Everyone Call at Midnight
That's right...to commemorate the turning on of our phone Donna and I want everyone to call at midnight. Our number is (615) 445-8704.
Write it down in more than one place. You won't want to forget it.
And just as Jeff so famously asked, please don't call if you're a murderer.
Moving right along. We're settled into our cozy third floor apartment in Nashville. Yes, the moving in was tough but this is the kind of thing I was created for. I was, afterall, built like an ox.
We got there Friday. Saturday they brought the little U-haul up. Sunday we tried a church. And didn't like it. We spent a huindred dollars on groceries. That was fun to carry up. Monday we celebrated Memorial day. Of course. Today we came here to Donna's mom's house to get the insurance check.
Tomorrow we'll look for jobs. Tomorrow because only then will they definetly be able to reach us at the number. Where I'm coming from I felt bound by limited options as far as career is concerned. Here, I'm confounded by a multitude of options. I don't feel so confused, but instead excited.
I've had the thought that our apartment isn't ours because it's rented. I've decided, however, that it's ours as long as we want to pay for it. This will not be a problem. We've got a short-term plan to buy a house. But for now, this is our palace and we absolutely love it.
I feel more confident that moving here was a necessary step in getting what we want out of life. That's because being here makes this life so much more obvious. It's like a color-by-numbers picture.
We get good reception on the TV picking up CBS, ABC, PBS, FOX, WB, UPN, Christian Television Network, TBN, and NBCshop. The radio is good too. There is one record store that we remember how to get to. Every time we get there it's just closed...there hours are 12-8 weekdays. Tomorrow, however, we will get the internet. Thus, alleviating our lack of information. The telephone book will arrive in the mailbox this week. That'll help too.
All in all, it's good to be home. Our address is:
Chase and Donna Livingston
4501 Packard Drive G-13
Nashville, Tennessee 37211
And again, that phone number is (615) 445-8407. I expect to hear from you. Bye now.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Saturday Mornings I'd Like To Have Slept In
I'm riding to Pensacola with my friend from day camp, Amanda. We're only going for the day, although it isn't totally decided if we will stay the night or not. Next week I'm driving to Graceville, FL on Tuesday night after work, then to Melbourne, FL on Wednesday. On Sunday, I will be driving back to New Orleans. Lots of Willie Nelson will be playing in my head.
Day tripper.
I'm riding to Pensacola with my friend from day camp, Amanda. We're only going for the day, although it isn't totally decided if we will stay the night or not. Next week I'm driving to Graceville, FL on Tuesday night after work, then to Melbourne, FL on Wednesday. On Sunday, I will be driving back to New Orleans. Lots of Willie Nelson will be playing in my head.
Day tripper.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Cholesterol
Cholesterol
Not trusting God will kill you. It's been making me sick this week. When we wrecked I said God saved us. When waiting for the insurance check I forgot how big God is. We had enough money to get to June but the wreck set us back financially. I tried to reason out how we could know the check would arrive in due time. All the major work had been done. That is, they had inspected it and told us what we'd receive. I tried to reason it out to make myself calm, but there was always another "what if?"
What if we weren't supposed to move to Nashville?
What if we somehow messed it up?
What if some check we forgot about cleared the bank?
What if it took months and months for them to issue us the check?
What if by some combination of these we met our financial demise...
And as a result had to move in with our parents?
Hence, the very reason that reason itself doesn't give peace. Hence, the need for faith.
I suppose any of these things could have happened. Worse things could have happened. But if they had God would have brought us through it. No doubt-I can say that now. That is, now that the check is in the mail. I should have said "no doubt" before. That would have shown faith.
Anyone can cheer for the winning team once the game is over. Why do I wait to praise God? Why do I act as though He has to prove Himself to me? That's dumb.
I hope one day I will learn. If I don't I'm bound to suffer a heart attack and die in my early thirties.
Not trusting God will kill you. It's been making me sick this week. When we wrecked I said God saved us. When waiting for the insurance check I forgot how big God is. We had enough money to get to June but the wreck set us back financially. I tried to reason out how we could know the check would arrive in due time. All the major work had been done. That is, they had inspected it and told us what we'd receive. I tried to reason it out to make myself calm, but there was always another "what if?"
What if we weren't supposed to move to Nashville?
What if we somehow messed it up?
What if some check we forgot about cleared the bank?
What if it took months and months for them to issue us the check?
What if by some combination of these we met our financial demise...
And as a result had to move in with our parents?
Hence, the very reason that reason itself doesn't give peace. Hence, the need for faith.
I suppose any of these things could have happened. Worse things could have happened. But if they had God would have brought us through it. No doubt-I can say that now. That is, now that the check is in the mail. I should have said "no doubt" before. That would have shown faith.
