Somebody done stole baby Jesus

The lead story in today's Gaston Gazette: "Gastonia man laments theft of baby Jesus from yard" . This is good stuff, folks. The plastic Baby Jesus cost $25 bucks. And, somebody stole it. Symbolism, anyone?

wimp!

Back in the summer, my brother and I decided to train for a half marathon where we wouldn't have to travel. So, I dutifully signed up for the Thunder Road Half Marathon in Charlotte while it still only cost $55. Meanwhile my brother backed out. Then, a cold front slams through doing its best impersonation of New Hampshire. I wimped out. (I'm not in half shape due to a full time job and taking a class. And, if I got pooped, I'd get chilled walking. At least that's my excuse.) I took my exam for my human development course instead. Then, I sewed my Christmas dress-- navy satin not Rudolph.

birthday cake

Last night after dinner, my friend asked me if I would like a piece of cake, and, of course, I said sure. It was thawed birthday cake... and her birthday's December 19th. It was a pretty cake, but it tasted a lot like freezer. I ate most of the icing, but the actual cake was rough going. I ate over half of my piece so not to be rude. My friend was talking about how great a packing job had been done (3 layers of heavy duty aluminum foil). So afterwards, G asked me how it was, and I replied, "Pretty good." As she was wrapping it back up in the foil, she told me it was from her birthday in 2000. She then added she had a piece yesterday and it hadn't made her sick to assure me that I wasn't her guinea pig. When I related this to the Chief, she responded, "She's German."

a thanksgiving heart

One of my students came up to me during a class change and asked me if he could keep his turkey heart in my window since Mrs. E was not in her room. I said okay. When the dust had settled and the kids were seated, I found a greyish, purplish, flaccid organ on the open window. I picked the bag up, closed the window and placed it next to the window.

When he came back from lunch, he took the turkey heart, now swimming in cold water, and placed the bag in his desk. He'd occasionally pull it out to check on it as if it were a goldfish and had some entertainment value. I just give him "teacher-eye" and he'd put it back in his desk.

While waiting for his bus at the end of the day, turkey-heart boy yelled at another kid, "You're weird." I started laughing. Turkey-heart boy looked at me. I told him, "You have to admit that's a bit ironic coming from a kid who brought a frozen turkey heart to school." He acknowledged my point with a smile.

clowns 1,000 joy 0

I'd be more prepared to meet a clown if I were at a circus, and they were dressed up. But, I always meet them when my guard is down, and I'm not emotionally prepared for the clownage. For instance, today, when I went to register for my Lateral Entry classes at the local schmocal college. The lady told me I didn't have the prerequisite. I told her I found that I found that hard to believe since I have a BA and a MA. She told me that they didn't have my transcipts in my folder. I responded I brought them to the college in August for the class I'm enrolled in now, and although I couldn't account for where they were that I could verify I brought them. Then she told me she had no way of knowing if I'd attended the schools. I explained that I couldn't teach if I didn't have the degrees I was saying I had (and consequently wouldn't be involved in this conversation)-- they're prerequisites for my job. Call the school system for which I work. She told me to calm down while pointing her finger at me. I thanked her for making my decision easier.

So, I'm looking for a different school, which I needed to do all along. I just landed in this one because it's the closest and least expensive (well, money wise). It wasn't the height of my emotional maturity, but all my emotional maturity had already been spent on 7th grade drama.

I just made a date to run an ultra marathon with my cousin when he gets back from Iraq and I complete my certification. There's light at the end of the tunnel for both of us. At least he gets weapons. And, he offered for me to drive his car while he's away. I love my family-- there some of the few people that are insane enough to get me.

And, I'm going sailing on Saturday!! The forecast if for the mid 60s and partly cloudy. I saw R before school, and he asked if I wanted to crew. I responded, "Of course." It's going to be a 4 man crew. Being on the water mellows me-- the size of the lake (or ocean) helps put things in perspective. Furthermore, it's a reminder of how little control we have over anything really. And, it gives me distance from all the ticky tack annoying crap that innundates my daily existence. It functions a lot like art-- it reminds of wonder and fun and beauty and adventure.

And, I made a date with my brother for the Sinatra night with the Charlotte Pops on Friday. It's going to be a swanky, good time. Where does one eat before a "Sinatra" concert.

Blood Meridian is phenomenal, and guys are a pain in the ass.

discussion board

So, I'm the jerk in my online course. Here's the proof:

The Tuskegee Syphilis Study: 600 low-income African-American males, 400 infected with syphilis were monitored for 40 years. The purpose of the study was to examine the long-term affects of syphilis. The subjects of the study were 400 African American males, who were primarily poor sharecroppers. These men all had syphilis, but were unaware of it. They were also unaware of the true nature of the experiment. The most horrifying aspect of the experiment was that, even in the 1950's penicillin was proved to be effective at curing syphilis, the researchers did not treat the men's syphilis. They even prevented other doctors who saw the participants from treating the syphilis. As many as one hundred men may have died from complications of their untreated syphilis.

My response: Of course, research would be run differently now because we have a different anthropology! The research is unethical and cruel by today's standards. However, it's anachronistic to judge these researchers by today's standards. In their context African Americans were considered 3/5 of a person even if slavery had been repealed-- remember American history? In the researchers' minds, it wasn't too far off from animal testing (right or wrong). Have you studied any of the entire Social Purity Movement in the 19th and 20th centuries that happened in the US and the UK and colonies? This is not nearly as cruel as the studies British researchers did on Chinese and Indian prostitutes in Hong Kong and India. One must observe history within its context. The Victorian standards came with a heavy price. However, the closed race and gender of the study is remarkably advanced, albeit for the wrong reasons. It wasn't until the 1990s that medicine recognized the differences in male and female body systems-- that heart research needed to be performed on women as well.

Of course, I presume everybody who's horrified by this study buys nothing made in China or any other 2/3 world country that are known for such egregious human rights violations.

My response to another student's response: "Unethical" and "appalling" are extremely emotive words. Of course, one has a visceral reaction to this type of history. But, it is human nature after all, is it not? Look at the Babylonians, the Egyptians, the Nazis, modern China. For most of history, medicine has caused more deaths than saved lives. One most consider the context.

another passed over ditty

Hebrews 7
Melchizedek is a fascinating, mysterious figure, a priest, who fits somewhere outside of expectation and protocol. We know very little details about his life, but the author of Hebrews uses him as an archetype for Christ’s role as high priest. Either author’s contemporaries were more familiar with Melchizedek than modern Bible readers, and a reference to him functioned as a reference to Abraham Lincoln in our culture, or, the author is using the mystery enshrouding Melchizedek as a symbol of how little we know about Jesus. Probably, the author is employing both to derive the dialectic necessary to talk about Jesus, the Son of God and the Son of Man, and his role as mediator between God and humanity.
Melchizedek and Jesus represent a refreshing, key point in theology: God is God. God did set up protocol for humans, but God, himself, is not bound to it. (Likewise, it’s humorous that we refer to the miracles of Jesus—they aren’t miracles if he is God.) God reveals a lot about himself in the Scriptures; story after story we learn that God is good, powerful and personal, that he loves justice, mercy and obedience, and abhors injustice and idolatry. He reveals Jesus to be his son and the one who rescues us from ourselves and sin. In the story of Melchizedek, there is protocol for priests to be in Aaron’s line, but there is room for an outlier; God uses an oath in lieu of the covenant. But even the outliers function as revelation of who God is. God is holy and other.
The early church referred to thinking about all that we don’t know about God as negative theology (what God has revealed about himself is positive theology). Gregory of Nyssa preached, “And yet, as the great John says: ‘No one has seen God at any time.’ And the sublime mind of Paul confirms this opinion when he says that ‘no one has seen or can see God’. God is the slippery steep crag which yields no footholds for our imagination. Moses too, in his teaching, declares that God is so inaccessible that our mind cannot approach him.”
Jesus is far more than any analogy we can draw. Priestly talk is a reminder of the absolute holiness of God… and our sin. We aren’t worthy of approaching God, but Jesus came in order to advocate for us.

approved books

Two weeks ago, I got reprimanded for reading a novel that was too mature for my students and was forced to quit after chapter 9 of 19 chapters. I was a little miffed because the principal hadn't even read the book; she just overheard a pretty rough section. I'm averse to any censorship; perhaps, I'm a little too out there. But, after the "cell phone" incident, I'm sticking with my instincts.

Today, I scavenged for novel sets in different Language Arts classrooms, and in a sixth grade classroom closet, I hit jackpot: The Hobbit, The Phantom Tollbooth and A Day No Pigs Would Die. So, now I'm going to sketch out time lines. And, for teaching poetry I think I'm going to read one of Shakespeare's histories: either Julius Caesar or one of the Henry IVs.

This is the part of the job I like.

another one

This week has been a doozy. So much work, ye gods. I stayed till seven most days and brought stuff home. The teachers at my school were laughing about how the administration is trying to get us to hate our jobs. They put manditory training (in stuff I'll never use in my classroom) during our planning, faculty meetings and parent conferences all in the same week, which was the week after report card grades were due. Plus, in my lateral entry class, we had to read 4 chapters (200 pages) instead of the usual two, do a four hour observation of a young childcare and write a five page paper. Then, during this hoopla, I wrote a meditation on a Scripture verse-- I wrote I Kings 18 when I was supposed to write on II Kings 19. So close, yet so far away.

Meanwhile, during yesterday's planning, my teammate confiscated a student's cellphone. After the child said, "Don't check it. I'll get in so much trouble!", we looked through the texts and pictures and found plenty of things that would be disturbing on a 30 year old's cellphone let alone a 12 year olds: propositions for sex, nude photos, etc. But, maybe we'll get the girl the help she needs. And, during the parent conferences I found out a student's mother served a 7 year prison sentence for abusing our student and his brother-- that's why they can't have their picture published on the website or in the newspaper. The mother has tried to kidnap them twice. When I left last night, I was drained. The three teachers on my team had cried yesterday, including me. Sometimes, teaching grammar is the least of my problems. Kyrios eleison.

