the rest is still unwritten

Good Shoe Project aka Copy Cat Project

2010-12-15T12:45:00.000-08:00

Warning: Soap box post to follow, read at your own risk.

Why do we copy stuff? Why can't we come up with our own ideas? Why can't we figure out how to help the world in our own way?

Today I got an ad in my e-mail from Payless shoes. I LOVE Payless shoes. I know they are inexpensive and not the best made shoe out there, but their wide width shoes fit my wide feet better than any I've found anywhere else.

But I was really disappointed when I got this today: the Good Shoe Project.

You may be thinking, "ummm, hello Angela. Isn't World Vision and Airwalk and Payless joining together to bring shoes to shoeless children in Central America a great thing?"

YES, it's a great thing they're doing. I wish they'd come up with it on their own.

Many of you know my obession with TOMS Shoes. TOMS Shoes mission is to put shoes on the feet of shoeless children. Sound familiar?

Here is a classic TOMS shoe:

And a new "Hope Shoe" from Payless:

They couldn't even come up with their own show design? I remember from marketing class about price points and offering different qualities of product for different price points, but this is changing the world we're talking about here. Do we have to compete here too?

It leaves a bad taste in my mouth to see our American consumerism and capitalism bleeding over into charity and the Christian mission. Both TOMS Shoes and World Vision are clear about their mission to make a better world, but copycatting is not the way to go.

Payless, Airwalk, and World Vision your cheap knock off of the TOMS shoe isn't really doing anything for me.

Proverbs 3:9 days "Honor God with everything you own; give him the first and the best." If we have the opportunity to give what is in my opinion a better made TOMS shoe to a child in need should we opt for the cheaper Payless Hope shoe?

Because I'm usually an optimist and because I really do want the barefooted people of the world to at least have an option to put on a pair of shoes, I hope that your Good Shoe Project does well and puts shoes on the feet of lots of children.

And I hope they don't fall apart too quickly.

Family . . .

2010-04-11T19:09:00.000-07:00

is awesome. I've had two opportunities in the last couple of months to spend the weekend with the fabulous women in my mom's family and in my dad's family.

I'm so thankful to have a family so rich in character and diverse.

They are wonderful.

I love them.

The Barefoot Princess

2010-04-08T23:35:00.000-07:00

At one time in my life my nickname was the "Barefoot Princess". I received this nickname by, you guessed it, not wearing shoes, or going barefoot as often as I could get away with it.

I truly do not like to wear shoes.

However, by choosing to live in the cold, wet, rainy NW I wear shoes more often than not. I usually take them off as soon as I walk in my house, and probably wear flippy's more often than the average Portlander, pushing the limits of Spring and Fall weather.

But today I'm choosing not to wear shoes at all. All day. No shoes. In honor of all the people in the world who don't have shoes to wear. You can find out more information about my pledge here http://www.onedaywithoutshoes.com.

(Weeeelllllll, okay, I did stick a pair of flippies in my purse just in case I need to go in a "no shoes, no shirt, no service" establishment and I did use them once for about 15 minutes while in Seattle's Best.)

Observations from today:

1. Asphault and concrete look smooth, but they're not. By the time I walked the 4 blocks from my house to the MAX station, the bottom of my feet were already raw.

2. Portlanders are so desentitized to wierd people/stuff no one even blinked/noticed my bare feet, which was slightly disappointing since I worked hard at painting my toenails.

3. I'm a vain creature (see observation #2).

4. By the time I got to work, my feet where cold, wet, dirty, and my toes were numb.

5. It's really hard to get warm when your feet are cold. Actually, it might be impossible.

6. I found myself choosing my walking route according to where the sun was shining to keep my feet from being SO freezing, stinking cold.

7. I'm a wimp. After I rode the MAX home from work I put flippies on for the rest of my evening. It was a compromise. I really wanted to put actual shoes on. I wanted my feet to be warm again.

8. There is nothing princess-like about being barefoot when it doesn't involve walking through warm sand or across cool grass.

My 8 hour experience being shoeless is nothing compared to the many people in our world that don't have shoes. My feet were washed, lotioned, and warmed up at the end of the day and I know that going barefoot didn't really change the life of any shoeless person. It changed mine. My prayers for God's grace and mercy to provide for the poor and suffering will be a little more earnest, informed with the memory of my cold, raw feet.

Movin' on up

2010-02-04T17:04:00.000-08:00

Well we're movin on up,

To the east side,

To a deluxe apartment in the sky.

If you're friends with my new roommate you'll note that she also used a reference to "The Jeffersons" theme song on her "I've moved" cards. I'd like to say I'm sorry if you feel as if you've been inundated with "Jeffersons" references. The thing is, we both came to it without the influence of the other. I'm not sure what that says about her and I or maybe what kind of commentary it is on our culture as a whole.

For me the connection came when I was home over Christmas and my mom's sister Judy said, "Well, Ang, it sounds like you're moving up." I don't think she meant to reference the Jeffersons. Or maybe she did. Either way, since that moment in my parent's living room, when I think of my new apartment I hear the Jefferson's theme song in my head.

. . . but it's been a REALLY long time since I've seen that show and my memory of the melody is fuzzy at best, which means I've had a fuzzy half-hearted, really couldn't sing it if I wanted to, version running around in my head for a month . . . and it's getting annoying.

But I LOVE my new place. And I'm getting closer every day to being completely unpacked.

Of course, this move didn't come without sacrifice.

I miss my old place.

I miss my old roommate.

My cat misses her playmate Max.

Fa-La-La-La-Laaa, La-La-La-La

2009-12-19T23:57:00.000-08:00

"Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas,

Let your heart be light.

From now on our troubles will be out of sight."

I love Christmas music. I know much of it is completely unrealistic (I mean really, "our troubles will be out of sight"?), but I love it anyway. It makes me happy and full of hope.

Last night was the last concert performed by the community choir that I sing with--Touch of Class. It was a great concert, as were the first 5. I played a solo on my Clarinet during our rendition of "Away in the Manager" and managed for only the second time out of 5 concerts to play it perfectly.

Yay me!!!

I'm feeling pretty good about that considering when I picked my clarinet up in September my embouchure was nonexistant and I had to remind myself what all the fingerings were.

Our concert finished with a moving arrangement of "Mary Did You Know?" So moving, in fact, that I had to work hard at not tearing up--which would have made it impossible to hit the notes I was supposed to be belting out.

I realized too late in the concert schedule that I didn't have anyone take any pics, so I'll just have to settle for a group pic from last Spring.

For Christmas, imagine the same group of people only the women are all in black with "lovely" red scarves/sashes around our necks and the men are in tuxes. I love singing with this group of people!

Week Three . . .

2009-12-18T11:40:00.000-08:00

. . . . of the new gym routine is complete.

And I made it. Whew!

How long does it take to make a habit? Never mind, I don't want to know.

I'm just going to think about getting up and going Monday.

One day at a time sweet Jesus
That's all I'm asking of you
Just give me the strength
To do everyday what I have to do.

Day Two . . .

2009-12-04T11:14:00.000-08:00

of my new routine of going to the gym every Mon, Wed, and Fri.

So far so good.

We'll see if I get to day three.

If I could just bottle how I'm feeling right now: this adrenaline high, loose muscles, body just seems to work better, full of energy feeling and drink a little of it in the morning when I'm getting ready to go to the gym--you know, just enough to remind me that I'm gonna feel great in a couple of hours?

It would make the trek to 24 much easier.

Deluge

2009-11-21T07:55:00.000-08:00

del-uge: [del-yooj, -yoozh, del-ooj, -oozh, di-looj, -loozh] noun, verb, -uged, -uging.

–noun
1. a great flood of water; inundation; flood.
2. a drenching rain; downpour.
3. anything that overwhelms like a flood: a deluge of mail.
4. the Deluge. flood (def. 3).

–verb (used with object)
5. to flood; inundate.
6. to overrun; overwhelm: She was deluged with congratulatory letters.

Synonyms:1. See flood. 3. cataclysm, catastrophe.

I sat through 3 quarters of a high school football game last night . . . in the middle of a deluge. To say the least, I was cold and wet.

And, the team I was rooting for didn't win.

On the positive side, rain is beautiful falling through the lights of a football stadium and this kid on the other team was amazing. Check out this footage of him scoring a touchdown:

Play of the day: Grant's Kenneth Acker's amazing punt return touchdown

New Moon

2009-11-19T21:01:00.000-08:00

Dear New Moon naysayers:

I'm 36 and love the Twilight saga.

Get over it.

Love, Angela.

An Open Apology to the men of the Northwest

2009-06-15T15:59:00.000-07:00

I've been known to say that there is a distinct lack of chivalry in the NW.

Having grown up here, I can say from experience that outside of my Dad and a handful of other men, it's not often that a man opens the door for me or passes to the outside of the sidewalk, or any of those other benchmarks for chivalry (if there are benchmarks of chivalry).

Truthfully, I don't think I realized the lack until I moved to SE Kansas. When I transplanted myself to heartland I was taken aback and at first a little bit uncomfortable by the number of times a door was opened for me or held open for me, and the lengths to which men would sometimes go to be chivalrous. I had more flat tires in Kansas than I'd had before or since and they were all changed by different guy friends who insisted, even though I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself. And I found it nice.

After 6 years in Kansas, when I moved back to the NW I was again taken back, but this time by the LACK of courtesy displayed by men and often people in general. Hence, the bad mouthing of men and chivalry in the NW.

That was a long explanation to say that over the last few days I've noticed several men who have opened doors for me or other women and sometimes even gone out of their way to do so. So, men of the NW I apologize--there are a few who have redeemed you all. It appears NW chivalry is not dead; maybe it was just lying dormant for awhile. To those of you who are still practicing it you've encouraged me this week.

Lest everyone think . . .

2009-06-05T14:55:00.001-07:00

I'm ready to crawl in a hole and never come out, my life is not all doom and gloom as my previous melancholy post may lead you to believe.

