One weirdish thing about me is that I'm totally fascinated with books, movies and music about drug addictions and severe psychological problems. Most of my favorite books have some element of these things. Well I was reacquainted with a movie yesterday called Girl Interrupted, starring Winona Ryder, Angelina Jolie, Brittney Murphy, Jared Leto, Whoopi Goldberg, and more. I forgot how much I liked it.
It's basically about Susanna (Winona Ryder) who graduates high school and falls into a deep depression. She downs a bottle of liquor and a bottle of medication, hoping to kill herself. She's sent off to a mental institution in hopes to be healed. She ends up befriending a group of fellow patients who all have their own major issues too. One thing I noticed this time around watching it was that Susanna first doesn't want to go to the mental ward- she claims she doesn't have problems. Yet, as the movies goes along and she starts making connections with the other patients and seeing their humanity instead of them equaling their problems. As the film progresses she starts to believe that she's crazy. 3/4 of the way through she even told a guy not to get involved with her because she's crazy. I had never noticed the first few times watching it. Here's a section of the film you can check out. Sorry for the language and crassness of it. I really tried to find a clip that wasn't this crude, but it just wouldn't communicate it well. I especially like Angelina Jolie's character and she reminds me of someone.
If you want to read a great book about this kind of thing, also check out A Million Little Pieces, http://www.amazon.com/Million-Little-Pieces-James-Frey/dp/0307276902/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1234885536&sr=1-1 The Bell Jar http://www.amazon.com/Bell-Jar-Sylvia-Plath/dp/0061148512/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1234885471&sr=1-1, and Go Ask Alice. http://www.amazon.com/Go-Ask-Alice/dp/1416914633/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1234885408&sr=1-2 These are 3 of my favorite books. You can go to these links and see some of the insides of them.
By the way, if you like this kind of movie, check out One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest with early Jack Nicholson. Great film.
So I just got home from a night out with my girlfriends where we saw the movie, "He's Just Not That Into You". The movie in and of itself had a lot of issues, mostly because it was saturated with liberal Hollywood ideals like adultery, sex, homosexuality, and yes even female ministers. (Sorry, had to add that one in). A few times in the movie, they'd show a title that explains different reasons why men might not be into you. It started off mild, like "He's just not into you if he doesn't call you"... but in short time it turned into, "...if he doesn't sleep with you" etc. which is where it got a tad annoying.
The main plot of the movie was about women who THINK men like them because of subtle hints, where in fact those men don't give a hoot about them. It highlights women who, hanging on every word a man says to her, reads into those words and actions much deeper than the man intended. Despite the average acting and fairly predictable plot, I will say I walked away feeling encouraged about one "moral of the story". His point was that if a man wants a woman, he will communicate that. If he wants to be with her, he will find a way. If he doesn't call, doesn't participate, plainly doesn't seem interested, well he's probably not! I like that. To me, it's a call for men to be men and take initiative....or at least to be clear in one way or another and to be more careful about signals they give to women. It seems to be also a call to women to allow men to pursue them instead of falsely presuming they're interested when they're not. To ME, despite all the other wretched sinful lives of the actors in the movie, it actually seemed to try and un-blur the oh-so-blurry lines of dating, chemistry and relationships and to get back to the simple and natural concept of MEN clearly, honestly pursing WOMEN.
Sorry I've been such a putz about writing on this thing. I dunno what's wrong with me. I think I spent so much time writing on it before because I had very large chunks of time to write with nothing else to do and I had more time to look into new subjects to talk about. It's also a lot easier for me to be reflective and write about things when I feel like my life is falling apart. Lately I haven't felt that way, and my peace hasn't provoked any writing because of it.
Tonight though, as I'm sitting here at my kitchen table which is actually in the living room a few minutes before midnight, I'm feeling a little sad. Not because anything bad has happened, actually I can't explain why I'm feeling like this. Someone asked me to find some pictures I took a while back, so I had to search around my external hard drive to find them. While looking at all these pictures I'm reminded of people I love so much and the good times we've had. (Below....) I remember all of the moments that I took those photos or were in the photos. I miss my friends from the States a lot right now. Sometimes I want to say some joke or do something that certain people would find funny or understand. (Like quotes like, "Ande's Racecar!" or "COME 'ERE OTIS!" or "That is hilARIOUS.")
Not that those times and places were perfect, and I don't necessarily wish to go there right now because I really am happy here at the moment--but I do miss those people. At the same time though, I see pictures of my friends who live close to me here and I even miss them too! That's just silly. I'm in one of those moods where I'd rather be around people I like instead of myself. There's a line from a song that's been relevant lately... actually nevermind. I think it's one of those times where I know nothing else to do but try and get through a prayer and sleep, hoping to feel better in the morning. Goodnight.
Not really. Okay, so it's taken me a while to work up the energy to write about my trip to England but I'm gonna do it! It was a pretty interesting trip, mostly for the strange situations that we got into. We left at like 7 a.m. on Tuesday for the airport...wait, that's not strange OR interesting. Umm I went with a friend named Jan (for you Americans, that's like Yahn, it's a dude, not Jan like the Brady Bunch)..
Right-o, so we were about to go through security and Jan asked if I had the bag for his pasta. I thought it was really strange that he asked me to bring a ziploc for pasta the night before, but I did anyway. Later did I realize that pasta was actually paste, which is actually tooth paste. Aha! So I took it out, gave it to him, and he asked if I had a bag for MY pasta and toothbrush. I said no I didn't need one. He said I had to have one- it's a requirement- especially for all of my liquids... a rule I thought was a bit silly. We got through security with no problem after that, except as I was getting my junk out of the x-ray box, I quickly realized there was a picture of a realistic giant tarantula on the bottom. This made me die a little inside.
