my date

So... last night, after much trepidation and false starts, I got up the nerve to ask myself out on a date, and guess what? I said yes!

I had it all planned out. I was going to get off work at 5, get back by 6:15, make a really nice dinner, and then watch a movie with my feet in the spa bath foot massager that Steve kindly donated to our household. I was even going to stop and get myself some flowers.

Well, this morning I forgot my phone, and a bunch of other things, so when my plans went slightly astray, I couldn't even call to say I'd be late. But I didn't have a phone, so I didn't KNOW I was late.

I stopped in at Port City Java because I saw a sign that they were hiring. I filled out an application for a shift leader position (SHHH don't tell Helene yet!) which took longer than I expected. Then I stopped at C-town to pick up a few ingredients that I thought I needed but when I got in there, I realized you can't make anything but South American food when you go in there and I wanted fish chowder, New England style. I left because they didn't have any vegetable broth.

By the time I got to the flower shop it was closed, so I continued down the street and back to my apartment. I guess dinner and flowers are scrapped, but the spa and movie are still pretty intriguing. I'm gonna get off my computer and go do that.

Kendo

So, my brother's kinda exploring different martial arts. So I went with him to Kendo tonight, to see what it was like. I had to take off my socks and shoes, which instantly made me itch thinking I might be picking up athlete's foot.

But basically Kendo is a practical application of Iaido, or so it seems. And since posture and reflexes are about the only things useful I can imagine getting from Kendo, I probably won't be returning. I mean, its not really a common thing in the span of a person's life (in this day and age) to find yourself wishing you knew how to use a katana. They seem like a cool group of people though. My favorite part was doing finger flexes and counting to ten in Japanese and English... they gave us the option of counting in other languages too but only one person took them up on the offer... and it wasn't me in Italian. Or German. I spent a good ten minutes after the class met counting to ten at Steve. My brother now thinks I'm totally insane.

I think he thought that before too though.

Ok goodnight.

PS... We didn't do anything tonight that couldn't be done with socks on.

Rewriting Movie Titles

... in the style of Snakes on a Plane.

Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels: Guys Who Talk Funny Stealing from Each Other

Snatch: Guys Who Talk Funny Stealing from Each Other 2

ANY Superman movie: Guy Saving the World and Getting the Girl

Urban Cowboy: White Trash Who Don't Deserve Each Other In Houston

Yeah, I watched that last one last night. That is, I think, the longest movie ever made. It has great music, because its all country music. But yeah. The main character didn't deserve the girl, but neither did the bad guy. And the girl had no spine. What really should have happened was she should have moved to Montana and found a real guy. But she didn't have the brain or the guts to do that so she just stayed with her obnoxious husband because "they love each other" and they love the double-wide honeymoon suite.

Urban Cowboy 2 should start with Deana Carter's music video: Did I Shave My Legs For This? (Sorry I couldn't find it without little popups.)

dhaval

Dhaval put something in his blog recently... I was just going to do excerpts but its all good... so here's the whole thing:

"Wolff’s law is a theory developed by the German Anatomist/Surgeon Julius Wolff (1835-1902) in the 19th century that states that bone in a healthy person or animal will adapt to the loads it is placed under. If loading on a particular bone increases, the bone will remodel itself over time to become stronger to resist that sort of loading. The converse is true as well: if the loading on a bone decreases, the bone will be adapted and become weaker.

I think that this law applies to everything and not necessarily to bones and bone densities. I was watching fight science on National Geographic, which is a very neat show for all the people interested in martial arts. The show basically breaks down all the elements of martial arts, and shows how each technique effects the body and if it is actually as harmful to the opponent as they say it is. The coolest one was the ninjitsu move where one strike can stop your heart. Anyways they were showing how in Mui Thai the kickboxers kick cocnut tree trunks and those leg bones just become stronger over time. This is where Wolff’s Law comes into place.

So, I just wanted to mention how the person’s bone adapts to all the loading it undergoes, in the same manner the human brain and heart also get stronger with more load/stress put on it. Also the following comparision is ironic (don’t know if it si the right word to use). The human bone gets stronger after it breaks as well as the heart becomes stronger once it is broken……………

I have been wanting to write this for a long time but didn’t get around to it. I watched fight science about 2 weeks ago."

