Friday, March 26, 2004
Life without blogging
I explored what life might be like without blogging, involuntarily. My computer broke down, and while I could tell you the whole story, it is just as boring as you suspect it might be. Life without a computer opened up quite a bit of time for me. I do have a computer at Bethel, but I vowed to avoid my office this week. I read more, I visited the Humane Society (I sit on the floor in the cat room and watch cats live their lives), I watched Chuck Norris give his testimony on TBN, and I walked in the woods near my house. A pleasant Spring Break. But I missed you all, so I'm glad to be back in the blog-iverse.
I started The Sacred Journey, and am enjoying it. I don't really understand how a family that is barely making it financially still has servants, but that must be an idiosyncracy of white life in the East during the 1930s. I am eager to read of how he becomes aware of the Lord seeking him - haven't gotten that far yet.
I've nearly finished Return to Nisa. She is an old woman now, reflecting on her life. All of her children died, and so did her husband, and that is her greatest regret. One of my favorite aspects of !Kung culture is that the !Kung are a highly cooperative and egalitarian culture, so they accuse each other of stinginess all the time. The accusations of stinginess create social norms for sharing (to avoid the accusations). The anthropologist shows up after two decades, and Nisa says, "You left and never came back. I will die alone here without you. What did you bring me?" I think it's similar to the way we debase and shame the poor - it strengthens the social norm for private property and wealth accumulation. Marjorie Shostak, the author, is going to die of breast cancer by the time the book ends.
I see reality all around me today. Nisa lost her entire family to various illnesses and lives with grief, but she does, in fact live. Marjorie Shostak kept learning about the world and its women even during her demise. Frederick Buechner spends decades reflecting on his father's suicide, and becomes more human and more loving for dwelling on such sadness. Nubby, a mangy cat at the humane society, is missing both ear tips and half his tail, probably to hypothermia. Despite impaired balance, he plays with a ball and trots around as if he is just as beautiful as the able-bodied cats. And, this morning, I see lilacs, roses (thanks to Marlene and Mary), daffodils, and rhubarb sprouting in my yard. I thought winter might do us all in, but here we all are again in the spring. We who survive grow in the humus made of those who die, and someday we will become humus for others.
I explored what life might be like without blogging, involuntarily. My computer broke down, and while I could tell you the whole story, it is just as boring as you suspect it might be. Life without a computer opened up quite a bit of time for me. I do have a computer at Bethel, but I vowed to avoid my office this week. I read more, I visited the Humane Society (I sit on the floor in the cat room and watch cats live their lives), I watched Chuck Norris give his testimony on TBN, and I walked in the woods near my house. A pleasant Spring Break. But I missed you all, so I'm glad to be back in the blog-iverse.
I started The Sacred Journey, and am enjoying it. I don't really understand how a family that is barely making it financially still has servants, but that must be an idiosyncracy of white life in the East during the 1930s. I am eager to read of how he becomes aware of the Lord seeking him - haven't gotten that far yet.
I've nearly finished Return to Nisa. She is an old woman now, reflecting on her life. All of her children died, and so did her husband, and that is her greatest regret. One of my favorite aspects of !Kung culture is that the !Kung are a highly cooperative and egalitarian culture, so they accuse each other of stinginess all the time. The accusations of stinginess create social norms for sharing (to avoid the accusations). The anthropologist shows up after two decades, and Nisa says, "You left and never came back. I will die alone here without you. What did you bring me?" I think it's similar to the way we debase and shame the poor - it strengthens the social norm for private property and wealth accumulation. Marjorie Shostak, the author, is going to die of breast cancer by the time the book ends.
I see reality all around me today. Nisa lost her entire family to various illnesses and lives with grief, but she does, in fact live. Marjorie Shostak kept learning about the world and its women even during her demise. Frederick Buechner spends decades reflecting on his father's suicide, and becomes more human and more loving for dwelling on such sadness. Nubby, a mangy cat at the humane society, is missing both ear tips and half his tail, probably to hypothermia. Despite impaired balance, he plays with a ball and trots around as if he is just as beautiful as the able-bodied cats. And, this morning, I see lilacs, roses (thanks to Marlene and Mary), daffodils, and rhubarb sprouting in my yard. I thought winter might do us all in, but here we all are again in the spring. We who survive grow in the humus made of those who die, and someday we will become humus for others.
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
And the Lord said, "Can I find just two good women in the land?"
Kathleen Norris. Her husband, David Dwyer, died last October from respiratory problems. She writes about their relationship in Amazing Grace. He struggled with physical health and severe depression over and over, and it was hard for their marriage. She writes about this, and about how she discovered Christianity and pursued it, but he didn't. She said that other Christians thought this 'unequal yoking' would be very hard for her. She said that Christianity is all about loving people more, and wouldn't that be good for her marriage? She said she became a more loving person, and more accepting of him, because of her faith, and so Christianity was a blessing for their life together. How sad that death has parted them. He was a poet, but I couldn't find much of his writing on-line. Here's one poem about war.
And if she's not a great public speaker, what do I care? (of course, I'm not the one who spent good money to have her come to a conference!). I am easily tempted to play a role and enjoy the spotlight when I speak in public. It's hard to have integrity in both public and private - to be the same person regardless of venue. It's encouraging to hear of someone who seems unable to play roles for an audience - maybe she's just the same person, regardless of whether that persona is effective in a particular context.
Marjorie Shostak. She wrote Nisa, a life story ethnography about a !Kung woman from Botswana. The !Kung are the hunter-gatherer people in southern Africa of "The Gods Must be Crazy" fame. Marjorie was a late 1960s feminist, and went to the most extremely different culture still present in our world to discover the universal bonds that tie all women together in ur-solidarity. She found, of course, that women are very different from each other, and that while she has much in common with Nisa, they also have insurmountable cultural differences between them.
Fourteen years after her first fieldwork, Marjorie developed breast cancer, while still breastfeeding her third child. She had a compelling urge to go back to spend time with the !Kung, and so she went to Botswana for a month. This is written up in Return to Nisa, a lovely book I'm reading now. This is a better feminism than The Secret Life of Bees. It's about women as they really are, in their cultures and with their men and families. I'll write more as I keep reading.
Self-interested question of the day: Have you read an anthropology book that you really liked (an ethnography about another culture)? Can you even remember what you read in Anthropology 101? I'm looking for a compelling, well-written ethnography to use next fall in Intro to Anthro. Last year I used a terrible book about the Nuer. I may use Return to Nisa, but what have you read?
Second self-interested question: If I were to read Buechner (don't get too excited, Jimmy, it's just an 'if'!), where should I begin?
Kathleen Norris. Her husband, David Dwyer, died last October from respiratory problems. She writes about their relationship in Amazing Grace. He struggled with physical health and severe depression over and over, and it was hard for their marriage. She writes about this, and about how she discovered Christianity and pursued it, but he didn't. She said that other Christians thought this 'unequal yoking' would be very hard for her. She said that Christianity is all about loving people more, and wouldn't that be good for her marriage? She said she became a more loving person, and more accepting of him, because of her faith, and so Christianity was a blessing for their life together. How sad that death has parted them. He was a poet, but I couldn't find much of his writing on-line. Here's one poem about war.
And if she's not a great public speaker, what do I care? (of course, I'm not the one who spent good money to have her come to a conference!). I am easily tempted to play a role and enjoy the spotlight when I speak in public. It's hard to have integrity in both public and private - to be the same person regardless of venue. It's encouraging to hear of someone who seems unable to play roles for an audience - maybe she's just the same person, regardless of whether that persona is effective in a particular context.
Marjorie Shostak. She wrote Nisa, a life story ethnography about a !Kung woman from Botswana. The !Kung are the hunter-gatherer people in southern Africa of "The Gods Must be Crazy" fame. Marjorie was a late 1960s feminist, and went to the most extremely different culture still present in our world to discover the universal bonds that tie all women together in ur-solidarity. She found, of course, that women are very different from each other, and that while she has much in common with Nisa, they also have insurmountable cultural differences between them.
Fourteen years after her first fieldwork, Marjorie developed breast cancer, while still breastfeeding her third child. She had a compelling urge to go back to spend time with the !Kung, and so she went to Botswana for a month. This is written up in Return to Nisa, a lovely book I'm reading now. This is a better feminism than The Secret Life of Bees. It's about women as they really are, in their cultures and with their men and families. I'll write more as I keep reading.
Self-interested question of the day: Have you read an anthropology book that you really liked (an ethnography about another culture)? Can you even remember what you read in Anthropology 101? I'm looking for a compelling, well-written ethnography to use next fall in Intro to Anthro. Last year I used a terrible book about the Nuer. I may use Return to Nisa, but what have you read?
Second self-interested question: If I were to read Buechner (don't get too excited, Jimmy, it's just an 'if'!), where should I begin?
Monday, March 22, 2004
A Dream, a Book, and Opal
Dream.
I enjoy reading about Anna's dreams (not sure if I'm supposed to link to her or not so I won't). I've been working on my subconscious in therapy, and it's changed my dreams. The other night, in my dream, I was a small faithful Christian. Two large accusers came and shouted at me, "God doesn't love you. Just look at Daniel 3. If he loved you, he wouldn't have killed your babies." I said, with both fear and confidence like the guy in Pilgrim's Progress, "God's presence is with me and with my babies. He loves us and is with us whether we live or die. God's love covers the living and the dead."
It was a blessing of a dream. The spiritual landscape I was taught as a child is surfacing. Characters, colors (mostly racialized, unfortunately), places, scriptures, and words squeeze through cracks in my consciousness. Even things that I would say I no longer believe still live in my imagination. Fascinating.
Book. I finished The Secret Life of Bees this morning. I really liked it, except for the feminist parts about women's unique spiritual power and women clutching each other, mothering each other, sharing womyn's incredible knowledge and insight, and enjoying their naked bodies in a nonsexual way. Hooey. I prefer stories about men and women finding God and finding themselves together, as life really is.
