Things that are making me happy right now:
1) my new fleece pajama bottoms (on sale!). Never changing out of them.
2) my new TV (thanks mom and dad!)
3) knowing and feeling God's presence... can't explain why or how, but it's like an embrace from an old friend.
4) imitrex - for those ghastly migrianes, as i have suffered 3 this week.
5) coffee - my other old friend. :)

OVERHEARD ON THE SUBWAY THIS MORNING...

This girl's manicures must really hurt.

Girl: I know your nail keeps growing, but does the skin keep growing with it? I mean, it's attached to your skin.

This made the water I was drinking come out of my nose.

me: If I was published, my pen name would be J. Maria Hopkinson.
friend: We have to call you "J. Maria?"
me: Yes.
friend: Your rap name could be JuMama.

Sometimes you come across a song that says exactly what you're thinking.

You love me, but you don't know who I am
I'm caught between this life I lead and where I stand
You love me, but you don't know who I am
So let me go
Just let me go

The Long Walk Home

Last night, I walked down 5th Avenue after seeing the Radio City Christmas Spectacular (which really was spectacular) to catch the subway home. I don't know if it was because I was feeling all warm and gushy inside from the show, but I passed something that punched a hole in my gut and almost made me start crying in the middle of the streets of New York. It wasn't something new, or different, or entirely unexpected, but for some reason it slapped me across the face. As I passed two of New York's big, beautiful churches which line 5th Avenue, I saw homeless people curled up in blankets on the church stoop underneath the archways. And I wanted to cry. I felt it in my gut, in that place deep down where your emotions start from. I felt pity, sadness, and anger. And I thought of the parable of the Good Samaritan, where the priest and the Levite walk by the poor old beat up man, those people who are supposed to show mercy but in reality find themselves too good to help the common beggar. I pity those poor people who have to live like that. I'm sad that we live in a world where most people want the problem to go away but like the priest and the Levite find their own lives too important to get involved with solving such an astronomical problem. Most people, you and I included, just walk on by because we have our own lives to worry about. And I'm angry that we think that's ok. It really pisses me off that most people just want someone else to take care of the problem.

But I walked on by, and got on the subway. Pasted to the wall of the subway car is a little sign with some basic prohibitions. It says the word "Please" then underneath are 3 pictures with the proverbial red circle with a slash through it to show there is no smoking, no littering, etc. on the subway. But next to the word "please," someone had written the word "pray." To which, after taking in the sad sights of 5th Ave, I can only give a resounding "Amen." Not only prayer that asks God to solve the homeless problem, but prayer that asks God to turn our hearts to be part of the solution. That is the bigger feat.

They're back on DVD and they MADE MY DAY!!!

This CRACKED ME UP.

me: sorry you can't make it to my party.
friend: me too. but i can't believe all these excuses people make so they don't have to commit to coming. as if you live in siberia.
me: yeah well, you can't force people to come.
friend: If I can catch the last yak and don't have frostbite on my kidneys, I maaaaaay make it.

drowning
it's all swirling around me
up here, over there
can't breathe
sometimes tears come from choking
sometimes from ache
sometimes both

don't try to fix me
i'm not broken
HELLO

Have you ever had one of those days when your pessimism about something has been proven right and it makes you want to scream?

Thoughts from my journey with Journey for Humanity

Today, a group of young Armenian adults called Journey for Humanity came to New York City as part of their national walking tour to raise genocide awareness and action. They have walked all the way across the country from LA to DC for this cause. We met at St. Vartan Cathedral this morning and walked to Times Square where we stood in somber silence, holding banners, handing out pamphlets, mindful of the history that has killed millions of people, in the midst of one of the busiest places on earth. Our presence in New York City was a bit of an anachronism, a living specimen of history in the eye of a storm of businesspeople, tourists, flashing lights and swirling sounds all whisking around Times Square. It was our walk, though, that made the event so powerful and moving.
When you first start walking somewhere, your mind is on where you’re going. But on a long walk, you begin to stop thinking about that, and sometimes you stop thinking in general. You get lost in your own thoughts. And so as we walked, I started to forget how cold my hands were, or how my feet were hurting, and my mind slowly shifted to the purpose of all this walking. We were walking to raise genocide awareness and action. Some people who passed us asked, “What’s genocide?” The fact that our ancestors, along with millions of other people from other races, have perished as a result of ethnic cleansing and there are STILL people walking the streets of New York who don’t know what the word “genocide” means made my steps more purposeful and my hands a little tighter around the banner I was holding. How can people not know? I thought to myself. How can people grow up not learning about the Armenians, the Jews, the Cambodians, the Bosnians, the Rwandans, and now not be aware of those perishing in Darfur at this very moment? How can people not know that time and time again, the world has turned its back on victims of genocide – or offered too little too late? And with each step I took, I thought about the steps my ancestors took. How their steps were steps toward despair, deportation, desolation and death. And how our steps were steps toward awareness, toward social justice, toward action, toward hope.
I thought about the phrase I was taught as a child: Those who ignore the mistakes of history are doomed to repeat them. Sadly, history’s mistakes have been repeated because perpetrators of genocide have not been held accountable for their crimes against humanity. This is problematic for two reasons. First, it silently allows these crimes to continue. By not holding perpetrators accountable, we are saying that crimes against humanity, the most vile of crimes, are crimes you can get away with. We are permitting them to happen again. Second, by allowing these crimes to recur and by allowing genocide denial and ignorance to continue, we fail to name these events “mistakes.” We fail to show the world that genocide is truly wrong and evil and intolerable. Until the entire world vows to stop perpetrators of genocide, it will continue.
It is thoughts like that, when I look at all that has gone wrong in the world, that make me wonder where the hope is. I asked a mentor of mine this once when I was feeling hopeless. I was working in an urban setting, in a well-to-do church surrounded by homelessness and poverty, and my mentor was criticizing me for making all my sermons too “fluffy” and not addressing the real issues of poverty. I got frustrated and sort of exploded at him. “Well what am I supposed to say? Where is the good news for these people? Their lives are horrible, they live on the street, they are cold at night and don’t have a pot to piss in! Where is the hope?” He looked at me and said, “The hope is in the people’s response. That is the gospel.”
I have taken that with me and it rang true today. The recurrence of genocide all over the world feels hopeless. It is a problem of colossal proportions. But by making people aware of it, we can hope that they will take action. I don’t necessarily have hope that ethnic cleansing and genocide will cease to be a problem in this world. But after today, after seeing the response of the people walking by us on the street, I have a little more hope that the word will spread and action might follow. I have hope that the efforts made today will have a ripple effect. Even though genocide might happen again, I have hope that there will come a point where the world will finally say, “no more.”

