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Saturday, July 05, 2003
I'm feeling extremely pleased with myself, on accounta I just put in a new headlight bulb on the beetle all by myself. Take that, "all bulbs must be installed by your dealer" owner's manual. Take that, "it will be more than $80 and usually less that $125" dealership. I rule! I bought a $7 bulb at the auto parts store this morning and used the instructions I found here.
Fixing my car makes me feel so butch and capable, y'know? Earlier this year, I lost one of the turn signals to a rock or something - the lens thingy was totally shattered along with the bulb. I bought new signal housings for both sides of the car on ebay for $10 (list $35 per side) and installed the one I needed in about 10 minutes (note to all rocks: please take out the driver side turn signal next time, as I still have a spare one). I'm pretty much restricting myself to body work, since I don't feel like messing with anything potentially life-threatening. I won't be doing my own brakes. But if it's just a matter of unscrewing something or figuring out which bulb to buy or cramming a part back in place, I can do that. I am woman. Hear me swear at my car.
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Thursday, July 03, 2003
My plans for the weekend are simple. Spend time in the pool, read Harry Potter, sew. I'm so glad I'm not having a party this weekend. First, because a lot of cool people are out of town or otherwise occupied, and second, because I just need a rest. And, of course, it takes time to pull off a good pirate party, so August will do nicely.
I'm not sleeping well this week, mostly because I'm working on some fun projects and I forget to go to bed, and I've been out late every night this week. People who pick up their embroidery at 11:00 p.m. deserve what they get, I guess.
The sewing project for this weekend is a fairy costume for my cousin's baby, who is turning one in September. She's having a fairy-theme birthday party and a photo of her in the fairy costume will be the invitation. So, I'm going for photogenic. I have very exciting pink crinkle organza to play with.
Kat and I made a Trader Joe's run last night, the non-highlight of which was when I put a jar of pasta sauce in the upper deck of the shopping cart and it fell to the floor, smashing all over the place. I will say, though, that it did look thick and rich, just as the label promised. I bet it's even yummier without all the broken glass. The people at TJ's were very nice about it, but I still felt like a total ass. Cleanup on Aisle Me.
They had a supply of the increasingly-rare TJ's Dark Truffle chocolate bars, several of which were purchased by Kat for purely medicinal reasons. We broke one out in the car on the way back, and, well, YUM. I may have to go back for more, although I have a stock of Little Debbie star-spangled cakes which were SUPPOSED to be my only indulgence this weekend.
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Wednesday, July 02, 2003
The church fridge is getting cleaned out this evening. We think this used to be watermelon.
It's not as good as last summer, when the fridge broke and everything had to be taken out of it. They pulled out something that looked like a muppet. *I* wanted to put ping-pong ball eyes in the middle of it and call it the church mascot, but everyone else insisted that it belonged in the dumpster. I wasn't as attached to this piece of desiccated watermelon; I let it go.
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 So, last night? My friends and I? Went mini-golfing? And it was, like, really fun and stuff?
Is it really wrong to just throw the ball through the stupid little drawbridge if you can't hit it in after 8 or so tries? I don't think so. Of course, if you then miss and the ball once again bounces off the castle, well, now, that is embarrassing. And we won't even talk about all the times I hit the ball out of bounds onto the grass, the water, etc. There was much laughter, since I wouldn't say that any of the other seven people had mad putting skills, either, and I certainly wasn't the only one searching the lawn for a stray ball.
If only the arcade had had skee-ball (thing I suck at but love anyway #1,837), it would have been perfect.
Note to self: more mini-golf this summer.
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Tuesday, July 01, 2003
There's a new dealie on the bottom of the page whereby one can sign up to get email when this site is updated. Does anyone have any experiences, good or bad, with blogarithm? I like the name, anyway!
I'm a bit wary after a less-than-great experience using Bloglet on going bridal, but hey, it's technology and it must be good, right?
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Monday, June 30, 2003
[rambling unformed thoughts, my apologies]
I missed church yesterday, which is too bad considering that the gospel was the story that goes with the image I chose for this page, Jesus and the Samaritan Woman at the well.
