And the only solution is more HARRY POTTER!!!
So, surfing the internet this evening, I came across this playlist:
http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=464C6B6D83E45245&page=1
It's the story of Harry Potter, in a musical! The entire thing is posted. It's on my to-do list to watch the entire thing. Join me in this noble quest.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Food for Thought
The Geek and I were on a roll tonight. Some snippets of our conversation:
Upon telling him about the odd nomenclature of flowers, i.e. dianthus, amaryllis, etc. and how difficult it is to remember them all, he responded with this quip: "A rose by any other name is unmemorable."
And a question was posed by yours truly: "Would boxer shorts with the Xbox logo be rightly referred to as 'Xboxers?'
Think on those, my friends. It's summer, a time of blessed little brain taxation.
Upon telling him about the odd nomenclature of flowers, i.e. dianthus, amaryllis, etc. and how difficult it is to remember them all, he responded with this quip: "A rose by any other name is unmemorable."
And a question was posed by yours truly: "Would boxer shorts with the Xbox logo be rightly referred to as 'Xboxers?'
Think on those, my friends. It's summer, a time of blessed little brain taxation.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
My Bizarre Neuroses
In a further effort to really underscore just how OCD I really am, I believe I will start a series about my neuroses.
Up for first honor: my fear of cargo vans. Yes, you read it correctly. I am absolutely terrified of cargo vans; especially when the side windows are whited-out. I made the mistake of telling the Geek this, for which he began to make merciless fun of me.
It all began as a child, as all the best fears do. I was nearly blind, and had a habit of wandering off. My mother used to keep me on one of those child stretchy bracelet leash things so popular in the 80s. (Thank the Good Lord she did, otherwise I might be writing a post about how I had escaped a loony commune of hippies who had claimed me from the pound.)
Anyway, my mother told me that I should be careful around cargo vans, because bad men would pop out of them and "snatch" me. I didn't want to be snatched, so I stayed far away. This mantra of "snatching" was repeated throughout my young life, and into my teenage years. So, even to this day, I will park very far from the building to avoid parking next to a cargo van.
When the Geek found all of this out, he suggested there be a specific nomenclature for cargo vans, a code system, if you will. His "helpful" suggestions:
Up for first honor: my fear of cargo vans. Yes, you read it correctly. I am absolutely terrified of cargo vans; especially when the side windows are whited-out. I made the mistake of telling the Geek this, for which he began to make merciless fun of me.
It all began as a child, as all the best fears do. I was nearly blind, and had a habit of wandering off. My mother used to keep me on one of those child stretchy bracelet leash things so popular in the 80s. (Thank the Good Lord she did, otherwise I might be writing a post about how I had escaped a loony commune of hippies who had claimed me from the pound.)
Anyway, my mother told me that I should be careful around cargo vans, because bad men would pop out of them and "snatch" me. I didn't want to be snatched, so I stayed far away. This mantra of "snatching" was repeated throughout my young life, and into my teenage years. So, even to this day, I will park very far from the building to avoid parking next to a cargo van.
When the Geek found all of this out, he suggested there be a specific nomenclature for cargo vans, a code system, if you will. His "helpful" suggestions:
- All cargo vans should be labeled: hazardous, snatchy, or safe.
- Hazardous cargo vans should say the nature of the hazard: i.e. "This van contains a bunch of pot smoking hippies, not the sort you would like to associate with, but certainly not going to snatch you."
- Safe cargo vans should clearly state thus: "This is a simple plumber's van. He will do you know harm, and will in fact, cheerfully remove the clog from your drain."
- Snatchy vans: "This van contains a creeper, he will snatch you." "Warning! Occupants of this van will snatch pretty girls."
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Meditations on Lent: Or, why Lent reminds me of my need for Jesus
I just realized today that I have not been very diligent about my blogging. For shame, for shame. I know. It is the season of Lament, so I feel justly chastised.
The season of Lament, really, is the season of Lent. It is this that I have some thoughts about this evening. Lent is not something practiced very often among Evangelical Protestants. It was not until college that I really learned much about it. I went to a rather Emergent Churchy church in Denver called City Pres. But with much better theology than the Emergent Church. I digress.
