I am a creature of habit. Every morning I do exactly the same thing. I roll into the IHOP parking lot at 8:45. I park in the same row on the same side. I then head into the coffee shop and grab the same drink, tea au lait, vanilla almond, two tablespoons of honey, soy milk. There is rarely a deviation in this plan.
This morning however, the world turned itself upside down. First, I couldn't park where I normally would. The parking lot is being repaved. So I parked in Herrenhut and walked over to work.
So I'm in the coffee shop ordering my beverage, or rather nodding that I would like my usual. I'm just looking around, and I notice a sign announcing the arrival of a breakfast bagel. No joke. This morning I was the first to order and consume a Higher Grounds breakfast bagel. I had ham, cheese, and eggs! But there were so many options! The price is totally comparable to any fast food breakfast sandwich, but it wasn't greasy or heavy. In short, I feel invigorated after eating it.
Excellent work, Dennis and team. I applaud this new menu item!
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Friday, May 26, 2006
Coming Out of Gray - I (heart) Augustine
I'm reading this book, "The Story of Christianity." It's big and I'm just reading the parts that interest me (the more I read, the more I find interesting). I've had some questions lately about the cannonization of the Bible and the council of Nicea. So I thought I should read some historical accounts just so that I could have a more accurate view of motivations and the "players" in these dramas.
So at any rate I'd just finished some great sections on Gnosticism and the Arian Controversy when I stumbled over a section on Augustine. I read it and enjoyed it thoroughly. He was a man well acquainted with his position before God. He understood the depth of his depravity, he knew his inadequacy. He lived as a man who knew forgiveness and the grace that is offered on the cross.
He says, "When I thought of devoting myself entirely to God...It was I that wished to do it, and I that wished not to do it. It was I. And since I neither completely wished nor completely refused, I fought against myself and tore myself to pieces."
This rings so true to me. It's something that I have been working on. Someone told me over a year ago that I was "gray". They told me I have a difficult time telling between right and wrong, they told me I saw a lot of gray areas in life.
I was a little miffed upon hearing this. I prided myself on being a good person, I always obeyed! But I found myself nodding in agreement at this observation. When push came to shove I often had difficulty in saying that there was a right and wrong. Generally not with large doctrines, but with small ones. There are a lot of reasons for this I think, primarily, I was taught to think rigorously and challenge ideas. I was told quite often to fight for the liberal position. I was often the devil's advocate, mostly because I had the ability to separate my beliefs from any position I had to argue. I spent a lot of time researching and defending positions I didn't really believe in. When the debate was over, often my teachers would ask, "Do you believe any of what you just said?" Most often I would just shrug and say, "Not a word." This is one of the things I love the most about my upbringing, but it has also left me with a lot of gray.
I lived (and continue to some extent) in a struggle, not fully wanting to embrace the "right" road. Something deep inside goes "but what about..." By doing this I found myself in conflict. I was tearing myself apart. In the last year I have made concerted efforts to flee the "gray" in my life. I have said "no" to a lot of things previously classified as "gray", in this process I have found a greater peace or calm. Mike would maybe call these "gray" things the little foxes. I'm trying to chase away the little things that steal my passion, zeal, and love. These little things can make my heart so dull. Obviously, I still struggle. But I feel more settled.
I've always liked Augustine. I mean his theology was crucial to the early church and that's great, but I like his words, his sorrow over his sin, over his life. I love that he asks questions, I love that he searched hard and he found God.
So at any rate I'd just finished some great sections on Gnosticism and the Arian Controversy when I stumbled over a section on Augustine. I read it and enjoyed it thoroughly. He was a man well acquainted with his position before God. He understood the depth of his depravity, he knew his inadequacy. He lived as a man who knew forgiveness and the grace that is offered on the cross.
He says, "When I thought of devoting myself entirely to God...It was I that wished to do it, and I that wished not to do it. It was I. And since I neither completely wished nor completely refused, I fought against myself and tore myself to pieces."
This rings so true to me. It's something that I have been working on. Someone told me over a year ago that I was "gray". They told me I have a difficult time telling between right and wrong, they told me I saw a lot of gray areas in life.
I was a little miffed upon hearing this. I prided myself on being a good person, I always obeyed! But I found myself nodding in agreement at this observation. When push came to shove I often had difficulty in saying that there was a right and wrong. Generally not with large doctrines, but with small ones. There are a lot of reasons for this I think, primarily, I was taught to think rigorously and challenge ideas. I was told quite often to fight for the liberal position. I was often the devil's advocate, mostly because I had the ability to separate my beliefs from any position I had to argue. I spent a lot of time researching and defending positions I didn't really believe in. When the debate was over, often my teachers would ask, "Do you believe any of what you just said?" Most often I would just shrug and say, "Not a word." This is one of the things I love the most about my upbringing, but it has also left me with a lot of gray.
