The Most Punk I've Ever Been

Before (Jed, notice my hair combed slightly over the ear):













After:

















































"Do you feel lucky punk, well do you?"

Coupons

Coupons

When making a move to a location 8 hours away it is almost impossible to get the job and then plan the move. That is, unless you are transferring or taking a position so big a deal that the employers pay your moving expenses. I did not have that luxury. I knew, that is, we knew that this was the right decision. It's a thing of faith, be sure. It becomes harder to preservere in faith as the money becomes tighter, as you approach the day of bankruptcy. That day is still over a month a way, but a plan is necessary. Like, when to ask the in-laws for help. And if they cannot help, when to tell them that you'll be taking up residence with them. We have,at this point, put our hats into the ring on jobs we'd like and some we would not. I know that we have done what we can. Considering that, I see no room for worry. It is hard not to feel desperate. I've got every thousand dollar contest in town on speed dial. I have applied to the Books-A-Million in Gallatin. Before we moved my boss told me there was a B-A-M in Nashville. There's not. We looked on the website and did not see it. It was not until this week that we realized it was in Gallatin, a suburb of Nashville. Because of the double threat of my previous employment with the company and that they are hiring I think this will work. I also have an interview on Monday with Opryland Hotel to work at one of a dozen little shops they have. The lady, a brit, called yesterday and was very impressed with my answers to the on-phone pre-interview. Her words, not mine. So that looks good too. I am on a street team for Lost Highway and am hoping to convince the girl over that to find me something there. I have been a great street teamer. Her words. Maybe they have an opening in the mail room. I could always settle for A&R. Heh.

And in the end...Love you take=love you make

On Denominations

Not that I have arrived or anything, but I am probably further in my walk now than I have ever been. Which isn't to say that things couldn't be better. Quite the opposite actually. Never the less, I thought about something along those lines today.

When I was in Graceville, my walk with the Lord was great and horrible at different times. In New Orleans, it has been the same. This unbalanced process is the action of sanctification. All this is to say that I had a move toward the right direction in my relationship with God earlier this afternoon. When I lived in Graceville, I only concerned myself with other Evangelical Christians as a sort of people to just debate theology with. I didn't worry about telling the lost about Jesus with these brothers and sisters; half the time, I probably thought about telling them the Gospel again. Then today a church caught my eye. I was frozen still. They try to reach the unchurched because, they love people. Who do I love, besides myself? I just felt convicted. I have not been a Christian to other Christians.

This world is just sitting in too much crap for Christians to sit around and convince themselves that they are always "sharpening iron" with their debates. Certainly, doctrinal integrity is held up with the highest regard, but some things are just not worth it. There is, by and large, not a lot getting accomplished and it is on us as the Redeemed to do it. I might not be lost, but I'm not far from it.

love,

Not Really Surprising

It's no wonder that I can't commit to a relationship. I can't even commit to buy a twelve pack of bar soap. I always get the three pack. Sad, I know. My inability to commit to soap probably isn't related to my disabilities with women. But, maybe.

I really like the Dial Tropical Blast.

Why Oh Why.

Thanks to everyone who commented on the previous post. Well, with about 4 weeks left until school starts back, I figured I'd post my schedule. I got all the classes I wanted, on the first try. I don't think that has actually ever happened to me before. I'm registered for 15 hours, but there's a chance I could drop one still.

HIST5323 Baptist Heritage WF / 8:30 am - 9:50 am
BBBW5300 Encountering the Biblical World WF / 11:30 am - 12:50 pm
CEEF6301 Philosophical Foundations WF / 1:00 pm - 2:20 pm
CESW6314 Interpersonal Relationship Skills TR / 8:30 am - 9:50 am
DISC5170 Spiritual Formation I Tuesday / 11:30 am - 12:20
CEYH5244 The Work of the Youth Minister TR / 1:00 pm - 1:50 pm

To Be Posh

I got this from Jared, who got this from other people.

IF YOU READ THIS, even if we DO SPEAK OR DO NOT SPEAK OFTEN, comment with one memory of me and you. It can be anything you want. GOOD OR BAD. Just as long as it actually HAPPENED. THEN, post this on your blog. See what other people remember about YOU.

All To Myself

My roommate Blaize left yesterday. Pray for his trip. He'll be gone until August 2nd and I love it (but I will miss him).