In I Kings (just as in Judges), we’re watching a downward spiral in leadership. Ahab was the worst in the lineup of bad kings. He married Jezebel, who converted his kingdom into a completely pagan one replete with assassinating the LORD's prophets, installing Baal and Asherah prophets and idols, and rejecting the justice required by The LORD. Ahab’s rejection of The LORD is reminiscent of the prodigal son in the parable.

In I Kings 17, the LORD decides to let the Northern Kingdom experience the logical consequence of their disobedience. He takes off the training wheels and lets them experience the results of misplaced faith in a god with no eyes to see, no ears to hear, no heart to love, and no right arm with which to act.

Yahweh calls Elijah to tell Ahab that there will be no rain, the symbol of blessing throughout the Old Testament, until Yahweh decides there will be. Ahab’s reaction is to order the execution of Yahweh’s prophets. The drought causing extreme famine in the land might cause most kings to repent and beg forgiveness of Yahweh in order to save his people. No, Ahab hunts for Elijah without success. Over two years later, Yahweh sends Elijah back to announce that he has decided it will rain.

But, first there is a show down between the 450 Baal prophets and Elijah. Elijah taunts the prophets (“Where’s your god ... is he using the bathroom ... is that why he isn’t answering you”). Somehow, it isn’t shocking that golden calf was unresponsive to their pleas. Whereas, Elijah prays, “O Lord, God of Abraham, Isaac and Israel, let it be known today that you are God in Israel and that I am your servant and have done all these things at your command. Answer me, O Lord, answer me, so these people will know that you, O Lord, are God, and that you are turning their hearts back again (36b-38).”

The LORD answered Elijah’s prayer: “Then the fire of the Lord fell and burned up the sacrifice and burned up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and the soil, and also licked up the water in the trench. When the people saw this, they fell prostrate and cried, “The Lord—he is God! The Lord—he is God!”
Yahweh called Elijah to a hard duty, Elijah chose obedience and God was faithful to him. Ahab had equal opportunity to worship God and access to his grace, but continually refused and with each disobedient act his heart was as hard as the idols he worshipped.

Vancouver and Iraq

I went to Vancouver last weekend to a dear friend's wedding. It was a beautiful, simple wedding. I got to hang out with her family, run Stanley Park Seawall and make a new friend. My flight got cancelled so I got to spend an extra day, but at the cost of teaching an entire day after a red-eye. Then, this weekend I finished up a class I'm taking for my certification, which was a complete relief. Then, we had a bon voyage party for my two cousins who are off to Iraq one tomorrow and one next week. Last night was fun but bittersweet. My one cousin has a three-month old girl. My computer is about to run out of battery, so this is my brilliant entry.

excitement mounts: U2's 360 Tour

I've already been privvy to copious amounts of U2 concert information. I've seen pictures on my cell and FB. But, I have to say that the set list has been the most exciting. We'll see if the Raleigh concert is different than the Barcelona, won't we? This will be my first U2 concert.

Here are some sights and sounds from opening night of the 360 Tour in Barcelona, Spain.
Setlist:
1. Breathe
2. No Line On The Horizon
3. Get On Your Boots
4. Magnificent
5. Beautiful Day
6. I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For
7. Angel Of Harlem / Man In The Mirror (snippet) / Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough (snippet)
8. In A Little While
9. Unknown Caller
10. The Unforgettable Fire
11. City Of Blinding Lights
12. Vertigo
13. Crazy Tonight
14. Sunday Bloody Sunday
15. Pride
16. MLK
17. Walk On
(Encore – Desmund Tutu speech plays leading into Streets)
18. Where The Streets Have No Name (With the red lights again! )
19. One – MESSED UP>> restart *
(Short break)
20. Ultraviolet
21. With or Without You
22. Moment of Surrender

I'm tired, but relaxed. I have a lot of work, but that's not overwhelming me. I've lost five pounds (very Bridget Jones of me). And, the crush I thought I'd snuffed out has reignited. C'est la vie. This time next week I'll be in Vancouver.

forecast sunny

Things got better. Don't know how. Don't know why. My job doesn't feel like a ton imposition on me. I'm slowly getting situated in the sea of students and learning that I get through one fewer activity with a class of 34 then with a class of 28. It has something to do with how many times the same question gets asked. One day, I answered the same question over twenty times. PAY ATTENTION, why dontcha. But, my lesson on Islam went fantastically today. We talked about OT ethics and human rights. One of my biggest punks told me "that was really interesting" after class, which floored me. They kept asking me, "How do you know that?" And, I'd say, "Because I'm a genius" or "I paid attention in school." Plus, we're supposed to get the new teacher Monday. I'll be down to 28 students a class and one prep! More pandemonium, but good pandemonium.

I can tell I'm feeling better because I met the Chief for dinner and, on a whim, decided to go to Charlotte and by a skirt. And I bought some other pieces as well. It felt like illicit fun. The Chief is more fun than a lot of people I know my age. I got some clothes to wear to the Vancouver wedding-- it's a 10 shindig in North Vancouver at a lodge, which is kind of an odd style thing. This marriage makes me happy.

My uncle sent me the playlist for U2 today. No "Cedars of Lebanon" but I'll probably live. Now I need to read a chapter titled "Motivation" in my learning theory. Oh, but if it could teach me how to do that. But, although the path devious keeps winding, there is a light.

Spear? Reflection on 1 Sam 24-26

Within the wilderness tales of Chapters 24-26, David proves himself to be the true king of Israel. In these scenes, David refuses to take the future into his own hands and, thereby, refuses to kill Saul or follow “eye for an eye” ethics. David’s disciplined patience show him to be meek, foreshadowing Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount, “Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5). “‘Meekness’ designates the controlled strength that turns it back on self-aggrandizing opportunism and stands patiently firm while waiting for God’s “day" and timing. In honoring Saul as God’s anointed, David honors God, who works his will in history when and where and how he wills" (Peterson, First and Second Samuel 123).

Moreover, this chapter reveals the profound difference between Saul and David. David refuses to use his weapon. But, is Saul ever without his spear? While in his court, Saul threw his spear at David in Chapters 18 and 19. And in Chapter 20, Saul tries to kill his own son Jonathan with the same spear. In Chapter 22, Saul is seated “with his spear in hand.” Now, years later, when David comes upon him, Saul’s spear is right beside him (v 7).

However, what is most compelling about this chapter and the entire book is that it is “an immersion in the human condition with all its glory and hurt, promise and difficulty. But, we’re never left with mere humanity, mere history. The skill of the narrator keeps us alert to the presence and purposes of God being worked out in this story. We’re being trained to read between the lines, for much of this story is implicit. But it’s unmistakably there - David isn’t David apart from God. None of us is. Most of what we’re reading in David is God in David (Leap Over a Wall 137).”

“The David story keeps us in touch with our humanity - all of which has to do with God. There’s no part of our humanity that isn’t God-created and God-conditioned. The David story is a primary way in which the Holy Spirit keeps us in touch, alert, and responsive to the gravity and ground of our lives in God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit and alert to the reality of evil that would destroy or weaken our humanity.” (Leap Over a Wall 137).

my first regatta in ten years!

Yesterday had a lot of religious significance: Rosh Hashannah for Judaism and the Marrakesh for Islam. Oddly enough, it did for me too because it's about this time of year that I miss rowing. The weather is getting crisp as a Granny Smith and the leaves are starting to turn. I want to feel the speed and the coolness of the water. This time of the year represents all the things I miss about it.

So, when you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with. I raced on a sailboat this weekend for the first time and had a great time. The new art teacher at my school owns a J/27 and invited me to crew for him. I immediately accepted.We had two races on Saturday and one today-- we got second in all three. Saturday's wind hovered between 4-7 nauts and Sunday's 6-10 knots (I don't know how to spell this not, knot, naut.) I need to learn knots to be helpful; Richard went off on a diatribe about how useless Girl Scouts is when he found out my cluelessness regarding knots. I learned so much. There are so many terms (clew, tack, pinch, scream, spinnaker, halyard, lift wind vs. head wind). Plus, there were all the flags. The strategy was fun too. There were about 36 boats in the race.

The crew were four guys who have been sailing together for at least 10 years; the banter between the crusty sailers was fantastic. They were encouraging and fun. There were aspects that were brand new and extremely familiar. It was different to be excited about heavy wind. Choppy water wasn't a good thing in rowing and a great thing this weekend. Sailing isn't the workout that rowing is, but I came home with tired muscles-- there's tugging, lifting, etc.

Then I drove home from Lake Norman, took a nap, went for a 5 mile run and gearing up for my classwork for my LE class. Yippee, yi, yay. I had an exhausting, depleting week at work. I needed this beautiful, fun weekend. I'm slowly learning that leaving work alone when you leave makes me a better, saner, happier, more productive teacher.

This adventure in rowing reminded me what an adventure life can be, how many kind and generous people there are, how beautiful God's creation is, and how good our God is! It was no official religious observance for my faith, it was spontaneous observance.

rejected: 2 Cor 6

I wrote this for another blog and the girl decided that a tale of lovelorn woe was a better fit. So, I like this piece and wanted it to have a home. It's rather apropos for a piece on this passage to get rejected, eh?

Jon Krakauer chose Pat Tillman as the subject of his new book, Where Men Win Glory. As the author of Into Thin Air and Into the Wild, Krakauer has a nose for adventure gone awry. As Paul wrote earlier, we are made in the image of a beautiful and adventurous God, and heaven is the adventure for which we are preparing. But, the practice and endurance workouts we’re doing are both excruciating and tedious similar to the crisises Krakauer's subjects face.

