Screw up day...

I want to write about my awesome weekend. However, I'd probably mess it up and accidentally insult someone's mother. I have messed up a bazillion times today so I am afraid to attempt screwing up an account of a great weekend.

In short, I should have come home when I originally planned (but I didn't because I was too tired to drive). If I had done that, I would not have had to wake up at 8 am. I would have been able to resist the urge to stay eight more minutes under the covers. I would not have gotten stuck in morning traffic on 287, and would not have had to drive home to get my uniform because I would already have been there. I would not have been 7 minutes late for work, and would not have left my license in my other pants (not the uniform).

After that escapade I contemplated staying home instead of going out as I had said I would this Monday, but received a phone call begging me to be there. So, I made another phone call saying I'd make it to part of it. But not all. In the end I got to that one late, for some unexplained reason of which I am not even aware. I did have my license on me by that time though. And of course leaving I screwed up and went the wrong direction.

That being said, I am NOT going to tell you about my awesome and flawless weekend (except for losing 17 cents) involving a birthday party and a Jewish wedding. I will have to save it for tomorrow.

Oh yeah. And if you didn't figure it out, I found a job, which I didn't tell you all about except perhaps individually, because it is not a victory for me, nor is it a failure. But I suppose I will save that for another day as well.

While I sleep, enjoy this.
Birdies

New Year's Resolutions a little bit early.

I am watching the movie Super-size Me. I had to stop in the middle because I'm feeling sick to my stomach over it.

Resolution 1. I want to eat nothing but home-grown salad for the rest of my life.

Resolution 2. I want to exercise more. Like every day for 4 hours.

Resolution 3. My kids will go to a school ONLY IF that school has a strict exercise program, as well as a health class at least once a week. If not, they will be homeschooled.

Resolution 4. My kids will bring a bag lunch to school. They will not bring money with them to school, because they will not be buying lunch there.

Resolution 5. Heck, I'm not having kids. They are better off and safer as eggs in my ovaries.

On a slightly more serious note...

In Christianese, there's a phrase people say to those who are struggling with something. If I have a problem, particularly a lot of worries, the phrase someone would say to me is, "Lay it down," followed by some designated location for such a struggle, such as at the foot of the Cross, at the feet of Jesus, at the throne of God, and so on and so forth. A similar concept would be the jujitsu term, "sutemi." It is an abandonment of the self, letting things go so that something better can happen.

A while back, I was struggling with something. It was a constant thing for me, every week, I would "lay it down" and ask God to take the pain away. And every Sunday (and a lot of nights in bed), crying and giving everything over to God was somehow relieving to me. And then I noticed that a few hours after all that happened, the pain would come rushing back like a boomerang and hit me in the face.

So I stopped all that, and I decided that if that crap wasn't going to stay there at God's feet then what was the point of wasting all those tears and all that time to lay it down there? For a long time I had a quite uneventful church life. It was awesome. I won't say I was "mad" at God, because I wasn't exactly mad but there were things I didn't understand and didn't have the energy to try to work it out. Kind of a lover's quarrel or something. I stayed away from church emotionally and it was great. I didn't have to deal with the changes our church went through, I didn't have to deal with the family with the crazy kids, and I didn't have to worship a God who couldn't hold onto my problems for me. I was there physically but my mind was blank. I went to the Caribbean while my body went to church.

Today though, we had a different speaker than usual, one of the elders, and the father of an elementary-school classmate of mine. The sermon was about how God is always trying to speak to us, whether we listen or not. I started thinking about some of the things I've been reading here and there that may have been God talking, if I'd been listening.

I read something just last night, that suggested maybe instead of seeing God as the Author who controls the whole story, maybe we should see God as the main character. The Gospel of John starts out with "In the beginning" just like Genesis. John takes it farther back than the beginning of the world. John talks about intimacy within the Trinity. The whole thing, then, might be about God, not us. Maybe we're just supporting actors, the ones God interacts with.