We boarded the plane and almost immediately heard the terrifying screams of a young girl, maybe 5, a few rows behind us. During our 2 hour flight, this little demon screamed like a banshee and kicked the back of the seat for like 45 minutes, like someone was torturing her! It was really disturbing. I lost my patience about 3 minute after her screams started, and had a really hard time not reaching back there and smacking the crap out of her. I considered giving her my iPod to watch Ice Age 2 but Jan told me not to.
We had to go through my favorite part of the airport, customs! I was excited to talk to officials who actually spoke English. Jan went through the EU citizens long huge line with the screaming kid while I went to the express "other" line. She asked me for my passport, so far so good. Then she gave me the 3rd degree about why I was in England and why I was living in Slovakia. She concluded it was silly for me to "give up graphic design to teach English". She obviously missed a part of that story. She asked me for my return ticket--which I didn't have-- then she asked for an address of where I'll be staying--also didn't have. She made me sit down and not say anything and I couldn't use my phone to get that info. Ok really long story really short, (cause this blog entry is becoming super long) she was SO MEAN to us and it took so long to get through customs cause she thought we were traveling backpacking terrorists. Ugh, stupid lady.
As we were rushing out of the airport to get the bus outside the terminal, I noticed a Starbucks (which has become a true sight for sore eyes for me). With my eyes on the beautiful green logo my body continued to keep running out the door. We got to the bus stop and realized our bus wasn't there yet. So with wide eyes and a giant smile I ran back in the airport to get my quad espresso over extra ice with a splenda (except they didn't have splenda which made the drink nasty) and a sweet mug I've been wanting for a while.
We boarded the bus, found our seats and were excited to see the English countryside. Very quickly I noticed that the bus driver was actually a retired race car driver and drove our gigantic tour bus like he did in the good ol' days on the racetrack. This, of course, triggered a relapse in carsickness. What makes the roads we traveled different from normal roads and intersections in the States is that instead of traffic lights, you usually have round-a-bouts. These are fun in a small car going slow, but not so much fun when you're sitting in the back of a bus going way too fast around about 89 of these in a row.
We got dropped off in Cambridge by the bus, except we totally forgot to a) print out a map of Cambridge, b) get Anya's address c) get numbers for a taxi and d) highlight the route from the bus stop to her house. Long story short, we ended up just getting a cab to our hostel. The cab driver informed us we were probably getting ripped off because they didn't serve breakfast. This definitely calmed my nerves. Anya came over and we walked to an Indian restaurant like 100 ft. from the hostel and then went to get a drink next door. As we were playing pool in a room in the back, these two teenage girls came in, sat down, and played pop music on the speakerphone of their cell. They sang along to them too, which was a lot of fun to listen to, especially after paying for the jukebox to play some of my own songs. Later they came up to us and were like, "Hey you guys are cool, can we have a picture with you?" Anya and I both wanted to say, "Look, if you want a picture with Jan we can just move out of the way."
For the next few days we spent a lot of time touring the beautiful sites of Cambridge. We saw some super old buildings, schools, statues, museums and shops. It was really nice! We also found this Cafe Nerro which was an English coffee shop chain of some sort- my mint mocha was fabulous. We also ventured the long walk to Anya's sister's house where she's living temporarily. We had a few lovely dinners there and enjoyed their super cute apartment. For New Years we went to their house. There wasn't a TV and I couldn't find a live London countdown, so I found a clock online and we had our own countdown. :)
Something I really really enjoyed about Cambridge was how much English was everywhere! How refreshing that was for me to just be able to ask people questions, get directions, and KNOW exactly what I'm buying at the grocery store. That was so nice for me! Except I kept saying "Dakujem" (Thank you) after buying something at the store, which I'm sure made the clerks a bit confused.
It was time for us to go so we made our way to the bus stop... except, what appeared to be a huge bus on the map, was actually NOT the bus stop as I had anticipated. We had just walked like 30 something minutes to get there. After asking a few people where the main bus hub was, we realized we were on the wrong side of town! Fortunately we had plenty of time to spare. As we walked to the real bus station I was kicking myself in the pants for directing us in the wrong direction--I hate that! While beating myself up, my camera strap unclipped and my camera crashed onto the pavement with a loud, CLASH. As time stood still watching the camera plummet to it's doom, I heard it squeal," ....nooo you dropped me you fool!" This made me feel even BETTER about myself!
We waited at the real bus stop for a while until it was time for Anya to go. Our bus was to leave at 6:40 pm. Well, it was 6:38 and no bus (usually they come a few minutes early). We asked a bus driver if he heard of any delays. She looked at our ticket and said, "You're at the wrong bus stop guys." Our jaws dropped. "You're supposed to be at **such and such** bus stop. That's like a mile or so down that way." Jan said, "BUT WE ONLY HAVE 2 MINUTES!" After an uncaring look from the driver, we took off running down the road in the direction she pointed with all of our luggage. We eventually arrived at another bus hub and we frantically started asking everyone which bus they were waiting for and if ours had arrived yet. No one knew anything and we were freaking out! Eventually we found out from someone that the driver was late and we were okay. We both just about collapsed with joy.
The drive back to the airport was even worse than the first one. Apparently there are more than one retired indy car racers in the English bus system. I wanted to throw up so many times, it was ridiculous. At one point I went to the bus bathroom (which is about 2 ft. x 2 ft. in diameter). I was thrown against the walls and window, making a huge racket as my head met the plastic walls--except the engine was so loud that Jan didn't hear it. So when I walked out, laughing, he didn't know why. As I went to sit down, the bus driver thought it would be funny (HA....HA) to sharply and quickly turn the wheel, throwing me against the window near my seat. GOOD TIMES!...not.
