when is "too late"?

In the past three days, I've gotten two responses to emails in mid-June.  I'd forgotten that I'd sent the emails.  I had to read the email I sent one friend to figure out why he was emailing me.  That said, all was not in vain. I enjoyed reading my email; it was quite witty.  I have no idea what took him so long to respond... maybe he was intimidated.  I just responded my question had been rendered moot by time.

This highlights my sense of time-- it's off kilter.  Partly due to this, I am feeling a deep ambivalence towards making plans... and life in general.  I realize at this juncture that I have waaaaaaaaaay too much time on my hands to analyze and worry, and most people don't have the luxury.  I've always been prone to over analysis and now can fully indulge it.

Time is a luxury.  The problem is that I'm to anxious, stressed and worried to use it well.  And it affects my sleep patterns: it's a vicious pattern. I'm sure everybody had experienced it. There are days I can't read because I can't concentrate.  My sense of reality has morphed into fun-house mirrors.  Major problems get dwarfed by little problems, and it's hard to find a way out of the mental maze.  Prayer and people seem to normalize the patterns and eliminate some of the anxiety.

I picked up Streams in the Desert at the ReStore yesterday.  Yesterday's devotional was on waiting patiently.  I read it in the store, and it made me mad.  So many people have implied that I'm not trying hard enough or have done something wrong to be unemployed, that I should have felt relief.  What does waiting look like?  What's my responsibility in it?  All the tension between faith and action-- I must be looking at something incorrectly.  All this said, I bought the book for $2.

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?

get-away

I went to Richmond this weekend. I took a sick day on Friday and scooted on up 85 and 95. I had a fantastic time with my sister! We had a very girlie, very foodie kind of a weekend. I felt very pampered. We're talking mani/pedi and facial, Valentine's Day the movie, Red's, Cafe Guttenberg, Millie's, Red Robbin and the gyro place. It was fun and relaxing. I'm tired but revived. I'm going to stay late at school tonight to work on my centers, which debut on Friday. I've got to get them organized.

And, my sister and I've have decided on a massive undertaking for Lent. We're going to do the Daniel Fast (vegan, no caffeine, no alcohol, no fried, no added sweeteners)for Lent, we're going to read two books of the Bible and journal. It's hard core, but it's really the only way. I've been getting less these couple of months both with food and reading my Bible. My body, heart and mind need to detox. Lent is a structured time with a great celebration at the end. What's not to like? I'm going to be in pain starting Wednesday. No caffiene.

I found two running clubs: one meets on M/W/F at 5:45am at the Country Club-- about a five minute jog from my house. And the other, meets Mondays at 7:15 and Thursdays at 6:30 pm at an elementary school. I'm a little concerned about the earliness, but it does appeal. And, I imagine the morning people are a little more hard core. Any opinions/insights?

I haven't heard anything from any jobs. We shall see.

happy new year

Things are crazy hectic here. And, my mental climate is especially good. I'm really looking forward to this year. All the uncertainty feels kind of exciting. I'm trying to decide what trips to plan-- where to work-- what classes to take (cooking, writing, dance)-- what books to read-- what magazines to subscribe to. I feel like the 14 year old I used to be. Boisterous and silly. Unincumbered. I worked on some new slacks with Geneva today. I'm getting ready to meet AL for an early dinner.

School is going well. I got observed yesterday. It was no dog and pony show, but it went well. I'll see what the AP thinks soon enough.

I'm finishing up Elizabeth Strout's Abide With Me. It's quite good. Subtle and thought-provoking. A sneaky profound. I talked to some long lost friends, which always puts a spring in my step. I loaded up some holiday photos onto FB, which made me smile.

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.

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.

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.

snow day

Six inches of wet snow landed in my hometown. It's been a couple of years since we've received this much snow. (I went for the sexy picture-- the Webber and windchimes!) We set records for March 1st for both rain (over two inches) and snow. The snow is very bright and lovely. As I went about my day, I did multiple double takes, looking outside. I'd pass a window and glance out. I'd return to the window and gaze with a smile. I confess I did not build a snow man or sled or throw a snowball. I did crunch around in it-- I took two walks. Instead, I graded papers. I read. I talked on the phone. I napped. ( I'm staving off a cold.) I organized. I sipped Earl Grey. I relaxed. Now I need to get some more work done so I can fully enjoy tomorrow's snow day. I'm fighting the make-up day dread; I have no control over it. So, I might as well enjoy the day as it is meted out. I need to learn to replace my many "whys" with "thank yous".

