yeah, they're girly...so?

I have a friend with whom I have almost nothing in common. Still, she's one of my best friends, a wonderful person of deep thought and heart.

I digress.

One of the things that this friend and I do not (and may never) agree on is the matter of chick-flicks. You know the ones. Girl meets boy, girl hates boy, they fall in love and get married and live happily ever after. At least that's the basic theme.

But I like chick-flicks, at least the good ones. Yesterday I was feeling one, so I chose The Jane Austen Book Club and curled up with a blanket. It's sweet, so much better than I thought it would be.

My friend hates chick-flicks is because, to her, they aren't realistic. Things aren't always happily after and they don't always work out. Love is full of heartache and worry and confusion and pain. I don't disagree with her. But chick-flicks make me smile and warm my heart, not because they're full of possible scenarios for my life, but because it just magnifies the parts of life that make life worth living. Those fleeting moments when things do work out. There's too much pain and hate and not working out in the world for me to hate on the sweet stuff that makes me smile, just because it's not realistic.

God gave a loaf to every bird,  

But just a crumb to me;

I dare not eat it, though I starve,—         

My poignant luxury        

To own it, touch it, prove the feat                

That made the pellet mine,—   

Too happy in my sparrow chance             

For ampler coveting.     

 

It might be famine all around,   

I could not miss an ear,         

Such plenty smiles upon my board,        

My garner shows so fair.             

I wonder how the rich may feel,—          

An Indiaman—an Earl? 

I deem that I with but a crumb     

Am sovereign of them all.

-Emily Dickinson

let's give thanks

This is a day late, I know. But I don't think I should have to make excuses for myself on my own blog, so I'm just going to go for it.

Here is what I am thankful for (this is not a complete list).

The first thing that comes to mind are my family, both immediate and (widely) extended. With each relationship I share, with each person I learn something new about the world, about life, about people. The family is the textbook, the practice, the environment in which we grow into the people we become.

Second are my friends, both close and not so close. People who, despite not being related to me, enjoy my company, challenge me, keep me laughing and continue to remind me that the world is greater and better than my own pettiness.

Third, and certainly not least, God Herself. Without Her, nothing I have, nothing I know, is special. SHe is responsible for the magic in my life, for the struggles, but also for the profound joy. Opportunities and blessings abound because of Her.

I hope your Thanksgivings were full of love, light and family. And food. Lots of food.

this blew my mind

I wasn't going to be among those whining and moaning about how the commercial holiday season seems to come sooner and sooner every year; but I think I'll join up.

The Santas, red bows, snow scenes, Christmas trees and even Christmas music that have gone up even before Halloween candy has been handed out seems so blatant that although it doesn't surprise me, I wonder if I am only among a few who are bothered by this?

I've always known that commerce, businesses, play a huge role in the 'holiday season' and that the celebration of Christmas, Hanukkah, and the winter equinox have been steamrolled by corporations doing anything and everything they can to make a buck...or a zillion of them.

The best part is how we just let it. For me, December means advent, it means the celebration of the birth of Christ, the warmth of love we need from each other in the coldest part of the year. A reminder that even though the world is cold, God shows us his love through the smiles of our families, friends and neighbors.

I'm not surprised, just a little sad. Because I feel like the controversies every year over public creche displays, or saying Merry Christmas instead of Happy Holidays, and the commercial occupation of the season are both symptoms of the same problems.

Atheist, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist, Pagan, whatever way we choose to praise our God (or not), we have forgotten the importance of kindness, of a smile, of generosity. Because the truth that can be found in this season is not in the gifts or the food, or even just the time we are forced to spend with our families. It's about finding the light in the darkness of the season, the warmth in the cold, love in a world full of hatred.

be careful what you wish for...

I was chatting with my sister a few days ago, complaining about how I don't enough shifts at work to really make work feel worthwhile. Fast forward three days and I'm rushing to get this done so I can go to bed, having suddenly had two double shifts dropped in my lap. I'm not complaining, but it did occur to me that one ought to be more cautious about one's wishes.

To bed!

The following is an email sent to me by a friend. As we near the Christmas season, his words become more and more relevant to me. Calling a Christmas tree a "Holiday tree" makes about as much sense to me as calling a menorah a "Holiday candle holder" or a creche "a Rural Holiday Family Scene"

what may be the heart of the problem

Apparently the White House referred to Christmas Trees as Holiday Trees for the first time this year which prompted CBS presenter, Ben Stein, to present this piece which I would like to share with you. I think it applies just as much to many countries as it does to America ...

The following was written  by Ben Stein and recited by him on CBS Sunday  Morning  Commentary.

