Friday, December 30, 2011

Good Guys, Bad Guys

"I seen bad men do good things and I've seen good men do bad things."

Sometimes, the good guys do really bad things. For some reason, they're still good though. I don't know why that is. A bad guy can do as many good things as he wants- had can do good things all day long!- but he will still be a bad guy.

This kind of surfaced this week while I was with my friends. Some of my friends are good kids and some of them are really bad. That's always the way it is. In every group there are "good kids" and "bad kids." It's not like the bad kids are going to bomb my school tomorrow or anything. I'm talking social preditors. I'm talking kids who are really messed up inside.

The hole not made for me.

My world is closing in on me
I'm crushed beneath its weight
I'm stuck
It's over
I can't escape
These walls which box me in
And pinch
And squeeze
Are forcing me
Already oddly shaped
Into a hole which will not fit
A hole not made for me.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

The Ashes of my Ex-Life.

I was digging through some old posts and I found this one that never got posted for some reason: 

I'm an obsessive journalist. I write down e v e r y t h i n g that happens to me- as it happens. You can find almost all my important thoughts stuffed into binders and boxes in my room. It's really important for me to build life perspective. I do this by writing down what I feel and then digging it back up again six months later and reading about it.

There are parts of my life that aren't important anymore.

Those parts get edited out.

Every life is a story and every story has parts to it- good parts, bad parts, happy parts, sad parts.
Every person has to live through good times and bad times.
Every person has to cry... every person wants something and is brutally crushed in the process...
Everyone faces disappointments. 

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Who Outsmarted Who?

Hahahaha! Watching "The Rescuers Down Under" again.... that movie never gets old. Neither does this scene:D 

"My mental facilities are twice what yours are, ya pea brain!"

"I didn't make it all the way through third grade for nothin'!"

Joy to the World

There is always a place for joyful,
if sometimes solemn,
carols for me in this season.
I find myself exhausted from 
Coldplay, Lopez, and Sliversun. 
Carols are rest for me-
 rest from my boombox, rock and roll,
addicted lifestyle;
because, honestly, hip-hop takes
so much emotional energy!


I had a dream the other night that I was standing 
in a beautiful avenue between 
a row of buildings late
one night just before Christmas.
Snow was falling deep around me.
The trees along the avenue were decorated
with lights and an unseen choir was
singing this song:

It was so beautiful I wished I would never 
wake up. But, of course, that couldn't
be helped. Long after the beautiful lights and voices
had faded away, I still held onto the feeling
that buried deep in this season 
there is a gift, made especially for me 
before I could walk or talk, before I knew 
my own name, and long before 
I even existed. 

When I sing Christmas Carols I am most
conscious of that gift. They always
have the amazing ability to transport me 
all the way back to my very first Christmases
before I had yet opened that gift
and it lay there, wrapped in festive paper. 

I'm still opening that gift- the gift of a friendship
that will last me this whole life and beyond. 
This is my friendship with Christ Jesus.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

The House

She’s old now, her crippled hands
Rest easy in her lap;
Now shut the eyes which twinkled bright
At every merry laugh.

As barren as the dusty walls
As old as chair and crib
The house where she was given birth
The house in which she lives.

The rocking chair she sits in now
Is where she used to nurse.
The tiny crib where she did lay
Her children, she used first.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Luke 2

In the same region there were Shepherds 
out in the field, 
keeping watch over their flock by night.

and an angel of the LORD appeared to them,

and the glory of the Lord shone around them, 
and they were filled with great fear.

And the angel said to them, "Fear not, for behold, 
I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all 
the people.

For unto you is born this day in the City of David 
a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.

And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby
wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger."

And suddenly there was with the Angel a multitude 
of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

"Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased!" -Luke 2:8-14

Merry Christmas

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Life is an Equation.

I've had my dreams... my aspirations, my disappointments. I expected so much out of life. The funny thing is that the one thing life turned out to be was the very thing I never expected:

My life is just another boring math problem.

It's a problem I have to get to solve every day. I take all the pieces of this equation, line them up on two sides of an equal sign and try desperately to make them match. I work the problem out, first one side and then the other, until it finally occurs to me that I don't even have all the pieces there to begin with.

