Bangkok here I come

So, i haven't mentioned on here yet because I haven't been so certain about it (and if you read this blog, you'll see that my plans change quicker than most...), but I have taken a job teaching/consulting for English in Bangkok. I leave on August 24th. I'll be working in the office at a university research center called the ABAC Poll (of Assumption University). Those of you who know my friend/college roomate Jenni Goad-Piotrowski, it's the same university she worked at back in 2003/04. I will be living in what is called "The ABAC Hotel". I think it's kind of like a dorm with a half kitchen in the rooms, but we'll see.

While I'm there, I might have a bangkok blog. I'll let you know.

There might be a party for me on the 19th. I'm not sure where or when yet. Details about that are coming...

Hope you readers are well,
NJ

How to Eat Like a Director (Boh. Imp. Vol. IX)

"Set your mind before the mirror of eternity
and everything will work." ~Franz Wright


I've done it. I've directed a children's show at Park Players. It's called How to Eat Like A Child and it opens tonight. It's made up of lessons for scenes: "How to Wait," "How to Behave at School," "How to Beg for a Dog," etc. It features songs that ask: "Why is no the only thing a parent can express?" and claim: "There ought to be as many ways of saying, 'Yes.'" But best of all, it features 29 hilarious kids that were surprisingly easy-going. I had a great time and the parents are pleased with what they saw at the final dress rehearsal last night. I'm a little sad to let it go, but not really all that sad. I think acting attaches me more to a show than directing... And I've found that directing isn't as stressful as I had anticipated. Maybe because I've had the attitude: "I gave that kid the direction three or four times now. If he doesn't want to listen, it's him that looks bad, not me."

I've also started my job singing around Greenfield Village. Thoughts and reactions to this job are being recorded in what I hope will be a lit nonfiction essay that's currently called "The Henry Ford." I will say this, my faltering patriotism is recieved there with open arms...

I'm also booked to direct a short play for the Pandora's Box Fest this year. Anyone have a name of a good female playwright whose written a short? I'm going to check if there's any short Beth Henleys. We'll see.

I have read all the Harry Potters that are out. I must say that the last one let me down in many ways (not in the obvious ways that the readers of this book might think,) but full opinions of the series will be given after I've read the 7th.

Adios for now.

Poem 06/28/06

the world's in flame
or so it seems
i hear cannons and popcorn
two neighborhoods away
i see red and blew
dust and smoke crawls
over pines and maples
and oaks in bloom
surrounding my subdivision

this is not war, this is
celebration, the grand finale now
mimics the more exuberant display
over windsor, hart plaza, for fearless
crowds who've dared to cross
the city line.
canada and states unite
to salute the flags that stream behind
jets above the river tonight
explosives equal freedom

we are free
mysterious creation
the sliver of pink haze moon
still glows. you can find it
somehow still more spectacular

Adventures in Bohemian Impoverishment Vol. 8

With Sir John Garrett at the moment. He's waiting for me to fill the "bubble pool" with a hose. It's not even 9am yet, so I am biding time with the old blog.

I feel like every time I update, I have something completely different going on as the last time. Right now I'm trying to get a job teaching overseas and the best candidate is Bangkok, Thailand. But that's the future (November). I'll go into what's going on now.

I completed my second rehearsal with Greenfield Village, and delighfully, my voice doesn't feel that bad (as I had expected.) I am singing too low for my range as an alto. I'm trying not to talk too much today and I had lots of water yesterday, but i feel, like I said, pretty good. Last week at this time I could barely talk. But the voice isn't like a muscle--at least getting lower... It is like a muscle when you sing high (I'm told that you can exercise to make your voice higher) but going too low could do some damage. Thats what my voice teacher said, and the man teaching me the music.

I just cast my first play as a director... I'm directing a childrens show at Park Players called "How to Eat Like A Child." The auditions went great--I've got Mike Fiedler on board as the music director and it's hard to go wrong there. We cast 30 kids. Holy Moses. But some of them were so cute at the auditions that I turned bright red sitting "behind the table." Is there a book somewhere about blushing? It's a weird phenomenon. It can't be helped and it can be triggered by so many things. One kid got up and sang "My Girl" and changed the words a little... I wish I could remember what he said, but he did a little sway as he sang. And another girl did Missy Elliots rap in Ciera's song about moving your body. I nearly fell out of my chair. At the first audition, a girl sang supersonic, which I had no idea that 7 year olds knew about. What can I say, but this show is going to be a trip up the old staircase.

Manny and the Mirror practice starts on Saturday. We're doing one performance for the Michigan Theater Festival.

Anyone have anything ELSE for me to do?

The Elmores

Alec and I have set up a music page on myspace.

myspace.com/theelmores

Please come give us a listen.

We're starting to hit the illustrious metro-detroit open-mic scene. Tonight we're going to the New Way Bar in Ferndale to play at the open mic hosted by the Gypsy Strings...

Cento:

A poem pieced from other poems.

Neruda, Cummings and F. Wright:

Que ves con ojos ciegos?
Soy el tigre
(and God have mercy on my monster)

No one is a stranger, this whole world is your home.
Entre los heros pasero
By that bum who's everyone
Quienes son los que sufren?
No se, pero son mios
I'm leaving here, I still don't know.

Let's all be thankful as hell
In time of lilacs who proclaim
Let beauty touch a blunder
Dive for dreams
Deja el viento corra
Because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt
(And consequently care to kiss the sky)

I shake hands with the sky
Riete de la noche.

Adventures in Bohemian Impoverishment VII.

Seven counting the catastrophe. No time to dilly dally... here's what's new:

--went on a fast for 6 days (instead of 10...) no longer a smoker, sugar or caffeine addict. feels good. pretty good. miss the smokes.

--just got back from house sitting for four cats in AA.

--Alec and i had our first "Elmores" recording session at Uncle Fred Freers... (Timmy's dad). It went OKAY.

--Reading Harry Potter--on #4. help-me-i'm-obsessed.

--got a poem published in a very small publication. black book press. Look them up on myspace. Submit to them! they publish just about everyone new.

--watching the pistons. hurray. pretending not to be hurt by the dead-wings.

--had a brunch with joel's family sunday. it went very well, they are cool people.

--did an i was just kidding show today. went well.

--also recorded sleepy hollow for hannan house.

listen to our Christmas Carol. My grandma is on it.

--driving legal for the first time since... september? since stanley died.

Sorry to be so brief.

Memory Lane

I did something I thought I'd never do... I added to my old geocities cite today. How about that? Want the link?

www.geocities.com/njlimabean

For those of you who don't know what that is, it's Jesus is in Ann Arbor Too. It's a collection of spiritual essays, called "thoughts" I wrote while in school. I noticed that it still gets a few hits a week (on some tracker they have) so I thought maybe I should update it.

If you aren't into my Jesus-side, I don't suggest you look at that. But if you are, there's some nice stuff on there, I think.

The latest is number 24, under the thoughts link, called "Relationships."

Enjoy
(or not)

Adventures in Bohemian Catastrophe

There's a line in the play that goes "You look feverish. You might have pinkeye."

Ladies and gentleman of the observation seats, I might have pinkeye.

I am at Marjorie's apt. She's doing laundry for her trip to Florida next week (she gets Spring Breaks). It's good to see her. I just wish I were more pleasent this weekend because, as frustrating as it is, I seem to be a magnet for chaos. Two weeks ago it was the phone and the dead van battery. This week, it's my left eye.

It turned pink on Thursday. I thought it might be infected but had no time until today (Saturday) to hit the doctors.
(My schedule:
THURS--8am-1130 John Garrett, Noon John to Vitales, 330pm take John home from South Lyon, 4pm buy Erinn a Bday gift, 4:30pm Head out to Brighton to meet carpool to Lansing, 8pm show.
FRI--8am-4pm Vitales, 5pm Meet Marjorie, take shower, 6pm go out for dinner, 8pm show
TODAY--Doctors.

Last night I went out with Marjorie and her boyfriend, Peter, after the show. My eye was killing me. In the bathroom at her apt, late at night, I folded the bottom left eyelid down and found a black speck in my eye. That made me think it wasn't pinkeye. An eyelash! No. Pretty soon I had Marjorie and Peter hovering over my eye with a q-tip. They couldn't get it. I went to bed.

Today I went to Sparrow Hospital in Lansing. I went to the Fast-Track Emergency section were I watched a screaming baby wait for his name to be called while blood gushed from a gash in his head. Ew. After he went "behind that door" that leads to emergency care, I finished the Alchemist. A nice book. Weird, but nice. It made my wonder why I couldn't just will the speck out of my eye (perhaps because I had a plank in the other eye?) Finally, they called my name to the desk. I had a long epic about my insurance coverage . My dad said I was covered but it took the guy a few minutes to find me on the Blue Cross database. He found me. Hurray. I was called and then, I too, got to go behind the door.

A bubbly nurse helped me. I described to her the speck I had in my eye. She asked the last time I got my Tetnis shot (sp?). I had no idea but after I talked to my mom, we figured it was probably HS. That was too long ago, so I got one today. I asked the lady if it was going to affect my performance that night. "Oh no, not at all," she said. "May make your arm sore." She poked me in my left arm, hoping it'd use it less in the swing dance. It was the best shot experience I ever had. Didn't feel a thing!

If you are sensitive to Eye issues, skip the next section.

Then the doctor (assistant) came in. He numbed my eye and then I told him where the speck was. He made me sit in one of those eye magnifiers where the optomotrists (sp?) shine a blinding light into one's eye. He found the speck! But wait, it was embedded in my flesh! He said skin grew over it. He told me he would try to remove it with a very tiny needle, but preferred that I saw an eye doctor. I told him if he could remove it, please do because Lord knows I have no time to see an eye doctor and it hurt! So he numbed it some more and scraped at the spot for a while and then said "You know, I'm not sure that that's a foreign body..." He said he would give me an antibiotic and then if it's still hurting in a few days, see an eye doctor.

I wanted to die.

