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Thursday, July 31, 2003
I keep running across this photo on costume sites (lookin' fer pirate gear, arrrrrrrgh) and it never fails to make me laugh. I think it's the eye makeup. David Bowie died for our sins.
Crown of Thorns, $19.99
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Wednesday, July 30, 2003
 I love the cross jewelry at Kiss My Ring in Berkeley. Ryan and I wandered in there a few months ago and I wanted to buy the whole store. I found their business card in my bag the other day and went to the website and, yes, I still want to buy all of it. Maybe I can treat myself to a piece when I have something to celebrate.
I'd like to find some sort of cross ring for my right hand, but the perfect one hasn't come at me yet. Of course, I have no idea what I want, except Not What I've Seen. There's a lot of bad religious jewelry out there, folks.
Crafty Chica needs to knock it off with all the cool new craft projects. Ryan and I want to do these as Christmas ornaments, or maybe they could go together with wire and be a garland. hmmmmm. I'm very excited about the possibilities of this resin stuff, as well. I wonder if making a 5-pound mosaic stapler would keep mine from leaving all the time at work. So far, my Thou Shalt Not Steal labels have met with only limited success. And it's not even a red Swingline.
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I have actual news about an actual decision I've actually made. I'm going to take a couple of classes at CDSP (the Episcopal seminary, which happens to be right across the bay from me) as part of their Certificate of Theological Studies (non-degree) program, and get my feet wet a bit. I plan to start Spring semester, since I've missed the deadline for Fall, and I need to get various ducks in order first anyway. Yes, I'm aware that they could flat-out reject me and then I'll have to come back here and admit to that, but I'm willing to take the chance and talk about it now.
Basically, I made a list of everything that is making me anxious about exploring my call to ordination further, and it was a rather long list, but I decided that one of the big ones, the actual coursework, could be dealt with rather simply by, oh, I dunno, maybe taking some freakin' classes. Once I see that I can handle that, maybe starting the Big Scary Official Discernment Process won't seem so horrible. Or maybe it will help me see that this really isn't the right path. Either way, I have nothing to lose other than, say a couple thousand dollars in tuition and some late-night crunch-time study sessions. If I do go on for my M.Div, I'll have some of the classes out of the way, and, if not, well, maybe I'll have some interesting factoids for cocktail parties.
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Monday, July 28, 2003
The entirely perfect Beaded Maude. Look upon it and say, God is Super!
If you lick the frame, it's my favorite flavor...plain!
This was made by a Going Jesus reader, and I think it's so fabulous! It arrived with a Ned Flanders label on the package, and some ultra-wonderful St. Ned post-it notes. I totally love it.
sorry about the glare on the glass in the photo
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Sunday, July 27, 2003
I was a Greeter today. I greet or ush(er) about once a month, which is fun because I know just about everyone and I feel like Miss Popularity.
I've been watching this one couple that I don't know. They usually arrive separately, hit the ushers pretty much at a run, grabbing a bulletin without stopping, and sit near the back. They leave after the sermon, before the creed and the confession. They've been doing this for several weeks. I'm just happy they keep coming, for as long as they can stand it. Fear and trembling is a perfectly rational response to what we're up to in that building.
They often sit near me, as I tend to hang near the back. I tell myself that it's because I've often been useful back there, getting water for people who are coughing, jumping in to help the ushers, etc. Actually it's that I don't want everyone to see me crying. It's just something that happens as soon as I feel God's presence; I start tearing up. My old spiritual director called them holy tears, possibly just to make me feel better about the fact that I went through a box of tissues just about every time we met.
The tears come from a mixture of emotions, most of which I haven't fully identified. Lately they're gone by the eucharist, replaced by a full-on joy. Today I was feeling all box-of-puppies wiggly and joyful as the eucharistic prayers started and my enthusiastic, "hosanna in the highest!" was probably better suited to the more rockin' contemporary services, but I seriously thought that my heart was going to burst right out of my chest and I just wanted to dance.
I'm just so glad I'm not alone in this life (my inner nasty atheist sneers, "yes, you have your little imaginary friend Jesus," and then I whack her on the head) and that God works in my life through other people. You know who you are.
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A guest quote from Dennis, who writes about his morning's church experience:
Best part of the service is St. M's has a resident kitty. A big fat well-loved thing who wanders into the chapel for the early service. It remembered me and I got a kitty on my lap for much of the service. Then during the preparations at the altar for communion the cat went up there and was crying for attention. Stifled my laughter but just barely. As always, Holy Communion affected me deeply. Doughy flat bread and sweet wine shouldn't do it alone which helps bolster my faith in something more.
