Bring on the Negotiator

I've decided to hold Phil hostage. There is no ransom. There is no scenario in which I will surrender him. I have no demands.

Ode to Jesse

My most fabulous assistant is moving on to greener pastures, these pastures are still owned by the bookstore, but they no longer report to me. He is the new online buyer, as Char is moving to be front store manager, and Philip is leaving entirely (he'll get his own ode, I'm just not ready).

Today was the last meeting in which Jesse took minutes. His minutes have brought laughter and tears, dare I say they have revolutionized the minute business.

Here is his goodbye as found in Minute Documentation, March 29, 2006:

Yes, yes. Everyone just hold back your tears. I know, I know. Come here, let me hold you. Hey, don't worry like that. I'll still be around. I'm not totally leaving. Besides, Alicia B. Good will be here. She's gonna do great. Now, now, don't say that. Everything's gonna be all right. I love you guys, and besides I'm just moving to the desk across the room. If you need some funny then let me know and I'll put together something extra special just for you. O.Kay, Okay, c'mon, let's get you to bed. Oh, now you don't need another glass of water. I'm just gonna be across the way. If there is anything you need just let me know. I'm extension 402 now. That's right 4..0..2. You'll remember it fine. Now don't worry, there's nothing to be afraid of. Remember last time when we took care of that monster in your closet. He can't bother you any more. And if any of his friends come around you just give me a call and well have 'em so scared none of them will ever come back. All right now, you comfy? Ok. Good night. God bless you and protect you. Sweet dreams baby. Sweet dreams.

Here lies Jesse's last minutes. May they rest in peace.

Two Girls in the World of Rock Stars

Yesterday Katie and I took one of our infrequent trips to Musicians Friend to buy music supplies for the bookstore. For the record this is one of our least favorite things to do. On our ride up and back I began to analyze why we hate doing this task.

I don't feel stupid very often. On occasion I will think "hey am I stupid?" but usually I can drum up sufficient evidence otherwise. I don't feel stupid going into auto parts stores or home depot. Thanks to my father, I am totally familiar with the layouts of both these types of stores. I also know the terms. I grew up knowing this stuff. Dual overhead cams? Yeah I know what that means. So as a girl I think I can do the "man" stores pretty well. I rarely feel stupid.

I noticed yesterday I feel stupid walking into the music store. First off I'm kind of dressed up and I'm walking into the world of very hairy, very intense musicians. We go with a list written out by one of musician cashiers. It is a totally different language; polyweb, nanoweb, gauges, polymers and don't even get me started on drum sticks; rubber tips and round tips and oval tips, ones with no tips at all, Manhattan, Phats, aliens... I mean it's total garble.

Katie and I are totally lost. As we begin to wander about the dulicmers and toms, and mandolins, and violins and bongos and cymbals, discomfort begins to overwhelm and the dreaded feeling appears, "I have no idea what I'm doing."

We look totally lost, so a very nice guy comes up and asks us if we need help. We nod vigorously and hand him the list. We ask him to double all the quantities because we don't want to come back anytime soon. While he's off gathering strings, we buy pretty much every drum stick they have and decide to just ignore all the different tips. So once again we find ourselves walking around arms full of drumsticks, getting more then one snicker from a passing rock star.

"Our guy" comes back after filling our huge order and asks, "what are you doing with this stuff?" This isn't the first time we've been asked this question. We have been mistaken for girlfriends of the "band". I'm sure we've been mistaken for roadies and fans and pretty much anything but female musicians, because, of course, we know nothing.

He hands us the box and we sigh, happy that this whole event is over. I can go back to my world, where I know things, where I understand the terms, where I can guide others into the world of contemplative authors, catholic saints, and Jewish resources. Just please don't ask me to tell you the difference between elixir super lights and elixir regular lights.

Officially Unprotected

Two nights ago I had a "come to Jesus moment".

When I moved into my house, there was an alarm system, it's a very nice sophisticated system tied into all doors, windows, and even a shed I have in my back yard. I should say that this is a very nice shed with electricity and a nice shed-like structure. I have only found it useful for storing bird seed. I'm just not a shed kind of girl.

