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.