Here are some of the sweet things in my life:

sitting and visiting with my parents in the shade of their lovely backyard when I got home last weekend
enjoying the ease of deepening friendships with the Gathering peeps (and watching Baby David grow)
making muffins
eating strawberries . . . i love this time of year when strawberries are cheap and prolific and fabulously ripe and sweet
having a very grown up conversation with my 12 year old neice about how she's going to spend her summer swimming and visiting with her friends
having my 10 year old nephew put a whoopee cushion on my chair and laugh uproariously when I sat on it
holding my new 2nd Cousin Justin last Sunday
sitting and visiting with my grandparents on a summer evening
hanging out with my sisters discussing the ins and outs of American Idol, going shopping, going to watch a ridiculous movie, and speculating how "That's Not My Name" by the Tings Tings came to be popular
Swimming in the evening in the outdoor pool at my apartment complex

Nothin' but ache.

2009-06-03T14:08:00.000-07:00

News Flash!!!

I don't like things I can't control:

--when people leave me out of conversations of which I think I have a right to be a part.
--when I get speeding tickets (and didn't know I was speeding).
--when my car gets broken into and people steal my money and my favorite lipstick.
--when people I care about decide they don't want to be a part of my life anymore.
--when my car breaks down and I'm stuck in the valley for an extra day.
--when my health goes haywire, especially after a year of trying REALLY hard to be healthier.

News Flash!!!

My heart is black:

--I want to demand to be part of the conversation of which I've been left out and force others to listen to me.
--I want to throw my speeding ticket back in the face of the Milwaukee's Police Department and throw a royal fit . . . you know, the whole crying, fist banging, yelling kind.
--I want to hurt the people who broke into my car--maybe with a hot fire poker stick, or a branding iron.
--I want to force the people I care about to care about me . . . or when that doesn't work I want to hurt them as much as they're hurting me, or maybe tie them up and hold them hostage.
--I want to kick my car as hard as I can when it breaks down and then throw yet again the before mentioned royal fit.
--I want to give up on taking care of my haywire health body and forget that it's the only one I've got . . . I want to be lazy and gluttonous.

*Sighhhhhhhh*

News Flash!!!

I need God's grace:

--He listens to me when no one else will.
--He keeps me safe from harm while I'm driving, even if I'm speeding.
--He provides the stuff to be stolen in the first place.
--He gives me people that love me and care about me.
--He gives me a car to drive that's pretty reliable overall.
--He gives me breathe in my body.

And I don't deserve any of it.

And I'm so ungrateful.

And even though I know these words are TRUTH my heart doesn't want to believe them. It wants to elbow it's way to the front of line and demand to be served its own way!

You are relegated to the back of the line heart . . . you bring me nothing but ache.

Silence . . .

2009-05-06T11:24:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the silence . . . some things going on in the life of Angela I'm just not ready to tell the world about yet . . . good things . . . but I'm keepin' 'em to myself for now.

The Holly & The Ivy & The Beach

2009-03-29T23:11:00.000-07:00

I know there is more to tell about the Louisiana trip, but I'm still processing that. So for now . . .

Today was a crazy long day.

First, I left my house at 8:30 am to head to West Linn to help eraticate holly from a City Park. (Seriously, I'm not normally this philanthropic!)

Here we are! My friends and I after we'd been pulling holly out of the ground for an hour and a half.

And here's the pile of Holly we chopped, pulled, and tore from the ground . . . well . . . really, us and about 55 other volunteers :)

Then, as you may know, I love to be spontaneous and so does my friend Alyssa. So, on our way across town to drop her at her apartment we decided to go to Target . . . in Sherwood. As we were leaving Target we realized it had become a sunny beautiful day . . . one that should not be wasted inside. That was all it took to convince us to turn around and head to the Coast.

Here's Alyssa and I at the Coast. It was crazy windy and cold and we were crazy grubby and dirty from frollicking in the forest all morning.

It was beautiful. But seriously, we were only near the water for about 15 minutes. The wind was so cold my fingers hurt everytime I took them out of my pockets for more than a few minutes.

We also discovered this rock, which looks suspiciously like Haystack rock but isn't. It's located near Pacific City, OR. Does anyone know the name of it? It you do, pass it on. Alyssa and I would like to know.

Lessons Learned on this fabulous adventure?

1. Holly is a prickly, viny, infiltrating, non-native plant to the woods of Oregon . . . and with enough girl power you can pull big ol' stumps of it out of the ground!

2. When you decide to head to the beach, you should look at a map. You're probably a lot further south then you thought you were.

3. There is a crazy big a** airplane hanger just south of Tillamook, OR. What is that about?

4. The Pirate's Cove restaurant in Garibaldi, OR has some fabulous clam chowder, fantastic seafood fettucine, and even better service. And the view is spectacular.

5. When you leave for the Coast at 4 pm, you DO NOT have enough time to make it all the way up the coast to Cannon Beach AND get back to Portland at a decent hour.

6. Spontaneity is good for the soul.

Gulf of Mexico Shrimp

2009-03-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

Are tasty treats. I ate shrimp every chance I had while in Louisiana this past week. It was good. Check out this slide show of our Shrimp Boil!

The Search for Buck

2009-02-24T10:25:00.000-08:00

Preface:

"Buck" is my friend Rea's ideal man. You'd have to ask her for all the details, but he's out there somewhere and she's looking for him :)

Last Saturday my friend Rea and I embarked on an adventure. We were at a retreat center out in the wilderness and decided to go on a hike to the Sandy River. It started out like any other ordinary hike.

Mossy trees along the path.

Great views.

Good company.

But then we started to wonder. Where is this river that's supposedly at the end of the path? We couldn't see it or hear it.

It was definitely a jaunt down to the River. Too bad this map doesn't show the elevation changes :)

Finally, after 45 minutes, the river. It was beautiful.

Here's the proof that I was really there :)

And it came complete with wildlife, such as this cute little bird taking a bath.

But, sadly, it didn't come with "Buck." So, we left the river and Rea was empty hearted.

As we left the rush of the river, the woods seemed eerily silent. While we were hiking through the quiet woods, we were startled to hear something rustling around on our right. As it turns out, it wasn't someone trying to murder us, as we first thought. Just this woodpecker trying to get some lunch.

Really, there's a woodpecker in that circle. Trust me.

At least that's what we told ourselves. But maybe it WAS sasquatch.

If you find yourself out and about in the wilderness anytime soon, keep your eye open for Buck. And if you happen upon him, let him know Rea's looking for him.

A Room with a View

2009-02-14T00:52:00.000-08:00

A Room with a View is a 1908 novel by English writer E.M. Forster, about a young woman in the repressed culture of Edwardian England. Set in Italy and England, the story is both a romance and a critique of English society at the beginning of the 20th century.

And, if you're looking for a review of this book or the 1985 movie . . . you've come to the wrong place.

The room and view I'm talking about is my bedroom and the beautiful view outside my window. We've had some crazy weather in the last couple of months and I've managed to capture it along with some of my favorite views of downtown Portland in the distance.

Right before Christmas we had some serious snow. It looked so beautiful and still in the dark.

The sun came out for a brief moment. The snow and ice were breathtaking.

Early one morning I woke up before the Sun and after experimenting with many settings on my camera, found the right one. This is my favorite view--the lights reflecting on the Columbia River and Downtown Portland bright in the distance. The picture doesn't really do it justice. I could stand at my window and look at this view for hours.

Highway Run Into the Midnight Sun . . .

2009-01-12T10:47:00.000-08:00

I almost always have a song in my head.

What this means, for those of you who don't experience said phenomenon, is that somewhere in the background of my mind a song is ALWAYS playing. And if I'm not careful and my mind is not otherwise occupied, I'll start singing it.

For example, if the radio is on in the car, I'll sing along to whatever song is on. If the radio isn't on, I'll sing along to the song in my head. Or, if there's no music on in the office, I'll catch myself (or worse, my coworkers will catch me) singing whatever song is in my head. Of course, if there is music on, I have to consciously stop myself from singing out loud to that music too.

On Saturday, a friend and I were discussing "Faithfully" by Journey. It's a great song. Journey is good stuff, if you like '80's hairbands with sappy lyrics, fantastic power ballads, and killer guitar solos. Somehow, during the course of the conversation the song got stuck in my head.

And it's been there ever since. I've tried listening to it over and over again. Sometimes that helps to get it out, but to no avail. It's still there.

The thing is, having Faithfully stuck in my head is actually a welcome relief.

It replaced a month long run of the theme song to Sesame Street.

Earworm

2009-01-12T10:11:00.000-08:00

Thanks, Kaira for the insight about getting songs stuck in my head. It's called Earworm--and it's a legitimate phenomenon. I'm not sure if I feel better or worse now that I know it has a real name. The name itself causes me a slight bit of discomfort because it brings to mind this Star Trek movie where Khan puts these worms . . . *shiver* . . . well, you know the one.

Ode to Bubble Tea

2009-01-11T21:13:00.000-08:00

I'm aware that I've sung the praises of Bubble Tea here before. I just can't stop myself from doing it again.

It's been months and months since I've had any and tonight while visiting Tea Chai Té, a tea bar on 23rd in Portland, OR, I unexpectedly found myself enjoying a delicious black milk tea with traditional tapioca pearls (or bubbles).

Here's a pic from their website. Evidently, I'm not the only one who likes it :)

4 Things for Jackie

2009-01-10T12:52:00.000-08:00

I started this on 10/19/08 at 5:19 pm . . . and remembered that I hadn't ever finished. So, here it is . . . better late than never!

4 things I was doing 10 years ago:

Sleeping only 2 hours a night trying to finish my final semester of graduate course work (ironically enough for a degree I never finished)

Eating lunch with Mary Beth at the Mall Deli.

Living in the Quincy House . . . oh how I loved that house--but NOT the camel crickets that eventually took over the basement *shiver*

Ministering alongside a fantastic team of men and women on the CrossQuest Staff.

4 things on my to-do list for today:

Load and unload the Dishwasher

Update my blog

Send Jess her Pepperoni

40 minutes on the ellyptical machine and maybe some weights.

