Monday night after Liz left, I sat alone for a couple hours. It was weird, going from a house full of people tangling underfoot like puppies to SOLITUDE. Jess had gotten a kitten, however, so I spent the time getting her to fall in love with me.
When Jess came home, we stood around in the kitchen. It was weird, because although we have always been friendly, this felt like--we were trying to step things up a notch? Or I was. I know my relationship with her will never be like my relationship with Liz, but I guess I want a roommate with whom I can share my daily life adventures.
She said her friend had asked about me, how it was probably really hard having my best friend move out. Jess said she'd answered, "Yeah, I think so. I mean, it must be, but she hasn't really shown anything."
And I don't. Neither does Liz. We have broken a couple times. Liz strode into my room, shouted, "I'M GOING TO MISS YOU," and then ran back to her room. One time when Liz was complaining about the practicalities of moving, and I was consoling her, I stopped and said, "No. I don't want to make this easier for you! I don't want you to go!"
So we've admitted how little we like the situation. But we haven't dwelt on it, or had long heartfelt conversations, or, I dunno sulked in public. And I think it's because we're both people who are used to leaving and being left. That's my deal, right? That's the thing I'm proud of myself for, one of the things I can so obviously see God preparing in me, way back in grade school when I was never placed in the same class as my friends. I adapt. And Liz is the same. She moves all the time, and she makes new friends, and that's just how life is.
I don't know if that makes it better or worse? Better, I think, if a little cold. But even though I wish we could live together forever, I never thought that was a possibility. Also, I've gotten used to breaking relationships, or changing them, or putting them in a different category. It seriously does help when you think on a more eternal scale. The friends I had, have, will have--they are all huge parts of my life, threads that weave into my life story as I weave into theirs, and I'm so grateful for all those things. It's always devastating when their thread leaves my pattern, but the design they left is still beautiful and worthy.
And the hope, I guess, of eternity is that our threads and patterns and tapestries will be carried into eternity, where stories will be fleshed out and understood, where relationships will be made solid where once they were fleeting.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
My Mentors: Kim and Clive
On Sunday night, Kim ended our prayer time by saying something like this:
"God, you made us as eternal beings. We aren't meant to have to say goodbye. Help us to see that this goodbye reveals who we truly are as we look forward to the time when we won't ever have to say goodbye again."
I'm feeling very "goodbye" this week. The people around me are the wrong people. The food I'm eating is the wrong food. The house I'm in is the wrong house. In a week or two I will once more appreciate Dallas and the friends, kids, and places here. But I will still miss the Senegal reunion, because it is with them that I feel most like myself.
Kim talking about our weekend as a precursor to eternity got me thinking. I've never really subscribed to eternity as playing harps on a cloud, but I think I did cling to some kind of majestic vision. Now I've got a picture of eternity as resting my head on someone's shoulder, of telling stories that make people laugh, of spontaneously deciding to go out for a delicious snack. There will be picture taking and hugging and lots and lots of laughter. We will all be free to be who we are, the embarrassing habits no longer embarrassing, love and acceptance free.
Of course, I don't know if there will be cameras or Sonics in eternity. But I think the underlying emotions of this past weekend are exactly correct. Friendship, fellowship, fun and worship mixing together in conversations and prayers and songs.
C.S. Lewis talked about his painful visions of joy, of these perfect glimpses of what ought to be, and how devastating it was not to have that all the time. He concluded that "If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world." I long for friendships that do not require a goodbye, and my hope in Christ is that my longing will be realized in the world He is preparing.
"God, you made us as eternal beings. We aren't meant to have to say goodbye. Help us to see that this goodbye reveals who we truly are as we look forward to the time when we won't ever have to say goodbye again."
I'm feeling very "goodbye" this week. The people around me are the wrong people. The food I'm eating is the wrong food. The house I'm in is the wrong house. In a week or two I will once more appreciate Dallas and the friends, kids, and places here. But I will still miss the Senegal reunion, because it is with them that I feel most like myself.
Kim talking about our weekend as a precursor to eternity got me thinking. I've never really subscribed to eternity as playing harps on a cloud, but I think I did cling to some kind of majestic vision. Now I've got a picture of eternity as resting my head on someone's shoulder, of telling stories that make people laugh, of spontaneously deciding to go out for a delicious snack. There will be picture taking and hugging and lots and lots of laughter. We will all be free to be who we are, the embarrassing habits no longer embarrassing, love and acceptance free.
