chats, grilled cheese, hope, art and "art"

Tattooed Pigs Fly

Origami Tree!!!

Tools: For the man who has everything

My "weekend" is Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.  It's a little weird but doable.  It's a great schedule for looking for a job.  This "weekend" really flew by.

A Hoot

Tuesday was wrapped up in talking with this headmaster of a school in Seattle.  Don't misinterpret: I'm a long ways away from accepting a job offer.  But, I wanted to chat with someone before I embarked on the rather daunting application process.  There are several essays and such... it reminded me of college apps really.  After discussing with the head of school, I decided the essays would be a good exercise for me anyway; they'd help me clarify what I have to offer and what I want from a position. I cannot tell you how pivotal this conversation was in my perspective, compounded with some letters and journaling I did this past week.  I even bought a 2013 All Sport Season's Pass at the White Water Center.  I want to go at least once a week!

Cupcake Tree!

Chill Wednesday: my shoulders hurt when I went to bed and hurt when I woke up so I got an hour long CHINESE MASSAGE, which put me in a mood for a great hike, received an email about teaching English in Rwanda this summer!!!!, curse at fellow drivers while I listen to the Gospel of John on CD (I'm that bad but so was their driving), consider the irony, brow wax, discuss providence, good works, tattoos, nose rings, meet a good friend at one restaurant, apologize to bartender and leave for half-price wine at another one, fall in love with Llama Malbec, buy a hat at Nordstrom's, read some in Les Mis.

one of the misses

before they were dry

Grilled Cheese Thursday: got up at 6 am, chatted and read, went back to bed.  Woke up second time at 10:13am to two  calls from my favorite neighbor. called neighbor back and made lunch plans. bought one pound of  Neese's Extra Sage Sausage. went to lunch with neighbor ate a Blackberry Brie Grilled Cheese with Tomato Basil soup at Spindle City.  proceeded across the street to the Art Guild.  chatted with the artist and enjoyed the broad range of art.  some were hits and some were misses.  Impressed my favorite neighbor; she asked me, "Were you pulling that lady's leg? Were you just making that up?" I told her, "I did take some art in college, but I mostly shot from the hip."  Fav neighb responded, "Well, we made her day." Made work-intensive, dry Sausage balls. Drove to the String Bean to meet a friend who ended up getting lost.  Drank a beer and journaled the hour away. Ate another grilled cheese.  Had a great conversation about the Hobbit, demons, smartphones.  Thoroughly enjoyed our friendship.

Pillow Cake= Comfort Food?

the wormy scarflet

Like most of my endeavors, there's a distinct hit-or-miss factor to my knitting.  What I lack in talent, I make up for in ingenuity and ignorance. I'm pleased with my latest "creation".  I don't even know what I should call it.  Scarflet? Mini scarf with button? Neck-knit?

Ingredients:
two funky yarns that Joy spun together for me.
1 faux-celtic button.
1 plain button.
Some black stretchy string.
Ribbon.
An old scarf my mom bought for me in Wilmington at an arts fair.

I think I like knitting.  I'm not really interested in intricate patterns or all the different types of knitting.  I'm really interested in the materials, juxtaposition, and color.  I need pretty, soft yarn to get me interested in a project.

I may go to the yarn store tomorrow to stock up on some more chunky yarn to make some scarflets for Christmas presents.

It feels awesome: warm and snuggly.  I need to get someone to my picture while I'm wearing it.

back in the saddle

Today, I knitted.  I was nodding off while listening to a brilliant lecture on the Gospel of John in a Post Modern Context and thought, "This should not be!"  I needed something so to keep me awake because coffee wasn't doing the trick.  Voila, my discarded scarf from June.  It was mindless enough to keep me engaged in the lecture, and mindful enough to keep me awake.

Then, after my brilliant run, I went to the knitting store and asked her how much further I had to go.  She said at least 18 inches.  Then, she preceded to tell me that I needed to correct this glitch about 8" down because it would unravel if I didn't.  She showed me how to fix it.  It was cool and depressing how easy it was to unravel that much work-- it seemed pretty true to life.  Now, I have enough knitting to last me several lectures.  I really want a new pair of knitting needles.  Straight ones.

I'm interested to see how the running and knitting interrelate in my life.  Will it be too much space-out time?  Will I become an alcoholic?  Stay tuned.

Progress

the scarf?

My knitting project is getting longer... and inexplicably wider. I think I'm getting faster. It's nice to have a tangible product. I have my next class tomorrow night, so I will try to get at least another 5 rows done. It'd be awesome if I got 20 rows done! Bam, I'd show the preacher's wife. Ha. ha. ha.