The following quotation arrested me (and was quite timely in Lent's call for self-reflective prayer): "That you may love [Jesus Christ] truly understand that his love is proved in three areas of your life-- in your thinking, in your talking, and in your manner of working," says Richard Rolle.

Now, I shall try to call M and C one more time each. I shall read my lessons for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

intermission

Weekends have begun to feel like intermissions during a long play. They're a brief break to stretch my legs, use the bathroom, chat, gather yourself, figure out with tact who's coughing (or tapping her foot directly behind you) take care of any business (email, text, note to self), figure out plans for afterwards. And, then sometimes, I just keep my seat unless somebody needs to pass by me. This weekend was a hybrid between business and rest: I began a pants project (measured, cut the pieces, began sewing the tops together (wool and lining separately)) and did some final measurements for the vest.

Rest came as lunch with a friend, two movies (You've Got Mail and Four Feathers), dinner with my sister and my mom. I didn't even read. The fact that I got so little work done leads me to believe that I'm unconsciously expecting a snow day on Monday. An entitlement mentality does me no good. I've read enough Aesop's Fables to know that.

I made a hard decision: no Italy. I can't afford it: the economy is horrible, I'm not tenured (there's no guarantee I'll have a job next year), my student loans carry on (they make me see the positive side of inflation), I have trip planned for April and June already, I don't have a real summer job lined up-- very sketchy. My priorities need to have an air of prudence to them. I'd love to go to Italy, but it's not going to be Summer 2009.

Lenten update: I stuck to my limited internet use except for today. However, I didn't use the extra time to read my Bible. I used it to spaz out or sleep. Now, I need to convert the time to good-- it's not enough to clear the schedule.

Schedule Update: my work week was stressful: I can feel it in my neck and shoulders-- at least it's not to the point that I'm nauseous. My afternoon block was out of control and spiteful. And there's colleague conflict. It's as if I get into this painful, defensive crouching posture mentally and emotionally. I'm drained. I need to be reading my Bible and praying more. Friday night I had a great time serving homeless people dinner with my small group and hanging out with M & B.

Work highligt: I had my student's write a metaphor for hope in response to Emily Dickinson's "Hope is a thing with feathers." One kid wrote that hope was a set of car keys. You need your car keys in order to go anywhere, but sometimes you lose them. Yet you inevitably find them. I've been thinking about the metaphor a lot. It's brilliant... and I helped facilitate it. It makes my aching shoulders somewhat worth it.

plot by flannery o'connor

My aim was noble tonight: I drove to the funeral home to go to a student's father's visitation. Nobody was at the funeral home, at least no one living. Then, I got lost coming home because I reasoned I'd just ask the people at the funeral home directions. Next, I had a bizarre conversation with an African at the Whitewater Center. I swear to God a road was missing, which made a reliable conversationalist. He patronized me, and I'm never in the mood to be patronized, especially tonight. He told me to be quiet. When I finally reached the belt loop, my gas light went on. Yes, I had ten miles or so until I was completely empty. I had four-tenths of a gallon to spare when I reached the gast station. But, I came home to sirloin and Shiraz. This sequence of snaffus made me appreciate normalcy. Yay, normal!

I can some up day in a single incident: I lost my lunch. How does one lose her lunch?

grudge match: brahms v. beethoven

Tonight a colleague and I went to the Symphony. The first half was a Brahms Symphony-- I believe the third of the four he wrote. He wrote in a single summer. The critics refer to it as a "spring" symphony. After intermission, they played Beethoven's Fifth. I was humming the iconic four notes all day in anticipation. The juxtaposition of the two symphonies did Brahms' no favor. It was cute vs. magnificent. The music solidified my distaste for the people and sub-cultures that employ "cute" and "nice" as compliments. It made me think about how I (and we) settle for the mediocre in lieu of the best. Brahms would have been nothing special... but okay. A person who listened to that symphony alone could draw the conclusion that classical music is lame. How does one even discover Beethoven (or Bach) to realize her appreciation for classical music? There are a lot of parallels to consider with this phenomenon. Christian subculture fawns at the altar of mediocrity because ambition and dedication are considered tacky. Listen to these two symphonies in one sitting and come out with a single evaluation that favors the Brahms, and I'll write an ode to all things mediocre.

worry

On my way home from school I read Spencer Mountain Baptist Church's marquis. This week it exclaims "Worry is the misuse of imagination." Most of the time these bumper-sticker worthy slogans make me smirk or grimace. This one, however, got me thinking. I'd like to take it a step further: Worry is the abuse of imagination. Worry is a distortion of an amazing gift. Imagination is a manifestation of our humaness, our imago dei. Imagination provides so much delight and fun. Our capacity for language, story and abstraction are mirrored in no other facet of the natural world. Creativity is God's image on us in the same manner Caesar's was on the coin the Pharisee handed Jesus. We are God's.