Today I did a little march into Times Square with a group of students called Journey for Humanity. (will post on this later) They have walked across the entire country to promote genocide awareness and action. I think because I was so exposed to New Yorkers today, in the heart of the city, my mind was focused on how on earth it could be possible to reach out to the ends of the earth with the gospel.

At 3:00 every day, our cathedral bells ring the Armenian hymn "Krisdos ee mech mer haydnestav" which is translated "Christ is revealed among us." It's sung when we pass the kiss of peace during Divine Liturgy. The hymn is an exuberant expression of the joy and peace that rests in the Christian heart with the knowledge that Christ has been revealed to us and is with us: "Christ has been revealed among us! [The One] Who Is, God, is seated here. The voice of peace has resounded; holy greeting is commanded. This Church has now become one soul; the kiss is given for a full bond. The enmity has been removed, and love is spread over us all..." the hymn goes on, but I thought of those words today as the bells rang over the city. I wondered what these 8 million people would think if you told them that. What if that message was really being delivered to them at 3:00 every day? What would a stranger on the street say if you went up to her or him, gave her/him a big hug, and exclaimed, "Christ has been revealed among us! Enmity has been removed, and love is spread over us all!"? Chances are, they'd think you were nuts. Especially in New York City. But the deeper question is, does our faith actually bring that kind of joy into our hearts? It seems so oxymoronic, in a way, that such eternal joy is hidden in the bells that blend in with the rest of the noise of the city - sirens, horns, yelling, clicking of heels - noises consumed and concerned only with the here and now. Maybe that's our journey as Christ's followers in this world, to find the eternal in the here and now, where heaven meets earth. I think that is where joy resides.

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.


Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.

There are times when nothing says it better than a movie quote.
"I am having the worst damn day of my whole damn life, so if you could just do me a favor and BACK THE F*** OFF!!!!"

-- 28 Days

So I came home early today because I had to meet a repair guy here. He walked in, started working, and his cellphone rang. He talked to his wife for a few minutes, hung up, then asked to turn on the news because a plane just crashed into a building in Manhattan. There was a moment when we both looked at each other, two strangers, and registered a common ground. Here we were, in New York City, getting news about the same event as 9/11. He called his brother, who works in the city, to make sure he was alright. We turned on the news. As we listened, we were so relieved to learn that it was not a terrorist attack, that it was an accident, that our worst fears were not realized. But I was also saddened to hear reports that a few people have died, and that hundreds of people will get back from work and suddenly be homeless. And the most beautiful part is people's response - the news reports had to include comments from the Red Cross to not bring food or clothing because they already had a supply. People want to know how they can help. It's things like this that restore my faith in humanity, just when I'm convinced that people are inherently selfish and bad. It gives me hope when I feel hopeless.

My heart

is

breaking.

Piece

by

piece.

Pierced by white collars, the parts never to fall into place again.

Hurt. Divided. Forever?

Every now and then, I get these aching pangs in my heart for those people in my life whom I've loved but for some reason or another have decided no longer to love me back. It's not that I yearn for what used to be; I mourn what is. I mourn because God has given me a heart that cares and just can't stop. But other people are different. Some people can stop loving, and can stop caring. The latter is almost worse. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's apathy. Apathy from someone you love kills you on the inside.

When these times come along, I'm always reminded that this is how God must feel about us. God aches and yearns to be loved by us. God "groans in labor pains" for us to be His or Her children. And it's in these moments that I realize, it's not that I want a person to love me in a specific way. I just want that person to love me. In her or his own authentic way. And I think God feels the same way. God wants us to love him/her - not in one specific way, be it Catholic or Orthodox or Protestant, but in our hearts. I think God would be so happy if we just said, simply, "I love you too."

THIS MAKES ME PHYSICALLY ILL.

No words. Only tears.

Oh blogger, I have missed you.
It has been a month since I have been without internet access at home and it has driven us apart.
What has happened in that time? Well, I have moved into a new lovely apartment. I dove headfirst into the job which has me travelling every weekend.
And 2 nights ago, I slept funny on my neck and woke up practically immobile. I look like I'm wearing a neck brace. But I'm not.

And I learned that a few friends of mine who are teachers have had students with an interesting name - pronounced either "shi-TAY" or "shi-THEED" - and spelled "shithead."

nice.

The other day, Forbes magazine published an article by Michael Noer entitled Point: Don't Marry Career Women. The article painted women as "desperate housewives" who want it all (career and family) and end up increasingly dissatisfied. He claims that women would be happier at home, allowing their husbands to be the sole breadwinner and therefore decreasing the chance of divorce. I wrote the following response to the editor, and since there is a likely chance it won't get published (because I'm sure thousands of other people sent in something exactly like it), I am putting it here so that people can still read it.

Michael Noer's article warning men not to marry a career woman was not only extremely biased and chauvanistic, it was ill-informed. First, the cited statistics and sources which report women's dissatisfaction with dual-career marriages fail to consider the other side of the coin: the HUSBAND'S role in the marriage. Mr. Noer conveniently overlooked the fact that women who are dissatisfied with dual-career marriages report that it is because their husbands do not share the household duties. Moreover, many statistics in fact show that a majority of dual-career marriages report a greater sense of freedom because a spouse can take time off work or change jobs if s/he is not satisfied. Lastly, Mr. Noer reveals his own dysfunctional view of the role of a husband by painting "career women" as the sole detriment in a marriage. Let's ask our "career men" to take equal responsibility and stop blaming marriage troubles solely on women who "want it all." The fact remains that every marriage where a true selfless partnership exists, where both spouses want what is best for the other, will have a higher success rate, regardless of who makes the money.