In other news, I finally got my car fixed. For one hundred dollars, I got a new water pump, thermostat, labor, and some other necessities that go with the job. Thanks Boyd.

I'm going to the French Quarter tonight to be a local. How neat is that?

Mind your pints and quarts...

Collected Thoughts

I hate sitting here trying to write and getting distracted. So I'm just going to launch right into it. I made this sound serious, but it's not.

I hate certain posts that I sometimes write which possibly give the impression that I give two spitwads about people like Tom Cruise, and what happens with his life.

I hate how right now I'm tempted to come up with more things I hate when in fact I had other things I wanted to write.

It's undeniable, hatred sells. So...to appease your tormented soul I'll offer a few more notes of hate.

I hate how in a post like this that because I started with incosequential information you probably think there will be no substance from me tonight.

I hate that you'd be right.

I hate trying to explain myself in the confines of a weblog, always aware of how someone is bound to misunderstand and comment according to their misunderstanding. It rarely happens these days, but it used to be routine and I just can't shake the thought.

I hate that I feel the need to offer an example to further explain the previous paragraph. For example, I'm confident that I will have a job within two weeks. This is based on communications with several potential employers which lead me to believe that they think I stand a strong chance. This example makes sense, sure, but I imagine a skeptic saying "Geez, he doesn't have a job yet. Unbelievable."

I hate how these last two paragraphs are so much bigger than the others.

I hate when it takes a lot of words to say a whole lot of nothing.

What can I say? I'm a hater, but I've got a lot of love too.

Tonight I painted my first real painting. I spent three hours on it. It will take 2 days or longer to dry.

Tomorrow we're going to Jackson to stay at Donna's mom's house. I need to take some typing tests on her computer but we're mostly just going to go. This is a recent turn of events, and a surprising one at that. We, myself included, enjoy going to see Ms. Mary and the rest of the family. A strange turnaround indeed.

Saturday we three are going to see Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. This is the summer movie I'm most looking forward to seeing.

We'll return Sunday to try another church. To be honest, we haven't been every Sunday. Actually, it's been more like the exception. But we're sick of not going.

This past Wednesday we tried Cornerstone Church, just outside of Nashville in Madison. We had out and about in town that afternoon when it was time to head toward church. Our plan had been to go to 1st Baptist but I saw this billboard for Cornerstone and asked if we could change the plan. I thought I had seen it on the SBC website. I had never considered a church withouta middle word in its title. I kind of hoped it was a baptist church that identifies with the principles of the "emerging church". We walked in and immediately loved the look and feel of the place. However, it turned out to be an Assembly of God church. Of course, we didn't know this until it was too late. I don't think they're off doctrinally, it's just such a different church experience/environment that it felt pretty awkward.

That last paragraph serves as another example of lot of words saying lot of nothing. Blech.

I'm trying to train myself to not be so anxious and/or compulsive. Like, a bad habit of mine is checking through the peephole and through the door multiple times during the day. Mainly, I check because I'm paranoid one of the maintenance guys is going to need to come into my apartment. We keep it clean and the people here have given us no evidence that they'll be intrusive or invasive like the gang at Graceland Manor. So, I'm battling the compulsion to look over and over again.

Another example of this same thing is how I worry about money. I compulsively check our bank online and by phone. As the webpage loads I have imagined the balance being significantly lower than I had anticipated. Pretty much every time it's the same as when I last looked. I've been trying to tell myself that because we keep up with our money we won't be surprised by it. I have to keep fighting it.

One of my favorite movies is Nobody's Fool starring Paul Newman. I mention this because I re-watched it the other night and it inspired a fresh perspective. And that is, I want to live a simple life. It's a virtue. A person goes to college and they learn to speak this language of calling, long-term goals and degree programs. In reality that's all a bunch of malarkey. We flatter ourselves with our ambition and plans. I've always hated the quote but John Lennon was right, "life is what happens while you're busy making plans." Wedding days and graduations are fun, but it's all the other days that tell the story.

Next Thursday we're going to see Ben Folds and Weezer. Whoa yeah.

I've gotten into watching soap operas.

I've been thinking about doing stand-up.

Donna has figured out how to replicate the Zesty Ranch chicken sandwich that AppleBee's has. The secret is Lee's Buffalo sauce.

