Today's Best Spam Names

Revelations H. Bulldog
Periscopes U. Backache

ABCD and TFT

I'm taking a summer class
called Church and Community Leadership.
It focuses on Asset-Based Community Development
and Training for Transformation,
which are community organizing/development/building techniques.
The class is intense -- 9am-3pm everyday this week.
And that's it.
We have a paper due next week,
but we only have the one week of classes.
We are reading about one book a night,
and I am exhausted.

I'm getting a pedicure on Saturday.

Let It Be

Grades are in (mostly)
and I am pretty much a B student.
I'm cool with that.
I do pretty much B work.
Or if I do A work, I turn it in late.
(Seriously, I got a B in class where I turned in EVERY paper late.)

I am academically slightly above average.
That's not how smart I am.
That's how much I put into it.
Actually, I frequently put in below average effort
but I do it well.

I so do not stress about grades.
In college, we competed over who got an A on which assignment --
not outright competition, but we competed nonetheless.
And now, I am more cognizant of needing a balanced life.
And I get Bs.

Spam

I've been keeping track of the names on my spam mail.
Here are the best ones:

Mr. Yazzie
Expostulate E. Summerhouse
The Misogyny
Wigwam B. Telescope
Talc H. Quadruped
The Opposite
Cosmology M. Researcher
Refugio Leonard
Rollo Piper
Pelageya Gabler
Precious Winn
Reckons O. Hokusai
Methuselah Rivers
Rosy Shirk
Bean P. McEnroe
Spool M. Justified
Prosper Browner

The Paper That Won't Die

is about the intersections and conflicts of the women's movement and the abolition movement in the mid to late 1800s, especially the role of the church.

It is supposed to be 10-12 pages.
I'm up to almost 8.
I don't know if I have addressed (or even clearly articulated) my thesis yet, though.

Alas.
At least the power is back on.
Writing by maglite is no good.

Spring Banquet, aka Candler Prom

Spuggles and Petey













Roomates and the J who frequents our couch













Craig was really excited to see his friend Dave













Lane and me in pretty dresses
Austin, Sara, me, Rachel, Candace, Leslie -- looking fly

I just wanted to say

that it's 4:30am and I am up writing papers.

I just finished my 7 page exegesis paper.
I think it might suck.

I have my 2-3 page colloquy paper halfway done
at 3/4 of a page. =)

Tomorrow, I will have to write my sociology paper
which is to be 10-12 pages.
I have at least one page of it done.

I am tired.
I am awake.

Alas.

For the Rest of Your Life...

Okay, so we have this thing going. You can read about it on Dana's blog. Basically, my friends fought over what 5 albums they'd want to have for the rest of their lives. Like these would be the ONLY albums you could have forever. They (Dana, Russell, J, Sara, and John) came up with a collective list, which I think kind of sucks. Check out my lists, and then feel free to post yours in the comments.

Top 5:
Magazine (Jump Little Children)
Tuesday Night Music Club (Sheryl Crow)
Back Home Again (John Denver)
White Blood Cells (The White Stripes)
Rock Steady (No Doubt)

Greatest Hits Albums*:
One (The Beatles)
James Taylor: Greatest Hits (James Taylor)
Greatest Hits, Vol. 1 (The Eagles)
Sounds of Summer (Beach Boys)
Films About Ghosts (Counting Crows)

*This list goes against Russell's original premise that no greatest hits, live albums or compilation/various artist albums could be included.
But whatever. I like greatest hits. I'm old, and it's easier. Sue me.

Damn these procrastination tools... I have papers to write!

It's called "Procrastinate With Me" for a reason...

I wrote this at about 12:30pm today. It did not post. Here's another try.


Here's what I have done in the 4 hours I've been awake:

• Filled out my FAFSA
• Checked email repeatedly, all four accounts
• Scheduled a meeting and decided on a lunch menu
• Ordered books for my summer classes
• Called for appointments regarding my candidacy for ministry process
• Took a shower
• Located a book I had loaned out
• Started a load of laundry
• Ate a banana and drank a glass of milk
• Wrote this blog

*I have been quite productive in 4 hours.

**Note that none of these accomplishments involve cracking an actual book or writing any papers despite my aforementioned assignments that are due this week.

