Musing Shambles

Well, this week I have tragically less of interest actually happening in my life, which I guess means that the focus will have to shift to be a bit more interior, possibly exciting for some of you, for others, well, you might have preferred just a news bulletin. Oh well. So, at the moment I am supposed to be doing a massive stack of reading for my class in Pentateuch, we are supposed to have upwards of about 125 pages of reading due every week, in addition to our actual assignments for the class. I think that was a bit excessive, but then Jesse showed me the miraculous time saving process of scanning (i.e.-not actually reading most of the material) which will, I think, prove to be a marvelous time-saving device in the long run. At least, I hope so, because I've had a premature outbreak of senioritis, so I pretty much just don't care about working tonight at all, like I can't muster more than the absolute bare minimum of effort. Very dangerous sign at this point in the semester. There's gonna be a lot more crap to get through before this is all over, and if I'm already almost at the point of giving up, this really does not bode well. Hopefully this is just a temporary condition and one which I shall soon get over.

You know honestly, though, I should really enjoy this whole college thing b/c what I'm looking for is not to quit school and wend my way out into the merry world of the workforce, but rather to quit school work and just have fun all the time. Honestly, with that kind of attitude, how can I ever expect to make it out there in the "real world?" (You know, when I graduated from high school they told me I'd end up in the real world, but that really was not the case. So, could the real world not be lurking somewhere out there beyond the confines of college? Is there no "real world?" At any case, I think once I graduate I'll hopefully finally know that I'm in the place that's as "real" as my world is ever gonna get. End excursus). Why can't our whole lives be more like our lives as children. Because I remember what is was like to be a child, at least in part, and even as a child I was never really satisfied either. I wanted to be an adult. Which just goes to prove the theory that no matter where we are, it seems like we will never be really satisfied, at least not all the time.

Well, this was really not a very good post at all, but I really don't have the mental capacity at the moment to do better. Sorry folks. Maybe next time.

A Week of Winds

Well, for those of you who noticed my absence, I have just spent a whirlwind first week of classes and then, instead of stopping to catch my breath, took a little side trip up to Philly to attend my dear friend Sharon's commissioning service before her trip to Africa. Things have been mostly crazy, but I have been having some good fun every now and again, especially this past weekend. The trip entailed a five hour car trip both ways with people who, I have to confess, I did not know all that well. Or rather, I did not know them well at the beginning of the trip. By the end of the trip, I think it is safe to say that we are all fast friends. We talked about everything in that car, about faith, about poverty, about clothes and chapstick, about parenting, personal struggles, music tastes, man, there is nothing like a long car ride to help you get to know people. And then, our time spent in Philly was wonderful too. We spent the afternoon in downtown historic Philadelphia, which turned out to be a much greater adventure than I ever reckoned on. We set out in a light drizzle, but by the time we parked downtown at the art museum, it had turned into a steady shower. Then, as we walked down Benjamin Franklin (for whom everything is named) Parkway, the shower started to get a little more determined, especially as large gusts of wind kept driving the rain into us from behind, soaking our backs and popping our umbrellas inside out. Oddly enough, this all made the afternoon that much more enjoyable, adding this wonderful spark of hilarity to everything. It was good that we were in this group that was able to take things in stride and still have a lot of fun in spite of some slight trials. We still managed to see the old Town Hall and the Liberty Bell, as well as walking around a bit in Reading Station Market, which was a wonderful place where they sold fresh produce, flowers and meats, as well as all kinds of prepared foods from all over the world. I love places like that. Unfortunately, Rick's was out of buns, so we did not get our authentic Philly cheese steaks, but that's something to look forward to another time, I suppose.

The service this morning was also beautiful. Sharon, Grace, Jo and Brent did the music, and they did an amazing job. Sharon looked so beautiful standing on the platform this morning, in her deep purple skirt that her parents got her from Zambia. I must confess, it was difficult not to get choked up, thinking about her heading off to Africa, first to study in Tanzania, and then for nursing work in Uganda. I so admire her dedication and clear-eyed vision, and in some ways envy the opportunities she will have, as I do, to a degree I suppose, with all my friends who are going to be off campus this semester instead of me...Ah well, soon enough, I suppose ;-)

Then, after a delicious pot roast lunch at the Askey's home, we started out on the long trip back. We got back tonight and I have been footling around since then, trying in vain to get ready for the week. Instead, I have had to content myself with being ready for tomorrow. Well, one day at a time, I suppose.

A Day

Today I was finally treated to the spectacle of the fine Chronicles of Narnia movie. Since I have raised myself on these books, this was quite a treat for me. Although the movie was not identical to the book, some of the additions were actually kind of cool, though some were irritating. But I won't go on about that, I'm sure it would not be very interesting, though maybe someday I should have more speaks about Narnia. At any rate, it was a lovely experience, like pulling some comfortable old dreams out of a beautiful trunk to shake them out and admire them. And now I am watching Ever After with my fantasticly amazing sister. And furthermore this evening I was listening to my jazz music (Billie Holiday singing "You Go to my Head, mmmm)...someone should stop me before I start getting ideas in my head.