Opal. Without my knowledge, Opal learned Irish dancing and was practicing it on my sleeping body last week during the night. The cats are now banned from our bedroom entirely at night. I said to James, "It's like sleeping in a hotel!" We both are sleeping better than we have for three years. But to Opal I say, "I'm sorry. It's all James' idea." Ruby doesn't really care about it one way or the other.
I'm going to do some stalking today - try to learn about Kathleen Norris' husband's death. Kathleen Norris. Kathleen Norris. Kathleen Norris. Maybe if I write her name many times, she'll find my blog next time she googles herself. Then she can know how much I love her. Tell me who you're in love with right now, in a foolish "I love you and all your ideas" kind of way. Your intellectual, theological, or literary heartthrobs at the moment.
Dream.
I enjoy reading about Anna's dreams (not sure if I'm supposed to link to her or not so I won't). I've been working on my subconscious in therapy, and it's changed my dreams. The other night, in my dream, I was a small faithful Christian. Two large accusers came and shouted at me, "God doesn't love you. Just look at Daniel 3. If he loved you, he wouldn't have killed your babies." I said, with both fear and confidence like the guy in Pilgrim's Progress, "God's presence is with me and with my babies. He loves us and is with us whether we live or die. God's love covers the living and the dead."
It was a blessing of a dream. The spiritual landscape I was taught as a child is surfacing. Characters, colors (mostly racialized, unfortunately), places, scriptures, and words squeeze through cracks in my consciousness. Even things that I would say I no longer believe still live in my imagination. Fascinating.
Book. I finished The Secret Life of Bees this morning. I really liked it, except for the feminist parts about women's unique spiritual power and women clutching each other, mothering each other, sharing womyn's incredible knowledge and insight, and enjoying their naked bodies in a nonsexual way. Hooey. I prefer stories about men and women finding God and finding themselves together, as life really is.
Opal. Without my knowledge, Opal learned Irish dancing and was practicing it on my sleeping body last week during the night. The cats are now banned from our bedroom entirely at night. I said to James, "It's like sleeping in a hotel!" We both are sleeping better than we have for three years. But to Opal I say, "I'm sorry. It's all James' idea." Ruby doesn't really care about it one way or the other.
I'm going to do some stalking today - try to learn about Kathleen Norris' husband's death. Kathleen Norris. Kathleen Norris. Kathleen Norris. Maybe if I write her name many times, she'll find my blog next time she googles herself. Then she can know how much I love her. Tell me who you're in love with right now, in a foolish "I love you and all your ideas" kind of way. Your intellectual, theological, or literary heartthrobs at the moment.
Friday, March 19, 2004
Spring-break-irific!
I declared Spring Break for myself last night, one day before it officially begins at school. People everywhere, get yourself a job that includes Spring Break!
I consulted with a Bible scholar yesterday (Mike Holmes, the preacher at the memorial service), and he added to my arguments against marriage of the spirit. He said that the Romans didn't record the weddings of the non-citizens, poor, and marginal. There were no legal weddings for Jews, so the Jews had their own public, communal wedding ceremonies. It's only been a few hundred years that church and state weddings have overlapped as they do in the U.S. More often, the church has its own wedding procedures that the state may or may not record or observe. Christianity has always considered marriage to be a public act that is part of a broader community - marriage of the spirit is probably not what Jesus or Paul were referring to when they spoke of "fulfillment of the law" and "letter v. spirit of the law." And, of course Robert Buck is right - this is all an argument about sex, more than it is even about marriage.
Rachel wrote wonderful comments about marriage, children, sex, and longing. My colleague Lisa McMinn (sociology at Wheaton) wrote a new book titled "Sexuality and Holy Longing." It's like "Sex for Christians", but better. Really, I just like the title. She says intimate desire is never perfectly fulfilled - the area of sexuality and intimate relationships is part of our lives where everyone experiences both deep longing and deep disappointment (though some people much more than others). Part of human experience is longing for completion, for redemption, and living our entire lives without it, or just with glimpses of it. She sees both the goodness of God's creation and its brokenness everywhere, rather than splitting things into "singleness - bad", "marriage - good."
I'm not writing this to patronize single people, but to encourage myself. I see such a long road ahead of James and I, no matter what the outcome. Along with peoples' affection that is focused on us (cards, food, love, etc.), it is a deep encouragement simply to live life with others who also long for the good gifts of God and live without. There are long roads ahead of many of us, and to me, this feels like solidarity. The suffering is not a gift, and I'd take it away from myself or any of you if I could, but I'm also grateful that God gives us perspective, solidarity, friendship, and grace as we suffer. And sometimes we can receive His gifts with even more gratitude because we're so desperate for anything good to hold in our hands.
Question for the day: Did you go to the Emergent conference? What happened with Kathleen Norris? Someone else's blog (forgot whose) implied that people didn't like her. I love her. She is writer-rific, blog-irific, and she should be emergent-rific.
I declared Spring Break for myself last night, one day before it officially begins at school. People everywhere, get yourself a job that includes Spring Break!
I consulted with a Bible scholar yesterday (Mike Holmes, the preacher at the memorial service), and he added to my arguments against marriage of the spirit. He said that the Romans didn't record the weddings of the non-citizens, poor, and marginal. There were no legal weddings for Jews, so the Jews had their own public, communal wedding ceremonies. It's only been a few hundred years that church and state weddings have overlapped as they do in the U.S. More often, the church has its own wedding procedures that the state may or may not record or observe. Christianity has always considered marriage to be a public act that is part of a broader community - marriage of the spirit is probably not what Jesus or Paul were referring to when they spoke of "fulfillment of the law" and "letter v. spirit of the law." And, of course Robert Buck is right - this is all an argument about sex, more than it is even about marriage.
Rachel wrote wonderful comments about marriage, children, sex, and longing. My colleague Lisa McMinn (sociology at Wheaton) wrote a new book titled "Sexuality and Holy Longing." It's like "Sex for Christians", but better. Really, I just like the title. She says intimate desire is never perfectly fulfilled - the area of sexuality and intimate relationships is part of our lives where everyone experiences both deep longing and deep disappointment (though some people much more than others). Part of human experience is longing for completion, for redemption, and living our entire lives without it, or just with glimpses of it. She sees both the goodness of God's creation and its brokenness everywhere, rather than splitting things into "singleness - bad", "marriage - good."
I'm not writing this to patronize single people, but to encourage myself. I see such a long road ahead of James and I, no matter what the outcome. Along with peoples' affection that is focused on us (cards, food, love, etc.), it is a deep encouragement simply to live life with others who also long for the good gifts of God and live without. There are long roads ahead of many of us, and to me, this feels like solidarity. The suffering is not a gift, and I'd take it away from myself or any of you if I could, but I'm also grateful that God gives us perspective, solidarity, friendship, and grace as we suffer. And sometimes we can receive His gifts with even more gratitude because we're so desperate for anything good to hold in our hands.
Question for the day: Did you go to the Emergent conference? What happened with Kathleen Norris? Someone else's blog (forgot whose) implied that people didn't like her. I love her. She is writer-rific, blog-irific, and she should be emergent-rific.
Thursday, March 18, 2004
No laughing please. Not even a smile or a giggle.
I've lost my humor for awhile - not a scrap of it to be found. I'm not particularly depressed, just working too much. I think all my energy has gone to work and none is left for fun. If you want humor, read Will Ferrel's Harvard commencement speech linked off KP's blog - that was funny. Keep reading here if, for God only knows what reason, you want to explore my thoughts today.
These thoughts are related to a Bethel situation, and please don't think I'm talking about church in a round-about way, because even though I probably am, it's not intentional. A student asked me (in public, so it's OK to blog about it) about what Jesus meant by the spirit of the law. "If Christians are supposed to live by the spirit of the law, then why can't my boyfriend and I get married in our hearts? The marriage ceremony has to be timed for the convenience of family and friends, but we're ready to be married now, and isn't the marriage in our hearts the truest marriage, according to Jesus?"
On a pragmatic level, I said I think this approach is too prone to self-deception. A couple may tell themselves they are more committed to each other than they really are, and either individual may do that as well, especially under pressure of sexual desire. This "spirit marriage" also removes marriage from community and makes it entirely personal, which makes the 'marriage' vulnerable because it has no social support. I also told her that I speak from experience - I had dated someone for 5 1/2 years, and we planned to be married, but then he dumped me. From this, I think you aren't really married until the ring is on your finger (with James, we seized the day and had a short engagement!). James and I could split, but our legal marriage makes that much more difficult than Scott just breaking off an informal but serious dating relationship.
But what did Jesus mean and not mean by the letter and spirit of the law? Does this argument even speak to the legality of marriage? Three of my ideas - please critique them -
1) Jesus wasn't talking about Roman law or state law. He was talking about the true meaning of religious law. I don't think he meant that individuals should handle matters ranging from anger to murder, and that violence should be no longer a matter of the state. In America, we may need to increasingly build up our religious marriage "laws", but it doesn't mean we abandon the state altogether.
2) We might be reading our culture into Jesus' words when we radically individualize the sermon on the mount. Jesus was concerned that people were making religious law too small and too technical, and he said it really is large and spiritual. "Getting married in our hearts" seems like a radically individualized and narrowing of the law - I think marriage is public and communal - a commitment that by its very nature needs many people involved.
3) Nowhere in church tradition have people understood Jesus' words to be reducing the necessity of public, ceremonial, legal marriage. Even before there was legal marriage in Europe, they did it ceremonially through the church (correct me if I'm wrong). Sometimes we need to break with tradition, but on this one, I think tradition might be right, and Americans Christians might be too American in their thinking.
What do you think? I need to get back with this student and talk to her about it, but I'm not sure what direction to take it. I'm going to consult with a Bible scholar too, about what Jesus meant with the spirit/letter deal.
