I have been madly craving toast for the past week now, and I can't seem to get my hands on any satisfactory piece that has been toasted just right.
My dilemma:
1. Toasters in the dorm are illegal.
2. The caf has a toaster oven, not a toaster. yes, this difference severely impacts my preferences.
I NEED A TOASTER.
I bring my very own spreads into the caf in hopes of that blasted toaster toasting my cravings to perfection. My Vegemite and orange marmalade have made many an excursion to the caf with me, and I have decided that today is the day of perfect toast quality.
A trivial matter, of course, but one that would make me a temporarily happier person if a solution were to be found...
Calling all generous toaster owners...
Friday, August 31, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Sugar-Plum Tree
Agog. Cavorting. Definitely the future child's nighttime poem.
THE SUGAR-PLUM TREE
by: Eugene Field (1850-1895)
AVE you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?- 'T is a marvel of great renown!
- It blooms on the shore of the Lollipop sea
- In the garden of Shut-Eye Town;
- The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet
- (As those who have tasted it say)
- That good little children have only to eat
- Of that fruit to be happy next day.
- When you 've got to the tree, you would have a hard time
- To capture the fruit which I sing;
- The tree is so tall that no person could climb
- To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing!
- But up in that tree sits a chocolate cat,
- And a gingerbread dog prowls below--
- And this is the way you contrive to get at
- Those sugar-plums tempting you so:
- You say but the word to that gingerbread dog
- And he barks with such terrible zest
- That the chocolate cat is at once all agog,
- As her swelling proportions attest.
- And the chocolate cat goes cavorting around
- From this leafy limb unto that,
- And the sugar-plums tumble, of course, to the ground--
- Hurrah for that chocolate cat!
- There are marshmallows, gumdrops, and peppermint canes,
- With stripings of scarlet or gold,
- And you carry away of the treasure that rains
- As much as your apron can hold!
- So come, little child, cuddle closer to me
- In your dainty white nightcap and gown,
- And I 'll rock you away to that Sugar-Plum Tree
- In the garden of Shut-Eye Town.
Confusion
The powder I wear on my face is confusion.
Confusum est, quidquid usque in pulverem sectum est.
Confusum est, quidquid usque in pulverem sectum est.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Moratorium: Ethereal Moment #500
December 21, 1940 was a cold and blustering winter's day in New York City as Ellsworth, still in his youthful years, bounded through the crowded streets. Eating soda bread from the local Irish bakery was a daily routine for Ellsworth, but today was different. Today was the day Artie Shaw's song, Frenesi, had reached number one on the Billboard pop chart, and Ellsworth quite liked the tune. So there we have it, Ellsworth in 1940 bounding down the street with a masterpiece of a song in mind and a loaf of warm bread in hand that would later lead to his imminent death while he was imitating the clarinet's solo in his recently-acquainted song by the soda bread crumbling and dramatically entering his lungs Had he, in fact, gained more familiarity with the song before he had taken all ambitions and improvised, he would have known that C-sharp was not a note at all, the very imitated note that sent him sputtering; rather, B-flat was the actual note, and that, my friends, would have only led him to a mere hiccup. Still to this day, no one can ever be sure whether the air Clarinet or the soda bread is to blame for Ellsworth's unfortunate death. A tombstone somewhere in New York City reflects this uncertainty by reading "Here lyeth the man who could neither play the air Clarinet nor bite off less than he could chew."
Howard was a year 2009 hipster from somewhere in New York City. He too bounded through the crowded streets. Howard would often be found expanding his inner horizons by sampling foreign foods. In fact, it was well known by his fellow hipsters that Howard had never sampled the same foreign food twice because he was on a quest to find the optimum food for his becoming ethnic routine. The scrumptious aromas of sweet bread poured out of the little run-down Irish bakery, drawing in the mesmerized hipster. Suddenly, a piece of soda bread was shoved into his small hipster mouth, and Miike Snow's song Song For No One played on he little raspy radio. Howard left that small Irish bakery every day until he died, coincidentally, choking on a mouthful of soda bread. Still to this day, everyone knows why Howard died. Simple. The bread was too dry for his little hipster throat. I can't even imagine what would have been the outcome had Howard pretended to exercise his impeccable air Clarinet skills.
So there we have it, Miike Snow stealing tunes from Artie Shaw and bread-related deaths.
Because let's face it, 1. the two songs sound very similar. 2. soda bread surpasses all breads. consume with caution.