So, I took the prescription to Meijer. I was dizzy--lack of food. Finally I found, in that world of a store, the pharmacy. While I waited for the prescription to be filled, I filled my arms with toiletries that I needed. I love buying soap and q-tips and make-up (sigh, I love buying make-up...) so that put me in a better mood. But that mood was quickly demolished when the pharmacist didn't fill my prescription because she couldn't find my name on the Blue Cross Account. She kept asking me if I was sure I had the right card. I called my dad and he gave me the right numbers. It still didn't show up. She called Blue Cross. They said I wasn't covered. Without the insurance, the EYE DROPS would cost $99.00. I tearfully took the prescription back, put my makeup and soap back on the shelf and waltzed out of the store.

I called my dad and he had a solution for me to get it filled at the drug store where he works. I will pick the eye drops up tomorrow night.

Meanwhile, I found food at Marjories (leftovers from last night) and wanted to have a good cry. But I waited to cry until I got to the Boarshead, after I screwed up the swing dance because I was dizzy. The Sailor told me that it was getting harder and harder to dance with me. I went up into the bathroom and cried. When I came out, Kelly found me and I related to her about my day and she said the reason I was a wreck probably had to do with the shot I had. She said those things can make you loopy. That explained why I fell during the dance call. I felt loopy, all right, like I had no muscles. My arm felt great, but so much for the shot having no effect on me.

I did a long warm up, forced myself to breathe, and did the show. It's amazing what ailments performance pressure will cure for the endurance of the show... but the eye started actingup again after I got out of costume.

We had a fine audience. Tonight, Sailor Steve and I were graced with our own standing ovation, initiated by a tiny man with a glowing beard in the front row. I guess things usually turn out okay...

I am just starting to wonder why this stuff happens to me. Does it happen to everyone? I'm convinced that they do, from the bee stings and infections I've had at campouts, to car accidents and other car troubles, to almost losing my keys 100x a week, to constantly double-booking myself. Is it a spiritual thing? Or a tetnis shot? I guess I'll never really know.

Adventures in Bohemian Impoverishment Vol V

Hello from Lansing. Lots has happened since the last post. We open Mooglow tonight, after a week of audience-attended dress-rehearsals and performances. We have had a standing ovation every night from these audiences. I was amused to find, today in a local metro-times-esque publication I read while dining at a Mexican restaurant, that Wednesday's "Dress Rehearsal" was a theater party put on by the housing commision here in Lansing, well advertised... It cost $30 to attend (20 of which was tax-deductable) and there was fancy food there. Hell if I knew... Oh well. That night was a full-house. A house full of laughers. Very encouraging.

So, we closed Anne Frank. It was an odd year to be in the show; it just seemed to be full of complaints and it never really set in. Maybe part of it for me was the fact that it was sandwiched in between Moonglow runs. But I'm happy to be back with the Moonglow cast, even if I have to travel a lot on the road to do the show. I've been staying at Marjorie's place on the weekends, but during the week I carpool (we have performances Weds-Sun) because I have day jobs.

Today I felt inspired, during my day-long break, to look up parks around here and go for a nice walk. I found the Fenner Nature Center, which was a lot like walking around Rotary Park in Livonia (though with less graffiti--how does one spell that word?), but nice all the same. It was similar to Rotary in the way that I would walk for a while until I hit civilization and then turn around and walk in another direction. It was pretty cold and cloudy, but nice to have time to just think and notice things. I noticed these weird spikey cocoons hanging from the bare branches of a tree near a farmhouse. They were hollow white things, with openings at the bottoms that seemed to be for two creatures to break through. I also found a totem pole that was replicated by a fourteen year old boy (replicated from Native Americans from the Pacific Northwest and then donated to Lansing). There are weird and wonderful things to notice, I was reminded today. If only I could remember to keep my eye out for them or to take advantage of opportunities to seek them out.

Last weekend my brother(s) were in town for the East Lansing Film Festival. I saw 21 carbs (again) and enjoyed it (again). I also saw a disturbing documentary called "Fat Boy" about dieting. I think it broke something in me, because I've noticed that I've wanted to be healthier since I saw it. I think I actually have been a bit healthier, if only a tad. The next evening, I saw some movie that I can't remember the name of--Marty worked on it. It was a suspense film that turned out to be a little on the goofy side. But after that film, I saw Charlie Don't Shake at a party for the festival participants, and they were fantastic. I'm looking forward to seeing them play again.

The notable occurance of the week was, after my cell-phone past-away (still wondering why this happened), I woke up on Saturday morning, got in my van to go to rehearsal, and noticed that the battery was dead because I left the dome-light on for nine hours. Bravo for me. So I was stuck in Marjorie's subdivision with no phone and no friends (marj was in Grand Rapids). I ended up using the phone in the welcome center here, and getting a hold of Sailor Steve, who picked me up and later gave the car a jump. I bought him dinner in gratitude. I'm happy that I didn't flip out too much at being stranded.

My overall sentiment has been heavy, lately. It seems that there are a lot of people going through hard times. For one of them, I wrote this poem:

Will you go crazy? You can
Paint your pain; streaks
Across the wall of your composure.

Will you go crazy? You can
Scream your frustration, a sword
Slicing the flesh of your disappointment.

Will you go crazy? You can
Cry, alone or exposed, waves
Along the beach of your betrayal.

Will you go crazy? You can
Sing, washed in wonder, buckled
In your rolling haven.

Will you go crazy? You can
Go crazy. You can go crazy.
You can.

On a final note, I was pretty disturbed this week about the protest at MacKenzie HS in Detroit on Wednesday. Between 120-200 students walked out of class and marched down the street chanting (according to the Det. News) "No Books, No School." They walked out because there weren't enough text books, the bathrooms were disgusting, and they didn't want to wear uniforms. Obviously, it's the first two reasons that have got me disturbed... I guess the protest got out of hand (the kids marched in the street, the Freepress says a bottle was thrown, and there was swearing). 32 kids were arrested because of this--those under 17 had $500 fines sent to their parents. Those over 17 were taken to jail. I am upset because any child in a DPS could walk out at any time for a number of good reasons. Who will stand up for the Detroit Students, who want a fair education like any one else would? I wish I could do something...

Well, that's all for now. Thanks for staying with me, if you read the entire post.

ANNE FRANK STUFF

Does it ever occur to anyone that I have to say this and not laugh? :

"Who wouldn't want someone to visit with every night and have deep serious conversations with and who knows what else..."

Oh well, green-green-green-i-thought-they'd-never-end.

Feel free to add your favorite line to say.

Boh. Imp. Vol. IV

I'm at the Carl Sandburg Library in Livonia (Clarenceville, Livonia, Michigan, USA). I'm here with the Garrett boys. They are over playing on another computer. I'm here because Tommy called out sick from school (when you're in school, you call out rather than in) and I picked him up and took them both here while we wait for Elizabeth to get out of the middle school down the street.

We opened Anne Frank this morning. Seth is alive. I asked him where he'd been and he said "Underground." That brought a very wide smile to my face. The kids were very well behaved today in the audience. We're to have small audiences, I hear. They still made plenty of noise after the big kiss, and Peter got the biggest applause.

I got a free issue of a lit mag called "Sun" last week and I can't get over how wonderful it is. Part of the thing that drew me to it was a reader letter from Lilly Tomlin (sp?) in the beginning. There was a short story called "Leda and the Swan, essay #38" That was incredible, I thought. It's told in the form of a GIRL's rambling, poorly written high school essay on Leda and the Swan, a Yeats poem. I think the author's name is Eric Puchner or something like that. It's full of hilarious anecdotes, like she calls Othello Shakespeare's only African American. Anyway, I subscribed to this magazine because I'm kind of an idiot, but I think it will be well worth it. It has poems, essays, and stories, and photos.

Anyone trying to get rid of a bed? Mine is killing my back.

And that's all for now.

Adventures in Bohemian Impoverishment, Vol III

Hello. I'm at the Garretts with John, who is wandering around the room singing "I don't wanna I don't care" over and over.
He has been begging me to push a button.
So, I'll let him:
jkkkkkkkkkkkl

Today I am taking him to the Vitales, a place he calls "The Big House." At 7:45am he asked me if it was 10:30 so we could go. I told him he'd have to wait a while. His response? "I hate your car."

Those who know me or know the abominable (sp?) snow van I have been fated with, know how I felt about that comment. But for those of you who have no clue how I feel about the vehicle, well, yesterday on the way home from the JET it stalled out seven times in the rain and acquired a nickname that once belonged to my laptop. If you still don't know what I'm talking about, well, the other day I told my wife that my plan for the van was to drive it until I can pack up all my things and move to Chicago, unpack my things there, and then push the van off into Lake Michigan. That way I won't need the van that I currently need too much.

I miss Stanley. Now that is Bohemian Impoverishment, but I really miss Stanley Kowalski, may he rest in peace.

Lately in the life of me...

Hello kids. I have a lot going on. Two more performances of Moonglow in Ann Arbor. My Uncle Paul and Aunt Faith are coming tonight, as well as my wife.

Last night I had a dream that I moved to Chicago, in with Leah, Faith's sister. I have been thinking a lot about moving to Chicago , lately, but my main worry is who I'd live with... So it was funny that my dream offered me that idea... It was summertime in the dream; I was about to go see the Cubs play the Tigers at Wrigley Field. How disappointing to wake up to my busy schedule in Michigan in cold weather.

The director for Moonglow saw our show on Thursday and mentioned that after six weeks, it was still quite fresh. This pleased me to hear. I wonder how we do that, repeat and repeat and still give a fresh performance. I think the audiences have a lot to do with it... the chemistry is different every night. Also, though we would never make them intentionally, little mistakes help too. But I feel that because my character is so vague--she's in and out and dancing, a ball of energy, basically "youth" personified, I'm discovering bits about her all the time. I am not tired of the show at all. I'm looking forward to taking it to Lansing at the end of the month.

We started Anne Frank Rehearsals on Tuesday. It's very odd to think that a year has passed since we last put that one on. I am almost too stressed to enjoy it at this point, but hopefully things will slow down a bit soon. I met Joel in Anne Frank last year, so that adds an interesting layer to the process (especially because last year I decided that my character, Margot, can't stand Mr. Dussel most of the time... He kicked her out of her bed, etc... Sorry Joel!) Annie and Roth-Cloth (Dan) are in the show too, and I think the four of us are going to be trouble, soon... Scheduling rehearsals has been a real trial because during the mere two weeks we have, I have Moonglow to close and three day-jobs... I'm trying not to think about that too much. I'm glad my character only has about a dozen lines to review.

