…as hard as He laughed and as big as He smiled, that’s how hard He wept and how deeply His heart broke. (p. 78)

His every move, every word, every healing, every rebuke, every drop of blood – an act of love! From the moment He lay in the manger to the day He disappeared behind the clouds – all acts of love. (p. 92)

For the first time in my life, I understood what the word “compassion” means when it comes to Jesus Christ. I understood that it isn’t just feeling sorry for people; it’s a heartbreak so intense, so deep it’s like your gut is ripped open. It is a heartbreak that screams in utter agony for the needless, pointless pain of people – people who need only turn to Him. What I felt that day was so incredibly tragic. And there can be no doubt what I tasted was just a drop of water in the oceans of the universe compared to what it truly feels like for Him. (p. 116)

It’s a picture of Jesus we seldom think about: perspiring in the sun from dawn to dusk, hoisting timbers, carving, shaping, sawing, sanding. Panting in the afternoon heat, hair matted with dirt and dust and workshop grime. Working endless hours into the night, pushing to meet deadlines over the days, weeks, years. Singing psalms at the top of His lungs while planning doors, carving plows, and fitting ox yokes. (p. 125)

Every believer should wear a crown of thorns and hang on a cross for ten seconds – they would never be the same. And I can’t help but feel that every non-believer would accept Christ on the spot if he did the same. I have never felt so alone, so naked, so ugly, so emotionally bare – and I was just play-acting, dipping my toe into the experience of the cross. What He did for us! He chose it! (p. 177)
I realize that some people may be wary of a book like this because for a person to take on the role of playing Jesus could bring about the writing of opinions that could be considered out of line. But I found nothing offensive in the book. Bruce never claims to be Jesus. He simply shares from his heart the experience he had playing the role, and multiple times, he reminds his readers that he experienced only a brief taste of what Jesus would have known. But to read this book is to see into a deeply emotion-filled, hands-on Savior who simply lived each day to love, not threaten or intimidate, His children into eternity.

Toilet Paper Discussions

Perhaps my strangest post ever...

If you visit Malott's blog, you'll see where this discussion began along with a variety of opinions about the proper rolling pattern of the TP.

So, Chris, here you go. I never did win the fight with my camera/computer, so I had to develop these...and have I mentioned that the photo lab people don't even ask my name anymore...they just get my pictures for me? I'm sure they wonder about this one...

OH! And by the way, halfway through my picture taking, I realized my black/white setting was on, so that's the reason for the lack of color. I wasn't trying to be artistic.

Okay here's the bathroom with the freestanding TP holder. As you can see, I have it rolled over the top as we all know it should be rolled. I also opened the dryer door just a little tiny bit so you can see why I have the need to ever move the holder at all...to open the door all the way, I have to swing the arm of the holder around....
...which then makes the TP roll from the underside...which we established, is NOT the correct way to go. Yes, I realize I could just pick the whole thing up and move it, but it's actually kind of heavy. You wouldn't think so, but it is. I'm afraid one day it's going to come apart if I pick it up by the top too much. Oh - and you can see Braeya being a helper girl in this picture too. Never can she leave any event un-participated-in. Not even a toilet photo shoot.

But as I mentioned in my comment to you, this is what I often come home to....

And no. I didn't unroll it to make my point. I came home to it just like this the time I took the pictures.
Sigh. Two year olds.

So close...

Well for being terrible at predictions (no comment, Phats), I was very happy to see that I had at least two of the bottom three right. And this week's performances aside, Syesha had no business in that bottom three. She had a bad night, yes, but she did not deserve to be close to being out this early.

I still hoped it would be Kristy Lee going home, but I was fine with David going instead. By the time they got to the final two, I really didn't care...I was just so relieved Syesha was safe.

But in other news...I forgot to check the TV guide and thought that Idol came on at 8. I was mid-hair-dye at the time, so I didn't change the channel and watched Moment of Truth since it came on. I have seen it a couple of times before but WOW. Last night was ruthless! I think the guy was wise to stop before his wife had a complete mental breakdown. I think they asked way too many marriage questions. Does he have no other facet of life they could probe instead? I'm still not sure how I feel about that show. Yeah the money's great - but so is a sense of privacy!