Of course, I don't know if there will be cameras or Sonics in eternity. But I think the underlying emotions of this past weekend are exactly correct. Friendship, fellowship, fun and worship mixing together in conversations and prayers and songs.
C.S. Lewis talked about his painful visions of joy, of these perfect glimpses of what ought to be, and how devastating it was not to have that all the time. He concluded that "If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world." I long for friendships that do not require a goodbye, and my hope in Christ is that my longing will be realized in the world He is preparing.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
#toubabs2013
As an introvert, the idea of spending all day with someone for FOUR DAYS can produce mild panic. Spending four days with twenty people, all crowding in on each other with nowhere to go for solitude, well. It should have been miserable. But somehow the Forsythe's team in Fatick is family, whether or not I have actually met them before.
Liz and I drove to Memphis on Friday, listening to awesome music and talking, which is what we do best. We got to Mallory's apartment and while I never forget that I like Mallory, I always forget just how much (it's a lot). This girl Shannon is doing the Journeyman program in Dakar later this year, and although she knew none of us, she agreed to hang out with a bunch of temporary Senegalese residents. The four of us ate BBQ nachos and took a tour of Mallory's Memphis.
We already had fifty inside jokes by this point, so at the free outdoor concert, we pulled out books to read. Ashley and Stephen came, and we had a wonderful catch-up conversation while not listening to the band. Since it was 9:00 and we still had to drive an 1 1/2 to Jackson, we powered up with coffee, made friends with the barista, and made our way to the Hughes house to spend the night.
Liz's phone went off at 8:15, we snoozed for five minutes until Mallory, who it turns out is a disgusting morning person, bounced on her air mattress and said, "It's 8:20! It's 8:20!" We got up and hung out with Jennie, Dusty, and their kids for a couple hours before heading to Union. Kim met us there; I gave everyone the Tornado Tour and she gave everyone the Kim&Travis Tour. Here is the story of how Kim and Travis met.
*both are walking down the sidewalk with friends*
*Kim notices that Travis is cute*
Kim: Hi!
*Travis ignores Kim*
Kim: HEY. I said hi to you!
*eventually they date, get married, and have four kids*
Words cannot express how much I love their love story.
We arrived at the Forsythe Missionary House Saturday afternoon. I was prepared to dislike everyone I didn't know who had their own Senegal stories that weren't mine, but it turns out everyone was lovely. I think there must be a certain kind of person who chooses, or agrees, to go to West Africa and has a good enough time that they want to reconnect with people who had similar experiences. Because somehow, someway, everyone got along and had fun.
Gloria and Nate had a water wars event planned, so everyone changed into play clothes (I wore a shirt from Jennie and shorts from Gloria--nothing means friendship to me like someone lending me their clothes) and prepared for watery destruction. We had a Hunger Games style battle, but each of us had a particular person we were supposed to kill. I had Lucas, and joy of joys, we ended up in the same safe zone.
Lucas: Do you want to be allies?
Me: Yes! *internally: mwahahaa*
Lucas: How do I know you don't have my name?
Me: You don't.
Lucas: Alright. *runs out of the safe zone*
Me: *chucks water balloon at him and misses*
Me: *chucks water balloon at him and misses*
Me: *chucks water balloon at him and misses*
Me: *chucks water balloon at him and misses*
Ethan: *chucks water balloon at me and hits*
I was out rather quickly, is what I mean. But then all the dead people attacked each other with water balloons and water guns, and it all worked out okay in the end.
Two guys who had gone to Fatick in January had motorcycles, which naturally meant we had to take rides. I borrowed a pair of Nate's jeans to protect my legs, popped on half a helmet, and rode with Biggest Ethan (as compared to the Big Ethan Forsythe) for quite a ways. It was glorious. Until I came back and someone told me he had only been driving a motorcycle for six months and I was his first ever passenger. Everyone else rode with Josiah on a set route with a leather jacket and full helmet. Whoops. At least I'm alive.
For the rest of the afternoon we played games and got to know each other better. Travis and I teamed up for Settlers of Cataan, which made us team T&T. We fist bumped and Nate reminded me we ought to have done a fist explosion, a missed opportunity that I still regret. We also played Quelf, which is guaranteed fun times, especially in getting to know new people. And of course we all arm wrestled, which is how I gauge my relationship with the Forsythe kids. Used to be I could beat Nate quite easily, but now...that is not the case. Even Ethan beat me. Kim got very excited about the idea of leg wrestling, so we moved the furniture in the living room out of the way. I beat her immediately, at which point I was very excited about the idea of leg wrestling. Turns out I've got legs of steel, since I beat Duncan, Ethan, and Nate. I, uh, also lost once to Nate and to Mallory, but we don't speak of those things.