I will miss my time with Bethany (Bose)... I'm at a coffee shop with her right now, playing on her wireless internet.

Well, until next time...

bored

You Are 46% Evil

You are evil, but you haven't yet mastered the dark side. Fear not though - you are on your way to world domination.

How Evil Are You?

INNER LIMITS

I WROTE THIS FOR LOS FRIARS (A BLOG I SHARE WITH JOEL, ROB, ROTH CLOTH, JOHN TODT, AND OTHERS. DID I SPELL TODT RIGHT?) I CHANGED IT TO BE MORE BROAD... BUT IT'S ALSO AT LOSFRIARS.BLOGSPOT.COM


inner limits

I was made over a decade after the flight. We stayed behind.
Our rockhouse (worn with new furniture) still stands yet
I am a stranger there. There is no room service. My room
Now belongs to guests. I am no guest. I guess
I cannot measure myself with habitat.

I arrived on time, to the day (I'm told) and on that day
My brother planted a tree out front. Taller than the neighborhood,
I found comfort in the height (my true place in the sky?)
Last week I found a pile of sawdust in its place. I guess
I cannot measure myself with nature.

I grew outside of my own skin. I searched for my face
In the child's den of imagination (sheets on chairs make Kenyan huts)
When no one had implanted my Anglo wall. I learned about
Inflexible features the hardest way I could. I guess
I cannot measure myself with exterior.

I let my spirit soar. It has not returned yet
So I wait for it in cigarette swirls. I like the way
They dance on sunlight. They say five minutes of me
Has gone up in smoke. I am supposed to care. I guess,
I cannot measure myself.

a new poem

LOVE IS THIS
I scald my lips and tongue
On steeping tea. The white
In the window frame blurs
Sky to ground. Everything
Hides behind gray between.

Forgive me, I went again
To the mailbox for encouragment.
Naturally, I found nothing.
What was I expecting? A line.
I desire a line across

This blank page. I'll loop
That line and dot it and wait.
I'll ignore the mailbox next time
(I'd like to promise). You say
Salt must be sprinkled

Here I am: a block inside
A crusted window. I watch
The snow descend and hope
To find, among the fractals,
A silver arrow pointed "next."

Sometimes there are no lines
And if we step our steps make circles.
In blank weather, drowsy tea,
Sinking couch, and silence: keep watch:
A streak of color from the clouds.

another step toward mental stability

Yesterday, George MacDonald described depression or low spirits in the little anthology I have... I'm going to have to paraphrase what he said because I don't have the book with me (I'm in the Angell Hall Fishbowl at UofM waitng for James McNaughton to finish his lecture on Great Books). Anyway, MacDONALD described that these feelings could be overcome, not by forcing ourselves to try to feel rightly spiritual, but by doing good works. By taking action.

I had a rough Tuesday day and then night after Dale's Bible Study--which may mean that the Bible study was good and the opposing forces were trying to keep me from retaining any of it--and I woke up Wednesday morning with a dark cloud hanging over me. I felt so crummy that I considered calling off my Hannan House class because I didn't think I'd be able to make it. Not physically, just mentally. But after I read the MacDonald, I felt like he was telling me to meet my responsibilities, despite my feelings, and they would somehow lift my mood. And I'm so glad I followed that advice because heaven knows what my day would have been like if i'd just stayed inside and stared at the wall.

Hannan house was hysterically funny. My grandma brought photographs of her paintings and took 30 mins of class time to explain them all to the her READERS THEATER classmates. I loved it, because of how much fun the others had while looking at her work, the way they praised her work, and the reminder that this woman is 87 and still productive, even if the process has gotten a little wacky. It wasn't a problem to start so late, since our Ichabod Crane arrived to our rehearsal/class just as my grandma was finishing up her presentation. (She called you Karl, by the way Ian.) One thing that struck me is when one of the classmates praised my Grandma's ability to capture shadows and light in water, my Grandma responded (a bit lucidly) with the fact that she's always been able to find beauty in simple things, without having to look too far.

After the class my mind started to clear--maybe it started to clear with my grandma's beauty comment. But that's what it's like--having a cloud over my mind so that I can't see straight and then some kind of positive idea pierces through that cloud and it dissipates into clarity. Anyway, I guess it all goes to say that I am NOT taking my time with my grandma or my hannan house people for granted.

gratitude

I'm grateful for Eric Bibb lately because he sings "Learn from everyone, that's what life is for." He's coming to the Ark next Thursday but I have a show.

To add to the adventures in bohemian impoverishment, i have been hanging out with john garrett some more for the van's sake. Our last adventure went something like this.

(Garrett House, 8:35 am. Breakfast nook)
JOHN: I want lunch.
NORA: It's not even 9 am. How bout a snack...?
JOHN: Lunch!
NORA: I'll make you a snack. What do you want?
JOHN: A just-jelly sandwich.
(She makes him one.)
JOHN: (screaming) I want only half!
NORA: Chill. You can eat it later, around Lunch Time.
(John finishes his half and then stands on his chair, reaches around to the cookie jar and sticks his hand in.)
NORA: What are you doing?
JOHN: I get a treat after lunch!
NORA: You didn't have lunch. You had a snack.
(Nora checks the cookie jar to see if they are oatmeal or peanut butter or other cookies acceptable before 9am, as it is now 8:55. She finds ho-hos, or whatever those individually wrapped chocolate covered cream cakes are called)
Nora: HA! No way, dude. You can have one after lunch.
JOHN: (Screaming again) But I did have lunch!
NORA: You did not have lunch before 9.
JOHN: I get a treat!!!
(John procedes to scream for no less than 20 mins. Nora leaves the room and goes upstairs so she won't have to deal with his constant "I hate yous". When he's quiet she goes downstairs again.)
NORA: I need to go to the grocery store. Wanna come?
JOHN: No.
NORA: I'll be getting food this time...
JOHN: Let's go right now!

Other news. At Hannan House we're performing The Legend of Sleepy Hollow next. This time my Grandma will play someone named Van Ripper. With this in mind, life won't be boring for a while yet...

We opened Moonglow this week. I hear the audience reactions pretty clearly. Tons of laughing or sniffling. The woman who plays Maxine (me when I'm old, sorta... you gotta see it) is astounding. I have a greater appreciation for the play as a whole since we've had good audience feedback so far, much which comes from my Joel. I had no idea how much his opinion mattered to me... but I guess I don't want to embarrass him any more so enough about that. But I'm glad that he liked it. I'm very encouraged after this weekend, from Joel, from the director and the from the playwright. I'm glad to be a part of the show.

It sure is nice to be paid to act... And it's nice to be paid PERIOD, since now I can go grocery shopping, etc. I have been well-taken care of in my time of broke-ness, and I'm super grateful to all that helped.

I leave you with something I caught Stevie Wonder saying today at the bit of pre-show I got to see between shows today. (And WHY he didn't have the halftime slot in the motor city is totally beyond me. Who makes these decisions anyway? He sounded great, by the way...) After singing "Now is the time for love" or something like that, he said, "Remember, it's not the religion, but the relationship..." I had no idea Stevie had been attending Dale Batten's Bible Study!

Adventures in Bohemian Impoverishment

Living from paycheck to paycheck is a fine way to live (I guess) until one of your paychecks falls through because the lady who is supposed to sign it went out of town. And then some of the kids you are supposed to be nannying get the stomach flu... So, I've been scrounging around for ways to put gas in the car so I can go to work in Ann Arbor. On Thursday, I had a little adventure.

I babysat John Garrett (who's parents are letting me pay for the van they let me use by babysitting for them for free). While he watched the Labyrinth in Erinn and my living room, I remembered the bottles and cans from the Christmas party that were bagged and in the basement. After the movie, I loaded John and the deposit-fest into the van and headed over to the Value-Plus grocery store where I knew there was a deposit despenser...

I did not think about it much. I didn't take into account that John has my coloring and therefore looks like my son. I didn't think about the fact that I would be entering a grocery store with a cart full of beer bottles, a four year old (who looks six), and no wedding ring. It didn't cross my mind that I would be going in there with bottles and a "son" and coming out with cold cash. It all just never crossed my mind until I got there.

While we were throwing the cans in the despenser (and taking joy at the crunch sound they make), an elderly gentleman parked his walker by the shopping carts to get a closer look so that he could display his obvious disapproval. I got tons of looks from other people and then wondered if this is what being a young single mother would be all about... Though I guess the beer cans were 60% of the reactions. We had to wait in line to get the slips cashed from the cashier. She gave me an amused look. On the way out John asked why we didn't get any food. "Because I need money for gas." He, also, glowered at me in disapproval. I never felt so poor in my life.

I couldn't help but be thankful that I'm no single mother. And wonder if this is the kind of mother I'd be...

happenings

i don't know if that's a good title for this post, but i am tired of just writing "update".

So, i live half my life in ann arbor with this show. the dancing is fun, but it doesn't seem like nearly as much dancing as when i started. the moves don't seem that difficult anymore (maybe because i've been sort of watching ice-skating, which looks sooo much harder than swinging.) because it's a new show, the playwright keeps adding lines so the other day i got three more pages of dialogue for the last scene. this is good but a little nerve-wracking. the show is coming together. we're moving into the theater tonight. i'm excited about that because the rehearsal room isn't big enough and i'm always afraid that i'm going to dance all over (and kick) the director and stage manager.

I'm still staying with Bethany a lot, but this week I stayed with Alec (from Inherit the Wind) as well and stayed up till 4am jamming with him. We may have written a song. I'd written the words earlier that day (while Ella and Olivia watched their daily Dora the Explorer marathon.) So we put my words to a chord pattern Alec had. That was a blast though we may have blasted the neighbors out of sleep. it was a fiday night, come on. I haven't been taking guitar lessons though, because a) no money and b) no time. I would like to get back into that.

I've been pretty upset lately because my theater addiction has been preventing me from meeting people's requests to sing at weddings and funerals. Well, one wedding and one funeral. Twice, I had to turn people down this week because I can't be let out of crucial rehearsals. This makes me question how much I should be doing theater. In a way, I'm doing it for the money (can you believe that?), but I was really bummed out about having to tell those people no. I guess it's because I like to feel like I'm using my singing to serve the community and I just can't. I wonder if all artists face this fear of selfishness, or if any other business is as rigid.

please excuse the typos. i didn't have time to proofread... i'll fix em later

LINKS

How does one put links on their blogger template? (Like you have, Ian).