4 jobs that I have had:

Farm Hand/Tree Planter

Phone answerer/order taker at Pizza Pipeline in Pullman, WA

Tailor in residence at The Buckle in Pittsburg, KS

Adjunct English Professor

4 movies I have watched more than once:

Clue

Top Gun

Princess Bride

So I Married An Axe Murderer

4 favorite albums:

Tapestry--Carole King

Slippery When Wet--Bon Jovi

Along the Road--Margaret Becker, Christine Dente, Susan Ashton

Twilight Soundtrack

4 places I have lived:

Zillah, Washington

Pullman, Washington

PIttsburg, Kansas

Vancouver, Washington

4 places I've been:

Maui, Hawaii--the Summer of 1993 . . . no rock fever here :)

Binalonan, Philippines--spent the summer pf 1995 sleeping in a choir loft under a mosquito net and was never late for church!

Shenyang, China--the summer of 1996 were I was consistently awakened in the wee hours of the morning by the North Koreans playing soccer in the hallway outside my door in the Foreign Student Dorm

Playa Del Carmen, Mexico--July of 2003? an hour south of Cancun, it's all the great things about the Yucatan Pennisula and not all the tourist hype . . . oh, there's enough hype, just not ALL of it

4 places I want to visit:

Nepal and the sooner the better!

New York, New York

Norway

Kansas, even though I was just there.

4 TV shows I watch via DVD:

Good Eats

Good Eats

Sorry, there aren't any more. That's really it.

Okay, okay, I might catch part of an episode of Smallville or Supernatural or Gilmore Girls on DVD, but that's only because my roommates watching them . . . and I'm walking through the living room.

4 of my favorite meals:

Taco Salad made from my mother's recipe . . . not how she's changed it up in recent years, but the old school way she made it when we were kids.

Zucchini and Corn

Homemade pizza with spinach, feta cheese and sundried tomatos

Steak--a thick, good cut of meat, rubbed down with olive oil and seasoned with salt, pepper and maybe a little rosemary--grilled about 5 or 6 minutes on each side so that it moos at me a little

4 things you may not know about me:

Once, while playing a game in college, I convinced a whole room of people that my family's motor home fell into a crevice in the earth caused by a tornado/earthquake while we were on vacation in North Dakota (loosely based on a true story).

My whole life, until recently, I've had a secret desire to be a truck driver.

In high school I wrote a screenplay parody of Bill & Ted's Most Excellent Adventure (The name of which I'll withhold to protect the star cast members) where two girls went back in time via a refrigerator sized present to gather personalities for their church youth group's Christmas Presentation. And we filmed it. And showed it to the whole church. It was pretty ridiculous.

I took a rifle shooting class for a PE credit in college and got an "A" . . . so . . . don't get on my bad side :)

And I'll copy Jackie who copied Meredith and ask you, you and you to answer the questions too (but only if you want to).

Journey of the Magi

2008-12-05T17:48:00.000-08:00

This is one of my favorite poems. It produces a longing in me. To experience in my own life something so real that I "should be glad of another death." Hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Or at least a little.

Journey of the Magi by T.S. Eliot

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times when we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities dirty and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wineskins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

An 18 Year Old Love Affair

2008-11-23T20:29:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went to the NKOTB "The Block" Concert. It was actually a decent show. They either are good business men themselves and/or have an excellent marketing team. The show was well put together and not too cheesy. It had just the right balance of old school and new school. (And I wasn't even a fan back in the day.)

Their opening act, Lady Gaga . . . well, I don't even know what to say about her. She definitely has some heavy european influences, is very dramatic, and likes bats. Click here http://www.ladygaga.com/ if you want to catch more of her.

Natasha Bedingfield more than made up for the first act by being her awesome and sweet self. She was so nice. And she said it best as she dedicated one of her songs to the whole arena full of women. She said she thought the NKOTB Reunion tour was sweet because it is the culmination of an 18 year old love affair. What a thoughtful and poignant point of view, and so true. I saw a whole stadium full of grown women turn into giggly, giddy 13 year olds the instant NKOTB came out on stage.

It is an interesting situation to be in a room full of people so like yourself. The whole room was full of women, ages ranging from 28ish to 33ish, with a sprinkling of begruding husbands or boyfriends mixed in. We were all different shapes, sizes, and colors, but there for one purpose--to see New Kids On The Block. There is a solidarity felt when one is in such a homogeneous environment. And it was kind of awesome to watch . . . thousands of women singing the lines to songs they probably didn't even realize they still knew.

Overall, I give it a thumbs up. Good job, NKOTB, on the comeback. And kuddos for being so forward thinking to become the original "boy band" so long ago . . . I'm not sure anyone's given you all the credit you deserve for that.

Boo part Two

2008-10-23T23:29:00.000-07:00

Evidently, I'm not the only one who thinks it smells like fries. I'm not sure what the "no one dies!" part means, but this is a sweatshirt that you can buy at Cafepress.

Boo for BioDiesel

2008-10-13T19:59:00.000-07:00

Before you get too riled up, hear me out.

I understand the benefits of Biodiesel. I understand that it's a viable alternative to traditional fossel fuels.

But it is not my friend.

Today, as many days, I left work around 6 pm. At 5 pm I ate a small snack because I started to get hungry. By 6 o'clock I was getting hungry again and decided it was time to go home. I thought about going through a drive through, but decided I didn't need to spend the money nor did I have room in my "caloric budget" for the calories--instead I made a plan to stop by Fred Meyer on my way home. So, I got straight on the freeway and headed north.

But as I drove, I found my stomach grumbling more and more. At first I couldn't identify the problem, but soon I realized the yummy smell of french fries was wafting through the interior of my car. I'm thinking, do I have left over french fries in the floor board of my car? (not unheard of) Are they getting heated up? No, my car was actually pretty clean--no left over fast food here. And there are no restaurants near I-5 in this part of town. Where is that smell coming from? My hunger is beginning to conjure up images of a giant scary Burger King figure chasing my car down the interstate! And then I spot it. The dreaded bumper-sticker. It's on the car in front of me. I've seen it before . . . "This car powered by Biodiesel."

I'm trying to treat my body and my pocketbook better these days: trying to lose a little weight and not to eat out so much, but at that moment I was having trouble focusing . How's a girl supposed to be successful when she can't even drive down the road without her senses being bombarded by grease? It's like driving through the midway at the county fair--visions of funnel cake and elephant ears danced through my head.

Thank goodness I've encountered this phenomenon before and I've a learned a couple of things about how to resist the King's attacks. I forced myself to imagine the yummy sun-dried tomato, feta, and spinach pizza I was going to make when I got home. And somehow, by grace, I made it to the grocery store, and then home to my house without taking any detours through a drive-thru.

Not every day is so successful.

So, hats off to you environmentally friendly types who drive a biodiesel powered vehicle--I'm glad you're doing your part to reduce our need for fossel fuels. But my plea goes out to you biodiesel technology creating scientists--if you can make a car run on leftover grease, can't we do something about the smell?

Go Cougs!

2008-10-11T13:02:00.000-07:00

This is how one should dress on a beautiful, crisp, fall day in the Pacific NW!

Motivated by fear of being eaten by a Lion

2008-10-10T12:51:00.000-07:00

When I was in kindergarten I must have been a little pill, or at least that's the conclusion I've come to. How, you may ask, did I come to this conclusion? Well, my kindergarten teacher purchased a book for me from the Scholastic Book Fair; a book I came to know as "I Don't Care Pierre." Basically, Pierre's response to everything is "I don't care." And eventually, at the end of the book, he gets eaten by a lion because he doesn't care.

I know. It's a little startling, isn't it?

In fact I had several recurring dreams as a little girl and young woman, and one of them stemmed from this book, I'm pretty sure. My whole family was at my house for a gathering and a pack of lions came and ate everyone except my Aunt Gail and me. We were smart enough to climb up on kitchen chairs and this somehow protected us from the roaring beasts. My dream always ended with Gail and I standing on our respective chairs across the room from each other with the lions walking in circles below us. Somehow in my dream those chairs seemed really, really tall.

To be fair, I guess that crazy recurring dream wasn't all the book's fault. I also frequently dreamt that a giant fire-breathing crab would come over the hills south of the Valley and come straight for our house, leaving a charred, blackened, empty path in it's wake. I know it sounds silly now, but I always woke up terrified as a child.

Anybody got a Joseph in their back pocket who wants to interpret for me? I can't promise fame and fortune, but I've got more dreams :)

Recently, while perusing a Scholastic Book Fair flyer, my mind was flooded with grammar school memories, including Pierre. But it wasn't until I was taking a stupid interview on Facebook (more on the interview in a sec) that I decided to google the book. I found out the name is actually Pierre: A Cautionary Tale in 5 chapters and a Prologue by Maurice Sendak. Some of you may be familiar with one of his more popular books, Where the Wild Things Are. In my research I found out that Pierre was originally published as part of set called The Nutshell Library, which included Alligators All Around, Chicken Soup with Rice, Pierre, and One Was Johnny. I've ordered a couple of used copies of Pierre . . . we'll see if any of them are the same printing as the one I received in the late 1970's. It's looked kind of like this, but paperback.

This week one of my Facebook friends sent me a request to take an interview. (This morning I passed the interview request on to many of you.) No offense to anyone who sends me requests, but I usually ignore about 90% of them (and I won't be offended if you ignore mine); however, I was bored and I decided to check this interview out. Basically I just answered questions . . . and more questions . . . and more questions. Many of the questions are goofy and easy to answer, but some are particularly poignant and surprisingly insightful.

For me, question #144 was: What motivates you?

I couldn't come up with an answer. Welp, that's enough of that quiz, I thought, and I moved on to my lil' green space (an equally great way to waste time). But it bugged me. Shouldn't it be easy to figure out what motivates me? And everytime I opened Facebook, the question taunted me the in the back of my mind . . . hahahaha, "What motivates you, Angela?"

Finally, on Thursday night, after a great time of fellowship and worship at The Gathering, I came home feeling pretty introspective and opened my computer with the intention of updating my blog and maybe posting some vacation pictures (which I still haven't done).