My speed work out went splendidly. Yay :) I think 7:21 wasn't fast enough for the speed workouts; I ended doing 1.5 extra, adding incline and lowering the speed. I'm interested to see how the tempo workout goes on Thursday. Tomorrow I'm not going to do the 5-7 miles. I'd like to swim and/or row for an hour to get the cardio but save the pounding on my legs. We shall see.

I found my one-year bible while unpacking my books. I've been reading Joshua in tandem with Luke. Joshua's all busy slaughtering people and Jesus is besting Pharisees in battles of wit. It's an interesting juxtaposition and explains why Augustine and others were so keen on nonliteral interpretations of scripture. How are you supposed to read God ordained genocide? It makes sense to apply it in terms of rooting out sin: Ananaius and Sapphira style in the NT.

Progress is slow and tedious... a lot like knitting. But, every once in a while you catch a glimpse of change or improvement that makes it worthwhile.

And, finances are feeling more doable. I'm not sure how I'm going to accomplish them, but I now have concrete goals.

too much of a good thing?

"learning curve"

The knitting class lived up to my expectations. I was the "special student". I had a 2:1 teacher-student ratio. But by the end of the intense tutorial that lasted thirty minutes longer than everybody else's, I had an idea what I was supposed to do. It was helpful to hear two people explain it. I have to say the pharmacist- former chemistry teacher's really anal directions were the most helpful. She would narrate what I was doing and correct me as I go. She gave me pointers about the yarn always being to the right and paying attention to the tension of the string. The other girl helped me break it into steps. She also told me I was going to be a natural. I think I'll like knitting; it'll be a good past time for when there's too much background commotion to read. And, i may become good enough to knit Christmas and fall and winter birthday presents.

a close up of my knitting genius

*****
The job took. They like me, and I like them. It's a physical job: I come home dirty, sweaty and tired. But, I get to chat while I sweat. I really enjoy the ladies with whom I work. They're very protective of me. A customer was snippy with me, an she jumped on him: "There's no need to be rude to us." I love the "us". Everybody works hard. I'm still in the honeymoon phase, but I feel I have a lot to learn from these women. They seem to be pretty good at being content and putting others first.

*****
The first interview of the week went fairly well today. There were a lot of people. I didn't have the best 5-minute lesson, but it was good. I didn't have cute visual aids that worked with the impact of roads on the success of the Roman empire. But, I did have the shock factor. There was this one guy who was a punk to the girl who taught about Christopher Columbus. Yeah, the political and technological history of the Roman Empire exceeded his pay grade. Good luck: I was in line to go first with my lesson, but a fellow Heel volunteered which put me going 7th. I did some good brainstorming while watching the other people teach their lessons. Bad luck: I got the last interview slot and had a lot of down time between the first part of my day and the last part. I got really hungry.

farm

I went to a farm yesterday with my mom. It was out near where I grew up, and I've known the owners since I was a baby. It was weird to go out in the country. It's still gorgeous but seems smaller. They paved the road on which I grew up. I liked it as a dirt road.

We went for ground beef, but we bought sorghum molasses instead. No doubt you can figure out what happen. The lady tried to sell us beef sausage. No offense, but that sounds kind of nasty. However, I've never had it. It may be the most awesome sausage EVER, and I am totally missing out. So, I feel legitimately Southern with my molasses.

And, I've been walking instead of running, which takes more time but is more relaxing. Well, a different kind of relaxing.

I have a first date on Tuesday to the art museum that I'm very excited about. Now, I'm wondering what I should wear. Dress? Skirt? Black pants? Jeans? It's going to be fairly warm. It can't be any worse than my interviews, right?

I watched three movies recently: Cape of Good Hope, Northanger Abbey and Like Water for Elephants. I listed them in order of preference. I didn't really like the last one.

Oh, how could I forget: I made 15 bean soup that actually tastes really good.

This is all, of course, is juxtaposed with real news: North Korean leader Kim Jong Il, 69, has died. Will his son be a better leader than he?

5 books and nothing

So as I continue to hunt jobs to no avail, I need income. People aren't interested in my teaching services, so I had to think about what I have that somebody else might find valuable. Books. More precisely, some of my books. I went through my books and chose ones that I could part with and checked if they have any value on Amazon. A lot of them had no value, but some of them were worth over $50.

On Wednesday, I sold five books! I got really excited because one was a text book at $45, which made all the 4-5 buck books feel more worthwhile. I think I could definitely get into selling books, but I'm not sure it's the equivalent to a job. It's more in line with a hobby. I love to buy (and read) books. So, I've made arrangements to get my books out of storage and see if how many of them I would want to and could sell.