Peace to everyone today. You must just love me if you're reading this - there is plenty of better stuff out there in the virtual world!
I've lost my humor for awhile - not a scrap of it to be found. I'm not particularly depressed, just working too much. I think all my energy has gone to work and none is left for fun. If you want humor, read Will Ferrel's Harvard commencement speech linked off KP's blog - that was funny. Keep reading here if, for God only knows what reason, you want to explore my thoughts today.
These thoughts are related to a Bethel situation, and please don't think I'm talking about church in a round-about way, because even though I probably am, it's not intentional. A student asked me (in public, so it's OK to blog about it) about what Jesus meant by the spirit of the law. "If Christians are supposed to live by the spirit of the law, then why can't my boyfriend and I get married in our hearts? The marriage ceremony has to be timed for the convenience of family and friends, but we're ready to be married now, and isn't the marriage in our hearts the truest marriage, according to Jesus?"
On a pragmatic level, I said I think this approach is too prone to self-deception. A couple may tell themselves they are more committed to each other than they really are, and either individual may do that as well, especially under pressure of sexual desire. This "spirit marriage" also removes marriage from community and makes it entirely personal, which makes the 'marriage' vulnerable because it has no social support. I also told her that I speak from experience - I had dated someone for 5 1/2 years, and we planned to be married, but then he dumped me. From this, I think you aren't really married until the ring is on your finger (with James, we seized the day and had a short engagement!). James and I could split, but our legal marriage makes that much more difficult than Scott just breaking off an informal but serious dating relationship.
But what did Jesus mean and not mean by the letter and spirit of the law? Does this argument even speak to the legality of marriage? Three of my ideas - please critique them -
1) Jesus wasn't talking about Roman law or state law. He was talking about the true meaning of religious law. I don't think he meant that individuals should handle matters ranging from anger to murder, and that violence should be no longer a matter of the state. In America, we may need to increasingly build up our religious marriage "laws", but it doesn't mean we abandon the state altogether.
2) We might be reading our culture into Jesus' words when we radically individualize the sermon on the mount. Jesus was concerned that people were making religious law too small and too technical, and he said it really is large and spiritual. "Getting married in our hearts" seems like a radically individualized and narrowing of the law - I think marriage is public and communal - a commitment that by its very nature needs many people involved.
3) Nowhere in church tradition have people understood Jesus' words to be reducing the necessity of public, ceremonial, legal marriage. Even before there was legal marriage in Europe, they did it ceremonially through the church (correct me if I'm wrong). Sometimes we need to break with tradition, but on this one, I think tradition might be right, and Americans Christians might be too American in their thinking.
What do you think? I need to get back with this student and talk to her about it, but I'm not sure what direction to take it. I'm going to consult with a Bible scholar too, about what Jesus meant with the spirit/letter deal.
Peace to everyone today. You must just love me if you're reading this - there is plenty of better stuff out there in the virtual world!
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
Just lie back and think of Jesus
Last night I gave a talk about sex to the Bethel students at an evening student forum. As usual, I fight pride and puffed-up-ness as I always do when I get to enjoy a spotlight. I also feel humble in talking about lust and masturbation to men (chances are, they're the ones who wrote those questions). Seems my perspective is fundamentally limited, but perhaps I can at least give the impression that it can be safe to ask such questions. It felt really good, though, to feel that my sons, and the God who gave them to me, have changed my faith in some profound ways. I didn't talk about them or about grief, but the changes come through when I talk about anything of God.
Afterwards, a student stayed after to ask me about grief (though it wasn't the topic, students had prayed for my family in chapel last fall, so everyone knows what happened to me, and this student had also suffered a recent death of a loved one). She said she tries hard to monitor her thoughts because she knows that thoughts of jealousy, despair, or bitterness are sinful. I was so sad for her. I tried to suggest to her that grief is grief, and why would God sit up there judging and smashing us when we're already down? I said I can't get past negative feelings without just fully feeling them -when I give them lots of attention, they seem to be satisfied and then eventually go away. When I repress them and judge them as sinful or not, then they keep sneaking back on me.
I just felt terribly for her. Then I came home and went to bed. In my dream, an imposingly large Christian appeared and told me it is a sin to keep my babies' urns. He said I had to get rid of them and forget about them, or else I was sinning. It pisses me off that we keep repeating this horrid theology, and that despite years of trying to grow healthy, all the bullshit is still in my memory and subconscious and can be triggered.
But, of course, whenever there is a public forum on sex, there is good humor...
College Students Say the Darndest Things
My favorite questions of the night:
1. When married people have sex, are they supposed to just think of Jesus through the whole sex act?
2. What do you like about African-American Christianity?
Last night I gave a talk about sex to the Bethel students at an evening student forum. As usual, I fight pride and puffed-up-ness as I always do when I get to enjoy a spotlight. I also feel humble in talking about lust and masturbation to men (chances are, they're the ones who wrote those questions). Seems my perspective is fundamentally limited, but perhaps I can at least give the impression that it can be safe to ask such questions. It felt really good, though, to feel that my sons, and the God who gave them to me, have changed my faith in some profound ways. I didn't talk about them or about grief, but the changes come through when I talk about anything of God.
Afterwards, a student stayed after to ask me about grief (though it wasn't the topic, students had prayed for my family in chapel last fall, so everyone knows what happened to me, and this student had also suffered a recent death of a loved one). She said she tries hard to monitor her thoughts because she knows that thoughts of jealousy, despair, or bitterness are sinful. I was so sad for her. I tried to suggest to her that grief is grief, and why would God sit up there judging and smashing us when we're already down? I said I can't get past negative feelings without just fully feeling them -when I give them lots of attention, they seem to be satisfied and then eventually go away. When I repress them and judge them as sinful or not, then they keep sneaking back on me.
I just felt terribly for her. Then I came home and went to bed. In my dream, an imposingly large Christian appeared and told me it is a sin to keep my babies' urns. He said I had to get rid of them and forget about them, or else I was sinning. It pisses me off that we keep repeating this horrid theology, and that despite years of trying to grow healthy, all the bullshit is still in my memory and subconscious and can be triggered.
But, of course, whenever there is a public forum on sex, there is good humor...
College Students Say the Darndest Things
My favorite questions of the night:
1. When married people have sex, are they supposed to just think of Jesus through the whole sex act?
2. What do you like about African-American Christianity?
Monday, March 15, 2004
Things I Learned This Weekend.
1. Fermenting pineapple creates gas that makes the tupperware pop upon opening with a powerful sound and twisted smell.
2. Lentil soup can be left out for days without smelling bad.
3. Plain yogurt separates its flavor. The sour flavor separates out and gains a lot of strength.
4. Rotting meat smells just like it tastes when vomited.
5. A few pieces of lettuce left in tupperware for days are no problem.
Public announcement. James, who neither reads nor creates blogs, asked that a public announcement be put out to the blogiverse. I'll leave it in quotes to preserve its accuracy. "Those blog people should know that you also heat tomato-based sauces in plastic containers in the microwave, and then hide them in the dishwasher instead of scrubbing the stains off." There you go.
Comment: Feats of strength?
Hugo ran a marathon this weekend. What was your feat of strength accomplished this weekend? I slept in until 7:30 on Saturday, and still managed to take two naps during the day. That was remarkable for me.
1. Fermenting pineapple creates gas that makes the tupperware pop upon opening with a powerful sound and twisted smell.
2. Lentil soup can be left out for days without smelling bad.
3. Plain yogurt separates its flavor. The sour flavor separates out and gains a lot of strength.
4. Rotting meat smells just like it tastes when vomited.
5. A few pieces of lettuce left in tupperware for days are no problem.
Public announcement. James, who neither reads nor creates blogs, asked that a public announcement be put out to the blogiverse. I'll leave it in quotes to preserve its accuracy. "Those blog people should know that you also heat tomato-based sauces in plastic containers in the microwave, and then hide them in the dishwasher instead of scrubbing the stains off." There you go.
Comment: Feats of strength?
Hugo ran a marathon this weekend. What was your feat of strength accomplished this weekend? I slept in until 7:30 on Saturday, and still managed to take two naps during the day. That was remarkable for me.
Friday, March 12, 2004
Can You Help Save This Marriage?
Please help me settle a marital dispute, one in which I am clearly in the right. I work VERY HARD at my job, and on Mondays, I take both my lunch and dinner to work b/c I have a night class. I left my tupperware in my office for two days, and brought it home Wednesday. This morning, Friday, there are still five containers with rotting remains: curried beef, yogurt, pineapple, vegetables, and lentil soup. James has cleaned the entire kitchen twice, but the containers are still sitting on the counter.
He says, "You can't just pass off your rotting food on me."
I said, "If you really loved me, you'd clean my rotting food."
He said, "Get over yourself."
I said, "That doesn't feel like love."
Who is right? Should I clean my own tupperware, or leave it sitting out as a test of his love for me? I'm prepared to wait it out.
College Students Say the Darndest Things
Three women students are sitting in a student lounge. I, too, am sitting in the lounge reading...er... eavesdropping.
Woman 1: I think Christians are better looking than other people.
Woman 2: What?!
Woman 1 (waving arms): Just look around! These people are very attractive!
Woman 3: Well, at least they're clean-cut.
Woman 2: Yea, for sure.
My Day Begins
Strengthened by your encouragements, I'm going to write now. Right now. Here I go. Don't try to stop me.
Please help me settle a marital dispute, one in which I am clearly in the right. I work VERY HARD at my job, and on Mondays, I take both my lunch and dinner to work b/c I have a night class. I left my tupperware in my office for two days, and brought it home Wednesday. This morning, Friday, there are still five containers with rotting remains: curried beef, yogurt, pineapple, vegetables, and lentil soup. James has cleaned the entire kitchen twice, but the containers are still sitting on the counter.