But, I'll just check Facebook real quick before I start blogging.

I couldn't help it. I opened Facebook and then the interview application and just stared at that question. "What motivates you?" I could think of all the things I wanted to say: Jesus, a personal sense of satisfaction, pleasing my parents, wanting to make the world a better place, etc. But I knew none of them would be true. And then I tried to trick myself. "Well, just put one of them down. It doesn't really matter how you answer a stupid question on a stupid Facebook interview. It doesn't have to be the truth."

But in a moment of transparency with myself I realized that the answer often is, “Fear of what will happen if I don’t do something.” For example, Why do I brush my teeth? I'm afraid I'll get gingivitis if I don't. Why do I drive the speed limit (most of the time)? I'm afraid I'll get a speeding ticket if I don't. Why am I honest? I'm afraid I'll be caught if I'm not. Why am I working to lose weight? Because I'm afraid of the health problems that will ensue if I don't. Why do I go to work? Because I'm afraid of being fired if I don't. Do you hear all the negativity here? Suddenly I remembered Pierre. And it hit me: I am motivated by the fear of being eaten by a lion. And evidently, this has been a lifelong habit, if at the tender age of 5 or 6 my kindergarten teacher already saw the pattern.

I've always been a procrastinator and now I think I kind of understand why.

If I'm motivating myself with fear of consequences, I'm not stirred to complete the task until the consequences are looming so large in my mind I can't avoid them (hence all the papers finished at the crack of dawn in college). I need to change the way I talk to myself. Why do I brush my teeth? Because I like the way my smile looks when my teeth are clean and white. Why do I drive the speed limit? Because it's a safe and responsible way to behave (okay, maybe that one's a stretch). Why am I honest? Because Jesus says it's the best way to live and I know from personal experience that it is. Why am I working to lose weight? Because I care about myself and want to treat my body well. Why do I go to work? Because I enjoy the sense of personal satisfaction when I work hard and do my job to the best of my ability.

I'm probably over-simplifying this, but I'm a bit overwhelmed with how this motivation issue affects all areas of my life.

I am motivated by the fear of being eaten by a lion. Thanks, Maurice Sendak.

6.

2008-09-23T13:29:00.000-07:00

6. No sixth excuse—writer’s packing for her trip to Kansas!

In fact, there aren’t any more excuses. Writer has a bad habit of not finishing what she starts!

7.

2008-09-22T13:11:00.000-07:00

7. My dog ate my homework, or I guess, rather, my blog post.

Well, actually, I don't have a dog. But I do have a cat and a rooster. Technically speaking, he's not my rooster. I'm not sure who he belongs to, but he does live in the parking lot of my building and sometimes hangs out by the front of my car.

My cat is another story. She is mine and as big as a small dog. If she had an affinity for eating paper she could put away my homework and yours too. Her name is Sagwa, named after the children's cartoon, thanks to my neice and nephew. Her favorite activites include sleeping on her blanket, eating, pushing Beckie and I off the couch, chasing Beckie's cat Max through the house, and sprawling in a very unladylike fashion in the middle of the livingroom floor.

This has nothing to do with why I haven't posted to my blog this summer, except that it's an example of the kind of tangents that often distract me from the task at hand.

Addendum to 7.

2008-09-22T13:10:00.000-07:00

Beckie hasn't seen the rooster in several days and thinks he may have become dinner for the parking lot pavers. Yikes!! I'm gonna miss his fluffy little head. Or a less dramatic possibility is that he's hiding somewhere because of the rain. We'll hope for the best and keep you posted.

8.

2008-09-21T13:30:00.000-07:00

8. Trips to the valley filled up every spare weekend--no time to blog! Maybe not every spare weekend, but I have made lots of trips over the mountains this spring and summer. Here are a few of the highlights.

Every year on Mother's Day weekend, Zillah, WA celebrates Community Days! And my family goes to the annual Lion's Club breakfast. "One egg please."

After the breakfast, comes the parade . . .

and after the parade comes one of the smallest little carnivals you've ever seen. But when you're under the age of ten, all you really need is a really tall slide!

The next time I went to the Valley was in June for a candle party my friend was having. I had just finished a quilt for her little girl and was able to give it to her at the party.

Here is her precious baby girl surrounded by her new "princess" quilt.

And here are the yummy candles I got at the party.

Gold Canyon Candles are fantastic!

July brought a bittersweet trip to the Valley for the 4th of July weekend and the "Thrill'ah in Zillah." As I began my 3 hour trip home, my sister called me to tell me that a dear friend had died, and then had the audacity to tell me not to wreck through my tears! I usually enjoy the beautiful drive but on this day it was juxtaposed by mourning the loss of our friend and grieving for the wife and children he left behind.

The 3 hours were also therapeutic and by the time I got to the Valley I felt ready to join my family and the celebration.

But first, my sister and I had fun putting together a new table we purchased for my Dad for father's day! Who says girls aren't good at spatial reasoning?

The fun continued Friday afternoon by showing our friends some of the fun sights around Zillah. "Tip me over and pour me out!"

Friday and Saturday evening found us around the campfire perfecting our smore making abilities!

And Sunday morning brought worship, celebration, and tears!

I didn't make it home in August, but the second weekend in September I travelled home to see my Grandparents and celebrate the recent marriage of a cousin.

My grandma and I sat out on their porch after breakfast chatting the morning away. Here we are . . . learning about the finer points of taking a self portrait from a flattering angle.

And I'm not sure what that is behind my head, but for the record I am not wearing some kind of "bun covering."

9.

2008-09-20T02:28:00.000-07:00

9. I've been so busy updating my Facebook picture albums that I forgot to blog.

But, in the words of Jessica's friend Andrea, Facebook isn't "a real blog?" But, oh that's right. I do have a "real blog"; however, it's not speaking to me right now (see "Blog Star" post). Or rather, it's not speaking for me right now.

10.

2008-09-19T01:02:00.000-07:00

10. Neighborhood hooligans broke in and stole my computer! How am I supposed to keep up with my posts when I don't have a computer? . . . er, wait, that happened in November of 2007.

However, I was recently reminded of the break-in while posting pictures on Facebook about moving.

This picture shows our old house the way it looked before we started tearing it apart and packing it up to move. Notice the afore mentioned computer in the foreground. Which brings me back to the hooligans, since they were a major part of our reasoning for moving.

Since Jess moved out, Beckie and I decided we needed to downsize and vacate our downward spiraling neighborhood. In July 2008 we moved into a great little apartment complex with a more central location and a fantastic view.

It's been an adjustment cramming our lives into 980 square feet (our previous home was 1600 sf), but we're making it work.

Those of you who've been privy to my preparedness (or lack thereof) during other moves would have been impressed at how ready and on the ball I was. Note the above picture taken several days before the actual move. It's amazing how much less hectic moving is when you are only working one job.

While the move was stressfulf for Beckie and me, I think it was more stressful for our cats. During the actual moving day, they were locked in Jessica's old room together. We think they bonded.

This is as close as they ever get to each other. They never shared the sliding glass door at our old house!

Here's Beckie's cat, Max. As soon as we put this rug down, he plopped right down in the middle of it. "Finally, something that reminds me of home" he seemed to say.

My cat, Sagwa, paced around the new apartment for a couple of days until we uncovered a chair that had been in my room at the other house. In this case, familiarity breeds a good nap!

Top Ten Excuses for Not Blogging

2008-09-19T01:01:00.000-07:00

Hello, my name is Angela and I am a blog neglector.

My blogging goal for 2008 was to publish at least one post a month and I was doing okay . . . until summer :( Since the beginning of June I haven't posted once. Shame on me.

Here are my top 10 excuses for not posting a blog in the last 2 1/2 months.

So what? I'm still a blog star!

2008-09-18T23:45:00.000-07:00

(Singing heard earlier today coming from Angela's computer.)

"Na na na na na na na

na na na na na na

Na na na na na na na

na na na na na na"

"Guess I just lost my author

I don't know where she went.

So I'm gonna write my own post,

Use a few words to vent."

"I've gotta brand new attitude,

And I know I'll do alright.

Don't need her punctuation,

Or stories about her life!"

"So, So What?

I'm still a blog star!

I'll write my own posts,

And I don't need her!"

"And guess what?

I'm having more fun,

And now that we're done,

I'm gonna show her . . . "

(CLICK)

(Angela shuts her computer.)

Venting about Fording the River

2008-06-03T01:18:00.000-07:00

Fording the River: A recipe for turning a 15 minute drive into 50.

1. Work 12 miles from where you live and have to cross a major river to get there and back.

2. Arrange a huge wreck, so large it completely shuts down 4 miles of the I-5 corridor for several hours.

3. Don't put out any signs telling drivers about viable alternate routes or lengths of wait times.

4. Don't have any local radio stations explain the situation or guide drivers to alternate routes.

Tonight I worked late.

Tomorrow is one of our busiest days of the summer and several of our operations staff members were staying late to prepare. I decided to stay with them and get caught up on some work. It was a productive and fun evening. Around 9:15 someone brought in pizza and we all took a break to eat and chat.

Around 10 pm people started leaving. The last of us walked out the door at 11 pm (I don't have to be back until 10 am, so it's not that bad). I walked a couple of blocks to my car and got on the road about 11:10 pm. I hopped on I-5, expecting it to be pretty empty in the middle of the night. It was . . . For about 3 miles and then I could see that traffic ahead was totally stopped. I was in the far left lane and had to fenagle my way across three lanes of traffic, but managed to get off at the last exit before I got trapped with the stopped cars.

This is my normal commute to and from work.

As I crossed over the freeway I looked north and saw lots of emrgency vehicle flashing lights. I figured there had been a wreck. At the next possible entrance I could see it was also blocked by police, so I took surface streets as far as I could before I knew I would have to get on I-5 to cross the Columbia River. But when I tried to get on I-5 at Delta Park, the last possible exit/entrance before water, I was dismayed to see the same flashing lights.