Howard was a year 2009 hipster from somewhere in New York City. He too bounded through the crowded streets. Howard would often be found expanding his inner horizons by sampling foreign foods. In fact, it was well known by his fellow hipsters that Howard had never sampled the same foreign food twice because he was on a quest to find the optimum food for his becoming ethnic routine. The scrumptious aromas of sweet bread poured out of the little run-down Irish bakery, drawing in the mesmerized hipster. Suddenly, a piece of soda bread was shoved into his small hipster mouth, and Miike Snow's song Song For No One played on he little raspy radio. Howard left that small Irish bakery every day until he died, coincidentally, choking on a mouthful of soda bread. Still to this day, everyone knows why Howard died. Simple. The bread was too dry for his little hipster throat. I can't even imagine what would have been the outcome had Howard pretended to exercise his impeccable air Clarinet skills.
So there we have it, Miike Snow stealing tunes from Artie Shaw and bread-related deaths.
Because let's face it, 1. the two songs sound very similar. 2. soda bread surpasses all breads. consume with caution.
Moratorium: Honorable Act #XYZ1
While driving through my neighborhood to my own house and up my own driveway, it has come to my attention that an honorable act remains unnoticed or perceived to be as honorable as it is.
Mowing. To see a man mowing his own yard is such an honorable act.
But, to see a woman mowing their own yard is disgustingly honorable.
I still hold by a man pulling his own weight in a running household, even if it may appear to be "just a woman's duty."
A woman works out of the home. And then she comes home and works in the home. She cooks, cleans the house and dishes, does laundry, gardens, schedules events, entertains, manages the bills, takes care of the broken sprinkler head, paints the mailbox, sews the curtains and then hangs them by herself.
Must you make her mow the grass, too? Is that beneath you, too.
Do your honorable act.
Mow the grass, and take out the trash.
In my personal opinion by observation, there might not be anything more honorable than doing these "mundane" things to take part in the system of a household.
You cannot respect a man who does not respect the running household.
So, do you wish to be honorable? =>DO HONORABLE THINGS.
Mowing. To see a man mowing his own yard is such an honorable act.
But, to see a woman mowing their own yard is disgustingly honorable.
I still hold by a man pulling his own weight in a running household, even if it may appear to be "just a woman's duty."
A woman works out of the home. And then she comes home and works in the home. She cooks, cleans the house and dishes, does laundry, gardens, schedules events, entertains, manages the bills, takes care of the broken sprinkler head, paints the mailbox, sews the curtains and then hangs them by herself.
Must you make her mow the grass, too? Is that beneath you, too.
Do your honorable act.
Mow the grass, and take out the trash.
In my personal opinion by observation, there might not be anything more honorable than doing these "mundane" things to take part in the system of a household.
You cannot respect a man who does not respect the running household.
So, do you wish to be honorable? =>DO HONORABLE THINGS.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Moratorium: Emily XIX
Think about your pain, your sorrows, and you will see that they have no real beginning. They just were. You might be able to think of an event that first sparked this pang of pain, but then again pain might have only been felt quite a time afterwards. Can pain be pinpointed? Would one conclude, then, that pain is ever present, a constant, and it is only ever given leave to raise to the surface when happiness can no longer suppress or overcome?
Or, maybe...
That is why happiness and joy are so different. Joy is constant. Happiness is temporary. So, the gaps between happiness reveal the pain - because one can have a constant joy while possessing pain. Pain is merely magnified due to its undesired or unpleasant realities.
This too shall pass.
To make passage for the next wave.
Take note. Take joy. Love Emily Dickinson.
| PAIN has an element of blank; | |
| It cannot recollect | |
| When it began, or if there were | |
| A day when it was not. | |
| It has no future but itself, | 5 |
| Its infinite realms contain | |
| Its past, enlightened to perceive | |
| New periods of pain. |
Or, maybe...
That is why happiness and joy are so different. Joy is constant. Happiness is temporary. So, the gaps between happiness reveal the pain - because one can have a constant joy while possessing pain. Pain is merely magnified due to its undesired or unpleasant realities.
This too shall pass.
To make passage for the next wave.
Take note. Take joy. Love Emily Dickinson.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Moratorium: not the every day response
Upon a stranger dramitically expressing her terrible situation of pinching her finger, as if it had ruined her day, I responded with the following:
"Trying trivialtes often appear to be the greatest misfortunes. Oh calamity!"
With which I was given a glare of reproach for my seemingly heartless remark.
"Trying trivialtes often appear to be the greatest misfortunes. Oh calamity!"
With which I was given a glare of reproach for my seemingly heartless remark.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Moratorium: permission to withdraw
I have had it!
I am not giving up; I am simply going to bed now so that in order of waking up early tomorrow morning I can just have some more of it.
This meantime is my temporary withdraw.
So, I withdraw.
