There is something wonderful about clicking the "create" button. What will I create with the clicking of these keys? Will it be worth reading? Will it somehow inform or brighten your day?
I believe in the idea that if I'm taking the time to write something for you, it should be something that will be worth your time to read. I have not always lived up to this idea. Hopefully my ranting about work is at least entertaining, but it is not necessary for you to know the frustrations of trying to please customers who simply cannot be pleased. We live in a society of instant gratification. Sometimes we must just deal with what life dishes out.
2.28.2006
Surely you're joking.......
- Fed-ex delivered the package to your NEIGHBOR? Was the driver dyslexic that day?
- Your customer service has REALLY been THAT HORRIBLE? I mean, we get a bit touchy sometimes, but we do try to be polite.
- oh good! you liked the gloves...and you're ordering two more pair? That's not a joke, that's a person I like.
- YOUR dog chewed through your watchband and you're being irritable with ME?! Train your dog!! You expect free expedited shipping? Get over it.
2.17.2006
wedding bel.....er.., bagpipes
There was a wedding on Saturday the 11th of February. It involved two of my cousins, my aunt, my uncle and myself, various other people, including my mother, my boyfriend, a lovely social worker from El Salvador, a softball player who made the wedding cake and a photographer from TBN who happened to be a first cousin of the bride. The wedding ceremony itself included a bagpipe, organ and snare drum processional, an operatic bass solo sung by the father of the bride and an oboe solo by her sister. The ceremony ended with a blessing of the couple done by the someone from First Presbyterian in Mendocino, California. He blessed the couples' eyes, ears, mouths, hearts and finished by kneeling on the steps of the dais in front of over 300 people and blessed the couples feet.
2.14.2006
The Secret
Every superhero needs a good secret weapon. I'm no superhero, but the closest thing I have to a hero or a weapon is my mother. Here's why:
After earning a degree in biology from Minot State University my mother joined the Peace Corps. She was sent to Ethiopia where she spent two years teaching science in a school in the village of Hosanna, near Addis Ababba. (accent on both first syllables please.) She returned home, experienced culture shock and chose to return to Ethiopia. Unfortunately the Peace Corps program in Ethiopia had disbanded due to unrest in the country. She went to the headmaster of her school in Hosanna and asked for a job. He accepted her back and she spent the next two years there teaching as an independent person living in the Ethiopian culture. When she returned she'd been changed physically and emotionally. This was in the early seventies.
She married my father in June of 1977. I was born in 1982. We lived on a small farm in Central North Dakota. If you look at a map of the US you will see that this is the middle, of the middle, of the middle of nowhere. There is nowhere else on the North American continent that is farther from a major city. Dallas, Seattle, LA and New York City are all on the coasts of our continent. This is the center.
After my mother's experiences in Ethiopia she was somewhat committed to raising her child in such a way that if that child ever became a missionary to a third world country, she would not deal with culture shock. We had an automatic washer and dryer for awhile. Then mom donated them to HavIt, an organization in a nearby small town that provided housing and work for the developmentally challenged.
I know how to wash clothes using an old-fashioned wringer washer. Should you ever wonder how, I will tell you. I will also describe the experience of a 5-year-old who accidentally sticks her little fingers through the wringer with the clothes.
Part of the reason she donated the automatic washer and dryer was that we have iron rich well water on our farm. Our clothes received rust stains. We didn't install a shower until I was in junior high. I developed a rusty sheen on my hair after this installment. It was about this time that she purchased a microwave from the nearby thrift store. She also purchased a new color tv and a vcr. I'd grown up with used black and white televisions that only really got CBS and PBS.
This was also when I first got heat in my upstairs room. Dad got an electric baseboard heater from the local electric company and strung wires up through the wall to put electric heat in my room. Up to this point I'd gotten by with an electric blanket. The temperature drops to negative 30 degrees outdoors in the winter. The average temperature in my room in January without heat was around 50 degrees.
This is how I grew up. This is my life. Please understand and please do not think I was abused in any way. I always knew that my parents loved me. This was the life that they CHOSE.