Now I was annoyed. How is it that something happened, significant enough to block off 4 miles of freeway, and O-DOT had posted no signs, no readerboards to tell me, the driver, that the Interstate Bridge, my link to my homeland, was completely blocked off and I could not get home that way? Because now I had wasted 15 minutes driving north northwest on surface streets when I could have been driving northeast and been to I-205 by then.

This was my convoluted commute home last night.

I'm also disappointed in one of my favorite radio stations. They are usually really good at giving traffic reports, especially when there is something unusual going on. But not one peep came over their airways: Not during the 20 more minutes of surface streets to get from Delta Park across town to I-205 nor even during the 15 minutes it took me to get home once I got on I-205.

I do realize there are worse things than taking an extra 35 minutes to ford the river and get home. In fact, some of you dear friends are dealing with hurts and situations far greater than my little rant. I just think that in today's age of technological saavy, something could have been done to avoid the extra 35 minutes, not to mention the extra miles and lower in-town mpg I put on my car--gas is $4.00 a gallon.

Thanks for reading anyway. Typing has helped me unwind the energy coil that was created on my 50 minute journey . . . I might actually be able to go to sleep now :)

Yep, I think I drifted off there . . . Good . . . Good night!

Pop Rocks and Fireworks!

2008-05-31T00:18:00.000-07:00

I love spontaneous Friday evenings. I was ready to come home from work and spend the evening doing laundry and/or reading a good book, but my friend texted me on the way home to see if I wanted to go to Delta Cafe for dinner. And so began an evening full of fun and adventure.

Right now I'm sitting on my couch eating strawberry Pop Rocks!

These particular Pop Rocks were acquired at the beginning of my spontaneous evening. Sami and I tried to find something to buy at Fred Meyer to write a check for cash and avoid outrageous ATM fees. They are so worth the .50 cents I paid for them!

I love Pop Rocks! I love to feel them shoot off my tongue onto my teeth or the roof of my mouth, or to open my mouth and hear them popping around like Rice Krispys in a bowl of milk . . . it's like a mini fireworks show and you get to "taste the explosion."

After we left Fred Meyer we headed south to the Delta Cafe were we enjoyed the down home southern cooking, good sweet tea, and eclectic atmosphere for a reasonable price. I am a little horse from talking over the din of voices and music, but it's a small price to pay for good conversation with a fabulous friend.

And a trip to Delta just wouldn't be the same without walking a couple of blocks down the street to Bubble Bubble Tea. Bubble Tea is not for the faint of heart--a milky, chewy, lovely Taiwanese concoction that is probably an acquired taste, unless you're me, who fell in love with it the first time I ever tried it. However, tonight our experience at Bubble Bubble Tea was less than spectacular thanks to the slightly harried and odd cashier/bubble tea maker. Long story short, we'd only been there about 20 minutes when he cleared his throat and uncertainly bit out, "I'm closing my doors in 5 minutes" to a restaurant full of customers (most of whom had come in after us). We sat in stunned silence and looked at him for about 10 seconds before conversations continued as though he hadn't said anything. He responded by explaining himself to the air, "I've gotta close 10 minutes early tonight . . . I've been slammed . . . I've got . . . ." He trailed off and just looked around the room. We looked at the posted hours on the window, which clearly said they closed at 11 pm on Fridays (it was 9:45 pm) and giggled to ourselves that he must have had a rough day and be at his wits end. What else could cause such a break down?

But, his melt down was our gain. As we headed north on McLoughlin Blvd. we found ourselves driving straight toward the Fireworks show at the Rose Festival's Waterfront Village. And thanks to Sami's quick thinking and driving, instead of getting on I-5 North we pulled over on the side of the Morrison Bridge with many other onlookers and stood right under a spectacular fireworks show! It was beautiful and loud. I could feel each boom vibrating my chest as if I was in the front row at a rock concert.

Here's a picture of last year's Fireworks show . . . the bridge with the blueish-purple lights on it is the Morrison: the very bridge where we stood and watched this year's show. And off to the right you can see the bright lights of the Rose Festival Carnival shining out from behind the Tom McCall Waterfront Park trees, and above that the incredible Portland skyline. This picture captures everything I love about downtown Portland. Rose Festival season is Portland at it's best.

By the way, I was just reading the ingredients of Pop Rocks: 1) Sugar 2) Lactose (milk sugar) . . . Wait, what? Lactose? Hugh? I guess lactose intolerant people gotta be careful about the Pop Rock intake. Who knew?

P.S. I also bought Fun Dip . . . haven't cracked it open yet, but when I do I'm sure it'll be worth all .33 cents I paid for it and a successful end to the spontaneity of this Friday evening :)

The Birthday that keeps going and going and going!

2008-04-04T16:10:00.000-07:00

The octopus on the top of Greek Cuisina in Portland, OR.

My 35th birthday was exactly a week ago, today. It started out like any other Thursday . . . going to work. I don't even think I saw my roommates in the morning. But then, around noon Jess came to work and brought me some beautiful peachy colored roses and cookies to share with the office. And it only got better from there.

My roommates and I gathered with some friends from church to go to dinner at Greek Cuisina in downtown Portland. It was really good food and even better company.

My yummy roasted lamb all rolled up in philodough with great veggies.

Kalamari is one of my favorite things! But this picture was really to gross out the other people at our table :)

Beckie and I at dinner.

Pretty flowers at our table.

Beckie, Me, and Lori.

David, Kailina, and Jess

After dinner we headed over to Rimska's Korska Koffee House. It was an interesting and fun experience, as the pics show. We were seated at this round table, one of the largest they have. We ordered desserts and hot tea or cocoa. The restaurant itself is in an old house and if you don't know what you're looking for you'll probably miss it. The decorating is eclectic and fun.

My roomies and me at Rimsky's. I'm drinking my Earl Grey and waiting for my frozen Lemon Pie, which never came :(

Our creepy rotating table . . . until we realized it has a motor we couldn't figure out why our food kept floating away.

Kailina, who'd been to Rimsky's before, told us we all needed to check out the restroom.

This is the picture that greets you ask you open the door. The lady of shatolietpaper?

And this is the unsettling scene in the rest of the bathroom. Did I mention it was creepy?

And this is the funky ceiling. Not so much creepy as kind of cool.

Did I say my Frozen Lemon Pie never came? Well, actually, when we asked the waitress to remove it from the bill because I didn't get it, she was horrified!

She apologized profusely for forgetting the Birthday girl's dessert and gave it to me for free.

Here's her apology via the ticket. It originally said, "Happy middle of Winter Birthday." After she realized she forgot my dessert, she changed it to "Happy middle of the Winter Bad Waitress Birthday."

And that was the end of the Thursday night festivities, but my sister Christi came over on Friday night and we celebrated again! We went to dinner at McMenamins on the Columbia and then on to the Hazell Dell Bowling Alley for Karaoke, which came highly recommended by my friend Sami. It was fun and a little crazy. As you can probably tell from the pictures, the Bowling Alley Lounge is a bit of a dive. But it was a friendly crowd of regulars that all turned their head to look at us when we walked in.

We started off the night with Christi and I singing "Total Eclipse of the Heart." And then nothing for a long time. The Karaoke guy kept trying to get us up there and finally he made all of us get up and sing a song with him. This seemed to do the trick.

Soon after the first group sing, Beckie got up and rocked Sugerland's "Baby Girl."

Then Jess knocked out the Dixie Chick's "Ready to Run."

And Christi got down to Carole King's "I Feel the Earth Move."

Beckie and our friend Beth perusing the Karaoke books.

Beth (who was a voice major in college) wowed us all with "God Bless the USA" . . . way better than the girl on American Idol!

Me singing Carly Simon's "You're so Vain" . . . who knew there's a line in that song that says "you're with some underworld spy". What?

And my birthday weekend continued when Christi and I flew out for Las Vegas the next day . . . but that is a subject for another blog post :)

Nothing Romantic about Schnitzel & Spatzle

2008-02-22T14:08:00.000-08:00

Single Awareness Day, or SAD, as it is more commonly referred to , is celebrated by many on February 14th. I prefer not to refer to it by it's initials or acronym, SAD, because it's not a sad day for me--I'm not sad about being single or about getting to celebrate Valentine's Day with some of my best friends.

In the words of my roommate Jessica, "A single girl can ROCK this holiday too."

For the third year in a row, my roommates, myself, and our good friends Beth & Rea all went out to eat together for Single Awareness Day. Last year we struck out in search of the ultimate "Hole in the Wall" and found it at the corner of 46th & Woodstock (see last year's post for details). The year before that we ended up at a little Chinese restaurant, almost by accident, that was flooded with suburbianites waiting for take out. This year Rea's request was that it not be any place romantic or rather any place that could conjour up romantic memories, so we settled on Gustav's German Pub & Grill in Clackamas, OR.

We were all in good spirits as we arrived toting our little valentines gifts and/or cards. Some of us enjoyed the complentary cider in the lobby as we waited to be seated. After a short wait we were shown to our seats and started the evening off with some great cheese fondue! We laughed at each other's stories and enjoyed the ease of company that long friendship brings.

It was a learning experience for us. I don't think any of us really knew exactly what "schnitzel" and "spatzle" were before that evening, but we found out they were good! And Rea was right, German food really isn't the least bit romantic. Our booth was high backed and cozy in a good family meal kinda way, and this feeling was spurred on by the meat and potatoes compositions on our plates. Our waiter was friendly, attentive, and didn't seem to mind our frequent questions about the menu or our lengthy stay in his section.

We finished off the evening by exchanging the small gifts we'd brought along for each other as well as sharing a fantastic piece of strawberry pizza . . . that's what I said, strawberry pizza. How German it was, I'm not sure, but it was good! And finally we ventured out to the front of the restaurant to take some pictures. What we didn't know was that what had been a mild, day had turned into a freezing cold night. So in between snaps of the flash, our teeth chattered and we all wished we'd worn more layers. Good thing you can't tell in our pics :)

What a bittersweet memory! As Jessica prepares to move, our three year tradition has come to an end. We'll probably gather to celebrate Single Awareness Day next year, but without all 5 of us, it just won't be the same.