I lived (and continue to some extent) in a struggle, not fully wanting to embrace the "right" road. Something deep inside goes "but what about..." By doing this I found myself in conflict. I was tearing myself apart. In the last year I have made concerted efforts to flee the "gray" in my life. I have said "no" to a lot of things previously classified as "gray", in this process I have found a greater peace or calm. Mike would maybe call these "gray" things the little foxes. I'm trying to chase away the little things that steal my passion, zeal, and love. These little things can make my heart so dull. Obviously, I still struggle. But I feel more settled.
I've always liked Augustine. I mean his theology was crucial to the early church and that's great, but I like his words, his sorrow over his sin, over his life. I love that he asks questions, I love that he searched hard and he found God.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Back Office Antics
We got new hats in the bookstore to sell to the masses. We celebrated this new product with this portrait. You too can have your very own mission's base hat, just drop by your local Forerunner Bookstore.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Meditations on Cold Medicine
Right now I'm coming to you from the land of the ubber dopey. I'm having some allergy issues so I am on some drugs that make me a little loopey but have a profound affect on a cold. The following is what I am thinking about as I am drifting in and out of lucidity. Seat belts everyone.
1) There are a lot of complex problems in the world. I recently subscribed to The Economist. I thought my brain may be rotting from all the People which I was reading, so I thought I'd challenge myself to something better. It is very interesting, and it reminds me how delicate the world we live in is. We are held together by a thread. Jesus has quite the reform to start when he gets back.
2) Britney and K-fed should just stop. and so know you see I still read people. But this is appalling just appalling.
3) There will be a lot of people who said "Jesus, I love you." but really didn't know Him at all. Just watched Oprah sing gospel songs to Jesus and saw her praising God, but yet she is far from Him. I, too, must be careful, lest my heart grow cold.
4)You can train goldfish to play soccer. Wired magazine did a blip on this, but I was reading it on cold medicine so I'm not sure what the article was really about. This is yet another effort to stem the tide of deteriorating brain matter.
5) Alias is over. All hail an era.
6) Imogene Heap is play in Lawrence right now. Couldn't get tickets. Really bummed.
7) Seven is the number of perfection. Couldn't have just six things, that is the number of the beast.
That's it. I am about to slip off into a sweet but terribly confusing dream I am sure.
Night.
1) There are a lot of complex problems in the world. I recently subscribed to The Economist. I thought my brain may be rotting from all the People which I was reading, so I thought I'd challenge myself to something better. It is very interesting, and it reminds me how delicate the world we live in is. We are held together by a thread. Jesus has quite the reform to start when he gets back.
2) Britney and K-fed should just stop. and so know you see I still read people. But this is appalling just appalling.
3) There will be a lot of people who said "Jesus, I love you." but really didn't know Him at all. Just watched Oprah sing gospel songs to Jesus and saw her praising God, but yet she is far from Him. I, too, must be careful, lest my heart grow cold.
4)You can train goldfish to play soccer. Wired magazine did a blip on this, but I was reading it on cold medicine so I'm not sure what the article was really about. This is yet another effort to stem the tide of deteriorating brain matter.
5) Alias is over. All hail an era.
6) Imogene Heap is play in Lawrence right now. Couldn't get tickets. Really bummed.
7) Seven is the number of perfection. Couldn't have just six things, that is the number of the beast.
That's it. I am about to slip off into a sweet but terribly confusing dream I am sure.
Night.
Friday, May 19, 2006
It is so green!
I've been taking a blog break. I've just been too crazy to try to formulate anything worth reading.
I just got back from six days of "camping" in parkville, MO. It wasn't really camping because there was running water. But that's the only kind of camping I can do. It was very green. That's what out of towners kept telling me; "It's so green."
I spent a lot of time describing IHOP. That was more fun then it sounds. It reinvigorated my heart in a surprising way. Something about sharing a vision, really reminded me of my own desires and passions which can get lost in the day to day.
It was a nice break, but it is good to be back and sleeping in a non-bunk bed (also nice... coffee shop, I was lost without my tea).
I just got back from six days of "camping" in parkville, MO. It wasn't really camping because there was running water. But that's the only kind of camping I can do. It was very green. That's what out of towners kept telling me; "It's so green."
I spent a lot of time describing IHOP. That was more fun then it sounds. It reinvigorated my heart in a surprising way. Something about sharing a vision, really reminded me of my own desires and passions which can get lost in the day to day.
It was a nice break, but it is good to be back and sleeping in a non-bunk bed (also nice... coffee shop, I was lost without my tea).