I am not giving up; I am simply going to bed now so that in order of waking up early tomorrow morning I can just have some more of it.
This meantime is my temporary withdraw.
So, I withdraw.
Moratorium: sweet talk
I can see straight through you if you sweet talk me, so don't give me that opportunity.
Kind intentional genuine gestures and words never fail, and that I can see.
So don't sweet talk me. Just talk sweetly.
Kind intentional genuine gestures and words never fail, and that I can see.
So don't sweet talk me. Just talk sweetly.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Moratorium: Pandora, and its Pandora's Box
Pandora's name was rightly given so. I cant stop listening to it. I must constantly switch between the stations that I chose out of fear of missing a song I might like or wish to listen to.
I opened the box when I first so greedily searched for stations of my liking. It has trapped me. I am trapped in this box.
I opened the box when I first so greedily searched for stations of my liking. It has trapped me. I am trapped in this box.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Moratorium: book weather
As I have just discovered, the much coveted book reading weather does not exist. We always wish for the "perfect book reading weather" to be a dark and stormy afternoon to set this iconic mood, but let's face it, you'll end up falling asleep.
You will have fallen asleep mid-sentence, no matter how enthralling the wordplay and twisted metaphors are. You could have been traipsing through the grove of death with Conrad, wandering through the old country graveyard with Grey seeing tombstones of potential, or my weirdly creepy favorite, opening the window with many a flirt and flutter to a certain nameless here, forevermore. And more than likely, you were, at least I was until the heavens let loose their peaceful chaos.
I fell asleep only because I was content, even though my heart was rapidly beating with excitement as the Marlin circled the minute dingy, or completely distraught when Mandy fell ill, alone in the rain after climbing over the wall for what would appear to be the last time. I was perfectly content, and I let my mind take a different form of repose with which my own subconscious story could be employed.
So yes, I admit, as I groggily arise from a rested adventure; I fell asleep.
The perfect book weather does not exist - it's not like the authors wrote only in rain or only in shine, or intended for book XYZ to be read only when the sky turns an ominous orange color in the afternoon after a summer rain shower.
But the perfect book to subconscious self-discovery weather, does.
You will have fallen asleep mid-sentence, no matter how enthralling the wordplay and twisted metaphors are. You could have been traipsing through the grove of death with Conrad, wandering through the old country graveyard with Grey seeing tombstones of potential, or my weirdly creepy favorite, opening the window with many a flirt and flutter to a certain nameless here, forevermore. And more than likely, you were, at least I was until the heavens let loose their peaceful chaos.
I fell asleep only because I was content, even though my heart was rapidly beating with excitement as the Marlin circled the minute dingy, or completely distraught when Mandy fell ill, alone in the rain after climbing over the wall for what would appear to be the last time. I was perfectly content, and I let my mind take a different form of repose with which my own subconscious story could be employed.
So yes, I admit, as I groggily arise from a rested adventure; I fell asleep.
The perfect book weather does not exist - it's not like the authors wrote only in rain or only in shine, or intended for book XYZ to be read only when the sky turns an ominous orange color in the afternoon after a summer rain shower.
But the perfect book to subconscious self-discovery weather, does.
Moratorium: all the single women
If you were to sit in the front pew and turn around, you will most likely see a sea of nurtured faces that have a hint of sentimentalism and forlornness about them. The nurtured aspect comes not from other peoples nurturing, rather it is a self-derived nurturing.
The nurtured look is one of long suffering in the Lord.
To all the single women and mothers out there attending church every Sunday, rain or shine, their children well fed and dressed for Sunday school, the kitchen table already cleared and a pot roast lunch in the crock pot, the car parked in the optimum spot under the shade, extra medications and snacks packed in the purse next to the bible, sitting all by themselves with a sad smile on their faces, every Sunday, every Sunday, I applaud you. I thank you.
I thank you for your dedication, abounding love, taking life's trials in stride with diligence, your consistent nurturing and anticipation of duties, and more.
I thank you.
I don't know your story, and you don't know mine.
A man has failed you and replaced your honor with the terrible and untrue belief that "a woman is replaceable." You are not. They are selfish. You have done no wrong.
"The soul is the mind's eye." You can't change someone's heart that is selfish. You can't make someone love you, even though you are more precious than rubies and deserve all of the love in th world. You will not rightfully or unconditionally get that love because we live in a world so deeply seeded with hate. Satan is a home wrecker; he will tear your family apart. Stay strong, dear ones. Fight, so you can truly say that at the end of the race, you have fought the fight.
It takes two to hold up the deal, and although both of you have stared into the face of evil destruction of lies, the other half of the commitment has broken the trust.