He says, "You can't just pass off your rotting food on me."
I said, "If you really loved me, you'd clean my rotting food."
He said, "Get over yourself."
I said, "That doesn't feel like love."
Who is right? Should I clean my own tupperware, or leave it sitting out as a test of his love for me? I'm prepared to wait it out.
College Students Say the Darndest Things
Three women students are sitting in a student lounge. I, too, am sitting in the lounge reading...er... eavesdropping.
Woman 1: I think Christians are better looking than other people.
Woman 2: What?!
Woman 1 (waving arms): Just look around! These people are very attractive!
Woman 3: Well, at least they're clean-cut.
Woman 2: Yea, for sure.
My Day Begins
Strengthened by your encouragements, I'm going to write now. Right now. Here I go. Don't try to stop me.
Thursday, March 11, 2004
A Below-Average Blog
Dayton's -- I mean Marshall Field's -- is up for sale. Somehow Marshall Field's is a point of stability in my childhood memory, even though it is just a store and we rarely shopped there. It's disturbing that its name changed, and now that it's being sold.
I'm blogging late today because I taught an extra night class last night for a colleague who is out of town. I tried to sleep in, but still I'm really tired. It's so much easier to come in as a guest speaker than to have the class for the whole semester. I teach better as a guest - I think I give it all my energy, rather than thinking about what needs to happen in the next class sessions. Our topic was homosexuality. I let them make collages, which always seems to be a hit.
I didn't write last Friday, which is my Lenten practice. I'm afraid to write badly on the topic of suffering, so I just want to keep the thought in my head where they look so good. My writing is all about Romans 5, the text for the sermon most of you heard a few weeks ago. I plan to stay home tomorrow and write, no matter what.
If you'd like to comment today, here's two ideas-
1. Offer me some encouragement for writing tomorrow.
2. Tell me something you're looking forward to in the next 24 hours.
I'm looking forward to not going in to the office tomorrow.
Dayton's -- I mean Marshall Field's -- is up for sale. Somehow Marshall Field's is a point of stability in my childhood memory, even though it is just a store and we rarely shopped there. It's disturbing that its name changed, and now that it's being sold.
I'm blogging late today because I taught an extra night class last night for a colleague who is out of town. I tried to sleep in, but still I'm really tired. It's so much easier to come in as a guest speaker than to have the class for the whole semester. I teach better as a guest - I think I give it all my energy, rather than thinking about what needs to happen in the next class sessions. Our topic was homosexuality. I let them make collages, which always seems to be a hit.
I didn't write last Friday, which is my Lenten practice. I'm afraid to write badly on the topic of suffering, so I just want to keep the thought in my head where they look so good. My writing is all about Romans 5, the text for the sermon most of you heard a few weeks ago. I plan to stay home tomorrow and write, no matter what.
If you'd like to comment today, here's two ideas-
1. Offer me some encouragement for writing tomorrow.
2. Tell me something you're looking forward to in the next 24 hours.
I'm looking forward to not going in to the office tomorrow.
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
If you had to choose...
If you had to choose between being a hot athlete or having a normal name, which would you pick? Laugh no more at Gary Heffelfinger - he's an award-winning skater!
My dh ("dear husband" abbreviation on fertility-related discussion boards) works at the Mall of America. We were talking about why people shop so frequently. If it really made them happy, then wouldn't it be satisfying for awhile? Instead, it seems that people pursue happiness, but then have to do it over and over and over - maybe shopping doesn't deliver all that it promises. Of course, the same process happens for sex, but this is as it should be.
When does shopping make you happy? I rarely shop impulsively, but last week I had a hard day and decided to leave work early and shop for a wedding present (shopping for someone else softens the moral finger-pointing in my head). I bought a pig-shaped salsa bowl hand-made in Chili at a just-trade Mennonite store. Then I bought myself some tulips because I liked their shade of pink. Both of these things did, in fact, make me happy, or at least pleased. And now, five days later, when I look at them, they still make me happy.
For you, when has shopping failed to deliver promised happiness, and when has it actually paid off?
And last, a P.S., a posting on March 8 from Christy that was encouraging to me, and maybe to others at the Porch.
If you had to choose between being a hot athlete or having a normal name, which would you pick? Laugh no more at Gary Heffelfinger - he's an award-winning skater!
My dh ("dear husband" abbreviation on fertility-related discussion boards) works at the Mall of America. We were talking about why people shop so frequently. If it really made them happy, then wouldn't it be satisfying for awhile? Instead, it seems that people pursue happiness, but then have to do it over and over and over - maybe shopping doesn't deliver all that it promises. Of course, the same process happens for sex, but this is as it should be.
When does shopping make you happy? I rarely shop impulsively, but last week I had a hard day and decided to leave work early and shop for a wedding present (shopping for someone else softens the moral finger-pointing in my head). I bought a pig-shaped salsa bowl hand-made in Chili at a just-trade Mennonite store. Then I bought myself some tulips because I liked their shade of pink. Both of these things did, in fact, make me happy, or at least pleased. And now, five days later, when I look at them, they still make me happy.
For you, when has shopping failed to deliver promised happiness, and when has it actually paid off?
And last, a P.S., a posting on March 8 from Christy that was encouraging to me, and maybe to others at the Porch.
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
The cake was eaten with Colleen, KP and Anna, and they ate most of it before I even got there.
I ate a lot of chocolate cake last night
Sugar is a powerful healing force in the universe, and I'm grateful for it. I have too much going on, both in the material world and in my mind, to blog today. Somehow I feel obligated to say that, rather than just leave the blog blank.
A few miscellaneous notes about my day, just so you can know what I'm up to:
- I'm going to the Good Earth for lunch.
- James took out the recycling this morning.
- I came up with a brilliant phrase on the spot for Ruby. "What do you want? You can have whatever you want. I love you, and love means giving people whatever they want."
- My skin looks bad today (because I stayed up too late eating chocolate cake).
- The Thomas Kincake puzzle is now sold (ebay), and you all missed out.
Sugar is a powerful healing force in the universe, and I'm grateful for it. I have too much going on, both in the material world and in my mind, to blog today. Somehow I feel obligated to say that, rather than just leave the blog blank.
A few miscellaneous notes about my day, just so you can know what I'm up to:
- I'm going to the Good Earth for lunch.
- James took out the recycling this morning.
- I came up with a brilliant phrase on the spot for Ruby. "What do you want? You can have whatever you want. I love you, and love means giving people whatever they want."
- My skin looks bad today (because I stayed up too late eating chocolate cake).
- The Thomas Kincake puzzle is now sold (ebay), and you all missed out.
Monday, March 08, 2004
Oatmeal cookies and global conspiracies
A bit on fundamentalism, but first, two happenings from the weekend.
1. As an act of mourning, I made Martha Stewart’s perfect oatmeal cookies, and added chocolate chips, pecans, and dried cherries (from Carla’s Bon Appetit). The recipe called for too much butter, and now they are totally flat and crispy. Not inedible (I’m eating one right now), but not perfect. Then I made the oatmeal-raisin cookies off the oatmeal container, and they were much better. Sorry, Martha.
2. Psychological triumph: I set a boundary with someone in my life who doesn’t know boundaries. I cried and threw a tantrum beforehand because I was afraid of people being mad at me, but then moved on. Well, actually James set the boundary by making the difficult phonecall, but I let him do it – so I should get some credit!
Against peoples’ advice to listen to a better radio station (NPR is just so…straightforward and based in reality!), I didn’t listen to the radio and instead read the magazine Prophecy in the News. When I was 16, I read “88 Reasons Why the Rapture will Happen in 1988” and was afraid for that entire year. Now they’re writing prophecy each year based on the psalms – Psalm 104 predicts 2004, for example. I’m not falling for it this year. I did, however, find some beliefs in the magazine, and found a few in my head, to add to the list.
1. Numerology helps us understand the Bible. God has buried mysteries in there that come clear with use of numerology.
2. Haitians can’t be helped because one day, long ago, all the Haitians came together and dedicated their island to Satan.
3. Rock music is based on syncopation from Africa, which is why rock music lets Satan into your soul (Africans obviously being controlled by Satan).
4. African-Americans are cursed because of what Ham did to Noah – no point in trying to help them.
5. The Bible lends itself to chronological charting of the future.
6. God loves you, but he gets mad really easily (look what he did to his son).
7. Bill Clinton is an antichrist figure that parallels Nero.
I don’t want to simply collect an exhaustive list of these beliefs. I’m trying to place the beliefs sociologically, and articulate the worldview that lies behind them. I think the conspiratorial, supernatural, demonic beliefs are held by a subset of fundamentalists and evangelicals, and by a greater percentage of charismatics – is this right, or is my perception as bigoted as number 2,3,4 above? The beliefs about God and the Bible are more mainstream fundamentalism, and they ring in the subconsciousness of many evangelicals.
The worldview behind fundamentalism? The ideology seems to be supported by a number of basic beliefs, some of which are quite contradictory.
1. Nature of God: God loves you and wants to save you, but he also hates you and takes pleasure in doing justice which may involve damning you forever.
2. Nature of God: God is all-powerful, but can’t protect even his own children from Satan.
3. Nature of humans: Humans are weak and totally sinful, but still can be held accountable for making the free and good choice to choose Christ.
4. Nature of the world: Greek dualism – the body is bad and the spirit is good.
5. Nature of humans: God made all humans in his image, but some are so sinful they cannot be redeemed (Haitians, Africans, all Blacks). Just religious legitimation for racism, which is neither original nor difficult to perceive.
6. Bible: Bible is all true and speaks plain meaning in literal terms. Yet we also need numerology, codes, and derivative charts to understand it.
7. Conspiracy: Maybe this comes from late 19th c. liberalism – the sense that people are after us trying to destroy our movement. Conspiracies abound – weather control, gov’t, end times, Bill Clinton… They’re mostly on talk radio in the middle of the night, when people can’t think critically anyway.
