Celebrities and their mouths

Yes, yes, I ripped on Brangelina in an earlier post for what I feel is a self-important and slightly confused statement about marriage, but I'm here to defend the Celebrity Opinion. Who can you thank? The Dixie Chicks.
Our celebrity culture is brand-new, if you look at the big picture. A blip in world history. Not only is the degree of global communication we have brand-spanking new, but the concept of someone who is not a political or religious leader being famous is relatively novel, not to mention the in-depth exposure that celebrities get that is only about 40 years old. So I'm saying that we're still finding our way through this area.
I also think that people have the right to say pretty much whatever they want to say. I also have the right to ignore them. This is the beauty of the USA. And furthermore, I think that it is only fitting that someone with a great deal of public exposure and money stands up for what they believe in, even if I think they're loons for that belief.
Blech. This could be said better, but I'm tired, I'm multi-tasking, and this is my 4th post of the day. Accept it and get my point! You don't have to agree, but get it!

I'm not as think as you write I am. Oh, never mind, That doesn't work.

You, my friends, constantly tell me that I'm a good writer and that I should write more. You think that I have a novel sitting somewhere in the depths of my spleen, but I say, "Nay!"
You'll notice that, while prolific today, I have only posted 3 times this year. THREE! I just don't have that writer's POV in life. I read the blogs of others, even some people that I might say that I don't particularly like, and they either have great things to say or they are good at saying little things. Life strikes them from a certain angle and they are inspired to put fingertips to keyboard.
Perhaps I need to just practice more: sit at the computer and just frikkin' write something. But I don't want this to turn into my online diary where I have scads of boring posts surrounding the occasional gem. I'm not a funny writer, so I wait for depth to creep into my thoughts unawares, without also turning this into a Bible study or lecture.
What's a poseur in the blogosphere to do?

My profile lies

It lies, I tell you!! But I don't feel like changing it right now. What is false? That I have no friends in California. Now, don't get me wrong, I still don't have a BFF like M or R; heck, I still don't do anything social aside from walking with anyone besides Seth, but we're getting there.
This may come as a shock to you, as it did to me, but actually being social and putting myself in the line of other people has resulted in conversations and possible friendships. I know!! News to me, too. So, my advice to you is this: Go to church! And when you're there, talk to people! Sounds simple, but it sometimes isn't.

Ta-da! Grown-up Life!

I've realized within the past month or two that This is It. I'm in my life, I'm on my path- here we go! I guess that although I wouldn't have admitted it, I was looking around the corner and waiting for my life to show up. Waiting on something big, for school, for that Great Job, or for Significance to descend from on high.
What does this mean in a practical sense? One one hand it is a psychological/spritual revelation that gives me peace and joy. I don't have to feel useless or like I'm wasting time because I am living a life of service and learning, getting in on opportunities for both that God places in my path. On the other hand it is a spiritual/scheduling revolution because I need to put myself out there more, letting go of the vast quantity of Me Time I've learned to cherish and get used to being gone more, putting more hours in at my volunteer jobs, taking more classes at church, and realizing that all of this is good (and will only increase in the future). I am dying to myself a little more every day, and even when I hate it, I love it.
The other possibly big chunk of the picture is that I'm applying to seminary. I have finally gotten a car, and it didn't take long for me to realize that the door for school was now open. So I asked the proper people to write letters of recommendation, I visited the school, hammered out other various paperwork tasks, and all I really have left is to write my essays (religious autobiography and Why Fuller?), which I am currently avoiding by writing to you fine folks.
Obviously, I'll let you know how it all turns out. But please, PLEASE realize that I am not putting all my eggs in this basket. I don't expect to be rejected, and if I get in, I'm sure that the money will happen, but I also know that I don't have to go to seminary right now or at all in order to do what God has for me. That's why I keep plugging myself into various things at church and I keep learning. Something can grow from where you would never think.

My pedestrian life

No, I'm not talking about my walking- there is a lot of it, though. I'm talking about things that are stereotypical, run-of-the-mill, or just what everyone else does or expects. I'm talking about the fact that my husband is like my father.

