And that goes for all you punks in the press

So, for a long time I've been trying to figure out some way to tap into my creative side. I used to have a side job taking sports photography and blogging, but that ended about 3 months ago, mainly because I felt like my creativity was being squelched by the restrictions I had. I mean, seriously, how many different ideas can you come up to write about kickball and still keep it fresh? I was told I was repeating myself. Yeah, that kind of ended my career in sports journalism.

It's no good for man to work in cages

"I have eight different bosses right now... So that means when I make a mistake, I have eight different people coming by to tell me about it. That's my only real motivation is not to be hassled..." -- Peter Gibbons, from Office Space

I wish they'd make that big of a deal when I do something good, not just when I screw up.

I, I was standing, you were there...

People who know me, know that one thing I have really desired in my life is to find myself a husband. I'll admit it, I'm looking. And I'm not getting any younger while I do it. People who know me also know that I don't do internet dating. No eHarmony for me! I tried it, with disastrous results. I was heavier back then, and I just don't come out very well in pictures. So between the 50 extra pounds I once carried and my lack of photogenicism (is that a word?), most guys would close out their matches with me the minute I showed them my picture.

And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too, I'll see you on the dark side of the moon

Does anybody realize what a crazy baseball day this is?  Right now I am praying the Yankees complete the blowing of a 7 run lead to lose their game, currently in the 11th inning in Tampa.  I am a Yankee fan.  Just a few hours north of me, there are Red Sox fans who are praying the Yankees hold on to win this game, so their beloved Sawx can make it into the playoffs.  If the Yankees lose, the Rays will be in the playoffs.  I'm hearing the sound of heads exploding in Boston right now.

I am restless, looking for you

Running hard for the other side
The world that I've always been denied
Running hard for the infinite
With the tears of the saints and hypocrites
--Switchfoot


Yeah, that's what I mean.

...And I will give you rest

I don't pretend to be a great writer, or super funny, or super insightful, or super anything.  Maybe super boring, but that's not for me to judge really...  So to make a comparison between myself and a truly great writer and poet, I will always come up short.  But I'm going to do it anyway, because I can feel his pain right now.

Ten years gone, holding on, ten years gone

Ten years ago right now I was headed back home (or maybe already there) from dancing modern jive.  It had been a rainy night and I remember Heather and Aris, my companions, got to stay dry because I let them out at the venue (church basement) while I went to find a parking spot.  Little did I know that my dad's Aunt Berta, whom we all called Tante, had died that night.  Little did I know that a conversation I would have on the Queensboro Bridge with Aris, who was FOB from Greece, would haunt me the rest of my life.  And little did I know that my plans for the weekend would be altered.

I lost myself

The last couple days I've been thinking a lot about the question: "What do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul?"

My world is a flood

I took another trip upstate this weekend.  This time, to my cousin's house in Albany.  It seems that every time I go visit her, it rains or snows either on my way up there or coming back down.  I remember a few years ago hitting torrential rain, to the point where I couldn't see, all the way from about New Baltimore to home.

The thing I find most amazing in amazing grace is the chance to give it out

It occurred to me today that one of the most tragic things about my brother is that he has no room for grace in his life.  He is the type of person who gives people no chance to atone for their wrongs.  He holds a grudge for years on end.  And by "wrongs", I mean things that he deems wrong.  They don't necessarily have to be wrong.  They just have to be wrong in his eyes.  This makes him a very bitter person.

He might show more grace to those who can do things for him, especially if those things are monetary in nature.  And that makes it all the more tragic.  He's living for money and making himself a sadder and sadder person in the process.

If people treated him that way, he'd be alone.  If God treated him that way he wouldn't be on this planet anymore.  If God treated us all that way, the human race would have ended with Adam and Eve.  We are the recipients of so much grace, and it's tragic when we don't see this and pay it forward to the next people.  And I pray to God I never turn into someone who has no grace to give away.

I used to write letters, I used to sign my name

I remember when I was a kid, when something bothered me, when someone bothered me, I would write to them.  At first I'd actually send them the letters.  This was back before email, before blogs, when the only thing you could do quickly and easily is take out a piece of paper and write it out.  And I would.

I love those cupcakes like McAdams loves Gosling

I just had to move my car so my dad could get his out.  Of course, it had to be just after the skies opened up that my dad knocked on my door and said, "All right, I'm leaving now!"

So I grabbed my keys and ran outside to the car, getting drenched the entire way.  A couple days ago I was running and got similarly drenched.  Except, because my car was over a mile away, instead of a few feet, the drenching lasted longer, which made me even wetter.  It got me thinking about the movies.  Mainly the ones with girls getting drenched in a sudden summer downpour.  The scene from The Notebook where Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling are out in the boat and it rains, and they kiss.  The scene from The Sound of Music where Liesl and Rolf get stuck in a downpour and dance in the gazebo, and they kiss.  There's a lot of kissing of hot blond guys in the rain.

