The Depths

My mania for a dog has reached new lows. Yesterday afternoon I took my parents' dog Chester to Ridley Creek State Park.

I must admit, he made a much better walking companion than I had anticipated. I attribute this mostly to the fact that he's a fatty fat and he probably couldn't muster the energy to tug on the leash after the first two inclines we climbed. Whatever the case, though, he walked mostly right at my side the whole time and only occasionally stopped to smell the various scents that the forest has to offer.

I must also note that this dog has the character of a paper bag full of wet socks. One might expect a canine companion to interact with you when you stop for a water break, but Chester basically never even sat down and just kept poking around in the weeds. Even on the handful of moments when I tried to give him an encouraging pat on the head he seemed disinterested at best.

I guess the moral of the story is that beggars can't be choosers. He walked well the whole time and didn't drop dead in the middle of nowhere, so I guess that makes it a good day. But I still want my own dog.

No Shrek The Third

I was tasked with getting American Idol results while I was at work and Melissa was at kinship last night. This, unfortunately, ruined a perfectly good episode of Ghost Hunters for me as I was unable to bear actually watching the Idol results show and instead had to keep flipping back and forth to see if they were going to eliminate somebody or what. They finally revealed the ousted contestant with 3 minutes left in the program. An entire hour of filler and then the big culmination of the show, the ousted pseudo-singer performing the last song that America deemed not good enough, had to be played with credits rolling over the bottom of the screen as they'd run out of time. Good planning, FOX.

Oh, yes, the weakest link in the competition of three ended up being Melinda Doolittle, whom I earlier this month pointed out to bear a striking resemblance to a certain big, green cartoon movie star. This morning I was checking out FOXnews.com, that bastion of almost news, and I read this confounding statement regarding same Shrek-esque performer:

Her career is arguably the one most eagerly anticipated of all of this season's contestants' and the endless hours spent on clothes, makeup and hair throughout the season have clearly had a major impact on the girl. In other words: Along the way she somehow got hot.
























Wow. Allow me to quote the venerable cave man from the Geico adds, "Uh, I have a response...... What?!"

I mean, saying, "Her image is improved," might be on the outermost boundaries of acceptable. But hot? Seriously? If that's the case, I need to do some serious reevaluation of my rating criteria.

what the heck???

Driving into work. Listening to the radio. Feeling a little urbanesque. 102.1 has a commercial. 96.5 has a commercial. 104.5 has.... R.E.M.??? What? "The One I Love" is not part of the rotation of Rumba 104.5 Orgullo Latino. Sigh. It appears that the curse of 104.5 continues to haunt me. Another station I loved at 104.5 that gets the boot. Now, it's Radio 104.5 - that's lame. And Rumba has moved to 1480AM - super, super lame. They couln't even keep it on the FM dial.

Eureka!

I finally found a house that we could afford! Sweet.

You Don't Say....

On Tuesday morning we were milling around the kitchen, getting breakfast and whatnot, when my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, so I let it kick over to voicemail. Upon listening to same voicemail, it turns out the message was from a fellow at the National Bone Marrow Donor registry. I think it was back in 2001, they had a donor drive at the fire house in Collingdale and I registered then. Now here it is some 6 years later and out of the blue I get a call saying that I may be a match for a 37 year old man with leukemia. Hmm. Imagine that. I only vaguely remember actually registering, and I don't suppose I thought about all of the little details back when I did. Yet here I am, and regardless of previous thought (or lack thereof) I'd put into it, how could I not follow this possibility through? And so next Monday I'll have some blood work done that will help to determine whether or not I'm most suited to be a donor for this gentleman. Details to follow, I'm sure.

Ethnicity

For dinner on Tuesday evening, Melissa took a stab at making some Puerto Rican rice and beans to go with our tilapia filets. I simply had to take a picture of this monumental event.

O'er Amber Waves of Trash

They've blocked my usual riding path at the Tinicum Wildlife Refuge with construction of another crappy boardwalk for walkers. So I tried taking an alternate route, which usually involves having to walk across a little marshy section and getting my feet all wet and stinky. As I approached the end of the trail, however, I saw a clearing and what I thought was a place to cross the water! Wonder of wonders, had they done something intelligent and cleared a bridge? As the horizon fully came into view, however, I realized that it was not in fact a bridge. It was, instead, a rainwater swelled log jam of various reeds, branches and general garbage. Oh the splendor. I tried to snap a picture, but I'm not sure it does the spectacle justice. Here it is, nonetheless:

A Quiet Afternoon At Home

So I had my once monthly church marathon morning today - 8am until 1pm.

After church, went out to Ridley Creek State Park for lunch and catching up with some old friends.

Melissa is presently at her niece Rosie's wedding shower, so I planned on a nice quiet afternoon at home.

What did I forget to factor in?

That there's no such thing as a quiet Sunday afternoon here once the weather gets warm.

You see, last summer our lovely downstairs neighbor has a stereo set up on the patio in the back yard which he would blare bad 80's rock music through for the better part of every Sunday afternoon.

This year the stereo hadn't reappeared, so we figured maybe it was broken or something.

But last Sunday, the crappy music returned.

Still no stereo outside, though.

So where is the music coming from?

Well, it turns out that the stereo is now housed in the basement which is accessed through doors in the floor of the back porch of this house.

So in order to make the yard echo of hair bands gone by, he just opens the basement doors and turns the volume up.

Why is this awesome?

Because in addition to being able to hear the music outside, the frame of this old house makes the inside echo with distorted bass.

That's right, I can hear & feel the badness.

Of course, the stereo is just icing on the noise cake.

You see, our house also happens to be square in the center of lawn mowing land.

I understand that lots of people in the suburbs cut their lawns.

Heck, they probably have to do it on a somewhat regular basis in order to avoid fines and such.

But here, it seems like there is someone mowing their lawn just about every day of the week.

Loudly.

The neighbor next door cuts his at least twice a week.

So anyways, yeah, no quiet Sunday afternoon for Timmy.

Not unless I can find some earplugs around here.

Maybe I'll just turn the TV up and make do.

Word.

Separated At Birth?

I don't care who you are or where you're from... this girl looks like Shrek, and that's all there is to it.

boys and girls

Just wanted to share this picture. I think it's great: Timmy and I playing with Cora and Liam during our most recent trip to Ohio. No offense to the most adorable Cora, but the best part of the picture are the boys.



Look at Timmy impart his wisdom of superheroes to his intent and eager student. Way too cute.

Poker

I played poker at the Youngs' house last night. There were six people in the game, two of which busted out and then bought back in. If memory serves, I knocked at least 5 - if not 6 - of those players out of the game. And yet I came in third place and didn't win a bloody thing. This is what we call "dissatisfying" boys and girls.

10 years ago today....

Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind, but now I see.

'Twas Grace that taught my heart to fear,
And Grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.

one of those weeks...