George MacDonald quote of the week:

"For he regards men not as they are merely, but as they shall be; not as they shall be merely, but as they are now growing, or capable of growing, toward that image after which He made them that they might grow to it. Therefore, a thousand stages, each in itself all but valueless, are of inestimable worth as the necessary and connected gradations of an infinite process."

a silly poem and a more serious one

Bethany Goad and I started a braided poetry exchage (like I do has Meg, like Joel has with Rob, like they got the idea from Jim Harrison and Ted Kooser). She wrote a poem about tuna fish. I write one about

AN IMPRESSION OF CHILDHOOD

In my early childhood,
Chicken of the sea was all I'd eat.
The name disguised the fins in feathers,
That's probably why.

A cartoon mermaid graced the can
Another, the silver screen,
To my horror: Her face matched
The fins she'd sacrificed, when
Served palace seafood.
She had a nice voice.
I wanted that voice,
Those breasts, that face.
My tolerance for seafood
Washed away with the seafoam
Mr. Anderson originally wrote
As the mermaid's doom.
When Disney dumbed down the ending
For family audiences.

In my early adulthood, I find
The voice shrill, the breasts fake,
The face cliche for the company,
And seafood delicious.
---
The other poem I wrote was based on her wonderful line, "All ideas plagarized somehow." :

ORIGINAL THOUGHT

tell me an orginal
thought I'd tell you
about surprise: wit and
poetry: words

sewn and strung,
pulled, dunked and
hung out to dry on
the tip of my lips.

my lips are thin
my tongue, burnt
on boiled thoughts,
seeped and brewed

chewed to mush,
pulp: an unborn child
shall remain hushed in
search of an original soul.

in the beginning there was
the word and the word
was original and the rest
is xeroxed. I'll take the xerox
if it's a copy of the Original.

updatin

the theater thing continues. after the audition marathon the other day, when i had callbacks for both brooklyn boy at the jet and moonglow at the perf. network in ann arbor, i got cast in moonglow, replacing my dear friend shannon because she needed superbowl sunday off and they wouldn't get an understudy (so i heard). it has about a six week run, starting the first week in february. it's about dementia and nursing homes and swing dancing. i play "the girl" version of the protagonist, maxine, who has flashbacks to her days as a swing dancing gal. so i will be dancing a lot, which my grandmothers will like, but the rest of it might freak them out beyond sleep that evening or the evenings to follow.

in april i will spend three weeks at the boershead in lansing with this play. my my, what a commute.

christmas was busy as hell. is hell a busy place? busy as walmart. i had a party, my parents had three, the florkowski's had one, and rob had one. they were all nice and they were all a blur. i saw lots of good people all weekend, ate food that was just as good (though good in a different way) received some good ways to occupy my time as gifts, and ate lots of dessert. also good.

highlight of the week:
when i went to the gas station yesterday, i got a special discount from the guy behind the counter because he thought i was his middle-eastern cousin! and the name nora strikes again!

One more note: if you are in ann arbor, let me know! i need places to crash, esp. on saturday nights because i have to do sunday matinees.

discovery

my parents are in ny visiting jeff wilkinson and i am raiding their computer and their fridge and i found, from one of the christmas parties, someone left toffee/chocolate brittle in the freezer!

and some people think there's no God...

Tom Waits on Poetry

"Poetry is a dangerous word. It's very misused. Most people when they hear the word "Poetry" think of being chained to a school desk, memorizing "Ode to the Grecian Urn." When someone tells me they're going to read me a poem, I can think of any number of things I'd rather be doing. I don't like the stigma that comes from being called a poet--So I call what I'm doing an improvisational adventure or an inebriational travelogue, and all the sudden it takes on a while new form and meaning.

If I'm tied down to call myself something, I prefer "storyteller." Everyone has their own definition of what poetry is, and of who's a poet. I think Charles Bukowski is a poet--and I think most will agree to that."

Radio Heaven

On the way home from the Audition-Marathon, This Over the Rhine quote slapped me pretty hard.

i guess i never told you
'bout this life i'm livin'
it's heaven versus hell
in a split decision
this secret religion is
the best that i've found
i radio heaven
when no one's around
~I Radio Heaven

Thinking about Poetry

Okay, so I've been using a supposed Auden quote for nearly half a decade now... I shared it with Rob who, in a little less toned-down way, said Auden's philosophy was "self indulgent" (ha ha ha, Robby Z!). So, I'm going to retell the story that my poetry professor told me about the fellow and then discuss it.

I've often quoted the poet man as saying that poetry is playing with words. That is a rough summery of this story:

When Auden was teaching at some university (he taught at several including that big Blue one), a student showed up in his office and said, "I want to write poetry."
To which Auden replied, "How come?" and the student said,
"Because I have something to say."
And Auden said, "Then go ahead and say it."
Another student comes into his office and said the same thing. "I want to be a poet.
Auden says, "How come?"
The student says: "I like to play with words."
And Auden says, "Sit down."

Or maybe it was told to me that the student said, "I like words."


So, that's the idea that was put in my head by my poetry-as-lit-professor, Professor Powers while I was simultaneously taking my first poetry/fiction CW class. I liked this idea a lot--that poetry was separate from other writing forms because the author pays more attention to the words, their form, the way they sound--and not just the idea he's trying to convey.

(I don't think this story actually happened. It may have, but has the structure of a joke. I just enjoy the idea)

Rob's argument was that all writing is supposed to communicate, if not, it's masturbating. I agree with him on this--but i think both ideas are correct. I think Auden's poetry is a fine sample of wordplay and profound communication of ideas. I guess what I want to be, as a poet, is someone who can communicate and play at the same time. I think Shakespeare is one of the best at this, that I know anyway, at choosing words that convey ideas in their meaning and their sound. For example, in the Henry V prologue:

"Can this Cockpit hold the vasty fields of France?"
(meaning, can this theater hold the french fields we're trying to portray. Look guys! A reference to cockfighting! Where's the Cadieux?)

Can-This-Cockpit is abrupt sounding, limited sounding, if you will. And "Vasty Feilds of France" sounds huge--especially if you're trying to say it out loud, and the rhythm slows down.

So do you get what I'm saying? Anyway, I love discussing this stuff, and as many of you are poets, I'd like to know your thoughts.

seeing a lot and spending too much money

I apologize in advance for the typos. i've been making them like crazy today.

Hi folks. I have more movie reviews, but I'm going to give you my life in chronological order:

Friday, Dec 2nd: Over the Rhine at the Ark.
Lovely concert. Accompanied by Joel, Hawk, and what Joel calls my "Army of Blondes": Meg, Lisa, Bethany Patterson, Bose (Bethany Goad). Though the music was wonderful, my favorite part was when Karin referred to Linford as her, "Bohwa" (Boy). I liked "Little Did I Know" the best out of all of the songs they performed. It's very impressive to me, how a couple of people from 2005 can write a song that sounds like 1935. I guess I liked the concert so much that I jumped at the opportunity to see them again, on the 18th, in Lisa and my Roadtrip Reprise down to Ohio to see them forst in Cincinatti and then go up to Clevelend to check out the R&R Hall of Fame because they are showing an exhibit about Tommy: The Amazing Journey. I hope OTR performs Blue and Jesus in New Orleans there. And what's that other one: Who will guard the door when I am sleeping. I love that song and wanted to hear it.

After the concert, Hawk, Joel, Meg, Bose and I went over to the Hiedleberg (someone help me with the spelling)and enjoyed the German downstairs. The bartender was cool, but not as cool as listening to Bose order in German!

SATURDAY, Dec 3rd: Saw Nickel and Dimed. Why did someone turn a book of essays into a play? As a result, the play had no climax, no structure. But the actors did a nice job and it looked good.

SUNDAY, Dec 4th: Saw Handel's Messiah at the DSO. That was a fine experience. It was fun to dress up with Joel. The singers, the leads, were amazing. And MSU's choir did a fine job as well. After that show I got a fantastic squash-paste pasta dish at the Traffic Jam. YUM.

TUESDAY, Dec 6th: Saw a wings game for free! God bless Joel's hook-ups. Shanahan scored twice, Yzerman scored once. Had a nice time, despite the fact that my friends got yelled at by some fans sitting in front of us for being rowdy during a hockey game!!

WEDNESDAY: Started guitar lessons with Thornetta Davis' guitar player, Brett Lucas. It went well, but it's a lot of work to practice every day. I think it will be good for me. It's just hard to imagine keeping it up, once I get a busy schedule.

THURSDAY: Went to Uncle Tom's Bible Study after auditioning for the JET porduction of Brooklyn Boy. Saw a lot of old favorites there. I had a good time at the audition, though the part isn't really right for me. I mean, I hope it's not, since it's a valley girl. The Bible Study was nice. We're studying Corinthians. I'd just heard Dale teach this, not too long ago, so his stuff was still fresh. But man, are those teachers different,

FRIDAY: What did I do on Friday? Oh, I babysat and then met Joel and Annie at a bar in corktown called the Lager House. I was so beat that I can't remember the band very much. What was their name, Annie? Something and the Holy Ghost Church? I liked their sound. The girl was supposed to have a violin but it got stole. OH! That's what the song that Kelly from Destiny's Child sings: Life is Stole (oh oh, now we'll never know... Benny was in that video.) Sorry! Like I said, I was beat...

YESTERDAY: I went to my Grandma's B-day dinner at Paesanos in Ann Arbor, then I went home and watched three movies back to back (one in the theater)

DIRTY PRETTY THINGS: I enjoyed this, disturbing as it was. It had good characters and a clever twist. But it was a hard one. So sad!

HOTEL RWANDA: Saw it before but wanted to show it to Joel. It made Dirty Pretty Things seem like a Disney Flick.

THE CHRONICALS OF NARNIA: A disney flick! I tried not to be too critical. It was nice to look at but I like my imagination better. The kids looked good. Do you think it's a coincidence that Peter looks just like Prince William? My favorite part was when Aslan walked across the beach below Cair Paravel, right after he was resurrected, and I said aloud, "Footprints!"