At anyrate, first night we're in the house (Katie, Amanda, Myself) the alarm decides to randomly begin loudly beeping (not to be confused with going off which is an earsplitting siren). We all woke up and Katie and I began to randomly press buttons in hopes of turning this awful thing off. Amanda comes into the room and cutely asks "How do we turn it off?" Good question. And the answer was; that time (and many more times) I called my Dad.

So in last 9 months the alarm has randomly beeped and we have memorized the code. This beeping had gradually increased. So two nights a go after getting up several times to turn it off, I called my Father at 5AM and I told him I was going to take a bat to the entire system. After talking me off the ledge, he made a few calls and begged a lady to just tell us how to dismantle this once sophisticated, but now retarded system.

A screwdriver and several determined yanks later, the alarm died and peaceful death.
Seeing as the system was never, under my ownership, hooked up to the Police or the Fire department, I am in fact no less safe, just less annoyed. I think we can all agree that makes a safer world for everyone.

4 Things I'm Thankful For

1) British Hamsters running Endis (all hail Britannia)
2) The Fray
3) Heidi Stiegh (RMS Sensei - all hail Canada)
4) Tea Au Lait (made by Nick, Ryan, or Mesa)

Three Things I'm Thankful For

1) Loose Park (the rose garden)
2) My iPOD
3) Imogen Heap

Combine those three together and it's like happiness in a bottle.

Real Ways to Beat the Plague

A few days a go I wrote about my vitamin euphoria, it didn't work. So I went to a real doctor. Before I tell you that, I should fill in some details.

Growing up I was sick a lot. Who knows why? I just remember taking antibiotics constantly. In fact my family should be on a poster for why over medicating could cause a super virus.

My mother already had us diagnosed before we hit the reception area. She would inspect our throats with my father's mag light. We would roll our eyes and one again remind her that she didn't have a medical degree. It didn't get better as we got older. She became more insistent. She would tell the doctor before he unsheathed his stethoscope what we had and what he should prescribe, how many days and how many milligrams included. She would also ask that he check that little refill box.

"Ceftin, ten days, five hundred milligrams, don't forget the refill, just in case"

"Levaquin, seven days, five hundred milligrams, remember the refill box, just in case"

"Augmenten? Absolutely not, that gives Kristen stomach aches and she has to eat, which she refuses to do, Ceftin is what we normally get."

"Baxin? Under no circumstances, she gets a metallic taste in her mouth and it isn't that effective. How about Levaquin?"

I, now, must skip past the mansy pansy stuff and right to ceftin. I have become immune to everything else.

Sometimes she wouldn't even take us she'd simply call in to the doctor and insist a prescription without an actual visit.

My mother is a pediatrician's nightmare, or well she's a medical community nightmare.

All that to say I became so miserable and was developing intense pain in my ear. I hustled off to a good Jewish doctor at Menorah Medical center. I am now fully medicated, but still feel like I'm in an airplane making it's final approach to the landing. And don't ask me to reach for anything on the ground; the change in "altitude" makes me scream like a crazy person.

Will the Knotter please stand up?

So I bought these two mildly nice inexpensive channile blankets the other day to go with a new slipcover I got for a love seat I own. I've been on the decorating bandwagon lately.

I purchased curtains, window scarves, and all sorts of stuff to hang on the wall. I'm trying to make my place more like a home and less like a flop house. It looks really great by the way and the wallpaper removal and painting has been a huge help.

So last night I was sitting in Tyrone (the recliner) and I asked Charleen to hand me a throw to ward off the evening chill. As I spread the blanket, I noticed that on one side of the blanket the fringe was clumped together. Odd, I thought. I inspected it, and to my horror someone had gone to great lengths and had intricately knotted up all the fringe in a frenchbraid of sorts, but not a neat braid but a sort of matted dreaded disaster. I asked Charleen to look at the other throw and sure enough that one had also been knotted.

So frustrating, and at that particular moment I did not think this was funny I was aghast that this had happened. I think I actually asked Char in a pitiful voice, "Why would someone do this to me?" Obviously it had been a long day.