As I sat there, listening to my friend's dad preach, I was wondering what it is that God could be saying to me. I wondered why I would try to listen when I felt like He let me down, and all of a sudden a thought popped into my head. "Why do you think God let that pain come back and haunt you all those times?" I hadn't really tried to figure it out. Maybe there's a reason. Could it be that by remaining in pain caused by a certain person it will keep the topic fresh in my mind and will keep me praying for that person? Could it be that person really needs prayers right now? Could a highly talented author who once wrote "prayer gives strength to the angels to fight your demons for you" have been dead-on accurate?

As if to confirm what I was thinking, I heard a song on the radio today that had the lyrics "why would You ruin my life to show Your love?" and I thought... y'know, that's kinda how I feel. Its like the country song, "Jesus loves you, I don't." Just because I can't bring myself to care about this person anymore is no reason God doesn't care about them and its no reason I should stop praying for them; its no reason to deprive that person's angels of the strength to fight the demons in their life.

Soo... to sum things up... God never stopped talking to me, I stopped listening, and started again today. It doesn't mean everything's alright with us again, it doesn't mean I got all my questions answered or even that I understand in plain English what God's saying to me. But its a step in the right direction. Or A direction, anyway. Better than standing in the middle of the road with an upside-down map and a Polaroid camera.

Ok thats all.

My widdle black belt!

Awww, isn't he cute?? I wonder if Ma will let me keep him... hope he's housebroken.

Congratulations, Stevie!

cooking with Anissa

Last week, Anissa came to help me be sick. We made soup and it was good haha. She told me that she loved being in my kitchen. Why? Because nothing matches. The following pictures would make her mother have a stroke.

BTW, one glass is missing because its the only one of the set and its in the dishwasher. I didn't count the mason jars that we drink out of, or the mugs, or anything used for alcoholic drinks, or the 1950s style tin cups that mom just HAD to have a few years ago.


Behold, one representative from each of our 8 incomplete silverware sets! Plastic doesn't count.

Carrots, Eggs, Coffee

No, its not a new breakfast menu.

Its kind of a rant and kind of not. You see, in the past week I have discovered I can tell the difference between a cold and allergies, and my body has transitioned seamlessly from one to the other and back again. Kudos on the great teamwork, Body. You are really doing a great job making me want to shoot myself. In the past three days I have lost my appetite, five pounds, and all desire to sleep. And starting tonight, I am itchy all over my body with no visible rash or hives to prove there's a problem. I am also trying to find a job, clean up my room and my life and my mental state of mind, and sort out how much jujitsu I actually want in my life these days. Why am I telling you this?

Because tonight, I was cleaning out my email account and came across an email from my mom. The story is that the daughter went to her mom and said, "Everything in my life is going wrong. I solve one problem and another pops up." Her mother took her into the kitchen and put three pots of water on the stove. She put carrots in one pot, eggs in another, and coffee beans in the third.

After 20 minutes of boiling, the mother turned off the stove. She fished out the carrots and put them in a bowl, the eggs into a second bowl, and ladled the coffee beans into a third bowl. She asked her daughter to feel each one and tell her what had happened. The daughter asked her mother what it meant.

"Each of these items experienced the same adversity: boiling water. The hard, unrelenting carrots were made soft and limp by the water. The egg with a liquid interior became hardened inside. But the coffee beans remained the same. It was the boiling water that changed. When things get tough, be yourself. Don't change because of circumstances, but do your best to change the circumstances rather than let them dictate who you should be."

Its an interesting concept. Sometimes I think a little change is good for me, so I don't know that this is entirely accurate. But it is a curious thing to be coffee. I am not exactly sure what I should be changing my circumstances into. If my problem is that Northern New Jersey has a limited number of jobs available, how exactly do I go about changing the circumstances and adding jobs to the market? If my problem is my body isn't healthy anymore, isn't that difficult to change? My point is some circumstances aren't changeable so this email is overly ambitious. But it is good to be coffee I think. If nothing else, when you are coffee, people will depend on you to wake them up. Plus, not everyone likes eggs. Coffee, even if you hate the taste, still smells good.

