Wishing and Hoping and Thinking and Praying

A couple weeks ago (Easter weekend), I read a book that is the first in a series of fiction novellas based on the influential women in the line of Jesus. It is called Unveiled, and is based on the life of Tamar, daughter-in-law of Judah, mother of Perez and Zerah(Genesis 38). The story is told from Tamar's perspective, and the angle is one of undying hope. When Tamar was taken as Er's wife, he treated her poorly, and God took Er's life. Then she was given to Onan, that he might give her children and further the line of Judah. But Onan was stubborn and refused to produce a child that would be considered Er's, and so God took him also. Tamar was sent back to live as a widow with her father's family with the promise that Judah would send for her as soon as Shelah was mature enough to have children.
At any rate, during this period of time in the fictional story, Tamar was portrayed as having an undying confidence that she would one day be the one to further the line of Judah. And eventually she did, though she had to resort to trickery to get to that point because she knew what she was entitled to.
The real question here is, what is the cost of holding onto hope, of believing in something that nobody else believes in, and how long can it last? How can we know whether the nudgings of our hearts are really from God, as they were for Tamar?

Oversharing

I have recently come to realize that I have a tendency to overshare. I don't recognize it in the moment that it's happening, but as soon as I walk away from the conversation, I think to myself Oh my goodness... What was I thinking? Why did I tell them all of that. I don't do it with people I've just met, but once I feel fully comfortable around a person, I just randomly start blurting out whatever comes to my mind. And later, I realize that the person I'd been talking to is probably thinking one of two things: either why is she telling me this or I never realized how crazy she was until she started talking or possibly both. :) So, if you happen to be reading this, and my oversharing has annoyed you/freaked you out/left you puzzled, please consider this my personal apology. HAVE A GREAT NIGHT!!!

The Wrong Priorities

Right now, my priorities are all out of whack. There are many things I'd like to care about doing right now, but I don't.

Things I care about doing right now:
Sleeping
Laying in bed doing nothing
Sleeping
Sleeping
Maybe watching a movie
Eating (only because if I don't, I'll be hungry later...)

Things I wished I cared about doing right now, because I'm not doing anything, but I just want to be alone and unproductive:
Praying
Writing
Running
Cooking
Calling my friends
Going to pick up my dress
Reading a book

Things I never care about doing, but occasionally force myself to do anyway, which I am also not doing right now:
Putting away my clothes
Vacuuming
General Cleaning

Well, I guess that's all. My mind is already thinking about going back to bed, and so I think I will.

More fun with the Evil K

Monday night, I was looking through an old New York Times that was laying on the floor in the living room, and I found a typo. That was the highlight of my day. I know, pretty sad. I am aware how completely and totally geeky that makes me. And that is not what this post is about. This post is about work.
I know I almost never write about work, but today, I shall. There's a bunch of crazy weird stuff going on. We have two people who put in their two weeks notice this week. It won't be that big of a deal, because they really aren't the best workers in the world, but since they both work swing shift in self serve, it kind of leaves us in a pickle. There are also other complicated situations that have arisen that I can't really talk about because there are a couple of people from work who could be reading this. UGH. Anyway, the point is, work sucks right now because there are a lot of things that are kind of up in the air for me right now. I just wanted to get that out.
Aside from work, everything else is okay. I'm not entirely convinced that what I ran this weekend/today was actually three miles because it only took me 25 minutes today, and I walked part of it. So I think it may have been less... I don't know. My cat still likes me most of the time, so that's a good thing. I am running a pre-5K 5K this Saturday, because I can, for the "Run 4 Life." After that, I am going to visit my sister in Falabama. Not particularly looking forward to that trip for a few reasons, most having to do with the fact that it's FALABAMA!!! The following Saturday is Walk America for work, and then we all know what happens the weekend after that! AHHHHHHH!!
Okay, so now that I have given an update on my life, just so that nobody thinks I fell off the edge of the earth (since it's flat and all), I have nothing else to say. My life is rather boring (in a good way).

Have I mentioned?

My dreams sometimes freak me out. Additionally they also frequently annoy me-- in the "what the heck was that supposed to mean" sort of way, or the "that would never happen" sort of way.

The "what the heck was that supposed to mean" ones generally leave me feeling confused, or disoriented. They make me wonder if things I thought were true are really not true, or they make me think that something that I really desire may eventually come true. Inevitably, this happens as soon as I've come to terms with the fact/thought/made up ideal that I'm holding on to an unrealistic dream.

