Who Knew Skipping Church Could Feel So Good?

The holidays really are a bittersweet time of year.  I feel like there is something significant missing from nearly every sphere of my life, and those holes are more apparent during happy holiday times.

Most of the time, those absences merely combine to form a general dissatisfaction with life.  I've become used to that, and most of the time I don't think about it.  But the past few days I've been a bit overwhelmed.  So after first service, I went home.  Side bar: It's super weird to go out and return home by 9:15 in the morning.

With the help of my cuddly, purry cat and then a night of playing Fishbowl with friends, I'm feeling better.  Even though I sorely miss having friends to talk to, deep and personal and often, my friends in Peoria never fail to make me laugh.  And 95% of the time, that's enough.

Kids and HIMYM

I have thoughts about this weeks How I Met Your Mother, because it was actually kind of thinky!  And relevant to my interests.

Robin is a career-minded woman who doesn't want kids.  She thinks she is pregnant, then finds out the exact opposite is true--she can never have kids.  She then has a mini-breakdown.

I was watching with squint-eyes, because I hate the idea that all women, no matter how anti-baby, will inevitably fall under the sway of babypower.  I myself am not hugely baby-centric.  I joke about not wanting kids, but really, I figure it'll happen.  In fact, if we have an honest conversation, I will tell you I want either zero or a bunch.  And I've said before that if it ended up that I were unable to have kids, I would be okay with that (mainly because of my desire to adopt regardless).

I still feel those things, I think.  But HIMYM opened me up to....I dunno.  More feelings?  What I mean is, I really liked how they handled it!  Robin's reaction rang true when she said there is a difference between not wanting something and having that something not even be a possibility.  I get that.  There's a bit of selfishness, of wanting control.  There's also some honesty, that somewhere deep down she liked the idea of maybe having a kid or two.

I really liked her monologue about not having kids meaning she could travel and work and not be bogged down by anything because my face was like, "YOU ARE SPEAKING MY BRAIN."  And in the end, the voiceover tells us she did go on to do great things, travel awesome places, and fulfill life goals.

But that doesn't discount the tragedy.

I don't know how much sense I'm making.  This all just felt like it was related to my brainspace, and I came away thinking that if I cannot have kids....I'll be sad.  I can admit that.  It would suck to be unable to have kids.  But if that happens, my life is not over.  My usefulness is not over.  I can still be awesome and do awesome things.

I always knew my life wouldn't be over.  I didn't think I'd grieve.

Look at me, growing and learning because of a sitcom.

Brilliant Way of Showing the Ubiquitous Sexualization of Women in Media

Things I Love: Ee

Ewan McGregor

Way back when Star Wars: Episode 1 came out, I remember going home and writing a love letter to Young Obi Wan Kenobi on my whiteboard.  He was the cutest Jedi I'd ever seen.  A couple years later, I watched Moulin Rouge and fell in love with Christian.  It took me awhile, but I eventually realized that I had fallen in love with the SAME GUY.  Twice. 

Ewan manages to be cute in an unintimidating way, and his versatility is pretty remarkable.  I do like him for more than his looks, I promise.  Big Fish is one of my favorite movies that I always forget about, and A Life Less Ordinary is one of the most hilarious cracktastic movies of all time.

I will always love him for singing "Come What May" in such an earnest and adorable way.  And for being one of the first men I ever saw wear eyeliner.


Ents

Guardians of forests!  I love forests.  I love trees.  So the idea that there could be walking, talking trees hanging about, ready to unleash some Nature Fury on industrialists?  Awesome. 

I'm pretty sure the image of the Ent burning while attacking Isengard was one of the saddest in the movie.  Thank goodness he bent over and dowsed himself.

Maybe the saddest thing ever is the fate of the Entwives.  Where are they?  Will the Ents ever be reunited with the Entwives?  Are they all dead or turned tree?  MY HEART NEEDS TO KNOW.

(Oh my gosh, while looking for Ent pictures on google, there were pictures of the Whomping Willow.  THIS IS NOW FACT.  The Whomping Willow is an Ent who has turned mostly tree.)


