ATTN: Listeners

The following program is not to be listened to.

It was a cattle ship so I disguised myself as a steer and rode in steerage.

I have a new favorite radio show.
Too bad they stopped recording in 1960. I'll just have to get along on reruns.

The Crave Factor(TM)

Woohoo! I had my final lab practical in Wildlife Field Biology today. Salamanders are evil. Cara is awesome (thanks so much for the last minute cram session). Anyway, I did way better than I expected (God is good like that) and managed to find myself some Cheerwine in celebration.

I even did well on the birdcalls. This is only because I actually got a chance to review them yesterday during APEX rehearsal. Why was I practicing birdcalls at praise band rehearsal? How much could they possibly have in common? A lot, actually. Or at least the way we play things. This weekend, instead of the night of worship (where we rock) that APEX is usually responsible for, we'll be leading Sunday services for a change. At nlcf there is usually a "special song" during offering time, this week we are doing Tom Petty's "Learning to Fly" mixed with some of SNL's "cowbell" skit and--you guessed it--birdcalls. This should be all sorts of fun.

I'm really going to miss being in the band next year. While I haven't decided for certain, I don't think I'll be rejoining them next semester. I think I'll be finding another church to attend and, therefore, will need to step down from the team.

nlcf is a good ministry, they are certainly passionate, compassionate, and eager to see campus reached for God's glory...Their ministry style is just not what I'm craving.

Sometimes, in striving to keep things fresh and new, we become so focused doing things differently that we avoid anything resembling tradition at all costs. We are terrified to do things the way they've been done before. Sometimes, in trying to be different and interesting, we push things so far that we push away from their meaning, we shuffle things around and rearrange so much that we forget what the original picture looked like and why we wanted to look at it in the first place.

Easter Sunday was an interesting experience. Instead of a sermon, there were various testimonies interspersed with "mini-talks" each on a different theme. In the midst of it all there was "theme communion." There were different communion tables set up, each one corresponding to a different theme: Old to New, Despair to Hope, Sorrow to Joy, Sin to Forgiveness, and the like. We were encouraged to go to whichever table most resembled what God's grace means to us.

When did we start using themes in worship? Isn't praising the Almighty focus enough?
Why does every sermon need a catchy title? Isn't the Word catchy enough?
We are called to be do-ers, not designers.

I don't mean that themes can't help to focus or unify. They can work wonderfully. It is, however, incredibly easy to go too far. My (future) roommate and I want to have rubber duckies in our bathroom, which is going to be fun. But go too far, with ducky shower curtain, ducky towels, ducky bathmat, ducky soap dispenser, ducky toothbrush holder, ducky toilet cover, ducky light switch--and all the other ducky stuff they sell--and I'm going to have to borrow somebody's shotgun and get to huntin' me some ducks.

What if we were to go back to some of those traditional things we've been running away from? Or what if we were to ditch the cutesy and get back to the heart of it all? What if we were to turn away from the fluff and finesse and seek instead plain, beautiful honesty? We demand nothing less than Truth, what if we refuse to accept anything more?

Grass can sure start a nice blaze, but it's the solid wood that is going to keep the fire burning.

Intermission

I know, I've been slacking all month. Final stretch of the semester is here so it's not going to be getting any better. Oh the guilt. Things may be on hold for a while. But I've at least provided some good music (not that mood stuff that my dentist plays).

Friends say the darndest things.

"Hangin' out with the puddle."

Just call me Erika's stalker.

He didn't say it would be easy, He just said it would be worth it.

There's the type that have something to say
and the type that have to say something.

Forbid I should forget.

It's the Bard's birthday. I can't believe I almost missed it (although, his exact birthday isn't known for certain so I probably could have gotten away with it). So the closing lines from my favorite of his plays:

The weight of this sad time we must obey,
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say,
The oldest have borne most, We that are young
Shall never see so much, nor live so long.

-William Shakespeare; The History of King Lear

and the livin' is easy

Summer tastes like lemonade and strawberries;
smells like fresh-cut grass and the desert after a thunderstorm....

Only 2 more months until it's officially here.

For now, I've got a softball game to get to.

UPDATE: We won this game, too, 9-8. Go NAVs!

Since it's still April and Keats is my favorite:

Give me a golden pen, and let me lean
On heap'd-up flowers, in regions clear, and far;
Bring me a tablet whiter than a star,
Or hand of hymning angel, when 'tis seen
The silver strings of heavenly harp atween:
And let there glide by many a pearly car,
Pink robes, and wavy hair, and diamond jar,
And half-discover'd wings, and glances keen.
The while let music wander round my ears,
And as it reaches each delicious ending,
Let me write down a line of glorious tone,
And full of many wonders of the spheres:
For what a height my spirit is contending!
'Tis not content so soon to be alone.

-John Keats, On leaving some Friends at an Early Hour

I blame my parents.

I got my Plant Taxonomy test back today. I got a C. Not cool. I am disappointed in me. Despite it being a difficult test in a difficult class, I know that I did not study nearly as much as I could have and--had I studied more--I know I could have done better. It's not a big deal, when all is said and done it is just a test. It does bother me though. The fact is, I know I am not a C student, I never have been. I didn't put forth my best effort and I know that.

Why, oh why, did my parents have to raise me well? Why couldn't they just let the T.V. raise me like some parents do? I've watched the coming generations and they aren't all bad. Sure they've got a few quirks, but I'm sure those will all work themselves out...

Why did they have to support me, instill morals, and train me up in the way I should go? Really. Just think of all the stress that would just disappear if I just didn't care about grades, or class, or people. It's their fault I sat through Calculus today rather than going out and enjoying the beautiful sunshine.

um...ow?