Do you have more to add (or do you have a perfect oatmeal cookie recipe to share with me)? That’s enough for me today. I’m really thinking of buying Tim LaHaye’s book of end times charts. In the Thief in the Night films, a man put up the charts in his basement and brought in his neighbors to teach them the truth. I’d like to analyze the charts. But do I want to spend $20 on Tim LaHaye stuff? Maybe not - there's plenty free on-line. Here's a fairly good chart, but it doesn't have any drawings of beasts, the lake of sulphur, or the horsemen of the Apocalypse. Oh well - you have to pay for illustration.
A bit on fundamentalism, but first, two happenings from the weekend.
1. As an act of mourning, I made Martha Stewart’s perfect oatmeal cookies, and added chocolate chips, pecans, and dried cherries (from Carla’s Bon Appetit). The recipe called for too much butter, and now they are totally flat and crispy. Not inedible (I’m eating one right now), but not perfect. Then I made the oatmeal-raisin cookies off the oatmeal container, and they were much better. Sorry, Martha.
2. Psychological triumph: I set a boundary with someone in my life who doesn’t know boundaries. I cried and threw a tantrum beforehand because I was afraid of people being mad at me, but then moved on. Well, actually James set the boundary by making the difficult phonecall, but I let him do it – so I should get some credit!
Against peoples’ advice to listen to a better radio station (NPR is just so…straightforward and based in reality!), I didn’t listen to the radio and instead read the magazine Prophecy in the News. When I was 16, I read “88 Reasons Why the Rapture will Happen in 1988” and was afraid for that entire year. Now they’re writing prophecy each year based on the psalms – Psalm 104 predicts 2004, for example. I’m not falling for it this year. I did, however, find some beliefs in the magazine, and found a few in my head, to add to the list.
1. Numerology helps us understand the Bible. God has buried mysteries in there that come clear with use of numerology.
2. Haitians can’t be helped because one day, long ago, all the Haitians came together and dedicated their island to Satan.
3. Rock music is based on syncopation from Africa, which is why rock music lets Satan into your soul (Africans obviously being controlled by Satan).
4. African-Americans are cursed because of what Ham did to Noah – no point in trying to help them.
5. The Bible lends itself to chronological charting of the future.
6. God loves you, but he gets mad really easily (look what he did to his son).
7. Bill Clinton is an antichrist figure that parallels Nero.
I don’t want to simply collect an exhaustive list of these beliefs. I’m trying to place the beliefs sociologically, and articulate the worldview that lies behind them. I think the conspiratorial, supernatural, demonic beliefs are held by a subset of fundamentalists and evangelicals, and by a greater percentage of charismatics – is this right, or is my perception as bigoted as number 2,3,4 above? The beliefs about God and the Bible are more mainstream fundamentalism, and they ring in the subconsciousness of many evangelicals.
The worldview behind fundamentalism? The ideology seems to be supported by a number of basic beliefs, some of which are quite contradictory.
1. Nature of God: God loves you and wants to save you, but he also hates you and takes pleasure in doing justice which may involve damning you forever.
2. Nature of God: God is all-powerful, but can’t protect even his own children from Satan.
3. Nature of humans: Humans are weak and totally sinful, but still can be held accountable for making the free and good choice to choose Christ.
4. Nature of the world: Greek dualism – the body is bad and the spirit is good.
5. Nature of humans: God made all humans in his image, but some are so sinful they cannot be redeemed (Haitians, Africans, all Blacks). Just religious legitimation for racism, which is neither original nor difficult to perceive.
6. Bible: Bible is all true and speaks plain meaning in literal terms. Yet we also need numerology, codes, and derivative charts to understand it.
7. Conspiracy: Maybe this comes from late 19th c. liberalism – the sense that people are after us trying to destroy our movement. Conspiracies abound – weather control, gov’t, end times, Bill Clinton… They’re mostly on talk radio in the middle of the night, when people can’t think critically anyway.
Do you have more to add (or do you have a perfect oatmeal cookie recipe to share with me)? That’s enough for me today. I’m really thinking of buying Tim LaHaye’s book of end times charts. In the Thief in the Night films, a man put up the charts in his basement and brought in his neighbors to teach them the truth. I’d like to analyze the charts. But do I want to spend $20 on Tim LaHaye stuff? Maybe not - there's plenty free on-line. Here's a fairly good chart, but it doesn't have any drawings of beasts, the lake of sulphur, or the horsemen of the Apocalypse. Oh well - you have to pay for illustration.
Friday, March 05, 2004
Long Blog, But Special
Today I would like to share a draft of an article I'm writing about linguistics. It's longer than my blog entries, and I won't feel bad if you don't have the time to read it. A number of you offered interesting ideas on fundamentalism that I want to think about over the weekend, and post about again next week. Peace to all today!
Fifty Ways to Lose Your Lunch
Language reveals a lot about a culture. The Greeks, for example, had four words for love, distinguishing between erotic love (eros), family love (storge), friendship (philia), and unselfish love (agape). American English uses just one word sloppily for all these different emotions. Spanish speakers distinguish between conocer and saber, two ways to know. Again, English has just one word. When I searched briefly for English words for penis, however, I found thirty two. Thirty nine for sexual intercourse. Four hundred and ninety four for marijuana.
Overlooking my native tongue’s obvious lack of class, I offer this proposal to improve the English language. During five early months of a recent pregnancy, I vomited at least 400 times. I was unable to communicate the meaning of this experience to others because of the linguistic limitations of English. American English offers its users many words for vomit. We commonly use puke, hurl, retch, spew, ralph, hurl, upchuck, and the clinical regurgitate, emesis, or to be sick. Some, especially those who drink too much, have made an art of vomit language: driving the porcelain bus, blowing chunks, tossing your cookies, losing your lunch, talking to ralph on the big white phone, and, new to me, singing psychedelic praises to the depths of the china bowl.
Complexity in vomit vocabulary displays the intelligence and spirit of the American people, but one area has been left entirely unexplored: the nature of vomit itself. Similar to using just one word for the many types of love, it is sadly inadequate to use just one word for the varieties of vomit. Pregnant women and other frequent hurlers could, perhaps, elicit more sympathy and care if they could more clearly explain precisely what they are vomiting. On the international scene, Americans would also appear to be a more intelligent people if we could demonstrate superior linguistic innovation. We’re falling behind in science and math, but I think crass linguistics could be our niche.
What follows is the beginning of a dictionary of vomit. It is based largely on my experience, and I acknowledge it as just a small step forward. Notably absent are entries about drunken vomit, and vomit related to various diseases. These areas should be explored by experts, which I am not. I’ll just offer what I know: pregnancy vomits and mild food poisoning vomit. I sincerely hope other writers and expert retchers will use this vocabulary, develop and extend it, and so contribute to our culture.
Bile hurl. Bile hurl contains nothing but bile, the slippery and bright yellow acid in the stomach. It is a relatively weak vomit, but usually comes at the end of a series of more aggressive pukes. It looks fairly innocent, but bile hurl has a powerful taste because the taste buds for bitter flavors are on the back of the tongue, the vomit superhighway. Bile hurl also eats away at the throat, making the voice scratchy or absent altogether. Bile hurl is sometimes accompanied by a weak voice whispering, “I’m so sick.”
Food-refusal vomit. When the body refuses food immediately, puke consists of the food in its original form, moistened. It’s hardly disturbed, and could be eaten again later in a pinch. Food-refusal vomit may be produced up to 90 minutes after ingestion, in my experience, and perhaps even later for others. The corner of a saltine eaten while horizontal, for example, may emerge whole and unscathed after an hour and a half of rest. When experiencing food-refusal vomiting, it is wise to choose foods based on the ease of vomiting them later. Granola, for example, is too dry and sharp, but cheerios are mild and smooth. Tomato-based soups produce burning hot acid, but clear soups swim upstream like salmon. Coffee produces the same sour result as tomato soup, but black tea and green tea bring only a not entirely unpleasant warmth that rises quickly from belly to mouth. Meat is heavy, requiring strong muscle contractions to work against gravity, but vegetables are slippery and light. Despite what I once suspected, eating sweets does not make food-refusal vomit taste better, not even if the sweets are Ding Dongs or gas station chocolate donettes. The taste buds for sweet flavors are on the tip of the tongue, so sweetness cannot be tasted when food enters the mouth from the back.
False emesis (commonly known as dry heaves). When the body is too weak to really puke, it retches to no effect. Totally dry, not even water or bile. False emesis can be identified early by the quality of muscle contractions, and if correctly diagnosed, you can just stay in bed or watching TV while retching. If wrongly diagnosed, of course, you’ll be sorry. Even if you look yourself straight in the eyes in the mirror and sternly say “Stop playing!”, you cannot stop false emesis. You just have to ride it out.
Orally contained vomit. The frequency of orally contained vomit is determined by the modesty of the puker. When my friend Julie went to work, for example, she was separated from the bathroom by a long hallway. She puked in her mouth and calmly walked to the bathroom, without revealing it to her co-workers. I, on the other hand, would rather puke in my hands and carry it to the bathroom in front of everyone. Fortunately, I work at a school and was pregnant during the summer, so I didn’t face this challenge.
Rotten ralph. Rotten ralph is a non-pregnancy vomit, produced by mild food poisoning. A special form, in my experience, is meat cooked with tomato-based sauce. The throat and back of the tongue are sensitive to the unique taste of rotten, partially digested meat, and acidic sauce adds an unmistakable throat burn. Ground beef enchiladas and picnic chicken marinated in tomato sauce provided me with two outstanding examples. Frequently originating at picnics and potlucks, rotten ralph is rarely found alone. Usually it is part of a double orifice elimination.