Anyone can cheer for the winning team once the game is over. Why do I wait to praise God? Why do I act as though He has to prove Himself to me? That's dumb.
I hope one day I will learn. If I don't I'm bound to suffer a heart attack and die in my early thirties.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Sunday, May 22, 2005
You Were So Proud of Me; I was Too Proud To See
Sorry for my lack of input lately. I am busy moving from Lipsey to Hamilton Hall. I have to move out because they use my place to house people coming here to do Mission Lab during the summer. I start my job tomorrow, so that will make things a little more interesting again. Let's see, anything else new? Nope. Bye.
Sorry for my lack of input lately. I am busy moving from Lipsey to Hamilton Hall. I have to move out because they use my place to house people coming here to do Mission Lab during the summer. I start my job tomorrow, so that will make things a little more interesting again. Let's see, anything else new? Nope. Bye.
Friday, May 20, 2005
Hot Dogs and Hot-Lanta!
We leave this morning for Atlanta. My cousin Todd, who was an usher in my wedding, is getting married. Getting out of this house for a couple days will be good for me.
I just finished off the second of two "really hot" sausage biscuits. So hot my eyes burned. I'm sipping on Dr. K (Kroger brand Dr. Pepper). I'm supposed to be getting directions off mapquest and the number to SallieMae.
My lovely wife is sitting behind me. She is just now having her breakfast after getting our stuff together and whatnot. We see who the responsible one is here. I try to posture myself so as to seem almost through and I pretty much am.
I'd hate to try her patience too much. She's just so nice. "Mom" has gone out for physical therapy. We have to get gone before she returns because who wants to say bye twice.
Last night we had to ask her for Ms. Connie's number. We needed to call her because we bought the truck from her and she is holding a check from us but we have yet to get the check from the insurance company. We told "mom" why we needed the number and specifically that I had told Connie to cash it on Friday. She said discouragingly, "Oh no, it'll be 2 or 3 weeks before we get that check."
I hope to God this is not the case. I mean, the adjuster has already seen the car and said how much we'll get. All that's left now is the check writing. I don't know why people have to be downers. Even still we've got enough money to get two or three weeks. I just would rather have more. I like these kind of issues to be settled.
I got in touch with Ms. Connie. She had no problem waiting and just told us to call when we get the money.
Our clothes have dried. Our suitcase is packed. My lovely wife has finished her uneven half of the chores. I need to do mine.
So until next time, miss us.
P.S. Queen's Greatest Hits is the best thing I own on cassette. Since we only have a cassette player we tend to listen to this a lot.
We leave this morning for Atlanta. My cousin Todd, who was an usher in my wedding, is getting married. Getting out of this house for a couple days will be good for me.
I just finished off the second of two "really hot" sausage biscuits. So hot my eyes burned. I'm sipping on Dr. K (Kroger brand Dr. Pepper). I'm supposed to be getting directions off mapquest and the number to SallieMae.
My lovely wife is sitting behind me. She is just now having her breakfast after getting our stuff together and whatnot. We see who the responsible one is here. I try to posture myself so as to seem almost through and I pretty much am.
I'd hate to try her patience too much. She's just so nice. "Mom" has gone out for physical therapy. We have to get gone before she returns because who wants to say bye twice.
Last night we had to ask her for Ms. Connie's number. We needed to call her because we bought the truck from her and she is holding a check from us but we have yet to get the check from the insurance company. We told "mom" why we needed the number and specifically that I had told Connie to cash it on Friday. She said discouragingly, "Oh no, it'll be 2 or 3 weeks before we get that check."
I hope to God this is not the case. I mean, the adjuster has already seen the car and said how much we'll get. All that's left now is the check writing. I don't know why people have to be downers. Even still we've got enough money to get two or three weeks. I just would rather have more. I like these kind of issues to be settled.
I got in touch with Ms. Connie. She had no problem waiting and just told us to call when we get the money.
Our clothes have dried. Our suitcase is packed. My lovely wife has finished her uneven half of the chores. I need to do mine.
So until next time, miss us.
P.S. Queen's Greatest Hits is the best thing I own on cassette. Since we only have a cassette player we tend to listen to this a lot.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
I Want to Be Your Homepage (?)
I Want to Be Your Homepage (?)
So much to say. Or not.
You would think something worth reading would be written with greater ease. That is, not necessarily faster but more naturally. Usually I find this to be the case. Today I've done a lot of backspacing, but I think this will be substantial.
Substance is in the eye of the blog-reader, I suppose. On that note I'll just be writing about my life as of late. No outstanding revelations to be unveiled tonight. Just boring life stuff. Of course, if that's the way you feel why park your browser on a blogspot?
I'll get on with it.
In my last post I asked for an e-mail adding "I miss you." You might think I'm homesick. It's not that really. Finally leaving Graceville makes me more aware of the effort I need to make to maintain long-distance friendships.