I began calling my friends and asking if they had gotten any boy scout badges in knotting. Needless to say no one knew what I was talking about. We spent of the rest of the evening un-knotting, so ultimately no major harm done, other then my hand sometimes curls up into this claw like cramp.

Okay, so my dear blogging community, I am entrusting this mystery to you. Can you help me find the knotter amongst us? Perhaps we will together discover the motivation behind such heinous crimes against decorating.

Will the knotter please stand up?

Ways to beat the plague

I'm slowly but surely overcoming a cold that has haunted me since onething. In the midst of sickness I have found the following things that are helping me to beat this nasty plague.

Airborne.



This stuff is brilliant it has like 1000% your daily value of everything. Start taking it the minute you feel ill or if you are going to be in a closed air environment (such as a classroom with constantly ill children).

Gummi Bear Vitamins




I'm a bad pill taker. I can swallow them just find, it's remembering to take them that's a huge problem for me. It's sort of a big deal because I suffer from bone loss... I know I'm 23. It confuses me too. At any rate these vitamins are awesome. No water necessary, and I have motivation to it, because they are so gummi. I don't know but it works for me. When I was buying them at CVS the other day the checkout woman asked if my kids enjoyed them. I smirked and told them they were for myself. She looked at me like I was an idiot.

Re - Runs of this show



It this highly entertaining show about these four guys who run this tattoo shop on Miami Beach. One of the co-owners is super good looking and Jewish and a former member of the IDF. He's perfect for me.

With the help of these things (along with nose spray and cough drops) I will be better in no time I'm sure. Until then I promise not to cough on you.

Writer's Block

I've been trying to write all night in my journal. I thought I'd just write some prose or poetry or something because I feel that bursty feeling, like there is something I'm supposed to be putting out there, but I'm just not hitting on anything.

I keep hearing one of my favorite poems. It is so well put, it makes me think if everything poetic has already been said.

Here's the one line that keeps bouncing around my cerebrum

The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction
the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.

What I'm about to say isn't what the writer was thinking exactly (or even nearly), but he's hitting on a theme in the human heart.

The weight we carry is love. He's perfectly spoken here. There's a great meter, and a great image. I feel this weight, it lies under the burden of my everyday life, there is a weight in loving people, in wanting to love people well. There is a weight in the hearts of men to be loved and to love deeply. It is God calling out to us.

Dislocations and Vending Machines

So I’m taking a break from a class (a sort of inner healing thing) on Monday night in the Desert Stream facility (aka annex, aka old FSM building, aka first prayer room). At break I needed a serious sugar fix. So off I go to the vending machine in the hallway.

I’m staring intently at the rows of chocolate and chips, wondering which snack would bring me true joy. Amidst the rows of snack items was a booklet they handed out to us a few weeks ago; untitled “Emotional Dependency.” A picture is worth a thousand words… so here it is.


I love camera phones.

Speaking of feeling needy, I dislocated my shoulder later that night and got it back in by myself (all the while nearly puking). It wasn’t out of socket longer the 10 seconds, but it is one of the most painful things you can do to yourself. So later this week I was walking around with it in a sling, which is just embarrassing, because you have to explain all day long how it happened, what it feels like, and how desperate and needy you are. It just made me feel pitiful: pitiful and nauseous, because after explaining several times I began to feel really sick.

So home I went to sleep for awhile and then dearest Rachel and I went out and did some retail therapy at Nebraska Furniture Mart, which is like a small country and should have a flag and national anthem of their own. But I bought real adult furniture, so check, I’m becoming old. I felt old, walking around with a stupid injury checking out wood grains and micro fibers, end tables, a lamp styles. Our salesman talked this whole time about his lifelong struggle with his belief in Jesus Christ.

Odd, I’m finding life to be very odd these days.

A new holiday

Charleen has just declared today to be International After Midnight Day. We have this rule around here that anything said after midnight cannot be held against you or ever mentioned at anytime of the day before midnight. It's sort of a catch all.

So today it's like it's after midnight all day long, nothing said today can be held against you, at least around here, but you have to take what you can get. As soon as I got Char's email I called her and told her something I wasn't going to tell her, because I didn't want to be judged. I feel so much more free now.

So be gentle today, but speak your mind, be honest with people, love each other extravagantly.

