a long view

A Melancholy Memory (sort of) in Honor of Friendlys

2011-10-17T14:33:00.001-04:00

Friendly's is an institution in the Northeast. I just read the news that it's facing bankruptcy and in danger of closing.

Since I started taking piano lessons at the age of 4, my parents would take me and my sister to Friendly's after our piano recitals as a special treat. One time my parents let us share one of those big fat sundaes which we ate in six minutes flat.

I was never very good at piano. I didn't have any sort of natural skill and I didn't like practicing, but my piano teacher was a family friend who I loved, so I stuck with it long past when I should have given it up, more for her sake than for mine (and probably a little bit because of the Friendly's treat). My sister gave piano up at age 12, but I played until I was 16.

In what would be my last recital, I was to play Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." It sounds like moonlight, soft and slow and quiet. It doesn't have the flash of faster pieces but the beauty is in the touch, which has to be light.

I hadn't practiced enough going into it, so I didn't have the piece memorized like everyone else did with their pieces. Not only that, but midway through I lost my place and had to play one particular phrase over and over again until I found where I was supposed to be.

As soon as I finished and sat down, I wanted to leave. I knew I hadn't done my best -- not even close to it. I was disappointed, and I tried to avoid everyone when I was done, even my piano teacher. One woman who managed to stop me told me, "I could tell that was a really hard piece," which in my mind was a really bad way of saying, "I understand why you were terrible."

When I was on my way out the door, a guy from my church who was a gifted piano player, stopped me with a hand on the shoulder. "Christina, listen, no matter how you did, everyone here loves you. Everyone wants to support you and encourage you. No one is here to judge you or put you down." At the time, I hated his words. I couldn't even look him in the face while he said it. I thought to myself, "No one wants to support me! I'm awful!"

At Friendly's I didn't finish my sundae. I felt like I was too big and too old for everything, for piano, for recitals, for sitting in a booth with my parents, for sundaes. I felt like my life was a poorly made sweater, and every time I tried to pull it or shift it around, it still felt uncomfortable.

I got over it, as adolescents do. Last year as my confirmation students were practicing their speeches for the church, one young girl in particular looked like she had on that poorly made sweater. Putting her face in her hands, she couldn't even start reading what she had written. Her speech was excellent, all about her friends going through hard times, and how God uses us when people are hurting. I told her it was excellent, but it didn't help.

"What's the worst thing you can imagine happening?" I asked.

"I'll mess up." she said, "People will laugh."

She reminded me of myself, trying to slip away from the piano recital And the words of this older boy came into my head, words at the time I had hated, words at the time that I hadn't believed. Words that suddenly became true when as a confident adult I was facing myself as a teenager, when the task of feeling comfortable in my own skin had felt completely impossible. I thought about this girl in front of me, terrified about exposing her thoughts in front of our congregation, and I thought of our congregation, and how proud they would be of her, and the words she was saying, and how much she had grown, even if she stumbled over her words or giggled in the middle of her speech. Everyone here loves you. Everyone wants to support you and encourage you. No one is here to judge you or put you down.

"Let me tell you a story," I said.

one sentence book reviews: catching up on the 25 book challenge (17 down, 8 to go)

2011-09-19T13:02:00.002-04:00

ROOM, Emma Donoghue
Don't read if you don't like baby talk -- someday I'll learn that just because something's a best seller doesn't mean it's good.

Crooked Little Heart, Anne Lamott
I love me some Anne Lamott, and this is a beautiful picture of what it means to be a family figuring out adolescence. This is the kind of book that makes you feel like the characters are still off somewhere living their lives after you finish reading. Crap, that was two sentence. Now three! Curses.

Cracking Creativity, Michael Michalko
For a book on creativity, it sure is boring.

Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian, Sherman Alexie
A good young adult book about a nerdy, skinny Native American kid trying to leave behind but still respect where he comes from, but not one that translates very well to adult reading.

Electric God, Catherine Ryan Hyde
I enjoyed this book, but I think it says something that I can't remember what it was about two months after the finishing it.

Governance and Ministry: Rethinking Board Leadership, Dan Hotchkiss
Man, I hate reading books like this, but as a necessary evil, there were some good tips on stuff they never teach you in seminary.

Push, Sapphire
So unflinching, a story of hope and resilience and the power of being given a voice.

Jim and Casper Go to Church, Jim Henderson
A Christian and an atheist go church-hopping, and the atheist gives an objective opinion of what church looks like to an outsider with little church experience. (Should be called Jim and Caspar go to Big Churches though, I was like "let's get some love for the little churches!!) (Parenthetical remarks don't count as sentences) (in case you were wondering)

Listening is an Act of Love, Dave Isay, editor
So. GREAT. (emphatic use of periods also don't count as sentences). Basically a book of true stories recorded all over the country, spanning 9/11, family illnesses, love stories, general amazingness.

Like Water for Elephants, Sara Gruen
Another entertaining novel that I don't really remember

A Pale View of the Hills, Kazuo Ishiguro
See above

Love in the Present Day, Catherine Ryan Hyde
(Apparently I was on a Catherine Ryan Hyde kick). THIS one I remember, the story of a 20 something guy who ends up having to take in a 5 year old boy when his mother disappears.

Home Town, Tracy Kidder
(I debated counting this, because it was my "bathroom book," meaning I only read it in the bathroom --is that TMI? -- so it took me over a year to read it. But I finished it in 2011). I love the way Tracy Kidder sinks into the atmosphere he's writing about (in this case small town New England) and I especially loved the people he brought to life: the cop tied with tight strands to his home town, his troubled, abusive friend, the rich man with crippling anxiety, the single mom struggling in the upper class world of Smith College.

So there we are. All caught up and back in business. What are you reading?

Three Things You Should Definitely Do in Charlottesville VA

2011-09-10T11:49:00.001-04:00

Last week for a part of my vacation I went to visit some friends in Charlottesville, VA, totally missing Hurricane Irene.It rained a little on Saturday, but Sunday, the day folks back in Boston were "hunkering down" (if I had a dollar for every time a newscaster said some version of "hunkering down" in the days leading up to Irene, I would not need a face painting career)

Go to The Flat
The Flat is my friend Lauren's lovely little "takeaway creperie." I lived with Lauren for two years and she's very good at making yummy things, but she is especially good at making crepes. She uses a lot of fresh, natural ingredients, and my personal favorites were the "Babe in the Woods" (local, woods-raised sausage, Chev and cheddar cheese, spinach, and onions) and the "Sexy Cheesemonger" (full disclosure: I did not try the Sexy Cheesemonger. But isn't that a great name?) If you can't get there, like them on facebook. It'll be almost the same thing.

Get coffee and see a band at Rapunzel's
This little coffee shop/book store/entertainment venue is in Lovingston, VA. Here's the thing. Lovingston is like an hour outside of Charlottesville. Totally tiny town. Totally in the middle of nowhere. But yet there's this funky little spot with great coffee and an even greater atmosphere. My friends and I saw We Are Star Children, and the crowd there was a crazy mix of older people, goth teenagers, hippies, and kids. Awesome.

Experience The Waltons Mountain Museum
Of the "classic" TV shows my parents DVR and never watch, The Waltons is my favorite. The show always managed to keep a good balance between the weekly angst and hardship of Little House on the Prarie, and the aw, shucks wacky hijinks of Andy Griffith or Leave to Beaver (could anyone else not stand that Andy and Ward were ALWAYS right? I mean, could Aunt Bea or June have their day? I'm just sayin') Also, I had a little crush on Jason, with his high waisted pants and his earnest piano playing and guitaring.

Swoon!

Anyway, The Walton's Mountain Museum is in an old elementary school in Schuyler, VA. Two older women sit inside at a round table and shuffle over when you show up to collect your name and your $8.00. Some of the highlights of the museum:

Taking your photo with Ike and Corabeth cutouts at the general store
Measuring yourself against all the Waltons (I'm shorter than Jason -- phew!)
Seeing a real, locally confiscated recipe machine (recipe=moonshine, obvi)
Experiencing just how much Waltons paraphenelia there is in the world (John Boy and Mary Ellen paper dolls, anyone?)
Appreciating Earl Hamner for the prolific writer he was. Earl Hamner wrote the Waltons based on his own life (he was John Boy), but he also wrote the film story for Charlotte's Web, the TV movies of Heidi and Lassie, episodes of The Wild Thornberrys, as well as the decidedly less family friendly fare of The Long Hot Summer.

In conclusion: Eat Crepes. Drink Coffee. See Jason.

8 things I do in my car with my broken radio

2011-09-06T22:18:00.001-04:00

About 6 months ago, my radio died. The CD that was in the CD player (a podcast, which is entertaining but doesn't stand up to multiple listening) wouldn't come out. The radio, which was on a soft rock/adult contemporary station (Magic 106.7), wouldn't change stations. As a result I've spent a lot of time in my car, listening to soft rock or sitting in silence.

1. actually listen to Magic 106.7. This has mixed results. There are songs that Magic 106.7 loves to play, and I have grown to hate those songs (if I ever liked them. If they were songs I hated already, now they make me shake with rage -- what's that song about someone being your crying shoulder and love's suicide. OH. MY. GOSH. That song burns my brain). The other day Tracy Chapman's "Fast Car" came on and I almost cried, I was so happy to hear something that I actually liked.

2. gripe about all the songs that Magic could play, but doesn't. Soft rock, right (what does soft rock even MEAN)? Adult contemporary? Easy listening? Why don't they ever play folk? That would fit into that category. There are a million Sarah McLachlan songs they could play but they only "Angel." What about all the other Tracy Chapman songs?

3. make up stories. Someday I'm going to pay my way through a doctorate by writing a series of novels about a single female pastor in the city, all the terrible dates she goes on, and all the quirky experiences she has with her church. I use my time in the car to think up how I can change my real life stories to make them unrecognizable, or making up fake stories.

4. organize my life. Grocery lists, plans for how I'm going to start cleaning my apartment more often, in a structured way. Of course, these organizational plans don't usually come out of my car, but at least I think them.

5. call people who don't pick up the phone. The problem with being a pastor is that I'm driving around when other people are working. So I want to talk on the phone to amuse myself, and if my friends do pick up the phone, they're not likely wanting to chat. They are more likely to say, "What? I'm working."

6. sing to myself, usually show tunes. I can get very animated doing this. "Tell them how IIIIII'MMMMM deFYing GRAAAAvity!"

7. think about what might be playing on NPR. Sometimes this makes me sad, sometimes it makes me happy. Magic has almost no talk, and sometimes I want the latest news or weather. But sometimes I think, "if this was NPR, they'd be talking drearily about the economy again." I'm ok with avoiding that.*

8. plan my face painting career. A early in June we had a children's singer come to our church who usually charges $400 for an HOUR's worth of entertainment. He was entertaining, but not so entertaining that I would ever pay him $400. But someone does, so he's clearly doing something right. So I got to thinking about what I could do in one hour that would earn a lot of money. Legally, of course. I came up with face painting, but if you have other ideas, pass 'em on.

*UPDATE: since composing this post my radio had a moment where all the buttons worked. I took that moment to change the station to NPR, drearily talking about the economy (except for a few days ago when they were talking to a guy who wrote a whole book on bananas. Weird!) Also I got a radio for my birthday that has yet to be installed. So things are looking up.

"We see from where we stand" -- Haitian proverb

2011-05-20T11:22:00.000-04:00

A few days ago I was driving through Hyde Park. I stopped at a stop sign, for 3 seconds like the good citizen I am, and then proceeded.

I wasn't on the phone, or changing the radio station (because I can't change the radio station, my car's stuck on Magic 106.7), but for some reason I wasn't paying enough attention, and as I proceeded I cut off a woman who was crossing the street.

She stopped short and glared at me. "Fucking bitch!" she said, loud enough for me to hear.

I was shocked, at first. I wanted to stop and say, "No, wait, I'm sorry, I didn't see you, I'm actually a really nice person! I'm a pastor, for goodness sakes!" Then I thought of all the times that someone cuts me off when I'm walking or driving, and I think something similar in my head (with less colorful language, but just as angry: "ok buddy, you're in SUCH a hurry.")

The truth is, maybe the driver who cuts me off IS in a hurry. Maybe he's a nice guy who wasn't paying attention. Maybe the woman who yelled at me was having a bad day. Maybe I was one in a long line of people who weren't paying attention to her, and she was sick of it. She and I are only seeing from where we each stand, looking at the situation from our own individual perspectives, and that makes her short tempered with a potty mouth, and me self centered with little concern for others.

It's easy to see from where we stand. But it's also only half the picture.

2 times I didn't say anything, and 1 time I did

2011-04-08T11:11:00.001-04:00

Where I grew up, there was this old school mom and pop soda shop called Emmanuel's. It was run by a mother and her two grown children, and I would spend Saturdays leaning over the counter picking out nickel and dime candy. In high school we would go there everyday after school, crowding around a table, sharing one plate of fries, sitting for a couple hours and most likely being borderline obnoxious, as one is prone to do when you're young and surrounded by friends that make you laugh and blush.

One afternoon, there were four of us girls and two boys, one who was white and one who was black. While we were eating, the mother came over and said to the boys, "You can't stay here and not buy anything."

They were confused, as we were all eating off one plate of fries, but one of them said, "OK, can I have a Coke, then?" But she refused, and kicked both the boys out. Once they left, she turned back to us.

"You girls are nice girls, you shouldn't be hanging out with boys like that. They're maggots, those black boys. Maggots." And then she left us. We stared at each other, silent, and then gathered up our stuff and left. We never went back again.

***

One summer during college I was in Dunkin Donuts and there were a few young black kids in front of me in line. They got some donuts, and left, and the older white police officer who was standing behind me said, "We've got names for kids like that." And then he chuckled.

***

In college I was in a group called Students Organized Against Racism (SOAR). We went bowling, and I was driving some of the students home in my old Dodge when we got pulled over, because I'm from Boston and a bit of a speed racer. In the front with me was my friend, an African-American female, and there were two Middle Eastern guys and an African-American girl in the back seat.

The police officer came up to the window and asked who we were and where we were going, as I started to explain, he shone his flashlight into the back seat. "Show me your hands," he said, shining his flashlight into the faces of the students in the back. When they were slow in responding, he shouted, "SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!"

I remember thinking at the time that he actually sounded scared, instead of mean or angry. Now, I try to imagine this situation from his point of view, not knowing that we were coming from something as innocent as bowling, possibly having had bad experiences with Colby students before, maybe being new on the job (he was quite young).

He called for backup. With the other police car there, he collected all of our IDs and ended up giving the students in the backseat seatbelt violations, and letting me go without a ticket. In the morning, I wrote a (pretty mild) letter to the police station that said the officer's actions could have been perceived as racist. I explained that I got off, even though I was endangering my whole vehicle and my friends were only endangering themselves. The police chief called me a few days later.

"I spoke to the office in question," he said, "he said he's not racist."

We talked for a while longer, but that was as far as he was willing to go investigating the case. I hung up feeling helpless. It was my first time (or most significant time thus far) learning that not everything could be fixed.

***

When we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard or welcomed. But when we are silent, we are still afraid. So it is better to speak.
--Audra Lorde

extra short story: companions

2011-03-19T19:32:00.002-04:00

When I was little I wanted to be a writer. I wrote a LOT, about adventurous girls who joined circuses or ate magical candy bars that sped them into places unknown. Those stories are probably pretty embarrassing to read now, but maybe someday I'll find an old story and post it for you, if you're good. The older I got, the less I wrote, which I didn't like. Part of my motivation for (re)starting this blog was to follow through on my new year's resolution to write more, creatively, which can take may many forms, the extra short story being one of them. This is a work of fiction with some real life details (I'll leave you to decide what those are).

Companions

When the woman gets on the train, there is a young boy in a black button down shirt and jeans, yelling and barking. He's not mentally ill, as far as she can tell, he just thinks it's funny to make people uncomfortable by being louder than acceptable on the train. He throws himself on the floor of the train, and the girl who is sitting three seats down from the woman threatens, mostly to herself, that she will stick her umbrella in his eye if he falls on her again. She says this with a lot more curse words. He pretends not to hear, but he doesn't come near her again.

At Haymarket the woman gets off, walking through the North End towards her friend's apartment. This is a night for dating, she sees. It's still warm enough for many of the restaurants to leave the windows open, and there are couples sitting at tables, touching hands or clutching coffee mugs to avoid it. Some of these are probably first dates, she thinks, as she walks by two men in Caffe Vittoria. The one facing her is wearing a jaunty hat and too hip glasses – he is trying hard, she thinks, but she likes it.

Unbidden, the image of the older man who sometimes comes into the coffee shop where she works appears in her mind. She doesn't know much about him, if he's married, or if he hides his money under his mattress, only that they talk about faith and luck. She finds conversations with him interesting, moreso than the dates she's been on, with the guys who can't stop going on about their dead cats or their unwritten screenplays. He is nearly twice her age, but she suddenly wonders if they might ever be seated like this, across a table over gelato.

At the end of the night, full of gnocchi, she trails sleepily down the steps towards the subway platform, past two men, one who is blind. The man who can see is at the bottom, counting as his friend slowly edges downward. "Three more," he says, watching the cautious movements, "Now two." On the platform is a boy on a bike, with two girls. One girl says, “Leave me alone!” and moves past him to an alcove, where she hides, but she is smiling. The boy goes after her until only his back tire is sticking out of the alcove. They're talking quietly, and her friend moves a little closer but not too close, leaning against a pole and playing with her phone. She flicks her eyes up every now and then when she hears a giggle or a hush.