We had one transfer for our bus ride in the middle of nowhere. This was fabulous, especially since it was probably 20 degrees out or less, and we had to sit outside on a bench for an hour and a half. It's been a while since I've been that cold. Eventually the stupid bus came again and took us back to Birmingham. (This ride was better, as I sat in the front seat and watched Grey's Anatomy and cried a little when the doctor almost died...I digress...). We arrived at about 11 p.m., but our flight wasn't until 6 a.m. the next morning. The airport WAS FREEZING I tell you, unbelievably cold. We found a big half circle restaurant bench and tried to catch some sleep before the flight. At about 4 we got up and got our tickets. Our flight back was miserable. This stupid little kid wouldn't not crying (DEJA VU RIGHT!?!?), I was ridiculously tired, I needed a shower, the nosepiece on my glasses had broken so my glasses were digging into my nose, I was cramped in the seat, and Ryan Air thought that among all of this, I would want to actually hear their radio-style advertising about how great their airline is being blasted from the loud speakers into my ear. I almost lost it. Seriously.
Anyhoo we got home and I fell asleep at noon till that evening. I didn't mean for this story to be so dang long, but oh well. So you must be wondering, will I ever visit England again? Well, maybe. Here's my official opinion as of this morning on this day: I could live in England easily (except the whole driving on the wrong side of the road thing- sucky!), but honestly I don't know if I'll travel there JUST to travel, like, from the States. The reason is, when I think of traveling I want to see places that are really different from what I'm used to. That's what makes traveling so flippin' interesting! Living there would be a piece of cake, but traveling, maybe not. For the record, I'm really really glad I went! It was great to see Anya and spend time there, it was great to see so much English, and it was great to have a little adventure.
Whenever I think of our 5 senses (sight, touch, smell, hear, taste) I remember my 2nd and 3rd grade teacher (we had two classes in the same room) Mrs. Knorr teaching us with charts and and cards. Those images came to mind over this past week, as I felt within a 1 or 2 day period I had unintentionally satisfied all of them.
By satisfied I mean to say that the minimum quota was filled. If my senses were an empty glass, it would have been replenished to the brim. I believe when we are discouraged most in our lives, when our existence feels meaningless, numb and sterile, we ought to seek to fill our senses, each one of them, as quickly as possible. When you can't remember the last time you've seen, touched, smelled, heard or tasted something beautiful---something that makes your heart melt just a little bit---it's time to get up and seek it; because when you do, you'll be reminded that we have one life- one chance- one shot to soak up as much of it as you can before it's too late. No?
So I felt satisfied this past week as I reflected on these things and ways in which my body soaked up my surroundings. We went to hear a beautiful orchestra and chorus play the music of Bach. We sat on the balcony and as I closed my eyes and listened to the participants belt their voices and play their instruments, the echoes bounced against the ceilings and into my ears. My hearing sense was being overwhelmed.
Before the concert they instructed us to come get chairs to sit on, since we did not have tickets. We walked down two annoyingly long hallways to get our own chair to sit on, which in my mind was pretty ridiculous. Anyway, as we approached the end of the last hall, I realized that we were walking into an ornately designed chapel. That word can't describe the beauty of this room though. It was completely dark and quiet, except for the shadow of a priest in his meditation, and the light that was shining from the hallway. Every inch of the walls were covered in detail. My eyes were overwhelmed with beauty!
An occurrence much less beautiful, though equally satisfying (as odd as this sounds), I was walking around Ikea with a friend the day before and I just sat there and smelled the wonderful candles. Each one was so unique and so beautiful, and being surrounded by all the items I one day would like to fill my home with, those smells sparked images of my future with a family and a house. (That MUST be a chic thing cause I could never imagine a guy doing that...maybe if he smelled Lowes Home Improvement or cut grass?).
I say this not to boast, mind you, but sometimes in a great while I eat food that makes my soul smile. Since I know what kinds of foods I enjoy, I use those ingredients in my dishes. I made that pork/bacon/veggie stuff with nice pasta and alfredo sauce (with really expensive cheese) drizzled heartily with balsamic glaze. For dessert we had a 3 layer cheesecake with a ganache topping. It's not the most amazing food out there, but it makes me happy to eat it. So my taste buds were satisfied here, definitely.
The feeling of cold air to me is so nice, especially on a nice brisk evening when I'm in a good mood and walking by myself. The other night I was walking by myself at night listening to my iPod, and the feeling of that cold air was just so refreshing and automatically put me in a good mood. My touch senses were being filled as well.
Anyway, I don't have too much of a point to this, except to say that it's important to fill your senses once in a while, whatever that might look like. Have any recent experiences where you've done this and it's refreshed you?
Recently I've been enjoying soup for dinner... which is pretty unusual for me because I'm not a huge soup consumer. By the time I get home from the Building it's usually a strange hour past dinner but before bed and I'm hungry, but I don't want a big meal.
I made some french onion soup from scratch the other night which was actually pretty flippin' decent, but it made my stomach hurt SOOO bad, I was like doubled over in pain. So, so much for that!
But Petra made this yummy yummy creamy garlic soup the other day for a group dinner at my house. I've been eating it almost every night and it's reeeeally good. So I put some freshly grated Parmesan, fresh basil and breadcrumbs on top, drizzled with Texas Pete hot sauce to kick it up a notch. OH! And this is one of the bowls I bought from Ikea which could make a piece of poop look like a gourmet meal. Ew... or not, nasty.
“In the name of the best within you, do not sacrifice this world to those who are its worst. In the name of the values that keep you alive, do not let your vision of man be distorted by the ugly, the cowardly, the mindless in those who have never achieved his title. Do not lose your knowledge that man's proper estate is an upright posture, an intransigent mind and a step that travels unlimited roads. Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it's yours.”