Besides the radio, I hardly listen to music these days. My record player is broken and there is no cd player in the car. It's frustrating.

I'm eating ice because I'm thirsty and too lazy to make more Kool-Aid.

I hate to cut this short but I must.

Goodnight from the third floor.

Regina

Pale and flustered; embarrassed with red-
My day so far
Cold and breezy; the hallowing winter nights-
My life feels sub par

You tell me no one likes you because you're old
I happen to think it's just because you're cold

But I see a different side of you
The one with a smile that only says a kind word
Or tells truth the way it's meant to be heard

Maybe I'm young and certainly foolish
Undoubtedly my life isn't the one you cherish

I like being myself
You like being you
Together we could be
More than a fantasy

Dreams that were wished upon stars
Have clearly gone away
Nothing more now
Just an empty memory

Immolate my regrets through your self-contained depression
Alleviate the problems of miss communicated frustration

Tell me how to feel for you
I'll let you know what to see
Advice isn't the worst thing ever
But the chances are
That you're not changing me

I'm Sorry I Always Mention The Weather

If it were my choice, I surely wouldn't be in New Orleans right now. Not that I'm all that scared of Hurricane Dennis, but because I really want to not have to work on Monday. I'm selfish, I know. My dorm has been without a/c since Thursday afternoon for one thing. Another thing is that I cannot drive anywhere because my water pump in my car has gone out. Thus the reason I wait. It looks like the storm is taking a more eastern projected track, however, the experts really can't say either way. So now I wait. My friend Patricia and I were supposed to drive to her house in Bartow, Florida, but now that doesn't seem like a viable option because the storm is pretty much outer-banning the west coast of Florida. I think we may go to our friend's house in Texas, but there's no telling. Patricia had to work today, so that is why I sit here and I am not currently driving anywhere.

In other random news, I submitted some poetry to a e-zine for publication in the next issue and I'm looking forward to getting a response back.

selah.

What If I Were To Ask?

While Tropical Storm Cindy is just a memory, it looks like Hurricane #4 (ala Dennis) has a chance of following the same path through the Gulf of Mexico. Cindy gave New Orleans nearly Category 1 force winds and nearly a foot of rain in some parts. At least I got yesterday off from work. I went to the outlet malls with Patricia, Maria, and Lynn and got some jeans. They make me look hot.

Ya momma thinks so.

Oh... Burn!

Yeah, that's right.

I'm really tired.

So, now, bye.

Straight Edge Ero

I tutored a semester in a New Orleans Public School District school, which is said to be one of the worst school districts in the country. However, I thought it was just an overstatement.

I was wrong.

Last night, I was pumping gas for a friend when I saw this printed out sign on the gas pump. I then stole it just so you could read it now:

FOR MORE YOU'R CREDIT
PROTECTION, AFTER YOU SWAP
YOUR CREDIT CARD YOU MUST
ENTER YOUR BILLING
ADDRESS"ZIPCODE".

THANKS FOR YOUR
CORPORATION

[sic]

Oh yeah, Happy Independence Day.

While You Were Busy Reading that Really Long Post

I'm going to bed early tonight because tomorrow is church. However, I have discovered that writing even the simplest post creates for me a sense of completion.

Another cool thing I've figured out is that if I space down at the right moment creates a dramatic effect and makes the post appear more substantial than it actually is.

And see that was only one sentence. Did you fall for it?

I get in a particular mood as I write and sometimes in as little as a few minutes that mood has changed. In this situation I review what I have written to that point and possibly lose interest.

Then I think about erasing the whole thing.

thinking

So this one gets to stay. Of course, you knew that. I hope.

What else can I write about besides whatever this is? Well, I've been thinking about quitting writing at this address.

y waning. Plus, I had intended to cut you a break tonight to make up for yesterday's post of great length.

And it's time for my nap anyway. Later friend.