There are just a few people left on the train at the woman's stop. She holds her keys in her hand. As she walks away from the station, she thinks for a moment that her car might not be where she's left it, that there might be a blank space on the street instead of her slumped little sedan. But as she gets closer she can see it, sagging to the right where the front tire is leaking, waiting quietly in the lowlit street.

vehicle chronicles, vol. 1

2011-03-07T09:55:00.000-05:00

My first car was a 1986 Dodge Aries (a K car, a nice Reliant automobile) that I inherited from my aunt when she passed away. I already had good memories of it -- my aunt used to park in the back of the church, and at the end of the service, after she stayed to listen to the very end of the postlude to clap for the organist, I would walk her out to the car. She would slump into it and slam the door, which stuck, and would creak slowly and then close with a loud crack.

My aunt was very smart, very funny, and very blunt, but not in the share-about-your-feelings kind of way. More in the "ok, it's time for you to go home now, I'm tired of talking to you" kind of way. Once when I was staying at her house she turned off Rags to Riches right in the middle and said, "That's enough TV for you." WHAT?!

But anyway, one Sunday I walked her out to the car and at the door, I said, "You're walking really well, you don't actually need me to walk you out here."

"I know," she said.

"So why do you want me to do it?"

"Because I love you!" she said, and gave me a whack on the cheek, "OK?"

That was the first and only time she told me she loved me.

She passed away in June 1997. I took her car up to college in the fall. It was light blue, and it had a bench front seat, so I could fit six people in the car with seat belts, which made me a popular driver. The car was old, but it didn't have a lot of miles on it because my aunt only ever took it to church or the store.

Once my friends and I drove up to this truck stop diner that was open 24 hours and basically the only option for excitement when you're at school in central Maine and you don't drink alcohol. As we were getting out of the car, a young guy getting out of his car stopped and pointed to the Colby College sticker I had on the back window. "You guys go to Colby?" he said.

"Yeah...." I said.

"I thought all Colby kids drove Beamers and Benzes!" he said, looking admiringly at us.

"Not this Colby kid," I said.

"That's awesome," he said, and then knelt down in front of me, "YOU'RE awesome. Will you marry me?"

Midnight, late 90s, at a truck stop in central Maine, while I was wearing sweatpants -- my first marriage proposal. I said no.

the REAL pros and cons of living in Boston

2011-03-03T12:18:00.001-05:00

It has come to my attention that there is a lot of traffic to this blog from the google search "pros and cons of living in Boston," which leads people to this post, which is, sad to say, mostly about how I like to wear slippers. For some reason, that post is like the 5th result of the above google search, which is probably due to some crazy math algorithms I don't understand. I am actually amazed I spelled algorithm right on the first try.

I feel sorry for those people, so here is an ACTUAL post about the pros and cons of living in Boston. Bear in mind that is coming from a native's perspective.

Things I love about Boston
1. Small in size. In Boston, if I am lost (which has happened often), and I find a street I recognize, I can turn down it, and it won't take too long to get somewhere helpful. I tried that technique once in Chicago and ended up an hour away on the opposite side of the city.

2. Dunkin Donuts everywhere. Mmmmm, iced coffee.

3. Public transportation is relatively cheap

4. You can get away from the city without too much hassle. The ocean is easily accessible, as are trees and other such outdoor prettiness

5. Something for everyone. Sports if you're into that. Culture (museums, musicals, symphony, universities, live music, libraries) if you're into that. History, if you're into that. Progressive politics, if you're into that.

6. Seasons. I lived in New Jersey for two years, and I actually was sad about the mild winters (and rolled my eyes the time school was cancelled for two inches of snow). I like that as soon as you're getting tired of one season, the next one is creeping in.

7. "I got her numbah -- how do you like them apples?"

Things I'm not as excited about:
1. People do drive kinda crazily. I'll admit it.

2. Things close down early. The T stops between midnight and one, bars/clubs between one and two. You're hard pressed to find something open 24 hours that's not a Dunkin Donuts (not a bad thing, see above). However, this does not bother me as much now as it did when I was younger. Now I'm like, "Oh, it's closing! Guess I have no choice but to go home and snuggle under my covers!"

3. We still have work to do: For all of our progressive politics, there is still a lot of segregation and division in the city. Between races, Boston natives and people who come for work/school, and especially between economic classes. You can get on a subway car at one end of the city and ride it into another and see the demographics change entirely.

4. Stuff's expensive. I don't really have a lot to compare this to, because I've only ever lived in cities, but my friends who live in smaller towns are always like, "My rent is $20!" Not the case in the Bean.

5. It's REALLY hard to give directions. Boston streets are NOT on a grid system. One time a guy pulled over in Hyde Park (where I live) and asked me how to get to the Prudential (the absurdity of this will make more sense to people familiar with Boston). In my head I was thinking, "Park and take the Orange Line." (I am torn about whether or not this is really a con: see below)

Things people say about Boston that I beg to differ with:
1. "People are unfriendly!" We're not unfriendly, we're just cautious. Why are you saying hi to me if you don't know me? Sometimes you're being courteous, sometimes you want me to sign onto your crazy website that has pictures of Obama with a Hitler mustache. I'm just sayin'

If you want an in, however, crazy-website people, Bostonians will ALWAYS talk about the weather.

2. "It's so difficult to navigate!" I will admit, it's easy to get lost in Boston. But that's only because the city has so much character! No grids here, the streets are old cow paths (source of information: my dad). The first weekend I lived in Chicago, I parked like 8 blocks away from my apartment because everything looked so similar there. That will never happen in Boston!

Final Verdict:
I like it here. Maybe you will too. :)

please bear with my American Idol enthusiasm :)

2011-02-28T16:16:00.000-05:00

OK, the first thing I have to say is that I love love LOVE Steven Tyler. Who knew? I had "Crazy" on my mixtapes in high school, but I think I always thought he was a little weird. But him as a judge on Idol? I could watch him all day long. He just really loves music and people singing well, and it totally shows.

In general, he and J. Lo. are a breath of fresh air, and they make Randy a gentler judge as well. I am SO excited about this season.

I usually hate the auditions portion of Idol. I skipped group night, but I caught up on some of the solo performances and Beatles night, and I have got to say without any reservation that this group is SUPER talented. There wasn't anyone I was listening to that made me go "whhaaaaaa?" and there were so many that I listened to that made me go "YEAH!"

So, without further ado, my three favorite guys...

1. Jacob Lusk. OMG listen to this guy sing this song. He's not just singing, he's sanging, with his whole self. And he's a goober who wears shiny sneakers and goes to church. Love him.

look at the judges' reactions here -- THAT'S why I love them. Also, my mom loved him, but that is probably because this song talks about God.

2. Paul McDonald. Love his funky, raspy voice.

Also, he's cute :)

3. Casey Abrams. This dude brought a BASS on American Idol. Who does that? I'll tell you. People I love.

and my three favorite girls...

1. Naima Adedapo. I saw her audition and loved her then, and now I love her more. She's a mom, who cleans toilets for work, she can really sing, she's totally gorgeous, and she has the best earrings in the whole competition.

2. Thia Megia. She's 15, but she sings and talks like she's 30. She has a GREAT style..there were so many girls who were wearing tight booty shorts and/or leather miniskirts. But she wears jeans and Cosby sweaters.

3. Rachel Zevita. I can see how her personality can get a little grating, but her voice is really interesting. She has a nice low register, and I love a girl with a nice low register (what's up Tracy Chapman)

So who's ready for season 10?!? I am!

and that settles it, except when it doesn't (3.5 down, 22.5 to go)

2011-02-25T18:36:00.000-05:00

‎"The only way that the Bible can be regarded as straightforward and simple is if no one bothers to read it" -- Jennifer Knust

In seminary I had to write a paper responding to the phrase: The Bible says it, I believe it, that settles it. This is simple and succinct. It will fit on a car bumper. You can throw it out in a discussion and it sounds authoritative and like it should stop all conversation. That's settles it! We're done here! There's no need for questions, because what the Bible says is what the Bible says, right? If you were holy and righteous, you'd agree.

But from the time I really started digging into the Bible, just after high school, through Intervarsity and the Christian ministry I worked in after college, through my time at seminary until now, I've decided that the above pithy conclusion is not as helpful as it seems. It's one of those six impossible things that Alice in Wonderland believed before breakfast. What we should actually say is: The Bible says a lot of things, some not as clearly as others, and I'm left to wrestle and pray and listen with the Spirit and a lot of other people who have a lot of questions too. That doesn't really fit that well on a bumper sticker.

I'm coming at this from an evangelical perspective. I love the Bible, I respect it, I view it as authoritative, I look to it when I am challenged or confused or discouraged or joyful. I use it as a guide to my life and believe that the Holy Spirit reveals Godself and God's plan for creation through it. But that doesn't mean that I automatically always understand everything I read, and that doesn't mean I haven't changed how I view some things that I've read in the Bible. The Bible says it, and I try to understand it, and sometimes I believe one way and then am challenged by other passages in the Bible or a sermon or a friend or a dream or a prayer or a song, and nothing ever settles it, not even remotely (also too long for a bumper sticker).

Part of this thought process has been spurred by the recent conversation in our denomination around sexuality, and some reading I've been doing as a result. I am halfway through Unprotected Texts by Jennifer Knust, a very interesting book with the central thesis that there is not one consistent Biblical ethic on sexuality. This is right after reading a few other books/articles whose authors would say just the opposite. It doesn't seem to me that any of the authors I have read want to abandon Scripture, rather they all handle Scripture very carefully and with great respect. They are scholars and pastors, and (it seems) people of great and earnest faith. So how is it that they have come down on different sides of the conversation?

It leaves me with two questions:

Can two people equally uphold the authority of Scripture, equally seek to love God and neighbor in all that they do, and still have different interpretations about what the Bible teaches? And if so, what are we supposed to do about that?

I think the answer to the first question is yes. The second question is one that has not yet been settled.

come help me study the Psaaaaaalms

2011-02-23T13:49:00.001-05:00

A single youth pastor finds her students much invested in her love life. Once about a year and a half ago I brought some students to a sandwich shop and had an approx. five minute conversation with the guy who took our order. An elaborate love story was concocted from that brief conversation, and this guy would pop up in conversation all the time. I would say, "I'm going to to NH this week," and they would say, "with Dave from the Real Deal?" and I would say, "No......."

Every guy who has ever come with me to church they have asked about (and almost every time the answer has been "No, just friends" -- an answer they are very disappointed by).

For the most part, I find it endearing. Most teenagers are natural matchmakers, and ultimately, they just want to see me happy, which is sweet. With all this investment, however, comes advice, good, bad, and ugly.

Good:
Just the other night, I had this conversation with a young adult.
Her: If you like someone, you should just tell them that you like them.
Me: Just like that.
Her: Yeah, like 'I like you.'
Me: And then what if they don't like you back.

Her: Then you're salted. I mean, you're really sauced. Your feelings are really, really hurt. But then it's over and you don't have to think about it.

I had no response to that because it was so wise and yet also the scariest thing in the world.

Bad:

Him: You should go down to the [Boston] Common if you want to meet someone.

Me: OK, so I go to the Common and then what?

Him: You just go up to someone and say, 'Do you have the time?' and then start a conversation from there.

Me: But what do you talk about after you ask the time?

Him: If you don't know how to talk to people, I can't help you...want me to go with you?

Me: NO.

Somehow, the idea of walking around the Common asking guys the time with a teenage wingman just doesn't seem like it's going to bear much fruit

Ugly:

Her: What's going with the boyfriend situation? It should be easy -- it's not even like you want someone cute, you don't care if they're ugly, they just got to be godly...just ask them to come help you study Psaaaaaaaalms. *eyebrow waggle*

Enough said.

for Valentine's Day

2011-02-14T14:50:00.000-05:00

because that last post wasn't very Valentine-y, and I actually really like Valentine's Day.

This scene embedded Duckie in my affections. I would have a hard time turning down any man who would lip sync for me :)

Why I love Anne Lamott and a story of failure (3 down, 22 left to go)

2011-02-14T11:19:00.002-05:00

I love Anne Lamott.

I just finished Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith, which is the third book I've read by her. I love how honest she is, how willing she is to say when she doesn't understand something, or doesn't do something well, or struggles with her faith. I love how completely she trusts in God's grace. I love how she says things that other people think but would be to afraid to say. I love the utter vulnerability in her writing, not looking for sympathy, not running herself down, not getting caught up in her failures, doing nothing less than truth telling. We all have said mean things when we're angry, we all have been unforgiving, we all have wanted to be right more than we've wanted to be kind, we all have felt uncomfortable or anxious in our own skin, we all have been ungrateful, we have all doubted God or God's goodness -- it's just that so few of us want to talk about it.

Once at a pastor's meeting we were asked to share a moment of failure. It was a bold request -- we didn't really know each other well enough to trust each other with our most difficult moments. Some pastors responded with successes masked in failure language ("I am too patient...here was a time when I gave too much of myself"). Some responded with funny stories about minor mishaps -- more embarrassing moments than failures. Some responded with serious stories -- failing out of school, marriage difficulties. Then it was my turn.

When I was in NJ, I was running a summer program for jr. highers in the inner city. At the end of the day, I was usually tired. Probably not more tired than my staff, but I was the leader and that came with perks, one of which was waiting upstairs for the bus while my staff watched the kids downstairs. Part of me told myself it would be better for me to be downstairs with the kids, but the other part of me whispered "You have worked hard. You're in charge." So I sat on the steps upstairs, waiting for the bus to pick up the kids from outside the neighborhood.

I was on the steps one day as C's dad showed up. It was her third day of camp; she was a girl with slight special needs and so her parents didn't want her walking home by herself. They told me they would pick her up. "Oh," I said, "she's downstairs." He nodded and smiled and went downstairs. I leaned back against the doorframe.

C's dad came back upstairs. "She's not down there."

I went back down with him, my face beginning to flush. "She must be" I thought to myself. But my staff shrugged their shoulders. Her father was very quiet; I knew his heart must be pounding worse than mine. I ran into the bathroom, which was empty. I stayed in there an extra second, wishing her feet would appear under a stall. I dreaded going back out and facing her father with my hands empty. I started justifying things in my head, asking why my staff had been slacking, why they hadn't paid more attention to her, but I hadn't told them that her dad picked her up, that her parents were worried about her walking home, that they should generally keep a better eye on her. Even as I tried to pass off blame in my head, I felt it resting on me, heavy as a stone.

Her father and I got in his car, and started driving slowly around the city. I said nothing. I couldn't look at him. I prayed in my head, and every part of my body was burning and frozen at the same time. When we drove by her grandmother's house, he stopped suddenly, because she was standing in the doorway, smiling. I smiled too, like it changed what I had done, like her safety made my mistake smaller. I said, "Thank God," and told her father I was sorry, but he said nothing in return, just dropped me back off at the program. She never came back to camp.

That was my failure story. It didn't get any laughs. If you have seen me run a summer program now, you know I am constantly counting kids, looking for kids, checking on kids. I spend my time on field trips with my arms crossed, eyes moving back and forth. I am much more vigilant when I'm in charge of young people. That lesson has been learned. What I am still learning is how to accept and admit mistakes, to say, "It was my fault," full stop, with no excuses or qualifications. In some ways, that was, and still is the harder lesson.

I think we get scared to admit our failure because failure inevitably has consequences, and because one of those consequences might be that people stop loving you and starting thinking bad things about you, and maybe even God gets upset at you and stops loving you.

I love Anne Lamott because she can say "I did a dumb thing. It was stupid or dangerous or wrong, and it was my fault." I love her because she can say that, facing the inevitable consequences, and still believe that she is totally loved by God. Because she is! We all are, no matter what we do -- nothing is so bad that God stops loving us. That's a lesson the church, especially pastors, have to do a better job of teaching.

"You were loved because God loves, period. God loved you, and everyone, not because you believed in certain things, but because you were a mess, and lonely, and His or Her child. God loved you no matter how crazy you felt on the inside, no matter what a fake you were; always, even in your current condition, even before coffee. God loves you crazily, like I love you...like a slightly overweight auntie, who sees only your marvelousness and need." --Anne Lamott

Beauty: a post about the book that sort of spirals out of control (2 down, 23 to go)

2011-02-10T08:10:00.004-05:00

This story was mildly entertaining, but not nearly as creative or interesting as Gregory Maguire's stuff (Wicked, The Ugly Stepsister). It doesn't create a whole new world, it more fleshes out the existing world of the fairy tale.

The thing I liked the best was that Beauty is the character's name, but not a descriptor. She's short, plain, and tomboyish, especially compared to her willowy sisters. She's rough around the edges and is more interested in her gigantic horse than she is in meeting. She and the Beast were both Beasts, in a way, both having to overcome the beastliness in each other to fall in love

(SPOILER)! Until the end, when it turns out she was beautiful all along, she just didn't realize. Silly girl. And the Beast was in love with her from the beginning, before he knew her, because she was so beautiful. If you couldn't tell, I did not like this plot twist.

I have a funny relationship with beauty. Like most people, there are days when I feel like nothing is going right with my face and hair, and there are days when I feel quite lovely. There are days when I start off confident and striding down the street like I'm on a catwalk and I end up wanting to curl up into a little ball. Once I was telling a friend that I would rather someone like me for my intelligence rather than how I look, and he said, "But you're basically born with your intelligence, too. So you're just exchanging something genetic that you can't control for something ELSE that's genetic that you can't control."

To which I said, "Shut up, Friend'sName."