I re-learned today the difference between "athletic" and "outdoorsy." And that you can be any combination of the two, or neither at all. I'm definitely more of the "outdoorsy" persuasion.

And roller-blading? Apparently not my thing at all. I used to figure skate so I didn't think it would be that different...oh so very wrong.

Roller-blading followed by swimming, followed by Charleston lessons, these added to the hikes of Friday and Saturday.

I'm going to go watch The Great Race (a classic) now, and maybe do some cross-stitch.

I waltz just enough to comply with tradition,
then I sneak off to more rewarding activities. BRANDY!!

--Prince Hapnik, The Great Race

Play Ball

Navigator's Co-Rec Softball came away with a 5-4 victory tonight.

I haven't played in so long...but it was great. I got to play right field (my old home) and then second. I've never played base before, I've never played infield before. Years ago I played in a community league. It was quite different tonight, playing with friends, knowing that it was all for fun, competition at a low.

Then, of course, we had to celebrate with ice cream at Deet's.

Now that the weight of my project is gone, the rest of this semester is going to be cake and I can go back to the spontaneity that I love without the guilt.

I know, I need to get back to things that are more than just an update on my daily life and I will, eventually...

For now, I've got some reading to catch up on now that I actually have the time.

Not that I need an excuse,

but it is still National Poetry Month; this one from Billy Collins:

Introduction to Poetry

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to water-ski
across the surface of the poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.

Comfort and Joy!!

Yay! My Wildlife Field Biology project is finally done! This is what has had me so tied up all week and weekend (hence why I didn't post anything for Easter...). But it is finished.

This means:

1) I never have to think about flight initiation in robins again.
2) I can post.
3) I actually get to go to bed now and manage a good 3 hours of sleep.

...and all was well...

My life wouldn't be the same

without my parents. Actually it wouldn't be at all.

Today was my parent's twenty-second anniversary. Their love has been one of the few constants in my life, one of the few things I could ever cling to. They are absolutely amazing. Never have I seen them argue with each other (with my brother and I, definitely). Truly a model, truly inspiring--flaws and all.

I want to tell you a story, but I've no idea where to begin, or even what it should be about. I could tell you of how I miss my dog, of family traditions, or even quote passages of essays I once wrote. I suppose I could pick any topic and pour myself into is, reaching into the very corners of thought in search of some revelation, clarification, inspiration. I would much rather write with no purpose, no structure, no goal; just put pen to paper, fingers to keys, and see what happens to emerge. Even seeing words before me I can feel ideas coming into focus, thoughts settling in on their perch--intellectual Ritalin.

Surprising, really, what a little order can accomplish. I'm amazed how mush time I've found now that I have so much to do. Adding tasks to my schedule has refocused my priorities. I find I have even more time for things like this. Refocus. This weekend I was on the verge of breakdown, I put things off until they are actually worth stressing over, and then it hits me in waves--and I start to shut down in defense. So this weekend found me fighting the shutdown. I nearly buckled when I realized I would be losing an entire hour.

Refocus. Worship Sunday morning and reading scripture. I was asked to read Psalm 22, which led me to read Psalm 24. Who is this King of glory? Even after the morning of worship and prayer, my hands still weren't lifted. It took focus, me focusing on the data I had to collect, forcing myself into observation mode for this project I've been working on. And the sky was an incredible blue, the clouds perfectly placed. In the midst of the headstrong winds, a voice asking "Do you remember who I AM?"

Right. Lord of hosts, wonderful counselor, my strong tower. I just have to be reminded sometimes.

I'd like to retire there and do nothing,
or nothing much, forever, in two bare rooms:
look through binoculars, read boring books,
old, long books, and write down useless notes,
talk to myself, and, foggy days,
watch the droplets slipping, heavy with light.

-Excerpt: Elizabeth Bishop's "The End of March"-

Busy Busy Busy

This week is going to be crazy. I refuse to declare a hiatus, that would be giving in to the fact that I'll be doing very little outside study this week....Of course, it's not like I update that often anyway; we'll see what I can manage.

This sums things up nicely:

I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much.
--Mother Theresa--

There is nothing wrong with dreary...

It's overcast, dripping rain, windy, and forty degrees outside. I absolutely love it.

This is perfect beach weather: rocky shore; stormy skies; wind cutting in off of the breakers, past your layers, past your flesh, into your very core...

National Poetry Month

Yep, April is National Poetry Month. In light of that, I hope to get some poetry up here periodically. I wanted to start with some Elizabeth Bishop but, as all my favorites of hers go for pages and I'm having the hardest time choosing an excerpt, she'll have to wait.

Since I need something we'll go with an excerpt from "Olive" from one of my own favorites:

The only thing he saw when he walked in,
was Olive.
She had her back to him,
standing at the sink,
washing the dishes.
The shelves around her were empty,
except for the pots.

And everything was color,
except for Olive.
A brown skirt.
Brown,
bland,
and Olive.

The dishes clinked,
stacked one at a time.
They would have to be dried,
by those hands.
Arthritic now
but then, past, so vary able.
Now they washed dishes,
slowly.

A Merry Un-Birthday to me.

I thought I had great friends before...
I need to revise that to say I have the greatest friends in the world.

Tonight, after bible study, I got another surprise party (this one included swing dancing and scrumptious cake).

{Pause, reflect, beam.}

So I had planned on coming back and writing an actual post (on something out of Hebrews) and then get to studying for the test I have bright and early tomorrow this morning. After the slight detour of the evening, I'm going to have to jump right into studying (as I haven't even started) for this test that is quite literally for the birds (feather structure, bones, etc.).

You know, since Wildlife is my major, I think I should get credit for some of my extracurriculars, especially if I can offer sufficient proof of wildness.

Going to get bird-brained now...