For the most part, this isn't a bad thing. I love my dad; I love my husband. My dad is affectionate, hard-working, sacrificial, excellent at whatever he does, God-fearing, unconventionally smart, handsome, generally happy and easy to be around, and he will do anything for the people he loves- he'll even do quite a bit for people he only likes. My husband has all of these qualities to one degree or another. The more cloudy side? Moody, occasional lapses into irresponsibility, poor time-management, not too hot a history with finances, a bit much for people sometimes, and one thing I just realized yesterday- a joy for lecturing.

Now, believe me, if you know my dad, you know that no one has ANYTHING on his ability to lecture you on any number of topics about which he may or may not have some small amount of knowledge. You also probably know that my husband does not usually get this way, which I think is because he's not the type of guy who thinks that he knows more about something than you do, but I've noticed that once in a while, if he has more experience or knowledge about something that we are both interested in, he'll get into Teacher Mode. Yesterday it was about running and breathing, but I don't remember other specific topics.

The cool thing, though, is that I didn't mind. He rarely does it, and it wasn't condescending or anything, so I was happy to smile and listen. I actually gave him a little hug because I thought it was so cute. I didn't say anything to him, but I thought, "My daddy does that!"

"You don't know what you're missing out on!"

This is what all but 5 people on the planet have told me and my husband when they found out that we aren't going to have children. And they're right- I don't know. Because I'm not going to experience it. It's fairly cut and dried. You don't know what you're missing when you don't get your foot cut off, either.

I can make guesses or people can tell me things- I'll never look into the face of a baby that I made. I won't see what the combination of our genes would look like. Although I can snuggle with plenty of toddlers and have kids run and throw themselves into my arms when they see me, it will never be because I am the most important person in the world to them- their mom.

It is a choice that I made, and I'm fine with it. Parents crow about the meaning or purpose their life has been given, the scales that fell of their eyes, and other poetic images, but my life does have a purpose. I have meaning- kids would just give it a different meaning or add aspects to the purpose that aren't currently there. But so can other things. I'm the most important person in the world to my husband, which is pretty damn sweet.

So I'm 32. My biological clock surely runs on a different circuit than my brain and heart, and it's possible that my hormones are throwing up dreams and feelings as some last-ditch effort to preserve the species. I say to those hormones, "Calm down, dearies. There are 9 kids out their already with parts of your code in them (children of cousins and nephews). The line isn't dying out." Will I admit that pregnant dreams make me think and that, maybe, there is a hint of wistfulness in them? Yes, I will. There is a hint of wistfulness, but mostly there is a moment of confusion, followed by the firm thought of, "Nope. Still don't want kids." The only thing on earth that I'm more sure of than not wanting kids is my joy that I no longer watch ER.

The other likely possibility, one that I can't believe I didn't think of until a minute ago (so dense sometimes!), is that my pregnant dreams have to do with my life, my purpose, my dreams- I'm getting ready to give birth to something new. Now that is exciting!

Incarnation

Around Christmas, you hear many pastors and other people talking about the mystery of incarnation: isn't it amazing/unbelievable/mind-boggling/etc that God, the Creator of the Universe, lowered himself and became a human baby. They're dumbstruck that he would do such a thing for us- that he would put himself in such a position.

I guess I'm weird, but I don't find the concept all that strange. God made us and he loves us. We're made in his image, so it makes perfect sense to me that he would be one of us in every way- grow in a womb, born tiny and vulnerable, be a teenager, and live as a young man. We're his kids and his siblings (co-heirs with Jesus-Rom 8:17), so it is reasonable that he would look like us and hang with us for a while. (Let's not get into the anthropocentric statement I just made. I know that we look like Him.)

It's also not as if God left Heaven all undefended to come here like some comic book hero. It was what had to be done if we were to be with him, and it was done for us. For me. No- I don't suppose that I understand at all the magnitude of God's love for us nor the concept of giving up a child, but I have loved. I do love people so much that it hurts; that I can't imagine there being more; yet all the love that is in me is from God and is just the smallest shadow of His love.

