Wednesday, December 29

Christmas Gift

One of the best gifts I received this Christmas (ok, right after the oh-so-amazingly-soft sherpa robe from my mom) is the book "If" by Amy Carmichael.

Carmichael ministered to Irish Mill workers, the Japanese, and then in 1895 she began her ministry to the children of India until her death in 1951.

"If" is a collection of thoughts on True Love. I'm reading a few each night.

Last night:

If I can enjoy a joke at the expense of
another;
If I can in any way slight another in
conversation,
or even in thought,
then I know nothing of Calvary Love.

~and~

If in dealing with one who does not
respond,
I weary of the strain, and slip
from under the burden
then I know nothing of Calvary Love.


How true, personally convicting, and compelling!

Trying not to Vomit, Vol. 2

This isn't nearly as gross, but this place is the bearing of my soul, and I promised a friend of mine that I would blog something of importance and humor to her.

iTones, I spilled milk in my car. AGAIN.


Edited to Add:

Ha! I ran down on the local industrial cleaner place and grabbed the stuff that two people have told me works.
My car now smells like orchard apple. (yea!) We'll see about tomorrow.

Trying not to vomit

Everyone usually says that they want a dog or cat or something. If they're a dog person, they have visions of a sweet dog meeting them at the door, a softly wagging tail greeting them. I think it's our desire to be missed ("oh, aren't I important!")

I'm presently housesitting the three dogs. And NOBODY mentions dogs' desire to kill sweet, innocent animals, drag them inside and seriously cause the gag reflex to go crazy as you STARE AT THE RIPPED OFF BIRD LEG on the blanket that the Boston was sitting on just a short time ago.

Thanks to my sister's boyfriend for getting rid of the evidence of Violence Against Birds.

I have visions of the owners coming back to a "Godfather"-like moment in their bedroom, but I don't dare look THAT hard for the rest of the poor feathered friend.


eugghhhh!

Tuesday, December 28

Prayers and support

If you're interested in the War in Iraq, and need a bit of an inside view, read this:

A Must Read Email From an American Soldier"

Captain Dan and Brian (blog owner) are childhood friends of mine.

Wednesday, December 22

I wonder as I wander...

Every now and again, I wonder if anyone other than my one friend who IMs me daily reads this blog.

I get the sudden urge to post all of the gifts I'm giving this year here, and see if anyone reads it, and ruins their christmas.

Obviously, I'm not as mean as Target.

Monday, December 20

Grinch Green

Dear Target Corp,
I was surprised when I heard that you weren't allowing Salvation Army bell ringers outside our local Target store. I was sure I had heard them this year, but then remembered that, no, that was in front of Walmart. And I just want you to know that I'm going to make a concerted effort to patronize that store instead of yours. While I may not be able to get around buying certain items at Target, I pledge to go to Walmart for this year as much as possible.

I hope you reconsider your extremely bad judgment next year. In such a society as ours, I’m sure your very smart and expensive lawyers can find a way to legally allow the Salvation Army to solicit and not bind you to allowing everyone and everything solicit in the future. I’ll trust that you’ll pony up the 9 million you’re denying the Salvation Army this year to pay for your lawyers to do this work.

I’m thoroughly disappointed in you, and also, I’m 26. I have a long life ahead of me, and a very good memory.

Merry Christmas, or something like that. Has the Marketing agency you’ve retained done any tests with changing your official color from “Target Red” to “Grinch Green”?

Sincerely,

Friday, December 17

unwittingly losing weight

And the reason that you “lose weight with Grape Nuts” is because they use superglue to seal the box AND (just for good measure) the bag inside.

Yet, even the 3M-engineered glue that Post uses is no match for a steak knife in the hands of a famished woman. (Don’t ask why I have a steak knife at my desk).

Thursday, December 16

HAPPY BIRTHDAY iTONES!

Hey, a new nickname for another year! Happy Birthday, Friend!

Bouts of Insanity

Today is a My Brain Ain’t A-Workin’ Day. It doesn’t really help that a co-worker said good morning, and in response to my poorly hidden “I don’t really want to talk because I just used up my 4 nice words to the receptionist Good Morning,” replied, “I won’t say good morning to you any more because I know you’re not a morning person. Bwhahahah!”

GRRR. Nice guilt trip. Am I going to be here long enough that I’ll need to exchange my cash to Guilt Currency? That’s what I thought.