I don't know if I was with Dhaval when he watched it, but I remember that episode. It was a very useful episode... It helped me in my quest to sort things out before going back to jujitsu. I need a purpose for being there. Some people do jujitsu just because. I'm not the type of person to do that for anything. I have to have a reason, even if the reason is just "I like it." But I stopped liking jujitsu so I needed to find another reason to continue, and that is that I really admired the control those martial artists had over their bodies, and decided that if for no other reason, I would return so that I could continue to develop that control.

The other thing was this: "The human bone gets stronger after it breaks as well as the heart becomes stronger once it is broken."

It caught my eye because I don't know much about Dhaval, so I don't know if he is referring to a personal situation or not. But it gives me hope all the same, that maybe in time my heart will become stronger.

what a day...

question for taylor... is it bad to mix herbal remedies with modern western medicine? will either be less effective because of the presence of the other?

contemplating this as i drug myself up at the coffee bar...

"warning, do not operate heavy machinery..."

that was my away message this morning. as it turns out, i opted for just being miserable instead of being drugged and miserable. that was a good thing... because i acted as if i were drugged anyway. i kept giving people the wrong change, i felt slightly lightheaded, and moved sluggishly. the clincher was the coffeepot incident. our pots are hand pumped, so pushing down on the top of it pumps air into the container enough that the pressure pushes the coffee up the pipe and out of the container. (capillary action? are you proud of me james?) the pipe is removed in order to refill the coffee pot. except in cases when the barista is acting like she's high on benadryl and puts the coffee pot under the brewer without removing the pipe. in those cases, the brewer drips a tiny bit of coffee into the pipe, where some of it reaches the inside of the pot. the rest of it covers the countertop, drips into the ice bin, underneath the flavored syrups and cups, and into the lipton tea box.

occasionally the brewer does this all by itself, in which case we imagine that management does it to make sure we're thoroughly cleaning the counters. today though, the brewing machine had help.

not only that, but something weird happened with helene today. this could be just me hallucinating from all the congestion in my head, or it could be her being possessed by a demon. i swear, i heard her speaking, and then i heard her voice saying something else at exactly the same time. are the vocal chords capable of that? i'm not sure.

anyway, i'm home now, and feeling a little nauseous. i'm gonna go lie down.

Jujitsu

I forgot to add this stuff to the post I put up about an hour ago.

If any of you don't know, I have been taking a bit of a break from Jujitsu lately. I have come up with a myriad of reasons, none of which seem to hit 100% on the spot about why exactly I have left.

I've had joint problems... I've been busy with work... I've been trying to find a focus for jujitsu... I've had trouble keeping my emotions off the mat... I've been on the mat wondering and longing for 9:30 to come so I can leave... I can't deal with Barb... "Its interpersonal, so we can just have you not work with that person" (Barb's psychoanalysis of me)... I can't be pushed to do things... I can't take the challenge... I am simply cursed by starting things and then quitting. (Ex, 1 day of gymnastics, 1 month of horseback riding, 9 months of clarinet, 3 years of piano... nothing I really stuck with enough to be very proficient.)

None of those ideas are the real reason. I don't know the real reason. But I remember once hearing about some former students of Barb's who left under less desirable circumstances. I remember Andrew telling me that it takes a special kind of person not to quit after Rokyu because of personality differences in the dojo, a special kind of patience. I remember thinking that I wanted to be one of those people who had that kind of patience.

Yesterday was the involvement fair. I went, not to hang out with the people, and not to do jujitsu, but to help recruit freshmen who might want to join. And I did. I talked to a lot of people, and it was really good. Working at Nordstrom has made me more comfortable pitching a sale... even though I don't really pitch anything at the Ebar, I guess its just the personal contact or something.