So, yeah, I can fathom Jesus being a human and God at the same time. Of course, I have been raised so that this information is a part of me, and the events in question took place two thousand years ago, so it doesn't feel that strange. I suppose that it would have been quite whacked out for Mary and Joseph sometimes- knowing that the toddler with cheese on his face was their Savior and the Savior of the entire world. Trying to wrap you mind around that would be a bit odd.

I am very grateful that I have good examples of familial love, friendship, and marital love to give me glimpses and insight into God's love and character. I have always known that Jesus loves me and to Him I belong, and that is wondrous.

Updates, being social, reaching out.

First off- we're not moving to Phoenix. We may be moving a bit east of where we are now, but that's not for a few months. Hopefully Sonoma.

It looks like I'll be going to Mexico in April on a short mission trip to build a house, so that is wonderful. This will be the first of these kind of trips that I've been on since high school, which I find a little mind-boggling, but God doesn't appear to be that big on my travel ideas. Live and learn. I called the contact person today to see if there was a place for me, being that I'm not exactly a carpenter, and he was very happy to add another Spanish-speaker to the group. Their building techniques also appear to be girl-friendly, so I'll be able to do physical labor as well as talking with the family.

The world may be turning backwards on its axis or something, but we went out two nights in a row this past weekend. One night we even went to a party. I know! I can barely believe it, either. Friday we had a date night (dinner and a movie, of course) and Saturday we went to a lovely, grown-up, eat-and-mingle party with some church people. It was really great to talk, relax and be around people. I love my husband, but I really do like to see other people aside from him once in a while.

As sometimes happens when we're with his family for the weekend, I almost lost my voice at the party because my dear, sweet vocal chords are not used to being used quite so much. Makes me a little verklempt.

Have a Very Merry Christmas filled with food, hugging, presents, singing, and praising Jesus!

Humbug no more!

Finally, the Christmas spirit hit me today! I had actually been considering not decorating this year- no one comes to our house, it's too small, my husband doesn't really care, etc etc. Part of it was genuine disinterest, and another part of it was moping.

I've been listening to Christmas music for a while now- that wasn't the problem. And the music does well up emotion in me and I am so thankful for Jesus. We just don't have the room for our tree this year, and our house is so crowded and messy that I felt completely overwhelmed. Thankfully, I'm happy with little things here and there, so after a bit of cleaning was done (more to come), I got a small wreath and some garland from Michael's, and a little poinsettia from Trader Joe's that sits here on the computer desk to make me happy.

The thing that turned my frown upside down? Cinnamon-scented pinecones in the bathroom of Baskin Robbins. They struck me as such a simple yet Christmas-like thing to do, that I didn't feel so overwhelmed or downcast about decorating. So, yes, I have a bowl of those sitting on the desk as well, and I already feel as if I've made the place jollier.

Merry merry!

Sand and locusts

wash me away
every drip, scrap, scab
that remains of the old me- the one I hate
leave just you
the love, the shiny new growth
pink, painful, clean
to bloom. to flower. to reach out into
more of you-
and less of me.

I'm inspired by James Hetfield to finally write.

Yes! I finally downloaded some Metallica so that I can actually hear them once in a while, and I am very happy about it. You see, I really don't listen to the radio often, since I don't have a car, and you would not believe how difficult it is to just friggin' hear Metallica when I do happen to have the car. You would think that they weren't the biggest rock band in the world or something.

We had an excellent Thanksgiving weekend, with lots of loafing in front of fireplaces, watching movies with family, and the requisite eating, drinking, and being merry.

There, I put "Wherever I May Roam" on repeat so that the inspiration can continue...

Husband stubbed his toe on a turkey leg last night, so that is exciting. He also has been interviewed for a temporary transfer (1 year) to Phoenix, so we're waiting to hear about that. I'm not exactly doing cartwheels about living in the fastest-growing city in the country, but at least it's hot. I do think that I'll like being in the desert for a spell. We'll see what God has in store for us!

