Today has been amazingly productive.
I woke up at 7:30 with no alarm. I figured I was done sleeping. I got up, and realized my new room was a bit disheveled. So, I cleaned it up. Then, I went upstairs and cleaned the bathroom of our old apartment, and got rid of everything else that was left up there. Done.
Cleaning that up motivated me to take out the recycling and garbage. Always a good thing. Then, I decided to continue reading in Matthew's Gospel. I've been enjoying the Sermon on the Mount one bit at a time, and I'm finding it both refreshing and challenging. From there I prayed for the college students at church, then made an MIA list for those I haven't seen in a while. Two of which I've already gotten ahold of. I also read and responded to emails regarding a friend's potential recording project coming up in the next few months, and checked out the progress on a current project of another friend.
Finally, I worked at my school schedule until it was hammered out as best as possible, which has needed attention for some time now.
All before noon.
Still to do: eat something.
I realized I was getting hungry at about 8:30, while I was cleaning the bathroom. The tiles were a little, um... gross. So, I scrubbed with the powdery cleaner stuff and with some sort of scrubbing device with a nice ergonomic handle in order to get all of the discoloration out of the grout.
It was then that I had this question:
Instead of working so hard at making products to help us clean the grout between the tiles of the shower, why don't they just make walls of showers that don't have little spaces to get dirty?
It seems so simple. How many other little things like that are normative for us, but we just don't realize that they're kind of dumb? Probably a lot.
Lunch at noon is probably not one of those things, so off I go to find something delicious.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Moving On? Out? In? Down?
Yes. All of those.
Today I moved much of my stuff out of my apartment, down two floors, into my new room.
And it's all a symbol of moving on. Many others in this building have moved. Moving into a new room gives me the feeling, as Rach said, that I don't see them because I moved, not because they moved. It's a nice way to avoid that abandonment feeling.
The only downside to this whole process was that I've been sick all day. It started at approximately 4pm yesterday, and picked up speed. By 10pm yesterday it had hit full on, and I've been coping all day. Moving and illness are a poor combo, let me tell you.
Thankfully, my wonderful neighbors helped us move stuff, and then invited the three of us roomies over for a home-cooked meal! That is what I love about this community. People just give.
The next few days will be used to finish removing the upstairs stuff, and re-moving it, as I did a year ago, to another room where it will be organized for, maybe 12 months, and then moved again.
I have lived in a different room every year for the past six.
What about you?
Today I moved much of my stuff out of my apartment, down two floors, into my new room.
And it's all a symbol of moving on. Many others in this building have moved. Moving into a new room gives me the feeling, as Rach said, that I don't see them because I moved, not because they moved. It's a nice way to avoid that abandonment feeling.
The only downside to this whole process was that I've been sick all day. It started at approximately 4pm yesterday, and picked up speed. By 10pm yesterday it had hit full on, and I've been coping all day. Moving and illness are a poor combo, let me tell you.
Thankfully, my wonderful neighbors helped us move stuff, and then invited the three of us roomies over for a home-cooked meal! That is what I love about this community. People just give.
The next few days will be used to finish removing the upstairs stuff, and re-moving it, as I did a year ago, to another room where it will be organized for, maybe 12 months, and then moved again.
I have lived in a different room every year for the past six.
What about you?
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Double Jeopardy
Tonight, both my life and my job may have been put in danger.
First, my life.
Since Katie is not feeling well I need to walk to work. The three minutes of sun, drizzle, breeze, or absolute darkness aren't so bad.
Unless there are coyotes.
Tonight I was taking my normal stroll, and up ahead of me on the path was, yes, a coyote. It was running, then it stopped, and stared straight in my direction as I was walking toward it. I am unsure of the likelihood that a coyote would attack a human in the suburbs, but I'd like to think it is high. Especially since I smelled like Mexican food, which coyotes love.
What could I do? I didn't want to try to walk toward it and hope it would ignore me, like I would to a goose. Nor did I want to walk away, for fear that the trip back into the overshadowed path would encourage it to try and eat me. So, I reached into the recesses of my past, and remembered the last experience I had with suburban coyotes.
That night, outside of my pastor's house, my friend Mary Beth (a native Arizonian) and I were outside and confronted by suburban coyotes, albeit at a distance. I freaked out, but not MB. She started stamping and clapping and yelling, "Ay ay ay ay!" (Read it more like a long "a" sound than a Mexican fiesta chant, which would likely have attracted the coyotes.) The wild beasts ran away, and we were safe.
