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 You're Colombia! You do a lot of drugs, and these have kind of distorted your view of reality, to the point that everyone looks like an enemy. You keep trying to restore order over your schizophrenic world view, but you don’t even know which goal is your own and which is someone else’s. You’re pretty sure someone needs to be punished for all this, but who that is changes all the time. Things would be a lot better for you if you switched to coffee, or even to decaf, but all this money would be hard to give up.
Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid
 It's out! So pretty! For those of you reading who don’t get it, I lived in Michigan for about a year and a half, and while some crappy things happened there, it still holds a special place in my heart. Plus, my friend  lives there, as well as my aunt & uncle, who are pretty cool.
Could life be more complicated? This is what I get for making blanket statements. I rashly said this weekend that I wasn’t reformed in my theology. Well, guess what, that’s totally wrong! I spoke out of my butt, apparently. I AM a reformed theologian. Who knew? Wanna know why? Well, even if you don’t, you get to find out.
Here’s my simple explanation of reformed theology, based widely on this document [link removed].
The Bible – it’s a good thing. Use it. As the basis for everything. It’s authoritative, it’s true, it’s written by God.
God - He’s sovereign. As in, in control of everything. EVERYTHING. And over everything and above everything and generally the one in charge and BETTER than everything too. Sovereign = ruler, king. That’s the God of reformed faith.
Calvin - yeah, we like him. A lot. TULIP, all that, it’s good. We believe it. Yes, I’m a Calvinist. Always have been. I should finish reading the Five Points of Calvinism. Hmm. Where did I put that?
The World – yeah, go into it and DO something.
Surprisingly enough, I can’t really find anything specific about Jesus. I mean, He’s mentioned in TULIP, but… I’m looking for more. I’ll try to get back to this.
It’s snowing. Not a lot. But any snow is… snow.
Part of the concert involved special guest Jeremy Camp. I have enjoyed his “Stay” album since it came out, and have had a bit of a crush on him as well (which, as it turns out, wouldn’t work for a variety of reasons, including the fact that he just got married in December). I absolutely LOVE his music. There’s a song called “I Still Believe,” which is about life being crappy and still believing, still having faith. He told us that it was the first song he wrote after his wife’s death three years ago. If I’ve got my math and details right, he was 22 and they’d only been married a few months. Now he’s 25 (and remarried) – he’s my age. Then he sang the song. I had to try to keep myself from crying, it was so moving.
Also, after the concert I was standing by the Compassion booth, and an old co-worker came up to me. This was someone I’d worked with at the church I’d been fired from. She’s a super-sweet person – before I got fired she had me over for Easter with her parents, since I couldn’t go home and my family wasn’t coming up. Back in the fall I had been at a training session where (but not really, because they revamped their entire staffing structure at the church), and then shortly after that I found out that the associate pastor had left. I finally felt able to “release” the whole situation – I no longer check the website for updates, etc. Talking to this wonderful woman I found out that the senior pastor had recently left – he was the one who, essentially, fired me. I just don’t know what to do with that information. He and his family went back to California. Long ago I stopped thinking that I saw him on the street or heard his voice (although there was this one horrible temp job I had where someone down the hall had the same voice as he did and it grated on me every day and kinda put me on edge). Now it’s really over. I mean, he’s not dead or anything, but he’s definitely far far away. Yay.
Sorry if I sound like a horrible person, but what he did was awful, and I haven’t found a way to forgive him yet. While I’m glad things turned out how they did, because it obviously wasn’t a situation I wanted to be part of, and I never would have gotten to make the friends I have now or had the Arizona experience or anything else that has happened in the 2 years since, the experience itself is within the top 2 most horrible times I’ve ever lived through.
I need some lunch.
Listening to: Kenny Bristo and Bj Irmiter, “113” on the same CD
I got to go to a really awesome concert this weekend. I sponsor a child named Iriseth, who lives in Columbia, through Compassion International. Compassion emailed some of us a while back because they needed volunteers to work at their booth at a concert at the Xcel this weekend. I was free, so I decided why not. I figured I would get to listen to a bunch of cool music (if not see it, since I figured I’d be busy working the whole concert) and do something good with my time. I like Compassion. I joked all week that I was going to be “selling children” at the concert, but really, it’s a pretty serious thing. On the top of one of my piles was a little boy who was not even 4. I don’t know all of the criteria for how they select children, but what a sucky life, to start out so young, being in need of so much help. I gave him away first.
The cool thing was that I got to see most of the concert, since I ended up being a rover and not working at the table. It was a combination concert – the iWorship tour and the Adoration tour happened to come to the Twin Cities at the same time, so they joined up, which meant that everybody cut their gig in half, but you got, like, 4 times the concert. It started at 6:30 and didn’t get out until almost 11!