Tomorrow we can go back to our restrained selves. Today let's live with our hearts on our sleeves.

Fasting Fun

It's fasting day here in Kansas City, and for all you die hard fasters I just wanted to plug a new place I found(It's on 135th into the Kansas side). Robeks. I've been going there because I have a nasty cold (or as some call it - the onething plague - thank you Kathy). They serve these delicious smoothies and inject them with all sorts of nutritional non-sense.

But more importantly they taste great, and they make me feel great, and I feel no guilt, I feel only the genuine satisfaction of feeding my body something it is probably craving, such as vitamins.

Fast on...

Sickle and Scythe

I’ve been having a discussion with my roommates recently about the idea that we reap what we sow. I say “idea” like I heard this on Oprah. Galatians 6:7 says, “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.”

It makes me think of how I have mistreated people, and how people have in turn mistreated me. We all have had that moment of realization in the midst of being mistreated, “oh crap, I’ve done this to someone else.”

We get back what we put out their. If we are sowing into anger and bitterness, that’s what we get back. We give birth to the type of people we have become. We ultimately bear fruit of the type of tree we are (for the record if I could be a fruit tree I’d bear pomegranates).

Galatians goes on to say that we should be good to all people, for in time we will all reap a harvest.

This has been bouncing in my head all morning… there by I’m deeming it thought of the day.

We reap what we sow.

I've created a monster

My parents are pretty cool people. In my life my friends have gradually all become friends with my parents, some of them have come to realize that in fact my parents are cooler than me. They came over just to hang out with my parents. I've come to terms with the fact I have mildly cool parents. It's mostly about their past and the drugs and the rock and roll. I've grown to appreciate these things. Some of them, such as the music, have become a part of my life. Other things, such as the drugs, never really caught on with me, if anything doing drugs wasn't cool, cause hey my parents used to do them.

Okay so anyway, for Christmas we gave my dad an iPOD, which is a great gift for his music album loving self.

I first became concerned when my mother told me that she found his brand new iPod headphones in my Dad's morning coffee. Disturbing by itself, I realize, but next my mother poses this question to my brother (the tech head) "is this some new way to charge something?" She wasn't kidding. She's just crazy sometimes. My brother nearly peed his pants he laughed so hard.

My second concern was when I called my father up and asked how it was going his reply was "I'm iPODing it." Hmmmmmm. Wow.

Third concern, whenever we are trying to tell my dad he is too old for something he claims with great pride, "I have an iPOD."

Fourth concern, call my parents on Valentine's day, my mother screeches, "You father gave me a nano?" She said nano like a question because she wasn't sure how to pronounce it. Oh goodie.

And now when I call my parents my dad says, "We're iPODing it."

I (heart) Julian and Trinity

Today was a great day, not just because I handed Hello Kitty valentines to everyone in the office, although that was great. It wasn't the fact that I ate D'Bronx pizza for lunch although that was really great too.

But I babysat for the cutest kids ever tonight. I've had them in my two year old class for the last year (yes that's right their twins). I never really babysat when I was younger, I just wasn't really into it. But ever since Katie got me started teaching the two-year old class, I just can't wait to be with these kids every week. I was so excited when they asked me to watch their kids, I was probably a bit enthusiastic.

It was a really good way to spend Valentine's Day, I really do love these kids, all of my kids, not just Trinity and Julian.

So Happy Valentine's Day all, I hope everyone spent it with people they love.

HEADLIGHTS!!!

Last weekend I went on a spontaneous road trip to St Louis. I was sitting in the Prayer Room last Friday minding my own business when Matthias and James (Jesse's brother - Jesse is my administrative assistant and fiancee to my roommate Char, who also works with me)came prancing down the aisle, as they came back up the aisle James petted my head and Matthias leaned down and asked me if I wanted to go to St Louis.

I instinctively said, "uh no." But then I thought, what am I doing in the next 18 hours? Why couldn't I go? I couldn't think of any reasonable excuse. So I quickly changed my mind and an hour later (12AM) we were headed to St Louis. James and I were the primary drivers on the trip, as Amanda had class the next day and Matthias swears he will never ever drive in his lifetime (we did teach him how to pump gas at the 7eleven).