Saturday night. 9:40pm. And I got a call from Mark. Shawna was wondering if I got the paper towels for the bathroom. I forgot. Sigh. Just one of those little things that make me feel icky. I just had a rough week in general. I forgot to buy the towels. I forgot to send out the volunteer schedule. I was an hour late to the management team meeting because I had the time wrong. These things make me feel blah. And I know it's okay. Mark has so much grace. The entire church has so much grace. But its the perfectionist in me that doesn't have much grace. It's the woman with very high expectations that doesn't have much grace. And I just hate letting people down (mostly myself). So, I just need to shake it off. Not let it get the best of me.

It's A Dog's Life

Ever since Dave and Kristine got their new puppy Moby my persistence in trying to get Melissa to okay a canine companion for us has increased ten fold. She knew it would happen the minute she met Moby, of course, but I don't know that she was really prepared for the task of putting up with me on this one.

In an effort to get some support on my side, I humbly present some pictures of the awesomeness I've come across over the past week:



This is Jazzy. She's a mix between a Belgian Shepherd and an Elkhound. This is, of course, intriguing because it would produce an animal remarkably close to Buffy the eternal. In fact, this is pretty much what Buffy looked like at that age. Believe it or not. Jazzy would require a name change.






This is Kahlua. She is estimated to be a mix between a Kai Dog and an Elkhound, though the person who wrote her listing said that was a total shot in the dark guess. Regardless, I think this is a fierce looking dog. The wild look in her eyes brings me to mind of the legendary Duchess. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. I could be okay with the name Kahlua.









Now we start bringing out the big guns. This is Cocoa. She is a mix between a Labrador and a Doberman. And, yes, she resembles a chocolate Porkchop the Dog. This is obviously quite a trump card, but I also noted to Melissa, "Look, she's German and Canadian just like Erika. You love Erika, so you should love Cocoa too." It's true, this is probably either underhanded or ridiculous - or both. But such is my mania. I'm not entirely sold on the name Cocoa, but I'm sure we could come up with a suitable substitute that sounded similar.






And, finally, the coup de grace... Helena. Helena is a mix of Siberian Husky and Beagle and may be one of the most beautiful little dogs I've ever seen. She also resembles PCTD, though perhaps not quite as much as Cocoa. Those famous Husky blue eyes are what pushes her over the top, I think. She would probably need a name change. Helena is a cool name, but not really for a dog. She's only a couple months old, though, so I think she'd adapt to it pretty easily.


Feel free to vote for your favorite, even though it probably won't go very far towards changing Melissa's mind.

Two for Two

Today Timmy and I went on a Monday Movie Date; this is our second time going on a Monday Movie Date. A few weeks ago, we decided to use our $6.00 movie coupons for Regal Cinemas from our Entertainment Book. We went and saw Amazing Grace. While we were there, we learned that on Mondays they have select candies for $1 if you have a Crown Card. So, normally two tickets, two candies, and one large bottle of water would total $28.50 ($24 if you go to a matinee). With our coupon and the free crown club card, our total was $18. Sweet. And then for the first time in a while, we saw a movie that didn't disappoint us.

Today, we went out again to the Regal Edgemont. Timmy said I was a more expensive date since my Sour Patch Kids weren't on the $1 list and we paid a full $2.50. Sorry, honey. We saw Reign Over Me and again we were not disappointed by the movie. I actually really enjoyed it. I really enjoyed Amazing Grace but it probably isn't a movie I would see again. However, I could see Reign Over Me again. I would recommend it, but that probably doesn't mean much to most of you - I did just borrow Delta Force from my mom.

love those google guys

I do. I think they're so clever. I love my gmail account, and they have given me another reason to love them even more. Presenting Gmail paper!! Just by clicking a button, I can request Gmail to send me a hardcopy of my email. There is no limit to how many I request and there is no cost because they print ads on the back of the paper. They'll even print photo attachments, but I don't really care about that.

Now, why am I so excited about this? Because for almost two years now, I have been telling myself, "I need to get myself organized someday and print out all those early emails between me and Timmy." Remember that our relationship started one night when I couldn't fall asleep, so I sent this seeming nice guy from small group a really long, really random email and then he replied with an equally long and equally random email. The rest is history, but many of those early memories are saved in my mrolon gmail account. I have wanted to print them out, bind them, and save them beside my years of journals. Then our great-grandbabies can read about their how great-grandparents started to get to know each and fell in love. This is going to be so exciting if it actually works as well as they say. But how couldn't it - I mean, it is google!!

Now, I just need to figure out how to get all my IM conversations printed - gotta love mac which automatically saves IM conversations!! Maybe I'll just email them to myself and have Gmail send them to me too :)

Death Match in the Wildlife Refuge

I went for a bike ride yesterday down at Tinicum Wildlife Refuge. Halfway through my ride I stopped and sat on a bench for a while to read and contemplate life and such. About ten feet in front of me, protruding from the water, was a birdhouse place by the refuge. There were two little blue birds engaged in mortal kombat for this house. It was inexplicably captivating. They would hit each other in mid air. At one point, the one knocked the other into the water and tried to push it under by landing on it and fluttering it's wings. In the end, one of the combatants flew away and the other stood victorious upon the roof of his/her home. Here's to the champion.

southwest

So many of you know about our recent trip to Columbus and many of you heard about our annoying trip out there. Our flight last Friday, the 16th was cancelled because of the ice. We arranged to go out the next day. Our flight was scheduled to leave at 8:20pm(boarding at 7:50). We didn't get on the plane until 9:30. We then sat in the plane fore 1.5 hours as we waited to go through the de-icing process. We arrived around midnight. It took us 6 hours to take a 52 minute flight.

This morning, Timmy and I each received a letter from Southwest. They were apologizing for the inconvenience of our missed flight and each letter contained a voucher for $150 for future traveling with Southwest. Sweet. Even sweeter - $300 is more than we paid for our tickets out to Columbus.

2057

I just read on a family blog that my aunt and uncle are celebrating their 51st wedding anniversary. All I can say is wow.

mi querido

My Timmy went back to work on Saturday after a two month healing period. Tonight is his first night shift :( I can't even remember the last time I slept without him. Now, I'm sitting at the computer with the tv on, even though I am exhausted. I have such a hard time getting myself to bed without him.

Spoooooky!

I was just checking out our bank account online, and noticed this strange alignment of automotive universes:

On Thursday, March 22nd I was driving Melissa's car and it was in need of refueling. So I stopped at the Wawa on Chester Pike in Folcroft and put $26.73 worth of regular unleaded fuel into the tank.

On Friday, March 23rd Melissa was driving my car and it was in need of refueling. So she stopped at the Sunoco on Baltimore Pike in Media and put $26.73 worth of regular unleaded fuel into the tank.

Ooooooooooh!!!!!

Two different cars made by different manufacturers and at different levels of needing fuel both take the exact same amount of petrol! C'mon, admit it, you're kind of impressed or something. Yeah?

