One of my students wrote an oration about making the best out of any situation--you know making lemonade. Of course, being him, he couldn't just make lemonade. I forget how he got around to it, but he wound up making "piemonade." I would presume that it has much more to do with him liking to eat than anything else.
I was thinking about it today. It's a Tuesday, and I don't like Tuesdays. So, I decided to do as much as I could so the day would at least feel productive. Kinda nice, actually. Really did get a lot accomplished.
In the back of my mind was "piemonade." Obviously (I hope), it's a made up word. How come we don't do things like this more often--create words out of necessity of the context we're working in? It seems so silly that so many people lock themselves into the accepted language/vocabulary. Children do this all the time..they make the word fit the moment, not hunt the pre-existing words that don't really do the moment justice like adults do.
That's what is supposed to be fun about language--that you can play with it. You shouldn't have to master it in order to screw with it a bit. Feeling and being should be prerequisite enough for making the language fit you, not vice versa.
I realized today that I don't like Tuesdays. I don't suppose there's anything much wrong with them, I just don't like them. A friend asked for specific reasons. Well.
1. They aren't Mondays. I actually kind of like Mondays. I like to look at the list of all the things I need to do during the week and make a dent. Tuesdays aren't like that. I guess because I've already started.
2. They aren't Wednesdays. Wednesday is half-way through the week. You know Hump Day.
3. They aren't Thursdays, complete with the "just one more day" feel.
4. They aren't Fridays. TGIF, need I say more?
5. They aren't weekends. Do I have to explain this?
CBS is reairing the CSI fifth season closer tonight. It's the one in which one of the CSIs (Nick) is kidnapped from a supposed crime scene and held for ransom. buried in a Plexiglass coffin. For some reason, I didn't see it when it originally aired. I'm riveted (there's an hour left). I don't want to watch because it's just downright hard, but I can't help but watch it.
It's not hard because of the story line itself. Well, it is that...partially because it's the hot guy in this box. But this one pulls up two of my biggest fears--the dark and enclosed spaces.
I know I'm 29 years old and shouldn't be afraid of the dark, but it doesn't work that way. I've never been able to explain it, and probably never will. But, I've got a nightlight in my bedroom (though it is one of those blue lights that's really soft..I just have to have a touchpoint) and never, ever enter a completely dark room alone. If I can't see what's in there or coming at me, I'm not going in. I realize that might make me look paranoid, but I don't particularly care.
The enclosed space thing is probably more common in adults. Claustrophobia. I don't do well in any situation where I'm feeling confined. Elevators are just barely tolerable, if they're mostly empty or I'm within touching distance of someone I know. Large groups are torture--close quarters and strangers touching me, ugh. I'd always just laughed it off, until December. I was having some breathing/lung capacity tests run. It involves being in a small (Plexiglass) vacuum chamber in order to have me breathe into a machine. Two things got me as soon as the door was closed. I was sitting on this stool and the respiratory therapist's voice came from a hole just behind my head (speaker). That meant I was in a sealed container. And then, I realized that my arms were touching the walls of the chamber. That set me on edge. I'm halfway through the first (of three) stages and I shoved the door open. The therapist jumps and tells me to leave the door closed. Told him that wasn't happening.
Ugh..there's thirty minutes left. Even knowing he makes it through, I'm just sitting on the edge of my seat.
After taking The Wonder Dog on his morning constitutional, I settled in with a great cup of coffee and the Travel Channel. This morning, they were re-airing an episode of Weird Travels in which they discuss Bigfoot. I had no idea that there are reports of Bigfoot in Texas. Specifically, the East Texas, Big Thicket area. My grandfather's ranch is on the far west side of what is traditionally East Texas. His land is majority pine forest and such, just like the Big Thicket area. Hm..wonder if I've missed some obvious clues?
I'm not so sure I'm willing to believe in this stuff. I'm pretty open-minded when it comes to bizarre things, but this might be too far-fetched even for me.
The people the Travel Channel story spotlighted are very into their Bigfoot research. Not only do they believe the creatures exist (and there are reported to be many, many of them), they often believe they have in fact seen irrefutable evidence of them, if not sighting an actual Bigfoot. They conduct investigations that seem rather scientific--evidence collecting, photographs, written reports when the investigation is finished. Good for them.
Regardless, watching the show prompted me to hit the Internet. Being a librarian, I live to research. Here are the two most interesting sites I ran across.
Bigfoot of East Texas ~~ This one neither instills confidence nor provides sufficient evidence that they aren't nutty. The reported sightings/hearings could be attributed to any number of un-fantastic things. Also, the pictures they've got posted don't show anything I haven't seen when I've moved branches and rocks around in the woods myself.