I'd like to think that the kitty knew that Dennis was slipping back into church for the first time a while, and that he might need a bit of extra love. I'd like to think he was acting On Orders.
At St. Ned's we sometimes get stray toddlers up front during the contemporary services, but we don't have a kitty. I wish we did.
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It's so great to get noticed by the cool kids. Highly brilliant bloggers Something Understood and I Like Shiny Things have both mentioned Going Jesus this week. As did Anita Rowland. I feel like we should all go hang out on the swingset now.
Oh, and USA Today gave a nod (again) to going bridal here. Hey, any time I am mentioned in the same column as the fabulous Television Without Pity works for me!
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Saturday, July 26, 2003
Terry Gross interviews The Rev. Canon V. Gene Robinson on Fresh Air. For those of you not playing along at home, he is has been chosen by the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire to be their next bishop. It's a very good interview, despite the fact that Terry Gross can't pronounce diocese.
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Friday, July 25, 2003
Sublime Stitching has pirate designs! PIRATE DESIGNS!! And three other new ones, but come on people. PIRATES!!
Oh, and there are photos of the fairy baby costume up on sewgeeky.
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Thursday, July 24, 2003
I really really wish I could go to the Episcopal Church's General Convention next week. Not because I want to go and argue about whether or not Gene Robinson is a good choice for bishop, or because I think any progress will be made one way or another on same-sex unions. Those are big, loud issues and I don't really have anything to add that isn't already being shouted by others.
I want to go so I can see the smaller things that are happening in the church. I'm looking through the resolutions tonight, page after page of them, and I'm so excited by everything that is going to be discussed. Open communion! Financial support for seminarians! Medical ethics! Health care! Social justice! New dioceses are being added, the lectionary is being revised, a lot of attention is being paid to kids and youth and young adults.
I like this new prayer that is being proposed:
Lord, we pray today for all who work and all who are seeking work. As You looked at the work You had done and saw that it was good, help us to value all work performed with diligence, care and honesty. Help us to seek rewards for our work not only in the wages we receive, but also in stewardship of Your creation and justice toward all persons. Help us to recognize that we cannot do our work alone, but depend upon the work of many others, some of whom we do not even know. Help us to remember that it is Your gift to find, even in the inevitable routine, occasions of interest and joy. Help us to remember that laborers are worthy not only of their hire, but of their rest. Help us to say “Well done” to others, as we hope to hear the same. Finally, when we cannot see the direction to go, give us faith that you can always work for good through us. We ask these things in the name of Him who promised to be with us always. Amen.
Maybe next time I can figure out a way to get there.
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Wednesday, July 23, 2003
Story picks from Salon:
What being a priest can do to your sex life and Anne Lamott on weddings
and, a late addition, sort of related:
St. Dwynwen, patron of lovers (especially those in distress)
"Praying to St. Jude, the saint of impossible causes, seemed unduly pessimistic. "
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Tuesday, July 22, 2003
I've been doing compline and morning prayer most days, now that I have net access at home again and can get to the Daily Office Online. Of course, I completely embarrassed myself at staff meeting last week when I expressed joy at having net, because "now I can pray again!" Yes, I *know* it's all there in the Book of Common Prayer, but flipping around between my BCP and my chunky-style Bible makes it so, you know, hard. Ok, so I lack discipline in this area.
I'll probably add in evening prayer eventually, but right now the only thing I know for sure is that my day begins and ends in the same place. I am hoping to start an evening prayer service at St. Ned's this fall, before our weekly dinners. We'll have 80 to 100 people showing up for dinner, so I figure a couple of them can show up early and pop over to the church with me.
We don't have any weekday services at St. Ned's. I used to go to a Tuesday morning eucharist at 8:00 at my old church. It was usually the same 5 or 6 people, and we broke pieces off a roll and handed them to each other around the circle. I remember once the New Guy had to do that service, and he broke the bread into six equal pieces at the altar, and then passed it around. The pieces were huge but we were game and tried to eat them. Ever tried saying, "the body of Christ, the bread of heaven," with your mouth full? Without spraying bits of bread all over the next person? It's not easy.
That was also the service where I once dropped a big chunk of bread down the front of my sweater. The priest saw it happen and we were both trying hard to laugh. Well, Jesus is everywhere and sometime's He's in my cleavage, I guess.
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Monday, July 21, 2003
I am still working on getting a decent photo of the Fabulous! Fabulous! Maude Flanders picture that an even more fabulous reader of my blogs sent me, because you all must experience it. It's done in *beads* - BEADS! And it's angel-Maude, complete with sweater vest, wings, and halo. I have it hanging at my desk at St. Ned's. It's glorious. People openly covet it.