Thoughts from the subway

On my way home last night, I got into the subway and sat down, tired from a long day. Across from me was a man who, when he realized it was a stop, stumbled up out of his seat, got stuck between the closing doors, then stumbled out of them and went on his way. There were a few things about him that made my thoughts linger on him a bit. First of all, he stunk. I mean, STUNK. His stench lingered longer than my thoughts in the subway car. He was dirty, too. Like Pigpen (from Charlie Brown), there was a cloud of dirt left behind on the seat. He was barefoot and his feet were so dirty you could barely see the flesh underneath. And who knows if he had substance abuse problems. All I know is that I had never smelled anybody so putrid in my life. And all I could think was, Jesus loves this man. If Jesus was sitting on this train right now, he would not be grossed out by this man's stench and filth. He would reach out to him, heal him, love him. This person, who is unlovable to all of us, is loved. What a God we have.

So things have settled. Family is no longer upset, everyone is happy about my move, and I only have a few more days of being homeless. Also, I met some of the neighbors last night. They're all really nice and welcoming. I can't wait to move in.

This weekend is the long-awaited COUSINS WEEKEND!! L,K,J & C will be partying hard all weekend while G will join in later on. If J&H weren't away on business, it would be perfect. (No, AL, I will never let that one go.)

The only thing that will make the end of this weekend bearable is knowing that I am coming back to the big apple and my very own set of apartment keys! Yes, ladies and jellybeans, I will take up residence in lovely Astoria, NY. Woohoo!

Having a blog is like keeping a diary for me; I have wonderful intentions of writing in it every day, but it often seems that a week goes by before I remember to write in it again. This time, my absence is marked by the fact that I have been frantically searching for a NYC apartment. Two words: NOT FUN. Half the places you arrange to see get rented before you even get there. A majority never even get back to you when you contact them to say you're interested. Of the ones that you actually do get to see, two out of three of them are U-U-U-U-G-L-Y. Or teeny tiny. Or in a basement. Or all of the above. Or too expensive. Finally, however, I found the perfect (albeit on the small side) apartment. It was the first place I walked into and felt like I was actually home. It was absolutely adorable, brand new, beautiful backyard, laundry on the premises, plenty of parking, clean, wow. We signed for it, went out to celebrate, then walked back to the car and realized that the lovely apartment complex across the street was the projects. Mom's heart sank and took mine down with it. After grappling with stereotypes we bring with us and making sure I would be safe, I think I'm going to take it. But it's made me think, again, about racism in our country and the system we live in that perpetuates these stereotypes. What kind of person am I if I want us to take ACTION to break down racial stereotypes but act in ways that contradict that? Is there integrity in refusing to live near the kind of people I want to help?

Amidst all the thoughts swirling in my head, I feel God calling me to live as Jesus would, without prejudice and with total love for ALL people. This is where we have to put FAITH into ACTION.

Here Is A Wound

Here is a wound that never will heal, I know,
Being wrought not of a dearness and a death,
But of a love turned ashes and the breath
Gone out of beauty; never again will grow
The grass on that scarred acre, though I sow
Young seed there yearly and the sky bequeath
Its friendly weathers down, far underneath
Shall be such bitterness of an old woe.
That April should be shattered by a gust,
That August should be levelled by a rain,
I can endure, and that the lifted dust
Of man should settle to the earth again;
But that a dream can die, will be a thrust
Between my ribs forever of hot pain.

-- Edna St. Vincent Millay

I looked at my calendar this morning and realized there are only 2 more days left of camp. We leave on Saturday. I mean, I cognitively knew this information, but it really "hit home" this morning. I can't believe the summer is over already. In a few days I'll be back to cubicle life, searching for an apartment in NYC. It's still so unreal.

I was exhausted today, so I slept for a good portion of the afternoon and thought a lot about my experience this summer. I have been blessed with meeting so many wonderful people, but have also grown apart from others. I have experienced the trial of forgiving people who do not deserve to be forgiven. I have been unjustly mistreated. I have learned a lot about myself. I have grown closer to God. I have seen myself change. I have experienced true fellowship, gathering with others in the name of God. It has been quite a summer. I leave with some sadness in my heart, both for leaving the good times behind and for those relationships which have turned sour that I cannot, no matter what I do, make right because of people's hardened hearts. I leave with a sense of hope, though, as I look forward to a new ministry that awaits me.

It's one of those days when I say to myself, "THAT'S why I'm doing this."

I had to teach the religion class today because the instructor needed to be elsewhere. I ended up having the most wonderful conversation with our 8-12 year olds about why they like church. To hear a child say, "I feel closer to God when I'm in church" is music to my ears. They all genuinely love church, feel closer to God when they're there, and see something special about it that they can't get anywhere else. I couldn't have taught the lesson better myself.

I had the chance to preach this morning here at camp. The priest is on vacation and he appointed me to give the Sunday message during our service.

I love love love to preach. I just feel so humbled and full of God's grace and presence in that moment. I love to share my faith, and without trying to sound arrogant, I think preaching is a gift God has given me. It is such a deep joy in my heart.

I can't believe this is our last week of camp. The summer went by so quickly, even though a million things have happened and I haven't seen or talked to my family or friends for almost 2 months now. To think that I'm actually relocating to NYC is still unreal, but it's happening in a week. Crazy.

Since my last post...

1) I got hit by the "wet bandits" (aka a group of guy counselors threw me into a giant mudpuddle) (I took it as a compliment)
2) The room next to mine flooded
3) I fell and injured my knee
4) I registered 57 campers on Sunday for our third and final camp session
5) I still average 4-5 hours of sleep per night

It has been over 100 degrees the past two days, too, which makes me very crabby. I am indebted to the person who invented air conditioning on days like this. YAWN... time for bed.

If you can't find a mechanic,
sometimes you just gotta grease your own wheels.

Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, shame on me.

What happens the third time?

AT THE B&B

aaaahhhhh, the sweet sound of silence in the morning. admittedly the only thing i wish were different is that there is a skylight in my room which lets in WAY too much light WAY too early in the morning. i'm like a cavewoman - i want it dark and quiet. but that is nothing to complain about, considering i leisurely watched a movie last night and then chilled in the whirlpool and had a bubble bath. the air conditioning works great and i have a private bath. a perfect vacation from the craziness of camp for the weekend!

My bitter pill to swallow

is the

SILENCE

that I keep.

THE MOSQUITOES HAVE FOUND ME.

I am covered, covered, covered. Eaten alive. One or two of them even found my vardig line, thought it was a buffet table, and had a feast. Now all I want to do is scratch my vorig all day long. Unfortunately, that is rather inappropriate, especially when you're in charge of 100 campers. Well, I guess it's inappropriate anywhere.