I had an awesome time. I stood in the back of the main level (not the floor, but the seats) right around door 117 (if any of you know where that is) and had a pretty good view the whole time (except when this one guy between me and the stage would stand up, but he didn’t do that much). What was great was that I really felt free to worship. In college, all of a sudden worship looked different than it had at my church growing up. We barely clapped for the little kids’ choir growing up, and all of a sudden, people were praising God with their whole bodies! It was strange and unnerving at first, but God gave me the gift of eyelids – seriously, He showed me I could worship quite well with my eyes closed, and then I wouldn’t be paying attention to anyone but me & Jesus. I had quite a few friends who were charismatic in their worship styles, and secretly longed to be able to express myself freely like they did, with hands lifted high, jumping about, whatever. I could never seem to escape myself (or thinking about others around me) though.
Since college, I’ve worked at quite a few churches, all of which have been conservative in their worship. It’s a struggle to get my current church to clap during a song to the beat. And when  & I go to The Rock where other people are worshiping freely, I feel overly-conscious about what she (and others) will think of me. It’s irrational, I know, but it’s always been that way. Well, this weekend I was alone. No one there knew me. And I finally felt able to praise God with all of me, hands lifted, dancing, voice. It was wonderful.
More later.
Listening to: Jeff Deyo & Rita Springer, “Bless the Lord” on Worship Leader’s Song Discovery, volume 43
Many, many things to think through about this weekend.
First things first. We painted! Here’s what we did:
 Living Room  Dining Room  My bedroom  A's bedroom Isn’t it pretty? OK, if you can’t tell, the blue and the yellow are the living/dining room. We’re thinking we’re going to do the entry-way in blue and the kitchen in yellow (it’s all really one room anyways). The taupe/khaki is ’s “cave” as it is now affectionately called, and the fluorescent lime green (it’s not that bad, really), is my room, which is only about a quarter done.
Listening to: The copier
 "I never realized until lately that women were supposed to be inferior." Way to go! Thinking of that, where is my bumper sticker? I ordered one two weeks ago that says, "Feminism is the radical notion that women are people."
Which Silver Screen Siren are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
That’s right, today is BEAUTIFUL!!!
 It is a Mocha Malt Frappuccino Day! That is, of course, until you’re reminded of things like AIDS by this email article [link removed]I got today.
Nonetheless, it is beautiful outside. We bought paint yesterday. I was so giddy at Ace that I could barely contain myself. We got home and taped and spackled, and then were so excited that we painted the blue wall. Pacifica, it is. It took about an hour (we decided not to use the rollers, but just to do it with brushes). This morning, decided that she was unable to attend work today. She is painting and sleeping. I am jealous, but not overwhelmingly so, because my shoulders will appreciate the break. Our ceilings may not be that high, but it’s still work.
 I am a Starbucks girl. In my heart, I love to frequent the little hole-in-the-wall coffee places, the ones that have special drinks or remember who you are and what you drink every time you come in. But my tastebuds love Starbucks. They’re particular. This, of course, puts me in a state of conflict. Make the tastebuds happy, or make the social-consciousness happy? So I switch back and forth. Today I’m a corporate sell-out, but there’s a yummy drink on my desk.
Listening to: Van Morisson, “Brown Eyed Girl” (which I am not)
Bridesmaid dress FINALLY ordered. Bride actually had bad dream about me not being able to be in the wedding because my dress hadn’t come in yet. We don’t want that – I mean, we don’t want the bride having nightmares. That’s no good.
These beautiful shoes that I am wearing were a mistake. will tell you that the shoes are hideous, but I disagree. They are charming. And they perfectly match my burgundy pants. They’re Hush Puppies, so one would think they’d be comfortable. But they’re not. I got them second-hand at a local store, and they had barely been worn. I know why. I’ve always known they were painful. Somehow I forgot this fact this morning, when I put them on before WALKING TO WORK. 3 miles in painful shoes. Blisters on feet (multiple, that’s right) before I even got to work. So, sadly, away they will go. They’re so painful I almost feel bad giving them to Goodwill – some poor person will find them and think they’re a great deal and go home and their feet will bleed from these shoes. Alas. On the plus side, it means I get to buy shoes soon.
Our landlord told us we can paint! Oh, the joy! We walked to Ace Hardware last night and picked out paint samples, and then finalized our decisions at home. My walls will be.. some sort of “Grass” color (not Prairie, but another….). ’s will be… Coconut or Caramel or some food that started with a C. And then the living/dining/everything room will be a beautiful yellow on 3 walls and blue on the fourth. I don’t remember their names. Very happy. My wallet situation took a down-turn this week, and is being so gracious as to allow me to pay her back when I get $$ next week.
This means our apartment/attic/living hole will look… NICE (read: not ghetto) when  comes up next weekend. I’m going to take that Friday off so I can install shelves in my room and the living room as well.
We saw a totally hot guy yesterday at the gym. Now, I’m going to repeat this, in case witnesses yesterday didn’t learn. When you are at the gym and fumbling with some piece of equipment, and said cute guy comes over and offers to show you how to use it, by all means, let him! Even if it just means watching in wonder as his muscles ripple and move. Even if the only words you can find are, “uh, sure” or nodding your head. Try to smile. Try not to drool. If you can be so bold, make eye contact. Establishing any sort of positive contact/interaction with any cute guy CAN NOT be bad. Even if you make a fool of yourself, which I’ve been known to do many a time (story coming up), hey, at least you got to be in the presence of gorgeous.
