my grandparents

I just have to say that grandparents are SUCH a blessing.  I just had a 20 minute conversation with my Grandma and Grandpa who live in Indiana.  It was a BLAST - we laughed, we caught up, we talked, and we just shared time together.  I am so unworthy to have such Godly examples of marriage and Christ-centered living in my life.  I'll write more about this later, but right now, I just wanted to share what was on my mind and heart.

that's all.

aaryn!

I got to see Aaryn at lunch today!  Her youth group was eating at GattiTown (if you think it's random that a church in Houston came to College Station just to eat lunch - YOU'RE RIGHT, but that's what makes youth ministry so fun!).  We played lots of games, and ate lots of food.  And yes, if you hear a rumor that i did Dance Dance Revolution, you'd be right - and I got an F on it too.  At last - I failed something besides my class this summer.  I guess that semester of Tap last spring didn't do much. oh well.

that's all.

hubcap

Alas, the hubcap did NOT listen.  He is gone for good...and I have no idea where he committed suicide. 

Oh well, at least he's with his long lost twin brother.

that's all.

hubcap mishap

Isn't that a catchy title?  I was impressed...you're probably not, but that's ok. 

You are now, undoubtedly, on pins and needles wondering what the title of this post could suggest...so here it goes.

Yesterday, I left work, went over to my car in the garage, you know the drill.  As I was driving down Houston Street to get to George Bush, I heard this AWFUL noise (upon hindsight this sounded suspiciously like a noise I heard on the way back to Graham this spring, when #1 was lost).  It was like I'd run over something glass or plastic, or some similarly horrific item.  I looked in my rearview mirror, nothing there, as I stopped at the red light, I opened my door, looked back again - nothing there.  My first thought was that a tire had exploded or something.  But the car was still driving ok, and still looked ok...I was just praying that if it was a tire, that it would stay inflated till I could get my tired butt home to fix it.  I decided to swing by target and Old Navy on the way (which considering the tire situation wasn't my smartest move) and then I, as I exited my vehicle...I saw it, the horrible realization hit me like a ton of bricks.  That horrible noise that I heard? 

It was MY HUBCAP!! 

I lost one in May, and apparently this guy didn't want to be alone on the Driver's side, so he jumped ship.  I was about ready to just throw all the rest away, claim that someone stole them and turn it in to the insurance, but then I realized that no one really steals crappy factory installed mini-van hubcaps. 

I went back after my group meeting last night, and there, about 150 feet from George Bush, he lay, face down in the bike lane.  Satisfied with himself - that he'd accomplished the feat, sad - that he'd been discovered, yet happy - that he was no longer alone.

I taught him a lesson.  I kicked him back onto the tire and told him not to try that again.  That there would be repercussions if he did.

I think he listened - he hasn't popped off again.

that's all.

 

model citizen

Today as I was leaving the rec this guy (one of those pretty boys that thinks a lot of themselves) was talking to one of the student workers at the towel desk.  She looked at him, rather uninterested, and said "So, are you still trying to be a model?"  **emphasis on the trying**  It was really funny, he blew it off, saying, "uh, well, I'm kind of on a break right now." 

On a completely unrelated note - the cheerleaders are back in town (someone please shoot me).  They were pumping the rec full of high pitched squeals and squeaks, sounding rather like a pack of mice.  Whatever happened to doing vocal training with cheerleaders so that they can lower their voices to carry farther and prevent bleeding from the ears of those listening?

that's all.

5.25"

Today at work my student coworker and I were cleaning out the back storage "closet" (aka the dumping grounds for the entire Student Programs Office)  and ran across a stash of 5.25" Floppy Disks.  Immediately I was taken back to 7th grade and a little game my friends and I used to play incessantly during Keyboarding.  That game, that glorious digital masterpiece, that marvel of modern technology, was Oregon Trail.  Ah yes, Oregon Trail - wasn't it a grand game!?  Then there was Lemonade Stand, but that just wasn't as cool, but an acceptable substitute when all the Oregon Trail disks were gone.  What I wouldn't give to play that game once more...does anyone have it, or know where I can download it?

The disks will soon be featured in the decor at our new house, look for them.

that's all. 

test

So you know that test that I took Friday and thought that I failed?

Guess what, I did.

A big FAT "F".

That's a first for me in college, and let me tell you, it's not a good feeling.

Despite all of this, I'm not dropping the class.  I can pull out a "C" or I'll die trying.

that's all.

on fire!?!