Zoo Pics

Finally getting around to posting a few of the pics we took at the zoo a week ago. A completely random assortment of animals, really. And conspicuous by their absence are the most glorious animals in all of the Philadelphia Zoo - the giant river otters. They were just too fast to snap a decent picture of. But if you have the means to go observe them, I highly recommend it. I could sit there and watch those critters all day long, to tell you the truth. But I digress. Onto the pictures....








Freaking peacocks. They're overrunning the place.


















Scottish highland cattle. (They look like extras from Star Wars.)
















Some kind of monkeys. About the size of my fist. Fascinating.














Meerkat, on watch duty.
















Obligatory flamingo photo.












Lioness at the new "Big Cat Falls". (The reflection of Missy's leg in the glass kind of ruins the illusion of closeness.)













And lastly, an elephant. The elephants are all leaving the zoo this year. I'm not entirely sure why, but they are.












fin.

Woo Hoo

Timmy and I just got back from Columbus. We had a wonderful time with the Crawfords. We are now both sitting at our respective computers catching up on three days of missed computer time. Three days rest from Snood must have been a good thing because I just smashed my top score on the puzzle level by 35,000 points. I got to level 20 ziggurat; that's like three levels that I have never experienced before. It was great! But now, it may become frustrating to play again if I don't advance as far. But for now, I will enjoy my moment.

i forgot...

So last night Timmy and I went to the Flyers game. Unfortunately, we got stuck walking back in the rain after the game and our car was at the Lincoln Financial Field's lot. When we finally got into the car, we sat there for a few minutes to delay our entering the mass exodus of cars. As we were waiting, I saw something very disturbing. There was a man; our guess is that he was about 20 feet in front of us - not far at all and nothing obstructing our line of vision. I saw him unlock his car, but before he went in, he undid his pants and starting urinating on the parking lot. Eww. It was so gross. I turned to Timmy, "Ew. He's peeing." It was disturbing and even more disturbing is that he really must have had to go because it lasted a long time.

I don't know. Would he have done this if it weren't late at night and it wasn't raining? Why couldn't he have gone to the men's room at the center? Not like he was avoiding the rush. Or why couldn't he have used one of the port-a-johns out in the parking area? And who was he talking to? Is it better if it were a man or woman? I don't know.

Reminds me of this time that Ashlie and I were driving back from a doctor's appointment. There was this heavier woman along the side of the road that bent over and exposed her backside. And I'm not talking just crack, I mean the whole thing.

my dream

Was anyone as upset as I was when they found out that Claire and Peter are related? I had a Heroes dream last night. I was both a participant and an observer. Lots of hiding, chasing, secrets, you know. At the end, Claire and Peter were hiding in some underground safe house. They were sitting on the floor, legs crossed, looking at each other. They were exhausted, having gone through some adventure I can't remember. And in a sweet moment, they looked into each others eyes and gently kissed. Que emocion...until I woke up and remembered that Peter is Claire's uncle - grrr.

Reminds me of a couple years back when the Crawfords hosted a Star Wars night - the original three. I had never seen them. Shortly into the first movie, Dave made a comment about "yeah, she's your sister." A few people laughed and someone (maybe Erika) told him that I had never seen the movie. Oops. Everyone was then told not to spoil anymore of the plot. Although it was disappointing to receive that plot twist before the movie had really started, I'm also glad that I did. I totally would have been rooting for Luke and Leia to fall in love only to be devastated that they were brother and sister.

a full year

Que emocion. Today is our first anniversary. We have kept the day very laid back: slept in, lounged around, watched a movie. We went to Stephen's on State for dinner, courtesy of Mom and Dad Kaiser and an offer Timmy found online that allowed us to buy a $25 gift certificate for $10. And can I say: mmm, mmm, mmm. I had the lobster and crab ravioil with roasted tomato and spinach ragout, wild mushroom cream sauce, and shaved parmigiano reggiano. Oh my goodness. I actually cleaned my plate, which is impressive considering I don't really eat vegetables and I hate mushrooms. Timmy had jumbo lump crab cakes with shrimp and corn croquettes, asparagus salad, and lobster cream sauce. He also spoke very highly of it, but not as highly as I spoke of my dish. Then again, I am very dramatic when I enjoy a good dish. For dessert, I had a white chocolate raspberry cheesecake - so good. Timmy had chocolate lava - warm fudge cake with chocolate ice cream - you can imagine. Now, we are back to lounging around, resting for tomorrow - we're going to the zoo :)

my mama

I spoke to my mama yesterday. After the hi-how are yous, she said, "so, you have news for me?" I guess she was just waiting a year before she started the baby questions.

Attack Of The Giant Crabs

I was standing at the seafood counter in Acme last night, purchasing some scallops for our dinner, when my eye was drawn to the crab legs in the glass case. We've all seen snow crab legs (which are pretty gianormous compared to regular Maryland crab legs) and perhaps even the somewhat frightening dungeness crab legs, but on this particular night the Acme was offering giant crab legs.
I'll have to admit, before that point I didn't even know that there was such a creature. These legs must've been at least 4 feet long each. After some research, I believe they may have been from a Japanese spider crab. These crabs can apparently weigh up to 44 pounds and have a leg span of 13 feet. That's horrifying.

At any rate, they were like $20 a pound at Acme, which I'm assuming would probably be 2 legs, so I decided to stick with my scallops. But, you know, just in case any of you independently wealthy crab lovers are looking for a new experience, now you know where to go.

You Make The Call

Yes, I officially have a problem with looking at the SPCA website. But put that all aside and tell me this: is this or is this not one of the most formidable looking felines you've seen?

I say yes.... nay, I say a resounding YES!

If I'm going to have a cat, I want to live in constant wonder as to whether or not that cat secretly plans to take over the world while I'm at work.

gracie

Today Gracie A. made me smile. She makes me smile a lot but today was especially cute. For those of you who don't know Grace, she is the 2 year old daughter of friends from church. I call her my office buddy because after church on Sundays, she hangs out with me in my office while I am preparing my tithe deposit. We have developed another little ritual. The first Sunday of the month is our communion Sunday at church. For the last three communions, Gracie and I drink all the leftover little cups of grape juice, eat some of the leftover Matzos crackers, and clean up the elements when we are done. It's pretty funny: we sit up on the stage or rather I sit and she stands and we pop shot after shot of juice and then stack up the little cups. Cute.

Today, Timmy led worship, so ministry time went a little longer than usual - no complaints on my part :) I sat in the back as a few people lingered in the sanctuary while others got prayer. Gracie walked over to me and said "apple juice" pointing toward the stage. I smiled and told her that we had to wait until everyone was done. She said apple juice again and I assured her that when everyone was done, when he stopped and I pointed to Timmy, we would do it. She pointed to Timmy and I said something I couldn't quite understand, but I could tell she was just confirming what I had just told her. She got quiet and sat next to me.