Yet, I worry. Autonomy sucks joy out of life. It's as CSL says that God doesn't worry about our desires being too big but rather that they are too small. We're content with drink, sex and ambition in lieu of unending joy. Heck, I'd take CSL down a notch: I settle for a sense of security.

Tonight at small group we discussed more shattered dreams. But, what stood out to me was relinquishing control and diving into faith is a quotidian act. It sounds so sexy like quitting my job and moving to El Salvador, but it's probably a lot more like staying in my job, learning how to bite my tongue, and writing just because I enjoy it.

I've also realized that I enjoy planning and teaching Social Studies more than I do Language Arts. I was chatting with the Chief about this and pointed out the problem with Language Arts. It covers everything. She said she used to answer the question: "What do you teach?" with "Life." As somebody who finds laundry overwhelming, you can see why I might find "everything" daunting. This is good to figure out. Plus, I equate over analysis of poetry with vivisection. I know 7th grade and the rural school aren't the best fits for me, but I have no clue how or where to go next. No need to worry, right?

Meet Tiberius

I've been obnoxious with my dog fixation. I want a dog, a Hungarian Visla or Rhodesian Ridgeback to be precise, even though I don't have the time or the money for such a dog. So, the Chief, as funny as she is, got me this little Valentine pup to tide me over until the time for a real one comes. I think I'll name him Tiberius. A name when in size 36 font is longer than he. It was between Demosthenes and Tiberius. I chose Tiberius because it's Roman, rugged and breaks into a knickname more easily. Trust me, he's a keeper: he's plush and has a solid world view. His politics are sound as are his view of the human condition. Really, the two go hand in hand.

Today, I sent a lot of kids to Redirect. They got 3 checks beside their name. I've been a little timid about sending them because the principal publishes a public record as a shaming technique. But, I was talking it over with the Chief, she told me, that repeat customers is evidence of the ineffectiveness of "Redirect" rather than your classroom management. So, I'm sure I'll gain the repercussions of making a lazy person earn his keep, but it shaped up the other kids.

I figured out the logistics of keeping my job via Lateral Entry. I have to take two classes that will cost me $650 each-- the School District will reimburse me for $400. So, that puts me back $900. I need to figure out other funding besides my savings. Teaching is an expensive job. My sister calls me the professional volunteer. She makes 3.5 times what I make with the same amount of education and hours worked. C'est la vie. My one consolation is tax bracket. I don't even get the consolation of looking down on business thanks to my family and Regent education. All vocations are equal in my sight. We all serve the same God and our different parts of the same Body. I think people who feel self-righteous either for taking the high road or for making lots of money are errant. We are all called to different tasks even in different seasons. All this said, money confounds me. I'm slowly learning how to deal with and respect it.

It's gotten cold again, which has contributed to me getting caught up with my grading.

dog mohawks

I got highlights today because my sewing date fell through due to diarrhea. It took f-o-r-e-v-e-r at the Aveda Institute. It looks "natural". And, my magician told me that she practiced on her dog's mohawk. He's part chichauhau/shitzu. Micro animal testing. The idea has kept me entertained ever since she told me. This factoid was much needed for my craptastic mood. And, I went looking at office space with my aunt and got lectured that I need to marry well. Good times. Then, I alphabetized. Now you can see why the dog mohawk was a highlight.

drum the hum

Humdrum. I loved my lessons today but was in the minority. I caved to holiday fever and discussed Valentine's in both Language Arts and Social Studies. In Language Arts, I introduced them to some Shakespeare's Sonnets (130 and 116 if there is an afficionado in the crowd). Surprise: they preferred the humorous one. "Breasts" provided about 2 minutes of entertainment in each block. I told them he was referring to her skin, but they'd buy none of that. And, it proved a sly introduction to poetry.

The novel I found set in Nigeria isn't as popular as the DiCamillo books I read. But, I'm realizing that I will meet whining, wheedling and complaining at every juncture in 7th-grade land. I think some of my students would break into hives if they accidentally admitted to liking something in class. (This year of teaching is showing me how insulated I was from the reality of my profound nerdiness-- thanks to AG, prep school and the Classics Department, I never had to look my nerdiness in the eye. I could always consider myself "normal". Ha.)