There's a lot that could be said about the nature of beauty. More than I have the brain power to think about now. But Angela Chase (main character in my all time favorite show, My So Called Life) sums it up nicely:

Sometimes it seems like we're all living in some kind of prison. And the crime is how much we hate ourselves. It's good to get really dressed up once in a while. And admit the truth: that when you really look closely? People are so strange and so complicated that they're actually... beautiful. Possibly even me.

In the bleak Midwinter

2011-02-07T11:01:00.002-05:00

I've been in Chicago for the past week, at a pastor's conference and then vay to the cationing at a friend's. Yes, I was here for the BLIZZARD TO END ALL BLIZZARDS! I left the hotel for dinner Monday night and then did not breathe fresh air again until Friday afternoon. On Friday afternoon I ventured to my friend's house and saw first hand the havoc the blizzard hath wrought. As a Bostonian who has lived through at least 4 significant snowstorms (5?) since Christmas, I was not impressed with the unplowed streets and the snowy sidewalks. I smiled wryly at the lawn chairs and cardboard boxes holding people's shoveled- out- spots. 'Mayor Menino would kick your butt for those offenses!' I said to myself.

Oh the conference? It was good. The best part for me is always sitting around late at night hashing out theology and ministry with friends. It makes me nostalgic for my time in seminary, when we would have those conversations everywhere, around the dining room table, over coffee in the seminary lounge, in the basement kitchen, in the computer lab. Every block had a classmate or a colleague or a professor. I knew at the time it was a temporary community, that in time we would be all over the country in our own ministry settings, but this annual conference brings me back.

I also went to two excellent seminars and the morning session speaker was very good. Here are some of my favorite quotes:

From John Perkins, Monday night:
"God loves us. Conversion is our attempt to love God back."

"The darker the night, the brighter the light"

From Al Tizon, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday morning:
"I believe in evangelism despite evangelism."

"If we want people to believe the words we say, nothing gives us more credibility than advocating for the poor."

"Justice is what love looks like in public" --Al quoting Cornel West

From Jay Phelan, in a seminar on eschatology:
"The church is the taste on the tongue of the kingdom of God."

"[The church] has gone from a community representing God's promises, to a group of individuals experiencing God's presence"

From Michelle Clifton-Soderstrom and Doug Wysockey-Johnson, in a seminar on moving from consumerism to stewardship (doing more with less)

"God comes to us disguised as our lives." -quoting Richard Rohr (I'm still unpacking this one)

Finally, on Thursday night, there was a forum, not affiliated with the conference or the with the denomination. In this forum, three pastors from the denomination shared their stories, two of being parents of gay sons, and one gay himself. The conversation of the church's relationship with the GLBT community, in our denomination at least, has not been very public or open, and it was painful to hear the stories of people who felt shut out because of their sexual orientation, or their child's sexual orientation. It wasn't a theological forum, it was a listening forum, a story forum, because while we can argue theological points, we can't argue with people's stories or experiences or feelings. My denomination is wonderful in many ways (having an annual conference to refresh and renew pastors is one of those ways), but learning how to dialogue well about homosexuality, without fear or division, is a growing edge for us. This forum was a good start.

dream on, jenny from the block

2011-01-20T12:56:00.003-05:00

I love American Idol.

I said it.

I was so excited that it was on last night, and I couldn't wait to go over my parent's house to watch the DVR-ed version this morning. I'll say something else that might be unpopular. I'm glad that Simon Cowell is gone. I'm glad the whole judging panel is starting afresh (except for Randy) with people who have not developed personas like "the mean one" or "the nice one" or "the drunk one."

Simon Cowell was mean, and mean people make me tired. This new judging panel (Randy, Steven Tyler of Aerosmith, and Jennifer Lopez, for those who aren't following along breathlessly) said no to people, but didn't tell them that they sounded like dying cats or singers on a cruise ship that's sinking. They also didn't seem like they were all seething with rage under the surface. The only trace of the former meanness was when Randy would laugh at the people who were bad.

I know some people like the meanness. I know some people only watch the auditions because they like seeing people who can't sing get made fun of. I'm sorry for those people (not really), but I am much happier now.

Of course, it was just the first episode. The rage may still come. There may be annoying quirks. Steven Tyler was displaying a few signs of creepiness as they showed a montage of PYTs talking about how much they loved him. But as someone who stopped watching Idol last year midway through (something I had NEVER done before) because I just didn't care, I'm excited because this time around has a good feel. I think the show might have pulled back from the edge. I'm looking forward to it, not in an ironic, detached, watching it to mock it because I'm above it sort of way, but in an ACTUAL, legitimate, fangirl-squealing sort of way.

Singers I liked:

This guy, even though he flubbed it a little in the middle and he kind of sounded Bobcat Goldthwaite (am I alone in thinking that?). Loved that S. Ty got excited about the song and joined in.

This girl because she's interesting (although "God Bless the Child" is a song Idol should not let people sing anymore, along with "Somewhere over the Rainbow" and "Hallelujah" -- PLEASE DON'T ANYONE EVER SING "HALLELUJAH" EVER AGAIN...ahem), but she did some fun things with it:

And this girl, because she's young but didn't seem over-rehearsed, but can sing like a beast:

xooting along

2011-01-14T11:00:00.003-05:00

The way my budget works I have a little money every month to store up for a big purchase or to spend frivolously on a lot of little stuff. There are two purchases that I'd like to make sooner rather than later: getting my hair cut, and a car radio.

Let me tell you about my car radio. 3 years ago, when I bought the car, one of my only stipulations was that it needed a CD player. So much so that when I test drove the car, I noticed the CD player and not the fact that the car didn't have automatic windows or locks*

*Haters, you can laugh all you want, but I locked myself out of my previous car more often than I could count. Doesn't happen anymore. Also, if I get submerged in a lake, it's easier to get out with rolly windows. ALSO, the universal sign for lowering your car window is still a pantomine of rolling. So, I win at life.

About two weeks ago, I was listening to NPR, and all of a sudden my radio started making alien noises. Like, weird high pitched screeching. I tried different channels, and all that did was leave the radio finally stuck on KISS 108, the local pop station. So if it's not playing alien noises, it's playing Katy Perry. Which is not the worst thing in the world, but I miss NPR and my daily dose of how the economy is still terrible. The CD that I had been listening to (a bunch of stories from t

he Moth Podcast) will still play, but I can't switch tracks or eject it. The stories are good, but not that good. POINT: I am usually in the car in silence now.

And I need a haircut because I hate it when my hair gets long and I have to keep pulling it out of my collar.

BUT, once those two things are paid for, I think I am going to save up and get this:

So cool, right!? My friend Dubie has one and uses it all over NYC. It's bigger and more stable than a Razor, and you can fold it up and carry it with you. Awesome.

I have a bike, but the bike makes me nervous in a way that this doesn't really. Maybe because I can always just jump off it, and I can ride it on the sidewalk, and not on the street where crazy Boston drivers will run me over.

I figure it'll be too cold to get this before March, so I have a little time to save. But aren't you so excited to see me scooting (or xooting) along?? Of course you are.

a story of violent faith

2011-01-14T10:51:00.007-05:00

1 down, 24 more to go

I started Under the Banner of Heaven a while ago, but I just finished it.

I LOVE Jon Krakauer. I couldn't put down either Into Thin Air, or Into the Wild (although I always wondered why the titles were so similar -- as a word-person, that kind of annoyed me. Is that weird?). I read those books and part of me wanted to chuck my worldly belongings and hike into nature. Luckily I can appease that part of me by going for a nice walk through my neighborhood instead.

For some reason, I couldn't quite get into Under the Banner of Heaven. The main story, which looks at the murder of a young woman, Brenda Lafferty, and her infant daughter at the hands of her two brothers-in-law, Mormon fundamentalists, is interesting enough, but the history of the Mormon faith gets a little long and convoluted (kind of like this sentence).

One note of interest. It's clear throughout the book that Krakauer doesn't think a lot of organized religion, but he says something really beautiful at the end, in reference to his own agnosticism To quote,

And if I remain in the dark about our purpose here, and the meaning of eternity, I have nevertheless arrived at an understanding of a few more modest truths: Most of us fear death. Most of us yearn to comprehend how we got here, and why -- which is to say most of us ache to know the love of our creator. And we will no doubt feel that ache, most of us, for as long as we happen to be alive.

I'm not an agnostic, I'm a Christian pastor, but I agree with him here. Where we might differ is whether or not that ache will ever be satisfied in a meaningful way. I long to feel the love of my creator. Do I feel it all day, every day? No. Have I felt it before, powerfully? Most definitely. See the post below on the Sunday after Besher's death. My heart felt like it was torn but I also have never felt so strongly like I was being held, not just by the people around me, but by the love of my creator.

At the end of the book, I wondered what inspired Krakauer to write it. Was it these modest truths? What it the ache to know the love of the creator? Was it curiosity? Krakauer says he grew up with Saints and was simultaneously envious and baffled by their certainty of faith -- the book feels like a response to that envy and bafflement.

Bottom line: The history got dull, but I enjoyed the rare moments when Krakauer's heart came through. C.

Obligatory New Year's Post, Pt. 3 (Looking Forward)

2011-01-04T12:04:00.002-05:00

What do you want more of in the year ahead and what do you want less of?
More productivity and less lazy internet dawdling. I'm not counting blog posting as lazy internet dawdling. I'm counting that as writing.

What resolution for the new year do you think someone else would write for you?
Most people would tell me to rest more, that I work too hard, but they don't know about all my lazy internet dawdling.

What resolution for the new year would you want to write for yourself?

Write more. I have not written a poem in a year. That makes me pretty sad and grumpy with myself.

Read more. I don't know if I'm up to a 50 book challenge, but I'm up for a 25 book challenge. For January:Under the Banner of Heaven, and After You Believe.

Learn enough of the guitar to play songs at Brighter City Summer Program this year.

That's what I'm going to start with. There are lots more resolutions I could make but the more I make the less I will keep. So we'll start with that, and maybe in 3 months I can tell you if I'm ready for more. Thanks for listening. One more try, blog world.

Obligatory New Year's Post, Pt. 2 (Dig a Little Deeper)

2011-01-04T12:03:00.002-05:00

All but one of these questions deal with something profound that happened in August -- for the second time, I lost a young person in my youth ministry. This time, it was a young man who had been very faithful to our group, a quiet, laid back guy who didn't go looking for trouble. I was profoundly affected by his death.

What relationships meant a lot to you this year?
Since B's death, the conversations I've had with a lot of my young people have had a gravity to them that didn't exist before. I have appreciated the deepening of our relationships, even if it came from a terrible situation.

What was your happiest memory?

This is recent too -- a few weeks ago my dad had a medical emergency and was in critical care. When my sister and I left him on Friday night he was intubated, ventilated, and sedated. My happiest memory is coming back on Saturday and seeing him sitting up, talking up a storm (if you know my dad, you know that talking up a storm is one of his specialties), and getting ready to down a dinner of clear broth and Jello.

What was your saddest memory?
B's death. See above. A couple months later at a pastor's retreat, I had a dream that I was at an unknown kid's basketball game waiting for him to come out of the locker room, and B came out instead. He gave me a big hug and had a big smile on his face. In the dream, I hugged him and cried.

What moment did you feel close to God?
Here's a piece of a sermon that answers this question. I was preaching from Mark 1:9-15, about Jesus being baptized and hearing God's affirmations, and then immediately being driven into the desert to be tempted. This is what I wrote:

This summer has been for me a profound example of this text. I had a wonderful experience at our summer program, Brighter City. It was at times frustrating, as my assistant director can tell you, but there were so many opportunities to glimpse the goodness and pleasure of God that I was almost overwhelmed. The young people who had been campers themselves now serving as counselors, and doing a really good job. The morning prayer time where children and adults shared moments where they saw God at work. One boy said that his counselor, was the smartest man in the whole world. Another said that the cross necklace he made in art helped him to feel safer. I was on such a high after Brighter City.
But not two weeks later a young man from our youth ministry violently lost his life. There was so much I didn't understand about B's death. There were no words I could think of to say to his friends or his family that would comfort them, there were no words I could think to tell myself to comfort me. Even though I knew that it was useless, I thought over and over again about what I could have or should have done that would have prevented this. I regretted not calling him or texting him or talking to him since I had last seen him at our young adult group. But in all the anger and confusion, in all the tears, in all the hours on porches reminiscing, and all the moments where I felt for a second that he would just appear, at my office door or when I saw his friends gathered, I never felt alone. I had, and still have, a lot of questions about why something like this happened, and why it happened to someone like B, who was so laid back and calm, and kind, and God has not given me any easy answers. I was, and still am frustrated by the violence that is continuing to escalating in the city, and how overwhelmed I know many, including myself, feel trying to face it down, and God has not given me an easily packaged plan or program. But neither has God left my side. Neither has God left me empty. God has stayed, with me in the anger, in the questioning, in the confusion, in the frustration, in the pain.
I first found out about B's death at 4:30 in the morning, the morning of our wonderful baptismal service at Houghton's pond. I hadn't been able to go back to sleep, or eat very much at all, and so when I arrived at Houghton's pond, I was exhausted, and hungry, the shock barely wearing off, only beginning to be able to cry. I was in a wilderness place. But I did not feel alone. I felt tended to by angels. In the service we sang, “Hallelujah what a savior, hallelujah what a friend, saving, helping, keeping, loving, he is with me to the end.” Even in the middle of all that fresh, raw, grief, I believed those words. I felt loved, helped, kept, the presence of my friend and Savior with me.
Not everyone knows what to do in the midst of sorrow and pain. Some people get nervous around it. Some people hide from it. Some want to distract from it. Some want to pat us on the back a few times and then say, “All right, that's enough now.” I'm sure we have all had occasions of sadness and had friends or family who avoided the situation until it seemed to be better. Jesus is not that kind of friend. Our God wades into the water with us, sinful and dirty as we are, our God sits with us and tends to us in the wilderness, even when we are utterly abandoned by everyone else, and our God gives us glimpses of the glory of the world that will be without sin or dirt or wilderness to carry us through.

And now time to look forward...

Obligatory New Year's Post Pt. 1

2011-01-04T11:00:00.005-05:00

My young adult group did some reflecting on the new year, thought I'd share some questions we looked at. This is spread out over three posts to make it seem like you have less to read.

What was one of the best movies you saw this year?

Oh boy -- Harry Potter 7 was pretty great.

Where the Wild Things Are, an honest picture of how hard it can be to be a child and not in control

Precious, which was heartbreaking and hopeful all at once...loved the colorful scenes of Precious' inner world.

ALSO (I'm not good at whittling my answers down to one) Camp Out is an absolutely essential movie for any youth pastor to see -- an honest, respectful picture of young people of faith from the GLBT community.

What was one of the best books you read this year?

Loved Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer.

Also Home, Marilynne Robinson. If you've never read Marilynne Robinson, step away from the computer now and read Gilead. Then come back and finish this post. I'm serious.

What did you do this year that you’d never done before?

I did a baptism. A few actually. Loved being a part of that moment of grace -- someone entering into a commitment with God and God responding.

Preached for 30 minutes. Usually, I am a 15-18 minute girl. Get started, get to the point, get out. But then I preached at a church that wasn't the norm -- and I had to push myself. Was a good thing, in the end.

Ate a fish eyeball. Gross.

Celebrated St. Mel's day -- a day for single people :) St. Mel is known for producing a fish out of the ground to prove that his relationship with his aunt was not scandalous. Once a magician in my grandmother's apt complex made a fish appear on my head. That doesn't have anything to do with anything but I think it's a funny story.

Reread the Harry Potter series. Thoroughly enjoyed them the first time, and am now reading them out loud to my dad and re-enjoying them. Noticing new things, like what jerks Harry and Ron were to Hermione in book 3 and how immature Sirius is.

Got stuck in Paris because of a cloud of volcanic ash. Or, got stuck in Paris, period. In this one is a lot of firsts: saw the Mona Lisa and the Eiffel Tower. Ate an authentic croissant. Ate an authentic crepe. Was almost tempted to stay in Paris to eat more.

Went to the Northernmost point in Scotland, Port Ness of the Isle of Lewis. Beautiful in it's desolation. In the same vein...

Visited the oldest structure I've ever seen. The Callanish standing stones, 5000 years old.

Other Scottish firsts: Ate haggis. 3 times. Tried that coffee that is made from beans that cats poop out. Drank coffee in the shop where JK Rowling wrote Harry Potter. Stayed in international hostels (2 in Scotland and 1 in Paris). Had a Cadbury Creme Egg McFlurry

Had someone throw a dinner plate through my rear windshield.

Was a puppet captain at First Night in Boston

Coached a basketball game. That was an experience. I don't remember a lot about basketball.

Painted my face and neck blue. Smurfette for Halloween. AWWWWEEEESSSOOOMMMME.

Watched the LOST season finale. Oh, LOST. We were so close in the beginning. Then we almost parted ways because you were focussed on silly things like Nikki and Paulo and Jack's tattoos. Then you wooed me back with Sawyer and Juliet and time travelling and Hurley becoming a hero. Then it ended, and even though others were mad at you, I appreciated how you ended things. But I liked the epilouge to Deathly Hallows, too, so what do I know.

