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Alright, so I’ve been seriously slack in blogging. Forgive me. Although, to be fair, I haven’t heard any complaints. I’m starting to think your love is… well, nonexistent.
But, here’s the update on life.
Wednesday I talked to a Social Studies teacher and got a job shadow set up for next Friday. Yay. I also talked to  . He called Tuesday night.  has two more tumors on her spine, and will start chemo on Monday. Her birthday is next Friday. still doesn’t have a job. Less than yay.
I would write more, but  is coming to wisk me away (or whisk?) to Tanpopo for dinner. Yay!
 I am Gonorrhea. Love me. Which Horrible Affliction are you?
A Rum and Monkey disease.
And I quote:
Congratulations, you’re gonorrhea! Yeah, that’s right. You’re a sexually transmitted disease. And it gets worse: you’re curable. But fret not, my fine infectious friend; you have a fine array of symptoms associated with you that would make even rabies flinch….[gross description here] What’s more, you can be passed to babies as they’re being born, and cause them to go blind! That’s how cool you are!
- Material world:: Madonna
- Satin sheets:: slippery
- Blizzard: Dairy Queen
- Real estate:: mogul
- Dress up:: for what?
- Wesley:: Daddy
- Robber:: bank
- Saliva:: swap
- Slave:: drive
- Shift:: gears
It’s snowing snowing snowing! Not those big fat flakes (those are the best), but millions of tiny little white dots floating around, never seeming to land. Regardless of my feelings about winter (and winter activities), snow makes everything better. A new coat of snow is like a fresh start. Everything is white and peaceful and beautiful. My favorite is the inch or so that stacks up on all the branches of trees, and then going outside when its dark and the moon is out, and all is silent and still.
Huh. Who knew I could be so passionate about snow?
I finally got my film back from the lab – apparently it contained all fall and Christmas, including a trip to the Orchard, the Fall Senior High Retreat, Christmas, and the Snow Senior High Retreat. Hmmmm…. Digital camera should fix that problem, but…. you never know.
So, here are the pictures for our trip to the orchard (me, , and  ):
 Apple!
- Yoda:: yoga
- Mensa:: not for me
- Pink:: great first album
- Text message:: boooo
- Galactic:: starship
- Chicks:: eggs
- Quesadilla:: cheesy
- Backpack:: across Europe (sans…)
- Socket:: wrench
- Compromise:: adulthood
[undated - 4/22/????, probably 2001 or 2002]
I have found myself, to my dismay, living with regrets. I used to be OK with me, with my past and present despite all its blemishes. I realized that all of the horrible things that happened to me, all the experiences I never had, all the things I did but shouldn’t have, everything, made me who I am today. And I liked me. I knew where I was going, and occasionally I knew how to get there. But now, I find myself trapped in my own life. There is no escaping. There are things I wish I’d done, things I wish I hadn’t, and it just seems as if everything is going wrong. I don’t know if I even like me anymore, and that’s scary. It tempts me to follow it to the place that’s hard to leave, and hell while you’re there. I don’t want to go back. But how do I escape my current life? Or at least, how do I come to accept it? I don’t want to have regrets – I want to be open about all my blemishes. I want the knowledge of God’s plan for my life to be a comfort, and its not. I want to feel God’s outstretched arms wrap around me and draw me to Him. I want to feel His warmth, His security, His peace. I don’t. I feel emptiness, aloneness, despair. And I can’t seem to escape. They tie me down and don’t let me go. They hold me back from reaching out to my Father, who is the only Savior I will ever have. They hold me here, in my private hell, trapped with no chance of escaping. The light has become so dim; the hope is quickly fading. The promises I once clung to no longer bring me the joy they once did. What is wrong? How do I escape this torment? I am harboring anger, resentment, frustration, rejection, hurt, pain, deception, depression, and all this evil is oppressing me. I want to give it up, but find myself clinging to it. I just can’t let go! I desire for God to reach out and pry my fingers from my baggage, so He can take it far, far away. But He won’t do that. Its my job to let go. Let go. Let go. Let go. Let go. Let go.
Let God.
- What would you do if you felt the roads weren’t very safe and the town you live in didn’t cancel school? I’d probably stay home if I really couldn’t make it, but since I could take the bus almost anywhere, I would have reliable transportation that would be fairly safe.
- What kind of things do you remember doing on snow days? I don’t remember any snow days, although I’m sure we had them. Playing in the snow with
 was no fun, because it always ended with her crying as soon as a snowball hit her. She was such a crybaby (although, in her defense, she was younger and much smaller than me, so that could have had something to do with it). I know  had some games that we would play if we were stuck indoors, whether because someone was sick or whatever.