Eric Northman

I never got into True Blood.  I just...really don't care for stories set in the South.  Plus the blood was like KABLOOEY and there was a lot of gratuitous nudity and I just gave up after an episode or two.

However.

There was Eric Northman.  A tall Viking vampire!  Who is all super confident and, "Sookie, you will love me whether you want to or not.  HAHA made you drink my blood!  Now you will love me.  No, I don't care that you are in love with someone else.  I can wait."

I...really like jerks?  (See next entry.)  And he's really cute.  So thanks to the magic of Youtube, I have watched only Eric's scenes for every single episode.  Sometimes they make no sense, but I have watched 8-15 minutes of every episode of True Blood.  *hangs head in shame, but not really since I'm admitting it on the interwebs*


Egotistical Fictional Characters

What I really mean is, I like Magnificent Bastards, but I figured I'd have plenty of things that start with M, and E is really hard. 

TV Tropes defines the Magnificent Bastard as "Capturing the audience with his charisma, incredible intellect, mastery of manipulation, and boldness of action, this character is a show-stealer, demanding your reverence at every turn," adding that he or she "is brilliant and utterly devious, is a smooth operator, has a goal, and is charismatic."

This is my favorite kind of character.

Examples also include:  Eric Northman from True Blood.  Magneto from X-Men.  The Joker from The Dark Knight. Draco Malfoy in my head canon of Harry Potter.

NOTE:  I adore these characters in fiction.  In real life, I'm pretty sure I would punch them in the face. 


Eleven

Okay, so Eleven is not my favorite regeneration of The Doctor.  He is....probably not even my second favorite.  BUT.  He starts with an E, and even my least favorite regeneration of The Doctor is still really super awesome.

I love Eleven's whimsy.  His episodes with Craig are him at his best, flailing around and being inscrutable.  I love his giraffe dance.  I love his bow tie and suspenders (though I cannot be a fez fan).  I love how his childlike cherub face can abruptly change into either terrifying mad face or old man face.  I like his flirtatiousness with River.

He is the Hipster Doctor, and oh yeah, I forgot to mention his voice is about the best thing my ears have ever heard.  If The Doctor ever came to take me away on adventures, I would prefer Ten.  But in no way would I turn down Eleven.

C'mon Doctor. Take Me To New Worlds.

La di da, I like to travel and I like to read (stating the obvious).

I had sort of put together that part of my love of reading is the desire for escapism.  Life not exciting enough?  Relationships not witty enough?  Read a book!

But I'd never realized how much my love of traveling is also a form of escapism until today.  Something disappointing happened, and I was all "lol checking plane tickets bye!"

In retrospect, I do this a lot.  Job is boring--where should I go this weekend?  I am insulted--I'll just go visit a friend who likes me.  Can't handle it anymore--FINE I'LL JUST LEAVE THE COUNTRY KTHX.

I am a very mature and emotionally versatile person.

Haha.

But really, I want to go somewhere.  Nowish.

Service Weekend

The college group kind of massively slacked on planning this year's Service Weekend until a flurry of activity last Sunday (what is with December coming immediately after November?), but I am pleased to say it went amazingly well!

When visiting church members, one person remarked that it was cool the college kids and youth were working together.  David said, "Most of my friends are already in college, so it's great to still have them around."  I added, "And some of us just don't want to grow up."

And I don't!  Not if it means giving up lock-ins and cookie extravaganzas and chasing people around for teasing me.  I love it.

I know some people are concerned with the current state of the youth group, and sometimes I agree.  However, this weekend I most definitely didn't.  I put my administrator hat on, and every time I asked someone to put peanut butter on crackers, or clean up tables, or make sure the couch cushions were replaced, people jumped to obey and serve and generally be awesome.

We made loads of cookies on Friday night, then had a mini worship service.  Nathan talked about the Lord's Prayer and we sang along to some youtube songs (oh Senegal worship services, you taught me so much!).  David reminded me of this awesome video, which you should probably go and watch right this second, and we ended the service with that.