Money

The dollar. Money can buy a house, but not a home. It can buy a clock, but not time. It can buy you a position, but not respect. It can buy you a bed, but not sleep. It can buy you a book but not knowledge. It can buy you medicine but not health. It can buy you blood, but not life. So you see money isn't everything, and it often causes pain and suffering. I tell you this because I am your friend and as your friend I want to take away your pain and suffering. So send me all your money, and I will suffer for you. After all, what are friends for?

ahh Rutgers and life in good ol' NJ

Crying when you're sick is bad. It irritates the sinuses and only makes you feel worse. Usually the only reason you are crying is because you already feel bad from being sick, so it is pointless to cry. Therefore, I should not.

I thank God every day my parents had the money to get me a degree in Theater Arts.

Next degree: a health profession, so when I get upset I can eat homemade fried oreos.

Whats the opposite of a fever?

I'm running an underfever of 97.4. I am achy and cold all over and my nose has not stopped running since I cleaned my room like a madwoman yesterday. My throat hurts from the postnasal drip. Orange juice would be yummy if only it didn't hurt so much going down. Sleeping would be fun if the room would stop pulsing when I lie down.

Maybe I should check the temperature again and see if there was a mistake. Hmm... yep. 97.7. That's still an underfever. What do you call it anyway?

9-11 memorial

On September 11, 2000, my good friend C discovered her mother had passed away in the bedroom, only in her 40s. This day of mourning belonged to her before it ever belonged to America. The terrorist attacks not only stole lives, but took away a day that should have been private. Today I remember C before I remember NYC.

Just the same, it is impossible to get through the day without someone somewhere mentioning memorials. I happened to be down near Rutgers when mom left a voicemail. "Please, if you can, stop by at the memorial that 99.1 FM is doing. If it weren't so far away I'd go myself, but you will be passing by it on your way home."

The memorial in question was organized by a local Christian radio station. I believe the idea for it was based on the old saying about people who have to step up and fill your shoes when you leave a position. The premise is that when those people died they left a lot of empty shoes to fill. Listeners were asked to donate shoes in memory of lost loved ones. Mom asked for pictures, so I figured I'd stop in. Its been an emotional week anyway, and September 11 is just icing on the cake... if cake is equivalent to tears. That made no sense, but yeah that's the frame of mind I'm in right now.




The kid was kind of acting up, but this is him calming down, and a second after I snapped the picture, he moved in and gave his dad a hug.


2000 pairs of shoes...


Today was appropriately rainy.


Fireman's boots.


"Your granddaughters are beautiful; last week their daddy was inducted into the Yonkers Fire Department, please be with him."


My friend's father was a firefighter. As we both graduated from high school, and then college, I periodically thought of him. She's married now; I hope heaven is like the Family Circus clouds, where they look down on earth like they're watching TV. I hope he's enjoying the view.







I had to go back to the car for tissues but then I walked around again. Driving home, the rain became torrential. I was going 45 in a 65 zone, and couldn't see the cars 20 feet ahead of me. I had to follow a car with trouble lights on because I could see the yellow lights. Red taillights were invisible. I didn't mind though. It seemed appropriate, like all of heaven is crying today.

A story...

Soooo. Several of you know the story of our cats. But not all. So here goes. When our indoor-outdoor cat, Fluffy, died a few years ago, my parents decided no more pets. They wanted to be free to travel without hiring a neighbor kid to take care of them.

That worked for a while, until mom began to feel the effects of the empty nest as my brother and I got older. I went to college and she rescued an abused guinea pig. My brother went to college and she started feeding some wild cats. Eventually, my parents made the decision to have all the cats fixed in order to prevent mom from becoming the Cat Lady with 56 cats. The first one they caught had feline HIV, so he had to be put down. Another died on the busy street outside my house. The next one, Slinky, came away disease-free, and also future-generation-free. Finally came Sister. The vet said "I can't operate yet, she's pregnant." So mom found an animal hospital that was willing to do cat abortions. She got there and the vet's assistant said, "I volunteer at the animal shelter and we have a waiting list for kittens so I'd like to take care of Sister until the babies are weaned." She talked mom into it and as a result, Sister, a wild cat, spent the entire summer in a dog cage. She had room, but she was used to having acres to run around in. So in my opinion they tortured her, when they really should have just gone ahead with the abortion. But they are all cat freaks over there, so its totally unthinkable that you kill kittens. Funny how no one bats an eye anymore when you say that about a human abortion.