Oh, my SS lesson was a bit disjointed much like my transition to the Nigerian novel in the above paragraph. We looked at the life of a 12 year old boy, Arnold, in a township outside of Cape Town, and the origins and facts of St. Valentine's Day. Flexibility is key: post-Apartheid South Africa and Ancient Rome match in the same manner as chartreuse and magenta. Think Jamz. But, they soaked up the information. The room got quiet and still. But, pandemonium is never far away. Things might get boring otherwise.

After school, I bought my right front wheel bearing, which was one sexy purchase. As I browsed at this cute boutique in walking distance from the repair shop, I thought why buy a dress when I can spring for a bearing. Furthermore, it made me glad I'm learning to sew because I didn't feel obligated to like anything. I realized that if I keep at it, I will literally develop my own style independent of the fashion magazines to which I was addicted since I was about thirteen.

I treated my mom to a port-a-chicken picnic; the band had a fundraiser and I was stranded do the maintenance. We had a good time. It's a blessing and a curse to enjoy one's family so much. I don't push past my comfort zone to meet new people.

Then I went to Vespers and was early enough to chat with another lady who attends regularly (apparently daily). She teaches at the college and lives down the street. Maybe, one day I will have that kind of cool life. I dozed a bit during the chanting and reading, but the sacredness of space and time and habit still affected me (I hope). And, I got a lot out of the small group meeting last night. Christian community is hard... and good.

Now, I'm watching Love Actually and preparing for bed. Tomorrow's a big day: I sew and grade!

bungled

I stayed out today: the first day I've taken off since August 13th. I graded and recorded grades for six hours; it was grueling but worth it. I was getting so stressed out with the papers hanging over my head. So, I decided to take today to stop the insomnia and useless worrying. My Saturday is booked (if that natural question popped into your head), and interims go out next Thursday. It's crunch time, and I was getting crunched. Then, I went to Wal-Mart tonight to pick up some candy for my students and ran into my most snarky one. Oh, goody. "Hi, Ms. M," she said as she scurried down the aisle. Awesome. Still feelings of guilt aggravate me even though I skipped work to work. Oh, not to be so high strung!

Last night I enjoyed Frost/Nixon with Stacy Keech. I had done no research on what it was about wasn't enthused about going. But, I enjoyed it thoroughly. There's some elusive transaction that happens with live theater. The writing, acting and staging were excellent. Both Frost and Nixon were developed as tragic figures. Apparently on NPR, Keech made comparisons between Nixon and King Lear. (Keech is playing Lear next-- perhaps it was just a plug.) And, it was an adventure parking. I thought the show started at 8pm, so I was taking my time. My friend was making remarks about it being tacky to be late to a play, and I was agreeing with her. Then, C said, "It starts at 7:30." I apologized as I kicked it into high gear. The Dunhill had parking for five dollars.

Battle of the Blues: Last night the crestfallen carpet baggers crawling out of Cameron warmed my heart. They looked so deflated without their snears. Too bad, they won't high-tail it back to New Jersey, their natural habitat. Go Heels! Go North Carolina!

snapshots from the field

While I'm at it. Here are some notable interchanges I've had over the past week.

Last night around 11pm on the phone with my brother:

"I've been thinking about our lifespan. All our grandparents lived past 80. That put's me at a lifespan of over 90. It's a lot and a little bit..." I keep on pontificating.
My brother gently interrupts me, "Well, that's nice, but how about you think about your alarm clock going off at 5:30 tomorrow morning. That might be a little more helpful."
"You've got a point," I respond, and we wrap up the conversation.

After teaching a map exercise on South Africa and North Carolina while modelling Apartheid-like discrimination with the allocation of resources (rulers and calculators), I chatted with one of my habitual problem kids:

"Hey, J, why didn't you do any work today?" I ask as he's washing his hands for God knows what reason.
"You weren't fair," he said with as much earnestness as he is capable of mustering.
"When?" I ask.
"You didn't give me a ruler," he said.
"I know, it was part of the lesson," I said,
"It still wasn't fair."

Last week on a phone call with a parent:

"You know what I think the worst thing that happened to the US?" he asks.
"What?" I play along.
"Political Correctness," he said.

(This one's had me thinking all week. It makes me think of Thucydides and Jim Crow and the 19th Amendment and modern liberalism. It also makes me want to write a novel. Sometimes, I feel this year I'm collecting characters to populate novels for the rest of my life. At least, that's what I tell myself to inject some humor into a day like today. Yes, apparently, I had a hole in my dress around my ass today. I cannot think of a better audience than 7th graders for that kind of embarrassment.)

