Friday, September 30, 2011

Operation: Grilled Cheese

I'm not much of a cook. I'd rather bake, eat someone else's food, or read a book - no, seriously.

Also, have you ever noticed that if you get a bunch of women into the kitchen and they all like to cook that a strange tension occurs because they all want to contribute something? Suddenly, you've got a bunch of women fighting over one oven and limited counter space. It's a turn off. Therefore, I steer clear of the kitchen and cooking and lots of women in small spaces.

Anywho. I recently discovered that I like experimenting (in empty kitchens without many women about). I'll take a normal recipe and funk it up (I like doing that with clothing and outfits, too).

Yesterday, I discovered a new favorite cooking experimentation. It includes the following ingredients: onion, garlic, egg, bread, cheddar cheese, butter, and tomato.

Basically, I make a gourmet grilled cheese sandwhich. Saute up the onion and garlic. Drop an egg in the pan with the onion and garlic. Cook it. Remove from the pan.

Then, do the normal grilled cheese deal (I had never made grilled cheese before this time) which means a buttered piece bread with butter side down on the pan and cheese melting on the other side. Once the cheese is sufficiently melted and the bread is wonderfully browned, scoop the bread off the pan. Place sliced tomato on the cheese and then cram the egg mess that you made before on top of this bread-cheese-tomato-conglomeration. Then, put another bread lid onto it. AND SHHHHhhh-bam, you've got a delicous, filling, and semi-healthy meal waiting to be eaten.

So I'm not much of a cook. But, this sandwhich really makes me happy. So you should probably try it or experiment with your own. You know...somebody has probably already created this sandwhich before.

Sunday, September 25, 2011


Lately, my life has been a series of unfortunate events.

1. My phone took a dive into the toilet. Although we resuscitated it with the prescribed rice bed rest, the poor thing suffered a post traumatic stress disorder induced heart attack and died.


2. Phoneless, I got stood up at a date with a friend because I couldn't remind her via text that we were supposed to meet up. It's cool. I'm good at being alone most days.

via (no, i don't smoke)

3. After grocery shopping the other day, a gallon of 2% milk tried escaping my trunk. It did. It escaped, but it's side split as it came in contact with the concrete. The milk gushed all over my shoes and my friend's shoes.


4. I picked up my face wash pump and it slipped from my fingers falling to the floor. The neck of the bottle broke when it slammed into the bathroom floor. I'm just a killer of inanimate objects.

via (poor lil guy)

5. My friends and I went dumpster diving. We came back with a bag full of blue plastic forks and a spidery thing. Dumpster diving...the treasure hunt of college kids. Right. Do you want a blue fork? We've got plenty.


And now, I should stop. Why? Because if I keep writing, eventually I'll have to share all the good things that have happened in the past week or so. Not to mention that complaining can just be plain boring! Hopefully, this has given you a chuckle or two. If it hasn't...then, you'd better go back through this and laugh a little bit more.

I've learned that laughing makes the most terrible situations a little bit better.

so laugh already.


Thursday, September 15, 2011

Rainbow Signature

This morning, I rolled groggily out of bed to go jogging with a friend. As it draws closer to winter, it becomes more and more difficult to get out of bed so early in the morning with the cool darkness still holding the world. My friend and I jogged our usual. At the end of it, we were greeted by a splendid spillage of light streaming forth from the sun’s awakening.

We gasped in awe of the beauty streaking around us. When we turned back to return the way we had come, the contrast of sky struck us. We had jogged from darkness and had run to the light. Unfortunately, our path called us back to the darkness we had run from. As we walked, the light followed us - slowly overpowering the darkness.

As my friend and I approached the place where we would leave the river, a rainbow began its ascent into the sky. Every color of the rainbow stood out vibrantly – even a deep shade of indigo and violet. My friend and I wrapped our arms around each other. Gaping in awe and grinning in giddiness, she and I wondered at this colorful signature of God.

For it could be nothing less. We ran from darkness, but we were called back to it. And with our faithful steps, God promised that He would never leave nor forsake us. And then, HE signed the sky with a full arch of a rainbow and a gossamer gleam of another rainbow.

He is faithful.


Tuesday, September 13, 2011


All of this week, I feel that I have walked around with a permanent crease in my forehead. I have been thinking about what joy is and how it could ever factor into suffering. I don't even know where to begin in all of this.

Recently, I have been musing over blessings and what God's blessing looks like which brings me to the song "Blessings" by Laura Story. Truly, it requires me to redefine what I consider to be blessing.