All Dressed Up, No Place To Go

Spring Banquet (aka Candler Prom) is on Friday.
I have been itching to go buy a dress.
All day, I have been trying to figure out when I will have time to go shop.
Alas, I have no time until Friday, the day of the event.

So, I was bemoaning this fact to Dana,
who was also supposed to be writing a paper,
and she suggested that we look at the dresses she has
since we were just standing around anyway.
Then, I remembered a little dress I wore to Ali's wedding rehearsal.
So, we started trying things on.
Then we "did" our hair -- more silly than cute...

We made John put on a jacket with his tshirt and workout pants,
and the result is this picture:

One Down... Three To Go!

Okay, folks, it's that time again --
the end of the semester, when everything is due.

I have finished one paper.
It was the easiest one;
it was already half done;
and it was due a week and a half ago.
It's a narrative for ConEd about my imaginary ministerial hero.

Her name's Amelia, and she is the minister of outreach at a mid-sized UM church. For her, outreach encompasses the church's programs that interact with the community (like a subsidized childcare program, and a job training culinary arts program the products of which go to meals on wheels, a local homeless shelter, and the Wednesday night supper), as well as visitation, missions, and supporting the rest of the staff. It's insanely hokey.

Now, I just have three to go.
1) Global Feminisms presentation on Tuesday night. (12-15 page paper due in May, so we're not stressing about it yet...)
2) NT exegesis paper 7-8 pages, due Thurs. 8am
3) Sociology of Rel. paper 10-12 pages, due Thurs. 1pm

Come on big money, no whammies!

Okay, I'm going to take a shower.

Resurrection

I appreciate Easter. This Lent was long, and I was glad for it to end. Perhaps that is a sign that I am in seminary, and we take liturgical seasons very seriously. Regardless, it was hard and sad and frustrating. Mingled in with the Lenten season, my New Orleans trip and the death of one of my favorite ministers sparked those emotions. I didn't feel a lot of hope while I was in New Orleans during Spring Break. I was overwhelmed and sad and frustrated and angry. I was tired. I got home and I was tired.

New Orleans was really difficult. The work on the house was like a taking the first half of a Salkehatchie (or ASP) week -- the tearing out -- and doing only that for a week. There was no rebuilding, and really what was left of the house after we tore out the moldy drywall was not necessarily rebuildable. Many of the remaining wall studs were termite damaged or moldy. The first work day, I encountered a man in the hardware store at the end of our street. We had gone to get some tools, and I said hello brightly and asked where we could find the Wonderbars. After pointing us in the right direction, the man said, "Where are ya'll from? You're too happy to be from here."

Lots of elements of the trip reminded me of Salkehatchie. We stayed in a church and worshipped and processed together as a group. I feel strong bonds with the people who shared the experience with me. We ate, laughed, prayed, worked and cried together.
The tour we took of the city is not something that I will soon forget, as much as I subconsiously tried to push it out of my mind. And it's also not something I can adequately verbalize yet. We did a presentation for Candler last week, and I was forced to reconsider and remember the experience. I have not come near fully processing it, and I don't know when that will all happen.

At the end of our week in New Orleans, our last devotion included thinking of a phrase that summarized or epitomized the experience for us. Mine was "exhaustingly aware."

I pray that New Orleans and its citizens (since not all are currently residents) will find elements of resurrection. It is a continuous process of rebirth and renewal, filled with struggles and death but also full of hope and mystery.

Another powerful, yet exhausting, element of this Lent came in the form of some amazing discussions with close friends and near strangers. We talked openly about experiences of difference, racism, religious misunderstanding and manipulation...

And then there's Patty's death. I hadn't seen or talked to her in several years. She was the first female minister I was close to but not related to. She was strong, intelligent, compassionate, amazing. She was truly called to ministry. I attended her wedding in a pink ruffled dress in the 7th grade. I was the acolyte at her ordination. And on Palm Sunday, I sat in the third row from the back at her funeral. But Palm Sunday was fitting for Patty -- rejoicing in God -- as was the final hymn of the service, "All Things Bright and Beautiful." I feel a huge loss. I am sad.

But yesterday, I sat in University Worship and heard an amazing woman preach a powerful resurrection sermon. I sat across from the four robed female ministers, and something in me jumped. I was glad to be there.