Another entry of Dennis' review column, Cook's Corner #7.
I added some new things to the Cavalcade of Bad Bridal Fashion - a reader sent me a couple of real doozies and I couldn't resist.
I am right-this-minute cracking myself up by listening to one of my favorite stories from This American Life - Cheryl Trykv's Teen Getaway. You can hear it here; it's segment #4 (under a different title, oddly). It's also on the TAL CD Lies Sissies & Fiascoes. The main reason I need everyone in the world to hear this is so that they'll think it's funny when I start saying, "drink your pee! drink your peeee!" in a gnome's voice.
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 I'm planning to go back east for Thanksgiving, to see my family in Michigan. I haven't seen my nieces since last summer, so I'm looking forward to hanging out with them.
The other thing I am looking forward to is a trip to Frankenmuth, a rather terrifying Bavarian theme town. Frankenmuth is home to Bronner's CHRISTmas Wonderland, which is roughly seven times larger than any Christmas store really needs to be. And I am going there.
Jon and Ryan (and...I hope...Leigh) will be in Michigan at the same time I am, and we are going to get together for a Frankenmuth of a Day. Ryan and Leigh and I all went there when we were children, as all good Michigan natives are wont to do, but Jon will not believe it until he sees it with his own eyes. Which he may then want to rip out of his head and stomp on. I mean, we haven't even really told him about the giant cuckoo clock in the middle of town.
My personal favorite from the Bronner's website: the fiber-optic nativity. So very tempted by its pure awfulness. It's not as disturbing as this Snowman Nativity, though. That one just raises so many questions...did Jesus melt for our sins? Wasn't this all supposed to have happened in the desert? Was there really some magic in that old silk hat they found? I don't know. I just don't know. Don't even get me started on the teddy bear nativities...
Which is all to say that I've shrugged off a bit of heaviness in this heat, and am on my way to the pool.
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Thursday, July 17, 2003
Found via the Fruitcake Zone at Ship of Fools ("In our opinion, there's no fruitcake like religious fruitcake"): AfterlifeTelegrams.com. Be sure to read the FAQ. Remember, "Reincarnation could cause a problem. By the time the telegram can reach the addressee, he could already be back on earth." $5.00 per word, which is refunded if the messenger lives longer than a year.
You may also enjoy the Biblical Curse Generator. I hope you will be smitten with all-over boils, thou offspring of a squashed cockroach!
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Wednesday, July 16, 2003
Hey, let's talk about me. Me me me.
Last weekend was completely fabulous. I had Godly Play training on Friday and Saturday, which was so much more than I expected. I am fully on board for Godly Play this fall; I'm not sure which classroom I'll be in or what I'll be doing, but I really want to be a part of it.
At the beginning of the training, the trainer sat us all on the floor and told us the story of Abraham and Sarah, using a big sandbox and small wooden figures. She didn't look at us as she moved the figures through the desert, speaking very slowly and calmly. It was much more affecting than one would expect, given that we're talking about a rubbermaid box full of sand and a couple of wooden block figures (who, technically, were Noah and Mrs. Noah, from another set). I actually got choked up when she said that God came very, very close to Abraham (here she lowered her hand until her open palm almost touched the figure) and told him what to do. Like I said, it was more powerful than it objectively should have been. Which is part of the appeal for me; it felt like our friend the Holy Spirit was really present in what she was doing. Who wouldn't want to get in on that?
Saturday night I went to a party given by my former roommates. The food was amazing, as always, and they made the best sangria I've ever tasted. I actually managed to complete Bud's birthday present on time; it was a set of three dishtowels embroidered with motifs from the Viva Las Vegas collection by Sublime Stitching (the flaming martini, the royal flush, and the lucky lady). For the record, I think the Martha Stewart floursack dishtowels @ Kmart rock for embroidery. The flaming martini towel was put into immediate service.
Sunday night I completed my training to be a small group leader. I probably won't have my own group any time soon, but the person who leads my group is With Child and will need to take a break this fall, so I'll step in then. The training was fun, mostly because I didn't know the other people very well and we ended up having a fine time and laughing a lot.
I'm still working on finishing the fairy costume, which is almost done and should be in the mail soon, and then I'm starting a Godly Play project, which is dressing 4 little baby dolls in Christening gowns for the lesson about baptism. I've been advised that I do not, repeat, NOT need to go all-out on these. As if I would ever do that.