Sleep spew. Recording this form of vomit is extremely important because it is rare. I sometimes woke up out of a dead sleep, fully convulsing. This type of vomit was handy for the pregnancy itself, which seemed to want to torture me 24 hours a day. When I woke up retching, I said in my mind, “You don’t have to throw up. You’re just walking to the bathroom. Just walking. It’s OK.” Mind control works for about 15-20 seconds, just enough time to get to the sink.
Surprise spew. Sometimes it seems that, despite weeks of daily vomiting, this day will be the day it ends. You eat something, it stays down for 15 minutes, and you’re so pleased that you keep eating. You eat numerous foods, say Doritos, a Ding Dong, milk, and a peach. Then the body sabotages the mind with a surprise spew, something you never saw coming. It’s frequently embarrassing, like the time I spewed a half-digested apple onto a wall in my doctor’s office. Another time I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and Coke, and surprise spewed. I threw up the sandwich, the color from the Coke (somehow it separates from the liquid), and something lime green that I never identified. This is the only pregnancy puke that I think about months later, wondering about those green bits.
Waterretch. Water is a vomit trigger for many pregnant women. This is a simple vomit, though the first few times will be mixed with the bitter taste of bile. If you’re the kind of fool I was, you will continue sipping water, thinking that your body will prefer the third or fourth swallow. The third and fourth vomit will not contain any bile. This is the only vomit that tastes precisely the same in both directions. Though it seems easy and trouble-tree, waterretch is not to be trifled with. Dehydration sets in quickly and will land you in the hospital.
These are only eight words for the nature of vomit, based on an informal investigation with a sample size of one. May it be the beginning of a vocabulary bonanza. There are about a quarter million distinct words in the English language. Let’s make it 250,008 and counting.
Today I would like to share a draft of an article I'm writing about linguistics. It's longer than my blog entries, and I won't feel bad if you don't have the time to read it. A number of you offered interesting ideas on fundamentalism that I want to think about over the weekend, and post about again next week. Peace to all today!
Fifty Ways to Lose Your Lunch
Language reveals a lot about a culture. The Greeks, for example, had four words for love, distinguishing between erotic love (eros), family love (storge), friendship (philia), and unselfish love (agape). American English uses just one word sloppily for all these different emotions. Spanish speakers distinguish between conocer and saber, two ways to know. Again, English has just one word. When I searched briefly for English words for penis, however, I found thirty two. Thirty nine for sexual intercourse. Four hundred and ninety four for marijuana.
Overlooking my native tongue’s obvious lack of class, I offer this proposal to improve the English language. During five early months of a recent pregnancy, I vomited at least 400 times. I was unable to communicate the meaning of this experience to others because of the linguistic limitations of English. American English offers its users many words for vomit. We commonly use puke, hurl, retch, spew, ralph, hurl, upchuck, and the clinical regurgitate, emesis, or to be sick. Some, especially those who drink too much, have made an art of vomit language: driving the porcelain bus, blowing chunks, tossing your cookies, losing your lunch, talking to ralph on the big white phone, and, new to me, singing psychedelic praises to the depths of the china bowl.
Complexity in vomit vocabulary displays the intelligence and spirit of the American people, but one area has been left entirely unexplored: the nature of vomit itself. Similar to using just one word for the many types of love, it is sadly inadequate to use just one word for the varieties of vomit. Pregnant women and other frequent hurlers could, perhaps, elicit more sympathy and care if they could more clearly explain precisely what they are vomiting. On the international scene, Americans would also appear to be a more intelligent people if we could demonstrate superior linguistic innovation. We’re falling behind in science and math, but I think crass linguistics could be our niche.
What follows is the beginning of a dictionary of vomit. It is based largely on my experience, and I acknowledge it as just a small step forward. Notably absent are entries about drunken vomit, and vomit related to various diseases. These areas should be explored by experts, which I am not. I’ll just offer what I know: pregnancy vomits and mild food poisoning vomit. I sincerely hope other writers and expert retchers will use this vocabulary, develop and extend it, and so contribute to our culture.
Bile hurl. Bile hurl contains nothing but bile, the slippery and bright yellow acid in the stomach. It is a relatively weak vomit, but usually comes at the end of a series of more aggressive pukes. It looks fairly innocent, but bile hurl has a powerful taste because the taste buds for bitter flavors are on the back of the tongue, the vomit superhighway. Bile hurl also eats away at the throat, making the voice scratchy or absent altogether. Bile hurl is sometimes accompanied by a weak voice whispering, “I’m so sick.”
Food-refusal vomit. When the body refuses food immediately, puke consists of the food in its original form, moistened. It’s hardly disturbed, and could be eaten again later in a pinch. Food-refusal vomit may be produced up to 90 minutes after ingestion, in my experience, and perhaps even later for others. The corner of a saltine eaten while horizontal, for example, may emerge whole and unscathed after an hour and a half of rest. When experiencing food-refusal vomiting, it is wise to choose foods based on the ease of vomiting them later. Granola, for example, is too dry and sharp, but cheerios are mild and smooth. Tomato-based soups produce burning hot acid, but clear soups swim upstream like salmon. Coffee produces the same sour result as tomato soup, but black tea and green tea bring only a not entirely unpleasant warmth that rises quickly from belly to mouth. Meat is heavy, requiring strong muscle contractions to work against gravity, but vegetables are slippery and light. Despite what I once suspected, eating sweets does not make food-refusal vomit taste better, not even if the sweets are Ding Dongs or gas station chocolate donettes. The taste buds for sweet flavors are on the tip of the tongue, so sweetness cannot be tasted when food enters the mouth from the back.
False emesis (commonly known as dry heaves). When the body is too weak to really puke, it retches to no effect. Totally dry, not even water or bile. False emesis can be identified early by the quality of muscle contractions, and if correctly diagnosed, you can just stay in bed or watching TV while retching. If wrongly diagnosed, of course, you’ll be sorry. Even if you look yourself straight in the eyes in the mirror and sternly say “Stop playing!”, you cannot stop false emesis. You just have to ride it out.
Orally contained vomit. The frequency of orally contained vomit is determined by the modesty of the puker. When my friend Julie went to work, for example, she was separated from the bathroom by a long hallway. She puked in her mouth and calmly walked to the bathroom, without revealing it to her co-workers. I, on the other hand, would rather puke in my hands and carry it to the bathroom in front of everyone. Fortunately, I work at a school and was pregnant during the summer, so I didn’t face this challenge.
Rotten ralph. Rotten ralph is a non-pregnancy vomit, produced by mild food poisoning. A special form, in my experience, is meat cooked with tomato-based sauce. The throat and back of the tongue are sensitive to the unique taste of rotten, partially digested meat, and acidic sauce adds an unmistakable throat burn. Ground beef enchiladas and picnic chicken marinated in tomato sauce provided me with two outstanding examples. Frequently originating at picnics and potlucks, rotten ralph is rarely found alone. Usually it is part of a double orifice elimination.
Sleep spew. Recording this form of vomit is extremely important because it is rare. I sometimes woke up out of a dead sleep, fully convulsing. This type of vomit was handy for the pregnancy itself, which seemed to want to torture me 24 hours a day. When I woke up retching, I said in my mind, “You don’t have to throw up. You’re just walking to the bathroom. Just walking. It’s OK.” Mind control works for about 15-20 seconds, just enough time to get to the sink.
Surprise spew. Sometimes it seems that, despite weeks of daily vomiting, this day will be the day it ends. You eat something, it stays down for 15 minutes, and you’re so pleased that you keep eating. You eat numerous foods, say Doritos, a Ding Dong, milk, and a peach. Then the body sabotages the mind with a surprise spew, something you never saw coming. It’s frequently embarrassing, like the time I spewed a half-digested apple onto a wall in my doctor’s office. Another time I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and Coke, and surprise spewed. I threw up the sandwich, the color from the Coke (somehow it separates from the liquid), and something lime green that I never identified. This is the only pregnancy puke that I think about months later, wondering about those green bits.
Waterretch. Water is a vomit trigger for many pregnant women. This is a simple vomit, though the first few times will be mixed with the bitter taste of bile. If you’re the kind of fool I was, you will continue sipping water, thinking that your body will prefer the third or fourth swallow. The third and fourth vomit will not contain any bile. This is the only vomit that tastes precisely the same in both directions. Though it seems easy and trouble-tree, waterretch is not to be trifled with. Dehydration sets in quickly and will land you in the hospital.
These are only eight words for the nature of vomit, based on an informal investigation with a sample size of one. May it be the beginning of a vocabulary bonanza. There are about a quarter million distinct words in the English language. Let’s make it 250,008 and counting.
Thursday, March 04, 2004
Strange Things I Used To Believe
I visited with a certain family member from my maternal side last night. Let me be discrete – my family knows little about the Internet, and nothing about my blog, but one of them could discover google anyday. I heard several familiar beliefs from this family member, which started me brainstorming about others. Can you add to the list?
This is what I heard last night:
1. On evangelism: God is knocking at your door, saying, “Are you gonna believe in me before the axe falls?”
2. The end times: The superhighway running from China to Russia has recently been completed. China and Russia are conspiring to attack Israel. God will protect Israel and smite the Russians and Chinese.
3. Election: God isn’t trying to save the Jews anymore. They are just part of his plan to save us.
4. The government: It’s sad that Bush can’t be the great leader he could be. He’s forced to do what they say. “Who are they?”, I asked. “The Rockefellers.”
5. The weather: The government controls the weather with magnets on the poles of the earth.
6. Airplanes. The government drops chemicals on us with small planes. (I get occasional phonecalls during the summer urging me to get inside NOW!)
7. Calvinism: "God is in control, even when bad things happen. He loves you, but he is just and punishes sin. I have found that after he knocks you down, he comes back to kick you in the head." (This was wasn't from last night, but it runs through my head frequently).