But, one day mom got a phone call saying "Congratulations, you're a grandma!" A few more weeks went by and the kittens were weaned, and Sister cried for them all night. A few days later (this morning), Sister received her little hysterectomy, and mom took the kittens. Amazingly, there was a huge waiting list for kittens two months ago, but for some reason now that they are born, no one wants them. Fancy that. So mom went to see Sister under the effects of anesthesia, and picked up the kittens and brought them home, "until they can be put in good homes." My parents don't know it yet, but we are keeping at least one of them. We already need someone to come over and feed Slinky and Sister when we go away, so if there are two, why not another?

Anyhoo... We need some naming suggestions:


When I walked in the kitchen and picked this one up, he took a flying leap out of my arms from 5 feet up. He also climbs on things, and in general, is a daredevil. He has huge ears, and when he is tired, plops himself down on the floor wherever he darn well pleases. Some suggested names for him have been: Yoda, Jack, Evel Knieval, Evil, Lyle (from the movie Italian Job- Lyle's nickname was Evel Knieval).



This one is friendly. She is quite comfortable around people, and likes to play with gusto. She has huge feet and also has markings that are unique from her siblings' markings (the stripes go along the body instead of down the sides). At the moment she has a little digestive problem. Some suggested names for her have been Spez (a cross between Spaz and Sped), Snowshoes, Stinky, Tiger, or some version of the word Ocelot. However, Ocelot will be voted down unless a unique version of it can be found because there is already a cat in the family named Elsie Ocelot.



The third one looks a lot like the male in the litter, except a darker shade. She can be friendly, shy, playful, or adventurous, depending on her mood. She's a lot like me actually. She hit all those moods in the space of an hour. Some suggested names have been Minnie, Baby, Runt, Marty, Shadow, and Little. As in, "Hey what's your cat's name?" "It's Little." "I can see that but what's her name?" "She's Little." "I hate you."

Lastly, there have been two suggestions for group names; in the order of the pictures they are: Yacko, Wacko, and Dot
Linus, Lucy, and Peppermint Patty.

Please vote on your favorite names!!

Notice!

For those of you who don't like Myspace, I have a few pictures on Flickr. You can see both Cape Cod and Michigan albums, and even view it in a slide show. Isn't that nifty?

For those of you who have a Myspace, check out my Michigan pictures there.

Random Interesting Fact

The origins of the phrase, "to the bitter end"

Taken from this book.

"Despite appearances, the phrase has nothing to do with bitterness. 'Bitter end' is a mid-nineteenth-century nautical term for the end of a rope or chain secured in a vessel's chain locker, or 'abaft the bitts'. When there is no windlass the cables are fastened to bitts, that is, pairs of bollards fixed to the deck, and when the rope is let out until no more remains, the end is at the bitts - hence the bitter end."

This still doesn't mean much to me, until you look up the other terms.

abaft: the nautical way of saying "behind"

bitt: a frame of two strong timbers fixed perpendicularly in the fore part of a ship, on which to fasten the cables as the ship rides at anchor... other bitts are used for belaying, sustaining the windlass etc...

bollards: the nautical way of saying "a post." Those things that stick up out of a dock or ship's deck that you wrap rope around.

windlass: an alternative to a capstan, that has the same purpose (hoisting up a heavy object like sails or an anchor).

capstan: In Pirates of the Caribbean 1 the first time Elizabeth Swan sees the pirates' true forms, she runs out onto the deck and gets spun around as the skeleton pirates are doing their chores. That spinny thing.

Yep... still means nothing to me. Guess that's why its a random interesting fact.

Random thoughts

I need to think random thoughts to make myself forget that my body is perpetually trying to sneeze, but never actually following through with it. Allergies are awful. I have not seen the sun since Saturday, which means everything is starting to mold which means in addition to being depressed from lack of Vitamin D, I also have to deal with allergies. So to cheer myself up, here are my random thoughts:

I changed the 45 watt bulb in my room to a 100 watt bulb and that helped a little.

I want a fingerprint scanner on my computer. That would be cool.