Another thought bouncing around in my head has to do with Job. A speaker yesterday said, "I've heard other preachers say that it's okay for us to be angry with God because HE can take it. Oh, He CAN take it. Of course, have you ever read Job? God sits him down and takes him to task."

God can taking our yelling. Oh, yes. But, can we take HIS? I don't think so.

Job 40

Friday, September 9, 2011


A small pinprick of light burst through the heavy curtain hanging across the window. The beam firmly landed upon Justin, who curled around his knees with his hands locked in front of his shins. The star of light drilled into the fabric of his shirt. Eyes shut. He felt the slow, incessant warmth of the light on his chest.
Justin’s eyes burst open and zeroed in on the light that glowed on his shirt. His hands tightened and then let go. Uncontained by these clasped hands, Justin exploded into a spasm of movement. Like a gawk-ish and injured adolescent, he leapt towards the window. His breath grunted forth from his lungs. Justin’s hands shook as he gripped the thick blackness overwhelming the window.
Jerking the fabric, Justin tried desperately to pull the curtain back over the pinprick of light that spewed forth. His arms bowed and his back curved making it difficult for him to adjust the blackness. His breath wailed from his lungs and hissed through his teeth. With one mighty pull, Justin tried to shut out the light.
The black fabric gave. A terrible tearing ricocheted throughout the room. Light spilled through the shredded curtain into the blackness of Justin’s created cave. Justin fell to his knees covering his eyes with his hands. His mouth moved frantically but no sound came forth.
The warmth of the light illuminated the piles of crap and puddles of urine that covered the floor. The walls, smeared with excrement, glowed an eerie green-brown. Justin in the presence of the light shivered in a cowering huddle on the floor. Although clothed, Justin’s clothes and skin seemed to be as one.
Eyes clamped firmly shut, Justin reached out desperately for the thick black fabric. A strip languished by the window barely holding on. The rest lay in a heap on the floor near Justin. His wandering fingertips brushed the fabric and like a striking viper, Justin quickly grasped the curtain. Pulling it to himself, Justin rocked onto his heels comforting himself with this thick blackness.
Rising to his feet with his eyes still shut, Justin felt for the pegs that held the fabric. Finding one, Justin looped the curtain onto it. Shuddering, He tried to stretch the fabric to the other side of the window. It did not reach.
Justin squeaked in agony. Hands gripping his shirt, Justin tore the thin fabric. It came apart like tissue paper. He flung the shirt over the other peg. Light speckled through the tattered shirt. Justin moaned. Clawing at his skin, Justin’s nails tore away layer upon layer of dirt and flesh.
With renewed desperation, Justin stumbled into the piles of crap that littered the floor about him. Softening the excrement with the fresh urine, Justin piled bit after bit into the window. He worked methodically. Layer after layer, the room filled again with darkness. Yanking the scrap of dark curtain across the top sliver of light cutting through the excrement, Justin banished the light.
Eyes shut. Justin dragged himself back to the place across from the entrance of light. Crumpling down, Justin locked his hands around his shins. His chin fell to his chest. ........................................

Friday, September 2, 2011

Excusing Senioritis

I'd like to think that I'm an avid observer of the human population. Yes, I am one of those people who would happily discard a good book (and I love reading) to people watch in an air port or even a shopping center. You see all kinds.
Allow me to share an observation and a thought.
This year, I am a senior in college. This does mean that many people have begun to ask me many questions in relation to the future. Let me give you my best answer. I don't know. Now, that we've gotten that figure out, I'll move right along.
As human beings, we have a way of allowing ourselves to permit seniority to fill our brains with dreams of glory and esteem. Suddenly, we think that we are on top of the world (sure we might be on top of our itty-bitty college world but that's nothing). This moment is very dangerous.
This moment is dangerous because if we buy into the idea that we are, in fact, pretty hot stuff, we might begin to believe that the world always meant to hand things to us. Rather than work for excellence in everything we do, we figure that Seniority is enough.
We lose our desire to learn.
We lose our desire to work hard.
In essence, we expect age to matter. We expect seniority to matter. Oh, it does matter. It means that the rest of the school is almost rid of you. If you are expecting everything that you ever desired to fall into your lap, then people might be happy to rid themselves of your slovenly and lackluster ways.
Really?! Get over yourself. Senioritis is so not attractive.
Seniors have the unique opportunity to pour everything that they've learned from previous years into their last year. Also, seniors can reach out and encourage freshman and newbies in ways that they haven't before.
Senior year is not the time to slack off. The end of anything is not the time to slack off. Gosh, darn it. Finish Strong.