Anyway... It was good seeing everyone. Seeing them work out made me feel out of shape. But seeing Barb gave me a strange sensation. I'm not one of her star students anymore. I felt like I somehow mattered less to her because I haven't had the heart/desire to work out. I know you'll probably tell me it was in my mind, but maybe it was. Barb gets in my mind a lot. Senseis do that sometimes. It wasn't anything she said, it was the energy she gave off. I guess I can understand... I don't mean to do this, but in rebelling against jujitsu, I am in a sense rebelling against her, since she is the sensei. She loses a lot of people a year who simply give up on jujitsu, and I guess when you've done it as long as she has, its hard not to take it personally. Jujitsu is her life, and she doesn't understand why someone wouldn't want to make it their life as well.

Yesterday, I had mixed feelings. I realized that, as much as I want to go back, its going to be a lot harder than I originally thought. I'll do it, eventually, but it will be tough. It might be just as hard to do as it was for me to get involved with my youth group. Not that any of you reading now know anything about how I felt that many years ago. But... yeah.

I'm kind of nervous about the future. I think that I'm changing. I'm starting to know a little more what I want and what I don't want. And I guess if I'm still Barb's student when the time comes for me to want a certain something that I have in mind, she's not going to agree with me. I hope she agrees to disagree.

EDIT: I wrote this before the jujitsu class I was skipping ended. When it ended, some of the people who were there came and complained to me (and Anissa who also skipped). Apparently there are people who are going to class who are feeling similar to how I feel (except for the fact that I can't seem to put my finger on a definitive point). Anyway, it apparently was a particularly bad class (by bad I mean Barb was prickly) which made me glad I skipped and glad that my brother wasn't there (it would have been his first night and he would have been turned off by it).

my journey

I'm going to Walmart to see if there is anything left in their garden section. Maybe I will find some Coleus.

I was just thinking today about phobias. I have concluded that my secret fear is going to Walmart, needing something REALLY badly, not being able to find it, and not being able to find a SINGLE employee who speaks English. Not even the management. Not even Mr. Walmart himself, or the little happy face that knocks down prices. In pesos and rupees.

Ok, I'm off on my little adventure. Wish me luck, and where did I put that passport?

>:-o

I was going to write something about jujitsu yesterday. I went, mostly because Prof Carr was there (Barb's sensei) and I didn't work out, I just watched. I was kind of glad. I was feeling particularly achy last night. Barb tried to tell me what's wrong with me. But she isn't a physician, nor is she a psychologist.

But I have something more pressing to write about now. Someone stole my garden! I woke up this morning and glanced out the window and noticed one of the white lawn chairs was not there. So I took a further look and saw that it was in the middle of my impatiens. What's going on here. I went outside to check on everything, and my impatiens have all been stepped on, and my coleus is missing. Who the heck vandalises a garden?? Don't you people have better things to do? Go rob a bank and leave me my little piece of home. It actually makes me a little homesick. I really liked that coleus. My mom bought it for me.

My first thought was someone was standing on the white chair trying to get into my window, but the chair was in the wrong place for that. It was also in the wrong place for one of the house caretakers to have tried to fix something. It was just randomly there in my garden.

Then I thought maybe the caretakers were trying to weed or something and got the wrong plants. But Taylor's half dead tomato plant is still back there happily chugging out tomatoes despite the fact it has no leaves. They would have gone for that first if they were trying to weed.

So I'm really mad.

Why on earth would someone kill a garden?

At least my hostas are still there looking like they need water.

random daydream

"Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen, and welcome aboard the Becky Thatcher. As the crew takes a few minutes to prepare for launch, I’d like to take the time to familiarize you with the history of this boat as well as some safety precautions.

“The Becky Thatcher was built about 5 ½ years ago and it was assumed a launch date would be set for spring of that year. Due to an engineering error, the launch date was postponed, followed by a period of insufficient funds for her completion. She was finally launched on her maiden voyage a year after the intended launch date. Her maiden and subsequent voyages, however, were a success, carrying her passengers through (mostly) smooth waters for 2 ½ years. In the summer of her fourth year, the Becky Thatcher developed a slow leak in her hull, due to the acidity in the waters of the Mississippi. In order to preserve her engine from damage, her Captain deliberately ran her aground on a sandbar. Extensive restoration was begun, along with a new protective coating on her exterior in order to prevent future hull damage. The engineer overseeing the restoration became the new First Mate, and she was given a new course through less polluted waters. Several changes occurred over the next few months, including the resignation of the First Mate, a drastic change in weather patterns, and another change in travel routes, but the Becky Thatcher is still going strong.