The "that would never happen" dreams just leave me irritated because I feel like they have no meaning, no substance. They usually consist of people from different parts of my life being in the same place. For example, people from church and people from work, all living together in one house, working for a church that is functioning as a corporation... Or people from church sending updates on church events to the evilK e-mail, and everyone at work acting as though this is important information for them to know. Now that I type them here, they seem to make more sense, but still... What's with my mixing people up? It's not like I make an effort to separate the people at work from the people at church--maybe it's just like everyone is just one GREAT BIG part of my family.

Sorry for the random post on dreams... I thought it was just going to be a quick thought. Oh well--It's not like it's any surprise to anyone that I am longwinded... :)

A Perfect Pairing

It was June of 2004 when I met the main guy in my life. It was a sweltering day, and naturally I was outside. I had stumbled out of bed early that morning to help my roommate set up for the Reno Mustang Car Club's summer car show. I was in charge of getting the people who had pre-registered all signed in. It was quite a busy morning, but by afternoon, there was nothing left for me to do but hang out and have a good time.
I wandered around the lot checking out all of the cars (and their owners of course, on the off chance that one WASN'T middle-aged) and all of the vendor booths. The vendor booths seemed far more lucrative than the cars. The Humane Society adopt-a-pet van turned out to be the best booth of them all. Right when I walked in, his round green eyes caught mine, and I knew right away that he was the one for me. As I drew closer, it was obvious that the affection was not one-sided, and that he was eager to be mine.
I didn't want to make any rash decisions, so I went back to the table and discussed the situation with my roommate. She agreed that we should check out the situation with him. We headed back to the van and stepped inside. By this time, there were other people checking out my guy. I found myself getting really jealous, and I had to step outside and pray that to God that no one would snatch this guy away from me. I could tell that he didn't really like any of the others as much as he liked me, and so I was still hopeful.



And the rest is history. Smokey came home with me that night. Since that point he has been my prime source of cuddling and the inspiration for many photographs.

The Epitome of Pride (writing exercise)

I hate the texture of unrequited love, its steel wool courseness rubbing my insides raw--
began my first attempt at a novel. A real flesh and blood novel, that came from my hands, my heart. I had finished it and was certain it was something people around the world HAD to read. My best friend, of course, saw the reality of the situation and tried to convince me that it was crap. In fact, not only was it crap, it was a "festering pile of crap." But my mind was made up. The literary community was about to reveal a "gem of a novel." I would be praised for my willingness to share my TRAGIC TALE OF HEARTBREAK.

The places we went together still stand firm, icons of what was never mind. I see his face in the spackle on my wall, the threads of my favorite sweater, the iris of my eyes. His voice still whispers to me in the silence of the night, waking me from dreams of him. Oh, that I could use that same steel wool to scour away the memories of him.

Bobbi warned me that it was over the top. She begged me to cut back on the "flowery language" and the melodramatic "woe is me" air of it all, but what would she know. I was convinced that she just didn't understand--that if she had been in my situation, as many people certainly have, it would all make sense to her. I ignored her advise and maxed out my credit card paying for the copying, binding, and mailing off of one hundred complete manuscripts, one hundred pieces of my soul. With that many copies going out, I was certain that at least one editor would fall in love with my creative masterpiece. I remained confident and positive, even as the rejection letters began pouring in.
Then I received the letter that changed it all, that announced defeat.

Dear Miss Sapstrom,
I have no words to express my complete and total distaste with this book--So I'll offer you the words of the famous Dorothy Parker:
"This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force."
Preferably into the nearest rubbish bin or fireplace.

I would advise you to reconsider your plans of becoming a novelist.

Thank you for your submission,
Jonna Feo


I called Bobbi, and I bawled and sputtered my way through the letter. I bared my devastation as I imagined my dreams splattering on the ground like a waterballoon on a searing summer day. And as best friends do, she gave me everything I needed--support, encouragement, and prayer; and in true Bobbi fashion, an aptly timed, "I told you so."

Comedy or Drama?

I was at work this week (as is the case with most weeks) and one of my co-workers told me about a new movie coming out starring Samuel L. Jackson. Apparently, the movie is about a terrorist plot that takes place 30,000 feet in the air that involves terrorists letting snakes loose on a plane full of people. Sounds interesting enough, right?
Then my co-worker tells me the title... Snakes on a Plane...
I, of course, being the logically minded person that I am, laughed at him when he told me this. I thought it was a joke; after all, the title Snakes on a Plane sounds like a wonderful title for a comedy. I thought he was making it up. But the sad truth of the matter is that he was not. The movie really is called Snakes on a Plane. I even confirmed it with the Internet Movie Database.
And apparently there is even a scene in which, after the snakes were let loose, the flight attendant comes into the cabin and yells, "EVERYBODY RUN!!!" And of course the passengers are all thinking, "Where am I supposed to run? I'm on a blasted PLANE!!!!"