So, I grudgingly make small talk (IT HURTS MY HEAD) so coworkers don’t think I’m a complete _____ (fill it in with whatever you’d like) and I go downstairs to find a small miracle: New Creamer to feed my coffee addiction! Yea! (It has been said to me that, for all the coffee I drink, I certainly don’t like the taste of it. No, I don’t. I like the creamer and the caffeine kick I get).

Ah, but the coffee gods are not as generous as they have been in the past. While the bottle's title makes one think of Christmas and everything good that swirls around that most sweet of childhood excitement,

GINGERBREAD CREAMER IS NOT A GOOD IDEA.

Thanks Coffeemate, for killing any delight I might have experienced during the best cup of coffee of the day.

Igh. The aftertaste alone may cause bouts of insanity. Which will likely result in small talk.

The Chicken or the Egg?

When you arrange for a DD to and from a Christmas Party, are you asked frequently if you have a ride home because a) your car is conspicuously missing from the parking lot, or b) because you drink as much as you like, talk excitedly, hug a lot of people, and not execute the “I’m ok to drive” sham, because It Don’t Matter?

That’s what I thought, too.

Saturday, December 11

It's harder than you think

typing in a blog entry with a both a laptop and an 8 pound dog on your "lap."


Oh, you noticed?

yep. Changed the template colors, and the template. I'm not a bit fan of it, but I'm still trying to remember my one college HTML course. (bwahahhah!) My brother is coming home over Christmas, so I'll make him help me.

Also, I'll work on getting my sidebar back to what it was before.

Thursday, December 9

From 4 days ago

Ains: Is it too early to have the case of the Mondays?
Friend (via IM) : It's never too early. The minute your feet hit the bedroom floor you have the right to a case of the Mondays.
Mom: Absolutely. 12:01 Sunday night is legitimate.

Wednesday, December 8

It's all Matt Damon's fault

So tired that you don’t dare close your eyes while blow drying your hair because when you did that just a second ago you swayed because your body was so desperately close to shutting down and going to sleep on cold linoleum.

And it’s all Matt Damon’s fault for being a good interviewee. And also his mom’s fault for giving him quality genes.

Tuesday, December 7

oh, mercy. {eyeroll}

If I eat my high fat, high protein trail mix for lunch, I can go home at 3:30. Dare I???

Of course, I’ll be abso-LUTE-ly punch drunk from staring at a computer screen for eight SOLID hours, but I might be able to run for 20 minutes and shower before making dinner.

{mortified pause}

Oh my gosh.
{sigh} I just turned into that woman.

Read it. You'll buy it, I'm sure. I am.

I would be remiss in not linking to the second part of Banty Rooster's review: U2's How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb.



Monday, December 6

Its not for pansies anymore

Otherwise known as Bridget Jonesing:

I got Shape magazine yesterday. It was great. What wasn't so great was my attempt at the "Revolving Crescent." (It's a yoga move.) it includes lunging and twisting your upper body while holding your hands and arms in a prayer-like stance. Sounds easy, or so I thought.

It. Kicked. My. Arse.

I did it ONE time. I was supposed to do it three more times, before going to the next of FOUR moves, each of which I was supposed to do 4 times. If I REALLY wanted my butt kicked, I could also add a "Sun Salutation," inbetween EACH of the 4 moves, which itself has 11 moves. Eleven. I did one. My quads still hurt.

Yup. Yoga: 1. Ainsley: 0

This interesting? no.

I can't seem to be humorous or interesting AT. ALL. today. I've tried. I've got fodder. I ran into my ex yesterday. I should be able to write something in a humorous vein. Can I? no. As proven by the last eight sentances.

So I don't expect you to care about these blogs. I'm not sure I care about today's blogs!


Thursday, December 2

Ode to Ken. Or Limerick. Whatever you like.

Departed is Jeopardy’s Ken
Shall we see him ever again?
A chick done him in
With no second win,
And away ran Alex’s Nielsen.

Tuesday, November 30

The FACE of the NFL?

Ugh. Sorry. I lived in Minneapolis/ St. Paul for almost 7 years. The sworn enemies of the Vikings are, of course, Brett Fahv-rah and the Packers. I'm a Viking Fan because of living there, and also dealing with obnoxious, displaced Packer fans.

And while Favre is admirable (you can't knock 12 seasons, no matter how much you reallyreallyreally want to), the commentators tonight are drooooollliiiinggg. ("Oh Brett Favre! It's Brett Favre! He hurt his Thumb! It's the biggest news of the 2003 season!")