As opposed to homesickness, I've been feeling homeless. We lost our car within a day of getting out of our apartment. For about two weeks, until Donna's semester was over, we stayed at Ms. Connie's. She let us use the truck to get around town. She even insisted that we sleep in her room. During that time she occupied a cot in the living room. Ms. Connie is just like a mom to us and in this way there is no arguing with her. As much as I fought it there was no escaping her hospitality. In this way it was exactly like home to us. Except when you're in someone else's house you can't help but not get completely comfortable. That is, "mi casa es su casa" only goes so far. And, unless you're totally uncooth, you can never make yourself completely at home.
For the next 9 days we can be found here at Donna's mom's house. But I want to go home...as in our new place. I'm homesick for it even though I've never lived there. I reckon this is about as logical as marrying an internet girlfriend. It's like they say, when you know you know. I know where I belong. I know my place. I'm ready to get there, get settled and put down roots.
Or something like that.
I want to go home but clicking my heels doesn't get the job done. I'll just have to sit here and watch the clock. I've tried to be a good boy and hang up my clothes but I feel like I've been living out of a laundry basket for some time now. Even in my own apartment. I thank the "nice folks" in charge of Graceland Manor for part of that. When you can't be sure when they'll bust in you can never stay comfortable for long.
Still most of the blame lies with me. I haven't been serious enough about life to make a house a home. I've always kept things feeling temporary. For example, at Books-A-Million I always kept the mindset that I would not be permanently trapped there. Because of this, though I made friends, I tended to think of them as placeholders. They helped me get through the day but held no long-term significance in my mind. That's not fair and it's no way to live.
Fleeing high school to college I fled from unfair characterizations which had been made of me. It was gratifying to escape all that baggage. I soon learned the tragic truth that no matter how hard a person tries to be authentic they'll still be unfairly chracterized and put into a proverbial box. Yes, even at a Christian college. Especially there. I went there feeling like I could trust mostly anyone. I got burned. On multiple occassions. By people I hadn't really done anything to. I was disliked for the same stupid kind of reasons that I hadn't been liked in high school.
It's true: I could be a jerk, I wasn't the best student and I wasn't very faithful about going to church but mostly they didn't have a reason. They just didn't like me. "Didn't like" is an understatement. Despite is more like it. All because of a story they heard from their sister or because they didn't like my jokes or I made a weird face or because my eyes move. Stupid reasons.
I let this kind of thing get the best of me and as a result (to quote a song) "my give a damn was busted". I became apathetic. You should never let yourself do this. As soon as I did the positive effect that I had dwindled. It's more obvious now. Apathy is worse than death. It's the gift that keeps on sucking the life out. I'm going to change this. I'm going to "give a damn."
Or else. Or else I won't be able to stand myself.
Only when I really care will I be able to make myself at home.
So much to say. Or not.
You would think something worth reading would be written with greater ease. That is, not necessarily faster but more naturally. Usually I find this to be the case. Today I've done a lot of backspacing, but I think this will be substantial.
Substance is in the eye of the blog-reader, I suppose. On that note I'll just be writing about my life as of late. No outstanding revelations to be unveiled tonight. Just boring life stuff. Of course, if that's the way you feel why park your browser on a blogspot?
I'll get on with it.
In my last post I asked for an e-mail adding "I miss you." You might think I'm homesick. It's not that really. Finally leaving Graceville makes me more aware of the effort I need to make to maintain long-distance friendships.
As opposed to homesickness, I've been feeling homeless. We lost our car within a day of getting out of our apartment. For about two weeks, until Donna's semester was over, we stayed at Ms. Connie's. She let us use the truck to get around town. She even insisted that we sleep in her room. During that time she occupied a cot in the living room. Ms. Connie is just like a mom to us and in this way there is no arguing with her. As much as I fought it there was no escaping her hospitality. In this way it was exactly like home to us. Except when you're in someone else's house you can't help but not get completely comfortable. That is, "mi casa es su casa" only goes so far. And, unless you're totally uncooth, you can never make yourself completely at home.
For the next 9 days we can be found here at Donna's mom's house. But I want to go home...as in our new place. I'm homesick for it even though I've never lived there. I reckon this is about as logical as marrying an internet girlfriend. It's like they say, when you know you know. I know where I belong. I know my place. I'm ready to get there, get settled and put down roots.
Or something like that.
I want to go home but clicking my heels doesn't get the job done. I'll just have to sit here and watch the clock. I've tried to be a good boy and hang up my clothes but I feel like I've been living out of a laundry basket for some time now. Even in my own apartment. I thank the "nice folks" in charge of Graceland Manor for part of that. When you can't be sure when they'll bust in you can never stay comfortable for long.