My confession:

I am a Jew, and every  single one of my ancestors was Jewish.  And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled  trees, Christmas trees.  I don't feel threatened.  I don't feel  discriminated against. That's what they are, Christmas trees.

It doesn't bother me a  bit when people say, 'Merry Christmas' to me.  I don't think they are  slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto.  In fact, I kind  of like it.  It shows that we are all brothers and sisters  celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that  there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach  house in Malibu .  If people want a creche, it's just as fine with me  as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.


I don't like getting  pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting  pushed around for being Christians.  I think people who believe in  God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period.  I have no  idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist  country.  I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it  being shoved down my throat.


Or maybe I can put it  another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship  celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God ?  I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too.  But  there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from  and where the America we knew went to.

In light of the many  jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little  different:  This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's  intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham's daughter  was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her 'How could  God let something like this happen?' (regarding Hurricane Katrina)..   Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response.  She  said, 'I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for  years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our  government and to get out of our lives.  And being the gentleman He  is, I believe He has calmly backed out.  How can we expect God to  give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us  alone?'

In light of recent  events... terrorists attack, school shootings, etc.  I think it  started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a  few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we  said OK.  Then someone said you better not read the Bible in  school.  The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal,  and love your neighbor as yourself.  And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock  said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their  little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem  (Dr.. Spock's son committed suicide).  We said an expert should know  what he's talking about.  And we said okay.

Now we're asking  ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right  from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their  classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think  about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out.  I think it has  a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.'

Funny how simple it is  for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to  hell.  Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question  what the Bible says.  Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail  and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages  regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.  Funny how  lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace,  but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and  workplace.

Are you laughing  yet?

Funny how when you  forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list  because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you  for sending it.

Funny how we can be more  worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of  us.

Pass it on if you think it has merit.

If not, then just discard  it.... no one will know you did.  But, if you discard this thought  process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is  in.

My Best Regards,   Honestly and respectfully,

Ben Stein

imagine!

"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you" -Matthew 7:7

Is this true?

I remember when, frustrated once again at my family's financial woes, I wrote a list of all the things I wanted. If I could just have these things, I knew I would be content. I eventually calmed down, but kept the list and taped it to my wall, thinking it couldn't hurt to keep it on my wall for when Christmas and birthday wish lists were needed. As I have always been one of simple taste, the list was one of simple things like two new tank tops and maybe a few new pairs of underwear and a new pair of jeans. A year later it occurred to me to reexamine this list, maybe even revise and update it. What I realized moved and changed me. Everything on that list was now in my possession, down to the brand of the boots I wanted. It began I period in my life when I realized the power of knowing what one wants at a level deeper than mere avarice or desire.

I was talking about this with a Methodist friend of mine, and he told me about the Methodist idea of confession, not in the Catholic way of reciting one's sins, but in the way of expressing one's desire, or gratitude, and the impact that can have, simply because it is said out loud.

Perhaps the what it really boils down to is understanding what it is we desire, what we want in life, in the next year or month, what we want right now. To me it's figuring out what we truly want that is the real challenge. Because once we pronounce it, God can take care of the rest.

a veteran's day bubble bath

I came home cranky: a migraine was carving a hole in my forehead and a table that put me to work for 3 hours at the restaurant only left me $20. Not happy.

I came home and was blessed by a call from my best friend. Cheered, I took off my clothes and sat on my bed in my underwear counting out my tips from this past week. My spirits raised further, but I was cold so I decided to take a shower...which turned quickly into a bath...a bubble bath!

Thoughts from my veteran's day bubble bath: hot! need more bubbles, hummus and crackers are not the most sexy bath food, wow knees are actually really buoyant, bubblesssssss...and so on and so forth.

My headache is nearly gone and a little soup will take care of the hunger. I've always groaned inwardly at quotes and things that just gush about how lucky we are! Probably because I'm not quite as grateful as I should be. But it's not as if I don't think I'm lucky, or that I shouldn't be grateful...I just don't feel that way most of the time.

And it's not quite that I felt lucky, or special, as I relaxed and swirled bubbles around. It was more that I thought, "this is niiice" and for once acknowledged the niceness of life, of being alive, despite migraines and $20 tips. Because even though I've always known that...in that moment I really believed it.

have you thanked a veteran today?

We should do this every day...but today has been set aside especially to honor those who served and let's not forget it.

From those who fought 70 years ago, to those who are overseas now, Thank you for your service. Your sacrifice is what allows all of us to live the lives we do. You are among the blessings showered on our country. May God bless you and your families.

Thank you.

They say that laughter is connected with longevity...I'd modify that just slightly by saying it's those who can experience joy and express it that will live the longest...

resist the temptation!