Upon arriving in St Louis we snuck in James' house like the true ninjas we are (in reality I giggled the whole time because I'm bad at sneaking things, my automatic fear response is laughter, I can't help it) to surprise James' brother John B. Amanda had the video camera all ready, she turned to his bed with the green night vision light only to discover John B was on a church retreat. That was much ado about nothing. We snuck back out of the house without ever being noticed. From here we went on to pick up James' girlfriend, and then on to the arch.

It is at this point at about 4:30 AM we become a bit lost trying to find a parking spot, somehow we ended up on a highway heading into Illinois (all hail). We flipped a U-turn and James comes to screeching halt and runs out of the car and lays himself flat on the pavement right on the white dotted line, we all laugh and proceed to follow him. Just as my head lays down, James yells headlights and we all scream and jump up and soar back to car, I screamed twice more in the car just for dramatic effect.

There was no parking anywhere near the arch at 4:30 in the morning, so in yet another daring move, James parks the car right in the middle of the street right next the Arch. So out we run up a very steep hill and to the arch, where once again we lay flat on the ground staring up at the arch. It was way cooler then I thought it was going to be. It sort of shimmered in the spotlights and it was huge.

We had only a few minutes as we were illegally parked, so we ran back to the car climbed in and set off to find a steak and shake.

Two steak and shakes later we were back on the road by 7AM, it was at this point that the two boys bet me that I couldn't stay awake the whole ride back. I bet them I could and that neither one of them would make it. They were bold in their trash talk. But what they didn't know is that I have been on roadtrips with both of their brothers. Experience has taught me that neither the brysons nor the wells' do very well on low sleep in cars.

So about 15 minutes in Matthias dropped out and slept the whole way with his mouth open. Two and half hours in James pulled his cap over his eyes and drifted off. Admittedly I was starting to drop off, so in went the Killers and down went the windows and we made it back without incident; I, obviously, winning over the two boys who clearly needed their beauty rest.

Just around the corner

I've had a rough week. Work has been crazy and it's conference week. It seems this week every step forward comes just before four steps back. It's a bit discouraging.

But here's the weird thing, I've had this sense something good is about to happen to me; like something is just around the corner.

It also makes me think that the Lord has really blessed me in the last two or three weeks, he has really given me a peace about all the difficult things that have come my way. I mean sure, I'm still a basket case, but there are days like this last Monday, when he just swoops in and kisses me.

It's hard to describe without going into a dear diary moment, which I'll spare you. I don't know, maybe God is blessing me with my freedom. Freedom from the fear of what people think, freedom from my own expectations, freedom from lies I have told myself my whole life.

Maybe this is a gift for really facing my stuff, for really digging deep these last seven months. Maybe this isn't even a gift, maybe it's just a part of the continual goodness of God in my life.

Alright I've got to sign off, Annyoung is playing with the turkey baster again.

Matthias, what a lovely mullet you have!

Halftime show gone awry

I’ll admit, I watched .00001% of the superbowl. I’m redoing parts of my house and I was in the midst of tearing down vinyl wallpaper. I hate wallpaper, but more then I hate wallpaper I hate wallpaper paste. The chemicals you have to use are caustic and they drip everywhere, and Annyoung apparently thinks they are delicious.

So at any rate, I turned my head long enough to catch the halftime show, with a 60 year old man prancing about a gigantic tongue; his arm skin flapping in the wind whilst his boney hips bounced around in skin tight pants. Vulgar doesn’t even begin to describe what occurred.

I really think the Rolling Stones need to be banned. They had they’re day in the sun, they played some good music, I like a handful of songs. But they’ve gone too far. They are no longer what they used to be, they are sad wrinkled version of what they once were. Maybe that’s what depresses me, It just makes me sad seeing them play the same songs they’ve played for a trillion decades. What would it be like to be known forever for something you did 40 years a go when you were so strung out you can’t even really remember how it happened? I’m sorry, but that’s sad.

Maybe I never really liked them that much to begin with, maybe that’s why this seems particularly vulgar.

I’m calling for an end, let’s ban together and buy a greatest hits album and shut the door on this fascination with this old rock star