Okay, I just looked, and Phoenix is actually the 4th fastest, with San Antonio & Houston above and below. Hmmm...not sure what I think of that. On another list, it's 8th, so I'll just calm down.

I see your point. Wait. No, I don't.

I just finished the book To Hell with All That and I must say that I'm mostly flummoxed. The praise on the jacket, as well as the reviews (good and bad) on Amazon lead me to believe that other people actually got a coherent and controversial message out of this book, but I can't seem to figure out what the author actually thinks.

Perhaps that is the point, in a way, but I don't think it is worthy of a published book. Flanagan attempts to address the conflict that many women feel between wanting to work and feel accomplished and worthwhile outside the home and pining over starched sheets and Martha Stewart-inspired handicrafts. Obviously, Flanagan herself is conflicted- she extols the virtue of being a stay-at-home mom and her desire to get dinner made for her kids, but she has had nannies and a maid ever since she had children. Actually, there was a maid employed before the children, too, but she feels terrible and conflicted about this. But she was writing and felt good about it. But she wishes that her mother wouldn't have gone back to work when she was young. But her mom was happier once she went back to work. But, but, but...

WE GET IT!!! You're conflicted, women are conflicted- everyone is fighting over the right answer, but a flowing, articulate book clearly cannot come from this issue. At least not from this author. This would have made a lovely, short article in a magazine, but somehow this mess got approved and printed. For not the first time this year, I moan over the apparent lack of sober editors, and I guess over the state of the book world in general. The people who submitted their blurbs for the jacket clearly didn't read the book, and the reviewers all seem to have pulled one or two sentences out of thin air on which to base their opinions- something not so rare anymore.

Flanagan is called an "anti-feminist" and seems to ruffle quite a few feathers, but I say to those rabble-rousers, "How can you tell?!"

Quick Update on Father-in-law

It's not Alzheimer's, and it isn't progressive, whatever is in his brain. Praise the Lord!

Just like trash

Some would say that I like throwing my vote away. I guess that I always have done so, since my first election in 92. Not even half the precincts are in yet, but I looked at the results so far, and a whopping 4 of the candidates I voted for out of 13 appear to have a chance of winning a seat.

Also, I apparently have much different feelings about things than many Californians, and I also care more than I thought I did. While reading over the results on the "issues", I keep having outbursts like, "You're kidding!" and "What?!"

Well, it's good that I care. I'll check on the results more tomorrow.

So I'm hypocritical AND naive. Good to know.

I have nowhere NEAR the same feelings about Britney divorcing Cheesehead that I do about Nick&Jessica or Reese&Ryan. I guess that, like everyone else in the world, I've been judging Britney as trashy and stupid for a while now, and my first thoughts on her filing are, "Good riddance!" and "It's about time!"

This really isn't the way I should be thinking about people, or about their marriages. I do see a theme, though, in my thoughts. I seem to be all for women dumping husbands who are worthless jerks. Not to say that I don't think people can change- not at all. I hope to be changing every day. But I have the desire to change and put forth effort to do so.

But how do I know that Kevin Federline isn't a good father and isn't striving to grow as a human being? Perhaps he has a close walk with Jesus. I don't know. I mostly think he's an idiot because of the way he dresses. How shallow is that?

I'm not trying to sound high and mighty here. "Oh, we shan't judge the stars. They're people, too. I don't judge anyone." I just think that it's something I take note of, and need to work on.

Sometimes I'm Cantankerous with Luddite Tendencies

Glance at this article about sun exposure, please.
I very much respect Paula Begoun, and I heed her opinion on many things, but I just cannot get behind "sun avoidance" and the hype about the sun.

This is the luddite/head in the sand/whatever you want to call it comes in. I know that skin cancer is a real danger, and I know that tanning is bad for you, and I know that medical science has discovered all sorts of things that refute what everyone used to take as truth, but I get a little, anti-establishment, hippie streak that comes out sometimes.