Today and yesterday have been rough. I'm realizing I don't have a really close friend and Charlotte with whom I could share. The last time I talked with someone about being unemployed, she asked me for a loan within two weeks of the conversation. It felt wrong on so many levels.

People are great at giving out vague encouragement and giving me ideas for jobs. I'm not substituting because that is hell on earth-- maybe for $1000/day. But, that's not the going rate. And, people talk about adjunct positions. I really need to know somebody at the schools. It's disheartening to apply to a job for several hours and not even get a response.

There's a part of me that really wants to start a business, which the posting-books-on-Amazon thing has really tapped into. My sister the marketer told me that I'm right on trend with selling my stuff; she even sent me an article. I've been thinking of different ideas. I like books, clothes, teaching and Christian spirituality. I'd really like to get some kind of online co-op/rental local thing going. I'm thinking with fancy clothes, juicers, tents, etc. People could list them and other people could rent them. Somewhere between Craig's List and Zilok and retalicand even Etsy and blog on 30 plus online clothing rental. Or, a clearing house for teachers who want to tutor and parents who need tutors. I would charge a small fee to the teachers, but it would allow them to make a lot more money (probably twice) than working for a tutoring company. So, I need to research all the different businesses and see the feasibility for me and this area. I need to look at structures and business models and figure out possible problems, the proper audience, marketing, fundraising, etc. My sister is good to remind me to use the down/hard times for tough reflection and motivation.

And, I've made two more resolutions on becoming self sufficient and simplifying. One, I want to buy no more than 3 new pieces of clothing for a year. I started in September; I'm already a month into this resolution. I can shop at second-hand stores or swap clothes. So, I'm excited about this proposition. Two, I'm going to stop dating for a while-- at least a month but maybe until the New Year. We shall see. I need to focus on my professional status and identity. I need just straight up friends to offer laughter, fun and a reality outside this little bubble of trouble in order to keep me grounded.

wacko, presto

Today was a wackfest from start to finish. I enjoyed my classes overall, but had way too many meetings about the impending doom that is the field trip on Friday. It has catastrophe stamped in huge red letters all over it-- but we cannot abort this mission. The kids are gung ho, the money collected, the arrangements made, the permission slips collected, etc.

Then I sat through a two-hour mandatory meeting about... I don't know what. It was colossal waste of a lot of people's time. I have no idea what the objective of the meeting was.

Then, I made the strategic mistake of browsing in the relationship section of the bookstore after finding the single copy of Zinser's On Writing Well for my class that begins tomorrow. My god, I was depressed and crestfallen after scanning some of those books. Not only that, but I'm forever branded a loser for even being seen in the self-help aisle. People should shop for those kind of books through the privacy of the internet.

But, then I ate a vat of leftover spaghetti and headed to the library to work on my personal statement. Writing is a mood enhancer as is running. More effective than most things actually. Now, if it weren't too late and dark for a run. I'd be fully recovered.

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.

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.

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.

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.

early stress

My weekend was productive, full and cheerful. I graded papers, met the Chief at the new Italian restaurant, and met a friend for drinks. Saturday I sipped coffee and read, ran then went to get my hair cut. But, my stylist didn't cut it. He proved to me that I don't have split ends. He educated me on how to moisturize my hair (it's a six week project friends). He spent 30 minutes with me and I didn't pay him anything. He's a good guy. It's going to be July before I can pull my hair back into a ponytail.

I then went over to my sewing instructor and worked on my gray slacks and blue shorts. They're good stuff; they're chic, comfortable and versatile. She'd finished up my vest (she did the buttons and button holes). I brought over some girl scout cookies that I thought would taste good with milk and would make a good snack during a break. However, when I brought them in she said, "Thank you. You shouldn't have." Not even I had the chutzpah to say, "Don't worry, I didn't." She saved me some calories. I came home and read and worked on some lessons for next week. It was productive down time. I've haven't gotten much time to myself this year.

The Chief came home from her style excursion with fabulous hair, cute shoes and early birthday presents for me. I really like the clothes for me, which is rare. One time she picked out these skirts for me; they had ruffles. I don't do ruffles. She did really well gaging my taste. It's mostly minimalist.. or should I say tacky minimalist. I'm not sure how I'd describe my style. But, there were two pieces that she said, "You are NOT to wear this to school. You need to reserve some clothes for you."

I did a lot of thinking... about my future... about big, abstract ideas that I don't have the time to ponder while I scurry through my week one activity at a time. Today's sermon was a reminder that transformation is a slow process.