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970203440104574406732146520274.html

Paul addresses our preparation for heaven in 2 Corinthians 6: 4-10 with a complex, compound sentence both grammatically and theologically.
People are watching us as we stay at our post, alertly, unswervingly . . . in hard times, tough times, bad times; when we're beaten up, jailed, and mobbed; working hard, working late, working without eating; with pure heart, clear head, steady hand; in gentleness, holiness, and honest love; when we're telling the truth, and when God's showing his power; when we're doing our best setting things right; when we're praised, and when we're blamed; slandered, and honored; true to our word, though distrusted; ignored by the world, but recognized by God; terrifically alive, though rumored to be dead; beaten within an inch of our lives, but refusing to die; immersed in tears, yet always filled with deep joy; living on handouts, yet enriching many; having nothing, having it all.

As daunting as this sentence is, it is anything but boring. This sentence tells of a passion far greater than any desire to climb a mountain or win a war.

“Dear, dear Corinthians, I can’t tell you how much I long for you to enter this wide-open spacious life. We didn’t fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren’t small, but you’re living them in a small way. I’m speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!” (v 11-13The Message)

This passage is reminiscent of a scene in Mark’s Gospel:

As Jesus left the house, he was followed by two blind men crying out, “Mercy, Son of David! Mercy on us!” When Jesus got home, the blind men went in with him. Jesus said to them, “Do you really believe I can do this?” They said, “Why, yes, Master!”

He touched their eyes and said, “Become what you believe.” It happened. They saw. (Mark 9: 28-30 The Message)

These passages are calls to a life of adventure not comfort, safety or ease. Like the risk-takers that Krakauer chronicles, we have license to enter this wide-open spacious life… to open up our lives and live openly and expansively. Our lives are not determined by our circumstances but by the mystery of our new creation through Jesus.

Richmond

I'm exploring the capital of the Confederacy. The Poe Museum was closed as was Sheba, the Ethiopian restaurant. Alas, it was Monday. But, I happened upon Cap'n Buzzy's, an independent coffee shop. I'm staying with my sister on Tobacco Row in her sweet loft apartment: insanely tall ceiling, huge windows, elevated bedroom, brick wall, wood floors. We went to the Cake concert at the National last night. I had a lamb burger at Gibson's. I didn't sleep well. So, I drank a pot of coffee when I got up at 8:30. I'm quite taken with Shockoe Bottom. It's charming. And, I'm saying that as a person who rolls her eyes when people use "charming" as an euphemism. But, it fits the quirky Federalist houses and churches converted into "lovely condos" and cobblestone streets.

This city is chock full of quirky people. This place is a budding novelist's playground. Damn, her work is done just driving around this place. The bumper stickers, the fashion, the architecture... the trees. This city is not only full of personalities but has a distinct one itself. Perhaps that's the necessary outcome of a gigantic monument of Robert E. Lee on Traveler complete with a round-a-bout. This city is thoroughly Southern. Southerners actually outnumber the carpetbaggers here unlike Charlotte.

I'm ashamed to say that this is the first time I've been to the Commonwealth's capital. I really like it. I think I may be a city dweller at heart. But, just last week, I was thoroughly ensconced in the rural life-- about two miles from an Amish settlement.

I'm dreading, DREADING, starting back to school. I like vacation when I have a paycheck.

bent woman

Being quiet-- away from home and my normal distractions rather than not busy-- produced some journaling and prayer that I couldn't have reached at my desk at home. In my normal hustle and bustle, sin tends to slink into dusty corners that I overlook. The Sisters' of Mercy mercy and openness provided a gentleness that allowed me to appraise my soul's room, finding many a cobweb of sin: corners cluttered with anger and bitterness and pride. But the webs were woven with nothing abstract. There were memories with words and faces and emotions all stuffed in said corner feeding my sin. Of course, reading my English Grammar book made me realize that there's a lot to my native tongue that I don't know; perhaps it's the same with my crooks and crannies of my soul. How many more areas of my life as basic, intrinsinic and profound do I think I have under control-- just like the nominal? Then, I finished the Eugene Peterson book, Leap Over a Wall, which had a powerful impact on my mind and soul, coupled with I and II Samuel. Some of his observations hit me squarely, leaving me unbalanced. Proust wrote: "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes."

Tonight, one of the sisters gave a talk about the bent woman in Luke who Jesus healed on the Sabbath. Jesus loves. Jesus heals. Jesus confounds. Jesus freed her from eighteen years of staring at the ground physically and metaphorically. The Word touched her and changed her life and her perspective. Yet, some of the religious leaders preferred Jesus to work by their understanding of protocol and worship. Grace is inconvenient and unruly. And, the beauty is... this woman's story is mine. We worship a Holy God known for his steadfast love. It's as Annie Dillard says-- we should wear crash helmets to church. How can I ever believe my faith is anything less than adventure, but I do. I know how to be bent; it's the routine I to which I'm accustomed. But, Jesus breaks routine anyway and anytime he sees fit. That's grace even when I don't recognize it.

potted hands

As I munched on my asparagus, dill new potatoes and garlic herb chicken, I listened to several fascinating conversations. I was sitting next to a hand sculpture who discussed her art, process and comissions. My initial reaction to the conversation was: creepy. Imagine a pair of hands on a table or bookshelf. But, as the discussion developed, I started to think about the differences between male and female hands-- subtle but distinct. Memories of my grandmother's and my dad's hands floated into my head. She chatted about how ever since she started sculpting hands; she'd become aware of how much we use them-- even when we talk. Everybody became more conscious of their hands, but in a good way: using a fork, wiping my mouth, talking.

That was not the only conversation. There were conversations on drumming in Ghana, classical guitar, cooking chicken, compost, Food, Inc., dishwashers, organic, pottery, drawing, painting, Van Gogh, Asberger's, etc. The dinner was delicious and the conversation stimulating. As I sat in the chapel for evening prayer, Irenaeus's "The glory of God is a person fully alive" sprung to mind. The fascinating conversation stemmed from passionate women living life. I was by far the youngest (probably by about 25 years), but I found these women engergizing. Sometimes I dread getting older and lament how I've wasted time, then I come across these house wives, retired teachers, real estate agents that are nothing short of amazing. They took adversity and set backs (cancer, divorce, deaths of loved ones, career loss) as opportunity. After cancer or surgery, some of them started ministries or took Healing Touch. For them, adversity transformed into love and mercy for others instead of bitterness. The only thing they had in common that I could tell was relationship with God. These women's conversation weren't selfish or self-centered. The meal was the communion of saints. This dinner was nourishing and humbling.

The conversations led to self reflection. I'm no potter, no artist, no cook. But, who am I? The thought that popped into my head was studying for 8 hours straight (11am-7pm) this Tuesday. A lot of people couldn't do that. Granted, studying is the antithesis of sexy and seemingly pointless (grammar and classroom management). But, there's always the x factor in our lives: God. I'm nearing the end of Eugene Peterson's exposition of David's Life, Leap Over a Wall, and it's taking root in my mind. Writing about I and II Samuel, he states:

"We're getting a feel for the kind of narrative written here-- an immersion in the human condition with all its glory and hurt, promise and difficulty. But we're never left with mere humanity, mere history. The skill of the narrator keeps us alert to the presence and purposes of God being worked out in this story. We're being trained to read between the lines, for much of this story is implicit. But it's unmistakably there-- David isn't David apart from God. None of us is. Most of what we're reading about in David is God in David....

"The David story is a major means for providing us a narrative context for understanding our lives, in all their complexities as God-shaped.... ...Christians have characteristically lived themselves into the story of David.
As we do that, one of the things we realize is that the Christian life develops organically. It grows from a seed that's planted in the actual soil of our muscles and brain cells, our emotions and moods, our genetic code and work schedule, the North American weather and our family history....

"This is why the David story continues to prove so useful: it doesn't show us how we should live but how we do live" (pp. 137-9).

So reading the story of David this month, including the Psalms, with Peterson as my guide has been therapeutic. It's turned some of my angst into hope and faith... or at least converted the energy. I get frustrated with how utterly puny my life is. Last week, a friend and I started crying because we were laughing so hard from talking about our unexpected (and tragic to the naked eye) lives. But, we can laugh because we know there's more. There is, in fact, a loving, personal and gracious God who is as active in our lives as He was in David's. After all, that's the gospel: "The gospel is never a truth in general; it's always a truth in specific. The gospel is never a commentary on ideas or culture or conditions; it's always about actual persons, actual pain, actual trouble, actual sin: you, me; who you are, what you've done; who I am; what I've done" (Leap p.185).

But, perhaps I should replace "puny" with "small". PD James wrote, "Things good are small and fragile" to defend writing murder mysteries. Being on retreat has been replete with things small and fragile: Queen Anne's Lace, hugs, smiles, walking, naps, blueberries and hammocks. Meister Eckhart wrote, "If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, 'Thank you,' that would suffice." God's as present in my classroom of seventh graders as He is in the potter's studio of clay hands and as He was in David's field of sheep. My challenge is to be alive.

"A Set of Rules Inside Your Head"

The above title was one of the three definitions of "grammar" I read today. I just added exponentially to my (already above average) nerdiness. You're asking, "Dear God, how is that possible?" I'll tell you: a 300-page, college-level textbook on grammar. Yes, I can chat about prescriptive AND descriptive grammar. Look me up at your next cocktail party.

And, as if grammar nerddom were not enough, I'm preparing an essay on "Assertive Discipline". I have to admit my inner 7th grader was drawn to a theory with "ass" in it-- it's so terribly relevant to discipline. My education classes are useful, but I think my textbook errs on the side of self-importance: it could be a bulleted list as far as I'm concerned.