And the winner is... Hotel Rwanda. Life is a competition.

Mooovies.

well, with thanksgiving out of the way, we're on our way to christmas now. I wouldn't know, i'm not in retail or anything... i had a lovely holiday week. let me tell you about it.

on sunday i went to see savion glover tap dance to classical musica and it was fantastic. he's amazing, there ain't anything else to say about him. oh, and i saw otis there, which was a real treat for me. i gotta get some more tap lessons quick! though watching savion makes me never want to ATTEMPT to tap dance again...

i rented a whole load of movies. let me tell you about all the movies i've seen lately:

1) The Virgin Suicides. Already told you about it.

2) Harold and Maude. I saw this for the first time. What a trip! A trip up the old staircase, as I used to say. I agree with lisa, that the best one is when he takes out that meat cleaver and chops off his hand. if you don't know what i'm talking about, rent it yourself!

3) Closer. This movie just made me mad. Good performances, but trashy writing! Do people actually ever talk like that? Eww. Gross. Come on people... Where's the love, black eyed peas?

4) A Very Long Engagement. Description: Amelie with more sex and waaaay more blood. It was heart wrenching but i really like that director's style. There's something beautiful and quirky about his movies with all those adorable anecdotes (which, in this movie, included horrific ways of killing people in WWI. Yuck!) Maybe it's just that he's French? I wouldn't mind looking exactly like Audrey Tatou. I've tried her hair a couple times. It suits me. She was great. The movie had a disappointing ending though, i thought. Not that I know of a better way to end it. But can you beat Amelie's ending?

IN the theater: Walk the Line. I enjoyed this one. I didn't think it was dull (as did my brother). I thought reese was fantastic and the singing was cool. In hindsight, would have liked to see a bit more about Jesus. But it was about June and Johnny, that was the plot, not really his conversion, I'd say. It was a tight film to me, and Dan Miller from Blanche was cool to see on screen.

Okay, enough with the movies. Friday night was fun. Had a big crowd (the faces i saw that night were: ian my bro, lisa, rebecca r, rachel my cousin, and then briefly marty. also saw uncle matthew) at the bar after seeing two shows. The first was ACTION at the Abreact. It was nice to see Rollo Rollin rollin' around the stage in a big old chair, and Mr. Maher gut a fish. YUM. And the next was a drama developed through improv down at the ANT late-night. Got to see my friend Katie Thomas on stage. She was in my acting class at UM. I half expected John Neville Andrews to stop the performance with a "hold please!" and then give some anecdote of his own about some whore somewhere. And then hear Kevin Bradley Jr. giggle. Is anyone getting any of this? my point was to say i felt like i was in my acting class again because we had to watch each other act so gosh darn much. I enjoyed her performance though.

After that we all went to the "O Brothers" and danced around to Dan Kahn on the juke box.

On Sunday I bought a new battery for that van. i'd call it cursed, but that would be rude. Looks like I'll be driving it for a while, anyway. And that's it folks. That's what I have been up to. This week is packed with activities... i'll tell you about them after they occur.

Oh for the record, musie knows about joel now. so i guess everyone else will, soon. her reaction: "How old is he again?"

bringing in the snacks

Well, Inherit the Wind is so over. I'm glad, though I did have a good time with my foursome--Alec, Ian, Carly and I--who spent the last week writing the afterglow skit. Many hours in my living room. We kept my roomate up too much, I feel bad about that, but the skit was a success. (The afterglow is when the stagehands put on a show to spoof the original.) The theme was about bringing in snacks at rehearsal, since the Park Players have made issues out of that. You have to sign up, etc. And you get in big trouble if you bring in snacks and don't clean up.

I would tell you highlights, but as you can imagine, it's mostly inside jokes for the cast. We did quote one of the finest directorial spewings ever noted by a director in community theater history:

"No guys! It's supposed to be more like sex! More like Sex! The best sex you ever had... except for you kids, for you it's like Christmas."

Also, we had a little girl selling "Hot dogs! lemonade! eskimo pie! birth control!" which was appalling and shamefully hilarious. I shake my head and crack up everytime i think of it.

The actual show ended up being s success critic-wise, i think. I had a darn good time but will not miss saying some of those lines: "A thought is like a child, it has to come out!"

Backstage I read "The Virgin Suicides" by Jeffery Eugenides during my 20 min break during act two (except for those times i chatted away with lisa instead). It was great. I saw the movie last night which I enjoyed as well. But the book was better, of course. It was, I interpretted it as, a commentary on life in Grosse Pte. during the Detroit riot years. It was beautifully written. In the movie, Kirsten Dunst played a real slut. Who knew she could be such a slut?

--Slut is such an ugly word, isn't it?

Also to note, I went to Cleveland last week to tour with I WAS JUST KIDDING. It was uneventful. except one of the schools had a book mobile. It reminded me of when I played Popeye Jackson and had a monologue about a traveling book mobile. There were also little books for the Narnia Movie coming out. It looks like it's going to be pretty and add a lot of unnecessary stuff. Mr. Joel will probably drag me to see it. But I won't say I won't be kicking! At the same time, I get annoyed when people don't like the LOTR movies, because as movies they are great. As books they are better but if the books were taken verbatim and thrown on screen, they would make terrible movies. So, I KNOW they are different avenues of creative expression, but I kind of like the way the characters look in my own head....

Anything else? Happy Thanksgiving, I guess, considering the fact that I probably won't update before then.

Inherit the Wind thoughts

I just got home from Troy, where I accompanied Mary Davis to do an "I was Just Kidding" show for some people/kids in a Jewish Congregation. After the show, which went fine though the audience was too quiet for the play to really work, Mary and I talked about the message in our show, what we were trying to convey to the kids. That was interesting, but not as interesting as the conversation that followed my beckoning to change the subject to Inherit the Wind, as I have the Sunday matinee to execute in two hours and ten minutes from now...

I asked that we talk about Inherit the Wind so I could get my mind on it. We talked about my character, Rachel, for a bit--how she's at a turning point in her life where she realizes that it's okay to ask questions and she questions some of the things that had been instilled in her by her (psycho, he's actually psycho) Christian Fundamentalist father, the town reverend. That's how Mary got to talking about the spiritual themes of our play. (Mary is the producer, btw).

She brought up a line that comes from the agnostic defense attorney, Drummond, about the religious figure/prosecuting attorney, Brady. Drummond criticizes Brady for believing in a God "Too high up and too far away." After Mary repeated this line, my brain started ticking. Drummond, at the last scene, reveals in this line that he's more spiritual than we are led to believe. I love the fact that he says this line, because I think it's really one of the major themes of the play. It's a theme in my spiritual life, anyhow:

Why do we have a tendency to shove God back into that special room of the temple, where only the highest priest can interract with Him, when, through Jesus, God has made himself accessable to us? Dale Batten always brings up what a wonderful thing it is to know that now WE are the temple of God, that God created us to hold his very spirit; that no longer do we have to prepare ourselves, outwardly, to enter the Holy of Holys, (Holies? haha) to interract with our God. Jesus came to us, died for us, and now lives in us... some of us believe this, so why do we have a tendency to try and send Jesus back to his room while we wait outside and try to make ourselves worthy of Him? His resurrection has made us worthy of God, worthy enough to have God reside in us.

Which brings us back to Inherit the Wind. At one point, Drummond asks Brady where Cain's wife came from, and Brady says "I don't think about the things I don't think about." Here, Drummond drills Brady because he wants him to think about the things he believes. I get this Brady answer sometimes, from some people. "He's God," is their answer to my questions, "He can do whatever He wants." But do we not believe that God wants to think about the things that He does? It seems that our faith would call us to question, because, in faith, we believe that God has the right answer. To me, my relationship with Jesus always goes back to the fact that Jesus is real, He's alive, he has a personality (He's a person) for me to get to know, and he wants to have Fellowship with me. He wants me to communicate with Him. A huge part of communicating, of most deep conversations, is asking questions. I want to know Jesus more so I ask Him questions.

I think bad communication with God is when we ask Him questions and wait for Him to give us the answers we already know (I do this constantly...) First of all, that's not having faith that God is a very interesting Being, and second of all, it's not having faith in the sovereignity of God. If I could only keep in mind, when I ask my questions, that God is the Lord, the Creator, and He's sovereign, then I might find clearer answers to these things that frustrate me about my faith. If I could only figure out how to trust God for His answers when I ask my questions...

So, I guess that's why I think Inherit the Wind is a good play. It does not try to answer the question of how we came about (or, it shouldn't, anyway), but urges people to think things through. And as a Faith-based person, I should not be offended by Inherit the Wind's recommendation that we take advantage of our right to think, but be grateful for it. Because, through Jesus, I have been granted a right to ask God questions and to trust His answers.

And I had to skip church today to do the I Was Just Kidding Show...

goings on

So, we open Inherit the Wind tomorrow. There's enough people in it to have a big time musical number. It was looking good at yesterday's rehearsal. Meanwhile, I have been on the "committee" of people my age in the cast who are all writing the afterglow skit that makes fun of the production. This is a frightfully easy task.

I had election day off from rehearsal, even though we're in the middle of tech week, and saw Mr. Jeff Tweedy of Wilco-fame pour his soul out into an acoustic guitar. It was cool! Souls are neat-looking... Okay whatever. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Jeff was great. I think he played mostly stuff from Being There. He played tha "Turn your eyes to the Lord of the Skies" Woody-Guthrie-Aeroplane-song. Beautiful song. The drummer from Wilco opened for him and he was great. As my bro predicted, Jeff talked alot to us. He was a little quiet at first and then got rolling. He just seems like a nice guy. Someone yelled at him "You're fucking beautiful, man!" to which Tweedy replied something along the lines of "I always have strived to be fucking beautiful." What did he say? I think he was funnier than that... Oh well. I want to see that documentary now.

I have done another round of kid shows this week. Oh, I didn't mention that yet. I got pulled into a touring JET show called "I was Just Kidding." It's, as co-actor Eli called it, a "Morality Play" about some kids that learn to play nice instead of backstabbing each other and talking about each other. It's fun but I have had to miss church twice for it, miss some of my babysitting opportunities, etc. But I don't mind too much. We have a talk-back after with the kids, but they just aren't fun without Joel.