Friday, April 28, 2006
End Times Diorama of the Day
This diorama comes to us through the brilliant mind of Matthew Hartke. You'll see that in this depiction Dale is on the sea of glass with Steve Jobs. Our ardent desire is that he won't be offended when it's all coming down.
Green with Envy
I was sick on Wednesday, but I asked my co-workers to continue with our weekly staff meeting without me. I received these photos shortly after the meeting would have ended. This is their feeble attempt to make me jealous with their special drinks. It worked.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
First eBay Purchase
This purse (or luggage as some might say, as it is quite large) is the first thing I have acquired from eBay, and I am totally head over heals for this bag. It is more amazing then I could have imagined, I fit everything into it. The actual horsebit handle makes the bag a little weighty, but that's my only real complaint. And I got a great deal. All I need is a venti caramel macchiato, a huge pair of sunglasses, some leggings and an over sized sweater, and you can call me Ashley or Mary Kate Olsen (I might also have to lose half of my body mass).
Friday, April 21, 2006
Tastes Change
I had a stunning (maybe not so stunning) revelation the other night. I realized that the way I see my life and where I see it going has totally changed. The things I wanted and thought I would be doing 6 years a go have little to no appeal. I thought I’d be in law school or getting a masters in history (which would have been fine and good), but I have no desire for it anymore. I’ve been thinking about this because several people have encouraged me lately to go be a lawyer. I just raise my eyebrows and shrug, it just doesn’t ring true anymore.
Things I thought I would never do or things I would’ve abhorred, I now find myself enjoying. It’s odd thinking about that version of me, that version being so far away from me now. It makes me glad that God knows me so well; he knows the true desires of my heart, not just what I say I want. He, being the one who made me, knows what will really make me happy, and he loves me so much he doesn’t give me my fleeting wishes, the good gifts he gives me last, they endure my fickle heart.
Things I thought I would never do or things I would’ve abhorred, I now find myself enjoying. It’s odd thinking about that version of me, that version being so far away from me now. It makes me glad that God knows me so well; he knows the true desires of my heart, not just what I say I want. He, being the one who made me, knows what will really make me happy, and he loves me so much he doesn’t give me my fleeting wishes, the good gifts he gives me last, they endure my fickle heart.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
I’m addicted to my non-existent commute
Back at home I had to drive 45 minutes to work everyday and an hour back. I used to hate the drive, especially in the winter, where it could take two hours. Almost everybody commutes in and around Chicago. Those of us living the suburbs have to drive, as public transportation is a novelty (and also almost non-existent). I used to have to buy two or three CDs a week, just to keep my mind off my driving. I used to read in the car, and I’m ashamed to say I’ve even crocheted while driving.
Now I live five minutes from my job, five minutes from IHOP, five minutes from most stores, five minutes (if not five seconds) from all my friends. I have found in the last year and a half, I miss the drive. So in substitute, before and after work I often find myself passing my house or office and just driving in a neat circle (red bridge, blue river, blue ridge, grandview) sometimes when I have time or I need to think I find myself just driving in this circle, I’ll glance at my cell phone to see what time it is, only to note that several hours have gone by. My dearest friends know when to find me when I am upset; they call and ask “Do I need to drag you off blue river road?” It’s extraordinarily cathartic. It calms me down, it eases my mind and I find myself better able to handle odd situations.
One particularly hard week, I realized that I had been driving for several hours, so I went back to my apartment and grabbed a bag and decided to drive home for the weekend so at least I could say I went somewhere. On that trip in the middle of podunk Illinois I saw the aurora borealis (northern lights). It was amazing, I had to keep myself from driving off the road, and everyone on the road was driving with their head out the window. I’d stop looking for a few minutes but then I couldn’t help but keep turning my head to stare at this beautiful thing.
All that to say…
I have an addiction to aimless driving. I’m not sure how to stop. This is my confession of the day.
Now I live five minutes from my job, five minutes from IHOP, five minutes from most stores, five minutes (if not five seconds) from all my friends. I have found in the last year and a half, I miss the drive. So in substitute, before and after work I often find myself passing my house or office and just driving in a neat circle (red bridge, blue river, blue ridge, grandview) sometimes when I have time or I need to think I find myself just driving in this circle, I’ll glance at my cell phone to see what time it is, only to note that several hours have gone by. My dearest friends know when to find me when I am upset; they call and ask “Do I need to drag you off blue river road?” It’s extraordinarily cathartic. It calms me down, it eases my mind and I find myself better able to handle odd situations.
One particularly hard week, I realized that I had been driving for several hours, so I went back to my apartment and grabbed a bag and decided to drive home for the weekend so at least I could say I went somewhere. On that trip in the middle of podunk Illinois I saw the aurora borealis (northern lights). It was amazing, I had to keep myself from driving off the road, and everyone on the road was driving with their head out the window. I’d stop looking for a few minutes but then I couldn’t help but keep turning my head to stare at this beautiful thing.