Ayn Rand quotes (Russian born American Writer and Novelist, 1905-1982)
So here's a project I'm working on. I'm not 100% on this design, but really the design doesn't matter too much. I'm raising money for a nice computer and computer programs for The Building. I'm doing this because right now their computer is ancient--and my goal is to leave them completely self sufficient when I leave as far as their advertising goes- so when they need to design a flier or t-shirt or update their website they can and they won't have to spend a ton of money to go somewhere else. So 10 months from now my goal is to have everything completely running from their computer and not mine. They'll have Adobe CS2 or CS3 and I hope the entire Macromedia set which includes Flash too (that's a gift from me though).
Oh, and Pokrok means progress in Slovak.
I was taking a shower this morning and used some of my Dr. Bronner's All-In-One soap, which has become a favorite soap of mine to use. It is biodegradable, vegetable based, fair trade, organic, multipurpose, no preservatives or synthetics, blahdy bladhy blah, whatever, it works (especially while backpacking and traveling... I recommend the peppermint).
Anyway if you've ever spent more than a second looking at the label of Dr. Bronner's soap you might notice something a little different about it. What you might notice is that a pseudo-cult leader "doctor" has designed the soap. My favorite part about their website is when they call Earth, "Spaceship Earth".
Here's an excerpt from their crazy bottle labels: "Replace half-true Socialist-fluoride poison & tax-slavery with full-truth, work-speech-press & profitsharing Socialaction! All-One! So, help build 4 billion Hannibal wind-power plants, charging 96 billion battery-banks, powering every car-factory-farm-home-monorail & pump, watering Babylon-roof-gardens & 800 billion Israel-Milorganite fruit trees, guarded by Swiss 6000 year Universal Military Training..." Yeah, I don't have it in front of me so I can't tell you the other insane things they talk about.
So that got me thinking... by buying this soap am I financially supporting crazy cults? Which also got me thinking, where is the line on what we buy from whom and how our buying their products supports their bad causes? Wal-Mart supports a TON of things I very much disagree with, and so does Target and Disney and Starbucks and just about any other large liberal company out there. But does that mean we should boycot any and all companies who financially support causes we disagree with? Where do we draw the line?
I have no answer to this, rather I just wanted to post the question and see if anyone had any thoughts on it.
Oh, and it's my 200th post... sweet!
I'm a little out of it which means I probably shouldn't write on this thing, but oh well! I dunno, I'm kind of in a temporary funk actually. It hit me during our staff meeting a few minutes ago when I saw on the projector screen that a lot of the staff is leaving for the holidays. That leaves me home alone for like almost a month too. There are some families that will be here and also my Slovak friends but I presume they'll want to spend a lot of that time with their families--which I didn't really think about before! Being alone on Christmas, one day, isn't a big deal but I wonder how much time I'll be alone for a few weeks. Hmmm. Interesting. I wonder if I should visit someplace or somebody in Europe or something? I dunno, we'll see.
The times I feel most overwhelmed isn't when I have too much to do, it's when I have a lot of stuff to do that I don't really know how to do... like expense reports, design projects for people that I'm confused or uninformed about, etc. So all of the sudden I'm feeling a little stressed about stuff for some reason. Anyhoo, I'm gonna go get in on an English lesson or something.
www.invisiblechildren.com
If you haven't seen this screening and have a chance to, go watch the entire film.
Well, I'm starting week #2 in Trnava and I thought I'd write a little something. Honestly I don't have anything specific to talk about but I wanted to check in for those of you far away who want to see how I'm doing. If you're interested, and haven't seen it yet, check out my facebook photos as well as my Slovakia blog (listed to the right) for more details.
In general I'm doing pretty well. I was telling one of my many bible study groups the other night that I felt like I was still sort of in the twilight zone. My body's here but my brain hasn't quite caught up to myself yet, if that makes sense. I asked them to pray that when reality hits, it won't hit me too hard and the transition will be alright.
I haven't had any horrible experiences yet really. I've had a few interesting confrontations with strangers and a little sick here and there, but yeah- all in all pretty well. Hey actually I think I'm going to write a more detailed account on my SK blog (www.andetrumanslovakia.blogspot.com), so check that out if you're interested! And come to think of it, I think I'm not going to write general updates on this blog. This one is for more personal and random stuff- cool?
....SUCKS! Okay, it's not that packing for that long is hard, per se. What's hard is that each bag can only weigh 50 lbs. and I could easily get 100 lbs. in each bag! I'm so frustrated with this. Not only do I have to pack everything I need in 2 bags, but I have to make boxes labeled "Someday send me", "Don't send me" and "Send me now". The "Send me now" I'll send on Monday to myself. Everything else I own I have to box up and store it in the attic. So it's not just packing for a trip, it's like moving too!
So a few days ago I weighed my bags and both were 15 lbs. overweight and I didn't even put in books OR shoes yet. So I was thinking I'd just pay to have it too heavy, but that would cost me $250. So poo on that. Anyway I finally got my bags under 50 lbs. but I'm leaving behind so much stuff I want and I don't like that feeling.
Oh by the way, when you weigh yourself, do it on a hard surface and not carpet. I was weighing myself to weigh my duffle bag and it said I had gained a JUNK load of weight in the past 10 months. So for 2 days I was so depressed! Then I thought I should weigh myself on a hard floor... well the story doesn't end that great because I still gained some weight, but half as much as I thought I did. So yeah, lesson learned.
Here's a stack of my clothes that I started out with after filtering once- it's like 1/3 of that now. :(
Well tonight I've got some major hickups and can't sleep, so I decided to write a little something. Friday night I took my 8 year old nephew to see one of my all time favorite bands, Skillet. I've seen Skillet at least 12 or 13 times, but every time I see them they're just cooler and cooler in my book. This was Dylan's first concert ever, and something tells me he'll never forget it!
Ok sorry, I just got lost watching Skillet YouTube videos for a long time... I'm back.