So, I go out in life gathering experiences to complete my equation but somehow they never seem to be enough to say all that there is about myself. I know I'm going to sound totally arrogant when I say this, but this equation I'm trying so desperately to solve is ME! Not in a lifetime will I be able to solve this equation totally.

Friday, December 9, 2011

Cutie Patootie

Who am I?

I am the tiniest bomb, ticking 1200 beats 
before dropping the weight of a penny 
on some unsuspecting intruder
to my territory.

If you know the answer already, don't tell! Everyone else... I'm interested to see what you come up with. 

The thing about magic is that it works every time. 


"Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius -- and a lot of courage -- to move in the opposite direction." -Albert Einstein

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

The Well Said Blog

This post is, I suppose, kind of embarrassing, but necessary. I have slapped up posts on this site that I regret dreadfully. I wanting nothing more than to rip something down, sometimes, as soon as it goes up. But, for the most part, I haven't. I want to be honest with myself. I would rather go back and critique something than just rip it off. I force myself to read everything I've written many times. I am my own best critic at this moment.

This past week I have been convicted, with respect to my blogging, to rethink my approach and methods to blogging. You see, I have a lot of good things (and bad) to say. I have so much to tell you. But, I can't tell you everything all at once or nothing would make sense. I need to organize my thoughts. I need to say one thing at a time and say it well!

I want this to be a well said blog.

It's not enough to have knowledge or conviction if you can't say it in a way people can understand.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Goodmorning Gorilla

I must have been as hungry as a gorilla this morning. I started cooking and got carried away.

Gorilla Tacos:

Get out the eggs and the fry pan. Turn on the heat and let the pan warm SLOWLY while you whip the eggs and start singing along to to radio. After you scramble the eggs with margarine, dig around in the fridge and find the left over Sunday dinner... pork and 'taters! Yummmmm! 

Skip to the micro and throw in the Tupperware with the pork, taters, and carrots. Warm three minutes. Get the corn tortillas out and arrange six in a shallow bowl. Switch for the Tupperware in the micro. Heat the tortillas for 1 minute. 

Skip back to the stove top and turn off the heat before your eggs burn. Throw the pork, taters, and carrots in the keep warm. Cover with lid. 

Bouncing to the beat of "Let's Get Together" (Parent Trap, 1961) move on back to the microwave for your tortillas. Rearrange them in the shallow bowl, three sets of two in a row so that they will be strong enough to hold your gorilla sized tacos.

Stuff those tacos with eggs, pork, taters, carrots, and drench it in plenty of Red Hot.


Saturday, December 3, 2011

This. is. home.

A foreigner from warmer lands
Will laugh at us today
While they are huddled warm inside
We run outside to play

Frostbite nips my bright red nose
I snap another one
The frozen lake, the icy park
I call this having fun

I could begrudge the weather here
But I would miss so much
When living life we must enjoy
The cozy AND the harsh

Enjoying every dazzling sight
I’m taking all this in
I don’t care what the weather is
If I call this my home

Thursday, December 1, 2011


Huzzah! We're finished. Check out the final product on Andrea's Blog. I'm posting is here also, but I apologize profusely for the wacky highlighting. If I don't highlight it grey, for some reason, it wants to have a white highlight.

Sir Glancelot sat at round table with a plethora of admirers, a goblet of wine, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut into four triangles. (That's the way that Glancelot liked his sandwiches. He detested having his sandwich cut into squares. His mother had cut them that ways when he was young and he had never forgiven her for it.)
     Glancelot had just selected the second triangle from the top (clockwise) and was taking his first, long expected bite when the unthinkable happened. Instead of sinking his glistening pearls into that delectable treat, Glancelot found himself crunching hard bone.

     Glancelot was appalled. "Why," he demanded, "is there a bone in my sandwich?" 

      He didn't expect anyone to reply. People were generally too afraid to talk to him when he was angry. So he was shocked when he heard a gloomy bass voice say, "That would be mine."
      More surprising than the voice was the fact that it came from thin air. But no, Glancelot realized when he looked closer, not thin air. It was little more than a slight, gaseous discoloration at first, but the longer he stared at it, the more solid it became. And at last it assumed definite, if rather smoky, form. It was a wraithlike beast. A ghostly dog.