Where's my hot blond??

Hanging above as the canyon comes between

For the first time in a long time I heard the Cable Car song by the Fray (I think it's really called "Over My Head", but I like the cable car imagery).  Anyhow, supposedly, this song is about the singer and his brother and how they didn't get along together.  When I heard that the lyrics made total sense to me.  Because it's the story of me and my brother.  Except without the end where everyone makes up and lives happily.  Maybe not ever after, but at least for awhile.  Yeah, there's no happy ending with this one.  At least not yet.

New York City, I'm coming home again

This weekend, I took Friday off and spent Friday and Saturday in the family's summer house in Yulan, NY.  Well, I didn't just spend it there.  This weekend was hot like hell, and the house has no air conditioning.  Which is fine overnight, because it gets really cool.  But when the temps are a very humid 100+, that's no place for human habitation.  So, I took my sweet old time driving up there.

Send me a sign, a hint, a whisper

I am the type of person who looks for symbolism and signs in everything.  A certain thing happens at a certain time, and -oh- it must be a sign. For instance, three times, "Mr. Brightside" by the Killers came on while I was passing church.  Seemed like for awhile the only time I'd hear the song was when I was passing church.  And every time I passed the church it would come on like clockwork.  OMG a sign!!  But what does a song about wanting someone who is with someone else have to do with church? I still haven't figured that one out yet.  But it's a sign!! Of something.....

I need the courage to carry on, 'cause I can't see what's ahead

Why is it so easy to trust God with the small stuff, but even after he's proven himself with that, I just can't seem to trust him with the big stuff?

Maybe because I can't see the big picture.  I'm the kind of person who needs to see that, who needs to know why these things are happening, what they're accomplishing, why it has to be this way.  And in this case I can't.  "This case" meaning life in general.

It's very easy to say I need to have faith that it will all work out.  It's not so easy to actually put that into practice.  Because right now I have my doubts.  There's just so much I need to have faith for.

I don't know how to say what's got to be said

How do I tell someone they're making a big mistake, when I have a stake in it myself??  It is a big mistake and a bad idea.  But I can't say that without it sounding wrong....

...Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

The New Testament has lots to say about self-denial but not as an end in itself. We are told to deny ourselves and take up our crosses in order that we may follow Christ; and nearly every description of what we shall ultimately find if we do so contains an appeal to desire. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promise of regard and the staggering nature of rewards promised in the Gospels it would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling around with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at sea. We are far too easily pleased.
-- C. S. Lewis

So maybe there's a crash coming for the ground, Seek His face, He'll never let you down

This weekend has had a theme. It began Friday night at church, as we broke down our VBS set to hand over to another church whose VBS program starts tomorrow. One of the team that came to take the sets for their use was this guy Peppy, who I went out with a couple times last year. Although the dating thing didn't work, we have maintained a friendship, mainly over Facebook. I hadn't seen him in AGES. So when I saw him at the front of the church, of course I said hi.

In the course of the night, while breaking down the set, we got caught up on each other's lives, and at some point he handed me a Starbucks card. He knew I'd find more use for it than he would.  Way more use for it.  It was kind of awesome of him not only to remember I liked Starbucks, but to give me the card.

A moment, a love, a dream, a laugh

Today I was at a bbq at the Ks' house, and on my way home I thought, "Wouldn't it be cool if this is what heaven is like?" And I began to think that this whole week, between VBS and just spending time with a lot of my friends from church, has been full of glimpses of heaven. So here in a brief and incomplete list, is what I suppose heaven will be:

The Art of Losing Myself

A little while ago, a friend of mine suggested I start blogging. I think she likes my perspective on things, and she likes my humor. A lot of people do. But I didn't really know what to write about. So, while I liked the idea, I hesitated on it for a long time. I wanted to be original. I wanted to say something nobody else said. I was also not convinced my non-funny moments were as awesome as my funny ones. But I'm beginning not to care about that so much anymore. I tried blogging once a long time ago, and it got boring. But that's mainly because I let the drama creep in. So, yeah, none of that.

Instead, I'll just write what I want to write about. Could be my faith, could be running and my upcoming triathlon, could be music. Could be my numerous failed attempts at finding Mr. Right (not even close) or my more successful attempts at photography as a side job (just left one job in order to pursue another....) Could be quotes from some of my favorite people, which includes anyone from CS Lewis to Arcade Fire. It's whatever I want, whenever I want. Hopefully it's good.

I might not always be funny. I might not always have much to say. And I definitely won't divulge everything. I'm just going to be honest.

This is the goal of everything I try creatively:

Even in social life, you will never make a good impression on other people until you stop thinking about what sort of impression you are making. Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it.
--C.S. Lewis