We ordered pizza for dinner, and what with all the cookies and brownies that seemed to never disappear, I had a delicious weekend. However, it turns out that eating so unhealthily takes an iron stomach, something I have lost in Dallas with my avocados and homemade Indian dishes.
Gloria is crazy artistic, and when I found out she can do henna, I practically begged her to decorate my hand. She did a really gorgeous design that didn't stain my hand properly, so I only have evidence in pictures.
We stayed late before heading back to the Hughes house to spend the night. Sunday morning everyone went to church, and....well, I had forgotten it was the Sunday before the 4th of July. It was everything I hate about patriotism within the church, and I might have said, "I hate this" out loud, at which point Liz held my hand and whispered, "Not now. We'll talk about this later." Then they said some more things that made me shaky with anger, and I might have cried during the prayers because all I could think was, "God, forgive me, I'm having a really hard time not hating everyone in here."
I mean, it was bad. Ugh. When the service was over and we got in the car to drive to Subway, I screamed in frustration and Liz and I had a long conversation about everything that so offended us. The upside was that our group took up two whole rows, and when the service was over we all kind of looked at each other and made subtle comments and facial expressions that soothed my heart, because I could not have stood it if my Fatick family had loved the things I had hated.
The other upside is that the rest of the day was wonderful. I almost played Ultimate Frisbee (in Ethan's t-shirt; that's four people I borrowed from if you're counting), but Lucas kind of flipped it in his hands and I flinched so violently that I ran to Liz in embarrassment. Instead I went inside to chat with the other unathletic people, then took a nap. Public napping was one of my favorite things in Fatick, so I like to think I was honoring the integrity of our reunion by sleeping through the afternoon.
When the frisbee-ers came back in, I cuddled against Mallory and had my feet tucked behind Travis, and just--those are the little moments I so loved about the weekend. The comfort that never seems to disappear between myself and these people with whom I shared only five months of my life.
Most of us piled into the Suburban to get Sonic drinks, and when we returned we finally played Fishbowl, which was as entertaining as always, though without any graphic portrayals of childbirth. We ordered Chinese takeout, and Bill and Sally stopped by while we were eating. Nate took me outside to learn how to throw a spiral pass. That didn't happen, but Bill joined us, and I had fun being awful. At one point the football bounced down the front lawn. I grabbed it, and Bill yelled some kind of encouragement. I tossed my hair, said, "Yes, well I'm just so graceful," and twisted my ankle. Seriously.
Ethan brought Melanie (his second wife) flowers, bypassing me completely. Half an hour later he came in with a smaller and less complicated bouquet for me. If I had any doubts before, I now know I do not have the temperament to be in a polygamous marriage, even with a sister-wife as lovely as Melanie. However, we did take several pictures of the three of us.
Driving downtown, Nate happened to be sitting between Melanie and me.
Nate: So, is this an all-Forsythe boy thing?
Me: What?
Nate: We are sitting in the same arrangement.
Me: ...Do you want us to kiss you??
Nate: Well.
Melanie: Ethan gave us flowers first.
Me: Yeah, we don't kiss anyone without payment. Oh. We're prostitutes.
Melanie: But they were flowers!
Nate: Romantic prostitutes.
Downtown, the coffee shop I wanted Liz to experience was closed. However, we all walked around and sang a little and took pictures. Liz found a plaque that described how David Crockett had left Jackson after losing an election, at which point he said, "You can go to hell, but I will go to Texas." I am going to try to remember to say this every time I leave somewhere to return to Dallas.
Back at the house, we stayed up late playing games in which we winked at each other to kill one another or made weird gestures at each other in secret. I promise it was fun. By 11:30, Holly and RC were going to head to their hotel, but they stayed another hour as we prayed for each other. It made me cry. It was lovely.
Liz and Melanie and I shared the bed that night. Melanie apologized for hitting me in the face, which I didn't feel. I apologized for punching Liz, which she didn't feel. Sleeping three to a bed is not something I typically desire, but it was a perfect last night for our family weekend.
In the morning, the remaining athletic people ran to Green Frog. Shannon, Nate, Ethan and I drove there. We all had coffee and breakfast and one last picture. Liz and I were going to leave from downtown, but Travis was not awake to come pick up everyone else, so we carpooled back to the house. We hugged and packed up and left. I immediately started recounting my favorite memories, and Liz and I held on to the weekend by reliving it for as long as possible.