A professor at our school pointed out that different people dwell in, or are most comfortable in particular liturgical events. I am Easter People. Give me new life and rebirth anyday.
Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.

Happy Shannon Day!

Today, my little brother turned 24.
Happy Birthday, Shannon!

HAPPY EASTER!!

for at least another 35 minutes!

I've had a good Easter.
- cinnamon rolls
- University Worship (I was the "gospel bearer" and I collected the offering, so I wore an alb, which was so long I kept stepping on it and I almost fell on my head going up the stairs at the front of the chapel during the offering.)
- University Worship Easter dinner from Agnes and Muriel's (I sat with a rockin' professor and Barbara Brown Taylor, who preached a rockin' sermon)
- Easter dinner #2 at Beth and Kevin's, with lots of friends and good stories and food
- Easter dinner #3 at Narcie's (I was still so full from my other two dinners, I didn't actually eat anything at Narcie's but it was fun to hang with the Wesley kids.)

And now I have to write up some info for a presentation.
And I have to read a book about postcolonial feminist Biblical interpretation for a meeting-outside-of-class tomorrow morning.
Yes, it's that time of the semester when everything piles up and is due all at once.
Rock on.

At least it's not Lent anymore.
I was sick of Lent.
Resurrection is way better.
I am Easter People.

Dude

I cannot write this paper.
It's on a book about Islamic women.
I have no topic.
I do, however, only have 2 hours and 15 minutes until it is due.

I suck at being a student.

I really like being here, and going to classes (except NT, that is), and learning things.
I just suck at making myself write the papers.
Alas.

Blah

Spring Break was overwhelming, and now it is just over.

I'll write about my trip to New Orleans soon,
and maybe even post some pictures.

However, in the meantime
I feel blah.
I got sick the other day, and I didn't have a restful break.
Thus, I am mildly feeble.

I have a book to read tonight
for a meeting that might be happening
with my prof at 10am.
I have not read said book.
And I am tired.

Mostly I just feel blah.
Not super stoked.
Not majorly bummed.
Just plain old blah.

Kirby's gone to the great outfield in the sky

Kirby Puckett made me a baseball fan.

When I was in 4th grade, the school patrol (tiny little crossing guards) went to a Twins game. We played the Orioles -- I remember because I kept calling them the "Oreos," and because one kid wore an Orioles hat it got thrown out the bus window.
Anyway, our seats were at the top of the Metrodome, and I could barely see the field. I don't remember much of the game, but I do remember Kirby. Whenever he was up, the announcer would call "Kirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrbeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Pucccccketttttt!"

I was sold.

Later that season, my Twins went to the World Series ('87). I got my homer hanky from the Star Tribune. I waved it. I cheered. I watched Kirby cross himself each time he stepped up to the plate. I watched him jump higher than a short man (several inches shy of 6') should be able to. They won. I was happy.

I wanted a Kirby bear.

I moved to the South in 1988, right into Braves territory. In 1991, my friend Kari (a fellow Minnesotan by birth) and I wore our matching Twins tshirts to junior high to cheer our team, and to ruffle local feathers. I got dangly earrings with quarter-sized baseballs that said "Twins," and oh yeah you bet I wore them. I taunted my classmates. I told my friends that they'd be disappointed, because Hrbek, Gladden, Blyleven, and Puckett would do it again.

Don't worry. I was right. My Twins won.
It was a Cinderella Series, and my Cinderella kicked the Braves' Cinderella Ass. Nah, it was close. It was exciting. It made me very happy.



And now, I live in Atlanta. I go to bunches of Braves games. I just bought a block of tickets for this season.
But I am a Twins fan in my soul ("at heart" is not strong or deep enough). I love the Twins. If ever there was an underdog, if ever there was a hard stadium to play in... if ever there was a team that loved the game enough to beat the odds and win the series -- that team was my Twins in '87 and '91.

And now, my favorite baseball player has died.

Let me tell you more about why he rocked. He played only 12 years (1984-1996), but:
He played in 10 consecutive All-Star games.
He stayed with one team for his whole career.
When he retired, he held the club record for hits, doubles, total bases, at bats, and runs.