Books have always had the utmost importance in our family and the walls of my parents home are covered with books still. We did not talk much as we spent winters together in our farm house. We simply curled up with a book and a cat, each in our own seperate room of the house. The wind howled outside and the blizzards raged. And I lost myself somewhere in a book.
After earning a degree in biology from Minot State University my mother joined the Peace Corps. She was sent to Ethiopia where she spent two years teaching science in a school in the village of Hosanna, near Addis Ababba. (accent on both first syllables please.) She returned home, experienced culture shock and chose to return to Ethiopia. Unfortunately the Peace Corps program in Ethiopia had disbanded due to unrest in the country. She went to the headmaster of her school in Hosanna and asked for a job. He accepted her back and she spent the next two years there teaching as an independent person living in the Ethiopian culture. When she returned she'd been changed physically and emotionally. This was in the early seventies.
She married my father in June of 1977. I was born in 1982. We lived on a small farm in Central North Dakota. If you look at a map of the US you will see that this is the middle, of the middle, of the middle of nowhere. There is nowhere else on the North American continent that is farther from a major city. Dallas, Seattle, LA and New York City are all on the coasts of our continent. This is the center.
After my mother's experiences in Ethiopia she was somewhat committed to raising her child in such a way that if that child ever became a missionary to a third world country, she would not deal with culture shock. We had an automatic washer and dryer for awhile. Then mom donated them to HavIt, an organization in a nearby small town that provided housing and work for the developmentally challenged.
I know how to wash clothes using an old-fashioned wringer washer. Should you ever wonder how, I will tell you. I will also describe the experience of a 5-year-old who accidentally sticks her little fingers through the wringer with the clothes.
Part of the reason she donated the automatic washer and dryer was that we have iron rich well water on our farm. Our clothes received rust stains. We didn't install a shower until I was in junior high. I developed a rusty sheen on my hair after this installment. It was about this time that she purchased a microwave from the nearby thrift store. She also purchased a new color tv and a vcr. I'd grown up with used black and white televisions that only really got CBS and PBS.
This was also when I first got heat in my upstairs room. Dad got an electric baseboard heater from the local electric company and strung wires up through the wall to put electric heat in my room. Up to this point I'd gotten by with an electric blanket. The temperature drops to negative 30 degrees outdoors in the winter. The average temperature in my room in January without heat was around 50 degrees.
This is how I grew up. This is my life. Please understand and please do not think I was abused in any way. I always knew that my parents loved me. This was the life that they CHOSE.
Books have always had the utmost importance in our family and the walls of my parents home are covered with books still. We did not talk much as we spent winters together in our farm house. We simply curled up with a book and a cat, each in our own seperate room of the house. The wind howled outside and the blizzards raged. And I lost myself somewhere in a book.
random thoughts
Sherman Alexie is from the Spokane area. He's the author of "The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven" which is the book that the movie Smoke Signals is based upon. Jim Boyd is also a local, I think. There is a music store here that sells his music. (He is a Native American folk singer.) Smoke Signals has some scenes that were shot here. Also, the movie Bennie and Joon was shot in Peaceful Valley, which is a small neighborhood near the river and under the Maple Street Bridge.
(I tried riding my bike across the Maple Street Bridge at around 8:30 p.m. one evening this past fall. The pedestrian lane is basically a fenced "tunnel" that is suspended over the river next two four lanes of traffic. Halfway across I came across a small bicycle that someone had removed the seat from and left on the concrete walkway. "Why is that there?" I thought. Had someone been accosted and had their bicycle wrecked? THAT was when I looked around and realized I was trapped in a tunnel with no way out and if someone should try to stop me or harm me I was trapped. To my right was a street with traffic and to my left was hundreds of feet of empty space with a swift moving river below. And I couldn't go either direction anyway because there was a chainlink fence on either side of and above me. That was when I started peddling as hard as I could. I shot out of the bridge tunnel, peddled up a small hill and recognized a transient person sitting listening to a radio in the shelter of another bridge. I was out of breath but his presence startled me again and I peddled harder. When I reached Jon's apartment I was breathless and a bit sheepish. I now ride my bike mainly in the daylight, and NEVER across the Maple Street Bridge.)
