*sploosh* goes the sun

It didn't fall into the ocean tonight like it used to when I was spreading my wings. Tonight it fell on a hill, past the science building, and through the leaf-bare and brittle maples outside my window. I'm glad I have a window to the west.

First, picture a furry orange tabby cat exploding onto a bed of picked-apart cotton balls (and I hope you picked the name 'Samantha' for her, because it is only fitting).

Now erase that image because it is disturbing (but for some it sounds lovely).

Now imagine the first seeping of color from the painbrush into a glass water cup after painting a picture of Samantha, the orange tabby. Or, picture the tea escaping from an Orange Chai tea bag into an already-warmed cup of milk. Oh! Look! Miss Pastel Pink has entered the scene from the top of the stage. She's just dancing there on top of the fur and orange chai, but she'll twirl right into the mix of action anytime now. And Llilac? I didn't know Lilac was envited this evening. Lovely to meet you, Lilac. Welcome.

Only a minute has passed now but the streaming white has separated into bigger chunks. I have a feeling that the sun has just exhaled. The screaming orange and flamboyant red were the point of no return, like when you think the tunnel will never end and your eyes are about to pop out of your head if you don't take a breath. Now the sun can breathe again...in China.

The ironic part of it all: I watched the sunset through my window hanging of a stained glass cross. I had to look through it to see the vibrancy of the sky. Why? Because something on the other side seemed better than the cross. But, the sun is gone now. The sky is black. The brittle trees even blend into the night sky. And my cross still hangs.

carnage

Well, here he is, Melvin the Incredible. Was it his name that doomed him? I'm not sure if this is the result of foul play or sheer sunshine. I've never disliked the sun so much. The sun killed Melvin. Let us all take a moment of silence.....Ok. Thank you, fellow advocates for a colder environment. 

Melvin

There he sits...alone on the bench, just outside my dorm room window. I would have sat down beside by him, but he was leaking. The next couple of days are going to be quite depressing as I watch Melvin cycle back into the atmoshpere. Circle of life, I guess.

 

flawless routine

"It's not only how he presents her, it's also how she responds to that presentation."

I heard this from the announcer last night as I was watching olympic ice dancing. He was talking about the couple on the ice, obviously. But...his comment got me thinking. That same line of thinking can easily be applied to the Church. How does she respond to the movement of God? What is her technical score? What does her routine look like? Is it tight, in-line, flawless?

The best part of this analogy is this: it's not just about her, the Bride, the Church. Ice dancing takes two people. The lady alone looks lost, incomplete, and just plain silly without her partner. So does the Church. She would just be dancing out there, swinging her arms and legs around, holding on to nothing. She would probably fall. The guy and gal are judged together and scored together on the rink. The Church partners with God and responds to Him. He presents her, but how will she respond?

Did you know that the ice dancing couple loses points for every second they are not touching? I know nobody is keeping a tally, but what would the Church's score look like if we counted the seconds she is disconnected from movement of God?

I hope we see roses on the rink after our ice dance.

if an if was a skiff

What if orange Tic Tacs tasted like carrots?

They look like carrots, but would they taste good with ranch dip?

Probably not...

recently...

I just ate 5-8 Double Stuf Oreo Cookies. (I deliberately did not count them, for obvious reasons.) I've never wanted to go to the dentist more in my life.

This weekend I discovered that I have a deep intrest in Chinese poetry, especially from the "Middle Period," and especially T'ao Ch'ien and Tu Fu. If China had cowboys, these guys would be the Pecos Bills and John Waynes.

My dad painted the floor of the garage with khaki paint, whereupon he used an eggshell and black speckle to add dimension and durability-- Because everybody knows that the "garage is just another room of the house where you park you car." I love my dad.

I also discovered that the words "disposable income" raise my blood pressure and cause my stomach to churn.

The "average propensity to consume" in the USA is 105%. That is disgusting. (I'm actually learning something in Basic Economics... who knew?)

God is calling a lot these days. I shouldn't screen my calls so often. I like hearing from Him.

Flora and I have a new message on our answering machine that goes a little something like this: "Hello, KLRC, you're on the air..." BEEP.

signage

This sign was posted on the podium in my Masterpieces of Literature class:

To All Would-Be

Commode- Cloggers

Four-Flushers

Throne-Blockers

&

Toilet Vandals:

Remember,

GOD

IS

WATCHING!!!

_______________________________________________________

Aren't our lit profs just so great? I mean, who posts something like that? Apparently over-flow is a big problem in the Lit department.