Hopefully my use of italics expresses my utter disgust with the commentators.

You see, they just referred to Mr. Favre as "The Face of the NFL."

Could they just propose and get. it. over. with??! What would really be interesting is to count how many times the ABC commentators mention Favre during games he's not playing in. My guess would be "far more often than anyone could possibly care about."

Monday, November 29

Work

Today was one of the best days at work. At least, what I mean is, I had 5 full days away. And it took about that long for me to become rejuvenated about my job. To think about it as a refuge – a place to go to and “get things done.” Lately it’s been overwhelming, and so it’s nice to be in the middle of the holiday season, where it slows down a lot for me.

Family

We watched the worst movie. Worst in the “We don’t want to admit it was that bad to the guys sitting down here with us, but its so bad that the only redeeming value is the cute guy. Which is obviously why they cast him” way.

It was called “Boyfriend for Christmas” on the Hallmark Channel. The only truly funny moment associated with this movie came 3 days later, when my brother and I were talking about what he ought to do with his life. My advice was that he should seriously consider pursuing acting, with his life goal to act on the Hallmark channel.

His response (via IM): “hahha. Yeah. Right.”

Music

U2's "How to dismantle an atomic bomb"

This review is one of the best I’ve read, ever. A Masterful job of conveying what is going on in the music, as well as spiritual application.

Monday, November 22

Live in Undivided Devotion to the Lord

Our pastor didn’t preach on Sunday; we had a guest. But the week prior, He spoke on being wholly devoted to the Lord. Paul, at first blush, sounds anti-marriage, anti-sex, anti-woman. At least, read through our present day eyes.

But, as Alfred pointed out, Paul was basically giving his opinion from his perspective. The truth within his opinion is that singles have a much less difficult time doing what they want, being independent and self-sufficient. A married woman has many more things that divert her attention than a single woman.

Our world doesn’t preach Paul’s opinion. Generally, It preaches that without a “partner*” you are either pursuing your career, have something seriously wrong with you, gay, or at the very least you’re doing a good job of hiding your unhappiness. And, the world is LOUD. Sometimes deafeningly so. And its not always unbelievers that preach the “World’s” opinion.

I cried for most of the end of Alfred’s sermon – he touched a nerve. I’ve wanted to be married to “Mr. Right” for a long time (see my joking list of “I hope he’s like this” that was started here) – I, along with the confidence of my friends, thought I would be the first one married out of just about everyone.

Interestingly, I’m one of the last. I can think of one college friend who isn’t married or concretely moving toward that place.

The non-coincidence of all of this is that, prior to Sunday, I had recently re-picked up a book (the title has started to bug me, actually). The title not withstanding, it is the single most encouraging book I own for this point in my life, and likely the best book I’ve read within its genre and length.

It reminds me repeatedly that it is not a mistake, the place that I am at right now. If I believe what I teach my Sunday school kids (God is all knowing, and controls all), I must preach, along with Paul, that the place I’m at is precisely where God wants me.

And the minute that I’ll need marriage to bring me to a higher place of sanctification (to be like Jesus), God will not hesitate.

This is what I trust, and cling to.

* this is the latest term that wigs me out. Spouse or Husband or Wife is far more concrete, which is exactly why those terms are on the way out.

Best Part of...

Dogs rock. I don't own any, but I live with 3. They're the funniest dogs - mostly because they are all significantly not similar. The lab is black and HUGE - he just weighed in last week at 92 (NINETY! TWO!) pounds - and for those who are interested in my Bridget Jonesing, that's only 28 pounds lighter than me.
The other two are much smaller - one is 25 pounds, or thereabouts, and the other, 8 pounds. That One, the eight pounder, loves me. She's a little min pin, and as I was once a person who called dogs under 50 pounds "kick dogs," the fact that I enjoy her so thoroughly is a feat of gargantuan proportions.

The other is a Boston. A licky Boston. It is scientifically impossible to have a run-in with this dog without her DNA being in at least 7 places on your body, beyond the 4,583 places she tried to lick you and failed because you RAN. THE. OTHER. WAY.

The best part of my nights are returning to my basement dwelling from wherever I was during the day. 90% of the time, I come home far after my "landlords" have gone to bed, and the dogs sleep in their room. It's gotten cold recently, and the two mile trek from where I usually am to where my bed currently resides has become longer. Or maybe not long enough, cause my little ricer's heater doesn't warm up until the last two blocks.