A synopsis of life lately.

2007-07-16T14:11:00.000-07:00

This summer has been busy and yet I've taken time to "Breathe." It's been filled with old favorites (such as the Grandma Fredrickson blanket featured in this picture) and new favorites such as Marrakesh, Tad's Chicken 'n Dumplings, and hiking in the Columbia Gorge.

On June 15th I went home for the weekend to celebrate my Mom's Birthday and also Father's day. On Saturday Christi took Jared & Cassadie to the Zillah Public Library to get their own Library cards--which caused a flood of fond memories as I waited outside the little building. It was in that tiny library that I first fell in love with detective and mystery novels--I think I read every book they got in the "Saint" series as well as Sherlock Holmes and others.

One friday afternoon late in June I went to an early movie with my friend Bethany and afterward we went to AppleBees to get 1/2 price appetizers. We actually missed the 1/2 price appetizers, but when we came out of the restaurant, the sky was beautiful. I'm sure the other restaurant patrons thought I was crazy as I stood in the parking lot taking pics of the sky.

For the Fourth of July, my sister Christi and her family came over to join us for the second year in a row. We went down to the Fort Vancouver Celebration and had a great time. It was very hot, but we took plenty of beverages and snacks. Last year we struggled to get all our gear to the park, but this year my smart brother-in-law Alex brought the kids' wagon and we just piled everything in there. It was a good time.

After my sister's family left on July 5th, my parents came on July 6th for my sister Beckie's 30th B-day. We went to this great restaurant called Tad's Chicken 'N Dumplings. We sat in the dining room pictured above . . . it overlooks the Sandy river and all those windows fold back to make it an open air seating balcony. And they serve their Chicken 'N Dumplins in this great big goblet looking dish with the biggest spoon I've ever seen. We had a lot fun . . . for a further report of Beckie's birthday festivities, you should check out her blog. It's listed under "Sites & Blogs I read."

The next day, Mom, Dad, & I headed down to Sweethome, OR for the wedding of our good friend Tim Wyatt! It was a fun little roadtrip and the wedding was sweet. Congrats Tim & Megan.

And what have I been doing with the rest of my time? Working, of course. This is me on a break, sitting at my desk at work, trying to take a decent picture of myself. Summer is a busy season at work and so I've been working hard to keep up. But my job is fun . . . I really like it. I have yet to go camping this summer which is a bit of a disappointment, but there have been plenty of other exciting adventures to fill the gap.

Hey there, Delilah!

2007-07-02T13:55:00.000-07:00

My friends Sami, Naomi, and I went to the beach in honor of Sami's Birthday. We made a day of it, leaving around 10:30 am and driving the long, but interesting way to the Coast and eventually ending up in Seaside, Oregon where we spent a couple of hours on the beach having a picnic, drinking sweet tea, and trying very hard to play frisbee in the wind. We got lots of advice from people walking by about how best to throw the frisbee in the strong wind.

Then we moved on down the beach to Ecola State Park in Cannon Beach, Oregon. Ecola is beautiful and we spent lots of time hiking around and just sitting at a picnic table eating muffins and drinking more sweet tea--enjoying the beauty that God has given us. It was a rare sunny day on the Oregon coast. We felt blessed.

Here are some of the highlights.

Sami & Naomi with Cannon Beach coastline in the background.

Random guy surfing or boogy boarding . . . hard to tell.

Sami, Naomi, and I trying to take a picture of us and the beautiful ocean behind us.

Sami, Naomi, & I--much better with someone else taking the picture.

While we were trying to take this pic, a cute little family further down the beach offered to take a pic of us if we would take a pic of them. While we were waiting for their family to gather the father nonchalantly told us their 3rd son (there were 4 total) was going to climb over the top of this large rock (at least 10 feet tall, maybe 15) at any minute. Imagine our surprise when their barefoot 3 year old climbed to the top of this big rock and walked over to the edge to wave at us, much to his mother's distress.

We finished the day with cherry limeades and burgers from the only Sonic around on our way back into town! What a lovely day with two of my favorite people:) The theme of the day was "Hey, there Delilah" by the Plain White T's. It's a sweet song. If you've never heard it you can go to http://www.plainwhitets.com/ and give it a listen. We heard it on every station we turned to that day, so about 10 times within 10 hours or so.

Does every path that goes up lead to picnic tables?

2007-06-17T22:32:00.000-07:00

At a recent conference I was challenged to be obedient to the 4th commandment, "Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy."--Exodus 20:8-11 That might sound a little conservative and old fashioned . . . and a little common sense. Maybe it is.

As I sat on a bench looking out at Cannon Beach after the conference was over , things seemed clear and the task before me not so difficult. (How could it seem hard to bask in the Rest of the Lord when you are looking out at this beautiful beach?)

The thing that I liked about the "Breathe" sabbath as it was presented to us is that they weren't advocating legalism or more "religion". They were advocating freedom--freedom to spend a whole day, 24 hours, without creating, without being productive--just as God modeled for us in the creation of the world. But none of that makes it any easier to obey.

I've been trying it. It's been hard.

I think what I've learned is that I'm a narcissist. I think too much of myself. If I don't do my part of take care of my life, it will fall apart. What an arrogant thing to think--really, my attitude is telling God, "Why don't you just let me do it? You're just going to mess it up." As if I'm thinking, "If I take one day off, God isn't going to be able to handle to details of my life. Everything will spin out of control. I won't get my laundry done or I won't make enough money."

The irony is, my life spins out of control when I'm in charge, not when God's in charge.

The first time I tried this Sabbath keeping my roommates and I went to Moulton Falls--a small county park about 45 minutes from our house. The falls weren't spectacular, but they were pretty. We spent a least an hour taking pics and hiking through the woods on trails that we found around the park. We were actually looking for a second falls that I thought should exist according to the map I'd seen on the internet. But we didn't have the map. All we kept finding were picnic tables (which as you can see from the map, is really I'll you'll find).

I sat down on one of the picnic tables to catch my breath and asked in a purposefully forlourn voice, "Do all paths that go up only lead to picnic tables?" We are all started laughing. And then I asked, "If so, what kind of spiritual implication does that have?" We were just having fun and making the best of these trails that we kept hoping would lead us to another waterfall, but it really made me think. Picnic tables make me think if camping and fun and feasting together. So, really, in a way, the spiritual path that leads up does lead to picnic tables. Revelation 7:16 says, "Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst . . . . We'll be feasting forever with God in heaven.

Why don't emergency rooms have valet parking?

2007-06-11T09:52:00.000-07:00

I was reminded last night just how funny the comedian Brian Regan is. My birthday present was a ticket to see Brian Regan live and on April 12th Jessica, Beckie, and I journeyed up to Tacoma, WA. Up until this point I had only heard Brian on a CD and watched a short clip on Beckie's I-pod.

He is so much funnier in person.

By the time we left the theater, my sides hurt from laughing for over an hour. If you get a chance to see him, I'd take it. And the best part is that he's clean. His jokes are hilarious, but I haven't heard any curse words escape his lips on stage and his subject matter is all PG as well.

I was reminded of this fun little trip last night when I got home and my roommate was watching him on Comedy Central. She graciously rewound it for us (the beauty of the DVR) and again we laughed. It was even funnier to see his facial expressions that we hadn't been able to see at the theater where we watched him live.

Hat's off to Brian Regan for good clean, side-splitting humor. Here's the link to his web-site if you want to check him out: http://www.brianregan.com/index.html.

Here's a little comic strip that takes off from one of Brian Regan's most famous jokes:

Notes on Young Grandparents

2007-05-20T15:27:00.000-07:00

By the time I got to college, I realized that my family was young--my parents are both the eldest children of parents who married early in life (not unusual for their generation). In addition, my parents got married fairly young (also not unusual for their generation in the area they lived in) and the result is that I grew up with young grandparents. Actually, until I was about 10 it often seemed like I had three sets of parents instead of Grandparents. At the time I didn't always appreciated the relationship I had with my Grandparents, but in hind-sight I realize how special it is.

Almost every summer I went to spend at least a week with my Mother's parents. It was such an important tradition for me that the first summer I had my driver's license one of the things I was most excited about was getting to drive to my Grandparent's house all by myself--it was an hour away and my first big road trip without any parent along. As you can see from this picture, my love for traveling started early!

Sometime around 13 or 14 years old I took a trip across country with my Father's parents in their big 'ole Cadillac. It was so cool because it had cigarette lighters everywhere and Grandma and Grandpa had this little TV that plugged into them so I could watch TV as we drove. We drove to North Dakota and went through Glacier National Park on the way.

I'm blessed to be part of two fabulous families.

I love that my Dad's side of the family is big and rambunctious and fun--full of mixed up generations where nieces and nephews are older than their aunts and uncles. Great Job! Grandma and Grandpa B on raising up a terrific family.

I love that my Mom's side of the family is smaller and more intimate and still fun--and here too there is a little generation drama: my youngest cousins are close to the same ages as my sister's children. Great Job! Grandma and Grandpa F on raising up a fantastic family.

What brought on this contemplation of my young Grandparents? I've been guilty on more than one occasion of sharing the fun fact that my Mother's Mother was only 37 when I was born . I've recently been corrected on this fun fact--she in fact was 36, just a couple of months shy of 37 when I was born. Whenever I share this fact I get the same response: What? 37? She was so young. But this statement really hasn't hit home until just a few days ago when I realized that I am 34. My Grandmother was only 2 years older than I am right now when she was a Grandmother. Wow!!! I am approaching an age were, under different circumstances, I could have been a Grandmother. But I'm young. I don't feel old enough to be a Grandmother. And I bet they didn't feel old enough to be grandparents either--they still had their own children living at home for the first years of my life. In fact, my Dad's youngest sisters are only 7 and 9 years older than me and 15 years younger than my Dad. No wonder I had three sets of parents--they weren't really Grandparents yet.