I'm finally getting productive after several days of a haze of busyness blanketing a dirth of unproductivity. I knocked out three lessons today. At this rate, I'll finish both my classes in fewer than two weeks. On Friday, I found out that I will be offered a contract for next year (for the same position I had last year) as soon as I turn in my grades. Perhaps the uncertainity was weighing on me more than I realized.

Other big decision: I've decided to apply to PhD programs for Fall 2010. Who knows if I'll get in? If I'll get funding? But, I won't for sure if I don't apply.

IKEA overwhelmed me this afternoon. I'd been to the one in Vancouver and DC, but this was the first time I'd been to the one in Charlotte. Ye gods, it's enormous and full of stuff. All kinds of stuff. And, it's kind of creepy because I feel like I'm playing in other peoples' houses.

Last night, I watched "Food, Inc." with a friend and her friend's Christian women's discussion group. I enjoyed it. It felt a lot like book reviews of books I've either read or wanted to read. Both H and I left the theater deflated. How can a supermarket be this evil? Is there anything I can do about it? Knowledge is power, but it's also incredibly depressing.

Creativity corner: I'm coming up with middle-school centers. It's so much fun! I'm coming up with creative ways to engage students with the material. I love this stuff-- it doesn't feel like work. It's so full of imagination.

I'm going on retreat with my mom next Wednesday through Saturday. It should be really interesting and good.

sweet desert

My vacation has provided little opportunity for blogging. Perhaps, we shall call it a vacation for my readers as well. But, the blogging famine was a feast of living.

My trip was full of goodness... God's grace and goodness to be precise. Friendship is such a humbling and beautiful gift. I got to spend time with three friends that have an intense impact on my life and soul. Their love and commitment is far beyond anything I deserve, and I get energized just being around their awesomeness. They are so alive in the truest and fullest way-- the God intended way. Their laughs tinkle. Their truth tingles with the slightest of sting. I sleep really well after spending time with them-- it's like a day at the beach.

I feel more relaxed and priortized. I feel... ready. Expectant. Hopeful. I've been a stress bunny all this year, but life isn't feeling so heavy right now. I'm more self aware now-- not in an bent-in way, but a how-am-I-impacting-the-people-I-love way. I feel open. Excited. Joyful. I am in a planning stage.

Several of my friends are in love. I found their healthy, happy relationships enjoyable and inspiring. Maybe it's feasible for me to find someone compatible?

I even got reinvigorated about reading the Bible. It's exciting again. I heard some intelligent, passionate preaching in Vancouver by two of my favorite pastors.

I'm benefitting from the recreate that comes in recreation. Fun and relaxation are powerful stuff.

I've been staying with a friend's seventh grader the past couple of days. I've had a blast but am exhausted. We checked out puppies and fedoras, ate Japanese, I cooked a "visually appealling" meal that night. Then we went to church, Wendy's, Discovery Place, played with blocks, watched Transformers on Imax, walked around uptown, ate ice cream for dinner. Today, we slept in, worked out at the Y: I ran, he swam, researched puppies at the library, ate huge salads, watched Inkheart, and I did some of the homework I'd planned on doing. And, I had a great conversation with my brother today about the LSAT, running, life and God.

Elrond and deer

I just got back from Rivendell on Bowen. I'm in one of my top five favorite libraries-- the downtown Vancouver one. It was odd to be on Retreat. It was a really hard retreat for some reason. But, I'll take it. Bowen was beautiful. I ran into some Regent people at Rivendell... of course. But, it was fun: we broke some vegetables together and were delightfully silly.

I read Schmidt's Praying Experiences and Peterson's Leap Over a Wall. I wandered the "town" and ate a beef enchilada with celery in it. I slept a lot. Whenever I go on retreat I sleep.

I have less than a week to go before I'm home. Sadness.

vancouver

I'm off to Stanley Park to meet C for a run. Then, we're going to meet up with M, and go to the Vermeer and Rembrandt exhibit at the VAG. This morning I rode a bike around the sea wall to Granville Island and did the gallery crawl up Granville. I had a delicious lunch. Tomorrow I head out to Bowen Island for a three-day retreat. My half marathon went surprisingly well. It reminded me of high school Cross Country-- low key and small. I'm having a great time!

summer time

The last day of school was welcome and ... anticlimatic. Fewer than half my homeroom showed up, and half of those checked out by the early dismissal. I enjoyed the day and my kids. We listened to tunes, cleaned and chatted. My principal dismissed teachers early too. I came home and took a nap.

Now, I'm at a coffee shop writing thank you notes to the many people I owe thanks to for this year. It's been humbling and awesome to pen the notes to my mentor, principal, custodians, secretaries, etc. I owe thank yous to my family and friends as well. I have learned and grown so much this year. If my students learned a tenth of what I have, they've had a fruitful year. My contract was not renewed due to budget constraints, but there is a strong likelihood it will. Now, I need to change gears to summer. I have goals to complete my two courses, plan my syllabi, write two features and possibly contribute to another blog. And read and run and relax.

tabernacle of tedium

One more day of school... woohoo!

But, on a tedious note, I'm taking two online courses to fulfill my lateral entry requirements. Of course, my contract hasn't been renewed due to the budget's uncertainty and my being a provisional teacher. But, if I don't do the coursework, then my contract will certainly not be renewed. Catch 22.

It's been awhile since I've done busy work; I have to make it fun. Hence, the title: The Tabernacle of Tedium... for my response to the hypothetical situation to play with Glasser's Choice Theory. Ms. Dyar's classroom management style is an anal yawn if you will. (Wow, anal yawn works two ways, but I'll keep it.)

I leave for Vancouver in less than 72 hours. Exciting! I should figure out how I'm getting from Seattle to Vancouver at 10pm.

My brain is very full and busy right now. Not that I'm ever linear.

baby sitting

I'm keeping my three crazy cousins (third, sixth and eigth graders) this weekend; it's their parents' anniversary. It's been fun: apples to apples, walk, free samples, window shopping for patio furniture, Up (in 3D), loitering in parking lot so that we could avoid the wrath of the people enduring the stress of my terrible parking job, trespassing, kittens (they're a foster family for cats), pizza and cartwheels. We're all ready to get out of school! They've been incredibly fun and easy. The only close to mishap was with the 8th grader's bf coming to meet us at the movies.

Lord of the Flies sequel

Yikes. William Golding must have taught 7th grade. Ye gawds, today was a nightmare. I had four students suspended. One for calling a girl, Moochelle among other things (speaking of Piggy). Of course, it snowballed with other kids getting involved and retaliating. One of my girls used the N-word. One of my boys punched another kid in the crotch. I am coming up with a tight seating arrangement for the next couple of days; I'm partly to blame for the chaos. Plus, I'd planned for a certain schedule that was changed by my teammate.

Yet, the day ended with a magnificent game of girls v boys kickball. The girls almost won, but had one too many errors.

My sister leaves for Paris tomorrow while I get deal with the middle school end of the year crazy. Different strokes for different folks, eh?

sweat shop

So, I was running a sweat shop today. Some students begged to stay in my room in lieu of watching Cheaper by the Dozen (can't say that I blame them). I gave them the condition that they'd have to work. And work they did. My room looks far more packed-- and they did fairly well working together. I even got my report cards finished while there were ten kids in my room. We decided to have the sweat shop all girls... and it ran far more smoothly. And, I paid each of my workers a bouncy ball. And, my workers had a good time; they couldn't believe it when the bell rang. Ha... I'm an awesome sweatshop hustler.

dramedy of errors

I left for work at 6:54am; it's the latest I've left all year. On the way, a train passed-- the second train crossing of the year. And, I drove behind a guy going 35mph in a 45 mph zone that's impossible to pass. Most people go 55 or 60. Despite the rough start, I had a fabulous day for the most part. My neck aches. But, I started the ball rolling on getting a Girls on Track at my school. It looks like it will be great. And, I made reservations for the Chief and me to go on a spiritual retreat in mid-July. And, I have this incredibly strong desire to go to India. Yea, I didn't see it coming either. Now, I must go home and grade papers. No planning period tomorrow and grades are due Monday.

wired

Exhausted and overwhelmed. I have so much to do that I need to write a to-do list and break it down into manageable chunks. I'm very proud of my sister who swept the awards at her graduate program, but I'm also annoyed with her. I would love to curl up in a private hobbit hole to read, journal, sip herbal tea and eat toast with strawberry preserves for about three days so that I could build up the reserves to survive the next month. But, it's not going to happen. I must go back to the to-do list and write "purge all the abstract ideas that have hijacked my brain's function". I need to write lesson plans and take education courses rather than ponder the bigger question of "creative nonfiction and the merging of fact with imagination". I need to write out all my reactions to Biden's concept of "bending history"-- wtf! I need to run. I need to call multiple friends. I need to do laundry. I need to email numerous parents. All I want to do is read. Reading is a definite escape... my drug of choice.

Today's victory: I finally signed up to give to IJM on a monthly basis and got info on giving to the Pan-African Academy of Christian Surgeons since I'm no tithing to a church because I'm churchless.

graduation= brilliant planning=stress

I haven't studied the transitive property in a while. My sister is receiving her MBA on Monday with the hooding ceremony Sunday night. My sister is stressed out; therefore, all of us are stressed out. She wants us to meet for dinner on Sunday before the ceremony but has yet to reveal the time and place we are to eat said dinner. And, my mom and sister both got hotel rooms, but they happen to be about thirty minutes away from each other. Yeh, sometimes picking up a phone and chatting can be good. She has everybody on a need-to-know basis, which makes us less concerned about details because we don't have any-- not that very many details concern us anyway. (Sometimes I wonder where my sister's genetics came from-- her temperment is definitely an outlier in our family.) So far, the Chief has locked her keys into her trunk, and I've had the audacity to get sick. So, that may mean I don't make the cut for karoake tonight after P's barbeque party at 5pm. My brother is still about an hour away-- so we're going to be late. But, who wants to go to a BBQ party with a bunch of strangers for five hours anyway?