Liz and I drove to Memphis on Friday, listening to awesome music and talking, which is what we do best. We got to Mallory's apartment and while I never forget that I like Mallory, I always forget just how much (it's a lot). This girl Shannon is doing the Journeyman program in Dakar later this year, and although she knew none of us, she agreed to hang out with a bunch of temporary Senegalese residents. The four of us ate BBQ nachos and took a tour of Mallory's Memphis.
We already had fifty inside jokes by this point, so at the free outdoor concert, we pulled out books to read. Ashley and Stephen came, and we had a wonderful catch-up conversation while not listening to the band. Since it was 9:00 and we still had to drive an 1 1/2 to Jackson, we powered up with coffee, made friends with the barista, and made our way to the Hughes house to spend the night.
Liz's phone went off at 8:15, we snoozed for five minutes until Mallory, who it turns out is a disgusting morning person, bounced on her air mattress and said, "It's 8:20! It's 8:20!" We got up and hung out with Jennie, Dusty, and their kids for a couple hours before heading to Union. Kim met us there; I gave everyone the Tornado Tour and she gave everyone the Kim&Travis Tour. Here is the story of how Kim and Travis met.
*both are walking down the sidewalk with friends*
*Kim notices that Travis is cute*
Kim: Hi!
*Travis ignores Kim*
Kim: HEY. I said hi to you!
*eventually they date, get married, and have four kids*
Words cannot express how much I love their love story.
We arrived at the Forsythe Missionary House Saturday afternoon. I was prepared to dislike everyone I didn't know who had their own Senegal stories that weren't mine, but it turns out everyone was lovely. I think there must be a certain kind of person who chooses, or agrees, to go to West Africa and has a good enough time that they want to reconnect with people who had similar experiences. Because somehow, someway, everyone got along and had fun.
Gloria and Nate had a water wars event planned, so everyone changed into play clothes (I wore a shirt from Jennie and shorts from Gloria--nothing means friendship to me like someone lending me their clothes) and prepared for watery destruction. We had a Hunger Games style battle, but each of us had a particular person we were supposed to kill. I had Lucas, and joy of joys, we ended up in the same safe zone.
Lucas: Do you want to be allies?
Me: Yes! *internally: mwahahaa*
Lucas: How do I know you don't have my name?
Me: You don't.
Lucas: Alright. *runs out of the safe zone*
Me: *chucks water balloon at him and misses*
Me: *chucks water balloon at him and misses*
Me: *chucks water balloon at him and misses*
Me: *chucks water balloon at him and misses*
Ethan: *chucks water balloon at me and hits*
I was out rather quickly, is what I mean. But then all the dead people attacked each other with water balloons and water guns, and it all worked out okay in the end.
Two guys who had gone to Fatick in January had motorcycles, which naturally meant we had to take rides. I borrowed a pair of Nate's jeans to protect my legs, popped on half a helmet, and rode with Biggest Ethan (as compared to the Big Ethan Forsythe) for quite a ways. It was glorious. Until I came back and someone told me he had only been driving a motorcycle for six months and I was his first ever passenger. Everyone else rode with Josiah on a set route with a leather jacket and full helmet. Whoops. At least I'm alive.
For the rest of the afternoon we played games and got to know each other better. Travis and I teamed up for Settlers of Cataan, which made us team T&T. We fist bumped and Nate reminded me we ought to have done a fist explosion, a missed opportunity that I still regret. We also played Quelf, which is guaranteed fun times, especially in getting to know new people. And of course we all arm wrestled, which is how I gauge my relationship with the Forsythe kids. Used to be I could beat Nate quite easily, but now...that is not the case. Even Ethan beat me. Kim got very excited about the idea of leg wrestling, so we moved the furniture in the living room out of the way. I beat her immediately, at which point I was very excited about the idea of leg wrestling. Turns out I've got legs of steel, since I beat Duncan, Ethan, and Nate. I, uh, also lost once to Nate and to Mallory, but we don't speak of those things.
We ordered pizza for dinner, and what with all the cookies and brownies that seemed to never disappear, I had a delicious weekend. However, it turns out that eating so unhealthily takes an iron stomach, something I have lost in Dallas with my avocados and homemade Indian dishes.