My brother's friends all graduated from high school this year, so he has been attending lots of going away parties as people disappear off to various colleges. Today he helped a friend move into her dorm. They discovered that apparently, Lions, Tigers, and Bears oh my were all taken as mascots, and Rutgers took the last cool mascots (the Knights and the Raptors) so her school got the Ducks. Not the Mighty Ducks, just the Ducks. And its Stevens Institute of Technology, so they are the SITting Ducks. The debate is on about whether its Stevens Hoboken Institute of Technology, or just Stevens Institute of Technology.

I want a chinchilla.

We have a central vacuum cleaner which means that the cannister is in the basement and you plug the hose into the wall. The problem with that is you forget to clean out the cannister every once in a while, just like you have to change a bag on a regular vacuum. I couldn't figure out why the vacuum wasn't working as well as it should and went down to check it out. It turns out it hadn't been cleaned out in at least 400 years, and when I pulled the cannister out, it was (not kidding) at least 15 pounds. FIFTEEN POUNDS of vacuumed up dust! Can you imagine that?? That's like an eighth of my weight. Put it all together and let God breathe life into it and you have a large cat.

Thats all for the random thoughts of the day.

EDIT: One additional random thought. Hershey's kisses with broken tops are no fun. They have to have a perfect point to bring full, lasting enjoyment.

Wow

I spent the day doing nothing and having no energy because this third day of rain is really depressing and I haven't seen the sun since Saturday. Finally, I forced myself to finalize a time to meet Anissa, get rid of the stuff I had set aside to give her, change a lightbulb that has been needing changing for three weeks now, and organize my bookshelf so there are no longer piles of books all over my floor. I stirred up a lot of dust, so I was grateful to get out of the house and meet Anissa for dinner.

We went to a place called Temptations, and had one of the most amazing meals in a very wonderful, eclectic atmosphere. Our waitress, as well as the other two employees there, were very personable, and the only other customers around were three college/postcollege students, who chatted with her about college and grad school. They all started talking about their favorite music, and as time progressed, the atmosphere became more and more like a dinner party with friends. Then, because it was a slow night, the waiter there turned up the Disney music, grabbed our waitress and started dancing with her around the room, singing Part of Your World in a high pitched Ariel voice.

From there, they began taking requests for any Disney song imaginable, and the two girls at the other table began singing along word for word. Anissa and I talked about how great it was to have so much fun with complete strangers.

It was simply a wonderful night and was, I think, the best use of my money I've found in a long time.

Speaking of dying on the parkway...

I forgot to mention the idea for a bumper sticker that I want on my car.

It should be a contrasting color to the color of the car, and it should have red and yellow flashing LED lights around the border. And it should say, "Use your damn blinker!"

That's all.

Random

I went to Walmart today, the new one that opened up close to my house. It is much better than the North Brunswick Walmart, which you have to have a passport in order to enter, and is reminiscent of that time my grandparents took me to a dusty, dingy Mexico town. When I'm at that Walmart, I always half expect a little Mexican girl to shove a box of bubble gum in my face yelling, "Un Quarto!! Un Quarto!!"

This Walmart, because of its proximity to a senior citizen's home, requires a wheelchair and/or a walker. I grabbed a shopping cart, hoping no one would notice it wasn't a walker, and took a look around. I discovered that this store is nestled on the side of a mountain, and is in fact looking over the entire Ramapo Mountain chain. Prime real estate. Like, for condos. I would pay extra to have a townhouse with a view like that. Why on earth would they waste it on a WALMART?? I'm tempted to become homeless and live in the parking lot at the Walmart.

So, I got inside, and there's another perk. Instead of the traditional McDonald's, or even worse, generic-brand McDonald's copy, there's a Subway!! Like where you can get vegetarian food with lots of real green vegetables. Wow. Walmart just went up a notch in my book.

Despite all the perks, I couldn't figure out why everyone I passed (guy or girl) was looking at my chest. I'm quite sure I haven't noticeably grown in that area, and I'm pretty sure that at breakfast I didn't spill on myself. What's everybody looking at? Do I have a preying mantis nursing on my chest? I glance down... Ohhhhhh. Right... I'm in the boondocks, and I'm wearing a jujitsu t-shirt with one guy getting thrown- what is that, Seoi Nage?- by another guy, both of them outlined in electric blue. Oops. I forgot.