Wow,  a firefighter (several, in fact) attending his/her academy, smoking cigarettes outside the MSC today...

tell me that's not ironic.

 
that's all.

ob-nauseous

Saw "Bourne Supremacy" tonight.  it was pretty good.  Not as good as the first, but still pretty good.  I have come to the conclusion that I am really not cut out for the movies.  I just get bored and antsy after the first hour or so.  Maybe I've just gotten spoiled with live theater?  My biggest complaint with this flick, though, was the shaky camera work.  I mean, really, can we not have a stationary camera anywhere, EVER?  Perhaps this was supposed to add to the "realism" of the movie, but the 30 minute chase scene at the end was a bit too much.  I think that perhaps the whole experience was compounded by our locale within the theater, but my guess is that even for the back row, this was probably a bit much.  Stepping off of my soapbox, I'm actually glad I saw this one, unlike Spiderman 2 and Anchorman, and on that note, I've gotta hit the sack, it's been a loooooooooong week, culminating in a failed english test this morning.  At least I can sleep in tomorrow!  :-D

that's all.

sometimes i wonder...

Does anyone really read this thing?

So let's make a deal - you read it, you leave a reply.

I read yours, I leave a reply.

It'll be fun, and we'll all know that our writing and finger cramps are not in vain!

Cool?  COOL! :)


that's all.

Those not wishing to participate will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

birds, parking garages and outkast

You wouldn't really think these three had anything in common, right?  Well you'd be wrong.  First thing first - yesterday as I pulled into the garage, I noticed that all the numbers on the 4th floor where I park had been painted over with a large black rectangle.  All that is, but one: mine.  It was rather odd, I felt kinda special, but then I realized that it's just cause my car had been parked there the day before when they painted them.  Thank goodness it was, though - cause otherwise I'd of never found my spot. :)  Now onto the really fun thing - today as I was trekking from my car over the the elevators I noticed a lovely bird that was singing.   (ok, the bird was honestly not so lovely, but the song was cheerful).  It was then that I realized that this bird is an Outkast fan, or he possibly lives at the Rec Center where they play an Outkast song every 3 minutes.  This bird, no kidding, was singing, or whistling, or whatever you want to call it, the part in Hey Ya - you know, the "shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it like a Polaroid picture..."  This bird was hip, with the times, and apparently popular among his friends.  How refreshing - he'll probably attract massive amounts of other adolescent birds to our campus and we will once again return to the state of the fall of 2000 - spring of 2001 where our campus reeked of bird poo and you feared for the safety of your car's paint job and your hair. 

that's all.

my experiences with pants/shorts/and other clothing featured on the southern hemisphere of my body.

I'm not sure what the official Chinese year is, but it's certainly not the year of the clothing.
 
You see, there's a secondary issue with losing weight.  It's a great thing, don't get me wrong.  I feel better about myself than I have in a long time, or for that matter, ever, but it gets to be really expensive!  It starts with buying more expensive healthy foods at the store or at restaurants (should we really make it so that in order to avoid heart attacks and other diseases that we charge people out of house and home?).  But perhaps most poignant is the clothing.  You see, I've dropped 4-6 inches off of my waist, and as you can imagine, this means that you must buy new pants, or risk losing them at an inopportune moment.  At the beginning of the summer I purchased three new pairs of shorts (it's all I could afford, and besides, I'm still downsizing, so I didn't want to buy only to have to replace 6 months later).  The first shorts lasted approximately 3-4 weeks, when on a fateful night in June, on a Vacation Bible School excursion to Wal-Mart with hundreds of 6th graders, they were ripped on some sort of sharp protrusion in the cargo section of the church van (don't ask why I was there - it did not, I repeat did NOT have anything to do with a shortage of seats/seatbelts).  The rest of the evening was spent yanking my shirt tail down past my butt to ensure that I didn't expose the underoos to the rest of the world.  The second pair of shorts now have a large stain on the front, and I have no idea where that came from.  But the final pair, the one pair that remained untainted, last night joined its friends in a situation described in short (get it, in short?) by an evil door jam, you know, the little metal plate where the door closes, it REACHED OUT OF ITS IMMOBILITY and RIPPED A BIG HOLE in the pocket.  WHAT IS GOING ON, Can't a man not have clothes that fit?  All this compounded with the 2, that's right, not one, but 2 pairs of jeans that went the way of the bike chain this winter is just not making me a really happy camper.
 
Oh well, at least I look skinnier inside my holey clothes.
 
that's all.

interview, or mtv show? i mean, really...