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Monday, July 14, 2003
John 6
16When evening came, his disciples went down to the lake, 17where they got into a boat and set off across the lake for Capernaum. By now it was dark, and Jesus had not yet joined them. 18A strong wind was blowing and the waters grew rough. 19When they had rowed three or three and a half miles, they saw Jesus approaching the boat, walking on the water; and they were terrified. 20But he said to them, "It is I; don't be afraid." 21Then they were willing to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the shore where they were heading.
I love this passage...I love that the disciples weren't frightened by the storm, they were frightened by Jesus walking toward the boat. On the water.
The disciples knew about storms; they spent a lot of time out on the water. Storms were part of normal life. Not a fun part, but a familiar one. Guys walking on water, on the other hand - that's new. Gotta get used to that. Brain...can't...deal...
There was a moment there when they had to choose between continuing through the storm, something they could probably do with reasonably good results, and pulling Jesus into their boat. Jesus told them not to be afraid, and they decided to believe him. As soon as he was in the boat, they bypassed the rest of the storm and landed safely on the shore.
Ok, so the decision was a bit easier for them because Jesus was standing right there, water lapping around his ankles. It's not so easy for me to keep pulling Jesus into the boat. I think I can do just fine on my own, thank you very much. I'm managing. Really. Thank you for your concern.
The annoying thing about this passage is that it punctures the idea that, in resisting Jesus, I'm acting from strength - I don't need no stinkin' savior! - because just by saying 'be not afraid' Jesus brings the real issue right into focus. It's fear that keeps us from moving forward in faith. We've been talking about that a lot in church lately. I wish we would stop, to tell you the truth. I have some nice little illusions about the role of fear in my faith journey and I'd like to keep them for a little while longer. Sigh. Truth is so irritating sometimes.
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Today's Real Live Preacher features this communion table:
Those who followed me over here from Going Bridal may remember the Cavalcade of Bad Bridal Fashion...I didn't think there would be a corresponding section on Going Jesus, but maybe there should be a place to note such horrors. BTW, Preacher says this is made of plexiglass and sells for $1999. Is it supposed to go on Wonder Woman's invisible plane?
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Sunday, July 13, 2003
A little more wisdom from Henri Nouwen:
Often it is the dark forest that makes us speak about the open field. Frequently prison makes us think about freedom, hunger helps us to appreciate food, and war gives us words for peace. Not seldom are our visions of the future born out of the suffering of the present and our hope for others out of our own despair. Only a few "happy endings" make us happy, but often someone's careful and honest articulation of the ambiguities, uncertainties, and painful conditions of life give us new hope. The paradox is indeed that new life is born out of the pains of the old.
- from the introduction to Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life
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Friday, July 11, 2003
We were talking about signs this week in our small group, and I remembered one of those 'Jesus throws a sandal at the back of my head' moments in my life.
When I started working at St. Ned's, I was going to another church. Also Episcopal, but the average member was right around retirement age, and I just didn't fit in all that well. I used to joke that I was The Young Adult of the parish. I liked the clergy and the staff, but I was really isolated within the congregation. Although I was involved in several things, nothing was really pushing me spiritually. I was so lonely, but I thought that if I just kept trying, I'd be an insider eventually.
One weekend about 4 months after I'd started working at St. Ned's, I read something on a message board from someone lamenting the quality of the churches around her, and I started to write back a very perky response saying that if she was in the bay area, she should come to this really great church...and I described St. Ned's. Thwap! What was I doing? I was inviting people to come to this church, talking about how supportive and loving the community is, and how the emphasis is on spiritual growth and transformation and how the Rector just Gets It...but I'm not going to this church. I'm sneaking into the back of a place where I don't feel supported or even especially wanted instead.
Jeebus Melmo, how much more obvious does this need to be? Do I need a burning bush?
I had a meeting with the Rector at the other church a week or so later...I was in complete turmoil, because I knew that I wanted to be at St. Ned's but here I was talking to the other church about a vocations committee and I didn't know how to just break things off. I thought it was going to be a really hard, unpleasant conversation. Except...right away, the Rector said that she kept thinking that maybe I should go to St. Ned's, and go through the vocations process there.
Note to self for the future: when something is in alignment with God's will, God clears the way for it. Discernment 101.
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Thursday, July 10, 2003
 I'm still trying to figure out what, exactly, is happening to me. Last night as I was falling asleep, I realized that, physically, I feel like there's a great deal more space inside my chest. Like my chest is on hinges and could fly open at any moment (this may explain why it's so hard for me to find a bra that really fits), releasing...I don't know what. Something good, anyway.
I keep thinking of the dove on the Holy Spirit window by Louis Comfort Tiffany lately - I have that same sort of bursting-energy feeling.