Instead of Christian Guard, we played dodgeball until 12:30 a.m.  By we, I mean not me.  There are many P.E. games that emotionally scarred me, but probably none more than dodgeball.  Lindsay and I sat on the kitchen ledge, and even when balls hit the wall twenty feet from me, I usually screamed like a terrified girl, which I was.  Especially when Jeff threw a ball right in between us, nearly giving me a heart attack.  In fairness, he did come over to hug us after the game was over.

I went to bed by 1:00, because I'd agreed to help Josh and Nick make breakfast at 6:30 in the morning.  After I got up and washed my face, I padded into the dark kitchen.  I kind of walked in circles before realizing no one else was awake.  I thought Josh had pranked me or changed the plans and forgotten to tell me, so I went to curl up in a chair in the boy's Sunday School room.  Just as I was about to drift off to sleep, Josh walked by and turned on the kitchen light.

Saturday morning we divided into groups (me, David, Colten) to visit some of the older church members.  We went to the Thompsons first.  Pat and her sister met us there and kept the conversation rolling.  Mariana was not very cognizant most of the time, but before we left, Pat suggested we sing some Christmas songs.  After the first verse of "Joy to the World," Mariana asked, "Is that it?"  Of course, we then sang four more songs.  Her face was lit up and beautiful and she sang and harmonized and knew every single word.  It was extraordinary.  In the multiple retellings of our adventures, David and I agreed that it was the best moment of the weekend.

We went to the Tolson's afterwards, and Elmer is generally a boss.  I love events like this, because I got to learn way more about them than I ever would have on my own.  I have finally reached the age where I like to hear about the past and how things are different.  I like hearing the stories of these spiritual giants, and the way they live awesome lives and are so humble about it all.

Our last visit was with Margaret Guenther.  I asked a nurse to point us to her room, and she said Margaret was the one sitting in the hallway with a maroon sweater.  She pointed down the hall where two women in maroon sweaters were sitting in wheelchairs against the wall and two other women in maroon sweaters were wheeling themselves down the other side of the hall.  As we passed them, the front self-propelled wheelchair woman said in the squeakiest voice imaginable, "I'm afraid I'm not a speed demon today!"  It was adorable.

David had visited Margaret before, so he chose the maroon-sweatered woman most likely to be Margaret.  She can't talk past a breathy mumble, and I couldn't understand a thing.  We talked to her about birds and Christmas and stuff.  It was very awkward, because I had been told her mind is still active, but I just had no idea what she was saying.  For all I knew, she could have said, "I hate birds!  Stop talking about that awful birdcage!"

When we decided to go, I gave her a hug.  Then she hugged David and said, SAID, "Merry Christmas to you too," and gave him the biggest hug.  When he got up, we looked at each other with swimmy eyes and about died.  Unanimously agreed to be the second best moment of the weekend.

When all the groups reconvened at church, we swapped stories over Avantis gondolas, then cleaned everything.

Lovely.  Really lovely.  Part of why we do the weekend is to show the youth that serving others can be genuinely fun.  It doesn't have to be a chore.  But psh, who cares about them?  It was nice to be reminded of that myself.

A Hairy Situation

I've been bored with my hair lately, but not so bored that I did anything about it.

Yesterday at church Wendy mentioned a facebook status I'd written about being bored with my hair.  She said she was worried I'd show up having done something drastic.  Immediately three people told me to leave my hair alone.

Mark:  If you are bored, change your nails.
Me:  But hair grows back!
Mark:  Your hair is so pretty like this.
Me:  ...So it wouldn't be pretty if I changed it?
Mark:  *backtrack*

After so many people telling me not to change my hair, I went ahead and dyed it red this evening.

Nothing helps me make up my mind more than people telling me not to do something.

On the other hand, I've not cut it or anything.  Yet.

Edited to Add:  Tsk.  So much for being rebellious.  $3 hair dyes are $3 for a reason.