“This in no way indicates that we should ignore safety procedures. In the event of poor weather or an unexpected emergency, announcements will be given over this intercom system. If the Captain decides to evacuate the ship, please be sure to gather at the bow, where the floatation devices are located in the overhead racks. There are lifeboats to either side of the bow. Do not evacuate via the stern. It will place you too close to the engines and the paddlewheels. In the event of an emergency in which it is impossible to evacuate via the bow, please exit as far from the stern as possible. As gorgeous a ship as the Becky Thatcher is, her paddlewheels will tear you apart if you get too close during an emergency.

“This concludes our introduction to your travels with the Becky Thatcher. It is the pleasure of the crew and captain that we welcome you aboard. Our departure time is now 3 minutes, and we hope you have a wonderful voyage.”

a;lskjf

Fellow blogger, a person I have to call Michigan Dan in order to differentiate him from the other Dans in my life such as Brother Dan, Uncle Dan, Blue-Belt Dan, and Emperor Dan, posted something recently: Confessions of Mean Thoughts.

Which is essentially what my last blog was, "I work for a sped."

Now I'm going to say, my customers are a little off too. "I'd like a coffee please. Can you make it real coffee?"

No I'm sorry we're only serving imaginary coffee tonight.

However, there were two people who were very interesting tonight. They came up mumbling in another language to each other. I wasn't really paying attention and didn't try to figure out the language. Surge rang up their order and then asked if they were Polish or Russian. They said "Nooooo... we're Italian." I asked what part of Italy, and they said Verona, and I said "Oh, that's a nice place, I've been there," and then the one guy asked in Italian if I spoke Italian and why did I go to Italy and did I like it and what city. He then translated to the other guy and we talked a bit more... although I spoke quite poorly...

So after almost a year, I had a conversation in Italian and I realize... I do sorta miss it. But mostly, I am mad at myself for having forgotten a lot of it. I can read it decently, and I can usually understand most of the dialects except Sicillian. But writing it, or speaking it myself... I was never good to begin with, and now I'm worse because a year has passed. I'm tempted to find a way to keep it in practice... maybe some conversational Italian tapes or something.

But anyway. That was cool. Then Andrew and James came to visit and then gave me a ride home, which was also cool.

mm eh uh

I work for a sped. That's all I'm going to say about work yesterday.

In other news, I fell asleep after work and skipped jujitsu, but then I woke up hungry so I went to Noodle Gourmet while the jujitsu people were there. Barb asked if my work schedule was keeping me from jujitsu. I told her I've been having a lot of joint pain and also some emotional stuff to deal with. I didn't mention though, that it seems like the joint pain only happens when the emotional stuff starts in. It felt weird talking about it to her. As if telling her somehow made it more real. I don't want it to be real. I want it to be all in my head so I can just realize that and forget about it and come back to jujitsu. I miss it. But at the same time, I have no desire to go.

I guess that's all.

Talladega Nights

Here it is... the post that was just waiting to happen. I had no plans to go see the movie because I'm not a fan of Will Ferrell, nor am I a fan of movies containing fast cars (cough the fast and the furious cough cough).

But Cara invited me, and James, Andrew, and Steve came along as well. Sitting in the previews was interesting enough. There's something about seeing a movie with friends that makes it a better experience than seeing a movie by yourself or with only one friend. I think its that everyone kinda builds on each other's emotion, or whatever it is they happen to invest in the movie. In this case, just pure laughter.

The main character, Ricky Bobby, is born in the back of a speeding car on the way to the hospital. The reason it was in the backseat and not in the hospital is because the driver passed the hospital, being fascinated by the speedometer. Hicksville.