- Do you have to or did you have to take the day off when there was a snow day because you had to watch your children? If not then who watches or watched your children? No kids. As a kid, didn’t work until we were old enough to stay home alone, so no one had to take the day off work.
- As an adult, do you own snow pants or a snow suit so you can play with the kids in the snow? No, I don’t own snow pants or a snow suit, but that doesn’t mean I can’t play in the snow. I am currently without mittens, so that could impede the fun, but I could make my gloves work. I’m not much for being outside in the cold for long periods of time, so I’d probably give out before the kids would.
- How do you feel about snow? It’s pretty, and if it’s going to be cold, there better be snow on the ground. However, in general, cold things are bad (unless they’re frozen margaritas, or a Coke over ice). Why do I live in Minnesota, do you ask? Yeah, I know, I ask myself that nearly every day for the six months a year where there’s snow on the ground (except this year, where we’re 20 inches below our usual snowfall.)
Today’s Word of the Day
debacle (noun) [di·BAW·kahl, di·BAK·ahl, DEB·ah·kahl]
- a sudden and violent collapse
- a total failure; fiasco:
- flooding caused by a tumultuous breakup of ice in a river during the spring or summer
I pulled into Nashville, Tennessee
But you wouldn’t even come around to see me
And since your headin’ up
to Carolina
You know I’m gonna be right there behind you’Cause I always have
to steal my kisses from you
Always have to steal my kisses from you
Now I love to feel that warm southern rain
Just to hear it fall is the sweetest sounding thing
And to see it fall
on your simple country dress
It’s like heaven to me I must confess
‘Cause I always have to steal
my kisses from you
Always have to steal my kisses from you
Now I’ve
been hangin around you for days,
But when I lean in you just turn your head away
Oh no, you didn’t mean that
She said I love the way you think, but I hate the way you act
‘Cause I always have to steal my kisses from you
Always have to
steal my kisses from you
I know I haven’t written much lately. I’ve been… busy. Let me give a brief summary of the past two weeks.
- Spent New Year’s Day at and
 ‘s house. We exchanged gifts. I almost got stranded there – bad storm – but made it home safely.
- Work, work, work.
- Chaos surrounding senior high retreat last weekend – confusion in registration led to nearly having to rent a hotel, trying to find vehicles at last minute, etc.
- Stayed home sick Friday – slept until 12:45. That kinda killed the day, since we left for the retreat at 5:30. Contrary to popular belief, no one was injured on the ride up to camp, although I did, at times, divine (“stop screaming, turn around and put your seatbelt on before I have to pull this car over!”)
- Retreat was… long. While I don’t mind the cold all that much, or the snow, I realized that I really don’t like winter sports. At all. It just means cold feet and cold hands and cold everything else, and injuries while cold are really not fun.
- Lots of shopping.
- Yesterday was nearly a comedy of errors, except that it really wasn’t funny. I locked my keys inside my house, with my cell phone (which has the phone numbers for the roommates) and the papers I needed for a meeting at
 that night. Called house several times trying to catch someone, but no luck. Huge pile of laundry led to an outfit that was entirely too warm for the day. Since I was still locked out of my house after work, I couldn’t make the pie for the church meeting, so I had to buy one (of which no one actually ate, so its now at my house waiting to make me plump). Only one person showed up for my meeting (and she was allergic to chocolate, so the French Silk pie from Baker’s Square was not an option for her), and although we were very productive, it speaks volumes to the importance of a senior high youth program at our church.
- Left church, drove 10 minutes, realized I had forgotten the pie at the church, turned around and drove back because it was indeed one of those days where pie would be needed at the end.
- Finally got home around 9:30 with a headache (due to not having eaten all day) and being very grateful for roommates being home to answer the doorbell and let me in.
 ‘s main concern was the lack of food in her bowl, while  was slightly more loving, but only briefly.
- Today, not surprisingly, is much better, but that wasn’t really hard. I found my keys, remembered my cell phone, and shortly will leave for lunch. I will do laundry tonight and call
 as I told her I would on Sunday night, to discuss career changes (she works as a junior high band director – why haven’t I talked about this to her before? who knows).
See, you didn’t really want me sharing anything more than the bullets, did you? I thought so.
Now, if anyone can find me a cute bento box (with multiple tiers or at least sections) for under $40, that will make my day. Or… flowers. Or a cute guy showing up at work. But I’m not holding my breath. Just making it through will be a vast improvement.
After reading Saturday’s entry, I realized more I should articulate on why I’m leaving ministry.
I’m just no good at it.