(I tried riding my bike across the Maple Street Bridge at around 8:30 p.m. one evening this past fall. The pedestrian lane is basically a fenced "tunnel" that is suspended over the river next two four lanes of traffic. Halfway across I came across a small bicycle that someone had removed the seat from and left on the concrete walkway. "Why is that there?" I thought. Had someone been accosted and had their bicycle wrecked? THAT was when I looked around and realized I was trapped in a tunnel with no way out and if someone should try to stop me or harm me I was trapped. To my right was a street with traffic and to my left was hundreds of feet of empty space with a swift moving river below. And I couldn't go either direction anyway because there was a chainlink fence on either side of and above me. That was when I started peddling as hard as I could. I shot out of the bridge tunnel, peddled up a small hill and recognized a transient person sitting listening to a radio in the shelter of another bridge. I was out of breath but his presence startled me again and I peddled harder. When I reached Jon's apartment I was breathless and a bit sheepish. I now ride my bike mainly in the daylight, and NEVER across the Maple Street Bridge.)
2.13.2006
Monday again
There are days when you pray "Lord, just give me strength."
Today is one of them. This was one of the more amazing and draining weekends of my life. One amazingly beautiful wedding, combined with a horrid cold, my mother being in town and my boyfriend giving two really really great presentations on his trip to Colombia.
We thought the stress was over. Then Sunday evening he checked his e-mail and found this. Pray for Mauricio and Gilberto. If you're activism minded please e-mail me or leave a note in the comments section.
"Do all the good you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, for as long as ever you can."
I think that is roughly similar to something some great Christian thinker once said. I've forgotten who.
Today is one of them. This was one of the more amazing and draining weekends of my life. One amazingly beautiful wedding, combined with a horrid cold, my mother being in town and my boyfriend giving two really really great presentations on his trip to Colombia.
We thought the stress was over. Then Sunday evening he checked his e-mail and found this. Pray for Mauricio and Gilberto. If you're activism minded please e-mail me or leave a note in the comments section.
"Do all the good you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, for as long as ever you can."
I think that is roughly similar to something some great Christian thinker once said. I've forgotten who.
2.06.2006
Life as a Lackey
I want a "smite" button on my keyboard. No fair.
Those of you who are Far Side fans know that only God gets a "smite" button. Oh well.
Why does Dale want Stratos Gloves? Who is Dale anyway? Does he really exist or did someone make up all these test orders?
Why do I have to take up precious brain space with things like the function of the F4 key?
Will I get in trouble for blogging at work?
I should behave.
Those of you who are Far Side fans know that only God gets a "smite" button. Oh well.
Why does Dale want Stratos Gloves? Who is Dale anyway? Does he really exist or did someone make up all these test orders?
Why do I have to take up precious brain space with things like the function of the F4 key?
Will I get in trouble for blogging at work?
I should behave.
This is good.
I have an amazing boyfriend.
And good friends
and a job.
And I'm "employed" by a good ministry and live with good people.
This is good.
oh yeah. My family is pretty nice too. They support me.
And good friends
and a job.
And I'm "employed" by a good ministry and live with good people.
This is good.
oh yeah. My family is pretty nice too. They support me.
Just another Manic Monday
I'm sitting at my new "job" waiting to be trained. If they fire me, I may rejoice but in the meantime it's decent money and means I can get really cool outdoor clothing and gear at a reduced price. My day and my week are looking insanely busy, but I can deal with that. I did survive five years of college and campus ministry involvement. And somehow I worked at least an hour of piano practice into 5 out of 7 of my weekdays during my last two years of college. I can handle this too.
But what is their deal? I am being paid to sit here and wait for other people so they can "train" me. (I am not a dog.)
Nevermind the fact that I actually worked here for two weeks during the Christmas season. But I was working random seasonal work then.
But what is their deal? I am being paid to sit here and wait for other people so they can "train" me. (I am not a dog.)
Nevermind the fact that I actually worked here for two weeks during the Christmas season. But I was working random seasonal work then.
2.02.2006
community
I like living alone.
I miss the prairie.
stupid community building.