On Tuesday night I went to bed to see who the Mayor was. It was Freman Hendricks. When I woke up, it was Kwame A. River. Do they have these problems in Canada? They must, because Margaret Atwood is about the angriest author I know of.

Lisa had someone comment on her blog under the name of "It's 1am and I can't think but I'm commenting anyway". How random is that? And then they lectured her! I almost peed my pants. Come on now, if you are going to give your sermon, show yourself! Haha. I wonder if that person, it's definitely a gal, reads my blog.

So today we went on tour with the kids show to Holly, Michigan. And guess what folks, there were black kids there! I was pleased and delightfully surprised. Next week we're going to Cleveland. I hope to see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, not that the visit would bring me any closer to Bono than I've already been. Now I'm wondering if the anon. commenter was a gal... I should stop talking about that.

I had a dream the other day that I was in Hazel's house in Kwazulu Natal and I stepped outside and Arifani was there (one of my best South Africans) and he gave me a big hug and told me I he wasn't going to let me go back to America. I woke up just then! That was so heart-wrenching.

I feel pretty shameless in this blog entry. Lets see, I sweared, I mean, swore, I ripped on someone's comment, I said "peed my pants." You may blame it on the Theater whilst I sigh.

No Failure Here, Sweetheart

Hello again. I'm finally caught up on sleep from the three day trip to see U2 in Auburn Hills. No, it didn't really take 3 days, just 26 hours because I went with Ian and Marty, aka, Diehard U2 Fans. We were also joined by two of Marty's sisters, Connie and Angela. So it was a family affair. We slept in the parking lot of the Post Bar across the street (Opdyke?). I once went to the Post with Nate and Xander to see a band play. Around this time of year, I think. Anyway, the Marty/Ian clan couldn't sleep in the parkinglot of the Palace because the security there was pretty stiff. We drove around for about 4 hours looking for U2 fans and then finally found them at about 1am. There was one girl organizing the line. We gave her several names, including, our ring leader, "Good Stuff", Numero Uno, One, etc. She was even more diehard because she saw the vertigo tour about seven times or something and last time she was pulled up on stage with Bono, so that somehow gave her seniority. Good Stuff. (we gave her that name because Marty said something to her, and that was her response.)

Angela has a son and couldn't find a babysitter (her mom stood her up or something) so she kept going back and forth to Novi, once she appeared with her child, and then finally she went and picked up the youngest Shea sister from school to babysit. It was crazy but kind of amusing. Marty did not stop scheming the whole time. He came up with about seventy five master plans for this and that. I can't remember any of these.

Well, we had about 70 or so people in the parkinglot when we all ventured over to the Palace around 2pm. There were 15 people already standing in line to get in, so Good Stuff ended up being more like 16 instead of one. We couldn't get those in front of us to join our numbering system because the Palace announced on the radio that the numbering starts at the door or something. But the rest of us kept our number system.

When we finally got in the place, all five of us won the lottery to stand in teh "elipse" of the Vertigo stage, which meant that we were five of the 300 that could stand nearest to the main stage. Ian, Marty, Connie, and I stood so we leaned on the stage. We were close enough for Bono to spit on us. Whether he did or not, I can't remember.

Gavin Rossdale's new band opened. They are called Institution. He is a good-lookin' man. Had no idea.

My favorite part of the concert was when I heard Bono sing,

There's no failure here sweetheart,
Only when you quit."

That sounded like the Kingdom of God to me. It blew me away because I've been dipping in doubts lately. The line took me by surprise. I have listened to the new album alot, but those are lyrics from the Miracle Drug song and I don't really like it very much; I usually skip it. But I did like it live. Other highlights were Where the Streets Have No Name, with bright heaven lights. I also enjoyed that he closed with Forty. And he played Walk On, which, those who know me know that that song is pretty significant to me. The disappointing thing to me was that he didn't play Original of the Species. Which would have been fun because, A) I'm in Inherit the Wind so I would have enjoyed the Darwiny reference, and B) because that song would have been good live. My favorite U2 song right now is "One Step Closer" off of the new album. It is so simple but it rips me up every time. I guess my favorite U2 songs, One Step Closer, When You Look at the World, Playboy Mansion, these are all Album songs, rather than show songs.

Well, that's it about U2 for now. Looking forward to seeing them on their next tour.

Next time: I need to update you all on how my Grandma and I both got Mugged at gunpoint when I took her to the doctor. Maybe I Can just tell you right now. I was stupid and talking to my dad on the cellphone while I climbed in the car, and when I looked up to close the door (after I hung up the phone) there was a gun in my face. I had about 10 dollars in my pocket from babysitting earlier that day. I gave him that. My grandma didn't know he had a gun and was yelling at him.SHe siad "We just came from the doctor! How do you expect us to have money on us?" I started to close the door on him and he went away. the spookiest part was that he was about 15 or 16 years old.. Later on, I talked to my grandma about it and she said she wished she hadn't yelled at him. I told her, "No Grandma, that's the best part of the story," and she laughed. I feel pretty bad-ass because people move out of the city for things like that. I'm not going anywhere. Yet.

a small dabble to keep the blog moving

I just realized that it's been weeks since I added to this thing. Part of this is due to the fact that I don't get to the internet much anymore. The JET show is done and now I spend most of my time in rehearal for Inherit the Wind or The Wizard of Oz at the Ant.

I sang last night at a benefit concert for the Convenant Community Care, which is a health center that treats people without insurance. I sang back up for Chris Martin's band--my uncle Paul and Aunt Donna and Frank Oakley. It was a good time. It made me want to get back into my own music, which I'm a little annoyed that I don't have much time for.

I seem to be seeing a lot of music lately. I don't know how I have time for it. I saw Blanche at the Magic Stick a couple weeks ago. Tomorrow night I'll have had the U2 experience. On the 8th I'm going to see Jeff Tweedy (of Wilco) in Ann Arbor. And on the 2nd I'll get to see Over the Rhine at the Ark in Ann Arbor.

I have 6 mins before I have to get to rehearsal. I have stories to tell, I guess they will have to wait.

Stolen Clip, Update

I got this from my cousin Rachel's site. It made me laugh.

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/shining.html

I'm sitting at the JET, "putzing around"* the internet. I don't have a car yet, but, fingers crossed, I'll have one tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, I've been pretty successful at borrowing a car when I need one, mostly from my mother. The only thing is, her car is the same color as the asphalt, so I get a little nervous driving it.

Other than that, I started sitting for the Garretts again, now on Wednesdays. I had to cart the four kids all over town. The highlight was a game of Mad-Libs on the way to dropping Elizabeth off at Mosaic (W Grand Blvd and 3rd, around) that even John, who is three, participated in. The best part was when Tommy Garrett had to name a liquid and chose "Poison." That worked very well, as you can imagine, especially when the entry was about a kitchen inspection.

On Monday I taught the three year old girl I sat for how to play Monopoly. We didn't get very far into the game, but she got the idea. She must have been so bored.

Rehearsals for Inherit the Wind have gotten to be kind of stressful. The part I have, Rachel, flips out in just about all her scenes. It takes a lot of emotional investing, and that seems to be harder for me to do ever since I dropped being depressed, say seven months ago. I'll take being stable, thank you.

Oh, and I'm hoping to go see Jeff Tweedy play a solo concert in Ann Arbor sometime soon... does anyone remember when that is? I need to make sure I have it off.

*I stole this phrase from Lisa, but it seems more appropirate since I am around more Jews than she is. BTW, I wonder if she knows what that word means... Uncle Matthew just explained.

Hurray for Hawk

Joel's friend John Hawkinson (Okay, he's my friend too) got us tickets to see the White Stripes o Sunday night. We went to the Masonic Temple, which reminded me of my rebel days sneaking around that haunted place (if I wake up dead tomorrow, you'll know it's because a mason reads this blog). The duo was fantastic. I really want the new album now. I was so ignorant about them--I thought that there was more people in the band! That's because all I knew about them were a) what I heard off an album I stole from Nate for a couple of months and b) the three disk on a tape compilation my brother left in my house that I listened to driving around last summer, c) that jack white used to date renee z. and d) he just got married to a super model and e) he kissed my Aunt Faith when she was five. I didn't know he could get all that sound out of one guitar.

Hawk claimed to know Marty and Ian. So did this accompaniment--Julie somethingorother who recognized me from my old talent agency. Weird!

Dylan

My mom wrote a poem after watching the Scorsese (sp?) Dylan Doc on PBS. She wrote this at 2am:


About Bobbie D

He is a character

has character

and the content of his character

is content to be

What it is

I said

What it is

JET-Play Boredom (again, skip if you like)

I stole this from Palmer's online journal. Time filler I decided to publish (because it's much more fun to fill out with an imagined audience)


THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Nora Jean
2. Nojay
3. Sho'ty

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. NJtheLB
2. Uyulala14
3. Chicken3 (Freenet! Remember Freenet?)

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. the little scar by my right eye
2. hair
3. eyelashes

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. sinuses
2. hearing loss
3. wish my hands were a little bigger (so i could play the guitar easier)

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. English
2. Irish
3. Welsh

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. driving
2. my next door neighbor
3. "the duldrums of a once-place destiny"

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. laughing
2. reading (or writing)
3. playing the guitar

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. contact lenses
2. earrings
3. hiking boots

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS:
1. America (P. Simon)
2. Think About Your Troubles (H. Nilsson)
3. Mama You've Been On My Mind (Bob Dylan)

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. a sense of humor
2. faithfulness
3. surprises

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE (in no particular order, try and guess which is which):
1. Chaleshisdick means nauseating or sickening in Yiddish
2. Farblondget means lost or dysfuctional in Yiddish
3. Farputst means perplexed in Yiddish

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE PREFERRED SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. wit
2. honesty
3. not materialistic

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Learn how to play the guitar really well
2. Write a steller story to send to MFA programs
3. buy a car

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING/YOU'VE CONSIDERED:
1. Undergraduate Writing Instructor/Writer
2. Urban Planner
3. Egyptologist

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. Buenos Aires
2. Greece
3. Prince Edward Island in the Autumn

THREE KID'S NAMES YOU LIKE:
1. Ella
2. Eva
3. Henry

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Learn Spanish
2. See a Wilco concert
3. Live somewhere else

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A GIRL:
1. I use my cute to get what I want
2. I blushed when I was putting away baby shoes at JCP
3. I wear make-up

THREE CELEB CRUSHES:
1. Edward Norton
2. Savion Glover
3. Toby McGuire

THREE PEOPLE THAT I WOULD LIKE TO SEE TAKE THIS QUIZ NOW:
1. Jesus (I'm curious about what parts of his body he doesn't like. Besides, I'd bet he'd have really interesting, faith stretching, mind-boggling, rebel answers)
2. Tom Waits
3. Joe Colosi's Parents

A Eulogy

Stanley Kowalski is dead.
I'm referring to my 95 Taurus that was,like the Streetcar character, big, hot, and had a lot of problems. Now he has too many problems.