Hugged and took a picture of a famous person. Well, famous to me, anyway. Russell Ferguson from So You Think You can Dance! Here's the story (from my facebook acct): So this is the story. I was out to breakfast with two young adults I know and their baby, M. This dude comes in and I think he looks familiar. "Do you think he came to youth group before?" K asks. But then I say, "No, he looks like Russell from SYTYCD." I didn't think it was him. But then these other guys ask him and he says he IS. Holy cow, now I'm excited. At this point, he's packing up to leave, I'm holding M, the baby seat's next to me. "Take the baby," I say, shoving poor M back to her mom. "Are you Russell from SYTYCD?" I ask, and he says yes. Then I start blabbing like an IDIOT about ever since he krumped at his first audition I loved him, he's so great, Afro Jazz, contemporary, blah blah blah. I ask for a picture and throw the baby seat on the floor so I can get out and take one. The whole restaurant is staring at me. We take a picture, and the women behind me are like, "Who are you?" Russell says, "No one special." The woman says, "You must be someone with her over here gushing." So I say "Did you ever watch SYTYCD? He WON." So then they gush. And then he left. But not before giving me a big hug :)

That's it for new things I think.

Stay tuned for part 2!

one more try

2011-01-04T10:52:00.002-05:00

So my friend posted on her blog an EZ New Years Resolution creater. Even though I said if I was lazy again I was going to give this blogging stuff up, when I went to that site the first resolution that popped up for me was "update your blog." I decided it was a sign, so here I am.

Imagine I am singing this song to my blog, except I don't kiss my blog:

zuppa toscana and boo! (scary)

2009-10-16T20:14:00.006-04:00

So, I'm sure you are all dying to know what happened to the kale.

I bought some kielbasa, some cream, and some bacon and made zuppa toscana, which took me 45 minutes and used approximately 6 pieces of kale. So, there were many pieces of unused kale, which I...did not cook. I gave them away. That's right, I gave up on the kale. Judge me.

In other news! I am now in the throes of deciding on a Halloween costume. As some may know, I pride myself in my Halloween costumes (see last two years below). This year I was thinking of Indiana Jones but I think such a costume requires too many additional items. I have: khaki pants, brown belt, swagger. I would need: leather jacket, a button down shirt, adventurer's hat, dirty knapsack, whip. That's a lot of purchasing. Any other good ideas out there?

I have been:

a superhero (NOT wonder woman -- just a generic saver of lives)

a crayon (green)

an angel (picture of which I have somewhere in my apartment and have to scan/post)

biker Pooh (picture of which I hope someone has somewhere, this was one of my favorites)

so I have a lot to live up to. what can I be?

adventures in vegetables

2009-10-07T10:36:00.003-04:00

so I'm attempting the CSA (community supported agriculture) vegetable box thing. a friend from church pointed me towards a CSA that sells single shares, so I signed up for one and for 1/2 dozen eggs.

the problem is, they are pretty ambitious about what they think one person can eat as far as vegetables goes in a single week.

last week, I got bok choy. which I have never even seen in its raw form. in fact, when I saw the bok choy at my aforementioned friend's house, I thought it was a leek. so I figured out a dish, made some "Bacon-y Bok Choy" (thanks Allrecipes.com!), which was enough at least three meals. I also made homefries for breakfast one morning. but everytime I ate some place else (restaurant, at church), I felt guilty, thinking of all the vegetables slowly rotting in my fridge.

the point is that out of the box last week, I ended up only eating the bok choy, half of a pepper, and three mini potatoes. I was therefore left with 6 mini potatoes, the other half of the pepper, two winter squash, two cucumbers, lettuce and arugula. I have all that and yesterday I picked up a whole new box!

I think the ultimate result of this is going to be me not eating out as much. people are going to invite me out to eat and I'm going to be like, "what about the kale, man? WHAT ABOUT THE KALE??"

let's not fail again, mmmmkay?

2009-10-07T10:33:00.003-04:00

ok, so I have been bad.

we're going to try this one more time. if I get lazy again, I'm giving up forever. but if I stick with it and get prolific, someone has to mail me some cookies. that's the deal.

no words from me necessary

2009-01-19T22:18:00.001-05:00

Letter to a Birmingham Jail

2009-01-19T11:12:00.001-05:00

Here is the end of my sermon yesterday:

Martin Luther King Jr once wrote from jail a scathing letter to his fellow pastors, whose behavior was not being regulated by their love for God but rather by their fear of going against society. In his letter, he says this:

There was a time when the church was very powerful--in the time when the early Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Whenever the early Christians entered a town, the people in power became disturbed and immediately sought to convict the Christians for being "disturbers of the peace" and "outside agitators."' But the Christians pressed on, in the conviction that they were "a colony of heaven," called to obey God rather than [people]. Small in number, they were big in commitment. They were too God-intoxicated to be "astronomically intimidated." By their effort and example they brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contests.

Things are different now. So often the contemporary church is a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. So often it is an archdefender of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church's silent--and often even vocal--sanction of things as they are.

... If today's church does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century. Every day I meet young people whose disappointment with the church has turned into outright disgust.

These words were written almost 50 years ago, but they still have resonance today. Whether its the battle against racism, poverty, or greed, whether its speaking out about how God wants us to use our minds, our money or our bodies, we as Christians and as the church, are made to obey God and not people, to speak with power and conviction about who we are, who we belong to, and what we are made for. Are we silently sanctioning the abuse of the freedom we are granted in Christ? Are we a weak, ineffectual voice, a social club, intimidated, not wanting to ruffle feathers or make waves or be different? Instead, let us be God- intoxicated, proclaiming with strong voices that we are God's people, saved and redeemed and freed by Christ's work on the cross, living a different and more abundant kind of life out of that freedom, for the good of our neighbor and for the glory of God.

currently...

2009-01-05T15:07:00.004-05:00

...finished reading: A Mercy, by Toni Morrison. Toni Morrison is not Danielle Steel -- fans have to wait a long time in between books, but each book is so carefully woven, it's worth it. A Mercy is no exception. Short, but tight, well researched, well told; the story of a slave girl and the strange little community she lives in, a household made up of orphans and slaves, mail order brides and indentured servants, each getting a chance to tell their piece of the story, ending in a way both resolved and unresolved. I really enjoyed the different perspectives, each time a new person told their story the reader understood a little bit more about it -- teaching us that to hear any whole story we have to try and look through many different sets of eyes.

reading: Mudhouse Sabbath, by Lauren winner. A Christmas gift to myself. She talks about how Jews do their faith better than Christians, how in their practices they increase their faith. A solid thesis, I'll let you know what I think when I'm done.

panning: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I get it. Broad, sweeping epic. Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett, both looking lovely. A fascinating premise. Beautiful cinematographic. Golden Globe nominated. But ultimately? empty. I loved the idea of the movie, especially as I get older and I watch my parents get older. what would it be like to take all the knowledge that comes with age and put it into a young body, able to really understand and appreciate all the experiences able-bodiedness affords? After reflecting on that concept, I am angry at the filmmakers and Brad Pitt that more wasn't done. In the end, I didn't care about Benjamin Button or Daisy, his love. I didn't know him, I didn't know who he was, I didn't know why his experiences were so powerful for him. I felt more connection with his surrogate mother, who was onscreen for about 20 minutes of the totally unnecessary three hours of this movie, than I did with the characters who were in almost every scene.

resolving: Just three: 1. Send real letters. 2. Read more. 3. Create more.

cooking: Butternut squash soup -- a MAY zing, probably because it was made with cream cheese (although it did not look as good as the soup pictured). Also chicken pot pie, slightly less successful, but once you took the burnt parts off, serviceable. I decided to try and cook with the seasons, then on researching found out that Massachusetts has NO seasonal food between November and May. So, so much for that goal. At least until April.

biblioburro

2008-10-20T08:26:00.001-04:00

love this.

The Atlas of the Real World

2008-10-02T16:52:00.003-04:00

"The Atlas of the Real World uses software to depict the nations of the world, not by their physical size, but by their demographic importance on a range of subjects. Here, we select a series of travel- and news-related maps."

Apparently this is coming out as a book on Oct. 6, but the maps in this article are amazing -- some interesting (aircraft travel vs. rail travel), some thought-provoking [wealth in the years 1, 1900, and 2015 (projected)], some poignant (HIV/AIDS distribution).

Check it out.

customer service is a beautiful thing

2008-09-24T18:51:00.004-04:00

Super Helpful Store Assistant One: AC Moore, can I help you?
Me: I'm looking for some self-hardening clay.
SHSAO: Yeah, we have that.
Me: What brands? (because I want to search them online to figure out which will have the consistency I want)
SHSAO: We have Nicole, Sculptee and DAS.
Me: What sizes and at what price?
SHSAO: I don't know, I'll have to give you to someone on the floor. Hold on.

No pleasant hold music. Some weird beeping noises.

Super Helpful Sales Associate Two: Hi, can I help you?
Me: I'm looking for self-hardening clay.
SHSAT: We have that.
Me: OK.
SHSAT: ...
Me: Can you tell me what sizes you have and how much they are?
SHSAT: OK, hold on.

Weird beeping noises.

SHSAT: We have a big size and a smaller size.
Me: A big size and a smaller size?
SHSAT: Yeah, one is big and one is a little bit smaller.
Me: What are their weights?
SHSAT: I don't know, hold on.

More weird beeping.

SHSAO: Hello, ma'am?
Me: Yes. I'm looking for self-hardening clay
SHSAO: I know, I'm the first person you talked to.
Me: OK
SHSAO: 56 grams.
Me: 56 grams is the weight of the clay?
SHSAO: Yeah.
Me: What's the price?
SHSAO: I don't know, she just gave me the phone and told me to tell you 56 grams.
Me: Can you find the price for me?
SHSAO: OK. Hold on, I'll walk over there.

SHSAO: Which brand?
Me: All of them?
SHSAO: Well, do you have 3 years to listen, because there's a lot of brands.
Me: OK, then, what's the biggest size you have?
SHSAO: 5 lbs for $13.50
Me: and what's that brand?
SHSAO: Something Mexican, Mexican something. I don't think it's well known, I'm pretty sure it's a discount brand. (the brand he's talking about is actually AMACO, which is very well known...they sell a Mexican style clay. I have the feeling he walked away from the aisle again at this point)
Me: Do you know if it feels like regular clay you would use to make pottery?
SHSAO: Yeah, when it dries, it feels more like pottery than clay.
Me: ...
SHSAO: ...
Me: OK! Thank you.
SHSAO: Bye.

bugging OUT

2008-04-24T07:45:00.005-04:00

I woke up to the sound of buzzing this morning (about 5 minutes ago) really LOUD buzzing. And as it turns out the really loud buzzing was coming from a really BIG bug that is now hanging out on my window sill. I don't know where the bug came from -- I had my back door open last night but there's a screen and no hole big enough for a bug of her enormity to fly through.

Anyway, now she's hanging out on the sill -- I opened the door and the screen and tried to startle her, but neither the pillow nor the flip flop thrown at the bug seemed to fluster her. Do I try to kill her? I'm too scared to get close. But I don't want to leave either, because what if she hides somewhere? And I get home and sit on her? Last summer I knelt on a bee, and that went bad places. Who knows what kind of bug THIS bug is? Who knows what she's capable of?

ETA: Well, I screwed up my courage, gave her a little push with my pillow, and she's out. Also, I am pretty sure it was a bumble bee.

I like this

2008-04-23T20:46:00.001-04:00

2008-03-31T12:25:00.002-04:00

Museumofhoaxes.com has a list of the top 100 April Fool's Day Hoaxes of all time. I got tired after #20, but this one is my favorite:

#5: San Serriffe
image In 1977 the British newspaper The Guardian published a special seven-page supplement devoted to San Serriffe, a small republic located in the Indian Ocean consisting of several semi-colon-shaped islands. A series of articles affectionately described the geography and culture of this obscure nation. Its two main islands were named Upper Caisse and Lower Caisse. Its capital was Bodoni, and its leader was General Pica. The Guardian's phones rang all day as readers sought more information about the idyllic holiday spot. Few noticed that everything about the island was named after printer's terminology. The success of this hoax is widely credited with launching the enthusiasm for April Foolery that gripped the British tabloids in subsequent decades.

till now, I always got by on my own

2008-03-28T08:04:00.005-04:00

It should come as no surprise that I'm an American Idol fan. Not one of those "I only watch the audition phase," because I realized I don't really like watching the auditions anymore. No, I like the weekly grind, the 1.5 minute snippets of 80s songs or Latin songs, or big band songs. I like the little interviews when we see the performers as little babies. I even like the group sing (yeah, I said it.)

And I am one of those people who can say that American Idol has introduced me to new songs. Last year, I heard "Feeling Good," by Nina Simone, for the first time by cute little AJ Tablado with his cute little popped up collar, and now I love that song. During Idol Gives Back, Kelly Clarkson sang "Up to the Mountain (MLK Song)," by Patty Griffith, which I had never heard before but now ranks in my all time favorites.

This week, Ramiele Malubay (who I think should be gone because she's boring and she talks baby talk and I still can't believe my darling Chikeze left. Moment of silence for my Chikeze please.) sang "Alone" by Heart, which I should have heard because Carrie Underwood sang it in her season. Maybe it didn't make that much of an impression, because this week, when I heard it for the first time, I felt the thrill of a new obsession! I love me some heartfelt, angst-ridden, agonizing, unrequited love, and that's this song.

But now I need an opinion. Everyone says this is one of Carrie Underwood's greatest songs, but really, I don't think she does it justice. It's like she doesn't even know what it's about. She stares into the camera with eyes that say "when will this be done so I can sing country again?" Carrie does not want to get me alone! Nothing's chilling her to the bone!

Gina Glocksen, who I supported way back when, apparently also sang it, which I discovered as I was youtubing the song (because I LOVE IT -- was that made clear?), and to me, even though her power notes were rough, she really seemed to embody the song better.

Which do you like better?

or

I can't help but also be moved by cute little AJ Tablado's dancing and singing at the :48 mark.

And of course, if you're not sick of it: the original (this is a recent live recording -- the actual 80s video kind of scared me a little):

this is what i have to say about sex

2008-03-26T11:13:00.004-04:00

I just finished Real Sex: The Naked Truth about Chastity, by Lauren Winner, who is one of my new favorite authors, mostly because she's kind of a nerdy theologian, and so am I. On the whole, I liked it a lot, mostly because as a youth pastor who has to talk to teenagers about sex in the context of Christianity, I like the way Lauren Winner does it more than anyone else I've ever read.

Case in point: a few months ago I was perusing a Christian bookstore to try and find some books to use with my high schoolers. I came across a book called Technical Virgin: How Far is too Far? by Haylie DiMarco. DiMarco's book represents everything I hate about most Christian books on sex geared toward teenagers (or sex in general). I didn't read all of it, and I didn't buy it, but I did stand in the bookstore for a long period of time looking through it. Geared toward teenage girls, a lot of the book talks about how evil teenage boys are, how all they want from relationships is physical satisfaction, how if you let them tickle you or if you sit in your room alone with them they are assuming sex is the inevitable next step and they'll be pissed off if you don't deliver. Not only will they be pissed off, but so will God. As she says (I texted this sentence to myself so I wouldn't forget it): "if you allow a boy to use you for sexual satisfaction you are leading him down a path of destruction and God is blaming you."

There are so many things wrong with that sentence, I am not sure where to start. First, it's assuming that the girl is getting no sexual satisfaction out of the deal*, second, it perpetuates the centuries-old stereotype that men are helpless beings forced to act on their sexual impulses if a woman encourages them in the slightest, and third, it paints a very scary (an untruthful) picture of God.

*This hits on another one of her scary themes, which is, as she puts it: "sex = depression" THAT'S a real positive way to make girls feel good about their bodies. Plus, while it may be true for some, it's definitely not true for everyone.

I like Lauren Winner's handling of the subject for most of the reasons I dislike DiMarco's. Winner talks about sex in the wider context of Scripture, starting in Genesis, and affirms us all as good, bodily, sexual creations. She addresses lies that the church tells (for instance, that premarital sex will make you feel bad, ahem, DIMARCO), and the lies the world tells (for instance, all sex is fabulous, movie-style sex). She talks about how a lot of Christians just want to know: What can I do? How far can I go? (see DiMarco's title) but says that's the wrong question to ask. The concept of chastity, she says, is not determining a firm list of rules and boundaries, but it is, as she puts it "doing sex in the body of Christ." This statement, I think, gives a pretty good idea of the general tone of her book.

She's not enough of a feminist as I would want her to be, and she doesn't deal with Scripture as much as I would like (her second chapter is on Scriptural basis for sex to be kept in a marital context, but the actual Scriptural support is, in my opinion, pretty scanty), but on the whole I like her candid, frank, fresh approach to the subject. She doesn't veer too far from the Orthodox teachings, but she teaches in a way that is much more accessible and realistic. She doesn't want Christians to be afraid of sex. Which is, you know, a good thing.

In sum, if this is a topic you are looking to read something on, do not read this:

read this:

happily ever after

2008-03-24T14:55:00.005-04:00

The tough call: whether or not to watch a romantic comedy after spending 1/2 an hour grousing with a friend about the prospect of being single forever, brought on by the ever-nearing 30th birthdays.

The decision: We went for it.

The movie: Jane Austen Book Club

Pros: about Jane Austen, duh.

Quite a bit of the book club's activity was shown, i.e., discussions on Austen's novels, and I heartily joined in from my seat on the couch. Double pro: they did not totally diss Fanny Price, heroine of Mansfield Park. I have a soft spot for Fanny, and I was pleased to see some of the women sticking up for her moral fortitude, and EVEN disparaging the movie for not being true to Fanny's character. Which of course, it wasn't.

Hugh Dancy. If there is not a more fitting name for a charming Englishman, I don't know what it is. He is totally adorable in this movie. And it was comforting that even a standoffish, 40 year old (Maria Bello) who makes strange hair choices can still be relentlessly pursued by such a pretty young thing as Dancy.

(that last sentence was a little sarcastic)

I like movies about women's friendships -- especially if it goes beyond the typical, Sex and The City, we're friends because we talk about our love lives type of friends.