A Nog in the Egg (or, The Yolk's On You)

So, now that the saga is at last drawing to a close, I think that I have had sufficient time and retrospect to be able to fill you in on this latest epic in the life of me. It began innocently enough, on December the 22nd. Alicia had just gone to stay w/ her parents after her stay w/ us, my mom had just taken her to the airport that afternoon. That night, it started w/ an itch. The next day when I woke up, I had broken out in hives all over the place, my neck, my arms, my back. I took some Benedryl and managed to ignore it most of the day. But that evening, it just got worse and worse until suddenly I found myself in the glorious emergency room with an allergic reaction, getting fine shots and many fine pills. The reaction cleared up a few days later, but it's occurance was a source of endless amusement to my dear mother as she tried to figure out what had caused the reaction. The funny thing was, really, that there was nothing out of the ordinary with my routine on that particular day. Hadn't started using any new kinds of soap or detergent, no new medications, no strange or exotic foods. But for some reason it was the foods she fixed on as the primary potential culprit. She narrowed down the possibilities until she decided that it had to be either ginger cookies or egg nog. How she decided on these particular foods remains a mystery to me, especially since I have eaten these foods all my life with immunity. She said that was because of the accumulation of toxins in my system that apparently reached some level at which I could no longer tolerate them.

Well, by the time the reaction cleared, I was already in Omaha, where I sampled some delicious egg nog ice cream. I mentioned this to my sweet mother on the phone and she responded, "What?!?! Why would you do that, you know you're allergic to egg nog!!! Squeak, squwak, squeaking, squwaking!" Yep, yep, that's clearly the case.

So, the saga ended today with a fine trip to the allergist. The first thing she told was that, based on my symptoms, it could not possibly be a food allergy. The diagnosis that she was able to give was that some people have bodies that randomly reject their own cells as allergens. I find this to be strangely ironic, that in addition to being rather on the crazy side myself, that my body would follow suit by randomly attacking itself every now and again. Well, there might be some other insights following the bloodwork, but there's no way to tell. For now, there's nothing to do except wait for the test results...and laugh and laugh and laugh.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

Well, another sojourn has been successfully completed, this time to the most exotic land of Omaha. At this moment I am sitting in my "very own" living room, watching Aladdin, with my pumpkin bread baking in the oven. Could there be a more believable picture of perfect contentment, to retire to such a haven after the perils of travel have been duly dealt with and conquered? I think not.

Well, as usual, I have had many more adventures and misadventures on this past trip, most notably with my Omaha chums from days of yore (mostly jolly old Eddius (aka Barley Grump-Grump) and the great Hoperston, Funky Chicken extrordinaire). Our first adventure involved much driving around in the car of young Francis before he had to leave for a band trip. Then we traveled throughout the gloriousness of the Hy-Vee before enjoying the dairy-licious pleasure of cookie dough ice cream. The next time I saw these indomitable peers o' mine, after a round of bowling (the sport of kings) it was for a fine sojourn through the desolate wasteland commonly referred to as "cornfield." After exploring and mapping much of these previously uncharted terrain, we happened across an ancient temple, crudely built by some of the ancient inhabitants of this land. After paying the proper respects, we continued on our way. Later that night, we were hanging out in the fine basement domain of Eddius' house and we found ourselves engaged in the fiercest kind of combat w/ the so-called Nerf guns. I am proud to say that I managed to be victorious against Eddius and young Patrick as well. I am one fiesty bug. After some refreshing victuals, we found ourselves at the fine lake of Zorinsky, the landscape of my childhood. On this particular occasion we ended up with a little impromptu late night dance party, fueled by the melodious sounds of Eddius' car's fine stereo. This was a very liberating and ennobling kind of experience, it must be said. I've never danced in a place w/o walls before. Well then, one thing led to another and what with all of our pressing engagments and affairs that we had to attend to in various locations, we remained quite busy until 6:00 in the fine morning.

The next time we got together it was one of the only nice days of weather we enjoyed while in the fair state of Nebraska, a place which the powers that control the weather have chosen to display their extreme displeasure. But that particular day happened to be nice in spite of that, and so once again we wended our way to Zorinsky to enjoy some high class walkings. Not content to follow the beaten path, we soon struck out to do some exploration on our own. We ended up wending our way down a stream, which seemed to be more or less frozen, or so it would seem from its ability to hold us up for quite some time. After we made our way to the other side of the stream, we stumbled upon a fine field of cattails, which we proceeded to disassemble in the most glorious manner. Old cattails have the ability to break apart into a million tiny filaments of fuzz when you break them up, and then they float away on the breezes like snow. It was quite a lot of fun. Then we proceeded to have a fine conversation in which we proceeded to discuss how we could use cattails and other things found in the natural world to convince other people that I had magical powers if I had lived back in the middle ages. The trip back to the car was not w/o event, as we were attacked twice by trolls as we were crossing bridges (where the trolly trolls lurk) but Hope and I decided that we would sacrifice Young Goodman Eddius to their appetite, and we managed to make it safely home.

Well, I feel as though I am not doing nearly a sufficent job of describing the wonders of the glorious city of Omaha, many other marvelous things have occured over the past few days that I have not even begun to set down on paper. For instance, I have not yet begun to wax eloqent on all of the marvelous shindigs that I had w/ my dad. However, the hour grows later and I believe that I have put down all the most dramatic events. I believe that I should quit now before I become any more incoherent. Goodnight.