I'm helping to interview for a new staff position called Communication Coordinator in the MSC.  Yesterday we had two interviews and one candidate managed to drop an "f" bomb, countless "P" bombs and tell us about the time he got wasted before a big event in his last job all within the span of an hour.   
 
High Class, buddy, high class.  
 
P.S. -  to those of you interviewing for anything in the future - try hard NOT to use curse words, and even better, try to actually ANSWER the questions that are asked of you.  Don't be afraid to stop and think before you talk. 
 
that's all.

who's afraid of the big bad virginia woolf?

Eric Lee said that he looked inside himself to discover that he did not approve of the stream of consciousness method that Virginia Woolf uses.  I hate it.  As a matter of fact, I hate ALL the novels I've read in my 1870-present British Lit. class this term.  Actually, I hate everything.  Ok, not really, but I'm not kidding about the literature.  This madness has got to stop!
 
that's all. 

sterling street - goodbye, tchuse, adieu

Last night I came to the awful realization that in a little less than four weeks I will be leaving my house on Sterling Street here in College Station.  To many, those who harassed and ridiculed me relentlessly about living in "the ghetto," or at the very least the "edge of the ghetto," this would not be an important nor monumental occurence.  However, to me it is.  There are so many things that I will miss about Sterling.  The yapping dogs at 3 in the morning, barking for no apparent reason, but to be barking.  The Old man walking the 1 1/2 year old boy down the middle of the street each morning.  The little old ladies who frequent their front porches and stare at you as you drive by.  The "Night Life" car (that's really its name-it's plastered across the back window) that belongs to my neighbor.  The congregations of people in front yards, and more often the street.  The wonderful dip that bottoms your car out every time you turn onto my street, and for that matter, into my driveway.  The homedone brick mailboxes that look more like the work of a 5 year old than a brick mason.  The neighbors son who does flip-flops in the strip of green grass between our houses.  The incessantly large amount of cats who take over the world around 9 pm each night.  And the children running around my house, and through my backyard unannounced. But perhaps most of all, the bike man who rides up and down the street at, quite literally, all hours of the day, night and morning.   These things are what makes Sterling what it is, they are what make Sterling "the ghetto."  I hope that someday I'll be able to give back to Sterling just a little of what Sterling has given to me.
 
that's all.

hello.
 
I've been informed I need to post more.  WELL I'M SORRY, BUT I'M DOING THE BEST I CAN, OK?  haha  Check out the new link for the library musical in my "fun stuff" section.  One word - Hi-lar-i-ous!  Y'all have a good one! 
 
that's all.

boldness or timidity?

Father, hear my prayer
I need the perfect words
Words that he will hear
And know they're straight from You
I don't know what to say
I only know it hurts
To see my only friend slowly fade away

So maybe this time I'll speak the words of life
With Your fire in my eyes
But that old familiar fear is tearing at my words
What am I so afraid of?

Chorus:

'Cause here I go again
Talkin 'bout the rain
And mulling over things that won't live past today
And as I dance around the truth
Time is not his friend
This might be my last chance to tell him
That You love Him
But here I go again, here I go again

Lord, You love him so, You gave Your only Son
If he will just believe; he will never die
But how then will he know what he has never heard
Lord he has never seen mirrored in my life

This might be my last chance to tell him
That You love him
This might be my last chance to tell him
That You love him

You love him, You love him




What Am I so afraid
What am I so afraid
What am I so afraid of?

How then will he know
What he has never heard?

- Here I Go Again, Casting Crowns

This song is awesome. How often has this described me and my courage to share what I believe. I pray that I will set my fears aside and boldly live and share what Christ is to me!

that's all.

who needs pop-a-lock?

I got home a bit ago from dinner and after logging my points into my weight watchers book, I got out of the car, hitting the lock button as I went. As soon as it was closed, I realized the unthinkable. My keys were locked INSIDE, sitting in the ignition, no less. No problem, I carry an extra key in my wallet for just such an occasion. But big problem - the key wouldn't unlock the door, any of them. I tried both driver and passenger side and then went to the back hatch - and nothing would open. This was so frustrating. I had a key that should've opened a door - at least one of them, yet it wouldn't. I kept trying for 15 minutes and had just about given up, when I decided to try the trunk one last time. I prayed, "God, I really don't have the money to spend on a locksmith right now, please PLEASE let this work." I was already thinking about what I could do for the next three days while my parents mailed me another key, but then I realized that my housekey was inside the car, too. So I went back, crouched down in front of the keyhole and started slowly inserting the key, jiggling and turning as I went. Suddenly, when the key was a little over halfway in, it started to turn! I jiggled it some more and then - *click* that infamous GLORIOUS sound of the lock turning!! I was so excited I almost cried. I climbed through the van, unlocked the doors, said my prayer of thanks and went inside the house.