Still most of the blame lies with me. I haven't been serious enough about life to make a house a home. I've always kept things feeling temporary. For example, at Books-A-Million I always kept the mindset that I would not be permanently trapped there. Because of this, though I made friends, I tended to think of them as placeholders. They helped me get through the day but held no long-term significance in my mind. That's not fair and it's no way to live.
Fleeing high school to college I fled from unfair characterizations which had been made of me. It was gratifying to escape all that baggage. I soon learned the tragic truth that no matter how hard a person tries to be authentic they'll still be unfairly chracterized and put into a proverbial box. Yes, even at a Christian college. Especially there. I went there feeling like I could trust mostly anyone. I got burned. On multiple occassions. By people I hadn't really done anything to. I was disliked for the same stupid kind of reasons that I hadn't been liked in high school.
It's true: I could be a jerk, I wasn't the best student and I wasn't very faithful about going to church but mostly they didn't have a reason. They just didn't like me. "Didn't like" is an understatement. Despite is more like it. All because of a story they heard from their sister or because they didn't like my jokes or I made a weird face or because my eyes move. Stupid reasons.
I let this kind of thing get the best of me and as a result (to quote a song) "my give a damn was busted". I became apathetic. You should never let yourself do this. As soon as I did the positive effect that I had dwindled. It's more obvious now. Apathy is worse than death. It's the gift that keeps on sucking the life out. I'm going to change this. I'm going to "give a damn."
Or else. Or else I won't be able to stand myself.
Only when I really care will I be able to make myself at home.
Saturday, May 14, 2005
Chewka Cherry Cola
Chewka Cherry Cola
Spending half a day on the road leads to a handful of interesting thoughts and revelations.
Aerosmith is the story of 4 guys who refused to get a "decent" haircut well into their sixeties.
Savage Garden is the nineties version of Hall and Oates. Both groups sing songs about girls but make you wonder, "Are they gay? Are they gay together?"
Oh. I thought there were more. I guess that was it. Nevermind.
We stopped in Alabaster to take pictures of the crash site and the car. I acted like I was a regular CSI, piecing the evidence together to better understand the anatomy of our near-death experience. Apparently, we traveled about a 1/4 mile from the point that we left the road before the trees stopped us. We found mile marker #236, the post of which we had broken, and took it.
At the wrecker I took the rearview and the gas cap off the car. I asked the guy if he had a syphon hose so I could get the gas and put it in the truck. He said he couldn't let me do that for insurance reasons. I say he intends to take it.
We got here in Jackson at 1-something. Ate at Grandma's with the addition of Keith, Larry and Aunt Ree. Sat and chatted afterward. Ripe theological conversation was aplenty. I had things to input but no energy to put them in. Sometimes saying anything seems futile. That is, I don't get much out of or feel very effective in the way of talking but coming to no conclusions. I had a crick-in-the-neck/oncoming migraine so I told Donna I would walk home. She said she'd drive me. Came to "mom's" house and napped until 9 o'clock. Got up. Ate again. Drank sweet Tea. Played Wheel of Fortune on the computer. Blogged. Went back to sleep.
Oh, I guess that part is now.
P.S. Write me an e-mail. I miss you.
Spending half a day on the road leads to a handful of interesting thoughts and revelations.
Aerosmith is the story of 4 guys who refused to get a "decent" haircut well into their sixeties.
Savage Garden is the nineties version of Hall and Oates. Both groups sing songs about girls but make you wonder, "Are they gay? Are they gay together?"
Oh. I thought there were more. I guess that was it. Nevermind.
We stopped in Alabaster to take pictures of the crash site and the car. I acted like I was a regular CSI, piecing the evidence together to better understand the anatomy of our near-death experience. Apparently, we traveled about a 1/4 mile from the point that we left the road before the trees stopped us. We found mile marker #236, the post of which we had broken, and took it.
At the wrecker I took the rearview and the gas cap off the car. I asked the guy if he had a syphon hose so I could get the gas and put it in the truck. He said he couldn't let me do that for insurance reasons. I say he intends to take it.
We got here in Jackson at 1-something. Ate at Grandma's with the addition of Keith, Larry and Aunt Ree. Sat and chatted afterward. Ripe theological conversation was aplenty. I had things to input but no energy to put them in. Sometimes saying anything seems futile. That is, I don't get much out of or feel very effective in the way of talking but coming to no conclusions. I had a crick-in-the-neck/oncoming migraine so I told Donna I would walk home. She said she'd drive me. Came to "mom's" house and napped until 9 o'clock. Got up. Ate again. Drank sweet Tea. Played Wheel of Fortune on the computer. Blogged. Went back to sleep.
Oh, I guess that part is now.
P.S. Write me an e-mail. I miss you.
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