You know how everybody has those moments when you forget why you walked into a room? It's frustrating, to be certain. But what do you do when it happens ALL THE TIME for days on end??? I either need to sleep for the next 3 days or check myself into the local Alzheimer's ward. Does there ever come a point where the brain damage from sleep deprivation is irreversible? I think I may have reached that point, say, yesterday.

OK so the apartment... not so much. Back to square one. Deal is off. No cigar. ARGH.

I need to vent about something else, something that I keep buried often but which, when it surfaces, hits me like a Mack truck. The worse part is, there is no safe way to vent about this particular thing. I can say, however, that I am beginning to marvel at men more and more. I say this not because any man has done something spectacular, but because I have become acutely aware of what it feels like to completely swallow your feelings about something for an extended length of time. When you are forced to swallow everything you're feeling, it takes its toll on you. You become callous and have to find another outlet for those feelings, which most often has nothing to do with that which you are dealing with, so you never really deal with what's bothering you. It's like trying to stuff too many people onto a subway. Maybe there'll always be a bit more room, but there comes a point where you have squished too many people into a subway car and the ride is terribly uncomfortable. All you can hope is that some people will get off at the next stop so you can have a bit of relief, some breathing room. Because if not, you're just going to have to get used to a cramped ride, which will only make you miserable. That's what it's like when you stuff all your emotions away. Maybe there's room for them, but at some point it gets too cramped inside and you need to make some breathing room so you don't go insane. I guess this is my way of making some breathing room, just talking about how I don't have any. Sigh.

It's amazing how everyday events become so huge and emotional when you haven't had any sleep.

NYC apartment - signed the lease yesterday. Practically had a panic attack. A normal person would have just gotten carpal tunnel from all the signatures you have to put on paper.

First big business meeting - sat there on edge the entire time. A normal person would have just passed notes with a neighbor until the thing was over.

Hotel reservations for the wedding I'm going to in 2 weeks - almost needed therapy over the phone for assurance it was the right place to book a reservation. A normal person would have whooped for joy that a room with a whirlpool at a nice B&B was still cheaper than the hotel down the street.

Seriously, people, I need some sleep.

One of the things I will never understand is why people enjoy being cruel. I cannot understand why that is a desire in so many people, the desire to hurt other people, whether it be physically or emotionally. Now I know these are just kids I'm working with, and they still have a lot to learn, but one of the teenage boys told one of the teenage girls she was fat. The girl, of course, is ashamed to be seen in front of people now. And the worst thing is - this girl is FAR from fat. She is your everyday average 13 year old. She has an average, normal body and on top of it is an absolute sweetheart. She has so much soul. One of those kids who is deep beyond her years. But there is nothing anybody can say or do to reverse the effect of that one malicious stupid comment. It hurts me so much to see her feel this way that it makes me cry. And of course, her family has fed it by telling her things like "If you just lost a few pounds, you would look so much better." NOBODY should tell a teenage girl, EVER, that she needs to lose weight and isn't acceptable as she is. NEVER EVER EVER. It will scar her forever, and never for the better. She will develop some kind of eating disorder, guaranteed.

Pain. So much pain.

A shout out to Evanescence today...

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you screamed I'd fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me.

I AM...

Settling in. Adjusting. Getting used to things. A bit overwhelmed. Very tired. Happy about being at camp. Grateful for my lodging here! Still anxious. A tad depressed. But harboring a sense of hope. Feeling detached. Satisfied by friendships made here. Thirsty. Ready for bed.

SO... angry

SUCH... heartache

When will the world be ready to receive thy saints? How long, O Lord, how long?

10 Things I Hate About You
I hate the way you look at me, the chill that's in your gaze
I hate the way you talk to others in friendly, warmer ways
I hate the way I feel when our bodies almost touch
I hate that a simple comment from you still can make me blush
I hate the jealousy that leaps like flames licking at my heart
I hate how closeness makes us feel even further apart
I hate hoping the past will repeat itself despite the trouble it would be
I hate trying to forget you, long after you've forgotten me
I hate seeing your face every night and every day
And I hate the sadness knowing that we're better off this way.

Where have I been???

In the past month, I have been practically all over the eastern seabord. And not for fun either. BUT... I started my job yesterday, and I'm really excited about living in NYC! I also managed to REALLY piss off some clergy (unintentionally) and had to put out some fires even before my first day of work! Let's just say, I will be much more mindful of the emails I send from now on.

I'm spending this first week of employment living with one of my best friends in the whole wide world, and it's really really fun. She's trusted me with keys to her apartment and everything. It's like the old days when we had sleepovers, except we're tired and have to get up early.

For those of you who aren't aware, I'd like to share something that is startlingly clear this week. Those TV shows that "take place" in NYC - like Friends and Will & Grace - do not, in any way, accurately portray life in the city. Apartments are never that large and you can't possibly afford them based on the jobs these people have. Life is also much more fast-paced and exhausting than you would think from watching the activity in Central Perk. So the next time you see Monica and Rachel or Will and Grace hanging around in that enormous apartment, with all this free time on their hands, just remember, it's not real!

more pearls of wisdom coming soon...

there's a letter on the desktop
that i dug out of a drawer
the last truce we ever came to
in our adolescent war
and i start to feel the fever
from the warm air through the screen
you come regular like seasons
shadowing my dreams

and the mississippi's mighty
but it starts in minnesota
at a place that you could walk across
with five steps down
and i guess that's how you started
like a pinprick to my heart
but at this point you rush right through me
and i start to drown

and there's not enough room
in this world for my pain
signals cross and love gets lost
and time passed makes it plain
of all my demon spirits
i need you the most
i'm in love with your ghost
i'm in love with your ghost

dark and dangerous like a secret
that gets whispered in a hush
(don't tell a soul)
when i wake the things i dreamt about you
last night make me blush
(don't tell a soul)
and you kiss me like a lover
then you sting me like a viper
i go follow to the river
play your memory like a piper

and i feel it like a sickness
how this love is killing me
i'd walk into the fingers
of your fire willingly
and dance the edge of sanity
i've never been this close
i'm in love with your ghost

unknowing captor
you never know how much you
pierce my spirit
but i can't touch you
can you hear it
a cry to be free
oh i'm forever under lock and key
as you pass through me

now i see your face before me
i would launch a thousand ships
to bring your heart back to my island
as the sand beneath me slips
as i burn up in your presence
and i know now how it feels
to be weakened like achilles
with you always at my heels

my bitter pill i swallow
is the silence that i keep
it poisons me i can't swim free
the river is too deep
though i'm baptized by your touch
i am no worse than most
in love with your ghost

you are shadowing my dreams
(in love with your ghost)
(in love with your ghost)
(in love with your ghost)

SO... tired...