Anyway, John Cooper, the sexy -- I mean, talented singer always has a mini-speech in his concerts. They're always good and they always stick with me. I realized last night as I was listening to one of his speeches, for the 12th or 13th time, that over the 10 years or so that I've listened to them and seen them live, there's a theme. This theme has been influential in my faith actually- and explains some things about my beliefs.
Here's the theme that John drives home in his music and speeches: It doesn't matter what you look like, what clothes you wear, how many piercings or tattoos you have, whether you have a mohawk or however you look different...Jesus takes you just exactly as you are. You're His child and what matters is your heart and if you're living for Him, loving Him and loving people.
That's made a big impact on how I view people and also how I view coming to Christ. Coming from a background that judges people on appearances and social expectations more than anything else, this is a radically different point of view to live out. It seemed growing up that I believed you almost had to "clean up" before you "get saved"--now I don't see it that way at all.
Anyway, I thank John Cooper and his lyrics, his music, his band, and his testimony of faithfulness as he lives out the faith in this music ministry. I wish them nothing but success in continually sharing the Gospel in unique and effective ways to the youth of the world.
Now I'll leave you with sexy pictures... (Hey my hiccups are gone, sweet.)
Do you see that sweat on his guitar strap!? Hot.
What is the purpose of democratic voting?
This is the question I've pondered for months. Is the purpose to give citizens a sense of belonging and power? Is it designed to show what the majority of the people want, therefore making it a citizen run country? In voting for something as important as a president, should we vote for those who have the most experience? Should we vote for what's best for the country as a whole? Are we allowed to be "one issue" voters, or is that naive?
When it comes to voting in the US presidential elections, I've been back and forth as to whether or not I gave a crap about it. I even considered not voting because I didn't want ANY of them to win. This was many months ago and my opinion has changed several times since then.
First, I'll be up front by saying that over my dead body would I ever vote for someone as detrimental to this country and the world as Barack Hussein Obama. Never has a liar so manipulative, so unqualified and heartless been able to rise to the ranks of a presidential nomination. The fact that he's come this far says a lot about our nation and how we are being judged by God Himself. Now, my mom happens to think that he's a terrorist antichrist who needs to be assasinated... of which opinion I do not necessarily hold, no matter how much I don't like him.
There is much I could say about him here, but I'll hold back for the sake of you guys holding interest in what I'm talking about. If you don't believe me that he has no relevant experience in running a nation, do some research and stop being stubborn.
What has really been on my heart lately is his stance on abortion. There in lies the fundamental difference between pro-lifers and pro-choicers. Pro-choicers believe a fetus is nothing special- nothing more than a useless mass of cells that can easily be destroyed with no consequence. Pro-lifers believe that fetuses and newborns are actual humans with actual souls.
There's so much about abortion I could talk about, but let me get to my point. Let me say why if Obama gets elected, he will continue passing laws of infanticide and mass murder. Obama was the ONLY SENATOR, (not the only democrat, the only person, period) who passed a law that would allow babies who were born from partial birth abortions to have their medical treatment withheld. If you don't realize the reality of that, let me break it down in an example: a woman comes in 7 months pregnant and decides she can't afford to have a child right now. The doctors induce labor, poke a large instrument in her, and yank out the fetus. The mother goes away while the doctors help her heal. The baby is either tossed in a basket of soiled cloths, or left on a cold metal table to die. This is not a deceased child either, this is a living, breathing, crying child. It lays there until it dies.
One nurse who came forward to try to stop this process says she heard a baby cry for 8 hours on one shift until he or she had died.
I'm sorry if that was graphic, but it's reality. This is really happening in America. This goes so far and beyond a "morning after pill" or an immediate abortion after conception. This is absolute and clear murder.
I challenge any democrat out there who claims to be a Christian to sit and ponder this. I want them, in clear a conscience, to be able to tell me that they have no problem voting for a man who fights for this "right" for women to "choose" and to not be "punished" by a child. Tell me in clear conscience that you can claim the truths of scriptures and also vote for a man who promotes infanticide.
So this brings me to my next quick point. I kept thinking: "I want to vote for Ron Paul because his politics make sense- I want to be a part of revolutionizing our government! Who cares if he loses, at least I'll feel good about voting for someone that I want, not that all other republicans want. Who cares if it's not strategic, my vote realistically doesn't mean anything."
Well, I've changed my mind. Someone told me a few weeks ago, "Any vote that is not for McCain is a vote for Obama." I didn't want to hear it, but it's true. So now I say that I cannot with a clear conscience use my vote to help Obama in any way, as indirect as it sounds. I'll sacrifice my feelings of choice and empowerment for the possibility of putting a man in office who adheres to the human relevancy of the bible.
When I see people with Obama stickers and t-shirts, etc. (especially "Babies *or Mothers* for Obama" stickers...how ironic) it bothers me, but it's their choice to vote for who they see fit. However, when I hear about people who are voting for him just because he's black, or say something like, "I'm voting for him because he's gotten so many people to get out and vote who have never cared about voting", or "...because he's going to bring a change to this country and plus, I like this enthusiasm"... it doesn't just bother me, it infuriates me! It is SCARY that millions of stupid Americans who never cared about voting before are now voting because of these superficial reasons. Listen people, that's NOT a positive change!! People like this shouldn't be allowed to vote because they're acting on impulse, emotion, and racial dedication! Funny thing is, I'd be a racist if I said, "I'm not voting for Obama b/c he's black" or "I'm voting for McCain b/c he's white"... how backwards!
Will Obama win? Probably. Do I want McCain as my president? Not really, I don't like him all that much. But to be honest, it doesn't matter. Whatever Obama brings to this nation- whatever laws he passes that kill more innocent lives, or when he brings Socialism to this country--whatever happens to us, we deserve it. We can expect no other judgment on America than what we deserve. Blind nationalism plagues this country and because of it, we can expect to be brought to our knees until we realize we are not invincible.