My family has bungled every single one of our graduations. We're always late and discombobulated. At least two people are uber uptight (I was one at my high school graduation). I didn't bother to go to my grad school graduation; I read the commencement speach in Crux.

My sister's blood pressure must be really high today. Don't worry: I have cold medicine, and they'll be serving beer and bourbon. I need to be concerned about maintaining my equilibrium and good humor-- demonstrate the personal responsibility that I harp on my students about.

Asides: I got fried pigskins at the vending machines at the rest stop on I-40 East. I thought, "How southern!" until I read the "chicacharrones" in bigger print on the label. Ah, a little cross-cultural action, friends. They are tastey with cerveza.

I will nap now.

strawberry fields

I picked strawberries with D after a long, exhausting, stressful day. It was fun and relaxing. Strawberry picking counts as cross training, right? My birthday goal is to have more fun!

Now, I'm going to see if Books A Million has a copy of The Hobbit with pictures. My fourth grader likes pictures. Wish me luck. I think I might have better luck swinging by the Good Will.

figuring things out

I manuever through the copious red tape of education with the grace of a haggard drunk. I stumble across effective practice and good ideas like he'd run into a pole. For instance, I was lamenting the chunk of change I was going to lay down for classes I won't receive credit but have to have to get licensed. I started at a private college that charged $980 for a 3 credit hour class, then I stumbled upon a state school that charges $375, and then I landed on a community college that charges $162. The difference is staggering (keeping with my metaphor). I have nothing to prove: I have decent degrees-- I'm going for the cheapest because they are all online. Although I might splurge and take Grammar in Modern English at my Alma Mater. It's a little sick, but I'm excited about the grammar course.

I administered my first standarized test today. It was 141 minutes of stressful tedium. The test was fine and boring, but as soon as it was my students morphed into wild banshees. Of course, three of my wildest kids have run out of their ADHD medicine. Yowsers.

P.S. I loathe all forms of administration and record-keeping.

grad party and mother's day

Data:
Thursday: began Hobbit with kid I tutor, dined out with newly MBA course-work complete sister and Mom.
Friday night: micro-brewery and Symphony. It was good.
Saturday: 8 mile run, b-day breakfast at Cracker Barrel with Sis, mani & pedi, Grad party, drinks, failed venture to karaoke, dead tired.
Sunday: late arrival to church, dramatic entrance to front row (thanks, Mom), gourmet burgers, hilarity and hijinks, shopping at Tiffany's for S's grad present (very breakfast at tiffany's), desert with Aunt, siblings and Mom.

Analysis:
I've reached a work-life balance by accident/necessity. I'm starting to sift the center from the margins as an act of survival. It's good for me to be busy. My brain is still in hyperdrive, but I don't have the downtime to freak out. Note to self: running/training is something I cannot cut out and maintain sanity.

People are the one thing that the Bible states are in the image of God. How do I live that?

I'm excited about Summer Vacation but already dreading how brief it will be... and how busy I'll be. I need to learn how to pluck the day from my friends who live very much in the now. Being present is a spiritual discipline.

I gave a killer toast to my sister.

Due to my lack of internet, I'm very behind in my communication with very dear friends.

I really enjoy my family. I'm realizing how lucky I am to say that.

long and fast

This is the week that never ends. It keeps going on and on my friends. By Wednesday 7pm while I was still in my classroom, I felt like I'd accomplished enough already for it to be Friday night. But, no.

I'm exhausted and still have so much to do. My sister's graduation party is on Saturday. I have Symphony tickets for Friday night and promised my friend we'd go out to eat before the concert. Tuesday I had small group then went to my school's choral concert (I'm skipping the band concert tonight-- I couldn't stomach the squawking and honking this late into the week). And, I have my half marathon training to scrunch between the bedlam of work and my "social" life. I need to buy a plane ticket to Vancouver really soon, but the lack of internet service is making that difficult. Maybe I'll join AAA because my car with 254k miles and they could find me a flight. Do you get good deals through them?

Apparently my uncle reported about my party to my sister, "It's like B said. The people who were at J's party really love J." I think the kayaking, cookout and monsoon weren't necessarily his party format of choice. He also said, "It was cold and wet." And, it was... at the very end.

All this whining is to say, I think this level of business is helping to prioritize and not lose sleep over any one thing. Although I did wake up at 2:30 am last night petrified that none of my kids are going to pass the state test. We shall see.

This is such an interesting period of life utterly different from last year this time. Now I need to go home and mix cow manure and lyme into my soil and plant my 6 grape tomato plants and cross train. My second annual patio garden will provide some continuity. Only four more weeks. And miles and miles before we sleep. Yowsers.

pirating days

I no longer have "free internet" at my house. There's a long drawn out edition of the story that includes cocaine and drug dogs (which I slept through), but I might get shot if I tell it. A sad explanation of the spotty posting. It'll be at school or coffee shops. It's odd, but our county has blocked all private emails and facebook, etc., but we can get onto blogger.

My favorite 30 year old quotation so far is "I'm 30 but I read at a 34 year old's level," Dana Carvey said.

I'm going to spend the next hour organizing. Teaching has put the spot light on my loose organization. I not only have to keep up with my stuff, but 65 kids and 3 secretaries, 2 bosses and 1 mentor, etc. I could write a book on the mating habits of copy paper and their evil offspring: papers that need to be graded that spawn launched paper balls.

the big three OH!

I'm not sure why I decided to have a party. It turned out to be a good idea fraught with lots of work (but definitely worth it). We met on the Catawba River and kayaked, played whiffle ball, and cooked out. The older people played cards, and my uncle read Dostyeovksy's The Idiot in a foldable chair by the river. This is all to say it was low key. Twas lucky to have a beer tasting on the same grounds. All my guests had a couple of cups of microbrewed beer for free before hitting the kayaks. One person out of twenty was on time, and it was all good.

The weather was pleasant until the monsoon hit while we were eating our local, organic burgers. A lightning storm hit while we were gathered under a tin roof. It wouldn't have been that bad except for the tropical storm level winds. Everybody got soaked due to the fact that there were no walls. G said, "You're never going to forget your 30th party." "Neither are you," I replied.

The food was good. But, my favorite part of the whole shindig were my guests. My friends are such lovely folk and good sports to boot. When I was asked what the rain plan was, I answered, "You get wet." Little did I know how prophetic my smart ass comment would be. I'm such an enigma: a majority of my present were books, followed by UNC paraphenalia and then green and blue jewelry and clothes. And, the other odd detail was the drunk 47 year old woman who crashed the party because somebody had taken her keys (must have been a beer-tasting casualty).

Last night I slept like the proverbial log because I remained faithful to my training plan (6 miles yesterday before 8 am) and kayaked. Today, I ate birthday cake for breakfast, went to church, took a nap in lieu of the planned journal writing at the botanical gardens. Now I need to clean and organize and work for next week.

I always imagined I'd have it together by the time I was thirty. Ha. I don't feel mature enough to be twenty five; I guess I should make a habit of SPF 45 to compensate for the disparity in my age and compentencies! I need to come up with some goals for the year. Maybe to laugh more and listen better and listing to-do. Most people assure me that their thirties were/are an improvement on their twenties. I hope so.

satin pillowcase and tilapia

are a few of my favorite things. My sewing instructor took me out to dinner to celebrate my birthday tonight. The Chief and G's husband came too. I ate tilapia. She made me a Carolina blue satin pillowcase with lace trim. It's gorgeous and will be good for my hair and skin. I went for a run in lieu of crosstraining-- running is so much easier and faster. Maybe I'll try to follow the training manual tomorrow. Hmm.

So, I read the first chapter in Lottery Rose to my classes yesterday, and today I read the first chapter in The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. Then, I let them vote on which story to read. Both classes voted for Striped Pajamas. It must be because it's a movie... or perhaps it's the lighter tone. They both have very heavy themes. Plus, I think we're prone to enjoy first person narration in these post mod times.

Getting the planning done for my my unofficial birthday party. I bought a whiffle ball (with bright blue bat) set and a red kickball. I'm hoping that the isolated thunderstorms slated for Saturday afternoon will be somewhere else other than the Catawba from2-7pm. They're calling for 80 degrees-- that's ideal.

I found out the Vancouver Half Marathon is two weeks after the Tofino one. Should I stay a little longer and run that one too? Decisions. Decisions.

new day

The past few school days have run smoothly, which is so relaxing. I don't come home with all my stores depleted-- a hollow shell of a human being. I come home and part of the day's festivities are already humorous. I have plans on how to spend my time after school. I had the energy to grade and work right after school.

Run update: Saturday's long run went brilliantly-- faster and longer than planned. Sunday went for a great 20 minute run when I should have been resting, but the run felt great. The genius runs caught me today. Fifteen minutes out I was really light headed and bodied. I must not have eaten enough today. Running, rowing and swimming function as appetite depressants for me. I needed to eat more snacks... maybe tomorrow. In college, I'd set an extra alarm clock an hour before my real one so that I could drink an Ensure before practice. If I drank it too close, then it would upset my stomach. The only thing worse than a 5am practice is being nauseated during a 5am practice.

I went shopping with my mom yesterday. She got some really cool pieces for my sister's various graduation fetes. It was fun to watch her try on the clothes. She found some pieces that she'll thoroughly enjoy.