The first year I went to City Pres, the pastor, during Lent, talked about the importance of the season in bringing us closer to God. He reminded us that Lent is a season not biblically-mandated, but helpful in drawing us closer to Jesus' own 40-day fast. It is for this reason that Lent is the 40 days leading up to Easter. In the spirit of the fast, the Christian chooses prayerfully to give up something, that the time may be used to draw closer to God. My pastor mentioned, however, that one need not give up something to participate. One must only conscientiously draw nearer to God through adding an element to one's spiritual life. This was a fascinating concept.
My first practice of Lent, I realized through prayer that I did need to give something up. Chocolate. I have, and always will have, a voracious sweet tooth. Often in that very stressful year, I would run to chocolate to satisfy my need for a respite from life, instead of running to God. Giving it up was challenging, but I remember vividly the experience.
This year, I prayed, and wanted to give up Facebook, because that would be easiest. God, however, had other plans. I know that I am to get up earlier in the morning and spend time in prayer and study before the day begins. As of today, one week into Lent, I have yet to do this. It haunts me every morning. Because, in the way that only God can effect, I wake up at exactly 6am, without my alarm. I then turn over and go back to sleep. I am to add this simple thing into my life, but I fight the valiant fight against the pillow, and spend the rest of my day in soulful lament that I have failed God in His One Simple Request.
God has the wonderful, terrible right of giving His people One Simple Request to follow. Adam and Eve were told not to eat of the fruit. Lot's wife was told not to look at the burning cities. The Israelites were told to have no other gods. I was told to get up in the morning. We all failed, and continue to fail.
It takes me longer to learn things than it ought. It was my senior year of college, my final semester, that I finally figured out how to live well with others and still get my homework done (something most of my peers figured out midway through sophomore year). Perhaps Lent this year is meant to be a process. Perhaps in my failings, I am learning that I cannot live perfectly; most importantly, that I need a Savior. Perhaps I will, in Holy Week, finally wake up every morning. Until then, I fight the battle with myself, and soldier on.
What is the One Simple Request God has on your life? And what can we learn together in this season, where drawing near to God requires sacrificing of our selves?
The season of Lament, really, is the season of Lent. It is this that I have some thoughts about this evening. Lent is not something practiced very often among Evangelical Protestants. It was not until college that I really learned much about it. I went to a rather Emergent Churchy church in Denver called City Pres. But with much better theology than the Emergent Church. I digress.
The first year I went to City Pres, the pastor, during Lent, talked about the importance of the season in bringing us closer to God. He reminded us that Lent is a season not biblically-mandated, but helpful in drawing us closer to Jesus' own 40-day fast. It is for this reason that Lent is the 40 days leading up to Easter. In the spirit of the fast, the Christian chooses prayerfully to give up something, that the time may be used to draw closer to God. My pastor mentioned, however, that one need not give up something to participate. One must only conscientiously draw nearer to God through adding an element to one's spiritual life. This was a fascinating concept.
My first practice of Lent, I realized through prayer that I did need to give something up. Chocolate. I have, and always will have, a voracious sweet tooth. Often in that very stressful year, I would run to chocolate to satisfy my need for a respite from life, instead of running to God. Giving it up was challenging, but I remember vividly the experience.
This year, I prayed, and wanted to give up Facebook, because that would be easiest. God, however, had other plans. I know that I am to get up earlier in the morning and spend time in prayer and study before the day begins. As of today, one week into Lent, I have yet to do this. It haunts me every morning. Because, in the way that only God can effect, I wake up at exactly 6am, without my alarm. I then turn over and go back to sleep. I am to add this simple thing into my life, but I fight the valiant fight against the pillow, and spend the rest of my day in soulful lament that I have failed God in His One Simple Request.
God has the wonderful, terrible right of giving His people One Simple Request to follow. Adam and Eve were told not to eat of the fruit. Lot's wife was told not to look at the burning cities. The Israelites were told to have no other gods. I was told to get up in the morning. We all failed, and continue to fail.
It takes me longer to learn things than it ought. It was my senior year of college, my final semester, that I finally figured out how to live well with others and still get my homework done (something most of my peers figured out midway through sophomore year). Perhaps Lent this year is meant to be a process. Perhaps in my failings, I am learning that I cannot live perfectly; most importantly, that I need a Savior. Perhaps I will, in Holy Week, finally wake up every morning. Until then, I fight the battle with myself, and soldier on.
What is the One Simple Request God has on your life? And what can we learn together in this season, where drawing near to God requires sacrificing of our selves?
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