She sat there for a 2 or 3 songs, looking at the bulletin, asking me the names of various people, pointing out her mom and her sister for me. As soon as Timmy stopped strumming and I mean as soon as he stopped, she looked at me and said "all done." I had to laugh, "okay, let's go." We drank our juice, ate some crackers, stacked our cups, and with no prompting she grabbed the basket of crackers and proceeded to leave the sanctuary (the cleaning up process). She was a little faster than I was since I had to grab the other supplies. When I got downstairs, she was waiting outside the kitchen, looking back for me. She is too cute and so smart. What a great age! Of course, I'm sure she has her moments :) For now, I will enjoy her and the other children around me. They will satisfy any baby itch I may develop.

Happy Birthday!

I want to send out two very special birthday shout-outs! Today Mark-Paul Gosselaar turns 33 years old. During my elementary and middle school years, I developed a little obsession on the boy who played Zack Morris. I would later in my life call him "my great obsession."

When I was sixteen, I met another boy. This time he was a real boy, as opposed to a celebrity boy. For the summers of 96 and 97, Mike Costello was the lifeguard at my apartment complex pool. I affectionately still refer to him as "my lifeguard" and consider him to be "the greatest crush of my life." I'm sure you can imagine my reaction when I learned that Mike's birthday was March 1, the same as Mark-Paul's. It's kismet! Destiny! Fate! It was meant to be!

When it became clear that, in fact, Mike and I were not meant to be, I was convinced that the man who was meant to be would share the same birthday as the two men who consumed my adolescent and teenage years. Again, I was wrong. Timmy's birthday is August 23. However, when I looked at March 1, I smile when I think of how similar it looks to March 11. Less than two weeks away - can you believe it!

So, Happy 33rd birthday, Mark-Paul, and Happy 29th birthday, Mike. I'm glad the both of you were part of my life but am even more glad that I didn't marry either of you :)

Thumbs Up!

Spending some more quality time on the SPCA's website Sunday afternoon, I discovered something of incredible goodness: a cat breed called Hemingway Polydactyl. (AKA: The extra toes cat.) That's right, there is a breed of cat that has thumbs. And it's not just some sort of genetic mishap when the cat's mom is his dad and his dad is his grandpa!

Friends, it is with great pleasure that I present to you the gloriousness that is... THE HEMINGWAY POLYDACTYL!!!!

For Real, For Real

So I just wasted 15 minutes of my life finding out what my real age is. And the verdict is......

Chronological Age: 29.5 years old
Real Age: 24 years old

Woohoo. I'm ahead of the curve, and still have a technical excuse for being immature. Score.

SPCA

One of the things I spend my free time on is looking longingly at the web site of the SPCA. I say longingly because I know that I won't allow myself to get a dog until I have a yard for that dog to run around in. With the current price range of homes with yards in this county, I know that's probably not going to happen for a good while. But I digress.

One of the things I find to be quite telling about the area we live in is that there are currently 14 dogs listed on the Delco SPCA website that are up for adoption. 9 out of those 14 dogs are either pit bulls or pit bull mixes. Draw your own conclusions on that one.

The thing that really ticks me off, though, is when they have dogs like this one up for adoption:




















This old boy is named Killian, and he is 10 years old. He is at the SPCA because his family was moving and they couldn't take him along. So this faithful friend who's been with them since 1997 was dropped off at the SPCA.

Now, I'm not being completely cynical here. I acknowledge that there was perhaps a tear or two shed over the matter. But to me, that's not enough. How could you drop a dog off at the SPCA and just move away? You have to know that he's probably not going to be adopted. People are barely willing to adopt young animals from the SPCA, let alone a dog that probably only has 5 or 6 years left to live at the most. At least for people like me, I would become way too emotionally attached to the dog for him to be with me for such a short time. We only had Porkchop for like 3 or 4 years and I still have dreams that she's still alive. Seriously.

It makes me think back to the stories of people in Louisiana who were rescued from the roofs of their homes after Hurricane Katrina. They were told that they had to leave their pets behind, so they left them stranded there - probably to die from either starvation or heat stroke. I told my dad, and he agreed, that I wouldn't have left my dog. I would have told them that either they take us both or they leave us both. I'm sure that a few people probably said that and that the rescuers really didn't have an option, but I'm serious. I wouldn't have left my friend to die. That probably sounds irrational to a non-dog person, but it's really the truth.

Anyway, that's probably enough rambling about dogs for one day. If you're the sort of person who could give a good home to a nice looking, older dog, go to the SPCA and adopt Killian. I'm sure he'd appreciate it.

Disappointing

When I was a lad, I got this plane that was attached to it's "remote control" by a 10 foot length of wire. Holding the switch down caused the propeller to spin, then the idea was to swing the plane around by the wire to simulate flight. It was cheap and it was disappointing. Remote controlled aircraft of any worth were probably at least a few hundred bucks.

Fast forward several years - I saw the add for this radio controlled helicopter on TV this morning. It was this little miniature thing that could be flown around the house and it looked pretty darn cool. For a few moments, I must admit, I thought about getting one to play with. Reading reviews, however, it turns out that the battery takes 20 minutes to charge and only lasts for 5 to 7 minutes of flight time. That's just not sufficient for a $39.99, to tell you the truth.

I guess I'll have to wait for technology to progress a little further.

Yummo

Currently being consumed by Tim to such an extent that once he runs out, he'll probably never want to see another box of them again:






















Thanks to Acme Markets for having said cereal on sale - 2 boxes for $4. These sales will be the death of me.

A Break

We just spent a few days away in scenic Lancaster. Not Lancaster County, though - Lancaster city (which was a lot more ghetto looking than I would've guessed, actually). But all the same, the hotel we stayed at was probably the coolest hotel I've ever been to. Here's a few pictures of the room:







As we entered, there was a nice little seating area.














There was a nice jacuzzi in the corner of the room.
















Walk in shower, complete with subway tiles, granite countertops and slate floor.
















Flat screen television and desk.













And, best of all, a pillow top king sized bed, right in the middle of it all. It was like a fluffy cloud of relaxing goodness.







Oh, and we also ate at this great mediterranian restaurant on Monday night. If you're ever in the neighborhood, I recommend checking that one out as well.

some practical advice

Over the course of my four years at Eastern, I had the pleasure of living with six wonderful ladies. One of those lovely ladies is Lisa, who I lived with our junior year and the summer between our junior and senior year. I invite you to read her story below:


"Matt and I had the pleasure of talking with some friends over dinner the other night. The conversation flowed as many conversations tend to - bouncing and branching from subject to subject. At one point the conversation turned towards the fateful idea of commuting from downtown Baltimore back to the suburbia of Owings Mills. This would not be such a fateful subject if the commute was not involving traveling on the subway at a late hour of the night.