I don't ask God to bless this country (and I won't put up a "God Bless America" bumper sticker either). All I ask is that He have mercy on us as we continue to blatantly disobey Him and put our trust in the Obamessiah.
So.... to become a member of my church I grew up in, you're required to be baptized and give your testimony to the congregation. I never knew this was rare until I started going to other churches. Most places, you say you want to be a member and you're in. Not here! Nope, you have to write down how you came to the faith and make a public proclamation about your beliefs. Needless to say, it's taken me 25 years to do this because it's pretty intense and intimidating to speak like that in front of a few hundred people listening to every word you say! But I did.
To be honest I was dreading it for weeks. I really hate public speaking and it makes me so stressed and nervous to just think about it- so now that it's over I'm really relieved. I gave my testimony with 5 other young people around my age. It was kinda nice to be with my friends in front of everyone. People were crying the whole time, which made me want to cry but I didn't, thank goodness.
ANYWAY! I figured, hey, if anyone should know my testimony, it should be my friends, right? So here's my story (written as it would be read in front of my church):
Many of you sitting here tonight may not know exactly who I am, so I'd like to start off by introducing myself. Most of you were either friends with, aquatinted with, or at least have heard the name of my father, Jim Truman. My mother is Susan Melillo, and my step-father is Tom Melillo.
If you knew my father, for me to start off saying "I grew up in a Christian home" may sound like an understatement. I have spent the majority of my life in this church, and have been under the preaching of Gary Hendrix and the other elders as far back as I can remember.
My family moved from upstate New York to Mebane in 1985, mostly because of this church. In 1993, when I was 9 years old, my dad passed to be with the Lord, leaving 3 children and a wife behind. My father's death has shaped the person that I've grown up to be.
For the majority of my pre-teen and teenage years, I felt quite lost and unconfident in my faith. I went through phases of rebellion, mostly by way of sibling influence. I have never truly doubted God's existence. I've always said, "The grass is green and God is God." There has never been a time where I knew He was not present, and there has never been a time that I questioned the earth's creation and how it came to be. However, even though I've always been confident of His presence, I have not always been confident in my assurance of salvation. I had always believed that because I was not as biblically knowledgeable as others around me, especially my peers who grew up in this church, that I somehow was lacking God's acceptance.
For me to give you an exact date of my conversion would very difficult. I simply do not know the exact time in my life when I accepted Jesus Christ, because it has been a very gradual growth in the faith. However, experiences and milestones scattered throughout my life have been monumental in my maturity.
During a family conference when I was 14, I experienced a plea from a close family friend to come to the Lord. I thought I was already saved at that time, but there was something more significant about this day. I remember simply asking the Lord to give me the assurance I needed and to show me if I had been saved. When I was 16, I traveled with the youth of this church to the Dominican Republic on a mission trip to build a house for a pastor. This was the first time I had felt a strong desire for missions. When I was 18 and moved away to college, I struggled with loneliness and spiritual apathy, though I found that this was a time where I was forced to rely upon God as the only one that would never leave me or forsake me, like so many friends had already done. When I was 20 I moved to Orlando, Florida. The first year there was the most difficult time in my life. I struggled with severe depression and anxiety, and eventually came to a point where I was angry with God. The ironic thing about this anger was that it came from reading a popular Christian book that described the perfect attributes of God. "If God is so perfect, then where is He and why isn't He helping me?" I thought to myself. Despite this unexplainable anger, I still could not and did not deny Him, and He did not forsake me. Over months of counseling and prayer, I began to find myself being renewed and spiritually alive again.
Since 2000 on that first mission trip with this church, I have traveled to different countries and assisted short term mission teams to spread the Gospel. It has only been in the last year, since my most recent trip to Slovakia, that the Lord has completely turned my heart upside down about HOW I should serve Him. It has been in this past year that God has really opened my eyes to His goodness. He has used His calling for me to serve Him in missions to completely and totally depend on Him alone for direction and provision. I feel like I have surrendered my future and all of my plans to Him, so that I can use myself in whatever way He pleases. It has been a life-changing experience to sit in the passenger seat of my life.
It is only by the sheer grace of our Heavenly Father that I have been able to overcome my rebellion and anger against Him. There is no other logical explanation for me, or any of us to turn from sin, other than Jesus Christ and his abundant mercy. It is not by my own works or my own decisions. I am confident that the Enemy will continue to shake my confidence in the Lord until I die, and I know I will fall at times; but I believe that because Christ died on that tree, my salvation is assured, my future is in His hands, and nothing can take away that love from Jesus Christ.
...this is at the top of my list. Joe Van Gogh, AKA Cup a' Joe's coffee shop in Hillsborough, NC. Since I've been back in February, I've visited this place 1-3 times a week- to do fundraising, to read and relax, or just to stop in for a delicious cup of espresso. This place means a lot to me for three reasons- 1) Well, we've been through a lot together! On the days I didn't think I would make it back to SK and was lonely and depressed, on the great days everything was going well, and everything in between. I got to know the baristas and they always knew my drink- the same thing every time just about. Dylan would stamp my frequent drink card like 4 or 5 times for 1 drink 'cause I was nice to him and he was quitting soon. 2) The espresso was unbelievably good, especially for this area. It was such a comforting thing to soak up that strong, sweet, smooth espresso. 3) It's in a city that hardly anyone in my city travels to. Hillsborough has always been that "Why would I go there?" kind of places for me till I explored and found some excellent places. It's kind of a hole in the wall town, very cute. I would see many of the same people every time I went there and it made me, in a weird way, proud to live close to it.
Here's one seat I usually sat in...