I hate talking to people.
wah wah wah poor me.
I miss the prairie.
stupid community building.
I hate talking to people.
wah wah wah poor me.
2.01.2006
hmmmm....
The frustrating thing about having goals and dreams (like an afterschool progam) is that you have to stay put awhile to accomplish them. If I go through with this I'll have to do all my wandering in my head for awhile.
1.31.2006
art and music as healing
I have this bizarre notion that perhaps my purpose here is to bring arts and music to the kids of West Central. I started by teaching piano lessons, but I really only have two students, and they are from families that can afford a piano teacher. The ones I want to teach are the kids next door who's mother could never afford it. I have this dream that this will all expand into some sort of art's-centered after school and summer program here. Kids need something creative and contructive to do to occupy their time.
The fine arts can be incredibly healing. Blues musicians deal with feelings of sadness and depression by writing songs. German expressionist painters dealt with the emotional landscape of their time and country by painting strong broad strokes with intense screaming deep colors. A scream of anguish in a painting, so to speak.
I can think of no better way for children to deal with the fact that mom and dad beat them. Or that mom and dad can't afford to pay the rent and the whole family will have to move. If mom and dad can't pay rent, they sure as hell can't afford a child therapist.
I don't know what I'm doing at all. But I have a few tools to start with. I have a collection of keyboards. I have the internet. I have piano training and teaching materials. I have a basic knowledge of crafts and some basic drawing skills. I am surrounded by people who care about children and West Central. I know a woman who is studying children and art therapy, or something similar. And I give a damn about these kids.
Most of all I can do what I really know how to do. Pray...and keep walking.
The fine arts can be incredibly healing. Blues musicians deal with feelings of sadness and depression by writing songs. German expressionist painters dealt with the emotional landscape of their time and country by painting strong broad strokes with intense screaming deep colors. A scream of anguish in a painting, so to speak.
I can think of no better way for children to deal with the fact that mom and dad beat them. Or that mom and dad can't afford to pay the rent and the whole family will have to move. If mom and dad can't pay rent, they sure as hell can't afford a child therapist.
I don't know what I'm doing at all. But I have a few tools to start with. I have a collection of keyboards. I have the internet. I have piano training and teaching materials. I have a basic knowledge of crafts and some basic drawing skills. I am surrounded by people who care about children and West Central. I know a woman who is studying children and art therapy, or something similar. And I give a damn about these kids.
Most of all I can do what I really know how to do. Pray...and keep walking.
1.30.2006
Introducing a Stranger
If you look to the right of the page you'll see that I have added Kristin to my list of friends' blogs. Unlike all the other blogs listed there Kristin is someone I have never actually met. I discovered her blog last winter when, due to a lack of contact with my peers I spent hours a day reading people's blogs and surfing the internet. I had surfed over to Jessica's blog and was randomly clicking on HER list of blog friends when I discovered Debaucherous and Dishevelled. I was intrigued by the writing style and she was talking about her soon-to-be-born baby. I kept coming back because I wanted to see the promised pictures of this new little human. Her writing style continued to entertain me. A year later, I still wander over to her blog, only now there are regular pictures of the baby and the dog.
1.29.2006
Strong Women
- Strong women race Arabian horses into strong North Dakota winds.
- Strong women wash their laundry with old-fashioned wringer washers because they gave the automatic washer and dryer to charity.
- Strong women spend a couple hours after school in the field hauling rocks by hand with their mother.
- Strong women travel half-way across the country in small cars and sleep by the side of the road because they don't want to pay for a motel.
- Strong women haul small square bales through 3 foot snow drifts in sub-zero temperatures with a homemade toboggan so the cattle and horses will have a warm place to sleep.
- Strong women go out and pitch hay to the horse when the wind chill factor is negtive 60 degrees.
- Strong women respect the people around them and do not use them.
- Strong women dig most of a quarter mile of potatoes on their own, then haul them into the yard with the pickup and wash them with the garden hose on the lawn.
- Strong women get up at 6:00 a.m. to walk three miles before work.
- Strong women survive child abuse, divorce, depression, thyroid disease, multiple sclerosis and much more and still live "normal" productive lives.