This turn of the conversation led to my revelation of a story I have not spoken of for some time. The mere thought of my having verbalized it brings a chill to the back of my neck. A story so shadowed, so dark, that I beg for little children to be removed from the room prior your reading this.

So it is with great pride and joy that I introduce my story to the world of MySpace. A story about a girl. A good girl. A good girl who wearily made her way home after a rigorous day of schooling in downtown Baltimore. A story about a man. A bad man. We really don't know anything more about him...just that he's bad. A story about how a good girl created a weapon for a successful victory over the bad man. So, without delay, and in the interest of women's safety everywhere, I present to you...The Story of "The Ultimate Weapon."

It was a Monday evening. Dark. I was exhausted after a 12-hour day of classes. I stumbled in a tired stupor onto the train at Lexington Market, preparing myself for the 25-minute ride back to Owings Mills, where my car awaited me and I could complete my journey towards home. If only I had been more aware of my surroundings.

There are not many people using the train on a Monday evening at 10pm. But there was one on my train. A bad one. A bad one who had positioned himself even closer to me, despite the fact that nearly all seating in our car was up for the taking.

I cannot describe in words the manner in which he was positioning himself and looking at me, nor the manner in which I felt, but allow me to delve into some word association, using the first few words that come to mind when recalling this scene: vomit, panic, gross, revolting, stomach-churning, castration, George Bush in a pink tu-tu. (I'm not sure where that last one came from)

I assessed my situation. Only a few other people in the car...on the other end of the car. Unfortunately, they began to trickle out at other stops. Bad Man did not. It became apparent to me that he was staying with me unto the bitter end...the last stop of Owings Mills. I had no mace, no pepper spray. I do not recall having had a cell phone at this time. I had keys, but I never feel they are of any value in these kinds of situations.

Beginning to feel helpless, panicked and scared, I realized that I needed to somehow reverse my situation. I needed to make Bad Man so repulsed by my very sight so that he would not only want to distance himself, but never look my direction again. I had very little time as the last stop approached.

It was at this crucial moment that creation of The Ultimate Weapon began. I needed something so universally revolting...so disgusting that it transcended cultures and generations as a vile practice.

It was at this point that I began picking my nose. Not just ANY kind of picking, mind you, but as someone who was involved in a joyous celebration of their nose and its' contents. I picked. I dug. I looked at it. I inspected it. And yes, my friends, I ate it. And not only did I eat it, but I ate it with a smile on my face, as if it were the best tasting substance on the earth.

Let us just say that our friend was indeed disgusted by my actions. He became visibly uncomfortable, removing himself from close proximity to me. He stood by the door and was the first one out. He did not look my way again. Who could blame him?

So, my fellow females, when you are stuck in a compromising and potentially dangerous situation with a shady character, wip out The Ultimate Weapon! It's guaranteed to succeed! Your safety is worth it!

Oh, just when you thought TUW could not get any more fail-proof: our above-mentioned friends, upon hearing my story of survival, quickly suggested that "flicking" might be the next, necessary step to make The Ultimate Weapon even more effective. I must admit I have not had the opportunity to test this.

Let's hope I never do."

----

She cracks me up.

???

Timmy, honey, if something happens to you, can I ...?

Hockey Addendum:

I just talked to Nim, and the guy he tackled (who may or may not have been the guy who actually hit me, we're not positive) apparently got a hair-line fracture in his jaw and had a loose tooth that they ended up pulling. The best part? His mommy called the rink to complain about, "what kind of butcher league are you running?" The owner told her, "Is your son 18? Does he make his own decisions? Did he sign the waiver? Well, he's playing in a men's league, that's just what happens sometimes." Nice.

In other news, Nim also confirmed that the guy who hit me did, in fact, leave his feet when he crashed into me. One of the owners told him that it should have been a charging/boarding major at least, but since it happened away from the puck, the ref probably just wasn't paying attention. Good to know. Or something.

adventures in hockey

The last three Thursdays Timmy has reported on how his roller hockey game went the night before. Today, I will do the reporting since he is unable to type. Below is his account of the first part of the night, as dictated to me:

"We were playing a game against a bunch of 20 year old morons who thought their crap didn't stink and were trying to show off all night. The third period had just begun and something happened that I don't really remember but it ticked me off. So, I did the only reasonable thing and chased the guy down. I skated into him. He jumped in to me which made my arm hurt and I fell down onto my knees. I tried to get back up but fell down on my butt instead. I heard the 20 year olds' trailer trash girlfriends were laughing from the stands. So, I mustered my last bit of energy and.... let them know I was okay. After that I went back over to the bench and threw my stick and gloves into the corner and proceeded to take the next five minute to get my jersey off. Sometime in there, apparently, Nim took it upon himself to repay the act of kindness from the guy who hit me. I hear there was something about tackling and punching in the head. Whatever it was, it got him kicked out of the game. But I'm okay with it. It is hockey after all. I sat on the bench for about 10 more minutes and my teammates kept asking me 'are you okay.' I kept saying, 'no, I don't think so.' Finally George took my jersey and fashioned it into a sling and I skated off of the rink into the locker room. A coworker, Doug, who had come to watch the game, came in and said, 'you'll probably need at least an x-ray.' I was going to try to drive home myself since my right arm is fine but it kinda started to hurt more so I decided that might be bad. Luckily my boy Eric's wife was there so he was able to drive my car and me home while she followed behind. When I got home, Missy took over driving and took me to Crozer"

Enter me. When I got home from kinship at 11pm, I called Timmy to see where he was. He asked if I wanted to go for a ride to Crozer becauser he thought he might have dislocated his shoulder. Joy. That news didn't entirely surprise me since he had told me before that he might try to make the "no checking" league more fun. I just didn't expect him to get seriously hurt. We drove over to Crozer. I'm not entirely sure why we went to Crozer instead of Taylor, but I just followed orders. Timmy called into the emergency room ahead of time and spoke to the nurse on duty to reserve a room before we got there. We walked right in, bypassed the triage, and went straight into one of the trauma rooms that was waiting for him. Nice to know the nurses, doctors, and medics in the emergency room.

After the nurses did their thing, the doctor came in, looked at his shoulder, and grimaced. Not a good sign. He sent for x-rays which showed that Timmy had a broken collar bone. The doctor was concerned about his shoulder blade, so he ordered a CATscan. Those results confirmed that he also had a fracture in his shoulder plade. Dito, my Timmy is broken. After a few hours, they sent Timmy home with a shoulder immobilizer and pumped up with percocet. We have an appointment at 3:15 with the orthopedic doctor to determine the next course of action: whether he just needs to not use his shoulder for a while or if he needs to get surgery. Either way, he's looking at about 6-8 weeks of recovery.