Tonight on the phone with Mand:

"They were so ridiculously pretentious, which is so annoying," I say.
She laughs at me.
"It's not like they're my kind of pretentious," I continue. "My kind of pretentious is endearing and entertaining."

anticipation

So, I was feeling like a total dork: it's Friday night and I bought a digital camera, graded papers at a coffee shop, ate dinner with my mother and some of her friends (who I dearly love), and am reading the book for my spiritual theology reading club. Yea, I know what you're thinking: this sounds just like that "Sex and the City" episode where Samantha... (hahaha.) Anyway, I earned all my sensations of dorkiness. But, I didn't mind the loserness when I mined these gems. I vaguely remember the quotations from other times I've read the book, but, golly gee, Bonhoeffer's good stuff. Here are the quotations from Bonhoeffer's Life Together that quelled my shame about my utter dorkfestation:

"What is important is not that God is a spectator and participant in our life today, but that we attentive listeners and participants in God's action and sacred story, the story of Christ on earth. God is with us today only as long as we are there. A complete reversal occurs here. It is not that God's presence and help have been demonstrated for us in the life of Jesus Christ. It is in fact more important for us to know what God did to Israel, in God's son Jesus Christ, than to discover what God intends for us today. The fact that Jesus Christ died is more important than the fact that I will die.... What we call our life, our troubles and our guilt is by no means the whole of reality; our life, our need, our guilt, and our deliverance are there in the Scriptures" (47).

"... prayer is not a matter of a unique pouring out of the human heart in need or joy, but an unbroken, indeed continuous, process of learning, appropriating and impressing God's will in Jesus Christ in our mind." (44)

Am I right? Aren't these good stuff? I'm excited to get to chat this book up with other people!

schmetails

The glow from the two-hour delay waned by the time the faculty meeting ended. I've worked 12 hours today. I wrote two tests. I did some planning; it was frustrating because the computer lab and library was booked all week by an 8th grade teacher. But, I have to say my past couple weeks of lessons have been technologically savvy and germain. And, I did a lot of email and phone calls.

Tonight I signed up for the half marathon on Vancouver Island in June. But, I couldn't locate my passport. I'm worried it's not in date. Finding it is on my TDL. Maybe, this chunk of change will get me to the gym. For instance, today I was at school until six. Ate dinner at seven. And worked from 7:30 to 10pm. I'm simply going to have to schedule it. But, next week is uber busy and the week after that. Man, oh, man. Maybe, I should just say no fast food and soda. I'm going to have to work on Saturday mornings before I go to sew.

It's a good day to be a UNC fan: Duke and Wake Forest lost tonight.

25 Things: an exercise in self-absorption

1. I dig poetry and classical music.
2. Where the Wild Things Are profoundly impacted my intellectual, spiritual and emotional life.
3. I took 5.5 years of ballet to no avail.
4. I lettered in running, swimming and rowing. They’re what I like to call cat sports.
5. I took piano lessons in 2-3rd grades and played the Horn in 7-10th grades.
6. Bach is my favorite composer. His music settles me.
7. My favorite toy as a kid was a nameless white mouse who squeaked when you squeezed it. (yes, it was a cat toy).
8. I also owned an aquamarine elephant stuffed animal that played "It's a Small World After All" when wound up. This is the root of my political leanings.
9. I had a crush on Holden Caulfield in 10th grade, and I crushed on Robert Sean Leonard and Thomas Jefferson in 11th grade. No guy has yet to live up to this trio.
10. I like to think I haven’t read my favorite book yet.
11. Vancouver is my favorite city. I’d even switch to British English and spell it “favourite” if it’d help me get the papers to move.
12. I love to run, read and write. Furthermore, I’ve discovered there’s no correlation between what you love to do and what you’re good at.
13. I excel at awkwardness.
14. I need novelty but thrive on routine. I’m going to rock my 70s and 80s.
15. When I consider God’s goodness, I see the most evidence in my friends and family. Quality.
16. If I were independently wealthy, I would be a perpetual student and travel in the summers.
17. I’m a whiner, but I like to think my wit makes up for it.
18. I ate seven homemade brownies today.
19. ACDC’s “Shook Me” makes every running mix I burn.
20. I’d rather run five miles than do 5 crunches and pushups.
21. I look like my maternal grandfather.
22. I rarely remember my sleeping dreams.
23. I’m fond of hyperbole and my own sense of humor.
24. At this point, I’m ambivalent about teaching, or maybe I’m ambivalent about teaching 7th graders.
25. I eat just about everything, esp. homemade brownies. I draw the line at organs.