- Strong women care for their aging parents in their homes.
- Strong women care for other people's ageing parents as well.
- Strong women journal as a form of therapy.
- Strong women learn to bite their tongue rather than using it as a weapon.
1.28.2006
tirade
I used to be enraged by men who disrespected and used women. Now I'm disgusted by women who use men. Have I been guilty of that?
I used to despise Walmart and refuse to shop there. Now I realize that they are simply one of many capitalist corporations screwing over the little guys to make a profit. But refusing to shop at Walmart while living surrounded by people who shop there because they can't afford to shop elsewhere would be utterly hypocritical. Especially when I grew up surrounded by people who shop at Wal-mart because they couldn't afford to shop elsewhere.
I believe in supporting local businesses, but I will occasionally spend a dollar or two at Walmart simply so I can say "I understand" to the girls next door. The third grader said to me the other day, "I know Wal-mart is bad for the world, but when your family is like ours, sometimes you have to shop there."
Her mother is 25 and she and her husband are supporting two girls of their own, plus her sisters two children. I no longer have any patience for those whe "refuse to set foot in Wal-mart" yet are not in solidarity with the poor either. That is hypocrisy. I'm sure I've been guilty of hypocrisy myself many time.
My father actually DEFENDED Archer Daniels Midland corporation on the phone the other day. He pointed out that they are simply another capitalism driven corporation that makes a profit by screwing over the poor farmer and that is simply the way this country works. Yes, but my father IS the poor farmer who is being screwed over by ADM.
I want to crawl in a hole, or run and hide in the jungle, but that will never accomplish anything.
I believe it was Gandhi, or maybe someone else who said "We must BE the change we wish to see in the world."
I used to despise Walmart and refuse to shop there. Now I realize that they are simply one of many capitalist corporations screwing over the little guys to make a profit. But refusing to shop at Walmart while living surrounded by people who shop there because they can't afford to shop elsewhere would be utterly hypocritical. Especially when I grew up surrounded by people who shop at Wal-mart because they couldn't afford to shop elsewhere.
I believe in supporting local businesses, but I will occasionally spend a dollar or two at Walmart simply so I can say "I understand" to the girls next door. The third grader said to me the other day, "I know Wal-mart is bad for the world, but when your family is like ours, sometimes you have to shop there."
Her mother is 25 and she and her husband are supporting two girls of their own, plus her sisters two children. I no longer have any patience for those whe "refuse to set foot in Wal-mart" yet are not in solidarity with the poor either. That is hypocrisy. I'm sure I've been guilty of hypocrisy myself many time.
My father actually DEFENDED Archer Daniels Midland corporation on the phone the other day. He pointed out that they are simply another capitalism driven corporation that makes a profit by screwing over the poor farmer and that is simply the way this country works. Yes, but my father IS the poor farmer who is being screwed over by ADM.
I want to crawl in a hole, or run and hide in the jungle, but that will never accomplish anything.
I believe it was Gandhi, or maybe someone else who said "We must BE the change we wish to see in the world."
1.24.2006
and now, a word from our sponsor
"One of the many advantages of being cool like me, is that you don't get eaten by cannibals!!"
-Brak,
Space Ghost, Coast to Coast
-Brak,
Space Ghost, Coast to Coast
Wanderlust revisited
January is the month of "what if's?" and "what next's?" It seems that every day I learn something new and the world becomes a little broader. Even my little car now feels too small for me. So....what next?
My stint with the Westminster House is over at the end of August 2006. I now have a boyfriend in the mix and I'd rather not spend copious amounts of time far away from him, but I don't want to feel as if I'm trapped in the city of Spokane either.
What next?
Short term staff at Holden Village again?
Another trip to Europe?
Volunteer ministry at The Shelter, a youth hostel in the center of Amsterdam's Red Light District?
Move back to North Dakota for a few weeks?
Bum around, come and go and be ever on the move?
When does Wanderlust end? When does one settle down? And where does one settle down?
I have a magnet that I bought at an art shop in Taos, NM. It has a photo of a rusted VW beetle and it says "If you can't find it where you're at, where will you wander to find it?"