Though you may be alone, remain strong, raise your children with your head held high in the Lord. Raise your children in the Lord. Do not succumb to the evils of this world, for although your children are young, they will learn by your demonstration.
Do not feel shamed by the "such a shames" that have come your way.
If the Lord brings you to it, he will bring you through it.
God help us.
God bless you, dear single, abandoned by men, women of the Lord.
The nurtured look is one of long suffering in the Lord.
To all the single women and mothers out there attending church every Sunday, rain or shine, their children well fed and dressed for Sunday school, the kitchen table already cleared and a pot roast lunch in the crock pot, the car parked in the optimum spot under the shade, extra medications and snacks packed in the purse next to the bible, sitting all by themselves with a sad smile on their faces, every Sunday, every Sunday, I applaud you. I thank you.
I thank you for your dedication, abounding love, taking life's trials in stride with diligence, your consistent nurturing and anticipation of duties, and more.
I thank you.
I don't know your story, and you don't know mine.
A man has failed you and replaced your honor with the terrible and untrue belief that "a woman is replaceable." You are not. They are selfish. You have done no wrong.
"The soul is the mind's eye." You can't change someone's heart that is selfish. You can't make someone love you, even though you are more precious than rubies and deserve all of the love in th world. You will not rightfully or unconditionally get that love because we live in a world so deeply seeded with hate. Satan is a home wrecker; he will tear your family apart. Stay strong, dear ones. Fight, so you can truly say that at the end of the race, you have fought the fight.
It takes two to hold up the deal, and although both of you have stared into the face of evil destruction of lies, the other half of the commitment has broken the trust.
Though you may be alone, remain strong, raise your children with your head held high in the Lord. Raise your children in the Lord. Do not succumb to the evils of this world, for although your children are young, they will learn by your demonstration.
Do not feel shamed by the "such a shames" that have come your way.
If the Lord brings you to it, he will bring you through it.
God help us.
God bless you, dear single, abandoned by men, women of the Lord.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Moratorium: ugly vengeance
I am angry. I am an unsatisfied customer, and I plan on looking as ugly as possible for my return visit at the store. Customer service has taken its toll on my tried patience.
If looking ugly is the only way I can get back at humanity for its cruel fate, then I will do my best. It's not a very difficult task, and I accept my challenge of vengeance.
I've a case of the "ugly vengeance."
If looking ugly is the only way I can get back at humanity for its cruel fate, then I will do my best. It's not a very difficult task, and I accept my challenge of vengeance.
I've a case of the "ugly vengeance."
Moratorium: bread of idleness
Don't eat it! Don't be a gluttonous swine indulging that selfish and unrelenting unproductivity.
You were not meant to be
a lump on a log
or a frog in a bog,
catching whatever fly might come your way.
Eventually you will starve
because you've eaten the flies.
You've done your selfish part,
and now you must try to make up for that sadly lost time.
Swine, flies, humans. Basically the same thing.
If you've seen the movie, Casanova, you would remember the iconic scene where all of the women are walking their pet pigs. Just a little visual for you.
You were not meant to be
a lump on a log
or a frog in a bog,
catching whatever fly might come your way.
Eventually you will starve
because you've eaten the flies.
You've done your selfish part,
and now you must try to make up for that sadly lost time.
Swine, flies, humans. Basically the same thing.
If you've seen the movie, Casanova, you would remember the iconic scene where all of the women are walking their pet pigs. Just a little visual for you.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Moratorium: line time
Your foot is tapping, fingers drumming, and you are silently planning the deaths of every person standing within a 3 mile radius of your frustratingly pounding heart.
Yes, you've been there.
You accidentally left your book at your house, your backup book in the car, and your emergency book, well, you had just gifted it to someone who looked like they could use a read or 500. You are succumbed, yet again, to the grotesque form of free time and are captive to its unproductivity.
Curses. You curse yourself for being so negligent and careless about not fully anticipating any potential "free time" that you must now pass.
What do you do?
Step 1. Make friends. Not the small talk stranger friends. Genuine kindred spirit boosom friends. If there are none and the unfortunates around you have no substance with which one could explore, then stop right there my friends. Sometimes there is blantly no hope for mutual time sharing, but dont let that deter your productivity making ambitions.
Your friend making must be strategic because like my own mindset, my business is my own, and nobody needs to know. You have to find someone's weak spot, their vulnerable propensity where they will cave and gladly start babbling.
People like to talk, especially about themselves.
Maybe you were the only person they talked to all day. Be their listening ear. Not everyone opens up right away, but they are more willing than you know because everyone wants to be acknowledged and know that their words are important.