I felt very at home watching the movie. I will admit, my family isn't *quite* like that, but it was the kind of movie that would appeal to someone with blood/kinfolk like mine. I think I laughed during the movie about as much as I did the whole time I was in Michigan, only it was compressed into 2 hours. The laughter in Michigan, however, was directed at jokes of the same nature as the ones made in the movie tonight.

Also, I reflected that it must be very easy to raise money for a show about racecars, given all the corporate sponsorships that could be attained from pasting logos to the cars. Not to mention the Applebee's commercial. If you have seen the movie, you know what I'm talking about, if not, go see the movie and be thankful there's only one more spoiler coming up.

***Spoiler***
It was great fun watching the end of the race, with Will and the French guy, and seeing the road ahead that the movie plot is about to take, and then turning my head and watching Steve, James, Cara, and Andrew groan, say "Oh no oh no... don't- not the arrrrrghghhhhh" as Will Ferrell kisses his arch enemy on the lips. I didn't really see the scene because I was watching my friends shield their eyes. Something about Will Ferrell in this movie screams "not sexy" and "least likely to do exactly what he just did on screen... aggggh." It was fascinating to watch people's reactions to the unexpected.

***end spoiler***

Ok thats about all I have to say. The movie exceeded my expectations. And the cougar was cool. And Reese Bobby... reminds me of someone. I'm not gonna say who. But yeah. This movie runs in my blood...

Surrounded

My away message today read "why the hell is everybody dying."

T was killed in a car accident on Monday.

This is stupid. Everyone I know has been to a funeral in the past couple of months. I guess by everyone I mean several. But it feels like everyone. I'm tired of the death in my life.

I'm even more tired of the dying going on inside me. Slowly, little pieces of me are crumbling away into nothing. Jujitsu used to be such a big part of my life. Its falling apart and it hurts me that I can't bring myself to go much anymore. I used to be creative and write poetry and draw pictures and dance. What would it take to get me to dance again? I'm not sure. I wish I knew what it was that was eating me up.

Maybe I do know and just don't want to tell myself that. Well, I wish others knew and would tell me.

Do you hear that? I want you to grab me by the shoulders and look me in the eyes and shout in my face the words that will either kill me or bring me back to life. Wait I forgot. Someone already said those words and they killed me.

Not because of what was said but because I knew it was a lie. And because I'm a silly sappy hopeless dreamer, I chose to try to convince myself that lie was true.

Wow. I didn't intend for this blog post to travel down this road. Its amazing what happens when you let out one tiny part of your emotions. Its like a dam bursting.

Sam, when are you coming back to jujitsu? If you come back I will go one day, just 'cause I need to grapple with you.

Sweat, tears, and the ocean will heal all wounds. If I get injured grappling with Sam in Beach Haven, I could have all three.

housecleaning...

Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation? Hebrews 1:14

Found her staring at the rain and asking why it has to hurt so bad. Where's the limit to the pain her heart can take before it breaks in half? I wanted to be strong enough to hold her and show her the way but she's so far out of reach and now all I can do is pray...

Can You spare an angel tonight, send a little help from Your side, cause somebody's lost down here. Let him wing his way through the dark, carry some of Your love into her heart, can You spare an angel, spare an angel, spare an angel.

She wanders further in the dark, feels the cold, hears the thunder cry while the rain keeps pouring down- her only answer from the lonely sky, and she has no idea how much You love her or how much You care, so would You choose one of Your best to be the answer to my prayer?

Can you spare an angel tonight, send a little help from Your side, cause somebody's lost down here. Let him wing his way through the dark, carry some of Your love into her heart, can You spare an angel, spare an angel, spare an angel.

Oh, I don't know what else to pray this time, maybe an angel can lead her lonesome heart away to Jesus' side...

Can you spare an angel tonight, send a little help from Your side, cause somebody's lost down here. Let him wing his way through the dark, carry some of Your love into her heart, can You spare an angel, spare an angel, spare an angel.

~Chris Rice, "Spare an Angel"

Hmm... this song hurts me for some reason. In that little place between the stomach and the liver, there's a place that digests music. Right now, it hurts a little right there in that spot. It would be so easy to blame myself for stuff, but I think I have done enough self-blame lately. All I can say is I started loving the person rather than the soul, and maybe that's where the problems started. I wish I had the heart of Chris Rice. And at the same time, I don't. It is such a wonderful thing to love both.