Kaegan, Idol, and DST

I hate to admit it. Two DAYS into daylight savings and I've already overslept an hour. I'm in big trouble.

But I tried very hard to wake up and participate in the day because it was a way busy day at work, AND...

Kaegan turned seven today. That itty bitty kitty from days gone by is now a well-fed (more so than I realized!) big cat who loves nothing more than a nice, uninterrupted nap on the edge of my bed. Unfortunately his sister rarely affords him that luxury.

I took some pictures today, but my computer and I are at odds over posting them prior to scanning, so until they're developed, here's a couple of pictures from seven years ago...the day after I got the little guy. I don't remember posting them before and I'm too lazy to look...so if they're repeats...sorry.
Kaegan was a gift from one of my college roommates, Christi. The day after I got him was a work day and she missed him so much that she asked me to drop him by her apartment so she could play with him while I worked. He'd never spring for that now. Car rides can only mean one thing: THE VET. Anyway, my buddies at work wanted to see him, so she put him in this little basket and brought him to the office for show and tell.


Yeah, about the hair...it was a rough phase. It has passed. I do miss the tan though. I had just been in a wedding...and so I'd tanned in preparation.
In other news...Idol's top twelve started tonight, and I was surprised. I think this season has more talent than I realized.
* Syesha - I love Syesha, but I was disappointed tonight. She can do so much better than she did...and I hope she has enough fans to get her another chance...I think odds are favorable.
* Chikeze - Shockingly, I loved his performance tonight. Phats, have you forgiven him yet for the comment to Simon? I thought tonight he proved he deserves to stay.
* Ramiele - I agreed with the judges that it was boring. It was kind of depressing, actually. Not because the song was slow, but because she seemed more focused on what/who she had lost in the weeks past (Danny?) than what is ahead of her.
* Jason - Jaye, I'll admit I am now able to see past the dreds and I really like him! I liked him better tonight than any week so far. I hope he stays.
* Carly - I tried valiantly to like her but it did not work for me. I am still so distracted by that massive tattoo against the shiny dress and curly hair that I can't listen to the songs!
* David C. - I just love him. He is like Daughtry for me...the only two who have ever really made me want to sit and listen to rock. He's just great!
* Brooke - I agreed with Paula - she has incredible passion and it comes across...and I feel that she has the courage and passion (not to mention talent) to make it as a singer. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to sit through a whole concert with just one of them, and she is one of the few that I think I would really enjoy listening to song after song...and I think she has enough character to make the talking-in-between-songs time interesting too.
* David A. - I agreed with Simon - very weak. I know he has a more powerful voice than he showed tonight. I didn't care for it.
* Amanda - I really appreciated that she showed some emotion...some life...tonight. Much improved over last week in that respect. But I couldn't understand half of what she said. I didn't know any of tonight's songs, but at least when everyone else sang, I could understand the words. With her, I almost turned on the captions because I was lost.
* Michael - I really like Michael, but like Syesha, I didn't think he did very well tonight. I was kinda bored.
* Kristy Lee - I didn't care for it at all. Because I didn't know the song, I couldn't quite fit in on the controversy of turning it country, but I didn't care for it.
* David A. - Poor lil David. He forgot his words! He has enough fans to sail him through to the next round, I 'm sure.
Based on all that, I would say that the bottom three should be Ramiele, David H. and Kristy Lee, with Kristy Lee going home.

Bits for Sunday, March 9, 2008

Well…I might end up asleep in the keyboard before this is written (HA!), but if I don’t…then I’ll have successfully survived the first day of Daylight Savings Time.

I’ve immensely enjoyed the last five or so months of “real time” as I call it, and for the last week, I’ve been trying to mentally prepare myself for this day and the next seven or so months of “wrong time.”

Actually, I’ve learned to enjoy a couple of things about DST. One thing is that I get to eat an hour earlier every meal…and that’s good. I also get off work at four now (in “real time”) – and I try not to think about how that means I go in at seven. Probably my favorite thing of all, truly, is the ability to have a less rushed evening in the summer. I enjoy being able to walk outside for my exercise and do my yard work and still eat dinner in the daylight. That part is so very nice.