All that to say…
I have an addiction to aimless driving. I’m not sure how to stop. This is my confession of the day.
Monday, April 10, 2006
End Times Diorama of the Day
This diorama comes to you sponsored in part by Carrie, sponsored in other parts by the most fabulous birthday party ever.
For Dale's birthday we each created dioramas of Dale in different end-times scenarios. The results were fascinating.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Smile!
I think it odd when random strangers (always male, never in my experience, female) command you to smile.
I know it’s happened to other people. I’ll be just standing waiting in line or looking at product to purchase when a random stranger or employee will come up to me and say, “Smile, life can’t be that bad.” or “Smile, life isn’t that rough.” I recently thought about this odd behavior when one particularly stressful and sad week in my life, this strange “smile command” happened to me multiple times.
I realized this happens to me quite a bit. I attribute it to two things.
I often stand in thought, and while thinking I generally look sad or pensive. I don’t know why…
I’m not a big smiler. My face, at rest, I guess, looks sad.
Still, I’m miffed at this “smile command”. I think it’s presumptuous to interrupt someone’s train of thought to request of them a happier facial expression. First off, maybe I am sad, maybe I am having a rough day. Second off, a “smile command” isn’t actually going to change my day; it might actually make me sadder when I realize how sad I must look to others. Thirdly, I think it ill-legitimizes my feelings. It is saying surely life can’t be as sad as you look, when in a fact it very well might be. Life is very complicated. Fourthly, I am not and will not be a window dressing in people’s Mary Poppins fairy tale life. I’m sorry my sad face affects people adversely but it is real and it is me.
And how am I to respond to such requests? I normally look up mildly horrified and offer a weak, placating smile accompanied with an eye roll.
Not today, today I reclaimed my facial expressions as my own, today I responded, with a firm, “Actually, you have no idea what my day has been like.”
Here’s my application: First, I am going to try to look happier. Most of the time I am pretty content and I would want my face to show it. Second, if I really am sad, I’m not going to smile when commanded. I won’t be mean, but I think I’ll just stare blankly back.
Note: this diatribe is not against those who are truly compassionate and empathetic towards others. I appreciate comments like “rough day, huh?” or “hope your day goes better.” Or “I’m having a rough time too.” I am speaking strictly about odd instances with total strangers in which they command me to smile for them.
I know it’s happened to other people. I’ll be just standing waiting in line or looking at product to purchase when a random stranger or employee will come up to me and say, “Smile, life can’t be that bad.” or “Smile, life isn’t that rough.” I recently thought about this odd behavior when one particularly stressful and sad week in my life, this strange “smile command” happened to me multiple times.
I realized this happens to me quite a bit. I attribute it to two things.
I often stand in thought, and while thinking I generally look sad or pensive. I don’t know why…
I’m not a big smiler. My face, at rest, I guess, looks sad.
Still, I’m miffed at this “smile command”. I think it’s presumptuous to interrupt someone’s train of thought to request of them a happier facial expression. First off, maybe I am sad, maybe I am having a rough day. Second off, a “smile command” isn’t actually going to change my day; it might actually make me sadder when I realize how sad I must look to others. Thirdly, I think it ill-legitimizes my feelings. It is saying surely life can’t be as sad as you look, when in a fact it very well might be. Life is very complicated. Fourthly, I am not and will not be a window dressing in people’s Mary Poppins fairy tale life. I’m sorry my sad face affects people adversely but it is real and it is me.
And how am I to respond to such requests? I normally look up mildly horrified and offer a weak, placating smile accompanied with an eye roll.
Not today, today I reclaimed my facial expressions as my own, today I responded, with a firm, “Actually, you have no idea what my day has been like.”
Here’s my application: First, I am going to try to look happier. Most of the time I am pretty content and I would want my face to show it. Second, if I really am sad, I’m not going to smile when commanded. I won’t be mean, but I think I’ll just stare blankly back.
Note: this diatribe is not against those who are truly compassionate and empathetic towards others. I appreciate comments like “rough day, huh?” or “hope your day goes better.” Or “I’m having a rough time too.” I am speaking strictly about odd instances with total strangers in which they command me to smile for them.
Friday, March 31, 2006
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.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, March 24, 2006
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.
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.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
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)
2) The Fray
3) Heidi Stiegh (RMS Sensei - all hail Canada)
4) Tea Au Lait (made by Nick, Ryan, or Mesa)
Friday, March 10, 2006
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.
2) My iPOD
3) Imogen Heap
Combine those three together and it's like happiness in a bottle.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, March 03, 2006
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?
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?
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