After a lovely week at Springdale, I'm now in Watertown, MA chaperoning Sports Weekend. I love the hotel I'm staying at because it provides free wireless internet. God bless the person who invented wireless internet.

I was starting to regret volunteering to chaperone this weekend, but when I got on the bus I got this jolt of energy. I love being there for kids. I love the responsibility of watching and keeping them, of being an example for them and being God's presence in their lives. It energizes me, brings God's voice alive in my heart. But this weekend becomes an emotional roller coaster because there's things like last night, when everybody's gathered in the church for vespers before they go home. And I stand there, as people are filing in, looking up at the altar where five teenage boys are standing, some of questionable character, vested in their shabigs, preparing for the evening service, and then I listen to them chant and hear the strains of performance in their supposedly worshipping voices, and my heart breaks. Literally. I can feel it aching. Aching to serve God in a more profound way than standing in the back of the church telling kids to stop talking. Aching to lead worship. Aching because I know that the only reason I can't is because of my gender. Aching because I see that faith and moral character are not necessary for boys or men who want to serve. Aching because some of those men and boys who are leaders and examples today are not people I would ever admire or follow. Aching to have true role models of faith in my life. Aching to be inspired by faithful leadership. And I hear the echoes in my head of people asking me whether my new job is going to be enough to satisfy me. And I think, in some ways yes, but in other ways no. I will not be totally satisfied doing "consolation prize" work and ignoring the voice of God in my heart. The heartache will not stop until I do.

WHAT A WEEKEND! What a whirlwind!

Good things came from it all though:
1) I have a job!
2) One of my closest friends is now married to a great guy who treats her well.
3) One of my best friends had to have doctors cut her open and remove some yucky bad stuff, but now she's all patched up and recovering.
4) I have the whole week off to lounge in a huge beautiful house with a piano room while I dog-sit for two adorable little Dachshunds.

It has been a while since I've posted on my blog and a bunch has happened.
1) I graduated from seminary!
2) I have interviewed for 2 jobs that seem to want to sign me on!
3) I went to my friends' wedding.
4) I'm going to one of my best friends from college's wedding this weekend.
5) I have a meeting about my summer camp job tomorrow morning.
6) I have become VERY excited about moving to NYC.

Here's a token picture from graduation - me and our seminary president.

I'M GRADUATING!!!

Today is the big day, and I have about 15 minutes of free time before the craziness begins. Things to note about today:

1) It's sunny, and I'm grateful.
2) If it gets as hot as it was yesterday I will go from zero to cranky in 2.6 seconds.
3) Don't dare me to do things, because I will. (thanks Markareed!)
4) I have the greatest family and friends in the whole wide world.

You have problems? There are nebulas exploding in outer space!

Baked Ruffles Cheddar & Sour Cream potato chips = late night snack of the gods.
With some Red Bull to wash it down.

Reasons I should not have a blog right now:
1) I am a procrastinator
2) I have a paper due on Monday at 12:30
3) I have been working on the paper for 2 days straight and I'm sick of it
4) I will do anything to not have to work on it at the moment, including posting nonsense on my blog

Thank you, blogger, for aiding and abetting my crime of procrastination.

Craziness....
The seminary broke today!

It was like 4pm, I was chillin in the library, and the entire campus lost power. The ENTIRE CAMPUS. This has never happened before. What is one to do? Can't find your way around the library, can't use any campus computers, can't make copies, can't do anything! I think it was God saying, "Take a study break!"

My new best friend.

I had the privilege to speak at the annual Philadelphia area's Armenian Genocide commemoration on Monday night. I spoke about what the genocide has taught us (the importance of making people accountable for crimes against humanity) and what the genocide still has to teach us (we must be a united people, and that unity is found in Christ Jesus - the divisions we perpetuate are secondary). I was pretty bold but didn't say anything heretical or blasphemous. I spoke the truth, so I felt comfortable being bold in what I said.

And the greatest compliment I got, over and over again, was that I said what everybody else thinks but is afraid to say.

That makes me happy for now.

INCIDENT AT WAWA

Scene: I and another person are standing outside my car talking, and 2 guys are sitting in their car parked next to mine.

Strange Person: Hey, can I ask you guys a question? My friend and I here were having a little debate.

Me and person I'm with: Uh, sure.

Strange Person: When you are smoking pot, or you're high on something, do your pupils get bigger or smaller?

Me and person I'm with: Uh, I'm not sure, I think bigger.

Strange person: Bigger? (to the guy seated next to him) See, I told you.

Me and person I'm with: Yeah we're not totally sure, but we think the answer is bigger.

Strange person: Yeah that's what I thought too! My buddy's pupils are big as sh** and he's totally sober. Mine are all tiny and I'm the one who's f***ed up! Well anyway, thanks guys.

Me and person I'm with: Sure thing.

Did I mention that Strange Person was in the driver's seat? Yeah, he drove away. TERRIFIC.

Overheard in class today:

Professor 1 (lecturing to the class): You can't take all these complex ideas and wrap them up in a simple book like Rick Warren does.

Professor 2 (seated behind me, whispering to the person next to her): Who's Rick Warren?

Person: I'm so glad you don't know.

2 10-page papers + 2 serious due dates + 2 hours of sleep + 2 cans of red bull = the heap of stress sitting in my room.

This is an email I received from a friend named Sevan Ohanian last week, and I think the world needs to read it. Thanks, SevanO, for permission to post this.

"I would like to pose a question to everyone and get some opinions: Why are Armos so divided?

Think about it. You got Barsgahyes vs. Bolsahyes vs. Hyeastancis vs. Lipanahyes vs. Suriahyes, Tashnags vs. Ramgavars, Diocese vs. Prelacy, ACYOA vs. AYF, my mama's basturma vs. your mama's, etc. Now the whole "kinds" of Armo divisions can probably be explained by cultural and linguistic differences. But what about everything else? Will things ever change?

Is there something in our culture that keeps us divided? Is it some ancient tribal mentality that has been passed down from generation to generation? Hundreds of years ago in the old country, before all of the political schisms that exist today, little Armo communities would war with each other instead of banding together and fighting the real enemy united.