But the adjustment into this really doesn’t go smoothly for me. I tried to explain it to someone at work…someone who grew up in a state that always changed time. She valiantly argued (and probably rightfully so) that it’s just not a big deal and you just start going to bed an hour earlier. Well I sure can do that…but I will just lay there and stare at the ceiling for that hour and then I’ll fall asleep at the time my body is used to conking out. It gets incredibly frustrating. I’ve tried to trick myself…train myself…nothing works.

I hear, though, that it takes a person three years to get used to it, so this is my year. This is the third time Indiana has switched over, so this must be the year. I am making a goal to make it all the way to the end without giving up and allowing my internal clock to revert to “real time.”

Last night I went around the house and changed all the clocks well before my bedtime. I kept telling myself it was later than it really was. I tried to go to bed earlier than I normally would, and I tried to convince myself I was actually tired. I think that whole plan would have gone much more smoothly had I not slept in so late yesterday morning.

This afternoon, when I would have so dearly loved to curl up in the fat chair and be dead to the world for a couple of hours…I forced myself to stand up at the table and scrapbook. When I thought about squeezing in just the tiniest little catnap before church…I made myself go to the kitchen and cook mac ‘n cheese and go to the church dinner.

So I have high hopes that I’ll be exhausted here in a bit and will fall right to sleep…and with one good night under my belt, I won’t even notice the time change.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

But for the faithful few in my corner of “why mess with the time?” – I found a few pieces of ammunition. I will share them with you at this time.

I heard on the radio this week that the number of vehicle accidents increases the week after a time change (the spring time change…not the fall one where everyone is extra rested). So as you drive to and from work this week…watch out for those of us who haven’t adapted yet.

And I saw on a Yahoo news article this week that DST actually increases utility bills. You can read the whole article here if you want, but to summarize…it said that while light bills go down, heating/cooling bills go up. This happens because in the spring and fall, people are cold in the mornings when they get up for work, so they have to run extra heat. And in the summer, they are home during the heat of the day when they otherwise would be at work, so they have to crank up the air. Granted, the article said the average consumer only pays $3.19 extra per year, but if you add up all the people in Indiana alone, that comes to a grand total of over 8 million dollars per year. And 8 million or not, as a consumer, I can tell you that $3.19 is almost five Polar Teas…almost a Whopper Junior value meal, and almost a caramel frappe with whipped cream and caramel drizzle. It’s also about seventeen pictures at the Wal-Mart photo booth or three hot fudge sundaes at McDonald’s.

So next time someone shoots a list of merits of the DST to you…you’ll have a list of your own to shoot right back.

Well, the hour is getting late…or so I tell myself. So I better post this and head toward bed in hopes of tricking myself further into thinking it is time to sleep.

The College Days

Now that Cassie's graduation book is done and my first year of life book is done, I decided to find another secondary scrapping project to keep me busy when I'm not working on my current book. So...I decided to begin the college years.

I actually started scrapping the very last semester of my senior year. So that semester has a rather less than par book completed, but the rest of my college pictures and momentos are tossed in a Wal-Mart bag in VERY unbekahlike fashion. They aren't dated, they're barely sorted, I can only guess from varying hairstyles and weights what year they might have been taken...you get the idea.

In addition, I'm not really sure what to journal about those years because I've already forgotten (or perhaps blocked?) so much. But then I got the brilliant idea to use the same technique I used in my senior year of high school book...consult my journals!

So last night I sat down and pulled out the journals. I made it through my freshman, sophomore, and first part of junior years. I was CRACKING UP at my stupidity. I journaled everything in those years - much better than I do now. I found everything I needed to put a date with most of the pictures...and stories that were absolutely hysterical. By the time I gave up and went to bed, I concluded that I really was an 80 year old in a 20 year old's body. I was such a nerd! And now I'm probably still a nerd...just closer to being the actual 80 year old.

So for your enjoyment before I start cropping and gluing....here's a small sampling of the college days.

This picture was taken the day I moved out of my parents' house and into the dorm...er..."residence hall." Moving day was quite an ordeal...maybe another time I'll post the pictures of how my bedroom threw up into my parents' living room. We were a four car caravan moving the whole 20 miles from home and I was worried that I wouldn't be able to fit everything into four cars. And to think I was sharing a room! Obviously I'd not done that before.