I am naturally a very shy person. And, quite frankly, if anyone I’m with is braver/bolder than I, I’m quite happy to remain quiet and aloof (which other people see as b*tchy). Conveniently, yesterday was not being her usual bold brazen confident self, and I got to be the one to talk to cute boy. Now he’s mine. I am formally claiming him. Unless, of course, he has a wife, or worships Satan, or turns out to be otherwise undesirable.
Lest anyone get the wrong opinion of me, last night events at the gym were rather out-of-character for me. When  & I would do open mic at the Coffee Grounds, there used to be this really good-looking guy who played a 12-string, and he was married, and he’d talk about his wife, and sometimes she was there, and sometimes she wasn’t. Once after we performed, he came over to us and gave us compliments, tried to encourage us, embolden us. I actually was unable to speak. He was that good looking.
And isn’t it a beautiful thing to be in the presence of someone that beautiful? God does great work! 
Listening to: Zen Voyages, “Amazon Rain Forest”
You’re The Poisonwood Bible!
by Barbara Kingsolver
Deeply rooted in a religious background, you have since become both isolated and schizophrenic. You were naively sure that your actions would help people, but of course they were resistant to your message and ultimately disaster ensued. Since you can see so many sides of the same issue, you are both wise beyond your years and tied to worthless perspectives. If you were a type of waffle, it would be Belgian.
Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.
A little freaky. But I liked this book. A lot.
graciously allowed me the privilege of being advice-giver yesterday. I absolutely adore being in this situation. It makes me feel… important, and gives meaning to my existence. I may sound melodramatic, but it’s true. Advice-giving, especially in the area of relationships, is one of the things I enjoy most in this world. It’s what I like about teenagers.
So, to any of you reading who are ever humble enough (or desperate enough, as the case may be) to allow me the privilege to be arrogant enough to give you advice, THANK YOU! You make my day!
but this local columnist pretty much sums up what I feel too. Yeah, I know, someone pro-Bush and in Minnesota. It’s a rarity. Anywho, if you’re a part of the VERY liberal left, you won’t want to read this, or follow the links. But it’s up to you. The Bleat
All locals should go shop at the Marshall Field’s in downtown St Paul. They just helped me out a whole lot, and I didn’t spend a penny! Unlike earlier, when I LIED (or assumed that the process would be easy and hence over quickly) about having ordered my bridesmaid’s dress for  ’s wedding, I am now finally actually able to do that. It’s this small matter of getting measurements. You can’t do it yourself. They yelled at me for that and wanted to order me a size 16. I wear a size 6 pants. Yeah. All the bridal shops in my neighborhood, sans una, close before I get off work. And the one that’s left, well, it’s very popular and I just didn’t want to mess with that madhouse for the “small” matter of getting my measurements taken, especially when I wasn’t ordering the dress through them (over the phone to a company in Illinois, actually). Well, today I resorted to begging and pleading, and found out that if you act helpless enough and smile pretty enough, a very short woman (she was not much taller than my naval) who is super-nice will come down from Alterations and take your measurements. She has saved me. I am about 3 weeks late in ordering this dress. Thankfully, at least all the dresses are different colors, so they weren’t waiting for my order to send all the others in (matching dye-lots and all).
Thanks once again, Field’s!
Listening to: Marvin Gaye, “How Sweet It Is” on the Millennium Soul Party CD borrowed from
Everyone is getting married. Apparently, I have missed some crucial memo or meeting or event where everyone hooked up. Maybe it was last week while I was sick (I am feeling much better now, thank you, just a head cold and a little cough). One of ’s college roommates called over the weekend to say she’s engaged. This led to a discussion of exactly how many single friends either of us have left. Very few was the consensus.
I have gotten obscene amounts of sleep lately. Saturday I was showered, dressed, and ready to leave the house by 5. PM. That’s ridiculous. However, those… three hours of life were very productive.
Hopefully will detail her weekend on her blog. I am quite frustrated (no, that’s not the word… disappointed isn’t right either, distraught? perhaps a bit melodramatic… we’ll just settle for “upset”) about the turn of events.
Senior high youth group last night was good, even though only one kid showed up. We had a good time talking with her, and a very… serene time spent journeying the “exodus” story. Complete with dark room and candles. And purple sand to throw in the candle. Hopefully I can get some good pictures of the finished product to show here – a 5 week project in-the-making.
My single (very, very single) self is signing off for now to go back to the world of work. Well, not really work, seeing as there’s no actual work to be done. But I will be in my cube. My large cube. Larger than it will be in the future.
Think big. It will be OK. Small is good. Really.
Listening to: “Rock Me All Night” by Liz Phair
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thankful
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