Who is to blame? Our parents' generation perhaps. Are we are to blame for perpetuating this beef? Are we, as young Armenian men and women, going to change this? Are our kids generation? Or are we going to teach them the same things our parents have taught us? Is there anything to right this wrong? Or are we doomed as a united force in this world?

Now on this list is a broad cross-section of Armos who are friends of mine or otherwise ended up on my email address book. There are Tashnags and non-tashnags, ACYOAers and AYFers, Bolsas, Barsgas, Hyeastancis, Lipanahyes, Suriahyes, all on this email. About half of the people on this list are from the DC area, and half from other communities and a few from overseas. I can tell you it is pretty bad here in DC with the whole church split thing. What is it like in your own communities? And some Non-Armos are on this list, and if you have read this far, Does this sort of thing sound familiar in your own ethnic communities?"

I don't think this problem is particular to Armenians, though I don't have the experience and knowledge to publicly comment on other ethnicities. I do think that it's a sad fact of human nature that we pass on things to future generations that they're better off without, though. You could ask this question to the whole Christian church as well, or to any group of people with inner divisions. What keeps us divided? Is it our own pride and refusal to compromise? Hanging on to grudges we ought to have long forgotten? Fear of having to say "I'm sorry?"

The annual commemoration of the Armenian Genocide is coming up, an event which might for one day unite Armenians but for the other 364 days still serves to divide. When will a common past be able to unite us in the future?

PS - at 10pm TONIGHT (April 17) there is a special on PBS about the Armenian Genocide. Tell everyone you know and watch it! Support the recognition and accountability of crimes against humanity.

A while ago I had a post about the Armenian Genocide. I am giving a talk at this year's Genocide commemoration, so as I've begun to think about it, it's on my mind and I thought I'd provide some websites that have lots of info about it.

http://www.armenian-genocide.org

http://www.twentyvoices.com

http://www.theforgotten.org/intro.html

http://www.genocide1915.info/#

http://www.armenocide.am/

If you google "Armenian Genocide" and go to about the 3rd or 4th page, you'll start to see what makes me SICK inside: Genocide denial propoganda. I have not included those sites here, though I just finished reading one that wasted a bunch of Internet space just blowing off some steam and not really saying anything substantial. I think my next post about the Genocide will have to be about some of the allegations that Genocide denial makes, and how to respond to it.

And maybe another post will be my own Medz Mayrig's story - my great grandmother, the only survivor in her family.

J thinks perhaps we have 2 trends:
1) G - his mouth - glassware.
2) C - taking pictures of G w/ his mouth wrapped around glassware

My brother is notorious for his exaggerated sense of humor, but apparently he has no recollection of this picture. I wonder why. What I want to know is, what's he doing with the fork?

It's SUNNY! :)

P.S. I love my family. Here's why:

"Those of us who are there early will eat the lavish hors d'ouevres and drink the expensive wine!!

When the rest of you arrive we'll be eating lasagna and salad off of paper plates (no kidding!) Dress comfortably unless you intend to embarrass the Wedgewood group.

See you then. Right now I'm expecting J,S, J, G, C, Gpop, P, S, M, J and L. with L and K coming over possibly for dessert. We'll miss J. and H.

Love,
AL"


No comment, AL. L, J, J, C and G will all make sarcastic remarks about this for a long time. K might chime in too, and hopefully H as well. J and S will be polite about it and P and S won't have even read it because they don't have a computer. C helped me figure out who M is and S will chastise me for not knowing that in the first place. J will have been confused about it too and will have asked S for clarificaiton. J is probably still sitting at his computer rolling his eyes.

Are the rest of you confuddled yet?

Timeless wisdom from one of my favorite childhood cartoons, "Thundercats":

Bullies are always cowards on the inside.

I had my first celebrity sighting today!

In Palmer Square, as I was in line for the best ice cream ever at the Bent Spoon, Andrew Shue (of Melrose Place) walked right by me! He is hotter in person than he was on TV!

How long, O Lord, how long?

How long will the denial of genocide be allowed to continue?

I used to want to spread the truth about the Armenian Genocide of 1915 because of the stories of people like my great-grandmother. I still do. But now I think it's even more important because it is a HUMAN RIGHTS issue. People must be held accountable for CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY.

If you have 18 minutes, check out this interview with Orhan Pamuk, a Turkish writer who has suffered the wrath of Turkey's nationalist government for speaking out about the Armenian Genocide. The comments by the Turkish lawyer also interviewed are scary and downright sickening.

http://www.abc.net.au/foreign/content/2006/turkey_pamuk_200k.asx

another great site with lots of Genocide info:
www.twentyvoices.com

I think I'll be blogging about this a lot in the next month or so, as April 24 is the day of commemoration of the Armenian Genocide.

Another bit of Billy Joel's awesome lyrics:

Honesty is such a lonely word
Everyone is so untrue
Honesty is hardly ever heard,
And mostly what I need from you.

When I was little, I used to want a magic ring that would make the world stop if I needed it to. Today, I'm reverting back to that wish.
This is one of those days where I'm freaked out that I have WAY too much on my plate. Patristic theology paper, senior planning committee, school play, general schoolwork, job search/discernment, and some other stuff too. Any chance they'll think of a way to stop time in the next 48 hours?

YOUR WHISPERING

speaks louder

than what you say.

Words that have been running through my head all day (to a beautiful choral piece by John Rutter):

God be in my head, and in my understanding
God be in my eyes, and in my looking
God be in my mouth, and in my speaking
God be in my heart, and in my seeking
God be at my end, and in my departing

So it's been a while since I've posted anything, and that is for 2 major reasons.

1) the school play is taking over my life.
2) I went away for the weekend with 2 of my best friends in the whole wide world, to a place with no internet access.

While I want reason #1 to go away, I will take reason #2 any day of the week. Aghchigner - I love you!!!!

So yesterday, I had the opportunity to speak at church about women's role in the church in the 21st century.

It was affirming, invigorating, energizing.

Because here's the thing - I said some "bold" things (at least our church would consider them bold) but seminary has begun to pay off and I was able to back all of it up and stand on very solid ground.