My breakfast reading this week has been The Inner Voice of Love by Henri Nouwen. It's a series of short meditations, which are actually journal entries from a very painful time in Nouwen's life. I've pulled two of them out here. It's not his most pleasant book, certainly, but he and I struggle with some of the same things and I'm finding it helpful. [a much more accessible bit of Nouwen is his book on prayer, With Open Hands]
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Tuesday, July 08, 2003
A couple of links which may be useful to anyone wanting to know more about those wacky Episcopalians.
Episcopal Church USA welcome center - a great place to start. Note that the sub-navigation is on the left side of the screen.
Peek Through the Window - I want to re-design this site every time I look at it, but the information presented is a good overview of the Episcopal church. beliefs | worship
liturgy:
Book of Common Prayer
The Daily Office - try out morning or evening prayer without leaving your computer
Note that none of these links will answer the fundamental question, "why couldn't you have picked a name that is easier to spell?"
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Monday, July 07, 2003
I went to the children's service yesterday before my paper flower workshop (which went really well, btw - it's possible that I was a bit nervous; all of my dreams Saturday night involved gym class, which is never a good sign). I was especially struck by the confession; all of the children receive seashells to hold while they think about their mistakes and regrets for the past week, and then they put the shells into a bowl where they're washed clean while the priest pronounces the absolution. And everyone leaves ready to start over.
It's really that easy, isn't it? You know, I sit in the Rite II service every Sunday and say the words:
Most merciful God,
we confess that we have sinned against you
in thought, word, and deed,
by what we have done,
and by what we have left undone.
We have not loved you with our whole heart;
we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we
humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ,
have mercy on us and forgive us;
that we may delight in your will,
and walk in your ways,
to the glory of your Name. Amen.
and I believe that I Get It, and then something simple like the seashell ritual happens and I realize that a lot of those little kids holding shells probably have a better grip on grace than I do.
I'm grateful for the liturgical year; we've only been using the confession for a few weeks now, after retiring it during Easter season, and it feels fresh to me again. I know I sometimes zone out in church, letting my lips run over the familiar words without really grasping their meaning. Sometimes I find myself saying, "thanks be to GOD" with the wrong sort of inflection when a reading ends (nothing like a slow reader with a nice dry section of Numbers to make a person start looking for burned-out lightbulbs in the ceiling). I admit that sometimes, church just doesn't work for me in the moment.
I used to worry about this. I used to think that I had to be feeling Very Connected With God every minute of the service in order to be doing it right. Fortunately, that isn't the case. For one thing, there's a lot going on there, more than I can take in with my overly-buzzy, Sunday morning brain. So I've decided to be ok with just letting whatever connects, connect, and leaving the rest for the following weeks. Right now, the confession is resonating for me. Some weeks it's the creed that really gets to me, some weeks it's the first few sentences of the eucharistic prayer.
I try to pay attention to what cuts through my defenses, and also to what brings them out. The latter usually points to someplace where God and I aren't on the same page. Lately, I've been having an urge to flee right before the Peace. I'm just really prickly lately and don't want to connect with people any more than I have to, I guess. I'm in an awkward, gangly state at the moment, neither here nor there, and I'd be perfectly happy to just go and hide out until I'm molted or hatched or whatever the hell is happening to me is finished. So, every week is an exercise in being who I am, where I am and asking people to deal with me as-is. And they always do and I often get surprise hugs and feel a billion times better afterwards. So it's not like I even know what I need or want but I hang in there and it seems to happen anyway. God is crafty that way.
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Just had to share this one with you - why you shouldn't taunt God:
(07-04) 03:31 PDT FOREST, Ohio (AP) -- A guest evangelist was preaching at the First Baptist Church in this small northwestern Ohio town, emphasizing penance and asking for a sign from God.
At that moment, the church's steeple was struck by lightning, setting the church on fire and blowing out the sound system.
"It was awesome, just awesome," said church member Ronnie Cheney, 40, of rural Forest.
"You could hear the storm building outside ... He (the evangelist) just kept asking God what else he needed to say," Cheney said. "He was asking for a sign and he got one."
Cheney said the lightning traveled through the microphone and enveloped the preacher, but he was not injured.
Afterward on Tuesday evening services resumed for about 20 minutes, but then the congregation realized that the church was on fire and the building was evacuated.
The Forest Fire Department quickly doused the flames.
Forest is about 60 miles south of Toledo.
[AP story ripped off from SF Gate]
Am I the only one who wonders if the Forest Fire Department has ever stopped to think about their name?
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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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