After working two hours mucking out my goats' shed yesterday I, unsurprisingly, got a blister. Not a bad one, but there definitely was a little, albeit, hard and small, bubble on my palm at the base of my middle finger. It itched. I scratched it. It itched some more. So I took my teeth and bit it, taking a piece of my skin away as I did so.

I truly regret my actions.

In ruining this natural protection for my wounds, in removing "God's band-aid" as my mother calls it, I have left myself open for possible infection and scarring. Plus, I have to keep cracking out the band-aids and ointment. Which is a hassle.

Still, it amused me that, upon rising this morning and wishing for a time machine, my purpose would not have been to reverse some world catastrophe or save lives, or even one life. I wanted to use it to unbite my blister and replace my band-aid for God's. It also occurred to me that, knowing self control is, for me, a challenge, all that probably would have happened anyway, just at a later time.

Time heals all wounds, I suppose, so give me the opportunity to whine about it and a few days and all of this will seem but a dream, trapped in times past.

Oh my, I'm going to be late for work, gotta run!

to rise, or not to rise...

The alarm woke me up at 8:00am, as it should; I set it for 8:00. I sat up, stopped its incessant noise, set the alarm and went back to sleep. I was reawakened at 9:00. My dog was peacefully sleeping at my feet. I sat up and lay my head on her back. When I woke up it was 9:05 and my back was freezing.

I could just lie back down, be warm...Nellie is so comfy too...

I languished in this state of indecision for ten minutes before hauling myself out of bed and into the bathroom. Even as I returned to my room I was so cold the temptation to climb back into my warm, soft, comfy bed was overwhelming. I gathered my strength and resisted it. Successfully, at least today. Once I was dressed I was fine, not sleepy, well rested, ready for a brand new day.

You might have groaned, outwardly or inwardly, when I told you my wake up time. Many, braver, souls in our great civilization wake up at much earlier hours, be it for jobs or school or, heaven forbid, exercise. I used to be one such person myself. For four years I was up and at'em by 6:00am every day, with a two hour commute to school ahead of me. Not pleasant, but obviously not impossible. Doesn't make waking up in the cold any easier now.

You, who woke up at 5:00am to go to your job, be well!
You, who woke up at 6:15 for school, learn a lot! But, come to think of it, don't go crazy...
You, who woke up at 5:30am to exercise...I have little to no sympathy; only awe.

procrastination

The backbone of the scholar's work ethic! The guilt, the indifference, the sheer blah that comes with procrastination! As I mentioned yesterday, TV has a way of pulling me in and without me even acknowledging it, three, four episodes go by, four long hours in which so many things could have been accomplished, have flown by.

Come home, eat, relax, college applications. This is the plan.

This has never happened, at least not on two consecutive days. Today I came home, relaxed, walked the dog...and ended spending the last hours of the working day helping my sister and mother prepare for a trip tomorrow and then watching TV...again.

It's not to say my afternoon wasn't productive. But the actual work I needed to get done went, well, undone.

It probably doesn't matter. After all, I'll have tomorrow evening too. But that's what I said yesterday!

it's time for bed, just get over it

Languishing on the couch after hours of television, streams of advertisements burying the actual program whine and whiz past my mind, barely registering at this point. 

A zebra takes a lipstick out of her purse and fixes her makeup while a crocodile lies in wait. The zebra goes into the water for a dip and get pulled under water by the hungry crocodile. A few still seconds pass and the zebra emerges victorious, a new crocodile handbag hanging in the crook of her elbow.

Wait, what? Did I just see that, like, with my eyes? It's when you can't even comprehend the stupidity, somehow justify it in your mind, or even properly ignore it that you know it's time for bed, or a good book, or human contact...or all of the above.

TV just sucks me in. I could blame it on the fact that the shows are so good but, really, who's going to buy that? I think it's a lack of personal motivation, to get up and actually do what needs to be done in the next hours before sleep. 

Speaking of sleep...'night!

a new beginning

I suppose abandoned blogging because I worried that the shreds and tatters that were my emotions that the time (*joke*) would end up bleeding through, making my blog into a public version of my journal, which is very, very, private. Also, I just stopped pretending I saw a point.

I charge into this second try, the "2.0" version, if you will, will seven months more of experience, hopefully a little perspective and another birthday under my belt. I'm hoping any one of these things will help. No holds barred, if that's the correct term of phrase in this case, no limits and as few cynical preconceptions as possible. I'm not going to try to be inspiring, or special, or even interesting. I just want to see what it's like to blog. That way, if I abandon it once again, (*joke*) I can at least have a formed and informed opinion on blogging.

If my bumbling is too sad or embarrassing to watch, just look away. As for me, I'm off!