A few highlights:

1) the Armenian Orthodox church doesn't allow women to preach. Yet from the very beginning, church Tradition provides evidence that women filled this role. There is evidence of women prophesying in church gatherings in Paul's letters. St. Gregory the Illuminator, the patron saint of Armenia (late 3rd-early 4th century), said in his Teaching, "Not only by men, but also by holy women the gospel of life was preached throughout the world." Women as preachers and missionaries were an integral part of the Armenian Church Tradition.

2) the church hesitates if not refuses to admit that there were female apostles. Yet in Romans 16 Paul praises a woman named Junia as "prominent among the apostles." St. John Chrysostom (4th century) lauds her: "How great the wisdom of this woman must have been that she was even deemed worthy of the title Apostle." Women are also named as disciples, co-laborers and workers in the Lord, and dedicated followers of Jesus.

3) the church resists reinstating the female diaconate, which was a strong part of the church's Tradition until the last century. An inscription on the door of the mother cathedral of Etchmiadzin is dedicated to the "archdeaconess Hripsime." Phoebe is named by Paul as a deacon (1st century). Olympias, Chrysostom's close friend and confidante and receiver of many of his letters, was a deaconess (4th century). Deaconesses in the Armenian Church were prominent in medieval times as well. Today there is one living deaconess left. The church would rather her die off and let the office of the female diaconate become extinct. This is not part of church Tradition and ignores a vital and life-giving ministry that the church is in dire need of today.

If only the church hierarchy could admit this...

Quoted (and it made me laugh):

"Man, I'm getting old. I better get married and have some babies before I keel over and die."

It takes being happy to realize how miserable you've been.

Thank God for good friends.

I AM NOT INVISIBLE.

but it sure feels that way sometimes.

::Sad::
I got the phone call that my parents put our dog to sleep this afternoon.
I'm much sadder than I thought I would be. I'm the only one in my family who can't be there to bury her.
Distance is such a blessing and such a curse.

Today...

A bittersweet melody.

Empty.

Well, it's no big sin to stick your two cents in
If you know when to leave it alone
But you went over the line
You couldn't see it was time to go home

Billy Joel sang it best:

"Go ahead with your own life, and LEAVE ME ALONE!"

This is one of those days where I want the world around me to go away so I can breathe.

Rule of professionalism #4:
When your interviewee shows up at the postponed time, apologize again for inconveniencing her.

Rule of professionalism #5:
End each interview with some sort of closure so that the interviewee knows what to expect next. Some examples: "Thank you for your time. I will contact you via email within the next week." "Thank you for your time. We are interested in having you on board, so please let us know within (name the amount of time)." Or some facsimile.

Basic rule of thumb:
Become a bishop. Then you can make people do whatever you want and live like nobody is as important as you are.

Rule of professionalism #1:
Don't call 3 hours before the interview to ask if I have some flexibility to make it for an earlier or later time.

Rule of professionalism #2:
Especially don't do that if you haven't done your homework enough to realize that I'm coming in by a 1 1/2 hour train ride.

Rule of professionalism #3:
Don't admit that the reason you need to change the interview time is because you just realized that your boss wants you on a conference call at that time.

There are some things in my life that lack integrity, but I can't seem to rid myself of them:
1) two-faced friends
2) doing things out of guilt or shame
3) control freaks (I'm REALLY sick of them)
4) needing the approval of people I will never get it from

Ugh.

What a day.

This morning, I had the privilege of leading chapel worship here on campus. After a lot of hard work and very little sleep in planning it, I was really looking forward to it. The service was full of the Holy Spirit and it was a very prayerful, worshipful experience. The thing that got me is, my church says that women should not be doing the very thing I did this morning. And afer numerous experiences like this one, I am so convinced that they're wrong about that. Not because it's all about me, but because you cannot ignore the movement of the Spirit in your heart. And I know I felt God's presence with me this morning. Until the service started, I kept thinking, Should I really be doing this? God's presence there answered that question loud and clear: YES. It was such an affirming experience.

I'm left with so many more questions than I had yesterday.

things I find amusing:
1) people who are so screwed up that it's blatantly obvious to other people.
2) old men who start chatting with you when you're trying to read in Barnes & Noble.

things I find annoying:
1) when people are totally screwed up and it's only obvious to other people.
2) old men who don't care that you're trying to read and keep chatting with you in Barnes & Noble.

Why are some people control freaks?

The ironic thing is, control freaks tend to act the most out of control, the most freakishly, directly as a result of their need to be in control. I don't like control freaks at all. Because ultimately, situations and people can't and should never be controlled. Don't even try. Control freaks need to be sent away, shipped off to some faraway place, and instead we need to bring in people who are able to see outside of themselves. Replace the control freaks with people who realize that other people are as valuable as they are.

Then, the world would be a much better place.

INTEGRITY is what's on my mind today.

When I was in line at the airport the other day, a bunch of soldiers were getting off a plane and the whole airport erupted into applause as they walked by. I just froze, just stood there. I didn't clap, even though I support our troops. I do support them. I can't imagine what it must be like to do what they do. But at the same time, I'm 100% against this war and I am disgusted by some of the things our troops have done, like torturing Iraqi prisoners. But why didn't I clap for these soldiers? I'm not against them, I'm against what other people are doing. I don't really know. I just know that at that moment, I felt that clapping for them meant that I supported the war. Was there integrity in holding my applause?

I'm also in a bit of a spiritual dilemma. I am part of the Orthodox church, but I strongly disgree with its attitude toward women. Yet there is so much about the Orthodox church that I love - the liturgy, the tradition, the mystical piety. But then, I think about the answer I would give someone who asked me why I'd stay in a church that doesn't allow me to exercise my spiritual gifts to their full potential. There are no good answers to that question. And I complain about the Orthodox church an awful lot, as much as I say I love it and don't want to leave it. Is there integrity in my choice to remain there?

Am I a person who lives her life with integrity?

Thoughts from the airport:

I realized on the way back that I really hate flying. Not because I'm afraid of it. It's the hassle of flying that is almost too frustrating for my mental sanity anymore. Maybe next year I'll take a road trip out to Vegas.