Stone of Tears

by Terry Goodkind. "Only a fool walks into the future backwards." ~Trimack, commander of Lord Rahl's army.

If only a fool walks into the future backwards and all my street signs are pointing to my past, then it must be a foolish path indeed that I am walking.

Sparks. Leo. Cancer. Virgo. One way street signs. Wrong way street signs. Fire. Tapioca.

Bleh.............................................

Shame

As you all probably know, I am obsessed with Postsecret.com. Well, this week, there was one picture that really kinda caught my attention.

Still, the thought of writing on a baby's forehead is about as creepy as Anne Geddes making them into things other than babies.

Update

In the infamous words of Mr. Cyrus: "I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO RECORD MY LIFE! ARGHH!!"

Backstepping a bit to my trip to Michigan. 16 hours driving out there, split over two days. Wow. I did a lot of sleeping, reading and thinking. I read a 900+ page book in about 6 or 7 days. That's good for someone who is also balancing things like shopping in Charlevoix, helping repaint my grandparents' garage and shed to match the new house colors, swimming, using my now-uncle's Sea*doos, playing Eucher with my grandparents, listening to my whole extended family spontaneously and randomly burst out singing off-key "Goin' to the chapel and I'm goin' to get ma-air-air-reed," putting out my brother/cousin's bonfire, making s'mores, exploring my old favorite haunts, and seeing everyone and their mother, literally, as they all poured into East Jordan days before the wedding.

Wedding day, Friday, we all get ready and assemble at the adorable stone chapel of Saint John Nepo-something-or-other. At 4:00, the priest came out with the groom, just as planned. At 4:10, the groom is wondering if he's been stood up, at the altar. Whispers in the back, "runaway bride" abound. For those of you who don't know my aunt, which is probably most of you, she's been engaged four times, but never married until now. It seemed to be the real-life runaway bride story.

She finally shows up, much to the relief of my new Uncle Dan. They are exchanging vows, and the priest says, "please indicate your intentions to commit..." or something along those lines. They both said something like, "I do" or "I will." The priest looks at them and says, "That would be a yes." They sort of falteringly said yes, and then he continued. The next time, they said yes without the priest correcting them and he stopped and said, "See? They learn! That's good."

When the service was over, with the priest's characteristic and corny "Aaayyy-MEN!" whispers began. Why was she late? What happened? There were multiple stories going around, but here's what I gathered: The limo shows up to get her and its rusted out with cracked leather seats and the stuffing showing inside. She says "No way in heck I'm getting in that on my wedding day." Good thing because the limo wouldn't even start after that. So the bridesmaid loaned the chauffeur the use of her Escalade. Which took them 10 or 15 minutes to sort out.

Yep. East Jordan. Surprising they actually had a limo service.

Anyway, on to the reception. Aparently, there used to be a dairy farm in Charlevoix made of stone walls. In the 60s, the ceiling collapsed. In the 70s, a stage was built for outdoor rock concerts. Finally someone realized, "Hey, these walls sorta look like a castle, complete with turrets. We could fix this place up and hold wedding receptions here. I bet we'd make a lot of money." And they did. The stage was removed and replaced with a giant chessboard. The dairy wings on either side of the stage became the King's and Queen's castles. The silo gained a set of stairs and an elevator to the King's banquet hall in the loft. The backside of it all became the Queen's tavern, with a tent for an outdoor reception. And the separate barn on the other side became the Knight's castle, which is where my aunt's reception was. And this whole thing is made of stone, and its gorgeous now that they've fixed it up.