Cons: The ending (SPOILER!) was far too neatly tied up. If this was a poke at Austen's novels, well, even then it wasn't as good, because while her novels seemed to tie up neatly, a lot of times there was still a sort of unhappy uncertainty for some (usually minor characters) -- Lydia and Charlotte Lucas in Pride and Prejudice, for example. With some of the couples, the turn around was too rushed, and didn't feel earned. And poor Maggie Grace -- the one lesbian is alone at the end.

In my current line of work, any hint of teacher-student affair (even if the student is of age) makes me feel like puking. This sub plot was no exception.

It was pretty obvious that the viewer were supposed to draw connections between the plots of the books and the plots in the movie, but usually that felt either too heavy handed or too obscure.

The verdict: Cute enough. Worth a sit through. But maybe not the right call for that particular evening. Maybe better to watch with your own Hugh Dancy, whatever form he or she might take, whenever you (or I) get one.

I cut my hair

2008-02-12T11:57:00.000-05:00

The bottom one is the one right after the salon visit, so that's why the hair looks so sleek. The top one is all my own stylin' skillz.

vote early, vote often

2008-02-06T11:14:00.000-05:00

I think I feel like I blog more than I do. Just checked and I guess I don't. Sorry!

So, yesterday I worked the polls. The best story I heard all day was from a woman I was working with who told us how the governor had voted and had tried to shove his privacy shield (a cardboard folder to hide your ballot while you check out) into the scanner along with his ballot. Whoops!

Some other observations, based on my experience with my one small precinct:

*There are not many Republicans floating around, and many of them like to tease you: "The only one in Massachusetts!" "There are a few of us!"

*Lots of parents bring their kids, even their teenagers, which I think is neat. I remember back in the day going with my mom when it was the huge machine where you turned down the levers. Some people bring their dogs (one couple came separately, but each bringing the same dog, so of course there were plenty of jokes, i.e., "He's only allowed one vote!")

(ed. note: I am spelling everything wrong today. I spelled governor governer, observations obversations, and levers leavers. GAH).
*There was, indeed, very high turnout. The warden were I was, who has been working elections for 8 years, said that she estimated between 900-1000 voters in our precinct, and over 750 turned out. She said that on smaller, city elections, less than 200 show up. I don't think I would like to work those elections...

*It is very cold at 6AM in a college gym with no lights or heat.

I've been cryin' since I met you...

2008-01-08T19:00:00.000-05:00

Maybe I don't get it. Maybe someone should explain it to me.

Why do people care so much that Hillary Clinton cried? And she didn't even cry! She just got a wavery voice. I'm watching coverage of New Hampshire primaries and although I probably shouldn't be, I am totally flabbergasted by the amount of coverage Hillary's "emotional moment"is getting. It's almost MORE coverage than Britney Spears going into the hospital. Which...is ridiculous.

I will probably vote for Obama (a decision made a while ago), but when I first saw the "incident" on TV, I had a moment of thinking "Oh, that's kind of touching. It kind of makes me like her more. Aaaaand moving on."

All I am saying is, someone tell me what's going on.

things that may happen next year (if my mom is prophetic)

2008-01-03T22:24:00.000-05:00

So my mom had a dream that it was October 2008, and she was at my wedding. When she was telling me, I tried to be all casual and nonchalant while still probing for details, all "Oh, Mom (chuckle chuckle), you're so silly (chuckle chuckle). What was his name? What did he look like? Was he at least taller than me? ANSWERS, woman!"

Turns out, she didn't see him (only me, and I was wearing a plain, straight dress, "not one of those poofy ones"). The only thing she knows is that in th dream he was Swedish, and that's only because I was apparently going, "We're going to have Swedish babies!" and doing a fist pump.

as the new year dawns....

2008-01-02T09:41:00.000-05:00

I used the above line in a sermon once and got teased endlessly for it. I actually teased myself for it...
Anyway! shamelessly stealing from Rainster:

XTINA'S FIRSTS!! OF 2007.

Getting a masters. This was pretty significant (obviously). The actual graduation experience was just the end to a three year journey during which I grew into myself, as a woman, as a theologian, as a pastor...

(easy segue way) Becoming a pastor. This is still sort of surreal. I worked in ministry before, in fact most of my jobs have been in ministry, but the title of pastor gives a person the sort of authority I don't always feel ready/qualified for. It's not like a regular job, it's a job where people ask you to help them hold their pain, where people expect you to explain God to them. All that is... kind of scary. But kind of exhilarating at the same time.

Did a funeral. Case in point. The senior pastor at our church was away and I had to conduct the funeral for an elderly woman at my church. When the family left they said "Thank you, pastor." Heavy, heavy words.

Tried internet dating. On a lighter note! Craigslist, eharmony, match, crazyblinddate.com. None too successful, but each time I am a little bit better at not being a spastic mess. I can carry on a conversation and it has seemed more possible that I might meet someone who is interested in me for who I am.

Went to a Celtics game. Bonus! Big Papi was there.

Started and extinguished a grease fire. Trying to craft sides for a sideless baking sheet out of aluminum foil so you can cook bacon in the oven instead of on the burner does not work. But! baking soda does put out oven fires. But then you can't use your oven until you clean it. Which takes 3 months, if you're me.

Watched more TV via internet than actually on TV. This comes from having the internet and not having cable. Doing this also got me into watching international shows, like BBC's Robin Hood, Project Runway Canada, and Asian dramas (shut up.)

Lived by myself. This is amazing. I love love LOVE having my own space.

Drove (and continue to drive) a totaled car. Did you know you could do that? You can, because I do, everyday. For the past 3 months.

Visited LA. Liked Venice Beach (except for the scary muscle men). Seeing the enormous houses in Bel Air/Beverly Hills was interesting, but disheartening at the same time. Why does anyone need that?

Saw Alcatraz/ Learned about Native American occupation of Alcatraz. I can't believe I didn't know about it before... a great story, for more info see this page.

Met lots of babies These included 1. Torgo's Sequel, who liked me when his mom was around, but not so much when she left. Actually not at all when she left. There was much screaming. BUT, when smiling, Sequel is adorable. 2. Eddie K., child of previous roomates in college. Eddie and Sarah (the mom) stayed with me and ate my bananas. Also adorable. 3. Oskar G., child of seminary classmate. Oskar and I each thought the other was great. He was really easy to make laugh.

Watched (almost) every version of Jane Eyre. Blockbuster online at its best. Still would recommend the Zelah Clarke/Timothy Dalton version.

Visited Walden Pond. "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, to discover that I had not lived... I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and to be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion." -- Thoreau

Wrote a REEEEEAAAAALLLLLY long paper. Otherwise known as a thesis. Otherwise known as a year of my life, or 90 pages. Otherwise known as Ain't I a Mother?: A Theology of Motherhood informed by and Beneficial to Women in the Innercity. Otherwise known as a thing of which I am immensely proud.

Had my car towed by city officials. Dern street sweepers!

fun for me (possibly not for you)

2007-12-22T09:01:00.001-05:00

Google Image Search your answer
- pick one image from the first page
- and post

1. The age you will be on your next birthday

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2. A place you'd like to travel to

3. Your favorite place

This is "with friends," not cavorting in the snow. See previous post.

4. Your favorite object

5. Your favorite food

6. Your favorite animal

7. Your favorite color

8. The town in which you were born

9. The town in which you live

Same town, in case you were confused. The first is an awesome picture of Boston, isn't it?

10. The name of a past pet

I find it kind of hilarious that there is a Fritz the cat comic book, and our first pet was Fritz the cat. AND our Fritz looked like this. But our Fritz was a girl and never tried to rock a red blazer or pick up chicks.

11. The name of a past love

David Mcfadden, 3rd grade. I can imagine this is what he would look like if he was old and a poet.

12. What you wanted to be when you were little

This is a picture of a "lady archaeologist" (their designation, not mine). I looked up archaeologist then thought I should find a picture of a woman and this is what I got.

13. Your nickname/screen name

Kind of boring, but tinglypoet did not yield a lot of options. Neither did triggermarie, my other one.

14. Your first name

15. Your middle name

Don't know who this lady is, but her name is marie.

16. Your last name

These are both interesting, because the first is a picture of a group project that I did in seminary raising awareness about the lack of handicap accessibility in the seminary building. What's funny is that this picture came up because the caption says that the woman in the chair is me, which she is obviously not. She's Deborah Penny, for the record.

The second is interesting because this guy, O.G. Tinglof was not only an original gangster, but a pastor in a church in New Hampshire that was from the denomination my church sprung out of, The Swedish Evangelical Mission Church. I'm carrying the flame, O.G.!

17. A bad habit of yours

I am no lazier now than I was forty years ago, but that is because I reached the limit forty years ago. You can't go beyond possibility.
- Mark Twain in Eruption

18. Your first job

19. Your grandmother’s name

I had two grandmothers. This makes one look slightly more distinguished, but they were both on par.

20. Your major in college

pros and cons of living in boston in the second snowiest december EVER (or, why i'm glad i have slippers)

2007-12-21T08:52:00.001-05:00

UPDATE: people who come here from Google: if you want the REAL pros and cons of living in Boston, this post will not help you (sorry). Go here instead.

PROS:

It's pretty: yesterday when I was driving home all the soft and fluffy snow was still clinging to the branches -- lovely, like a winter wonderland (to be said with hands clasped by cheek, all romantically)

It brings neighbors together: people are all out, shoveling together. And for every mail truck guy that drives by and goes "Boy, you got a long way to go," there's a middle aged Brazilian lady who helps you clean off your car. And everyone has something to talk about.

It's cozy: It's fun to sit inside and drink tea and wrap presents (with your slippers on) when it's snowy outside...it feels like Christmas.

CONS:

Parking (or owning a car in general) makes me want to poke my eyes out. I had to park on the street in Chicago, but I never remember it being this bad. It's taken me a total of 3 hours to shovel my car out on various occasions, last night I realized why it's bad to leave your windshield wipers on when you get out of your car in a snowstorm (I don't think there's been so much snow in my car...well, ever.) Also, there are like half the parking spaces available because there are huge piles of snow and ice in the other ones.

This past Sunday, there was a snowstorm, and we canceled church! Well, we didn't cancel it, but nobody came!

People drive crazy in the snow! And park crazy (because they are desperate to find a space to park).

And it's pretty, BUT (big ol' but), it gets dirty and gross pretty quickly. Like, big piles of chunky, grungy ice, and big puddles of slush that you have to jump across. And people shovel their sidewalks, but nobody shovels ways INTO the sidewalk. So you have to scale the piles or slog through the slush. So your shoes and socks and such get soaked. BUT (big ol' but and a new pro) then you can wear your slippers. =)

best picture ever

2007-11-30T19:52:00.000-05:00

here.

the latest and greatest

2007-11-28T10:30:00.000-05:00

in theaters: Gone Baby Gone

LOVED it. It was a really honest view of Boston, the gritty, uncouth side of Boston, the place where the people who are poor and white live. Ben Affleck, who annoys me to no end on screen because, I don't know, he looks too polished or something, is GREAT behind the camera. He used a lot of locals to make the film more authentic, which worked so well that the bigger names, like Morgan Freeman and Ed Harris, actually pulled me out of the story. I don't want to give away too much, but I do want to say that Casey Affleck is great and a far cry from the dude that wanted to sit in the front seat in Good Will Hunting, and also, I don't ever want a private dectective boyfriend (which is what Affleck plays) because I thought Affleck was going to die about 7 different times in this movie and that would be too much for my frail little heart.

Also, one reviewer from the Boston Globe said that B. Affleck did a great job portraying class (which, I agree, phenomenal) but struggled a bit with race. The reviewer said that the great Boston movie will deal with race expertly, but no one will want to see it.

online: Project Runway Canada & Robin Hood BBC. I guess I'm not very patriotic these days.
on PRC:Canadians are just calmer than Americans it seems, and, don't tell Tim Gunn but I almost love this show better than the US version. Less drama, more sewing, and they even made dresses that were auctioned off to benefit AIDS relief in Africa.

on Robin Hood: Robin Hood is campy and cheesy and horribly inaccurate and purposely anachronistic and so predictable and cliche (like the weekly-Robin-and-Merry-band-sneak-into-the-castle-will-they-escape business, or the love triangle between the cocky and dashing Robin, the headstrong Marian, and the vile (but increasingly softhearted) henchman Guy of Gisbourne)...BUT I LOVE IT. I've come to the realization that I don't necessarily want intelligent TV, because usually it's just TV that tries to be intelligent and fails and drives me crazy (hello, LOST). I like a little cheeseball melodrama with a dash of humor. That makes me happy.

in life: Christmas music! and lights, the tackier the better. There's a guy in Jamaica Plain who put up 500,000 Christmas lights as well as a 650 lb crown this year, but mostly I really love driving down the street and passing a little row house all decked out with different size and color lights. I could think about wasted energy, wasted money, etc., but this time of year, especially, I prefer to think about people feeling cheered and ready for the season.

You know what this post has told me? especially the last two bits? I'm a sap. Might as well embrace it.

let's go red sox (clap clap clapclapclap)

2007-10-22T20:36:00.000-04:00

my parents took part in this Jordan's furniture promotion that will give them their mattress for free if the red sox make it all the way to the series.

on saturday night, my mom thought it was all over, and she was ready for her mattress...we had to tell her, "not yet, mom."

even though he didn't do much last night (i like to think he allowed the younguns to have some glory), i still love me some david ortiz. i found this video on youtube, and even though the interviewer's annoying, i am a sucker for a man in an apron, especially a man with an apron and a big smile who can actually cook (and well -- i was ready for those plaintains), ESPECIALLY a man with an apron and a big smile who can actually cook and hit homers in his sleep.

i just want to give him a big hug around his belly.

mouse update.

2007-10-17T10:27:00.000-04:00

bought the humane traps. but then the mouse disappeared! rainster and i thought perhaps the downstairs neighbor's cat killed/ate it, but i guess i'll never know what happened to that brave little sucker.

also, made potato leek soup yesterday. YUM!

2007-09-29T23:45:00.000-04:00

themouseissqueakingwhyisitsqueaking

i just imagined it walking toward me.

i'm not going to make it through the night.

city mouse

2007-09-29T21:23:00.000-04:00

there are few things i thought to blog about this week, but ended up being too lazy to, like:

1. my thoughts on me possibly doing karaoke with rainster
namely, that my voice is such that i could not try and sing normally, because people would be embarrassed for me. i would have to try and be ironic, like the guy this past week who did britney spears a la robert goulet (on a side note, although i do enjoy covers done in completely different styles, like the acoustic guitar guy who did "real love" by mary j. blige at a dido concert torgo and i went to once long ago, ironically singing britney spears is overdone). but i'm not confident enough to be ironic without practicing exhaustively. i could also try and be funny, but i'm more the witty-story-writer type funny, not the sing-and-dance-goofily-get-the-crowd-going-along-with-you type funny.

2. a random question i had:
namely, where are those trucks that are driving along pulling one long log behind them going? why don't they have a bunch of logs? is this for some log throwing contest for giants? an enormous log cabin being built really inefficiently?
but then, that same day, i figured it out -- ELECTRIC POLES. duh.

but what is it that made me come on here and post? the fact that right now there is a MOUSE in my HOUSE. and by house i mean ONE ROOM APARTMENT.

my parent's house has mice. mostly in the kitchen. so i felt a little better sleeping there because i could convince myself that the mouse was going to stay put in the kitchen, and wouldn't possibly get close to my bed. however, in this apartment, my bed is about four (human) steps from my kitchen. moreover, i have seen the mouse running round under my bed.

it's not a rat or anything. it's just a little mouse. but i am FREAKED OUT. like, right now, i don't know where it is. it could be right under me as i sit on the futon. i know tomorrow i can call my landlord and hope she can do something (i don't want to set a trap), but for tonight, we might have to co-exist. where will the mouse go once i shut all the light off? will the mouse crawl on me in my sleep? on my FACE? oh. oh my.

tuesdays are for discoveries

2007-09-20T09:21:00.000-04:00

DISCOVERY #1: my taxes

duh, xtina, shouldn't you KNOW about your taxes by now? well, yes, i should, if my taxes were still regular taxes. but ACTUALLY my taxes are now unusual. clergy, you see, are considered self-employed, so don't get any taxes taken out. instead, i have to pay estimates on a quarterly basis.

but wait! there's more!
salary for clergy is actually divided into a salary and a housing allowance. why? who knows? and income tax is just taken out of the salary, and social security is taken out of both...plus i need to keep track of all my deductions.

i used to be able to do the 1040EZ. no more! but happily, clergy also get standing room only access to all red sox home games...that kind of makes up for the tax confusion. that and the whole living into my calling thing.

DISCOVERY #2: Party Mix, March 2007

so the other day i was in my mom's car and she hands to me a CD with the words "Party Mix, March 2007" written on it. i don't recognize it, i don't remember any parties in march, and it doesn't look like the handwriting of anyone i know. whatever, i take it anyway. i play it. it doesn't sound like anything my friends would listen to, kind of a mixture of funk, oldies, really fun music...i recognized only a few of the songs (TOTALLY rocked out to Stevie's "signed, sealed, delivered"), but i liked them all. it was like an early Christmas present.

my destiny calls and i go!