Gloria is crazy artistic, and when I found out she can do henna, I practically begged her to decorate my hand. She did a really gorgeous design that didn't stain my hand properly, so I only have evidence in pictures.
We stayed late before heading back to the Hughes house to spend the night. Sunday morning everyone went to church, and....well, I had forgotten it was the Sunday before the 4th of July. It was everything I hate about patriotism within the church, and I might have said, "I hate this" out loud, at which point Liz held my hand and whispered, "Not now. We'll talk about this later." Then they said some more things that made me shaky with anger, and I might have cried during the prayers because all I could think was, "God, forgive me, I'm having a really hard time not hating everyone in here."
I mean, it was bad. Ugh. When the service was over and we got in the car to drive to Subway, I screamed in frustration and Liz and I had a long conversation about everything that so offended us. The upside was that our group took up two whole rows, and when the service was over we all kind of looked at each other and made subtle comments and facial expressions that soothed my heart, because I could not have stood it if my Fatick family had loved the things I had hated.
The other upside is that the rest of the day was wonderful. I almost played Ultimate Frisbee (in Ethan's t-shirt; that's four people I borrowed from if you're counting), but Lucas kind of flipped it in his hands and I flinched so violently that I ran to Liz in embarrassment. Instead I went inside to chat with the other unathletic people, then took a nap. Public napping was one of my favorite things in Fatick, so I like to think I was honoring the integrity of our reunion by sleeping through the afternoon.
When the frisbee-ers came back in, I cuddled against Mallory and had my feet tucked behind Travis, and just--those are the little moments I so loved about the weekend. The comfort that never seems to disappear between myself and these people with whom I shared only five months of my life.
Most of us piled into the Suburban to get Sonic drinks, and when we returned we finally played Fishbowl, which was as entertaining as always, though without any graphic portrayals of childbirth. We ordered Chinese takeout, and Bill and Sally stopped by while we were eating. Nate took me outside to learn how to throw a spiral pass. That didn't happen, but Bill joined us, and I had fun being awful. At one point the football bounced down the front lawn. I grabbed it, and Bill yelled some kind of encouragement. I tossed my hair, said, "Yes, well I'm just so graceful," and twisted my ankle. Seriously.
Ethan brought Melanie (his second wife) flowers, bypassing me completely. Half an hour later he came in with a smaller and less complicated bouquet for me. If I had any doubts before, I now know I do not have the temperament to be in a polygamous marriage, even with a sister-wife as lovely as Melanie. However, we did take several pictures of the three of us.
Driving downtown, Nate happened to be sitting between Melanie and me.
Nate: So, is this an all-Forsythe boy thing?
Me: What?
Nate: We are sitting in the same arrangement.
Me: ...Do you want us to kiss you??
Nate: Well.
Melanie: Ethan gave us flowers first.
Me: Yeah, we don't kiss anyone without payment. Oh. We're prostitutes.
Melanie: But they were flowers!
Nate: Romantic prostitutes.
Downtown, the coffee shop I wanted Liz to experience was closed. However, we all walked around and sang a little and took pictures. Liz found a plaque that described how David Crockett had left Jackson after losing an election, at which point he said, "You can go to hell, but I will go to Texas." I am going to try to remember to say this every time I leave somewhere to return to Dallas.
Back at the house, we stayed up late playing games in which we winked at each other to kill one another or made weird gestures at each other in secret. I promise it was fun. By 11:30, Holly and RC were going to head to their hotel, but they stayed another hour as we prayed for each other. It made me cry. It was lovely.
Liz and Melanie and I shared the bed that night. Melanie apologized for hitting me in the face, which I didn't feel. I apologized for punching Liz, which she didn't feel. Sleeping three to a bed is not something I typically desire, but it was a perfect last night for our family weekend.
In the morning, the remaining athletic people ran to Green Frog. Shannon, Nate, Ethan and I drove there. We all had coffee and breakfast and one last picture. Liz and I were going to leave from downtown, but Travis was not awake to come pick up everyone else, so we carpooled back to the house. We hugged and packed up and left. I immediately started recounting my favorite memories, and Liz and I held on to the weekend by reliving it for as long as possible.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Pre-emptively Nostalgic
Today is our last day as roommates. AH. Amy moves out tomorrow, and Liz and I are going to Tennessee. When we get back home, I will go upstairs, and she will drive to Carrollton.