It was hard to fall asleep last night after all of that! I thought mostly about demons, however. The fundamentalist radio host who I can’t stand (Todd Friel) talks about contemplative prayer and demons. The idea, also from my family, is that demons are prowling around (like a lion, seeking whom they may destroy) trying to get into your life. If you meditate or open your mind to insights from other religions, then demons will swarm in and ye shall be like the man who was tormented by seven demons. The radio fundies today are warning against Richard Foster's writings on devotional practices. They say that the Bible says to pray with words, and to pray with total consciousness. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that you should be quiet, or open, or meditating, during prayer. This allows the demons of Zen and the Eastern Religions to come into you.
One problem is that this is biblidolatry – the Bible will give you all truth, and there’s no need to listen to the Spirit or to God directly. Reading is the primary spiritual discipline (and where is that in Scripture?). The biggest problem for me is that I grew up with a fear that I would be demon-possessed if I prayed wrong, or if I thought too openly. I have been told to my face that I’m demon-possessed by some of these people (A fellow factory worker who folded Christian calendars with me tried to exorcise the demon of parental disobedience from me). Why would Jesus allow demons to come into my mind? I think of the Celtic prayer – Christ before me, behind me, under me, over me, within me… When my mind is totally open in meditation, it is Jesus who lives in my consciousness, Jesus in my mind. I don’t have to close my mind to trap him in there. I believe in demon possession, and I think I’ve seen it twice and it was terrifying, but I don’t think it is due to contemplative prayer.
I talked with some fellow professors about this, and one said, “Maybe the problem is you, Jenell. Don’t you have other stations on your radio?” Someone else said, “Don’t blog about this issue. It doesn’t expose the fundamentalists – it exposes you for being a fool to engage such a silly argument.” This is a good point.
I am working on my worldview, at the age of 31, more intensively than I have since my early 20s. I tell my students this, too, when we discuss questions of faith in class – who is God, how does he work in the world, what are the spiritual presuppositions behind the theories of racial justice we’re studying… I say, “I really am not sure myself, and I’m as interested in exploring the questions as you are. Well, except for those of you who are sleeping – I guess you’re not interested at all.” Why do we say that worldview formation is especially important for young adults? It's important for kids, even if they can't articulate the ideas with words. It's important to begin the articulation and intellectualizing as young adults - I teach them to start taking up the questions and living with them, and settling on answers and directions that will shape their lives. I don’t teach them to open their minds for four years and then clamp them shut. These basic questions are always there, and resurface for inspection and transformation from time to time.
I truly wish I could be fundamentalist. The Fundamentals, the tracts published by the first fundies 100 years ago, emphasize the truth of Scripture, the centrality of Jesus, the Trinity, the Virgin birth…all good stuff and solid. This is my heritage – fundamentalists are, in many ways, my people. They are just so terribly judging and separatist, and my life choices make me a poor fit. My grandpa was a fundamentalist pastor, and it makes me sad that he couldn’t be proud of me (female professor who has authority over male students, living in an egalitarian marriage).
Peace and love to you all today. Please find something more useful to do in the world today than attacking our brother Richard Foster!
I visited with a certain family member from my maternal side last night. Let me be discrete – my family knows little about the Internet, and nothing about my blog, but one of them could discover google anyday. I heard several familiar beliefs from this family member, which started me brainstorming about others. Can you add to the list?
This is what I heard last night:
1. On evangelism: God is knocking at your door, saying, “Are you gonna believe in me before the axe falls?”
2. The end times: The superhighway running from China to Russia has recently been completed. China and Russia are conspiring to attack Israel. God will protect Israel and smite the Russians and Chinese.
3. Election: God isn’t trying to save the Jews anymore. They are just part of his plan to save us.
4. The government: It’s sad that Bush can’t be the great leader he could be. He’s forced to do what they say. “Who are they?”, I asked. “The Rockefellers.”
5. The weather: The government controls the weather with magnets on the poles of the earth.
6. Airplanes. The government drops chemicals on us with small planes. (I get occasional phonecalls during the summer urging me to get inside NOW!)
7. Calvinism: "God is in control, even when bad things happen. He loves you, but he is just and punishes sin. I have found that after he knocks you down, he comes back to kick you in the head." (This was wasn't from last night, but it runs through my head frequently).
It was hard to fall asleep last night after all of that! I thought mostly about demons, however. The fundamentalist radio host who I can’t stand (Todd Friel) talks about contemplative prayer and demons. The idea, also from my family, is that demons are prowling around (like a lion, seeking whom they may destroy) trying to get into your life. If you meditate or open your mind to insights from other religions, then demons will swarm in and ye shall be like the man who was tormented by seven demons. The radio fundies today are warning against Richard Foster's writings on devotional practices. They say that the Bible says to pray with words, and to pray with total consciousness. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that you should be quiet, or open, or meditating, during prayer. This allows the demons of Zen and the Eastern Religions to come into you.
One problem is that this is biblidolatry – the Bible will give you all truth, and there’s no need to listen to the Spirit or to God directly. Reading is the primary spiritual discipline (and where is that in Scripture?). The biggest problem for me is that I grew up with a fear that I would be demon-possessed if I prayed wrong, or if I thought too openly. I have been told to my face that I’m demon-possessed by some of these people (A fellow factory worker who folded Christian calendars with me tried to exorcise the demon of parental disobedience from me). Why would Jesus allow demons to come into my mind? I think of the Celtic prayer – Christ before me, behind me, under me, over me, within me… When my mind is totally open in meditation, it is Jesus who lives in my consciousness, Jesus in my mind. I don’t have to close my mind to trap him in there. I believe in demon possession, and I think I’ve seen it twice and it was terrifying, but I don’t think it is due to contemplative prayer.
I talked with some fellow professors about this, and one said, “Maybe the problem is you, Jenell. Don’t you have other stations on your radio?” Someone else said, “Don’t blog about this issue. It doesn’t expose the fundamentalists – it exposes you for being a fool to engage such a silly argument.” This is a good point.
I am working on my worldview, at the age of 31, more intensively than I have since my early 20s. I tell my students this, too, when we discuss questions of faith in class – who is God, how does he work in the world, what are the spiritual presuppositions behind the theories of racial justice we’re studying… I say, “I really am not sure myself, and I’m as interested in exploring the questions as you are. Well, except for those of you who are sleeping – I guess you’re not interested at all.” Why do we say that worldview formation is especially important for young adults? It's important for kids, even if they can't articulate the ideas with words. It's important to begin the articulation and intellectualizing as young adults - I teach them to start taking up the questions and living with them, and settling on answers and directions that will shape their lives. I don’t teach them to open their minds for four years and then clamp them shut. These basic questions are always there, and resurface for inspection and transformation from time to time.
I truly wish I could be fundamentalist. The Fundamentals, the tracts published by the first fundies 100 years ago, emphasize the truth of Scripture, the centrality of Jesus, the Trinity, the Virgin birth…all good stuff and solid. This is my heritage – fundamentalists are, in many ways, my people. They are just so terribly judging and separatist, and my life choices make me a poor fit. My grandpa was a fundamentalist pastor, and it makes me sad that he couldn’t be proud of me (female professor who has authority over male students, living in an egalitarian marriage).
Peace and love to you all today. Please find something more useful to do in the world today than attacking our brother Richard Foster!
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
PLARIMS (Peace Like a River in My Soul)
I don’t want to spoil the book for Shelley or Marlene, so I won’t discuss plot too much, rather, just write about what the book meant to me. My writing will be inadequate, because the beauty of it all is the narrative, and I’m just abstracting some thoughts from it.
Enger’s vision reminds me of some of the comments people wrote on Ash Wednesday and earlier. We just don’t have access to sure information about death, heaven, or hell, yet we long to know. Enger imagines these things, just like KP imagines iced tea in heaven. I think of these as “comfort beliefs.” We believe some things about our loved ones and about God because the beliefs are a comfort to us. They are about unknowable, undebatable things, and as long as we hold them lightly and without dogmatism, I think they’re fine.
Miracles.
One man in the book is gifted to perform miracles. He performs them occasionally, and cannot produce them on demand. Bad people are healed, while good people are not. Smaller things are repaired, while larger wounds remain open. Some characters in the book are untouched by desperately needed miracles, though they live in close proximity to the man. They both long for healing, and accept other peoples’ miracles as a sign of God’s presence and love. I am comforted by the presence of a loving God in the book, and in my world. There’s just no explaining why things happen as they do, for good and for bad, for various people. Things happen as they happen, and perhaps it really is God’s love behind it all in some ultimate way. You can’t force his hand or demand what you want, but you can be attentive and eager, trusting that you’ll see love happen somewhere in the universe.
Death.
One person in the book was allowed to die for a loved one, exchanging places. As with the miracles, numerous other people in the story died without resurrection, some without dignity or comfort at the last. For unexplainable reasons, one person was resurrected, at the expense of another. I have wished for this scenario myself, but it was not a gift given to me. It was cathartic, and a blessing, to watch it happen for someone else.
Both Shelley and Marlene want to read it - does anyone have a spare copy? I'll bring mine on Sunday for one of you. By the way, Frank McCourt wrote a review that said, PLAR has "passages so wondrous and wise you'll want to claw yourself with pleasure." Do you claw yourself when reading good books? I hadn't yet considered it.
Assorted things I’ve purchased this week.
1. Canned pumpkin for the cats. I said to them, “Rachel says you’ll like it!”, but they won’t eat it.
2. James’ workplace gave him a $25 gift certificate to Cub, so I put it toward groceries and splurged on a pineapple.
3. A reading lamp for my bedroom. I got one for our wedding, but the cats knock it over during the night. Rather than attempt to train them, stifling their natural freedom, I just bought a heavier lamp.
4. Two Bethel sweatshirts. Two related wardrobe principles: a) It’s not OK to wear sweats to work. B) It is OK to wear sweats to work if they are imprinted with the name of your workplace. One says, “Bethel Dad”, but you can’t be too picky when rifling through the 75% off rack.
College Students Say the Darndest Things!