Its a beige shirt, so I didn't think it was flashy. I forgot people up here don't know how to read so their eyes focus automatically on pictures. Hmm... I'll have to revise my wardrobe I think.

RANT #2

I'm on a roll tonight. Or maybe just easily pissed off. Don't get in my way for a while.

Why does Listerine find it necessary to put FD&C Blue #1 in their product? It has no effect whatsoever on elimination of bacteria. Jerks. Who told you that if its blue, I'm more likely to buy the product? What if I like brown? Or whatever color your product is before the Blue #1... Maybe I LIKE that color. Maybe its aesthetically pleasing. Maybe it reminds me of a brown teddy I had when I was little and I'll buy your product for sentimental reasons. In short, who SAID I WANTED A BLUE TONGUE???

thinking...

I hate change. My life is changing with or without me though, so its all a question of whether or not I want to mold myself to the changes or just get completely passed by.

By the end of the summer, I think I will be a completely different person from who I was when the summer began. I hope that I will recognize myself, that I won't miss myself too much, and that I will value myself more. I hope that in the changing, my friends will accept these changes so that I will not have to make new ones, but if I do, I hope that it will not be too hard.

I hope that you will be able to change with me and I hope that I will not cling to a fairy tale, but instead will find that some fiction is actually non-fiction.

I hope that I will believe in myself and trust myself enough to be able to let go of things. If I can let go, I can soar, or if not soar, then at least I will be able to enjoy a controlled fall.

awww...

Ok so I didn't have such a great week, which sets me on edge emotionally I guess. I also, after not seeing Steve for three weeks, had a reunion with him that somehow didn't go as I'd expected. Jujitsu on Thursday was quite mental and virtually no physical techniques which is also straining to an unpracticed mind like mine. So, add to that several hours of fairy tale romance, sobbing mothers, and guys who actually know how to dance... and its no wonder that right now I feel like crying, just to get it out.

Today, I went to Matt's wedding. Matt and I have known each other since I was in 4th grade. He's my little brother, so to think that now he's married... is just crazy. I remember tackling him in the yard playing soccer and riding to school playing "travel bingo." Its just nuts.

But, it was a beautiful wedding. The ceremony was perfect (although if it were my wedding I'd want the pastor to speak instead of read... but that's the theater major in me). The reception, here, was gorgeous. If I had the money, that's where I'd want my reception to be. In fact, they had my dream wedding. I'll probably end up with something different, just for budget's sake, but if I had no limit, it'd be their wedding, almost exactly.

The best man and the maid of honor were engaged as well, which made it extra special. They got up together to give the speech and Mike said something like, "Sharon, I've grown to know you and love you over the years, and if I could pick anybody to take care of you and love you for the rest of your life, it'd be my best friend Matt." Everyone kind of "aww-ed" and Mike said, "Wow, look at me, I'm a pansy." Everyone laughed and he dropped his voice an octave and said "I work out." It was great. Just like Michael.

The DJ and Emcee were excellent, and somehow, everyone was out dancing way before the food was brought out. Even more spectacular was that everyone managed to have a good time without "the big five" being played (Macarena, Electric Slide, YMCA, Cotton-eyed Joe, and Who Let the Dogs Out). To me, that is a sign of an excellent DJ, that he can have a great wedding where the dance floor is crowded the entire time until the very last song, without playing the popular "wedding/bar-bat mitzvah/baby-wedding shower/any and every other occasion involving a dance floor" songs.

The complete topper on the wedding, as I told someone a little while ago, is that my reaction to seeing them (now but also even before this) was "wow... I don't know if I could ever find someone I could be that in love with in a whole lifetime." I just don't know if I could have that much passion in my life. I wish I could, but I don't know how to generate that in myself. Perhaps it is their youth and energy. In the 7 weddings I've been to, this couple has been the youngest. I just don't know how they do it. It was probably the most romantic wedding I've ever been to.

Anyway... its late, so I'd better finish up the AWW feelings, have my cry, and go to sleep. Congratulations to Matt and Sharon!