In related news, a few of Timmy's fellow medics were at the ER working and they kept checking in on him. They were all very sweet to show so much concern for him. Porter, especially, was sweet. However, he was mostly upset that he was scheduled to be at the game, but he had to work instead. Porter told us that the Crozer hockey team is in full agreement that they won't make it through the first period next time they meet this team in the rink. They have a whole plan for how to rough them up. I thought there might be a hint of seriousness to them because Nim already got kicked out of last night's game for defending my boy. When I asked Timmy if they would actually do something, he nodded and said yes. Guess we will only see. I think it's sweet that they have his back. I just don't want anyone to get hurt or arrested. Even though, apparently, the medics called their police friends and asked them to come too - uh oh.

In related, silly Melissa news, I got all warm and fuzzy when the registration nurse asked me how I was related to him. When I said I was his wife, she proceeded to ask me all the required questions to get him checked in and I got to sign all his papers. Que emocion - I'm authorized to act in this way - I'm his wife :) Of course, in classic Melissa fashion where she stubbles with her words and says the wrong words, Timmy sent me to give the medics an update. Instead of saying "scapula" I stumbled and said "spatula" Thankfully, I was fumbling with my words because I knew it was the wrong word. So, it wasn't as bad as just saying the wrong word and thinking it was right. However, this little moment happened in front of four parademics who all smiled and laughed - it was a nice laugh, though, not a mean one.

I think that's all the update we have for you. Just for clarification, Timmy is doing well. He is uncomfortable and it will be nice when we get his prescription filled. But overall, I think he is doing really well.

another sigh

I have gotten into the habit of watching The View in the mornings,mostly because I want to see what they will say that will piss me off. Probably not the best reason to watch a show, but I enjoy hearing these opinions. Today, I did two things while watching the show that I have never done before: 1 - I hit the couch in anger. 2 - I applauded in agreement.

The topic was a celebrity divorce that ended because he was unfaithful to her. Now they are both fighting for child custody. Elizabeth, the more conservative lady of the bunch, said that she believes that his decision to have an ongoing affair is reflective of how he is as a father. Basically she made a connection between his relationship with his wife and his relationship with his children. The other ladies were very opposed to this comment "his relationship with his wife has nothing to do with his relationship with his children." Insert Melissa hitting the couch in anger and yelling "that is a LOAD OF CRAP!" Personally, I feel is you have an affair you forfeit any right to child custody. You have no respect for your wife, your marriage, your children. You lack integrity, loyalty, commitment. You are selfish, with no concern for your consequences. I know its a strong opinion. The discussion on the show became very heated, mostly because all the ladies were trying to tell Elizabeth why she was wrong. Elizabeth was so passionate about this and was unwilling to budge. You could visibly see her getting upset. She has a lot to say about marriage today and how people don't take it seriously. In fact she went on a little rant to which I physically applauded her.

All of this made me again think - "i'm just too conservative." I could never sit at that View table. After a few days, I would want to pull out all my hair and slap all the women. Even Elizabeth who is the more conservative one, says things that make me go "huh?" Even among friends, I feel this way. I remember one night as Timmy and I left group, I told him, "I think I'm just too conservative." Another sigh.

The Long Shot

I was watching The View when I learned that Ryan got his nomination for Half Nelson. Man, I was stoked. But, with a list like Peter O'Toole, Forrest Whitaker, Will Smith, and Leonardo DiCaprio, I fear my celebrity boy doesn't stand much of a chance. Sigh.

A Birthday of a Different Kind

Buffy contemplates Valhalla during the brief period of snow yesterday.

Old girl turned 17 years old this week. In dog years, she'd be..... dead. But hey, who's counting?

Happy birthday, wiener dog.

Birthday Celebration

Melissa got crabs on her birthday. Here's proof.

Hockey Status: Ummmm.... ????

So this past Wednesday felt kind of like the old, "Two steps forward, three steps back."

At the end of the first period of play, the score was actually TIED - 1 to 1. It was pretty amazing indeed. I attribute some of this parity to the fact that we were actually keeping to our set lines and making relatively frequent line changes.

In the second period, some of the discipline began to break down. But nonetheless, we ended the period at a respectable 5 to 2. (Yeah, we scored two goals, you heard me.)

Third period - complete meltdown. People jumping out whenever they felt like it and an opposing team that apparently got tired of playing such a close game with the worst team in the league. The game was called with 2 minutes left to play; final score - 12-2.

Le sigh.

Call me old fashioned, but I really miss the old spirit of sportsmanship. I know I've mentioned it before, and I know that if (by some miraculous chance) we had the opportunity to score ten goals or more in a game we probably would..... but the whole "beating your opponent into the ground" thing just seems like bad play. Especially when they have the old "shake hands and tell each other you played a good game" part comes around. I feel more like saying, "Congratulations. You want to come to my house and kick my dog now?" Or other less kind things. But no, instead I just sat on the bench, threw my gloves onto the playing surface and sneered when one of the classy opponents threw me a, "Good game." Okay, so I'm not the best example of sportsmanship in the world either. Oh well.

Next week I hope to stand up on my skates, possibly get a penalty and at least hit one or two people. That'd be fun.

Happy birthday to me...

Yesterday was my birthday, and it was a good day. I gave into my own indecisiveness and had a pretty laid back day. We went to the movies and saw The Pursuit of Happyness. That was an event because we hardly go to the movies. Then we went to Barnaby's in Aston for all you can eat crabs - mmm, mmm, mmm. Good times. Then tonight, my small group surprised me with a birthday cake. They even sang to me :) Oh and I got a balloon - I love birthday balloons.

In a little side note: I wore my new t-shirt today. Andy, Amy, and Kayleigh gave me a High School Musical t-shirt for Christmas. It's great. It's baby blue and on the front it says High School Musical in really big letters. Underneath the title it says, "We're All in This Together" It's a title of one of the songs in the show. My friends at group thought I was weird. Then I showed them the back of my shirt. It says my name across the back. They thought I was weirder. However, I'm not sure they noticed the other super cool part of my shirt. On the back of my shirt underneath my name is my number. Remember it looks like an athletic t-shirt. So, can you guess my number? Yup, you got it "311" - my anniversary with Timmy. That takes my t-shirt to an extreme level of "oh my goodness" and I totally love it - thanks Andy, Amy, and Kayleigh!!!

Hockey Status: Improving?

So last night we lost again. But, we scored a goal! And we played a whole three periods. I know. Miracles happen. And this was against "The Vandals" who were supposedly in a higher division last year but switched down so they could win more games.

Okay, the final score was still 8 - 1, but hey, what can you do?

What I can do is get ticked off when the other team is winning 7 - 1 with like 5 minutes left in the game and still playing like they're 2 goals down in game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals.

Oh, and especially when some big overweight mongrel knocks me down in a "no hit league" and the ref tells me it was probably just an accident.

Then the ref was worried that I was going to start a fight. I told him, "Seriously? Did you see the size of that guy? And look at me. I'm not going to start a fight with him. You find me a guy who weighs about 110 pounds and I'll take that guy out." That was my attempt at levity and looking like less of a hot head.