His death came about from the leaky transmission fluid that streaked the streets--not dripping, but pouring out like a faucet. I took him to the transmission place who told that he was beyond repair for his worth.

Anyone need to get rid of a well-running car?

Some more poems

I've been having a blast with the poetry forms book I stole form my mom. There was one entry about Alphabet poems. It told the writer to write a poem based on how a letter looks to us. We use ee cummings as a model:

e.e.’s:
who are you, little i

(five or six years old)
peering from some high

window at the gold
of november sunset

and feeling: that if day
has to become night

this is a beautiful way



I was amused with what I came up with (no where as lovely as ee's):

Who are you, little c?
Pac-man, I think
Chomping fruits and speeding up
Around the corners of your maze
You search for these,
For bananas and cherries
And oranges: more points for
A higher score.

When you’ve chomped a screen-full
You may move on, but careful
The higher the level
The more frequent are your ghosts.

Nora's 201st post

Reporting from the JET.

Act one of Broadway Bound is longer than the whole Two Men in a Box.

Well, half of my week is over. Highlight of the last week at JC Penney:

Nora: That rack of St. John's Bay shirts is pretty empty. Should I try to grab some from the stockroom?
New Supervisor: I think there may be some in the stockroom.
Nora: Yeah, that's what I'm asking.
New Supervisor: Do you know how to go upstairs to the stockroom?

No. I haven't a clue. Good thing I'll be out of there before they can teach me!

Highlight of Monday's Babysitting:
(N.grills cheese sandwiches and puts them on plates for E. and O.)
O. I want dip for my sandwich!
N. What dip? Ranch?
O. (Shouting) No! The red one!
E. (Also shouting) Yeah! Weh Wa!
N. Ketchup?
E. and O. (Shouting) Yeah!
(Nora squirts Ketchup on O.'s plate)
O. More!
E. Moe!
(Nora fills the plates)
E. (Screaming) Moe!
N. You don't need more.
E. (Screaming louder) Moe wahh Wehhhh!
N. What?
E. (Screaming and crying) Wehhhhh moe!!!
N. You don't need more.
(Nora puts Ketchup in fridge. Meanwhile, E. plays with the ketchup on her plate with her bare hands and then hops off her high-chair.)
N. No! Stand still! Don't touch anything!
(E. runs to dining room curtains. Nora turns around and sees tiny, gooey red hands clutching the curtains from behind.)

Also this week I taught Hannan House Yesterday which is always a joy. We read a play about how Nero, Ivan the Terrible, and Satan form a plot to destroy Christmas from their hellish domain. Of course, we won't be performing that one but BOY was it an experience to listen to. It was all in rhyme.

Finally, I had the read through for Inherit the Wind at the Park. The cast, I believe, is very good, esp. those who were cast as Drummond (Kirk Kreckler) and Harrison (I think his name is?) (Some guy named Frank is the actor.) The guy playing my opposite is named Ian and is a film and video major at EMU. I asked him if he were my brother. He said no. He's not my brother--this Ian is over six feet tall. I made the statement that after the trial is over, we run off to become an Ice Skating team.

That's all folks. Two more days of JCP. Three and and a half more weeks at JCC (That's the Jewish Ensemble Theater hang out.)

I should also mention that here at the JCC, someone had a beach party
bar mitvah and filled the welcome hall with blow-up palmtrees. I didn't even get to see the hall where they had the actual bar mitzvah. At the end of the party, the people who threw the bash threw out all the trees to the loading dock. Annie and I salvaged our own.

one of those rants about being busy, skip if you like.

Well, I did it again. Got myself into a show. Or two, if your count the backstage area. I told myself I would take a break from theater. Meanwhile I start rehearsals for the neighborhood's Inherit the Wind on Tuesday, and I'm right smack in the middle of tech week for the JET show. They're running act II right now. I wish Palmer were here. Good news is, there's not much food in this show. Less dishes to wash. I wish I were doing props for Oleanna.

I'm busy enough to be in school again. I have JCP (last week) every morning next week at 6am. 3 days of babysitting, prep and class time for Hannan House. Meeting with a writer's group somewhere in there. Too much to do when I'm going to bed at 12am and waking up at 5. It's only Sunday night, not even the start of the work week and I want to collapse. But hopefully after this week I will be very very rich. For some reason, I'm doubtful of that.

Just this week is bad. Here is my schedule past that (you know, just in case you want to hang or something...)

Mondays: babysitting 11-5
Tuesdays: Hannan House, 12:30-2, I'll probably go there at 11 to prep, make copies, etc. Rehearsal at night
Wednesdays: Sitting for the Garrett's in the afternoon, JET or Park Players at night.
Thursdays: Writer's group in Ann Arbor at 4:15pm, JET show at night
Fridays.: babysitting 11-5, No JET show, Sun went down on the sabbath
Saturdays: 2 JET shows, 5pm and 8:30pm. So much for the sabbath. I guess the sun will go down around 6pm after daylight savings.
Sundays: Church and JET show or Players Rehearsal.

Oh my... will that actually be my life?

Keeping on the happy side, the gas prices have been falling...

Memory Lane

I found a CD Lisa's dad made me as they were clearning out an old computer. I want another Big Doings! Or how about our own?

Poems about the Apocalypse

I've been writing some poetry as a warm up when I work on my fiction. My mother has a book of poetry forms and I'm working my way through it.

ABSTRACT: When the sound of the words and lines of the poem take precidence over their meaning. I found that my poem did have meaning--probably influenced by the fact that I've been reading Ezekiel. I call it:

WRATH
Green slugs in the gray mud sing the
Murky thumps of rhinoceros stomps and
Breathe the geekish friends of freaks in chalked-up streaks.
We climb the drums and twiddling tombs. And daylight:
Mighty heads hear the fearful hell-bound snow clowns
Scream their tunes in flutes and sticks beating,
Dripping the jet stream waves and waking in ready tears
To trumpets jumping shrieks and painting cheeks in peaches. Teach
The drooping child to jump. Dance the doom steps home in
Synchronization: acclamations heard in foreign lyrics, spears
And swords swipe the screams in two. The notes bounce, pouncing
As puppies on careful stones. The end will not come. The end
Has already begun.

The other is a double-sided ACROSTIC:

reality isn’t always pretty is it
ever enough to sing your aria
to ease my troubles make me ask
unanswerables and this ache
runs my show and plays the guru
now standing in this looking-glass
tries to teach me to trust this ash
out from hellfire they’ll burst to
unimagined heights no sum
sustained in this darkness come

DISCOVERY: I like words with "hell" in them, Hell-fire, Hell-bound...

What's Up (and Going)

1) I resigned from JC Penney's last Friday. A week and a half to go. Good thing too because it's September and there's Christmas stuff out on the sales floor!

2) Picked up some regular baby-sitting jobs. One for the Vitales (Hannah-6, Olivia-3.5, and Ella-2)in South Lyon on Mondays and Fridays and the other for John Garrett (3)on Wednesdays that will start up when his father finds work.

3) Will start next weekend backstage doing props for the JET's production of Broadway Bound. I'm looking forward to being able to see Annie Palmer more often. I know she's still alive because I read her blog. She's playing a concert in Ann Arbor Sunday night. Can't wait to see it. I hope the JET won't conflict.

4)I started teaching at the Hannan House (Senior Activities Center). I'll be teaching a Reader's Theater class. Today I had three people, all of whom I knew before, from the class I helped Blair out with last winter and spring. We'll be performing a play around Christmas time.

5) I've been house sitting for my parents who are on a train right now, heading through Colorado, home from the Grand Canyon. They said the Canyon was spectacular. They're right; I've seen it.

6) Been writing more songs. Right now I have 10 I wrote myself. Looking to do more performing, though my voice isn't quite back yet. Maybe a week from Sunday I'll do an open mic. Anyone interested in coming, or performing with me?

7) My parents "put the dog down" before they left. She was old, pretty dysfunctional, and condemned to our basement. I'm glad I hadn't lived here to be a part of THAT. She's buried in our backyard. I still feel like she's in the family room when I come in from the back door. I'm feeling pretty emotionally disconnected from it, so no need for sympathy. I wonder if I'll ever own a dog again. Maybe if someday I find myself feeling extra responsible, buckled down, with a routine schedule, home often, and bored. Who knows when that will be... Not any time soon.

That's all for now...

some fun for you

Check this out.

ghost for sale

Currently Reading

I started THE GREATER TRUMPS yesterday. A Charles Williams book. Williams was one of the inklings, along with Tolkien and Uncle Clive and Dorothy Sayers. I had the hardest time getting myself to put the book down so I could go to sleep. It's about the original Tarot cards. Weird as Wonderland. Okay, maybe not that weird.

(I watched the Disney Alice and Wonderland with the girls I babysit today and it was WEIRD. I'd forgotten. And there's a hookah in a Disney movie! A symbol of Carroll's drug induced derraged mind while writing the book. Well, we didn't watch the whole thing. The girls --Olivia age 3 and Hannah age 6--got bored after the Cheshire Cat made his first appearance. Did I ever mention on here that I picked up a bi-weekly nannying job?)