”I’m afraid that if I do badly on the paper, you won’t like me anymore.”
P.S.
I don't love Scarlett Johannsen or Charlize Theron. Sorry. I truly love Robert Duvall, because from behind, when he's walking, he looks like my dad.
I don’t want to spoil the book for Shelley or Marlene, so I won’t discuss plot too much, rather, just write about what the book meant to me. My writing will be inadequate, because the beauty of it all is the narrative, and I’m just abstracting some thoughts from it.
Enger’s vision reminds me of some of the comments people wrote on Ash Wednesday and earlier. We just don’t have access to sure information about death, heaven, or hell, yet we long to know. Enger imagines these things, just like KP imagines iced tea in heaven. I think of these as “comfort beliefs.” We believe some things about our loved ones and about God because the beliefs are a comfort to us. They are about unknowable, undebatable things, and as long as we hold them lightly and without dogmatism, I think they’re fine.
Miracles.
One man in the book is gifted to perform miracles. He performs them occasionally, and cannot produce them on demand. Bad people are healed, while good people are not. Smaller things are repaired, while larger wounds remain open. Some characters in the book are untouched by desperately needed miracles, though they live in close proximity to the man. They both long for healing, and accept other peoples’ miracles as a sign of God’s presence and love. I am comforted by the presence of a loving God in the book, and in my world. There’s just no explaining why things happen as they do, for good and for bad, for various people. Things happen as they happen, and perhaps it really is God’s love behind it all in some ultimate way. You can’t force his hand or demand what you want, but you can be attentive and eager, trusting that you’ll see love happen somewhere in the universe.
Death.
One person in the book was allowed to die for a loved one, exchanging places. As with the miracles, numerous other people in the story died without resurrection, some without dignity or comfort at the last. For unexplainable reasons, one person was resurrected, at the expense of another. I have wished for this scenario myself, but it was not a gift given to me. It was cathartic, and a blessing, to watch it happen for someone else.
Both Shelley and Marlene want to read it - does anyone have a spare copy? I'll bring mine on Sunday for one of you. By the way, Frank McCourt wrote a review that said, PLAR has "passages so wondrous and wise you'll want to claw yourself with pleasure." Do you claw yourself when reading good books? I hadn't yet considered it.
Assorted things I’ve purchased this week.
1. Canned pumpkin for the cats. I said to them, “Rachel says you’ll like it!”, but they won’t eat it.
2. James’ workplace gave him a $25 gift certificate to Cub, so I put it toward groceries and splurged on a pineapple.
3. A reading lamp for my bedroom. I got one for our wedding, but the cats knock it over during the night. Rather than attempt to train them, stifling their natural freedom, I just bought a heavier lamp.
4. Two Bethel sweatshirts. Two related wardrobe principles: a) It’s not OK to wear sweats to work. B) It is OK to wear sweats to work if they are imprinted with the name of your workplace. One says, “Bethel Dad”, but you can’t be too picky when rifling through the 75% off rack.
College Students Say the Darndest Things!
”I’m afraid that if I do badly on the paper, you won’t like me anymore.”
P.S.
I don't love Scarlett Johannsen or Charlize Theron. Sorry. I truly love Robert Duvall, because from behind, when he's walking, he looks like my dad.
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
Lenten Challenges
First off, I apologize for not devoting more attention to Charlize Theron, and for not knowing Scarlett Johannsen's name (nor how to spell it). I don't stay up past 10 very often, so I missed the final awards, and missed seeing Charlize's dress and, apparently more importantly, her boyfriend.
Dammit! I am sitting here at work and smell a faint odor of urine. One of the cats pissed on the sweater I'm wearing. I might just wear it anyway, or else I'll have to wear my jacket instead of a sweater. I'm not mad, tho. I'm sure she just had to go really bad, and really, it's my fault for even owning the sweater.
The real topic of the day is Lenten Challenges. I know we are called to be Christ to each other, but in the spirit of holistic faith, maybe we should also be Satan to each other. My vision is that we offer temptations and obstacles to observing our Lenten practices. The first challenge I want to offer is to Javier. I challenge Javier to write a good-hearted reflection on Thomas Kinkade's art. Remember, Javier gave up cynicism for Lent. And, by the way, I'm selling a Kinkade puzzle on ebay this week. Don't even ask how I wind up with this stuff. I don't think anyone should challenge MarMar, however. There's no joy in kicking a person when she's already down. Only praise and encouragement for her journey.
I'm either going to wear my spare cardigan or my coat to class. I really can't wear this sweater.
I want to tell you about what I learned from Peace Like a River...tomorrow. Peace and love to all today.
First off, I apologize for not devoting more attention to Charlize Theron, and for not knowing Scarlett Johannsen's name (nor how to spell it). I don't stay up past 10 very often, so I missed the final awards, and missed seeing Charlize's dress and, apparently more importantly, her boyfriend.
Dammit! I am sitting here at work and smell a faint odor of urine. One of the cats pissed on the sweater I'm wearing. I might just wear it anyway, or else I'll have to wear my jacket instead of a sweater. I'm not mad, tho. I'm sure she just had to go really bad, and really, it's my fault for even owning the sweater.
The real topic of the day is Lenten Challenges. I know we are called to be Christ to each other, but in the spirit of holistic faith, maybe we should also be Satan to each other. My vision is that we offer temptations and obstacles to observing our Lenten practices. The first challenge I want to offer is to Javier. I challenge Javier to write a good-hearted reflection on Thomas Kinkade's art. Remember, Javier gave up cynicism for Lent. And, by the way, I'm selling a Kinkade puzzle on ebay this week. Don't even ask how I wind up with this stuff. I don't think anyone should challenge MarMar, however. There's no joy in kicking a person when she's already down. Only praise and encouragement for her journey.
I'm either going to wear my spare cardigan or my coat to class. I really can't wear this sweater.
I want to tell you about what I learned from Peace Like a River...tomorrow. Peace and love to all today.
Monday, March 01, 2004
Don't Be A Freak!
In the style of Luke, I'll offer some transparency about my life. I got up this morning and the first words I shouted were, "Shut the &*%$ up, Opal! Don't be a freak!" Then I gave Ruby some milk (she gets milk every morning because she misses her mother), and Opal sniffed Ruby's butt while she drank her milk. Sad to say, that's not the freaky behavior. Wearing the same sweats I wore to church last night (they serve as both pajamas and church clothes), I made some wonderful coffee. James brought me Seattle's Best coffee from Seattle, a new mug, and chocolate covered graham crackers. I asked him for a present, and I know he got them at the airport on the way home, but I'm easy (as I inappropriately mentioned in an e-mail to Carla).
And now I sit down to blog. Blogging is shallow this morning because I'm eager to spend my morning minutes reading Peace Like a River, The Best Book in the World. Rachel recommended it - it's a novel about a family growing up in 1960s rural Minnesota. It's about miracles and faith and loyalty. I was reading about them driivng in an unheated car west through NoDak in the winter, and I got so cold I had to go back to my flannel-clad bed to read!
Subject of the day: Petty Commentary on the Academy Awards
Overall comments. Too much white, not enough color. It makes Jesus sad when non-virgins wear white formal dresses. Jesus doesn't like big bows on the butt, either. Oh, sorry, that's just my opinion.
Julia Roberts. Great dress, average color. Some sort of breast alteration, cuz they looked big.
Liv Tyler. Beautiful face, great glasses. Strange 1982 hair.
Nicholas Cage. Tie and collar too wide.
Catherine Zeta-Jones. Perfection. Beautiful color, tank-style neckline, hair, face, all perfect.
Diane Keaton. She needs an intervention. She keeps dressing like that, and no one seems to help her.
Woman from the Pearl Earring Movie. I loved her teal dress. Lipstick too dark.
Peter Jackson. See Diane Keaton comments.
James and Jenell. Wearing pajamas (also known as "church clothes"), holding hands, drinking tea, cats on laps. Perfection!
In the style of Luke, I'll offer some transparency about my life. I got up this morning and the first words I shouted were, "Shut the &*%$ up, Opal! Don't be a freak!" Then I gave Ruby some milk (she gets milk every morning because she misses her mother), and Opal sniffed Ruby's butt while she drank her milk. Sad to say, that's not the freaky behavior. Wearing the same sweats I wore to church last night (they serve as both pajamas and church clothes), I made some wonderful coffee. James brought me Seattle's Best coffee from Seattle, a new mug, and chocolate covered graham crackers. I asked him for a present, and I know he got them at the airport on the way home, but I'm easy (as I inappropriately mentioned in an e-mail to Carla).
And now I sit down to blog. Blogging is shallow this morning because I'm eager to spend my morning minutes reading Peace Like a River, The Best Book in the World. Rachel recommended it - it's a novel about a family growing up in 1960s rural Minnesota. It's about miracles and faith and loyalty. I was reading about them driivng in an unheated car west through NoDak in the winter, and I got so cold I had to go back to my flannel-clad bed to read!
Subject of the day: Petty Commentary on the Academy Awards
Overall comments. Too much white, not enough color. It makes Jesus sad when non-virgins wear white formal dresses. Jesus doesn't like big bows on the butt, either. Oh, sorry, that's just my opinion.
Julia Roberts. Great dress, average color. Some sort of breast alteration, cuz they looked big.
Liv Tyler. Beautiful face, great glasses. Strange 1982 hair.
Nicholas Cage. Tie and collar too wide.
Catherine Zeta-Jones. Perfection. Beautiful color, tank-style neckline, hair, face, all perfect.
Diane Keaton. She needs an intervention. She keeps dressing like that, and no one seems to help her.
Woman from the Pearl Earring Movie. I loved her teal dress. Lipstick too dark.
Peter Jackson. See Diane Keaton comments.
James and Jenell. Wearing pajamas (also known as "church clothes"), holding hands, drinking tea, cats on laps. Perfection!
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