So, I imitated my Arizonian amiga. I stamped my feet, and I clapped my hands. I didn't yell, though. I figured I'd save a little more gusto in case it started running at me and I needed to surprise it. And, you know what happened? It ran away. Instead of eating my face, it ran away. And I made it home safely.
Now, my job.
A dessert had been placed upon a tray, ready to be carried out to a table, when a small piece of said dessert fell off of the plate, and onto the tray. This small bite would obviously have been thrown away, so a coworker standing by eyed it, looked at me, and then eyed it again. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: "If you're gonna eat it, don't be sneaky about it. That justs looks suspicious. Just eat it."
Him: "You think so?"
"It's just gonna get thrown away. Whatever, man."
As he ate it, a manager saw him and totally called him out on it. Like, seriously.
Panic struck.
Later on, as I was leaving work, I told said manager the story, that it had fallen off the plate, and that I had peer pressured him into it. He wasn't just flippantly eating off of people's plates. In fact, he would never do such a thing. The response was that he could potentially have lost his job for that. I said it was probably more my peer pressure than him just eating food.
The response? It was something like, "Ok. Good night."
That did not sound promising.
First, my life.
Since Katie is not feeling well I need to walk to work. The three minutes of sun, drizzle, breeze, or absolute darkness aren't so bad.
Unless there are coyotes.
Tonight I was taking my normal stroll, and up ahead of me on the path was, yes, a coyote. It was running, then it stopped, and stared straight in my direction as I was walking toward it. I am unsure of the likelihood that a coyote would attack a human in the suburbs, but I'd like to think it is high. Especially since I smelled like Mexican food, which coyotes love.
What could I do? I didn't want to try to walk toward it and hope it would ignore me, like I would to a goose. Nor did I want to walk away, for fear that the trip back into the overshadowed path would encourage it to try and eat me. So, I reached into the recesses of my past, and remembered the last experience I had with suburban coyotes.
That night, outside of my pastor's house, my friend Mary Beth (a native Arizonian) and I were outside and confronted by suburban coyotes, albeit at a distance. I freaked out, but not MB. She started stamping and clapping and yelling, "Ay ay ay ay!" (Read it more like a long "a" sound than a Mexican fiesta chant, which would likely have attracted the coyotes.) The wild beasts ran away, and we were safe.
So, I imitated my Arizonian amiga. I stamped my feet, and I clapped my hands. I didn't yell, though. I figured I'd save a little more gusto in case it started running at me and I needed to surprise it. And, you know what happened? It ran away. Instead of eating my face, it ran away. And I made it home safely.
Now, my job.
A dessert had been placed upon a tray, ready to be carried out to a table, when a small piece of said dessert fell off of the plate, and onto the tray. This small bite would obviously have been thrown away, so a coworker standing by eyed it, looked at me, and then eyed it again. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: "If you're gonna eat it, don't be sneaky about it. That justs looks suspicious. Just eat it."
Him: "You think so?"
"It's just gonna get thrown away. Whatever, man."
As he ate it, a manager saw him and totally called him out on it. Like, seriously.
Panic struck.
Later on, as I was leaving work, I told said manager the story, that it had fallen off the plate, and that I had peer pressured him into it. He wasn't just flippantly eating off of people's plates. In fact, he would never do such a thing. The response was that he could potentially have lost his job for that. I said it was probably more my peer pressure than him just eating food.
The response? It was something like, "Ok. Good night."
That did not sound promising.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Katie's Down
If she were a Honda, I would say she broke on her own accord.
Katie Corolla is down for a bit. I was driving and heard something snaptacular in the engine. Like any dude would do, I pulled over and popped the hood, as if I knew what I should be looking for. The engine was still there, so I got back in and continued my 15 minute trip down the freeway.
When I arrived at my friend's house I again popped the hood, got on Google, and tried to figure out why (a) my battery light was on, and (b) why my power steering was out. Turned out it was because (c) my alternator belt had broken. That explained the snapping noise under the hood.
So, I stayed overnight and fixed the belt the next morning. I felt like such a dude. I can fix cars! That's something that automatically makes a guy feel especially manly.
Just as quickly as it was fixed, nay, even quicker, something else went wrong. The crankshaft pulley (aka wheel connected to the engine that makes all the belts go) fell off. Yeah, that's right. It just fell off. All the belts came loose.
Great.
One step forward, two steps back.