I also realized how and gloom and doom I've become as I described my day as "freakishly good". I had a incredibly fun conversation with my brother today; he cracks me up.

5 more projects!

I awoke at 6:30 and ran at 7:30 before it got hot. Then, I went fabric shopping. I found a great pencil skirt pattern (I've decided they look more professional and sleek than A-line). This will be my fifth pattern; this will be my limit for the next while. I'd rather master the four major ones than branch out. These patterns suit my body, lifestyle and ability. Plus, it'll make dressing easier. So far, projects slated for late spring/early summer: white pencil skirt, white wide leg pants, khaki skirt, khaki wide leg pants, and a flax multi-colored pencil skirt-- all washable. The cotton I bought for the white pencil skirt is fabulous. We washed and dried it, and it needed no ironing (it has to be a blend). I already love this skirt and I've only cut it out. I think I might go back and buy up some more yards of the this exciting, low maintenance fabric. It has a nifty, subtle white on white pattern and would make a chic sheath and pants. Granted, it means I'll have to line each piece, but that's okay if I'll never have to iron them! The alchemy between the rectangle piece of fabric and the piece fascinates me. The pieces never fail to confound me. They either exceed my expectations or come out with me asking, "I thought this was a good idea?"

As I approach my birthday, I have a reflex of going into "year in review" mode. This year was dominated by my first year teaching, but I realized that the most enjoyable aspect has been learning to sew. Sewing alleviates that constant nagging feeling I have about my uselessness. I'm by nature abstract, so it's fabulous to have projects that have products beside typed papers with a letter assigned. Hopefully one day, I'll be proficient enough to be able to whip up concoctions for family and friends. A dress would make a great graduation present for my sister.

And, I hemmed my new dress. The hem's power to transform awes me. It's the same for darts. Geez, Louise and I are amazed at how minor changes have exponential payoff. There's a life metaphor/moral in there somewhere. I think I'll start replacing the "butterfly effect" with "hem effect" or "dart effect" to an audience of befuddled stares.

My long run went smoothly. I'm glad I ended up going so early; it got hot. We've fast-forwarded to summer.

flat tire

Yesterday was one of my best teaching days yet! I nipped discipline problems in the bud while remaining chipper. The kids wrote page long journals about their life in 20 years. They engaged in conversation about oxymorons and paradoxes. The classes were quick paced. The students and I were amazed at our efficiency.

Today was okay. I'm learning how to relax in the disfunction and chaos. Things are never as they should be. The copier is always jammed or busy with 10 page packets when I'm working with tight margins. My planning-period ward needed much one on one work with prepositional phrases. Today as we were writing down literary terms to play bingo, I could see the kids get excited about how much they learned. They wouldn't stop spouting terms even though it meant more work. They were having fun. But, the natives are restless with the weather gorgeous.

But, the highlight of this teaching week has come during Walk and Talk. My 12 and 13 year olds are enthralled by the catepillars. They pick them up and play with them: they have the critters crawl up sticks. So, there are a couple of boys we had to say, "Don't step on them." But, for the most part they're gentle and curious with them. Seeing my little punks play with catepillars makes me appreciate them more. It reminds me that there's more to them than bravado, whining, body humor and sexual innuendo. I got to see them as precious little kids delighting in fuzzy worms.

This afternoon as I was hurrying to meet the Chief in order to meet my sister for dinner, I realized I had a flat. I could hear and feel it. Thankfully, the custodian was out dealing with trash. He fixed it with only a few comments about how dang hot it was. I gave him the towel I had in my gym bag, which helped a little.

I went to the place I bought the tires with the donut. They replaced the tire; whatever metal I ran over tore up the inside of the tire. Yay, for warranties and good customer service. I need to get Triple A for my car. It's common sense when your car has over 254k miles on it one might think.

I finished Jean Ferris's Bad tonight. I felt a large part of the book was about the power of literature in a reader's life. I got a list of books I'd like to read from it (Road to Oz). The protagonist's teacher assigns her books, which she falls in love with in juvie hall. I enjoyed it, and, more importantly, I think my kids will. I now have to create a Reading Guide. Then, I've started Sebestyen's Word by Heart. It's a powerful story, but I wonder if the setting and diction will mess with my kids.

Slated for tomorrow: long run and sewing. Don't I sound like a hip 60 year old-- not to mention I ordered something from Talbot's this week. And, I'm so ready for bed. Note to self: I hang out with the Chief and her sister altogether too much.

moderately unique

I had a quality conversation with my sister this afternoon. It was intense, intimate and spiritual. We're close because closeness has been forced on us and has become habit. And, there is the bizarre and true adage, "blood is thicker than water." We talked about experiencing God, disruptive thinking, moderate uniqueness and being grown-ups. It was a summative conversation-- one for the annals.

I received the feedback from my final formal observation today: I showed growth and am completely up to speed (well at least in my HR folder). I took the Chief out to dinner to celebrate.

I've been remarkably happy the past couple of days. It's similar to the euphoria of falling in love. But, there's no said guy. I'm thinking it's either hormonal or a giant relief of the completion of the school year on the horizon.

So far, Day 5 of my half-marathon training is going well. I'm sore from last night's Body Pump; I'm glad I stuck to the weenie weights. Strength conditioning counts as cross-training, doesn't it?

Schools going well. I think I've finally acclimated to the environment and stress. I'm less prone to being overwhelmed.

weekend's accomplishments

I accomplished fun this weekend. Lots of fun. I got in a lot of exercise (running, weightlifting, walking), book club (the conversation actually played into several choices I've made this weekend), "Sunshine Cleaning", sushi, church (and a hymn earlier than the 10th Century). I helped my aunt move offices on Saturday, which sounds like work, and enjoyed it. I hadn't seen her in a while, and mindless labor is cathartic at times.

I went to bed at 10pm on Friday and Saturday nights, which contributed to the dirth of blogging. I got no school work accomplished. So, that will account for my Monday and Tuesday nights. But, sleep is so very good. I feel much more peaceful, relaxed and hopeful. Overwhelming crisises don't loom in every crook and cranny when I'm rested.

I decided to train for the Half Marathon after realizing I'm no longer in good enough shape to wing anything over five miles. This decision kind of surprised me, but the resolve has energized me... and settle a lot of my school angst. I'm now feeling the weight of my humanity in more than my job. Balance is good. And, I chatted with my sewing instructor. It sounds as if we're both ready to get back in the proverbial saddle.

My writing has fallen to the way side, but I rationalize this state of affairs by saying living a full satisfying life provides fodder. For instance, the Chief and I lost the phone today, but finally discovered it in a Nordstrom's bag. The first time I called it, I got a busy signal.

Can you tell how I'm experimenting with syntax? I'm trying not to frontload sentences with prepositional phrases and such. I'm trying this a little longer, but then will try to integrate the two styles.

wrap around porch

I drove over to a friend's after work. My offering was ice cream sandwiches because she asked for something like and has a sixth grader. N who's been in Germany since August brought beer. We ate enchiladas and salads and drank beer. Then we moved outside onto the porch and sat in Adirondacks. An owl perched in the huge tree. It was beautiful and awesome and huge. I couldn't believe when I looked at the clock and it was nine. Yikes, I'd arrived at 5:30. I'm behind on my TDL, but 'twas well worth it.

revamp

I need to revamp busy-- to figure out the architecture of balance. It pains me to reach this point, but I think I need a schedule. I was so productive in high school, and it was due to the structure of my time. Breakfast check in was by 7:45 am. Study hall was from 8-9:30. Sports 3:30-5:30. Lights out was at 11. Everything was so nice and slotted. I still managed to have a ton of fun and down time: it was called the weekend.

Structure and order are not a bad thing. I need a time budget in order to prioritize my priorities. It sucks when I get to the end of the day and am too exhausted to read or journal. And, it's my own fault. I'm responsible for letting myself get to the point where I resent my job. I think this schedule thing will function as a type of boundary.

We shall see. Today was a day that made me consider a leave of absence. But, it was redeemed by the meeting after school-- they fed us Outback chicken, salad and potato. The restaurant donated it to the new teachers. And, the Junior League donated cook books. Awesome.

hatchin' a plot, schemin' a scheme

and listening to the new U2. Tonight after meeting with the accredidation/certification specialist for my LEA and discussing the courses I need to take to get certified, I'm jazzed about the classes I have to take. For instance, a college level grammar class is on the list. Is that cool or what? And, we're talking adolescent literature and European history and some other groovy classes. Then, there's middle school methodology. I have a deep-seated disdain for people who use the word "methodology" over "methods" in the same manner I loathe "utilize" over "use" and "distinctive" over "distinct" or the word "unique". They're loaded with pretense and self-importance and lack basic logic and understanding.

And, this excitement over classes is balancing out the hope that's expanding in my soul's defunct hope factory. I'm writing cover letters to schools where I'd love to teach and in cities where I'd love to live and subjects I'd love to teach. It's encouraging to apply to these schools that are out of my league. Writing these letters reminds me of all of the stuff out in the world that I long to do. I'm not dried and shrivelled yet. But, the letter-writing is reminding me of the things I have to offer and spurring me to take classes to keep growing. So, I'm trying to framing this experience as movement in the right direction. I'll probably be here another year, but I'll be more practiced with applications and interviewing and more learned.

School wasn't that bad today. When I started to get panicky and weepy, I wrote a list of small tasks to accomplish, and it got me back on track.

Plus, I'm considering joining a master's rowing team to get my butt in shape and meet some people I have something in common with.