But each night, when I come home, the Huge Lab is there, at the garage door, greeting me with those sweet sad eyes, making sure I'm ok. And though I'm not family, he looks as if to say, "I knew you were gone, and all is right, now that you're here."

Man and Basement-dweller's best, loyal friend.


Sunday, November 21

who needs drugs?

just take your contacts out and put your much. stronger. glasses on.

Walking up the stairs sideways? yup, just put my glasses on.

Friday, November 19

TV

We just figured out how to hook it up so both the computer and the TV have a cable signal going to each. The problem? the computer's sound has a two-second delay, causing you to think the Computer is trying to annoy the TV by doing that childish-I'll-repeat-everything-you-say thing. Of course, we were watching the not so scary I Know What You Did Last Summer, so you might imagine why Mom and I were giggling at Jennifer "I paid big bucks for my" Love Hewitt.


In other news: Never underestimate the fun of the Spanish channel.

Lest you doubt it, Yahoo Launch freaking Rocks!

In a moment of mystical star alignment, Launch played both “Dancing Queen” and “I Will Survive” within 5 minutes of each other. My life flashed before my eyes – well, at least my 23rd year.
Anthems, both, of the Onion and those girls that frequented it for it’s easily manipulated DJs, cheap (often free) drinks and fabulously attractive bouncers!

If they start into Violent Femmes, I’ll have no other choice but to buy ticket to the Cities.

Simplify

The proverbs of Solomon son of David, king of Israel:

PR 1:2 for attaining wisdom and discipline; for understanding words of insight;

PR 1:3 for acquiring a disciplined and prudent life, doing what is right and just and fair;

PR 1:4 for giving prudence to the simple, knowledge and discretion to the young.


Hmm. Simplify! This has been a “thing” for me for the last couple of months. I realize that I got myself tangled into debt. My life is a bunch simpler now, but only by God’s Grace. Hopefully I’ll learn those life lessons well and thoroughly.


These are my simplify choices:
· At some point during the day (preferably early morning), go outside to a place where there are the sounds of nature. For five minutes focus on the sounds and do some deep breathing. It will give you a boost of extra energy and clarity to carry you through your day.

· Make lunch for yourself at least three days a week instead of buying something expensive.

· Make your bed before you leave the house. If you work at home, make your bed as soon as you get up in the morning.


You-all can ask me how I’m doing. Self-accountability is far harder than anyone tells themselves.
Day 1 of 21.

The Beautiful and Strange

(See poem-in-side-bar-for-which-this-unread-blog-is-named)

It bothered me that such a beautiful poem would end in such a strange way, so clearly bringing to mind the “Left Behind” books (Or as a one speaker called them, “The Hardy Boys take on the End Times!” Apologies to Mar and Britt – I know you both like that series!) What exactly does Armageddon have to do with expressing one’s self?


So, I rummaged through my dusty books, pulled out my college poetry class textbook, poured myself a cuppa joe, and sat in front of the fire for a long, nice, comfortable read.


OK, I went to Dictionary.com. The fluorescent lighting is killing my eyes, and I’m quite cold, actually. I keep trying to warm up by getting more coffee. The other version sounds a lot better.


So, the key understanding this poem? Ha! That language changes through the ages.

Dread: adj. Inspiring awe
Apocalypse: n. 3. A prophetic disclosure; a revelation.


Peeves, of the pet kind

My throat hurts. Whenever this happens, I freak out and wonder why I don’t keep my Vitamin C (with added zinc!!) with me as often as I do Ibuprofen. (“ah, ee-bee-pro-faeh-no. Uh, ya know, Aspirin?” ~ Juan Carlos Fererro). My mother will tell you I keep them both with me with the same regularity. That is, never.

AGGHHHHHH GRRRRRR!

I wore a dirty shirt to work today. On the sleeve cuff – some mysterious tomato based sauce.

This probably wouldn’t be a big deal to anyone else, but those who know me well will tell you – the most difficult part of the day is figuring out what I’m going to wear in the morning. I HATE it. With the fire of a thousand Novas.

To have a drop of my sister’s abilities in this area would revolutionize my life.

Work

You gotta love coming into the office in the morning, and realizing you can delete all of the new messages in your email inbox. Which brings the number down to a miniscule 320!
Calvin and Hobbes? 29. Boss folder? 171. Emails from friends/family? 217.


Loser moment of the day–-Thinking: “Hmmm. I wonder if I can get those nametags printed by 9? Ooh! Let’s try!”