Last night we all sat around and pre-judged the two replacement roommates. Sometimes you have to be mean to avoid feeling sad. That's not a good life lesson. But it's true. Liz and I were kind of cuddled up watching a movie with Greta Gerwig (the movie was okay, and after, Liz said, "the moral of the story is: Greta Gerwig is adorable" which is really all that matters), when Amy came in and later Jess. Jess even put her head in my lap momentarily. We are not a touchy-feely bunch. I mean, actually, I think we all are, but we are mostly touch-receivers rather than touch-initiators, so all that random affection was seriously depressing.
Jess and I are going to be reading cat-lovers, which will be nice, and then Liz started sneezing at the mere mention of cats in the house. Amy entertained us with her Day From Hell; I will miss her drama. Jess and I argued over what movie to watch tonight on our Last Night Together--she wanted to watch The Kite Runner, and I insisted I would cry and didn't want to. Instead I suggested Silver Linings Playbook, but Jess said bipolor was a trigger for her, and Liz piped in and said, "Well, The Kite Runner is pretty bad for Tricia like bipolor is for you. She wouldn't like it." Ugh, Liz. She's my little defender.
ALSO she is weirdly proud of the strangest things about me. Apparently when she was telling Amy and Jess about me before I moved in, she told them I passionately wrote on forum threads about Buffy the Vampire Slayer and liked to make dance videos. They were scared to meet me. When I told Liz that those are not things I want people to know about me before meeting me, she said, "But those are things I love about you!"
UGH, LIZ. I swear, she is so great. She's my best friend and so easy to live with and we get along like a married couple. If friends could get married or something, I might, because I can't imagine living with a husband as seemlessly as I live with her. But friends are often transient, and the power is in the non-commitment--it's choosing to wind the threads of your lives together for awhile, making each other stronger, and then spinning off to separate ways.
I freaking love her, and I'll miss her, and I'm so glad we have a four day roadtrip weekend!
Last night we all sat around and pre-judged the two replacement roommates. Sometimes you have to be mean to avoid feeling sad. That's not a good life lesson. But it's true. Liz and I were kind of cuddled up watching a movie with Greta Gerwig (the movie was okay, and after, Liz said, "the moral of the story is: Greta Gerwig is adorable" which is really all that matters), when Amy came in and later Jess. Jess even put her head in my lap momentarily. We are not a touchy-feely bunch. I mean, actually, I think we all are, but we are mostly touch-receivers rather than touch-initiators, so all that random affection was seriously depressing.
Jess and I are going to be reading cat-lovers, which will be nice, and then Liz started sneezing at the mere mention of cats in the house. Amy entertained us with her Day From Hell; I will miss her drama. Jess and I argued over what movie to watch tonight on our Last Night Together--she wanted to watch The Kite Runner, and I insisted I would cry and didn't want to. Instead I suggested Silver Linings Playbook, but Jess said bipolor was a trigger for her, and Liz piped in and said, "Well, The Kite Runner is pretty bad for Tricia like bipolor is for you. She wouldn't like it." Ugh, Liz. She's my little defender.
ALSO she is weirdly proud of the strangest things about me. Apparently when she was telling Amy and Jess about me before I moved in, she told them I passionately wrote on forum threads about Buffy the Vampire Slayer and liked to make dance videos. They were scared to meet me. When I told Liz that those are not things I want people to know about me before meeting me, she said, "But those are things I love about you!"
UGH, LIZ. I swear, she is so great. She's my best friend and so easy to live with and we get along like a married couple. If friends could get married or something, I might, because I can't imagine living with a husband as seemlessly as I live with her. But friends are often transient, and the power is in the non-commitment--it's choosing to wind the threads of your lives together for awhile, making each other stronger, and then spinning off to separate ways.
I freaking love her, and I'll miss her, and I'm so glad we have a four day roadtrip weekend!
Ranting on the Interwebs!
One of my pet peeves on the Internet (oh man, that's a can of worms) is when people use Scripture to defend their opinion, and it especially bothers me if it's a political opinion. But that's not all. What I hate the most is when someone then refutes that statement with non-logic or disdain for religion or a misunderstanding of Scripture.
This happens all the time with marriage equality. When someone says the Bible says same-sex marriage is wrong, but then someone counters this by saying the Bible is great, but let's acknowledge that it's a 6,000 year old culture-ridden book written by men. And I just start writhing on the floor in a fetal position, because this could be a GREAT conversation, but now everyone is pissed off at each other.