I can't fix that without the tools, so now I've got to have it towed to a shop. La-a-ame.
There are lessons to be learned here:
1. Anyone can fix cars. I mean, if I can, you can.
2. Always have a snack handy in case you get stuck somewhere.
3. No matter how good you feel about something, there's something else that will humble you right after.
Katie Corolla is down for a bit. I was driving and heard something snaptacular in the engine. Like any dude would do, I pulled over and popped the hood, as if I knew what I should be looking for. The engine was still there, so I got back in and continued my 15 minute trip down the freeway.
When I arrived at my friend's house I again popped the hood, got on Google, and tried to figure out why (a) my battery light was on, and (b) why my power steering was out. Turned out it was because (c) my alternator belt had broken. That explained the snapping noise under the hood.
So, I stayed overnight and fixed the belt the next morning. I felt like such a dude. I can fix cars! That's something that automatically makes a guy feel especially manly.
Just as quickly as it was fixed, nay, even quicker, something else went wrong. The crankshaft pulley (aka wheel connected to the engine that makes all the belts go) fell off. Yeah, that's right. It just fell off. All the belts came loose.
Great.
One step forward, two steps back.
I can't fix that without the tools, so now I've got to have it towed to a shop. La-a-ame.
There are lessons to be learned here:
1. Anyone can fix cars. I mean, if I can, you can.
2. Always have a snack handy in case you get stuck somewhere.
3. No matter how good you feel about something, there's something else that will humble you right after.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Windows Updates? Crap-tastic.
I seriously think that Windows updates its programs to fail.
Seriously.
Media Player used to work fine. Then I downloaded the "upgrade" after months of avoiding it, and now it sucks. Piece of poop.
I think they are intentionally crashing computers so we think they got "old." Then we'll go buy new ones.
Freakin jerks.
Seriously.
Media Player used to work fine. Then I downloaded the "upgrade" after months of avoiding it, and now it sucks. Piece of poop.
I think they are intentionally crashing computers so we think they got "old." Then we'll go buy new ones.
Freakin jerks.
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Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Let It Rock, Wilson Hall
I never thought I would be proud of Wilson Hall.
Check these.
First, three guys from Wilson Hall at Judson (my alma mater) make a silly video.
Then, some girls at Liberty University decide to one up them.
They obviously had no idea what kind of ridiculous ambition and tenacity Wilson has.
It leaves a bitter-sweet taste in my mouth. I lived in Wilson for a year, then became an RA in the "rival" dorm, Lindner. I always said the Wilson/Lindner rivalry was like the White Sox/Cubs one: Sox fans hate Cubs fans, and Cubs fans don't know there's another team in Chicago. Replace "Sox fans" with "Wilson", "Cubs fans" with "Lindner", and "Chicago" with "Judson", and you've pretty much got a feel of the situation.
It wouldn't have been so bad except that residents, student leaders, and RA's took it to a point that was more personal than it was spirited, and it actually hurt more than it helped. At least for me. I have a bitterness toward the hall, which is hard to get over.
Even still, if every college student at least had the opportunity to participate in something like this video (just one of the many exciting ventures WH residents may enjoy), I think they will have a more fulfilling college experience. And that, there, is the sweetness.
Check these.
First, three guys from Wilson Hall at Judson (my alma mater) make a silly video.
Then, some girls at Liberty University decide to one up them.
They obviously had no idea what kind of ridiculous ambition and tenacity Wilson has.
It leaves a bitter-sweet taste in my mouth. I lived in Wilson for a year, then became an RA in the "rival" dorm, Lindner. I always said the Wilson/Lindner rivalry was like the White Sox/Cubs one: Sox fans hate Cubs fans, and Cubs fans don't know there's another team in Chicago. Replace "Sox fans" with "Wilson", "Cubs fans" with "Lindner", and "Chicago" with "Judson", and you've pretty much got a feel of the situation.
It wouldn't have been so bad except that residents, student leaders, and RA's took it to a point that was more personal than it was spirited, and it actually hurt more than it helped. At least for me. I have a bitterness toward the hall, which is hard to get over.
Even still, if every college student at least had the opportunity to participate in something like this video (just one of the many exciting ventures WH residents may enjoy), I think they will have a more fulfilling college experience. And that, there, is the sweetness.
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Saturday, August 22, 2009
Leaving Florida
It's already gone.
Seriously, this has been one of the fastest weeks of my life. I can't believe I just spent 8 days across the country. I feel like two days ago I was getting my bearings driving around these sometimes familiar roads. Now I'm leaving.