2007-09-15T09:01:00.001-04:00

so last night i went to see Man of La Mancha at a theater that I didn't even know existed in downtown Boston. A tiny little venue, but worked perfectly well for the stage set up, which is supposed to look like a prison. the main character, Miguel Cervantes, is a playwright who uses the props in the prison and his fellow prisoners to act out the story of Don Quixote.

i think you'd have to work pretty hard to wreck MoLM because it's such a fun, energetic show with really catchy songs, but this group did a fabulous job, and i liked the multicultural-ness of their company. Don Quixote had the perfect mix of earnestness and dottering age. the Padre was hot (can i think that?) the only thing that was weird to a person who is used to going to musicals (i do love a good musical) in big venues was the pre-recorded music (as opposed to, obviously, an orchestra)...a little distracting. (ed. note: apparently, i am in a parenthetical mood today)

if you haven't seen this show, and are in Boston, go see it where i did. if you haven't seen the show and are not in Boston, find someplace that is playing it, and go see it. at the very least, watch this, which is what turned me on to this musical in the first place.

*for those who don't know, this is the fabulous Scott Bakula in the fabulous Quantum Leap. He sings with a little too much macho gusto for this particular role, but i love him anyway. also, yes, i know it's in spanish. it's the only one i could find.

**also, I just put a video in my blog! praise me.

why i don't speak french

2007-09-14T09:15:00.000-04:00

The Chair-Caner

Whatever it cost to make the old peasant give in
who had refused to yield his ancestors' land,
cost to have the swamp sanded over, and the bridge built
and the reception for state dignitaries, he knows nothing of it
the Sunday painter devoted to flowers
to cats' eyes, to young girls' blossoming
on an imaginary dune, just as such things are not noticed
by the gods of this palace who smoke and talk of art
with the gestures of Greek statues. He only
knows that for painting, a sparrow in the sky
suffices, or a sun-ray on the straw of his chair
if in the depth of silence for an instant that shadow
loosens the grip that makes him drop his eyes.

(Text of the poem in the original French)

Guy Goffette

..because translating poems like this, which i really like, would be really hard. don't you think?

2007-09-13T16:15:00.000-04:00

so the most recent thing i'm procrastinating on is this licensing paper i have to write to get started on the ordination process.

once i do that, i will be on my way to really, really being a pastor, and that's amazing and kind of knee-knockingly scary. early in the summer i went to talk to the grandmother of one of my kids who was going through a hard time. she answered the phone once during the middle of our meeting and said, "let me call you back, i'm talking to a pastor right now" and she meant me...

crazy.

it made me do it.

2007-09-12T11:51:00.000-04:00

i am dumbfounded enough by this to finally come back to the blogging world.

Fudge vs. Gore

2007-07-16T21:03:00.001-04:00

so last thursday i saw harry potter and the order of the phoenix, which was good, but i always hate watching movies based on books because i want the WHOLE book in the movie, and that hardly ever happens. but i was entertained.

and just this very evening i watched an inconvenient truth.
and i decided that when jk rowling wrote the order of the phoenix, she may have been thinking about global warming.

no, wait, really, just listen.

so in order of the phoenix one of the main themes is that the governing body, the ministry of magic, does not want to admit that voldemort is back, and so they get increasingly strict in their monitoring of people who disagree and increasingly shrill in their denials that anything is wrong, even while evidence that something is gravely wrong is staring them in the face. (i mean, hello, dementors in little whinging? mass breakout in azkaban? c'mon, fudge! wake up and smell the soul-sucking!)

let's see. a governing body, not wanting to admit a dangerous situation is imminent? well, ok, that doesn't have to global warming, it could be any number of things. but global warming makes sense also.

one of gore's most chilling facts (and there are a lot of chilling facts) was the results of a study that looked at over 900 scientific articles over the last ten years and over 600 popular press articles. 0% of the scientific articles disagreed that global warming is a serious problem of which humans are the main cause, while over 50% of the popular press disagreed. as gore says, no wonder people are confused.

just like how the prophet called harry a liar, despite the endorsement of one of the greatest wizard who ever lived, dumbledore.

what i'm trying to say is this. don't be like seamus finnagin's mom, believing what the press says, denying a potentially horrendous situation, until the death eaters are practically at your door. be like luna lovegood's dad. that is to say, believe the evidence, and then use your power to put what you know out into the public to convince the doubters.

everything's gravy

2007-07-06T14:12:00.000-04:00

it's been a long time since my last update, sorry about that!

what have i done? i went to camden to hang out with some kids and adults at the ministry i used to work with. all the kids seemed older and stretched out and had facial hair and deeper voices (well, the boys had facial hair and deeper voices). the ministry had changed a lot too -- but everything still felt so familiar.

me and gabby (who is now leaving to work with street children in peru)

(joey in shades and a hat i made him wear)

(tony, pookie, me, albert -- the twins are the guys i gave piano "lessons" to)

(tyrone & cj -- had a great time reminiscing about how awful they were to me when they were in the 8th grade)

(abby, little myron, jason, justin -- the last time i saw jason he was up to abby's elbow. and now, what was i saying? all stretched out. facial hair. i'm old)

(jesse -- he's preaching at his church now!)

(shawn wasn't around for lunch so i sat on his porch with him and we talked for a long time...this kid's going to be a famous dancer some day)

i got back sunday night and felt rushed and struggled to get a discussion ready for youth group on Monday, but we talked about the supreme court decision on the case against seattle/louisville school systems (which i will blog about when i DON'T have a sermon to write) at youth group on Monday and had a very lively discussion that went around and around and came back again. the kids didn't know what they thought, but they got pushed to articulate, which was awesome.

also, i had a GREAT 4th. my friend steve had a party, and i am typically the type that wants to go home at 11 because i'm sleepy, but this time i was wide awake even when we were driving home against the lightening sky. my old high school crew got together and talked forever -- and then continued it the next day when we met for brunch at lisa's house and ate and talked until i was hungry again and looked at the clock and it was SEVEN. so then we went to chili's

(this is us on the porch)

the point being: it's been a superb week.

part time job hunt part two

2007-06-22T09:37:00.000-04:00

OK, so there was a LOT of interest in me taking the nit picking job.

i went to an open house about it, which at first i was really nervous about, since it was a job off craigslist, and how did i know there wasn't a crazy person on the other side of the door of this "open house," ready to trap me in their monstrous newton house.

but there was no craziness or monstrousness, unless you count some of the stories she had about lice: people putting their kids in chemical baths, people on farms giving her fresh eggs in exchange for payment, people with over a thousand nits on their head, people who told their kids to call her "goddess of lice."

i could definitely do it -- it's totally within my capabilities and i don't think it's gross -- but i haven't decided yet if i have the time to commit to it.

part time job hunt part one.

2007-06-16T09:12:00.000-04:00

so, only working at the church part time job leaves me time to pursue another part time job.

so guess what i applied to do?

be a professional nit picker! go around and pick lice eggs out of people's hair!

the other side

2007-06-14T10:26:00.001-04:00

so, we're looking for an administrative assistant for our church office, and i get to do the second interviews.

i had my first one yesterday, and maybe i will get over this feeling by the 4th, but it was REALLY fun being on the other side of the desk, making someone else nervous instead of being the one who was nervous. not that i like making people nervous.
ok, maybe.
no, of course not.
well, maybe.
i think it 's that i would never think that i actually COULD make someone nervous. i mean, me?

anyway, it's way better than i thought it would be.

those winter sundays

2007-06-10T22:56:00.001-04:00

One of my all time favorites, a major reason why being the way my poetry professor would say the last two lines, leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes, holding them in his month like they were some sort of sweet wine.

Those Winter Sundays

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?

--Robert Hayden

taking it old school...

2007-06-10T01:18:00.000-04:00

i'm in a romantic mood tonight...

SONNET 130
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

i said to poetry

2007-06-09T09:53:00.000-04:00

pretend this is yesterday, too. i suck at daily posts.

if you are a poet, you have been here.

I SAID TO POETRY

I said to Poetry:"I'm finished
with you."
Having to almost die
before some wierd light
comes creeping through
is no fun.
"No thank you, Creation,
no muse need apply.
Im out for good times--
at the very least,
some painless convention."

Poetry laid back
and played dead
until this morning.
I wasn't sad or anything,
only restless.

Poetry said: "You remember
the desert, and how glad you were
that you have an eye
to see it with? You remember
that, if ever so slightly?"
I said: "I didn't hear that.
Besides, it's five o'clock in the a.m.
I'm not getting up
in the dark
to talk to you."

Poetry said: "But think about the time
you saw the moon
over that small canyon
that you liked so much better
than the grand one--and how suprised you were
that the moonlight was green
and you still had
one good eye
to see it with

Think of that!"

"I'll join the church!" I said,
huffily, turning my face to the wall.
"I'll learn how to pray again!"

"Let me ask you," said Poetry.
"When you pray, what do you think
you'll see?"

Poetry had me.

"There's no paper
in this room," I said.
"And that new pen I bought
makes a funny noise."

"Bullshit," said Poetry.
"Bullshit," said I.

--Alice Walker

we interrupt your regularly scheduled poetry week

2007-06-08T12:49:00.001-04:00

...because i just can't hold it in. i try to be an environmentally conscious consumer. i have canvas tote bags for groceries/other purchased products. i buy environmentally sound dish soap and trash bags and paper towels. i reuse my ziploc bags. i recycle. i bring my travel mug wherever i go since i'm such an avid coffee drinker. that way, if i decide to stop, i have my mug with me. i even have a iced coffee container that i bring around on hot days.

i go into the dunkin donuts (the hypocrisy of a self-proclaimed environmentally conscious consumer buying coffee at dunkin donuts is yet to be determined). i say, holding out my mug, "can i have a french vanilla with cream and sugar please?"
the person behind the counter says, "what size is this?"
i say, "medium."
she pours the coffee into BOTH a small and medium sized disposable cup and then into my mug, discovering that of course, it is a medium.

this is the SECOND time this has happened to me. the first time, it was with my iced coffee container, which is an actual dunkin donuts piece of merchandise (my regular travel mug is not). i told the cashier it was a large (which she should have known, being an employee of the company which manufactures this container), and she used a small, medium, AND large plastic cup full of water to determine the exact size. which is large. "you're right," she said.

yes. yes i am right. meanwhile, more waste had been produced than if i had just purchased the coffee straight out. GAH.

we now return you to peaceful world of poetry.

dancing toward jesus

2007-06-08T10:40:00.001-04:00

pretend this is yesterday...

so the previous post was probably one of lucille clifton's most well-known poems. this one i discovered later, and would probably like just as much if i didn't relate so much to the hips one (having magic hips, myself)

i like this one because it combines nature and city and makes both seem beautiful, and makes worship embodied.

God send Easter

and we will lace the
jungle on
and step out
brilliant as birds
against the concrete country
feathers waving as we
dance toward jesus
sun reflecting mango
and apple as we
glory in our skin.

--Lucille Clifton

funny thing about google imaging

2007-06-06T23:52:00.001-04:00

so in pursuit of finding a suitable picture for my very favorite poem by my very favorite poet (below), i had two interesting/exciting/ arguably life changing discoveries:

1. first i googled "hips" and on the very first page on the VERY FIRST LINE got a picture of a woman giving a water birth! yup, bit of a shocker.

2. then i googled "lucille clifton" and on the THIRD page found a picture of myself! from the profile of this blog! the fact that a picture of myself came up when i googled the name of my favorite poet made me very giddy indeed.

ultimately, i decided to save the lucille clifton picture for my other lucille clifton post (yes, there will be another), and couldn't find a good enough one to embody the hips and so the post goes pictureless. but it doesn't need a picture, it's THAT FRICKIN GOOD.

homage to my hips

2007-06-06T23:43:00.000-04:00

wait, but if this is your favorite poem, christina, by your favorite poet, why are you putting it on wednesday of all days. why didn't you put it first, or save it for last?

well, because it's the perfect poem to make you want to sway your way into the rest of the week...

homage to my hips

these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top!

---Lucille Clifton

This is Just to Say

2007-06-05T21:28:00.001-04:00

because it is a warm summer night, and i have fresh peaches to eat...

THIS IS JUST TO SAY

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.

--William Carlos Williams

alternate versions

2007-06-05T21:23:00.001-04:00

this made me laugh, but make sure you read the real one above first...

VARIATIONS ON A THEME BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

1
I chopped down the house that you had been saving to live in next summer.
I am sorry, but it was morning, and I had nothing to do
and its wooden beams were so inviting.

2
We laughed at the hollyhocks together
and then I sprayed them with lye.
Forgive me. I simply do not know what I am doing.

3
I gave away the money that you had been saving to live on for the next ten years.
The man who asked for it was shabby
and the firm March wind on the porch was so juicy and cold.

4
Last evening we went dancing and I broke your leg.
Forgive me. I was clumsy and
I wanted you here in the wards, where I am the doctor!
--Kenneth Koch

Love Calls us to the Things of this World

2007-06-04T13:56:00.001-04:00

Editor's note: this poem is not formatted correctly. i keep adding spaces to no avail -- when the blog is published, they're not there. sorry, richard wilbur! sorry poem readers!

************************************************************************************

LOVE CALLS US TO THE THINGS OF THIS WORLD

The eyes open to a cry of pulleys,
And spirited from sleep, the astounded soul
Hangs for a moment bodiless and simple
As false dawn.
Outside the open window
The morning air is all awash with angels.

Some are in bed-sheets, some are in blouses,
Some are in smocks: but truly there they are.
Now they are rising together in calm swells
Of halcyon feeling, filling whatever they wear
With the deep joy of their impersonal breathing;

Now they are flying in place, conveying
The terrible speed of their omnipresence, moving
And staying like white water; and now of a sudden
They swoon down into so rapt a quiet
That nobody seems to be there.
The soul shrinks

From all that is about to remember,
From the punctual rape of every blessed day,
And cries,
``Oh, let there be nothing on earth but laundry,
Nothing but rosy hands in the rising steam
And clear dances done in the sight of heaven.''

Yet, as the sun acknowledges
With a warm look the world's hunks and colors,
The soul descends once more in bitter love
To accept the waking body, saying now
In a changed voice as the man yawns and rises,

``Bring them down from their ruddy gallows;
Let there be clean linen for the backs of thieves;
Let lovers go fresh and sweet to be undone,
And the heaviest nuns walk in a pure floating
Of dark habits,
keeping their difficult balance.''
--Richard Wilbur

********************************************************************************
a perfect Monday poem. i take issue with the soul/body split, but i love how beautiful and even spiritual everyday things like laundry, steam, and rosy hands become in this poem.

a former professor told a story about changing her baby's diaper while in a faculty meeting with other prominent theologians/scholars. one remarked to her that there she was this well known theologian having this high-falutin' theological discussions with all of these academics, and moments later she was stuck doing a mundane, dirty task. she looked at him and said, "this is the most theological thing i've done all day."

o let there be nothing on earth but laundry!

we real cool

2007-06-03T18:53:00.000-04:00

i'm putting this one in because my friend once sent me a link to an audiorecording of Gwendolyn Brooks reading this poem, and it is amazing. she read it in a way that was completely surprising to me and honestly? knocked my socks off.

the poem:

WE REAL COOL

The Pool Players
Seven at the Golden Shovel

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

i read a piece where she wrote that reading it you should say the "we" softly, because it is meant to speak to the uncertainly of the boys in the pool hall.

and because she said she wished people remembered she wrote other poems:

SPEECH TO THE YOUNG :
SPEECH TO THE PROGRESS-TOWARD

Say to them,
say to the down-keepers,
the sun-slappers,
the self-soilers,
the harmony-hushers,
"even if you are not ready for day
it cannot always be night."
You will be right.
For that is the hard home-run.

Live not for battles won.
Live not for the-end-of-the-song.
Live in the along.

i love this one, especially as a somewhat progressive (for my denomination at least) pastor, because i want to say it: "even if you are not ready for day, it cannot always be night."

“A poem begins with a lump in the throat” --frost

2007-06-03T18:42:00.000-04:00

so i had a friend stay with me this weekend, a fellow lover of poetry, and we got to sharing some poems we really liked, and i, having not read poetry in a bit, remembered what it felt like to get goosebumps from a line of a poem that was to me especially true, especially real, especially hitting a note that had not yet been hit, and so well...

i therefore decided to dub this week poetry week. i was going to do my top ten poems, but then i decided to not be so organized. all the poems will be ones i really like, though, therefore they will all be really awesome poems.

let us begin.

so...

2007-05-31T18:15:00.000-04:00

i was listening to npr on my way back from chicago and the woman being interviewed said something about the gas crisis drawing people more into their immediate neighborhood because they realize it takes a lot of gas and money to see friends that are farther away.

it got me thinking about the nature of friendship and how friendships have changed since email/blogs/facebook/myspace/cell phone/any other kind of advanced technology. now we are more connected than before, but the connections are different, broader but shallower?? i keep up with old friends via internet, and i can feel connected without ever actually talking to them. people can read all about my life via my blog and my facebook, and feel like they're caught up with my life, and we would never have to physically connect. like, when i look at my site meter, and somebody from Romania looked at my blog. someone across the Atlantic has read all about my seminary journey, my obsession with jane eyre, my cooking attempts. someone from a totally different country that i have never seen, probably will never see, might feel like they know me, at least a little. or at least, they know how i choose to represent myself.

so it's different, but is it bad?

are we more connected to the globe but less to our neighbors? can we be both? is the npr woman right? will the economy drive us back to the way we were? or will it rather drive us further into isolation, communicating with others within the confines of our individual homes?

i have no idea.

on acrostics, nerds, and being a pastor.

2007-05-20T18:34:00.000-04:00

so, this week was graduation. i've been back in chicago, hanging out, defending my thesis (it worked), speaking at my graduation dinner, graduating, and celebrating afterwards. pictures to come, but i thought it would be nice to share the thoughts i shared at the dinner, since they sum up my thoughts nicely. it's a little long, but you didn't get a post for like a week, so pretend i wrote a post a day and this is just all the posts, all at once.