If you want to engage in a conversation (and clearly, most of the time people do not), you have to enter into the world of your conversational partner and speak from their position. So in the first case, Christians should look at the complexity of the Bible from a non-believer's standpoint and empathize with the crazy, because let's be honest, even as a defender of inerrancy, there is a TON I don't understand, and if we bring interpretation into the equation (which we have to), it gets soooo confusing. And non-Christians should realize that they are not going to change any Christian's mind by mocking the Bible or making it less than the revealed word of God. So--engage in the interpretation conversation! There is a conversation to be had if both people respect and acknowledge the position of the other.
I've also been seeing responses to Mike Huckabee's tweet "My thoughts on the SCOTUS ruling that determined that same sex marriage is okay: 'Jesus wept." And the responses are all sassy things about how Jesus would think Mike Huckabee is a jerk, or that they were tears of joy or whatever. And that is also a disconnect! No one goes away happy!
And yeesh, I just want someone to tell Mike Huckabee that you CANNOT take words out of context without cheapening them. Jesus was crying because he was at his friend's tomb, and his other friends were freaking sad about their brother's death, and they didn't trust Jesus or know Him fully yet, and Jesus was sensitive to all that, and there was a lot going on in that moment, but I'm pretty sure the legalization of same sex marriage wasn't one of them. So. Just shut that conversation down, and everyone stop being so bigoted and insulting in perpetuating this awful culture war.
Ugh, the Internet. Basically, this post says I'm smarter than everyone, na na na na na na na.
Ugh, me. I'm so aware of the pridefulness behind this post, but also, I'm totally right. So.
This happens all the time with marriage equality. When someone says the Bible says same-sex marriage is wrong, but then someone counters this by saying the Bible is great, but let's acknowledge that it's a 6,000 year old culture-ridden book written by men. And I just start writhing on the floor in a fetal position, because this could be a GREAT conversation, but now everyone is pissed off at each other.
If you want to engage in a conversation (and clearly, most of the time people do not), you have to enter into the world of your conversational partner and speak from their position. So in the first case, Christians should look at the complexity of the Bible from a non-believer's standpoint and empathize with the crazy, because let's be honest, even as a defender of inerrancy, there is a TON I don't understand, and if we bring interpretation into the equation (which we have to), it gets soooo confusing. And non-Christians should realize that they are not going to change any Christian's mind by mocking the Bible or making it less than the revealed word of God. So--engage in the interpretation conversation! There is a conversation to be had if both people respect and acknowledge the position of the other.
I've also been seeing responses to Mike Huckabee's tweet "My thoughts on the SCOTUS ruling that determined that same sex marriage is okay: 'Jesus wept." And the responses are all sassy things about how Jesus would think Mike Huckabee is a jerk, or that they were tears of joy or whatever. And that is also a disconnect! No one goes away happy!
And yeesh, I just want someone to tell Mike Huckabee that you CANNOT take words out of context without cheapening them. Jesus was crying because he was at his friend's tomb, and his other friends were freaking sad about their brother's death, and they didn't trust Jesus or know Him fully yet, and Jesus was sensitive to all that, and there was a lot going on in that moment, but I'm pretty sure the legalization of same sex marriage wasn't one of them. So. Just shut that conversation down, and everyone stop being so bigoted and insulting in perpetuating this awful culture war.
Ugh, the Internet. Basically, this post says I'm smarter than everyone, na na na na na na na.
Ugh, me. I'm so aware of the pridefulness behind this post, but also, I'm totally right. So.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Boys Will Be Boys
When I picked up Anju this afternoon, she was watching the new One Direction trailer. I was pleased to see that a minute in, a 40-year-old woman was buying a lifesize cutout of Louis. "That's my future," I thought, and I forgot even to feel ashamed.
The thing is, I freaking love boys. Boys and their boyness. No matter the age.
There's a very particular memory I have from college, when Stephanie and her roommates and Kevin and his friends and I all went adventuring in the woods across the street from campus. It felt like an amalgamation of fantasy lands, so we dubbed the exploring MidNarniWartsLand. After we'd traipsed and jumped and nicknamed each other, we popped out of the treeline into a field. Cameron immediately held up his arms as though defending himself with a sword, and Kevin and whats-his-name charged. They had an epic imaginary duel, and they threw themselves to the ground and acted ridiculous.
I was utterly charmed.