Peeves, of the Pet kind

I would put a moratorium on talking in the morning. And by “morning” I mean, “if my brother were to be asleep at this point in time on a Saturday, it’s defined as ‘morning.’ So Stop. the talking!” Anytime the inhabitants of Earth would like to adhere to my imperial and obsessive desire that would be Just. Fine.

Thursday, November 18

Men

I want to marry a Scottish, Reformed, Military man. Added to that, the voice of Bono.


And yes, I'm fully aware that the laws of nature would dictate that he wouldn't look like Rob Lowe. I mean, really. Who then could possibly resist?


{cough.}

TV

Oh. My. Gosh.

The local news just did a piece on Kmart buying Sears. I know it was about that because of the internet. Also, my TV is on mute.
In all of their incredible insight, they chose a clip of a 20 something girl showing a lady of 40 or so the single. largest. bra. I've ever seen. Entire continents have been smaller.

As If we didn't already have generalizations seared into our heads...

Wednesday, November 17

TV

CJ Craig is the new Chief of staff. The West Wing has so jumped the shark.

It's obvious that I need to create a emoticon that shakes its head in disbelief and sorrow.

Edited To Say:
Also? The new little Media guru chick is a poor substitute for Ainsley Hayes, after whom she is obviously written. Only, instead of a smart, leggy Republican opposite Rob Lowe, they seem to think sparks might happen with Toby. Did I say jumped the shark? I meant, going down the crapper.

Bridget Jonesing

I have to think that the author of Bridget Jones simply blogged for a while before publishing her "diary"/novel extrordinaire.

Honestly, because once you start doing this, most of what you think about posting revolves around the current-dieting-bad-habits-and-calorie-intake-obsessive-commentary running continuously through your head. And also wondering if it's remotely possible to make that interesting.

Work

Seriously. Am I the ONLY one who does this kind of job? ALL I want is software to generate a list of weekly things to do based on assigned dates on my already established to-do lists for each of the events I run. Is this REALLY so hard, Bill Gates? Dare I ask too much?

More: Does anyone else think she looks nekkid?

And still more: I should just buy some wedding software and hijack the lists. "Print invitations" will now equal "Print out nametags!"

My Purpose (Blog related)

Ok, I know it’s boring, but did you have to call it cute?

Already I’ve had to edit it for content ("The voice in my head has always been my mother’s" – Lucy Kelson; Two Weeks Notice. Only this time it wasn’t in my head. It was sitting 10 feet from me). Once again, I fully understand that it is a boring weblog. Do you suppose we'll be able to survive the catastrophe that is this Blog? {Visions of The Day After Tomorrow danced in her head}

Work (from yesterday)

Cubicles:
Bad: Beige walls of boredom.
Good: Enabling the eating Del Taco without looking like the slop that you are. Slurp Slurp.

Walmart

Note to self: The self-check out lanes are only faster when Billy Jo Bob and Sally Sue aren't ahead of you.

My purpose

To clarify: This is not supposed to be a deep, thoughtful, intellectual blog. I'm really doing this because - well, the same reason anyone else blogs - they think what they have to say is interesting.

I fully expect that you, the only person reading this blog will find it boring.

However, if you want intellectual I highly recommend "
Captive Thought"- a blog by Brian Mattson.

Cause you'll be impressed


Actually? Test, test, test, test test. {tap, tap} One, two three? Am I on?
Posted by Hello

Friends

I officially miss Marsha. Trae called last night, and tradition dictates that once I talk to one, I feel the desire to call the other. We’re a Friendship triangle - I’ve got my Tracey fix, but need my MarMar fix!
Speaking of – MARSHA! Send me some envelopes!!

Tuesday, November 16

work

Today is a Slippers At Work day. Forget real shoes, or anything resembling professionalism. Slippers are on, and everyone ought to praise God - death (and the Grandpa look) is averted for many souls, for today anyway.

Monday, November 15

The Soul's Expression

With stammering lips and insufficient sound
I strive and struggle to deliver right
That music of my nature, day and night
With dream and thought and feeling interwound
And inly answering all the senses round
With octaves of a mystic depth and height
Which step out grandly to the infinite
From the dark edges of the sensual ground.


This song of soul I struggle to outbear
Through portals of the sense,
sublime and whole,
And utter all myself into the air:
But if I did it --as the thunder-roll
Breaks its own cloud, my flesh would perish there,
Before that dread apocalypse of soul.


Elizabeth Barrett Browning
With octaves of a mystic depth and height