This is Lloyd, my festive Ford Escort that required a fresh supply of fluid in the radiator literally every time it was driven. My friends used to slide down in the seats while I popped the hood and poured more stuff in. I was SO cool.

Hmmmm....who's this? ;)

One of my best roomies in college...this was the year our suite was arranged so that all the beds and three of the desks were in one room and one desk and all our "entertainment needs" were in the other room. You can see in the background there that we were faithful to the Fresh Prince episodes!


And this was one of the pictures that had already been scrapped in the book of my last semester. When I graduated, my parents told me that my sister from Kansas and family could not come because I graduated on a weekend and my brother-in-law was a pastor and he couldn't be gone...blah blah blah.
So right after baccalaureate, they took me to Cracker Barrel to eat dinner, and as I was mid-story (shocker) - I realized someone was in my personal space. Yep! Lori flew home to surprise me, and as you can see...mission accomplished!
And for you fellow scrappers...do you like how I chose background paper to use as a mat...that matched my dress?

For the Book-Lovers

I am normally not one who runs out and buys a book the moment it releases. I've never stood in line for 48 hours for a Harry Potter book or anything like that. But this book is one that I think I will have to run out and buy when it releases here in a few days.

For my blogging buddies not from around here, you didn't hear about this story for days and days like we did, but it did hit national news, so you probably did see it if you lurk around breaking stories very much. There was an accident involving a van of students and staff from Taylor University - and five people were killed. That was big enough and heartbreaking enough news in and of itself, but then a few weeks later, they discovered the identity of the survivor coming out of a coma was actually not what they thought. One of the girls who was thought to be dead was really alive...and of course the same was also true in reverse.

The two families have now written a book and it's such an unusual and intriguing story that I am very anxious to read it.

So if you're looking for a new book to read...doesn't get much newer than this!

And the Girls

Well I wasn't quite the lazy person today that I was yesterday. The ice is melting and life is back to normal...until tomorrow when it starts all over again.

I was flipping through scrapbooks tonight and found a page from last year - almost to the day - and I was at an event where I clearly remember wearing CAPRIS. When is capri weather this year??

Well I watched the girls' night - and here are my thoughts.

Asia'h - Much better than last week - because she actually had her voice! I just love her energy. I was glad they put her up first. A fun start.

Kady - Well, better than last week, but I agreed with Simon that she still has a lack of personality. And while I know, I know, it's a singing competition...you gotta have SOME personality or it's just boring!

Amanda - Her hair was much less Cruella deVillish this week. I was with Simon again (WHAT!?!?) - she needs to show some emotion! She's very stoic and I think that is part of what bothers me about her.

Carly - Well, she wasn't quite as scary looking this week. Maybe the hair was softer? The eyebrows less arched? Something. I did recognize her vocal talent this evening and perhaps almost could say I liked it.

Kristy Lee - I was so glad Simon brought up the part about her being forgettable, because as she sang, I found myself wishing they would hurry up with her name across the bottom of the screen because I couldn't remember who she was! I think she's in trouble this week.

Ramiele - I CRACKED UP at the end when they showed Danny wearing her glasses. Pastor Brian, maybe you are right. Maybe they are one and the same! I liked her hair down a lot better and I thought she did a great job.

Brooke - Well what can I say for Miss Brooke? She's one of my top two favorites and I loved her!

Syesha - LOVED IT. My favorite of the night. I wish the judges would have liked her too!

I think Kristy Lee is going home - and I can't decide between Amanda and Kady for the other. I think either one of them could go.

Idol Guys

I just finished watching it this morning - and I learned that sometimes the judges and I hear very different songs.

* Luke - Bless his precious little heart - he is such a cutie and I would love to see him every week, but truly I don't think he had a good night and I don't think he'll be in the top twelve. Rats.

* David A - I didn't really love the song he sang, but he's just so stinking good at everything he does! I thought he balanced singing and playing well.

* Danny - All I can say (in his own words) is that he's TMTH.

* David H - WHAT!?!?! Don't sing Celine! I get really excited when I know a song, because I know so few of them, and not only do I know the song he sang...I love that song. And now I can't hear it ever again without thinking of that performance.

* Michael - Simon didn't like his rocker side, but I sure did!

* David C - I just love this guy. Loved the look, loved the guitar, loved the song, LOVED EVERYTHING!

