Sad Sad Things...

I am sitting here at my computer spending quality time with my husband watching...

Aquateen Hunger Force.

If you've never seen then you've NO idea. The shame, the shame. And it gets worse. I know the back story now, of the bit characters. We have philosophical discussions of the ramifications of the actions of Frylock, Meatwad and Shake.

And the worse part. I like it. I have a closet addiction, or not so much any more, to Adult Swim. The Venture Brothers, The Oblongs, Lucy Daughter of the Devil. Some of them are just tolerable like Stroker and Hoop and Home Movies but most of the Line Up is on the Tivo.

Well not Robot Chicken. Robot Chicken is terrible. Can I get an AMEN?

Thought of the day.

I like to clean. Now if youve been to my house or seen my car, you are probably screaming, "Liar!" not unlike Miracle Max's Wife. I wont say that i do it often, because the moons have to be properly aligned:

I have to have a block of time set aside
I have to have access to music
I have to be alone
I have to be headache free
I have to be able to over come the call to inertia of any book I may be reading at the time
and I have to be well fed so that I dont get distracted and start cooking something which will inevitably take me to the store, take prep time, cooking time and create a pile of dishes by which time Ryan will be home and I will no longer be alone and thus cannot clean.

But, the heavens cooperating, I am able to, I like organizing my belongings, taking stock of their condition, making lists of things that need to be purchased for future corralling of possessions, ie bookends, ashtrays for change and barrettes. I like the smell of dust spray and the moist look of well polished wood. I love fresh sheets. I like folding laundry, warm in my lap as it comes out of the dryer. And I love singing 99 Red Balloons at the top of my lungs while I do it.

Well I Never...

Would have thought...
I just read this this morning. It APPEARS that Ray Boltz came out of the closet. You know that man that wrote "Thank You For Giving To the Lord" and my personal favorite "Watch the Lamb" <--- I cry like a baby every single time. Well I read this theology blog and they were talking about it and I went online other places and it was even already on Wikipedia.
This happened YESTERDAY people. I havent even gotten to read the article myself, am supposing because there is such heavy traffic because I cant even get the paper to load. One of the commenters on the blog says the content is questionable. Well duh, its a gay and lesbian newspaper's website. They are not known for having subtle websites are they? <-- blanket generalization statement yes I know.
But this makes me sad, oh so sad. This man, who wrote these sweet loves songs to Jesus. Well I guess none of us are beyond sin, but still. I dont think it would have occured to me. That he got a divorce, sad yes that causes a media scandal but in this day in age not a huge one. But this, and that he is purporting that "God made Him this way", well I dont think anyone would read the essay I could write on the theological crap that is if I posted it here. My blood boils at Christian superstars spouting bad theology and making us all look like idiots.

Regardless, I'm shocked, oy I dont even want to think about my mother, she owns all his cd's, millions of people are going to be hurt and confused by this and not to mention the man himself. So if your called to pray for the nation, not that we all aren't but you know what I mean, your gonna wanna write this one down in the log book.

Sorry to be so quiet and then come out with this... its been a looong week at work and I just havent had the mental capacity.

Ahoy There!

If you havent been reading recently and then decided to catch up youre in for quite the roller coaster.

Imagine if you will that you were shipwrecked and laying on a piece of something floaty (doesnt matter what youre dying here) and after about two days of drifting the middle of the ocean, seeing nothing but sun and sea and stillness you come to grips with the fact that you are about to bite it.

So you go through a lot of deep philosophical thinking and imagining and reasonings that arent reasonable. (Afterall you are sunburnt and heat stroked and dehydrated. Oh and going to die, any better excuse for drama?)

And then because of Providence, (though some would call it coincidence however the improbability factor is something like 1 in 7,852,945,856,854) a submarine surfaces not 20 yards from you, (it has to be a submarine because neither you nor they saw the approach of the other, the arrival was drastic and sudden like lightening) and you are rescued, rehydrated, aloed and set back to reason. With renewed purpose perhaps but with the memory of the near death appreciation for all those things you thought you had lost.