Ask pointed questions, the kind where the strangers might have been uncomfortable to answer if you were their boosom friend originally, but since you are not, feel free to ask the deepest questions imaginable.
A stranger will gladly share their deepest secrets with another stranger because what have they to lose with you?
What will you do with the information they provide? Bask in the winter light knowing that you have just won someone's confidence, and you didn't even have to try to build a friendship that would have taken years to build to win that special confidence.
Good for you, stranger.
Information is easy. All you have to do is just ask.
Make someone's day and listen. You will end up being pleasantly surprised with genuine intrigue.
Yes, you've been there.
You accidentally left your book at your house, your backup book in the car, and your emergency book, well, you had just gifted it to someone who looked like they could use a read or 500. You are succumbed, yet again, to the grotesque form of free time and are captive to its unproductivity.
Curses. You curse yourself for being so negligent and careless about not fully anticipating any potential "free time" that you must now pass.
What do you do?
Step 1. Make friends. Not the small talk stranger friends. Genuine kindred spirit boosom friends. If there are none and the unfortunates around you have no substance with which one could explore, then stop right there my friends. Sometimes there is blantly no hope for mutual time sharing, but dont let that deter your productivity making ambitions.
Your friend making must be strategic because like my own mindset, my business is my own, and nobody needs to know. You have to find someone's weak spot, their vulnerable propensity where they will cave and gladly start babbling.
People like to talk, especially about themselves.
Maybe you were the only person they talked to all day. Be their listening ear. Not everyone opens up right away, but they are more willing than you know because everyone wants to be acknowledged and know that their words are important.
Ask pointed questions, the kind where the strangers might have been uncomfortable to answer if you were their boosom friend originally, but since you are not, feel free to ask the deepest questions imaginable.
A stranger will gladly share their deepest secrets with another stranger because what have they to lose with you?
What will you do with the information they provide? Bask in the winter light knowing that you have just won someone's confidence, and you didn't even have to try to build a friendship that would have taken years to build to win that special confidence.
Good for you, stranger.
Information is easy. All you have to do is just ask.
Make someone's day and listen. You will end up being pleasantly surprised with genuine intrigue.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Moratorium: Selecting Teaspoons
I collect teaspoons. Going on vacation and need to get me a souvenir? Teaspoon. Feel like giving me a miniature gift? Teaspoon.
Reluctantly, I have decided that it would be for the best if I did not include my precious teaspoons in my packing list for college. I am thinking of practicality and thievery here.
1. You can't just have one teaspoon. Heavens! That would almost disregard the entire concept of the teaspoon if there is only one.
2. Deciding which few of the treasured cheap collector spoons is such a difficult and dreadful task.
3. I fear for my teaspoons' safety, being in a college environment. You never know who's on the prowl to steal some miniature spoons, such sacred utensils they are.
Gotta watch out for those teaspoon thiefs and protect alllll my spoons (in an old man's country accent)!
Reluctantly, I have decided that it would be for the best if I did not include my precious teaspoons in my packing list for college. I am thinking of practicality and thievery here.
1. You can't just have one teaspoon. Heavens! That would almost disregard the entire concept of the teaspoon if there is only one.
2. Deciding which few of the treasured cheap collector spoons is such a difficult and dreadful task.
3. I fear for my teaspoons' safety, being in a college environment. You never know who's on the prowl to steal some miniature spoons, such sacred utensils they are.
Gotta watch out for those teaspoon thiefs and protect alllll my spoons (in an old man's country accent)!
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Moratorium: Agatha, please
Dearest Agatha C.
Dame
Mary Westmacott
Angel of clever and creepy,
Thank you.
And which author would you like to investigate with during this dark and gloomy night?
I'll have a little Agatha, please.
Dame
Mary Westmacott
Angel of clever and creepy,
Thank you.
And which author would you like to investigate with during this dark and gloomy night?
I'll have a little Agatha, please.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Moratorium: That's sooo pinterest-E
A phrase I often find myself exclaiming about anything that is either old, broken but painted, or a hammy down with some modifications.
THAT'S SOOO PINTEREST-E
Any:
color of nail polish
skirt
White shorts
recipe containing avocados or quinoa
stack of books
table center pieces
lace superglued to anything
"hey, have you seen that one meme where it's like...!"
And don't forget
OMG, I love your hair... it's sooo pinterest-E!
THAT'S SOOO PINTEREST-E
Any:
color of nail polish
skirt
White shorts
recipe containing avocados or quinoa
stack of books
table center pieces
lace superglued to anything
"hey, have you seen that one meme where it's like...!"
- Basically anything that is economical has now become the latest fad.
- Baking is now suddenly a way to impress all of your friends. Congratulations, you can read a healthy recipe.