And they need to do away with automatic flush toilets. Just get rid of all of them and let us flush when it's time. Here's why.
THE SENSOR DOES NOT HAVE A BRAIN. When any woman walks into a public restroom, she wipes the seat down before she sits. In fact, she wipes it a few times then lays down a bunch of toilet paper. Personal contact with the seat is not an option. And the seat is ALWAYS wet. Always. I have never walked into a public bathroom stall and thought, "Hey, this is so clean! I'm just going to sit right down." No way. The problem is, when you lean over to perform the proper anti-germ procedure, the sensor notices. And what do you do next? Stand back up and pull down your pants so you can now go to the bathroom. When that happens, however, the sensor thinks you've just gotten up. So when you precariously position yourself over the seat and finally sit down in what you think is a safe position, the sensor picks that moment to flush. Now you have nowhere to go. You're stuck there with the toilet flushing underneath you, and in most cases, your hynie gets sprayed. Yes, it's NASTY. The toilet I sat on today in the airport did it THREE TIMES IN A ROW and I hadn't even moved! Nasty. Then of course, when you finally get up with hopefully a shred of dignity left, the toilet doesn't flush. No, the sensor has had enough for a while. If your toilet is new enough, it won't even have a manual flush option and you're left with the humiliation of leaving your stall unflushed for the next person. And what happens when it does flush for you? Sprays the seat and leaves it wet for the next person. It's a vicious, vicious cycle. We need to do away with automatic flush toilets forever. Don't even get me started on the automatic water and soap and paper towels. Things would be different if I ran the world.

I had SUCH a great time this weekend visiting my friends. Vegas is a lot of fun when you see it with the locals. Some highlights included:

1) shopping with Aniela. She and I both love the bargains, and she found a GREAT dress to wear to a wedding in June. You know that excited feeling you get when you try on something you wouldn't normally try but that you just love the moment you see yourself in it? How it makes you so happy and giddy? That was her in this dress. Plus it was on major sale. I made her buy it. (didn't take much convincing)

2) seeing George Wallace, a standup comedian. I laughed so hard my tummy and my face hurt!

3) seeing Lee's face when we filled the fridge up with the case of Yuengling Lager I brought for them. Yuengling was, at first, only available in PA (where the three of us went to college and enjoyed lots of it). It has begun branching out along the east coast, but hasn't gotten as far as Las Vegas yet. It's been 6 years since we graduated, so naturally, he has missed it tremendously.

4) playing with Doug, their sweet lovable greyhound.

5) eating at all the amazing restaurants. Two words: avocado eggrolls. I need to fast for the next week to purge my system of all the food overload.

6) In-N-Out Burger. Animal style.

7) sunny weather.

8) the tiny little old man (I stress the "tiny" and the "little" and the "old" - he had to be about 4"8') at the Italian restaurant who played the accordion. He could kinda play, and I think he hit a few of the notes he tried to sing. Priceless. It made me laugh almost as hard as George Wallace did. It also brought a smile to my face, though, because you could tell it meant the world to this guy to walk around the restaurant and do that. It was too cute.

Even though these are some of the highlights, I enjoyed every minute of my trip. I can't wait till next year!

Intelligence is knowing that a tomato is a fruit.
Wisdom is knowing not to put one in a fruit salad.

Things I thought a lot on the flight to Las Vegas today:

1) Are we there yet?
2) Is the guy next to me aware that he's way over the personal space line?
3) I wonder how many drinks the bachelor party behind me has had now.
4) Are we there yet?
5) There is no way they could have used a real human body to design these seats.
6) Nobody needs to make it their mission to spend the 5-hour flight becoming best friends with the people seated caddy-corner from you, especially when they are loud enough to be heard at the other end of the plane.
7) Are we there yet?
8) Young screaming children should never be allowed to travel.
9) Are we there yet?


But after sitting on the tarmac for 30 minutes breathing recycled air, waiting for the terminal to open up, I walked into McCarran Airport and reached baggage claim, where I saw my beloved friends who I don't get to see enough (because they live on the other side of the country).

And then I thought, a lot,

1) That was all worth it. I love my friends.

Today is Valentine's Day.

I hate Valentine's Day.

I've never really had a good Valentine's Day, regardless of whether I was single or dating somebody.

Some people's way around this ridiculous and completely commercial holiday is to make it about all their loved ones, but that doesn't do it for me. I have Christmas and Thanksgiving and Easter and my birthday and Mother's Day and Father's Day and every other holiday for that.

I think Valentine's Day is living proof that marketing controls our country. Like cattle herded into a pasture, we flock to the Hallmark and chocolate stores just like the ads tell us to. The forces that be control how we spend our money, time, and thoughts on this dreadful day. Single women feel awful. Single men just want to get through the day. People in relationships are under this terrible (and completely commercial) pressure to make it the most romantic day of the year. Forget your anniversary, or each other's birthdays, or something else to celebrate. Without unsurpassed romance, you're somehow a failure on Valentine's day. I mean what do we expect on Valentine's day, really? It's just another day of the year. How stupid are we to be convinced by advertising that this day is so drastically different that we ought to expect Hollywood romance and more in order for it to live up to some invisible commercial standard?

Today, I am wearing black.

Don't we all know someone like this... hats off to Billy Joel for some great lyrics.

There's a place in the world for the angry young man
With his working class ties and his radical plans
He refuses to bend, he refuses to crawl,
And he's always at home with his back to the wall.
And he's proud of his scars and the battles he's lost,
And he struggles and bleeds as he hangs on his cross,
And he likes to be known as the angry young man.

And there's always a place for the angry young man,
With his fist in the air and his head in the sand.
He's never been able to learn from mistakes,
So he can't understand why his heart always breaks.
But his honor is pure and his courage as well,
And he's fair and he's true and he's boring as hell,
And he'll go to the grave as an angry old man.

SNOW!

For the past (almost) 24 hours, we here in NJ have seen a beautiful snowfall that has blanketed our region with about a foot of snow. Now I have to say, I LOVE LOVE LOVE snow. Even though we don't get snow days anymore, the thrill of seeing all that pure white outside and the cozy feeling it brings makes me so happy. I still don't understand why all those silly grown-ups complain about having to shovel and drive in snow. When I was a kid, the excitement of getting a day off school for a snow day was almost too much to contain. I think that has lingered into my adulthood, so that when it snows like this, all I want to do is make snow angels and go sledding and then come inside and dry off and nestle in with some hot chocolate. It still fills me with that childhood excitement.

Even if I have to shovel my front walkway and drive on the icy roads.

yes they're sharing a drink they call loneliness
but it's better than drinking alone.

my cup runneth over.

Chem keeder as eench pan eh.

what a great line. sort of how i feel about starting a blog.