Easter 2009

skipped Easter 2007 due to the hijinks of time zones, flying from Charlotte Douglas to Narita. After that miss, I promised myself that I'd be home and in church if at all possible for Christmas and Easter. This morning was beautiful. Virginia kept saying, "This is the day the Lord has made!" He is risen! Church was packed. The sermon prickled, which is what a sermon is supposed to do. You're supposed to feel a little uncomfortable in my estimation. Spending time with Virg is a reminder of what my grandpa said, "If you live, you're going to get old." And the Easter sermon was a reminder that frailty and death are NOT natural. God did not intend for us to suffer this way, but he allowed his son to die for us. This Easter functioned as an alarm clock for a busy day.

It was fun to see everybody in their Easter finery. It was good to spend time with my family. And we shopped for earrings, bracelets and necklaces from my sister's Nica hope jewelry. Fashion with a heart.

home made

Love's been on my mind lately. More specifically, I've been mulling over the difference between real love and ideal love. While growing up, my mother always said, "You have to accept love the way people give it, and it's rarely the way you'd like." My grandpa bought me Ensure by the case when I was rowing in college because he thought I'd gotten too skinny. He never used the L word; he'd always tell me that he was proud of me.

I realize I'm expecting the wrong thing. Love is newborn awkward-- precious and cute but vulnerable and unruly. It's home-made awkward-- every batch comes out different. It's custom not standardized. It's humble and easily overlooked. It's quiet and gentle making it easily ignored. No soundtracks or sequins or capes to draw attention to it.

For instance, my mom helping me every evening for a week grade papers, plan lessons, organize reviews, pack, clean so that I could go to DC. Her willingness to give up her nights and join with me gave me the energy to plow through the work. And, I enjoyed myself so much-- knowing the cost sweetened the experience.

Then there's E's generosity in sharing her life and house to me for a few days. We shared the old parts of our friendship-- The Olde Brogue, walking, friends and ventured into new territory.

Or the most recent example is J-D and me planning and orchestrating the delivery of the outdoor table and chairs Mom purchased and deemed would fit in my station wagon. (Eyeballing it doesn't always work.) Two trips and 1.5 hours later the apparatus was on Mom's patio.



Then, of course, there's Good Friday and Easter. Nobody was expecting Love (or love) to be so vulnerable and powerful. We celebrate the grace of the cross with pastel bunnies and hot cross buns when it seems splinters and rare meat would be more apropos. Love is both fierce and vulerable, glaring and unpretentious. I'm learning love requires a interpretive mechanism. As I comb through some of my memories, I've recognized points of my history that were infused with love that I was unable to experience at the time. So often the proper responses to love are "yes, please" and "thank you".

This rumination on love also has led to thinking about how I love people. But, that's for another entry.

zoo

Zoo. Hot Chocolate. Sloth Bears. Eager Volunteer. Tacos at Uncle Julio's. Vienna. Tysons One. PF Chang's. Lots of fun. Nippy. Exhaustion. Fun.

happy and snappy

I'm writing this on A's computer in Arlington, VA. I lived a magnificent day! I woke up at 7:30, fed the 12 hour meter, ate breakfast, rode the orange line to the Smithsonian stop. Then, I met S who I haven't seen in 8 years. We had a great time. First thing after the hug, we were accosted by an Australian TV crew for an interview. Come to find out, it was a spoof. I signed the release so that they could use it.

We laughed and joked as we admired the cherry blossoms in the rain. And, we chuckled at our artsy shots of the Tulip Library with Don's Johns in the background. We went to the Natural Science Museum and checked out the Darwin and Orchid exhibit. Then we went to the National Gallery's Sculpture Garden and then the National Gallery. S knows art; I enjoyed her knowledge and observations.

We almost made it to the East building, but lunch and the gift shop stopped us. Lunch was good; we ordered the exact same thing except we got different hot teas. We talked about our lives and goals... and turning 30.

Then she had to go to work. I ended up going to the Freer and Sackler museums. I got really cool Teacher's guides for Islam Art, Ancient China and the Silk Road that incorporate the art into history lessons. They also have the kids produce something.

I then went to the East building and saw the Illuminated Manuscript Exhibit and the Calder room. I took illegal pictures in both; I got fussed at in both. I didn't see any signs.

I went out to eat with A at this nifty "European Fast Food" restaurant. It was delicious, fresh and different.

Then I went to shop for a wedding present for R; I missed his wedding in August. I'll give them: Berry's "Collected Poems", Collins' "Sailing Around the Room Alone" and Eliot's "Four Quartets".

Tomorrow I'm going to the zoo with E.

I'm exhausted; I think Carolina will manage to win this championship without me watching.

tdl, parents and origami

Can I come up with titles or what? I don't beat around the bush; I cut to the chase. My titles are in line with 18th and 19th Century Titles that are about 20 words long, communicating exactly the journey on which you're embarking.

My overwhelming To Do List has been whittled down to reasonable. My departure date of Sunday is eminently reasonable. I feel a sense of accomplishment that I got so much completed-- I still have some to do, but not nearly what it was. I'm still missing some of my students' writing assessments, which makes me nervous. I've scoured my desk and all the papers around my room. So, that's unresolved. But, much of the other work I tore through.

We had parent-teacher conferences from 12-7 tonight. Six parents signed up, and fifteen parents showed up. I was hoping for a little more down time to grade, but some of the meetings were productive. Again I felt the profound differences between my teammate and me; we're different on many levels. However, I had a more rational approach than emotional this time around. It's an interesting spot working as an equal with someone who's twenty years older. Furthermore, our educations, intellects, interests and backgrounds differ. I need to decide whether to ask for a switch now or later.

I'm excited about tomorrow's lesson that integrates Language Arts and Social Studies. We're going to make origami. First, we're going to read the directions and analyze it as an informational text. Then, we're going to make a couple. Then, I'm going to read Sadaku and the 1,000 Paper Cranes. The story will integrate the origami with yesterday's lesson about the atom bomb and Hiroshima. I want to talk about the power of story and art over facts. I want to talk about how origami is a great lesson in Japanese culture (it's slow and kind of pointless, but it's also beautiful and requires a high level of patience and attentiveness). I'm really excited. I hope my kids like it!

This week has been full and good. It's surreal that April is upon us! Surreal and sweet.

back in the game

I've heard people call busyness a narcotic, but I'd also say it is a catharsis too. Busyness allows my brain, which is far too prone to navel-gazing, a reprieve from the internal stare. There's something to be said about the speed of a day that you don't know what's coming next. Today school wasn't so bad. I'm just overwhelmed by the stacks of paper. That's my next project. It has to be. I was getting irked at all the meetings and things I have to do after school this week: faculty meeting on Wednesday, parent conferences until 7:30 on Friday, a meeting in the County office. But, the Chief has been encouraging me to view it as a challenge to overcome rather than an exhausting burden. I'm picturing the writing tests that must be scored, the crap load of meetings, the crap load of grading, the crap load of organizing as hurdles on a 200M straightaway between Washington, DC and me.

The Chief said not to let the bastards to grind me down. She said, "We'll do everything in our power to get you on your vacation." And, she's helping me even more than usual: she's helping me score my papers and urging self-care on me. I would not have made it through this horrendous year without the infatiguable (sp?) support (concrete encouragement) that the Chief dishes out on a daily basis. Hail!

I'll keep you posted on the score between The Man and Me.

Go Heels! My team made it to the Final Four. I'm really pleased for the players who stayed an extra year-- I hope they go all the way!

ooze

I'm still sick, and I'm tired of being sick. And, I realized that a lot of my illness is stress related. My job has worn me down. A friend asked me what I do for fun, and there was a pause afterwards. This afternoon I was thinking about what I like about my job and my mind became a blank slate. I realized that I'm not going to be able to go to DC for Spring Break due to my job, and I started crying. Then, I pulled myself together and applied with a placement company. At least I'm doing something. I need to move somewhere where I can find community and a job that doesn't eat me alive.

And, I found a possible outlet for my writing. We shall see. This is a ray of light in the dismal landscape. I just wish I were decent at something lucrative.

And, I'm going to have to make exercise a priority for health reasons. I think that'll help with the stress. And, I have no idea how to inject fun into my weeks. (Quit my job?)

And, I need to cull things that aren't life-giving, being as I need no help suffocating. "No Exit" seems to be posted on my life right now, which proves that I have little to no faith in God.

Project Manifesto

I've detected a much needed project in my life. It's been poking its head out of a shell. The problem really started mid-way through my second year of Regent. And, my twenties have been rough, which is definitely a contributing factor. But, awareness is the first step. See if you can guess what my project is from these hints... or just me. I think this project properly implemented will make a great difference in the rest of my life.

fodder

Last night I heard this quotation: "Conservatives believe in the freedom from coercion. Liberals believe in the freedom from want." I've been pondering it. Neither is possible; both are problematic. Regardless, the quotation as flawed as it is paints the difference at a fundamental and philosophical level. Conservatives aren't mean-spirited but philosophically opposed to Obama's stances on things. Statism is scary to a lot of us. It reminds me of the distopias I read about in high school: The Handmaid's Tale, Anthem, Animal Farm, etcetera.

sick, oh

I left school at noon yesterday. I felt like crap, and when people asked me what's wrong I said my throat. But, it was this ambiguous, tight, raw, ache feeling through the majority of my body. (This feeling scares me because when I was in Japan I got this kind of sick and had 104 fever for about a week-- it was horrible and I was frightened out of my mind.)

I drove directly to the Minute Clinic about an eighth of a mile from my house and waited for 90 minutes. And, there were kids running around like heathens; I felt like handcuffing them to their ineffective parents. If a kid won't listen to you when she's two, God help all of us when she's thirteen.