Anyway... with the exception of my cousin's girlfriend of 8 years getting wasted enough to sleep in his car in a pool of her vomit... the reception went beautifully. There was even a point where the groom was called out on the dance floor (he didn't know why) so that all the women in the place could come up and put little lip stickers all over his body. Kind of a weird concept, but it was fun. At the end, my aunt got to place the last "kiss" sticker and they danced to the funky hip-hop music. It was cool, and the food was fabulous. The music was not my generation, but there were three good songs, although during two of them my mom made me talk to her cousin, who it turns out, has a blue belt in Brazilian Jujitsu. So that was kind of cool because he was the only one in the room who really understood anything I said related to any form of jujitsu. Eveyone else either avoids the topic or tries to make conversation on something they don't understand. And its nice to know there's a fellow jujitsuka in the family.

It was also cool seeing my cousins dancing with my grandparents, and Uncle Dan's children (my new cousins) dancing with my old cousins. I guess there's something about weddings that really pulls people together. With the exception of my Aunt Wanda (she's now divorced from my Uncle Chuck, so not really Aunt anymore, except that she's my cousins' mother) and my cousin Gena and her husband and two kids, everybody descended from my grandparents was there with their spouses and children. It was cool. I haven't seen some of them in many years.

The next day, pretty much everyone from the reception came to my grandparents' house for the annual pig roast, which was much larger this year in order to celebrate Aunt Jill's wedding, Aunt Charnell's birthday, and a family friend's anniversary. There was even a blues/jazz guitarist hired to sing for the day.

The best man at the wedding was there at the pig roast, and he took us out on the waverunners to teach my brother how to waterski. I got to be the spotter, which meant that while he's skiing and we're going really fast, I'm sitting backwards on the seat. It was kinda cool. My brother got up in three tries and then went about 5 times, on some pretty rough waters that we had that day. We came in, ate, and then my brother decided to go out again to try the wakeboard. I didn't get to be the spotter for that one because the kid with mono who knew how decided it would be cool to be the spotter in rough water on a chilly day with the risk of falling in the water and having his liver fail from stress on top of the mono. Bright child. Anyway, my cousin Luke took me out on the other waverunner while they were doing the wakeboarding thing. He promptly baptized us both by flipping the Sea*doo, leaving it upside-down, idling in the water. After turning it off, we had to figure out how to get it upright again (this was the second time that day that it had been upside-down) and to top it off there's a storm coming, so its breezy with no sun, making the water a really nice temperature.

We got everything straightened out, we had a blast, and then came in out of the rain. (It wasn't rainy all day- storms brew quickly over the lake.) Then my dad decided he wanted to leave. We had another 16 hours of driving to do before Monday when he had to go back to work. None of us wanted to, but we all knew there was no other choice. It was as late as we could possibly let it get. It was the first time I've been out there when not one of us wants to leave. Which is saying a lot about my homebody brother who wasn't even going to come until the Creation Festival was cancelled. It was nice to see us bonding. It was also nice to see how grown up my cousins are now. I really respect them and look up to them, despite the fact that many of them are younger than I.

Anyway... driving home I had finished my book, so I did more thinking, and interupted it with reading my Nordstrom manual. Not much to talk about there.

I went straight back to work on Monday, and on Tuesday went to jujitsu. Barb talked about how a lot of the blue belts have had a sort of apathy lately, or their techniques will sort of plateau and then stay there because they aren't interested in what feedback the blackbelts can give them. She made it sound like it was a mental thing- when we do a technique we don't do it whole heartedly anymore. Which makes sense. I'm not sure about anyone else, but I could identify the feeling. I thought it was just me though. I didn't realize it was pretty much all the blue belts. Which is why I haven't been going lately- because I'd rather not practice than practice with my heart not in it and have that lack of heart enforced by the practice. But since Barb doesn't know that is one of my reasons for not going, she might even see that as my lack of heart. She said something about all the people who were absent.

So our focus of the day was on intentions. How to do something, even just walking up to someone, with intention. When you parry and grab a wrist, you parry and grab the wrist because the wrist is yours and belongs to you. Not because that's how the art is supposed to go.

We each got to pair up with a blackbelt, which was cool because we don't often get that one on one blackbelt attention. I chose to work with Scott, because I knew that I respond well to his teaching style. Better than some others. It was good. I could feel myself improving in ways I haven't done before.