I listened to Gene Emersons message from this past Sunday this morning. Many of you wont have any idea what relevance that has to anything, but its safe to say, my drifting is somewhat subdued and I might hope finished.


"Why is it so dark Lord?" said me.
"Because you've got your hands over your eyes." said He.

Drowning My Sorrows

"Aw… you're having a quarter life crisis. That’s so cute." Heather Lee says to me the other day as I am on the phone crying to her about one of the myriad of things I have been depressed about off and on in my life recently.

You know how you make lists of things that you wanted to do with your life by the time you were XYZ?

Well, I do not:

1.) Play the piano or guitar

2.) Speak three plus languages

3.) Own a luxury sedan

4.) Travel to Europe regularly

5.) Have a body that looks good in lingerie

6.) Fence

7.) Own a weapon I feel confident using

I could go on.

So heres the thing… and I want responses here people.

A.) Am I the only one that is crawling out of my skin going why am I wasting away, then feeling totally insane for thinking that I need any of this stuff?

B.) How do you reconcile the fact that we are wives, mothers, servants, i.e. not given to our own pursuits? I mean, I love my husband. He is my best friend and he knows me and still loves me and were happy. That’s a rare thing. I get that. But I feel like the price I pay for having a happy home is … ME. And theres no guarantee, I know, just because I want those things does not mean I get to have them. My pursuits are my pursuits and I will give them up to God and His will again so even there, why is my head wrapped up in these things I think I want that wont make me happy anyway. Ugh…

C.) Am I wrong for thinking that I shouldn’t pursue any of those things in as much as Ryan doesn’t mind. I mean he doesn’t care. I can take guitar lessons. He certainly would support me. Except this nagging thing in my head that says all that time spent in a pursuit to satisfy my own vanity is not money or time well spent away from my home.

Whats a girl to do?

When It Rains...

So I have a job. And Ryan has a job. Well two actually.
He finally got a call from this place he used to work back in the day and they hired him back.
Its here in Jasper, but since we wont be going to school for who knows how long, its better than commuting anywhere else.
And he decided that since we have to pay student loans while we are not in school that he should get two jobs. So he went back to CVS (midwest Rite-Aid) where he used to work when I met him to get a part-time job. They love him there. So when they were looking for a pharmacy tech and he said "why dont you hire my wife" they did. No questions, no interview, no experience. LOL.
I mean theres a DVD and you gotta pass a test. Im not that worried about it.
So three jobs in one day.
When it rains...

Town Crier

I dont remember when I became a crier. I remember distinctly laughing at my mom when she would cry at Hallmark commercials. I want to know when it happened to me.

Did it happen to you?

Ive decided, I think, that I was not old enough to understand love or want, therefore comprehend loss or disappointment really so I could not grieve. Or maybe I've only become more of an empath as ive gotten older.

I cry for lost fathers and spouses. I cry for deployed husbands and fathers. I cry for estranged mothers and daughters. All of these things I see on TV or hear in and song and I weep. Not just tear but weep.


I cried on Saturday. Most of the way home from Louisville I cried. I dont recommend crying while driving. But there was construction and no shoulder. None the less I survived.
This time it was a different cry. I havent really been upset about the situation here.

We have been here a month with no real jobs. Ryan is so depressed with guilt because of everything that he is barely trying. He doesnt realize hes depressed so he wont talk to me about it. He wont see Noah. Im driving an hour and forty five minutes to work a terrible job that pays 8 dollars an hour for 16 hours a week. Just to have some income. And we missed the deadline for FAFSA, it passed while we were busy trying to move so now we dont get to go to school for a whole year.

All of this I had taken, or so I thought, with calm and reserve and patience. I was not angry, I was not aggravated.

But you know what set me off? HGTV's 10 Best Kitchens ... it doesnt seem germane I know.

I got mad at God that I was never going to own a Viking Range. That because I was married to a man who could live in a cave and be happy and we lived in the middle of nowhere where there were no jobs and we were never going to finish school and I would never have a job that made any money and I would never have a kitchen with Italian tile and marble counters and a Viking range and then I got angry that I felt sinful for wanting all of those things but dammit I wanted them. So I cried ... isnt that silly?