So here's to my young Grandparents: Lloyd, Phyllis, Wayne, & Dorothy! I'm so privileged to know you and am blessed to be part the incredible families you have worked so hard to nuture and support. I am happy to have been born at the beginning of the grandchildren line up and I cherish the memories of time spent with you camping, cleaning, making lefsa, sewing, crocheting, traveling, picking up bales of hay, and the list goes on.

Long Time No Blog

2007-05-19T17:00:00.000-07:00

So it's been a long time . . . I've been willing to tell ya, I've been wanting to tell ya, I've been waiting to tell ya . . . what's been going on in my life. My excuse? I have none. Except maybe that I work too much or my life is so jet set that I just don't have time to sit down and type for a few minutes and post a few pics. Well, I probably do work too much . . . which is a lifelong habit I'm trying to break (thanks, Dad & Mom, for instilling such a great work ethic), but I do have time to sit down and type a few words. So, I'm going to be a marathon blogger today in order to make up for lost time. So much has happened in the last two months. Of course, for those of you who read my sister's blog (click on Beckie's Blog on the list of Sites & Blogs I visit) most of what I'm catching up on will be old news, but for those that don't read hers--let me give you a bit of advice, save the best for last--read my version first, then read hers.

It seems with me the urge to write is feast or famine--here's the feast:) I'm enjoying it while it lasts. (BTW--grand prize for anyone who knows where the reference in the first line of the posting comes from).

The Mirage of Maturity

2007-05-19T15:15:00.000-07:00

This year I turned 34. There's nothing special about 34. It's not an acceptable mid-life crisis year, your life insurance premium doesn't jump a bracket--in summation, your life doesn't suddenly get better or worse.

But sometimes I seem to be having an out of body experience--I look at myself in the mirror and think, "yep, she sure looks 34," but I don't feel like I thought I would feel at 34. I don't have it all together like I thought other people around me did when they were 34. This is a phenomen I've noticed as I get older--you're never where you think you're going to be when you get there.

That's a little confusing.

Here's an example. I remember walking to school when I was 9 or 10 thinking about what my life was going to be like in the year 2000. I was in awe of the fact that I would be 27 in the year 2000. I remember thinking that I would surely be married and have a career and children and you get the picture--everything Barbie promised me I could have with her pink suit and her little Barbie Briefcase. Of course, my life hasn't been like that at all, which I'm okay with. I'm on a great adventure that has led me all over the world and currently has me living in Southwest Washington. I love my life most days. But at 27, 28, 29 or now 34, I still haven't "got it all together." I still don't know all the answers. And now I'm looking at friends and family in their 40's & 50's and thinking, "Man, they sure have arrived. I hope I've arrived when I get to their age." But I know, due to this phenomenon, I won't think I'll have arrived when I get there.

It's like those mirages you see when you're driving down an asphault road on a hot day--it looks like there's water over the road in the distance. Until you get there. And you realize that there never was water over the road. It was the heat waves from the sun playing tricks on your eyes (at least that's what I think it is, but I'm no scientist). When your 10 looking at 27 the Mirage of Maturity makes you think 27 is it--you'll be satisfied and happy and you'll have life figured out. But when you get to 27, you realize it was a mirage. While you may be satisfied and happy, you won't have life figured out and there will be just as much to learn as there was at 10. So, you look toward 34 and again you see the water over the road and think, "I'll have it together by then." But now I've reached 34 and again there is no water over the road.

I don't mean to sound discontent because I'm not, but there are things about my life I'd like to change or improve. Which is why I think I continue to look toward the Mirage, continue to look toward those older than me and let myself think, "They surely have it all together." Because it gives me hope, to move one day closer to 40, one day closer to figuring out life's secrets, one day closer to a new, improved Ang. Proverbs 29:18 says, "Where there is no vision the people cast off restraint (or are discouraged), but blessed is he who keeps the law" (ESV). The Mirage of Maturity is the vision that keeps me from getting discouraged and helps keep me focused on the possiblities of what my life can be, spurring me on toward a future that's as bright or brighter than today.

Rosemary Garlic Chicken Jerky

2007-05-19T13:37:00.000-07:00

So my mother has opened this shop in Zillah, WA called "Kate's Kitchen: Meals for Families on the Go". It's a place where you can come and make one meal or 12. All the ingredients are there for you, chopped up, ready to measure out and put in the freezable container. Then the choice is yours--you can take them home and freeze them for another day, or you can take them home and make them that night. It's a great invention for those of us who are too busy to shop and chop, as my Mom's website says (www.katesmealsonthego.com).

Last time Beckie and I went home, we brought back 4 meals (two Mom donated, two we purchased). The first one we ate was the Island Pork Chops. The flavor of the sauce was great--a little spicy, a little sweet. Unfortunately, I didn't have the presence of mind to take a picture of that meal.

However, last night we had some friends over for dinner and it was so simple. We just popped the Rosemary Garlic Chicken in the oven--no chopping, no shopping, no measuring--and let it cook covered for just shy of two hours (exact time was hard to tell due to an accidental oven being turned off mis-hap) and then uncovered it for the last 10 minutes. I confess that when I uncovered the chicken and potatoes, I was skeptical. The steam escaping from the pan smelled fantastic, but the chicken looked white and pasty, and definitely unflavorful; however, after 10 minutes of being uncovered the chicken browned right up and the meal got rave reviews from all partakers. Both the chicken and the potatoes tasted wonderful.

Mom also includes a side of bread with her meals--and so we took the frozen breadsticks out of the freezer, put them on a cookie sheet, brushed a little melted butter on them and placed them in the oven along with the chicken for the last 10 minutes to brown them up. What a wonderful addition to such a simple, but tasty and elegant meal.

The picture was taken today, when I warmed up the last piece of chicken in the microwave with a baked potato. It was just as good the second time, even though I left it in the microwave a little too long and turned it into Rosemary Garlic Chicken jerky.

Okay, so the end of the commercial is near, but one last thing. If you live anywhere near Zillah, WA (and if you do, you know who you are) then I'd suggest dropping by Kate's Kitchen and picking up a meal or two. It's easy, it's fun, and it's delicious.

I serve a risen Savior, He's in the World Today; I know that He is living, whatever men may say.

2007-04-10T18:00:00.000-07:00

Every year I celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus Christ-or at least I've been celebrating it since I was at least 3. That's apparently when my parents began attending church regularly. Previous to that year I'm pretty sure I just hunted Easter eggs. And the Easter Egg dying and hunting didn't end at the age of three, but a new dynamic was added--I began to learn what Easter is all about in the Christian tradition. Of course, this is all speculation and recreation from vague memories.

Some memorable Easters include, but are not limited to:

Getting baptized on Easter Sunday after becoming a believer 3 months prior (1981).
Hunting Eggs at Aunt Judy & Uncle Allan's house next to Barbee's (I'm guessing 1984 or 85 based on the dress I was wearing in the pictures)
The Tribute to the Soup Nazi (1995 or 1996--can't remember for sure)--This particular Easter came about because there were several of us who couldn't or didn't go home for Easter weekend while I was at Wazzu. So, we had 4 or 5 people make big pots of soup and ended up with about 25 or 30 students eating lunch at my house. It was a great afternoon!
Huebner & Fortsythe Easters!!! (1997-2001) The years I lived in Kansas coming back the NW was out of the question for Easter. So, spending it with my Family away from Family, the Huebners and the Forsythe's was out of this world. Thanks for always making me feel at home!
Yakima Valley Easters!!! (2002-2004) Being able to spend Easter with my Family after being away so many years, priceless:)

And that brings us to this year, 2007, Easter at the Rose Garden. This year, my roommates and I decided not to go home for Easter since our presence had already been requested at a "Welcome Home from Arizona, Grandma & Grandpa Fredrickson" party the two weekends after Easter. And while we live close enough to the Valley to drive home for the weekend, it makes for a long weekend and I don't usually want to go home more than once a month or every 6 weeks.

So, instead we decided to attend the service of a local church. We've attended this church off and on over the last couple of years--mostly on Saturday evenings. While we don't attend there regularly, it is a nice place to worship in a way that supplements our regular worship at the churches we normally attend. Usually the church has multiple services during the week, but the church decided they all wanted to worship together on Easter.

So, they rented the Rose Garden.

For those of you who aren't from around here, it's where are NBA Basketball Team, The Portland Trailblazers, play. I'm not sure of the exact number of people it holds, but it was pretty full. According to the local newspapers and the blog of the church's pastor, there were well over 14,000 people in attendance at the service and over 700 people baptized. It was an interesting experience.

I loved getting ready in the morning with the girls, listing to a local Christian radio station that played Keith Green's the "The Easter Song" every hour. I had a surreal moment as we sat at a stop light near our house. We were singing along with Keith Green at the top of our lungs (windows rolled up) and I had the sudden urge to roll them down. I wanted to shout, He is Risen!! For a moment I felt an overwhelming urge to run into the middle of the intersection and get the attention of the many cars passing through on their way to Fat Dave's for breakfast, Home Depot for fencing supplies, or maybe a nursery in search of the perfect landscaping project. We were celebrating an event that dramatically influenced the history of our World forever. And more importantly, I was celebrating the fact that the God of the Universe is alive and well and cares about me more than I can imagine. I wanted everyone to know how overwhelmed with love my heart was at that moment.

And then we sat in traffic for almost an hour. What we hadn't thought of was that all 14,000+ people would be trying to get off on the same exit at exactly the same moment. But, thanks to the Christian Radio station we where cheered by "The Easter Song" once an hour (yes, that's a hint of sarcasm) and we were the teeniest bit late . . . but then, so was everyone else.

We left the Rose Garden a little after 1:00 pm, when we realized that the baptisms were scheduled to go on until 5:00 pm if need be, and headed south to the OC (Oregon City, that is). We met Beth and Rea at Beth's apartment for a fabulous homemade Easter Dinner. After dinner we visited for a while until Rea brought out her guitar. We listened to a few song's she's written and then we began to worship. It's so sweet to sing praises to Jesus in a laidback, chummy environment like that.