Next week we play "Bomb Squad" who we will probably lose to. But in the first week they played to a 4 -4 tie with the Vandals, so maybe we'll make it to the end of the game again. Baby steps.

wudup

Hey Everyone. It sure has been a while since I blogged. I haven't been very motivated. I haven't been very motivated to do anything really. Just being lazy, blaming it on the holidays. Technically the holidays are over, but thanks to a mid-January birthday, I get to extend the holidays. Timmy and I are still planning on going to NYC to celebrate my 27th. We just aren't sure how exactly. We want to be a little financially cautious since the last few months seemed to suck up so much of our money and we still want to head out to Columbus to visit the Crawfords.

So, what to say....

Do you know that show Inside the Actors Studio? I enjoy that show, when the right actor is on. Last night I watched a bit of it with Matt Damon. I love the last segment of the show when James Lipton asked his set list of questions:

1. What is your favorite word?
2. What is your least favorite word?
3. What turns you on?
4. What turns you off?
5. What is your favorite curse word?
6. What sound or noise do you love?
7. What sound or noise do you hate?
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
9. What profession would you not like to do?
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

I'm never really sure how to answer those questions. And I think about it often. I mean, what will I tell Mr. Upton when I become a celebrity and get invited to the show! I don't know. Right now, the only one I do know is my favorite sound or noise: Timmy at home worshipping. At this moment, I'm laying on the couch and he's on the floor going through his set list for tomorrow. I hope that some day we will have a baby. I'm sure if that ever happens, our baby's laugh will be my favorite sound, but for now, I do love this one.

....

So, the last couple of days I have been on the hunt for Half Nelson. Most of you know about my celebrity crush on Ryan Gosling. Thankfully, my crush isn't entirely superficial since the guy has some really interesting movies. I've been looking forward to watching this one for a while, but I haven't seen it anywhere - theater or video store. So, yesterday I went to Blockbuster - nothing. Then today, I went to our local place, whose name I can't think of - again, nothing. I really want to see it, especially since it's getting that whole buzz thing. I hate looking for movies at the video store that have a lot of buzz because it can be impossible to track down, especially an independent like Half Nelson. Well, it seems that you can purchase it online and it is available through Nexflix. That would suggest to me that I should be able to rent it. He's gained enough commercial attention from The Notebook that the movie should be at the store. Even then, before The Notebook, you could find his other obscure, independent movies. Booooo. Where's Half Nelson?!?!?!?!?

...

Alright Timmy and I have a game plan. We're going to stop by his parents and borrow Pirates 2 and then we're going to pick up some Boston Market - ah, yes, a happening Saturday night indeed.

Hockey Status: Poor

Tonight was the first game of the 10 game season for Crozer Hockey, we played the University of Pennsylvania.

I think we actually got one or two shots on goal in the second period. Not me, personally, but I did block 3 shots and was only a minus 4.

Apparently the U of P team was really bad last year and so they had a few of the players from their higher division team playing on this team. Minimal consolation in that one.

Oh, and they didn't have a goalie, so in net they had one of the guys who is on staff at the rink.

Our goalie was playing in his first actual game.... ever? You know, aside from street hockey, I think.

As it turns out, this league has a sort of "ten run rule" - like in most softball leagues. We triggered this rule with about one minute left in the second period.

U of Penn: 10
Crozer: 0

The worst team in Crozer history was the "Chester Cheetahs" who played in a Dek Hockey league at Family Fun Spot several years ago. They scored one goal the whole season.

We might give them a run for their money.

What's In A Name?

I sit here at work, watching a rerun of a treasured childhood classic - Airwolf. Aside from realizing that the acting is even worse than that of The A-Team, I was also disturbed to learn that the lead character (portrayed by the venerable and intoxicated Jan-Michael Vincent) was named Stringfellow Hawk. How could I forget such a delightful piece of 80's television goodness? I guess the young lad was distracted by the cool helicopters and explosions and couldn't be bothered with characters and such.

Anyway, it occured to me that maybe Neil was just a little bit behind the times with his character names like Vryxnyr and Drant. If we'd made a crappy home movie in the 80's, he would've been the cat's pajamas.

Gollies, Labradoodles are Cockapoo

A brief note on the ridiculousness of our country.

I remember, back in the days of my youth, there were generally three options in the realm of dogs:

1) Pure Bred - These were the dogs you saw on the AKC dog show. They were probably in the $500 range, for most breeds.
2) Mixed Breed - These dogs had two distinct breeds as parents. An example of such would be the ubuquitous Buffy, who is a mix between a German Shepherd and a Norwegian Elkhound. My family paid $100 for Buffy back in 1990. I guess sometimes people cross-bred dogs on purpose, but probably more often than not it was just a little something something that happened out in the kennel and now there were some puppies the breeder had to get off his hands.
3) Mutt - Somehow your dog got out of the yard and came back in a family way, so now you had these indistinguishable mongrel puppies and you practically had to offer your friends an family members money to take them off your hands.

So, then, back to the original point. I am seeing an increasing and disturbing rise in, "Designer Breeds." A designer breed is nothing more than a mixed breed that someone has labeled by combining the names of the two parents breeds. Examples, as noted in the title of this entry:

Gollie - Goldren Retriever / Collie
Labradoodle - Labrador Retriever / Poodle
Cockapoo - Cocker Spaniel / Poodle

Normally I would say, fine, these people just have way too much time on their hands. But no, this apparently entitles people to offer their pups up for around $500-$1,000. Inflation is one thing, especially when some pure-bred pups now around going for upwards of $2,000, but for crying out loud, it's a freaking dog.

The aforementioned "Gollie" puppies, I saw on a Philadelphia classifieds website and they looked nothing like either a Golden Retriever or a Collie. They were jet black. And they were still $599 each. For a glorified mutt with a name that might be considered clever by someone who doesn't get out of the house much.

Ugh.

don't you...

don't you hate mornings like this? Yesterday, I was so excited that Tindall was going to let me have off today. But when Timmy's alarm went off at 6am, I got up to use the bathroom and I couldn't fall back asleep. I haven't slept well all week and was looking forward to sleeping in. I put on My So Called Life hoping it would help, but nope...Now, I'm lying in the dark, going on episode two of MSCL. I think I'm just going to get up. Target opens at 8am; I need to make an exchange and pick up one last gift. Maybe I can take a nap this afternoon.

Merry.... Christmas?

This is mildly disturbing, very long (6 mins?) and may contain a little bit of provacative dancing, depending on your standards. Oh, and it's either hilarious or sad. Possibly both.