Now, that’s not really true. I’m great at it. Just not when I have to do it full-time and get paid for it. Something about the full-time paid position aspect changes the nature of the beast. I was a great volunteer. I love spending time with the kids, building relationships, leading small groups, and teaching. And I can do the administrative stuff (fairly well, even, though I don’t necessarily enjoy it). It’s all the other stuff. The parents and the church politics and staff meetings and committee meetings and the incredible responsibility of it all that makes me a significantly less fun person (which then cuts into the relationship-building aspect, because, let’s face it, no teenager likes an adult who’s no fun).
So if I formally leave, and pursue this teaching thing, I can see how someday I could work in a high school (or potentially a junior high) and spend my days teaching (which I really enjoy the most out of all the ministry stuff), and volunteer at a church that I have chosen (and chosen not because they had an available job, but because I really do like the church and agree with it on a theological basis and enjoy the people and they have programs there I could be a part of and people my own age to be friends with). I can see that being much more fulfilling than being full-time in ministry.
And I think that’s a fairly educated decision. I’ve done the volunteer thing (5+ years, junior and senior high and both). I’ve done the full-time thing (2-ish years). I’ve done the part-time thing (2+ years). Granted, I haven’t done the teaching thing. That’s why I plan on exploring that before, say, spending thousands of dollars on a graduate degree.
I should really get on the phone. And fill out that application.
- Pistol:: gun
- Rick:: Saw
- Full circle:: comes about
- I wish:: for
- Frame:: of mind
- Adult:: swim
- Photography:: black & white
- Stew:: meat
- Cheat:: test
- Brad:: Judson
I think I can finally describe in words why I’m leaving formal ministry. Besides the obvious inadequacies I feel about my ability to do the job, that is. I get so annoyed with the kids’ behavior. Now, I know these will be the exact same kids that I’ll be teaching in the schools, but I’m pretty sure it won’t aggravate me nearly as much in that context. Shouting out inappropriately in class vs. during worship – no doubt which I have more problems with. Plus, the school system is so more… regulated, and there are consequences that are obvious and, to be frank, expected. Its just so… difficult, discipline-wise, in church ministry, especially if it comes down to actual punishments. Then its a question of good parenting and if its really important and your judgment is questioned and it’s just so d*** frustrating! I can’t handle it anymore. Youth retreats should not be the place where I realize why I don’t want to be in ministry anymore.
You’ve decided to go shopping in all of the little shops that line the downtown area of your town. As you come out of a store you see a woman getting into her car. As she gets into her car she drops her pocketbook. She then shuts the door and drives away. No one sees this pocketbook laying on the ground except you. What do you do? You open the pocketbook and there is a huge wad of 100′s and fifty dollar bills. Now what would you do? Be honest! Well, theoretically I should have been fast enough to at least catch her license plate. However, if this isn’t the case…. I would probably take it home with me and stare at it along time, before being wracked with guilt and bringing it to the police station. Also… perhaps it has her driver’s license in it, in which case I could just bring it to her. Hopefully, I’ll get a nice reward.
Today’s Word of the Day
boshbosh (bosh)
- noun, interjection Nonsense. [From Turkish bos (empty).]
- noun The lower sloping part of a blast furnace, between hearth and stack. [Apparently from German.]
Your on your way out the front door to go to work and you find a basket outside your door with a tiny baby in it. The baby looks healthy and happy and doesn’t seem to have been there very long. Pinned to the basket is a note asking you to please take care of this child and raise her/him as your own. You alert the authorities and after several weeks of trying to find the baby’s mother they ask if you want to keep the baby. What would you do? Could your lifestyle that you live now be able to handle a baby? Could you give the baby to the state knowing that the baby has no one in this world? Explain your position and what you would do! I was thinking of a similar situation (OK, not really) this morning when the Today Show reported that there are many children who have been orphaned by the tsunami, and my first thought was, “I’ll take one, or two….” Clearly not a rational thought, but still my first instinct.
As far as this baby on my front door….I would like to say I would definitely keep the baby. I’ve thought about adopting for a long time and have always preferred it over actually giving birth myself. My lifestyle would have to change – working two jobs would not be possible, I’d have to control my spending, and generally learn how to live for someone else and not for myself. My plans for attending school would be up in the air, also, since I’m not sure I could work full-time, pursue a Master’s degree, and be a mother. I think, however, that all of that wouldn’t compare to the rewards I would receive from having a child in my life. Would something like this happen, I am convinced it would be because God wanted me to have this experience and clearly had a plan in mind.
Today’s Word of the Day
chaparralchaparral (shap-uh-RAL, chap-) noun. A dense, often impenetrable, growth of shrubs and thorny bushes. [From Spanish chaparral, from chaparro (dwarf evergreen oak), from Basque txapar (thicket).]
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thankful
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