Sushi & Bubble Tea

2007-03-30T19:00:00.000-07:00

My Birthday was on a Tuesday this year. I should have gone to my Managerial Accounting class, but instead, I called my professor and became an annoying non-traditional students who said, "I know that your class is important and I hope this doesn't hurt your feelings. I really enjoying going, but it's my birthday and I don't want to come tonight. Are we going to have a quiz, because if we are I'll come, but if not, I'm not coming." I guess in that moment, I thought honesty would be the best policy.

Fortunately for me, my teacher was gracious and told me we weren't having a quiz, so I didn't go. Instead, I came home and my roommates decided to take me out. Jess said, "Ang, it's your birthday, so you pick the place. We'll go wherever you want to go." "Wherever I want to go?" I'm sure I squealed out of excitment. My sister Beckie said she knew in that instant that I would want to go to Sushiland, which is pretty incredible because I hadn't even thought of Sushi yet, but ultimately that is where I asked to go.

We drove 20 minutes across town to Fisher's Landing and the closest Sushiland restaurant. Sushiland is unusual, even for sushi, because the dishes go by you on a conveyor belt and you choose the plates you want to eat. There is a menu with pictures so you know what everything is and the plates are color coded so you know how much it costs. It's actually a great way to try something new because the cost of each plate ranges from $1 to $3. So, if you don't like it, it's okay because you haven't made a big investment.

Here are some of my favorites:

After Sushiland we went to Bubble Bubble Tea, a local chain of Bubble or Pearl Tea shops. It's my new favorite thing. Bubble or Pearl Tea is tea with Tapioca balls in the bottom. Or if you don't like Tapioca you can get flavored jellies in the bottom of your tea. You drink the drink through a very fat straw so that you suck up the bubbles or jellies while you are drinking.

A word of caution: If you have texture issues, this is not the drink for you.

However, if you like black or green tea, especially with milk in it since Bubble Tea is traditionally made with milk, and you like Tapioca, chances are you'll like this. My favorite is just the traditional Bubble Bubble Tea with black milk tea and Tapioca Bubbles. At most of stores around here you can also get a wide variety of fruit flavored black and green teas as well as slushies, etc. There are so many choices it sort of makes your head spin.

As you can see from the pictures, they seal the tea into your cup with this great machine which I think is half the fun of drinking the drink. On my birthday, I branched out a little and got Mango Black Tea with Bubbles. Unfortunately, you can't see the bubbles because the tea is so dark, but it was really good:) I had a great Birthday--thanks Bec and Jess for being willing to try new experiences with me on my birthday! I loved experiencing conveyor belt sushi with you. All except for the hairy peas--those were not fun, but that's Beckie's story to tell.

Tattoos . . . and other edgy things

2007-03-19T16:53:00.000-07:00

Last May I got my nose pierced. I'd been thinking about it for months and I finally just went out and got it done at a little shop in Seaside, OR (where I happened to be when the urge struck). I ran into this guy who had multiple piercings on his ears and face, and I figured who better to ask so I asked him where the best place to get pierced was. He pointed me to the Nine Lives Tattoo and Body Piercing shop just down the street. I had a great experience at their shop--the girl who pierced my nose, Jenny I think her name was, was really good and I only felt a pinch. It really only felt like I'd plucked a deep eyebrow hair--you know, when you pluck the kind that makes your nose itch and your eyes water. It took several months to heal, but now my nose ring rarely bothers me, it looks cute, and I'm completely pleased.

This good experience has led me to consider more seriously the next step in the Urbanization-Northwestification (completely made up term) of myself.

I've been thinking long and hard about--getting a tattoo. Until recently, I've known where I want it and about what size I want it, even possible colors, but no idea exactly what I want it to look like. I try not to make these kind of decisions lightly (that usually works out badly) , so if I'm going to have something that's on me "forever and ever" as the 13 year old of some good friends reminded me last week, I want it to mean something. But what? I thought about a Cross or even a Triquetra (symbolizing the Trinity), such as the one shown on my blog with the circle of God's eternal love running through it. But somehow, those symbols seem a little trite, or overdone, or maybe just plain watered down in today's society. So I vetoed them. But finally, last week, I was reading in the 4th and 5th chapters of Revelation and (pun completely intended) I had a revelation. I know what I want my tattoo to look like . . . at least in my mind's eye I know what I want it to look like--one of the four creatures hovering around the throne of God and never ceasing to say, "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord, God, Almighty; Who was, and is, and is to come."

I've looked on line for a good artist's rendering of the creatures described there, hovering over the throne of God, never ceasing to praise Him, but I've not been able to find anything that comes close to what I picture in my mind. I guess I'm not in any hurry . . . it's taken me well over a year to decide exactly what I want and now that I know, I'm sure it will take me close to that long to find an artist and save up the money to pay for it. So in the mean time, I'm doing some research and I think I'm beginning to learn the difference between a poor tattoo and a good one--I want a good tattoo artist. I've been watching Miami Ink on TLC and I even bought a tattoo magazine last night at Wal-Mart, much to the chagrin of Jessie, my roommate. There were so many cool tattoos in the magazine--it mostly focused on these incredible works of art that have taken months and months and hours and hours to create. I was inspired and feel like I see more clearly what it is that I want--take for example this peacock: it's incredibly beautiful. I want my tattoo to be in this style of tattoo, which I think is Japanese, but I don't want it to be nearly that big. While this tattoo takes up this whole girl's back, for now, at least, I just want my tattoo to be right in the center of my back, about 1/3 of the way down from my neck, color, and about 7 inches in diameter.

So, I'll continue to keep you posted on my journey toward being a skin art collector. Let me know what you think and definitely let me know if you have any good tattoo artists hiding up your sleeve:)

Single by Natasha Bedingfield

2007-02-20T22:40:00.000-08:00

There's always discussion in our house about being single. It makes sense. We're all single. I don't pretend to know what my roommates are thinking, but for myself, Natasha Bedingfield's "Single" says almost exactly how I feel. I am happy and content in my singleness . . . I feel a freedom, maybe the same freedom Paul felt as he encouraged the Corinthians to remain single in chapter 7 of 1st Corinthians. I could say more, but I'll let the words to the song speak for me instead.

"Single" by Natasha Bedingfield

Ah yeah that's right
All you single people out there
This is for you

I'm not waitin' around for a man to save me
(Cos I'm happy where I am)
Don't depend on a guy to validate me
(No no)
I don't need to be anyone's baby
(Is that so hard to understand?)
No I don't need another half to make me whole

Make your move if you want doesn't mean I will or won't
I'm free to make my mind up you either got it or you don't

[Chorus:]
This is my current single status
My declaration of independence
There's no way I'm tradin' places
Right now a star's in the ascendant

I'm single
(Right now)
That's how I wanna be
I'm single
(Right now)
That's how I wanna be

Ah yeah
Uh Huh
that's right

Don't need to be on somebody's arm to look good
(I like who I am)
I'm not saying I don't wanna fall in love 'cos I would
I'm not gonna get hooked up just 'cos you say I should
(Can't romance on demand)
I'm gonna wait so I'm sorry if you misunderstood

[Chorus]

Everything in it's right time everything in it's right place
I know I'll settle down one day
But 'til then I like it this way it's my way
Eh I like it this way

Make your move if you want doesn't mean I will or won't
I'm free to make my mind up you either got it or you don't
'Til then I'm single

This is my current single status
My declaration of independence
There's no way I'm tradin' places
Right now a star's in the ascendant

Second Annual Single Awareness Day Dinner

2007-02-15T23:42:00.000-08:00

So yesterday was the 2nd Annual Single Awareness Day Dinner!

The 1st Annual Single Awareness Day Dinner just sort of happened. We all decided we didn't want to sit home on Valentine's Day: instead we met up in a little Chinese restaurant in Clackamas called Wan Lung. The food was great; however, the whole time we were there 15 to 20 people were waiting for to go orders, standing about 5 feet from us in a little 6 foot by 6 foot waiting area--some waited over an hour--and it felt a little like we were in a fish bowl.

As Rea put it, it's hard to enjoy your meal when you have people starring at your food like vultures. I'm sure they didn't mean to be starring. I mean, I'd be hungry too if I had to wait over an hour for Chinese take out.

So this year we decided to put a little more thought into our choice of restaurant. This proved to be a little more difficult than we anticipated; however, after many phone calls we finally settled on the Delta Cafe, located on Woodstock and about 46th, I think, in South Portland. The food was fantastic--between the 5 of us we covered every traditional southern dish: chicken and dumplings, real homemade macaroni and cheese, cauliflower casserole, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and red eye gravy, pulled pork barbecue, gumbo, hush puppies, cornbread cake, fried okra, and more that I can't remember. And most of us washed it all down with 32oz of sweet tea served in a good ole' canning jar! If this has made you hungry and you decide to try the Delta Cafe for yourself, take note that they are only open for dinner.

Of course, all our thought did not help us choose a restaurant that takes reservations, so this time we were the ones waiting, crammed into the small waiting area with 13 parties ahead of us when we arrived at about 6:45 pm. We waited for about 45 minutes but we were expecting the wait and made the best of it. We discussed the eclectic decor, the huge pecan pie and chocolate cake on the desert table right next to us, and the unique diorama on the wall next to my roommate: it depicted the cafe itself; however, all the people had skulls for heads. Mostly, we just tried not to salivate at the tangy smell of barbecue filling the air and tried not to stare at the plates of the tables we could see through the open door or the plates being prepared right in front of us. Did I mention that the waiting area is pretty much in the kitchen?

All said, it was a lovely evening with friends and good food. What more can you want out of life?

batter my heart, three-person'd God

2007-01-23T16:36:00.000-08:00

Holy Sonnet XIV: Batter My Heart, Three Person'd God

Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you
As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow mee,'and bend
Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new.
I, like an usurpt towne, to'another due,
Labour to'admit you, but Oh, to no end,
Reason your viceroy in mee, mee should defend,
But is captiv'd, and proves weake or untrue.
Yet dearely'I love you,'and would be loved faine,
But am betroth'd unto your enemie:
Divorce mee,'untie, or breake that knot againe;
Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I
Except you'enthrall mee, never shall be free,
Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee.

John Donne, written in 1618