Let Down

So on Monday, after about 24 cumulative playing hours, I beat Marvel Ultimate Alliance on "hard" mode. And guess what? It gave me the same stupid ending as I got when I beat it on "medium" mode. What the heck? So I just played through the game a second time through, only it was more annoying this time, only to see nothing better? What a ripoff. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's a fun game and all, just a little bit of a let down. That's all. Sigh.

bummer

According to this, I didn't pass the third grade and the short bus is on its way to pick me up :(

Signs, Signs, Everywhere Are Signs

Anyone who has seen the motion picture Signs should recognize our apartment right away.

....This water is contaminated....

Now if only I could stop swinging this silly baseball bat.

Weird

So I never really buy it when people in other parts of the country tell me that I have a "Philly Accent". To me, a Philly accent brings to mind someone from South Philly ordering a "cheesesteak wit" or something along those lines. But me? No, I picture myself as sort of a vacuum of accent - neither good, bad nor indifferent. Even as I took this little quizzlet thing that I saw on G-Knee's blog, in fact, I thought my answers were all pretty middle of the road and normal. Yet, nonetheless, I have been outed as a Philadelphian. Go figure. Or should I say, "Fughetaboutit!"

What American accent do you have? Your Result: Philadelphia Your accent is as Philadelphian as a cheesesteak! If you're not from Philadelphia, then you're from someplace near there like south Jersey, Baltimore, or Wilmington. if you've ever journeyed to some far off place where people don't know that Philly has an accent, someone may have thought you talked a little weird even though they didn't have a clue what accent it was they heard.
The Northeast
The Midland
The South
The Inland North
Boston
The West
North Central
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

smile

I love my boy. I know, I know, I'm sure everyone is sick and tired of hearing how much I love my boy. But it's true - I do. I was just rereading old emails. Actually I reread the first email - the email that started it all. I had sent him a couple of emails regarding worship. I was helping Luke out with some worship stuff and "Tim" had just joined the team. But one night, one bad night, I couldn't sleep. I was going through personal crap. Life sucked. I felt so alone that night, so I gave up trying to sleep and went on the computer. I looked to the brv discussion board and saw that "T!M" was online. He seemed like a nice guy. I went to PM (personal message) him, but he left before I could say hi. Boo. And then completely out of character, I decided to email him. It started like this:

I can't sleep. Sometimes life sucks too much to sleep. No one is
awake. No one to talk to. No one to tell that sometimes life just
sucks. So I went online to the discussion board and saw your name.
Tim's awake! And I went to PM you but before I was even done telling
you that I needed someone to vent that life sometimes suck, you were
gone and I was alone again. Just like a man - leaves me just when I
need him most - totally kidding!!

You're probably confused as to why I am even writing. Truth is, I'm
not really sure why I'm writing either. I just want someone to say hi
to. I think I like the fact that you don't know anything about me and
you seem like a nice enough guy to humor an insomniac.

I still can't believe that I sent him that email. And the above is just an excerpt to a really long, really random email. I swear it was God who filled me with that courage - no, it wasn't courage, because I wasn't "into him." I really was just lonely and wanted someone to talk to, but it was 1:30 in the morning and no one was awake. No one except Tim. So emotionally messed up and exhausted, I did something that I never would have done - ever. Truth is, I feel like many of those early days with Timmy were characterized by that - me doing stuff I never would have done. But it was Jesus. I really believe that. So, after I sent him this really long, really random email, I realize that I never signed it. So, what do I do but send him another email:

You would think we were like best friends that I should send you this
random email at 130 in the morning and not even sign it. Now tomorrow
morning this will be the email that I will make me cringe with
embarrassment. Oh well...

Melissa

(Melissa Rolon, the girl from kinship, the girl who emails you about
worship stuff, the girl who kept calling Bill "Tito")

What was wrong with me???? Nothing was wrong with me. I was being spiritually empowered. The Lord was supernaturally leading me to the man who would be my husband. Anyway, that last excerpt made me smile a lot. "You would think we were like best friends..." And here we are, best friends. Oh, I just remembered this great scene from High School Musical. Oh, I know that I will lose whoever stayed with me up to this point. But listen. The lead girl in the movie tells the lead boy:

Do you remember in kindergarten how you'd meet a kid and know nothing about them. Then 10 seconds later you'd be playing like you were best friends, because you didn't have to be anyone but yourself?

It was true. At least over email. In person, I was mortified and avoided him as much as I could :)

Ninja Warrior

So I'm currently way too into watching this show Ninja Warrior on the G4 network. It's basically like some weird hybrid of Most Extreme Challenge and American Gladiators, but it's strangely riveting. I find myself being disappointed when Bunpei Shiratori fails to finish the third stage, even though he trains so hard in the course he's replicated in his back yard. I know, right? Oh well. I have to do something at 12am while I'm at work.

some thoughts

NO MORE FAITH by Andrew Peterson

This is not another song about the mountains
Except about how hard they are to move
Have you ever stood before them
Like a mustard seed who's waiting for some proof?

I say faith is a burden
It's a weight to bear
It's brave and bittersweet
And hope is hard to hold to
Lord, I believe
Only help my unbelief

Till there's no more faith
No more hope
I'll see your face and Lord, I'll know
That only love remains

Have you heard it said that Jesus is the answer
And thought about the many doubts you hide
Have you wondered how he loves you
If He really knows how dark you are inside

I say faith is a burden
It's a weight to bear
It's brave and bittersweet
And hope is hard to hold to
Lord, I believe
Only help my unbelief

Till there's no more faith
No more hope
I'll see your face and Lord, I'll know
When there's no more faith
And no more hopeI'll sing your praise and let them go
'cause only love
only love remains

So I will drive these roads in thunder and in rain
And I will sing your song at the top of my lungs
And I will praise you, Lord, in glory and in pain
And I will follow you till this race is won
And I will drive these roads till this motor won't run
And I will sing your song from sea to shining sea
And I will praise you Lord, till your kingdom comes
And I will follow where you lead

Till there's no more faith
No more hope
I'll see your face and Lord, I'll know
When there's no more faith
And no more hope
I'll sing your praise and let them go
'cause only love
Only love remains

This song has been on my mind the last couple of days. On Wednesday morning, I told Tindall how unprepared I was for group that night. He asked what passage we would be talking about: John 11, when Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead and declares, "I am the resurrection and the life." Mark had a different perspective on this passage. At the time, his mother-in-law was sick, very sick, her final days. He asked me to think of that passage with her in mind.

I once had this interesting conversation with a friend about faith. I told him "It's true. This whole thing could be the greatest scam of all time. And if it is, I am going down with it." If we knew for sure, without a doubt, that wouldn't be faith. I once heard that the opposite of faith isn't doubt; it's certainty. And I believe that. I think of Mark's mother-in-law during her final days. I can imagine during my final days thinking, "this is it. All my hope and all my faith. And very soon, I will know for sure, no doubt."

And then I think of this song. When we die, we know without any doubt. When we die, there is no more need for faith or for hope. We will know all we need to know. No more faith. No more hope. Only love. Great song. I especially love to sing this song at the top of my lungs when faith is little harder than usual.