While You Were Sleeping

It's that part of the day when the sky is lit but the timed flood lights are still on. Our routine lately has been to stay up until 4 or 5 and then sleep until after lunch. It's a nice routine, even though it may be a difficult one to get out of. The only trouble with this routine is many times I can stay awake so far passed the point of greatest exhaustion and then be unable to go to sleep. That and everyday this week we've had a crew chainsawing trees down. And that, necessarily, lasts from about 9-1. Donna turned in early tonight, around 3:00 am. In her absence I watched episodes 3-6 of Curb Your Enthusiasm's first season. The last couple episodes were a lot better than the first two, which Donna had watched with me. I considered that I would convince her to watch those two. Based on that I turned it off at the conclusion of the first disc. Now my television opportunities are limited to early morning news or an old preacher who gives sermons from his desk. So the news is on just for the noise. I'm drinking a cold, yet mysteriously flat tasting soda while trying to figure out the other things that I was going to write on. Oh yeah, that was one. I understand it's against the rules of grammar to end a sentence with a preposition. I can see how to comply with this rule, but do not understand the principle. I like to end on a preposition. It's what I'm all about. Ha ha. See. I did it again. Is this the best I can come up with? Probably. Thinking about this I've come to the conclusion that I'd never want to be an English teacher. I'd feel the need to enforce rules that I don't even enforce on myself and worse yet I'd have to suffer through a lifetime of crappy self-indulgent essays. Like this one. I've likely already mentioned this to you directly but I need to reiterate that Blockbuster's Movie Pass is wonderful. We've decided that we most like to rent t.v. shows. As mentioned previously, we got Curb Your Enthusiasm. We akso got the third disc of Scrubs. This rounded out the first season for us. Our Blockbuster does not carry any of the other seasons. We enjoy the show quite thoroughly and are now anxious to see the second season. This week, watching the show, I was reminded about how I had considered a career in modern medicine during the eight months that my uncle was in a coma. I didn't think about being a doctor, but more of a specialist instead. I thought it would be great to work with the comatosed and study possible ways of bringing them out of the coma. Now I can tell that idea was silly. Sweet but silly. I even thought that maybe this happened to my uncle so that I would come to understand my true calling. Sweet but silly, I flinch at the sight of a needle. One thing about Scrubs is that it makes me think about all the people who run the hospitals at all hours of the night while I spend the night watching DVDs. I won't share the profession with them, but nonetheless it gives me an increased sense of urgency. It's funny to be helped so much by fictional characters. It's like when you dream of an alternate reality that in its own way is cool. You awake to learn that this world did not exist. T.V. programs are written. And the comforting thing is that usually they are at least based on reality. It's tempting to let yourself think that the people who play your favorite characters are playing themselves. I'm sure there's a lot of truth to that, but it can't be entirely true. We want it to be true because even with their flaws we have enough information to let anything they do slide. We are without that privilege in the reality. We have our own separate feelings and are not a simple cheery bystander. There is a personal investment and it's much riskier than the possibility of not liking the movie you rent. I watch Curb Your Enthusiasn and I get a good laugh. However, if Larry David were to hang out in my neck of the woods I wouldn't laugh as much. I wouldn't say, "that guy is really funny." Instead, it would be more like, "that guy's a bastard." I relate...and that's the worst part. A couple nights ago I was thinking about how weird i is that my uncle and Mitch Hedberg have died. [Insert Overused Death Cliche Here] It just doesn't seem real. Death to most of us is like Foreign Missions, we've heard about some people who went and we may have given some money to that cause but as far as we can tell it's mythical and unnecessary. The money we gave must have just gone right back into the church. That funeral we went to was, in fact, a strange performance by the local nihilist theater troupe. But none of that is true. Not in the least. You know, how can comedians go on like nothing ever happened like everything is still a laugh riot? Funny has left the building, Mitch is no longer with us. Okay, that comes off a bit mellodramatic. It is sad, but the thing I'm trying to write about is that it's bizarre. I seriously was wondering late the other night if they had really died. I was really in need of a good night's rest that night. I wondered if it was also a dream. I didn't dream tonight because I didn't sleep. I may dream today and that could be cool. I just hope everyone survives it. I hope I can handle it when I remember that I'm not actually close personal freidns with whatever fictional character I dream about. I do that sometimes. Not all the time. It's mostly funny as opposed to pathetic. In any case, I guess it could be of help to think of Larry David. Some things are better kept at a distance. Then again, that's where we go wrong. We keep the "bastards" at a distance and break the world up into 6 billion tiny islands. Where is the life in that?

I've philosophied all that I can think of. It's on full bright now. So, that's all for now.