- Oh, you painted that canvas. Michelangelo would have been proud.
- You cut your jeans to make shorts. Genius.
- You wear stripes AND polka dots AT THE SAME TIME. Mixing patterns never could have been a better idea.
And don't forget
OMG, I love your hair... it's sooo pinterest-E!
Moratorium: Vegemite
"Oh, Vegemite is that really gross brown stuff, right?!" - the most common response I get
or
"I hear it's really disgusting!"
or better yet
"I tried it once and almost threw up. It wasn't sweet at all."
Let me level with you.
1. Put the rumors aside and form your own opinion.
2. Eat an entire sandwich or piece of toast - not just a little lick.
3. Participate in an incredible Aussie morning ritual.
I grew up eating Vegemite, so of course I'm a little partial, but I wish people would at least give it a go.
It was banned from being sold in the U.S. for awhile, but thankfully the protests against the Kraft labeling provisions changed that.
Expensive it may be, but my happiness is definitely worth the $8.99.
Running low on Vitamin B or Folate?
Hit up your local World Market store or order it online here.
Vegemite is not to be mistaken for Marmite.
or
"I hear it's really disgusting!"
or better yet
"I tried it once and almost threw up. It wasn't sweet at all."
Let me level with you.
1. Put the rumors aside and form your own opinion.
2. Eat an entire sandwich or piece of toast - not just a little lick.
3. Participate in an incredible Aussie morning ritual.
I grew up eating Vegemite, so of course I'm a little partial, but I wish people would at least give it a go.
It was banned from being sold in the U.S. for awhile, but thankfully the protests against the Kraft labeling provisions changed that.
Expensive it may be, but my happiness is definitely worth the $8.99.
Running low on Vitamin B or Folate?
Hit up your local World Market store or order it online here.
Vegemite is not to be mistaken for Marmite.
Moratorium: The Burden
It is a burden, really. It is too heavy for me.
1 Corinthians.
2: 14 "The man without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually discerned."
3:9 "We are God's fellow workers."
3:16 "We are God's temple."
So
"It is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful."
"My conscience is clear, but that does not make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me." 4:2-4
Well then, to make you listen,
"Shall I come to you with a whip, or in love and with a gentle spirit?" 4:20
1 Timothy
Make no mistake,
"Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners - of whom I am the worst." 1:15
Why is it so difficult for this to be done?
"The head of every man is Christ, and the head of the woman is man, and the head of Christ is God." 1 Corinthians 11:3
"woman is not independent of man, nor is man independent of woman" 11:11 ..... you shouldn't be independent of each other. Why do you wish to be thus separated?
Headstrong, dear one
"Stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not vain." 15:58
I am torn.
"Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men?" Galatians 1:10
Take note, spirit.
2 Timothy
"For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self discipline."
Gumption, Katie. Gumption.
"So do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord... by the power of God, who has saved us and called us to a holy life - not because of anything we have done, but because of his own purpose and grace." 1:8
Please, join me in this
"Flee the evil desires of youth, and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, along with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart."
It is difficult to work in the fields
"People will be lovers of themselves...." 3:2
While simultaneously
"Have nothing to do with them." 3:5
It must be done
"Preach the Word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage - with great patience and careful instruction." 4:2
This is my dilemma.
"If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over. Bit if he will not listen, take one or two others along, so that every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church,..." Matthew 18:15
Again and again. The person has to decide to change himself. It is his CHOICE.
Unfortunately.
"... treat him as you would a pagan or a tax collector." v.17
Difficult it may be, I will be your Hosea.
The Lord provides.
"Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; do not fret when men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes." Psalm 37:7
And I hand it to the Lord.
"Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4
If the Lord brings us to it, he will bring us through it.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Moratorium: My List
I had a list. It was a very nice list. It was the kind of list that keeps my world in progression of completing tasks, some tasks weighing more in importance, but a task is a task nonetheless.
I lost my list. I lost my very nice list. It was the kind of loss that rudely interrupted my world of a natural progression of duties and responsibilities, some duties more pressing than others, but nonetheless, a duty is a part of the inevitable and must be done.
Lost, that is what I am. Lost. I have no guidance, and I can no longer prioritize my duties.
The irony in this unfortunate situation of my momentum's demise is that upon completing one of the duties on my list, I took out the trash and threw away my list. It was not a ploy to discard the inevitable. When I wrote "Clean and Organize Life" on my list, I didn't so much intend to throw away my very important scrap paper list while I was at it.
Perhaps the gods of Lists are telling me to clean up my list.
So here I am, listless because I am list-less.