Then, they ran some tests: strep, flu, blood. Strep and flu were negative, but my white blood cell count was extremely elevated-- over twice what most people have with strep. I felt somewhat vindicated that I wasn't a complete woos, which was what I was thinking when the other tests came back negative. They took lung x-rays. There's a little something in my right lung, but nothing worthy of the white cell count. He forgot about me a while, then when I reminded him that I was still there, he chatted with me and gave me a prescription and doctor's excuse. He was apologetic he couldn't pinpoint it, but said there was something (probably bacterial) going on. He went on to say this differentiated me from most of the his patients for whom he prescribed a sugar pill. All and all I spent three hours at the minute clinic. Good thing I wasn't dying.

Yesterday, I felt too crappy to do anything. I couldn't read, sleep, eat. I lay in my bed and hurt. I moved to the sofa when the Chief came home so that I'd have some company as I ached. I did scrounge up lesson plans that took over an hour.

I thought I'd take advantage of this window of opportunity (dulled pain and energy) and blog.

work, work, work

Work and weekend: I can tell I'm teaching alliteration. I worked 9 hours this weekend. I didn't take Saturday off, which we'll see if this is a smart move leading to a lower stress week... or a stupid move, leading to burn out. I got stuff done that I consider "Work Day Work": a bulletin board, a game and a poster of an acrostic poem about test-taking. And, it took me five hours, and I'm not finished.

I sometimes feel like the world's most ineffective teacher, and time is how I assuage my guilt. I put in hours of work. I don't know if it makes me any more effective, but the state is getting a splendid deal when you divide my salary by the hours I work.

I"ve been blogging less because of my Lenten promise and a realization of how much time I spend on my computer. I'm not sure my blogging and FB and emailing constitute "REAL" time. So, I'm experimenting how this is affecting my writing, reading and sanity.

I watched two great movies this weekend: "Iron Man" and "Pride and Prejudice". P&P was set in modern times; Jane and Elizabeth were roommates. It was light and entertaining. IM was fantastic.

I have two exciting ideas for stories that I'm going to play with this week. A colleague gave me a free notepad, which inspired me. It's a crazy notepad from an even crazier business venture. And, teaching Haikus gave me the idea of expanding the 17 syllables into stories. I haven't written fiction in a while. We shall see.




While I was working at the Public Library yesterday, a deep-voice announced over the PA that a Vietnamese Music group was going to perform in 5 minutes. I went; it was a crazy experiment. And, i bought a little "Vietenamese instrument". I met my mom and aunt for dinner. My aunt had just been on her first Eharmony date. We got to hear the details. I asked her how it went, and she replied, "He's smitten." I laughed-- that's so my family: seeing a date as a sells pitch. I then asked if she were smitten. She waved her hand and said, "I'd hang out with him again." So, I'm thinking she's not so much.

I attended the Lutheran Church again. I liked the music and readings. The people were friendly. The sermon lame. I think I can see myself going there. I just need to commit by joining a Sunday School or something.


Local flavor. I'm teaching "irony" too. Urban girl, eh?

splurge

I finally slept last night. The sleep tasted delicious, but it was even harder to get up. Ironic?

I've enjoyed breaking in my new clothes and shoes. My students enjoyed my clothes too.

I got a pedicure and manicure so that I am spiffy enough to wear the snazzy clothes.

My afternoon has been rough. The job is more stressful than ever, but I'm adjusting to it. The shock value has decreased. I'm learning to chant: c'est la vie; God is good.

Last night a friend taught the book of Ruth. He reminded me how important it is how we frame our story.

My favorite church marquis has a great quotation: "Get rich quick: count your blessings." It's a good, cheesy reminder. But, it helps me focus on the miniscule victories-- the positive. The couple of sponges who sit in my class rather than the sea of adversaries.

sidetracked

I had noble plans for today. I went to church, met my mom for lunch and went to Nordstrom's for a pair of sandals that she saw last week. That's where I wander off the black and white ideals of my illustrious plan. Said sandals were nowhere to be found. So, I found two other pairs of shoes: adorable and expensive. Then, we went to find a handbag to keep my shoes company because of the law of consumerism that goes like this Visas in motion tend to stay in motion. Found an awesome over the top bag... and a polka dot dress... and yellow dangle earrings... and a third pair of shoes. I enjoyed the time with my mom, and I felt very patriotic as I spent money in our depressed economy. My Visa is a check card so I'm not paying interest.

And, I love U2's No Line on the Horizon. The lyrics are really good. U2 make aging appear a good thing. They're cranking out new, amazing stuff rather than giving tours reliving their glory days from 20 years ago.

So, tomorrow I will grade the papers and do some of the paperwork I'd slated to do this afternoon. I'm trying to enjoy the time I spent with my mom and the deals I found instead of feeling guilty for not working the six or so hours I normally pull on a weekend. Being a teacher is a lot like being a student-- there's always a little dark rain cloud of work and guilt in your line of sight.

speed

Tuesday I left after 6:50 for work. I usually leave between 6:37-6:43. So, as irony had it, I was pulled over by a cop. I pulled out my license and sat patiently as he ran my license plate. He came up and asked if I knew I was speeding. I told him that I was just following the truck in front of me. He replied, "That can get you into trouble." To which I responded, "Apparently." As he studied my license, he told me I was racing at 45 through a 20 and 35 zone. I was quiet because I was in the wrong and in a hurry. I did manage to throw in "I teach" into an answer. I'm glad to report he let me off with a warning, and I have been really good at not speeding for the past five days. This following the law is going to take a change in habit. I'm giving up speeding for Lent. I try to think about the other people involved in my route (for instance the people who live in the houses along the road.)

School news: The real problem kid got removed from my team. But, after school on Friday when he came back from the suspension, he threw something and hit me in the head. When I marched him up to the principal's office, he was muttering expletives and threats to me. I hope this is enough to get him into counseling. He's a smart kid, but he's got some anger and emotional issues. And, another kid "shot" me in class. I can't imagine having done that when I was in 7th grade, but that's neither here nor there. My teachers didn't have jeans day either. But, my afternoon block went well. We discussed Gandhi, wrote scary stories, and explicated a poem.

Phone news: I caught up with a good Regent friend on Wednesday night. My brother came home Thursday night. And, I chatted with my cousin on Friday night. I miss having interaction with males; they have a different (which makes it useful) perspective. My time with these dear guys encouraged me.

Books: My book club failed to meet this week, which was discouraging. But, I finally read A Theology of Reading all the way through. It's a rigorous, worth-while read. I'm going to be mulling over several of his points for the rest of my life I imagine. The book was talking about applying the Law of Love to reading, creating a hermeneutic of love or charitable reading. All his examples from literature and his discussing of the history and philosophy of interpretation was fascinating. I came away with "loving attentiveness" and engaging in conversation, and willingness to be changed. He also got me thinking about the Christian concept of will, what love is, and how language of rights have usurped the language of love in our culture (and the implications).

Today I finished "Fat Kid Rules the World". It's a hilarious, beautiful book. It's a small-scale Confederacy of Dunces. It's episodic, character sketches. The first person narrator was excellent. It was painfully awkward and achingly beautiful. It was quick and compact. Troy, "Big T", is a 300 pound high school senior. He's miserable, and he meets a punk rocker as he contemplates jumping in front of a subway train. It's an unlikely friendship. The characters are cartoonish in nature, but somehow she breathes life and believability into them. Fat kid learns to play the drums. The book deals with addiction, abuse, obesity and other very raw and very real issues. I recommend it highly, esp for kids who are social misfits and/or are into music. There's obscenity but it fits the characters. One of my favorite lines is: "I'd spent years waiting for those exact words and it never once occured to me to give them away." There were parts of the book that resonated with me a little too much.

I started Lewis' Great Divorce tonight. What a beautiful and thought-provoking book. It's our next selection in book club.

I had a lazy day today. I've felt jet-lagged all week due to daylight saving time. My sleep schedule has been off. So, I think my laziness is a result of that.

Lent sacrifice: I'm not succeeding with my vow to forgo internet, but I am reading more of my Bible daily. And, it's pinpointed that internet is a definite point of time suckage for me.

words heavy and old

"Language reveals the man. Speak that I may see thee," said Ben Jonson. This quotation is a close relation to Lincoln's "It is better to stay silent and let people think you are an idiot than to open your mouth and remove all doubt." As somebody with a big mouth and as a recent recipient of the aftermath of a wagging tongue, I am experiencing the Scripture's truth about talking too much, too self-indulgently.

Wichtenstein wrote, "Words are deeds." And, as I chew on all these words on words, the phrase "pondered in her heart" comes to mind. Mary pondered things in the seat of her motivation, will, emotion and intellect. I play it off as if I'm a "verbal processor" and an extremely slow and inefficient one at that. But, there's something profound at stake that I dismiss too lightly with that flippant retort.

Our language and communication are undergoing a shift. We're converting to movies instead of books. Our spelling, punctuation and grammar are becoming far more casual. We've grown lazy and apathetic even in our vocabulary. Imprecise diction is common. We prefer instant gratification to the painstaking effort of writing precisely what we mean-- txt instead of letter writing. Perhaps there's a degree of inflation involved with the words we encounter on a daily basis. There's no devotion to the family tree of a word, etymology. We're coining words to decipher our advances in technology. But, we're no longer learning Greek and Latin. We're becoming a society of men without chests and ideas without roots (in history).

This afternoon I savored my brother's barb: "Ok, F. Scott. You remind me of a dorm master with no students, how zen like!" I enjoy witty banter as much as the next person. But, is this wrong? Is silly bad? It's just words with a different valence.

I need to be attentive to my words' weight. Venting should probably be directed toward prayer. Venting is self-indulgent in my case. And, as I taught Buddhism today, I thought about how meditation in Christianity isn't a goal of cessation of thought but of transformation of thought. James Houston called it a "psalmic consciousness". We believe our Savior is the Word and we're called to imitate him.

My rambling is a bit ironic considering the subject.