I am well aware that "natural" does not equal "safe" or "good" all the time, but I find myself more and more leaning towards trusting God-made things instead of man-made things. I was reading about vegans the other day and thinking about what they would rather wear instead of leather or wool. Cotton and...polyester? Yes, I know, there are flax and hemp, but I'm talking jackets, shoes, etc. This may shock some who know that I would love to be a tree-hugging vegetarian, but I find it a bit shocking that people would wear something completely synthetic that won't break down or anything and comes from oil rather than wool or leather. And this is coming from someone who resists leather!! It's just something I'm thinking about.

And, no, chewing on willow bark isn't going to get rid of my headache as well as taking Tylenol is going to do, but maybe I think it's a better idea in the long run.

My original point? I can't get down with the anti-sun folks. I'm not completely stupid. I wear sunscreen sometimes, I don't spend hours outside in the sun, and I don't worship having a tan, but I need the sun. I am often crabby when I don't get a little direct sun on my face. I think that everyone looks better with a tan, and I think that it's suspicious to not ever want to be outside for long or recognize the importance of being in and enjoying nature.

It's raining, it's pouring.

I need a car.
I really have fun on my scooter sometimes, I do, but it just sucks in the rain. I've been wanting a car for a while, because actually taking anything with me on the scooter is a bit difficult. If I want to go to the park and walk when I'm out and about, I have to take a backpack and carry everything with me. This isn't all that conducive to building speed or really taking a good, long walk.

These are the material things I'm praying for right now: a car, a bigger place to live, a job (?). So, a job isn't "material", but it's a thing. And I'm praying about it. Join me, won't you?

Oh, and since I haven't posted it before, this is basically what my scooter looks like. But it's black with a tobacco-colored seat. Looks a bit more substantial than this one. Perhaps the black is just more imposing. (It's hard to be imposing, though, when you sound like a leaf-blower. Poor girl.)

New TV Lust!

As time marches on, and with it, the shows that I tune into change, new boys, new men, new eye candy end up parading their way in front of me. On a small scale, we have Chris Nuñez from Miami Ink, the old standby of Sawyer on Lost, and even the occasional Jack on Lost. The big guns, though, the ones that make me sigh just a little, are Jesse Spencer from House (in addition to Hugh Laurie himself, who has already been mentioned on this blog) and Henry Ian Cusick from Lost.

They are the ones who make me smile. Yes, I know that Jesse Spencer is a bit young, but he's blond, Australian, and his character on House used to be in the seminary. I mean, he's basically irresistible.

I guess I'm naive.

I don't know why, but I am surprised and saddened whenever I read of another Hollywood couple separating or divorcing. I'm actually disappointed for them, as if they were my friends. I stupidly keep waiting for one of them to surprise me and just be committed to each other and stick it out. I suppose that it is also childish on my part to think that the couples wherein at least one is a professing Christian should have a better likelihood of surviving. (Divorce rates are no different within the church than without, so it's a bit insane of me to think that way.)

As the rumors were flying, I really had a hard time believing that Nick & Jessica were going to divorce, and I stubbornly believed that they would work it out. (How? Spontaneous wisdom and maturity that has been completely non-existent in the past? That her ex-pastor dad would actually remember what he learned and back off or give wisdom? That her mother would grow a pair and remember who she was and what she taught her daughters?)

Even though I may be certifiable to expect wise actions to come from Mtv's Newlyweds, I did expect more from Reese & Ryan. I guess that they just struck me as smart and calm. I don't know. I know that I am not in their situation and that I have no idea what goes on in the lives of others, but that doesn't mean I'm not a little crestfallen. I would really love to see young people in Hollywood show some real character and difference from the rest of the world.

p.s. I guess that I'm also naive to think that I could actually use the correct punctuation on "naive" and that it would work correctly in the template. Oh well.

Pray

My father-in-law might have Alzheimer's. That just sucks.