I lost my list. I lost my very nice list. It was the kind of loss that rudely interrupted my world of a natural progression of duties and responsibilities, some duties more pressing than others, but nonetheless, a duty is a part of the inevitable and must be done.
Lost, that is what I am. Lost. I have no guidance, and I can no longer prioritize my duties.
The irony in this unfortunate situation of my momentum's demise is that upon completing one of the duties on my list, I took out the trash and threw away my list. It was not a ploy to discard the inevitable. When I wrote "Clean and Organize Life" on my list, I didn't so much intend to throw away my very important scrap paper list while I was at it.
Perhaps the gods of Lists are telling me to clean up my list.
So here I am, listless because I am list-less.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Moratorium: Dear Humanity, build.
My faith in humanity often succumbs to the vicious cycle of first being disappointingly destroyed and then being respectfully rebuilt. Destroy, Rebuild, and Repeat, it seems.
It is not rebuilt by those who destroyed it in the first place; rather, a more pleasant character reveals themselves at the seemingly opportune time of despair to rebuild what someone else has torn down, a certain code of humanity that has been violated.
I can only hope that more people would leave their destroying propensities and cleave to what is right, what so dearly deserves to be sought after as a lifestyle of pleasant surprises. You must adhere to the code: character, integrity, ambition, consistency, a daily thirst for the waters of replenishing knowledge and perspective, reciprocated intrigue, a moral conscience, conscientious behavior, imagination with a flair of skepticism, positivism with a hint of cynicism, honesty with a dash of grace (blunt truth of reality included), quick wit and clever humor (obscene welcomed in moderation) - just to name a few.
When the aforementioned are lost, so is my hope in humanity. I thank those who CHOOSE to exercise these beautiful qualities of humanity. You give humanity a peace of mind, a peace in my mind.
Fit this into the mix, and you might understand:
It is not rebuilt by those who destroyed it in the first place; rather, a more pleasant character reveals themselves at the seemingly opportune time of despair to rebuild what someone else has torn down, a certain code of humanity that has been violated.
I can only hope that more people would leave their destroying propensities and cleave to what is right, what so dearly deserves to be sought after as a lifestyle of pleasant surprises. You must adhere to the code: character, integrity, ambition, consistency, a daily thirst for the waters of replenishing knowledge and perspective, reciprocated intrigue, a moral conscience, conscientious behavior, imagination with a flair of skepticism, positivism with a hint of cynicism, honesty with a dash of grace (blunt truth of reality included), quick wit and clever humor (obscene welcomed in moderation) - just to name a few.
When the aforementioned are lost, so is my hope in humanity. I thank those who CHOOSE to exercise these beautiful qualities of humanity. You give humanity a peace of mind, a peace in my mind.
Fit this into the mix, and you might understand:
"Now here we are, making copies in steel and concrete of copies in plaster of copies in marble of copies in wood. Why?"
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Moratorium: no bird's bane
what created this void?
I'd like to generalize by saying that everyone has had this moment in their lives, one time or another.
That being said, you know what I am talking about.
Life comes to a standstill. You've lost all motivation to do ANYTHING, or rather perhaps just confusion in the end result. Coming from a generally motivated person, I even surprised myself as I sit here, doing nothing, pondering nothing.
My stack of books to read rises higher every day. My crafting supplies of crafts to do pile up. I wear the same outfit every day. I eat cucumbers, avocados, and grapes, and I take 12-14 vitamins. [someone buy me a healthy hamburger or large burrito or an indian buffet, please, I'm starving. stupid healthy food, never quite fills you up. supplements just don't seem to cut it.] I work 10 hours a day, and after the day I worked 17 hours, I decided that I'd take a day, a day to do what? I did nothing because I felt that if I was taking the time for a break that I should actually take the break.
"Give a busy person a job, and they'll get it done." - one of my mantras.
I'm not busy "breaking;" therefore, I cannot get anything done.
Upon my break, I felt restless because I wasn't doing a thing. Relaxing vacations are so difficult because it is hard to settle down, to go from running 100 miles a minute to doing absolutely nothing.
I know that when I am back to being busy I will regret not taking full advantage of the break, and I will wish for the break's return.
Why must my mind not be put at ease? Why must I anticipate the commotion during my quiet peace.
Why am I driven to insanity not taking pleasure of what I take pleasure in when I do when have absolutely no time at all.
I can multitask, but I cannot simply "task."
Therefore, my uplifting jargon of "nothings" satisfies its own bane of existence, because I take great satisfaction in being busy. Because this "void of busy" has been created, I cannot fill it with what I wish to, because I do not wish to take pleasure in leisure.
Being leisure is like wasting my time. I wish to finish my hours of leisure not being leisure, I want to get things done.