Ever since Roy and Aaron allowed (or were forced to allow) me to accompany them on their forest adventures, I have longed to be in BoyVille. The imagination, the danger, the nature, the silliness. It's wonderful. And even though I love, even though I've done it for most of my life, I've always felt like an outsider. The easy affection between boys (which is mostly why I'm obsessed with One Direction, they are freaking adorable with each other) and predisposition for mockery and punching and smiles--that's what I love, but I never felt like I was supposed to be that way. Because when I ran off to play with the boys, my girl friends stayed back. Eventually I stayed back too.
I don't know why that is, and I hate it, and I'm jealous. But despite my outsiderness, whenever I see boys being boys in that particular way, I just fall in love a little. Because that's how life ought to be, or how I want my life to be.
It's also, I think, why I love books like Bridge to Terabithia, where it's the girl who creates a forested fantasy world, or Beren and Luthien in The Silmarillion, who are Tolkien's original epic couple, but who fight together and love together and lose together and find together. And that's what I want. I want a boy with whom I can be a boy. I hope that makes sense after the entirety of the blog.
Also, I'm totally going to pay money to see that One Direction movie. If only I can convince Anju to ask her mother if she can go with me, but make it seem like her idea...
The thing is, I freaking love boys. Boys and their boyness. No matter the age.
There's a very particular memory I have from college, when Stephanie and her roommates and Kevin and his friends and I all went adventuring in the woods across the street from campus. It felt like an amalgamation of fantasy lands, so we dubbed the exploring MidNarniWartsLand. After we'd traipsed and jumped and nicknamed each other, we popped out of the treeline into a field. Cameron immediately held up his arms as though defending himself with a sword, and Kevin and whats-his-name charged. They had an epic imaginary duel, and they threw themselves to the ground and acted ridiculous.
I was utterly charmed.
Ever since Roy and Aaron allowed (or were forced to allow) me to accompany them on their forest adventures, I have longed to be in BoyVille. The imagination, the danger, the nature, the silliness. It's wonderful. And even though I love, even though I've done it for most of my life, I've always felt like an outsider. The easy affection between boys (which is mostly why I'm obsessed with One Direction, they are freaking adorable with each other) and predisposition for mockery and punching and smiles--that's what I love, but I never felt like I was supposed to be that way. Because when I ran off to play with the boys, my girl friends stayed back. Eventually I stayed back too.
I don't know why that is, and I hate it, and I'm jealous. But despite my outsiderness, whenever I see boys being boys in that particular way, I just fall in love a little. Because that's how life ought to be, or how I want my life to be.
It's also, I think, why I love books like Bridge to Terabithia, where it's the girl who creates a forested fantasy world, or Beren and Luthien in The Silmarillion, who are Tolkien's original epic couple, but who fight together and love together and lose together and find together. And that's what I want. I want a boy with whom I can be a boy. I hope that makes sense after the entirety of the blog.
Also, I'm totally going to pay money to see that One Direction movie. If only I can convince Anju to ask her mother if she can go with me, but make it seem like her idea...
Monday, June 24, 2013
Nothing Coherent
There isn't much to write about today because...it was just a lovely day. Weird how it's harder to write about nice things than awful, huh?
I had breakfast with Libby until nearly lunchtime, which is the mark of a good breakfast if you ask me.
The kids and I started week 2 at the pool, which is turning me quite brown.
Me: I love being in the sun!
Anju: Ugh, it's hot.
Me: Yeah. But it's nice for tanning.
Anju: I'm getting tan, I think. I mean, it's hard to tell.
Me: Yeah, you probably are.
Anju: Why do you like being tan?
Me: Mmm, I just think I look prettier with brown skin.
Anju: I have brown skin.
Me: You're pretty all the time.
Also, it is consistently weird to me, every summer, how people just walk around in their underwear at pools and beaches, and no one is bothered by it. And then five minutes later, I'm not bothered by it either. How does such rapid desensitization occur? The human brain is amazing.
I had breakfast with Libby until nearly lunchtime, which is the mark of a good breakfast if you ask me.
The kids and I started week 2 at the pool, which is turning me quite brown.
Me: I love being in the sun!
Anju: Ugh, it's hot.
Me: Yeah. But it's nice for tanning.
Anju: I'm getting tan, I think. I mean, it's hard to tell.
Me: Yeah, you probably are.
Anju: Why do you like being tan?
Me: Mmm, I just think I look prettier with brown skin.
Anju: I have brown skin.
Me: You're pretty all the time.
Also, it is consistently weird to me, every summer, how people just walk around in their underwear at pools and beaches, and no one is bothered by it. And then five minutes later, I'm not bothered by it either. How does such rapid desensitization occur? The human brain is amazing.
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