So though this is probably boring for you to read, I felt compelled to pay tribute to my second favorite place back home (the first being Chestnut Ridge!). I will miss this place.Here's one of my many frequent drink cards I racked up...
Yes I know this is totally unnecessary and you all get the point that I'm leaving (or coming, depending on where you live)... but I just got this in the mail and I had to share it! Like I said, we got a crazy deal on this ticket- $492. That's INSANE because the CHEAPEST going rate for a one-way ticket to Bratislava is $1860!!! In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they threw me in the cargo area or told me my seat was actually the toilet. Either way, as long as me and my luggage get there I'll be fine. It makes me gitty to look at this :)
Once in a while I'll sing a hymn and not realize how awesome it is till I shutup and read it. I imagined someone reading this passionately, like in spoken word, and rediscovered how great it is. I encourage you to take a minute to read it slowly--much better that way.
"Be Still My Soul"
Be still, my soul; the Lord is on thy side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul; thy best, thy heavenly, Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.
Be still, my soul; thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul; the waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.
Be still, my soul, though dearest friends depart
And all is darkened in the vale of tears;
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrows and thy fears.
Be still, my soul; thy Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.
Be still, my soul; the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul; when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.
I was going to write another ranting and raving serious blog entry about politics but I'll take a break and show you my new camera I just bought online instead. I've been thinking about a new little camera since I got a really really crappy one for my birthday (no offense, mom) and have been researching them for a while now. Anyway I wanted something that takes good pictures but doesn't cost as much as my Nikon D80, something I can throw in my backpack every day when I don't want to chance it with Big Mama. I almost went with the Nikon S60 which costs almost $200 MORE than the one I bought here, but after playing with it yesterday I decided that it was overpriced for the quality of picture it took (even though it was totally sexy). So here's the Nikon S600...10 mpx, 28mm lens.
Can I just say something? Well... every time I think about my first sentence I have to think of another one because it's rude--which is kinda the reason I'm so upset. In an indirect way I just made my point. I grow weary of filtering everything I really want to say to people. I mean this as a general statement, even though I have a handful of specific conflicts I'm dealing with right now. One thing that makes conflicts so irritating is that we're so often not allowed to say what we really want- whether what we want to say is brutal honesty, swearing, or just emotional dialogue. We're always restraining ourselves to be the 'better person' or to act sweet.
I know this is Biblical, don't get me wrong, because the Bible talks about the use of the tongue and how we're supposed to restrain ourselves by holding the tongue. Actually, the Bible talks a lot about conflict resolution because conflicts happens all the time and our emotions are tied to them. But in a way, it doesn't make it that much easier sometimes. I live in a country where freedom of speech is advertised, and in a Christian culture where honesty is promoted....but if that's true, why am I never allowed to say what I really want to say? Does that say something about my sinful heart, is that just part of growing in my faith and disciplining my tongue, or does it say something about a Christian generation that is losing the visible fruits of the spirit that Paul speaks of?
I'm not going to vent nearly the amount that's on my chest, but I want to say something about my frustration I have with how difficult it is sometimes to be a Christian. And this is the part I really want to say, in hopes that I don't offend someone or have them question my morals--but what makes being a Christian so hard sometimes isn't "the world", it's other Christians. People who claim they live a life that's pleasing to God, all the while not living out what Jesus taught- to be gracious, forgiving each other, patient with each other, loving people, being peaceful and meek. Instead I see Christians who are too quick to jump on each other's backs in an unloving way, to gossip about each other, to blame shift and judge, to even verbally abuse each other, and my favorite- judging each other based on cultural expectations and traditions. It's like, I already know the world hates me as it did Jesus first, but sometimes I feel more hatred from Christians, which is the sad part. I think back on the times that someone has hurt me to the core of my heart, and it's sad to say that a lot of those relationships have been with Christians. I don't say any of that to bash Christians or Christianity at all, but I see a rift in what 21st century Christianity looks like compared to Biblical Christianity. Maybe the most hurtful part is that I expect that grace from people who claim to have it from Jesus Christ- where "the world" does not.
Personally, I've grown up with two opposite influences- extremely ultra-conservative and extremely ultra-liberal or pagan. Neither are good, and I still have evidence of both sides of this mindset. Most kids grow up with one or the other for the most part, but I've had equal amounts of both. I can tell you first hand that this causes difficulty for people like me who try to shake off bad influences from their childhood to grow in the faith. It's hard- let me repeat that- IT'S HARD. I know some of you, my friends, grew up in similar circumstances and I empathize with you. People who have grown up around a totally Christian family in a Christian home and school and friends don't understand this. They don't know what it means to be influenced heavily by a pagan family and friends, which explains why most of them don't understand why Christians like me have a hard time with certain sins. I don't even care if people understand it, I'm not asking that- and I'm not asking to not be held accountable for visible sins or to have freedom in my sin- but what I AM asking is that people have a little more understanding and patience with other Christians who are on a different page than you--no matter what that looks like. I don't claim perfection, I claim Christ who forgives me of my shortcomings.
Sorry if this offends you.
Recently I've once again been reminded of my feeble human body. Of the many things I've discovered that have been passed down from my dad, the most recent thing I've discovered has been negative- which has been rare. Pennsylvania (and upstate NY) roads are different than the roads I'm used to. They're curvier, windier (are these real words?) and somehow faster feeling. They go up and down and around very quickly. Well my body doesn't like these roads when I'm not the one driving, it seems. In fact I've discovered that I am one of those people who get carsick! Ugh... what a pain. After the first time of getting sick, my aunt yelled, "Your father used to get carsick!!" which I never knew, and went on to tell me stories of how terribly sick he'd get with them.