However, at one point, he said, "Ok that's good. Your intentions are good. Now, try having the same intention, but smile a little. Even in self defense, you are allowed to enjoy what you do. Its an art."

I wasn't feeling it, but I did. I allowed myself a little smile as I did a stime (aerial somesault sort of thing- like throwing myself) and said to myself, "Smile, mean it, mean the art, do it because you love jujitsu." I had this gnawing feeling. "I don't know if I love jujitsu." But I smiled anyway and discovered that a simple smile can change your outlook. After that, I told myself "Do this because you love it" before doing anything that terrifies me or with which I struggle. Sometimes, I don't love it. But I told myself that in such a way that I could actually believe I do love it.

Its scary because it lends truth to the idea that when you live as an actor, you lose sight of who you are, in place of all the characters you've learned to put on. It means that if I smile enough, eventually I will believe I want to smile.

Anyway... on that note. I'm tired. Its 5 am. It took forever to write that. I'm going to bed now. Bye.

thinking...

I'm not sure if this is going to be cryptic or not. I'm not trying to revert to that little experiment of not sharing with people. But some things just can't be said. Ever. I have to have my secrets. Have to. Its not anything against any of you. But yes I do have a secret that I will take to my grave. Its bugging me right now, so the only thing I can do is vent my feelings without sharing the circumstance.

I've been doing a lot of thinking... and have realized that although honey-glazed almonds are good and healing and special, white chocolate hazelnuts do more for me, and I don't appreciate them enough.

Yeah you know what. I can't compare my friends to a bunch of nuts. So this post is a moot point.

I can't vent here like I used to be able to do. Things have gotten so complicated in the past half year or so.

cool thing on a friend's myspace.

Write nine statements, aimed at different people.
Never tell which one is to who.

1. Get some self-esteem pills already. You're better than you think.

2. I wonder if you'll ever know.

3. I wonder if I'll ever tell you.

4. Totally no offense, but you people are a bunch of idiots. You should have seen it coming.

5. Its been cool getting to know you as a good christian sibling in Christ that I can look up to.

6. I wonder what it would be like if I were a person more compatible with you.

7. Can you let go of me?

8. I wish we could be better friends.

9. You say you can't change, but I think you can.

*Bonus* 10. You are so incredible and I love having you around.

God's grace.

Soo... Anissa, Steve and I were hanging out in her room tonight, battling the heat, and catching up on stuff after work. I'll give you the details on that later... but we heard some commotion next door, not uncommon, cause there are a lot of people over there, and a lot of times there are friends there too. Its the social hangout.

Next thing we know there are at least ten police officers outside, standing a bit of a distance away from their house. Which of course, put them on our doorstep. Anissa had to go meet her cousin, but he couldn't park because of the cops blocking traffic so we walked around the corner. On the way back, Anissa stopped to talk to one of the neighbors.

It turns out they were robbed at gunpoint by six guys. When Anissa heard the descriptions of them, she went over to the police, because they were the guys she'd been watching as they walked up and down the street.

Bottom line is... my life and the lives of two people very dear to my heart were in danger tonight and I didn't know it until afterwards. They should have come here. Anissa's on crutches, Steve was prone on the floor studying, I was on the couch counting out $250 in cash. We had all the doors and windows open because it was so hot, and next to me was my purse containing my passport, birth certificate, and social security card (which happen to be here in New Brunswick so I could fill out paperwork pertaining to my first day at work). Yet instead of picking a house where three girls live (plus one boyfriend who's around a lot), they instead chose a house where there are 5 guys living just in the downstairs apartment. We were an easier target, but we were spared.

As my brother said, "They know where the jujitsu lives." But, I think its something more than that. I wonder what they saw as they looked at our house. Sometimes I feel like the blessings I've been praying onto this house really pay off. Sometimes the house just feels safer than usual. I wonder if when they looked at the house, the spiritual atmosphere intimidated them.

I wonder all that because, as much as I'd like to attribute it to that, I'm not sure I can. Yes, I still pray. But I haven't been quite as "spiritual" as I used to be or would like to be. I don't know. All I know is, something protected us tonight, for which I am deeply thankful.