Ok, I know everybody probably gets up here and says how happy and thankful and honored they are to be asked to speak at the senior dinner, but I have got to say, I don’t think you all understand the stress you put me under during these last few weeks. So much angst: be funny, be profound, make people cry, can you possibly be as good as [guy who spoke before me], [guy last year] did impressions last year, how can I possibly top that?

I was talking to one of the youth I’m working with now and asking him what he thought I should do and he said, “well, it depends on how people know you. I mean, do people know you’re funny?” and I said, “well, I don’t know,” and he said, “well, maybe don’t go funny then!” And then I asked Scott and Phil their ideas, which ranged from showing off my new North Park tattoo to creating an acrostic poem, “N is for New Testament, which we learned from Klyne, O is for Old Testament which turned out just fine.” I almost did that one but then I decided that by the time I got through North Park Theological Seminary no one would really think it was funny anymore. And I don’t actually have a new North Park tattoo, so there’ll be none of that either.

What I do want to talk about is this process of learning to be a pastor, which is what a lot of us have been doing, supposedly, for the last years and months.

You might know this about me – I’m a bit of a nerd. I like school. I like reading, I like writing papers. I took Hebrew readings for kicks, and I voluntarily wrote a 72 page paper this year, and so the part of learning to be a pastor that had to do with books and learning, equipping and training through the classroom experience, lectures, note taking, reading – I was prepared for that – nerd that I am, I was excited for it.

What threw me a bit off guard was the learning how to be a pastor that came from the people you met, the relationships that were formed, drinking coffee in the lounge, getting riled up over salads and sandwiches in the student lunch room, grocery shopping with people, having people over my house to eat, to drink, to dance, to play, sharing lives and stories. When I got here, I was not ready for any of that. When I got here, I was pretty much convinced that I was going to take my book-learnin’ and run, right back to Boston. I was going to drop my mind and my body off for a year and a half and keep my heart where I wanted it, in the city where I grew up and the city I was always planning to go back to.

What threw me a bit off guard was discovering that that kind of thinking not only wasn’t going to make me a good pastor, it was going to make for a pretty miserable time at seminary. Eventually, after a rough opening semester, highlighted only by the Red Sox winning the World Series, something that is, by the way, not a fluke and will totally happen again, possibly this year, I started to realize that learning how to be a pastor was more than this book learning stuff that I liked and expected and was good at. Learning how to be a pastor, for me, meant cultivating honest and real relationships, and through those relationships, looking inward at stuff I would rather not see – and this was something I didn’t expect, and didn’t necessarily like, and didn’t really feel all that good at. Learning how to be a pastor, for me, was learning how to see myself for who I am, and not who I used to be, how to see myself in terms of what I have (my abundance), and not what I lack, what I am not, (my scarcity). Learning how to be a pastor was learning to accept and appreciate when people say or do nice things for me, learning to embrace relationships in which I am the one who is strong and needed, and relationships in which I am the one who is weak, the one who needs. Learning how to be a pastor was, for, me, learning that my understanding of God and faith has been shaped by my experiences, and is not comprehensive, to develop a fuller picture of God and faith I must listen to the experiences of other who are different from me. Learning how to be a pastor was looking for and acknowledging wisdom and knowledge and examples of faith among people who I didn’t immediately identify as teachers: my peers, my boss, the homeless and low income women at the place I volunteered, the kids running around my neighborhood, undergrads. Learning how to be a pastor was learning how to fight and reconcile, how to let people hug me without stiffening like a board, how to really be in the place where I was, not always looking off into the distance, how to say when I’m hurt, how to recognize the connection between, and value, of all people, and how to live like I recognize it.

Just a few weekends ago I was at a women’s retreat at the church I’m working at now. My situation at that church is unusual because it’s the church I grew up in, so one of the things that’s been in the forefront on my mind is how to develop a pastoral identity among people who have changed my diapers. The theme of the retreat was memory, and first we showed pictures of happy times and shared those memories. Then the pastor leading the retreat set out a basket of stones, and told us we were to come up, take a stone, and share a painful memory. As I listened to the memories that were shared, memories of profound heartache, memories of last breaths, of endured cruelty, of regret, as I saw the women responding to one another, both in the moment with a passed tissue or a nod that said, “yes, I have been there too,” and after the moment, collapsing one another in hugs or continuing conversations and prayers on the bench outside, as I listened and watched these women, I realized I was still in seminary. I thought about these women responding to one another at the retreat, and responding to the weak and poor in our congregation, and I realized that months after finishing classes, I was still learning how to be a pastor. I might know a little more Greek than these women, and I may have a little bit more of that book learning that I like so much, but they have a wealth of knowledge about what it means to be a servant, what it means to persist without recognition, what it means to be honest with yourself and others, what it means to be truly vulnerable, what it means to sit in the quiet with someone who is hurting.

So all I’m trying to say is that a lot of you sitting in the room tonight thought you were done. Until I started writing this reflection, I thought I was done. But we’re not. (sorry). We are still learning to be pastors, chaplains, missionaries, writers, teachers, poets, from our families, from those in our congregation, from those in our neighborhood, from those outside our neighborhood, from those who look or think nothing like us, from those many would figure have nothing important or interesting to say. I say, let’s embrace our un-doneness, our future learning, the unconventional professors that are going to crop up in all different shapes and sizes. Real wisdom, I think, is realizing that we’re not all that wise, that there’s a lot left out there for us to start thinking about and trying to understand.

We’re not all that wise. We’ve got a lot left to learn. We are already, but not yet done. Praise God for it.

updatikins

2007-05-11T09:20:00.000-04:00

it's true!

now that i'm not trying to procrastinate, i don't blog!

what a life i lead.

anyway, here's an update.

watching:
Jane Eyre, 2006. a decent version, with a PERFECT Jane Eyre and a kind of wimpy Rochester (Dalton will always be my favorite). a bit of extraneous sexiness, as modern filmmakers seem wont to do for remakes of old, chaste, novels (see: Pride and Prejudice, 2006, which Rainster and I were grumbling about before...Elizabeth would not have run out into the moors in her pajamas, only to meet Darcy in his pajamas. GAH.)

Stranger than Fiction. Basically, I agree with everything torgo said. about the ending especially.

reading:
Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, Gregory Maguire (he wrote Wicked, which I thought was great). FINALLY something low stress and entertaining.

looking forward to:
Rainster's Boston visit
Chicago in 3 days
graduation in 8 days

shaking my head about:
this.
honestly? i talk during the movies. i don't talk LOUDLY, but i kind of think that's part of the fun. that being said, i probably wouldn't talk during a pops performance (because, really? it's not like in the movies. i mean, what are you saying? not "aw, crap, she better not go in there," or "take him back, he really loves you!") anyway, i can understand the passing whisper. but i draw the line at punching someone in the face. i mean, have some decorum.

done?

2007-05-02T07:46:00.001-04:00

DONE.

what is this procrastination you speak of?

2007-04-30T19:51:00.000-04:00

You scored as Elizabeth Bennet. As one of Austen's most beloved characters, Elizabeth Bennet represents what most women would like to become: strong, independent, and loyal. Of course, she has her faults including a stubborn will of iron and a clinging to first impressions. Overall, Lizzie is bright and lovable...something to admire and aspire to.

Elizabeth Bennet

63%

Elinor Dashwood

59%

Jane Bennet

47%

Emma Woodhouse

47%

Marianne Dashwood

41%

Charlotte Lucas

28%

Lady Catherine

16%

Which Jane Austen Character are You? (For Females) Long Quiz!!!
created with QuizFarm.com

i only have one beef with this quiz -- not a broad enough range of characters! 4 from Pride and Prejudice, 2 from Sense & Sensibility, and 1 from Emma (I mean, what about Harriet?...where is Anne from Persuasion? or Fanny from Mansfield Park?)

way to make me feel AWESOME.

2007-04-30T01:16:00.000-04:00

conversation with a three year old, today at church

her: are you a teenager?
me: no, not anymore.
her: are you a grown up?
me: yes, i am a grown up. (NOTE: that answer was kind of scary in itself)
her: why aren't you married yet?
me: ...

ask and you shall receive

2007-04-28T17:10:00.000-04:00

so, i wanted to talk about books more. and in looking for more desert island question options, i came upon this, and found it interesting, so here we go.

1.One book that changed your life
Savage Inequalities, Jonathan Kozol. i don't think i got white privilege until i read this book.

2.One book that you've read more than once
there are a lot of these. one that i really liked: Song of Solomon, Toni Morrison.

3.One book that you'd want on a desert island
see previous post and exchange the word "one" for "three."

4.One book that made you laugh
Harry Potter -- they all make me laugh.

5.One book that made you cry
i really don't think i've cried at a book. Animal Farm made me really angry...actually i might have cried when they *SPOILER* took the horse away.

6.One book you wish you had written
this is not definitive, but since i recommended it, we'll say Ella Minnow Pea, because it was so cute and creative. or! since we already threw in a little Toni Morrison, The Bluest Eye. that book is so carefully constructed and thoughful.

7.One book you wish had never been written
My So Called Life Goes On, Carolyn Clark. a novelization of the series. awful. awful awful. the author basically took Sweet Valley High, took out the names and stuck in Angela, Rayanne, Jordan, Ricky, and Brian. twenty pages in i took it and threw it behind my bed in disgust.

8.One book you're currently reading
Real Sex, Lauren Winner -- a book that i hope will help me take some sort of approach to sexuality with my kids that's not "don't do it! sex is bad! just because it is, stop asking questions!"

9.One book you have been meaning to read
She who Is, Elizabeth Johnson -- a landmark feminist theology text. Got it through paperbackswap, sitting on my shelf, waiting for me to finish this thesis.

10.Now tag five people
torgo and rainster (obviously), jen d., lisa, and mike. and, for kicks, one person i don't know -- maybe the person in florida who read it yesterday.

desert island

2007-04-28T16:48:00.000-04:00

just watched the office's "the fire" (on a break from thesis writing) and got inspired by the desert island game. SO!

blog readers:
if you were to end up on a desert island:
what three books would you want with you?
what four CDs?
what five movies?

this is my list:
*caveat for the books: whenever we used to do this kind of thing with Christians, we would always say, "besides the Bible," because people would always feel like they would have to say the Bible. i would make that caveat here, but i really do want to take the Bible, so i'll own my stuff.

books:
1. the Bible
2. persuasion, jane austen (for when i'm feeling romantic)
3. a poetry anthology of some sort. maybe "A Book of Luminous Things" (international) or that book we got in Peter Harris' class, "Contemporary American Poetry."

CDs:
1. Lauryn Hill's "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill"
2. My "Musicals Rule" mix (is that cheating? if it is, Les Miserables.)
3. Counting Crow's "August and Everything After"
4. One of my Christian/gospel mixes (again, if that's cheating, Third Day's "Offerings")

movies:
1. Anne of Green Gables/Anne of Avonlea (i'm counting them as one)
2. Pride and Prejudice (1995)
3. Breakfast Club
4. Princess Bride
5. My So Called Life First Season

boy that was kind of hard! especially the books! i wanted three more choices!

what a thesis looks like

2007-04-26T17:36:00.000-04:00

The whole scene...

The Christina-shaped hole in my futon where i've been sitting and typing for the past two weeks.

right side of the futon (note the essential coffee mug, and the pringles i finished off over the course of the day)

left side of the futon (i got that book you see, black feminist thought, at torgo's yard sale, and it has been indispensible for this thesis)

the floor -- i also had to finish a page for a memory book for our dean of students this week (she's leaving to focus on her Ph.D.) so that's what all the art supplies are for.

the ottoman. the office DVD is the one you see right towards the front. i'm returning the 1996 jane eyre i got (ABYSMALLY boring) and getting the first disc of season 2.

what i look like after 10 hours of writing.

please God, let it be tuesday! let me be done!

Jane Eyre Fevah!

2007-04-23T15:09:00.000-04:00

it's Eyre all over the place.

just finished the 1973 version, with Sorcha Cusack and Michael Jayston.

upon careful consideration, i think i am still partial to 1983. first, both the early years and the late years were MUCH better in 1983. young Jane was perfect, and the young cousins were not so stiff. plus, in the 1973 version, they completely cut out the character of Rosamund Oliver, which, i think, makes St. John Rivers a whole lot less interesting.

also, Timothy Dalton was WAY more passionate than Jayston. the scene where Jane is leaving in the 1983 version is totally heartbreaking...Dalton looks like he's about to flip over a chair or two, he's so pissed. Jayston is not bad, just more subtle. but this is Bronte! there is no room for subtlety! only passion and hidden wives and orphans abandoned by loose-living french opera singers.

also, i was distracted by several things which probably won't supposed to be funny, but were. like:

*when john reed throws a book at young jane, she gets this "cut" on her head. pretty much, the worst fake cut i have ever seen.

*when they throw young jane in the room to punish her, the maids want to tie her up, and the young maid says to the old maid, "give me your garter." so then there is this AMAZING shot of the old maid lifting up her skirts above her knee and starting to pull down the garter, and the camera does this weird zoom in on her leg, and i totally got scared that i rented the porn version of Jane Eyre by accident. but then Jane says she won't run and the old maid puts down her skirts and the scene goes on like we're weren't JUST ABOUT to be witness to something truly unsettling. this picture is right before the skirt goes up. we're about to see an awful lot of the lady on the right here.

*Jayston's character saying "what the deuce" (or why the deuce, or how the deuce) ALL the time. maybe that was in the book, either way, it seemed like it was a running gag and not really part of the character. what the deuce is up with that?!? see, anytime anyone says it it's funny

*Jayston's EYELINER. oh my gosh, every time there was a close up i couldn't tear my eyes away!

* Jayston's and Cusack's kissing scenes. it didn't seemed like they ever actually kissed. it was kind of like they were just scrunching up their shoulders and putting their mouths together, like they were 7 years old and all, "what's kissing? i think it's when you do THIS"

so far, the Tinglof recommended version of Jane Eyre is 1983, Timothy Dalton and Zelah Clarke.

in other news, because i can exchange my Blockbuster online dvds for dvds in the store, i am never without a movie/tv show! at torgo's urging, i went for the first season of the Office (skipping the pilot), and watched "Health Care" and "the Alliance." hi. larious. I don't remember laughing so much at something on TV since I was watching the Cosby show, first run. and so, in honor, i end with this:

" In the wild, there is no health care. In the wild, health care is, "Ow, I hurt my leg. I can't run. A lion eats me and I'm dead." Well, I'm not dead. I'm the lion, you're dead. "

"ballroom dancing is like this...tiny little grain of sand, if you count the entire country"

2007-04-18T10:50:00.000-04:00

watched mad hot ballroom this week.

way back when, torgo disapproved of the movie.

well, i respectfully disagree. i thought it was wonderful, mostly because i'm sick of documentaries or movies that feature the inner city as an awful, terrible place riddled with drugs, violence, and kids who are going nowhere. this movie, in my opinion, really resisted that, and showed a lot of the joy, creativity, intelligence, and resilience kids growing up in urban areas have. it didn't shy away from the realities -- one of my favorite scenes was of two girls sitting in the park on a rock, discussing the kind of boy they would like to date: someone focused on school, not selling drugs, who respects them, just because it shows that they know what's out there, and they want something different for themselves.

the director of the place where i used to work in new jersey, urban promise, used to always say that people hear enough about the terrible things in the inner city, and when he was fundraising, he never wanted to get money out of people by telling them how bad the lives of the kids in camden were, but rather how wonderful the kids were, how they are talented, happy, and unique, how they like to play, how they get excited about learning, and how, given the same opportunities, could be just as (traditionally) successful as the kid in the wealthy suburb just a few miles away.

anyway, soap box finished. besides all that, it was funny -- kids are so funny. some of my favorite parts:

this one girl spouting off about "scientific research" all the time, while swinging her umbrella. "scientific research" told her both that 11 year olds are the prime target for kidnappers (to which her friend hilariously replies "what's a napper?"), and also that "women overall...are the advanced civilization."

one boy saying in front of his friends that he judges girls by their "outer beauty and their inner beauty...mostly their inner beauty," and then his friend looking at him like, "yeah, right. LIAR."

three of the boys from the italian neighborhood waxing philosophical over the foosball table:
*on ballroom dancing: "it's like a sport that...hasn't been invented yet."
*on being 11: "i find hard being eleven is school...you have to learn these new, really hard things, and sometimes teachers don't even understand it...like how, people think, like...marriage, parts of marriage is weird...like gay marriage, how they be talking about it." to which his friend replies, "in the Bible, it ain't say, like it says, it says people can get married. it doesn't say what KIND of people."

one boy from the wealthier school talking about being 11: "you gotta put deodorant, you gotta start washing TWO times a day, you start growing hair in weird places, and you don't change your sheets because you peed."

and i loved watching all of the kids from the winning school cheering on each other -- they were SO happy and excited to be there, they loved watching the "attitude" on the faces of their teammates, it was all so much fun for them...and the teacher and principal watching, so proud.

i thought it was great.

My Heritage

2007-04-10T21:00:00.000-04:00

so apparently there's this "my heritage" website which shows you which celebrities you look like. i tried it, and it really just shows you which celebrities are making the same pose as you are in the photo you submit. what the heck that has to do with your heritage, i have no idea.