Somehow this weekend proved confidence inspiring. Something about the warm, cheery weather that made me want to fly a kite. My hairdresser's, sewing instructor's and mom's generosity. The big thoughts (more accurately-- the big questions) breathed hope and optimism into the lens I view the world. This teaching gig, this living circumstance is a point of my life rather than the culmination of it. There's more to come.

In fact, I've started planning my 30th Birthday Party! It's going to be an outdoor, multi-generational celebration of all the people in this part of the world that I love. I'm thinking we'll have a picnic at the Whitewater Center and do the climbing wall, zipline, rafting, mountain biking, cards, frisbee. It'll be fun!

Next week is full. This weekend was full. I was really busy in high school-- 14 hours a day busy-- but somehow I find this season of my life more chaotic. I've developed a fairly routine schedule, but there's so much work to be done.

swath of hodge podge

Church:

My spiritual director directed me to Church on Sundays. He told me he didn't care where, but I needed to worship somewhere on the Sabbath. He's not bossy, and this is the first time he's told me something to do. So, I worshipped at the Benedictine Church today. I arrived late, so I got to sit in the front row. The sermon was on worry, and how our lives are centered on things they shouldn't be. We like a kind, good God that's far away-- not too close. We don't want a God who interferes with our plans. I wouldn't know anything about that-- the Hebrews wanting a mediator/prophet because they were afraid they'd die in front of the living God. And, come to find out, we do die when come into relationship with Yahweh. They're on to something.

Hike:

It's a gorgeous day! I decided to celebrate it with a hike: me, the glorious weather, and Crowder's Mountain. It was a festive outing. My fellow hikers were cheery and chirpy. There were lots of puppy dogs exploring with their masters. One dog was carrying a pack. I told his owner, "I like to see a dog earning his keep." The owner just laughed, and the dog kept trotting. Lots of kiddoes asking, "Are we there yet?" and receiving motivational speeches from their caretakers. The hike made me realize that I need to kick my training up a couple of notches: my legs were wobbly after the measly two-hour hike. I need to throw some weight-training into the mix, longer runs and trail runs. I need to up my time in the pool too. The hike also made me excited for the half marathon (Edge to Edge) I'm going to run in June on Vancouver Island with M. It's going to be amazing. And, I need to get my booty in shape so I can thoroughly enjoy myself.

Planning:

After meeting with the Curriculum Specialist last week, I'm very excited and motivated. She helped me find these creative lesson plans to teach the African curriculum sans the boring, schmoring book. Yay! for me and my students. The book is drier than the Sahara we've already studied! Tomorrow I'm teaching on cell phones in the Democratic Republic of the Congo as a way to discuss economy and sociology of the region. I'm finding pictures on Google Images and gearing up. And, in English I'm teaching on Descriptive Writing with Columbia Spaceship crash. It should be a fun day. I just wish I had better crowd control-- I was not prepared for this large of classes and the immaturity and lack of motivation of my students. She's coming again this week, and we're going to plan my South Africa unit. These lessons are the kind of lessons I envisioned teaching, but with about half the students and all of them on grade level.

Super Bowl:

Go Cardinals!

Miscellaneous:

As you can tell, dear reader, I'm feeling rejuvenated. I was listening to some codger wax on about the Christian life and realized he had it all wrong. Holiness isn't about being good; holiness is about being completely and truly alive. Now, that's exciting! It's a surrender to Aslan not a consent to a dull, dreary life. Obedience to Aslan is adventure. Learning to love is going to be a lifelong pursuit for me.

random fitness thoughts

Whenever I fill out surveys about hobbies and interests, invariably I write running, reading and writing*. This list is a indication of my introversion-- although I hadn't thought about it in those terms before. I really do love these three things. Any of these three things can redeem a bad day. But, running is the highest alchemy. It's physiological: I'm a much more enjoyable person to be around when I'm training/running regularly.

And, I bought dumbbells today. My arms are shockingly flabtastic-- I realized this thanks to some recent pictures. And, J's blog talked about getting workout ideas off YouTube. I'm going to do it. I'll report if there is anything worth reporting.

Note to M: I'm starting to train for Nashville 2009!

Completely off topic: does humor count as a talent or spiritual gift? Seriously. I'm supposed to fill out a sheet on my spiritual gifts and I'm at a loss. I asked the chief, and she asked me to name the spiritual gifts like it was a multiple choice test. So, I'm not the only one at a loss about my spiritual gifts. I feel like I should know this because I went to seminary, but I took a more academic route.


*Perhaps, I may add sewing and gardening to the list if I can muscle through the novice phase.