I would tell you all about my trip and post pictures and all that, but I'm not one for typing about trips, nor did I take any pictures. (My camera decided it had had enough of this cruel existence.)
Briefly, though, I spent time with my family and lots of friends, played music, and was here for my nephew's 2nd birthday. Exciting!
Back to schedules, normalcy, and the familiar.
I only wish I could take my bed with me.
Seriously, this has been one of the fastest weeks of my life. I can't believe I just spent 8 days across the country. I feel like two days ago I was getting my bearings driving around these sometimes familiar roads. Now I'm leaving.
I would tell you all about my trip and post pictures and all that, but I'm not one for typing about trips, nor did I take any pictures. (My camera decided it had had enough of this cruel existence.)
Briefly, though, I spent time with my family and lots of friends, played music, and was here for my nephew's 2nd birthday. Exciting!
Back to schedules, normalcy, and the familiar.
I only wish I could take my bed with me.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Joy in Community
Today has been pretty great.
I spent some quality time with a great friend, and was able to bless and be blessed in the process. A little time, plus a little vulnerability, equals authentic relationships.
Before that happened, I had a hallmate randomly come over and give our apartment ice cream. Cookie dough ice cream! I was so happy. And now I am going to go eat some.
I love community.
I spent some quality time with a great friend, and was able to bless and be blessed in the process. A little time, plus a little vulnerability, equals authentic relationships.
Before that happened, I had a hallmate randomly come over and give our apartment ice cream. Cookie dough ice cream! I was so happy. And now I am going to go eat some.
I love community.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Reason: Men's Apprehension
I didn't have any confidence issues.
Before.
Saturday night after work I went with some friends to Antipasto, a bar/venue with a live band, Los Bandaleros, that was really fun. Being a Latin band, there were plenty of people on the dance floor. And for those of you who don't know, I like to dance.
So, being that the only girl I knew there was with her husband-to-be, I decided I would just ask any of the other girls on the floor to dance. In reality, I was a bit nervous about it. No one wants to be turned down, right? But I figured everyone was there to have a good time, so it should be no sweat.
First, there were two girls in front of me dancing together. Jen told me to ask one of them, to which I responded, "They're totally having fun together." She said, "Trust me, they're not," implying that girls really want to be asked to dance. So, I confidently asked if either wanted to dance, and they both said, "No, thanks."
Then, on a second attempt, another guy and I asked a different two girls, going with the wingman approach. This time, the girl I asked said, "Actually, she's my date." And they proceeded to ignore us.
Finally, a girl practically dancing on me was definitely interested, so I asked her to dance. She didn't say no! She actually just turned her head and danced away. Literally, danced away, with herself.
After that painful trio of turndowns, I still had the courage to use the wingman approach and ended up dancing with a pair of ladies. It was good times.
But, for the record, if any ladies out there wonder why guys don't just go up and ask girls to dance, talk, or whatever, read above.
Before.
Saturday night after work I went with some friends to Antipasto, a bar/venue with a live band, Los Bandaleros, that was really fun. Being a Latin band, there were plenty of people on the dance floor. And for those of you who don't know, I like to dance.
So, being that the only girl I knew there was with her husband-to-be, I decided I would just ask any of the other girls on the floor to dance. In reality, I was a bit nervous about it. No one wants to be turned down, right? But I figured everyone was there to have a good time, so it should be no sweat.
First, there were two girls in front of me dancing together. Jen told me to ask one of them, to which I responded, "They're totally having fun together." She said, "Trust me, they're not," implying that girls really want to be asked to dance. So, I confidently asked if either wanted to dance, and they both said, "No, thanks."
Then, on a second attempt, another guy and I asked a different two girls, going with the wingman approach. This time, the girl I asked said, "Actually, she's my date." And they proceeded to ignore us.
Finally, a girl practically dancing on me was definitely interested, so I asked her to dance. She didn't say no! She actually just turned her head and danced away. Literally, danced away, with herself.
After that painful trio of turndowns, I still had the courage to use the wingman approach and ended up dancing with a pair of ladies. It was good times.
But, for the record, if any ladies out there wonder why guys don't just go up and ask girls to dance, talk, or whatever, read above.
A Good Story
It's not mine, but you will enjoy it.
(I feel like I should have written, "... so you will enjoy it.")
(I feel like I should have written, "... so you will enjoy it.")
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