Started a Writers Group

In Ann Arbor with Bethany Goad, Meg Leduc, and a girl named Becky Adams. We're going to try to meet every week. Looks like next time will be Saturday the 3rd at 1pm. We did a writing exercise and hopefully we'll be exchanging drafts, eventually. Anyone is welcome to join. :)

The Gospel According To Dale

On Tuesday I had a discussion with Dale about National Identity--does God promote it? I told Him that I had trouble with the OT stuff about God making an exclusive race to represent Him. He asked me why Jesus overturned the tables in the Temple Courts. I don't remember what I replied with. Something about marketing. His answer was that it was because that was the part of the Temple that was supposed to be dedicated to the Gentiles--where they could come in and learn about God and then, after conversion, be allowed into the more inner-parts of the temple. And the Jews were wasting this important part of the temple to sell things. In that way, they were being exclusive.

I've heard Dale speak of this before, but it reminded me that, from the beginning, God has never been exclusive. He separates us by letting us enter into His kindgom, but He has never closed the door. Jesus actually made that door wider in the way that He is even more accessable to gentiles. They don't have to trek all the way to Jerusalem to know about God anymore. Through Jesus, we are the temple and are brought to people face to face.

As a believer, I am separate but never exclusive.

Another cool point he made (and has made before) was with the question, "What was the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah?" He said almost everyone believes that God destroyed them because of homosexuality, but later on in the OT, God explains that they weren't taking care of their poor, their orphans, and their widows. It had nothing to do with sexual sin--at least, the sexual sin wasn't mentioned as a direct cause. Along the line with national identity, Dale reiterated the point that Israel came to ruin again and again when they forgot about their poor.

Mulling it over

I have had some interesting thoughts running through my head. Two phrases were pitched at me that I've been thinking about.

The first was an idea that Freedom is a man-made institution. That's how it was said to me but I interpret it as "freedom is a man-made idea." I replied that Freedom could not be man-made because it relies on a security that comes from an outside source that is not from men. Let me explain. Why is it that we are supposed to recieve freedom from salvation in Jesus? Why do we Jesus-heads walk around proclaiming that we know freedom (more than anyone else...)? I think it has to do with Jesus conquering death. If death isn't conquered we're a slave to it. We might have our lives under control (paid our insurance on this and that), found a way to be happy (creating and vacationing), and a way to have perfect relationships with people (loving them, finding a way to have humility in the presence of others, mastering forgiveness and refusing to judge), but even if we've done all that, there's still the bondage to death: we could die at any second from any number of causes (I'm not in a morbid enough mood to go through them but cars come to mind.) As long as death is at our door, we are not free. But in Jesus there's the idea of resurrection, that life will come through death and that, to me, is pure freedom. If death is taken care of, we are free to live. That is the security I'm talking about.

I am not talking about the security of tightening borders and building defense armies for national freedom. I see that as a kind of slavery. But I think that the same principle motivates those who move in that direction.

When we say, we as in believers, that we are free from this world, I think we are really saying that we are free from the death of this world.

Another idea that was put in my head is the phrase "Being Christ-like without Christ." At first when I heard this phrase, "Christ Like," I thought of the qualities of Jesus that the utterer of the words encompassed: forgiveness, humility, love for neighbors and friends, kindness, patience, openess. And in those things, I'd say they're doing a great job at being Christ-like. But then I had to ask myself for a definition of Christ-like, and that made me realize how, in my thinking, impossible it is to be Christ-like without Christ.

Christ, I'm pretty sure, is the same as Messiah. Messiah means from God, or annointed by Him. Sent from God. Maybe there is another way to define christ, if there is a christ with a lower-case "c," but I can't imagine it for my own life. Really, there is nothing more to being Christlike than being annointed by God. The rest, kindess, Patience, Corinthians 13, comes out of this annointance. Is that a word? Annointance? It is now. We can't be of God, from God, without God. That just doesn't make any sense.

I desire to be Christ-like. I think this is because I've seen something about Jesus that makes me want to emulate Him. I've "tasted" His Freedom, I've had my mind open up, if just a crack, to higher things that have convinced me that, as Bjork sings, "There's more to life than this." These are notions that are a bit separate to my desires to be "Good" in the Corinthians 13 sort of way. I DO think it's possible do be those things without Christ (Checking above my head for lightening...), but there is life beyond those things. Even with those things there is death. I mean, Ghandi was amazing and fantastic and inspirational, but Ghandi died. (Whether or not Ghandi will be resurrected, I have no capacity to know.) The life beyond good comes by revelation. I believe revelation comes by seeking it, and I think Jesus believes that, too.

*I must note that I live in admiration of the Ghandi-esque. I admire effort. I can't imagine that God doesn't admire this as well. I'd much rather surround myself by people who desire Good and don't know Jesus (yet) than people who believe and don't think about love much. I don't know many who follow under the latter, but hopefully you get what I'm saying.

a reminder to myself.

I'm coming to my blank blog document from a place of frustration. I guess I can use the blog this way, right? To rant, just once?

I find myself slipping into the feeling of insignificance again. For a while there I carried myself with purpose, but lately I'm starting to feel again that I have none. That I'm wasting my days away chasing after the ability to support myself. I've started making decisions based on how much money I'll make because I don't have enough money. I am not living very comfortably. I desire a life that allows me to create and be submersed in creative production, but I just cannot manage that right now. I don't have time for it. I work all day and I'm too tired to write. I made the decision today to not be involved in any productions for a while, probably not till March when Anne Frank comes around, because I'm not writing when I'm in a show. But I've lost confidense in my ability to write a piece, specifically fiction, because I haven't done it for so long. I cannot read what I've written and be satisfied, either.

On top of that I am trying to maintain a sort of social life that has grieved me lately me because I'm either at the bar with people who don't know that I love Jesus or if they do they aren't all that interested. Or I am at Bible Studies with people who are my parents' age. I have about three friends that would feel comfortable coming to the bar with me and going to a Bible Study, but beyond that, there is no middle ground and I feel kind of yanked in all directions. Feeling out of place most of the time doesn't really make for feeling like I am productive or feeling that I have significance.

If this blog entry were a Psalm, this is where it would say, "SELAH". Whatever the hell Selah means. Pause, or something. A pause for reflection.

Today I went to my uncle Tom's Bible study, where, yes Rachel, we are studying Revelation. I was very struck by the idea that in the moment before the end, Three Angels come and proclaim a last call to following Jesus. This is a promise that the truth I live by will be unavoidable. Completely clear. A huge part of that book is the idea that everyone will know. I see this as assurance for all of my doubts. There is so much that I don't know. But up to the last second, loud and clear, no longer just a "spiritual thing," I will see these things that I have mere inklings about now. But I am thankful for the inklings. Also, that up to the last minute, Jesus will be inviting people to live with Him. The fact that some of us live with him before this last call is really to our benefit. We should be thankful that we have relationships with Him already. One day, this relationship will be undeniable for me. I need to hear that because I find my mind slipping into denial, every once in a while.

The first angel tells the world that we were created. The idea that I have a creator is the first step to relief for me in this overwhelming feeling of insignificance. I was created with purpose. I have this purpose built in me right now. Not purpose like, "I am going to be a famous writer." But purpose that I will be with God. I will have a relationship with him. That I do have a relationship with him and one day will see, clear as an angel in mid-air (as chapter 14 describes), the fruits of that relationship.

I need to think about this purpose. It reminds me that my relationship with God manifests itself in my relationships with other people. I wrote a song with the line, "You got someone to love, you got a reason to live." I am once again reminded that all my days that are filled with the interraction with others are days with purpose, because every interraction, be it with the guy behind the counter at the gas station or my co-workers at JC Penneys, is an opportunity to love. There is enough of God's purpose to fill each day with significance, just because of that.

Jesus has told me about a billion times not to chase after things like food and clothes. But I have been doing that. I've also been chasing after ways to fulfill myself creatively. I think it's time for me to slow down and realize that if I chase after the Kingdom, chase after obedience to Jesus' will that we love one another the way I know He loves me, I will find that significance I seek. The rest, how I get my food and how I get to be creative, is just the product of this seeking process.

a tour of random thoughts

I don't think I update often enough to have faithful readers.

So, I'm back in the swing of things. Back and broke. I was explaining to one of my coworkers, Lisa Haynes, that there's nothing mexican in South Africa and she said "That's how we're going to make some money, Nora! Open up a Taco Bell!"

I negotiated more hours from my store manager--they were only giving me 16, now I should be able to get at least 20 or 25. I also negotiated, with my supervisor, time off for the campout. I could come for maybe Sunday through Thursday. The clincher is whether or not the store manager and the supervisor communicate well enough to see this contradiction... It's so hard to want money and to not want to work. I guess everyone can relate to that?

I went to a BBQ for Mr. Joel's B-day where his friend made this food--briskets and chicken-- in an enormous smoker he made from a fridge that he painted like a cow. The highlight was meeting Joel's sister and brother-in-law, who I like to call "bad-ass Christians," if that helps you understand what fun I had with them. It's nice to meet believers who are also dark and think. I guess, as they sing in Pete's Dragon, "There's room for everyone in this world," But I guess I would prefer to be in the part of the room where the bad-ass Christians are... you know, the Bonhoeffer ones as opposed to the ones who are left behind.

Tonight I'm going to see a band called teh Magnolia Electric Company and I'm excited because I'm not paying. The good thing about being broke is all the free stuff! The good thing about having money is to be able to provide the free stuff, and I prefer the latter position.

One more note. I THINK I AM PLAYING A CONCERT IN DETROIT NEXT SATURDAY NIGHT WITH BLAIR. Most of you readers will be camping out and I can come up there and play you anything you missed (except I cannot play you Blair, which will be the highlight.) SO, I'll update as soon as I know.

And one more "one more note." I am now dealing with the trauma of having my Sunday school kids insist on reading revelation. What's more, to learn that Haskell always skipped some parts in teaching it feeling that he was unequipped to interpret. So who am I, I wonder. But I don't want to deny them what they want to learn. I mean, I would be ticked to have people tell me "You shouldn't read that..." not ticked, compelled. Compelled to read. I also get annoyed when people answer my hard questions about the OT with "Just read the NT." Or "Why are you reading other people's mail?" type answers. I explained this to my father and mother today and my dad gave this Hilarious interpretation of the Old Testament for me. It went something like "In the Old Testament we learn that if we want to take over a nation we just pray and God anhilates (sp?) and then we can take anything He tells us we can take and if we take anything he tells us not to take he will annhilated US." I love his irreverence. Back to teaching kids Revelation (or as Espanolas call it, "Apocolyptica" or something like that.) Any thoughts, 666?