For people who know me, I think it's a big DUH why I chose this particular story as the illustration for going jesus. Let's see...Jesus starts talking to the least likely person, and turns her into a believer. Yeah, that works. The person is a social outcast who has to slip over to the well when no one is looking, she's screwed her life up, and she's rather prickly - oooh, right again! I'll take 'blatantly obvious' for $500, Alex.
In the end, Jesus spends two days with the Samaritans, and the people tell the woman that they believe now because of what they have seen, and not because of what she has said. I always wonder how she felt about that. Did she miss that little thrill of celebrity once Jesus himself took over? What was her life like after Jesus left? How did her encounter with Jesus change her - was she welcomed back into the community? Did anyone remember that she was the one who came running from the well, in the middle of the day? Did she keep reminding them over and over until they started to avoid her again?
Last week, we heard the previous chapter, in which John the Baptist (head still intact) says of Jesus, "He must increase, but I must decrease." and I see an echo of that here. JtB knew that he wasn't the messiah, that his job was to make clear the way of the Lord...and then get out of the way. I don't have as many questions about him as I do about the woman at the well. Maybe because I am no John the Baptist.
I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it: I must decrease.
That sounds really unpleasant to me, raised I was to believe that it really is all about me (and perhaps my silly little blog, too). Decrease? I got presents on my brother's birthday just so I wouldn't feel bad about it not being my birthday. And I'm supposed to let someone else be the messiah? I'm supposed to carry somebody else's message? I'm supposed to make the path straight and then get out of the way? Huh? I'm an American, raised in the 70s. That's not really what I'm trained for.
I'd really like my ministry to be all about me sometimes. Me me me. I want to be fabulous! I want to bring people to Christ! I want to fill churches with my brilliant faith! I'd want the people of Sychar to put up a nice statue of me next to the well, because I'm the one who told them about Jesus in the first place. Which is, of course, totally and completely wrong and not how it works At All.
I'm not saying that this makes a lot of sense to me right now - I'm stuck in the middle of knowing what doesn't work, and waiting for an understanding of what does. I know that there is a truth that I'm very close to grasping, and when I do, it will be another breakthrough. I'm turning it over in my mind, feeling the weight of it and not really expecting it to crack open just yet. I see where I'm being pointed, though, and that's a huge enough blessing for the moment.
*for any confused Episcopalians out there, St. Ned's doesn't always follow the common lectionary. We're reading John this summer.
related note:
The preacher last week used the term 'yield' to describe the decrease, which reminded me of this great bit from what may be my all-time favorite Annie Lamott essays. I am not exaggerating when I say that this piece of writing saved my life. Anyway, here's what she says about yielding:
But it was when I was hopeless, caught in desperation and grief, that I got humble, teachable, willing to surrender.
Of course, I grew up with an older brother, so to me surrender means you get your face ground in the dirt. It means you get noogies on your upper arm and then you have to go downstairs and get him oranges. But surrender to God means you come over to the winning side. A synonym for "surrender" is "yield," which means, agriculturally, to step aside and let something grow.
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Sunday, June 29, 2003
How do you think happiness works? Is happiness a baseline, or a peak? Do you think there's a far-off point in time where, if certain things align (job, relationship, family, body size, a good haircut) you will suddenly be happy, but in the meantime your job is to work towards these things? Does buying stuff ever make you happy? Are you ever surprised by what makes you happy?
How often do you notice yourself being happy? Is it usually a surprise, or more like an old friend stopping by, or is it more like noticing that you're blinking - it's there all the time but usually escapes your notice? Do you know where happiness is and can you get back there? No matter what happens?
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I'm sure a lot of people already knew about this, but I am totally blown away by my first experience in selling books; I took a single box of books that I won't miss from my life down to the huge used bookstore in Mountain View, and now I have a $40 credit to use there. This totally rocks. I think I'll try to get some art books with good decoupage illustrations. OR I'll hit their 2002 calendar section (this is where old calendars go to die) where I could get 40 calendars to cut up and glue to stuff. Wow. Total decoupage power shall be mine. Load up the
Mod Podge.
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