This has always been my moto.
My stint with the Westminster House is over at the end of August 2006. I now have a boyfriend in the mix and I'd rather not spend copious amounts of time far away from him, but I don't want to feel as if I'm trapped in the city of Spokane either.
What next?
Short term staff at Holden Village again?
Another trip to Europe?
Volunteer ministry at The Shelter, a youth hostel in the center of Amsterdam's Red Light District?
Move back to North Dakota for a few weeks?
Bum around, come and go and be ever on the move?
When does Wanderlust end? When does one settle down? And where does one settle down?
I have a magnet that I bought at an art shop in Taos, NM. It has a photo of a rusted VW beetle and it says "If you can't find it where you're at, where will you wander to find it?"
This has always been my moto.
1.21.2006
24
If 24 continues as it started it will be much much better than 23 was. Not that 2005 was a horrible year for me, seeing as how the last four months of it involved starting life in a new city, meeting a really great person and falling in love with that person. But 2005 also involved enduring a stressful children's ministry and even more stressful "servant staff" position at a Lutheran Bible camp and retreat center. I began 2005 feeling enormously depressed. I was depressed to the point where I hated getting out of bed in the mornings and didn't want to speak to any human being because I was convinced I had nothing of value to say to anyone. My body showed physical symptoms of this as well, but I was in central North Dakota, had little money and didn't know who to talk to.
Since I've moved away, I've found people who seem to value me as a human simply because I exist and I started talking with someone who has a PhD in psychology. I've also recently discovered that bearing the weight of that much stress can quite literally destroy your back. I've started intensive therapy sessions with a chiropractor here in town. Hopefully three daily therapy sessions with head and shoulder weights and cervical traction will strenghthen my spine and restore my back and neck to their natural function. (All those time I fell off of my horse didn't do much for my neck either.)
All this to simply say that age 24 is starting off with much more hope than 23 did. Last but not least was my birthday itself. I did my daily therapy session, got some financial help from my mother, and took myself downtown to find a nice outfit. I only intended to get a skirt, but I fell victim to a really nice sales clerk and a clearance rack at Macy's. When I left I was outfitted top to bottom, shoes and jewelry included. Then Jon took me to Mizuna's for supper and it was wonderful. We watched a movie together and I ended the day at home watching The Constant Gardner and crocheting with my housemate and her boyfriend. And then I did my therapy before bed.
Since I've moved away, I've found people who seem to value me as a human simply because I exist and I started talking with someone who has a PhD in psychology. I've also recently discovered that bearing the weight of that much stress can quite literally destroy your back. I've started intensive therapy sessions with a chiropractor here in town. Hopefully three daily therapy sessions with head and shoulder weights and cervical traction will strenghthen my spine and restore my back and neck to their natural function. (All those time I fell off of my horse didn't do much for my neck either.)
All this to simply say that age 24 is starting off with much more hope than 23 did. Last but not least was my birthday itself. I did my daily therapy session, got some financial help from my mother, and took myself downtown to find a nice outfit. I only intended to get a skirt, but I fell victim to a really nice sales clerk and a clearance rack at Macy's. When I left I was outfitted top to bottom, shoes and jewelry included. Then Jon took me to Mizuna's for supper and it was wonderful. We watched a movie together and I ended the day at home watching The Constant Gardner and crocheting with my housemate and her boyfriend. And then I did my therapy before bed.
True Peace
But the wisdom that comes from Heaven is first of all pure, then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace raise a harvest of righteousness.
James 3:17 (NIV)
17But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure. It is also peace loving, gentle at all times, and willing to yield to others. It is full of mercy and good deeds. It shows no partiality and is always sincere. 18And those who are peacemakers will plant seeds of peace and reap a harvest of goodness.
James 3:17 (New Living Translation)
James 3:17 (NIV)
17But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure. It is also peace loving, gentle at all times, and willing to yield to others. It is full of mercy and good deeds. It shows no partiality and is always sincere. 18And those who are peacemakers will plant seeds of peace and reap a harvest of goodness.
James 3:17 (New Living Translation)
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