You know, it's little things like this - a simple lock that needed a bit of external coaxing that remind me that God is here for me in the little things too. All too often I wait until I'm in a major crisis to ask for help. But God wants to be there with me all along. How awesome that we serve a God and creator that loves us so much that he helps us take care of the little details, too. I'm blessed!

that's all.

spidercrap 2

I want a refund.
I want my 2 HOURS BACK!!

"Spiderman 2" is the worst movie I have seen since "Jeepers Creepers." Expectedly, the movie is a bit satirical and extreme, but the words "over the top" do not even begin to describe this poor excuse for cinema. The entire thing was comical, and I'm not talking about the jokes (although a sprinkling of these were worth their time). It was just too much. They took the whole thing too far:
Peter Parker has a complicated life. We understand that. But do we really need and hour and fifteen minutes of exposition about this? The entire subplot of the landlord and his waiflike daughter who could blow over in a strong gust of wind was completely unnecessary and added to the monotony of the first two thirds of the film.
The Octavias hospital scene is my next bone to pick. This sequence, which lasted at least 8 minutes was overly long and extremely too graphic. This belonged in a horror movie, not a action adventure that is designed to attract children. Speaking of, this movie is just another in a trend I've been noticing with movie ratings. Its PG-13 rating would have been R not very long ago. Apparently standards have changed in Hollywood, and that really bothers me. Our kids are exposed to enough without having to be at the movie theater.
J. Jonah Jameson, newspaper editor and played by J.K. Simmons, was ridiculous. His performance was completely distracting and detracted from the authenticity (if there was even any left) of the movie. It is based on a comic book, but this was out of control.
Rosemary Harris(who plays Peter Parker's aunt) gives the only performance in the movie that kept me watching. She has a lovely screen presence and brought a very realistic and touching portrayal to the character. At least we didn't have to see Willem Dafoe for more than 2 minutes of the film. That man has got to be one of the homeliest I have ever met.
The man behind me, snoring his way through the last half of the movie, was a good indication of the quality of the movie. I wanted it to end 45 minutes before it did, but I held on, hoping for a redeeming moment in the end. It never came, with the exception of a lovely three-quel setup. GREAT, another lousy Spiderman movie that will undoubtedly be a box office hit.

It's sad what America has come to settle for from Hollywood.

We should demand better.

that's all.

heb: a lesson

I've been meaning to tell this for some time now. Ok, not really all that long since it happened Tuesday, but whatever. After work, I went to HEB to grab some bread and produce. Little did I know that I was about to have one of the more interesting grocery store experiences of my lifetime. It started when I encountered a couple who was purchasing produce. (this is the serious part) They were using a calculator and really struggling with what to purchase - it was obvious that they were on a budget and that they had to carefully decide what they could and couldn't afford. It really made me stop and realize how fortunate and blessed I am. I have never had to stop and think - can I afford this?

Anyway, on to the funny stuff, don't want to get to philosophical and funny on you.

2 aisles later I encountered perhaps the most disturbingly bizarre thing I have seen in quite a while. Enter, around the corner, approximately 43 year old woman pushing a cart. (what's so disturbing about that, right?) Well let me tell you. In this cart was an, oh, 12 year old girl. Not in the big basket part, not in the little under part, but in the child seat. The girl was looking eye to eye, maybe 12 inches away from her mother as they shopped. WEIRD!!

And then came the self check out, where these BIMBO college women were. Apparently they missed the 20 item limit because they were there with a basket FULL of stuff. They couldn't figure out how to work anything. The poor woman working the counter was about to go insane. I was about to wet my pants from suppressing laughter.

To top the whole experience off I got home, opened the back of the mini-van, grabbed a couple of sacks and the small watermelon I purchased and then proceeded to drop it, splitting it wide open as it poured it's sweet juiciness all over the concrete. it was frustrating, it was sad, it was FUNNY!

that's all.

G-mail - A WARNING!!

Sorry about all the audio posts, guys. I was away from the computer for the weekend, and some things just had to be said, or actually you'd probably prefer that they weren't, but it's a little late for that now.

I was checking out this "gmail" that many of you speak so highly of. Needless to say, it looks rather suspicious. Check this out



TELL ME THAT AIN'T TRUE AND I'll tell you you're probably right, because who is this crackpot anyway? Whatever - I figured it was good for a laugh if nothing else.

That's all.