The only other time I've been carsick was when my friend Abby zoomed me up the mountain roads in Chattanooga, TN. I heard that this problem develops over time when you get older, and it did. So my entire vacation in PA I was carsick on and off. I felt nauseous, lightheaded, and dizzy. So on one of the trips we went to go get something to eat. My cousin has a hummer and I started to get sick while driving- so he let me drive it coming back home! It was pretty sweet. Anyway, I hope this doesn't happen in Slovakia on their country roads cause I won't have my license and wouldn't be able to drive even if I wanted to.
Other embarrassing moment: I was boarding the plane tonight, and my seat was the very first one on the left. I took my book bag off while ducking to sit down and something crazy happened- my bag (which weighs probably 30 lbs. with books and my computer) got caught on my earring! So I set it down and bring my head down to the chair, trying to work it out. It doesn't. I had a hot cup of coffee in my hands and with my head sideways by the seat I ask a fancy businessman to hold my cup. At the same time a cute Indian guy across the row cuts in front of everyone and helps me get my earring out...which holds up the line of EVERYone boarding the plane cause I'm in the front seat. THEN the flight attendant comes over and tugs the crap out of my ear which hurt--this goes on for at least 2 or 3 full minutes which felt like 30. We eventually get it out and realize that the tiny hole in the "handle" which pulls the zipper down got stuck around the screwed in ball of my earring...so we had to unscrew the ball. Anyway, kinda embarassing.
Off topic- does looking at old photos ever make you either really sad or really joyful about something? My aunt Sheryl showed me a bunch of old pictures and I think it's interesting how different pictures gave me such strong feelings about different things. Hmmm...
I had two "first experiences" today, and without trying to make a big deal out of either of them, I want to tell you about what happened cause it was the only really interesting thing to happen to me in a while. First, I gave blood for the first time. I've never been able to because of the African countries that I had visited. I wasn't looking forward to it, but decided to just shutup and do it anyway for the "general good". So I get there and do all the paperwork and sit down in the chair, put on my sweatshirt and hat and turned up really really angry rock music as I prepared to get poked with an enormous hollow needle. I usually make jokes with doctors because I hate being there and especially getting poked and it's my way of coping with it.
So I sit and watch the needle enter my skin and it doesn't feel so great. But the stupid woman couldn't find my vein, so she DIGS the needle a little further and moves it around a bit to find the vein. That angry music is fitting in well now. For like 10 minutes I had to sit there and move this thing around my hand so the blood would flow faster, and it REALLY felt weird---though kinda cool to see my blood flow out.
So whatever, I get done, chit chat with some other people from my chuch and walk to the cookie table. All is well, no problem. I sit down and ask for a diet coke as I look upon the feast of cookies, and especially the peanut butter cookies. I start talking to this guy beside me. He asks how I did and I said good.
Now here comes my second "first time" thing. After I said good, I suddenly felt like crap, like a wave, and I said, "ACTUALLY, I don't feel good!" as I started to lower my head a little. My head went cold and tingly and it felt like someone was pushing me down from my shoulders.
What seemed like the next morning after a long night's sleep, I opened my eyes and everything was blurry. I saw about 7 or 8 dark circular objects in my view. I closed my eyes and thought I was dreaming---opened them wide, and still saw the objects. I couldn't hear anything either. I was lying on my back and mny feet were straight up in the air, being held by a doctor. My vision began to clear and I started to hear something.
"Cough!!" I looked at somebody like they were insane. "COUGH!" she said. So I coughed, not knowing why. I started to hear and see more. All these people were gathered around me, staring at me. I couldn't move for a minute- I had no idea where I was or how I got there--seriously, no lie! It took about 15 or 20 seconds for me to figure out that I had passed out. I eventually had the strength to sit down in a chair and I sat there for like 45 mintes, drinking, eating and making jokes about me fainting till I got normal again. I gotta tell ya, it was the WEIRDEST feeling ever!
I still feel really weird and weak though! Like, all during dinner, an hour after it happened, I couldn't form sentences to my parents well. Anyway, so even though it kinda sucked to get poked and felt really out-of-body and surreal to faint, at least I can now say that I've done these things and I couldn't say that before!
I once heard of this book called, "He's Just Not That Into You". It's written for women who can't take a hint from men when they try to give hints to the women that they don't hate them, they're just not that into them. It's not anything terrible against the woman, it's just that there wasn't a connection, no "chemistry", and it talks about signs you may notice from a man who's maybe trying to communicate that without hurting your feelings.
I've never read this book, mind you, maybe because I read into hints a bit too much - or, I 'take the hint' maybe too easily.
But this idea connects to my single most annoying trait about myself. I hate it, and if you're my friend you probably hate it even more than I do. My problem is that I can't get over things quickly when someone hurts my feelings. I've recently realized that this trait must run in the family, because my mother and sister are the exact same way.
Someone may hurt my feelings, or something stinky happens, and sometimes I won't be able to "get over it" for days and days. This anger or grief makes me literally shut down to the point of extreme laziness and apathy. Sometimes, unless that person apologizes or the situation has been resolved, I easily hold grudges for a long time. I don't mind forgiving people, but if that person doesn't apologize then it's a different story.
Like today for example... a supposed "good friend" proved to me that they didn't want to her about my mission to Slovakia, by requesting to be taken off my e-mail newsletter. To most people this is not a big deal--but to ME, this says they don't want to hear about the most important thing in my life right now, and they simply don't care about it. They're just not that into me and what I'm doing.... which makes it hard for me to break this pattern of noticing that a large portion of people I know just don't give a crap.
Maybe I've read into to it too much, but this is part of why I, Ande, am so annoying because I'm too darn sensitive. Maybe I'm this way because all my life I've been told to basically "Shutup and get over it" for EVERY THING that hurt and my brain is finally like- yeah well I'm NOT gonna get over it, and instead I'm going to complain about it to myself for days just to rebel!
Grrr....I had to get that off my chest, thanks!
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