So why then, can I not get anything done?
I need more to fill this void. I need more tasks. I need more motivation. I need to stop going over this in a very round-about way completely contradicting myself and over-generalizing.
I have a lot that I wish to get done. I do not wish to be wasteful. I wish to wake up and jump start my day. The only way I can is if I rise before the birds. That way, I can take pleasurable leisure in listening to them beckon the faint daylight of the dawn. After I have taken a little dose of leisure, first thing, then I will be able to trot along at full speed.
I just need a little momentum to get me going again.
I'd like to generalize by saying that everyone has had this moment in their lives, one time or another.
That being said, you know what I am talking about.
Life comes to a standstill. You've lost all motivation to do ANYTHING, or rather perhaps just confusion in the end result. Coming from a generally motivated person, I even surprised myself as I sit here, doing nothing, pondering nothing.
My stack of books to read rises higher every day. My crafting supplies of crafts to do pile up. I wear the same outfit every day. I eat cucumbers, avocados, and grapes, and I take 12-14 vitamins. [someone buy me a healthy hamburger or large burrito or an indian buffet, please, I'm starving. stupid healthy food, never quite fills you up. supplements just don't seem to cut it.] I work 10 hours a day, and after the day I worked 17 hours, I decided that I'd take a day, a day to do what? I did nothing because I felt that if I was taking the time for a break that I should actually take the break.
"Give a busy person a job, and they'll get it done." - one of my mantras.
I'm not busy "breaking;" therefore, I cannot get anything done.
Upon my break, I felt restless because I wasn't doing a thing. Relaxing vacations are so difficult because it is hard to settle down, to go from running 100 miles a minute to doing absolutely nothing.
I know that when I am back to being busy I will regret not taking full advantage of the break, and I will wish for the break's return.
Why must my mind not be put at ease? Why must I anticipate the commotion during my quiet peace.
Why am I driven to insanity not taking pleasure of what I take pleasure in when I do when have absolutely no time at all.
I can multitask, but I cannot simply "task."
Therefore, my uplifting jargon of "nothings" satisfies its own bane of existence, because I take great satisfaction in being busy. Because this "void of busy" has been created, I cannot fill it with what I wish to, because I do not wish to take pleasure in leisure.
Being leisure is like wasting my time. I wish to finish my hours of leisure not being leisure, I want to get things done.
So why then, can I not get anything done?
I need more to fill this void. I need more tasks. I need more motivation. I need to stop going over this in a very round-about way completely contradicting myself and over-generalizing.
I have a lot that I wish to get done. I do not wish to be wasteful. I wish to wake up and jump start my day. The only way I can is if I rise before the birds. That way, I can take pleasurable leisure in listening to them beckon the faint daylight of the dawn. After I have taken a little dose of leisure, first thing, then I will be able to trot along at full speed.
I just need a little momentum to get me going again.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Moratorium: Two Decades
Upon everyone's twentieth birthday, I offer my obligatory congratulations and take great pleasure in sending forth an ominous sentiment of a simple "Two Decades" reminder.
Upon my very own twentieth birthday, I realized that it would not be two decades at all. It would, in fact, be the close of my second and beginning of my third.
Please make no mistake in assuming that I had not completely realized this; rather, it was my own definition's lack of clarity that calls for this explanation. I intend for my remark to be about the closing.
I hastily searched for a little "something something" for this grand closing of the decades, and lo and behold, a perfectly ominous poem rose from the ashes. It perfectly construes the ominousness of which this looming notion derives.
What have you done in your Decennali Segundo (two decades)? Machiavelli might be all for employing ill-will in order to gain power, where I am not; however, he does make quite an argument with valid points. I suppose the question really boils down to whether or not you can really achieve power without. If you think that you do, then how sad you must be! Must you take pride in another's defeat!
Set forth into your third with gracious gumption!
Upon my very own twentieth birthday, I realized that it would not be two decades at all. It would, in fact, be the close of my second and beginning of my third.
Please make no mistake in assuming that I had not completely realized this; rather, it was my own definition's lack of clarity that calls for this explanation. I intend for my remark to be about the closing.
I hastily searched for a little "something something" for this grand closing of the decades, and lo and behold, a perfectly ominous poem rose from the ashes. It perfectly construes the ominousness of which this looming notion derives.
What have you done in your Decennali Segundo (two decades)? Machiavelli might be all for employing ill-will in order to gain power, where I am not; however, he does make quite an argument with valid points. I suppose the question really boils down to whether or not you can really achieve power without. If you think that you do, then how sad you must be! Must you take pride in another's defeat!
Set forth into your third with gracious gumption!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)