BUT! i decided, just for fun, to be my own "my heritage." or...whatever. anyway, here are all the celebrities i've been told i look like. what do you think? guess which one i've heard more than once and guess which one i got as a preteen. guess which one i had to go back and google image to figure out what the people were talking about and guess which one i could only be imagining i heard.

maybe it actually won't be that fun. but humor me.

first, there's me:

and then there are my look-a-likes (from l. to r.: amelia earhart, michelle pfieffer, lucy narnia girl, and kiefer sutherland):

Women are supposed to be very calm generally

2007-04-10T16:47:00.000-04:00

when i was studying medieval female mystics, we talked a lot about how while they weren't modern day feminists, they worked within their structures to affirm women...and authors like Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte do the same things i think. to finish the quote from Jane Eyre:

"Women are supposed to be very calm generally; but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties and a field for their efforts as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags. It is thoughtless to condemn them, or laugh at them, if they seek to do more or learn more than custom has pronounced necessary for their sex." Chapter 12

so novels affirming the validity of women's feelings and actions, with a healthy dose of romance...why wouldn't i want to see every adaptation?

we all know that the 1995 A&E version of pride and prejudice with colin firth and jennifer ehle is the definitive version. can you go back after you've seen this?

that's the face of love, people.

but i watched the 1980 version anyway. some interesting character differences between mr. collins (and as many versions as i've seen, mr. collins is ALWAYS really funny), and lady catherine de bourgh, who i actually think was better in this version. she was younger, and had more of the "everytime i open my mouth you must gape in awe at the wonderful things i say." than the BBC version, where she was just kind of an old shrew. i always also feel bad for the women who have to play her daughter because your part is basically: be sickly and pale and painfully shy, all to make elizabeth look hotter and to make viewers wonder why darcy would ever even consider marrying you. i do like that this version features elizabeth prominently on the cover, not darcy, like the 1995 version. since elizabeth is, you know, the main character.

anyway, this version was very BBC-esque, that is, very stage-y, like watching a play. nowhere near the 1995 version. but entertaining.

i just re read jane eyre at the beginning of this school year, and i have to say, i always kind of related to characters like jane, who were headstrong in their own way but also moral in a way that some people might think them week. fanny from mansfield park is like this -- in my jane austen in fiction and film class i was the only one who took up for her. everyone else thought she was a goody two shoes.

the 1983 version of jane eyre was pretty good, although i think that timothy dalton was a bit too dashing for mr. rochester. he and zelah clarke balanced each other, though, she was grave and calm as she should be, and he was emotional and volatile.

jane's hairstyle annoyed me, though, mostly because it was so precarious every time rochester would touch her head (which was a lot once they got feeling all romantical), he would mess it up. i was like "tighter bun, girl! put it in a tighter bun!" you would be able to see this if the main picture was of jane, who is the main character, and not rochester, who was played by a hottie (even though he's not supposed to be handsome).

i have at least 4 more versions of jane eyre in my queue, as well as persuasion (which i've seen, but LOVE and will maybe love more that i am now an old spinster like anne)...are we all SO excited?

various and sundry.

2007-04-10T16:32:00.000-04:00

SO!

apparently street sweeping is a tad more important in Boston than in Chicago, where they just give you a ticket. in Boston, they give you a ticket AND they tow you. AWESOME.

also, i now have a definite due date for my thesis: forty pages in 3 weeks! it can happen!

also, i have no cable but blockbuster online, and i enjoy early British women writers and i am a hopeless romantic, and especially like the stories where the two lovebirds don't think the other one loves them, and it comes together in some suitably extravagant fashion, so i have decided to work through the adaptations of jane eyre and the austen books, at least until the office season one is available (blockbuster online says it is a "short wait"). see above.

sound of silence

2007-03-28T10:17:00.000-04:00

so i moved into my new apartment...with no internet...hence the posting lag.

i never knew how much lack of internet access would drive me crazy. but it does.

why do people do this to me?

2007-03-15T15:39:00.000-04:00

i was going to blog about this movement, the "Godmen," a long time ago, when the chicago tribune wrote an article about it.

i forgot about it, but then good morning america had to go and bring it up to the nation.

apparently jesus is a sissy, and we sing "prom songs to jesus" at church. the leader says "we're not trying to take over (ed. note: weird, i thought men had taken over the church a long time ago.); we love the feminine side (ed note: which apparently is "ferns" instead of "metal" as decorations). we just want a little balance."

i don't even have the energy to deconstruct this, although if i wanted to, there's enough stuff on the website to write a paper to rival my thesis.

see more: the craziness. or don't, because it's that annoying.

in honor of today

2007-03-08T15:04:00.000-05:00

today is international women's day.

and so, a favorite poem by a favorite poet:

won't you celebrate with me

won't you celebrate with me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,
my one hand holding tight
my other hand; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.

--Lucille Clifton

the profound and the petty

2007-03-05T09:38:00.000-05:00

so last tuesday i went to my first alumni event for my high school. it was a "dialouge and discourse" with a priest who graduated the year i was born (he wasn't a priest when he graduated, of course), who works at a parish in lawrence, mass and runs a meal center there (check it out: corunummealcenter.org). the story behind it was cool, he and his board (or whoever) dreamed up their ideal meal center for the hungry in lawrence: what it would be like if they could do whatever they wanted. they came up with things like serving prime rib and lobster tails instead of soup and PBJ, having waiters and waitresses so that people weren't sitting in a long line, having a huge beautiful building, seating people at round tables so it felt more like a resturant than the long rectangular institutional seating. and then they did it. they've only been open for a few months, but they raised money, got partnerships with resturants, and are operating out of that ideal.

according to this priest, a big part of operating out of that ideal is affirming the dignity of the poor...just because people are hungry doesn't mean they don't deserve the best. it reminded me of a book i read, The Amnesty of Grace, by Elsa Tamez. it was for my justice and justification class, and one phrase has profoundly affected me...Tamez defines justification and justice as "the affirmation of life". what does it mean to affirm the lives of those who have much less than i do? is it just by throwing money their way? or is it affording them the same dignity i would anyone else? it's the latter of course, but that's also the harder, more time consuming, more sacrificial (and i don't mean just monetarily or materialistically -- it's hard sometimes to admit that all of our stuff and education and learned skills doesn't make us better people than someone who has none of that) action. my volunteer time at sarah's circle in chicago was so meaningful to me because it taught me how to affirm life, it forced me away from typical soup kitchen volunteering and out into relationships with the women at the center...serving up dinner and cleaning the kitchen was much easier than sitting down and conversing with the women, listening to their stories and telling them my own. but sitting across from them, women who others might scurry away from on the streets, women with greasy hair or missing teeth or dirty clothes, it was a way to affirm their lives, to say, no matter what anyone says, you're worth listening to, and for them to do the same for me. of course, i haven't created the same opportunities for me to do that here...as with everything, it's an ongoing process...

and in the petty: aj and leslie, both gone from american idol! american public, what have you done??!?

LOST: why i watch american idol

2007-02-23T09:52:00.000-05:00

now that i'm back in boston and not watching LOST with my super LOST posse in chicago, i'm losing patience a lot faster than before. in fact, i might just hate LOST.

(here be spoilers. and lots of pent up rage)

why are we focusing on jack and his stupid tattoo that no one cares about? AND, why did kate and sawyer stop asking karl questions (they were on a roll, and then nothing...how about "what makes life with the others so much "better"? it kind of sucked for you, didn't it karl? why were you in that creepy room? why do you people live in one place and work in the other? how did you get here? who are your parents?" i mean, COME ON, kate, sawyer, he's right there, and you just saved his life, MILK IT FOR ALL ITS WORTH!)? AND, why did cindy look all shocked that jack was pissed and yelling at her? HELLO, cindy, jack's in a CAGE and you're being vague, why WOULDN'T he yell at you? I'M yelling at you! and i'm not in a cage, and i haven't been tortured (unless you count the torture of this show), and beaten up and only given grilled cheese to eat. AND, why do they keep bringing up new people, like this sheriff lady, when we haven't seen sayid or jin in weeks and locke and sun only barely? AND, i thought they were supposed to answer mysteries last night! i DON'T CARE why jack has tattoos and what they say (because, as he told the sheriff, she knows what it says, but that's not what it "means"). because even when you tell us, it brings up more questions (like, why did he get beat up by the people on the island, and what does it "mean"). so you're introducing more stupid mysteries and you don't even explain the OTHER mysteries that we've had for longer and care more about, like telling us why the stupid others take certain people and kids and hold executions and why the island killed eko and when charlie is dying and what happened to michael and walt and vincent and danielle! AND if i hear one more time that this will be worth it and the story about the others needed telling and just wait i swear i am going to hunt down whoever is in charge of this and grabuioshtiorsbxjobgosl! GAH.

whew! glad i got that out.

but i did like the kate and sawyer bit -- i felt bad for sawyer.

swap and sing: something for everyone.

2007-02-22T21:22:00.000-05:00

OK, all you readers, check this out:

paperbackswap.com

you post 9 books and they give you 3 credits. for every credit, you get to search their database and find a book you want. you order it, and then it comes! for free! all you have to do is pay for shipping for the books of yours that someone wants. and then, for every book you send, you get ANOTHER credit. for another book!

now that i write it out, it sounds kind of like a library. but you can keep the books! and someone gets a book you don't want! i got rid of a random biography of Handel that i found, and some art book that someone got me for christmas, and i ordered "faith seeking understanding" -- a great theology book that i used last semester but didn't buy, and "autobiography of an ex-colored man" which someone just told me was a fascinating read.

so now i've gotten two books, and mailed two books, so i have three credits. any recommendations?

in other news, apparently women sing better than men. on american idol last night, the women had way better voices, but didn't have the same kind of personalities, at least the same kind of obvious personalities. also, they tell the women every year -- don't try to sing aretha, don't try to sing celine, don't try to sing whitney, unless you can REALLY do it (and it's the rare women that can REALLY do it). but we had 2 celine songs, 4 arethas...c'mon!

my two favorite women: the shy ladies who are nervous even though they're awesome. melinda, on the right, is a former background singer who should really be a front-ground singer, and lakeisha, on the left, is a single mom who works for a bank. she pulled out "and i am telling you," which made me roll my eyes, because it's kind of obvious, but she's sweet.

the two "hipster women": both of these ladies i want to like, because they're different and have their own style and are not really in the conventional pretty-idol-girl mold, but i was disappointed in both of them. gina, on the left, totally didn't hit the right note on the BIG note of the song and then tried to play like Simon was wrong and she did hit it and like she was proud of something that made me wince (the picture is of her NOT hitting the note). leslie has a rock-ska vibe, but she sang aretha, which seemed mismatched (but look at her dress! and the boots! LOVE.).

the other women are kind of forgettable with their wavy hair and skinny jeans. also of note: ryan seacrest is really short, or this is a particularly tall crop of women:

news, more news, and american idol

2007-02-21T09:44:00.000-05:00

news: this was not in the plans, but sometimes God decides to answer prayers more quickly than scheduled, and i will most likely be moving into a studio apt mid-march. it's super cute, definitely not too small, and only 500 per month WITH utilities. um, yeah. pretty unheard in boston, at least from what i've been looking at.

more news: i don't have any more news, it just made the title flow better. i prefer sound over accuracy.

american idol: i love this show. is that bad? plus now my parents have TiVo so i won't miss it. even when i move out i'm TiVoing shows and coming over to watch them. what? i could do without all the filler but i really like hearing everyone sing. here are my favorites (and saying this will probably jinx them, so don't get used to them):

chris sligh: the token "i don't look like an idol" contestant. he sings AWESOMELY, and he's snarky, which is always good. last night he made a dig at Simon that was way better than the usual "well, blah blah i think i was awesome, blah blah wait to see what america says blah," proven by the fact that Simon was silenced and thereafter grumpier than usual.

blake lewis: the beatboxer. i just like it that he beatboxes. and so frickin' well. he can sing too, not as awesomely as chris, but not too shabby.

a.j. tablado: just fun. sang well without seeming nervous, and bounced around dancing without it looking forced. this is also his FIFTH time at Idol. so he's determined. and look at his little popped up collar!

sanjaya malakar: ok. i admit it. me liking him has very little to do with the fact that he can sing, although he can, and rivals chris with awesomeness. it has more to do with the fact that his smile takes up his whole face and when he found out he was put through and his sister (who he auditioned with) was cut he immediately went to go find her and gave her a huge hug and definitely had his moment dampened by the fact that his sister wouldn't be with him and he CRIED. and then i almost cried.

nick pedro: really nervous. didn't sound that great. and wearing a typical boy-in-a-bar-on-a-saturday-night outfit. but he's from taunton, MA! and he looks like...someone i know...can't think...oh!...lachey brother who's not nick! drew! i don't know why i knew that. but see for yourself-->. i'm not supporting him because he looks like drew lachey. more because he has a boston accent and he seems like he doesn't know what the heck happened to him and why he's on stage in front of a million people.

the rest of the guys i think are ok, but i checked my email which i was watching them. no one really hurt my ears (much). i do like that paul kim is such a strong singer, because i don't know if they've ever had an asian male in the top 24 (but i could be totally wrong), so the fact that he and sanjaya (who i think is east indian) are still in is cool to me. i don't get his barefootedness, though, or the fact that he did hip hop gestures to a George Michael song.

stay tuned for the assessment of the women tomorrow.

the fight for feminism, 3 year old style.

2007-02-19T14:28:00.000-05:00

today my parents and i did some emergency babysitting for a family at our church, 2 boys, 10 and 9, and a girl, 3. i had the idea that we would all make monkey bread, which is a fun dessert to make, takes more time than a cake, tastes really good, and was always popular at the after school program i worked at.

the little girl was the only one that wanted to help make the monkey bread, mostly because the boys were in my dad's model train room, which i will admit is pretty cool, and she, at first, wasn't interested in that. so while we were making it we had this conversation.

LG [little girl]: the girls are cooking and the boys are playing.
me: [thinking] teachable moment! teachable moment! say something that makes her forget stereotypes forever!
LG: [after my prolonged anxiety ridden silence] girls cook and boys play.
me: well, not all the time. there are boys who like cooking too.
LG: and sometimes i play because i'm little.
me: that's right.
LG: but mostly girls cook.
me: well, sometimes, uh, there are, um, well, boys...
LG: i'm just kidding
me: you're just kidding?
LG: i can spell "on". O-N.

and that was it. but it made me think about how i will do things and what i will say when i become a mom. my parents didn't really do anything to debunk male-female stereotypes (but didn't go overboard to support them, either -- although i did get roses on my wallpaper when i asked for trucks) and yet, here i am, a feminist. i wonder if there are parents out there who did work to debunk the stereotypes who now have children who support them. food for thought.

i prefer captain blunder and the awkward silences.

2007-02-15T14:27:00.000-05:00

let it be known: i disagree with this assessment. but i guess most of my answers (like, i don't seek revenge, i do care if my actions hurt innocent bystanders) don't really qualify me as a supervillian anyway.

Your results:
You are Mystique

Mystique		44%
The Joker		40%
Poison Ivy		39%
Magneto		37%
Apocalypse		33%
Dr. Doom		31%
Lex Luthor		31%
Riddler		30%
Dark Phoenix		28%
Mr. Freeze		25%
Catwoman		23%
Venom		21%
Green Goblin		12%
Juggernaut		12%
Two-Face		12%
Kingpin		7%

Sometimes motherly, sometimes a beautiful companion, but most of the time a deceiving vixen.

Click here to take the "Which Super Villain are you?" quiz...

a word about love from dr. quinn medicine woman

2007-02-14T21:29:00.000-05:00

I am reminded of a story. It seems a young frog was trying to win the heart of a porcupine. His father said to him, "My son, how can you fall in love with a porcupine?" The young frog replied, "The skunk would not have me."

happy valentine's day, playas.

don't call me july 21

2007-02-02T09:23:00.000-05:00

that's right, it's pre-ordered.

working woman

2007-01-29T11:54:00.000-05:00

ok, before i get started on this, i just have to say that some weird (and some slightly offensive) crap can pop up when you google "working woman." i was thisclose to putting up a picture of Maid Barbie, just for irony's sake, but i couldn't do it. sorry, irony!

so no picture for this post. but this exciting news: i got a job! i will be working part time (with hopes to move to full time by sept. or next jan.) as a youth pastor at a great (multicultural, socially concious) church with great kids. i will have 4 weeks vacation, full health (now i can get sick or break my leg or something), and the chance to preach (with extra pay so it won't interfere with my youth work hours).

next step: apartments!

this may earn me a lecture...

2007-01-25T20:54:00.000-05:00

so this past week i had a friend staying with me.

a friend who wanted to see all the historicity boston has to offer.

so i did some things for the first time:
the freedom trail (YES, i know. i am from boston. i have seen almost all of the things on the freedom trail separately, on their own. i have never, however, seen them while sticking religiously to the red line.) we actually only made it half way through because it was so frickin' cold and my friend was only in a fleece. i was frozen in my sleeping bag (coat) so it must have sucked for him.

*side note: i never get tired of looking at old gravestones. which i realized there are a LOT of in boston and surrounding areas. does this make me weird? in concord there's an old graveyard with a gravestone of a slave who bought his own freedom, written by an abolitionist lawyer. it's pretty interesting. google "john jack" and concord.

walden pond (YES, i know. i am a writer and an english major). did you know thoreau's little walden spot was only a half-hour walk from his parents' house? i bet he went home for laundry and dinner all the time. (just kidding, henry!)

the maine coastal route. to get to colby i usually just shot up 95, but we took this way up to freeport. there are pretty points, but it doesn't really hug the coastline the way route 1 in CA does, and it's kind of hard to follow (does a lot of twists and turns in small towns and i got lost, of course).

other things we saw (but weren't firsts for me): boston's north end, salem witch/wax museum, l.l. bean, emack & bolio's, my church.