Texas Bigfoot Research Center ~~ Okay, these guys are better organized, they even host a conference every year. I think this is the group featured on the Travel Channel show, I recognize a couple of images that were flashed on the screen. Anyway, the site details handprint evidence, research studies, and has a pretty broad collection of sitings in Texas and surrounding states. (There was even a fairly recent report of a siting about 5 miles from my grandfather's place!) What I liked best though was the bit on photographs. These guys actually discredited some of the more "well-known" alleged pictures. Nice strategy--prove your own legitimacy by disproving someone else's.
I don't want to sound sarcastic or condescending. I'm sure these people are sincere in their belief/knowledge of Bigfoot creatures and their existence. I'm not. My inability to believe was actually supported by the Travel Channel's show. Everyone of the people they talked to in conjunction with the East Texas studies appeared to be what we call "good ol' boys" round here. Now, I may have missed the portion of the show where their credentials were detailed, but frankly I doubt it. I'll even go so far as to admit that maybe I'm being a bit stereotypical, if not a bit hypocritical, since so many of my friends and family members could be labeled good ol' boys and I happen to know they're intelligent and credentialed people.
So, everyone's freaking out over Cheney. Of course, from what I can gather, in most arenas more are concerned that the American public didn't know until 15-18 hours after the event rather than the fact that he shot a man. Unless you happen to have lunch at my school. Apparently the laying of the blame was a HOT topic one day this week.
Please don't get me wrong--I'm sorry that the poor man was shot and subsequently suffered a minor heart attack. I mean, yes, hunting accidents are definitely a concern, but they happen. The majority of the time there is absolutely nothing newsworthy about them--they might garner a tiny blurb in the local paper. Certainly there's no reason to begin questioning the motives of the Cheney or the White House.
Had the man shot been a foreign dignitary that Cheney was entertaining and buttering up before some trade deal was negotiated, sure, I'd expect to hear about it on the news. But the man is an old friend. If the incident even merited news coverage, I can completely understand not publicizing it until being relatively certain that the man was okay.
There's nothing in stone that says a government official's personal life automatic property of the public and the media when he or she takes office. I realize that it does, de facto. That aside, absolutely nothing in the world should assume that the personal lives of their friends or colleagues should be public knowledge.
I hate Valentine's Day. I always have. It's nothing personal--towards anyone, least of Valentine himself.
And, it's not because I'm bitter about not having a man. Frankly, the last time I did have a man, I got roses for Valentine's Day. My question--why'd it take a commercialized holiday to get flowers? Not that I'm expecting anything any day of the year, but that's not the point.
So, in honor of this day, I'll share 2 sites with you.
I was going to post the link to the ad the loser had up--certainly sounded legitimate. However, the powers that be finally paid attention to a complaint, and deleted the ad and all things associated with the guy's ID. Woohoo.
Okay, so it's Saturday afternoon. But the day's been easy. Slow, but easy.
Did a run today. Sorta. It's not one of my "scheduled" days to run (those would be Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday). I found this training schedule for "couch potato to 5Ks" on the web. I'm on week 2. It hurts sometimes (read "everytime"), but hell, it oughta be worth it in the end. Anyway, I ran today 'cuz I knew it would feel good. And it did..once I got back and showered and rubbed my legs down.
The Wonder Dog and I have been lazing about the whole afternoon. Usually, I do that on Sundays, but we've got an event at church tomorrow, so I'll be lucky to see my home before 9 p.m. Today was just a good day to throw some bad television on and commune with the couch. At some point, I'll get up and get dressed to go out. Some friends of mine from high school are going t some karaoke thing tonight and invited me along. They think I'll join them onstage. Ha. I won't get that drunk. Not by a long shot.
So, I went grocery shopping in the rain last night. There's nothing quite like dashing from the car to the door of Wal-Mart in the rain. (The umbrella was left, with the other 3, in my office. One day, I'll remember to bring those stupid things home.) I dash in, and get a buggy, do a quick check of how bad I look in the mirror by the Maybelliene display. Crap..that's what I looked like. Actually, more like a drowned rat, but it's Friday at the Wal-Mart, who do I have to impress?
$175 (yikes!) and 1 hour later, I've been hit on twice. Apparently, drowned rat is attractive to biker redneck. Who'da thunk it?
So, some things came to light in my head this evening. I won't go into details, as there's really no point, even in the semi-anonymity of this blog. Suffice to say, it's a whole new me getting out of bed tomorrow. I've picked out a friend to hold me to it, and I'm feeling confident and safe knowing I can do this.
You know what really got me? In a ministry team meeting at church this evening, we did a quick, one-verse Bible study to close the meeting. We read Psalm 130:6...
My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning. And, yes, we did discuss what that means--that what we wait for in waiting for God is ever so much more than what the watchmen who've been standing guard all night receive when the sun rises.
The last question though was "When do you consciously wait on the Lord?" I was reminded of another passage..."Be still, and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10). I've never believed that the psalmist intended us to read those words as a whisper.
When do I consciously wait on the Lord? When He smacks me over the head and shouts "BE STILL."