Kirby was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 2001.

http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=2357158
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/wire?section=mlb&id=2355887
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/wire?section=mlb&id=2357209

Goodbye, Puck.

Take me home, country roads

I'm not from West Virginia. But for most of my life, country roads have led to my home of the moment.
I've moved a lot, and several times in college I had to call my parents for directions home. So, home for me is not a place, but a feeling, memories of times and people who guided and shaped me.

I was talking with some friends about what is the best idea for a first appointment to a church. Now, I don't want to be appointed to a church, but they do. And their position was that being an associate at a larger church is good because it offers a mentoring atmosphere. Plus, there's the whole city vs. country thing -- it seems it's hard to find a mate as a minister in a small town.

I argued for the smaller church, the smaller town. Country roads. People whose families have lived in that place for generations. Stores owned by real people who say hello and remember your name. Friends who live on streets named after their relatives. Folks who will invite you to eat homecooked Sunday dinner with their families.

Don't get me wrong, I love living in Atlanta. And parts of it feel so right to me. But I feel at home when I drive along the backroads in South Carolina or the canopy roads in Tallahassee, when I walk along the Market in Charleston, when I see miles and miles flat farmland and black dirt in Minnesota, when I turn onto my grandmother's street in Gainesville.

Moving into a small town, you are bound to be an outsider for a while. Perhaps quite a while. But I want those friends to know that in this case, being the minister affords you some grace. And once you get the rhythm of the place, it's home. Home for a while. And then you leave. Because that's what Methodist ministers do. As the daughter of two of them, I've been an outsider most of the time. And I left a lot of times.

I started over a lot of times, and that means that I don't have the same kind of friendships that other people have. Recently, I contacted some folks I went to elementary school with. Immediately, I realized how weird that was. For me, they were my friends from ages 6-10. For them, I was a girl who was there a few years and then moved away. Most of their friends stayed.

For me, friendship doesn't end when contact dissapates. Just because I don't see someone anymore, that doesn't mean I love them any less or value their impact on my life any less. If that were the case, I wouldn't have much. Perhaps it's the sheer volume of people who have been important to me that makes it less likely that I will keep in touch. Perhaps I am a terrible friend, but I hope that's not it. I hope that people can understand that I can't possibly keep in touch with all the people that I love. But the lack of contact also doesn't mean that I would be any less responsive if they needed me.

All of this means that I get very excited when I see anyone from my past. Overly excited. And I bet that is overwhelming for them. But my feelings for old friends don't change or fade in their absence from my daily life. This can create a disconnect, since I hold the person that I knew then dear, but I don't really know the person who is now. But I know that we are all becoming, not being, and it's exciting to see the changes in people's lives.

And man are there changes. At Christmas, I got more than one family photo card from college friends. My friends have kids, and dogs, and houses, and real jobs. Life is so amazing, and I feel so blessed to get to see so many sides of it. I am so blessed to love so many people. Even if they don't know it.

Country roads, take me home to the place I belong...

Stupid Grad School

Making me write papers and read stuff.

I have a colloquy paper (2-3 pages)
and a book review type paper (4-5 pages)
due tomorrow.
I have not started them.
I have read some stuff, but certainly not all the stuff.
I believe I shall fail...

So, here are my favorite crayon names*
from the 48 count Crayola box on our coffee table:
Mauvelous (malvavilloso, mauveilleux)
Naranja rojizo (red orange, orange-rouge)
Dandelion (diente de leon, pissenlit)
Purple mountain's majesty (montanos purpuras majestuosas, majestueuses monagnes pourpres)
Macaroni and cheese (macarrones con queso, macaroni au fromage)
Granny smith apple (manzana granny smith, pomme granny smith)

*all the colors are in 3 languages now, except for chestnut, lavender, salmon, tumbleweed, mahogany, melon, tan, sky blue, and spring green.

Please note that these are my favorite names, not colors, of crayons.

Happy Heart Day!

I hope you (my two readers) are having a delightful Valentine's Day!
Regardless of romantic status, know that you are loved.*
Enjoy the wind and sun on your face, take a minute to watch the birds and squirrels in the trees, soak in the beauty of the world.*
Have a wonderful day, full of love and laughter!*


*Here are classic Beth moments of pure cheesiness -- it happens less and less, but on Valentine's Day it has resurfaced!