* Jason - Might have actually started to grow on me this week. They zoomed in on his face enough that I was able to get past the hair a couple of times.

* Chikeze - I think I liked him better than the judges did. I thought he did a great job.

I think Luke is going home and I can't decide on the other one - I think it might depend on how much of a following Jason has and how much David H's news event of the week helps or hurts him.

Snow Day...or Rather, Ice Evening

I told Mom tonight that I am quite weary of the weather changing my plans! I was supposed to go to Kokomo this evening...breathe a little Hobby Lobby air...see Sarah's new house...watch a little Idol...and then came the ice.

BUT.

I was extremely excited because at 3:00, work sent us home! I'd only been back at work a little over 2 hours since my lunch hour and the ice that came down in that time was pretty hard to chip off the car! I forgot to clean off the wipers, so by the time I got home, I couldn't see much at all...probably not my safest drive.

Anyway, it was wonderful to come home and crawl into my fleece shirt and jammie pants and wrap up in a blanket and sit in the fat chair...remote in hand and iced tea on the end table. I'm a firm believer that weather days should be taken seriously, so I tried not to overdo. I mostly watched TV.

I did, however, make a pizza for dinner. A real from scratch pizza - not a frozen one. It seemed the thing to do while stuck at home!

The lights have been flickering...so I hope to make it through Idol before they go out!

Bits for Sunday, March 2, 2008

When you hear a great idea, you’re supposed to pass it on, right?

Well, several months ago, this seed of an idea was planted in my mind and is just too good to not share…so I’m sharing it today. I’m sure it’s not an original idea, but I suppose if I made it through this much of life without hearing of it until recently, surely someone else is the same way. So for those of you who already thought of this…come back next week, and I’ll try to come up with something original.

Last fall I participated in one of Beth Moore’s Bible studies. Not directly live and in person with her, you understand, but one of her video studies. A church in town offered her Believing God study, and since last year’s theme for my personal Bible study was faith…it seemed appropriate to learn more. And Beth is a very wise and grounded teacher, in my opinion, so I was excited to learn from her.

One week she taught from Joshua 4 – part of the account of the Israelites finally crossing the Jordan into the Promised Land. Verses 5b-7 say, “Each of you is to take up a stone on his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the Israelites, to serve as a sign among you. In the future, when your children ask you , ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them that the flow of the Jordan was cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. When it crossed the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. These stones are to be a memorial to the people of Israel forever.” To illustrate her point that week, Beth had surrounded her teaching area with huge rocks…twelve of them.

In our small group discussion later, our leader shared this idea…and I loved it so much that I adapted it a bit and have added it to my covenant list for this next decade.

My small group leader is a mother of two girls – and while I am not sure of their ages, they’re not too terribly old. She decided to start teaching them early about the relevance of God in their day to day lives. Of course she wants them to be well-grounded in the accounts told in Scripture, but she also wants them to be aware that God did not stop being personally involved in people’s lives after Revelation was written.

So she purchased some rocks at the craft store (the kind you use in decorating) and each time the girls recognize God’s answer to a prayer they’ve prayed, they write the date on one of the rocks and put it in a jar. As they watch that jar fill up with rocks, they’ll be reminded of times when God was actively involved in their lives.

Well, you know me…I love tangible learning methods. So I borrowed (stole?) her idea and added to it the extra step of journaling…because everything in my life involves journaling. How is it that I have avoided carpal tunnel up to this point?

The covenant I made with God is that over the course of the next ten years, I want to keep track of even some of the ways He works in my life. I’m aware that He’s more involved than even I recognize on a daily basis. But I want to capture those moments that need to be kept for my own remembrance as well as the preservation of my spiritual journey for my kids…if I ever have kids.

When I was little, I used to read the Grandma’s Attic books…anybody remember those? One of the stories was about Grandma’s button jar and how the storyteller would sit down beside her grandmother, pull out at button, hand it to her, and then wait to hear the story of that button…because every button had a story. Well, I may not have a jar of buttons, but I do have a jar of stones…and when someone pulls out a rock and hands it to me and says “What does this mean?” I want to be able to go to the journal, find the story and share how God worked in my life in such a powerful way that I wanted to remember it always.